Circuit building block nyt crossword clue

'Faze'.
At the, "Dere-Licht," Manor, upon the Steps of the Stairs, a Smoked Pipe was placed. In the very Centre of the Meeting Hall (the Room off to the Side from the Bottom of the Stairwell), there was another one, as well. Okay well, throughout the entire building... More like, a GREAT number!
Avem had them placed all throughout that Rebuilt Old Character House, and within that Glorified Mansion, there were Smoked Pipes, In and On Cupboards, Resting Upon Windowsills (with the Drapes Pulled or Left Open), upon Countertops, Hidden Inside of Bookshelves (if not Resting Upon them), of course on the Mantle, Hidden In and Around Corners.. at Every End, Above and Slightly Adjacent to Entrances, and even some, which were included upon the Tabletops...
All of these Smoking Pipes, some with Ashen Remainders in them, some only Constructed Models of, what we imagine, would have been kept for their Interest Sake, were watched by a Careful Set-Up, of Video Surveillance.
The Surveillance, Signaled Hanging Display Monitors, all throughout the House, and also at Avem's Lab in Tokyo. Some of these Monitors, were Hanging from the Ceiling, at the Walls, Facing Down and Into the Rooms. Others, in the Bedrooms, were Level with Sitting Chairs, where one might want to Sit Down and Look At Them.
They were Set Up, Primarily, To Catch Every Angle and Motion of Light or Shadow Upon or Within the Pipes. This Recording of Smoked Rememberances, took place Every Night and Day, from the Rising to the Setting of the Sun, all Throughout the Years. What were the Ashes for?
…
Granny Smith, he yelled. I'm telling you! She didn't believe him one bit. And you pretend you weren't looking for me!?...
She interrogated him fearsomely. Do you know who I am???
Do you know who I am, "Roared," Perry, back at her, bleakly. He was terrified. Though, he somehow managed to pull off a tone, which mirrored her own, with mock mavery.
Down the hall, there was a beep. Close the door, Swarma commanded, looking out through the interrogation Room's Exit. There was the sound of a, "fwoosh," and a, "click," outside of it. Nobody had been at the Exit, either to push or to pull it's heavy door, closed. There was also no telling, of where that other door might be. She took a swab and daubed Perry with it quickly, before leaving. Wait right here, she cackled, smiling a leerily-wisening old grin, as she left him to total.
What's doing this to you? shrieked Ren. June had actually been, in all fact, sobbing and in dread. Her body, becoming purple, as it was, "cast," with some thick layer of unknown chrysoform, which continued to cover her in variegating patches, no matter how much she scratched or peeled. It seemed to keep leaking out from her pores in beads, which coalesced over her skin, recombined, and matted. Heaving, she threw a chunk at the Vending Machine.
She was sitting in Emergency, having just made it through Triage. These are for you, said the Faithful and Believing, Catholic Lady Friend of Wells, who passed her some Pamphlets from the Lecture.
The Professor had stopped everything, to see to it that this kind Lady, would bring Juniper to ER, post-haste. June had brought Ren along as a Study Buddy, for Note-Taking, with a Bribe.
Initially, June went out to the Mountains, to collect Perry's belongings from the Rented Cabin. Upon arriving back in town, both she and Ren decided to Drive out to the College for a Lecture, and to Sight-See, while asking people around the Area if they had Seen or Heard from Perry. Could he be haunting her somewhere? Was there any hope?
Although... the Professor HAD, abruptly interrupted his Lecture to find one of his CPR-trained staff to escort Juniper to the nearby Hospital E.R., in the event that she might not make it there herself, and was, "Truly," facing a Medical Crisis.
The Vending Machine, went lame, and the lights in ER flickered for a moment. I'm getting creeped, said Ren. That's all!
June's problem stemmed back, from when she ate the Oatmeal, which Perry had left behind at the Cabin, while she was inside it, looking at a Newspaper and Doodling.
Some of Avem's Team, had been in the Trails previously, and Driven a Snowmobile through them, tracing Chemicals through the Snow. A or Spoken Split. It had been at just one of her Lab's Testing Zones.
Avem had caught onto Perry, first, when her Voice Exploded from a Crackling Ice Wyrm/ “i”’Sāqa-Šaqqa, in the Cabin's Fireplace.
Avem had been Writing her Vocals into the Chemical Strains of the Ice-Wyrm Constituency Potion, which she concocted in her Lab, and Spread Rumours about, then Codifying it with Automatic Cyber-Sentience Response-Forms, which took initiatives, based on Environmental Factors, and in turn, fed back Information. This Data, was made readable by her Reverse Tonic, which Tabulated it, by Codices, which had Variables in her own Mental Inter-Framing. Cog-Notes, if you will, to her own Cognition. All of, these, Variables, which entered her Consideration, let her Pry, both on Known, and Unknown, Territories. She frequently Drank her Cyber-Tonic from a Vial in her Lab, while going over Her Work.
Perry Wheeled, and Stumbled around the Room, trying to avoid the Icicle Firecrackers, which were Sounding Off whenever he Slid and/or Stepped upon them. He'd apparently been Mega-Dosed, and was now about to Learn what in the World of a Mega-Dosed, Felt Like when Under and In It.
The Wyrms were Sounding Off, in an Acoustics Array, and Perry, Bounded and Rebounded Turning Listless as the Chrysalids Exited him, and Becoming Reinterred into Motion Again, by their Sounds. He was now, well... Not Feeling Like a Perry. That and he was Done, Done, and, "Roared," out. He could No Longer even Find his Own Vocal to Bless How He Felt. Avem came back in, when the Turnabout was Over. She had Observed Perry by a Camera Hidden in the Room, which was Hooked up to her Monitors for Surveillance, as well. Turning on a Ventilation Fan, from outside, which led the Room's Air into a Separate Chamber, she had Two People, Dressed in Dark Robes, walk in, and move Perry back to his Chair, now Limp. They Swept Up, the Remaining Crystalline Deciduates, and Drains Opened, which Took the Little Bit of Liquidine Debris, Out of the Room. Perry, was now Toned.
Swarma, Placed her Hand on his Forehead, at First to Take his Temperature, and then, Mentally Calibrating his Vocal Remembrance within Herself, Uttered a Word to him, While he sat Slumped over the Chair, Catatonic. The Word.
And Therein, may be a Key... His Subconscious Mind, would most certainly Remember. She Had Uttered It, in His Very Own Vocal Tone. Why? It Rendered him Cognizant and Triggered His Mentality, as though His Own... Though, Truly?... Her Own.
Perry was allowed, with the other Time Wraiths as escort, to slowly move around the Manor and familiarize himself with it. He was being taught by them, how to remain very still for long periods of time. Many of the Time Wraiths, were flown out to the Lab down in Tokyo, to use the computers on their Night-Watch Network. The Lab there, housed her prized Hua Niu ("Black Diamond") Apple, Bonsai, kept under specialized lighting, plus numerous other artefacts. It was set up like somewhat of a Museum, with one dimly lit, humming room for computer observancy, which apart from Monitor glare, left much to the realm of the keen observer.
The 34, often formed a Large Pentagram, with two people at each of the five elemental points, two people between each elemental point encompassing, two people between each elemental point intersecting, two people in the very centre, and two people encircling round about. Underneath them, was stone masonwork in black basalt, and a large star outline, traced with gold inlay.
A chandelier hung above them, and the room had an overview of the gated entrance, where birds were often seen in trees, and light could pour in, but at night, the glass of these windows turned sheet-black to buffet them in, high enough up that none might peep.
By no commotion of ceremony, the participants would stand and hear the NicNeven recite her Canon address. The fruits her Science had yielded, sounded in the Hall, and into their collective memory, which disbanded when they did, after she read from her book.
The book, made from gene paper, was their Canon, and this... only a meeting hall. Despite its congressional form, summons were not of sell out to World Teachings. She ranked as their Science-elected, matriarch, of mental-modernity, by the facet of old typings and tyings, to, "new," teachings.
Ruminations from the fruits of her labwork, thereat would be discussed. For if nobody would have them, they most certainly would. Then, and only then, would the lines be codographed (some of the Night-Watch, were also very good hackers). They were secretly culted-over, but by few, and their practicum bore method, not mere devotion. The team were, "Nec-Will'O’Mancer"-affiliate.
An Addendum/Add-On on The Hadena/Gaudy Hadibi/Gift, Out Of Hades/Hell, by Hoodoo (Through Sinter Croft Sinchery, or, alleged Ho-Doctorate).
~ In Other Words: The Elaborately Sinched False-Label on Tobacco Smoke. ~
…
That It Came From, Túḫ-ḫa-a-iz-zi: "To Produce Smoke."
A Variant Of This Hittite Language Word (In Imperative Plural), Is, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
Because, 'Tuh': Means to, "Pour"/"Give Birth"/"Lay Eggs"/"Touha (Which, implies, by, "Desire")," And/Or, "Tuha," https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuh
This, As Well As, 'Tuhh': "Thousand"/"Grand"/"Tonn,” by the Proponent of Measure. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuhh
&
... 'Tuha': "Tuba." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/туъһа
Where, ... 'Tuba' (Malay Language): Is a, "Poison That Is Made Out Of Root." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuba
Plus, it’s, 'Tuba' (Malay Language), Gives "Duva (Fijian Language),"
For 'Dūbǭ' (Dutch Language): https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/Reconstruction:Proto-Germanic/dūbǭ * 'Dūbǭ', Can Mean, "Dove." *
Thus, “Height.” Though, Holy Spirit (Or Prayers) still, “Intemn”/”Imprison,” you as Indebted by Material Snare (Karmic-Causal Renditions), if not off of it.
…
~ After Tuh, Which Too, Is Tuha.. And Tuha, Which With Tuhh, Is Thousand.. ~
... Kamba Language: "Andu,” for, “Mundu."
• Making, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
The Reason Why, Is Because,
"Andu (Kamba Language)": "Mundu,"
And "Mundu (Kamba Language)": "A Man,"
When,
"Mʊ̀ntʊ̀ (Proto-Bantu Language)": "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
And "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
When Translated To Nyasa, Chichewa Language: "Chinthu."
This Last Addition Indicates The

• "Co."

Which Is, The, "Man," "Thing," Or, "World," Of It, So To Speak.
Which Would Be The World, If Not By Dove-Letterate.

• Jehu, Jehu, He’ish I Say too. *

Ishi (Hosea). …

• Anyhow, the Natives know it by another name. Hope you've enjoyed the Lesson!

What did you have me on? Some sort of Cerelium Slick? El, in Perry, broke out bawling. Something so licentious that I can’t tell I’m licked. HaHa.
His stupor adored him with affection, and he had a hammering affectation from it. It caused him to clout his knowing, though only briefly.
Perry came through, yamming… I’m looking back on days of Candy Cloaker Gobstoppers! You mean you literally had me erased… or, where am I?
You Hide no Burger, in Finding Fries, Perald. Daytime is where I have you.
At that, there had been an unconventional or out-of-the-norm convening, where not-an-one of all the attendants had-in, to agree, "We are Necropolitan"... Though, their greed to know, would grow.
Perry led himself back in, looking for his girlfriend, strangely feeling sold out of his nut.
…
Ironically, it was just at that point that Juniper had made it there. She too was undergoing her thought detexturing, “rinse,” that is, the opposite of any detox, after looking like a Raisin May's, “In.”
This was to be the, “Turnabout (a new Ceremony was declared by Avem’s Host in Relative-Caster Company, and held somewhat like a House Party).”
A $9,000.00 Maitland Smith Dollhouse Bar Cabinet, was off in isolated room of the newly Renovated Manor, with a load of Porcelain Dolls and cameras to watch it.
That room was off limits.
Juniper had had it in her know long afore, in dream. Now to hack Avem… oh, where?
…
"Osa," circuit of my air... How can, "I," enfold you? Swarma asked, with a vestitude, which only, behooved to surmise her, with surreptitious guiltiness of paridyllic refrain.
She, “The NicNeven,” winked meaningfully, holding an extremely rare pipe up, skyward.
The Time Wraiths all sat, in their, “F”arm-Ended Theatre apart from the once-Ballroom.
Quieting down, it was in their circle that a cast occurred, but in truth they were no relative summoners and Avem’s Mafia had elected them afresh.
That is… that as they were all a, somewhat afraid and eerily sketched out, “Fresh Crop,” yet and though, she would in fact, have them richly afforded, in Good Time.
…
Avem’s Mafia had sent the former Nec-Will’O’Mancers over to her Manor for the Renovations.
Avem, then, was Crowned, “Accorded,” and the Newly Selected Time Wraiths, could be Trained.
Avem’s Clue In, in her new Role, while in her old Manor seemed to live in it’s espies.
I mean, they must have had her drugged for the whole house to be enchanted, somehow, but the only question is who set it up, and when?
One of her clues, came from a former Nec-Will’O’Mancer silently shadow-encoaching a novice approved in the group, by his far larger boding of path had, in-the-off. She heard the man in her head as well, ruling that Smith had to explore her ties in the Mafia, through rank, a second time, and thus a later, termed-submission as a right of accession, had been officed.
She, once again (the man went over in his mind) being indoctrinated into Mafia rank, though slowly, because her freedom-release methods, were her own merital device, and she needed a longer time to work at them.
Avem, had canned herself intentionally, to stay at a head, but nobody fully knew, how it was done.
Reptilian Mind Control.
-‐-
How could that be?
Look to the Wind, and we shall ride. ~ "Phantom Riding The Whip," where one is not standing on top of a vehicle, but rather, riding over a different type of, "Whip," as a, "Phantom-Circuit." ~
"Now we admonish," they recited.
"Peace be," stated the NicNeven. She inhaled from the lit pipe.
They all, “doned,” her infuriatingness, with amicability.
Now yes, your highest love, and what’s our gift they forecried, awaiting something.
Not of in an any Dib of forgery… You will undoubtedly see. She canned.
Please don’t mess us or master us mental, Avem, one girl joked, admitting the kind dark lair WAS weird.
That's Missus, Avem relegated ghasting.
…
Now, I have here the document they stole it from, a man entering the room said. He read aloud,
The remains of a, "chicote"/"cigar butt"/"cigarette butt."
The Nec-Will'O'Mancers, then stated in unison, reading off of the pamphlets they'd previously been handed out, though in a less clear-and-determined tone, or well (it seemed), in a way that hummed and wandered.
"... Far l'fo, Ho glow. How we sway. How does a hard tar, Lie her thieu, In a chi, icy high..."?
When they were finished reciting, the man continued speaking.
By, "sukunai," "少ない," the man continued in Japanese… a word, which means, "few or little," with the root word, "少し ("すこし," "sukoshi").""
Avem exhaled. "The synonym for, which is, "chotto," she said. So yes... in other words? "A little." "ちょっと ("chotto")," may I add, it has a root word in the adverb, "chito..." "... "ちと ("chito")," as in, "slightly," "a little," "a bit," or, "somewhat," where, "ち ("chi," means, “small”)," and, "と ("to," is an adverbial particle). "と ("to")," is also a noun, which is short for, "と金 (tokin)," which will now indicate a promoted, "歩兵 ("fuhyō," or, "pawn”)," that, "moves," like a, "金将 ("kinshō," or, “gold general”).""
Thus, what might have been inferred, perhaps, was that a, "Chicote," in a pipe, was, more or less, alike unto a, "Chi Chót," if it did indeed implicate such.
A, "Chót," of course, meaning something at the, "Bottom," "Lowest Extremity," or, "End," of something, and from there, or at that point, perhaps even then moving forward.
Chicote, apart from being a form of Tobacco, was also, in all truth, a form of, "Whip," known for being a Scourge, in places like the Congo.
The NicNeven, had already caught wise to this, and also how, this form of Tobacco, may have had it's own "Xicohtli (a Nahuatl word, for, "Bumblebee")."
I guess, what needed to be said most (as a nod to the Indigenous People), was that they were good to hold a Peace over the Herb, and also Bow...
Some people may have needed a Peace Blessed over them, knowing the Nature of how all Words exist with ties to Power.
…
This time, however, she was not merely dreaming with the pipe. She aimed to begin work on something more pivotal. Holding her peace, over them, as though the Time Wraiths had not, in fact, been led by her to keep a different mindset, themselves, she kept them aware, of the part of her mind they were let in by.
A part, they would not be able to share. When inhaling, she did so with a strickening wind, through sympathetic diacords and resonance fields, and from a region locked onto by the Time Wraiths collective awareness. The NicNeven (we presume, remaining silent somewhere at the top of an, "imaginary," but quite irregal, circuit of Heaven, and with her pipe), had her whole lot hidden safely away, and blessed unseen.
She, "wind-let," her chosen remote area, with the pipe, from a distance, as though it were a whip and a scourge, creating yet another (this time stronger), bane.
Her smoke summons, were such that, she hoped to collect and open them, one day, as a portal, to dawn on the World.
As for the pipe vision. This one was well formed. She might have make a centrepiece of it, on table somewhere.
Many of them, rested on glass plates, with glass cases overtop. After their Surveillance Circuit had run, "Ash-Line Data," or, "Pipe Particle Intel," was fed through a Computer on the Ash-Configuracy, Analysis-Observancy Program, of the, 'Night-Watch Circuit', of the, "Time Wraiths"-Network, and for a Number of Reasons...
One, being that the Data, would often be used to reproduce these, "In-Pipe Visions," as, "Viable Product-for-Sale ("Furnishings from the, "Furnace,"" so-to-speak)," and so they needed a Good Record of Analysis kept for Reproduction. "Pipe Reproductions," would be made using more Durable Materials, and Non-Smokable Materials. The Data, would also allow the group to Configure Predictions of Ash-Shift, with a Matrix, once Measurements and Variables were Plugged into an appropriate Coded Program Logarithm, which helped them see, potential Shift Patterns, which may yet arise. The Furnishings, were to be kept as Permanent Pipes... Artefacts, for the Mansion, and Museum, of Swarma.
'Necrolith Spectre'. ~ The NicNeven's, "Necrolith Spectre," had a very real premise. She, had drawn Chi through her Summon of Feiz, by a Fix. ~
"Chi (# 14)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E3%81%A1
"Summon ("Korean," Language)": 徴 https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E5%BE%B4#Japanese
"Feiz ("Zhuang," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/feiz#Zhuang
"Fix ("Bouyei," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/fix
Andrew wrote obscurely,
My thought is that the Jinwen Bian, Bronze Inscription, of, "Fá (in the Mandarin Language)," ties itself over to, "Fät (in the "Volapük," Language)," and thus relates to, "Fate," and, "Karma."
"Fat (in the Cantonese Language)," means, "Buddha," and is related to, "Fá (in Mandarin)," while, "Fät (in the Voläpuk Language)," is characteristic of, "Buddhist Philosophy."
Does anyone else see the Structure of the Modern, "Wheel," in the Mandarin, "Fá?" - A.W.T. (November 18th, 2020).

• No-one knew why. *

‘A, “Marrow Vin Gean”’.
The Holy Spirit Sword cuts through to the Marrow. This is intended to mean that it is versatile. Only, more to the point, that it is not intended for vice.
How this happens, is that it has verses, in tandem occurrence, operating in relevant reflection, on Scripture, and is designed to heal. That is… before having thought of attack or rendering anyone ineffectual.
Wisdom from Jesus, in Scripture, teaches us, that, without Doctrinal relevance, and Revelation, we live on a Dying Planet and cause it.
~ Falling out of our mouths, if I may add. ~ The tongue is a venomous instrument, which apart from destroying, needs to be bridled with Scriptural Truth and or the Gospel, or healing falls away from what we know of vital spirit, sowing, growing, engrafting, and planning.
However picking up on any dead line of “Prayer Chain (for things truly are, by introspection, a righteously bidden, divine godly judgement's in of how to live by a planetary Monodeism and not just by correspondence, but mainly faith in Him),” to help, Christianly, defeat the death of the soul. [Angelic parameters, of what’s barred, of course had in, or it’s out a’barren]
Marrow is where the Blood Cells are created before reaching the Circulatory System.
This is in the bone.
Luz is the Catholic-Bidden Vertebrae/Spinal Column Bone for Resurrection.
As Jesus commands one to Live or the Tree not to grow for being of ill time, Our lines have a prayer solvency to that line of fess, by the Vin, or vine, and gean or Spirit.
However, Merovingeans are babylonian Dragon order. We needed it bidden less graven.

• Remember the Holy Ghost is of the Burning Bush, with Moses, in Exodus, in The Holy Bible (and not only there).

A Spirit Sword (Of The LORD), bids first how to save. One, “should,” not desire to dare another into fire, as God graces the time by his hand.
Made of Heaven, wise, the sword knows the hairs on the heads of the utilizers and counting unequal, may perform.
That is, off for bolder lead, and even balded for baring, out of the Worker’s Parable of God’s Constance and Unequal Nature, bearers of it's Fire, may see, and do oft’ find some in their know, of the Church Hold on Word.
Obvious?
This is the Rate Of Pay, in the Vineyard Parable, of the Workers who worked (un-in Mammon), for their Lord (Christ), earlier, and then some other, later (ie. When, in Truth, found bidden in and by Him, a fair constant is maintained, no matter World Climate, in the Fellowship), for and not toward, the forever, for they may not be bidden.
God unriddled.
Jesus, is the Amen in Revelations 3:14, He Ransoms Believers Souls, through Self Sacrifice and Sovereign Service, his father, created and lawed through the covenants, and the commandments, and owned all heaven host and hierarch, and the Holy Spirit, Blessed the Way.
'On What Could Have Been'.
An expensive matryoshka was brought in for Ralph to look at...
He received the package at his Estate, and had a hard time with his spectacles, adjusting them trying to read the fine print.
The brown paper parcel, with white sticker, opened to a smaller purple gift box, within it. The gift box was about the size of an order of chow mein, and from within the lilac tissue paper inside, was a golden doll. Andrei, Fu, and Evelyn, had driven back and were now seated around Mr. Dizzmith.
Well, here it is, he stated. No word of who it's from, not to mention that I'm not working anymore.
Is it another antique asked Andrei?
Yes, and well, I think it is, replied the Senior, but the thing is, I don't know how to open it. It's a Matryoshka or Russian Nesting Doll, and this one is rather expensive, but the Middle Circumference of the Doll has a Twistable-Dial Lock, and I've never known that to be the case before.
Would you wager all the others inside it are like that, too? asked Evelyn. I know what Matryoshkas are, but you're right. This one DOES seem a little bedeviled.
Perhaps said Ralph.
Do you think there is anything inside, asked Fu.
It looks a little weighty. Is it a bomb? Asked Evelyn.
Nobody would bomb a man like Mr. Dizzmith, said Andrei, but just to be on the safe side, I'll look it up. Andrei pulled out his Smart Phone.
Most bombs don't have Passcodes, said Fu. Look, the Passcode is right here on the box.
It says the code can be adjusted and is made to be matrilineal.
This is most definitely a finely-crafted specimen then, but how does it work? asked Ralph.
Well, it looks like every Doll has two turnable dials at the vertical middle, which run horizontal and around the circumference. These are adjusted from within, when open, and numerically set with dates for a passcode, before the top and bottom on each doll are latched, that is. Each doll is secured, around and over the former one, which has been latched or fastened, and each, in so doing, has its dials consecutively scrambled from the outside, before putting the next doll on it. The dolls are hollow, and increase in scale, to fit, while the locks operate by Birth Years of mothers, or rather, daughters. If one Mother or Grandmother, leaves a Sum, in her Will, to the, 'Matryoshka Fund', it will Increase in Interest, and if they send an Heirloom in With the Money, once the Company is Informed of the Birth of the Final Child, they will send the Doll to the Final Child, Heirloom within It. The Family History, and Records are Sent too, as the Locks are Set with Birth Years, of Mothers, in Chronological Order or First to Last, and this Prevents the Wrong Families from Accessing the Contents.
If No Contents, are Sent by the Ancestral Will-Bearer, Gifts-in-Shop, may also be Included, upon Initial Order Selection.
The Company/Fund, occasionally Touches Base with the Families, but this is Less Common.
Who is it for? asked Evelyn.
I have no idea, but there's some Weird Vial in it!
What could it be of, though?
Well, Matryoshka's are generally not compartments, made use of, for containing things, but this appears to be a Vial of Oil.
"Oyle," is a rare name for the Saviour, "Jesus Christ," remarked Andrei.
"Oyle ("Middle English," Language)": # 2.4. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/oyle Maybe an Heiress, then? said Ralph. WHO could she have been?!

I just moved into a 2 bedroom 1 bath, and would like to sublet the second room.
A few things about the place:
-Elevator building on West 113th st. few blocks above Central Park, 5 min walk from A,B,C,2,&3 trains
-Spacious living room, and decent sized bedroom for queen bed, desk, and other stuff
-Dishwasher, stove, microwave in unit, and laundry room on the same floor
-Huge private outdoor space that wraps around the entire apt
-Lots of closet space
-$1650 a month
I'm a 34M teacher and writer, I have a 7 year old dog. I'm pretty chill, I like guitar, crosswords and cooking. I'm not a neatfreak, but I am looking for someone respectful, communicative and who can keep a clean bathroom. Dogs welcome on a case by case basis. Sorry, but no cats.
I am flexible about the length of stay. No preference over age or gender, as long as there is proof of income.
Photos here: https://imgur.com/a/RP7hz76
DM me for more info.

I stared up at the magazine cut out of a Maxim model that was crudely pasted on the underside of the top bunk. Her pert breast shimmied ever so slightly as Pete tossed and turned above.
She was platinum blonde with legs long enough to wrap around me twice. Or so the camera angle made it seem. I felt a stirring below, that yearning for a woman’s touch… which I hadn’t felt in six years, three months, and eleven days.
I rolled to my side, stifling it. It was the wrong time to seek out an orgasm, and I knew after the release I’d just spiral into self-loathing anyway. I focused on a crack in the cinder block until my eyelids became heavy.
Static pushed the thought of women from my mind as I slipped into sleep. The smell of cigars and oil flitted through my mind in a memory. My dad’s repair shop. The one I was meant to take over, before the arrest…
------
“Aaaarrgghh!”
A cry echoing from somewhere deep within the prison startled me awake. My heart thundered in my chest like a rabbit thrashing against its cage.
I rolled over to see Pete crouching low, his face pressed against the bars.
“What’s going on?” I croaked.
“They’re taking Benny.” He whispered.
“Fuck, really?” I pulled myself to the top corner of my mattress, just enough to peer around the edge of the bars.
Two guards wrestled the young latino onto a gurney as a man in a lab coat watched from a distance. He fought against them but it was futile. Once the straps were locked in he screamed once more, pleading for help.
Dozens of eyes watched from dim lit cells, none of which stirring to offer assistance in the slightest. We knew there was no helping him. We knew what happened next…
His cries were muffled as the doctor jammed a syringe into the base of his neck. Benny’s muscles tensed and pulsed in the fit of a seizure, but then lay still. The cell block was silent once more as they wheeled him down the hall and into the catacombs.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray. Once they took them, they never came back.
“A damn shame…” I muttered.
“Yeah, he was a good kid…” Pete stood and leapt back onto the top bunk.
A fire burned in my chest. I wanted to say something. To cry out about the injustice of what was happening to us. That committing a crime shouldn’t damn a man to whatever terrible fate they had instore for us below three feet of steel and a quarter mile of dirt.
But I didn’t… What good could it do? Other than drawing attention to me in a very negative way.
Once they took you to the lab, you were never seen again.
All you could do was hope that your number was never called, and that you got out of here before they visited your cell late into the night.
—-----
87…88…89…90…
My chest was on fire as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t go back to sleep last night. Kept thinking about Benny.
91…92…93…
So began the push-ups. It was the only way to clear my head.
94…95…96…
My therapy.
97…98…99…100.
I rolled to my back, out of breath.
Three years, six months and change.
So much time left to go.
Benny had only been here for a little over a year. It made no sense…
None of us could figure out exactly why they took who they took. There seemed to be no method to the madness.
Just a couple weeks ago they took old man Tom Finch. He’d been here longer than any of us. A lifer on the account of premeditated murder back in the 70s. But they didn’t come for him until he’d served most of his adult life behind bars.
The red beacon suddenly swirled above. A buzzing sound hummed as the cell doors clicked and slid open.
Breakfast.
—----
I pulled my tray along the bar to be loaded with oats, powdered eggs and bread.
Meager rations.
I grabbed a small carton of milk and made my way over to sit with Pete. He was already nibbling on his toast while perusing a crossword puzzle.
We exchanged nods and I went to devouring the entirety of my plate.
Calories build muscle after all.
Which was something Pete had no interest in. He was a bookworm through and through. Rail thin too. When we’d met, I’d assumed it was from the drug problem he’d had on the outside, which ultimately landed him in incarceration. But come to find out it was just his metabolism and general lack of appetite.
“John…” He whispered.
I looked up from my feast.
He was looking to the corner of the cafeteria and I followed his gaze to see two men in lab coats surveying the crowd.
I grunted and squeezed the handle of my fork until my knuckles went white. The impulse of burying it into their throats was almost overwhelming.
“Their activity has been ramping up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been seeing them much more frequently as of late. They must be close to a breakthrough.”
“Breakthrough of what?” I furrowed my brow.
“Who knows? Whatever it is they are doing down there. They’ve been taking us more often as well.”
Pete sighed at the twist of confusion on my face.
“Think about it… Benny last night, then Tom two weeks before that. Then Eric ten days before that, and Deonte maybe three weeks prior. It’s never been that close together. Until recently, they only came perhaps once every other month. Sometimes only once a season.”
Shit… he was right. I hadn’t realized it before.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, shoving another hunk of egg into my mouth.
“I have no idea. But I’d say our odds of survival have been reduced dramatically.”
—-----
Pete might as well have been an oracle, peering into our grim and desolate future.
Over the next several months we started seeing the lab coats weekly. Sometimes even more often than that.
The prison yard felt empty. Sure there were still plenty of us left, but our population had been noticeably trimmed. One gang in particular only had two members left, which didn’t bode well for them. The others slowly circled them like sharks. I had no affiliation with any of them and kept to myself. But still, I could see their fate a mile away.
Although, despite the business as usual dog eat dog atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of fear rippling through the general pop. You could smell it, like a scent of decay and desperation. Hard faces that had once promised violence, now almost flinched around every corner and jumped at each shadow.
The energy of a couple of hundred men that felt like an animal backed into a corner was palpable.
But what could we do?
I didn’t know but I sure wish someone would tell me… I threw myself into my workouts and Pete hardly ever looked up from a book. Escapism was our only reprieve.
I went to bed with a prayer on my lips, hoping I wouldn’t hear those iron bars moving in the late hours of the night.
—-----
A loud clanking followed by footsteps pulled me from sleep.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut hoping it was the cell next to mine.
But it wasn’t…
Three guards hovered behind a fourth that was unlocking our cell. The bars clicked and began to slide open.
I jumped to my feet and backed up against the wall. I pulled my fists up into a boxing stance, I wasn’t going to go without a fight. My muscles tensed and flexed like coiled steel.
“In the corner inmate! We’re here for your cellmate.” A short and stocky corrections officer barked with his hand gripping the baton at his waist.
Pete squirmed into a ball at the corner of his mat and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I put my face in the opposite corner as instructed. A mixture of fear and relief roiled in my gut, and I hated myself for it. It made me feel like a coward.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I heard Pete squeal from behind as guards flooded the cell.
I peaked over my shoulder and watched as they pried him from the top bunk. Pete tried to resist, but there was nothing to him. A bag of bones that they easily wrestled down.
That same fire ignited in my chest. Anger washed over me, cleansing away the cowardice. For God’s sake, he was my only friend.
All I could see was red.
I spun around bringing the back of my fist across a guard’s face, shattering the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from it as he dropped Pete’s legs.
With a giant step forward I brought an uppercut into the portly officer’s abdomen, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
I shoved a third into the corner, pinning him there as I screamed for Pete to run. He scampered out the opening and the last thing I heard were his footfalls as a baton smashed across the back of my skull. Everything went black before I even hit the ground.
—-----
I spent a month in solitary.
The room was so small it should have been inhumane to house a human being inside of it.
Still… I made the best of it with dips, pushups and situps. Countless reps of them. It was all I could do.
Some mornings I’d wake up with horrible migraines. I assumed it was a slight concussion from the impact of the baton.
I only hoped Pete could have somehow made it out. But somewhere deep down I knew that would have been impossible. Hopefully he at least gave them some hell before they took him below.
I stopped praying before bed. It didn’t seem like it did any good.
If there was a God, he didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
—-------
When I finally got back to my cell it had been emptied of everything. Pete’s books, artwork from his niece and even my Maxim cutout.
Just like he’d never existed. My heart sunk at the sight.
Later that day I’d learned from others that he had been captured just moments after escaping the cell.
But our actions weren’t wasted in vain.
We were the first to fight back against the abduction and it sparked something in the others.
They started talks of an uprising a few weeks back. A prison riot.
They even had a guard on the inside. C.O. Matthews. He was a very religious man and was just as horrified by what was happening as we were and had been looking for a way to help.
“It’s going down tonight John, just before lights out. Be ready.” Jerry whispered at the picnic table.
I gave a nod that I understood and headed off for my daily jog around the courts.
It wasn’t about getting out. Getting free. That wasn’t going to happen. It was about sending a message.
I let my mind go blank, filling with static as I enjoyed what could be my last day outside.
—------
The beacon swirled overhead in the common area.
“Inmates to their cells. Lights out.” The intercom buzzed.
There were over fifty men in cell block B, and not a single one of us moved.
The voice on the intercom repeated himself angrily as guards began to shuffle in closer. Nods passed like dominoes from one inmate to the next. We were ready.
“Get to your cell inmate.” a guard growled as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders.
I threw an elbow behind me into his groin, he howled in pain as he hit the floor. The other inmates sprung to their feet and flew off from their leaning places to join in the brawl.
Fists, feet and batons flew wildly across the cell block as we engaged in war with the uniformed officers.
I grappled with one until I was able to submit him in a choke until he went limp in my arms.
I stomped another in the face, spilling blood and brains on the concrete floor.
It had looked like we were winning until they sent the special response team in. We formed a line, many of us battered and bloody, in front of the row of riot shields.
We waited for their charge for what felt like an eternity.
But suddenly they backed out from where they’d come and slid the cell block doors closed.
What the hell…
The red beacon swirled once again overhead as a clicking sounded out behind us.
The rear entrance that the lab coats had always used swung open. I spun around to see…
“Mary, mother of God.” I gasped.
It was Pete…
But there was something horribly wrong with him.
His skin clung loosely to his body and had a terrible jaundice looking hue to it. His eyes almost seemed to glow and his hands… they were impossibly large like contorted branches.
I held my hand up to my mouth in disbelief.
A scientist stepped out from behind him.
“As you can see, we have a few kinks left to iron out, but we are making great progress. Would you all care to see what he can do?” He looked into each of our eyes inquisitively.
“If you don’t, head back to your cells now. You have ten seconds and then I shall release him.”
It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. But a violent and hungry energy filled the room, emanating from what used to be my friend.
Suddenly, over half the remaining inmates bolted for their cells out of fear. Not that I could blame them, my knees wobbled and threatened to buckle just at the sight of him.
But I stood my ground, as did a handful of others.
“Very well then. Specimen 3-1-0, engage.”
A growl reverberated through the cell block.
“Everyone rush him at once! It’s our only shot.” I hollered.
And we did, but it didn’t matter. It happened so fast. It was over before I could even comprehend it.
He moved like an animal, picking each of us apart almost in unison.
I lay on my back, unable to feel my legs as I watched Jerry be disemboweled. He was trying to shove his intestines back inside the tear in his abdomen before the creature came back to finish him off.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray.
As Pete stood over me, with dead eyes, I knew there was no God.
He didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.

I stared up at the magazine cut out of a Maxim model that was crudely pasted on the underside of the top bunk. Her pert breast shimmied ever so slightly as Pete tossed and turned above.
She was platinum blonde with legs long enough to wrap around me twice. Or so the camera angle made it seem. I felt a stirring below, that yearning for a woman’s touch… which I hadn’t felt in six years, three months, and eleven days.
I rolled to my side, stifling it. It was the wrong time to seek out an orgasm, and I knew after the release I’d just spiral into self-loathing anyway. I focused on a crack in the cinder block until my eyelids became heavy.
Static pushed the thought of women from my mind as I slipped into sleep. The smell of cigars and oil flitted through my mind in a memory. My dad’s repair shop. The one I was meant to take over, before the arrest…
------
“Aaaarrgghh!”
A cry echoing from somewhere deep within the prison startled me awake. My heart thundered in my chest like a rabbit thrashing against its cage.
I rolled over to see Pete crouching low, his face pressed against the bars.
“What’s going on?” I croaked.
“They’re taking Benny.” He whispered.
“Fuck, really?” I pulled myself to the top corner of my mattress, just enough to peer around the edge of the bars.
Two guards wrestled the young latino onto a gurney as a man in a lab coat watched from a distance. He fought against them but it was futile. Once the straps were locked in he screamed once more, pleading for help.
Dozens of eyes watched from dim lit cells, none of which stirring to offer assistance in the slightest. We knew there was no helping him. We knew what happened next…
His cries were muffled as the doctor jammed a syringe into the base of his neck. Benny’s muscles tensed and pulsed in the fit of a seizure, but then lay still. The cell block was silent once more as they wheeled him down the hall and into the catacombs.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray. Once they took them, they never came back.
“A damn shame…” I muttered.
“Yeah, he was a good kid…” Pete stood and leapt back onto the top bunk.
A fire burned in my chest. I wanted to say something. To cry out about the injustice of what was happening to us. That committing a crime shouldn’t damn a man to whatever terrible fate they had instore for us below three feet of steel and a quarter mile of dirt.
But I didn’t… What good could it do? Other than drawing attention to me in a very negative way.
Once they took you to the lab, you were never seen again.
All you could do was hope that your number was never called, and that you got out of here before they visited your cell late into the night.
—-----
87…88…89…90…
My chest was on fire as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t go back to sleep last night. Kept thinking about Benny.
91…92…93…
So began the push-ups. It was the only way to clear my head.
94…95…96…
My therapy.
97…98…99…100.
I rolled to my back, out of breath.
Three years, six months and change.
So much time left to go.
Benny had only been here for a little over a year. It made no sense…
None of us could figure out exactly why they took who they took. There seemed to be no method to the madness.
Just a couple weeks ago they took old man Tom Finch. He’d been here longer than any of us. A lifer on the account of premeditated murder back in the 70s. But they didn’t come for him until he’d served most of his adult life behind bars.
The red beacon suddenly swirled above. A buzzing sound hummed as the cell doors clicked and slid open.
Breakfast.
—----
I pulled my tray along the bar to be loaded with oats, powdered eggs and bread.
Meager rations.
I grabbed a small carton of milk and made my way over to sit with Pete. He was already nibbling on his toast while perusing a crossword puzzle.
We exchanged nods and I went to devouring the entirety of my plate.
Calories build muscle after all.
Which was something Pete had no interest in. He was a bookworm through and through. Rail thin too. When we’d met, I’d assumed it was from the drug problem he’d had on the outside, which ultimately landed him in incarceration. But come to find out it was just his metabolism and general lack of appetite.
“John…” He whispered.
I looked up from my feast.
He was looking to the corner of the cafeteria and I followed his gaze to see two men in lab coats surveying the crowd.
I grunted and squeezed the handle of my fork until my knuckles went white. The impulse of burying it into their throats was almost overwhelming.
“Their activity has been ramping up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been seeing them much more frequently as of late. They must be close to a breakthrough.”
“Breakthrough of what?” I furrowed my brow.
“Who knows? Whatever it is they are doing down there. They’ve been taking us more often as well.”
Pete sighed at the twist of confusion on my face.
“Think about it… Benny last night, then Tom two weeks before that. Then Eric ten days before that, and Deonte maybe three weeks prior. It’s never been that close together. Until recently, they only came perhaps once every other month. Sometimes only once a season.”
Shit… he was right. I hadn’t realized it before.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, shoving another hunk of egg into my mouth.
“I have no idea. But I’d say our odds of survival have been reduced dramatically.”
—-----
Pete might as well have been an oracle, peering into our grim and desolate future.
Over the next several months we started seeing the lab coats weekly. Sometimes even more often than that.
The prison yard felt empty. Sure there were still plenty of us left, but our population had been noticeably trimmed. One gang in particular only had two members left, which didn’t bode well for them. The others slowly circled them like sharks. I had no affiliation with any of them and kept to myself. But still, I could see their fate a mile away.
Although, despite the business as usual dog eat dog atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of fear rippling through the general pop. You could smell it, like a scent of decay and desperation. Hard faces that had once promised violence, now almost flinched around every corner and jumped at each shadow.
The energy of a couple of hundred men that felt like an animal backed into a corner was palpable.
But what could we do?
I didn’t know but I sure wish someone would tell me… I threw myself into my workouts and Pete hardly ever looked up from a book. Escapism was our only reprieve.
I went to bed with a prayer on my lips, hoping I wouldn’t hear those iron bars moving in the late hours of the night.
—-----
A loud clanking followed by footsteps pulled me from sleep.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut hoping it was the cell next to mine.
But it wasn’t…
Three guards hovered behind a fourth that was unlocking our cell. The bars clicked and began to slide open.
I jumped to my feet and backed up against the wall. I pulled my fists up into a boxing stance, I wasn’t going to go without a fight. My muscles tensed and flexed like coiled steel.
“In the corner inmate! We’re here for your cellmate.” A short and stocky corrections officer barked with his hand gripping the baton at his waist.
Pete squirmed into a ball at the corner of his mat and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I put my face in the opposite corner as instructed. A mixture of fear and relief roiled in my gut, and I hated myself for it. It made me feel like a coward.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I heard Pete squeal from behind as guards flooded the cell.
I peaked over my shoulder and watched as they pried him from the top bunk. Pete tried to resist, but there was nothing to him. A bag of bones that they easily wrestled down.
That same fire ignited in my chest. Anger washed over me, cleansing away the cowardice. For God’s sake, he was my only friend.
All I could see was red.
I spun around bringing the back of my fist across a guard’s face, shattering the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from it as he dropped Pete’s legs.
With a giant step forward I brought an uppercut into the portly officer’s abdomen, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
I shoved a third into the corner, pinning him there as I screamed for Pete to run. He scampered out the opening and the last thing I heard were his footfalls as a baton smashed across the back of my skull. Everything went black before I even hit the ground.
—-----
I spent a month in solitary.
The room was so small it should have been inhumane to house a human being inside of it.
Still… I made the best of it with dips, pushups and situps. Countless reps of them. It was all I could do.
Some mornings I’d wake up with horrible migraines. I assumed it was a slight concussion from the impact of the baton.
I only hoped Pete could have somehow made it out. But somewhere deep down I knew that would have been impossible. Hopefully he at least gave them some hell before they took him below.
I stopped praying before bed. It didn’t seem like it did any good.
If there was a God, he didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
—-------
When I finally got back to my cell it had been emptied of everything. Pete’s books, artwork from his niece and even my Maxim cutout.
Just like he’d never existed. My heart sunk at the sight.
Later that day I’d learned from others that he had been captured just moments after escaping the cell.
But our actions weren’t wasted in vain.
We were the first to fight back against the abduction and it sparked something in the others.
They started talks of an uprising a few weeks back. A prison riot.
They even had a guard on the inside. C.O. Matthews. He was a very religious man and was just as horrified by what was happening as we were and had been looking for a way to help.
“It’s going down tonight John, just before lights out. Be ready.” Jerry whispered at the picnic table.
I gave a nod that I understood and headed off for my daily jog around the courts.
It wasn’t about getting out. Getting free. That wasn’t going to happen. It was about sending a message.
I let my mind go blank, filling with static as I enjoyed what could be my last day outside.
—------
The beacon swirled overhead in the common area.
“Inmates to their cells. Lights out.” The intercom buzzed.
There were over fifty men in cell block B, and not a single one of us moved.
The voice on the intercom repeated himself angrily as guards began to shuffle in closer. Nods passed like dominoes from one inmate to the next. We were ready.
“Get to your cell inmate.” a guard growled as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders.
I threw an elbow behind me into his groin, he howled in pain as he hit the floor. The other inmates sprung to their feet and flew off from their leaning places to join in the brawl.
Fists, feet and batons flew wildly across the cell block as we engaged in war with the uniformed officers.
I grappled with one until I was able to submit him in a choke until he went limp in my arms.
I stomped another in the face, spilling blood and brains on the concrete floor.
It had looked like we were winning until they sent the special response team in. We formed a line, many of us battered and bloody, in front of the row of riot shields.
We waited for their charge for what felt like an eternity.
But suddenly they backed out from where they’d come and slid the cell block doors closed.
What the hell…
The red beacon swirled once again overhead as a clicking sounded out behind us.
The rear entrance that the lab coats had always used swung open. I spun around to see…
“Mary, mother of God.” I gasped.
It was Pete…
But there was something horribly wrong with him.
His skin clung loosely to his body and had a terrible jaundice looking hue to it. His eyes almost seemed to glow and his hands… they were impossibly large like contorted branches.
I held my hand up to my mouth in disbelief.
A scientist stepped out from behind him.
“As you can see, we have a few kinks left to iron out, but we are making great progress. Would you all care to see what he can do?” He looked into each of our eyes inquisitively.
“If you don’t, head back to your cells now. You have ten seconds and then I shall release him.”
It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. But a violent and hungry energy filled the room, emanating from what used to be my friend.
Suddenly, over half the remaining inmates bolted for their cells out of fear. Not that I could blame them, my knees wobbled and threatened to buckle just at the sight of him.
But I stood my ground, as did a handful of others.
“Very well then. Specimen 3-1-0, engage.”
A growl reverberated through the cell block.
“Everyone rush him at once! It’s our only shot.” I hollered.
And we did, but it didn’t matter. It happened so fast. It was over before I could even comprehend it.
He moved like an animal, picking each of us apart almost in unison.
I lay on my back, unable to feel my legs as I watched Jerry be disemboweled. He was trying to shove his intestines back inside the tear in his abdomen before the creature came back to finish him off.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray.
As Pete stood over me, with dead eyes, I knew there was no God.
He didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.

First
Capes and Conundrums
“This is so much fun! I didn’t think that something like this was around here before!” Migalla says and her mother laughs.
“Last time we were here you were so small that chasing the family Purriz was the most excitement you’d get in a day Migalla.”
“Mom!” Migalla protests as Echosong giggles.
“Daughter!” She says back in amusement as they climb in through the window of the building that the clue they had frisked from those very fetching men had on them. If she wasn’t a married woman then she’d be looking to cure that with these men. They were clearly both dedicated and fun loving with all the shame of an exhibitionist but the self control you need from a soldier.
A pity her little Migalla is still a little too young to do more than occasionally have a wandering hand or find herself staring. The sort of thing you chide someone for or at worst give them a swat or two to get them to stop. Although... at this rate... between the sheer amount of CHEST shown by ‘Maxie Zeus’ and how tight the suit on ‘Firefly’ was... she might start developing a little early in the interest category.
“So... what IS your name ma’am? Did that... Mighty Zeus say it right when he called you Nyx?” Echosong asks and The Huntress perks up a little before letting out a bit of a laugh.
“Oh! Oh this must have been awkward! Oh no, my name is Migalla as well. It’s tradition in my family that the tenth daughter is always named Migalla. Little Migalla here is my tenth born and I am tenth born to my own mother, who was ninth born.”
“So Migalla and Migalla? How does that...”
“Call me Patience. It’s the family name after all. Huntsmistress Migalla Patience, and my adorable daughte Huntress in training Migalla Patience.”
“And granddaughter of Huntsmistress Migalla Patience right?”
“Actually mother’s a botanist. When all three of us are in a room she’s Doctor Migalla.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Patience responds with a very amused tone. “Now if you get my great aunt in the room then Huntsmistress Migalla will get more than one answer. Much like Huntress in training Migalla will get my adorable little girl and at least three cousins.”
“Family reunions must be a lot of fun.” Echosong states as she tries to make sense of the strange acoustics of this place. There’s no echo despite the fact their should be. Furthermore there’s utter darkness and no source of light. But the light should be moving past certain areas. Something’s going on. What though? She’s not sure.
“The Migalla table at the gathering is always full of the funniest and most confusing conversations.” Migalla says and Echosong laughs. Migalla then smiles at a memory. “Mom, was it Migalla or Migalla that was telling Migalla that last time she saw Migalla she was in a fight with Migalla and it was such a relief to see her and Migalla had made up?”
“Yes, yes it was. Now back to the game at hand... we’re looking for a Ra’s Al Ghul. Some kind of immortal mad eco-terrorist that wishes to crash economies, destroy cities and leave the nature of the world pristine.” Patience notes.
“Wrong world for that. If we let that happen then Skathac gets set on fire again and again.” Echosong notes. “Also... hang on... I have the booklet here. Right! The resurrection method he uses has been slowly driving him insane.”
“Insane little creature? How very base and untoward to use such childish insults.” A refined voice with a slight accent states clearly.
“Speakers, he could be anywhere between here and Centris.” Patience warns.
“Indeed I can miss... Patience was it? Hmm... I expected the detective. I am torn between concern and relief that the rest of the sleeping masses upon this wretched and ruined world are beginning to awaken. Tell me, will you use your awareness and strength to save the world, or doom it?”
“Skathac isn’t a world that needs saving, it needs saving from.” Migalla states in an incredulous tone.
“Seriously old man! Haven’t you been outside? It’s a roasty nine hundred and eighty degrees outside the thermal shields! And it’s the cooler part of the year!” Echosong exclaims.
“I am certain that the world will cool when...”
“What craziness are you up to this time Ra’s? Are you sure you don’t need a retirement home?” Patience mocks him and there’s a silence.
“I am certain that...”
“They even have diapers your size now! So you don’t even have to figure out where the bathroom is!”
“Migalla that’s too far! Incontinence is nothing to joke about. Unless it’s funny.” Patience chides her before laughing.
“Mercenary, get in there.” Ra’s states coldly. Suddenly the darkness is pulled away revealing the warehouse they’re in to be a full of machinery and the trick they used to disguise this to be sound absorbing curtains that blended perfectly in the darkness.
They’re surrounded. Dozens of men in black outfits and only their eyes exposed glaring down. But most importantly are two. One an older looking man with a pointed hairstyle, grey streaks in his beard and a high collared green cape on. The other a very large and powerfully built man in black and grey armour with a half orange facemask. He looks like he walked right out of the Teen Titans cartoon.
“Decisions, decisions...” Deathstroke states.
“I am not paying you dither. Attack!” Ra’s Al Ghul orders and Deathstroke MOVES. His open palm slams into Patient’s stomach and sends her skidding backwards even as her footclaws dig into the concrete below. She leaves four foot long trenches and staggers back a step to regain her footing.
She deflects his left jab, blocks the right cross and then takes a brutal kick to the side of the knee and is sent sprawling. However she still has more limbs to play and her knife hand slams into the sides of his stomach in a powerful cross chop. She gets an impression of far more organs in there than most life, and she knows she hit at least one of them painfully.
His answer is a snap kick that takes her in the stomach and sends her staggering.
Meanwhile Migalla and Echosong are set upon by the ninja horde with a single wordless command from Ra’s. Echosong responds by letting out a sonic scream infused with Axiom that batters back at least three of them and send them sprawling in midair to crash into the machinery uselessly.
Migalla on the other hand jumps back at them and with Axiom infused hands coutners their swords and, after a bit of fumbling, grabs them by the shirt and tries to land on a pipe. She slips and begins to slide backwards, but she wraps her tail around it and firms her footing so they turn on the pipe instead and simply fall off. Leaving her hanging upside down with a ninja in each pair of arms.
She gives them both a few shacks before bonking them together and then dropping them before shifting and skittering to the top of the pipe instead.
She’s then met by a pair of ninjas to either side. She takes a stance that allows both of them access to her sides and uses Axiom to expand her field of vision. Fighting off two people at once will be tricky. But with her four arms and tail, they’ve got a grand total of one limb on her. Hopefully it won’t make that much difference.
Patience meanwhile is having a blast. Deathstroke... or is he Slade when he’s more Teen Titans style? Anyways, Mister Wilson is all sorts of fun. Sure, she has a few limbs on him. The tail nearly gets him as she sweeps for the legs or stabs with the blade, but he downright slithers out of the way of that, showing that he’s as flexible as he’s physically strong and... and...
“Tell me Mister Wilson... do you offer lessons?” Patience asks.
“Oh?” Slade asks. Nothing grand in his tone as he deflects two attacks and shifts to the side to try and get her with an elbow. Unfortunately there’s a distinct lack of organs in the place he hits her, and he’d have had more impact if he slammed into her thigh instead.
“Oh yes... I’m a married woman, but if I could my husband to MOVE like you do... He’s not much of a fighter your see.”
“A brawl before bed to spice up the marital life?” Slade asks in a scornful tone.
“Something like that. A poet can make a woman melt with words alone, but there’s something to be said if he can scoop her up afterwards to carry her to bed.” Patience says and there’s a scoff from under the mask.
“Okay, that needs to come off.” She insists making a grab for the mask. It’s latched on though and it’s not coming off.
She gets a flurry of body shots as she tries to grab at the helmet and then as she lunges for it again she’s instead grabbed and the flip is turned into a hammer throw that sends her hurtling through the factory. She aborts the flight by twisting in the air and grabbing the underside of a walkway and stopping her flight.
She paces along the underside of the walkway, easily keeping grip as she keeps track of Slade. Who throws down a smoke bomb and she senses movement behind her. Her tail lashes out but something binds it and she decides to go all out.
The metal of the walkway bends and cracks under her sheer strength as she bursts through the underside of it to attack Slade, only to find his solid boot slamming into the top of her head with enough force to break her grip, break the line he tied her with and break the pipe underneath them clean through.
“Oh!... Oh wow! You’re good!”
“Of course I am...” Slade begins even as the walkway he’s standing on creaks and groans. It then snaps under his feet and he falls. He falls in perfect control as he angles himself to avoid the edges of the pipe and he lands in a crouch right in front of Patience. “Deathstroke The Terminator.”
“I think this is a bit much for most contestants.”
“You’re a bit much for mere level four. We have you on record fighting Lava Serpents without protective gear and with only the most basic weapons. You can handle it big girl.” Deathstroke The Terminator states. “Now then. Shall we?”
Her response is a lightning fast charge that phases right through him. She skids to a stop and turns. Red runes are glowing over his armour with a jagged mark over his forehead.
“Really?” Patience asks.
“Really.” Deathstroke says before gesturing and half the equipment in the factory hurls itself at her. The Huntsmistress laughs in glee at the challenge.
While mother was having her fun, Migalla was having some of her own. She had managed to swipe a quartet of swords from the ninja and wasn’t so much as using them as flailing them around in their vague directions as she swung from her tail. On the walkway above a Ninja finally gets up there and dislodges her tail, causing her to start to fall, but Echosong swoops in, grabs her and helps her stick the landing even as she sweeps with her Axiom infused voice.
Between the blades, the fury and the scream the ninja fall back and one of them is dramatically killed by Ra’s Al Ghul.
“Incompetent fool.” The older man says in a dark tone as he bares the ‘bloody’ (sauce covered) falchion. “All of you. Out. I will deal with this myself.”
The ninjas scatter and Ra’s Al Ghul throws away his cloak to reveal that he has an armoured vest, pants and boots underneath. “A pity that one can only depend on a mercenary. I will need to increase my training of them.”
In the background Deathstroke’s and Patience’s fight has escalated into a two person war. Literal magic is being used on both sides as Slade reveals enormous teleportion, pyrokinesis and just kinesis in general as Patience shows that she can easily match the teleportation. Knows her way around throwing lightning and can cause the ground to quake with every move she makes.
“Now then. Let us begin.” Ra’s states before suddenly charging them both. Migalla’s swords are outright shattered against his falchion in a single swipe and the round kick to the side sends her sprawling as Echosong opens up with a sonic scream.
He DODGES the scream and lands some feet away, skidding from the sheer speed of the movement.
“All this effort and you still haven’t fully uncovered the plan. I expected more of someone taking up The Detective’s mantle. Perhaps his faith in you is misplaced?”
​
First Last

Hi everyone!
So my car is a 2007 Toyota Camry and it's a Canadian model which means it does have DRL but they can't be disable. The DRLs are run by the high beam and It seems to be a DC PWM signal because I see my led flashing really fast + they are dimmed but my multimeter picks up a 12VDC. I can confirm once I take the time to verify with my oscilloscope. When I put my high beam on, they are also in 12V DC but they are really brighter and they don't flicker. I'm doing a retrofit and I'm installing some Diode dynamics Halo switchback that will be used as DRL and turn signal. I'm also swapping the halogen projector for a morimoto mini H1 8.0 with a solenoid to move the cut off shield when the high beam is on.
Here's the problem, when the car is in DRL mode, the solenoid goes crazy because it's moving the cutoff shield really fast on and off. Plus, it's pretty ugly to have the high beam leds flicker in DRL mode with those new halos that are bright with no flicker because I use a DC source
My question is, is there a circuit/board to block any PWM signal but can let through a constant DC voltage when i flip my high beam on ? And if so, how can i build it or where to buy it.?
I'm nowhere near an expert in electronic circuit but i'm not afraid to solder and learn.
Thanks!
Sorry for my english, it's not my primary language.

“MOM!” I screamed till my lungs held no air and my throat bled, I raced across the field and grasped the sheet metal roof with my entire palm, cutting my flesh and shredding my skin against the hot sharp edges. I pulled with all my might, raising the roof barely an inch before I collapsed in tears and reached for my moms hand. Her eyes were cloudy and tears ran down her face. “Its ok my son, its all gonna be ok, you need to find your father now” I nodded and wrapped my arms around her head “Ill be right back mama, dad can get this off of you, im sure of it” A jeep raced by and stopped with a screech as the tires left small skids along the tarmac, the base captain stood up from the drivers seat and screamed to me “Lets go! We gotta get you outta here” I leapt into the back sat and clung to the pole, standing atop the back seat as the captain slammed his foot against the pedal and raced across the runway. “No good on the escape cap, I gotta get my dad, my moms trapped under the barracks” He looked back at me for a second and I looked down to him, my hair flowing in the wind and sweat pouring down, mixing with the blood that ran down my cheek. “Good god kid how are you even standing right now?” I veered and scanned the horizon, my eyes falling upon a set of distant lights dancing across the sky. I pointed up to the darker of the two massive vehicles that were locked in mid air combat “Up there, thats dads machine, whos he fighting?” The base captain looked up and leaned forward squinting his eyes and falling silent as he did. He stopped the jeep and sat there, mouth open, eyes glued to the sky. I shook him and repeated the question. “Yo, theres no time for this, who is that?” The captain shook his head and spoke calmly “Theres plenty of time kid, none of us are surviving this…here” He reached down and grabbed a folder from the passenger glovebox, the wind flipping the top as he handed me the bundle of papers. I flipped through until I recognized a file photo. It was almost the exact same design as my fathers machine, the most powerful in the world, but it was darker, and there had been a skull painted on the visor of the mechs gigantic head. It held a long flat edged blade and from the look of the picture, it was taken only seconds before the gory demise of whoever took it. “So the reapers made his way to american shores. So what? This changes nothing. Dad can take him” I leapt out of the jeep and made a beeline for the nearest hangar as the captain shouted from behind me “Hey kid! Get back here, what the hell do you think youre doing?” I barreled into the hangar doors, taking no time to feel the pain my shoulder was now in from having smacked the thick metal door. I wrenched with all my might and threw open the rolling entrance shutter. The lights flickered on as the eyes of my own machine stared back at me, offline and still in desparate need of repair “Im getting in, no time for chitchat captain I need you to give me startup” He shook his head as he leapt out of the jeep and walked toward me “Youre only 11, getting in that machine could kill you, or worse it could actually start up and become a big ass metal coffin. Do you think your parents would want that?” I spoke under my breath for a moment “Better a metal coffin covered in weapons then a wooden one covered in bullshit” He huffed at me “God where do you get this nerve…Oh wait…right…son of the admiral…Alright screw it, were dead either way, get up in the cockpit” I smiled at him and pulled myself into the chest high compartment, sitting in the seat and buckling the main cross belt. “Strapped in captain, starting sequence, can you disconnect me?” He nodded and sprinted around the back of the machines tall legs, pulling the various diagnostic cables and wrenching the stilts from its knees. I looked at the gaff tape I had put inside, following the sequence I had mapped out when i first got the machine, switching the core on and letting the fans spin up. The captain yelled over the noise as the machine whirred to life and stood up. I heard his voice come through the internal speakers “Damn, guess your repairs actually got somewhere. Listen, your internal batteries only good for about 15 minutes, get your mom and then swing back here, if you want any semblance of a chance then youre gonna need a rechar-” I pushed the gears forward and exploded out of the hangar, banking right and hitting the air brakes. The machine flipped forward and threw the wings into gear, sending me rocketing across the tarmac, now 100 tons heavier and 2000 times stronger. I slid to a stop next to my home barracks and knelt down, letting the scanners pinpoint my mother and allowing the hydraulics ample time to adjust before gently grabbing the roof of the building, and pulling up slowly. The captains jeep screeched to a halt next to me as he raced from the car and knelt down beside my mother. He inspected her body for a moment before falling to his knees entirely. I threw the roof and opened the hatchway, launching out of the cockpit and hitting the ground hard next to them. “Shes ok right?” The captain shook his head and put his hand on my shoulder, the smoke stung my eyes as the various fires filled the air with toxic fumes. “There wouldnt have been anything to do, she took too much force from the collapse, im sorry” I shook my head as tears flowed from my eyes “Shes just fucking with us. Mom! Wake up! Youre funny like this but nows not the time weve gotta go and help dad” I shook her shoulders, first gently, then more forcefully as I tried to wake her. I flipped her and her glossy lifeless eyes stared at the sky, still crying. “Shes gone kid, im so sorry” I let out a sob as I knelt down and put my head on her chest “Its not your fault, its mine, I shouldnt have left her, we should have never been attacked” He put a hand on my shoulder and gently rubbed my back “I should have been more aware, im the captain here, its my job to be aware” I rose and gently put my palm over her eyes, closing them with my hand and taking a deep breath through stifled sobs. “You do your best, all the time, its why we respect you. I need you to watch after my mom now, I need to go help dad make sure this doesnt happen to anyone else” He stood up and put his hands up, pushing me back softly and speaking in a low tone “No way kid, you need to grieve, i cant let you back in there in the condition youre in, Ill pilot, or ill call reinforcements, youll be no match” I smiled and moved past him “Id rather bite it in the sky with my dad then sit here and stare at my mom, I cant idle captain” He nodded and bit his lip in thought “Ok…ok…then maybe I can help better. Here, face me” I turned toward him and took a deep breath “We dont have time for this man come o-” He yelled “Face me soldier” I turned fully and stood at attention, my face inquisitive “Ok, ok, what” He brought his hand up to his torso “Ensign Rath, repeat after me and follow suit” I brought my hand up to my own torso and made a fist just as he did “Yes sir” He smiled wide and spoke with authority “I, Ensign Rath” I nodded and repeated “I Ensign Rath” “Accept the rank of Lieutenant O3” I smiled wide and nodded “Accept the rank of Lieutenant O3” He nodded and continued “And vow to use the weapons this rank has been assigned to take on the greatest of threats” The plan clicked in my mind and I continued to follow suit “And vow to use the weapons this rank has been assigned to take on the greatest of threats” As I finished he saluted me and spoke solemnly “It is with great honor and harrowing guilt that I now present you the rank of Lieutenant O3 in the united states naval defense office. I present you with temporary access to the associated weapons in upgrades, and I now release you into the arms of whichever god you so worship, Suit up, and fight like the warrior spirits that have fallen before you” I shook his hand and nodded, feeling pride replace my guilt as I saluted and turned toward my machine. I leapt into the cockpit and stood tall, the captains voice came over my internal speaker “Im heading to valhalla, Hit the skies and get in the fight, ill send a support pack in 2 minutes with 2 hours of extended run time and all the other things youll need to throw down alongside your father. This bases continued operation now relies on the two of you, I know youve had limited training, and some of the controls might even be too far for you to operate properly, but youre a warrior now” I took off into the air, engaging my thrusters and cutting through the clouds like a fiery razor. As rain hit my screen and the distant clap of thunder rolled through, I scanned the surroundings for my father and his machine. I didnt have to look long till he barreled into me while recovering from a glancing blow. “RATH WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING UP HERE” My fathers booming voice shook my brain and rattled my core “Im here to support” He raised his shield and deflected another swing from the reaper, filling the sky with sparks as the flat blade cut across his defense “Get out of here now, where is your mother?” I fell silent as he grabbed my machine with his own and jetted away “Rath! Answer me, why isnt she watc-” I heard him realize, I could feel his heart sink as we stopped in the midst of an anvil cloud, and i could barely see his form in front of me. When a pilot takes his hands off the controls, the machine typically centers its arms to avoid unintended movement, and I could only see the silhouette of his wings as a deep breath came over my intercom “Im so sorry my son, I should have been down there” I shook my head and spoke softly “Then wed all be dead pops, just like the captain you were doing your job as best as you could. Weve got all the time in the world to mourn later, but right now weve gotta make sure this bastard cant pave the way for his friends” I felt the support pack collide with my machine and the cockpit lit up bright as I watched my uptime increase “You make a fair point son, alright, normally id tell you to hit the ground but today I suppose we'll make an exception. Did you receive proper clearance?” The packs armor crawled along my frame and locked in, covering the various dents and scrapes that had been so characteristic of my mech. The improved wings swung into place and I heard the lift fans spin to max. I moved my throttles forward and emerged from the cloud, the full shroud of my machine now dispersed and the new world open to me. “0-3 lieutenant Rath reporting for duty sir, happy to serve alongside you” He spoke calmly “Congratulations my son, your mother would be beyond proud” I reached behind me and remove the tall mace that came standard with almost all lieutenant support packages, but as the flat bulky blade came into view, I noticed a strange sigil on the shielding of the weapon. “Hey dad, any clue what this thing is?” I turned the mace toward him and he flew close “A gift from your mother, you werent supposed to see it for several years but it seems she finished it early. It was a sort of bug that used to be all over the place around here…called a butterfly. You loved them as a baby” I nodded and smiled “Ok, I wanna use this gift for a long time, you think we can beat this guy?” He huffed “Me and you? Were gonna turn him into a monument and stick his armor on display for the world to see” The sky split with lightning as the reaper crossed our paths and came to a stop just a few hundred yards away. As his machines deadly red eyes glowed antithesis to the bright morning sky, a foreign voice filled my cockpit. It held a thick baltic accent, and I knew it could only belong to one man. “You armor is shiny, new, you are young, inexperienced. I let you live, you escape, you till your friends, I kill you later, once you make others fear me” When I had built my machine, I had done so from scratch. I had added and removed things I felt would make me stronger then others, and while I was no heavier due to improved armor, I had still clocked in as the fastest machine in history. The rotors in my arms couldnt survive more then a few hits, the joints in my wrist werent durable enough to deliver full power trikes, but the engines that drove me could surpass all known aircraft and every recorded vehicle in land or air. “Come kill me now, I wanna see your face when I cut your armor in two” He grunted loudly and screamed at me as he flashed across the sky, drawing his blade and splitting the sunlight with speed. I held still and took a deep breath, before swinging, making contact with his arm and spinning mid air. I watched as the skull icon shattered beneath my mace and the sword glanced well below my feet. My father followd the strike with his own mace and drove his engines forward, propelling them both back into the lower sky. I tailed close behind, remembering the eyes of my mother as life escaped her body. With tears in my eye I screamed back “Youl pay today, and youll go broke!” I swung again and again as my father drove the two mechs faster and faster. I pulled the head from the reaper as my father pummeled it. I held it by a braid of cables and met my father in the air over and over. We blocked blows and chipped away, moving faster and faster as my arms grew sore and my voice grew hoarse.I felt my fathers full strength meet my own as we punched at the same time. My mechanical fist shattered inside the reapers torso and I heard a scream as his comms went silent. We watched together as his armor fell from the sky and exploded upon impact, sending a shockwave across the surface as the sound of the boom finally reached us. “Son, take her in for a landing, I know that seemed quick but youre most likely nearing your suits limit” I looked at my counter and noticed a dark red second screen, I had 1 minute and 45 seconds so I turned the engines off and entered a freefall, plummeting toward the earth before pulling them full plast and hovering just above the bases concrete landing pads. I watched my father gracefully swing downward and rocket toward the ground, spinning his feet once he hit the grass and disengaging his wings. His machine came to a halt just a few feet from his designated hanger and I dropped my own armor the ground, kneeling and leaping from the cockpit as i did so. I collapsed as I hit the pavement and my father came running over. He caught me before I could hit the ground and held me up by my arm. He was bloodier then I was but still moving with unparalleled strength. I coughed as he helped me hobble toward the runway before the captain parked next to us in his jeep and helped get me into the seat. My father sat in the passenger seat and leaned his head back, closing his eyes as I did the same. “You did good today son, get some rest and well take care of everything, youre too young for all of this, I'm so sorry” I took a deep breath and curled up in the back seat “Me too dad…me too”

Amid a galaxy of brutal chaos there are stories to be told, tales of valor and justice, of fear and despair. But amid these stories are the guttering flames of adventures untold, the potential for a universe of entertainment and savage joyous fun. The Oblivion Cycle embodies just this kind of crafted chaos, creating the potential for creative exploits and raucous tales. If you are new to the TOC setting feel free to join the community at TheOblivionCycle to check out some of the background lore or to discuss themes with other readers. I thank you all for your support and continued willingness to read, as always, Please Enjoy!
+ Next Part +
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A dark planet turned slowly in the void bathed in the light of an old yellow star far past its prime. The planet was old, unlike the countless beings that scurried across its blasted surface. From the vantage point of space far above, the gigantic craters that covered its surface were painfully apparent. Some terrible bombardment had nearly torn the planet in two sometime in its ancient history.
These were the thoughts foremost on the mind of the vast entity that observed the world from the depths of a large misshapen ship of truly gargantuan proportions. The ship orbited the planet far enough away to be unseen, a truly difficult task due to its almost moon-like size.
Deep in the ship’s core, a consciousness woke fully. This being had slumbered for millennia as they waited for the ship’s more automated systems to bring them to something interesting. As they awoke this entity checked the ships logs, two thousand years of reports were absorbed and compiled in mere millincrements such was the being’s incredible processing power.
They stretched mentally, running their consciousness throughout every lesser ten of the ship's millions of greater tens of circuits and wires. It had been centuries since they had last woken for more than a few increments, it was a good feeling.
The ship’s computer communicated with them. “Master Neel, It is good to have you with us.” the computer said nonverbally. The communication happening instead as a base impression across his many connections to the system all at once.
Neel observed the planet remotely using some of the vast worldship's many external sensors. After a few moments of observation Neel inquired the computer. “Have we traveled to this planet before?”
The computer replied quickly “I do not believe so, it bears passing resemblance to a planet we visited in the far past. But it can't be the same planet.” the computer concluded.
Neel frowned and then decided to exit his stasis chamber. The heavily shielded inner sanctum of the ship was a mess of electrical conduits and databanks that held his vast intellect when the ship was underway. Using faster than light means of propulsion could damage many of the curiosities in his vast collection and so for many tens of millions of greater increments he had traveled the cosmos slower than the speed of light.
While slow it was a deliberate action to protect him from the watchful eyes of the obliterators. The destroyers commonly kept watch over the cosmos and were known to eliminate those they could not contain or control. Neel had no wish to be destroyed and so took their time getting around for the sake of stealth. Even the destroyers would be unlikely to detect a single ship not breaking the natural laws in a vast and ever expanding universe.
Disengaging their mental locks, Neel disconnected from the artificial sanctuary and into their physical vessel. Their vessel was an artificial body of sorts, fashioned in a form that Neel found pleasing.
Their vessel was very tall with six manipulating tentacle-like metal arms and a multitude of pointed insect-like legs. Their face was a mess of tubes and wires with no discernible features other than the five bright green glowing eyes that stared out at the world around them intensely.
Neel’s consciousness settled down into the large body like it was a comfortable bed, an electronic sigh passing through them as they disconnected from the ship.
Neel started their vessel’s internal vacuum generators. Devices of their own design that drew electrical power directly from the quantum fluctuations of the universe. Quite a simple thing really, they must seem remarkable to those not nearly as versed as them in the nature of the universe. But Neel was well versed indeed, they knew the purpose of it all, and the dark knowledge often made them wish they had never discovered it.
Turning their attention back to their muted surroundings Neel activated the bridge’s lights with a thought. The ship was a part of them, though simultaneously separate. Together they made a complete entity, though Neel admitted that it was sometimes less distracting to be on their own instead of bonded to the Preserver. That was the name he had chosen for his worldship upon its completion. He had no memories of the event, or of how it had been built. Neither did the Preserver, instead Neel’s earliest coherent memory was that of light. Blinding light.
A star exploding and the ship jumping into emergency compression drive to escape the blast. They had arrived many light years away damaged and broken from the violent energies that had lashed the ship. But they had survived.
Neel scuttled across the deck and to one of the automated steering consoles. They double checked the ship’s course for accuracy and were satisfied to see no inherent issues.
Next they walked though the ship for a time to get to the records hall. They could have zipped there almost instantly with a thought, but they had always enjoyed the action of taking their time. They had a nearly infinite amount of it after all.
The Preserver chimed at them as they walked. “If you are going to the records hall to check the data I can give you access here and save you the trouble Master Neel.” The disembodied voice said in a modulated tone and frequency.
Neel waved a series of arms towards one of the many wall mounted sensors that the ship used to see and replied “Why? What would be the purpose of walking if not to enjoy the walk. I know you could have forwarded the data to me directly on the bridge, but there is a simplistic pleasure to taking one’s time. How many times have I told you that old friend.”
The ship was silent for a few increments as Neel scuttled down dimly lit metal passageways and through dusty hatches. They shook their head in a strange yet familiar motion as they took in the state of the ship. It was dirty, grimy almost.
Neel paused by a strange bundle of filaments and tested them with a single flexible manipulator digit. Plucking them curiously Neel found they seemed to be organic. In fact as they touched them they noticed a small and curious creature skuttle out of the dark in the direction of the disturbance. Delighted at this new and fascinating discovery they coaxed the small creature out into the light.
They observed it closely, zooming in on its features while scanning it in multiple electromagnetic spectrums. Neel found that the creature seemed to fluoresce in the ultraviolet spectrum, its small body covered in swirling organic patterns. It must be able to see into the ultraviolet spectrum Neel mused, otherwise what possible purpose could such patterning serve?
Reaching into a recess in their body they produced a specimen stasis capsule. Carefully scooping up the creature, they activated the micro stasis field generator and the small curiosity seemed to freeze in place. Replacing the container they then turned and continued along the corridor making a mental note to return and analyze the filaments more closely at a future time.
It took a little longer than Neel remembered to reach the great library, which made sense as the Preserver was constantly in flux. They entered the room and slowed to a halt. It always hit them when they entered into the massive space for the first time after a lengthy hibernation. The room was lit with bright yellowish lights high in the cavernous ceiling. The walls were covered in shelves and databanks, not a single square length was bare of some form of data storage medium.
Neel walked in amongst the towering shelves and ran their fingers along the uncountable thousands of books, manuscripts, scrolls and data crystals stored within small stasis cabinets. Hidden inside this sanctum was Neel’s life’s work, the compiled data of tens of thousands of worlds, millions of species and a billion years of searching the universe for something more.
Sometimes when the ship was traveling the void between stars Neel would come and spend years here, just absorbing the ancient knowledge. But today they were looking for something specific. Moving along to one of the many wall mounted dataports, they inserted a spike like digit from the end of a flexible tendril. The full enormity of the vast library exploded into their conscious mind, only their prodigious intelligence keeping them from being overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of data.
Searching for a while they found the folder they were looking for and accessed its location. Neel was in luck, it was remote accessible meaning they wouldn't have to traverse kilometers of this labyrinth to find the data. While that was usually an enjoyable experience, Neel found that their curiosity was overwhelming their patience.
The data filled their mind and Neel saw a planet spinning tranquilly in their mind's eye. The planet that bore a striking similarity to the one they now orbited, in fact, comparing the star logs and accounting for drift, the constellations were the same too. That proved it, they were in fact in the orbit of Ixninth, the evolutionary homeworld of the peaceful humbub.
Neel cocked their head, that was odd. The last time they had been in contact with the humbub their planet was nearing a full scale type one civilization. Full planetary control was theirs and they had taken the first tentative steps out into their solar system with a few far flung colonies and outposts in the orbit of the outer planets.
Now there was nothing, no evidence of the star realm they had once ruled. Something must have happened while Neel had been traveling through the cosmos. Something no doubt related to the strange crater-like formations on the planet’s surface.
Neel scanned the other planets in the system and found that most bore evidence of similar impacts, a few of the smaller moons seemed to have been obliterated entirely. Just the drifting charred remains in orbit of their scarred planets.
They addressed the computer once more verbally. “Preserver, we have indeed visited this system before. It is the humbub’s home system.”
The ship spoke through their implant, the disembodied voice cool and calm while it discussed topics of annihilation. “It would seem some sort of natural cataclysm must have befallen them then. There is evidence of incredible kinetic bombardment. Perhaps a rogue black hole disrupted the outer debris fields?’ the computer speculated blandly.
Neel looked back to the images of the systems battered planets. “I believe something terrible has happened here, are you sure there is no evidence of foul play? No signs of void conflict?”
They began to walk out of the library and towards the main atrium. The Preserver asked “Are you telling me to scan for debris or asking if I had already done so?”
Neel paused and apologised “Yes, I am sorry old friend. You have of course anticipated my question and scanned the area for wreckage. I can postulate based on your silence that you did not find any evidence to support the claim?”
Neel started walking again as the ship confirmed their observation. “I will of course continue to scan the area in case of potential hostile threats, but I do not expect to find anything of note. It looks like the act of a hostile universe, not the acts of barbaric lifeforms.”
Neel nodded again, this time entirely for their own benefit. That is about what they had been expecting anyways, if the growing theory in their mind was correct then they would likely find no evidence of foul play at all. At least, not in the conventional sense.
Perking up a little their green eyes shone bright as a new idea struck them. “Preserver, scan the main planet. Look for any signs of technology or ruins of technology. I will get to the bottom of this situation one way or another.”
The computer replied “Already started when it became clear to me you were set on this investigative action. I can report with ninety five percent certainty that there are no technological ruins on the planet. There is a large and well preserved ruin in the upper hemisphere. Would you like a scope on it?”
Neel waved at the air and replied “Yes, yes of course. Let me see what you have found.”
In their mind they saw the feed from one of the massive ship’s many outward facing telescopes. On the current one they saw it swivel towards the planet. Enhancing the image it zoomed in until Neel could almost count each blade of grass on the ground. In front of their very eyes was a large collection of half buried structures. While they did not look technological in origin, any clue to a history undiscovered was a good clue.
“Good work my friend, I will have to make sure we pull a flyby on a blue hypergiant giant so you can recharge your entanglement drives. You earned it.” They spoke to the Preserver in fondness.
The ship answered in a much more subdued manner “That would be appreciated Neel. My compression generators have been a bit chilly of late. I assume you will want to venture to the surface personally? May I suggest an assortment of weapons?”
Neel waved a hand as they entered the vast and colorful main atrium. It was only a few kilometers from the bridge, but it was a sight well worth the walk. That coupled with the fact that it connected directly to the small hangar bay where the many parasite ships were stored.
Neel walked across the room to the hangar and entered one of the small single occupant shuttles. The Preserver spoke once more in their mind. “If you are intent on going down to the surface would you at least let me launch an orbital observation platform to assist you?”
Neel paused at the controls and then said “Yes, might as well. You never know what’s going to happen in the future, that's what makes living in the present so exciting.”
***********
Jrax woke with a satisfied stretch, today was the day. He had been busy excavating the ruins of the forbidden zone in secret for almost a full year now. Only Zieve knew he was here, and the young man was unlikely to turn him in as he was just as interested in the mysteries of the ancients as he was.
Jrax stood to his feet and twisted at the waist in a futile attempt to crack his lower back. Unsuccessful he looked around, he couldn't see Zieve anywhere, usually the young man was out here before he had even had a chance for his morning zalv. The comforting warmth of a fresh cup of the dark orange liquid was a better wake up than anything else he had yet to discover. He had shown the benefits of drinking fresh zalv to a few of his colleges but it had yet to fully take off. Something about the dried and powdered fruit gave him a zest for life and alertness that was addictive in its effectiveness, and a little addictive in general.
But that was not the important reason he was here. He put a small pot of the mixture on the boil as he pulled his notebook out of his waist pouch. The small leather bound manuscript contained everything he knew of the ancients and their strange ways of life.
According to the few tablets and inscriptions he had so far recovered, the ancients lived in the void and traveled this strange realm of nonexistence in vast ships of solid metal. Why they would have needed to be made of metal made no sense to him. Surely wood would have been much lighter and cheaper? Maybe it was a style thing, from what he could gather the ancients made almost everything out of metal. Such was their vast power and wealth they were able to extract metal from the void itself.
This had always sat ill with him, everyone knew of the void, the space outside of reality. But surely they couldn't do such things as the void was empty, wasn't it? Perhaps the great teachings warning of the demons that lurked in the void were false after all. It was said that the void used to be full of life, an infinite world to build upon. One day the demons had come from beyond the realms of the humbub and devoured all that existed without till at last they rained fire and death upon Ixninth. The celestial realms of the humbub had been reduced to ashes and the survivors fled their metal cities in terror as they were consumed by the angry earth.
He shook his head. The mythos of their people was a fractured thing, handed down largely through word of mouth by millennia of terrified priests who had no real understanding of what they should be so afraid of.
He knew, it had been a hard truth to swallow but in his studies of the forbidden ruins he had made discoveries. Discoveries like the identity of their ancient destroyers.
They were not demons at all, they just looked like them, their bodies twisted and monstrous, their hunger for destruction nearly insatiable. They killed for fun and destroyed the remains, the fact that they hadn't killed all of the ancients was a miracle likely attributed to the paranoia of certain individuals. Places like these ruins had been ancient refuges to them, structures buried far into the guts of the mother earth called bunkers. An affront on nature, but necessary for the survival of their race.
It had taken thousands of years from what he had been able to gather before the planet was once more survivable on the surface. They left their ancient bunkers and found that all that once had been was no more. They had begun again.
Jrax was happy to be alive, especially knowing some of the struggle that his ancestors must have gone through just to survive. He put thoughts of such things out of mind and busied himself combing his fur. It wouldn't do to get mangey knots from a lack of self attention, he was a respectable scholar afterall.
His snout crinkled in a small snarl as he thought of Primo Haxix, the premiere leader of the Church of Brox in his home city of Broxix. The man was a devout follower of Brox’s teachings, and his most severe hurtle to spreading the truth of things. The closeminded man refused to see reason.
Done with his morning grooming he pulled on his open fronted work shirt, the rough fabric a little itchy against his fur but necessary to protect him from biting insects and the sun. It was hot near the ruins, the lack of vegetation one of the reasons the Primo called the land cursed. From what he had found it was no more cursed than any other piece of land, it had something to do with things called water concentrators he had discovered. He didn't understand the concept fully, but it seemed that the area was perpetually dry like the Neeix Desert to the south. A strange concept but it certainly explained why nothing would grow there.
Putting on his sandals and grabbing his excavation kit he slung the bag over his shoulder and started out of camp. He dodged around and through a thick copse of trees, his camp hidden from view in order to protect it from fanatics and the church’s spies. The area around the ruins was constantly under surveillance, he had been spotted a few times and chased but luckily his identity had never been uncovered.
He checked that the coast was clear and then made a quick transition to the bushes a few dozen feet away. Sighing as he didnt hear the telltale sounds of pursuit he continued on. The pack was heavy but he was undeterred.
Normally traveling alone into the wilderness would be tantamount to suicide, the many ferocious predators of their homeworld converging on a lone individual, but he was unafraid. The ruins protected him, some sort of aura seemed to surround the area that deterred the predators from approaching. He had read of it on the inscriptions, it was called a protection grid in the ancient texts that adorned the walls of the ruin, but he had yet to truly parse what it meant.
Whatever it was he was grateful for it as it allowed him to work in peace without constantly having to watch his back against attack from the abominations the demons had left behind.
He walked along the narrow and hidden path he had forged through the dense undergrowth towards the ruins. He shook his furred head, Zeive was probably already there. The young man was always excited to help him make some new discovery or ancient find. Yes, there was nothing to worry about.
Almost as soon as he told himself that he had nothing to worry about he tripped and landed hard on the soft sandy soil. Crawling to his feet he heard the unmistakable sounds of clanking armour plates and was soon surrounded by church soldiers. Resplendent in their brown leather greatcoats and shining steel breastplates.
“Oh..” Was all he said, a plethora of steel spear points at his throat.
Another sound met his ears and he looked behind him. From the path he watched a magnificently maned man stroll towards him, crimson cloak over his brushed leather overcoat covered in fine gold buckles. It was Primo Haxix, his biggest detractor and the most powerful person in all of Broxix.
Primo Haxix strode to him and laughed, a thoroughly nasty sound, devoid of mirth or joy. “Wow, I knew it had to have been an ignorant son of a demon to have crossed into the forbidden zone. But you? You have got to be the dumbest intellectual I have ever met. Clap him in irons, bring him to the fortress of Brox.” The ostentatious humbub then strode away regally as if they cared no more for his welfare, and they likely didn't. Jrax heard the unmistakable sound of a frourn drawn carriage, likely to carry the Primo’s lazy ass back to the capital.
One of the soldiers produced a set of iron clamps which they applied to his wrists, the metal pinching his arm hair painfully and he chirped in discomfort.
“Follow me or I will make you follow.” The man said gruffly.
Jrax did as he was told. No reason to get a beating on top of his arrest.
The soldiers led him through the brush and out to the main roadway. The road was simple hard packed earth, but it served its purpose. Leading right to the edge of the forbidden zone.
He snorted as they led him back along the road towards Broxix. It was a large city, almost fifty thousand inhabitants lived and died within an afternoon’s hike of the ruins and yet they knew nothing of their own history. The Church taught that the demons had destroyed their ancestors and all they had built before Brox took them into the belly of Ixninth for their protection. But that wasn't entirely true. It wasn't the whole truth in any event, and in Jrax’s opinion that was tantamount to lying.
They marched for an hour before the leader of the troop called a halt near a small roadside inn that catered to pilgrims. He looked at Jrax and said gruffly “We are stooping for refreshment, would you like some water?”
Jrax nodded suspiciously and the man gestured to a few of the others to go into the building.
Jrax watched as the trio of so-called holy soldiers kicked the door open and rushed in, swords drawn. Screaming and the sound of crashing furniture could be heard and Jrax chirped angrily but was kept from remarking by a threatening glare from the troop leader.
After a few more minutes of this the sounds ceased and the three soldiers exited carrying food and wine as well as a small bladder of water.
The wine and dried meat morsels were shared about as the troop leader approached with the water and stopped. Staring at Jrax, the man proceeded to unstop the bladder and pour its contents into the dirt as his feet.
When the skin had been completely emptied the troop leader laughed curly and gestured at the small mud puddle. There you go blasphemer, drink up.
A chorus of nasty chuckles sounded from all about as Jrax just stood his ground.
The leader stopped laughing, his face turning from savage mirth to rage as he drew his sword and pointed it at Jrax’s throat.
“I said drink! Do it now or so help me Brox I’ll…” the large armoured man started to say but Jrax cut him off smugly.
“Or you will what? You can’t kill me or you would have already. No, Primo Haxix wants my punishment to be public.” Jrax spat. “He wouldn't let a little pissant like you take his triumph away from him, so no. I will not drink, nor will I eat unless it is something tasty and nutritious. I would rather starve than allow such ignorant fools to debase me.” he said with a smug chortle.
The now enraged troop leader drew his sword in a threatening manner and Jrax felt his knees shake slightly in fear. But he stood tall and firm, not allowing his terror to show on his face. He would show these zealous assholes what it meant to truly serve a higher purpose, even if it meant he would die anyways.
The leader lowered his weapon and sneered. “Let's see how smug you are when we take you to the chamber of repentance. We will see who gets the last laugh.” the man said angrily. “Okay, form up and move out you lazy sons of snurlg. We need to reach the Fortress of Broxix by mid afternoon.”
Jrax was shoved by one of the soldiers behind him who growled “Get moving scum.”
He shook his head sadly, the road was long and the sun was high. But he would walk with shoulders straight and head held high, for he knew his cause was just.
​
End of Part 1
==End of Transmission==

Sontag: Regarding the Pain of Others: Part 1 pages 6-17 (2003)
Fisher: Acid Communism: Introduction (2016)
Regarding the Pain of Others builds on ideas from her 1977 collection of essays On Photography. We'll read Melancholy Objects from that collection on Wednesday. On Photography's first essay, In Plato's Cave, gives a good overview of her thoughts on photography as a medium. Regarding the Pain of Others encourages the reader to allow photography to expand their moral circle to the subjects being documented.

WHO ARE THE "WE" at whom such shock-pictures are aimed? That "we" would include not just the sympathizers of a smallish nation or a stateless people fighting for its life, but—a far larger constituency—those only nominally concerned about some nasty war taking place in another country. The photographs are a means of making "real" (or "more real") matters that the privileged and the merely safe might prefer to ignore.

Many leftists fault Sontag for her CIA associations or potential covert enrollment. She is criticized for writing about war with the voice of a detached intellectual. Critics might say she uses war to gain fame, or she doesn't analyze these wars deeply, or that she gives them an air of inevitability which deflates protests.
Here's her Trip to Hanoi (1968) essay where she laments the US involvement and marvels at the beauty of Vietnam. While the Balkans War was raging, Sontag put on a production of Waiting for Gadot in Sarajevo and was lauded by the local government.
In March 2003, she went on a press circuit for Regarding the Pain of Others. NYT published an exceprt three days after the Iraq War began. Here's a long CSPAN interview 19 days before the war started. And a four-minute Bill Moyers interview 10 days after.
So what do you think? Are these criticisms fair? It seems obvious that she is overtly anti-war. But does it taint her message to tie the book launch to a one-sided war debate? Was the Sarajevo stunt helpful, callous, well-intentioned, self-centered? And what did you think of the book itself?
The Acid Communism introduction came out shortly before Fisher's suicide. Fisher used music to both define the problem of political and cultural languor, but also to imagine a renewal. Fisher cites Marcuse observing life has been drained out of the gangster, the beatnik, the vamp:

Just as Marcuse predicted, the availability of more consumer goods and devices in the global North has obscured the way in which those same goods have increasingly functioned to produce a scarcity of time. But perhaps even Marcuse could not have anticipated twenty-first-century capital’s capacity to generate overwork and to administer the time outside paid work. Maybe only a mordant futurologist like Philip K. Dick could have predicted the banal ubiquity of corporate communication today, its penetration into practically all areas of consciousness and everyday life.

How do we recreate the feeling of play and potential we see in songs like Sunny Afternoon and Psychadelic Shack?
For more on his thoughts on the state of music, see his talk, The Slow Cancellation Of The Future from 2014, where Fisher notes that, once music became a pastiche of older genres it lost its ability to demarcate periods of our lives. His two examples are Arctic Monkeys and Amy Winehouse, who sound like they could have come from decades earlier. Starting around 11:00

What is the sound of 2008? These years seem to go and seem to fade into one another now. if I ask you what a sound of 1975 was, even if you weren't alive, you've probably got a sense of what it is. But I think what's characteristic of the 21st century increasingly, especially since around 2003, is that disappearance of that sense of specificity of cultural time and the lack of distinguishing marks.

Ok... this actually feels like a weird thing for someone like me to do but here goes...
As the headline says, I'm in my 40's and seperated/going through a divorce after speinding over 20 years in married life. In that time, all of my friends (that weren't work colleagues) drifted away or were 'joint friends' with my now estranged wife.
I've moved into a flat in the city centre (within minutes walk of Wind Street) and have been keeping myself occupied with work up to now. I'm not ready for dating and all that jazz just yet, I just need to cut loose - have a few beers, find some hobbies to fill my spare time with, and whilst I can talk to randoms at bars, it's hard to be welcomed as a regular in these places compared to my younger single years, where I could just park my ass on a bar stool, chat to the staff and eventually build friends that way - these days, bar stools don't exist in most places and likewise, people are genrally out in there pre-determined crowds.
Now, I have tried the online dating circuit, don't get me wrong, just to keep my social skills in top notch, but I just want some plutonic, like minded male friends that I could eventually just socialise with on a random Thursday night or something... does this sound strange and a little desperate? Well, if the shoe fits, I guess it is...
I haven't the first clue where to begin. Right now, when I get a burst of a need to 'get out there' i simply wander around the city looking for a bar I haven't tried yet, order a beer and sit down and end people watching for an hour or so, and then leave feeling f'ing miserable.
So I guess what I'm asking is, does anyone have any advice for someone in my position? Or maybe any vacancies for another funny (humour, not completely wierd but often inappropriate) friend who's a complete lightweight, but a fairly decent wingman and avaiable at a moment notice? I'm serious. I need something to do as I'm losing my mind to lonliness here - destined to be nothing more than a future love interest...
(edited for typos)

Credit for the original story goes to u/spacepaladin15.
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---
Memory transcript subject: Tressa, Venlil civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: February 30th, 2177
Location: Lower sprawl of City 23, Venlil Prime
If they were spotted, there was little anyone could do to save them. Tressa’s pistol could maybe pick off one exterminator before the rest rushed them down, if his aim was solid and he didn’t fumble the shot entirely. With their current luck, the chances of his final stand making even the slightest difference was slim to none.
What they needed more than anything was stealth, tact. Slip in silently, act decisively, rush out with Beast before anyone could take notice. So when James managed to sprawl out on the sidewalk over a miniscule crack in the concrete and let out a cry of pain that drew the attention of all 3 or 4 other people on the street, Tressa knew they were truly already dead.
He decided not to voice this grim conviction as he helped his human compatriot to his feet. However, James’ slight limp when he got back to walking didn’t exactly lift his spirits. At a time like this, a sprained ankle was effectively a death sentence. If they got caught (when they got caught, at this rate), James wouldn’t be able to run. He alone was now condemned to an agonizing, slow death by immolation that the exterminators relished so dearly.
He’d stick by him, Tressa decided then and there, defending him pistol and claw until the last moment they fell together. As far as dying alongside each other went, burning was... well, it was far from romantic, but he’d take what he could get. Anything would be better than capture.
He’d seen what they did to the ones they didn’t just incinerate on the spot… The thought of James being tortured into one of their empty-eyed puppets, little more than a pet with the shock collar to match, filled his every step with furious determination. If he shot back, they’d be forced to try and kill both of them. It would be a mercy.
His bleak thoughts were silenced by a cloud of dust as Sasha carefully kicked in a dilapidated door. They’d snuck through another war-torn abandoned building, this one an apartment complex, to get a good look at the Tipped Quill before simply rushing Beast. From here, they could form something more resembling a plan of action.
Grabbing a pawful of coat fabric, Tressa wiped grime from the miraculously unbroken window to get a clearer view. He took a look through, and wiped harder. Then wiped his eyes with his other paw for good measure. The sight before him didn’t change.
​
A patrol vehicle sat outside the building, lights flashing and cabin empty. The cycling orange and yellow illuminated the rest of the scene, casting sharp shadows and harsh spotlights on the bare concrete. From his vantage point, Tressa could see the whole street lit in a garish blood-orange glow. It was empty. Not a single exterminator lay outside.
It had to be a trick of the light. Or a trick of the mind. Or perhaps they were already in the burned-out apartment, having spotted the group and lying in wait for the most dramatic moment to strike. He braced for impact. A rapid clicking noise behind him; he nearly drew his pistol before realizing the sound was familiar. It was nothing more than the sound of a keyboard.
While the rest of their group was pressed up against the cleared spot of the window to try and get a look outside, Trish was frantically typing something on her pad. Eyes widening enough to see their whites, she lashed her tail against the crumbling floor tiles to get their attention as she turned her pad around for them to see.
It was a video of the Tipped Quill. Live camera footage; Trish briefly wondered how she’d gotten access. Only briefly, though; the reality of what he was seeing chilled him to the core as soon as it registered, his brief spark of curiosity replaced with a dull, lifeless horror.
Stalking the bar were five figures clad in black combat armor, kinetic weaponry in hand. Exterminator emblems on their backs. One of them, a Venlil, walked up to a crumpled spiky fig…
Burai. One of them walked up to Burai, and just stared. Blue blood pooled beneath its boots, and it kneeled down to get a better look before getting up and walking away, leaving indigo footprints across the once-cleaned floor and flicking its tail in satisfaction. Tressa felt bile rise in his throat, and had to step away before he ruined the pad.
​
Sasha looked a second away from throwing up herself. Trish was seemingly too shocked to even react, simply staring at the pad blankly. James, however, had a gleam in his eyes. Not just tears (although those sparkled in the dim light of the pad as well) but intelligence. The beginnings of a plan were forming in his mind. He moved back to the window, and Tressa followed his motion as he began to mutter, apparently thinking aloud to himself.
"Those… those aren’t flame suits, are they?”
“It’s combat armor. If I tried to shoot them, I’d have trouble taking down a single one.”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m getting at— you think they keep those firebombs in their vehicle?
“I doubt they— Wait. You don’t mean… You think that could work?”
“It’d be fitting if nothing else. Yeah, if we can seal the front door… just need to get Beast out of there quickly before she gets seared as well.”
Sasha stepped over. “What are you two… no. That can’t be your plan. Do you really think they’ll just sit and wait? They can probably just shoot out the door, no matter what you try to block it with. And that’s assuming they haven’t already discovered the Den… although, even using the fire escape would buy us enough time to take Beast…”
“Will one of you tell me what you’re all muttering about over there?”
James wheeled around to face Trish, a cruel smile starting to break across his face. “We’re thinking the Tipped Quill could use a bit of a makeover. The standard exterminator fare, but this time…” His smile widened as he paused for dramatic effect, the spirit of Burai apparently possessing him for an instant. “...This time, they’ll get to enjoy the flames firsthand.”
“...You want to burn it down to kill them. That’s what you’re suggesting?”
Yeah, when she put it that bluntly, it did sound like a pretty dumb plan. They were exterminators; of course they’d know how to deal with fire. Maybe they’d be better off trying to use the patrol vehicle as a—
“I can keep their attention for a moment with the speaker system, when the time comes. Just give me the word.”
—
There weren’t any firebombs in the trunk. Or regular bombs, or even so much as a lighter. There was a storage case for the flamethrowers, but it was predictably empty. Tressa nearly slammed it closed in frustration before remembering their need for stealth.
“Nothing in this box either.” whispered James. “Do they just have their equipment on them at all times? Shouldn’t they at least keep spares somewhere?”
“If they did, we should have found them by now.” Tressa finished rummaging through a secret compartment under a cushion; they packed extra water, ammo, cuffs, even some medications. Everything except for a goddamned lighter. His tail lashed with such frustration that James understood instantly. He leaned out the door to talk to Trish, who was still keeping an eye on cams in case the exterminators found the Den or started approaching the front door.
“Trish, you think you can start some sort of electrical fire? There’s that panel on the wall right behind all the high-proof drinks; a strong spark’d be all you need.”
“Not a chance. The circuit breaker would stop me from doing anything remotely. And besides, those bottles are sealed. The alcohol won’t burn unless they’re broken. Maybe you could throw something at it? Something metal that could cause a short?”
“Throw something? And just… hope I don’t miss entirely, and hope it hits the right spot to cause a spark, and hope I can get out in time?”
“Then by all means, keep looking in there for a lighter. I don’t see any other…”
Trish halted mid-sentence. Her eyes went wide, darting between Tressa and the bar several times before she managed to make a noise. It was hard to call speech exactly, and while there were words mixed in, it held no meaning that the rest of them could discern. It took multiple failed attempts to string together a coherent sentence before she finally forced herself to stop and breathe. After several suspenseful moments spent gathering composure, she finally managed to find the words.
“Tressa, you brought your pistol, right? Do you think… would the panel spark enough if you shot it?”
—
Some part of his mind was vaguely aware of the herd at his back, nervously awaiting his move. Of the cold wind biting at his ears. Of the soft orange lighting, or the chatter he could just barely make out from inside the building, or the frigid door handle. But that part was very small. As far as his conscious mind was concerned, only two things existed. The gun in his hands, and the panel on the far wall. He could already imagine it, even though he was on the other side of the door. He lined up the shot in his head. His grips on the handles in both of his paws tightened.
“Make some noise for them… now!”
Trish clicked something on her pad, and flattened her ears before covering them with a free paw.
The speakers blared a harsh static tone, covering the sound of the door slipping open as Tressa peaked in just enough to take his shot. The exterminators were looking elsewhere, attention captivated by a flickering screen and sensed dulled by the cacophony around them. Despite their ample peripheral vision, none of them noticed as Tressa took aim.
The gun in his hands, and the panel on the far wall. Lower right side was where the cluster of capacitors he needed to hit would be, and that shot would strip right through a bottle of high-proof lureroot gin, the one Burai was always fond of. He forced his paw to stop shaking, twisted his head to get his eye aligned with the sights, and found his mark.
​
The trigger depressed with a satisfying click, followed instantly by the harsh kick and savage warcry as his shot rang out.
​
Tressa rushed to close the heavy wooden door, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the pandemonium he was leaving behind. A violent blue spark gave way to a grand jet of flame as the alcohol ignited. The exterminators wheeled around, apparently not noticing him in the slightest due to the sudden presence of a fire they hadn’t started. One of them started to back up, tail pressed against the ground in panic.
That was all Tressa was able to catch before he got the door closed. Even with his ears buzzing from the shot, he could hear the click of the lock automatically re-engaging. He dove backwards, letting himself fly head over heels for a pawful of meters before righting himself and taking aim at the doorframe with bated breath.
From the other side of the door, he heard a roar of flame. An agonized cry. He steeled himself, preparing for the door to fall away and the wrath of a pissed-off extermination crew to fall upon them like a thunderbolt. His aim was steady, head-level. He held his breath, ready to shoot anyone who made it out.
The sound of fire and the sounds of pain intermingled, one single furious, horrified roar of agony and hatred. There was a noise like a jet taking off. There was a shriek of pain in many voices. The door shook from the impact of a shockwave inside, then jittered violently from the impact of several bodies, fists and claws and boots all trying to break it down. A desperate wave of flesh and fur, slamming against the frame with less strength each time.
There was a noise like pleading, although it could have been the wind.
A few shots rang out from the inside of the bar, a couple piercing through the door. The bullet holes leaked with blood. One final, solitary howl of torture barely distinguished itself from the blaze for a few more seconds before choking out with a final gunshot.
Then, it was just the hushed crackling of flame.
---
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Unpuckered and all good vibes now.
Stats:
- Average student, passed most of my tests with A's or B's, but my programs tests were NOT good prep for the PANCE. No EORs.
- Pre-clinical PACKRAT: 149
- No post-clinical PACKRAT
- PAEA EOC: 1580
- Didn't do any NCCPA Practice Tests
- ROSH Projected: 525
- PANCE: 482 (results came after 4 business days)
​
Study Strategy:
- Did 10-20 ROSH questions daily for the first few months of Clinical Year with light studying. Maybe a few dozen ANKI deck cards I downloaded from a reddit threat. Rarely touched PPP.
- Sprinkled in podcasts on topics I was weak on throughout the year: Cram the PANCE, Physician Assistant Exam Review, Spoonful of Sugar.
- Started reading through PPP halfway through clinical year, and maintaining the ROSH questions.
- 2 months before PANCE date, I used an 8-week PANCE study guide to help me focus my efforts. Studied PPP on those blueprint topics for 3-4 hours a night, followed by 50 ROSH questions, with a 200 question ROSH practice test at the end of the week on just that week's material. Link: https://trello.com/b/3y2qJDbC/8-week-pance-study-plan
- Last week of the study guide suggests daily 225 question ROSH practice tests to build stamina, but I felt I had already developed that and didn't want to get burnt out, so I only did 6 x 120-180 question blocks. I completed the entire ROSH question bank twice over, with an average 80% correct.
- PROS: My endurance felt great, I didn't get tired at all during the PANCE. I felt confident because I was scoring 10-15% above the national average per category on the ROSH questions. Gave me enough time to feel like I covered all the topics and got into the material better.
- CONS: I got really really good at taking ROSH questions, which are different from the PANCE, and that artificially inflated my predicted PANCE score, and that's why I'm a good 47 points below expected. 8 weeks is also a very long time frame, and I feel like I forgot some things over that time period. For me, any shorter would've burned me out, however. I wish I had read through PPP throughout clinical year, that would've allowed me to go through the books twice.
​
Personal Opinion on Difficulty of Each Test
- The majority of what I searched up to ease my anxiety was how hard the tests were in comparison to each other, so I'm going to give my own ranking. I know this can vary a lot, and many of my friends felt that the PANCE was harder or the EOC was harder or the PACKRAT was harder, so I'll just give my best explanations for my ranking.
1) PANCE: This was hands down the hardest test of PA school for me. There were a lot of frustrating questions where two answers could be JUST AS CORRECT as each other. Others had just barely enough description to lead you to an answer. ROSH gave A LOT more pathognomonic s/sx and buzzwords for certain conditions, which can be positive because you know the buzzwords by heart now, but bad because PANCE doesn't give you those. I finished each section with usually < 5 minutes to review the 15+ questions I flagged. All this said, there are different forms of the PANCE. Some of my classmates who took it on the same day as me felt like it was very easy, while the majority felt as I did. For everyone who is going to take it for the first time, assume it'll be harder.
2) PACKRAT: This was only a hard test because it was right after didactic, when nothing was solidified in your head, and you felt like the questions were bullshit. It tracks somewhat well with the PANCE in question style, but beyond that it's in reality not that bad of a test.
3) ROSH: Easier the more you do. But still some random bullshit, ultra-specific questions that literally only the question writer knows. I've read many posts saying that ROSH is harder than the PANCE, but I disagree. On a scale of 1-10 for difficulty, ROSH questions range from 2 - 10/10, with a lot more lower end questions. PANCE sits at a 4 - 9/10, they are all more difficult because they don't give you as many clues and it wears on your confidence because you aren't getting those easy ones.
4) PAEA EOC: This was the easiest test of the bunch for me, as with just ROSH and PPP prep, I was able to answer a majority of the questions with ease, and always finished with 10+ minutes. The only difficult part of this test was how long it was.
​
Day of the PANCE:
- I felt incredibly calm and even keel, got good sleep the night before. This is usually a bad sign for me because I then underestimate the test, and get frustrated when it has the audacity to be difficult and ruin my calm. Thinking back, I might have been a bit burnt out on tests and questions. ALSO, I didn't know this, but while you have 45 minutes of resting time TOTAL, you only have 3 windows to use this time, so plan wisely. This caught me off guard.
​
Results:
- Got it at the crack of dawn. There is a section that goes over the topics that you get wrong, and if each topic is a singular question, then I got 49 questions wrong total. 251/300 is an 84%, which fit in line with the ROSH practice tests I was taking.
​
Conclusion:
- The thing that is going to help you pass this test is discipline in however you choose to prepare for it.
- You need to have a source of quick information about the tests topics, with PPP being the most common and arguably best. UTD, school notes, and other sources are great, but they can be excessive for the scope of the PANCE.
- You need to have a source of practice questions that you go through ad nauseam. Advice given to me was to choose 1-2 sources of information and stick to those only, because things vary between info sources and you don't want to confuse yourself.
- Having a solid progression of studying amount and intensity helped me ease into it and not get burnt out, so try to be disciplined and don't cram at the end. 20 questions a day is not that hard to do, and it'll help you stay in the groove of info.
- This test, as hard as it may be, is designed for 90%+ people to pass it. You will pass it if 1) you are diligent and put in good effort for studying (which you have been), 2) you don't let your anxiety get the better of you (I'm convinced the majority of those who don't pass first time are too anxious, rather than don't know enough), and 3) take care of yourself and have faith in the process.
Best of luck!

Please hear me out on this. It relates to the climate crisis, and I don't know who to contact or how to get things rolling. It has been proposed to use a sort of silicon bubble shield about the size of Brazil to lower the amount of heat the Earth gets. This was proposed by people at MIT.
In Case of Climate Emergency: Deploying Space Bubbles To Block ... https://scitechdaily.com/in-case-of-climate-emergency-deploying-space-bubbles-to-block-out-the-sun/
It would only take a few tons of molten silicon exposed to the vacuum of space to create this structure. That means that with one single mission, we could buy ourselves time to transition. Now I'm sure you're asking yourself how what I'm asking for will be new.
Imagine if the silicon bubbles were coated with graphene based integrated circuits.
Screen-Printing of a Highly Conductive Graphene Ink for Flexible Printed ... https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/acsami.9b04589
You might functionalized the surface of the spherical circuits using things like LED lasers as part of the circuits. This could be used to manipulate the spheres' position to itself and other bodies.
The graphene could also be functionalized to generate electricity from heat in the bubble system. It could manipulate the EM field both inside and slightly outside of itself. https://scitechdaily.com/physicists-harness-the-atomic-motion-of-graphene-to-generate-clean-limitless-powe
I picture this sort of bubble shield also being used to shield things like the ISS from space junk. It could be used on the Moon and Mars as well to protect against micrometers. You could also make massive spacecraft that use bubbles as structural components.
If anyone can clue me in to how I submit the suggestion for a mission, I would really appreciate it. Each day, this isn't dealt with more people are dying. This could change everything.

Hi everyone,
I'm trying to build an avalonia application with a datagrid that is automatically updated when the collection is changed behind.
My issue is that, the datagrid is indeed updated at the first insert but not after that.
I also inserted a textblock at the top of the table to see exactly that the collection is indeed update that apperantly it is updated....
Here is the axaml file:

Followed by the ModelView in which i have:

 private AvaloniaList _doctors; public AvaloniaList Doctors { get => _doctors; set { this.RaiseAndSetIfChanged(ref _doctors, value); } } 

Then, everytime a window is closing, this is called:

 public void Refresh() { _logger.LogInformation("Refreshing the view"); var doctorsFromDb = _doctorService.GetDoctors().Result; foreach (var doctor in doctorsFromDb) { if (!_doctors.Any(x => x.UniqueIdentifier.Equals(doctor.UniqueIdentifier))) { _logger.LogInformation("Adding a doctor to the avalonia list"); _doctors.Add(doctor); } } Doctors = null; Doctors = new AvaloniaList(doctorsFromDb); } 

Does anyone has a clue of why the datagrid is not updating...? I tried updating only one entry from Doctors, all entries, making it null and repopulate...kind of eveything I could from my side....
Just as a sidenote, the datagrid is updating everytime the first insert in hapening (if the db table is empty).
If i refresh the view by changing the tab, all the rows are in the datagrid as expected.
Thank you!

This post is about a couple of older and elderly women who vanished without a trace. I wanted to include women who disappeared without much of an explanation. When elderly people go missing, their disappearances can often be chalked up to a dementia-related event. I believe many elderly people who vanished with their cars may be in the bottom of lakes and rivers. Those who lived near wilderness may have gotten lost and died of exposure. Those who were picked up or hitchhiked could've been brought to a hospital where they were unable to communicate their true identity. The women I included went missing under more suspicious circumstances.
Mayme Hart Johnson - Disappeared June 12th, 2000 from Nashville, Tennessee.
Mayme is the first on the list and the reason I decided to do this post. On June 12th, 2000, Mayme Hart Johnson, a local historian, researcher, and teacher went missing from Nashville, Tennessee. Mayme, who was 85, lived in the 100 block of Bosley Springs Road in West Nashville with her son, Sam, in his apartment. At 6:30 am that morning, her son woke to find his mother gone. While he reported that he wasn't initially concerned because Mayme occasionally left the apartment around that time, he became alarmed when she didn't return by lunchtime. Where Mayme would go/what she would do at that time is not known. Richland Creek is close by to the apartments, but from what I've seen, it's narrow and a body would probably soon be found if it was in there, despite it being 28 miles long. Of course, there is always a chance she made it into a larger body of water that concealed her. A maintenance man from the Johnson's building told authorities that he had seen Mayme at 6:30 am the day she went missing. This was around the time Sam woke up. Whether this employee saw her outside the building, inside the building, near or on her apartment floor, or down the street is not mentioned. At the time of her disappearance Mayme was 5'5, 120 pounds, with brown eyes and gray hair, and last seen wearing pink pants and a pink blouse. Whether these were pajamas or not (possibly indicating a dementia-like episode, where she got up out of the house and left without telling her son or getting dressed) is, like many things in this case, unknown. Mayme, as I mentioned, was a historian and if you google her name you will find a few sites that show her body of work. In 1986, she published "A Treasury of Tennessee Churches". A search for Mayme was conducted in the Nashville area and extended to Huntingdon, TN, where her husband's grave was, and where she had been visiting the weekend before she vanished. There was also an aerial search of Eastern Maury County that took place in July 2000 after law enforcement came up with a theory that she could be a target of the I-65 rapist. I'm not sure where police got this idea from. The I-65/Days Inn Killer, now identified as Harry Edward Greenwell, murdered three hotel clerks (ages 21, 24, 34) in the late 1980s. He also sexually assaulted a 21 year old hotel clerk in 1990. While LE does believe he's connected to more violent crimes, I'm not sure how they link Mayme to him--if you know, please add your knowledge in the comments. After the aerial search, nothing was found linking anything to Mayme. In 2008 she was declared deceased.
-
Helen Joyce Rawley - disappeared June 4th, 2003 from College Park, Maryland
Helen Joyce Rawley lived in a bungalow on the 4600 block of Knox Road in College Park, Maryland with her son. 75 year old Helen went by her middle name "Joyce" so that is how I'll refer to her. Seventy-five year old Joyce and her son, Tom, had lived together since the death of Joyce's husband of 48 years, Nelson, in 2001. Between 6:45 and 7:00 am on June 4th, 2003, Joyce was last seen by her tenant, a man who had rented a room at the Rawley home for the last eight years. Joyce was seen by him on her porch that morning as he returned home from work. Beginning the day after her husband died in February 2001, Joyce suffered two strokes four days apart. Because of the strokes, she was unable to talk and considered disabled because of her inability to communicate. In 2002, Joyce underwent chemotherapy and radiation for rectal cancer. She was on medication that made her tired and weak. She didn't go out anywhere by herself except to get the mail. Her mind remained "sound", according to her son. The day she went missing, her son returned home from his foreman job at 3:30 pm, and found the house empty with the lights off. Joyce's purse and wallet remained left behind in her bedroom, everything was in place, and there were no signs of a robbery. Police tracked Joyce's scent out the front door which she never used, and to the corner of the block. However, she went missing on a "rain-soaked" and "dreary" day and it's possible the bad weather could've washed away any more of her scent outside. Since the death of her husband who died unexpectedly in his sleep, and her two other sons who died together in a 1982 boating accident, Joyce's immediate family consisted of her remaining child Tom, who was unmarried and childless at the time of his mother's disappearance. If she had other family out of the area is unknown. She does have a beach house in Annapolis, Maryland, but had not visited there after she went missing. She was 75 when she disappeared, standing between 5'4-5'5 and 110 pounds. Due to her cancer, she wore a colostomy bag and was on several medications that she can't go long without. Fliers with Joyce's information went out, woods were searched, local bus drivers were notified and questioned if they had seen her, and hospitals had been checked. A helicopter flew over the city at night with a heat-detecting device. No sight of her was ever found. She had brown eyes and white hair and was last seen in a sweatshirt and slacks. She enjoys gardening, crossword puzzles, and reading. Police don't suspect foul play and Tom isn't considered a suspect (neither is the tenant who was the last to see her), but they aren't sure what could've happened.
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Maebell Dawson - disappeared January 3rd, 1998 from Jefferson Township, Ohio
68 year old Maebell Dawson had lived in a one bedroom apartment on the 2nd floor of the Martin Luther Manor Living Center on Liscum Drive for about a year when she went missing. Maebell was divorced, had two daughters, and had retired from a hospital housekeeping job two years prior. Maebell was close to her family, and when calls to reach her went unanswered for two days, by January 5th, her residence was checked. Nothing in the second-story apartment was missing or out of place. Her winter coat was draped over a chair, her wallet, credit cards, cash, and a check for rent dated 1/8/98 were all found in her purse on the table. Her bank account was never accessed again. There were no signs of forced entry, a struggle or robbery inside the apartment. LE does not believe Maebell was attacked from her apartment or lured from the premises, but they do believe foul play was involved. According to CharleyProject, suicide "has not been ruled out but has been deemed unlikely". In 1998, Maebell was between 5'4 - 5'6 and 180 pounds. She had brown eyes and gray hair, wore glasses, and was last seen in a tan jogging suit. She was last seen entering her apartment at 9:30 pm on January 3rd. Five and a half years after her disappearance, Maebell was declared legally dead.
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Norma Mae Maynard - disappeared February 3rd, 1979 from Boone, Iowa.
Norma Mae Maynard went missing in early February of 1979, just two weeks after the unexpected death of her husband, Carl, on January 19th. Norma and Carl had been married for three decades and Norma was deeply grieving the loss. Norma lived with her 30 year old son, and he was the last to see his mother. He stated that shortly before noon on February 2nd, he found a note from his 61 year old mother that stated she was on her way to Los Angeles, not to look for her, and that she'd get in touch again someday. The validity of this note (if seen by LE, if handwritten analysis was performed, etc) is not known. Norma's purse and a few items of clothing were missing, but her checkbook and jewelry were left behind. There was no sign of a break-in at the house. Her husband's pension which she lived off of and her bank account with savings was not touched. Norma was a shy woman who spent most of her time at home and had a regular routine. She didn't drive and her brothers stated that she had never been more than a few miles from her hometown. Her husband's funeral bill was paid for by a check dated four days after she vanished and signed by "Mrs. Carl Maynard". According to Charley Project, "The signature appeared to match Maynard's handwriting, and her son said she had signed a blank check and left it with him to fill in and pay the bill". The validity of this is not known either. A sighting of a woman matching Norma's description was seen by a local Greyhound bus station employee. The woman was boarding a bus bound for Los Angeles. Police are not sure of the accuracy of this sighting and consider it "shaky". Norma didn't drive but she didn't normally travel by bus, and why she allegedly went to Los Angeles is unknown: she had no friends or family there. Norma's son was not considered a suspect in her case, though some members of her family believe he was involved in her disappearance. He has maintained his innocence and has since moved out of state. Norma was 5'3 tall and weight 175 pounds, with blue eyes and gray hair. If she was alive today, she'd be 105. I believe someone close to her knows what happened and made up the story about her leaving for California. My second theory would be suicide, and she made up the California story so her family wouldn't worry.
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Yu Chin Goodson - disappeared March 25th, 2005 from Russellville, Franklin County, Alabama.
Yu Chin Goodson is one of the youngest on my list, and at 57, I wouldn't classify her as elderly, but she is an older woman with a lot of mental and physical issues, who went missing under mysterious circumstances like these other women. Yu Chin is an Asian woman suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, diabetes, and a heart problem which required daily medication. In 2005, she was living in group home for patients with mental disabilities in Russellville, Alabama. On March 25th, 2005, a witness claimed to see Yu Chin enter a small, older grey or silver car with a loud muffler. The car was headed toward the Decatur, Alabama area, which is where her son lives. Staff at the group home were informed that Yu Chin was gone, and within 15 minutes of her disappearance, the police were notified and a search for Yu Chin began. No trace of her was ever found. Her son, who lives in the Decatur area, was never contacted by his mother. There has been no mention of foul play, and authorities believe she could currently be homeless and living in shelters. At the time of this write up, she has been missing for almost twenty years and would be around 75 if still alive.
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Barbara B. Blount - disappeared May 2nd, 2008 from Holden, Louisiana
Barbara B. Blount was a 58 year old widow who lived on the same road as her children, kept in regular contact with her family and friends, and was active in her local church. It came as a surprise one morning when her nephew came over to visit her residence in rural Livingston Parish, Louisiana, and Barbara was nowhere to be found. A neighbor had just spoken to her over the phone, and Barbara had said she was cleaning out her kitchen cabinets. By the time her nephew had arrived for a visit, the front door was wide open, Barbara's phone was lying on the floor with the battery pulled out, her car was gone, and Barbara was missing. Besides for the unusual circumstances in the home, police didn't find any proof of forced entry. A few hours later in the late afternoon, the silver four door 2006 Toyota Camry Barbara owned was found a quarter of a mile from her home. It was found 25-30 yards off the main road and out of sight, hidden by trees. No trace of Barbara was discovered, baffling friends and family who described Barbara as a cautious individual who carried a gun when she went outside to milk the cows and didn't open the door to strangers. Waterways and woods were searched in attempt to find Barbara, but nothing was ever found.
​
edit: ooof messed up the title.

First
Capes and Conundrums
There was some excitement around Skathac, some which the more, sensible, party-killer kind of girls were speaking up against.
The first madwoman had shown up. Oh sure, she hadn’t done very well. She’d basically run into the person that played Deathstroke and that was considered just asking for it. But it was happening! The city was changing and it was becoming more like the comics!
Only one in every ten girls thought this was a problem. The statement from The Undaunted was that they would need volunteers to stress tests their tests so that they can properly categorize the events they would be running in the city.
There were just shy of a million women signing up and most of the men on The Undaunted had at least a chuckle about the fact that the first thing stress tested was the attendance sheet and schedule.
“Are you honest to god CHEATING on an open book test!?” Shortly followed by the suspension of disbelief and patience of the examiners.
There are some complications, especially as some women have all the grace of a drunken rhinoceros and are in firm, firm denial about their lack of capacity. Needless to say, tests one and two cut off a surprisingly large amount of the crowd. Leaving the third test less congested than feared but far more so than they hoped.
They were quick to rush the girls from one test to the next so that there wouldn’t be any sharing of information about the actual solutions. It did help, and many girls were caught up in the thrill of things. However... there were still issues.
“What do you mean I can’t just pry it out of the pipe!?”
“You have been told you don’t have to and that doing so is a failure of the testing parameters! Get out! You signed a contract not to damage things and you have anyways! Skedaddle!”
In order to speed up test four the alert whoever gets caught as soon as they do as many, many women find that stealth just isn’t something they’re good at. It’s not that they can’t sneak or hide, it’s that most of them are so impatient that a hyper toddler would tell them to calm the hell down.
A thousand women make it to where Five different men playing Deathstroke are waiting. Thankfully they’re spaced out time wise so each of them is properly tested. There is a roughly half and half pass and fail rate.
The tests take seventy two hours to finally finish up and everyone in the base takes a shift proctoring a test, monitoring them on the security or playing the part of a supervillain.
When the triple shifting is done and over with there’s a half day to recuperate beyond standard break times before an announcement is held. They need a few more schedules to work out but everything is ready. Start practising your evil laughs, things are about to shift into high gear.
There’s a cheer that echoes through the entire blimp/base.
•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•
The scene is as gruesome as it sudden. A murdered woman deliberately posed in a lifelike manner, the blood seeping from her wounds and staining the area around her. It’s a level three scene and there is a limit of ten women in the area.
Which means that there’s a lineup until the announcement of more scenes opening up draw the crowds away.
Leaving only a small crowd of women to comb over the area and try and piece things together.
Several blocks away a level one test has a robbery with the entire building half frozen in an iceblock and a few streets away is one on fire.
Those are the low level ‘mysteries’ with battles that are higher level. No villain fight is below third level and just taking on a ‘thug’ is a second level event.
Which means that the real show is when the first fully qualified Sonir swoops into the area and dodges a beam of cryogenic energy. The armoured man physically resembles the Batman and Robin version of Mister Freeze, but the cold stare is straight out of the animated series.
“Batman.” He intones in a cold dead tone. “You will not stop me.”
Ice floods the area as thrilled contestants take cover. There’s more to do in order to take down Freeze.
•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•
“You forgot to use the one liners.” Santiago teases the slightly smaller man.
“I’m not doing the Schwarzenegger routine.” The other soldier says after their first day of full proper events.
“Oh come on! Chill out! You need to stay cool and not just let the excitement freeze over! This is as much entertainment as actual combat.” Robin teases.
“Don’t you have a child to abuse? Fuck off.” The man snaps back and Robin raises an eyebrow.
“That’s going a little hard. What’s got you so upset?” Robin asks.
“I just... I’m just still coming to terms with this. I understand this is a powerful recruitment and training tool, I understand that this is amazing for PR and allows all kinds of weapon testing. I know for a fact that I’m basically... I mean.” The man says before taking a deep breath. “I understand that this is practical, but I’m getting serious cognitive dissonance from the absurdity of our actions and the already proven value of the outcomes.
“That will pass, just remind yourself how many different ways you’re superior to the fragile little thing called a villain and much of the stress will fade away. I am no Bane, I am better than Bane. I am stronger and smarter. More importantly my mind is intact in the places where Bane’s is not.”
“Maybe, but... Mister Freeze is a little different. He’s less a villain and more desperate. He...”
“If he were in our reality and not printed in a comic book he would have already cured his wife and perhaps himself. Even if not done by his own hand a healing coma each would have seen both fit and free and the villainy finished. The more you look at most villains, even the more sympathetic ones, they quickly become less so. How many has Mister Freeze killed to try and save one person? How many happy lives has he utterly destroyed because there is no more in his own. Do not feel for the villain, that is the greatest trap they have over you.” Robin says. “Outside of a comic Deathstroke would have had a bounty on his head so huge that no one would deal with him honestly. Joker would be shoot on sight, even if Black Mask or The Penguin or Zsasz got out due to technicalities or bribery they would have been wiped out in random violence or poison. Comics are not reality.”
“No, reality is even more absurd in it’s own ways.” The man says and Santiago nods.
“See? You’re getting it.”
“Hey guys, oh hey Freeze! Didn’t get your actual name.” Pavel says as she shows up with a tray heaped high with food.
“I thought you had another hour of being Deadshot.” Santiago notes.
“I did, but then the girls damaged the lead up scenes and that bit was cancelled. There’s talk about monetary penalties on top of things being cancelled, but that’s not my department. I just shoot things.” Pavel says before chuckling. “Although from what I overheard before they realized the mic was still on, YOU have a lot more work to do Robin buddy.”
“Oh, okay.”
“That’s it?”
“The work can be boring, but it’s a good productive boring. So long as they let me listen to music, which they do, then it’s a very solid shift.” Robin says and Pavel clucks his tongue in disappointment.
“Well boo! I was hoping for more! Where’s the rage? Where’s the rant? Where’s the fun?”
“I’m in legal, it’s filed away.” Robin jokes and Pavel huffs a bit in amusement. “By the way, his name is Darius Sarris.”
“I see. Good to meet you.” Pavel says and gets a nod from Darius. “So I heard a little bit from the chow line. You’re not liking this?”
“I’m struggling with it. For all that this is goofy as hell I’m struggling to have fun with it.” Darius says before he runs a hand through his short blond hair. “It’s just... I understand it’s use but... It’s still sinking in.”
“I think I get it. Granted I haven’t had any problems with it.” Pavel says. “Chin up, things are only awkward the first few times. After that it gets much easier.”
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Shadowflight grinned to herself as she crawled along the ceiling. She was wondering who exactly would be her opponent after this. The little announcement that retesting can only be done after you complete at least one event at your highest level had been encouraging. And now here she was. Collecting clues once more.
She was fairly sure. She was almost entirely sure, but she needed to scan the last few rooms in order to make completely sure.
There was nothing to be found. Which means it had to be a Black Mask Case. She slips through the building. The image of a few elite bots finally rolling in catching her eye. She slipped out and takes off between guard patrols. She reaches the sideroom where she inputs the aaddress. It’s accepted and she steps through the emerging door.
She’s suddenly above a high rise apartment, stepping out onto the roof and directly across the street in a penthouse apartment is the villain in the skull like mask. A villain who abruptly turns to face her. There’s the crunch of gravel behind her and she rolls to the side.
A staff slams into where she was a heartbeat ago.
“Hello batman.” The mocking and derisive tone coming out of Deathstroke’s mask is almost chilling.
“Hello Robin.” She says cheerfully.
“Stay in character.” He chides her before rushing with the staff. She slams down a homemade smokebomb she brought into the test and dodges the attack. He swings widely to try and keep her back before launching upwards, but she was counting on that.
She hits his side and due to the Axiom she pulled in they both go rolling despite the sheer weight difference between them. He holds her away with the staff and a quick fight over it begins. One she’s not likely to win so she simply lets him have it and tries to use that moment of unbalance to land a good shot in.
That’s when things start to fall apart as he is NOT unbalanced and the staff slams into her forehead and she’s sent staggering backwards. “Oh bloody hell. You’re not letting up are you?”
“Why would I detective?” ‘Deathstroke asks and then swings. Shadowflight then kicks off a pummelling force of wind hard enough to send him skidding backwards with a single sweep of her wings. “Surprising!”
She launches herself at him and avoids the jab withe the staff and uses it as a platform to try and get an angle to attack on him. But he simply lets it go and gets one over on her as he grabs her by the foot instead of the other way around and slams her into the roof. “Not enough!”
He then throws her towards the entrance way to slam her against the wall and be done with her. She stops herself gently enough to not be dazed by the slam and shifts to the side fast enough for Deathstroke’s knee to the chest to miss hard enough that he’s left hanging in the air for a moment.
Her fist meets his mask followed by the other before she grabs him by the helmet and tries to pull him by it. It comes loose but she was ready for that and turns it around to try and hammer him in the head with it.
He dodges that as well and backs away. “Aggressive.”
“... Robin, are you honestly wearing an eyepatch to stay in character?”
“Yes, and you should stay in character too.” Robin says before drawing the sword on his back. “Now I will end this quick!”
His opening thrust is barely caught on the helmet and it starts to go through the hardened metal. She twists it to try and break his grip, but his retaliation is a boot to the back of the knee that folds her up and sends her to the ground. Where she slams a smokebomb down and fades away.
“Losing your nerve batman?” ‘Deathstroke’ asks before there’s a rush behind him and he takes a swing with his sword that causes his helmet to bounce away as it’s flung off. There are other rushes and he swings at each one in the same flawless movement... then.
‘click’
His left wrist is clasped into a cuff and he dodges away to try and escape before a blast of wind catches him in midair and dispels the smokebomb to reveal Shadowflight. Then she throws out another directly where tumbles into and even as he rises up she’s on him, wrestling with all four limbs and then lets out an ear piercing scream that causes him to flinch.
‘click’
“I win.” Shadowflight says as Robin feels the cuffs around both his wrists and he chuckles.
“Distraction on distraction after distraction. Well done. You’ve passed.” He congratulates her even as the room fades, but the smokebombs and smokebomb residue do not. “This chamber will need to be cleaned. But well done. Very well done.”
“Thank you.”
“Now go jump on El Rhino to celebrate or something, I have to prepare for the next one in.”
​
First Last Next

I've learned C++ programming language in my school. I used Code::Blocks. I wrote programs to solve problems like finding prime numbers, palindromes, solving mathematical equations, operations on strings, etc.
I don't know how things works. It's like I was born inside a car and I've learned to drive it from the inside. I know turning the steering wheel turns the car but I don't know by what mechanism the car turns itself. I don't know how to make softwares. I can't understand what are libraries, APIs, Frameworks, toolkits, SDKs, Runtime etc. Even if I look up their definitions or Wikipedia pages, I can't get any clue as to what they are.
If I Google anything, like "learn software development for windows", I get bombarded with jargons I know nothing about. What are UWP, MFC, WPF? I don't know what I'm lacking. It's not possible to Google every single thing I don't understand. I can't understand the documentations either.
I thought tracing the evolution of computers and programming will tell me how we got where we are now, slowly building the concepts from logic gates and binary logic to processors, bootloaders, early command line operating systems, etc but there is so much resource and knowlege that it seems one life is not enough to understand everything. Moreover, people told me not to 'reinvent the wheel'. They said that you don't need to learn all that. Learn getting comfortable not knowing how stuff work.
I don't know what to do. Is there any resource which does not teach me Java, c++, GUI, Operating system, etc but give an overall bird eye's view of how different thing fit together, like how the entire computer works? Where does my compiled binary fit in the whole scheme of things? How software development started? How different tools for software development were made? If I'm running a compiled C++ code, who is it 'talking' to? does it ask the operating system to do the tasks for it, or it does it directly using the processor. If it does it directly, then why do we need different binaries for different operating systems running on the same hardware?

I already loved BOTW despite making a long whishlist out of it, because what it focused on made it worth coming back for years. I have completed most of TOTK and have let thoughts settle. I think it improves many things over BOTW and adds incredible stuff. Still here I'll focus on what bugged me, because having waited for so long, and having so much to it also means frustrations here and there and a lot of potential for whatever comes next. Hopefully this is constructive.

World & Scope

I expected the sky to be a proper "sky world" but while I love the aesthetic and ambiance, it's mostly small repetitive sky segments. I'm not addressing sky temples here, only the general overworld for casual exploration and discovery. The big structures that gave Wind Waker vibes from afar fall into a few categories of quick challenges, without many unique finds on them. The rest are copy-pasted platforms with slight variations for a shrine, a map, a few resources, a construct or gleeok. I really hoped in the beginning that the Great Sky Island wouldn't be the only ambitious one, and it was by far.
I expected underground to be secondary, maybe with some underwater. We got the "mirror" depths and many caves, which are impressive but daunting and not really varied. To be clear, they're definitely part of my addiction to the game, so they definitely have value. Some amazing spots and intense encounters, exploration in the dark was surprising and awesome. But I'd take a smaller extra map for a few more big unique moments.
Red herrings in marketing can be double-edged. Especially after going through Skyward Sword recently, reminding of its shortcomings for the sky intended as a focus, only to see the most fully realized open world version do little more with most of its real estate. I do enjoy what's there but hype can be a b*tch.
Quick word on underwater, yes we were a lot to expect or wish for it, personally what they decided to focus on is just as interesting, in parts more, it doesn't have to be the obvious choice and it can't be everything. I did find it suspicious (though funny) that one NPC got my hopes up when mentioning a flooded well which was just about waiting for the rain to stop, or when Bolson had underwater exploration as a suggestion for new activities which is of course denied. It could be a big deal but they had great stuff instead so no biggie.

Main challenges

I expected traditional dungeons adapted to the open world, we got... an interesting version of that. The environments and ambiance are unique, the lead-up segments were great but puzzles were oddly trivial with terminals.
To me the Wind Temple is the best of the four big ones. Fairly simple but really fun parkour, epic and ominous ambiance (some of the best music), a mind-blowing moment that perfectly combines the build up, the trampoline mechanic to go above the eye of the storm, and the heavily marketed skydiving mechanic to go through a stunning introduction. The terminal puzzles remain on the weaker side when thinking about "big dungeons" but in this game I liked their integration best. Colgera is great and so is the music once again. The myth about flying boats is properly brought up and ends up happening before our eyes, the most compelling one IMO. Unfortunately that was also the temple teased the most by Nintendo and suggested to be done first.
By contrast the three others were less impressive * For the Fire Temple, we're told about this mysterious ancient city Gorondia, we go up Death Mountain, fight a cool godzilla miniboss, dive through one of the most epic world building reveals. Then it's all about mine carts, like many people I got confused about some "puzzle" parts and rushed with climbing and ascend. The boss was ok but a pretty underwhelming payoff. * For the Water Temple, I don't have anything against it and low gravity is fun. Interesting lead-up and architecture, but the terminals and boss felt underwhelming. * For the Lightning Temple nothing negative either, the boss introduction and fight were more remarkable, the setting was great, but I can't say I remember going through puzzle rooms.
The Spirit Temple is a highlight by how it integrates a cool quest that spans multiple locations, a multi-part puzzle, a unique item / ability / boss / reward and lore.
The Great Deku Tree had a nice integration with the Depths, really cool to realize how deep his roots are. But it's mostly some environmental lore, a reused Phantom Ganon fight and a short memory, then it's Korok Forest as usual. I could see a Forest Temple if other temples had been more consistently fleshed out.

Secondary challenges

As mentioned before, lots of sky islands have the same minimalist repetitive nature. There are a few big vertical ones that still feel limited: short skydiving challenges. Looking at the art and trailers I had come to expect maybe a couple villages, at least occasional unique NPCs, or more unique finds. It gives the impression of bloated structures for the sake of recognizable landmarks, without much to give in the end. There's that one with an obscurity puzzle, despite the same aesthetic as anywhere else it at least stands out. Maybe I'm underplaying the focus on the "journey more than the destination" this time around, while I was all about that in BOTW, maybe I figured out too quickly how to optimize travel and put too much expectation on what I'd find there. But they're really sparse, unlike the surface and depths which could hide something at any corner, so I'm not sure I was in the wrong mindset.
Zonai mazes are pretty fun but yet another type of major landmark with underwhelming payoff. I liked how they address the fact that most BOTW players already completed the surface with in-game explorers leaving a trail. Getting to the sky portion is nice but nothing unique. Once there it's fun to fly around but I didn't feel challenged to reach glowing points on the map. There's one instance where the map isn't enough with walls blocking on all sides, so you have to dive and go back up on the other side. But it doesn't seem like one of those open-ended challenges where you make it as tough as you want. Unless you want to stay blind and bump against every single wall of the maze, you're meant to use the map which makes it trivial. It felt like they had settled to make mazes as landmarks, and added the standard terminal fetch quests as an afterthought. Then the idea of diving back down into the depths is neat, but here again I had mixed feelings with the outcome. It happens three times which seems like a manageable amount for a conclusion specific to these places, so coming across yet another flux construct and BOTW DLC item isn't too exciting.
The fact that they repurpose DLC content for "ancient lore" discovery isn't a big deal and can even be great if well integrated. But a lot of these felt underwhelming, with random placement which emphasizes "repurposed DLC" more than proper "ancient lore", and the fact that many of us have been using these for years now. So instead of feeling like long-lost meaningful items, it feels like accessing parts of your previous save file bit by bit. I don't know what could be in their place, I'm just saying how it felt.

Wildlife

I noticed almost nothing new with animals which were such a novelty for immersion in BOTW. Except the harness and perks at stables, but horses are as stiff as ever and even less valuable now. I doesn't take away what was already in BOTW, but the sky, undergrounds, verticality and vehicles drastically diminish the presence of animals.
I didn't like how some NPCs tease the mysterious creature Zelda was seen with, only to be what dondons turned out to be, some version of what we saw her ride in the first trailer. Nothing special besides feeding them rocks. I can appreciate that the dondons quest is a play on rumors which is a quite nice trope in this game, but there's also a few unique mounts that also start as gossip and turn out to be real, so I did let myself hope it would be more than a cute stationary animal.
Also I understand why we didn't get loftwings but that goes with wanting a grander sky world.

Lore

The lore and presentation are more epic, but we don't really learn anything valuable that isn't reusing previous tropes. I won't bother speculating on the actual meaning of the "kingdom's foundation" or "ancient times" relative to the entire series, it's not the most important and the creators may not have bothered themselves.
This was Ganondorf's best time to shine, writers touch on his origin yet mostly stick to callbacks; vaguely bring up Gerudo males born every 100 years though we don't know more about what that means or how it works; have him express motive and cunningly pledge fealty, without more insight into his past as an individual; show him as a fierce leader and user of dark magic even without god-like powers, without expanding on how he got there, how much of it is actually innate, how it relates to the ancient curse... All cool stuff, I get that a story can remain basic to serve the game, but it could be more thoughtful to engage players in a different way. Some people still prefer WW Ganondorf for this reason, we had a slightly more intimate feeling when he opened up about his past, making his madness and downfall more impactful.
The Zonai are referenced everywhere to the point where I understand why some people feel like it retcons stuff. I think you can always add more layers so I don't mind. But I wish they'd tell us more explicitly what it's meant to be. While I enjoy environmental storytelling and letting players figure it out, it can also come across as "this is the ancient aesthetic, mysterious stuff happened, the Zonai did it". It raises the stakes while none of our BOTW speculations about Zonai ruins have been addressed, to my knowledge. I'm expecting DLC to use more of that trope but hopefully they tie in more unique lore than they did with the Sheikah in BOTW DLC, which was essentially more challenges without telling us anything major. And if they resort to an official artbook to say more that's fine, but I wish they went all the way in the game itself. NPCs, logs and stone tablets can go a long way.

Story delivery

Memories are more captivating than in BOTW but even if non-linearity is intended, it can be counter-productive. I carefully got to tears in order but stumbled upon Mineru's quest in the middle, without a clue that there was an intended way to clear the skies only after the fake Zelda confrontation. Nothing Mineru tells us was completely unfathomable but still, the tension should work better in order. * On one side there are memories. If they tell a linear story, they could play memories in order regardless of which tear you get. Though I'm fine figuring out by myself if they provide an obvious suggestion, they might as well prevent people from being confused just for the sake of calling it "open gameplay". * On the other side for things in the present it's a dilemma, I wish I was told the thunder storm island had late-story reveals, or that it kept locked until enough progression. But going through it blind, following to a temple, solving the puzzle without a clue of where I was going was one of the best moments of the game. The hostile environment didn't feel like a warning, because early on we're taught to find our way through obstacles and obscurity.
Zelda goes through crazy stuff, I liked seeing her experience unfold in the past but with suspense. I already defended the BOTW memories as a nice development of her character, this is taking her faith in Link further while being a story device that feels natural enough. Her transformation is a great twist, though I got very suspicious of that when casually dropping on the Light Dragon, before deciding I wasn't ready for spoilers. This only adds to my point about the linearity compromise. But in the end she's back to normal and it seems she wasn't conscious of the ages passing by. This lack of lasting consequences kinda defeats the purpose, but I should appreciate a simple happy ending that also works. It also convinces me that they're done with this BOTW/TOTK iteration beyond DLC.
When the construct on the sky Temple of Time proposes to share the backstory of the floating island, I postponed until I felt I could be spoiled major stuff. I liked revisiting the island with the bonfires challenge, but it also cemented my concern that the sky overall was under-utilized. As I completed the challenge looking forwards to some exciting lore, the construct simply told me through text that the island floats because... ancient people wanted it to float, so it's safe and the Hero could be there. Ok, thanks, but that delivery buried my sky-related expectations.
The repetition of the ancient sages cutscenes after each temple was ridiculous. None of it is bad, but if they're not going to add something each time, at least have a shorter version. Make a full sequence rewatchable like memories, but keep these moments short so it doesn't turn the initial impact into an expected joke. Secret stone? Demon King?
Finally I had a couple of odd moments when progressing the main quest. * All gathered at Lookout Landing after people saw Zelda at the castle, all the main quest stuff is brought up and my Link eventually decides to update people on the fifth sage, the Master Sword and what happened to Zelda. Nothing about a fake Zelda though, because we need the "twist" we're about to get of course. Purah observes he could have said so earlier about the sword, people are shocked for 5 seconds about Zelda despite the mind-shattering implication for anyone who cares about her, and we move on. This dialogue was extremely weird. * When about to go fight Ganondorf, smart Purah had the most uncharacteristic brain fart, observing he likely wasn't on the surface and nowhere in the depths we explored, wondering where he could be. Hmmm let's see, we met him under the castle, he fell there, where the gloom still comes out and he just tricked us, hmmmm... that's a tough one... So while I'm sure I could have ignored that and gone straight under the castle, for proper completion I "had" to talk to Josha, she essentially put me back on track to find Kohga, in our final encounter he "revealed" that Ganondorf was under Hyrule Castle. Shocker.
These moments yet again showed a contradiction in an open approach to something designed with a specific path in mind, and it felt a bit like the game said "weird choice, but anyway..."

Mechanics

I think every hand ability is more interesting than runes in BOTW, regular items are more useful than ever, crafting is impressive. I already liked shrines in BOTW but the new ones are even more interesting because of that.
However I'm not sold on the sages. When going to a temple I liked that one follows you for tailored segments. In battles though they're too messy, you need them close to activate but it goes against you and them fighting freely. Outside of battle sometimes they get in the way when pressing A, sometimes they just stand far away. I was more comfortable with the ability triggering through Link in BOTW. Given how randomly useful they are, it's also annoying to go to special items to turn on/off. Tulin is really apart with the airborne wind gust, to the point where I had it on for most of my exploration but it was annoying to see him fly around or attack things without me asking. It could have been special Rito feathers for the paraglider or something. I understand they focused on fighting along companions but IMO combat was unnecessary for the sage ghosts. Keep it for the temples with the real sages, it's more unique and enjoyable. Mineru's construct may be the exception.
I'm reserved about some Zonai devices despawning after a while. I get a point of view that wings and ballons shouldn't take you anywhere from the start, but at the same time it's also being able to fly the thing, and it becomes quickly irrelevant anyway as you can find ways around that. Either with rockets or fans (two fans at an angle with a control stick quickly became popular), gliding with more stamina, or inevitable glitches. Nintendo knew how it went with BOTW crafters, it's in good part what encouraged them in that direction. They also knew it was about providing tools for free exploration which they even promote. So I don't know what putting a timer on some base items does, besides unnecessary anxiety to players we don't know any better but enjoy traveling around. Not a huge deal, but I don't really get it.

User interaction

They somehow made the weapon swap menu more sluggish and horizontal menus are a mess when going through many items. For less frequent items I often ended up opening the full menu, obviously a grid cuts down on time to get to the item you need. But you can't do that with arrows, so occasionally I'd spend well over 15 seconds scrolling, sorting clumsily hoping that would help. I get that the horizontal layout may be to keep sight of the action... If they really need to minimize clutter vertically, they could for example spread items in one row per category (zonai devices / food collectibles / minerals / etc), the row in focus is fully visible in the middle like we have now, rows above and below are faded, and you can move up and down to change category. Armchair developer suggestion I know, but surely they can work on something better.
Nintendo love unnecessary prompts in repetitive interactions. In this game we still have Great Fairies armor upgrades happening one by one and telling you what's going on each time, Beedle's casual observations no one reads for the billionth time, stable folks apparently recognizing you but thinking you have the worst memory... It depends on the player I guess, but if there's one they should streamline it's shrine rewards. I think no one intends to watch the whole thing again besides the first and last ones. No one can do anything with the orb as you stand there, there's no relevant information about it. Just say congrats and load me out please.

Design, Art & Tech

The Zelda team are incredibly competent in everything that makes up a game but aren't immune to hardware limitations. BOTW was already an amazing technical feat, they one-upped it despite comments that TOTK "looks the same". It doesn't exactly, it's more ambitious and better optimized. It's still fair to point at frame drops, resolution drops, pop-in. As amazed as I was by the Wind Temple for example, the heavy stutters took me out of it a few times which is a shame. And this isn't lack of time, care or resources, comparing to any AAA is a clear indication that the Zelda devs are masters on this platform. While this is the best we'll see on this console everyone is justified in wanting hardware closer to a modern standard to support the devs' ideal vision.
I'm generally cautious about that argument because "more power" doesn't magically mean "more and better content". In fact restrictions and simplicity can play in favor of a game's qualities, for example not worrying too much about photo-realism and extremely detailed models due to a wonderful art direction. But it's tough to admit when the game is undermined by those restrictions. The under-utilized sky world may be concerned by this, officially they kept it sparse for level design concerns, but I can't help to feel like filling up the sky would also have the Switch struggle much more than it does. I may be biased but of all the islands, I remember the most persistent frame drops when messing around on the Great Sky Island, where there's so much more to see. I can also imagine dark undergrounds partly justified by less detail on display, and caves by much smaller environments.
If you read everything you get a bubbul gem, if not tell me what you thought anyway

​
Before I dump on the game, let me mention a few of the places that were actually clever:

• The bit with Camelus where you had to raise the bridge and shoot into it from below.
• Figuring out there was a path under the bridge that the ice block blocked.
• Figuring out that you could get up on the ice block from the other end of the crane.

I found the game to be disappointing and frustrating, all down to three reasons:

• The lack of interaction modes. Everything is a doorknob.
• The lack of characters, plot, conflict, and motivation.
• An inability to suspend disbelief, made even more absurd by the ending.

Let's look at these, along with contrasting to early Cyan games, and notice how combining all three together makes for a poor experience.
Essentially, the only mode of interaction available is turning a knob. While this is not necessarily a game killer (Myst, for example, only has clicking something) in Firmament it is completely treated as turning a knob. That is, every time you use the adjunct, you're interacting with a manufactured bit of machinery to control power to one or the other function of what you're connecting to. This leads to a sparse range of puzzles that can be included, essentially none of which progress the narrative. And it leads to the requirement for a technical instruction manual at the start of the game.
There's no "let the water out of the chest then close the knob again so it'll float when you fill the pool." There's no compass rose or turning mirrors. There's no locks to find the combination to (fortunately, given the plot). There's no sorting of singing monkeys. There's no tempting of birds with seed pods. There's no catching of Squees. There's no summoning of Wharks. The steam generator and pipes to fill the Voltaic airship actually work logically, and there's a reason they're puzzling, unlike the steam pipes in Curievale. (I had to actually look up which world the steam pipes were in just now, which shows you how well-integrated that puzzle is.) Also, each puzzle is independent of all the others; there's no foreshadowing of what you need to know, nor cleverness of relating one puzzle to another, as was common all through Exile for example.
Almost all the puzzles (including the most frustrating) involve trying to find the next doorknob to turn; or, having found it, trying to figure out how to reach it with the one and only tool available. Occasionally there's the "let's see if I can find the hidden pathway." Almost none of them involve figuring something out based on the environment or the world building. When stuck, I found myself walking around with the adjunct out looking for some hidden doorknob to light up, or wandering into unobvious corners and walking around the edge of the playable area seeing if I missed a hidden pathway. This is compounded by the huge amount of nonsensical consistency-busting designs. (Watch any first-time playthrough and you'll see the player running all over the place looking for the next clue.)
Granted, once you figured out the solution, it was often clear in hindsight what you were supposed to have been doing.

• You could realize the conservatory is symmetrical and has rubble blocking the way so you need to climb across the planters.
• You could figure out that there were controls under the sulfur you couldn't see the first time by looking at the diagram, if you could figure out what the diagram was saying without extensive exploring to start with.
• You could figure out that the goal in the battery field was to connect the one wire to the other (and not stringing batteries from the outside inwards) once you realize there's exactly two wires leading out from the lake and the error is "no connection".
• You could figure out what order the sockets get concatenated in by looking at their orientations. (Granted, they tried to teach you that during "verification.")
• Once you've drained the first reservoir, it becomes clear the odd structures sticking up were walkways.
• Often you progress a ways through a puzzle and then you can see the exit.

The lack of characters, living people, conflict, narrative, etc also left the game feeling lacking. There's nobody you can interact with, almost no direction is provided as to what you should do (and no, just saying "start the Embrace" doesn't help given you have no memory of what that means), and no motivation for doing it other than some ghost tells you. The real reason you work at it is you know you're playing a game. The fact that the world is terribly inconsistent with the story, and the mentor wants you to do things she won't reveal, just compounds the problem.

• One of the first things she tells you is she'll lie to you, which kind of gave away the "you are Turner" ending.
• You're the only person alive/awake, you're vital to the completion of the project, and your mentor can tell you what to do, but she doesn't.
• In Myst, Riven, Exile, you're given ongoing plot, and you know your motivation from the start, and why there's nobody helping you.
• The ending is an unsatisfying info dump. The beginning is the same. There really wasn't a sense of accomplishment, especially since "Hey, you got to the end, no go away, everything else is automated."

The entire time I was playing, I was saying to myself "Why would this be like this?" It made the entire experience tremendously gamey. Myst and Riven didn't make you think "why would anyone do this?" Exile and Portal both had reasons for being full of puzzles, as well as a motivation for your opponent to be setting up the puzzles and for making them solvable. But Firmament should have been 10x as easy to navigate, except that wouldn't make a good game, so artificial barriers that make no sense are set in your way. This, for me, destroyed the suspension of disbelief. Especially when the ending reveals that even the things you might have thought were accidental were designed that way. Even the constructed places were designed like puzzles rather than somewhere you want your workers to be effective at working.

• Why would your mentor set things up that you needed to work so hard to make happen what she wanted?
• Why are there even locks on the doors, given only keepers and crew are there?
• Why would any giant door only have a doorknob on one side, especially when there are other doors you can enter?
• Why wouldn't there be a path around the skiff engine so you could couple either side?
• Why is there even a cargo skiff stuck to the side of a building that has stairs at the top and bottom of its range? That's like making a handicap elevator that opens onto a staircase landing. What are you moving on the skiff?
• Why would you install steam pipes zig-zagging all over under the water?
• Why would you install the gangways zig-zagging all over under the water?
• Why would you install steam valves that block the path when turned on? Why not turn that bit so they stick out over space?
• What does turning on the steam even do, other than clearing the way to the spire? It's not powering anything at the exit. Why are the pipes and heaters even there except to make a puzzle?
• Why do the electric heaters need steam power?
• Why do pressurized steam pipes glow green, except to make the puzzle possible? Why are electric lights shining out from inside the steam pipes?
• Why wouldn't you provide all the modes of running the crane on top of the crane? Why can't you raise the hook from on top of the crane?
• How is Juleston the only place that needs special electricity? Where do the other realms get their electricity that this realm couldn't?
• Why does the conservatory have collapsed columns blocking the way that aren't anywhere else in the building? There's no place for them to have fallen from. They're not symmetrical with the other half of the building.
• Why wouldn't the walkways around planters go all the way around? How are you supposed to care for or harvest the contents on the sides without walkways?
• Why wouldn't the controls for rotating the planters be more easily accessible? There's 6 or so controls to raise and lower each planter, and one control to rotate them that you wouldn't even be able to access on foot.
• Why do you need to ride the ice block to get to the factory? Did OSHA approve that? How come the protective gear described on the sign isn't available?
• Why did the walkway in the ice processing center that the moving bridge fills collapse, and where did the collapsed floor go? There are no broken plates on the floor.
• Why is there even a movable room in the ice processing center? Why not just finish building the bridges and walkways?
• How did whoever put the moving bridge there leave? You can only reach it standing on top of an ice block.
• Why is the green pipe valve hidden behind a bunker? Wouldn't it be easier to build stairs?
• Why wouldn't you build stairs all the way to the ground instead of having to walk along the crane to an ice block to reach the stairs?
• Why are there blocks of ice all over outside the processing center?
• How did all the ice blocks get around the base of the crane? Why not grind those up instead?
• How did the block of ice block the pathway, then the bridge get closed, except intentionally?
• Why not put all the controls for the sulfur mixer in one socket?
• Why is there a giant door requiring three sockets to get connected? The tracks don't go through, and there's nothing to be moved from one side to the other, and no vehicle nearby. Why is it there, and who closed it for that matter?
• Who would build a vehicle where the part you need to line up can't be seen from the steering wheel? Camelus' back door is not visible from the steering wheel. The first ice crane has to be automated at each end because you can't see what's happening. The alignment of the second ice crane is invisible from inside the crane, requiring the platform out the side.

And then you get to the end, and it becomes even more absurd, given that everything you've seen was intentionally designed and built.

• Why would the crane be constructed to run into the cliff? Put it farther out like the bubble car, or don't put rocks jutting out to block its path.
• Why would the sulfur need to be mined? It's not really a planet. Why not stacks of sulfur bricks? Why are there geysers in space?
• Why would you build the bubble car rails where they'd get frozen by ice? There's no seasonal run-off making waterfalls so you had to know that would happen.
• Why pretend you're mining coal? Why launch your coal supply from the ground in rocks instead of extracting it on Earth?
• Why are you wasting coal melting ice anyway? Just use the water before you freeze it. Why build the heat-powered power plant in the coldest realm?
• Why not build the steam furnace downhill from piles of coal and a big pool of water?
• What were you planning to do with a bunch of mountains in orbit when you got to your destination?
• Lots of puzzles block you from turning them off once solved. Why? And how'd they even get in that state in the first place? Nobody is working against you, and nobody has more authority to make changes than you do.

And many more I don't remember the details of.
Given Cyan's track record, one might ponder some of the inconsistencies in implementation and wonder whether they have a deeper meaning. I couldn't find any.

• The first double-bridge you come to, you have to navigate around to cross; the second double-bridge you can just reach the adjunct across; the bubble car there (I think) is positioned in a way that the last person to leave couldn't set up.of mentor dialog or books or something.
• Only one bunker has an alternate exit.
• Only one bunker has a hibernation bed. Did she drag that there? Her monologue doesn't sound like it.
• It seems like a bad idea to have the Juleston bunker close you in when the power goes off.
• Places blocked by rubble have nowhere above for the rubble to have come from.
• Collapsed floors that need to be bridged have no broken flooring or rubble under them, nor is there any reason for them to have collapsed.
• The first double-bridge you come to, you have to naviate around to cross; the second double-bridge you can just reach the adjunct across; the bubble car there (I think) is positioned in a way that the last person to leave couldn't set up.
• The moving bridge near the ice grinder for sure could not have been left that way (unless someone got ground up). Otherwise riding the ice wouldn't be a puzzle.
• The first place you need to connect three sockets, and there's only one order they connect in.
• The second place needs four sockets connected, but still shows "1/3" when you do the first one.
• When there's some option not currently available for a socket, you're not given that option. Or maybe it goes "Doink". Or maybe just nothing happens. Or maybe it's dimmed out. Or maybe it starts and then immediately reverts.

Compare to Myst: Myst was surreal, magical. It's expected in such situations that there will be weirdness. Nevertheless, essentially every puzzle was reasonable in its environment and grounded and somewhat predictable. Things like getting the key to the lighthouse was grounded in basic physics; things like resetting the spaceship after a mistake, or figuring out how to deduce the stoneship symbols, or raising the channelwood tree, were based on wide-spread cultural references. Where there were other puzzles, the end-goal was shown in advance, with you almost always running across the lock before being presented with the keys. The rare maze allowed you to (mostly) see where you were going several steps ahead and also told you the destination before you found it. The pointers to the story were left in conspicuous places (the note on the grass, the blue and red books). Also, the weird crap was explained in extensive world-building (heh) books in the library. Nothing (almost) was hidden just to make a puzzle harder. The solution to each puzzle was presented while you're in the puzzle trying to figure out the solution, if only you were clever or observant enough to understand it. If you wanted to get into the spaceship, you followed the wires. The elevator trick in Mechanical Age wasn't hidden; you just had to think about why the elevator didn't start right away. The most hidden thing there was the secret panels, which were secret, but still had a target drawn on them. Every place you were stymied by a lock, the lock was intentionally put there to keep natives of the land away from the books, or to keep others from using the books on Myst Island (i.e., the places of protection).
Contrast with (say) the greenhouse puzzle: first you have to figure how to get to the entrance riding the skiff, because that made so much more sense than another flight of stairs or a ladder; thank goodness the vines didn't quite close off every path. Then you have to figure out that the place you're trying to go is the other side of the planters on the same level (and not to the thing that looks like a lift or ladder), even though you can't see the other side. Then you ride the things around a while, trying to see the walkways above and below you, before realizing there's another doorknob down at the bottom; good thing they all have distinctive lights on them, eh? That doorknob can only be reached from where you're far from your goal, and from a limited number of puzzle states, then you have to work your way all the way back up, and then if you're lucky you'll have figured out how to turn the planters so you can dodge across. Sometimes you can cross on the diagonal, sometimes it's a fraction too far. And your knees don't bend, so you can't get over the foot-high plank lying on the floor. Or look at the steam pipes and heaters. You need to turn them on, and oh goody, they light up when you do. But some of the doorknobs don't glow; other sockets on the pipes aren't doorknobs they just look that way. Some of the pipes go above the surface, and you can't tell where they come back down. You then can turn on electric heaters using steam, somehow. You have to go down to turn one on, then melt some ice, then coming back up requires turning that off again. Several times you have to turn it on, then turn it off again because the valve was installed in a way that blocks the walkway. There's a valve hidden behind a grate for some reason, but fortunately your other tool can go through grates and the walkway passes by quite close. Then you have to turn on a valve, loop around to go two levels down, turn on the second valve that you can't get to because the steampunk builders thought it was a good idea to install valves that block the pathway, come back up far enough to turn on the third valve, go back down to turn on the heater, come back up and turn off the first valve, then you can progress. And when you've worked the steam power all the way to the end, what do you get? A steam-powered machine? No, just the same electric lift as in every other realm. Good thing, because you had to turn the steam off again to get to the other side of the path. The only reason for the steam pipes is to make a puzzle that somehow runs electric heaters off steam pressure, with electricity at both ends of the path already. Oh, and there's a hundred meters of gangway in loops and ramps in the water, instead of, you know, a path from one side to the other.
Compare to Riven: Riven is grounded like Firmament. It's not particularly supernatural. The stuff is mechanical, not magical. If someone disappears from a one-door room, there's probably a hidden switch. Granted, "fire marbles" aren't explained, and why there would even need to be clues to get into Tay is unclear story-wise, but OK, combinations to locks need to be written where you can find them. And the mine cart going under water was just Rule Of Cool. Everything else makes sense. Secret passages are only secret from one side. Doors are locked between where Ghen moves and where natives move, and locked on the side where Ghen is. When there's a "hidden" passage that's hard to see, the people who created it leave a pointer (usually a dagger). When there's a hidden door, you can see into the adjacent room so you know to look for the door. There's no case of "wander all over the level holding the 'show me interaction points' control, trying to figure out if there's a button that enables some other part of the level to work." There's no wondering whether you need an upgrade to even start working on this puzzle. If there's a hidden button to make something work, you can follow the wire to it (the fan), or see the pathway over there, or see the room through the window (book assembly island dome), or notice from where you start there's only one other path of many open (the lake sub), or etc. Look at the design of the wood pulp boiler vs the sulphur mixer. And again, the reason for all the locks are explained in-game. Riven is a masterclass in adventure game design because the puzzles all make sense in the context and story of the game, all of which we see before we need to know it, and there's almost nothing arbitrary about the puzzles.
Contrast with Firmament: Firmament looks realistic, but is surreal in detail. The entire place acts like one giant puzzle, with a dozen unintuitive steps to get from each place to the next. It has knobs that can control things remotely, but uses that capability to put things out of reach instead of making things easier, even tho the only people with adjuncts would be people who are supposed to be working the machines. It has machinery on rails constructed too close to other features to let the cars pass (like the first crane blocked by rocks, the second crane blocked by ice, the bubble car blocked by the ice, etc), which is even more silly when you find out the cliffs aren't natural either. It uses complex machinery of all different kinds to accomplish the same ends; the skiff vs the first crane vs the second crane vs the sulfur trains; the conveyance pods vs the bubble cars vs (cripes) riding blocks of ice and hopping off hopefully before you reach the shredder blades. There are places where simple stairs or bridges could be built, but instead there's a half dozen baroque processes to get from one place to another place a literal stone's throw away (see "riding blocks of ice" as well as the pointless skiff and the pointless steam pipes and ....). There's several kinds of power supplies which have to be turned on, each of which powers only the bits of puzzle blocking your way. There are innumerable doorknobs placed in cages where you have to be at the right angle to fire them with no obvious reason for the cage walls to be blocking you from there (see "riding blocks of ice"). Even at the end you have to walk entirely around the axis twice to unlock a door you're 20 feet from when you come out into space.
Compare to Exile: Exile is surreal, but this time it's intentionally designed by its creator to be surreal. Each age has a purpose and a theme, and it looks designed (unlike Myst's ages). The design of each Age gives you clues to the solutions of the puzzles, and then plays into the endgame. You have an ongoing story that tells you the motivations of the people involved. You have a reason you're suddenly thrown into the situation alone. (As in Myst and Riven, for that matter.) No need for the cliche loss of memory or untrustworthy narrator (both features of Firmament, both described in the opening monologue). There's a reason the puzzles are more difficult than you'd think necessary. The same reason is why there are clues how to solve them scattered about. And you're shown the ways in which the puzzles were made more difficult, which helps tell the story; nothing is randomly broken by accident. When you solve an age, you get a beautiful reward of getting to see the age laid out before you to admire. The ending is fulfilling, and in your hands, left to you to figure out how to bring about some solution or the best solution.
Contrast with Firmament: No setup other than a monologue telling you "you remember nothing, I might lie, go do puzzles I mean maintenance work." The puzzles are arbitrary-progress-blockage puzzles. There's very little where you have to think about what the world is like to make things work. The ages don't feel any different from each other, because every one is "figure out where the path is, where the goal is, and then try to find where you can reach the doorknob from." There's no puzzle having to do with ice on Curievale (other than the heaters, which are just different forms of doors). There's no puzzle having to do with plants on St. Andrew. Even places where you might have figured it out, it was tedious rather than clever; for example, the batteries were painted colors. Imagine how it would have been if you could see into the water and each post had a different number of batteries wired to it? I don't really want to spend time doing linear algebra to figure out puzzles during my gaming hour. And when you do solve a puzzle, half the time you're inside a building or vehicle where you can't see what's happening; the shutters only open once, the bubble cars obscure most of the view, engaging the Embrace doesn't make it obvious the doors are opening in the spire, etc.
How could I have done better? Well, I don't design games for a living, but I've been playing adventure games since they were coded in FORTRAN and printed their text on paper. There are a few obvious places the puzzles could have been made more enjoyable.

• Make the batteries in Juleston visible through the water, with different pylons having different numbers of batteries visibly connected. Then you don't have to do linear algebra and experiments to figure out what's going on, and the fact that the final step is also providing power would be obvious. This would leave open the possibility for the people who want to do linear algebra. (Sort of like how the sound direction clues in Mechanical Age let you navigate in Selentic Age even though there were adequate clues if you went to Selentic first.)
• Keep the steam pipes underwater, so you can follow where the next valve is.
• Actually require the player to mix the sulfur with the sulfur mixer, just for realism. And don't just have the computer tell the user what the next step is. "Door crusted." "Too much acid." "Pool full." Show, don't tell, like with the crusted lock at the start. Maybe make it so you can look into the pool before you add sulfur and see that there are controls down there, and locking lugs, and crusty stuff.
• When a machine finally turns on, make it obvious why you needed that machine in the first place. The whole "turn on steam" in Curievale was there to clear the way of ice in your way (with electric heaters, no less), while the builders could have just put a walkway over or straight through the water there. They could have made the lift at the end obviously running on steam pressure, which might have even made sense in the context of the steampunk origin story. The whole "turn on the batteries" in Juleston was there to power a half dozen machines while other machines all over already had power. Why does the Juleston bunker (you know, the place holding all the maintenance supplies) need battery power to be accessible and the others don't? (Oh, that's right, achievements.) Why did you have to send power to the bunker in order to open the giant doors? And again, the sulfur didn't need mixing (can you tell I'm traumatized?).
• Put some puzzles in that have to do with the age. Require a puzzle where you have to know ice floats, like drop a giant floating ice cube in the resevoir to get across. Require a puzzle where you have to fertilize or poison (with sulfur?) or electrocute (after powering up Juleston?) plants to progress through St Andrew. Let the player pick up a battery to locally power puzzles in Juleston (due to broken wires?) instead of just declaring that this lift lacks power but that lift works fine.

Anyway, that's my TED Talk rambling rant. Hope you enjoyed. :)
P.S., what it reminds me most, thinking on it, is all the knock-off adventure games that came out right after Myst became a world-wide success. Except refined and moved into the 2020s.