Far cry 6 wiki

No friends,never had a girlfriend and ugly. Everything was alright since i was in primary school grade 5. Then we moved and everything went downhill. My brain turned off and I just started making stupid decision. Got in trouble in high school for stealing then I got bullied/made fun of for 5 years.I had enough so i just decided to go to a public school that just opened near me wich was the dummest decision of my life. The teachers were horrible the classes were horrible and there were so many red flags not to go there. After 6 months of enduring more torure i've decided to call it quits. My parents told me to go to adult high school in september and i agreed but in reality I don't want to be here anymore. Ive tried overdosing on my depression pills but it didn't work. I've tried hanging myself but I'm to much of a coward to do it. I have 0 friends and my life is miserable. I cannot even cry that's how bad it is. I wish I was never born in this shitty world.

So this is mostly just to vent, I also would love to hear if anyone has been in a similar position to me. Last week my girlfriend broke up with me, we’d been together for 6 months and we were friends for a year before that. She chased me to begin with and then we had probably the most emotionally fulfilling relationship I’ve ever had, the love and support between us was incredible and for the first time I finally felt like I’d found my soulmate (I’ve been in several relationships). We are at different points in our lives, I’m a couple of years older with a full time job and she’s in her last year of musical theatre school about to move to London to chase her dream. For the past month we’ve had some issues, mostly with not being able to fulfil eachothers needs and being on the wrong page. She needed more space and I needed more reassurance and we just pushed and pulled. We had a weeks break to figure out what we needed and to create a plan and we came together and communicated and worked out what we were going to do. In 2 weeks we were supposed to be going abroad for 10 days with eachother for my mums wedding and she just broke up with me. I paid for her passport to come in time and organised it all and now I feel so lost. Her reasoning for breaking up was that she just can’t do it anymore, it’s too stressful and she thinks we’re incompatible but she loves me very much and doesn’t want anyone else but she just can’t be with me anymore and would like to remain friends. I’m truly heart broken, I invested more into this relationship than I ever have with anyone else and throughout it we were both so sure that we would work through anything and we’d literally spoken about marriage (bearing in mind we were both anti marriage before we met). I’m so confused as to why she made this decision and I’m so hurt but I just can’t hate her, obviously I have hope for us but she’s made it clear this isn’t what she needs right now. Any advice for what to do going forwards or whether she’s lying about why we broke up? As far as I’m aware there isn’t someone else, even when we were in a rough place she still would go on about how I’m the love of her life and we will work through it.

So I really don't know if this is the right place to put this but I just found out and I am BEYOND upset about this. (Also excuse bad format as I am on my phone)
So, I (16f) am a lesbian and I dated my now ex partner for 6 weeks and they broke up w me for mental health reasons that I totally understand. We are still friends and we have been for the last 2 years or so.
So when we broke up I was OBVIOUSLY upset about it and I was on my period so I was a bit of a wreck. It also might be worth mentioning I am nearly done doing my GCSEs so extra stress.
I was originally not gonna tell anyone but I really had to get it out so I told my irl best friend. She was comforting me and she rang me before I went to bed to ask about something (I can't remember what it was) and she was also asking me if I was okay and stuff.
As I was calling my best friend my dad called me to say I had to go to bed. So I hung up and went to brush my teeth. I came back upstairs to pack my bag for school and as my brother was downstairs I was crying (obviously) and he heard me when he walked up and asked what was wrong.
I struggled to get the words out and when I did he comforted me. I vaguely explained what it was and he was just comforting me.
The next day he had a youth group with one of our mutual friends and I had given him permission earlier to tell them about our breakup. He asked me how my ex broke up with me and I told him it was a detailed paragraph. He said that was kinda suspicious and I obviously defended them. Ex has had issues like this in the past so I didn't and will continue not to question it.
4 days later I am sitting in my room with my brother and he was telling his girlfriend about a random story my mum was telling us last night and he continued talking to her. I DID NOT give him permission to tell her we had broken up but he did it anyway because she thought she saw me in town so they continued to shit talk. This is how the conversation went:
Bro: I FORGOT TO TELL YOU BUT OP AND EX BROKE UP Gf: LMAOO, THAT'S SO FUNNY! DESERVED Bro: EX BROKE UP WITH HER. AND SHE WAS ALL EMO AND I WAS LIKE LMAO. I HAD TO HOLD IN MY LAUGHTER Gf: I JUST CHECKED, SHE DELETED HER PLAYLIST OFF OF SPOTIFY (I couldn't listen to the songs the same anymore) Gf: PMS Bro: CRYING DYING Gf: THAT WAS SO REAL OF EX Bro: PMS. SO REAL. APPARENTLY IT WAS BECAUSE OF MH. I WAS LIKE MMM NOT BUYING IT Gf: OH SURE (sarcastically) Bro: EXACTLY Gf: I WOULD HAVE BROKEN UP WITH HER TOO Gf: MAD RESPECT Bro: THAT'S HORRIBLE. THIS IS TOO FUNNY
And I had a full blown mental breakdown. I still genuinely love my ex a lot but it's okay.
I am so disgusted with my brother because the fact he was laughing at one of my biggest pains is just awful.
His gf and I always fight but I never new she talked about me like this. I won't act like I don't say awful things but I wouldn't laugh at her for something like this.
Apparently girlfriend was also talking to me with her brother and her brother told her that people like me would end up alone.
I told my ex about this and they too were disgusted. You really have to be careful who you can trust.
I have been considering ghosting people in my home city this summer and he's really making the choice easier and easier.

Other stories of mine can be found in my wiki
For those who want to go back to the beginning, here's a link to book 1 chapter 1.
An image of Lon'thul
Of Men and Dragons, Book 3, Chapter 45
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The order had finally been given. A bellow arose from thousands of argu'n before everyone surged forward. Dak'ton felt his blood thirst rise as he launched himself ahead, albeit a little more slowly encombered as he was by the new tool Lord B'arthon had insisted they bring with them. Then there was a shout from the enemy lines that preceded the first volley of small spears launched toward them.
Dak'ton hadn't believed they could be thrown this far, but judging by the path they were arching in his general direction, the warrior was suddenly grateful for the large thick wooden planks Lord B'arthon had insisted they carry with them. Raising it over his head, he could hear impacts all around him and a few screams as the wooden planks proved insufficient for some in the face of such a barrage. Dak'ton himself felt a jarring impact as one small spear hit his shield and a second impact as it pierced through the wood and hit his chest plate.
The warrior froze momentarily, wondering if he was dead, before realizing the combination of wood and his bone plates must have saved his life. However, Dak'ton was further delayed by trying to wrench the spear from his chest and planks as more warriors ran past. Finally, there was a sharp jolt of pain as he pulled the spear free. He was dismayed to see a trail of blood leaking out of a wound in his chest, but it wasn't deep enough to be a serious concern, so with a grunt, he threw the spear to the ground and resumed his charge.
Looking around, it was clear others weren't as lucky as him. Several were down when the spears impaled their legs where the wood hadn't protected them. Others had spears piercing through their wood like Dak'ton had, but the spear had gone on to hit them in more lightly armored areas like their arms or sides. One unlucky warrior had his wood now pinned to his arm as he screamed and grasped the small spear in an attempt to pull it out.
As Dak'ton gained more ground, another shout went out, and he raised his wood planks again, this time bracing in place, feeling his blood rush in fear as he waited again for impact. However, he didn't have to wait as long this time and again felt a jarring impact. This time the spear pierced through his planks higher up, punching all the way through and continuing to the ground beside him, narrowly missing his head. Around him, others fared worse a second time. A few had dropped their planks after the first barrage, having been unable to wrench the spears free, and were now paying the price.
Dak'ton blinked stupidly a few times before dropping his planks as instructed and running toward the enemy lines again. Lord B'arthon had told them the enemy would only have time for two barrages before they closed the distance, and rushing there after the second would eliminate the risk of a third, and all Dak'ton wanted was to never experience something like that again. Those small spears traveled so much further and faster than normally thrown spears, and they hit much harder despite their small size.
That was when he looked at the enemy and realized Lord B'arthon had made a mistake. Only half the enemy had fired the second round. The other half was still waiting with those odd spear throwers ready to unleash their second round. Dak'ton had a moment of grudging respect for those workers' discipline before a third shout was followed by more spears launched in their direction. Without the protection of his wooden planks, a spear hit Dak'ton clean in the shoulder, and he felt himself being pulled back as if some large creature had ahold of him and was pulling him bodily to the ground. That was when the searing pain came, as though his shoulder was on fire, and Dak'ton's screams joined the chorus of those screaming around him.
-
Lack'nul had no idea how Jack had foreseen the enemy would have those wooden planks, shields he'd called them, but the guard captain was glad he had. Perhaps the human had even more magic than he let on? He'd even been right about the enemy dropping the shields before engaging in melee, saying they would likely be too crude to wield while fighting due to rushed production. Because of that, the second half of the second volley devastated the enemy's front line in the section in front of his workers.
Further down the line, the warriors of the hill people were hurling more traditional throwing spears to lesser effect, but thankfully the enemy didn't seem to have enough shields to arm their entire front line with, so the spears were still effective.
The spears and belly bows had thinned the enemy front lines, but they were still drastically outnumbered. Lack'nul shouted for the workers to discard their belly bows and take up their spears. The workers threw the bows to the ground a few feet in front of them, hoping to trip up the enemy, then raised their spears and braced for impact.
-
A'ngles frowned from his position overseeing the battlefield. The second half-and-half volley had been unexpected. Not that it had cost them too much in the way of manpower, he estimated in total they'd lost maybe a hundred warriors between all three volleys and perhaps a hundred more across the rest of the front lines to the more traditional spears, only a fraction of the two thousand warriors charging in at the moment. Still, it definitely had an impact on the morale of that all-important center formation. Moreover, they'd slowed enough that the front line had bowed back slightly in the middle. Between that, the enemy's armor, and the obstacle the bulky weapons presented on the ground, the eventual charge had much less impact than he'd expected, with more of his own men going down in the initial exchange than the enemy.
Even all this wasn't nearly enough to change the battle's outcome, but it was just a few reminders that this wasn't their usual opponent, and only the gods knew how many more surprises they had in store.
-
The fighting was starting to get desperate. Lack'nul parried blow after blow with his sword, trying to create openings for the workers next to him to take advantage of with their spears. Occasionally an enemy would go down, taking the spear with him, but then the hill people behind them would hand the worker a new spear, and the fighting continued. Then there were the longer spears being thrust from further behind by the hill people. They didn't account for much in the way of killing blows, but they were one more complication the attackers had to beware of, preventing them from striking with total confidence.
It was strange for the guard captain to be fighting on the side of the hill people against what were likely guards from other villages, but he shoved that thought out of his mind as he parried another couple of spear thrusts around him. He wondered if any of the workers he was now familiar with had already died, but again shoved the thought from his mind as he took advantage of an opening and shoved his sword through an enemy warrior's midsection.
His victim grabbed hold of the blade as he fell, and rather than fight for the weapon and leave himself open for others to take advantage of, Lack'nul let go of the weapon and shouted behind him. "Spear!" Soon enough, the shaft of a spear was pressed into his waiting hands, and the guard captain resumed the fight, spinning the end of his spear in a way meant to shake loose his opponent's grip on their own weapon before thrusting forward and scoring a grazing attack his across the warrior's throat. It wasn't deep enough to kill but more than enough to spook his opponent, who drew back for a moment in shock.
That created enough of an opening that Lack'nul should have been able to get another kill, but then he noticed a spearhead flying toward him from the side, forcing the guard captain to step back and bring up his own spear, spinning the shaft in a way to deflect the strike and allow him to bring his own spearhead around to strike, driving his second foe back before turning his attention to the first, swiping with the butt of his spear before bringing the head around for another strike more designed to buy a moment than land a killing blow.
The guard captain was breathing heavily, wondering how much longer he should try to hold this spot.
-
A'ngles watched intently as the fighting continued, focusing most of his attention on that all-important center line. He could see individual fighters moving back and forth on both sides. Occasionally some fell and were replaced, but the armor on the workers kept them alive longer. But, of course, that also meant they were constantly fighting for extended periods, unable or unwilling to switch out with the less well-armed and armored allies behind them. In a massive battle like this, endurance was the key to victory, and it was just a matter of time before his greater numbers took their toll. Perhaps it was simply his imagination, but it seemed like the enemy line was starting to bow just the slightest amount in the middle. He just had to keep the pressure on...
Turning to two of his aide, the Village Lord issued his orders. "Send a runner to either flank and order fifty warriors from each to peel off and reinforce the center."
The aide nodded and repeated his orders to two runners as the old Lord continued to observe the battle.
-
Lon'thul traveled through the forest with an arrow knocked but not drawn as he crept ahead of the rest. Aside from Jack, Angela, Em'brel, and the wolgen all at the rear, the rest in their group were all hunters, used to moving quickly and silently through the underbrush, but even compared with the proud hunters of the hill people, Lon'thul was the undisputed master of his trade. So he walked ahead of the rest to look for ambushes.
It could have been just another day on the hunt if it weren't for the sounds of battle a little to his right. The hunter was glad non of his friends could see him at the moment, or else they'd notice his characteristic grin was absent in favor of a more stern expression. Something felt off about the forest, and he couldn't quite place a talon on what it was. He felt as if a presence had passed through not long ago, but the only person who could move this subtly was...
That was when the hunter noticed another scout ahead of his position. By Lon'thul's standard, he was moving loudly and clumsily. Looking around to ensure there wasn't anyone else present, Lon'thul took aim while inhaling silently. Once he had his target, he began exhaling while drawing back on the string, letting loose the arrow when he was about halfway out of air. After long hours of practice and countless hunts, he knew the arrow would fly true. However, he couldn't help but momentarily hold his remaining breath as he waited anxiously for a fraction of a second it took the arrow to clear the distance to its target.
As expected, the arrow embedded itself into his target's throat, pinning him to the tree behind him as the scout struggled briefly before falling limp. After ensuring there was no other movement to indicate another watcher, Lon'thul crept up and silently removed the arrow. Jack had once again been proven correct. It looked like B'arthon had sent an ambush to cut off their flanking maneuver. However, if the hunter could get enough of their scouts quickly enough, they might be able to ambush their ambushers. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he mimicked a kovaack's grunt to signal a halt. To his ears, it sounded nothing like an actual kovaack, but other hunters had told him it had an uncanny similarity from a small distance away.
Assuming one to two hundred warriors, they probably had ten to fifteen scouts. As the hunter snuck through the brush, he kept his ears open for any minor disturbances. A shadow out of place, or the sound of a twig cracking where he knew no animal would be. After an agonizingly long minute during which he tried to not think about what was happening in the main battle, he found another hunter, but this one was dangerously close to a second.
Lon'thul frowned, sliding sideways to get a shot from their flank with his back to the position of the one he'd already taken out so he could sneak closer to take his shot. Finally, after a few more agonizingly long seconds, he was in position, and the hunter knocked another arrow.
Standing and drawing in one smooth motion, Lon'thul took quick aim at the further of the two hunters before either knew what happened and loosed his arrow. However, rather than wait for his arrow to hit the target this time, Lon'thul dropped his bow while drawing a knife in one smooth action and flung the blade at the second scout, who was already starting to move at the appearance of the enemy from his supposedly protected flank.
Once again, rather than wait, Lon'thul leaped at his target, who was starting to fall, opening his mouth to shout out, but the hunter wrapped his arm around his victim's throat, slamming his mouth shut on his tongue, turning the scout's shout into a loud whimper as the hunter finished the job.
Lon'thul grabbed his knife and slunk back into the shadows, waiting for more scouts to come to check on the sounds of the scuffle. It was only after none appeared for over a minute that the hunter retrieved his arrow and returned to his bow with a frown. He was confident he'd been quiet enough to avoid detection by the main force, but the next scout over should have heard the twigs snapping as the two combatants struggled. Had he simply run back to report the disturbance without checking on the source of it? Given Lon'thul's reputation, it might have been a good move, but then the whole group would be "ambushing" every medium-sized animal in the forest, giving away their position! It didn't make sense...
The hunter calmed himself. Rather than jumping to conclusions, the only thing for him to do was precisely what he thought they should have done, go and check it out. He'd simply have to trust Angela to inform the rest if he walked into some ambush since she was silently watching everything from his headset.
As he rounded another tree, he found some disturbed underbrush roughly where he expected the next scout to be. As he crept closer, he realized there was a body there. The scout was already dead!
Lon'thul froze, holding his bow and ready to draw in the blink of an eye if any threat presented itself and thought rapidly. He knew he was the only one of his people's scouts out this far, so it couldn't have been any of his men. But what purpose could they have for placing this body here? He'd suspect a trap, but it made no sense. Still, it wouldn't help anyone if he stayed here any longer than he had to, so Lon'thul resumed movement, redoubling his efforts to remain silent and hidden as he moved.
After another moment, he came to another likely location and, after a moment of observation, found another dead scout. This time the hunter crept closer, inspecting the body. The sout's throat had been slit, likely from behind. He could even imagine someone's hand wrapping around the poor scout's mouth to silence any shout before the knife had done its work. That meant someone had walked right up behind the scout as he'd been searching for his own prey. Lon'thul might have been able to pull that off on a good day, but he'd never have risked it with so much on the line. Remembering the presence he'd felt earlier, he realized only one other hunter could pull something this brazen off...
Now Lon'thul was fully alert, scanning every shadow and listening for even the slightest disturbances while waiting with an arrow ready. This time he didn't have the luxury of waiting for his opponent to act first. He had to take the initiative and do it now! But beating his father in a duel wasn't his objective. Outmaneuvering the enemy force was. Putting a hand on the headset, the hunter activated the com and broke silence for the first time. "My position may be compromised, but if you move fast, you can still take the enemy unaware. Tell Jack to charge now!"
Putting his hand down, Lon'thul settled into position and readied another arrow. He knew his father wouldn't kill him like the other scouts, but that didn't mean the old hunter wouldn't try to pull him out of the battle now that he'd given away his location. The younger hunter would just have to be even faster this time...
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In case you missed it and are interested, book 1 is available to purchase in digital or physical form.
If you want to support my work or help me cover the costs of publishing, you can find my Patreon here. Though it's not necessary, I'm really just glad you took the time to read my stories.

Mazda 3 1.6 2009 manual
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Started yesterday but could have been in play for weeks unnoticed.
At start up this morning, noticed initial idle speed was at almost 2.2k revs. It's typically around 1.7 while it warms the cat up, then settles nicely to 0.7. Today I notice I can lower the revs dramatically by turning the steering wheel, like some minor rpm change isn't too unusual, but this changes the revs by almost 1k. It felt funky to drive today as in motion the car is over revving when changing gears or after a short squirt of acceleration.
The revs stay high and drop far too slowly. At one point in second gear @ approx 25 mph, the car would maintain its speed on a slight incline with zero accelerator input.
​
I have had an issue with a dirty throttle sensor before, which I cleaned with success maybe 12 months ago. That caused some similar issues in places, but the more I think, The more I'm wondering if it’s a vacuum leak somewhere ? The change in rpm when moving the wheel is confusing me.
Just looking for some guidance if possible. I enjoy working on my car, but a mechanic I am not!

[This is a translated excerpt from Clemens Traub’s “Future for Fridays?”. It’s a reflection about his time as an activist in “Fridays for Future” – the German branch of “School Strike for Climate”. The specific problem of western environmentalism discussed therein is germane to the issue of dysfunctional leftism often discussed on stupidpol and as far as I can tell nothing of this unique to Germany. The book is from 2020 and by now the movement “Fridays for Future” basically defunct. Meanwhile, the preferred tactic of current activists is it to glue themselves on main roads during rush hour. This protest method obviously affects working class people most, who have to physically show up at work (and often have to use cars to do so), and is less disruptive for the WFH email caste. The result of this is, surprisingly, a staggering 80+% disapproval rating for the climate organization “Last Generation” which is doing this.]
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I know the typical milieu of most “Fridays for Future” protesters well. In a way, it's my own and that of my current circle of friends: metropolitan, left-liberal, hip. A space for the daughters of doctors to meet the sons of lawyers. Gin tasting and discussions about plastic-free shopping and zero waste are equally high on the agenda. Veganism is as much part of the unspoken code of being trendy as frequenting second-hand shops. And the organic grocery store around the corner naturally enhances the location of your own home.
The offspring of the professional class keep to themselves. Does the climate movement represent a cross-section of society? Not even close! Fridays for Future is the rebellion of the privileged, and the movement offers them the perfect opportunity to flaunt their own cosmopolitan lifestyle and talent.
Many of my climate-concerned friends are questioning whether the social background of the demonstrators matters at all. Isn't that absolutely unimportant? The main thing, they are convinced, is that the earth is saved. It doesn't matter by whom. The population has been silent for long enough, and now it is finally time to stand up.
I admit that the consistency of this chain of thought was extremely appealing to me and that using social origin as an argument against a group is of course nonsensical. The outlined combative spirit also enthralled me at first. At the beginning of my participation in "Fridays for Future", saving the world was the only thing that counted for me. It didn’t matter who stood by my side. And it still wouldn’t matter for me today.
But what matters to me is the behavior and reasoning of the people protesting with me. And here the circle closes, because the social background reveals more about the movement than the demonstrators would like to admit.
In fact, I take the view that the exclusive social background of the young protesters is the actual birth defect of "Fridays for Future". But because the movement was far too homogeneous, far too elitist and correspondingly far too aloof right from the start, its members remained oblivious to it. Ultimately, only those who are doing well in material terms have the time and leisure to consider climate protection as the most important and also the only political issue of our time and to subordinate everything else to it.
Located in its ivory tower, the movement doesn't even notice that its criticism is leveled at the lifestyle of many economically disadvantaged people, who for financial reasons do not always have a choice. They are denounced as climate sinners because they don't shop in health food stores but at discounters. It never occurs to the demonstrators that there are people whose worries about ever-increasing electricity bills and rental charges make a discussion about forgoing air travel irrelevant from the outset.
And how could they? In their sheltered world, all of that is very far away. But that is exactly what makes the movement a risk, because it jeopardizes the already fragile cohesion of our society. For a large part of the population, however, other, more pressing everyday concerns prevail. For those who are afraid of being affected by job cuts in view of the announcements by the industry, the slashing and burning of tropical rain forest is currently of secondary importance.
Likewise, the extinction of exotic animal species is very far away for someone who worries every day about their tenuous retirement arrangements. That doesn't mean that everyday worries should completely obscure the problems of climate change, but it does explain why climate change is not the first priority for people with existential concerns.
It also explains why measures to save the climate must take economic concerns into account. And it explains why more and more people are wondering whether protesters will finally also take to the streets to deal with their everyday distress: lack affordable housing, declining pensions... plenty of issues exist.
The entire political discourse, both between the parties and outside of parliament, on the street, completely ignores the reality of life for many people in Germany! And I can well imagine that that's not a good feeling for many. The public discussions, which are often far removed from everyday life, exclude less privileged people. The result: we are all sitting on a social powder keg.
I don't originally hail from this metropolitan milieu, but grew up in a region that is often dismissed as "rural backwater". Publications such as "Landlust" and "Landleben" [trendy magazines promoting life in the country side] fulfill the longing of city dwellers for pure nature, but this dream only seems to apply to those people who consciously decide to have a weekend house in the forest. However, anyone who grew up in a rural environment will hardly benefit from this.
My parents live in the Palatinate. I grew up there too. My heart clings to the region, it is scenically beautiful with rows of wine-growing villages. But for an urbanite in pursuit of self-actualization it has to be the worst nightmare. In case your are unfamiliar with Palatinate’s culture: Schlachtfest instead of whiskey tasting. Very few apartments are actually furnished in this “country style” featured in the magazines. My home village isn’t shooting location for documentaries about gentrification. Maybe a camera team will get lost in one of our many hamlets at a Saumagen-centered village festival. But that would be pretty rare.
Drowsy villages provide the perfect backdrop while growing up. An ideal, idyllic world. But the older I got, the more I was drawn to the big city. I longed for a place that was more vibrant than the Palatinate and which could offer me more adventures and opportunities on the way to adulthood. Precisely this big, wide world I longed for. And I today I indeed enjoy its advantages. Whenever I drive home today, I have a feeling that two worlds that don't really have much to do with each other are colliding.
Shortly after attending my first Fridays for Future rallies, I paid another visit to my old homeland – these are becoming less and less frequent. When I enthusiastically told my acquaintances there about my experiences at the recent "Fridays for Future" demonstrations, I quickly realized how little they were interested. Out of pure friendship and politeness, they listened to me with half an ear.
I was quite surprised by that. What was the most hotly debated topic of recent weeks in my university town was met with absolute indifference among my old school friends here. They were more interested in the last day of the Bundesliga match or their last Tinder date than in the great climate revolution.
To be honest, I was initially disappointed and then increasingly angry at this lack of interest. While we young people in the big cities are trying to save our planet, the people in my home village are letting us down, I thought. Don't they understand that they too only have one planet at their disposal, just like us from "Fridays for Future"? Luckily, out of politeness, I kept those thoughts to myself.
In the days that followed, I started hearing disparaging comments about Fridays for Future with increasing frequency. In the eyes of my old friends, the movement was an "eco-sect", the self-promotion of big-city, left-wing weirdos. Someone called Greta Thunberg a "deranged menace". In addition to insults, they appeared to become increasingly bothered by the patronizing demeanor of many Fridays for Future protesters, who seem to perceive ICE-car drivers and meat eaters as second-class citizens.
The more often this happened, the deeper the wedge was driven between my current city life and my origins in my home village in the Palatinate. Between my old and my new world. For the first time in my life, I was just happy when I was able to drive back to the big city: finally the ideal world again, even if it was on the verge of collapse.
Ever since that visit, I've been quite hypersensitive whenever my enthusiasm for "Fridays for Future" wasn't shared 100 percent. In my eyes, there were simply only climate heroes on the one hand and climate sinners on the other. The absolute good or absolute bad – and nothing in between! It was only later that I realized how much I was already influenced by the “Fridays for Future” movement.
At first I could only offer my my old acquaintances reproaches. I accused them of being apolitical and uninformed about the world anyway. A mechanism of exclusion that is very common in "Fridays for Future", as I later realized. After all, at university I even mocked my old acquaintances as provincials, something I had always hated myself when my new metropolitan friends teased me about it.
But it was so much easier to just dismiss them as uninformed "provincials" than to argue with them and take them seriously. I didn't ask why my friends from my old home country saw "Fridays for Future" as arrogant or aloof, I didn't care at the time. Possible self-doubts could not arise in the first place.
I didn't anticipate, that this would actually fiercely play up in me over the coming weeks! I thought more and more about the experiences in my home country. It just wouldn't let me go. Where does the rejection of “Fridays for Future” come from, I asked myself. Where does the indifference in the face of urgent global climate problems come from? How could it be that my friends didn't see those and that they didn't comprehend the seriousness of the situation? I looked for answers but couldn't find any.
For several weeks, every Friday, there was no longer any plastic dishware in the university cafeteria. This gesture, following the "Fridays for Future" demonstrations, was intended to set an example for environmental protection. What should have caused storms of enthusiasm in theory, however, meant a very special kind of chaos in practice: balancing a piece of raspberry cake on your bare hand without a plate is more difficult than it might sound. Once the first piece of cake hit the floor, a discussion about the plastic boycott quickly broke out in the canteen.
It immediately turned out that the cashiers could only laugh at what they considered to be an idiotic ban on plastic. Their statements shocked many of my fellow students, who are big "FfF" fans. Instead of relaxed humorous small talk, my fellow students reacted with deadly seriousness. In the heat of the moment, the cashiers were even treated with extremely condescending insults. I will never forget how my fellow students lost all human decency that day in the supposed fight for climate protection. For the first time I noticed how fanatical and arrogant many of my "FfF" acquaintances had long since become.
After that event, something actually changed in me. But I didn't want to admit it to myself at first. But the more often I demonstrated at "Fridays for Future", the more alien the movement became to me. Today I know: It took an event like the one in the university canteen or a stay in my old home country to open my eyes and to realize how important sincerely attempting to understand other realms of experience before applying crude labels to people. Due to its exclusionary megalomania, “Fridays for Future” is incapable of this realization. But only a person who approaches other people, takes them seriously and wants to understand their everyday lives will be listened to. Only those people can actually affect something. They might even, in the best case scenario, save our planet!
While "Fridays for Future" was unable to make inroads my home village’s community, the media was showed more interest. Interviews with activists became more and more frequent on television. The talk shows couldn't get enough of them. "Markus Lanz", "Anne Will" or "Hart aber Fair": All of them had at least one "FfF" activist to visit. The more I saw them there, the more their arrogant demeanor bothered me. I suddenly switched off people who I still saw as inspiring personalities a few months ago. They kept raising their index fingers admonishingly. Looking down from the ivory tower at anyone who disagreed.
That finger wagging was slowly but surely becoming the hallmark of the movement. Their image of the enemy was crystal clear. Their worldview is dangerously one-dimensional. My big city friends suddenly fought everyone they saw as complicit in the misery of the world: the meat eaters, the plastic bag carriers, the ICE-car drivers, the short-haul fliers, the long-haul fliers, the cruise tourists, the farmers, and of course the evil SUV owners. But honestly, don't we all belong to one of these groups from time to time?
Once they suddenly started cursing anyone who accidentally commits a tiny climate sin, even if it's just incorrect sorting of trash, I felt like they were in the ultimate battle against the rest of humanity. Elitist hubris everywhere I looked. In their moral arrogance they were (and still are) completely unaware of how many "normal" people they alienated by doing so. My assessment that "Fridays for Future" is primarily a movement of socially privileged young people has now been backed up by corresponding figures. The Berlin “Institute for Protest and Movement Research” got to the bottom of the social composition of the climate movement. On March 15, 2019, it surveyed “Fridays for Future” protesters at rallies in Berlin and Bremen. The study was financed by the Bündnis 90/Die Grünen-affiliated "Heinrich Böll Foundation".
The study’s results were illuminating: More than 90 percent of those surveyed stated that they had at least completed their Abitur (or advanced technical college entrance qualification) or were currently striving to do so. An overwhelming majority of 90 percent! Not even 1 percent of the demonstrators attended secondary schools [which prepare pupils for non-academic vocational training]. Almost two-thirds of the students considered themselves to be in the upper-middle class. Even before that, I had no doubt that "Fridays for Future" is a movement of the affluent. But what I read in this study surpassed my guesses. "Fridays for Future" does not even begin to embody the cross-section of society, as has often been claimed.
I was surprised how little the sobering result of the study was then discussed. Society had to be informed about the privileged background and the resulting aloofness of the young protesters. Doesn't this change the entire perspective on the defining social debate of the last few months?
The figureheads of the movement in particular all come from the “most bourgeois” background. For example, we have Luisa Neubauer, the best-known German "Fridays for Future" activist. She grew up in the relatively expensive Elbe suburb of Iserbrook in Hamburg. Everyone in Hamburg knows: Not exactly a residential area that is known for its social housing. She did her Abitur in Hamburg-Blankenese. It is Hamburg's villa district par excellence. Sightseeing buses now offer tours through the district to present the magnificent villas to curious tourists. She is a scholarship holder of the party-affiliated foundation Bündnis 90/Die Grünen and is also a member of the party. So nothing stands in the way of a career in politics, she says so herself. "I don't want to rule out a career in politics," she told Zeit Campus, for example. [Neubauer is, in fact, a scion of the oligarchical Reemtsma clan; so is her cousin, another figurehead of the movement]
It’s less a rebellion from below and more a case of perfect self-marketing. But now cracks do appear in this underdog stage production. Today Luisa Neubauer can only be reached via her management. Demonstrators as pop stars! And of course you can't just talk to them on the street when you're demonstrating together. At least not with “Fridays for Future”. Please, what a naive notion! Although there are also critics of the excessive portrayal of people within the "Fridays for Future" movement, there is no real change in sight.
In the meantime, the climate movement has become one thing in particular: a career springboard for ambitious young elites. "Fridays for Future" is the perfect stage to make a name for yourself. Many of the educated offspring of academics are of course aware of this. The more media attention, the more attractive it is to be in the front row. Supposedly idealistic activism can now be marketed very well.
But not only the figureheads like Luisa Neubauer want to get some of the public spotlight. More and more "Neubauer disciples" are trying their luck in the "Fridays for Future" profiling machine. There we have, to name just a few examples, Linus Steinmetz, Carla Reemtsma or Sebastian Grieme.
Getting an appearance on a talk show or at least being able to read your name in the newspaper - all of this can become an opportunity of a lifetime. Being in the front row not only feels incredibly good, it is also a kind of free ticket for later professional life. And as if that wasn't enough: A flood of new Instagram followers is of course also a fantastic side effect. With this in mind: full speed ahead!
Who could object? Everyone is looking for recognition. Doesn't everyone want to take advantage of the opportunities in their life? And finally, every society needs ambitious young people who will later enrich politics, business and culture.
At best, people who want to be the center of attention also bear responsibility for themselves and others. So far no problem, you might think at first.
But how will many people with limited financial resources feel when those rebels who constantly lash out at the lifestyles of others take advantage of it for themselves? While many citizens have to accept new climate costs in their everyday lives, they also experience how Luisa Neubauer is offered a position on the supervisory board at Siemens. In view of this, the suspicion of many people that climate activists are making careers at the expense of other citizens is all too understandable.
I have other concerns as well. In our time, the frustration with the elites is growing. The "enraged citizen phenomenon" has become one of the most discussed topics of this decade. Intellectuals around the world are concerned about the cause of this worrying development. Our society is currently experiencing a "rift" between two major population groups. In an anthology they edited, the political and social scientists Wolfgang Merkel, Ruud Koopmans and Michael Zürn differentiate between “cosmopolitans” and “communitarians”.
There are those who benefit from the future and are therefore relaxed about it. Above all, they see opportunities in it and view the globalization of our world with optimism. This group is referred to as cosmopolitans. But many people are also afraid of change. They believe that the future will not hold anything good and, potentially, only the ever-possible economic decline. Given the "opening" of the world, communitarians see the dangers in particular. They often have the feeling that they are not really noticed by society's elite.
The well-known distinction between “anywheres” and “somewheres” by the British journalist and author David Goodhart supports this finding. Goodhart distinguishes "anywheres" who are educated, wealthy and will feel at home in their circles around the world, and "somewheres". They belong to completely different social milieus and are relegated to a specific place where they work, live, have their friends and struggle to assert their status.
Most "Fridays for Future" activists know: the future belongs to them. Many have the classic biography of a cosmopolitan. Because of their social background, they were born with everything they needed to benefit from our system. Everything is just right: the appearance, the social environment and of course the education.
Although they face the end of the world as a constant threat, their future does not scare them. Why? The doors are wide open for them. They master the complicated rules of our individualized knowledge society very well. You will do your internship in Brussels and not in Bottrop. Better the EU Commission than retail, a sector without future anyway. And also: cultivate connections! Your English vocabulary is usually larger than German. Perfectly prepared for the future, come what may - because they are the elite of tomorrow. The dangerous thing about it: most of the demonstrators are not even aware of this.
The well-trained "Fridays for Future" activists prefer to see themselves as misunderstood outsiders in society. Being an outsider is what makes rebellion sexy. At the same time I say to myself: What must a socially disadvantaged person think when suddenly wealthy cosmopolitans like to play the role of the outsider! And they don't just like it the role. No, they are really putting effort into staging it.
The classic distribution of roles between "perpetrator" and "victim" in the social context is thus turned upside down in a negligent manner: no longer the single mother and multi-jobber is seen as a victim of the existing social conditions, but the climate-conscious scholarship holder who has to experience how the consumption of affordable meat endangers our environment.
But that's not all: instead of listening to the concerns of hard-working people, they blame them for their environmentally unfriendly diesel car, which they need for their daily commute to work.
Instead of considering questions of justice with "Fridays for Future", the movement reduced itself from the start to questions of lifestyle. In my circle of friends, too, the extinction of species is simply cooler than poverty in old age and the issue of gender is hipper than low basic pension.
Above all, the privileged know the social code of the new “morally good” life. The new green-bourgeois bearing regulates the friend-foe scheme of the climate debate. A mechanism of exclusion that often pushes fellow citizens who are already worse off even further aside. A good person has long been only someone who can show an ecologically sound certificate of good conduct. The existential feeling of many that they just have to somehow make ends meet does not exist in the living environment of the (upper) bourgeois offspring. In the climate debate of the last few months, worlds have collided that couldn't be more different. Worlds that are moving further and further apart.
----------------------------------
[The author doesn’t mention it, but the social milieu that makes up the bulk of the climate movement is also very fond of importing Anglo-inspired race discourse. Towards the end of its decline, they were increasingly caught in purity spirals. For example: should white musicians with dreadlocks be allowed to play during happenings?
The study from “Institute for Protest and Movement Research” also examined ethnicity of the protesters: they are predominantly of ethnic German stock, much more so than the average German citizen. Who could have known?]

These are some dlc ideas I made for FCND
DLC ideas-https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Mi2x7Pq-nVRuPnU-QYldx8DRde2cEoysnVlD2nZxW8Y/edit
YT link-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DI_bGinsYpY

Hello, everyone. I am currently trying to write a 6 week program for soccer during the off-season, and am wondering how y’all are writing your programs. I am an intern with my school, and am just writing programs to better my knowledge and challenge myself.
My program right now is a Canadian Ascending-Descending program that involves lifts on Monday and Friday, and conditioning for both aerobic and anaerobic capacity on Wednesday.
Let me know if you have any pointers or would like to see what I have so far.

Last year my ex husband kicked me out after physically assaulting me, I left with my 6 year old daughter and 4 month old son, I had no source of income and had just started a business, I was broke, I was devastated I was a single mom I was crying everyday
Fast forward 7 months My company has gone from employing 1 person to employing 150 people, I have won government tenders, I work with big private companies, I am now a multi millionaire, I have accepted that I was not the problem , he was a very twisted human being
So far I heard his house that he kicked me out of , he can’t even pay the mortgage, the money for the club girls is finished, he can’t afford to pay the child support he used to taunt me about, I do feel sorry for him along the way, but then I remember my daughter ,s cries as he attacked me, how small my son was to get on the plane, how he made my mom cry , how he spread lies about me to our families, karma shud just finish him off
My next steps are to get a mommy makeover, take more care of myself and not be so afraid to make things about me, , travel with the kids, maybe seriously date and buy myself a very nice car
Thank you 🙏

Hello there! Hope you are having wonderful morning/afternoon/evening so far! Let's have some nice conversation to end our weekend with, should we!
I would like to meet new people here, both for the new friendships and potential relationship if it clicks and we vibe together!
About me: I'm 27 years old/M/single based in Central Europe, 185cm(6"1ft) tall, brown hair, brown eyes. Working in finance as an accountant. Love doing sports, starting with football, volleyball, golf.. cooking(do you enjoy learning new stuff to cook, we can learn together!), travelling, watching movies, listening to music, going to the gym! We can talk about our hobbies in detail here, I would like to know about yours as well! I would consider myself positive, supportive, romantic, protective and loyal kind of a guy, loyalty means everything to me. Also to note, I'm an animal person, have one cat myself!
Something about you: I'm looking for someone who is genuine, respectful, loyal. It would be nice to have someone with similar hobbies but not neccesary. Someone who is able to hold conversation, who enjoys being given attention and being checked on during the day. Location not important as if it clicks, I'm willing to make things work and possibly relocate.
Did I catch your interest and maybe do you enjoy good morning/night messages? Let me know, it will be my pleasure to get to know you!
PS. I don't mind staying up later if there is someone nice to talk to

Average the numerator and the denominator of 7/5 and 10/7, the simplest "tritone" and its inverse, separately. You get the simplest interval between these 2, which is 17/12. Repeat the process. The next interval we get is 17 + 24 / 12 + 17 = 41/29.
The prime limits of the interval pairs are 7, 17 and 41. Lets compute a few more prime limits. It is getting a little hard, so i created a formula to iterate the process easier. You just input the numerator for n and the denominator for d and then type the result into xen-calc to make it spit out the prime factorization for the interval and find the biggest prime.
The ratios are: 7/5, 17/12, 41/29, 99/70, 239/169, 577/408.
The prime limits are: 7, 17, 41, 11, 13, 577
The "unprimed" prime limits are: 4, 7, 13, 5, 6, 106
It´s an interesting pattern. I created a sequence for it/(D%2B_N),_starting_with_N%3D7_and_D%3D_5) in OEIS 2.0

I (28f) have a narc grandma who was my actual best friend for years and years. I cannot emphasize how close we were. We went shopping, went to movies, went to restaurants, saw plays, cooked together, played cards, and she taught me how to read tarot and make coffee, both of which I do for a living now.
But she’s an alcoholic. She drinks at least a bottle of wine per night, even though she is a type 2 diabetic—she has switched doctors because they told her to stop drinking. And while I never had a physical dependency on alcohol, I certainly had a drinking problem when we were close (sober 3 years now). We both have BPD, but she doesn’t believe the diagnosis is accurate, while I take a high dose of mood stabilizers to manage mine.
Which brings us to the reason I went NC. I went on antidepressants, mood stabilizers, and I finally got diagnosed and medicated for ADHD at age 25. My grandma is STAUNCHLY against medication, even her diabetes meds (she takes them, but “resents the fact that she is dependent on a medication” at all.
This all happened just a few weeks after I gave up alcohol. As the meds kicked in, I started setting boundaries and saying things like “you’re hurting my feelings, please stop”, when her “teasing” went too far (which it often did). Being asked to stop was received with anger and defensiveness, and we grew pretty distant as a result, even though I lived with her at the time.
The last conversation we had before I went NC was a big fight, and she made a comment about me going on medication. I said something to the effect of “can’t you see that I’m happy now, and that I finally like myself?” And she responded with “well I don’t like you like this. You talk back to me too much.”
This really crushed me. She doesn’t know this, but at the time I went on meds, I actively had a plan for ending my life. The only thing holding me back was not wanting her to be traumatized by finding me.
She later went on to write a letter to my psychiatrist (I have no idea how she got her contact info btw), telling her that my meds gave me a “rage problem” and encouraging her to take me off of them. My psychiatrist immediately saw this as a red flag and directly asked me if she was one of the narcissistic family members I’d mentioned. That is what made me send her a “you crossed the line, and I can’t talk to you anymore, I feel unsafe having you in my life and I feel betrayed by someone I thought I could trust” etc. message, and hit “block”.
Now she’s moving out of the house she’s owned since the 1970s. I have a lot of things in her attic storage that I’m just flat-out not ok with losing, like gifts from my late father and mementos from stages in my life that I want to keep for the memories associated. My sister (24f) told me that if I want that stuff back, I better not put it off too long.
I’ve had an anxiety stomachache since she told me. I have no idea how to approach her. I gave her an opportunity to apologize two years ago, and her apology was “I’m sorry for interfering with your life.” She then blatantly refused to actually address any of the issues I wanted to discuss. She also has called me the wrong name (I’m cis, but I just hate my birth name and changed it years ago) via birthday/Christmas cards delivered through my teenage cousin, who, apparently, had tried to tell her that it’s really rude to call me by my old name, but to no avail. OH, ALSO she frequently deadnames my trans relative when he’s not around, which started shortly before the above-described events, as he came out to her a little later than the rest of us.
Wtf do I do. I have no idea what it’s gonna be like, if she’ll be angry or act victimized by my NC, or possibly just treat me with a Customer Service voice and personality—and I’m honestly not sure which would hurt most. We were so tight, I feel like I will cry as soon as I see her. I also know that she makes me feel terrible about myself, disrespects my boundaries, and blatantly told me that she liked me better when I was depressed. Idk what to do and I’m stressing. Any advice appreciated, including bad advice as a jumping-off point.

I think like most of you, I’ve browsed R4R before. I’ve met some amazing people. And that inevitability of time, differences of character, and distance gets the best of the both of us and we sort of drift apart. Some friendships I just flat out get ghosted. Or you just simply don’t mesh.. The sad reality is that is the new norm with meeting friends online these days. I’m here to search for something solid and in turn provide an old school type of friendship for any woman who is looking for the same thing.
A little about myself. I’m 32 Blk M from Illinois. I’m about 6’4 tall. I am a type of guy who likes to see who I am talking to before getting deep into a convo, so I hope that you are as open to sharing selfies as I am. I also don’t mind an occasional selfies throughout the texting convo. I am in school part time majoring I’m computer information tech (IT). I just landed a job as a Jr. System Admin. I enjoy cooking, gaming, bowling, puzzles (Rubix and other mechanical puzzles). I have a love for music, but not going to lie, I could branch out from my very small bubble of music I’ve been stuck with for years now. So please if you have music suggestions, I’m all ears. I like watching movies, I’m also open to watching your favorite movies as well. Tell me a little about yourself? More importantly, what about my profile attracted you to it? That always seems to interest me the most to get the convo going.
I also do have an interest in helping someone reach their goal by way of being their accountability partner. If you have a weight related goal or a fitness related goal and you’re serious about conquering them, I’ll gladly be of some assistance. I’m no personal trainer but I do possess some knowledge about health and fitness. In by me helping you reach your goal it will in turn motivate me to help me reach mine.
If you have made it this far, what I am looking for in a friendship is something genuine. I also, like I said before, love phots, doesn’t have to be about you, could be about your outfit, what you’re eating, your pets, a random leaf. The engagement in the conversation is what I’m interested in. And also, I don’t need a DAILY friend, it can be that if you wish. I just am looking for a consistent friendship I can count on to talk to in a regular basis.
Well that basically it about me. Send me a chat, tell me a little about yourself

I don't have the background to Pakistani Politics but have been watching from afar. It seems like with Pakistani Politics, as with other countries, a "fact" gets thrown out, that was never validated, and then it becomes happen stance. A few questions if you will - I would like as evidence based answers as possible:
1.) Was Imran Khan inept at handling the economy?; Imran Khan was in power from 2018 to 2022; 2018 the GDP growth rate was 6.5% (what he inherited) - in 2019 (before corona) it plummeted to 2.5% - thats pretty bad. 2020, corona happened, 2021 still corona; 2022 that he touts - was the same from most of the world, not sure he can take credit for it. I mean it makes sense that he is inept at running a economy; he never has although he has good morales and ideals. What was the cause of the 2019 slowdown in GDP growth? Is Imran Khan capable of running the economy? Again I know he touts alot of figures, namely the 6.5% growth but that was AFTER covid, most numbers under his economy were actually not great - but also know it takes time to get things on track. Just curious about what others have to say based with fact.
2.) When Imran Khan accused the US of overthrowing him; he didn't provide evidence (the cypher he referenced) was not evidence if no one can review it and the national security council didn't object to it. I noticed he doesnt have all the answers so he just says what his best guess is. Like when he accused the US. To me, it seems far more likley its just the current government attacking him then the military. Why are people blaming the military? I know thats the prevailing sentiment, but there is no evidence. It makes way more sense for the current government to be the ones doing this; so why flack for the military? What evidence is there that the military wants to overthrow Imran Khan and why?
3.) I looked up the organization for the military and see there is one head, and then 5 corp commanders; who actually runs the military; is it just the army head Asim Munir?
4.) Could it be possible for the military to save Imran Khan and the democratic system? If its actually the government that is the cause of the crackdown of PTI and incarceration of Imran Khan, is it actually possible that the army could step in and force elections. Why wouldn't they want Imran Khan to come to power?

Hey all,
I’m trying to learn how to Meta my own variations of decks. This is for Standard BO1, I have a 2 year old and rarely have time to get a full Bo3 at any one time.
Played about 20 games so far and around 55-60% win rate (going first more like 75%)
This deck is Blue/Black, originally I built it to be a Mill deck, powered by Jace/Sheoldred. As I’ve been tweaking it, it has turned almost into a part: Legends/Control/Reanimator.
A surprisingly fun Curve Play has been 3 - Jace 4 - Sheoldred 5 - [[Invasion of Amonkhet]]
Struggles: Like any slow deck, struggles to match up to mono-red and is surprisingly helpless against Selensya Enchantments with a strong control arm/draw (Ossification and Seal ravage my plainswalkers
Would love any critiques/feedback/ideas. I’ve been tinkering with Sheoldred and other draw/control spells too .
Deck
_______ Creatures/Plainswalkers
4 Jace, the Perfected Mind
4 Sheoldred, the Apocalypse
3 Rona, Herald of Invasion
_______ Spells and Battles
4 Consider
4 Make Disappear
3 Sheoldred's Edict
3 Breach the Multiverse
4 Invasion of Amonkhet
2 Cut Down
2 Moment of Truth
3 The Cruelty of Gix
________Land
3 Takenuma, Abandoned Mire
2 Otawara, Soaring City
2 Shipwreck Marsh
5 Island
6 Swamp
2 Underground River
4 Darkslick Shores
Thanks

--- Table of Contents ---
--- Part 1/2 ---
When Shon woke again, it was to be told he'd slept, not only the rest of the day and night of the incident, but the entire day after as well. Despite the Cleric assuring Shon that this was normal, he still had Shon eat breakfast in the infirmary while the Squires attended their morning lessons. He'd slept through drills, breakfast, and prayer.
The Cleric kept the curtains drawn over the window, though Shon's head wasn't pounding anymore, and had added a second set of standing curtains around the girl's bed. Shon's eyes flicked in her direction with every alternate bite he managed to force down, but there was no movement beyond the white cloth.
Master Daunas came in shortly before tenth bell and armor practice to inform Shon that he was to take the day off to rest but could rejoin the others in training the following day. He was at least allowed to leave the infirmary, though he waited until he could hear sparring outside before he did. He didn't want to run into any of the Squires.
As he opened the door to leave something flew by the window, catching Shon's attention enough to make him stop and look over. But it was already long gone. Just a bird... Assuming he hadn't imagined it. He shook his head, still aching all over. His mind swam with worries and memories, made worse by the fact that the Cleric was trying to hide shivers now that Shon was fully rested. He'd probably just imagined it...
Back in his room Shon huddled over his journal. He could still smell the smoke in his hair and had decided it would be best to shower soon, but finally alone, his thoughts and memories could no longer be ignored.
So he drew. He tried to start safe. Nangran atop his borrowed horse; Ivelm mostly naked and shaking a club in his doorway; the Archmage's workroom lined in shelves filled with magical components. That one had taken a while. But as he released these images onto the page, others forced themselves forward. Smoke billowing over treetops; a burning tower; charred bodies; and a girl reaching out through the flames. A girl lying asleep in the bed next to his. The stillness of the picture made her look dead.
He dropped his pencil, letting it roll right off the desk. Crossing his arms over the book, he rested his head on his desk. The wood felt warm compared to his skin, comforting. What more could he have done? What could a Paladin have done? Or Master Veon-Zih? Shon saw again the bodies and shivered.
No one could save everyone. To think otherwise was pure arrogance. But knowing the facts and feeling them were two very different things. The tower wasn’t that far from Hamerfoss. Shouldn’t they have known something was going on? Shouldn’t they have been able to do something sooner? Years sooner? Long before the fire killed those people?
A loud tapping startled him awake. When had he fallen asleep? Shon searched his room in confusion, trying to piece together his dream and what had awoken him. He'd been in the Temple chapel, but as he'd walked down the middle aisle, the pews had started to decay, the stone walls crumbling. Small plants, then trees began to sprout from the ground, overgrowing the once-holy place now in ruin. Shon pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes, trying to remember what had come next... A man with white hair pulled back in a ponytail had been standing at the head altar... something with leathery wings on his shoulder...
The painful screech of something sharp on glass had Shon jumping up, his chair falling to clatter on the ground behind him. He looked to his window but saw only orange sky beyond. Was the sun already setting? He knelt on the mattress and looked out the window, unsure what he expected to see. He was on the third floor, but that was definitely where the sound had come from, and the window was the only glass in the room.
Nothing but open sky.
He opened the tiny window, the pane swinging up and letting in cold and refreshing air that helped clear his mind. Master Daunas's voice bellowed orders from the courtyard below, and Shon stuck his head out to look down and see his fellows working through their dagger forms. He'd slept through lunch and afternoon lessons. And he still needed a shower.
If he hurried, he would be able to shower before the others finished their lesson. Shon left the window open and even opened his door before he remembered to grab a fresh uniform. Obviously, he still wasn't thinking clearly.
The halls were blissfully empty, and Shon could almost pretend that even if he did pass someone, their breath wouldn't show in the air. It was a short-lived fantasy, however. He managed to make it all the way to the showers, but when he opened the door a voice called, "Squire! Why aren't you... Oh..." Shon performed a sharp about face to stand at attention before the Major General.
"At ease, Squire Shon," Selibra sighed, waving him down, "Did you get enough rest?"
"Yes, Sir," Shon answered but then caught movement out of the corner of his eye, again. He hadn't managed to turn his head far enough to see before the Major General started speaking. Shon snapped his head back to give the officer his undivided attention.
"You did well, Squire. Smith Nangran told us what happened at the tower." Sir Selibra managed a strained smile that faded quickly, "If you want to talk about what you saw there... any one of us will be more than willing to listen. You shouldn't have had to experience death so soon." an image of an arm pulling away from a charred corpse flashed in Shon's vision.
Shon swallowed down the accompanying nausea at the memory and managed a nod, adding a quiet "Thank you, Sir." for good measure.
Feeling the need to scrub even more than before, Shon was grateful when the Major General left, allowing him to enter the still-open room. The shower was only mildly comforting, however. What should have been scalding water felt merely lukewarm now, the mist billowing off his truly icy skin thick enough that he could barely see the spigots. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed and tried to imagine the images flowing off of him with the filth...
Something chirped, and Shon slammed the water off. Just the pipes creaking... How much longer would he have to rest before his mind stopped playing tricks on him? But as he moved for his towel, Shon stopped in shock, his new uniform had been scattered around the benches and floor.
He hadn't heard the door open, but had heard the pipes creaking? But who here would even do something like this? Shon started to search the showers, but as he did, he heard something else—voices in the hall. The Squires were done with their practice. He still didn't want to see them and dressed quickly, rushing from the shower and slamming the door behind him.
Something thumped into the door from the other side. Shon held his breath and turned slowly. It was his imagination. It had to be. He reached for the handle again and, standing behind the swing, opened the shower slowly.
"He's been gone three days... Do you think they sent him away?" Thom's voice sounded from around a corner, and Shon jumped in surprise, pulling the door open fully as if he could hide behind it.
"No way. he's the best Squire we have, so what if he's a Sorcerer." They were talking about him... Shon definitely didn't want to see them yet. He dashed down the opposite way, taking a long way around through the Paladin's barracks and back to his room. Or that's what he'd planned before he remembered the Squires hall would be full of people now taking their break and trying to get into the shower before everyone else. His feet faltered, and he turned away again, to one of the hardly used stairs that would take him down to the rest of the fortress.
Barred from his room, Shon made his way to the place he associated the most with comfort, the chapel. It wasn't empty, three Paladins knelt in prayer near the front, but it didn't matter anymore. He felt a wash of calm as he entered the incense-filled room, the sweet-smelling smoke finally banishing the stench of burning hair from his memory.
Shon took a spot near the back, kneeling to pray as he stared up at the statue of Hengist behind the altar. He was dressed in full plate mail, his arm raised in triumph, holding his mighty sword, Darkspliter.
Shon sighed and felt himself smile for what felt like the first time in a very long time. He could tell Hengist anything and everything, and none of it out loud... But then his smile faded. What would he say...?
I'm sorry. I feel like I've been lying to everyone, to you. I've known there was something different about me, something wrong with me. That's why no one likes to touch me, why everyone pulls away at the feel of my skin, like it's somehow dirty or painful. I should've realized... Should have known...
But I worked so hard... You know that, don't you? And I'm not ready to give up. I'll do whatever it takes, atone anyway I can if you just tell me how. The Major General said something about it being a sign. I want to believe he meant the unlikely convenience of Smith Nangran knowing an Archmage who could make an item so I won't have to get the tattoo. Thank you. I just hope I don't disappoint after getting a second chance...
The bell for dinner sounded. Feeling better, Shon considered going with the Paladins as they left the chapel. Until one of them shivered as they passed. "Winters right around the corner," another muttered.
"We'll need to install the heating orbs soon." the last answered before the door closed... He wasn't hungry anyway.
Please, Hengist. Don't let me hurt anyone else. Kefir was trying to help me, and I answered that kindness with pain. What if the healers hadn't gotten to him in time? Would I have smothered him in ice? Please, I'll give up everything if it means that will never happen again...
But he didn't want to give up anything. He wanted to fight, to reach his highest potential, and lead a life of meaning. He thought of Master Veon-Zih. The Monk had told him that he didn't need to be a Paladin to fight for justice, and he was living proof of that. But...
I don't want to be alone... At first, I thought I just wanted you, a god, as a guiding light in my life. But now I realize that being a Paladin gives me even more than that. It gives me brothers and friends, and I don't want to lose them either. But I especially don't want to hurt them.
Shon clenched his hands tighter, as tight as he could, digging his fingers into the spaces between his knuckles; as if external pain might dull internal strife...
They say I'm scary... And I know they aren't really joking. I can see it in their eyes and hear it in their nervous laughs when they try and make it a joke. But they only mean when they fight me... don't they? And I'll never try to hurt them. It's only sparring... they know that... don't they?
He squeezed his eyes tighter shut,
But what about now? Will they be even more afraid? Even when we aren't sparring? Can I blame them if they are?
He actually found himself waiting for an answer... Of course, none came. He wasn't a Paladin yet, and wouldn't be able to feel the god until he swore his Oath and took a piece of Hengist into himself. For now, Shon took in a deep breath, as deep as he could, then let it out slowly, relaxing his hands and face as he attempted to release his anxieties unto his god.
I won't give up. I'll fight this danger within me as hard as I will fight any threat without. I ask for your help with this. Please don't give up on me yet. I'll prove I'm worthy, I swear.
The bell ending dinner and starting study time sounded. Shon stayed in the chapel until a handful of Squires came in to pray themselves. They hesitated by the door, but Shon didn't look at them. He knew he couldn't hide forever. But he also wasn't sure what he should say to any of them. Or if he should say anything at all. Shon waited until they moved away from the door to finally stand. If he had to face any of them, he wanted it to be the ones he considered friends first.
Shon left the chapel and made his way to the library, fighting the urge to just go back to his room. Heads swiveled in his direction the moment he opened the library door. Shon flinched, sucking in a sharp breath and holding it, pulling his energy in as best he could.
He stepped in, and the Squires exchanged looks, but then the Paladin on library duty coughed, and they quickly went back to reading.
His typical spot was available as usual, so Shon made his way there. The others would want to talk after... and if not, he would just go back to his room. Distracted by his continued worries -and the silent effort to hold his energy in- Shon still heard when something behind him hissed along the stone.
He spun quickly, scanning the floor. This time he definitely wasn't imagining it...
"Squire Shon... Shouldn't you be resting?" He turned back to find the Squires trying to make it seem like they weren't staring at him, while the Paladin who called looked openly concerned.
Shon's cheeks flushed, now feeling cool rather than warm. Another change... He cleared his throat, "No, Sir..." and when the Paladin's worried expression didn't let up, Shon added, "I've been resting all day."
"Three days..." Zihler muttered.
Shon met his eyes and the Squire smiled, but Shon couldn't tell if the expression seemed strained or not. He nodded anyway, taking his seat alone at the table by the window.
Books on their current subject of study were already laid out, and he pulled one forward, opening it without checking the title. As he read, he could hear the others occasionally whisper and even caught snippets of what they were saying,
"I found another one. Do you think this will be enough?" Thom asked.
"We have the rest of the hour; we should find all we can," Rerves answered. It didn't sound like they were studying, but Shon had missed three days of lessons; maybe they were working on an assignment... He went back to his reading. He would get any missed work tomorrow.
When the bell rang that would finally begin their last hour of free time, Shon closed his book. It would be best to just go to bed early; everyone seemed to think he should be resting anyway; they could talk after he got the sealing item... But he hadn't stood yet when his six closest friends jumped up, books in hand, and crowded around him, preventing him from leaving. From running away.
"We're glad you're okay." Rehlien blurted out.
"The Major General told us what happened," Baradin added.
Shon looked from him to Kefir and took in a sharp breath, "I'm..." he started to apologize, but Kefir interrupted with a broad smile,
"I'm fine. I even got a day off for it. I didn't need it though, they healed me up right away."
Rerves placed his book down on Shon's table, "It was just really surprising, you know? But hey! Now we know why you're so cold all the time."
Shon looked down at the massive tome on the table, not wanting to meet their eyes. He didn't know what to make of what they were saying. There was no way it was okay. How could they be alright with a dangerous magic user that could kill them all on accident...
"We found these. We thought they might make you feel a little better," Thom whispered, stacking his book on top of Rerves' and opening it to a page he'd marked with a ripped piece of scrap paper. It wasn't a textbook, it was a record book. Shon furrowed his brows down at the page, reading 'Sir Patrich, served 4876-4929, died 4955. Paladin of Hengist, General. Air Sorcerer...'
Shon looked up to find them all smiling down at him. Zihler set his book down over Thom's, opened to another personal record, "This one was a fire Sorcerer, and they're supposed to be the most destructive."
Rehlien took Baradin and Kefir's books and stacked them with his own beside the open records. He ran his fingers over the slew of bookmarks sticking out of the closed pages, "All Sorcerers and Paladins." Rehlien said.
"Master Daunas said you would be back in a few days, but just in case we wanted to find these for you," Thom explained in a rush, "You know... in case the officers or Mages needed to be convinced..."
Baradin cleared his throat before he spoke, clasping his hands behind his back, "We haven't found any ice Sorcerers yet, but they're also the rarest, so that really shouldn't be surprising."
"Yeah, and there are plenty of fire who are crazy dangerous even when they're trained," Kefir added quickly.
Shon could feel a burning in his eyes and blinked furiously, looking away from his friends. He wouldn't cry.. he wouldn't. "Thank you..." he managed to croak out, finally giving in and rubbing his eyes. None of them commented on his show of emotion, or the frost clouding his window.
Rerves took the seat across from him with a smile, "So, what type of familiar do you think you'll get?"
Shon managed to stop blinking enough to arch an eyebrow. Hadn't Ivelm said something about a familiar too?
"I bet you it'll be something really lame." Zihler laughed, "To balance Shon's badassness."
"Squire!" the Paladin librarian barked, "Pushups! Now!"
Zihler groaned, mumbling as he stepped back to perform the punishment, "How do they always do that?"
"Divine hearing," Rehlien snickered as Zihler started the pushups, "Probably only works for curses, though."
"You can join him," the Paladin called without looking up from his book, and Rehlien groaned, dropping down next to Zihler.
"Seriously though," Rerves said, ignoring the boys huffing and puffing through their punishment, "Familiars are animals, they're supposed to be even closer to their Sorcerer than a Paladin and their mount! Like an extension of yourself. You can see through their eyes and talk to them with your mind. It's awesome!"
Thom actually blushed, confessing, "We read up on it a bit over the last two days..."
They knew more about what he was than he did. Shon actually smiled, starting, "I don't..." but chittering, like a particularly loud squirrel, interrupted him. The Squires all swiveled their heads to look around, Rehlien and Zihler jumping to their feet with the Paladin, who stood so quickly his chair fell over. The chittering turned to chirping, and then to a purr, as Shon finally found what was making the noise.
On top of the bookshelf closest to the door, sat a tiny dragon.
The size of a large barn cat, its scales were mostly brown but had streaks and blotches of red and orange, like the few deciduous trees that still held their leaves in autumn. Its leathery wings were folded against its back and its front claws grasped the edge of the bookshelf. Its long tail, complete with a scorpion-like stinger, flicked back and forth, its sinuous neck held high as it surveyed the library.
Some of the Squires let slip breaths of wonder, and the little dragon seemed to preen at the attention, holding its head a little higher and purring even louder. The Paladin, however, stepped around his desk and commanded, "Stay back, Squires," before he started chanting. The little dragon tilted its head at the Paladin, as curious as the rest of them. A moment later, the knight's spell washed over them to fill the room, sending a shiver down Shon's spine and making more than one of the other Squires shudder.
The little dragon let out another string of chittering and hissed down at the Paladin, whose eyes went wide as he announced in a breath, "It's real."
"How did it get in?" a senior Squire asked. Shon started to stand but then fell back again as images flooded into his mind. He watched a window opening from outside the fortress, and saw himself lean out. Then the image shifted, and he saw himself digging under his bed for a new uniform and towel as the him that was watching slipped out the door. It shifted again, and he saw himself in the shower, mist billowing off his shoulders before he dug through the piles of clothes left on the bench. It shifted again, and he darted into the library and behind the bookshelf, watching as he, Shon, walked in and sat down at the little table.
Shon blinked and shook his head furiously to try and clear it. All the pictures had flooded in so fast that no one even had time to answer the question or pose their own, "I let it in..." Shon whispered, then looked at the Paladin, explaining quickly, "I didn't mean to. I left my window open to air out my room and..."
"It's okay, Squire," the Paladin was actually smiling, and the little dragon whistled, "They're goodly creatures, though elusive. I've never seen a live one." the dragon leaned forward on the bookshelf, crouching down on its front claws and wiggling its hindquarters before it leaped into the air, opening its wings to spread as wide as it was long. It glided a lap around the library then hovered in front of the Paladin, chittering again and flapping hard enough to blow the man's short hair back before flying right towards the group of Squires around Shon.
It brushed Baradin's head with its claws, the boy ducking as it swooped down to land on Shon's table. The dragon looked from the open books to Shon, then, before Shon could pull back, climbed up his arm and to his shoulder, purring hard enough to vibrate Shon too. It weighed considerably less than it looked like it should, though its claws were sharp enough to pierce through his clothes as it climbed. It brought its face right up to Shon's eye, and though he tried to pull away, it followed him with its long neck, rubbing its cheek along his face. The scales were smooth and lacked temperature, like being touched by a gloved hand. It nuzzled his cheek again, then down his neck and into his shirt.
Surprised, Shon tried to throw the dragon off, but it just dug its claws into his sleeves, chittering angrily then clawing its way around to his back before lifting itself up to drape over his head. "What..." Shon started, but the Paladin cut him off with a laugh.
"I think that answers your friends' questions, Squire."
Shon was too confused to even arch an eyebrow at the man, but Rerves apparently understood what he'd meant because he said, "But I thought only animals could be familiars, like cats and crows and stuff..."
The Paladin nodded but then shrugged, "That's usually the case, but sometimes, rarely, there will be a Sorcerer who gets something a bit more special, like a winged serpent, fairy dragon, or in this case," he nodded at Shon, "A pseudodragon."
The pseudodragon purred, vibrating Shon's head. The Squires all gaped slack-jawed in awe at it, and Shon reached up slowly. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do, pet it? Push it off? But before he'd even touched it, it lifted its head, stretching its long neck out and nuzzling into his hand, obviously not caring that his skin was colder now than it had ever been.
"Damn..." Zihler muttered in obvious disappointment, "I was really hoping it would be a toad so I would have something to make fun of..."
The little dragon's answering twitter almost sounded like a laugh.
***
She groaned, rolling over and nuzzling deeper into Her pillow. Except it didn’t smell like Her pillow. Her eyes flew open, and She sat up. Then fell back down. That was stupid. Ran and Brom had probably taken more blood than usual again… except She couldn’t remember them taking Her for samples. Not for weeks and weeks…
“It’s alright, you’re safe here,” the kindly voice of a man spoke from Her right, and She sat up again, more slowly this time. A stranger in white robes with a sword embroidered on the chest reached out to help Her up, but after touching Her back he pulled sharply away.
She was too confused to apologize for burning him. “Where?” She asked, looking around the room. Like the stranger, it was covered in white. White blankets, white rug, and white curtains hanging to either side of an open window. A window that looked out onto a blue sky. She gasped, scrambling from the bed and nearly tripping over Her white gown. Of course it was white. How in all the hells did they keep it all clean?
She shook Her head and rushed for the window. The man behind Her gasped, his chair scraping loudly as he stood to follow. She pressed Her hands on the cold glass, staring up into the sky, “I’m on an upper floor!?” She grinned excitedly over Her shoulder as the stranger stared at Her, mouth hanging open.
Turning back to the window, She used Her arm to wipe the fog from Her heat off the glass, letting Her gaze trail down. She didn’t see the treetops She expected. Not close anyway. Instead, the forest was beyond a wide clear field, which in turn was beyond a tall stone wall with people dressed in silver walking along its top. She stood on Her toes to look down through the window. Between the wall and Her was a courtyard full of more people swinging things that glinted in the sun.
This wasn’t the tower. None of those people wore robes except the nice stranger. She spun to him, “My treasures, where are they? Brom? Ran? Where…” She saw a flash of red, heard a pained bark, and smelled iron. She fell to Her knees, grasping Her chest and breathing hard, remembering bits and pieces. He killed them. He killed all of them. Then what? She couldn’t remember...
“You are in a training facility of the Temple of Hengist, Hamerfoss, in Clearhelm.” a new voice, deeper, less kind though not cruel, spoke from the doorway. Lifting Her head, She saw the new man wearing a crisp, white, uniform, with a sword hanging comfortably from his belt. Hengist… so that explained all the white.
The kind man in robes had rushed to Her but dared not touch Her. Wise. With Her head spinning so fast, there was no way She was controlling Her heat properly. “How long has she been awake?” the new man asked the kind one.
“She just woke up, Major General,”
“He killed them…” She whispered, squeezing Her eyes shut, pushing back the rage and sorrow, trying to fill in Her memory. What happened next?
“It will be alright. You're safe here,” the kind man said again.
She pulled Her own hair, lacing Her fingers into the golden strands and squeezing. What had happened? She had run down the hall, but how had She gotten out of Her room? There were strangers in Her tower. These men? She glared up at the brown-haired man who looked down at Her, his hands behind his back.
“Who are you? What did you do to the Mages?” She could feel the hair rise on the back of Her neck and a familiar tingling where the collar should be.
The Major General remained calm before Her building fury, saying only, “Calm down.” It was a command backed by magic. She felt the power flow over Her and try to settle on Her mind. She could almost sense the peace it promised but shook Her head, clearing it of the spell.
He could've used his magic to hurt Her. Perhaps not with the collar as the Archmages did, but in other ways. And yet, he hadn’t moved from his spot, his hands still behind his back. She looked again at the sword of Hengist at his side. She'd read all about the gods. Hengist was good and noble, all about self-sacrifice and protecting the weak… A fool, the Mages had said. And yet his Temple ruled this province. The Mages of Her tower would never work with the Temple of Hengist. Or any kingdom order…
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She didn’t need his help to calm down, not when She had something to focus on. She shoved Her grief to the back of Her mind. “How did I get here?” another image flashed in Her mind, fire all around, a white path, blue eyes.
The Paladin didn’t answer right away; instead, he motioned for the robed man - a Cleric? - to bring him a chair. She tilted Her head curiously at him, but he only sat down with a weary sigh, then gestured towards the bed, “Please, have a seat.”
She stood, returning to the bed and eyeing the door over his shoulder. He hadn’t locked it. “We saw smoke from the woods and found you in a burning tower.” the blood drained from Her face, “We have recovered several bodies from around the structure, but there were no other survivors.” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and fixing Her with a piercing stare, “What happened? What was going on in that tower?”
She brought Her feet onto the bed and hugged Her legs tight, “I don’t… I can’t remember…” a fire, the tower burning… But it was made of stone. Her fire couldn’t burn that hot… Could it?
“Sir Selibra,” the kindly Cleric sounded stern, crossing his arms and glaring down at the Paladin, “She has just woken up from what was obviously a terrible ordeal. Show some compassion.”
The Paladin, Selibra, actually looked ashamed, leaning back in his chair and clearing his throat, “I apologize, miss…” he drew out the last word, looking at Her expectantly. She tilted Her head. “What is your name?” he asked more clearly. She tilted Her head the other way. Were they going to play that game here too?
The Cleric hummed then said, “Please forgive him, miss, we are all very troubled by the events and deaths at the tower. The Major General merely got ahead of himself. If you could tell us your name, then we can let you rest and…”
“I don’t have a name.”
The two men blinked dumbly at Her, and She rolled Her eyes, “I knnnooowww,” She let Her legs fall back down, so She was sitting properly again, “But I don’t know it yet. As soon as I do, I'll tell you.” She assured them. The men exchanged looks as She glanced again out the window. Maybe She should've just told them what Brom and Ran called Her… But those weren’t names. They were descriptors. No better than ‘Firewyrm.’
If these Temple men were to be believed, everything was gone. She had no room, no books, no clothes, no treasures, and no name. What did She have? She pulled Her hair over Her shoulder and stared out the window as She stroked it. She had Her hair. They hadn’t cut it in months. She had Her body. She straightened Her posture, holding Her head high. And She had Her power—the fire crackling deep inside Her soul. The Mages had taken the first two. The third had destroyed them.
“You should rest,” Selibra stood, and Her eyes snapped back to him, “You can send for me when you feel ready to talk. Until then, focus on recovering your strength and your memories.”
He made it all the way to the door, even swung it open before She called out, “What are you going to do to me?”
Selibra turned back, his eyebrows raised in surprise. The Cleric placed a hand on Her shoulder, slowly and carefully, gauging how much of Her heat he could handle. She turned to him, and he let Her go. He'd held on longer than expected. “We will keep you safe, child.” the Cleric assured Her.
The Paladin grew stiff for a moment, then brought his right fist up to his chest, “By the sword of Hengist’s honor, we will safeguard your life and freedom,” Freedom? “Whatever injustices you endured there, you will find justice in the laws of Clearhelm.” She didn’t know what to say, and so, after an awkward moment of silence, Selibra turned for the door again and left.
She didn’t lay down. Instead, She walked back to the window. The view seemed to stretch on forever from so high up, higher than She'd ever remembered being before. Even when She used to climb the trees around Her tower.
Selibra hadn’t locked the door, but the Cleric bustled around behind Her, and the wall below Her clanked with armored knights. What was freedom anyway?
--- Table of Contents ---
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

So 3 months ago I quit my half academic/half industry job that made me want to scream and brought me to a near burn out due to the lack of progress and constant micro managing by a rather problematic boss. No regrets there.
I found myself a menial job. It pays the bills. The place is horrendously organised and they have no structure to speak of, but the salary (barely) covers my bills and there are perks (free gym and spa, for example). It’s boring, but since I’m a bit more savvy than most of the employees in my position, they’ve started to give me some responsibilities (without pay-raise so far, obviously, barely out of my trial period).
Now some academic friends have come to me saying “hey didn’t you want to put forward this cool project where you’ll be your own boss for once in this particular academic field you’re so interested in? They’re having an open call for grants in this institution for it…”
So now I’m pitching the idea to two host laboratories tomorrow. For a grant application deadline in about 6 months. For an answer 6 or 8 months after that. If it works? I’m set for four years in a project I will lead in a field I fucking love.
If it doesn’t work? I’ll officially be washed out of academia I think. I’ll have invested a lot of time and a lot of effort into a passion work that so often doesn’t pay me anything. But I’ll always have the menial job that pays the bills, and that is not to be neglected. Security is a luxury that I am grateful for - I was lucky to find a job to fall back into to start with.
Anyway my head is spinning, stressed about tomorrow, and seriously considering whether I am insane for inflicting this upon myself.
I need a glass of wine.

With this week being Nuke Week (AKA Wild Card Week), I want to do something special here... and oh, boy. Do I have something special cooking here. This post might be a little esoteric since it does talk about the National Arena League, which is the third tier among the indoor football leagues out there (The IFL is top tier and CIF - Champions Indoor Football - is slightly ahead of them). But, this post about the Albany Empire - back-to-back NAL Champions and the final champion of the Arena League 2.0, and their new owner, Antonio Brown. His father, Arena League Hall of Fame legend 'Touchdown' Eddie Brown, is also here as the GM of the Empire. How this season has gone so far is the stuff of nightmares... and (hopefully) shitposting legends.
Let's begin on this timeline...
March 3rd - An announcement is made that Antonio Brown would join the Albany Empire as part owner and his father, 'Touchdown' Eddie Brown, would become the VP of Football Operations. Eddie is a Arena League legend, named to the list of the Top 20 players in Arena Football history in 2006. His name is synonymous with the Albany area - he helped lead the Firebirds (remember them?) to an Arenabowl victory. Local legends helping run the biggest powerhouse in the NAL? Oh, this is too good to be real...
April 6th - AB says he wants to move the team to Saratoga... must want to bet on the ponies or something. No big deal, I guess... except that the coach, Tom Menas, was ran out of town for some unknown reason. The offensive coordinator, Damon Ware, takes over. This will not be the last time you hear of Menas, trust me.
April 16th - Right before the regular season begins, the controversy begins. AB says he's the sole owner of the Empire, but one of the other owners, Mike Kwarta, said otherwise. He and AB each own 47.5% of the team while a minority owner owns the remaining 5%. AB says he paid $1.5 million in workers' comp insurance while Kwarta said "Wait a second... your math is way off, man. I've paid about half that for workers' comp insurance." While all of this going on, the Empire opened their regular season (they had a bye week in Week 1) with a dominating victory over the Orlando Predators (remember them??).
April 19th - Things are going to get complicated pretty quickly, so hang on tight and keep your arms and legs inside the roller coaster at all times. Let's begin... deep breath ...AB is now the sole majority owner of the Empire, buying the 47.5% share that Mike Kwarta owned for a $1 (Cue the guy from the original Robocop who would buy that for a dollar). This sounds all great and dandy... but, there's more to this then meets the eye.
May 1st - A day after a tough loss to the Carolina Cobras, shit hits the fan: The players haven't been paid since April 21st and the coach, who verified that, was also sent packing. Among the players not getting paid were WR Darius Prince, last season's league MVP and (at that time) league leader in TD catches at 10; QB Sam Castronova, who (at that time) lead the league with 241 passing yards per game; and defensive captains Brandon Sesay, Dwayne Hollis and Nick Haag. All of them (along with another player) were suspended due to an incident after the Carolina game - aggravated harassment. As for the payment issue? Well, that came from issues stemming from the processor after Kwarta and most of the front office left after that $1 deal to give AB majority ownership.
May 2nd - Guess who's back? Back again? Guess who's back? Back again?? Yep, it's Tom Menas - the coach who was given the boot before the season began - makes his return to try and turn around the 1-2 Empire in their quest for a three-peat.
May 3rd - Remember when I said there was more then meets the eye with the AB deal? Oh, this is where things get fun. Turns out he has nothing to do with the team - the team is under the control of the Antonio El-Allah Express Trust Enterprise, which is the domestic arm of the Antonio El-Allah Express Trust. Antonio El-Allah, a foreign national, is the trustee of this organization. A letter was sent to the Times-Union that reads:

“I Brown, Antonio Tavaris a foreign national but not a citizen of the United States at birth, am writing to you regarding recent reports that have been circulating in the media regarding my supposed ownership of the Albany Empire team," the letter begins. "I want to make it very clear that I am not the owner of this team, and any claims to the contrary are completely false."

Antonio Tavaris Brown is the full name of AB, but the whole foreign national thing? Yeah, that's false. Pro Football Resource mentions he was born in Miami to American parents and the rule they cited only applies under certain circumstances, all of which involve American Samoa and some place called Swains Island, which I've never heard of until now. And that trust? It's connected to another company, Big Boomin Investment Co. LLC, out of freaking DUBAI! This is something you see with real estate investments, not ownership of a professional football team. There must be some big ass skeletons in this closet.
While the ownership issues are going on, the team preps for their game with the West Texas Warbirds, one of two new members in the NAL this season. They're doing this without Damon Ware, who left the team to go to Orlando, and their QB Sam Castronova. He was one of the eight suspended players from that bus incident and left the team for Jacksonville (Keep an eye on this end, it'll be a big part of what's coming). Despite all this, Albany came close to winning but lost 41-38.
May 10th - Oh, there were minority owners as well. Let's meet the von Schillers, Charlotte and Steve. This couple were season ticket owners before they met up with Mike Kwarta and bought 5% of the team as a way to help grow the franchise's presence in the Capital Region. Since AB bought out Kwarta's share, it's been hell for the couple. They've been very negative to them and the von Schiller's do have a reason to question AB's motives: They wanted to make the best of having AB being part owner, and were hoping he would be a decent person (Oh, you poor naive souls...) and go from there. Well, it's gone downhill from here.
May 17th - In a move that even Narcissus would think was too much, AB plans to get on the field for their next home against the other newbie of the NAL, the Fayetteville (North Carolina) Mustangs. The rules states that there's nothing against a owner who wants to play... so, yeah. Go for it.
May 20th - Karma came in swiftly as Sam Castronova carved up his former team mates as he scored 6 touchdowns to lead Jacksonville to a 79-34 routing of Albany. This ass kicking was so bad that Menas was shit canned a 2nd time in a season. He's replaced by a high school coach in Pete Porcelli, who played in Albany back in the days of the original Arena League.
May 23rd - Jonathan Bane, a recent addition to the team who was over-matched against Jacksonville the week before, leaves the team thanks in large part to the lack of structure, communication and professionalism on the team (No... the hell you say)
May 27th - AB does suit up... in the Barney Stinson style of suiting up. Yes, he doesn't play at all as the Empire fall to the expansion Mustangs 49-27. The Empire, back-to-back NAL Champions, are now 1-5 on the season. Things cannot get any worst, can they? Oh, yes they can!
May 29th - The debut for Porcelli was also his last game as an associate of AB basically told him that he was demoted to line coach. Porcelli told him to eat a bag of dicks and left the team. AB caught wind of this and let that associate know in simple terms that he's not supposed to do that.
June 1st - Man #4, come on down! You've been selected to play 'Who wants to coach this shit show?' with your host, AB! Man #4 is Terry Foster, the defensive coordinator for the Iowa Barnstomers (remember them???) in the IFL. If his defensive coordinator skills are anything (dead last in scoring defense, dead last in rushing defense, dead last in passing efficiency defense and dead last in overall defense), then Albany is bound to be in a world of pure hurt.
Friday (Yes, this recent Friday) - AB just can't stop doing stupid shit. He gets tossed from the Holiday Inn the team is staying at over loud music and the sweet, sweet stink of weed. He sent a video to the Times-Union saying that he got kicked out of the Holiday Inn Marriott (surefire sign of being high on that wacky tobaccy, if you ask me) and saying that he was trespassing, even though he's been there for 60 days. He then sent a longer text talking about how he was friendly with the owner of said Holiday Inn and thanks to a “mutual love for the city and growing business.” (read: I'm rich, please give me free shit), the owner allowed AB and the Empire to stay at the hotel. Well, things have gotten sour with the hotel as he claims that he was "bombarded" by the hotel staff and the police without any warning, conversation or professionalism (Ha... this clown complaining about a lack of professionalism... Ha). To add more into this brewing putrid pot of shit, one of AB's associates sent a text to the Times-Union saying that "our attorneys will be reaching out soon to … the Times Union for misleading and false advertisement. Just FYI.” Oh, by the way... this is all going on during their bye week.