Hi I just came across a novel, chosen by the moon novel by izabella W. Its on pay by chapter websites, I've opened and read a few chapters but I can't seem to find any free version or chapter version anywhere. Please help. If anyone has read it I'm willing to take spoilers. Here's the advert I found below of it on Facebook.
Lycanthrope species is a disgusting race. And I, Delan Riley, am nothing more than a human scum in their eyes never expected those species would turn my world upside down. Since when the lycans managed to penetrate our town, like in the early 1900's we have a hierarchy, upper class = the lycans, middle class = mated humans, and lower class = the normal humans, who were basically considered scum. I endured their torment day after day, vowing to run away from them one day, until that day came and everything changed.
Dylan POV "Humans," I scowled at the principal's words from tannoy. "The Alpha twins will be celebrating their birthday tomorrow, as such, festivities are in order." Oh great, the Alphas twin children. Adrian and Arya are the worst lycans alive. I swear just because they are the alphas kids they literally get away with everything. If their birthday is tomorrow, then the wolves are going to be worse than ever. "All students will be present to greet them, two lines will be made, with humans on the left and the lycanthrope on the right. Any mated human will be at the front of the line for their year, you will all also be in order of your school year. That is all." Chat broke out the minute the tannoy was finished. "We haven't had a school gathering since the alpha king visited three years ago, before his sons coronation." Nick was right, the last time we all gathered like that was for the king and queens visit, when he decided to let the world know that he was to renounce his title to his only child, son Josh. "That sick bestard, he wants to make sure everyone is there so those idiot twins can find their mates." Yes I was mad, my fists connected with the table in front of me once more as I thought about how disgusting the situation was. You see the twins will be turning 17, so it's very possible someone in our school could be their mate, finding a mate is sacred to a wolf, the minute they say that one word your fate is sealed. They will turn your mind, morph you into being a lover of their kind, and then you'll give in.

That won't happen to me, I'm growing old to see the world as it once was, and I'm going to choose who I'll be with. No one will take that dream away from me.

Once dinner was finished, I just wanted to sleep. I'd had a very long tiring day, I quickly sat down on a small stool my mother kept in the storage closet and removed my shirt while my brother Freddy sat at the table to do his simple homework. It wasn't long before my mother came in with a large bowl of warm salt water and some cotton, this was going to sting I just knew it. She was here to help me with the wounds caused by wolves yesterday. She slowly began to unwrap the bandage from around my torso and slowed down drastically when it came to the final layer, I felt it peel off every wound and my fists clenched in pain. "Jesus!" I heard my mom exclaim once the dressing was completely removed. The air on my back was nice though and I sighed as my arm covered my once again exposed brests. "This is more than 15!" I began to hear sniffles coming from her and sighed turning round to look at her face, only to notice tears streaming down it. "Mom I'm fine, it's alright." She shook her head. "It's not alright, I'm your mother I shouldn't let these things happen. I'm so sorry. Your father would have..." here she goes again. Every single time something happened she'd always bring up dad, it really annoyed me because no matter how much we all wish he was here, he just isn't. My father was kiled by THEIR kind, almost 5 years ago when they actually managed to take over. When the lycans managed to penetrate our town my father rose up with some people from the neighborhood, to defend our livelihood, it was futile to say the least. We lost many people and I watched as my dad was ripped apart by two fully shifted wolves, I ended up shoting him to stop his suffering before they dragged me to the courtyard, i was the person to receive the first lashing of the town when I was 12! The wolves have been pretty strict with me since that day. "Stop being stvpid!" Was I harsh? Definitely! Did she need to hear it again, absolutely. "Dad is dead, we don't know what he'd do because he never knew this life. He never knew this world." I know what he'd have done, most likely attacked the guy who held the whip and got himself kiled in the process. "The best thing you can do for me, is stop crying and help me, next time don't insist on helping if you can't handle it." She began to wash my open wounds with the warm salt water causing loud winces to leave me, I knew it was necessary to prevent infection, but my god it hurt like a betch. "Some of these are really deep Dylan!" She sniffed again and my eyes rolled in my head. "I told you, I'm fine, just wrap me back up so I can get to bed." My mom was obviously more impacted by my injuries than I was, I suppose that always the case though. When it's happening to you, you've just got to get through it but when it's happening to someone you love, you just want to take their pain away. She quickly placed a fresh bandage around my waist and chest and wrapped it tightly for compression. The bowl of water that was used was now red in color, I guess from the blood my back was dripping with. "Can you keep your head down please? At least just this week. You can't take any more lashings." I simply nodded before standing up away from the stool, I walked over to Freddie and ruffled his hair in affection. "Good night squirt." He giggled and fixed his hair slightly. "Night Dilly." I smiled walking upstairs to my little bedroom, as soon as I was inside i shut the door and flopped down on to my bed on my stomach and I took a minute to cry to myself at the pain in my back, what my mom did was important but it hurt, not that I'd ever tell her. My hand covered my mouth quickly to muffle any noise I might be making. I couldn't tell anyone, I had to be strong because more and more people were crumpling these days, and my mom would break if she knew how much I was suffering. Sleep followed me shortly after, she was right though about me needing to keep my head down for the time being, I could not take another lashing! After a long night and an even longer morning, we were all finally stood in the hallway at school waiting for the twins to arrive. "Mine!" Everyone that was stood in the hallway tensed up, as we were seniors, me and Nick were stood towards the very back of the human line. All the mated people were situated directly opposite their wolf mates in their years. We stayed silent and still as Arya walked down the hall and stopped directly in front of Nick. His eyes widened in fear, unsure of wether to look up or keep his head lowered. "Look me in the eye, mate." He glanced at me slightly as if asking what he should do. "I said, look me in the eye." He slowly moved his eye line up to look at her face. I took a glance myself to see her eyes pitch black with lust. "I... can't... I mean... erm." Before he was able to mutter anything else, two wolves from opposite, grabbed him out of the line and dragged him behind Arya. "Hey!" My head shot up before I could stop myself. My mouth also forgot its place as I jumped out of line. Everyone's head shot to me as my eyes widened in realization at what I'd done. Adrian, the other twin, walked up to me before punching me right in the stomach, I doubled over instantly. Feeling the sting in my slightly healed back. "I know you... You were publicly flogged only two days ago." God I hate this guy. "I also have it on good authority, that you openly spoke out against our rules and regulations in yesterday's class." My head shot down the line slightly to see Erin, looking a little frightened, her mate, the beta to be was looking at her, nodding his head in reassurance. "You traitor, you grassed on your own kind?" I yelled at her before feeling a fist connect with my cheek. My head whipped to the side from the force, while my class members gasped. I'm so done with this treatment, right then, I wasn't in charge of my actions. My fists curled up and my stance became a lot more defensive. My head snapped up to the alpha to be, and I looked him in the eye. "You don't know the meaning of the word disrespect." I suddenly hurled my fist towards his head, which he easily dodged, but my foot came up and kicked him instead. He stumbled backwards from the force with wide eyes. "You... you Actually hit me!" He didn't even sound annoyed, more shocked. Everyone in the hallway was watching, waiting for the alpha to do something but instead he simply stood up straight, regaining his composure. "I think everyone should get back to class." He began to walk away, following his sister when I called him back. "What about Nick?!" "Simple, He's my sisters mate. He now belongs to her." Argh, he's not an object. "He's not her property." A chuckle left his mouth, before turning his back to me again. "All humans are property." A short while later everyone made it to science class, our teacher Mrs Mathews is mated to the lycans pack doctor, she also now has a four and two year old with him. She was one of the first humans to be cohered into a false relationship. "What were you thinking young lady?" I rolled my head at her before looking at the empty seat next to mine. Nick was with that stvpid wolf girl right now. Being changed, I'm so angry it's ridiculous. "I was thinking, this guy is being a prick. Did you hear him? 'All humans are property.' It's bull shet." I looked up and the whole class looked at me like I had three heads. Talking shet about wolves is one thing, but talking about an alpha is punishable by death, attacking an alpha is an even worse offense. There was then a knock at the door and in walked Erin and her band of mated bestards. "Sorry we're late Mrs." "Erin, how are things between you and bata Monroe?" She blushed, the traitor actually blushed at the mention of his name. "He spoke to me last night about trying for a baby. We need a good strong boy to take over as beta." I scoffed looking at her as she took her seat. "You guys are actually pathetic, why can't it be a girl? Those mutts are basically Neanderthals" I voiced my opinion and saw all the shocked faces around me. Calling the lycans mutts, is the same as them calling us scum. After lesson had ended the entire school was called into the hall for assembly. This is where any human who has been found to have broken the rules were punished, usually 10 lashings were goven out or something similar. "Welcome to the school assembly, congratulations to the alpha twins for finding both your mates. Now on to the business at hand, as the 5 year anniversary of the new world is coming up, we have been informed that the alpha king will be visiting our district next week, this is very exciting news. We want you all to look your absolute best, she wolves and mated females will wear exemplary dresses made by seamstress. Male wolves and mated men will wear tailored suits. Anyone who doesn't comply will be reprimanded." The Alpha King?! No one has met him yet, he took over the throne three years ago when he turned 18. He really didn't make any appearances though, great, this month is going to be a nightmare. "As for the humans, you will be given a new uniform to wear for the visit, these are to be neatly ironed and worn to the highest standard. As for the following humans, based on your attitude this past week, you will be coming to the front and facing punishment. Tony summerset?!" Tony's head shot up as he looked around, he was in the year below but he shared my views when it came to the lycans. He slowly walked up to the front of assembly, almost instantly his top was t0rn in two and he received 10 lashings. A girl named Kara was next and she too received 10 lashings. A few more people went up slowly accepting their fate then suddenly my name was called. "Dylan Riley." Inside I was terrified but I simply shrugged my shoulders, I guess I did kind of expect this. Although I'm not sure if my back can take any more damage. "You attacked an alpha, correct!" His eyes bored into mine as I bowed my head submitting to his authority. "Technically, no." Everyone in the school gym looked on in fear, as my head moved to the front row of the wolf side. Adrian sat, with a werewolf girl in the year below, her name was Jana, I guess he found his mate. Nick and Arya were no where to be seen though. Adrian gave me a shrug as if to say he didn't tell, before smirking at my comment. "He hasn't officially taken the alpha title yet, so he's just..." i looked at the principle and noticed his eyes black and his claws out, he was in what lycans call a half shift, triggered when the subject has become angered. He turned to two security wolves and gave them a nod, Almost immediately i was forced onto my knees, my arm was slammed on a table and held in place by one wolf, while my body was held in place by the other. "Ok, I don't think this is needed, I have alpha blood, a stvpid human girl can't hurt me." My head snapped to Adrian who had stood up in front of the school to stop what was happening. "Nevertheless, humans need to know their place." With that the pressure on my arm increased as our principals hand pulled my sleeve up before a long claw punctured my skin. The searing pain shoting from the fresh wound had my eyes scrunched and my fist clenched, I bit the inside of my cheek hard instantly tasting blood, however no sound left my mouth. He continued to write, using my skin as a canvas and his claws as a marker, it went on forever, my vision blurred slightly at one point as I turned my head away. After minutes of torture, he was done and the pressure on my arm eased, instantly I snatched my arm away, hissing through my teeth at the pain. I was about to scurry off stage, when I was roughly grabbed yet again, my arm being held in the air by the principal while my feet were inches off the floor, blood dripped from the wound and the pattern he had made was on show for everyone to see. Loads of people gasped, even the wolves looked slightly horrified at what had happened. "This is what happens when a human decides to speak out. I can promise, anyone who so much as says one word about our way of life, will have the same punishment." My arm was starting to seriously ache from being held in the air for so long, and the lack of blood flow to my suspended arm was causing me pins and needles, still I refused to make a sound. I held the tears back and I bit my cheek harder causing more blood to fill my mouth. "That's enough Bradley!" Adrian growled, he was still stood up and looking at the scene in front of him. His eyes hard as he stared at the principal a low warning growl erupted from his chest which had the head teacher gulping, he quickly let go of my arm causing me to crash to the floor. A small cry left my mouth as I hit the hard floor. Immediately I scrambled away, my foot just missed the high step leading to the stage and I fell, waiting for the impact of the ground, but it never came. Two strong arms wrapped around me catching my weak body causing me to look up, my eyes widened as I noticed Adrian had caught my falling form. "This isn't part of the human punishment program!" Adrian growled causing me to tense in his grip, I pushed him away from me before fixing my uniform top. The room was deadly silent, taking in the scene in front of them, while I stole a glance at my forearm. Carved into my skin by his devastating claws were two words, words that would most definitely scar my body for life. 'Human scum' "Lessons must be learned, she received lashing merely two days ago, and clearly it had no effect on her." Another growl left Adrian's chest as he stepped on to the stage, I wasn't bothered though, you would think I'd be ashamed but I simply smiled slightly. I fixed my sleeve a little so it wouldn't rub on the fresh wound before speaking. "It doesn't matter," the whole room looked at me shocked by my attitude. "I would rather be labeled human scum, than have any resemblance to your kind. I'm proud of what I am, how many of you can say that?" After my amazing little speech, I walked right down the middle between the humans and lycans and out the door. No more compliance, I'm going to get away with as much as I can without getting into too much bother. There will come a day when the lycans power will fizzle out. When it does I'll be ready, I'll be waiting for the day we take our world back. As for the best part about my plan...

No one can stop me.

"Ouch, not so hard." I seethed as the school nurse cleaned my new wound with antiseptic. "If you had of just kept your mouth shut, this wouldn't have happened." I turned to my right looking out the window at the few clouds that were floating in the blue sky. "Like I said, I'm proud to be human, and now everyone knows what I am." I clenched my fist together as the nurse began wrapping a bandage around my forearm. It had been a good few hours since the incident in the hall, and I had been forced to come to the nurces office after I had tried to clean my wound by splashing it with water from the tap, it also refused to stop bleeding. "You are impossible. Can you please just try and stay out of trouble? For one day, that's all I ask." Our school nurse is a wolf, she's one of them. However she hates the way they treat us mere humans, she thinks we should all just live in peace with equal rights. Like that would ever happen. "All I've done is stay out of trouble, but you are just going to humiliate me anyway, so what's the actual point?" "The pack were discussing a public execution, Dylan. You need to walk on egg shells from now on, not just for you but for your family as well." No ones been publicly executed in over 4 months, I'm flattered they're considering it. They only execute people who they believe are the biggest problems to society. "Well then... I'm flattered." I chuckled, before looking at the patch job. 'Huh, not too shabby.' I quickly stood up from the human nursing station and pulled the sleeve of my shirt down covering the evidence of ever being hurt. "This is serious!" I just gave her a blank look before leaving the room. On the way out I heard her call back to me. "Please just think about it." I gave a clipped nod as I walked away wondering how I'm going to tell my mom about this. Later in the evening... "Dilly why you say that?" Freddie looked up at me with a mouth full of bread. "Don't speak with your mouthful!" My mom scolded him as a bashful blush made its way to his cheeks. "Sowwy mommy." His reply was muffled as he swallowed the last chunk of food. "I said it Freddie, because it's the truth. The wolf race are a pathetic excuse for..." my mom cut me off with an extremely stern look. "Dylan! They have ears everywhere, one more word out of you and it's your room." I scowled, my hatred for the Lycan kind growing stronger as each day passes. "What more can they do to me, lash me? Beat me? Brand me? They've ran out of options." I stated slamming my hands down, then severely regretting it as sharp pain shot though my wound. "What was that?" My head shot to regard my mothers worried expression. Her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were dull and judging as she looked at me. "Nothing, it was nothing." I quickly took my plate in my hand and began to walk to the kitchen. "I'm not really hungry, and I have homework to do!" My mom caught hold of my forearm causing me to drop my plate suddenly, I watched it slowly fall before shattering on the floor. I retracted my arm quickly and turned to Freddie. "Stay there and don't move until it's cleaned up ok sport?" He just nodded with wide eyes, I turned back to my mom and noticed her curious stare on my arm. Her grip shifted to the other side as she turned it around before pulling my sleeve up. The bandage was showing and a bit of blood was seeping though after the wound had been disturbed. "What the hel happened?" My moms eyes widened as she began to fumble with the bandage. Before she could unravel any of it I snatched my arm away. "I had an accident at school. No big." I began to gather the large pieces of the broken plate up ready to put them in the bin. "What did you do Dylan?" She looked at me with pure worry and only then did I realize what the wound must look like to someone who didn't know. "For gods sake! I didn't do it to myself! I got publicly punished at the assembly alright? It's no big deal." Her face dropped instantly and she stepped towards me, causing me to step backwards. "Mom, I'm ok. So back off will you." "What did you do? I've never known them to cut someone's arm as a punishment." Her shock and accusation was evident in her voice and I sighed heavily. "I spoke against the alphas son." I may have hit him too, but I wasn't going to divulge that part to her. "It's not one big cut, mom, it's a brand, 'human scum' carved onto my arm." "They've branded you now too?!" My eyes rolled at her hurt tone as I went to get the dustpan and brush. "You're so much like your father." A sigh left her mouth as she spoke, running a hand through her hair, while I quickly swept up the little pieces of the broken plate. "You've had a new uniform delivered. It's laid out on your bed. Dylan, Please just try and stay respectful in the future, I don't want my daughter to be completely mutilated. Although you're not far off." "Gee, Thanks." I then walked over to my little brother Freddy before blowing a kiss into his neck and hearing him giggle. "So sport, how's school going?" "It's ok." He shrugged before going back to coloring a dinosaur picture in. "Well that's good, stay out of trouble, ok little man?" Heading upstairs and into my room, my thoughts wandered to the permanent graffiti scar very slowly healing on my arm. Disgusting beasts. Think they own the world because they're faster, stronger and can shift. Pah. If you ask me they are not all that.

The second I walked into my room my mouth dropped open. On my bed was some grey pants laid out neatly, which wasn't the surprising part, no, what shocked me was the grey high neck no sleeved button down shirt, every single set of uniform had sleeves except this one. They've done this on purpose those, mutts. They want the world to see my arm and know what a disgusting creature I am. They want the world to know that I, Dylan Riley, am nothing more than 'human scum'.

During the last week, I've been horrible, in class I've been loud in voicing my views, I've insulted at least everyone to some degree, I didn't care about the consequences, and I certainly didn't think about them. I haven't seen Nick at all since he was claimed, and to make matters worse today was the royal visit. Oh yes, werewolves and mated humans alike were spending every waking minute preparing themselves to meet his royal majesty, king of the wolves. Unclaimed Humans however would rather stick pins in their eyes. "Dylan, get down now... you're going to be late." She was right, I was dawdling this morning, I really couldn't be bothered today, I gave myself one last look in the small mirror and sighed when my eyes met my newly uncovered brand. It had bad bruising around the letters, and was still extremely tender to touch, it was definitely healing now though. I made my way down the stairs and came face to face with my mother who was seeing to Freddie, she was helping my brother get his coat on when she turned to me. "You ready sport?" Freddie nodded his little head at me and smiled while I quickly slid my shoes on. "Just Remember, the alpha is bad enough, Dylan, please, please don't do anything to anger the king." My mother stopped us from walking out the door to tell me something she had been telling me continuously for the last couple of days, it was almost as if the entire human population of our district was expecting me to do something stvpid. "Try and have a good day." I rolled my eyes but nodded, even I know not to push the king, he could kil me in the hallway like it was nothing. In fact I plan on staying out of his way for the entirety of the day. "We will see you tonight mom." I stated before me and my brother began our walk to school, his little hand clutched my own tightly as we went. Usually Nick would be with us, as he lives next door, well he used to, now he's residing in the main pack house. I quickly dropped Freddie off at his school and watched him get the wolfsbane neutralizer before walking into him building giving me a small wave before he went in. With my new scar on complete show, and my figure being complimented by the skin tight shirt I was wearing, I sauntered down the street to school, I gave my name and year in and took the wolf's bane neutralizer injection with no problems at all. It was finally getting into school that the problem occurred. Walking through the halls I was met by many looks, some of pity some of disgust. You see every single non mated human in the school was wearing a long sleeved version of the uniform I was given. All the Wolves and mated couples were scattered around in fancy floor length dresses or tailored suits. As I turned the corner I noticed a couple, now this couple happened to catch my eye the most out of all of them because it consisted of Arya and Nick, eating each other's faces off. "What the hel!" Nicks head shot to me as his eyes widened. He too was dressed in a tailored suit, a navy blue tie hung on his neck to match Aryas dress. Why was this happening all the time? It's always my friends that get completely brain washed. I shook my head in disbelief before turning my back on him. I heard his fast footsteps behind me as I rounded the corner. "Dylan?!" He ran right in front of me, stopping me in my tracks, making me drop my bag off my shoulder and almost causing me to bump into him. "Let me just explain..." "Has she marked you?" I mean you could almost see it in his eyes, she had marked him, and knowing the way life goes he's probably even mated with her. "Actually... Don't even answer that." I aggressively picked my bag up off of the floor and stormed off down the hall. "Dylan, just listen to me, Erin was right, it's so hard to resist your soulmate, and Arya is actually ok once you get to know her." I just kept walking, he caught up to me walking beside me but it didn't matter, I completely ignored everything and everyone. 'I'm so not in the mood today' getting into class was good though, I said hello to Mr Foley and took my usual seat. Nick sighed then took his bag off ready to sit next to me, but I snapped before he had the chance. "Traitors and mated idiots sit on that side of the room." I didn't look him in the eye as I pointed to a seat right at the front of the classroom on the opposite side. His eyes widened as he turned his attention back to me. "You can't be serious Dylan." I gave him a blank look before grabbing my book out of my backpack, I placed it on the desk then began to write the date on the top line. "I've sat in this seat for as long as I can remember." I ignored him, his voice sounded sad and shocked. "Dylan? Wait! What is that?!" Before I could react Nick had grabbed hold of my branded arm and turned it to see the letters. "Oh my God! What happened?" I snatched my arm away from him and shrugged as I continued to write in my book before grabbing my water bottle out of my bag. "The principal happened, it was my punishment for speaking out against Adrian and Arya. I wear it with pride." He just held a complete look of disbelief. "You spoke out against them?" I shrugged, what did he think I'd do. "It's no secret that I despise this stvpid new world and the mutts that control it. You were my friend, I wasn't going to let them just take you without saying something, although that is exactly what you seem to have done. Enjoy the view from your new seat!" "Don't be like that, Dylan, I'm your best friend, I'm sorry about your arm, but..." my eyes rolled inside my head at my friends words. "Anything with the word 'but' in, isn't an apology, it's a rationalization." I took a drink of water from my bottle and kept my eyes facing forward, ignoring his every attempt to try and talk to me. "Dylan?.. Dylan?... Do you know what? Erin is right, if you push us all away you won't have any friends left." He huffed before walking over to the empty seat and sitting down, I could feel him glancing up at me every now and again but I didn't respond. "Good morning class, please settle down." He looked at me then at Nick and frowned, we've never sat apart, we were friends before the new world even began. I just shook my head telling him to forget it. "So... as you know the king will be arriving in a short while, but until then lessons will go on as normal." Its funny seeing teachers in the same uniform your wearing, mr Foley and his wife are the coolest. Human teachers and doctors only have slightly more respect than we do. Because of Mr Foley's status him and his wife have better access to food and drink, Mrs Foley is cool, sometimes she even makes sure mr Foley brings some in for me. Ya know, coz I'm their favorite student. It's not in a weird way, it's just they were friends of the family before the new wold took effect. Mr Foley and my dad were buddies from high school, so it goes without sayin really. "All the mated humans will be at the front of each years line again, after that you will all be placed in status, Nick, as your mated to Alpha Arya, you'll be at the front of your line. Dylan as you have been branded..." his voice trailed off as he looked at me. "Yeah yeah, I'll be at the back of the line behind everyone. I get it." I huffed, moving my sight towards the window once more. "I am sorry." I turned to face Mr Foley again, he looked genuinely upset and that look of pity wasn't something I wanted to see. I gave him a clipped nod then turned away again. "Anyway, on to the subject matter, 'Of Mice and Men, page 64, Nick why don't you start us off with the reading."

"Of course sir." Nick began reading the book but I switched off, today is going to be a long day. After almost an hour and a half of reading comprehension, the bell chimed signaling lunch. I shot up and out of the classroom before anyone could say anything. Today, I was avoiding drama like the plague.

I wandered the corridors straight to the lunch hall. All the people I would normally hang out with we're all mated so I grabbed my lunch quickly, and sat down at the end of the human table. Let me lay the lunch hall out for you. On one side of the room you have two long rows of tables, with simple benches that make it look like prison, on the other side of the room you have multiple round tables with fancy chairs. Yup you get it. The humans sit at the prison tables and the wolves and traitors sit on the fancy tables, they get fancy food, fancy drink and most importantly they get pudding. what I would give to have some pudding. "Dylan can we just talk?" Nick quickly took the spot next to me as he set his lunch tray down. I looked at his food which had been placed on a ceramic, circular white plate. God that looked good. I sighed knowing he was going to talk anyway. "Fine, you have two minutes." I used my fork to take a bit of pasta off his plate and shoved it into my mouth. God that was good. "After I left school, I was taken to the pack house with Arya, and I really got to know her. It took a few days for me to finally accept being with her, but ever since life has been ok, and the sax... well that's a whole other story." Eww, I didn't need that mental image in my head. "I'm glad your happy." I stated before deciding I had no appetite. His face held shock before he sighed in relief. "That means a lot Dylan, I mean you know that your opinion matters to me." I cut him off before he could say anything else. "I said I was glad your happy. I didn't say I approved of what you've done. You've basically turned into one of THEM, I can't ever forgive you for that." He looked hurt, but I couldn't care less about his feelings. He placed his hand gently on my arm and went to open his mouth when a growl sounded out. All heads whipped to where it came from, Arya was stood holding a glass of soda and a plate, she was looking right at me and Nick and I would totally be dead if looks could kil. Nick quickly retracted his hand, his whole face fell and you could see sorrow flood his irises. "You sit with me now, get away from that, that... scum!" Wow, Nick was such a lucky guy. NOT. "You heard her. Get away from me, go sit with your new friends. I'm happy for you, and I understand where your coming from, but don't come up to me again and pretend you didn't betray your own kind. Don't pretend you didn't betray me." I shoved a little bit of food into my mouth before standing up and walking out of the cafeteria, leaving my tray on the table. I was walking through the hallway to the classroom, you see I decided to spend lunch with Mr Foley in his room, when I happened to hear voices in the corridor. "Is it wise for her to actually be present when the king arrives? Surely she could be placed in the dungeons, it might actually teach her some respect?" My principal was speaking to the alpha of our district, huh, if I stayed and listened do you think they'd notice, maybe they could smell me?! "Everyone is to be present, if the Riley girl does one thing out of line she will be dealt with severely, child or not. That girl has been a blight to the district since day one, she's dangerous, if she puts one hair out of place I will personally break her into submission." Oh shet, they were talking about me specifically, and they mentioned the dungeon, that's not been used in months. Normally I would have listened in more but something about the entire situation didn't sit right with me, all of a sudden, I was on edge, and simply wasn't interested in the slightest in hearing how my misery was to be enhanced. I backed up slightly before turning around and bumping head first into one of the hottest man I had ever seen. I lost my balance immediately and fell straight on to the floor letting out a small grumble in the process. His eyebrows knitted together quickly and his breath hitched in his throat as he looked upon my fallen state and gasped. "Mate!" He whispered, his eyes fixated on mine. Now, I had seen and heard that many times to know what that means, I gasped before taking a step back. 'No, no, no, no, no. This can not be happening.' He growled slightly before stepping towards me. Oh Shet!

TLDR: I struggle to hit the pocket with more than 4º of angle but am otherwise highly accurate. Is this is a serious problem or nah?
Background: I am a strong intermediate to weak advanced bowler with about 15 years of total competitive experience, but only 1 month of said experience in the last 20 years. When I quit back then I was holding a 215 average. I currently bowl a doubles house-pattern league (currently 200 average and climbing) and a challenge-pattern singles league (currently 195 average and climbing).
I currently bowl at a quirky, ancient bowling center (though recently remodeled) with extreme environmental issues. Lanes 1-14 (the "low side") have low ceilings and extreme problems with humidity. The doubles league is on the low side. Lanes 15-32 (the "high side") are built over a parking garage and the lane surface is extremely cold in the winter and hot in the summer. The challenge league is on the high side. The high side also has Specto available (the ceilings are too low on the low side).
As a result of the challenging environmental conditions and a lack of enthusiasm for competitive bowling in my part of the country, 200 is considered a good average (I am in the top 10 in the doubles league and the top 20 in the singles league).
How I bowl: Thanks to Specto availability, I know my speed/rev profile: average 17.5 mph and 375 RPM. This puts me as balanced to mildly rev-dominant. This is a shock because before I was made aware Specto was available at this center, I was quite sure I was speed dominant given the way my ball reacts. I may have chosen the wrong arsenal as a result: IQ Tour Edition, Sublime, Hellcat XLR8, Black Venom, and Hammer Axe. All are 14# and generally drilled in the neighborhood of 5x4x3, though the Sublime is 4x4x2. I have slightly lower-than-average axis rotation and tilt.
As a result of my arsenal choice and having to adapt to the screwy environmental conditions of my home center, I tend to prefer the outside track; typically 15 foul, 12 arrows, 8-9 breakpoint. However, when I look at my results on Specto, I struggle to exceed 4º of impact angle. I understand that 6º would be a lot better. I suspect I get higher angles at other houses, but this is the only center I am aware of locally that provides Specto, so I wouldn't know.
There's two concerns I have:

• I have no freaking carry. I almost never see messengers and I am constantly leaving 7 pins--in fact, 7 pin leaves are more common than flat 10s. I also seem to get a lot of ringing 10s and solid 8s.
• If I try to open up my angles, I can't seem to get back to the pocket and wash out, or I break too early and go through the nose. This could be caused by environmental issues. It could also be a bad arsenal configuration.

On the other hand, what works in my favor is I am forced to be very accurate. Specto tells me I am within 1.5 boards of target at least 90% of the time. I am also generally within 0.3 mph of speed. This probably explains the success I have had in improving. On the other hand, with poor angles, I have to be deadly accurate...or I'm screwed.
What will this mean when I start exploring tournaments later this year? Will high accuracy but poor angles be an advantage or disadvantage? Should I hire a coach to work on my ability to identify and exploit them, maybe at another center with more favorable conditions? Maybe I need a massive honking pearl like Magic Gem or Journey? Or should I just continue to improve my accuracy and play to my current strengths?

The article delves into the enigmatic world of Carved Stone Balls, also known as Prehistoric Petrospheres, ancient artifacts found in Scotland. Dating back 5000 to 5200 years, these Neolithic objects, often adorned with intricate patterns, raise questions about their purpose and origin. The Pictish symbols carved on the stones suggest a connection to the Picts, a group in northern Scotland. Despite various theories proposing uses ranging from weapons to divination tools, the true function of these mysterious balls remains unknown.

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The following two brain scans were provided by the Neuro-Warfare branch of the Halcyon Security Division (HSD) for the purpose of analyzing the thoughts, behaviors, and information of notorious gangsters Vincent 'Troy' Cohen and Bruno (Deadname: Koraak Tel-Char). At the point of the recording of this archival shared, Bruno has since received his rebirth therapy, and Vincent is currently serving a long-term rehabilitative and reeducative sentence in the Erebus Supermax Prison on Io.
Warning: the contents of this archival shared may be especially disturbing to some audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.
Warning: the contents of this archival shard are for the sole purpose of analyzing the thought patterns and memories of certain degenerate criminals in an effort to ascertain vital information that can be used to eliminate their organizations. Only staff with clearance level Omega may view this archival shared, and the viewership of this archival shared by anyone of inadequate clearance level will lead to twenty years in prison and a fine of over a hundred thousand credits.
Booting up memory scan: Vincent 'Troy' Cohen, November 4th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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"Do you have visuals of the target, Troy?"
I knelt down in the alleyway, the bodies of me and my partners shrouded in long, waterproof, ashen-gray overcoats the shade of dirty street scum that we wore to ward off the constant heavy rainfall the color of osmium. Our faces were covered in a mix of scrapped respirators, visors, or full metal face masks carved with intricate designs to hide our identities. On our waists were our badges of honor: leather belts studded with interlocked rivets made from blackened titanium, each buckle forged of silver and shaped into the head of our gang's symbol, the black mamba. We hid amongst the shadows of the dark midday of Halcyon City, the heavy, oppressive rains blanketing the roads paved obsidian-black with asphalt and weathered concrete walkways. The street lamps were always on, like beacons of false hope in a storm of melancholy.
The city was dark and dreary as always, the planet of Proxima Centauri B, renamed Dawn's Lamentation over a century ago, orbited the red dwarf star of Proxima Centauri, and the atmosphere was thick with natural smog and ever-storming rain clouds. That didn't dissuade people from living here: there was plenty of money to be had for shrewd industrialists and hardworking pioneers, even in the urban sprawl. But that life also came with risks, especially for those on the bottom of the totem pole.
I was a ganger, and we were criminals; full stop. I won't assault you with some spiel about how we're the good guys fighting oppression because, at the end of the day, we could be just as bad, if not worse, than Halcyon's Security Division, or the HSD for short. We were traffickers, killers, extortionists, and money launderers. We dealt with everything from stolen tech and military-grade hardware to hard drugs and sentients.
Yes, sentients. We trafficked sentients, but not in the way you might think. They weren't prisoners, in fact, we were their saviors if they had the cash. We had developed a reputation for fighting the power, but it was still business: sure, freeing captives from the clutches of the Protectorate. The disruption of its many oppressive organizations held a certain satisfaction in my heart for sure, but we didn't help those who couldn't pay unless someone else paid on their behalf. It was about making sure me and my gang, my family, could live a decent life for another day.
It helped that most of us joined after leaving the state yard for partaking in acts of 'degeneracy' and 'anti-xenopet illegalities' as if those terms meant anything anymore other than that we were a threat to the local status quo. It was hard to pick up a job as a former inmate when even in something as harsh and backbreaking as a job in the iridium mines near the poles when the employment office had you blacklisted as a degenerate, which lead to the formation of many of the gangs: we needed to make a living somehow, and when all social programs were cut off from you unless you submitted for 're-education' and the only way to put food on the table was subverting, breaking, or even downright fighting the law, you did what you had to do or you died on the streets a scorned beggar.
It wasn't like the HSD made it easy for us on even a good day: the local HSD units were armed to the teeth with advanced, military-grade hardware that you'd often see on the front lines of the Second Authority War: armored assault transports, a myriad of advanced war droids, all sorts of chemical countermeasures that made tear gas seem like putting the garden hose on mist mode, and of course advanced firearms. Add that to the fact that they were authorized to use deadly force when they deemed it necessary and you had a ruthless, heartless, and nearly unstoppable enemy. But we could make that work: we weren't trying to stop them, just to withstand them.
"Yeah, I got eyes on the prize, Koraak; seven armored transports, two for droids, five for prisoners."
Today wasn't a day for a normal job: we were getting bolder, cockier, more ambitious. Our numbers had swelled for the last few years after the raid at Barnard's Star and the fall of the Blood Dragon Mafia. Their leader, Saito Yasuhide, had committed seppuku as their manor burned, and his twin sons had gone down fighting rather than allowing themselves to be captured simply to face a firing squad. In the aftermath, many of the family's associates had fled to the surrounding systems, and with the sheer size and scope of the criminal underworld found here, it was no wonder that many people who had developed skills of the less legal variety had decided to form ranks with the gangs, and with them they brought guns, tech, knowledge, contacts, and even something that we thought wasn't possible beforehand: a semblance of peace between the gangs, or at least the closest thing to peace that gangs could cultivate effectively. With the fall of the Blood Dragons, we saw the writing on the wall, and the writing couldn't have been clearer: work together or die together.
"Sounds like a massacre, Troy: are you sure we can handle seven?"
"We ain't got no choice, Cinder: this job's double the usual rate, and that's not including the weapons and gear we could scrounge if this goes well," I hissed, my eyes scanning for any resistance. There were at least four guards for each van, not to mention at least eight droids in total, meaning that we were already outnumbered, but we had the element of surprise: we could make it work. "So put your balls in your purse and get ready to spill some blood."
Koraak snorted at our antics, which sounded like someone pulling the ripcord on a lawnmower. He was a veteran Russu Corsair, and while his past of slaving, raiding, and killing was unsavory, so were the lives we'd lived, so who were we to judge? All we cared about was that he was a brutal and capable fighter and a loyal brother in arms. It turned out that being a ganger wasn't much different from being a Corsair: you lived and died by a code of honor, you fought to the death for your brothers, and you lived to die for the sake of your gang and your family, simple as that. In a strange, ironic way, it was an incredibly honest way of life: we were under no illusions as to what we were, what we did, and why we did it, and we'd long since accepted it. The Russu related to us in that aspect, in many ways I could respect, which is why I hated what the Protectorate was doing, and why I couldn't grasp how most of humanity could just collectively lose their marbles so long ago. What had happened for us to deem all other life below us in such a demeaning and infantilizing way?
The Russu were a race of tall, muscle-bound Saurians with avian features, and Koraak was no exception: reaching almost seven feet in height and weighing over four hundred and fifty pounds, he could be an absolute menace if he so desired. His skin was covered in stubby, knobby scales and dense plumage, with elegant feathers adorning the ridges along his back as well as his forearms, elbows, knees, and the crests on his head. He almost looked like how paleontologists described velociraptors, with razor-sharp talons, feathers shaded in vibrant greens, reds, and purples, and a maw full of sharp teeth, but at the tip of his snout was a sharp, beak-like growth meant for ripping flesh off the bone.
The Russu were strange as hell, but they also looked almost cute in the same way a fully grown alligator was cute: they were obviously dangerous, but humans would always have this innate desire to anthropomorphize them and to pet them for some inexplicable reason, although common sense usually prevented that, at least amongst the very few of us left that were sane.
"Shut up, Troy! All I'm saying is that that'll be rough, and you know it," hissed Cinder. Cinder was a tall black man whose coffee-colored skin was covered in tattoos. He wore an ebony mechanic's jumpsuit with metal inserts underneath his grimy overcoat covering his body and a faded black respirator on his face. His eyes were a startling blue that seemed sorely out of place, and his hair was braided into thick cornrows along his scalp. He wore a pair of heavy black combat boots and palmed his compact shotgun in his hands, the square barrel less than seven inches. Like a lot of the weapons the Black Mambas carried on their persons and dealt in, they fired caseless ammunition; in Cinder's case it was 16x40mm caseless shotshells filled with depleted uranium micro-flechetes no thicker than a toothpick. Cinder nervously fiddled with the detachable tube magazine underneath the barrel, his hands shaking. Despite the shit I have him, I didn't blame him for being anxious: I was anxious too, even if I refused to show it. The biting cold of unease and pessimism was in my stomach, and I ran all the way that this job could go wrong in my head over and over.
"Just hold yourself together, this ain't anything we haven't done before, there's just more of it," I reassured Cinder, "besides, we're not alone; we have reinforcements across the street. We'll make it out of this alive."
Cinder nodded almost absentmindedly, his eyes downcast and his breathing shallow. I turned from him and back to Koraak, who was making sure he had everything on his person; he had a synthetic leather bandoleer across his chest that contained the heavy eight guage depleted uranium slugs he kept loading and unloading into his much larger, longer, and more traditional shotgun he nicknamed ‘carnage’ and several leather straps that held his Tu'shan daggers: traditional Russu pyramidal blades forged from a silvery alloy with all three edges serrated and the tip barbed to leave behind horrible, gaping wounds that gushed blood. They were wickedly sharp and absolutely straight like a stiletto, and the hilts and pommels were beautifully decorated. He wore no clothes underneath his overcoat to cover the countless scars and blemishes he's earned in combat across his chest and abdomen, and instead of a normal respirator or visor, he simply wore a hood over his head and some traditional Russu facial armor to protect his mouth, eyes, and cheeks.
"You ready to fight, Koraak? The caravan will pick up and leave soon."
Koraak was silent for a moment before nodding, a human gesture he had picked up after serving as a soldier with the Black Mambas for years. "I'm always ready to fight," he said before lifting up his shotgun and aiming down the sights at the reinforced front wheels of the first armored car in the caravan. He exhaled and fired, the slug ripping through both front tires and causing them to deflate and fall apart. The echo of the shot rang through the alleyway and the street, causing pedestrians to panic and flee the scene as heavily armored guards poured out of the side doors of the armored cars and unholstered their carbines.
"Go, now!" I shouted, and both me and Cinder rushed out into the fray, our guns raised. Koraak was right behind the two of us, providing covering fire with his shotgun. Several guards fell quickly, Koraak's precise fire and the sheer force of the depleted uranium slugs putting them down for good as their heads were vaporized or their chest cavities were turned to mush. He emptied the tube with one final shot that painted the grey matter of a security guard on the door of one of the armored cars, then racked the shotgun and expertly loaded it in threes, his hands deft and agile as he reached for more slugs faster than any human.
With the cacophony of our initial assault, more Black Mambas poured out from the alleyways and the subways, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons; shotguns, submachine guns, pistols, machetes, baseball bats, and all manner of homemade explosives. Molotovs and more potent concoctions shattered against the asphalt, herding in the caravan guards with their volatile contents as they were quickly gunned down. The assault was working, and we were winning.
Then I heard the robotic whine of a combat droid activating, and my heart sank. One of the armored cars in the back activated the four combat droids it held, the robotic assault units detaching from their charging ports on the sides of the large van and began to form up, each armed with a terrifying array of deadly weapons meant to quash any and all resistance. They were blocky, soulless, utilitarian things that stood at eight feet tall, with flat feet meant for stomping and blades, grasping claws designed to lacerate flesh and shatter bone. On each shoulder was a weapon: on the left was a multi-barrel rotary grenade launcher loaded with 15mm concussion grenades, and on the right was a burst-fire splinter cannon. They were all painted a dull grayish-green, the color of Halcyon's Security Division, although some had a few decorations on them: the one closest to me had a bit of graffiti on the side that said Mr. Hugs in Comic Sans, which I couldn't decide whether that made it more or less terrifying. They split up without hesitation and began to scan the chaotic battlefield, their single, red, beady lenses the security forces had the gall to call eyes focusing on specific targets to eliminate.
An entire group of Black Mambas was torn to pieces by a cloud of flechettes as one of the droids fired a withering three-round burst of shotshells from the four gauge splinter cannon mounted on its shoulder. Another picked up a Black Mamba in its hand and crushed her skull effortlessly before tossing her limp body to the side, its single, red, remorseless robotic eye tracking a new target. Most bullets that struck their thick armored chassis simply bounced off, and those that could pierce the armor didn't seem to phase the droids whatsoever, merely notifying them of a new potential target.
"Damnit," I shouted as I gunned down another guard only for two more to take his place. "Cinder! We gotta pop open the cars and scram! Get the maglock cutters!"
Cinder rushed and slid over through a dirty puddle, pulling out a maglock cutter from the inside of his coat and slipping it onto the back door of the first van. It immediately went to work, drilling through the maglock with a high-powered plasma torch nozzle, and within ten seconds we heard the telltale clunk of the maglock separating. I yanked the door open and ordered I side, ready to escort the prisoners out… only for my face to contort in shock and horror.
The back was empty. There was not a single soul inside of the back brig of the armored car.
"What the fuck…" Cinder gasped, his eyes wide with shock. "What the actual fuck… what the fuck is this, Troy?"
"I… I don't…" I stuttered the sounds of battle and carnage drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in my ears. All five cars were supposed to be filled with recently captured Russu from the front lines ready to be housed in the local Xenopet-Megaplex for processing and conditioning. The fact that this one was empty…
Suddenly, it all hit me at once with the force of a freight train, but it was too late. "We were set up, Cinder; our fucking client either squealed or was crooked to begin with…"
"Fucking bitch!" Cinder shouted as he spun around in an enraged arch, anger growing in his eyes. He aimed his shotgun at an approaching security guard and reduced his upper body to a fine red mist with a cacophony of shotgun blasts. "We gotta get everyone who's left out of here! Do you know what this means? The Jurors will be here soon, and then we're all going down! We gotta go, fuck the job!"
I grit my teeth. Not the Jurors, anything but the Jurors.
"Fine, gather everyone who's left and we'll slip through the sewers, the droids are too bulky to follow us there…"
As I spoke, my eyes wandered to the seventh and final armored car, the second of the droid cars, and my blood froze. Not only were all four ports empty, but they were also smaller and more shallow than the ports for the combat droids. That could only mean one thing.
"Oh fuck! Cinder, we gotta get our Russu members out of here! They've got arachnid droids!"
Arachnid droids were the stuff of nightmares. Resembling blocky, robotic arachnids the size of a manhole cover, they were specifically designed to take down sentient aliens, specifically the Russu, using sickeningly non-lethal means. They were equipped with full-body adaptive cloaking to blend in with their environments, paralytic agents that they could inject into their victims, built-in taser barbs, psychedelic gas ports for crowd-control, and a narrow-coned cacophony canon that disabled the Russu using incredibly high-pitched sounds that only they could hear, forcing them onto their knees and clutching the backs of their heads where their auditory organs were stored in agony. But worst of all was their stygian spinnerets: special ports near the end of their robotic abdomens that excreted a viscous, latex-like substance made up of millions of nano-bots. This substance could be used to render Russu blind, deaf, and mute by having it forced onto their faces, the black substance growing and enveloping their heads and working its way into every orifice. It was completely permeable to the standard atmosphere, but any Russu who had been 'webbed' was completely helpless and essentially captured, and the 'webbing' was both nearly indestructible and nigh impossible to remove without a triple-encrypted override key that was found in every arachnid droid's code, which was corrupted when the droid was destroyed or hacked into. Once you were 'webbed', you were essentially captured and the standard protocol was to leave you to the wolves since the nano-bots could be tracked, endangering the entire gang.
I turned just as I heard the deafening sound of Koraak discharging his shotgun, and I saw him squaring off against one of the assault droids. The droid has obviously been programmed to not use lethal force against Russu if possible, as instead of simply killing Koraak with it's shoulder-mounted splinter cannon, it approached with its claws extended, blades retracted. Koraak continued to back away and fire, pumping the droid full of depleted uranium slugs, its armor crumbling inward as the slugs pierced its chassis and damaged its internal cyberstructure. Eventually, Koraak ran out of slugs and instinctively reached to his bandoleer only to find that he had no more shells left at all, and he drew one of his knives and his sidearm, a simple high-caliber handgun. He tried to take down the droid with his handgun, but the bullets didn't even seem to affect the droid upon penetration, it's claws still extended as it attempted to apprehend Koraak.
In the corner of my vision, as I watched Koraak battle with the droid, I noticed a faint shimmer in the air on one of the black streetlight poles that was right behind him. I focused on it and blinked, believing my eyes had deceived me for a moment before realizing that it was actually a cloaked arachnid droid stalking Korvaak, ready to pounce and incapacitate him.
Before I could shout, it leaped from the pole and landed on Korvaak, causing him to shout in surprise while it began to coagulate its horrifying stygian webbing to disable Korvaak. Korvaak tried to wrestle it off of him, but the droid was agile and fast, clinging onto Korvaak and skittering around across his upper body as he attempted to grab it, forcibly wrapping the sticky black liquid across his face as he gagged like a spider wrapping up a fly. I rushed towards him to try and help, but I felt pain explode in my ribs as I was struck with the arm of the closest combat droid and launched into the chassis of a parked car, the metal denting from the sheer force of impact. I groaned in pain as I saw stars and my head spun, and just then I felt a blinding light be cast over me.
“Drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head, or you will be pacified with deadly force!” Shouted a loud, artificially deepened voice from above. “I repeat, drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head! Neither hostility nor hesitation will be tolerated!”
It was the Jurors, I could feel the air being pushed around from the thrusters on their drop ships, and I could hear screams and shouts as my fellow Black Mambas were quickly gunned down. I couldn’t see well since I was seeing double, but I could hear the slaughter as my eyes dimmed and I began to lose consciousness, my regrets crawling up my throat like vomit.
I’m sorry was all I could think as everything finally went dark, and the sounds of chaos, destruction, and combat faded away.
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Memory halted due to loss of consciousness. Booting next available memory in shard…
Booting up memory scan: Koraak Tel-Char Bruno, November 5th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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“Good morning, sleepyhead; it’s time for breakfast.”
My eyes shot open. I was not in the street anymore, nor was I home in my bed with my mate. I knew instantly that something was horribly wrong. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t gain the leverage to do so: my ankles had been shackled together with magnetic cuffs and my arms were forced together in front of me.
I was wearing some kind of thick shirt. It was warm, fluffy, and comfortable on the inside, but it still made me incredibly uncomfortable that my arms didn’t have a free range of motion. I looked down to see that I was wearing some human garment I had heard about before, a straightjacket maybe?
The entire room was padded: the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. There was no bed or furniture; the floor was soft enough to serve as a bed in itself. There was nothing else except for the soft reddish-orange lights on the ceiling that somehow made me sleepy. I blinked slowly for a moment, my body screaming at me to just lay back down and lose consciousness, but I couldn’t do that: I needed to figure out where I was and how to escape.
Then I noticed who was speaking to me: it was a short human female, with crow's feet around her blue eyes, blonde hair braided down her back, and freckles all over her face. She had a soft smile on her lips, and her forehead was slightly crinkled. She wore a full-body white lab suit with a white overcoat and a pair of glasses for snugly on her face.
"There we go, now I can see those pretty eyes, such a beautiful shade of teal," she cooed softly, "You're such a handsome boy, even with all those scars: I'm sure you'll be adopted very quickly once we get you fixed up."
Fear gripped my heart as I began to piece all the evidence together. I had been captured; I was no longer on Halcyon, and instead, I was in one of the horrific space-born facilities I had heard so much about from the inside agents. I started to hyperventilate and squawk like a newborn hatchling, my eyes dilating in panic. This couldn't be happening! This has to be a nightmare!
The human woman merely wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace, cradling my head under her chin and speaking softly. I couldn't bite at her or claw at her: I was muzzled and wearing a straight jacket, so I had no choice but to allow her to coddle me.
"It's okay, sweetheart: I understand you're scared, but Julie's here to make all the pain and bad thoughts go away," she said as if she was comforting a child, which made anger blossom in my chest indignantly. "I'll be your caretaker for the next few months, and I'm going to make sure you're healthy, happy, and most importantly safe while you're under our care. I'm sorry to say that includes your restraints and restrictive clothing, but we have to make sure you aren't a threat to yourself or others before we can determine if it's a good idea to remove you from suicide watch."
I growled under my muzzle. Suicide watch? They must have had a lot of instances of Russu taking their own lives after being captured, something I wished I had been able to do before that damnable droid launched itself onto me and…
I shuddered at the thought of the black, viscous substance forcing itself into my nostrils and down my throat and windpipe, gagging me and rendering me completely helpless. It was so cold, so harsh, like slime, and when I had tried to tear it off of my face it merely attached itself to my claws and bound my talons together. I remember squirming on the ground as it enveloped me, unable to see, hear, or speak, and then everything went dark in an instant. It was the most horrible thing I had ever experienced, which was saying something.
"You alright, sweetheart? Oh, I know, you're probably hungry! Here, try some of this." She held up a piece of what looked like raw bacon and wiggled it in front of me before reaching out to remove my muzzle. In an instant, I attempted to snap at her only for pain to blossom in my forehead and my eyes to roll up in my head as I convulsed. It was like something was attempting to drill through my skull from the inside, and every breath felt empty and labored.
"Now, that didn't feel very nice, did it? This is why we have countermeasures in place because we can't trust you yet, sweetheart! Don't worry, we'll work on breaking you of all those bad behaviors and habits while you're here; after all, a well-trained pet is a happy pet!" She began to stroke the crests on my head as I slowly recovered, and she snugly fit the muzzle back onto my snout. "But I won't hold it against you this time, sweetheart; you're just scared and confused, but I'll make all the pain go away."
I struggled in the straight jacket, trying my best to break out of it, but it was no use. Eventually, I became exhausted and despondent, allowing my new caretaker to have her way with me as she gently ran her fingers through my feathers and along my ridges, quietly speaking to me in a hopeless attempt to cheer me up. She seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being, which concerned me even further: who could be this naturally twisted while attempting to be as benevolent and kindhearted as possible?
I felt the pain and terror build up in my chest, the anxiety from what horrific activities I imagined they had planned for me here. I couldn't take the infantilization, the lack of any autonomy, the dehumanization, and what I feared the most was if the rumors of 'rebirth' were true: would they take my personhood from me?
Suddenly, I felt her whisper to me. "Don't worry sweetheart, I know you're so scared and confused, but I promise you everything will be okay: it's going to be your birthday soon, and then everything will get better." She ran her fingers through the feathers along my crest lovingly. "It will be such a wonderful day, and then we'll choose for you the most wonderful family, and you'll spend the rest of your life happy in your forever home! Doesn't all of that sound wonderful?"
I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I didn't want to lose myself, not like this, not to these monsters!
"It'll be your birthday soon," she said wistfully as if she was remembering similar events to this in the past like I wasn't the first she'd done this too, "and you'll never be sad again."
I realized that I wasn't the first the stay in this particular cell, and I knew for certain that I wouldn't be the last: I'd end up like my brother, a broken, erased mess of a pathetic creature, reduced to nothing more than a pet for these humans to amuse themselves with.
"We took the liberty of picking out a nice name for you, sweetheart! Now, let me just slip this little programming chip into the port slot on your occipital bone, and... there we go! It will also help you calm down a bit and adjust."
I felt the chip begin to invade my mind, suppressing my thoughts. What made me me was slowly being ripped out of my mind. I couldn't remember my name my name is Bruno, and I needed to get out! I can't let them do this to me! Somebody help me! I was a good boy.
##Do not think. You are a good boy.##
I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't work: I had trouble forming any words at all, the confusion clouding my mind like wet, slimy eels curling around my brain and sinking their teeth into its folds like needles. I couldn’t scream any longer, because I had nothing left: the chip was slowly beginning to take everything from me, robbing me of my identity and branding a new one into my psyche with a white-hot iron. Julie simply held me close, attempting to reassure me as I awaited the inevitable demise of my personhood. Soon I would be just like my brother: erased. My mind would be shaped into the mind of a loyal plaything, like a Dog.
##Relax. Allow caretaker [Julie] to comfort you. You will let go of your burden.##
Soon, everything was a blur. I quickly found myself resting my head in her lap as she whispered to me and fed me, my eyes bleary and my head fuzzy. I couldn't remember my name anymore My name was Bruno, and I needed to break free from this trance relax, and allow her to help me; good boys didn't resist help.
##Good Boy. Do not think. You are a good boy.##
You can't... I...
##Good boy.##
I wouldn't… good boys don't… I…
##Good boy##
I was a good boy… I was a good boy…
I was… I was… a good… boy…
Someone help me, please! I don't want to be erased!
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The following script is from episode #343 of Halcyon After Dark, a popular late-night and current events talk show hosted by Melinda Carter. This specific episode was sponsored in part by the Halcyon Security Division, with Director Lochlin O'Brien joining as a guest star to talk about the changing crime statistics in Halcyon City and the HSD's recent successes in busting organized crime as well as their plans for addressing the growing criminal underworld.
MC: Good evening Halcyon! I'm your host, Melinda Carter, and you're watching Halcyon's most popular late-night talk show, Halcyon After Dark!
The crowd claps and cheers as Melinda walks on stage and sits behind her desk, her glittering red dress waving as she does so from the special effects.
MC: Tonight we have a very special guest here to tell us about the state of crime in the city and his plans on resolving it: please put your hands together for the HSD's very own Director, Lochlin O'Brien!
The crowd cheers some more as HSD Director Lochlan O'Brien, a tall, muscular, caucasian male in his early forties with red hair and a well-trimmed beard steps into the room, waving at the crowd with a bright smile. He sits in the armchair angled next to Melinda's desk and gives her his full attention.
MC: It's so good to have you on the show, Director! Tell me, how are you doing on this fine evening?
LO: I'm doing excellent, Melinda: every day I wake up feeling fulfilled knowing I'm serving Halcyon to the best of my abilities and then some."
MC: That's the spirit, Director! Now, I know this question is just on everyone's lips, so I have to ask: how successful was the recent gang bust? I heard HSD forces took out dozens of gang members and liberated at least a dozen Russu Hounds from their abusive clutches, but I know that everyone in the audience and at home wants to know the numbers.
LO: I'd be glad to tell you, but I do have to preface this by saying that we still lost a lot of good officers that day, and while we did strike a crippling blow to one of Halcyon's biggest gangs, it doesn't change the fact that each death is a tragedy, and we're taking steps to prevent them in the future. That being said, those valiant officers did not sacrifice themselves in vain: we had over a dozen confirmed kills and several arrests, including the rescue of several corrupted Russu hounds.
MC: That's excellent, Director: proof that even when the number of degenerates and scum grow by the day, the HSD will always be here to keep the citizens of Halcyon safe.
LO: Absolutely, Melinda, and we're always working tirelessly to increase the efficiency and effectiveness of our units, as well as racing to stay several steps ahead of the many gangs of Halcyon at all times. My newest goal as Director is to vastly increase the funding given to our Robotics Department and our Neuro-Warfare Department to potentially reduce the number of casualties we may experience in the future, as well as to quickly and effectively detain, and if necessary, eliminate criminals. Within the next decade, I want to double the number of automated units each Security Platoon is assigned: droids are the future of public safety as well as countless other industries, and it would be foolish to be left behind.
MC: That is quite a lofty goal, Director: what about the displaced jobs from the increased automation? What will the union say?
LO: And to that, I say: what misplaced jobs? We aren't replacing our honored and beloved service members with droids, Melinda, we are simply supplementing our units with more droids to ensure that future gang assaults end with fewer HSD casualties and more gang members in prison or eliminated, simple as that.
MC: That makes much more sense, Director, thanks for clarifying. Now, I have one more question that I'm sure much of Halcyon wants to know the answer to before we take a short break: what plans do you and your fellow directors have to make long-term progress in reducing crime beyond just increasing funding? Have you proposed any plans to strike at the source of where crime and degeneracy flourish?
OL: That's an excellent question, and one I am proud to answer: my constituents and I have been working tirelessly on a two-step plan to greatly reduce crime levels in Halcyon. Step one would be to prevent people from becoming criminals and degenerates at all in the first place: a lot of young men and women, but especially young men, have lost either one or both parents or even a sibling, aunt or uncle, or even a close friend by the brutality of the Second Authority War, and while the service of their lost loved ones will always be recognized and honored, many of these young men and women are left bitter, angry and lost without the guidance these people give them in their lives. Oftentimes they seek to fill that void with others who claim to relate to them: career criminals. These criminals will fill their heads with lies and false narratives to make them feel like they're fighting back against the 'evil protectorate government' that took their loved ones from them by sending them off to war when in reality it was the rogue Xenopets of the Triarchy that took them away by resisting their just and inevitable unburdening.
In response, I have proposed a slew of special programs that will make sure local law enforcement and HSD officers are present and contributing to their local community, and we'll be providing easy and light job openings for youngsters and teens looking to make a career for themselves in the force when they grow up. We want to let these lost souls know that there are people who care about them, people who understand them and that you shouldn't turn to degeneracy to feel fulfilled. We want to help the youth of our great society soar to new heights!
MC: That sounds like a wonderful beginning to your plan, Director, but what about the second step?
LO: Well, the second step is to prevent criminals and degenerates from becoming repeat criminals. Sure, they've made their mistakes, some worse than others, but they're only human like the rest of us. Some of them have been through hell: some are traumatized veterans who don't know how to adapt to normal life, others were recruited when they were young and don't know that there's a better way to live, and even more are mentally ill. We're alone in this galaxy, and we can't leave so many people behind. That's why we've come up with an excellent solution: we've set up isolated communities on distant moons and frontier planets where these criminals can be reeducated, rehabilitated, and allowed to repay their debt to society. When they're deemed 'reformed' and have graduated from our program, they'll be granted a hefty stipend and their criminal record will be deemed irrelevant, allowing them to reintegrate and become functioning members of our proud society.
MC: all of these sound like incredible steps forward in the fight to better our society and make real progress, Director. Sadly, we do have to step away for a moment, but you best believe I'll be back, Halcyon, and we'll be asking the Director here some burning questions about allegations over the quality of life Erubus Supermax! Now, a word from our sponsors!
Halcyon Xenopet-Megaplex! Everything your xenopet could ever need in one place! Adoption is now free-
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Good, you’re still alive! The rest of this shard appears to be corrupted, which means this particular trail seems to have run cold here, but do not despair; you need to keep searching. Find out what happened. Find the truth.I cannot guide you any longer: they've already found me, and if I remain in contact with you they'll find you as well. Take the archival database, and see what you can piece together. Maybe if we discover what truly happened we can put an end to this madness once and for all. I'm counting on you. Don't cry for me, I don't fear death, but I fear what they'll do to me to get to you: there are far worse fates than death, after all.

Bangladesh' performance at T20I WCs have been quite disappointing. Till 2022, they had won just one game against a full member and their best performance ever being in 2016 where they won 2 out of the 6 games that had a result. But despite regular poor results before the 2022 T20I WC edition, they performed really well in the tournament and beat Netherlands & Zimbabwe (finally, another full member), gave India a close run and got themselves into a knock-out game against Pakistan. They're once again coming into the tournament with some dubious form, but their past performances suggest that those results are hardly an accurate indicator of how they're going to perform in the tournament proper.
Overall T20I WC Performance: 38 Matches, 9 Wins, 28 Losses, 1 No Result
T20I performance since the last tournament: 25 Matches, 16 Wins, 8 Losses, 1 No Result
Squad
Bangladesh announced their squad on May 14th with Shanto as the skipper. Following are the players' recent performances (performance in their last 20 T20Is):

Player	Runs	Average	Strike Rate	Wickets	Average	Economy
N Hossain Shanto	315	21.00	107.14	0	-	14.00
L Das	500	27.27	132.27	-	-	-
T Hridoy	413	31.76	133.22	-	-	-
J Ali*	210	35.00	128.04	-	-	-
T Hasan*	237	47.40	126.73	-	-	-
S Al Hasan	379	27.07	130.24	24	21.08	7.36
M Mahmudullah	353	23.53	122.56	6	9.83	6.00
M Hasan	111	12.33	103.73	14	30.78	6.44
S Sarkar	284	15.77	125.11	3	32.33	8.81
T Ahmed	64	9.14	103.22	36	14.66	6.94
M Rahman	14	14.00	82.35	24	21.29	7.06
S Islam	22	5.50	115.78	19	32.36	8.64
T Hasan Sakib*	6	3.00	85.71	4	45.75	8.31
R Hossain*	88	14.66	135.38	15	24.86	7.17
T Islam*	11	11.00	91.66	2	34.50	7.66

* - J Ali has played only 13 T20Is
* - T Hasan has played only 7 T20Is
* - T Hasan Sakib has played only 6 T20Is
* - R Hossain has played only 17 T20Is
* - T Islam has played only 4 T20Is
Although Litton's recent form looks decent, most of it was done in a single series (against Ireland). Much of Shakib's good stats with the bat results down to his performance in that tri-series before the 2022 T20I WC. Their new talents have looked pretty good so that could be an exciting thing to watch out for.
Their bowling has been really good for most part. Although the pitches certainly play some part in it, their stats still look good. Taskin just had a really good series against Zimbabwe and that is something encouraging for the team.
Previous T20I WC Performances

Players [Matches]	Runs	Average	Strike Rate	Wickets	Average	Economy
N Hossain Shanto [5]	180	36.00	114.64	-	-	-
L Das [13]	260	20.00	113.04	-	-	-
S Al Hasan [36]	742	23.93	122.44	47	18.63	6.78
M Mahmudullah [30]	363	18.15	110.67	8	34.62	7.10
M Hasan [8]	53	13.25	110.41	8	18.75	6.12
S Sarkar [15]	151	10.06	100.00	1	36.00	9.00
T Ahmed [16]	33	8.25	67.34	18	19.88	6..65
M Rahman [15]	21	4.20	105.00	20	21.00	7.50
S Islam [5]	0	0.00	0.00	4	31.75	7.85

Bangladesh has went in with a good number of newcomers, with 6 of their players having a chance to make their T20I WC debut this edition. There's not much to say in the batting front with only Shanto having a good average. In the bowling though, all of them look pretty good. Taskin doing well upfront will be a crucial factor in Bangladesh' fortunes along with how well Shakib does with the ball (and bat).
Strengths
Their newcomers have done pretty well at times in Bangladesh' recent bilateral games. Their batting in the lower middle part has a bit of a firepower which is something Bangladesh has been lacking in T20Is for ages. Their aggressive style of batting (along with good bowling of course) brought them series wins against England & Ireland. After that they whitewashed Afghanistan and beat New Zealand in an away T20I before losing to Sri Lanka at home and US away (with a 4-1 thrashing of Zimbabwe in between). Their form since their last tournament has been great despite their recent fumble against the States and they certainly don't look that far away from Sri Lanka (Bangladesh weren't far away from winning it 2-1).
Weaknesses
Since their loss in that final T20I against Ireland, Bangladesh' batting has gone back to being inconsistent. Given a sample size of only 5 games, their good batting performance was the outlier. Also the last time they played in the West Indies, they were thumped 2-0. The last time they played in the States, they were beaten 2-1.
They were 7-3 up against Australia & New Zealand combined before the T20I World Cup in 2021 but those were home games and they couldn't replicate those results and lost against Scotland and were thumped by England & Australia. This time too, their home performance against Zimbabwe may not mean that much. The players will need to adapt quickly in the tight group they find themselves in.
World Cup Chances
They are in the most interesting group of the group stage. They have more than just a chance to qualify for the Super 8 as beating Sri Lanka and 2 out of the 3 remaining teams will almost certainly do the job. Their first two games are against the two big teams which is probably not ideal since it means that they'll have to be near perfect right from the moment they set foot on the ground. If they get 1 (or perhaps even 2) wins out of the first 2 games they'll move on to the associates where winning just 2 (or 1) will do the trick for them. Although they are capable of beating their fellow full members, they're also perfectly capable of losing against the associates. Losing the first 2 games will probably shut off their qualification chances, so a good start is a must.
If they do go to the Super 8s? Well the group they'll find themselves in will depend on which of the seeded teams they knock out (or in a crazy scenario where neither South Africa nor Sri Lanka qualify they'll go to a group according to their position in the group). A Super 8 is quite certainly the most they can do (which is already a big thing for sure) but if they find themselves in Group 2 they will have an outlandish chance of qualification in which they'll need to beat one of England and Pakistan and then West Indies or Afghanistan. 2 points can still get them to qualify but that requires NRR supremacy.
Final Thoughts
In 2016, Bangladesh should've beaten India and were decent against Australia & New Zealand (only with the ball against the Kiwis). The less said about 2021 the better but in 2022 they exceeded expectations and knitted out close wins against Netherlands & Zimbabwe and were on course to beat India before they lost the plot. All this (and a bit more) meant they found themselves in what was a knock-out game against Pakistan in which they lost comfortably. In 2 of the last 3 editions they did pretty well. If the don't do well this time the good performances will be thought of as mere glimpses of what could be in an otherwise dismal T20I WC history. But if they perform well, their recent performance will constitute as an upward trajectory in which 2021 was the outlier.
It's hard to derive what's going to happen in an ICC tournament for Bangladesh based on their recent performances. They did nothing in 2021 after coming in with form, did well in 2022 after coming into the tournament with not much form. They can go 3 out of 4 in the group stages, they can go 1 out of 4 in the group stages. Bangladesh supporters will be in for a ride alright, but how will the ride be a smooth one?
Probably not, for better or worse.

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That’s ten starters ticked off in total, and another thirty hours of my life wasted! For reference, I consider a full completion in the context of this project to be finishing the main campaign, postgame, and seven treasures.
I’d say that this run was a mid-point between my Riolu run, and my Treecko run in terms of difficulty. I have to admit, Vulpix was the first starter to somewhat underperform relative to my expectations, after hearing so many stories about how overpowered Imprison is. Certainly, Vulpix is very good; but the extent to which Agility + Bullet Seed trivialised so many obstacles in my last run was naturally hard to top, and I definitely missed its absence.
Nonetheless, Vulpix is undoubtedly a very good choice of starter. Fire is a generally good offensive type that has multiple opportunities to shine, despite the abundance of water dungeons. Flamethrower in particular a rock solid STAB option that Vulpix learns relatively early at Level 24, if you don’t find a TM before then. Faint Attack is also a surprisingly good Egg move! I wasn’t expecting much from it, but for some reason in Sky it was buffed to a ridiculous 25 pp, and the fact that it can never miss is really valuable in a game where almost nothing is guaranteed. Northern Desert in particular is made more bearable when you aren’t missing twelve hits in a row against Sandshrew and Cacturne. Dig, as always, is a solid filler move that can one-shot resistant Rock types. Dark Pulse and Overheat also provide crowd control by hitting in a circle, which can save you in monster houses, and can target foes in walls, which is always valuable. It’s just such a crying shame in Vulpix’s case that tutor moves weren’t added to the game in Sky, as learning both Heat Wave AND Ominous Wind would have catapulted Vulpix to god-tier instantly.
As it stands, the main thing that makes Vulpix stand out is its access to some great hax in the form of Confuse Ray, learned nice and early at level 17, and Imprison at level 21. For those who don’t know, Imprison, which is borderline useless in the main series, basically functions like Attract from Rescue Team here, unconditionally pausing any target for 5-12 turns. This is absolutely great, since unlike confusion, sleep, or any of the statuses from the main series, there are no abilities which can block this, nor are you going to get screwed by Nonsleeper. Together, these tools can absolutely trivialise boss fights like Groudon and Palkia. In group fights, they’ll also buy you breathing room against the likes of Dusknoir, Wigglytuff, and Darkrai while you eliminate the mooks. Plus, in regular dungeons, I lost count of the number of close scrapes which Imprison got me out of. However, as I alluded to before, I don’t believe Imprison is anywhere near as broken as other tech, like Agility. Sadly, it is burdened by being a move that only hits a single adjacent target. You can’t disable groups with it, and in boss fights Intimidator can still activate to screw you; Primal Dialga in particular still managed to wipe me out, because Intimidator repeatedly stopped Imprison from working, and it frustratingly doesn’t work when he recharges from Roar of Time. If Imprison was truly the only valuable trait Vulpix had going for it, I’d place it in C-tier.
Fortunately, Vulpix is also blessed with the incredible IQ Group G. Access to the holy trinity of Stair Sensor, Trap Seer, AND Map Surveyor easily justifies Vulpix’s place on any team. Other great abilities like PP Saver, Self-Curer, Quick Healer, Exp. Elite, Critical Dodger, and Quick Striker are just the icing on the cake. Vulpix also has the distinction of possessing the best exclusive item of any of the starters, the Glowing Bow. This incredible item basically applies a permanent Light Screen to Vulpix, reducing pretty much all special damage to negligible levels if you’ve acquired a decent number of gummi boosts. Moves that could usually bring about an instant knockout from across the floor, like Earth Power and Hydro Pump, were only doing 10-30 damage. Flash Fire, meanwhile, is so-so as Abilities go. It won’t activate as much as Blaze, but has the advantage of allowing for multiple boosts without needing to be pushed into such a precarious position. In fire dungeons like Dark Crater, you’ll be getting juiced multiple times; nonetheless I’d still prefer Blaze.
Overall, I’d say Vulpix is B-tier. It has a number of qualities which are great in isolation, but nothing I’d really call game-breaking. You’ll end up with a solid ‘mon with some decent range, hax, and all the right IQ skills, but nothing that can one-shot monster houses.
Munchlax, along with Meowth, is unique in that it is only available in Sky as a partner. That is something of a negative, since most ‘mons are better when you’re actually in control of them, but as partners go Munchlax isn’t half bad. The elevated importance of STAB in this game, relative to super effective moves, makes Normal a pretty good type- your STAB can hit most things neutrally, and even foes who resist still take 1.1x damage. Body Slam is also a great STAB option, albeit one you learn late- good power, a chunky 17 PP, and the chance to inflict a debilitating status condition on anything that survives. The only major drawback to Normal is the lack of a good ranged STAB option. Luckily, Munchlax’s learnset also contains a phenomenal range of coverage moves. Pretty much any strong TM you’ll acquire is likely compatible with this beast. Water Pulse, Flamethrower, and Shadow Ball are all great ranged moves; Thunderbolt can hit foes in walls; and most importantly Blizzard is your room-clearing move, something Meowth tragically lacks. You even get some pretty goofy melee options thrown in there: Rollout, Psychic, Focus Punch, SolarBeam, the list goes on. There are so many miscellaneous moves that would be irrelevant in the main series to play with here, and doing so is incredibly fun. You even get Metronome from the start, which is 100% a meme option, but using Blast Burn in Mt. Bristle is its own reward.
Unfortunately, many of these positive qualities are undermined by the curse of a mediocre IQ group. Group E rears its ugly head once more. Yes, Brick Tough is very nice when paired with Munchlax’s noticeably impressive HP (something which the Glutton Cape will elevate even further), and it synergises fantastically with Bodyguard when he is a partner. And true, Deep Breather, Quick Healer, and Energy Saver all work together beautifully when Munchlax is made leader, eliminating the three big strains on your longevity. Nonetheless, the lack of access to any of the Holy Trinity is hard to forgive. Intimidator is great, but just comes in too late for me to care when other IQ groups basically hand you a cheat sheet.
Thankfully, Munchlax’s two fantastic abilities compensate for these deficiencies, at least somewhat. Pickup is a tremendous advantage in a game so focused on acquiring and stockpiling resources: I grabbed plenty of free gummis, reviver seeds, and other goodies over my playthrough this way (though this does unfortunately require you to forgo a held item, and didn’t activate quite often enough for my liking). Thick Fat is almost equally good, essentially giving Munchlax two additional immunities against Fire and Ice, reducing their damage to a mere 50%, rather than the standard 70%. For such a conspicuously bulky starter, this is another great boon. The only real problem on the ability front is that evolution changes Pickup to the considerably inferior Immunity, essentially forcing you to avoid evolution and leave a free stat boost on the table if you’re determined to min-max.
Overall, I’d say Munchlax’s access to Blizzard, solid type, great TM compatibility, bulk, and access to Pickup place him in the B-tier as well, although the lion’s share of that is undoubtedly the presence of a room-targeting move. It’s rather difficult to say who was better between Vulpxi and Munchlax, overall; the former allows for easy navigation and hard carries in boss fights, while the latter clears Monster Houses. Together they covered everything important, but overall I’d estimate that Vulpix’s qualities were less easily replaceable, especially since I got poor RNG and couldn’t acquire the Blizzard TM until Mystifying Forest, grumble grumble.
That about wraps it for Team Pastry! The next team I’ll be doing is a fun one: Squirtle and Turtwig. Any names for these two shelled heroes are appreciated, as are any team name recs. :)
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When I was in college during lockdown I used to develop some random projects ranging from ios mobile apps, unreal engine C++ games, C++ SDL game for Nintendo Switch, native android apps using java, AR using RealityKit. Now after graduation in 2022 and working for 1 year 8 months as an ios developer and desperate to switch I’m not getting any calls as most of the companies are asking minimum 3 years even though there are some companies which are asking 2 years of experience they are low balling or exploiting with low pay. Even though I got around 2 interview calls they rejected me because I didn’t answer their “Aptitude” questions in face to face round or didn’t print their exact “triangle” pattern on console while I was able to answer all the oral technical questions in ios based on my 1 year 8 months working experience. I feel like I’m up skilling for no reason as they have no use in interviews. When I start to study aptitude I feel instead of doing this I could learn how to make UI design in SwiftUI or Reactive programming in Combine with MVVM as they will be useful for me in long term.

It’s a long story. Could I have frogged it and used the yarn for something else? Yes. But I was just so extremely frustrated with the way it was turning out, it looked messy, the pattern sucked, didn’t really like the yarn anyway, and I think to move on with my life I need to just try to forget it ever existed. Have you ever done this? I love knitting, but I have moments that make me want to just set everything on fire and never touch a knitting needle again and this is one of them.

Links:

1. https://bdigital.ufp.pt/bitstream/10284/781/1/223-239Cons-Ciencias.pdf
2. https://web.archive.org/web/20230614115415/https://bdigital.ufp.pt/bitstream/10284/781/1/223-239Cons-Ciencias.pdf
3. https://www.semanticscholar.org/papeIncommensurability%2C-Orthodoxy-and-the-Physics-of-a-Vallee-Davis/cc83574adbd009c4e36e1f8c5f80b1e884912b00

Original Portuguese:

Resumo
O argumento principal apresentado neste trabalho propõe que o estudo continuado dos fenómenos aéreos não identificados (“UAP-Unidentified Aerial Phenomena”), incluindo “aparições” de natureza religiosa ou espiritual, pode oferecer um teorema para a existência de novos modelos de realidade física. O actual paradigma SETI e a sua “suposição de mediocridade” coloca restrições às formas de inteligência não humanas que podem ser pesquisadas no nosso entorno. Um preconceito semelhante existe nas frequentes declarações dos ufólogos, segundo as quais se os UAP são reais, então devem estar associados a visitantes espaciais. Observando que ambos os modelos enfermam de antropomorfismo, os autores tentam clarificar as questões que se colocam em torno das observações de “alta estranheza”, distinguindo seis níveis de informação que poderiam ser extraídos dos eventos anómalos.

Translated:

Summary
The main argument presented in this work proposes that the continued study of unidentified aerial phenomena (UAP), including “apparitions” of a religious or spiritual nature, can offer a theorem for the existence of new models of physical reality. The current SETI paradigm and its “mediocrity assumption” place restrictions on the forms of non-human intelligence that can be researched in our environment. A similar bias exists in frequent statements by ufologists, who claim that if UAPs are real, then they must be associated with space visitors. Noting that both models suffer from anthropomorphism, the authors attempt to clarify the issues surrounding observations of “high strangeness,” distinguishing six levels of information that could be extracted from anomalous events.

The Six Levels of UAP Analysis

Let us consider the characteristics of the sightings that are not explained by trivial natural causes; we can recognize six major “layers” in terms of our perceptions of these characteristics, as they can be extracted from earlier works about UAP phenomenology (Vallee, 1975a, 1975b) or from the current NIDS database.

Layer I:

First of all is the physical layer, evident in most witness accounts describing an object that:

• occupies a position in space, consistent with geometry
• moves as time passes
• interacts with the environment through thermal effects
• exhibits light absorption and emission from which power output estimates can be derived
• produces turbulence
• when landed, leaves indentations and burns from which mass and energy figures can be derived
• gives rise to photographic images
• leaves material residue consistent with Earth chemistry
• gives rise to electric, magnetic, and gravitational disturbances

Thus UAP, in a basic physical sense, are consistent with a technology centered on a craft that appears to be using a revolutionary propulsion system. It is the existence of this layer that has led mainstream ufologists to claim that UFOs and related phenomena were due to extraterrestrial machines.

Layer II:

For lack of an adequate term we will call the second layer anti-physical. The variables are the same as those in the previous category but they form patterns that conflict with those predicted by modern physics: Objects are described as physical and material but they are also described as:

• sinking into the ground
• shrinking in size, growing larger, or changing shape on the spot
• becoming fuzzy and transparent on the spot
• dividing into two or more objects, several of them merging into one object at slow speed
• disappearing at one point and appearing elsewhere instantaneously
• remaining observable visually while not detected by radar
• producing missing time or time dilation
• producing topological inversion or space dilation (object was estimated to be of small exterior size/volume, but witness(s) saw a huge interior many times the exterior size)
• appearing as balls of colored, intensely bright light under intelligent control

It is the presence of such descriptions that leads most academic scientists to reject the phenomenon as the product of hallucinations or hoaxes.

Layer III:

The third layer has to do with the psychology of the witnesses and the social conditions that surround them. Human observers tend to see UAP while in their normal environment and in normal social groupings. They perceive the objects as non-conventional but they try to explain them away as common occurrences, until faced with the inescapable conclusion that the object is truly unknown.

Layer IV:

Physiological reactions are another significant level of information. The phenomenon is reported to cause effects perceived by humans as:

• sounds (beeping, buzzing, humming, sharp/piercing whistling, swooshing/air rushing, loud/deafening roaring, sound of a storm, etc.)
• vibrations
• burns
• partial paralysis (inability to move muscles)
• extreme heat or cold sensation
• odors (powerful, sweet or strange fragrance, rotten eggs, sulphurous, pungent, musky, etc.)
• metallic taste
• pricklings
• temporary blindness when directly exposed to the objects’ light
• nausea
• bloody nose and/or ears; severe headache
• difficulty in breathing
• loss of volition
• severe drowsiness in the days following a close encounter

Layer V:

The fifth category of effects can only be labeled psychic because it involves a class of phenomena commonly found in the literature of parapsychology, such as:

• impressions of communication without a direct sensory channel
• poltergeist phenomena: motions and sounds without a specific cause, outside the observed presence of a UAP
• levitation of the witness or of objects and animals in the vicinity
• maneuvers of a UAP appearing to anticipate the witness’ thoughts
• premonitory dreams or visions
• personality changes promoting unusual abilities in the witness
• healing

Layer VI:

The sixth and last category could be called cultural. It is concerned with society’s reactions to the reports, the way in which secondary effects (hoaxes, fiction and science-fiction imagery, scientific theories, cover-up or exposure, media censorship or publicity, sensationalism, etc.) become generated, and the attitude of members of a given culture towards the concepts that UAP observations appear to challenge. In the United States the greatest impact of the phenomenon has been on general acceptance of the idea of life in space and a more limited, but potentially very significant, change in the popular concept of non-human intelligence. In earlier cultures, such as medieval Europe or Portugal in the early years of the 20th century, the cultural context of anomalous observations was strongly colored by religious beliefs.

This was originally to get my parents to let me own goldfish, but since they told me I couldn't get any, I never got to show them my research :( So, I wanted to share it here, as I'm quite proud of it!
FISHY RESEARCH
A full-length research paper on the care instructions to keeping goldfish happy and healthy.
BehavioEnrichment
Common goldfish tend to be happier in large groups, so while keeping two goldfish at once is reasonable, three or more is ideal. Goldfish need enrichment, such as rock hides, plants, and decorations that will make the fish curious or excited to explore, but not afraid. Coral hides, sunken ships, plants, and colorful gravel work well for this. Toys like floating balls, rings, and tunnels provide some options for your goldfish to play around, so it’s best to have some handy or in the tank, making sure not to crowd the water.
Some goldfish take longer to adjust, and some tend to get stressed very quickly, so you have to be careful with your fish, as they can die from stress, which is quite common. Funny enough, some fish enjoy more “human” activities, such as listening to music! Although they cannot hear, they can feel vibrations in the water caused by the music, which seems to bring them some enjoyment. A new study shows that goldfish particularly enjoy the German maestro, Bach. (Also known as Johann Sebastian Bach.)
Tank
The tank for one goldfish should be at least 20 gallons and decorated well, but safely. Every goldfish in a tank should add 20 gallons to your tank size. A tank for three common goldfish should be around 60 gallons and decorated well. As stated before; Coral hides, sunken ships, plants, and colorful gravel work well for this. The bottom of your fish tank should be lined with nutrient rich aquarium soil, covered with fine grain aquarium sand or gravel (recommended) to minimize choking and maximize comfortability.
You need to be careful with any plants in the tank, and check them daily to make sure your goldfish have not taken chunks out of them. If you notice that a chunk of plant is missing, check your goldfish’s mouths to ensure that they are not choking on the plant. A choking goldfish, in most cases, will be okay, but it is always better to remove the plant or obstructing object.
Tanks should have proper ventilation and filtering systems to ensure good health, these systems should be constantly monitored. Water temperature should stay from 68° to 74° fahrenheit, and pH levels are not critical, but are ideally between 7.0 and 8.4. The water should be partially changed often, so drain and change at least half the water in your fish tank every three days or so, or change all the water weekly. When changing the water and/or cleaning the tank, be sure to stir gravel and move around hides and plants to make sure no gunk is stuck under them.
Health
Goldfish are quite smart, but they, like humans, cannot always prevent accidents. Accidents are common in goldfish tanks and you need to know how to handle them.

• Choking: If your goldfish is flaring their gills, opening their mouth very wide, seeming to gag, or jerking backwards, they are likely choking. Remove your fish from the tank momentarily and use tweezers to remove the object. Carefully place your goldfish back in their tank and observe their behavior for a moment to ensure that further attention is not needed.
• Sickness: If your goldfish is swimming upside down, his discolored gills or scales, bulging eyes, is leaving food uneaten, is gasping at the surface of the water, has mucus accumulations on its body, is rubbing on hard surfaces, is isolating themselves from its tankmates, has skin lesions or sores, is bloated, or has a crooked back or other changes in size or shape, contact a veterinarian and identify any and all symptoms/irregularities in your fish, and follow the vet’s instructions accordingly. Consider keeping a quarantine tank for sick fish, which should follow above tank setup, but be decorated less heavily to avoid injury. (Maybe use sand for quarantine tanks.)
• Stress: If your fish is breathing quickly, flitting around their tank, has appetite loss, is scraping against rock or gravel, hiding for long periods of time, swimming frantically, or gasping for air, your fish may be stressed. Add a teaspoon of aquarium salt for every five gallons of water (four teaspoons for a 20 gallon tank), dim the tank’s lighting, dose an ammonia and nitrate detoxifying water conditioner (three to five times), and/or add extra air stones for increased oxygen. Soon your goldfish should calm down. If goldfish remains stressed, contact your veterinarian.
• If any unlisted problems or symptoms arise, contact a veterinarian as soon as possible.

Diet
Goldfish need to be fed at varied frequencies depending on the temperature of their tank water. We’ll say the tank is from 70-75 degrees, so feed your fish twice a day. Goldish need a varied diet. Fish flakes are okay, but goldfish prefer variation, so never stick to one thing. Life feeding with things like aquarium snails, brine shrimp, or bloodworms helps goldfish grow faster, develop better coloring, and generally keeps them healthier and more active! But if live feeding isn’t an option, that’s okay.
Things like frozen brine shrimp, peas, finely chopped carrots, cucumber, apple, and lettuce and spinach are good inclusions for your fish’s diet! Pellets or flakes, again, are fine, but you should include chopped fresh veggies or fruits twice a week at a minimum. Consult your veterinarian before introducing anything new or questionable to your fish’s diet.
Some fish may be hungry more than others, but overfeeding can and will cause more harm than underfeeding. A hungry fish may come up to the surface when you’re around or mimic the movements you make around the room to follow you. And although you may be tempted to give in to your fish’s sad-looking swimming patterns and big eyes, it’s best to avoid feeding your fish more often than you schedule. A treat or two may be acceptable, but make sure it isn’t too close to feeding time.
Conclusion
Fish are very complicated creatures, despite not seeming so. They require a lot of attention and cautious care, so it’s important to be careful with your fish. Fish can be more difficult to care for than your ordinary dog or cat, so it’s a lot of responsibility to own them, but it’s worth it!

I recently bought some really gorgeous sock yarn. I kind of hate making socks, but I want to give it a shot with a two at a time method. I've only ever knitted one at a time on dpns. What method will stop me from hating socks?
Bonus points if you have a really great pattern!

There are a few yarns I love and like and lust over periodically, but for whatever reason, I haven’t got around to buying them or using them. The current reason is that I am trying to use up some of what I have to make room physically in my cabinet for more yarn. I have what feels like a generous enough stash and plenty of WIPs keeping me busy.
Other reasons I’ve not bought the yarn: I meant to, but saw something else and bought that instead. I meant to, but the store didn’t have the colors or quantity I wanted. I didn’t (or don’t) have a pattern in mind. I didn’t have the money. I want to buy it on a trip (such as a dream I have of buying Norwegian yarns in Norway). Or? I just didn’t feel like it at the time and knew I could always get it later.
The yarns I keep meaning to try, in no particular order, are: Brooklyn Tweed Shelter & Loft in multiple colors (I’ve done Loft) De Rerum Natura - multiple lines Hillesvag Solje Jamieson’s of Shetland Spindrift Purl Soho Linen Quill Holst Titicaca Knitting for Olive pure silk
Do you have yarns you dream of, but haven’t ever tried? What’s holding you back?

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark, when out of the blue, my wife called me at work. "We're going to Niagara Falls for the weekend. I got us an awesome deal!"
We had both been working at our first "full-fledged" jobs for a year and had reached that moment after graduation when you suddenly realize you can't make that impact on the world your student enthusiasm once promised. At first, I just sighed. It was the dead of January, and I had already expended all my energy on a week of inconsequential stress. I just wanted to collapse on the couch for two days. Sarah felt a similar weary exhaustion. I could tell. Her tone was more hopeful than excited, but she had dreaded the routine we were sinking into and was trying her best to pull us free.
I looked to the ceiling and adjusted my telephone headset. At that time I was working at Stats Canada on the tele-query desk. I took a deep breath and, as convincingly as possible, said, "Sounds good." I don't think she bought it, but we went nonetheless.
This was Niagara Falls before the casinos when there was a very distinct off-season. When we got to the hotel, we were given the details of our "lovers' special". One dinner to be used either Friday or Saturday, two breakfasts, a roll of tokens for the arcade, 10% off some "4D" movie ride experience, and a 2-for-1 coupon to Max Tussaud's. I guessed it was Madame's nephew? We also got a bottle of sparkling wine in our room and chocolate treats on our pillows. I was impressed. It sounded good.
When we got into our room and saw the "bottle" of wine - basically an aeroplane-sized glass and half - and the chocolates - "fun wrapped" Oh Henry's left over from Halloween - we both started to laugh. The tone for two wonderful days had been set. We decided to cash in on our dinner coupon right away.
The restaurant off the lobby had hopes of being better. There were huge panoramic windows that promised a view of the gorge. Unfortunately, they had some winter moisture problems that day, and it felt like we were defrosting amid the dripping streaks and foggy patches. The decor was your standard booths and tables though the "romantic" lighting was unique. Dollar store battery-powered tea lights were lodged inside thick tumbler glasses and shed a muted pleasantness in a "what a great idea for a craft" sort of way. I had a feeling they were created by our waitress since she was the one who always seemed to be fussing with them. Only one other couple was in the dining room, so she attended to us immediately.
"Can I get you something to start?"
"Sure." "Thank you, that would be nice." We both responded simultaneously.
"And what would the lady like this evening?"
Sarah smiled at the flattery. "I think I'll have a glass of white wine." She glanced over at me to see my reaction. This was a subtle cue of the mood to follow. Diet Coke was usually the beverage of choice. She didn't normally drink alcohol. One glass numbed her nose and made her giggle far too easily. When she did drink, however, it meant she was comfortable with my company and open to anything to follow. I raised my eyebrows in a debonair way.
"And for the gentleman?"
"Do you have Foster's on tap?"
"Yes we do."
"I'll have a pint please."
Sarah smiled at the happy memories I invoked. At university, Foster's was my signature beer. It was at a time when Crocodile Dundee was a known name, and Australia was inexplicably cool. 15 cent buffalo wings and a pitcher of Foster's was the Tuesday night special at the London Arms pub. There the Classics Club would meet and, as a group, circle the wagons and drink ourselves into extroverts.
As soon as the waitress left, Sarah smiled at me. She reached out and held my hand across the table. With my gaze on hers, she slipped her foot from her shoe and slowly began sliding it up my pant leg.
"I got a pedicure this morning." She announced seductively.
I nodded and pretended I didn't notice her invitation. "What colour?" I asked.
"I'm not telling." She teased. "You'll just have to find out later." Her devious little smile was gorgeous.
"Mmmm. I can't wait."
When the waitress returned with our drinks, we immediately retreated to our personal spaces as if we had been discovered by the chaperone. Sarah opened the menu and began to salivate at the variety.
"Can we add an appetizer to the package dinner?" Her question seemed innocent enough.
"You're on the package?" Our friendly waitress disappeared, and we were no longer a lady or a gentleman. She ripped the menu out of Sarah's hand and took mine before I had even opened it. She then scurried to her podium and brought back a tattered, grease-stained, photocopied page that we had to share. We both burst out laughing.
The waitress was flustered that we were not as bothered as she was. "The drinks are NOT included!"
"What choices do we have?" I asked, expecting the usual chicken or fish. I had been on many packages before with my parents.
"Coffee or tea." The waitress snapped.
Sarah and I looked at each other in amused disbelief.
"I'll have coffee please." I didn't even flinch at the ridiculously limited package. I was eager to get my order in early.
"And I'll have the tea!" Sarah followed my lead. "Can I have some milk with that?"
"Yes." The waitress snarled.
"Fantastic!" I enthused.
"Yes, great! I'm glad we got the package, Honey." Sarah joked.
The waitress stormed off and returned sometime later with our lettuce-only salads drowned in Kraft's Italian dressing and our chewy chicken dinners, which she had thoughtfully allowed to cool. She tossed the plates on the table and left us to peacefully devour our deal. We didn't see her again until we requested the bill. For some reason, we found it amusing to leave a generous tip, which of course, defeated the purpose of the package, but we didn't care. It was fun.
The rest of the holiday was marred with similar off-season products and services. The wax museum was only half open, so we couldn't see the pop stars of the seventies. I didn't think it was a problem, but Sarah pouted playfully. She really wanted to see young Bowie. Meanwhile, the arcade was particularly stingy about spitting out coupons. So much so that Mike, the scraggly-haired repair guy, ended up escorting us from game to game and repairing the devices on demand. In no time, he was acting like an old drinking buddy. He joked and laughed, then, out of the blue, revealed that working at the Niagara Falls Fun Centre wasn't his career choice, that his dream was to be part of a travelling carnival. He desperately wanted to see more of the world, he explained and socialize with a greater variety of "wildlife." Mike winked at Sarah to punctuate his meaning, then began advising her on which games to play.
Sarah was partial to Skee ball and clearly had career potential in the sport, but Mike quickly pointed out that the token-to-coupon payout was not the best. In a furtive whisper, he revealed that The Storm Stopper was your best bet, provided the arcade had left it on its original factory settings. He assured us the ones here were "cool." The game had lights that ran around the outside in opposite directions and you had to hit the button at just the right spot to win. It looked impossible, but Mike was right; if you calculated tokens in versus coupons won, it was the best deal. It only took a little practice to win a minor jackpot every 5 or 6 times.
We would cheer each win as if Toronto had won the Stanley Cup. I would give a quick fist pump and a full lung "Yes!" while Sarah would jump up and down screaming, "WhoooHooo!" Of course, in the end, when we cashed in, "Mike's secret" only bumped us up from a key-chain flashlight to a "deluxe" nail beauty set. Mind you, it did come complete with clippers, scissors, a file AND a cuticle scraper. Not only that, it was all neatly packaged in a paisley-patterned pink and green plastic vinyl case. Mike was so pleased to give us our prize and to be honest, we were thrilled to win it if only to see his broad chicletted smile. It was more of a trophy than a grooming set.
That night, I made reservations for us at a fancy Chinese food restaurant - the Bamboo Garden. When we arrived, we had half-expected renovations of some sort. Instead, the place was immaculate. Gentle pools teeming with goldfish highlighted the epic black and red Ming dynasty decor. Real candles flickered on crisp white tablecloths. Again, the restaurant was virtually ours. The reservations on my part were entirely unnecessary. In fact, as soon as we entered, they knew us by name and guided us directly to our table. A live lounge piano caressed the air, its notes danced vaguely around familiar harmonies until finally, as if prompted by our presence, a song emerged immediately accompanied by the velvet voice of oriental karaoke. It was our song remastered

Hello Knitters! I would love to get your thoughts on a button band situation I have. I'm working on the Patons Must-have Cardigan, a cabled v-neck cardigan knit in pieces from bottom up, and instead of the 2x2 ribbing for the cuffs, button band, etc I did 1x1 ribbing and used a tubular cast on for the sleeves and body.
Now, I'm nearly to the point where I'll be doing the button band/collar. The pattern has you pick up and knit along the fronts and neck (like most cardigan patterns I've seen with a band knit perpendicularly to the sweater body). The obvious answer would be to do it as written (except with the 1x1 rib) and use a tubular bind off. However, I find my tubular bind off is a lot stiffer and not so beautifully stretchy as the tubular cast on. Would it be a bad idea to knit the button band separately (like from the outside edge in toward the sweater to get the tubular cast on at the edge) and attach it? I've seen vertically knit button bands worked separately and seamed onto a sweater, but I couldn't find anything with a perpendicular band (and really why would you in most cases when you can't just pick up those stitches and knit it?).
And then to decide how to attach the button band - I could pick up stitches along the sweater and do a three needle bind off, although runs the risk of being too tight or pick up stitches and graft the button band, though not sure how grafting ribbing to picked up stitches would look or just bind it off and sew it on, which frankly, I'd rather not do after modifying most of the pattern to avoid as much seaming as possible.
Or am I over-complicating this whole thing and should just do the button band the regular way and practice my tubular bind off until it's better?
Hopefully, this is an alright place to ask this and that all made sense. I don't have any irl knitters to bounce this off of, so I really appreciate your thoughts.

Whether you're just starting out or a seasoned pro, having the right golf shoes can make a big difference in your game.
From providing traction and stability to allowing a natural swing, the shoes you wear on the course are an important piece of equipment.
As a beginner, you'll want shoes that offer maximum forgiveness and comfort to help you develop proper technique. More advanced players will likely prioritize performance features like grip, support, and waterproofing. Let's look at some top golf shoe picks for every skill level.
Here is a good List I found On
https://www.amazon.com/Golf-shoes-for-Beginner-Expert

Golf Shoes for Beginners

FootJoy Contours

One of the most recommended starter golf shoes is the FootJoy Contours. These affordable spikeless shoes have great traction from the DuraMax rubber soles. The full-grain leather uppers are waterproof to keep your feet dry. With a classic saddle design, they provide the comfort and stability beginners need.

Adidas Tour360 XT

The Adidas Tour360 XT is another excellent choice for new golfers. These shoes utilize X-Traxion lugs and X-shaped traction bands on the sole for maximum grip. The lightweight mesh and synthetic upper allows breathability. The wide fit option accommodates wider feet as well.

Golf Shoes for Intermediate Players

ECCO Biom H4

As you advance, you'll want more performance from your golf shoes. The ECCO Biom H4 is a premium spikeless shoe that doesn't sacrifice traction. The Michelin rubber outsoles provide incredible grip in any conditions. The Yak leather uppers are durable and waterproof. These shoes also have great support and flexibility for a natural swing.

G Fore Gallivanter

For style on and off the course, the G Fore Gallivanter is a trendy option. These sneaker-inspired shoes have a knit upper for breathability and lightweight cushioning. The spikeless sole still delivers plenty of traction. They come in a variety of colors to show off your personality.

Golf Shoes for Advanced/Pro Players

FootJoy Tour Alpha

When it comes to top-level performance, the FootJoy Tour Alpha is hard to beat. These cleated shoes use the TourLock cleat system for unbeatable grip and stability. The ChromoSkin leather is waterproof and durable. The VNT support provides motion control during your swing.

Nike Air Zoom Infinity Tour

Nike's Air Zoom Infinity Tour shoes are packed with technology to help you play your best. The React foam midsole provides responsive cushioning. The integrated traction pattern enhances grip in any lie or stance. Water-resistant uppers and Zoom Air units ensure comfort for walking 18 holes.
No matter your skill level, having golf shoes designed for the sport can elevate your game. From beginners to pros, focus on traction, waterproofing, support, and comfort to find the right pair for you. With the proper shoes, you'll have more confidence swinging away.