Thank you for this universe!
And many thanks to for being a full co-writer on this project!
Kaeden and Vichee belongs to and I thank them so much for working with us! It was an honor!
Sven belongs to Bjorn the Copper Paladin from Discord. I hope to do more with them in the future, and have tons of fun!
And don’t you worry about that final in the title! We have some news at the end!
[First]- [Prev]- {Next Story!!}

{Is the reason that everything happened to Tarlim in the first place?}

{Only up to the ramps, mostly. Trying to impress upon people the importance of accessibility for those with extenuating circumstances. At least according to the records I have access to.}

{The average person knows as much about his friends as they do about Mike Collins.}
<...Who?>
{Exactly. 20th century human spaceman, was there for their first lunar landing. Didn’t get to put boots on the ground, and nobody remembers his name now.}

{Hell, I didn’t even know about him until I put in a search query of niche historical figures just to give you an example. Yeesh…}

(Program Selected.)
(Resume Selected Media? [Y])
(Playing…)
Archived Closed Circuit Security Video - Establishment: Exterminator’s Office - Dawn Creek Division - Subbasement - Date Recorded (ST): OCT 31, 2136 - Timeframe (ST): 11:42 - 11:45
The parking bay is silent. Vans are parked neatly in their spots which frame the hallway to the armory and fuel storage for the camera. A ding is heard and something moves in the hallway. Five fully suited Venlil and a Zurulian step out of an elevator and run towards a van. The sound of a door slamming open comes from the hall roughly 6 seconds later. A stream of Exterminators pour out into the hall from the stairwell.
Their voices are indecipherable as they speak over each other. A Sulian runs into the armory and reappears with a huge flamer tank on their back. Another Zurulian can be seen with an extinguisher tank, but a Venlil bleats at them and tosses it aside. They drag the quadrupedal alien quickly into the parking garage before physically throwing them into the back of a van.
From the back of the hallway, a fluid can be seen spreading across the ground. A trio of Venlil back out of a room while holding their flamers up. They are unlit, instead spewing fuel out of their nozzles. The trio twirl around in an overly animated manner as they walk down the hall to the parking garage. A van pulls out of its spot with windows down so the passengers could let out a cheer.
A black-suited Venlil runs up to the spraying trio while waving their arms to get them out into the garage. The microphone just barely manages to catch him saying, “We need to save some for the predators!” One of the other Venlil replies, “Yes sir, Mafchi!” A short flurry of curses is heard as the gathered exterminators pile into the three other visible vans. Two of the vans speed out of the garage, forcing some other Venlil exterminators to dive out of the way in the process.
The black-suited Mafchi picks up a fuel canister that had been dropped and twists off its cap. He slings it under his shoulder and pours a line of fuel. He marches straight to the final van and hops up into the open rear. The van backs itself up to turn out of the garage. The fuel canister clatters to the ground as it pulls away. Before it clears the view of the camera, the Black-suited Venlil is seen standing in its open back. He is holding what appears to be a flare gun.
The flare sails through the air shortly after the van leaves the frame and impacts the ground. It bounces and rolls until it touches the fuel and ignites it in an instant. A small wall of fire proceeds down the provided trail into the hallway, igniting more fuel as time passes. The hallway is quickly engulfed in vividly red fire. Thick black smoke begins to pour out into the garage as the fire inches closer to the primary fuel tank.
Movement can be seen in the hallway between the flickering flames. The silver form of a Venlil Exterminator is seen rushing out of the stairwell and fighting to head towards the fuel storage room. Before they reach, a white flash fills the screen. The feed goes dead, the error code consistent with electrical interruption.
(Specified Media Concluded.)

{Who was what? Mafchi?}

{Hmmm, there aren’t any tags embedded for them. The suits do a rather good job at making the officers anonymous. Let me see…oh.}

{The, uh… the employment records for that Office were…terminated.}

{It looks like…yes, here. Record wipe in 2497. Media with less than 1 bistandannual visit were removed to save space on the university’s central server. It’s…they’re gone, gone gone.}

{Maybe, but that’ll do us no good if we don’t know their name. And because of the chaos of that incident, nobody has been able to accurately reconstruct where every individual was in that office. We’d have to already know who they were to find them.}
<...I guess that’s another person I’ll have to remember then, huh?>
{...Guess so. Speaking of remembering, perhaps you should check out Tarlim’s view again? Seeing how we were just talking about him.}
<...Sure. At least people remember his name, right?>
(Command: [exitprogram])
(Are you sure? [Y])
…
{-Program Selected-}
{-Restart From Last Playback Point? Y/(N)-}
{-[USERID-11229KMD]: procViewHist -}
{-Retrieving Transcription Viewing History…-}
{-List Retrieved - Select Desired Subject: (Tarlim)-}
{-Restart From Last Playback Point? (Y)/N-}
{-Playing…-}
Memory Transcription Subject: Tarlim, the Venbig. Date [Standardized Human Time] October 31st, 2136
No matter how much Sven and Anso griped about it, having them leave and return with the trailer was a great idea. The humans who had gone with them the first time were, to my dismay, excited to try and ride in the back. I had at least been able to impress on those four that I couldn’t let anyone else ride like that, and that they were to help with rigging a trailer with some seats.
I had to admit; they did a good job!
Several couches sat bolted to the floor of the covered trailer and even had some ropes that could be hooked across the armrests as impromptu belts. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it would work as well as any bus or short train ride! Certainly superior to jumping in the bed of a truck.
I strode out into the parking road and swayed my ears to greet Anso. Sven had stayed behind here to meet with the humans and entertain the kids, a job which he was slightly less unenthusiastic about compared to last time. “Greetings, Anso! Have you made the necessary preparations for the humans to leave with you?”
The Yotul hopped out of the truck bed and bounced to me. “We have! I have to say those humans were great workers to have helped get this whipped up so quickly! I hope Sven has been behaving himself?”
I let my tail wag behind me remembering my last glimpse of him. He should really secure his sheath straps! “He has! Been entertaining the refugees while I made sure they all had their belongings ready to go. Come on inside, let’s go gather them.”
I guided him with a wave of my arm as we turned back to the door. To be truthful, I hadn’t expected Sven to win the humans over as quickly as he did. Needless to say, his primitive attire seemed to spark joy within them, a joy sorely needed amidst the sadness of recency.
As we entered the building I noticed something, or rather, the lack of something. When I had exited only a few [minutes] prior, the building had been full of life and noise. Now, it was almost dead quiet, save for the sounds of a holovision coming from the lobby. Rather heated sounds, at that.
“I didn’t think it was already main rest claw,” Anso mused as he, too, recognized the aggravated voices coming from the lobby. “And what are they watching in there? Sounds…angry.”
“Yeah…” I trailed off as I followed the noises. As I approached the lobby, the sound of what I assumed was a Gojid yelling. “You know nothing about my family. TALK, JUST FUCKING TALK, NOW!” My ears pinned back at the foul language at play, hoping that Sven and the children were somewhere else.
As I entered the room, I saw that I was only half right. The children were thankfully nowhere to be found, but Sven was obviously present, as was most of the facility staff. I was about to ask what was going on before another voice drew my attention to the holovision, the same as everyone else. The voice of none other than Chief Nikonus.
“There were three of us who laid out the groundwork for the Federation. When Kolshian explorers came in contact with the Farsul, more than a thousand years ago, the galaxy was young. We were the first in this sector to escape our gravity well. You know about the founding of this institution, but I reiterate it just in case.”
“The Krakotl were the third,” another voice piped up from behind the camera. I thought it might’ve been another Gojid, but the voice was far too breathy. Harchen, maybe? I wasn’t given a chance to consider it further as Nikonus continued. “Yes, they were a problem from the start; aggressive, disagreeable. We tried to identify the problem, and why they were so ill-equipped for spacefaring.”
“We learned they were scavengers, who would occasionally go for fish as well.”
His next line was rendered inaudible by the shocked gasps of both the refugees and residents in the room. I was no different, drawing in a sharp breath at the abrupt admission. I remembered that Arvi had said some aliens were revealed to have eaten meat in the past, but was this the way it was decided to be revealed? With such abject callousness?
Nikonus continued to speak, looking not just proud, but smug with his words. He went on about how the Federation had saved these aliens with their manipulations, but the entirety of his body language seemed to indicate he reveled in how devastating this information would be to the people he was speaking to. How they manipulated an entire culture, a RELIGION!
What if they did the same to ours?
That horrifying thought struck through my mind like a derailing train. I had relied upon the Tenets in some of my darkest moments. Found comfort in them when there was none elsewhere to be found. To have such a comfort revealed as a lie in its entirety, used only for some other group to control you…
The voice of Nikonus hit my ears again. “Oh Sovlin, I already told you. For the small minority of species who don’t find herbivory alone, we teach them the right way. Doesn’t the religion against predators sound familiar?”
The Kolshian was insufferably proud of those words. There was no doubt in my mind now; this was mocking. Mocking a Gojid for following The Protector. For being a predator. For being different, but expecting to still be treated as a person. The Gojid were predators, they couldn’t help it, and they were already being mocked for it.
What might happen to all the other species?
I shifted my focus away from the screen to the crowd, searching for one in particular. Vichee, a Krakotl already so different from everyone else, and now my concerns for them were multiplied with every word that fell from Nikonus’ mouth. Were they okay? They had come in here to see Sven, I had seen them. Where are-
I spotted Kaeden in the corner of the room. Next to him, slumped against the wall, was Vichee. The dual colored Krakotl’s eyes were glazed over as they stared at nothing. I strode over quickly, my instincts wanting to comfort them. Kaeden was simply standing there, it was confusing that he didn’t seem to be comforting Vichee at all. As I got closer, their head tilted up to me, regarding me with an unfocused eye.
“He was right.” They said quietly. My implant almost didn’t pick it up over the sounds of the lobby. “Kaeden had asked me soon after our first meeting if Krakotl had once been meat eaters. Said it was the shape of our beaks. ‘More suited to capturing small wriggling prey than filtering algae’. He told me. I nearly flew away right then… If I had, I would have been alone with this news.”I listened, kneeling down to be closer to their level. “You’re not alone, your herd is here. Right Kaeden?”
He looked over at me and nodded. “Vichee was there with me when Earth was attacked. I’m here for them now. Kaabra and Venik are… together, elsewhere at the moment. But they will be here too.”
I flicked my ears in understanding. “Then I hope they may help in hugging Vichee until their tears are dry.” I turned an eye to Vichee. “Please, I just want you to know that you are still you. What your body does has no effect on your personhood.”
Vichee still sat, their mind still likely whirling with the new information. They lifted their differently colored wings. “I’m well aware. This lesson I already learned. But thank you, I understand what you mean.” Kaeden nodded slowly and Vichee returned to their thoughts.
“There’s going to be trouble soon, Tarlim,” Kaeden stated gravely. “News like this? Nothing good will come of it. I can already tell this won’t go over well. Keep your eyes open.”
As if in response to his words, the sound of clanking metal hits my ears. They shoot up, pivoting to locate its source. There, dashing towards the door, was the armored figure of Sven. I didn’t know him enough to know how this broadcast would affect him, but running was never the best sign. I flicked my ears goodbye to my friends and rose, following after the metal man. In my periphery, I saw the television screen had shifted to show Rolem moving onto the stage. I would have to miss whatever it was he had to say, so ducked through the doors and continued to follow the sound of metal.
As I exited, I saw that I wasn’t the only one to see Sven’s actions. Anso was bounding behind him, shouting something I couldn’t hear. Sven didn’t seem to either as he kept running, but his gait wasn’t one of fear. He looked purposeful, sprinting in a straight line. A line pointed right towards-
Towards the observing Exterminator Van.
The metal Venlil didn’t even hesitate at the presence of the fence. He leapt up in a display of strength and agility, vaulting over the barrier and continuing his beeline into the van. It was like phased through the doors with how fast he moved. There were sounds of commotion that followed his entry, and soon two Exterminators fell out of the van. One Venlil…and one Krakotl. I wonder how Kalek is taking things.
I, too, cleared the fence with only a high step and reached the van, peering in to see Sven at the controls. “Sven! What are you doing?” I asked, the Krakotl officer shivering on the ground in my periphery.
“They got my girl!” He huffed, “She’s a Gojid, they got her, I can’t let them do anything worse to her!” He tried to activate the vehicle to no avail, but his words brought up something that I hadn’t thought much over. I remember hearing about temporary emplacements that were being set up. Paly had texted me about exterminators bringing people there. Her too. And that would mean-
-THOOOOOOOMMMMM-
The wind hit me like a truck and rocked the van I was standing next to. Sven even stopped trying to fiddle with the controls to see what had just happened. In the distance, near the center of town, an enormous black cloud rose into the air, the vestiges of fire still burning in the suspended embers. I couldn’t look away from it as my mind raced with horrible possibilities as my mind tripped over itself trying to concoct a plan of action.
I wasn’t given long to think before the radio in the van crackled to life, startling both Sven and myself. “Attention all True Exterminators! The truth has come out about the taint in our midst! For too long we have lived with its danger in our presence! If any of you still hold the safety of The Herd in your hearts, come join us so we may burn ALL the predator taint from this District! Rendezvous at Vulen’s apartment complex, we shall start our cleansing there!”
The name of one of my landlords sparked familiarity in my mind. They had been working to build a series of new apartments to add to his old, and if I remembered, had agreed to house the Gojid refugees. The Gojid! Paly was housed with them!!
In an instant, I reached into the van and grabbed Sven by the arm. He tried to pull away, but my grip was too strong. “Sven! They’re gonna kill the Gojid! They’re gonna burn Paly!”
He finally managed to shake himself free as my paws became jittery from stress. “I gotta save my girlfriend! She’s in a facility! I gotta save her!”
“But they’re gonna burn people here!” I protested, “we have to do something! We need- We need People who can fight them! Kaeden! I need to get Kaeden! We can save them!”
I pulled myself away from the van and spotted Anso nearby. He must have had to go through the gate, but this was good timing. I pointed a claw at him. “Do Not Let Him drive off before I get back!”
I didn’t give him, nor the Exterminators who had recovered from their shock, time to ask questions. Paly was in danger, as were who knew how many others. I faintly heard my data pad chime from within my shoulder bag, the signal my heart was beating too fast, but I couldn’t deal with it right now. I could get the heart rate under control during the drive. Right now I needed Kaeden, he knew how to fight! How to save people when others were trying to kill them!
My paws guided me and I was back in the cafeteria before I knew it. Some of the crowd had dissipated, but Kaeden and Vichee were still in the same corner I had left them in, but with their Venlil friends now joined. Without leaving time for protest, I grabbed Kaeden’s arm and pulled him away. I heard Vichee squawk behind me, but I was in too much of a hurry. I can’t let her get hurt. I Won’t.
Kaeden started to slap my arm as I dragged the soldier across the lobby. “Tarlim! What the fuck are you doing?? What’s going on?”
“No time, they’re going to burn everyone,” I breathlessly said as I burst the facility doors open to get him to the van.
“What? Who?” Kaeden questioned, still resisting my pull. I could hear a tinge of worry in his voice, and I knew he would understand. Anso looked back from his position as he heard my approach, and upon seeing me dragging Kaeden along, he grew visibly concerned.
“On the radio, something about True Exterminators,” I attempted to explain to him as we neared the gate doors. This time, I simply spread them apart with my free paw, metal screeching against itself as the gate was forced open. “They’re going to burn every cured species they can find, and That Means Paly. I Won’t Let Them.”
Kaeden had stopped struggling as I explained the bare essentials to him, and once we approached the van, he finally had enough sense to ask the right questions. “So what exactly is the plan to stop them? We’re strong, sure, I could probably take most of them. But just two of us against a wall of those flamers?”
“Not two,” I corrected, letting go of his arm and throwing open the back doors of the van. Still seated in the drivers side was Sven, who looked back once he heard me permit entrance into the back. “We have him too.”
“Wh- the LARPer??” Kaeden asked incredulously. I wasn’t familiar with the term he used, but his tone told us all we needed to know. Sven’s eyes narrowed at the perceived insult, but Kaeden continued. “Do either of you have any formal military training?? Rushing down there is only going to get you both killed along with the others! For fucks sake, slow down! We need a plan!”
“T-There won’t be t-time f-for one,” a voice peeped in from behind us. We all turned to face the source, and we found it was the Venlil Exterminator. They recoiled under the sudden gaze of our entire party, but they managed to continue. “I-I recognized the v-voice. It w-was one of the n-new recruits. They m-might as well be Y-Yulpa. If you w-want to stop them, it’s now or n-never.”
We all stared at them for a moment in disbelief that they’d willingly hand over that information to us. They were Exterminators, weren’t they? They should be allied with the voice on the radio! Kaeden, after considering the information, gave voice to my confusion. “And why are you telling us this? You’re an exterminator, shouldn’t you be trying to help them?”
“M-My husband is the Krakotl that was in the van with me!” They yelled back, stamping their footpaw on the ground in agitation. “I-I don’t care what his ancestors did a t-thousand years ago, I will not stand for those zealots burning who knows how many people! We’re not all the same, h-human!”
I was taken aback by their words. I had given up hope that there were any redeemable souls amongst the ranks of those silver-suited brahkasses, but living proof of the contrary stood before us. Their breathing was only matched by mine as my pad continued to chime in my pack. Maybe there’s hope after all.
Kaeden started frantically looking all around, his focused gaze falling on the facility, the exterminator in front of us, and the rising smoke in the distance. After a moment's hesitation, he growled to himself and shook his head. “Fine! Fucking- if you want to prove you’re different, you and your partner stand guard at the gate! They’ll probably try to send a division here, so keep on guard! And for the love of God, go ask for help if that happens!”
My tail wagged behind me as I interpreted what that meant. “So you’ll help us, Kaeden?”
He paused for a second, an agonizing second as he fully took in the situation in his mind. But ultimately, he nodded. “Let’s go, we can figure things out along the way.”
Seizing the moment, Anso quickly jumped into the van and pushed Sven out of the driver's seat, much to their visible frustration. Kaeden quickly hopped into the passenger seat, leaving me with the problem of finding a space that would fit me. I stepped over to the back of the van and threw the doors open.
The flamers and their fuel tanks were useless to us, easy to toss all three sets out onto the ground behind me. I made sure that the flamers were disabled first, of course. Just had to snap the pilot lighters and slice a hose with my claw. Even if these two said they weren’t like these “True Exterminators” I didn’t trust them one bit. I crawled inside the cramped vehicle and wiggled myself to close the doors behind me.
As I got myself settled, I watched as the Venlil Exterminator started to inspect the destroyed remains of their weapons. I squinted a glare at them and positioned myself so they couldn’t enter with me. “You two aren’t coming,” I hissed. “You know why you’re not. Try anything with the humans, and they will stop you.”
I slammed the doors shut as their expressions fell, just in time for Anso to get the van into gear. I curled myself up against the wall of the van, watching out the back window as we sped down the road. We were on our way now. On our way to save Paly and all the people gathered because their ancestors ate meat. My heart hammered in my chest, but I would need to control it for what we were about to do. I needed to focus. I needed to breathe. I needed to be calm.
Focus. Breathe. Calm
Focus.
Breathe.
Calm…
{-ALERT: Automatic Annotation Detected - Switching Transcription Subject-}
{-Loading…Playback Ready-}
{-Playing…-}
Memory Transcription Subject: Sol-Vah, Fleeing Predator. Date [Standardized Human Time] October 31st, 2136
My legs couldn’t carry me anymore. I had to keep going, but I didn’t have the strength. My pants became wheezes as my body struggled to keep up with the physical exertion of running almost halfway through town. I hadn’t even looked up before now, at least with eyes not blinded by tears. The pain of Mute’s rejection still stung in my soul, a pain so visceral it threatened to rip me apart worse than any Arxur. Protector, what did I do to deserve this? Is there even a Protector, or did the Federation just- just make that up?
I didn’t have time to think about that now, I needed to get to the office. From what little I caught of the broadcast, Nikonus had said they saved us before. I knew what it likely was, but…I was desperate. I just wanted to go back home and have him embrace me like he did before. The safety and love I had felt from him was still fresh in my mind, and if there was any chance I had to get it back?
I’ll happily take it.
As I approached the office, however, something seemed off. I could smell soot in the air, but not the kind of soot that came from our flamers. This was- was…dirtier smelling, as if the fuel had been impure. Upon looking up, however, I saw something that made my stomach drop. A huge plume of smoke, billowing up into the sky. It shadowed the sun itself with its immensity and hate. Did the Exterminators burn more drugs? Or…or…
I felt a renewed vigor as I started to run towards the plume, hoping against hope that I was wrong. As soon as I turned the corner, though, my worst fears were realized. Where the office once stood now sat a burning stack of glorified rubble, every single window in sight shattered and multiple holes in the outer walls. The building was split, it was as if a giant knife had come down and sloppily sliced off its front half to spill flaming debris everywhere.
I stood in front of the building I had once called my home, surrounded by screams and the awful sound of flames roaring. I knew now there was no hope of salvation, no way this could ever be undone. I would never be able to go back to the way things were, never feel the happiness I had for that brief time. I was doomed to this life, abandoned by my love, and forced to live as an abomination devoid of a home.
I suppose that’s all a predator like me deserves.
[First]- [Prev]- {Next Story!!}
You read it right: This is going to be the final chapter of "Of Giants and Journalists." With the conclusion of Sharnet and Vekna's adventure, we will now take the time to show how this announcement has affected our characters and the galaxy at large. We're excited to announce our new series, Nature of a Giant: Aftermath! This series will not be quite as in-depth temporally as Of Giants and Journalists was, mainly because not as much will be happening in as short of a time. Rest assured, though, there will still be plenty of action across the board! You just won't have to deal with over half the story only covering a week of time!
In that vein, we are also excited to announce we are working on another bonus series, one that was teased a long time ago, Venric Lawven: Legal Legend! It will be filling the gap for content while we work on the first few chapters of Aftermath to make sure the scenes are as quality as they deserve, but will have a reduced upload schedule to once a week to accommodate for writing two series at once. On behalf of both of myself and , we'd like to thank all of our readers for sticking with us on this journey. It's hard to believe this series has been going on for over a year in one form or another, but I wouldn't have it any other way! Thank you all again for your continued support, and we look forward to seeing you again with Legal Legends! And then...
The Aftermath!!

I bring this up as Shout by Tears for Fears is playing in my ears. As I listen to the impactful yelling, all I can think about is a bad 90s ad for Shout, an American stain cleaner. The lyrics then change for me into:
Shout, Shout, Gets the stains out, This is the grime that we could without, Come on, Roland Orzabal looks down at a animated stain with an evil grin I’m talking to you! mullet romantically swaying, fist pump COME ON!
Post your songs below!

preface: this is compilation of tips that i feel get undermentioned in general guides and that i wish i knew when i started playing, from my personal experience as a casual player who has been playing for less than a year. it is NOT comprehensive guide.
i refer to casual players as anyone who doesn't regularly (NOT the same as frequently) play the game, doesn't take part in every event, generally doesn't bother with more complicated techniques, etc.
feel free to share any tips you also wish you knew as a beginner and i'll try to add as many as i can (with credit of course)!

non-gameplay

• this game is NOT beginner friendly.
  • premium boxes cost A LOT and there is no pity/guarantee system**.
  • it's fun and the tsums are cute though so like
• therefore, PLANNING AHEAD and PRE-FARMING COINS are key to obtaining your desired tsums.
  • someone will usually post the following month's calendar near the end of the month which shows all the tsum available that following month and their availability periods.
  • u/MalibuDan posts monthly tsum evaluations at the start of every month as well, VERY HELPFUL in deciding whether or not to pull for a specific tsum.
• finish the colouring book cards for max skill level gadget hackwrench.
  • this will be your best coin farming tsum at the start, and if you just get unlucky trying to get a better one.
• LINK YOUR LINE ACCOUNT AND ADD FRIENDS. this subreddit has a monthly line id thread for this.
  • adding friends through line is ESSENTIAL to maintaining a steady supply of hearts.
  • linking your line account also just ensures you never lose your progress as long as you have your line account.
• many recommended tsums require a certain skill level to start functioning optimally.
  • the specific skill level is not always explicitly mentioned, do your own research.
  • there are a lot of videos on yt showcasing tsums at different levels that are helpful for this.
• only invest in the skill level of tsums you are comfortable using.
  • no matter how recommended a tsum is, if you are not comfortable using it, it will perform less efficiently than one you are comfortable with.
  • skill leveling is exponential. don't waste precious skill tickets or coins on pulling dupes unless you're sure you will be using the tsum.
• a lot of skill descriptions DO NOT list the full skill. DO YOUR RESEARCH.
  • e.g. anakin tsum skill description ONLY mentions the short tap for to clear multiple lines of tsums (short chains, good for generating bubbles) and does NOT mention the long directional tap to clear significantly larger line of tsums and bubbles (bigger chain, more score+exp+coins)
  • a good indicator you might be missing something is if the tsum is severely under-performing compared to reviews.
• yes, you should raise your all your tsums' (score) levels.
  • the score level refers to the amount of base score points you gain when clearing that specific tsum. chain multiplier calculates off that tsum's base score points.
  • it's necessary to avoid struggling with score-based missions down the line, especially since tsums aside from my tsum are selected at random.
  • the level 5 and level 10 cap cost 2k coins to unlock and increase beyond that. max level is 50.
• tsums are categorised. my tsum will significantly decrease the chance of spawning tsums in the same category for each game.
  • e.g. general colours, round/pointed ears, wears a hat/crown/etc, princess/queen/villain/etc, animals, tsums with variations (mickey, cabbage mickey, daruma mickey, etc), series/franchise (frozen, winnie the pooh, pixar, etc) etc etc etc
  • this is more relevant for clearing tsum missions that do not require a specific my tsum.
    • specific my tsum missions will provide a list of tsums you can use and will indicate before starting a game if the current my tsum cannot be used for the mission.

**there technically is a guarantee system in that, if you max out a tsum's skill level, they will be removed from the pool. needless to say, it will take VERY LONG to reach any sort of guarantee.

actual gameplay

• the try again button in the pause menu simply ends the game. bonus items are NOT refunded.
  • saves time if you mess up and know you won't be able to complete a mission.
• accuracy > speed.
  • avoids wasting time possibly fumbling chains
  • longer chains give more score+exp+COINS
• save bubbles to trigger fever time or to spawn new tsums for easier / better chains.
  • triggering fever time adds +5sec to the timer.
  • whether you use gyro or the fan button, repositioning tsums wastes precious time that could be spent on clearing tsums.
• if you regain your skill right as the timer is ending:
  • if the skill clears tsums (i.e. burst, clears lines, etc), use it before the timer ends.
    • last bonus skill picks a tsum to clear at random, possibly clearing the least number of tsums. using your skill will almost always give you more rewards.
  • if the skill does not clear tsums (i.e. friend-calling tsum), leave it for last bonus after the timer ends.
    • you might not have time to clear any tsums after activating the skill and the skill value will be wasted.
    • exception is time stopping/adding skills.
• if you are close to completing a mission, it's cheaper to extend the timer (5 rubies) than to make the mission easier (10 rubies) in the card menu.
  • of course, this only applies if you only need a bit more to complete the mission, otherwise making the mission easier cuts the mission goal a significant amount.
• only use +coin bonus item if you can guarantee 1k+ coin score.
  • simple math, you break even or gain less than not using it otherwise.
  • basic probability, chances of getting a high multiplier is possible but extremely low. it's also just a waste for the chance to occur with a low coin score.
• some skill tickets (most importantly 5>4) are discounted near the end of the month.
  • this is an optimal time to farm especially if you have a good coin farming tsum.
  • it's also a good time for completing harder missions as 5>4 helps in multiple aspects.

i hope this will prove to be helpful to someone! and please let me know if i've made any errors!
i will try to keep adding tips if/when they occur to me or someone offers a good one, so again feel free to share your own!

First/Previous
Gemma was right about the sky’s open night, and I could sympathize with her recollection of the beauty, but for me it must’ve been a greater tragedy—the young woman had only ever enjoyed the stars in the pits of Golgotha; I could, long before, drink in the sky at leisure. Cruel memories.
The night the Rednecks died was one of viscera, but before that it was coolness on the breeze, a warmth by the fires while John played his guitar and we had only just taken two dozen kegs of lager (personal reserves) from the Atlanta despot—the man that kept his subjects as slaves and not a person among the camp was left without budding intoxication. No matter the age, everyone was invited to be merry; if it was that children too faced the plight of a bad world, then so too should they reap the moments of plenty—or so the camp figured.
John had taken a group by the fires where wagons were drawn in interlocking semicircles for cover and Jackson sat beside the picker. Jackson was a man which normally preferred quiet reflection over boisterous singing and nearly never wore the band on his throat, and yet there he was belting out the chorus at the top of his lungs, tankard in hand, red cloth blazed around his neck—it was a contagion and those drunk enough for easier embarrassment sang proudly along:
“There is power, there is power in a band of working folk!
When we stand hand in hand,
That’s a power, that’s the power,
That must rule in every land!”
I’d taken to the outlying shadows with my back pressed against the gas-powered caleche, my own tankard in hand. I loved the warmth of that great big family, truly, but even in those days—and maybe it was that queer youthfulness which longed for individualism that made me that way then—I remained as distanced as possible when I could. I sipped the lager, it was a fine drink and my brother Billy, nearly as old as I was when I’d first taken up in the infantry, swaggered to stand beside me just as quiet for minutes and we looked at the stars and he asked me what it was like to kill a man.
“Is it hard?” he asked.
I nodded, “Sometimes.”
“Killing monsters ain’t so bad. Don’t know if I could do it to a person.”
“You could if they meant to kill you; or if they meant to do it to someone you cared about,” I promised him. In those days, spry, energized, I held no time for staring into abysses; though I still wasn’t a man fully, I pretended as one. It was about family, and it was about doing what was right—what’s right seemed to change, or I changed. The world felt stark with good and evil and even later I’d feel that sentiment well up in me, but if that’s true, I know I stand more on the latter and so I intentionally obfuscated it—this I know. If not, it might be too much to bear. I was required to lie to myself and even in knowing I lied, it was better.
Billy tugged on the red kerchief around his throat and asked me how it looked on him.
“Looks good,” I said.
“Don’t think I look stupid at all?”
I smiled over my drink, “You always look stupid.” I sipped. “The neckwear’s fine.”
“Give me a break,” said Billy; he investigated his own cup, gave it a swish with his wrist, watching its contents swirl. “Aren’t you ever afraid you’ll die?”
“Sometimes—nights like this—I wouldn’t mind it.”
“Really?” my brother asked.
“There’s always a chance of it. Every moment, I guess.”
He smiled. “I wish I had that confidence.”
“You’ll get it,” I returned his smile; it was true that he would gain the fighting spirit. It came to us all with time and reminiscing on the early days, I recall the grit and the hatred—there was learning there too though. Besides, I’d seen the squalors of a stationary man. The stagnation of a place, an unmoving home.
John put his guitar away and laughter erupted from the crowd from something said and Sibylle, cowboy hat cocked funny, traipsed across the camp to the open keg for a refill; the man there, tending the cylinders, was a man named Tandy (a foreigner and one unknown besides the way he smoked a skunk pipe and told wild stories). My mother leaned over while Tandy opened the spigot mouth on the keg, and she froze there, and I could see her there cut out forever against the light of the fires; I watched, and it came so suddenly that I couldn’t be sure what’d happened at all. It was so sudden that I couldn’t find my weapon and I couldn’t find even the courage to fight because in those moments it wasn’t courage I needed, it was grounds to understand.
Sibylle came apart in two pieces immediately, torn completely through and dust erupted as her legs struck the ground while her torso spun through the air like a top, a trail of liquid trailed after, caught in the blue of night so it shone as black; she couldn’t scream. Tandy was a statue. Before anyone could react, more flesh, other bodies, went up and there was all manner of limbs which filled the ground, and it is astounding how quickly a red mist forms across the ground during a massacre. Perhaps the wails of my comrades started before, perhaps others fell before Sibylle, but I could not comprehend the goings-on till I saw her drop the way she did.
Frail human screams rose on the night; I slammed to the ground, tankard gone away and hands scrambling in the dirt; I reached up blindly and yanked Billy to my level and his expression was one of innocence, panic, tears even. Glancing around, I saw the demons bolt from the pitch-black darkness on the edges of camp, mutants taking the fore while greater creatures lurked further back, some hurled whips of gliding metal which writhed over their heads when they stretched them out for a strike—alien—and they sliced directly through soft human bodies. Not even a cry escaped me, but Billy let go with it and I slapped my cupped hand over his mouth hard to hold the screams. His voice would not have been alone anyway, not alongside that startling cacophony. Amidst the cries of people, there were the cries of horses, of our hounds.
We rolled across the ground, slipped beneath the raised body of the gas-powered caleche, remained quiet in the dark, peeked out between the wheels.
“What’s happening?” Billy whispered through my fingers; I removed my hand from him and caught a glimpse of him framed in a square of firelight through the wheels—we lay there on our bellies and the left side of his face was glazed with dirt where I’d pulled him down.
“Shh,” I told him, “Shh, please. Please.” Not another word came while I pleaded with him, pleaded with the world to make this all a nightmare.
Through the haze and the running silhouettes painted black, I saw what might have been Jackson; he stumbled and in the moment that it took me to gasp, his head was gone from his body, his torso slid on as he collapsed, came to rest mere feet from the motor wagon. I told myself that it wasn’t him, but it probably was.
Some mutants lumbered through the camp like animated corpses, some leapt with wild energy or sprayed noxious fumes which lingered in the air; others still were amalgams of humanlike limbs themselves—fiends—exhausting terrible sounds, producing smells of sulfur, glistening with whatever liquids excreted from their oblong alien orifices. Demons ran amok, chanted in devil tongued languages, laughed madly at the destruction—others still, those which displayed some greater intelligence, broke into a song I could never hope or want to replicate; it seemed a unified damnation.
“Please,” I repeated in a whimper and Billy hushed me this time and I realized we were holding hands, squeezing for dear life as figures walked the camp, speared those half-alive, elected others for twisted carnality.
In darkness, in fright plainly, we scuttled from the recess of our hiding place, kept quiet, held to each other, and went into the wasteland where nothing was—every shadow was a potential threat, every second could’ve been the last. We were holding hands; then we weren’t.
Only a glance—that’s all I afforded my brother and nothing more—what a joke of a person I am! What a coward I was. Always.
Something got him in the dark and instead of dying alongside those I cared about, I went on, heartbeat driving me till it was all that I heard in my ears and my muscles ached and my chest heaved and sweat covered me, chilled me in the breeze of the night—it was only once I’d accepted the dark completely, crawled into a hollowed space of rocks along a squat ridge that I watched the demolished camp; it seemed no larger than a spark, but the creatures, fiends and others continued their war cries; never before had I witnessed demons participate in such an attack.
I watched till the sun came, till the fires became smoke, then I watched the band of hell creatures disband. The smell of sulfur remained in the air—copper too—and I stumbled back to the camp in a dreamlike daze, totally unbelieving of the things I saw. Among those dead on the ground, I could recognize none; among those piked from rear to shoulder, standing like morbid scarecrows where they’d been steadied against the ground, I could not want to recognize.
Many of the wagons were overturned, including the gas-powered caleche and I went to it; the metal of its body was warped but I fell to the ground by it and pushed my back against the exposed undercarriage, remained frozen there while examining the bodies, the terrible strips of skin which rested places like wet sheets of paper, the piles of bones removed and smashed and piled.
I cried so deeply that oxygen became a memory, and the shakes couldn’t be contained.
It was like that for so long, knees pulled up, face pushed between, and the wails came unafraid of whatever attention they might garner; there was no rationale, but I imagine if there had been, I would’ve welcomed death in that misery. It was a deep wound that not even my own cowardice would overcome for the sake of survival.
Unaware of my surroundings, not wanting to look up from the ground between my legs, the noise which had started out as imaginary became real and I raised my head then to listen better and wipe my sore eyes; it was the sound of clip-clop horse hooves and I mildly wondered if any of the animals had been spared. I stood and pivoted around the dead camp and there it was, a man on a painted horse with golden hair; he leisurely drove the mount through the place, maneuvering around pools of blood, clumps of body parts and upon seeing me, he smiled and offered a languid wave, keeping one of his gloved hands on the reins.
The man wore white and swished his hair back upon arriving directly in front of me. Ahoy, he offered kindly, Did you happen to see the other riders?
I shook my head, feeling numb.
Ah, he said, I could have sworn four other riders, at least, passed me on my way. His gray eyes examined the carnage. Shame. He shook his head. You are?
“H-harlan.”
He nodded and nearly offered an expression of genuine condolence before descending from the horse; the animal gave a gentle grunt and wandered away from its master to inspect a nearby group of the dead. The man offered his hand, and I took it in a shake. Mephisto, said the man. He flashed a smile again before his face grew serious. I’ve come to you to deal.
I shot him a questioning look, one of bafflement.
I heard your calls from far off. He nodded, removed a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and swiped it down his face. Hot out. He shrugged then replaced the cloth in his pocket. This, he motioned to the disarray of vehicles, of bodies, I can’t fix all this—it’s too much—but there’s a person you love, I know. I could bring them back.
“Doctor?” In retrospect it was such a naïve question.
He shook his head.
“Angel?”
He grinned and nodded, Sure.
“Demon?”
Undoubtedly. His eyes—pits of gray in that radiant face—nearly expressed solemness; he daintily shook the hair from his face and looked at his steed which sniffed a corpse. What’s the word, Harlan? There are others calling and I must be on my way soon—I can’t dally. There was a sharpness to the words. Can’t dally. We must convene soon, or I’ll mosey on.
I snorted back the clog in my nose from the tears and wiped my eyes with my sleeves. “Okay.”
Deal?
I nodded, “Deal.”
Sleep tonight, said Mephisto, Sleep and you’ll be rewarded in the morning.
“You said it’s a deal.”
He nodded and scanned the carnage before we matched gazes and then he said, Yes?
“What is it you want from me?”
Nothing you need now. He called the horse, and it came, and he swept his feet quickly from the ground and settled into position atop the animal. Sleep, Harlan. You won’t be bothered. There are worse things still over the horizon.
I watched him go till he disappeared and once he was gone, I couldn’t cry anymore and instead rummaged through the wagons for what I might carry; along the way I found John, face twisted but corpse intact. The body from the previous night that I’d guessed was Jackson couldn’t be determined but I found him nowhere else. I slid Sibylle’s holster from her hips, fell hard onto the ground and found that I could sob more. I took her cowboy hat, placed it on my head and held her pistol in one hand and the belt holster dangled from the other while I searched the other bodies; there were so many, but I could not find Billy.
Waiting for darkness, I took the spot where I rested, back against the caleche’s undercarriage, watched the sky and felt the gun in my hand; it was heavy. I put it to my head, closed my eyes, and whispered affirmations to myself then I put the pistol between my splayed legs, watched it still in the dirt, and pulled the hat down over my eyes but it did little for the smell. Though the brim of the hat cut the sky out, I watched the ground and saw circling shadows form overhead and heard calls of turkey vultures; they came to pick over the bodies. I withdrew my knees to my chest there again and laid my forearm across them and bit into my arm while closing my eyes. I had thought I was a man and for a time, maybe I was, but there in that miserable pit of despair I became a child again and if I’d become more delirious, I’m sure I might’ve called out for Jackson like it was a bad dream.
Into a fading stupor of sleep in the sun I went and when I awoke again it was dark and chilly and I was tired and hungry but too sick to eat and hardly strong enough to move; I looked at the gun and put it into its holster and left it there by the caleche. In the light of the moon and stars, I moved to gather a bolt of canvas; I unfurled the fabric and created a leaning shelter against the overturned vehicle and crawled into it. There was a hole in the canvas, and I peeked out at the stars.
Weeping came again, but not so uproarious; I was stuck there letting go of whimpers, lying on my back, feeling the tears trace in lines from the outer corners of my eyes to collect along my earlobes. In time, I fell to sleep again on the hard ground because the mourning had taken all else from me.
A pinpoint of sunlight broke my eyelids and I jerked awake and reached for the holster, but it was gone. So was the hat. I crawled from the leaning shelter and there he was.
Billy stood plainly among the dried, congealed blood-soaked field and he looked on to the horizon and all shadows were long in the midday sun which hung up there in a soft blue sky. Whether it be a dream or a spell, I couldn’t care—I charged to him and spun him so he faced me and though his face was plain and expressionless, I wrapped him into a forceful hug. He placed his hands on my back and gave a gentle squeeze; when I pulled from him, my hands on his shoulders, I saw he held Sibylle’s hat in his left hand, pinched by the brim; he’d already tugged her holster belt around his hips—he could have it all. I shook while holding him then let go to wipe my face.
“You’re alive,” I nodded.
He nodded without speaking then looked at the hat in his hand and placed it on his head and firmly pressed it down.
“Billy! Hell, you’re alive!”
The corners of his mouth twitched upward for a moment then he nodded again. “Yeah.” His eyes curiously searched our surroundings like he meant to take each detail in forever.
I slapped him on the shoulder and almost squealed. “Goddammit.” I wiped my eyes again and could do little to keep the excitement from exploding from me. “Oh, we should go. We should go on and get somewhere safe.”
He nodded toward the horizon, “’Lanta?”
“Sure.”
We packed and it was a like an ethereal phantom remained among us beside the quiet dead; turkey vultures cawed to break the silence, pecked where they pleased on the bodies, and I couldn’t want to fight them. I kept sidelong eyes on Billy with the ever-present worry that he’d vanish. Perhaps he was the phantom.
From the rear of the caleche, I removed a few sentimental books Jackson liked, essential cookware, and sparse rations for the trek. The last thing I grabbed was my shotgun and a bit of ammo.
As we set from the dead place, the terrible silhouettes that were cut from there on the horizon behind us grew in my mind with every backward glance—I wanted to fall to pieces, but I saw Billy walk alongside me and although contented is not the right word, it is the nearest. The steps of our boots were all that was heard because I could not fathom to pierce the space between us with words for fear that it would all end. It was a dream, surely. I’d lost my mind. With my hands thumbed into the straps of my pack, I saw I my hands still shook, and they would shake a lot longer—years and with memories too. The crunch of earth underfoot became a rhythm and instead of looking at my brother, I watched his shadow on the ground.
“Everyone’s dead?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” I repeated.
“How ain’t I? How ain’t you?”
To say that it was luck would’ve been too morbid. Instead of saying anything, I shrugged, kicked a loose stone, watched my feet some more, and felt a queasiness come over me. For the moment, the immeasurable deaths of those I’d left behind were forgotten in the company of my brother and a sickness welled up inside of me so suddenly that I felt that I’d fall to pieces at the slightest provocation. Finally, I did speak again, but only after steeling myself to the troubles, “Yeah, how are you alive?”
Billy shrugged at me then stumbled up a hill which overlooked trash wood wilderness where sticks lay twisted and bare and further on the sight of Atlanta was visible and I cupped a hand across my brow and Billy did the same and we looked on at the shadows of the place out there where strings of smoke rose from the skyline as a signature for the desolation of the city; it was dead. I felt it in my bones.
My hands were light while my head was heavy, my throat was dry, and the entire world seized in moments of stillness or perhaps it was my own vision which construed the world in that way; I took to the small hill which Billy had climbed and sat there and stared at the place between my feet to steady myself.
“Fire,” said Billy.
I nodded and nearly choked.
Leviathan—till then I had no belief in dragons—glided over the broken city, its winged shadow little seen but its voice was deep across the scene, letting go of roars which shook the ground. We hid among the trash wood and moved down the hill and watched the creature thrash in the air as if it was angry for its abominable life. Whatever millennia it spent in the pits of hell seemingly thrust upon it a love of destruction and pain.
My brother moved with a more assured stride and kept a cool distance and upon fleeing from the wreckage, from the outlying area of Atlanta and the place we’d left our family, he spoke little and watched me strangely whenever I took to melancholic fatiguing. We lit no fires for fear of what it could draw from the night so in the dark I’d see him watching some far-off place, maybe seeing through the reality which surrounded us, and he’d snap from it, catch my eye, and disappear for minutes to scan the perimeter of whatever place we stayed. Being alongside my resurrected brother was lonelier than I could bear, and I hoped he’d disappear for good or that I could work up the courage to end my own life. It was like purgatory explained in books and for a time, it felt endless; upon witnessing the destruction of Atlanta, we pushed to Marrietta, and it was much the same. As was Chatanooga, Nashville, Knoxville, Louisville, Charlotte. The ocean had risen so that Fayetville was gone underwater, and the Florida leg disappeared completely as far as I’m aware. I understood later that Memphis was overlooked and more places further west were alive too, but when we’d exhausted the south, we moved north and found strongholds of families or traders or even small groupings of civilization, but by and large we found nothing much in the two years that we hoofed it from place to place; it was my doing mostly—I wanted to find a place untouched by the mayhem in the area my family had once patrolled.
In retrospect, I am certain that Billy only stayed by my side for convenience; there wasn’t any of my brother left in the man that was my travelling companion for that time. He was a ghost of a person and Mephisto had preyed upon my desire in the worst moment of weakness in my life. There were nights—maybe we’d taken up in a natural alcove for shelter or we’d locked ourselves in some ancient structure for sleep—I’d watch Billy lay where he was, Sibylle’s hat and holster lying beside him, and I’d think of putting him down but he’d stir and in a brief shadow I’d see my brother as he’d been and withdraw to bury my face in fake sleep to be met with images of the night the demons attacked where I’d shake, sweat, and bite my lips so hard I’d drink blood.
Two years we marched around the Appalachians and in that time, I felt myself wither and disconnect.
Upon moving further north we met Indianapolis—that’s what it was called back then—and it was run by an older woman called Lady Lazarus; I reckon her father, affluent and dead, was a fan of Plath. Indianapolis was fortified more than most with its high walls, and its wall men, and its underground facilities which produced substantial ammunition. We—me and Billy’s revenant—were travelling with a group of traders we’d taken up with from out west; they called themselves wizards and although they seemed of the occult, their spirits discounted whatever suspicions I might’ve had of them.
I remember first pushing through that big gate; the town kept with it an indisputable malaise and though we were greeted at the gate by the leader Lady Lazarus—her brothers came along with her—and her jovial demeanor carried a certain infectious quality, I could not help but notice that the regular denizens maintained a healthy distance from their leader (the guards which followed the Lady everywhere probably had something to do with this).
Lady Lazarus touched each of our hands in greeting with enthusiasm and I could not help but notice how soft they were, how vibrant her eyes were, how much she smiled, and how beautiful she was given her age; already her head was fully gray.
Upon meeting each of us, going through the wizard traders first, she came to me, and Billy and she shook my hand then pivoted to Billy.
“Welcome. You can call me Lady.”
Billy caught her hand in his, held it longer than she’d intended so that they held eye contact, and he smiled broadly, tipped the cowboy hat on his head back to expose his smooth forehead and said, “And you can call me Maron, mam. You are quite a sight for a tired man.”
Though Maron—as he’d named himself—was more boy than man, Lady took a disturbed liking to him immediately and we prolonged our stay in Indianapolis after the wizards departed to head west.
Under the rule of Lady, Indianapolis was a theocracy, with her addressing the huddled masses at the steps of her grand abode, she’d preach for hours on sin and strife and quote her favorite passages; though reminiscent of my time with the Rednecks, I never found any truth or sincerity or freedom in her teaching—hers was more trouble, brimstone, fire and I’d had enough of that for a lifetime. Public execution was common. As was torture.
Maron distanced himself further from me, but I remained to keep an eye on him—it was not sentimentality but rather I existed without purpose and conjured some from watching my brother.
Often, Lady invited Maron to her private rooms and though the rumors and speculation ran the full spectrum of perverse speculation, every denizen feigned ignorance at her pregnancy.
Upon giving birth, the infant was malformed with two heads—her brothers took this as an omen and killed the child, put their leader in the stocks for months, and stripped her of dignity while the denizens did to her what they pleased.
Maron rose through the wall men while Lady’s brothers assumed control of Indianapolis and called themselves Bosses; in the time since Lady’s reign, the place was renamed to Golgotha for its closeness to a messiah.
I went west but always found myself drawn back to Golgotha because of some emptiness in me. It was only with Suzanne that I wanted something more and knowing them, I almost believed in a world like the one that children dream about. The world that Gemma and Andrew chased after when they left home, like the one Aggie talked about in her mother’s books. There’s a hopelessness in me that I’ll never be rid of. In the interim between our initial arrival to Golgotha and that flight from that terrible city, I cannot know how many people I sacrificed in convening with demons because I refuse to know because the number would destroy me. That is the worst of it; I do not even have courage enough to face myself or the actions of my past in any substantive way.
Mephisto tainted me so that I could speak with his kind as a dealmaker and the disease grew.
Billy or Maron or whatever he is should have been reaped long ago or better, I should never have brought that abomination alive. Such a cruel world where a deep longing like that can be inverted, weaponized. Me and him should both die; me and him should have died a long time ago.
First/Previous
Archive

Hi everyone. After my first winter in my first world I decided I should start getting into raising some animals. I had some luck and managed to get a sow and a boar into an enclosure made of crude fences. The space inside the fences is 7 blocks by 8 blocks.
The sow became pregnant but the piglet spawned outside of fences and I had to bugger around trapping it and returning it to its ungrateful parents. So I thought that I would dig out the area inside the fences by one block to stop this happening again. Will this work? They can still stand on the block with the fence on it so I am not convinced...
Next problem came later when I woke up to find the sow outside the enclosure. How did this happen? Their feeding trough has at least two clear blocks between it and the fences so I don't think she got on top of it and jumped over. Any ideas guys? Is this just something that happens?

For a little background: I'm not a VFX person, but I do know a bit about the insane process regarding clients and vendors and... all that. My heart goes out to every single artist in that pipeline who has to deal with seemingly arbitrary changes only for the work to get torn apart by people who don't understand it when it comes out.
So, for professionals who know the tools, who probably have some idea of what goes on behind-the-scenes in the shows, can probably, even if they didn't directly work on the show, hazard a guess as to reasons for things (and whom DEFINITELY have more of an ability to see those things than I could) -- I have a couple of questions concerning the Marvel series She-Hulk: Attorney at Law, from 2022.
I know they used something like four different vendors to bring to life the She-Hulk character assets; even before the VFX breakdowns were posted online, somebody in the know pointed out to me which ones Weta did, for example. I know the methods of motion/performance capture for the character differed between inertial and (I can't remember the other one's name, please forgive me), sometimes between sequence to sequence, whether exterior or interior. I know they had a stand-in whose work, despite what was said in the press, was apparently deemed unusable by the actual animators as reference once it got to that point, and I know at least one VFX source complained the main show director wasn't listening to the on-set VFX supe in how best to create an effect, etc.; said VFX supe won an Oscar for Dune.
Having said those things, the quality is remarkably high, although the most criticised VFX work was done by Digital Domain and TRIXTR on the show -- the Weta sequences (despite my source telling me they were brought on to one sequence almost at the last minute as added work) were generally the highest-quality, had the best facial animation capture, skin texture, etc. (From what I could see, Digital Domain's best sequence was the one in the retreat episode.) I know assets were shared -- I also know DD had a harder time trying to keep up with the main actress's performance than Weta did, as it's a bit more complex than their previous gold-stand of Josh Brolin's Thanos.
Would big differences be down to clients jerking vendors around to an extent that one sequence by one vendor doesn' match another vendor's, or is it down to the tech used? Do you feel actors in mocap are generally as informed as they should be about how best to perform in motion/performance-capture settings? And, this seems to be a common thing, why shave down the motions and energy of a mocap actor's performance in post, when they could just as easily tell the actor to dial it down before filming and thus not have to adjust movements so much even as opposed to the size of the assets they're being transferred to?
Is there something that could be done to make the process a bit smoother? (Yes, pre-planning is a no-brainer.) Do VFX supes need more control over their sets on shows, in order to keep down costs and raise the standard of excellence? Do actors need to be told a bit more on how animators actually modify their performances, and how they can best work with that knowledge?
I know it's a lot all tumbling out, but it's just a bunch of questions and thoughts that have been on my mind. I felt only a bunch of experts in the art could inform me of any possible answers. :-) I'm just gonna listen to y'all with open ears.

I had a beautiful experience where I met some mushroom beings. I ate a couple grams with an MAOI extract. Amongst many other profound parts of the trip, I met what I called the grandfather and grandmother of the mushroom.
They were some ancient intergalactic beings. I believe the spores were a sort of time capsule sent through space that held great knowledge of their people. Also it could change life of wherever it landed. Like maybe turn single cell organisms in intelligent beings.
I thanked them for sending out a part of them for us to find and they thanked me for finding it and using their knowledge. It was beautiful.
I did see them, it's a bit hard to describe. They had large eyes, that were loving and twinkled, a wide nose, not much for ears, and a large head. Sort of like someone with dreadlocks wrapped up in a hat, but they wore hooded robes like a jedi. Their skin was sort of a psychedelic pattern.
For moments I had all the knowledge of the universe, but it was hard to comprehend while staying in my body with a brain to process it. It was like I melted into the oneness and couldn't retain it. They gave me lots of love and I loved them. They were also my grandparents or the grandparents of the human race.

Write one page stories in response to these prompts and post your favorite ones here in the comments!

1. Lost in the forest, she found a mysterious key—unlocking a hidden door to a magical realm of talking animals.
2. Every night, the old lighthouse keeper whispered secrets to the waves, until the sea revealed a long-lost love letter.
3. In the attic, she discovered an ancient map leading to buried treasure, transforming a routine cleaning day into adventure.
4. An orphaned kitten, afraid of rain, found a friend in a compassionate umbrella, forming an unexpected bond against life's storms.
5. The broken music box mended hearts, playing a forgotten melody that mended the fractured friendship of two old musicians.
6. The astronaut’s lonely orbit was interrupted by a cosmic visitor—an ethereal, star-shaped being seeking companionship in the vast void.
7. A magical pen wrote the future. Terrified of the unknown, she learned to embrace each unwritten moment as a gift.
8. Beneath the city, a network of tunnels held the forgotten tales of subway musicians and their symphonies for the rats.
9. In a desolate winter, a snowflake with a secret wish fell into the hands of a child who believed in miracles.
10. A garden gnome, tired of being stationary, embarked on a quest for adventure, hitching rides with unsuspecting birds.
11. On a crowded train, a mysterious suitcase swapped hands, sparking connections between strangers and intertwining their fates forever.
12. Time froze at midnight. A clock repairer's dance with the gears led to a moment of eternal stillness in town.
13. A library cat, bored with routine, discovered a hidden book portal, whisking readers into enchanting worlds beyond the shelves.
14. A worn-out teddy bear, discarded in an attic, found new purpose as the guardian of a child's sweetest dreams.
15. A mysterious jar held fireflies that whispered forgotten wishes, sparking a magical night of dreams come true for a town.
16. In a ghost town, a lone pianist played melodies that brought memories alive, reviving the spirits of the abandoned.
17. The talking mirror revealed harsh truths. Determined to change, she shattered the reflection, discovering beauty in fragments.
18. A message in a bottle sailed through time, reaching the hands of a modern-day sailor and uniting two distant souls.
19. The rusty key, tucked in a forgotten drawer, opened a portal to childhood dreams, unlocking a world of nostalgia.
20. An owl and a firefly, unlikely friends, lit up the night sky, sharing stories that painted constellations on the darkness.
21. A peculiar tree whispered forgotten secrets to those who listened. Its roots held stories spanning centuries, connecting generations.
22. Lost in a storm, a little boat discovered a magical lighthouse, guiding it to an island where dreams washed ashore.
23. In a dusty attic, an old typewriter typed messages from the afterlife, comforting grieving families with unexpected love letters.
24. An abandoned carousel, cursed to spin forever, granted wishes to those who dared ride, revealing the magic within their hearts.
25. An artist painted a doorway to other worlds. Curious, a passerby stepped through, finding a realm where colors spoke.
26. On a rainy day, a neglected umbrella found purpose sheltering a stray dog, forging a bond stronger than storms.
27. The lonely scarecrow, longing for friends, befriended a misfit group of crows who taught it to dance with the wind.
28. In a forgotten library, a bookworm encountered a volume of living stories, each character begging to be read into existence.
29. The clock tower's chimes echoed stories of the past, inspiring a time-traveler to rewrite history with second chances.
30. A lonely shadow, detached from its owner, explored the world, discovering that shadows too could leave an imprint.
31. An old camera captured moments of pure joy. Rediscovered, its photographs rekindled forgotten smiles and laughter in a family.
32. The wishing well granted whispers of hope to a grieving soul, turning tears into petals that bloomed into a garden.
33. A discarded toy soldier, missing an arm, rallied fellow broken toys, forming an army of resilience against neglect.
34. On a foggy night, a lighthouse's beam revealed ghostly ships from centuries past, silently sailing through time's veil.
35. A gardener's tears watered a magical plant, whose blooms told stories of love, loss, and the passage of time.
36. A misfit teapot, left on a shelf, found purpose brewing dreams, pouring inspiration into the cups of sleepers.
37. The carousel's magic painted dreams onto children's minds. Each ride sculpted aspirations, turning mundane moments into extraordinary memories.
38. The librarian's cat, enchanted by ancient scrolls, stumbled into a world of forgotten tales, bringing lost stories back to life.
39. A discarded key unlocked a trunk of memories, revealing a grandmother's treasures that sparked adventures for a curious grandchild.
40. The echo in an old clock tower whispered the wishes of forgotten lovers, creating a timeless symphony of heartbeats.
41. A curious rock in the garden harbored a tiny door. Opening it led to a realm of miniature creatures and wonders.
42. A discarded puzzle piece, overlooked in haste, found its place in a grand masterpiece, completing a picture of unity.
43. An old diary discovered in an attic held letters from a bygone era, weaving tales of love transcending time.
44. The moonlit pond transformed into a mirror of dreams, reflecting the aspirations of those who dared to gaze into it.
45. A forgotten umbrella sparked a serendipitous meeting, sheltering two strangers who shared a rain-soaked adventure and laughter.
46. An abandoned toy store at midnight came alive, toys playing and dancing until dawn, filling the darkness with joy.
47. The wishing star granted a child's plea, turning the night sky into a canvas painted with dreams come true.
48. A humble lantern, carried through generations, lit the path of a family's stories, flickering with the warmth of memories.
49. The clock tower's gears clicked in harmony with a street musician's melody, creating a fleeting symphony in the city.
50. A neglected swing in the park became a portal to childhood dreams, swaying through memories of laughter and innocence.
51. The attic's dusty typewriter wrote letters to the future, forging connections between generations separated by time's relentless march.
52. A lonely moonbeam illuminated a forgotten statue, bringing it to life to dance beneath the celestial ballroom of stars.
53. A broken compass found in an antique shop guided a lost traveler, leading them to unexpected destinations and serendipitous encounters.
54. The neglected rocking horse in the corner sparked to life, carrying children on whimsical adventures through the realms of imagination.
55. An old train ticket, misplaced for decades, led a nostalgic traveler on a journey through memories of youthful escapades.
56. A discarded map, its edges worn with age, guided wanderers to a mythical land hidden behind the veil of reality.
57. A forgotten key discovered in a dusty drawer unlocked a door to childhood secrets, revealing treasures of innocence and joy.
58. The abandoned robot in the junkyard fixed broken toys, teaching them that imperfections were the essence of beauty.
59. A fallen star transformed into a messenger, delivering dreams to sleepers and sprinkling stardust on their midnight wishes.

Hiya, a friend is gonna be running a D&D 5e game set in a fantasy version of 2010s Earth, inspired by things like Dimension 20's Fantasy High, Life Is Strange, Locke & Key and, well, Teen Wolf. Specifically, it's gonna be set in fantasy Oregon in a small seaside town (he very recently played Life Is Strange for the first time lol). We went over a couple different character ideas together until I thought about actually adapting a 'The Monstrous' character I had been making for a Monster Of The Week game (which never ended up happening, sadly). Of course, these are very different systems, but narratively we're both quite excited by this idea.
The general character concept is the quintessential high school 'Queen Bee' but Uh Oh! One night she gets turned into a werewolf and her perfect little life is thrown upside-down! So, borrowing the whole 'D&D School' thing from Fantasy High, I was thinking that she would have been taking Bard classes, since as a cheerleader she could quite literally give her team inspiration, but then since becoming a werewolf has started showing interest in Barbarian classes, making her a Bard-Barian multiclass! We're starting at Level 3 and I want Barbarian to be the main class ('cos of 'wolfing out' but also I'm pretty sure all the other 4 players are wanting to play casters), so I was thinking of doing Bard 1 / Barbarian 2.
So I guess I just need help figuring out what the actual stats 'n' skills 'n' stuff should actually be. Like, how to properly represent this character mechanically so it plays like how I wanna rp it, without of course having an advantage over the other players.
Strength and Charisma are obviously gonna be the main focuses as the respective cores of each class, but also to represent her newfound strength as a werewolf and her natural charm as 'the popular girl'. Dexterity I feel should be good to represent her werewolf reflexes/agility as well as her gymnastic skills as a cheerleader. Constitution might be important for Unarmored Defense and health in general, as well as representing werewolf toughness, but I guess I feel that doesn't need to be a priority? I mean, with Rage my HP's gonna be effectively doubled a lot of the time anyway, right? Intelligence can be the dump stat, I guess. Backstory-wise, I did want her to be like a straight-A student, but then since becoming a werewolf her grades have been slipping so that still checks out I think. Finally, Wisdom I feel could also be good 'cos of enhanced werewolf senses so perception, but maybe also for animal handling and/or survival? Of course though, unless I happen to roll pretty good stats, they can't all be good, and I can only pick so many skill proficiencies, which is where I'm kinda in a pickle.
Then there's the issue of the werewolf mechanics itself. At first I was just considering reflavoring Rage as a werewolf transformation, but then I looked into other options like 'Path Of The Beast' Barbarian, 'Order Of The Lycan' Blood Hunter, the Shifter race, and I even was considering Pointy Hat's Lycanthropy rules. I do still need to run all those by the DM properly to see what he thinks, but yea I'm just not sure what would provide the best werewolf flavor that we're after, or if there's anything else out there that would fit better.
Like, I don't want it to only manifest as a combat ability, you know? And of course the whole point of a werewolf character is the struggle to control that dawg in ya and coming to terms with the monster you've become (do I hear someone blasting Skillet, or is that just me?). So yea, if anyone has any advice or recommendations, they'd be greatly appreciated :)

Appearance: A spherical black fruit with multi-colored rings surrounded by black rinds, with orange swirls appearing in the rings like spots, topped with a grey stem that ends with two square leaves on either sides with longer and compacted swirls. The inside is bright red and blue like slices with grey swirls arranged in straight rows
The eater of this fruit gains the ability to recreate and amplify any sound they have ever heard that they can emit from their body using tech-based wires and speakers, making them a Audio System User
Etymology: Biko is taken from *Yamabiko 山彦*, which means “echo” in Japanese

In-Depth

Cypher Wires: The user is able to transform their hair strands and finger ends into cords tipped with either plugs or microphones that they can use to channel and amplify sound through into their speakers. This allows them to pick up and record any sound-waves even through obstructing walls and sound-proof barriers, as well as selectively amplify noises and voices they can differentiate from multiple sources, gifting them incredible spying capabilities and information obtaining. The user can also extend these tools on strong cables they can manipulate in a prehensile fashion and for extraordinary lengths to detect and relay sound-waves to the user or their speakers
Speaker Systems: The user has the power to augment their body into or with large speakers of any sized cubic, spherical or angular shapes they imagine, and are even able to dispense these speakers off of their body and remotely control and activate them anywhere. These solid-as-steel speakers can emit powerful sound-waves of anything the user has ever heard before or are hearing live as they are connected to the user via their Cypher Wires, enabling them a versatile and powerful system of sonic-capabilities as pulses, waves and blasts of vibrational force. The user can even sense the surroundings of their speakers through sound waves, similar to "echo-location" used by several animal species while connected to their wires, enabling them a powerful sixth-sense against opponents with a physical body

Awakening: Eternal Echos

The user after unlocking the full potential of their powers can now manipulate their speakers remotely without the need for cables, as the user’s echoing sounds made from their bodies act as an energy for them in which they can amplify and alter into any form of audio of the echos they unleash. Their speakers with their own energy can also levitate and move at supersonic speeds as the user desire, and their shapes can be reconfigured into anything the user imagines with endless variety for dimensions, allowing the user to combine and weave them with their wires to form animated creations powered and weaponized with endless sound
The user with their new advantage has even greater range and versatile power for taking on individual or multiple opponents at once, and their sound-relaying grants them even better capabilities for gathering sounds for amplifying and information gathering

Weaknesses

• The user can be disoriented and even knocked unconscious by sudden loud sounds through their microphones connected to themselves and their speakers if unexpected, disabling control over any systems they’ve deployed until they regain control
• The user’s speakers cannot function with severed cables between them and the user until their awakening, which can limit their remote sonic abilities
• Seawater can cause speakers, plugs and mics to short-circuit and become unusable, requiring the user to detach and regrow new ones
• Standard Devil Fruit weaknesses apply

Techniques

Bass Heartbeat: User alters their soles and palms into cymbal-sized speakers, plus two on their front and back. The user can emit fast pulses of low-frequency sounds that can hit as solid as bullet-speed punches, and do so in a rhythmic pattern they can set to repeat automatically
Spider Chords: User transforms their hands into sharp plugs and strong cables that they can extend and whip around to grapple themselves and scratch their opponents greatly, capable of cutting through even stone and metal
Heavy Tolls: User creates two meteor hammers made from attaching spherical speakers and mics to their body on long cables, then whip them around like flails for sonic-booming impacts

• Backlash Yo-Yo: User forms two wide cylindrical speakers aligned together with a long wire connected to their finger, which they can utilize like a giant yo-yo for rolling and trajectory-changing sonic pulses for rapid strikes
  
• Zero-Point Clash: User creates six large ‘Doom-Mics’ from their back and alter their torso front into a large speaker. When they strike with their ‘Doom-Mics’ they blast a powerful shockwave forward that cracks apart even stone and ship hulls, and can lash all six onto their target to keep them centered for a second to impact them with a long-range blast
  

Reverb Jackknife: User transforms their arm into a cubic blade-like weapon with sharpened plugs at the end, with their shoulder and elbow as wire-joints for flipping and spinning like a butterfly-knife. They can utilize this for close and long-ranged slicing attacks, and increase the power of their blade by vibrating it with an intense amount of bass and pitch
Megahertz Roadie Rig: User creates a mass amount of interconnected speakers and cables around their body, forming a durable and dense layer of defense that can emit powerful sonic waves for offense and even mobility by using their force to propel themselves like a hovercraft. The user can form large appendages and weapons from this construct for defensive and attacking moves like a hovering musical mecha

• Thunder Tome: User forms large speakers and wire-based hands from their MRR and slam them into their opponents or the ground to unleash sonic shockwaves on impact, and can even use these to form quick sound-based barriers
  
• Centihenries: User aligns many slab-like speakers and runs their cables through and outside them, forming one or more large mechanical centipedes, connected to the underside center of their body by wires that allow the user to control them
  
• Cyborg Octopus: User create a large cubic speaker with eight plug-tipped cables that act as tentacles, resembling mechanical octopi suspended on a cable from their back. They can control this mechalopod from a long distance remotely for surveillance, offense or defense using their cables and sonic pulses as long as their cable is intact
  
• Spider Driver: User reconfigures their MRR or Cyborg Octopus into a caravel-sized mecha-spider they can utilize like an All-Terrain Vehicle and even deploy long-range cables for traversing over like spider thread
  
• Mo-Boom Box: User transforms their arm or half of their MRR into a huge whale-shaped construct with all of its speakers facing forward. They can create a reverberating beam of sound from inside using relaying mics to unleash a massive blast of whale-song from all of them simultaneously, creating a powerful shockwave that passes through everything
  

Black Panther Overload: Hyper Huan: The user alters their own body with specialized speakers and wires to form a black humanoid feline shape with powerful arms and legs, durable claws, rolling speaker-skates, a set of three long cable-tails with ‘Doom-mics’ at their ends, and wickedly sharp blue teeth and fangs. The user can utilize the sensory speakers across their body and central one on their face to act like eye-shaped ears, detecting any and all vibrations around themselves to react and move themselves at sonic speeds, being comparable to a Mythical Zoan in sheer power
There is a drawback to this technique, as the user’s sensory speakers cannot detect vibrations when they are emitting sound-waves of their own and will become “blind” when they are attacking, defending or boosting with their speakers
Non-Combat:
Sonar-lite: User emits timed pulses of far-range echos from their body and/or their speakers to utilize echolocation
Dynamic Equalizer: User replicates another’s voice by getting vocal samples from their microphone or jacks to their throat, allowing them to utilize their voice for commands and subterfuge against opponents. With practice they can even accomplish this with their MRR and all it’s techniques

• Echost: The user can connect their jacks to one’s vocal cords and replay sounds they made before and they remember, allowing them to target any information and truth from their own voices. They can even apply this to a corpse's vocal cords and eardrums (If they're still on said body and intact) to replay their last words they spoke and heard before their death

Acoustic Suspension: User creates several wide speakers facing upwards that allow them to boost whatever and whoever are on top of them upwards with rhythmic vibrational force, which can be quite baffling to witnesses

So I created a mega mod pack (around 325 mods) and the world in single player opens and runs just fine. But when I try to invite anyone they are instantly kicked out and met with the error message:
Java.lang.IllegalArgumentException: unable to fit 2557455 into 3
It was not a crash (I think) so I was not able to get the entire crash report from them, but nevertheless, they are not able to join.
I tried looking up the issue online to see what the issue was and it was apparently something to do with too much data being in one chunk/scoreboard, but I am not sure how to fix it because the world was brand new. Before this I made 3 other worlds that I deleted after one another and for some reason the map data from Xaero's maps remained (I don't know if this information is relevant to the issue but I'll just put it here just in case :))
Below is the mod list, and I was wondering which mods could be the potential issue here.

• MC Dungeons Artifacts (by chronos_sacaria)
• [Let's Do] Beachparty (by satisfy)
• Terralith (by Starmute)
• Another Emerald Expansion (by TriQue)
• Starter Kit (by Serilum)
• Cardinal Components API (by UpcraftLP)
• Ultris: Boss Expansion (by limesplatus)
• XL Packets Fabric (by tfarecnim)
• Savage Ender Dragon[Forge/Fabric] (by someaddon)
• spark (by Iucko)
• Void Totem (Fabric) (by Affehund)
• Brewin' And Chewin' [Fabric] (by MrSterner_)
• Clumps (by Jaredlll08)
• [Let's Do] Candlelight (by satisfy)
• [Let's Do] Meadow (by satisfy)
• bad packets (by badasintended)
• Comforts (Fabric 1.16.5 - 1.19.2) (by TheIllusiveC4)
• Not Enough Trinket Slots (NETS) (by Cookie_GD)
• Randomium Ore (by MehVahdJukaar)
• MES - Moog's End Structures (by finndog_123)
• Macaw's Doors (by sketch_macaw)
• CorgiLib (by Corgi_Taco)
• Macaw's Lights and Lamps (by sketch_macaw)
• Piercing Paxels ⚒️ (by AmyMialee)
• Farsight [Fabric] (by someaddon)
• Better Statistics Screen (by TheCSDev)
• ModernFix (by embeddedt)
• Dark Waters (by AzureDoomC)
• Pig Pen Cipher (by DarkhaxDev)
• MC Story Mode Armors [Forge / Fabric] (by chronos_sacaria)
• Mutant Monsters [Forge & Fabric] (by Fuzs)
• Friends&Foes - Beekeeper Hut (Fabric/Quilt) (by Faboslav)
• ESSENTIAL Mod (by SparkUniverse_)
• Simple Discord Rich Presence (Forge / Fabric) (by Sunekaer)
• Towns and Towers (by Biban_Auriu)
• BCLib (by Quiqueck)
• FTB Library (Fabric) (by FTB)
• Marium's Soulslike Weaponry (by mariumbacchus)
• Dungeon Now Loading 1% (by hexnowloading)
• Structory: Towers (by botanydev)
• Capybara [Fabric] (by ZestyBlaze)
• BetterEnd (by Quiqueck)
• Every Compat (Wood Good) (by MehVahdJukaar)
• Resourceful Lib (by ThatGravyBoat)
• Limited Chunkloading - Chunk cleanup[Forge/Fabric] (by someaddon)
• Macaw's Trapdoors (by sketch_macaw)
• TenzinLib (by CommodoreThrawn)
• FallingTree (Forge&Fabric) (by rakambda)
• Shulker Box Slot (Fabric 1.16.1 - 1.19.2) (by TheIllusiveC4)
• Artifacts (Fabric) (by florensie)
• AttributeFix (by DarkhaxDev)
• Enchantment Descriptions (by DarkhaxDev)
• DragonLoot (by pois1xlive)
• Nature's Compass (by Chaosyr)
• Name Pain (by naqaden)
• Cobblemon (by CobblemonMod)
• Macaw's Fences and Walls (by sketch_macaw)
• Kambrik (by Ejektaflex)
• TipTheScales (by Jaredlll08)
• Bosses of Mass Destruction (by Barribob)
• Konkrete [Fabric] (by Keksuccino)
• Tom's Simple Storage Mod (Fabric) (by tom54541)
• Wondrous Wilds (by Ineffa)
• Jade 🔍 (by Snownee)
• Spirit (by terrariumearth)
• Immersive Aircraft [Fabric/Forge] (by Conczin)
• Forge Config API Port (by Fuzs)
• EMI (by EmilyPloszaj)
• Ingredient Extension API (by Jaredlll08)
• [Let's Do] Brewery (by satisfy)
• Projectile Damage Attribute [Fabric & Forge] (by daedelus_dev)
• Mouse Wheelie (Fabric) (by Siphalor)
• YUNG's Better Ocean Monuments (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Traveler's Titles (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Nether Chested [Forge & Fabric] (by Fuzs)
• Universal Graves (by Patbox)
• Additional Lanterns (by SuperMartijn642)
• FTB Pack Companion (by FTB)
• Vanilla Hammers (by Draylar1)
• Goblin Traders [Fabric] (by MrCrayfish)
• Chipped (by terrariumearth)
• Alloy Forgery (by gliscowo)
• YUNG's Better End Island (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Ocean's Delight (by scouter567)
• Item Filters (by LatvianModder)
• Friendly Fire (by DarkhaxDev)
• [Let's Do] API (by Cristelknight)
• Inmis (by Draylar1)
• [Deprecated] Farmer's Delight [Fabric] (by NewHoryzon)
• Login Protection[Forge/Fabric] (by someaddon)
• Lil' Wings (by terrariumearth)
• Fix Experience Bug (now with FABRIC and FORGE versions) (by MacTso)
• playerAnimator (by KosmX)
• Camps. Castles. Carriages. (by Eugene2000)
• Zoomify (by XanderIsDev)
• Repurposed Structures (Fabric/Quilt) (by telepathicgrunt)
• Beautify: Refabricated (by Suel_ki)
• Nyte's Rotten Flesh to Leather (by nyteTHC)
• Naturalist (by Starfish_Studios)
• Cloth Config API (Fabric/Forge/NeoForge) (by shedaniel)
• Icarus (by Cammie)
• YUNG's Better Dungeons (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Thermoo (by TheDeathlyCow)
• Item Highlighter [Fabric] (by Grend_G)
• Farmer's Respite (Fabric) (by JustoPlayzz_)
• When Dungeons Arise - Seven Seas (by Aureljz)
• Sodium Extra (by FlashyReese)
• Fabric Waystones (by LordDeatHunter)
• Enderman Overhaul (by joosh_7889)
• Dark Paintings (by DarkhaxDev)
• Trinkets (Fabric) (by EmilyPloszaj)
• No Chat Reports (by Aizistral)
• AdventureZ (by Globox_Z)
• Resourceful Config (by ThatGravyBoat)
• YUNG's Better Witch Huts (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Better chunk loading[Forge/Fabric] (by someaddon)
• Collective (by Serilum)
• Exline's Furniture Mod (by exlinegames)
• Decorative Blocks (by stohun)
• LambDynamicLights (by LambdAurora)
• YetAnotherConfigLib (by XanderIsDev)
• Nears [Fabric] (by DigitalPear_11)
• Goblin Traders (Fabric) (by Jab125)
• Things [Fabric] (by gliscowo)
• YUNG's Bridges (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Connected Glass (by SuperMartijn642)
• Harvest with ease (by CrystalSpider)
• The Graveyard (FABRIC) (by finallion_13)
• Structory (by botanydev)
• Runes [Fabric] (by daedelus_dev)
• Visual Workbench [Forge & Fabric] (by Fuzs)
• Simply Swords [Fabric & Forge] (by sweenuss)
• Traveler's Backpack [Fabric] (by Tiviacz1337)
• Prism [Fabric] (by Grend_G)
• Convenient Decor (by mim1q)
• Create Fabric (by tropheusj)
• WMITAF (by ShaksterNano)
• Deeper and Darker (by KyaniteMods)
• GeckoLib (by Gecko)
• Polymer (by Patbox)
• Iceberg [Fabric] (by Grend_G)
• Plushie Mod (by Link4real)
• Amecs (Fabric) (by Siphalor)
• Paladin's Furniture (by UnlikePaladin)
• Cloth API (Fabric) (by shedaniel)
• Eating Animation [Fabric] (by theone_ss)
• Winterly (by PinkGoosik)
• Trails and Tales 1.20 [FABRIC] (by swutm)
• MC Dungeons Armors (by chronos_sacaria)
• More Mob Variants (by nyuppo)
• Good Ending (by orcinus73)
• Moonlight Lib (by MehVahdJukaar)
• Additional Additions Fabric (by dqu1jjj)
• Trade Cycling (by henkelmax)
• Architectury API (Fabric/Forge/NeoForge) (by shedaniel)
• Fastload (by StockiesLad)
• Dark Utilities (by DarkhaxDev)
• Mythic Upgrades (by TriQue)
• End's Delight (by foggyhillside)
• Immersive Armors [Fabric/Forge] (by Conczin)
• Let Me Despawn (by frikinjay)
• JourneyMap (by techbrew)
• Faux Custom Entity Data (by Jaredlll08)
• oωo (owo-lib) (by gliscowo)
• Bygone Nether (Fabric) (by izofar)
• Lootr (Fabric) (by Noobanidus)
• Roughly Enough Items Fabric/Forge/NeoForge (REI) (by shedaniel)
• YUNG's Better Mineshafts (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Goodall (by Frogipher)
• Indium (by comp500)
• Critters and Companions (by joosh_7889)
• Durability Tooltip (by SuperMartijn642)
• Runelic (by DarkhaxDev)
• Mythic Metals (by Noaaan)
• Galosphere (by orcinus73)
• Balm (Fabric Edition) (by BlayTheNinth)
• Lithium (Fabric) (by jellysquid3_)
• The Splash Milk (by DragonsPlus)
• EMI Loot (by fzzyhmstrs)
• Incendium (by Starmute)
• YUNG's Better Nether Fortresses (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Snowy Spirit (by MehVahdJukaar)
• Chunk Sending[Forge/Fabric] (by someaddon)
• MVS - Moog's Voyager Structures (by finndog_123)
• Building Wands (by nicguzzo)
• Loot Integrations[Forge/Fabric] (by someaddon)
• Convenient Name Tags (by mim1q)
• MaLiLib (by masady)
• Puzzles Lib [Forge & Fabric] (by Fuzs)
• ThonkUtil (by Jab125)
• YUNG's Better Jungle Temples (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Mob Lassos [Forge & Fabric] (by Fuzs)
• Simple Voice Chat (by henkelmax)
• SuperMartijn642's Config Lib (by SuperMartijn642)
• FTB Teams (Fabric) (by FTB)
• Elytra Slot (Fabric 1.16.1 - 1.19.2) (by TheIllusiveC4)
• Just Enough Effect Descriptions (JEED) (by MehVahdJukaar)
• Advancement Plaques [Fabric] (by Grend_G)
• Bobby (by Johni0702)
• Croptopia (by thethonk)
• Botany Pots (by DarkhaxDev)
• It Takes a Pillage (Fabric) (by izofar)
• Another Furniture (by Starfish_Studios)
• Friends&Foes - Flowery Mooblooms (Fabric/Quilt) (by Faboslav)
• Mythic Mobs (by Kyber_6)
• Too Fast (by Noobanidus)
• Controlling (by Jaredlll08)
• Sodium (by jellysquid3_)
• Charm of Undying (Fabric 1.16.1 - 1.19.2) (by TheIllusiveC4)
• CoolCatLib (by ixDarkLorD)
• Debugify (by XanderIsDev)
• Iron Chests (Fabric) (by cyberanner)
• Falling Leaves (Fabric) (by RandomMcSomethin)
• MmmMmmMmmMmm (Target Dummy) (by MehVahdJukaar)
• Trading Post [Forge & Fabric] (by Fuzs)
• YUNG's API (Fabric) (by YUNGNICKYOUNG)
• Pling (by haykam)
• Paradise Lost (by ImmortalDevs)
• Frostiful (by TheDeathlyCow)
• Macaw's Furnitures - Oh The Biomes You'll Go (by Samlegamer_)
• FTB Chunks (Fabric) (by FTB)
• Just Enough Breeding (JEBr) (by Christofmeg)
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Picture this is your mind’s eye; Adrielle in a time long past without any technology. She arrives a work walking through a crowd of people. It is absolutely mayhem! Some in the crowd are carrying roses , some stuffed toys and some little trinkets but very few. Most have rotten tomatoes, blowhorns, buckets of water, soggy noodles and large microphones.
“It is not going to be a good day “ Adrielle thinks to herself. She walks slowly up to her boss, twirling her hair, eyes wide and empty. She is nearly completely desensitized but there is some hope left.
“Good Morning A big crowd out there today, sorry to say most seem pretty riled up” says her boss, Mr Rizz, a man in his 50’s short and plump, losing his hair but growing money off his favorite cash cow Adrielle. He continues
“Step up on the stage little Missy, you love the attention “ as he pats her head , his little money maker
She does not want to but she must. She did not study in college or get married nor did she learn a trade. She takes a deep breath looks around and walks up onto the stage.
The crowd is gathered, maybe 2000 in total. She has 10 minutes to perform and as agreed in her contract each of has an opportunity to give comments back to her performance; or simply react through noises or throwing odds and ends on stage. Some even give gifts. Only a very few however. The gifts are inexpensive but useless as well
She begins to tell a wild story!
“Today I was leaving my home and my life is in danger…
She cannot even finish. The crowd erupts in hatred! Blowing their horns, calling her a liar, throwing tomatoes, unbelievable hate; she has brought disgust on herself! You see, dear reader, the stage Mr Rizz, her boss , offers can be used for good or evil . She chose evil. She chose to lie, act the fool, insult the town and community members, defile the Church, to steal, to use her body in unsavory ways , the list goes on. She thought she was untouchable. After all SHE IS ON STAGE. SHE IS THE STAR! Much better than all those in the lowly crowd.
A few in the crowd timidly walk up and offer her trinkets, flowers and candy. These deluded individuals offer a few kind words
“You are so pretty , “I love your hair “ “Show me your makeup “ things of this nature but also the others have their mics and they each get a minute to tell her their thoughts. I will spare you the defiling words she must endure from the crowd. They ought not be repeated but remember she deserves each and every word!
Now reader it should be told, the crowd buys all the gifts from the owner of the stage, Mr Rizz. It should also be known the more times a day she steps on the stage the more she is paid. Mr Rizz also pays her on the size of the crowd. Bear this in mind please.
After an hour of being eaten alive by the crowd of disgusted people and a few very few, at her side nursing her wounds, she steps down off the stage; picking up her trinket gifts. Adrielle is covered in rotten tomatoes and some have even thrown buckets of cold water and wet noodles. She gets the latter treatment due to her incessant claims she is from Italy and more dominant than the newly settled Americans. She now resembles soggy spaghetti fit for the trash.
Adrielle walks back over to Mr Vagmem Rizz ,
With fake tears she asks him “how much did I earn today, I have these gifts and the crowd was so big and loud , it must be so so much “
Mr Rizz looks at her trinkets, which she can give back for cash and he resells “Ahhh you made $5, on all the gifts, and the townsfolk nearly all showed up today so you earned an extra $10”
She looks at her money. It is not enough to live. I will have to go begging again, sell my body, or get back on the stage, act the fool, speak vile lies and endure the hate , she thinks to herself. She has an idea!!!!!
She exclaims her dead eyes nearly smiling “ Mr Vegman Rizz? Could we not let the mean people in who hate me, please just keep them out. If they are out,there is more room for the people who give me gifts, the only reason more nice people do not come is because of all the big mean people. “
He gives her an evil grin “I am afraid not, dear lassy, do you know I sell them all the tomatoes, bullhorns and pasta?”
“The water they splash on you? I own the water company as well! Little Miss, All are having a jolly time here. They come ! Buy food and drink! After you go home and clean up, they stay! The town sits in my brothers pub and talks and drinks . Laugh at you until the wee hours of the morning!”he turns his back on her and with a hearty laugh his final words
“Tell the world a raccoon nearly killed your son, tell the town the raccoon has rabies and you have to move out of here, tell the town the raccoon tore his ear off and stole his hat, tell the town the raccoon is getting his family! The raccoon will return and kill you all! I will sell many trinket gifts!
Mr Rizz knows he will sell more gifts but more of every else as well!

_ _ _ _ _
Impact and introduction
_ _ _ _ _
His first thoughts about his little predicament were that it was nothing like the anime he’d watched.
Finding yourself suddenly free falling from hundreds of thousands of feet in the sky was significantly more terrifying than it had seemed while cozied up in his bed, wrapped up in three-plus blankets and contently slurping his microwave ramen.
That said, he felt justified in screaming like a little girl. “Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit! Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!” What was happening? Where was he? He had just stepped out of his house for a ramen run at the nearest gas station, and now this was happening. Great, just great, now he wasn’t going to be able to watch anymore anime- he stopped suddenly. “Oh, of course,” he muttered to himself, “That’s what’s going on here.” He was suddenly as stoic as a knight in shining armor as he plummeted through the sky, and he pushed the slightly problematic matter of falling out of his mind and focused on what would be important: His story. First: his name was Caen Eloso. He came from a strange other world with wondrous technology that left nothing to the imagination. Caen was what was in his third year at his school, Hansen Academy High School in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where teenagers his age were taught arithmetic, science and language punctuation before they went off into the world on their own. Colorado was one of fifty individually operating states in his home country called America, which was home to more than three hundred million people and overseen by a President.. America was located on one of 7 continents in his world, called Earth. There were a great many other countries besides America, of which he knew varying amounts about their cultures that he could give little tidbits of information about, but he figured he knew the most about Japan. Japan was basically heaven. The Japanese people were responsible for creating the best possible thing that his world had to offer, a wondrous thing called anime. He had dedicated his life to exploring every nook and cranny that was connected to the world of anime, and there was nothing that brought him more happiness than binging.
However, he figured he oughta remember some cooler stuff about Earth (he couldn’t really expect many people to weeb out with his stories without watching anime in person) if he ever found himself in a tight spot and needed to, say, entertain a dragon or something. Because…
He was ninety-nine percent sure that he had just been isekai’d.

That’s why, while plummeting to what seemed to be his inevitable doom, he kept a level head. Ignoring the previous screaming-like-a-five-year-old fit. Because, of course, anyone that was summoned to another world via falling from the sky always survived; it was kind of a given, otherwise the story wouldn’t get anywhere, duh. Whether it be due to some miraculous vitality, impossible superpowers, a one-time “safe-landing” provided by the dude that summoned them, or (and what he personally was hoping for) a rescue from some either super-shy or super-pissy elf hottie in possession of a huge rack… of swords, you pervert, that dressed in some skimpy armor (that really would do nothing to protect the vital organs, from a defensive standpoint) and who would kick off the protagonist’s harem.
When he actually gave it thought, he realized he wasn’t really all that interested in a harem, and kinda found the thought of one IRL gross. Like, did he even have to explain? But he knew that if he’d said that in an online chat with one of his internet buddies, they would definitely try to overrun his laptop with viruses. In what was now his previous life, he had had little to no experience with talking to girls, let alone “getting some action”. He really hadn’t seen the point, considering how difficult 3D girls were to handle. That said, he never really got into the hardcore otaku-type 2D obsession stuff, like buying lewd figurines and pasting posters all over your room and buying body pillows of your favorite waifu. He was just a hardcore watcher, and that kind of made-up for his lack of other tendencies. He would frequently spend 12+ hours a day shacked up in his room in 6 hour sessions of binging anime at 1.5 times speed; (he wanted to get in as much watching as possible) and that was only on weekdays. Yeah. With school. (Needless to say his grades weren’t exactly top notch) But weekends were another story, with him usually staying up till four in the morning on Friday night and then sleeping until twelve, when he would wake up and choose whether or not to eat before watching until he was told to get off, and then stuffing his fat face in the kitchen to his heart’s content. The point was, he had originally decided he didn’t want to “waste time” on a girlfriend. (Not that he was exactly confident he would be on anyone's radar if he were to try)
Anyways, more and more, (before he found himself falling from the sky of his new world) Caen had found himself feeling lonelier and more depressed as time went by, and so, he decided that in his new life he was going to quit his otaku and introvert tendencies and find the love of his life in what was to be his new world. Quite the goal.
With his mind made up, (this was some relatively quick thinking given the situation; he’d been falling for about four and a half minutes before coming upon this decision and entirely giving up on his old world and everything he had loved in it) (Besides his love of anime) he realized something… interesting. He hadn’t noticed it due to being lost in thought and not being capable of feeling it (probably his magical protection or something that came with being summoned), but he was currently a ball of flame. If he had been wearing clothes earlier during his fall, and he hadn’t actually bothered to check because of his little fit, they were long since burnt to a crisp. Even though he was certain he had a grasp on the situation, he couldn’t stop himself from freaking out just a little bit, especially as he felt himself growing closer and closer to the ground. ‘Alright, you can rescue me now,’ he muttered to himself, though his words were lost to the wind. His eyes widened. He realized he was too fast, far too fast. This entry was apparently going to be very flashy, which he wasn’t against, but… He could hardly gauge distance before he had halved it. Twenty thousand feet, ten thousand feet, five thousand, he broke through low hanging cloud cover, two thousand.. He shut his eyes as tight as he could and pulled his limbs in tight while covering his ears to brace himself and-
Boom.
_ _ _ _ _
Learning to walk and not-squirrels
_ _ _ _ _
The sound of impact deafens him. He instantaneously loses awareness of anything else besides the sound, but somehow remains conscious, unaware of if he had completely shattered into a million billion pieces or not. For time out of mind he couldn’t move any part of himself. His ears ring and his head throbbed something awful. He could not conceive what would make him capable of surviving a fall like that. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he opened an eye to gauge his surroundings…
He was in a crater. Caen had expected as much, but his jaw literally dropped in surprise, something he thought no one actually did. It was at least eight hundred feet from edge-to-edge and four hundred feet deep, the ground smoldering, red-hot and smoky, but surprisingly only warm where he lay (thank you, summoners). He must’ve stayed stagnant longer than he thought for it to have cooled enough to touch. He slowly pushed himself into a seated position, sitting on his right leg and letting his left arm rest on his left leg, which he had bent at the knee. He once again surveyed his crater by twisting his head around.
Quite the entrance. “I guess this fits into the one-time no fall damage category…” he muttered to himself, running his hand through his hair, making note that it was surprisingly silky. “Cause there’s no way this is a vitality thing, right? Way too overpowered.” For a minute he sat like that, until he realized that something was tugging on the back of his mind. At first he ignored it like he would a buzzing insect, but it kept poking at his subconscious. And then he was hit with it with as much force as when his sister sent him to Jupiter for accidentally breaking her new phone; that wasn’t his voice. ‘Huh?’ Neither was that. His eyes darted to the sides of his vision where it gently rested on the sides of his face. His hair. It was much, much longer than it was in his old world, reaching as far as to hang below his pecs. It was shiny and straight, and didn’t look like it had ever been cut. But that didn’t startle him as much as its color did.
Caen thought back to the fairy tales and stuff of his childhood, and about how they tended to over exaggerate the features of their characters and the objects in them so that the average kid could understand it better, with phrases like “as beautiful as a freshly-picked flower”, “as strong as a bull”, “as bright as the sun itself”, and “as white as snow”. Well, now he wasn’t so assuming that those were mere stories and not just incredible experiences from the writers, because he was witnessing something impossibly… beautiful. Because his hair was white. A stark white, with an almost silvery sheen to it. Like when you wake up the morning after a snowstorm and open your window to see if school is canceled, and the snow blinds you when you look at it because it's reflecting the morning sun. Beautiful. He quite literally couldn’t think of another word for it. Slowly, he reached up to touch it again, once again feeling the impossibly smooth sensation. It glided over his fingers like water. And then he saw the fingers of his hand. Long and slender, perfect and unblemished. He was dumbfounded. ‘Are these really… mine?’ he asked quietly with his new voice. ‘A new body was always possible, I suppose, but I thought if that were to happen I would first have to be reincarnated and grow up with it myself. Did this body… come into existence just for me when I got here? I would hate it if I kicked out someone's soul so mine could stay here or whatever.’ He stood shakily. He was tall. Taller than in his other life, where he’d stood at around five-ten, Caen figured he was now around six-two. And, what he found almost as shocking as his hair, was that he was fit. Or perhaps thin would be a better word, something he had never been before. His stomach felt strange to him as it no longer bulged, and when on a whim he attempted the stretches he wasn’t close to being capable of before, he did so with ease. He could reach his feet when he sat and stretched out his legs, and he could even easily touch his toes. He was in the middle of attempting to put his foot behind his head when he realized he should probably get a move on and get out of there. He guessed that he most likely looked like a meteor for any settlement within a few hundred miles of his crash site. He quickly tapped his foot on a particularly smoldery-looking piece of earth to test if he could withstand the heat like before. He once again found it to be only pleasantly warm. With that reassurance in mind, he decided to get himself out of the crater. That was, before he realized he’d need to learn to walk again. He fell hard and broke his fall with his arms. His muscles felt unused and unfamiliar, though the movement of his arms came more naturally than the rest. At first, his legs were very wobbly and his knees shook and moved sharply if he strained them too much or too little, causing them to buckle and him to fall and roll back down to the center of the crater when he tried to walk out. It didn’t help that it was a pretty consistently steep climb to the edge. He must have been at it for at least an hour. But the distance was good practice for him, and with a lot of rolling in the scorched earth he finally managed to get himself to the edge. The adjustment period wasn’t that awful, considering, and he felt he should be kind of proud for learning so quickly. (At least that's how he thought of it) He stood up on the rim of the crater to see exactly where he was. A pretty considerable distance away he could see trees ringing the crater site, and he decided that he had landed in a forest. The further away from the edge the less burnt and bent the trees were, from the shockwave that came with the force of the impact, he decided. He sat down, leaned back and let his feet rest on the decline of the crater. It was incredible. It felt like he’d just woken up after twelve hours of sleep, and his mind was buzzing with activity like he hadn’t experienced before. Everything was so fresh. He didn’t feel tired or winded at all, and he saw everything in vivid detail, even though all there was to see was the smoldering earth and the forest in the distance. He even tried breathing in deep with his nose, but all he got was burnt dirt and he started coughing from the smokiness of it. Despite this, he smiled. He hadn’t felt like this in ages, a thought he had believed was reserved for seventy-year-olds after getting their backs adjusted by a chiropractor. He jumped up, deciding that the first thing he should do would be to find a settlement of some sort, or at least a stream so that he could drink some water. He wasn’t particularly thirsty, but the thought of a cool liquid down his throat made him shiver. He also wanted to eat something, and decided to keep an eye out for nuts or berries in the forest that looked innocent enough. And so he started his trek. Soon he was walking on long, springy grass and gazing at all kinds of fauna that was surprisingly familiar. He couldn’t really see a difference in the trees or bushes at first, but when he plucked a leaf from the low hanging branch of a tree that looked like the one in his backyard, he saw that the pattern of the veins was definitely different, if not by much. He could at least tell that, since he had played under that tree when he was little. He also saw a lot of strange forest critters, and his heightened senses picked up on their presences like a radar. Soon there were dozens of them watching him from the trees, giving him a wide berth but for some reason following, so he still caught a few glances. Most had bushy tails and large ears with short whiskers on their little snouts, and tiny little heads that looked like those of baby foxes. The overwhelming majority were a sandy brown, but a few times he also saw one that looked blue and one that looked red, and even one that was pink, but these were always directly in the shadows of the trees and bushes and would dart away as soon as he tried for a closer look. A different species that looked like a miniature boar no larger than a bowling ball, complete with tusks, a stubby tail and hooves, trotted directly trotted directly through his path with its head held high in what looked like a show of contempt before disappearing into a bush. It was totally adorable and he regretted not trying to pick it up before it had disappeared. He winced internally as he thought of how many of these balls of fluff were incinerated in his landing. Slowly, as he trekked on, the creatures became more and more daring, darting past him and soon getting in his full view shamelessly, but they didn’t seem to have any ill intent, so he really didn’t mind. At least, they didn’t look predatory. (though he inwardly didn’t trust that idea from his knowledge of anime) Suddenly, one that was much larger than the others, probably the pack leader, scurried directly in front of him and stood on its short hind legs, its arms drawn together. It was similar to the way squirrels “stood”. Caen paused mid-step. It had some sort of presence, and its pose seemed to indicate that it wanted him to sit down so they could have a conversation. Unlike the other not-squirrels, (as he decided to temporarily call them) this one’s coat looked much fluffier and was a rich, chocolate brown, and its ears had white tufts at the ends. Its tail twitched and he also noticed that towards the tip of it the hair was also white. It gave off some sort of aura. Caen crouched. ‘Hey there, little guy. What can I do for you?’ He asked in the same voice he would use for a cute dog or other friendly animal. It tilted its head and he had to stop himself from launching at it in a surprise hug attack. It stared at him for a little longer. Then, out of nowhere, it beckoned to him with a little arm, turned, and started running off. For a second, Caen stayed crouched, dumbfounded at what he’d just witnessed, until dozens of the hiding squirrels started running in the same direction as the big one. He shook it off and decided this was supposed to be his first big event in his story, and so he started sprinting after it, because these little guys were speedy. He ran for more than ten minutes, almost losing track of the pack until he caught glimpses of a bushy tail or fluffy ears that kept him on their trail. Since his endurance was off the charts now, he actually enjoyed the chase, and took the opportunity to breathe in the rich forest aroma as he ran. Soon, he broke out into a small clearing, where he saw the leader “standing” beside the mouth of a cave. The once again shy not-squirrels all hid in the trees and bushes that surrounded the clearing, and all he could see were their cute little button eyes glimmering in the leaves. There must have been hundreds of them. He hesitatingly walked over to the giant not-squirrel (because that was what it was in comparison) and crouched down again. ‘Do you want me to go inside there?’ He asked, pointing at the cave, and turning his gaze to the eyes of the creature. It stared at him uncomprehendingly, its black eyes giving no indication of some great intelligence that secretly lurked. He sighed. ‘Might as well,’ he muttered, walking over the cave entrance. It was as dark as one would imagine, but there appeared to be a faint candle light of sorts dancing on the walls around a bend about a hundred feet in. It also smelled heavily like some sort of crushed herb he was unfamiliar with. It almost overshadowed the rancid smell of rotting flesh. He narrowed his eyes at the giant not-squirrel and the rest of the pack hiding in the bushes before walking in. There was definitely something alive in here, and from the smell, it or they were dying.
_ _ _ _ _
Elf hotties and magic
_ _ _ _ _
The further into the cave he went, the more overwhelming the stench of death became. Caen gave himself a second to regain his composure, then covered his nose as he turned the bend. His eyes widened in shock. A pretty girl with silver hair and sharply tipped ears lay upon a bed of leaves, naked save several fern leaves that provided her the barest of modesty. Her form was softly illuminated by several low burning candles that framed her. A singular giant fern rested on her stomach, covering where James guessed the mortal wound was inflicted. Her eyes were closed and she breathed shallowly, and sweat was beaded all over her body. The different colored not-squirrels he had seen earlier were all gathered there, watching her intently, but quickly turned their heads as they heard his bare feet shuffling on the stone floor. All three of them were there, the red, blue, and pink furred not-squirrels, as well as a green one that he hadn’t seen before. They stared at him for several seconds before all but the green not-squirrels scurried behind him. The green one leaned its head down and seemed to whisper something in the ear of the elf. Caen’s world slowed. Her eyes crept open, a rich, deep purple that seemed to shimmer with silver dust like stars. She ever so slightly turned her head to look at the not-squirrel questioningly, and then her gaze drifted to Caen. As their eyes met, he felt a shiver and a volt of electricity passed invisibly between them through their gaze. Her eyes widened with what looked like disbelief, and she smiled at him ever so softly. Caen felt entranced. There was something special about this girl, something so very special, and he felt a stirring in his chest that made his stomach twinge, but not unpleasantly. She beckoned to him with a finger and he slowly approached her and knelt. Those few steps, with her eyes fixated on his, and his on hers, felt like eternity, and he couldn’t break the gaze if he wanted. ‘Greetings, White One.’ She said softly, still not breaking eye contact. Her voice sounded as though it were made to sing. ‘I apologize… I… was meant to be there to greet you upon your arrival. The best I could manage was providing you a safe entrance from the heavens.’ She said sadly, and a tear welled up in the corner of her eye. He hesitatingly reached out a hand and cupped her face, gently wiping away the tear with his thumb. She shouldn’t cry. He knew that, somehow, that it was wrong, that she shouldn’t ever have to experience sadness like that. She breathed in sharply at his touch, and then her gaze softened. ‘Who… are you?’ He asked quietly. She smiled sadly and tears flowed freely on the back of his hand. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t have the leisure to cry with you. I am glad that my friends were able to escort you here and provide you with safe company, for the forest is a very dangerous place, but… more than that, I am glad that I was able to see you… at… least once…’
Her eyes drifted closed. He quickly grabbed her arm and was hugely relieved to find a pulse, ever so faint.
She is so close to death, White One.
She has been holding out so that she could meet you, White One.
She has been waiting so very long for you, White One.
She spent what little mana she had left providing you safe entry into our world, White one.
These sweet-sounding voices echoed in his mind, though all of melancholy tone. He slowly stood and turned to face the not-squirrels.
Please save our Silver Lady, White One.
This voice was deep and strained with pain and suffering. In front of him stood the pack leader. He sat just in front of the other four not-squirrels, all mimicking his position. All Caen could do was nod, even though he was dazed and had no idea how he would be able to help her at all. ‘Show me the wound.’ he declared in a voice that sounded much more confident than he felt.
The four different colored not-squirrels glanced at the leader, and, the words still echoing inside of Caen’s mind like before, he said, ‘Do as the White One proclaims.’ They unhesitatingly scurried to their “Silver Lady” and carefully removed the large fern. Caen did not react how he thought he would. He saw it and his body shook, but not with disgust, or surprise, or horror, but with rage. He clenched his fists and the muscles in his arms grew taut as his fingernails dug into his palms. Her stomach had been ferociously torn open, revealing a sight that was best kept undescribed. His voice shook with power as he spat, “Who… Who did this… to her?”
His head snapped to the not-squirrel leader, his wild, hateful eyes boring into the creature. “We do not know, White One,

A common claim in HP fandom is that Harry doesn’t appreciate Hermione enough. A weirder assertion I sometimes see is that Ron compliments or appreciates Hermione more than Harry.
Admittedly, Hermione does a lot for Harry throughout the books, and he doesn’t always express his thoughts directly to her. Nevertheless, there are many passages where Harry directly compliments Hermione (often using words of very high praise), as well as quite a few where he expresses his admiration of her to other people.
This essay will explore those complimentary passages from the books. I won’t include simple expressions of gratitude (though those exist too between Harry and Hermione), nor will I recount here the many passages where Harry merely thinks highly of Hermione or appreciates her without saying anything aloud. Frankly, that would make this essay much too long, and I want to focus on real compliments and praise.
After we’ve explored how Harry compliments Hermione along with her reactions, we’ll take a look at how Ron tends to praise Hermione, as well as the different way she reacts to both boys. Not surprisingly to most readers here, we’ll see that Harry is the boy Hermione truly loves praise from. Unfortunately in Ron’s case, his compliments almost never land well (if they land at all).
I’m going to keep the commentary shorter here on many passages, as this is primarily intended to be a list to demonstrate just how much Harry appreciates Hermione and thinks highly of her. Nevertheless, we’ll see a number of patterns emerge as we go through.

Harry’s direct compliments

Let’s begin with one of the most well-known interactions in the early books between Harry and Hermione (PS16):

Hermione’s lip trembled and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.
‘Hermione!’
‘Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know.’
‘I’m not as good as you,’ said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.
‘Me!’ said Hermione. ‘Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be careful!’

There’s not much new to say about this passage—Harry is about to go on alone, putting himself in great danger. Hermione’s lip trembles in emotion, and she embraces Harry for the first time in the books, praising him as a “great wizard.” And yet, Harry claims he’s simply not as good as Hermione.
Still, the two of them go back and forth about it in a cute way, as Hermione then says “Me!” and proceeds to implicitly compliment Harry’s friendship and bravery further.
I mention this latter detail of the back-and-forth because it gets mirrored four years later, except this time with Harry being the one to say, “Me?” See OotP15:

‘Harry, you’re the best in the year at Defence Against the Dark Arts,’ said Hermione.
‘Me?’ said Harry, now grinning more broadly than ever. ‘No I’m not, you’ve beaten me in every test –’
‘Actually, I haven’t,’ said Hermione coolly. ‘You beat me in our third year – the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I’m not talking about test results, Harry. Think what you’ve done!’

We know of Harry’s prowess at DADA. Can anyone forget the insanely powerful Patronus Harry conjured at the end of PoA, which Hermione noted was “very, very advanced magic”? It’s again cute that they get into a disagreement, both modestly trying to one-up the praise of the other here while claiming they themselves aren’t the best.
But I already skipped over another moment a few chapters earlier in OotP9:

[Ron] dashed from the room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone.
For some reason, Harry found he did not want to look at Hermione. He turned to his bed, picked up the pile of clean robes Mrs Weasley had laid on it and crossed the room to his trunk.
‘Harry?’ said Hermione tentatively.
‘Well done, Hermione,’ said Harry, so heartily it did not sound like his voice at all, and, still not looking at her, ‘brilliant. Prefect. Great.’
‘Thanks,’ said Hermione. ‘Erm – Harry – could I borrow Hedwig so I can tell Mum and Dad? They’ll be really pleased – I mean prefect is something they can understand.’

The circumstances are complicated here, because Harry’s feeling really conflicted about not getting a prefect’s badge. He doesn’t want to look at Hermione, because I think he feels like she’d be disappointed in him, as she was so enthusiastic about the idea of being prefect with him a few minutes before. I analyzed this whole section in greater depth in another essay, so I won’t get into all of that here.
For the present, let’s just note that Harry is feeling very emotional and is about to launch himself into one of the longest internal monologues in the books, feeling quite down about himself. Yet he still finds the strength to tell Hermione how “brilliant” he thinks she is. Even if he’s hurting and can’t even look at her, he wants her to know he’s proud of her.
This isn’t the only place where Harry spontaneously feels the need to give Hermione compliments even under less-than-ideal circumstances. He seems to place great importance in ensuring that Hermione knows how highly he thinks of her. We particularly see this later in the series. In HBP25, Hermione basically accuses Harry of being mildly sexist because he refuses to take her theory seriously that the “Prince” (the former owner of the potions book) might have been a woman:

‘Listen, Hermione, I can tell it’s not a girl. I can just tell.’
‘The truth is that you don’t think a girl would have been clever enough,’ said Hermione angrily.
‘How can I have hung round with you for five years and not think girls are clever?’ said Harry, stung by this.

Harry’s “stung” that Hermione would think of him as sexist, but he’s specifically disappointed because he knows how brilliant and clever Hermione is. He thinks she’s amazing and incredible and the best in his year at school. I wonder if this passage leads Harry to reflect a bit on how he may not always voice his opinion to Hermione enough, as there’s a marked change in DH, where Harry more frequently tells Hermione directly how highly he thinks of her.
For example, in DH9, in the scene after the trio was attacked by Dolohov and Rowle, Harry calls her “brilliant” for casting a memory charm:

She took a deep, calming breath, then pointed her wand at Dolohov’s forehead and said, ‘Obliviate.’
At once, Dolohov’s eyes became unfocused and dreamy.
‘Brilliant!’ said Harry, clapping her on the back. ‘Take care of the other one and the waitress while Ron and I clear up.’

Later, after Harry and Hermione escape Nagini’s attack at Bathilda Bagshot’s house, Harry calls her “incredible” (DH18):

‘You’re still really angry at me, aren’t you?’ said Hermione; he looked up to see fresh tears leaking out of her eyes, and knew that his anger must have shown in his face.
‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘No, Hermione, I know it was an accident. You were trying to get us out of there alive, and you were incredible. I’d be dead if you hadn’t been there to help me.’
He tried to return her watery smile, then turned his attention to the book.

As in the OotP passage where Harry is feeling depressed about the prefect’s badge, here Harry isn’t really ready to talk. His wand is broken, he was injured by Nagini, and he spent the night having visions of Voldemort killing his parents. It’s not at all an exaggeration to say this is probably the most dire part of Harry’s journey in the books. And yet he still values Hermione enough not only to agree to talk when he’s not ready, but also to immediately forgive her and call her “incredible” for her quick thinking the previous night.
Moreover, we can see how much this means to Hermione at that moment, as she smiles in gratitude at Harry, in contrast to her tear-streaked face.
Later in DH, after Hermione was tortured at Malfoy Manor, we again see Harry expressing his understanding and gratitude for Hermione when he first talks to her (DH24):

Harry had walked up several steps before stopping and looking back.
‘I need you two, as well!’ he called to Ron and Hermione, who had been skulking, half-concealed, in the doorway of the sitting room.
They both moved into the light, looking oddly relieved.
‘How are you?’ Harry asked Hermione. ‘You were amazing – coming up with that story when she was hurting you like that –’
Hermione gave a weak smile as Ron gave her a one-armed squeeze.

Harry calls her “amazing,” and once again Hermione smiles in reply. I should also pause here to note that these superlatives aren’t common for Harry. In fact, they’re unique to Hermione. Harry doesn’t call anyone else “amazing” or “incredible” anywhere in the books.
And these are far from the only times Hermione’s quick thinking saves the day. A few months earlier, she once again apparated Harry (and Ron too) away in mid-air to escape Luna’s father’s house, coming up with a detailed plan in a matter of seconds to hide Ron while exposing Harry during the escape (for strategic reasons). Harry then agrees Hermione is a genius and tells her doesn’t know what they’d do without her (DH22):

‘You’re a genius,’ Ron repeated, looking awed.
‘Yeah, you are, Hermione,’ agreed Harry fervently, ‘I don’t know what we’d do without you.’
She beamed, but became solemn at once.

I’d note another detail here. Ron does compliment Hermione too in this passage, calling her a “genius” multiple times. Yet it’s only once Harry finally tells her how much she means to him that Hermione “beams” in reply. (In a previous essay, I examined how frequently Hermione “beams” at Harry, much more than anyone else.)
This is a pattern we see repeatedly in the books, where Ron’s praise is ignored in favor of Harry’s. Perhaps the clearest example is in HBP9:

[Slughorn:] ‘Oho! “One of my best friends is Muggle-born and she’s the best in our year!” I’m assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Harry.
‘Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger,’ said Slughorn genially.
Malfoy looked rather as he had done the time Hermione had punched him in the face. Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, ‘Did you really tell him I’m the best in the year? Oh, Harry!’
‘Well, what’s so impressive about that?’ whispered Ron, who for some reason looked annoyed. ‘You are the best in the year – I’d’ve told him so if he’d asked me!’
Hermione smiled but made a ‘shush’ing gesture, so that they could hear what Slughorn was saying. Ron looked slightly disgruntled.

Harry had already praised Hermione to Slughorn privately (a fact we’ll come back to), but hearing this praise from Harry causes Hermione to turn toward Harry with a “radiant expression,” overwhelmed with joy at the idea that Harry thought of her as the “best in the year.” (The word choice of “radiant” here is rather special for JKR, as I’ve noted in a previous essay.)
Meanwhile, poor Ron is off to the side, looking “slightly disgruntled” when Hermione shushes him in class for a similar remark.

Ron’s compliments to Hermione

Unfortunately for Ron, Hermione’s reaction in the Slughorn scene is typical. We’ve seen Hermione repeatedly smiling and looking radiant at Harry’s compliments, as well as reacting by praising him in return. Ron, on the other hand, is almost exclusively met with tepid if not outright negative reactions from Hermione even when he says nice things about her.
I drew on a list of Ron compliments created by Ron/Hermione shippers here, but the original list only gave Ron’s lines, without Hermione’s reactions, which I’ve restored below. (The reason for the omission of Hermione’s responses will soon become clear.)
Ron first shows genuine admiration for Hermione back in PoA15 when she slaps Draco and then storms out of Divination. However, the first time Ron actually tries to express this appreciation verbally probably happens in OotP12:

[Hermione:] ‘About You-Know-Who. He said his “gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust –”’
‘How do you remember stuff like that?’ asked Ron, looking at her in admiration.
‘I listen, Ron,’ said Hermione, with a touch of asperity.
‘So do I, but I still couldn’t tell you exactly what –’
‘The point,’ Hermione pressed on loudly, ‘is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who’s only been back two months and we’ve already started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat’s warning was the same: stand together, be united –’

Although this isn’t a direct compliment, we’re told that Ron is actually looking at Hermione “in admiration.” Unlike his more typical annoyance with her, he’s actually impressed here by her memory. And yet Hermione responds with “asperity,” harshly putting him down for not listening better. When Ron gets defensive and tries to react, Hermione “loudly” talks over him and essentially ignores Ron completely.
This is far from the only time Hermione will ignore Ron’s occasional kind words, because she clearly knows it’s unusual behavior. She tells us this directly (OotP14):

‘OK, write that down,’ Hermione said to Ron, pushing his essay and a sheet covered in her own writing back to Ron, ‘then add this conclusion I’ve written for you.’
‘Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I’ve ever met,’ said Ron weakly, ‘and if I’m ever rude to you again –’
‘– I’ll know you’re back to normal,’ said Hermione.

Ron was trying to thank her for help with his homework, but Hermione recognizes this praise as obviously transactional. She has noticed he’s only nice to her when she does things for him, but otherwise his “normal” behavior toward her is a bit rude. (As a sidenote: we’ve already seen Harry repeatedly refer to Hermione as “brilliant.” Ron, in contrast, does call Hermione sort of “brilliant” twice, both times sarcastically referring to theories or ideas he thinks are ridiculous. See CoS13, DH25.)
Ron’s attempts at recognizing Hermione’s achievements also look very different from Harry’s. In HBP5, when Hermione is worrying about her O.W.L. exam performance, Ron does acknowledge Hermione’s academic performance a couple times, in passages that Ron/Hermione fans will point to as evidence of his supposed admiration.
Yet they don’t come off as compliments. They are aggressive and exasperated and almost making fun of Hermione at the end. And look how Hermione reacts:

‘Hermione, will you shut up, you’re not the only one who’s nervous!’ barked Ron. ‘And when you’ve got your ten “Outstanding” O.W.L.s ...’
‘Don’t, don’t, don’t!’ said Hermione, flapping her hands hysterically. ‘I know I’ve failed everything!’
[…]
‘I – not bad,’ said Hermione in a small voice.
‘Oh, come off it,’ said Ron, striding over to her and whipping her results out of her hand. ‘Yep – nine “Outstandings” and one “Exceeds Expectations” in Defence Against the Dark Arts.’ He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. ‘You’re actually disappointed, aren’t you?’
Hermione shook her head, but Harry laughed.

So yes, Ron acknowledges her achievements here, but he does so in the process of telling her to “shut up,” barking at her, and then becoming “exasperated” at her personal goals. I think we can all take a step back and acknowledge that Hermione is a fairly extreme perfectionist, and her level of anxiety at potentially “failing everything” comes across as weird and a bit irrational. Still, rather than helping her “calm down” (as many Ron/Hermione fans would say Ron does), Ron exacerbates Hermione’s level of disquiet, causing her to become “hysterical” and then later embarrassed, reacting in a “small voice.”
Harry would have just clapped her on the back and called her “brilliant” or something, to which she’d probably smile in reply. Harry doesn’t share Hermione’s level of academic dedication, but he still appreciates it, rather than trying to shame Hermione for being an overachiever. Yet Ron manages to make her uncomfortable in several different ways in this scene, even as he recognizes how well she would do.
And we’ve only started on the types of negative reactions Hermione has to Ron’s attempts at recognizing her achievements. In HBP21 after apparition practice in Hogsmeade, Ron cuts in to call her performance “perfect”:

‘Good one,’ said Harry. ‘How’d you do, Hermione?’
‘Oh, she was perfect, obviously,’ said Ron, before Hermione could answer. ‘Perfect deliberation, divination and desperation, or whatever the hell it is – we all went for a quick drink in the Three Broomsticks after and you should’ve heard Twycross going on about her – I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t pop the question soon –’
‘And what about you?’ asked Hermione, ignoring Ron.

Ron’s praise is undermined with the dismissive “whatever the hell it is,” once again making it clear that he doesn’t value Hermione’s attention to detail and high standards. Hermione’s response is, reasonably, then to simply ignore Ron.
Admittedly, Ron appears to realize some of his failings and makes an attempt in Deathly Hallows, reading the Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches book and trying to learn how to compliment a girl. It unfortunately doesn’t go quite smoothly for Ron at first (DH7):

Hermione made purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes.
‘Nice,’ said Ron, as with one final flourish of her wand, Hermione turned the leaves on the crab-apple tree to gold. ‘You’ve really got an eye for that sort of thing.’
‘Thank you, Ron!’ said Hermione, looking both pleased and a little confused. Harry turned away, smiling to himself. He had a funny notion that he would find a chapter on compliments when he found time to peruse his copy of Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches […].

Ron arguably is trying here, but as we know from OotP, Hermione knows Ron’s more typical reaction toward her is rudeness. Hence we see her a “little confused” yet still somewhat pleased.
This kind of dual reaction from Hermione is usually the best Ron can hope for. Unlike Hermione’s instant smiles and happiness from Harry’s compliments, she views Ron with suspicion. Hermione always appears to keep in mind that Ron’s pleasant reactions are atypical and thus not to be trusted. We see this again as Hermione enters before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, wearing a lovely dress (DH8):

‘[…] wow,’ [Ron] added, blinking rather rapidly as Hermione came hurrying towards them. ‘You look great!’
‘Always the tone of surprise,’ said Hermione, though she smiled.

Note the “though she smiled” qualification here, which is pointing out that Hermione’s reaction is not exactly positive and arguably unkind. Hermione is here making a reference to an earlier conversation after the Seven Potters. When Tonks mentioned how “great” Ron was stunning a Death Eater, Hermione reacted positively with “you did?” Hermione was sincerely proud of Ron at that moment, hugging him, and yet Ron reacted with the phrase “Always the tone of surprise,” rejecting her and breaking off from her embrace.
Admittedly, Ron was a bit right in that scene to acknowledge that Hermione almost never recognizes his achievements. Yet in the wedding scene, we see Hermione throw that verbal dig back at Ron, effectively taking what appears to be a more sincere compliment from Ron and undermining it. She’s telling him (and the reader) that he doesn’t generally find her attractive and wouldn’t typically say such a nice thing to her.
In effect, she’s somewhat begrudgingly smiling while taking a swipe at Ron’s more typical behavior.
There’s really only one time in all of the books that I have found where Hermione actually reacts positively (without qualification) to Ron’s praise. That occurs in DH9 after she reveals how she had packed so much in her beaded bag in preparation for the Horcrux hunt and emergencies:

‘I told you at The Burrow, I’ve had the essentials packed for days, you know, in case we needed to make a quick getaway. I packed your rucksack this morning, Harry, after you changed, and put it in here ... I just had a feeling …’
‘You’re amazing, you are,’ said Ron, handing her his bundled-up robes.
‘Thank you,’ said Hermione, managing a small smile as she pushed the robes into the bag. ‘Please, Harry, get that Cloak on!’

We see her here at least giving Ron a “small smile,” though she quickly turns to Harry, more concerned again about him. Still, it’s a legitimate positive reaction to a compliment from Ron. We shouldn’t have to pause and reflect on that so much, except for the fact that this is a rather unique occurrence. Every other time Ron says something nice about Hermione, she ignores it, gets annoyed, dismisses it, gets suspicious or confused, or has some other negative reaction like we saw.
And even this one pleasant moment between Ron and Hermione is immediately undermined a few pages later:

Ron struggled for a moment before managing to extract his wand from his pocket.
‘It’s no wonder I can’t get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they’re tight.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ hissed Hermione, and as she dragged the waitress out of sight of the windows Harry heard her mutter a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his wand instead.

Yes, Ron was happy for a moment and praised Hermione for packing his stuff, but it turns out she did it wrong in Ron’s eyes. She packed the wrong jeans, and Hermione reacts very negatively, telling Ron to shove his wand up his arse. Hermione here must feel like Ron is conforming to the behavior she described back in OotP—he’s only nice until he turns back to his “normal” negative behavior toward her.

Harry complimenting Hermione to other people

We don’t really have space here to investigate the many other times Harry thinks highly of Hermione, is grateful for her, or appreciates some aspect of her in his internal thoughts. But it’s perhaps useful to end this exploration by noting how many other times Harry still manages to praise Hermione verbally, unprompted, to other people.
We can start with the scene that inspired Slughorn in the quotation discussed above, where Ron was disgruntled at Hermione’s ecstatic reaction to Harry’s compliment. See HBP4:

[Slughorn:] ‘Your mother was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn’t believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good.’
‘One of my best friends is Muggle-born,’ said Harry, ‘and she’s the best in our year.’

Note that there’s really no good reason for Harry to praise Hermione so specifically and highly here. Slughorn was discussing Lily, and Harry could have simply countered with the fact that he had talented Muggle-born friends too. Yet he singles out Hermione to compare to his mother’s talent and goes further—calling her the best student in his year.
Ron never has a comparable passage in the books. Many of his compliments or nice moments are very situational with Hermione, not spontaneous praise. This is probably one reason why Hermione also shushes Ron when he tries to echo Harry later with Slughorn: she knows if Harry said something, he meant it and wasn’t just trying to flatter her or be nice because of the situation.
The best Ron can manage on a couple occasions are vague acknowledgments to Harry about Hermione. Such as CoS14:

“What does she understand?” said Harry distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.
“Loads more than I do,” said Ron, shaking his head.

Not exactly a compliment, but this one makes lists of Ron’s compliments sometimes, just because it’s so rare for Ron to say something even this nice about Hermione. Even when Ron is clearly impressed by Hermione slapping Draco and then storming out of Trelawney’s class in PoA15, the most he can manage to say to Harry is:

‘Some day Hermione’s having, eh?’ Ron muttered to Harry, looking awed.

We’re told that Ron’s “looking awed” here, but he still can barely say anything directly praiseworthy about her.
Meanwhile, Harry simply cannot stop himself from saying how amazing Hermione is. As far back as CoS2:

‘Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby ... Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew ...’
Harry, who was feeling distinctly hot in the face, said, ‘Whatever you’ve heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I’m not even top of my year at Hogwarts, that’s Hermione, she –’
But he stopped quickly, because thinking about Hermione was painful.

Remember when we saw that Hermione tried to compliment Harry and tell him he was a great wizard in PS or the best in DADA in OotP? Harry couldn’t help deferring to Hermione, trying to praise her as better. The same thing happens when Dobby speaks of Harry’s “greatness” here—and Harry immediately thinks of the greatest person he knows: Hermione Granger.
Harry can’t even let the Quidditch team think he was smart enough to come up with the Impervius Charm for his glasses (originally during the Quidditch match back in PoA9). When Angelina proposes using the spell again in OotP18, Harry simply has to give Hermione credit:

[Angelina:] ‘[…] Harry, didn’t you do something to your glasses to stop the rain fogging them up when we played Hufflepuff in that storm?’
‘Hermione did it,’ said Harry. He pulled out his wand, tapped his glasses and said, ‘Impervius!’

It’s not exactly a compliment, but it just shows yet again how much he wants everyone to know how amazing Hermione is.
This reflex Harry has to praise Hermione comes up in the strangest places, getting him into arguments with his love interests. When Cho brings up the jinx that resulted in Marietta’s outbreak of pimples, Harry can’t help contradicting her (OotP28):

‘That was a really horrible trick of Hermione Granger’s,’ said Cho fiercely. ‘She should have told us she’d jinxed that list –’
‘I think it was a brilliant idea,’ said Harry coldly. Cho flushed and her eyes grew brighter.
‘Oh yes, I forgot – of course, if it was darling Hermione’s idea –’

Cho is actually quite insightful about the role of Hermione in Harry’s life here. She earlier got jealous when Harry prioritized Hermione on Valentine’s Day, and now she gets annoyed at how “brilliant” Harry considered “darling Hermione’s idea.”
Just as in Quidditch with his glasses, Harry can’t help acknowledging Hermione’s brilliance, even with another girl he likes. He could have been a little more diplomatic with Cho in disagreeing with her, but instead his reflex is to defend Hermione.
Perhaps the most absurd moment of praise for Hermione randomly comes up as Harry’s breaking up with Ginny (HBP30):

‘I never really gave up on you,’ [Ginny] said. ‘Not really. I always hoped ... Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more – myself.’
‘Smart girl, that Hermione,’ said Harry, trying to smile.

Think about what’s going on in this moment. Ginny just admitted how strong her feelings for Harry are, that she “never really gave up” on him, from when she was a young girl. She’s effectively trying to inform him of her commitment, of his status as her first love. If Harry had deep feelings for Ginny, we might expect him at this point to recognize how long Ginny had cared, how much she had tried to learn to be “herself” around him, to get him to notice her.
And instead the first words from Harry’s lips are to acknowledge how smart Hermione is. He’s breaking up with his girlfriend… and praising another girl’s intelligence? I know Harry can be rather thick sometimes, but this is not the thing to do in the middle of a break-up. It’s no wonder Cho was so jealous of Hermione.

Conclusion

Once again, as in many of my other essays, I think we can see patterns emerging around Harry and Hermione’s unique relationship. We see them repeatedly praising each other spontaneously. And Harry can’t help but blurt out how brilliant Hermione is to other people, even in situations where it’s arguably inappropriate.
Ron’s efforts at compliments are nothing like that, unfortunately. We might even feel a bit bad for him when he does begin to make an effort in DH, as it’s clear Ron is never going to have the impact on Hermione that Harry’s compliments do.
I mentioned at the outset that there are many people who say Harry isn’t appreciative enough toward Hermione. It’s true that we don’t hear him say it aloud all the time, particularly in the early books. Yet it’s very clear even in the first book that Harry thinks Hermione is a better wizard than he is. And he doesn’t hesitate to tell her, or to announce it to Dobby in CoS.
As the series progresses, Harry’s outward appreciation increases, to the point where we see him calling her “amazing” and “incredible” and the “best in our year,” terms that he only ever says about Hermione. Perhaps even more importantly, we see that Hermione knows how special she is to Harry, how sincere his compliments are, as we see her repeatedly responding with emotional smiles and even a “radiant expression” to these words.
I didn’t even explore most of the passages where Hermione praises or compliments Harry in the books (and there are plenty more of those too), but we can see the strength of Harry and Hermione’s friendship and care for each other. They both strive to raise each other up, especially in stressful times when they need it the most.
I’d like to acknowledge members of the HMS Harmony Discord server for their support and suggestions. Specifically, thanks to Jiraffas for suggesting an essay on this topic. Thanks for Dragonfly for convincing me to include a section on Harry complimenting Hermione to other people and for reminding me of the Angelina moment in OotP. In general, I’m grateful for the discussion and commentary from the Harmony community.
If there are any moments you think I missed, please point them out in comments! I’d like this essay to be a resource for those who want to debunk fandom claims concerning Harry’s supposed lack of appreciation toward Hermione.

Hi!! Time to throw my hat into the ring. I have been fortunate enough to make some truly meaningful friendships online. I figured hey, if I could find them, why not look for a relationship this way too?
What I'm looking for:
End goal? A life partner, in every sense of the word. That person who will be there for you no matter what, and you for them. Someone who I can make hot cocoa for and spend all night with, huddled under blankets on the sofa watching movies and talking about life. :)
But of course, it takes time to foster a relationship that is at that point. I like to pace myself when getting to know someone for that very reason. I want to be sure that I can give my whole self to a person, you know? That is some vulnerable stuff. So to start, it'd probably just be chatting online before graduating to more and more stuff slowly.
Anyway, that’s the preamble. Now into a bit about me, I guess. I’m 26, as mentioned in the title. I’m from the northeast of the US. I love having deep conversations about life/philosophy/relationships, but also really enjoy video games, film, novels, comics, etc.
Before I go any farther, I might as well start with the "fundamentals" so I don't waste your time/vice-versa.
The fundamentals:

• Physically? I’m 6’2. Short brown hair, blue eyes, paaaaasty white.
  
• I’m from a Hispanic background. Still learning the language though. That’s been really fun and challenging.
  
• Career Goals: Currently 1 year left in undergrad. (Yeah, at 26… long story short, health issues are stupid. Happy to share if you want). I’m pretty driven and take school seriously. I'm approaching my future career with the same level of ambition and drive. I’m likely headed out to California/LA after I get my degree, just so you're aware. I’m looking for something serious that’d eventually be in person, so if that locale doesn’t work, we probably aren’t a match—but I wish you the best! :)
  
• I do envision having kids when I can feasibly financially support them and am in a healthy relationship.
  
• I lean liberal on the social and political spectrums, but I'm not staunchly liberal. It's not a major part of my identity, but I know it can be important to people, so I'm just putting it out there.
  
• I do believe in God. I was raised Catholic, but I'm still figuring “belief” out. Though I don't ascribe to everything in Catholicism anymore, it's still a part of my background and of who I am. If you’re from a different or no faith background, that’s totally fine, but I don't think I'd be compatible with someone who is an atheist. If that's you, no worries, everyone has their own path, and I wish you the best. :)
  
• I don't do drugs or smoke. I'm okay if you're 420-friendly as long as it's in moderation. I do drink, but very rarely and mildly.
  
• Ideally, you'd be located in the US/Canada, but if you feel that we'd really jive and you're located elsewhere, feel free to reach out anyway. :)
  
• Looking for someone plus or minus ~4 years in age from me.
  

Random interests:

• Long drives by the sea or through the countryside
  
• Dogs. I have 2 little white floofs. Pets in general are awesome too. :)
  
• Classic movies (and film in general). These are my bread and butter.
  
• Anime - Not super well-versed, but I’m in love with Studio Ghibli and Your Name. I’ve sampled a lot of other stuff too.
  
• Star Wars... maybe a little too much.
  
• Video games - low-key games like Stardew Valley or The Sims but also stuff like Overwatch, Battlefront II, and some MMOs
  
• And more! (If you wanna get to know me)
  

If you read all this, thank you. I know I can tend to ramble, but I hope this gives you a good sense of me. Figured I’d put it all out there. Honesty begets honesty.
If you‘re interested, feel free to message me. If we hit it off, we can either switch to my real Reddit account or another platform like Discord. Just as a warning though, I don't have any social media outside of that.
If you’re not interested, no worries. Either way, I wish you the absolute best on this journey that is life. :)