Hi everyone! This is my first post on Reddit, trying to be specific so I hope it’s not too long...
I have inherited a Nikon D3300 + Tamron 18-200mm f/3.5-6.3 VC, and after some months of use I’m reaching limits in low-light performance. I regularly shoot family/friends and religious events, often in buildings with bad-mediocre lighting I can’t do much about. Handheld, often can’t use flash. So typically, max aperture, shutter at 1/60 (or 1/30 in extreme cases) and auto ISO regularly hitting the defined limit (3200, higher gets really noisy)... PP does help (I sometimes do it), but photography is just a hobby or a help/service, so I would like to start with better low-light performance at the capture level.
Therefore, I am looking at faster lens(es) in the short/medium range, like up to 100mm. I’m aiming for 1.8 or even 1.4 aperture, but I’m a bit confused about which lenses would be most relevant to invest in, since I would like to keep it below let’s say 600 € (I’m in France, and yes I will buy used).

1. Range: I know fast zooms are heavy and expensive, but I don’t think I will be satisfied with only primes. On the other hand, looks like no zoom (at a reasonable price) can beat the 1.8/1.4 aperture of primes.
2. If I take an APS-C lens (which makes sense right now), I’m struggling to get rid of the fear that IF I EVER get a full-frame it will become rather useless.
3. If I get a (crop?) mirrorless one day, would a DSLR crop lens work on it? Guess it depends on the brand and other details...

I believe the Sigma 24-70mm F2.8 EX DG HSM would be a great zoom. However, on APS-C the range would start at 36mm (did I get this number right?), and I know I would miss out on the wide angle. I could add the Sigma 18-35mm F1.8 DC HSM Art, but given its price (and weight) I wonder if it wouldn’t be smarter (and cheaper) to get one or two f/1.4 or 1.8 primes in that range.
There’s also the cheaper Sigma 17-50mm f/2.8 EX DC HSM, but it would overlap with the 24-70 range and the aperture is the same.
What do you guys think? What approach would you suggest? And, more importantly, what specific lenses (primes or zooms) can you point at? Brands, models and their versions, etc. I prefer to spend a bit more if it’s worth it btw. Macro (small flowers) is also a + but not decisive.
TL;DR: What combination of fast lenses (primes or zooms up to ~ 100mm) would you suggest for good low-light performance on a Nikon D3300, in a budget of ~ 600€? First time purchasing gear.

Holy moly Nintendo cooked a banquet fit for a monarch and gave us a freaking Warbow with this season in the form of the Wellstring V, it’s a jack of all trades, master at ALL.
Paint? Stupid levels at full charge, easy 1.4K turf every match.
Close quarters combat? Incredibly consistent OHKO with half charge, the tap shots can also one shot.
Support/chip/trapping? Grounded full charges cover so much area, you are guaranteed to get at least one or two 30 damage pellets in plus the stupid amount of paint and opponents are just a splattershot tap, indirect bomb, splatana slash or even another full charge and they’re sent straight to Crusty Shawn’s in an ice box.
Long range threatening / long range area control? Big Stringer doesn’t want you to know this, but aim a little up, full charge a jump shot and all your bullets clump up together in one spot, and the gimmick downside of all your long shots hit every single side of the barn and miss the apple is gone. You threaten a 90dmg - death to everything you see and bring ruin to everything in a 45* angle in front of you. BTW it OHKOs through spawn armour, because why not. And because you output so much paint, your weapon provides so much long range passive control that you get to sit with pencil at the ‘I can stall zones 1v3 by myself table’.
Object damage? + 10% damage to Splash Wall. The Crab is slain, Big Bubbler has fallen, millions must shred Tenta Brellas.
Kit support? Ink efficiency is so good you can toss out location like candy, Wave serves well as a distraction so you can shoot them as they look away and Ultra Stamp lets you be funny.
Cover / map terrain shenanigans? Overpeaking ledges / boxes works really well with this weapon and arcing your shots skyward turns you into a flyfish artillery that makes nowhere on the map safe.
Playing this weapon feels like Splatoon 1 damage up E-litre 3k. It’s called the Wellstring V because your’re going 5W0L when you bring this to Anarchy. Mister Bear and Dedf1sh themselves modified this weapon with hidden Golden Egg Phials and Colour Chips to allow a GrizzcOrder Monster into multiplayer to let you be the new Splatoon 2 Launch Tri Slosher.
Using this weapon makes you Apollo smiting Achilles for the death of Hector, Using this Weapon makes you Death, Destroyer of Worlds.
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So anyways see you all mid season patch and heavy bow gets nerfed into the ground and TriZooka remains unchanged again.

Maybe I'm just playing devil's advocate because I saw a post that said "Sprite is basically Assel" before I even started watching this season, so I've really been trying to see this season from Sprite's point of view so far.
I don't want to suggest that Sprite is perfect. He has been very rude to John in some ways, talking about his belly a lot. It might be a cultural difference but I can tell it's very hurtful. Also he seems to like a lot of things to be "just so" and becomes moody and inflexible. Doesn't seem like a great attribute in a partner. There's also the angle that it seems like Sprite is only interested in John because he is in the UK where he wants to be. But I'm not sure that Sprite has been very deceitful to John about that because he hasn't showed too many signs that he even likes John that much.
Meanwhile John to me shows signs of being a gigantic love bomber, on the phone he was pointedly saying "I love you", "I miss you", "You never say it back" seemingly trying to force Sprite into saying it back. Then in England he puts up all these photos that makes Sprite really uncomfortable. Then he tries to bring sprite on a trip with him where he is not really considering how Sprite feels about the thing
"if I lose, we go home, but if you lose we stay out"
Honestly I'd be so upset if my partner tried to force me to stay out, make me.drink what I considered to be dirty beer.... Urgh.
In general I see a pattern where John is not clued into Sprite's feelings at all, perhaps because he's afraid Sprite doesnt really like him in the same way he likes Sprite. He doesn't ask those questions or ask what would make him more comfortable. In John's mind, the relationship is already several steps down the road further than Sprite thinks it is, which means John is rather delulu. I can actually understand what Sprite is uncomfortable around him.
At the end of episode 3, however they did have a nice meal where they actually spoke about things a bit more maturely and had a good time together which gave me some hope that they could work out.

First/Previous
Since I knew there was a time before, I’ve wanted it, but that was child’s hope; even as a boy I wanted a dream. I wanted some divine being to enter from heaven and tell us all how it should be, but that wasn’t something I could ever count on—of course. Is there a god? I think so. I’ve seen those things and if they exist, then surely there’s a maker on the other end of it—god made both the light and the dark if the word’s to be believed and all we can hope for is a glimpse of the former. Even for a second.
The streets were soaked with blood and so many artillery rounds were fired into the sky—many I witnessed missed Leviathan—that I forgot what silence was like (not to mention the screams and there was a lot of that).
In the scrambling, I found I was reentering deeper into Golgotha and that wasn’t good. There was the ever-present thought that Maron was around every corner; the man had haunted my thoughts for longer that he should have and every time it was like an overwhelming force. It was simple enough after all, he was a piece of the past, a piece I could theoretically reach out and touch and that was what kept me to him.
In the fray of bolting citizens, I pressed myself to the exterior of a wall—I’d neared the stairs which once led to my apartment—and I kept out of the way of those that mindlessly went; some of those which rushed from the onslaught were those afflicted with skitterbugs and many of them either hobbled on blackened legs or—and this was rare—comrades or family helped to carry those which could not carry themselves. It was a baffling sight. A man carried a woman like a child (her toes had fallen off and her legs were black to the knees) and though he strode on with her, his own boots were caked with a mixture of blood and earth. An older girl led a young boy from the whirlwind of dust which was kicked up in the square; the boy’s eyes were whited, and his hands were curled to his chest, discolored. People, whatever duality there is, cared. There was not a drop of the apathy I’d learned and encouraged in myself.
I chewed like a mad dog through my bindings, and it was of little use; I yanked at the cord which secured my hands together and received rope burn in return. “Bitch!” I cussed the thing, but the flames in the sky were so loud, the bangs and vibrations from the artillery consumed all so it was like yelling in a barrel. I swung my hands out in front of me, feeling useless and felt a sudden urge to try again. I bit into the cord and repetitively motioned my jaw against the pressure of the cord, like I was going to saw through it with my teeth. Ha! Another yank is what brought my left hand free, but not without tearing a triangle of skin away from my wrist.
The cord dropped to my feet, and I looked around; a woman brushed past me, nearly toppled over my foot and I caught her by the wrist before she went head-over. She violently thrust from my grasp and screamed something at me. Another bout of flames burst from Leviathan’s maw as it circle-dove overhead. The heatwave from the blast exploded across my face so that I recoiled from the sky itself till I was on the ground, and I pushed myself from the earth and ran half dog-like from my place there at the wall. Where? It was hard to say where when every person that touched-by seemed to send me in another direction; in the madness, it was impossible to tell my course.
With time and effort, I found my way to the opening where the hydro towers were, three pillars which rose above Golgotha’s skyline, each one a testament to human resilience—engineers laborers toiled untold hours under Lady’s father to construct them. The hydro towers exploded into rubble as Leviathan slammed into them. Rock rained down as cutting shards and destructive boulders. A man lay beside my feet where he'd been pinned by the onslaught—white concrete kept him there by his chest—he gasped for air and blood already formed around him. In a moment, I looked away at the dying man, his half-whited eyes bulging at me. Meat hung from the left side of another man’s face as he cradled his head in his hand and moved like he was stoned and sat among the stomping feet; he slumped into the spot he sat and did not move till others came by him in a hurry and he simply fell onto his side like a toy animal.
The screams were too much. I looked to the towers, the nubs which had broken away like bad teeth against the red sky, and whole people fell alongside the rubble, limbs and showers of blood and Leviathan latched atop the towers and rocked its massive body so that the structures slipped directly from their foundations and tumbled over like pins. I ran and again there was nothing but chaos, nothing but mind-numbing wilder thoughts—it was grim and there wasn’t a place for coherency; it was all snaps of images.
In the mess of bumbling limbs, I pushed through to the hall of Bosses and there were people there already, rushing the stairs; the ground shook and I assumed it must’ve been the towers. The things demolished all in their path, and briefly, I saw the ramshackle structures which normally stood in their shadows come slanting over and people leapt from those places too and landed poorly and there was a cacophony of tremors through the earth—it felt as though hell should open.
The steps at the base of the hall were flooded and it was a fight to climb them as legs came high up from ahead and swiped at those behind and I kept my hands ahead of me to block whatever foot may come my way.
Wall men stood ready with their rifles at the tops of those steps and fired their weapons indiscriminately into the crowd. Bodies, big and small, piled atop the steps after a brief bullet dance and it came that I wasn’t only climbing stairs, but corpses; the warmth of their flesh as I clawed ahead remained and blood fog hung in the air. That grouping of wall men, casually lined before the doors of the hall were overtaken and they disappeared, their rifles cackled and came alive with muzzle flashes and the animal hands of the horde brought them to ground.
Us, the horde, funneled through those front doors and for a moment, in the thick walls of the hall, the outside world audibly disappeared; the blood and dust remained, but it was quieter save the shuffling feet and cusses of passersby I was carried deeper.
Those that worked the underground went quickly and I followed, and those ignorant followed for the sake of survival and it was not long till we stumbled into the Boss’s lair. With room, people dispersed like water through the tunnels and found dark recesses to tend their wounds or mourn whatever was lost and the explosive open air had been fully replaced by the quiet black oppressive mumbles of people taking stock of all those that had died. And all those that would. Every few moments, the walls shook, and dust fell from the ceiling fixtures.
A few haggard folks moved to the doorway which led to the damp room which led to the kitchen, and they slammed the door shut and latched it and began to check adjacent rooms for things to barricade the way.
“Stop!” said a man in the dim flickering underground light—I was surprised to see the man was me, “Leave it open! Others might need help.” I retraced my steps to the small faction that’d gathered there at the doorway. “You can’t just let them die out there. Let them in.”
“Shut up!” a skinny girl with her hair pulled back on her malnourished skull spoke gruffly; she choked, coughed—dust clung to her clothes—she’d been near the collapse of the hydro towers if I guessed. “Step off, or I’ll—
“Or you’ll what?” I shouted.
The girl put up her fists, two lumpy stones, and in stupid response I closed the distance between us. With speed, her fist met my nose, and I stumbled back on my heel.
Without hesitation, I brought up my own hands and landed a blow to her stomach. She craned forward, gasped on repeat, and took a knee.
Blood wet my upper lip, and I wiped it away with my forearm.
“Move,” I said to the others by the door; there were two: a woman and a boy that was nearly a man.
The boy charged headstrongly, attempted a kick and I easily shoved his small frame against the tunnel wall; the hard metal sounded a meaty thud against his body and the woman launched unseen at me, raked her nails down the back of my neck, and tore at my collar. I kept a forearm to the boy’s throat and rocked his head with my free elbow. Once he wept and spit red, I let him go; the boy slid into a sit and I spun on the woman, shoving her away. My left leg began to give, and I used the wall over the boy’s head as support. I swung at her with a wild claw and my fingertips grazed her nose as she fell away to the opposite wall.
“Stop it!” I shouted.
She launched at me, and my leg gave out under her tackle, and I stumbled half-on the boy, my feet kicked helplessly at her, and the boy regained his composure and began to crawl towards me. We wrestled and then the girl I’d knocked in the gut rejoined the fray. I was done. They had me pinned and spat curses at me and took turns shoving my head into the floor.
“You’re going to get us killed,” shouted the woman, “Are you stupid?”
I grinded my teeth and tried to throw them off; I was overpowered and easily pressed down again.
The overhead lights flickered with another deep earthy vibration and the trio let go of me in an instant—I came up swinging my arms like crazy and as I went to kneel before propelling myself to stand, a hand rested on my shoulder. I spun on the hand and was met with the black mouth of a 9mm pistol—that froze me fast.
The owner of the weapon—a wall man by the look of her fatigues—motioned for me to stand and I did. Her eyes were far off and nervous and the metal shook in her outstretched hand. “Against the wall!” she barked at us; she was small-framed and youthful but full grown, and I could easily push her out of my way if not for the pistol. We went to the wall, and she moved to the door while keeping the gun drawn on us. She watched us and glanced at the door. “It’s latched! Who latched the door?” She asked.
No one spoke. The other three looked to their feet; I initially refused to rat, and snorted blood—my nose throbbed and by touch I could tell it swelled already.
“Well? Why’s it closed?” she asked the question more like a desperate child than a person with control. “C’mon!” The 9mm rolled limply on her wrist as she said the word, like she was attempting to draw the confession from us with the motion.
“There’s an attack. They’re killing everyone,” said the boy.
The girl and woman nodded.
“Who?” asked the wall man.
“Demons, muties,” said the boy, “Big stuff. Everyone’s dying.”
The ground shook as if to emphasize his point.
The wall man studied us for a moment, lingering last on me and for the longest and she took a long breath and let the sigh out dramatically slow. “I know you,” she motioned at me with the gun, “You’re that maniac. The one that tried to murder everyone.” Her eyes fell then returned and she put her weight on the door while maintaining the barrel of the gun eye-level in my direction.
“I ain’t gonna’ hurt anyone,” said. I briefly thought about smiling but decided that’d look worse.
“How do I know that?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said the boy, “He tried to kill us already!” His voice cracked with adolescence; the blood I’d spilled from his mouth coated the front of his holey shirt.
The trio nodded all together—everyone agreed that I was a maniac killer.
“They latched it,” I said, “Cowards.”
A thump came from the other side of the door which frightened the wall man and she leapt from the spot she’d leaned—it took several full seconds to realize her gun went off; there was a flash, and my ears rang. I stumbled from the knot of people and slunk a couple of feet from the space by the door. The girl—the one I gut-punched—collapsed to the floor while holding the right side of her face. The women crowded the girl, panicked, the boy sprinted past me and disappeared deeper into the underground, and the wall man stood there with a wretched blank expression. There was a long moment which hung in the air; I could not hear and then it came back, and it was the girl’s screams I heard first.
Upon stepping to them, I saw the prone girl had been shot just so—through the cheek. Her eyes rolled from likely spinal damage; whatever the angle, it seemed to have ripped through irreparable nerves and she bled a lot. There wasn’t any hope for that girl.
“Well,” I said to the wall man, “Finish it. No reason to make her suffer.”
The girl on the ground writhed unnaturally and caterwauled while the woman by her side attempted to calm her.
Greater became the sound of the belabored hands on the other side of the door; then a hollow-sounding gunshot came from the other side; were they shooting the door? Or each other? Another round—human screams.
The wall man shook her head. “I didn’t mean it. It was an accident.”
I tried to hold the wall man’s gaze, but she didn’t seem able.
With speed, I moved to the wall man, reached for the gun which dangled helpless by her side—her initial response was to flinch, pull the weapon from my reach; our eyes locked and I clenched my jaw. She could’ve killed me. There wouldn’t have been surprise from me if she had.
She let go of the gun and I nodded, and she nodded and the woman kneeling by the girl threw herself over her. “Please,” protested the woman, “Please don’t!”
With the aid of the pistol, I was given space, and nothing was said. I mentally prepared myself for the ringing which accompanied gunfire in small spaces, even tilted my head away with my free palm up and took aim and the girl jerked once then went still.
With the ringing going and sound returning, the drumming on the door returned, as well as the quiet weeps of the woman; she crawled to the wayside of the hall, pressed her back against the wall and rested her chin on her knees with her arms around her shins. She didn’t rock to or fro and hardly made any noise at all. But the small and quiet sobs remained faintly there.
First/Previous
Archive

I just recently started getting into SM64 speedrunning. Initially I started learning 16 star, as it feels like the most approachable for beginners. But I’ve been drawn to 70 star over any other category. This category has a lot more fun strats and stars that aren’t in 16 star. Plus, it’s fun to figure out a good route, which stars are faster, which strategies to use, etc.
So I’ve been learning all the stars from the 70 star route on Ukikipedia. As a complete noob, I figured I’d rank my top 10 most difficult stars in the run. This could serve as useful info for anyone looking to get into the category.
Also, this list only counts the EASIEST strat for each star, not necessarily quickest. So you won’t see Pillarless, Breezeless, etc on this list.

1. Behind Chain Chomps Gate (Bomb clip)

Idk how this is considered a beginner trick. It took me several tutorials and hours of practice to even land once. I recently got an Usamune practice ROM, and the first thing I did was dedicate 2 hours straight to just this one trick. Despite all my grinding, I’m only up to a success rate of 1 out of every 5 or so attempts.

1. Stomp on Thwomp

This star is very long and movement heavy. It’s difficult to memorize the movement, and there are lots of easy places to mess up, resulting in death 90% of the time.

1. Cruiser Crossing Rainbow (no lakitu bounce)

I find this star so difficult, even with the beginner strat. The triple jump right at the beginning is a super hard trick right off the bat. The wall kick to get on top of the maze feels insanely precise. And it’s easy to miss a wall kick on the blocks leading up to the ship, and fall to your death.

1. Tricky Triangles

Another RR star. This one is mainly on the list because of the long jump to the falling blocks. I miss it 9/10 times in practice. Then you have the triangles, with a very tight timer.

1. Slip Sliding Away

The slide in CCM. I’ve been trying to learn the skip that goes straight to the bottom of the slide, but I haven’t managed to land it even once. The one thing keeping me from ranking it higher is that I’ve come close several times. So I know with a bit more practice, I’ll probably be able to get it.

1. Swingin In The Breeze

I came into this star thinking it would be an easier one. And I was right for the most part. It’s not too bad until the triple jump off the flame thrower. It’s so hard to get the right angle, land on the right spot, and get the timing right. To add to the challenge, you’re on one of those falling blocks, so you have no time to set up your angle and distance for the jump.

1. Bully the Bullies

The movement to reach the bullies platform gives me so much grief. I keep messing up the long jump by the volcano and getting burned. And once you get to the bullies platform, you have to find an extremely precise spot and time your jump perfectly to get all three bullies into the lava at once. Then another extremely precise jump to get the boss bully into the lava. If you mess up, you have to fight the bullies the normal way, and if they gang up on you, it’s run over.

1. Bowser in the Fire Sea Reds (beginner cycle)

Idk why, but the movement on this star feels much more advanced, even with the most beginner strats. Perfectly executed roll-outs, speed kicks, managing distance and angle, it’s going to be hours of grinding on the Usamune before I can even begin to worry about a “cycle”. For now, I just go slowly and use “let’s play” strats.

1. CCM 100 + Big Penguin Race

Maybe I just suck at slides, but I can’t seem to not miss coins. I always end up missing between 5-10, ruining the entire star. And that’s without taking the race into consideration. Having to go fast makes me miss even more coins. The penguin keeps bumping me off. I take corners too fast and fly off. This star gives me so much trouble that I actually don’t do it on my route. I instead do a modified version of Slip Slidin Away with 100 coins, but I do the slide first, then get the rest of the coins after spawning the slide star.

1. Hot Foot it into the Volcano (lava boost)

This trick will be the death of me. I haven’t even managed to come close to getting a successful lava boost, even after putting in hours of practice. For my money, it’s the hardest level in 70-star.

Now before you say anything, no, I don’t think of her in a “I really miss being with you and want you back” kind of way. Far from it. In actuality, I really can’t put my finger on why I think of her, or my true feelings in general. I’d like some questions I can ask myself to maybe think about it from a different angle, so if you have any, leave a comment.
For context, she was my first love and the first person to truly care for me, and my time with her is a period in my life I think about very fondly. In fact, it felt like a dreamy era in my life, a byproduct of rose colored glasses I’m sure. We met in college, and over the summer, some health/mental things happened with her, which I still don’t fully understand, changing her in a way, leading to the breakup. If you’re confused by this, so am I to some extent.
The issue is that I would like to become apathetic; I want to not care, and I am confused why that isn’t happening. I want to leave her in the past. My therapist and I came to the conclusion that it’s just that I once cared about her to a great extent, a feeling which doesn’t just go away with a change of circumstances. Part of me thinks I want something more from her, like a big apology or clearer explanation. Maybe I just don’t like the idea of her forgetting our past, something it seems I am incapable of doing. Maybe I want her to feel like I did, mourn like I have, and suffer.
But none of these explanations feel right. I don’t have resentment for her, I don’t want to be her friend, I don’t miss her, but I do appreciate what it was.
The only thing I think I can be sure of is that I don’t want her to forget me. I don’t want her to forget our moments. Maybe I know deep down that I think of them so highly because they changed me so much. She introduced me to intimacy and affection, how can I forget that. But she has loved others before me, and will continue to love after. To her it will never be as special as I see it, and maybe I can’t accept that.
All this being said, I want to reiterate that I do not miss her, I do not miss us. If she were to ask me right now to get back together, I wouldn’t even think about saying yes. The relationship I have now is healthier, more supportive, and far more caring. I simply realize how much of an impact she had on my life, and someone like her becoming a stranger, though it is want I want, doesn’t feel right.
Has anyone felt this way?

For anyone who wants to see how things began.
https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/S97b2fqIjx
“In what universe would I ever do you a favor? “ I say, sweeping the floor of the reinforced barn.
“It’s not a favor, it’s a trade, bud.
What do you want in return? “ Trenchcoat asks from within the coffin-like cage.
“To be back home, 8 months ago. “ I reply.
Over the past few weeks I’ve managed to integrate myself into the day to day life on the farm. Things are still a grim, horrifying slog, but with every day it gets a bit easier to deal with.
“Give me something I can do. “ The creature pleads.
“Why, so I can wind up on the end of another ‘ Gotcha’ moment? I’m good. “ is my answer.
A few minutes of silence go by, Augustus breaks it.
“I don’t know many secrets of the universe. Facts, not really my bag. But I know a couple.
How about I share one with you?
No one, not the pope, not my brother, not the shit-bird perched on the highest branch of my twisted family tree, knows what happens when you die.
Some of us never will, of course. Others have ways of avoiding it, but at the end of the day, when the lights truly go out, we know next to nothing.
We do know one thing though. There is judgement, by who? Who knows? Why? Not important.
But at the end of the day, if your battery can’t be recharged, you really want to be thinking about how many marks are on each side of the ledger. “
I don’t reply, and for the next hour or so I ignore the pleading and hinting Trenchcoat does.
But that night, as I sip acidic tea, and try to get a handle on how in the fuck old televisions function, his offer is at the forefront of my mind.
He wants to kill, specifically 6 teenagers who, according to him, have been murdering classmates yearly in a twisted ritual.
He wants me to think this is some kind of noble act, he frames it as almost superheroic. The evil prick knows how I feel, knows that I see the blood on my hands every day, and would kill ( possibly literally) for some way to atone.
Is it a play? I honestly don’t think so, something about how eager the twisted thing is, about how he’s treating the situation as a buyer’s market makes me think something about this makes it important to him.
He offers me everything besides safety and protection. I’m desperate for help, but I have no way to hold him to any agreement.
So the thought rolls around in my mind, staving off the few hours of sleep I get.
“Okay, so, I have it on good authority that tea is supposed to taste better over here. What the hell is wrong with this? “ I say, sitting around an outside table with Sylvia, Dafydd and Colin.
Sylvia smiles, “ Barium, calcium, and a touch of castor oil. “
I look at the brew, then at her.
“If I had told you when you got here you need to drink that to mitigate the effects of working with void touched objects and creatures, you’d have assumed the worst, and found a way to avoid drinking it.
Good to see you becoming more perceptive though. “ Sylvia explains.
“That’s called paranoia, Syl. “ I reply.
She laughs, lighting a cigarette.
“Do you know why I’ve let you figure things out on your own? “ The ancient woman asks.
“Accepted? Yes. Understood, not in the slightest. “ I answer, wondering what sadist invented the scone.
“It’s because I need a leader. Someone who can understand, not a boy who puts his head down and listens to orders.
Someone who can make their own decisions when the time comes.
And I think that time is coming soon. “ Her statement feels like a question.
“If I chose to be here I’d be honored.” I counter.
“That attitude on the other hand… needs work.
Nikolas, today, we talk about what’s really going on.
We play a role in a much larger organization, us, and other families like us, are the ‘boots on the ground’ so to speak.
Our job is not to capture creatures, or horde esoteric goods. We do not foil the schemes of demons, nor blind those who look too deeply into the abyss.
We’re given information about events that could steer the path of humanity into a brick wall. And our job is to make sure they don’t happen. “ Sylvia reveals.
“Something is happening with these fights? “ I ask.
“As I said, perceptive.
Yes, it could be next week, it could be in a decade or two. Right now, we know very little about it, other than when it happens, it would be in our best interests to be of a high standing in the pits. “ She replies.
I absorb the information, and t drug laced tea in equal measure. As I do, I feel something, I feel I’m a part of what’s going on.
This is going to sound dumb as hell, but up until this point I hadn’t been taking things seriously. Don’t get me wrong, death is on the table, and I was trying to avoid that. But I was just treading water, hoping something or someone came by and to get me out of this situation.
But as Syl lays things out, I start to think of my place here, what I can be doing to better my state.
“Here is the part where you avoid telling me why you couldn’t have used anyone around here. “ I prod.
I keep her gaze, Colin and Dafydd shift uncomfortably.
“Augustus, he’s a tricky one. But a very lucky find for us.
I’ve tried 2 others. A boy and a girl, both I practically raised.
Marco, he was a warrior. But the demon got in his head. There was nothing that could be done beyond end his suffering.
Zelma, I won’t talk about.
That thing, it has a way of turning someone’s best traits against them. You, are a blank slate, but you’re family. You’re my best guess as to how we can use him to our advantage.
And this is why I need you, not to listen, but to understand. To see what’s happening, and make your own decisions. If I were to give you my knowledge, if I were to arm you with the best weapons, and the most powerful esoteric objects I know. He’d just have more to turn against you. “ Sylvia’s revelation scares me and puts a massive weight on my shoulders all at the same time.
Confidence and fear are both dangerous emotions. The two of them are almost like drugs in a way.
After eight months of mainlining fear, the tiny line of confidence Sylvia gave me, went straight to my head.
Trenchcoat told me where to find a video file. And after a couple of weeks of running it through every possible test I could, to check for any kind of manipulation, supernatural or otherwise, I watched it.
I was confident that the world would be much better off without the people committing the vicious acts contained in those twenty minutes of footage.
A teenage view of morality, I admit. But what do you want, I’m a teenager.
We watch the abandoned house from across the street. It’s a dingy, urban blight affected suburb, that being said, how no one seems to notice the seven foot freak with me, I have no idea.
The kid inside smoking stolen cigarettes and illegally supplied booze is a husky young guy of about 14. The half dozen kids that show up a couple hours later look closer to my age, last couple of years of high school I’m guessing.
The way they get into the house tells me they’ve done this before. The backpacks they all carry tell me they’re there for a purpose.
“How fucking funny would it be if I just killed you here and took off? “ Trenchcoat says, looming behind me.
I tense.
“It’s a joke. Out of my whole rotten family, Art and I, are close. I’m not going anywhere.
Unfortunately for you. “ Trenchcoat shoves me to the ground as he walks toward the house.
We get in through a basement window, I fit easily, Trenchcoat contorts his body to fit through the thin opening, somehow doing so silently.
I keep hearing Sylvia in my head. Telling me how she needs someone that can make his own decisions.
As I stand in the litter strewn basement, beside a creature with child murder on it’s mind I question the decision that I made.
At first the illumination is dim, nothing more than scraps of moonlight filtered through splintered wood. But with an industrial click, suddenly a half dozen lightbulbs bathe the basement in harsh, yellowish light.
Harsh, but not harsh enough to cause the reaction I see from Trenchcoat.
He squints and tries, unsuccessfully to turn away from the lights. Something about them is causing him discomfort. I get my hopes up for a moment he’s going to burst into flame or turn into dust or something, but no dice.
The sight of the walking nightmare looking pained and confused makes me panic. But before I can think of how I fucked up, I hear a voice.
The room, by the sounds of it, the entire house, has been rigged with speakers. Cleverly recessed in sconces and corners.
“Augi, long time no see. And I see you brought a little Renfield fella with you. “ The voice is modulated, Trenchcoat looks curious for a moment.
“Who, is this? You that clown that’s been fucking with Art?” He guesses.
The voice laughs, “Nope.
Who I am, is a guy who managed to find a few boxes of lightbulbs from ’93.
Then again, with eBay, that could make me just about anyone. “
Trenchcoat turns and looks toward the window we came in. He reaches a hand toward it, stopping a few inches away.
“That’s fucking interesting. “ He says, eyes darting around the room.
“Isn’t it though? “ The voice replies, clearly hearing the creature’s whisper, “ Tonight you get the pay for centuries of the worst shit committed by man or beast. I’ve made sure of that. No one in this house is going anywhere for the next 8 hours.
I’m sure the rest of the houseguests are pretty confused as to what’s going on. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so let me give you the Cliff’s notes.
You kids have been killing a monster a year for half a decade. You were the perfect bait, and I have faith you’ll be able to outwit Augi long enough to make it out of here.
If not, you’ll still have helped kill one of the worst things to walk the face of the earth. “
“What the hell is he talking about? “ I ask, a sinking feeling in my gut.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?
Yeah, these kids are more Scooby gang than Manson family. Don’t blame me for the fact it only took an out of context exorcism video and some promises of making things right with the universe to get you on board with killing them. “ Trenchcoat spits.
I feel afraid, stupid and small. Which is to say, lately, business as usual.
I begin to break lightbulbs, I notice no runes, or anything else that would indicate they have any kind of supernatural origin.
As the basement dims, Trenchcoat starts to breathe easier.
“What’s going on, what stopped you from leaving? “ I ask.
“This little shit is playing The Game. “ Trenchcoat says to himself as much as to me. He looks deep in thought, inspecting the glass from the bulbs.
“What are you talking about? “ I say, my voice cracking slightly.
I hear noises upstairs, frantic foot falls. Indecipherable shouting.
Trenchcoat turns to me, exasperated and filled with anger.
“You’ve heard of ‘Rules’ right? All that ‘Don’t turn left on East street at 3:24 am kind of shit? “ The creature starts, “More and more of them popping up lately. Can’t miss the things.
Well, your kind seems great at finding them, but fucking awful at figuring out what they are. It’s not someone’s new job, or creepy school. The answer is so damned simple, but all of you’ve missed it.
It's a game. It’s, The Game.
It’s ran by the thickest branches of my family tree, and the stakes are high enough even I don’t really understand.
And whoever has us here, he’s weaponized it. The crazy fuck. “
“Call on your family for help then. “ I say, starting to deal with the fear and confusion.
“You first. “ Is Trenchcoat’s reply.
I get his point, and for a twisted, shitty moment, I find myself relating to the murderous thing I’ve been saddled with.
“So what’s the plan? “ I ask.
“Get my hands on whoever’s been stalking me. Between A and B, probably kill those little do-gooders upstairs out of spite.
I need you to circumvent rules we come across. Humans need to agree to follow the rules, it’s why people encounter them in jobs and schools so much. I’m not human, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t get a choice. “ I’m shaking my head as Augustus relates his plan.
“We’re not hurting those kids. “ I say defiantly.
“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.
But I’m a God damned child killing monster, bud! How long is that going to take to sink the fuck in?
Me not doing what I do, isn’t like giving up smokes. Think of it like not having a slash for months on end. Sooner or later, like it or not, I’m either finding a bathroom or pissing my pants. “ the rant scares me, but it makes me think.
Something about Augustus, it seems very, 90’s. Whoever was on the speakers was talking about the lightbulbs being from ’93. I’m picking up on a very distinct pattern.
I file that information with the rest of the disconnected lore I’ve managed to find on Trenchcoat as I follow him up the steep, narrow set of stairs.
He whips the thin wood door open, taking an aggressive, lurching step into the livingroom beyond. Surely ready to dispense too far quips and limitless violence, as per usual.
But that doesn’t happen, his rage filled scowl turns into a look of resignation, “Fuck”, is the monster’s last word before he disappears.
I cautiously walk up the loose splinter ridden stairs, expecting Augustus to be waiting around the corner, or engaged in combat with some other horror.
But once I get to the top, there’s nothing more sinister than a livingroom covered in dust and graffiti strewn with old bottles and new stains.
I know my chance when I see it. The particle board sealing the bay window is rotten, the glass long since broken.
No monster, no crazy family, I’ll take my chances with the streets of the U. K.
I tap the crumbling wood with a foot, it rattles, it won’t take much to make a hole.
I line up a kick, freedom no more than a quarter inch of rotten wood away.
“I wouldn’t do that. “ Says a voice behind me, male, around my age I’d guess, but with a confidence that makes me listen, “ Rigged with a load of C4 in the window frame.
Don’t take my word for it, guy wasn’t very subtle. ”
Sure enough, I see small wires running along the edges of the frame and embedded in the particle board.
I turn around, the six people standing in front of me have a vibe I can only describe as severe.
“Are we going to have issues? “ a slight, dark skinned guy asks.
“You making threats? “ I reply.
“No, he isn’t. “ it’s the same voice that warned me about the explosives. It belongs to a squared jawed kid with short black hair, he’s wearing a grey hoodie, and separates himself from the group. “ Call me Kent, and I’m in charge of making threats.
Sid, he’s our people person, he’s just trying to see if you’re someone we need to worry about. “
“We don’t have time to figure this kid out, leave him. “ a short, ginger girl says.
“Ami, why don’t I stay out of equipment, and you and Kent let me figure this kid out?” Sid says.
“I’m Nik. “ I volunteer.
“Good to meet you Nik. “ Sid says, walking around Kent, “Didn’t mean to start things off on the wrong foot.
We’ve just gotten used to doing these kinds of things in our own way over the past bit. We get a little… weird around this time of year if I’m being honest. “
I nod, apprehensive at giving any kind of detailed response.
“Derik” says a tall, pale guy, “ Research. “
“Liam. “ a tanned boy in a flannel shirt and deep blue jeans tells me, “ Oxford doesn’t talk, accident a couple of years back. I’m logistics, he figures spooky shit out. “
Oxford is thin and bald, his face looks much older than it should. Like he’s the victim of some kind of wasting disease.
Telling these kids the truth would be, complicated. And something about their war vet demeanor, makes me want to keep things simple.
So I give them a version of the truth. One where I was plucked from my room by Trenchcoat, and brought here for a slow death.
They buy it. I think.
“Well, I don’t know what this Jigsaw wannabe has planned, but trust me when I say, it can’t be much worse than the things we’ve went through. “ Kent says, trying to be reassuring.
“Just, one more thing. “ Sid begins, “ Why all the scars? “
I know I’ve won most of the group over, but I don’t like the look Sid is giving me.
“Work on a farm, on top of that, the family owns an auction. Lots of bent steel and splinters, what can I say? “ I say, trying to sound casual.
“Fair enough, that accent though. “ Sid’s look becomes almost predatory as he talks.
“Immigration my guy. What’s with the third degree? “ I reply.
“We’ve just met and I’ve only asked three questions.
Humor me here though.
You get taken in the night by that thing that winked out of existence.
Seems pretty nice of him to let you put on shoes. “ Sid lets his statement hang.
Kent turns, I don’t like where this is going. Panic and fear start to well up.
“What’re you thinking Sid? “ Kent asks.
“Kid’s lying. But he’s good at it. “ Sid answers.
“You saying this has turned into a, me, situation? “ Kent’s question starts a deep pit in my stomach.
“I don’t know if we need to go that far. But I don’t like the idea of him having seen our faces. I think this is a Liam situation. “ As Sid says this I look to Liam, who already seems deep in thought.
“Local cops will back our story, but he could go beyond them.
We tie him up until all of this is done, and we get some video of him putting a blade into the body upstairs. He goes telling any stories, it’s us and the locals versus some Yank on video stabbing the kid. “ Liam suggests.
I tried to fight, it went, embarrassingly. Kent had me on the ground in some kind of arm lock in about a second.
I’m bound to an old wooden chair with electrical cords, dragged into a room on the second floor where the chubby kid from before lays face down in a coagulated pool of his own blood. Surrounded by the trappings of misspent youth.
The door locks, and I stare at the corpse, wondering what in the hell went on up here, and in what universe are these psychopaths anything other than what they seemed on screen.
Time becomes almost malleable. I’m terrified to the point where every moment seems to stretch out forever.
Then, I hear it. A wet, organic noise. It starts below the body, and slowly starts to spread.
After a minute or two, the body starts to jerk and twitch. The room is dim as hell, but some kind of ropey, flesh-like substance, is sealing off the door.
I watch as the corpse clumsily gets to it’s feet. It’s skin pale, it’s throat slit to the point of near decapitation.
The head falls backward, obscenely with a small spurt of thick blood.
I scream, I thought I’d been getting used to being face to face with monsters. But fully bound, inches away from a kid that seems to be filled with a twisting mass of barbed, writhing, intestine like tentacles, I realize I’m not used to shit.
The ropey mass forms the barest suggestion of features, a shifting, lumpen mass of ever moving tendrils coming from what used to be the kid’s neck.
The sound spreads more, cracks in the floorboards and walls begin to show hints of the tendrils filling them in like spray foam.
No one is hearing my screams, or if they are, they have no interest in helping.
Ever wonder how you’d handle torture? I think if you’re the kind of person to be reading this, it’s likely you have.
I started by pissing myself.
The second the thin tendril touches my hand, I feel a blinding, flensing pain. I can do nothing but watch, as thousands of nearly hair thin spines tear and consume my flesh. As it slowly, almost, curiously makes it’s way up my arm, it leaves a bloodless, scarred furrow about an eighth of an inch deep.
My second reaction was to lose any pretense at defiance or dignity. I thrash and scream, beg and offer. All of this turning into choked sobs as the thing starts to do much of the same with another tendril.
It felt like I was in hell, every inch of me nothing more than a canvas for this artist of misery.
But pain, it can only go so far. Whether we’re talking about my tolerance, or this thing’s interest.
Mutilation, the brutal wedding of pain and loss. That was it’s next step.
A thick, almost centipede like tendril sits on my pinky like a hot iron. I can only watch in horror as I see fat, then muscle, then bone, then, nothing.
My voice shreds, I tear my wrists and ankles trying desperately to break the expertly tied wires.
My mind is at the breaking point, the creature in front of my makes a terrible, high pitched keening I assume is laughter.
My body is a roadmap of scarred pits and lines. My hand sports a cleanly severed finger. Fuck me, I wish things ended there.
Of all the important parts of the human body, the eye, tends to feel the least pain. Which isn’t to say, as I watched the greedy, grasping claws slowly take pieces of one of mine, it didn’t hurt, but the worst part, was knowing what was happening.
The vision in my left eye begins to distort at first, the edges getting blurry, then going dark. Bit by bit, chunk by irreplaceable chunk, the creature takes half my vision.
I can feel the shifting air on the bare socket, to call what I’m doing screaming, would be understating things to the point of absurdity.
My brain reels at what has just happened. I can feel my grip on reality begin to loosen, pain, worse than can bare, loss of half my sight, it’s too much.
My brain feels filled with static, for a few brief moments I swear, I can hear someone, a voice, trying to tell me something.
But then, a smell hits me. Something so foul, so alien, it yanks me back from the brink of disassociation. I gag and choke, as the air becomes thick with the rotten, chemical reek.
Then, I see it, I see, him.
As randomly as he disappeared, in an instant Trenchcoat is in the room.
He’s torn apart, wounds so deep and ragged, I can see the door on the other side of the room through the worst of them.
One arm is a twisted, broken mess, the flesh jacket torn to shreds of necrotic tissue.
The look on his face is panic, paranoia. A rictus grin of someone that has been kept on his toes for entirely too long.
He trembles and heaves, looking like he could fall over at any second.
He points his good arm at the tendril creature, who I notice has a too familiar eye suspended in it’s shifting features.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the motherfucker who just made me kill my favorite cousin, would you? “ Trenchcoat asks, his voice cracked, and strained.
He gets a confused keening in response.
“Bad day for you then. “ Augustus says.
There is no style to his violence, Trenchcoat grabs the shifting mass, his wicked, claw tipped fingers angling themselves in tendrils. As he lifts the thing, floorboards break, and it’s torn free from the root-like system it was creating in the room.
Three brutal slams cover me in ichor and pieces of creature. Trenchcoat tosses the mewling, twitching pile in a corner and looks at me with disgust.
“You let that thing do this to you? Fuckin’ pathetic, bud.
And who tied you up? “ The nightmare I’ve been cursed with chides me.
“The kids downstairs. “ I say only now realizing I’ve still been sobbing.
One handed, Trenchcoat snaps the wires, then stumbles backward, slowly sliding down the wall.
He coughs, grey, bloody phlegm hitting the ground.
“So, what’s the play here? If this shit broke you, I could use the spare parts, if not, well, you know what the Bible says.
An eye for an eye. “ Trenchcoat grins as he talks, nearly on the brink of death.
And that’s where I think I’m going to leave things. Because, honestly I don’t know what I’m choosing.
I’m mutilated, half blind, using too much of my energy typing to strangers online about things because, I’m so fucking alone here.
If you hear from me again, I hope I made the right move. If not, take this as a lesson on what happens when you screw around with the occult.

For anyone who wants to see how I got into this situation.
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/s/R0DAycoVIm
“In what universe would I ever do you a favor? “ I say, sweeping the floor of the reinforced barn.
“It’s not a favor, it’s a trade, bud.
What do you want in return? “ Trenchcoat asks from within the coffin-like cage.
“To be back home, 8 months ago. “ I reply.
Over the past few weeks I’ve managed to integrate myself into the day to day life on the farm. Things are still a grim, horrifying slog, but with every day it gets a bit easier to deal with.
“Give me something I can do. “ The creature pleads.
“Why, so I can wind up on the end of another ‘ Gotcha’ moment? I’m good. “ is my answer.
A few minutes of silence go by, Augustus breaks it.
“I don’t know many secrets of the universe. Facts, not really my bag. But I know a couple.
How about I share one with you?
No one, not the pope, not my brother, not the shit-bird perched on the highest branch of my twisted family tree, knows what happens when you die.
Some of us never will, of course. Others have ways of avoiding it, but at the end of the day, when the lights truly go out, we know next to nothing.
We do know one thing though. There is judgement, by who? Who knows? Why? Not important.
But at the end of the day, if your battery can’t be recharged, you really want to be thinking about how many marks are on each side of the ledger. “
I don’t reply, and for the next hour or so I ignore the pleading and hinting Trenchcoat does.
But that night, as I sip acidic tea, and try to get a handle on how in the fuck old televisions function, his offer is at the forefront of my mind.
He wants to kill, specifically 6 teenagers who, according to him, have been murdering classmates yearly in a twisted ritual.
He wants me to think this is some kind of noble act, he frames it as almost superheroic. The evil prick knows how I feel, knows that I see the blood on my hands every day, and would kill ( possibly literally) for some way to atone.
Is it a play? I honestly don’t think so, something about how eager the twisted thing is, about how he’s treating the situation as a buyer’s market makes me think something about this makes it important to him.
He offers me everything besides safety and protection. I’m desperate for help, but I have no way to hold him to any agreement.
So the thought rolls around in my mind, staving off the few hours of sleep I get.
“Okay, so, I have it on good authority that tea is supposed to taste better over here. What the hell is wrong with this? “ I say, sitting around an outside table with Sylvia, Dafydd and Colin.
Sylvia smiles, “ Barium, calcium, and a touch of castor oil. “
I look at the brew, then at her.
“If I had told you when you got here you need to drink that to mitigate the effects of working with void touched objects and creatures, you’d have assumed the worst, and found a way to avoid drinking it.
Good to see you becoming more perceptive though. “ Sylvia explains.
“That’s called paranoia, Syl. “ I reply.
She laughs, lighting a cigarette.
“Do you know why I’ve let you figure things out on your own? “ The ancient woman asks.
“Accepted? Yes. Understood, not in the slightest. “ I answer, wondering what sadist invented the scone.
“It’s because I need a leader. Someone who can understand, not a boy who puts his head down and listens to orders.
Someone who can make their own decisions when the time comes.
And I think that time is coming soon. “ Her statement feels like a question.
“If I chose to be here I’d be honored.” I counter.
“That attitude on the other hand… needs work.
Nikolas, today, we talk about what’s really going on.
We play a role in a much larger organization, us, and other families like us, are the ‘boots on the ground’ so to speak.
Our job is not to capture creatures, or horde esoteric goods. We do not foil the schemes of demons, nor blind those who look too deeply into the abyss.
We’re given information about events that could steer the path of humanity into a brick wall. And our job is to make sure they don’t happen. “ Sylvia reveals.
“Something is happening with these fights? “ I ask.
“As I said, perceptive.
Yes, it could be next week, it could be in a decade or two. Right now, we know very little about it, other than when it happens, it would be in our best interests to be of a high standing in the pits. “ She replies.
I absorb the information, and t drug laced tea in equal measure. As I do, I feel something, I feel I’m a part of what’s going on.
This is going to sound dumb as hell, but up until this point I hadn’t been taking things seriously. Don’t get me wrong, death is on the table, and I was trying to avoid that. But I was just treading water, hoping something or someone came by and to get me out of this situation.
But as Syl lays things out, I start to think of my place here, what I can be doing to better my state.
“Here is the part where you avoid telling me why you couldn’t have used anyone around here. “ I prod.
I keep her gaze, Colin and Dafydd shift uncomfortably.
“Augustus, he’s a tricky one. But a very lucky find for us.
I’ve tried 2 others. A boy and a girl, both I practically raised.
Marco, he was a warrior. But the demon got in his head. There was nothing that could be done beyond end his suffering.
Zelma, I won’t talk about.
That thing, it has a way of turning someone’s best traits against them. You, are a blank slate, but you’re family. You’re my best guess as to how we can use him to our advantage.
And this is why I need you, not to listen, but to understand. To see what’s happening, and make your own decisions. If I were to give you my knowledge, if I were to arm you with the best weapons, and the most powerful esoteric objects I know. He’d just have more to turn against you. “ Sylvia’s revelation scares me and puts a massive weight on my shoulders all at the same time.
Confidence and fear are both dangerous emotions. The two of them are almost like drugs in a way.
After eight months of mainlining fear, the tiny line of confidence Sylvia gave me, went straight to my head.
Trenchcoat told me where to find a video file. And after a couple of weeks of running it through every possible test I could, to check for any kind of manipulation, supernatural or otherwise, I watched it.
I was confident that the world would be much better off without the people committing the vicious acts contained in those twenty minutes of footage.
A teenage view of morality, I admit. But what do you want, I’m a teenager.
We watch the abandoned house from across the street. It’s a dingy, urban blight affected suburb, that being said, how no one seems to notice the seven foot freak with me, I have no idea.
The kid inside smoking stolen cigarettes and illegally supplied booze is a husky young guy of about 14. The half dozen kids that show up a couple hours later look closer to my age, last couple of years of high school I’m guessing.
The way they get into the house tells me they’ve done this before. The backpacks they all carry tell me they’re there for a purpose.
“How fucking funny would it be if I just killed you here and took off? “ Trenchcoat says, looming behind me.
I tense.
“It’s a joke. Out of my whole rotten family, Art and I, are close. I’m not going anywhere.
Unfortunately for you. “ Trenchcoat shoves me to the ground as he walks toward the house.
We get in through a basement window, I fit easily, Trenchcoat contorts his body to fit through the thin opening, somehow doing so silently.
I keep hearing Sylvia in my head. Telling me how she needs someone that can make his own decisions.
As I stand in the litter strewn basement, beside a creature with child murder on it’s mind I question the decision that I made.
At first the illumination is dim, nothing more than scraps of moonlight filtered through splintered wood. But with an industrial click, suddenly a half dozen lightbulbs bathe the basement in harsh, yellowish light.
Harsh, but not harsh enough to cause the reaction I see from Trenchcoat.
He squints and tries, unsuccessfully to turn away from the lights. Something about them is causing him discomfort. I get my hopes up for a moment he’s going to burst into flame or turn into dust or something, but no dice.
The sight of the walking nightmare looking pained and confused makes me panic. But before I can think of how I fucked up, I hear a voice.
The room, by the sounds of it, the entire house, has been rigged with speakers. Cleverly recessed in sconces and corners.
“Augi, long time no see. And I see you brought a little Renfield fella with you. “ The voice is modulated, Trenchcoat looks curious for a moment.
“Who, is this? You that clown that’s been fucking with Art?” He guesses.
The voice laughs, “Nope.
Who I am, is a guy who managed to find a few boxes of lightbulbs from ’93.
Then again, with eBay, that could make me just about anyone. “
Trenchcoat turns and looks toward the window we came in. He reaches a hand toward it, stopping a few inches away.
“That’s fucking interesting. “ He says, eyes darting around the room.
“Isn’t it though? “ The voice replies, clearly hearing the creature’s whisper, “ Tonight you get the pay for centuries of the worst shit committed by man or beast. I’ve made sure of that. No one in this house is going anywhere for the next 8 hours.
I’m sure the rest of the houseguests are pretty confused as to what’s going on. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so let me give you the Cliff’s notes.
You kids have been killing a monster a year for half a decade. You were the perfect bait, and I have faith you’ll be able to outwit Augi long enough to make it out of here.
If not, you’ll still have helped kill one of the worst things to walk the face of the earth. “
“What the hell is he talking about? “ I ask, a sinking feeling in my gut.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?
Yeah, these kids are more Scooby gang than Manson family. Don’t blame me for the fact it only took an out of context exorcism video and some promises of making things right with the universe to get you on board with killing them. “ Trenchcoat spits.
I feel afraid, stupid and small. Which is to say, lately, business as usual.
I begin to break lightbulbs, I notice no runes, or anything else that would indicate they have any kind of supernatural origin.
As the basement dims, Trenchcoat starts to breathe easier.
“What’s going on, what stopped you from leaving? “ I ask.
“This little shit is playing The Game. “ Trenchcoat says to himself as much as to me. He looks deep in thought, inspecting the glass from the bulbs.
“What are you talking about? “ I say, my voice cracking slightly.
I hear noises upstairs, frantic foot falls. Indecipherable shouting.
Trenchcoat turns to me, exasperated and filled with anger.
“You’ve heard of ‘Rules’ right? All that ‘Don’t turn left on East street at 3:24 am kind of shit? “ The creature starts, “More and more of them popping up lately. Can’t miss the things.
Well, your kind seems great at finding them, but fucking awful at figuring out what they are. It’s not someone’s new job, or creepy school. The answer is so damned simple, but all of you’ve missed it.
It's a game. It’s, The Game.
It’s ran by the thickest branches of my family tree, and the stakes are high enough even I don’t really understand.
And whoever has us here, he’s weaponized it. The crazy fuck. “
“Call on your family for help then. “ I say, starting to deal with the fear and confusion.
“You first. “ Is Trenchcoat’s reply.
I get his point, and for a twisted, shitty moment, I find myself relating to the murderous thing I’ve been saddled with.
“So what’s the plan? “ I ask.
“Get my hands on whoever’s been stalking me. Between A and B, probably kill those little do-gooders upstairs out of spite.
I need you to circumvent rules we come across. Humans need to agree to follow the rules, it’s why people encounter them in jobs and schools so much. I’m not human, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t get a choice. “ I’m shaking my head as Augustus relates his plan.
“We’re not hurting those kids. “ I say defiantly.
“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.
But I’m a God damned child killing monster, bud! How long is that going to take to sink the fuck in?
Me not doing what I do, isn’t like giving up smokes. Think of it like not having a slash for months on end. Sooner or later, like it or not, I’m either finding a bathroom or pissing my pants. “ the rant scares me, but it makes me think.
Something about Augustus, it seems very, 90’s. Whoever was on the speakers was talking about the lightbulbs being from ’93. I’m picking up on a very distinct pattern.
I file that information with the rest of the disconnected lore I’ve managed to find on Trenchcoat as I follow him up the steep, narrow set of stairs.
He whips the thin wood door open, taking an aggressive, lurching step into the livingroom beyond. Surely ready to dispense too far quips and limitless violence, as per usual.
But that doesn’t happen, his rage filled scowl turns into a look of resignation, “Fuck”, is the monster’s last word before he disappears.
I cautiously walk up the loose splinter ridden stairs, expecting Augustus to be waiting around the corner, or engaged in combat with some other horror.
But once I get to the top, there’s nothing more sinister than a livingroom covered in dust and graffiti strewn with old bottles and new stains.
I know my chance when I see it. The particle board sealing the bay window is rotten, the glass long since broken.
No monster, no crazy family, I’ll take my chances with the streets of the U. K.
I tap the crumbling wood with a foot, it rattles, it won’t take much to make a hole.
I line up a kick, freedom no more than a quarter inch of rotten wood away.
“I wouldn’t do that. “ Says a voice behind me, male, around my age I’d guess, but with a confidence that makes me listen, “ Rigged with a load of C4 in the window frame.
Don’t take my word for it, guy wasn’t very subtle. ”
Sure enough, I see small wires running along the edges of the frame and embedded in the particle board.
I turn around, the six people standing in front of me have a vibe I can only describe as severe.
“Are we going to have issues? “ a slight, dark skinned guy asks.
“You making threats? “ I reply.
“No, he isn’t. “ it’s the same voice that warned me about the explosives. It belongs to a squared jawed kid with short black hair, he’s wearing a grey hoodie, and separates himself from the group. “ Call me Kent, and I’m in charge of making threats.
Sid, he’s our people person, he’s just trying to see if you’re someone we need to worry about. “
“We don’t have time to figure this kid out, leave him. “ a short, ginger girl says.
“Ami, why don’t I stay out of equipment, and you and Kent let me figure this kid out?” Sid says.
“I’m Nik. “ I volunteer.
“Good to meet you Nik. “ Sid says, walking around Kent, “Didn’t mean to start things off on the wrong foot.
We’ve just gotten used to doing these kinds of things in our own way over the past bit. We get a little… weird around this time of year if I’m being honest. “
I nod, apprehensive at giving any kind of detailed response.
“Derik” says a tall, pale guy, “ Research. “
“Liam. “ a tanned boy in a flannel shirt and deep blue jeans tells me, “ Oxford doesn’t talk, accident a couple of years back. I’m logistics, he figures spooky shit out. “
Oxford is thin and bald, his face looks much older than it should. Like he’s the victim of some kind of wasting disease.
Telling these kids the truth would be, complicated. And something about their war vet demeanor, makes me want to keep things simple.
So I give them a version of the truth. One where I was plucked from my room by Trenchcoat, and brought here for a slow death.
They buy it. I think.
“Well, I don’t know what this Jigsaw wannabe has planned, but trust me when I say, it can’t be much worse than the things we’ve went through. “ Kent says, trying to be reassuring.
“Just, one more thing. “ Sid begins, “ Why all the scars? “
I know I’ve won most of the group over, but I don’t like the look Sid is giving me.
“Work on a farm, on top of that, the family owns an auction. Lots of bent steel and splinters, what can I say? “ I say, trying to sound casual.
“Fair enough, that accent though. “ Sid’s look becomes almost predatory as he talks.
“Immigration my guy. What’s with the third degree? “ I reply.
“We’ve just met and I’ve only asked three questions.
Humor me here though.
You get taken in the night by that thing that winked out of existence.
Seems pretty nice of him to let you put on shoes. “ Sid lets his statement hang.
Kent turns, I don’t like where this is going. Panic and fear start to well up.
“What’re you thinking Sid? “ Kent asks.
“Kid’s lying. But he’s good at it. “ Sid answers.
“You saying this has turned into a, me, situation? “ Kent’s question starts a deep pit in my stomach.
“I don’t know if we need to go that far. But I don’t like the idea of him having seen our faces. I think this is a Liam situation. “ As Sid says this I look to Liam, who already seems deep in thought.
“Local cops will back our story, but he could go beyond them.
We tie him up until all of this is done, and we get some video of him putting a blade into the body upstairs. He goes telling any stories, it’s us and the locals versus some Yank on video stabbing the kid. “ Liam suggests.
I tried to fight, it went, embarrassingly. Kent had me on the ground in some kind of arm lock in about a second.
I’m bound to an old wooden chair with electrical cords, dragged into a room on the second floor where the chubby kid from before lays face down in a coagulated pool of his own blood. Surrounded by the trappings of misspent youth.
The door locks, and I stare at the corpse, wondering what in the hell went on up here, and in what universe are these psychopaths anything other than what they seemed on screen.
Time becomes almost malleable. I’m terrified to the point where every moment seems to stretch out forever.
Then, I hear it. A wet, organic noise. It starts below the body, and slowly starts to spread.
After a minute or two, the body starts to jerk and twitch. The room is dim as hell, but some kind of ropey, flesh-like substance, is sealing off the door.
I watch as the corpse clumsily gets to it’s feet. It’s skin pale, it’s throat slit to the point of near decapitation.
The head falls backward, obscenely with a small spurt of thick blood.
I scream, I thought I’d been getting used to being face to face with monsters. But fully bound, inches away from a kid that seems to be filled with a twisting mass of barbed, writhing, intestine like tentacles, I realize I’m not used to shit.
The ropey mass forms the barest suggestion of features, a shifting, lumpen mass of ever moving tendrils coming from what used to be the kid’s neck.
The sound spreads more, cracks in the floorboards and walls begin to show hints of the tendrils filling them in like spray foam.
No one is hearing my screams, or if they are, they have no interest in helping.
Ever wonder how you’d handle torture? I think if you’re the kind of person to be reading this, it’s likely you have.
I started by pissing myself.
The second the thin tendril touches my hand, I feel a blinding, flensing pain. I can do nothing but watch, as thousands of nearly hair thin spines tear and consume my flesh. As it slowly, almost, curiously makes it’s way up my arm, it leaves a bloodless, scarred furrow about an eighth of an inch deep.
My second reaction was to lose any pretense at defiance or dignity. I thrash and scream, beg and offer. All of this turning into choked sobs as the thing starts to do much of the same with another tendril.
It felt like I was in hell, every inch of me nothing more than a canvas for this artist of misery.
But pain, it can only go so far. Whether we’re talking about my tolerance, or this thing’s interest.
Mutilation, the brutal wedding of pain and loss. That was it’s next step.
A thick, almost centipede like tendril sits on my pinky like a hot iron. I can only watch in horror as I see fat, then muscle, then bone, then, nothing.
My voice shreds, I tear my wrists and ankles trying desperately to break the expertly tied wires.
My mind is at the breaking point, the creature in front of my makes a terrible, high pitched keening I assume is laughter.
My body is a roadmap of scarred pits and lines. My hand sports a cleanly severed finger. Fuck me, I wish things ended there.
Of all the important parts of the human body, the eye, tends to feel the least pain. Which isn’t to say, as I watched the greedy, grasping claws slowly take pieces of one of mine, it didn’t hurt, but the worst part, was knowing what was happening.
The vision in my left eye begins to distort at first, the edges getting blurry, then going dark. Bit by bit, chunk by irreplaceable chunk, the creature takes half my vision.
I can feel the shifting air on the bare socket, to call what I’m doing screaming, would be understating things to the point of absurdity.
My brain reels at what has just happened. I can feel my grip on reality begin to loosen, pain, worse than can bare, loss of half my sight, it’s too much.
My brain feels filled with static, for a few brief moments I swear, I can hear someone, a voice, trying to tell me something.
But then, a smell hits me. Something so foul, so alien, it yanks me back from the brink of disassociation. I gag and choke, as the air becomes thick with the rotten, chemical reek.
Then, I see it, I see, him.
As randomly as he disappeared, in an instant Trenchcoat is in the room.
He’s torn apart, wounds so deep and ragged, I can see the door on the other side of the room through the worst of them.
One arm is a twisted, broken mess, the flesh jacket torn to shreds of necrotic tissue.
The look on his face is panic, paranoia. A rictus grin of someone that has been kept on his toes for entirely too long.
He trembles and heaves, looking like he could fall over at any second.
He points his good arm at the tendril creature, who I notice has a too familiar eye suspended in it’s shifting features.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the motherfucker who just made me kill my favorite cousin, would you? “ Trenchcoat asks, his voice cracked, and strained.
He gets a confused keening in response.
“Bad day for you then. “ Augustus says.
There is no style to his violence, Trenchcoat grabs the shifting mass, his wicked, claw tipped fingers angling themselves in tendrils. As he lifts the thing, floorboards break, and it’s torn free from the root-like system it was creating in the room.
Three brutal slams cover me in ichor and pieces of creature. Trenchcoat tosses the mewling, twitching pile in a corner and looks at me with disgust.
“You let that thing do this to you? Fuckin’ pathetic, bud.
And who tied you up? “ The nightmare I’ve been cursed with chides me.
“The kids downstairs. “ I say only now realizing I’ve still been sobbing.
One handed, Trenchcoat snaps the wires, then stumbles backward, slowly sliding down the wall.
He coughs, grey, bloody phlegm hitting the ground.
“So, what’s the play here? If this shit broke you, I could use the spare parts, if not, well, you know what the Bible says.
An eye for an eye. “ Trenchcoat grins as he talks, nearly on the brink of death.
And that’s where I think I’m going to leave things. Because, honestly I don’t know what I’m choosing.
I’m mutilated, half blind, using too much of my energy typing to strangers online about things because, I’m so fucking alone here.
If you hear from me again, I hope I made the right move. If not, take this as a lesson on what happens when you screw around with the occult.

First of all, I would like to say that most games should not have any durability mechanics, or critical failures. Do what is fun, only do what is 'realistic' if it is also fun.
I created this system solely for my own campaign, but I
Durability in DND
Normal weapons have 18 durability.
Small weapons have 8 durability.
Fragile weapons have 6 durability.
Small fragile weapons have 4 durability.
Durability is both health and damage reduction.
If a weapon has half (rounded down) or less durability, all attacks are at half damage. Weapons can take damage when they deal damage. If the damage dealt exceeds the durability, the weapon takes damage equal to the damage it dealt as durability.
For dexterity based attacks, only the base damage (the unmodified damage dice) can harm the weapon.
Example: Dagger does 1d6 damage. It can never damage itself, unless the barbarian stabs someone with it, instantly destroying it with his 24 strength and rage damage. (Or doing heavy damage at least)
Using this method, rogues don't have to replace rapiers every time they sneak attack.
Critical hits do no damage to the weapon.
Critical Fails can be run however you want. Suggestions near end.
Weapons can be repaired whenever you have downtime, such as during a short or long rest. Every half hour spent with the correct tools and the damaged weapon can repair points equal to your dexterity or strength, plus your proficiency if you are proficient in the proper tools. You cannot effectively repair weapons if you are not proficient in either the proper tool or the weapon. (Representing knowledge of repair.)
You can also pay one tenth the gold price of the weapon to repair twice as fast. (Representing excess resources) You cannot repair objects at half or lower durability without having paid one tenth the gold price. If a magical weapon is not unbreakable, the price to enhance repair is equal to one tenth the mundane weapon it is based on, not the price of the magical weapon.
Crafting Weapons- Roll D20, choose STR or DEX and add appropriate tool proficiency if proficient. Crafting costs half the market price.
Anything below a DC 15 is a scrappy weapon that starts at half durability. It cannot be repaired effectively.
Anything that beats a DC 20 gains special effects based on the crafting method. Fine crafting (using dexterity) adds bonus damage to attacks using this weapon/ammunition equal to total roll divided by four -4. (20=+1, 24=+2, 28=+3, 32=+4) Forceful crafting (using strength) adds durability equal to your total roll -19. (20=+1, 21=+2, etc.)
A 25 adds a special property. Fine crafting gives the weapon, unless it is heavy, the finesse property. (Allowing features like sneak attack to function.) Forceful crafting gives the weapon, unless it is finesse, the heavy property. (Allowing features like GWM to function.) If in areas of high magic, it may add a weak magical property to the weapon.
DC 30 is like the former, but has no restrictions against creating finesse heavy weapons, and if made in locations of magic may gain strong magical properties.
Optional Rule:
Masterworks
DC 35 (Requires high roll, and enhancements from something like bardic inspiration and guidance, but is possible.)
You can only craft one 'masterwork' in your life, and it becomes an artifact, imbued with a portion of your soul. Magical properties are very varied.
Critical failures:
Upon rolling a one, you suffer a consequence of your (the player who rolled the one) choice.
1: Weapon struck wrong. It loses durability equal to your strength modifier. (Not reduced.)
2: Weapon missed and flies out of your hand(s).
3: You don't necessarily miss, but the weapon hurts somehow you. Take half base weapon damage. (This damage can be resisted.)
Note: Make sure you add flavor. The weapon striking wrong could be striking the ground, or hitting something at the wrong angle. Getting hurt could be an axe bouncing off, or you slipping while passing a dagger from hand to hand. Whatever you do, keep it as the player's choice.
DMs can add and remove options to fit the game's feel and mechanics.
So, 3 separate systems, very interconnected. Any criticism is greatly appreciated.

I don't know if the title makes sense... I'm in bed, lying at an angle after movie night got canceled because of my symptoms flaring and I suddenly felt lonely and wanted to talk about my symptoms since I'm not sure how to frame this as a question.
I have IBS-C and I've been managing it on my own for two years pretty much. I am extremely wary of solid, dry foods (I am a fan of noodles and soups) and I can't handle normal meal amounts, my nutritionist has strongly advised me to be a six small meals a day person. Every day I wake up with some nausea and stomach pain that takes a few hours to dissipate (note that I take a stimulant for ADHD but I have this symptom even when not taking it so). Moderately intense exercise that results in ANY pressure on my stomach or pelvic area triggers IBS. My menstrual cycle triggers my IBS. I basically avoid solid food as much as I can to manage my symptoms.
Whenever I have an episode (as I do now), it's almost always at night after dinner. It's almost always constipation with diarrhea in between (yeah I don't know either). I have to push a lot to get rid of the stools and I get nauseous easily so I always have electrolytes on hand and I drink metamucil daily and as soon as I feel that an episode is coming on (it helps). Then I wait it out and endure going to the bathroom every five minutes for two hours plus until it's over. The worst part is my head feeling empty and buzzed and the inability to sleep. I hate being in pain and expending energy and being unable to just shut down and close my eyes.
Is there anything I'm missing? It's possible I'm missing something obvious too. I will talk to a GI again soon but I'm frustrated at always having my diet blamed (I can't stomach unhealthy food).

Advice on failing the praxis TWICE 😭? I keep missing the passing score by a few points. I tried SLP Test Prep (only used her worksheets) and ETS practice tests. I’m such a visual learner that that’s what helped me best but it makes me think that I’m possibly not doing enough or not going in depth enough? Should I start dissecting the Advanced Review book or Therapy Ed book? (I have both but haven’t studied them). I’m sad that I’m not the type of learner to just look at something and get it. I try not to compare myself, but I see so many do simple things and pass, even just by winging. I have to really really understand it. I don’t think I’ve been giving it my all like I should’ve while studying (never had a consistent schedule). Thank you for any advice 🥺🙏🏼

The Fightplan series is back, as 2024 has proved a standout year for Ukrainian boxing, as Oleksandr Usyk captured undisputed status at heavyweight and Denys Berinchyk turned a superb boxing display to beatdown Emanuel Navarrete in San Diego to become the 135lbs WBO world champion. But the pick of the performances came for a legend of the amateur game to lay a marker down half way through the year for the performance of 2024 to recapture his own crown at lightweight, that performance coming from the great...
'Hi-Tech' 'The Matrix' Vasyl 'LOMA' Lomachenko
Vasyl Anatolyevich Lomachenko was born 17 February 1988 in the port city of Bilhorod-Dnistrovsky in the Odesa Oblast of South Western Ukraine. He was born into a sports obsessed family, his mother Tetiana a former gymnast turned instructor and his father Anatoly, an obsessed sports fan determined to see his son represent Ukraine in elite sports no matter what the discipline. Initially wanting the young Vasyl to become an ice hockey player, it was when he was taken to the boxing gym that Anatoly spotted the star potential his son possessed. He started training in boxing when he was 5 years old, with his father teaching him to fight as a southpaw despite 'doing everything with his right hand' which he believed would give him an advantage, as well as taking him to traditional dance classes and gymnastics lessons to help improve his balance, core strength, co-ordination and timing. His first amateur success would come at 16 years old, when Vasyl won the 2004 European Cadet Championships gold medal at 101 lbs. He took 8 months out from competing at competitions due to a growth spurt, but returned to claim a silver medal at the 2007 world championship at 125lbs, as well as winning gold at a nationwide Klitschko brothers tournament and at the Senior European Championships a year later at the same weight. Between 2008 to 2011, Lomachenko won 4 consecutive gold medals at the National Championships, as well as the 2010 Presidents Cup, and of course most notably, his success capturing the gold medal at the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games where Lomachenko also won the Val Barker Trophy for 'The Most Outstanding Boxer' at the games, before capturing another Olympic Gold medal at the London Games in 2012.
Now having competed at 132lbs for the last 4 years as an amateur, Lomachenko finished his amateur career with a staggering 395-1 record, having lost by just one point to Russian Albert Selimov, who he'd go on to beat twice, as well as holding amateur victories over notable fighters such as Félix Verdejo, José Carlos Ramírez, Óscar Valdez and Robson Conceição.
After his success at the 2013 World Series of Boxing, Lomachenko turned over to the pro game with big ambitious, with the goal to win a world title on his professional debut, and would only accept a deal on those conditions. After exhausting all options, Top Rank signed him to a deal where he could box in his second pro fight for the vacant WBO featherweight title which victory of 25-3 over José Luis Ramírez who he beat on his debut over 4 round for the WBO International title, securing his world title shot. This would come against 55 fight veteran with 41 wins, Orlando Salido, in a highly controversial bout with Salido missing weight by over 3lbs and no less than 52 low blows and repeated headbutts throughout from the Mexican ,who had rehydrated to over 147lbs, without any warning from the referee. Salido would win by split decision, in controversial fashion having only outlanded Lomachenko in one of the twelve rounds, with the broadcast team adding insult to injury with a patronising 'Welcome to professional boxing!' message to Lomachenko. Defiantly, Lomachenko would go on to capture the same title in his next fight, outworking the highly skilled and blisteringly fast enigma of Gary Russell Jr., before defending in a shutout win over 51-1 Thai Chonlatarn Piriyapinyo, not dropping a round despite an injury forcing him to box in final 5 rounds with just his right hand. The next years would be frustrating for Lomachenko, failing to get unifications with the other champions not wanting to risk losing to the elite champion with such little pro experience, as Lomachenko became disillusioned at being offered 'not interesting' match ups. Despite this, he'd carry on defending his title twice more before his knockout of the year contender as he knocked out Roman 'Rocky' Martinez in the 5th round with a vicious left uppercut and right hook combo, where he won the WBO world title at Super Featherweight. This would spark the beginning of his most dominant run of performances, resulting in 4 straight retirement victories at over Nicolas Walters, Jason Sosa, Miguel Marriaga and his schooling over an unbeaten Guillermo Rigondeaux, giving birth to his 'No-Mas Chenko' moniker.
Lomachenko then moved to his third weight class where he'd face the 44-3 WBA world champion Jorge Linares, over coming slight adversity for the first time, after a his first and only ever knockdown in round 6, Lomachenko would rally back to overwhelm Linares with relentless pressure and non stop flurries of punching culminating in a round 10 stoppage, become a 3 weight world champion in a record time of just 12 pro fights. His next matchup would be his first unification bout against the WBO champion Jose Pedraza, winning a one sided decision and twice dropping the champion, he'd make two defences of his titles over former world champion Anthony Crolla, battering him and twice dropping him inside 4 rounds, and coming out on top with an impressive display over former Olympic Gold medalist Luke Campbell, where Lomachenko picked up vacant the WBC world title, before being controversially elevated to 'franchise champion' and not being recognised as the official belt holder amongst the other sanctioning bodies.
Despite this, Top Rank moved quick to make one of the few super fights during the global pandemic, with a much anticipated bout in what was essentially an undisputed bout against IBF champion Teofimo Lopez following his statement win over Richard Commey. Despite his lack of experience at world level, Lopez boxed disciplined throughout using his clear power and athletic advantage to keep Lomachenko backed up and tentative to throw shots, and while Lomachenko had success in the second half of the fight, he lost a clear decision, many questioning his desire and motivation to continue in the sport. Lomachenko responded by choosing to face 2 Lopez inspired opponents, Masayoshi Nakatani, who gave Lopez his toughest matchup, who he stopped in 9 rounds and his world title opponent Richard Commey to make a statement of one upmanship to Lopez. After a lacklustre performance in a bad style matchup against Jamaine Ortiz, he go on to officially fight for undisputed honours over young talent Devin Haney, who had controversially become WBC world champion after Lomachenko had been elevated to the now mothballed franchise status. The fight was a close one throughout with plenty of swing rounds, with their stylistic differences leading to many debated scores online, but in the end Devin Haney won a much debated decision working behind the jab and landing telling body shots to make the difference over Lomachenko's aggression and output. But with Lomachenko standing intact and possibly even enhanced with his performance over Haney he performed another masterful display of one upmanship on both Haney and Lopez's former opponent George Kambosos Jr. with a punch perfect display, allowing Kambosos to land just 11% of his punches before stopping him in the 11th round, capturing the IBO and the vacant IBF world titles now as a two time lightweight world champion, with a 18-3 record with 12 knockouts and 7 victories over current, former or future world champions.
The Matrix
A masterful technician, while he certainly is by no means a flawless fighter, his amateur and professional success can not be denied with elite performances of world level opponents in almost every fight he's taken. his record may be looked on with revisionist eyes in future years, but Lomachenko has not been afraid to step up against younger and much bigger opponents with a similar talent level, even for his supreme talent an undefeated record would be invariably hard to maintain. Nevertheless, some of his greatest wins alone show peak levels scaled by Lomachenko, scaling the summit of weight classes on numerous occasions and making elite fighters look levels apart in his prime. With his elite levels footwork, creating of angles, dynamic reflexes and supreme timing with his own unique tricks of the trade sprinkled in, it will be interesting to see the future trajectory of the 36 year old Hall of Fame shoo in.
Fightplan
Core tactic Preferred range Mid range Primary mentality Aggressive Crisis mentality Reactive Advantage mentality Aggressive
Operating often with a size disadvantage, and very regularly with a reach disadvantage, Loma is an aggressive high output, high movement based fighter that operates best at mid to close range. Like Chocolatito, his lead hand is his key weapon but crucially for Loma it's often his dominant right hand from the southpaw stance. This where he generates the vast majority of his offensive, but will frequently stance switch either to break distance or maintain distance to or from his opponent, in a similar, but much more refined way to that of Teofimo Lopez. He's happy to hold his feet, but only if he's confident he's in an advantageous position to landed more punches than his opponent, otherwise he will pivot out, retreat with a high guard or look to slip-counter while advancing forward to maintain pressure and offensive. His lead hand is crucial as it allows him to be busy while not loading up on big power shots that expend energy, and his constant movement and changing of pace and offensive make him a nightmare to read, to land on and more important to match his work rate when 'The Matrix' is in full flow. Possessing high footwork, reflexes, agility, dexterity and hand speed will be vital in trying to replicate Loma's combinations, movements and offensive output in Leather while utilising good head and upper body movement with the added bonus pf guarding to say defensively alert and able to counter whilst fight aggressively
Long range tactic Heavily favour lead hand Medium work rate Ultra High combinations Follow up Approach/Wait Countermeasures Cover up/ Retreat
Often on the edge of long to mid range, Lomachenko has an extremely active jab, mostly used to back up his opponent or manipulate their guard to find openings. Often being the shorter man means his double or triple jabs are crucial to breaking range while also keeping his opponent occupied, but he's also happy to wait if he he can get a read on his opponent and find an opening he can exploit or to time their rhythm as he darts inside. Defensively, Lomachenko is less active preferring to ride out attacks in a high guard before responding with a better combination, or changing angle or distance to find an advantageous position.
Mid range tactic Favour lead hand Low work rate Medium combinations Follow up Wait/Approach Countermeasures Retreat/Counterpunch
Mid range is where you often see a calculated thinking fighter approach as Lomachenko looks to get a read on his opponent. He will often hold his hands low to bait an opponent into throwing and looking to change distance or angle before almost instantaneously throwing back once he finds how to best exploit the opening. He uses his head and upper body movement as he looks to work off and slip his opponent's jab to catch his opponent whilst they are defensively vulnerable. He uses his 'Matrix shuffle' to step outside and uses lateral shifts to change direction and confused his opponent and his often frame with his lead hand to either knock his opponent off balance or blind their vision and he steps off at an angle, make his movements extremely difficult to read and hard to pick up where he is all while putting himself in a dominant offensive position.
Close range Heavily favour lead hand Medium work rate High combinations Follow up Retreat/Wait Countermeasures Counterpunch/Retreat
At close range, Lomachenko will sense he's in an advantageous position and look to put together his punches in bunches off his lead right hand. He has a wicked uppercut that when he finds the range can be a vicious weapon as he's demonstrated on many occasions, particularly against Crolla, and a very effective lead right hook he will often counter with which is a lethal weapon as his hook will often land first up close, before taking a half step back to follow up with a combination and make it harder for his opponent to land. While he can be hittable up close, his work rate makes sure he's able to outlandish his opponent and his use of movement makes him less of a stationary target to be caught with a shot, but mostly, Lomachenko will be pressing to find openings as he moves rounds to target for angles to attack and capitalise on his success.
Thanks for everyone taking the time to continue supporting this series, and for all the new readers, I hope you can find my writings useful in building fightplans in Leather boxing manager and keep out my previous pieces below. Enjoy boxing in this great period for the sport and all success in every you do. TEEKAY
Video credits
https://youtu.be/eg24htCdBeA?si=jEpoTSPTD1N8XSto https://youtu.be/-NevXzAtXNY?si=U07r-ijKh26VQbK2 https://youtu.be/-NevXzAtXNY?si=pgCpqNsih67Ik_2u https://youtu.be/ApvDF65n-e0?si=AdGuNqtxKz0ZVi7J https://youtu.be/_nuH0NLnYzs?si=rkrKnYJiaunx9JSH
The Fightplan series
The Thinking Fighter https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/mlmckn/the_thinking_fighter_gameplan/
The Thinking Fighter 2.0 https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/mmc9z3/the_thinking_fighter_20_tactical_inside_boxing/
Moves like Junior (Roy Jones Jr.) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/mpog3f/roy_jones_jr_gameplan/
The Kings of the Counters https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/mq9zvo/the_kings_of_the_counters_countering_with/
The Magical Manny (Manny Pacquiao Machine Gun) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/mx3kjh/the_magical_manny_aggressive_defence_intricate/
Sweet Little Chocolate (Chocolatito) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/n0n1jc/sweet_little_chocolate_effective_aggression/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
Rigo's Rhythm (Rigondeaux)
https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/n3dvoq/rigos_rhythm_staying_elusive_countering_with/
Magnificent Marvelous Master (Hagler)
https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/n530c
Cinnamon Superstar (Canelo)
https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/n786r1/canelo_fightplan/
The Spoiler https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/neezv9/the_boxerspoiler_fightplan_shutting_down_offence/ The GOAT of Boxing (Sugar Ray Robinson) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/nfb6fx/sugar_ray_robinson_fightplan_the_goat_of_boxing/
Golden Oscar Winner (de la Hoya) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/npb9sn/golden_oscar_winner_expert_outboxing_cunning/
Body Hunting Monster (Naoya Inoue) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/o4eukc/body_hunting_monster_crippling_body_punches/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
Xu Can https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/o8lqn4/what_xu_can_do_speed_and_work_rate_kills/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
The Kronk Style https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/oc01wa/kronk_it_up_the_art_of_technical_aggression/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
Julio Cesar Martinez https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/p5pee2/julio_cesar_martinez_the_little_mexican_firebrand/
Floyd Mayweather
https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/q7ci77/flawless_floyd_the_genius_ogf_mayweather_behind/
Khaosai https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/qngzvk/the_real_life_jimmy_sisphar_the_secrets_behind/
Usyk https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/rtt5sd/countering_with_movement_effective_outboxing/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share with
Dmitry Dictates the Distance (Bivol) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/x94pjl/dmitry_dictates_the_distance_an_in_depth_look_at/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
Golden Global Great (GGG - Golovkin) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/yytuag/golden_global_great_the_boxing_skills_of_one_of/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
Beterbiev https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/10mwljz/you_beterbelieve_in_artur_the_skills_behind_the/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
Wilder Rangy Slugging https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/10s00f2/deontay_wilder_rangy_slugging_beware_of_the_right/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
(Shakur) Stevenson Steals The Show https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/11kl2vo/stevenson_steals_the_show_the_fluid_boxing_skills/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
Teraji https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/11upcc7/comment/jcrp9v4/
Junto Nakatani https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/13l1hw8/junto_nakatani_young_japanese_phenom_the/
AJ (Joshua) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/1beqzts/comment/kww65s8/
Mini Monster (Ginjiro Shigeoka) https://www.reddit.com/LeatherTheGame/comments/1btyvbc/ginjiro_shigeoka_mini_monster_the_105lbs_ibf/?onetap_auto=true&one_tap=true

(Yo sorry men repost, bawal pala i-edit yung title bago lang sa redditttt, last na mali na to ichecheck ko muna sa susunod bago magpost)
Follow-up lang 'to sa recent post dito about sa replay value. Shoutouts sayo, pero dito...
Imbis emcees, battles. Doesn't necessarily have to be your "top 3 or 5 or 10 battle/s of all time." Yung for some reason, mga battle na sadyang binabalik-balikan mo lang talaga, ewan, baka dahil napanood mo nang live, or may core memory sa viewing experience mo sa battle na yon, or puwedeng purely dahil sa content ng emcees. Or puwede ring dahil gusto mo i-relive yung hype nung certain battle sa panahong kung pano mo siya naaalala, etc... These may count as some of your favorites pero hindi yun yung punto. Regardless kung oo or hindi, just want to see kung ano-ano at san kayo nakakahanap ng simple pleasures at amusement sa mga battles.
Kasi, etong sakin, yung replay value ng mga battle na 'to parang may pagka safe haven narin yung dating sakin. 'Pag sobrang clouded o disturbed, isa dito hahanapin ko lang at literal na kayang baguhin yung mga pangit at madidilim na views ko sa current situation hahaha, so gameee
1) VITRUM vs SIRDEO -nung sumisigaw si Lanzeta (ata) ng "deymmm" sarcastically dun sa enumeration ng Uprising albums na scheme pati sa ibang predictable lines yet strong conviction ni deo hahahahahahaha -kung totoo nga ang diyos dapat nga siya patayin! -may halo na art mabaho na part hahahahahahahahah
2) SAYADD vs FROOZ -next level endorsment 😅 -550 praning ano target market mo mga mayayaman na gusto magmukhang swkating 🤣 -sheettt ang tanga dibaaaa!
3) M ZHAYT vs DAMSA (old school freestyle) -dito ko immediately naging personal top 5 si M Zhayt, kahit bago pa lang siya neto (up until now, untouchable sa top 5) -babanatan kita ng mabibibilis, time! -boy tango resurgence hahahha -yung lahat ng beat na ginamit ugghjh, nung narinig ko pucha ano to, nakakabaliw, made me fall in love sa liga at culture lalo, lowkey naghikayat sakin mag dig deeper (Real Raw - Dr. Octagon Instrumental) (Back Down - 50 Cent Instrumental)
4) POI4 METRO MANILA -yung halimaw si Shernan sa wildcard cypher TAENA NIYO MGA BADUY MGA PAKSHET -man of steel e bat mukha kang kahoy ahhahaha -yung isa nagreklamo bat daw nag aaway ahahhaa -astig din ni Bogito rito ahhaha laughtrip den, pati si Blonskie ang bata pa -yung mga ibang beat din pala na ginamit (Necro - Underground tsaka Black Helicopters) lalo yung unang-una dikolam title
5) LOONIE vs AKLAS -sinong hindi hahaha
6) VOX SHOX vs MCKOY (beatbox battle) -yung bass ni vox shox walangya tas yung parteng parang may pinipihit siyang volume -'pag naririnig ko rin yung intro ng Grain Assault 4 parang automatically naaalala ko kung pano binodybag ni BLKD si Gin ahhaha tas naaalala ko yung line ni Tipsy na pabara-bara niyang dance moves na nirhyme niya sa gaya-gaya ka palkups, impressive rhyming that time, actually hanggang ngayon maganda pa rin -yung parang timer na tunog ni Mckoy bilang ender tas napa- "ano naman" na gesture si Vox Shox hahaha
7) JIGSAW vs PRINCE RHYME -pag malungkot ako eto lang talaga go-to ko madalas. Sayang din si Jigsaw sobrang trip ko style niya kaso nangibang bansa ata e, basta laughtrip to nung live
8) SAYADD vs JAPORMZ -kahit nag OT tas hindi dapat, ok lang kasi sulit hahahah, entertainment value at its peak puta -ganto sa gapo yung maporma hahahahah -pag sinasapak ni Japormz yung dibdib niya hahaha tas pag binabanggit niya yung nirerep niya na street o lugar ahahha
9) SHERNAN vs HAZKY -trip na trip ko lang talaga yung r3 ni shernan sobrang laughtrip yung uprising-anak scheme, parang yung satisfaction grabe pagtas intayin lahat nung rounds na laughtrip din naman talaga
10) ZAITO vs BATANG REBELDE -pukenginangpukikinangpukikingnginamo -pakyu -sobrang lulutong tas sabay sasabihin ayokong magmura 🤣🤣🤣
11) MHOT vs LANZETA vs CRIPLI vs SIBIL vs DILIM -grabe to nung live, naaalala ko biglang tutok sila Apoc, Loonie, Harlem, (ay judge rin ata sila lahat iirc, kaya pala) etc, basta halatang maraming naexcite, interisado at tumutok after siguro ng mga 5-6 battles, na naspearhead ng flow exhibition at clash nina Jonas at Damsa, ay diko sure kung alin nauna, basta magkasunod yun eh... kita rin sa footage si Illtimate na nahahype sa flow ni Lanzeta hahahah. Narinig ko rin sabe ni Harlem "grabe lakas nung mga bata mo ah" tas sabe ni Nico "diko bata yung mga yun gago" kasi parang rising stars sila Lanz at Invcitus that time eh. -dito ko narealize na mas masasaya yung pitstyle events na mga napuntahan ko compared sa mga big stage -ewe ewe ewan ko sayo -tunog robot sa harap ng fan -taglay mo ang pangangatawan ng isang batugan na pulis hahahaha -google ginugugol (though nagamit na ni Loonie yon sa isang track na featured siya, kaya halatang parang nagraise ng brows) pero parang najustify nung nirhyme ni CripLi sa tooter ginagawang tutor, ang ganda
12) ZAITO vs THIKE -bike nike mike like hahahahahaha -tsaka yung event na to literal na perfect lang talaga from start to finish, rip lil john though
13) TEAM LA vs TEAM CB -very definition ng "classic" na battle, diba? Hahaha ambata ko pa neto tas naaalala kong tawang tawa ko sampu beses daw umiikot yung timbangan
14) APEKZ vs SNATCH -zombie vs plants -pareko pareko ahhahahahahah -since birth miss earth -ginagawa raw lollipop yung johnsons buds ambaboy amputa hahahah
15) ZEND LUKE vs PLAZMA -the fact na naging dikit at dikdikan mas tumaas yung entertainment value, bukod sa trip na trip ko na talaga yung mga concepts at approach nila pareho coming into this battle -naramdaman kong at this point of time, deeply appreciated na yung mga gantong stilo dahil sa reception ng crowd
16) TARGET vs KJAH -just simply stood out kumpara sa mga battle noon nung time nayon dahil sa concept -nung pinahagingan ni Kjah yung malalaking kompanya tas tinawanan ni Batas ng malakas, kasi nasa event ata sila ng isang kompanya hahahah
17) APOC vs SMUGGLAZ -cemented Apoc as my top 5 fave all time, literal na perpekto na battle lang talaga. Yung projection ni Smugg dito tumatagos sa kaluluwa, arguably the best battle i witnessed live
18) TOWPHER vs MARSHALL BONIFACIO -pinaamoy ng utot -yung angle ni MB na lahat ng ginagawa mo kaya gawin ni CripLi trip na trip ko lang
19) FLIPSIDES - TWENG -grabe lang nakakainspire parang ansarap maglayas ahhaha
20 BATAS vs RANGE -ayaw natin sa pdea -epitome ng style clash, hahaha laughtrip at the same time busog
21) ZAITO vs CHARRON -actually eto yung year na hindi talaga ako tutok or ultra updated kaya nung napanood ko 'to literal na tumatak at may phase na halos inaraw-araw ko hahahah
22) PLAZMA vs MHOT -kasi may flowers at props para kina Ejac & Buddahbeads -yung halatang naaappreaciate ni sir Plaz yung mga linya ni Mhot lalo dun sa dikalab at tao sa loob ng ataol -inumpisahan ang reign at tinakeover na ni Mhot ang pleptap hahaha dejoke
23) MAGZ vs MALIXI (beatbox battle) -naaalala ko nung natuto ako magbeatbox ng onti, binabalik-balikan ko yung part na naglabas ng toy gun si Magz tas ginawa niya yung binabaril niya na sound fx tas hindi ko magaya-gaya hahaha tas naconvince ako dati nung bata ako na kaya nagagawa niya lang yun kasi may sungki siya hahaha
24) TEAM SS vs STIELO JAY TEE -hahahahah classic, souljaboy -yung flow ni Smugg sa r1 na nainterrupt ng cheer at pagkamangha ng fans
25) HARLEM vs ZEND LUKE -island hopper na conyo na source hahahah -best battle nung quarantine no doubt
26) KAHIR vs JAPORMZ -matapang kalang kasi may mga militar!!!!
27) J-BLAQUE vs HARLEM -grabe yung angles ni Marshall nakakadurog -andami niyang quotables na ironically hindi ko maalala eh
28) SAYADD / AKLAS vs DAMSA / FLICT-G -tawang-tawa ko kasi lasing si Damsa tas pinapatabi siya ni flict ahahhahaha -barokkk!!!!!!
29) AKT vs SIRDEO -alam kong neurodivergent ako pero ibang spectrum na yan! Hahaha -despite sa mga nangyari, isantabi muna yon, sobrang entertaining lang talaga nito -i-ignore raw sabi ni Nico pagtas nung round pero imposible iignore sa sobrang gago ahhahah humihiga na 🤣🤣🤣 habang nirereference o kinakanta yung: Tunay na Baliw - Konflick ft. Loonie
30) APOC vs TIPSY D -tangina idol Apoc relativityyyy imaginary linessss -last battle sa B-side tangina
31) GORIONG TALAS vs BATANG REBELDE -hahahahah #throwback ano kayo highschool -pati si gorio laughtrip kay br hahahah -speedrap hindi naririnig -rebut ni gorio diko maalala pero basta pambura
32) INVICTUS vs ABRA -mga numerong tumatak: 7'1 at 2-0 hahhah
33) RUFFIAN vs KARISMA -naaalala ko yung drive at gigil nung M Zhayt vs Pistol dito (yung umulan ng rebut). Though dito medyo mas modern na. Basta parang ganon medyo yung feels, mga banggaan ng highly anticipated rookies.
34) ZAITO vs MHOT -pinana sa leeg ahhahaha -best version ni Zaito, lalo material-wise
35) BLKD vs FROOZ -reenactment nung may sinapak si Pricatagg sa lumang video -naaalala ko yung mga comments dito na disappointed kay BLKD pero kung usapang material lang topnotch parin talaga kaya ewan ko sakanila -edi may utang kapa
36) SIRDEO vs K-RAM -reaction nung emcees sa hinihimod mo pa HAHAHAHAHAHH lalo sila Plazma at JDee
37) LIL JOHN vs CRIPLI -wild ng crowd swakto pang opener ng event, naaalala ko inuna pa 'to iupload kahit dipa tapos yung uploads nung isang event bilang tribute
[Ayan 37 lang para may "Clerks (1994)" reference haha]
Once ma-upload yung Empithri vs Kenzer baka maging instant favorite at maulit-ulit ko rin yon.
Sur Henyo vs M Zhayt naman kung outside FlipTop. Grabe yung flow ni Sur sa r1 pero hindi niya kinalimutang sumuntok.
Anw, very simple mechanics nalang siguro ay maglista ng mga 3 - 10 battles in CAPS LOCK (pwede ring isa lang kung yun yung trip mo) at ilista yung rason or mga rason sa baba kungbat. It may be about your favorite moments, schemes, of course at somepoint may naging gusto ka dahil may paboritong kang lines don sa battle. Basta kahit anong description o characteristics nung battle na maireremind mo na puwede ring makapag elicit ng nostalgia sa mga long time fans at maishehsare mo naman dun sa mga hindi pa ganon katagal pero naappreciate parin yung movement ng as much sa mas matatagal na nakasubaybay. Basically anything na mas makakapag-pakulay ng diskusyon at makakapagpa-entertain sa mga magbabasa. Bale nilista ko rin pala yung mga reasons na parang mostly off the top lang, para mas authentic at genuine yung dating kung bat sila nagustuhan, at yung 37 na to ay in no particular order. Feel free rin ulitin yung mga ibang battle na nabanggit ko kung may sarili kang version or actually even kahit kaparehas ng way ng pagka-paborito o pag-appreciate sa mga battle na yon.
Tsaka to add, I mean oo gets, hindi to yung mga maituturing na pinaka dikdikan, pinaka clever, yung iba dito hindi pinaka "pang battle" in terms of material, or siguro para sa iba eh hindi pasok sa any other ideal representation ng battle rap... Pero may mga certain developments lang talaga na unforgettable at mga narrative na mas nakakapaghook sayo eh, at yan yung mga sakin. Pero it doesn't mean na hindi ako attentive at appreciative sa mga vital aspects ng battle rap, and in fact naeenjoy ko parin sila ng todo hanggang ngayon, and siguro I can attest to that by saying napanood ko na literal lahat ng videos ng FlipTop so far hahaahahah ewan ko kung nakakaproud ba dapat yon. Anw, minsan may mga moments lang talaga na mas naging remarkable dahil nakapattern sa mga personal na trip mo, at yun yung mga postive version ng lowbrow escapism ko pagdating sa FlipTop, na bukod sa pag-express at pagbahagi, gusto ko rin sanang makinig at madiskubre sa iba't-ibang perspective.

EDIT: Ya'll have convinced me it's probably a SWSO. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and for opening up a huge rabbit hole to dive into. I will continue looking for a Saxony wheel elsewhere and learning more about these SWSO!
Oh, what wonders there are on Facebook Marketplace. The initial listing only had the first image, but I asked for more detail and the seller provided two additional photos. They aren't familiar with spinning or the history of this wheel, only that it has "made in Canada" stamped on it. Are there any immediate red flags that could signify this being a decorative / non functional wheel? Any missing parts, other than the drive band? I don't have working knowledge on the parts / anatomy of a Saxony wheel (having only used Castle style, hello Kiwi 2) but I think everything is there.
For the price, I can deal with needing to give the wheel a good clean and only having one bobbin. I like spinning singles anyway. :P
Original image. All the parts appear to be accounted for (minus the drive band) and there's no obvious construction errors.
Close up of the wheel. Again, no obvious signs of damage to the wood, other than it being \"well-loved. and needing a good clean.
Not the most informative angle, but the flyer has robust looking hooks and appears to connect to all the right places for this style of wheel. Bobbin could also use a good clean...

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When opting for a private bike tour in the vibrant city of New York, visitors can enjoy the convenience of flexible scheduling to accommodate their unique preferences. Whether you are an early riser keen to explore the city in the morning light, an afternoon adventurer seeking iconic sights under the sun, or someone captivated by the city's shimmering skyline at dusk, private bike tours can be tailored to your preferred time of day. For instance, imagine starting your day with a serene ride through Central Park, followed by a leisurely afternoon cruising along the Hudson River, and ending with a magical twilight tour of Times Square - the choice is yours to make your New York experience truly unforgettable.
In addition to flexible scheduling, private bike tours offer the option to customize the duration of the tour to suit individual preferences and interests. Participants can choose from various time slots, ranging from a few hours to a full day of exploration, allowing for a comprehensive and immersive journey through the city. This adaptability ensures that visitors can make the most of their time in New York City, whether they prefer a quick overview of the highlights or a more leisurely and in-depth exploration of the diverse neighborhoods and attractions.
Private tours cater to a range of group sizes, from solo travelers to large corporate outings, providing customized rates and arrangements to accommodate different needs and preferences. For example, solo travelers may opt for a private tour with a dedicated guide for a more personalized experience, while larger groups can enjoy team-building activities or family-friendly adventures tailored to their interests. By offering flexible scheduling, customizable durations, and adaptable group sizes, private bike tours in NYC ensure that every participant can enjoy a memorable and engaging exploration of the city, creating lasting memories with their companions.

Language Options and Tour Accessibility

Private bike tours in NYC are designed to accommodate guests from various linguistic backgrounds, ensuring a seamless and inclusive experience for all. For instance, visitors who are hearing-impaired can benefit from guides proficient in American Sign Language (ASL), enhancing their understanding of the tour's historical and cultural insights. Additionally, multilingual guides proficient in languages like Spanish, French, and Mandarin not only provide language accessibility but also enrich the tour with diverse perspectives and anecdotes, making it a truly immersive experience for participants.
The provision of audio headset rentals further enhances the accessibility of private bike tours in New York City. This feature is particularly beneficial for non-English speakers, as it enables them to follow the guide's commentary clearly throughout the tour. By offering these language options and accessibility features, private bike tours ensure that all participants, regardless of their linguistic background, can fully engage with the tour's highlights and insights, making it a memorable and enriching experience for everyone involved.
In addition to language options, private bike tours prioritize accessibility for participants with diverse needs and preferences. For example, guides are trained to provide assistance to individuals with mobility challenges, ensuring that everyone can enjoy a safe and comfortable tour experience. Furthermore, accommodations can be made for participants with specific dietary restrictions, ensuring that all guests can fully partake in the culinary delights and experiences offered during the tour. By promoting inclusivity and accessibility, private bike tours in NYC create a welcoming and engaging environment for participants of all backgrounds, ensuring that everyone can enjoy the vibrant sights and sounds of the city.

Safety Protocols and Equipment Standards

When embarking on a private bike tour in the NYC area, safety is a top priority. Beyond the thrill of exploration, ensuring the well-being of participants is paramount. Private tour operators meticulously maintain their bikes and equipment, adhering to stringent industry standards to guarantee a safe and smooth riding experience. For example, brakes, gears, and tire pressure are regularly checked and adjusted to prevent any mechanical issues during the tour. This attention to detail not only promotes safety but also contributes to the overall enjoyment of the journey, allowing riders to focus on the sights and sounds of the city.
The guides leading private bike tours are not only knowledgeable about the city's landmarks but also hold certifications in CPR and first aid. This additional training equips them to handle any unforeseen emergencies promptly and effectively, offering participants peace of mind throughout the excursion. Picture this: while cruising along the Hudson River, if a participant were to encounter a minor injury, the guide's swift response and medical expertise ensure a quick resolution, allowing the tour to proceed without disruption. These safety measures underscore the commitment of private bike tour companies to providing a secure environment for guests to explore the vibrant streets of New York City.
In addition to equipment maintenance and guide certifications, private bike tours implement strict safety protocols to ensure the well-being of all participants. For instance, small group sizes are maintained to allow for a higher guide-to-participant ratio, enabling guides to provide personalized attention and assistance as needed. This focus on individualized support and supervision enhances the overall safety of the tour, ensuring that participants can explore the city with confidence and peace of mind. By prioritizing safety at every step of the journey, private bike tours in the NYC area offer a secure and enjoyable experience for riders of all skill levels and backgrounds, creating a memorable and worry-free adventure through the bustling streets of New York City.

Customer Testimonials and Reviews

When looking at customer testimonials and reviews for private bike tours in NYC, it becomes evident that participants value the personalized service and attention to detail provided during these experiences. For instance, many visitors express their admiration for the knowledgeable guides who share historical facts, movie references, and insider tips throughout the tour. This personalized touch not only enhances the sightseeing aspect but also creates a deeper connection to the city's rich culture and heritage.
Numerous reviews emphasize the unique discoveries made during private bike tours in NYC. For example, guests often praise the opportunity to explore lesser-known gems and hidden art installations that are not typically covered in standard group tours. These unexpected finds add an element of excitement and exclusivity to the experience, making the tour memorable and enriching for participants of all ages and backgrounds. The blend of iconic landmarks and off-the-beaten-path locations ensures that private bike tours offer a well-rounded exploration of the city, catering to both first-time visitors and seasoned New York enthusiasts alike.
Customer testimonials often highlight the seamless booking process and exceptional customer service provided by private tour operators in the NYC area. Whether it's assistance with selecting the right tour package, coordinating special arrangements, or addressing specific inquiries, guests appreciate the professionalism and responsiveness of the tour companies. By prioritizing customer satisfaction and ensuring a smooth and enjoyable experience from start to finish, private bike tours in NYC have garnered positive reviews and recommendations from visitors seeking a unique and unforgettable adventure through the vibrant streets of the city.

Embracing the Private NYC Bike Tour Experience

As you consider exploring the bustling streets of New York City, embracing a private bike tour promises a truly personalized and unforgettable journey. The allure of private tours lies in the unique benefits they offer, including the flexibility to customize your itinerary to match your specific interests and the exclusive access they provide to off-the-beaten-path locations not covered in standard group tours. For instance, you could opt for a specialized food tour, indulging in the diverse culinary delights of the city's neighborhoods, or tailor your experience as a photography enthusiast to capture the best vantage points and hidden gems.
The intimate nature of private tours ensures that you receive personalized attention from knowledgeable guides who are adept at sharing insider tips and local knowledge. These guides not only offer historical facts and anecdotes but can also provide insights into movie references and lesser-known stories about the iconic landmarks you visit. Imagine cycling through Central Park or crossing the Brooklyn Bridge while your guide unveils fascinating details about the locations, enriching your experience and deepening your appreciation for the city's history and culture. So, why wait? Book your private NYC bike tour today and embark on a journey that promises to be as unique and vibrant as the city itself, creating memories that will last a lifetime.
Check out this New York Bike Tour Now.
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Man, I love this phone.
Swappable battery has kept it alive for ages thanks to cheap replacements now and then. SD card storage for all the music/photos/vids I could want. Quad DAC/AMP to really hammer in the music and drive some decently built headphones & IEMs with high imp.
It's been a great phone. The apps I use everyday still work; Reddit, Google maps, Telegram; Bank apps, robinhood, anything I could really want still works fine.
The only minor complaint and driving force behind my upgrade after all these years is that it gets a bit notably hot when I'm using a car charger to keep the phone topped up on days I do long drives while running GPS + Music; recently drove 4 hours to and 4 hours from a potential place I was gonna move to, and we're eyeing the idea of a 12+ hour haul from east coast to Chicago in the upcoming months as a move, and frankly, I'm a little paranoid my phone will finally go thermonuclear, melt some soldeetc and shit the bed in the middle of nowhere Ohio while I'm already stressing over moving.
So, in my paranoia, I've decided to bite the bullet. After a bit of searching and friends convincing me, I'm moving on to an S24 Ultra. Already kind of dreading needing a separate USB-C to 3.5mm converter, but I found a Fiio KA1 DAC and hope it's at least comparable to the lgv20, even if it's an extra thing I gotta keep track of.
In a way, it's sad. I kind of wish I could run the lgv20 til it dies, but I know it'd be a massive pain if I lost photos/videos and had to figure out authenticator apps from a dead phone and all the other pain that'll come if I don't do it ahead of time.
Phone is still in a great condition with only 2-3 very minor micro scratches I noticed on the glass screen protector today when I gave it a close examination under a flashlight and several angles. Runs well. Never caused much strife or pain aside aforementioned hot-ness sometimes leading to it dropping my google maps route and needing me to pull over and reboot the app (happens once every month or two I'd say, at most), but that was minor.
Man... Gotta start figuring out all the apps to reinstall, new wallpapers to get, all that fun stuff.
So long LGv20. You've been a great phone. Not sure what I'll do with it once I get the S24 in and swap everything over, but a viking funeral seems appropriate at this point haha. Maybe I'll keep it as a little dedicated audio player...
As a last goodbye, have a pic of my lockscreen and homescreen wallpapers. I'll miss 'em and considering bringing them back for the new phone, but to me, they are the LGv20 I've had for 8 years strong.
So ends the story of another lgv20. See ya lil guy.

I backed the Rythmagica kickstarter, and today I received their new TDC10 drum controller. Shipping took about 11 days to Germany. The campaign was handled well, with lots of updates and good communication. It's great to see Independent_Ad_6312 being active here on the subreddit, too.
I haven't had time to thoroughly test the TDC10 yet, I just played a couple of songs. First impressions are largely positive, but I also found some negatives...
The product arrived tightly packed in a cardboard box, with the wooden stand on top of the case.
The wood parts left some slight imprints/dents on the case (not really visible on my photo), but I don't mind.
Inside the case is the drum itself, a foam pad, and beneath that the rest of the accessories:

• a printed user manual in Japanese and English
• wooden drumsticks / bachi (diameter 17mm, length 315mm, weight about 45g per piece) One of them was noticeably pointier than the other.
• a plastic stand with metal bolt for attaching both halves
• a USB cable (type A to type A, 1.33 meters), and a type A (female) to type C (male) adapter
• 4 screws for the VESA mount

Getting both types of stand was a nice suprise. I hadn't been paying attention and assumed I'd get either the plastic or the wooden stand. Neither of them is perfect, but they'll probably do their job well enough.

• The two wood parts aren't identical, so you need to pay attention which leg goes on the left and which on the right. One of the two parts that I got is almost a bit too tight for slotting in the drum.
• The two plastic parts are identical, so both can be used for either side, neat! However, the plastic stand appears to rely somewhat on the "ears" of the TDC10 to prevent it from spreading its legs. The wooden stand seems more stable in that regard.
• Both stand types have "claws" that extend a bit onto the drum surface. I hadn't imagined this would be a problem, but while playing I hit them several times already, due to the flat angle I'm used to playing at (bachi close and almost parallel to the drum surface).

Unfortunately, one of my plastic stand legs is missing the anti-slip rubber strips in the front! I checked the Japanese unboxing video that was posted here before, and yes, same thing there (15 seconds into the video), so this might be a more common issue. Have you been made aware of that, Independent_Ad_6312?
Further impressions:

• I've been playing on the IINE Pro Max and Taikoller the past months. The TDC10 with its 25cm diameter (same as red IINE, slightly larger than Hori) does feel cramped in comparison and will take some getting used to again. But it's a good upgrade over a Hori.
• Wooden bachi, and even plastic ones, will leave marks on the drum skin. Not specific to the TDC10, also happens on other drums, but might come as a surprise to some. I tried to capture it in this video. The pits will somewhat smoothen out over time, but they won't disappear completely.
• I find the USB cable with its 1.33m a tad too short. 1.8m or 2.0m would have been better.
• I'm using the 1.1 Android app. Has sometimes trouble connecting after standby, but works well enough. I would prefer physical buttons, of course...

Here's an Imgur gallery with all my high-res photos, including side by side shots with other drums: https://imgur.com/a/yWU8xcx

To start I’ve only played halo ce, reach. I’m new to actually playing the game
Playing through halo 2 rn and this may be an unpopular opinion but I don’t mind the sniper jackles. Easy spawns, low health, and as someone who played tf2 sniper for years on end I don’t mind it. Like just swing peak a dif angle. To locate them look at trajectories and punish. Like there free ammo and give u a great weapon. Like I low key mind the elites way more cuz of there shield(shoutout the elite combo).
It’s strange having no health just a shield.
Also the music is amazing, like that is a thing modern games are missing.
Also why does the cheif have the weakest throwing arm in the history of people throwing things.
Not even gunna talk about vehicle combat.