Posted in beginner questions too but seeing if this gets more visibility. I got this phalaenopsis from the grocery store ~3 weeks ago. It had a lot of flowers already, and four buds that were going to come to bloom. Two of the buds did open up over time, but I've noticed now that the remaining two have turned yellow, dry, and wilty. The little care card on it said to water 1-2 ounces every week, so I've done two mini-icecubes each week since they're roughly an ounce each. I also got the miracle-gro orchid feed mister and have been spraying the leaves and roots (not flowers) with that when I add the ice cubes. I know since this is brand new from the store there's likely a ball of moss in there so I don't want to oversaturate and start off with root rot.
I'm also thinking it looks like one of the leaves here has a tinge of yellow to it? Could be a trick of the light. It's the leaf directly above the broken one (already bent when I bought it).
Thoughts on what caused these two buds to stop growing? Am I watering enough/too much? I definitely have a black thumb but I really want this one to stay alive.
(I haven't assessed the roots inside the pot at all, was going to remix/repot after the blooms all fall. I'll get orchid-specific mix/bark and I already have an orchid pot with a bunch of holes in it.) I tried to see if there's a clear container inside the pot but idk if it's just heavy, or stuck to each other, or if there isn't one at all, but I couldn't seem to get it to lift out)
Some of these roots are wild but I know they like to stretch out in general so I figured that was okay? The one by the broken leaf definitely looks thirsty though; moreso than the other sprawling ones, anyway.

The Elite four and Wallace had much lower leveld Pokemon than I anticipated/remembered, so I overleveled my team which resulted in a somewhat lackluster experience.
Or in other words. I used a level 68 Absol which Sword Danced through the entire Elite Four and Wallace on its own.
I want to make Steven a little more fun experience. For Battle Frontier, I brought my entire Team up to level 75 and I was wondering if that's a good point to take on Steven.
To whom it may concern, this is my team:
Absol (Sword Dance/Shadow Ball/Slash/Aerial Ace)
Gardevoir (Calm Mind/Hypnosis/Dream EateConfusion)
Aggron (Earthquake/Rest/Metal Claw/Rockslide)
Latias (RecovePsychic/Thunderbolt/Dragonbreath)
Lapras (Ice Beam/Water Pulse/Sing/Sheer Cold)
Charizard (FlamethroweDragon Claw/Body Slam/Scary Face)
My Backup Pokemon which I use sometimes
Armaldo (Ancient PoweHyper Beam/Sword Dance/Metal Claw)
Seviper (Glare/Toxic/Protect/Crunch)
Sceptile (Leaf Blade/Giga Drain/Agility/Pursuit)
(And the three main Legendaries of Gen 3, but I want to avoid using them for this, to make it more of a challenge)
PS I apologize for this shitty format text, but I am writing this on my mobile and the reddit app sucks

A comprehensive guide to Asta’s entire arsenal: Asta received the five-leaf grimoire at the age of 15, which contains the Sword Magic of its previous owner, Licht. Thanks to an Anti-Magic devil residing inside the grimoire, both the grimoire and its swords also acquired Anti-Magic properties.
The 5-leaf Grimoire and the Devil

Asta's Swords:

Asta has a total of 4 swords in the grimoire.

• Demon-Slayer Sword

This is Asta’s first sword that came with the grimoire, and it boasts a basic ability: slashing through spells and repelling them. Using the 1st sword, Asta can do:

1. Black Meteorite: A powerful slash attack where Asta homes in on the opponent to strike with his sword, dealing significant damage to the foe.
2. Black Hurricane: A spinning attack that swiftly negates and repels numerous incoming attacks.
3. Black Divider: By infusing more Anti-Magic into the sword, Asta can extend its edges, turning it into a formidable weapon.

Asta can remotely control the sword and use it for flying by standing on it.
Black Meteorite
Black Divider
Black Hurricane

• Demon-Dweller Sword

The second sword, which Asta acquired in a dungeon near the Diamond Kingdom, grants him a few powerful abilities:

1. Black Slash: By imbuing it with Anti-Magic, Asta can release a devastating Anti-Magic Slash that cuts through enemy spells and inflicts heavy damage.
2. Comra-Demon: By bestowing the Anti-Magic upon his close allies, allowing them to use Pseudo Anti-Magic.

The Demon-Dweller Sword can also absorb enemy spells and redirect them. Asta later combines this sword with his first sword for a more effective Black Hurricane.
Black Slash
Comra-Demon

• Demon-Destroyer Sword

The third sword, which Asta acquired during the Elf Invasion Arc, grants him:

1. Fate-Release (Causality Break): With this sword, Asta can sever the cause-and-effect relationship of magic spells, effectively rendering them null.

By thrusting the sword into a person, Asta can effectively negate the spells affecting them.
Causality Break

• Demon-Slasher Katana

Asta’s fourth and final sword, was received from Yami during the battle against Dante. Yami entrusted it to Asta when he fought alongside him and later got kidnapped by Zenon. Notable abilities include:

1. This katana allows Asta to imbue and control Anti-Magic, enabling him to release moving slashes that cut through physical objects and negate magic spells.
   
2. Selective Cut: The sword only slices through what Asta intends, leaving everything else unharmed.
   
3. Infinite Slash-Equinox: Inspired by Yami’s Dimension Slash-Equinox spell, Asta can unleash a long-range slash capable of cutting through anything in its vicinity.
   

Selective Cut
Infinite Slash: Equinox

Asta's Transformations:

Thanks to the Devil Binding Ritual that Asta performed with his Anti-Magic Devil, Liebe, Asta now has full access to Anti-Magic and has achieved several transformations. These include:

• Devil Union

1. This transformation triggers when Asta unites with his devil.
2. He gains four horns, star-like pupils, a tail, two wings, and a full set of armor and his devil’s markings.
3. Additionally, he acquires a few Anti-Magic orbs that float behind him, constantly releasing Anti-Magic energy to negate all surrounding magic.
4. Devil Union is the initial transformation he learns after performing the ritual, but it only lasts for about 5 minutes.
5. In this state, all of his sword’s abilities receive a tremendous boost, and Asta himself gains enhanced speed and perception.

Devil Union

• True Devil Union

When Asta (the host) and Liebe (the devil) are in a complete synchrony, they achieve True Devil Union. Asta grows a total of five horns.

1. He gains new slit pupils, loses his armor, his devil marks change, the tail remains the same. The orbs become more stable and no longer leak energy.
2. In this state, Asta negates any and every magic of anything he touches or gets touched. His speed and reaction time also gets a significant boost.

True Devil Union

• Black Form

In the 15 month timeskip, Asta completed the transformation of his Black Form. By engulfing himself in some Anti-Magic, Asta triggers a transformation where he gains 4 horns, 2 wings and his devil markings. This also boosts his sword's abilities.
Black Form

• Partial Devil Union

Similar to the Devil Union, but the Anti-Magic (armor) is concentrated only on a part of his body (typically his right arm), making it much stronger and denser.

1. Extended Duration: Asta can maintain this state for 10 minutes, compared to the 5 minutes of the regular Devil Union.
2. Perks Remain Unchanged: Despite the localized focus, the perks and abilities remain the same as those in the Devil Union state.

Partial Devil Union

Asta's Ki:

Along with Asta's arsenal, Asta also knows how to manipulate Ki (The Life Energy). The abilities include:

1. Ki Sensing:
   • This ability allows Asta to sense the Ki (Life Energy) of his surroundings.
   • He can use it to detect people, objects, as well as spells.
   • Essentially, it provides precognition, allowing him to anticipate threats and opportunities.
2. Zetten:
   • An advanced Ki-manipulation technique and a combination of Ki and Magic that allows the user to make precision strikes. Asta instead uses Anti-Magic, taking all the Ki and combining it with Anti-Magic, resulting in an explosive boost (as high as 20-fold) to his strikes.
   • Additionally, this combination significantly increases Asta’s speed.

Zetten

Some interesting bits of info about Devil Union:

• The Demon-Destroyer Sword changes its appearance when used in Devil Union.
• The Devil Union appearance changes depending on the sword Asta is holding.
• In Devil Union, he gets two cross marks on his cheeks, but only has one in True Devil Union.
• Upon activating Devil Union, Asta’s headband markings change into a strange crown-like symbol.

Demon-Destroyer Sword: Normal vs. in Devil Union
Devil Union appearances
The ever-growing Asta certainly possesses an extensive arsenal, and he may acquire even more techniques and abilities in the future. However, for now, he has cemented his position as one of the strongest Magic Knights in the history of Black Clover.

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Generous hours donated to the editing foundation by WaveOfWire
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Lukewarm water gave way to sand underfoot, frequent rocks and dried sea flora giving the orange shore a coarse design. Following an animate piece of metal to harvest underwater stone was not something the gray-skinned fisherwoman thought she would ever be doing. She hauled the ‘potassium’ up and into the wheelbarrow alongside her sister, the once-submerged resources’ rugged texture reflecting the bright sun’s rays in peculiar ways. Unfortunately, the days were getting colder much faster than she would have liked, despite the plentiful light. It was dismissible, but it ever so slightly urged her toward the warmth of the fires… and her new living quarters—the luxurious abode provided by the star-sent himself.
She could not understand how the brick home was capable of keeping such heat without flames, but she would not question it. Instead, she elected to enjoy the first nights of truly comfortable sleep in a long while… and it had been quite some time since the fisherwoman twins enjoyed the luxury of proper civilization. The village was quiet and peaceful compared to the bustling capitol, but it simply lacked the amenities that a large population provided. Their escape to the island provided poor bedding, no entertainment, little variation in food, and a nauseating deficiency of rum. Oh, how the sisters missed the sweet burning liquid. Their… past… may have heightened such affection for the alcohol, but it also didn’t help that they were suddenly branded as sky-worshipers and forced to flee to a humble islet—one that didn’t have any drinks besides boiled water…
Now look at the fisherwoman; there was no escaping her banishment. All that time spent making good with the locals, just for the inquisitors to show up once more and throw her onto the deck of a boat before it departed for an unknown land. She was not scared of the prospect, no. So what if she was to live on the mainland? It was no less rural than the last island—one they were just getting used to. No, she was vengeful for what they had stripped from her and her sister. They had crawled their way from nothing to something within the capitol only a winter or two prior. They could have lived like regular citizens. She supposed it was the grace of the Mountain God that they were led to an actual deity-sent. The siblings’ living situation had improved, too, even over their previous urban living situation. The two would not have to resort to… alternate forms of making a living ever again. She was even starting to appreciate the honor of completing a hard day’s work.
The wheelbarrow creaked and whined underneath the strain it was put under. The hefty rocks were intent on digging the two wheels deep into the dirt. Her sister’s equipment was fairing much the same, but they persevered, dragging the precious haul to the workshop where the Creator needed them. She shoved the portable storage up and over the small hump of the ‘cargo bay’ entrance, hauling it down the rows of animate creations.
Dozens of ‘hums,’ ‘whirrs,’ ‘tonks,’ ‘slams,’ and ear-mauling scrapes assaulted her senses. The ‘machines’ were clumped up with one another under the bright white lights. They spat materials, clear liquids, and yellow gasses amongst their others in a jumble of… something. Some things boiled, others hissed. There was much going on, with one foreign male at the center of it all.
The Creator stood by a towering device, pushing it with the help of the juvenile and the ceramist. The group slid the apparatus into place, leaving the star-sent to deftly manage the many colors on the glowing, rune-filled panel, while the assistants were dismissed, having received a few genuine words of appreciation from the male.
The gray-skinned fisherwoman clicked her tongue, garnering his attention, his weary eyes meeting her own.
“Hey,” he addressed them casually, eyeing their cargo with a raised brow. “You two are back soon. You can put the stuff in the same place as last, then just close the panel. Appreciate the hard work. Feel free to take a break between the next three loads; these machines won’t work fast enough to keep up with y’all.”
“You have my appreciation,” the twins said in unison.
The two of them did as asked, traversing the maze of tubes and metal, pouring the crumbling rocks into the belly of the machine, making sure to close the door as requested. Her sister sighed and stretched her back, extending all four arms up and backward, revealing the short cuts she had on their undersides. The fisherwoman cringed underneath the sudden aura of shame at the sight… It was the only real differentiator between the two, and it was her fault.
“I believe I shall take up the Creator on his blessing and take a short break by the fire. Will you join me?” her twin asked.
“I will be there shortly. Allow me a moment,” she returned.
Her counterpart squinted playfully. “Planning on something with the males, eh?”
“Nothing of the sort,” the fisherwoman chided, flicking her sister's snout with a singular talon.
The twin scowled and turned away, exiting the castle swiftly.
The fisherwoman shook her head and made her way to the star-sent, heedfulness and hesitation quieting her footsteps. It was an unusual feeling. She was never the best when it came to respecting those higher on the mountain than herself; they were always flippant, derisively ordering and pecking at those ‘who make not an honest day’s work.’ She despised giving her labor for such self-assured fools, forced to put on a face for them while suffering through their ‘hierarchy.’
That was why the small island villagers were so welcoming. They were much less strict in their positions or status, allowing for a community focused on the goals of the whole rather than the aspirations of a singular high-ranking Malkrin. Maybe that was why it was so easy for the gray-skinned twins to return to sincere labor there.
The star-sent was much the same, though… different in one aspect. Where the village had a sort of collectivism while still keeping some status of the elders or those higher up the mountain, the Creator did not seem to place himself within any sort of hierarchy. He was solely focused on seeing the settlement progress, addressing and communicating with whomever as if they were of the same status. It made tasks a lot easier and was most certainly why she felt it so easy to approach him with such an unnecessary question.
He was not by the previous set of machines, leaving the fisherwoman to look around. She scanned the entire floor, looking over much of the equipment, spotting him by one of the desks. She stepped up behind him, curiously eying the items on his table. He was… disassembling his staff? His blunt digits twisted small metallic pieces and pulled off larger ones, sliding the large cylindrical end out. He continued until all the components were resting on their respective cuts of cloth, each cleaned and rubbed down with a few liquids.
The fisherwoman did not realize she was leaning over him and staring until he stopped and stretched upward, inadvertently tapping her snout. His chair jolted out of the way, turning around to face her. The Creator’s body was stiff as his wide eyes bored into her, palm resting atop his shoulder-bound blade. He stared up at her for a long few seconds, his burning glare stunning her in place all the while. A loud huff finally escaped him, his strained posture loosening.
“…Jesus, you fuckin’ scared me,” the high male groaned, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. His hand still had not left his knife. “Did you need something?”
“Forgive me star-sent,” she bowed her head, embarrassment and a hint of shame running through her frills. She quickly excused her actions nervously. “I did not mean to startle you… Nor did wish not to bother you, b-but I have a query. You had mentioned that I was free to ask any.”
“Mm, yeah.” The Creator finally released his blade and took a piece of cloth, returning to his task of rubbing down another metallic piece of his staff. “I’d rather you guys ask questions than sit in confusion. So, what’s up? Is there anything you need to harvest the deposits? We’ve got some metal to spare.”
Sparing metal for her simplistic job? Lord above… “N-No. Please excuse my prodding, but I wish to know what these machines are doing.”
“What they’re doing? Like, each one specifically or as a whole?”
“As a whole, Creator.” She did not dream of wrapping her head around the blessed equipment.
He grabbed a gray tube from his staff’s belt. “Gunpowder… for these. Or, more accurately, modified black powder. It’s just as powerful, but it’ll also put on more of a smoke show… and dirty the hell out of barrels and bolts alike…” He frowned at the components next to him before noticing her confused expression. He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s a powder that ignites and propels—” he dug into the cylinder with his digits and slid out a piece of metal. “—slugs and bullets. It’s essentially the whole reason guns work. I’m sure you’ve seen the FAL Akula’s touting around, right?”
She slowly nodded, understanding what he was alluding to. The dark-green-skinned fisherwoman was quite proud of receiving her own staff, keeping it in hand at all times.
“Yeah, so without this, her weapon would be as good as a piece of wood. That’s why I plan on making so much of it.”
“I… see.” She looked back at the whirring snake of moving parts within the center of the castle, a greater sense of awe settling on her as she took in its final purpose. “So it takes metals from a cave, rocks from the sea floor, and the burnt husks of logs to produce such?”
“There are a few more ingredients, like the spider-crab biofuel and trace air elements, but yeah.” The high male continued to clean the components of his weapon as if the process of gunpowder creation was only a menial accomplishment. “It takes a good bit of specific inputs to make the stuff.”
The others claimed the star-sent to be a wizard, and that would be an easy assessment with his staff and mystic equipment, but that would not be accurate. The Creator was clearly a great alchemist, turning useless materials into the very power of his grand weapons. Not to mention forming fine metals from coarse rocks. How did the settlers not see such? The villagers were more blessed than they realized.
A thousand other questions burned into her mind of what else he was capable of creating. What could he do with tree bark? What about dirt and fish? Were they ingredients of powerful remedies or sturdy materials? The dam almost burst, but she held it in. The star-sent’s invitation to casual conversation should not be squandered by her pestering any further. Perhaps he would enlighten her another time. For now, she was required to complete her tasks—this time with much more purpose than she had prior.
She thanked the high male and left for the shore with a swaying tail. Perhaps her efforts would be rewarded handsomely were she to keep it up.
\= = = = =
Harrison sat back on a stool by the outdoor range. The sun had already been down for some time, keeping much of his work underneath the few Malkrin-sized floodlights placed around the settlement. Their bright white light illuminated the decimated wooden targets twenty meters out, dim moonlit covering the rest of the meadows further beyond. It wasn’t a great idea to stay out in the night, given Tracy’s reconnaissance drones weren’t equipped with any night vision or thermals yet, but there was still work to be done, so he instead relied on two armed females to serve as early warnings and defense while he finished up his testing.
The modified black powder was finally narrowed down to a suitable side-grade for traditional double and triple-base gunpowder. The first batch wasn’t nearly powerful enough, and it dirtied the hell out of the FAL he used. The second attempt was much the same, but actually managed to reach an acceptable muzzle velocity. Now, after a whole day of experimenting with the ingredients, it was a damn powerful propellant. The most important ingredient was the added biofuel-adjacent compounds that were made from, of course, biofuel, and much of the air-extracted elements like oxygen and nitrogen.
It was an increasingly convoluted process that required many of the machines to be switched around. Most of their programmed inputs and outputs had been changed several times by the end of the day. Hell, almost the entirety of the workshop’s stock of chemical and mechanical fabrication units had been used up by the operation—if they hadn’t already been taken by the other ongoing lines of industry.
The powder dirtied the hell out of the rifles, it kicked like a horse, and it was a pain in the ass to synthesize, but it was done. He wouldn’t need to worry about letting loose any bullets into those spider-crabs anymore. He even had a suitable source of metal, solving all of his iron and steel needs too. It was small scale, but it was something, and that little bit of income was all he needed to start scaling up the process and deal with all the alloy-hungry projects he needed to start on.
The first of which was probably going to be simple automated mules for the heavy ore. He spent a good portion of the morning assisting with the mining operations until he was confident that the lumberjack got a hang of the hand-held lasers. The most prevailing thing the engineer learned from his efforts was how much of a pain in the ass it was to drag the sphalerite back on sleds.
They didn’t have any on-hand blueprints for any transportation droids until he traveled to the vehicle bay and got them himself. Thankfully, there just happened to be a woman who specialized in creating automated drones, and she was more than happy to take the task on herself. Some part of him felt a little bit of remorse for dumping the work on the technician, but she genuinely seemed to actually kind of enjoy it, almost like it was just a hobby for her. The woman even had her own corner of the workshop dedicated to her tinkering. It had two fabricators, warm yellow lighting, and plenty of cluttered parts and pieces around her laptop. All of it surrounded a central chair that she used to bounce between the different sections of the building process. One corner was for the printers and requesting components, another was for welding, a third for circuitry, and so on.
However, the whole thing did urge him to visit the vehicle bay before the blood-moon. There were a hell of a lot more applications for drone automation than he realized, and he wasn’t intent on putting all of that on Tracy.
The engineer sighed and rubbed his forehead, grabbing for another blue-leaf on the nearby bullet casing-covered table. The finger-width frond was something he’d been enjoying since the foraging Malkrin started to bring them back. They tasted like the fragrance of jasmine. Simply chewing it and letting the small particles of plant matter mix with saliva created a sort of tea in his mouth. He saw Cera using it alongside the whole ‘females using a stick to sharpen their teeth’ thing, so he asked and was generously given a bunch.
The blue-leaf jutted from his mouth like those depictions of Old-Earth farmers chewing the stems of wheat, slowly being gnawed until its tip as the night went on. He eyed Sharky and the ceramist standing at their post nearby, the two of them staying as alert as possible despite it being later than they would usually go to sleep… Maybe it wasn’t best to test gunpowder late at night with unsuppressed fire while the others were sleeping. A tinge of embarrassment and regret nipped at the back of his head.
It was worth it, though. Their ranged capabilities would benefit immensely from the gunpowder, most likely ensuring their survival to come… if it weren’t some small issues. It was a shame the Malkrin had such difficulties with the weapons. Not enough to make them unusable, but enough to cause annoyance with general handling. The guns were practically compact submachine guns to the giant females. Cera and Akula had a hard time reloading with their big ‘ol talons, especially for the mag-release paddles by the trigger. Not to mention the process of actually packing ammo back in the empty magazines… Furthermore, there was irritation with trying to keep the firearm in a suitable place while they worked. Slings swung around too much, and pack attachments poked their lower arms and back. Of course, none of them voiced their opinions on it. He simply noticed all the ways they squirmed when the gun swung out and poked them in the side, or how they fumbled with them while reloading.
Honestly, at this point he might just consider designing a whole new weapon system if the most basic aspects of kinetics were a bother. Something more ergonomic for them to use and store… probably with a bigger bullet that’s easier for them to handle. He’d figure it out later, after he managed to finish helping Tracy build the automated mule.
“Shar! Cera! C’mere!” he called out, his voice somewhat muffled by the frond stuck between his teeth.
The two females perked up, quickly making their way back to his ramshackle firing point. The paladin clipped her M2 onto her back as she trotted up to his side.
“Are we fin—hed for the even—g?” the maroon-colored Malkrin questioned, looking rather tired.
He packed the can of ammunition up, slapping its cover closed. “Just about. I’ve still gotta test the fifty-cal ammo for your browning, but that’s for us to deal with tomorrow.”
“Of course. Will y–u be requiring this firearm for the durat—n?”
“Luckily for you, I won’t.” He pointed a thumb in the direction of the workshop. “I’ve got another being printed right now.”
The paladin squinted. “Anot—r? For whom?”
Cera flipped through the notebook she used for communication, scribbling on it for a mere second before turning it around for the other two to see. It showed a crude outline of the turret they used during the last blood moon… How’d she know?
“I’m guessing Tracy filled you in, huh?” The technician and the ceramist were pretty close, especially whenever Tracy went to help her with drawing. He slid a few FAL magazines into a small pseudomycelium bag, glancing up at Shar. “We’re planning on putting two or three active turrets up around the modules and possibly around the beach and sphalerite cave—depending on resources, of course.”
A grin spread across Shar’s muzzle, her tail swaying. “So we sh—l be furthering our fortificat—ns? It is wise we act early before the bl—d-moon.”
The engineer continued to pack the range items away with the ceramist's assistance. “Yeah, only about ten days or so until then. We have to make the best of it. But that’s not the only reason; I’m planning on setting out sometime ‘fore the blood-moon to retrieve some data from a module further out. This time, it’ll be a longer expedition; ‘Smore than a day’s walk. We’ll be needing more than just the two of us to keep watch overnight. So yeah, we’ll need to keep home base safe while we’re out.”
She leaned forward, an inspired glint in her eye. “I underst—d. Will there be anyth—g I can do to assist the p—paration process?”
“Nothin’ specific.” He smirked, patting her on her oversized forearm for a moment. “‘Cept training and lifting stuff like you do anyway. Definitely gonna need yer strength for hauling turret materials around. Even more for the bullshit we’ll probably have to go through on the journey.”
Her restrained smile turning into something different than the grin she wore before. “I-I am at your c—mand, Harrison. I give my labor to y–u freely.”
Harrison caught Cera idly watching their conversation, a curious look gathering on her face as she observed him. He soon noticed his palm was resting atop shar’s wrist, his hand in a much different place than he last remembered leaving it. He awkwardly coughed and removed it, returning his attention to the mass of equipment he packed up. “Right, uh… Again, that’s all for the day. Cera, you’re free to check out if you want.”
The addressed female raised a brow, still eying up him and the paladin before wiping the look off her face and smiling. She bowed and gave a short wave, leaving him and Sharky to stand underneath the outdoor floodlights while Cera slunk back to the barracks. He looked back up at the tall female beside him, giving her a knowing look.
“You can head off too if you want. I know you’ll be sleeping anyway if we head back into the workshop.”
She stood up straight, an adorable mix of furrowed brows and a pout resembling offense forming on her visage. “I w—ld not fall asl…” The flushed paladin paused, clearly realizing her inaccuracy, causing Harrison’s smile to grow all the wider. She huffed and quietly continued with her excuses. “I can not leave you to the night by y—rself. What if sculking b—sts enter the castle? I should not dare to l—ve your side.”
He stared at her with lighthearted contempt. “C’mon, Shar. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in a comfortable bed than a metal desk? I’m gonna be helping Trace with her drones for a long while too.”
“I would prefer noth—g more than to be within arm’s r—ch of you,” she insisted. Her orange irises burned as her tail found its way around him. “Even still, the other star-s—t has left for the other castle alr—dy.”
He raised a brow, the cool skin of her limb rubbing against his palm. “Wait, Tracy left already? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“F—give me, I was busy patrolling the settlem—t. She offered a short wave to me as she left.”
If the technician was gone already and wasn’t in the workshop in the first place to need his help… why did he even need to be in there? She noticed his realization, leaning in closer. Her eyes glanced away nervously for a short moment as she appeared lost in thought before being wrangled back to match his gaze.
“Then, if there is noth—g else for you to complete with the machines, might I sugg—t a compromise to the is—e at hand?”
He raised a brow curiously.
Short clacks of the talons tapping together filled the air. “W-Well, If y–u were to join my slumber, It would satisfy your wish as w—l as my own. I will not fall asl—p atop the desk and you shall be within my p—tection. I-It would be best for your sl—p if I were there, no?
He gave her an incredulous look, the corners of his cheeks breached by a small smile. It wasn’t a great ‘compromise’ for him, but it wasn’t like he had any place to argue against it, really. He wasn’t that tired, yet there was fuck all to do in the workshop until tomorrow… so… “If it’ll get you to sleep, then fine.”
Her eyes lit up in surprise. She clearly wasn’t expecting him to go without debate. “Y-You… Yes, of c—rse. The offer was intended for both our be—fits…” The paladin gestured toward the other module with a wide arm, her thin confidence barely hiding her vibrating frills. “Sh—l… we…?”
He nodded, letting her tail rest on his shoulder like a scarf as he turned around, nudging her to follow. They strolled through the soft grass and night breeze, eased by the thought of a comfortable bed and sound sleep.
\= = = = =
A consistent click came from Kegara’s talon tapping rhythmically against her shield, the piercing sound mirroring the force of her scalding breaths. The tent was bathed in the flickering hue of flame from a centralized fire, yet the warmth bled from everywhere she looked, which was primarily the current target of her displeasure. When their excursion team returned, the Grand Paladin thought them to come back with results or news, yet they brought only an infuriating pitiful recount of a spineless worm.
Every exhale was riddled with the white-skinned female’s ire as she paced around the trembling, pink-skinned female that stood inside the Grand Paladin’s tent. The fisherwoman’s shaking breaths could barely be heard beneath the sizzling of Kegara’s unfinished meal. She had lost her appetite, and the contents she had been looking forward to were now tainted by the taste of ineptitude. A burnt smell permeated throughout the room. A waste, but no more of a waste than the pathetic trash currently fouling her tent.
The failure’s back was straight, her head was kept level, and her tail was as still as the mountain towering above the camp outside, yet nothing but inadequacy was visible.
The Grand Paladin stopped her pacing in front of the messenger, covering her burning vexation with cold, quiet intent and an edged stare. The fisherwoman swallowed heavily. “Were you at least capable of finding their sea vessel, incompetent one?”
“W-We did, Grand Paladin,” the pitiful excuse for a Malkrin quickly returned, fear and guilt bleeding through her voice. A sense of hope entered those dull eyes as they tried to salvage what was already lost. “There were footsteps we followed along the beach, b-but they were cut off abruptly by the tracks of abhorrent!”
Kegara took another step forward, brows furrowing as she bore her gaze ever deeper into the scum that stood before her, the head-height difference in stature between them further emblazening the glare. Her words grew more heated with every question, each syllable teeming with threats. “Then they perished? Was there blood? Signs of a battle?”
The pink-skinned female struggled to keep herself straight, trembling down to the talons. “T-There was no sign of s-such.”
“And you did not pursue them?” A simple question, and one spoke through a frigid, flat tone. Dignified and controlled, yet making no effort to hide the malice underneath. Her digits twitched, barely restrained.
“N-No, we f-feared the abhor—”
The fisherwoman’s speech was cut short with a choke and a flicker of movement from the white-skinned paladin. A singular hand wrung the failure’s throat and lifted the veritable waste, her grip tight enough to cull the fouled intent before it could spit more worthless drivel. Kegara’s frills shook with her burning projection. “You failed because you were *scared? Fourteen females were **frightened of footprints? You insolent failure! Your heathenous brothers and sisters are left to the whims of the mainland because of your fear! Left to be mauled and eaten alive by the abhorrent!”*
“W-We could not have—”
“SILENCE,” she commanded sharply, her voice a blade that tore through the fisherwoman’s denial. She snarled, feeling the very heartbeat within the fragile neck as her grip tightened. Shameful vocalizations and strained breaths failed to bring air to the pathetic one’s lungs. It would be quicker to silence the fool permanently, and Kegara’s pride demanded it be done. Every move within the paladin’s talons threatened to rend the very flesh beneath them, yet her claws must be stayed, for allowing blood to spill would be an equally foolish mistake. The fisherwoman was lucky; menial labor was a strained resource. Such a failure of a banished fool would be culled on the spot otherwise.
The pink-skinned female was thrown to the ground, dirt being tossed into the air as she skid to a stop. She hacked and coughed on her back, her ragged gasps irritatingly scraping the high one’s ears. Kegara’s slow exhalations poured through clenched teeth as she controlled herself. Perfection required persistence. If she wished to send the group back out for their incompetence, then she would need them to live long enough to do so. To ensure the new banished were found and brought back. To prove themselves worth her kindness.
But were there banished left to collect? The latest group was most likely reduced to bones for the repulsive creatures to gnaw on by now, and it would be but a waste of Malkrin to frivolously send more out. It was a situation wrought from mistakes and inadequacy, searing her flesh with its reflection onto her, painting her image with its wretched color. The vexation burned her from the inside as she resisted the urge to stain her tent with the failure’s red. This was much greater a failure than the fisherwoman could understand, but at least a large catch of meat had been procured. This was still a salvageable outcome.
“Bring half the food to the cooks,” the grand paladin relented with a simmering hiss, glaring down at the coughing lump of shame. “Leave the rest by the cave as always. Do not fail me with such a simple task, or you will prove my benevolence to be a mistake.”
“Of… c-course.” The fisherwoman shakily nodded before shuffling away, all but fleeing the tent to complete her duties. The failure was gone, but her stench persisted.
Kegara spat on the ground, no longer wishing to return to her meal, as disgusting as it had become. The searing exasperation that gnawed at her chest slowly fell away, leaving only the frigid caress of mortification on her frills. The lack of success would carry with it great consequences, and those would carry more in an ever-growing rockslide of punishment.
Would it impact her mission? What would happen if her settlement was incapable of providing logistics for the excavation? Would they no longer return with the relics? How would the Grand Script-keeper react? What of the high priestesses? The Grand Paladin was no fool; she knew where their disdain would lie, should she prove to be as pathetic as that fisherwoman. The blame could not be siphoned off into the tainted peasantry beneath her command. It would be put on her and her alone. She would face judgment without reprieve.
The white-skinned Makrin let out a shaky breath, steeling herself away from the agonizing worries. The solution was as clear as her faith, and just as certain. She would not allow such a mistake to occur again. More capable laborers would be sent next time, paladins without such weaknesses as fear, and success would be enforced.
According to the report, the next island that the inquisitors were approaching was one with a larger population, numbering in the thousands. It was assured that they would find many more of the blighted Malkrin to be exiled, and the traitorous filth would find their labor funneling directly to the mainland. She could perform her duties properly once she had the subordinates to do so.
Those higher on the mountain would see her accomplishments then. Surely.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Space Marines Malkrin

moved to a smaller city in the pnw three yrs ago, nicer neighborhood, less than 30 houses in the community.
anyhow myself and wife were and are super outgoing with neighbors directly across and on the sides of our home, really to see what kind of people they are. you never know when they will have your back or vice versa. or could be complete weirdos.
queue the boomer; i have two across the street. we’ll call this particular boomer W because she is a woman.
i leave on a work trip, wife is WFH, anyhow we decide to leave our yard waste bin out in our driveway (off to the side, plenty of space, 3 car garage driveway) for four days. i return home on friday, trash day.
i had just got home from said traveling, super tired, so i am outside having a smoke just decompressing and the W boomer walks over to my side on the sidewalk and says “i am not sure if you have lived in a neighborhood like this before, but you cannot leave your yard waste bin out front like that”.
i was about to go the fuck off but i decided to just stare a hole right through her, not really as much for attempting to play enforcer, but for the comment assuming i have never lived in a “neighborhood like this before” comment.
in reality i had sold my last home 5mi away in a much larger neighborhood and slightly bigger house for a decent profit.
she finally stopped talking, i kept staring her down before she finally said “well?” in which i respond without blinking “well what?”.
since this interaction about two years ago, not only myself and my wife have labeled her as the neighborhood bitch, the other neighbors have candidly told us the same.
following this, i decided to be petty as much as possible. W lives alone, so during nice days we bbq, so we always pass plates to neighbors. always did this, always will. except for her, i will go out of my way to give neighbors around us plates, not her but ill make sure to do it right in front of her while she is outside.
shes old and alone, but also managed to piss off her landscape guy (dude is actually super cool, he does our yard and thinks W is a bitch as well) so W goes out and trys to DIY it, like raking leaves—i’ll purposely go out with my cordless leaf blower and clean my yard in minutes. W is out there for hours getting fuckall done.
anyway, W and us are on decent terms now. we just know what type of bitch she is. yard guy also still hates W. he still does our yard, doesn’t do hers because she complains about every single thing, she still doesn’t get plates passed.
boomers need to mind their fucking business not everyone elses.

Hello darling,
I fell off the merry-go-round and now I'm waiting for the world to stop spinning. Everything is the same... and yet everything changed.
From the way we met to the way things ended so far, I know none of this could ever possibly be a coincidence. Everything is new. Everything is insane. Everything makes sense. Nothing makes any sense. But it does, you know? Just how would something like this happen on random? It's not statistically or scientifically possible. And I don't believe in coincidences anyway. It has a reason. It has a purpose. It's absurd. I love absurd. Just like when I said "Goodbye" and thought I might just die or at the very least have a mental breakdown. And then I opened Reddit just to take a look at whether you blocked me and the first thing that popped up was a recommended subreddit I've never visited before, on the account where I don't follow spiritual subreddits. This community was there against all odds. It was there for me to find comfort in. Or sanity. Or answers? Or peace perhaps, closure. But I don't need closure, I KNOW it's not over. Call me crazy if you have to.
It couldn't be random. It's too absurd. And I love absurd. Just like you messaging me under unlikely circumstances, two weeks after I asked the universe to send me the love of my life because I'm done waiting. It told me: "If you're ready, I'll make it happen. But they aren't ready." And I said: "I still want it. I will wait for them to be ready." I had a whole list of things I want in my special person. I made it absurd, because why the hell not - the world is absurd, my life is absurd. And then I experienced that weird unplanned meditation or more so hallucination or whatever that was. And two weeks later there you were in my PM inbox. I didn't put the two things together at first, you could think I'm stupid, but don't forget I was severely depressed. In denial too. And you were weirdly persistent. You were just keeping the conversation going. Even though you normally don't do that, do you? But you did. And I started getting to know you. And there was something off. Something too good to be true. A lot of chemistry. And I was opening up despite promising myself I won't do that on a throwaway account. But there was something about you that made me. And then it clicked. Oh my! You ARE the perfect personification of the list I made. To an eerie detail, what the actual... what? There were things too specific to be a coincidence, I swear. Including my request to the universe that the perfect person has to contact me and catch my attention, because I don't want to chase things before I even know they're worth it. But you were so very worth it. And catch my attention you did. More than that. You made me obsessed.
And I forgot what I promised to you in the meditation, when I met my soulmate and I promised I'll wait until you're ready. I forgot about it. I just wanted you to fall for me like I started falling for you, so early. Within days of our conversation. I didn't want to lose you. I wasn't thinking straight. I made a mistake. I was pushing too hard. I was selfish. And I think I lied when I said I was ready. I wasn't. My insecurities were taking over. And then you did that weird odd thing, completely out of character. You hurt me and it felt like it wasn't even you, like it's a stranger writing that. And then I said it's enough. Because I found my boundaries in the recent years and you overstepped them. Well you were pretty much walking all over them, but then I've had enough. And so if it was you, in the meditation, if you are the soulmate twin flame or what have you, then you broke your promise, that you won't ever leave me and that you will be there for me when I need you. And you can't be responsible for what I think your higher self promised me in my meditation, that would be nuts. And I don't know, it might be that you are in a denial, I think you're not intentionally on any spiritual journey, I think you're out of touch with your higher self. Or maybe you are in touch of higher self, what do I know? Maybe you were also afraid to tell me about this part of yourself. Or maybe everything is just the way it's supposed to be. You weren't ready - the universe told me, your higher self told me and I persisted and asked for things to move anyway. We made a real life connection and now it will be easier to meet again, at the right time. Or maybe you didn't really leave me. Maybe you're still thinking about me and that's enough. I thought I needed you, but maybe I don't. You showed me just what power I'm carrying in my mind and soul and maybe that's all I needed, wanting you to stay might be just a selfish thought. Or... or... maybe you're the fake twin flame. Maybe it wasn't you in the spiritual awakening. Maybe you came to my life to make the big impact, to turn it around, to kickstart my metamorphosis. Maybe I was pushing on you because I wanted it to be it. And I ruined it, whatever it was. I'm so grateful for you either way. You are my secret treasure. That's what you called me after you had a few beers.
I've never fallen for anyone as hard as I did for you. You are special to me in all aspects. Everything was just so different, I'm going to split my life into "before you" and "after you". And the craziest thing is that it all took place within just a few weeks. After I said "Goodbye" I should have had that mental breakdown. It would put you in the box with all the other people who hurt me, it would make you less unique to me. Less special. But I found myself going through all of the grieving stages within a few hours. And then... I was just sitting there. I started laughing. I felt happy. Fullfilled. Freaking blessed. Grateful. Healed. Gifted. Loved. At the moment, call me crazy if you have to, I felt like things aren't over. There wasn't a place for breakdown, because things aren't over. Things are only just starting for me, I know it. And I can feel you in the future, soulmates or not, we'll meet again.
It felt like you got scared of feeling things for someone so different from your usual type. Someone you've never even met or even as much as seen a photo of. I couldn't be sure whether you ever really started feeling the noble feelings for me, the shades of love. It's not like you would tell me since you wouldn't even admit it to yourself. But it's not relevant anyway. I know it was just my words that made you feel feelings you didn't feel before and that's all I need to know. You got scared. You panicked. I think it might be a self-saboutage. Or not. Or that thought is absurd. But you know... I love absurd. It helps me sleep at night.
The very same day I said "Goodbye" I sat down and started writing you a letter. Not this one. A 10 page letter. A 10 page roller coaster, a report from the merry-go-round, the whole fair we experienced in fact. I wrote it within 3 days. I thought of posting it on Unsent Letters, but it's too personal. So personal in fact, that I wouldn't let anyone read it, not even you. It's for your higher self. And I think I read it so many times after myself, that your higher self got the message. Twin flames or not.
And let me tell you: I was getting tons of signs since I got the first message from you. The insane amount of angel numbers, the two four leaf clovers, the jay's feather, the lyrics of songs, the feelings in my guts, the physical sensations, the storm I manifested, the inner conversations and so many bands from around the world I was listening to, having concerts in your hometown. And the signs didn't stop after I said "Goodbye". And I wanted to feel lovesick to get it over with, but I can't make myself feel it, you know? I just feel in peace. Happy. I feel motivated. I feel like I should focus on myself know. And I still feel you in my heart and mind as if you never left. I am hurt, don't get me wrong, but it's just a small insignificant thing somewhere in the corner of my mind. Like when you wake up from a nightmare and feel relieved and your day starts surprisingly well and you feel great, but you still have that nightmare hangover in the back of your mind. Unimportant, but present.
And you know what? I'm going to post this on a different account than the one you know, but I'm almost sure that if you read this, you'd recognize me, despite the fact that I tried leaving out details or things too obvious and specific for us to give it away easily. I know that if this post just randomly showed on your front page, you'd know it's me. Or you'd suspect it to be me at the very least. And you'd think I'm insane. You'd have to call me crazy. And that's fine, honestly. Because it is insane, I'm confused and sceptical too, you know. I'm also scared. Just like you were, I think. But I can't help myself.
You never stuck around long enough to learn I'm into spiritual things like this. It would be surprising to you, I'm sure. But it is who I am, it's part of me I was hesitant to reveal to you, because I was insecure about my own identity. But now I have all this time that I can use to better myself, improve myself, stabilize myself. And so call me crazy if you have to, I'm not opposed, but I know it's not over for us. Fake Twin Flames or Real ones. Soulmates or not. I know we'll meet again eventually, in the same absurd way as this whole merry-go-round of an experience. And darling, you know I love absurd. And I may fall off the merry-go-round, but I don't fall out of love. And I don't even care if we'll ever meet again or if we were twin flames or soulmates. Or whether you were a psycho, playing with me the whole time, maybe I'm delusional, maybe I really misinterpreted everything. Maybe I'm insane, but I don't care. You gave me my life back, I will forever be grateful for you. You imprinted on my soul, left a bloody handprint in the empty, damaged, deserted cave that was my life. And I want you to be happy. And as long as we are both happy, what does it matter whether I'm insane and believe all these things? I just wish I gave you something as important in exchange.
And I will love you forever, whether we'll meet again or not. Whether we're soulmates or Twin Flames or just random strangers who met on the internet under odd circumstances. I'll love you forever even if I dated someone or even if I found my true love, if it wasn't you. I'll love you forever even if that was the only thing I could give you. I promise.
Thank you. Yours, -M.

My (39F) partner (39M) has a tendency to toot his own horn when there's an occasion. That's fine with me, he's rightfully proud of his achievements, of getting stuff done and working towards a better future for both of us.
But in the last few weeks and months, more than ever, this has developed a flipside. He never was good at acknowledging my achievements and inputs. For example, I had shown him the ropes when he joined our project at work and I don't think I've ever heard anything about that. But now, it's as if nothing I do is of any value and is genuinely forgotten. Even if I obviously joke around, like "I planted so many four leaf clovers, and look how lucky we got!" he gets serious and says no, it's because he did xyz. (Even if I did the same and just didn't get lucky. He doesn't believe in luck, he thinks it's all personality). Or like this: I found the apartment we're gunning for through talking with my father while physically being there and reading the physical signs on the construction and going to the project's website. But he claims he's the one who found the apartment, through a website where they aren't even listed.
He also did not want to visit any of the alternative apartments I picked, he simply didn't show up/didn't schedule it.
I feel as if I'm rapidly losing any merit in his eyes and something in him is trying to write anything good from me out of his memory. What can cause that and what can I do against it in these moments? I feel silly and like a braggard if I argue against it and I don't want to diminish him either. Just not... Count as nothing.
I wonder if my pregnancy has anything to do with it. For a few weeks, I was in a really bad shape and still have trouble eating and drinking enough. I probably look like a weakling who cannot do anything, but that doesn't extend to the past nor is it that bad anymore.

Luck does affect this drop chance. The base chance is 1/4000. How many 57 leaf clovers do I need to make that reasonable.

If so, I'd love to hear it! If not, I have enough topics to pull out of a metaphorical hat to fill the conversation with, nonetheless!
Topic examples below: - Lore about the Irish and British Isles, specifically relating to the Book of Invasions - Philosophical discussion (this is a broad topic, but I personally love the theory relating to time and societies perspective of such as well as discussing Plato and Diogenes' Hero/Villain relationship - did anyone say enemies to lovers trope in the making?) - Recipes and why finding them is so hard (why must I be my own zookeeper everyday, eating three meals in 16 hours is simply torturous) - Anything related to art, both admiration for such and creating it - I'll take "Complaints About Capitalism for 500 points, Alex"
Obligatory information about the person you're messaging below: - In the Midwestern US, timezone of CDT - Searching for a long term conversation buddy - Overuses punctuation while also typing horrendous amounts of run on sentences - Does not drink or smoke
Requirements for you: - LGBTQAI+ affirming - Doesn't mind my misspelling/mistyping/incoherent-at-times rambles
Bonus points if you can find four leaf clovers in a field. This is a skill that I consider of the highest level.

Yesterday I said goodbye to my girlfriend of 1.5 years at the airport. I had a long distance relationship with her, she came to visit me. We have had a pretty toxic relationship, she was really controlling and jealous as well as explosive. I learned from her pretty quickly it was because she had BPD. The relationship had push/pull but escalated to a really bad place. I recently admitted to her that in different times I had a crush on my roommate but I had never had an emotional affair or cheated physically because in my head as long as there was no action to it, i wouldn't be betraying her. But I wasn't transparent with her about it until lately. The already abusive relationship escalated to a really bad place. She had said to me that she could forgive everything, but I wasn't sure I was able to continue because I didn't know if I had it in me to turn over a new leaf and process my grief and depression (my father, grandmother, and uncle died within six months). She was upset when I said I didn't know if I could continue the relationship at this time because I couldn't deal with the toxicity of it and work on my own issues at the same time right now. She left the apartment and disappeared for 8 hours, turning off her location. I knew then and there that she was at a bar getting drunk; she is a recovering addict and has been sober for a year. After she came home, she was aggressive towards me and at one point yanked me by my hair. The next day when we talked, she cried about how she had hurt me. Days later, I can talked to her about how I was poly (she has known this since we started dating). I told her that even through things have been toxic and controlling, one of the other issues for us was that I am poly and I don't know that I can do Monogamy forever; I don't know what I want in three years. she called me sadistic and perverted. She proceeded to leave the apartment that night at 10pm and went on a drunken cocaine binge. I reached out to friends of her at 3 in the morning, and I went out looking for her in bars because I was worried about her safety. She came home at 7 in the morning and hit me four times. The events that happened after that were so painful. I ended up getting a hotel for her and she asked me to stay with her because she didn't want to be alone for the next days. On the 2nd day, I asked her if she had relapsed with cocaine any other time in our relationship and she started to raise her voice. I got really scared and shaky, I think I am traumatized. I got up from the bed and told her that she was scaring me. She got upset. Saying to me if I am so scared, I don't need to be there, that she is not a monster, that I train martial arts so it is bullshit that I am scared. She started to put her clothes on and I sat by the door silently because even though i was scared I didn't want her to leave and go on another binge. After a few hours I left, and when I left i got so upset thinking back to how much she gaslight me, that she was trying to say to me that she would work through her shit that led to her beating me, but couldn't even face seeing me scared. In all of this, it was about her feelings, never once did she ask what I needed, how I was feeling, even though she had beaten me. And she put it on me that it was my responsibility to take care of her. Later her friend reached out and begged me to check on her and said to me that it was my fault. That I hurt her too so it was my fault. I know moving in with my roommate was wrong, and that was my greatest fault. But it feels crazy to me that they want to equate that to her beating me and emotionally abusing me. I got her a hotel for three nights, took care of her after she beat me, and somehow her friend wants to say that I am the fucked up one? I went to check on her and she proceeded to blame me for her relapsing and saying that getting her a hotel was the least i could do. I left again. Then at 3 in the morning she asked me to come back to talk calmly. I sat there and listened to her drunk talk to me for 40 minutes and i just couldn't take it. Since she has hit me, she has tried to change the narrative saying I beat her. She has told her mom and friends that I was aggressive with her. I have never once put my finger on her. I ended up leaving, saying to her that I wanted to talk when she was sober. She didn't take that well and chased me down the street with a camera trying to say to me that I abused her. She went on a crazy coke binge after that. I texted her a closure message saying that I love her and am sad that things escalated this far. Sorry for my mistake of moving in with my roommate and despite everything I wish her the best. She proceeded to rage text me terrible things for the next 3 hours, blaming me for her relapse and putting a strange man in her room. I asked her for her therapists number to try to get in contact, but she wouldn't give it to me. I blocked her after that, later she reached out to my sister to talk to me again before she went to the airport. I went to say goodbye, in this she listened to what I had to say and begged for it not to be over. I told her I love you but I can't get back together with you after everything. She couldn't accept and was texting me things, but once she saw I wasn't changing my mind she blocked me. Today she unblocked me to rage text me that I have to tell her mother she didn't do coke and it is my fault that her mom knows and that she may not have a place to live because of me. I blocked her everywhere after that.
This whole thing is so traumatizing. I look back on the 1.5 years and realize how much I have been emotionally abused and take advantage of. I know I am not perfect, but I guess I am just looking for advice on how to heal from all this trauma and go forward in my life. I am still in shock over how everything ended.

🍀Four Leaf Clover Jelly kun🍀
Would you like a four leaf clover that brings good luck? •^•
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2024/06/02 10:00 a.m (GMT+9)
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Gaia, god of Earth vs God Lord! Fight!
Gaia uses Earth Strike! 400 damage!
God Lord uses Multiverse Eye! Plus 80 defence for God Lord!
Gaia uses Four Leaf Clover! Critical Hit chance quintupled!
God Lord uses God Laser! 550 damage!
Gaia uses Titan Blast! CRITICAL HIT, 300 damage is now 900 damage!
God Lord is now TITAN LORD!
TITAN LORD uses Star Storm!
Gaia defends using Vine Grasp!
Gaia uses Poison Flower! 100 damage!
TITAN LORD is now ULTRA LORD!
ULTRA LORD uses Last Hope! 2500 damage!
Gaia is now SHINY GAIA!
SHINY GAIA uses Eradicate! 800 damage!
SHINY GAIA uses infinity! 999999999 damage!
SHINY GAIA WINS!

If so, I'd love to hear it! If not, I have enough topics to pull out of a metaphorical hat to fill the conversation with, nonetheless!
Topic examples below: - Lore about the Irish and British Isles, specifically relating to the Book of Invasions - Philosophical discussion (this is a broad topic, but I personally love the theory relating to time and societies perspective of such as well as discussing Plato and Diogenes' Hero/Villain relationship - did anyone say enemies to lovers trope in the making?) - Recipes and why finding them is so hard (why must I be my own zookeeper everyday, eating three meals in 16 hours is simply torturous) - Anything related to art, both admiration for such and creating it - I'll take "Complaints About Capitalism for 500 points, Alex"
Obligatory information about the person you're messaging below: - In the Midwestern US, timezone of CDT - Searching for a long term conversation buddy - Overuses punctuation while also typing horrendous amounts of run on sentences - Does not drink or smoke
Requirements for you: - LGBTQAI+ affirming - Doesn't mind my misspelling/mistyping/incoherent-at-times rambles
Bonus points if you can find four leaf clovers in a field. This is a skill that I consider of the highest level.

A New Dawn
A little bit about the book: There are 4 different protags, named Swanpaw/branch of LightningClan, Pebblepaw/fur of FoxClan, Frostpaw/leaf of StreamClan, and Lilypaw/fang of OwlClan. It starts out with all the protags being apprentices, each in a different Clan. They eventually meet at a Gathering, and sparks fly between Frostpaw and Lilypaw... anyway, the night after the Gathering, Swanpaw has a strange dream, telling him that "Four will come together and destroy the shadows".
Note: I am still currently writing the book, so it isn't finished! There are also links to the allegiances and some backstory to one of the parents of the protags! I have finished Grasswing's Grief, I'm almost finished with Runningriver's Omen, and need to continue Yarrowstream's Mistake! I haven't started Quickleap's Promise though.
Update: Sorry I didn't including before, but each Clan has a separate healer and guide. The healer's job is to heal cats and organize herbs, and a guide's job is to talk to StarClan and give advice to the Clan. Swanpaw is a LightningClan healer apprentice.
Update #2: So I added a new Clan called RowanClan, they live in a abandoned Twolegplace, and the founders were cats that were kicked out of the Clans after conspiring to kill their leaders and gain power.

I was wondering if this was a common thing in CPTSD, to feel an intense sense of guilt when other people trust/are otherwise nice to you because you feel like you don't deserve it. I've struggled with this for as long as I can remember.
There's a couple examples that really stick out to me. One time was when a vending machine ate my money, and when ai explaine the situation an employee immediately went and opened the machine and got me the snack. Young me was just like... you trust me just like that? I felt like I was scamming him. I knew I wasn't, but I could have been, so I felt guilty like I did.
Another time, just a few days ago, I was walking along the sidewalk looking for four-leaf clovers in the clover patches on the curb lawn. The guy whose house the sidewalk was in front of came out and, very politely, asked what I was doing. I'd been screamed at by the crazy lady further down the street for being oN hEr PrOpErTy, so I braced myself for a verbal assault as I explained and offered him a four-leaf clover I'd already found. He was super nice about it and hojestly kind of thrilled that his curb lawn was offering something like that and told me I was welcome to search it anytime. Instead of just feeling grateful, I felt this intense pang of guilt, like I didn't deserve that. It got so bad that once he went inside I pretty much immediately left to find another clover patch.
There are also times when instead of guilt, I just feel nothing. One time recently, my crush said I was a good person, and I had to pretend to be grateful and happy about it because I genuinely felt absolutely nothing.
The more I think about it the more I wonder if these responses are normal or a part of my CPTSD. My therapist thinks it's from the emotional neglect & constant invalidation my parents afflicted on me growing up. Does anyone else deal with this or have any insight?

Skirt

• Gothicutie skirt
• Dear dollie skirt
• Sleigh it skirt x2
• Midnigt strike popstar skirt
• Ballroom entrance
• Royal stroll in the garden
• Sprakly paty tutu
• Miniskirt x2
• Real mermaid x2

Shoes

• Cookie loafers (SOLD)
• Starfrost skates (SOLD)
• Huggly snuggly booties
• Glittering jelly platforms
• Carol of the elves booties

Bodice

• Dear dollie bodice
• Sf bodice
• Cb bodice

Sleeves

• Sf sleeves
• Se sleeves
• Sl warmers
• Over the rainbow sleeves

More items

• Sf veil
• Dear dollie gloves
• SS hat
• Dv puppy ears
• Easter egg top hat
• Bunny bonnet headband
• Bouquet of clovers
• Elf helper hat
• Lucky bow pin
• Spinning web boppers
• Don't pick me please
• Trip to the market hat
• Soft plush antlers
• Christmas celebration headband
• Four leaf clover ears
• Lucky headband
• Supernatural hoop earrings
• Bat earrings
• Bat tophat
• Baby star bear
• Floppy ears
• Christmas window shopping top hat
• Ghost head
• Pegeant diamond earrings
• Personal snow flurry
• Heiress tea party bow
• Mix matched striped socks
• Sweet bunny hair bows
• Nomnom frosted donut waist floatie
• Arachnofabulous
• Hip bag of coins
• Captain's hat
• Teacup tupil hat x2
• Polar cutie bear hat
• Woodland faun ears and antlers x2
• Strawberry picking basket
• Nine-tails
• Sweet bunny shoulder bag

Looking for:

• Magical enchantress
• Callmehbob ring
• Og parasol 2019

Hi! I’m wondering if anyone has any experience with mixing Bourkes and Budgies together. I had two sets of mated Budgies but one of my girls lost her fight against a tumor and my quartet turned to a trio. His mate didn’t take it well and he ended up with an unhealthy obsession with the bird in the mirror. I’ve since removed all things reflective and left him a spinning leaf toy in the cage to give him something to do. He occasionally gets a little too close to my last girl but gets pushed back by her with a normal peck. Him and his brother have gotten into a fight once where they both ended up at the bottom of the cage (I’m not sure how it happened or started) and I removed my lonely guy to a smaller cage for a few weeks. I’ve since moved them all back together and had no further incidents with them. I’ve decided to get another bird to try to introduce to him as a new potential partner to help keep him company when they’re alone and am wondering if I’m limited to just Budgies. The four I had spent time with two separate Cockatiels on plenty of occasions and they got along fine together but that’s the only experience they’ve had with other birds. I like the idea of adding a similar sized bird that’s different and really only came up with a Bourkes. I know it would be a process and I’m willing to commit to it but I’d like to know if it’s something that’s been done before. I’d expect the process to be to put the Bourkes in a separate cage near the other to introduce the four, then I’d put my boy in another cage closer to the Bourkes and eventually get the two in a cage together then put the two cages side by side and reintroduce the the mixed pair and the others. Also before anyone brings it up, I am not looking to actually mate them for offspring. I am looking for the possibility of a partner for companionship so he isn’t third wheeling
TLDR: Can I cage a Bourkes with 3 Budgies, two of which form a mated pair and the other a relatively new widow