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Memory Transcription Subject: Hileen, Krakotl Fugitive Recovery Agent
Date [standardized human time]: November 28th, 2136
It'd been a while since I sat in Marlig's office for a talk face-to-face. Given the agency's secluded location at the edge of the downtown region, it was a chore to drop by when it wasn't for business, but I'd deemed the matter at hand to be worth my time.
I passed by Nampi at her desk on my way to the door and she gave me a coy glare as I carried on. Trying to ignore her risible ear waggle, I turned the corner to the door with my boss’s name painted on the glass panel where I could hear the frantic crumpling of paper.
Quietly, I entered Marlig's office without prompt as I knew he hated to be spooked by knocking. My mentor was surprisingly spry for a bird at his age, sorting through papers with one wing and an eye while using his talons with the other to set away the papers he had splayed out.
“Hileen!” he chirped. “Glad you could make it in today. I was just finishing up my paperwork. Take a seat.”
It was always nice to hear him drop the professional motif for a more grandfatherly attitude when speaking in person. I did as he suggested and took a seat while he grumbled to himself over the sorting. My eye caught a few of the old contracts he was rifling through and saw that some dated back to his days as an agent.
Eventually, he left some sitting out as he sequestered the rest back into their files, sorted by a dichotomy that only he and Nampi could comprehend fully. He motioned with a wing for me to peruse and I turned the first one to face me to find it was my first contract, signed by me in a sloppy fashion. “This takes me back a couple of years.”
“Slick bastard thought he could get away on a forklift but you showed him! Certainly more exciting than my first day!”
“Mm-hmm. And it was when I nearly got impaled that you had the idea to commission all of us utility vests.”
He chuckled, “I really should’ve done so sooner. Cuts and scratches were already a risk, but a forklift was a new one!”
I flipped through the pages of each report, finding that Marlig's notes were filled with praises of my work. There were highs and lows, but I was flattered to find that the grizzled krakotl held my performance in such high regard.
“Flawless interception!” read one footnote about me catching a runner. “Couldn't have done it better myself!”
Marlig waited patiently as I browsed quickly through each page, realizing more and more how the notes also marked improvements in my work. How I found it easier to talk down a rowdy client, or apprehend them in the case that they were beyond helping on my part. Flowery language plastered most pages with him fawning over my work as a doting father would to his prodigal child.
The trend took a sharp turn as the notes became fewer and more critical the closer the dates reached to the present. I brushed the others aside with a wing to peruse the final paper. “And this…”
“Is Tac. Your latest contract. The most recent in a line of declining performance since the interview. This has become a pattern, Hileen, and its consequences are beginning to reach beyond yourself. Paji and Vesek resigned recently for personal reasons, which leaves us even less hands on deck than before. That's four people to cover the entire municipal region, and maybe even beyond, should needs arise. Three, if we include this little probation I have you on.”
“What was I supposed to do? Marlig, these ‘jobs’ you've got us working on overstep the contracts we were signed on with. Our job is to make sure people obey their court-mandated duties, not drag them off to the facilities ourselves!”
“... So the trip we took to the facilities did bother you.”
A sigh clicked in my throat as he reminded me. “Is that what happens to the people we take in, Marlig? Is that what would've happened to your wife?”
His feathers ruffled.
“That's what happens to those who are too dangerous to the general public to be left roaming free. Not everyone we deal with winds up there, but everyone can be subject to it. Miskela sued for her exoneration and proved in court that she was not diseased. I brought you there to show you how it helps the people, but I see now that it was a mistake. I understand why you were so perturbed, really, but it's how things have been for centuries. It's how we've protected ourselves from the dangers out there.”
“You were willing to let Barsul be interned there, too.”
Marlig flinched and sighed as he swept the papers towards himself once I'd signaled I was done. He turned one eye to me while he sorted them.
“There's no room for favoritism, girl. I negotiated for him to be allowed to walk free, and look where that got me. That boy - your neighbor - suffered the consequences of my nepotism. So too would the girl, had nobody intervened.”
“Like Richard.”
“The human, yes. Or you. Or the police. Where does this sudden obsession with humans come from, anyway? I get notifications of you talking about the acceptance of them all the time on forums.”
“Does it even need explaining?”
“Well, I guess not, no, but it's certainly an about-face from the way you used to talk about them with me beforehand.”
“People can change, for better or worse. Which one I fall under remains to be seen.”
Marlig stroked at the plumage on his neck as he finished his sorting. “I hope it's the former, for your sake. Was there any reason you came to talk, or were you just checking that I hadn't gone senile?”
“Well, I was hoping to borrow your secretary for the evening.”
He perked up while his eyes narrowed and he laced his fingers together with curiosity. “You… want to spend an evening with Nampi?”
“It's not what you're insinuating, but yes.”
“I was insinuating nothing,” he warbled coyly. “Go ahead and take her, and make sure to split the bill at dinner.”
“Pain-in-the-ass geezer. I'll keep in touch if your friend causes any more trouble.”
“Keep in touch regardless. Miskela and I get lonely in our old age,” he called back. “Take care.”
I stepped out into the hallway and turned toward the desk where I could hear the secretary's claws tapping furtively at her keyboard. Nampi sat silently with her ears and tail in a relaxed position that implied a bored demeanor. There was barely any response as I stood before her, waiting politely for her acknowledgment that never came.
Hesitantly, I cleared my throat.
An ear raised in acknowledgement, but her focus remained on the screen of her computer. “Mhm?”
“Do you…?”
Her ear rotated toward me, though she still maintained a passive attitude as she continued to glare mindlessly at the monitor.
“Are you free this evening?”
“Well, I'm quite booked, I believe. Why do you ask?”
I was surprised at her curt, dry tone. She hadn't spoken with me like this since we first got to know one another.
“Well,” I started. “I realized something. Every time we went out, whether it was clubbing, or dinner, or even walking around the parks, you always footed the bill. And so…”
Slowly, her other ear perked up and I saw her keystrokes slow down as she listened in.
“I wanted to return the favor?”
Her lips smacked as she opened her mouth, though paused before she spoke. “How could you possibly do that?”
“With a little gesture of friendship.”
Nampi's horizontal pupil turned up toward me and her tail twitched.
I continued, “So that belt you're wearing? It's the same belt you've worn since we first met. And I know you're the pragmatic type who'd never spend a credit more than she needs to, except for all the times you do"- her ears twitched in indignance -"I wanted to see about getting you a little something… extra?”
Her paws raised from the keyboard and she leaned in, resting her snout on her palms. “Go on.”
The bubbly venlil's tail sold out her collected facade as it twitched with anticipation. She was cornered and she didn't even know it yet.
“Well, I found just the place on the other side of town where we can start. It's a place almost as rich and indulgent as yourself.”
“The Platinum Paw? I mean3”
Her ears folded back in embarrassment as she cracked. She wasn't cut out for acting anyway.
“So that's what it's called! Jeez, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was called. Now what do you say? We go over there and find you something nice—”
I hadn’t even finished my thought before Nampi had grabbed her bag and was out the door, giving me a playful tail flick that said come and get me.

The place I suggested was in a shopping center on the opposite side of town, though easily accessible because of its proximity to the transport rails. Nampi had insisted on grabbing something to eat beforehand and so now gleefully bit into a bundle of stalks that had been “grilled” as explained from the food truck we'd stopped at.
Her tail flicked back and forth with her usual enthusiasm as we entered the massive complex of stores. The roofless plan allowed the natural, orange sun to flood the upper levels while artificial lighting illuminated the ground level wherever the light couldn't reach.
The place was built in the last decade by the previous City Magister in a bid for popularity, though ultimately for naught as he would lose the vote following a scandal involving an iftali priestess and a carved bar of soap. I had to say that despite being sick in the head, he sure had a great sense of decor.
Nampi snacked away, joining me in admiring the scenery as we continued to the place I’d planned out for us. Aimless chatter all melded together into a single, thrumming murmur as pedestrians navigated the many levels and stores offered in the place.
A troupe of children passed by us, held in a chain of tails and arms as they were escorted by a pair of venlil who I assumed were students and teachers on a school trip. I caught a whiff of a sweet, aromatic breeze and found it to come from a perfume shop on the same level as us; naturally, venlil were not to be found inside.
We passed a fountain where a couple sat on the edge, their tails twined together as they giggled and flirted. I turned and caught Nampi watching them as well, though she awkwardly returned to sucking the remains of her meal from her claws when we made eye contact. Her ears lifted when I raised a wing to signal to the store we were going to stop at first.
“Platinum Paw, The Greatest Fashion Emporium For Everyone!”
The title alone was painfully cliche, taken to the tenth power by the brightly lit store taking up three department slots. Despite the flashy exterior, though, it was the best place to shop for belts, brooches, and bracelets alike. Customers who looked like they earned my yearly salary in a week browsed the higher end brands while I brought my friend to the section I wanted to show her.
Her ears were held up as we stood together next to a shelf chock full of fashionable bags and bandoliers of every variety.
“Pick one,” I told her.
Nampi's ears shot to a straight pose in surprise, “Any?”
“Within reason. I've got a few extra credits to blow and I know nobody better to spend it on.”
With an inviting headtilt, I let Nampi peruse the shelves at her leisure. Her lips pursed together and her tail flicked with glee as she fingered at every piece that caught her eye. I chuckled at her outburst of enthusiasm while turning to find my own items to gloss over.
A breeze from outside nipped at my beak while I considered what I’d like to purchase. The place dripped with an atmosphere of faux hospitality, from the bright blue-stained floorboards to the radio prattling off advertisements in a sickeningly sweet tone to the faint, fruity aroma of scented cleaner. It was oppressive as only a fissan-owned company could be to the senses.
What I wouldn’t pay to see how a human would fare in such an environment.
I knew they were social creatures at least, but I had no doubt that the predatory senses of a human, so honed to hunting, would get overstimulated in this center of gaudy indulgence. Knowing I was something of a predator myself made me sympathize provided that even I had to squint to keep the pale lights inside from searing my eyes. I could only imagine how the arboreal eyes of a Terran would fare. I was so lost in thought imagining how lost the Terrans would be that I could almost ignore the obnoxious giggling and metallic rattling coming from behind me.
Risking a peek at the source, into my sight came a pair of venlil, one a male carrying a pair of bags as well as a couple more strapped to his belt. The bored expression in his eyes was not one of a man who was in high spirits. The other venlil was a woman who was the source of the noise.
Her mottled gray pelt was accented by a tasteful belt design, free of almost any practical functions but not flashy or excessive in garnishment either. At least, that’s what I would say, were it not for the braid of beads that dangled on the belt, jingling with each bounce of the lively woman’s stride. It was clear that such a gaudy accessory was intended to draw attention to her, though why was a mystery. Certainly, the shiny braids seemed designed as decoration first and practical second.
She turned about and I faced back to my browsing before she could catch me staring. Nampi was nowhere in sight, though I figured she was somewhere behind the shelf, sifting through every accessory on the section I'd suggested.
Clink.
Something pelted to my immediate right. I tilted my head to spot a tree nut shell clattering to the floor. Without being able to guess where it came from, I had to wonder what could've launched it over this way. Even with my keen eyesight, nobody in the crowd seemed to be a suspect.
Clink.
Another shell pelted my vicinity, ricocheting off of the floor and hitting the shelf I was standing next to. I ruffled my feathers in frustration - clearly, someone was trying to get my attention, though I couldn't make out who it was. Out of the corner of my vision, the woman from before eyed me curiously as I looked about, though I wasn't interested in engaging with her.
Thwack.
One more shell came flying and, unfortunately, the aim on this one was true, nailing me on the beak. Irritated, I stormed out of the store to find the source of the instigator. I scanned over the bodies to find anyone who could've been responsible for this indignity, eventually concluding that it came from the dining area across the walkway.
Whoever was responsible was in for an earful and I was already structuring which of the offender's family members would be acceptable as fodder for stray words. As I approached, I found the tables were mostly empty save for one, which made my heart begin to drop as I met eyes with the only occupant. Suddenly, I was much less inclined to hurl insults.
“Oh, hi there!” Qitel called out in a sickly sweet tone. “Come, take a seat! We have much to discuss!”
The Exterminator clutched a bag of tree nuts in his claws, a pile of discarded shells already gathered on the table next to him. He grabbed another as I approached, effortlessly prying the shell in half between two claws and tossed the contents into his mouth. “Good protein, these,” he commented as I sat down.
“Must be for that good arm you've got there,” I mumbled. I caught sight of a couple of bags beneath his chair, seemingly from one of the tech stores contained within the center.
“Bah, it's guesswork. So how are you? I haven't heard from you since we worked together!”
“I was just spending time with a friend, shopping and enjoying my time off.”
“Your time off? Oh, am I interrupting something?”
His snide tone irked me, though now wasn’t the time for interjections. “You are, Qitel,” I replied with no shortage of vitriol in my tone. “But I see no harm in chatting for a bit.”
“Good, because I have some merchandise”- he reached into his belt pocket and deposited a couple of items onto the table -“and you’re just the person to look into it, human sympathizer.”
I drew a terse breath in shock, but my worries were quelled when I considered that if Qitel had the power to do anything about it, he would’ve done so instead of approaching me so discreetly. A glance down at the item on the table showed that he was presenting what looked to be a tracker as well as a personal drive. “Found in the garbage,” he told me.
“The guild resorts to dumpster diving when they already have such a bloated budget now?”
“No, featherbrain, I have decided to keep this for myself. These items were found together, sealed in a plastic pouch, and placed in a garbage bin. The city has bans against electronics being placed into public bins, and so I was curious why this wound up in there. Managed to get my coworker, a techie, to crack it open and…”
Qitel reached into his belt again, glowering at me with the same condescending gaze he’d given me when I first saw his face. He seemed to revel in digging for the item as slowly as possible to waste my time. Finally, he found whatever he was looking for and revealed it as a printed piece of paper, folded into eighths. The snobby yotul threw the unfurled paper on the table and rolled it toward me.
I craned my neck to look at the parchment, though I was immediately perplexed by the text on it; it appeared to be some sort of form, going by the boxes with words on the inside, followed by blank lines. “Found on the drive, here,” Qitel told me, jabbing a claw to the storage. “Translator shows it as Terran writing.”
Drawing my holopad from my satchel, I held it over the paper with the translator to get an understanding. Surely enough, the language on it came up positive as a variant of Terran writing and I was affirmed in it being a form of some sort based on the wording of the text. The boxes seemed like an odd sort of job application, asking for the typical name, contacts, and prior work experiences, but quickly took a strange turn as it began asking for where their home on Earth was prior to arrival, what family they had on Venlil Prime if any, and where they worked, implying that they were seeking individuals who were already employed.
I knew little about human employment methods, but I didn’t imagine that sourcing individuals from other jobs was the most efficient way to gain a workforce. Terran service industries already dotted the planet while many humans also found work in local environments. So what was the angle that the creator of this application was going for?
Most concerningly was that the paper had no insignia, identifying marks, or noted address to return the form to. “And where did you find it again?”
“In the garbage, alongside this intact tracker that was activated at the time of recovery. Y’know, when I was dumpster diving. Text on the document showed it was addressed to one ‘Choctaw Nexus’.”
“A pseudonym of some sort?”
“Clearly. Short sorting through the archives shows the first name traces back to the group out east - perhaps you've heard about them. How the name and the items we have here are connected is beyond my understanding, but-”
“Well, this has been an absolutely riveting discussion about your collection of trash, Qitel,” I told him as I stood up to leave. “But this really sounds like an issue to be resolved by your fellow guildsmen.”
The sound of another shell splitting rang out as I turned away.
“I'm not through talking with you, predator.”
The sting as a piece nailed me in the back of the head prompted me to whirl back around, sticking my beak in the insolent yotul's snout. “Perhaps you've forgotten, little man,” I cooed in an equally bittersweet tone to the one he gave me before. “The krakotl never had a problem with settling issues the old-fashioned way before the interview. Try me and find out why I'm in the line of work I am.”
“Oh, we wouldn't want that in such a"- he waved his paw to a group of passersby who had stopped to gawk at my display -”public forum. Please, contain yourself.”
I had to force the feathers on my back to settle and I raised my head away from him. “What else is it you wanted, then?”
“Well, I'd appreciate if you took this merchandise off my paws,” he told me as he brushed the electronics and printout toward me.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you're closer to the humans than I'd ever care to be, and may be able to find out who this Choctaw Nexus is. Something about the package just feels… off. And I know when to trust my feelings. Besides, we both know that you know where Tac is, don't we?”
“I don't-”
“We have videographic evidence that you conspired with a human - of the aforementioned squatters, no less - and let the kid escape. You're not as sneaky as you think, and if we find this ‘Choctaw Nexus’ turns out to be a bad actor that can be traced back to them - and by extension, you - well, there’d be no talking down my boss from having you dealt with. By helping me find out who this is, you may yet be able to clear your name of any wrongdoing.”
I clenched my beak tightly to maintain a straight face. Qitel stood up with a flourish and discarded the bag he was carrying in a bin.
“See, the krakotl were never special for using threats and bullying to get results. It's because you were good at killing predators,” he jeered. “Now, if you don't mind, this primitive has appointments to attend to… old lady who got trampled courtesy of the humans and all. You stay out of trouble, Hileen, and stay in touch.”
The self-assured marsupial melded into the crowd in a matter of seconds, leaving me with a table containing dumpster trophies and a pile of shells. Reluctantly, I swept the shells into my wing and dumped them into the bin before gathering the other two items he'd left me and stuffing them into my bag. I'd been gone from Nampi long enough and she would notice my absence before long.
Crossing the walkway again, I could spot from where I stood that Nampi was indeed still in the Platinum Paw. I approached, and soon I found that while she didn't seem to have noticed me stepping away, she was definitely in a soured mood based on the sagging of her ears and tail. With my talons clacking on the floorboards, I hustled to her side and her mood chippered up ever so slightly as she heard me approach.
I chimed in, “Find anything?”
“Everything. I want everything, Red, and I can't decide on what I want. They all just look so great!”
From behind, a voice called out, “Nampi!”
We both jumped at the exclamation and turned about to spot the venlil lady I'd seen before spring from behind the shelf. The man poked his head from behind the shelf too, though less enthusiastically and with yet another bag in his clutches. My friend's eyes widened in surprise with her tail and ears perking up in kind. With a light in her eyes, she exclaimed, “Nalek!”
The two embraced with shrill squeals and laughter as Nalek's accompaniment and I traded awkward glances.
“It's been too long!”
“You never stayed in contact!”
The women exchanged giddy greetings and the pompous stranger turned to me, leering over me as though she was sizing me up.
“Who's your friend here?”
“Oh she's actually my-...”
Nampi paused for a moment, looking back to me.
“Yeah, she's a friend.”
“A friend,” Nalek repeated while her eyes flicked between Nampi and I. “Right.”
Somehow, I get the impression that that was judgemental.
“I'm Hileen, by the way,” I chirped, “if names are to be exchanged.”
“Hileen, that's a lovely name! And such plumage to match, it's a wonder you aren't swarmed by suitors!”
Internally, I groaned at the notion. The idea of being approached by someone to state their interest in me made me queasy, to say the least. Thankfully, I never had that issue growing up as most of the other drakes in school were too busy chasing girls who didn't have a lousy pigmentation mutation such as myself.
“I'm flattered,” I told Nalek before turning to the man whose name had yet to be introduced. “May we get your name?”
“Sask.”
His response was succinct and tonally flat, though there was a brief silence as I expected him to elaborate. Nalek's beads jingled as she lashed him on the calf with her tail.
“I'm Sask, Nalek's fiancée,” he added, throwing her a look to see if she was satisfied.
Nampi gasped with her paws over her snout. “Fiancée! Nalek, you're getting married and you never even told me!”
“Well, I felt a little guilty since it technically broke our pact we made when we were pups. You remember that?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? ‘Let she who bonds through betrothal first be cast out unto the world for all to admonish her!’”
Sask and I both gave inquisitive expressions. “You two spoke like that as pups?” Sask asked.
“Well, I'm paraphrasing,” Nampi admitted with a playful ear waggle. “But you get the gist.”
“Indeed, they do, sweet Nampi. Now, may I ask what you're doing bringing your avian friend here into this store on this fine claw?”
“Oh, no no, she's the one treating me! Isn't that right, Red?”
I saw her tail twitch and was sure it took restraint not to tickle my neck with it as we stood before her old friend.
“She's been a good friend,” I explained. “So I wanted to reverse the roles for once and treat her to something myself.”
Nampi skipped over to me and wrapped her arm around me, glancing back to her old friend. “See? We'd all be so lucky to have a… friend like her.”
“So I've witnessed. But perhaps you're a bit stuck, as I've seen you prancing up and down these aisles for a while, no? Maybe you don't know what you want?”
“Nalek, you know I've never been good about making my mind up.”
“Some things never change, you ditz. Tell you what: you and Sask go find us a seat and we can catch up all we'd like when we're not taking up aisle space, yes? So shoo! I'll help Hileen here pick one out for you!”
With a bored grunt, Sask made off with the goods he had strapped to himself, followed by Nampi who gave me one more playful tail flick before dashing off into the crowd. I looked back to the mottled snout of Nalek who watched her friend wander off with a wistful glance.
“She was my first, you know.”
“Your what now.”
“Love. Way back when we were growing from pups into young adults back in private education, we explored much together. We saw each other through a lot, including the less savory parts of finding a mate. When Nampi realized it wasn't the boys she was into, she turned to me, and I offered my hand as her stalwart companion… to a point.”
“You weren't interested in her the same way?”
“I'd grown up seeing her as a sister of sorts, so ultimately, when we split it off, we stayed close as friends and she never seemed to be bothered by it. She struggled to find others in school who had the same interests as herself, but she never fussed about it.”
Nalek's claws browsed over a set of pouched bandoliers made with intricate embroidering. “Have you two… spent the night together? Alone?”
Spiritually, I reeled from the inquiry. The whiplash from that question was equitable to being smacked by a human. “Wha- why? How's that pertinent to the subject at hand?”
“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” she purred with a smug glance my way.
I didn't need to begin to list the different ways such a question was violating to our privacy, and yet this woman was treating it like a game.
“Not really your concern, ma'am.”
Nalek chuckled as she picked out one of the bandoliers and inspected it with her claws. “I'd like to think that she and I still have that old connection, despite everything. And to that end, I know that she's no slag and doesn't trust easy. To see her be so vulnerable around you and to talk so highly of someone who's clearly below her income level as a predator…”
She stretched the bandolier out to appreciate the design in its entirety.
“Well, that's something special. Here"- she foisted the accessory into my wings as I stood gobsmacked -"this just screams her name.”
“This is, like, double my budget.”
“Love don't come cheap, darling. You wanna see good things happen, sometimes you've gotta step out of your comfort zone and grasp for it!”
“I'm being lectured by a rich woman on finances.”
“It's a philosophy that goes beyond money, ‘Red.’ The humans have a saying, in their horrendously predatory nomenclature, that contains a kernel of truth: ‘you miss every shot you don't take’.”
Yep, that's definitely a human phrase.
Nalek's steely braid rattled with every flick of the tail as we proceeded through the checkout.
“You want things to change between you and her?” she continued. “Don't just wait for it to happen.”
She let the conversation rest there as we finished the purchase, possibly to let me recuperate mentally from the damage done to my account. Outside, we found our respective partners sitting at a table with Sask looking up in boredom as Nampi chatted away, though she immediately shut up and turned to me with excited flicks of her tail as she saw what I was carrying.
I held it toward her and she happily shot to her feet, effortlessly removing the tags with her claws and clipping it to her belt. Nalek clapped and waggled her tail as the giddy lady did a whirl about to let us admire the accessory. While I'd have preferred one with pockets to give it a more practical use, I decided to let Nalek have the victory as our mutual friend clearly enjoyed it.
The rest of the paw was a blur as the two friends chatted without end until Sask eventually reminded his betrothed that they had a schedule to attend to. Though Nalek offered to call us a taxi home as a gesture of kindness, I saw through her ruse to determine that she was trying to pull a fast one on me - the clever ear flick she gave as we boarded the automated vehicle sold it for me.
We sat in the seats as the vehicle took the express ride home.
Nampi cleared her throat before she spoke, “Thank you for taking some time to spend with me, I know you've had a lot less free time as of late.”
“It's a prison of my own design, if I must be honest. A feedback loop of working a job that doesn't guarantee a paycheck to pay for rent that keeps going up, and thus needing to work more.”
The venlil giggled and chided me, “You really should've stayed in university.”
“There's a lotta 'should haves’ that've led me to this point. No use wondering what could have been.”
“There's always a use for wondering what could have been, Hileen.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“Every decision I make, I always wonder what I could've done differently that it'd have turned out better,” she explained as she waved her free paw to the sky. “It's how you grow as a person, Red.”
Her silky pelt felt heavenly in contrast to the chilly air from outside, making it hard to let her words sink in.
“You rich types seem chock full of philosophy. I wonder if I'll become a brooding orator when I get some cash to my name.”
The cab filled with laughter as we veered around the final corner to my neighborhood, as it was the closest stop. The door popped open accompanied by a chime from the drone, signaling for me to depart.
But before my talons could even hit the pavement, I felt Nampi's scrawny arms wrap around my waist and she let out a pitiful mewl again.
“You don't need to get off here,” she told me with a pouty expression. “We can spend the rest of the paw at my place.”
“I'd love it, but I need to water my plants and get the month's bills sorted before they're due. Again.”
One claw at a time, I plucked her paws from around my waist and the childish venlil conceded, giving me another ear waggle as I departed. “I'll see you tomorrow?” I asked her.
“If you still have eyes by then, then you can bet your ass!”
“I still don't gamble.”
“You'll come around to it eventually.”
I shut the door to the taxi and watched as it carted away the one venlil who I ever truly felt on the same wavelength as. Fiddling with the lock felt like more of a chore than usual at this time as I felt a little voice tugging at the back of my head.
“You miss every shot you don't take.”
The lock felt jammed as I began to jiggle it more vigorously with the electric key. Either the RFID or NFC readers were messed up, as the lock refused to accept my key. I looked up and down the street, though Nampi was now long gone for me to rescind my earlier rejection.
“Every decision I make, I wonder what I could've done differently.”
The door rattled as I grew more and more infuriated with the lock. Qitel's smug expression as he threatened me so boldly in public played back in my head, and I wondered what would've happened had I decided to go through with insulting his mother. Better yet, I wondered what could've been had I not backed down in the face of his unflinching confidence.
Bzzt. The lock rejected my key again.
“Raagh! You fucking useless hunk of junk!”
I squawked in anger and kicked against the door, careless of the consequences of having Markol back down here to admonish another of his tenants for causing a ruckus. The walls were surprisingly sturdy for how ineffective the venlil architecture looked on the surface and I reeled back in pain as my leg throbbed.
Click.
I looked to my left to see that it wasn't my door that came open, but that of the twins. The door cracked open ever so slightly, no doubt nudged by the force of my tirade and I sighed. Nobody was expected to be home at this time, with Vili being away and Luka leaving early to get a head start.
Luka had been given a stern talking-to by the landlord for allowing one of those cats into his apartment through neglect, and I was disappointed that he seemed to have not learned his lesson this time. In fact, it seemed he hadn't even thought to lock the door this time.
I took it upon myself to shut the door for him before turning back to my own apartment door. Grasping the key with one talon, I turned it ever so gently, though the lock still refused to give in.
With a bit more force, the torsion applied to the key felt as though it should've snapped it by now. Markol sure didn't waste any expense for the security for this place, doubtlessly as a result of his history in electronic security, but I wished now that he had provided a way in that didn't rely on privately sourced locks.
Considering my options as I stood trapped outside, I realized that I had never gotten around to paying for a new lock for Tadi. I'd considered contacting her to inform her that Tac had made it out of town safely, but that'd involve also telling her that her son was now in the care of humans, as if that was a better outcome to her.
Stepping out front, I realized that there was one more option I hadn't considered: my window. I usually forgot to lock it after I was through letting air circulate and I was silently grateful to myself for this absentmindedness now more than ever. Sticking a foot on the threshold, I lifted myself in a way that'd allow me to have leverage to force the window open.
The window made me fight for every inch, but I felt a strange satisfaction as it slowly opened up into an entrance that I could squeeze my way through. I let out a sigh as my talons clicked against the cool floor and slid the window shut.
I laid my satchel on the couch and turned back to the door, ready to unleash my fury on the disobedient object. But as I reached for the lock to manually open the door, I noted that the lights on the RFID interface both flashed at once, blinking erratically. Red and green flickered without rhyme or reason, indicating that it was both active and inactive.
As pretty as the colors were, I now knew that Markol's locks were not as reliable as he had touted them about: typically, such would not occur unless the device was damaged deliberately, and yet nothing indicated that I'd had uninvited guests. One could pray that those cats didn't secretly know how to cobble together an ECM jammer, but my personal wager was on faulty equipment.
Settling in, I browsed my favorite soaps on the television. For what was intended to be a day of relaxation and show of affection for a friend, I found myself rather wound up over all the things that added up. Couples threw around flowery words and swooned over one another on screen as I felt the tension diffuse. My holopad rang and I turned it over to spot that Nampi was informing me that she'd arrived home safely.
>>> Feels empty here, all alone.
She made sure to drive the point home with a sticker of a venlil making a pouty expression.
Next time, I thought to myself, I'll get it right for you, Nampi.
[ First / Previous ]

Jenna and I had always found solace on the open road. It was our shared sanctuary, a canvas of asphalt and landscapes where our worries dissolved in the rearview mirror. Every mile was a story, every destination a fresh start. This trip was meant to be just another chapter in our collection of weekend getaways—a simple drive down the scenic coast, camping under the stars with the promise of a seaside sunrise.
We left the bustling cityscape on a bright Friday afternoon, our spirits high and our old Chevy bursting with gear. Jenna managed the playlist, a mix of classic rock and indie anthems that had become our unofficial road trip soundtrack. As the urban sprawl gave way to open fields and distant mountains, our conversation meandered from mundane work chatter to excited plans for the days ahead.
Hours into our journey, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of pink and orange, we spotted a couple stranded by the roadside. Their car, an old sedan, had its hood propped open, emitting wisps of steam. They looked forlorn, thumbing for a lift, their faces etched with the fatigue of being stuck in such a desolate spot.
"Should we help them?" Jenna asked, her hand pausing on the volume dial.
"Let’s stop. It could be us in their shoes," I replied, guided by that unwritten rule of the road that binds all travelers. We pulled over, rolling down the window to greet them.
Their relief was palpable. "Thank you so much!" the woman exclaimed as they approached. "I’m Lila, and this is Mark. Our car just decided today was a good day to die on us."
After a brief exchange, we learned that they were also headed towards the coast. It seemed like fate, or at least a fortunate coincidence. They grabbed their bags from their car—just a couple of backpacks, really—and squeezed into our back seat.
With new companions, our journey resumed. Mark shared stories of their travels, each tale more adventurous than the last, while Lila chimed in with comments that brought laughter all around. The chemistry was instant, a bond formed by the shared love of the road and the tales it inspired.
As darkness settled in, a dense fog began to roll across the landscape. The road ahead turned murky, our headlights struggling to slice through the thickening white blanket. Mark suggested a shortcut, a lesser-known logging road that cut through the woods and promised to shave off an hour from our trip.
Hesitant but trusting, I turned off the main highway. The road was uneven, gravel crunching under our tires, flanked by towering pines that loomed over us like silent sentinels. The deeper we drove, the thicker the fog became, enveloping the car in a ghostly embrace.
Lila grew quiet, her earlier vivacity replaced by a tense silence. She stared out the window, her brow furrowed as if listening to something beyond our hearing. Mark whispered to her occasionally, his voice too low for us to catch any words.
The atmosphere inside the car shifted. The air turned cold, and an uncomfortable feeling settled over us. Jenna gripped my hand tighter. The radio, which had been playing softly in the background, began to crackle with static. Between bursts of harsh white noise, a faint whispering emerged, as if someone was speaking just out of the range of clarity.
I glanced in the rearview mirror to ask Mark and Lila if they knew what might be causing the interference, but my heart nearly stopped when I saw the backseat was empty. Not just empty of Mark and Lila, but devoid of any sign they had ever been there—no backpacks, no water bottles, nothing.
"Jenna, where did they go?" I stuttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
She turned to look, her face paling as she took in the empty seat. "I... I don't know. They were just there!"
The whispering from the radio grew louder, now clearly distinguishable as voices. Not just any voices—Mark and Lila's. They were calling out to us, their tones twisted into something chilling, almost mocking. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as they said our names, urging us to come find them.
Panic surged through me. I floored the accelerator, desperate to put as much distance between us and whatever this nightmare was. The fog outside seemed to thicken in response, swirling around the car as if trying to slow us down.
Suddenly, Jenna screamed, pointing ahead. Two figures stood in the middle of the road, illuminated by our headlights through the dense fog. It was Mark and Lila, or at least, their shapes. But something was horribly wrong. Their eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and their smiles were too wide, the corners of their mouths stretched too far up their cheeks.
I slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt just feet away from them. The radio fell silent as we faced the figures in the road. They didn't move, didn't blink, just stared at us with those terrifying smiles.
"What do you want?" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with fear.
Their smiles faded, replaced by expressions of mock sadness. "You didn't stay with us," Lila's figure said, her voice a distorted echo of her earlier, cheerful tone.
"You left us behind," Mark's figure added, stepping closer to the car. The fog seemed to move with him, curling around his legs as if he were part of it.
"We just wanted to share this place with you," Lila's figure said, moving forward to join Mark. "Now, you're a part of it forever."
Before I could react, the figures vanished, melting into the fog as if they had never been there. I stared out into the night, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Jenna and I exchanged a look of sheer terror. Without a word, I threw the car into reverse, turning us around and speeding back towards the highway.
The drive back was silent, both of us too shaken to speak. Every shadow in the fog looked like a figure waiting to emerge, and every whisper of wind sounded like a voice calling out.
When we finally reached home, the sun was beginning to rise, casting weak light over a world that felt entirely different than it had the day before. We didn't talk about what happened, not wanting to make it any more real than it already was. But the memory of that night—the voices, the figures, their final words—lingered long after.
Days turned into weeks, and although life slowly returned to normal, the experience stayed with us. Sometimes, in the quiet moments before sleep, I'd hear whispers, faint and distant, like an echo of that night. Jenna and I never went on another night drive after that, and we avoided talking about Mark and Lila, as if mentioning them might bring them back into our lives.
But the road, once a place of freedom and escape, now felt like a trap, a reminder that some things are better left undiscovered.

My family and I are booked to travel on the Viva next October on a 10-night cruise from Istanbul to Athens. I've read a lot of reviews of the ship so I know what to expect and why some don't like it. I personally think it'll be great as this is my first time cruising so the novelty of being on a ship should make up for any shortcomings!
I'm mainly looking for what to expect on this type of itinerary at that time of year. I know October is shoulder season so crowds should be less at many of the ports but what about on board? Is there a noticeable difference in crowds at different dining venues?
Is it worth splurging on the spa pass or Vibe for this itinerary? I'm worried the evenings might be too chilly to take advantage of the outdoor pool and we only have one sea day. I do plan on staying on the ship in Cyprus so that would be another opportunity to take advantage of it. The spa pass sounds like a good option too as it's indoors.
And, lastly any tips or suggestions for any of these ports that we'll be visiting?
Kusadasi, Rhodes, Limassol, Alexandria, Crete, Santorini, Mykonos
​
​

what if there was a dumb guy
and the dumb guy was really, really profoundly dumb
what if he was so dumb he spent all day every day all his life pooping himself and playing with his poop
what if he spent so long pooping himself and playing with the poop that he pooped
so very very long pooping himself and then playing with the poop that he accumulated that magic malcolm gladwell 10,000 hours, and then still way even more hours than that, under his belt, of self pooping experience
and in the course of playing with his own poop the dumb guy learned to make intricate and baroquely ornamental poop sculptures from the poop
like some kind of a poop savant
and sometimes the dumb guy tries to show the poop sculptures to people because they're so beautiful and ornate
but everyone runs away. because no matter how exquisitely formed all of the poop is it is just too disgustingly smelly
but one day someone with with a little curiosity and a strong stomach strays a tad closer to the dumb guy than most do
and that someone is perceptive and sensitive enough to notice that there may just be something special here about these poop sculptures, that the dumb guy may well have something to give, if only his poop didn't stink so bad
so the someone takes a deep breath, puts a clothes peg on their nose, and says Yes i would love to look at your poop sculptures tell me all about them
and the dumb guy is overjoyed beyond words. he is swept away with ecstasy at his undreamt fortune. a non-dumb person who doesn't play with their own poop wants to talk to him and be his friend and be interested in the poop sculpting together
the someone, in their turn, is graduallly captivated and charmed at the dumb poop guy's endless passion and enthusiasm and willingness to share it. they even think things to themselves "i wish i loved anything as much as this dumb guy loves playing with his own poop"
but the peg stays on their nose, of course
the someone also knows the pain the dumb pooping guy feels from his isolation. the someone thinks it isn't fair. the someone wants to fix it. the someone wants to help.
so the someone goes to the art supply store (they cannot take their dumb friend there, obviously) and at their own expense they purchase a smorgasbord of workable material: polymer clay, beeswax, silicone resin, salt dough and more, in all the colors of the rainbow
and with extremely tactful and diplomatic grace, they carefully broach the possibility of the dumb guy exploring different mediums to display his sculpture skills in
specifically, odorless ones
well, the dumb guy is intrigued. he is a bit confuzzled about why exactly anyone would want to make sculptures out of anything aside from one's own poop; but the someone is his best friend now, and if it makes the someone happy for some reason he's right on board
the dumb guy launches himself into his new task with gusto. it's heavy going at first, and there are some false starts; the consistency of the odorless clay is not quite the same as that of his poop, and he can't quite make it do the same things. compared with his poop sculptures, the new pieces are honestly quite mediocre.
but the someone tells him they're wonderful and he should be proud of them. over and over. and even in his profound regardation he can tell something is changing with them. he doesn't know why, but the more time he spends on making the bland and indifferent clay sculptures, and the less time he spends masterpieces out of poop, the happier they seem and the more time they want to spend together
one day, the someone even takes the peg off of their nose. by now, the dumb guy barely smells of poop at all
they come up with a suggestion: it's time to open the doors and introduce the world to the newly clean guy, whom in the absence of any poop stink it is questionable to even call dumb anymore. an grand exhibition, open to one and all, of the plain old guy's normal-smelling masterpieces in various plastic media
it's a little scary but it's exciting too. the guy is so grateful to the someone for helping him and putting the time in when no one else would. that long standing ache in his heart is almost gone. privately, he has absolutely no idea why the someone thinks his new stuff is so incredible; but he still wants to show his friend, and the world in general, gratitude and beauty by making the best pieces he ever can
so while the someone is busy with all the invitations and arrangements, the guy plans a suite of last minute adjustments and reornamentations so his gallery will be as stunning as it can possibly be
and he gets down to it
yes he gets down to it
on the day of the grand exhibition, a crowd has formed outside the grand hall. there is an anticipatory hubbub in the air. the someone proudly cuts the ribbon and throws open the doors
and their noses are powerfully assaulted by a tidal wave of stench. the stench of pure poop.
all of the mediocre and uninspired clay sculptures have been transformed into rancidly putrid masterpieces, by the addition of intricated and delicately sculpted layers of the dumb guy's poop. poop is his best medium, and the public deserves better than mere clay
in the middle of it all is he, squatposed, smeared even more deeply with poop and being more gross and dumb than he ever was before
in that moment the someone's heart breaks and shatters into one krillion seventy eight kajillion brillion tiny little bits. and with no words, no words at all, not even the cries of horror and disgust emanating from the rest of the crowd, they leave and run far far away and never come near the dumb guy ever again
and the dumb guy doesn't understand. he has no idea what he did wrong. no matter how much he thinks, it just doesn't occur to him that poop smells bad and people don't like it
because he is too dumb
grieving the loss of this deep friendship is an extremely painful and lonely process for him but he manages to make it and bounce back, by the sole means of - you guessed it - pooping and playing with his poop and making even more wonderfully accomplished poop sculptures
after all, the only possible reason everyone ran away from the exhibition must be that his poop sculpting skills weren't up to par. that's gotta be it. gotta spend more time poopsculpting. poopsculpting, poop grinding for the rest of his life. one day he'll make it. one day it'll all go right. just gotta keep pooping.
so yeah what if all of that happened

The detached garage is in sad shape after not being maintained by previous owner. We're trying to push a complete residing down a few years by doing some triage. We've been replacing the rotted boards and scraping off the old peeling paint so we can repaint.
So, question: Any recommendations for outdoor wood fillers & caulk? Should I use a Wood Hardener on the iffy spots first?
Thanks very much!

So context. I’m in a campaign with five other players and this issue relates to a situation where my character is in the minority when it comes to an opinion.
What happened was that we needed to clear out a room in a building that was filled with difficult enemies. So two players decided on bombing the room with fire magic and lamp oil. This led to the rogue NPC and my character going to steal the oil from a shop. My character morally disagreed with this idea. But it made sense mechanically for her to accompany the rogue since she had the second highest stealth. Plus plot wise, she felt she needed to make it up to the rogue NPC and one of the PCs for her cowardly actions in the building earlier.
The oil was stolen successfully and the rogue got it back to the building, but at the cost of my character getting caught outside past curfew and sent back to the tavern where her employer was. This meant that she got an earful despite her not being directly involved in the bombing and she got to see most of the aftermath of the whole incident, making her feel even more guilty. It led to a later conversation where my character finally piped up about not wanting to do something like that again.
Out of the six characters, three of them were very on board with this plan (two of which were the ones who planned it), one of them wasn’t at the session we did this on but agrees with the plan after being briefed on it, one character is staying neutral on it and focused on keeping NPCs safe and my character was heavily against it, but had a hand in it due to what I mentioned earlier. There are also a few NPCs with differing opinions on the plan too, but only one of them agrees with my character (her employer).
I don’t mind my character being in this position in terms of plot and roleplay. It’s actually kinda interesting. But I don’t want this to affect other player’s fun in terms of gameplay. I don’t want to judge everyone’s play style on one incident. But if we’re going for a chaotic campaign, my pacifist Bard who wants to spare as many people as possible might clash with the characters who are more willing to kill a little more, especially if she’s literally the only one who thinks this way.
How do I strike a balance? The campaign is still in its infancy, so I don’t think I need to go as drastic as making a new character. But my character is now fleshed out enough where I like where her main personality is.

Hi I'm a fresh grad po and I am employed and sumabak in a corporate world going on 2 months na.
I travel around 3 hrs prior the time mismo ng start ng work since I ride 2 transpos going to work with 20 minutes walk also. Lately napapansin ko nalang na bogla nalang ako na"duduwal" like its near vomit na. Yet I'm feeling well naman. Its only triggered before I go to work.
Can this possibly be the work anxiety that I'm always thinking? I'm planning to resign by the end of the Month and instead take up board exams for Psychometrician muna.
P.S. toxic din environment ko sa work haha. Tas halos everyday ako pinapag OT from 8:30 am to 7:30-8pm as lahat daw kasi ng tasks ko ay "urgent" and need ko raw matapos.
P.P.S. yung pinaka ako nakahawak sa buong process involved sa work ko, 2 weeks pa lang talaga tas yung unang month na stay ko ay kung ano lang idelegate sakin ng pinalitan ko yun lang ang pimapagawa sakin. Andyan din yung medyo off na sermon niya sakin tp the extent na sinasabi niya sakin na nauubos na raw pasensiya niya sakin and if wala talaga nagbago, di kami magkakasundo (sabi niya lol)

I’m having trouble coming up with a color scheme for a custom chapter I’m creating. Their name is “The Mourning Stars” symbol is an 8 point star on an urn. Their home world is a mortuary moon that orbits a hive world. The only color I have planned is 2 blue streaks coming from the eyes and down the torso. They are a 13th founding chimeric chapter a mix of iron hands, salamanders and word bearers. Also if anyone knows where I can get mark 3 torsos, studded legs and and pauldrons , and Templar style bucket helms. Any help is appreciated

I’m in Downer’s Grove, a suburban locality southwest of Chicago. I’m sitting at a brewery having earned an internal reward for writing up another edition of the Week Ahead newsletter. Now I’m going to sit here writing up these blurbs for Charlottesville that double as a prompt for tomorrow’s radio appearance on WINA. I was going to skip tomorrow so I could explore Chicago, but there’s so much happening this week that I want people to know about.
So, let’s go:
DOWNTOWN MALL
I’m quoted in this week’s C-Ville Weekly article on the Downtown Mall which is also weird because I write a weekly column for that publication as well. On Monday, Council will be presented with recommendations from a committee that has suggested ways to reform the mall and how it managed. They’ve also made suggestions that have been floated before but didn’t get anywhere, such as adding parking meters and adding more seats. They also suggest a revisit of how outdoor cafes are regulated, with a possible idea of changing their boundaries to allow for more pedestrian flow. Also possibly charging more. There’s a lot in the report worth reading. (there’s a link in my summary).
150 to 190 AFFORDABLE UNITS at 10th and Wertland
We can now look at the first image of what a six story building at the corner of 10th and Wertland would look like. This is the first major development under the new Development Code, and the first of three projects in the University of Virginia’s affordable housing initiative that seeks to construct between 1,000 and 1,500 units on land owned by them or the UVA Foundation. The Board of Architectural Review will take a first look at their meeting on Tuesday. Take a look at the picture with this segment. This infill development will transform Charlottesville and make a move to a more urban character. But is that road even close to handling the traffic? What do you think? (read more)
TRANSIT PLANS
On Tuesday, Charlottesville Area Transit will hold a virtual meeting on their transit strategic plan. Public comment is being taken through May 31, and this webinar offers an opportunity to learn how changes will be implemented gradually as the number of buses come online. I admit I follow this closely because I’m an avid fan of taking a bus if I don’t have to drive. But I really want people to pay attention to transit policy as the core of Charlottesville community prepares for more density. (this is a story I wrote last week) (learn more about the meeting)
PRIVATE SCHOOL REQUEST
At this point, I cannot provide empirical evidence that private schools, particularly Christian schools, have seen increased enrollment in the past few years. I do know that entities like the Christian Community Academy state that they have more and more applicants but don’t have the space to accommodate them. This Thursday, the Places29-Rio Community Advisory Committee will have a community meeting about a special use permit request from CCA that seeks to be able to build 9,000 square feet worth of modular buildings to accommodate their middle school enrollment. As part of the packet, they’re saying they will come back with a rezoning for a new building and to increase enrollment further. I’d like to read a story about the growth of private Christian schools that seeks to understand why. But not one that demonizes the parents who make the choice to take their kids out of the public option available to them. Is this how we further the cultural divide that threatens to tear us all apart? (learn more about the meeting)
OTHER ITEMS:

• Louisa County Supervisors will consider a budget supplement of around three-quarters of a million dollars to cover a shortfall for fire and rescue services (learn more about the meeting)
• The Albemarle Architectural Review Board will consider an amendment to add five more units to what had been proposed as six (learn more about the meeting)
• The MPO Policy Board will adopt the long-range transportation plan and endorse Smart Scale candidate projects, a process that is transparent but depends on reporting to let the public know what’s happening which is what I do. (learn more about the meeting)
• Nelson County’s Planning Commission will discuss a series of recommendations about how to alter the zoning code to better implement the recently adopted Comprehensive Plan. (learn more about the meeting)

Any extra edge in this installment is created purely by writing this in Downer’s Grove, Illinois, a place right next to the place I spent years four through six. I am beginning to feel like so much of me comes from here, a place I spent formative years but then ended up in a suburb of Lynchburg. I’ve not been here for 44 years, and here I am for one more night only. I’m convinced my sense of place and community is created by being ripped away from this one. I know at least one of the reddit readers prefers it when I don’t talk about myself, but my journalism wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t learned to read about three miles away from where I hit send.

So context. I’m in a campaign with five other players and this issue relates to a situation where my character is in the minority when it comes to an opinion.
What happened was that we needed to clear out a room in a building that was filled with difficult enemies. So two players decided on bombing the room with fire magic and lamp oil. This led to the rogue NPC and my character going to steal the oil from a shop. My character morally disagreed with this idea. But it made sense mechanically for her to accompany the rogue since she had the second highest stealth. Plus plot wise, she felt she needed to make it up to the rogue NPC and one of the PCs for her cowardly actions in the building earlier.
The oil was stolen successfully and the rogue got it back to the building, but at the cost of my character getting caught outside past curfew and sent back to the tavern where her employer was. This meant that she got an earful despite her not being directly involved in the bombing and she got to see most of the aftermath of the whole incident, making her feel even more guilty. It led to a later conversation where my character finally piped up about not wanting to do something like that again.
Out of the six characters, three of them were very on board with this plan (two of which were the ones who planned it), one of them wasn’t at the session we did this on but agrees with the plan after being briefed on it, one character is staying neutral on it and focused on keeping NPCs safe and my character was heavily against it, but had a hand in it due to what I mentioned earlier. There are also a few NPCs with differing opinions on the plan too, but only one of them agrees with my character (her employer).
I don’t mind my character being in this position in terms of plot and roleplay. It’s actually kinda interesting. But I don’t want this to affect other player’s fun in terms of gameplay. I don’t want to judge everyone’s play style on one incident. But if we’re going for a chaotic campaign, my pacifist Bard who wants to spare as many people as possible might clash with the characters who are more willing to kill a little more, especially if she’s literally the only one who thinks this way.
How do I strike a balance? The campaign is still in its infancy, so I don’t think I need to go as drastic as making a new character. But my character is now fleshed out enough where I like where her main personality is.

It would start off like a normal let's play but it would get more weird and creepy as it goes on I still need to plan out a story and get my friend on board but if you have any advice or ideas do share please

The wheels come to a abruptt stop sometimes when I'm riding it.
The board is fairly old since I bought it second hand but I plan on upgrading to a better board as soon as I get some money.

Hi all, hoping for some advice please.
I am planning a trip with carry on only using Aer Travel Pack 3. I've used it before on Singapore airlines with no problems and I'm planning to go back to SEA with it but with no check in luggage this time and probably using more budget airlines too. I'm hoping the more experienced of you don't mind answering a few questions for me please :)
The bag's measurements are:
Length: 21.5" (54.5 cm), Width: 13" (33 cm), Depth: 9" (21.5 cm)
A lot of airlines restrctions: 56cm/36cm/23cm
which is under most airline's carry on restrictions (on paper) but I've packed it out and I feel like it's slightly above some airline's limits once full and I get the tape measure out.. **I am not over-packing and the rucksack is definitely 'squashable' - there is definitely movement inside the bag**
Q1-If filling the bag out is adding a few centimeters, is it easy to push into the airline sizer? I shouldn't have to be standing on this thing to get it in :)
Q2- If I get to a situation where my carry on may be classed as over size or weight, in general, do most airlines let me just pay a fee and still take it on board or am I going to have to check it in and lose possesion of my only bag? I understand this depends on the airline but happy to speak generally here from your experience.
Q3-I've managed to get the bag to less than 7KG but that's with my laptop in my hands as my extra item. I honestly don't think I can do this without my laptop in my hands but I understand some airlines combine the weight of both items. Has this ever been a problem for any of you on budget airlines?
Q4-I'm not a frequent flyer and can't remember if can just skip the check in desk with just a carry on - can I go straight to security or do I still need a tag for my carry on?
Knowing this bag I don't think anyone would bat an eyelid but I am curious on your experience on more budget airlines
Thanks for ANY advice. I'm not stressing, but I do want to know 'worst case scenario' for budget airlines. Cheers :)

Do you have a group of friends who want to play D&D but no DM? Want to explore a setting that has been built and ironed out with passion throughout the years? Want to engage in a story that has your characters as an integral part of it all? Well then. I may be able to answer your prayers. Read below and I hope that I may have caught your eye enough to give me the chance.
Hello, I'm back again. After trying to form a group from strangers. I decided to save myself the trouble and look for an already established group of friends to DM for a new campaign set in my homebrew world. It's a dark fantasy setting inspired heavily by FromSoftware's various titles (mostly Dark Souls and Bloodborne), ASOIAF, Pillars of Eternity, and of course LoTR.
The Premise
"A wall of darkness had taken the horizon. An abysmal maw stretching into nothingness. Before it, blanketed by unyielding clouds of black, laid a land unrecognizable. The sun’s arrows only pierced as far as perhaps a mile, but it was enough to glimpse the scale of death that had taken hold of Aryleit’s Valley. The color of the endless rows of orchids and daisies, the gentle river that followed the road, the small humble cottages that dotted the landscape. It was all gone. There was no river, no color, no life. Only a broken land of ashes. Like a great fire had raged through. Killing everything."
A disaster, unlike anything ever seen before, struck the eastern lands of Quandra two months ago. First as an earthquake, then as a shadow. Black clouds now occupy hundreds of miles of land and everything underneath it devoid of color and life. There is only speculation about what may have caused it, but the most common rumor is it was the work of magic. Specifically by the hands of the mages of the Ardelyn Academy. Whose great city too lies in the maw of the Eternal Night. Fear around magic has grown significantly. Many believing that its use may trigger another disaster or grow the Eternal Night.
It seems that Ishax may be heading to a dark age. War looms on the horizon as kingdoms lie in wait as vultures to feed upon the wound Quandra suffered. Words of tongueless corpses of elven nobles have grown. A new Rite of Kings ready to commence as Ardentent waits for their king to die. The civil war in Lidym reaching its peak of brutality as the fighting grows. But have they noticed what lurks in the shadows?
What I'm Looking For...

1. Have at least 3 people in your group. Up to a total of 6.
2. Everyone be at least 18 years of age or older.
3. All experience levels are welcomed! Whether everyone is completely new, hard-boiled veterans, or a mixed bag of both.
4. While I may not have to worry about people being disrespectful towards each other (assuming ya are good friends). I would like to DM for a group that is free of any homophobia, racism, etc. None of that edge lord shit please.
5. Players that are eager to engage the world and dive into the story elements of a campaign as well as the stories of the other player characters. The ratio is something about 80-20 Story to Combat. I do try not to neglect combat, but I also do not like throwing it in for the sake of filling a quota.

About Myself

• Worldbuilding is by far my favorite hobby, So much so that I have learned music and 3D software to help add to the world. It is my favorite aspect of fantasy. Only thing I love more than that is collaborative worldbuilding and I have found D&D to be the perfect place for it.
• Communication! I am always happy to answer any questions you may have or clear things up. Not only that but also happy to chat about anything else. If I feel there are issues arising then I won't be afraid to point it out. Only thing that has killed more games than scheduling is a lack of communication.
• Open to Criticism. I know my DMing may not be perfect and I might forget rules here and there, but it is my hope that people reach out to me about any issues. I will never take offense nor hold it against you. It is a game first and all. Maybe you didn't like a ruling or feel I did something unfair. Please let me know and we can discuss it. I do not want grievances to develop due to the lack of communication.

About The Game

• While it is a dark fantasy setting showcasing the horrors of a grim world. All forms of sexual violence are not included in the setting nor permitted. Any other topics you would like me to avoid can be written in the RPG Consent Checklist I have players take before we begin the first session.
• Time: Saturdays/Sundays 7am PST every week. Time is negotiable, but due to my work schedule it will have to be early in the day for me.
• We will be using Discord for voice. Roll20 for the VTT. Talespire for combat encounters (no need to purchase. I simply screenshare it on discord.)
• No Homebrew races. I am open to looking at classes and magic items, but take it with a grain of salt.
• Character Grace Period: The grace period is something I like to throw in my games. Which is basically for the first 3 sessions (5 if new players are included). I will allow players to change ANYTHING about their character. Class, race, whatever. I do this because I believe players may gain a better understanding of the setting in this time and might want to switch to something more fitting.
• No Joke Characters. I'm completely fine with goofing around, but Billy The Toenail Rogue is not a good fit for the world.
• Starting at Level 1 or 3. Depending on the makeup of the group. If there are players who never played before. It's best to begin at level 1 and move up quickly so they can gather the experience.
• Milestone Leveling.
• NO PVP!

Is This Campaign Right For You?

• RP/Narrative Heavy/Political Intrigue. You will find that I do skew a bit more towards the story side of dnd, but that is not to say combat is neglected. I just tend to do combat encounters when it makes sense narratively other than to fit a quota. That's also to say I'm not going to just let 7 sessions go by without a fight.
• Player Agency! It is vital that the players feel like their choices are actually affecting the world around them. I do so by placing a lot of importance on player characters and their backstories. Whether you write a paragraph or a novel. Be sure that I will be using it all to wove it into the grand schemes of the story. The world reacts to you as much as you react to it. I shape the campaign to your characters!
• Living and Breathing World! Worldbuilding is something I'm very passionate about and this world is something I have been fleshing out and changing for years. I very much enjoy making it feel like a real and living world to the players. I also encourage players to add to it as well. If there's something I love as much as worldbuilding. It's collaborate worldbuilding. Events in the world are not paused. Waiting for you to arrive.
• Long Term Campaign! Due to the nature of the story and everything I have planned. This campaign can last a while. During this time. You could see your characters grow to become heroes hailed in every corner of the world as you travel from place to place.

Setting Guide: https://drive.google.com/file/d/13euGqDwPuMcO6qxI9MVD-UF5hUb8bKhview?usp=sharing
Again forgive me for the walls of text. Feel free to skim through it to get an idea of what the world is like. I'm always open to answer any questions regarding the setting.
Apply here!: https://forms.gle/ydmvavr29jRyUy9A6