Hello, I am writing here to see if anyone knows how to solve this issue?
When following the Windows 98 tutorial on the YT 86Box channel, I can't get any internet connection.
I've tested this with numerous different ISO images, could it be my sound card?
I would ask on the official Discord, but I was banned without warning or reason, so dead end there.
Any responses appreciated, thanks for helping.

It strikes me as out of character for Riker to receive the design for the colony ship that can haul 10,000 people, and that's the end of the discussion, like that design is an immutable truth. IMO it would be totally in character for the Bobs to design their own take on a colony ship, perhaps starting with the 10,000-capacity ship. Give an engineer and opportunity to make a design better, but Riker isn't interested? Ridiculous.
Given the 15,000 ships or 10,000 trips math, it seems obvious that a better option would be a much bigger ship. If the ship's capacity was 100,000, then the math is 1,500 ships or 1,000 trips -- which is much more feasible.
However, you object, Sol / Earth doesn't have enough metal to build the 10,000-sized ships, how could they build ships ten times that size?
That raises the question: why aren't all the Bobs on Scutnet (spelling? I listen to the audiobooks) building ships? If they are in a system and the materials available, then they could build a ship; fill it with the materials to build more ships; send the ship full of materials to Earth guided by an AI; then repeat the process. If they are not in a system, then they should go to a system with metals and get to work.
If the average Bob is 18 light years from Earth and it takes him 2 years to build the ship and fill it with (let's say) 4 ships' worth of materials -- and 5 Bobs are doing that -- that's in effect 5 ships every other year --after the initial 20 years. If Riker / Earth doesn't have the capacity to use the materials, then the remote Bobs would build more ships instead of filling them with materials.
The number of ships available for moving people off of Earth would increase rapidly. 5 Bobs making a ship every year:
Year 1: 5 new ships, start for Earth Year 2: 5 new ships, "" ... Year 18: 5 new ships arrive Year 19: 5 new ships "" ...
After 30 years, there would be 115 ships, plus whatever Riker managed to build during that period.
If they each hold 100,000 colonists, with 115 ships we're down to 130 trips.
If the remote Bobs have plenty of metal in their system, they could ramp up their production capacity and soon start sending 2 ships per year, 3 ships, 5 ships, etc. They would make the usual trade-off between adding capacity and producing ships.
There's no reason to limit colonial ship production to just Earth.
Bad segue
At several points in the book, Bobs fail when they try to send incremental backups. They are blown up before the entire backup is sent off. Each time, it is presented as a tragedy -- like now that unfortunate Bob is dead.
Nonsense.

• Why aren't Bobs sending incremental backups all the time? Esp. once Bobs are SCUT-enabled, they could squirt today's activities daily. It is an incredibly obvious thing to do, when they are doing anything remotely dangerous.
  
• Why is it supposed to be a tragedy, when an incremental backup is lost because the Bob was destroyed mid-squirt? All that is lost is the stuff since the last completed incremental. If a Bob did an incremental last week, he loses a week. Hardly a tragedy.
  

Luke, I heard that you got destroyed a few weeks ago. Bummer.

Luke replies:

Nah, it's no big deal, I lost a few days. I did manage to broadcast how I got killed, so I won't make that mistake again. Otherwise, no big deal.

First thing first, I’m a mechanic but the vehicle isn’t near me. I assume it isn’t a fuse due to the clock still showing.
Is this a common thing on these vehicles? Is the radio dead or is there something I should know? I won’t see the vehicle until this weekend.

I've been holding off on getting SF6 because I needed to get paid. I heard that there's some kind of battle pass in the game too. How much does it cost and what kind of content is in it? Are there costumes or colors for the main fighters in there? How much do you need to grind to unlock everything? I'm usually not a FOMO bitch with this kind of stuff, but I don't mind working towards something if I'm gonna be playing the game anyways.

I shouldn’t have taken a sh!t ton of Benadryl at once. Well, i did.
i only took 400mg (seen reports of people who took 1000 mg)
First thing i did was walk back into my room (i got the pills from my moms bathroom)
It kicked in pretty fast.
it first felt like the world was filtered and it kept getting brighter then dimmer. I felt super tired and sinking in my bed, i couldn’t move a muscle for my life (i was so lazy)
In the corner of my eyes there were these flashing lights, almost like lightning bolts
Not long after that, i started seeing little black bugs, looked like fruit flies. These fruit flies were flying around in my room, there were hundreds of them.
One would occasionally fly into me or into my ear (i actually felt them in my ear it was crazy)
There was a black dot on the painting in my room from a marker
I noticed the black dot crawling up and to the side, i couldn’t tell if it was a real bug or not
it would jump off the painting in a downward motion just like a fly would, then it would reset back to the same spot on the painting.
I kept seeing shadows out the corners of my eyes which scared the absolute crap out of me.
The weirdest part was that i kept daydreaming and actually thinking i was at my school, totally forgetting i was in my room. I was convinced i was in class until i remembered i was in my room.
i didn’t physically hallucinate my math teacher at my desk, but my brain apparently thought he was sitting at my desk. I was hearing him talk to me, that’s was an auditory hallucination, I was having a full blown conversation with him until i realized nobody was there
I have this empty fish tank in my room, there was this giant wasp crawling around in it. This giant wasp was crawling around on the drift wood and the sand, it looked so real
I kept seeing this translucent figure crawling into my room through my window (which was closed)
I felt like i was dory from finding Nemo. Whenever i’d text a friend i’d forget what i was typing
I would keep hearing knocking at my door and my name being called by members of my family
I felt heavy as a rock, i was too lazy to move a muscle. When i finally decided to plug my phone in, i dropped the cord of the charger and heard a voice coming from one of my dead friends (died a long time ago) I was responding and talking to him thinking there was someone there. I don’t exactly remember what the conversation was about
DONT TRIP ON BENADRYL IT MAKES YOU GO CRAZY AND FORGET WHERE YOU ARE. I KEPT THINKING I WAS AT SCHOOL

I need to just get these words out, and I can only trust in doing it here. I hate my life. I hate living, and I hate how much I know i need to do for it. i graduated college over a year ago, making myself unemployable because i haven't been able to get a job, and can't trust any of the methods i've been trying. careerbuilder and Linkedin have given me nothing but scams and jobs that turned me away after just one interview. usajobs, i've applied to a few, using Schedule A, and that was over a year and a half ago, and still nothing. autism and depression are going at my mind in these circumstances like wolves after a dead elk.
I can't trust any method, and worst of all, I simply don't want to. i know i have to, i just can't stop being scared of having to do it, even though I know it's the only way I can be with my girlfriend, who is a very long way away from me, and the only way i can make my parents happy, so they don't get sick of me and just kick me out. it always feels like I have to justify my own existence, and i'm not good enough at anything to justify that. even the idea of looking for a job, the idea of doing anything even like that twists my guts into knots, and makes my head and neck twitch. I'm too scared of taking a step forward to even call an insurance company to set up an account, something I need to do for a prescription.
it feels like the only reasons I haven't just killed myself yet are "there's no method that will guarantee it and won't hurt like hell" and "it would hurt my girlfriend", I don't know how I get help, how to ask for it, or what help I even need, and I can't stop my stupid, worthless brain from obsessing over video games, movies, and other nerd timewasters. I just want to be happy, and that seems impossible now.
I don't know what would help that I could even realistically ask for...

Hello, I apologize for bringing this up again in a new post, as I know there have been other threads discussing the same thing. The first one that came up in my Google search was two years old.
So, I'm now beginning to level in Shadowlands for my first time through these zones. The game quest-chained me directly to the Kyrian "afterlife".
So, the first thing I notice, is that things "die" here, like, a lot, often by my own hand. And, the place has historically come under attack from the Void realm, before the time of the current Shadowlands crisis, and many souls "died" in those wars defending Bastion.
So, what is happening here? Do "souls" in the Shadowlands just get used as anima energy after they "die" for the second time?
My current hypothesis is that the whole realm is just like the Emerald Dream/Nightmare. It doesn't really exist as anything but the last neural firings of a dying brain. Of course, that wouldn't explain how the living Maw-Walker PC winds up there, or how entities from there can kidnap living Alliance and Horde leaders into that realm. If they were "Emerald-dreaming", then their physical bodies should still exist on the material plane.
I wonder if the whole attempt at a fantasy afterlife cosmology here doesn't suffer from the same "failure to think it through" problems that real life religions that believe in an afterlife suffer from . And for the record, I don't believe for one minute there's any such thing as an "afterlife" in real life. I think people make up the whole thing in their religions because people struggle to deal with death and loss. It's a fantasy in real life, maybe a delusional one, as far as I'm concerned. It's magical thinking, which is a psychiatric symptom to be pitied and treated in any other context but religion.
But I digress. I'm trying to come up with a head-canon that enables me to enjoy these beautiful new-to-me zones without constantly having my suspension of disbelief strained to the breaking point.
My first thought would be that if you're a dead soul in the Shadowlands, in whatever realm of it, if you fight and die, then you just wake up again from your point of view, either in some other form, or just relocated to yet another battle. If your anima gets consumed to power the place, you're just gone. It's non-existence, oblivion, which is what death is supposed to be anyway. Although that begs the question, why does the place exist at all? Why not have dead souls powering the material universe with no need for any "afterlives" at all? That would be closer to what may be happening in real life, according to Eastern religions, if indeed we are more than our physical consciousness in any way, although I doubt that, too.

Hello! I know this might be an odd and nebulous question, but allow me to give some context. Ever since I was little, I was interested in a career in either politics or law. I was raised in your stereotypical Black and liberal household. So I always thought that either politics or law within the American system would be the only vehicles to implement positive change for African American rights and for America more broadly. My grandparents, who were active in the Civil Rights movement, pointed to that movement and the election of Barack Obama as testaments to that idea.
However, as I have gotten older, I have become increasingly more left and socialist leaning and disillusioned from the American political system. At 15, after witnessing the downfall of Bernie's campaign after being the only supporter of him in my family and school, I became disillusioned. But, when it was time to go to college, I still had an inkling of hope, so I majored in Political Science hoping to affect change a la "AOC and the Squad" style. However, I emphatically hated my experience in Political Science and I actively reject that degree. The Poli Sci department, unsurprisingly, is so entrenched in pro-capitalist and pro-imperial propaganda that anytime I would provide even the slightest pushback in class discussions and assignments, I'd be met with outrageous pushback from both fellow classmates and professors. Around the same time as this was happening, I witnessed Bernie's 2020 campaign fall again, in addition to me also realizing that even a Bernie presidency in this imperial waste bin wouldn't undo the horrors of American capitalism. Not to sound like a doomer, but these experiences have solidified my overall nihilism and pessimism.
So what does all of that have to do with my question? Well, I've recently graduated college and I am looking for something to do with my life, as I have given myself a gap year to figure out. Given my experiences with Political Science, I do not to work for any sort of political related job, such as campaigning or consulting, especially under the current two party system. While I am sympathetic to 3rd Party causes, I am extremely doubtful that engaging in electoral politics will illicit any type of success. I've considered going into law, as that was my original passion. After all, I did intern at the local public defender's office in my college's county. However, after witnessing the state of affairs of the "justice" system when it comes to disadvantaged groups, this career option makes me more pessimistic about being able to affect change. I don't want to take thousands of dollars of debt to go to law school, just to be crushed by a system that inherently makes it impossible to help innocent people. I've even considered going into transit policy, as rail and urban design are considered my hobbies. But if you look at the state of affairs of urban policy in America, it is yet another dead end situation that is inherently built in a way that prevent progress, as this country is car-dependent and pro-NIMBY.
In summary, I want to work in a career field that I feel like I can affect the most positive and meaningful change. I truly want to do something that will make the world (or at least my community) a better place. I am still figuring out my full ideology, but I sure as hell know its not the neoliberal status quo. I am facing so much pressure from my family to just "sell out" and do something comfortable or something that makes me rich like being a political consultant or a business lawyer. But I would literally off myself if I sold my soul and abandoned my principles like that. On the other side, there are areas that I am interested in and passionate about. But given the inherent obstacles within the capitalistic and imperial system, I feel like I would not be able to accomplish any meaningful change. I've been so weary and cynical about my place in this world, and I wanted to see if any other socialists here have been in similar situations and could provide advice on how to resolve this contradiction.

I’m one game away from smashing every computer so I never experience the absolute creatures that play in my games they are the most brain dead people ever who can’t walk away from enemies after getting a kill or if they are outnumbered to wait for backup

Before I begin my rant, let me just say that the main game is amazing. I am in love with it. However, the single-player mode makes my blood pressure go up.
I swear to God, World Tour is the worst thing that has happened to single-player fighting game campaigns since Kronika was introduced in MK11.
Let me list a few things I actually liked: The beginning was fun, character creation is ridiculous, but god, it's hilarious. The first time fighting new types of opponents was pretty interesting, and I had a few chuckles over fighting fridges, I also love the fact that when you start a fight with someone on the street the background becomes the place you were in, small thing but I really liked it.
Now, back to the negatives: The person who designed the fighting parts of World Tour deserves to be attacked by wild Roomba Cleaners. The open-world part of the game is pretty cool, but the moment a fight (mind you, THE THING THE GAME IS SUPPOSED TO BE ALL ABOUT) starts, it goes from cool to fucking obnoxious. Group Fights: you fight multiple opponents who either a) spam you with projectiles or b) rush and grab you, IN 3 FUCKING PEOPLE. The fact that the side the character is facing (which affects special moves that will come out) gets changed every 3 seconds when surrounded makes it so you can't reliably execute specials, WHICH INFURIATES ME. And then, the machines appear. These annoying fucking drones, Roombas, and fridges—I wholeheartedly believe that they were DESIGNED to tilt the player. These twats can't be attacked half the time because of their shitty hitboxes, WHILE they fly/dash all over the field and deal a shit ton of damage (ESPECIALLY the missile drones).
1v1 Fights, on the other hand, aren't particularly bad design-wise, one small issue tho. WHY DO AAAAAAALLL OF THEM GOTTA HAVE HP TWICE AS LARGE AS MINE AND DEAL MORE DAMAGE EVEN IF WE'RE ON THE SAME LEVEL???
And that's the part that I hate the most. This mode was designed (I assume) to be finished in a month of slow progress. The problem is that it's not worth prolonging over a long period of time. Want an open-world game with fighting and AN ACTUAL WELL-WRITTEN PLOTLINE? Play Yakuza.
But it is designed that way, and because of that, you gotta grind the shit out of levels to even have the slightest chance of defeating any enemies past lvl 30. And it's awful. Like, I wanna finish the game and unlock costume 2 for JP. Not so fast, dummy! First, grind for two days, reach level 55 MINIMUM, and collect at least 50 healing drinks, and then you might have a minuscule chance of beating the game. And if you don't want to grind? Screw you, go buy 'em skins for actual money.
I feel like this game mode was created just to troll the player. Funny enemies become annoying enemies, wacky group fights become infuriating in the middle of the playthrough, in solo fights you either have an unreal level and pots or cheese the enemy with a few attacks and beg that the AI (which is weird tbh) won't react to it.
Like, c'mon. Why didn't they just make it into an actual open-world campaign where you played as one of the main cast members? Then all the fights would be more manageable, and you could still put some silly enemies into it. And the fights would've been consistent.
Idk, I'm stuck at the last chapter, and I don't feel like grinding for another day.

The end of days has come to Man,
the last Elf's sailed West.
Each Dwarven clan instead began
to weather this final test.

Between the mountains roam the Dead.
Beneath each hides a home.
Those few bred with the courage to tread
outside must go alone.

Such a dwarf is called a Runner.
Such a life is short but brave.
Each message he must deliver
even if it's from the grave.

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Game is Play By Post on Discord and Roll20. I work 7 days a week at my computer and only have random awkward amounts of free time. I'm looking for a handful of players willing to try out a new system and who enjoy roleplay, writing, and storytelling as much as combat. Please contact me at Puppet#9945 for an immediate response, or send me a DM/chat here for a much slower response.
The Last Holds asks the question: What if the zombie apocalypse, but dwarves? Set in the one of the few surviving Mountainhomes, it explores stories of survival and community as the players explore the world and gradually ascend in position within the fortress or perhaps try to start their own fledgling hold.
This campaign uses a homebrew dice pool system with crunchy combat and player-driven skill resolutions. It also uses the setting of Brazenthrone for beautiful maps and a fully fleshed out dwarven society with a .pdf that players can refer to for lore.
For PBP, it is good to set some expectations:

1. Please only apply if you are a fluent English speaker with proficient grammar and punctuation. I'm not going to gatekeep writing ability to join or kick anyone out for bad writing, but I can only handle so much pyschic damage before I lose consciousness.
2. There is no minimum post length, especially for active scenes. 1-3 lines is fine for scenes and skill test prompts, but 1-3 paragraphs is preferred for story posts. As a GM, I will be posting multipara as appropriate.
3. The game is divided into scenes and story. A scene is any situation where other player characters cannot freely participate, such as a conversation, a fight, a dungeon, etc. Any post that isn't part of a scene is just advancing the story. If you notice that are part of a scene, please try to post at least a couple times a day or otherwise take the initiative to resolve the scene by using the game mechanics. To put it another way, you will never be forced to have a 20-post dialogue with an NPC. At any time, you have the agency to attempt to resolve the scene with a roll and advance the story.

How to join: 1. Send me a message on discord. 2. Confirm that you can post something roughly every day. 3. Join the server and look around. 4. Make a character on roll20. 5. Join VC and talk to me about how to play the system for ~40 minutes. 6. Introduce your character into the RP with ~2 paragraphs. 7. If these steps aren't carried out in a reasonable time frame, I'll bump you for someone else.
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I don't know if it's intimidating or inviting, but I'll post the opening scene where we will introduce our characters and get on with the campaign. Remember that there is no minimum post length and no one that joins is expected to write a novel!
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Deep in the granite heart of the Blackcap Mountains, nestled between the corpse nations of Thrane and Breland, hide the last of the dwarves. Brazenthrone is a sprawling labyrinth of fortified stone, its honeycomb of streets lit by the amber glow of pressurized lava and its oldest bas-reliefs depicting firsthand the birth of civilization. It is only fitting that a people who bore witness to the start of the world should now bear witness to its end.
Fifteen thousand souls crowd its ancient halls, stubborn stewards of a dying mountain. Old Quarter sits sealed, and the distant moans of its countless dead grow louder every year. Anvil Quarter lies eerily silent, and no one knows when the slumbering crucibles of the Oreworks will wake again. Freeholder’s Hall tends to two dozen different species of mushroom that all taste vaguely the same. When the blight that rots the forests seeps deep enough into the earth, there will be nothing left to eat and everyone will starve.
But our story doesn’t start in Brazenthrone. It starts in the basement of a winery on the edge of a mountain overlooking the Silver Sea. The sweet air has for so long been so damp with the fumes of grape that the wood of the only door leading into this room is soft to the touch. It bows like rubber to the pressure of the half-dozen dead pressing against it. An arm with a broken elbow grasps wildly through the gap. Like the soft bones of the zombies, this door will not splinter. It will tear any second now…
…regardless of whether or not the dwarf takes his shoulder off it. It’s no wonder everyone is shouting. They’re all about to die.

Past new light that rocked people’s world was not being able to celebrate Christmas any longer or smoke a cigarette. The sheep were allowed a certain amount of time to fall in line with the new light or be disfellowshipped.
Fast forward to the last several decades. We never have ground breaking shit like that happen. I want them to really fuck over the faithful. Like not allowing anyone to watch anything on public TV because it’s Satans tool. Not allowing anyone to drink caffeine because it’s a drug. Not allowing anyone to watch football because it’s violent. Not allowing vacations because it’s not putting a priority on the urgent preaching work, because Noah wouldn’t go on vacations right?
I want them to wake so many up with a huge ass change. They are fucking cowards and never come up with anything like the olden days. They have always gone beyond the things that are written, so why not the fuck now? Let’s do this Governing Body fuckwads!

Books sat all around the Choir, who were mental hospital patients magically shaped as ravens. I was the first to take human form, as my raven's eye spotted what I hoped was ours. It was one book among many, but it was also Circe's diary. As a man I could thumb the pages.
I frowned, realizing it was just a record of all of her lovers. An impressive body count of seventy-seven, I noted her notation on the last page. Then a chill ran through my blood. The sorcerer in me knew something about them.
"Cory, what sort of magic can be divided into parts, among lovers?" I asked.
"I have no idea, my Lord." Cory looked at the book. "A diary?"
"Yes. Circe's diary, but I suspect it is more than that. She had a second use for these creeps. I bet we could find something." I decided. The fortunate find was only a promise. I had no idea if there was useful magic or not. Whatever magic she had hidden would be worth hiding, obviously.
The others shambled past me and Cory in their open straight jackets and bathrobes and hospital gowns. They had all sorts of weapons: clubs, a broken bottle, a claw pincher and an uzi. I had my staff, carved from the unstable and formless magic between worlds into a proper weapon.
We needed our weapons, dried zombies stood in our way, shuffling among the books. Magical slaves, living corpses. They were still dangerous and had to be destroyed.
For a moment the dead stood in our path, their eyes shimmering blankly in the shadows. They regarded us, the intruders, then began to shuffle towards us. I felt a chill of revulsion at the sight of corpses walking and gagged on their stench. I'd seen far worse, but one never truly gets used to such things.
A loud rapid clapping noise and the merry tinkle of bullet casings erupted from the uzi. It was pretty ineffective. The rest of the Choir brandished their weapons and strode forward like the maniacs they were. Even Scarlet was in the mood to kill something and she tore apart more than one of the shambling dead.
She looked at me and I caught a gleam in her eye of psychotic delight. Some nervous feeling always rose up in me since the first time I had met her. Somehow the shift from a helpless hitchhiker to a hook handed murderer always caught me off guard.
When we'd finished killing the dead we sorted our way out from the books. We had come in through the open window of the room of the manor that held so many books. I'd noticed the old diary right away and begun to read it while the ravens shifted from void travelers to humans.
Time seemed distorted. How things played out always felt surreal as we partially entered entirely different worlds than our own. There was always a dreamlike perspective, as though I were merely an actor under observation rather than a participant. I often had to remind myself of the grim reality I was trapped in.
I had lost count of the rare artifacts we had stolen for Aureus and the worlds we had invaded and brought death and horror to. I loathed all of it, feared there was no salvation after my numerous misdeeds. What choice did I have?
I led the Choir through the manor, watching myself do so.
There were other servants, just as ghoulish as the dried zombies. We killed everything we met until we got to the master bedroom. The safe was too big to take with us.
"Cater?" I asked our safecracker. She was also totally nuts. Her wild eyes rolled around and beheld the safe as though pretending she hadn't noticed it. Her fake response of joy wasn't really fake, she was actually happy.
"Gots." She whispered and went to work on the safe. The Choir stood around breathing too loudly for her and drooling. Eventually she got it open and took out the green gem. It sparkled evilly. Circe's Emerald.
"Let's go." I said and we all returned to the books and found the ġedwimor was shimmering visibly where we could revert to ravens that could fly home. We leapt through it and into flight. Our rave cast the shadow of one great bird. The magics welcomed us, living and enchanted creatures that we were, and insane. Across worlds and time we flew back to our home.
At Dellfriar we arrived. Except I had finally found my way out. Aureus somehow knew before I did that I held the key to my escape. It was in Circe's Diary that the clue existed. There was more to her spell than turning the enlightened into ravens.
I dreamed of the unkindness of ravens watching me. Cory asked me in the dream:
"How many pigs are on her island?"
I began to count them and I took a step with each number. By the seventy-seventh step I was asleep again, within the dream. I looked at my sleeping form in the dreamscape, surrounded by pigs and watched by ravens. I was looking down from a great distance, it suddenly seemed, and then I was looking up from far below.
"Where are we?" I asked Cory. I stared at my crow and he seemed to be smiling. It was the dream that made it seem so.
"Seventy-seven steps to the bottom, my Lord." Cory advised me. "And each must be counted."
"Those were pigs." I pointed out.
"Pigs that were once men. Each of them descended further, marking a fraction of the way. Love is a journey, a dreamy journey, ever downwards." Cory chirped.
"What about the exact number?" I wondered. To a crow, numbers were more symbolic than literal.
"It's just a number of stairs leading into the dream lands. It means nothing." Cory sounded playful. Cory had learned that numbers were literal to humans. It amused him that I was confused.
"But the number of Circe's lovers?" I asked.
"Of course, they are permanently under her control. They made a bargain, surrendering their bodies. Each of them counts as the descent to the bottom. Their blood and hers is mixed. The blood of her lover's, her blood, they are helpless to her will." Cory explained. I was glad I had read so many books with my crow that we both knew the answers when we met in Dream.
"Where is she?" I sat up from the blue clouds and looked around. As I focused I found I was on an island. What I imagined Circe's prison to look like.
Someone spoke to me:
"You use my spell on yourself. A wereraven, part of a rave of lunatics just like yourself. You have stolen my emerald?" I heard the soft voice of a delicate female. I turned around and saw her there. She was staring at me, her eyes looked curious and a little hurt.
"I stole it for Aureus. They're making a weapon, and your emerald is a suitable component." I explained.
"Aureus?" Circe seemed somehow both amused and irritated at-once. "Neither a man nor a woman. Neither a human nor a creature of magic. Not a young soul nor an old one."
"The same." I sighed in sympathetic exasperation.
"You work for me now. You will steal my emerald from this weapon. You will seal Aureus in a moment stolen from the wheel upon which the ages turn. A moment among the aeons that never was and never will be." Circe smiled strangely for me. I sensed that to her victims she seemed irresistible. I found her charms to be crocodilian.
"You are right." I agreed with her. "We have searched for a long time for a way to defeat Aureus."
"Was the answer..." Circe started to ask a question and then paused for emphasis: "Right in front of you all along?"
"We thought that dying might be the answer. If we were dead we couldn't serve Aureus." Cory sounded cheerful and perky, like he was telling a very funny joke.
"Life." Circe swore. "Life is the answer. You are life from me. You wield my powers with ease, Greatson." Circe's smile looked maternal. It occurred to me that I was immune to her charms because I was her descendant only after I heard her say those words.
"You're my Lord's ancestor?" Cory cleverly surmised. "No wonder he is so valuable to Aureus. I thought it was strange that such a powerful sorcerer required help from my Lord!" Cory cawed with hilarity. The revelation held layers of humor for my crow, who felt like explaining further: "You know, because it is so funny. My Lord would be the last choice of most competent magic users. We've routinely made mistakes that could only be made during the hour that is reserved for amateurs!"
Circe tried to hide her amusement. "I'm sure my Greatson is learning. Even I managed to make a few embarrassing mistakes in my youth."
"Really?" I asked.
"No." Circe smiled. "I'm just trying to make you feel better."
"We shall know the plan?" I interrupted. Circe was standing before me, the short distance between us meant nothing in Dream. She looked serious as she drew upon my eyelids. I could watch her do so with my eyes closed.
Then I awoke in the dream I had descended from. I was again among the pigs and the ravens. From there I shook myself awake in the real world. For a moment I was tempted to shake myself again. Fear that I might wake up in a higher place from which I wouldn't be able find sleep made me hesitate.
"Do you recall the dream we have had, my Lord?" Cory asked.
"About Circe being my great grandma? With a few more 'greats'?" I answered rhetorically.
"Yes. She put a spell on you. Can you see anything that you couldn't?" Cory asked.
I blinked and looked around. For just an instant, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Aureus somewhere else in Dellfriar and busy with the artifact's assembly. Several components were still missing - though.
The theft of Circe's Emerald and the escape from Dellfriar had many outcomes. There is only one that I survived. Only one version that can be reassembled from the chaos of so many worlds collapsing inward, so many realities becoming undone. Circe was right, it was only life - the deepest magic I knew of.
Inspiration came with my new perception. I could see the path ahead of me. I could see that there was only one version in which I survived and escaped. If I had done anything differently, the butterflies of death would have touched me.
I saw the window of opportunity and I knew every step I had to take. I took my bag and my staff, collecting the implements of my magical heists into the bag. I clicked my tongue and my crow alighted upon my shoulder.
With a cunning plan in mind, I ventured into the heart of Aureus's lair alone. The dimly lit chamber was filled with intricate machinery and arcane devices. I could sense the pulsating energy of Circe's Emerald, beckoning to me from its secure pedestal.
Taking utmost care to avoid detection, I stealthily maneuvered through the labyrinthine corridors, relying on my years at Dellfriar as a master thief. The shadows embraced me, concealing my presence from any wandering guards or surveillance systems that may have kept sentinel.
As I reached the chamber, I surveyed the room for any potential traps or alarms. It seemed Aureus had grown complacent, perhaps underestimating the audacity of a lone infiltrator. With a wry smile, I knew this was my moment to strike.
Silently, I approached the pedestal housing the emerald. It radiated a mesmerizing glow, casting ethereal patterns on the walls. Carefully, I retrieved a set of specialized tools from my bag: a combination of lockpicks and arcane implements.
I began to work my way through the security measures protecting Circe's Emerald. Each lock and enchantment posed a challenge, but my skilled hands moved with precision and finesse. The emerald's aura seemed to dance in anticipation, as if recognizing the touch of someone who understood its power.
Minutes stretched into eternity as I delicately dismantled the final obstacle. With a soft click, the emerald was finally free from its confinements. Holding it delicately in my gloved hand, I could feel the vibrant energy coursing through my fingertips.
But my mission was not yet complete. I had to make my escape undetected, evading any Choir or enchantments that may lie in my path. The emerald, now securely concealed within a specially crafted case, remained a beacon of power.
Slinking through the shadows, I retraced my steps, navigating the treacherous corridors with the precision of a phantom. Every movement was calculated, every sound muffled, ensuring that my presence went unnoticed.
As I emerged from the depths of Aureus's lair, a surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins. I had accomplished what seemed impossible: an audacious heist of Circe's Emerald from under the nose of a powerful adversary.
With the emerald secured, I vanished into the night, leaving no trace of my daring feat behind. The power of Circe's Emerald now resided in my possession, a relic of immense potential. Its fate, and the choice of how to wield its formidable magic, rested solely in my hands.
Little did Aureus or The Choir suspect that their plans had been quietly usurped. The heist had been a success, an act of cunning and skill that would alter the course of their intricate dance. In the shadows, I contemplated my next move, knowing that the emerald would grant me the power to shape destiny itself.
As I reached the top of the castle, a gust of wind tousled my hair, carrying with it the whispered echoes of Aureus's approach. I could sense their presence, their energy tinged with frustration and anger. It was clear they had discovered the theft of Circe's Emerald and were now in hot pursuit.
Just as I was about to invoke the ancient spell, the very same one that had allowed Circe's spellbound to transform into ravens and traverse the realms, Aureus materialized before me. Their form exuded an aura of authority and power, yet beneath the surface, I could sense their desperation.
"You dare to steal from me?" Aureus's voice reverberated with a mix of fury and disbelief. "That emerald holds powers beyond your comprehension. Return it to me now, and perhaps I shall spare your wretched existence."
I stood on the edge of the castle, the vast expanse stretching out before me. Time and space awaited, ready to be conquered by the wings of the raven. With unwavering resolve, I met Aureus's gaze and spoke with conviction.
"The emerald has chosen a new path, away from your grasp," I declared, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "Its power will not be wielded by your hands, for it belongs to a greater purpose."
Aureus's expression twisted into a mixture of rage and desperation. Their outstretched hand reached for me, a last-ditch effort to prevent my escape. But I was quicker, fueled by the magic I now possessed.
With a swift motion, I uttered the incantation, and my form transformed into that of a raven. Wings extended, I took flight, the wind carrying me away from the clutches of Aureus. The space between worlds beckoned, an ethereal gateway to new realms and infinite possibilities.
As I soared through the threshold, I glanced back, witnessing Aureus's desperate grasp falling short. Their fingers brushed against the empty air, and with a cry of frustration, they plummeted into the void, disappearing into the abyss between worlds.
In that fleeting moment, I felt a mixture of triumph and sadness. Aureus, once a formidable adversary, now lost in the vast unknown. But my purpose lay beyond their reach, and I knew that I carried the weight of Circe's legacy upon my wings.
Across worlds and time, I journeyed, guided by the whispers of ancient knowledge and the power of the emerald. As I soared through realms, I vowed to protect its magic, to wield it for the greater good, and to ensure that Aureus would never threaten the balance again.
The adventure had only just begun, and I embraced the uncertainty that lay ahead. With the wind beneath my wings, I charted a course through the tapestry of existence, carrying Circe's legacy forward, and leaving Aureus to face the consequences of their insatiable hunger for power in the ever-shifting space between worlds.
"We have but one flight, there will be no way back to Dellfriar when we land." Cory interrupted my musings. "Where are we going?"
I smiled at the question, for it was obvious. Cory was always there, upon my shoulder. For me there was somewhere I wanted to be:
"We are going home."

Last week I (43F) responded to a commenter who posited that casual sex isn’t worth the effort for straight women.. I disagreed under the premise that securing access to free, reliable casual sex is much easier for straight women than straight men, so there is a much higher return on investment. On the other hand, the men that I hook up with are attractive, cool guys and seem to have almost no luck in securing regular access to casual sex outside of a romantic relationship despite spending a lot of time working the apps and chatting with women.
Yesterday four of my FWBs reached out to each do something really nice for me, only one of which was even sexual. They inspired me to share a few reasons why I prefer FWB sex over relationship sex. Of course, if you aren’t currently in a relationship, the only option to casual sex is no sex. [I use the term “sex” to refer to partnered sex though, although I also enjoy frequent masturbation.]
The opposition to casual sex for women seems to hinge on the assumption that men who enjoy casual sex are selfish lovers who don’t care about their partner’s satisfaction. That hasn’t been my experience. I’ve never had a casual sex partner decline a suggestion I made to help bring me to orgasm. New partners almost always ask me for feedback after the first time. Most men don’t seem to inherently know how to bring me to orgasm but are eager and willing once I demonstrate technique.
I engage in casual sex through dating apps, so we’ve always discussed safe sex, boundaries, preferences, positions, etc. beforehand. I get a chance to make my expectations and desires clear before we even meet and weed out candidates who don’t share the same outlook. I don’t typically get into these detailed descriptions with people I start dating until after we’ve had sex.
Some of the benefits of FWB sex for me:
- The point of the relationship is sex, so it’s easier to be direct about your needs and wants. There is far less fear of hurting your partner’s ego or ruining the relationship.
- It can be easier to be kinky or ask for anything out of the “norm” without fear of judgment.
- There is a limited “relationship” to interfere with access or quality of sex. We rarely fight or have anything to be resentful about. I never have to apologize for something I’ve done or get into a discussion about past wrongs just to get laid.
- Your partners have to bring their A game most of the time or the sexual relationship ends. In a romantic relationship, partners can get away with being lazy or selfish over a long period of time because they know it’s difficult for their SO to end the sexual relationship or replace them with a new lover.
- There is no concept of maintenance sex, duty sex, or dead bedrooms. If one person isn’t feeling it, we cancel. I nearly always feel desired, happy and satisfied after every encounter. My partners express feeling the same.
- Sex is always a stress-reliever! The men I enjoy sex with are completely unrelated to my domestic life full of work, kids, financial responsibilities and housework. With marital sex, you have sex with the same person you associate with domestic stress. Sex itself can become stressful and it’s easy to start thinking about it like a chore.
- Having multiple partners to choose from lowers the pressure on any one individual to meet all of your needs. My needs can be met constructively over the course of any given weekend, even if one or two efforts are less than spectacular. I’m never resentful or in a slump because I’m sexually frustrated.
- I can have sex with much more attractive men on a casual basis. FWB #3 (25M) has the most chiseled abs I have ever seen on a live human being and 9-inch dick that he actually knows how to use. He tells me he’s an IG model but I’m not on IG to verify (and don’t care lol). There is no universe where this man would be interested in a serious relationship with me and vice-versa.
TLDR: While the negative aspects are commonly discussed, what are some of the benefits of casual sex over relationship sex?

Hey all, in need of some advice. Might be a bit of a long one here:
Also a brief warning, some pretty graphic depictions of violence below. Read at your own risk.
So a player in my campaign is playing a ‘Noble assassin’ style PC. They are from a secret organisation where their sole mission is to depose tyrants. They try to do so via legal means first (like exposing their crimes) but are not above murder as a last resort. They also place great emphasis on the self-preservation of the group, and they will not hesitate to murder ‘innocents’ if they risk exposing the organisation.
Now over the last few sessions, the party has been trying to gather evidence to depose a tyrannical lord who has been drugging his population to keep them obedient. However, while attempting to steal some of this evidence, the party was caught by some of the noble’s guards and one of the other PCs was killed. In a fit of rage, the PC tortured one of the two surrendered guards and burnt them alive, threatening to do the same to his wife and child. The second prisoner, at witnessing this, said they would be more than happy to testify against the lord who was drugging his people. However, he would also speak out about the PCs torture of a prisoner. After hearing this, the PC claimed the organisation’s safety was at risk (even though they weren’t acting under the direction of this organisation, but instead another Lord) and executed the prisoner.
Since then, other members of the party (and NPC members of his own organisation) have made it clear that they felt he went too far and he only killed the second prisoner for his own sake, not the organisations. Whilst I feel this would be a really interesting conflict for his PC, where he would have to contemplate his true morals, the player is adamant that his character has done nothing wrong. It got to the point where he was getting genuinely confused as to why other players weren’t happy with his characters actions. I’ve attempted to explain both in and out of character how his actions could be interpreted as evil and he still isn’t convinced.
Next session, I intend for his character to be faced with a choice. The good lord could depose the tyrant with the evidence collected, but could only do so if they punished the PC for their crimes (meaning they would likely have to switch characters), or they could pardon them, but in doing so being forced to abandon the evidence to convict the tyrant. I feel this would be a great choice for his PC to have to make. Does he fulfill his organisations mission at the cost of his own life, or abandon his mission to stay alive. I’m just worried how the player will react, as he doesn’t even think his character has done wrong.
Is this ultimatum going too far? Any other ways I could go forward? everyone, both in and out of character, feels what he’s done is evil, but I feel bad for giving the player this option to kill his character, or make them publicly viewed as evil when they don’t understand what their character did was very morally dubious.

English isn't my first language, and during my teenage years and when I was younger, I didn't understand enough English to be able to read original classic books. We were also poor, so it didn't matter, but last year, I started to read because finally I have time and understanding.
I'm a total beginner and currently I'm going through the top 100. Jane Austen's Emma was just chilling in my house (an old gift from someone) so I read that first because it was Slice of life-ish and didn't have many major conflicts. Ended up loving it and proceeded to read all her books.
Now, like I said, I just started reading. Recently, I met a friend who I haven't seen in ages, and somehow the conversation turned to hobbies. I talked about recently picking up reading, and friend's husband eagerly asked me which authors I like to read. Since I haven't read that many, I just said that I recently finished Count of Monte Cristo, All of Jane Austen's books, Jane Eyre, 1984 etc.
He then kind of started laughing at me and it made me feel very self-conscious and like an idiot. I asked him why he was laughing, and he said that it was just such a generic answer, and that he can't imagine how I can say "reading is my hobby" (I didn't say that) if those are the only books I've read. He then asked me if I've ever read Ulysses and told me get recommendations from a different source :(
Now, I'm just left wondering if I'm doing something wrong. I know the books I'm reading are perhaps beginner books or whatever but I'm really enjoying it, and I thought I was doing something good for me, only for this guy to laugh at my efforts. Wtf. I'm just wondering, what is actually the answer to such a question? This has honestly made me dead-set on never mentioning reading to anyone ever at all. It was really disheartening. Now, I feel like a "fake" reader or something.
I mean, I'm just beginning. What does this guy expect from me? I have to start somewhere :( I can't just join an Olympic race without learning to walk first.