2014 Mini Cooper S
Every once in a while I'll get a check engine light and the car runs rough. If I turn it off and on again (maybe 2 or 3 times) it will run fine. The codes tell me it's a misfire on cylinder 1 and 4.
I've replaced the plugs and coils but it still does it. I'm going to try and clean the fuel injectors next.
Any other ideas? TIA

It was way back in the day when it all went down.
Going to my friend’s secluded cottage up north seemed like a good idea until the car wrapped around a tree in the middle of a raging fucking blizzard, twenty miles away from any civilization. I kept trying to convince my friends to stop at a hotel, but the driver and the owner of the car, my old college roommate Pat, kept brushing my concerns off as if the approaching snowstorm wasn’t even coming.
I bet he wished he had listened after the car crashed.
“Shit,” Homie said, pulling me out. “Anything broken?”
“No,” I answered.
The only other friend who was crazy enough to come with us, nicknamed Homie, a big ol' country boy, stood in front of the hood, inspecting the damage as best he could. Based on how smoke and sparks was coming out of the engine, we wouldn’t be able to turn it back on without assistance.
“Are the phones okay? We might be able to call for help.”
Pat showed us his phone, which had broken during the crash, and said, “Like hell, we can. We can’t stay in the car, and if we don’t want to freeze to death, we need to go somewhere to stay.”
He was right. The bumper in the front of the car was compressed from the impact, and after we had all gotten out, a very heavy tree branch had fallen on the roof of the car, crushing the metal into crumpled tinfoil. No way we were going to fit in that car. We were on a dirt road with woods surrounding us on both sides, and the closest town was two miles away.
The snow was heavily blowing down, and as unusual as it sounded, there was a heavy fog obscuring our vision.
“Well let’s at least get moving,” I said. “A crackhead or someone might live along the road.”
They didn’t argue. We put on our jackets, packed all the food and water we could carry, and we prepared to set off down the road, into a snowy abyss.
When Pat pulled out two guns from the trunk, I got confused.
“Why are you bringing the guns?”
I shouldn’t have even asked. When Pat went anywhere near the countryside, he carried at least two high-powered guns, because of an incident that happened a year ago. Pat closed the trunk and walked away, his shotgun in his arms with his revolver strapped to his side.
“There’s… creatures in these woods. I’ve seen them before. You can never be too safe.”
I knew better to question Pat. He was always a cautious, but extremely care-free and reckless dude who always paid attention to all the details around him.
“Alright. Looks like the fucking storm is blowing in hard.” I said.
And with that last comment, we began to walk down the road, searching for anything, anything that would indicate that a single person was out here. As luck would have it, the immense snowstorm was keeping everyone inside, if there were even people living all the way out here. To say that the cold was terrible was a vast understatement. We were only wearing light jackets and two layers of pants, and even that wasn’t enough to keep us warm, given that there was a very plausible chance of catching hypothermia.
“Shit, man. How far did we walk?” Homie asked, once our car was well out of sight.
“We’re not even close,” I said. “Just shut up and wait till we get there.”
“Guys.” It was Pat. His face looked pale as if he was retelling the horrible incident he had gone through a year ago.
So about a year ago, Pat had gone on a camping trip, alone in the woods behind his cottage. It was at the peak of the night when he heard something moving around outside his tent. Something big. When he looked outside, he saw something just beyond the treeline, and he could just make out that something’s silhouette. According to Pat, who almost never told lies or made-up stories, a thing was watching him. He remembered it very vividly. '
It was humanoid, but it wasn’t human. It was eight feet tall, extremely skinny, hairless, and it had antlers with an open head with several glowing orbs in the center. And after all this time, after everything, after all the nightmares, we were seeing the exact thing Pat had seen that night. Expect it was dead.
But it wasn’t just dead, it was mutilated.
Mangled.
The dead creature lay on its back on the side of the road, unmoving. The creature’s entire body was skinny and pale, and its head… was identical to a deer skull, complete with an impressive array of antlers, that were snapped and completely shattered.
One of the creature’s legs was ripped off, and it looked like something enormous had taken a bite out of its shoulder and stomach. The creature was eaten. Killed, by a horror we couldn’t even begin to fathom. And worst of all, the creature looked to be killed recently, with a blood trail heading into the woods. And based on how heavy the snow was falling, the creature would have had to be killed at least ten minutes ago, for the blood trail to not be covered by snow already.
“Holy shit, man,” Homie exclaimed. “Isn’t that the thing Pat saw last year?”
Pat sighed and gritted his teeth. “Yeah. It fucking is.”
I stared at the dead creature, and despite not wanting to know the truth of what really happened, I already knew. Something bigger had killed this thing.
“But something killed it. This thing is already huge, so what killed it must be… enormous...”
Pat looked away from the creature.
“It’s dead, we know. But something killed it, and it’s probably nearby. So I'm going to fuck it up.
I looked at the blood trail heading deep into the woods. Then as Pat walked alongside us, loading shells into his shotgun, we turned, and continued down the dark road.
CONNECTED MYTHOS
GET THE BOOK (NEW SEASIDE RELEASE)
MORE STORIES AND SERIES

Just pulled into the driveway after driving enough to get up to temp, shut it off to run some groceries inside before planning on heading back out. Went back to start the car up around 5 minutes later and it won’t turn over-not flooded. My steps/checks so far:

1. Cranks, battery is tested good with multimeter
2. 6ish month old starter with zero issues since install. Have not percussed it though.
3. new plugs and coil packs, knock and cam position sensor in the past year or two.
4. No dash lights or engine codes.
5. Little more than half a tank
6. can’t see enough to pull fuses at the moment
7. no obvious fluids, smells, or connection issues
8. don’t hear any relays clicking (not sure if this is a thing on this yeamodel)

My first thought was fuel pump but zero idea really…it’s never had an audible noise in the past and nothing sounds different now in that regard.
Ignition?
Any help on this is much appreciated. This thing has been babied and I’d love to keep it around for a while longer. Currently have a torn rotator cuff so my ability to turn wrenches and crawl around is minimal so hoping to at least narrow things down for the shop if it’s something I can’t handle at the moment.
Let me know if I can add onto anything. Thank y’all

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What was wrought here should be allowed to slip into slumber and sleep a dreamless sleep until entropy sips it away. - Former Grand Most High Sma'akamo'o, from I Have Ridden the Hasslehoff
Nice little mitochondria you got there, Biology.
Be a shame if something happened to it… - Terran Descent Humanity
The Dairy Queen is one of the Hamburger King's brides. A gift of tribute from The Mapleland Empire to the bloody tyrant of the Hamburger Kingdom. Her heart was cold but sweet and the Hamburger King put her in charge of the blizzards and winter storms of the Hamburger Kingdom.
The Dairy Queen is adored by Terrans everywhere, celebrated in song and dance, even through the worst winter storms. She is often depicted by carving ice into her likeness. She is shown smiling, dressed in finery made of frost and snow, and is known for her singing voice. She is often seen moving through storms and blizzards, her voice uplifted in song despite the chill.
The cold never bothered her anyway. - The Myths & Legends of Terra
We do not know who they were, only that they were here. They left behind great works, impossible machinery that once labored for unknowable purpose.
We know these Forerunners only as The Builders. - Kretark Press, 3285 Current Era
You don't get to judge the Devil and the War in Hell from the comfort of Heaven. - Doctor Jachike Pascel, Sailor Moon Sisterhood Project Decommissioning Commander AKA The Grave Watcher, 38 PG
The stellar system was repeated all over the universe. An energetic young star, a few gas giants, a debris ring, and barren rocky planets in various orbits. The number of planets and gas giants didn't matter, they were all virtually the same.
This one was in the middle of the Cygnus-Orion Galactic Arm Spur.
In the middle of what was known to the species capable of space travel as "The Long Dark." A band across the entire section of the spur that was barren of all life, with many of the stellar systems reduced to nothing but scattered gravel where planets once were, smears of gases from where gas giants had once been, and a single stellar mass.
This stellar system had not been reduced to gravel and wisps of gasses, but rather still had the few rocky planets and the trio of gas giants. The star was young, highly energetic, burning away merrily in a stellar signal that it existed. It was not alone, it had a brother, that it danced around in a slow twisting pattern, and they both burned with merry fire.
It had been like that for millions of years.
At one time there had been life. Not much, just a few simple algae and fungus, a few multicelled organisms. Not much, but the beginning of life.
But unliving things destroyed that life, leaving behind long life radiation, siphoning away water and atmosphere both.
The binary stars felt a slight bit of sadness at that, in the strange way inanimate balls of burning gasses could feel sadness.
Something new had arrived.
It was strange, and different.
The stars were dimly curious, watching the newcomers.
There were ten figures within a two light seconds of the binary stars, positioned in such a way that the polar stellar winds of both stars merged and washed over them. Several of them were terribly scarred, their faces and bodies mutely proclaiming that they had been severely injured, almost maimed, in the past. Despite their disfigurement and scarring they, like the unmarred, were inhuman in their perfection.
They were dressed strangely. Short skirts, leggings, short sleeve tops with bows on the front. They all held wands and blades, they all had long flowing hair. Behind them extended gauzy fields of whitish that reached out thousands of kilometers but did not block or cover any of the others. They looked vaguely wing-like, pearlescent energy that gathered in the stellar winds.
Resting in space, they were in the fetal position, their eyes closed, their hands tight around their weapons and wands.
They stayed that way for long days, asleep in a deep dreamless sleep.
They had sent out the call, and now waited on the one they had summoned.
A puff of purple particles, almost smoke-like, appeared above polar-north between the two binary stars. When it cleared a single figure stood in space as if it was standing on a flat surface. Ebony of skin, with long flowing white hair. Her face was haughty and cruel. She was dressed in scant wires of esoteric spooky particle metals that emulated the look of spiderwebs that only covered enough of her to hide her genitals and the nipples on the prominent mammaries.
She surveyed the worlds and gas giants slowly, her eyes full of a cold silver light.
She looked beyond the now into what had been.
Her lip curled in disgust at one point and she reached out her hand. Chronotrons and other esoteric particles flowed into her hand, slowly taking the shape of a bright red apple.
It crunched, despite there being no sound in space, when she took a large bite from it. She chewed the bite, looking over the planets.
When she was done with the apple, she streaked into motion, moving an appreciable fraction of the speed of light, until she was in front of the sleeping girls.
One, her bangs forming a heart on the pale skin of her forehead, woke slowly, stretching and yawning as she did so.
The onyx woman merely waited.
She was old, but the child was even older.
She was feared, but the child was legend made flesh.
She was fearsome in her power, but the child was terrible in her joy.
They were sisters. Two sides of the same dark and bloody coin.
The child smiled at the onyx woman, who merely nodded dispassionately. The child waved at the system with one hand, the wand she tightly grasped leaving behind a trail of glitter.
In the glitter could be seen living planets. Some with hellish atmospheres where burning carbon ash rained from the sky, others with life giving oceans, and still others with iron oxide sands that teamed with microbial life.
The onyx woman looked back over the system slowly, then turned and looked at the two stellar masses with more than just her eyes. After a moment she turned to the young girl and nodded.
At an unseen signal the other young girls slowly woke. They gave the impression of happiness and joy even as they held tight to terrible weapons.
The onyx woman kept looking at the planets. At what would need to be done. Which zone each planet occupied.
To merely cover them with life would not do. That was for a Genysys Device or a G.E.C.K, which were simple toys compared to her obsidian majesty.
She held out her arms at a 45 degree angle to her body, threw her head back, and vocalized a single note that resonated in the coronas of the two stars.
Behind her appeared a dozen females of her species, none as beautiful or well endowed as she was, clad in more clothing, all reclining on furniture made of pale white energy. She snapped her fingers and two dozen males appeared, all dressed in black leather, pants and vests, with heavy boots, all carrying swords made of a dark purple metal that glittered in the light of the stars.
Another snap and an orchestra appeared, all of black onyx and obsidian that breathed in the stellar vacuum of space.
The band began to play, and the males began to dance with wild abandon.
She joined them, her voice upraised, as the girls all watched and added their power to hers.
Reaching out, she lifted mass from the stars, a process known as star lifting, optimizing and extending the binary stars's energy output and lifespan.
To the two stars it tickled and their giggles rippled the stellar winds.
As she danced, runes and glimmers of light streamed from her fingers, speeding out to wrap around the planets.
The planets were swallowed by golden energy.
Still she danced and sang in the darkness.
On the planets, new bedrock was laid, planetary cores were repaired and spun up to restore the magnetic field. Atmosphere was laid, then oceans. Fossil records and geological records of asteroid impacts were applied. The rude organisms that had been wiped out were extrapolated and laid into the bedrock as fossils.
Sixty-five million years of history was laid into the bedrock.
The tiny multi-celled organisms were extrapolated into more complex forms. The skeletons and evidence of those life forms were embedded into the fossil record. Weather formed and erosion was built into the mountains that suddenly thrust there way from the planetary crust.
Higher organisms were laid in. A fossil record, a record of tool use, migration patterns, all were laid down.
The energy cleared, to reveal a single planet bearing life. The other two had failed, existing inside the amber zone.
But they left behind fossil records and scant fungus and microbial life.
The creatures on the single life bearing planet began to move around, began to live lives programmed into their very genetic code. Crude housing and primitive culture was laid down.
And then it was done.
The male dancers slowed their wild dance, bowed once to the watching girls, and vanished.
The band rippled and vanished.
The reclining beings of onyx and silver vanished.
Only the onyx woman remained, her skin glittering with sweat.
She bowed to the girls.
And vanished.
The girls looked over the stellar system and nodded to one another.
It had been restored.
They held still a moment, contemplating, before moving.
They sped forward and vanished in bright silver streaks.
The binary stars agreed that they had witnessed something interesting.
Then they returned to their dance with one another.
On the planet, a species that had been extinguished before it even had a chance to exist began to go about its business as if there had never been an interruption marked by the scream of "ALL BELONGS TO THE HIVE!"
-----
Space was empty with the exception of a small bit of dark matter the size of a coin.
It wasn't dark matter as many races knew it, it was transparent to most scanning systems. A tiny bit of proto-matter that the universe used to heal up tears and scrapes that were just part of the growing pains of a youthful universe.
There was a sudden flash and ten young Terran girls appeared. The leader lifted her voice in song within the vacuum of space.
A single note answered.
They waited, patiently.
The tiny bit of dark matter began to spread out as more and more dark matter began to gush from the tiny bit. Soon, there was a patch of dark matter nearly two kilometers wide, even if it was only a few molecules thick.
A massive black warship slid from inside the dark matter. The thick warsteel armor was covered with beads of the dark matter, like a cold can on a hot humid day. The weapons were cold and dark, offline and silent. The engines burned with a purple light
Code streamed from the massive black warship, bathing the ten figures.
Their eyes closed and their bodies relaxed. They slowly curled into the fetal position.
From the warship came small craft. Ten of them. One by one, each of the figures were gathered up by the small craft, pulled inside. The craft then remained motionless until the last was gathered up and a period of stillness followed.
Code packets were exchanged between the gathering ships and the massive warship.
The little ships swept back to the warship.
The dark matter shivered and rippled and a vast door rose up out of the dark matter, the proto-matter streaming off the face of the doors like water. The sheer size and mass of the doors hinted at something large, something ominous, something terrible deeper in the dark matter.
The doors opened and the warship vanished inside.
-----
The Obelisk AKA Black Box 536169-6c6f72-204d6f6f6e.
Inside were machines of ancient and strange purpose, built to continue working for millions of years. Bulky robots carried out maintenance tasks to ensure the life of The Obelisk.
Through the dark halls moved The Grave Watcher. Heavy of muscle and bone, ancient and crude cybernetics attached to flesh that neither aged nor mortified.
He served the Digital Omnimessian and all of humanity through his works.
At long last he came to a simple chamber.
A cryo-tube sat in the middle of the far wall, covered in frost. Beside it, extended from the wall, were drawers where strange implements sat in custom fitted cushioned slots.
The Grave Walker moved up and rubbed the frost from the capsule.
Inside was a teenage Terran Descent Humanity immature female who was beautiful even in sleep. Her large blue eyes were closed, the long lashes touching her cheeks. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight braid and wound under a cryosleep cap, but the gap in the middle of the cap showed how her bangs looked like a heart. Her flawless arms and legs were longer than normal, somehow making her aesthetically pleasing instead of freakish. She had a button nose and a cupid's bow mouth, a flawless complexion, and even in sleep she looked as if she was full of joy.
She was inhuman in her perfection.
The Grave Watcher ran through the context menus then, satisfied with the readouts, turned away.
The extended drawer was covered with a clear armaglass panel that showed what was beyond, held in a black warsteel frame. Jewelry, clothing, shoes. He checked the inventory list that scrolled by with cold amber light to the contents, examining phasic and energy levels.
Satisfied, he turned away, moving to the doorway. He reached out and pressed a heavy button.
The cryo-pod hissed and pulled up into the wall. The drawers pulled into the wall. The floor of the room vanished as mist rose to knee height.
He turned away, moving through the door, locking it once it closed after him. A blast door lowered and he ensured that one was locked with a molecular bonding system.
The Grave Watcher made his way to the central control room.
Inside stood a Terran woman of indeterminate age. She wore a black suit, her black hair was in a short cut, and her face was cold and hard, her gun-metal gray eyes unreadable.
The Grave Watcher moved to the pedestal in the middle of the room.
He placed his hand on the top of the pedestal. Data streamed by beneath his hand. Finally, only two words remained.
He stepped back and motioned to the Terran female.
She stepped up and looked down.
DEACTIVATE PROJECT?
She pressed a single icon.
YES
The Grave Watcher escorted her from The Obelisk. Boarding his own grim ship as she boarded hers.
He watched as her ship slipped through the narrowing gap of the slowly receding proto-matter pool in realspace.
Once she was gone, he sat down on a command chair that was more a throne than a chair.
The atmosphere pumped out of the bridge, leaving him sitting in cold vacuum.
He stared at the small pinpoint of dark matter with frost covered eyes.
And waited.
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ULTRAKILL has alot of enemies. This is a collection of all of the enemies patterns and feats that can be applied for scaling purposes. All of these enemies are one's that V1 has defeated and are superior to in combat.

Husks

Filth

(Terminal Data)
Do nothing more than charge and lunge at V1

Stray

(Terminal Data)

• Strays will attempt to maintain distance and line-of-sight from V1, and fire at it with energy attacks

Schism

(Terminal Data)

• Will get in medium range from V1 and shoot it with a collection of energy shots, fired either vertically or horizontally

Soldier

(Terminal Data)

• Will shoot at V1 with a volley of hell energy, and kick it if it gets too close
• Can resist damage from explosions thanks to their armor

Stalker

(Terminal Data)

• Stalkers carry sand canisters on their back, and will attempt to detonate it near enemies to convert their blood to sand, preventing them from bleeding
• They count has heavy enemies due to the weight of their canisters
• The canister still explodes if the stalker is killed, albeit with a smaller explosion

Sisyphean Insurrectionist

(Terminal Data)

• Climbs up a pyramid
• Lands and and destroys a small speaker, concaving the ground around it
• Swings its malicious face overhead, around, or straight towards V1
• Jumps high into the air, and will either land, creating a shockwave, or throw its malicious face, and reel itself to stop it hits, creating a shockwave
• A special duo of the enemies, Angry and Rude, can only truly be killed if both of their healths reach 0 at the same time, otherwise they will revive after a short period of time

Ferryman

(Terminal Data)

• Backflips onto the deck and then the top of the ship
• Can combat roll to dodge V1’s attacks
• Can cause lightning strikes to hit V1. He’ll also summon lightning to his spot if any of his attacks are parried
• Swings at V1 with his oar
• Attempts to kick V1 twice
• Dashes back and performs a large circular swing at V1
• Can slam his oar onto the ground, creating a small blast
• Spins his oar when far from V1 to close the distance
• Thrusts his oar forward
• Jumps upward with his oar to hit V1 when its airborne

Corpse of King Minos

(Terminal Data)

• Just his hand slamming around a hallway creates massive shockwaves
• Shatters the roof of the building V1’s in
• Will throw punches and melee strikes at V1
• Can summon a small black hole-like obstacle that slowly moves towards V1, which will take out almost all of V1’s health if contact is made
• Once half his health is gone, parasites will appear from the Corpses eyes that shoot projectiles at V1
• Upon death, will collapse and crush a wall by falling onto it

Demons

Malicious Face

(Terminal Data)

• Malicious Faces will fire collections of energy shots, and occasionally charge a hitscan laser that creates a large explosion. It will attempt to predict where V1 will be to hit it
• After taking enough damage, it will become enraged, and begin firing two laser in a sequence
• Cores, rockets and projectile boosted shotgun shots will harmless bounce off its surface
• After it dies, it will fall, and create a large shockwave that launches enemies and V1 airborne

Cerberus

(Terminal Data)

• Can stomp the ground, creating a large shockwave
• Performs a shoulder bash
• Throws their orb they carry, exploding on contact
• When one cerberus is killed, all the remaining will become enraged and move at faster speeds

Hideous Mass

(Terminal Data)

• Emerges from the ground, displacing rock
• Any shots done to its armor will negate some of the damage
• Can fire mortar shots into the air that explode on contact
• Can slam the ground creating a massive shockwave, or clap its claws to create a vertical shockwave
• Can shoot a harpoon from the back of its tail. If contact is made with V1, it will have its speed greatly lessened until the tail is shot
• After enough damage is done, it will become enraged, flipping on its back and only fire mortar shots

Leviathan

(Terminal Data)

• Any shots done to its armor will lessen the damage
• Can lunge at V1.
• Fires a barrage of hell orbs at V1
• Swings its tail while submerged underwater
• In its second phase it will constant be swinging it tail while continuing with its other attacks
• Heavily implied to have flipped an entire ship

Robots

Swordmachine

(Terminal Data)

• Has a sword that it will swing three times towards V1
• Saws through a room of common enemies. And Again
• Can destroy large pillars with its sword
• Can perform a running jump slash at V1
• When is at a distance, the Swordmachine will use it shotgun to attempt to hit V1
• After enough damage is taken, the Swordmachine loses its shotgun. V1 obtained its shotgun after collecting it from a defeated Swordmachine
• In its second phase, it will being throwing its sword like a boomerang towards V1
• In its second phase, Will begin doing a large circular sword spin
• Will be knocked down if parried, but will enter an enraged state in which it moves faster and cannot be knocked down again
• A special duo of the enemies, Agony and Tundra, can only truly be killed if both of their healths reach 0 at the same time, otherwise they will revive after a short period of time

Drone

(Terminal Data)

• Maintain medium distance from V1, erratically move in bursts, and shoots 3 projectiles
• When its health drops to zero, it will charge towards and attempt to explode V1

Streetcleaner

(Terminal Data)

• Can break through different types of walls
• When by V1, they will use their flamethrowers to attempt to burn V1
• Set an entire room in Limbo Ablaze
• Able to dodge shotgun shots, nails, and the Whiplash
• Will backhand oncoming rockets and grenades to the side
• The fuel canister that houses the gas for the flames are a vital weak spot, as it will explode if shot by any gun

Mindflayer

(Terminal Data)

• Will shoot a collection of projectiles that home in on V1
• Can fire a large laser at V1 that sweeps across a distance
• Will teleport by V1 and attempt to hit it with a melee strike
• On Violent difficulty, will become enraged after reaching half health, become much faster
• Upon death, will violently explode

Sentry

(Terminal Data)

• Will attempt to kick V1 if it gets too close
• Can plant themselves in the ground, concaving the ground beneath them to do so. It will easily unmount itself to get better positioning
• Once mounted, it will slowly charge up its cannon, and fire a hitscan beam
• V1 can interrupt the charging beam by hitting the enemy with a railcannon, a feedbacker punch, or a shot to the antenna

V2

[Full RT here](Coming soon!)
(Terminal Data 1)
(Terminal Data 2)

Angels

Virtue

(Terminal Data)

• Its only attack is to summon a massive light pillar in the spot that V1 is
• After firing a certain amount of beams (the number changes depending on difficulty), it will become enraged, and attempt to hit V1 by predicting where it will be
• After being killed, it will drop its core, causing a large shockwave upon hitting the ground

Gabriel

Full RT here
(Terminal Data 1)
(Terminal Data 2)

Other

Cancerous Rodent

• The original rodent can break through a wall, but dies in one hit
• The very cancerous rodent is a larger variation that can shoot green homing projectiles

Mysterious Druid Knight & Owl

• Breaks and hovers out of a sarcophagus
• Full Auto: Fires multiple bursts of red hell orbs
• Fuller Auto: Fires a large stream of blue homing projectiles
• Will enter an enraged state upon losing half its health, becoming a lot faster
• After a fourth of its health is left, it will become covered in sand, becoming unable to bleed

Flesh Prison

(Terminal Data)

• The Flesh Prison will begin by summoning minions that will fire beams at V1
  • If enough damage was done to the Flesh Prison without taking out its minions, it will sacrifice those minions to heal itself
• Can fire a barrage of blue homing hell orbs at V1
• Creates giant pillars of light in the place V1 is in order to damage it
• Can summon a small black hole-like obstacle that slowly moves towards V1, which will take out almost all of V1’s health if contact is made

Flesh Panopticon

(Terminal Data)

• The Flesh Prison will begin by summoning minions that will fire beams at V1. Looking directly at these minions will make it impossible for the V1 to heal back until this minion is dead
  • It can in theory heal itself by sacrificing its minions much like the flesh prison, but will always be interrupted by Sisyphus Prime breaking out
• Can fire a stream of mortar shots from the top
• Creates giant pillars of light, which can appear horizontal or vertical
• Can summon a small black hole-like obstacle that slowly moves towards V1, which will take out almost all of V1’s health if contact is made

Minos Prime

Full RT here
(Terminal Data)

Sisyphus Prime

[Full RT here](Coming soon!)
(Terminal Data)

Hi, I have a mouse issue - the mouse in question is the "Inphic PG 2" ^{(Note: I got my one from amazon, but now the link now redirects to a pink version of it - the link provided is an example, visually identical to the mouse I own})
No matter where I look, I cannot find the driver for this mouse. The Inphic website seems to have no mention of it, aside from an article on the manufacturer website, in which they explain how to update the driver, without actually providing a link for it. ^{(The other drivers on the website do not recognise this mouse})
The mouse does however still work with the generic windows driver. I believe when I purchased it originally, I was able to install a driver, but that was a few years ago and I no longer have the same computer.
I have also found YouTube videos of the mouse being reviewed, but cannot for the life of me find a driver. I would very much like to reprogram the side buttons on the mouse, and perhaps turn off the LED lighting.
I have tried to contact the manufacturer, but have had no response - I have also seen a few other commenters on Amazon and YouTube mention they are unable to find a driver.
Does anybody have any advice on what could be done? if not finding a specific driver, is there some kind of custom driver, or custom code that could be used?
I found something on github, but I do not really understand if this works, or how it would work
I am very comfortable with this mouse and would rather try every avenue to get it to work as intended, rather than get a new one.
I would really appreciate if anybody was able to help me.
Thank you for your time

It was way back in the day when it all went down.
Going to my friend’s secluded cottage up north seemed like a good idea until the car wrapped around a tree in the middle of a raging fucking blizzard, twenty miles away from any civilization. I kept trying to convince my friends to stop at a hotel, but the driver and the owner of the car, my old college roommate Pat, kept brushing my concerns off as if the approaching snowstorm wasn’t even coming.
I bet he wished he had listened after the car crashed.
“Shit,” Homie said, pulling me out. “Anything broken?”
“No,” I answered.
The only other friend who was crazy enough to come with us, nicknamed Homie, a big ol' country boy, stood in front of the hood, inspecting the damage as best he could. Based on how smoke and sparks was coming out of the engine, we wouldn’t be able to turn it back on without assistance.
“Are the phones okay? We might be able to call for help.”
Pat showed us his phone, which had broken during the crash, and said, “Like hell, we can. We can’t stay in the car, and if we don’t want to freeze to death, we need to go somewhere to stay.”
He was right. The bumper in the front of the car was compressed from the impact, and after we had all gotten out, a very heavy tree branch had fallen on the roof of the car, crushing the metal into crumpled tinfoil. No way we were going to fit in that car. We were on a dirt road with woods surrounding us on both sides, and the closest town was two miles away.
The snow was heavily blowing down, and as unusual as it sounded, there was a heavy fog obscuring our vision.
“Well let’s at least get moving,” I said. “A crackhead or someone might live along the road.”
They didn’t argue. We put on our jackets, packed all the food and water we could carry, and we prepared to set off down the road, into a snowy abyss.
When Pat pulled out two guns from the trunk, I got confused.
“Why are you bringing the guns?”
I shouldn’t have even asked. When Pat went anywhere near the countryside, he carried at least two high-powered guns, because of an incident that happened a year ago. Pat closed the trunk and walked away, his shotgun in his arms with his revolver strapped to his side.
“There’s… creatures in these woods. I’ve seen them before. You can never be too safe.”
I knew better to question Pat. He was always a cautious, but extremely care-free and reckless dude who always paid attention to all the details around him.
“Alright. Looks like the fucking storm is blowing in hard.” I said.
And with that last comment, we began to walk down the road, searching for anything, anything that would indicate that a single person was out here. As luck would have it, the immense snowstorm was keeping everyone inside, if there were even people living all the way out here. To say that the cold was terrible was a vast understatement. We were only wearing light jackets and two layers of pants, and even that wasn’t enough to keep us warm, given that there was a very plausible chance of catching hypothermia.
“Shit, man. How far did we walk?” Homie asked, once our car was well out of sight.
“We’re not even close,” I said. “Just shut up and wait till we get there.”
“Guys.” It was Pat. His face looked pale as if he was retelling the horrible incident he had gone through a year ago.
So about a year ago, Pat had gone on a camping trip, alone in the woods behind his cottage. It was at the peak of the night when he heard something moving around outside his tent. Something big. When he looked outside, he saw something just beyond the treeline, and he could just make out that something’s silhouette. According to Pat, who almost never told lies or made-up stories, a thing was watching him. He remembered it very vividly. '
It was humanoid, but it wasn’t human. It was eight feet tall, extremely skinny, hairless, and it had antlers with an open head with several glowing orbs in the center. And after all this time, after everything, after all the nightmares, we were seeing the exact thing Pat had seen that night. Expect it was dead.
But it wasn’t just dead, it was mutilated.
Mangled.
The dead creature lay on its back on the side of the road, unmoving. The creature’s entire body was skinny and pale, and its head… was identical to a deer skull, complete with an impressive array of antlers, that were snapped and completely shattered.
One of the creature’s legs was ripped off, and it looked like something enormous had taken a bite out of its shoulder and stomach. The creature was eaten. Killed, by a horror we couldn’t even begin to fathom. And worst of all, the creature looked to be killed recently, with a blood trail heading into the woods. And based on how heavy the snow was falling, the creature would have had to be killed at least ten minutes ago, for the blood trail to not be covered by snow already.
“Holy shit, man,” Homie exclaimed. “Isn’t that the thing Pat saw last year?”
Pat sighed and gritted his teeth. “Yeah. It fucking is.”
I stared at the dead creature, and despite not wanting to know the truth of what really happened, I already knew. Something bigger had killed this thing.
“But something killed it. This thing is already huge, so what killed it must be… enormous...”
Pat looked away from the creature.
“It’s dead, we know. But something killed it, and it’s probably nearby. So I'm going to fuck it up.
I looked at the blood trail heading deep into the woods. Then as Pat walked alongside us, loading shells into his shotgun, we turned, and continued down the dark road.

I used to shower with my bathroom door open just a crack. For whatever dumb reason, the tiny, cramped apartment bathroom I’ve had to deal with for the last nine years or so loves to steam and fog up, even with the water on warm instead of hot. And, since my crappy as hell landlord refused to fix the ceiling mounted fan which would have ventilated the room, along with the fact it caused the ancient off white paint to sweat and start developing mold patches in any other case, something which he would’ve charged me to clean, I made the decision to leave the door open a bit to allow to steam to escape. For almost a decade, nothing out of the ordinary happened, and I went about my daily life, the habit becoming a routine in my mind.
That was, up until two months or so ago.
You see, I was alone that day. My roommate had gone out for the day to take part in some bowling tournament, and I had the run of the place for the next four to six hours. As it was my day off from work, I decided to start it off with a long, hot, relaxing shower. So, I grabbed a fresh set of towels from the small closet next to my bedroom door, stepped inside, and, after turning on the water to let it warm up, I hopped in. I’d just lathered the shampoo up in my hair when I heard a noise come from just outside the bathroom. It was almost masked by the sound of the water splashing down on me and the floor of the tub, but it was out of place enough that I caught it. Scrape. It was almost the sound you’d hear if you dragged long fingernails down the wall. I froze, the shampoo dripping down over my face making it difficult to see anything at all. The sound came again. Scrape. For a moment, the thought of someone breaking in flashed through my mind; after all, the neighborhood I live in has the nickname of “Methpire” for a reason. But, if someone had broken a window or forced the lock, I would’ve heard it. The place isn’t exactly big enough to miss those sounds.
Finally, I opened my mouth. “Tyler?” Instantly, the sound, which had begun to repeat itself for a third time, ceased, the entire place going silent, save for the water. I felt a small wave of annoyance zap through me. Tyler, this better not be another one of your games, I thought as I hurriedly washed the shampoo out of my hair. My roommate had a habit, being a horror junkie, in delighting in attempting to play pranks on me, knowing I had a tendency to be a little jumpy. Without shutting off the water, I reached out, grabbed a towel off the rack, and stepped out, wrapping it around my waist. “Tyler, I swear to God, if this is another attempt to scare me, I’m going to kick your ass!” I called, striding across the tiled floor and yanking the door all the way open. I looked around. There was nobody in the living room, or the kitchen which opened off of it. I glanced around, then, just to ease my own mind, I walked, first to my bedroom, then Tyler’s, looking in. Both were empty, and there wasn’t exactly any place for someone to quickly hide in either of them.
Huh. I must’ve just been hearing things. Shrugging my shoulders, I turned and jumped back into the shower to finish up. That evening, when Tyler came back home from celebrating with his team, apparently having blitzed the competition, I decide to question him as we sat at the kitchen table, eating Chinese takeout. “Hey, Ty?” I asked casually, glancing up from my chopsticks. “Yeah?” he mumbled out through a mouthful of his food, causing me to roll my eyes at his lack of manners. “You didn’t happen to come home earlier today for a moment, did you?” He looked up at me, a slightly perplexed expression on his face. “Nah, man. I was at the alley until three, and out drinking with the boys until five. Why?” I searched his face. The guy had a tendency to chew a little too much when he was bullshitting me; it was a tell I’d learned to spot of his, thanks to endless nights of playing poker against one another. “No reason. Just, thought I’d heard something while I was in the shower this morning” I looked at him, smirking slightly. “Thought you might’ve come back to grab something you needed, and decided to try and pull one over on me again”
He let out a huge burp in response, then reached forward and grabbed his bottle of Coke, tilting it back and taking a swig. “No, man” he said simply, using the back of his sleeve to wipe his lips, “Besides, if I’d come back and tried to scare you, you’d have known it” He let out a low laugh, one which, after a moment of studying him, I shared. He was clearly telling the truth. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, bro” I said, dropping my chopsticks into the empty container and hocking it over my shoulder into the trash can. He leaned back, and, using his own empty container, feigned being a basketball player and acted like he was making a free throw; the container bounced off the edge, making us both laugh. I pushed what had to be a trick of my mind out of my head, and the two of us spent the rest of the night playing video games and downing beer.
The next week went by without any other strange noises, and I almost completely forgot the strange incident. Ty had gone out for the evening on a date, and after binge watching all three Creature from the Black Lagoon movies, I flicked the television off and headed for the shower. Hopping in, I softly hummed some 50s tune stuck in my mind and lathered myself up with soap. I’d just put the shampoo in my hair, when I heard the scraping sound again. This time, it was a bit louder, and I knew it hadn’t been my imagination. I became still as a statue again, my head under the water and blurred between it and the shampoo slowly being rinsed out of it of its own accord. I almost held my breath, listening. The sound came again; this time, instead of on the wall, the scrape clearly came from the wooden doorway to the bathroom. I felt my heart thudding hard in my chest. Then, my eyes widened as I saw a shadow filter through the opaque shower curtain. It was the shadow of the bathroom door slowly opening.
I found my voice. “Who’s out there?!” I called, attempting to sound as tough and authoritative as I could. Just like last time, the moment I spoke up, all movement and sound ceased, the apartment going silent. This time, however, the air almost felt charged, as if the tension in it were palpable enough to be cut with by a knife. I reached out, wrapping my fingers around the edge of the curtain as I grabbed the closest thing I could find as a weapon: a full bottle of shampoo. It was a pathetic weapon which likely wouldn’t faze any intruder, but, it was still better than nothing. Taking a deep breath, I wrenched the curtain back, the sound of the hooks scraping on the metal pole almost sounding like a scream in the quiet. Just like last time, there was no sign of a soul. The only thing that gave away that anything had changed, was that the bathroom door was, indeed, standing wide open; the darkened outline of the living room beyond made me feel uneasy. I couldn’t place why, but it almost felt as if the gloom held a threatening atmosphere. Shutting off the water, I stepped out and wrapped the towel around my waist.
Stepping to the doorway, I reached out into the dark and felt around the edge of the door until my fingers found the light switch. Instantly, the dark was banished away by the bright white light overhead. I could see that nobody was in sight in the living room. This time, however, I wasn’t taking any chances. Water still dripping off me, I strode across the living room to where I’d dropped my belt I wore when out on the job as a plumber. I reached down and pulled a rather large pipe wrench from its place, gripping it with wet, and, admittedly, slightly shaky hands. The kitchen was clearly devoid of life, and I focused my vision on the two bedrooms, which lay dark. My door was wide open, but Ty’s was slightly closed. I glanced at the hook on the wall, noting that his car keys weren’t hanging from them next to mine. He’s not home, which means….shit. I felt my muscles tense up. I seriously didn’t want to deal with some homeless junkie who had someone gotten himself inside and was trying to find something to steal, or worse, attack me in some drug fueled rage.
I forced myself to speak loudly and tough as I could. “I’m warning you; if anyone is in here, I am armed!” I didn’t add the fact it was a wrench and not a gun. “If you come out and just leave, this’ll go a lot easier!” Silence. The only sound I could hear was a car passing by outside. I called again. “Look, I’m in no mood for this, so come out, and get the hell out of my place!” Still nothing. But, I felt an odd sensation, one which caused the hairs on my arms to stand up straight, even damp. It was the feeling of being watched. My eyes caught the flicker of movement. A shadow seemed to draw back away from my roommate’s half closed door. I knew right there and then I should’ve called the cops, but, some dumb sense of bravado had come over me, and I wanted to be like those tough guys in the older movies, taking care of things themselves. “This is your final warning!” I called to the bedroom. After about twenty seconds of more silence, I drew in a deep breath, raised the wrench as high over my head as I could, and, letting out a bellowing yell, dashed for the bedroom door as if I were simultaneously a football linebacker, and an Olympic torch carrier.
I burst through the door like a charging bull, the door smashing into the wall behind it with the sickening crunch of plaster breaking. I shot my free arm out and wrenched the light switch up. The room was empty. Ty’s scattered clothes, records and game cases lay strewn about the floor like always. I looked around. The closet. Each of us had a small, walk in style closet on the far wall of our respective rooms. Taking another deep breath, and still holding the wrench above my head like a caveman’s club, I strode to the sliding doors and grabbed the handle, yanking it open with a scream of protest from its track. I forced aside the clothes hanging on the rack. Nothing. As I stared at the back wall, the feeling of being stared at came again, this time from almost directly behind me. I swear I could actually feel someone – or something, breathing down my neck.
Moving on pure instinct, I pivoted around and swung the wrench with all the strength I had – at nothing. There was nothing and nobody behind me. What the actual hell is going on here? I wondered. As I stood there, feeling as though something had been behind me and had simply dematerialized out of existence when I turned and swung, I heard the sound of a key in the front door, then the laughs of Ty and what had to be his date as they stepped inside. “I’m telling you, you did great at darts, babe!” Ty exclaimed. Both of them stopped and stared at me when they reached his bedroom door. I know I must’ve looked weird, standing in his room wearing only a towel and holding a wrench. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “..Uh, Jimmy, boy, what the hell are you doing?” I blinked a few times, trying to find my voice. Finally, I spoke.
“I swear I heard someone in here, man” I said, my voice trailing off slightly. I saw the two of them exchange nervous looks. “What you mean, dude?” he asked, his eyes looking around. “I mean, I heard the exact same sound as last time, only the bathroom door swung open. I came out, thought I heard someone moving around in your room, and came in here” I replied, feeling only confusion and embarrassment sweep over me. I could tell he believed I had heard something, and to ease my worries, he had his date sit in the room, and together, we swept the place, looking in every closet and under both beds. But we found no trace of anyone. I shook my head as he prepared to go into his bedroom. “I don’t get it” I muttered softy. He patted me on the shoulder. “I think the bathroom door may just be a bit loose on its hinges, my dude” he said, trying to reassure me. “I’ll check it out in the morning. Go dry yourself off and get some sleep” He punched me lightly on the arm. “And hey, no scary movies late at night for you, okay? You’re starting to hear things go bump in the night for real!”
He let out a laugh, one which I mirrored, but didn’t feel. The feeling of eyes on me had vanished, but the apartment still held an uneasy feeling. It stayed as I dried off, dressed into a pair of pajama bottoms, and climbed into bed. I could hear Ty in the next room, doing exactly what I figured he’d be doing with his date, and rolled my eyes. Hearing that shit gets old after a while. Still, I reached out, grabbed the remote and flicked on the small TV on my bureau for background noise. It took a very long time to drift off to sleep that night, and when I did, my dreams – nightmares, actually, were of a dark, shadowy figure creeping slowly towards my ajar bathroom door, the sounds of the shower on spilling out from it. As it reached out to push open the door, I snapped awake, sitting straight up in bed with a sheen of sweat covering my face and body.
For the next two weeks, I tried as hard as possible not to stay alone in that place. I only showered when I could hear my friend moving around in his room, or out in the living room. Whenever I knew Ty was going out for any reason, I’d either find an excuse to join him, or just go out and do something in town. The sense of being watched hadn’t returned after that night, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Something about the place just, felt like it had changed. Something almost imperceptible, which I couldn’t place. But, it seemed to do the trick, as nothing weird or creepy happened.
Then, one day, as I was sitting in a café sipping on a coffee, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, and saw it was my boss calling me. Great, on my day off I thought exasperatedly, then hit the button to answer it. “Yeah?” Instantly, I heard the gruff voice of Rick, my boss on the other end, yelling to someone else. “No, no, no! Steven, how many times do I have to tell you, counter-clock ways!” His voice got louder as he must’ve put it back to his head. “James, you there?” he asked. “Yep” I replied simply. He let out a sigh. “Look, I know today’s your day off, but we’re over here at the Bannerman property, and two of the pipes burst” He let out a long groan of frustration. “One of them is real bad. I’m able to get one of them fixed, but, our new employee” his voice took on an undisguised tone of disgust, “decided to make it worse by fucking the pipe up worse” He finished, letting a moment of silence spread out before speaking again. “So, I apologize, but I need you to come in. You’ll get paid overtime, of course” I nodded, more to myself than anything, then let out a sigh of my own. “Yeah, I’ll be in. Just let me swing by my place and pick up my tools” I said.
“Don’t forget to quickly hit the shower before getting over here, James” he quickly added, “You know old man Bannerman gets pissy about anyone not being freshly clean coming in here, due to being a germophobe. So, I’ll expect you to be here in thirty minutes” And with that, he clicked off before I could say anything. Not that I could, anyways. At the mention of a shower, I felt a shiver run up my spine. I knew Ty was out; his bowling team was off in the next town on another tournament. Which would mean I’d have to shower in the empty apartment. And that’s something I really do not want to do. But, I had no choice. If I just grabbed my tools and slipped into my jumpsuit, I’d get chewed out, first by Old Man Bannerman, and then Rick for not following orders set down both by him, and the man we’d contracted to repair and replace the pipes of his huge sprawling mansion.
Sighing, I paid for my coffee and drove back to the apartment. When I opened the door, I had a flash of panic seize through me. I thought the feeling I’d had before would come back as soon as I stepped inside. But, the apartment felt normal, the cloudy light filtering in through the half open kitchen and living room window blinds. I looked around, then shook my head. Stop being such a baby, Jimmy. There’s nothing in here except you. You’ll be fine, just take the shower, and book it. Feeling more resolved, I strode across to my room, gathering my undershirt and jumpsuit. For peace of mind, I also grabbed the same pipe wrench I’d held that night from the belt hanging over the edge of the couch, and carried it into the bathroom with me, placing it on top of the pile of clothes sitting on the toilet lid. For a moment, I debated on just closing the bathroom door, but, like the previous feeling, shook it away and left it ajar. Ty should’ve fixed the hinges by now, anyways.
I reached into the shower and turned the water on, waiting for it to warm up. After I saw the steam begin to rise out from over the curtain, I stepped inside, grabbing the bar of soap and quickly beginning to scrub myself. I rinsed myself off with no problems, then grabbed the shampoo and lathered up my hair. As I scrubbed into my scalp, the soap began to drip down into my eyes, obscuring my vision. That’s when I heard the scraping sound come again. Only this time, it was much louder and more pronounced than any time I’d heard it before. I felt a chill run up my spine, despite the hot water flowing down over it. It came again, just outside the bathroom door. I took a deep breath. “Tyler?” I called out, thinking the sound would stop as it had both times before. But this time, it didn’t. Instead, I heard it scrape louder, almost on the bathroom door itself. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I saw the dark shape of the bathroom door swing open.
And then, the bathroom lights flicked off, plunging me into darkness. There was still a little light filtering in from the living room, but everything was now in gloom. What. The. Fuck. My heart was thundering in my chest as I slowly stepped back. I knew the distance from the edge of the tub to the toilet seat where my wrench lay was less than two feet. I could reach out and snatch it in a heartbeat. The scraping sound came again, loud as I’d ever heard it; it came from inside the bathroom somewhere, near the door. And then it stopped entirely. Aside from the sound of the water running, the apartment fell silent. Not a deadly silence, not a tension filled silence, just, silent. I stared for the longest time, what had to be only about fifteen seconds, but what felt like two hours, at the dim outline of the open door. I saw nothing. I turned to pull the curtain next to me back. And I screamed.
The dark outline of a figure, darker than any of the rest of the gloom, stood almost directly on the other side of the curtain, less than a foot from me. If it’d been any closer, it would’ve been pressing into the curtain itself. It stood completely motionless, though I could tell it was looking in my direction from the feeling washing over me in waves, sending a tsunami of chills through me. I couldn’t tell whether it was a man or woman, or hell, if it was even human. It was a human like figure; that was all I could tell. My breath came out in a ragged gasp, and I involuntarily let out a whisper. “Oh, fuck me…”
That was when it lunged at me. I let out a loud scream as the curtain pressed in against its weight, wrapping around it, and subsequently me as I saw arms reaching out to grab me. The momentum of it smashing into me caused me to slip on the wet shower floor, and I went flying backwards. My head smashed into the tub’s faucet, causing me to let out a cry of pain and stars to flash in my vision as I fell to the floor of the tub. It was still there, as I could feel it on top of me, but it never let out a single sound. Something sharp jabbed into my leg, and I let out another scream at the sudden explosion of pain come from my thigh. Another jammed into my shoulder, and I kicked out at the dark figure inches from my face through the curtain. I felt it impact something, but it seemed to have no effect. Another stab of pain came from my shoulder as whatever it was using, a weapon or…claws, jammed into the wound it had already made. I kept screaming as I thrashed around, trying to jam myself into a position where I could reach out.
I heard furious knocking coming from my front door, but it sounded like it was a mile away. “Help me!” I screamed as loudly as I could, still lashing out. Just as I began to feel woozy, I felt my hand brush the edge of the toilet seat, and with it, the cold metal handle of my wrench. Grabbing it as hard as I could, I swung out with all my remaining strength into what had to be the head of the thing. It seemed to stumble a bit at the blow, and I used that precious second to wrench myself out from underneath it, tumbling over the edge of the tub and onto the bathroom floor. I heard it thrashing about with the fallen shower curtain, furiously tearing at it in an attempt to get to me. But I was stumbling to my feet, noting as I did the amount of blood falling to the floor. I struggled to the front door as I heard it finally break free, crashing back onto the bathroom floor, but still remaining silent. I unlocked the door and wrenched it open, revealing the concerned face of my next door neighbor.
When he saw my condition, his face paled. Before I had a chance to say anything, I yelled. “I’m being attacked, it’s in there!” pointing back towards the bathroom. Grabbing me, he pulled me into his open apartment door, slamming it closed and locking it. He quickly brought me a bathrobe and called the police. As he did, I could hear the sounds of it tearing through the apartment, doing God only knows what. It stayed that way until I heard the wail of sirens coming down the road, at which point, I heard everything fall silent in my apartment. A few moments later, I heard the thundering of steps pound up the stairs to the second floor, followed by the yell of the officers. After a few minutes, my neighbor and I heard the hard knock at his door. “Police!”
I was helped to an ambulance, where I was taken to the hospital. In addition to splitting open my scalp on the faucet, I’d been cut up pretty badly, though by what, the doctors couldn’t tell me. They couldn’t even tell themselves. “It’s the damndest thing” one told me as they sewed the wounds closed, “If it hadn’t been for the fact you’d seen a person, I would’ve said you’d been attacked by an animal. These look like puncture wounds from claws!”
The police never found a trace of what had attacked me. I already knew they wouldn’t. It wasn’t a man who’d attacked me. It hadn’t even been human. The case is still open to this day, though I’ve long since stopped getting update calls from the detectives in charge of the case. Tyler and I moved out of the apartment as soon as I left the hospital; he chose to stay at his new girlfriend’s house while I recovered. He’s under the belief I was attacked by an intruder, as is everyone else I know. I just say that whenever anyone asks. It’s easier that way, then trying to explain what I know won’t be believed. That’s why I’m posting this here. I just, feel the need to have to tell someone what actually happened to me that day. This is a place I know I’ll be believed, or at least, won’t be called nuts for it. That figure simply appeared on the other side of the curtain. I never saw it cross the room, and I know, even in the dark, I would have. And even then. Nothing human could possibly be been that silent.
I also know someone else moved into that apartment since then, though I don’t know who they are. I pray they won’t ever end up receiving a visit from…whatever that thing was. The two of us are now renting a nice, relatively cheap two bedroom house miles away from that place. I’ve never felt the sensation of being watched again, and I’ve thankfully never heard the scraping sound. At least, in my waking hours. I still hear it in my dreams, though. I still see that shape standing just on the other side of the curtain in the dark. It will likely stay there until the day I’m on my deathbed. I always feel tense now when I step into the bathroom to wash myself, but, I’ve always felt safe in my new place.
I don’t shower with my door ajar anymore. I make sure it’s closed and firmly locked before I undress and hop in. I’ve always felt safe in my new place, but, I’m not taking any chances.
Because I don’t know if it’s trapped in that apartment. Or if it can leave whenever it wants.

I recently added a cold air intake to my 2007 328i e90 and the bracket for the sensor housing on the new intake was broken to where I could see the sensor’s o-ring, I should have put the old air box back on but instead I drove for about 3 days and it was fine, no problems. But on the 4th day I started it in the morning and while at a red light my engine turned off, idk what to think about it so I kept driving cuz I had a lot of errands to do. I it got a lot worse throughout the day and eventually my check engine light came on so I went to Autozone and ran the codes and it said my MAF sensor was the problem. So I bought a new air filter for the original air box and some CRC MAF cleaner, and reinstalled the factory intake. Cleaning didn’t work, so I bought a new MAF. Replaced the MAF today and disconnected the battery for 10 minutes to reset the ECU and ran idle for 20 minutes, but still experiencing problems. Engine chugging, revving by itself while idle and when I press the gas it revs and when it goes to zero rpm’s the engine turns off. I was originally experiencing overheating but as from what I can see it’s not happening as bad anymore. I did notice a liquid coming from exhaust while running idle and a lot of smoke coming from the engine bay which already happened but more than usual now. I have no idea what I’m doing or what could be wrong or what to check for and don’t have money for a mechanic. Any help is greatly appreciated

Duality of Manipulation
Manipulation in regards to emotion and thought is a tool often utilized by the wicked. People typically use it to their own advantage in selfish manners. In order to truly understand what manipulation is it must, of course, be defined. The Oxford Dictionary defines the term “manipulate” as the act of influencing or controlling a person or situation in a way that is clever, lacking morality, or simply unjust. This definition leads to the concept being given a negative connotation by the majority of society.
However, this negative perception is the result of people overlooking one simple word. That word is “or”. Manipulation can be conducted in a manner that influences OR controls a person/situation and is unjust, immoral, OR clever. By disregarding the word “or”, people lose sight of the true definition. Losing sight, in turn, leads to an uninformed perspective in which people assume that manipulation has to be immoral and selfish. This would serve as an example of how missing detail and context can skew a conclusion. So why does this matter? What point am I trying to make?
Well, I view manipulation in a much different light. I choose not to generalize it as always being an act of evil or an act of good. Although, it can exist as both. Allow me to explain. I am a subjective thinker. As a result of this, my mind tends to break objective concepts down into more subjective subgroups. In terms of manipulation, I have determined two main subgroups. First, there is the notorious negative manipulation. Negative manipulation is the most acknowledged. This subtype covers manipulation being used in a way that is unfair and morally wrong in order to achieve selfish benefit. Then, there comes positive manipulation. Here, the person is influencing another person or situation in a more fair and helpful way that actually benefits the individual being manipulated.
Furthermore, it is of utmost importance to identify how these subtypes manifest themselves in the real world. Again, negative manipulation is already widely acknowledged. A sadly common example of such would be an emotionally abusive relationship. For this scenario, I have developed the following hypothetical situation. (Keep in mind this is a fabricated story):
Linda is a 22 year old female living with her boyfriend, Alex. At first, their relationship seemed perfect with romantic dates, meaningful conversations, and plenty of passion. However, Alex would eventually come to be in control of Linda’s every move. His process started off slow. First, he put on a facade as the perfect partner. He appealed to Linda’s every wish. Once getting closer, she inevitably formed an attachment and high level of trust for Alex. This is when he made his first move. Linda wanted to go out to get drinks with her friends. Alex complained, pleading with her not to go. She tried to argue. However, Alex asked a negatively manipulative question. “Oh so you care more about your friends than me?” She attempted to explain that that was not the case, but she was quickly shut down by Alex whining, “If you don’t want to be around me just say that.” Alex, then, puts on a sad facial expression. This causes Linda to feel guilty for wanting to leave, prompting her to stay at the house with Alex. Things only progressed from here with Alex eventually coming to restrict her from social media, monitor her text messages, and even choose what friends and family she’s allowed to visit.
In this hypothetical, Alex manipulates Linda in a way that harms her emotionally with the purpose of benefiting himself emotionally. It can be mostly agreed upon that hurting another person for your own gain is both unjust and lacking morality. Therefore, this is an example of negative manipulation.
Moving on, we come to the other side of the coin, positive manipulation. As mentioned previously, the mere existence of this subgroup in particular is criminally neglected. The neglect is understandable though. For one, the definition of manipulation as a whole is misleading at first glance. Plus, a misinterpretation of anything can be very easily spread across a society especially with today’s technology and social media climate. Anyway, a good example of positive manipulation would be a friend giving another friend advice on coping with distress. To better explain, let’s look at another hypothetical scenario. This story is also fabricated.
Francis and Mike are two friends who have been close since elementary school. Francis is 24 and Mike is 23. One day, Mike finds himself in a state of depression. He explains to Francis that he sees no purpose in life. Mike also says that life has no meaning or reason to it and that he sees no point in going on. Francis responds in a smart yet caring and empathetic way. He begins by acknowledging Mike’s emotions. He reassures Mike that what he is feeling is perfectly valid and reasonable to experience. Then, Francis offers Mike a new perspective to consider. Francis says that perhaps the meaning of life is life itself. Maybe purpose lies at the foot of experience. Francis explains that everything we experience is what shapes us as people. Everything we experience has its own meaning. Perhaps, the meaning of life is more subjective rather than objective. As a final statement of reassurance, Francis says, “Right now you’re having a negative experience. This, too, has meaning. Of course, you know that because you can feel it. One thing to remember is the balance of bad and good. This negative experience is not permanent. You are bound to the experience of both positivity and negativity as we all are. Rainbows only appear after rain.” Mike returns home with a new perception that helps him cope with negative emotions regarding life.
Looking at this fictional scenario, it is plain to see that Francis did in fact take control of the situation while also influencing Mike to view things from a more positive perspective. Well, would this not be considered manipulation? Francis did control a situation and influence a person, Mike, in a debatably clever, articulate way. By definition, it would have to be considered manipulation. He had manipulated Mike with a positive intent in order to actually help Mike battle his depressing thoughts while being of no benefit to himself.
Other examples or expressions of the good side of the generalized term can be found very easily. That is as long as one pays attention and takes the effort to seek them out. One of these expressions in particular actually somewhat relates back to our Mike and Francis hypothetical. Francis was giving Mike advice and encouraging positive thought. This is very similar to what a licensed counselotherapist is supposed to do. However, a certified psychologist will have a more informed and careful approach to the matter. Regardless, a counselor or therapist is still tasked with controlling the atmosphere of their sessions to avoid distressing the client. It is also a common practice to make an attempt at establishing a trend of positive self-talk within the client’s psyche. For those who do not know, self-talk is the internal dialogue that we all have. It is how we talk to ourselves, discuss ideas with ourselves, express emotions to ourselves, etc. Control of the atmosphere means control of the situation. Influence of the mind means influence of the person. Therapy is a positively manipulative practice.
Then, there is what I like to call the gray area. As with most things, the gray area here is that middle field where whatever is being discussed does not fall under the category of either side. Instead, it falls somewhere in between. Gray area manipulation is essentially when the act is beneficial to both parties. Some may consider this to be on the more positive side of things, but I disagree. The only reason that I disagree is because we often overlook our own intent and take action in favor of ourselves over others. This is in-part derived from the structure of the individualist culture. We’ve been practically programmed by society to care more about our individual, personal success and benefit as opposed to that of others. This means that when a person commits an act of good that, in turn, makes them feel good it blurs the lines of intent. Is this person doing this good deed for the selfish benefit such as feeling that they are doing good or do they genuinely care about whatever it is they are doing? There is no way to tell. Even the individual themself may be perplexed by the question. I’m not sure if there is an exact name to this phenomenon, but I will refer to it as the good deed paradox. If one does not know if the intent behind their behavior is selfish or selfless, it can not be called positive or negative. It can’t be positive because the intent is not known. It can’t be negative either because doing something good suggests that there is no immoral or unjust nature to the action. It lies within the gray area.
Rightfully so, not all will agree with me. That is perfectly understandable. How can something not be good when it benefits everyone involved? However, I believe in the importance of context and intent. Say that someone is court-ordered to a certain amount of hours in community service. Now, let’s say that this individual takes a common route in which they clean the streets of litter. This, in turn, helps the environment while also offering the individual both exercise as well as the chance to stay out of jail. Most would agree that, yes, this is a good thing in general regardless of intent. However, one would likely not attribute such a deed to the good will of the person nor would one argue that the individual is of high morality for their action. This person did not intend to do the right thing. They have no intent to do good. They only care about not being incarcerated. Well, if they only care about their personal benefit then wouldn’t this be considered negative? Yes but no. If they genuinely do not care about their helping of the environment then yes, of course. On the other hand, if one acknowledges such and wants to do so then no, but that would activate the good deed paradox. Context matters. Intent matters. Though, things can get rather contradictory and confusing.

To start our community I would like to share my recent short story Apostasia.
Any and all feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Thank you in advance for taking the time to read my writing.
​
Apostasia
My father’s shadowy figure filled the arched doorway as candles flickered in the hall behind him.
“Son” he calls out. His voice bouncing off the vaulted ceilings.
“Yes father” I call back
“Today is your day, you will go out alone. I need you to take the truck to the Harvesters cabin, where I showed you last time.” He stepped forward and his face was cast in a golden glow. He reached his hand out toward me and I began to rise to my feet and approach him.
“What will I do there?” I ask. He shakes his head as if nodding off a nagging fly and lowers his hand.
“You will be receiving something that you must protect with your life my son. You will leave tonight at sundown.” he tells me. “I know you are scared to be alone but remember I am always with you son, up here” He taps his finger to his temple.
At sundown I put on my black coat and my father hands me the key to the truck. He says “Be safe now son. We need you back for Nyx ceremonies so make haste.” With that I start the car and rumble down the gravel drive towards the stone gate.
The Harvesters cabin is just past the treeline, a small dilapidated wooden shack entangled with vines and shrubs. A single cardboard package sits in front of it. This must be what I'm here for. I grabbed the box and ran back to the car. I left quickly, Ansty with excitement about the success of my first solo mission.
Red and blue lights flick on behind me and light up the dark county road. I’ve been trained for this. I squeak the truck to a halt and pull to the side of the road. I feel my heart pound as the man approaches. I stick one hand out the window and keep the other planted firmly on the steering wheel.
“How ya doing tonight son?” he asked me in a deep, arrogant voice.
“I'm not your son and I don’t talk to your kind” I said calmly. I shouldn’t be here. I need to get back with the supplies soon before father starts to worry. After all, this is my first time away from the Ikos unaccompanied. He might think I've gone rogue and tried to betray him.
“Where's your windshield.... and windows? Can I see your license and registration" he said. I don’t know what he means so I don’t say anything. Father told me the Kleptos can't hurt me if I don’t say anything. I turn and glance at him for the first time and his eyes drill into me. Cold, dull and lifeless he glares at me. I can feel his evil intentions trying to pull words from my mouth. Besides everyone knows windows provide evil easy access to your mind. He opens the door and grabs my arm and pulls me behind the truck.
“This truck ain’t yours, is it?... Plate’s registered to a blue minivan, we’ve spotted you a few times, but you always seem to disappear into thin air.” He clicks cold metal cuffs around my wrists. I try to rip away from him but he’s too big. They've got me. I close my eyes tight and interlace my fingers how father showed me. I ask why he is letting this happen, why he would let the Kleptos take me. I feel his hand on my shoulder; Don’t worry son, this is all part of my plan. He has warned me about the challenges that may present themselves outside. But father told me nobody should touch me outside of the Ikos. Even still his voice echoes through my head and calms my panic. I bow my head; ever thankful he is here for me.
“If ya’ won't talk I'm gonna have to take you in” he yanks me backwards towards his car. Don’t let them take me. After trapping me in the back seat, behind darkened glass he began to drive, further than I had been before. Father traveled the land before me and found nothing but despair beyond our valley. He built the compound to keep us safe from the Exousia. They dominated the outside world and preyed on people to power their system, and now they have me. The Kleptos are tasked with collecting freelancers like us, father calls us Diaspora, and bringing us to work into their system. We’ve lost many this way over the years. The scripture of Lazarus describes this type of abduction, he was able to make it back to the commune after spending nearly a year in the hands of the Exousia. But all that time spent outside corrupted him. He came back to the commune in a crazed frenzy, screaming and fighting. The overseers were forced to lock him up in the Ikos. For 44 days and 44 nights Lazarus screamed and shouted as the overseer tried to rid him of his contaminates. At the end of the trial, he emerged from the Ikos as a tiny newborn, awarded a second chance to honor our father.
I tried my best to resist the temptation to look out the window, but I desperately need to make out my surroundings. Nothing looks familiar, everything is covered in marks of their systems. Father said they use cables to string together different parts of the outside and keep them under control. A dim yellow glow grows in the distance. Before I knew it tall buildings towered on either side of the road. I had never seen such buildings before. All those windows, one per soul. The control cables swooped up and down along the sides of the road, like a clothesline bouncing in the wind. They stretched as far in each direction as I could see. I could almost hear the static pulse inside the Klepto’s head as he bobbed it up and down with the bumps in the road.
When we arrived at the terminal it was worse than I ever could have imagined. Large glass windows span the front wall of the building, and inside the windows continue. Two, three, sometimes up to 4 layers of windows eating away at these misguided Kleptos. I try to keep my eyes locked to the floor, but even there I can catch reflections of those windows. I'm dragged into a dim room with a metal table in the middle and the man forces me down into the chair. The wall In Front of me holds a giant mirror, I stare into my own eyes, bright with life, then back at the Klepto, dull and dreary. Another one enters and the pair begin babbling questions at me. I tune them out so as to not let their words dig too deep. My eyes and ears perk up when the lesser of the two says the word Diaspora.
“Something of a religious group, but they’ve been suspected of some misbehavior in the past, specifically one member, Phillip Franco. I hear he’s like their Jesus or something”. He chuckled to his partner. What are they talking about? I've been around long enough to know there's no Phillip in the Ikos. I blanked for a second before recalling the story of Jesus. He was one of Father’s Father’s earliest followers who betrayed him for a chance to sit among the Exousia, but he was in fact deceived about the nature of his offer and the Klepto that struck up the deal took Jesus instead.
“So, who is this Phillip Franco to you?” Klepto asked me. “Come on now don’t play dumb, we saw where you was comin from.” I interlace my fingers, wrists shackled to the table in front of me and close my eyes tight. My father came to me attentively and placed his hands in mine. This is your time son, Speak he tells me. All my life I've been told speaking to a Klepto can only worsen things but here I sit, in the room with two and father tells me to speak. I begin to form a story in my head, anything that will get them off my back. As soon as my lip's part to spill the lie he rumbles from deep within me again. Tell them the truth. You are part of me, You hold my power.
“There’s no Phillip Franco where I come from.” I say.
“Where might that be?” the Klepto asks smugly. His beady eyes were bulging with artificial endorphins. He knows what's coming.
“I come from the holy place. My father watches over all of the Diaspora and I am his only child, born of light” I open my eyes and lock them with their reflections in the mirror. I can't let them get to me. “We live and work in harmony with each other while your Exousia varnishes and defiles the outside.” One of the Kleptos steps back and wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead.
“How long have you lived on that complex son?”
“Since the beginning. And I already told you once who my father is. Stop calling me son.” I snapped at him. With that, the sweaty Klepto scurried out of the room and the lesser one stepped forward.
“We’re gonna need to collect a sample of your blood buddy. We need to figure out who you are.”
“I am son of the Father” I say once again. He looks down at his folder then back up at me.
“This Father character you speak of is rumored to be our Phillip Franco, and he doesn't have any children.” The other Klepto bursts through the door and slams his hands down on the table in front of me. He grabs my arm and pushes his body hard against mine, so I'm pinned in place. He jabs me in the arm with a needle before I realize what’s going on. He swiftly caps the bloody syringe and scampers back out of the room just as hastily as he arrived, door slamming and latching behind him.
“Do you know anything about the package we found in the truck?” He asked.
“Those are spirit stones; we must eat two each morning to protect us from the evils your Exousia expels into the world. I can account to this firsthand, I can feel the evils leave my body as the spirit of light fills me each day. “
“I don’t think you understand, those are illegal narcotics” he said. I'm not sure what he means by this but I know the spirit stones are important. Father must eat them constantly as he bears most of the evil of this world so others may live in relative peace. As his son I have been taking more and more, taking on more evil, erasing it with light. The sweaty Klepto bursts through the door once again, paper in hand. “you're gonna want to see this” he says to his partner.
“Oh my god its him!” exclaims the other as he reads the file and sheds a tear. Both Kleptos look straight at me for what feels like an hour until the sweaty one eventually speaks. “We're not sure how to tell you this but, Uh, Phillip Franco and his girlfriend at the time, Julia Robin kidnapped you from your parents as a very young baby. Your real name is Orion Peterson.”
In that moment something shifted. My brain became loud and cluttered. I closed my eyes and clenched my hands, calling out desperately for Father’s Guidance, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. As if he had just vanished. What’s happening Father? I opened my eyes to see the sweaty Klepto sitting right across from me, his blue eyes sparkling even under the dim light. He stretched his hands across the table and unlocked the handcuffs. I took his hand and looked into his eyes as his cheeks and hair filled with color. His hands felt like worn leather, rough and cracked.
“Do you want to meet your real father?” He asks. I know who my real father is. Who could he possibly be talking about? I nod reluctantly and he turns smoothly and walks towards the door. As we walk back through the labyrinth of windows, I keep my head down.
We walked for a couple minutes through this concrete jungle. The smooth paved ground beneath us was cracked, imperfect. We stepped to a looming tower and the doors split open in front of us as if they knew we were coming. A grand red lobby with shiny marble floors spilled out Infront of me. They lead me to a small, golden door along the back wall. Again, it opened as if it could hear us coming. We stepped into a small room with numbered buttons on the wall. The door closed and I felt my stomach drop. A second later the wall behind me opened, revealing a long, marble hallway with a pair of large wooden doors at the end. I took a deep breath as the Klepto’s sweaty hand pulled against the ornate iron handle.
A crimson arc cuts through the air and fills the hallway as the doors swing apart. I keep my eyes down, afraid of what might be producing this light. There's a man sitting at a desk in the middle of the room, he stands up and walks over. He puts his hand on my shoulder and I flinch slightly. He quickly pulls his hand back.
“Sorry. I can't imagine how confused you must be right now.” he says. “I want to show you something.” He leads me over to the window and points. I look up and can't believe what I'm seeing. I must be 500 feet in the air, at the top of the building. These towers extend into the distance, then stop suddenly where a swirling vortex begins. “It's called the ocean” he says. I look up at him and smile as the crimson sun tucks itself into the hazy horizon.

Just sharing my experience as a complete newbie.
Timeline of events:
3/10 - S2B 3lb of B+ inoculated grain to 10lb bulk substrate from North Spore in a Max Yield Bin.
3/21 - Substrate 99% colonized. Introduced FAE by replacing tape with micropore tape and filters for the larger holes.
3/22 - Got laid off from work 😓
3/23 - Remember that 1% uncolonized substrate? There’s tiny spots of green. Light green. Pastel? Anyway this completely destroyed me because I already lost a job and now I’m potentially wasting money AND I don’t get to trip.. FML. I immediately brought it into the guest bathroom, dug out 1 inch around the contaminated area, making sure not to spill any like a big dummy (spoiler: I did, a few days later. Yeah, contam came back). After that, I soaked another 1 inch around the dug out part in isopropyl alcohol. Soaked it like a tiramisu, and lit the bitch on fire. Better to lose a chunk than the entire box.
3/24 - Thought I saw more contam, but it was actually blue. The mycelium was def a little traumatized. Good news was, no contam, and primordia was starting to form all around ground zero.
3/25 - Pin.
3/29 - A white patch appeared within ground zero overnight. I thought it was mycelium - it was white but it had brocolli head texture. I was pretty sure the contam was back. I soaked it in hydrogen peroxide this time, something I learned from this post.
Pics below are from today. Hopefully a harvest is due soon and the contam won’t return, but I’m fairly sure there won’t be a second flush. Thank you to everyone in this community for sharing your knowledge. It’s been a rough past week so cultivation is the only thing I look forward to every day.
PLEASE BE SUCCESSFUL 🙏

Just sharing my experience as a complete newbie.
Timeline of events:
3/10 - S2B 3lb of B+ inoculated grain to 10lb bulk substrate from North Spore in a Max Yield Bin.
3/21 - Substrate 99% colonized. Introduced FAE by replacing tape with micropore tape and filters for the larger holes.
3/22 - Got laid off from work 😓
3/23 - Remember that 1% uncolonized substrate? There’s tiny spots of green. Light green. Pastel? Anyway this completely destroyed me because I already lost a job and now I’m potentially wasting money AND I don’t get to trip.. FML. I immediately brought it into the guest bathroom, dug out 1 inch around the contaminated area, making sure not to spill any like a big dummy (spoiler: I did, a few days later. Yeah, contam came back). After that, I soaked another 1 inch around the dug out part in isopropyl alcohol. Soaked it like a tiramisu, and lit the bitch on fire. Better to lose a chunk than the entire box.
3/24 - Thought I saw more contam, but it was actually blue. The mycelium was def a little traumatized. Good news was, no contam, and primordia was starting to form all around ground zero.
3/25 - Pin.
3/29 - A white patch appeared within ground zero overnight. I thought it was mycelium - it was white but it had brocolli head texture. I was pretty sure the contam was back. I soaked it in hydrogen peroxide this time, something I learned from this post.
Pics below are from today. Hopefully a harvest is due soon and the contam won’t return, but I’m fairly sure there won’t be a second flush. Thank you to everyone in this community for sharing your knowledge. It’s been a rough past week so cultivation is the only thing I look forward to every day.
PLEASE BE SUCCESSFUL 🙏

So I've been randomly having this issue since I got my 3090 last year and I cannot figure out why. It happened on Windows 10 and continues to happen on a clean install of Windows 11.
Sometimes my monitors will not wake up (2 x Gigabyte G27Q). Usually it's just one of two that doesn't, most times my secondary one and if I turn it off and back on, usually it fixes it, but in the past it wouldn't and I'd actually have to restart the PC. I'm 99% sure it has something to do with the wonky firmware on these monitors and some weird compatibility issues with some 30 series cards, because the 3090 works perfectly fine otherwise and the issue didn't happen with my 2080 Ti. I'd say it happens at least once a month, previously it was more frequent but I think driver updates have mitigated it somewhat.
I never sleep my PC. The monitors are set to sleep, but the actual PC is not, so shaking the mouse just needs to wake the monitors, not the whole PC.
Anyhow, in conjunction with that, sometimes when I move my mouse to press keys on the keyboard to wake my monitors, there is a massive delay, followed by beeping (sometimes 3-4 beeps in rapid succession if I touch the mouse, or if I press keys on the keyboard it will beep for each time I pressed a key) then eventually the monitors will wake up.
The beeping comes through my speakers (don't have a beeper speaker on the motherboard) and it sounds exactly like this: https://youtu.be/nc5MPmhW3tE?t=12
There are no errors or warnings that appear in Event Viewer when this happens but it's kind of starting to annoy me. Also as a note, it happened the other day while my monitors were on and I was on my desktop. I hadn't used the PC for about 10 minutes, I bumped the mouse when I sat back down and it did the beeps and then continued to operate as normal.
Mouse is a Logitech G502 Lightspeed.

Philosopher Stone College 1660
18-year-old Gondul stood in front of the giant building. She was a mere 20 feet from it, but the sight of it took her breath away. Philosopher Stone College is the place everyone and their mother was talking about. Everyone except Newton's mother The green grass was lightly touching the crystal clear water on the pond just below the small bridge. "This place is beautiful, Ikey," Gondul said as he turned around, facing Newton. Isaac had hit a growth spurt; the once shy 10 year old was now a 6 ft 5 young adult. "Ikey ? You still call me that. "Isaac chuckled slightly, cupping his hands to get a small amount of water from the steam. "Yeah, I've been calling you that for the longest time. Why stop now?" Gondul shrugged. The older man didn't reply, instead splashing cold spring water onto his face. He shook his head, allowing the brown curls to bounce off. "Come on now, I wanna explore the area before we start class," Gondul gave him a book.
Isaac moved the book away instead of staring at the sky, the light blue pastel color mixed with the flash of a rainbow. His once deep brown eyes turned the same color as the sky reflecting the multicolored light. Suddenly, flowers of different colors popped up from the ground, both of them. "Uh..Ikey," Gondul shook him, "You are in a trance-like state again." Isaac shook his head, his eyes turning brown again. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?" "Your magic," Gondul said, picking up the beautiful flowers he had created and putting them in her purse. "Right ..." Isaac awkwardly rubbed his hair. "You should probably control yourself a little better next time," Gondul pointed out. "Yeah, sorry," Isaac felt back. "It's not your fault, but I really don't want them to find out." Gondul rubbed her chin. "Maybe there is a way for you to repress it?" "Just long enough until school ends and we are alone?" "Magic isn't something you can just repress, darling. It's complicated," Isaac stated, turning a green apple into a red one. "Hhhmmmm," Gondul took the apple, taking a bite out of it, "I think I have an idea..."
"Hmm," Isaac stood up. "You can always dress up as a jester and pretend you are working on a play in case anybody asks any questions," Gondul pointed out. "A Jester?" Pretending ? Play ? " Isaac turned his head sideways. "Yes, people do it all the time, kind of like acting; maybe you can set up a stage play and write a play," she tried explaining it to him, showing as much enthusiasm as possible. "Uh, no," Isaac rejected the idea.
Gondul noticed the disappointment on his face. "You see, there's a few reasons: #1, I really don't wanna make a fool of myself by being dressed up as a complete idiot," Isaac raised a finger. "Yeah, that's a good point." Gondul realized that. "Magic #2 isn't something to joke about or pretend to do, especially since it's a very complex skill that has a grey area if my magic looks too convincing, well, we are busted," Isaac told her. "Okay, but how strong is your magic?" I'm sure you are good enough to fake it, or I could do the jester role, as Gondul debated. Isaac gave a heavy sigh. "There is no talking it out with you, is there?" Gondul patted him on the shoulder, giving him a smile. "If we play our cards right, we could earn money too!" I mean, instead of doing chores all day, we could study magic while pretending to be humans." "True ..." Isaac collected a few branches he snapped from the tree, making them into a pile.
"What are you doing?" Gondul helped him with the branches. "I plan on collecting a few things for my studies, such as branches, tree bark, and whatever I can find." Isaac dipped a tree branch inside the stream until a bright color emerged. Once he pulled the stream out, it turned into a wooden bowl. Newton filled it with water, staring at his own reflection. "Do you need any help on this?" Gondul asked. "No, this is something I need to do on my own. I can't see you getting hurt," Isaac muttered. "Can you repeat that last part, please?" Gondul gave him her book back. "I said go on; I'll catch up later," he lied. "Okay, Ikey," Gondul waved at him before taking a few steps. "Wait, Gondul," Isaac reached out to her, "Need something?" Gondul answered.
"I... do you think I'd make a good magician... like Galileo or my father?" he swallowed. "No," Gondul disagreed harshly, much to Newton's dismay. "I'm sorry for asking," Isaac groaned in defeat. "I know you would make a better one than any other one combined," her face grinned. "Gondul..." Isaac whispered, his back resting on the tree. "Good luck," Gondul ran across the bridge, jumping across the gate past a few other students. The University of Philosopher's Stone is a rather large place near the gated entrance. It's the type of place where it's easy to get lost. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," she said as she bumped into a few students wandering around the university like a lost child. "Hey, watch it!" a rude man yelled at her. "I'm sorry, it's just so crowded here," Gondul apologized. The brick walls have carvings layered around the walls of the university. Each carving has a specific symbol of stars or some form of astrology. There are hundreds of them, all lined up in two opposite columns. Gondul opened one of the doors, letting herself inside. "Holy moly..." sapphire blue eyes opened.
Inside Philosopher Stone University is what you would expect from such a prestigious, luxurious school. The floors were made out of marble-like rock with different decorations. Dozens of statues of various Greek gods stood by. Gondul felt intense pressure coming from the bone. Cold sweat dropped on the floor along with the excessive shivering. Was it nervousness? Fear? Excitement?the constant thoughts rattled Gondul's brain. "No ..." Gondul shook her head, sitting on the rails of the long stairs to slide off.
flash back
"Why are we going to Philosopher's Stone University?" Gondul asked, watching Isaac pack up his bags. "Grandma told me that Philosopher Stone was the first magic school to open up before it converted to a normal university after it became illegal." The school still opened, but they basically swept their past under the rug, Isaac explained. "Right... that's probably a myth though, right?" Gondul asked him. "Probably, but if there is just 1 person who can teach me what my father couldn't, then I'm willing to risk it even if it means death," Isaac mentioned. Gondul paused upon hearing that. Just kidding! Isaac gave a fake chuckle. "You have the worst sense of humor ever," Gondul pouted. The horse galloped across the open terrain. Gondul laid his head on Isaac's shoulder. "I'm going to miss Grandma Margary's blueberry pie." "Yeah, blueberries are my favorite, especially the way the crust sets on top of the bread," Isaac agreed.
Flash back ends
"There must be proof of some sort of magic." Gondul debated looking through the many doors with bizarre symbols. Being near Isaac for years had made her accustomed to feeling different types of energy. Being in a crowd of students, it was hard to tell which magical fields belonged to whom. It didn't help with the random birds flying around due to the number of open windows. "Hey shoo shoo!" Gondul moved away from the huge raven bouncing off random students. "Someone should really get rid of the bird infestation," someone complained. The raven flew away out of the window, leaving only its black feathers.
In another room was a huge area where the roof was made out of glass. A young man around the same age as Isaac and Gondul climbed on the fragile wood structure like monkey bars. His blond hair had a huge curl on top of it, along with expensive, elegant clothing compared to everyone else's. Once he got bored, he quickly fell off 12 feet, landing on his shoes.
"Thomas Alva Edison! "Didn't I tell you to stop playing around and get to class!?" A man yelled at him. The lamp in front of him completely obscured his face, leaving nothing but a lock of red hair. "Lighten up, pop!" Edison grabbed a Cream Filbert, taking a bite. "Pops?" The man's arm twitched. "I'M ONLY 13 YEARS OLDER THAN YOU." "Relax Isaac, I'm just playing with you," Edison said as he opened the door. "See you later, tutor."
Once the door closed, a raven teleported inside with a burst of red energy. The gem on top of its forehead is glowing. He flew towards the man named "Isaac," once again obscuring his face. "Oh, really?... no way," Isaac understood him. "I'll check it out," he snapped, turning the lights off.

I, am a 18 year old man and I have a boyfriend, problem is, he’s not real. I know this, I’m trying to convince him the same thing, but the arguments he makes are pretty good.
Now, I am what you would call, a pretty lonely person. At work I work a construction job, it sounds social, but I’m mainly put to work on the basement and fix the plumbing there, I hardly talk to anyone except for my Forman, who comes to check up on me, besides, the last two journeymen who worked with me always busted my chops and pissed me off, then leaving put a boat load of work onto me. After work I usually go to the gym, I’m pretty good at it, but I don’t like to talk to other people there because it’s my time and the gym is the one place where I know I’m strong and powerful enough that I’m looked to as an expert and a beacon of success. Why should I care about talking to other people?
I don’t want to think of myself as gay, but I do have a boyfriend, he’s very sweet and honestly one of my biggest fans. He likes to read and philosophize with me, he hates politics, but I couldn’t care for it much either. He usually wears earthy tones, brown graphic shirts and jeans, but a green or light grey coat suit him well. His best feature would have to be his smile, it’s nice and warm, very photogenic, that or his hair, it’s brown and messy, but on him it just looks cute. He works an office job, we don’t talk much on it, but it’s probably not too stressful for him. Our favorite little joke we have would be philosophical jokes, for instance, there’s one where we’ll see a cockroach and joke “Gregor, you lazy bum, get a job” and we usually chuckle for a bit. But the real thing we both love about each other is that we both like to be held. I being the top in this relationship enjoy holding him close while his head rests under mine, sometimes he’ll kiss at my neck, but I sometimes stroke his hair when he does that and it puts him to sleep. It’s honestly one of the most relaxing things, to be held by him and I couldn’t live without him.
My main concern is that he’s not real, I half want to convince myself that he is and other that he isn’t. I know it’s not healthy, but total isolation isn’t either. I tried convincing him that he’s not real, and I have some good points, but whenever I try to bring them up, he just kisses me on the lips and I can’t help but start to neck with him. It’s not like I can just say no, it’s rather intoxicating for this to happen.
I haven’t explained my situation to anyone I know, because they wouldn’t understand that I’m not gay, I just have a boyfriend. I’m not even sure what I am, I just don’t want to think about that, I tried asking my boyfriend, he said “I think you can solve that one for yourself”, I’m not sure what he ment by that, but I can’t and I don’t want to feel ashamed in front of him. I just wish I could understand why he’s in my life and how other people could see him, just not the people I know, so they don’t get the wrong idea.
I hope this doesn’t land me in the psych ward.

I just upgraded to a new macbook air. I got all my files moved over and started the process of wiping the old one to give it back to my husband (who very generously offered to let me use it for the last couple years). I shut it down after logging out of icloud and deleting the extra school user i had set up, and now it fully won't turn back on. No fans, no lights, no hd sound, nothing. I've tried a slow power cycle, reset the PRAM/NVRAM, reset the SMC... it does nothing. Power supply lights up green (it was fully charged when I shut it down) and the light indicator on the power supply doesn't flicker or change while attempting any sort of reset or startup. Any tips?

So with the hype of 10th edition around the corner, I cant stop thinking about what rules our units are going to get! And i was wanting to get y'alls ideas on what rules you'd like to see for our units. (For example, we have seen the Termaguant have the ability to move D6 inches when an enemy finishes a move within 9 inches of it.)
Note that these are rules that id LIKE to see, and not saying that these are what I think they will be. However, id like to hear both; your opinions on what you'd like to see, and what they most likely will end up with!
Here are some of my thoughts on rules if like to see...
1: Striketeams get a once per turn free overwatch (maybe the return of the "For the Greater good" rule?)
2: Breachers are allowed to disembark from a transport after it has moved.
3: Crisis suits get some kind of strike and fade deal. Like after they shoot maybe it is changed to D6 inches instead of flat 6 or something.
4: Stealth suits i think could get the ability to shoot and disapear to try and keep with the stealth theme. I see it like they shoot the closest target then you can take them off the board to "deepstrike" back in next turn. (I realize this can make them unkillable, but some kind of version like this would be neat.) Or maybe a 6 inch deepstrike? But... Idk why anyone would want that.
5: I want more love for the Ghostkeel, so i think it would be cool to give it a rule like its untargetable (like it has now) but it is like 12 inches instead of 18. Or maybe give it some kind of ability similar to the guant's but instead of moving d6 inches it "goes invisable" and you cant charge it or something.
6: for the Hammerhead, i know its gonna sound OP, but wouldnt it be cool to have a once per turn or once per game ability where it can shoot at something behind obscuring? Maybe it needs a marker light on the target but i think that would be neat, i mean it is a railgun.
7: if not for the Hammerhead, then how about for the skyway? I know you can just give the missiles indirect fire, so this isnt an ability, but id like for it to take on the role of artillery as well as anti air.
8: the Riptide has its nova reactor, and that is more of a built on thing, so i think maybe the riptide's ability should be something like, at the cost of 1 mortal wound, it acts on top bracket. Or maybe D3 mortals or something.
9: for the Broadside i feel like it should have some kind of ability that increases its leathality if it chooses to stay still. Or maybe it gains a bonus to shooting targets a certain distance away?
Now these are all VERY rough ideas and have no real depth to them, but the basic idea is there. What are some of your ideas? What are rules youd like to see?