Did tony beets die

I've seen a lot of posts saying that Tibalt may still be alive or that his fate is ambiguous. No, he is dead. He was confirmed dead by the author
Tibalt is dead. The author confirmed it
https://www.tumblr.com/seananmcguire/706808344235720704/did-tibalt-die-in-the-one-story
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I suggest everyone reread the Tibalt/Tyvar scene in MOM. It reads like a death scene. Tibalt was stabbed in the heart, let out a scream and then thrown off a bridge where the scream stopped. This compares with the other fight scene at the time (Ajani/Espeth) where Ajani was explicately stated to be still alive (albeit unconscious)

Hiya!
I'm looking for some good alpine routes to set as goals for my partner and I for while we're visiting her family in Bern and attending the IFSC competition happening then (as spectators).
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So, while there we want to plan a few days out in the mountains. Our goals are two-fold, to get a few more multipitch sport-only routes under our belts, and to practice our efficiency of movement, packing, etc. We won't be working on any glacier or ice skills. We're looking for approaches of 1-3 hours and climbs of 3-5 hours. We'll have our van to camp in, but our camping gear is not bivy friendly or particularly light. So overnighters may not be the right choice for this trip. I think just getting more confidence in alpine climbing, as well as long approaches (and the fitness needed to do a long approach, long climb, and make it back to the car without dying), will be good for another year of training 2023->2024, so that in 2024 we feel better prepared, understand WHY were training in a more grounded way, and can begin to focus on some of the other skills we need to learn for proper mountaineering (i.e. glacier travel, crevasse rescuing, self-rescue, glissade, etc.)
Last year, without much training at all, we did the very easy stuff on Stockhorn, as my partner's first multipitch climb, after practicing a basic swap lead, stack rope, bring one bag style of climb. Then two days later we hiked up and climbed Mittagflue. Though it was easy climbing, we were pretty tired after, and thus not in shape at all.
I have just read Training for New Alpinism, and now I'm reading Training for the Uphill Athlete, and next on the list is Eric Horst's book. I'm developing a training plan for me and my partner through these.
So now were going to take training a bit more seriously, build our aerobic base, up our max strength, and actually train antagonist muscle groups.
A little background:
My partner (34F) and I (32M) have been avid sport climbers for varying years (me since 2010, her since 2020), with varying levels of experience (I learned to trad climb and multi-pitch in a summer spent at Index, WA and Leavenworth, WA; she learned from me how to sport climb at Swanage & Portland, UK. Most recent peak on Sport was, both of us lead a 6c+ (~.11b). But due to overuse injuries and such we haven't climbed regularly in about a year. Our main focus will be on an aerobic base for our legs and for our climbing muscles.
What would you recommend? :D Are you gonna be around and want to show us the ropes, literally?
Thanks in advance!

Disclaimer: Neither of these positions are guaranteed as I'll get to soon. This is hypothetical as if I were offered both.
Background: I'm a bit rusty, but spent a bit over a year in a local pizza joint before they closed when business was too slow picking up post-lockdown. Just pizza, salad, and sandwiches. Open kitchen, only manner of cooking was a pizza oven, we all did everything, no servers, hand washed dishes, ran register and such. Also an okay home cook. Did spend a tiny bit of time other places, but (now resolved) health issues made it near impossible for me to physically hold a job in any field that would hire me. Turns out they're right when they say alcohol will kill you, cuz I almost died. Anyway...
I have two interviews coming up for two very different positions in two different kinds of restaurants. I was recommended for both places by old co-workers. Obviously it's not 100% I'll be offered both or even one, but my chances are good at both places with the recs. This is all hypothetical. They pay about the same.
Option 1: Manager at a smaller pizza chain, think Cici's but not quite. Shitty mass produced food. Guy who recommended me never even worked food service before he got in there and it seems like they just want someone who can manage and don't much care if you can cook. As stated, I've done pizza and a few other things, and I was assistant manager at a very large retailer for some time, but never managed a restaurant. I also hate dealing with customers and shitty people working under me, but between retail and food I've done it my whole adult life and can make it work. 40-50 hours a week, not awful for the industry.
Option 2: Line cook at a local restaurant and bar downtown. Scratch kitchen. Decent, real food. But I've never cooked on the line at a place with a full kitchen with multiple stations. I can still learn, but I'm rusty on top of aging (30 years old) and potential brain damage. I would actually prefer this to get new knowledge, but don't know if I'll be able to keep up. Not an open kitchen and wouldn't have to deal with trying to keep people in "their place," just focus on getting a job done. Hours unknown thus far.
Both make me anxious, I haven't worked in general in months because of the whole almost dying thing. But imagine if both of these were offered to you, what would you rather do?

I've always wanted to drink alcohol, but never had the strength. You see, in my family, alcohol is essentially water. My mother, father, and their parents drank excessively throughout their lives and drowned in their consumption. It was a terrible thing to watch. After seeing my father Keel over and pass away with yellow skin after his liver failed I promised myself never to drink. Maybe it's genetic, maybe it's curiosity, but I've never understood my strong desire to drink after seeing what I have. My father, as previously mentioned, died from cirrhosis, however this did not come suddenly. He had suffering from this condition for over a decade and never even stopped drinking. He didn't want to die, but his urge to drink just surpassed his desire to get better, and on that day, he had just finished his second bottle of brandy before tragedy struck. alcoholism is a complicated, destructive and absusive set of circumstances that cannot be truely understood unless you've seen it. I have never in my life had even single drop of alcohol as I am too scared of the consequences. I was proud to say this, that I have gone 53 years alcohol free, disease free, with a functioning liver and a sustainable future. But after downloading this app, I just wish I started drinking earlier. Easily a 0/10 do not recommend.

Read a post this morning on here that just got me thinking a little. But do we stay at churches, sometimes forever, due to a sense of loyalty or betrayal if we move on? For years my wife and I were members of a church and for her it was maybe 40 years of her life and for me less but a long time. But we eventually moved out to a mountainous/farming country area. We checked numerous churches in the denomination we had just left and we found while there were plenty around it was a dying church in this area. "Dying church" were words used by a friend who is a member of one of these churches. The make up was almost elderly folks with very few kids or young adults. We finally decided to visit a local church that was a denomination we'd never visited before and knew nothing about. We were struck right away at the friendly and very welcoming body of members. All were so friendly to my wife and I. TBH the pastor did not really move me although my wife was more impressed. But we went back for another visit and we found they had kids, teens and young adults as well as many older folks and they had programs. (We wanted this is a church) Sunday School, yearly programs for Easter and so on. We fell in love with the church and the people here. We were never pressured to join at all by anyone there. This church is not a large church at all and post covid we are seeing maybe 115-125 every Sunday. Some are still watching the livestream we added during covid. But we loved the people here and we just felt at home here. We've been here a number of years now and I am more involved in a church than I have ever been in my many years. Deacon and have served on the board and committees. My point being is that sometimes we may just need a change. Not all churches can fill the spiritual needs we may have so try another one. You may have to try more than one. But you may find yourself a newly revitalized Christian once you find that church that just feels right. God surely led us to the church and we are so fortunate for this. So if not sure about your church then pray on it and if so moved start looking at others to see if that need can be met. Blessings to all.

PODCAST: https://ayearofwarandpeace.podbean.com/e/ep1510-hail-and-farewell-george-moore-ave-chapter-63/
PROMPTS: byo
Today's Reading, via Project Gutenberg:
The station is about a mile distant from the town, whither the hotel omnibus took us, and having ordered dinner to be ready in an hour's time, we went out to see the streets, Edward, as usual, seeking the church, which was found at last. But I did not follow him into it, the evening being so fine that it seemed to me shameful to miss any moment of it. Never were the streets of Rothenburg more beautiful than that evening, not even when the costumes of old time moved through them. A more beautiful sky never unfolded, and girls, passing with alert steps and roguish glances, answering their admirers with sallies of impertinent humour, are always delightful. They and the sky absorbed my attention, for it is natural for me to admire what is permanent, whereas Edward is attached to the transitory. He had just come out of the church, where he had discovered a few bits of old glass, and he was talking of these eagerly, and congratulating himself that we had seen everything there was to be seen in Rothenburg, and would be able to go away next morning. His hurry to leave shocked me not a little. It semed indeed like an insult to go into a town, look about one, and rush away again without bestowing a thought upon the people who lived in it. So did I speak to him, telling him that while he had been poking about in the church I had been thinking of a sojourn of six months in Rothenburg in some pretty lodging which one could easily find tomorrow, and the attendance of a sweet German girl. From her it would be possible to learn a little German, rejoicing in her presence in the room while she repeated a phrase, so that we might catch the sound of the words. At the end of the day it would be pleasant to wander with my few mouthfuls of German into the fields, and make new acquaintances. The whole of my life would not be spent in Rothenburg, but enough of it to acquire a memory of Rothenburg. But Edward did not understand me. All he cared to study were the monuments and the public buildings, and from them he could learn all there was worth knowing about the people that had made them, all people being more or less disagreeable to him, I said to myself; especially women, I added, noticing that he averted his eyes from the girls that passed in twos and threes; and as if desirous to distract my attention from them, he called upon me to admire a very wide, red-tiled roof, and some old lanterns hung on a chain across the street. These things and the hillside over against our window interested Edward more than any man or woman could; quaint little houses went up the hillside like the houses in Dürer's pictures. There are quite a number of them in his picture of Fortune. Everybody knows the woman who stands on the world holding a chalice in one hand; she does not hold it straight, as she would have done if the painter had been an inferior artist: Dürer leaned it a little towards the spectator. Over one arm hangs some curious bridle, at least in the engraving it seems to be a bridle with many bits and chains; and every one of these and the reins are drawn with a precision which gives them beauty. Dürer's eyes saw very clearly, and they had to see clearly, and steadily, to interest us in that great rump and thigh. One wonders who the model was, and why Dürer chose her. Degas more than once drew a creature as short-legged and as bulky, and the model he chose was the wife of a butcher in the Rue La Rochefoucauld. The poor creature arrived in all her finery, the clothes which she wore when she went to Mass on Sunday, and her amazement and her disappointment are easily imagined when Degas told her he wanted her to pose for the naked. She was accompanied by her husband, and knowing her to be not exactly a Venus de Milo, he tried to dissuade Degas, and Edward who has had little experience of life, expressed surprise that a husband should not guard his wife's honour more vigilantly; but he laughed when I told that Degas had assured the butcher that the erotic sentiment was not strong in him, and he liked my description of the poor, deformed creature standing in front of a tin bath, gripping her flanks with both hands—his bias towards ecclesiasticism enables him to sympathise with the Middle Ages, and its inherent tendency to regard women as inferior, and to keep them out of sight.
It's strange, I said to myself, to feel so different from one's fellows, to be exempt from all interest and solicitude for the female, to be uninfluenced by that beauty which sex dowers her with, and which achieves such marvels in the heart. We go to our mistresses as to Goddesses, and the peasant, though he does not think of Goddesses, thinks of the wife waiting for him at his fireside, with a tender, kindly emotion of which the labour of the fields has not been able to rob him. It's wonderful to come into the world unconcerned with the other sex, Edward.
You think I hate women. You're quite wrong. I don't hate women, only they seem absurd. When I see them going along the streets together they make me laugh; their hats and feathers, everything about them.
We come into the world, Edward, with different minds; that is a thing we can't remember too often. What makes you laugh enchants me. Nature has given us companions as different from us as the birds of the air, and for that I shall always feel grateful to Nature.
And then, just for the sake of expressing myself, though I knew that Edward would never understand, I told him that the coming of a woman into the room was like a delicious change of light.
Without women we should be all reasonable, Edward; there would be no instinct, and a reasonable world—what would it be like? A garden without flowers, music without melody.
But these comparisons did not satisfy me, and seeking for another one I hit upon this, and it seemed to express my meaning better: without women the world would be like a palette set in the raw umber and white. Women are the colouring matter, the glaze the old painters used. Edward wanted information as to the method employed by the old painters, but I preferred to develop my theme, telling him that a mother's affection for her daughter was quite different from her affection for her son, and that when a father looks upon his daughter he hears the love that he bore her mother echoed down the years, and muttering the old saw God is Love, I said that it would be much truer to invert the words, considering religion as a development of the romance which begins on earth.
To one who realises hell more clearly than heaven, and to one so temperamentally narrow as my friend, it must have been disagreeable to hear me say that religion has helped many to raise sex from earth to heaven; to instance Teresa as an example, saying how she has, in hundreds of pages of verse and prose, told her happy fate, that, by resigning an earthly, she has acquired an eternal Bridegroom.
It was in the second or third century that the Church became aware that heaven without a virgin could not commend itself to man's imagination, but the adoration of the Virgin, said to be encouraged by the Catholic Church, has never been realised by any saint that I know of—not even by St Bernard. Nor is this altogether to be wondered at; the Virgin is always represented with a baby in her arms: motherhood is her constant occupation, and I can imagine Edward, to whom all exhibition of sex is disagreeable, being not a little shocked at the insistence of certain painters on the breast, the nipple, and the gluttonous lips of the child. The exhibition which women make of their bosoms at dinner-parties has always struck him as somewhat ludicrous. Full-blown roses, he used to call them, reminding him of the flower-maidens in Klinsor's garden.
Who could not tempt Parsifal, and would not tempt you, Edward. But would you have yelled as he did when Kundry tried to kiss him?
By one of those intricate and elaborate analogies of thought which surprise us, Parsifal took me back to my chambers in King's Bench Walk, and I told Edward how, when I was writing Esther Waters, it was a help to me to gossip with my laundress after breakfast, a pious woman of the Nonconformist type, like Esther herself. Almost any topical event provided a basis for ethical discussion; a divorce case best of all, and the O'Shea divorce and Parnell's complicity seemed to me to be the very thing. But it was impossible to engage her attention, and soon it was evident that she was much more interested in a certain murder case—a Mrs Percy who had murdered another woman's baby, and hidden it in a perambulator. It was the perambulator that gave the story the touch of realism that appealed to my laundress's imagination. But the murder of a baby offering little scope for ethical discussion, I took advantage of the first break in the flow of her conversation to remind her that the crimes were not parallel.
Don't you think so, sir? And I can still see her rolling her apron about her arms. It comes to the same thing in the end, sir, for when one party goes away with the other party, the party that's left behind dies.
Her view of life interested me; the importance of desertion is greater among the lower classes than it is among the upper; but it could not be doubted that she was telling me what she had heard from the parson rather than any view of her own, drawn from her experience. Therefore, to get at herself, to force her into direct personal expression, I said:
You can't seriously maintain, Mrs Millar, that adultery is as great a crime as murder?
Still winding her coarse apron round her arms, she stood looking at me, her eyes perplexed and ambiguous, and I thought of how I might move her out of her position.
You know your Bible, Mrs Millar? You know the story of the woman of Samaria? And you remember that Christ forbade the people to stone her, and told her to sin no more?... Mrs Millar, you can't deny that Christ said that ... and you are a Christian woman.
Yes, sir, he did say that; but you must remember he was only a bachelor.
I think I fell back in my chair and looked at my laundress in amazement, until she began to wonder what was the matter, and she must have wondered the more when I told her she had said something which I should never forget.
But what I said is true, isn't it? she answered shyly.
Yes, it's quite true, only nobody ever thought of it before, Mrs Millar! It's true that the married man who brings home his wages at the end of the week is the one that understands life, and you are quite right to condone Christ's laxity in not pronouncing a fuller condemnation. You are quite right. The bachelor may not attain to any full comprehension of the 'ome.
She left the room, confused and wondering at my praise, thinking that she had answered as everybody would have answered, and conscious of having expressed national sentiments.
Dear Irish Edward was shocked by Mrs Millar's theology at first, but hearing that she was a pious woman, he roused a little, and, lest he might reproach Protestantism for its married clergy, I reminded him that Rome still retained married clergy in Greece. His answer was that he was sure the Greek priests abstained from their wives before their ministrations, an answer that rejoiced my heart exceedingly, and set me thinking that the Western mind has never been able to assimilate, or even understand, the ideas that Christianity brought from the East. Our notions of the value of chastity are crude enough, and the Brahmin would life his eyes in silent contempt on hearing from a priest that a man, if he lives chastely, though he be a glutton and a drunkard, will never descend to so low a stage of materialism as he that lives with a woman ... even if his life be strict. The oddest of all animals is man; in him, as in all other animals, the sexual interest is the strongest; yet the desire is inveterate in him to reject it; and I am sure that Christ's words that in heaven there is neither marriage nor giving in marriage have taken a great weight off Edward's mind, and must have inspired in him many prayers for a small stool in heaven. If by any chance he should not get one (which is, of course, unthinkable) and finds himself among the damned, his plight will be worse than ever, for I suppose he will have no opportunity for correcting his natural disinclination, and I believe no theologian has yet decided that the damned do not continue to commit the sins in hell which they were damned for committing on earth.
Edward always leads me to think of the Middle Ages, but he also leads me to think sometimes of the ages that preceded these. There are survivals of pagan rites in Christianity, and in every man there is a survival of the pagan that preceded him; paganism is primordial fire, and it is always breaking through the Christian crust. We know of the eruption that took place in Italy in the sixteenth century, and, though the pagan Edward lies in durance vile, Edward is, in common with every other human being, no more than a pagan overlaid with Christianity. If three men meet in The Heather Field to speak of the misfortune that comes to a man when he allows himself to be inveigled by woman's beauty, they express, every one of them, a craving for some higher beauty, and this craving finds beautiful expression in the scene between Carden Tyrrell and his brother; and the same craving for some beauty, half imagined, something which the world has lost, is the theme of Maeve. She renounces earthly love, and dreams of a hero of Celtic romance, and in her last sleep he visits her at the head of a wonderful assemblage. Edward's paganism finds fuller expression in The Enchanted Sea than in any other play. In the depths of green sea-water, we catch sight of the face of the beautiful boy, Guy, whose drowning causes Lord Mark such blinding despair that he walks like one enchanted into the sea, and is carried away by the waves. More in this play than in the others do we catch a glimpse of the author's earlier soul, for every soul proceeds out of paganism; only in Edward the twain are more distinct; neither has absorbed the other, both exist contemporaneously and side by side—a Greek marble may be found enfolded in a friar's frock.

I want to thank everyone here in this subreddit and afterwards I will destroy this account.
Thank you for everyone here to discuss Nietzshce with me and lots of posts here was extremely useful for me when I was totally strange to Nieztsche's concept. And it's your existence that encourages me to commence reading not for examinations or for fun but rather for his sincere philosophy.
But I think it's high time for me to be mature and graduated from this sub because since I read Nietzsche's real works, I find most posts here extremely superficial. Of course the only thing changes is actually myself. To me it's no longer worthwhile to have this kind of entertainment since I can directly communicate cheerfully with Nietzsche by reading, making notes and memorizing his works.
After the first attempt that I memorized his "war and warrior" in tsz, for example, while I was washing my dishes, then his words accidentally came upon my head like a melodious symphony. That's the moment I feel all my pain in learning by heart is worthwhile.
Also as English is not my first language, my favorite hobby now turns into translating and then memorizing from the version of my mother langauge to my own English interpretation after reading different versions of English translations, which is extremely helpful for my improvement in English because of tremendous synonyms and similar phrases I have learnt from this new hobby.
Sometimes I regret that I don't know the original German so that I cannot appreciate his word-play, but sometimes I affirm myself it is this shortcoming that permits myself to accept different interpretaions and finally form my own interpretation.
Thank you, redditors, for the fire you first ignited into the chaos in my heart. Now may one day I will be a dancing star like Nietzsche, or just myself, a free spirit, a overman, a life-affirming writer like Nietzsche and begin my journey to enjoy the word, world, creation and interpretation.
In my last question, when I ask which is better, long but painful life or short but happy life, someone replies to me that it all depends on your will to power because anyone can "distort" one's own persecptive of world to form a new value system. Yes, when I first read Nietzsche, my heart was full of doubt and impulse to find what is my meaning of life which now are turned into an unrelenting love even if some unfortunate things happened because I find my importance in reading and writing. (So of course when I cannot read or hear entirely, I will definitely kill myself because it stands to my new principle: die like a dignified warrior.)
Reading Nietzsche definitely change my own world view thoroughly than anyone including my parents, and I want to learn, enjoy and create more fun things and people in my short lifespan, so that ultimately like Nietzsche in his mature age I can develop my own philosophy as what he said in tsz:

Ye say, ye believe in Zarathustra? But of what account is Zarathustra! Ye are my believers: but of what account are all believers!
Ye had not yet sought yourselves: then did ye find me. So do all believers; therefore all belief is of so little account.
Now do I bid you lose me and find yourselves; and only when ye have all denied me, will I return unto you.
Verily, with other eyes, my brethren, shall I then seek my lost ones; with another love shall I then love you.
And once again shall ye have become friends unto me, and children of one hope: then will I be with you for the third time, to celebrate the great noontide with you.
And it is the great noontide, when man is in the middle of his course between animal and Superman, and celebrateth his advance to the evening as his highest hope: for it is the advance to a new morning.
At such time will the down–goer bless himself, that he should be an over–goer; and the sun of his knowledge will be at noontide. "DEAD ARE ALL THE GODS: NOW DO WE DESIRE THE SUPERMAN TO LIVE."—Let this be our final will at the great noontide!—
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Hades tells Zelena that he made the underworld this way for her, but I have a hard time believing this, because:

1. There are many characters who died long before Storybrooke or Zelena was born (Captain Silver and Liam, Milah)
2. Most of the time, Hades lies to Zelena
   1. When they reunite in the underworld, Hades tells Zelena how "despite my best intentions, things don't grow here: they decay", implying he did try to make things grow in the underworld. But in the next episode, his whole motivation is to destroy hope that is causing flowers to bloom, contradicting what he said to Zelena
   2. Literally lied and breaking a deal so that the heroes remained trapped in the underworld library while he and Zelena returned to the overworld
   3. Lied to Zelena again about Robin's death in the hope Zelena would turn on Regina

Therefore, I'm of the opinion the Black Fairy wanted to create a "fate worse than death" in the mechanisms of the Dark Curse. And Rumple implied that the underworld is worse than could be imagined, which it is because souls in the underworld are unable to move on, trapped for eternity. Which coming to think it, is similar to the pausing of time in Storybrooke

Welcome new readers. Please start with chapter one https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/11ai7iv/last_of_the_defenders_ch_01/
Previously https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/11x94mq/last_of_the_defenders_ch_26/
It took hours. Allah realized the sun was walking away when they finally stepped out of the great quorum hall. Ada’key’hamda and Allah’hem’nrah walked to either side of Li, a group of elders and tradesmen flocking behind. They carried charcoal and papers, hastily drawn maps and long scrolls of lists--names of the future displaced, materials to be salvaged, and more workers than she could count--as they jostled to be heard over each other.
Allah glanced over her shoulder as the wide double doors began to close, ears twitching frustratingly at Marn’charlie’weh who stood on the dais still, amber eyes glowing with barely contained fury. She had been the most vocal of the group surrounding her now, the Detractors Allah called them in her mind. Most of their arguments had been weighed and addressed--even bringing forth solutions to unforeseen problems as the idea of extending the roads had progressed from Li’s ultimatum into cooperative planning.
Both sides had compromised. The southern Smithhall and much more of the buildings between the outpost and the outer wall would be torn down. The proposed road to the north would be almost doubled in width too, to accommodate the increase in traffic. More importantly, to Allah’s way of thinking, were the inclusion of U’knock work crews into Li’s plan. Her people would oversee the construction of the roads and tearing down the city’s outer wall to make rapidly usable materials.
It had been that last point that nearly set Allah’hem’nrah and Marn’charlie’weh to blows. This had only been the second quorum she had been honored to sit in, neither of them as a member, but the vociferousness and vitriol that passed from mouth to ear had startled her.
“You claim a need to protect our people!” Allah could still remember Marn’charlie’weh shout. It had woken her from her dozing. “And with the other paw you rip down the very walls that shelter us! Holes in the inner ring? Dismantling the outer? Will you take all of our warrior caste with you to fight the bullies too? If they are bullies!”
Li had risen from the floor to confront the black elder, Marn’charlie’weh almost twice the height of the human even then, but a spotted paw thrust between them and Allah’hem’nrah walked to block her.
“I will not be shamed,” she roared, the only time the stalwart pride mother raised her voice, “by this council as to cower and hide while a cub fights for our lives!”
She had pointed to Allah who, at the time, was shamelessly curled up on a cushion. The cub, roused from her dozing, sat up, licked a forepaw and made a show of grooming her fur. It was not Allah’s fault she had fallen asleep; they would not stop talking! On and on they went, arguing over the most minute details only to circle back on a once settled matter and point out how doing one thing would somehow upset two others. Even when it did not. Especially when it did not!
“The warriors will fight in this war!” and the proclamation from Allah’hem’nrah had elicited a scattered cheer from half the quorum.
Li had spent much of the quorum kneeling on a Nameday cushion--anything larger than the small pad used to carry kits to the quorum when they opened their eyes would have swallowed her--sipping water from a clay cup and only put in suggestions when directly asked. Which became less and less frequent as the day dragged on toward night. Allah only realized how long they had been there when Jung reminded her to take her pill!
“I think,” Li had said, rising from her cushion and stretching, “we’ve settled what we can in one day.” Allah rose to follow, eager to be away from these screaming, argumentative adults. “If you have something of substance to add, I’ll be outside the south gate at sunrise,” and the last of her words had a hint of warning, “about an hour before the first tank is scheduled to roll out.”
With that, Li rose, bowed to the throne dais, and strode purposely from the great hall.
And now they walked, not as unwelcomed outlanders who should be chased off, but as people of importance whose presence was harkened by quorum members begging attention.
Or, at the least, Li did. Allah found herself carefully shuffled further and further away from her friend, carefully avoiding elders who jostled past her and ever more dangerously close to the taser belt’s kiss. They did not seem to care, even knowing what the belt could do after Li explained its workings and Guard Captain Fen’ja--belatedly arrived, washed and no longer twitching--had confirmed.
Perhaps, Allah considered, another demonstration was in order. Let one brush up against her? And through a wall? She set such petty thoughts aside. These people were preparing as if for a great storm coming to the land. Shoring up the city for a blizzard named Li.
And the bully horde that followed.
Allah contented herself with being persistently pushed back. If she could contribute, she would try. What she was asked, she would answer. And she would not fault Li. Her friend had been as good as her word and as they stepped outside the cub saw a scribe carrying a stack of posters in her paws, could hear a crier chant “Fey’arna of Hada’neha is requested and required to make his presence known to the nearest city guard. A reward is offered for his safe return.” Surely her father would be found soon, news of him at the least and Allah would go to him.
But for now, Allah had made a promise to Li. She would stand beside her friend…if these quorum members ever got out of the way…
Allah busied her eyes and ears in learning this new place. The smell was only U’knock, a packed down scent of many bodies forced together. It reminded her of the mob. Even as the sun was setting behind the tall buildings the street was alive. Tradeswomen and males carried their goods, families shopped at stalls and cubs ran in play or just from the joy of slipping a father’s leash for a time. The buildings were all taller than any hut, packed into squares and high roofed rectangles. Only the doors and the largest structures were domed. Even the glass in the new windows had straight, with sharp unnatural edges.
That was the word Umati’clam conjured to her: unnatural. Even with so many--because there were so many--of her people packed within, Allah felt more and more like a stranger in these confines. How long had she dreamed of walking the fabled city streets? Now she would give up her tail to curl up on her cushion in front of the fireplace, claw the rough burlap and kneed the straw inside to lay her head down and rest. To be home and safe again.
With her fa.
She was not expecting guards when they reached the wall. Four of the metal humans stepped outside the bubble as it popped, speaking in Demeter’s voice.
“Stand away from the entrance,” they said as one, raising black bowless Com’cha with those deadly tubes in their place. “This is your only warning.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Li said by way of apology as the throng of quorum members receded slowly from the opening wall, “but our timetable is going to be tight. Remember Allah’hem’nrah,” she continued, motioning Allah to step forward, “I want at least two level headed warriors per village. These people are not beggars or simply displaced. And they may be vital to rebuilding your home.”
“I do not see how,” the spotted warrior stepped back as Allah stepped closer, “but we will do as you command, Defender.”
“Uh uh,” Li admonished, wagging a finger at the massive U’knock.
“Li,” Allah’hem’nrah corrected, her lips tightening.
Li gestured to Allah again and the two stepped through.
“Could not your ambassador,” Ada’key’hamda called but did not step past the robot guards, gray fur bristling as the first night wind chilled her, “stay with us longer, Friend Li? We still have questions she might be uniquely capable of answering.”
Li and Allah both turned back, the human grinning with a light bow. “That holds true for me too,” the human said softly. “Unfortunately, Allah’s duties at the moment will be keeping her close to me. Any questions can be relayed through these droids,” she gestured to the armed machines. “They can relay any pertinent queries to Jung or myself through Demeter.”
The wall began to seal itself and Allah’hem’nrah raised one paw in the air, waving it back and forth. “Gud B’eye!” the spotted warrior called.
“Bài bài,” Li wiggled her fingers and the massive U’knock chuffed. As the hole in the wall sealed, the sounds of the city silenced. Allah looked up to see the bubble shimmer in place.
Li slumped her shoulders, stretched and yawned. “Now that’s over with,” she said tiredly, “you want something to eat?”
“I am honored to share your table again,” Allah nodded a bow of thanks as Li turned toward the spire, “but what ‘other’ duties do I have?”
“Mostly?” Li winked as she glanced over her shoulder, “Staying clear of Ada’key’hamda. And Marn’charlie’weh, for that matter.” The human frowned at the blank expression on Allah’s face. “Don’t get me wrong, I like that old gray ‘māo’,” Jung translated the word as a subspecies of Earth native animals with an image that explained much of Li’s previous jibes, “but I don’t trust her any further than I can throw her. Or Allah’hem’nrah if it comes to it. Not fully.”
“Why not?” Allah turned back to the closed wall gate. The pair had quickly become the most vocal supporters of Li’s side during the quorum. “They seemed to trust you.”
“Allah’hem’nrah does,” Li confessed, “or at least she believes me a ‘defender’ and understands the threat the swarmers pose. Sounds like she was breastfed war stories as a kit,” Li scratched her head, combing her hair with her fingers, “but she’s gonna do what she thinks is best for her people. And that might not be what's best for the U’knock. Or winning this war.”
Allah considered this. She wanted to say an honored elder would not be so dishonest but…Ana’nut’hana’s betrayal of her father…their exile reminded the cub that no matter how unified the U’knock love of Defenders and hate for bullies was supposed to be, a shallow cup could not hold deep water. If her own mayor could do such to her and Fey’arna then what were strangers capable of?
“And Ada’key’hamda?” she asked with interest. They had passed the landing pad and rapidly closed on the doors to the spire.
“That woman?” Li grinned lopsidedly as the double doors whooshed open, “is what my people call a ‘kingmaker’,” she waved away Allah’s questions, “it means she is a pure blood politician; shrewd and devious. She only sided with us because she knew where the winds were blowing.”
“I hope,” Allah confided, stepping into the noisy chaos of the garage, “that you are wrong.” Her voice rose to a shout above the hissing, clanging commotion.
“I hope I’m not!” Li answered as they hurried past the noisy room and into the hallway. Once the noise of work had died to a dull den she explained. “We’re going to need somebody that conniving on our side to keep Marn’charlie’weh in check. Um…at bay.”
“Jung explained chess,” Allah answered the unspoken question. “And go.”
“Gooood!” Li’s smile must have been more predatory than intended, Allah assumed, as the human showed her teeth. “I’ve got a board in my quarters aboard the Stardancer. Fancy a game when he gets back?”
“I would rather know,” Allah nodded at the offer, “why you need two warriors to travel to the villages.”
“Ah,” Li turned at a crossroads in the hallway, then looked up “Demeter, where’s the nearest mess hall?”
The pleasant voice had returned as a blue beam illuminated. “Please follow the indicated footpath!” Li quickly strode onward.
“Is there any food available for carbon based consumption?”
There was no response as Li and Allah followed the glowing blue line. “Demeter, is there any food available for carbon based consumption?”
“Stores are restocked from the garden every fifty years, cooked and freeze dried for long term access! We have a selection of prepackaged meals ready to eat! Just add hot water and--”
“Demeter,” Allah interrupted as they entered a large room filled with long beaches and tables, “Please be quiet.” Then, to Li she said “You are avoiding my question.”
“I wasn’t avoiding,” Li said in a scolding tone, “I was stalling. There’s a difference. Demeter? Where’s the food!?!”
“Li,” Allah’s tone was stern and pleading at the same time, “Why?”
The human stopped in the center of the room, shoulders slumping. “I kinda wished you’d’ve been awake for that part. It didn’t go over too well with the quorum either.”
“Stop stalling,” Allah admonished, “What is wrong?”
“Allah,” Li stood in the center of the room, raised and then lowered her hands. “Allah,“ she said, “I need you to prepare yourself. What happened last night was only the opening salvo. Things are going to get worse. A lot worse before we’re done here.”
“The U’knock are accustomed to hardship,” Allah straightened. “We will persevere.“
Li shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I know your people are strong. I know they’re proud, and I believe they will fight for their home. But are they willing to leave their lives behind to do it?”
“Leave?” Allah pursed her lips and thought. “Why would we need to leave their lives?“
“We don’t have a full planetary shield around this rock,” Li answered. “The safest place for them is going to be in Umati’clam. They’ll have to relocate. All of the villages will have to relocate.
“And,” from the expression on the human’s face, the news she gave was worse than it sounded when she said “Some of them might not make it.”

I bought my AD600 Pro back in November, and I shot a maximum of 2k photos with it. I was using it indoor with a large parabolic umbrella, out of nowhere it fails two shots, it works for one shot after that, and then it didn't work again.
Everything works (modelling lamp, etc.) except the flash tube actually firing, either remotely triggering or using the flash test button. How is it possible that the flash tube died so soon? It was indoor, it was not hot, the flash was inside a huge umbrella (not a tight space). Could it break from overheating? But wouldn't the flash unit supposed to stop if it sees its overheating?
I don't know if I should drop 150 on a new flash tube, or spend 30 in shipping to send the whole unit to warranty, because Idk if the problem lies in the flash tube or the unit.
What sucks is I can't use the warranty for the flash tube because it's 5 month old and they only cover 3 months for the consumables...
What do you think is the problem?

• Author's Note: Do not ask where this came from... it just did. My writing goblin had been nagging me to put this in writing since last night, so honestly it might have mistakes in it, the pacing and premise might be weird... but it helped my brain settle. Anyways, enjoy!

William Falis, born somewhere around the late 1300s or early 1400s by Earth's time, somewhere in Europe, first born son of a low ranking noble, one of many to come and go along human history. His story lost to time and unknown by his own people.
His life has been most usual from birth up until his mid twenties. The boy, like many others, had grown with knights being a main leading force in his country's lands and many around it. Looking up to the profession with a romanticized view, the young man grew upholding the views of knights of story, even being closer to something akin to a paladin in virtues. Like any person he had his moments of weakness and his vices, but his love for the meaning of the word 'knight' and the power behind what it meant to be one, always held him closer to a righteous path, more than many others.
His unique story begins when William was about the late age of 25, already having lived half of his life. While on his way back home after participating in a siege while on the attacking side, his attention was drawn to some bright blue lights off into the distant horizon, shining from the thick depths of a near by forest.
As he was on horse back, William stopped his mount's speedy galop as he gazed confused upon the bizzare lights. "Oh, what a light of azure shines through to mine eyes from the depths of the forest. Godly and angelic, tis a sign from God Himself, surely. He must be calling for me to meet him, why else would I be graced by this miracle?"
He took a moment to find a place to loosely tie his horse to and give its head a few gentle pets. "Do not worry, Stevellion. I shall cometh back to you, but should danger cometh for you, hear my plea and run akin to the wind. The wood is too thick with brush and root for you to safely traverse it. I shall return, post haste, mine steed."
Dressed in a light cloth garb with some padded leather armor on top, the knight grabbed his satchel, spear, sword at the hip and shield, from the horse and he set course into the wood. With decided steps he advanced, ready to meet his God and hear Him and His orders to him.
Meanwhile, at the source of the light deep into the woods laid a metal vessel of decent size, half buried into the earth. Tossed about and broken trees confirm a crash landing. Inside the space craft of a spherical shape, Azail and Gab'el, were just coming back to conciousness. They were nearly 7 feet tall and with a light blue complexion upon their wirey frames, the impact had shook them to their cores, bruises formed on their gentle features.
Azail, pushed back silvery white strands of hair as her golden eyes blinked slowly while she got her bearings. "Oh fuck... everything hurts. Agh-... Gab'el? You alive?" She groaned as she lifted her head up from their ship's console, looking to her co-pilot who was splaied on the floor.
"Y-yeah... agh... although I wish I wasn't..." Gab'el said as he shakily pushed up on his elbows, his four digits on each of his hands, feeling his face for damage.
"W-what happened? My head-... oof..." Azail said as she put a palm to her left temple, pulling away, dark blue blood was staining it.
"We got intercepted b-by a Daemar fighting vessel while getting out of Planet-347H's atmosphere. Evasive manuevers failed and we had to make a crash landing." Gab'el continued as he struggled to his feet making his way back to the console.
"Fucking hell... ugh... check with the xenobiologists over comms and see if they are alive in the back. I will send off an Emergency Signal and a message to the outpost we have on Planet-M4/R5. W-we... we gotta be quick and pray the signal reaches them or anyone really that can come quick."
Gab'el nodded as he got to it, trying the communicator he had a shared frequency eith everyone on board. "Luken, Ashi'in. Report on your state if you can hear this message. This is Gab'el. Over."
Azail got to work as well, setting their emergency beacon online and starting to record a message. "This is pilot Azail from the Anghelon Empire, pilot for the scientific vessel, designation 'Enlightenment', the xenobiology branch. We have crash landed on Planet-347H, situated within the 7th space sector. Crash landing was caused by a surprise attack made by a Daemar combat vessel. Send reinforcements and a medical unit asap. We are not clear of danger."
As Azail finished the message she could hear Gab'el swear angrily as he went to the locker storing their only Redemption Fighting Suit, which was only for emergency cases, which it seems, this was one of those.
"Gab, t-talk to me. What happened?" Azail mumbled loudly to her co-pilot as she inched her way towards him holding onto the wall of their decently sized cockpit.
"I got a hold of Lukin! Shit! It's stuck, fuck! He said, Daemars got their hands on Ashi'in, the back left side is busted open and they grabbed her as she was near the opening. I'm trying to get the suit out, but the damn door is busted." He growled man.
"We are wasting time. I'll grab the first aid kit, check your kinetic energy handarm for damage and we've got to mobilize." Azail said as she unholstered from her hip her weapon, gave it a quick look over and then went to grab the medical kit they had in storage under the console.
"Sigh, wish they let us issue our standard Rail Rifle for this mission, SPECIFICALLY because of shit like this. These dinky things won't do shit against Daemar armor." Gab'el said as he checked his gun while opening the doors leading from the cockpit to the small hallway with doors leading to their storage closet, small accomodations and the lab at the back.
The duo advanced carefully towards the lab doors that were already partially slid open, seemingly busted from the reck. Passing through them they had found Lukin hiding behind one of their research tables, which were standard issued as bolted to the floor. The scientist's left golden eye was busted swirling with his own blue blood .
"Hah! Azail, G-Gab'el. There's four of them, h-heard them talking about coming in for a sweep." The scientist, Luken, whispered with groans of pain. "They beat up my assistant, p-please do something!" He said desperate.
"Did you see what weapons they are using? Anything higher cal-" Gab'el began questioning, but a shot from a Rail Rifle ripping a hole in a different table answered his unfinished inquiry. "Ffffuck! If we live, I will kill our whole logistic department, the greedy fucks. They give us an old first gen RF Suit and they think its enough. Pieces of shit." He swore with fury, whispering exasperated as he went into proper cover besides the scientist.
Azail crouched near them as she peeked over cover and out the hole in the side of their ship. Four Daemar, indeed, all equipped with impact body suits that harden when struck by high velocity projectiles. "Ghah... at best our pistols are distractions."
Daemars were shorter in stature than Anghelons, mainly due to their long legs being double jointed with a joint bending back while the second one bent forward, their legs had thicker toes near akin to hooves and their backs were hunched heavily. When fully sprawled out they might actually beat Anghelons in length, which wasn't encouraging as they also seemed brawnier physically than them.
"Come on fellas, you have until the count of three or we blast this bluey's brains onto this forsaken shit planet's mud." One of the Daemars yelled out.
"Agh- fuck you, you red piece of crap!" Ashi'in yelled out which got her a kick in the jaw in return.
"Feisty fucking thing." Chuckled another who administired the blow.
At about this time, William had gotten closer and closer to the flashing blue light, hearing sounds of voices he couldn't understand he became wary of danger. Sneaking up through the brush he found his eyes gazing upon a scene he had a hard time understanding.
After his mind took a moment to process what his eyes saw, he arrived to one certain conclusion. "God hath called upon me to assist one of his angels upon which demons had been set. Oh what woe for such a divine being to have been befallen by!" he whispered angrily to himself.
'How dare they!' He thought with a wordless gasp as he witnessed one of the demons kick the angel in the head.
Insulted by the uncalled for strike upon the already subjugated angel, William stood, an iron grip on his spear. Holding his spear for a throw, Michael rushed out of the brush in a charge. "HOW DARE YE, VILE FIENDS! GET OFF THAT ANGEL! RHA!" He roared tossing the spear at the closest demon his eyes landed on.
Daemar's hearing the shouting turned confused seeing a human charge at them. "IS THAT A FUCKING NATIV- AGH!" The Daemar closest to William said exploding into a shriek of pain as the spear he tossed impaled his torso. "AGH! HAAAH! HA! HOW?! W-WHAT?!" It shrieked out as he grasped the spear's shaft that was stuck in him.
The reds in shock reacted really slowly, since the knight had enough time to continue his charge. He shield bashed with the edge of his shield the one who already got struck by the spear, retrieved his weapon and then shoved his spear once more into the unlucky one's throat.
"Shoot it!" Said a higher ranking Daemar as his two goons began pointing a rail rifle and a kinetic pistol at the leather armored knight.
Before they could fill the primitive native of the muddy planet with holes, the trio of Daemars got covered in a small volley of pistol fire from inside the ship.
William peered from where the flashes of light came and he could see more angels. He tossed his shield aside and using his free arm he lifted up Ashi'in onto his shoulder, which he seemed to do so with ease. "Pray forgive me your Divinity, but I must assist hastly!" He yelled as he bolted inside, slipped on the slanted metal floor and slid on his ass all the way to the back.
Gab'el, Luken and Azail looked wide eyed at William who's eyes sparkled with awe.
"Doc, can it understand us?" Gab'el asked as he took cover back behind the desk.
"W-we've been studying them for quite a bit and no, they shouldn't... I don't understand why it came to our assistance, its kind hates one anothers i-if they wear slightly different clothes! This is insane!"
Azail groaned impatient as she kept overwatch towards the opening into the ship. "Less talking, untie Ashi'in, you morons! You can gawk at the dirt mammal after we're done with this. Gab'el shoot it if it tries to do anything stupid."
"Uhh... Az, I think it's getting up to go out there." The co-pilot said uncertain as he undid the zip tie like bindings from Ashi'in's wrists behind her back.
William had indeed set Ashi'in down, who looked in a confused awe at him as he brushed some of her longer silvery locks from her face. "By God. You are a true beauty, truly God's children." William said gazing towards the others as he grasped his spear tighter.
He stood up confidently and began scaling the slanted floor towards the opening.
"Fucking hell, its going to kill itself." Gab'el said as he face palmed.
"M-maybe not. Despite his primite weapons he seemed like he could fight them. His species is rather sturdy and surprising. He might be able t-" before Lukin could finish his words, the group witnessed the primitive mammal go up to the opening, chuck his spear which got a yelp from one of the Daemars and then promptly get shot, based on the less scary sound, by the kinetic pistol.
William groaned, fell on his back, and like a pendulum, slid downwards once more at the back of the laboratory next to his 'angels'.
"Oh God! M-my heart! Ghah!" He said holding onto his chest.
"Oh, for the love of... these species on this planet are complete idiots." Gab'el said as as he went besides Azail, at this point not caring about the fate of their unlikely helper.
"God, could you be more heartless." Ashi'in said annoyed as she grabbed one of the arms of William. "Doc, help me pull him towards the back, quick, he's losing blood. Lets give the soldiers space and go to safety."
"R-right." Lukin said as he got a grip on William, and the two dragged him towards the cockpit with the first aid kit.
"Why do you think his attack worked?" Gab'el asked his colleague clearly confused by how a primitive's weapon could hurt a Daemar.
"I don't know... the suit is supposed to harden upon high velocity... impact..." that is when Azail's golden eyes glimmered with realization. "His spear is as slow as hell by comparison to our weapons... the armor doesn't register them."
The Anghelan woman then reached and took in her hands William's spear looking at it. "Gab' take this and sneak closer to the opening. If they approach I will shoot to distract, you stab."
"Eh, good of a plan as any other." The co-pilot sighed resignated at the situation before him. He took the primitive weapon and began his sudden suicide mission.
Back inside the cockpit, Lukin and Ashi'in, had dragged their unlikely native ally inside. The lead xeno biologist began looking over the heavily bleeding William, who seemed to be slowly dying. "Damn it, i think the bullet might have ruined the heart." He said as he began grabbing a few tools and bio sealant gel packets, and basically tried to patch the hole in his chest with fast acting cell regeneration medicine. "This should works, the native cells seemed similar in make to our own and in testing it seemed effective."
Ashi'in frowned. 'It'll be too slow.' She thought as her eyes looked quickly about. As her golden gaze laid upon the locker of the RF Suit, eureka struck her. "The suit. It has cell replication properties and an in built life support, it could help." She said as she took William's sword from him and began using it to pry open the busted looking door, struggling to do so.
"The suit?! Are you crazy?! That is the equivalent of giving a nonsentient primate a Rail Rifle after putting its digits on the trigger." Lukin said while keeping on with the first aid.
"Well, that thing saved my life and I don't know about you, but I am not about to let it die. I owe it at least that!" Ashi'in said grunting as she pried open the locker doors just enough for an arm to fit in.
She stretched as best she could and pulled from inside the locker a silvery metal disc about the same size as her palm.
"Ashi'in as the lead researcher I forbid it!" Lukin said standing up with a clear furious expression on his face, which receeded quickly once he saw Ashi'in lift up the sword she wielded in one of her hands.
"You can shove your position up your ass, and if you do, please make sure you can taste it in the back of your throat." She growled as she gave Lukin a shoulder shove.
She kneeled besides William and she looked down upon the pale pink primitive who's brown eyes stared half open at her, his long brown hair spread about the floor, soaked lightly with his own blood. "O-oh... mine beautiful angel... see that mine soul reacheth the gates of Heaven... and please... go release Stevellion of his duties as mine stead... he doesn't deserve to suffer the wait of my never coming... return." He said coughing up a few globs of blood.
Ashi'in listened, but... she couldn't understand a single grunt the damn thing was making. She just nodded her head and took his hand into hers. "Don't worry, it'll be fine... hopefully." She said nervous as she placed the metal disk at the center of his chest and gave it two finger taps.
The silvery metal disk chimed with a gentle sound after a few moments and it began saying. "The suit's pilot is in critical condition, for quicker life support assistance would you like to initiate full suit integration instead of the standard operating system?" The device declared, its monotonous voice echoing in the cockpit.
"Yes! Initatite full integration, focus on life support before booting any other systems." Ashi'in yelped impatient.
The metal disk chimed in an affirmative sound as it then shifted across the knight's chest, right over the wound. It sealed the hole with its own surface and then it started buzzing.
As William felt himself fade a spike of pain shot from his chest, more specifically his heart. It was as if something was shredding his heart apart and then it came in stabbing his inner flesh with many hot needles, it burned and stung like nothing else he ever felt. He yelled as his body convulsed and after about two minutes of this constant torture, the pain dulled and subsided.
"Biological analysis complete. Repaclement of damaged vital organs complete. Suit systems connected neurologically to host. All basic boot up functions complete." The suit stated once more monotonously.
Ashi'in sighed with relief as she sat down onto the floor. "Phew... I am so glad that worked." She said with a shakey voice and a small smile on her lips.
Lukin groaned annoyed as he looked at the suit's core now physically implanted into the native's left side of his chest. The damned thing tore through his bio clothing and just dug itself into him. Looking more closely now, the bit of it that was still exposed... it morphed... into a shape akin to the metal shield that the primitive was carrying.
William feeling himself breath fully and feeling life course through his veins proper, he looked at his chest and noticed the hole in his leather armor and the shirt below it. His eyes sparkled with a hope renewed as she looked at Ash'in. The young man scrambled onto his knees and palms and bowed his head with the forehead against the floor. "Oh! Most gentle and generous angel, thank you for your blessing, thank you for gracing me with the Lord's love and keeping me in your favor. I shall devote myself to assisting you and the Father in purging those demons."
"Oh, what the hell is it doin' now?" Ashi'in asked as she chuckled nervously, doubting her choice at this point. Her eyes wandered towards Lukin for an answer.
The lead xeno scientist stared into empty air after seeing William's display and he seemed to search for an answer in his mind's library. "I... don't... I know this has something to do with religious behaviors and rituals, but... why would it..." Lukin stuttered flustered.
William stood to his feet with a determined look upon his fair features. "God! I carry thine will as you command me, grant me thine protection and strength to end the plague that are those demons!"
"A.I. Assistant designation, God. Activating defensive protocols, enabling full access to in built nano machine weaponry." The suit's voice declared in a lpw tone monotonous voice.
"Did he just... name the suit's A.I. ... as God?! I understood what the suit said, but really, God?" Ashi'in asked confused as she stood up.
Lukin face palmed himself as he finally realized. "The unevolved idiot is mistaking us for divine creatures, oh hell... there's like fuck knows how many religions that I documented here, which one is he even part of?!" The lead scientist said stepping back.
The silver disk on William's chest began spreading over his body like mercury, enveloping him entirely. As it began taking shape, initially in the standard form of the suit, it then began changing. It morphed into a full suit of armor that looked like the full plated armor the xeno biologists have seen the natives of this planet make and wear in one region of the planet.
Despite the look akin to various metal plates strapped together, it was simply just the design choice of the user for the suit's exterior. The living metal even moved to make filigree patterns across various "edges" of the armor and in the middle of William's chest the designs merged to form a cross. His head piece took the shape of a Great Helm style helmet with a cross pattern in the middle, the eye holes being actual visors that shined a blue hue.
"Damn, these people are really into religion h-huh..." Ashi'in said as her eyes widened at how much the suit had changed from the standard look. This feature was usually used for one to lightly personalize their suit's design, but it was now unrecognisable.
"God, hear my plea! Grant me a blade to cut through mine enemies with thunderous force! Let me smite them, lightning quick!" William shouted as he reached a hand forward and from his palm, bits of his suit formed into a hilt, which grew a pummel and hand guard eventually shooting a straight edge blade that pulsed with electricity.
As Lukin observed he began tapping away at a little data pad. "I don't think the suit understands his vocal commands, but... full integration merges the suit with one's nervous system... it might actually be able to reproduce these details and follow his commands based on his brain's electric patterns which form his thoughts. Oh ho ho... this might be quite interesting. Such a basic intelligent life form operating intricate technological machinery. This'll-... agh!"
Lukin groaned as Ashi'in elbowed him in the side. "I understand this is our work, but can you not?" the assistant groaned annoyed shaking her head as she then gazed back at William. "Lets hope it'll put it to good use."
The knight stared at his new blade and down at himself as he tightened his free hand and began making his way out of the cockpit and back towards the laboratory he gor dragged from. "By the grace of God..." He uttered zelously under his breath as he pressed onwards, his voice ringing out with a metalic tone to it and echoing.

My and my bf are working professionals. We've moved (rented) to a nice semi in January and what's extra nice is that his parents live across the road. It's a quiet close which is perfect as I WFH and it's nice and quiet at weekends too. Before we moved in we agreed with the landlord that we will put a fence out of our own pockets as the one between us and the neighbour was a wonky chicken wire fence - we have dogs and I do like my privacy. Landlord had no issues with it.
When we moved, neighbours chatted to us and told us that the woman next door to us had to move out for a while as her boyfriend set fire to her house just before Christmas and there was a lot of damage (quite a story on it's own). I thought: "oh that's a shame, poor woman must've been really scary" and didn't think much more of it.
Mid Feb she moves back in. It's OK as I don't notice her much which is fine and it's all quiet.
We finally scraped some money to put the fence in and we've booked a date - both myself and bf tried knocking on her door to let her know two and one week in advance and to make sure it's OK with her - no joy. Finally, day before I was going out for work purpose and she was dragging her bin back so I decided to speak to her, introduce myself, get to know her and let her know about the fence. She seemed pleasant and friendly (although I did sense, she has some 'issues' - which is fine btw - so do I). We laughed at the prospect of my dog chasing a cat through the wired fence into her garden and she said that the fence is a good idea, etc. I'm introverted and don't like talking to people much so this was me going out of my comfort zone and above and beyond to make a good friendly first impression as we're planning to stay here for a long time so might as well get to know the woman next door.
Anyway, I digress...the next day the fence people come and start working, I'm upstairs working. They are half way done and I hear chatter from the garden then I see her trotting to my door and shouting for me. I asked if there was a problem- she says "give me the number to your landlord, the fence is ugly and they are rude to me, we always have problems with renters here and they don't stay longer than a year because they can't afford it" - I literally stood there frozen as it was so unexpected. I gave her letting agents number as I didn't feel why I shouldn't as they knew about the fence anyway. She trotted back to her hole.
I went to my garden and asked the contractors what happened and they said that suddenly she came out and started shouting at them that the fence is ugly and they didn't know what they were doing - it's a normal fence - 4 panels with decorative trellis and 5th plain one that's joined to the plain panel that divides our paved areas. Like literally wtf.
I told them that she said they were rude to her and they've said that because theyve seen she's a 'bit off' they were trying to ignore her and not egg her on and then she started calling them 'dickheads'. They then said that they understand why I needed the fence done so quickly. Me being autistic started explaining that that wasn't the case and then the penny dropped 🙄.
I called my letting agents, explained what happened and sent them pictures. They confirmed that we haven't done anything wrong, we didn't trespass on her side (left the chicken wire fence where it was so our fence is in front of it, on our side of the garden), and we have informed her in advance and she didn't raise any objections. They confirmed with the landlord and he is also satisfied with the fence - we will still clean and paint it when the weather improves and so our pockets.
The agents apologised for the neighbour's behaviour (despite this having nothing to do with them) and agreed her comments were uncalled for. - for the record - an elderly lady rented here for 4 years before us, so the (I'm getting angry so will start calling the neighbour 'twat' from now on because otherwise I'll explode) that's comments did not make sense. I'm also starting to think that perhaps this was a threat or a type of hate harassment/passive aggressive attempt at her saying "I'm better then you because I own my house and you rent so I've got the right to tell you what to do even though it's not my house".
I would like to add the fact here that this woman does not work and she's probably in her 40s - not judging as such as sometimes it's justified but something tells me in this case it's probably not that. I could be nasty about it if I wanted to, but no time for that now.
I know for some readers this will seem trivial but it took me over a week to get over all this as I don't cope well in these types of situations. I also can't cope being told information I know it's not true or being accused of something I have hard proof that it's not the case - my sense of justice is very strong so at the same time, when I'm in the wrong or someone explains to me and then I see that it was my bad, I'm the first to admit and take accountability.
Fast forward 2-3 weeks. I'm starting to get back to baseline but still avoid her which is easy anything. Yesterday, I had letting agent contractors come to fix my window handles, so I'm sitting in the lounge and I get the doorbell. It's an agent from my letting place. He apologised for intruding but he wanted to let me know that he had a meeting with the twat next door - I asked if it was about the fence again and he confirmed but he said that we have nothing to worry about. Then he said that there are couple of 'other things' but if I don't have time now we can speak later. Of fucking course I told him to tell me now. He said that the twat complained that we've installed 'cameras' and then he looked at my Ring doorbell and before I said anything he went 'but I can see it's just this so it's ok' ...ladies and gentlemen - at this point I went livid. I told him that I think something is seriously wrong with her and I think she's got some issues - I think I said 'fucking' at some point and looking back I'm not proud of it but I went into defense and fight or flight explaining that what she says it's totally unjustified.
He told me that she complained that we have people parking on her driveway - we had no visitors since we moved here. I park on my driveway and bf at the back in front our garage. I told him that's total bull shit and if she means contractors from the agency going slightly over on her empty driveway for a bit then she can raise that with them as I really don't have time to stand in the window and watch for every contractor, delivery guy, post man to make sure they god forbid don't have 2cm of their wheels on her driveway whilst they are doing their job.
The one that took the biscuit tho - she complained that we've...wait for it...'changed or taken the numbers on the bins'. Don't ask me what bins she's referring to because I honestly have no idea. The guy could see that the number on our bin corresponds to our house number and I added that going round the close taking people's bins/numbers or changing them is not something we've taken up as a hobby.
At this point I thought I'm gonna go over to her and raise hell but I thought better of it. The guy said he agrees and sees my point and he then told me 'just lay low for a bit, it will die down' ...I'm sorry, I fucking lost the plot - lay low??? As in wtf, we can't lay any lower than than because we don't party, we don't have people round, we avoid the fucker as it is - what exactly we are supposed to do???
Anyway, I wrote a long email to the agents addressing all of it and saying that basically this is starting to look like borderline bullying and harassment. And asked them to next time let me know when she 'reports' something else so i can address it there and then with them. I'm sure that's not the end of it and she will continue to try get us in trouble because she is not getting the reaction or response she wants from anyone and she now has the agents number.
Later on that same day, I noticed she has wheeled her bin out and left it on OUR driveway, right next to my car! Like wtf! Normally I wouldn't give a shit as I'm not petty and have a life but because of the newest revelations, I took the picture of this and sent to the agency saying that this just happened and I'll be moving her bin over to her driveway but wanted to give them evidence before in case she tells them we are 'doing something' again.
I don't know what the point of this post is tbh, I just needed to vent and perhaps someone can give me some advice as I'm in bits, I'm starting to hate living here and I don't feel comfortable in a home I'm working so hard for.
I can be really spiteful, hold my own and I don't take shit like that from the likes of her but I'm honestly a bit at a loss here as on one hand I want to go there and explain to her what a cowardly twat she is and how dare she make up lies and just make her realise how stupid she makes herself look. But at the same time I know that there's no point conversing with crazy.
This whole situation is so senslessly toxic and I think that just bothers me the most, plus I really don't want to have to move, because I do like the place and because I know this will make her win and feel she can do shit like that to anybody else.
If you're still here, reading this - much appreciated.