I am ready to buy headrush prime, but there is something i am not quite sure if i would be capable of achieve with the routing options:
What i need is an output to Front-of-house/in-ear-monitoring with cab simulation (That´s easy, no problem using primary XLR output) and simultaneously a separate output to poweramp=>real Cabinet (Not a regular amp with fx send and returns, just poweramp) with all the fx set in the headrush prime. I mean, the same setup as primary output, but with no cab simulation.
Is this possible? I know i can route TRS output after amp simulation, but i am not sure if i can do this including all my fx chain set in my preset/rig/whatever.
I readed the manual but is not clear to me, and i need to be sure to buy it.
Also, i readed some comments on having a little latency using amps cloned. Any user here who can comment on this?
A million thanks in advance.
We moved to a shiny new med surg unit last week. They really didn't do much of a dry run without patients, so we have sick folks on the floor and we are trying to learn how to work in a new environment. We didn't even know how to use the new phones when they moved us so it was 12 hours of trial and error.
I'm used to having a computer on wheels with drawers, but those are gone, RIP. Instead, we have 2 med rooms and 4 very spread out nurses stations. Each room has its own computer and scanner and vitals machine. Also the halls are so freaking long now.
I'm used to pulling my morning med pass at the same time. I'm used to basically wheeling a computer cart with me, having all my supplies with me on hand, etc. Well that's long gone and our manager is so anti-clutter right now and really does not want to put extra supplies anywhere except the one supply room and the 2 med rooms because "what if jcaho comes.'
So right now I guess I'm in the market for a fanny pack, maybe a sling pack. I'm also 7 months pregnant so I don't really have a waist right now. Any suggestions on stashing supplies where I need them? Dealing with long halls and big med hauls? Just general advice? I guess one good thing for us is that we mainly assign patients by room number and not necessarily just based on acuity, so patients are usually close together on the hall.
I moved into the house i currently live in with my dad and my sister. I was 7 month pregnant. We worked on this “home” for years together. Painting it. Hanging new cabinets. Tearing out the shower stall and installing a tub for my child. Ripping off unsafe stairs and blocking off and fixing the holes it left. And then repainting the rooms more times then I could count. Laying base boards and crown molding. We worked our asses off to make a house that was worth barely 50,000 into a home worth 150,000. It was his dream to leave me and my son a home after he passed away. That’s all he ever talked about was leaving my son a home. A house to call his own after he was gone. Well. My best friend died. My dad isn’t here anymore. He died in my arms in his bedroom in the home we shared. I got so used to him being home. Like how I would hear his footsteps upstairs. And I would hear him coughing or laughing. I could smell the coffee he would make for himself every morning. And after that day. Nothing. No foot steps. No coffee smell at 8am. I don’t hear the laughing. Or coughing. Silence is all I hear. This beautiful home I once shared with my best friend is no longer a home. I don’t feel safe anymore. He was my safety. Knowing I could walk upstairs and hug him. Or call him and talk to him. I can’t do that anymore. I feel completely lost in this world without him. He was always there. Even at marching band competitions. I would just listen for his cough and I knew he was there. But he isn’t anymore. In these months leading to my wanting to move have been torture. I wanna fight for this home. But at the same time it’ll never be home again. It’ll never be a safe place. And at this point I could care less if his wife completely shuts me out and doesn’t ever speak to me again. I need out of this house for my own mental health. Or I may join him soon. And I can’t do that. I won’t do that. So I’m going to leave. This house has a lot of good memories. But they were all over shadowed by him dying here. I need to find my happy again. Because I have been miserable since he gained his wings. I think I too deserve a little happy after the lose of my dad and best friend.
Captain Vohr’Doe walked along the hall of the crew quarters, hoping that Kyle wasn’t in his ‘living’ room; there was something he'd had delivered to his equipment room that she really
wanted to see, but didn’t think it would be prudent to simply ask
to see it. As Captain, she had - of course - been given an inventory of the items he had delivered, and while a lot of it seemed to be a bit much
- like the meat smoking pit, along with the filters to keep his room safe - there was one thing that she couldn’t quite put in that same category, regardless of how much upkeep it would need.
She very well could have put in a call to security to find his location, but she knew he would be either in his ‘room’, or in his ‘equipment room’, and it was good to take a walk among your crew from time to time; let them know that you don’t think of yourself as better
than them. So it was that she greeted the members of her crew that she passed, taking the time to speak to them, and make sure they were doing well. And so it was that she finally made it to his room, and pushed the call button. After waiting a few moments, she pressed it again. Finally, she decided he wasn’t in his room, and turned to head towards the elevator to take her down. However, she had barely taken three steps when he turned the corner, prompting the slightest twinge of disappointment.
He was dressed in a black silk shirt, with a pair of pants that were made to have lots of room in the legs. The waist obviously fit him, and yet, the legs themselves seemed to be made for someone much
larger than himself, as his legs had plenty of space to move around inside the pants. They also had a peculiar color scheme, as the left half was all black, and the right half was a deep, vibrant red. There were pockets about halfway down the legs, with metal chains hanging on them. She could also see that he was barefoot, and while there was no rule saying he had to, she was
aware that his people usually wore shoes when out in public. But, he wasn’t hurting anyone - namely himself, in this instance - so she didn’t bother about it. He was also still wearing the sun-shades that he had on before, and she had to wonder as to why
seeing as she had read that Sol was just as bright on Earth as the lights on the ship. Perhaps the mahn’ewe operate under dimmer lighting? Two years would be time enough to shift someone’s vision.
He had in his left hand his tablet, his face pointed entirely at the screen, and in his right was a plastic container, that was square-shaped, with rounded corners, the base of which was the size of his whole palm, and which flared out about an inch along its length upwards. It was mostly full with what appeared to be tiny, tan-gray seeds, and even as she watched, Kyle lifted it to his mouth and simply stuck his tongue out, using his saliva to adhere the seeds to his tongue. He was just lowering his hand - having retracted his tseed-covered tongue back into his mouth - when he stopped, and she got the feeling that he’d finally looked up, and saw her; which was solidified when he said,
“Hey, Cap’n; fancy seeing you
down here.” She didn’t miss the note of trepidation in his voice.
“Well,” she began, “I actually came down to see you. Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Of course,” he replied, “Here, or…?”
She smiled, and said,
“Your room should do fine, unless you wish to go somewhere else?”
“Oh,” he replied, somewhat flustered, “No, my room’s fine; just a second…” and he made his way over to his door, opening it for her.
And upon the door opening, she was at first confused, as she was confronted by a wood-paneled wall about six feet from the door. Then she realized that these were the crates his things had been shipped in. He must have had more things in them than she’d originally thought, as he had yet to unpack it all even after three Standard days aboard this ship. However, when she stepped in, and walked around the corner around ten feet to her left, she saw an entirely different sight.
To her right was a 7’-tall entertainment center, about 5’-wide, and a monitor inside that took up the entire space from left to right, though it was only about 4’-tall. The top of the monitor was about level with the top of her chest, with a shelf above it that was filled with various personal effects. Most all of these were variations of a winged lizard that looked remarkably like the reptile aspects of the drahk’mihn, not least of all because they were all different colors.
There were what looked like egg-shaped geodes, the upper ‘faces’ missing about a quarter of the ‘shell’ the insides each dyed one of the six primary and secondary colors, with a miniature lizard curled protectively around its corresponding color. There was a timer-glass - the bottom bulb containing red sand - with the side ‘pillars’ that connected the ‘cage’ holding the glass center steady being one of these creatures on each side, mirrored by identical creatures on the ‘bottom’, relative to whichever was on the top at any given turning. There was a large figurine that was of a multi headed example of these creatures, one red body, with multiple other colored heads, one being red, but the others being blue, green, black, and white. Everywhere she looked, there were figurines, pictures, and posters - held to the wall with magnets, it looked like - all of them containing these creatures in some setting or another. Just as she was about to comment on them, a light turned on on a nearby table, and she looked in over to see a white orb made of plastic. In certain parts, there was obviously more plastic layered than in others, creating ‘shadows’ across its surface. As she studied it, the ‘shadows’ seemed to look almost like craters.
“Earth’s moon?” she asked, turning to look at Kyle, who - she just noticed - wasn’t looking at her. In fact, he seemed to be
looking for something. As she watched, he scanned his room, looking over every surface, and even under chairs, and in the space under his desk in the corner where his legs would go. He didn’t seem to notice she said anything, taking several seconds before he turned, looking at her with a slightly surprised look on his face, saying,
“Hmm?” distractedly, until his mind seemed to catch up to what she’d said, as he followed that up with, “Oh
, right; yeah, that’s Luna. It was only ‘illustrated’ to show the light side, so the other side isn’t ‘stenciled’ to show the cities on the dark side.”
“Oh,” she replied, “I didn’t realize that Earth’s moon was tidally locked... Well, I can certainly understand the sentiment: no matter how much I enjoy being out among the stars, surveying new plants, my home planet will always hold a special place in my heart.”
“Pur’Rosse?” he asked politely.
She gave a small laugh, and replied,
“No, I was born on one of our colony planets: Clash’Rept. It’s not very large, or particularly important, but it’s home… If I’m interrupting your search for something…?” she finished, gesturing for him to continue. She saw him go a little red, as he sheepishly chuckled, and it was at that moment that she noticed something else: while he was still wearing his glasses, the lenses were now completely clear, with no tint at all. It seemed that he noticed what she was looking at, as he went slightly cross-eyed, then gave another small laugh.
“Just a second.” he replied with a slight smile, as he finished giving his room a quick sweep, then entered his connected bathroom. After about a minute in there, he stepped out, took off the glasses, and set them down on his bedside table. “A week was more than enough time for the A.I. studying the things I sent back to be able to reverse-engineer their cloaking devices, and then upgrade it. With
that, comes the tech to detect them, if they happen to try sneaking up on me again.”
The fact that the mahn’ewe had access to invisibility technology wasn’t lost on her, however, she chose a more… intelligent
question to ask.
“And you expect them to come here
?” she asked with a slight smile.
He looked a bit ‘on-the-spot’, and gave a smile of his own.
“Well,” he replied, “Not exactly ‘expect
’, but let’s just say I’m acutely
aware of the possibility.”
She nodded, conceding the point, and decided that was a good enough explanation, so she changed the topic.
“And what are these
?” she asked with a slight smile, “They look vaguely familiar.”
Kyle smiled at this, and he replied in a genuinely happy tone,
“Dragons; they can be found in the mythos of just about every
human culture in history. They can range from benevolence, to malicious, and everything in between. They usually have control over some element, from fire, to ice, to lightning. Some legends have them controlling every
element, or just being all-powerful… Plus, they just look
cool.” he finished excitedly.
“Well,” she replied in a slightly amused voice, “I have to agree with you, there.” finishing with a light chuckle.
The conversation seemed to stall there, and Kyle was the one to broach the subject.
“So, you wanted to talk to me?” he inquired, with a note of trepidation creeping back into his voice.
“I did.” she replied, with a gentle firmness; she didn’t want him to feel more threatened than he already - obviously - was, “It’s come to my attention that you haven’t been interacting with the ship beyond your two rooms, and that you give the most minimalist of replies when addressed by your fellow crew members. And while there’s no rule
that you have to interact with the crew, I’ve been informed that you haven’t even been to the cafeteria to eat. Obviously, I have no problem with you having your own food and cookware,” here she gestured to the air filter hanging over a stovetop/oven in the corner, “But it’s starting to unnerve the crew a bit. You must understand how it looks to someone on the outside: all anyone is aware of is that you’re a Class 12 aggressor. No one knows why
you’re classified as such, and I know
you don’t want to tell the story to anyone else; hells, I doubt you would want me
telling the story on your behalf.
“So the only thing they have to judge you off of is the official
Federal rating on you, and your behavior you exhibit in front of them. Now, I’m not asking you to spend all of your free time fraternizing with everyone you see. However, if you could just start by going to eat with everyone else - perhaps go down to the gun range? - I’m sure that you can meet new people, who simply want to know you… I read your psych report: I know what you went through as a child. And while I can’t guarantee that no one
on this ship will bring back memories of the tormentors of your childhood, I can
guarantee that the majority will leave you pleasantly surprised,”
If what she’d learned from her interactions with the suun’mahs, and the kanfi’doe - not to mention Kah’Ri - was anything to judge by, then he was very clearly expressing guilt, with his head dropped, and him seeming to be unable to make eye contact. Finally he broke the silence, looking at her sheepishly, saying,
“How far d'you think I can push the ‘unpacking my massive amount of personal items’?” with a shy smile on his face.
That drew out a genuine laugh from her, and she smilingly replied with,
“I think you’ve pretty much used up that time. I’m sure we could pass it off as the only
reason you’ve been so reclusive, but it won’t work for very much longer.”
Kyle gave a resigned sigh, and in a matching voice said,
, I’ll go out more besides, you’re right about the gun range: I’ve only ever shot any guns once, when a… an acquaintance
brought his pistol and rifle on a camping trip. I was invited to go to this National Park by some people at work, and I didn’t have a really good reason to refuse… Anyway, I really do
have a few more things to do in my equipment room, though; so, would tomorrow be okay?”
She smiled at this, and said,
“That would be acceptable, thank you.” she didn’t want to end on this note, however, so she cast her mind around for anything to talk about, and her mind latched onto something,
“What was that that you were eating when you were in the hallway?” she asked, gesturing to the plastic container he’d set down on his desk.
He smiled at this, and brightly replied,
“Oh, those’re sunflower seeds; well, sunflower kernels
seeing as they’ve already been shelled.” and here, he walked over to a cabinet that was used for storing utility items, which did
have a few cleaning supplies in the bottom, but the shelves were filled with snack foods. From one shelf at about his shoulder, he pulled an unopened, identical container, and tossed it to her. Having removed the plastic film around the edge of the lid, she opened it, and - mimicking Kyle - she stuck her tongue into the mass of kernels.
The kernels - themselves - had a light, almost bland taste to them, but in a good way. There was a definite taste
to them, and not so little that she actually needed
so many at a time, but also not so strong as to be overpowering. It was very much something that she could eat if she was feeling ill, and having trouble keeping down more rich flavored food. Plus, the salt was applied in such amount as to enhance the flavor, and not to overpower it. She couldn’t find anything wrong with it. However, one thing occurred to her, somewhat belatedly.
“Are you sure this is safe for me?” she asked with a small smile.
“Yeah,” he answered, smiling, “Kay’Eighty’s already gone through the medical records of the different species, at least, what’s available to the wider public. There’s not really much that we can eat that other species can’t, and there’s not really much that you
couldn’t eat, anyways.”
“Well,” she began with a slight laugh, “That’s
good to know… Speaking of Kay’Eighty, may I meet her?”
“Of course.” he replied, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small blue box, that soon morphed into a foot-tall, human-shaped ‘robot’; though, ‘android’ would probably be a more fitting descriptor, at this point.
“Hello Captain Vohr’Doe,” she said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Captain Vohr’Doe smiled down at the tiny person, and replied,
“And you, as well. How are you enjoying your stay here; is there anything I can do to make your time here more…” She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to say here: ‘inclusive’? ‘Enjoyable’? Whatever she wanted to say, it seemed that Kay’Eighty understood, as she responded with a polite smile, and to say,
“Thank you, Captain, but I have everything I need, supplied to me by the humans. All I need - really - is material to feed my nano-forge in the off chance that I were to lose any bots, for whatever reason, and - again - I have more than enough in storage.”
Not wanting to overstay her welcome, she decided to leave them to whatever they needed to do. So with farewells all around, she took her leave, carrying the container of sunflower kernels that Kyle gave her.
Ah’Sheen hated being so small, at times. At only a foot tall - or two
feet long on all fours, and counting their tails - the miu’alfar were the smallest sapient species in the known galaxy. Though, it wasn’t the Federation - in and of itself - that made it a problem, as there were all sorts of workarounds that the Federation went out of its way to implement that were to the benefit of the smaller species. But in every civilization, there were always the extremists. People who thought themselves superior to others for whatever reason, and thought that gave them the right to bully others. And that led to ‘trickle-down’ bullying, which led to her current situation.
The three rahv’oyeck that had been harassing her had been content to hurl insults at her, mocking her for being so small, even though the rahv’oyeck didn’t grow taller than two feet, themselves. But when she’d turned the corner into the connecting path - on a street it would be referred to as an ‘alley’, and in this case, wasn’t covered by the security cameras - her vision went completely dark, as one - or all - of them manipulated the light from her eyes. Unfortunately for her, she had been close to the edge when this happened, and her momentum couldn’t be stopped so suddenly, as she’d sped up to try to get away from them. This led to her falling the ten feet to the floor below. Luckily, her people could survive
greater falls with minimal injury; it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though, as she rolled into a sitting position, a bit winded from the impact.
Of course, this led to a cacophony of laughter above her, which quickly came down to her level, accompanied by the flapping of their wings. She heard the female of the group talking, first.
” she said in amused awe, “You made her eyes into mirrors
! How’d you do that?”
The one to her left - a male - replied in a smug voice,
“Yeah, my dad taught me about that: basically, you just have to reflect all
the light from a surface, and it makes a mirror; takes a lot of focus, though.”
“So,” said the one in front of her, a male, “Where were you heading, rodent
“Please,” she replied, “Leave me alone; I won’t tell anyone, just let me go.”
“I don’t know,” the one who was apparently blocking her vision said with vindictive pleasure, “We were on our way to lunch, and I’m thinking you might just make a tasty meal
There was laughter, then the female said,
“She may be small, but I don’t think you could finish her by yourself.”
“Oh, didn’t you know?” he asked, “Rodents have collapsible spines; I bet I could swallow her whol-rgck
His voice cut off into a choking sound, as at the same time, her vision came back. The first thing she saw was the two rahv’oyeck who were directly in front of her, and to her right; both of whom were staring - with their beaks wide open - at something above them all, and to her left. Looking in that direction, she saw Kyle, and an instinct to run and hide flashed up inside of her at the sight of him.
The first thing she noticed was his face, which was twisted into a pained-looking rictus, a bastardization of the smile he gave to Kah’Ri at lunch the other day. Firstly, there were too many teeth visible; as well as his gums. And though she couldn’t see his eyes, she was instinctively sure that there was zero
amusement behind that ‘smile’. Backing this up was his right arm extended all the way out to his side, who’s hand was currently wrapped around the throat of the rahv’oyeck who had used his Gift on her. The fingers on the end of his wings were scrabbling at Kyle’s hand, trying to free himself, but Kyle’s fingers might as well have been made of steel, for all the good it was doing him; he finally settled on hanging on to Kyle’s hand to relieve the pressure on his throat, which Kyle didn’t seem to be squeezing enough to entirely
cut off his air, though his hand was visibly shaking from the obvious restraint. His voice reflected that almost-painful restraint of rage as he - in the icy voice of a psychotic murderer trying to sound innocent - said,
“You know, I thought I heard the squawking of a bunch of seagulls, but turns out it was actually laughter
. And so I thought to myself, ‘Hey, I
like to laugh; maybe these seagulls’ve got some jokes.' So I decided to come and find out: What’s so funny?
The other two just stood there, beaks still open, and a tremble now running through their bodies as they stared on in obvious terror; here was the Class 12 ‘beast’ Kor’Rah was referencing the other day. After a few seconds of silence, Kyle gave a casual flick of his wrist, sending the bird in his hand fluttering behind him, and showing a supreme lack of concern for the life he was literally holding in his hand just moments before. At the same time, he bent forward, reaching out towards them. The other two obviously - along with her, she had to admit - thought that he was reaching for one of them, as they both fell over themselves trying to scramble away from his outstretched hand. However, he surprised them all by grabbing Ah’Sheen around her waist in an unexpectedly gentle - while expectedly firm - grip, and lifting her up, placing her on his left shoulder as he straightened up. Looking down at the two in front of them, he said in soft growl,
“You know, humans have two rules -” here, he looked to the side, and his voice momentarily took on a bit of a distracted tone, “Actually, humans have a lot
of rules - but two main ones that you’re dangerously close to breaking unforgivably. First and foremost being: don’t mess with my friends.
” and here, he walked past them, leaving them staring up at him. She didn’t want to seem like she was making fun of him, but she felt he was leaving himself open to it from the other three there, so she sent a tendril of thought to his mind, which he accepted, and through it she said,
‘You said there were two, but you only told them one.’
She felt the smirk he was suppressing, and he said back,
‘I know, but there’s always one who has to be Billy Badass.’
Almost as if on cue, they heard a rather hoarse voice behind them say,
“Yeah, and what’s number two
Kyle stopped dead, and slowly turned, as she felt him let the rage bubble back up to the surface. She felt vindictive smile crack his face, and he practically growled through clenched teeth,
“Fuck around, and find out.
” and with that, he took a quick, hard
step forward, causing all three of them to scramble around, and take to the air, flying in the complete opposite direction. Kyle gave a snort of laughter, and continued on the way he was going, which turned out to be to the elevator. He was about to push one of the buttons, when he froze, seeming to think of something.
“Um,” he began, “Where were you going, by the way?”
She gave a slight laugh, and said,
“Well, I was
going to lunch; why, where are you
“Oh,” he replied, “I was heading to my equipment room, but I can drop you off on my way.”
“Oh,” she said, “Well, if you’re not going, then I can wait for a while: they mentioned that they were heading to lunch, as well, and I don’t want to deal with that. You can set me down here: I’m sure they won’t try anything, again.”
But Kyle was still for a few seconds, before he pushed the button to take them to the equipment rooms.
“I got something that can hold you over till dinner.” he said as the doors began to close.
She wanted to decline - not because she was afraid of him, but because she didn’t want him to go through any undue effort on her part - but she thought better of it; if for no other reason, than to ‘force’ him to put her down would be to take another fall similar to the one she just took earlier, and she didn’t want to go through that again. Soon enough, they were in front of his equipment room, and he motioned for it to open, and she was confronted with a wall of wooden crates. Kyle didn’t seem to be bothered by it, as he turned to his left, and walked around the corner, revealing a mostly clear room. He had obviously put his stuff away, seeing as the room was mostly clear, with the only thing out of the ordinary was a big rectangular metal box in the far corner, and a bunch of large canvases on the walls. The canvases were all of various things, from a dark forest, to nebulae, to a ‘cartoon’ tree, with a large gray trunk, and purple leaves, with golden light shining through the cracks.
Kyle walked over to the box, setting her - along with his sunglasses - down on the desk that came with the room beside the box, he opened said box, pulling out two cylindrical plants with long, green leaves. Each was individually wrapped in plastic, and were quite obviously frozen. As he walked over to one of the closets that lined the walls, he opened it to reveal a large cooking pit. He walked a bit further in, and picked up a smaller pit, one that was just barely taller than herself. He set this one beside the larger one, filled it with lumps of what appeared to be coal, and set it alight. He reached up, and turned on what she took to be an air filter, judging by the sound of an air-intake. As he stepped back, her eyes moved past him, to the spot that was hidden from her view before, as this was on the other side of the box ‘wall’ he seemed to have purposely constructed, and she couldn’t help but gasp when she saw it.
There, to the right of his door - though you wouldn’t know that walking in, obviously - was a 10’-tall tree, and as unexpected as a tree on a ship would be, it was what the tree bore that was the real shocker. For all over it, from the highest branches, growing from vines that wrapped their ways around the trunk, to other, thicker vines that grew around the base, sprouting large green fruits, some of them even bigger than she was, as well as a yellow-tan plant that had almost sharp-looking leaves sprouting out of the top. Kyle followed her gaze, and in a smiling voice, said,
“Oh, yeah; that’s my fruit tree.” he said, as he walked over and picked her up, taking her over to the tree, “Those are apples: ‘red crisp’, there, and those are called ‘granny smith’. The red ones are sweeter, while the green ones have a more tangy bite to ‘em. Those’re ‘oranges’, and the larger ones are called ‘grapefruits’; ‘mangoes’, ‘pomegranates’, ‘peaches’, and ‘bananas’. On the trunk are red and green ‘grapes’, ‘strawberries’, ‘blackberries’, ‘raspberries’, ‘blueberries’, ‘passionfruit’, and ‘dragonfruit’. Down there are ‘watermelons’, and ‘pineapples’. Just a small sample of the fruits from Earth, but the ones I’m most familiar with.”
She was stuck staring in awe, and finally found her voice enough to ask,
“How are there so many different fruits on one tree?”
“Well, before the scientists moved on to manipulating the human
genome, they started with plants. Besides making actual hybrids
- like, mixing
the qualities of multiple fruits together - they made hybrid plants
wherein they grow multiple different instances
of fruits, or vegetables, like this one.” and with this, he reached out, and pulled a large bunch of the ‘strawberries’ from the vines, using his shirt as a makeshift ‘basket’.
He then took her back to the desk, and set her down, then returned to the opened closet and retrieved a machine that looked like some kind of food processor: it was a large pitcher that sat in a smaller machine-base, with four small blades at the bottom of the pitcher. After he set that down on the desk, and plugged it in, he took the remaining leaves off of the strawberries, and dumped them - one by one as he finished with them - into the processor. Reopening the freezer, he scooped out some ice with a metal scoop, and filled the pitcher almost to the top. He then went over to another closet, and this one was more shallow - mostly a closet to hold coats - that had been converted into a liquor cabinet, stocked floor to ceiling with many different spirits of many different colors. He selected a clear bottle, and closed the closet, returning to the desk.
After he poured a measured amount into the pitcher, he put the lid on the top and - while holding it down, one finger hovering over one of the buttons, he looked over at her and said,
“This’s gonna be kinda loud.”
She covered her ears, and he pushed the button, activating the blades to begin pulverizing the contents of the pitcher. After almost a minute, the harsh crushing, grinding sound fell away, replaced by the loud wiring of mechanical parts. Kyle shut the machine off, and reached into a cabinet over the desk, pulling out two glasses, one several inches taller than the other. After he poured the delicious
-smelling drink into the glasses, he handed her the smaller one, and she took an experimental sip: it was
delicious., and she told him so.
After he had taken his own drink of the mix - and nodded his thanks to her - he reopened the box, this time reaching into the furthest-most left side, on the other side of the partition, where items that needed to be kept cold - but obviously not frozen
- were kept, and pulled out a bowl with a lid on it. Looking over at her, he asked,
“How are you with… ‘jhode’yuus’, the drahk’mihn would call it; we call it ‘butter’ - at least, in English, we do.”
“That’s not a problem,” she replied, “Being a mammal, milk - and milk by-products - are easily digestible by herbivores; it’s the actual meat
that we can’t process.”
“Cool.” was all he said, and proceeded to open the bowl, taking a plastic seal off the top. Out of the cabinet to the right of the one containing his glasses, he pulled a small rectangular box, from which he extracted two long sheets of some thin metallic material. He folded them in half long-ways, and cinched the ends together, the metal being extremely pliable. Taking a spoon out of one of the desk drawers, he then scooped a large dollop of the ‘butter’ into each ‘trough’ that he’d made, and opened the two containers, pulling out the vegetables inside, stripping the outer leaves from the seemingly now-thawed vegetables, revealing the yellow-white kernels that were hidden beneath.
“This’s called ‘corn’,” he stated, “More specifically, ‘corn-on-the-cob
’. There are several ways to prepare corn, but by far
the best way to do it is like this. You can boil it in a pot - sure - but I prefer to boil it in butter, on the grill.” and with that, he set each ‘cob’ of ‘corn’ on the bed of butter, closing the metal over the tops of each. He then took the metal-wrapped vegetables over to the pit, and set them on it, placing the lid back on the pit.
He came back, and sat down at the desk, taking a large - for her
, anyway - drink from his glass, and she was suddenly struck by the silence. It occurred to her that asking ‘how have you been’ would be both hollow, and a bit invasive, seeing as they’d only met once. She looked up at him, wanting to say something
, but still not knowing what to say, her mouth left slightly open. However, when she looked at him, she saw a strange smirk on his face, and before she could think of anything to say, he took the initiative, answering as if she’d asked a question.
“I’ve been good - well,” he said in a slightly distracted voice, “As good as can be expected, anyways. I’ve been mostly just unpacking; been doing that for the past three days. I
haven’t encountered anyone tryin’ to mess with me, but I’m guessing that’s ‘cause they don’t wanna be killed - or eaten - by the ‘Class 12 monster
’.” he finished with a smirk.
“Well,” she began in an almost flustered voice, “I’m sure that’s not…” she then thought better of her response, “Yeah, that’s probably it. There’s never been a Class 12 sapient species make it very long before driving themselves to extinction. People fear what they don’t know.”
“Yeah,” he replied easily, “I’m used to that. But we’re not really
a ‘Class 12’ under most circumstances. I mean I’m sure you - as an expeditionist - know that a species isn’t rated on their everyday behavior, so much as their most extremes. And actually - for the most
part - you’ll have to worry about humans trying to pet the various sapient races, as they’ll see them as just ‘too cute’.” he finished in an amused voice.
She hesitated for a moment, and found the courage to ask - albeit, in a timid voice -
“What… What made them classify you as a ‘12’, then?”
The look he gave her, it wasn’t anger; actually, it wasn’t anything
. If she had to name the expression on his face, it would be ‘neutral’. However, there was a deepness to his eyes when he looked into hers, a dark pit of emotions that she felt could swallow her whole if she gazed too long into the abyss of his pupils. Then he blinked slowly, and that was replaced by a gentle sadness as he replied,
“Trust me, you don’t
wanna know.” and though his voice had a note of that gentle sadness his eyes held, there was no anger, or offense; something happened on that ship that he knew would damage her. A notion crossed her mind then, of a temporarily insane example of the creature who wanted so badly to crush the life from the rahv’oyeck he held in his hand, with no filter, no control. A slight shiver went down her spine, and she gave a small nod of agreement. He gave her a gentle smile, and changed the subject.
For the next six Standard minutes, or so, they talked about their homes. He had given her his native language, stating it would be easier for them to speak in their own languages; he already had her’s
, of course.
He told her about going camping back on Earth, the animals he saw, the wild apple tree he found, and even showed her photos on his personal communication device from Earth. And she was in awe at the beautiful landscapes he showed her, from green clearings in the middle of a vibrant forest, to a lake with a horizon of hills behind it, and even some animals, a lot of which looked unfamiliar, though she did
see a black animal version of a galan’zhee. It was about as tall as the grass around it, and she was amazed when he told her that the grass was level with his own head. She wondered how he could take that picture with such a large apex predator looking at him - as it was in the picture - and she was shocked when he told her that all you have to do with 'black bears' is to make a lot of noise, and make yourself look big; that for all the damage they could do, they’re really just big balls of fear.
From there, he inquired about her
home life, and so she told him about the colony planet she was born on. It was not really much different than the pictures on his device, with the notable exception that there were no
predators larger than an adolescent miu’alfar, and those are very skittish as it is, avoiding any life forms bigger than themselves. There was also the notable difference - from Moor’Ess - of there being a definite day/night cycle, and how they didn’t need sunglasses to operate in brighter lights. He informed her that he wore them to protect his eyes, and that at home, he would block all windows from allowing natural light in.
It was during this that something from before occurred to her.
“Say, Kyle: did you really mean what you said to them, back there?” she asked a bit timidly.
Kyle scowled at the walled-off door, as if they were waiting outside.
” he practically growled, then his expression cleared into one of slight confusion, and he looked over at her, saying, “Wh- um… Just so we’re like, on the same page here: what-uhh, what part did you mean?”
She laughed a little at this, and with a bit more confidence said,
“The part where you called me your friend.”
Kyle’s eyes opened a bit wider at that, and she got the distinct impression that he’d been caught off guard with that, but instead of trying to backtrack on it, he simply asked,
I?” with a funny little smile on his face.
“Well, no-” she replied, slightly flustered, “I mean, yes
, I just… I mean, we just met; I didn’t want to assume… I mean…” she trailed off, not really knowing what to say. But to her relief, Kyle’s laugh that followed was one of polite amusement.
“It’s okay, I understand… Nah, humans are a social species, even introverts like myself. If there’s no reason *not* to be friends with someone, we can usually ‘buddy up’ fairly quickly. Add in the fact that we’ve been dreaming of ‘aliens’ since before we had radio waves, and most people out here’ll be hard pressed to find an enemy in humans. Not to mention that you all look like some
kind of animal from back home, and yall’ll be havin’ to beat humans off with a stick; metaphorically speaking, of course…. Mostly
, anyways…” to which they both had a good laugh.
Finally - though she barely noticed the time go by - he went to the pit and took the corn from the heat, and put the lid back on, closing the door behind him.
“I’ll deal with it all later,” he said with a small laugh, the metal-wrapped corn being held in his shirt, like the strawberries had been.
She chuckled, herself, as he pulled plates from one of the cabinets over the desk. After setting each ‘cob’ of corn down, he took the handle of the spoon, and used it to tear open the metal wrapping, spilling out the corn ,as well as the ‘butter’ it was cooked in; and the smell was absolutely divine. After he had poured out the contents of each wrap, and they had allowed it a couple minutes to cool, they dug in, with Kyle providing another large dollop of butter on each plate, instructing her that the best way to eat it is to slather it with butter, which was easiest done by simple rolling the corn in the butter.
It was delicious; better than the smell, even. For several minutes, they were both silent, each enjoying the crisp, rich taste of the Earth food. Finally, they had cleared the cobs of all the edible kernels, and had also each taken a bit of time to gnaw on the film that surrounded said kernels, that had stayed stuck to the cob. Kyle then went over to the tree and collected a large bunch of fruit, consisting of a couple peaches, a bunch of red grapes, a bunch of blackberries, and a few strawberries. He took them over to the desk, collected a bowl from another cabinet, and after retrieving a knife from the desk, began cutting up the bigger fruits into smaller pieces, depositing them in the bowl. After he was done, he shook the bowl around, effectively stirring the fruit without any utensils. He then set the bowl down, and retrieved two forks from the desk. He set one down in front of her and - with a slight smile -asked,
“You okay with sharin’ a bowl with me, or would you prefer your own?”
She picked up the fork and - without a word - began spearing pieces of fruit. He gave a small smile at that, and she could have sworn she saw a bit of relief in that smile, but she was focused on eating her dessert. And it was delicious, as well.
Not that any of the fruit she was eating was necessarily better
than any she’d eaten before, but it was all entirely new
, and all delicious. She particularly liked the peaches, though calling them the ‘best’ was only possible by a small margin.
They wound up spending all day in his room, talking about their lives back home, their likes and dislikes, and generally just becoming friends. She was a bit surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, and the more she got to know him, the more she believed that she didn’t want to know why his race was a Class 12.
She also met the A.I. that had volunteered to work with him - she was not
assigned to him, as the humans accepted their A.I. as equals, and didn’t treat them as simple computer programs. And she had to admit, Kay’Eighty was a very personable being, being just as emotive as any biological person she’d ever met.
They had a nice dinner in his equipment room, him grilling a steak on the smaller pit in his closet, along with some of the salad he’d made for her, consisting of what he called ‘lettuce’, ‘tomatoes’, ‘cucumbers’, slivers of ‘carrots’, and ‘croutons’, which were little squares of re-baked bread, which left them more crunchy than if it had simply been toasted. Once again, everything was delicious.
Finally, she began to feel the effects of having been drinking and talking all day, and began to feel drowsy. Upon noticing this, Kyle began cleaning up, then - more gently than before - lifted her to his shoulder, again, and as such, they left his equipment room. From there, he escorted her directly to her ‘living’ room, where he bid her goodnight, waiting to leave until the door closed behind her.
My gf and I have been together for almost 3 years now. I love her very much and I actually think she’s the love of my life. There’s only one thing that I absolutely can’t stand about her and it’s how awfully disgusting their house is. I live pretty far from her which is why whenever I visit I tend to sleepover for a week max especially during the lockdowns before. Whenever I visit I can’t help but cringe because of how dirty everything is. She lives with her mom and two younger brothers and they currently have 8 dogs.
Just to give you guys a visualization of how messy it is I’ll lay out in detail what you’ll see on a regular day once you go inside their house just so everyone knows I’m not exaggerating: as soon as you open the front door stench of dog shit and pee will hit you like a truck, their living room floor is filled with it and it sometimes extends to the dining and kitchen area. The sink in the kitchen will probably be stacked with unorganized dirty dishes which sometimes extends to the counter tops as well. The dining table and the kitchen island is filled with spilled watefood debris and leftover food. The refrigerator is unorganized and filled with leftover food that hasn’t been touched or reheated in days. Even the kitchen cabinets and the walls (which are white) are stained with grime/brownish stuff. Once you go upstairs to where the bedrooms are, the hallway is also filled with poop and pee and carcasses of whatever it is the dogs decided to rip up and play with (e.g. comforters, the loofah from their bathroom, cardboard boxes, plastic bottles etc.). The bathrooms (which have no locks and doorknobs) are filled with wet dog fur and random stuff that the dogs destroyed since they like hanging out there. The living room is basically inhabitable because of how there’s constantly poop everywhere and things are scattered everywhere. I also have a hard time eating at their dining room most of the time because of how I can see and smell all the dog shit and pee (I asked her once if they were used to it that it doesn’t bother them and she said yes) . They’d only clean it once a week or sometimes even longer than that so just imagine how much dog shit and pee accumulates. The dogs are also very filthy and are only given baths once or twice a month and I even saw one drink water directly from the toilet bowl. They also love playing around in the bathroom and get all wet and muddy. I used to consider myself a dog lover since growing up, my family and I loved adopting strays and take care of them (I currently have 2 dogs, both potty trained and regularly bathed) back at home who I love very much. But seeing how they let the dogs get so dirty and shit everywhere and anywhere, I can’t even bear to pet them or go near them. They used to only have 2 adult dogs: a husky which can only be bathed once a month apparently and a golden that stinks most of the time and is barely given a bath as well, but then the husky gave birth to 6 puppies which made everything worse of course. Even way before when they only had one dog, the house had rats because of how messy everything was. The only time I saw the house get really clean was when they re-hired a house helper that used to work for them in one of the houses they’ve lived in before. Now that that helper left, everything is back to shit again. Literrally. They originally planned on selling the puppies which is such a relief since there’d be less poop around but then they decided to keep 2 so now there’d still be 4 dogs that aren’t potty trained.
I would always try to help out by doing the dishes, cleaning after myself, giving the dogs a bath whenever they’d allow me to, cleaning her room (the only place in the house I could stand since the dogs don’t go in there when I visit so there’s no dog poop and pee), etc. I also used to sweep and mop the floor before they had so many dogs but I can’t now because I hate the smell of dog shit and pee (my gf also knows this). I don’t know what to feel anymore because even though I am very much turned off from how dirty everything is in their house, I feel bad because I know that most of the time my gf is the only person who cooks and clean in their house. Her two brothers are still young (16 and 13 y/o) and they can’t be relied on much when it comes to chores, her mom is a single mom working 2 or more jobs most of the time which is why she also can’t look after the house most of the time. In our house,we never had a house helper but we managed just fine which is why I was also shocked when I first saw how messy and filthy their house was.
The only reason why I am asking for advice here on reddit only now even though it’s already been 2 years of this is because before, I would only visit so I only had to bear with it for a week max and go back to my clean and comfortable home. However, something recently happened with my family and I (too long of a story to include here) which is why in the meantime I am living with my gf in her house just until I can work things out and find a place of my own. I feel like such an asshole to even complain about this and I would understand if people here call me one too since my gf and her family welcomed me in their home and I know how hard it must be for my gf since she’s currently stressed about college as well. Again, I still try to help out by doing the all dishes everyday, cleaning her bedroom, mopping and sweeping the floor when it isn’t covered by poop, etc. But I really can’t stand it anymore and even if I do find a place of my own already, I know I’d still be visiting her from time to time since it’s always been that way in our relationship (I visit her more than she visits me) so the problem would still be there. Please help me because I really don’t know what to do anymore.
TL;DR: I am now temporarily living with my gf of almost 3yrs. but I can’t stand how filthy their house is even when I try my best to help out and I don’t know what to do anymore.
Sidenote: this is my first time using/posting here on reddit so please forgive me for any mistakes I might’ve made. Thank you
Like yeah okay we all know it's dumb expensive to buy a house nowadays and it literally seems like a fantasy dream 20-30 years down the line rn and I am fkn 26 this is ridiculous but also to consider: A fridge Kitchen appliances & utensils Washing machine Tables Chairs Drawers & shelves A couch Dryer if you want Dishwasher even Tv & bed (which I have already but like that's me) So many things and it all adds up to be a fkn wad of cash... even in rental situations, with fkn bond, and it just feels like paying to be in a likely temporary space so rich people can make money on the side off of someone else's need for a roof over their head I just... I'm pretty fucking sick of being an adult right now, especially one who needs their own space but has to be crammed in with their parents because hey! Retail doesn't even pay well enough for rent bc I'm not a cheap child anymore and hours are only for those who need pocket money.
Just fml frfr
This. Fucking. Cough.
I need sleep. And I can’t because I have this stupid post cold cough that’s mostly dry but triggered by the insatiable itchy throat. If I give in it only makes it worse. For like the millionth time this year because of course, daycare.
Most everything else I’ve got a plan for. Norovirus? Zofran is on hand (along with bleach). Headaches? Got the pharmacy. Kid cough? Got the protocol down (humidifier, propped up bed, honey). And obviously got the “Covid cabinet” of test strips, pulse ox and so on.
But this fucking cough makes me want to rip my hair out! Still coughing with max strength cough drops. NyQuil is good at night but it makes me groggy and I don’t want to get hooked.
How do you stop thisssssss
Love Tired of coughing
So, please hear me out and don't mock my condition. I pray all the time about it and I don't need to cry over another subreddit telling me my bipolar 1 isn't real, I'm just demon- invfested. Sorry to come off strong. I just can't handle another panic attack over those kinds of attacks. So I have bp 1. I was undiagnosed for years, I'm 34 now. My kids are 9,10, and 11. It's been about two years since I got my diagnosis. I've been on medication, just finding the right medication the struggle. Unfortunately, I've learned bad behaviors, like not taking care of myself. I tend to clutter (messy hotspots if you've heard of flylady), miss the garbage can with a crumbled paper, oh well. And just generally, messy. Now I'm finally getting clarity in my head. I can think. So for the last month almost two, I've really made a turn around. I'm still working on hygiene, but I've been establishing routines and making my bed and vacuuming and clearing hotspots. But I spend so much time cleaning up after them. I know it's my fault. Their laziness is my fault because they learned it from me. I fully take the blame. But I can't seem to fix it. Boo matter how early I'm up, with my shoes on, hair brushed, make up on (the call it my 'game face'), running back to clean up, garbage bags opening and making noise, windex showing, 'where's the Papertowels?', they don't care. If it's an easy chore, like put the controllers in the cabinet, sure. I asked them to go through the dryer and get their laundry out, well that was a fit pitching from my 9 year old. My 10 year pretended I didn't exist. My 11 year old went in and proceeded to leave half behind. The boys pee all over the toilet (like to the top of the lid. Apparently as long as the pee touches the toilet at some point then it counts). I don't expect them to be perfect or clean all the time, no one is. But I expect to not have to leave cleaner next to the toilet so I don't have to wash the seat every time (I'm not kidding) I need to sit down. Or to have an empirical for when I ask for 20 minutes if their day to help clean up the house. They've got zero guilt about literally stopping garbage on the floor. I guess I didn't get on them about that enough. How do I fix it all now? I know this was long but I'm here baring my heart with a plea for help. I'm trying so hard to get better BP wise, but it's so hard when I spend my cleaning up after things that should never have been a mess to begin in. I have a shoe bin next to the front door. Why are they in the middle of the living room where I tripped on them and fell again?
This post is a warning to avoid "All my Sons" moving company. Here is what happened:
Movers were slow and frankly too out of shape to be moving furniture. Virtually no effort made to be careful with items resulting in many dents. Took very long and frequent breaks.
Told them explicitly not to touch small items. Yet they went into a glass cabinet, grabbed a bunch of small fragile and sentimental items, and threw them loose in a box with books - some small items were broken, and a silver bullion bar was stolen.
One guy who wore sunglasses the whole time indoors just hung out in the office for hours slowly wrapping a single piece of furniture while using his phone.
After loading the truck, they asked if they could grab a black-n-mild from the store nearby and disappeared with our stuff for over 45 minutes.
The fat one would just shove heavy furniture with metal feet across a wood floor. Huge scrapes.
Was initially quoted a total moving cost not to exceed $1900. Then the main guy on the day of move said we only had them till 4:30pm, and the total charge with bogus hidden fees was nearly $1K more.
Really wish I hadn't tipped or fed those criminals.
I can’t be bothered writing my whole dream thing but there were a string of deaths and it was sort of a puzzle to work out who it was and who would be next. There was also a weird thing with my mums friends son, I was sort of seeing him in it? And I even went to give him a blowjob in it and tasted him and recoiled and ran away from him so good to know I’m polite in my dreams. I even remember it - it tasted as salty as seaweed. And anyway that was weird because I haven’t seen, thought or heard about him in forever. Funny how dreams are like that. I wish I could have more dreams of Andy. Maybe my brain just exhausts all possible thoughts of him when I’m conscious? So when I slip into a state of subconscious it’s got to bring out filler men/people. Makes sense. Sort of. Not really. I miss the dream I had where I sat on the floor between his legs while he read a story to some kids in a library or something, it felt so real. But at least it all will be real. Anyway it was a very who dunnit kinda dream.
I’ve had a slow but productive morning. I guess I turned my alarm off by mistake so I woke up at 10ish. I did my usual morning things like medication, make my bed, brush my teeth, skincare etc. I’m doing super simple skincare as my skin just seems so blah. It’s feeling okay but I just feel like perhaps my barrier is more impaired than I realised? So I’m going to stick to trust nourishing cleansing, a hydrating serum and cicaplast for the foreseeable, plus SPF in the day obviously. I’m also going to start with religiously taking vitamins this week, specifically omega 3’s as I definitely don’t consume enough via my diet and that’s showing in my skin so god only knows how it’s showing internally yknow. So I’m intending to take some kind of animal/environment friendly omega 3 which I’ll need to buy this week. I’ll take magnesium, iron and then I think maybe zinc or D3? I don’t want to overdo it, that doesn’t help, I want to keep it simple and focus on what my weekly diet is lower in and what I might need more of to help supplement my diet. Ultimately I’d like to get everything I need via diet but that’s just not realistic for me.
So far this morning I’ve done a bunch of laundry, I’ve tidied my work desk and had a major declutter so now I don’t have draws full of screwed up paper and trash basically. I now have one drawer dedicated to notebooks, stationery and that sort of thing. My other drawer is dedicated to plugs, cables, spare mouse/headset for work etc. And it’s all very nice and tidy and organised and it makes me feel nice. I am absolutely someone who gets overwhelmed when I’m surrounded by mess and clutter, I think I’m more easily overstimulated at times than I’d care to admit. Like I thought I felt an earthquake yesterday, I didn’t but it set me off a little bit and I wondered maybe I could call Andy to distract me but then the very idea of talking to anyone while also trying to suss if there’s earthquakes going on feels WAY too much and stresses me out. Same with loud music and loud TV, I really don’t like it but more so if someone is talking overtop of it or something. It’s just too much at once, I don’t mind loud things or messy things - I have no issue with them and I’d like to be more okay with them because I’m sure I used to be - but it just really stresses me out. My therapist explained it in a different way, we were talking about how I fake laugh in various contexts. I guess I should explain. So I was saying how I feel the same as everyone else but I still feel different and detached but mostly in the sense of my connection with other people. Eg. At work yesterday morning, there was a team call and a funny story was shared and objectively I found it funny, like it was quite a good story. But I didn’t want to laugh, I couldn’t bring myself to laugh, everyone else was so I faked it as usual as to not appear rude or out of place. I do this all the time and have got as long as I can remember but I find it harder to laugh the last however many years. Anyway so my point is, she compared it to me walking down the street with a friend, they’re cracking a joke and laughing and looking ahead as they walk, whereas I’m looking to my left and seeing a car imminently about to crash into us. So I’m not laughing at the joke, maybe I’d find it objectively funny but I can’t laugh as my inner alarm bells are going off saying danger danger but the friend isn’t as they don’t see the car. She said that’s how my anxiety works, and I already knew that and I’ve been told almost that same example before, but it just resonated more because she included another person in the scenario so it helped me understand my perspective and someone else’s perspective. But so she said in my work setting I am on edge, I am anxious and I am unable to feel at ease or relaxed. So therefore it’s not natural for me to feel connected and “safe” to laugh and genuinely enjoy myself. I’m too busy fielding all the danger danger thoughts racing through my mind all day every day. Whereas if I’m sprawled out on the sofa at my parents house with just us three and pups on my lap and we’re doing the crossword, I’ll be able to genuinely laugh and enjoy myself because I feel safer and more at ease. I often feel anxiety and on edge with my parents, I feel it frequently, but I can also be at ease with them and that’s when I can truly react in a genuine manner. I’ll still laugh even if it’s not entirely genuine as I don’t like to make others feel bad though, this was when I learned I’m mindful of others. Anyway. I’m rambling. I’m having a tidy up because I’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed lately especially with work and I want to set myself up for a successful week and I think step one is to declutter and clean my space so that I can breathe easier.