24(m) recently just had my birthday—celebrated it in jury duty. (Life is silly) These past few years have been horrible. In 2019 I started a reselling side-hustle to keep up with tuition payments, purchasing Nikes and Yeezys with credit cards and reselling them for profit. It was hard for me to work a physical labor job because I injured my back in 2018 and herniated a disc that still affects me today. Reselling was good money that covered tuition until it didn’t which was in 2021 during Covid when sales slowly declined because everyone was getting into reselling and it became harder and more expensive to maintain the business. I switched over to NFTs and enjoyed doing that because it was art and new tech that interested me. I told myself that if I wasn’t accepted into an internship in my degree field that summer then I would go heavy into NFTs and if that didn’t go well I would do unspeakable things because I recorded an unspeakable voice memo that same year. Of course I failed all my internship interviews and full risked-on NFTs, I had debt from tuition and nothing to lose so I threw myself into it. Fast forward to peak bull market my portfolio of NFTs is worth 400k, did I sell? No. Big mistake, after May 2022 everything started declining and I held thinking everything would go back up again but I didn’t understand the severity of the economy and after paying off debts and tuition (60k) my portfolio is now worth 50k. I graduated with a bachelors degree almost 2 years ago and am currently paying for a masters but that’s only because I’m still unemployed and can’t find a job and hang on to this invisible hope that I’ll actually find a job in my field which I probably won’t because I don’t have any internship experience and that’s my fault because I focused too much on maintaining a business to do anything. Recently my gf of 7 years also left me and I don’t blame her because I’ve been an utter failure for the longest. To put matters even worst I recently tried to file my taxes and talked with an accountant who literally laughed in my face because a transaction on NFTs is a taxable event even though it’s not converted into US dollars so now I have to pay 40k in taxes that I don’t even have. I’m still in NFTs because that’s the only field that’s accepted my work and given me a chance. But I realized I’ve lost all my confidence and it’ll feels like it’ll take years to bring it back. Life just hasn’t been going my way and I don’t think it ever will but I know that mindset will keep me at the bottom. I understand it’s my fault you don’t have to remind me that I’ve lived the wrong way, my accountant already did that for me, my friends who laugh at crypto did that for me, I’ve been the butt of the joke for years. And now it’s just affected me mentally where I’d have hours of doom and gloom and hours of believing I’ll be okay and that everything is okay, I just have strange outbursts like I have now right now and I just wanted to get this off my chest because its almost 4am and I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I kept this inside.

I live in Christchurch, recently sold our property in Linwood. We've turned a decent profit, and will end up with $250k~ ish cash after we pay off our 470k mortgage.
Problem, we have my single $100kish income, wife is a stay at home parent and we have two kids. We're not going to get approved for a new mortgage of the same value and the only way to transfer is if settlement of the sold and purchased property is on the same day according to my bank (less than 3 weeks from now).
Do I a) try and find a new house to purchase and hope that the stars align and that it works out. Lack of time to do due diligence worries me about this.
B) rent for a bit and hope we can find something... Ok? At some point soon, knowing that on a single income our mortgage options are going to be bad. My wife will likely go back to work in a year or so, at least part time.
C) purchase some bare land somewhere we'd like to end up in a few years with the intention of either paying it all in cash or with a small mortgage. We can keep saving and hopefully get a mortgage that will allow us to build in the future (either for ourselves or to sell on for a profit) + possibility of capital gains.
Feels like a very limited amount of time to make some big life decisions very quickly! But we took a risk and it didn't pay off, so I guess it is what it is.

Besides offering up chaotic open-world action, one thing that Rockstar's games have done ever since Grand Theft Auto III is push the envelope in terms of technology. This is somewhat debatable up to Grand Theft Auto IV, which stunned audiences with its mix of macro-scale simulation and micro-scale detail. GTA V and the newer Red Dead Redemption 2 have continued this tradition, and both are still capable of putting the hurt on modern PCs. That's largely thanks to their forward-looking design that integrates features that contemporary systems weren't really ready for when the released.
gtaonlinerain GTA V can still look startlingly realistic at times.
The thing is, even though it just got a re-release on the current-generation consoles, GTA V originally released in 2013. The game's still fun, of course, especially the online mode that has seen continual updates over the years. The technology behind the title is getting a little dated, though, and fans of the series are understandably chomping at the bit for a new release. Rockstar has confirmed that GTA VI (or at least, the next GTA game) is in the works, but as usual, the company hasn't released any information about the title, nor mentioned a release window.
The leaks and rumors that we've heard so far place a hypothetical "GTA VI" at the end of next year, or even in 2025. That's a lot of development time, even if the company only moved into active development in the middle of last year, as is supposedly the case. In a time when almost every other development house (from Square-Enix to CD Projekt Red) is moving to the Unreal Engine, it seems like Rockstar will thankfully stick with its own in-house tech, known as RAGE.
chrisklippeltweet
That bit of information comes from a tweet by Chris Klippel, who is among other things the creator of Rockstar Mag, a French-language gaming news site that focuses on topics surrounding Rockstar Games and its releases. You can see the tweet above. Chris says that he has been in touch with people who have seen the latest version of RAGE in action, and that its graphics engine is "assez incroyable." Chris describes the latest version as RAGE9, which is interesting; Rockstar doesn't talk about RAGE as a separate product from its games, likely because it doesn't license the tech.
gtaonlinearcade The arcade area added to GTA Online would look amazing with ray-traced lighting.
It's not hard to imagine what sort of features the game engine might include to warrant that description. Heavy usage of ray-traced graphics will go a long way toward impressive presentation, but based on what we've heard in the past about GTA VI, it seems likely that the latest RAGE might be more impressive in its ability to scale content from infinitesimal details all the way up to gigantic cityscapes. We've seen demonstrations of similar technology in Epic Games' Unreal Engine 5, and given the nature of "GTA", such capability would be perfectly suited to the games.
gta5crowd
Another impressive characteristic in GTA VI might just be the NPC AI. Historically, Grand Theft Auto's NPCs have been extremely simple stand-ins mostly intended to give the scene a realistic look without having much in the way of personality or believable behavior. That could all change in the next GTA game, based on a patent filed in October 2020.
From what we've heard, the next Grand Theft Auto title will be set in Vice City once again, so look forward to exploring the city's tropical environs. No word on the chronological setting, though; it could be set as far back as the Cuban Missile Crisis, or it could be set in the modern day. We also don't know necessarily what platforms the title will appear for, but based on Rockstar's history, we'd expect it to be available for the PS5 and Xbox before it appears on PC later.

I am a 17 year old, Thai citizen. I began living alone since November 2022 due to some circumstances which didn't allow me to live with my family in Malaysia.
I began freelancing on Fiverr, offering gaming services and coaching since it is quite popular there. I made a decent amount of about $200 monthly and that was enough to pay my rent and have leftover for a week of food.
But now, the platform has decided that I can no longer offer those services. This would mean that I have lost my primary source of income.
I am quite devastated by the news and are lost on what doors are open for me. My family has been struggling financially and I do not want to burden them further.
Being under 18 also means that quite a lot of jobs are off-limit for me. Digital wallets require users to be 18+ so I use payoneer to transfer funds to my local bank. The downside is that transactions can only be made through companies Payoneer work with.
What should I do? Is there anything else that a 17 year old can do as a job?
I am willing to learn new skills where necessary. I have experience editing videos and have coded some projects before.

All my housemates left and went to tagaytay, wala ako sa mood mag travel today so I am here alone sa place. Lets watch some movie while eating pizza? Play switch? Drink tequila? If we clicked i hope hindi to one time thing.
About me: chinito, slim/fit (started working out), working professional, can watch any movies or series that you like, financially stable, can host, baby face, nice kausap and could provide aftercare, boyfriend exp pero di naman.
About you: Normal BMI, no age preference. Biologically a girl, not a bbm fanatic, cutie, madaldal sana para walang dead air, and manila area for easy transpo, working if possible ayoko mag deal with broke girls
Hmu if interested, we can exchange pics in TG, you first.

I am a 17 year old, Thai citizen. I began living alone since November 2022 due to some circumstances which didn't allow me to live with my family in Malaysia.
I began freelancing on Fiverr, offering gaming services and coaching since it is quite popular there. I made a decent amount of about $200 monthly and that was enough to pay my rent and have leftover for a week of food.
But now, the platform has decided that I can no longer offer those services. This would mean that I have lost my primary source of income.
I am quite devastated by the news and are lost on what doors are open for me. My family has been struggling financially and I do not want to burden them further.
Being under 18 also means that quite a lot of jobs are off-limit for me. Digital wallets require users to be 18+ so I use payoneer to transfer funds to my local bank. The downside is that transactions can only be made through companies Payoneer work with.
What should I do? Is there anything else that a 17 year old can do as a job?
I am willing to learn new skills where necessary. I have experience editing videos and have coded some projects before.

An author's note: Please read this post in it's entirety before you message me, I've added a follow up to answer most of the basic questions I've been asked over the last 3 years since I started posting my AD.

All my previous iterations were mostly about what role I could fulfill; and while this mostly still is true, walking amongst the elites the last week has opened my eyes... I'm looking for a complacent trophy to put on full display. Arriving to this city I already had a deep... Passion for power, governance; and just over all domination -- Washington DC fulfills my lust, and thirst for both political power, and monetary gain. Now I want, not need an adequate toy to share this experience with. Before I was playing conservatively; not anymore,
I've allowed my ego to rampant and on auto-pilot; thus far everything is according to design.
I'm as amoral as they come; I will eviscerate my way to the top of the governmental, and corporate ladder(s). I'm a retired hacker that has realized my full potential is being squandered away, so I'll begin to kick in the doors of 3 letter agencies until recruit me; or I die trying.
I've come to the conclusion that you need to make an impression with these sort of things, so I'm going to just let my words flow freely. So here we go:
Basics:
Height: 5'7
Weight: 175, could stand to lose a few lbs to get my abs back.
Eyes: Brown eyes.
Hair: Long curly brown hair (think Slash Rose's illegitimate son.)
Race: White.
Ethnicity: Hispanic (Cuban.)
Languages: Spanish, English, Sign-language.
Profession: Network Engineer in NW DC.
Religion: Agnostic.
A little about me:
I like long walks on the beach, sunsets, oh did I mention that I'm a sadist, and that I'm utterly insane?
I've been called a silver tongued devil; Quick witted, charismatic, with just the right amount of sarcasm.
Hobbies: Not being bored, it's a lot harder than it sounds. I enjoy learning/conversing about The Universe/space, science, and technology. I was quite nomadic in my 20s, having visited two different countries, lived in over 17 states, visited over 38.
Music: I'm more of a rhythm of the beat type of person vs. lyrics, but generally I've found myself to enjoy electronica. Definitely like a lot 80s synth pop, but again, this is just the preference, not really against the rest of the genres.
Shows: Billions, Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, Board Walk Empire, Billions, Rome, Deadwood, Halt and Catch Fire, The Sopranos, South Park, Mad Men, Dexter,
Movies: Beetlejuice, Brain Scan, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb,
"What are you looking for?"
Well I can encompass a Master, a Dominant, or a Daddy, so it's really what can I provide for you?1
"How is such a thing possible?" Antisocial Personality Disorder (3.4 for those interested.)
"Why was it necessary to mention that?" To give credence as to how I can, and have been all aspects of Dominance.
"Monogamy or polyamory?" Favoritism towards polyamory, but seeing as it's rare to find multiple partners that allow me to explore my more sadistic side without tension, and/or drama, I'd go with monogamy if the individual allowed me to be depraved.
Preference in the following order: Slave, submissive, little (I will explain further below.)
Kinks: Sadism, TPE, CNC, bondage, degradation, humiliation, knife play, rope play, rape/abduction play, choking, impact play, spanking, hair pulling (I think you get the idea by now, there are still far more, here's a more comprehensive list.)
Experience: 15+ years.
​
​
So about that whole preference thing, as I am on the ASPD spectrum I'm capable of fulfilling whatever role(s) are required of me to get what I want. So let me explain further, I'm openly telling you far ahead of time that I lack emotions and empathy, with the hopes that me giving you the illusion of whatever it is you require, will be met with reciprocation of the kinks we can agree upon. This is where the waters get muddied for little's, I can definitely treat you like the princess you want to be, without all the douche-baggery you'll deal with as people tugging at your heart strings. Plenty of people around here pretend to be Daddies and will leave you absolutely heartbroken. Tired of games? Tired of bullshit? Well here's someone willing to give you all the care, attention, and affection you desire without any hassles.
"Why would you want to be a Daddy Dom given your lack of emotions, and empathy?"
I am a social chameleon. I've been perfecting my art for the majority of my life, I like the challenge. I like to learn people and, give them what they want with the idea that I get what I want in the end, it's called a social transaction. I know what respect is, and I believe I need to write a little about this. Once we've discussed clear limits, and terms, they shall not be crossed, it's counter productive for me to lose my play thing(s). I can be fiercely territorial of all my possessions, that includes the individual(s) I'm involved with, what is mine will be protected, whether you're a slave, a submissive, or a little.If you want someone to completely treat you like trash, I'm more than willingly to oblige, if you need a savior and a protector, well I can do that too. I'm able to encompass what is required; a means to an end.
"What are you looking for in a submissive?" I'd like it to extend outside of the bedroom, but if it doesn't, whatever, I'm not going to repeat myself, so hopefully you've read this in it's entirety.
"What are you looking for in a slave?" Mostly aesthetics, and objectification. Of course I'd expect loyalty, servitude, and there's a plethora more, but I don't feel I need to be too descriptive on this part.
Now that I've written a fucking novel about myself, let's get to you....
Age: I prefer them younger (18+) , but have dated women as old as 45; generally if I find you attractive, I won't care.
Height: the shorter the better, but I've dated women taller than myself, not a deal breaker.
Weight: I'd like someone on the smaller side, a few extra pounds will be acceptable, but no one overweight please, just not my thing.
I will list things below in order of preference, not necessarily a disqualifier. (This is only opinion, not a rating system.)
Race: White, but as long as I'm attracted I won't care, I don't discriminate.
Ethnicity: N/A read above.
Language(s): The more the merrier, accents are a huge plus, whether a southern drawl, or other.
Religion: I'm completely open to allowing you to practice whatever you'd like, just don't expect me to participate; I can be respectful of your beliefs, as long as you're respectful of mine, I am a man of science, The Universe is my religion (so to speak.)
Eyes: Blue, green, hazel, brown (If you have Heterochromia iridum you move to the front of the line, I like mutations.)
Hair: The longer the better, no preference as to style, as for color: I prefer true blondes, redheads, dirty blondes, and then brown.
Tattoos: Sure, whatever, as long as it's not overwhelming or flat out tacky, in this day in age it's harder to find someone with none, so as the trend follows above.
Piercings: Depends, some people can pull off septum piercings, but I personally dislike them, so if it compliments your facial features, sure why not. But there is definitely a breaking point where it becomes overwhelming and you just look like Hellraiser.
Education: Strong preference towards educated women, this does not necessarily mean academics, open to all.
Profession: No preference, but I do tend to like women in psychology (I have my reasons.)
Personality: If I have to learn "your" pronouns, or apologize for my "white male privilege" you can fuck right off; I don't care about politics.
Children: Strong preference in favor of not having them, unless we never intend to meet, or you don't expect a level of commitment from me to them, then I don't readily care, non-factor. To explain a tad bit, it isn't that I can't, I just would rather not raise children, I have too many plans in life that children would derail, maybe later.
If you're interested in communicating further, I prefer talking on these platforms and in this order: Discord, WhatsApp, Reddit Chat\, Skype, Kik,* open to other forms of contact.
\Reddit Chat isn't the same thing as their mailing system, just an FYI.*
Go ahead and shoot me a message, I'm waiting.
​
An update:
Well just to filter some things out, since I get this so many times... I will not be putting a big editorial process to this update(I say this now, after already re-reading, and editing a minimum of 5 times; I'm a slave to my own perfectionism,) so if you mostly have questions about me, ASPD, and things of the like, read this before you message me.
​
While I absolute love to talk about myself because I'm just such a narcissistic-hedonist, I also do get bored of repeating myself, even if it is a new person. As such read everything in it's entirety before you message me, as I'm going to entertain less, and less messages about me, and not what I'm seeking, I'd rather focus on only replying to potential partners, and absolutely nothing else, that being said if anything I have not covered in this update, or post still burns an answer from you, by all means message me.
​
​
"Were you formally diagnosed?"
I get asked about this A LOT, I'm not going to go into very many details, suffice it to say, yes, but it's been labeled as a misdiagnosis, all you need to know is I score high, and I do the things you'd expect, the pyromania, the violence that is actually associated at early age, the works, I'm not comfortable giving you more beyond that, and I will not be entertaining questions about my personal life, maybe a partner could ask me those questions, but I'm not letting you in my head, that's my game, not the other way around :).
Please do your own research beyond this point, it's borderline laziness how often I keep getting asked about this.
​
"Why are you so open about it(ASPD)?"
Isn't it obvious? A lot of you can't fathom why someone with ASPD would just openly come out, and admit to people, well I guess I really should've brushed up on this when I first made my post, or at least go into a far more descriptive detail than I had originally, so here goes:
​
If I'm ever to lead a sort of a long term relationship based on trust, and honesty, just how in the HELL do you expect me to explain this to you ever so casually? It's best to show your cards in the beginning, this is my own baggage, or some form there of.
​
There's two reasons I'm choosing to do this online, and vehemently under anonymity; 99% of you will be irrelevant to me, 99% of you will never meet me, it's just that simple, ergo why wouldn't I just preface my entire description as such, and as brutally honest as possible? Secondly I do not want a partner whom I need to continue to wear a mask for, I want to be me, the real me, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
​
What I find the most is women that fetishize the entire ordeal, that's all fine and dandy, but it does show just a lack of understanding about what APSD is as a whole, and to be perfectly blunt, you're wasting my time, I don't need to feed into your lonely thrill romance you spun in your head from watching true crime dramas. More often than not, this what happens, spare us the role-playing, I'm just not that bored.
​
"Empathy"
One clear distinction I'd like to make, so I can stop getting asked about it, we DO have empathy, it's just not how YOU experience empathy. Think of a light switch, by default most of the population's is on, ours is off by default, and furthermore we have the ability to turn it on, and off. Yes, it is that simple, yes we use it for manipulation, now stop asking me about this, it's boring to repeat this.
​
"Emotions"
Boredom, rage. This is what I'm capable of in the dark, empathy off. I'm constantly seeking stimuli, if you notice by actually looking through my posts, I've moved a ton of times, and always national parks... New atmosphere, new adventures, new dangers, you know, the shit that gets your heart pumping, adrenaline. This is my favorite drug, this is the high I constantly chase to kill the boredom. Rage is just self explanatory, my defaults are animalistic.
I am fully capable of experiencing all emotions, it's just for the most part, because I don't want do, I don't allow myself to.
​
"Manipulation"
For the longest time I told myself who cares if I burn bridges in my wake, I'm building a highway in its place. Mostly still true, and I absolutely use it on a daily basis for survival, I must stress, and emphasize survival, here is why; I'm human, like the rest of you, what do you do on a daily basis, if not find means, and ways to survive, and entertain yourself? I know no other way other than to use people to my advantage, I minimize the damage where I can, and move about my daily existence, guilt, and worry free about doing any wrong, an argument could be made that we all use each other in some weight, or capacity, and that's good enough for me.
​
I'm sure by now you're probably wondering what the hell any of that has to do with anything, it's simple if the point flew over your head, again. I'm tired of manipulating people, using them, abusing them, discarding them, I didn't grow a conscious I'm not "growing" as a person, but much more likely, I'm just bored of the routine, or the process, which has become the symphony of my life.
​
"Love"
I by no means ever want to experience this love you all chase like Alice clumsily falling down the rabbit hole. I've seen it so much in my life it's downright pathetic, and I actually feel bad for those of you that have such strong emotions, see empaths. You're slaves to these emotions, you let people use and manipulate you, you've been hurt, and had your heart ripped from your chest, and it feels like you no longer have purpose, lacking direction, and meaning in life. I merely know this from generally observing humans for most of my natural born life. I'm more than happy to remain the way I have always been, and never wish to experience emotions in the way you do, I find it to be an advantage, one I can apply to more important things in life, like the pursuit of knowledge.
​
I hope the psych nerds will now stop asking me these questions, I've paid my dues.
​
"Preferences"
My preferences, are just that, a list of my preferences, at no point in any of my writing did I say I was prejudice between one thing, or that I show favoritism. I merely made a chart listing some of the attributes that I myself, personally find to be significant to me, but that isn't to say, or detract from other things. It's the equivalent of asking me if I prefer Metallica, or Megadeth; well I'm going to say I prefer one over the other, but I enjoy both, and the genre as a whole, the genre being women in this case. I enjoy women for my own personal entertainment, and amusement -- which makes it all the more hilarious to me when I get called a misogynist.
so please spare me all your comments, and messages telling me that it's so "intimidating", if my post intimidates you, what can I really even begin to say about that? It doesn't sound like we'd be compatible, or much less you'd be able to accept me as a person, in any case this is a personal issue.
​
"You Need Help!"
I know what the help is, they just remind you repeatedly that your actions have consequences, they do not prescribe a medication for this, just therapy, and I know enough already to check myself, it really is that easy.
P.S:
"To My Adoring Fans"
You call me an edge-lord, cringe, and a wide range of inane insults, that truly don't phase me, since I get a lot of these messages, I thought I'd give you my rebuttal; just so you know I sleep naked so that anyone that doesn't like me, can kiss my ass - feel free to visit anytime!
P.S.S: I now operate, function, and walk amongst the elite of the nation; I see my kind everywhere, this is what Rome must of felt like in it's heyday; Cicero you clever bastard... I bid you all adieu -- and depart with this:
{"Το σύμπαν είναι αλλαγή. η ζωή μας είναι αυτό που την κάνουν οι σκέψεις μας.";}
Sincerely,
<~sodomy>

I [15F] recently transferred to a new school, I’m a freshman but I was put in a sophomore health class because I was in a health class at my last school, so I was in a room with only sophomores, my health teacher has made it clear she doesn’t like me, she always ignores me and takes points off of group projects for me, yet my partner will get 100%, and will try to find any reason to take my phone.
I was looking down one day, messing w/ the rips on my jeans, and she held her hand out in front of me, I asked why and she said “I know you have a phone” she didn’t even try to be respectful so I just scoffed and told her i was playing with the rips on my jeans, all of my friends around me told her i was playing with the rips on my jeans, but she still took my phone away for “wasting class time.”
Not long after this incident, there was a walk out for a guy at my school who got expelled, and over half of my class got up and walked out, phones in hand, filming and posting on snapchat to ”free him,” my teacher just said she was “glad they were doing this for their friend“ and it would be a good ”learning experience” yet when you looked out the window, it was just a crowd of people on their phone.
So naturally, I thought it would be okay to pull out my phone to text my dad back, I know that sounds like a lame excuse to use my phone, but I live almost an hour from my school, so we are always on lookout for if I need to find a ride, or what the ride home situation will look like.
Before I could even explain, my teacher takes my phone and scrolls through me and my fathers texts, I was absolutely livid, not only did she take my phone, but she invaded my privacy, I don’t care what she was looking at wether it was bad or not, it’s the principle of it, and an invasion of my privacy regardless.
I decided I was done w/ her, I stood up and shouted “you’ll let them walk out and use their phones, but i cant text my dad?“ with some added profanities. I should add that I do have some anger issues, which i go to therapy and counseling to help with outside of school, but I’ve just recently started going, so i’m still working on controlling myself. my teacher was furious and sent me to the office.
My parents aren’t angry at me, but some of my friends are so, AITA?

I'm just gonna start this out by saying this is about my parents, not a relationship. I am a minor and I am not old enough to move out of my house yet.
Ever since I was 13, I have always wanted to leave my house. My parents overload me with pressure in school, pushing me into higher and higher classes that I wasn't recommended for and then grounding me for a month when I asked to switch out of AP History after having a complete breakdown. I was punished for not being able to handle AP History (was recommended for academic), Honors Chemistry (was recommended to stick with lower level biology) and senior-level Precalculus (was recommended to retake Algebra 2, the course I had done in freshman year). They told me that I wasn't trying hard enough, when I was pulling all-nighters and getting incredibly sick just to get all my work done. And when I did my homework in front of them, they got mad if I struggled or just assumed this was classwork I hadn't finished.
My grades have always, ALWAYS been expected to be perfect As. Not A minuses, as my dad made very clear. Bs were something where he would shake his head and throw it back in my face, and my mom would just have the Look of Infinite Disappointment on. And yeah, maybe I could pull that in middle school, but as I've gotten older the challenges have gotten harder and harder until they eventually went over my skill level, while the expectations have always been the same. My parents threaten, and have done so before, to take away theatre from me (I'm an actor and dancer) when I don't reach the impossible expectations. They assume that's what's distracting me, when that's actually the only thing I feel comfortable enough with that doesn't distract me!
Every good thing I do is just invalidated, often not even commented on before jumping straight to the bad things. I can never just have a win, it always is "you could've been so much better, do this and this and that".
They treat me like an adult in the workforce, talk/yell to me like an adult in the workforce, and hold me to the same standards as an adult in the workforce. But I'm not! Now is the time when I should be making mistakes and figuring out who I am, not listening to crazy work metaphors and being shouted at like I'm fourty something! They expect me to succeed, but I can't succeed because I've been set up to fail.
They always get so mad if I ever dare to push back, saying things like "oh, of course I'm the bad guy" like they're freaking Mother Gothel from Tangled. I'm sorry, but when you tried to push me out of your truck on a busy road at night and told me to walk home after I said I wasn't ready to get my driver's license, you kind of ARE the bad guy! And my mom and dad can do absolutely no wrong in each other's eyes. Mom never stops Dad when he goes too far and tries to hurt me, and Dad never calls Mom out when she lashes out at us and actually does hurt me. If I ever lashed out, god forbid, I'd probably have my head cut clean off with a butter knife. But when Mom does it, it's all good! She used to at least apologize and promise she'd be better, but not only did she never keep that promise, she eventually stopped caring to apologize in general.
My feelings are always, always invalidated. If I'm ever dumb enough to get mad or cry, my dad will tell me to cut the teenage bull'crap' or straight out ask if I'm on my you-know-what. They talk so condescendingly to me when I dare show emotion, always following whatever happened up later with "you know, we're not awful parents", "you should consider yourself lucky to have parents like us", "we let you have a lot of choices we're really not comfortable with you making" (yeah, right, my mom wanted to change my new name when I came out as trans), and the always-hated "we're a lot better than your friends' parents".
They're always so focused on keeping up appearances, not actually being good parents. I'm constantly being shoved in other people's faces to show how well my parents have raised me, and I'm constantly reminded that I'm upholding their image and it's "not about me". And everyone I know eats it up! My neighbors and family members are always talking about how lucky I am and how awesome my parents are, and I know they'd never believe me if I asked for them to let me stay there. They'd never believe me, even after I tell them all the stuff I've said here and even more stuff I couldn't type out.
I just really want to get out of this house. I cry in my bed most nights, wishing for them to kick me out so I have an excuse to leave. That's not normal, right? And it's not normal to see your parents kicking you out as a thing that could actually happen in reality, right?
I don't know. This post was a mess. I couldn't figure out how to say a bunch of stuff, and I probably used the word "always" too much. And there's a good chance I'm overreacting to what has been my entire life. Sorry if that's the case, but thanks for reading I guess?

Hello! I’m currently in my second year of college and I’m having a dilemma of whether to keep studying at my current school or transfer to a less-competitive school and pursue a high-paying job offer. The (startup) company I’m working for offered me a full-time position (around 450k peso monthly/100k USD annually). Choosing to study at my current school would make me unable to do anything else, more so if it’s a full-time work. My option is to transfer to a less-competitive school, but the school I’m eyeing for won’t be crediting my previous years, so I’ll most likely be a first-year again. There’s also an option to pursue Singapore courses online. My parents are supportive whichever I choose, but I’m not sure what to pursue. How important is school degree in this industry? Is work experience from a startup company more important than a good academic background? It’s also based in France, so I won’t be able to build connections locally (literally no Filipino).
If anyone can also recommend me a good school, that would be great. Thank you! :)

I recently moved to a newly constructed house that is right on the edge of town. The neighborhood's power goes out about twice a week for whatever reason. Usually it isn't out for very long, but occasionally it is out for a few hours. We don't have cell access out here, so without our WiFi, we have no access to the internet. I work from home, so this is extremely disruptive. I also have a server that really should be on 24/7 because it hosts web sites and other web services.
The point of all of this is to say that I would ideally not like to ever have my power go out. I want to buy a generator that automatically turns on and I don't notice any disruption in service.
Questions I have:
If I get a unit that automatically turns on and has an automatic transfer switch, is there a delay between the power going out and the generator taking over?
How can I measure how much power my house draws to make sure I get one that provides sufficient power? Obviously I don't need to be doing laundry or playing PC games while the power is out, but I do want it to be able to power most of my house, including my appliances, internet, and TV.
My house is on a slight slope with grass on all sides. Do I need to have a concrete slab put in (like an AC unit sits on) to make sure the generator is level? Who would I even talk to about putting one in if I needed it?

My employment contract says my salary is based on 86.67 hours semi monthly and any overtime is banked for time off.
However, a few months ago my employers switched from a semi monthly schedule to a biweekly schedule. Since then I am not getting any overtime until after 88 hours. Which is not what my original contract states.
There may also be confusion on my employers part regarding overtime laws here in AB. Employment standards states overtime is considered anything over 8 hours in a day, or 44 hours in a week. I almost always work more than 8 hours a day, but not always more than 44 hours a week (we are a M-F business). Does it have to be over 8 hours AND 44 hours a week to be considered OT? My employer is not responding to my inquiries on this.
There has been a great amount of mishandling payroll during my time with the company. To put it simple, I’ve discovered that they are the type pf employer who will try anything to save a buck, if they can get away with it!

So I just finished my first semster and failed Real analysis and Linear algebra (theoretical). Now I am in a bad academic place as If I fail 1 more test this current new semster, then I am ****ed. But not only in this university, but in all good universities in my country. Which is ridiculous because I took the hardest courses possible (Math+Physics double Bsc), why can't I just switch without a hustle to an easier degree like engineering..
All this, I think, is because of my background, since I didn't finish high school due to my sick father and didn't study enough linguistic subjects (and barely read books) and so my language skills aren't as developed as my numerical skills (I got almost an A (79/100) in Physics 1 for physicists (which is significantly harder than the engineering course, especially mathematically), about 5 points above average, and 85/100 in a applied calculus course where the pass score was only 45/100. Also scored top 1% in the math section in the local version of SAT).
I am so anxious right now, as I made my mind to switch to Aerospace engineering + Physics, for which I must be academically sound before I file for a transfer. I literally get moments where I am almost shaking and can't calm myself. I want to drink coffee all day and eat junk food.

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You’re stuck in a pair of “golden handcuffs”: running a mildly-successful agency but beholden to your clients, your staff, and your phone.
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Couple days ago ShrtFly links don't allow me to get to the intended web link (worked normal before).
After the 2nd countdown finishes the randomly generated webpage gets greyed out and doesn't let me get the web link. This was tested on both Chrome and Firefox (Windows).
Example of link I'm trying to access: https://stfly.me/5qZNt
Gif of website not letting me click the link: https://imgur.com/a/WcGo4m4
Also purged all cache and updated on both browsers / disabled other extensions.

I (21M) live with my mother and sister (who has an intellectual disability, but not relevant to this story), my father passed away some time ago. We recently moved from a rental to a home of our own, and I've been working a few days a week alongside my college studies, which have been going good. Because of our financial situation, I save some money for myself and pass on a bit to my mother to assist with bills and whatnot. Note that I myself cannot move out due to personal and financial reasons.
I recently bought myself a Nintendo Switch, which I have been wanting for a number of years but didn't buy until this year because of the fear that my mother, who has the habit of hating my hobbies, would either confiscate or outright smash it. She's done this sort of thing before, I should add, and thus I did not tell her I bought it. I usually don't buy things like this for myself, but because it was my birthday, I thought, why not?
Well I don't know how she found out, but when I came home from my shift today, the house was empty and my room was, essentially, ransacked. My clothes everywhere, my bags open, my drawers open, and my laptop (which i've had since 2016) damaged on the screen. My Switch was in my bag, but untouched, meaning my mother found it but did not take it. I don't know why, some sort of scare tactic? I immediately called my mother and asked if she did it. She said yes, under the guise of "making me clean my clothes and room", which is ridiculous as I always keep my room tidy and sort my belongings out. I yelled at her for a good 30 seconds, telling her this was an invasion of my privacy and the sort.
As a result, I've been thinking of buying and installing a lock for my door. My mother has one on her door, so I don't see any reason why I can't. It sounds very strange, I know, but I don't know what to do.
WIBTA if I did this? Thanks for your time.

The gas giant loomed large in the viewport, ballooning as the ship coasted toward it, the colorful blue hues of its swirling bands reflecting the glow of the system’s star.
Darren could make out the bright, scarred surface of an ice moon drifting lazily past, framed against the rivers of flowing hydrogen and helium. Silhouetted against the Jupiter-mass object was their destination – Halfpoint Station.
Having come from Earth, which was still a backwater when compared to many of the Imperium’s more developed worlds, the sheer size and grandeur of the structure took his breath away.
It was hard to gauge its true scale in the vacuum of space where there was no atmospheric haze, and there were no landmarks for reference, the unfiltered light creating harsh shadows. As they drew nearer, however, he was able to pick out some of the massive fuel tankers that swarmed its ports like clouds of gnats.
Those vessels put anything created by Humanity to shame – their purpose being to dip into the upper atmosphere of the gas giant, harvesting its resources to fuel the ships that made their berth here.
Calling it enormous was an understatement. It must have been nine miles tall, the main hull of the station forming a long, relatively thin vertical shaft. Surrounding that shaft were half a dozen rotating rings, each one connected to the central column by spokes, the pinpoints of innumerable windows glinting as they slowly turned.
At its apex was a dome of immense proportions, sitting proudly atop the structure, the crystalline material that made up its transparent hull glittering in the starlight. Inside, he could make out glimpses of regal skyscrapers and patches of parkland – an entire city encapsulated in a habitat that had a breathtaking view of the planet.
Darren pursed his lips as he looked down at the device on his wrist, the tiny display showing the familiar text of an article he must have read at least a dozen times by this point.
Halfpoint Station was situated on the outskirts of the Imperium’s sphere of influence, a region of space known only as the Periphery. This put it soundly outside of Purp jurisdiction, but the place still saw a lot of traffic, as the station was right in the middle of a relatively well-traveled shipping route between the three big powers.
While it had started its life as little more than a place to fuel up and get resupplied, being located outside any of the major spheres of influence had its benefits, and the station had garnered a bit of a reputation for its more permissive policies. Now, it was said to be populated by hired guns, smugglers, gamblers, and anyone else who might appreciate discretion.
The Human frowned as he looked out the window once more and tried to reconcile the gleaming edifice before him with the dark reputation the article in his hands presented.
He didn’t have long to dwell on it before the pilot’s crackly voice came through a hidden intercom in the cabin, informing the passengers that they were commencing docking procedures.
The woman spoke in accented Shil. What that accent was, Darren had no clue, but he knew it wasn’t the same one spoken by his professors – linguistic or mechanical.
He glanced around at his fellow travelers, seeing a few species that he didn’t recognize, along with the more familiar Shil’vati. The aliens were easily identifiable by the purple hue of their skin, their sharp tusks, and their seven-foot height.
Several of them returned his gaze, some curious, some covetous.
Males were rare in the Imperium.
Hell, males were rare, period.
By the standards of most races out in the galaxy, Humanity were the strange ones for having an equal number of men and women. Even six years into the occupation, most were still struggling to adapt to the new paradigm brought on by that reality.
Darren was no exception.
Still, he managed to ignore the stares, turning his attention to the smart display on his wrist, bringing up his itinerary. He was headed to Hab-Ring Five, and the only information that he’d been given beyond that were some coordinates to who-knew-where.
He sighed, wishing – not for the first time – that he might have a fellow first timer to converse with.
Unfortunately, that was a pipe dream.
The lack of other Humans on his ship wasn’t surprising. The Imperium had only recently relaxed enough to begin authorizing travel visas allowing Humans to leave Earth, and his kind were still a rarity on the Galactic stage.
As to why he was out here out in the ass end of space?
He’d been offered a job.
He was an engineer by trade, at least according to his degree, and he specialized in the combination of alien and Human technology. It might seem like an oddly specific skillset, but it was one that was in high demand, as just about every industry on Earth was trying to take advantage of the opportunities provided by the Imperium’s literal space-age technology.
It was complicated work, but he was quite good at it, if he said so himself – and his professors seemed to agree. His gift had catapulted him through university and had apparently landed him a very lucrative offer to take up a position on Halfpoint.
How they’d heard of him, he wasn’t too sure. Nor did he truthfully know exactly what the job entailed. Apparently, he was to be briefed on-location.
Regardless, off-world work was a rare opportunity for any Human, let alone one fresh out of school, and visiting an alien space station was a lot more interesting than backpacking around Europe for a year.
Whatever happened, it was going to be an adventure.
The ship matched velocity with one of the rotating rings, the structure at least half a mile tall in its own right, covered in tiny windows that made it look like a whole city block had been condensed down into the shape of a donut.
Now that he was a little closer, Darren could see that the station was actually far from pristine. Its hull was pocked with haphazard repairs, the newer sections shining brighter than their older counterparts, its armored panels pitted with little craters from space debris and micro-meteorite impacts.
The ship lined up with a docking port, and an umbilical walkway began to extrude from the ring, reaching out towards them. It looked like the jib of a crane, covered over with a flexible material that bore a suspicious resemblance to a grey tarp.
Surely it wasn’t actually a tarp? No, it had to be some kind of alien supertech – too advanced for him to recognize at a glance.
Right?
His thoughts did little to reassure him as the umbilical connected to the shuttle’s airlock with a tangible thud.
Shaking his head, he retrieved his travel bag, then made his way down the aisle to join the queue of passengers who were waiting to disembark. More of them crammed in behind him, and he tried to ignore their uncomfortable proximity.
He hadn’t actually spent a lot of time around aliens during his schooling. One of his professors had been a Shil, but she had been professional to a fault and had always kept a healthy distance from her students.
Of course, she had still managed to be rather intimidating despite that, her head seeming to scrape the ceiling every time she stepped into the classroom. However, Darren was rapidly discovering that being surrounded by women who stood head and shoulders above him was a different experience altogether.
It was nothing to get worked up over, though. He just needed to-
The Shil standing behind him pressed close – uncomfortably close – Darren swearing that there was room enough in the aisle for her to keep her distance. Suddenly, he felt a sharp twinge in his rear.
Had she just...pinched him? No, it had to have been a mistake.
He turned to glance over his shoulder, looking up at the towering Purp. “Sorry, Ma’am, I must have bumped into you.”
Her sly smile faded as she furrowed her brow in confusion. Before she had time to formulate a reply, the intercom above the exit beeped.
“Oh, looks like we’re moving again!” Darren chimed as he began to follow the queue. “Sorry!”
He followed the procession of towering women into the passenger ship’s airlock. Both of the pressurized doors were open, and before him stretched the umbilical. The worryingly thin material that protected them from the deadly vacuum of space was wrapped taut around a metal frame, and the walkway beneath his feet was made up of a simple grate.
After a short walk, they emerged into a cavernous dock area, so large that it was more like standing in some kind of indoor stadium than anything that could be compared to a space station. There were stacks of shipping containers and unidentifiable machinery everywhere he looked.
It was a challenge not to stop and examine the equipment, each new sight piquing his interest, each strange device begging to be investigated. As he followed the other passengers to the far end of the room – his head on a swivel – he almost bumped into one of the containers. To his surprise, it was floating a foot off the ground, suspended on an anti-gravity cushion.
It was funny – no matter how many times he saw it, it never stopped being surreal to see something just…float.
As he stooped to look beneath it, an irritated dockworker leaned out from behind it to yell at whoever was in her way. She stopped when she saw him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. She was a Rakiri, if Darren remembered correctly. She resembled a towering werewolf, a pair of cat-like eyes peering out from beneath her black fur, her facial features strangely leonine. She was clad in dirty, yellow coveralls that hung loosely from her broad shoulders, exposing the ragged tank top that she wore beneath it. Tufts of her dark coat poked out around the faded garment, giving her a surprisingly fluffy appearance.
“You lost, boy?” she asked as she shooed him out of her path. “Stay behind the yellow warning markings unless you want to get that cute butt smushed,” she added with a nod toward the deck. She continued to push her heavy container, moving it effortlessly on its gravity cushion.
More dock workers were assembling to stare at him, perhaps having never seen a Human before. Or perhaps it was because he was male? It was hard to tell. Either way, a small crowd of yellow-clad women saw him off, a couple of them hooting at him and waving. Not sure if this was some kind of alien greeting, he shyly waved back, eliciting laughter from them after a moment of surprise.
One started to make her way over to him before a menacing growl from her superior made her freeze in place sheepishly. Darren took that as his cue to move on – he didn’t want to get anyone else in trouble by being in the way.
He arrived at a security gate, and after being asked to show his visa, he was subjected to a very thorough – and in his opinion unnecessary – pat-down. Once he was cleared, he emerged into the station proper. He stepped out of the way of the women behind him, then set his travel bag down on the metal deck, taking in the alien sights and sounds for a moment.
Far from being a sterile, clinical environment, he found himself in a bustling bazaar worthy of any city back on Earth. It scarcely felt like he was standing inside a station at all, what passed for the ceiling so high above his head that he could barely make out the crisscrossing support beams and maintenance catwalks.
It was styled like a cramped street, too small for cars, almost like the city center of some old European town had been reimagined in an industrial style. Civilian quarters that resembled apartment blocks rose up towards the ceiling, connecting to it in some places, likely leading up to higher levels of the station.
In every nook and cranny – anywhere there was room – the denizens of the hab-ring had set up little stalls where they were hawking their wares to the tourists who had just boarded. Colorful awnings fluttered in the artificial breeze from the air recyclers, and insulated cables that had been patched from the station’s systems trailed along walls and floors, powering streetside food stands and colorful neon signs.
Speaking of the denizens, they came in all shapes and sizes. Darren had never seen so many varieties of alien in one place before. He could make out a few Shil and Rakiri, but most were unknown to him, the varied hues of their skin and clothes creating a bustling sea of color.
He checked the device on his wrist again, pulling up the coordinates that his new employer had forwarded to him. This was indeed Hab-Ring Five, and he’d been given what passed for an address in this strange environment. Hefting his bag once more, he made his way into the throng, having to dodge and weave between the towering aliens. Many of them barely seemed to register his presence, probably due to his comparatively small stature, though some seemed to stop and stare in confusion.
Well, I suppose Humans are pretty new on the galactic scene, he thought to himself.
The scents of strange, alien food assailed him as he navigated the cramped streets, a few of the criers singling him out. They had sharp instincts, he’d give them that. It seemed the locals could smell a tourist at thirty paces.
Maybe it was all the staring he was doing?
Eventually, he arrived at his destination, glancing up from his display to see a dingy bar. It was open to the street, built into an overhang at the base of one of the many buildings, little more than a long counter with a few stools. Above it was a blinking neon sign in a script that he couldn’t read. As he made his way inside and struggled up onto one of the tall stools, the small handful of patrons who were sitting off to his left paused their conversation to examine him.
They were Nighkru, their goat-like horns and the bruise-purple hue of their skin giving them away. Their silver eyes were striking, almost seeming to glow in the dim light of the bar, as reflective as those of a cat. Their clothing was all tight leather and straps, their skin strategically exposed in places to show off their stunning bioluminescent tattoos, the swirling patterns trailing down slender limbs and across toned midriffs.
He kept his gaze aimed forward, knowing that their kind didn’t think much of the Imperium to which he now belonged.
…Then again, that was true for pretty much every race that wasn’t a part of the massive interstellar empire. Say what you would about the Purps, but they knew how to make an impression.
The bartender walked over to him, leaning on the counter as she looked him up and down skeptically. It was another Rakiri like the dockworkers, her feline nose twitching as she took in his scent.
“You lost, or do you want something to drink?” she asked.
“No thank you, I’m waiting for someone,” he replied sheepishly as he lowered his eyes to his device again.
He was right on time, but as he looked around, there was no sign of his contact. He was supposed to meet them here, right?
The Rakiri shrugged her furry shoulders, then left him to his own devices, moving over to the small group of Nighkru.
Perhaps one of them was his contact?
He certainly hoped not. While he didn’t have anything against a person enjoying themselves with a good drink after hours, it wasn’t a good way to make a positive first impression on a prospective employee.
Fortunately for him, the surprise on one of the trio’s grey skinned faces when she happened to blearily peer in his direction dashed that possibility. Just a trio of young women out for a drink.
Unfortunately for him, after a few hastily whispered words to her friends, the group made their way over to him.
“Don’t see many males round these parts,” one of them said, her faux leather getup creaking as she planted her hands on the bar to his left. Another leaned on the counter to his right, the third posting up behind him.
“A Human, too,” the woman to his right added with a sly chuckle. “Now, what’s a Human doing all alone out on the Periphery?”
“I didn’t think the Purps were letting their pets off the leash.” the one behind him snickered.
“I don’t know,” the first said with an exaggerated shrug. “Maybe he snuck out in search of a real woman? I think we’ve all heard how Humans can be.”
That set the three of them laughing.
All the while, Darren wasn’t sure where to look, turning his head left and right as he struggled to pick a Nighkru. He settled on the woman to his left, having to lift his head to meet her gaze, those reflective eyes shining like a pair of silver coins.
“I...uh...was actually supposed to be meeting someone here.” he stammered, a little of his anxiety bleeding through.
The Nighkru gave him a warm smile that wasn’t reflected in her eyes, leaning a little closer. He tried to pull away reflexively but found another Nighkru waiting for him, something rather soft pressing against his back.
“Well, I don’t see anyone else in here but me and my friends,” one of them said as she tutted dramatically. “Maybe they stood you up?”
“Poor form, that,” the one behind him whispered into his ear. He lurched in his seat, surprised by her proximity. “Leaving a pretty young thing like you hanging.”
The first one nodded, as if that was a piece of sagely wisdom. “I know – how about my friends and I give you a personal tour of the station to make up for it?” she asked, reaching out to brush a piece of errant fluff from his collar. “We’ll even carry your luggage for you – we’re nice like that.”
She signaled to one of her compatriots with a curt nod, who then plucked his travel bag off the deck.
“Oh, that’s really not-”
He tried to stand, but he was cut off as two of the women placed their hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down into his seat. Their touch was gentle, but firm, letting him know that he wasn't going anywhere.
Darren looked to the Rakiri bartender for help, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the turn of events, but she was staying out of it. She was feigning disinterest, cleaning a glass with a rag that didn’t look clean enough for the job.
It was clear that he wouldn’t be getting any help from her.
Was this really going to be his first experience on the station – kidnapped by a gang of alien grifters?
Just as he was getting ready to – likely ineffectually – start swinging like his life depended on it, he heard a voice ring out in a language he didn’t recognize.
The Nighkru turned their heads as one, and he followed their gaze, seeing another of their kind step in from the street. Her skin had the same twilight hue, her silvery hair pulled back into a long ponytail that trailed behind her as she strode towards them. She wore a jet-black body suit that left little to the imagination, so tight that it might have been sewn onto her, the garment open at the front to expose a chiseled midriff and the beginnings of her cleavage. Her eyes were mesmerizing, his gaze drawn to the glowing tattoos that served to accentuate them.
Oddly, unlike the trio surrounding him, she had no horns.
The stranger walked with purpose, her heels clicking on the deck, her hair swishing behind her as she came to a stop to stare down the three other women. They were already backing off, the Nighkru who had taken his bag setting it back down gingerly beside his seat. Did they know this person? They seemed so wary of her.
“Maybe we’ll see you around,” one of them whispered, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment before she followed her friends out into the street.
Once they were finally out of sight, Darren breathed a sigh of relief and turned to thank the newcomer. Before he could utter so much as a word, she beat him to the punch.
“You shouldn’t wander around Halfpoint alone,” she said, skipping the preamble. Her voice had a melodic tone, one that was almost musical to Darren’s ears. She planted her hands on her hips, scrutinizing him with a skeptical expression. “You’re just asking for trouble.”
“I’m just...waiting for someone,” he replied. “Thank you, by the way. I’m-”
“Do you have a weapon on you?” she asked, cutting him off. “A handgun under that jacket? Defense spray? A pocket knife?”
“What? No,” he replied, his brow furrowing. “Why would I have a gun?”
Even with a few inches of titanium-alloy plating between everyone aboard and a messy death by explosive decompression, using a firearm on the station seemed risky.
She snorted derisively, almost as though she couldn’t believe his reply.
“For your sake, I hope that whoever you’re waiting for is smarter than you are,” she said with a roll of her silver eyes. “This isn’t Earth, boy. There are no Shil Marines around to babysit you. Next time you want to play tourist, go somewhere closer to home.”
With a flick of her long hair, she turned about, vanishing into the crowd once more to leave him sitting at the bar in confusion.
Darren felt another hand on his shoulder and turned to see an Edixi wearing grease-stained overalls standing behind him. The tool belt that hung loosely about her hips let him know that she was a mechanic before she’d even had time to open her mouth.
Her kind were evolved for an aquatic environment, and although they were fully amphibious, they retained many of their ancient features. Their bodies were smooth and streamlined, with lean, lightly-muscled frames that made them look like Olympic swimmers. Her eyes were a striking ocean-green, and her azure skin was patterned with faded tiger stripes, darkening as it neared her extremities.
“You’re the new engineer, right?” she chirped excitedly.
“Darren Fogle, pleased to meet you,” he confirmed as he extended a hand. She took it, shaking it eagerly, and he noted that her fingers were webbed.
He was a little surprised by how smooth her skin was. Given the sharklike appearance of the Edixi – and her vocation – he’d expected it to be rough and scaly. Maybe cold and slimy, too. By contrast, it was warm and soft, her small scales smooth like a snake’s rather than sharp like those of a fish.
Odd.
“Oh, it is. It very much is. The boss told me to fetch you,” she said before turning back towards the street. “Don’t get lost, you hear? There are some rough types around these parts.”
Yes, she could say that again. He stooped to pick up his bag, then hurried after her, trying not to lose sight of her in the crowd. He also belatedly realized that she hadn’t told him her own name.
Was that an Edixi thing or was she just in a hurry?
The mechanic led him through the streets, which seemed to be arranged in a kind of grid pattern, always flanked by the towering hab-blocks. It was as challenging as ever to navigate when so many of the station’s inhabitants stood a head taller than him. It made him feel like a bug that was trying to avoid being stepped on.
He could only assume he’d get used to it. His guide seemed to have no problem getting around, and she was a few inches shorter than him.
Their destination was some kind of service elevator – a large platform that seemed designed to carry heavy cargo up from the docks, wide enough that a couple of trucks could have parked on it side by side. There were still a few cargo containers stacked off to one side that hadn’t been unloaded yet.
He watched as the woman hit a touch panel beside the double doors, and they began to slide shut, the platform lurching as Darren felt it start to rise. There was no grinding of machinery, no vibrations, only a sensation of getting heavier. It was obviously gravity-manipulation tech. It wasn’t too surprising – the Shil seemed to use it for just about everything, so it wasn’t too strange that the rest of the universe did as well.
Convergent technological development, he could almost imagine his Shil instructor saying as they started to descend. Good tech is good tech.
The hab-ring’s many levels flashed by one by one, until finally, the elevator slid to a smooth stop. Darren followed the happily humming mechanic out into a garage, his eyes lighting up as he took in his new surroundings.
Were those… mecha?
The bay’s walls were lined with bulky harnesses that were obviously designed to hold the machines in place, a few of the berths already occupied by half-disassembled vehicles.
They were!
“Real life mecha,” he mumbled.
As a mechanic, he wasn’t ignorant of the genre. After all, what kind of engineer didn’t hold a soft spot for giant stompy robots? Of course, as an engineer, he also held an inherent disdain for anyone that actually thought said machines were even remotely practical outside of the realm of fiction.
The Square Cube Law was a harsh mistress.
The long and short of it was that if you doubled a machine's height while keeping it the same shape, you ended up with four times the muscle power moving eight times the mass. As a result, instead of having the same relative agility as the original, the double-sized machine actually had only half.
That was why ants could lift so much relative to their weight. If you scaled one up, you’d end up with a much less impressive power to weight ration.
And, the problem only got worse the bigger you went. Giant robots would be slow, cumbersome, and they would inevitably suffer from exploding ankles if they tried to move too fast. They’d also sink in just about any terrain that was even slightly porous.
All in all, mecha were a cool concept with absolutely zero real world applications.
Which was why he was so stunned to see some in real life. Sure, the Shil military liked to use exos, but they were really just power armor by any other name with thrusters attached. Besides, the only reason those things could skip around like they did was because they had anti-grav generators…
His thoughts trailed off as an idea occurred to him. He jogged over to the nearest machine, peering up at the twenty-foot humanoid monstrosity. Its legs had been detached, leaving only a bulky torso covered in half-stripped sensory equipment, lenses and scanners visible where their protective covers had been removed. The cockpit was open, revealing the pilot’s seat, along with the surrounding neural interface cables that hung loose like the entrails of some mechanical beast. Its weapon attachments were empty, but it was nonetheless an awe-inspiring sight.
Sure enough, there were two oversized humps on the back. One was clearly for the thing’s fusion engine – and the other must have held the anti-grav generator.
“Darren?” the mechanic asked, having only just realized that he wasn’t behind her. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Y-yeah,” he said, jogging for a few paces to catch up. “That’s a mecha!”
The blue-hued alien nodded slowly. “Yes?”
“A mecha,” he reiterated.
Which prompted another slow nod. “You’ve never seen a gladiator mech before?”
“No.”
“Didn’t they tell you what job you’d be doing?” the mechanic asked, cocking her head in a rather adorable manner.
“No?” This time it was his turn to cock his head.
Several emotions seemed to fly across the alien’s face. He saw surprise, confusion, and dismay before she finally settled on irritation.
“Typical,” she grunted. “Just… follow me.”
AN: https://youtu.be/a3Xp1WhRQ9Q