Note: If you're a long-time reader, I decided to retcon the name of the official language of Nusantara to "Bahasa" instead of "Neo-Malay." If you're new, hi.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Vani, venlil foreign exchange participant
Date [Standardized Human Reckoning]: 2136–09-18
Upon telling her our concern. Snop suggested that we talk to her acquaintance named Mowww Daywant in Surabaya who made a name for himself in the community as a cooling vest producer. She put us in touch with the tiger furry, who was excited to design a vest for me and he asked permission to get the model of my body from Snop.
Since Surabaya also hosted one of the twelve universities on the list we decided it would be our destination for my weekly checkup too.
Johan and I took our time on our trip to Surabaya, making stops to explore the sights along the way. The day after my assessment, we visited the Prambanan Temple. As usual, as soon as we got near the fenced temple complex, an eager tour guide approached us, offering to explain the history and significance of the temple. She explained that Prambanan is a Hindu temple and the second-largest Hindu temple complex on the planet, after Angkor Wat in Cambodia. The complex comprised six inner temples surrounded by two hundred smaller ones. Due to neglect, many of the smaller temples had fallen into ruin over the years, but one had been reconstructed to give visitors a glimpse of what it looked like in its original state.
The tour guide mentioned that her Hinduism is not the same as the one practiced in the temple back when it was erected.
"So there are different kinds of Hinduism?"
"That's true for pretty much any religion on Earth? Don't your religions have denominations too?" Johan asked.
"Not in the homeworld, but I suppose perhaps there are religions in the rest of the Federation who do have variations like that."
Moving forward on our way to Surabaya, my human decided to take a detour to a couple of caves. In my homeworld, caves are considered dangerous due to their darkness. With little use for them, we explore them using drones. However, humans see caves differently and they explore caves not only for research but also for the enjoyment it provides to them. Our first stop was the Gong Cave, where a well-maintained walking path had been installed in the cave. It allowed us to stroll inside and gaze at the geological features. Various colored lights had been set to highlight the rock formations.
Next, we visited the Tabuhan Cave, whose extraordinary stalactites and stalagmites had been turned into lithophones. When we entered the cave, we were treated to a beautiful percussive symphony created by striking the rocks. The sound made by a band of humans echoed through the cave, and it was hard to believe that these sounds were coming from natural formations.
Johan and I also made significant progress in our language learning. Being the fragmented species they are, humans have developed several writing systems, and one system, in particular, is used in many languages. He explained that sometimes, a group of people would adopt a neighboring writing system of their own will, but often what happened was that the writing systems of the colonizer were imposed on the colonized such as in the case of Bahasa. Perhaps because they were introduced much later, while English orthography is a complicated mess, Bahasa has a regular orthography.
After my overheating incident a week ago, Johan was cautious about the intensity of my exercises until we got the cooling vest that Snop's acquaintance could provide. He researched various exercises that would help me build my muscles without putting too much strain on my body. I no longer tire as I did when I first arrived on Earth. I could match the stamina of humans, but I was still susceptible to hyperthermia.
Speaking of heat, the other kind of heat I experienced dissipated a few days ago. Although my biological quirks no longer distracted me, I found that I could still be coaxed well out of my schedule, which was a welcome discovery for us. We hypothesized that it might be the result of something in human food or perhaps the presence of pheromones emitted by humans (i.e. Johan). I would not need to disclose this during my weekly checkup unless it led to any issues with my quality of life.
Right before reaching Surabaya, we visited the ancient city of Trowulan where the capital of an old empire used to reside. Instead of being made out of stone like the temples we have visited, everything there was made out of clay brick. The ruins of the once imperial capital were spread out over a vast area, with remnants of buildings, palaces, and temples all around. As usual, a tour guide jumped upon us and took us around to explain the history and significance of structures that survived the ravage of time. We even stumbled upon an old market square, where vendors once sold their wares to the people of the empire.
Walking through the city, I wondered how my ancestors lived and what their civilizations might have been like.
I could tell that we reached Surabaya when we passed a large gate saying "Welcome to Surabaya". I have switched my visual translator to the annotation mode to better learn the language. This way, I could see the translation of any human text alongside the original, helping me to better understand their language. Surabaya is the second largest city in Java and it felt like a little sibling to Jakarta. Despite its smaller size, its skyline was also adorned with tall glass towers just like in Jakarta, there are parts of the city that still maintain their colonial-era architecture.
When we approached Mowww Daywant's apartment building, I noticed that the surrounding buildings were sleek and the streets were spotless. I can surmise that this was a posh part of the city, reserved for the wealthy. Stepping into the building's lobby, I could see that the humans there were wearing neat fabric, unlike Johan's shabby ones. On our way to Mowww's flat, we encountered several indoor waterfalls pouring into a human-made canal which then cascade to an even lower floor. I have never seen such a feature in a building before.
After Johan pressed the bell in front of Mowww's apartment a long, muffled howling came out from behind the door.
"Oh, man..." Johan sighed. "He has a dog.
I know dogs. I have seen dogs before when we were outside. They can be seen almost always leashed with a human holding the other end of the rope.
When I delved deeper into my research on Earth's history, I discovered that humans and dogs had a much longer and deeper relationship. Humans met the wolves, ancestors of the dogs', tens of thousands of years before they settled and began agriculture. That means they used to hunt together with the wolves assisting in tracking and fetching prey while the humans provided food and shelter in return. Nowadays, dogs are utilized for things other than hunting. Some are trained to perform tasks such as guiding those with sight problems, detecting medical conditions, or providing security. Others serve as emotional support animals, providing comfort and companionship to their owners.
The door slid open. A human with whiskers above their lips greeted us. Their mane is trimmed on the side but kept long on top.
"I need to let you know that I have a dog with me right now. She's in a locked crate though."
"How do you think she'll react if she sees Vani?" Johan asked.
"I think she's pretty mellow?" The human looked back and then returned his gaze to us.
"Can I see the dog?" I wondered what kind of dog was inside that flat. In public, the few times I saw a dog, its owner always tugged on their leash and forced the beast to walk away from me and Johan.
"Okay, if she shows any sort of aggression toward Vani, we can go down to the lobby." Said Mowww.
The human let us into his flat and when I entered the temperature dropped much lower than the usual temperature of a human's building interior. The air was cool and crisp, almost resembling the temperature of a morgue. Once inside, we were greeted by an intense-looking living room. The walls were painted in the color of blood and a sculpture of a rotund tiger lay on the glass table in the middle. In one corner of the room, I spotted a large cage with the fluffiest thing ever lying down inside.
The beast's long thick fur hid its features, making it look like a soft, white capsule with four legs and a snout sticking out. As soon as it sensed our presence, the fluff beast stood up and stared at me, its tongue falling out of its mouth, panting.
"Is it smiling at me? It looks like it is smiling." The beast's beady eyes stared at me. The fluff beast was nothing like the ferocious-looking wolves I saw in the human network. It was fascinating but also terrifying that humans have modified an apex predator into something that looked like a giant doll.
"Oh, this breed of dog used to live in the arctic region. They have an upturned mouth like that to prevent saliva from pooling and freezing."
The beast approached the edge of the crate and its nose, wet and glistening, poked out through the metal bars, twitching as it sniffed in my direction.
"Isn't that a samoyed?" Johan asked. "Why are you keeping a dog like that in Surabaya of all places?"
"She's my friend's furbaby and they live in Batu where the climate is more suitable for her. Right now their household is going to Convention in Taipei for a while."
"You're not going there too?" Johan asked.
"I'm... recovering my finance after a weeklong trip to Fiesta de Furros a month back." He said, looking a bit embarrassed.
The fluffy dog pawed on the cage lock. "Is it safe to let her out?" I asked.
"I think so? She doesn't look aggressive toward you."
I slid the lock of the cage and before both humans can react, the fluff beast came out with a bang, running at lightning speed around the living room. Her claws made a tapping sound against the floor as they frolicked around. It disappeared behind the kitchen and I heard a high-pitched squeak not long after. A few moments later, she came back with a tiger-shaped object in her mouth. Her curved tail looked more like a mound behind her back that vibrated as she approached me. She dropped the toy in front of me before coming closer to sniff me.
"I can't believe you just did that!" Johan said. "That could've gone wrong in all sorts of ways!"
The dog went around and nudged me from behind, making me step on the plaything it had deposited. Hearing the high-pitched sound, the fluffy white beast lifted its head and let out a long, piercing howl that filled the room. The sound was both beautiful and haunting at the same time, sending shivers down my spine.
"Mofu, stop," Mowww commanded.
As if it understood the human's command, the dog stopped emitting the noise and began sniffing around my feet. It then picked up the toy again and bumped my paw with its snout. Thinking that it tried to make me take the toy, I grabbed the tiger doll. As soon as I pulled the object from its mouth, the dog released its bite. It stared at me and it didn't take long before the tongue came out again.
"She wants you to throw the toy," said Mowww, smiling at Mofu's antics.
I threw the toy towards the couch and watched as Mofu chased after it, her fluffy fur bouncing with every step. It hopped up onto the couch and picked up the toy with its mouth. The beast then curled into a giant furball.
The fluff beast's behavior made me consider that… perhaps sapience is a spectrum. The dog's behavior seemed to show an understanding of people, something that I did not expect from a non-sapient animal.
"Yeah, Mofu is a couch potato. You need to convince her to go for a walkies. Well... you're lucky the good girl likes you. Now, wait here."
Mowww disappeared into his room, before emerging with a vest in hand. The vest looked almost identical to the one that Beer had worn back in Jakarta, but this one seemed to be tailor-made for someone of my proportions. As Mowww helped me put on the vest, Johan was lounging on the couch absent-mindedly stroking Mofu. The beast seemed to take a liking to Johan because she uncurled and plopped herself onto his lap before curling into a fluff ball again. Johan chuckled, continuing to pet the dog as Mowww made some final adjustments to the vest.
"Right now I use the twenty degrees mix. But I'll give you the fifteen degrees too."
The vest felt cool against my body and I could not wait to try exercising with this.
Mowww insisted on hosting us for the rest of the day. The furry brewed some tea and brought out some snacks while I attended my class and Johan did his work.
When we sat together to eat, Mowww told us about his work in the field of astronautics, an area that had been impacted positively by the first contact between our species. He spoke with pride about the innovative designs that he had been testing thanks to the wealth of knowledge and ideas that had been exchanged between our species. Once we finished our meal, Mowww took us to his home office where he showed us some of his current projects. He also had various models of human spacecraft from the past and he explained them like a tour guide in a mini museum.
The furry even showed us a few of his recent designs that were approved for public view.
When our day neared its end, Mowww mentioned that he was expecting the arrival of his friend from the Republic of China, who was the actual owner of the fluff beast. He invited us to join him at the airport to greet his friend and exchange dogs. It was Johan's turn to extend hospitality and after some convincing, Mowww agreed to go to the airport in Johan's van. We piled into the vehicle with the fluff beast sitting beside me.
On our way to the airport, I tried to stroke the creature's back and this made the beast lay on my lap. The dog seemed content to trap me there, sometimes nuzzling my hand for more pets when I stopped. Somehow petting the soft predator felt therapeutic. Halfway, when I stopped and it did not react I realized that the beast had fallen asleep.
In the airport, it didn't take us long to see Mofu's owner. Mowww waved to a group of people with suitcases piled high on a couple of trolleys. Upon seeing its owner, the fluff beast darted away, snatching the leash from Mowww's hand, the dog jumped and tried to jab the humans with its snout, and the humans kneeled, with one of them trying to hug the beast. They laughed when the dog fell on the floor and presented its belly. When one of the humans rubbed that particular anatomy the tongue came out again.
Is this the power of domestication? The wolf looked like an actual predator, but the white fluffy thing that was being tickled by its owners looked more like a mockery of a wolf in the same way the humans themselves are a mockery of predators.
I wonder if the humans, on another timeline, would be able to domesticate the arxur.
After a few minutes of fussing over the dog and exchanging gifts, we said our goodbyes ready for the next day.
Today we came to the university of the week. When I consulted the map, it was clear that our destination, Airlangga University, is an educational institution geared toward medicine and public health. The university's sprawling campus was divided into two distinct sections: the north and south areas, each with its own set of dedicated buildings and resources. Nestled between the north and south sections of the campus lies an impressive hospital complex, which serves as both a practical training ground for students and a fully-functioning medical center for the local city.
Just like Gajah Mada university, Airlangga University is named after a monarch who lived eleven hundred years ago. I was not surprised to learn that his name means "Jumping Water". The monarch was born on another island and "Jumping Water" is an allusion to him sailing from his birthplace to the island of Java.
The faculty of medicine comprises several buildings, and I would go to the department of surgery as usual. In the lab, a professor named Nurhayat greeted me. We went through the procedure of wearing a suit just like in Gajah Mada, and afterward, he whisked me to a familiar-looking lab with four tables. When I approached the table, I could feel my heart racing with anticipation. I had been studying and practicing appendectomy through laparoscopy for a week, but performing it in real space is a whole different story.
Professor Nurhayat explained what I would need to prepare for and I listened, trying to commit every detail to memory. Laparoscopy, it seemed, was similar to remote surgery back on my Homeworld. I would be controlling a small device while looking through a camera, which would allow me to see the surgical area. It was a challenging task, as I had to be careful about how deep I inserted the instrument through the small hole in the dummy.
I felt like I was making a lot of tiny missteps during the procedure because, unlike the appendectomy practice in Yogyakarta, Professor Nurhayat kept offering advice and guidance as I navigated the device through the dummy. In the end, the professor overseeing my laparoscopy assessment nodded with approval, but I could sense that it was just a passable performance. I feel disappointed, considering how much effort I have been putting into studying the procedure. Since I have never practiced remote surgery back in my homeworld, laparoscopy on Earth posed some challenges.
After the assessment, I felt mentally and physically drained. My paws ached from having to maintain a steady position for a prolonged amount of time.
Walking out of the building, Johan patted my back. "You did great, Vani. Don't be too hard on yourself."
He reminded me that this was just the beginning of my studies and I still had a whole semester ahead of me to practice and learn.
The student overseeing my sample gathering said the same thing about exercising and decreasing my intake so I told them that I have begun doing the exercise, which they put into their note. Looking at my test result so far, I think it can be said with good confidence that a venlil can thrive on earth. After the next weekly check, the student said that we will decrease the frequency to monthly medical checks instead.
It did not free us up that much, since the assessment with an educational practitioner would still take place once a week.
Since we had to deliver the fluff best to its owners, we could not try the cooling vest that Mowww had made for me. But we made sure to set aside time today. The vest had been kept in a mini fridge in Johan's van to ensure the maximum cooling effect. Once I had the vest on, I could feel the difference right away. It helped me maintain a comfortable body temperature and increased my endurance up to a human level. Mowww had also given me a vest with a water pump. This method did not cool as much as the one with the temperature-constant polymer, but it can go on and on for two days before the battery need to be replaced. Perhaps this will be useful too one day.
All in all, despite the setback in the assessment, I am thankful for the humans and their willingness to help me adapt to this strange world.

Team Fortress 2 is a team-based multiplayer first-person shooter developed by Valve Software as part of the game bundle The Orange Box. It was first released for Microsoft Windows and Xbox 360 on October 10, 2007. A PlayStation 3 version then followed on November 22, 2007. Following suit, it was released as a standalone title on April 9, 2008, and on June 10, 2010, Team Fortress 2 was released for Mac OS X. The PC and OS X versions of Team Fortress 2 adopted a "Free to Play" model on June 23, 2011, with all revenue being generated from microtransactions in the in-game Store. After several months of closed beta, Team Fortress 2 was finally released for Linux operating systems on February 14, 2013.
The game was first announced in 1998 as a sequel to the original Team Fortress mod for Quake (a first-person shooter video game, developed by id Software), but has since been through various concept and design periods. In 1999, the game appeared to be abandoning the art styles of the original Team Fortress Classic by transitioning toward a more realistic and militaristic style of gameplay. However, the design continued evolving over the game's nine-year development period and game engine switch. The final art style rendition of Team Fortress 2 resembles that of the original Team Fortress and Team Fortress Classic games, and also features a cartoon-like visual style based on the art of Dean Cornwell, J. C Leyendecker, and Norman Rockwell. Team Fortress 2 followed a popular trend in CGI films at the time, in particular, films made by Pixar, such as The Incredibles.
The absence of media information or apparent development progress for six years of the game's development caused it to be labeled as vaporware, and it was regularly featured in the Wired News' annual vaporware list, among gaming news outlets. Since its release, however, the game has received critical acclaim and several awards.
Like its predecessors, Team Fortress 2 is centered around two opposing teams competing for an objective. These two teams are meant to represent a demolition and a construction company as a part of the backstory: Reliable Excavation Demolition (RED) and Builders League United (BLU). Players can choose to play as one of nine classes in these teams, each with their unique strengths, weaknesses, abilities, and roles. Although the abilities of some classes have changed from earlier Team Fortress incarnations, the essential elements of each class have remained.
Team Fortress 2 is the first of Valve's multiplayer games to incorporate detailed statistics for players. These statistics include the time spent playing as each class, the average point score, and the most captures or objectives achieved in a single round. Persistent statistics tell the player how they are improving concerning these statistics, such as if a player comes close to their record for the damage inflicted in a round. Team Fortress 2 also features numerous achievements for carrying out certain tasks, such as scoring a certain number of kills or completing a round within a certain time. New sets of class-specific achievements were added in updates after the main release. These have added new abilities and weapons to each class once unlocked by the player. Unlocked achievements and statistics from previously played games are displayed on the player's Steam Community or Xbox LIVE profile page.

Maps

Main article: List of maps
On the PC and OS X versions of Team Fortress 2, the initial release only included six official Valve maps, with several dozen more being added to the game over the years by Valve and the Team Fortress 2 community. On the console versions, however, these original six maps, all released by Valve, are still the only maps available. The official maps are commonly themed with an evil genius or retro-spy tech mentality, with secret bases that are concealed within industrial warehouses, as well as exaggerated super weapons such as laser cannons and missile launch facilities taking the role of objectives. During Halloween (called Scream Fortress) and Christmas (called Smissmas), several new maps are enabled that often feature Halloween and Christmas/winter themes respectively.
When players joins certain maps for the first time, an introductory video shows them how to complete map objectives. Map player limits are 24 on the PC and OS X, although the player limit has been altered on some servers to reach as high as 32, while the player limit on the Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3 is 16.

Game modes

Main article: List of game modes
Team Fortress 2 shipped with three game modes: Capture the Flag, Control Point), and Territorial Control. Since the game's release, several new game modes have been added, such as Payload, Arena, and Mann vs. Machine. Several of these game modes feature both Valve-made and community-made maps. Several unused game modes have been discovered over the years.

Customization

Main article: Customization
Since the April 29, 2008 Patch, also known as the Gold Rush Update, the Loadout menu was introduced. This menu allowed the player to change their weapons and, with the introduction of cosmetic items in the Sniper vs. Spy Update, their cosmetic items (previously referred to as hats and miscellaneous items, or miscs) to change the appearance of their class.
In the Über Update, special taunts were added to the game as action slot items and were given their own loadout slot in the Love & War Update. Taunts allow players to perform certain animations, often used to taunt the enemy players after death. Some taunts are partner taunts, which allows two or more players to perform a taunt together (such as the Square Dance, which can be performed with one other player, and the Conga, which can be performed with many other players).
The Gun Mettle Update in 2015 introduced the Decorated quality, allowing players to customize the look of their weapons by applying different textures to them, later transitioning to the War Paint system with the Jungle Inferno Update in 2017.
Cosmetic items, taunts, and Decorated weapons can all feature special particle effects on them.

Development

Origins

Originally developed as a freeware mod for Quake, Team Fortress 2 switched to the GoldSrc engine in 1998 after the development team of Team Fortress Software – consisting of Robin Walker and John Cook - was first contracted and employed by Valve. At the time, Team Fortress 2 was called Valve's Team Fortress. At the point of Team Fortress Software's acquisition, production moved up a notch, and the game was promoted to a standalone, retail product to tide fans over since, as well as time issues, much of the Team Fortress player base had purchased Half-Life solely in anticipation of the free release of Team Fortress 2. Work began on a simple port of the game which was released in 1999 as the free Team Fortress Classic. Notably, Team Fortress Classic was built entirely within the publicly available GoldSrc Software Development Kit (SDK) as an example to the community and industry of its flexibility.
Walker and Cook were heavily influenced by their three-month contractual stint at Valve and began working full-time on their design, which was undergoing rapid metamorphosis. Team Fortress 2 was to be a modern war game, with a command hierarchy including a commander, with a bird's-eye view of the battlefield; parachute drops over enemy territory; networked voice communication; and numerous other innovations.
The new design was revealed to the public at the 1999 Electronic Entertainment Expo (E3) where it earned several awards including Best Online Game and Best Action Game. By this time Team Fortress 2 had gained a new subtitle, "Brotherhood of Arms", and the results of Walker and Cook working at Valve were becoming evident. Several new, and at the time, unprecedented technologies were on show: parametric animation; seamlessly blended animations for smoother, more life-like movement; and Intel's multi-resolution mesh technology dynamically reducing the detail of on-screen elements as they become more distant to improve performance (a technique made obsolete by decreasing memory costs, since today's games use a method known as level of detail, which employs more memory but less processing power. Team Fortress 2 has switched to this method as well). No release date was given at the exposition.
In mid-2000, Valve announced that Team Fortress 2's development had been delayed for a second time. They put the news down to development switching to an in-house, proprietary engine that is today known as the Source engine. It was at around this time that all news ran dry, and Team Fortress 2 entered its notorious six-year vaporware phase, which was to last until July 13, 2006. During that time, both Walker and Cook worked on various other Valve projects – Walker was project lead on Half-Life 2: Episode One and Cook became a Steam developer among other things – raising doubts that Team Fortress 2 was the active project that was being repeatedly described.

"Invasion" design

See also: Invasion
When the infamous Half-Life 2 source tree was leaked in late 2003, two Team Fortress 2 models were included along with the Team Fortress 2 source code – which was fully compilable. They consisted of an alien grunt and a very stylized, out-of-proportion human soldier. The code was interpreted by fans as making references to parts of the Half-Life backstory; however, the two leaked player models did not resemble any known style from the Half-Life series, leading many to think it was meant for Team Fortress 2.
The Source SDK was released with the Half-Life 2 source code, and also provided references to Team Fortress 2. Some code merely confirmed what was already believed, but other segments provided completely new information such as the presence of NPCs in multiplayer matches, the possibility of the game taking place in the Half-Life 2 universe, fixed plasma gun and missile launcher emplacements, and more.
None of the leaked information appears to have had any bearing on today's version of the game. This iteration was mentioned in an August 2007 interview with Gabe Newell by GameTrailers and a September 2010 interview with PC Gamer, in which he mentions "Invasion" as being the second phase of Team Fortress 2's development under Valve Software.

Final design

The next significant public development occurred in the run up to Half-Life 2's 2004 release: Valve's Director of Marketing Doug Lombardi claimed that Team Fortress 2 was still in development and that information concerning it would come after Half-Life 2's release. This did not happen, nor was any news released after Lombardi's similar claim during an early interview regarding Half-Life 2: Episode One. Near the time of Episode One's release, Gabe Newell again claimed that news on Team Fortress 2 would be forthcoming – and this time it was. Team Fortress 2 was unveiled again a month later at the July 2006 EA Summer Showcase event.
Walker revealed in March 2007 that Valve had quietly built "probably three to four different games" before settling on their final design. Due to the game's lengthy development cycle it was often mentioned alongside Duke Nukem Forever, another long-anticipated game that went through many years of protracted development and engine changes before being released.
The beta release of the game featured six multiplayer maps of which three contain optional commentary by the developers on game design, level design, character design, and provide more information on the history behind the development.
Team Fortress 2 does not attempt the realistic graphical approach used in other Valve games using the Source engine such as Half-Life 2, Day of Defeat: Source, and Counter-Strike: Source. Rather, it uses a more stylized, cartoon-like approach "heavily influenced by early 20th century commercial illustrations". The effect is achieved using a unique Valve in-house rendering and lighting technique making extensive use of 'Phong shading'. The development commentary in the game suggests that part of the reason for the cartoonish style was the difficulty in explaining the maps and characters in realistic terms. The removal of an emphasis on realistic settings allows these questions to be sidestepped. The game debuts with the Source engine's new dynamic lighting, shadowing, and soft particle technologies, among many other unannounced features, alongside Half-Life 2: Episode Two. Team Fortress 2 was also the first game to implement the Source engine's new Facial Animation 3 features.
The art style of the game was inspired by J. C. Leyendecker, as well as Dean Cornwell and Norman Rockwell. Their distinctive styles of sharp silhouettes and shading to draw attention to specific details were adapted to make the models distinct, with a focus on making the characters' team, class, and current weapon easily identifiable. Silhouettes and animation are used to make the class of a character apparent even at range, and a color scheme that draws attention to the chest area brings focus to the selected weapon.
Maps are designed with a neutral space between two bases. They are archetypal spy fortresses but disguised as inconspicuous buildings to give plausibility to their close proximities. The maps have little visual clutter and stylized, almost impressionistic modeling, to allow enemies to be spotted more easily. The impressionistic design approach also affects textures, which are based on photos that are filtered and improved by hand, giving them a tactile quality and giving Team Fortress 2 its distinct look. The bases are designed to let players immediately know where they are. The RED base uses warm colors, natural materials, and angular shapes, while the BLU base uses cool colors, industrial materials, and orthogonal shapes.

Release

During the July 2006 Electronic Arts press conference, Valve revealed that Team Fortress 2 would ship as the multiplayer component of Half-Life 2: Episode Two. A conference trailer demonstrated the game's new graphical style was featuring all of the original Team Fortress classes, pointed towards a more lighthearted and whimsical visual style as opposed to the dark, somewhat more traditional, a military simulation that had initially been shown. Newell said that their goal was to create "the best looking and best-playing class-based multiplayer game".
A beta for Team Fortress 2 was released via Steam on September 17, 2007, for customers who pre-purchased The Orange Box and for those who activated their "Black Box" coupon, which was included with ATI HD 2900XT Graphics cards. In addition to The Orange Box customers, LAN gaming centers using the 'Steam for Cafe' system had the game installed and ready to play.
Team Fortress 2 was released October 10, 2007, as both a standalone product via Steam and at retail stores as part of The Orange Box – a game bundle pack priced at each gaming platform's standard price. The package also contains Half-Life 2, Half-Life 2: Episode One, Half-Life 2: Episode Two. and Portal. Valve offered The Orange Box at a $5 discount for those who pre-purchased it via Steam before the October 10 release, as well as the opportunity to participate in the final beta test of Team Fortress 2. The game receives periodic, free updates that give the game new content, bug fixes, and additional features.
Team Fortress 2 became free-to-play on June 23rd, 2011 on Steam.

Critical reception

Team Fortress 2 was very well received by critics and consumers alike. Charles Onyett of IGN awarded Team Fortress 2 an 8.9/10 praising the quirky graphics and fun atmosphere, but criticizing the lack of extra content, like bots, as well as the removal of class-specific Grenades which were one of the defining features of the original Team Fortress. By contrast, PC Gamer UK praised Team Fortress 2 for removing the Grenade, continuing to compliment Valve Software for the unique nature of each of the game's characters. Despite some mild criticism over map navigation and the Medic class, PC Gamer UK awarded the game 94%. X-Play awarded The Orange Box with its highest rating (5/5) with nothing but good things to say about Team Fortress 2. Review aggregation site Metacritic ranks Team Fortress 2 as having received "universal acclaim", with an average critic review of 92%, based on 12 reviews by game critic sites, and a 9.6/10 rating based on user ratings. As of January 21, 2008, The Orange Box has a GameRankings score of 96.2% on the Xbox 360, making it tied for the highest ranked Xbox 360 game and a score of 96.2% on the PC.
Awards
Team Fortress 2 has won several awards since its release. In its "Best of 2007" awards, IGN.com honored the game with an award for "Best Artistic Design" for the PC. Additionally, Team Fortress 2 received awards for "Best Multiplayer Experience (PC)," and "Best Artistic Direction (PC)" from 1UP.com in its 2007 editorial awards. The game also won "Best Multiplayer Game of the Year" both on the PC and on any platform in GameSpy's 2007 Game of the Year awards along with an award for "Most Unique Art Style."

Promotional events

Main article: Promotional items
Over the years, Team Fortress 2 has collaborated with several different games, companies, and communities to feature special crossover content such as weapons and cosmetic items. Some of these events include having Team Fortress 2 content shipped to the associated game, such as featuring one of the mercenaries, maps, or other content.

External links

• The archived Team Fortress 2 page at the official site of The Orange Box.
• The Orange Box
• Valve Software official site.
• The Official Team Fortress 2 Blog
• The Team Fortress 2 Game Hub on Steam.

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​
niger

I just adopted a pit bull mix 2 weeks ago and now that she’s comfortable around us and the home, whenever we go on walks she pulls and starts to whine when she sees other dogs. I understand that there is a stigma around pit bulls so I try to keep her away from others on walks but we have another dog and cat in the home that she is completely fine with. She isn’t barking or acting angry so is this just an excited/curiosity thing?

First Part Start Previous Next

Journal Entry: 33. Date: 1/7/1. Name: Greg Geroge.

So apparently I'm in charge of combat reediness of the personnel on ship. Well, not like, ship-to-ship, but in case of repelling boarding actions or an away mission. Okay, okay. Well, that's a job I can do. There's a decent enough range in the armory, and I could run the grown ups through some tougher drills. It might ruin the reign of terror on the quarters deck by team toddler, though. Shame. Pops is pretty insistent that I actually carry out the duty, as if I would do anything else, but he's kicking himself for being lax in that area. Well, that's understandable. I just still want to be DI for the kids. It's fun. anyway, Master at Arms. An office. I don't know how I feel about this. I worked very, very hard to keep from being promoted out of my MOS, but here I'm just happy to have a useful job at all. Then again, I don't like giving orders. Training is different.
Shit, I need to think this over more.
It was a good mission. No casualties, no collateral casualties. Got all of the officers, and I doubt anybody will try to hurt my family again. Not after that. Fucking hard to hold back, but the dead don't learn lessons very well. Plus, I didn't have the time to really do it properly. Plus no drop pods, so scouting ahead wasn't really an option. Still, I'm post-mission down. Starting to go over all of our actions, all of my orders to see if I could have run it any better. I can hear Dr. Johan saying that it's perfectly normal, and is the brain's way of developing strategies to manage stressful situations. Thanks, internal therapist voice, that's always a good one.
This means I go quiet. Which freaks everybody out. Well shit. Now, I don't want to drive my family away like I did with the new brothers. At least there's not a fucking legend keeping us apart. But I had to have some chats. Like, mostly out loud chats to put everyone at ease, but also Linus needed a talking to.
No denying it Linus went through something pretty terrible. He did very well under pressure, very brave, very smart, all that kick-ass shit. It's still affected him. So, I had to have a chat with him about how he's viewing the events and himself. Not the kind of thing you should have to do with a five-year-old. Had to be done though. Don't want him to grow up like me.
In less depressing news, the Bleivuses have an actually competent justice system. It's adversarial and protects the rights of the accused, so they're being a lot more fair with the captured gangers than I would have been, but I'm a vengeful bastard. They did stick to my threat, though. Kind of. Bread isn't really an option for some of the races, but something called nutripaste is, which sounds like their version of CRAYONs. Good enough. The sheer numbers, not just from my planetside mission, but also the Bleivuses restoring order to the station, had them call in a ship full of Magistrates, and what basically amounts to SWAT and some highly disciplined patrol teams called a Justiciar. The dudes have a class of ship that's whole deal is law enforcement, which makes a lot of sense considering that they're all about ships and shit, but I kind of thouthg their system just sort of used station postings for that kind of thing. Nope, turns out when shit goes wrong it goes really wrong and they have a system in place for running a large number of criminal trials after something like this. Which is relevant because the leader of their SWAT dudes wants to debrief me. I'm actually kind of interested in meeting a Bleivus operator. Might even be kind of fun.
Still need to talk things over with Pops. I think... I think this is life after service. I need to talk to Sarge too. I was pretty harsh with him.
Am I still me without my MOS?

Log: 6000001.0.19, Personal, Captain Yormdrill

Things will be well.
Things are of course, better than they were, but all is clearly not well. My children have been traumatized, my crew injured, my ship marked for valor, yet things will be well. The crew has shown tremendous courage and dedication. Like the Lord Justiciar said, we had the right, but not the duty. However, how could we shirk in the face of such suffering? How could we let the good people of the station labor under the boots of murderers and thieves? We were not the only ship to be offered a mark, but Gregory's medal trapped me into accepting it. There were captains who were happy to have their ships marked. The rescue tugs with the most stars lived the shortest lives. I still remember how my uncle wept when his ship was decommissioned, and the sting of pain I still feel over what happened to the In the Endless Dark Life Finds Life. It isn't only my father and old friends I grieve.
Once again, Gregory is an immense help to the ship. His mere presence has buoyed the spirits of all the children, and many of the adults. Furthermore, he spoke with Yoivdrill about his experiences in a way I would have struggled with. I shall of course have to speak with him too, but Gregory opened the door, which I am grateful for. There were some surprising things in how he went about it. Imagine waking up like that! Stars, what an awful thing to contemplate. I suspect a more detailed telling is forthcoming, but we haven't had an opportunity to sit down for another quiet chat.
The Major of the Landers wants to debrief Gregory and me, which I have no opposition to. I'm hoping that we can get some information on the poacher, as clearly he had some connection to the local gang. Though gang is perhaps not the right word. Crime... crime family? Crime syndicate? Crime something. There's more work to do about them, but they had the bright idea of keeping literally all of their high value hostages in one location. The same location of their leadership. Which means that the planetwide coordination of the syndicate is in shambles, and local authorities are no longer under threat of important people losing loved ones. I expect the electronics seized will also have some information the public will find very edifying.
My anger has cooled somewhat, but the sight of the corrupt barrister who started this entire mess missing one of his arms was immensely satisfying. Stars know how that happened, but he deserves it.
Trevdi and I had a lot of stress to relieve. With all of this stress management, we might end up expecting another child soon.

Dear Diary,

Just because everyone is safe doesn't mean everything is okay. Greg let me listen in to his conversation with Yoiv, and it was...
I think I'll just write out what I remember:
"Hey Linus, may I come in?" he asked, and Yoiv must have signed yes, because he went into Yoiv's room and started, "You know you should talk, to work things out, but you don't want to talk about it. You feel a certain way, and you're hoping if you don't say it out loud it'll go away."
"How did you know that?"
"Well, I felt a lot like that when Ray died, I felt a lot like that. I felt like it was my fault, I felt it all the way down in my bones for years, and years. But I was a child, and the thing that attacked us had the strength of an adult. If I had fought, we would have both died. I know that in my head, with my mind, but I felt like it was my fault for running for so long that it still hurts."
"Oh..."
"So you're thinking about how you got kidnapped. You're thinking it's your fault that we had to go and fight."
"Yeah..."
"Well, If had never gone camping, I would have never gotten kidnapped in my sleep, would have never been rescued by the animal shelter, and never met you, and never lost control in the veterinary office, and never insulted a criminal lawyer, and thus he wouldn't have ordered you to be kidnapped. Is it my fault?"
"NO! THAT IS NOT ALLOWED!"
"Did you try to fight?"
"Yes."
"What did you do when they took you away?"
"I waited for the bad guys to stop looking and got away."
"And rescued a whole bunch of other kids."
"Yeah..."
"Which was very kind and brave of you. I wanted to tell you that I was very proud when I heard."
"Um... I just did what I thought you would do..."
"You helped us win. Knowing that will help, but the feelings you have... Sometimes I still feel like the bad things were my fault. I know that's not true, but I feel it anyway, and it hurts. I have a doctor... I had a doctor to help me with that kind of thing. He said that it's normal to have the feelings, that it's normal to hurt because of them, but it's not okay. Like it's normal to hurt when you fall down, but that doesn't mean you're okay. You follow?"
"I think so..."
"So, since you're hurt, you need to heal, but it's not like a bump on your knee that you can just put some medicine on, and you're scared to ask what to do because you don't know how to explain it."
"That's right!"
"For me, what helps is helping. If I can be useful to people, it makes the pain go away. Do you know how I found out?"
"... Did you figure it out with your doctor?"
"Yup. He's a lot smarter than me, so you'll need to talk to someone smart. Like Pops."
"I... ca-"
"You can try."
"I... I can try."
"Good," Greg said with a wide smile, "something else that helps is getting some exercise. You wanna find some grown-ups to shoot?"
They ran out of our quarters cackling. Sometimes I swear Greg is just an old kid.
Still, his talk with Yoiv has me thinking...
I'm thinking...

Dear Logary,

SnEAky said he is proud of me.
DaDDy said the same thing.
I do not think it was very special.
I was scared the whole time.
SNeAky said I should talk to DadDY.
I am scared DaDdY will be not proud anymore if I say how scared I am.
First Part Start Previous Next

It’s hard to argue against the claim that our decimal counting system comes from the fact that we have 10 fingers and toes, i.e., digits. Based on this human universal, ten seems to be the number of trade, of agreement on a standard measurement, the number of the meter, whether or not you’re wearing shoes, the number of numbers. Other counting systems coexisted with the decimal system, but they are all eventually superseded when civilizations grow and interact. Thus, while our digits appear to be the material cause of the decimal system, commerce and its universalization is the efficient cause. Pythagoras, who inherited and solidified the decimal system of the Greeks, who got it from the Babylonians (along with a base-60 system for time and other circles), seemed to give the decimal system a final cause, considering 10 a special number, since it was the sum of 1,2,3, and 4, each of which individually had some mystical significance (the unity, the dyad, the triad, the totality). Together these 10 points formed the tetractys, the fourth triangular figure. The 2:1, 3:2, and 4:3 ratios represent the octave, the fifth, and the fourth, respectively. Universal sonic concepts, in Pythagorean tuning. These ratios also represent universal visual concepts. For example, 2:3 is a stand-in for the Golden Ratio, which is approached by the successive members of the Fibonacci sequence: 1:2, 2:3, 3:5, 5:8 etc.) I stare at the tetractys and try to imagine a single property of 10 that makes it transcend the number of fingers we have to count on, and I draw a blank. Who cares if these originary numbers add up to 10? Does it have any further geometric or Platonic significance? Hard to say.
We may have 10 fingers on our hands, but we have 20 fingers and toes, and we have 12 finger joints on each hand, so we can count and even do manual base-12 arithmetic, counting up to 144, that we cannot do with base-10. Words like dozen and quatre-vingt and even eleven and twelve hint at a linguistic basis in other counting systems in early European society. Standards like the Roman-defined twelve inch foot, the Norman-defined 120 acre carucate, and the 5,280 foot mile (mille passus) represent compromises between varying counting systems—again extending at least back to the Babylonian—and the nature of things measured: how far a Roman can walk, how much a team of oxen can plow, the length of a barleycorn. To this day, grids on US maps are marked on 40 acre squares, or 1/3 of a carucate. These systems were gradually replaced from the High Middle Ages onward, when Arabs brought exotic goods, numerals, the concept of zero, and ancient Greek thoughts about the mystical perfection of 10.
At least by the 18th century, the inch itself had been divided into 16ths, or 2^4. This was apparently because 16, with 2 as its only prime factor, has non-repeating decimal equivalents, multiples of still-awkward .0625, as opposed to .083333… for 1/12 (1/12 would of course be .1 in base-12). While there is some intuitive sense in deriving smaller subdivisions of measurement by progressively halving your unit of length, this is obviously not the case with the meter, which is base-10 all the way down. There is no a priori geometric or arithmetic reason that halving a measurement is easier than equally subdividing it any other way. Pre-industrial artisans could construct just about any necessary ratios (or geometric shapes) using a compass and a straight edge. US framing squares still mark 12ths for measuring angles that match roof slopes, which are given in feet of rise over 12 feet of run. 12 feet divide neatly into 16” section or 24” sections, which is standard US spacing for studs, joists, and rafters, which fit neatly into the 4’x8’ sheets of plywood and drywall that get placed on the walls, and which must break evenly. Standard sheets of drywall in the metric system are, ironically, 1.2 x 2.4 meters, laid across supports spaced at 60 centimeters.
While 1, 2, 3, and 4 may add up to 10, they are all factors of 12. That is, a quarter and a third of twelve can be represented as whole numbers, not so with 10. Not counting 1 and itself, twelve has four factors: 2, 3, 4, and 6, while 10 only has 2 and 5. It may be argued that 10, basically having two and only two, prime factors, has some elegance, but I’m not sure what benefit that provides.
There are 12 edges on a cube and octahedron, 12 faces on a dodecahedron. 3,4, and 6 are the numbers of sides on the regular shapes that can nest infinitely. There are 12 lunar cycles in a solar cycle, twelve hours in a day. 12 is a lower “circular” number than 60, but shares some of its features, while still allowing memorizable multiplication tables. While there are other, non-Western tuning systems that do not divide the octave into 12 tones, they all maintain the concepts of the fourth and the fifth, and none of note that use 10 tones. It’s true that we have ten fingers and toes, and it’s true that the height of the Vitruvian man, in whose form the proportions of classical architecture are hidden, is 1/10 the length of his hand. But he is also 24 palms tall, and the width of his shoulders and length of his forearm and his femur are 1/4 of his height, while his shin is 1/6 of his height. His face is divided into thirds: bottom of chin to bottom of nose, height of nose, height of ears. 12, a more circular, more harmonic, more architectural system, re-presents our most human and most natural ratios rather than merely metaphorically representing them via addition as 10 did for Pythagoras.
When the Enlightenment converged with the Industrial Revolution, the French, of course, decided that everything had to be “rationalized”. Driven by their ideals, the ever-increasing standardization of units for trade, and the industrial technologies necessary to produce and be produced by these standardizations, they adopted the meter, meaning simply measure, originally as a fraction of the earth’s circumference. They also attempted to decimalize time. While maintaining the 12 months, they made 10-day weeks composing 30 day months, which they renamed to things that you only now hear about as adjectives in Marxist critiques (the Eighteenth Brumaire is November 9, The Thermidorean Reaction on 9 Thermidor or July 27). They also attempted to decimalize minutes and hours, etc., etc., it’s all so boring and predictable, and was all eventually abolished by Napoleon. Attempts to make the meter “geometric” again failed, since the Earth itself was not constant enough. Eventually it was calculated relative to a wavelength of a certain spectrum of light, which apparently still had too many sources for error, now it is calculated relative to the speed of light, itself relative to seconds, defined as the time it takes for a cesium atom to vibrate a certain number of times.
Despite geniuses like the Canadian (the Canadian mish-mash of US and Metric is really something, by the way) Simon Newcomb wanting the same thing for the US, including the foolish decimalization of time, our dogged hatred of everything French has in this case saved us from the form of rationalization, while still succumbing to its content. Or is it the other way around. We still use tape measures. We still work in 16ths of an inch. And US standards of length are defined as decimal representations of the meter. In a broader sense, all ratio and proportion have fallen to the number of standardization. When I call out 25 and 13/16s, I am sure that my coworker can reproduce that measurement with his own tape, though slight differences must still be compared and accounted for when doing fine carpentry work.
It seems obvious that a better rationalization for measurements would have been to switch over wholesale to a duodecimal/dozenal system of counting. Of course, this could never happen because not even the French could imagine it. There’s something stubborn in our digits, and what is stubborn is good to rest on for standardization. But what is good for standardization is not what is most human or natural, to the ear, to the eye, to build shelter, or to rest on. It’s apparently good for the precision needed for GPS, but for the vast number of everyday tasks, and even scientific tasks, it is not too useful, nor even scientific, only digital.
Consider the words of C.S. Peirce, who himself argued for decimalization and first proposed using wavelengths to standardize the meter:
> The non-scientific mind has the most ridiculous ideas of the precision of laboratory work, and would be much surprised to learn that, excepting electrical measurements, the bulk of it does not exceed the precision of an upholsterer who comes to measure a window for a pair of curtains.
Not sure what I’m trying to get at here.

People I'm currently staying with have been caring for stray cat family for almost a year now, and the family is now a size of about 8-12 (and pregnant again).
We've looked into the local TNR, but even if we trap and get them each neutered, rather than release, the TNR wants to enroll them into a shelter for adoption "if their temperament is suitable" (probably non-hostile).
The concern is breaking up the family, having them caged in a shelter(s) for however long, with some possibly getting euthanized if not adopted in time.
The people I'm staying with already have a dog that doesn't play nice with other animals, so they can't take the cats in even if they wanted to.
There's another local program that fixes strays at a reduced cost of about $50/60 (male/female) which we're considering doing for at least the 5ish girl cats, but the mother cat is very cautious (rarely even coming out of hiding except to eat sometimes; I have yet to see her, myself).
I also have my own one cat that keeps yowling at them that I'm not sure what to do about. I'm temporarily staying in a small guest house that would normally be reserved for the landlord's parents when they're in town.
Any insight on a solution would be greatly appreciated!

My BF and I are living in our family’s homes because we have an awful housing market. However, my BF’s family situation has gotten really bizarre recently which makes him want to move out. It’s mostly due to the bullying by his mother and little sister.
About my BF: We met in law school. He’s smart, sensible and hardworking. He’s wholesome and kind-hearted (and according to his friends/family, he’s always been this way). He studies hard to be a lawyer, volunteers around the community, coaches little kids, offers to fix people’s homes/cars (he’s a handyman and mechanic), pays for everything himself, and despite all this he still finds the time/energy to spoil me and his family with incredible thoughtful gifts or acts of service (he loves to cook, clean and fix things for people). As a result, he’s a really loveable, helpful and independent man!
About his little sister🚩: She’s the opposite. To be blunt, she’s selfish, inconsiderate, rude, and a materialistic attention-seeker. She steals my stuff, leaves mess everywhere, a high school dropout, no hobbies except drinking/sex, prone to screaming tantrums, and posts her butt on IG daily. She’s had a lot of problems (like unwanted pregnancies with unknown men, speeding tickets, falling for scams, etc) which her family pays for her.
I have two example events to explain what she’s like- my BF’s graduation party (finishing law school) and his birthday party. Both events she didn’t want to attend because she didn’t think they were important (wanting to see her friends instead) but I encouraged her to attend. But at these parties, whenever the attention went to my BF (like making a toast or giving him gifts), she starts causing a scene: crying about drama, bragging about her wild drunk stories, complaining about how difficult her retail job is and how frustrating it is to have another abortion, demanding people to take sexy photos of her, etc. I found this infuriating because his sister is always the focus (being the problematic child) and this distracts from the recognition he deserves for his hard work.
About his mother🚩: The mother is an enabler and “best friend” of the little sister. She loves spoiling her daughter and acts like "one of the girls” when her friends are around. She paid for her daughter’s entire lifestyle- her bedroom, the abortions and medical bills, the speeding fines, all her clothes/makeup/perfumes, etc. She prides herself in being the breadwinner of the family and often splurges it on her daughter. She has never financially contributed to her son (my BF), making him pay for everything since he turned 18.
The Major Problem 🚩🚩🚩: There had always been little red flags about his mothesister. But it really started to show last week when his parents were away for the week and my BF and I took care of the house. When his parents returned, his sister claimed all the credit for keeping the house clean and looking after the dog, even though she was actually out partying the entire week (only returning home occasionally when hungover, leaving trash/vomit/mess for my BF to clean). Their mother praised the little sister, but my BF tried to correct her claiming he did most of the work. They turned against him saying “if you really did the work, you would’ve said so”. His sister joined in scolding him.
Then this morning, we woke up and he immediately started doing chores (mowed the lawn, fed the dog, did the laundry, washed dishes) while his sister laid on the couch hungover, eating Doritos and burping away. Once he was done with the chores, he joined in helping me cook breakfast for everyone.
His mother entered and demanded he does the bathroom, ranting about how he’s lazy and never does any work around the house. He defends himself, saying he did the bathroom last week, but hadn’t been home since then because this week we went away for our 2-year anniversary and my birthday. His sister joined the bandwagon, saying “I bet you’ve never even cleaned the toilet! You need to do it! It’s a mess!” (she had gastro this week).
He was about to drop everything to clean the bathroom, but the task would take too long and we needed to pick up my mother from the hospital. He explained this to them and promised to do clean the bathroom when he gets back. They scoffed at him “ohhh ok! You think you’re sooo important!!” and continued to rant about how lazy he was. His mother huffed about how disappointed she is in having a son like him.
He leaves the room, to finish the laundry from this morning, I’m left in the kitchen finishing breakfast, cleaning, and putting their groceries away while his mother and sister continue shaming him. His mother even said “he’s so irresponsible, unlike his sister”. I was so confused. So I started listing the things I see him around the house, including the fact he cooks/cleans up after THEIR mess. But I also mentioned he does wonderful things for me and my family. Big mistake to mention that… his mother said she didn’t appreciate hearing that. “He shouldn’t be helping you!! His home and his responsibly is HERE, and that’s final!”
Stumped and feeling triggered, I packed our breakfast in takeaway containers and texted my mother that I’ll be a bit late, while he cleaned the bathroom. We drove away in silence, with his phone buzzing constantly- which was his sister bragging about how she just cleaned the toilet and how her brother is hopeless/lazy. Their mother responded with praise.
Now, we are sitting at my house in silence completely stumped. His sister just texted demanding an apology, especially one to their mother. My BF keeps telling me how ashamed he is that he let me see this happen- apparently it’s normal, he just walked away unbothered when they act out like that. But it was such a shock to me, they had only ever been on their best and generous behaviour around me. I can’t help but feel so sorry, frustrated and ANGRY that he endures that. Besides telling him to move out, I’m not sure how to help him, or what advice he needs.

Ruins of a Naked Poem~Punya Gautam
A wounded mountain ravaged by a landslide
a huddled hut aflame from a corporate trickster
a green paddy field upturned by relentless floods
a black statue bathed in warm blood
a rabid democracy
or stunts of a sleazy slut
What is the ugliest of all?
In any event a stark naked poem licks pinnacles of obscenity
a poem naked in the heart of a poet whose
ideas are thrashed to go hiding in the madhouses of illicit entertainments
a poet whose words are stolen second hand shoes from the Ratna Park pavements and the brutal shrines of faith.
Every now and then images leap up swirling into the fires of self immolation...
And now in the season of remarkable rumors, endlessly fertile in producing naked poems
a poet gets transported into a balloon and floats up in the sky,
a butcher king's canopy...
And as in a cursed fairy tale the regal poem trapped in the body of the balloon bursts....
Right there the royal poet wearing a cactus-garland of shining syllable of fake decorations also dies.
All day long the nation's regime cries phony tears in the memory of his great balloon poem
that lay languishing in its smelly crotch for decades
and in the end like a feral dog of a blind beggar died.

I recently started my 6 months of traveling in Greece, part of this plan has always been to do it together with a stray dog from here. 3 days ago, I adopted Persa, a 2-year old female who is very loving, curious, and happy to finally have a family.
We spent the first days in the beach house of my boyfriends parents, but since yesterday we started moving. However, I notice that the small things we accomplished with training the past days, have fully disappeared since we reached our new location. My plan was to change location every 2 to 3 days, but I start wondering if this is the best thing to do for her.
I do have the option to go back to the beach house and stay here until we have at least some basics under control but since it is my first time I'm not sure if the location is of influence on her training. So I would really like to hear your opinion on this! I want to give her the best I can.
Here is some information on Persa and my situation

We adopted a dog last February who was badly abused by her first owners. We've overcome a lot (fear of men, food insecurity, fear of doors) but the one thing we cant get past is her severe storm anxiety. At this point i feel like we've tried everything. At first we just tried soothing her but she couldn't relax. Music doesnt help and the thundershirt was a waste of money. if we put her in a central room she just runs out and she's busted through multiple cages resulting in injuries. Melatonin, hemp, and trazadone dont work no matter the dose given. We've even tried combining these things and nothing helps. Its to the point if theres a storm overnight she tramples me repeatedly in panic (shes 45 lbs so its freaking painful!) Its 5 am where I'm at and she woke me up jumping on my head to get to the top of the bed. I put her in our walk in closet (she has a bed in there) and went back into the bedroom. Then i heard a noise like metal tinking and ran into the closet to see that she was climbing onto the shelves! At this point i have no idea what to do. I'm scared shes going to hurt herself. The vet doesnt want to go any stronger than trazadone because it wont fix anything but we live in Alabama and storm season is long and loud. Sorry for the long post but I'm DESPERATE and will try anything!

This post was originally a reply to a question on one of my other posts here, but it really deserves its own more detailed post simply because even over 30 years later it just makes me and a lot of others go “Eeh? How did that actually happen?”
When it comes to sporting rivalries in Australia, Ford vs Holden is one of the longest. Today, it’s hard to believe with Ford no longer making cars in Australia and Holden no longer even existing but there was a time were what car Australians drove really mattered. Were you a Holden family with Monaro’s, Torana’s and Commodores or a Ford family with a Falcon in your driveway? It was one or the other. No in between. There are stories of Holden-driving fathers refusing to allow their daughters to date boys simply because their dads drove Fords. The battles were fought on every level: advertising, dealers and from the mid-1960’s on the racetrack. And that’s were our story kicks off…
It's 1967 and for the first time, an Australian-made car has won the Bathurst 500. A Ford Falcon XR driven by Harry Firth and Fred Gibson wins the race and Ford Australia are ecstatic. A phrase commonly used at the time is “Win on Sunday, sell on Monday.” Winning Bathurst was a big deal and Ford reaped the benefits with sales and foot traffic into their dealerships. Crucially it really hurt their main rivals Holden.
For 1968 Holden wanted revenge on the racetrack. They had a great car in which to get it too, the Monaro. There was however, a bit of a problem. You see Holden despite being proudly Australian was owned by General Motors and at the time, GM had a blanket ban on their manufacturers going motor racing.
Pretty much everyone within Holden wanted to go racing though, so the Holden heavies looked for a loophole that would get them on the Bathurst grid and they quickly found one. They realised that there was nothing to stop them giving some money to their dealers and telling the dealers to then give said money to an idependant race team and voila! You’ve got yourself an all-but-official factory race team that gets around the GM ban. The man at the head of this team is David McKay, Australia’s first touring car champion. He’s ready to take on Ford’s leader Harry Firth.
For the 1968 Bathurst 500, the Holden vs Ford battlelines are drawn. And Holden gets its revenge as Firth’s Ford’s flounder. Strangely though, it’s a privateer Monaro that takes the chequered flag first. McKay brings his factory-but-not-really-factory-just-in-case-Detroit-gets-wind-of-this Monaro’s home second, third and fifth. And then he made an error. He failed to protest against the winning Monaro that some alleged ran with an illegal brake system. Holden’s heavies weren’t happy at all. They were in it to win with their own cars not their customers. And then for McKay, things got worse.
After Bathurst, Holden and Ford would face off again in the 1968 London to Sydney Marathon, the most epic car race ever staged. Almost 100 teams from all over the world took part but Australia was only focused on Firth & McKay. They were evenly matched. 3 Falcons for Firth and 3 Monaro’s for McKay. And just like Bathurst, neither of them won.
But in the Ford vs Holden battle, Ford came out most definitely on top, finishing 3rd, 6th and 8th and taking the best performing team award for their troubles. McKay’s Monaro’s came home 12th, 14th and McKay’s lead car DNF’ed after rolling in the Australian outback. And that was the last straw for Holden. McKay had failed them.
Ford Australia meantime was going through a restructure. The restructure involved refreshing their racing team. And incredibly, that meant showing Harry Firth the door. Big Mistake. Huge. You’d think after his marathon efforts, Ford would be pretty chuffed, but they got rid of him. Holden pounced. Within a fortnight, Harry was a Holden man. All his mechanics and engineers went with him. This was the start of what became the Holden Dealer Team.
Despite nicking all of Ford’s mechanics and tech know-how, Firth failed to poach their drivers. That forced him to go searching for young talent. He eventually found Colin Bond a promising rally and circuit driver and then noticed a driver of a little blue Austin A30 that was giving almost every competitor a complete belting. His name? Peter Brock.
For Bathurst 1969, Firth did what McKay couldn’t: Deliver the Holden factory a Bathurst win. Bond won, Brock was third and just behind was Ford’s new lead driver. He was an ex-pat Canadian who looked like an angry maths teacher. His name? Allan Moffat. A rivalry had just started.
For 1970 & ’71, Moffat dominated the Bathurst enduro in the mighty GTHO Falcon but in 1972, Brock struck back for Holden. That win made him the golden boy of Australian motorsport. Brock wore the white hat: hippy-handsome, a great driver and a man of the people, driving the Australian car. Moffat wore the black hat: cranky, methodical, withdrawn and representing the American manufacturer.
For 1973 the ante was turned up. The Bathurst race went from imperial to metric. 500 miles became 1000 kilometres. The regulations changed from Improved Production (stock-standard production cars with minimal upgrades. Some were even road registered) to the more liberal Group C Touring Cars. Moffat cleaned up in ’73 but it wasn’t all doom and gloom for Holden when at the end of the year, Ford pulled the plug on its factory race team. From 1974 Moffat was forced to go it alone in his own team with only back-door support from Ford.
But Holden wasn’t without its troubles either. At the end of 1974, Brock had a blow-up with Firth and left the HDT. Some say Firth fired him. Others say Brock grew tired of Firth’s iron fist approach to running the team and dipped out.
In two years both the white knight and the black knight were out on their own. And yet…they excelled. Despite driving a shoestring budget Holden, Brock won Bathurst in 1975. Moffat was a constant front-runner. The back-door support from Ford helped. The Holden Dealer Team though remained THE Team. Firth still ran it efficiently and he still had Colin Bond. Like Brock though, Bond was growing tired of Firth. He was paid next to nothing for his driving and expected to be on spanner duty in the workshop. So when Allan Moffat made him an offer at the end of 1976, Colin accepted.
In 1977, to quote Moffat: “We blew the doors off Holden”. With the HDT now minus their two star drivers, Holden floundered on the track. Moffat’s Ford team was well-backed and well-organised and as a result, Moffat in Falcon #1 and Bond in Falcon #2 dominated the year. The crowning glory was their 1-2 formation finish at Bathurst. Ford got an insane amount of mileage out of it. Nearly 50 years later, it remains one of the most iconic images of Australian motorsport. At the end of the year an exasperated Holden official approached Moffat and in desperation asked: “What can we do to beat you?”
Moffat shrugged and replied “Simple. Re-employ Brock”
With Harry Firth retiring, that’s exactly what they did. For 1978, Brock was back as a driver for the HDT. Moffat’s honest reply to that Holden official came back to bite him in the clacker. With money from Ford drying up, Moffat began to flounder and Brock dominated for the next two years, culminating in the 1979 Bathurst 1000 were he won by a whopping 6 laps and broke the lap record on the final lap. What a show off.
But then right after that epic performance…Holden pulled the plug. They were done.
Brock however refused to give up. He assumed ownership of the team and over Christmas, embarked on a whistle-stop tour of the Holden dealerships offering them a deal. The deal he offered them was a tricked-up road-going Holden Commodore built by the HDT. Any Holden dealership who helped fund the race team got exclusive access to sell the road-going car. The campaign was a success. Over 100 dealerships signed up putting the ‘Dealer’ right back into the Holden Dealer Team and HDT Special Vehicles was born.
In the early 1980’s, the HDT lead by Brock was a juggernaut both on and off the racetrack. Bathurst victory after Bathurst victory and the road car business boomed. Initially, Holden were reluctant but seeing the demand, they supported the program. By 1981 the first HDT road cars were delivered to the clamouring dealers. As Brock’s number one lieutenant and teammate John Harvey put it “Demand was so high, we couldn’t make them quick enough!”
The Group C Touring Car era ended at the end of 1984 and the Holden Dealer Team looked every bit like champions. Multiple Bathurst and other race wins, a road car arm that was fast becoming a great Australian success story and the best and most popular driver in the country at the head of it.
What next?
For 1985, Australia adopted international Group A Touring Car regulations. With every touring car series all over the world running to these regulations, you could take a car all over the world and race it. Pretty cool right? Brock certainly thought so and started planning...
But before we get to the HDT takes on the world part, let’s back up a bit. At the back end of 1984, Peter Brock was absolutely knackered. On top of driving, running the race team, an unsuccessful Le Mans campaign and the road car division, he liked a drink and a smoke or ten. Heck the HDT’s main sponsor was Marlboro. There were rumours he was really, really crook.
Ultimately, Brock found a chiropractor called Eric Dowker who got him back into shape. Dowker also got him off the grog and the cigs and even got him to go vegan.
For 1985, Peter Brock rolled out ready for the Group A era. He was in much better health by now thanks to Dowker’s interesting therapy (we’ll get to that in a minute). Mobil replaced Marlboro as the main sponsor on the race cars and Brock set about plans to take on the world.
First thing he needed to do was to sell enough road going HDT cars to satisfy the Group A rules. Once he had done that, the race Holden could be based off the HDT road car with all the tricked-up bits on it. By the end of 1985, he had done just that.
1986 was going to be a big year for the HDT. Their new car was ready to take on not just Australia but also Europe. Brock was looking ahead to 1987 and the World Touring Car Championship that going to take place. As well as his regular Australian campaign he was going to take the HDT to Europe for a partial campaign in the European series as ‘dress rehearsal’ for the WTCC a year later.
And then Brock did something unthinkable. He invited Allan Moffat to morning tea at his workshop. At the time, Moffat was unemployed. After his Ford support dried up, he became a Mazda man which didn’t make him more popular. In fact it made him less popular. Signs that read ‘no Jap-Crap’ were prominent around Australian racetracks in the early 80’s. He had delivered them a reasonable amount of success but when the Group A era started, Mazda didn’t have a car that would fit the regulations. Moffat was out of a job when the phone rang with Brock’s morning tea invite.
According to Moffat “Morning tea turned into long lunch, long lunch became afternoon tea and I drove home in a HDT Commodore, my new company car.”
All of Australian motorsport chocked on their breakfast when they read the headline ‘Moffat joins HDT’. Superman had just hired Lex Luther. “What the actual f**k?” said literally everyone.
With everyone still in shock, Brock & Moffat started off 1986 with a win in New Zealand, their first race as teammates. They both looked at each other after the race and almost simultaneously asked “Why didn’t we do this a decade earlier?” And then everyone got it. The best driver in Australia had hired the second-best driver in Australia. A pretty good duo to take on the world, yeah?
The first half of 1986 was a busy one for the HDT. The Australian championship, the partial European campaign that culminated in the Spa 24 Hour in Belgium and the ever-expanding road car business, Peter Brock was a man who looked to have it made. As Moffat put it, “Peter was well on his way to becoming a millionaire while the rest of us were just journeymen”.
And then…
Then came the Energy Polariser.
This is when things turn to sh*t.
As I said Eric Dowker was a key part of Brock’s life. Along with going smoke and grog-free, part of his treatments involved crystals and all sorts of stuff that would be considered “New Age”. Noticing how well it had worked on him, Brock became a full-on convert. He was bordering on being obsessed with these damn crystals and then he had an idea: If crystals and help human performance, what about car performance?
The idea seemed innocent enough, but most would have written it off. Brock didn’t. According to some from within the HDT, crystals were getting dangled around the engine dyno and other areas of the workshop. Dowker started appearing at every race meeting in full HDT uniform. He was mockingly referred to as “Doctor Feelgood”.
Ultimately, Brock and Dowker came up with a small plastic box filled with a pair of magnets separated by some crystals embedded in epoxy resin. It was held to the firewall of a car by a single self-tapping screw. The Energy Polariser.
According to Brock “It’s a magic cure. It makes a shithouse car good.”
Brock had already been quietly fitting them to the race cars without telling the other drivers. John Harvey only found out when the polariser broke off its mounting point during a practice session and almost went under his brake pedal.
Brock then started offering them to customers. For just $467AUD you could have this little box of magic fitted to the firewall of your car and it would cure all its ills (allegedly).
Now put yourself in Holden’s shoes. You have an image to maintain right? And then you find out your golden boy is with no scientific basis, putting a box of crystals in cars that have your name and badge on them claiming that they’re “Aligning the molecules of the engine”. Hmm…
So very reasonably, Holden at this point is saying “Uh Peter? This Energy Polariser thingy? What’s the thinking behind it? Seems a bit fishy to us.”
Brock and Dowker respond to Holden with a press release. It was essentially one page of complete and utter gibberish were Brock and Dowker crap on about “vibrations” and how the Polariser will “align the molecules in its sphere of influence”. Want to give yourself a migraine? Here it is in all its glory (apologies for the quality): https://hsvclubnsw.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/DB-Technology-Polariser-Statement.pdf
Remember, this isn’t a cult leader or a pyramid scheme sales pitch or a Byron Bay “Instagram influencer” coming out with this. This is coming from a racing car driver.
The real concerning thing for Holden and anyone who knows a thing or two about cars was the recommended tyre pressures for a Polariser-equipped car: 20 psi. For those of you who don’t know, that’s all but flat. But according to Brock, that’s okay because “the molecules will be aligned, and all will be well…”
At best it was all pseudoscience and at worst it was downright dangerous. Holden were alarmed and insisted on properly testing it. To nobody’s surprise it was found to be simply what it looked like: a box of crystals. Brock then went over Holden’s head to General Motors thinking that surely the mothership would hear him out. They didn’t. Still though, Brock rejected the perfectly reasonable findings that his box of crystals was useless. He even lied to Holden that when GM tested it, they thought it was brilliant and were considering making it a standard feature in all their cars. A quick phone called from Australia to America proved that to be false. As far as Brock was concerned, the Energy Polariser was so advanced, there wasn’t a way to properly test it. Holden were NOT happy at this point.
Brock though didn’t care. Even when the Australian Sceptic’s Society awarded him their ‘Bent Spoon Award’, he pushed on determinedly creating a road car that in his mind would be his and the HDT’s crowning glory: The Director.
All this culminated in February 1987.
The World Touring Car Championship that the HDT were going to take on? Nope. Brock pulled the pin leaving co-drivers Moffat and Harvey (who were both finalising sponsorship deals) out in the cold.
And then he really, really shot himself in the foot when he launched The Director. As an aside, The Director was one badass looking car. Based on the Holden VL Commodore with a low body kit and flared rear wing it still looks the goods today. But Holden took a dim view of it for two main reasons:

1. It came with the Energy Polariser fitted as standard.
2. It featured a new independent rear suspension system developed by the HDT that Holden hadn’t tested or approved.

Holden had asked for more time to evaluate the suspension, but Brock ignored them and refused to even allow Holden to test it. On top the Energy Polariser, it was the last straw.
At the launch of The Director Brock stood in front of The Director that sat on a rotating platform and said the words that put the final nail in the HDT’s coffin:
“We have a motor car which you can probably see circulating behind me which is capable of gaining us some much-earned export dollars and Holden are trying to stop me and I’m a pretty determined sort of person and I’m pressing on. They said to me, if you Peter Brock announce this car at the end of this week, we will withdraw all support. Well, I’ve gone ahead, and I’ve announced it.”
After that, Holden were officially done. They terminated their partnership with the HDT. The dealers cut the support to the race team and the money dried up. The road car business was finished and the race team was decimated. Allan Moffat and John Harvey resigned.
Here's a news report that sums up the events: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZZpP4fbgeE&t=196s
Moffat summed it up best in his autobiography: “I have been through the corporate wringer myself. I have railed against bureaucracy and been frustrated by people who simply won’t be reasonable and do things my way. I have, in my view, been severely let down by people I’ve trusted-although possibly they don’t share that opinion. But if I’d been in a position where I had General Motors in my hip pocket, I would never, never, never have put myself above them. That’s not corporate cowardice; it’s just common sense.”
The HDT was done. Or was it? You see although Holden didn’t want a bar of Brock, his main sponsor Mobil reasoned that he was still the fan favourite and therefore, still money in the bank and agreed to sponsor what was left of the team. He just needed a bit of extra cash to keep him racing. And it came from an unlikely source.
He had three race cars left in his workshop. Two were for racing in Australia and the third was for the aborted World Touring Car campaign. Three men showed up to look at that car. They told Brock they represented a huge fan of his who wanted to own a bit of Brock history. They wrote a cheque for $125 000, gave it to Brock, put the car on their trailer and took it straight to the car’s new owner: Allan Moffat.
Moffat and John Harvey ended up doing what Brock was going to do: Have a crack at the World Championship. It was only a partial campaign on a shoestring budget, but they took a victory at Monza and an outstanding 4th outright at the Spa 24 Hour, driving as a two-man team when everyone else had 3. For me, as an Australian motorsport nutcase, this remains one of the biggest ‘what-ifs’. I mean just imagine if Brock pulled his head in and they had a proper well-financed crack at it. The HDT could have been world champions…
But that’s all hypotheticals. For 1987, Brock ran a much leaner operation. He had a quiet Australian championship. No wins and no podiums. He was even lapped in several races. He cut a dejected figure. And then…
He went out and won the Bathurst 1000.
Against the world’s best (Bathurst was part of the World Touring Car Championship), and in a shoestring budget sh*tbox of a car, he won the damn thing! (I’ve covered that race more thoroughly in a previous post here. Just check my profile for the “Nice wheel arches mate” story. Highly recommend, great read 😉)
After 1987 though, Brock really was in the wilderness. He spent 1988 in an uncompetitive BMW and 1989 & 1990 in a, wait for it, in a Ford. He did win a handful of races but was far from the force he once was. At the end of 1990 the team was officially closed down.
For 1991 Brock went back to Holden, albeit as a privateer, again with minimal success. For 1994 though, Holden took him back in a factory capacity. After the HDT was wound down, Holden backed a new factory squad run by the Tom Walkinshaw Racing empire, the Holden Racing Team. For 1994, the HRT reasoned that commercially, having the people’s champion and the money from Mobil that came with him was a good thing. Brock was back albeit just as a driver. He had no say in the running of the team. Still, he became more competitive again, but he never quite rediscovered his untouchable brilliance from the late 70’s and early 80’s. The younger generation was taking over. By the end of 1997, he retired from fulltime driving.
The problem for Brock, was that retirement didn’t suit him. He was restless and kept on having little comebacks. Some were successful, others less so. He also got right into tarmac rallying which would sadly be the death of him. Ask any Australian motor racing fan where they were and what they were doing on the 8th of September 2006, and they will be able to tell you. I know I can. Driving in a Targa Rally in Western Australia, Brock’s Daytona Coupe went driver’s door first into a thick gum tree. He was killed instantly. All of Australia went into mourning for the second time in just a couple of days. Steve Irwin had died earlier in the week. September ’06 sucked if you were Australian.
It's been over 15 years since Peter Brock died. Many books, documentaries and podcasts have been made about him. There’s no doubt that he was THE fan favourite of Australian motorsport and his legacy and success is still revered today. And yet, when you bring up February 1987 and the events leading up to it to a Brock-diehard even they’ll admit it wasn’t his finest hour. Good people sometimes make bad decisions.
To finish up, here’s an ironic twist to the story. Since Brock’s death, the value of the HDT road cars has spiked due to their heritage and rareness. But the most valuable of all? That would be The Director. Only 9 were made before the HDT road car division was shut down so their value has soared. Originally priced at $87 000 when launched in 1987, one of them sold at auction for well over $300 000 in 2010. The same car that brought the company down is now the most valuable car that it produced.
And yes, it came equipped with the Energy Polariser.

Me and my partner have been rocky for a few months now. We have the odd really good day but the rest are absolute trash days.
She's struggling with the lack of intimacy, hugs, kisses, holding hands, spending quality time together. She said she doesnt feel loved and she feels lonely. She said she's trying to improve on what we've talked about. But I'm struggling because I feel like I've just asked for the bare minimum support in a relationship.
I've been struggling for the past few months with taking all responsibilities for our new puppy, the household chores, taking care of her (she was recently on the sick due to mental health reasons), working from home at the same time as all of this and feeling like I've got not time to myself. If I try and take 30 mins to myself she'll video call me and say that her and the dog miss me or she'll message loads to come down and see what I'm doing or put the dog to bed and then come see me. I feel like I have no escape. For just under 4 months I've taken on all household chores with the odd help from her when she says she'll change and then it lasts maybe 3 days before its back to normal. Waking up every morning with the puppy (she is now trying to alternate mornings with me. She did it twice last week and managed 3 this week). I deal with her jetting off to her exs and friends when they're struggling and need support.... but where was my support throughout the last 3 months? She's on the sick but she still managed to get ready and see her ex who is having a hard time right now. But i feel like ive needed that support and it's never felt like she drops everything to support me.
I know she's now trying to be better but I'm literally asking for the bare minimum. And it was a mutual discussion to adopt this puppy. It was not one more than the other. If anything she brought up the idea first when looking at puppies to adopt online.
She's not looking after herself, she eats terrible, doesn't exercise and spends most of the day watching TV while I sort the dog and the house. And I hate saying this but I feel like im losing my attraction to her. I'm struggling to want to give her affection when I've carried this household for months now and I haven't recieved anything I return. I struggle to want to spend any time with her anymore. We argue about the silliest of things.
I'm exhausted and I just want to grab the dog and take him on a unplugged break without her.
Also therapy is difficult to get here without a hefty price attached to it. So please don't recomend couples therapy as we can't afford it. And plus she won't have therapy for herself so she won't do it for the both of us.

Maybe this isn't an autism thing but apparently I ignore the family dog and it's unkind . We adopted an ex stray from Romania 3 years ago, and she is a calm, 3 year old mixed breed dog, about the size of a collie. She was mainly adopted for my husband who has wanted a dog for years since his last died and so that the kids could enjoy having a pet. I was excited, but we only got her on the stipulation that my husband was her main owner, walking her, training her and such. I was mainly just interested in how cute she was. I grew up without any dogs and was excited to have one but wasn't going to get one as I just didn't have the time or energy, but my husband is home all the time so it was decided.
Anyway, three years on my husband takes great care of her but the kids treat her like a piece of furniture, they just have no interest (aged 2,5,8). She is placid and pretty lazy, no interest in playing really but we all love her. Ufortunately she prefers females, but I just thought that was just luck of the draw with adopting. I thought we were doing fine as her owners , she does like my husband but show preference to me even though all I do really is let her out to go potty and feed her half the time.
My husband says that I give her basic care but don't show her social attention, just like the kids I ignore her
This feels stupid to ask but given I don't have the time to walk her and that is taken care of by my husband, what should one do as a pet owner to a dog? Should I greet her every time I enter a room? She doesn't like to play, I don't really know how to show her a particular type of attention that I seem to be missing here. When I come home she greets me and I pet her for a bit but that is it. What else should I be doing ? My social skills are bad I guess but I apparently can't socialise with animals either

Ace was stunned. She almost felt disassociated from her own scaled hide; mentally she was still processing, even as, somehow, she found herself smoothly walking down the ramp to the navigation console, relieving the human who was at it.
She recovered quickly as she found herself reviewing the controls. They were all laid out, smooth and reasonably intuitively so. It wasn't even that she was entirely unfamiliar with taking command of a capital starship; she had, from time to time, taken the captain's post of the Arcadian Endeavour, to say nothing of the helm, but still, she was gobsmacked that Najia trusted her so readily as to just ask her to take the helm.
She looked the controls over again. The ship seemed ready to sail. "The helm is operative," she said. She was, however, unfamiliar with the ship class; fortunately, her station included a comprehensive overview. As Large vessels went, it was on the small size; the Arcadian Endeavour would handily outgun it; two Large Pulse Turrets, eight Medium Bolt turrets, and, on her stick, 2 'Medium Meson Streams'. She was vaguely familiar with Meson Streams as being the Protectorate's special signature weapon, but she thought that M weapons might be a bit lightweight to be the 'main armament' on an L vessel. "All systems seem to be reporting operational."
Ace looked uncertainly at the human woman standing the gunnery console next to her. She, too, had a slightly uncertain look, but, after a moment's double-checking, nodded firmly. "Gunnery confirms, all stations reporting green, C-Captain," she said, looking back up at Najia, who nodded firmly. "Ace, take us out. Let's track down Boso Ta's mysterious interloper."
Ace nodded firmly, and throttled the Destroyer-class vessel in reverse. The ship accelerated with surprising speed; nothing at all like the ponderous heft of the Empyrean Curs' home. The mammoth headquarters station receded into the distance, and she made a slight hiss to clear her throat. "We are away, Najia. We should begin scanning for this interloper if you wish to locate them." "Right. That's... Actually on this console," Najia recalled after a moment, her hands flying over the console. She'd done this before, a few times, but she still felt like such an imposter standing on the bridge of a ship this large and giving orders, even though she could - and did - order fleets of such ships around. Still, the long-range sensors came up, and in moments a ping found itself. She pushed it to Ace's station. "Let's go see who, or what, is creating such a fuss around here," she said. She felt vaguely self-conscious, running down what was probably some Teladi smugglers with a high-powered transmitter rig in some M freighter with a fast escort frigate.
Ace, meanwhile, was quite enjoying herself. The ship she was testing was spritely, responsive, without having the ponderous over-steer problem the Baku-class M Freighters had. Even the mighty Terran engines couldn't push a ship this large into T-drive immediately, but in regular drive it accelerated and decelrated rapidly. She quickly brought the ship to the appropriate course to intercept the sensor return, and, swooping past the headquarters station on course, activated her Travel drive. As with any large vessel, there was a considerable charge-up period while the ship's engines built power. However, it was rather less considerable than that of most ships in its class. She had time for a glance at the shipyard slips, and noted that a very large ship was under construction, and quite rapidly too - from its lines, it could only be one of old Professor Nakagawa's Nagoya-class Battleships. Ace found that amusing; Najia's people certainly worked fast.
The ship took off with suddenness that surprised her, the pitch of the T-Drive warmup reaching its crescendo. All attention back to the fore, Ace sucked in a sharp breath as they accelerated, rapidly intercepting the interloping signal. It wasn't hiding very well, Ace thought; if indeed it intended to hide at all. She targeted it as soon as it was within range; to the bridge the computer announced "Okinawa: Research Vessel."
Najia groaned audibly, glancing down; there was a transponder with a name. Oberth. "Dick Feynman," she muttered to herself, suddenly feeling a welling-up of outrage. What, she wanted to know, was Dr. Feynman doing in her system, lurking around her anomalies, without so much as dropping by to say hello? Woah girl, Najia thought to herself, taking a half-step back and a deep breath, wondering where that outburst had come from. Then she thought back to all the tiny little microaggressions Professor Feynman had bestowed upon all of his students; to say nothing of his research assistants. She snorted, loudly, as Ace pulled the Koshirae up alongside the Oberth, and she commed it. The skipper's face appeared on-screen.
"Yes; this is the research vessel Oberth. Can we help you?" Najia nodded to him. "Please put me in contact with the commander of your expedition," she said, firmly but politely. "Very well, one moment." The captain passed her through without further comment; he was clearly annoyed with the professor, since he didn't seem to recognize her, but he was still passing a random passer-by - in a destroyer admittedly - straight to the Professor.
Moments later, the professor himself appeared in the comms window, also on the bridge; just as she recalled him from before. "I am Dr. Rick Feynman, Chief Scientist of the Oberth and in charge of Project Genesis," he said, annoyedly and hurriedly. Najia waited for the other shoe to drop. It did so in a few moments, and he gawped openly at her. "Wait, Najia Takio?! Is it really you?" Najia smirked. "In the flesh, Professor." Unsaid, was that he hadn't even tried to contact her. He was either as oblivious as the Maestro of the Empyrean Curs, or he hadn't wanted to contact her. She was actually betting on the former. "Well, I'm glad you made it," he said. "We didn't expect biological matter to have survived this transition."
Najia blinked, and felt disassociated for a moment; she could just about feel the weightlessness of being cast adrift in her suit again. He had expected the transition, and hadn't warned her, or any of the others he had sent out in suits - whose fates she still didn't know? She was on the verge of exploding at him, quite possibly more literally than figuratively, but he continued on speaking blithely. "As I was saying, we are looking into how this station got here. Our research vessel is currently observing anomalies and gravimetric shears in this region."
That's it? That's... It? Najia felt stunned, and she shook her head. She felt on the verge of a schoolgirl explosion of anger, but looked to her side. Marta looked just as furious as she did, but she was maintaining. Selaia, the shipyard temporary master, was standing ramrod-straight, disciplined. Composed, with military bearing. Najia filed that away to ask her about later, but she looked back to the comms panel, and willed herself to the composture that Captain Kevlin had adopted. Be like her, she told herself. The Commander.
"Professor Feynman, I think it's time you told me exactly what Project Genesis is; after all, I almost died for it." There was a blink. He had, at least, the good graces to look somewhat embarrassed. "I'm sorry to inform you that you currently lack the required clearance to access that information, Najia."
Najia had very minimal military training; just the three-week Segaris reserve militia training course that every Pioneer university student got. Between that and the example of Captain Kevlin standing to her side with her feet braced proudly, her face schooled and her arms crossed behind her back as an example, however, Najia managed not to erupt in fury. Below, she saw Ace's tail lash in agitation, but Ace, too, was remaining face-forward, eyes on her controls.
"Is there anything else, Ms. Takio?" Najia considered laying down all the reasons she felt she should be granted clearance to access that information, ranging from the fact that her ships and her production facillities were providing the majority of the Pioneers' construction supplies and she had fantastic trading relations with them, to - again - the fact that she'd almost died for the project - to the fact that, within five minutes, she could have a fleet - a literal fleet of warships training their guns on Oberth.
That last one was, she thought, an argument most compelling. Part of her - a part of her she quickly pushed down - was inclined to simply order the boarding ships in-system to seize the research vessel Oberth by force and have Dr. Feynman dragged before her in irons. That was a sentiment every university student who'd ever had to deal with an insufferable professor would certainly sympathize with. She very much doubted that anyone she knew would even object, but she simply took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
"In that case, Professor, what are you doing here; what do you need?" She somehow managed to maintain the composure she was projecting, she thought; though if she could involuntarily kill with her eyes over a comm screen, she was sure he'd fall dead with his head vaporized to a stump. Obliviously, or else with such a remarkable degree of awareness that he pretended to be oblivious, Dr. Feynman brightened and said, "we are currently lacking antimatter cells we need to complete our observations. If you can organize a delivery to this vessel, we'll be able to greatly advance our timetable."
Najia nodded, curtly, and cut the comm channel. She let out the seething huff she wasn't aware she had been holding in, and took a step back. "Captain, you have the Conn," she said, quietly. "I have the Conn," Captain Kevlin said, taking the center console as Najia walked to the aft railing of the 'smoke pit,' taking it in her hands and squeezing for a long few moments. "There's a conference room aboard, ma'am, if you need long-range communications capability," the captain said to her, with a glance over her shoulder. "Also, your two personal S-class craft were loaded onto our pads before you arrived. Should you require them." Najia recognized what the Captain was saying to her; she was semi-subtly suggeting that Najia take her anger somewhere the crew couldn't see it. Najia half-seethed at that, but she recognized the wisdom - and nodded. "Thank you, Captain. I do need the comms, in fact. Ace, Marta, with me please."
"I could kill him," Najia said, the moment the door closed behind her. Marta, ahead of her, sat on the edge of the conference table and snorted. The room was essentially a copy of their ships' standardized mess halls, but without the kitchen. "You and me both. Sanctimonious little..." "Why do you not, then," Ace asked, turning a chair around and sitting in it, drawing her feet up to the edge of it, curling her tail around her legs. "He has clearly given you cause for outrage; not mere ire or annoyance, but clear outrage. He is also utterly oblivious to the fact that, whatever you were relative to him when last you met, you are, now, the master of a vast organization and due far more respect - and information - than he provided. The Maestro would likely order his ship siezed, that he himself be seized, respect beaten into him, and then have brought before him in chains to answer the questions he refused to answer before."
Najia paused for a moment, and leaned back on the wall of the conference room, taking a deep breath, huffing and letting it out slowly, hugging herself self-consciously. Less the 'ordering a beating to a prisoner' part, she had considered that very course of action. "Is that what you want me to do, Ace?" Ace let out a soft, hissing trill, and shook her head. "No. That would be... Very out-of-character for you, I think." She blinked at that, unsure why she didn't want to see Najia order that course of action, when it was what her piratical upbringing was telling her that Najia should do - would be within every right to do.
"Yeah, well... I considered it," Najia said, "less the beating part, anyway." "He's keepin' secrets from you. Spook stuff," Marta pointed out. "Considering how you almost died in the name of this Project Genesis, you damn well deserve some answers. Frankly, I wouldn't blame you in the slightest if you did order the ship seized and searched for those answers. And if we took Doc Dick prisoner in the process, well... I mean, I wouldn't, you know, condone it if you happened to say that they shouldn't be too concerned with being gentle when they grabbed him, I don't think I'd raise a fuss about it, either."
Najia broke into a laugh, and then face-palmed, sighing heavily, and grinning. "No. As cathartic as it might be..." She sighed, heavily. "As deeply, deeply cathartic as it might be..." She trailed off, then shook her head vehemently. "No. He is a prick, though." Marta snorted. "No arguments from me there. I can't tell you how many times I daydreamed about force-feeding him his own lectern in class." She smirked at Najia. "And I know you felt the same way."
"Mmmhmm. So, fie." She pushed off from the wall, sat in the chair next to Ace, and pulled up the comms, back to the station, intending to explain the matter to Boso Ta. The Boron's head appeared in hologram above the table. "Ah, Assistant! It appears that they are researching the same anomaly which brought the station over here," Boso Ta said, preempting her. He continued on, quickly, "Most of the gravimetric charge dispersed during that event, but they brought quite an array of equipment to examine the traces. Let us hope that this satisfies their curiosity and leads to their departure." Najia snorted at that. "Don't bet on it. I know this asshole, he's... Well, he's up to something. I'll arrange to deliver him the stuff he wants and get this moving, but, don't get your hopes up." She sighed, and decided to be nicer to Boso Ta, if only because she had been reminded of just how not-nice Dr. Feynman had been to her. "Is there anything else you need, Boso Ta, that we can act on at present?"
"Ah, yes," Boso Ta said, brightly. "We are prepared for teleportation trials to begin. Well, we have already tested them," he admitted, "with nonsapient life forms; your Professor Nakagawa is quite the researcher. He and Station Manager Peterson have quite ably assisted my research here whilst you were off endeavoring in Avarice. We've been waiting to offer you the opportunity to be the first sapient teleportation subject of our revived teleport project."
Najia blinked. "Well..." She paused, and huffed, and the table's comm system chirr-upped. It was Peterson, and Najia added her to the conference call. "Tsukiko, what's this about me being a guinea pig?" Tsukiko let out a huff, interrupted in the middle of something she was about to say; her shoulders slumped, and she grinned, wryly. "Okay, not really a guinea pig," she said. "We've tested it in-system with mice, and dogs. We sedated them first," she said, "and then sent them through un-sedated, too. No ill effects we could find. I hate to say it, but Boso Ta is... Kind of a genius."
Najia held back a snort at that, and Tsukiko smirked at her. "So, it's safe, as near as anyone can tell?" "Oh yes. There's no evidence of any sort of atomic or molecular irregularities in scans of the animals taken on either side of the teleport, and a veterinary specialist who examined the animals before and afterwards indicated there was no sign of any lasting trauma from the experience," Boso Ta interrupted. "I felt that being the first sapient to go through the system would be your due, for the work you've put in to bringing us to the point where it is possible. Najia Takio; first human to use a teleport intentionally... Developed by us, anyway."
Najia snorted at that, and smirked. "I'll think about it. Do we need to retrofit anything?" "Oh, no," Tsukiko said. "Or, rather - and this is actually kind of mind-blowing - the actual teleport hardware itself is... Frankly miniscule. There is a refit needed, but it's already been done; we just started fitting them into the lifts of larger ships and the airlocks of Small-classes."
Najia blinked at that. She hadn't even known about it? "As a standard...?" "Indeed, as a standard option! This would, needless to say, greatly simplify personnel transfer logistics."
Najia laughed at that, and looked at Ace. Ace was stroking her crest, and looked... Thoughtful. Marta looked fascinated. "Shit, Ninja Taco, if you ain't gonna go for it, I will. But what'd you want, Professor Peterson?" Tsukiko laughed, blushing slightly. "Please, Marta, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Tsukiko? You're harder to break of that habit than Najia was. Anyway, I called because the Golden Flea and the ship Ninja Taco are getting coded comms signals from the Empyrean Curs."
Ace let out a high-pitched trill at that. "Please, you must tunnel the comm from the Flea here with all haste." Tsukiko punched a button on her desk, out of view, and a holographic comms-panel came up in front of Ace. Ace studied it - it looked to Najia like gibberish - for a moment. "This is the recall signal. Maestro wants us back on the Arcadian Endeavour immediately, unless we are presently under surveillance by the authorities." Ace looked back to her. "It looks like the Maestro has his plans aligned and is ready to do something adventuresome."
Najia took in a deep breath, and nodded. "Alright." She squeezed her hand in a fist, and stood up. "We - or, I at least - are going to teleport back to the station. Boso Ta will get his test - and Boso Ta... Good work. Please proceed with teleportation research as far as you can take it." Boso Ta did a somersault in his tank, gleefully, at that request. "Oh, with pleasure, Assistant!" Najia looked at Ace. "Shall we try this teleport thing?" "Yes, let's!" Ace stood, and had a positively gleeful look. "This sounds... Fun."
Najia could only smile at that, and nod. "Right. Have the Flea and 'Chipmunk's' ships brought to the pads," she directed. "Actually, no; send all of my Chipmunk ships ahead; have them dock on the defense platform at the 18B gate, the Endeavor tends to hang out there anyway." She stood. "So... Just... The lift?" "Just the lift," Boso Ta confirmed. "Though, in the very near future, we suspect we'll be able to initiate the teleport from arbitrary locations."
Najia nodded. "Alright. A quick stop before we go." She smiled, heading for the lift.
A scant few minutes later, Najia was in the as-yet-impersonal-and-unfinished ready room, with Captain Kevlin. The two of them eyed one another warily, for a long few moments, and Najia pointed two fingers at her, starting the conversation. "You're not just some shipyard-working spacer," she said. "You stand like you're professional military." "And you stand like you're a free-wheeling, over-inflated sorority sister who lucked out and won the lottery," Kevlin shot back at her, smirking.
Najia blinked. She blinked again. Then she laughed, hard, curling her arm around her belly, the other hand reaching out to rest on the hull next to the window. When she looked up, she grinned. "Okay, now I know you're not a spy. No spy with a brain in their head would say something that's as likely to get them fired as anything else." Selaia smirked at her. "Unless I'm a very good spy who's compiled a massive psych profile on you."
"Which I strongly doubt," Najia shot back. "But you're also not afraid of being fired." Selaia shrugged. "No, I'm not. Working in your shipyard is nice, yes; probably the second-best job I've ever had, but I'm not going to kiss your ass and be a yes-woman. I won't do that for anyone."
Najia straightened up, and peered into Selaia's eyes. They were, not hostile, but hard with resolve. She smirked slightly, and nodded. "Good. I don't like yes-women, they fuck things up. So, you think I'm, what -" "An irresponsible, idealistic child who managed to, through luck and probably some skill, wind up controlling a growing paramilitary business empire," Selaia shot back, walking around her, eyeing her up. Najia snorted at that. "Child? Seriously?"
"You're not a veteran. You're not a politician. You're not a businesswoman. You might be doing a credible job pretending to be those latter two, but you're a university student who got lucky, and is good at putting on faces." Najia bristled, but shoved it down; the Argon-born starship operator was abrasively blunt... But she was airing doubts Najia herself had. "Harsh," Najia said. "But... Not entirely untrue. So, why are you still here, if you don't like me?" There was a long, quiet moment. "I didn't say I didn't like you," Selaia said, softly. "But you are all of those things." She smirked.
"And you like that, then?" Najia smirked back. "What got you discharged, presumably dishonorably, from the Argon navy? Your big mouth that can't seem to shut up? Called a superior out on some bullshit that you couldn't stand to let stand?" "You'd think that, but no; fraternization." Selaia met her gaze, levelly. "Though I was on the thinnest of ice before that for, as you say, speaking my mind." She walked around Najia, appraising her. "Are you planning to sack me? Should I grab my go bag and begone?" Laughing, Najia shook her head. "No! I was actually going to ask if you wanted the ship for real, not just for the trials."
That, at least, took Kevlin aback for a moment. She walked away, paused, turned. Looked Najia up and down again, slowly. Najia felt self-conscious about it, raising her eyebrow, as the other woman crossed her arms over her chest. "Do I have to get on my knees for the job?" Najia blinked at that. It struck her out of left field, and she rocked back on her heels. "I - I'm sorry... What?" "Do you expect me to put out - sexually - for the position," Selaia repeated, slowly, her voice... Almost unnervingly neutral; uncannily, composedly so. Najia gawped at her for a long few moments, her mouth hanging open. Closed. Open. Closed. She reached up and rubbed her face with her hands for a few moments. "I... I'm sorry, I - what kind of - where did you - what gave you..." She took a deep breath. "No. Emphatically no. What on or off Earth gave you that idea?"
A few moments that seemed like almost an eternity passed, then Selaia shrugged, and seemed to shrink in a bit, relaxing. "Frankly? You have a reputation as a party girl that goes back to Segaris and has followed you here what with all the Segaris Pioneers you're hiring away, preferentially beginning with your old circle of school pals - with whom you're pretty obviously in a, what did the Segaris call it, 'polycule' with. Your politics can only be described as 'liberal to an extreme,' given the way you run your stations domestically, and I overheard a snippet of one of your small craft pilots describing, very bluntly, you going down on her in the cockpit, after offering her the job. She was discussing this with the captain of Fenrir, who compared notes with her. I took that to infer that you liked to be sexual with those captains you personally offered a job to."
Najia flushed red, her jaw dropping, and looked out the window again, at the gas giant hanging in the distance. She groaned-and-laughed at the same time. "Fatimah and Xiaowen... I am going to scold them for gossiping somewhere public," she said, laughing so hard it brought tears to her eyes, and rubbed them out of her eyes. Then she heaved a heavy sigh. "And that didn't chase you away?" "I didn't expect I'd ever run into you personally," the shipyard expert said, "and frankly, given the dizzying breadth of corruption a kid with suddenly-unlimited power could get up to, being a little skeevy with grown adults is on the low end." Najia face-palmed again, harder. "Alright, look," she said, turning around. "Fatimah, Xiaowen and I are old friends from Segaris University. Yes, we're a thing, a big, messy, multi-tentacular thing that we're not ashamed of, but you've rather taken the wrong end of the stick there. It was roleplay, what they were discussing, pure and simple. A few moments of kink snatched from the jaws of some really messy, pressy schedules, between attempts to make the galaxy an overall better place and setbacks. Yes, I pretended to abuse my position and money to make them, for want of another word, perform to keep their jobs. And later, Fatimah turned that exact position around on me, while Xiaowen tied me up and -"
"Enough," Selaia said, laughing; finally her composure had broken, and she'd flushed, chuckling and holding her hand up. "Okay, I get it... I apologize, miss Takio. Clearly, I was badly mistaken." "... Najia, please," Najia said, blushing and grinning. "Since you already know me so well anyway."
Selaia snorted at her, and smiled, wryly, nodding. Najia met her eyes, for a long few moments. "So, that fraternization that got you kicked out of the Argon military..." "When you're a military intelligence lieutenant and a famous, well-liked starship captain insinuates that your career might stall out by standing on your feet but might go places on your knees, you weigh your options," Selaia said, bluntly. She pushed off the desk, and pushed past Najia, staring out the window herself. "So I started delivering reports from under his desk instead of in front of it. I hated myself a little, at first... Then he started telling me to sit up on his desk after. That was a little..." She huffed. "I dunno. Then his wife found out."
Najia winced. "Oh, damn. And monogamy is a big thing in Argon space, I take it?" "Well, yes, but she didn't blow up quite like you're expecting. She blew up at him all right - for not telling her and sharing me with her immediately. I got caught by my immediate superior - the one who didn't like my mouth - going to her home, who tried to use the thing to bring me, the captain and his wife - a defense industrial contractor - down. They had political connections, and when all was said and done, I basically took the fall for everything. The Lt.C who found out I was basically being half-bribed, half-blackmailed into being a kinky, connected couple's toy got to quietly resign, the captain got promoted to commodore, and I got the option to take an administrative discharge with my commission revoked for conduct unbecoming, or get totally shafted at a court martial and take the fall for everything, doing prison time."
Najia blinked at that, and winced. "That's... That's..." "If you give me a pity look, I swear I will punch you in the loins and tell you to take your offer and shove it." Proper fire glared in the skipper's eyes as she turned to look at Najia. Najia stepped back, her jaw half-dropping, and then she shook her head, laughing. "No - no! I was saying, 'that's a shit sandwich.'"
Selaia snorted roughly at her, and turned back to look out the window. "Yeah... Yeah, it was. Anyway, that was then, then I wound up here. I signed on a freighter to forget my past, made port here, decided to take a job in the shipyard because it paid better than the freighter, was work I could do, and the habs here are wonderful. Then I found myself in front of you, and, well... Sorry, for thinking you might be kind of a hump."
Najia snorted. "But not so much of a hump that it was an automatic deal-breaker, huh?" She scratched her head, craning to look up at the Oberth hanging 'above' them. "Yes... No... Maybe? I don't honestly know what I was going to say if you said yes," the Argon woman admitted. "At first, when I first... When I found the whole 'prostitution is legal and regulated' here thing, I was skeeved out. I tried to leave, but, there weren't actually any ships that would take me that day. Then I wound up actually finding out that one of my coworkers - someone I was kind of chummy with - was turning tricks on the side, and... Well, we had a chat about it. He was from Segaris, and thought it was no big deal. And, well... I... Kind of... Had whored myself. I didn't feel good about it then. I still don't, but... I was... Well, willing, I suppose, to at least see if the offer you made, the way you made it, made me feel greasy about it like it did back then, or if it was... I don't know; open? Honest?"
"Well, I'm glad to have pleasantly surprised you - though I am totally going to kill Fatimah and Xiaowen for gossiping in public," Najia muttered without sincere heat, continuing "and no... I'm really not going to demand that someone put out for a job. You just... Impressed me with what I saw, in the admittedly very brief time that I've known you, but hey, I'm the kind of impulsive idiot who takes a leap of faith based on her gut instinct."
"Then, in that case..." Selaia turned to her, and smirked. "I'll skipper this ship for you for now, but I want something bigger when it's available. And not assigned to a reaction force or routine escort or defense duty or something." Najia snorted again, and laughed. She took a step back, and looked Selaia up and down again, smirking and grinning. The formerly-Argon military intelligence woman didn't look particularly extraordinary, but she shifted to stand at 'parade rest,' arms folding behind her back, eyes piercing and patient. "Setting terms, huh?" Najia smirked. She looked like she was considering it, but Selaia had impressed her - and she was also the first hire she'd had who had a formal military background outside the Segaris Pioneers. That perspective could be useful. She crossed her arms. "It just so happens I'm planning to build more ships," she said. "Some of them will be quite large." She extended her hand to Selaia, who took and shook it, firmly. "You wouldn't happen to be planning to construct a Centaur II Battleship, would you?" Selaia asked, grinning at her. Najia laughed. "That depends; if you have the full plans for a Centaur II* in your back pocket, I'll make sure you get the first one out of the yard."
Laughing now, the other woman reached back with her free hand, and dramatically patted one of her rear pockets. "Damn, I appear to have left those plans in my other trousers." She let go, grinning and shaking her head, sighing. "Sorry, again, for... You know." Najia shook her head. "Jeeze, are you ever gonna stop beating yourself up for it?" She shook her head, laughing exasperatedly. "I don't know," the Captain answered bluntly, laughing and wryly face-palming. "I thought for sure that you were either going to say yes, or you'd fire me on the spot for even asking. And now I'm asking myself, do I even deserve the post?"
"For, what? Being willing to entertain the idea?" Najia shook her head, and, taking a bit of a risk, reached out and laid her hand heavily on Captain Kevlin's shoulder, squeezing it. "It's not like I'm running a state military with rules against fraternization or anything. What I care about is; can you do it, and are you someone whose general... Mmmmmh... It's not exactly right to say 'someone whose morals I like,' so much as..." Najia trailed off for a moment; Ace's morals were certainly questionable, even by her standards - in some cases especially by her standards - but she had bonded with her, trusted her. "Someone I feel I can trust to continue to be someone whose actions I like. If you wanna be woo-woo about it, someone whose spirit I like. And you? I have a good feeling about you; I've been wrong before, but... Not often."
Selaia snorted at her, looking at her, then looking back to the window. "And you'd trust someone who was willing to go down on you to get the post?" "As its own qualification, no. But it doesn't make me distrust you," Najia said. "Especially with how you were prepared to evaluate how a 'yes' answer made you feel and then tell me to take that offer and shove it. So, we good? You want to skipper a ship for me?" "Just that simply? No... Strings attached?"
Najia laughed, and turned, leaning against the windowsill and looking at the other woman's head in profile, smirking. "Do you want strings attached?" Selaia started at the question, turning to look at her. She worked her mouth a few times, but couldn't seem to find words; she did, however, flush warmly, looking somewhat guilty, and swallowed. "Okay, look; you're conflicted, obviously." Najia took the professional spacer's hand, squeezing it carefully. "Like I said, the job is yours if you say yes, no strings attached. Completely separately from that, if you are interested in, you know, the idea of getting to know me more thoroughly, that's, you know, a matter we can bring up later. And if you're not, then I'm not going to mention it again."
Flushing, Selaia turned away from her, but kept her hands in hers; squeezing Najia's hand, tightly. "This is so fucking unprofessional of me to even be considering," she huffed. "Sure it is. And you impressed me by being able to put on and take off the 'Professional Selaia' almost instantly. I bet you could summon 'Captain Kevlin' back in a moment."
Selaia blinked at her, turning her head to look at her. She drew her hand back, took a deep breath, and faced the window again. Folded her arms behind her back, and executed a crisp right-face, her face schooled into stern impassivity. Her eyes were mirthful, but the rest was the very picture of the woman Najia had seen standing by at attention while she indulged herself in helming the ship personally. "Just like that," Najia said, grinning brightly. Her grin softened Selaia's demeanor, and she smiled in turn. "You're a deep well of passion who can put on 'military bearing' in a moment. And you're not a yes-woman. That's what I need."
Working her jaw slightly, Selaia relaxed, chuckling and sighing; she flushed again, and sighed. "Thank you," she said. "For the opportunity; for not getting pissed at me, for... Well, for being understanding, and tolerating me being an aggro neurotic about it when things didn't go the ways I'd seen them going." "It's fine," Najia assured her, holding her hands up, placatingly, and to her surprise, Selaia took them, squeezing. "I, um... I..." Flushing and looking away, Selaia swallowed. "Is that offer going to be on the table if I need to sleep on it?"
Najia laughed, grinning and shaking her head. "Oh, you're amazing. Yes, absolutely; sleep on it. Hell, I have to get going; places to go, pirate clans to infiltrate. Fun stuff! Speaking of which, please make the ship combat-ready and take it to the Windfall/Eighteen B hardpoint to dock. I'm not saying I expect anything to go down, but..."
"Understood." Selaia looked back up; she remained flushed, but smiled. "That, I can do." She squeezed Najia's hands, and Najia squeezed back, then let go. She pivoted on her heel, slipping out of the Ready Room and headed for the lift; Ace and Marta had disembarked said left and were standing to the side of the corridor, with Marta telling Ace an anecdote from when they were still young class-taking students at Segaris U. "Well that took longer than expected," Marta said. "Everything good?" "Everything's good," Najia said. "And we have a new captain. I figured she should keep Koshirae for now. So, how does this lift-teleporter work?"
"Like this," Ace said, stepping into the lift. She pressed a button, and Najia felt a strange, yet familiar sensation start to take hold; like the feeling she got just before the headquarters had transported itself. Like falling in all directions at once; then, with a bright flash, she found herself in another lift. Blinking, Najia felt herself up for a few moments, then strode out; they were on one of the landing pads at the headquarters, and standing above them was the Golden Flea. Her jaw dropped. "That... That... Was both incredible, and..." "Somehow underwhelming," Ace concluded with her. "It was not wholly without fanfare, yet somehow, I anticipated... More."
Najia nodded. "Right. So, how should we do this?" She looked to Ace, who smiled at her. "We stagger the arrival of Chipmunk's ships and mine in the vicinity of the Arcadian Endeavour, as though we had scattered, lain low, and were returning from somewhat different places." Najia nodded. "Right. And, I wonder... Would it be possible to fit the Flea with a teleporter?"
"Indeed it would," Ace agreed. "I asked Boso Ta if this was possible and he said it was very simple. He delivered the equipment to the Flea before I had finished asking, in fact, though I do not think I will be able to install it and fly home simultaneously." Najia grinned at Ace, and Ace grinned back at her, adding, "but, if you wished to fly back with me, one of us could tinker, while the other flies."
Najia grinned at Ace, and looked back to Marta. "That sounds good to me. Would you please take the Jackdaw and -" "Head on ahead while the two of you fiddle with Ace's ship and snuggle up naked while the ship is on autopilot?" Marta asked back, smirking. Najia flushed, glancing around; there was nobody within earshot. "Mmmm-hmmmm. You ain't foolin' noone, sister." Marta grasped Najia, pulled her close, and kissed her. Najia felt herself melt into the grasp, kissing back instinctually, embracing her oldest friend and turning her head to meet the kiss. Then it ended, Marta pulled back, and stepped back, looking down at Ace with her hands on her hips.
Ace blinked, peering up at the far-taller, stronger human. For a moment, she was concerned she would be threatened again, then she sucked in a sharp breath as Marta reached under her arms, grasped her chest, and simply lifted her to eye-level, then hugged her tightly. Ace let the breath out slowly, tentatively returning the embrace, and asked, "I... thought you distrusted me," she commented. "I did," Marta said, bluntly. "But Najia, apparently, took a chance on you, and figures you're alright. She's been right about that kind of thing a lot more often than I have." Marta squeezed her, and Ace sucked in a breath in alarm; the human could probably squeeze her so strongly that she passed out, yet she didn't squeeze so hard she hurt. It rather felt like being in Najia's arms, in fact. "So, I'm guessing you're one of us now. That ain't gonna be a problem with, you know, the whole pirate clan, is it?"
There it was; the proverbial shoe. Najia swallowed, glad that Ace couldn't see. She had been studiously not raising that point. "It will not be, provided... Provided I am not asked to betray the Curs. Membership in a pirate clan is... Voluntary, for the most part," Ace said. "I will not betray them." She looked back at Najia. "And, I think, neither will you." "But you are willing to leave them... For us?"
"For you," Ace said, reaching out with her tail, wrapping it around Najia's arm. "And, perhaps, the rest of you, in time," she added, looking at Marta, trilling softly. "But I will have to see the Maestro's big scheme through." "Family. I get that," Marta opined, setting Ace down. "Y'all fly safe. We'll filter in like a disorganized rabble."
Ace nodded, and turned to board the Flea. "What took you so long, anyway?" "Oh geeze." Najia followed the Teladi pilot. "It's a long story."

Coming here because I know I absolutely cannot discuss this with anyone IRL. But title says it all, I’ve been a side chick for over 5 years.
I didn’t know he had another girlfriend until about 2.5 years into the relationship. Keep in mind, by this time I was already so deep in love with this man and thought I’d marry him. Lost my v-card to him and everything. We met when I was young and he was a bit older and the effect he had on me was insane. To cut a long story short, I was so in love with him already that I couldn’t bear the thought of being without him. So I stayed. Fuck me, I know.
She doesn’t know about me, but I know about her. His excuse for this whole thing is that he needs to stay with her because he’s getting a permanent visa via their relationship. And that once he gets it, he’ll leave her and we’ll be together. I know this is fucking stupid but I literally love this man so much I don’t know how to leave.
But I know I must leave, and I’ve been slowly building the courage. It’s especially hard because I have an insane level of chemistry with him. We’re so compatible in every way, besides the fact that he has someone else. He helps me financially and emotionally and I love being around him and the sex is great. But I know this fucked up situation has to end and I need to move on. He lives with her too, they own a house and share a bed but he claims they don’t sleep together (???).
I guess what’s tipped me over the edge is that I just found out they adopted a dog together. We would always speak about adopting a husky together one day but he’s gone and done it with her behind my back.
This “””relationship””” was doomed from the start and I know what I have to do. The thought of living my life without him is almost too painful to think about. But it can’t be much worse than crying myself to sleep every night knowing he’s in bed with another woman.
And yes I know I’m a homewrecker and a fucking idiot and a loser but what else is this sub for?

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this is long and if confusing maybe not the best to post because backstory is needed. I (44,F) have been with my hubby(44,M) for on and off 18 years and there's tons I could unpack why in our 20's we were a mess because he didn't want a gf so I dated other people but we would still hang out and he didn't like I dated but again wouldn't commit....until right before he went away to school and I wanted to go with him but he wasn't ready to move in together (27 at his time w years only dating him) and we broke up officially and I met someone else thought I would have happily ever after with had a child with the new boyfriend and we got married...it didn't last (various reasons but we parted amicably with a plan to share custody) but he never wanted to see our daughter which I hated but because she had so much love with my family I left the door open to see his daughte anytime he wanted he still never did.
one year later when daughter was 1yr old guy who hubby and in in our 30's we became friends again then officially bf gf and he fell in love with my daughter and has raised her as his own. We got married when we were 35 (which funny enough in our 20's that's when he said he wanted to settle down) so 2015 we married he even gave her a ring at our ceremony to show he's marrying not just me but he wants to adopt her and be legal dad. I brought this up to bio dad who didn't seem to care (no more child support)
However right after we got married a year later hubby lost it he had a mental health breakdown and was diagnosed with PTSD and social anxiety and he generally doesn't work well with others so his job was gig work in entertainment industry ...but it got so bad I had to leave
I didn't divorce him right away I was supposed to live with my best friend and her kid like 2 gals going through splits and that turned into a nightmare (let's just say she had low self esteem and dated a guy with 18 DUIs who basically moved in too and I left I wouldn't have my daughter around alcoholics or the first time I met this piece of shit he wanted me to see his d**k and that didn't even phase my ex-bff) Lost the friendship of 12 years too. I knew no one and lost alot of money and possessions moving in with crazy psycho ex bff and her drunk bf and oh his best friend also moved in and slept in their room together like wtf?!? I found a quick place and left...
One year after my now husband and i separated my daughters bio dad died (they had finally reconnected at my now husbands insistence he wanted her to always know she had bio dads family she knows all about her family step brother and sisters) and it hit a nerve I didn't want her "real taking care of her since she was 1yr old" father to end up dead or worse so we reconnected and slowly built our marriage back ( I don't know why I just didn't divorce i had done it before in the other married but maybe my heart wanted him to get the help he needed and he did he started therapy seeing a psych doctor and was back to being the man I loved and married ....
So a year after seeing he was making progress I let him move back in prepandemic and just the pandemic has fucked up so many things like with my daughter she has social anxiety ...my husband also just tries to say he's fine doesn't need certain meds he used to take when we seperated
The reason I'm asking for advise is he refuses now to take anything but an antidepressant and anti anxiety med nothing to help anger at the world issues and mood swings. Or therapy again. This has been ongoing for a year. We fight all the time but are passionate people too so I take blame in fighting too. Lately he has been self medicating with marijuana and checks out for like a week out of the month and he used to be able to smoke when I first met him (he quit when 35 and picked it up again at 43) but now it just makes him sloppy and stupid and then he comes down and gets mean saying I wouldn't let him adopt his daughter I wouldn't go to appointments for mental help....but she gets survivor benefits so I don't know if it's in her best interest for him to legally adopt her that's college money saving every month and it causes nasty comments to be thrown at me about how she's not really his daughter then ofcourse he apologizes and I would go to every appointment but he needs to make them...
After pandemic im the only one working his jobs dried up and hard to get back into. He has tried to get disability for mental health and back issues and they deny him even with a lawyer...I love my job and working so I don't mind picking up extra but I'm tired all the time and he uses it against me.
To add a layer of difficulty we made the decision to have my parents move in with me so they could retire and at the time he was still doing great and supportive and on board knowing my mom also has mental illness that could cause psychosis and sure enough once she retired she got sick but my dad takes care of her and I try to be there for appointments which I would gladly do for him if he would go get help more than Prozac and Xanax he sees a doctor on video because mental health here sucks ...for the last 3 months he's gotten angrier my parents are here and that I work all the time so he's home being stay at home dad which he's awesome at and takes some chores from me like cooking cleaning taking our daughter (15F) to all her school events.
But everyday we fight because he has to be home with my sick mom and that I'm tired and only working all the time. I get it's hard but my dad takes care of her...hubby is just home all day and focused on tHat now. He has said he want to leave but has no where to go...today he says he doesn't like the way I treat him because when he's stoned all it makes me angry like why can't he just wait until night time he'll I would love the chance to some with him at night but can't .....
I have never heard him say he wants a divorce but today I asked if it's too much does he want oneingget thE I have no where to go (he could tell him mom he needs to stay there but won't)
So do I force his hand is it time For divorce because it got so much better and it's almost as as now as it was in 2016.....
Sorry so long let's sum up
TL;DR: hubby of 8 years (on and off relationship since 2004)had mental health breakdown we seperated 2016!he got help meds therapy let him movie back in years later 2018 same issues now are happening again....should I just call his bluff and just divorce?

Final request for respondents! Any more would be greatly appreciated!
UK-based people willing to rehome only
I am researching attitudes towards disabled dogs who need rehoming, and whether their disability impacts their adoptability for my Masters Dissertation and I would greatly appreciate anyone willing to fill in this survey.
This survey should take approximately 10-15 minutes to complete and forms the first part of my research.
https://exeterssis.eu.qualtrics.com/jfe/form/SV_0JI6aOrDe4pU7wa
Thanks in anticipation