Futoncritic the chase

Before I even jump in, a couple clarifications: • I know that there are myriad choices any parent can make, and that it’s not clear-eyed to necessarily label decisions “good” or “bad”, but I imagine anyone familiar with child development would respond with concern to what I’m recounting. • This is my response to what I was able to see and hear in a small sliver of time, and I understand that I may not have heard every word or known the whole story. • I know this is minor compared to what others have witnessed, or witness on a regular basis, but it’s simply a recent example that is fresh on my mind.
I took my kid to the playground. Another dad showed up with a kid who looked to be 4 or so, which is isn’t that far from my own. Here are a few things that I overheard, as we were the only people in the park:
• They’re on bikes, and literally as soon as they enter the park, the dad is speeding up and distancing himself at least 10-15 paces from this kid. The kid is physically struggling to keep up, pained look on his face, saying “Dad, wait, this isn’t a race!” And dad responds with “Then you better hurry up!”
• The sidewalk they’re biking on encircles the playground. After one lap, no surprise, the kid wants to stop and play. He neatly parks his bike at the bike rack and gets off to walk to the playground. Here comes the dad passing by him: “Get back on your bike! You said you wanted to bring your bike, so we’re biking. We came here to ride our bikes. Come on, let’s go!” The kid hesitates and sees my child and me on the playground. “Guess you don’t want that bike then!” Yells the dad. “Nope, you don’t need that bike anymore! Now I’m going to sell it.” The kid gets back on his bike for another lap. After that, he’s so antsy that he parks it again and chases his dad on foot for fun. His dad just keeps biking at a decent speed in the wide circle around the park while the kid tries to catch him.
• Finally the dad relents and lets the kid play. He sits down on a bench and stares at his phone while his kid runs off. Within a couple minutes I hear the kid thud onto the mulch and start to cry loudly, running back to his dad. His dad responds with “What happened?! What happened! What’s going on?!” The kid is so upset that he’s not putting words together, the dad tells him he needs to calm down and breathe, and then “Back up, look, you’re getting me dirty.” He sits his kid next to him on the bench, no physical contact that I can see, and gets his kid to admit that he had tried to run up a slide. “If you want to be a big boy you need to play smarter. This isn’t about doing whatever we want, or racing around, or showing off here at the park. Here, brush yourself off, you’ve got to smarten up.” Kid’s still crying and getting no comfort. Meanwhile dad is imparting his “don’t show off” lesson loud enough that I can hear him.
I spent the time keeping distance when possible, keeping my kid focused on what we were doing, singing with and talking with my kiddo so all that mine would pick up on was simply that there was another kid there to play with their dad.
I’ve seen enough posts here to know that engaging to address something would have been a terrible idea. The only interaction I had was saying “thank you” when the dad complimented my kid’s hat, and when the other kid got curious enough to play near us as we were walking away, I asked him if he had seen an interactive feature on the playground — he looked and interacted with it a bit, and I said it was one of our favorite things there.
But the whole time, I’m wanting to scoop this kid up and give him a hug, or just do something to shine a little more light into his day. Every time I witness a kid who could use more in a particular moment, it really sticks with me, and I think about how many millions of kids could use more love, more comfort, more acceptance, more support.
When you see things like this in passing, how do you handle it? What do you do in the moment, and what do you do or tell yourself in the time that follows? I get stuck thinking w about all that a particular child might be experiencing in their lives, and although empathy is an important thing, I don’t know that getting stuck on this set of thoughts helps me move forward constructively.

I'm heading overseas on a hiking/backpacking trip in Europe this summer. I had not originally intended to fish, and won't be taking my fishing gear with me, but I have plenty of time that I can dedicate to trout/river fishing while in Scotland (all of August, fit around some multi-day hikes, potentially anywhere in Scotland), and England (2 weeks in mid October), as well as a couple of days in September in Northern/Central Italy.
I would love any recommendations of general locations/streams, and particularly any guides. I'd need to hire my gear through the guide as well (this seems to be relatively common in Australia, is that the case in Europe?). Its not out of the question to take my gear, but I would be hiking it across Scotland, so I'd prefer not.
I'm very much on the beginner side (but know the basics), and have only fished locally in Australia's mainland high country. I would be more keen to learn interesting streamcraft/techniques than necessarily chasing the biggest fish. Probably prefer solo trips or small groups, and overnighters/multi-days would be fine.
Grateful for any tips, recommendations and stories!

Hello all
I have the following cards as of now:
BOA CCR - 8/22 QUICKSILVER - 5/23 (reject) AMEX BCE - 5/23
Hard inquires on each bureau - Experian - 2(AMEX, c1) Transunion - 3 Equifax - 1(c1)
I wish to apply to chase for the next cards. I would like to know if I am currently 2/24 or 3/24?

I recently came across a post about an expat who participated in a night wedding. After reading the accounts I began to do research on my own. Not because I believe in any of that stuff. I'm a magician after all. Illusion is my bread and butter. And I can detect trickery better than most. Which in my line of work has its benefits. But old traditions are the best places to pick up new techniques. Old ways that are new to others that delight and even scare people. Because, if I can make them afraid. Make them look away. For even a second. I can pull off some astounding magic.
My gig at the cruise line was coming to an end as we neared the port of Shanghai. And for my last several shows, where I'd normally start to include my greatest tricks in order to leave a lasting impression. I developed a new act that I called "The Sneaky Bride", it involved a mannequin in a wedding dress, a beautiful train, veil, flowers on the ground - the whole nine yards some would say. The trick was that the bride would sneak bites as my assistants who are dressed as servers pass by with their trays.
I begin the trick by placing a mannequin center stage for all to see so that they know it's a dummy. I show them there are no holes, and the entire thing is solid. Then we dress it up and set the stage for a wedding. And with a bit of lighting, another assistant switches places with the mannequin and is being fed under the veil. We later changed it to more slight of hand techniques as the assistant complained she wasn't able to chew fast enough as the items of course have to get larger and larger for comedic effect as the guests were wowed by the disappearing act as the fake wedding progressed.
At the end we even invited the unmarried men up to the stage and then threw out a fake bouquet, and watched them clamber over each other in good fun to catch it. The act was an instant hit and had the crowd roaring every night. Which was why I decided to take a firsthand look at the original, and see if there were any other staging techniques I could learn from this old tradition.
With some help from Bing and its ChatGPT features I was able to get a relatively good idea of where it was practiced. So I booked the next flight out to begin my quest for a real night wedding.
Upon arrival at my hotel, I asked the concierge for information about the local practice.
"Yes. I know of this one. We practice it often for children who were taken too early."
"But they are all scams?"
The concierge smiled, "In most cases the pouches mean no harm, and they're simply for families who want to provide peace for themselves and to complete a lasting tradition. Sometimes the dowries are quite lucrative as well, and it is the families who are scammed by those who go and collect these ghost wives as concubines. We call it a blue procession for the trail of ghosts the husband leaves behind wherever he goes." He leans in, "But between you and me? They're mostly all scams."
I laughed, and I can't stress this next part enough, tip your concierge! Which I did. "Thank you, and also. Do you know where I could get a good start on finding more information about these ghost dowries? Or even find one of these pouches myself?"
"The temple down this first street to the left, about half a kilometer, would be a good place to start. But finding a pouch is a bit more difficult as they pop up sporadically. However, if traditions are to be believed it is the pouch who chooses the spouse."
I thanked him again and began to make my way through the early morning rush toward the temple. The streets were lined with open markets full of food from local farmers, which were common in the morning in this part of the world. They would disappear before the afternoon and then return again to sell wares at night when it was cooler. It made the city feel as if it were breathing as the locals rose and ebbed outside with day and night.
On my way, I searched the ground and around alleys for loose pouches. But I had no such luck by the time I arrived at the temple. Large red pillars that were thicker than any tree I've personally had the pleasure of meeting held up the high ceiling. Inside, the locals were already starting to disperse as the work hours were amongst us. Which left me nearly alone in this temple at about 8:00 in the morning.
A monk or priest was kneeling on a mat in front of a wooden shrine, throwing pieces of wood in the shape of dumplings on the floor. I waited patiently for him to finish. Taking in the sights and the delicate features of the temple. When he rose I approached him.
"You don't speak English by any chance do you?"
He smiled.
"What about the middle tongue?" I asked in Mandarin.
"Oh," he seemed surprised. "Yes. How may I be of assistance?"
"What were you doing just now?"
He held out his hand and showed me two red wooden pieces that were, with closer inspection, in the shape of moons. "Jiaobei," he told me. "We use these to seek divine guidance."
"How does it work?"
The monk shows me the two sides, one was smooth and flat, the other side rounded. "You ask a question and then throw it on the ground. One block flat and one block round, means yes. Both blocks showing round means no. Or depending on the question. Anger from the Gods. Or crying in sadness as it is commonly known. And finally, both blocks showing flat means laughter. Which could mean a number of things." He hands them to me, "You throw it three times to get a better answer."
"I'm guessing if it's the same all three times, the answer is definitive?"
The monk nodded.
"Will I..."
"Ah ah ah, in silence."
I didn't want my first question to be too convoluted or difficult. So I kept it simple and asked if I was a good magician. Then I threw the Jiaobei on the floor. It clattered and rolled on its rounded back, showing two flat sides.
The monk smiled.
"That usually happens the first time anyone tries Jiaobei. But in my experience, it generally means you asked a pure question."
"What happens if I didn't ask a pure question and it came back as angry?"
"The gods will remember it. They will remember you."
"No bad first impression then huh," I whispered under my breath. "Okay. Do I need to throw it two more times or can I ask a different question?"
"You may ask a different question or throw it twice more."
"What is my name?" I threw it on the floor. And to my surprise, as the ends are pointed and difficult to balance, one of the damn things stood tall and erect.
The monk bowed to the pieces. "Truly you have been picked by the gods to be answered. Lijiao or a standing answer like this is uncommonly rare. The gods generally choose to laugh at a nonsensical question. And often get angry if you throw it two more times. And rarely do they ever answer ones asked aloud."
I bent forward, skeptical, though a temple this was, at how the thing worked. In my head I could only think that the switchboard guy was quick on his feet. But looking around I couldn't find any cameras. Though in this day an age, they're made smaller than a fly. So it was difficult to tell. I picked up the pieces, feeling for any sense of magnetism, but there were none.
I asked one last question before I left that day. I asked their gods, would I find the real deal? And I threw it on the ground three times. All three times it came up yes. But for two months I scoured the city, and the country side. And I did chance upon several pouches. Some were obviously scams as I watched each bag carefully before approaching. Especially noticeable are the ones in the city which would be laying on the sidewalk, filled with bills for people passing by. But I observed that if a local went to go pick it up, two or three men from around the corner would come and threaten him to put it back. But if a foreigner picked it up, an old man or woman would come and start calling them son before leading them away.
There were of course others that were genuinely following tradition. I chanced upon several of them and was married several times. But each one was playful almost. And performed by their parents in the day. Leaving me with several small bags of pocket change, a good dinner, as I went on my way.
During one of these fake night weddings I even saw a child playfully munching on a corn cob in the corner under one of the tables as I fed the effigy they constructed of my fake bride. Which was when I think I decided to call it quits. Believing that I'd never find the real deal. Although I did learn a lot as tradition can be translated by me into performance. Which helped me ground 'The Sneaky Bride' act further. All in all, this was time well spent.
My visa was coming to an end and I had mostly been enjoying the sights, the city, and their way of life. When on one the last day, as I was leaving from a faraway eatery that the concierge had recommended, that I saw a red pouch made of silk with a thick yarn around its throat, stuffed full of money. I looked around and didn't see a single person there, nothing except flat farmland and water gullies for miles.
Odd, I thought to myself, as it looked truly abandoned.
For a second I played with the idea of picking it up. Wondering if somehow a relative of the deceased would pop up magically next to me and I could change the world of magic by studying their technique. But I didn't want to spend my few hours chasing ghosts. I wanted to enjoy my time. So I kept walking.
I got back to the city and spent the remainder of my day eating and drinking, meeting new friends at the bar, newfound lads who I invited a hundred times to visit me in Melbourne one day. Who all agreed that if fate ever brought us back together we would drink until the sun rose. So yeah, I was fairly drunk when I got back to my hotel room, and didn't believe what I saw when I opened the door. It was a red pouch sitting on my coffee table.
"Someone's trying to play a trick on me," I mused. "They must have heard me talking at the bar." I circled the table studying the pouch. Any magician worth his smoke, likes a good bag. So there was no doubt to me that this was the same one I saw earlier. Which made me start putting two and two together. "It must be the concierge. He's the one who sent me out that far." I laughed and picked up the bag, even though I knew the rules. I opened it and thumbed through the bills. "It's much more than what I tipped him. Much more." Curious, I wondered what he would have done if I didn't return this to him. It must have been quite a few months worth of wages. I threw the bag up in the air and caught it as if I were juggling before I tossed it on my nightstand. "I'm going to let him sweat for a little bit and pretend I didn't find it tomorrow as I check out," I mused as I went to go take a shower.
I opened the door and felt the words stick to the roof of my mouth as the bag appeared on the counter next to the sink. I shot a glance back to the nightstand and indeed the bag I had just thrown on there was missing.
"This is a good fucking trick. That, or I'm drunker than I thought." I started questioning did I somehow fall asleep beforehand? Or walked into the bathroom and put it there as I mused my little scheme of making the concierge nervous at the lost pouch? Had I somehow in my drunken state done something without realizing it? No. That couldn't be it. I touched my chest to check my heart rate and put my fingers on my face. A bit flushed, but heart rate adequate. I was fine for the most part. Just drunk.
I looked at the pouch on the counter, and peered gingerly into the bathroom as if I've never stepped foot in one, before deciding to grab the bag and close the door. "Okay," I said loudly. "Whoever's doing this. Come on out." Of course no one appeared, not that I expected them to because the credo I lived by is that a good magician never reveals his trick.
"Okay, let's see how good you guys really are," I mused. Going over to my closet and placed the pouch on the shelf. Closing the door. Then I went back to the bathroom and opened the door. It was empty. I checked the nightstand drawer, mpty. I looked all over, and it was still mty. I breathed a sigh and went over to the closet door, "I guess you're just a bag after all." Except when I looked inside. MT. I couldn't find the bag behind any other nook or cranny. I know, I checked them all. And they were all .
I stumbled backwards and looked around, glancing at the ceiling corners in case someone had crawled up there. And even looked under the bed. But there was no one else here. I felt my chest tighten as I tried to make sense of what was happening. "Its got to be the walls I reasoned." And so for the next half hour I scoured the entire room with my hands, pushing, pressing, pulling anywhere and everywhere I could. Using all my years of experience to figure out what was going on. But there was nothing.
I couldn't stay in that room another minute so I rushed outside and nearly stepped on it! The bag! It was right at the foot of my doorstep.
My mind tried to wrap around how that was possible, "It's got to be a dupe. They've got more than one bag. I've been had, that has to be it. And the furniture inside, they have secret compartments. God, they really put a lot of effort into this," I laughed. "I have to know how this trick is done." So I opened the pouch and pulled out the note inside.
The notes generally contained their name, their current would-be age (she was 20 this year, older than most), what time they were born (8:07), a picture if they had one (she did), and how old they when they died (5). If the deceased were a bit older, perhaps a tidbit from their family is included about their personality. But most importantly, it always contained their address.
I looked at my watch, it was late and my flight was in the morning but perhaps I could still make it. So I gathered the rest of my things, my luggage, the mannequin for my act, and other bag of tricks in case I needed to go to the airport right after. "Come on," I yelled out loud to my pranksters. "Let's go see what other tricks you have up your sleeve."
I went down to the lobby and had the front desk call me a cab. I looked around for the concierge but he was nowhere to be found. So I left a note for him. And then left.
The cab drove until the city faded away. We were practically on the other side of the island by the time its tires skipped to a stop. I got out and knocked on the giant half circle doors of the address. I noticed that we were deep in the countryside. There were hardly any lights dotting the night.
I knocked several more times before I heard shuffling behind the door. And then it opened. An old man stood in front of me in his drawers.
"What do you want," he asked angrily. "Do you know what time it is?"
"I'm sorry for disturbing you at such a late hour. But," I pulled out the pouch. And his eyes widened up.
"Meju-eh. You're back." He looked at me up and down. "What are you supposed to be," he asked but then shook his head. "No, no. Come in. Come in, please."
"I don't have much time," I told him. "I have to leave in the morning."
"Sit, sit." He ushered me to a chair in the courtyard.
I placed the bag on the table next to it, "I have a flight in the morning, so if we're going to do this. We have to do it now."
Instead of fighting me, he nodded, "Yes. I agree. I don't have much time either. And Meju-eh is older than most ghost brides. The bull demon might not let her through his gets if she gets any older. And then she'll be a husbandless spinster for eternity." He ushered around, "We don't have many living relatives either. So it shouldn't be too troublesome to hurry this along." He called into the house and a young woman came out, "This is my granddaughter. Ah-ahn. Meju-eh's older sister. They were close as children."
Ah-ahn was quite beautiful. I almost couldn't take my eyes off of her.
"Go and start preparations and rouse anyone you can get a hold of. We must have the wedding tonight. Even if it isn't grand as I would like."
"Will we make it in time," I asked. "It's a lot of work for one person. Perhaps I could help?"
The old man nodded, "That's a good idea. But forgive me, I must retire for now. Or else have no energy for the wedding." He turned to his granddaughter, "Fetch me when the preparations are ready." As he left us alone in the courtyard.
"What can I do," I asked her.
"We're going to need flowers for decoration."
I pulled a rose out from behind her ear, "I happen to have a case of these on hand at all times." I put the flower in her hair.
She smiled, "Thank you."
"What else?"
"Um, we already have tables for family gatherings. There should be enough food in the freezers that we can just heat up. I need to call my aunt to come help. And wake up some of the kids. Also...we kind of need a statue of some sort, as a stand-in for my sister."
"Statue? I think I have just the thing."
Hours went by and it was the dead of the night, but watching all the people bustling around the courtyard, the kids in excited whispers, you'd never guess that all of us should have been sleeping. Soon the tables were set, the food was hot, even the decorations were strung, and I had procured my mannequin from my luggage and a few of the menfolk were putting it together inside the main living room.
Several times I found myself laughing and having a good time with the others, although chasing that hen made me look quite ridiculous, and several times I bumped into Ah-ahn and we would talk and exchange a few words. In the beginning she talked mostly about her sister. How she was troublesome as a child. Always hiding things. I told her about the pouch appearing and disappearing in my hotel. And we both had a good laugh. Eventually we talked about ourselves. I learned she wanted to get away from here, "To see the world," she told me. The more we talked the closer we got. I could feel it. Soon we were bumping into each other just to feel our bodies touch. But before anything else transpired the wedding preparations were complete.
The old man was retrieved from his bedroom and everyone gathered outside in the courtyard, looking into the main living room. There was a wooden shrine in the back of the room and the mannequin had been traditionally dressed. From an old box the grandfather retrieved several personal items that belonged to Meju. And I was then asked to enter the living room.
The grandfather said a few words, and then gave us his blessing. Ah-ahn handed me a bowl of sticky rice ball soup. I had been through this process before and knew what to do. I ate one of the pink balls and then went to go feed my new bride.
Now I've traveled with this mannequin for some time. Seen it at a dozen of my own shows. Slept with it in the room. Knew that it was in fact a dummy for all intents and purposes. However, as I started moving my spoon toward it. I swear I saw it's chest rise as if it were breathing.
I couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol ebbing away from earlier or a trick of the light. But even its shoulders looked softer than usual. My hand started shaking as it got closer to her mouth. It was like watching an out of body experience as the spoon inched under her veil. And then the CRUNCH. It scared the fucking shit out of me. I looked around hoping to see some kid in the corner playing a dumb joke. But there were none. And I didn't believe what I was seeing even as the veil started moving as her jaws chewed the sticky material back and forth.
"No way," I shook. "There's just no way." My hand was so close to the veil. "Oh God. Please. I have to know how this is done." I ripped off the veil.
Meju looked very much like her picture. But older. And then older. And older. As if her face was starting to rot away as it contorted. People behind me screamed. The lightbulbs we had strung popped. Kids were running around and the grandfather fell to the floor clutching his heart.
I backed away, the spoon clattering to the ground as I watched the mannequin crick and crack as its arms and legs bent in a tangled mess until it was walking on all fours!
The thing grabbed the bent down to the grandfather and started chewing!
I turned around and saw the other guests were piling out of the courtyard. The tables were upturned and only the dim crescent light of the moon bore down on us. Everyone was screaming trying to get out. I ran and bumped into Ah-ahn. She whirled terrified and then realized it was me. She yelled, "You never! Look at the bride before it's time!"
"I'm so sorry! I didn't know. I thought it was a trick!"
She grabbed her face, her nails leaving streaks behind as she clawed at her skin, "Now she's going to kill every living blood relative. And then you." Ah-ahn laughed manically. "She's going to torture you!"
The people kept pushing around us until we got separated. Her final words still ringing in my ears as I took to the dirt road outside and started running. I ran for nearly a mile before I spotted a cab sitting outside of someone's house. I banged on their door and then begged them to take me to the airport. Throwing at them all the money from the dowry.
When I arrived at the airport I hurried through the TSA. Relieved at the lights and normal looking people. I boarded my flight. Tapping my foot nervously the entire time, staring out the small squarish window as we prepared to take off. The sun was starting to rise as the engine roared. I took one last look at the island as we flew away. Still trying to catch my breath at what I had just caused.
My mind was reeling as I heard two knocking noises, they sounded oddly familiar, and for a second I thought that Meju had finished with her family and had somehow come boarded. But then I realized the noise was coming from my carry-on. I reached inside and pulled out two red shaped crescents that the Monk at the temple had given to me. And I realized that if I ever needed any form of divine guidance this was it.
So right there in the tiny aisle. I asked the gods if I had escaped and threw the Jiaobei.
No.
I asked the gods if I would be safe.
No.
I asked them would Meju kill me.
Both flat.
Both flat.
Both flat.
s

Just wanted to get peoples opinion on best Danger Zone single pack to buy to pull a gold in their experience? Chasing the elusive LiL' Jimmy!

i’ve recently adopted 2 guinea pigs and i’ve had them for about 2 days, the first day i had them they were doing fine and i noticed one of them would get up on the other with no problem at all, this afternoon the other guinea pig wouldn’t let the other get on top of it anymore and it would started running away from the other guinea pig but it would chase it until they just stopped, the guinea pig that would go on top of the other after every altercation started making a clicking like noise

We’ve been together for just over a year and everything’s been really great. I just literally do not trust me, & I never have. I am in the middle of healing this as every man ever has made it feel impossible that I am worthy lovable all the things.
I am in therapy and doing the work. My therapist advised me that the only way to improve is to just give trust & the I my way to do that is to DO IT. So I have. However I just feel like everything cuts me so incredibly deeply. I am just a depth person, overthinking is my pass time unfortunately. I am trying to improve so bad all while asking myself if this person is right for me!
We’ve just had a really deep conversation about our relationship and if we were lying to ourselves about if we really wanted each other and he had to tell me first he was in it. I am in it. He is slightly controlling but nothing to be concerned about more like a sexy I am his woman type of way. But he contradicts that often when I have to tell him exactly what to do. He’s mentally just checking out & being distant. & that’s just causing me to be in this mentality of “whatever.”
So I’m acting single & doing my own thing. & in doing this I talk to my friends and I always use to say when I was single that it was my super power. But then I look at him from the outside & I know we are so young. And my goal is to build an empire with myself. To be kind and light hearted joyful, peaceful. I know I am a powerful woman. He is a powerful man. In fact he’s everything I once prayed for.
This “whatever” feeling is just stemming from us feeling like roommates. But I can’t help but understand it’s also propelling me into my dreams like single me would chase.
I have so much more I could vent I am just feeling lost.

So a few days ago I posted an idea in which the battle at the Department of Mysteries ended horribly for Harry and his friends, with Harry being the sole survivor and chasing Sirius through the Veil. From there, they would end up in a world where everyone magical they know or heard of was born 30 years later. It's still 1996 but in this world, Bellatrix Black is 15 and just finished her fourth year and is completely unlike her canon counterpart. My initial interest in the idea was how Harry would react to a teenaged Bellatrix Black who was essentially a very friendly, affectionate sweetheart of a person. She shares the face of a woman who became an utterly murderous monster, but the circumstances of her upbringing (namely a happy childhood with loving and affectionate parents) and how Harry would react to her initially and over time.
That's not what this thread is about, though, specifically. Another idea I had related to the prompt is that the magical population Sirius and Harry end up in has a lot more mages (the term I'm using to encompass wizards and witches as a whole) to the point that there is no Statute. Essentially, the world they're in superficially resembles a hybrid of the their world and the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender as the percentage of people who can actively use magic is somewhere between 10% to 15% of the magical world with squibs (Who for the purposes of this story and the mostly canon world Harry and Sirius hail from can perceive magic, enjoy most of the life span and overall health of mages, but have insufficient magic to express it externally. Some can charge runes, others who are more gifted can learn Occlumency and other internally expressed magical skills) about half again that number and numerous enough that everyone has some of the genetics that allow for the expression of magic.
Which brings me to the discussion about Harry Potter and Final Fantasy X. This isn't about a crossover between the two media franchises. Instead I had another idea, which is why this is a discussion topic. So here it is, for the sake of convenience, this world's culture is largely similar to our own and spawned its own gaming industry and its own Square who created the Final Fantasy franchise. This world's Final Fantasy X is the same in terms of its story and themes as the Final Fantasy X we know (Though the mechanics of its magic system could be very different in account of magic being, you know, real and the developers knowing this. Who knows, perhaps they consulted experts on combat magic on what spells to invent for the game.) which also includes Blitzball and how its played.
Which finally brings me to the point of this post. Would enterprising mages who played the game and love it look at the Blitzball minigame and think to themselves "yeah, I think I can make this work"? With Harry Potter magic, it could be very possible that someone, somewhere could look at Blitzball and think that they can turn it into a real sport. Thoughts? Which then brings another idea. Would someone one at Square, seeing someone attempting to make Blitzball into a real sport bring in lawyers and scream copyright infringement? Which could be a whole new can of worms to think about.
What happens when you have real life magic and mages who read fantasy and science fiction novels who decide that with their magic they think they can make fantasy or science fiction doohicky real with tweaks? For instance, imagine a magical cosplayer going to a con in full Jedi regalia complete with fully functional (though non-lethal) enchanted lightsaber? Or a talented Star Trek fangirl convincing her friend gifted in transfiguration to magically reshape her face to look like a convincing Klingon? But, yeah, what it boils down to is wondering what sort of shit really talented mages might come up with when inspired by the media they consume?
Ooh, here's a thought. In my original idea, everyone in Harry Potter canon would be born three decades later, which would mean the Marauders, Lily and Snape would all be around 20 to 21 years old when Final Fantasy X was original released. Imagine if some of them played the game when it came out. In canon, they were tremendously talented magically (even Peter who successfully became an animagus alongside James and Sirius) and likely quite ambitious. If this version of their world has no blood war going on, they would likely direct their talents to pursuits having nothing to do with war. I could imagine them being inspired to try to make Blitzball real (particularly James and Sirius who played Quidditch for Gryffindor). Could make for an interesting alternate universe vignette at least.

So I found out that The King's Avatar had sold cards in Taiwan (and the OP had said it's ONLY in Taiwan). Coincidentally, my friend is currently in Taiwan but I have no clue where you can find the cards. Anyone know which bookstore carries it?
Eslite and Kinokiuniya seem like possible options but I'd like to be sure before I send my friend on a wild goose chase LOL.

I am a new Dungeon Master and I was looking through the Dungeon Master's Guide for tips and found SO MUCH!
Something I thought about implementing was the Terror feature in which the squad would have to roll Wisdom to avoid being Frightened. I also loved the Chase feature, as well.
I wanted to hear your guys' experiences with these mechanics and if they are worth trying. Some say they are great while others think it's cheap.

International trip was delayed due to mechanical failure. Booked ticket with Chase preferred, so submitted a delay claim. The airline did put us in a hotel, but when I submitted the claim I said they credited us $0. I don’t have a hotel receipt but the claims rep is asking for one. I don’t want to lose all my other reimbursements because of this (approx $500)
Has anyone been in a similar situation? Advice?

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