Folding 36x48x29 table

I've been playing live since post-covid and have been trying to take it semi-seriously as a side income. I started out the first 1yr-18mths mixing it up between cash and MTT's, then the past 2yrs switched to solely live cash as my results were better in cash and I preferred the consistency and was struggling with the higher variance of MTT's.
The last month or two I decided to take a stab at MTT's again as there are quite a few good tournament series in area in the coming months.
In the first series which fired bullets in 4 tournaments, I had semi-decent results (a couple of deep runs, bubbled the $1500 3-day main event and final tabled 8th out 262 runners in a $300 2-day side event).
I guess my question is regarding how to maintain mental fortitude when it comes to MTT's and the sure fire feeling of dejection that comes after busting, esp when you've gotten the chips in way ahead. I think I can actually cope more with when I get the chips in behind and go out, because I can look at the spot and if I made a mistake, look to alter my play to avoid this leak/spot in future.
It's the many times where you get the chips in either as slight or more pertinently, massive favourite, yet you are the one walking to the exit. What is the best way to cope with this and not get disheartened. My last 5 exits from MTT's have all come when I've gotten my chips in either just ahead or as 2-1 or 85/15 favourite.
One most recent example where I got all the chips in on the flop as a big favourite, 68% / 32%.
I would like to go over this hand history as I'm wondering did I need to defend my BB this wide, and if I just fold pre would I have avoided a whole lot of unnecessary hardship.
So:
Blinds are 400/800/800.
I have main villain well covered with around 38k. Villain is 25k effective, the other two opponents in the hand have similar or slightly less than him.
Villain in UTG+1 opens to 2k with AdAc. MP calls, SB calls and I look down at 94dd.
Now I hesitate as to whether I should defend this 4 gapper in this spot, but the fact that it was suited and I only had to put in 1200 to close the action and see the flop in a near 9k pot leaned me towards completing.
I complete
Pot 8800. The flop comes jinn for me, 2d 5d 7d. SB checks, I check, Villain c-bets 2500, MP folds, SB folds.
I c/r to 10k ( I picked this sizing to be roughly half his remaining stack, to give him the signal that I ain't folding).
He promptly ignores my signal and jams for his remaining 22k total. I snap him off. Turn a brick and River the King of diamonds, see's the pot shipped to him and me on life support with around 13BB's as the blinds increase to 500/1k/1k.
Before the blinds get around to me I get them in on a flip and lose.
I suppose my question is two-fold.

1. Do I need to be getting involved in the hand defending with 94dd? Or does the fact I was closing the action and getting 7/1 pot odds make it a slam dunk call or is this hand to wide a defend facing 3 opponents?
   
   1. Once I do get involved, and get the exactly the type of flop I was hoping for, should I just jam when he c-bets. (This is not really the question, I think the villain in question probably snaps even if I jam, but maybe 🤔).

I ultimately think I'm fine with how I played it once I flop it like that.
My real second question is how do you deal with effectively exiting tourney after tourney like this over and over again without questioning your sanity and rage quitting MTT's altogether.
So was I too wide in defending my BB in this particular set up?
And, any MTT mental fortitude tips much appreciated.
Thanks in advance.

WARNING: This story contains strong language, mild violence & fictional political radicalism.
(Note, this story portrays the human side in a morally negative light. If you do not like that, then turn back now.)

ULJJAK KASERKOR, ANDZAKTAR, THE HOMEWORLD, ANDZAK EMPIRE, 11,772 A.C. 

Standing in the centre of the Andzak Governing District, in the heart of the Andzak Empire, is the Tree of Civilisation. While there is no direct translation into Human Standard, the meaning of the tree, including its name, stood for the long continuity of Andzak civilisation and the Andzak Empire.
Surrounding the tree were the marvellous palaces of the Imperial Government, the Imperial Advisory Council directly appointed by the emperor among them. The palaces were meant to be opulent and expensive, as if you were a lowly governor coming in from the Outer Provinces, the rows and rows of perfectly symmetric crystalline walls combined with the mirrors to allow the Andzak aristocracy to witness the superb influence of the Imperial Authorities.
Looking into those spotlessly clean mirrors was me, Deputy Governor Uljjak Kaserkor. According to Imperial audits of my activities, I am a "sub-par administrator, foreign to both the Andzak Empire and it's traditions, and the Andzak aristocracy" as Councillor Dlirij once said. In short, they've been looking for an excuse to exile me to a low-ranking advisory position on a third-band world out in the middle of nowhere.
And, as such, I am keeping this diary to myself, so in the event that Councillor Dlirij or one of his cronies tries to bring up charges against me, I am capable of fighting them effectively.
So, what am I doing, thousands of lightyears from my homeworld looking up at the Tree? I am here to report to the Advisory Council of an intense gamma-ray disturbance next to the uninhabited system of [UAG-2113]. Gamma ray disturbances of this scale usually mean the development and testing of superluminal weapons, which are severely restricted under the [Interstellar Accords].
Superluminal weapons are capable of obliterating entire solar systems if given enough energy. The most powerful superluminal weapon ever tested by the Andzak Empire vaporised 3 light-years of space, and fried every unprotected electronic within 117 light-years.
So this means it is understandable that the Empire might be concerned by yet another civilisation in hold of these excessively powerful weapons, especially if they don't know who has them, and they're being tested in the Centauran Reserves, an area that has barely been explored by the Empire due to the Centauran Pandemic a hundred years ago.
By my side, is the Military Advisor Vraxh Huljukrj. To be honest, we don't get along, and while I technically outrank him, stripping him of his rank would be an essential guarantee that the Regional Military Consul would be pissed. Vraxh has gotten into the Armed Forces through nepotism with the Consul.
"So you're bothering the Advisory Council with third-world bullshit just because one sensor buoy near a system nobody's ever heard of in the middle of fucking nowhere read some extra spicy particles?"
Vraxh, for whatever reason, still won't understand the severity of the situation, despite me having explained it to him at least a hundred times over the past 2 weeks we've been travelling here.
"I have explained this to you half a dozen times Vraxh, if you pester me about this decision one more time I will eject the rest of your belongings into space!"
To be honest, I haven't been particularly kind to him either. He kept bugging me with intentionally annoying overexaggerated questions over the 2 weeks we've been travelling here, so while he was in the bathroom, I ejected the bed in his room into the vacuum of space. While he wasn't amused, I found it incredibly funny.
"Okayy, fuck! Fine.."
Maybe I'll have even garnered his false support when the aristocrats in the Advisory Council wonder what I'm doing there.
Me and Vraxh right behind me walked up to the meetings desk. Behind the desk, is a short and relatively aged Andzakian in the uniform worn by imperial servants. He is looking at his holopad, appearing to have not noticed the two borderworlders at the desk. I attempted to grab his attention.
"Hello, sir?"
The imperial servant didn't appear to be surprised, and just looked up at the two with a condescending glare, confirming that he did infact know they were there, and just didn't pay any attention.
"Imperial Advisory Council case #1,714?"
He said the words sharply, as if he had already thought of them hours in advance.
"Yes, sir. A gamma ray disturbance in syste-"
"I don't care. Wait in the lobby, when you are called, arrive on time."
The servant interrupted me rudely, before pointing at a sitting area in the lobby.
I walked over to the lobby and sat down, with Vraxh reluctantly following me. After half an hour of awkwardly silent waiting, the loudspeaker in the lobby called,
"Uljjak Kaserkor and Vraxh Huljukrj, attend conference chamber C-1 immediately."
I immediately got up pulling Vraxh with me, before hastily making my way over to the conference chamber.
The guards at the door opened the heavy chamber doors with a loud thunk.
Sitting in the furthest conference seat was- god damn it, I shouldn't have come!
Sitting in the fanciest conference seat of them all, was Councillor Dlirij, with the biggest shit-eating grin I've ever seen.
"Deputy Governor Uljjak Kaserkor. What matters do you disturb the Advisory Council with this time?" Dlirij said, in generic aristocratic government drone.
I steeled myself with my own government training, before responding through nearly clenched teeth,
"Councillor Dlirij, thank you for coming to address my meeting."
Saying it was my meeting whilst also not using the formal address style was something I knew would piss Dlirij off, but thankfully he couldn't do anything about it according to the formal rules of the palace.
Indeed, Dlirij's grin reduced and he just looked me in the eyes, before saying,
"Deputy Governor, get straight to the point. What do you have to show me?"
I laid out a briefcase on the table, opening it and beginning to explain.
"3 weeks ago, an intense gamma event occured in the uninhabited system [UAG-2113], 3,679 light-years from the Homeworld."
I took a deep breath.
"As you would know as a Councillor, Councillor Dlirij, gamma-intense events in this fashion nearly always signal the activation of a superluminal weapon, legally considered an ultraintense weapon by the Interstellar Accords and thus prohibited for any Interstellar State to possess them aside from the Andzak Empire, the Union of Galactic Republics, and the Ksirlok Dependency."
I paused.
"I am requesting an Advisory Council initiated investigation into what caused the disturbance. If this is not achieved, it could be greatly threatening to the order in the Galaxy."
I then handed Dlirij the papers, which he started to look through.
In the silence while Dlirij looked through the papers, Vraxh had said nothing. I gave him a subtle glare for him to contribute, which he did. He reluctantly said, without thought,
"Councillor Dlirij, the Military Consulate will be the next to be contacted, if we do not succeed here."
I was not pleased with what Vraxh had said. He tried to challenge the Councillor's authority with a threat to go to the military establishment if we got nowhere here. I opted to remain silent though.
Dlirij looked at Vraxh with a glare of anger, before looking back down at the papers.
A few more awkward minutes passed, before Dlirij passed the papers back to me.
"So, you spend 2 weeks travelling to the Imperial Homeworld and the most honourable palaces of the Empire, with your little sidekick, just to bother me, Hasjaxhar Dlirij, with gamma radiation readings from one isolated buoy, nevertheless in the Centauran Reserves, where it has been proven by the Imperial Surveying Authority that there is no intelligent life?"
Dlirij's hand moved underneath the table.
"Councillor Dlirij, I believe you are mistaken by what I have given an explained to you, please-"
At this moment the guards burst through the door, before knocking us both out with the butt of their plasma rifles.
...

SEVEN FOUR EIGHT, NEW YORK CITY, TERRA, ALMIGHTY CELESTIAL STATE, 147 A.R. 

"...Comrades! On this date, July 16th, 147 years since the Revolution, humanity has taken yet another great leap under the leadership of the State. On this day, we have successfully detonated a superluminal weapon."
"A weapon that breaks the laws of the universe, a weapon that propels an object at thousands of times the speed of light, before dropping it back into realspace just before it hits its target. A weapon that, prior to today, the distant enemies of humanity cannot have dreamed of. A weapon that has just obliterated the Wolf 359 star system. Due to the ingenuity of our technology, not only do we get to witness the flash of our excellence, but we can also observe from this distance with our electronics intact!"
"Today, from this date, humanity is not only indivisible, but invincible! We, led forwards by the State, shall never be destroyed by those distant in the void, and our Black Banner shall soon fly on every planet in the Milky Way!"
The crowd cheered.
From my position, it looked fairly typical for a propaganda gathering. Soldiers surrounding the speaking Party official on a tall podium, with the Black Banner of the Almighty Celestial State flying calmly but sternly in the wind. Mounted to structures surrounding the gathering area are various slogans of the Celestial State, among them "HUMANITY INDIVISIBLE" and "THE STARS ARE OURS".
Truth be told, I am not an avid supporter of the ideology or the State. I come from a rural background in the middle of nowhere in North America, and have only joined the Armed Forces because the Party Militia showed up for their quota of soldiers.
In the State, all jobs are connected to, and thus in support, of the Armed Forces. While I was perfectly happy to continue living a solitary life with my family in rural America, I honestly didn't have much choice, and so here I am.
After the gathering, we are told to go back to our barracks and thus be assigned roles by the commanding officer.
I come through the door, and am immediately escorted to the commanding officer with two elite Party Militia members to my side.
"Soldier #7,487,782,311. Due to demand, you are being changed from Military Communications to Reconnaissance starting immediately. You will be transported to the Orbital Station, before boarding a Javelin class reconnaissance ship. The ship will not set sail into the void immediately, so the new crew can get accommodated."
"Got it, commissar. I will be ready in 5 minutes."
The commissar seemed to offer a pleasant nod, before stamping my identity card with the official Government stamp. It read,
"ALMIGHTY CELESTIAL STATE
#7,487,782,311
APPROVAL TO LEAVE THE MANHATTAN DISTRICT
ISSUED BY C.O. #2,349,522 - IF DISCREPANT CONTACT NUMBER ON SLIP"
I packed all of my belongings into a state-issued carrying pack.
Looking at how many belongings I have, pretty much just my uniform and Communication Device made me reminiscent for a time I never lived. How was the world before the Revolution? According to my family, the world was far better before the Revolution. They even had food that they could buy from private individuals, and not just State rations, which I find hard to believe.
The Communications Device had a light next to it's camera that blinked red every few seconds. This was to indicate that the camera was actively recording and watching me. I decided to stop thinking treasonous thoughts, and finished folding and packing my uniform, before taking my carrying pack with me.
After leaving the barracks, I walk past a building with the Emblem of the Celestial State painted on one of the walls, with artistic sunrays surrounding it. There are soldiers saluting the emblem, surrounded by armed party militia, while reciting the pledge of loyalty. I continue walking between two barracks towards the rocket area.
This base is lucky specifically to have it's own dedicated orbital rocket area. If I was stationed out west, I'd likely have to spend hours in the back of a troop transport vehicle being driven to the nearest site.
After a few minutes of walking down the bleak path, I reach the rocket area. There are people queuing to get in the rockets, and I join the queue. All of the soldiers infront of me look at the very least uncomfortable, and some look terrified. While looking ahead of me, a place ahead of me I see a vaguely familiar face.
"Eight one four, do I recognise you?"
His eyes go wide, and he recognises me almost immediately.
You see, this is a childhood friend of mine. Was my neighbour, in the rural countryside and the absence of the state, fuck, even when some parts were controlled by the Resistance, we could play forbidden games from the pre-revolution world.
I moved away from him probably 4 or 5 years ago with my family, which ended up being a mistake. It was in a larger community where the Guards showed up and conscripted me alongside a number of my family members.
"Yes, yes! I recognise you! An-"
Without even thinking, I cover his mouth with my hand.
"Don't!"
His face goes white and he realises the mistake he was about to make, and thus addresses me the proper informal way.
"Seven four eight, how have you been?"
"I've been decent. Can't say too much to be honest. Just bumbled around trying to look for something to do. Then I ended up here. You know how that's like."
Eight four one chuckles.
"Yeah, I know how it is."
We both tried to avoid treasonous language, which prevented us from having a meaningful discussion. It was nice to catch up though.
The line slowly moves forwards. I am close enough to the entrance of the orbital craft to hear a commotion ahead involving my friend.
"Soldier #8,142,327,494! Present your identity documents!"
The Soldier ruffles through his carry pack looking for his identity documents, and after a while, finds them.
"Eight one four! These documents do not have the commissar stamp!"
Two militia members point their service rifles at my unfortunate friend. I am enraged and know what is about to happen, but there is nothing I can do. I look around and see the guardsmen in the guards building, as well as a few guards snipers in watchtowers above us.
I helplessly watch as a third guardsman knocks him to the ground with the butt of his rifle, before he is hand and leg cuffed and escorted away. New militiamen come out of the guards building to take up their positions. I just silently hang my head, performing a neutral expression.
I arrive at the front of the line.
"#7,487,782,311! Your permission slip!"
I feel for it in the pocket in my pants, as that's where I left it.
Except, my pocket is flat, with no identity documents, I frantically feel inside the pocket, and do not feel them.
My face goes white and it feels like my knees are about to give way.
I look inside my carry pack with the guard giving me an intense stare. I find my documents, and hand them to the guard. He checks and verifies them, and I am let past. While walking past the guard, I hear over my shoulder from the other guard,
"Seven four eight. Do not forget the location of your identity documents next time. You know the consequences."
I walk aboard the ship without holding up the line, and sit down in a cramped troop transport seat. It wouldn't matter, entering orbit only takes a few minutes.
I look out of the orbit craft door towards my friend being escorted away into the distance, he gives me one final, depressed look, before him and his escort round the corner.
After a few minutes, the last soldier in the line is boarded onto the ship, and a loudspeaker voice calls to the gathering area that the ships will be leaving.
The landing door closes and the ship shudders. Due to the lack of windows, I have no idea what is going on outside. I am pressed back and down into my seat, as the ship accelerates into the sky.
The acceleration gradually slows until I can only feel the shudder of the ship fighting the atmosphere as it leaves. Gradually, gravity weakens and I begin to feel no weight in my seat.

EIGHT ONE FOUR, NEW YORK CITY, TERRA, ALMIGHTY CELESTIAL STATE, 147 A.R. 

As I round the corner, I see my friend's look on his face. Steeled sadness. I appreciated it in a world of no emotion.
The guardsmen around me had tied my leg cuffs too tightly but were also forcing me to hurry up and walk at their speed.
As I am forced underneath the temporary holding shelter, my leg cuffs are cuffed to a support beam of the structure. The guards then walk into the commissar's office, while a guard in a watchtower keeps an eye on me.
I see the landing ship my friend is on slowly start hover into the sky. Blue plasma shoots out of its 4 engine ports. It stops increasing in altitude, turns around and rapidly accelerates. I see it shoot off into the distance with a vapor cone around it's tail. The extremely loud rumble of it's engines slowly gets quieter and quieter, until it disappears from view.
The guards return from the commissar's office.
Both with neutral steeled expressions return to the shelter. I am held down and injected with a needle, and my vision slowly fades to black.

I had a spot today in an mtt final 2 tables that I really wasn’t sure of. 40bb effective
Utg raises, I call with AJo in HJ. sb over calls and bb completes.
Flop comes JT3 rainbow and sb donks for half pot. UTG calls and I call. Turn is an offsuit 7 and sb bets 2/3 pot. UTG calls again and at this point I don’t think my top top is good, putting SB on JT or a set of 3s and UTG on an overpair, so I fold.
River is again a blank and sb jams. UTG tank calls and shows KJ and sb shows Q9s for the missed straight. Did I misplay by folding the turn, or what should I have done differently?

I (22m) live with my cousin (22m). I had moved out since I was 20 into my own house that my dad bought my sister which evidently been handed down to me. My father paid off the house so all he gave me to worry about are the utility bills. The bills comes out to be 300 a month. I handle all the bills while my cousin just sends me through Zelle his portion. Other than that we share the cost of everything pretty” fairly”. I usually am the one to tell my cousin when he should be buying stuff like the necessities like toilet paper, paper towels, toilet bowl cleaners, etc. whenever he goes shopping, it’s only for what he thinks the house needs (usually only foods)
Routine: My cousin works 40 hours a week with some days of the week he may work 12 hours. He enters at 2pm and gets home anywhere between 10:30-2am. His routine is pretty much, wake up at 12pm, take a shower, get ready, get to work by 2am (only a 30 min commute due to traffic). When he gets home, he would pretty much smoke weed, play video games and finish off his night watching tv. Rinse and repeat every single day. He claims he can’t get adequate sleep.
Kitchen/ dishes issue: When it comes to chores, he is very poor when it comes to it. We had a routine where we would switch on and off who does the dishes by who did them last. Whenever I have dishes that I need to do, I tend to do all of them and clean the sink itself as well but when it’s his turn, he only does whatever he can in that free time being 1 sink and/or leave all the pots and pans left for me.(I have 2 sinks) we had multiple discussions where the dishes are becoming a problem because they pile up pretty bad to where they start to smell. He told me to let’s no longer do the “your turn for the dishes strategy” but just do the dishes whenever we can. Since last month, I had done the dishes 80% of the time as he never did them after he got out of work. It’s been dreadful as I know I am picking up the slack whenever he is not doing his 50%. Let me inform you guys that he is the type of person to leave the drain hole without the middle piece to prevent food from going down the drain because “it was clogging the sink”. There was a time where I told him that I will be cleaning out the fridge to which I did while he did the dishes and he left some for tomorrow to which it never got cleaned by him but instead piled on until the following week. I had told him 2 weeks ago that if he can clean the stove as there is buildup of grease/ oil and grime. As well as the microwave to which he agreed but he never cleaned the microwave and he did clean the stove but never washed / dried the shiny trim that is removable from the sink. Instead what he did was put it in the sink and left it there for 3 days until I told him to clean what he left.
Smoking Issue: Overall he is a person that has some respect for the house but he is living too comfortable I would say and is using my kindness to an advantage. I used to have a roommate which would throw get togethers every week or so and whenever she has multiple people over, she would feel like to smoke a cigarette inside the house without asking me. She didn’t do this on a daily basis but only whenever there are people in a party setting. I told my cousin to not do this and which he agreed. Soon after him moving in, he would smoke a blunt in his room which would make the house smell like weed and would occasionally creep into my room through the vents. I told him to stop smoking blunts / joints as it makes the entire house smell which he understood and began to smoke bongs only. I would say smoking a bong is 100x better than joints. Smells a bit but not where I am constantly thinking about it. As long as it does not smell like weed while I’m in the bathroom, room, living room, or kitchen.
Lawn: It’s starting to get warmer and I have paid 80 bucks for spring cleaning work from this landscaper and mentioned it to my cousin that we should go half and half. He disagreed and said we should work on it ourselves. I didn’t care about spending 80 bucks so I bought it and told him that I don’t expect him to pay half to just consider it me doing my turn in a way. Well it began to grow after a week pretty quickly and needed a trim again. Instead of me just tellling him “hey it needs a cut” I just cut it myself again after I worked 8 hours, a 10-6. After that I told him to cut it in 1-2 weeks and which he said okay but when it was getting closer to 2 weeks, he couldn’t cut the lawn as it began to rain and it was pushed back to 3 weeks. when he was cutting the lawn, he took separate days to cut the back and front and when he was cutting the back, he had asked me to buy a rack as there was a lot of grass ontop of the lawn and which I did. He ended up making me rack the lawn as we went out randomly to a bar that night. The lawn is pretty big, so I only did 30% and which he never finished the job. The next week being this past week, he had went outside to cut the grass as he just wants me and him to cut the grass as we go whenever one of us has the chance. That day we had a lot of dishes to do and the grass I had the ability to mow the next day as I had the day off. Overall I just am getting frustrated with the change of dynamics of how things were getting done as now it just seems like he wants to find someway of not doing work for a week or 2 consecutively rather than staying on a planned schedule.
Bathroom: The bathroom has been minor but yet just frustrating as whenever I use the bathroom, I always set up a new roll of toilet paper when I finish it into the holder and when I am drying my hands off with the hand towel, I hang it up neatly back where I had it placed. Now when it comes to my cousin, he does things differently. When he finishes the toilet paper roll, he leaves the old one in the holder and grabs a new one and leaves it infront of the toilet where I have a shelf at. I told him multiple times to just put the toilet paper roll in the holder where it belongs and he agreed but still ignored me. Finally after he lived there since October of 2023, he finally did it as of recently. Just once. When he washes his hands, he leaves the hand towel on the table when he can just put the hand towel up normally keeping the bathroom as it possibly can. Another thing which I take blame for my part is the leaving the clothes in the bathroom. There is a little space under the sink that can fit a laundry basket for dirty clothes and I use that area for my clothes after I finish the shower. It never sticks out or anything as I push it far back as possible. Whenever my roommate finishes the shower, he leaves his clothes in the bathroom maybe once every week being socks, shorts, underwear, socks by the toilet, by the sink, on the shelves. I take part blame as I do that as well. Not really something I complain about as whenever I see it, I just grab them and throw them in his room.
Tip of the iceberg: I had told my cousin to do a deep clean of the bathroom, while I clean up the kitchen and living room. I believed it was fair as he has not done a deep clean of the bathroom yet while me and my girlfriend (she does not live in my house, just sleeps here for a few days in a row) has cleaned it once each. We scrub the tub, walls, sweep the floor, mop the floor, clean the sink table and wipe down the mirrors. I had told him Sunday to do it and he told me he was going to do it next weekend with no given reason. I told him to do it whenever he has free time as it only takes about an hour and that he has no other chores as I made a bet with him to which I lost and have to do the dishes for the next 2 months (he claimed that I don’t have to follow through with that bet). I am frustrated because why can’t he complete it within the week? The bathroom is not that hard to clean as it just involves scrubbing and personally the tub is very disgusting. I wonder how did he not just want to be proactive. I personally wanted to wait until he decided to clean it but I waited over a month having the expectation that he wanted to clean it. I remember I bought the curtains for it and I know it will have to be replaced but personally I already know if I tell him to replace it, I would feel cheap and just feel guilty that I don’t want to buy the replacement. To me it’s just the principle of things that if I bought the first one, he buys the next and the cycle continues. He told me that he wants to hold the “big chores” for the weekend but I told him that I have the rest of the chores covered as I already partly cleaned the basement (we had a table full of clothes that we didn’t know what to do.) I cleaned the kitchen, and the living room. All he really had to do was fold his clothes and that’s it. I basically told him that that’s really his only chore that he has. I feel like a butthole just for me to tell him as soon as he can but I know he can wake up early being at 10am to clean it or something and go to work after or when he gets home from work to do work around the house instead of smoking pot and playing video games. If he couldn’t do the chore because of work then he could tell me but instead his immediate answer was “I’ll do them next weekend” not a “I’ll try before the weekend but it may end up being done at that time”. Am I just nitpicking? Should I be easier on him as he never lived alone? I feel like I have to tell him to do stuff around the house.

So, having found my way back to the wars after a long hiatus that has seen the fragmentation of my lance, the death of our war master and the birth of my children who wish to fight the clan scum along side Dad I have found myself in a somewhat unique'ish situation.
In the intervening decades I went and got myself trained as a 2d/3d draftsman and somehow acquired the skills and tools necessary to create sprawling environments.
The rub comes that we, my lance and I, were never into tabletop or miniatures, it was all hex graphing notebooks, tokens and "your imagination". And so, I am somewhat lacking in how do hexmaps "do".
So with a hex being 30m flat to flat, that yeilds ~780m² (technically 779.4229 but I'm willing to chalk it up to metrology error) per hex; the physics of a battlemech sharing a hex with infantry and mechanized infantry, armor and artillery etc makes sense: they are where the legs aren't but how many fit in a hex? Not like a breaching stack but how do we handle two friendly mechs transiting a hex, say the mouth of a canyon.
Next up, unlike our bubble verse timeline where we developed rectilinear architectural and grid based Cartesian mapping systems, I have to only assume that in the BT bubble, they developed a hexalinear system because why else would there be hexagonal natural features (unless of course the whole hexagonal water thing IS true?!?) and hexagonal building systems etc. I cannot see a system where 30m wide roads are the norm so do you all just develop a "square" urban/suburban/industrial space and lay a hex grid over it?
To tie this all together I have the capacity to do civil drafting in Autocad in 2d from a plan view, add elevation isolines and do some elevation extrusion to create actual terrain and/or create a simplified land form with a corresponding elevation profile, say a long run of valley flanked by hills and plains. Additionally, an urban system is simple enough to do on a NY grid, DC radian grid or even an old world grape bunch plan. Biome can likewise be shown via hatch patterns & colors and the whole thing could be displayed simply with iso lines for elevations on an E sheet.
Many jumps in the past I found that a number of coworkers were involved with the SCA and we did some work together which culminated in the preparation of a D&D hex map in plywood scaled to their miniatures and using model railroad trees etc. it was a mountain with valleys and some plains with forests all fitted to a folding ping-pong table. I'd love to do something like that again but I don't have free access to a cnc router and a growing pile of off fall anymore, I can schedule and pay for it but baby steps, gotta see how deep the lads wish to go first.

OOC: co-written with NotTooSunny
It was an ordinary day at the New York City Library. People wandered in and out of the building, unaware of the monster that lurked among them.
The only people who seemed to know the danger these mortals were in were Harper and Amon, who entered the building with glowing bronze swords at their hips. The bulky weapons seemed to have escaped the notice of the other library patrons, which was a good thing. The job description had made it clear that they were meant to remain inconspicuous in completing their task.
Harper had traded her usual bright orange camp shirt for a more discrete cropped black t-shirt and pleated pants. She had been insistent on coming up with a persona for them on the train ride from Montauk Station into New York City. They were meant to act as high school students researching for a World History paper on Ancient Greece. Now that they were inside the library, she had stopped her incessant rambling to peruse a riddle book, in what she had insisted was preparation for their job.
As they wandered through the bookshelves, she remained absorbed in the dog-eared children’s book, thumbing through the pages to find a riddle that would be fitting of a sphinx.
“Here’s one, Amon,” she said, narrowly avoiding a collision with another library patron as she read, “What is something that runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?”
The dark-haired son of Apollo glanced over from a shelf of dusty atlases, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “That is an easy one,” he replied simply. "River. Try me with something more challenging next time around." He adjusted the collar of his striped button down, which he had layered with a navy blue sweater in preparation for the chill of the air-conditioned interior.
“The real riddle is where we can find this sphinx,” Amon glanced around the spacious reading area, eyeing the dark wooden staircase with its ornate railings. “The boyfriend and girlfriend who tried this last time, they found her by a bookcase.”
“A bookcase,” Harper repeated derisively, closing her book to theatrically scan their surroundings. “That narrows it down.”
Ignoring Harper’s mockery, the son of Apollo paused suddenly, his dark eyes glazing over with concentration. His hearing dulled, the surrounding footsteps and rustling pages fading into the background as if muffled by a thick curtain. Amon searched for the energy signature of the monster he knew lurked among the mortals. It was a subtle shift, like trying to discern a whisper in a crowded room, but he felt a faint, abnormal energy hanging somewhere up above.
“I say we try the second floor,” he said as he snapped out of the tracking trance, offering no other explanation to Harper.
“We could do that, sure,” Harper said, words laced with blatant doubt at his sudden certainty. “I say we try asking the Visitor’s Center. I know she's supposed to be disguised by the Mist, but the librarians have to have noticed something.”
“You can go ahead and do that.” The small smirk from earlier was now spreading across his face. “But you can’t be upset if I find the sphinx and solve her riddle before you even get there.”
Harper rolled her eyes, but she made no attempt to stop Amon from walking towards the staircase. After a moment she set off after him, footsteps even against the wooden steps.
Up on the second floor, Amon moved quietly, his dark eyes scanning the hallway for anything out of the ordinary.
I know you’re up here.
He stopped at every heavy-looking mahogany door, peering through each muted glass insert. He felt the air grow thicker with ominous energy at every step, so he knew the monster must be near.
One of the doors was slightly ajar, a suspiciously open invitation. Or a trap. The dark-haired boy caught sight of a cat-shaped figure on the other side before ducking down and motioning sharply for Harper’s attention. He unsheathed his kopis from his belt, bracing himself for confrontation.
Harper crouched against the wall, hand on the hilt of her sword as she tried to peek through the frosted glass pane. She held her breath, ready to move at Amon’s signal. He held out three fingers and then put them down one by one. When he hit zero, they stood in unison, flinging the door open together.
When Amon and Harper stepped inside, the body of the sphinx lay motionless on the floor.
The rest of the room was in disarray, littered with disheveled chairs and broken bits of chalk. A window on the other side of the room had been forced open, the curtain fluttering in the wind.
“No way,” Harper said. The door clicked shut behind her as she pushed past Amon into the room and kneeled to study the monster’s limp figure.
The sphinx had the large body of a lion and the eerily human face of a middle-aged woman, hair tied back in a severe bun and foundation caked onto her high cheekbones. Fangs jutted out of her red-painted lips, and eagle wings sprouted out of the space between her shoulder blades, folded tight against her back.
“Monsters dissolve into dust when they die,” Amon remarked, keeping his distance as he watched the subtle rise and fall of the monster’s ribs. “She must have been knocked unconscious.”
“Right,” Harper agreed, “The real question is who. And why.”
She hovered a hand over the cat's shoulder, set on rousing her. Before she made contact, the sphinx's eyes snapped open, round irises surrounded by shocking yellow sclera.
"Slain!" she wailed. Harper staggered backwards. Amon’s arms instinctively reached out to catch her, but she didn’t stumble near enough to make contact. "I am slain!"
With feline grace, the sphinx rose to her feet. A white tape outline marked the placement of her previously prone body on the floor. The muscles in her legs rippled as she paced in front of Harper and Amon, massive velvet paws silent against the carpet.
"And you, my dear heroes," she roared, eyes narrowed in an accusatory glare, "were too late to save me!"
The sphinx sniffed, composing herself. She leapt onto a wooden table. The table legs creaked underneath her weight. "Fear not," she tutted, "Fear not. For you can still avenge me. If you are able to determine the murderer and their weapon, then I will obtain justice, and all will be right with the world.”
“Your riddle is a murder mystery,” Harper said, confusion written across her face. Amon raised an eyebrow. The sphinx chuffed, a low rumbling sound reminiscent of laughter.
“You sought that hackneyed question about man? The Sphinx that the storytellers remember is far less adaptive than I am. I am not interested in your ability to regurgitate the information you have read. Nor am I interested in taking advantage of the nonsensical rules of your English language.”
“I am here to satisfy my own curiosity: does modern mankind still possess the ability to engage in deductive reasoning, or do they only seek to make themselves appear intelligent? Do not speak,” the sphinx said, a pointed look at Harper, who had opened her mouth to interject, “You will answer my questions when you play my game.”
“The potential murder weapons are scattered throughout this room,” she continued, leaping off the table. “And the suspects have already provided their testimonies for your review. Rest assured, I have made certain that their statements contain no lies.”
A shimmering, translucent energy began to swirl around Harper and Amon’s feet, beginning to take shape as holograms with a flickering, ephemeral quality.
A projection of Cerberus materialized first, his three massive heads snarling and snapping in unison. A ribbon of text appeared by his paws to translate his growling: "I was guarding the entrance, my duty unbroken."
Next came the Minotaur, his towering form pacing within the labyrinth on Crete. He snorted and pawed at the ground, the holographic maze shifting behind him in the background. The translation text appeared: "Confined within these walls, no escape for me."
Lamia's projection flickered into view, her serpentine lower half coiled around her as she wept in her cave. She glanced mournfully at the holographic images of her lost children: "My grief consumes me, innocent of this crime."
A shimmering Hydra emerged next, its nine heads snapping at invisible foes. Each one moved independently, showcasing its ability to act on its own. The translation for the hissing head at the center read: "Engaged in battle, I could not have killed."
Typhon materialized with a thunderous roar, his colossal form fighting against restraints under Mount Etna. His immense size and power were palpable, even in scaled down holographic form: "Bound by chains of the earth, I could not have roamed free."
Echidna’s hologram appeared last, her form a mix of human and serpent, lounging in a dimly lit cave. She looked directly at the viewers, her expression both defiant and amused. The translation text by her side read: “I dwell in my lair, uninvolved in such petty affairs.”
The sphinx swiped at the last projection as it faded, deeming her handiwork satisfactory. “There is not enough information to deduce the killer using evidence alone. Because I am fair, I will provide you with three hints before your final guess. Be forewarned: if you fail to provide a correct answer, you will both perish. Is this understood?”
Harper spoke. “If we answer correctly, you will leave this library for good.”
“If you answer correctly, I will permanently relocate. It is a preferable option in comparison to another death. Now, do you agree to the terms and conditions?” the sphinx said primly, regarding Harper and Amon with casual disdain. The pair nodded. “Very well.”
The sphinx dropped onto the floor and let her head loll back, pretending to be dead once more.
Hint #1

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

Soon after the Sphinx had laid back down, Harper and Amon began to scour the room. A small pile of prospective murder weapons formed on a nearby table.
“We can easily eliminate the siren song,” Amon rushed to speak over Harper, eyeing the small glass vial of swirling gray matter that they had found nestled behind a row of books on metalworking. “It is a luring mechanism, not a murder weapon.”
“We could rule out Cerberus’ fang too,” he pointed at the enormous yellowing tooth, about the size of the small baseball bat Amon used to have when he played in the little league. “If we take the hologram as ground truth, all of his teeth were intact there.”
Harper used her kopis to prod at the stained tunic that had been hidden in a desk drawer, being careful not to touch it with bare skin. “The Shirt of Nessus is a viable option. It would be easy for any of the suspects to lay it down and wait for the hydra venom to kick in.”
“I am not ready to rule out the bronze sword either,” Amon noted. “Monsters have access to heroes and the weapons they leave behind.”
“Most of these monsters don’t even have opposable thumbs,” Harper argued, running a hand over the sword they had found by a power outlet. ”They don’t have the dexterity to wield a sword.”
“I do not imagine that the technicality would be that granular.”
Harper laughed. “Oh, the number of teeth in the Cerberus hologram tell all, but we’re drawing the line at opposable thumbs.”
“I suppose that that logic would also rule out the harpy talon and the encyclopedia easily as well,” Amon admitted. “Which would be too easy.”
“I’m just that good at logical deduction.” Harper said proudly. “If my assumption is correct, then the poisoned shirt is the only one that makes sense.”
Amon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest as his dark eyes bored into Harper. “It would not necessarily matter what our first guess would be anyway.”
“Can you provide an argument for any other weapon? Or are you intent on purposely making an illogical guess?” she countered cooly.
“Fine,” Amon acquiesced. “Since you are so adamant about the shirt, we can guess the shirt, and be incorrect. It does not matter. What about the suspects themselves?” He clasped his hands behind his back, his steps measured as he started to pace across the plush red carpet of the room.
Harper smiled, smugly accepting her victory. She strode towards a chalkboard at the side of the study room, inscribing the list of weapons and suspects with a fresh piece of white chalk.
“All of them have alibis,“ she began. “I think that-”
“Some make more sense than others,” Amon spoke over Harper, irritated by her minor triumph. “Cerberus, for example, is under the service of Hades. He says he did not leave his post, and he could not have done so without permission or dire consequences on the process of the dead.”
Harper silently seethed as Amon spoke, meeting his rationale with reluctant acceptance before starting again in a louder, exaggerated tone. “I think that the ones with the shakiest alibis are Lamia, the Minotaur, Typhon, and Echidna. No witnesses can confirm their locations. In fact, Lamia provides no location at all.” Harper circled those names. She looked at Amon with a forced smile, allowing him a moment to provide more commentary.
“Lamia? Well,” there was a hint of mockery in the sneer that tugged on the corner of Amon’s lips. “I would imagine her emotions rendered her… Too fragile and unstable to carry out such an act.”
“You’re kidding,” Harper scoffed, searching Amon's face for the slightest hint that he was joking. “Her grief is what moved her to kill children in the first place. I doubt it would suddenly be incapacitating. She’s just appealing to your sense of superiority, and I can’t believe that you’re falling for it.”
"It is not about superiority. It is about logic," Amon retorted, bristling in defense. “You cannot deny that emotions cloud judgment. Maybe the sphinx wants us to leverage our knowledge about her past crimes to reason that she was not thinking clearly in this case either.” Amon had no other evidence that pointed towards Lamia as the top suspect, but he had dug deep enough where he was now ready to stand firm in his reasoning.
“Murder,” Harper countered, eyes narrowed in a venomous stare, “-does not require you to think clearly. Haven’t you heard of a crime of passion? If anyone’s judgment is clouded right now, Amon, it’s yours.”
The son of Apollo squared his shoulders, his expression hardening. "I understand the concept of crimes of passion, thank you.” His dark-eyed stare returned Harper's gaze, unflinching at the intensity. “But our investigation must be rooted in facts, not assumptions based on emotions. And the facts are,” he resumed his pacing once more, “that Lamia cannot be the culprit, as she is the only suspect that openly admits to being innocent of this crime.”
Amon had considered this from the very start, but provoking Harper like this had proved to be far more amusing.
Harper crossed Lamia’s name off of the board. She swallowed down her anger, fighting the urge to continue pressing the issue in favor of returning to their list of suspects. She pointed her piece of chalk at the next names on the list. “The Minotaur and Typhon are trapped, or so they say. How could they have done anything?”
“Their alibis revolve around their inability to escape,” Amon pointed out. “Not that they were unable to commit murder. The Labyrinth, in fact,” he raised a dramatic finger, “has several moving passages that could have permitted the Minotaur to move and commit murder without an official escape.”
Harper considered his words for a long moment, trying to find the flaw in his reasoning. Seeing none, she placed a dot next to the Minotaurs's name.
“Typhon escaped his prison in the Second Titanomachy. He could do it again,” Harper said thoughtfully. “Though I don’t understand why he would do something like this. He’s the Sphinx's father. The same goes for Echidna.”
Amon, who had been nodding at Harper’s assessment of Typhon’s abilities, pursed his lips at her observation of parentage. “I do not see how this could possibly be relevant to the logical puzzle at hand.”
Harper spoke slowly, as if the answer was obvious. “What motive would they have to kill their own daughter?”
“Harper,” Amon began curtly, folding his arms across his chest. “Half of the Greek myths revolve around immortals killing their own children.”
“Then we should pick one of them,” Harper declared, pivoting her argument instead of admitting her logical blunder. “They would have more of a motive than the rest of the suspects, if anything.”
“The Minotaur can escape much more easily than Typhon can. Motive aside, it is the most logical guess,” Amon concluded, adjusting his collar haughtily. “I will remind you that we picked your choice of weapon. It is only fair that I select the monster.”
“Fine.” Harper agreed, her gaze stormy as she turned back towards the sphinx. “We accuse the Minotaur of killing the sphinx with the Shirt of Nessus.”
The sphinx opened one eye. “None of these are correct!”
Hint #2

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Two more hints left.” Harper announced, crossing off the Minotaur’s name and the poisoned shirt on the chalkboard with a flourish. It was not ideal that her initial logical deductions had been incorrect, but at least Amon had also been wrong. She couldn't resist a snide comment. “I knew it wasn’t the Minotaur.”
“So you still think it’s Typhon.” Choosing to ignore Harper’s taunting, Amon rested his hand on a nearby desk, studying the lists on the chalkboard before him. He had taken the Minotaur error as a personal failure, and was determined to get the suspect right this time.
“I do.”
“Why not Echidna?”
“She’s too emotional to kill someone, obviously.” Harper said sarcastically. “Her frail female arms are probably too weak to even hold a weapon.”
The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Objectively,” he began, ignoring her quip once more, “Typhon could not have lied about his inability to roam free. A natural disaster freed him from Mount Etna during the Second Titanomachy, but he could not recreate those conditions on his own.” Though his tone remained aloof, it was clear that Amon was relishing in the opportunity to flaunt his mythology knowledge.
“Maybe,” Harper argued, stubborn. “But Echidna’s statement was less ambiguous than his. Typhon just explains his predicament; he doesn't provide a real claim. Echidna explicitly says she was not involved.” She thought for a few more moments, rolling the piece of chalk in her hands. “Echidna could have released him? They would be accomplices.”
Amon shook his head. “There was a single murderer. Not two. The sphinx would not lie about the premise of the game.”
Harper stared at him coldly, but could offer no rebuttal. She turned her attention to the board. “Typhon is a giant. He’s capable of using the sword.”
“But the specificity of Echidna’s denial is still incredibly suspicious. ‘Petty affairs’ is a strange way to phrase a murder. But,” Amon added reluctantly, “I understand the logic behind Typhon. I suppose it is your turn to choose the monster, and we will still have another guess to work with.”
“As for the weapon,” he continued, “I still think the sword is the most viable option, given that the siren song and the fang can be ruled out and the shirt with the venom was, well,” Amon pursed his lips, fighting the urge to smile, “incorrect.”
Before Harper could interject, Amon turned towards the sphinx at the front of the room. “We accuse Typhon of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword.”
“One of these is correct!”
Hint #3

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Aha!” Amon raised a triumphant finger before pointing it at Harper. “I told you,” he gloated, “Typhon had no escape route.”
“You were right,” Harper admitted, staring down at the carpet so that she would not have to look at his smug expression.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, and turned back towards the lioness with crossed arms. “We accuse Echidna of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword”
“One of these is correct,” the sphinx announced. Her mouth twisted in amusement, fangs bared in a menacing smile.
READ PART 2 HERE

So, I've kind of posted about this in other threads, specifically on askreddit, but by some users request, I will do my best to fully relay this entire tale up to the current point, as well as provide as much context I am able (and will provide missing context if asked in comments).
TL;DR
A friend of mine of 4 years drank himself into liver failure and his wife cheated on him, so I offered him a free room to try and put his life back together, and I was repaid for the thought with a divorce of my own, but honestly, it's probably not that bad.
Part 1: CONTEXT
Me and my wife have been together since early 2014, and married in late 2017. We have been through much together, including two extended deployments, one of which was 10 and a half months long. We have traveled the world together, lived on both coasts of the US, and despite much of our struggles and how things eventually went down, I was always convinced we would work as a team to overcome any issues.
The friend in question was, largely, an online friend. We met playing an MMO during covid and we quickly formed a very tight knit, but small, community that were very close that included me, my wife, my friend, his wife, and 4 other friends. Covid was a wild time and I was surprised how easy it was to form friends in this group and we kept in touch, as a whole, even once quarantine had ended and most of us had moved on from that particular game. This was a group that, while it started online, we have met most of these people several times IRL and had vacations to spend time together and just hang out.
Part 2: His Problems
Fast forward to about January of 2024. My buddy, from here on out I will refer to as Z (and for a quick add, I will refer to my wife as D), contacts us to tell us his condition is dire and he has been diagnosed with stage 4 cirrhosis of the liver as a consequence of his extensive drinking. Shaken, we quickly charter a flight out to visit. Within a week, we're staying with him and his wife and his roommate and a couple members of his family who are taking care of him. This man is bloated, yellow, and probably about 350lbs now. We are worried, but stay supportive and positive that help can be found, especially since he seems keen on changing his lifestyle for the better. Some of his family start a gofundme that we donate to, and many of the people in our gaming circle who have grown close also donate several thousand dollars (One member of our raid team donated 10k. You never know who is stealth rich on the internet I guess). Me and several other friends discuss the possibilities of helping him get on disability and even getting ourselves tested as compatible living donors. Sad, but hopeful, we depart about a week later, and stay in constant touch.
About a month later, I'm getting a call from one of our mutuals letting me know that "Hey, so I may have goofed up." and tells me how Z's wife had visited him and had a 3 way with him and his wife. I am obviously irate at this and turn to back Z up with comments like "So much for in sickness and in health, huh?" I do what I can to stay supportive, and my wife, D, also makes it a point to stay in touch with him as he has found himself banished to the couch of his apartment. Not even allowed to sleep in his own bed and frequently uncomfortable even being in his bedroom to use the PC.
I'm not particularly rich, but I am not poor either. I served in the military and have a high VA rating which means a constant income and have a steady job and a couple side gigs that pay well enough. My love language, in many ways, is gift giving. I pride myself on being able to pick a good gift, even if it's a little early for an occasion such as a bday or christmas, and will often pull the trigger on something if it means a lot or I think it will help. In this case, my brother was selling an old steam deck because he wanted a new OLED model, so I figured "two birds, one stone", and buy the steam deck off him and send it to Z so we can still game together.
In the intervening months, Z and D start playing games that I have no interest in (Disney Dreamlight Valley), but I am happy to play other games and hang out and chat. Really, nothing seems amiss, but since his banishment, me and my wife are both pushing for him to come and take up the spare bedroom we have in our home. Soon enough, I buy him a plane ticket and he arrives with little more than the clothes on his back and we take him in, no cost other than the expectation that he might help around the house a bit (he was a chef, so having a cook and someone to help clean was ideal for me who often did not have the time or energy to handle these tasks as thoroughly as I would like).
Part 3: The Incident
Now, I am skipping ahead a little bit here, but there's not much to be said about the time between. My wife worked part time hours, and when she did go to work, she'd have him tag along just so he wouldn't "Sit and stew with bad thoughts" at the house alone. I will admit that throughout this entire ordeal, I have had several, several times where my brain tried to warn me, but I ignored ALL of those signs because I trusted him, but more importantly, I trusted her with my life.
One new, frequent argument I found myself having with her was she would fall asleep on the couch, and when I finally tried to go to bed, I'd do my best to wake her and drag her upstairs. These became extremely frequent occurrences and I expressed to her how frustrated I was that I had to fight with her just to come to bed so we could sleep (mind you, this is not even about sex. Often I'm taking her to bed at like, 1am and I work at 7, so I really just wanted her to be sleeping in the bed). Hell, one time, I started catching the vibes that the longer I sat and waited for her to be ready to go upstairs, she just never would be, because they were waiting for me to leave so they could talk in hushed tones. On THAT particular night, I went upstairs alone with her finally awake, and she did not join me for another half hour.
Finally, the day arrives. Its Sunday. We are all downstairs hanging out. One of their newest habits I can't really stand but just dealt with is that she'd sit and crochet while he doomscrolled or strummed on a guitar I bought him and listen to music videos on youtube endlessly. Eventually, I grow weary and give my wife a kiss and tell her I'm gonna go upstairs and play some GW2 for a bit.
About an hour passes, and she enters the game room and tells me "I am uncomfortable. I really need to talk to you. Oh, you're dying!" (As she entered the room, I immediately turn face to talk to her and disregard the game, but she decided that my Charr was more important that what was about to happen, so she of course warns me.) We step into the bedroom and close the door.
"You're going to hate me," she says through tears, "me and Z kissed!" At this point, my brain short circuits and I recall one of my first thoughts being "Oh lord, here we go." and just a general desire to not be a part of this conversation. Shock sets in almost immediately. Still with a healthy dose of denial, I talk to her about what had happened and told her that it needed to end. Even at this point, I did not want to send this man home. Was it shock? Denial? Probably a mixture of the two, or some other additional emotional responses. She gets up after some discussion and goes downstairs, promising to shut him down, but comes back about 15 minutes later sobbing "I couldn't do it! I couldn't end it..." (Side note: In my confused haze of a mind, I feel personally threatened, and after she leaves the bedroom, I lock the door and grab a metal water cub I keep at my side and prepare to actually fight if it comes to it, but once she returns, I back off that idea again.)
Talking with her more, I present her with two options; Couple's therapy, or divorce. BOTH of these options are world ending to her, and she even goes so far as to suggest that just because I said the "D word" that it was what I wanted, which was objectively untrue. We talk back and forth about things I don't quite recall at this point, aside from one point where she comes back and locks herself in the master bath and tells me to call 911, she doesn't care, because she's going to take a bunch of pills, but after a couple of hours, Z shows up to the door and knocks and asks if he can come in. I tell him he may enter, and we talk for a bit. After about 5ish minutes, we decide to go downstairs to the living room and continue the discussion.
Once I sit down on the sofa, I immediately feel like I'm being positioned as the bad guy. I'm in the corner of our sectional, and she's on my left, he's on my right. She tells him "He said it's either a divorce or couple's therapy." "Oh, so he gave you an ultimatum?" I continue to argue that yes, those are the two only options. Z tells me "You're not being fair to her emotions. She is telling you there is another option." I am thoroughly baffled at this statement.
D: I didn't think it was possible and I didn't mean for it to happen, but I have fallen in love with another man. My heart has room for two. I truly have two soulmates. I have never been happier than sleeping on the couch next to my two boys.
Z: There is no reason you guys can't stay married, and we can explore what we've found. I mean, look at how happy she has been since I have been here!
Sick to my stomach, I get up to go vomit in the toilet. Now, I wore a silicone wedding ring, and often find even with a hand wash, a little water tends to get trapped under it. After I finish and wash myself up, I come back and am playing with my ring to dry it. She sees this as a sign that I am uncomfortable again wearing my ring, and takes off her ring as I sit back down and hands me her wedding ring.
Me: Uh, excuse me?
D: This is what you want, I can tell.
Me: No? I was washing my hands and water gets stuck under my ring...
D: Oh... I thought... okay. (And she takes back her ring from me)
I tell her, very clearly, the options are to either end things with him, or end things with me. At this point, I'm still in shock, but sober in mind enough to decide that this is not worth fighting over. I will not argue with my own wife my merits or why she shouldn't just pack up and leave with a jobless, now essentially homeless man, and if she cannot figure that out herself then I will eventually move on.
Crying, sobbing, she sits down in front of him and says, "I'm so sorry, I fought for you. I really did. I told you I'd fight for you and I failed. I loved being your girlfriend, but I need to be a good wife and stay."
Z says "Alright." and starts to go gather his things to leave. As he does, she grabs him and says "No, wait! Please don't go. I don't know what I want."
Z: Ok, well if we're getting all this out in the open, I want to say this. I love this girl. I love her with my whole heart, and without her, life is not worth living. I will not leave this house if you (me) tell me to. Only her. You are taking this very well right now, I can tell you want to hit me (Still in shock, no, I can genuinely say that emotion or thought had not actually registered outside of the event upstairs earlier), but this is my stand.
D: OP, we had a good run. I'm sorry.
And with that, I get up and go to get my sandals and leave the house to get some air. As I try to go, she runs to the door and he follows her. She pushes the door closed and says "No wait, please!"
Me: No, this is the deal. I'm going out to get some fresh air. I am not threatening self harm to "win you back".
D: Will you be back?
Me: I don't know.
Z: Man, I'm telling you, you don't understand, you think I am your enemy, but I am not.
And with that, I leave and shut the door.
In the about, hour, I am gone, I drive around near the house and I call my supervisor who I have a very good relationship with (and I did not want to involve direct friends or family yet because I'm afraid it's too early to start spreading this news). I go over to her house nearby and we chat shortly. After our talk, I have at least something of a clear head and go home, with words for both of them.
As I arrive home, there is no one downstairs. I go upstairs. His door is closed. I knock on the door.
Z: Uh, one second.
I wait for about 5 agonizing seconds, but I refuse to be shut out of rooms in my own home and open the door. He is shirtless, and she is hiding in the corner just out of sight of me. I look him in the eye.
Me: Really?
Z: Yep.
Me: Get out of my house.
And with that, they both silently pack their things and leave.
The second I hear the front door close, I start calling people. I am not above pettiness, and the first person I call is her mom, whom I have a good relationship with. She is SHAKEN and immediately calls her. (I find out later that it was a particularly harsh verbal beating by her, but it really doesn't change anything.)
When I come downstairs to check the state of the house, I see her wedding ring on the counter. I call out of work the next day and lay down and hope I die.
Part 4: Her Problems
So, there is some additional context that I did not add in part 1 because a lot of it is red flags I ignored over the course of our relationship that, in the days following, started to become more and more obvious. There are many that I spent much effort playing off or covering her for, but I will try to briefly list much of what I see as glaring issues in the relationship that were never remedied.
This woman is 30 years old and cannot drive. She can drive and HAS driven my vehicle at the start of the relationship (albeit illegally), but after one tiny little accident where she hit a pole and knocked my side mirror off (which she paid for and fixed before telling me, it really wasn't a big deal. I was on deployment), she never drove again. Attempts to get her behind the wheel would end very quickly after they started, and the conditions to get her in the seat were often extremely time limited, scheduled, or something would come up, and every time I told her "okay, this month we're getting your license for sure" it just wouldn't happen and I'd end up feeling like the one who was at fault.
She does not have her Bachelor's degree because she did not turn in her final project for one single class. Not only that, but she has never truly pursued a career with the things she learned from the coursework, or even used her AA.
For half of the relationship, she did not work at all. When she did, it was often part time work, and if she was saddled with full time hours or, god forbid, overtime, it was a world-ending affair. She would come home and constantly be tired from her few hours at work and would do little more than sit around and crochet.
Our agreement when we bought our house was that she was going to work full time and we were going to split household duties, but I would definitely scoop the cat box because she was allergic (but she wanted cats) and wash dishes (because she hated them), and she would do laundry (because I hated it). In practice, all her version of laundry turned out to be was to throw loads in when one of us was out of clothes and just hit wash and then rotate, and then leave all the clothes in a pile on the bed. EVERYONE KNOWS folding the laundry is the worst part! Come on! Men's clothes are easy! I don't wear that much! (When we would fold, I often finished in a third of her time and would just hang out and chat until she was done)
Ultimately, this meant that for many years now, she was working barely more than part time if she was working at all, and would sort-of do laundry. Meanwhile, I am scooping litter, folding laundry, doing dishes, doing all related yard work, doing all the household cleaning, handling all the finances, I did MOST of the cooking, and all of the grocery shopping (often going alone), driving her from work if I could (she'd uber it if not) and picking her up and driving her home, as well as just generally being a chauffeur for her for 10 years, while working a full time job and a side gig online. Many nights I'd have to stop what I was doing to pick her up at closing hours, and then would sit in the parking lot for 30 minutes while she did tasks like vacuum her little crystal shop that she definitely could have done before close so I didn't end up waiting so damn long. Then we'd come home hang out and eat while we watched TV, and then if I wanted to try and go upstairs to do another hobby, I'd be silently guilted about it because she wanted to sit on the couch and crochet.
Part 5: My Problems
I am not perfect, and admit I have flaws. One of her favorite things to claim to our friends now is that I was "emotionally neglectful", and if there is truth to it, I think I can pin down the day. Before I started working full time again, I was going to school on the 9/11 GI bill. I was not a good student in my younger years, but in time, I have become rather good at school. My first two semesters back I easily maintained a 4.0 GPA. Over the summer in 2022, I, woefully, decided to take a Calc 2 class online because I could not find one in person and wanted to be ready for Calc 3 in the Fall to fill a prereq for my bachelor's, and I really liked the instructor for that Calc 3 class. This calc 2 class was painful. The instructor had clearly recorded all his lectures during Covid and we were simply given the full course of videos and given work assignments and said "Email me if you have questions." This is not how I learn, but I figured, hey, it's one class. I'm working again, but one class isn't a huge deal. I can knock this out.
I was wrong.
After the second exam, I had a low C in the class and I knew I couldn't keep up. I withdrew from the class feeling no other option. I tend to be pretty good at math, and ultimately my dream was to work with 3d printing on an industrial scale with a Mechanical Engineering degree- and if that failed I had my military history (which is engineering relevant) and a degree to fall back on and work should come easily. After clicking that withdraw button, I saw those dreams vaporize. After that, I threw myself into my government civilian job full time and slowly fell into depression. By the end of our relationship, with the toll of doing 99% of the work around the house and for her and with my dreams dead and buried, at age 33, I would wake up and pray I died. I would never kill myself, but I wanted to just die. I felt backed into a corner. I still did everything I could to support her and hoped that one day, she would pick up some of the load and maybe, just maybe, I could go back, but that day did not come (At least not in the way I expected).
Part 6: The Aftermath
This post is already too long, and if I include every single detail that has come to light since, I might actually hit the post cap, but I will go over at least some of it here.
I have had my friends come out in droves. Both of them have been effectively exiled, at least from what I can see, from every friend circle we have. After a couple of days, they flew back to live with, I guess, his parents in Vegas while they sorted shit out, because after I spoke with Z's previous roommate, he adamantly explained he was tired of all the "fucking drama" that Z had been bringing into the house and was just done with it.
I have spoken with many, many people and gotten even more context and even receipts of some of each of their conversations to our mutual friends, and some of the shit I read is just hilarious. He is "not ashamed of pursuing happiness, he is just sad that people got hurt". She is "coming to terms with emotional neglect and felt trapped, but now, yes now, she is free."
I got my neighbors to watch the cats, and took my dog up to visit my closest friend of 20 years and spent about a week and a half drinking, smoking, and talking about all this while surrounded by some of the most beautiful nature the US has to offer. Truly, without this man, I don't think I'd have gotten this far as quickly as I have. He really has been a lifesaver and I truly, to my dying day, will always appreciate him.
Paperwork has been filed, we wish to remain on good terms, and one day I still do hope I can be a friend to her, but she is woefully immature and incapable of adequately performing in an adult society. I have quit my job and am returning to school with a much lighter budget and will be getting that degree I desperately need.
It's been hard, real hard. I have put every ounce of my being into this relationship, and I truly felt like she was part of me, and nothing like this could ever happen. But it's that trust that allowed this to happen. I do not hate her, I'm just disappointed. I will pick up my pieces and, hopefully, find myself whole again soon.
Part 7: Rambling anecdotes
These are some stories I wanted to include in the previous body of text but didn't feel like it kept the same flow (if there even is any at all, I'm not proofreading this). If I remember any others after I post, Ill just toss them in the comments.
Early after Z came to live with us, my mother came to the house to drop off a package. I am pretty sure I was at work, but when my mother came to the door, both of them answered the door and the way my mom describes it "First of all, do you answer the door at your friends house? Also, the way he hovered over her made me uncomfortable. They were in the doorway and he was right up behind her poking his head out." She said my wife had told her that I was feeling unwell and was upstairs sleeping. I can't even be sure at this point.
Shortly before all the things happened, my parents were going out of town to celebrate their own anniversary, and I had agreed to dog-sit their 5 month old puppy (who, while cute, has WAY too much energy and was EXTREMELY difficult to handle, and I have raised several dogs at this point). We met up and took the dog, and then ALL of us (including Z) went to dinner. At dinner, my mother looked at my wife and asked, directly "And so how long have you been married? 6, almost 7 years? Well at least you missed that 7 year itch, huh" and my wife shortly followed with a comment about how she was not hungry and did not eat dinner that night.
All of this happened WHILE THIS CRAZY PUPPY was running around the house, and part of me thinks he pushed this to happen when it did because he could not stand having to help take care of this dog any longer (2 days).
About a week after all this happened, my wife did not text or call me, or respond to any messages or emails I sent her (I didn't send many, but they exist). Frustrated, I text her and tell her I need to talk to her about logistics moving forward, specifically about her belongings. She told me "I will talk to you when I am ready." We did not talk for another week. Also, she told me to stop talking to her mom. (I have a good relationship with both of my in-laws and while her step-father tried to remain impartial to the best of his abilities, he gave me some of the best advice I could possibly have gotten at that time, mostly about how to move forward and cope, as he has personally dealt with this with smaller relationships 3 separate times in his life which he gave me details on, and we are still on good terms.)
Their favorite TV show to watch together was Outlander, which, if you aren't aware, is basically a story about a woman who time travels and has two men in her life.
One of our biggest constant points of contention was my friendship with an old high school buddy (who I spent much of the time in the aftermath hanging out with while healing). We believe, with good reason, that she hated this man because after I had almost been hospitalized for psych reasons due to stress, he had told me I needed to talk to her about working again and doing more to help around the house. She figured out, obviously, who was telling me to say these things, and sent a very, very angry text to his wife. They all apparently made up, but I know she never let that grudge go.
One of the fairly recent hobbies I got into was D&D. It seemed like a good fit for all of us. She loved fantasy and gaming, I enjoyed 3d printing and story telling. She needed friends, and a party of people hangin out would give her at least a few connections to start. Every night she "participated" in D&D, she mostly sat quiet and did not do anything. Hell, I tried to get her to participate in 2 different games, and after she left the first one, she asked to just sit quietly in the discord call (This first one was online only, second was in person) and listen, which was super awkward. In the in person game, after 3 months of playing, she did not know how to play her character at all, and mostly spent her time at the table crocheting. (My buddy even made a comment about how at one point, he was proud of how good I was getting at DMing and I was giving particularly good exposition, and she interrupted me to hand another player at the table a dice bag she made. I don't remember it, but I absolutely believe this happened.)
The day of "the incident", she had a meltdown about how a friend of hers had ghosted her. I told her it was okay, she was much younger anyway and people grow apart. She's probably going through stuff and we should respect that path she's on. She cried about how she has no friends.
Also the day of "the incident", we were in the shower together and she told me she had met her sister's new BF on facetime. I asked "why did she break up with her old one?" "Well... she cheated on him." "Oh, that's a shame. Cheating is probably the most cowardly act a person can do to another. If you're going to start a new relationship, you need to grow a pair and end it before starting a new one." She clearly took my words to heart.
One of my biggest pet peeves about cleaning the house is our dog sheds, a lot. If I see a hairball roll through the house it immediately drains me a bit. We had a roomba. She would send that thing home when it started and never start it again. It barely ran. She would not vacuum.
One of the most common descriptors of her I've heard used by many people now that they're "allowed to" is "She was there, doing the thing with us, but it was like she wasn't there."
Something she thought that I apparently hadn't figured out by the time we talked after everything happened was that they had been talking since February. I told her I wasn't stupid and had figured it out already that this wasn't out of the blue.
Z's wife is currently pregnant with the baby of the man she cheated on him with. (And he is also married)
Anything else I remember Ill leave for comments, I know there is much, much more.

If you’re on the fence about purchasing a wheel/rig setup to play GT. Take my word for it when I say DO IT!
I wanted a wheel for a long time but just haven’t had the disposable income to buy one. A few months of scouting FB Marketplace & I found a Logitech G29 @ Shifter for under £80… SOLD.
I only used it just a couple of times as I was having to move the dining room table around to set it up. But, I found I wasn’t enjoying using a controller to play GT anymore…
3 months later brings me to yesterday.
I bought a Playseat Challenge for £40 and have fully immersed myself into an evening session of ‘The real driving simulator’ & folded it away for another day.
I am in love with this set up and can’t encourage anyone unsure if they should delve into getting a wheel & rig enough… Seriously wish I did it earlier!

first
Luna VI query: Set the source to the leaked files of the first reconnaissance operation of Irisa.
Certainly!
Luna VI query: What did Ryo do during the first hour of the war?
***
Ryo had already reached a state of full awareness after waking up, and yet he hadn't moved an inch, immersed in his inner world as he thought about what he and Elysira had done at night.
And what a wild night it was.
The way that she had skipped the journey to go straight for the finishing line had caught him unprepared. Still, with the mystery of their physical compatibility out of the way from the get-go, Ryo had been left with a lot of time to explore the other hiccups and perks of this interspecies endeavor.
From the occasional accident with her claws to the new possibilities her tail brought to the table, Ryo had enjoyed everything.
There was not an ounce of regret in him, but the memory of their last act lingered incessantly in his thoughts—a vivid Recollection of Elysira’s tail wrapping around his leg and letting silence prevail as his arm shyly enveloped her, allowing them to fall asleep side by side.
The one memory that held him in place, fearing their next interaction when the slightest of his movements would inevitably wake her up, mirroring what had happened all in the previous mornings.
What would she say?
Would she think that they are in a relationship now?
What would he do if the concept of casual hook ups didn't exist for the Irisians?
Ryo touched his face and shook his head, instantly deciding it was time to start his morning routine to distract him from those absurd thoughts.
The brain IO interface captured his intention, turning on the lights on the ceiling with maximum brightness, something that he was sure would wake her up at once given how sensitive to change all Irisians were.
And yet he was wrong.
Elysira’s head tilted away from the light as eyelids fluttered, but the only other thing she did before stopping moving was strengthening her grip on his leg quite a bit, making him realize that her tail had not let go of him the whole night.
Upon noticing how numb his leg felt, Ryo propelled his body upwards, intending to uncoil her tail from his leg and start his day. Hopefully, Elysira wouldn't mention what they did, and he too would be able to pretend it never happened.
However, the moment his upper body lifted from the ground and he got a full view of her body, he was unable to remove her tail from his leg, captivated by a simple but powerful sight.
With her hands inside the pockets, Elysira had used his jeans to restrain her claws, putting herself in a very uncomfortable position, likely afraid of hurting him during her sleep.
His eyes widened, dispersing his previous train of thought from existence. The hand that was supposed to be dealing with her tail moved toward Elysira's exposed neck instead, aiming to wake her up with a gentle touch.
And as if he had just perturbed the stillness of a calm lake with a stone, a barely perceptible ripple of yellow spread on her skin from the contact with his fingertips. It traveled through her neck, reaching the soft lines of her face, and even traveled down her long hair strands.
At the same time that it felt wrong to be able to take a peek at her emotions so easily, Ryo couldn't help but wonder—which other colors had the darkness stolen from him? While immersed in this question, Ryo kept caressing her neck until her eyes opened slowly, resetting all the back spots of her body at once as consciousness took control over instinct.
Elysira’s grip on his leg loosened when she realized she was overdoing it. Her gaze started scanning every inch of him, starting from the accidental scratches of her own making and unashamedly stopping at places she had not seen before.
Unbothered by her curiosity, he even removed some of the loose strands in front of her eyes and threw them behind her long ears to make her job easier, feeling some apprehension only when she lost interest and sought eye contact.
Traces of purple appeared around her black spots as she spoke. "What do you humans do after... what we did?"
Ryo winced, but his tone was gentle. "Silly girl!" He felt deep regret for how he had skipped the part of Irisian relationships in favor of politics when she was teaching him about her species. "It could be everything or nothing."
He expected some intense reaction from Elysira, but there wasn't a lot of emotion showing. As he searched her skin, he also realized he was unable to look at her the same way as before.
From seeing her small breasts, which he now knew for a fact fit on his hands, to the very memory of all evenness that he now was able to associate with the sheen her skin exhibited from certain angles, Ryo realized he had lost the ability to gauge her emotions without feeling a hint desire.
She noticed how long he was staring at her and a hint of yellow appeared. "I don't need everything, but nothing is not enough!"
How did Ryo fail to see that this conversation would inevitably happen when they were having fun at night?
"Oh!" He was unable to keep his mouth shut, which resulted in red and purple manifesting on her skin as he felt the pressure for a quick reply.
He had heard the Irisians speaking terms such as chosen, mate, and family, but Ryo didn't know much about this, and now was not looking like a good time for asking for clarification.
The translator would do its job in conveying his intention. But what would he say? Friends with benefits maybe? He gave up that one on the spot; he didn't consider their previous relationship a friendship, and somehow, he felt a dangerous desire to want more than that from her.
Under the pressure of his previous mistake, he told her the highest relationship he was willing to have without a care in the world for consulting his superiors. "Is girlfriend good for you?"
Elysira’s eyes widened as her skin maintained the same tones. But it lasted only a second before a golden hue took over, leaving little room for her black spots. "Wait, are you serious? I never thought you would consider anything more than being my exclusive pair."
"I am serious, but what's the difference?" Ryo instantly felt he could have gotten away with being just friends with benefits.
"Two differences." She took her clawed hands from the pockets of his jeans and pressed them against his neck in a fast but controlled movement. "One is implied trust." Her head approached him slower as if she would kiss him, but instead, her lips diverted toward his ears where she whispered, "And the other is a promise for the future."
"That seems alright."
As he said that, Elysira had already started taking little bites on his earlobe, her other hand joining around his neck while her tail was sneakily pushing the rest of her body on top of him.
"This will have to be quick, we-"
Ryo was about to give up the time they had for breakfast, when a powerful explosion shook the ground, causing the whole tent to vibrate.
Elysira’s pointy ears began to twitch and her body receded, trying to get of clue of what happened as she displayed purple. "I hear nothing."
"This was not far from here; I don't think it was a landslide." Ryo summoned a window with all the cameras outside and found nothing unusual, even with the infrared inspection.
Elysira could see what he was doing since they had never left the shared augmented space.
"Can we see what Amara is doing? She might know more than us."
He still was incapable of referring to her as his girlfriend even in his thoughts, but he still felt a hint of pride for her quick thinking. "Let's see."
He quickly summoned a live feed and promptly instructed the AI to go through the recordings of the whole night. "Nathan and that princess are still inside the tent. Time to go there."
Ryo wasted no time explaining, quickly standing up to begin the search for his underwear. The floor was still littered with paper sheets, and there were even some opened water bottles around, but he still found what he was looking for before pulling his jeans from under Elysira’s butt and getting dressed with haste.
He wore his shoes but didn't bother with his shirt and jacket, just taking his already loaded gun from the holster and getting some spare ammunition before heading outside cautiously.
"I'm going with you." She got out of the tent almost at the same time as him, proving that not needing clothes had its advantages.
"Stay close." He activated the infrared view mode and scanned the surroundings just to be sure, then hasted his steps towards Nathan's tent which was about forty meters ahead.
There was little he expected would go wrong on such a short journey, but Elysira’s ears began to twitch halfway through, prompting him to stop advancing. "Hear someone?"
"Something." She then used her tail to point uphill, in the direction where the rest of the group had set camp on the previous day. "I think it's a drone."
"Fuck, I hope you are wrong." He raised his 3D-printed revolver and felt like cursing more at the fact he didn't even have a proper pistol, pulling back the harmer and getting himself in front of Elysira.
Thanks to her acute hearing, when he heard the buzzing of the drone, his gun was already pointing in the right direction. Upon getting the first glimpse of the flying object and noticing how fast it was moving, he didn't hesitate to do a partial activation of combat mode.
The world slowed down for a moment, allowing him to see the device flying among the very few beams of blue light that made their way through the canopies. He didn't wait a single second and corrected his aim slightly to the left before pulling the trigger.
Bang!
The drone was torn to pieces and many parts fell about twenty-five meters away from them, at a distance that any explosives wouldn't hurt himself or Elysira.
When his eyes found her behind him, there was yellow and purple on her skin as she asked, "What if it was friendly?"
"The owner can send the bill up the chain for all I care." Ryo lowered the gun and did a full scan all around once more, only to find nothing again.
Her tail wrapped around his arm as all purple on her body disappeared, leaving only a hint of yellow. "Amara won't be happy if it was hers."
Just as Elysira spoke, a circular door opened on Nathan's tent, and Amara took a step outside with red filling her body.
Ryo pictured a scene of a princess complaining about her lost drone, but things only got more complicated instead.
Nathan emerged after her, and the pair began to argue loudly about what to do now that a war had broken out; Amara wanted to march uphill to join her guards, but Nathan held her by the tail when she was about to leave and prevented her for moving, saying it would be too dangerous.
Their argument turned into a messy mixture of the present situation with Amara sulking about a wasted night, which led Ryo to exchange a look of surprise with Elysira.
But their surprise only lasted a moment and Ryo decided he couldn't let those fools keep wasting valuable time.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
He had their attention now. "Please don't tell me you're mad because the plant lover couldn't get it up."
Under normal circumstances, Ryo had no doubt his assholish behavior would only instill shame and improve their cooperation.
However, he forgot to account that he was not wearing a shirt, leaving all his scratches exposed while Elysira was disheveled by his side, which caused Nathan's jaws to drop followed by Amara throwing an indignant gaze at Elysira and then at Nathan, who gave Ryo the feeling he might snap at any time.
"Why are you here?" Nathan's calm voice didn't match his clenched fist and rigid posture.
"Information. I want her to tell me what she knows about this war." Ryo had learned about the war by overhearing their previous argument.
Surprisingly, Amara was cooperative. "My brother's army found our position. They were not aware I was here with Nathan and ambushed the rest of my people and Zara; you destroyed their drone but if they saw us they might have a good reason to come here."
"Fuck!" He turned to Elysira and ordered. "Go back and gather my things. Take the essentials first, we are leaving."
Elysira used her tail to squeeze his arm in acknowledgment and rushed back. But when she had barely taken a few steps, she stopped as her ears moved. "More drones are coming!"
After alerting him, she ran to accomplish her task, leaving Ryo in the company of just Nathan and Amara.
"Isn't that great?" He grumbled to himself, but his voice carried loudly, obtaining the pair's attention as he raised his revolver again.
Knowing that the enemy was probably aware of their position, Ryo used infrared view mode to ensure they weren't using the drones as a distraction to pull off an ambush.
And that didn't seem to be the case when the first machine appeared, flying downwards in zigzag from the concentration of trees uphill.
Again Ryo used a partial activation of combat mode and aimed at the drone, yet this time more of them appeared, leaving the cover of the woods in groups of three until there were nine of them in total. But they didn't even try to get close this time, choosing to hover next to the canopies more than two hundred meters away from him, and assuming something akin to a structured formation.
This was extremely weird and enough of a reason for him to retreat a little, getting closer to his tent and taking cover behind a tree.
Nathan and Amara moved too, the botanist getting inside and returning with his gun while Amara's colors blended with his tent becoming hard to spot.
Assessing the new situation in an instant, Ryo concluded it would be better not to engage and retreat considering that those drones would be hard to take down at such distance. But things changed again quickly when the AI triggered a pop-up window, showing that several of the cameras he had set up in strategic places were capturing movement.
And what he was seeing now were several armed groups of Irisians heading towards their position, confirming Amara's supposition that the rebels were coming for them.
With the situation getting grimmer with every passing moment, Ryo thought of a possibility for what the drones might be doing, but his mind was still refusing to believe that the rebels could be as organized as his worst-case scenarios were giving them credit for.
To test this, he immediately tried to contact the space station through radio transmission, and since being found by the enemy was no longer an issue, he set the transmitter to maximum potency to validate his test.
Unable to establish a two-way connection.
He frowned even though that was not totally unexpected.
With only a few minutes at best before this place was filled with enemies, they would have to leave fast or they would be at the mercy of the enemy.
But first, there was something he wanted to say to Nathan, who now was using his tent for cover together with Amara. "Listen up, those fuckers are jamming our comms and they will be here at any time. Take the MLBCS and find a clearing to use it, I doubt they can interfere with the laser. Just don't forget that your immediate safety comes first or else you might not be among the living when the pod arrives."
Ryo and Nathan were technically enemies, but the last casualty in the war between Earth and Mars had happened several years in the past, ensuring that he had no reason to wish any harm for the botanist even though he didn't like him.
As for Amara, it was a little different. He hurried back to his tent without saying anything to her. And he did that not because he wished her harm, but simply because he didn't understand what she had at her disposal to offer any useful advice.
"Wait, what are you gonna do?" Nathan shouted from a distance.
With the adrenalin of seeing how many Irisians were coming helping his sincerity, he shouted back. "I'm not leaving the planet unless mission control finds a way to save Ely too."
After that, Nathan and Amara disappeared from his mind as he took cover behind his tent, slamming his hand against the foldable fabric many times to get Elysira's attention. "Hurry up, we can't stay here any longer."
She left immediately after, struggling to maintain balance as she used a hand plus her tail to carry his backpack, while her gun threatened to tumble from her gasp in her other hand.
And besides, one thing that Ryo’s eyes were immediately drawn towards was the clothes she was wearing—his clothes. While her legs were still exposed, his jacket still covered a bit more than her hips, loosely engulfing her slender frame like a billowing sail.
"I put the food and water in your backpack." She let go of the heavy item right over his feet as she put the gun on the ground and lifted her arms for him to recover his jacket and t-shirt. "You can get dressed while the tent folds."
He might have allowed her to keep the jacket if not for it being an inconvenience to her, so he just took it, making the first time he saw her wearing clothes a very short experience.
"No time for that, it won't fold with all the paper you left on the ground." He said as he swiftly slipped his arms into the sleeves of the jacket and zipped it up in one smooth movement.
Ryo was already considering which path they would take to flee when he noticed something terrible—Elysira’s skin had just been filled with gray as tiny black spots began to appear and disappear as if rain on the sand of a desert.
"What's it now?" He asked, trying to hide how unprepared he was to deal with this.
"Nothing has changed." Elysira averted her eyes. "I'm a burden to you just as I was to Amara. If I had-"
"Oh, shut up and quit the self-pity!" Ryo realized he was being too harsh, but still went on to finish it. "The paper is our mistake and I'm staying because I like you. This simple. Now get your gun and use your goddam camouflage, just like that princess is doing."
Ryo felt awful after saying this, and Elysira seemed quite taken about as she stared at him with wide eyes.
A moment later, however, she bent over and took the gun from the ground, her exterior blending quite well with the surroundings.
Ryo felt bad for her, but now there was no time to talk. "We run now, let's go."
The sound of his own steps was all he heard as they were putting some distance from the tent, making it so that he had to check on Elysira every couple of steps he took to ensure she was following him.
It was only when he heard some gunshots from far behind that he felt her claws tugging at his jacket from behind. "I hope Nathan is like you."
***
This was an account based on what Ryo did during the first hour of the war. The previous narrative is based on the events of the morning of the twentieth day of the exploratory mission of Irisa. According to your current settings, no queries will be suggested.
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1/3 match stack ~700 eff with main villain.
Button straddle for $6
BB opens to 25 LJ flats for 25 Hero in HJ with QcQd 3bets to 125 Button calls BB and LJ fold
Flop (301): 9s 7d 3c
Hero bets $75 (I size down here on this low flop. Maybe should be going bigger?)
Button calls
Turn (451): 7c
Hero bets $125 (I size down again for an ~half pot shove on the river)
Button calls
River (700): As
Hero checks (I have a lot of Ax and overpairs to the 9 in my range. I don't think I can get a call from anything other than an ace or a set)
Button checks
Button shows JcJh
I think I definitely left value on the table here by sizing down on the flop and turn. Should I be structuring bet sizings to get the money in on 2 streets here? I think QQ for value on the river is too thin, but maybe I should be going for it?

I had a cat. A Scottish fold. I loved him so much, he was my sweet baby. We used to keep him inside, but my parents kicked him out because he kept pooping on the floor and jumping on the table. They occasionally would let him inside, with the hope that he would do what he did anymore. I fed him occasionally cat food, since my grandma and mom used to feed him normal food, the one that is humans eat. Like: fish, pieces of chicken, etc.. Due to my stress at school and I was tired to even get out of bed, I didn't spend my time with him, which I feel so guilty about. I wish I spent my time with my sweet angel instead of rotting in bed.
As months passed by, whenever I went outside and petted him, his stomach would twitch, which was a bit weird, but I wasn't sure if it was anything big so I just ignored it and kept on petting him.
Another few months later. My cat lost his abilities to move his back legs a few days ago, he got extremely skinny. We went to the vet and he got injected and got taken cared of. A few days later from that day, he could barely even stand up, but still managed to walk. I fed him. He ate a little and then lied down.
This morning I woke up to get ready for school and went outside to check on him. He was lying down on a towel, a part of the towel was dirty with blood and his butt and back legs too. I thought he was dead, and I got extremely scared, when I went to see what was with him, I pet him on his belly and he began meowing out loud. I panicked and called my mom and she told my dad to go with him at the vet again.I went inside because I had to keep getting ready for school. At that time he was crawling to the door and began to scratch to let him inside, but I couldn't, because I knew my parents would've said something. I went back outside after I finished and saw that he crawled away from the floor, he was lying again on the ground, trying to lift his head as he heard me, but failed and hit his head to the ground so I ran and placed my foot under his head, so he wouldn't hit his head anymore, as I waited for my dad to come outside to take him to the vet. I'm so angry that I couldn't go too, to see him alive for the last time, because I was sent to school. I cried the whole morning, thinking of what it could've been nd ran away from school just to see him again.I live in a village but study in the city. I went to the bus station hoping that my dad brought him back and everything would be fine that they would find a cure. I call my mom and asked if my dad came back and asked her about my cat and if he was fine. She said that he has cancer, and I began to cry so much. I got in the bus. Then arrived home and ran to my mom, to ask where my cat is. She lied and told me my dad left him at the vet, that maybe they could cure him. 30 minutes or later, we went to eat at my grandma (she lives next to us, we're neighbors) and when I came back I saw the towel that my cat used to sleep on. I run as quick as I could and took half of the towel off, and then I saw the corpse of my cat. I will never get that image out of my head.
I wish I could've spend my time with him more. To see him alive and well, to hold him in my arms and to pet his fur. To feel him purr and look at me with his big and cute eyes. It's killing me inside that I won't be able to see him anymore at my door, to greet me whenever I have to go to school. I'm so sorry my sweet angles. He didn't deserve any of this. I wish I could've undo my mistakes. I don't know if he will ever forgive me but I'll never forget and never stop loving him.
Sleep well, my sweet little angel ♡.

Hey everyone,
Would like to know your thoughts on my play with Aces.
For background info: I think I'm a pretty solid player with an understanding of ranges and position but struggle with bet sizing and knowing when I'm ahead when I don't have the nuts.
Table image of me is a pretty strong player who has won many pots and mixes in check-raises to get opponents off hands. Up about $400 in the session
Hero: (600 effective) BTN: AcAd
Villain ($500 effective) (UTG) opens to $25 (not standard at all but he has shown to be a very loose and splashy player. Calling station)
Villain #2 (utg+1) calls $25
Hero: 3! to $100, UTG tank calls (says out loud he knows what he's up against), utg +1 folds.
Flop: QhJh9s. Villian checks, Hero bets $80, V calls
Turn: 7h. Villain checks, hero checks.
River: 5h. Villain checks, Hero ??
Will update with results later. Could I have played this better prior to the river, what would you have done in this situation?
Thank you for the input.

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Every year when I see the Westminster Dog Show is happening I think about the time I went and checked it out and had a pretty amusing experience.
Before that day the closest I had ever been to a dog show was the 4H barn at my county fair, but by the time I left several hours later I had been entrusted with the supervision of a giant Leonberger, who I casually passed off as my own to the unwitting public.
About 12 years ago I was living in NYC, in Hell's Kitchen, and one morning went for a run that took me down along the Hudson River where I happened to see some signage announcing that the Westminster KC Dog Show was taking place on one of the piers there a few blocks from my apartment. I thought that sounded like an interesting thing to check out, being a dog lover who had never been to a dog show, and not having anything else on the agenda that day. So after my run I checked out the particulars online, failed to round up anyone who wanted to join me, and headed back down to the venue to check it out.
I walked in with no particular expectations. I had caught a few snippets of the best in show rounds over the years, but the only moment I can think of that ever really stuck with me was year Josh the Newfoundland won, and thinking he was the the best dog I'd ever seen. I had, however, seen the documentary 'Best in Show' so I had a pretty good handle on what dog show people were like.
This many years later I can't tell you everything I saw that day. I know I was amazed at the Dobermans, and hugely let down by the Golden Retrievers. My childhood had been greatly informed by two wonderful Goldens who were big, shaggy, had a gregariousness somewhere between a local politician and a door-to-door salesman, and a perpetual residual aroma of low tide. Show Goldens it turns out are way, way, way too pretty.
What I was most surprised by was the fact that, in addition to the formal showing and judging and all, you could also see all the off-duty dogs up close in another area. A 'benched' show I believe they called it. They basically had a warehouse of amazing dogs you could peruse, mostly at arm's length, at your leisure. Certainly lots of dogs were sleeping in crates, with owners engrossed in their books with obvious 'don't pester me' vibes, but lots of people were very willing to chat about dogs who were reassuringly eager to have their ears scratched by total strangers.
I'm pretty sure I gave every dog there at least a cursory once-over, but I just kept coming back to this one Leonberger, whose name, sadly, I do not recall. I had never heard of a Leonberger before that day, and if you haven't either you should google it. He, despite having been eliminated earlier in the breed stage, was an incredibly handsome, friendly, curious, patient, charming animal. His owner was a woman, maybe 60 years old, possibly from upstate NY, and she was equally tolerant of me asking her dozens of questions I know she had answered hundreds of times before.
I probably spent a good 20 minutes with her and that dog. I asked all the obvious stuff about him, and Leonbergers, and then about dog shows, and Westminster, etc, etc. I ended up sitting on the floor with 150+ lbs of shaggy dog parked in my lap while we chatted. Eventually she asked me if I was going to be there for a while longer, I pointed out that at that point it wasn't really up to me but I had nowhere I needed to be, so she asked if I would mind watching her dog while she made the rounds to visit some friends for a bit. Of course I did what anyone would do when asked by a complete stranger if you will look after their prized show dog, and said sure.
So there I was for probably the next half hour, sitting with this amazing dog I had only just met while scores of people wandered up and asked me all the same sorts of questions I had just been asking her. At least a good 90% of them left none the wiser that I had no connection to this dog, and literally everything I knew about him, the breed, the show, and indeed this whole slightly strange world I had learned since lunch that day. The other 10% left probably pretty confused when I answered their simple question with the admission that I had no idea because this wasn't actually my dog and I didn't in fact even know the owner. It was honestly kind of a surreal experience.
Anyway, before long she came back, said she was ready to pack it in for the day, and asked if I'd help her get all her stuff to her car. So I found a cart, loaded it with her folding table, camp chair, giant kennel, bed, food, toys, etc and got it all into her minivan, said goodbye to the epic fuzzball, and she asked if I was going to the finals at Madison Square Garden the next day. I told her I hadn't planned on it, and she asked if I'd like her owner's tickets, since she was going home and wasn't going to use them. I of course said yes, so I got to go to that for free the next day. After that show I happened to stumble into what would become my go-to dive bar, but that's another (several) story(s)...
It's a funny world sometimes.

So as you can see in the pictures the TV situation is horrible. I never bothered to change the cable solution as I do not like the option of having the TV on this movable shelf, but I really struggle to find a better solution.
A wall mount would create an odd angle and/or be too high to look decent.
A ceiling mount would look horrible and even if I would be inclined to build an option where the TV folds up to the ceiling and can be hidden, I would have to build a custom mechanism, as there aren't any that would allow the TV to come down for 2m.
Maybe it would work if I exchanged table and couch with the TV directly above the PC as I think the height would be... not as bad as it could be... at that distance, but as it is a standing desk that is no option.
Adding room dividers that include the TV might be my only option, but I am not sure whether that would work well and it would suck to lose the openness of the room.
Are there any ideas for a visually pleasing solution that doesn't involve building my very own cabinet with built in TV lift?
Thank you very much!
PS: I would also appreciate suggestions for improving the lighting situation.
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Helena Pederson had few people knock on the door to her cabin. A life ostracized from her community left her with mostly her chickens and sheep and her dog for company, though there were several friendships that sustained themselves despite her exile. She grew food in her garden but also traded, her chickens giving her more eggs than she needed and her sheep growing wool she would use to knit.
The knock that came at night drew her out of a reverie, having been sitting on her couch, sipping a cup of tea she’d just brewed. Her dog Grant lifted his head in curiosity, but didn’t bark, accustomed to knocks and not interested in wasting energy at his older age. Hesitating, Helena put the cup down in its saucer and stood, her socks still on to keep her toes warm against the chill of her hardwood floors. She went to the door, opening it wide.
She stared. “Marius,” she finally managed.
The king stood before her in clothing that made it almost difficult to recognize him. Whether it was the beautiful robes he wore for ceremonies or impeccably sewn clothes for day-to-day life, he always appeared as a king should. But now he was draped in a shabby, worn cloak that covered whatever he wore beneath. She saw his horse nearby, tied to a post, but he was alone, not accompanied by so much as a single guard.
“Helena,” he answered softly. “May I come in?”
Pursing her lips, she paused tersely for a long moment before she moved aside. Marius pulled back the hood of his cloak and stepped inside as Grant trotted over to take in his scent. The unfamiliar presence in the dog’s home made him wary, but the demeanor of his master and her permitting his entrance kept the dog from so much as growling.
Helena shut the door and walked over to the kitchen area. “You still take your tea the same?”
“I do.”
Marius sat on the couch and Grant plodded back over to his bed, laying down on it but keeping his head up and aware. The seconds ticked by slowly as Helena poured the still boiling hot water into another cup. She prepared it as she remembered, down to the exact size of the splash of milk, bringing it over on a saucer.
Marius nodded once in thanks and blew on it before taking a careful sip. Helena took a seat in the handcrafted wooden chair adjacent to the couch rather than beside the king, dismissing her own cup of tea, letting it cool, forgotten. “What’s happened?”
The king paused, taking another sip of tea that Helena knew was still hot enough to burn his tongue. “The battle at Hempstead. We lost…too many men. The situation is declining sharply, and the Empire threatens to overtake the kingdom.”
Helena took in and let out a deep breath, silently. She shook her head. “I know you’ve worked hard to protect this kingdom, and you’ll do what’s best. You always do.”
Marius raised his gaze to meet hers. “Always?”
Helena’s face tightened into a glare. No. Not always. “That doesn’t tell me anything,” she said. “What in God’s name would bring you to my door?”
“Desperation,” he confessed. He took another sip of the tea. “The Empire brings subjugation. They rule with an iron fist and many will die just in their invasion alone. And of course, many men will be conscripted.”
“Are you here to…complain?” Helena asked, leaning back in her chair, confusion thick in her tone.
Marius sighed. “No, Helena, I’m here…” He paused heavily before he met her gaze, with some effort, she noticed. “I’m here to ask for your help.”
Helena stared for a long moment before her confusion turned to shock. “You…” She swallowed hard. “Help.”
The king placed the tea down on the saucer on the table in front of him. “These are my people,” he whispered. “And they will suffer, and there is nothing I can do but watch as it happens. They deserve better.”
“And I didn’t?” she asked, a vice gripping her heart as she felt emotion swell up inside her. “You come asking for help? Your nerve, your arrogance, is unmatched. Besides which, what would you have me do?”
“I need an army that will not fall from an arrow or a sword, an army that feels no pain, that follows orders just as my men do,” he told her. He visibly forced the words out and Helena’s expression descended further into disbelief as he spoke each one. “We have thousands of dead soldiers. Helena, I am more desperate than I’ve ever been because I know what is coming for my citizens and I am afraid.”
Helena’s face twitched in disgust. “I told you,” she whispered, “that I only ever did this for those mourning a loss. For a last goodbye, for a grieving widow or parent or child. And now you come here to ask me to use my skills to raise you an army?”
“I’ve no right.”
“You don’t.” She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and regulated her breathing, refusing to allow herself to descend into tears. “I’m an exile, Marius. Because of you. What makes you think I would even consider doing this?”
“Because you’re a good person,” he said quietly. Helena’s eyes narrowed in anger. “You broke the law, repeatedly and with no remorse. It forced my hand, you must know that-”
“You are king,” she said. “Nothing forces your hand.”
Marius fell silent for a long moment. “I know I’ve not seen you for many years, but I still care for your well-being. I still have love for you. I’m not sure if that changes anything here, if it’s even relevant, but I wanted to say it, nonetheless. You’re still my sister.”
Helena’s expression slid into a wearied resignation. “Is that meant to sway my response here? This is an affront to everything I’ve ever tried to do with my necromancy.”
“It’s simply the truth.”
They lapsed into a long silence. “What makes you think I could even wield such power? Over so many at once?”
“You would have support,” he answered. “I’ve come to you first, but if you agree to help, there are other witches who would support you with their power. And the battle won’t be lengthy. It can’t be. We need a show of strength that turns the tides, that reveals we will not be conquered as easily as those who’ve fallen in their path so far.”
Helena slowly leaned back in his chair. “They could try the same thing, you know,” she muttered. “They surely have the same intolerance for my kind of magic, but they will find other necromancers among their people if they truly must. Where will you be then? Your soldiers will be pulled back to their decaying, bloody bodies, forced into battle until they can no longer stand, until their spirits untether from this realm because there is nothing left to hold to. The Empire will be the same. All soldiers will fall and even their corpses will become useless, falling to the ground as desecrated shells. What then?”
“I don’t know,” Marius said softly. “I only know that I need to try. I promised that I would try everything to keep our kingdom, to keep their families, safe. And I intend to keep that promise. To try everything.”
Helena’s gaze slid over to her now chilly cup of tea, a part of her wishing she had ignored that knock at the door. She folded her arms around her tightly, emotions she couldn’t describe roiling inside her, trying to hold tight to the life she’d had ten minutes ago. A life that was simple and, in a way, quite sad, but it was enviable from the position she found herself in now.
“How can I say no?” she whispered. Helena met her brother’s eyes, seeing in them a mixture of relief and utter despair. “I’m an outcast of the highest order save for a special few of my oldest friends, but they are still my people. I remember my home in the village, the children who would play in the streets, their parents doing their best to support their families and to simply…live their lives. I couldn’t leave them to be trampled underfoot in a war that is determined to arrive at their doorstep.
“And I hate you for it,” she continued, her gaze thick with a burden of emotion. “I will always hate you for it.”
“That is something I am willing to live with, and I’d expected nothing less,” he said.
Helena pushed herself to her feet. “I’m determined to have one last cup of tea. Then I’ll need someone to look after my animals. You can send word to Kasper Friis; he’d be willing. And then…” She let out an exhausted sigh. “Then…we prepare for battle.”
***
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