Quiero independizarme de mi madre en cuanto cumpla mi mayoría de edad; debido que he tenido problemas de comunicación con ella desde hace años y para así dejar de tenerlos, se que esto me llevará a tener que buscar hogar y muchas nuevas responsabilidades, pero así evito tener una mala relación con ella. ¿Algún consejo para que comience a tomar en cuanta o si es buena idea eso?
Psd: Ya tengo un empleo de fin de semana

Bonne lecture.
Les moustiques dansent près des lampes à huile éclairant les rues désertes du quartier Félis. Situé au Nord-Ouest de Boubastis, ce quartier est principalement composé des ouvriers du nome, une zone assez proche de la pyramide. Depuis l’arrivé du garde Chabti, les Sittiu se sont résignés à jouer dehors de jour comme de nuit, même les chats évitent les lieux de peur de recevoir une pierre. Chabti est un homme grand, musclé et au visage balafré de toute part par les innombrables altercations durant sa folle jeunesse. La peau de son cou est brûlée à cause d’une torture par un officier de Memphis cependant cela n’a fait qu’exacerber son côté monstrueux. D’après les rumeurs il aurait massacré un soldat de Moyenne-Égypte patrouillant près de son entrepôt. Punissable de mort par écartèlement, Chabti a eut la clarté d’esprit de se faire engager comme garde de Basse-Égypte. Une sorte d’amnistie qui l’oblige néanmoins à vêtir cet emploi à vie sous peine de torture sur une place publique. Un travail très mal rémunéré et dangereux surtout en cette période. Les maigres avantages offerts par ce poste incitent les soldats de Pharaon à extorquer les Sittiu, ces derniers ne se gênent pas pour les assassiner lorsque l’occasion s’en présente mais pas aussi fréquemment. Toutefois, fort comme il est, Chabti se pavane dans les rues sombres en braillant et tapant les murs avec son khépesh en fer. La récompense du nomarque il la veut, bien plus que le déchu et il n’hésite pas à prendre tous les risques pour appâter sa cible. Shedet arrive enfin à Félis, ses pas sont légers, de peur qu’un garde ou un Sittiu ne le surprenne. « Les rues sont désertes? C’est peut-être mauvais signe. Par Thot, où est ce garde corrompu! Si j’arrive trop tard je risque de perdre ma seule piste ». Essoufflé, Shedet racle les murs pour se fondre dans l’obscurité, sa respiration est irrégulière, il essaye d’écouter le moindre bruit suspect à travers les ruelles étroites. Soudain un bref cri interrompu par le bruit d’un objet massif le fit sursauter. « c’est juste à côté! ». Tournant à gauche puis à droite et encore une fois à gauche après un couloir, Shedet arrive dans une ruelle poisseuse. L’odeur est pestilentielle exacerbé par les ordures au pied des habitations, la terre est meuble avec encore quelques traces d’une bourrique et de sa charrette. Le déchu est seul dans la ruelle sombre large de quatre mètres et cerné par les maisonnettes d’ouvriers. En poursuivant sur ce chemin il découvre le cadavre de Chabti à plat ventre, la tête fracturée comme une pastèque par une statue de Bastet pesant à vue d’oeil dix kilos. Sans aucun doute l’une des décorations obligatoires présente sur les logis. Son sang se mêle à la boue reflété par la flamme vacillante de la flamme au-dessus de Shedet. « Le tueur est encore là j’en suis certain. Pourquoi les Sittiu restent cloitrés chez eux? Ont-ils reçut un ordre ou serait-ce Chabti qui leurs faisait peur? ». Portant son regard sur les toits des maisons Sittiu, un bruit l’interpelle puis ce qui ressemble à un objet métallique. Son oeil perçant distingue le reflet d’un masque en laiton qui l’observe avant de s’enfuir. La cape s’agrippe à un petit pot de fleur avant de se pulvériser au sol.
— Reviens ici saleté! Shedet escalade la maison en prenant appui grâce aux morceaux bois dépassant des murs. Il rejoint le sommet en un éclair et découvre une silhouette sautant de toit en toit vers le Nord. Sa cape sombre virevolte comme les ailes d’un monstre. Le déchu effectue les mêmes déplacements en marchant dans ses traces. Malgré sa douleur au pied droit la tâche est facilitée par les toits peu espacés entre les ruelles. Mais ce qui l’inquiète est de marcher sur un Sittiu dormant sur sa terrasse ou de chuter à travers un toit fragile. Le tueur de garde poursuit sa fuite à travers les ruelles sans arriver à semer le déchu. Au terme d’une intersection le tueur tourne à droite, toujours en direction du Nord, cependant un bruit sec suivit de cris de femme émane de la petite place du quartier. Shedet arrive à son tour et découvre Geburah tenant fermement le poignet du meurtrier. Comme l’avait mentionné le jeune homme durant la sépulture, le tueur est vêtu d’une cape, d’un turban entourant son crâne en ne laissant apparaitre qu’un masque en laiton. La décoration s’étend du front jusqu’à la lèvre supérieur. Sa corpulence est frêle et de petite taille, l’individu fait pâle figure devant Geburah.
— Arrête de te débattre ou je te casse le bras! vocifère Geburah.
Le tueur n’écoute pas les menaces, il se débat sans succès en émettant de léger gémissement. — Geburah tout va bien? demande un Sittiu en sortant sa tête de sa fenêtre.
— Rentre chez-toi Bram! crie Geburah en serrant sa poigne sur le tueur, je vous ai dit de ne pas sortir cette nuit. — Geburah! Le tueur est à moi, menace Shedet avec une barre en bois trouvé plus tôt sur un toit. — Et que vas-tu faire l’égyptien? Me tuer avec ton piquet? Si le tueur est un égyptien je le livrerai sinon je le relâche. Soudain le tueur s’arrêta et chuchota quelques mots à l’oreille de Geburah, son emprise s’affaiblit au fur et à mesure. « Bon sang! Qu’est ce qu’ils se racontent? ». Le déchu effectue quelques pas en avant mais le tueur s’échappe tandis que Geburah reste à sa place. — Si tu t’en vas je fermerai les yeux, préviens Geburah, mais avance d’encore un pas et je t’explose le crâne. Le regard du déchu suit la course du tueur disparaissant au détour d’une rue, toujours vers le Nord. « Je ne suis pas stupide, je sais très bien que je n’ai aucune chance face à Geburah, néanmoins il me parait un peu ivre au vu de ses pas et de son ton. La course est à mon avantage ». Sans attendre Shedet lui jette de toutes ses forces son bâton, Geburah l’attrape non sans mal, sa concentration s’amenuise quelques secondes. Pendant ce temps Shedet s’enfuit vers une ruelle à sa gauche. « Le Nord, c’est là bas que le tueur se rend, j’entends encore ses bruits de pas ». La course du déchu augmente et cela finit par payer, le tueur quitte le quartier Félis en direction du pôle Nord. « Je le sens, il perd de l’endurance, encore un peu et je l’attrape ». Shedet s’extirpe aussi de la ville et pénètre dans une zone de transition avant d’atteindre le pôle Nord. Le bruit de sa course contre le sol sec en devient une mélodie tandis qu’il se rapproche progressivement de sa proie. Vingt mètres, seize mètres et maintenant seul treize mètres le séparent de sa récompense. Il escalade une faible pente, à quatre pattes à son sommet il aperçoit le fugitif perdre l’équilibre et trébucher avant de se reprendre. — Reviens ici! Soudain une lame courte lui entaille la joue droite, manquant de peu l’oeil encore viable. La douleur et les réflexes lors de l’esquive lui font perdre l’équilibre. A terre mais en encore en vie, Shedet aperçoit son agresseur grâce à la lumière de la lune. Un homme maigre se tenant le flanc gauche et suant à grosse goutte, c’est un Égyptien et plus intriguant encore un déchu arborant la marque Amenta sur le torse. — Par Amon, qu’est ce qui te prends! s’écrie Shedet en se relevant avec sa main couverte de sang, ne me dis pas que tu protèges le tueur? — Laisse-le moi, grimace-t-il et peinant à respirer, la récompense… j’en ai besoin, ajoute-t-il en pointant sa dague du haut de la pente. Shedet ignore ses invectives, il contourne de quelques mètres le déchu puis sprint retrouver le tueur. « Ah! Je le savais, cet idiot ne peut même pas courir ». En pénétrant dans le pôle Nord la peur le submerge, un sentiment terrifiant le parcours continuellement. Ses pieds tremblent et sa blessure à la joue, toujours saignante, devient plus douloureuse. « Par Thot, encore un rivale pour cette traque, je dois me dépêcher. J’ai de la chance, le tueur a laissé beaucoup de trace. Je ne dois pas abandonner, pas maintenant. Par Amon, mes yeux doivent me jouer des tours ». Dans l’obscurité, Shedet perçoit des ombres, du mouvement continuel provenir des crevasses vers sa position. La silhouette du tueur apparait brièvement vers l’Ouest, sa cape flotte mais ses pas semblent saccadés. Shedet ferme les yeux, respire quelques secondes puis fonce dans sa direction. Ses jambes le font souffrir et le manque de lumière masque les pièges mortel. Soudain son pied glisse avant de cogner une pierre, le déchu s’écroule pile aux abords d’une crevasse ténébreuse. Sa tête a failli heurter le sol mais ses réflexes l’ont sauvé d’une commotion. « Par Thot quel est ce bruit? ». Le son provenant du trou est semblable à du sable versé en grande quantité mais pour le déchu l’explication lui parait plus sinistre. En se relevant d’un bond, la lumière lunaire dévoile un scarabée aussi gros qu’une main remonter le trou. Sa dizaine de patte velue produise un son semblable à une chaîne en mouvement et sa vitesse fulgurante lui permet de toucher son orteil. L’insecte, normalement sacré chez les Égyptiens, le répugne, la vision de cette horreur pétrifie Shedet qui, par réflexe, écrase la bestiole. Le craquement ressemble à s’y méprendre à celui de plusieurs oeufs mais pas de sang, aucun fluide ne s’échappe seulement une odeur pestilentiel de souffre. « Par Thot, tu n’es pas un enfant du dieu Khépri… ». Le déchu reprend sa route à toute vitesse puis saute au-dessus d’une crevasse, la mort de l’insecte a rameuté tous ses congénères, une nuée puis un tapis de ces scarabées à la carapace noire poursuis Shedet. Le son terrifiant qu’ils produisent le fait sprinter bien plus vite avant de s’arrêter lorsque le silence s’installe. Essoufflé, le déchu tente de reprendre sa concentration mais sa respiration se coupe lorsqu’en relevant la tête il crut apercevoir une main géante s’enfoncer dans les ténèbres d’une crevasse. « La fatigue et le stress me donnent ses illusions, je me dois de rester lucide si je veux attraper le tueur ». Shedet suit les traces de pas du tueur avant de l’apercevoir, sa cape se volatilise comme si l’individu chutait. A sa gauche un immense amas de roche en forme de main orienté vers le ciel attire l’oeil de Shedet. Toujours exténué, il rejoint la dernière trace du tueur. Des ombres vacillent partout autour de lui, le sol semble bouger et la lune bleuté lui donne le vertige. « Par Thot, je perds trop de sang; avec sa langue il examine la joue droite, c’est pas vrai! Un peu plus et je serai capable de passer ma langue au travers. Si je retrouve ce déchu je jure de le défigurer ». Sans s’en rendre compte il atteint une pente mais trébuche lorsque son pied se cogne contre une pierre le faisant hurler de douleur. A son cri se mêle celui d’un oiseau ou d’une bête carnassière, impossible à dire. Le corps du déchu effectue des tonneaux sans qu’il ne puisse s’arrêter ou ralentir, les pointes des cailloux le lacèrent tandis que la poussière l’asphyxie. Sa chute s’achève sur un gouffre, sa tête dépasse du sol prête à tomber si elle se détachait de son corps. « Par tous les dieux, les ennuis ne cessent de s’accumuler. La douleur commence à me rendre fou ». La lune éclaircit le fossé dans lequel Shedet a dégringolé, il se rend compte que sa vie était à deux doigt de s’interrompre si la corniche n’était pas si large. Le gouffre ténébreux dégage une sensation de malaise inexplicable couplé à une chaleur similaire à des braises laissées dans un four. Sur sa gauche le déchu repère une corniche plus étroite menant à ce qui ressemble à une grotte.

¿Que tan util serian unas cuantas lineas de subte en el conurbano? ¿Existen otras soluciones? Siendo de zona oeste me gustaria viajar de por ejemplo de san justo a ramos, o ramos a caseros sin tantos bondis que dan mil vueltas. Tambien aumentaria los usuarios del belgrano sur o el ramal Heado-Temperley, basicamente que sea mas facil viajar de zona oeste a zona sur o a zona norte e incluso distintos barrios de capital.
Si ya se... es una falopeada pero bastante util para mi punto de vista ya que me mareo en tramos largos subido en un bondi... ya me imagino que en La Matanza habria estaciones como "Nestor Kirchner" "Perón" "Evita".
Esta idea se me ocurrio cuando fui a mi primer entrevista de trabajo que quedaba en Caseros, tenia que ir de Villa Luzuriaga a Ramos para tomarme otro colectivo para ir a Caseros.

Somos un pequeño grupito de 3 jugando desde 0 el toram (ignorando al que le apetece la historia, no me importa esperar y el lore esta bien). Uno de nuestros miembros no esta muy a menudo y pues no nos hace exagerada gracia jugar 2 porque luego el 3ro se queda bajo de nivel, por eso un 4to pues bien para balancear el equipo que sea mas entretenido, ademas de llenar la party por fin al completo.
Jugamos en PC (por steam) pero en movil tambien se puede, y actualmente somos un tanque (el que no esta a menudo), un lancero y un arquero, cualquier rol esta bien mientras no se repita, y hay unas cuantas armas y combinaciones restantes para elegir, ya sea espada con orbitales, mago con escudo o llevar una katana sola por decir algunas cosas. Preferiria a alguien nuevo o con cuenta nueva dentro del juego para que no haya mucho problema, los otros 2 jugaron el juego hace mas de 4 años pero ni se acuerdan
Si hay requisitos serian un horario medio flexible (vamos, jugamos principalmente por las tardes hora española la mayoria de los dias) y pues aunque no hay roll perse si que hacemos como si los personajes tuvieran su forma de ser y su histora, una cosa tontiña asi. Tambien como rondamos los 18-20 pues por esa edad para que no sea muy raro todo.
Solo eso, gracias por leer, las dudas por aqui y si os interesa uniros me decis al priv y a ver si le caeis bien a los otros 2

Ya el sol se puso sobre el ayer. El sol de mañana no hay salido. A mi lado no tendrás que preocuparte por revivir el ayer. Por que tú ayer solo fue experiencia y eso te sirve a ti para tu hoy. Más yo te prometo que vivirás nuevas y excitantes experiencias positivas, solo tienes que creer en estas letras que escribo que son la esencia de un amor donde el sol salió para no ponerse.
La vida es un recorrido, un viaje que se transcurre solo. Pero en la compañía de aquellos que decidieron amarnos. El amor no tiene que ser difícil, pero el amor tampoco es fácil. El amor es algo que carece de entendimiento, solo de sentimiento, es algo que se siente o no se siente. Y al contemplar la vida, decides que nada es más bonito que una sonrisa.
Tal ves el tiempo transcurre, y pasa como el viento, algo que no se ve, pero se siente cada ves que nos miramos al espejo. Con cada sol y cada luna la vida pasa entre momentos felices y tristes. Pero solo aquel que aprendió a disfrutar de ambos puede ser feliz.
En las noches dormirás tranquila. Por que la Gracia de un amor es eliminar tus preocupaciones y hacer de la vida unas vacaciones. Y vivir sin estar pendiente del mañana, ni del ayer. Comprender que la vida es un abrir y cerrar de ojos y que todo está en constante cambio.
No sabrás la diferencia entre soñar y estar despierta. Llegarán días mucha alegría y días donde el dolor parece ser lo único en nuestras vidas. Pero aquí entre tú y yo siempre habrá amor que sea como un puente entre lo real y la fantasía.
Duerme amada mía duerme tranquila que este amor es tuyo y tuyo únicamente. No importa cuantas lunas brillen sobre nosotros o si nuestros cabellos fueron teñidos de gris mi amor por ti será como el primer día. No hay nadie sobre esta tierra que me haga suspirar como tú lo haces por tu amor.
Buenas Noches Doncella que la luz de mi corazón te guíe siempre y que nunca tengas que soltar lágrimas por ninguna razón. Duerme amada mía y sueña con todo lo que que Dios quiere mostrarte. Y si algún día me agracias con tu amor entonces será el día en que la tierra se detuvo a ver cómo dos almas se unían.

Adapted from my post on Artemision that explains on how Artemis was an important part of the marriage process for the Ancient Greeks.
While Artemis herself rejects any and all sexual advances and remain single, she was quite involved in the process of young men and women getting together, getting married, and helps them raise a family.
As Artemis watches and guides a person's life, marriage and entering into society were few of the biggest milestones in a person's life.
In general, girls were expected to be celibate until marriage. One of Artemis' main tasks is to help girls prepare for marriage by their late teens and taught them the skills needed to be a good wife and mother. Artemis also watched over boys as well, as her shrines and sacred spaces were close to where boys learned and trained, such as gyms.

Artemis as Matchmaker

One of the typical interactions of Artemis and young men is the assistance of the Goddess to ensure the young man gets a wife. The places and events of Artemis provided opportunity for young men to find a young woman to marry.
Artemisian festivals were widespread across Ancient Greece.
Choral dances were universal in the festivals of Artemis. The activity was part of the social process of learning to co-operate with others and work in a team. Girls frequently attend Artemisian festivals and participate in the choral dances as a group.
Girls who participated in choral dances publicly demonstrated that they were ready for marriage. One time Aphrodite deceived a young man named Anchises by lying to him that she was in the chorus of Artemis and thus she was mature enough for marriage.
Another activity during Artemisian festivals that was great for teenage boys and girls could meet were the processions that were universal in Artemis celebrations.
Plato highly recommended Artemisian festivals as the ideal controlled environment for young men and women to choose good marriage partners.
One man named Menander said in a letter:

“I visited Ephesos and fell in love. In honor of Artemis of Ephesos there was a procession of girls carrying offerings.” (Men. Kith. 94, translated by N. Miller)

Speaking of Ephesus, in the Ephesian Tales by Xenophon of Ephesus it featured a Artemisian marriage festival that occurred in the month of Artemis. During the festivities, young men and women from and around Ephesus can find their future spouse. After the young men and women found their partner, they all dress up in elaborate and colorful clothes. They then walked as a procession to the Temple of Artemis. They were accompanied with music and dancing and sang hymns to Artemis with her images surround the procession. At the Artemision the newlyweds confirmed their marriages with a sacrifice to Artemis.
Also, certain (desperate) boys even invoked Artemis with her Ephesian grammata as a love spell to try get the girl they like to fell in love with him. Whether or not they were successful is unknown.

Oaths of Marriage

Swearing oaths of marriage were kind of equivalent to being engaged. Promises of marriage were usually done under Artemis.
The commandment of “You shall not take Yahweh's (the LORD's) name in vain”, which essentially means do not break your promises, nor make false promises. This applies perfectly with Artemis. Promises, vows, and oaths under Artemis were taken quite serious with dire consequences for those who intentionally break the promise. Those who break their vows will have their way of life thrown off by Artemis as punishment, through death or failure.
Themes of a character who had near-death experiences when they (un)willing came close to breaking their oaths were widespread as recounted in many stories by Kallimachus, Nicander, Antoninus, and others.
A certain man named Diogenes promised to Artemis to do whatever task his love, Polycrite requested in order to have her hand in marriage.
In Leucippe and Clitophon, Artemis appeared to Leucippe in a dream and said to her: "Weep no more, for I'll always protect you. You must keep your virginity until I bedeck you as bride; and none other than Clitophon will wed you". Later they made their promise of marriage at the Temple of Artemis.

Pre-Marriage Rituals

Premarital sacrifices were dedicated to Artemis as thanks and ensured her continued protection. Offering hair were common and depending on the region, offerings were dedicated to legendary people close to Artemis, such as Hippolytus and others.
When a girl began menstruation, she's given a special girdle to mark the occasion. Later they would offer their girdle to Artemis.
However it's an extremely bad omen if the newlyweds forgets to honor Artemis. The failure to worship Artemis in ancient Greek culture was seen as sacrilegious, as we see in a number myths that have Artemis punishing those who neglect to worship her.
In Ephesus there's a fun ceremony before the newlyweds got married. The bride ritually runs to the Temple of Artemis and clings to the columns and the groom tries to get her to let go! This reflects the wife-to-be as temporary leaving to domain of Artemis.

The Wedding

While generally Artemis have little to do in the actual wedding ceremony. After the marriage Artemis hands the newlyweds to Hera and Aphrodite. Once the wife conceives Artemis returns to help the new mother and act as a midwife. Her husband in the meantime can appealed to Artemis on his wife's behalf in rituals. If the pregnancy is successful, then Artemis would help reared the next generation of people and continue the cycle.
However, in Ephesus, Artemis Ephesia was much more involved in the wedding process as she was called upon during the wedding to protect the newlyweds and to ensure a secure marriage. The priest walks around the couple and recite the Ephesian grammata to grant them Artemis' protection from any evil spirits that were believed to caused infertility and other evils.
Later, during the official wedding night, the bride will wear a new girdle. Before her husband removes her girdle, he would asked Artemis for her final permission to untie his wife's girdle to embrace her.
From the number of occasions that Artemis untied a girl's girdle and was given girdles, Artemis has the epithet " Lysizo′na", meaning “releaser of the girdle” (Rietveld's Artemis of the Ephesians @ 1::11:00).
Further reading:
BIOΣ ~ APTEMIΣ (BIOS ARTEMIS) by Mary Galvin, notably p. 286-288
James Rietveld's "Artemis of the Ephesians" youtube lecture
Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to clearly conveyed Artemis' importance in the marriage process, as she's the goddess that oversees milestones and life transitions in a person's life and the society.
Original post with some nice images of Artemis in anime style: https://new.reddit.com/Artemision/comments/142fd5o/artemis_notes_artemis_and_marriage/
In Artemis.

Bonjour,
Du contexte : je me rendais à la pharmacie pour récupérer un traitement.
Une fois sur place, j'y croise un ancien camarade de classe de primaire avec lequel je n'ai plus eu aucun contact depuis lors, soit il y a bien 25 ans (au bas mot). Merde, j'en croise rarement (ou alors ils ne me reconnaissent pas), fallait que ça tombe sur lui.
Je me souviens qu'on n'était pas les meilleurs amis du monde, déjà, à l'époque. Pour faire court, il faisait montre d'une certaine sournoiserie, toujours à créer des histoires à base 'Machin m'a dit que Y avait fait ou dit telle chose sur toi' (ce qui, le plus souvent était faux ou alors largement déformé).
Plus tard, cette personne a trempé dans pas mal d'affaires assez sordides (petites escroqueries, trafics de drogue, etc...). Toujours à essayer d'attirer d'autres personnes dans ses rets. Il a peut-être changé mais du souvenir que j'en ai conservé et des échos qui me sont parvenus de temps à autre, c'est vraiment pas une personne 'saine'.
Bref, c'est le genre de pseudo-amis d'enfance qu'on se passerait volontiers de recroiser ^.
Il prend sa commande, on se salue (à la réflexion, je me demande comment il a fait pour me reconnaître : 25 ans de plus, des kilos supplémentaires, masqué...physionomiste le bonhomme !) puis il s'en va.
Le traitement de ma commande prend un certain temps suite à un souci administratif.
Je ressors : manque de chance, il était sur le parking de la pharmacie mais en pleine conversation téléphonique... Je trace ma route normalement à un rythme de marche constant, sans ralentir ni forcer l'allure. Double déveine, il m'interpelle ! J'ai un petit trouble auditif mais je l'ai bien entendu m'appeler plusieurs fois, de plus en plus fort à mesure que je m'éloignais (je lui tournais le dos, partant dans la direction opposée).
Aucune envie d'échanger avec lui surtout dans le contexte actuel, je ne développe pas car pas l'objet du post mais pas mal de soucis persos en ce moment font que je n'ai pas envie de m'infliger des interactions pénibles si je peux l'éviter...) alors j'ai continué mon chemin comme si de rien n'était. Il n'a pas été jusqu'à me courir après, heureusement mais il a crié assez fort, apparemment, vu la réaction des passants que je croisais en sens inverse.
Je suis partagé : - d'un côté je culpabilise un petit peu en me disant 'tout de même, c'est drôlement impoli d'agir de la sorte. Imagine si on te faisais la même chose ?' - de l'autre, je me dis 'tu as refusé une interaction aussi pénible que superflue avec une personne potentiellement toxique. Bien joué ! Mais tu aurais sûrement pu désamorcer la situation d'emblée en feignant de ne pas le reconnaître du tout...à méditer pour la prochaine fois ^' A noter que pendant un certain temps (on va dire toute mon enfance, l'adolescence et une partie de ma vie de jeune adulte), j'avais tendance à être beaucoup trop sympa, ce qui m'a valu de me faire avoir dans les grandes largeurs à plusieurs reprises. Mais mon métier (infirmier) m'a bien endurci, depuis je suis beaucoup plus ferme et intransigeant.
Qu'en pensez-vous ? Suis-je le trou de balle :D ? Cela vous est déjà arrivé (dans un sens comme dans l'autre) ?

Vengo con una situación gente se reddit actualmente tengo un contacto que trae cosas de estados unidos sin pagar en aduanas me cobra 10$ por libra sin embargo quería ver si alguien podría darme un contacto para saltar aduanas pero con cosas de China

Hi everyone.
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
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Memory transcription subject: Thiva, Venlil Civilian
Date [standardized human time]: December 6th, 2136
​
Thank the Protector for Vilek.
She had stepped up in every possible way. She coached me on the right answers to give to the assessors. She worked with a Krakotl named Jarkim to keep the Exterminator’s office at bay. And she took care of answering questions from a reporter named Sharnet that reached out to me since both the humans who contacted her, mister Sinclair and Martin, had fallen prey to the Liberators.
This was the paw where I got to leave the hospital. My injuries were actually quite minor (or so they claimed), but they had kept me under observation for several paws to see if I’d display Predator Disease after everything that happened. There was a real risk that after all that, after what Martin sacrificed for me, I’d just end up in a Facility.
At first I thought I probably should be. I was happy that Renak was dead, and I wanted Vansi to die too. For the first couple of paws just thinking about being tied in that chair with Renak whistling and leaning over me with his knife and claws and teeth… it made me shake and scream, once even until I soiled myself.
Thinking about what Vansi had done to Martin made me shriek with anger and throw things and tear curtains. Vilek had stayed by my side though, and helped cover up the incidents each time. Without her I’d be in a Facility for sure.
Then she got me in contact with a human assessor over video calls, a man named doctor Johan Eriksson with ice-blue eyes and a lot of yellow fur all over his face. And just as Martin had promised, Johan was aghast at hearing about the Federation’s treatment of Predator Disease. Johan promised me that my feelings were entirely normal, and that he’d help me work through everything.
​
I’ve had three calls with him since then, and while every one of them ended with me in tears I always felt better afterwards. He was teaching me a system called ‘Mindfulness’. By examining my own emotions and surroundings in a neutral way, it was possible for me to significantly reduce the symptoms! And it was working, it really was. I was more able to manage my emotions. I could recognize when the world was fading into a furious orange or horrid gray, and pull myself back from the brink.
And he said there were other coping strategies to use too, that he’d be providing me with all the tools I needed to grow myself like a garden: Pruning the bad parts, watering the good, and planting the seeds of the sort of person I wanted to grow into.
The humans love their metaphors! But this one was rather beautiful, so I didn’t mind. I quite liked to imagine myself as a garden! But not the ones on Venlil Prime. One of the ones on Earth. Johan had showed me pictures. So full of different colors, dozens of types of insects, so many birds… an explosion of life and color and joy!
That’s the kind of garden I wanted to be. Someday.
​
Coming back home was tough. Not just because I had to pick between being woozy from painkillers or aching with all the little motions of daily life (I had settled on being woozy), but also because of all the little reminders.
Vilek had pressured the landlord into replacing the front door, but the new color reminded me of the break-in. The door to Martin’s room was entirely absent. Martin was entirely absent.
I didn’t feel safe sleeping in my bed. Vilek let me share hers. I woke up crying and feeling her claws stroking through my fur to comfort me.
I was grateful, truly grateful, for my friend. But she wasn’t the one I wanted to hold me.
A claw later I screamed when the pad rang for a phone call, and had to sit and do my mindfulness exercises while Vilek answered it.
She hung up in a hurry and rushed over to me and grasped my paw. “Thiva, we have to get to the hospital! Right now!”
​
---
​
Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: December 11th, 2136
​
I am in more pain than at any other point in my entire life.
Every single part of my being hurts on a level so deep I can feel it in my soul, and I don’t even believe those exist.
My tears are flowing freely and shamelessly. My mouth is open and my drool tastes alkaline, my throat trying to shield itself from the vomit that’s threatening to flow forth.
Taking a single step requires more willpower than I can even wrap my head around. Every single muscle has to be tensed manually, my brain simply refuses to pass the ‘walk’ signal to the body. My shaking limbs move in slow motion, like wading through thick non-Newtonian fluid. Like an arthritic, decrepit old man.
And always that voice. That fucking voice. That fucking voice I need to shut it up I hate you I hate you so much I hate you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you
​
“Good job, Martin! One more step, c’mon, you can do it! Gold star!”
“fuck you… fuck you… fuck you… fuck you…” The mantra helps me manage the last step, before I collapse. First to my knees, then down to my hands. Then onto my face, on the soft and spongy floor.
Chasa, my Zurulian arch-nemesis, pads over to me fearlessly and sits down. She licks a paw before stroking it through my hair, giving me a cowlick. “Great job! I can tell you’ve been doing your exercises! Good boy!”
I can’t move my limbs right now. “hate you. hate you so much.”
She pads over to a small teddy bear-sized table and holds up my medical file. She’s had it printed out on actual paper with an actual manila folder, just for this purpose. “That’s fine! You don’t hate the gold star, though, do you?”
“…that’s for children…”
“Oh, so you don’t want it?”
I growl as menacingly as I can. It’s not particularly impressive. She holds up the little gold star sticker and wags it at me, before placing it on my file. She doesn’t seem particularly afraid of me. Though to be fair, even though she weighs maybe 20 kilos soaking wet she could probably take me in a fight.
Chasa looked up human physical therapy before taking on my case, and apparently learned about this incentive system… someplace. Each session she gives me a gold star if I manage to go above and beyond. I hate it. It’s infantilizing, condescending, and juvenile. And it works. I want the gold star. This is my fifth fucking physical therapy session and I want my fifth fucking gold star. It’s the least she can do after she makes me torture myself.
“Fantastic work! Alright, so after third-meal I want you to try and walk around your bed. Back and forth, as many times as you can. And remember to rotate your arm!”
“ah, i see. you hate me too.”
Chasa looks immensely happy and pleased as a couple of Venlil nurses get me onto a too-small gurney. She takes a little sugar and salt treat from a bowl for cubs or pups or whatever, and walks over to place it in my lap. “See you next paw, Martin!”
I will find a way to pay her back for this.
​
I woke up around five or six paws ago with tubes in every orifice on my body, and was very surprised to find myself alive.
The full story only came later. Slavik and Jarkim had taken out one of the Liberators, but Jarkim had gotten badly wounded as a result. As soon as they had dumped Jarkim back at the truck, Slavik double-timed it to the house. They passed Thiva and Mosun on the way, and managed to arrive in time to stop Vansi from setting me on fire. By shooting her.
Not that that would’ve mattered, considering my massive blood loss and organ damage and being stuck out in the middle of Fuckoff Nowheresota.
The fact that there was a UN army base about two dozen miles away saved me, as their helicopters showed up to take over the scene and haul all the injured to the hospital. The medics were able to get to me within the Golden Hour. Though considering the extent of my injuries it was apparently closer to the Golden Ten Minutes.
Since then I had been in a medically induced coma while the hospital grew replacements for just about every single one of my organs. To hear tell of it, I’d have had no chance long-term without the Zurulians’ almost unfathomably advanced technology. The alien teddy bears were able to salvage my broken body, even though it’s likely that my left leg, left arm, and right hand will never be the same again.
And now I get to torture myself back to health. Oh joy.
​
My lambchops have been showing up every day or paw or whatever for visiting hours, and staying each time until they’re chased out by the nurses.
Each time I see them enter my room it feels better than a shot of whatever the aliens use instead of morphine; the sight of them together and safe lifts my spirits and puts a smile on my face.
We spend most of our time watching movies or TV shows on the pad, while they take turns holding my hand or stroking my head. I pet them back as much as I can, but for now both that and talking for any length of time are too draining.
They’ve been showing me some of the classic works of the Venlil. I’ve been showing them classics of humanity.
“Hey Blondie! You know what you are?! Just a dirty sonofa-” Aaa-aa-aaaaa!
The lambchops whistle with joyful laughter, releasing the tension of the long finale of the finest Western of all time.
Thiva sighs with relief. “Oh Protector, I really thought he was going to kill Tuco!”
“No way, he’s ‘The good’ of the title! And it was a call-back to the first part of the film where he kept shooting him down, there’s no way they wouldn’t take the opportunity to tie it all together!”
“Yeah, I guess… Is that seriously what humans considered ‘good’ back then?”
I interject. “You could argue that Blondie is supposed to be ‘the good’, but he’s really more like the ‘least bad’. The people making the movie were living under a dictatorship, so a lot of films from the nation of Spain around that time were made from a very cynical point of view.”
Thiva leans against me and runs her claws through my hair, making me shiver. “You haven’t been showing us a lot of movies with war in them, but they’re apparently pretty common for humans?”
I give a nod. “Yes. We’ve always had a complex relationship with war and violence. You might’ve noticed that this movie took a very somber perspective, largely viewing the war as pointless. While it was a controversial conflict in the past, nowadays the common view of the US civil war is that it was a necessary conflict to end the evils of chattel slavery.”
Vilek is silent for a short bit. “So like Blondie, violence isn’t necessarily good, but sometimes it’s the least bad.”
“Oh, I like that. That’s clever.”
She wags her tail. “Alright, what’s next on the list?”
“Next… I do my exercises, before I get too tired. Can you girls help me get into the leg brace? Can’t walk at all without the damn thing.”
​
They help manhandle me into a standing position and latch the leg brace, and I can start my agonizingly slow and agonizingly agonizing journey around the bed and back again.
To keep my mind off of the pain, and because I can’t loudly curse my beloved lambchops out like I can my arch-nemesis Chasa, I try to talk instead. “S-So… I’ve been looking into… human universities… that’ll take both of you… and ideally… transfer your… credits…”
Vilek wags encouragingly, and helps support me on my slow journey. “That’s great! We can all head to Earth instead and I can become a human assess-no, therapist!”
Thiva sighs. “Honestly, I like the sound of that. I feel safer around humans than around Venlil at this point.”
“Great… I’ll let you know… once I hear back…” Shit that topic didn’t last long. Okay what else what else “How’s that… trial thing… coming along…?”
Thiva grumbles. “The Liberators plead guilty today… including Vansi, who was being tried as a member of the group.” She had survived, but Slavik’s plasma rifle had seared her arm off at the shoulder.
“No media’s being allowed in the courtroom, to ensure they don’t get an audience for their views. The sentence hasn’t come down yet but it looks like none of them are going to feel the free breeze again for as long as they live.”
“Can’t say… I feel bad…”
“It’s too good for them!”
“The state… shouldn’t get… to do worse… than imprison… fuck, I’m done, please help.” My leg gives out and I’m left to cling to the bed frame until the girls intervene.
They help me back onto the bed before Vilek speaks. “…Even someone like Kalsim?”
​
I nod, sweat covering my body in a thin sheen. I take a deep drink of water and wait a few moments before answering. “Yeah… Kalsim’s not a threat in a jail cell. The state has a monopoly on violence, and shouldn’t get to use it to kill people just because we’re upset at them.”
Thiva frowns. “What about justice, though? Don’t people deserve to see those that have hurt them get punished?”
I shake my head. “That’s not justice. See it like this… Why not eat him?”
The girls look disgusted. I press on. “See… If killing him as punishment is fine, then just beating him up has to be fine too. Right? That’s less bad than killing him. And torture, that’s still less bad than killing. And if killing is fine, how about killing him extra painfully like by setting him on fire? And at that point we might as well eat him. I mean, why not?”
Thiva protests. “Because… Because that’s barbaric! You humans don’t eat sapients, you all say so!”
I nod firmly. “Yeah, exactly. Because it is barbaric. State punishment is just barbarism, just sadism to make the worst part of us feel better. Once we agree that it’s acceptable to do that to anyone, all we’re doing is haggling over price. There was a human philosopher named Nietzsche. He said ‘Beware of those in whom the urge to punish is strong’, and I think that’s the sort of thing he meant. Not just to beware of people in power who seek out punishment for people they have power over, but… to beware that part of ourselves.”
The girls are silent for a moment. I take a slow drink of water and speak more, even though it’s really tiring by now. But this is important.
“Listen, Vilek… When you study to become a therapist, please keep something in mind. Predator Disease doesn’t exist. Not even Renak had Predator Disease.”
Vilek frowns confusedly and bursts out. “What?! But you said he was a ‘textbook psychopath’! You said he was a monster who didn’t feel empathy! You said so yourself!”
“Yes, I did. But in human society… the majority of people with that condition are not actually more dangerous than anyone else. Because they can be taught coping mechanisms, by therapists, to fit into society. Renak was a monster because Venlil society, and Vansi, failed him.”
Thiva protests. “But…”
I shake my head. “Nobody is born a monster. And even in cases where people are truly unsalvageable for whatever reason… what’s the point in punishing them for it? Thiva, I didn’t shoot your brother because he was a psychopath. I shot him to keep you safe. Slavik didn’t shoot your mother because she was an abuser, they shot her because she was about to set me on fire. If someone shot Kalsim at this point… how would that make anyone safer?”
I sigh and take another slow drink of water. “...Christ, I do not have the energy for this heavy stuff right now. Next film, girls, what’ll it be?”
They start bickering, apparently as happy to be distracted from the topic as I am. Every time it’s their turn to pick they end up fighting over it, you’d think they’d make a list ahead of time instead. “Flower-bird Red!” “Fainting for You!” “Garden in the Stars!” “Okay, yeah, that’s good. Remake or original?” “Original, obviously!” “But the remake-” “We can just show him both!” “Okay, deal!”
I don’t end up remembering a blessed thing about the film. With the girls cuddled up to me on the Mazic-size bed I’ve been given for use since they apparently lacked human-size ones, I fall asleep by the end of the opening credits.
​
Date [standardized human time]: December 14th, 2136
​
“Hey human, you got visitors.” The nurse informs me. I glance at the clock on my pad, which I had set to count down to the lambchops’ daily visit. Still half a claw out.
Instead of my cherished friends, I see two other people step into the room. A Venlil, and Robert McGinley.
“…Hey Bob. You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up.” I jest from the hospital bed. McGinley doesn’t seem to find it amusing.
“Russo.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to show up, to be honest. Who’s your friend?”
“District Magister Vaska. Russo, we need you to sign-”
“Fuck off, McGinley.”
“If you don’t sign these documents, your refugee status can be rescinded.”
“No it can’t. Literally, there’s a list of reasons I can have my refugee status taken away, and ‘not signing hush documents’ isn’t on the list.”
McGinley gives me a tiny smile. On his blank face that might as well be an ear-to-ear grin. “But it can be if you’ve been charged with a crime in the host sovereignty.”
I nod. “Yeah, that is true. I don’t even need to be convicted.”
“So-”
“So I haven’t been charged with anything yet. And if I had to guess, I’m not going to be.”
McGinley scowls. Vaska scowls beside him too.
​
I continue. Talking is a bit tiring, but not as bad as it was just a few days ago. “Because if I’m charged with a crime, I’ll need to take the witness stand. And I can have ex-officer Jarkim take the stand. And you don’t want that. Because the raid on the Liberators’ compound here in Greenmeadow was ‘a heroic joint operation between the UN and the Exterminators’ office, approved by Governor Tarva herself’.”
Now Vaska speaks up. His voice is trembling with anger. “A stunt that you forced us to engage in! I had to call the governor on the emergency line to get approval for it! A UN military operation on sovereign Venlil soil!”
“I’m not going to apologize for making you do your fucking job.”
McGinley takes a step forward. I don’t bother to flinch back, since I can’t exactly run anywhere anyway. Instead I just look up at him passively and wait for him to say something. “It’s in your best interests to play nice, Russo.”
“Because that worked out so well for both of us last time. Remember ‘An inferno of incredible horror’? Pretty great article, really. ‘The Liberators Unveiled: Terror and death in Greenmeadow’ was killer too. Do you really want to go for a third, about what really happened to VP’s little homegrown terrorist cell that was literally funded with the salaries of the Exterminators in it?”
The ‘Liberators Unveiled’ article had run while I was comatose, revealing the full truth of the shelter arson and the identities of the Liberators involved. However, it had neither contradicted nor reaffirmed the official government narrative about the ‘joint operation’ that took the bastards down.
McGinley is practically snarling now, putting both hands on my hospital bed and making it shake a bit. I wince with pain, while he raises his voice for the first time in either of my meetings with the man. “You can’t be allowed to just run around doing whatever you want. There have to be consequences for your actions, Russo!”
I nod solemnly. “I agree. That’s what the law is for. So charge me with a crime, or fuck off.”
He shakes the bed slightly. There’s a few beeps from some of the machinery monitoring me and making sure I’m still alive. Vaska looks a bit taken aback. “You nearly ruined the whole investigation; you almost destabilized the relationship between humanity and the Venlil!”
I take a steadying breath. He’s being overly dramatic. “So charge me with a crime, or fuck off.”
McGinley snarls and slams a bundle of papers down on the bedside table. “I’m offering you a chance to change your mind.”
I glance at the papers, then lift them up with more effort than I’d like to admit and drop them directly into the waste bin.
I wave my hand, tired of this pointless farce. “No, seriously. Fuck off, McGinley. Magister, a word of advice. If you want my silence, try offering some hush money next time. Us humans are a lot more partial to bribes than to threats.”
They storm out.
Guess I won’t be going to jail. The rest of the posse will be fine too, then.
I lean back and sigh and try to take a nap. I don’t want to still be pissed off when the lambchops show up. I have something important to show them.
Some of the universities I’ve reached out to have answered back.
---
Sharnet is of course the very same from u/Acceptable_Egg5560's inimitable The Nature of a Giant.
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Hola! Actualmente no estoy en Venezuela y ningún allegado sabe de estas cosas así que aprovecho para preguntar acá. Alguien conoce alguna compañía de encomiendas que haga reempaques y envíe los paquetes hasta Maracay?
Una amiga necesita pedir unas cosas y me dice que la compañía que planeaba usar (Akcesoria) subió mucho el precio de la libra y que OneWayCargo le sale un poco cara porque le cobran 16% de IVA en bolívares y preferiría encontrar otra compañía que le acepte PayPal. Le comenté de Liberty que es lo que usaba yo en Caracas pero el tema del reempaque parece no salirle factible.
También mencionó que le gustaría que para el reempaque tuvieran la posibilidad de mantener la mercancía allí por alrededor de un mes para que el Courier mande todo al mismo tiempo, pero no sé qué tan plausible sea eso (yo al solo usar Liberty y pagar el envío tan pronto como llegaran los paquetes a la warehouse, no tengo noción de cuánto pueden tardar estas cosas)
Cualquier recomendación es agradecida!! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

(La idea del post no es una crítica al género, sino una reflexión de como maneja el dead space el miedo y la tensión. Aclaro que este post no quiere decir que un survival horror es mejor que otro por el miedo que da, las comparaciones que hago son mas que nada para ponerle contexto a mí opinión sobre Dead Space)
He jugado a muchos survival horrors y juegos de terror, desde alone in the dark 1 hasta ese alone in the dark raro de ps2 con secciones de coches, tambien los resident evil, los silent hill, el outlast, el de la rubia y el perro del ps2 que no me acuerdo el nombre, entre otros, y no se si tengo el honor o la maldicion de que ninguno me dio miedo. Los resident evil clasicos me los tome con mucho humor fingiendo ser messi esquivando zombis, perdon a los fans del monte silencioso pero la niebla y los ruiditos mal rolleros no me incomadan, creci en un barrio donde literalmente una vez a un tipo lo corrio una tipa con un machete asi que ya estoy acostumbrado a los ruidos flasheros, ademas de que al tener un arma en mano nunca siento pánico en los juegos ya que por mas jodida que sea la pelea es tan facil como disparar o correr, ademas que los jugos con controles tanque hay cierto apuntado automatico y es verdad que los controles son incomodos pero nunca me hicieron sentir vulnerable.
En cuanto a juegos modernos pues un grito en una pantalla es un sustito pero no da miedo, es mas, me hice tremendo speed run del outlast en modo demente y fue la primera speed que me hice en mi vida ¿Saben por que la hice? Por que jugando de normal me di cuenta de como predecir a los enemigos y como corriendo era practicamente inmortal, además de que sabía que en el peor de los casos solo me llevaría un susto y poco mas, lo cual me permitía animarme más a explorar los escenario sin escondemerme ya que no lo sentía necesario, pero por primera ves en mí vida sentí miedo en un videojuego.
En dead space tenes armas, podes combatir, podes defenderte, podes huir, el control es comodo (A excepcion quizas de la camara en algunas partes), te podes curar de manera rapida con un botón, podes comprar municion y aún con todo ello me senti mas vulnerable que nunca ¿Por que? Pues por que los combates dependian de mi, en un survival horror clasico cuando disparabas un armas lo unico que hacias era apretar un boton para que el personaje levantase dicho arma y otro para disparar, no apuntabas como tal, si es verdad que te quedabas quieto y por ende vulnerable, pero una ves aprendías las velocidades de los bichos pues era una partida de ajedrez donde te acomodabas estrategicamente y atacabas, en dead space eso no pasa, aqui podes apuntar a los puntos débiles de los enemigos y fallar balas.
Lo que más me gustó del juego es que los enemigos si son enemigos, aqui los aliens corren, saltan, esquivan, trepan por las paredes, te atacan por las espaldas con velocidad, esa es la palabra clave de los enemigos, la velocidad; creo que nunca me senti tan nervioso al ver un enemigo delante, escuchar uno detras y de pronto ver como el de adelante se me avalanza corriendo a toda velocidad agitando sus garras, en esa situacion podes disparar a las piernas para que caiga al piso y sea mas facil de esquivar, pero mientras lo haces podes fallar tiros y quedarte vendido, encerrado en un pasillo con dos aliens que te despedazan, ademas que nunca sabes que tan lejos esta el alien de atras asi que tambien estas siempre alerta esperando un golpe de la espalda que quizas ni llegue, pero aun asi lo esperas y eso es lo que te pone tenso. Uno de mis momentos favoritos fue una vez donde me quede sin municion de mis armas buenas y me quedaba solo una especie de motocierra, es muy buena arma pero tiene la desventaja que ataca a corta distancia, la peor parte es que me paso en una sala llena de enemigos donde sabia que si me detenia a atacar me atacarian de todos los flancos, lo que hice fue correr por instinto, quiero remarcar esa frase, correr por instinto, no sabia donde iba o que tenia que hacer siquiera, no tenia un plan, solo queria correr para alejarme de ahi; Termine en un pasillo donde todos los enemigos se me quedaron en fila y pude usar la motosierra, fue un festival de sangre, las partes de los aliens salian volando, recibí varios golpes y casi me matan, pero tras un rato mi cierra logro acabar con el ultimo monstruo, baje el arma y mi personaje al estar herido estaba respirando con dolor y su cuerpo parecia cansado ¿Como estaba yo en la vida real? Respirando con agitacion y con la adrenalina a tope, si, si me mataban el chekpoint se recargaba y ya esta, a volver a intentarlo, pero creanme que en ese momento ni se me pasó por la cabeza, simplemente queria terminar esa batalla.
No quiero contar mas anecdotas para no arruinarle la experiencia a nadie pero solo dire que por momentos asi este juego me dio miedo, por momentos de desesperacion, de donde a pesar de tener armas y recursos me sentia debil ya que un error te puede costar la vida, puedo tener curas pero si resivo muchos ataques se gastan en 2 segundos, podes tener mucha municion pero si fallas las balas podes quedar seco en una oleada grande, podes realentizar enemigos con una habilidad pero incluso a esa la podes fallar y antes que te des cuenta el enemigo al que se la lanzaste está corriendo hacia ti.
Tambien cabe mencionar que el juego no tiene casi nada de menus, aca al abrir el mapa o el inventario el juego no se pausa, en varias peleas me paso de no estar seguro si tenia curas o no, tampoco sabia cuanta municion de reserva me quedaba y cada ves que recargaba rezaba por tener al menos un cargador completo, tambien uno de los momentos mas duros es estar en una zona con un "Boss" y al apretar el boton para curarme me di cuenta que no tenía más botiquines, ese momento de tension no me paso en ningun juego ya que, por ejemplo, en resident evil podia ver mi inventario y si no tenia mas plantas pues eh, al menos ya se que no tengo y puedo ir mas cuidadosamente, pero aca, pues auque antes de entrar a una habitacion podes ver tu inventario en el caos de los tiros no te pones a contar balas.
También remarcó el ambiente sonoro, los monstruos se mueven por los ductos de aire, los podes escuchar arrastrarse por allí, por las paredes o techos, además que de las salidas de dichos ductos pueden salir estos bichos o lo que es peor, no salen, muchas veces verás una de estas salidas a lo lejos y tendrás que pasar por ese lado, sin saber si saldrá un monstruo o no pasará nada, ahí tu instinto de supervivencia se activará y tendrás el arma preparada auque solo termines apunando a la pared. Para finalizar solo dire esto, en dead space tu tienes el control total del personaje, si fallas tiros fue tu culpa, si no lograste esquivar un enemigo fue tu culpa, si desperdiciaste tus recursos fue tu culpa, si gastaste mal tu dinero fue tu culpa, todo depende de ti y eso, al menos en mi caso, al superar las batallas gracias a mi habilidades me hizo sentir un superviviente del horror.
Ustedes al leer la parte final: https://youtu.be/6gQgBKbI0GI
Aclaraciones: Jugué en difícil y sin guías o referencias. A todos los juegos de terror los juego solo, de noche y con auriculares. Me encantan todas las sagas que mencioné y considero que son obras de arte que todos deben jugar. No digo que dead space sea mejor que ningún otro survival horror, hay cosas que me gustan más de las otras sagas, como sus historias o personajes. No digo que dead space sea un juegazo, tampoco lo analizo aquí, solo hago una reflexión sobre el género. Si tenés una opinión distinta a la mía pues es lo normal, capaz a vos no te dio miedo o si te dan miedo las otras sagas, está es una opinión personal. Lamento las faltas de ortografía, escribo desde el teléfono y no estoy acostumbrado. Gracias por leer :)

Many praises to u/SpacePaladin15 for this universe.
Credit again to u/TheManwithaNoPlan for helping edit!
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Memory transcript: Rolem, High Magister of Dawn Creek. Date: [Standardized human time] October 3rd, 2136
When Vulen first sent his proposal to the Magister of Land and Housing, it had almost immediately been sent on to me for full consideration. It was very intriguing. Enough so that I set up an actual meeting with him to discuss. He had some legal issues he wished to deal with through this proposal. All the more reason for me to talk in person.
Which resulted in both him and Tarlim’s lawyer sitting across from me in my office. Venric’s wool had been freshly groomed, apparent by the clean lines running across his body. Vulen…less so. It’s clear that the stresses of dealing with his former partners has taken a toll on him, but yet I could still see a determination in him. I doubted even the pressure of Venlil Prime’s core could break it. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, High Magister Rolem.”
I bowed to him respectfully. “The pleasure is mine, Vulen. I presume the ‘legal troubles’ you spoke of in our correspondence is why Venric is accompanying you today?”
Vulen looked like he wanted to spit. “My previous… ‘partners’ were much too used to my abilities of controlling and filing paperwork.”
“Your name was still on Tarlim’s employment contract,” Venric stated. “Thus you are still legally responsible for the illegal firing.”
“Yes,” the landlord bared his teeth, “and realizing that, my ‘partners’ decided to do the business equivalent of dragging my name through the mud before I got all the contracts fully broken. I left internal maintenance services and employment in the paws of Darula when we drafted our contract. You can see how that’s coming back to bite me now.”
I flicked my ears in polite sympathy. “Still, may you two explain Venric’s presence?”
The landlord glares at the lawyer. “Part of my proposal includes a… settlement to get me off the lawsuit.”
“And my client has given me a minimum settlement,” Venric adds, “with open field for me to agree to a settlement that exceeds on their behalf.” He bowed to me. “They felt it prudent to avoid coming here in person after the last… incident here.”
Ah yes, that was truly a regrettable circumstance, especially with the hindsight I had acquired since. I flicked my ears in the affirmative. “That is completely understandable. So long as all the correct forms are filed, that shouldn’t be an issue. Now, shall we discuss your proposal?”
Vulen’s mood visibly brightened when I said that. I would certainly be looking through the entirety of this document. “Certainly. We can begin with Section 1, paragraph 1.” With that, I started reading through the proposal. What I found ranged from reasonable to absurd, and I would certainly be making my thoughts on the latter clear to Vulen in due time. Once I had made it through in a little under a quarter claw, I cleared my throat to speak.
“Okay, let’s be clear first,” I pulled up a copy of his proposal on my data pad. “You say that you have 350 empty units that you are willing to set aside as housing for Gojid refugees.”
“Yes, and please note the specifics,” he responded. “That comes out to 150 single bedrooms, 75 double bedrooms, 75 triple bedrooms, and 50 flats. With two occupants per bedroom, that’s 1,450 Gojid that can be accommodated. And if you stretch it to three per bedroom, that’s 2,175 Gojid refugees who would then have roofs over their heads.”
“Indeed. A good range,” I tapped on my pad, “and in exchange for this, you would have this district pay you one-and-a-half rotations rent for all the units up front.”
I heard Venric whistle as they did the math in their head. It appeared that Vulen’s greed hadn’t abated even a bit since we last met. And going by the lawyers wagging tail, neither had theirs. Considering the settlement he got in Glowhallow with the human, even I would have thought his lust for credits would have been satisfied for the moment.
I leaned forward on my desk. “Can you please tell me how you can justify such a payment?”
“Well, your honor,” Vulen bowed, “for one thing, our economy has been in a rather sharp downturn. For the government themselves to purchase that number of houses, it would give a baseline for rent to stabilize around. A cap on the leak, if you will. As well as allowing me to use the influx of credits to construct and maintain even more houses and apartments.”
“Really?” I give my ears a skeptical flick. “You will actually use the money to build more?”
“It’s in section four of the proposal.” He stated, “as part of the five-rotation plan.”
That was correct. Which means he actually wrote much of this out himself instead of just tossing it to his own lawyer. Perhaps I was too harsh on his character. “Indeed it is. You must understand, though, that the sum you’re asking for is no small amount.”
“Oh, I’m fully aware, High Magister,” Vulen said, “But if I remember correctly, the Exterminators Office recently underwent some severe budget cuts, did it not?”
Venric seemed equally as enthused about the prospect of a payout, as per stated in Section 5, the settlement to get Vulen’s name off of the lawsuit would be going almost exclusively to him and his client. “I’ve run the numbers, your honor, and the costs should be zero-sum in the matter of as little as three Herds of Paws.”
The lawyer stood from his seat, standing to the side of the table. “It will be an investment, certainly, but if I may speak as a salesman for a moment, the PR potential for this is nothing less than monumental. Dawn Creek, as an industrial district, has little in the way of tourism aside from the A-Grav Arcade. With this, you could kickstart an entire sub-community, complete with the economic prosperity that is sure to follow!”
It was an impressive sales pitch, I had to admit. Of course, I wasn’t about to be distracted by the absurd parts. “Yes, an impressive sales pitch, Venric. However,” I turned to look at Vulen, “I can’t help but question the logic behind your decision on what the refugees will have to pay at the conclusion of the contract.”
Vulen, seemingly prepared for this, simply flicked his ears. “And what of it? Are you referring to the 50% increase over standard rent prices? Because there is an explanation for that.”
That was one of the absurdities to be explained, but I was interested to see how he rephrased that he wants money. “By all means, explain away.”
Vulen cleared his throat before proceeding. “We’ve already discussed that Tarlim’s wrongful termination was an attempt to drag my name through the mud, but that isn’t all that the other two have done. As mentioned, employment of the internal maintenance force was left to Darula, in one of my more questionable decisions. I figured that would be one of the first things to go after I severed the contract, so I already got around to hiring a third party to replace the jobs I knew I’d be losing. Sure enough, once the contract was severed, all of the maintenance workers stopped servicing my building. It was lucky that I had the foresight to plan ahead, but it left me at a substantial financial loss. The price hike is to pay for the more-expensive, but still necessary, external maintenance services once the sum granted by this deal has dried up.”
A good justification. Well thought out, well reasoned, almost seemed to be reasonable.
Too bad for him I saw the flaw. “And if this charge is to cover the new maintenance people, how are they being paid during the contract?”
Vulen couldn’t hide the grimace. It was subtle. A slight fall of his ears, a lip curl, a tail sag, just realizing I had caught him. “Well,” he began to try and justify again, “they are being… I am…” he fell silent under my stare. It was a telling stare. Reminding him that I already had read and would reread every word of the contract. He met my eye with one of his own for a few seconds before he signed acquiescence. “Fine. It’s to increase my profit margin.” He gestured exasperatedly. “This is still a massive risk for me. People could move because of the refugees! Brahk, I guarantee there will be people who will move because of them! “Tainted this, Humans that,” I know you’ve seen the consequences of that firstpaw. Despite the credit influx, I will still have to take loans for the new buildings, and they’ll take time to build! I need proof of future income to look good for what creditors I have left.”
“Really?” I asked, “then is that future profit the reason for the proviso that these refugees would not be able to live elsewhere for the duration of the contract plus a half rotation afterwards?”
He gave a huff before composing himself back to a professional position. “Only for the half rotation. I will be honest, the main reason for the proviso is to hedge against people like him.” He very obviously gestured to Venric.
The lawyer, on the other paw, seemed rather amused by the act. “Really? May I ask, out of curiosity?”
“I am entering into a contract with the Magistratta,” Vulen stated, “I am not about to have lawyers claiming I’m not holding up my end because some Gojid decides to abandon the housing I’m offering because of…because of Tarlim and his human friend.” He massaged his snout for a moment before continuing. “If I am to offer my rooms to refugees and humans, this upfront cost is all but necessary. You can’t expect me to take on such an undertaking without a safety net to fall back on. It’s just bad business. And besides, I’m already paying a portion of that back up front to the upfront payment in the form of my settlement. That has to count for something, right?”
I stare at him, unimpressed by his attempt to use my feelings around Tarlim to his benefit. “Your dealings with him have no relation to dealings with the Magistratta, Vulen. As for your safety net, you are correct. I cannot expect you to take such a risk without one.” I watched as his ears raised in confidence. “But a safety net, this is not.” His ears satisfyingly fall again. “The numbers you have given me would result in likely twice the profit you made as your own share in the last rotation just from the simple fact you would be filling every unit you owned. That is not a ‘safety net’ to fall back on. That is exploitation of disadvantaged peoples for your own gain, and you know it.
The landlord huffed in frustration. “Fine. I can drop the half rotation binding for after the contract is done.” I squint at him. “Don’t look at me like that! I have guaranteed in that contract that every unit could be filled! I will not be accused of breaching a contract because one of the residents decided to leave early, mark my words!”
I heard Venric whistle in amusement. “The possible payout would certainly be tempting.”
Of course he would say that. I suddenly get the feeling Vulen brought Venric here for more than just the settlement.
I shake my head to focus. “That would be acceptable, however,” I swipe my pad so it showed the rent hike, “this is also to be completely dropped. If the refugees decide to continue living in your units, it shall be considered a continuation of living rather than a new contract. Therefore, any rent increase would be done at the legally mandated rate of maximum 5% already set by the Magister of Land and Housing. There will be no negotiation on this account.” I recognize the need for changing rent. At least this way the refugees should be able to afford it after the contract is up. “Of course, you will continue to have control of the rent on the new buildings when those are built. So even without that rent hike, you will still be making a profit into the future.”
Vulen looked to be about to protest, but Vernic quickly pulled him aside and started whispering in his ear. I could hear some soft exclamations from Vulen every now and again until the two finally separated from their convenience. Vulen, with a defeated look in his eyes, addressed me. “That modification is…acceptable. On One Condition.”
I leaned back in my seat and raised my ears in interest. “You’re not really in the position to be drafting terms, but I suppose I’ll humor you. What is your condition?”
“You, and the Magistratta at large, must sign a separate, legally binding contract promising compensation for the construction of the new buildings. That was already part of my proposal, but I want a separate contract for that now, unbound by any of the terms of this current agreement.” He flicked his ears uncomfortably. I could tell that he still wasn’t happy about his profit margins being skimmed down. “If I agree to your amendment, you agree to mine. Fairs fair. Do we have a deal?”
I hold firm with my gaze. “I will have to actually read this amendment to agree. But for now, state your terms.”
“I will want to be funded 50% of total estimated building costs as gauged by a neutral third party, with another half of estimated maintenance costs for the first rotation of operations, also gauged by a neutral third party.”
I quickly thought over his proposal. “Add in a clause that you will have to pay for material overages, and in return we will allow a clause that we will pay for time overages. If that’s acceptable, we will have an agreement.”
Vulen’s face showed hopefulness once again as he bowed respectfully. “That is acceptable. You have a deal!”
I give him a professional bow as I delete and edit the appropriate sections on my copy of the contract. I then sent a quick request to the magister of Land and Housing to draw up the second contract. “Then let us reread our agreement to be sure there are no more disputes.”
Vulen sighed, seemingly annoyed that we were going through the contract once more. But it was for the best. By the end, the terms were found to be either mutually beneficial, or mutually neutral.
“Very good, Vulen,” I state, “the Magistratta approves of your proposal. Venric, if you would please also sign as a witness.”
With our paw signatures all set to the screens, the deal is done. Even though a couple thousand Gojid is only a fraction of the people rescued from the Cradle, that is still a couple thousand people who have a home once more. If other districts, or if Solgalick blesses it, other species see what we have done, perhaps they too shall follow suit.
Venric placed his pad in his lap and aimed an eye towards Vulen. “Now that that is done, there is the matter of your settlement.”
The landlord huffed as they began typing on their pad. I felt a slight amount of pity for him. It was due to the actions of his previous partners that caused him to be in this situation. But the results came for the best.
With a swipe of my paw, I saved the contract and sent off a copy for our Governor to review. The UN would work with her to find the appropriate amount of refugees to send, and we would get a message on when to receive them.
I pray to Solgalick that all goes well.
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(...) juste derrière la grue télescopique tout-terrain #XCMG de 2600tons celle de #ZOOMLION à égalité avec le modèle de son concurrent #SANY est la deuxième plus puissante grue mobile au monde, avec sa capacité nominale de 2400tons elle est à même de soulever une charge constante de 175tons à une hauteur de 175m!. Si sa puissance hydraulique est une référence mondiale du genre et si son abaque des charges ne l'est pas moins la 2400tons du constructeur il faut le souligner a réalisée des percées technologiques significatives en matière de conception de grandes grues mobiles et par des avancées mondiales sans aucune équivalence. Des avancées qui touchent entre autres à la conception de flèches pour les grandes hauteurs et par une forte accentuation de la capacité de levage, au châssis ultra résistant de conception heavy-duty pour un usage intensif en particulier sur les pistes très difficiles et des avancées qui touchent aussi au degré de sécurisation opérationnelle des machines. A ces quelques points technologiques sans comparaison il faut y ajouter dans la récente évolution de cette grue de 2400tons l'intégration d'une plateforme numérique plus poussée et incluant une gestion de type cloud. La grue de l'industriel livrée à grande échelle par un très vif succès fait la démonstration de toutes ses exceptionnelles qualités en toutes conditions de manutention et les levageurs ne cachent pas leur entière satisfaction bien au contraire, cette gigantesque grue mobile pulvérisant ainsi toutes les normes jusqu'ici établies. Une championne technologique (...) (511967)
CHINA-CSINATECH4.02025
vidéo ZOOMLION/CIRTtech
(google translation)
(...) just behind the #XCMG all-terrain telescopic crane of 2600tons, that of #ZOOMLION on a par with the model of its competitor #SANY is the second most powerful mobile crane in the world, with its nominal capacity of 2400tons it is able to lift a constant load of 175tons at a height of 175m!. If its hydraulic power is a world reference of its kind and if its load chart is no less so, the manufacturer's 2400 tons, it must be emphasized that it has made significant technological breakthroughs in the design of large mobile cranes and by world advances without no equivalence. Advances that affect, among other things, the design of booms for great heights and a strong increase in lifting capacity, the ultra-resistant frame of heavy-duty design for intensive use, particularly on very difficult tracks, and advances that also affect the degree of operational security of the machines. To these few technological points without comparison must be added in the recent evolution of this 2400 ton crane the integration of a more advanced digital platform and including cloud-based management. The industrial crane delivered on a large scale by a very great success demonstrates all its exceptional qualities in all handling conditions and the lifters do not hide their complete satisfaction on the contrary, this gigantic mobile crane thus pulverizing all the standards established so far. A technological champion (...)

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https://preview.redd.it/xbwvuf3zkb4b1.jpg?width=1600&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4521e4bbe4ba02d7a2a73c62680fee44843a3267
EJECUTA A SU MARIDO CON UN BALDE DE AGUA HIRVIENDO LLENO DE AZÚCAR - ASÚSTAME SI PUEDES!!!
VER VIDEO COMPLETO: https://youtu.be/frGJV9ngHaw
Una mujer asesina a su marido con un balde de agua hirviendo lleno de azúcar. Este suceso ocurrió en Reino Unido (Cheshire, Inglaterra, 14 de julio de 2020) luego de que una mujer identificada como Corinna Smith (59 años) se enteró por palabras de su propia hija que su padre habría abusado sexualmente de ella y de su hermano durante varios años cuando eran pequeños e incluso por esta razón el hijo de Corinna se habría quitado la vida en 2007. Y como toda madre protectora llego a casa, hirvió agua en un balde que mezclo con poco más de 3 kilos de azúcar para lograr una mezcla como caramelo, viscosa, espesa y pegajosa que puede adherirse con facilidad a la piel y causar mucho más daño y lo vertió sobre los brazos y torso de su marido Michael Baines, de 80 años que se encontraba dormido. Posteriormente, Michael agonizando y gritando salió corriendo de la casa para pedirle ayuda a una vecina mientras la piel se le estaba desprendiendo. Al parecer resultó con quemaduras de 3er grado en más de la tercera parte de su cuerpo y después de 5 semanas falleció debido a la gravedad de las lesiones luego de pasar por varias cirugías. Finalmente, Smith fue sentenciada a cadena perpetua, aunque dentro de 12 años podría solicitar una revisión y obtener una reducción en la condena.

Para que sirven las matemáticas avanzadas en la vida real?.
si, sirven para calcular créditos, viajes, trayectos, vueltos. pero para un simple mortal?.
Es como ir al negocio y decirle a la chica, me da 2x cuadrado de chicle = 4 , o como dice el meme, las matemáticas te servirán para todo-enseguida sale un tipo con una navaja-yo-si Carlitos tiene x manzanas , cuantas peras le quedan!!….