1816 modern kitchen and drinks menu

(Note: this is the second half of the story. Will link the first half shortly)
The two teens both looked toward the front of the room. There was a gray sphere. Hovering in the doorway.
But if you asked Marc, it was an annoying gray sphere. And it hovered in the doorway like an absolute rustnut.
Marc wasn’t sure where on the sphere to level his disdain. The whole dumb surface was the same all over. It was a series of interconnected, translucent hexagons. Stupid yellow lights blinked sporadically across its many faces—for no apparent rhyme or reason—perhaps just to further annoy Marc.
An electronic voice called out from the sphere. “Did I hear muuuuuusic?” he asked. “Before that last plasma burst?”
Marc shot Sid a glare that could kill. But the big blue alien didn’t back down.
“Last impression. Remember?” he told Marc before going toward Tōn-E with a brimming, sharp-toothed smile and arms extended. “Tōn-E! Glad you could make it! Come on in.”
On the inside, Marc cringed. He mostly tried to forget that Tōn-E walked (hovered?) the same Levels as them. Tōn-E represented the most self-destructive habits of the Outpost. The only features of the city indifferent to survival.
But Tōn-E was all too real. He entered the room like a ghost in a nightmare.
“I am also happy to be here,” he said. The faces of his sphere randomly lit up as he spoke. “I otherwise had no plans for tonight. Because the planet is set to explode.”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” Sid joked.
“I approximate it will only take a few more—hold on. What is this??”
Tōn-E spun slowly in the air. The side previously facing Sid rotated toward the ceiling. When it reached the top, a spotlight shot toward the ceiling—right where Sid’s door had slotted in.
The spotlight stretched horizontally across the door until it resembled a straight line. This line swept back and forth across the raised door. It moved as if he was cleaning it.
“I don’t believe it!” Tōn-E said. “What an exquisite painting. A remarkable addition to your growing and ever-expanding portfolio, Sid.”
Tōn-E finished his scan of the painting. His expanding spotlight shut off. And he re-centered himself to face Sid.
“Aww, shanks,” Sid said. Each of his right arms latched onto the bends of the left ones. “You really think so?”
“Of course! There are colors here I’ve only seen named in the logs. You have tastefully incorporated /#FF00FF: a color our ancestors previously referred to as ‘magenta.’”
“Yes! That’s right! I was going for ‘magenta!’ You really think I did it?”
Marc looked down to hide his face. He rolled his eyes. Magenta. He would have loved to tell Sid how much he liked it too. But Marc had spent his years surviving, not studying colors in old, useless historical archives.
Sid and Tōn-E continued their snooty, pretentious discussion.
“I made it mixing legblee blood and just a liiiiiiittle bit of groundwater,” Sid said.
“That was a very clever! Allow me to save your painting to my internal memory.”
“Really??” Sid’s cheeks greened a little.
“Yes, I will review at a later time when I am both unable to view the original but would still like to once again be inspired by your clever and skillful hands.”
“Tōn-E, I—I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
Marc simmered in his anger. Stupid Tōn-E. Always ruining things. Making them about him and his dumb, endless archives.
“I am perhaps only more impressed by your chosen ensemble! Do my eyes perceive veritable Lenorkian armor?”
The talkative orb whooshed toward Sid. It began revolving around him like an annoyingly-attached moon. As his exo-orb hummed excitedly, Tōn-E rattled off his useless knowledge of antiquated armor.
“Snorp-resistant spiked shoulder caps?!” He spun around Sid’s midsection. “Triple-layered chest plates?!” He dropped closer to the floor. “Anti-gravity shin guards made from the rare lenorkium alloy?!”
Tōn-E giggled as he orbited Sid. His laugh disturbed Marc. It sounded like a space rat being strangled in the bowels of an undersea air vent.
Sid could hardly keep up with Tōn-E’s flying. But he looked happy with the attention. “Yeah! I’m told this suit was built for the Frost Ring wars,” he said. “It never got used.”
Marc continued to not engage. He slunk deeper into his shawl, folded his arms, and sighed.
“I don’t believe it!” Tōn-E said.
He backed off from Sid, flying back toward the doorway. He turned on his spotlight once again. It now stretched over Sid’s body. “Saving! Saving!”
Sid wasted no time posing for the occasion. He flexed all four arms and gritted his snaggling teeth. His irises turned a deep red and his two small horns protruded from his forehead. Tōn-E was overjoyed. “I did not think I would ever have the chance to record your agitated state,” he said.
I’ll show you an agitated state, Marc thought to himself.
“I’ve got a relic you’re going to love,” Tōn-E said. His tiny sphere filled the cave with noise. But it wasn’t Tōn-E’s usual metallic voice. The sound came from another species entirely.
“GwwwwwwuuuhhhAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!”
His orb played an intense, ear-shuddering roar. The recording may have been slightly fuzzy, but Marc knew the source. It was unmistakably Lenorkian.
And like the gears in a drill, something appeared to “click” inside Sid. His eyes widened. His armored chest expanded. And he joined in. But Sid’s roar was… authentic.
“HRRRRRRRRRGAAAAAAAAHHHHH” he blasted out of mouth. Marc’s entire rib cage vibrated uncomfortably.
It spooked Marc. Igniting some primal desire to escape a dangerous predator. That was a feeling he never felt around Sid. He didn’t like it.
Sid himself even looked embarrassed for a second. Something he’d kept suppressed had slipped out. But Tōn-E turned up the volume on his recording. And with a cautious smile of someone nervously breaking a rule, Sid matched it. And then some. The two bellowed together. It was enough to make Marc queasy, although it was unclear whether it was due to the vibrations or Sid bonding so much with Tōn-E.
The roaring continued. Their talking continued. Tōn-E went on about Sid’s armor some more and his people’s valor and the hardship his ancestors must have faced.
“Usually I keep this stuff stashed away,” Sid said to Tōn-E in his soft normal voice. His horns had retracted, and his eyes had returned to normal. “These are shameful pieces of our history. Truly. And with a people I never really fit in with. But tonight, it just felt right to wear it, you know?”
“I understand completely,” Tōn-E said. “It is in these end times that we gravitate toward those traditions that were so much of what made us feel alive in the first place.”
The statement made Marc want to hurl. He didn’t want to entertain such stupid notions. But the gremlin rotated to him next.
“Hello Marc! Did you find any good junk today? Any new additions to your scrap pile?”
Marc seethed. “I didn't scavenge today, Tōn-E. There wouldn't be any use. It's the end of the universe.”
“That surprises me. Humans love their junk and doodads.”
“Yeah well, we don’t have to cling to the past, do we? Not like that ever saved anyone.” He hugged his wrapped arms even tighter, tilting his body away from Sid and Tōn-E. His cold shoulder ended the conversation.
Sid picked it back up. “So Tōn-E, do you, uh… drink?”
As it turned out, he did. Tōn-E accepted a cup of fludge. He held it with a robotic arm—one that had suddenly extended from his exo-orb. Tōn-E’s orb whirred as the center of his “face” sprouted a grotesque, needle-like proboscis. It poked outward like a long nose.
This straw extended into the cup he held. Tōn-E sipped the fludge like an insect sipping nectar (whatever those two things were; the Archives were spotty).
Sid waited with anticipation. Then Tōn-E’s sphere shuddered. The fludge must have reached the insufferable little creature on the inside. “Scrumptious!” he said.
Marc sighed quietly to himself. For some reason, he thought the night would have made a turn for the better if Tōn-E had hated it.
“Two for two!” Sid pumped three victorious fists into the air. He grinned as Tōn-E’s straw dipped into the cup once more. The straw made a little slurping sound.
“My taste buds are tingling!” Tōn-E said.
But the big cup was too much for him to finish. He returned the mostly-full drink to Sid. And his robotic straw receded to his exo-orb. Sid of course finished the cup, slurping up the remaining pool of fludge.
“So…” Sid said. He wiped his mouth. “Should I put some tunes back on?” He pointed over his shoulder to the idle vent. Then he looked across his two guests for an answer.
Marc shrugged. He didn’t care about anything anymore. Next to Marc, Tōn-E bobbed excitedly.
“Oh, yes!” he said. “One reads about concepts such as scales and measures, but it is entirely different to actually experience them with one’s own body!”
What body? Marc thought to himself. And what were the other things Tōn-E had mentioned? Something about… measuring… dragons?
He studied the cave floor while Sid skipped to the vent.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Sid said. “Get those Level 7 legs ready!” He tugged at the creaking cover once more.
It came off easier this time. With a pop! the storm above returned to the cave. Its natural melody filled the room.
“Woooooooo!” Sid raised his hands again and walked back toward the other two.
Tōn-E mimicked him with two twig arms.
But the music didn’t have the same magic as before. The beats were stale. And Marc found himself unable to ignore the sting of the sand pelting his face. He lifted his shawl over his mouth. His voice was barely audible.
“I’m sitting this song out,” he said.
The other two didn't seem to hear him. They were facing each other, waving their arms sporadically against the air current.
Marc didn’t care. He grabbed his unfinished drink from the kitchen. Then he searched for a place to sit.
He found a couch, just in front of the dancing aliens. As he took his seat, his bottom started to sink into the sofa. The tarp covering the couch crinkled.
He tried guessing the material underneath it. Clay, maybe? He pondered the question while watching Sid and Tōn-E figure out dancing without him.
“This is how Marc was doing it before!” Sid said to Tōn-E. His four arms fanned across the breeze.
But he got everything wrong. His arms whipped around the wind, not with it. And he was thinking too much about his next move, as evidenced by his scrunched brows. But the greatest offense of all was his midsection: his hips and legs stayed in place—as if someone had threatened them.
A part of Marc wanted to get up and show him how it was done. But another part wanted to see Sid fail. Realize the effort was futile. Give up on bonding with Tōn-E. And kick the Sphere of Useless Facts out of his house.
“Am I doing it right, Marc?” Sid asked while each of his arms flew in a different direction.
“You look great!” Marc replied. He took a long sip of fludge.
Tōn-E, on the other hand, did his best to replicate Sid. He waved his skinny arms erratically. It almost made Marc laugh; Tōn-E looked like he’d been set on fire.
But in all, the whole thing was awful. A bad impression giving birth to an even worse impression.
And they didn’t seem to be enjoying it much either. Despite Marc’s glowing endorsement, Sid and Tōn-E danced themselves to the brink.
Sid kept losing his balance. He tried to keep up with the music but flung himself too hard in any one direction. And every time he made a misstep, he’d let loose an acidic snarl. Tōn-E grew frustrated as well. Every few seconds, he simply froze. His exterior lights would blink red in error. As Marc had hoped, the two “painting pals” quickly ran out of steam.
The dancing halted altogether. A tired Sid returned to the vent and hoisted the grate back onto the vent’s mouth. The music stopped.
“I’ll just turn it down for a minute,” he said. He adjusted a dial on the grate. The metal slits creaked open. And a muted sandstorm flowed through them.
The music reflected the overall energy in the room: depleted. Sid secured himself two more cups of fludge before joining Marc on the tarp couch.
Tōn-E followed his lead. The little troll took a seat too, which meant hovering over the last open spot on the other side of Marc.
The boys took a minute to relax on the couch. They sat quietly while the plasma storm above the Outpost boomed and cracked.
Well, Sid and Tōn-E relaxed. They chugged down another couple cups of fludge and floated quietly over the couch (respectively). Meanwhile, Marc continued to be annoyed. He considered stepping outside and climbing to Level 1. Offer himself to the plasma storm a few hours early. The non-stop hum of Tōn-E’s exo-orb goaded him further.
Brrrrrrrrr!
Did it really have to make that noise?
Marc didn’t think the afternoon could get any worse. And then it did. Because Tōn-E’s insufferable humming suddenly quieted. And that only could have meant…
“Oh!” Tōn-E exclaimed, “I know what we can talk about!”
Marc braced for impact. His nails dug into his knees.
Don’t you dare, he thought.
“I read the most interesting fact about cats today!” Tōn-E started.
Not again, Marc thought. Absolutely NOT again. His fists trembled with rage.
“Did you know cats were the central deity across ten different ancient civilizations? The trend started with humans, of course, but the religion quickly spread across the galaxy as interplanetary travel became more widely available.”
“I actually didn’t know that,” Sid said, entertaining Tōn-E’s ridiculous theory. “Where did you find that?”
“The Archives! They have somewhat documented this phenomenon. You see, it was a common practice to capture footage of cats, even in their sleeping state. They were so important to these cultures that even the most mundane moment yielded significant reason to capture and worship them. If you want to see, I can—”
Marc had had enough. He slammed his cup down on the floor and flew off the couch.
“—SHUT UP. SHUT UP ABOUT CATS!” he shouted. He swung back around to face the other two. “CATS AREN’T REAL TŌN-E! AND THEY WERE NEVER REAL!”
“That’s enough, Marc!” Sid clenched his teeth.“Don’t start this.”
Marc returned fire, “I didn’t start anything; that was YOU. Going behind my back! Inviting more of these… fairy tales!”
His emotions overwhelmed him. He didn’t know whether to yell more or start crying. He did both.
“It’s the end of the universe!” he said as tears streamed down his face. “We can’t keep clinging to the things that brought us to this point in the first place! All these stupid traditions are the reason no one’s even here with us now! IT KILLED THEM ALL! And anyone stupid enough to keep believing in them is—"
“—I said THAT’S ENOUGH!” Sid growled. Marc didn't care.
“NO!” he said. Then he looked back at Tōn-E. “NONE of what you’re seeing in the Archives is real! The data is corrupt! It’s ALL CORRUPT! And CATS are just another dumb fairy tale to keep people like you going, while…”
He ran out of steam. He realized there was no more “going.” In fact, there was no time remaining in the universe for anything. But that didn’t diminish his animosity and anger toward the world. He glared down at the gray sphere. His chest heaved.
Meanwhile, Sid kept a cooler, bluer head. He too looked to Tōn-E, but with compassion in his eyes.
Tōn-E didn’t immediately respond to either. The only sound in the room came from his exo-orb. Well, the exo-orb plus the ladle on the counter, which suddenly blooped into the big pot.
All eyes were on the atypically quiet alien, whose hexagonal faces began to light up.
“I suppose,” his voice trailed, “that cats may not have been real after all. You said it yourself: records are foggy. They’re all from thousands of years ago...” He sighed. Tōn-E’s lights transitioned to a new blinking pattern. “And I also suppose… that I should have been more mature about interpreting error-prone information in the Archives…”
“It's okay, man,” Sid said. “I like that you dream big.” He reached across the couch to place a comforting hand on Tōn-E. But Tōn-E floated out of reach.
“I understand my presence here is probably upsetting,” he said. “You two have a special bond. I should not have interfered with it in its last moments. I will go.”
“No, Tōn-E,” Sid said. Each pair of his hands met in front of his chest “Please stay. You have every right to be here too.”
“I should go,” Tōn-E said. “I will spend the rest of the evening focused on real things. And because I will no longer be here, I suppose it will be the perfect opportunity to review Sid’s art so I can feel inspired for the end times.”
He slipped between Sid and Marc toward the doorway.
“No, don’t!” Sid called after him. “We should do this together.”
But Tōn-E had already vanished outside.
The Lenorkian, hand extended, waited for Tōn-E to come back. But the floating sphere did not reappear in the doorway.
And that was when a low trill emanated from the couch. It was coming from Sid’s his chest. He looked up at Marc, glaring. He bared his pointed teeth. His horns reappeared. And his eyes flushed with scarlet pigment.
Yuh-oh, Marc thought. About half his prior anger evaporated. Fear of a fight took hold.
Marc didn’t exactly dislike his chances. Lenorkians may have been stronger, but Sid wasn't a fighter. Marc was.
But Sid stuck to his morals.
“GET OUT!” Sid shouted.
Marc reflexively jumped out of reach. The short hop sort of ruined his show of anger. But he was still boiling mad. After all, fifty percent of him hadn't abandoned the cat grudge.
“Fine!” he shouted back. “Have fun exploding alone.” He whipped away to the exit.
The party was finished now. He almost stopped and went back for his fludge. But he didn’t want it anymore either. He just wanted a nice end of the universe with his friend. And now the end of the universe was ruined.
At least the apocalypse outside was behaving predictably. Marc stepped into the adjacent cave corridor. He surveyed the damage outside, looking through the long, horizontal gap in the cave wall. As the experts had predicted, the plasma storm took its toll.
The canyon glowed eerily bright, despite it being evening time. The wind howled as it raced through the canyon. And the cliffs around the gorge flashed white and pink as the storm charged with electricity, preparing to make its final jump.
Lightning cracked toward the ground. Some of the bolts hit the opposing cliff, sending rubble deep into the gorge. A gentle tremor rumbled in the ground beneath him.
The plasma storm overhead only creeped further around the planet. As the canyon brightened, shockwaves coursed through the entire city. They threw Marc off his feet again. He hit the ground.
Behind him, thunderous clacking erupted. The sound of falling rocks filled the corridor. He flipped over to see what explosion had thrown him.
It was bad. He stopped breathing. Because he could no longer see Sid’s home. All he saw was a pile of rubble.

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Before I start I want to say I'm sorry for any mistakes but I just want to get this of my soul to somebody and english isn't my first language. So, I don't even know if this is worth writing about but I just feel so bad and helpless. My grandma is 86 and ever since she moved in with us 5 years ago (bc my uncle whom she was staying with died BC OF HER but that's another story I might tell in the final part of this post after telling you all how she behaves it will make sense) she has been making our lives miserable (mostly me and my mother ironically because we are the ones mostly taking care of her, I give her food and meds and my mom can't). I am gonna start with the most awful and disgusting part. Because she is so old she wears adult diapers and that should help if she ACCIDENTALLY shts herself and yes, it does help in her case but what's very annoying about her is that: 1)she shits herself intentionnaly and doesn't even try to hold it in if one of us is in the bathroom; 2)she shits herself intentionally just so that my mom will have to clean her (she does this especially when she sees my mom is very tired or busy and my mother is the one cleaning her because she doesn't have a job and this grandma I am writing about is from my mother's side); 3)when mom isn't home she asks me to clean her (which I will never do and I am shocked she even askes me to like I am almost 18 but I don't want to and I know it will sound bad but I don't love her more like I can't love her because she never took care of me when I was a baby and because of her my mother had to be away from me so much when I was little and my dad was working so I was alone a lot of the time and one time my mother told me that the neighbours told her I threw some little pieces of eraser on my neighbour's window sill (that thing at the bottom of the window google told me the word) and I still think to this day that could've died because I opened the window by myself at 4 years old) oh I got so carried away I'm sorry I just write as things come to me sorry if it's annoying but as I said I want to tell this to somebody as fast as possible; 4) she shts herself and doesn't tell my mother or anyone and just sits there in her bed and if none of us notices it she just sits there for hours, but most of the timw we do notice because it smells so bad and one time she sat so long she got all her bedding dirty and her clothes and it was smelling so bad; 5)when nobody is home she goes to the bathroom and gets her slipers, the floor leading to the bathroom, the floor in the bathroom, the toilet, the toilet paper, herself and her clothes very dirty; I think that's all with the sh*ting. So me and my family do EVEYRHING for her because she had some heart problems but she is better now but still can't walk by herself and she doesn't want a cane and my mother walks her eveywhere. God I don't even know how to say the next things because it doesn't really seem like a big deal but for us it kind of is. So she does all sorts of straight up anoying things like wjen she first came to our house she wanted to sleep in a big bed my parents were sleeping in and make me and my mom sleep togheter and that happened for a few days but we could not sleep well so we moved her to HER OWN ROOM WHICH I WISH SO MUCH I HAD (I never had that room because we would also need to heat that space so we were saving money by not having anyone sleep in that room and of course as a teenager I want my own room and privacy so I just put up with it). For some reason she HAS TO sleep with some sort of light on so fine but when she goes to the bathroom she does not turn it off or when it isn't even night she turns it on even though she doesn't do anything like reading etc. or when she eats with the light on and goes to the bathroom she also doesn't turn it off or when she finishes eating she agreed to tell my mom but more recently she doesn't and just sits there with the light on (maybe this isn't so annoying but we most of the time love paycheck to paycheck so it matters that we try to save up everywhere we can). When we tell her she doesn't even look at us or if she looks she just shrughs or doesn't say anything like it's impossible to talk with that woman. Or the one thing I hate to most: she goes to the bathroom when we are there like she opens the door even thought we are there (and most of the time intentionally). There are days when I go to the bathroom and EVERY SINGLE TIME she comes and I have developed a reflex or like a trauma when I hear her slippers on the floor (she kinda slides them bc she holds on furniture when going to the bathroom) to stop eveything I am doing and hold on the door do that she doesn't enter and it's just so annoying that I can't even go to the bathroom without her coming. And the thing that made me want to write this after somehow coping with her for 5 years. Today I wanted to take a bath and she wanted to go right before the bath was ready (and yes she also does this a lot like when she hears one of us saying we want to go to the bathroom she rushes there) so I let her and after 5 minutes she had the audacity to OPEN THE DOOR WHEN I WAS FING NAKED and out of anger I screamed at her to leave and at least she did but this isn't the first time this happened to not only me and the most sad and annoying thing is that she does it intentionnaly just so she can kill us physically. That's how she killed my uncle whom she was living with before us. It was just the two of them living together (bc my grandpa died before that possibly also by her nagging or whatever she's doing I don't even know what to call it) and just like she does with us now, (only it was worse for my poor uncle bc he was alone with her) she kept making him do all the work around the house taking care of the cows (I honestly think she loved those cows more than her children because she sent her first two kids to college but she didn't care about my mom and the uncle I am talking about now because she didn't even want them to get a job or get married and kept teliing them to stay with her and take care of those damn cows everyday and sadlt she succeded with my uncle but my mom left) she kept nagging him about all the little things like buying her soda even though the city was 10km away from them and she kept worring him about the work (like their terrains and stuff like that) and she didn't help him she only watched him. When guests were coming over to their place she didn't care to make it a little clean she was dirty (she didn't clean herself like my mom was she never did that and their house was full pf bed bugs but sadly my uncle didn't have what to do because he was working all day on those terrains and that's also why I hated going over there because all my body would be full of stings and I couldn't wear t-shirts or dresses and I also hated going there and helping with the terrain (I started helping like when I was 10 every summer until she came to live with us) yes she did give me money but no more than 5 dollars)). When other neighbours were coming to help with the work she would pour them drinks and chat while me, my family and my uncle were working. I hated going there so much that I would pray to rain so that I wouldn't have to go. And my uncle was so sad he didn't have a proper job, nor a girlfriend and this grandma of mine kept annoying him and never helping him he started drinking and you know how this ends.... Another thing that frustrates us is her STARING. When she fistg mobed in with us she stayed on a chair in the kitchen with us and would watch TV sometimes but she would only stare (and when I say stare think STARE like she would want us do die like she is above us all) and would tell us "you didn't do that" yada yada so we moved her into her room all the time but she would still stare at us bc the door was opened and in the summer we close it but in the winter we can't otherwise it would be to cold for her. I can't even bring my friends over because of her, for example one time I was hanging out with my friends and she kept STARING AT US and I went up and told her nicely to stop and she did but after some time she just started again. I felt so bad towards my friends and they also said it was very creepy I wanted to cry so bad. So, she doesn't do anything she doesn't clean she doesn't make us any food she doesn't care about us only about her (not even that as she doesn't keep herself clean) we do it alk for her we take her on all the road trips we give her food cook her food she is washed she doesn't live alone she doesn't clean she just stays in bed all day (or stared out the window like a creep). Other women her age would be so grateful to have all that she has but her noo it's like she hates us the more we help her and I just don't undersant why and how can she hate the people that are caring for her. She was evil to my uncle and she is evil to my mom and they were/are the ones caring for her, but when she talks to her other children(those two uncles from before) she makes her voice high and cute and is nice and asks how they have been (but with us she speaks with hatred). I hate it so much, my friends tell me about how their grandmas spent time with then when they were little and they made nice food for them and they cleaned their house for them and I just wish I has something like that but if I can't have all that I just wish for a grandma that doesn't want to kill me and my mother physically and that just doesn't keep making problems for us. Please please if anyone even got to this part (because there would be so many more incidents buy I am sick of writing about her and spending so much time thinking about her) please tell me what should we do how should we approach her we treid telling her that other woman her age would not know how to be more grateful for all that she has but she just ignores us we treid telling my two other uncles(the ones I mentioned before) but they said we were over reacting (that's what they used to say to that uncle that died when he told them that, and I quote "she is killing me physically"). I probably sound patethic writing all this but I just want to tell it all to someone who might care, I hate hiw she makes us miserable you might not think it's that bad but it is it's so bad that eveyday when I wake up I pray that she is dead and I also pray to God to get rid of her and I know it's very bad to oray for that but I am so scared because what if she continues living when I go to college and the same thing that happened to my uncle happens to my mom, I could never forgive myself for not trying to do something. As for my dad, he doesn't care because he never takes care of her and he and mom get a lot into arguements because of her. Like I said I am afraid to leave my mom just with the two of them I don't even want to think about it, that's why we need to change something in how we act towards her but I just don't know what so please help me, tell me what should we do.

Hello all . I would like to apologize in advance for my English because it is not my native language. So excuse me if you find some spelling errors I didn't think of posting here before because I didn't have any opportunity or topic. But this time I am confused. And I can't find any solution. I am M24 years old and I live with my parents. I have an older sister F27 married to a man M29 since 3 years . He have a very good relationship with us and even my parents love him very much and consider him as our brother . They live about 4 hours away from our city because of the husband’s work.The husband is currently out of the country on a business trip, and two weeks ago I was making some trips to market the products manufactured by the company I work for.I found myself close to the city where my sister lives I called her to ask about her news, I did not want to let her know that I was close because I wanted to make a surprise visit to her, in the call she said that she is not working today and that she is doing some housework, I went and bought some wine and cake and went to her house I knocked on the door and when it opened I did not expect that reception, she seemed tense and afraid, she told me why did you not tell me that you were coming,I told her that I wanted to surprise you, she let me entre the house She was wearing a bathing suitshe was asking a lot of questions such as how did you come and where are u staying and will you leave Today, like something was waiting for her.In the kitchen, I saw two glasses of wine, and it looked like someone was there I didn't want to stay long. I gave her the cake and the wine and told her I was leaving and in a hurry so as not to put her in a bad position.I went out of the house and did not turn around behind me, I was returning home quickly, but my thinking were all the time about what happened, I did not want to keep doubting her,so I ran back and sat in the car watching the house, she called me after two hours asking if I had reached the house, so I told her that I was going to another city An hour later, she went out with a man and got into his car. I followed them and they entered a nightclub. I entered after them. After they had some drinks, they started exchanging kisses. And he started touching her body in a disgusting way, and they were heading to the private room. I went out and went back to my house. i felt regret for the whole idea to go visiting her I spent a week thinking about how I would act. I didn’t want to tell my parents because I didn’t know how they would react,especially my sister’s husband is very close to their heart, and if I didn’t tell him He might find out later and the end would be very bad , i couldn't open this with my sister because she will call me a liar and our relationship will broke

[Narration by Home Studio Horror]
*
I spend all of my daylight hours scared and alone in this musty old cellar.
It’s woeful, and I bet it smelled this bad even before everything around here turned to crap. Great. My second sentence and I’ve already resorted to swearing. When I decided I’d start this diary (five minutes ago when I got a tiny sliver of signal) I thought it would be my poetic and deeply-moving goodbye to the world. Maybe I’d write about love and loss, or maybe the splendour of nature. Then, when all is done and dusted, I’d have left something to be remembered by. As well as my corpse, of course.
This was a bad idea.
*
Okay, I’m an idiot. There’s nothing else I can do down here. I’ve rooted through every cardboard box a hundred times, organised and reorganised my supplies, I’ve even built a fort. So, I’m back. Hello. Again. God, this diary is going badly.
But there’s just enough light coming through the boards I nailed over the cellar’s tiny window to type by. So I may as well type. Stops me staring up at the window just waiting for a shadow to pass by.
Maybe I'll just write and not hit Submit. Right, where to start? Well, my name is – actually, I think I’m going to refer to myself as ‘X’. That sounds mysterious. If you’re reading this and want to know my real name, I still carry my purse. My railcard is in there and, if you really want to know who I am, go find me and fish it out. I won’t bite...
So, my name is X. I live in a little English village in the middle of nowhere. Before all this happened, I had a mum, a dad, a sister and there was a boy I liked, his name was Jonah.
*
I couldn’t think of anything else to write so I waited until I came back from my rounds. That’s the stupid name I have for when I go outside at night scrounging for stuff. Drinks are the hardest. I only trust bottles or cans, or did, and I was running out of places to search for them. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.
My leg is doing alright actually; didn’t hold me up at all. I saw Jonah too. He’s looked better, I have to say. It’s strange because this is only the second time I’ve seen him since we came here. Maybe his ears were burning.
Anyway, I found some tinned pineapple in a creepy old caravan I hadn’t searched yet. Had to bust the door open with Old Trusty – which I thought might attract some unwanted attention – but it was fine. I’m actually eating the pineapple right now, tastes good. I also found a radio in there. I already have three down here, but none of them work. Not that the caravan radio works either, all you get is static. It’s just nice to collect something. You know, to have a hobby.
*
I can tell the sun is rising. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but I woke up after a bad dream. I know some people can remember their dreams, but I never do. I wake up and grasp at them, but I never manage a hold before they fade away. It’s like trying to pinch the corner of a wisp of smoke; the harder you try, the quicker it fades to nothing. I’m just left with a sensation, a kind of imprint which sums up the most intense part of the dream.
And a cold sweat. That’s new.
*
I’ve been through the box of photo albums I found at the back of the cellar again. I’ve looked through them a few times now, but I always notice something new.
There’s a photo of this little girl playing with a pretend guitar. I can tell it’s pretend because it doesn’t have strings, only brightly-coloured plastic dials. Kind of like My First Guitar Hero or something. The girl has dark hair and she looks a tiny bit like my sister did a million years ago. I don’t have a picture of my sister. I suppose I could go and get one from my old house, but it’s right in the middle of the village. I’m lucky I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I went back. So, what I’ve done is put this girl’s photo in my back pocket as a substitute.
I guess I should probably write something about my real sister now. But I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.
*
Daylight is starting to fade and I’m getting ready to go out on my rounds. I always take my satchel with me, packed with useful objects. I have Old Trusty (a crowbar) which sticks out of the top for easy access, a small toolbox, a pair of heavy-duty gloves (there’s a good story about how I got those, I might write that one down later) and a hammer. I carry a penknife I found down here in my pocket, my purse and phone, and a torch in my hand.
I don’t like to use the torch because its battery is running out and there’s always the chance it might attract them. I probably shouldn’t have used it last night when I got back. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this writing malarkey? I need to be careful with luxuries.
*
Okay, that could have gone better.
Picture the scene: I’m using Old Trusty to try and lever a kitchen window open, when one of them just walks right through the garden hedge. Seriously, straight through it. It’s not the mightiest of hedges but, still, it just appeared like it was walking through one of those Japanese paper walls. My satchel was on the ground, but I legged it anyway. I’m not stupid. I know I can go back for it tomorrow. I felt strangely naked without it on the way back here though.
Like I said before, I need to be careful with the torch so I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.
*
I slept pretty well last night; no nightmares or cold sweats. Maybe a midnight chase was just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs.
I actually woke up wondering about you. If you’re reading this, who are you? If you’re like me, living through this village nightmare, how have you managed to go this long without being killed or whatever? Maybe you’re Army or some such. Maybe you’re just some kid who’s played so many videogames that surviving all of this was already second nature to you. Or maybe you’re like me; living on borrowed time and searching for a good place to die. Maybe Future Me was brave enough to tap Submit on my diary and you're currently reading this on your phone or computer.
Here’s an idea. Maybe you can carry on this diary from wherever I left it at. God, I really hope this isn’t my last entry, although I suppose any entry might be. If you do carry the diary forwards, and I'm a corpse, maybe it will become cursed. Spooky.
*
I’ve been preparing for my next excursion.
If I know I’m going somewhere I’ll likely run into an ugly, I like to take extra precautions. And I want my satchel back. It was a present from my dad, and I know it cost him a lot of money.
So, I’m taking a pair of shears from the shelf of old tools down here. That way, if I lose Old Trusty, I’ll have a backup weapon.
If you are local, I wonder how you like to kill them? Pretty morbid question I know, but everyone around here seems to have their preferred method. The last villager I saw alive carried a pair of mini cricket bats and seemed to have bludgeoning down to an art form. He never saw me though, I was watching from a grove of trees as he killed his way along the main road near the village.
That was before I decided to stay inside during the daylight hours. We can at least see a little bit at night; ambient light and everything. They can’t though. I’ve seen them, they bump into things. It’s pretty funny to be honest. If they hear a noise, they walk in the direction of the sound, never trying to avoid any object in their path. They either bash said object out of the way, or, like that hedge, blunder right through it. Obviously bigger things stop them dead (ha!) though. If that happens, they sort of shuffle backwards and then try again a few times. Eventually – and I’ve seen this too – they just give up and stand there, waiting for something else to attract their attention.
That’s not how it works in the daytime though.
*
I think it’s about an hour before the sun sets so it’s nearly time to head out. I’m going to change my bandage. One minute.
Okay, it didn’t look that bad really. The original scratch wasn’t too deep and now the wound seems to be doing that scabbing thing I remember from normal injuries. It just doesn’t smell very good. A bit like when you walk past a bin that needs emptying.
Anyway, I’ve applied more antiseptic and redressed it. Time to go.
*
That was fun. I’m glad I had those shears with me.
I got my satchel back you’ll be happy to know. And I got inside that house I’d been trying to break into as well. More through necessity than choice in the end, but I’m pleased I did. I found more batteries! That means I can justify writing at night a bit more. In fact, the people who used to live there (I think the husband owned the local garage) were pretty well kitted out. There were a lot of tins in their cupboards, and they’d even left a shotgun. It wasn’t loaded though.
Not that I need a shotgun. I didn’t tell you this before, but I have my grandpa’s old service revolver. He always told me and my sister that it was decommissioned, but my dad apparently knew otherwise. I keep it tucked into the back of my jeans at all times. It had three bullets, one of them is gone, so only two left.
I’ll only be needing the one of course.
*
Morning. I’m feeling pretty low today. I think concentrating on getting my satchel back took my mind off things, but now I feel pretty deflated.
Surely that’s understandable? The village I knew and loved has been replaced with this sodding hell. I miss my family, my friends, TV and hot dinners and Instagram. Before all of this I was a pretty positive person. Sure, I had a bit of trouble getting up in the morning, but, once I was up, that was it. I’d meet the day’s challenges head on, try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Not today though.
Maybe if I write about Jonah I’ll cheer up. Not Jonah as he is now of course, Jonah when he was all smooth-skinned, curly-haired and bright-eyed. Now he’s like the anti-Jonah or something. His face looks like it lost a fight with an angry lobster. No, wait, I’m supposed to be writing about Jonah version one here.
He’s one of those people that I can’t remember meeting. My family has always lived around here and so there are lots of people who have just always been, if you get me. I always thought we would drunkenly get it together at a party – that’s what I’d usually do if there was a boy I liked. Classy.
*
I’ve perked up a bit. Out of sheer frustration I went upstairs (naughty, I know) and looked out of a window. Sure, I saw an ugly, wandering aimlessly as they always do, but I saw that the trees are starting to turn too. That means it’s nearly autumn, and I love autumn!
My sister and I always used to go out and kick leaves at each other in the autumn. I don’t know if it was because of her low centre of gravity, but my sister was amazing at it. She could somehow whip up a blazing whirlwind of golden-yellow and fire-red, surrounding us both in a leaf storm that I couldn’t help but flail my arms madly at. Then we’d both fall backwards into the leaves laughing, me wondering how on earth what had happened was possible. She was that good.
God, I let her down in the end.
*
I think I’ll stay away from the house with the shotgun tonight. It usually takes a day or two for a group of uglies to disperse once they’re all riled up. I could use the rest of that tinned food I suppose, but I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for now.
Instead, I think I’ll swing by another farmhouse I was scoping out before I decided to turn nocturnal. I never met the people who used to live there, but I remember Mum telling me they liked their privacy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me visiting now though.
Also, there’s a woodland between here and there and I might be able to find some leaves to kick about a bit. I think that would make me feel close to my sister again.
I’ll check back in later.
*
I’m still alive, but only just.
I made it through the woods just fine (only the odd leaf on the forest floor at the moment though, sadly), the trouble started at the farmhouse. I couldn’t get in – the doors and windows were barricaded – so I tried one of the outbuildings. Locked. It had a cat flap though.
My first instinct was to leave it, but then I wondered if there might be something useful inside. Lord knows what thinking about it now. I lifted the cat flap with one hand and shone the torch beam through with my other. That’s when an ugly dived at my pinkies. Luckily, it misjudged its leap and got a mouthful of plastic cat flap instead. As for me, I fell backwards onto my bum.
Next, the damn thing started bashing on the door from the inside. I don’t think it could ever have got out, but the noise attracted more uglies from out of nowhere. I only just managed to outmanoeuvre them and hightail it back into the woods.
That’s not the worst of it though. On the way back my leg started to hurt. A lot.
*
I woke up this morning and I’m walking with a limp. It’s funny, Dad had a limp when he and Mum died. He was nailing planks of wood across our windows and doors because there was no signal (as per bloody usual) and we thought that what was happening here was probably happening everywhere. It's only recently that I realised this was an isolated, local outbreak. Anyway, Dad dropped the hammer onto his toe, he always was useless at DIY. I think it was only a couple of hours after that when he and Mum were taken.
It was like a wave of death. No, not like, that’s exactly what it was. A hoard of uglies swept through the village, probably originating from the secret research facility in the woods we're not supposed to know about. My sister and I wouldn’t have had a prayer if Mum and Dad hadn’t charged down the first few that got into our house. They gave us just enough time to escape, to run away and leave them to die. My sister was screaming all the way and I had to drag her like she was four again.
She wouldn’t speak to me for a few days after that. I didn’t blame her, I hated myself too. But I would have hated myself even more if I hadn’t done what I did next. On my own, I snuck back into our house with the crowbar I found here. Then I dispatched my parents. I can’t bring myself to type it any other way. It wasn’t like in the movies, I didn’t pound their skulls into mush whilst sobbing, ‘Why?’ over and over again. I just found them, or what was left of them, forced the crowbar through each of their eye sockets, and came straight back here.
Then came the crying.
*
I haven’t told you about the heavy-duty gloves yet, have I?
After I got back from our old house, my sister started speaking to me again. A shared, day-long cry will do that for sisters. Once we felt up to it, we decided to explore the parts of the farmhouse we hadn’t searched yet. All the bedrooms were empty, only a few belongings flung about the place (I suspect the previous tenants left in a hurry). The problem came when we investigated the attic. Once we’d opened the ceiling panel in the upstairs hallway, once we’d pulled the compact staircase down, I went up. My sister stood at the top of the hatchway shining the torch beam over my shoulder. And that’s when it touched me. Terrified, I fell to my left, screaming as the thing came crashing down on top of me. I was yelling things like, ‘Shoot it!’ and, ‘Run!’ but my sister was just laughing her head off. I soon realised that my attacker was in fact a shop-window mannequin.
I think the people who previously lived here must have been arty (or into some seriously freaky stuff) because the mannequin was dressed in scarves, bandannas, ties, watches – loads of things. The rest of the attic was pretty empty but at least we got the mannequin’s gloves.
*
I’m not feeling good at the moment. I’ve got a sore throat and I’ve coughed up blood a couple of times. My leg pain is getting worse too.
I don’t think I’ll go out tonight. I have enough tins left and one of them is a Full English In A Can. Sounds pretty disgusting, but intriguing at the same time. I’ve been saving it for near the end. A sort of consolation prize.
*
There are two mattresses down here. Obviously one is mine, and the other one was my sister’s. After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I don’t have a photo of her, only Guitar Girl’s. Her bed is the only thing of hers I have left. And she didn’t even sleep in it that many times.
*
The tinned Full English was vile! You’ve got to laugh though, what else can you do?
*
I’m crying as I write this. Tears of sorrow, shame and regret.
It happened as we were searching a cottage just off of the main road. We’d used Old Trusty to get inside, and I’d rushed straight into the kitchen to find the food. We’d run out more than a day before and I was famished. My sister followed me into the kitchen, a wide grin on her pretty little face because I was sitting there with an open can of beans. Then one of them came at her from behind. I must have walked right past it on my stupid way to the cupboards. It bit into her neck and blood gushed over the tiles in a torrent. As she yelled out in agony, I leapt up and implanted the crowbar right into the thing’s skull. It crumpled to the floor, but the damage was done.
‘Don’t let me lose myself.’ That was the last thing my sister whispered to me before she passed out. Her wound was much more severe than mine is, and much closer to the brain. That seems to make it quicker. I took grandpa’s revolver from behind my back and blew her brains out.
I buried her in the back garden.
*
After my sister died I went kind of crazy. I took Old Trusty out across the fields and pulverised every ugly I could find. I don’t even remember it that well, it was just, find, kill, find, kill…
We’d only been going out in daylight before then but, in my anger, I carried on through the nights. That’s how I learned about their inability to evade in darkness. Eventually, though, one got me. I found three munching on a dead cow and ran straight at them. Took out the first two easily enough, but the third managed to scratch my leg with a bloody fingernail just before I clobbered it into oblivion. Once I realised its nail had broken the skin, it was like a switch had been flicked inside me. That’s it, I’m dead too. I lost my bloodlust and came back here.
*
If none of this had happened, I think my sister would have eventually gone into medicine. I was doing okay at College but she was top of her class at school. And she had a really kind nature too. She’d never squish any bugs that got trapped in our house; she’d get a glass, scoop the little critter up and seal it inside with a book. Then she’d take it outside and release it, even if it was a wasp.
*
I’ve decided that here’s not the place. I'll hit Submit and then I’m going to do it in those woods I wrote about; consider this diary as my Note. I’ll be able to find a nice spot to sit and look at the trees, some place that's calm and peaceful. I’m going to leave the picture of Guitar Girl in this cellar, she belongs in this house. The tree leaves will remind me of my sister more than any photo ever could anyway.
I guess all that’s left to say is thank you for listening.
I know it’s possible that no one will ever read this, but that’s not really the point is it?
Love,
X

March/April 1519
The Italian War of 1515-1516 and its consequences have been disastrous for the county of Cremona and its people. Much like in several of the previous conflicts in Lombardy, Cremona was bitterly contested by the French and Imperial armies, having been the victim of a lengthy Imperial siege in 1515 and a much shorter French siege in 1516. The results were devastating, and the scars of the sieges were still readily apparent when Francesco Maria arrived in the city in late 1517.
Though he meant to spend the beginning of 1518 helping to heal these scars, God had other plans. The treason of the Gonzaga of Mantua revealed at the Trial of Cesena, and the following declaration of war by Pope Leo X turned Francesco Maria’s attentions from peace to war. By March, he was already in the field.
Before long, the campaign year settled into a siege. Sieges are long, plodding affairs, leaving Francesco Maria with an abundance of downtime between directing engineers and commenting on maps of proposed trenches. Throughout the year, a flurry of letters flew between his camp and Cremona, managing and directing the repair of his new city from afar. In time, he hopes that these repairs and reforms will build Cremona into the wealthiest of his many possessions.

Prevosto dei Mercanti di Cremona

Among the first reforms introduced by the new Count of Cremona is the creation of a new bureaucratic position, the Provost of the Merchants. Largely copied from the institution introduced in the city of Milan in 1509, the Provost is an official appointed by the Count of Cremona, bearing responsibility for overseeing public works, provisioning the city, collecting taxes, and managing Cremona’s canal network. He is assisted in this task by four assessors, who are nominated by the Count, but approved by a majority vote in Cremona’s city council (of which the Count is the leading member, but by no means the only powerbroker).
With the creation of this new position, Francesco Maria has appointed a loyal administrator from La Marche as Provost, while filling the assessor positions with local notables (a mix of local nobles and upwardly-mobile merchants). To ensure that they have the proper facilities available to them to complete their tasks, he has designated Palazzo Cittanova as their permanent headquarters.
Fixing the Navigli
Like much of Lombardy, Cremona is host to a series of complex, interconnected canals they criss-cross both the city and the province. These canals (the navili in the local dialect) are used for both navigation--allowing Padane trade direct access to workshops and warehouses throughout the city--and agriculture--the various canals bring irrigation water from the Adda and Oglio throughout the county, making it some of the most productive farmland in Italy.
The successive sieges of Cremona caused extensive damage to the navili. The besiegers--first Austrians, then French--regularly diverted the navili to supply fresh water to their siege camps and deny it to the city. Within the city proper, collapsed buildings and sunken ships had clogged narrower portions of the navili, while other sections had been intentionally dammed off to build reservoirs for firefighting or drinking. While the worst of the damage had been repaired since the war ended, the navili were still operating well below their full capacity, causing serious economic damage to the city and its inhabitants.
Addressing this persisting damage is the first task facing the new Prevost--one that is likely to earn near-universal support in Cremona.
Repairing the Walls
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the walls of Cremona were devastated by the successive sieges of the last war. The brutal eleven week Austrian siege of 1515 in particular destroyed large sections of the walls--part of why the French siege in 1516 was so much quicker. While the walls are more-or-less functional at the moment, with earthen palisades protecting those portions that were breached in the two sieges, they still leave much to be desired. As the southeasternmost city of French Milan, it is more likely than not that Cremona will see yet more sieges in the future. Thus, it is critically important that the city’s defenses be brought back into working order, and that they be upgraded to ensure the success of future defenses of the city.
Recognizing the strategic importance of Cremona to maintaining France’s presence in Milan, the Duke Philippe’s regency council has authorized the Count of Cremona to renovate the walls of his city. To this end, France has transferred its best and brightest military engineers (many of whom have already had experience upgrading the walls of other Lombard cities, such as Novara, Asti, Milan, Pavia, Lodi, Bergamo, and Crema), and agreed to fund the upgrades (M: we’re waiting to see what the cost is to work this out). The planned upgrades will introduce modern defensive innovations to the walls, such as reinforcing bastions to allow for enfilade fire and earthen ditches and glacis to protect the base of the walls from cannon fire. Furthermore, the Castello di Santa Croce, the castle and ducal residence on the western edge of Cremona, will be upgraded to bring it in line with modern defensive works (M: I’m not sure how much of the historic upgrades occurred--I’m mostly just looking to make it so that the OTL 1503 fortifications and 1520 fortifications are built with these upgrades). Upgrades and renovations will be managed by the Provost of the Merchants.
Now Entering/Exiting Milan
Cremona’s position is not just strategically important, but economically important. Built just a few miles east of the confluence of the Po and the Adda, Cremona is the first major Milanese city along the Po (Casalmaggiore notwithstanding), making it the first port-of-call for Padane shipping moving into French Milan (or even Savoy--the Po flows all the way to Turin), or the last port-of-call for shipping moving towards the Adriatic. Put simply: just about every vessel moving into or out of Milan will pass by Cremona at some point. This makes Cremona ideally situated for two things, which are mutually beneficial and, in the right circumstances, very lucrative.
The first is taxation. By decree of the Duke of Milan, Cremona will henceforth be a mandatory port-of-call for merchants wishing to enter French Milan via the Po. In order to continue along the Po, merchant vessels will first have to stop at Cremona, where they will have to pay customs duties on the goods they are importing into French territory, as well as a per capita toll on their crew. Once the duties have been paid, the ship’s captain will then be provided proper documentation for his goods and sent on his merry way. Further tolls may be collected along the river--particularly if the ship means to make use of the navigli--but the customs documents will be valid from Cremona to Milan to Turin.
The second is trade. As the first major French port on the Po, Cremona is well-suited to operate as an entrepôt for imports to and exports from Milan. Merchants, looking to save themselves time by avoiding a full trip along the Po, might instead look to offload their goods at Cremona (and pick up goods for their return trip). Others might be looking to transfer their goods to different sized vessels (smaller if they are continuing onto the Po tributaries or the navigli, larger if they are heading towards the Adriatic), or onto numerous different vessels (say, if a spice merchant from Venice wants to send his product to Crema, Pavia, Milan, and Turin). More entrepreneurially-minded local merchants might even try to profit from the arbitrage opportunity introduced by the new customs rates, which are lower for French and Milanese merchants than their foreign counterparts, by buying up foreign (usually Venetian) goods and selling them in French Milan at a profit.
In any case, for Cremona to fulfill this purpose, there is a need for new infrastructure within the city--something that the Count is all too eager to provide. With funds from his own treasury, Francesco Maria will be building a series of warehouses, guest houses and trading posts both near Cremona’s waterfront and further into the city, dotted along its canal network. The largest of these warehouses, dubbed the Fondaco dei Veneto (literally, the warehouse of the Venetians) will be conveniently situated close to the Po. Built in the style of a Venetian fondaco, with high arches, waterfront access, and living quarters above the ground floor, this trading post will specifically cater to Venetian merchants, giving them a safe place to store, buy, and sell their wares while enjoying the comfort of a hot meal and a good night’s rest. All while paying the Count for the services provided, of course!
By mandating that merchant vessels stop at Cremona to pay duties on imported goods, ships that would previously pass Cremona without stopping will have to spend some amount of time in the city’s port. With this in mind, traffic is expected to increase considerably. Thus, it is imperative that ships are moved as quickly and efficiently through Cremona’s port as possible. To this end, Francesco Maria has announced the construction of a new customs house in the port district of Cremona, the Palazzo dei Mercanti, a two-story building intended to function as the administrative headquarters of the new customs system. In search of a leading Italian architect to design the building, Francesco Maria has invited noted pupil of Raphael (who arrived in Milan in 1517 Lorenzetto. Should he fail to retain Lorenzetto’s services, invitations will then be sent to local Lombard architect and pupil of Bramante Antonio da Lonate and, failing that, Girolama Genga, who Francesco Maria has hired several times in the past.
Collecting customs duties, managing the city’s primary customs house, and operating the Count’s network of warehouses and trade posts will all be under the purview of the Provost of the Merchants.
Attracting Investment
Despite its strategic position on the Po and fertile farmland, Cremona is… strangely devoid of economic activity. Francesco Maria is not quite sure why this is (perhaps Venetian merchants and Lombard nobles fled with their wealth when the province was conquered by France?), but the effect is the same: there is an immense opportunity to expand the county’s productivity. Like the rest of Lombardy, Cremona’s farmland is some of the most productive of Europe, and the city’s position on the Po gives it easy access to population centers like Turin, Milan, and Venice.
If the Venetian merchants won’t invest in the province, maybe their Lombard and French counterparts will. The new Provost of the Merchants of Cremona will offer institutional and legal support to subjects of French Milan--that is, French and Lombard merchants, nobles, and clergy--looking to establish new holdings in the city and the county. To help incentivize further investment by Cremona’s nobility and merchant families, Francesco Maria will also consider the willingness of individuals to reinvest in Cremona when making future political appointments in the county--most notably the four assessors of the Provost of the Merchants and the Castellan-Provosts of the Castellany-Provostships of the county.

Castellano-Prevosto di Cremona

Much like the city of Cremona was adversely affected by the sieges of 1515 and 1516, the countryside saw substantial damage. Armies on campaign tend to pick the countryside bare, stealing whatever they can get their hands on (most especially grain and livestock) and killing whoever tries to stop them. As Austrian, French, Venetian, and Bourbon armies criss-crossed the Cremonesi countryside, it was treated no differently. Fields were burned, livestock were slaughtered, storehouses were robbed, and families fled. Though peace has returned once again, the damage remains, and Francesco Maria must address it.
With the exception of the navili, which are governed by the Provost of the Merchants, the countryside of Cremona falls under the direct jurisdiction of the Count and is administered through a series of appointed administrators called Castellan-Provosts. It falls to those Castellans to mete out the Count’s aid and repair the land.
Food for All
The nice thing about farms is that they are largely self-sustaining. With proper stewardship, one harvest yields enough seed for the next, livestock beget livestock, and the farm continues as it always has. The bad thing about farms is that the bulk of farmers do not generate much in the way of surplus value. This means that when looting armies come through, burn fields, slaughter livestock, steal all of your valuables, and otherwise ruin (or end) farmers’ lives, the farmers can struggle to garner the capital necessary to start their lives anew. Such is the case in the countryside of Cremona.
In order to help restore the agricultural wealth of Cremona--the lifeblood of the province--Francesco Maria has authorized the disbursal of additional funds to the Castellan-Provosts, who will distribute these funds to replenish livestock herds and seed stores throughout the County.
Settling Property Disputes
While many farmers return to their fields after a war, some do not--some because they found a new life elsewhere, and others because they died. Ownership disputes over the lands they leave behind are common. Neighbors expand their farms into the abandoned lands while sons, cousins, uncles, brothers-in-law, and people pretending to be those things lay claim to the land of families who died. Sometimes, these competing claims turn violent.
Sifting through these claims and keeping the peace is the duty of the Castellan-Provosts. To help ensure that these legal claims are dealt with quickly and efficiently, Francesco Maria has transferred funds to the Castellan-Provosts to hire additional administrative and legal personnel.
Summary: Francesco Maria is spending money to reduce devastation throughout Cremona. A new administrative position, the Provost of the Merchants of Cremona (mirroring the Provost of the Merchants implemented in Milan in 1509) is tasked with repairing the canal system of the province, while the Castellan-Provosts who administer the countryside will be given additional financial support to repair the county’s agricultural production. Furthermore, with support from the Duke of Milan, Cremona’s walls will be repaired and upgraded.
The Duke of Milan has also designated the city of Cremona as the official customs hub for imports entering the Duchy of Milan. While the rates will be set by the Duke, the Count of Cremona (through the Provost of the Merchants of Cremona) is responsible for collecting those customs, which are intended to protect French and Lombard merchants in Milan from foreign (mostly Venetian) competition. Hoping to profit off of this new importance of Cremona for trade along the Po, Francesco Maria has also authorized the construction of a new customs house and trade hub within the city.
Moderation required:

• Price for reducing devastation in Cremona (4A1) and the unnamed neighboring province (4A2) through repairing the canal system and rebuilding the rural farm economy
  
• Price for rebuilding and upgrading Cremona’s (4A1) defenses (which will be shared with France--let me know what the cost ends up being, and I’ll let you know what the payment split will be)
  
• Price for building a trade hub (or fondachi?) holding in Cremona (4A1)
  
• Resolution for building customs house in Cremona (need to know which of Lorenzetto, Antonio da Lonate, and Girolama Genga accepts the Duke’s offer to design the building; cost for the construction; and also what mechanical effects it will have. Not sure if this should be a holding like the sound dues, a staple port holding, a tax efficiency increase for Cremona, or what--open to discussion)
  
• How successful is Francesco Maria’s call for investment in Cremona (4A1) and the unnamed neighboring province (4A2)? These provinces currently have almost no holdings in them (not counting the city, there are only three holdings between them), so I’m hoping to attract estates to build them out a bit. Not sure what estates are around these parts, but I imagine it’d be stuff like Lombard/Milanese/French merchants/clergy/nobility. Merchant/noble families in the county who make considerable investments will be favored when it comes time for the count to make political appointments in the future (most notably, the assessors of the Provost of the Merchants of Cremona and the Castellan-Provosts of the Castellan-Provostships of the county’s Castellany-Provostships).
  

This story is true about what my husband experienced one summer in the mid 90’s while working as a grounds keeper at a camp for kids.
It was the early 90’s and at the time my husband, Eddie (just passed his 19th birthday) hadn’t yet decided whether or not he wanted to go to college. He had recently lost touch with most of his high school friends and as such, didn’t have much planned for the summer. So, when the offer to be a live-in grounds keeper at a children’s day camp came his way, Eddie was happy to take the opportunity. He lived in a rural area of Ontario so the camp, surrounded by trees and having it’s own small lake, was both secluded enough to have peace and quiet, but not so far away that he couldn’t manage a trip home on the off days.
While the seclusion wasn’t geographically extreme, once everyone left on Friday afternoons – all the children gone, the day staff back home to their families – the place was actually really eerie. This was magnified by the fact that at the time, Eddie didn’t have a car, and the only phone was about a 20 minute walk from his tiny cabin at the back of the property along a dark dirt path. This meant that most evenings and weekends were spent next to a camp fire or inside the cabin with the door locked listening to loud music and having a few drinks.
Usually, the property was really quiet and it would actually get boring out there with no one to talk to and nothing to do. Eddie once told me that he would pass time by canoeing around the tiny lake (which was more like a large pond) and catching every turtle he could find. He would place them in the bottom of the canoe( with some water and lily-pads so they were comfortable) then once he caught every one he could find, he would canoe to different parts of the lake and put them back one-by-one. So, obviously, there wasn’t much going on in the area.
It was one quiet night however, where despite how peaceful it seemed, there was definitely something evil happening out in those trees and fields.
The night started like any other. It was a warm Saturday in Ontario which meant that the bugs were biting and you could drown in the humidity. It was getting toward the end of the summer and Eddie had gotten into the weekly routine - cleaning and fixing things around the camp during the week days then wandering around the property on the weekends. This Saturday had started off no different that the others. Eddie had done a quick security sweep of the area in the morning to make sure nothing was amiss, then spent the afternoon paddling around the lake catching turtles. A few hours before sundown, Eddie was back at his cabin and had built a nice campfire. He always made sure to start the fire before dark.
On this Saturday Eddie had spent the evening cooking a meal over the fire and reading his favorite Stephen King novel The Stand. He had listened to the weather forecast on the little cabin radio earlier that morning and was aware there was a chance of some nasty thunderstorms that night. He was keeping a close eye on the wind and the clouds as night rolled in, knowing that even this far north, the heat and humidity was known to give rise to fearsome tornadoes every few years.
Not long after he finished his meal, the sky turned dark and the wind began to pick up. Eddie doused his fire and was starting to pack up his book and his dishes when he heard something moving through the brush. He stopped and listened for a moment. The rustling continued, but figuring it was a racoon or a deer, Eddie went about his business – more concerned with the approaching storm.
Once in the cabin, Eddie locked the door and felt a little more secure. He turned on the single, un-shaded light bulb that hung above the sink. The rickety cabin wasn’t much, it had no bathroom and no stove, just a mini fridge, sink, a hot plate, and musty bed. As rickety as it was, it still had a lock on the door and the only window was too small for a person to fit through without a struggle.
Soon, Eddie was getting settled back in with his book. It wasn’t long before the rustling sound he had heard outside returned, but this time it sounded like something was brushing up again the outside wall of the cabin. Still thinking it was just an animal, Eddie tried to keep his attention on his book. The curtains on the window were closed, so he couldn’t see outside, but he knew it was dark and thought he heard the distant rumbling of thunder. The rustling and brushing sound was right outside his door now. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he had heard the handle jiggle.
Suddenly the rustling turned to a crashing and it sounded like two or three people were running away from the cabin. This startled Eddie causing him to drop his book.
“Maybe that wasn’t just a deer after all”. Eddie thought out loud. He stood up and hesitated.
What was he going to do?
Part of his job was to watch out for trespassers and notify them that they had to leave if he found any. Usually this was an easy job. He was only run into this a couple times and both occasion it was a group of local kids taking a nighttime swim in the pond. Usually, he scared them more than they scared him.
Thinking this was probably the case – the local kids having found his cabin and decided to play a bit of a prank on him- Eddie grabbed his keys and his flashlight and headed for the door.
He could hear the wind howling and the rain starting to tap on the roof. Not quite a downpour yet.
He took a deep breath and opened was about to open the door when he heard a gentle tapping on the window. This was obviously not rain.
The hairs on his arms stood at attention. His blood ran cold even in the stuffy and sweltering heat of late July. He was frozen with his hand on the door knob. Not even breathing. Something in his stomach was telling his to remain completely still and whatever he did to NOT OPEN THE DOOR.
After a few minutes, the tapping hadn’t returned. The rain was coming down harder now and Eddie began to breath again. He let go of the door knob and immediately turn off the light. He quietly got under the covers, not even bothering to take off his shoes or put back the large, metal flash light, in case whatever it was that was out there came back. Eventually he fell asleep.
The next morning Eddie awoke and felt no sign of the eerie presence from the night before. He got up and immediately noticed that the storm had passed and the morning sun was shining through the curtains. Groggy and a bit shaken, Eddie splashed some water on his face and began to rummage through the fridge for something to eat.
He was just debating whether he wanted to cook his eggs and bacon over the fire or if the firewood was too damp when there were a loud knock at the door. Eddie jumped and almost soiled his pants. No one had even shown up unannounced way out here on a Saturday.
“Eddie, it’s Jim, your mom’s friend from work. Are you in there?”
Eddie recognized the voice. His mom worked in dispatch for the local police department. Eddie, being a bit of a trouble maker in a small town, knew the members of the force both from family BBQ’s and from his own personal run-ins.
Eddie let out a breath and relaxed a bit, but then it hit him – Why was Jim out here so early on a Saturday?
Thinking something might be wrong at home, Eddie rushed to the door and unlocked it.
“Hey Jim, is everything okay? Why are you out here?”
“Morning Eddie, everything is fine, but your mom sent me to pick you up and bring you home this morning.” Jim looked around the cabin. He was in his uniform and Eddie could make out his cruiser a few yards away. Eddie noticed Jim was subconsciously fingering his weapon.
“I think you’re mistaken Jim. I’m not supposed to be going home until next weekend and Mom said that she was going to come out to pick me up.” Eddie took a step back and watched Jim’s face as he surveyed the tiny cabin.
“I know that was the original plan, Eddie, but we all think it’s best that you get your things and come with me.” Jim stood in the door with the face of a man who was not to be questioned. The hair’s on Eddie’s arms stood up and he had no choice but to agree and begin to pack up his belongings.
As they packed the car, Eddie could have sworn he was a set of shoe prints that made a trail around his cabin.
After driving in silence for a few minutes Jim casually began asking Eddie what he had been up to last night.
“Did you go out at all or just stay by the fire?” Jim asked, his eyes watching Eddie through the rearview mirror.
“I was by the fire, but they went in side when it started to rain. That storm was starting, so I didn’t want to be caught out in it.”
“It must get a bit creepy out there all alone during a storm”, Jim said. That’s when Eddie remembered the tapping at the window and the strange rustling sounds.
“Actually, it’s usually fine, but last night I got a bit of a scare. Just as the storm was starting, I think an animal or something was walking around my site. Probably a coyote or a fox that smelled my supper.” Eddie’s eyes locked with Jim’s.
“Did you see anything?” Jim asked.
“No. At first I thought it was some of the local kids that I had kicked out of the lake a couple weeks ago. Thought maybe they were playing a bit of a prank on me in return, but the rain was starting to pick up, so I decided to stay in the cabin and pretend I didn’t notice.” Not wanted to sound like a wimp in front of one of his mom’s coworkers in the force, Eddie lied about the chills he had experienced.
“That’s probably for the better.” Jim said. “They usually go away if you ignore them”.
The rest of the ride was silent. Eddie drifted to sleep for a little while and when he awoke they were pulling into the driveway of his parents house. His mom was standing on the front steps when they got there.
“Eddie!” His mom called as he was getting out of the car. “Come inside, I have coffee and breakfast ready”.
“Thanks mom, just let me get my things from the trunk.”
“Just leave them for now. Jim is going to join us for breakfast. You can get your things after we talk.” His mom turned and disappeared into the house. A little confused, but hungry from having missed his morning meal, Eddie shrugged and walked toward the house. Jim locked the car and followed close behind.
Eddie sat at the kitchen table and was greeted with a plate of hot pancakes with bacon and a fresh cup of coffee. Eddie began to eat but noticed that Jim and his mom were only drinking coffee.
After a couple minutes of pleasantries Eddie was starting to get annoyed.
“Why did you pick me up early mom? And if you’re home, why did you send Jim out to get me? Mom, what’s going on!?”.
“Eddie,” his mother said his nice calmly yet firmly in the way only a mother can, as she rested her hand on this arm. He stopped and looked at her. What she said next still gives my husband a pit in his stomach to this day.
“Three people were found dead within a mile of that camp early this morning, just as the storm was clearing.” The words sounded distant in Eddie’s ears.
“What do you mean? Like a car accident?” Eddie was confused but starting to get nervous.
“A man was found dead at the bottom of a radio tower a half mile up to road. We don’t know how he got in there, but it looks like he tried to climb it and fell off.”
Eddie’s eyes widened.
“About a half a mile in the other direction, a young man and woman, about your age Eddie, were found dead. The woman was in the house and the man was found in the back yard. They were both stabbed to death. We found no evidence of a break in.” Jim told this part of the story. He watched Eddie to gauge his reaction.
Suddenly Eddie’s pancakes didn’t taste to good any more and he felt a knot build in his stomach.
“So, you came to get me because you were afraid I might be dead too.” Eddie said this slowly and looked at both his mother and officer Jim.
“Did you hear or see anything strange last night, Eddie?” His mother tightened to grip on his arm and looked into his eyes. He glanced at officer Jim who gave an emotionless stare back.
“Yeah. I was telling Jim that I heard what I thought was an animal rummaging around by the fire after I went to bed. It didn’t go away and I thought it might be some of the local kids. I was going to check it out, but the rain was heavy and I thought they would go away if I stayed inside and ignored them.”
“Thank god you did.” Eddie’s mom hugged him and tried her best to hold back tears. Eddie hugged his mom back. His breath shallow from the shock.
Had he almost been one of the victims of this murder? Had the murderer tried to hide out at the camp after brutally slaying the young couple up the road? If Eddie hadn’t gone inside when he did, would he have been murdered while he sat by his fire?
Eddie’s thought were spinning so fast that he didn’t even notice Jim get up and leave. It was a half hour later when his mother calmed down enough for Eddie to realize that Jim had driven off with his things.
“Mom, you need to call Jim, my things are in his car!”
“I’ll call the station and let them know”. Eddie’s mom didn’t seem surprised that Jim had left without saying goodbye. She just went to the phone and called the station.
“Hi Gale, it’s Penny. Eddie was wondering when Jim will be back with his bags.” At the time, Eddie didn’t notice that his mother hadn’t had to explain the situation to her coworkers in dispatch. Wouldn’t they be wondering why Jim had Eddie’s bags in the car?
Jim eventually came back on his way home after his shift. He dropped Eddie’s stuff off, gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, and said “take care of yourself, kid. It was smart of you not to open that door last night.”
It wasn’t until looking back on the incident 5 years later that Eddie realized Jim had come to pick him up for two reasons. Either, after receiving the call about the three deaths, they were all afraid that Eddie, out there alone in the food with no way to call for help, mate the same fate as the poor souls who lost their lives during that storm, OR, Eddie himself had been the one who had stabbed a young man and his wife to death in their own home before murdering a third victim near a radio tower in the field adjacent to the camp.
Eddie isn’t certain, but when he counts the story, he seems to remember when he got his bags back they weren’t packed in the same way he had left them. He is convinced that his mother and the officers thought that we had been the perpetrator of the terrible crimes committed that stormy July night in southwestern Ontario.
They never did end up finding the killer.

You wake up and assume that it’s a normal day. You drag yourself out of bed and down to your kitchen to get you morning cup of coffee (or insert another drink here if you want). However when you open the door you see the pochita's small orange dog form rummaging around in your cupboard eating your bread. What’s your next move?
(there are no signs of any forced entry eg:broken windows etc)

I have a concrete kitchen counter, and i want buy a reverse osmosis filtration system for drinking water under my kitchen sink. The kind that's like $500 from Lowes and has a standalone tap just for drinking water (also, let me know if you think these type of systems are awful!)
Given that they're going to have to cut through concrete (and refinish that portion after) to install the new tap, i was just wondering if my average local plumber is going to be qualified to do this job or if i need to get some other type of contractospecialist to do the concrete work?
I've never had a concrete countertop before i bought this house so I'm not sure how difficult they are to work with, apologies if this is a standard job that any plumber could regularly do!

Hello all . I would like to apologize in advance for my English because it is not my native language. So excuse me if you find some spelling errors I didn't think of posting here before because I didn't have any opportunity or topic. But this time I am confused. And I can't find any solution. I am M24 years old and I live with my parents. I have an older sister F27 married to a man M29 since 3 years . He have a very good relationship with us and even my parents love him very much and consider him as our brother . They live about 4 hours away from our city because of the husband’s work.The husband is currently out of the country on a business trip, and two weeks ago I was making some trips to market the products manufactured by the company I work for.I found myself close to the city where my sister lives I called her to ask about her news, I did not want to let her know that I was close because I wanted to make a surprise visit to her, in the call she said that she is not working today and that she is doing some housework, I went and bought some wine and cake and went to her house I knocked on the door and when it opened I did not expect that reception, she seemed tense and afraid, she told me why did you not tell me that you were coming,I told her that I wanted to surprise you, she let me entre the house She was wearing a bathing suitshe was asking a lot of questions such as how did you come and where are u staying and will you leave Today, like something was waiting for her.In the kitchen, I saw two glasses of wine, and it looked like someone was there I didn't want to stay long. I gave her the cake and the wine and told her I was leaving and in a hurry so as not to put her in a bad position.I went out of the house and did not turn around behind me, I was returning home quickly, but my thinking were all the time about what happened, I did not want to keep doubting her,so I ran back and sat in the car watching the house, she called me after two hours asking if I had reached the house, so I told her that I was going to another city An hour later, she went out with a man and got into his car. I followed them and they entered a nightclub. I entered after them. After they had some drinks, they started exchanging kisses. And he started touching her body in a disgusting way, and they were heading to the private room. I went out and went back to my house. i felt regret for the whole idea to go visiting her I spent a week thinking about how I would act. I didn’t want to tell my parents because I didn’t know how they would react,especially my sister’s husband is very close to their heart, and if I didn’t tell him He might find out later and the end would be very bad , i couldn't open this with my sister because she will call me a liar and our relationship will broke

There are two problems. First is whenever I try to fast travel to the triangle between Durable Dunn's Sacked caravan, Raul's shack and Vault 34 game crashes. Second is whenever I fight any turret that is connected to a ceiling game crashes.
There is a modlist.
#Mod_Priority,#Mod_Status,#Mod_Name,#Mod_Version
"0000","+","DLC: TribalPack",""
"0001","+","DLC: OldWorldBlues",""
"0002","+","DLC: MercenaryPack",""
"0003","+","DLC: LonesomeRoad",""
"0004","+","DLC: HonestHearts",""
"0005","+","DLC: GunRunnersArsenal",""
"0006","+","DLC: DeadMoney",""
"0007","+","DLC: ClassicPack",""
"0008","+","DLC: CaravanPack",""
"0009","-","Utilities_separator",""
"0010","+","Fixed ESMs",""
"0011","+","JIP LN NVSE Plugin","f57.01"
"0012","+","JohnnyGuitar NVSE","4.93.0.0"
"0013","+","Crash Logger","3.0.0.0"
"0014","+","NVTF - New Vegas Tick Fix","10.2.2.3"
"0015","+","NVTF - INI Presets","10.2.2.2"
"0016","+","FNV Mod Limit Fix","3.0.0.0"
"0017","+","kNVSE Animation Plugin","20.0.0.0"
"0018","+","Console Paste Support","1.0.0.0"
"0019","+","ShowOff xNVSE Plugin","1.60.0.0"
"0020","+","ShowOff xNVSE Plugin INI","--"
"0021","+","JIP Companions Command and Control","2.60.0.0"
"0022","+","JIP CCC HD icons","1.0.0.0"
"0023","+","SUP NVSE","8.35.0.0"
"0024","-","Bug Fixes_separator",""
"0025","+","Yukichigai Unofficial Patch - YUP","12.6.0.0"
"0026","+","Unofficial Patch NVSE Plus","1.4.4.0"
"0027","+","Improved AI (Navmesh Overhaul Mod)","2.0.0.0"
"0028","+","lStewieAl's Tweaks and Engine Fixes","8.65.0.0"
"0029","+","Stewie Tweaks Essentials INI","f1.05"
"0030","+","Presets for LstewieAL's Tweaks","5.0.0.0"
"0031","+","Combat Lag Fix (NVSE)","1.0.0.0"
"0032","+","ISControl Enabler and Ironsights adjuster (now ESPless)","1.4.0.0"
"0033","+","Vanilla Iron Sights Realligned","1.1.0.0"
"0034","+","New Vegas Mesh Improvement Mod - NVMIM","1.10.0.0"
"0035","+","Collision Meshes","1.6.3.0"
"0036","+","Asterra's Many Fixes","1.16.0.0b"
"0037","+","Improved Lighting Shaders","1.5.0.0b4a"
"0038","+","Climate Control NVSE","1.0.0.0"
"0039","+","Elijah Voice Audio Files Fix","0.2.0.0"
"0040","+","ActorCause Save Bloat Fix","1.0.0.0"
"0041","+","Aqua Performa - Strip Performance Fix","1.0.0.0"
"0042","+","Fog-based Object Culling","2.0.0.0"
"0043","+","Exterior Emittance Fix - NVSE","1.1.0.0"
"0044","+","Crafting Consistency Fix","1.1.1.0"
"0045","+","ExRB - Extended Roombounds","1.4.0.0"
"0046","+","Strip Lights Region Fix","1.3.0.0"
"0047","+","Johnson Nash Ammo Fix","1.0.0.0"
"0048","-","User Interface_separator",""
"0049","+","UIO - User Interface Organizer","2.30.0.0"
"0050","+","One HUD - oHUD","1.2.1.0"
"0051","+","The Mod Configuration Menu","1.5.0.0"
"0052","+","Vanilla UI Plus (New Vegas)","9.48.0.0"
"0053","+","Clean Vanilla Hud","0.59.0.0b"
"0054","+","Consistent Pip-Boy Icons","4.4.0.0"
"0055","+","Consistent Addon Icons","4.0.0.0"
"0056","+","Clean Companion Wheel","0.9.0.0"
"0057","+","High Res Local Maps","1.2.0.0"
"0058","+","High Resolution Screens","1.1.0.0"
"0059","+","yUI - User Ynterface","1.4.0.0d"
"0060","+","Simple Cursor (YUI)","0.1.0.0"
"0061","+","ySI - Sorting Ycons","1.4.0.0b"
"0062","-","Gameplay_separator",""
"0063","+","JAM - Just Assorted Mods","4.4.0.0"
"0064","+","Bullet Time Improved - a JAM addon","f1.01"
"0065","+","NPCs Sprint In Combat","2.13.0.0"
"0066","+","Real Recoil","1.2.1.0"
"0067","+","Real Recoil Tweaks","1.0.0.0"
"0068","+","Follower Tweaks","1.0.0.0"
"0069","+","Delay DLC Redux","1.5.0.0"
"0070","+","NV Collectibles - Merged","1.0.0.0"
"0071","+","Better Caravan","1.0.0.0"
"0072","+","Soft-Lock Aim-Assist","1.1.0.0"
"0073","+","FOV Slider","2.9.0.0"
"0074","+","NAWEMO - NPCs use Ammo Variants and Weapon Mods","1.3.3.0"
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"0076","+","Martialize","0.6.0.0"
"0077","+","Consistent Spread - Firearms Accuracy and Wobble Fix","1.1.0.0"
"0078","+","BallistX - Internal and External Ballistics","5.0.0.0"
"0079","+","B42 Inspect - aka Animated Ammo and Weapon Condition Checking","f1.01-hotfix"
"0080","+","B42 Melee Bash","0.5.0.0b"
"0081","+","B42 Quickthrow - an alternative grenade hotkey mod","3.1.0.0b"
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"0083","+","B42 Descriptions aka Pip-Info","0.3.0.0"
"0084","-","Overhauls_separator",""
"0085","+","JSawyer Ultimate Edition","5.5.1.0"
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"0089","+","Food Effect Tweaks - Custom Food Healing","1.0.0.0"
"0090","+","Player Combat Priority","1.0.2.0"
"0091","+","Player Combat Priority Alt Chance To Attack Dog Patch","1.0.0.0"
"0092","+","Essential Vanilla Enhancements Merged","1.3.2.0"
"0093","+","Essential Vanilla Enhancements Merged - JSawyer Ultimate Push Tweaks Patch","1.3.2.0"
"0094","+","EVEM - YUP Patch","1.0.0.0"
"0095","+","EVEM - Crafting Consistency Fix Patch","1.0.0.0"
"0096","+","EVEM - JSUE Patch","1.0.0.0"
"0097","+","EVEM - Mojave Arsenal Patch","1.0.0.0"
"0098","+","Navmesh Overhaul VNV Patch","1.0.0.0"
"0099","+","Better Character Creation","1.0.0.0"
"0100","+","Harder Barter Faster Stronger","f1.01"
"0101","+","Economy Overhaul","3.0.4.0"
"0102","+","Economy Overhaul - FO3E INI","3.0.0.0"
"0103","+","Better Brotherhood","2.1.0.0c"
"0104","+","DEC - Dynamic Essential Companions","1.1.0.0"
"0105","+","Immersive Critical Effects (AKA Classic Critical Effects)","f1.06a"
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"0113","+","Essential DLC Enhancements Merged - JSUE Patch","1.0.0.0"
"0114","+","Mojave Raiders","1.2.3.0"
"0115","+","Mojave Raiders Tweaks","1.0.0.0"
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"0127","+","FPGE Patch - Uncut Wasteland (Viva New Vegas)","1.0.0.0"
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"0183","+","rockomotion","1.0.0.0"
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"0189","+","Auto Melee Debulked","1.0.0.0"
"0190","+","Unarmed Animations","f1.00"
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"0208","+","Cloud Shadows","1.0.1.0"
"0209","+","Cloud Shadows - Clear Weather","1.0.0.0"
"0210","+","Cloud Upgrade NVSE","1.0.0.0"
"0211","+","Interior Rain","1.0.0.0"
"0212","+","Climate Control - Rain","1.0.0.0"
"0213","+","Character Expansions Revised","2.0.0.0"
"0214","+","Character Expansions - YUP","P2.0"
"0215","+","Character Expansions Revised - JSU","P1.1"
"0216","+","Character Expansions Revised - MR","P1.3"

PART 15 <==H==> FIRST
----------
Will was excited, the past few weeks seemed to herald a new change in Ilicia’s and Agrana's relationship. He had been surprised when came back that first day to find Agrana eating and chatting idly with Ilicia. He was more surprised when Ilicia told him what had happened and when Agrana came to him to assure him of the end of her attempts on Ilicia's life. Will had nearly exploded trying to contain his shock.
It was now commonplace to see Ilicia and Agrana chatting when Will was not around. Will suspected his grandmother did something to facilitate this, but she assured him she had done nothing other than explain her relationship with Karva. Will was suspicious by nature, and as the Princess's Man, he was obligated to be suspicious of all things having to do with the princess. And an Ogdeshi taking a sudden interest in the princess and serving her was suspicious.
Will knew Agrana was a woman of her word. But he also knew her as a master manipulator, and he had confidence in the fact that Agrana would see little wrong with killing a large number of humans to get what she wanted. The thought of Ilicia coming to harm sent blood rushing through him in a way that threatened to bring on the natural occurrence of the Orcish blood rage.
Will was excited. All of this rushed through his head as he walked with Ilicia. He knew he was worried, and he hoped today would provide some reassurance for his ever-active imagination. Today was the day after he completed his training and he was to spend the entire day with Ilicia. She walked next to him, her arm through his, as he led them both through the twists and turns of a forest path that ended in a strange building seeming to grow out of the wood of a gargantuan tree.
The door opened automatically as they approached to reveal a wood elf-man in clothing that seemed to emanate a sense of regal energy. The elf smiled at them and bowed. "Master Will, Princess Ilicia, welcome and please do come in."
Ilicia smiled back at the man. "Thank you sir."
"How is the family Jullian?" Will asked as he stepped through the door, making it feel three inches too small in all directions.
"My wife is well, she is in the kitchen cooking as usual. I will be serving you today as my children are not here at the moment." Jullian said with a quick bow. He led them through the building which Ilicia realized was far larger than it appeared from the outside. They passed several other couples and groups that were seated at different tables as Jullian led them up a sweeping flight of stairs and out onto a balcony that appeared to be several hundred feet in the air and protruding from the tree.
"Will, what is going on with this building?" Ilicia asked, getting a twisting feeling in her stomach as she looked over the railing.
"That would be my wife's fault, she does as she will." Jullian said to Ilicia with an apologetic smile. He bowed once more, and then turned and walked away.
"What is this place Will?" Ilicia asked looking around and noting more and more things that simply felt off. She opened her mouth to speak again as a silver platter with goblets of water floated over and unloaded its cargo before simply vanishing into thin air.
Will laughed at her shock. "Jullian is a wood elf."
"Even I noticed that." Ilicia said wondering where Will was going with this.
"His wife is a goddess." Will said with a smile at how quickly Ilicia's jaw dropped. "We are not sure what she is a goddess of, but she has a penchant for cooking and brewing and she loves Jullian with her whole heart. She fell in love with him when he found her wounded in the woods and stayed by her side, talking of his home in the woods of his youth, he cooked for her and cared for her for three weeks before she could rise on her own."
"Wow." Ilicia said, "Do you know how she was injured?"
"No,and I am not sure anyone knows except Trina. That is the name she has chosen to go by. She also tells people that she is simply Jullian's goddess when asked what she is a goddess of. She is a rather interesting character, if she ever comes to say hello I am willing to bet you will like her."
Ilicia smiled at Will and Jullian reappeared. "So what would you like to eat?"
Will smiled and rattled off a list of food which all sounded strange. Ilicia looked around to see where he had made his selection, but Jullian simply smiled at her and told her to ask for anything she desired. Ilicia realized what was going on and ordered her favorite food from home. Jullian smiled, bowed, and vanished through the doors once more.
"Anything we want huh?" Ilicia asked with a mischievous grin on her face.
"She is a goddess. But I will warn you Ilicia, last time I started trying to challenge her in her ability to cook anything, well let's just say she is willing to humor most things. If she feels you crossed a line, she will let you know by making your food so spicy you taste it for weeks, and that's only after the second or third bite." Will said, his tone indicating he was speaking from experience.
"What did you ask her for?" Ilicia asked.
"My dad told me he used to eat at a place called 'micky dees' so I ordered one of everything from their menu, thinking I would have her stumped with food from another world." Will said and then looked up. "She made it all and delivered it to me, told me to enjoy, and told me if I ever asked her to make such ludicrous and disgusting food again, I would find myself unable to eat solid food for a year."
Ilicia laughed and smiled at Will as Jullian brought out a small cart loaded with plates of food he began to lay on the table.
They ate their food and talked about various things. When they were finished eating Jullina brought them dessert. Will turned to Ilicia and broached the topic of Agrana.
"Ilicia," Will said in a serious mood now, "why did you take Agrana as a member of your staff?"
Ilicia was caught a little off guard. "What do you mean? Why would I not take her onto my staff? Her skills are self-evident."
"Oh, I know. I remember well who first taught me other than my father." Will said this with no anger, simply curiosity. "But I would still ask why you did this. Is the protection I provide lacking? Do you anticipate me leaving you anytime soon? I simply want to know what your reasoning was in making this decision."
Ilicia thought for a moment and then spoke. "I had several reasons, mostly I wanted her to not want to kill me. But since then I have come to some conclusions as to why having her around will be better than not."
Will nodded and Ilicia leaned forward taking his massive hand into both of hers. "I do not think your protection is lacking in any way. I am fairly certain that should I ever be kidnapped, you will tear apart the continent one rock at a time, laughing the whole way."
Will shrugged. The noncommittal way he agreed with herreminded her just how powerful Will really was. Ilicia continued. "The short answer is, you can never have enough bodyguards. The long answer is, I think that while you are the Princess's Man, you will begin to fulfill a far more important role in political functions once we return to the kingdom." She finished her thought in her head, "Hopefully that position is as my fiance or husband, and you can leave all the bodyguard work to Agrana."
Will thought about this for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. Ilicia knew he was probably mulling over important thoughts, but a part of her wanted him to just look at her like that as he took her on the table. Ilicia shook her head and spoke once more. "So in addition to helping with my safety in that regard, if you leave to deal with the man who killed your father, I will still have a guardian."
Will nodded at this and seemed to relax. "Very well, but I want you to know if she ever makes a move against you again, I will kill on the spot."
Ilicia nodded, knowing from his tone that this was not a discussion but rather a statement of fact. That mischievous voice in her head also wanted him to command her in that tone. Ilicia blushed at the thoughts she was having and looked away from Will.
Will smiled at her when she finally got her blushing cheeks to cool. "So, we have eaten and now we have a whole day to ourselves. What would you like to do, Ilicia?"
"Well, I would like to visit your grandmother's library if she will let us." Ilicia said, remembering the room of books she saw Yilan in earlier.
"Of course." Will said with a smile.
Jullian appeared. "Is there anything else you would like?"
"No, Jullian it was fantastic as always." Will said with a smile.
"Thank you." Jullian said and turned to Ilicia. "If you have a moment my wife has requested a moment of your time."
"Of course Jullian." Ilicia said, turning to Will.
"I will wait for you outside." Will headrf down stairs on his own.
Ilicia followed Jullian through the building which only further exemplified how incredibly large the building was compared to its looks on the outside. When he finally led her into a kitchen that could have fed the entire castle she grew up in, Jullina bowed to her, smiled at the glowing woman standing behind a counter, and then turned to grab a tray of food and leave.
"Come Princess," the woman gestured to a stool set next to her. "Have a seat and talk with me for a moment."
"Of course." Ilicia said, falling back on court manners in this rather strange incident.
"Firstly, call me Trina," the goddess said, "and secondly, what do I have to do to make you forget your love of Will?"
Ilicia's jaw almost hit the counter. "What do you mean? Why would I ever do such a thing?"
Ilicia was angry, a deep anger that burned deep in her gut. Trina stopped what she was doing, knife paused mid-cut. "I care for Will, his father and mother both were dear friends of mine and always treated me no differently than anyone else. As a divinity, I have some small gift of foresight, and you need not be in love with Will. More importantly, he needs to not love you."
"I see why you wanted to talk to me only." Ilicia said indignantly. "Will would kill you."
"I spared with the boy once, and he very well might be one of the very few mortals who could kill a god, but that is beyond the point." Trina said with a calm voice of understanding. "I need to know what I would have to do, to what I would have to give you, to get you to remove Will from your life."
Ilicia panicked. She hated this woman. She looked into Trina's eyes. "You will have to kill me. I love him, there is nothing you could give me that could replace Will."
The goddess stared hard at Ilicia who did not back down. Trina chuckled. "Those Garrow men sure do pick firecrackers. You know there was a time where Will's father took one of my daughters on a date? She came home and said she would bless whoever he married because he was a handful. Then he went and married Yilan's daughter and they gave birth to a man who is by rights almost a god in terms of his ability and power."
Ilicia's head was spinning as she tried to follow Trina's words with her ears, and with her eyes the flurry of time-defiant movements her hands made. Trina paused again and looked Ilicia in the eyes. "You are a brave woman, and you will need to be. A time will come when the love you hold is used against Will, I hope you are strong enough to face the repercussions. Will is getting anxious, and I can not warp time any more than I already have without causing you harm. Take this and go to him, cherish him while you can princess."
Trina handed Ilicia a sweet roll and then hesitated before placing her hand on Ilicia's head and bowing hers for a moment. Ilicia felt a wave of energy wash over her. "Go forth with my blessing child."
Ilicia stood and left the kitchen to find Jullian waiting to take her outside. The sun was setting, where it had been morning just an hour or two ago. She looked back to the building and then to Will. She shrugged and slipped her arm through his. As she shared the sweet roll with him, Trina's words echoed through her mind.
One phrase in particular rattled her to her bones as Will guided her back to Yilan's library. "...I hope you are strong enough to face the repercussions."
----------
PART 15 <==H==> FIRST
FROM THE AUTHOR: Here it is, the next installment of The Princess's Man! I hope you all enjoy this and have a fantastic day!
​ If you want to support me:
https://www.patreon.com/Akmedrah
https://ko-fi.com/akmedrah
If you want to read my other stories:
HFY Author Page
https://akmedrah.com/
If you want more information about the world and my other writing, check out my World Anvil page!

WARNING: The ending has some parts you might find really disturbing and creapier than usual
Howard, Bernadette and I go downstairs, we go to the kitchen and we see Sheldon, Amy, their son Leonard and Raj
Me: Uncle Sheldon! Aunt Amy!
Sheldon: hello Matias!
Amy: come with your favorite uncle and aunt!
I hug Sheldon and Amy
Me: hello Leonard
Leonard (Sheldon and Amy's son): hello cousin
Me: hello Uncle Raj
Raj: nice to see you Matias
Leonard: it's good everybody is here. Let's make the food
Raj: I'm on it
Bernadette: actually Raj make food for 7 people because Howard, Amy, Matias and I are gonna spend the rest of the day outside
Amy: really?!
Howard: we thought it would a really good idea since Matias almost never visits us. Also I have a really great relationship with Amy and she and Bernadette almost never hang out together
Sheldon: wait wait wait. You're inviting Amy and not me?
Bernadette: sorry Sheldon. The thing is Howard gets along really well with your wife
Howard: maybe another time
Penny: wait. I'm coming. I won't send Matias alone
Howard: he's coming with us sister-in-law don't worry
Amy: if it makes you feel better I'll take Matias home since he visits me more often than
Me: yeah it's ok Aunt Amy
Leonard: let them go
Penny: alright have fun
Amy, Howard, Bernadette and I leave the house
Sheldon: I can't believe Howard and Bernadette kidnapped Matias and that Amy didn't do anything!
Leonard: let them be Sheldon. Amy and you're not Matias' only uncle and aunt
Amy, Howard, Bernadette and I are in the cheesecake factory drinking Coke (me), beer (Howard) and wine (Amy and Bernadette)
Amy, Howard, Bernadette and I: cheers!
Me: this is very nice!
Howard: How about some karaoke?!
Me: yeah!
Howard and I go to the stage and we sing "Yellow Submarine" by the Beatles
Howard:
In the town where I was born
Me:
Lived a man who sailed to sea
Howard:
And he told us of his life
Me:
In the land of submarines
Howard:
So we sailed up to the sun
Me:
Till we found the sea of green
Howard:
And we lived beneath the waves
Howard and me:
In our yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine!
Yellow submarine!
Yellow submarine!
We all live in a yellow submarine!
Yellow submarine!
Yellow submarine!
Afterwards, Amy and Howard sing some Neil Diamond songs, Howard and I sing more Beatles songs, some hours later Amy, Howard, Bernadette and I go to a secret strip club (unknown to Amy, Bernadette and me) and Amy, Bernadette and I notice a tube, which makes us nervous
Me: I have a bad feeling about this Aunt Amy. I think we should go home
Amy: yeah me too
Howard: no one's going home until the show ends
Bernadette: but Howie...
A semi-naked woman gets out of some curtains and dances in the tube
Amy: oh my god that's disgusting!
Bernadette: yeah!
I mindedly put my right hand on Amy's left bare leg and my left hand on Bernadette's right bare leg and I get kind of petrified
Amy: Matias are you ok?
Bernadette: yeah we shouldn't have come here
The woman takes off her bra, exposing her full front body
Me: AHHHH!!!! THAT'S SO DISGUSTING!!!!
Bernadette: yeah!
Amy: gross!
I start crying and I hug Amy
Amy: it's ok Matias it's ok
Howard: I'm sorry Matias...
Me: STAY AWAY FROM ME UNCLE HOWARD!!!! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU FOR A WHILE!!!!
Howard: but....
Amy: STAY AWAY FROM HIM HOWARD!!!! HE'S 13 YEARS OLD!!!! I'M TAKING HIM HOME!!!!
Bernadette: YOU REALLY WENT TOO FAR HOWARD!!!! LOOK HOW MATIAS IS!!!!
A few minutes later Amy and I are climbing the stairs of the Los Robles building
Me: I'm really sorry that I touched your legs and Aunt Bernadette's, Aunt Amy. I lost my conscience when I saw that woman. I'm totally aware I'm too old to touch your legs
Amy: don't worry Matias. What happened to you was completely normal no matter how old you are. It can be forgiven. But I'm proud of you that you payed more attention to your Uncle Howard than me
Amy and I arrive in apartment 4A
Me: thank you for taking me home Aunt Amy. You're like a 2nd mother to me
Amy: You're welcome
Penny opens the door
Penny: oh my god! What happened?!
Me: Uncle Howard took us to a strip club! I saw a woman's boobs! It was awful! Good night!
Penny: thank you for taking Matias home Amy. Even though I'm sometimes jealous of your relationship with him I really love how much you love him
Amy: he sometimes sees me as a 2nd mother. Good night Penny
Penny: good night Amy
Amy goes back to her house
To be continued...

My boyfriend and I are on a very strict diet, and it's a lot of food, The prep for it also takes a while since we have to weight everything. I stay at his place most weekends, & because it's so much food I prep all my stuff before coming over. I weight all my ingredients, put them in containers and bring them as to not use all of my bfs food. He actually pays for a company to bring him his lunches and dinners already made, so he just has to re-heat.
Anyway, it's Saturday morning, and we have to make breakfast, I tell him that we should go to the kitchen to make our breakfast before it gets too late, he says that the race he wants to watch is in 20mins, so I tell him that we could hurry up and make our things as fast as we can so we can come and watch the race together, that way that we don't end up eating too late and then our meals and snacks aren't so close together. He says that he is fine, that he'll just eat the oats that are on the menu for tomorrow, I ask him about 3 times if he is sure that that's what he'll eat, that we have enough time to make the breakfast, but he assures me it's fine. He asks if I could bring him a cup of coffee he had already made earlier, ofcourse I do.
I get everything done pretty quickly since I had everything already prepped. I start eating and he just stares at my food and asks "why didn't you do mine?" and I just stare at him blankly, "that's not fair" I tell him "you said you wanted to make your oats later" he goes back to watch the race in silence, he is obviously mad/annoyed, I don't know. While I am eating I ask him if he wants my beans, I brought extra from home for him, I could just go and warm more for me later, he says no. Ok.. So I finish my brkf while he's literally sulking on the other side of the couch.
The race ends and dead silence. So I ask him what's wrong, if he's mad. He says no. I push and he finally says "well I'm just learning how things are with you" (we've been together for almost a year) I ask "what is that supposed to mean?" and he says "well, how would you feel if I make my breakfast and come eat it in front of you while you have nothing". I am shocked that he just totally ignored the fact that I offered to go make our things together, that I asked him multiple times if he was sure and even offered some of my food and he still had the audacity to be pissed. He just basically said "yeah, ok. I get it. I'm taking the dogs out for a walk" i ask him if he wants me to go with him and he just says "if you want" but he obviously wants me far away.
Now I'm here, wondering AITA for not Making his breakfast ? I don't understand, am I? Why is he so pissed? Honestly I'm more annoyed than anything at this point.
He just came back from walking the dogs, and just left to the balcony to be on his phone.