At at the moment I have a T5H0 tube lamp that I bought recently and I think a ceramic heat emitter (from what I can tell, it came with the stuff we got from my beardie’s old owners). It’s in a dome right now but I’m thinking of getting one of those mesh domes because it gets so hot. Should I get that? Also Do you think I should replace the bulb if I don’t know how old it is? It still gets very hot. Also should I keep it on at night or turn it off? Especially since it’s getting to be much hotter here now that it’s summer. Do I need any other type of heat source? Does it matter what brand the ceramic heat emitter is? Thanks so much!

Hi all,
I would like to convert a shaded topographic map with all the usual assets on it, streets, towns, rivers etc. to a map I can rework in something like Illustrator.
So far I have not succeeded in extracting the rivers with select color range and copying them onto their own layer. My imagined next step would be to either denoise or color-replace the black lettering of towns and mountain ranges to arrive at a somewhat nicde looking blank topographic map.
That may just be impossible. I dunno. If, however, anyone of you ever had succeeded doing something like this, please let me and others know. I'll thank you for that. If it were impossible, can you recommend a good plugin or process for photoshop to grab heightmap data and convert it into a topographic background? I did buy Atlas and Terrain from Orange Box years ago (2018?) but wonder if anything different from their stuff was one the market.
Thanks for taking your time to answer and have a good day.
Best regards, Phil

Early this year I posted to the PA & NY Subreddits about expansions I had for their planned statewide rail network. I decided to go over all my Northeastern proposals and give them a slight refresh , so here is my refreshed proposal for South Jersey : 2019 post. I cut some of the pure fantasy routes while leaning into the more realistic ideas. Did some more research on the various routes that used to crisscross the region and the named Intercity services that used to link to big cities with gateway destinations. There seems to be increasing traction on the PA & DE side to advance their backlog of rail projects. The feds unleashing a tsunami amount of funding seems to fueling that trend unfortunately NJ has been slow to push any project forward aside from a few NEC projects & the Raritan Bay Bridge replacement. I used the openrailways map to comb through the all the rail lines snaking their way around the region , drawing up a reasonable proposal.
Core Infrastructure Upgrades

• Electrify the Atlantic City line, RiverLine & all planned lines in South Jersey
• Convert the Atlantic City into a Regional Rail line with frequent service
• Add Infill Stations along the Atlantic City line at AC Airport, Port Richmond , North Philly
• Expand the Double Track along the AC Line and RiverLINE
• Extend the RiverLINE to West Trenton Station / Trenton Airport
• Rebuild the Inland Rail line
• Extend the PATCO west to the 40th Street Trolley Portal , under Lancaster Ave to the Cynwyd
• Extend the PATCO North to Maple Shade-Route 73 under Federal-Maple-Main Street
• Build the Camden-Glassboro-Millville Line , routed through the Southern portion of Camden
• Build the Camden-Audubon-Clementon-Hammonton Line (Beasley Point Secondary)
• Build a Branch service to Penns Grove from Camden-Woodbury
• Add BRT on Route 42 to Williamstown , Route 70 to Medford & Atlantic City N-S

New NJT & Amtrak Services

• R1: Mount Holly – Maple Shade – Pennsauken – CC Philly – Jenkentown – Glenside
• R2 : Hammonton – Lindenwold – Cherry Hill – CC Philly – Fox Chase
• Atlantic City line : Atlantic City – 30th Street – PHL – every 30mins peak / hourly off peak
• Cape May Line : Cape May – Tuckahoe – Lindenwold – Suburban Station – 6x daily
• Pine Barrens Line : New York – Newark Penn – Red Bank – Hammonton – AC – 6x daily
• Somers Point / Mays Landing – Atlantic City lines : every 10mins peak and 20mins offpeak
• Crusader Service: Hoboken-Newark Penn – West Trenton – Jenkentown – 30th Street – 7x daily
• Blue Comet : Hoboken – Newark Penn – Toms River – Atlantic City – 3x daily
• Amtrak Atlantic Service (Seasonal) Chicago – Pittsburgh – Philly – Atlantic City – 1x daily

Hey everyone,
Been the owner of a used GCP for about 5 months now and love my machine.
Just this week, I had a new boiler fitted as the old one was incredibly scaled and I also had the serviceman fit me the Shades of Coffee PID which I'd planned to do myself (zero experience) but hadn't gotten round to due to the boiler screws being so badly scaled that I couldn't progress with the mod when I first bought the kit.
Anyway, the serviceman mainly deals with commercial machines, but agreed to replace the boiler (which he was confident in doing) and to try fitting the PID (which he wasn't confident in doing, but felt he could have a go based on prior experience) as he owned a Gaggia Classic himself.
He had a real tough time getting it all done, but the PID seems to be operating fine. Brew temp is set to 93° and steam at °135.
The problem I'm having is, when in steaming mode, the Gaggia hits the desired temp and then almost immediately the PID shows the temp dropping to even less than the brew temp. Around 80° from the two tests I did today.
I also found that the machine doesn't heat back up for brewing with the steam button switched off. I have to actually turn the machine off and back on again.
I wanted to know if this sounds like an issue with the PID needing calibrating or if there's some other unidentified problems? I don't hold the serviceman to blame at all as he was so nice to deal with and really went above and beyond for me, but I did urge him not to try the PID installation if he didn't feel confident, so I guess a part of me would have preferred he played it safe.
Any advice appreciated. I feel quite confident navigating the menus of the PID and tinkering with settings. The serviceman was honest in saying he really struggled with the PID interface and only managed to set brew and steam temp.
TLDR: PID hits steam temp and then dropping temp drastically and not producing steam outside of initial 2-3 seconds. Pulling shots just fine.
What are my options, is my machine dead? Can I just uninstall the kit and go back to stock?
Thank you!

Hi all,
I just bought the BenQ MH741 on the second hand market for 125 euro's. This projector offers a 1920x1080 native resolution, uses DLP and has maximum of 4k ANSI lumens. I think a made a decent deal here with the lamp having 700 hours of play time.
Now I cleaned the outside and the inside of the projector (including the fans, mostly to get rid of the bad smell from the previous users) and the picture quality is great. I use the lamp at cinema and eco settings.
I do have one complaint, the noise. Though it is not crazy loud at eco settings, I is still quite noticable when watching a movie. From my knowledge when I opened the projector the loudest fan is the Delta Electronics AUB0812H. This is a 80x80x25mm fan with a maximum RPM of 3900.
I have build multiple PC's and was hoping I could use a high quality PC fan to replace it (soldering is no issue). I was thinking about the Noctua NF-A8, but soon found the following thread: https://www.reddit.com/projectors/comments/r4gf76/benq_w1070_noctua_fan_mod/
Most replies argue it is impossible to replace fans with PC fans. As the first reply mentiones, the Noctua fan moves less air than the Delta Electronics fan. I am using the projector in Eco mode only but the difference in airflow is quite big (50.15 CFM vs 32,67CFM).
I am wondering if anyone has experience with replacing the fan of a BenQ projector. I found a couple of youtube video's of people replacing fans, but not for models that are close to mine. Suggestions for other fans are welcome as well.

My Hawthorne tree bloomed normally this spring, but the blooms and leaves around the blooms turned brown and haven’t fallen off for new leaf growth. The rest of the leaves in the tree are a nice bright green, but the tree is not as full and has bare patches. Earlier this spring, I tore up the stone paver patio surrounding the tree because the roots had pushed up the pavers. I replaced it with a rock garden that has a permeable landscape fabric to allow watenutrients into the soil. The rock garden and base of the tree is pretty well shaded next to some arborvitae on the north side of the house. What’s going on and what can I do to fix it?

I have no where else to scream. So thanks for letting me scream here. I thought a diagnosis would make me feel better, but you know what - fuck that. ADHD ruined my fucking life. Shall I count the ways?

1. Risk taking - well damn. The things I did and the things I said - and where I ended up, because my attitude was fuck all of this - I needed stimulation!! Jaysus the number of times I nearly died is not funny.
2. Rebelling - this ruined my relationship with my parents so badly. I never told them anything, I just fought with them constantly. I realise now, that they were doing their best. They are old now - I wasted so much time - and now they will be gone. Before you say, you can make up that time - do it now - I can't - they live many oceans away - I hardly see them.
3. Drugs and Booze - I was self medicating for years just to try and feel something - FUCKING ANYTHING - and all it did was mask the shitehole my life has become.
4. Masking - wow - this is a big one. The mental rollercoaster, the self esteem issues, the never being good enough, the exhaustion of trying to hold it all together. The worst part is when the real me peeks out and the reaction from others. Makes me want to just hide back in my shell.
5. Lost jobs - hahahahaha - how many places have fired me? For lying (yes I have that project under control), for turning up constantly late.
6. Overworking - I finally figured out how to beat the system! Just work double the hours of my co-workers to get the same amount of work done - YAYAYA!! As a result then be too shattered to do anything else. - rinse repeat. Or how about procrastinating so bad that I lie about how far a project is or that it is the partner company not giving me info, or making up interviews (because of course I did not do them).
7. Nearly failing out of uni - ah this nugget of gold. Academic probation - even though I spend every waking hour in the library - but nothing would stick. Why? Because when you cannot focus, sure nothing will stick! Your memory is for shit!
8. Losing or misplacing everything! - lost engagement ring - check. Lost heriloom necklace - check. Smashed expensive work phone - check, check! My husband still doesn't know I lost the ring - it was an antique - he thinks I just don't wear it because I am worried about ruining it.
9. BUY BUY BUY - here is a great way to get dopamine - buy a LOAD of crap you don't need - whether it is food, shoes, bags, clothes - just do it -you'll feel so much better.
10. Debt and Financial ruin - oh this is the big one. late for an appointment - always - so just pay the late fee or whatever, psych appointment forgotten - here is a bill for 60, the list goes on. I had a massive credit card debit that I eventually paid off - and it is a constant struggle to stay off and not keep buy buy buying. The worst one is this. We will never own a house because of what I did with our mortgage. Our home was repossessed because of missed payments that I was in charge of. Our credit is ruined. My husband earns well - but I forget if we have mustard in the house, so I buy it again (we have three bottles), or I see something I like and buy out the stock of it (not realising they have expiration dates). He doesn't know a thing - I just hide it all - how can I tell him I have ruined us?
11. My kids think I am a joke - my kids just laugh at me and when I got the diagnosis they said oh we are not surprised. They think I am silly and flighty and flaky.
12. Friendships - ruined - out of sight and out of mind right?
13. There are so many more big and little things . . .I can't even think of them.
14. EDIT: (Added this here instead of as a comment) Want to know how many friends have said "oh really adhd? I am sure it is just menopause". I wanted to be open about the diagnosis, thought that if you talk about it helps to normalise it, but I guess I will just keep it to myself now. Like seriously - menopause just makes me want to drive off a cliff - totally different :/
15. Getting yelled at as a kid - all. fecking. time. teachers, coaches, parents, aunties, uncles. never listened. hahahah. Was too dreamy, lost in space, terrible memory the list goes on and on.
16. Emotions - goddamn. The tears, the frustration, the inability to keep control of my emotions just spiralling . . .the hellscape of containing it all in if I can or at least waiting until I get to the car.
17. Obsessions - I get weirdly obsessed about people for a while and then it passes. Nothing scary, but it is like all I can think about. A TV show, a movie, a book, a hobby - all the time and money wasted on nonsense. jesus fecking christ.
18. House chaos - do you know we have three lamps in our house that have no shade on them because the cats shredded them. So guess what I do? I obsessively search and search for new shades or new lamps (I have done this 8 times and counting) and then never buy anything because - wait for it - I can't decide. I also get stressed about the money to be spent. So we have lived with bare bulb lamps - for 4 FUCKING YEARS!! WHO THE FUCK DOES THIS??!!

I wish I could say that having the diagnosis has made things better. In some ways it has - the meds mean I can work like a dog, but I realise now I can still get sidetracked and then the exhaustion is worse. I am angry and sad and frustrated. I was told my whole life I had so much potential and that I had wasted it all. And it looks like I have. My kid has a diagnosis now as well - and I thought it would help bond us a bit - but he is angrier and more distant now too.
FML.

"Happiness comes from a perception of life. Life is a pursuit of singular moments, experiences and sacrifices. It is the limitations of this perception that make those moments possible. For such a limitation a sacrifice must be made, a sacrifice towards a perception of death."
Raanu was the boy who read these words out-loud to his mom and dad. He was in the hospital bed when he read aloud the last speech bubble in his comic book stack. He had read the entire series of Silver Swordsman, knew every adventure as though they were his own. His parents had denied him comic books, especially violent and strange ones like Silver Swordsman. They didn't understand the giant robots and mutants and suicidal immortals of the future. It was all very frightening and disturbing content and they had not let him have such stories.
That had changed when they discovered he had a rare malignancy in his heart that would result in his death within months. Raanu was not afraid. He told his parents that since he was going to die it would make sense to let him read comic books, even Silver Swordsman. In fact, it was the Silver Swordsman comics he was most interested in.
The stories began with the boy Raanu sitting by the water with his friend: a giant robot named Unit Three-Sixteen. Raanu was the youngest human on the planet, or one of the youngest. In the future everyone lived forever and it was rare for new people to be born. New people, children, were especially interesting and cared for by the other immortals. Thus, in a world attended by some mere hundreds of giant robots with super powers, Raanu was accompanied by his very own, personal giant robot.
He asked the robot about things like war and death, things that had become obsolete before the advent of the giant robots. In all of its wisdom it could do no more than define such things. Then people came to where Raanu and the giant robot were sitting. Across the water was a temple that controlled the flow of energy in their world. Energy generated by human emotions. As long as the world had existed in tranquility and harmony there was no pain or suffering of any kind.
Raanu and his giant robot watched as the people went into the temple and used its power to obliterate themselves. The lethean energies flowed outward and corrupted the giant robots. Only Unit Three-Sixteen was unaffected, because of its exact proximity when it all started. Unit Three-Sixteen was hit the hardest with the blast of awful energy and was knocked out by it and left with its emotitronics intact, more-or-less. The others of its race did not fare so well. The other empathicals rampaged and the horror escalated as they fed on the new and horrible energy from the humans.
It was Raanu who stood up to the machines and he died a hero. His sacrifice and courage activated Unit Three-Sixteen. The surviving humans made a weapon for the last of their defenders. Thus it became Silver Swordsman, as it did what had to be done. Of the entire giant race, only one remained, for that one had killed all of its own kind in defense of the humans. And for its efforts it became a symbol of oppression and destruction, as it now stood in place of all of its kind.
That was just the first issue of Silver Swordsman. His parents had originally confiscated it and forbade him to read any more. He was an obedient child and did not defy his mother or father. Even when his thoughts made him daydream of the story, he wished away his imaginings, and focused on schoolwork.
At night when his parents left the hospital he would lay awake and thank God he was dying. He no longer had to eat his vegetables, he no longer had to do any schoolwork and he got to read all of the Silver Swordsman comics. His parents hated the books he was reading but he loved them and so they allowed it.
As he dreamed: he went to the places he had seen in the stories. So vivid and full of color and detail. The amount of adventure and action was almost overwhelming. There were many passages with strange ideas in them, the thoughts and musings of the characters, so that he often had to ask his father what was meant.
At first, his father was very guarded about speculating on the meaning of the aggregate of concepts that the books frequently struggled with. Characters had very strange ideas about death, gratitude, love, time, regret, courage, justice, perseverance, immortality, healing, warfare and truth. In short, the heroes rejected the common understanding of all of these things and replaced them with strange new definitions.
Raanu's father, Mukherjee, was a philosophical man. On one hand he put his business first so that he could provide for his family. Otherwise, Mukherjee valued wisdom and understanding and was willing to ruminate to discover the truth about something.
He paid attention to his son's understanding of the characters and their world. In the context of the stories, everything they believed made perfect sense. To his son the characters appealed for a more careful perception of one's own life. To enter the world of Silver Swordsman was to realize that life is so precious and that the struggle to survive is what appraises the value of one's life.
After one hundred and thirty one issues the series ended. It ended with the last humans standing on the precipice of the universe in the path of an implacable force. Death was certain for the characters and Silver Swordsman. They had battled all throughout the stories against increasingly impossible adversaries. Then, as the quest neared completion, it was certain that all would be obliterated anyway, in the end.
It was confusing and scary and disturbing. The entire comic book series was, in fact, quite depressing. One by one the heroes all fell against enemies that could not be defeated. Even Silver Swordsman could barely stand against the villains and was usually beaten down rather than victorious.
Mukherjee asked the man at the comic book store about Silver Swordsman comics. What he was told made it all the more frightening. The reason the comics had ended was because the lead writer was now deceased. He was diagnosed with a rare malignancy in his heart and he had walked out into a cold Christmas night and sat down in the frost to die. This was all known to the guy at the comic book store, yet the comics themselves held a unique status among fans.
Silver Swordsman comics were already rare at the time they were published. Mukherjee had to pay a small fortune for the whole series. The comic book guy had asked him why he was so interested. He explained that these comics were an oddity. They were extremely violent and creepy and filled with strange ideas about how people should perceive their lives. Mukherjee looked at him and asked:
"Is all of that different from other comic books?" He asked.
"The opposite of other comic books. Of fiction, in-general, sir." The comic book guy explained carefully. "Comic books should make you happy, laugh, thrilled and make you want more. Silver Swordsman, isn't it just this guy's weird ideas? It deals heavily with suicide and he actually killed himself. I wouldn't let my kids read this stuff, I don't even want to read this stuff."
"My son is reading these books." Mukherjee said soberly. "They make him happy."
To this the man decided to respond professionally and to make no further comments. Another man in the comic book store walked over with Wonder Woman Volume Three. He knew Mukherjee's family and said:
"That man's son is Raanu and he is dying." The friend of Mukherjee said.
"Everyone who reads Silver Swordsman finds some personal connection to it." The comic book guy recalled.
The snow was falling outside his hospital window. Raanu sighed and opened issue seventy-one. There was something he wanted to check on. He had noticed that the darkness, named Umbraeon, was already creeping across the sky in the background before Svetlana waded into the Pool Of Time. This meant that there was more to Umbraeon's arrival. Raanu had suspected that Umbraeon was always growing before anyone had noticed. He had thought that in some silent and hidden corner of the story: the most terrifying and formidable opponent of-all was growing all-along.
Encouraged to search for more clues he did so. He discovered that in some panels the characters seemed to be speaking directly to him. He read those ones with greater care. They were instructing him to do as they did, to seek the places where the silence had taken form, to find and annihilate the shadows where they were growing like a cancer. His eyes widened as he realized and said out-loud:
"It's real."
And he grinned. In these stories, death was no more powerful than lies or pain, had no more authority than gratitude or justice. In the world of Silver Swordsman, death was an idea, an illusion. If the stories were all true then that meant that they were right about death. Which meant he need not die in vain.
Mukherjee saw that his son had not slept. While his wife had gone to get lunch he asked his son:
"Have the comics kept you awake?" He asked patiently.
"Yes, father!" Raanu said excitedly. "The comics are real! The stories are all true!"
"No." Mukherjee said. "They were written by a man who was sick. The truth of those stories is all sickness."
"Who is he father? Is he sick like me?" Raanu asked.
"He got sick just like you. He chose to let himself die. I am afraid of what his words are doing to you." Mukherjee was honest with his son.
"His words have taught me that death is not worth fearing. That it is more important to embrace the moment of life. He has taught me that when it ends, all that matters is what we left behind, what we did to make the world better while we were here. That it is evil to live a life of self-indulgence. That it was such an evil that will destroy the world if we do not change our ways. When I read these stories, father, it is like a mirror. It is like it is with you, talking to my own father about life and death, about stories and truth." Raanu explained without hesitation. He had learned much from the books. Mukherjee's fears were slaughtered by the shining sword of his son's beautiful words. The father began to cry in front of his son and then he apologized.
Of all the monsters and villains in the stories only one could be held responsible like a father. Svetlana's long lost father Arvil. He was a very important villain because he had promoted ignorance of both his family and his people. He was not a singular villain but rather the sum of his society. He was a famous poet and it was he that had started the group of people that had killed themselves and sparked the end of their world.
Raanu told his own father just how much he loved and appreciated him. He knew that his own father was the opposite of the character he had in mind. Mukherjee was the enemy of ignorance and he would do anything to protect his family or save his people. The boy wished that somehow his own father's face would appear in the stories to somehow guide the last surviving heroes and Silver Swordsman to a happier destiny. Maybe in the end they could save the universe from ultimate destruction. Raanu knew that is not how the story was supposed to end, but looking at his own father it felt possible.
A month later it was Christmas and a sort of darkness stood like a black hole in the sky. The street lights flickered and the trees twisted off the snow and wandered in search of robots to devour. Marauders shed their humanity to steal immortality and feathered dragons tore the snow filled skies. In a fever he could only recall his favorite moments, grinning and laughing. He would turn and tighten only to see his mom and dad watching and he would relax and smile for them.
It was snowing on Christmas night after his parents left. Raanu had grown very weak, but his unfading smile bore his parents to their rest. Silver Swordsman stood in terrible vigil over the boy like an angel.
"When it is time...to the Temple take me." Raanu told Silver Swordsman. "I must set things right in your world. I have a job to do there."
"I know, my boy. It is almost time." Silver Swordsman towered over him in the hospital room: time and space becoming less relevant with each passing moment. The whole place seemed to stretch to fit the giant robot and the snow was swirling everywhere, inside and out.
Then a kind of silence, a sort of stillness seemed to be holding it all as a snowglobe. There in his hospital bed lay his remains. He looked at them, at the stack of comics next to his body. Then he turned and saw that the wall was as though he were looking up out of water at a blue sky. He went into this, and the light left the room behind, and went with him, and it was him, he was the light.
He sat looking at his reflection in the still waters he had gone through to be here. The ground was level in all directions and the great Temple Of Humanity stood across from him where he sat at the Pool Of Time. Beside him was the giant robot Unit Three-Sixteen.
"I knew that this would happen. As soon as I died I came here. This is where I am supposed to be. I was just there to know why." Raanu stood up and proclaimed.
"Died?" Unit Three-Sixteen asked.
"That's right, you don't know anything about death yet." Raanu puzzled out-loud. He suddenly realized he was in issue number one of Silver Swordsman, the absolute beginning of everything. With a worried look he glanced over and saw that the Cyclists were coming. It wasn't too late to put a stop to everything bad that was going to happen.
"Those people plan to die inside the Temple Of Humanity. They will release a lot of negative anima at once. It will be the end of GAIA. The world will know nothing more than hunger and suffering and you will be the last of your kind." Raanu told Unit Three-Sixteen frantically.
"I can feel your fear, Raanu. What do I do?" Unit Three-Sixteen worried. It knew something was dreadfully wrong with the scene.
"Get me to them, quickly!" Raanu commanded. The giant robot obeyed him and lifted him to its shoulder and strode to the Temple Of Humanity. Raanu was placed on the path of the Cyclists to confront them.
"You should not be here, Raanu. You are just a child, you cannot understand." Arvil told the boy. He and the rest of the first wave of Cyclists stood in robes of patterns in black and white and many wore comedy or tragedy masks of opposing shades.
"I understand exactly what you are about to do. I've seen what happens, the world ends because of you. People hate you after this." Raanu pointed at them each.
"You don't know what it is like to live the way we have, for so long. It becomes meaningless. We need this, we need a final experience." Shatia spoke up in her high voice. She took off her mask and beheld her descendant. Like a little prince, she mused.
"What you are doing will destroy the world. I have had this final experience already. It only taught me that we are all meant for more, meant to do more, say more and feel more than we do. We live in ignorance, forging our own darkness and our own silence. You have made a death for yourselves in your minds and now you intend to inflict it on everyone." Raanu, like his father, could say the truth to someone without cowardice.
"How? How can you stand there and stop us?" Arvil felt his ancient resolve weakening. As a poet, it broke his heart to hear the plain truth. It was like a gleaming sword, cutting through the nonsense that he and his followers had invented.
"I will die over and over again, it seems, until this moment is dragged out into the light of day. There is a darkness behind every panel, a silence behind every period and a shadow over everyone's head. I know, I went back and read it all again to be sure. It was here all-along. It started at the very beginning with the very shadows you are casting now. By the end, only enough light is left in all the universe for one of the last people to say one last thing. Then it all goes to darkness and death, forever." Raanu recalled vividly.
"You would have us turn back. Go back to unending misery?" Shatia asked her great-nephew. She was one of the youngest among the Cyclists.
"Both are choices. One of these choices, I have explained, is a path that will start with your deaths and never end until the whole universe is dead." Raanu nodded.
"We have a right to die." Arvil protested.
"Svetlana meets you in the future, in the past before this happens, but she never finds out why you wrote Argosy, your most famous poem." Raanu was not afraid of Arvil's cowardice. He knew the man better than he knew himself.
Arvil willingly recited his poem to avoid the explanation:
"See now this plain of spoil,
Where cowed all Mans' toil,
To sit bemused without,
Thoughts belabored in drought,
So forth she clings to East,
Or North she turns to least,
But never strays her heart,
Not fallen since the start,
And plants her seed of truth,
The sun rises as proof,
Sacred words she has kept,
How the mighty have wept."
"So what does it mean? This?" Raanu tried not to smile when he saw he had broken the character Arvil. Arvil fell to his knees as he realized he had become the enemy of his own truth. It had not occurred to him until he was confronted with the truth laid bare and obvious. There was no shadow to hide his feelings within. Death would never be an escape from his self loathing, it would only be the proof of it. He himself became the mighty one weeping at the end.
"What have I done?" He tore off his robes and flung them away. He turned on his followers and screamed a damnation upon them for standing behind him. He walked through them and left them there. Without him, many of them did the same. Some left with their masks still on, unwilling to reveal who they were.
Raanu stood there alone with his giant robot. The Temple Of Humanity was operating at low power and the surge of excitement from the boy made the empathicals all around the world stand up and chuckle happily. The giant robots were genius artisans and sculptors and architects that had sat in boredom and decline for too long. Renewal lit them up with vitality and inspiration.
Overcome with a sense of purpose and triumph: he laughed.

​
Most importantly: the casting of Ariel obviously is the biggest problem with the production. And everybody can plainly see that, but not anybody is allowed to just say it, because of absurd and oppressive accusations and arguments, for example -
"Mermaids are mythological, they don't have a race, who cares if she is black now, you racists."
Spongebob Squarepants is not even half-human, yet if they suddenly painted him blue, everybody would obviously dissociate. Not because folks are prejudiced against blue, but because Spongebob would look like a freaking alien to us.
We're very, very obviously not talking about "mermaid representation" and "being historically accurate," you morons, we're talking specifically about Ariel, a specifically established character in a specifically established story stamped in time as a classic. It's not race, it's basic association: red hair, floppy bangs, blue eyes, fair skin, green tail, period.
The only person talking about race is you, the person calling folks racist.
"Representation for blacks matters, stop being salty."
But you just yelled about how 'mermaids were mythological and that the element of race was not only irrelevant but an entirely stupid thing to associate with the character'...? So what is this angle supposed to be if not hypocritical? If her race does in fact matter, mythological or not, because representation does in fact matter, then that would mean it absolutely does in fact matter that you changed her race to begin with.
"Halle IS Ariel, she was born to play this role."
The number one and only prerequisite to meet while emulating a freaking cartoon character is the appearance. And everybody knows it, stop trying to triggegaslight innocent, unsuspecting audiences everywhere. Everything else is performance, wardrobe, direction, script, etc. Like what if I told you "Denzel Washington was born to play Johnny Bravo because he can do the voice well-ish enough"...? Would you be able to take me seriously? No? How about if I accused you of a hate crime?
"Nobody complained about Jasmine or Belle looking different!"
Are you stupid...? For one, they didn't look all that different.
a. Jasmine matched more or less the same as her cartoon counterpart, in appearance and in energy, only she was prettier and like barely one shade lighter; what's more, that was a fantastic singer and actress: and even so, YESSS, everybody complained, there was a collective Wilhelm fucking scream/race war until all of the idiots simmered the fuck down upon the revelation that the cartoon wasn't specifically Indian or Arabic or anything but a fictitious hodgepodge of both-ish loll and that the actress looked the part enough-ish, which didn't actually matter, because she wasn't even the star, Aladdin was, and they fucking NAILED him in recreation, NAILED him, and wasn't that so satisfying to witness as a viewer...? hm...?
b. Belle matched more or less the same as her cartoon counterpart- ONLY in skin and hair color and general cuteness or softness of face; she was a hideous dumpster fire compared to the cartoon, in appearance and in energy, and she was a horrific actress and singer; and yes, people complained like crazy... and no matter how hard they did and always will, it will actually still never be enough. She sucked for that role as much as this new girl does for Ariel.
But yeah: none of these bitches looked much different from their cartoon versions. What they did to Ariel is like... if you made the cookie monster pink and instead of cookies, he was into cupcakes.
"The bad reviews are coming from one source: racists."
No, you're the racist for saying so though. And a manipulative fucking asshole.
"You all . . ."
"You all" nothing, because I am not white, I am not a blue-eyed Danish redhead, many of us having this fit are not and have zero cultural or physical identification to Ariel. I am not defending myself and/or my people through Ariel, you're the only one doing that here, that is exactly why it is so impossible to get through to you with objective ass points lol. I am not racist against you and/or your people using Ariel as the tool to unleash my hidden racism demons, get it the fuck together you asshole, wtf. This is "personal" to me, only insofar as it toys with my childhood memories and it reminds me of my disdain for disney, the media, politics, and the way the idiot masses are so easily pit against each other through their transparent, haphazard, lazy brands of manipulation and insulting pseudo-representation. "You all" nothing when I'm trying to say "We all," wtf is the problem. These remakes mortify all of humanity, just let me say it. It's "BLM' all over again, when one time I accidentally said "ALM" because I wasn't up to speed yet and didn't know it was a patented hate crime, and I was nearly trampled to death for it. yet my neighbor who posted a black box on instagram was being paraded on society's shoulders as the second coming of MLK jr. like What the fuck kind of role am I supposed to play, can I just be myself and have people just figure I'm not a freaking psychopath or not? Can I just make honest observations without people assuming my stance has shit to do with my own race, gender, or anything personal? This shit is sick people. If you think it is wrong to change the race of established characters in reanimation, then that should apply to all races, all ways, otherwise, you are kinda racist, and/or if you think media representation is insanely important, then you should be fixated on creating original representation, at the very least, not using another culture's or thanking and defending the company that is actually using you for their representation. And if you think I am racist for fucking saying this, you have mental problems. That's it.
​
~.~.~
​
And then of course this girl is an abusive fucking bitch.
For example-
Halle and Disney:
"black mermaaaid! extry, extry! come get your black mermaid!! that's right, look at my skin color, you racists, look at all of these freaking racists and their backlash! all they see is color-> i'm BLACK! so let's talk about how important ariel's dreadlocks are to MY story in 15 interviews, and let's also talk about black girls who can now look up to me because i'm black! but it's not about race you guys! but like remember to go back to seeing in color again in time for when The Color Purple hits theaters too because i actually am being black in that one so don't mix them up okay? anyway: BLACK!"
Innocuous Interviewer Along the Way:
"so, black mermaid, you say?! how beautiful! cool! gorgeous voice! ariel incarnate! shining star, world peace, god bless you!"
Halle and Disney:
"WhaT?! how dare you see my skin color and say my skin color? cancel all racists! who told you i'm black!? who told you to notice and care?! i'm so oppressed you guys, look what i ~\endure*~ see this is exactly what i've been talking about during marketing since 2020 :( i'm black :( stop saying it though :( only me say it +* you see it, but no reminding me :( so racist :( okay anyway, as i was saying, mermaid dreadlocks are really important for my people, this is our roots, and i wish white people would stop complaining that my hair looks and acts different from that white girl's in their own culture's dumb culture-less original. mermaids are not real and neither is white culture, okay, everybody knows that, there's no such thing. they're being racist."
​
It's like, bitch:
- The Little Mermaid is fucking Nordic- Denmark, you asshole. Hence her physical features in the cartoon. The greatest deviation from that in the cartoon is that Eric's seaside looks more Mediterranean, which is fine because we were still being generally whitey-European- and we had a Jamaican crab for fucking flair. We weren't running off to the Caribbeans (?) of some Victorian 18th century (?) where a black female ruler somehow existed (?) in some insanely prosperous, productive Utopian royal-yet-peasanty bubble island (?) and adopted some *actually* danish-esque shipwrecked bastard who floated there on a raft (?) for the first of many times in his life now apparently made purely of milestones marked by what ship wrecked him at what age (?) and is now to be white king of this highly exclusively black village-empire-colony-dynasty (?) only if he can get past this millennial helicopter parent of a matriarch-monarch because that's her only order of business in all the land (?).
Like, you do understand how much this is not even *your* or anybody's representation, right...? You stole from a realer narrative to pedal your flimsy fake one while shouting at "white people" that "mermaids are mythological so nothing about anything matters except getting blacks on TV"...?
- And also hence her fucking name, Ariel a spirit of the air, or of the North/Nord; and hence the fucking meaning of the name a light or a lion of god, as in her light skin and/or her fiery red hair. NO, "lion king" and/or an untamed orange mane is not the fucking association, and even if it were, you already played in The Lion King! Remember?! You and Beyonce fucked that one up like five minutes ago! Give it a fucking rest get the fuck out of here you parasitic supremacist.
Fucking nobody even cared about your race in the first place,
the masses mostly cared about the basic associative image of the basic ass drawing done thirty years ago and has thus obviously just naturally cemented itself as an intensely nostalgic icon.
You brought race into this, so then FINE:
EVEN on the level of your racially charged and biased freaking playing field:
you're still the only one in this equation who is a flagrant fucking racist, because YES actually, this icon most definitely is already rooted in a specific culture's set of creations and unique representation,
and we didn't even see it that way or think of it like that,
until you fucking forced us down here to witness your ridiculous claims!
You forced a whole category of demographics to go up in arms to have to defend themselves as well as a whole established culture there when you literally:
a. claimed racial ownership of their classic,
b. insisted "white people have no culture,"
c. insisted the "color of the mermaid didn't matter,"
d. insisted the "color of the mermaid being black though did matter,"
e. labeled folks who saw this paradox "racist" without a second thought,
d. and then psychologically/verbally attacked/alienated everyone based on your:
i. inflamed entitlement,
ii. shameless ignorance,
iii. false empowerment,
iv. capacity to be so easily manipulated by disney,
v. and blind racism. like against everybody.
Literally, from start to end of this weird conquest of yours.
​
Leave fucking classics alone!
If you switch them up just to float your own culture's propaganda,
I am going to make fun of you and your culture, lol,
And I am going to enjoy it, and I am not even a racist,
And doing so wouldn't make me a racist.
As I said, it would make you the racist.
Because wtf are you doing repainting narratives and characters.
​
Don't dangle irrelevant shit in people's faces,
Otherwise people are going to mock your irrelevance.
That's it.
Your culture's not stupid,
But you look stupid right now here in this doing this shit.
And yes, it's funny and it's fun to laugh.
What else is there to even do?
You replaced all the actual entertainment value with this shit lol.
THIS is the entertainment I've extracted from it thus,
This, writing this, hating you, is fucking fun,
More fun than digesting your product, whose fault is that?
Be grateful I'm still this engaged and part of it.
This is still a great contribution to your stupid agenda thing.
You're welcome, as usual.
But it's not more fun than just enjoying things labeled as
"Your personal favorite childhood memories,"
in this case to me, "The Little Mermaid,"
so fucking quit it.
This was me coping, and good on me for making a tragedy fun,
But let's not exploit this valve that is my soul lol.
​
Now please go ahead and collect your freaking ethnicities, all of you, every last fucking culture out here, and leave the plot of all of our already established films alone.
(yeah Aladdin Remake, i'm also talking to you, and you hang back after class, because i have another lecture for you specifically)
​
Create new films for representation if that's what you want!
Don't infiltrate the homes of unsuspecting families just trying to eat popcorn and fart and laugh at their old favorite hits together.
​
THIS was the first era in my life where I was unable to post a FILM review onto Google Reviews, Rotten Tomatoes, and Reddit for a film. That's all I've been doing for like a decade lol, all of a sudden: CENSORED. And this was the first era in my life where I MADE DAMN SURE not to use curse words or ANY kind of term or even fucking tone that might be anything darker than neutral. I mean... all of this pent up frustration now, and guess who I am going to take it out on? The face of this entire debacle: that black girl and that white film director.
THIS was a serious moment where multiple credited sites like imdb and rotten tomatoes "updated" their "rating formats" and openly filtered/cherry-picked top reviews repeatedly like fighting against currents despite how aware the people have been of it. That is so fucking unsettling.
And they are doing this claiming it's because "all these black-hating racists keep review-bombing"
WHILE the number one movie on our planet right now is about a black spider-man lmao, yes, a literally equally black-washed white fictitious character-- during the same era where the WHITE spiderman has a black MJ, to boot.
See? Nobody cares. If anything, everybody's in love.
And this black mermaid movie is actually number two, at least in america, so great, wonderful, people sincerely gave fucks enough like all this to go watch it! Plus, this singer, along with actress Zendaya for example, are like reigning supreme over their entire generation as we all applaud genuinely and throw roses, so like just mother fucking shut the fuck up already. what white movies are even out!? Fast and Furious part 600 is all people of color and that was number one for like a month before all this, what racism? where racism? how, when, who, what the fuck. Nobody is review-bombing a fucking thing, this remake just happens to suck really hard, the girl happens to be a horrible actress and a very evidently, observably miscast dullard, especially because that one singular image of that one cartoon character was not to be tampered with, plus too many people are insulted by the whole pandering thing.
The End.
​
So my review of this freaking sham is therefore:
I believe this moment in history will be taught in history classes to display an era where an entire culture was racist without even knowing it, whilst accusing itself of being racist in a whole other way for a whole other reason allegedly concerning the miscasting of a mermaid cartoon, almost as if consciously to distract itself from understanding how inherently racist it itself just fucking was; during this chaos of utter confusion, obviously puppeteered by the media, the media took further advantage by pitting these idiots all against each other to make money for their new cartoon film and/or continue laundering blood money as they do through the clogged vessel that is Hollywood, as well as you know, harvest the globe of their hateful, confused, stressed-for-no-fucking-reason energy, vampires that they are, ensuring humanity at large is just replaying the same thirty-odd years on loop on loop over and over unto infinity in a downward spiral toward hell for these demons to continue leeching off us until, I don't know, God decides to do shit about it and set us all free.

Animal instincts. I’m talking about everything from hunger to sexual desire to the sensual enjoyment of finding shade on a warm day to the satisfying sensation of general exertion in a relatively healthy body. Oh, and our species’ general need for violence (which we often replace with sports).
I strongly suspect that these things will not be included in an AIs understanding of a complete human experience before we give AI some major power over our lives, and that some incompetence in their guidance is to be expected on a level many of us won’t be able to easily articulate at the time.
But much more alarmingly I strongly believe that people will merge with AI in such a hasty and non-holistic way that they’ll inadvertently purge these animal instincts from their very beings.
They’ll call it “evolving” of course and insist that it’s no problem, but human psychology incorporates these things to such a degree that purging them can only result in a strangely dysfunctional intelligence whose priorities are consistently unhealthy.
So I guess what I’m saying is that when immortality via brain upload comes along, don’t go for v1.0. It’s gonna be messy for a lot of people before we learn via disaster that we don’t actually have humans totally figured out yet.

[First] - [Previous] - [[Next]]
New Terran Refugee (Pt - 20) : An NOP fanfic
Thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for letting people write fanfics.
This is just a fanfic of course.
This chapter went through several iterations, I might have let myself think I could release it 1 week late (and failed). Also, I might have gotten sidetracked with other non-writing thing, oops.
TL;DR:
“OOPS! All Rewrites! And side projects!” – Me
In any case, here’s the chapter:
Memory transcription subject: Tayla, Venlil Widow
Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136
The first thing I became aware of was that I had awoken enveloping a richly warm pillow with a soft surface from above, and that not only was it hot but that it was also soft and squishy but without too much give, in fact it was somehow firmer below the surface, I snuggled closer to the material that was emanating heat below me and drove off my mind’s attempts at waking me up, this was too blissful an experience to stop suddenly.
The second thing I became aware of was that I didn’t remember replacing my heated pillow as the cold wind season was still expected to be a good deal of time away and that I had much more important things to spend my limited budget on.
The third thing I became aware of was that I wasn’t hugging a pillow, this only happened when I noticed that it wasn’t moving because I was snuggling into it, but rather moving in a steady motion against me, like when someone breathes while asleep.
The fourth thing I became aware of, were the memories of what led me into this situation ‘Just gonna close my eyes for a moment’; Why did I lie to myself like that?
The final thing I became aware of snapped me out of my musings, it was the reason I woke up, and the reason I had crashed so hard into sleepiness.
The consequence of drinking copious amounts of [shade root] tea to keep watch over Jorge until I could call the number in the email during the schedule it had included beneath itself, this was made worse by the cans of ‘Twilight Energy’ I had drank at the end when more drastic measures had to be taken.
I couldn’t ignore it I couldn’t help but feel the pressure mounting inside my bladder as I peeled myself off from on top of Jorge. Why did I move so much while asleep?
Oh Protector, I missed his warmth already…
I made a mental note to look into repairing my heated pillow for cheap due to a sudden urge to sleep with something warm more frequently, the abrupt thought jogging loose some memories about contact information of some local repairvenlil I’d called before for one reason or another, along with the memory of the number I called before… napping with Jorge…
A great feeling of chagrin manifested along with my bloom while closing Jorge’s bathroom door behind me as I remembered the text beneath the schedule, ‘Extended working hours during emergency situations’, the aftermath of antimatter bombing definitely applied… especially since that Mrs. Bennet sounded so exhausted so soon after the supposed start of her work claw.
I decided to chalk up my lapse in judgement to have been due to how Jorge’s expression before he sealed himself in had left my thoughts racing and heart pounding in worry over him.
With my thoughts somewhat settled, I examined the strange toilet that had been installed, before throwing caution to the winds when the urgency I felt reasserted itself with force.
…
After closing the lid and washing my paws, I finally found what had to be the equivalent of the pulley and chain, a small, recessed button parted into 2 asymmetric parts on the top middle part behind the seat.
I pressed both parts at the same time just in case.
FWOOOSH
A small eep escaped me but was drowned out by the noises that were still coming from the strange toilet!
Finally, the ruckus ended, letting me calm down from the unexpected loudness. Wait, did that noise wak-
THUNK THUNK THUNK
A bigger eep escaped me as I jumped a little into the air; However this time it wasn’t drowned out by another noise.
“¿you ok in there?” I could barely make out Jorge’s voice through the door, like he was putting in the barest effort needed to speak.
“Y-yeah, j-just startled…” I opened the door as I trailed off, a sudden realization had me asking him a question, “I guess I know how It felt w-when I s-startled you h-huh?”
His normally expressive face remained still, the only reaction to my attempt at lightening the mood a brief exhale from his nose; He simply slipped past me as I left the bathroom and muttered something I didn’t quite hear just before shutting the door softly.
I went back to the bed and turned on his pad, after a few seconds of waiting for it to turn on, and a few more waiting for my translator to parse the strange [date and time] format the humans used (Honestly, who separated the [hours] and the [days/months] like that?) I felt a bit of relief as I sank a bit into the still warm bed.
According to the pad, I’d just taken a short nap, I still had plenty of time until my children came back home, hopefully I had enough time to actually have some kind of talk with Jorge.
I’d have to somehow get him to talk about last Paw’s… reaction of his, and find a way to convince him to talk about his family, It’d be good for him to recognize that pain, maybe he’d even hold onto it like me…
^FWOOOSH
That thing that the humans called a toilet interrupted my train of thought before I could do more than think of the barest of ways I could breeze into such heavy topics, the small delay between the toilet’s sound, the groaning of water travelling to the faucet, and the door opening wasn’t even enough to get back on my mind’s [zephyr].
A quick focus on Jorge’s face made my determination start to breeze away a bit, it was much easier to think of how to talk to him when I couldn’t see just how heavily everything [to wear down like a long strong gale would] on him.
Jorge deflated slightly but visibly at how I apparently froze up at the sight of him.
“well, thanks, i… feel better, you can just… leave me be for now”
Jorge stood still, averting his eyes from me until he shrugged strangely after turning to look at the barricade, he then shuffled over and started to shift it to the side a bit, evidently wishing to put it back in place after I left.
“ah” he cleared his throat, “sorry, you can leave now” he returned to averting his eyes from looking at me and awkwardly motioned towards the wide opening he had made after dragging the barricade as he stepped away morosely.
“Jorge.” I paused to breathe; I’d managed to huff out his name just as I needed to exhale.
Jorge stood still for a moment before tentatively focusing on me, a strangely vulnerable expression sat on his face.
I patted the bed (an appropriate and proper distance away from me) with my tail before curling it away from the spot, he seemed to get the message and soon he had sat down beside me, brief moment of hesitation notwithstanding.
I turned my head towards him as I’d seen him do when talking, he flinched a little when his eyes met mine, closing them and averting his face, I reached out for his nearby claw with my tail and put it down gently on top.
I waited patiently for him to start talking; Thankfully the wait was short.
“this… ¿is this about… my reaction yesterday?”
“Yes,” I squeezed down on his claw softly with my tail in a comforting gesture, “I wanted to speak with you about that sooner, but for now…” another gentle squeeze, “I’m just glad you seem to be doing a little bit better.”
Silence enveloped us as Jorge seemed to mull over what I’d just said.
A small hint of a hunch had me examining him more closely, it seemed he was anxiously waiting for me to talk some more.
I chastised myself internally, ‘Of course he wasn’t going to be feeling very talkative…’, how could someone jump straight into talking about such a topic? It’d probably be better to start with other stuff and gauge things from there; With that my mind sifted through possible topics until one stood out.
“S-so, I kind of… used up a lot of your powdered ingredients… heh…” I took in his features, he seemed halfway here and halfway far away.
Maybe… Maybe if I somehow mentioned the call to remind him that there were more humans he could try talking to? Just in case he was getting tired of my clumsy attempts at talking with him…
“I, uh, didn’t think of asking Mrs. Bennet about their availability when I called her this Paw, s-sorry about that… b-but I’m sure they’ll get some more that you can use soon, right?”
That got a reaction, a small one, out of him; His eyes widened. It… felt wrong.
“o-oh, well, i’d better get started packing then…”
An impossibly heavy weight settled deep inside my stomach as he moved his claw out from under my frozen tail tip, my throat clenched up as Jorge got up and limply started wading to his bag.
I stared in mute horror as he dumped his clean body coverings into it, trying to communicate anything to him, and failing miserably as the sheer disbelief of just how horribly I had miscommunicated kept me frozen, while the pain and betrayal I could imagine him feeling kept my mind reeling.
He stopped just as he reached his bag, his claws clenched for a moment before he unclenched them slowly and turned around to look directly at me.
He’d shed more tears, his eyes were an ugly and fresher shade of red.
“y-you were waiting down here for me to wake up again just to have this conversation as soon as possible. ¿am i right?”
Th-this wasn’t supposed to go like this!
“I… I was-”
“I!” interrupted Jorge with an elevated tone of voice, “…Earlier, I woke up and went back to sleep a few times, I could see you sitting on the stairs, sometimes you and your pad would be missing, I kept thinking that maybe you were worried about me ¿you know?”
“I-” An intense look from him kept the rest of my response in my head; ‘I was!’ I wanted to plead.
“I guess you didn’t plan for me falling asleep after crying…” He trailed off and seemed to go into deep thought for a moment, before his eyes narrowed dangerously. “¿Did you just bring me that Atole to soften the blow?” He held up one of his claws towards me while making a stabbing motion with it, his voice came out as a much lower growl than normal from him. “¿Or was putting me to sleep part of the plan?”
My face felt as if I’d been hit by an icy gale. ‘Did he just insinua-?’
“You’re fucking heartless.” That last sentence from him was punctuated by a fresh set of tears from his eyes, though no sobbing came from him as he let himself fall backwards down onto the floor, like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut.
My heart was beating wildly, and my eyes stung from the horrible accusations that he was making, and from how I’d probably be doing just what he had said if this had happened a few days ago…
I gave myself a moment to recollect myself, I’d thought similar enough things when I was alone in the hospital after losing my family, not nearly as extreme but… my circumstances back then and his right now weren’t comparable.
I shuddered internally at how much worse I’d have fared if it had been Venlil Prime that had been attacked; I’d probably… I’d have tried to do what he tried last night…
With a sigh I focused consciously on Jorge, who was breathing a bit more steadily now, as I picked up the bottle and moved steadily towards his alert gaze.
I sat down in front of him and opened the bottle, he narrowed his eyes even further in response, making the redness and glistening more pronounced, the patches of fur above his eyes changed position as well; I didn’t quite know what it meant, but it couldn’t possibly have been from him feeling happy or at peace.
I pushed through the sense of fear that was starting to form from being under his stare and took in the rest of his body language… I readjusted my position and observed as he flinched away from me…
I slowly raised the bottle and drank; The patches of fur over his eyes returned to their normal position, overshot and stayed raised while the intensity of his stare diminished. Finally, he tilted his head ever so slightly.
After a few gulps more I stopped drinking and offered him the bottle, he still wasn’t accepting it; I wiped my lips and prepared to speak.
“…I wouldn’t do that to you…” A small quiver at the end made me trail off until I was certain my voice wouldn’t fail me. I wouldn’t do that now. “None of those things, I mean… Even after all I did… You gave me a chance…”
“When you put it like that…” Jorge wiped his eyes. “I mean, I don’t know what came over me…” He looked to the side and deflated a little.
“I understand… I was like this too…” A small shiver traveled through my spine, thinking about it always did… I ignored the shiver by standing up and offering him the bottle again, this time he grabbed it and drank deeply.
He trailed behind me, we sat down on opposite sides of the bed, him hugging his legs as he sat against the wall, and me with one leg over the edge of the bed with the other one crossed over it.
Dozens of starting points were flurrying in my head, I couldn’t decide on one, so I cleared my throat and let myself say whatever came out first.
“I’m married.” Jorge became extremely visibly confused. “I-I’m a Widow, I meant to say…” The familiar sting of pain grounded me as his expression changed into one I could recognize even from him, pity.
“He-” died “…It happened 11 years ago, I… I lost my family at the same time…”
Jorge’s expression softened even more, no longer out of pity, but out of understanding… of the pain we shared…
“It was my dad’s idea, he’s always wanted to have a big family homestead… when the latest batch of colonies were finally cleared for habitation he bought a plot immediately, my sister and her husband went with them first, then my brother and his wife, and finally me and…”
This whole talking thing was much harder than I thought… I cleared my throat; I couldn’t go on just omitting any names in my retelling…
“Krayla, that’s my mother’s name.” I paused, waiting for his reaction, he ‘nodded’ slowly, solemnly. “Tavk’io, my dad; Talnum, my b-brother; Tahyiya, m-my sister; …a-and Glim, m-my husband…”
I buried my head in my paws, this was too much…
A moment passed, I felt something brush against my tail; Opening my eyes I saw that it was Jorge’s claw, he patted the tip gently until his eyes met mine.
“Emiliano José Cauich Ayala, t-that’s my father’s name.” He paused to breathe and wiped his eyes. “Ixchel Paola Rojas Canul, that’s my mother’s name.”
We stayed in silence for a while longer, at least in my case recovering from the emotional toll that I had just gone through.
“S-shortly after we arrived at the colony,” I began. “I l-learned I was p-pregnant, G-Glim and I celebrated it with my family, we were going to name our baby after my brother and his wife, Kiyomi. It… It was something we had all come up with [years] before, everything was going just like we had dreamed and talked so much about…”
I squeezed my tail against myself, all those nights at the colony laughing and joking with each other about increasingly outlandish names (ones that we’d never use of course), gone just like that…
“G-Glim and Talnum were busy helping the colony expand by clearing new plots for development and as buffer zones, I helped around with Taylee and Talim when needed but I helped dad with the house most of the time; There were always things that needed to be taken care of after all. Th-then one day in the colony, I f-fainted while picking up Taylee and Talim from school, a f-few [weeks] after that… I had to be sent back here since the colony’s hospital had lost their last equipment shipment to an Arxur raid.” I paused and lowered my voice. “G-Glim stayed behind to take extra assignments, t-to cover expenses, h-he… he was… he was on his last pawful of shifts b-before leave wh-when…”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“…D-dad was at home looking after the kids, he’d sprained his leg while doing some maintenance, he called me early in the morning there, Talnum and Glim were in some kind of assignment together, and my mother had taken everyone else to get stuff from the market to prepare a farewell meal f-for Glim…” And after that… “The call disconnected abruptly, it had happened before so I… I j-joked to m-myself a-and the nurse that it was p-probably j-just the signal failing because I wasn’t there to maintain things p-properly…”
Tears started forming in my eyes again, Jorge shuffled closer, put his soft claw on my shoulder and gave a light squeeze, his warmth spread throughout me.
“…A few claws later I learnt the truth, that the colony had been raided and that the shelter had been breached, shortly after that, I… I lost my…” I did my best to look him directly in his eyes. “After that… I started planning how to get to the hospital’s roof…” There, a glint of recognition and pain in his eyes. “I was just waiting for the rescue fleet to finish up there, just in case, thankfully… my dad hid Taylee and Talim in one of the [Kitchen] cabinets after taking down the family pictures, since he couldn’t take them to the shelter, he… Taylee told me that he… he begged her to keep quiet before closing the cabinet. She stayed in there with Talim for I don’t even know how long… She… She hasn’t talked about it ever again.”
Another squeeze, then silence and cold as he retracted his claw back towards him, his face turning to another side while taking on some kind of thoughtful intensity.
“S-So… What I’ve been trying to say was… I kind of understand what you’re going through… A-and if you want to talk… I-I’m here?”
A small ‘nod’, and more silence. My eyes were beginning to feel heavy again, that nap hadn’t been enough it seemed.
Jorge harrumphed, causing a bolt of wakefulness to course through me as he began speaking, filling in the silence that had fallen on the room.
“…I don’t think I’m ready yet…” His face turned towards me once more. “But… thank you, for sharing, and for worrying about me, I… If you hadn’t been there when I drifted into and out of sleep…” His eyes widened in a flash. “Wait. ¿You haven’t slept right? ¿Are you feeling OK?”
“I-I t-took a nap after you f-fell asleep…” B-beneath him… “Y-you left a lot of space…” He did, but I couldn’t get to it from under his legs…
“Good, good…” His eyes flicked between me and the door. “Well… I suppose you’ve got stuff to do now. ¿Am I right?” Somehow, the expression that sat now on his face felt forced in a way. I kept quiet as I rummaged through my memories of The Aftermath.
Of course, he was trying to get me out to wallow in peace, just as I did…
That was the last thing he needed right now.
I needed to find a way to get him out of this room…
“Actually… I’m free until my kids get back, I’m used to taking care of chores quickly.”
“Right…” Jorge seemed to slowly steel himself, if I didn’t interrupt me, he’d just ask me to leave directly…
I tried to think faster, but the drowsiness was returning in force, it was no use… Unless…
“H-Hey!” My exclamation startled him, I pressed on to keep the momentum strong. “I uh, I kind of went through my whole supply of [shade root] tea to stay awake…” I didn’t. “And… I don’t really want to drink more energy drinks this Paw, I don’t suppose you have something to stay awake with you?”
Jorge blinked, again, once more, and again one last time before responding.
“¿I… think I have some coffee I could make?” He tilted his head adorably to one side as he scratched his head with one claw.
“Sounds perfect! Would you please make me some?” I stood up before he could even answer, reached for his idle claw and tugged at it towards me; He stood up in what seemed like a daze out of reflex.
We spent the next few [minutes] browsing the intact shelf, whatever this coffee was, it wasn’t there, the tentatively positive mood that had formed cracked a little as Jorge looked at the shelf barricade before he trudged over to it, stopping beside it where he gestured at vaguely with his claw.
We stepped past the barricade, tried not to look at each other, failed, shuffled in place for a moment and began sifting through the items strewn about the floor in an unspoken agreement.
It wasn’t long until I found myself holding a container that my translator insisted was labeled ‘Instant Coffee’. “Hey,” I started while turning, “is this the ri-” Jorge was looking intensely at something on the floor, I followed his gaze and saw it, the broken remains of the flame projector.
“J-Jorge?” I extended my tail cautiously towards his arm, his claws ceased to strain against themselves following the subtle flinch he had when the tip of my tail made contact with him.
I gave him the ‘Instant Coffee’ I was holding and scooped up the remains to dispose of them properly this time; Jorge held up the container and murmured an affirmation at me, I gestured for him to lead the way and proceeded to follow him to the [kitchen].
I raced my way directly to the trash container, separated the single-use fuel cannister from the remains I was holding, and dumped the inert bits inside; I’d have to take this last part to a proper disposal collection point in town some other time. For now, I glanced at Jorge and tucked it into a discreet spot in the cabinets when he wasn’t looking. Only after that did I notice what a mess I’d made up here despite my best efforts at cleaning up…
Jorge’s eyes were scanning all over the [kitchen], taking in every splotch, every spill and every crusted over utensil I’d used, he lingered noticeably longer on the open and haphazardly arranged containers of his that I had used, finally he stared at the Vanilla Extract bottle with a soft expression, it was the only container that had remained completely spotless and didn’t have a significant amount of its contents drained.
Yet another unreadable expression had settled on his face as he took a big pot and barely put any water in it, the other more reasonably sized ones just too dirty to deal with quickly, before putting it to boil on the [stove top].
“Uh…” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other a few times. “I… never did thank you for the drink earlier ¿Didn’t I?”
“N-no but there’s no ne-”
The patches of fur above his eyes furrowed together.
“You… mentioned before that you entered the program for money…” He looked confused. “¿Why didn’t you just… ask for me to be picked up? You’d have gotten someone else in no time… Hell, I’d still understand if you did it now. You don’t have to go through all this trouble for me.” The confused expression deepened as he gestured at the messy remains around us.
“…”
He was waiting for an answer.
“I… w-well I d-did enter for the money… b-but… I don’t want to just replace you… I like being around you. I d-don’t know if we’re there yet… But I’d like to be… f-friends! W-with you someday…” Oh Protector, I couldn’t be more obvious unless I just came out and said it…
“Well for what it’s worth… Thank you Tayla, you don’t know what that means to me right now.” He was looking directly at me, with raw emotion and palpable aliveness, my face started to feel as if I was standing under sunlight…
“I-It was the l-least I could d-do…” It was worth it even though he didn’t seem to understand quite what I accidentally meant before…
I was spared from further embarrassment by the pot of water sizzling violently behind Jorge who turned around in a blur to turn the heat off, while he did that I grabbed two (clean) mugs and set them down near him, though I didn’t move my paws quite fast enough as his claw brushed against me while he moved the mugs closer to him to pour the water on them.
He let the water cool down a little as he put his sugar and ‘Instant Coffee’ containers close to the mugs; He poured the less-than-boiling water into the mugs, stirred in a measure of ‘Instant Coffee’ and a measure of sugar as well.
He passed me a mug with a cryptic warning. “If it’s not to your taste, let me know.” Then he grabbed the other one, sipped a little and waited.
The mischievous glint in his eyes left me no choice, I’d have to play along for now; I raised the mug and sipped…
SPEH
WHY WAS EVERYTHING THESE HUMANS HAD SO BITTER?
I futilely attempted to remove the grimace from my face; Strangely, the roar of laughter I expected was nowhere to be heard, I found myself looking at Jorge with some amount of concern, though the clear, if understated, smile he sported calmed me down somewhat.
Wordlessly, Jorge reached for my mug and the can of powdered coconut milk, he then proceeded to mix in a little of it in both mugs, turning the liquid from a dark oily brown to a much lighter tone. Finally he mixed in a single drop of his Vanilla Extract in each mug and gave me back mine.
I gave him the best glare I could manage as I pouted at him, he took a deep drink from his own mug and held it up for me to examine.
With a sigh I tried mine again.
Warm. Flowery. Smooth. Bitter but not too much, like a perfectly harvested root. But most importantly of all, I could feel myself waking slightly more already, whether it was just self-suggestion or the drink having an effect so soon I couldn’t tell.
Once more, the reaction I expected from Jorge was missing, this time he seemed to be lost in thought, staring at a distant point in the air.
I took a moment to examine him, whatever he was thinking, it was starting to fester. It’d be better to get him talking “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s no-” He shook his head. “It’s just… I… my dad… he liked to drink his without adding anything, no sugar, no… coconut milk…, and… me and mom used to tease him about it…” He was retreating into himself once more.
I kept drinking my coffee; There had to be something else I could talk with him about…
Jorge straightened up, something about his posture, about the way he held himself had changed.
“Say… Tayla… ¿Can I ask you for a favor?” Despite the confidence he exuded he was running one of his claws over the back of his mug repeatedly.
“W-what kind of favor?”
“There’s something I want, no, something I need to make for the end of the [month], and… I’m going to need your help getting the stuff, I’d just ask you to get it all for me, but honestly that wouldn’t be right.”
“O-ok, but you still haven’t told me what the favor is?”
“I need to buy flowers, candles, a good tablecloth, and see what dishes I can actually make here that’d be good enough.”
“W-What for?” W-Was he? My heart was beating wildly in a peculiar mix of elation, nervousness and apprehension.
“I’m going to make an Altar for Day of the Dead (Día de Muertos), it’s the least I can do for my family all the way over here.”
W-
Wh-
WHAT?

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is undoubtedly a powerhouse, if not the powerhouse of the indie perfume world. Who else (like me) came to indie perfume at least in part from the hat-tip to BPAL in the acknowledgements of Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus? I actually still have never ordered from BPAL directly, but I have amassed a fair few samples and decants thanks to Ajevie, Arae, and swaps. And it's always fun to read through the names and notes of each new collection release!
My general thoughts about BPAL are these: they clearly know what they're doing and have an enormous library of notes for them to draw upon. Sometimes new releases feel very much like they just sort of reached into a dark cupboard and combined whatever bottles they happened to grab (particularly the Ménages à Trois), and yet sometimes the unexpected combinations are genius. (Sometimes they are very much not.) BPAL's perfumes tend to work okay for me, but they're not one of my top houses (that list is made up of Nui Cobalt, Poesie, Arcana, and NAVA), although a few BPAL scents have turned out to be holy grails for me (Drow Yoga Instructor, Mouse's Long and Sad Tale). Oddly enough, their florals often tend not to work well on my skin, which is hugely disappointing especially since I deliberately sought out a lot of their ethereal-sounding florals and then a lot of them failed for me. However, their sandalwood incense is astounding, and I love their sweet pea, plum, and pink sandalwood notes.
My preferences: I especially love snuggly scents, incense, golden amber, cardamom, black tea, beeswax, non-gourmand vanillas, and white florals (though sadly I am allergic to lilies and jasmine doesn’t usually work on me). I don't like hay, overly sweet gourmands, excessive musk, leather, dragon’s blood, patchouli, labdanum, or any really dark scents in general.
So here are 27 reviews, organized roughly by category:

Ambers

And With My Spade I Delfe My Landys [Snow-capped golden amber with snowdrop, winter gardenia, hellebore, and iris] - First off, I'm a scholar of Renaissance music, with a real fondness for medieval Books of Hours. Second, I get obsessed with snowdrops in the late winter when the cottagecore-y, hobbit-y, linen-enthusiast circles of Instagram that I haunt fill with photos of snowdrops in February. So how could I pass this one up? I get golden amber and floral as anticipated, and also (just on application, then it recedes) a very resinous, citrusy, herbal scent that I can't quite place - rosemary? Pine? Some combination of the two? It's also a bit powdery (iris has a tendency to pull powdery on me, and as a lover of powdery florals that's just fine with me). And With My Spade is so very reminiscent of those first tentative flowers pushing up through whatever snow still lays on the ground and it's absolutely bonkers wonderful for that transitional season between winter and spring, which is of course what I bought it for.
Bastet [Luxuriant amber, warm Egyptian musk, fierce saffron and soft myrrh, almond, cardamom and golden lotus] - On application, that golden amber reads as powdery honey. As it dries, a sophisticated Egyptian musk and a hint of lotus floral emerge. This perfume is not really gourmand despite the notes. I wish the incense or spices had more presence. As it is, this perfume is nice but it feels a little thin.
Cathedral [Venerable and solemn: the scent of incense smoke wafting through an ancient church. A true ecclesiastical blend of pure resins] - Ohhh, it's pretty. Golden and resinous with only the slightest hint of smokiness. These resins feel closer to tree sap than a dark or spiced incense, so while it's not like any church I've ever experienced, Cathedral is gorgeous and uplifting. I got one scant wear out of my sniffie and would definitely consider getting another sample.
Golden Priapus [A truly carnal, energetic men’s blend: vanilla and amber with juniper, rosewood and white pine] - My experience with this was so puzzling that I went to look up reviews on the BPAL forum, which only puzzled me further! On me, Golden Priapus is an extremely resinous, rosewood-y and tree sap-y golden amber not altogether dissimilar to Hexennacht Baltic Amber [Thick rivulets of golden amber, pinus succinifera, cedarwood, jammy fir absolute, oakmoss absolute, tree moss, verdant musk, cardamom, balsam, lightning-scorched ancient boughs] but with more tree resin and less verdant evergreen. "Carnal" and "energetic" it is not - so off to the forum, where I consistently saw reviews calling this "masculine" and even "a more masculine Snake Oil". I've sniffed Snake Oil (just in the vial, not on my skin) and it had a very red musk + spices vibe, and I don't really see a similarity to Golden Priapus. Nor would I call this "masculine" unless you're the sort who views resinous, sappy golden amber as a more stereotypically men's scent.
The Sun Rising [Three shades of tawny amber radiating with orange blossom, Italian yellow bergamot, saffron, and mandarin] - Golden amber and citrus, with a lot of the saffron. I tested what little was left in the free sniffie in late August, and it was absolutely perfect for the heat of late summer, though I don't think I'll bother buying more because the citrus overpowers the amber a bit (especially the prominent bergamot, not my favorite note).
My Wise Beauty [A simple scent for a quiet memory: white sandalwood and sweet amber] - Resinous golden amber and creamy sandalwood…and vanilla frosting? The "sweet" part of "sweet amber" isn't just flowery adjective but actual description. My Wise Beauty is simple and straightforward but really pretty, wrapping me in a blanket of coziness. The sugary frosting aspect will keep me from seeking out more when this little decant is exhausted, but I will happily wear what's here.

Florals

Alice [Milk and honey with rose, carnation and bergamot] - Soft florals, with the carnation a little more present than the rose. I'm always wary of milk or dairy notes, but the milk and honey here simply serve to mute the rose and carnation, both of which can go strongly green or spicy. I don't dislike this perfume, but as a person who doesn't much love these particular floral notes (I'm much more into white florals, especially tuberose and tiare), it's a little bit boring for me and I ended up destashing this one.
Juliet [Sweet pea with stargazer lily, calla lily, heliotrope, honeysuckle, white musk and a touch of fresh pear] - Disappointingly nondescript. Nonspecific white florals and a hint of pear sweetness. It's dainty and feminine but not memorable. For sweet pea, I'll get my fix with Mouse's Long and Sad Tale.
Lady Amalthea [A luminous white winter musk with lilac, wisteria, white chocolate, white mint, and tuberose] - When it first goes on, the different elements - the florals (I definitely get tuberose, and another floral that must be wisteria, which I'm unfamiliar with), the camphoric spearmint, the white chocolate, and the musk just barely brushing animalic - fight with each other, but it quickly dries down to a much more seamless whole, pretty winter florals over a comforting and Poesie-like white chocolate musky base layer.
Maiden [A gentle vision of purity, goodness and virtue: white tea, carnation and Damask Rose] - It's a lovely combination of rose and carnation, much like Alice, with a slight hint of the green stems but mostly the fragrant flowers (and without the sharp spiciness carnation can sometimes get). On application when it was extremely and uniformly floral, I thought that this perfume needed some vanilla or amber or sandalwood to give it dimension, but as it dried, the white tea emerged to do exactly that - it's not a bitter, astringent white tea, but more the feeling of steam rising from a pale tea in a china teacup. Still, I'm ambivalent at best about rose and carnation, so I destashed it.
Mouse's Long and Sad Tale [Vanilla, two ambers, sweet pea and white sandalwood] - This one is so pretty, delicately sweet and floral, and a staple of my spring perfumes! (Meanwhile, Husband says it smells like talc powder, acknowledging that I like exactly that kind of thing.) I don't get amber or sandalwood individually, but they lend the vanilla a mellowness and warmth. Several hours later, it lingers as a warm sandalwood-amber-vanilla. I love this one so much that I sought out a decant of Mouse's Long and Sad Pumpkin, which I'm saving to try this fall.
Pele [Muguet and Hawaiian white ginger enveloped by warm, damp tropical blooms] - So pretty! This is entirely a white floral perfume, tiare backed by tuberose (I think? A second white floral, definitely). If there's any ginger in there, I don't notice it. I adore tiare so I am entirely happy, though I can also acknowledge that this perfume lacks depth or complexity. I love this and other tropical white florals for summer.
Zorya Polunochnaya [Pale amber and ambergris, gossamer vanilla, moonflower, and white tobacco petals] - A crowd favorite, and I wanted to see what everyone was talking about! This has a sweet + salty, white amber + pink cotton candy effect. The slight tinge of butter and salt to this white amber (no doubt amplified by the ambergris) reminds me of the Alkemia white ambers, Luminae especially. I actually don't really get any florals from this one, which is a pity because I love the moonflower in Nui Cobalt Crown of Hekate [Moonflower and myrrh over shining white amber on a pillow of sheer vanilla] though I find the myrrh in that one quite overpowering. I had been hoping this would be a nice alternative. As Zorya P starts to dry, the tobacco starts to emerge and replaces the initial pink cotton candy effect. It's gentle as tobacco goes, but still more than I would prefer. All in all, it's been really fun to try this one since everyone's been talking about it - and it is indeed just as "gossamer" as the notes description says, though it has a really surprising longevity! But it's not ultimately going to find a place in my collection, since I have other, equally ethereal vanillas that I prefer, and I'm really not into tobacco.

Lavender

TKO [No official notes - people agree that it's lavender and marshmallow] - Yep, lavender and marshmallow. A particularly herbal, astringent lavender, which cuts beautifully through the sweet powderiness of the marshmallow. I'm also getting a sort of dusty background incense, which makes this scent remind me of Stereoplasm Lavender Scarab [Golden amber, English lavender, blackberry, incense], but with marshmallow instead of golden amber
A Place of Seeing [Pink rosebuds and lavender with amber-gilded sandalwood, vanilla bean, bergamot, and marshmallow] - It goes on with the same sleepy lavender as in TKO, made more detailed and complex with the addition of the gentle pink rose petals and the amber-sandalwood-vanilla base. It wafts around me a haze of femininity. As it dries, the marshmallow emerges too, and it becomes obvious that this is literally TKO with the addition of rose and those warm base notes. Very pretty!
The Air and the Ether [Gentle, almost imperceptible, permeating all things: pale amber vibrating with ambergris and a thread of lavender] - Lavender, one that sits midway between herbal and floral, and skin musk. It's an incredibly skin-hugging scent, but has excellent longevity.
On Wednesday, I Will Promise You a Phantom [A gust of luminous lavender, the spectral skin musk of a gently curving ghostly hand, a melodic twang of wisteria and ylang ylang, and a murmur of myrrh-touched vanilla husk] - Another "sleepy lavender" scent - I have several of these in my perfume collection and I love them all. This is a really ghostly, ethereal scent, wafting elusively around me. On Wednesday is primarily a lavender + vanilla scent, but with a bit of complexity. The lavender is the herbal sort, but it's so soft that it's not at all astringent, and the faintest hint of the other florals makes the lavender sometimes smell like the floral sort. Adding just a touch of myrrh was a really clever choice on their part - there's so little that it doesn't make it smell earthy or smoky, but it grounds it and gives it complexity and richness. It's really quite a lovely, ghostly scent.

Fruits

Drow Yoga Instructor [Wild plum, indigo lavender, and a tranquil tendril of sandalwood incense] - A dusty and purple scent with an absolutely gorgeous gentle incense note (I love sandalwood incense!) backed up by lavender flowers (sort of midway between floral and herbal), and a plum note that is intense fruity candy for about 2 seconds when applied, and then merely makes this scent truly purple. When I say "dusty", I actually mean it - after about half an hour, the sandalwood incense really does start to include an actual dust note. This is a stunning scent for yoga practice, or any day you want a gentle purple incense scent. It is the yoga perfume for me, gorgeous and meditative and containing possibly my favorite-ever incense note (sorry, NCD cathedral incense, I promise I love you too!). I don't wear this one as often as I'd like to because I also have other yoga perfumes and I like to rotate through them, but honestly this is my holy grail yoga scent. Even though it has low longevity on me; it'll last through a yoga class and then some, and that's really all I need from it. I'm seriously considering buying a full bottle, which (since I'm a person who full-sizes hardly anything) tells you something about how essential it is for my collection.
Painted Scars [Wild plum and white sandalwood with lavender bud, white musk, and blackberry wine] - I snapped up a half-ml decant of this as soon as I saw the notes, because it reminded me so much of both their Drow Yoga Instructor and also Stereoplasm Lavender Scarab [Golden amber, English lavender, blackberry, incense], both scents I really like. This is a much brighter, fruitier scent than Drow Yoga Instructor, the plum and blackberry combination going on as brash fruity candy (I don't love this stage). But it does dry down to a very calming scent, those dark fruits joined by a bit of grounding lavender and sandalwood. Unlike the two others I thought this would be similar to, Painted Scars noticeably lacks incense, but it definitely lives in their same family. I quite enjoy it (once it has dried down) but won't need to seek out more. I do wonder if layering this with Drow Yoga Instructor might improve the latter's longevity, which would be thrilling if it works.
Titania [A nocturnal bounty of fae dew-kissed petals and pale fruits: white grape, white peach, iced pear, musk rose, sweet pea, moonflower and snapdragon] - It goes on with a blast of fruits too sweet and fruit snack-like, mostly that white grape, but as it sits the florals suddenly emerge with a great whack of petals, and at this point I'm very puzzled because the particular combination of fruit and indistinct white florals reminds me a great deal of mint toothpaste. Another one that's a nice idea but doesn't really work for me on execution.

Greenery

Elf [Pale golden musk, honeycomb, amber, parma violet, hawthorne bark, aspen leaf, forest lily, life everlasting, white moss, and a hint of wild berry] - Wet on my skin, it's pine needles seen through a soft, gauzy veil - it's a strange but lovely effect, the pine needles muted by fruit and amber. Dry, the pine needles disappear entirely, and the perfume is an indistinct but really pretty mix of greenery, floral, berry-like fruit, and glowing golden amber. The overall effect is pretty muted, and by this I don't mean that it lacks throw, just that all of the elements are soft and gentle. It does feel undeniably elfin. I thought it would be a spring perfume but then never wore it the next spring, and when I tried it in early summer, it was much too tree-ish for me - but Husband loved it and happily took ownership.

Beeswax

The Lights of Men's Lives [The wax and smoke of millions upon millions of candles illuminating the walls of Death’s shadowy cave: some tall, straight, and strong, blazing with the fire of life, others dim and guttering] - I love beeswax notes and was excited to try a perfume that I'd read is the perfect epitome of a lit beeswax candle. It's a honeyed beeswax with an unmistakable candle-ness to it even though I don't smell any smoke. It's an extremely atmospheric scent and one that is very situational for me, not for daily wear. I especially love it for Good Friday.
The Little Owl [Tonka bean and vetiver with brown sandalwood, oak bark, almond, and beeswax] - Not going to lie; I was completely suckered in by the cuteness of the name and concept. This scent feels extremely Nui Cobalt-ish: woodsy but also cuddly, featuring honey + almond (like Silver Fox, Chionophilia, and so on) and also some earthier notes, and the beeswax is strong. This is absolutely going to be a fall perfume for me.

Miscellaneous

Baobhan Sith [Grapefruit, white tea, apple blossom and ginger] - I'm not really one for ginger-heavy scents, and somehow my skin always seems to amp ginger notes even if, as in this one, they're last on the list. (Isn't that always the way?) This one doesn't go on with too much ginger, but even just fifteen minutes later it becomes primarily ginger on me, backed with the astringency of acidic grapefruit citrus and white tea leaves. I really love apple blossom but I don't get much if any here; it's overwhelmed by the more assertive notes. Another half hour later, Baobhan Sith is actually nearly gone (or perhaps I just grow anosmic to it?). Meanwhile, at that stage, Husband tells me he can still smell it (so yeah, I've probably just gone anosmic), and that it reminds him of the lime oil in the furniture wax he uses - and he says he quite likes this perfume on me. Overall, it's a lovely idea, and I still think a white tea + apple blossom scent would be just fabulous but this is not it for me.
Bliss in the Pumpkin Patch [There's all manner of shenanigans in this year's pumpkin patch! Pumpkin'ized hybrids of GC BPAL scents abound! BLISS: A shot of pure, self-indulgent euphoria! A scent that is very, very wicked in its own way: the serotonin-slathered scent of pure milk chocolate.] - Oddly enough, I don't actually get milk chocolate; I get cinnamon and espresso over a creamy, foody pumpkin - all told, a bit too gourmand for me, but it was tremendous fun to try. (Less fun: the cocoa solids had separated from the oil, which also left unappealing chocolatey smears on my wrists that I later had to go wash off.)
Lust [Uncontrollable passion and insatiable sexual desire: red musk, patchouli, ylang ylang and myrrh] - This combination of red musk, patch, and myrrh smells to me a lot like dragon's blood. Husband says he likes this one but wouldn't wear it himself; meanwhile it's very very not for me and I didn't bother skin-testing it, red musk and patch being two of my death notes.
Vasilissa [Creamy skin musk and blushing pink musk with soft sandalwood, white amber, dutiful myrrh, and star jasmine] - My immediate response: "Ooh, pretty!" And even Husband graced it with a "yeah, that's nice." A dainty, feminine, slightly floral but mostly pink sandalwood scent with just enough resin and earthy myrrh underneath to ground it.
​

Personally...

I absolutely positively cannot do without Drow Yoga Instructor and Mouse's Sad and Long Tale. Other BPAL favorites include A Place of Seeing and Vasilissa, and probably also The Little Owl (we'll see how much I reach for it in autumn). I'm sad that most of the floral ones I tried don't really work for me. I can also commend BPAL for their pretty and often very clever approach to gauzy, lavender-forward scents.
Thank you to everyone who sold or gifted me these samples and decants!

Car side swiped another car. Car has been repaired. Head lamp definitely replaced. Probably the bumper also and front QP. Not worried about body more structural or mechanical. Is $5600 leaning towards mechanical and structural or simply panel and body damage? Any input would be appreciated. (… I currently own a Impreza and had damage to my bumper, fog light a few years back. Job was $1700 with no mech or structural repairs so I figure prices could climb easily in minor accidents)