Wine and spirits easton rd

I’m still seeing my situationaship, despite moving away. I only see him when I’m in town and he’s always down for it.
Recently I messaged him and asked what he was up to. He said he was with friends. Idk why, but I’ve been sensing that he might be seeing other people or in a relationship. So I replied “girlfriend?”. He just said yes . I asked if he was serious and if so why he didn’t tell me he was seeing someone and he said yes and he’ll talk more.
I’ve asked him before and he said he wasn’t seeing anyone and he always said , he would let me know if he got in a relationship. I wasn’t sure if he said that to make me jealous, was being sarcastic or was telling the truth. We just talked about meeting up a few days ago. He could tell I was upset with my responses and said he’d call me to talk more.
Then he finally messages me at 3 a.m. , like 5 hours later. He said since I brought up a girlfriend , he just went along with it and wasn’t serious.
I feel like that was still wrong to do , but he said I was over reacting.
Last time I saw him, he was acting different. It was fun, but he was lying to me about something.
He told me he was going to be working until midnight. I messaged him when I was in town earlier and he asked where I was and to let him know when I was done hanging with friends. I told him when and then he told me to call him. He said he was 30 minutes away for a “work thing”. It wasn’t adding up then because I used to work at the job he’s at now and it’s not located in the city he was said to be in. He then started a random conversation that was off topic and I began to sense maybe he was on something.
He messaged me when he got home which was quick. He was already naked when I got in and when we began fooling around, it looked like he was high out of his mind. I never saw him like that before. He seemed to be on another planet. I asked if he was fine and if he did anything before I got there and he said alcohol and weed. I’m not someone who’s familiar with drugs, but it seemed like it could’ve been something more than that. I dated a guy who did substances before but it was hard drugs and he’d only get extremely horny and affectionate while on those.
This guy was also very affectionate and did stuff he’s never done before to me. It’s like he couldn’t keep his hands off of me and didn’t want to stop. While it was great, this was all unlike him. I sensed maybe he could’ve been on Molly but he said he wasn’t when I asked . He said he drank wine, but the bottle still had a lot in it when he offered it to me. I know the two can make you horny, but it was so extreme with how he was acting, it seemed like it was something else.
He was vaping when I got there and said what he had wasn’t strong.
He couldn’t finish at all, and would go limp every now and then , but he kept trying to fool around non stop for like 4 hours. He’d say how amazing I was and he even just wanted to cuddle. I asked if he drank and smoke at work because he was too intoxicated when I got there and he said he had dinner with friends and worked earlier.
None of this is adding up. While I had a good time, I’m wondering what he was lying about & why ? I always wonder if he’s seeing other women and if that could’ve been the case ?
There is a girl who’s shown up in some of photos with friends. Someone who I’ve never seen before. She’s shown up in photos for his birthday and other things. I was wondering if this was someone he’s seeing. I asked him if he was seeing anyone else and he said no and said he would let me know if he ever did, but I still feel like he’s hiding something. He wound up deleting the photo he shared that she was in after i asked that.
Also wanted to note how He’s also made a comment once how I needed to see him soon because he couldn’t go that long without sex. I had moved at the time and hadn’t been back home in months. He said I should find him a replacement. He brought up us having group sex, which I’ve told him countless times before that I wasn’t interested. He then blamed all of this behavior on being intoxicated and apologized.
I know this a bit much for a situationship, but I just hate being lied to. I just want to know what’s really going on.
What is his deal?
TL;DR Recently I messaged him and asked what he was up to. He said he was with friends. Idk why, but I’ve been sensing that he might be seeing other people or in a relationship. So I replied “girlfriend?”. He just said yes . I asked if he was serious and if so why he didn’t tell me he was seeing someone and he said yes and he’ll talk more.
I’ve asked him before and he said he wasn’t seeing anyone and he always said , he would let me know if he got in a relationship. I wasn’t sure if he said that to make me jealous, was being sarcastic or was telling the truth. We just talked about meeting up a few days ago. He could tell I was upset with my responses and said he’d call me to talk more.
Then he finally messages me at 3 a.m. , like 5 hours later. He said since I brought up a girlfriend , he just went along with it and wasn’t serious.
I’m not sure what to believe because he’s been acting weird lately.

17th of Last Seed, 4E 201
Today marks the beginning of a new chapter in my life, and I find solace in the blank pages of this newly acquired journal. It seems fitting that my first entry coincides with my arrival in Windhelm, a city as frigid and unwelcoming as the land that surrounds it. The Grey Quarter, the district where I have sought refuge, feels like a bitter irony. Nevertheless, this is where I must begin anew, away from the servitude of Neloth in Tel Mithryn.
My name is Sayla, a Dunmer scholar who has found herself cast out from the comforting halls of House Telvanni. The decision to leave Neloth's employ was not an easy one, but the burdens of servitude had grown unbearable. The constant demands and condescending remarks had chipped away at my spirit until there was little left. Thus, with the meager savings I had accumulated, I ventured forth to Skyrim, a land of rugged beauty and ancient secrets.
The Grey Quarter, despite its name, is a place of relative safety for a Dunmer like me. The other Dark Elves who call this place home share in our collective struggle, exiled from Morrowind and treated as second-class citizens. The harsh treatment from the Nords is hard to ignore, but I am grateful for the small abode I managed to purchase with my meager funds. Though dingy and modest, it is a place I can call my own, away from the prying eyes and stifling atmosphere of Tel Mithryn.
In this new dwelling, I have surrounded myself with books, scrolls, and alchemical apparatus. My focus now turns to the study of spellcraft, an art that has always intrigued me. I seek to unlock the mysteries of magic, to understand its intricacies, and wield it with precision and purpose. The path to mastery is treacherous and demanding, but I am determined to persevere.
Already, I have begun poring over ancient tomes, deciphering cryptic runes, and practicing simple incantations. The power of the arcane crackles in the air, and I can feel the potential coursing through my veins. I must learn to harness it, to shape it into a force that can aid me in my endeavors.
Yet, as I delve into the depths of magic, I cannot help but feel a twinge of sadness and nostalgia for the life I left behind. Neloth may have been a difficult master, but he was also a repository of knowledge, and the halls of Tel Mithryn offered glimpses into the vast tapestry of magical arts. Here, in Windhelm, I am alone in my pursuits, left to navigate the treacherous path of self-discovery.
But I am undeterred. I refuse to let the icy winds of Skyrim extinguish the flames of my ambition. Each day will bring new challenges and revelations, and with this journal as my companion, I shall document my journey, my triumphs, and my failures. Perhaps one day, my name will be spoken with reverence among the scholars of Tamriel, and the world shall know Sayla, the Dunmer mage who defied the odds.
For now, though, it is time to rest. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows upon the walls of my modest abode, and the gentle whispers of the wind outside lull me into a state of tranquility. Tomorrow, the pursuit of knowledge shall resume, and my path to mastery shall continue.
May Azura guide my steps and grant me the wisdom to unravel the secrets that lie before me.
Sayla, the Dunmer scholar

I watched part 1&2 of Children of the Gods. I'm two bottles of wine and and am extremely angry at myself for choosing this game/challenge on a Monday night. But... Dude
And I apologize for grammar. This was all very difficult to type.

I need help. I was recently trying to mod ghost recon breakpoint on my deck but encountered an issue. I was able to get anviltoolkit running using wine but when I go look for the directory for my game so it can install the mods, I can’t access it. The game is on my sd card. When I goto /run in mh Z drive, media doesn’t pop up. I don’t know if I’m missing something and I know I probably didn’t explain that right but if anyone can help it would be appreciated

Did anyone else notice the inspiration for the Spirit Temple boss battle is clearly an exploding barbed wire death match, which is well known by those who watch hardcore Japanese wrestling. I just found that really funny that the game devs designed it this way and will probably go unnoticed by most people.
https://youtu.be/1n8Tmr8sisg

Hi all,
I’m brand new to aging wine and have been trying to do it at home. I’ve been aging a 2017 Daou Soul of a Lion since 2020. Temperature controlled room, in a box, on its side. I had my floors re-done and had left it temporarily in a 2nd floor bedroom in a relatively higher traffic area for 6 months or so.
My question is how damaging was the exposure to temporary vibrations to the wine over this period of time? I’m concerned it won’t be as good as it could be when I decide to open it.
Thanks!

My previous strategies for quitting were “move past” what I had done, the people I’ve hurt, and the situations I’ve brought on myself. I’ve had no small amount of success with it, with large number counts and pride and glow and weight loss. But in the end forgetting why my relationship with alcohol is the way it is easily slides into “I can be around this hard partying and not be affected”, to “I’m better now”, into “It’s a special occasion, I want to fit in, I want to feel good”. But it never lasts, I slip too far and so easily tumble, undoing in a few happy hours what took literal years to accomplish.
I’m tired of running, tired of ignoring and downplaying my disease that much of my family shares and has been killed by. So many of the people I’ve hurt don’t want to hear it, and I can’t blame them. And those I have said sorry to haven’t accepted, maybe because it takes something truly terrible for me to acknowledge I owe an apology.
For now, all I can do is try to keep my job, my health, and my freedom. I’m going to wake up tomorrow, break my Caffeine Detox, make an honest living, and try to find in me the person that they once loved. I want to remember that person, before the spirits took them away. IWNDWYT.

My players wants to choose a spirit that holds resentment against the Garou as a totem. This spirit was once aligned with the Lion Brood in the White Howlers tribe. However, another player has a strong connection with the spirit. To test the group's honor and loyalty, I have decided that the spirit will propose a quest.
Information about the spirit: It was a lion spirit that was revered for its abilities in judgment and counseling. However, after the fall of the Lion totem, it fled to South America and gradually took on the role of a psychopomp, changing its form to appear as a spectral figure guiding lost souls or an iron bird. This spirit has a long memory and is not quick to forget. It is wise and holds a deep grudge against the Garou, but he is also willing to aid those who strive to make a positive difference in the midst of the apocalypse. It is known as Mingusoto, a Brazilian folklore creature. Mingusoto will be a Totem of Respect.

Hi all. Looking for wine farms to buy and or invest into. We are a group of investors. Kindly connect with Willem Tait on LinkedIn below and message him. Thanks in advance. Willing buyer

Credit for the original story goes to u/spacepaladin15. This is the final chapter of NoP 2177, although I personally consider it more of an epilogue. Either way, I hope you enjoy!
[First] [Previous]
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Memory transcript subject: Tressa, Venlil outlaw
Date [Standardized Human Time]: January 5th, 2178
Location: USS Washington, dark side of Venlil Prime
A bloodcurdling shriek echoed through the hall, followed by the sound of claws scrabbling against the metal floor. A frantic chase ensued, a blur of fur and scales flying down the corridor at breakneck pace. But it was over before it began. A connecting door slid shut with a quiet hiss which silenced all hope of escape, leaving the terrified predator at the mercy of an increasingly impatient prey.
“Hy, we’ve been over this. You need to take baths, or your scales will get all yucky and stop growing. You don’t want that, do you?”
Hyacii was still frantically searching over the door for some way to open it. Her lovely gray coat, matted in oil from some ill-advised exploration through the ship, left streaks of iridescent sludge across the polished floor which would need to be cleaned up. But that could wait.
“Hy…”
Finding no escape from her grim fate, the young Arxur finally turned around to face her captor. “N-no! I don’t wanna!”
“Hyacii, I’m giving you ‘till the count of five. If you don’t come with me when I hit zero, I’ll go get Sasha and she’ll bathe you instead. Fiiiiiive…”
“NO!”
“Fourrrrrrr…”
“I’ll tell Mama! I’ll tell her you’re being mean to me!”
“We’ve talked about this with her, remember? Little Arxur need to keep their scales clean to grow up big and strong. You want to grow up all big and strong like she is, right?”
“She wouldn’t say that! I want to see! I want to see what she said!”
“Sweetie… you’re just stalling. You can’t read big Venlang words yet like she uses.”
She cast her head to the side in a pout. “Yes. I. could! I’ve been practicing with Trish, this much!” To emphasize her point, she stretched her little arms out as far as they’d go.
“Threeeeeee…”
Hyacii swept her tail across the floor in frustration, further smearing oil everywhere.
“Twoooooo…”
With time running out, she employed her final weapon, an expression which Sasha referred to as ‘Puppy dog eyes’. While normally adorable, it now only served to highlight the dark smears across her face.
“One and a half…”
Her full arsenal depleted, Hyacii finally capitulated and stormed over to Tressa’s side with exaggerated stomps. She allowed herself to be picked up, trying and failing to suppress an adorable noise of comfort as Tressa rubbed the scales around her shoulders. He’d need to shower later anyway, so the sludge staining his ragged fur was hardly a concern.
—
The little Arxur squirmed playfully in his arms, kicking up splashes which cut through the layer of bubbles to soak his bedraggled wool as he tried to dislodge more of the thick oil.
“Are you enjoying your bath, sweetie?”
“Yes!”
“I thought you hated baths.” He took a moment to stop scrubbing, and stretched his arms out wide. “This much, right? Isn't that what you said?”
“N— Yes! I do, they take so long, and they’re so… I hate them!”
“That so? What are you doing enjoying one, then?”
Hyacii had no response, which he took as his cue to get back to washing. He carefully cleansed the iridescent sludge, revealing a dense pattern of gray scales which shimmered like a rippling pond. She giggled as he washed around her snout, swishing her tail in a motion which was normally adorable but now only served to push more water out of the bathtub and onto the floor.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you earlier…” He started, pointedly ignoring the irritating feeling of water soaking into his fur and pooling at his ankles, “...but James’ll be out for the next couple paws. He took Beast with him, so no checking on the garden for a little while, OK?”
She grumbled for a moment, before a curious look flickered past her eyes. “Why does he and Sassa keep leaving?”
“Why do he and Sasha keep leaving, not ‘does’. Anyway… you know how we can’t eat the same food you eat?”
“Right! That’s why you’re build— uh, growing the garden!”
“Yeah, but the garden isn’t all grown yet. Until then, we still need to get food from the city. Once our garden grows, we can stay here all the time for you. Remember how we talked about patience?”
“But I don’t wanna be patient! I want him to be back now!”
“So do I, but everybody needs to wait for things. If you keep busy, he’ll be back before you know it!”
Hyacii pouted. “You’re just trying to trick me into practicing more words, aren’t you?”
“I might be. But you want to talk to your mom all on your own, right? If you keep learning with Trish, you can tell her all about the horrible baths we make you take. Speaking of… here, ready?”
After getting a human-like nod of affirmation, Tressa lifted her from the tub and onto a towel. They weren’t sure if the heat of an air dryer would harm her scales, so getting her dry was almost as laborious as getting her clean. It was worth it, though; she enjoyed the feeling of being towel-dried almost as much as she enjoyed tearing around the halls at Mach two. A muffled peal of delight issued from the heap of towel that used to be an Arxur, as he set to work wiping the water from her scales.
—
The USS Washington was once a proud human starship, one of several hundred which had so briefly encircled Venlil Prime to act as defense. Sasha talked about that brief period sometimes, usually when she was drunk; though it lasted only months, enough history was made in that span that it felt like a full decade.
Long, beautiful months for some; the ones who talked reverently about Tarva as though she was still Governor, who made dumb jokes about the Venlil’s behavior on first contact when they still regarded humanity as violent and strange creatures. Sasha, naturally, was one of these people. She’d go on and on about what a magical time it was when they realized the universe was far bigger than they ever knew, and how incredible it was to make friends among aliens. Her closed-lipped smile, a habitual remnant of a time when most Venlil froze in terror at a human’s teeth, spoke of how much humanity was willing to give up for the chance at intergalactic acceptance.
Miserable, chaotic months for others; those who talked about it as a time of strife and mistrust, when Venlil lived in fear of predation and humans suffered the agony of constant rejection and hate. Only following the first bombing of Earth did things begin to change in earnest, and even then it was hardly a clean transition. Refugee shelters and human-friendly businesses went up in flames in a grim foreshadowing of the fate that would befall Venlil Prime as a whole, the planet condemned to burn for sheltering uncured and unpacified humans. Of course, the fact that they were sheltered instead of willingly led to slaughter painted a somewhat softer view of the time period than many would admit.
Both narratives ended the same way. There was no debate over the justice of the Federation’s rule for the generation that remembered a time before; those city-scorching flames still burned fresh in everyone’s mind. Nor was there any debate over the trustworthiness of humanity, not among the Venlil who remembered the invasion.
When an exterminator fleet descended upon Venlil Prime, the UN pulled back the resources it desperately needed elsewhere to defend the planet. Earth itself was left all but unguarded in the effort to save a species that humanity had been allied with for less than a year, a task they set to with a desperate fury that hinged on madness. Hundreds of ships flung themselves at the enemy in suicidal charges once vital systems were crippled, targeting bombers and ensuring that the Venlil could not simply be annihilated from orbit.
​
The USS Washington was not one of those brave kamikaze vessels. It was one of the ships in orbit as a passive defense, knocked out of the fight with relatively minimal damage and able to make a hasty emergency landing on the dark side of Venlil Prime.
In the time Tressa had spent getting systems up and running, he’d never come across a single skeleton; the ship had been thoroughly picked clean by shadestalkers, or perhaps the crew had managed to evacuate without casualties. Or at least had the time and people needed to move the dead off the ship and hold proper burials. Whatever the reason, it made the difficult work of repairing the ship much less gruesome.
They’d fried any records for obvious security reasons, but left the backup power operational. They’d left a number of vital systems operational; if they had evacuated, they’d done so in a rush. Or perhaps they expected victory, and didn’t anticipate the need to scuttle the ship. Either way, Tressa’s job was a hell of a lot easier for it.
Restoring water had been a far simpler job than he anticipated. He’d been dreading the prospect of digging a well, but equipment scavenged from the ship itself had made that process far easier, and the onboard supply alone was enough to last months. With this abundance, they could even afford such extravagant luxuries as baths. Hyacii really didn’t know how good she had it.
—
Once he’d gotten the little Arxur all cleaned up and given her a stern talk about not crawling around the ship’s filthier corners, she was free to ignore his advice and go straight back to sprinting around the labyrinthian behemoth they called home.
He often wondered, watching her stalk around the ship, if this exploration of territory and practice sneaking through shadows was as vital to her development as physical contact was for Venlil children. Sometimes he wondered if so much affection was even natural for her species, or if they were smothering her every time they pulled her in for a hug.
She did enjoy it, but… not everything enjoyable was good for her. When she was younger and had no concept of restraint, they’d have to physically hold her back from gorging herself on berries which would make her violently ill, which she’d keep eating anyway because she loved the taste too much. Maybe it was the same thing with their parental love. Maybe they’d have to teach her how to be more independent for her own good, however difficult that change would be for all of them.
Ultimately, the idea was speculation. Depriving her of warmth would be cruel unless they were absolutely certain it would aid in her development. And the fact was, they had no idea. Despite their best search efforts, records concerning Arxur child rearing were nonexistent.
The Dominion actively suppressed any behavior seen as ‘weak’, so growing up under their reign was a harsh and loveless process; at least, that was what they’d been told by an Arxur who lived through the process, and they had no reason to doubt her. There wasn’t a way they could verify the fact, though. The Federation didn’t want anyone thinking of predators as people, so any records that might’ve existed were long since turned to ash.
As cruel as the Dominion could be, they had an interest in keeping their subjects healthy enough to fight. Without those records, and with only someone else’s faint memories to go by, they were largely on their own in regards to physical development.
Was their little Hyacii eating right? They’d been feeding her using an organ printer they’d managed to repair, but perhaps there were nutrients in bones and skin that she wasn’t getting. Her scales were getting slowly lighter; maybe malnutrition, or maybe that was a natural part of her development. Was she sleeping right? Lately, she’d been complaining about grogginess, though it didn’t seem to stop her from tearing around the halls.
And psychologically? There, they were completely in the dark. All species had different needs, especially at a young age. Venlil cubs needed a level of attention that most humans would find smothering. Human children required forms of play that reflected long-obsolete hunting instincts, games which involved chasing and manipulating projectiles. What types of play did a growing Arxur need? They played hide-and-seek with her (as best they could, though it was rapidly approaching the point where she could neither be caught nor hidden from), but that was hardly a replacement for hunting. Was she languishing without prey to chase?
A hundred different worries, a thousand different questions, and not a single easy, reassuring answer. On that fateful night, Tressa had assumed that living alongside a “true predator” would be the hardest part. In fact, that had come easy; how could anyone feel threatened by such a sweet little star?
No, the most difficult part was coming to terms with the fact that they would make mistakes. In their lack of knowledge, trial and error was the only way to gain ground. And “error” meant hurting Hyacii. No matter how much they loved her, they couldn’t help but hurt her. It was a difficult truth to swallow.
But it was a truth they had to accept. Ultimately, all they could do was try. Try, and love her, and hope that was enough to cover for their failures. Hope that one day, someone else would be insane enough to learn from their mistakes. Hope that their little Hyacii wouldn’t be both the first and last Arxur of her generation. Hope that one day, they wouldn’t have to hide. She wouldn’t have to hide.
​
In the cold shadow of Venlil Prime, it wasn’t enough to have power and heat. Plenty had fled to the frigid wasteland in search of respite, only to die cold and alone despite their physical needs being met. They’d simply lay in bed with no will to survive, waiting as their body gave up on life. It was once believed that the dark side was haunted by vengeful spirits, though modern science put the blame on Herdless Depressive Disorder combined with the harsh physical toll of living in such an inhospitable environment.
Someone with a herd could stave off death’s embrace for quite a while longer, up to months. Many on the twilight edge lived this way, dipping in and out of the darkness as their job demanded. However, they knew not to stay for too long; even with the warmth of companionship, the dark side of Venlil prime claimed all eventually. Life was impossible without light.
​
How fortunate then, that the USS Washington was flooded with light. A light like a ghostly lantern, darting through the hallways and crawling through obscure corners of the ship to come back covered in sludge. A light like a burning star, which filled their hearts with warmth every time it closed in for an embrace. The light of hope; what a strange twist of fate that it would take the form of an Arxur.
---
[First] [Previous]

I’m mad that she thought that was ok to say. It wasn’t mean spirited, she said that I also seem happy and good for me. She older than me and we know each other from a 12 step program. I normally run into her every couple weeks or so. I know she wasn’t trying to hurt my feelings and she doesn’t know that my body image is something I have issues with. But still, I would never say such a thing so I don’t get it. I told my friend what happened after and she said that when she had seen me across the room she was actually thinking the opposite. It doesn’t matter if I’ve gained or lost in the last couple weeks since I accidentally messed up my scale (so I really don’t know) just that people notice such minor changes and feel it’s appropriate to say it out loud to my face. It affirms the voice telling me to get really sick. I just want to be functional and normal and be able to focus and enjoy my life without obsessing over numbers.

Chapter 1 - Stranger
When Daglan woke up that morning he didn't see anything unusual. He had awoken from a drop of water falling from the ceiling as he did many mornings. His best friend Rozere was in the kitchen with her father cooking what smelled of eggs. The sun was shining through the cracks in the curtains and holes in the walls as it always did. What felt different? Then he heard voices outside, voices that grew louder and louder. At this point Rozere and her father Koshu had heard the commotion as well and stepped outside to see what it was. Daglan hastily followed suit, after finding his tunic and boots.
Lying on the ground outside was a young man, no older than 25. He lay face up in the dirt wearing only baggy purple pants and a black conical hat covering his face. His long black hair seemed to be tied at the base of his head in a long spiky ponytail, his slender muscular body was covered in dozens of battle scars, and at his waist was a black katana with its sword tied firmly inside its sheath. Almost the entire town had crowded around him, murmuring and shifting anxiously. It wasn't often people arrived in town, mostly just traders on their way to and from Inoris, and that too was a rarity.
"Back now people, give this man some room! And for the love of Reza, quiet!" Barked Doc Silvis as she pushed through the crowd. She immediately knelt down and felt his neck with her fingers. She paused for a moment and gave a very annoyed sigh, slapping away his hat. "He's alive alright. This dumbass is sleeping in the street." She gave the stranger a hard slap across the face, one that would have probably knocked him out, had he been awake. The crowd watched in awe as he yawned and scratched his nose, barely affected by Silvis.
"What should we do?" Someone asked.
"Do you know who he is?" Asked another.
As the murmurs heighted Daglan could tell Silvis was getting fired up, over the years Daglan had gotten to know Silvis quite well, with all his escapades outside the town walls. Daglan knew better than anyone that Silvis hated when a patient ignored her, and more so when she had to repeat herself.
"I said quiet! Don't you lazy bums have more important things to do?! Livani! Koreso! Aren't you two on watch?! Scram the lot of you!" A wave of fear crashed down upon the crowd and everyone began to disperse. All but Daglan, as Rozere pulled on his sleeve.
"Come on Daglan," she hissed, keeping an eye on Silvis like she was some wild animal, "You don't want to make her angrier."
"I'll be fine," he whispered, without looking back, his eyes stuck on the sleeping man. What was this feeling? It was like the feeling he got when Silvis healed his wounds, but not as warm. Almost closer to the feeling he got when abominations were near, when he ventures past the walls, but not as malicious. Before he knew it he was kneeling next to Silvis, watching her run her hand across his body, her hands glowing faintly, his curiosity bubbling.
"He isn't cursed or hypnotized, I can't feel a single thing wrong with him. I do believe this man is really just asleep, and slept through a slap in the face." Silvis sighed. After a few moments she looked at Daglan with a tired smile, then frowned. "Thanks for being quite Daglan, now since you're gonna bum around, get to work hauling this bastard back to my infirmary and don't let him out of your sight. I want to know as soon as he wakes up."
Daglan looked around to ask Rozere for help but she was already gone, how long had he been watching this stranger and Silvas? He looked down at the smiling, snoring face of the stranger, scooped under his arms, and with much difficulty began dragging the older, bigger boy to the infirmary.
The infirmary was quiet today, there hadn't been a major abomination attack in quite a few weeks which didn't happen often. It wasn't long before Rozere came in with a grimace on her face and her fingers on her nose.
"Honestly," she said in that strange nasally voice when you hold your nose, "I hate how much time you make me spend here. Between you getting hurt and my dad making me help Silvas, I can't get away!" She plopped down next to him and sighed. "So what's with this guy? Why are you still here with him?"
"Silvas asked me to watch him and tell her when he wakes up. Apparently I can't let him leave till she talks to him." He shrugged, trying more to convince himself. She eyed him suspiciously, but immediately dropped the subject.
"Did you notice his sword was tied closed? I wonder what that's about?" She reached out and placed a hand on his sword, and just then the weird energy the stranger gave off changed from similar to those of the abominations , to even scarier than anything he'd ever felt from them. Rozere fell to her knees and screamed as the stranger stood over her. When had he stood up?! Daglan shot to his feet, a smile ripping across his face as excitement crackled through his body. He prepared to defend his friend, when just as quickly as the evil energy had manifested, it disappeared. In fact the feeling Daglan had been getting from the stranger had all but subsided completely.
He stared at Daglan and Rozere with a confused look. When Rozere had eventually stopped screaming, Daglan held out his hand to help her up. Daglan’s mind raced with questions but could he do nothing but stare at the stranger as he stared back.
“Uh, hello-” he began and just then Silvas and Koshu burst through the door with Livani and Koreso close behind. Koshu sprang in between Rozere and the stranger, towering over him.
"What did you do to my daughter!" He said through gritted teeth. The stranger scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth when Rozere spoke up,
"It was nothing dad, he just woke up and scared me! Look at me I'm fine, now would you stop!" But Koshu didn't flinch, not until Silvas spoke up.
"Back off Koshu, Rozere is right, she's fine, and this boy is obviously no danger at the moment." He mumbled something under his breath but did as he was told . "Yeah, listen to Silvas and not me." Rozere grumbled, crossing her arms.
"Now listen here young lady, you will show your aunt some resp–" Koshu began but Silvas smacked him in the back of the head.
"Now isn't the time, Koshu, take her and go," she glared at the stranger, who was still smiling awkwardly and scratching the back of his head.
“Everyone out, now.”
"Uh, where am I? He eventually stammered.
"Daglan, out." Silvas said forcefully, without taking her eyes off the stranger. As well as Daglan knew Silvas, he'd never seen her this worked up, not even about the abominations . She was so strong-willed, so much more than anyone else in town. He had heard stories about Silvas, but only bits and pieces around town, probably all made up. Still there was one he heard more than others, he had heard before she lived in Graybarrow she had fought in some kind of war.
Daglan sat outside the infirmary trying to hear as much as he could. Wondering what could have gotten Silvas so worried, and if that man was even human. He could barely hear anything, mostly Silvas's mumbled questioning and the nervous laughter of the stranger. As he sat and pondered, an extremely tall, wide shouldered man sat down next to him and lit a cigarette. He had a long thick mustache that covered his upper lip but came down on the sides past his chin, and scruffy brown hair that stuck up at weird angles.
"Oh, hi Mr.Lucio." Daglan said as he pretended to have not been eavesdropping.
"I haven't seen you in class," he said as he blew out a cloud of smoke, "and I don't often see you hanging around here by choice." He continued to puff his cigarette as they sat in silence.
"Mr.Lucio… I can feel him like the abominations and Silvas's healing. What is he?"
"I'm not sure, from what I've heard he sounds human enough. What do you think?"
"I don't know… I think he's human? But why can I feel him?"
"There must be something similar between him, Silvas's healing, and the abominations from the mountains and forest, hmm?"
"I guess so…" They continued to sit in silence until Lucio had finished his cigarette.
"You can always talk to me if you need help, Daglan. You may like getting experience more, but a little book learning can go a long way." He stood up, pressing his cigarette out between his fingers and putting the butt in his pocket. "It's always good to see you, don't be a stranger." He said as he waved his hand walking away. Daglan thought about what Lucio had proposed, something similar. It didn't seem like Silvas or the stranger would be coming out soon so Daglan decided to go home and see what Rozere thought about all this.
When he did get home both Rozere and Koshu were in foul moods, having most likely fought since earlier. Deciding that he'd rather not be part of that, he grabbed his bag and scurried out the front door before Kusho had time to notice.
It's a short walk to the gate, the guards had patched up his last hole in the wall, but he had since come up with another, more thrilling way. Climbing up to the top of the traders hall, he'd be high enough to jump to the wall once the guards had passed. Then it was a quick jump down and a sprint out of their eyesight before he was able to relax. He walked along a path he knew quite well until he came up on a small ladder, it was built into a tree that led up to a small treehouse.
His exploration headquarters as he liked to call it. The inside was small and filled with trash, and his souvenirs from his adventures sat on a roughly made table. A small Salegitti skull, a broken dagger missing its tip, and a small crystal like rock that shown with faint yellow light. Next to them were three well worn books. He picked up the book titled journal and sat on the ground, scribbling furiously with a small piece of charcoal. He then began to study the other two, older, bigger books. One titled, Abominations of Hel’s Peaks, and the other, Creatures of South Shodun. Mr Lucio was right about book learning, but he liked his own books.
Back in town Rozere was wandering around with her hands behind her head, whistling to herself. “I wonder where Daglan is?” She pondered allowed, before realizing she had stopped in front of Silvas’s office. She stared at the large building with its off-white stone, and massive steel doors. There were various cracks and dents all along the wells and doors, as well as wooden planks over the windows, Silvas called them the clinic’s battlescars, there was nowhere safer to hide in the whole town.
She stared for a long time before realizing there was a man sitting in the grass, a large bottle of alcohol in one hand, and multiple empty bottles sitting neatly by his legs. His long spiky hair was a little cleaner, and the copious amounts of drool were now wiped away. His face was a bright red, and he had a cigarette hanging from his lips. He stared at her with a slight wobble,
“Hey… You're that girl that touched my sword right?” He took another large gulp from his bottle.
“Yeah? What of it?” She asked with defiance, her hands on her hips. He smiled a sickening smile and shot to his feet faster than Rozere could see.
“Why don't you try it again? Or will you simply scream for help? Little girls shouldn’t play with monsters.” He said as he towered over her. “Go ahead.” He lifted his arm in the air so his katana was unblocked. Rozere’s knees began to shake and a lump formed in her throat but she did not look away. She was an ant, and this man was a giant. She wasn't going to back down, but he could stand faster than she could see. Surely dropping his arm even faster would be no problem right? He was right, she wanted to scream, but she stood firm.
“Maybe I will!” She returned his malicious smile and reached out for his sword as fast as she could, bracing for the impact and the horrible crunch of bones as he grabbed her arm and snapped it in half. She flinched as her nerves went off, electric sensations coursing through her fingertips. It's happened! But what she felt wasn't pain, but the hard yet somehow soft grip of a katana hilt. She opened her eyes to see her hand firmly gripping his katana and a much more playful smile somehow even wider across this strange man’s face. He began to laugh loudly as she stumbled backwards and fell. He held out his hand, still giggling a little. She eyed him hard then after a moment smacked his hand away. She stood up, and began to brush herself off, glaring at him all the while. He apologized in between giggles.
“My name is Noboru, you've got quite the spirit to face me down. What's your name kid?” He asked as he sat back onto the grass and took another long swig from his bottle. Rozere straightened up and looked at him with a fiery gaze.
“Rozere of Grayborrow.” She said, crossing her arms. “And you dont scare me!”
“What are you yelling about Rozere?” Silvas asked as she appeared behind her. “You!” she exclaimed as she saw Noboru “Where did you get all of that from!? Rozere give me a hand and throw away these bottles would you?”
“She's already gone.” Noboru giggled. Silvas spun around to see that Rozere had indeed disappeared, as Noboru began to laugh louder. Rozere could hear the slap from across town as she sat against the traders hall. As she pondered just how big a lump must be on the side of Noboru's face, a ball smacked her’s.
“Hey who did that!?” She demanded as she hoped to her feat, tears forming in her eyes, which she quickly wiped away.
“Oh, sorry Rozere! I didn't mean to! Honest!” Said the boy as he ran up and grabbed his ball off the ground before the evil Rozere could kick it away, her foot swishing in the air. The boy was a few years younger than Rozere, had shaggy blonde hair, a tunic that was two sizes too big for him and a pair of round glasses broken in several spots.
“You better be sorry, pipsqueak!” she said, wiping her eyes and now running nose. “I'll have to beat you up if not!”
“Come on give Vilcus a break he said sorry. What are you doing over here by yourself anyways? Daglan run away again?” Said another girl with little blonde pigtails and red cheeks, as she came up behind Vilcus.
“Hi Meska and no he didn't run away again.” Rozere said, sticking her tongue out. “I just think he went for a walk is all… he'll be back… soon!” She crossed her arms and held her chin up. “Well why don't you come play with us until he gets back?” Meska asked, turning around and walking away, “We are playing dodgeball, maybe you can hit Vilcus in the face.”
“Hey nuh-uh! She won't hit me!” Vilcus persisted as he followed after her. Rozere sniffled, rubbed her nose with her sleeve, and smiled.
“Okay fine, but wait up!” She yelled.

As Daglan walked through the trees, he could feel the malicious energies from abominations all around him, it was making his blood boil. He remembered the stranger looking down at him and Rozere, overflowing with the most malicious intent he had ever felt. A smile began to creep across his face once more, as he could feel something close behind him. He spun around to see a creature he had only seen in books, the sight of which excited and terrified him. 

A giant humanoid creature with a long smooth snake-like torso, and grotesquely elongated arms and legs stood before him. It had a small pair of arms on its hips that bounced as if boneless, and a strange human face. Smooth indents of skin sat where the eyes should be, and it had a beak lined with razor teeth that jutted out at multiple angles. It clicked its tongue and sniffed the air then began to lick its beak with what could only be called a smile.
“What should I call you big fella?” Daglan asked nervously as excitement shot through his body. This wasn't like anything he'd ever encountered in the forest, or during attacks. This creature was much more dangerous. He gritted his teeth and forced an equally disgusting smile, even though he was sure the abomination couldn't see him. He pulled out the dagger he had smithed in secret at Koshu’s forge and dropped his stance lower, lower, lower. The creator was clicking and sniffing in anticipation, no doubt it could feel Daglan’s bloodlust.
Daglan took a slow step forward, then another. The creature's head tilted and it sniffed harder, then in a flash that Daglan couldn’t even see, it lashed out, slashing his shoulder apart. Adrenaline had already made its way to Daglan’s brain and he didn't even feel the warm blood soaking into his tunic or notice his limp arm flailing behind him as he attacked. He rolled under the creature’s arm and slashed at its ribs ripping its open sending its guts pouring out. It screamed in pain and whirled around, but its tall body and long arms whizzed over Daglan’s head. He rolled again, this time in between its legs, slashing at its knee, cutting down to the bone. It screamed again and fell to its knees with a gross squishy thud from one. It twitched and spazzed as it began twisting its body around in a disgusting manner.
Daglan approached cautiously, but the adrenaline had worn off and he looked down at his arm. It was almost completely blue, and the little skin and bone that held his arm to his body squirted copious amounts of blood. There was a blur then he was flying through the brush stopping when he thudden into a tree. His eyes began to blur with red, then black. The last thing he heard was a familiar voice...
“You are by far the most interesting of the bunch. Hey, can you hear me?”
When Deglan awoke he was looking at a ceiling he knew all too well. In a bed he had awoken in many times. But this time he couldn't move. “Silvas! What's happening?! Silvas! Rozere!” Daglan began to thrash when he heard that same voice.
“Hey hey hey! You're going to hurt yourself more than you already have!” When standing over him, blocking the light with his conical hat, was the stranger. “That was a nasty creature you were tangling with out there. I heard you like to fight but I'm guessing you've never seen a lasari before? Ugly things, and not easy to kill with small weapons if you don't know how.”
“I do know how.” Daglan said matter of factly, “They have two brains located behind the eye sockets.”
“Oh-ho-ho,” the stranger smiled maliciously, “ but how do you stop them from reproducing after that?” Daglan went silent for a moment. “What do you mean?"
“Lasari have a fun ability to reproduce from their corpse. Specifically, their heart has two eggs inside that will hatch if it ever stops beating. So to properly kill one you must burn the heart.” He laughed and presumably sat back down, out of Daglan’s eyesight. There was a slight pause and Daglan was about to speak when he heard a gasp and the stranger continued.
“Anyway, you almost lost your arm. Luckily, your doctor and blacksmith were able to fix you up, those two are something else. It'll take some time for your bo-” Daglan cut him off.
“What do you mean I almost lost my arm?! What did they do to me?!” He exclaimed, thrashing, memories of his broken and bleeding arm flashing through his mind.
“If you don't calm down, I will calm you down.” He said forcefully. “I hate babies. I thought you were supposed to be a tough kid? Now anyways it's just me and you here, everyone else is asleep, so please. I know you've heard of the metal prosthetics of this country, Metics, I think they're called? I’ve seen people in town with them. Well your blacksmith had to help your doctor make you a new shoulder.”
“So why are you being so helpful? I don't know you, and you feel the same as an abomination.” “See it's things like that!” He shot back up his face noticeably red.
“You're so interesting! I don't remember how I got here…” He scratched his head for a second, “but boy have I had fun since I've shown up!” Your girlfriend Rozere-”
“She's not my girlfriend, and you leave her alone!” He shouted.
“Well she's fearsome! And you’re so interesting too! Definitely the best five year o-”
“I’m twelve. Rozere is thirteen.”
“Well twelve then. Point is, I like you and your little girly friend, so I thought I'd help out and not let you die.” Then it dawned on Daglan, there was no way a search party found him like when he normally gets in a scap and passes. He had thoroughly lost and was deep in the woods. By all accounts he should be dead. Daglan was so angry he hadn't even thought about what happened afterwards.
“It was you. So what do you want from me? Are you some abomination loo-” This time the stranger cut him off.
“My name is Noboru, the handyman.”
“I've never heard of that species.”
“Well I'm not an abomination, I'm a jack-of-all-trades, so to speak. I travel from place to place making money doing odd jobs. Anyways, you remind me an awful lot of someone I used to know. So don't go throwing your life away against such low level trash as the abominations around here.” Daglan began to feel the intimidating malice from Noboru, almost that of when Rozere had touched his sword. “I know you can feel my energy. Unlike the people of this town, save a few, I think you're gifted.” Then it was gone just as quickly as before. “What do you want, Daglan.” Daglan’s blood was fire and his eyes daggers, piercing the ceiling with determination.
“I want to be remembered.”
“So get out of this town and maybe one day you can fight me, and I’m not even the strongest out there. Come… show this world what you're… made of because I for one… can't wait.” Just then Daglan heard a thud followed by an endless cascade of snores from Noboru.
“Would someone get me out of here!”

Spring is helping me stay alive. Today, in spirit, power threw me back, said I lacked sufficient faith in the Christian message, the good capitalist, the proper bread winner – not me! – though it’s been a lob that’s been airborne for the better part of a year. About a year ago, the spirit who makes things go, said aloha, and I went: is this what a trans-historical extinction event sounds like up close? These breathy sighs? Long goodbyes? The lighter-than-air craft keeping power aloft are flirting with acrobatics, and we were all outside, watching the rain fall, which turns out to be a sunny day, water made of light. Spring is helping me stay alive – what generosity spring bestows. Power threw me back, said thanks for the chat, last man standing picks up the check, let’s order wings and veg, be angels who haven’t the stomach for industry, spines for finance. Today, my attention was directed to the fruiting of peppers, the sprouting of eggplants, and my heart feels like a butterfly garden, which turns out to be my hope in the future, nectaries that end suffering, flirt with aeronautics. Today, for the first time in more than a decade, I got my hair cut by someone who cared about me as a human being. Our 40-min session went twice that, and as we talked – about emotional haircuts, residential streets without sidewalks, and the cosmic expanse – I whispered thank you to her every few minutes, mostly under my breath, which stands for those who stop to assess the speed of clouds, their direction, clouds made of data uncollected. My haircut urges me to feel like a member of a species, a generosity both cozy and emancipating, and I walk home freer than before, thanking all the queer people I know for being present in the world. Spring is helping me stay alive. My haircut today was neat and casual – one of those haircuts that parked cars in a previous life, engenders confidence in the drivers off to see a show, which stands for the stillness of all that is not the soul. The scent of it is benevolence reimagined, and I consider the ways next-haircuts send us further up the road, the braid, the knotted circumference of the world. Once, I did wander out of sight, till the sound of my voice triggered smoke alarms, and the clip-clop of my footsteps stopped me in my tracks. What a pickle! What a bog! Then power threw me back. See more of reality than your needs in relation to it – what I called back to power just before I hit the water, supposedly sank without a trace, which is the nature of the dusk, colors on a wheel – we all know it’s the earth’s rotation.

Hey All,
I'm actually a winemaker, but figure the brewers have a lot of expertise in this area. Some beers must have residual sugar in them, and I'm wondering how brewers prevent that from causing problems once canned/bottled. How do you all avoid a refermentation in can/bottle? I know that a "finished" fermentation should mean the yeast consumed all the sugar they can, but I doubt thats 100% true, and at risk of fermentation re-igniting.
For context, I'm trying to figure out if its possible to bottle a carbonated wine with Residual Sugar thats ~10% ABV without it restarting fermentation and blowing up.

hello guys, I'm trying to play forza horizon 4 on linux but I can't, I downloaded 3 different downloads from pitatbay but so far I haven't been able to run it, I installed wine, lutris and heroic, followed more or less videos from youtube but I couldn't , I'm new to linux, I use openSUSE, I know there's a way, I just don't know how to do it, could someone give me a tip on how I could play ForzaHorizon 4?

If I have to pick any character out of the many in FairyTail, I will always choose Lucy. Lucy never fails to make my love for FairyTail grow with every panel, episode, or fan art she is involved in.
She may not be the strongest character but I love her and will continue to love her every single day of my life. I really enjoy watching her develop and I hope she continues to do so in the future.
My favorite part of FairyTail is when Lucy has to give up Aquarius in the Tartaros arc and gains her Star dress ability. I really felt like that was a huge turning point and I was happy she got something that really sets her apart from other Celestial Wizards as well as reflected her relationship with the Celestial spirit world and the Celestial Spirit King himself.
Star Dresses have not been explained.. Until this chapter. Lucy describes it as “Turning the spirits’ magic into dresses.”
I have always imagined Star Dresses to be something gained through Lucy’s connection with the Spirits. Lucy has a long family history of Celestial Wizards, she holds the majority of the Zodiac keys and has meaningful relationships with all her spirits, she has enough magic power to summon three spirits at once, she has sacrificed Aquarius’ key and summoned the king, and she has been to the Celestial Spirit world before.
If someone were to gain the Star dress ability, who is better suited than Lucy?
Yukino is a talented Celestial Mage, however, she does not deserve the Star Dress. It disappoints me that she was given it.
I know that she doesn’t have that many keys to begin with, and that she still isn’t able to combine dresses, however, this was Lucy’s ability. Her unique thing.
I have never been in favor of Yukino receiving the Star Dress ability. I have always thought it to be a symbol of Lucy’s sacrifice. A reward given to her. Yukino receiving the Star dress makes it less significant. On top of that, it even downplays Lucy’s efforts. Yukino is able to immediately Star dress with that simple line from Lucy. It took Lucy a year to be able to do it.
What did Yukino give? What did she Sacrifice?
I hope this is just a temporary buff, and she can only do it around Lucy.
Thank you for reading my selfish rant, I welcome all other thoughts and opinions.

I want to be somebody so much greater than myself, but it seems a far away dream.
I want to be more active for a multitude of reasons, including to develop self-discipline and improve my health. I already go to the gym six days a week but I feel like I can/should do more.
I want to be more confident and surely the gym/exercise will help with that; but I just want to radiate joy to those around me. This’ll hopefully surround me with good Christian friends and a good Christian woman.
I want to be in a place where I can give more. I’m quite poor at the moment and wracked with anxiety, so donating money or time is currently a bit tough.
I am a terrible sinner, and I know that’s holding me back. I need God’s strength, but I haven’t been relying on it as much I should have been. However, I can feel his spirit living in me. He has not abandoned me, thanks be to God.
I’m so far from being who I want to be, it seems like a far away dream; but I will get there some day. I just wanted to share some thoughts in one of the places I can.

Well, from those interacting me, you know that I'm a relatively staunch constitutional monarchist (with some patcon(?) leanings), a minority on this sub to say the least. I'm not gonna ignite that debate today. But the debate and differences DID give me interest on other hypothetical models of governance, seeing as this sub seems to have become more democratic (some might say, populist) over technocratic or meritocratic ideals in recent years. What are YOUR favourite alternate forms of governance?
Here's 2 of mine that gave me reason to think about democracy, one based on education and another on public service. Feel free to tear them apart as well, as these might be considered ontologically illiberal.
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"The Curious Republic of Gondour" by Mark Twain presents a unique governmental structure. Initially, the nation tried universal suffrage, but it was discarded due to unsatisfactory results, as it seemed to deliver all power into the hands of the ignorant and non-tax-paying classes. The solution was not to limit suffrage but to expand it. The constitution gave every man a vote, which was a vested right and could not be taken away. However, it did not specify that certain individuals might not be given two votes, or ten.
An amendment was inserted that authorized the enlargement of suffrage in certain cases specified by statute. This led to a new law under which every citizen, regardless of their wealth or education, possessed one vote. However, a good common-school education gave a man two votes, a high-school education gave him four, and a university education entitled a man to nine votes. Property also played a role in the number of votes a person could have. For every fifty thousand 'sacos' a man added to his property, he was entitled to another vote.
This system created a sort of emulation, where a man was honored according to the number of votes he possessed. Votes based on capital were called "mortal" votes because they could be lost, while those based on learning were called "immortal" because they were permanent. This system almost eliminated gambling and speculation in the republic, as a man with great voting power could not afford to risk losing it.
The system also influenced social interactions, with people showing more respect to those with more votes. This spirit of emulation invaded all ranks, and it was common to hear people admiring men who had begun life on the lower levels and achieved great voting power.
The system also influenced the selection of officials. Competitive examinations were the rule in all official grades, and a candidate for office must have marked ability, education, and high character, or he stood no chance of election. The country was mainly governed by a ministry which went out with the administration that created it. The head of the government, the Grand Caliph, was elected for a term of twenty years and was liable to impeachment for misconduct.
The pardoning power was lodged in a court of pardons, consisting of several great judges. Education was also highly valued, with plenty of free schools and colleges. The amount of education a child acquired could make him powerful and honored, so parents were motivated to ensure their children were educated.
In summary, the governmental structure of Gondour was based on an expanded suffrage system where education and property determined the number of votes a person had. This system aimed to balance power between the educated and the wealthy, and it encouraged personal development and integrity.
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We all know that Heinlein's Terran Federation of Starship Troopers is a shorthand for, if not directly fascism, it's inbred brother, nationalistic militarism. But let's discuss it anyway, which I found is rather close to the Pre-Caracalla Roman concepts of citizenship. It might be some personal spin, but I refer to it as a "qualified democracy" rather than a limited one.
In the Federation of Heinlein, there is a difference between the civilian (who I'll refer to as a national) and the citizen. However, a national is still able to participate in society, if not in governance - case in point, Juan Rico's family had a history of decades without Federal Service, but still ran a business. For national to be franchised into a citizen, they must participate in two years of Federal Service of their own free will.
In Heinlein's idea, when he rebutted the idea that when only veterans of military service have franchise in his hypothetical Federation: “Veteran” does not mean in English dictionaries or in this novel solely a person who has served in military forces. I concede that in commonest usage today it means a war veteran…but no one hesitates to speak of a veteran fireman or a veteran school teacher. In STARSHIP TROOPERS it is stated flatly and more than once that nineteen out of twenty veterans are not military veterans. Instead, 95% of voters are what we call today “former members of federal civil service.”
I'll let the novel speak its rationale for itself:
"Throughout history, men have laboured to place the sovereign franchise in hands that would guard it well and use it wisely, for the benefit of all. [...] Historic examples range from absolute monarch to utter anarchy; mankind has tried thousands of ways and many more have been proposed, some weird in the extreme [...] . But the intent has always been moralistic: to provide stable and benevolent government.
"All systems seek to achieve this by limiting franchise to those who are believed to have the wisdom to use it justly. I repeat 'systems’; even the so-called ‘unlimited democracies’ excluded from franchise not less than one-quarter of their populations by age, birth, poll tax, criminal record, or other."
[...] "I have never been able to see how a thirty-year-old moron can vote more wisely than a fifteen-year-old genius... but that was the age of the ‘divine right of the common man. [...] The sovereign franchise has been bestowed by all sorts of rules — a place of birth, family of birth, race, sex, property, education, age, religion, et cetera. All these systems worked and none of them well. All were regarded as tyrannical by many, all eventually collapsed or were overthrown. [...] Why? Not because our voters are smarter than other people; we’ve disposed of that argument. Mr. Tammany can you tell us why our system works better than any used by our ancestors?"
"Uh, I’d venture to guess that it’s because the electors are a small group who know that the decisions are up to them... so they study the issues."
"No guessing, please; this is an exact science. And your guess is wrong. The ruling nobles of any other system were a small group fully aware of their grave power. Furthermore, our franchised citizens are not everywhere a small fraction; you know or should know that the percentage of citizens among adults ranges from over eighty per cent on Iskander to less than three per cent in some Terran nations yet the government is much the same everywhere. Nor are the voters picked men; they bring no special wisdom, talent, or training to their sovereign tasks. So what difference is there between our voters and wielders of franchise in the past? [...] I’ll state the obvious: Under our system, every voter and officeholder is a man who has demonstrated through voluntary and difficult service that he places the welfare of the group ahead of personal advantage. And that is the one practical difference. He may fail in wisdom, he may lapse in civic virtue. But his average performance is enormously better than that of any other class of rulers in history."
Major Reid paused to touch the face of an old-fashioned watch, "reading" its hands. "The period is almost over and we have yet to determine the moral reason for our success in governing ourselves. Now continued success is never a matter of chance. Bear in mind that this is science, not wishful thinking; the universe is what it is, not what we want it to be.
To vote is to wield authority; it is the supreme authority from which all other authority derives — such as mine to make your lives miserable once a day. Force, if you will! [...] Whether it is exerted by ten men or by ten billion, political authority is force. But this universe consists of paired dualities. What is the converse of authority? Mr. Rico."
He had picked one I could answer. "Responsibility, sir."
"Applause. Both for practical reasons and for mathematically verifiable moral reasons, authority and responsibility must be equal — else a balancing takes place as surely as current ‘flows between points of unequal potential. To permit irresponsible authority is to sow disaster; to hold a man responsible for anything he does not control is to behave with blind idiocy. Unlimited democracies were unstable because their citizens were not responsible for the fashion in which they exerted their sovereign authority... other than through the tragic logic of history. The unique ‘poll tax’ that we must pay was unheard of. No attempt was made to determine whether a voter was socially responsible to the extent of his literally unlimited authority. If he voted the impossible, the disastrous possible happened instead — and responsibility was then forced on him willy-nilly and destroyed both him and his foundationless temple."
"Superficially, our system is only slightly different; we have democracy unlimited by race, color, creed, birth, wealth, sex, or conviction, and anyone may win sovereign power by a usually short and not too arduous term of service — nothing more than a light workout to our cave-man ancestors. [...] Since the sovereign franchise is the ultimate in human authority, we ensure that all who wield it accept the ultimate in social responsibility — we require each person who wishes to exert control over the state to wager his own life — and lose it, if need be — to save the life of the state. The maximum responsibility a human can accept is thus equated to the ultimate authority a human can exert. Yin and yang, perfect and equal."
"Analogy is always suspect, but that one is close to the facts. [...] Time for one more question — you ask it and I’ll answer. Anyone?"
"Uh, sir, why not go — well, go the limit? Require everyone to serve and let everybody vote?"
"Young man, can you restore my eyesight?"
"Sir? Why, no, sir!"
"You would find it much easier than to in still moral virtue — social responsibility — into a person who doesn’t have it, doesn’t want it, and resents having the burden thrust on him. This is why we make it so hard to enrol, so easy to resign. Social responsibility above the level of family, or at most of tribe, requires imagination — devotion, loyalty, all the higher virtues — which a man must develop himself; if he has them forced down him, he will vomit them out. Conscript armies have been tried in the past."

I have been blamed for being sick for so long.
Please show me where I’ll find that it is my fault for being sick and that Yahweh will heal me 100% if I somehow muster up the “full amount” of faith.
And if EVERY ailment is caused by “spirits” then show that to.
He has healed me over time and I know he does heal, I just don’t know if it’s in his plan for me to wipe out these illnesses totally and completely in this life.
((Was Timothy constantly having stomach issues because he lacked faith??? What about cerebral palsy and things like that??))