#solid state shared hosting

[endreal]

my spouse took it upon theirself to sell the ps4 and buy a blue ray player and roku since we never actually play games on it and had a buyer on craigslist within literal hours of posting. which means there's been (and continues to be) a lag between the removal of the source of media, and the replacement media sources. and in the meantime what have they committed to doing?

watching broadcast television.

now I've never been a huge TV person - when my younger sibling and I were kids we had a very clearly defined TV sharing schedule, in which I would watch whatever I wanted whenever it was on unless my sibling wanted to watch something else in which case Endreal was shit outta luck. by my mid teens it was just easier not to be interested in TV shows. but this new experiment of my spouse's has shown me three significant things from the last time I was watching broadcast TV with any regularity -

first, there's a lot of shit out there, and like 80% of it appears to be reruns of stuff I ended up never seeing in the 90s and 00s.

second, commercials are worse. like the quality of commercials is worse, and also there are more of them. I remember when a primetime drama on broadcast TV was ~47 minutes accounting for ad breaks and now new stuff seems to be keyed to roughly 42? that's basically 36 seconds of ads for every 2 minutes of programming! is youtube even that bad yet? genuine question - I exclusively use an ad blocker so I have no idea. and on top of that I've witnessed a nefariously sneaky thing - end of episode split screen with the credits running on one half and another ad running on the other half.

third, PBS (we currently live in the US) is solid gold. like yes the programming seems to be all over the place and I have no idea what the rhyme or rhythm of it is but it's so cool that I got to a) learn facts about ospreys from a cartoon guy in a hummingbird suit, b) watch a vegan cooking programme hosted by a woman who was charmingly annoying in a way that seems uniquely achievable only by Italian-Americans, and c) a bipartisan discussion of local current events including a proposed teacher pay bill being discussed by the legislature of the state I live in. and all in the same day!

basically, broadcast TV is weird, idk how much I like it, and in spite of that if you live in the US and have a few bucks to spare please consider supporting your local public broadcasters!

[vasito-de-leche]

a little prompt, if you don’t mind

what about mercenary!reader and symbiote!Pavia? it’s just Pavia’s ult/wolves kinda remind me of Venom and i think it would be fun to imagine him being something like Venom

;R1999 PAVIA - "under your skin"

Symbiote!Pavia x Mercenary!Reader 2.5k words body horror What you and Pavia have is nothing more than transactional—you need him to make a living, and he needs you alive to ensure a comfortable life. It's taken some time to get used to these changes, to share everything you have with him for the sake of convenience: your home, your food, your job. And most importantly, your body. Perfect symbiosis, or dysfunctional parasitism? You've yet to figure out where you two stand. One thing is clear, though; he's the best at getting under your skin.

i just want you to know that this prompt speaks to MY SOUL bc i love venom and pavia so fucking much. you dont understand how hard i think about the concept of a symbiotic relationship between symbiote and host. so I went extremely self-indulgent with this one <3

as usual, this is written to be read as platonic or romantic, whatever floats your boat!

Bang!

A clean kill.

The only reason you watch as the body drops to the ground is out of respect for the work you do, nothing else. You've done this a dozen times, and you will do it a dozen more -- the gun in your hand has become a reliable friend rather than a tool for mindless murder, its familiar weight a fleeting comfort in the tedious routine. A shame it came from the most annoying person you know.

Screaming ensues as everyone surrounding your target runs around in panic. You remain, eyes locked on the target. When someone moves their body, attempting to cradle that lifeless corpse, you see it; a bullet right between their eyebrows, the perfect shot.

You feel a tug, but it comes from within your chest cavity. Something squirms inside you, pulling you back, and you understand this as your cue to slide back into the shadows. It begins with a single step backwards, then another, until you feel the texture under your shoes shift -- what was once solid ground is now a dark, velvety mass, floating upwards and fading away like smoke. It licks at your ankles, providing an initially cold sensation that permeates your clothes, and then it continues upwards to your calves, your knees, your thighs. The gun slowly dissolves into slime, taking the shape of what you assume to be a hand, horrible and sticky fingers intertwined with yours, pulling you downwards.

By then, you feel that burning sensation, and then you're dragged into the abyss.

"That was a lousy shot."

A voice echoes in your mind, it is not your own. It feels like a thousand ants marching alongside your cranium. Or rather, what you assume to be your cranium -- in this current state, you can't separate yourself from the embrace of the void. The voice might as well reverberate all around you.

You scoff and insist. No, it was a perfect shot.

"Perfect my ass. You were off by 2 centimeters," the biting remark makes you clench your jaw. You don't reply. The voice does the same, it remains still, only a semblance of white noise, but you understand its silence as a smug victory.

Suddenly, vertigo takes hold of you. It only happens for a split second, always unannounced, but you know better than to brace yourself. Doing so, as you've learned, would only make you nauseous, dizzy and weak -- instead, you let go and the shadows gently coax you back into the light before dissipating in the air.

You find yourself in front of your apartment door, an odd and anticlimactic way of ending a productive day. What, no snack run today?

"Not feeling it today. So you either open the door on your own, or I'll do it myself. Get a move on."

Some of these threats tend to hold more water than others, but more often than not, they're just empty words and loud, useless barking. And so you've learned to ignore them all -- however, you feel a faint prodding inside your back pocket, like a tentacle in search of something. Right, your keys. The roll of your eyes and the slowness in your movements are the only means of rebellion you have against this annoying entity in your head, it continues to breathe down your neck, impatient as ever, until the door opens and you step into your safe haven.

"Finally! Guess there's some activity in that brain dead head of yours."

You're forced to make a bee-line for the kitchen and the fridge, puppeteered by a force much more stronger, much more ancient than every insignificant emotion you've ever felt: the damn parasite inside of you is hungry.

As you both scan the leftovers -- your leech of a roommate seeing through your eyes, smelling through your nose -- the voice returns, this time in a more playful tone, less grating than before.

"Scusi, what's with the silent treatment today?" You bite the inside of your cheek and it laughs at you. "Don't tell me, wolf got your tongue? Are you mad that I saw right through your poor, shitty technique?"

A suffocating presence crawls inside you, starting from somewhere below your rib cage and making its way upwards through your esophagus and trachea, shifting until you feel the prodding of cold, slimy fingers in your mouth. They are tasteless and you can still breathe, your body not even bothering to perceive this as an obstruction or an intruding force that must be coughed and spat out. They are careless in their movements, pinching the tip of your tongue and pushing against your clenched teeth in an attempt to get you to open up.

And the worst part is that this is nothing but a mocking gesture, you've come to understand this over the years. To you, this is no different than someone poking at your sides, childishly asking for your attention. You obediently open, enough for a single digit to slip out, one you recognize as the middle finger. It presses down on your lower lip.

And then you bite down, hard.

It dissipates instantly, it is absorbed back into your body through every inch of skin it makes contact with. There is a new sound in the back of your mind, one you weren't quite expecting. Your parasite laughs, amused, no trace of that usual condescending tone.

"Good, you still know how to use that petty mouth of yours. I don't have to worry about teaching you how to chew down your food."

This makes you stand up straight, turning your head and glaring at an empty space, where you assume this presence would manifest if it chose to stop taking residence in your body, "I'm not eating while you're still in there. If you want dinner, then get out."

There is a beat, a momentary silence. You don't give the parasite any time to bargain, "I'm serious. Use your own damn mouth if you're so hungry. I already have to do everything on my own, I'm not going to start spoon feeding you, too!"

The reply comes out faster than you expected.

"Fine."

For a moment, your vision doubles and your body feels like it's being painlessly torn apart. For a moment, you have two sets of eyes, two sets of arms, two sets of legs and two minds. You are both yourself and him, simultaneously. It is like someone is cutting your soul in half, shoving each part into two different bodies.

It is over in the blink of an eye, and there is a presence looming behind you, made from the same material that took you here, the same material that often travels in your veins and every other crevice, nook and cranny available between your organs and bones. The lights of your apartment flicker, and you take notice of his shadow cast over you.

His predatory gaze burns holes in the back of your head, and in the stillness of it all, you hear his steps, the sound his leather pants and the shifting of his shirt fabric as he steps closer -- until you feel his chest against your back. An arm slides into view, closing the door to the fridge and resting there, preventing you from escaping. It is decorated with all the useless, silver jewelry he's taken from your targets, a hand covered with tattoos you've often traced with your very own fingers in the past.

Oddly enough, you do not feel like prey. Not anymore. Your instinct tells you that you should, but truth be told, you could not care less. Especially when you feel his chin dig into the top of your head, his weight pressing lazily on you.

"…But in exchange, I'm cooking tonight. You got 10 seconds to get outta here." He shifts, and his cheek nuzzles into you as he yawns, like he's ready to move on from this conversation.

"Huh?" You slide from under him, finally looking at the parasite concealing as a man -- one you recognize as the bane of your existence, Pavia. "Uh, like hell I'm trusting you with the food! I've seen the stuff you put on your pizza."

"Like you're one to talk! You add too much salt to everything you make. If you wanted to ruin your liver, you should've just let me eat it from day one. 5 seconds left before I throw you out. C'mon."

"Do you even know how to cook? Any actual recipes that don't require winging everything?"

"Does pasta with a side of 'mind your fucking business or I'll make us eat rat poison' sound good to you?"

"I swear if you put anything funny in the food--…"

"Time's up. Out!" Pavia picks you up, manhandles you even, and tosses you out into the living room. As soon as you land on the couch, the door to the kitchen closes and you're left all alone.

It's easy to forget that you have no fucking clue as to who or what Pavia even is.

No last name, no records, no personal information at all. You've touched him before—he looks and feels just like any other person. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn he bleeds the same way you do. But there are times when that outer layer of normalcy is peeled back just enough to remind you what you're dealing with. Sometimes, the outline of his form darkens, as if the light around him couldn't affect him in any way, and his eyes go dark, so very dark.

You've seen him in this form, unhinging his jaw to uncomfortable degrees and revealing endless sets of saw-like fangs and teeth. His nails have grown longer, thicker and sharper than expected in many occasions. You would find those on the ground, like a wild dog who has never known, let alone needed, a trimmer.

And most importantly, you've allowed him entry to every pore of your body, every piece of cartilage, every muscle, every vein.

That's when you get a small glimpse into the eldritch monstrosity living under your roof—sometimes, he's a thick fog. Sometimes, he's an oozing pile of slime. Sometimes, he's the big, bad wolf. Sometimes, you can't even understand what you're looking at when he manifests in front of you. Regardless, you're certain of something.

Pavia is darkness, eternal and haunting as the night.

He is also a huge, ungrateful, bastard.

"Hey! Where'd you leave the gelato!? This freezer's a damn mess!" His voice is heard, muffled. It doesn't carry the same cadence and weight as it does when you hear it from within your mind. He sounds more annoying, in fact.

It's a strange experience, to have him coexist right beside you as if he weren't some sort of parasite, one hair away from eating your organs. But at least like this, he cannot read your mind nor attempt to puppet your body like a moron in broad daylight. You don't answer, fully aware that he's only trying to piss you off and lure you into another argument -- as if he'd ever lose sight of his precious dessert, anyway. Instead, you busy yourself with the usual routine; finishing what is left of your work, contact your employers and whatnot.

Soon enough, the kitchen door opens and Pavia slides into the room with a single plate of warm food. You look at him, eyes wide in indignation. Oh, he wouldn't …

"Huh? What, I thought you didn't trust me to cook, so I just made something for myself. There's some leftovers from your poor excuse of a lasagna, though." The smarmy expression plastered all over his face as he licks the sauce off his spoon is unbearable, and you rush to the kitchen either to find the biggest knife to drive into his chest or to resign yourself and eat those leftovers.

And then you see it, another plate resting by the counter. Full of delicious looking pasta.

Son of a bitch.

"Bring me some of that orange juice you bought yesterday while you're in there, yeah?" Pavia never gives you time to settle down, demanding your attention and your frustration time and time again, unable to form a single coherent thought nor opinion about him.

He's annoying, that's all you've been able to figure out so far.

He's annoying, and he's made a mess out of your kitchen to cook this meal for both of you. He's annoying, and stingy when it comes to sharing his favorite snacks and desserts, but he never attempts to steal your own. He's annoying, and he offers you a power beyond your wildest dreams, to get rid of inhibition and embrace the abilities of an eldritch beast. He's annoying, and he hogs all the fucking blankets at night, planting his cold feet against your legs or back to add insult to injury.

He's annoying, and he's calling out to you once more, telling you to hurry or else you'll miss "that one stupid show" you like, that he'll switch channels if you don't sit down with him to eat. You sigh. The nerve, the hypocrisy. You know the things he likes to watch -- he has no right to criticize your taste like this.

"I'm coming, calm down! Christ …"

You notice that he never lingers nor invades any of your usual places, always picking the same spots for himself, and this is ironic in every way possible given his fickle nature. There's no doubt that as soon as you two retire for the night, Pavia will make a show out of sliding back into your body, to rest with the warmth of your blood and the soothing rhythm of your heart. And you will tell him to fuck off and sleep on the couch, reminding him of that one time he got a little too comfortable, clutching your heart in his claws, causing you to believe you were having a heart attack. Then, morning will arrive, and you will find Pavia either sprawled out or gone, but never truly leaving you alone. You will feel him, that inky slime, both cold and warm in your veins. You will go to work, and you will return home to start all over again. This is the routine, one you stopped questioning a long time ago.

This parasite who gets under your skin, both figuratively and literally, is annoying. He's annoying when he teases you, forcing you to admit that he can cook a mean pasta. He's annoying when he laughs, loud and boisterous, at those stupid moments he often criticizes in all of your favorite shows. He's annoying when he gets clingy, using you as a pillow because he can't be bothered to reach out for one of the many other pillows scattered around.

He's so very annoying when he looks at you with a curious gleam in his eyes, obviously noticing the way you've chosen to rest your head in the crook of his neck. Time stands still as you simply look at each other, as you lose yourself in those bright, sharp eyes.

You stick out your tongue at him, and Pavia blows a raspberry at you. Sure, he might be plenty annoying on his own, but together you're both insufferable and unstoppable.

[piecesofeden11]

Snippet of Perfect Rhythm, if you've got one?

Unfortunately, PR is still in the woefully unedited state I left it after NaNo23 BUT I'll happily share! Have a judge's table moment from one of the shows! With a little bit of ... drama! *jazz hands*

~*~

Threepio's voice echoed through the ballroom, as the applause died down. "That was Obi-Wan and Anakin with their Jive. Whee, what a lively performance, you two! Obi-Wan, that looked positively exhausting. How are you feeling?"

"Was that a jab at my age?", Obi-Wan asked, only half in jest, but smiled graciously for the camera, making a show of catching his breath a little more, Anakin's hand warm and steady at his back. "I'm, as you can see, a little out of breath, but thankfully, Anakin included a rigorous cardio training into this week so that could get through it without collapsing. I should say, it worked out well." He winked at the camera and the audience broke into exuberant cheers and laughter once again. Obi-Wan kept his eyes on Satine, who raised a very pointed eyebrow at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Well, well, well. I would agree. It has worked out but I'm just a humble host", Threepio tittered, the turned towards the judges table. "Let's asked the real professionals. Yoda, what did you think of this springy performance by our Team?"

"Springy it was, certainly. But a little stiff at times, hm? A little lifeless, yes? More emotion I hope to see from you next time, more you. A solid performance it was, nonetheless."

"Oooh", Threepio cooed, getting the audience to joining him in his exclamation. "Is the star sinking already? Mace, do you agree with your colleague? Was it lifeless?"

Mace Windu scowled, as he said leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Well, I wouldn't say lifeless, but I gotta say, I expected a little more. That felt like a school dance jive. Your technique was flawless and I'm glad to see you've overcome the issue of leading versus following, Obi-Wan, but I liked last week's dance better, too. This one was just a little bit too correct."

Anakin's hand on Obi-Wan's back balled into a fist again. Obi-Wan leaned into him a little more, trying to project a calm mind, while keeping his eyes focused on the last person to speak. Satine's nostrils were slightly flared, her eyes narrowed and Obi-Wan feared he may have taken it a bit too far with his earlier comment, but when Threepio addressed her with all the dressings of a royal courtier, she was perfectly cordial.

"I am with my fellow judges here. I saw an extremely well executed jive. In fact, there was not a single flaw in any of your steps and it would be remiss of me not to mention that fact." She waited indulgently as the audience graced that announcement with another round of cheers. Then she continued and Obi-Wan already knew what was coming. He wrapped his arm around Anakin's waist in a preemptive gesture of restrained and plastered his best neutral smile onto his lips. Satine's tone was equally neutral. "It lacked character. While I was watching I wondered which pairing I was judging, because nothing in your performance told me it was the both of you. I have seen the same performance a hundred times at a hundred competitions, not to mention all over social media and it was, frankly speaking, boring. I'm sure we'll be seeing you again next week, because again, technically, this was a flawless dance, but I really do urge you to bring more flair next week. Perfection gets boring very, very fast."

~*~ Please overlook any typos/grammar errors/senseless stuff ... like I said ... this is raw as a turkey!

[just-another-josh]

Kara

Today is a good day.

No, today is a great day.

Lena continued to remind herself of that over the course of the last two hours.

It was an incredibly important day for her and her wife. Not just that, it was an important day for their family’s legacy. Today was one of those milestone days, the type that signified potential fully realized, the recognition of years of hard work and achievement. A cause for celebration with champagne, victory speeches, and overindulgent parties.

Lena knew this, she believed this.

And yet, all she wanted to do right now was punch Cat Grant in her stupid, Botoxed face.

Four months ago, Cat pulled Kara aside after a CatCo staff meeting and informed her EIC that she intended to run for president in the next election. “If a Cheeto-skinned, glorified game show host can become President of the United States, I should be a shoo-in,” she had reasoned with her. In order to avoid any blind trust complications and because presidential campaigns are very expensive, Cat decided to put CatCo Worldwide Media up for sale.

Lena was greeted by an ugly-crying Kryptonian when she arrived home that night. Cat’s departure was a double blow to her wife: Not only was Kara losing her mentor, but now she had to contend with a new owner who may or may not share the same journalistic integrity as Cat. Nightmares of another Andrea Rojas or Morgan Edge-like monster lording over the bullpen kept the hero up into the early morning hours after Cat dropped her bombshell.

Lena made a solid effort to reassure her wife that everything would work out for the best but when the company was put on the market the next Monday morning, the announcement quickly led to Lena’s assurances becoming hollow promises.

By the end of the week, the bidding war for the media giant had been whittled down to three frontrunners:

Roland Daggett: owner of Daggett Industries with reported ties to organized crime in Gotham.

Simon Stagg: owner of Stagg Enterprises who was currently involved in no-less than a dozen federal investigations for improper disposal of waste generated from his chemical plants.

The final bidder was no stranger to National City or the Superfriends; Maxwell Lord: owner of Lord Technologies and an all-around asshole, who appeared to have crawled out from whatever rock he’d been hiding under.

Lena knew that none of these parasites gave a damn about the fourth estate, nor would they want Supergirl watching over their shoulders while they engaged in whatever reprehensible activities men of their caliber got up to. Lena had no doubt that they’d use CatCo to steer whatever narratives that would profit them the most; much like Morgan Edge intended to do six years prior.

Bottomline, Kara was going to be out of a job if any of those criminals got their hands on CatCo.

Kara did everything she could to talk Cat out of selling to any of them, but Cat had no other viable candidates to sell to. Kara spent the better part of ten days straight trying to get Cat to see reason but was met with failure at every turn. Lena watched Kara sink further into depression as the days passed and it broke her heart.

On day eleven, Lena had had enough of watching her wife suffer. She had Jess arrange an emergency meeting with her finance and mergers/acquisitions department heads. There was only one item of business on the agenda, did L-Corp have enough in its coffers to purchase CatCo. She knew acquiring the media giant was going to cost a lot more than it did when she stole it out from under Morgan Edge. Luckily, the answer was a resounding yes. Since regaining her position as CEO of L-Corp, Lena had led the company to an unprecedented level of profitability. A proposal was quickly drafted. The minutia of the proposal was almost identical to the last time L-Corp purchased the conglomerate, save for one big difference: Kara, not Lena, would be named CEO of CatCo Worldwide Media; not just the print media, but TV, streaming, and online content.

Proposal in hand, it took Lena the better part of the evening (and early morning) to convince her wife that she was fully capable of doing the job. Hell, she’d been doing it for the last eighteen months as Cat became less involved in the day-to-day operations. Kara’s objections to Lena spending Lena’s money to save Kara’s job were quickly shot down, “You forget darling, it’s not my money, it’s our money. We’re married, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, you dork.” Finally seeing the light, Lena sent her wife to deliver the proposal directly to Cat; it took her less than twelve hours to accept their offer and approve moving forward with the sale. To say that she was relieved that L-Corp, and by extension Lena and Kara, would be running the company that she built with her own blood, sweat, and tears would be an understatement.

Now, Lena sat in CatCo’s executive conference room. Kara seated to her right, Jess to her left, and half of L-Corp’s legal department bracketing them. On the other side of the table, Cat, and her legal team. Lena had been fortunate enough to avoid attending the negotiation meetings in person; instead choosing to have her attorneys there as her proxies. Occasionally, she’d join the proceedings remotely whenever her two cents was needed. Today, however, was the big day. All the principles needed to be on-hand to sign the final contracts. Lena was initially excited to finalize the deal; if for no other reason than to see the beaming smile her wife had been sporting all day turn brighter than the sun.

Her excitement was quickly tempered when they stepped into Kara’s office and were greeted by Cat with a “Good morning, Mrs. Luthor. Good morning, Kiera.” Lena would have done a spit-take had she been drinking anything at the time. For a moment, she tried to convince herself that she had misheard her. That theory was quickly thrown out the window when Cat called Kara “Kiera” three more times before they reached the conference room. By the time they sat at the conference table to go over the final details before signing, Lena was seething.

After taking several deep breaths and getting her blood pressure under control, Lena tried to mentally talk herself down from doing or saying anything rash. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard Cat address Kara by that name, but it was the first time that it got under her skin. Why? Hormones. She was five months pregnant with twin Kryptonian girls.

For the most part, the pregnancy had been uneventful; after the hell that was first trimester, of course. She’d adjusted to the rollercoaster of emotions, eating 15,000 calories a day to keep her and her baby girls nourished, and the near constant fatigue. Most days, she basked in the experience of being an expectant mother; the flutter of kicks throughout the day, impeccable hair and skin, an insatiable libido, and a doting wife that would fly anywhere in the world to satisfy her food cravings. Yep, without a doubt, the second trimester had been treating Lena well.

Except for today.

Today, her lower back was killing her.

Today, her ankles were obscenely swollen.

Today, the twins were using her bladder as a trampoline.

Today, she felt like a swollen, bloated, beached whale.

Today, Lena had a short fuse, and Cat had no idea how close she was coming to lighting it.

As was standard practice for Lena with all business-related deals, she insisted on reading the final contract cover-to-cover before signing. Although she trusted her legal team, she refused to agree to any contracts that she herself hadn’t personally vetted. Her lawyers had been with her long enough to take their boss’ anal retentiveness in stride, fully understanding that it did not reflect on the quality of their work. While Cat herself remained non-plussed by the delay, her attorneys did a poor job of hiding their impatience. Picking up on the tension in the room, Lena’s senior attorney suggested that both legal teams take an early lunch and after receiving nods of approval from both Lena and Cat, the two teams exited the conference room.

Shortly thereafter, Jess received a text that appeared to be of an urgent nature. After receiving an ‘OK’ from Kara to use the Kryptonian’s office, she swiftly exited.

Kara and Cat continued to make small talk while Lena scoured the sales agreement line-by-line; occasionally securing her black, thick-rimmed glasses when they inched down her nose. Reading the contract had managed to curb her murderous thoughts; allowing her to convince herself that she was overreacting to Cat’s flippant disrespect towards Kara. She reminded herself that this was something Kara found perfectly acceptable, and if the time came when her wife did have a problem, she was more than capable of speaking up for herself. Lena took a deep breath and consigned herself to let bygones be bygones and drop the matter altogether.

Until…

“So, Miss Grant, I assume that once you’re elected, you’ll be giving us an exclusive post-election interview?” Kara playfully asked.

“Now, now, Kiera. As the president-elect I am obligated to give equal time to all media outlets. I mustn’t show any favoritism,” Cat said in a patronizing tone as she waved her finger at Kara as if she were chastising a small child.

Fuse officially lit.

“Darling, I am simple starving. I could really go for a Philly cheesesteak sandwich from that place we found in mid-town,” Lena said through a strained smile; trying her best to hide the anger coursing through her veins.

“D’Elia’s?” As Lena had predicted, Kara was predictably excited by the suggestion.

Lena nodded. “Yes, that’s the one.” She locked yes with her wife for the briefest of moments before averting her gaze back to the contract in front of her.

Kara’s face shifted from excitement to suspicion quickly, now focusing intently on her wife. Lena knew the Kryptonian was probably using her enhanced senses to see or if something was up. Lena cursed herself for thinking she was going to be able to hide her agitation, knowing full well that her wife would hear her increased heart rate and her uneven breathing. Lena blushed under Kara’s scrutiny and offered up her best smile.

Kara clearly wasn’t buying it. “Nahn rraop voi?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“Ju nim voi,” Lena reassured her. She leveled Kara with a look that told her to drop it.

Appearing to take the hint, Kara subtly nodded. “Funyuns too?”

Lena stared at her wife incredulously with a raised eyebrow. “Is that a legitimate question?”

Kara held up her hands in mock surrender. “A thousand pardons.” She turned to Cat. “Can I get you anything, Miss Grant?”

Cat rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Please, Kiera. In all the years you were my assistant, did I ever order anything as vile as a cheesesteak sandwich?”

Lena had to suppress the growl bubbling in her throat. She removed her glasses and massaged her temples in the vain hope that she could stave off the headache that could feel coming.

“A salad with a cheeseburger on top of it is somehow different?” Kara leveled Cat with a snarky smile. A deadpan look settled on Cat’s face. Kara shook her head. “They have salads…yogurt dressing and all.”

Cat seemed to perk up at this news. “Well, in that case, I’d love a salad.”

Kara nodded and turned her attention to Lena. She bent down and placed a chaste kiss on her wife’s forehead before super-speeding out of the room; Lena anchoring the papers in front of her to keep them from scattering.

As the breeze from Kara’s speedy departure subsided, Lena let out a long breath. After quickly organizing her thoughts, she straightened her posture and locked eyes on the woman across the table, sizing her up like a lion would a gazelle. Cat shifted uncomfortably in her chair, clearly unnerved by the intense look in Lena’s eyes, yet defiantly maintaining eye contact.

“Penny for your thoughts, Mrs. Luthor?” Cat said pointedly.

Lena folded her hands on the table, leaned forward, and using her well-honed CEO voice said, “I was just thinking about the remarkable difference in CatCo’s current market value compared to what I paid for it in 2017. Remarkable considering you purchased it from Andrea no less than three years ago for $250 million less than I paid for it.”

“The last three years have been very successful,” Cat said, clearly gloating. “And in all honesty, CatCo’s dismal market value three years ago was a direct result of Miss Rojas’ incompetence. The woman had no business being a journalist, she’s better suited to run some kind of multi-level marketing scam.” Cat scrunched up her nose like she’d smelled something foul.

Lena couldn’t argue, she wholeheartedly agreed with Cat’s assessment of Andrea. The woman had no concept of ethical business practices, let alone journalistic integrity. Lena was well aware that Andrea would run CatCo into the ground when she offered to sell it to her. Lena was more concerned with pissing Kara off at the time. A brief surge of guilt overcame her for the briefest of moments. Although she and Kara had long ago forgiven each other for their respective transgressions during their year-long schism, Lena still promised herself she would do something nice for the hero when they got home this evening as an unspoken “I’m sorry”; most likely something that would make her wife’s toes curl.

 “Still, it’s amazing what you’ve been able to accomplish in such a short amount of time.” Lena praised.

“Thank you.” Cat seemed pleased with the compliment…and herself.

Lena leaned in closer to Cat. “So, tell me, owner to owner, what’s the secret? How in the hell did you turn a sinking ship worth $500 million into what Kara and I are shelling out $1.4 billion for?”

The question clearly threw Cat for a loop, her eyes flitted around the room as she considered her response. “Well, you can’t be afraid to ruffle a few feathers. People don’t like the truth sometimes, but that’s the responsibility of a free press, exposing people to the ugly truths that surround them.” Cat’s smile regained its cockiness. “Accuracy is more important than expediency; being right is always better than being first.”

“I have firsthand experience in that regard,” Lena sighed bitterly.

A look of recognition passed over Cat and she nodded benevolently. “That’s right. Your mother’s escape.” Cat shook her head and snorted in disgust. “I should have fired both Snapper and Jimmy for their incompetence.” Cat quirked her head questioningly. “I must say I was quite shocked when I heard you and Jimmy were an item at one point given his…negative opinion of you in those early days.”

“I still am shocked at my utter stupidity.” Lena grimaced. “Luckily it wasn’t a permanent affliction.”

Cat said nothing in response to Lena’s lamentation and the two sat in comfortable silence. Cat’s features softened and her lips slid into a warm smile. “That whole mess perfectly illustrates why competent leadership is so important. A good EIC would have put a stop to their recklessness.”  

Thankful for the opportunity to shift the focus away from her relationship with James, Lena quickly replied, “I heard Kara tried to stop them.”

Cat’s smile took on a thoughtful appearance, a glimmer of fondness shown in her eyes. “That’s what makes her so remarkable. Even then, with only a few months’ experience under her belt, she still stood up to those jackasses. Her internal compass told her that something wasn’t right, and she refused to let her inexperience stop her from speaking up.” Cat’s look of pride was matched by Lena’s. “That’s what a competent leader does, sticks to their guns even when those in power tell them they’re wrong.”

“So, you think Kara a logical pick for CEO?”

“Absolutely,” Cat responded passionately. “Credit where credit is due, she’s been singlehandedly running the company for over a year now. She’s been performing tasks well beyond her job title and doing a damn fine job in the process.”

“So, would you say Kara has earned your trust and respect?” Lena set her trap.

“Unequivocally,” Cat said with no small amount of adoration, but her features quickly took on an aura of incredulity. “If I didn’t know any better Mrs. Luthor, I’d say you’re having doubts about putting your wife in charge.”

A feeling of pure satisfaction and anticipation surged through Lena as she now had Cat cornered, though she showed no signs of it, her poker face was impenetrable. (There’s a reason poker had been banned from Game Night, Lena could out-bluff everyone)

She almost felt sorry for the older woman.

Almost.

“No, Miss Grant, I have no doubts regarding Kara’s ability to run CatCo. I’m just confused.”

“About what?” Cat asked with an annoyed tone.

“I’m glad you asked.” The smile that spread across Lena’s face could only be described as sinister. “You compliment Kara’s leadership skills. You say that she is the best choice to run CatCo. You say that you trust her. You even go so far as to say you respect her.” Cat nodded, a look of absolute confusion on her face. “And yet, you continue to disrespect her on a daily basis, both privately and publicly.”

Cat sat silently, eyes the size of saucers and her mouth agape.

“What’s my wife’s name, Miss Grant?” Lena asked in an even tone.

Cat stared at Lena as if she was speaking a foreign language. Lena continued. “’Kara’. Say it with me, ‘Kara’.” Lena enunciated phonetically, making no attempt to hide the disdain in her voice. “K-A-R-A. If you’d like, I’d be happy to write it down in crayon for you.”

Cat was clearly flabbergasted, evidenced by her complete lack of response.

Lena took a deep, centering breath; her anger ebbing away ever so slightly. “Miss Grant, I don’t know you that well. When I met Kara, she spoke almost to the point of reverence about you. It became very clear early in our friendship that you were very important to her, so when you came back into her life, I viewed it positively.” Cat seemed to relax at the shift in Lena’s mood, her features loosened as she followed Lena with rapt attention.

Lena continued, her voice tinged with melancholy, “My opinion soured the first time I met you.” Cat looked at her questioningly, Lena rolled her eyes in response. “Our bridal shower,” Lena deadpanned. Cat gave a slight nod. Lena shook her head and continued, “As I was saying, our bridal shower was the first time I heard you call Kara ‘Kiera’. I just assumed I’d misheard you and let it go. When you called her ‘Kiera’ at our bachelorette party, I figured you’d had too much to drink. When you called her ‘Kiera” at our wedding, the only reason I didn’t cast a spell that would make all your hair fall out is because…well…it was our wedding, and I wasn’t going to ruin the day.”

Cat seemed to sink a little further into her seat as Lena listed off each slight, her face stoic.

“My favorite was the night Kara was awarded her second Pulitzer. You did such a beautiful job during her award presentation. Hell, you even introduced her using her proper name,” Lena paused, a look of mock astonishment on her face. “But no more than two seconds after she stepped off the stage, you called her by that goddamn name again!” Lena, face dusted pink, slammed her fist on the conference table, startling Cat.

Her anger rising, Lena gave Cat no time to recover as she leveled her index finger at the clearly unsettled blonde. “Kara is an extraordinary woman. She has saved this planet both as a writer and Supergirl. For fuck’s sake, she saved the universe from being wiped out of existence! Do you have any idea the enormity of something like that? I assure you, you do not.” Lena slowly rose from her seat and leaned over the table, hovering over a floored Cat. “She is a daughter, a sister, an aunt, my wife, the mother of my unborn children, and goddamn superhero for Christ’s sake! You will show her the respect, grace, and compassion that she is owed. You will commit to me right here and now that you will never, EVER, call her ‘Kiera’ again.” Lena picked up the contract and shook it in Cat’s face. “And if you fail to agree to that, I will burn this and piss on the ashes!” Lena mic-dropped the stapled papers.

Cat, wide-eyed and mouth agape once more, stared blankly at the discarded contract. Lena, satisfied with her tirade (for now), gently lowered herself into her seat. She retrieved her glasses and put them on. After grabbing the contract from its resting place on the conference table, she thumbed through the pages until she found where she left off and resumed her reading.

Lena was content to sit in silence while Cat continued to process what had transpired. She felt a great deal of satisfaction being able to defend her wife, even if it meant the deal might fall through. Lena knew that Kara would be devastated if she had to leave CatCo, and as much as Lena wanted to spare her wife from a broken heart, there was no way in hell she was going to let anyone disrespect her. If worse came to worst, they could buy a smaller publication and build from there; Lena feeling confident that any media organization run by Supergirl would garner a sizeable following, not to mention Kara’s skills as a publisher.

“Have you ever met Perry White?” Cat’s passive voice broke through the silence.

Lena set the contract back on the table, removed her glasses, and studied Cat for a moment. As far as Lena could tell, there was no trace of hostility or arrogance in Cat’s appearance. Lena had no idea why Cat was bringing up the former Daily Planet editor. Her curiosity peaked, she decided to follow Cat down whatever rabbit hole she was leading her. “No, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Though I’m not too broken up about it seeing as how he was more than happy to label me as the anti-Christ after Lex was sent to prison.”

“The man was a pig,” Cat said, a slight tremble in her lips. “When I first started at the Planet as his assistant, he insisted on calling me ‘Caity’.” Cat paused, apparently waiting for some type of response from Lena; a raised eyebrow was all she received. “This went on for weeks. ‘Caity! Coffee, black! Caity, where’re my cigars? ‘Caity, get off your ass and get me some lunch!’. Until one day, I psyched myself up enough to correct him. He told me that he knew what my name was, but he didn’t care. From that point on, he started calling me ‘Caity-Cat’.”

“Did you report him to HR?” The look on Lena’s face was ice-cold, but the hint of warmth in her voice belied a touch of sympathy.

Cat scoffed, “God no. Filing a complaint against the EIC for one of, if not the largest newspaper in the United States would have been career suicide.” Lena could only shake her head in disgust, Cat nervously fiddled with her fingers and huffed, “It was a barbaric time. The entire industry was run by a bunch of testosterone-laden animals.” Cat chuckled quietly. “It’s unfortunate Perry retired before the Me Too movement, I would have loved to have watched him get skinned alive.”

Lena couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. Cat grinned brightly at her reaction. Lena quickly regained her composure and dramatically cleared her throat. “So how did you deal with it?”

 “I used it,” Cat said confidently. “Every time I heard the name ‘Caity-Cat’, I used it as motivation to push for a better career. I made a vow that I would make such a name for myself that that son of a bitch would have no choice but to show me the respect I deserved.” Lena could see a flash of steely determination in Cat’s eyes. “Come hell or high water, I would prove that I was worthy of his notice.” Cat swallowed thickly, her eyes becoming glassy.

Lena picked up on the bitterness in Cat’s voice. She could see how much the memories of her time under Perry White pained her. She couldn’t help the swell of sympathy generated by Cat’s remembrances. Whether she liked it or not, Lena felt a kindred spirit in Cat. Both had navigated a world heavily dominated by misogynistic, deplorable men who did everything in their power to ensure their failure. She understood Cat’s motivation to prove that she belonged in that world, no matter its futility.

“Did you ever accomplish your goal?” Lena asked, already knowing the answer.

 “In a way.” Cat thinned her lips, a far off look on her face. “A year after I got CatCo off the ground, I ran into Perry at some awards dinner. By happenstance, serendipity, or whatever the hell you want to call it, we went to get a drink at the bar at the same time. I said hello, and he grunted out ‘Catherine’.” Lena shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, unsurprised by the man’s apparent apathy. Cat grinned playfully, clearly feeling like she swallowed the canary. “But by then it didn’t matter. I’d grown far beyond needing his respect or approval. By that time, I had already accomplished more than that sack of shit ever could. I didn’t want, didn’t need a damn thing from him.”

Lena let Cat relieve her triumphant moment, happy in the knowledge that Cat was able to realize her self-worth without needing validation from anyone else.

“So, is that why you scall my wife ‘Kiera’? In some misguided attempt to motivate her?” Lena’s gaze bore into Cat with an intensity greater than Kara’s heat vision. “Because from where I’m sitting, it seems history repeating itself.”

Cat blanched at Lena’s assertion; a barely perceptible shiver ran the length of her spine. Cat let out a long breath before meeting Lena’s probing stare before answering wistfully. “When she started as my assistant, maybe…but I think it got to the point where I wasn’t even aware I was doing it.” Cat looked away from Lena, clearly angry with herself. She fell back into her chair with an unceremonious thud, her shoulders sagging defeatedly. “But it really doesn’t matter, still makes me a hypocrite.”

Lena answered Cat’s unasked question with a raise of her eyebrow and a slight tilt of her head.

Cat folding her hands on the conference table and leaned closer to Lena. “Please understand, I am so proud of Kara. She has exceeded every expectation I could possibly have of her. She has grown into a remarkable woman; and it has nothing to do with the cape and tights. She engenders trust and respect to a level I have never seen before. I’m used to my staff going above and beyond because they’re scared of me, but her, they do it because they adore her.” Cat’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

Lena’s features softened at Cat’s admission, a warm sense of satisfaction blooming in her chest. She started feeling the slight sting of welling tears in her eyes after hearing such kind words about her wife. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

There might be hope for Cat yet. At the very least, she’d avoid tasting Lena’s fist.

“Have you considered telling her that?” Lena pointedly asked.

Cat grinned sadly through trembling lips. “I feel like that ship’s sailed,” Cat said with a shaky voice. “How…when…I mean…I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Lena didn’t even try to hide her enjoyment watching Cat ramble. “One, it’s never too late, two, use your words, and three, there’s no time like the present.” Lena motioned towards the closed door leading to the bullpen. Cat looked at the door confused. “Kara, I know you’re listening. You can come in now,” Lena said quietly.

Before Cat could react, the door opened and a sheepish looking Kara entered the conference room, two flimsy cardboard boxes filled with wrapped sandwiches and bags cradled in her arms. She set the boxes down and turned to face her wife. “I wasn’t listening.” Lena leveled Kara with an arched eyebrow in response, Kara quickly folded under her wife’s stare. “Well, I didn’t listen to everything.”

“Do tell, zrhemin.” Lena suppressed a grin.

Kara made to adjust glasses that weren’t there, quickly shifting to scratch her cheek.  “Fine. I’ve been listening since ‘piss on the ashes’”. But in my defense, I could hear your heartrate was elevated and I got worried.”

Satisfied, Lena shrugged. The color had seemed to drain from Cat’s face after Kara’s confession, her eyebrows hitting her hairline. An awkward silence followed. Cat and Lena appeared to be in a stare down while Kara tried to avoid looking either one in the eye. Lena emerged as the victor of the silent battle; Cat turned to face Kara.  Kier…Kara, I owe you an apology…”

“Miss Grant, you don’t have to apologize,” Kara cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“No, Kara, I do.” Cat took a focusing breath and swallowed thickly. “Your wife is right; I haven’t always been very nice to you. I’ve been disrespectful, callous, and sometimes, downright abusive; none of which you’ve deserved.” Kara was beaming as Cat spoke, now the third person in the room being brought to tears. “Sufficed to say, I will work harder to…be more positive with my feedback…and, at the very least, call you by your given name.”

Cat hesitantly approached Kara and after an awkward amount of positioning, embraced her in a tight hug. The floodgates opened and all three women had tears streaking their faces: Cat and Kara for obvious reasons, and Lena…well…goddamn hormones!

Kara and Cat pulled back from their embrace and messily wiped away their tears, a few sniffles coming from both women. “Thank you, Miss Grant. I accept your apology,” Kara said, a slight tremble in her voice.

Cat smiled at her warmly. “Kara, I think at this point you can call me Cat.”

Kara gasped in shock before devolving into clapping and squealing excitedly. “Ok…Cat,” she said with an overdramatic swagger.

Cat and Lena exchanged an eyeroll but didn’t comment on the Kryptonian being a spastic dork.

Cat leveled Kara with her best boss-stare, quickly pulling the hero out of her giddiness. “That is until I win the election. Then you’ll have to address me as Madame President.”

[syscourse-dialogue]

I've been outside the plural community for about a decade (2013 was the last time we really interacted), and it seems a lot has changed, especially in terms of the discourse and the terminology. It's a bit confusing, considering we're trying to reconnect with others, and don't really understand the current ideological divides.

For context, we are a traumagenic system that split in childhood. We have no formal DiD diagnosis, as we have an extreme distrust of therapists due to inpatient experiences, but we have a PTSD diagnosis, along with a host of others, so the trauma is real. Our first alter was a result of trauma, holding onto the trauma while I dissociated/depersonalized (I would still see what was happening/remember it, but suffered emotional amnesia as my headmate held the emotions, more or less).

So, in that way, we would fall under the "traumagenics only" stuff, right?

But I have another headmate, who I made during the tulpa/thoughtform/whatever it is called now that is least problematic to you craze of the 2010s. They're less a "tulpa" now so much as another alter in our head's framework of functionality. Apparently, this means we're a "mixed-origin system", and therefor, "endogenic"? And this is the subject of discourse?

We're really confused because as far as we remember that wasn't a debate back in the day. All the discourse was with people outside the community (non-DiDers and non-Plurals of any sort) more or less looking for lolcows. But now it seems traumagenic systems are warring with endogenic, debating the scientific validity of it? Why? And where does that leave me, someone who is traumagenic and whose trauma is important for why we are a system, but also has deliberately crafted mindforms that aren't trauma origined, in this debate?

It just sounds like a lot of nuance is lost when we do this weird trauma/endogenic split, idk. I feel like both sides don't really understand what qualifies a "disorder", or what "trauma" even means sometimes. Just kind of rambling at this point, but had to get my opinion out as an oldhead who has been disconnected from the community and only recently returned, only to find it on fire.

I believe if I remember correctly, around the time you stopped interacting with the community was around the time those terms were introduced. I didn't join the community until the past few years so I have no memory of that time in the community just what I've heard secondhand so if someone would like to add information on the changes that would be great.

Yes, the current state of syscourse has made it very difficult to find the part of the community one feels they truly belong with. I've known many who struggle with this, but there are shared spaces that will be accepting of both origins, some of which are CDD oriented, that may be beneficial. The first to come to mind is the discord server called CDD Gardens. But for tumblr, keep in mind tags that contain the word system are more likely to be frequented by anti-endos, and those that contain the word plural are more likely to be frequented by pro-endos. This is not a solid rule or accepted by everyone but it's generally true from what I've seen.

So the basics of syscourse now are anti-endos who generally think that endogenics either are faking or should be in separate communities from traumagenics or shouldn't be allowed to use the same terms. While pro-endos generally see endogenic experiences as valid and shared spaces as beneficial. There are also endo neurals and those who don't align themselves with syscourse stances that tend to be more nuanced in their opinions.

This debate is at the very basics about what research can support endogenic experiences and whether or not the comparisons between endogenic and traumagenic experiences are harming how CDDs are viewed.

We very much try to stay unbiased on this blog but I'm sure others can give a more thorough explanation in reblogs and feel free to send more asks to clarify or our DMs are open if you are comfortable with that. I hope this was in some way helpful.

[arushi091]

Best Hosting Provider in Delhi

When it comes to choosing a hosting provider for your website or business, there are many factors to consider. You want a provider that is reliable, fast, and offers excellent customer support. For businesses and individuals based in Delhi, India, selecting a local hosting provider can offer additional benefits like better site performance and localized support.

In this blog, we will explore some of the best hosting providers in Delhi and what makes them stand out in the competitive hosting market.

1. Hostagle – Affordable and Reliable Hosting

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Hostagle is ideal for those looking for a cost-effective solution with reliable customer service. Its local presence ensures that their team is well-versed in the needs of Indian businesses. Additionally, Hostagle’s servers are optimized for Indian internet speeds, which means faster load times for users in Delhi and other parts of India.

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HostGator is a well-known global hosting provider that also has a dedicated infrastructure in India. While HostGator is a global player, its Indian servers ensure fast loading speeds for local users, making it an excellent choice for websites targeting Indian audiences.

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Why Choose HostGator India?

If you’re looking for a hosting provider with a well-established reputation, excellent support, and a range of flexible hosting plans, HostGator India is a strong choice. Their servers in India provide good local performance, and their global presence ensures that they have the infrastructure to support businesses targeting international audiences.

3. Bluehost India

Bluehost is another global hosting giant with a strong presence in India. Known for its reliable WordPress hosting services, Bluehost is often recommended by WordPress itself for users looking to host their WordPress websites.

Key Features of Bluehost India:

Optimized for WordPress: Bluehost is one of the best hosting providers for WordPress sites, offering one-click installs, automatic updates, and excellent performance.

Free Domain for the First Year: When you sign up for a hosting plan, Bluehost gives you a free domain name for the first year.

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30-Day Money-Back Guarantee: Bluehost offers a 30-day money-back guarantee, allowing you to try their services risk-free.

Why Choose Bluehost India?

Bluehost is ideal for businesses that use WordPress or plan to build their site with WordPress. Its easy setup, high performance, and excellent customer service make it a great choice for users in Delhi and beyond.

4. A2 Hosting

A2 Hosting is known for its speed-focused hosting solutions. While not as widely recognized as some of the bigger names, it offers some of the fastest hosting services, thanks to its use of Turbo Servers.

Key Features of A2 Hosting:

Turbo Speed: A2 Hosting's Turbo Servers are designed to deliver faster load times, which can significantly improve the user experience on your site.

Free CDN: A2 Hosting includes a free Content Delivery Network (CDN) in its plans, which can further speed up your website for users around the world.

Developer-Friendly: If you’re a developer, A2 Hosting offers a range of tools like SSH access, staging environments, and other developer-friendly features.

High Uptime: A2 Hosting offers a 99.9% uptime guarantee, ensuring that your website stays up and running.

Why Choose A2 Hosting?

If speed is a top priority for your website, A2 Hosting should be on your radar. Their Turbo Servers deliver exceptional performance, and their global data centers ensure that websites load quickly, no matter where your visitors are located.

5. SiteGround

SiteGround is a globally recognized hosting provider that also has a presence in India. Known for its excellent customer support and high uptime, SiteGround is a solid choice for businesses in Delhi looking for reliable hosting.

Key Features of SiteGround:

Excellent Customer Support: SiteGround is known for its superior customer support, with a team that’s quick to resolve issues.

Free Daily Backups: SiteGround offers free daily backups, so you never have to worry about losing your website’s data.

Optimized Performance: SiteGround’s hosting is optimized for speed, ensuring that websites load quickly even during traffic spikes.

WordPress and WooCommerce Hosting: If you’re running a WordPress or WooCommerce site, SiteGround offers specialized hosting plans designed to enhance performance.

Why Choose SiteGround?

For businesses that need top-tier customer support and fast, reliable hosting, SiteGround is a great option. Its support, performance optimization, and strong reputation make it a favorite among Indian businesses.

Conclusion

Choosing the right hosting provider is crucial for the success of your website. Whether you’re running a small personal blog or a growing business in Delhi, there are several hosting providers to consider. Hostagle offers a great balance of affordability and reliability, especially for Indian businesses. Other international providers like HostGator India, Bluehost India, and A2 Hosting also offer excellent options with tailored solutions for Indian users.

Ultimately, your decision will depend on your specific needs—whether that’s price, performance, customer support, or scalability. Whichever provider you choose, make sure they align with your website goals and offer the services that best suit your business needs.

[unique-reviews]

Unleashing the Power of A2 Hosting Review: Hear Why Customers Are Raving

Introduction

Overview of A2 Hosting

When considering web hosting providers, A2 Hosting often comes up as a distinctive choice. Known for its speed and reliability, A2 Hosting caters to a diverse range of users—from bloggers to large enterprises. Their commitment to performance is backed by a suite of features designed to offer not just hosting, but a robust online experience. What sets A2 Hosting apart? Let me simplify it for you:

Turbo Servers: Up to 20x faster than standard hosting

Developer-Friendly: Supports various programming languages and frameworks

Green Hosting: Environmentally responsible with energy-efficient practices

Using A2 Hosting has truly allowed me to focus on what I love—creating content—without the worries of server downtimes.

History of A2 Hosting

Founded in 2001, A2 Hosting began with a clear mission: to provide a top-tier web hosting experience. What started as a small startup has evolved into a significant player in the hosting industry over the years. Here are some pivotal milestones in A2 Hosting's journey:

2001: A2 Hosting was established in Ann Arbor, Michigan, mainly targeting developers.

2003: The introduction of their "Turbo" server line showcased their focus on speed.

2013: The launch of their Managed WordPress hosting solidified their offerings.

A2 Hosting Features

High-Speed Servers

One of the standout features of A2 Hosting is its high-speed servers. Speed is crucial, especially if you want to provide users with a seamless experience. When I first migrated my blog to A2 Hosting, I noticed an immediate boost in page loading times. Their Turbo Servers promise up to 20x faster performance, which is a game changer! Here are a few highlights about their speed capabilities:

SSD Storage: A2 utilizes solid-state drives that drastically improve data retrieval times compared to traditional HDDs.

Turbo Boost: This optional feature allows for even faster speeds by optimizing server settings specifically for your site.

Global Data Centers: With multiple data centers across the globe, A2 Hosting ensures that your content is as close to your visitors as possible.

Reliable Customer Support

Another noteworthy aspect of A2 Hosting is their reliable customer support. We all encounter technical hiccups from time to time, and having a responsive support team can make all the difference. Personally, I found their customer service representatives to be knowledgeable and eager to help with any questions I had during my initial setup. Here’s what you can expect from their support services:

24/7 Availability: Whether it’s the weekend or the middle of the night, help is just a click away.

Multiple Support Channels: Reach out via live chat, phone, or email—whichever method suits you best.

Comprehensive Knowledge Base: A detailed library of articles and tutorials helps users find answers swiftly.

A2 Hosting Plans

Shared Hosting

When it comes to affordability and ease of use, A2 Hosting's Shared Hosting plans are a fantastic option, especially for beginners. I still remember my initial foray into web hosting; I started with a shared plan simply because it fit my budget and needs perfectly. With shared hosting, multiple websites share the same server resources, which is both cost-effective and simple to manage. Here are some key features of A2 Hosting's Shared Hosting:

Low Starting Price: Their plans are competitively priced, making it accessible to many.

Free Site Migration: A2 offers migration assistance from your existing host, saving you the hassle.

Unlimited Storage and Bandwidth: Ideal for growing websites that may need more resources as they scale.

VPS Hosting

As my website grew, I found myself needing more control and resources, leading me to explore A2 Hosting's VPS Hosting options. Virtual Private Servers offer dedicated resources within a shared environment, providing better performance and greater customization. Here's what I discovered about their VPS Hosting plans:

Flexible Resources: You can scale your resources according to your site's evolving needs.

Root Access: Ideal for developers like me who want complete control over their server's configurations.

Enhanced Security: A private environment adds an extra layer of security for sensitive data.

Benefits of Using A2 Hosting

Enhanced Security

One of the aspects of A2 Hosting that truly stood out for me is their enhanced security features. In today’s digital landscape, safeguarding your website is crucial, and A2 Hosting takes this concern seriously. From the moment I started my journey with them, I felt reassured by the various security measures they implemented. Here are some highlights of their security features:

Free SSL Certificates: A2 provides free SSL certificates, which are essential for encrypting data and boosting customer trust.

HackScan Protection: Their proactive monitoring helps detect vulnerabilities and block potential threats before they cause harm.

Reinforced DDoS Protection: This feature safeguards your website from malicious attacks that could disrupt services.

Knowing these measures were in place allowed me to focus on my content without constantly worrying about potential breaches.

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In my experience, witnessing such genuine testimonials gives me confidence in A2 Hosting. Their customers not only praise the services but feel genuinely looked after, and that’s something we all want when selecting our web hosting partner.

[arx-aru]

Is it established anywhere in canon whether the Godrick and/or Radahn cliques know Malenia has already made it back to the Haligtree after the Battle of Aoenia?

Curious cuz so far as I can immediately find the only acknowledgment of her escape prior to the Haligtree area itself seems to come from Commander O'Neil's Standard--

(I'm 99% sure O'Neil was part of the Malenian/Miquellan host but I don't think it's explicitly stated? he and the Cleanrot Knights around his arena are specifically non-hostile to each-other and share buffs, and he absurdly found Malenia's(?) discarded needle and protected it to his death even after being nuked by her)

And Gowry obviously hinges his whacky machinations on her being at the Haligtree (though it's probably more blind faith in his goddess than it is, like, solid intelligence...)

But both those guys and their associates are specifically Malenian or adjacent thereto... and, in light of the stupendous amount of bad blood and continued lethal(or worse) hostility between her and Godrick/Radahn's forces, it seems reasonable to assume the information wouldn't make it across enemy lines...?

The only(?) relevant sword monument makes no assertation on Malenia's whereabouts post-bloom too:

Gideon also seems not to know her whereabouts--or at the very least he feigns ignorance--

(the exception he's referring to here is Ranni)

If Godrick IS unaware of Malenia's successful exfiltration(thank you finlay very cool), it would serve as an interesting explanation as to the outwardly nonsensical distribution of his army in Limgrave and the Weeping Peninsula, I think;

(the banner icons are where he has soldiers encamped)

The guy has made zero effort to place garrisons to a) contain the Scarlet Rot of Caelid, b) contain the Frenzy in the Ailing Village, or c) Contain the beastman peasant uprising in Castle Morne's fief... all of which are catastrophic and increasingly existential threats to his domain. He COULD just be very, very careless and bad at basic warlord-ing, but in which case he surely wouldn't have survived the Shattering right???

But actually it maybe makes sense! His troops are dug in around the Weeping Peninsula with their battlements/ballistae facing away from the internal threats and towards the far end of the single bridge to Limgrave, completely neglecting Castle Morne and its satellite fortress which SEEMS dumb... bUT! the Tower of Return, with a direct gate to Leyndell, isn't protected by Morne whatsoever. And it's one of the few locations with his lordsworn still entrenched, despite everything else.

Soooooooooo Godrick perhapsedly is insanely hyper-fixated on catching somebody trying to flee from Eastern Limgrave or Caelid. He already broke the bridge connecting Stormhill to Liurnia, which means the only means of traversal from Caelid to the Snowfields by land would be through Stormveil Castle(which would be suicide) orrrrrrrrr the Tower of Return's gate.

His prey could be Tarnished, granted, but considering that he's a) already got that entire issues entirely contained by the far more formidable Grafted Scion at the Chapel of Anticipation and b) has forsaken 90% of his domain and powerbase on this endeavor, it seems far more likely that Godrick has long been all-in on catching Malenia.

Seem like a silly objective to trade a kingdom for? Not at all, unfortunately! The uh. The game doesn't talk a whole lot about it, but Malenia isn't just a shardbearer: she's an Empyrean. The component Godrick needs to become an Elden Lord (yes, he could aim for consort to Marika, but then he'd be beholden to Marika's order, and unable to shape his own blueprint for reality like Ranni can. If he managed to shackle Malenia then he'd be able to do the same).

...So Finlay didn't just save Malenia from death by Radahn, she saved her from being Godrick's, uh- well. She would've been in the same situation as Miquella(or what whats-his-face wanted for Ranni). It also isn't exactly... unthinkable, so to speak, that Radahn pre or post rot would have liked the same thing.

I mean. That was the goal of the Shattering.

The target on Malenia's back as an Empyrean is massive. And her fate, should she have failed, would have been exponentially more miserable than all the shardbearers'.

Small part of why it's cool that, unlike the other two, Malenia battled on the front lines and charged demigods on an equal or greater power scale. Add to the fact that she's physically disabled, actively sabotaged by an Outer God, and demonstrably less magically adept than her counterparts and her performance is all the more impressive.

[abyssmalice]

"Playing host to this many foreign dignitaries at once is not an easy task." Despite her distant gaze, the hand she laid upon Tonia's shoulder is gentle and consoling in nature.

"You have done well, my daughter."

The princess blinks up at the first touch of frost on her shoulder, having missed her mother's entrance in the midst of the numerous departures. A pure surprise flickers across her face as such, but it calms down for something more appreciative and - a touch sheepish, perhaps.

"It was more exhausting than I would have liked..." Tonia says, finally able to speak her mind now that it was just family in the room. Admitting to such a thing in general would not be unbecoming of her, per say - for everyone has their weaker moments. But as the Tsaritsa's daughter, it would put a lens of scrutiny upon her. A small, visible crack for anyone else to try swinging bats at. And while it would be easy enough to defend herself regardless, Tonia didn't want to bring about unnecessary attention or troubles for her mother in the first place.

Among the general public, the Tsaritsa is seen as a figure akin to sculpted ice - pure and cold, steadfast and remorseless. Immovable, like a solid sheet of tundra. But where some would think of her as a flawless existence as such, there are others who further contemplate whether it's the opposite. And how to force the god to such a state.

Tonia is aware that she could be convenient for brainless plots along those lines. All the more reason to hold her chin high and perform her role to perfection, just like her mother does.

Though spending several hours spinning small talk, deflecting questions that didn't need to be asked, and stomping down the occasional attempt at manipulation and keeping all the dignitaries trapped in the room with Tonia versus the other way around - well, she can only hope she maintained a perfect defense the whole time.

(Maybe if she learned how to wear the same expression of ice-cold, severe neutrality that Mother tends to have...? Tonia's tried to copy it in front of a mirror a few times, but her attempts to practice keep getting thwarted by people walking in on her. Maids, usually. Some of the Archon's Harbingers, a few times, embarrassingly enough.

Probably would have been worse though if Mother herself ever found out. Tonia hopes the maids haven't blabbed a word. Yet.)

"The diplomats were all polite and considerate to me," the young princess says, patting the empty side of the sofa for her mother to come and take a seat. There were still refreshments on the center table—a few biscuits and enough tea in the pot for a cup or two—so Tonia automatically began to set some aside. "They remained aware of my status in comparison to theirs, so I can't say it was a completely miserable affair. But even so - they knew that political power doesn't rest with me, not truly."

A faint aroma of black tea wafts from a tea cup, newly filled and shared. "So they tried their best to maneuver around me - I won't bother Mother with the exact details of their attempts, but I can still say that they did not obtain anything of worth from me or through me."

The princess smiles now, delight like sunshine seeping free from her. "I wish I could have done a little better than that - but I'm happy that it was enough, at least."

Without watchful eyes or the expectations of duty, Tonia giggles quietly and acts a little more impulsively now, arms reaching out to hug the Archon. It's a painfully childish, crudely selfish gesture. And the Tsaritsa, the ruler of a land born from eternal winter, is not the ideal choice for someone to hug in the first place; cold like sculpted ice, like a solid sheet of tundra.

Tonia wraps her arms around her mother, pressing her cheek against a warm shoulder. With family, Tonia is just that - absent of titles, just her mother's daughter. And she is more than satisfied to chase after more warmth and praise as a simple girl right now.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Those Who Share the Memories- OG Seven

Return to File

Recovery date: April 2nd, 2024

Description: Osmanthus Wine tastes the same as I remember, but where are those who share the memories?

Notes: So, I made it a point to only refer to the archons by their "true names" (i.e Baal, Morax, Barbatos, Egeria, Focalors ect.) unfortunately, of the OG archons, we only know 4 of their "true names" since the name Rukkhadevata is not the same as Nahida being Buer. So a lot of the archons are simply referred to as "the ____ archon" and pronouns are avoided (except with Rukkhadevata) because for a lot of them we don't even know that.

Word count: 378

Back to directory

Morax is, once again, unsure how he was elected to hold this gathering. Surely Fontain, the land located in the center of Teyvat, was a better option? It’s not like it was lacking water way entrances for Baal to travel to. Or perhaps somewhere they can drink on solid ground and not-

“Barbatos stay away from the cliff!” The dendro archon scolds as she cages him to the ground with roots and drags him back to the table.

His wings flail helplessly as he tries to take off, a usually accomplishable feat if not for his drunken state damping his strength. Baal and the other three archons snicker behind their cups before downing the contents. Morax can only lament that his suggestion to drink closer to the ground was once again denied.

“For the god of a nation known for its alcohol,” the cryo archon sighs, pouring another glass of osmanthus wine, “he cannot hold his alcohol.”

Everyone at the table nods in agreement as the vines finally wrangle the archon in question back to the table.

“You drink just as heavily,” Morax notes, watching the cryo archon finally forgo a cup and simply open a new bottle to drink from, “and yet you seem unaffected.”

The cryo archon maintains eye contact while chugging the wine, sighing in satisfaction once the bottle was a quarter depleted. Elsewhere at the table, Egeria watches in awe as the pyro archon rises to the challenge and grabs another bottle. This was how these gatherings always ended.

The dendro archon sighs as the pyro archon downs half a bottle. Barbatos, ever observant when alcohol was involved, peels himself from the table and makes a swipe at the communal bottle which Egeria quickly moves away.

“You’ve had more than enough for today. I do believe flight while inebriated is a crime.”

“I'm not inebriated,” Barbatos slurs, “I’m drunk.”

“Those are synonyms, Barbatos.”

“What does cinnamon have to do with anything?”

Baal snorts as she holds her cup out to Egeria for a refill, and Morax follows her lead.

While perhaps this location was less than ideal, Morax did not find himself regretting playing host to the rest of the seven. Time was fleeting, and someday these gatherings would be nothing more than memories.

[7vyntheefaerie]

Poetics of Black Becoming: A Manifesto/Syllabus by 7vyn

A Prelude:

i am 7vyn. that is a self-given name that i claim in exploration of my gender and its manifestation of xpression through the digital. 7vyn is dislocated and pixelated embodiedment. a dis-spirit(ed) alien(ated) straddling human and monstrous livlihood. as 7vyn and thru this account, i hope to host a pilot of a manifesto/syllabus that crafts a tangible imaginative world that centers decolonial praxis. i wanted to create a place where texts central to themes of interest for me could live together on the same throughline to think with, around, and beyond each other.

why syllabus?

this is a tradition that came long before my attempts at uniting the scholarly and the activist for more fluid models of knowledge production and sharing. some considerations that made the syllabus a useful tool for me include:

proclamation, this syllabus is not making an argument as much as it is just saying, uniting threads of information. this syllabus is not engaged in any larger debate as much as it is a declaration of a more considerate, passionate, just world and its maintainance and flourishing needs. this syllabus/manifesto is the bare bones of a lineage of thought greater than my own wing-span, so rather than declare and leave thought to the wind as many in the tradition of manifesto do, i insist on the collabortative intention and nature of this piece. as in, this syllabus can be added to. this syllabus will remain malleauble and engaged.

invitation to learning, this syllabus/manifesto is creating a sort of index library or guide map of thinking toward decolonization in a Black trans-cyber-anarchafeminist tradition. this manifesto is uninterested in interacting with and sharing knowledge in such a way designed to exlude nonmembers of academia. so, i use my institutional access to create knowledge beyond academic spaces, straddling the line between academia and activism and daring myself and other producers of knowledge and culture to be intentional about the the work we do to prioritize and care for our audiences of intention. because this is a collaborative work, i most aim for Black transfeminists with specific niches related to the digital and decolonization (broadly) or even beyond to progress and advance the thinking of this syllabus. i encourage all others to engage this manifesto/syllabus as a learning tool.

accessible. this manifesto does not privilege knowledge. by this i mean, i am not the owner of this knowledge, i am merely an assembler, a curator. i also reject bullshit academic vernacular because i believe that is a method of exclusion and i want everyone, even people this is not useful for to at least be able to meaningfully engage with the information offered. i elect to spark enthusiasm and curiousity, not headaches.

translatable. because i think of this manifesto/syllabus as a useful learning tool, i believe that it should also have a flexibility that supports it as a learning model. this means i currently understand the syllabus/manifesto as a zine, twine game, installation, digital exhibition, and on a decentralized platform. these are initiatives i hope to take up later in the life of the manifesto/syllabus, hopefully in direct collaboration with other scholars, organizations, activists, cultural & knowledge workers, etc.

this is a living document + post. i will return as needed to update information, offer specificity, add resources, activities, prompts, and more. this post will serve as the original and masterlist. below you can gain access to some preliminary writing on the sources I have decided to include, key concepts I am drawing from them, and why they are useful to my thinking (and potentially yours too!). as i may have stated earlier in this post, this is just the pilot of this project for me. so what you see as of now (5/17/2024) is just the bare bones of something i will be building outward as long as i need to.

Solidarity (tag: #solid, where strength lies)

Accomplices Not Allies by Indigenous Action

Insurrectionary Mutual Aid by Curious George Brigade

Power Makes Us Sick Issue #3

Resistance (tag: #push/pull)

My Gender is Marronage by Nsambu Za Suekama/Bl3ssing

Them Goon Rules by Marquis Bey

Rave:n by Kelela

Sabotage (tag: #set aflame)

Random Acts of Flyness by Terrence Nance

The Poetics of Difference by Mecca Jamilah Sullivan

Play With The Changes by Rochelle Jordan

thank you for reading! my placemaking & writing on process does not end here, so stay tuned!

with care,

7vyn

[burningexeter]

[PITCH]

Incredible Stories Told By Shego

What is it —

A spin-off/reboot of Kim Possible, and a horror anthology series hosted by Shego in animated wraparound segments that appear in the beginning and end of every episode with Nicole Sullivan reprising her iconic role.

PREMISE:

As with most antholgies, each and every episode has a new setting, story and characters although some details connect the stories and therefore not only does it help make the series stand out from others of its genre but also heavily imply a shared universe.

But another thing that adds to it is that the series is live action with animated wraparounds featuring Shego in a Rod Serling/Cryptkeeper type of host role that book-ends every episode and the overall tone of the show is a mix of enchantment, sci-fi, adventure, mystery and most of all, horror with inspiration being taken from Amazing Stories, Trick r Treat, R.L. Stine's The Haunting Hour: The Series, Tales From The Darkside and last but not least Wild Tales.

Every episode obviously features a different cast in a scary and often surreal situation that would involve ghosts, aliens, witches, zombies and monsters but the storylines are much darker and some episodes serve as very dark morality tales. Better yet, the threat of death is not implied, being both clear and permanent. In addition, death in the show is not limited to antagonists and minor characters with some stories even ending with the main protagonist(s) being killed.

That said, there will be a good and solid as a rock balance between good and bad endings with the formers feeling the most earned and the latters being dark and twisted horror ends.

EPISODE IDEAS:

The Rain In The Trench — Set in World War I, a fighter pilot who's shot down, a sadistic and ruthless private and a soldier who's left eye is bloodshot after a gunshot to the head all find themselves trapped behind enemy lines in an abandoned, almost maze-like trench where the spirits of those they've killed who were innocent begin to haunt them and play off their deepest and most darkest fears.

Purgatory On The Way — A spoiled beauty pageant queen is on her way to compete and win her 100th competition when she ends up in a violent car accident that leaves her in a bloody coma and winds up stuck in purgatory where it's revealed she's destined to die later on but she refuses to pass on before she wins the award her career has been building towards.

Bad Wolf Rising — At one of the best but most toughest military schools in the state, a cadet who's not known for his bravery is the only one who's able to stop a deadly wolf-like creature that's infiltrated the school and it's starting to feast on the flesh and meat of the teachers and students when the moon is out and the lights fade.

Sticky Fingers — With the skin of her fingers ripped off, a rookie police officer must use all of her skills she's able to do in order to escape from the clutches of a demented serial killer who's been responsible for the deaths of several officers in the city and is about to add her to his victims' list.

Deer In Headlights — A group of rowdy college students accidentally run over a deer after getting drunk at a party and try to get it out of their car windshield its head smashed through, only for it to keep on coming back to life again and again no matter how many times they actually kill it.

NOTES/TRIVIA/DETAILS:

• The show will run for a total of three seasons as a get in and get out sort of way.

• If the show is a success than it will spin-off into Global Justice.

• While she will still have her signature sense of humor, Shego is far more darker and scarier here than she is in the original series.

• At the end of the show, it will be heavily implied that Shego is somehow responsible for the events in every episode.

• The show will push the rating for how much violence and darkness we can get away with.

[shefanispeculator]

A Brief History of Smithworks Vodka

Smithworks Vodka was launched in 2016 as a collaboration between Pernod Ricard and American country singer Blake Shelton. The mission was to create a genuine and smooth American vodka using locally sourced ingredients. Smithworks was distilled three times and charcoal-filtered, resulting in its signature smoothness.

Rooted in heartland values, Smithworks sourced its corn from Kansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma, and used water from Lake Fort Smith in Arkansas. This connection to the Midwestern United States earned the brand a loyal following and garnered positive reviews for its quality and taste.

The Mysterious Disappearance

Despite its solid fanbase and positive reception, Smithworks Vodka suddenly vanished from stores and bars in late 2019, leaving fans wondering: what happened?

Although there has been no official statement released by either Pernod Ricard or Blake Shelton, one reason for Smithworks' departure could be due to changes in ownership or strategic direction within the parent company, Pernod Ricard. The firm is known for its portfolio of diverse spirit brands, which include favorites like Absolut Vodka, Jameson Irish Whiskey, and Malibu Rum. An internal decision may have led to Smithworks being discontinued in favor of focusing on other brands within their extensive lineup.

Another possible reason could be related to the current market for vodka itself. The vodka industry has become increasingly competitive in recent years, with a myriad of new brands and flavors constantly emerging. Smithworks may have had a difficult time finding its place in a market saturated with innovation. The vodka industry’s growth and evolution could have pushed Smithworks out of the limelight.

What We Can Learn from Smithworks Vodka

A Celebration of Local Ingredients

Despite its short run, Smithworks Vodka reminded us of the importance of using locally sourced ingredients and embracing regional character. The brand was a great representation of Midwestern values and tastes, using heartland resources in crafting their all-American spirit.

Staying Relevant in a Competitive Industry

The vodka market is ever-evolving, with new brands, flavors, and techniques emerging regularly. For up-and-coming and even well-established spirit brands, it's essential to stay relevant, innovative, and adapt to industry changes. Smithworks' story is a poignant reminder of the challenges any vodka brand can face in today's competitive landscape.

What Happened To Smithworks Vodka Example:

Imagine hosting a tasting party with friends to sample some of the best vodkas on the market. The lineup includes tried-and-true favorites, as well as locally produced offerings with unique stories. As you pour a round of Smithworks Vodka, you share its fascinating tale of a local heartland spirit made using corn from Kansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma, as well as water from Lake Fort Smith in Arkansas. Despite its mysterious disappearance from the market, the spirit remains a fan favorite in the Midwest. Your friends and fellow vodka enthusiasts raise a toast to Smithworks Vodka, appreciating its journey and its smooth taste that remains in your memories.

There you have it, vodka lovers - the mysterious tale of Smithworks Vodka. While we may never know the complete story of why this beloved brand vanished, its legacy lives on through its fans and those who cherish its smooth, locally influenced taste. If you enjoyed this deep dive into vodka history and are thirsty for more, feel free to share this article with your friends and fellow vodka enthusiasts. Remember, Vodka Doctors is your ultimate resource for everything vodka - from brands to cocktails, we have it all. Happy tasting!

[createncodewebtechnologies]

Best Web hosting for Small Business Ecommerce

A service known as web hosting enables people and businesses to publish their websites online. Your website files are stored on a server that you rent space from when you buy a web hosting service. As a result, people can visit your website by using its domain name. Different Web Hosting Types Shared Hosting: A single server and its resources are used by several websites. This is a reasonably priced choice ideal for small companies with light traffic.

Hosting on a virtual private server (VPS): VPS hosting offers a dedicated portion of server resources while sharing the server with other customers, acting as a medium ground between shared and dedicated hosting. This is the best choice for expanding e-commerce companies.

Dedicated Hosting: Maximum performance and control are available when a dedicated server is fully devoted to a single website. Large, traffic-driven e-commerce enterprises are the ideal candidates for this choice. Cloud hosting: This kind of hosting offers scalability and dependability by using several servers to host websites. Cloud hosting is appropriate for companies with varying traffic volumes. Managed WordPress Hosting: This hosting choice provides optimum speed, security, and assistance for

WordPress users. It is specifically made for WordPress websites. Selecting the best web hosting for small company ecommerce website is an important choice that affects the functionality, security, and user experience of your website. Companies that cater to small e-commerce enterprises, such as Bluehost, SiteGround, A2 Hosting, InMotion Hosting, and Shopify, provide reliable solutions.

Think about things like speed, security features, scalability, customer service, and e-commerce-specific features when choosing a web hosting company. To choose which provider is the greatest fit for your company, do some research on them and read reviews. For startups with little traffic, shared hosting could be a good option for small company e-commerce sites. However, for improved performance and scalability as your business expands, think about switching to cloud or VPS hosting.

E-commerce success is mostly dependent on website speed. Websites that load slowly may have higher bounce rates and lower revenues. Retaining consumers requires investing in a dependable hosting service with quick loading times.

Beyond just appearances, a genuinely excellent web design company delivers.

It's an amalgam of science and art, where technical mastery and inventiveness collide. The following characteristics of an elite Indore web design firm:

User Experience (UX) Focus: The user experience is given top priority on a well-designed website. Seek out businesses that prioritize quick loading speeds, easy-to-use interfaces, and intuitive navigation.

Technical Proficiency: It is imperative to possess a solid foundation in HTML, CSS, JavaScript, and related frameworks. They must to be skilled in creating mobile-friendly websites that work well on all platforms.

Design Aesthetic: A website that is visually pleasing leaves a lasting impact. The business ought to have a talented design staff that can produce eye-catching images consistent with your brand identity.

With more businesses providing web design services, the web design company Indore has grown significantly in the last several years. This expansion can be ascribed to the city's supply of qualified workers as well as the growing need for internet presence among companies of all kinds.

Indore web design businesses stay abreast of emerging technology and trends to guarantee that their clients' websites maintain their competitiveness and relevance in the marketplace. To achieve superior outcomes, these organizations are investing in state-of-the-art tools and strategies, ranging from AI-powered personalization to responsive design.

[wthelvetica21]

Tombsona : Lifeform Codex

Multiverse [[fandom]]: The Living Tombstone

Prime [[Canon]] Examples: zero_one, Rust, Armstrong, Tesla, Doc, Geist

Outer dimensional entities transcend time and space and attach themselves to host lifeforms by fate. They are considered rare in and of themselves to every given universe they had first manifested and can span past multiple universes with varying methods of bonding to a host. Some actively profile their hosts while others happen to bond with their hosts in the right set of circumstances. A constant general profile they all share is a skull mask on their faces.

The body of the hosts are infused with mysterious substance called soulite that have a wide range of colors and tones. Some even have been said to master void and infinity but only within certain contexts.

They are not conventionally ‘alive’ and it’s still unclear their actual origins save for legends mentioning a ‘Progenitor’. This has become a double-edged sword because of those who seek their power and/or see tombsonas as an existential threat. Some have gone so far as to create synthetic ones such as Geist in the prime universe. It's unclear if they can find a host or if their existence is finite, at least the hostless ones.

- Full disclosure, there are indeed exceptions to whats layed out in this lifeform codex and it’s also more Fanon/headcanon and is subject to change once more canon information is to come out via TLT’s lore channel (or maybe even here) by Sam Haft himself.

Key

● Common

■ Uncommon

▲ Rare

♦ Ultra Rare

Categories

- Anchored ■

Are anchored to object(s) for unclear reasons. They don't get much in the way of profiling their future host prior to being found.

- Elemental ●

Ones with an elemental affinity to them such as fire, ice, lightning, etc. Their emotional state effects the stability of their elements.

- Ethereal ▲

Those who are more supernaturally inclined. Most in this category tend to be more in the know about their hosts beforehand.

- Polymorphic ●

This type changes the very phycology of their host upon the bonding process being complete.

- Singularity ♦

Tombsonas are usually stronger than regular ones and only a handful of them are in a given universe. They are said to even be considered mere legends even amongst themselves.

Synthetic ▲

Man-made tombsonas usually have a set-in-stone objective programmed into them. Most don’t need a host while a sparse few do depending on their universe’s knowledge on tombsonas in general.

- Hosted ♦

- Non-hosted ●

Color Scheme Variations

- Monochrome ●

- Duo Toned ■

- Tri or Tetra Color ▲

Mask Variations

- Solid ●

- Bright ●

- Dark ■

- Negative Space ▲

- Masquerade ♦

- Mouthed ■

- Duo Toned/Multicolor♦

Mask Attachment Style

- Tied/Straped ●

- Fused ■

- Removable ▲

- Helm ●

Eyehole Variations

- Solid ●

- Asymmetrical ■

- Luminous ●

- Translucent ▲

- Pupiled ■

- Odd Eyed ♦

[187days]

Day One Hundred Fifty-Six

I only taught one of my two "A" sections of Global Studies today; Mr. F covered the other one for me because I had to leave early for a track meet (more on that later). In the one I did get to teach, I talked my way through the history of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict between 1995 and 2020. Then we read an article written last spring about recent tensions and outbreaks of violence. That article ended with a warning that something more deadly was coming- which, of course, turned out to be quite prescient. After that, students did an assignment on the Oct. 7th Hamas attack, we looked at some infographics about the war, and I showed some footage from Rafah that CNN had posted this morning. I was pretty happy about students' level of engagement, and the seriousness with which they treated the topic.

A handful of the students in that section, plus some from the other sections, were in my room during flex time to work on various things they owe me (mostly book papers). I was in the middle of helping one student when I got called to the office to pick up a delivery. My mom had sent me a bunch of food for Teacher Appreciation Week with instructions to share. So I shared with the students who'd come in for flex time, then with my APGOV students, then with my colleagues on the second floor.

And, speaking of APGOV, we absolutely did not speak about the exam or look at any memes today. And definitely not while eating cheese and chocolates. We did start the post-exam unit on state and local government by looking at the US News and World Report state rankings and discussing how our state's data relates to state government policy. I'm all about the forward momentum after the exam, keeps the senioritis at bay.

So I was having a good, solid teaching day, and then I also had a good, solid coaching day. We were in action at a quad meet that my cousin's team hosted, and, while we were missing a few athletes because of the AP Stats exam, we still took second place on both sides. The sprinter boys had an especially good day.

And it was sunny! That was a first for us this season!