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Play Less, Climb More. Warning: Dense read, only for Tryhards

Preface: I'm a 4'th year medical student with a passion for self-improvement and optimization. This includes my IRL skills as well as my gaming. How to improve faster, how to be more efficient with my time, how to reach new heights, feel and play better; these are the things that interest me and I try to find ways to do it through science. Some of you may have seen my previous posts on Meditation and Flow. You might have also noticed that I post on multiple competitive gaming subreddits. I do this because these are games I personally enjoy, have coached and/or have competed in and also because these tips and tricks are not title dependent. Everyone can benefit and even apply it for things IRL. I want to keep learning so please hit me with your own discoveries, tips and tricks. I'm genuinely pleasantly surprised with the responses and the chance to meet like minded individuals! This post is particularly dense and took a lot of time to research. I'll try to make it as concise as I can.
Practice makes perfect! You can do anything just practice, practice, practice!
We've all heard this but I'm here to add complexity to the statement in the hopes that it actually makes your climb much easier. Spending more time playing does not mean you are making a good use of it. Research shows a chess grandmaster has anywhere between 1,000 to 14,000 hours dedicated to his game. Let's put this in perspective: 1,000 hrs = 41 days; 14,000 hrs = 1 year 218 days.
You could say some people are just born geniuses but research also shows that the top 1% actually practices LESS than their peers.
Also, for those of slightly advanced age (like myself at 28) frustrated with 13 year old's styling on us, this paper might help you feel better.

The Science of Accelerated Learning

A little biology (for nerds like me)
http://www.ccnss.org/ccn_2011/materials/pdf/bhalla/nrn2963.pdf
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnhum.2018.00400/full#h3
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2019.02396/full
Components
I will only address purposeful practice here. Mind and Body are crucial. This includes things like mindset, motivation, exercise, nutrition, etc. There is a reason why Esport teams invest in physical trainers, nutritionists and psychologists. I will leave this for other posts.
TL;DR
Have clear and measurable goals. Break down the game to it's most important components. Find your OPT. Structure your practice. Be a one trick pony. Observe a master. Use Imagery. Incorporate variability and contextual interference. Always make it slightly more difficult. Practice in a realistic setting. Add risk. Use mornings and evenings. Intensity followed by rest for maximal learning. Repeat at increasing intervals. Measure and monitor your progress. Get feedback.

Purposeful Practice

  1. Structure
2. Timing
3. Feedback

I believe this to be a pretty good summary of most Purposeful Practice techniques. As stated I will make a post on Mind and Body to completely close out the Accelerated Learning topic. Please let me know what you thought and honestly congratulations if you actually read the whole thing. It shows you're an actual Tryhard and I'm sure this will help you become OP.
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How to Avoid Overspending with Gacha in Genshin

AKA gacha-ing responsibly within your means.
With the Zhongli banner coming up, I'm making this post to warn and help people from itchy fingers and the urge to 'get just... 1 more constellation!!'. For context, I've played FGO, Arknights, SinoAlice, FEH, and Onmyoji, and am fully F2P with other games, and I've seen how far itchy fingers can go - with this game, people are being introduced to the gacha mechanic for the first time and may find it difficult to 'just stop', especially with the constellations. Here are some tips to avoid over-spending and I'll use Zhongli as an example of a limited character you wanna get.

  1. Define your goal clearly and budget how much is needed with the worst-case scenario
Worse-case scenario is you don't get Zhongli within the soft pity for accumulated limited banner pulls. At 90, it's a 50-50 chance at the banner character. So let's say you 'die-die' want Zhongli, meaning you're pulling until you get him which, if you're unlucky, is at 180 pulls. Budget for 180 pulls.
With normal purchases, that's USD100 for 50.5 pulls with the most expensive and most 'worth it' crystals per dollar. If you're buying just enough crystals for 180 pulls, you need 3 x the USD100 pack, then 1 x USD50 pack and 2 x USD5 pack and 1 x USD1 pack for a total of USD361 = 28840 crystals = 180.25 pulls.
If you anticipate future whaling, then 4 x USD100 packs will cost you USD400 = 32320 crystals = 202 pulls.
So if you want constellation 1 Zhongli, you need 2 x the above as an absolute minimum. Due to the exchange rates, it's gonna be more expensive in other regions.
  1. Buy before you gacha
Impulse purchases don't add up until you look at your card history and realise 'Oh shit'. After budgeting and before the banner releases, buy the exact no. of genesis crystals you want to gacha on for this banner and no more. That way, when you run out, you should have accomplished your main goal of getting the character + the constellations you want. Seeing there's not enough to gacha more with and having satisfied your goal, this prevents you from spending even more especially since you need to go through an additional step to purchase more crystals first. If you still get itchy fingers afterwards -
  1. You don't need higher constellations
Sure, it's nice, but do you really need a constellation 6 Zhongli? If you're financially secure and have money to spare, whatever, but if you also want Xiao or Ganyu, consider that with shitty luck, you'll need to reserve a minimum of USD361 for each of them and their constellations as well.
I suggest you use a financial planning calendar at tentatively 1 new 5* being released every month to save up accordingly.
  1. Read people's personal stories/Call your gambling addiction hotline
After achieving your goal and hitting pity, it's just gambling. Unless you have enough to guarantee another Zhongli, you're just betting on rng. If you don't have enough for 180 pulls, I would argue it's also gambling cuz it's still not guaranteed at 90 pulls - it's still a 50/50 for your husbando.
If you still wanna go, read some people's stories about gacha in Genshin first then carefully consider - this will help save you money as you evaluate if it's really 'worth it'.
Example: https://www.reddit.com/Genshin_Impact/comments/jp2cmk/i_amwas_addicted_to_spending_money/
If you still have that urge, call your gambling addiction hotline - it's not just for people addicted to casino gambling. There's no shame in admitting you need help in stopping, and they'll provide you with the advice to do so.
And remember -
  1. Gacha is predatory, but we can avoid falling prey to it.
If you wanna gacha even without having enough for 180 pulls, you can still go for it. But do not become desperate and splurge to get just 1 character - financial planning is a must with a gacha game. Plus, chin-up - there's always a re-run of the banner; limited characters are only limited in that they have a tiny chance to appear on specific dates. Just save your primogems accordingly.

Have fun, and all the best for your wishes!
EDIT: Just to clarify, I'm not F2P in Genshin plus the aforementioned games, in case there's any confusion, but I *have* been F2P in other games aside from the mentioned ones.
submitted by SimplyaStalker to Genshin_Impact [link] [comments]

OBLIGATORY FILLER MATERIAL – Giving thanks edition: Kickin’ around Caracas, Pt. 5

Continuing… (It's Part 6 in the saga, I fucked up. Sorry.)
So, after a few re-fueling and impromptu cigar-purchasing stops in South and Central America, we wheel up to the deserted jetway at LAX.
“Thought we were going to Elmendorf?” I asked.
“This isn’t it?” the pilot replied, feigning worry.
“No.”, I replied, “Looks like California. Fruits and nuts. All around. What’s going on? One minute we’re off to Texas, then Cali, then Texas again, now we end up here at the California airport of the iconic tower.”
“Yeah, it’s confusing enough haulin’ civilians around. But when we get a call from Virginia, we tend to comply without any questions,” the pilot explains.
“Aw, shit!”, I sort of exclaim, “Rack and Ruin called?”
“Yeah”, the pilot replies, “Figures you’d know these guys. They said they were closer to LAX rather than Texas and had us divert here. In fact, you look over there, see that dark blue Chevy? That’s them; and evidently, your ride.”
I tipped the airman from earlier a couple of cigars as he helped me with my gear off the plane and into the trunk of Rack and Ruin’s plain-Jane blue late modeled Chevy. Had to move the Sidewinder Missiles off to one side, though.
“Most honorable Agents Lack and Luin!” I quipped in my faux-racist greeting. “What the hell, guys? I’ve got to get to Japan and get some newly rigidified digits.”
“Let’s see your hand”, Agent Rack asks. “Nasty.”
“Yeah”, I sigh “And with the medicos in South America and their penchant for plaster, I don’t so much have a left hand as more of an ankylosaur tail.”
“Or Thagomizer”, Agent Ruin tittered. “Anyone gives you grief, and one upside the head should set them right. Or dead.”
“You’re a riot, Ruin.” I replied, “But not entirely incorrect.”
We all agreed that I really didn’t need any extra accouterments to make myself look more dangerous. I mean with my severe haircut, stern beard clip, and perpetual ‘Go fuck yourself’ scowl.
“Yeah”, I replied, stroking the aforementioned beard, “I just can’t get that. I’m such a people person.”
After Agents Rack and Ruin finished drying their eyes from laughing what I thought was en extremis, we finally got down to business.
“So, what’s the skinny, guys”, I asked. “New marching orders?”
“No. Not as such”, Agent Ruin said, still sniggering over my ‘people person’ comment.
I see we’re moving. Agent Rack is just driving casually, like Chewbacca when they were waiting to see if the Empire went for that expensive Bothan code.
“Then, what?” I asked, getting a slight bit piqued.
“Well”, Agent Ruin noted, “When you went to South America, you took some of your artillery collection with, correct?”
“You know I did. You even made some snide comments about my personal choice of sidearms and their ‘excessive’ calibers, if memory serves”, I reiterated.
“And if you are proceeding normally, as you always do, they’re all nestled in the trunk of this very car. All cleaned, quiet, unloaded, and smelling sweetly of Hoppe’s Number 9 and WD 40, correct?” Rack inquired.
“Yes?” I cautiously venture.
“Well, ya’ big dummy, do you think they’re going to let you saunter into Tokyo armed like the Third Fleet?” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Um…well…I do have a Diplomatic Passport.” I ventured.
“That’s not going to work this time.”, Agent Ruin said, shaking his head. “They’re tighter than Dick’s Hatband about sidearms. Want to bring in your Rigby SXS .500 Nitro Express double rifle? Not a problem. Sidearms, especially in your alien hunting calibers, nope.”
Well, that’s just….*dandy!”, I reply, semi-put out. “Now what the hell am I going to do?”
“Ever think that’s why Ruin and I are here, now?”, Rack asks.
“And here I thought it was just so you could bask in the warm glow of my fucking wonderful personality. Or that you actually cared about me as a real goddamn human”, I joshed.
“Ummm…yeah”, Rack replies, “There’s no way we can answer that without going on some Deadpool list. “
I agreed.
“OK, here’s the deal: you get your sidearms, ammunition, speed loaders, brass knuckles, Asp, laser range finders, Sap, Zeiss scopes, Kukri, Wisconsin Cheese Whittler, Buck folding skinner, Marine K-Bar, those two ultra-illegal Cheburkov Cobra titanium switchblades...”
“Three. Olga the KGB lady sent me one for Geologist’s Day.”
“Ahem. Those three ultra-illegal Cheburkov switchblades, that Wyoming Speedholer, your MASER Time-Distance Computer, garrote, pocket rail gun and whatever else lethal you carry and deposit it in the iron box in the trunk. We’ll ensure that it’s delivered to Esme post-haste. And by post-haste I mean one of our guys will deliver it personally.”
“Well…I suppose”, I conceded, “But best send someone who’s been to the house recently. I don’t know how much bigger Khan has grown since I left on this little fantasy trip. Wouldn’t want a star on the wall in Langley for someone eaten by a mastiff. Want to see a picture….Oh, bother. That’s right. My phone’s at the bottom of fucking Lake Maracaibo.”
“Good point”, Ruin interjects, “Guess we’ll do a little road trip and deliver it ourselves. Best call Esme and let her know what’s going on.”
“I have no objections to your proposals. Please give Esme this when you see her. I had some luck in the Calaveras Casino and if I don’t send her some mad money. Ouch. She’ll never forgive me for not taking her along to Japan.” I asked.
“But I thought Esme hated Japan? Too crowded and too ‘fussy’, I believe was her estimation.” Ruin asked.
“Yes, but once she saw the Ginza, all bets were off. Shopping the likes of which even Allah himself hasn’t seen.” I replied, slowly shaking my head.
“I see”, Ruin said, “Well, since you’re off to Sapporo, perhaps you can do a recon for Esme on the shopping there.”
“Not bad. Not bad at all.”, I smiled, “Now I know why I let you guys hang around with me.”
So, as advertised, I am now standing on the tarmac at LAX, basically feeling naked.
“Can’t I keep just one switchblade?” I moaned to Agent Rack.
“Go ahead, if you’re really keen on donating it to Japanese customs”, he replied.
“Fuckbuckets.” I groused.
“There, there now. That’s the usual Dr. Rocknocker of which we’re all so fond.” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Remember, you do have that wallet-sized credit card gizmo from the Company. So you’re not entirely ‘naked’. Think of it as an emergency breechcloth.” He smiled.
“I’d like a larger model if you don’t mind. It’s chilly out here.” I joshed.
After Agents Rack and Ruin stripped me metaphorically naked as they de-weaponized me, they handed me a Business Class ticket to Tokyo, and a pass to the Japan Airlines Hospitality Suite and Lounge.
“So sorry you guys can’t hang around and have a few farewell snorts”, I chided, “But you’ve got a bit of a drive, so best be off before the weather turns to shit.”
“Who says we’re driving?” Agent Rack asked as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the ready and waiting C-130 cargo plane currently taxiing slowly in our direction.
“Well, in that case”, I smiled even more broadly, “Let’s invite the flight crew to join us. That’ll make the flight home all that much more interesting.”
After near tear-jerking farewell sentimentalities, i.e., “Piss on you”, “Get stuffed” and “Take a fuckin’ hike”; Agents Rack and Ruin, my weapons and the Agency’s plain-Jane Blue Chevy were all nestled snugger than buggers in ruggers in the belly of the thundering C-130.
Now truly on my own, I trudge the hundred thousand or so centisteps to my departure terminal, make a quick recon that my flight’s still slated to go in a generally westward direction, and hightail it to the nearest courtesy desk to ask for a motorized cart to take me and my remaining luggage to the JAL Hospitality Suite.
Hey. I’m old, infirm, and currently among the walking wounded.
Anyone that disagrees risks an Ankylosaur tail club swat or Thagomizer to the skull.
Finally ensconced in the JAL Hospitality Suite, Polo Lounge of course; I was drinking Tokyo Teas (3 oz. vodka, 2 oz. gin, 2 oz. rum, 1 oz. triple sec, 1 oz. Midori, good splash of lime juice, a slight splash of 7-Up (diet, of course), over ice with a lime wheel) with Pabst Blue Ribbon Extra 1844 chasers and Hangar One’s “Fog Point” vodka on the side, hiding from the brutish realities of this foul year of two thousand and twenty-something, Common Era…
I’ve already called Esme and we’ve had a good, long chat. She still managed to give me her shopping list for whenever I find myself bored on the Ginza.
She’ll be shocked when she learns that I’m not going to be in Tokyo long, but have 1st class tickets on the Bullet Train to Sapporo. Still, I’ll probably find myself in Pole Town or the Stellar Place there, trading piles of US greenbacks for locally produced Japanese curios and clothing.
I can hardly wait.
I order another round of drinks, as the wonderful attendants in the Hospitality Suite were bored out of their skulls because of the COVID-induced drop-in customers flying anywhere that requires a hospitality room stay, and I was virtually the only one around. They tried their level best to outdo each other when it comes to Japanese efficiency and friendliness.
After a couple of hours, they ask if I would like something from the grill, as the day chef had “the COVID” and the night chef just arrived. A quick perusal of the menu and I chose a 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse and another round of drinks.
I usually don’t like to eat too much before I fly, but JAL tells me the flight is going to be virtually empty, something like <121 pax, all told, so restroom availability shouldn’t be too much of a concern.
Plus, who am I to say no to a free, blue 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse?
There was a bit of difficulty conveying to the chef through the intermediaries of the hospitality just how I wanted my steak.
“Blue,” I said.
“Brue?” was the reply.
“Rare. Very, very rare.” I continued.
Look of total bewilderment.
I drag out my Personal Language Pro, speak “Steak, very, very rate” into the infernal gizmo, and hand the contraption to the attendant.
“珍しい、非常に珍しいステーキ?”[ Mezurashī, hijō ni mezurashī sutēki?]
“Raw! Nama!” I say, louder than need be.
They toddle off to find the chef.
“How is it sir, that you would like your steak cooked?” he asks.
“Very rare. Just a minute or two per side. Inside still cold.” I instructed.
All I got for the trouble was a puzzled smile.
“Give me the language gizmo…” I type in a few words…
“お尻を洗い、角をノックオフして、ここから出してください”
[O shiri o arai,-kaku o nokkuofu shite, koko kara dashite kudasai.]
“Wash its ass, knock its horns off, and walk it out here.”
“OH!” as the lightbulb pops. “Rare. Got it! Excellent!” the chef laughs and zips back to the kitchen.
Like I always say, I’m nothing if not the international ambassador of amity and goodwill.
“Crack tubes!”
Dinner was fantastic. I do wish I could have somehow mailed the Porterhouse bone back home for Khan. After that hambone incident, he might even taste it.
Finally on the plane, in an almost empty Business Class, the flight captain informs us that we’re headed to Haneda Airport Tokyo and anyone not headed in that direction better ‘haul ass off’ the flight or forever hold their peace.
Late-night international flights tend to be a bit more wooly than your average Chicago to Omaha gig.
Especially when the flight’s damn near empty and we have the next 12 hours or so to be best friends.
We taxi, turn and head into the wind. I’m doctoring up a couple of dossiers and keeping my personal cabin attendant, Luna since there were two of us in Business and two business flight attendants, busy with her trying to play ‘Stump the Geologist’.
“I’ll bet you never had this before.” She beamed and handed me a tumbler of very dangerous-looking brown liquor.
I cautiously sniff, take a modest gulp, swirl and glug the rest down.
“Ohishi Single Sherry Cask”, I say with a muffled belch. “Light. Fruity. An Englishman’s drink.”
“Oh. You knew. Let me try again.” She smiles beatifically.
“I have no objections to your proposal.” I smile as nicely as this crotchety old Komodo Dragon could.
She returns with another flagon of spirits; it smells of obsidian, leather, and earth.
I just had some of this back in LAX. I take a snort, smile, and shotgun the rest.
“Hibiki Japanese Harmony…lovely stuff.” I smile. “A little light for my jaded palate, but I’d never turn it down if it were free.”
“Oh, you win again. Wait. One more.” She smiles and skitters off to the galley.
She returns with another soupçon of some more dangerous brown liquor.
“Here, try this. It will make you very popular at social gatherings”. She smiles.
Sniff. “Splendid.” Snort. Swirl. Smile. Shotgun.
“Kanosuke New Born, if I’m not mistaken.” I smile back. “Very nice. I really do like this one.”
“You too good at this. One more!” she stands and stomps off defiantly. She returns in a trice and hands me the glass.
“Hmm…brown. Light notes of earth, leather, dating your daughter, and Kentucky…
“Beam Suntory, right?”
“You know them all!” she says, feigning irritation.
“And I thank you. Those were all excellent. Now, anything in the dangerous clear liquor category? I asked.
Luna smiled as I palmed off a 20k yen tip.
“Oh, no sir. Wait until we land.” She demurred, referring to the gratuity; which is know is not de rigueur in the Orient, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Just in case we never make it to Tokyo”, I laughed, unknowingly presciently.
We both chuckled about that last line as she tried out various sakes and shōchūs and an actual Japanese ‘White Liquor’ (ホワイトリカー), which were all excellent as was the company.
I tell her that I need to get some work done and could she bring me a tall Rocknocker. After explain the origins and construction of the eponymous drink, she brings me one that must tip the scales at 1 or so liters.
She settles down to an empty seat and I get after the work that I need to finish before we land. I’m about ½ way through my drink when it felt as if the plane hit a brick wall. She quivered and quaked and clutched at herself while I made some comments about the pilot’s mental health.
We dropped like a paralyzed falcon, then just as suddenly, felt like it was an express elevator to Angel’s 11. The plane bucked and shimmied, wickedly. Then we slam-danced right and fell a few more stories. It was like we were in a Mixmaster and the owner was trying out every speed.
The emergency lights in the 777-300ER popped on, and the fasten seat belt sign barked loudly so even sleeping travelers could enjoy the show.
Rinse. Spin. Shudder. Repeat.
Finally, the ride smooths out and we hear the captain on the blower.
“This is your captain speaking…ah, we seem to have hit some uncharted turbulence back there.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious”, I muttered.
“Everything’s A-OK. “ he reports.
“That’s good”, I note.
“But…”
“There’s always the but…” I groan.
“…we have a couple of warning lights for which we can’t quite account. So to just be safe and certain, we’re going to divert to Hawaii, get a clean bill of health and resume this flight once we make sure everything here is hunky-dory.”
There were scattered groans and applause. Add them together and divide by two and the average response on the flight was “Meh. Whatever.”
Except for the other guy in Business, with whom I hadn’t shared two words. He began to absolutely lose his shit.
“Oh, man! We’re so screwed! Mechanical malfunction? What does that mean?” he positively fizzed with fear.
The flight attendants tried to calm him down, to no avail. They basically gave up and said they’d report his misgivings to the Captain.
I motioned over to my personal flight attendant, Luna, and asked if I could be of service.
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled at me, “If you could speak with him. You are so calm, and he is…”
“Losing his bloody mind”, I chuckled as I finished her sentence for her. “Of course, I’ll take a stab at it.”
So, I grab my drink and ease over to my Business Class partner and introduce myself.
“Hey, pal. How’s it going? I’m Dr. Rock, gentleman, scholar, and connoisseur of cigars and things alcoholic. You doing OK?”
He looks at me with an ashen face and his eyes the size of bloodshot dinner plates.
“Yeah. I’m Todd Schotts. I’m flying to Japan for business.” He mumbles
“No surprise there,” I reply calmly and take a slug of my drink.
“But now we’re all going to die. The plane is busted and we’ll crash…” he started off again.
“So, Todd is it? Good. You drink?” I asked.
“Yeah?”, he stammered back.
I asked Luna to make us a fresh batch of my eponymous cocktails.
“OK, Todd, listen up”, I began after the drinks were served, “I have flown literally millions of miles over the last 4 decades. On Aeroflot when it was still the USSR. On TACA (Take A Chance Airways), on Chalk’s in the Caribbean, on Bob’s Verrifast Plane Company in Rhodesia, on regional carriers that don’t even exist anymore. All over the world. Had some bad experiences flying, and me ol’ mugger, this ain’t one of them. This is nothing more than the glitch for this mission.”
I chuckled lightly and complimented Luna on a fantastic drink.
“Yeah…yeah…yeah…but we have to land and check out some lights…” Todd squealed.
“Well now, Todd. It would be rather difficult to do any external assessment while in flight, don’t you agree?” I asked.
“But we’re diverting. We have to land and that adds more risk. We’re going to crash and die!” he was coming more and more unglued.
“I will bet you every cent you have on your person and home bank accounts that that will not happen”, I chuckled.
That took him by surprise. At least it shut him up for a while.
“Look, Todd. This is Boeing’s latest model. They have the most incredible safety record. And if a little clear air turbulence were to be knocking planes out of the sky, don’t you think we’d hear about it as the press went berserk?” I asked.
“But they don’t know what the lights mean! What if one of the engines’s out? How far can we fly on one engine?” Todd stuttered.
Having my fill of a supposedly grown man with inane childlike fears, I calmly replied,
“All the way to the crash site.”
He went white.
“...hope we hit something hard. I don’t want to limp away from this.”
He went limp.
Then I went to my seat and motioned for Luna to prepare a reload.
Of course, 45 minutes later, we land without incident at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, Honolulu Hawaii.
We were told to just wait around until they figure out what the problem if any, was.
They had officials waiting at the end of the jetway to check our COVID status and passports before they let us loose in the terminal.
I asked Luna if she knew this airport. She noted that she did.
“Is there a JAL hospitality room here at this airport? I asked.
“Yes, Doctor. It’s the Sakura Lounge. It is located on the third level above The Local, Terminal 2.” She replied.
“Please notify whoever needs to know that that’s where I’ll be for the duration”, I smiled and handed her my business card. “See you soon, I hope.”
“Oh, Dr. Rock”, she replied, “I am sure it is nothing much. We’ll be back in the air within mere hours.”
“Well then”, I smiled, “Guess I’d better get ready to hoof it to the lounge.”
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled, “No rush. I will call for you a courtesy cart. You are injured, you are Business, you are priority.”
“I love that Asian efficiency.” I smiled back and toddled down the jetway.
At the terminus of the jetway, I show my COVID-clear papers, dates and times of my Anti-Virus vaccine administrations, the letter from Virginia clearing me of all detention, and my red Russian diplomatic passport.
While in the cart, whizzing our way to the JAL lounge, the driver said “Man! You must be some kind of VIP. You were through that welcoming committee in less than two minutes!”
“Me? Nah!”, I chuckled, “Just an old phart of a geologist that they didn’t want to mess with. Not on such a bright, sunny day as this.”
“I see you’re not wearing a mask.” The driver quipped.
“Very observant. There are reasons for that.” I replied.
He careens around a corner and if this were a normal pre-Covid day, I’m certain we’d have killed hundreds. However, the airport, as I’ve come to grow accustomed to, was virtually deserted.
“Yeah? Like what?” he asks.
“Well, Scooter, 1. I have an active and hardworking immune system that I let off the chain every once in a while for exercise. Got to let it know what it’s up against, right? 2. I’ve had all my shots and some that were experimental. They seem to have worked. And 3. I find it difficult to drink and smoke cigars while wearing a mask. However, if you’d prefer, I will mask up. No problem, though it still is optional.”
“Nah, man”, he said, “I was just wondering if you were one of those religious idiots or conspiracy nuts.”
Nope”, I smiled back, “Just another geologist out in the world plying his trade for cash. Y’know, whorin’ around for money.”
He laughs aloud as we skid to a stop right in front of Lounge.
I slip the guy a $20 and ask if he’d listen for the JAL flight I was just on. If we’re going on ahead today, I’d need him to scoot by and putt-putt me back to the plane.
He laughs and pockets the $20 as quick as a mink ruts.
“No worries. I’ll just hang around this area. I hear anything about the flight, I’ll come and let you know.” He grins.
“Good man”, I say, as I hand him my card. “I’m Dr. Rocknocker. Call me Rock”.
“And I’m Kapula Mano, call me Kap” he replies.
“Good man”, I say again, “Hope to see you in a while.”
He grins, floors his electric cart, and peels out at speeds approaching 4.5 MPH.
I wander into the lounge, show my credentials, and am escorted to a post up on Mahogany Ridge.
The bar is very quiet. Besides the bartender, I can’t see anyone else in the darkened and Smooth Jazz-infused drinking emporium.
I order a local drink, a Mai Tai, just for the experience and something a bit different.
It’s served in a goldfish bowl on a stem, bedecked with a slice of lime, a sprig of mint, a stick of sugar cane, a polychromatic orchid, and the obligate paper umbrella.
“Ah. Mai Tai. I will enjoy it.” I said to no one in particular.
One was enough, and I decided to go back to the old standard. Once I explained to the bartender what that was, he made them heroic and enthusiastically.
I’m reading up on a random dossier, making notes in a new file, and puffing away on a Fuentes Onyx double Maduro Churchill cigar.
I hear a slight cough coming from my right, and this here lovely lady, she sat to my immediate starboard and looked at me semi-quizzically.
Not in the mood for shenanigans of any stripe, I give her the obligate Baja Canada nod and tilt of the drink. I return to my dossiers and continue to read and take notes.
“Excuse me!” I hear.
Fearing the worst, either the woman is Karen-oid anti-smoking or a religious fruit-and-nutburger, I slowly turn to face her and reply, somewhat glacially, I have to admit.
“What?”
“That cigar…”
“Here we go…” I mutter, eyes rolling northward.
“Smells exquisite. Could you tell me the brand? My husband would enjoy some like that.” She notes.
Instantly my demeanor switches 1800.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s an Arturo Fuentes Onyx. Churchill size, or 60 ring x 7” length, double Maduro. Here, take one for your husband. I have an ample supply.” I smile.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Could I?” she asks.
“Please. I insist.” I smile the best I could given the circumstances.
“Thank you. You’re too kind…umm…Mr….?”
“Doctor. Doctor Rocknocker. World traveler, oilman, and international ambassador of amity, good drinks, and fine cigars. Call me Rock” I said.
“Oh! A Doctor?” she brightens.
“Yes, of Petroleum Geology and Engineering. Not medicine.” I chuckle.
She chuckles back.
“And I am Hella Aaberg”, as she offers her hand for a quick shake.
“Interesting name, Hella. Scandinavian or Old German heritage?” I ask.
“On my father’s side. He’s Finnish.” She replies.
“But I’ll wager your mother is not Scandinavian, correct?” I ask.
“She was from Truk, an island…”
“In the South Pacific, Micronesia. Was she from Weno city?” I asked.
“Why yes. How could you possibly know that?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve been there. Great diving amongst the WWII wrecks. I think it’s actually called ‘Chuuk Lagoon’ or something like that now.” I said.
“That’s right! Amazing. Where else have you been?” she asked.
“Anywhere there’s oil, strife, booze, cigars, heavy explosives and typically long distances from whatever most normal people call civilization,” I replied with a chuckle.
Suddenly, I hear a voice booming out behind me.
“Why don’t you save that rapier-like wit for those musky-fuckers back home, Rocko?”
My expression changes. My eyes pop fully wide open.
“Hella?” I asked.
“Yes?”
“May I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask…”
“Thank you. Now, looking over my shoulder, is there a hulking goon of a person, thin up top, paunchy halfway down with the most ridiculously tiny sized shoes you’ve ever seen for a so-called grown man?” I ask.
“Yes. Yes, there is.” She replies.
“I thought so. Many thanks.”
I spin and launch off my barstool and grab Toivo by the hand. He hadn’t seen my left-hand Thagomizer yet.
“Toivo! You old sumbitch. What the flying fennec fox fuck are you, of all people, doing in Hawaii?” I laughed.
“Just keeping an eye on you, Rock!” he laughed equally as loud.
“No, fucking-A, seriously. What the actual fuck? What are you doing in this actual nice place?” I asked.
“Just headed to Tokyo to conduct a bit of service company business. I walked into the lounge and smelled a foul cigar. I figured it can’t be the venerable Dr. Rocknocker. He’s back at some school up north terrorizing geology and engineering grads and undergrads.” Toivo laughed.
“But there I was. Surprise!”, I laughed and pumped his hand.
“What the fuck, Rock. Now what did you do?” he asks, referring to my Ankylosaur tail club left hand.
“Ah, fuck. Long story. Oh, pardon me. Toivo, this is Hella. We were just talking about the South Seas Islands.” I said.
“Planning on running off together?” Toivo laughs, to the amusement of neither party.
“Oh, and this idiot is Toivo, a man with a congenital foot-in-mouth disorder. He’s mostly harmless.” I noted to Hella.
Greetings were shared all around. Hella made some small excuses and said she needed to depart. I gave her another cigar for her husband, shook her hand, and wished her well.
“Here’s my business card. If your husband has any questions, have him drop me a line.” I noted.
Hella smiled beautifully. She said she would. Then she thanked me shook our hands, and like that, there she was, gone.
“Well Toivo, you old bastard. Don't just stand there in the doorway like some lonesome goddamn mouse shit sheepherder, get your ass over here and have a drink.” I motioned over to my perch on Mahogany Ridge.
“Don’t mind if I do”, he says as he deftly winds his way to a seat to my left, snagging a cigar out of my pocket on the way over.
“You might want these”, I say in an exasperated tone, and hand him my gold Dunhill Hobnail lighter and V-cutter gizmo.
He cuts and fires up his heater.
“What you drinkin’, Rock”, he asks.
“Anything with alcohol, as usual. You know that Toiv.” I reply.
“No. I mean right now.” He clarifies.
“Well, I had a Mai Tai. Very nice if you like fruity, flowery drinks. It’s the locals’ favorite.” I reply.
“Sounds good. I’ll have several. And you?” Toivo asks.
“My usual. The bartender is already apprised of the situation.” I reply.
Toivo smiles the smile of one knowing his sobriety is going to be taken out for a swim. Hell, taken out and tossed into the deep end.
Toivo and I sit there, swapping lies, smoking cigars and sipping at our toddies.
Hell, Toivo was slurping them like a sump-pump during an extra-wet summer.
We chattered about family, work, whether or not Tokyo was going to host the Olympics or if the COVID-boogie man scared everyone off.
Toivo, always one afflicted with TB (“Tiny Bladder”) got up to go to the loo for the third time that hour. He left his pocket organizer on the bar and I swear on a stack of Origins of Species, I didn’t touch it.
I reached over to his vacated seat to retrieve my cigar lighter when I looked down and saw in his organizer a tab that reads “Rack & Ruin”.
“Oh. No. Fucking. Way.” I recoiled as I’d just reached out and petted a 6-foot hungover scorpion.
“One of my best friends? Secretly allied with the Agency? No. Not possible.” I drained my drink and called for another.
“No. No. No. It can’t be. No. No fucking way…” as doubt began to dissolve when I thought back to all those times I had just ‘run into’ Toivo.
“But he’s oil patch as well. That could be chalked up to coincidence.” I ruminated quizzically in my brain.
I quickly reflected back on J.M. Darhower: “Yes, you see, there’s no such thing as coincidence. There are no accidents in life. Everything that happens is the result of a calculated move that leads us to where we are.”
She may be the author of the execrable New Adult Sempre series, which Esme likes and I loathe, but she might just be right on this occasion.
Toivo return, lighter in the bladder and good sense. He never even noticed he’d left his organizer out in broad bar light for all to see.
“So, Toivo, when’s your flight?” I ask.
“Oh, man. Was I lucky. The JAL flight to Tokyo from Los Angeles had mechanical trouble and had to divert here. I got a ticket on the plane for that flight, when it continues.
“You mean ‘if it continues’,” I replied.
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I meant. Hey! Was that your flight?” he asks innocently. He’s really innocent of fieldcraft.
I decide to have some fun at my old friend’s expense.
“Yep. Hit some CAT (Clear Air Turbulence) and the JAL pilots reported some lighting problem. No apparent ruin to any of the systems. They relay racked their brains to figure it out, but they couldn’t that’s why I here.” I said, waiting for the words to swim upstream in Toivo’s coconut and make some sort of connection.
“Yeah. Double lucky. No problem with the plane and I get to go to Japan early.” Toivo crookedly grins.
“So, no trouble with the plane? Then why haven’t I heard that the flight’s going to resume?” I asked as I pushed a fresh, seriously strong drink to Toivo.
“Oh, must have heard it in the john.” Toivo countered and tried to cover his tracks by taking a huge gulp of his drink and damn near dying coughing.
I pound on Toivo’s back.
“Heimlich time?” I ask.
Toivo signals ‘no’.
“Jesus Christ, Rock. What was that?” he asks.
“Just my usual”, I innocently replied.
“Holy fuck. No wonder you have the reputation of…” Toivo realizes too late that he’s said too much.
“Yeah. They can rack you out. Really ruin a person if they’re not careful.” I reply icily.
“Why, Rock. Whatever do you mean?” Toivo slurred as he realized he’s been caught out.
“The jig is up, you turncoat. You know Agents Rack and Ruin from the agency. Right? You keeping tabs on me for them? You Quisling! You Benedict Arnold!” I almost was on the verge of losing my cool.
“It was nothing. They approached me years ago as I kept being mentioned in your reports. They asked me for some information. One thing leads to another…” Toivo was ready for an Ankylosaur tail club swat to the bean.
“Oh, put your fucking hands down, you asshole.” I smiled and chuckled.
“You’re not mad?” Toivo slurred badly. I had the bartender make him another special drink.
“No, Toivo. Not mad. Just disappointed.” I said, smiling like a Komodo Dragon just finishing up a fortnight-old wildebeest.
Toivo sat there and puzzled and puzzled until his puzzler was sore.
“You’re not going to kill me or anything rude like that?” Toivo asked, half-assedly trying to inject humor into the proceedings.
“Nah. The paperwork’s too ridiculous for me to do another liberation. But, Jesus Fucking Christwagons, Toivo; you could have mentioned it to me. Fuck, I thought we were friends to the end?” I said, dejectedly.
I was really getting through to Toivo. I could tell he was loaded; feeling like shit and massively deplorable.
Great fieldcraft, indeed.
I told him things “are what they are” and that I won’t blow his cover nor his honorarium.
He began to feel better. I often wonder if he was serious about the sanctioning thing.
Then I delivered the strategic missile strike.
“Just remember, Toivo. I wrote your dossier for the Company…”
He swivels to look at me.
“And one for the KGB. Olga says ‘howdy’.” I grin evilly.
Toivo short-circuited at that. Russia is his company’s bread and butter. Now he has the KGB as well as his best buddy looking over his shoulder at every move.
I bought him a few more drinks and continued to needle him about his ’leading a double life’. He was well and truly fuckered when the electric tap-tap driver from before came looking for me to whisk me back to the plane.
Seems it was simply some knocked-out wires on the plane, or slammed bulbs that were generating a false positive, indicating something other than the system that alerts one to something haywire went haywire.
Toivo was pretty much down for the count. I got him sober enough to hand them his ticket and ensure that he was really supposed to be on this flight. Thing was; h e was in Economy, and I was, as always, in Business.
I spoke to Luna, and the plane was going to be even less crowded than previously because some folks could or wouldn’t wait, or didn’t want to go on with the rest of the trip on a ‘damaged’ aircraft, or were just stupid and superstitious.
“Luna, could I pay for the difference between Business and Economy for my less than 100% conscious friend here? He’s had a rough day.” I asked.
“Dr. Rock. Just put him into Business. No one will be the wiser. Luna says so.” As she gave us a grand smile.
“Luna, I owe you. Thanks so much.” I said.
“Now get on board. Your friend looks like he needs all the downtime he can get.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I said and saluted here be best I could which dragging a schnozzled Toivo down the jetway.
I dumped Toivo in a window seat well away from my seat. I know Toivo. He snores like a semi-load of live hogs rocketing downhill locking up the brakes at 88 MPH.
Surprise! There was no one else in Business. Luna looked at me, at Toivo, and gave me a thumbs up.
Whatever I can write to further her career at JAL, she’ll have it before I deplane.
We finally get everyone settled, and with Captain Kangaroo at the helm, we bounced gracelessly off the tarmac, into the warm, tropical Hawaiian air, finally headed for the Land of the Rising Sun.
Toivo was snoring like a chainsaw hitting rusty nails as I worked on the various letters, communiques, and dossiers which needed updating before we reached touchdown. I gave Luna a thick letter with instructions not to open it until we were on the ground and Toivo and I were well off and away into the terminal.
We left Hawaii at 1300 hours, so we should arrive at Tokyo Nareda around 4:00 pm, the previous day. I was so bereft of time and time zones, I couldn’t figure out what time it really was, as judged by my biometric rhythms, so I asked Luna for a stiff drink as I was kicking off my boots and going to attempt to get some kip.
She brought me another liter or so eponymous drink. I was sawing logs by the time I slurped the last swig of that nifty drink.
Suddenly, or later, I have no idea really, some loudmouth drunk asshole from way-the-fuck-back in economy-land toward the ass end of the plane staggered into Business demanding free drinks.
Luna was nothing but civil, and asked him to both shut up and return to his seat. His air cabin hostess, or whatever the fuck they’re calling them these days, will attend to his needs.
“Naw they won’t! They want me to pay for more drinks! I’m broke but I demand more booze! You fucking owe me.” railed the asshole. “I sat at the bar in Hawaii for four hours. Them fuckers charged me an arm and a leg!”
“No, they don’t owe you shit”, I said in a voice that unmistakably loud and clear.
“Fuck you, old man! You stay the fuck out of this!” he bellowed. “Shut up or I’ll do ya’!”
“’Old man’? ‘Do me’? Excuse me. Luna, may I have a word alone with this individual?” I asked sweetly.
Luna shook her head in the affirmative, and I stood up to confront this flagrant asshole.
“Now look, Scooter. You have gone way, way over the fucking line. You are loud. You are abusive. You are obnoxious. And you stink. Plus you insulted a person who is just barely containing his righteous wrath right now. So, I’m giving you one and one only chance to shut up, sit back down before your body spontaneously develops all sort of bruises, contusions, broken bones, and unconsciousness.” I said calmly, evenly, and threateningly.
“What da’ fuck you think you’re going to do…old man?” he screeched, trying to inflate himself into full mammalian threat posture, all 5’ 9” of it.
He didn’t notice Toivo walking up quietly behind him, as Toivo was returning from the head, quiet as a moose.
“Well, Scooter, I am an Air Marshall. Duly appointed, fully trained, and properly pissed off. Right now, I can arrest you, physically detain you, turn this flight around and take you to the Hawaiian police, at your cost for the inconvenience of the entire flight. Or I could arrest you, physically detain you, and turn you over to the Japanese authorities when we land. It’s really your choice. Choose wisely.”
To be continued…
submitted by Rocknocker to Rocknocker [link] [comments]

Royal Blaze : A Beginners Guide on How to Upgrade Leon's Charizard Theme Deck

Disclaimer:

  1. Since the aim for this guide is for beginners, the cards used in this list are mostly staples and easy to get without breaking the bank. The gameplay is also very straight forward.
  2. This guide is made for Standard Format (Team Up-present).
  3. Wall of texts. Be prepared to get bored.

Preface:

Theme deck is mainly catered towards people who are new into the Pokemon TCG series. It gives you bunch of archetypes, trainers and energies. Perfect, and it should win you games right? The answer is, Yes and No.
If you played against other theme decks and enjoy a long, slow and boring ass pace game, the answer will be yes. If you enjoy a faster and more explosive environment, then the answer will definitely will be no.
"Bro, but muh deck is winning a lot". Again, the answer will be split into two. The answer is Yes, if you played against your friend Tier 5 Bulbasaur deck. If you played against a competitive player with competitive deck, you will be annihilated in no time.
Fear not my friends. We can avoid these mistakes by going through them and try to understand why there are considered as mistakes in the first place. Let's take a look at the default deck list for Charizard Theme Deck below, and how to fix them.
What do we have here? 18 Fire Energies? Well, time to pack it up boys.
Pokemon Trainers Energy
1 Lugia DAA 140 2 Bede SSH 157 18 Fire Energy SWSHEnergy 2
2 Sudowoodo SSH 100 2 Dan RCL 158
3 Charmander VIV 23 1 Evolution Incense SSH 163
3 Charmeleon VIV 24 2 Great Ball SSH 164
2 Charizard VIV 25 4 Hop SSH 165
3 Slugma VIV 27 2 Leon VIV 154
2 Magcargo VIV 28 2 Ordinary Rod SSH 171
3 Yanma VIV 6 2 Professor's Research SSH 178
2 Yanmega VIV 7 2 Sonia RCL 167
2 Switch SSH 183

Why Theme Deck sucks #1:

Pyramid lines and useless Pokemon Supporter:
  1. Pyramid lines, as the name suggest is the evolution lines of Basic, Stage 1 and Stage 2 Pokemon in the deck. Take a look at the Charizard evolution line in the default deck which is 3-3-2, which denotes for 3 Charmander, 3 Charmeleon and 2 Charizard. It's simply a recipe of disaster.
  2. Let's say you have one of your Charizard in the prize cards, what are you going to do with the leftover 2 Charmander and 2 Charmeleon? The answer is, you are left with useless Pokémon that can't evolve taking up space in your deck.
  3. Pokemon other than Charizard archetype slows down the deck and doesn't unlock Charizard full potential because they have no synergies whatsoever.
How to Unsuck:
  1. Choose a focus, in this case our main deck is all about attacking with Charizard. In order to do this, add more stable evolution lines for Charizard. You could go with 4-4-4, 4-3-3 or 4-2-4 but since Charmeleon is a weak stage, we need to get to Charizard as soon as possible while conserving deck space for important Trainers. For this case, we will be using 4-1-4 by using Rare Candy to skip Stage 1 if possible. Consider the one line of Charmeleon as your insurance policy, in case you didn't get a Charizard.
  2. Remove all other Pokemon from the deck, because we will be replacing them with other Pokemon that will actually gets the job done. You can refer the Pokemon cards below.
Replacements/Additions:
3 Snorlax VIV 131:
1 Oranguru SSH 148
1 Dedenne GX UNB 57
1 Oricorio GX CEC 95

Why Theme Deck sucks #2:

Lack of Trainer cards or having some inconsistent one:
  1. In the original deck list, this deck has 21 Trainers and 18 Energies. If you take a look at any competitive deck list, the amount of Trainers are huge. It could range from 25-30 or even more, which are not surprising because they are so vital in the deck.
  2. Trainers are extremely important part that most beginners overlooked. You cannot win the game simply with only Trainers but they help you search the deck by getting what you need to setup your game plan. Competitive environment is fierce and most of the deck is setup as fast as possible.
  3. If you don’t have enough Trainers, your opponent will set up faster than you and they will be in a huge advantage throughout the match. The more Trainers you have, the chance of you winning the game also increases.
How to Unsuck:
  1. To boost consistency, you can't expect to just throw random Trainers and hope it would work. In the original deck list, some Trainers just doesn't serve a purpose or outclassed by another better Trainers. In this case, we are going to remove Bede, Dan, Great Ball, Hop and Sonia.
Replacements/Additions:
4 Leon VIV 154
3 Professor's Research SSH 178
3 Welder UNB 189
2 Boss's Order RCL 154
4 Quick Ball SSH 179
4 Pokemon Communication TEU 152
4 Rare Candy SSH 180
4 Pokégear 3.0 SSH 174
2 Ordinary Rod SSH 171
2 Switch SSH 183
2 Evolution Incense SSH 163
1 Fire Crystal UNB 173
2 Giant Hearth UNM 197

Why Theme Deck sucks #3:

The amount of Fire Energies...it's over 9000!!:
  1. The bane of existence for every deck ever. We can point our fingers entirely on theme decks for this. 18 Fire Energies? What a Goku we have here.
  2. A rule of thumb; if you run a low-Energy deck, nine or less Energies will do it. For average, I will say maybe about 7-8 Energies.
  3. Why having less energies is important? First, you don’t want to keep drawing into them when you can only play one per turn. Second, you can search for them using Trainer cards, which is Giant Hearth in this deck. Having too much energies prevents you from drawing into Trainer cards or even Pokemons.
  4. A general advice; avoid inserting more than 12 Energy unless you know well what you’re doing.
How to Unsuck:

Revamped Deck

Now this looks more promising.
Pokemon Trainers Energy
4 Charmander VIV 23 4 Leon VIV 154 8 Fire Energy SWSHEnergy 2
1 Charmeleon VIV 24 3 Professor's Research SSH 178
4 Charizard VIV 25 3 Welder UNB 189
3 Snorlax VIV 131 2 Boss's Order RCL 154
1 Oranguru SSH 148 4 Quick Ball SSH 179
1 Dedenne GX UNB 57 4 Pokemon Communication TEU 152
1 Oricorio GX CEC 95 4 Rare Candy SSH 180
4 Pokégear 3.0 SSH 174
2 Ordinary Rod SSH 171
2 Switch SSH 183
2 Evolution Incense SSH 163
1 Fire Crystal UNB 173
2 Giant Hearth UNM 197
Import List For PTCGO:

##Pokémon - 15
* 1 Oranguru SSH 148
* 3 Snorlax VIV 131
* 4 Charmander VIV 23
* 1 Charmeleon VIV 24
* 4 Charizard VIV 25
* 1 Dedenne-GX UNB 195
* 1 Oricorio-GX CEC 95
##Trainer Cards - 37
* 4 Leon VIV 154
* 3 Professor's Research SSH 178
* 3 Welder UNB 189
* 2 Boss's Orders RCL 154
* 4 Quick Ball SSH 179
* 4 Pokémon Communication TEU 152
* 4 Rare Candy SSH 180
* 4 Pokégear 3.0 SSH 174
* 2 Ordinary Rod SSH 171
* 2 Switch SSH 183
* 2 Evolution Incense SSH 163
* 1 Fire Crystal UNB 173
* 2 Giant Hearth UNM 197
##Energy - 8
* 8 Fire Energy Energy 2
Now that we have done rebuilding the deck, it's time for some playtesting. Hope you learned something and have fun!
submitted by MR__47 to ptcgo [link] [comments]

I did simple math to know how long will an f2p/fish get a max con 5 star

(Someone help me if the flair should be tips or discussion pls, also sorry for the format, I'm on mobile)
TLDR at the bottom for lazy readers cuz this got unexpectedly a bit long.
(Edit: this is for long term meaning it'll take years so if you'll get angry that it only includes primos from dailies, then check at the end cuz I added other sources into the math)
(since people are not reading at the end, the mentioned years are only the WORST case scenarios and if you don't get your primos from events, mails, chests, or abyss. This was just for fun. If you're gonna come for me then read everything 🤡)
To get the guaranteed 5 star on the banner, you'll need to do at most 180 pulls.
 180 pulls = 28,800 primos 
To get the guaranteed 5 star on the banner and the 6 cons, you'll need at most 1,260 pulls or seven 180 pulls.
 1,260 pulls = 201,600 primos (wtf I can only imagine how much whales pull out of their wallets to max cons their 5 stars ;-;) 
If you're strictly f2p, not planning on dropping a single coin on the game, then excluding any events and abyss if you're weak for it/not interested, the only source of primogems you'll have is your daily commissions.
 1 day = 60 primos 
Since you'll need 1,260 pulls, that would be:
 60 primos × 365 days = 21,900 primos 201,600 ÷ 21,900 = 9.2 years or 9 years and 75 days 
This would mean that for a strictly f2p, at most you'd need to wait for 9 years and 75 days to max con one 5 star. Obviously it will be shorter if we consider the events, abyss, redeem codes, maintenance primos, being lucky in pulling, etc. But still, that's more than 5 fucking years to max con one 5 star.
Now, if you're a fish (someone who spend only a bit, on the welkin moons smth), you'll be spending like about $5 a month/$60 a year. That adds an additional 90 primos a day. The math would then be:
 1 day = 150 primos 150 primos × 365 days = 54,750 primos 201,600 ÷ 54,750 = 3.68 years or 3 years and 249 days 
...that's still a long time. BUT! 2.5 times shorter than being strictly f2p. Also, like what I said earlier, the time would be shorter than 3.68 years because of the events, abyss, etc.
Also, this is for the rate up banner only. This does not include the chances of getting the character in the standard banner from acquaint fates from the shop, summons, and/or events so the time also decreases by 1.3 years (for f2p) or 6.4 months (for fish)
So yeah, the idea of how long will it take for me to max con Zhongli on his rerun banner in the future made me do the math.
Am I gonna wait 3.68 years to max con Zhongli? You bet your ass I am. I downloaded the game because of him so I'm gonna main him and max con him 😤 (Cries cuz I won't get his weapon)
TLDR: This only takes account the primos that you get from daily commissions only (and from the welkin moon if you're a fish). This is the maximum time to get this many primos for guaranteed max cons 5 star
For strictly f2p = 9.2 years or 9 years and 75 days
For fish (only buys welkin moon) = 3.68 years or 3 years and 249 days.
(Edit: I did say in the middle that the years I mentioned were the MAXIMUM wait time. I also stated that the time will decrease by a lot because of other sources like the events, redeem codes, abyss, maintenance primos, being lucky in pulling, etc.
Meaning, if you don't do the events, don't claim the rewards/emails, don't do abyss and have terrible luck that you have to reach 180 pulls to get the character rate up cuz you lost in the soft pity then lost again cuz you had to reach all the way up to 90 pulls, only THEN will those years that I mention apply.
At the end of the day, this is just something that popped in my head and wanted to waste time for resin to generate. Please don't take it too seriously.)
Edit2: since y'all wanna be annoying, here's more math that includes chests, abyss, events (minimum cuz there is no exact), etc.
Adding to what's been mentioned, for f2p, if we include:
 500 primos from chests 600 primos from abyss, 6 stars every 2 weeks (1,200 if you 9 star all floors) 600 primos from events at minimum 
That adds up to an additional of 1,700 primos per month.
So, for f2p that would be 3,500 primos/month, 42,000/year, and 4.8 years to max cons one 5 star in their rate up banner.
For fishes, that would be 6,200 primos/month, 74,400/ year, and 2.71 years to max cons one 5 star in the rate up banner
This is assuming by the time you've collected all these primos is also the time their rate up is, otherwise the time is extended since you need to wait for their banner.
submitted by ThrowMeLotsOfCash to Genshin_Impact [link] [comments]

Play Less, Climb More. Warning: Dense read, only for Tryhards

Preface: I'm a 4'th year medical student with a passion for self-improvement and optimization. This includes my IRL skills as well as my gaming. How to improve faster, how to be more efficient with my time, how to reach new heights, feel and play better; these are the things that interest me and I try to find ways to do it through science. Some of you may have seen my previous posts on Meditation and Flow. You might have also noticed that I post on multiple competitive gaming subreddits. I do this because these are games I personally enjoy, have coached and/or have competed in and also because these tips and tricks are not title dependent. Everyone can benefit and even apply it for things IRL. I want to keep learning so please hit me with your own discoveries, tips and tricks. I'm genuinely pleasantly surprised with the responses and the chance to meet like minded individuals! This post is particularly dense and took a lot of time to research. I'll try to make it as concise as I can.
Practice makes perfect! You can do anything just practice, practice, practice!
We've all heard this but I'm here to add complexity to the statement in the hopes that it actually makes your climb much easier. Spending more time playing does not mean you are making a good use of it. Research shows a chess grandmaster has anywhere between 1,000 to 14,000 hours dedicated to his game. Let's put this in perspective: 1,000 hrs = 41 days; 14,000 hrs = 1 year 218 days.
You could say some people are just born geniuses but research also shows that the top 1% actually practices LESS than their peers.
Also, for those of slightly advanced age (like myself at 28) frustrated with 13 year old's styling on us, this paper might help you feel better.

The Science of Accelerated Learning

A little biology (for nerds like me)
http://www.ccnss.org/ccn_2011/materials/pdf/bhalla/nrn2963.pdf
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnhum.2018.00400/full#h3
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2019.02396/full
Components
I will only address purposeful practice here. Mind and Body are crucial. This includes things like mindset, motivation, exercise, nutrition, etc. There is a reason why Esport teams invest in physical trainers, nutritionists and psychologists. I will leave this for other posts.
TL;DR
Have clear and measurable goals. Break down the game to it's most important components. Find your OPT. Structure your practice. Be a one trick pony. Observe a master. Use Imagery. Incorporate variability and contextual interference. Always make it slightly more difficult. Practice in a realistic setting. Add risk. Use mornings and evenings. Intensity followed by rest for maximal learning. Repeat at increasing intervals. Measure and monitor your progress. Get feedback.

Purposeful Practice

  1. Structure
2. Timing
3. Feedback

I believe this to be a pretty good summary of most Purposeful Practice techniques. As stated I will make a post on Mind and Body to completely close out the Accelerated Learning topic. Please let me know what you thought and honestly congratulations if you actually read the whole thing. It shows you're an actual Tryhard and I'm sure this will help you become OP.
submitted by MetaDoc_OP to FortniteCompetitive [link] [comments]

Prinz and Planes

--Azur Main--
--Iron Blood Dorm--
--Noon--
“So Seydlitz, how do you like Azur Main so far?” Hipper asks Wesser as they walk towards her and Eugen's shared room.
Wesser nods. “It is quite a nice base compared to back home. The Flying Fortress, Azur Germany, is more of a military stronghold compared to this piece of paradise.”
“Ja.” Hipper smiles. “The Commander here made sure we are comfortable with our living spaces, so we get to design our own dormitories. Being Iron Blood, we had to have a brewery here. It is very helpful and profitable.”
“I bet.” They both enter the room and Wesser could tell the stark contrast between her sisters' halves. On the left side was neat, organized, clean. That was Hipper’s side. The right side was unorganized with loose pieces of clothing and empty mugs, cans, and bottles across the floor. That was Eugen’s side. Hipper sighs heavily and begins picking up her sister’s trash, while Wesser looks at her sister’s desk. On Hipper’s desk was an unpainted B-25 Mitchell Bomber 1/32 scale plastic model. The bomber plane model was neatly constructed with the mold lines cleanly shaved.
“Lovely model plane, Hipper.” Wesser compliments her sister’s work. “I remember watching your live streams making this with Bataan and I-13 with Mikasa reading chat.”
Hipper confidently smiles as she puts down the trash bag. “Hehe! Thank you Seydlitz! And a few days from now I get to paint it!” She smiles, proud of her hobby. “It took so long to find a historically accurate model of this bomber. So many websites visited, but I found this beauty.” Wesser leans in to touch it, but Hipper stops her. “Don’t! It is pretty fragile!”
“Oh, sorry.” She backs away as the blonde cruiser relaxes.
“Sorry about that.” She apologizes to the light carrier. “I get a bit worried when anyone other than Bataan, I-13, Mikasa, or myself, handle my model planes.”
“It is fine.” The redhead carrier shakes it off. “I understand. You are living with Eugen.”
“Yeah…” Hipper groans.
“Hayello!” Walking into the room was the energetic Prinz Heinrich, carrying an intoxicated Prinz Eugen. The long white hair P-Class cruiser smiles as she enters. Hipper looked annoyed as Eugen looked up at her, her face plastered with breath smelling like alcohol.
“Hallo, my flat sister.” Eugen teases.
Steam blew out of Hipper’s ear. “DID YOU SERIOUSLY HAD A BEER AT THIS TIME OF DAY!?!”
“Well, I was showing Heinrich around and we had a few at the Iron Pub.” Eugen giggles as she stands on her own. Heinrich rocks back and forth, still full of energy. “And we are on a vacation of sorts. So lighten up or else you won’t grow.”
“WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT MY CHEST!?” Hipper lets out, her anger bursting from her small stature.
“Eugen.” Wesser gets between them. “Please don't fight.”
“Hehehe,” Eugen wraps an arm around her light carrier sister. “Okay fine, Seydlitz.” Wesser could smell the beer from her breath.
“Heinrich, how much beer did you guys drink?” Wesser asked her.
“Ummm,” Heinrich starts to count with her fingers. “About maybe thirty pints or something like that.” Hipper facepalms as Wesser lets out a heavy sigh.
Eugen delightfully giggles. “You know it is not a vacation without some alcohol~” She starts to stumble, pushing Wesser and herself into Hipper’s desk. As she bumps the desk, the B-25 Bomber model starts to wobble before falling. Time slows down for Hipper as she despairingly watches as the model falls from the desk and hits the floor, shattering into pieces. Wesser looks down at the model and then to Hipper, while Eugen just hiccups.
“Whoopsie,” Eugen says with a somewhat drunken smirk. “Sorry about that Hipper.” Heinrich notices Hipper balls up her fist. She reaches into the trash bag of empty beer bottles and takes one out.
“YOU FUCKING HARLOT!!!!!!!!” Before anyone could react, Eugen is hit square in the head with an empty beer bottle by Hipper. Tears stream down her cheeks as the glass bottle shatters on impact. Blood starts to drip from Eugen’s head as Heinrich runs over to restrain the furious sister. “YOU DISGRACEFUL PIECE OF SHIT SISTER! FOR COUNTLESS DAYS, I DRAGGED YOUR FUCKING ASS BACK FROM THE BAR WHEN YOU WERE BLACKOUT DRUNK! EVERY TIME FOR DORM INSPECTIONS I CLEAN YOUR TRASH HEAP OF A ROOM! I MADE SURE YOUR CLOTH ARE CLEAN! BED MADE! YOUR FUCKING EMPTY BEER BOTTLES AND TANKARDS AND MUGS THROW OR CLEANED! I HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR BULLSHIT! YOUR TEASING! YOUR MESSES!”
“Hipper, calm down!” Heinrich tells her, but the Admiral is not backing now. She continued to berate the stun silence Eugen as Wesser took her to get medical attention.
The last thing Eugen heard as she left Hipper was: “I AM LEAVING YOU!!”
---
--Medical Faculty--
--Afternoon--
“And there. That should heal in about a day or two.” Dr. Comfort informs Eugen as she finishes removing the glass shards from her head. Wesser watches from the side, seeing Eugen smile and nods along to the Doctor’s orders. Before long, Eugen walks out of the room, her face nonchalant as it were.
“Eugen.” Wesser catches up to her. “Eugen. Eugen. Schwester!”
“Was?” Eugen turns to her, her hands behind her head.
“Schwester, are you okay?”
“I am fine, Seydlitz.”
“But Hipper seems genuinely upset by your… carelessness.”
Eugen shrugs, seemingly not caring about the situation. “It is Hipper. Always keeping her emotions bottled up. I am sure when I return back to the room, it will be back to normal.” Before Wesser could say a thing, Eugen strides forth out the door.
The light carrier sighs, rubbing her forehead. “I doubt so.”
--
As Eugen returns to her room, she sees that something was off. On Hipper’s side, everything was gone, like her sister’s belongings. Her model planes, her aviation books, her laptop, her small flower pot, even her pink cute flower pillow; everything her sister own was gone! The only thing left on her side was the broken model of the B-25 sitting on her desk. Eugen sighs and lays on her messy bed.
“Back to normal?” Eugen looks up to see Wesser, leaning against the door frame. “Heard from Heinrich that Hipper grabbed her belongings and went to the Royal Navy Dorm. Said that she will be staying with Grenville and Glowworm.”
Eugen waved it off. “Whatever. Sooner or later Hipper will come back.”
“I don’t know Eugen. I think you broke her patience with you.” Wesser tells her. “Heinrich said that she had tears running down her face as she stormed off towards the Royal’s housing.”
“As I said, she will be back,” Eugen repeats as she lays in bed. “I am going to take a nap. See you at dinner, Seydlitz.” The heavy cruiser pulls up the blanket and lays her head on the pillow. Wesser rolls her eyes and closes the door.
--Sometime later--
“Argh~~” Eugen yawns as she wakes up from her nap. “Wie spät ist es? [A/T: What time is it?]” She sits up, stretching her arms up.
“A bit after nine pm.” Someone tells her.
“Hmmm?” She stops her stretch and turns to see the Commander, sitting on Hipper’s old bed, with a plate of food on the nightstands.
He smiles at her. “Good nap, Eugen?”
“Yeah.” She sighs. Knowing him, he probably knows what happened with her and Hipper earlier today. “My dinner?” She points to the plate.
“Yeah,” He hands it to her. She digs it and before long, the food was gone. After the meal, the Commander begins his talk. “Prinz Eugen, I heard from Wesser and Heinrich about what happened early in the day with Hipper.”
Eugen knowing shrugs, brushing it off. “It is Hipper. She will be returning back to this room in a day or two.”
“Eugen,” The Commander says with a look of concern. “Don’t brush this off, please. You should at least genuinely apologize to her for destroying her model. You may think this is not a big deal, but given how much Hipper gave time to drag from being drunk and other messes, it is the least you can do.”
“It will be fine,” Again, Eugen shrugs it off.
The Commander sighs. “Prinz Eugen. Please don’t be nonchalant about this. You may be a good tactician and fighter on the sea, but on base, you just hang out the bar, flirt and tease others, get into fights with Wales, a lot of things with either Hipper, Bismarck, Tirpitz, or me having to step in. I don’t like it. They don’t like it. Eugen, please, just fix the mistakes with your sister.” He looks at her with concern, yet stern eyes. It may work with some shipgirls, but for Eugen, it doesn’t work. She just smiles and nods.
“I’ll try tomorrow morning.” Eugen offered as she stood up. “I will see you later, Kommandant. Night.” Before the Commander could ask where she was going or confirm that she would do it, she leaves and heads to the pub to serve herself a pint or two.
--The Next Day--
“Alright, time to begin some light exercise,” Tirpitz says over the crowd of transfers. “I, Tirpitz of the Iron Blood will be leading these exercises as the Kommandant has fallen a bit ill as of late. There will be a few targets out in the bay. Calibrate your dummy rounds for all ranges, hit your targets, then you are dismissed for the day. Questions?” No hands or comments. “Get started.” As the crowd starts to disburse, Bataan and I-13 run over to Hipper.
“Hipper!” Bataan calls to the Iron Blood cruiser. “Are you ready for the model stream this weekend? I cannot wait to paint that B-25!”
“Yup!” I-13 smiles as they activate their riggings and head to a dummy. Hipper, still angry for what happened yesterday, unleashed her full firepower, annihilating the dummy ship. Both Bataan and I-13 watch as Hipper lets out several breaths.
“Everything all right, Hipper?” The aviation sub asked her.
Hipper turns to her friends and just sighs, her fists clenched. “Tell Mikasa that we have to reschedule that stream… the B-25 Bomber model… has to be repaired.”
“HUH?!/WHAT!?” Both Bataan and I-13 yell in unison. “WHAT HAPPENED?!!”
“My blood Schwester! THAT WAS [A/T: What in german]!”
---
As that was happening, on the shore, Belfast approached Tirpitz.
“Greeting, Lady Tirpitz.” The maid bows.
“Hallo Belfast,” Tirpitz nods. “How is the Kommandant?”
“Master is okay at the moment.” Belfast sighs. “But we don’t know what has happened to him to cause his ailments.”
“Time will tell.” The white queen of the north states.
“Yes, it will.” Belfast nods. “But the Master gave me some orders for you.”
“It is about Eugen and Hipper?” Tirpitz knowingly asked.
“Yes.” The maid looks at the exercise. “Where is Eugen?”
“I know where she is,” Tirpitz begins to walk towards the Iron Pub. “Belfast, could please cover me for the training exercise?”
“Of course.” Belfast bows as Iron Blood battleship strides to the Pub. Entering the faculty, she sees the white-hair heavy cruiser slump on the bar with a half-drunken tankard of beer in her hand.
“Mein gott.” Tirpitz shakes her head. “Prinz Eugen…” She summons her flag and using the butt of the pole, she pokes her side.
“Urgh…” Eugen’s eyes flicker open as she is being probed. “Was?”
“Eugen, you are late for training,” Tirpitz says to her.
“It is vacation time, Tirpitz. Ah mein head.” Eugen moans as the battleship grabs her by the collar and drags her to the training grounds. As they approach, most of the shipgirls at training have gone off to enjoy some time off, leaving only Tirpitz, Eugen, and Belfast. As they approach the water, the pair of shipgirls walk past by Hipper, Bataan, and I-13. Hipper turned her head away, pouting, as Bataan and I-13 shot daggers at the hungover Eugen as they walked away.
“What their deal?” Eugen wonders as Tirpitz leads her to a target dummy.
“Eugen, just fire at the targets.” Tirpitz orders. Eugen nods and summons her rigging. She hits the target easily, even hungover she still is a good shot. As they continued running the course, Eugen could feel the Queen of the North staring at her.
“Tirpitz,” Eugen confronted her. “Something on your mind?”
Tirpitz takes a breath before speaking to her. “Eugen. It has come to my attention that both you and Hipper, had… a disagreement. A terrible one in fact.”
Eugen pouts as she finishes the last target. “Well, that is putting it lightly. I just accidentally broke one of her model planes, that was it.”
“That was it?” The battleship rubs her forehead. “From talking to Hipper, it seems you broke your sister’s patience and love! The teasing, the drinking, even cleaning! Prinz Eugen, please try to make amends with your sister.”
Now this, was making Eugen annoyed. She strides up to the battleship, arms crossed. “First the Kommandant, and now you? If Hipper mad at me, fine. She always has a pole up her ass anyway.”
“Eugen!!” The battleship was astonished by the comment as the heavy cruiser went back to the dock. “I am not done with you!!!”
“Ja. Ja.” Eugen waved it off as she got back on dry land. She then heads back to the Iron Blood dormitory.
Tirpitz returns to the dock, where Belfast awaits her. “Sorry, but Eugen is a…. well, a harlot.”
Belfast nods. “I understand. From what Wales complains about during afternoon tea time, Eugen finds her own way to do her own things.”
“Ja.” Tirpitz takes off her cap and stretches her head. “I wish that Prinz Eugen knew the value of having a sister at her side. Bismarck, even though we didn’t have quality time together before the Initiative, we are regaining it now. I understand the Kommandant does not want Eugen to lose that family connection, but I cannot fix this sister problem.”
“Excuse, but I think I can be of some assistance.” Both the maid and queen of the north turn to see the 206 cm tall (~6ft 9) Iron Matriarch towering before them.
“Miss FdG/Friedrich.” Both of them say as the PR ship smiles.
“I think I know how to get Prinz Eugen to understand the importance of a healthy relationship with her sister.” FdG smiles. “May I?”
“Of course.” Tirpitz nods.
---
The next two days saw Eugen become more… restless. More booze bottles lay on the floor with her bedding tossed around. Loose cloth scatters in the room. Eugen has also run late for patrols, gatherings, and other important stuff. It was a bit frustrating because Hipper would force her in line for important dates… that scene still ran through her head when her older sister had enough of her bullshit. The tears in her eyes when she hit her… Eugen wanted to say sorry; however, her pride and own stubbornness stopped her and her teasing side went into auto-pilot to cope with this drama. Either way, to Eugen, there was nothing to fix this sister relationship.
As she lay in her dirty bed, a knock came at her door. “Ja?” Eugen lifts her head up.
“It is Roon, Eugen.” She hears from behind the door. “FdG, would like you to come to her room.”
“Great, the matriarch has gotten involved now,” Eugen whispered to herself. Knowing her luck, she will probably be disciplined by FdG for her behavior. The wrath of her hairbrush has stuck many Shipgirls bottoms. From the mighty Bismarck to the bombardment messenger Victorious. Even Gangut, those that was an accident because the PR ship thought it was Zeppelin being drunk. Regardless, Eugen knew this day would come. Her uncleanliness, her teasing, her luck simply ran out.
“Eugen?” Roon says from behind the door. “Will you be going to FdG’s room?”
Eugen shakes herself and quickly changes into uniform. Smells a bit funny, but it was better than making the matriarch wait. “Ja.” She opens the door and Roon stands there with a kind smile.
“Alright, follow me please.” Roon escorts her to the room. After a few minutes walking in silence, they arrive. Roon opens the door and ushers her in. Once Eugen was inside, the door closed behind her. Even though Iron Blood shipgirls are trained to show no fear… Eugen could not help but quake being inside the Iron Matriarch's bedroom. The room was grand. A canopy bed made of dark wood, covered in the finest fabrics. The wooden flooring polish. Several instruments hang on the walls. A grand piano sits in her chamber as well! The most prominent piece in FdG’s room was the fireplace. A brick fireplace that FdG personally requested when she made her room in the dorm. Each brick picked and placed by herself. And hanging above it was a painted picture of her sister ships: SMS Kaiser, SMS Kaiserin, SMS König Albert, SMS Prinzregent Luitpol, and herself, before their ‘retirement’.
“Prinz Eugen, my dear child.” Eugen feels a chill down her back as she turns to the fireplace and sees FdG sitting in a rocker, in front of the fireplace, brushing her hair. The Iron Matriarch smiles at her. “Please my dear child, you must be cold. Come! The fire is nice and toasted.” Eugen bits her lower lips as she approaches. “Come my dear child.” FdG pats her lap. The heavy cruiser silently obeys and sits in her lap. She was like a child in their mother’s lap. FdG smiles, pulling her into a small hug. Eugen was trapped within the Matriarch's grasp. No escape now. “Prinz Eugen, my dear child, you do not need to worry. I do not ask you here to punish you.”
Eugen lets out a sigh of relief. “Then why ask for me?”
“I want to tell you a story.” FdG begins to rock the chair as she looks up at the painting of her sisters. “You know about my schwester, Kaiser?”
“Ja, the old leader of the Iron Blood during the first global war before Bismarck.” Eugen nods. “A strong, tactical genius. Her leadership was second to done.”
Ja.” FdG smiles “Even during those trying times, Kaiser was like a mother to us… a strict one but loved us. She would teach us many things during our small time together like music and history. She loved music, always played Symphony No.9 whenever she could. Either by playing it on the violin, horn, or whatever she musters at the time. Back then, I always teased her about her musical taste. I gave her a hard time back then.” Eugen felt the PR ship’s hand on her head. “I was a bit like you back then.”
Eugen raised an eyebrow. “You? The Iron Matriarch was like me? I doubt that.” Must be a joke.
“Oh dear Eugen, I am not joking.” FdG giggled. “I always gave my sisters a hard time. I would tease them, especially Kaiser about her chest size. Always call her a Waschbrett or Kaiser Waschbrett. Every time I called her that, steam would come out of her like a steam whistle.”
The heavy cruiser stifles a laugh as she looks up at the painting of the sisters. They were all lovely ladies, but FdG had a pretty big size bust compared to the rest and Kaiser had a 180-degree plane chest, the smallest out of the bunch.
“So many flat nicknames and so many chases… Kaiser, meine schwester.” FdG continues with tears forming in her eyes. “Even though my teasing and being a hardass, Kaiser loved me. The countless times I complained to her about the littlest things, she always listened with care. When we were about to be ‘retired’, the biggest lie in my life, it was… unpleasant.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued to recall that event. “My sisters accepted fate, but I could not. For days leading up to it, I cried and rocked in bed, skipping meals and just… being miserable. I started to blame myself and my sister for our fate. Only when Kaiser sat me down and said: ‘Friedrich, please, don’t cry. It is not our fault or anyone for the fate we have been given. We have to accept death at some point… and also meine schwester, I am sorry for the many scolding I gave you and forgive you for the many Waschbrett jokes.’ I asked her why forgive me for the names. She said that she does not want to die regretting not forgiving someone who wrongs them. That night showed me that it is better to forgive and apologize to those close to you for the bad you caused them. Kaiser always remarks to Kaiserin about my tormenting name-calling and jokes but forgives me for them to keep our sisterly bond. What I am alluding to Eugen… fix your wrongs with Hipper. I don’t want you to regret not apologizing to her before one of you is gone.”
Eugen silently nods as they both rock. Eugen leaned in closer to FdG, holding her as she had tears now in her eyes. “Friedrich… is it too late to apologize to her?” she asked her. “To apologize to Hipper?”
“Nothing is too late, child,” FdG assured her. “But a simple apology won’t be enough to mend your relationship with her. You must do something that shows you truly mean it.”
“Yeah… I will think about it.” Eugen sniffles as she cuddles more into FdG’s lap.
The Iron Matriarch smiles as she holds. “Take as much time as you need, my child. Take as much time as you need.”
--Late Evening--
Eugen sat on her bed, thinking about how to mend her relationship with her sister. First, she cleaned her room, removing all the empty tankards and pint glasses, empty alcohol bottles, and trash. She washed her dirty clothes and neatly folded them. She replaced the sheets and pillows, everything was organized, but the thought of how to apologize to Hipper.
“How will I do it?” She asked herself as she lays in bed. “How will I?” She scratched her head. “Argh.” She tossed and turned, restless. “How will I-” She stops and looks towards Hipper’s desk, seeing the destroyer B-25 bomber plane model. “She did say she Livestream with Mikasa…”
--The Next Day--
--Command HQ--
--Mikasa’s Model/Streaming Room--
--Before Noon--
“Ahhh…” Mikasa groans as she sets up for her model Livestream. “What am I going to do? Hipper painting the B-25 bomber plane was the main thing for this week's stream. What am I going to do to replace this?”
As she said that, she hears a knock at the door. Mikasa’s Model room was divided into two rooms: the display room with all the model warships and warplanes, and the streaming/construction room, where the model is made and painted and streamed to the internet. Opening the door to the streaming room, she is greeted with Prinz Eugen.
“Hallo, Mikasa.” Eugen smiles as Mikasa returns the greeting.
“Hello, Eugen, what brings you to my model studio?”
Eugen sighs. “Well…”
--Royal Navy Dorm--
Hipper sits at the desk as she plays on a simulation game, controlling and piloting a B-25 bomber. After moving out of her room, Grenville and Glowworm gladly accepted her into their room. Even though they were… hyperactive; Hipper respected them and cared for them as the two kindly looked up to her.
“Hey Hipper,” Glowworm hums as she forcibly tosses herself onto the cruiser’s lap. “Whatcha doing?”
“Ompoh!!” Hipper cough, the air force out of her lungs as Glowworm hits… like a warship. This abruptly caused Hipper to steer the bomber into the ground, ending the simulation.
“Argh,” Hipper sighs as she pats the destroyer on the head. “A warning next time, Glowworm. I swear your head is able to go through a ship’s hull.”
Glowworm giggles. “Sorry, Hipper.”
“It’s fine.” Hipper restarts the game. “I can’t get that mad at you.”
“Ahhhh~” Glowworm smiles as she watches her play.
“HIPPER!!” The cruiser and the destroyer jump, the bomber crashing again, as the door flies open with Grenville, Bataan, and I-13 running in.
“WHAT?!” Hipper yelled, quite annoyed with these interruptions.
“Turn on the stream!” Bataan exclaims. “Turn on the stream!”
Turning off her game, Hipper brings up the stream.
“Hello my fellow model builders!” Mikasa said with a smile in the studio. “We got a special stream for you tonight!”
“Probably going to be building a new ship today.” Hipper thought since she had to pull the B-25 painting for a later date.
“As you know, today was supposed to be Hipper painting her B-25 Mitchell Bomber model plane; however…”
“Let me.”
Hipper’s heart dropped to her toes as the camera shifted to Prinz Eugen, her sister, in the studio.
“HUHHHHHHH!!?!?!?!?!!?!?” Hipper screamed.
--Mikasa Model/Stream Room--
This… was a bit nerve-wracking. That was the thought running through Eugen’s head. Seeing the chat scroll-like torpedoes when she came on air and Mikasa sitting next to her, helping her… it was overwhelming.
“Hallo, everyone.” Eugen waved at the camera. “I am Prinz Eugen. And the younger sister of Hipper.” She saw the chat explode with excitement, some saying she was a beautiful and stunning and what not.
“Yes, we have a special stream for you guys today,” Mikasa says, trying to continue the stream. “Eugen, would you like to say what we will be doing?”
“Ja.” Eugen pulls out the broken B-25 bomber model plane. The chat blew up again and glancing at the scrolling text… some unsavory comments were exchanged.
“Alright alright, chat.” Mikasa used her scolding mother's voice. “Do not say those words on my stream. We are better than this.” That calms down the crowd. “Eugen, could you explain what happened?”
“Ja.” Eugen sighs. “I was a bit… drunk and accidentally knocked on my meine schwester’s desk in our shared room and… this was fallen over and broke. This… broke my sister’s patience with me and some she… left me.” She sighs. “Honestly, I feel bad that I did this to her. Hipper. Through her huhs and puffs, she is a sweet and loving sister. She was there for me when I am drunk, clean my room, get me into meetings and exercises. She is a great sister and I just…” Eugen looks directly at the camera. “Hipper, meine schwester, if you are watching this… I am sorry for everything. From the teasing to acting carelessly. I am sorry, and I hope I can fix your bomber here…” Eugen chokes up.
Mikasa gives the Iron Blood heavy cruiser a small hug. “I am sure your sister is watching.”
“Dankeschön.” Eugen recollects herself. “Now, how do we fix this?”
“Well…”
---
Hipper stares at the screen, red as a tomato, as she did not know what to do. Embarrassed that her sister, Prinz Eugen, talked about her private life or that she publicly apologized on a live stream.
“God meine schwester.” Hipper said with both anger and tears. She jumps off her seat and stomps off towards the studio.
--Several hours later--
“And done!” Mikasa cheers as they finish repairing the B-25 model. Working together, Eugen and Mikasa were able to fix the model bomber plane, using some greenstuff, plastic glue, and other modeling tips. What was once a broken plastic pieces became a complete B-25 Mitchell Bomber 1/32 model!
“Thank you, Mikasa for helping,” Eugen tells the old dreadnought.
“It is nothing.” Mikasa smiles. “Just happy to see this aeroplane model back in one piece.”
“Wonder if Hipper watched the stream?” Eugen wonders. Mikasa glances at the door entrance and points to the studio door. Eugen turns and sees Admiral Hipper, standing there with arms crossed and steaming out of her ears.
“SERIOUSLY EUGEN!?” Hipper screamed. “You seriously had to apologize to me on a live stream for everyone to see!?” Eugen runs up to her and gives her a hug.
“We will be returning shortly.” Mikasa went on break, stopping the capture, allowing the two sisters to have some privacy.
“What are you-” Hipper steamed, but Eugen smiles.
“I am sorry meine schwester. I am so sorry.” Eugen tells her, tears in her eyes. “I am sorry for the teasing and joking and using you as a calendar. I am sorry. I don’t our relationship to be sour and-”
“Eugen.” Hipper stops her, a bit teary eye herself. “Are you going to change your drinking habits, your cleaning habits, and everything else?”
“I will try,” Eugen tells her.
Hipper sighs. “Close enough.” She embraced her. “I forgive you and love you.”
“Thank you, meine schwester.” Eugen hugs her sister hard.
“You better change your habits or else,” Hipper says before they enter the studio again with Mikasa.
“I will try.” Eugen winks, causing her to roll her eyes, but smirk. “Mikasa, start the stream! Time to paint this baby!”
Outside the model room, FdG, Tirpitz, and Wesser watch as the two sisters finally made amends.
“At least they got back together again.” Wesser smiles as Tirpitz pulls her hat off.
“Ja. Everything is back to normal.” The battleship smiles.
FdG laughs. “A lovely scene.”
“YOU ARE DATING WALES AGAIN!!?!!” They all jump as they see Hipper yell at Eugen. “THIS IS YOUR FOURTH TIME!??!”
They all sigh. Wesser and Tirpitz shaking their heads and FdG politely giggling. “Eugen… habit die hard huh?”
--End--
submitted by FXFY18 to AzureLane [link] [comments]

Play Less, Climb More. Warning: Dense read, only for Tryhards

Preface: I'm a 4'th year medical student with a passion for self-improvement and optimization. This includes my IRL skills as well as my gaming. How to improve faster, how to be more efficient with my time, how to reach new heights, feel and play better; these are the things that interest me and I try to find ways to do it through science. Some of you may have seen my previous posts on Meditation and Flow. You might have also noticed that I post on multiple competitive gaming subreddits. I do this because these are games I personally enjoy, have coached and/or have competed in and also because these tips and tricks are not title dependent. Everyone can benefit and even apply it for things IRL. I want to keep learning so please hit me with your own discoveries, tips and tricks. I'm genuinely pleasantly surprised with the responses and the chance to meet like minded individuals! This post is particularly dense and took a lot of time to research. I'll try to make it as concise as I can.
Practice makes perfect! You can do anything just practice, practice, practice!
We've all heard this but I'm here to add complexity to the statement in the hopes that it actually makes your climb much easier. Spending more time playing does not mean you are making a good use of it. Research shows a chess grandmaster has anywhere between 1,000 to 14,000 hours dedicated to his game. Let's put this in perspective: 1,000 hrs = 41 days; 14,000 hrs = 1 year 218 days.
You could say some people are just born geniuses but research also shows that the top 1% actually practices LESS than their peers.
Also, for those of slightly advanced age (like myself at 28) frustrated with 13 year old's styling on us, this paper might help you feel better.

The Science of Accelerated Learning

A little biology (for nerds like me)
http://www.ccnss.org/ccn_2011/materials/pdf/bhalla/nrn2963.pdf
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnhum.2018.00400/full#h3
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2019.02396/full
Components
I will only address purposeful practice here. Mind and Body are crucial. This includes things like mindset, motivation, exercise, nutrition, etc. There is a reason why Esport teams invest in physical trainers, nutritionists and psychologists. I will leave this for other posts.
TL;DR
Have clear and measurable goals. Break down the game to it's most important components. Find your OPT. Structure your practice. Be a one trick pony. Observe a master. Use Imagery. Incorporate variability and contextual interference. Always make it slightly more difficult. Practice in a realistic setting. Add risk. Use mornings and evenings. Intensity followed by rest for maximal learning. Repeat at increasing intervals. Measure and monitor your progress. Get feedback.

Purposeful Practice

  1. Structure
2. Timing
3. Feedback

I believe this to be a pretty good summary of most Purposeful Practice techniques. As stated I will make a post on Mind and Body to completely close out the Accelerated Learning topic. Please let me know what you thought and honestly congratulations if you actually read the whole thing. It shows you're an actual Tryhard and I'm sure this will help you become OP.
submitted by MetaDoc_OP to CompetitiveApex [link] [comments]

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