First time growing active mushrooms, decided to take on Jack Frost.
First flush was 413g wet!
Information before y’all ask questions:

• Grew in a shoebox that was kept in a large tub with other shoeboxes. The large tub had holes added covered in micropore tape and the walls were heavily misted once I added the shoeboxes into it.
  
• I went straight to “fruiting conditions”and did no casing layer. For me, fruiting conditions was just holes in the large tub with micropore for air, heavily misting the sides and top of tub for moisture.
  
• did G2S May 14th
  

I’m on day 4 of Tret and it’s making my rosacea more red. Particularly on the bottoms of my cheeks. It’s also causing peeling, redness and irritation on a couple small parts AND I’m getting some random zits(that may just be due to my period so might not be the tret). I reached out to my derm about the side effects I haven’t heard back, but after doing some research I see those side effects are fairly “normal”.
Has anyone had good luck with rosacea after using tret? That was my main reason for starting it. I’ve had rosacea on my cheeks my whole life and I’d love to not turn tomato when I work out. Especially since I’m a CPT! 😅🍅

Is this an awful, okay, or good deal?

Assassin’s Creed:
At one time, there were rumours abound that the upcoming Assassin’s Creed: Mirage would lead directly to (or be packaged with) a full-blown ground-up remake of the original game. It’s easy to see how this idea gained traction – Mirage has been sold to us from the start as something of a back-to-basics reset for the series that harkens back to the original game’s city-based gameplay and is set in the same “global region”.
So, it might seem like a no-brainer. The assets made to recreate 9th century Baghdad could surely be repurposed into a facsimile of 12th century Damascus. It makes sense, if you don’t get hung up on the fact that the two places are roughly as far apart in space and time as modern-day Paris and, er, Cromwellian Liverpool. In any case, Ubisoft staffers seemed keen to pour cold water on that prospect last year. Perhaps the project was shelved. Or, perhaps, Assassin’s Creed: Mirage is enough of a remake in itself that a separate, more explicit project is considered unnecessary.
The thing about video game remakes, right, is that they’re great for onboarding newcomers, but they’re not necessarily that interesting for veteran fans. Take the recent ground-up PS5 remake of The Last of Us, for example. It offered a fresh and modern interpretation of the original story and was well-placed to induct new audiences – some from the TV show, some who were simply too young to have gotten into it ten years ago – into the fandom of the world’s most discussed-to-death 7/10.
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The room had already been quiet, but with Aedan’s words still hanging over the group, we might as well have been carved from stone. Alongside me, I saw Mason shrink back ever so slightly, his face bone-white.
Recluse nodded, though, still watching Aedan. “Let’s hear it,” he said, his voice low.
Aedan’s shoulders rose as he took a deep breath. His hands clasped tight around each other, clinging for stability.
And then he sat up straighter, locking eyes with Recluse.
“There’s a war brewing,” he said, and shook his head. “No. It’s not brewing. There’s a war going on right now.”
“The Rekindler,” Recluse said. “Oh, I’ve been watching. The Legion’s got herself a handful, looks like.”
“It’s because of me,” Aedan said, more softly. His shoulders slumped. “I…Madis has been hunting me for a few centuries now. I thought I could stay ahead of him. And…I could, but..”
He didn’t turn and look, as such, but I saw him shift the faintest degree toward me. “I made some mistakes,” he said. “I screwed up, and…it slowed me down. It got Madis even more interested.”
“Seems like, yep,” Recluse said, still as nonchalant as he’d been since we stepped into his house.
“We want to bring this to a stop,” Aedan said, locking eyes with the man again. “I do not want to get caught up in the middle of some European fuckwit’s war. I just want them to leave me the fuck alone.” The corners of his lips twitched. “I get the feeling you understand that much.”
“Might have a clue,” Recluse said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, though, Wanderer, but I’ve yet to see how this is my problem.”
“Right,” Aedan mumbled. He shook his head, ruffling his hair with one hand. I saw him take another deep breath. “We want him gone. And the sooner he’s out of here, the sooner everyone can stop running around like chickens with their heads cut off, killing each other. It’s good for everyone. You included.”
“That’s all the way over on the east coast,” Recluse said, holding up a hand as if pushing back on an invisible wall. “It’s still nice and quiet over here.” His eyebrow quirked. “That Echo lout might be a giant pain in my ass, but they run a tight ship.”
“Y-Yeah, but-”
“Besides,” Recluse said. He sprawled back against his couch, spreading his arms against the soft fabric. The blue and green flickers of magic from out the window cast odd shadows across his face, making me feel even uneasier than I already did. “Isn’t like I can do much, eh? I’m closer to you than the Legion bitch.” His eyebrow twitched. “It’s just me ‘round these parts, I’m afraid. No army to speak of. Not sure exactly what you’re asking of me.”
“We don’t need you to fight,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop myself. The affront building deep inside Recluse’s eyes had sent a shiver down my spine, screaming for me to get in front of this train before it went off the rails. “We’re already imposing enough on your night, sir. We wouldn’t come and ask a stranger to fight our battles for us.”
Recluse’s gaze drifted over to me. I froze. My skin crawled as he gave me a long, hard look, searching me from head to toe.
He nodded, just a little. “Well, at least you know that much,” he said, giving an almighty sniff. “Kids these days expect too much. Always asking the impossible, pounding on my door with their hands out.”
“He’s a pain in my butt,” Aedan said. A laugh rippled beneath the words. “But…this crew has been pretty good. Not nearly as bad as the usual bunch.” When Recluse turned back to him, he shook his head, sitting forward to brace his elbows against his knees. “Jon is right. We don’t need your help that directly. I’m not quite that forward.” His chin lifted. “We need information, and it’s looking like only you have what we need.”
“If you’re okay with helping us, we just have a few questions.” I blinked. It was Amber speaking, now, even if her arms and legs were stiff, one foot bouncing against the carpet. Her hazel eyes lingered on Recluse, unblinking. “That’s all. We can get right out of your hair. No more trouble.”
“And then, hopefully, we can get Madis out of town,” I said. “No trouble for a good long while.”
Recluse looked over, slow and deliberate. He fixed that same assessing look on Amber—but this time, his lips curled into a scowl. “Nothing else from you,” he said.
Amber stiffened, paling. “I-”
“You’ve got the same blood on you as the rest,” Recluse said. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you. This is a civilized household.”
I reached out, putting a hand on Amber’s knee. Already, I could see her paling, glancing my way. She shut her mouth, though, wrapping an arm around her midsection.
Recluse sighed, turning back to Aedan. “Say your piece,” he said. “I’m tired. Shit or get off the pot, son.”
Inwardly, my thoughts mused about Recluse calling him ‘son’ when both of them were a thousand years old. Or more. Sure, he looked like a man in his 40s or 50s, and Aedan looked like he couldn’t be more than a year or two over 20, but how much did that really matter here?
Aedan was squirming, though, readying himself, so I turned myself back to him, putting the treacherous little whispers from my mind.
“It’s a bit complicated,” Aedan said at last. “But the short version is that Madis is hiding. He’s got himself holed up somewhere in his territory, and we need to figure out where.” He spread his hands, gesturing into the open air. “We have a lead on a demi who fought with him once before. Successfully, we hope. We’re trying to track him down, but the trail’s gone cold.”
“Again, don’t see how I can help with that,” Recluse said. His eyebrow quirked. “I make it a matter of pride to not associate with the stained masses, you know. Did you think ‘Recluse’ was just for show?”
“I know,” Aedan said. “I…I know. But…” He licked his lips, shifting uncomfortably. “We have one last lead on the bastard. It seems whatever their magic is, it’s tied to the ley lines somehow. The old ones, that is.” His gaze dropped to the carpet, his eyes going misty. “A couple of finders spotted their fight, and the hallmarks they talked about are pretty clear. It all bubbled up about-”
“Three years ago.”
Aedan stopped. All around the room, eyes rose.
Recluse sat, no longer looking so casual. His knees were spread, hands wrapped around each other in his lap. His gaze was downcast.
“So you know of it,” Aedan said slowly.
For a long while, the room was quiet. There was no sound, even when we should’ve at least heard the cars from outside. It was like we’d been scooped out of the world, wrapped up tight in our own little cocoon.
I just counted the seconds, waiting. Aedan didn’t seem to want to push the point, which meant I damn sure wasn’t going to do it either. My heart beat in my chest. We’d found something—now, I was sure of it. Recluse knew something.
Only now I wasn’t so sure if it was the prize we’d been hoping for.
Finally, when the silence was starting to become intolerable, Recluse groaned. He braced hands on his knees, standing slowly. And then he trudged to the side, to stand before one blackened window, the streams of magic lighting the dark planes of his face.
“I don’t bring folks here much,” he said, staring out into the nothingness outside. “I like my peace and quiet, yes, but it’s more than that. There aren’t many who understand what I am. What this place is.”
“This place?” Aedan said. His brows pulled together. “You mean-”
“This house,” Recluse said. He reached out again, laying a hand against an armchair. His fingers curled against the fabric, oddly protective. Possessive. “This is my home. The place in the world that’s mine. But it’s more than that. It’s the heart of me, all the hopes and dreams I had, wrapped up in one tidy package.”
A realization shot through me like lightning. “This place is your relic,” I whispered. “The whole house. Isn’t it?”
Recluse chuckled. His fingers tightened against the chair.
The floor shook beneath my feet. I jumped, stifling a yelp. A tiny cry from alongside me said that Mason hadn’t been so fast.
And around me, I watched the house start to shift. The walls grated against each other, expanding and contracting as the room changed shape. A staircase appeared from behind a corner, then vanished as a hallway swallowed it whole. A kitchen peeked out from behind a column, tantalizingly warm and welcoming. The paint darkened, its luster fading to smooth, time-worn stone and timber.
As quickly as it started, it stopped. The house went still. The walls drifted back to their usual places, their suburban normalcy returning in sheets of white drywall.
“Well spotted,” Recluse said, glancing my way. He gave a quick, curt nod, but his eyes turned back outward. “When the end began, I gave this homestead everything I had. Everything I could muster up, I poured into these four walls.” His other hand pressed against the drywall, almost tenderly. “A place where my kin could be safe, no matter what came next. A place we could live out our lives, cradled in the magic we loved so dearly.”
He shook his head, ducking his chin low. His hand loosened against the wall. “Time rolled on,” he said, voice quiet. “It worked, but not how I planned.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Aedan said. I glanced back to him, and froze. His foot was tapping rapid-fire against the floor, his eyes impatient. Oh, no. “But I don’t see how-”
“Shut the hell up and let a man talk,” Recluse said, grinning down at him. “You barged into my house before the sun even had a chance to rise, Wanderer. Take what you get.”
Aedan flushed, but shut up, hunching lower in his seat.
“This was our farm,” Recluse said. He twisted, gesturing out the halfway-normal window toward the orchard outside. “And orchards have roots. When I worked my spell, I did it a little too well. Bound it a little too snugly—to me, but also to the rivers those roots drew from.”
“The ley lines,” I whispered.
“Indeed,” Recluse said. He sucked in a breath, his shoulders rising as he bobbed in place. “And that’s why your Legion bitch sent you here. That’s the connection you’re hunting after so dearly.”
“I don’t understand,” Aedan said. “I- The ley lines are-”
“Dry,” Recluse said. “Yep. Dead as a bone. But this house?” He rapped a knuckle against the wall. “It remembers. The magic is gone, but the currents remain. And it pulls us onward like a leaf on the river’s surface, riding the ghost of what was.”
What? I eased myself to my feet. “Jon,” I heard Amber hiss alongside me, but…well, you couldn’t just dangle something like that in front of me and not expect me to want a closer look.
Slowly, a good bit more fearful than before, I approached one of the darkened windows. The glimmers of magic were more pointed when I stood near it, like a nebula of blue beyond the glass. “Where are we?” I whispered?
“Right now?” Recluse said with a snort. “Dunno. Somewhere in Asia.”
“What?” I heard Cailyn squeak. I was right there with her. That had not been the answer I’d intended or expected. I’d figured I’d get a some other mystery dimension or deep in the bottomless well of dry magic or something like that. Not that.
But when I stood there, staring out into the not-black…I shivered, drawing away. It wasn’t just a void. There was something there, an afterimage. A mountain, and green fields, and-
“Nope,” I gasped, hurling myself away from the window. “What the hell is that?”
Recluse’s booming laugh echoed through the room. “Not to your fancy, boy?”
“What the hell is this house?” I managed. Amber’s hands closed around my arm, pulling me back to the couch. I let her, dropping to the safely-comfortable cushion.
Recluse just kept chuckling, shaking his head. “Never gets old,” he chortled. “Told you, didn’t I? We’re ridin’ the old ley lines.”
“I didn’t think you meant it literally,” I said, wiping my palms against my jeans. For some reason, they’d gotten all sweaty.
“It’s just me and the magic, out here,” Recluse said. He glanced over his shoulder to Aedan, and the amusement slowly drained from his face, leaving him somber. “So I thought at first, back when this magic was new.”
The mood in the room shifted. I sat back, trying not to let my brewing fear show on my face.
Aedan looked a bit grey about the edges, but he sat motionless, staring at his opposite. “So you know something,” he said.
Recluse sat there for a long moment, as though letting the words ferment around us. Then he nodded, long and slow—and he looked over, staring out through the void-black window.
“It didn’t take long for me to realize I wasn’t alone.”