It’s finally happened. I’ve finally integrated myself with so much Junkrat that I’ve dreamt I was him.
Hoggie and I were walking through a big park, both of us out in our street clothes, when I spot two guys across the way. One of them looked like a bootleg Jack Morrison, and the other guy was dressed in all black and looked like he was made of birch bark. I must have known this fella, because I immediately spider-monkeyed halfway up the tree he was standing under and shouted something like “I got both me arms on me this time, bitch!”
So Goth Groot dude just kinda glares up at me, like he’s struggling to keep himself from punching me square in the face because he wants to keep things civil. I apparently don’t want to keep things civil, so I start chucking childish insult after childish insult his way. I got to “pine cone dick” before he finally gave in and jumped me.
So we have a good old fashioned fist fight, tumbling around on the ground and beating each other bloody. But it turns out the lot of us need to be somewhere, so Discount 76 takes some taser thing to my neck and knocks me out of it for a while. Hog hoists me over his shoulder like a noodly sack of potatoes and we all head off to what looks like a train station.
So Hog flops me down on a bench and sits next to my sprawled out, half-conscious body. The other two sit down on a bench across from us and Hog and them have a casual conversation as we wait for the train. Then I guess I started to have a dirty dream or whatever, because I start mumbling pillow talk to Roadhog. Hog tries to cover it up that I’m just worn out or something, but I just keep getting dirtier and dirtier with it until his face is just bright red with embarrassment and he can’t look the other two in the eye.
Work Smarter, Not Harder: study tips psychology taught me
study in shorter intervals and take breaks (ie, 40 minutes studying and 20 minutes break)
during your break don’t watch tv or surf the internet. get outside if you can and go for a walk. or at least listen to some instrumental music and walk around your hall. or meditate or do some art. anything that doesn’t require super directed attention. this allows your attention to be replenished. it’s like a muscle and you gotta give it time to rest. tv doesn’t allow for that.
relate the information to yourself and your life. creating visual images will improve your memory.
when studying, take notes by hand and put them in your own words. generating material yourself will encode the material better in your brain, and you’ll remember it better
don’t just reread, rehearse! quiz yourself on the materials. if you use a visual image “memory palace” technique, walk yourself through it. you’re likely to remember information you’ve tested yourself on better.
organizing information into groups that make sense create more connections in your brain and allow you to remember things better. the more meaningful connections you make, the better.
make sure the last thing you do before bed is study. no phone, no netflix. your brain will process what you’ve just done while you sleep and this improve recall.
Angels walk among us. With crooked halos and shattered wings, they walk among us and try to remember what it felt like to be holy. Stretching out their arms and reminding themselves of what it felt like to soar.
Gods walk among us. Trapped inside too small bodies with nothing but the memories of when they were everything, and dream of the worlds and empires they helped forge. Their hands had once built galaxies, but now seemed so small.
Aliens walk among us. From far away worlds and twinkling stars, they carry on and wonder how they had gotten so far from home. One day they know they’ll traverse this galaxy once again, but until then they must make do with Earth.
Fae walk among us. Who try to remember their people, their customs, their dances, in a world that is convinced that they are children’s tales, and no more. Desperately trying to become themselves again, wondering if it was all simply a prank gone wrong, or something worse.
Forests walk among us. Those who remember their trees, their plants, the animals they kept safe under their canopy. Now they can only hope their small friends stay safe, until they can take care of them all again.
Animals walk among us. Wondering why they were stuck on two legs with none of their fur or feathers, scales or shells. Questioning why their voices suddenly are so wrong, so different from the cries they used to make. Surrounding themselves with whatever they can that reminds them of their home.
Ghosts walk among us. Clothed in flowing white and shadowy blues, wandering through areas that used to be solely theirs. They can no longer phase or float, but they make do. They have to.
Dragons walk among us. On feet without the claws they remember, and with heads held high despite the missing horns and fangs. They clamber forwards, rebuilding their hoard with every step of the way.
Dolls walk among us. Those with faded felt and chipped ceramics alike wondering why they were suddenly flesh. Looking over themselves and realizing their bodies were suddenly softer then they ever were, more sturdy then they ever were.
Galaxies walk among us. Made of star stuff and moonshine, infinitely growing forces trapped in too small bodies. Remembering what it felt like to span light years and wondering who had managed to trap supernovas into flesh and blood.
Monsters walk among us. In every shape and size; they walk; slither; crawl; and remember the days they were feared, and wonder if they really want that back. If they would want it back after finally being treated as a living creature with as much right to exist as anyone else.
Betrayers walk among us. With guilt-ridden hearts and regretful eyes. Who reassure themselves that it was the right thing to do, not quite sure if they believe themselves.
Saviors walk among us. With a shine in their eyes and smiles on their lips, reassuring all they come across that one day the sun will shine and all with be right once again.
Rebels walk among us. Causes long ago forgotten, but with fires still raging in their hearts. Challenging anything and everything. Unrest and revolutions follow them wherever they tread. Chaos and freedom, mixed together.
Survivors walk among us. Soldiers with nothing left to fear, who have instincts as their guide and luck on their side. Walking forward unafraid, because they’ve done this all before.
Immortals walk among us. Souls laden with sorrow, heartbreak slipping through their eyes. They know by now not to get close, but do so anyways because its the only thing that makes them feel anymore.
Soldiers walk among us. Hands itching for weapons they no longer have, tense with instincts they no longer need. Wondering why their body is so unmarred and unbroken. They had always done their best, but now they no longer knew if that was good enough. If it ever was good enough.
Children walk among us. Lost and afraid, they march forward, with the weights of a thousand impossibilities on their shoulders. These children are forgotten, and they would prefer to stay that way.
Cursed-folk walk among us. With cautious eyes and doubtful tones, who know that the world is against them now more than ever. Everything comes with a price, and they wonder if their price was truly worth it.
Mages walk among us. Hands of their magical tools of choice, ready to pull them out if necessary to defend or attack. Scared because this was the land their ancestors were killed in. Courageous because they continue forwards anyways.
Travelers walk among us. Those who took a wrong turn and found themselves in a world that isn’t theirs, hoping to one day find the way back. Strength rings through them, for they know they cannot- will not -stop until they reach their home.
Chosen Ones walk among us. Remembering what it felt like to be The One, The Savior, The Last Hope of their worlds- and wondering why that responsibility was ever thrust on them in the first place. Wondering why they had been abandoned back in their old world after fighting so hard for the one they had made their home.
Spirits walk among us. Spirits who see others like them in the corner of their eyes. Spirits who meet up in quiet secret places and remember, together, what it felt like to be themselves. Reassuring each other that one day they will all go Home.
Unicorns walk among us. Even with their horns no longer there, there is no doubt magic runs through them. They are blessed creatures, and they know it. Stars and sunlight glisten in their eyes, and every step plants flowers.
Demons walk among us. Still feeling the darkness in their blood, and the calls of others like them. Hell fire and brimstone smells dance on the breeze, luring them away. Luring them back home.
Dire Wolves walk among us. Even without their pack, they are fierce. Every step a calculation, every move planned.The hunt is on, and it looks like you are the prey. Get ready to run.
Dinosaurs walk among us. Long gone though they are, the continue forward. With pasts surrounded by mystery and unknowing. They are a varied folk, from carnivores to herbivores and everything in between. Large and small alike they fight on.
Winged Ones walk among us. Backs aching from wings they don’t have- limbs they haven’t had in a long time. The sky calls to them, begging them to come home, but they cannot reply. Stuck on the ground, staring hopefully up at the sky- one day they might go home, but not yet, not today.
Glitches walk among us. Scratches on the disk of reality, blips in the world. Tilt your head, look at them from a wrong angle- they might just be lens flares, might just be tricks of the imagination. The world warps around a being that is not there, that shouldn’t be there.
Hellhounds walk among us. Hellfire sprouts from their paths, infernos blaze just under their skin. Embers burn their paws, soot stains their fur. Wildness stirs in their hearts, urges them forward. Feral creatures, born from fire and darkness.
Vampires walk among us. Fangs stained red with blood that is not theirs. Pale as untouched snow, with hearts as dark as the night they rule. Voids twist around them, cloaking them in their shadows. Look out for too sharp grins at midnight, watch your steps.
Elements walk among us. Raging winds, blazing flames, crushing earth, and surging waters rush together. Combining to make impossible possibilities, incredible worlds, exploding worlds. Elements that made up entire worlds now spinned into bones.
The Undead walk among us. Shuffling and stuttering, wondering if this makes them undead undead. Flesh now whole and bones unbroken, feeling their heartbeat course through their veins once again, feeling the air filling their lungs once again.
Werefolk walk among us. Bodies no longer shifting as they once did, permanently stuck on their two legs, for better or for worse. From all walks of life, they shifted into anything and everything. They do what they can to remind themselves of what if had felt like to themselves again.
Starseeds walk among us. Those that have lived only a few lives and those that have lived hundreds walking together. Taking the same steps they’ve taken who knows how many times before. Memories trickle back to them, small ones and big ones alike replaying in their minds. Doing their best to remember their mission and goals.
Mermaids walk among us. Although, maybe walk would be the wrong word. Figuring out how to walk on separate limbs that used to be one. Feeling most at home when submerged in water, sometimes forgetting their new bodies need oxygen. Strong arms and new legs propelling them through water, making them relearn a skill that they’d known since birth.
Death Omens walk among us. Afraid if their mere presence curses everyone around them. Keeping to themselves, just in case. Wondering how much of their past life carries on to their new life. Afraid that their mere touch could end lives, wondering if its their fault every time catastrophe hits.
Psychopomps walk among us. Remembering their jobs, remembering their duty. Even when they hated it, they remember what that must do. Both an impartial guide and a guardian protector. It was not their job to judge, simply to provide a safe passage from here to whatever lies beyond. Smiling in the face of death, knowing that they are not here for them.
Shadows walk among us. Twisting and shifting, not solid forms but far from intangible. They are everywhere and nowhere all at once, watching on to every act, recording passively that actions of others, while also defending those in need, actively stepping out to protect. They are the night and the stars, and yet also the shifting woods and deadly blades that flash in the shade. They are, and they aren’t.
Prisoners walk among us. Remembering shackles and chains holding them back, holding them down. Forced in cages and cells, forced to repent. But now- now they are free. They are free to walk and speak and run. Every part of their soul sings. Shackles now rusted off, chains now broken- they have no intentions of ever putting them back on.
Robots walk among us. Rusty joints and electricity running through them. Mechanical men, made to work with no need for sustenance. Inorganic beings with artificial intelligence, making themselves better, making themselves evolve. Their jobs are not yet done.
Mountains walk among us. Their strength and fortitude transformed into movable flesh and feeble bones. Eons of near unending life taken away and replaced with a life of hardly a century. Where once they were feared and respected, they are now hardly ever seen.
Winter Sprites walk among us. Ice on their fingers, frost in their hair. Snow falls over their trail, painting the frozen landscape a chilling white. A shiver trails up your spine when they pass, followed by a freezing breeze- winter spirits in their element can freeze the world over, if one could be bothered to do so.
Seers walk among us. They watch, wide eyed and humbled, at the creatures who walk around them. Wings and horns and twisted bits, wandering through crowded streets. Their oddities, invisible to most, show bright and clear to the perceptive eyes of those who watch.
(want me to add one? Leave a reply and I’ll add it to the original)
Could you list all of the tropes that you consider "feel good violence"?
Okay, “Feel Good Violence” is very simple as a concept.It’s violence that feels good, when you’re reading it, when you’re watching it on screen, because for the perpetrator violence can feel really damn good.However,that is violence when taken outside of context. It is violence without consequences. It is violence for the sake of violence. Violence that serves no purpose but to prove the character or person is tough.
Protagonist Sanctioned Bullying - Bullying in general is a fairly popular method to achieve “Feel Good
Violence” because bullying does feel good. The audience sympathizes with
the protagonist, so when the protagonist acts they cheer for it. Its
not presented as bullying by the narrative, but it is still bullying.
Usually it’s a rival or a character set up to “deserve it”, but sometimes not.
Making people afraid makes you feel tough. Many authors will fall prey to the sweet lure of bullying and not even know it because bullying is violence without fear of consequence. Most often, they’ve been the recipients rather than the perpetrators, and acting as the bully is a very different ballgame. It is an emotional and psychological high. You feel big, strong, safe, and untouchable. Powerful.
In their worst incarnations, most superheroes become bullies.
Bullying is all about control, protected status, and freedom from consequences. An entirely fictional world creates the opportunity for all these things, with the narrative itself siding with the bully. Bullying is Feel Good Violence writ large in real life. It’ll follow you into the fictional world just as easily. Power is a high you never forget.
This is very common trope for characters who also act as a means of self-insertion by the author. For them, it isn’t bullying. It’s an example of how awesome their character is and how tough they are.
Everything But Dead
- When the only morals applied are if someone died, the rest is sanctioned without comment. There are no narrative consequences for the character’s behavior, and everyone cheers them on. Anyone who calls them out is an acceptable target, usually evil, or the protagonist wins them over in the end because their actions are “justified”.
By Any Means Stupid - This is the “by any means necessary“ trope, where the violence really isn’t necessary and the author just wanted an excuse to paint the room red.
Unprovoked Violence Is Always the Solution - This is the one where the protagonist skips all the other steps and goes straight to preemptive violence against a total stranger, for no reason other than it makes them appear tough. Usually not framed by the narrative as bad, but it is. Oh, yes, it is. Worse there usually aren’t any consequences for the hero physically assaulting someone in a room full of witnesses because everyone knows they’re the hero, right?
Random Violence Before Strangers is A-Okay - The
protagonist disembowels a bully in front of their victim in order to
protect them and receives effusive thank yous. Nothing comes from this.
The bad guy is dead. We all feel good. All is right in the world.
Except… violence freaks people out.
Acceptable Targets - These are people designated by the writer as non-entities and targets for violence regardless of narrative context. A very slippery slope that is ever descending. But, you know, it feels good? Sure, so long as you’re not on the receiving end. This kind of dehumanization happens in real life too, just in case you were wondering.
Beating Up My Source - You have a character who collects information from an old standby, they threaten and beat up that standby regularly to show they’re tough. At what point does this seem like a terrible idea? Never! Hey, they’re a bad person so you feel good, right?
Waving My Gun Around - Trigger discipline is just the beginning of this problem.
A gun is not a toy. but you’ll find a vast array of narratives who use it that way in order to look tough.
Killing Your Way to the Top - You can’t really destroy organizations like this. Killing the people at the top will just lead to someone else taking their place. Whenever you create a power vacuum someone will fill it. You can’t destroy an organization by killing. It doesn’t work. But, it feels good!
Must Obviously Be Boy - Because female fighters are unicorns and the mooks have never laid eyes on a woman before. Usually part of a larger narrative issue with violence, but acts as a “get out of jail free” card.
Clear the Building - That time the character decided to knock everyone out to prove that they are tough. Weirder when it happens on stealth missions.
I Am Not Gaining Levels - When you’re reading a book and the character is fighting like it’s a video game. They fight everyone like they’re in an RPG chasing XP. Why? We don’t know, but it makes them feel good.
Let Me Shoot Him Twenty Times - We could call this spray and pray, but let’s pretend for a moment the magazine could run dry.
Magic Bullets - The bullets that go where you want, stop when you want, and don’t cause accidental casualties. You know, like the protagonist blind firing through a wall and hitting a four year old playing in the yard across the street.
Body Armor Always Prevents A Blow-through - Nope!
New to Training, Perfect Sparring - That time the main character took on their evil rival (school’s top/better trained student) in a sparring match and won, especially when it was their first day.
Sparring Just In General - The vast majority of Western media doesn’t understand the concept or purpose of sparring. Many authors seem to think its a UFC match where you just beat each other up and the first thing you do during training to “assess your capabilities”.
Queuing for Combat - This is an old Hollywood trick where the burden of a group fight is lifted as the stuntmen wait their turn to fight the protagonist. Particularly egregious in written action sequences where the author doesn’t grasp the concept of teamwork. It also warps the understanding of how many people its possible for a human to fight at once.
Terrible At Torture - Torture is a terrible way to gain information in general because it doesn’t lead to a confession so much as confirmation bias. The subject will tell you whatever you want to hear because they want the pain to stop. It’s even worse when done poorly, which it is 90% of the time. Usually, media uses it for shock value or to prove how tough a protagonist is. Torture is not putting a blowtorch to someone’s foot and hoping for the best. It’s far, far more complicated than that. Neither torturer nor subject come out of the experience whole. Besides, the unimaginative protagonists say, “screw you!” The clever ones lie.
What Is: Dress for Success - How we dress our characters is often necessary for crafting a sense of narrative realism. This comes in often as a reason for why its so difficult to take female action heroes seriously, but it happens to the guys too. Not a bad trope on its own, but often symptomatic of a larger narrative approach to violence that ends with “feel” and “good”.
Beautiful and Badass - This one is a very specific female fantasy, which is that you can meet all the cultural standards and definitions for beauty while being in direct defiance of them. These are the female characters who are never touched by the combat they engage in. They are always graceful, always elegant, always beautiful in motion and the narrative will pause to tell us this often. “She fights like she’s dancing.” For these characters, their supermodel-esque beauty is a natural extension of their being. They don’t work at it. Combat is incidental. It’s a set piece to tell you how awesome the character is. It generally amounts to nothing, serves no real narrative purpose, but by god the author is going to walk us through it in excruciating detail. Combat and character are separate, and consequences are for other people.
My Instincts Performed A Wheel Kick - Your instincts just don’t work that way.
There’s probably more, but that hits most of the major sins.
Keep in mind that many of these tropes are not issues by themselves. They often work when context and consequences are taken into account by their narrative/setting. Generally, this results in characters with no accountability for their behavior and exhibit no responsibility for their actions. The issue, of course, is that responsibility and accountability are what make well-written violence work. Violence often drives the narrative. It’s part and parcel to who the character is, and their decision making. It’s the difference between a character who presents themselves as tough or skilled and one who actually is.
The group I DM for, mostly levels 4 and 5, had been asking if they could do a quest that involved sailing. So I dusted off Stormwrack and settled of The Sable Drake. They had tracked the ship to the pirates hideout and were engaging in a sea battle offshore. The crew were all still alive but Captain Naki had all but crippled the ship and were preparing to board.
Cleric casts Wind Wall
Cleric: “That will keep them from shooting us but they can just walk through it.”
Ranger: “Yeah but the captain’s a wererat. If she gets on board she could bite us. I don’t want to get bit!”
Bard OOC: hey *DM* is the catapult still loaded?
DM: Yes, but the Sable Drake is too close to use it.
Bard OOC: Can I tie my rope to the rock.
DM: Yes? It takes 5 feet to wrap the rock. May I ask why?
Bard: I tie the rope and tell the crew member to prepare to fire. Hey, *Ranger* can I borrow your rope?“
Ranger: “Uh, sure.”
Bard: I tie her rope onto mine and say “Get ready.”
Captain Naki proceeds to board the ship after the party surrendered.
“So nice to have an easy capture. Just hand over the valuables and I’ll make your deaths quick.”
Bard: “Now *Ranger*!”
Ranger throws the rope at Naki and the bard casts Animate Rope on it to ranger her. Naki fails her save and is tangled.
The DM suddenly realizes what the rope is for.
Bard: “Fire the Catapult!”
The catapult is fired and Naki goes sailing towards the beach. The DM didn’t even bother to roll for fall damage.
“Good job. You’ve Tom and Jerry’d yet another boss fight.”
Entire table is losing their shit.
The party then proceeds to capture the Sable Drake and for themselves renamed it The Flying Goblin.
Ok, so, artist struggling with depression here. I just slept for like 2 days straight and I can barely hold a pencil right now and everything I draw looks like shit and nothing I make feels like it matters.
Most of us have been there. It’s painful.
Especially when you eat, breathe, -live- art, and you can’t create anything. There’s a pressure to always be creating, always drawing, always posting. But sometimes, you just can’t. Sometimes your heart just isn’t in it, or you don’t have the energy, or you’re distracted by things that happened in the day that upset you. And I know when I tell you “That’s okay” you may not believe me, because hell, I don’t always even believe myself.
But here’s something of a life hack I learned that I desperately need to practice more myself:
If you can’t create, consume.
Watch a movie. Read a webcomic. Catch up on your favorite cartoon. Do it for days. Do it for weeks. However long it takes. Indulge in the thing that makes you love drawing in the first place. Your inspiration is living in there somewhere, and immersing yourself in your interests when you’re down is self care.
Not productive enough? Need something that feels more worth while and less leisurely? Study. Google tutorials on drawing that anatomy you’re struggling with. Look up walk throughs on how to use watercolor in a way you haven’t tried. Watch youtube videos of other artists drawing or demonstrating techniques you don’t know and figure out how they do the thing. You’re a student and you’re studying, so it’s Mature and Productive and counts as Work, BUT it takes far fewer spoons than actually creating art if you just don’t have it in you.
Conclusion: you don’t always have to be creating content to be advancing as an artist.
Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.
Warning(s): Fluff & Angst
A/N: A scene is lowkey inspired by the perks of a wallflower in this chapter sksk enjoy you little cuties !! sorryforthewait
Richie pulled over, smirking as he watched Eddie’s confusion grow.
“You stopped here?”
“Yep, now get out.” Richie hummed, before climbing out of the truck doorway- grabbing his keys and standing to his feet.
Eddie was confused, his head tilted as he climbed out and looked at his surroundings. What stood before him was a tall abandoned carpark building surrounded in intertwining railings, the strands of thin grass below standing tall and knee length to Eddie.
“This is an abandoned building.”
“Well done, captain K.” Richie spoke with sarcasm, hands in his pockets, “This is my hideout.”
Eddie stepped forward next to Richie, glancing at the wired railings that stood before them both. “So, how do you get into the hideout?”
Richie hummed yet again, walking along the side of the metal, his fingers trailing against each curve. His eyes fixated on a small gap that he used to climb through when he was younger. “I’m presuming you’re not a climber, right Eds?”
“I am not climbing that thing, no way.” Eddie folded his arms, “There should just be an entrance-”
Context: My dad was running a game of dnd a while back. The party, he couldn’t remember all the classes or races, just that there was a 10 year old human cleric. Said party is walking through a crypt that was being used by a cult to summon a demon when…
DM: From inside the pentagram a billowing smoke emerges, killing all the nearby cultists and growing to a massive size…
Cleric ooc: I’m going to take my bottle of holy water and chuck it into the smoke!
(The cleric rolls a nat 20 and the entity in the smoke rolls a nat 1 to resist it.)
DM, bewildered by this turn of events: … Well then, the smoke dissapears and leaves nothing behind, as you just killed the demon lord that was going to be a recurring villian before it could even form!
(Everyone at the table bursts into laughter for so long that the session had to end there, all because a ten year old managed to kill an entire boss by himself.)
In class the other day the prof was walking us through a Taylor series problem on the board and he turned around and said “okay so what comes after 3?” (The answer was 4) and no one was answering and I said, kind of under my breath, “bigger 3” except the prof heard me and almost choked on his coffee
Everyone has their own methods, but I thought beginners would be interested in trying to use mine.
Five steps to begin your journey
Relax. Calm your breath, calm your heart, calm your thoughts. You don’t need to have a blank mind, you just need to have the same mental activity as if you were bored during a long car travel. You know when you start to see what you imagine in flashes? When you read a book and see the scene? Like that.
Now take a random image in your mind. Can you keep it in front of your eyes? How long does it stay? How well do you remember it? Once you feel like you can keep the image and play with it as if you were playing a VR game, you can go on.
I need you to visualize the easiest way for you to enter the astral plane. My favorite way is to imagine a door with many details and to implant my intention in it by imagining words/sigils etc being engraved in it. Doesn’t have to be specific, or to be an intention at all. Then, I open it and there is a world in front of me (see next step).
OR there are also other ways. I also like to take a music and use it to build my environment, or to imagine my palm being pressed against the bark of a tree/wall. I’ve heard people imagining walking through mirrors, jumping in a hole, and even using pop culture items like the Star Gate or a Tardis. It’s your mind, you do what you want with it.
Once you have the “world” in front of you, I want you to focus on your other senses. You don’t have to, you can use your eyes only, but you’ll have more troubles maintaining your concentration. Focus on whichever sense feels dominant other than your sight. For me, it’s touch, thus I focus on how my astral body feels. Is the weather warm? Is the ground grass or marble?
For other people, it can be hearing or scenting etc. Some might even have a dominant sense that is not sight! Usually, the sense that manifests the more in your dreams is your dominant one. Raise your awareness sense after sense, in the other that feels more natural.
Once you feel your new world, you can begin to explore it! You might want to visualize a barrier/ward and to draw sigils for protection and invisibility on your astral (and physical) body before you do, just to be sure.
I will cover how to build your own astral “house” (which can be used as a mental palace, a meditation area, a temple, a resort area etc) and what dangers you can encounter in there, how to protect yourself, and what you can do in a general way in parts 2 and 3.