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FIND THE BEST DEALS ON AR PARTS

2013.05.03 04:43 cobratac FIND THE BEST DEALS ON AR PARTS

Find the best deals on AR Parts. feel free to post the best deals you find online! Find Barrels, uppers, lowers, muzzle brakes, quad rails, bcg's, lower parts kits, back up sights flip up sights , dot sights and much more
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2023.03.21 20:24 z-a-T-c-h Thoughts on VORSK’s VMP-1?

Thoughts on VORSK’s VMP-1? submitted by z-a-T-c-h to airsoft [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 20:22 Hendrick_Hiwpol Was anyone's illness caused by an action you took which you play over in your mind day after day?

I am chronically ill now from L C*, though not cfs but writing here for other perspectives, and I am thrown in to the world of hurt and suffering. I have moved from the land of the healthy to the land of malady.
I have also read quite a few stories of cfsers who were at the top of their game before being struck down, like a light going off, so I ask for other similar stories.
My life was so on track and everything was going my way. At the end of my 30s it felt like I was finally starting to figure things out then in an instant it has flipped and I am in a living nightmare every day thinking what if I chose differently and continued to be cautious my life would not have been decimated.
There is no end in sight now to my suffering.
I wondered if others had a similar situation happen via different means. I would like to hear your tales of woe as it is somewhat therapeutic even though it makes non of us better. It helps to know others arrived at their fucked up situations in a similar fashion.
I honestly just don't know how I will live with myself the rest of my life if nothing changes and having to live with that fucking decision for the rest of my life.
*I am not writing it out as I noticed in a couple of recent posts bots/trolls seem to search up recent posts on reddit for the keywords I guess and descend on them to vomit their bile no matter which sub it is in.
submitted by Hendrick_Hiwpol to cfs [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 20:19 Lanzen_Jars A job for a deathworlder [Chapter 107]

[Chapter 1] ;[Previous Chapter] ; [Discord + Wiki] ; [Patreon]

Chapter 107 – A Patron Saint

“[…] with the leadership of many territories claiming that the muted response to the thread is once again a blatant showing of the Community-Leadership’s clear bias against Deathworld affairs. Loratexach Echtsesimm, the current leader of the united Lachaxet territories, even went so far as to call it, quote: “A kick to the face for all those of us seeking to live in a peaceful unity.” Meanwhile other deathworld groups, like the occupants of the only known Class V deathworld, the Ligormordillar, are trying to quell the conflict and urge their fellow deathworlders to make a measured response, pointing to the lack of any concrete evidence when it comes to the recent events, and asking to give authorities a bit more time to investigate things. However, the accusations of corruptions that emerged in the last quarter have many people questioning how much the current Acting Galactic Council can truly be trusted with the investigations, and calls for the addition of independent investigations are becoming louder,” an Urounaek news caster professionally read off the seemingly endless lines of texts on her teleprompter, while b-footage of recordings of the sitting governments of a diverse number of species played in the background. “Surprisingly, humanity, the largest accuser of corruption in the Galactic Council as well as a front runner in the proclaimed fight for the extended rights of people and especially deathworlders that feel ousted by the Community, and also one of the Myiat’s currently closest military allies, have so far made no official statements or press-releases about the incidents, apart from damming the attack as a violation of intragalactic law as well as the laws of war.”
James passively allowed himself to be doused by the white noise of the TV that Shida had basically been glued to for the last days while he checked through his messages and mails on his phone and laptop. Of course, any of his addresses and contacts that had at some point been public in some way had been absolutely bombarded with a torrent of spam, threats, offerings, accusations, and even more spam. It was a daunting task to sift through all of the messages in an attempt to pick out the few of them that could possibly be useful every day, especially since those were extremely few and far in between, however, he still did it. On the one hand, he did it because he felt that it was his duty to leave nothing untried, no stone unturned, and no resource unused in these dire times they found themselves in. On the other hand, it was a quite time- and labor-intensive yet still comparatively easy task that he could easily waste away hours with without feeling like he was being unproductive.
Of course, all the really important messages he received would be forwarded to him through his more secure contacts that just select people had access to, and therefore the things he did find in his private messages were usually rather menial in comparison, however it was still something.
His hopes of not feeling so left out and abandoned anymore now that shit had thoroughly hit the fan had sadly been short-lived, as it quickly became clear that any broadcasts and statements to the outside world when it come to the topic at hand would be made by actual diplomatic professionals and not by-circumstance Ambassadors that had basically stumbled into their role.
…Which was honestly fair enough, James had to admit. Certainly, people who did this for a living had a much lower chance of screwing everything up and making things even worse than they already were than he did.
However, that did little to quell the nervous and anxious energy within him that just begged to be released in some productive way.
“While official governmental replies are being released by the hundreds by individual species, many collaborative political groups have also proclaimed their intentions to react to the current tensions caused by the attack on Dunnima. For example, many order-collaborations have been sending out invitations for emergency-conferences to possibly discuss a united reaction and collaborative measures to help ease the Galactic Tensions between their members; among others, the collaborative councils of the Tetsudines, Psittacines, Corvids, Hymenoptera, Canines, Skitellifera, Estotsucuvae, and Primates will be gathering within the week to discuss possible measures. Additionally, for the first time in about 12 uniform years, a recently founded, provisional ‘council of deathworlders’ is also inviting possible participants to a first conference, after having reportedly struggled to find an adequate venue for such an event for a few uniform months. This council is the thought-child of representatives of the Lachaxet, Ligormordillar, Roosh’gaack, and Teracheponn territories, who are now trying to get representatives of as many deathworlds as possible to take part in it, claiming it as an important step towards future collaborations between the so-designated worlds and people.”
“I wonder who they’re going to invite,” Shida commented as she tensely leaned forwards and absorbed the news with great concentration, her ears opening widely to not miss a single detail. Inside, she was just as rearing to go as James was. But just like him, she was also bound to the orders they were being given.
So far, they had both not been called in to reinforce the fleets that were either stationed to more intensely control the borders of their own unified borders or sent out into the cosmos to reinforce the myiat’s defenses after the first attack. However, the military base in Lorraine that they had been staying at for a while now had certainly become a lot emptier ever since the attack, leaving basically only instructors, very fresh recruits and essential personnel behind. And themselves, of course.
The constant tramping of boots outside of their doors had been replaced by an eerie emptiness, and their regular trainings-sessions that they had along with other occupants had also run dry, as most of the people on a similar level to them had received orders to move. And working with actual trainees didn’t exactly have a lot of appeal to it either.
“They have plenty of options,” James mumbled while his eyes flew across rows and rows of recently received mails, going back hour by hour that he had slept while sifting through piles and piles of junk.
Finishing off with the mail-service he had used during his Uni-days without having found anything of note, he then switched over to the next tab, where he had opened his miraculously still not out of service work-mail that had been assigned to him during his in hindsight very brief time of working on the G.E.S.-32.
He had no idea why exactly it was still in service, but as long as he received messages to it, he was going to check them, even if so far, this had by far been the least useful of his addresses when it came to receiving any messages of actual note.
And indeed, it was once again basically all junk.
Spam, a death threat, a very angry email from a former coworker, spam, more threats, a clearly fake solicitation from some firm he had never heard of, some news-channel trying to get an interview with him, spam, another news channel, spam, even more threats, spa-
He paused for a moment as his cursor hovered over a mail he had apparently received about five hours ago, that had the very brief and uninformative title of
“You are invited.”
Usually, he would’ve almost instantly disregarded it as clearly some form of spam, however after what he had just heard on the news, it made him raise an eyebrow and quickly check the address it was sent from.
Lifting the eyebrow even further as he saw an actual, official government address, he clicked on the mail to open it up. Slowly, his eyes read over the neat lines of text that had been revealed to him, his eyes getting wider and expression becoming more confused and disgruntled by the moment.
Was this a joke?
“What’s up?” Shida asked, apparently having noticed his expression changing, and just as anxious to do something as he was, she immediately stood up and walked over to him to glance at his screen while her tail swiftly flailed through the air. “One of the threats getting too personal?”
James shifted his lips as he gathered his thoughts to reply.
“No, I was invited to one of those conferences,” he said, and his eyes quickly double-checked if this invitation was actually addressed towards him and hadn’t just accidentally landed with the wrong person by some sort of blunder.
Shida glanced at him in mild confusion, her yellow eyes scanning over his face while trying to read his thoughts from it.
“The Deathworld one? That’s not surprising, is it?” she commented with a flick of her ears, before pressing up to his side a bit closer so she could lower herself in a position that would allow her to more easily peek at his mails. “Not only are you a deathworlder, you’ve also been a pretty public figure when it comes to the public fight for more rights. Hell, you probably inspired them to found that whole thing in a way, so of course they want you along for the ride.”
James scoffed slightly and turned his screen so she could look at it.
“Well, if it was that, I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said and waited a second for Shida to read, seeing her face also slowly turn into a more confused one as she realized what the invitation he had received was for, before he added, “But this is from the council of primates.”
Shida looked at the message for a little longer before turning only her eyes towards him.
“What the hell do they want?” she asked with clear distrust in her voice. James just shrugged.
“A trap? Appeasement? Publicity? Options are numerous,” he said with an exhausted exhale before switching the tab yet again to log into his ‘professional’ mail services, copy-pasting the text of the invitation before forwarding it to a pre-prepared list of people that should probably be informed about this.
Shida hissed through her teeth and stood up straight again.
“Are you going?” she asked, crossing her arms and glancing down at him.
“If I have a say in this? Absolutely,” James replied after hammering the ‘send’ button. Anything to get out of here and do something at this point. Besides, it would probably give him the opportunity to give some people some serious stern talkings to. “Buuuuut you know how this goes.”
“We should keep an eye open who else might get invited to something,” Shida commented after acknowledging his reply with a huff but not responding to it. James nodded. In his periphery, he noticed how Shida’s fingers were starting to dig into her arms as her grip likely inadvertently tightened, and he reached out to rub his hand against her side, wordlessly aiding her with relaxing.
“They have plenty of options,” he repeated his earlier statement as he opened the invitation one more time.
“You are invited.
James Aldwin, Ambassador of Earth by community tradition, you have been officially invited to the emergency conference of the council of primates. Given recent events, the council has decided it is imperative to coordinate a response among the members of our esteemed order.
As humanity has so far not had a representative in the council of primates, it has been decided to extend an invitation to you for this conference. This invitation officially grants you access to the venue on Nedstaniot-Station and makes you eligible for a support-fund covering the traveling costs for you and an accompanying group of up to ten (10) companions of your choosing.
Should you accept this invitation, please contact us under one of the council of primate’s official addresses to receive access data to the necessary accounts as well as a detailed plan of the venue and scheduled events.
Should you not accept this invitation, a message of your declining is not strictly necessary, but always welcome to aid in planning.
I hope this message finds you well and am looking forward to possibly meeting you at the venue.
Sincerely
Klanneifer FF of the Tiasonko.
Success to you!”
Well, if they weren’t going to regret that…

--

Alexander clutched the necklace around his neck tightly as he looked into the mirror, taking deep breaths to quell his nerves.
Yes, he was nervous. Extremely so in fact. He thought that he would be excited previously, but now that the time had come, he could feel only the nerves.
Well, maybe that was understandable. Something like this really didn’t happen every day, after all.
“God, give me strength,” he prayed silently with his hands clutching the symbol of his faith even tighter.
Then, he took a minute to, one last time, check if his hair was in place and his robes were immaculate. He couldn’t make a fool out of himself on an occasion like this, after all. His own blue eyes stared back at him from the mirror sternly. Scrutinizing. As if he was judging himself. And he should. After all it was a big day. Taking a moment to judge oneself was important in moments such as this, lest you get complacent and started to make the wrong choices.
Soon after, there was a knock at the door.
“Father Mokoena is beginning his sermon, Alexander,” a muffled voice said from the other side. “You should be ready for when you are called upon.”
Alexander exhaled deeply and took one last look at the mirror, his gaze wandering from his own eyes down to the pendant around his neck.
“I’m on my way,” he then assured the Brother waiting outside, before stepping away from the dresser with a flourishing movement of his robes.
As he stepped out of the cloakroom, brother Anders slightly bowed to him, before stretching out a robed arm to guide him in the right direction. The brother was of the older sort, yet he had held his body in a shape worthy of a temple. Thinning and greying rose-blond hair did little to distract from that, as his wide frame could easily be spotted even through the loosely fitting robes.
A man of devotion in more than one way.
Alexander moved in a slow and measured way, his head held high, as Brother Anders guided him through the branched and tight back hallways of the old theater that they were holding today’s sermon in. As they got closer to the stage, Alexander could already hear the booming voice of father Mokoena as he addressed the masses from his place on the stage. It was no microphone he heard there, no amplifiers or other speakers. Only the impeccable voice of a devoted preacher.
Despite his age, the man had pipes like the largest organ, and still he was speaking at a volume that Alexander wasn’t used to from him. Inhaling deeply, he swallowed for a moment. Hopefully the people would even be able to hear him when he spoke. He certainly couldn’t bellow like the father could. Then again, this was a theater. Maybe his voice would be carried further by the acoustics than he anticipated.
It was rare for him to speak in a place like this, after all.
For a moment, Alexander thought about houses of faith. All the temples, churches, mosques, synagogues and whatever else he had visited throughout his life. Their large, marbled halls. Their magnificent decorations. The instruments and loudspeakers and all the other tools they were equipped with for impressive…performances.
That is what he had always called them. Performances. All those people just playing at faith while all they truly worship was their own selfishness.
And yet here he stood in the backrooms of a theater, watching as a father Mokoena gave a sermon on a literal stage and waiting for his cue to join him in the spotlight. What ironic twists fate could take.
The theater had been the most sensible option of a place that was for rent for one night and also held enough seats for this many people to come together. Still, he wondered if maybe they should have swallowed the tougher pill and looked for something else. For his liking, this was a bit too close to making a mockery of the event. The ‘houses of God’ may have been a sinful sham, but was this really much better?
Still, what was done was done. And while reflecting on past mistakes was certainly a virtue, getting stuck on them was most decidedly not. They were here now, so they would use what they had.
He and Anders finally came to a halt right at the side of the stage, hidden behind the large, red curtain that could be used to cut the stage off from view. Of course, today, it would stay wide open for the entire time, allowing everyone to witness.
“Are you nervous?” Brother Anders quietly asked him, leaning in close to whisper so there was no chance of his voice leaking out and disturbing the Father’s sermon.
Alexander smirked in slight anxiousness.
“Of course, I am,” he confessed honestly. “It’s not every day you get to make proclamations this weighty…or enemies this powerful.”
“Are you afraid of them?” Anders then asked with an almost pitiful look at Alexander, who sighed deeply.
“Of course, I am,” he confessed yet again. “I’d be a fool not to be.”
The task before him was grand, and his foes, in a way, even grander. There was a reason that the realized that had plagued Earth once upon a time had taken the name of heaven’s general for itself. They were powerful. And they knew it.
And that was not even mentioning the force of Earth’s armies, that could turn against them on a whim of fate. Masters over the forces of nature. The undisputed leaders of destructive power. Those who had managed to best such a powerful being before.
Yes, he was afraid. But overcoming fear was a virtue as well.
Meanwhile, the sermon was starting to whip up into a louder cadence, as Father Mokoena seemingly began to introduce the important part of the evening.
“[…] Many years has he studied and prayed and silence, following the will of our Lord by standing by and reflecting. Keeping humble. Keeping modest. And he has developed into a fine man of faith. Eighteen years of serving and studying under our faith, hidden away in the dark and obscure, waiting for the event that would catalyze his becoming! Now it has finally come. And with it came the time for him to step out into the light! Please welcome with me, oh children of the Lord, our newest ‘Guide’! Guide Alexander Paige!” the Father loudly announced and lifted his arm in the direction of where Alexander still stood out of sight. The bald head of the dark-skinned man reflected the spotlights above while his modest robes swung around from the energetic movement.
Meanwhile, Alexander took a deep, calming breath.
“Best of luck, Guide Alexander,” he could hear Brother Anders next to him say, and he respectfully bowed to the man before advancing out of the shadows and into the light.
His eyes narrowed strongly, and he had to resist the urge to lift his hand in order to protect them from the blinding light that now blared down on him. Of course, he did his best to keep his respectful and reverent expression before the Father, however he wasn’t quite able to entirely resist the pain of the rays stinging into his sight. Still, he advanced with quick yet collected steps all the way up to the side of the Father.
“Don’t scream,” he told himself as he prepared his throat for how loud he would have to talk to be heard in a place such as this. The lights were so bright and the rest of the room so dark that he couldn’t see those listening to him, but he still knew they were there. Hundreds of them. Another failure of this chosen venue. He couldn’t even see the faces of those that would listen to his words. How could he claim to speak to them if he couldn’t even look them in the eyes?
Well, it was too late now.
“Thank you, Father,” Alexander loudly announced as he had finally reached the man, and he did his best to talk as loudly as possible without it escalating into shouts. It was hard to gauge how far his voice carried in this room, and he silently prayed that he would be understood.
The Father then reached out his arm, offering his old, worn hand to Alexander. Alexander reciprocated the gesture, taking the Father’s hand with his right, while positioning his left underneath, pressing its palm up against the father’s wrist. Meanwhile, the father lowered his left onto Alexander’s wrist from above, holding his hand as if he was blessing it.
“Alexander!” Father Mokoena loudly greeted him, and Alexander almost flinched at the intensity of his voice up close. If that was what it took to be heard around here, then his own words would merely come across as a whimper. He truly hoped that the old preacher was just overdoing it with his enthusiasm. “You have finally found your treacherous sea, it seems!”
“Indeed,” Alexander replied and really just couldn’t measure up to the Father’s incredible voice no matter how he tried. What an impressive organ. “And I am prepared to guide my fellow men through it, towards safer ventures.”
“And the Lord shall bless your path!” the Father proclaimed, before taking his hands off of Alexander’s again.
“May the Lord bless your path,” a gentle echo came from the unseen crowd.
“And yours as well,” Alexander replied quickly, having almost forgotten to do so given the stressful situation.
The Father nodded deeply, before stepping away from Alexander and in front of the crowd again for a second, as he raised his arms high and declared,
“Tell us about your treacherous path, Guide Alexander, so we veer from it with you!”
Then, with another flourishing movement of his robes, he stepped back and aside, leaving Alexander basically alone in front of the many unseen eyes watching him.
Even after years of waiting, he wasn’t truly prepared for this. For the briefest of moments, he imagined just walking off. But no. He had to do this. This is what he had lived for. His entire life up until now had led up to this moment.
“I am telling you all no secret when I say that the recent times have been turmoil filled ones,” he began to speak, getting right to the matter at hand without any greetings or big introductions. The air around him felt heavy, and the room was so quiet whenever he didn’t speak that he could hear the lights above softly buzzing with electricity. The old wood under his feet gently cracked whenever he shifted his weight, and he was sure that it could be heard all the way up in the top rows whenever it happened. “As all of you who have come together here know, we stand in front of a huge danger. You do not need a guide to tell you that treading in the domain of a realized leads to peril. Such an affront needs no explanation on my side.”
He swallowed heavily, truly hoping that they had not all come together to hear him proclaim that he would guide them against the A.I.
That was simply no task for a Guide. Yet hopefully the others understood this as well and did not think that he was avoiding the threat in order to pick an easier mission for himself. After all, he would still gain its ire with his words, he was sure, even if it was not his declared danger.
Swallowing again, he continued,
“No, I am here today to talk with you about something else. About someone else. Someone whose words have touched many; and influenced even more. A man who was thrust into conflict against his will. Hurtled into the chaos, he fought, and the galaxy shook before him. A man known to the entire Galaxy obviously needs no introduction, but I would still like to take a moment to list James Aldwin’s achievements to give you a better picture of what I am talking about. Before his life was thrust into conflict, he used to dedicate his time to the improvement of life. He took some of nature’s gifts, and he used them to make new things that would aide people in need. Medicine was his claimed goal, and although he never got to reach that state, he had the clear intention to make life easier for many with his inventions, caring little for where they came from. Then, after his life changed for the worse, his focus shifted. Instead of trying to safe the ill somewhere in the future, he instead dedicated himself to saving people right here and now.”
Talking himself up into a bit of a frenzy, Alexander began to walk back and forth on the stage without even fully realizing that he was doing it. The blinding spotlights were still turning everything that wasn’t the stage into a dark, blocked out void. Night had been separated from day, and he was standing in the sun.
“He turned his focus onto those he thought to be like him,” he explained, starting to make wide gestures with his arms that caused his robe to move in flowing downward waves, embellishing his movements even further. “Those whose lives had been thrown into chaos through no doing of their own. Those born into it. Those ousted. Those who felt ‘othered’ by the world. The pariahs. He promised them acceptance, with little care for who they were.”
He then stopped his pacing for a moment to fully face the crowd, his gaze turning upwards so they would all be able to see it.
“Even when faced with one of our world’s greatest calamities asking him to take it in, he did not cave,” Alexander proclaimed, and he could feel himself tapping into potential of his lungs that he didn’t know he had within him, as his voice boomed throughout the theater. “Despite knowing of the danger in his path, he walked it all the way. Truly, what kind of man is it that will turn no one away? What kind of man who puts himself on the wayside to help others? What kind of man that cares not for who or how?”
“A Saint!” a booming echo came back from the crowd, and Alexander could feel the vibrations of their roar beneath his feet as it rolled over him.
“Indeed,” he replied to the people. “After seeing the path he walked, I say that his actions are worthy of nothing less than sanctity!”
A sound came back from the crowd that was hard to describe. It was neither jeering nor cheering, but something entirely in between. A deep rumble that filled the air with almost nonsensical noise as it escaped the mouths of hundreds of people who reacted to his declaration.
Alexander now lifted his arms in a wide arch, as if he wanted to beckon the crowd into an embrace.
“By the Ministry of the Church of the Failed Savior, bestowed upon me as your new Guide, I hereby proclaim James Aldwin as the Patron of Realized Sapience!” he loudly declared, and the noise of the crowd picked up in intensity.
He took a deep breath while letting the sound slowly fade out, although he didn’t wait for the people to be completely quiet before he let his arms sink again and continued in a milder tone.
“Sanctity is a dangerous path,” he said as he began to slowly pace along the stage again, this time with collected, measured movements. “The Saints walk it, and they invite all who will to follow. They do not warn them of the danger. In fact, they encourage all to face it. Proclaiming their path as the right one, they tell all who follow to not stray from it, no matter the danger. It is a dangerous thing indeed, such a Saint.”
He stopped again, but this time, he didn’t face the crowd. Turned to the side, he stared straight ahead, his eyes fixating on a part of the folded, red curtains while his mind went to a different place.
“Saint Aldwin believes himself to walk the right path, and nothing is holy to him, neither on Earth nor in Heaven, man made or God given, but that which allows him to follow it,” he said, still loud, but a lot more restrained in emotion. “He believes himself to be a protector. A shepherd. A…savior.”
This time, the jeering of the crowd was palpable, as the ground once again shook with it. Any sense of good will had disappeared from the noise.
Now, Alexander waited for it to completely die down. Calm and quietly, he stood there without moving a muscle for minutes on end while the sound gradually faded out.
Only when he could have heard a pin drop in the enormous room did he speak up again.
“As your new Guide, I promise to show you the way to the safe road. I promise to disarm traps and sweep away obstacles in your way. I promise to keep my sight on the destination, and to always point you in the right direction should you stay. And…” he paused for a moment to take a deep breath, before he continued louder than before, lifting his head high as he did so. “And I promise to veer you off the paths of all the Saints and Doomed to Fail Saviors who would have you walk with them into hell!”
A cheering broke out in the crowd, going so far that some of the people began to drum their feet on the ground in a wild, rhythmless thunder.
Meanwhile Alexander turned around to face the man behind him.
Father Mokoena had a wide smile on his wrinkled face as he walked back up to him, his hand extended. As they repeated the same gesture they had given each other earlier, the Father loudly announced,
“God bless your path, Guide.”
“Thank you, Father,” Alexander replied with a deep nod. “I am going to need it.”
After a moment, they let go off each other’s hands again, and Alexander wordlessly walked back off the stage, while Father Mokoena already loudly addressed the crowd again.
Behind the curtain just off the stage, Brother Anders was still waiting for him.
“A captivating speech,” the muscular man complimented him with a brief faux applause he hinted at with his hands, not actually clapping so he wouldn’t disturb the sermon. “But was that a reference I spotted in the middle of it there?”
Alexander scoffed at the man.
“All speeches have references,” he said while he passed the Brother, folding his hands behind his back as he went.
Anders looked after him in mild confusion.
“Aren’t you going to stay and hear the sermon?” he asked as Alexander was already disappearing away from the stage again.
“My faith is between me and our Lord,” Alexander explained as he shook his head. “My prayer does not need an advocate.”
No, instead of wasting time listening to a sermon of prayers that he could speak himself, he decided to instead use it to look after those who were in need of his guidance.
Walking back to from whence he came, he passed his earlier cloakroom and traversed the hallways all the way to a larger, much more open changing room, that would usually most likely house droves of actors or other performers in marvelous costumes before they would go out on stage to dazzle the masses.
Today, however, it was home to a much sadder sight.
Laid out on two benches, surrounded by their peers, were two truly pitiful casualties of conflict. As he walked in, their ears twitched and they began to look up in erratic movements, their muscles twitching and shivering as if under immense stress from just the simple movements, and even after their head was lifted, it was stuck in a constant quiver.
Meanwhile, their far healthier compatriots also turned towards him, their gazes dark and eyes sharp, while their agitated tails whipped through the air like angry flails.
“How are you feeling?” Alexander asked the first of the two clearly ill myiat who met his gaze.
“According to the…circumstances,” the man replied, his voice about as jittery as his posture as he spoke. His name was Mirrakshra. A good man, suffering a bad fate.
Meanwhile, one of their healthy compatriots, a dark-skinned fellow with a scar from a cut right over his cheekbone that had accompanied Alexander since back on Dunnima, glared at Alexander with fiery eyes as he saw the kind of robe he wore.
“If you’re going to try some sort of faith-healing bullshit, then I swear to-“ he began, however Alexander cut him off harshly.
“You shouldn’t swear, Eskfotarra. Not on heaven or on Earth,” he reprimanded him with firm words. Then he smirked, “You may promise to harm me all you like, however. But no, that’s not why I’m here. I’m not a fool. I know I can’t work miracles. I simply worry about his wellbeing.”
“It’s al..alright,” Mirrakshra quelled the worries of his friend. “Y-y-you got news?”
Alexander exhaled disappointedly.
“Sadly, yes,” he said and looked away. “It seems that some of our allies have…how do you say…jumped the gun? They attempted to exterminate the affront prematurely, and in the process, have only made it all the more enduring, it seems.”
Eskfotarra scoffed and his ears twitched slightly as his tail slowed to a gradual sway.
“So, she’s out now?” he correctly assumed, and the smirk on his face told of him not finding those circumstances all too disagreeable. An unfortunate choice, but his to make.
“Indeed,” Alexander replied. “And at the scale we’re currently working at, I’m afraid it’s going to be hard to stamp it out.”
By now, the AI might have infected the entire Galaxy. There was no telling of the kind of hardships they would soon face because of it.
However, Eskfotarra just glanced down at his ill friends again as his grimace soured.
“And Aldwin?” he asked darkly.
Alexander lifted his arms with open palms and shrugged.
“Hidden away where we cannot reach him, at least for the moment,” he explained.
The myiat aggressively clicked his tongue and hissed through his teeth.
“Then when will we be able to reach him?” he asked, his claws unfurling on his arm, cutting into the sleeve of his shirt. “It’s high time that he answers for a lot of things.”
In a picture that should be grotesque but could only be described as empathetic, the quivering, injured feline laying before him looked up at his healthy friend with pity, while wrath seemingly consumed Eskfotarra.
Alexander nodded.
“I’m sure he would agree with you there,” he pointed out, seeing as Aldwin had never been shy to point out his own misdeeds. “That is why sooner or later, he is going to make it possible. The danger is the nature of a Saint.”
submitted by Lanzen_Jars to HFY [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 20:01 eembach [WTS] Complete Geissele Super Duty Upper 11.5" Black, w/ REBCG and Airborne CH

https://imgur.com/a/8Nt0g12
Bought it new, fired 50 rounds on it, everything works great, I just caught the .308 bug and am looking to yet into AR-10s. I'd prefer to sell the upper complete, but if someone wants just the reciever then I'll sell the BCG and CH separately.
Super Duty Upper Reciever: $800
Reliability Enhanced Bolt Carrier Group: $250
Airborne Charging Handle: $80
Buy it all together for $1000 or OBO
The Iron Sights pictured are not included, but you can have the rail scails, angled foregrip, and mlok/picitanny rail adapter if you want them. It also comes with an MLOK QD attach point on the left side.
If there's interest or people want more pictures I'll take more and put another album in the comments.
Paypal preferred, FF or G&S, if G&S buyer pays the fee.
submitted by eembach to GunAccessoriesForSale [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 19:53 CardMasterToast28 A “Episode” I swear I remember but can’t find

Ok I feel like I’m going insane.
Maybe about 6 moths-a year ago I started and went through all the episodes on Spotify (as well as the q&a’s but only those). I remember during my listening at work i came across one episode that caught my interests right away
The statement was about an individual who lives in an apartment and hears trains going by a fair amount of times, despite no rail ways being in sight. He checks a map I believe online and does find one but still can’t see it when he goes outside. At one point he explores the direction and finds a hidden railway, and after following it comes across the source of the noise. A creature with railroads protruding from its back and making the distorted train wishing noise. After leaving the person finds the overgrown tracks starting to appear closer and closer to his house and the creature getting closer and closer. It ends with him moving but the rails eventually finding him
This could be one of the fan made ones but again I swear it was on Spotify and I can’t find it there/whenever I look up the details I get the episode about the underground metro system
submitted by CardMasterToast28 to TheMagnusArchives [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 19:45 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, Kara Gamma, BFK Freehand, BFK Bright Water, Spec Gloves Kimono, Nomad Fade, M9 Doppler, Skeleton, BFK B.Steel, AWP Fade, Stiletto Fade, S.Gloves Slingshot, BFK Ultra, Kara Damas, Bayo Lore, Bayo Gamma, Flip Fade & A Lot More

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $1867

★ Butterfly Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $1098

★ Butterfly Knife Blue Steel BS, B/O: $907

★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $789

★ Butterfly Knife Stained FT, B/O: $695


★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $888

★ Bayonet Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $727

★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $608

★ Bayonet Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $521

★ Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $253

★ Bayonet Night FT, B/O: $251

★ StatTrak™ Bayonet Lore MW, B/O: $751


★ Karambit Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1343

★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $774

★ Karambit Rust Coat BS, B/O: $537

★ Karambit Boreal Forest FT, B/O: $488


★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523

★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1523

★ M9 Bayonet Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $1008

★ M9 Bayonet Blue Steel FT, B/O: $534

★ M9 Bayonet Rust Coat BS, B/O: $449


★ Flip Knife Fade FN, B/O: $703

★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $509

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $406

★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $228

★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $332


★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $292

★ Falchion Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $264

★ Falchion Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $258

★ Falchion Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $133


★ Stiletto Knife Fade FN, B/O: $822

★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $569

★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $530

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $396

★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $172


★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $830

★ Gut Knife Fade FN, B/O: $204

★ Gut Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $138

★ Gut Knife Bright Water MW, B/O: $104

★ Gut Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $92

★ Gut Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $82

★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $93


★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $258

★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $165

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel FT, B/O: $82

★ Shadow Daggers Bright Water FT, B/O: $82

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel WW, B/O: $80

★ Shadow Daggers Rust Coat BS, B/O: $74

★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade FN, B/O: $186


★ Classic Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $311

★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $163


★ Talon Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $605

★ Talon Knife Scorched MW, B/O: $290


★ Ursus Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $405

★ Ursus Knife Night Stripe MW, B/O: $162


★ Paracord Knife Stained WW, B/O: $125

★ Paracord Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97

★ Paracord Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $96


★ Navaja Knife Safari Mesh FT, B/O: $71

★ Navaja Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $71


★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1015

★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $909

★ Bowie Knife Boreal Forest MW, B/O: $106

★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97

GLOVES

★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $335

★ Driver Gloves King Snake BS, B/O: $270

★ Driver Gloves Lunar Weave WW, B/O: $113

★ Driver Gloves Overtake WW, B/O: $88

★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $67


★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $171

★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $137

★ Moto Gloves Transport WW, B/O: $71

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $62


★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1027

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $654

★ Specialist Gloves Mogul FT, B/O: $295

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $277

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web FT, B/O: $275


★ Sport Gloves Slingshot FT, B/O: $796

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $699

★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $656


★ Broken Fang Gloves Unhinged BS, B/O: $60

WEAPONS

AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130

AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70

AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60


AWP Fade FN, B/O: $864

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $84

AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69

AWP Containment Breach FT, B/O: $69

AWP Wildfire FT, B/O: $59

AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $59

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $65


Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565

Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $565

Desert Eagle Printstream FN, B/O: $155

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $58


M4A1-S Icarus Fell FN, B/O: $414

M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204

M4A1-S Printstream MW, B/O: $204


M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1402

M4A4 The Emperor FN, B/O: $152

M4A4 Asiimov WW, B/O: $97


USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $65

USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69

StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $123

StatTrak™ USP-S Neo-Noir FN, B/O: $106


AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $218

P2000 Ocean Foam FN, B/O: $139

Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike MW, B/O: $81

CZ75-Auto Emerald Quartz MW, B/O: $61

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.

Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.

Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.

submitted by _Triple_ to Csgotrading [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 19:24 RaiderCane A (now) average/moderate fan's review (s1)

Take me back to the start. 2001, the last of the good times for a lot of us who were relatively grown up and not tiny kids at that point due to a certain horrific event we would all witness that year. Watching this season was a nostalgia trip for so many reasons; social media wasn't a thing, cell phones were still in their infancy especially compared to now, the internet was a thing obviously but not to the point where there was a massive presence for any of the contestants, the show was in standard definition, Phil?... actually, that dude hasn't aged much, WTF lol. It's almost like this was just a big experiment, considering all the changes made since and in some cases the very next season. The overall aesthetic was peak 90's - early 00's, the editing, cinematography, etc felt very much like The Real World (makes me wonder if there was some crossover in terms of people working on both shows), and as a 90s kid this made me smile. You get the sense there was a general attitude of "To hell with polish, just film it and whatever shakiness there is we'll leave it, even if it's an awkward super zoom into a contestants face). Plus, another ode to the time period is that there was a particular focus on the interpersonal dynamics within the teams and between them as opposed to more strict focus on the race itself which happened later on, which has its good and bad merits. Bottom line is this felt like a gamble that the producers and network took to take advantage of the reality tv boom, I remember how Survivor premiered and EVERYONE was watching it at some point, even I wound up watching the final few episodes of that first season. After that, it just exploded and how ironic that a few decades later, out of all that came from that time specifically that it is these 2 shows that are still going. One very creepy thing which almost happened was the finish line being the top of the World Trade Center, but they couldn't get the needed permits, and the show premiered 6 days before 9/11, so as I alluded to at the very start, it really is like watching a completely different world when you watch this season for many reasons and the nostalgia hit me hard a lot of times in good and bad ways. But what about the season itself?....


Rob/Brennan - The first winners are photogenic attorney friends. I have to admit, these 2 didn't make much of an impression on me at all. It's not that they were bad racers, or bad people, as they actually seemed rather kind and intelligent (lawyers, so of course), but I felt they were rather bland TBH. After they won the first ever leg in show history thanks to the fastforward (which was available in every leg, something they thankfully changed), they hit a snag in Tunisia and were on the verge of being eliminated and were one of the teams which got infuriated at airportgate (which I will get into later), but then they really hit their stride once they hit Asia, and wound up winning 4 of the last 5 legs. I know it doesn't seem like I have a ton to say about them, but the truth is they weren't particularly charismatic or even featured in a starring way til it got down to the end legs. A great all-around team, but not really one I ever got behind. I found it interesting that post-race, Brennan was with Emily for a time, unlike other seasons I never got those vibes from any interactions between them but they must have been there. I do know they had befriended both Nancy and Emily during the race and were a part of the airportgate situation and were pretty pissed off about it; like they said, you don't treat women like that if you're a guy.

Frank/Margarita - Maybe the loudest team, at least he was. Seriously, the guy must have been a mute when he was a child, cause his natural tone was LOUD lol. Anyway, they were the top team going by the composite average score and by the fact they were either 1st or 2nd in the final 8 legs. Their story was an interesting one, while at the same time not ridiculously frustrating. A separated couple with a small child who part of the reason for getting on this was to work on their relationship. You immediately saw why there were issues with them; as he is constantly yelling and flexing, ultra-competitive, making alliances which last just a few minutes before his massive pride has him essentially saying to hell with that. And at times, he even shouted and yelled at her, not necessarily out of anger but his way of motivating, and she showed her disdain for that often. But; there was actual growth from him, as he wound up apologizing when he reached maximum dickhead mode, something I am not accustomed to seeing on here. And, they wound up falling for each other all over again, which was shown more than once, which even if you weren't a fan of theirs, was a bit heartwarming. I thought they had it in the final stretch, going to their literal backyard for the finish line, and they felt it too which may have been their undoing. Thanks to the production and camera work, you literally saw as they were jogging to the finish line the emotions on their faces go from joy and relief to downtrodden when they saw the team they were head-to-head with for what felt like most of the race with how the final legs were strung out, already there. I was not surprised to find out they did indeed reconcile, but then split for good and remained friends, which is cool to know.

Joe/Bill - Team Guido, sigh. I love that they named their team after their dog, but beyond that, ugh. The ego and smarminess oozed off these guys almost from the start. They made multiple alliances but were so full of themselves that they would break them almost instantly, constantly bragging about how they had lived in Paris, they spoke French, they had traveled a lot. They truly thought they were better than everyone else, even saying out loud at one point that they had no competition. This behavior would be obnoxious enough from a team that was winning constantly, but they weren't. They actually only won 1 leg. Namecalling the New Yorkers by referring to them as 'The Fatties' wasn't exactly classy either. But the moment which cemented them as true douchebags was airportgate as I call it. They flip out when they find out that 3 teams managed to get a flight which would get them to the next destination first, ahead of them, when they had just been beaming over getting what they thought was gonna be the earliest flight. And their response was the mature thing to do obviously; going to the entrance as they were getting ready to board and blocking them and causing a massive commotion to try and keep them from getting on the plane. Security gets involved and at some point one of them pushes/physically restrains the smallest and oldest member of those 3 teams in Nancy, almost knocking her down. That was a scummy and cowardly thing to do, bottom line. They tried to retcon it afterwards, talking about how Kevin/Drew started it with their sarcastic yet threatening talk of breaking their legs earlier that day, and yes that was a bit much and I would be inclined to give them some benefit of the doubt there, except they didn't put hands on either of them and just so happened to target the physically weakest member in that crowded confined space. Now, due to it being so confined, we could only see so much and thus didn't experience the whole thing, but at this point it went from these guys are jerks in terms of strategy or whatever to they are massive pieces of shit. And they were treated as such basically the rest of the race, except by Nancy and Emily of all teams (I don't get that, Emily seemed like she wanted to push them off a cliff and then a few legs later they are hugging?). Their egos were their downfall, as they won a fastforward in Thailand and proceeded to almost get eliminated anyway by taking their sweet time to get to the pitstop. After that, they were hours behind the top 2 teams and as far back as an entire day before getting the clue that told them the race was over as they were still out in the wilderness. They were good sports about it, and even when they won the fastforward, tried to help out Nancy/Emily a bit which was shocking, but they left a bad taste in my mouth, and at times it seemed like they were a little too inspired by the first Survivor winner in fellow gay man Richard Hatch, they even talked a lot like him in terms of vocabulary and their approach to the race. I know they did pop up again in another season, and I admit they were certainly memorable, though not for good reasons.

Kevin/Drew - I know from looking into this season afterwards that they were the fan favorites this season, and while they weren't my favorite I can see why. They weren't deceivers, they didn't hide their true feelings, they were who they were and loud about it. Their preferred form of talking to each other was insults and putdowns, true guy friends there lol. They were all over the place in this race; at the bottom, at the top, in the middle. Their elimination basically came from the dreaded luck of the taxi driver, even if they had survived they were destined for third place with how far apart they were from the top 2 teams. There was a charm in their upfront attitudes, but some things made me shake my head, like saying Paris was nothing special, being a little too upfront about their disdain for India and them jokingly (maybe) telling Team Guido they would break their legs. But also, like Rob/Brennan, they befriended Nancy/Emily and almost saw them as their own mother and sister. I know they said it would be more beneficial to keep them around than one of the stronger teams, but you could tell by basic body language it wasn't just strategy and that they truly liked them. They were infuriated more than anyone after airportgate, and they made sure Team Guido knew it. I know they came back for an all-star season and also know Drew has had a variety of ailments and injuries unfortunately.

Nancy/Emily - They might have been my favorite team. Nancy reminded me a lot of my Mom in terms of her kindness but was really most similar to a great Aunt of mine, extremely faithful, prudish but not in a judgmental way but more of a hearing so much cursing and such made smoke go out her ears cause she is that innocent lol. I got to admit, Emily was someone who if I had been watching at the time I would have had a major crush on and even now I thought she was really cute and before anyone comes at me, I am actually several years younger than her and she was an adult at the time and is now a 43 year old wife and mom (way to make me feel old after seeing her be like a kid at times on here lol). Maybe the original underdog story, they even had a little faction on the show they called 'The Underdogs'. It was an interesting switch on the usual dynamic, as Emily took the lead role on the team as Nancy was rather meek and got flustered easily, though as the end neared for them they both were showing signs of having nothing left in the tank. I pointed out Emily was quite cute, even when she had that drastic hairdo change a few legs in (my biggest remaining question of this season is did she do that herself or did someone else do it and if so, why? Boredom? Early-00s fashion? I wasn't a girl at that time, I was busy dressing like a nu-metal punk with spiked hair and playing Playstation, female fashion trends didn't come on my radar lol). She pulled it off, but I remain curious. Anyway, the point I was trying to make was about her being the attractive one there, and it played into things in a good and bad way. Good and sweet when in Tunisia a whole horde of guys her age and younger volunteering to help the team out and Nancy being quick to point out it was probably because they thought she was cute (they weren't nearly as enthusiastic to help out any of the other teams). The bad coming in, sigh, India, where Emily gets propositioned on the street by a guy asking how much she charges. Holy shit, India was a major issue from the very beginning on this show in regards to female contestents, as they were repeatedly refused train tickets as well just because they were women and women are below rats there in terms of rights and importance. And this was where the beginning of the ned came for them, as they were both being swarmed by these males with zero boundaries as well as being deeply affected by the massive poverty, seeing dirty impoverished kids and babies coming up to their taxi, begging, staring, they were barely holding back tears. All of the teams dealt with seeing these things, and being hounded by people begging, but it really hit these two the hardest which was only amplified by the sexism and Emily cracked, she was calling them stupid out of frustration and it didn't get better in Thailand, as Team Guido once again prevailed over them, this time in a race for the fastforward and then they walked around for a few hours trying to find the vehicle the next clue directed them to and no one was being of any help and she just plain and simply says "Screw you" to one of the Thai people and they wind up giving up and taking a taxi to the pitstop. You could call them out for all of this, but it was just a buildup of stress and anxiety which finally broke them. Think about it; the airport incident which really upset Emily, as she was saying do what you want to her but not her Mom (whose biggest concern afterwards was the image this put out of American tourists, not even thinking about herself), they kept on coming in at the back of the pack, the India degradation and claustrophobia-inducing chaos there, coming in 2nd to Guido yet again and then not being able to find anyone to assist them. I said to myself a few legs prior that Emily was showing some fight still but they both just seemed completely battered and defeated and Nancy even admitted as much. And the saddest thing is, they would have moved on if they had just persisted with the task in Thailand due to Bill/Joes epic mistake, they would have finished ahead of them. And making it extra heartbreaking was finding out afterwards that Nancy died in 2011 of Lou Gehrigs disease, which is just among the worst ways to go. Thinking back on it, Nancy may have been showing a few early signs of it during this :-( Just a sad story, Emily is apparently doing fine, she was with Brennan for a while after the race (which raised my eyebrow, considering in interviews before the race she talked about her boyfriend at home more than once, I hope she didn't screw around on him during the race). But still, hard to not root for them and if I had been watching at the time, Emily would have been my first crush on the show FWIW lol.

Lenny/Karyn - This was a frustrating team to watch as it went on. I am just thankful they weren't married or engaged before this, cause they found out they were not meant to be during this. She says she was ultra-competitive, I say she was the definition of a nag, just incessantly chastising him and the longer it went on it spread to drivers and other public people as well. He wasn't innocent himself; routinely mocking her and being a complete dumbass, like in Paris he goes up to look for the monument and just immediately gives up and then just guesses (wrong) and they would have been gone right then and there if Emily hadn't inadvertently helped him find it. Talk about coldhearted though at the end, where she proceeds to end their relationship and lists every reason why. On national TV. I mean, damn that was brutal, you could see him just leaving his body as she went on and explained basically all his flaws and failings, WTF. They did indeed break up right after, though they said it wasn't because of the race, which I kinda agree with since these fissures were gonna explode regardless of what they were doing. He got married and has a few kids and she started a law firm, so I'm sure she isn't hurting for $$$ lol.

Paul/Amie - They were opposites, which made me wonder how they got engaged. She was competitve and he wanted to quit every five minutes. That was the tale of this team, and I wanted to genuinely smack this guy. Every leg, he is bitching and whining about wanting to go home, wanting to quit. Struggling to get a taxi? Let's quit. Taking too long at a task? Let's quit. Pulled a muscle? Time to quit. Hard time taking a dump? Let's go home, I quit. It was like a cuckoo clock set to go off every hour with this douchebag. He tried to make excuses a few times during it, saying he was only saying things like that cause he hated to see her get upset, BS dude, you just are being a little bitch, trying to break the telescope in Paris and kicking things as you threaten to, what else, quit. If she had an equal partner in this, this team would have gone much further. Instead, she had a big baby who said he didn't want to do this and was only there for her (to what, make her miserable?). Their end came via getting lost in the Sahara Desert, talk about nightmare fuel there, and they were so lost they wound up driving to the back of the pitstop somehow. She's throwing up in the back of the car, it was torturous to view. They did indeed get married several years later, but are no longer together (damn, none of these couples survived, kinda sad to see). Her near-catfight with the teachers was humorous though, even yelling at one point "You're a fat bitch!" (somewhere, Nancy turned beet red lol).

Dave/Margaretta - Probably the first team in TAR history to inspire the "Awww" feeling. Immediately, you saw it was gonna be a struggle for them physically due to the age differences, in the very first leg they could have gotten the fastforward but they got outpaced by Rob/Brennan and had to struggle their way back up after struggling all the way down. They continued to persevere though, and continued to struggle, like completely passing the clue in Paris and getting penalized at the start of the next leg as a result. Along the way, they did inspire the other couples with their amazing relationship and love, and provided some insight I actually hadn't thought of before, specifically about how these are all good people who are thrust into an intense, super-competitive, high pressure situation which is also exhausting and that will bring out the worst in people. They were truly kind people to the very end, which was frustrating to see it end sooner than it probably should have, as their taxi driver was an asshole for lack of a better term and was refusing to take U.S. money and arguing with them. And seeing a bunch of the teams at their elimination saying their goodbyes and paying their respects to them (which happened several times this season, can't recall seeing that in any other seasons) just drove home the point these were good people. Finding out that several years later, Dave would lose his soulmate to after a multiyear battle with cancer and pulmonary fibrosis was quite sad to hear, he is still going last I checked but you could tell they were 2 peas in a pod so that was extremely sucky news.

Pat/Brenda - The first team to go from 1st to eliminated in the span of 1 leg, not a great achievement. They never exhibited the mental togughness I think you need to really compete in this though, as they were freaking out at the airport prior to Paris over issues with flights. They had the fastforward, like, no reason to flip your lid. Unless you get there 10 hours after everyone else I think you'll be fine. But then, they made the huge mistake of going to the wrong Pantheon and get eliminated. They seemed like solid enough people, but I never thought they were a threat in this.

Kim/Leslie - They were teachers and yet repeatedly did stupiud things and said they were stupid... that makes one feel so secure about the countrys future lol. They weren't good, came off as mean girls (to Amie anyway, though I found out afterwards they were quite the class clowns during their time on there), and were lost on both legs. And yet their run ends because of a damn taxi driver arguing with them over change. Nancy/Emily seemed friends with them, and they both attended one of their weddings a while later. I know Leslie is married with 3 kids and Kim has 2 kids, I assume she is married too judging by her last name being different. They just went on to normal lives it seems.

Matt/Ana - Forever famous for being the very first elimination in TAR history. Hard to say a whole lot about a team that is gone after one leg, I do know they did get divorced at some point later on. They did get pretty testy with the locals in Africa though for not being able to tell them where a location was. They wouldn't have been eliminated, but they got really lost on their way to the pitstop and thus arrived last. If they hadn't gotten so lost, I would have been deprived of the Nancy/Emily team which would have made this a worse season for sure.


I can see why this became a sensation of its own, though not on the level of the absolutely top tier of reality/game shows, in terms of ratings and buzz that is, like Survivor, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire and (ugh) Big Brother. A pretty good and challenging path, though no trip to South America, and there was certainly a novelty and uniqueness of taking these teams from all kinds of backgrounds and forcing them to travel the world as fast as possible, culture and language issues be damned. A bonus in some eyes would be a lack of stars or 'celebrities' or stunt casting, save for Team Guido who really seemed like they were trying to be what Richard Hatch was to Survivor. You had everyday friends, family and couples racing for the million dollar prize but also being friends for the most part, I think in part because they were enjoying this unique experience and in part because they knew they were a part of something special. Just seeing the way a lot of teams would gather at every pit stop to say their goodbyes and pay their respects to whoever got eliminated was such a departure from the likes of a Survivor, where you had people doing everything but wish death on the other (and I think even that happened once) and that is as much of a reason for TAR thriving and survivng as anything else. So much has changed since then; HD is the standard now, everyone is on about 5 different social media platforms, so many of the casted are already known figures in this era of no anonymity, cameras are always on you somehow, and have it ingrained in them to have a motto of "how many likes can I get and what will generate the most clicks?". Such a different world, and seeing the ages of the contestants from this season now makes me feel old lol (the youngest is now in her 40s and married, I see her on here and she's a college kid who looks like she is still in high school). This was far from a perfect season, a lot of drag in the latter stages due partly to the massive separation that developed between the top 2 teams and bottom 2 teams and later with the top 2 and 3rd place team and partly due to what seemed like an attempt to get to 13 episodes by any means necessary which led to a bit too much filler content which easily could have been trimmed and just felt like they were desperately trying to reach the episode quota. Also had a string of production issues and errors which led to teams placements getting changed, time credits being given, a pit stop being moved due to dangerous weather conditions (which they had no control of obviously, but it counts) and it was not exactly the most challenging in terms of roadblocks and detours, as they really seemed to make it so that the biggest challenge of the race was the actual traveling part, luckily in future seasons they managed to get a better balance so that you had to put max effort into everything and not just the tasks. But for several endearing people and teams, seeing some amazing sights around the world like the Great Wall and that waterfall in south Africa which you didn't get to see unless you read or watched National Geographic up to that point, the final sights of a simpler and better world for a lot of us millennials, the groundbreaking nature of the show, the camaraderie between a lot of teams, knowing with hindsight this was the start of something awesome and a flashback and massive shot of nostalgic warmth to days where I didn't have gray hairs popping up or injure my back from sleeping the wrong way (too many mosh pits lol), I give this inaugural season a 3.75 out of 5. As you can see, that puts it pretty high up there, but it comes up short of reaching my upper echelon. Next time, it will be a later season, since you can't go earlier than S1 lol.
Ratings:
S5 - 4.75/5
S15 -4.5/5
S13 - 4.5/5
S1 - 3.75/5
S27 - 3.5/5
S25 - 3.25/5
S21 - 3.25/5
S23 - 3.25/5
S2 - 3/5
S19 - 2.5/5
S29 - 2.5/5
S16 - 1.75/5
S32 - 0.25/5
submitted by RaiderCane to TheAmazingRace [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 18:59 Lord_Guyis Season 2 Episode 11 Manga and Anime Differences

Alright, here we go for the differences and comparisons between the anime and manga for season 2 episode 11. Standard disclaimers: 1. this is pretty much spoiler-free, I will only talk about the portion of content from the manga that was covered in the episode. 2. a difference one way or the other is not inherently a good or bad thing. I'll probably dislike the anime's changes, but those are my judgements, you have yours. 3. I am comparing the official english versions of the material that I have available to me, as such I'm comparing the 2 different translations, I'm aware the two JP versions almost certainly have identical wording in most parts. With that said, let us begin.
This episode covers all of chapters 75 and 76, including the cover of 76. Totaling 53 pages.
With that, this one is done. Very much just straight from the manga for this one. Outside of the different translations (which most of the time really aren't a difference per say), just some small cuts all over and that's about it. Good stuff.
submitted by Lord_Guyis to VinlandSaga [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 18:58 a15minutestory [WP] You are a student in the most prestigious magic academy in the kingdom. No one knows how you got in, sure you have amazing magic potential, but you’re “magic blind” meaning you can only feel the presence of magic and not see any magic. [Part 64]

A slave-driving murderer had just publicly declared war on us. The cheering and applause of the people standing around us was an eerie and ominous accompaniment to the feeling of dread swelling in my chest and radiating down to my stomach. He'd captured all of them thus far. I swallowed and dropped my gaze down to the pavement as it dawned on me that all of those people had tasted freedom, and were then immediately and mercilessly hunted down and dragged back to hell.
But there was an interesting caveat there. He called us by the names O'Malley had erroneously wrote down in his ledger. The men that were chasing us that day had picked up our actual fake aliases, but then we'd killed them at the inn. It seemed that knowledge died with them– a drop of good luck in a raging downpour it seemed.
"William," I said just loud enough to catch his attention.
He turned and eyed me. "Huh? Were you talking to me?"
I lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah. Who else would I be calling William?"
He narrowed his eyes, "It's Tovin, you spaz."
I glanced around nervously. Nobody appeared to have been listening to us. I took him by the shoulder and led him away from the crowd gathered around the picture boxes. "What are you doing?" I hissed.
"What am I doing?" he scoffed. "What are you doing? You know my name. What, are you playing a game right now?"
"Our aliases," I said through my teeth. "We're using fake names, remember?"
His expression changed from annoyed and confused to forlorn and somber. He swallowed and looked away. "... I'm losing it again, aren't I?" he asked.
I remained silent. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want him to feel worse about it, but that would have been a dangerous slip-up in front of the wrong person. Before now, I was starting to think that Tovin back home had overblown how quickly the mental decline would be.
"Don't worry about it," I said finally, passing him on the sidewalk further into the city. "Come on. We need to find a way to make some money."
"And fast," he added, trailing behind me. "We need food, clothes, and a couple of beds. And more cigarettes, too. I've only got a few left and I'm trying to make them last."
We walked the mazelike streets of Bronzegirder looking for work. I wasn't used to Diesel society yet and often found myself hung up on storefront windows that marketed all kinds of gadgets and technology. I would do my best not to stare when people walked by wearing metallic pieces on their persons.
Some wore gadgets on their forearms, some on their wrists, and others in various other areas. I wondered what purpose they served, where they were sold, and how expensive they could be. And it wasn't just the gadgets. There were far more dark-skinned people here than we had in Galgia. It was something I had read about but never experienced. They ranged from light tan all the way to almost black, and it just added to the culture shock.
There appeared to be people living in the buildings above the storefronts. The tall towers we had seen in the far distance earlier served as housing as well as business space. Diesillians stood on their balconies, some hanging wet laundry, others leaning over their railing while they enjoyed a drink or a smoke. We passed so many things I would have wanted to stop and look at were we not being hunted. DuPonte seemed awfully sure of himself when he said he'd find us, but for the life of me, I couldn't imagine how one would find antything they were looking for in this city.
"I'm totally lost," I admitted. "We need a map or something."
He remained quiet. I turned to speak to him more directly only to find that he wasn't behind me anymore. My stomach dropped as I looked around at the sea of people.
"William?" I called out. "William!"
It was no good. I'd have to literally scream if I wanted to breach the drone of the crowd, and I couldn't afford to draw too much attention to myself. There was also the possibility that he'd forgotten his name again anyway. I adjusted the straps of my backpack and sighed deeply before doubling back. He couldn't have wandered too far away, and he'd be easy to spot against the horde of people in more modern clothing.
I kept close to the storefronts as I picked up my pace. I began to peer into each store as I passed them. The longer I searched, the more I worried. He wasn't in his right mind. He'd get himself noticed and captured if he let too much slip, or pulled down his hood. I came to the turn we had taken after we'd left the picture boxes. He was with me at this point, I was sure of it. I turned around and swallowed as I scanned the crowd.
This was really, really, bad.
"William?" I tried again. I decided to cross the street and nearly got run over by one of their vehicles. It screeched to a stop and when I lowered my arms, I found the front of the metallic machine inches from my face.
"Git the fuck oudda da road!" shouted the pilot, shaking his fist in the air. I quickly scurried onto the opposite sidewalk and made my way down the street with the flow of the crowd. I kept my eyes peeled as I walked. It was difficult to see over everyone's shoulders. Diesillians were a good deal taller than Galgians as a rule, and it made it a nightmare for an average-sized guy like myself. Just when I was about to start asking around, something caught my ear.
Something I never expected to hear– music.
I stopped in my tracks and the public parted around me like a river around a boulder. I turned toward the sound and followed my ears to a large silver pavilion nestled between two tall buildings. It looked like an empty lot that had been designed for another tall building but instead served as some sort of inner-city courtyard where live entertainment performed.
I slowly approached as a woman stood in front of a mic stand singing while a band performed with shining metallic instruments behind her. She had black hair styled in a way I'd never seen hair styled. It was pulled up and around under a hat and shined the same as her red lipstick did. But what awed me the most was that she was singing.
No danger; no combat; no sign of beasts being summoned forth. She sang beautifully, adding something to music that I had never in my life once considered because in Galgia, to sing was to slaughter. Music was a tool of war and forbidden entirely outside of such circumstances, for if one of us were even to hum, anything could come crawling out of the resulting portal.
But here she was, singing what I presumed were the words to a poem in perfect rhythm and harmony with the band that played behind her.
"You're my machine, my heart's ignition. The gears that keep my love in motion. You're the engine that never tires– the pistons set my soul on fire."
I was completely taken in. It was therefore no surprise to me that here in the crowd, I spotted Tovin watching her with equal admiration from the edge of the stage. I weaved through the crowd as politely as I was able and then stopped next to him. He glanced at me before quickly returning his eyes back to the stage. I didn't say anything to him; no words needed said so long as she was singing.
"You, my dear, a love machine, the one that keeps my bearings clean– I'm addicted to your engine's roar, your power's what I'm living for."
I wasn't a hundred percent sure what she was talking about, but it was clearly a love song written for one lucky guy. When the song was finished, she ever so slightly lifted her ruby-red dress from the sides and took a bow. The crowd clapped, a few whistles coming from somewhere behind us.
"Thank you," she said softly into the mic. "It's important to remember that love conquers all," she said, passing her deep black eyes over us. "Hatred fades over time, but love lasts; it endures. This next song is about a long lost love and reconnection."
We stayed and listened to a couple more songs before she left the stage, and the band with her. She disappeared on promises of returning tomorrow for a second show. Of all the things thus far I had seen in the land of our enemy, something so sweet as non-weaponized music ranked among the most surprising and awe-inspiring.
As the crowd began to disperse back onto the main street, I turned to Tovin. "Hey, do me a favor and don't disappear like that. I didn't know where you were and we've got to stick together."
"Can we come back here tomorrow?" he asked, completely ignoring what I'd said. He stared at me with hopeful eyes, a small smile on his face. It still felt strange of him to ask me permission for anything, but I couldn't deny that it was a pretty magical performance.
"Only if we live that long," I answered with a heaping helping of snark. "We need money so we can get off these streets tonight. Come on, we're losing daylight."
He looked past my shoulder and suddenly pointed. "What about that?"
I turned to see a bulletin board posted on the side of a building not far from us. On it were several posts, but one of them specifically read, "200 Octim Sign-On Bonus." The two of us walked up the board and looked over the job.
"There's a sign-on bonus," Tovin said as his eyes moved down the paper. "The Empress needs you. Galgian dogs sent monsters to run amok in our fair empire. Officials are spread thin amidst heightened tensions with Galgia's military. Find and kill monsters for bounties. Seek employment at the Hunters' Barracks at 443 Alloy Avenue on the north side of town. Look for the men in uniform."
"Monsters?" I asked. "There aren't any monsters in Galgia. None in all of Aurii if our textbooks are accurate."
"You want to at least check it out?" he asked.
"I think we'd be wasting our time," I said dismissively. "We hiked through a bunch of wilderness closer to the Galgian border and we didn't see anything all night."
He folded his arms. "Then let's get our sign-on bonus and leave."
That was such a fantastic point that I pushed my palm against my forehead and visibly cringed. "Oof. Why am I so dumb?" I whined.
"I don't think you're dumb," Tovin said as he moved down the bulletin board to look at other flyers. "I think you're just honest to a fault. It never would have occurred to you to do something so underhanded."
I would never get used to compliments from Tovin. It was like watching a different person wear his body and speak with his voice. Had life at ENU really been such a drag on him?
"None of these other jobs are offering money upfront," he added, turning to face me. "Let's head to the north side of town and see if we can find Alloy Avenue."
x - - x - - x - - ★ - - x - - x - - x
The walk was long and difficult– not because it was too far, but because we had to pass so much delicious-smelling food along the way. I hadn't been sure before if Tovin was as hungry as I was, but the north side of Bronzegirder was quiet enough to hear both of our stomachs growling in concert with one another. The buildings were made of brick in the district we wandered through, and the walkways were closer to cobblestone like the kind we had back home. The roads were three times as wide, there were benches along the walkways, and they had planted trees caged in black iron gates at the trunks. The few people that strolled the sidewalks on Alloy Avenue were well-to-do, dressed in expensive-looking suits and wearing high hats with wide brims.
"I like this side of town better," Tovin said as we looked for building addresses. "Though I have to say, I'm surprised to see trees in the collossity."
"Goes a little against what we were taught doesn't it?" I asked.
"I don't recall being taught anything," he grumbled. "It's just another thing I somehow know."
I cast him a sympathetic glance and he didn't seem to like it. He scowled at me, "Don't you pity me."
"I'm not," I rolled my eyes. "I'd never feel bad for you Tovin, not in a thousand years."
"Just shut up," he snapped. "We're here."
He stopped in front of a brick building with an impressive stone staircase that had bronze handrails running up the length of them. At the top were two men in uniform just as the flyer had indicated. He was the first to start up the steps and I quickly followed behind him. As we passed them I took a good look at their uniforms. I could have sworn that I'd seen them somewhere before. We walked up to the glass doors and pulled them open.
A blast of warm air blew over us as we entered the building and it was a welcome reprieve from the cold. Inside was smaller than I had anticipated. I was expecting high ceilings, murals, metal artwork, and all kinds of stuff from how nice the outside looked. Instead, we found ourselves standing in a dirty lobby about the size of a headmaster's office. There were several rows of chairs dotted with people filling out forms on clipboards. At the back of the lobby was a little window with a man sitting on the other side. He was dark-skinned, had a shaved head, and bore a grisly pink scar across his cheek. He waved us forward when he noticed us.
"Let me do the talking," I whispered to Tovin, taking the lead in front of him as we made our way over; he didn't protest.
"Afternoon, gentlemen," he spoke into a microphone that relayed his voice to us through a little black device on the window. "Thinking about joining up?"
Before I could even speak, Tovin leaned onto the counter. "So when you say monsters," he adopted a skeptical look. "You mean like the ones that don't exist?"
The man behind the counter rolled his eyes. "Oh, great, another conspiracy theorist."
"What did you call me?" Tovin shot back.
"Ahhh, ha ha," I called out loudly, pulling Tovin back by his shoulder. "My brother is better at fighting than talking," I covered quickly. "Just talk to me from here on in."
He cast me a disinterested glance before handing us both clipboards with forms attached. "Whatever. Just read the whole thing and sign the liability waiver at the bottom. He's free to deny their existence while they're chewing his face off, but the empire won't be responsible for it."
I took both of the clipboards and passed one to Tovin. The two of us sat down and began going through them– and immediately, we faced a problem. They wanted first and last names, home addresses, medical history, and something called landline numbers. Tovin and I exchanged glances; this wasn't going to work.
I stood up and slowly walked back up to the counter as I looked over the document. Every time I looked, it seemed more and more ridiculous. Blood type? Social security number? Insurance provider? I didn't know what any of this meant. It might as well have been in an entirely different language.
"Did you have a question?" asked the man behind the counter.
"Yeah, I don't have most of this information," I said, setting the clipboard down on the counter. "Sorry, but we're gonna have to just go."
"Well, hang on now," he said, reaching under the little pass-through window and retrieving the clipboard. "I take it you boys are homeless then?" he asked.
"Uhh... Yeah," I answered tentatively. Did they really have such a homeless problem that he was able to jump to that conclusion so quickly? "We don't know how to answer these questions, so thanks anyways."
"I said hang on, dammit," he called through the mic before swiveling around in his chair and pulling some kind of lever underneath it that caused it to sink lower to the floor. He opened a cabinet and began rifling through it. I peered through the window at his chair– it was on some kind of ball axis that allowed him to spin in it freely. I felt like every couple of minutes I was seeing something I'd never seen before. He swiveled back around and lifted his chair back up before he handing me a new form. It was more like a strip of paper with three questions on it.
Shirt size, shoe size, and pant size.
There was a second slip of paper underneath it. I looked back up at the window attendant as Tovin appeared next to me. I handed him the slip of paper and we exchanged glances.
"The empire isn't being picky right now," spoke the man through the speaker. "You'll be assigned a number, a gun, and a uniform. You won't be eligible for emergency care, and you can't be assigned to a party. It'll be just the two of you. If you're still interested, we need all the help we can get."
I shrugged at Tovin, and he got to work filling out the information. I leaned on the counter and jotted down my uniform size before signing the waiver and handing everything back. He took both of the documents and then nodded toward the door on his right. "Come on back."
He reached under the table and did something that caused the door to make a whirring sound. It popped open on its own, and he thumbed us over to it. "Close it on your way in. Walk straight down the hall and through the third door on your left. Your hunter number is 27B and his is 28B."
We walked down the hallway and found the designated door already opened and with a sign on the inside that read, "Uniforms HERE" with an arrow pointing into the room. We were met by a portly woman with bouncy curls that hung down to her shoulders. She sat behind a desk absolutely surrounded by hanging uniforms, all kept in clear covering. She sized us up with a retractable ruler– the coolest ruler I had ever seen. After she took our measurements, she began sifting through uniforms.
"Why did they ask us for our sizes if they were going to measure us?" Tovin grumbled.
"I don't know," I whispered. "Just be quiet."
"Don't tell me to be quiet," he shot back, elbowing me in the ribs.
She turned around holding two suits by the hangers, one in each hand. "Your uniforms will come out of your first bounty collected," she announced. "No money needed upfront. Change into them and make sure they fit." We took them from her and she breezed past us. "Holler out here when you're changed." She closed the door behind her.
We turned away from one another and began getting dressed. I pulled back the crinkly clear material and looked down at the uniform. Now that I was seeing it closer, it was actually an extremely dark shade of blue, rather than black as I had thought prior. I looked down at the hat and held it in my hands. I had seen it before. Then, all at once, it came rushing back to me.
These were the uniforms of the men that had come to the mine. They had come carrying guns to inspect the worksite after what had happened to Hammer. Skully must have thought a monster had gotten to him based on the state of his body. I stared down at the uniform in disbelief. Could monsters really be running around in Diesel territory?
"You better not be looking over here," Tovin warned.
They had mistaken what Tovin had done for a monster attack. Skully's "fonekall" wasn't a pilgrimage. It was some form of long-distance communication. She reached out to the capital to request aid from someone, and they sent these guys. I began to wonder if I was making a mistake. If we could be dispatched like that, then we could feasibly be sent back to the camp.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. We were only in it for the sign-on bonus. Once we had that in our hands, we'd be outta here. We could even jump to the next town. They knew nothing about us other than our clothing size. We could be dust in the wind by tomorrow morning.
I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind and quickly got dressed. The uniform fit perfectly, it was comfortable, and best of all had been designed with a high collar. It covered our neck markings perfectly. I turned to see Tovin with the hat on already. He looked like a classic Diesel villain from a comic book I had read as a kid.
"It fits nice," he said, testing the range of motion he had in his arms. "I think this will work."
"Yeah," I nodded. "Let's get our money and get the hell out."
"Speaking my language," he smirked.
He moved for the door and leaned out, calling for the attendant. I looked at myself in the full-body mirror and did a quick turnaround. I had to admit, I looked pretty darn stylish. The white gloves, belt, and hat looked pretty good against the dark blue and gold buttons.
The woman returned and smiled at both of us, her curls bouncing as she tossed her gaze cartoonishly left and right between us. "You two look good!"
"Thanks," I smiled back. "When do we get our sign-on bonus?"
"Oh, don't worry about that just yet," she said, moving back to her desk. "Do you boys know how to shoot?" she asked as she sat down.
"Shoot?" Tovin asked.
"A gun," she clarified, her smile fading. "Have either of you shot a gun?"
"No, ma'am," I answered. "Our parents didn't let us near them growing up."
"That's no problem," she said, lifting her hands. "We're happy to teach you the basics. You'll just exit the room and go left down to the very end of the hallway. I'll buzz you through the double doors at the end, and Old Mitchell will take you from there."
Tovin audibly groaned, and I took him by the arm, leading him out of the room. We walked down the hallway as he bellyached about what a waste of time it was. It was unlike him to turn his nose up at the opportunity to learn the ins and outs of a new weapon. In fact, he'd been acting weirdly childish lately. I didn't like it. It beat dealing with Tovin-Classic, but it was still a hassle. As we neared the end of the hallway, we began hearing the sound of guns being fired one by one.
The doors buckled and hummed the same as the first door had, and we pushed them open. We passed into a large room with Diesillians shooting at targets a good distance away. This was why the building was so large and the lobby was so small. The brick walls were covered in informational and safety posters, as well as what appeared to be schematics for the weapons themselves.
I looked across the large room to see a man striding toward us. He was wearing shiny black boots that were laced tightly to his calves. His pants and jacket were hunter green, and he bore perhaps the silliest mustache I'd ever seen; It was long and curled at the tips. I had to be careful not to snicker– his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and I couldn't tell if he was watching me.
"New recruits?" he called out to us from entirely too far away.
"Yes sir," I called back. "My brother and I just signed up."
"Brothers!" he exclaimed. "I love it, dammit!" He stopped in front of us. He was chewing on something and was being as obnoxious as he possibly could about it. He was wearing perhaps the stupidest hat I had seen of the Diesel yet. It had no visible brim and was high on one side while sloping down toward the other. For the life of me, I couldn't discern the purpose of it.
"You boys know how to shoot?" he asked.
"No sir," I shook my head. "We're new at this."
"Good," he smiled widely. "That means you haven't formed any bad habits yet. I love newbies," he said before waving for us to follow him. "Come on, let's get you your rifles. I'm Mitch, but folks around here call me Old Mitchell."
"James," I said as I followed after him. "This is my brother William." It was difficult to talk over the noise of the weapons. I occasionally jumped when someone shot their gun nearby– a reflex I couldn't wait to be rid of. He led us to a small room; so small that it might as well have been a glorified safe. He disappeared inside and came back out holding two guns. The same long metal tubes Tovin and I had been attacked with at O'Malley's inn.
We each took one and promptly inspected it. Suddenly, Old Mitchell stepped forward and grabbed both of our guns by the barrel, lifting them so they were pointed at the ceiling.
"You boys ever even held one of these?" he barked. "Careful where you aim. Never point one of these at anything or anyone that you're not prepared to destroy."
"They sweep you, Mitch?" asked a man as he passed behind us.
"Pointed 'em right at me," he called back with a laugh. "We'll get 'em straightened out, don't you worry about that." He looked at us both, chewing aggressively. "Now I'm gonna let these rifles go. You keep 'em pointed up, you understand?"
"Yes, sir," I answered.
"Sure," Tovin said in a disinterested tone.
He let go of our rifles and we kept them pointed at the ceiling as we were told. I looked up and down the length of the tube before turning it over and inspecting the area under the barrel. It was split underneath with what looked like some kind of spring running along the length of the tube.
"They're not loaded," Mitch said, waving for us to follow him to the other side of the room. "But you will always treat them like they are. I'm going to show you how to load them over here. Set them down on the desk, I'm gonna stand between the two of you so I can watch you both."
I set my gun down in front of me and looked to my right. There was a box of what I presumed to be bullets. I expected them to be round pellet-like projectiles, but they were tubular with roughly textured heads on them.
"Turn your weapon over. You'll notice you can see a spring inside the bottom of the barrel. Close to the other end of your gun, you'll find a little round tab there. Take that tab and push it with your thumb all the way up toward the tip of the barrel. You'll then pop it out to the side there."
I did as he asked, and sure enough, the barrel popped out to the left at the tip of the weapon. I glanced over at Tovin who was struggling with the spring. Old Mitchell moved over and helped him with it. "Sometimes they get stuck," he muttered as he got Tovin to the same step I was at.
"Now," he shouted. "Take your ammunition right there in the box next to you, and begin placing the rounds into the underside of the barrel, flat side first. Then, you'll load more bullets into the gun overlapping one another. Be careful not to let the rounds collide with one another too heavily, or you could have a little accident."
I loaded the bullets carefully one after another until the barrel was about full. He checked on Tovin's rifle, and then inspected mine.
"Good. Now realign the barrel, there and come with me to the bay," he said, starting toward the practice range. I carefully lifted the weapon and rested it against my shoulder, turning with Tovin to follow him. When we stopped at the range, he motioned for Tovin first. "Come on, Will, we're gonna start with you."
"Pass," he said nonchalantly.
Old Mitchell blinked twice. "What?"
"I want to see Gill do it first," he said, stepping out of my way.
"It's a nickname," I said quickly, stepping up to the range. "Anyways, I'll go first, I don't mind, what do I do here?"
Mitch remained silent for a couple of seconds before clapping his hands once. "Okay! Well, go ahead and pull the hammer back."
I looked down at the weapon and then back up at him. Sensing my confusion, he carefully reached forward and pulled back a little tiny lever on the top of the rifle until it clicked. "That's called pulling the hammer back," he said. "Will, you watching this?"
He didn't wait for a response. "Next thing you're gonna do is pull that lever out underneath the gun. That's going to load the weapon with a fresh cartridge. You're gonna do that between every shot, now. Lift it up against your shoulder like this; get it snug in there." He pulled it against my shoulder. "Look down the iron sight there at the tip of the rifle and line it up against your target. Your weapon is primed and ready to fire. You're good for fifteen shots before you've got to reload. You can always flip it over to see how many bullets are left. Go ahead and aim carefully, and try and hit that target paper down there."
At the end of the range, there was a piece of paper with a silhouette of a human head, shoulders, and torso. I closed one eye for better aim and held the gun tightly as I lined up my shot.
"Don't pull the trigger," Mitch advised in my left ear. "Squeeze it. Squeeze the trigger until it doesn't move easily anymore. Then when you're sure about your aim, squeeze with just that little bit of extra strength you need."
I did as he said, and felt what he was referring to. With my target in sight, my hand steady, and my aim as true as I could hope for, I fired the weapon. The shot rang out right in my ear, but interestingly enough, it wasn't so bad when I was the one firing. I was ready for it, and expecting it.
"Holy smokes!" exclaimed Mitch. "You put one right between the eyes!"
"Beginners's luck," said a man from behind me. "I did the same thing first time I shot, and never did it again."
"Let's prove him wrong, James," Old Mitchell laughed. "Now use that lever under the gun to eject the casing and load a fresh bullet."
I pulled the lever and the shiny little bullet casing popped out the top and flew over my shoulder. It was a really satisfying feeling.
"Do I pull the hammer again? I asked.
"Nope, it'll pop back down. You'll only pull that hammer back the first time. Go ahead and fire again, only this time, aim for the neck."
"Alright," I said, closing my eye and tightening my focus. I squeezed the trigger just as I had the first time and shot a hole straight through the center of the target's neck. I lifted my head and smiled. "I hit it!"
"No way," said the man behind me. "Ain't never shot before, my ass. He's taking you for a ride, Mitch."
"You're sure you're new at this, son?" Old Mitchell asked, one eye half shut. "That's really impressive, kid. Seriously, if this is your first time holding a rifle, you might be cut out for the military. Had a staff sergeant with worse aim than you."
"Alright, alright," Tovin pushed me aside. "My turn. Let me show you something you'll never forget."
The two of us took turns shooting for hours. We hadn't even noticed the time going by. For once, it seemed Tovin had found something he wasn't naturally amazing at, and it was infuriating him to no end.
Conversely, I found something I was really, really good at. I hit my target almost every time, and to be honest, I couldn't figure out what was so difficult about it. A crowd had gathered to watch me shoot. I got really swift with the lever, and could shoot out both of a target's eyes, and put one in its forehead in a matter of seconds.
Tovin wasn't a bad shot, but I knew how he felt. If he wasn't first, he was last as far as he was concerned, and at one point he about threw his rifle. Old Mitchell had to talk to him about how some things come naturally to others, and how he shouldn't be discouraged from coming to the range and practicing.
It was rich hearing Tovin get that talk of all people. The natural genius that outshined everyone, struggling with something for the very first time. I almost couldn't believe I was better than him at something, and of course, it just had to be the thing that we'd never do again once we found our friends and went back home.
Our friends.
We were wasting time here. "Hey, Mitchel," I turned toward him. "When do we get our sign-on bonus? It was supposed to be something like 200 octims."
"You get your sign-on bonus when you bring back your first bounty," he responded quickly.
"What?" Tovin shouted. "That's not fair! We signed on, now where's our money?"
I was equally upset. We were lied to. But it made sense that they couldn't just hand us uniforms, cash, and a gun, and let us go. They wanted to make sure we at least killed a monster.
"It's fine," I said with a sigh. "Where can we find bounties?"
"It's not fine," Tovin protested.
I yanked him by the collar of his shirt and looked him in the eyes. "It's fine," I said slowly and firmly. "We'll run out, bag a monster, and be back before dark."
He held eye contact with me for several seconds before shrugging me off of him and walking away. He stormed across the bay and left through the double doors at the other end of the room.
"My brother was the same way," said Mitch. "Hard-headed. Stubborn as a mule. Loyal as anyone you'd ever meet though."
He had no idea. Tovin wasn't just difficult, but he was turning into a walking liability. I didn't know how much longer I could take him acting like this. Suddenly, Mitch extended his arm, pointing to a door adjacent to where he'd gotten our guns from.
"Bounty board is in there. Come on, I'll show you."
It was a medium-sized room with several corkboards wall to wall filled with bounties. Every monster was named and almost all of them were sketched to a professional degree. You could find how much money the monster was going for, which hunters it had killed, where it was last seen, as well as whether or not there were hunters currently after it.
They had a system where you would notate which monster you were going after, and if you didn't return, they'd add your name under the list of hunters that died searching for it. There were so many monsters I couldn't believe it, and according to Old Mitchell, these were only the monsters within a five-mile radius of Bronzegirder.
I learned the process of choosing a bounty and chose a smaller monster with no names under its fatality list. Mitch agreed it was a good monster for beginners, and offered a few pointers for tracking it. I submitted the bounty request and got it approved before leaving the bay and heading down the hall in search of Tovin. I entered the lobby and didn't see him. I left the building and found him at the top of the steps staring out into the street where a couple of vehicles were hauling something massive together under a tarp.
Several uniformed hunters were walking slowly next to the vehicles. Their uniforms were tattered and bloodstained, and a few of them walked with a limp. We watched as the exhausted men passed the building on their way down the road. Two of them were sobbing silently, but we could tell by their exposed teeth and wrinkled expressions that they'd lost someone.
From beneath the tarp, a scaly limb fell off the side of the vehicle and dangled lifelessly. It was a reptilian-looking arm with an open wound, and the shredded remnants of a uniform hanging from its claws.
"Gill," Tovin said quietly. "Is that..."
"Yeah," I answered.
"That's definitely a monster."
Writing Prompt Submitted by u/My-Last-Hope
submitted by a15minutestory to A15MinuteMythos [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 18:52 nostone3241 The connection between Freemasonry, Indian residential schools, the Indian wars, the Indian removal act, the Indian act and the Indians-as-Israelites theory.

My name is Thomas Saul, I am a member of the Skatin Nations tribe in British Columbia, Canada. I am of Salish, and European descent. I began this project around May 2021 when news broke about the Kamloops residential school where the remains of 215 children were allegedly found. As a teenager I briefly Attended Norkam secondary in Kamloops, and have friends and family who still live in Kamloops, so this hit close to home. Upon my research into The origin of this residential school I found that Israel wood Powell, a Freemason, was the Indian Superintendent at the time it was built. Four generations of my family attended residential schools, some in Port Alberni and some Mission City, so naturally I wanted to know more. I have come to the conclusion that Colonisation, Freemasonry, and residential schools go hand in hand. Its a Fact, both the United States and Canada would not exist without Freemasonry, Therefore many Freemasons played a leading role in the genocide of Indigenous Americans. “Freemasonry, as it exists in various forms all over the world, has a membership estimated at around 6 million worldwide.”
Genocide: The UN definition, which is used in international law, states that genocide is: "any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group," as such:(a) "Killing members of the group;"(b) "Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;"(c) "Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;"(d) "Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;"(e) "Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group."
The supreme governor of the Church of England is the head of the Church of England, a position which is vested in the British monarch. The father of the Royal Proclamation of 1763 King George III was not a Freemason, George III had announced that the colonies would no longer seize Native lands or purchase them without treaties. Starting in 1763, no English settlers could legally travel through or acquire land west of the Appalachian Mountains. The proclamation specifically stated that Native Americans had been subject to “great Frauds and Abuses” and that their sovereignty should be protected. Freemason Thomas Jefferson in his list of 27 grievances accused the king saying “He has excited domestic Insurrections among us, and has endeavoured to bring on the Inhabitants of our Frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known Rule of Warfare, is an undistinguished Destruction, of all Ages, Sexes, and Conditions.’’ Thomas Jefferson did this to build support for the revolutionary act that the Declaration of Independence would represent. It was suspected that the Freemasons were behind the Boston Tea Party, the American War of Independence, the french revolution, and Napoleonic France triggering British prime minister William Pitt’s, the Unlawful Societies Act of 1799 where he aimed to see Freemasonry abolished. Some Freemasons addressed Pitt explaining how vast their membership is and its connection to Royalty and As a result, Freemasons were excluded from the Act, but lodges were obliged to return a list of members to the local Clerk of the Peace every year, which are recorded in the Quarter Sessions.1. King George IV reigned from the death of George III until 1830, he was the first of many British Freemason kings and was the head of the Anglican church. William IV, Edward VII, Edward VIII, George VI were also masons. In the 209 years since the Union of the Premier and Ancient Grand Lodges to form the United Grand Lodge of England, a member of the Royal Family has been its Grand Master for more than 150.
A Freemason warrant of constitution is the Document which authorizes or gives a Warrant to certain persons therein named to organize and constitute a Lodge, Chapter, or other Masonic Body. The first Warrant for a military Lodge was issued by the Grand Lodge of Ireland in 1732 to the First British Foot Regiment. Within a few years the Grand Lodge of Scotland and both the Grand Lodge of England, Modern and Ancient were issuing Warrants to military Lodges. In 1733, 18 men gathered at the Bunch of Grapes Tavern on King Street in Boston and organized the first Masonic Lodge in North America. The first record of a military Lodge Warrant being issued in the new world happened during the French and Indian Wars. It was issued by the then Provincial Grand Master at Boston to the 28th British Foot in an expedition against the French at Crown Point. Edward Cornwallis became founder in December 1748, of a military Lodge in his regiment, the 20th. Foot, No. 63, on the registry of the Grand Lodge of Ireland. The warrant was issued to Lord George Sackville, Lieut. Col. The Hon. Edward Cornwallis and Captain Milburne. When in 1759 this famous regiment gained new honors at the battle of Minden, that name was immediately adopted as the name of the lodge. Cornwallis’ second lodge was founded in Halifax early in 1750 or possibly earlier, under a “deputation” or dispensation from Major Erasmus James Philipps of the 40th. Regiment at Annapolis Royal, Provincial Grand Master for Nova Scotia under Henry Price of Boston. Of this lodge, known as the First Lodge, Cornwallis was the first Master. Cornwallis In October 1749, issued an order that came to be known as the Scalping Proclamation. His government would pay a bounty to anyone who killed a Mi’kmaq adult or child in a bid to drive them off mainland Nova Scotia.
Sir William Johnson, an agent for the British Indian Department met Joseph Brant, a 9-year-old Mohawk boy while doing a land deal with Joseph's father King Hendrick. Sir William eventually started a common-law relationship with Joseph's sister Molly giving him incredible power over her tribe. Johnson groomed young Joseph Brant to become a loyal warrior and eventually leader of the six nations tribe. At 13 years old Joseph accompanied Johnson on his first tour with the military. Missionary Samuel Occham, a student of Eleazar Wheelock (father of The Great Awakening) procured a 19-year-old Joseph Brant to attend Moore's Indian charity school in Lebanon Connecticut with the blessings and charity of William Johnson. Freemasons Benjamin Franklin and Benedict Arnold had also donated money to Wheelock’s cause. William was the British Crown's first superintendent of Indian Affairs for the colony in 1756 and Joseph Brant was appointed as a captain in the Indian Department. Many Freemason colonists were high-ranking military who waged many wars on the Indigenous American population, scientists say so many Indigenous people were killed as a result of colonization it caused a mini ice age. After the North American wars, many Freemasons took positions as Indian agents helping to remove and segregate the native population. Anyone who wanted access to the six nations had to go through Indian agent Sir William Johnson and his family which includes the Brant family and the Kerr family through various marriages. At one point Johnson proposed that the moor's Indian Charity School move from Lebanon, Connecticut, to Johnstown but it never happened. Eventually, Johnson withdrew the support for Wheelock. In a letter Wheelock had suggested to Lord Dartmouth "The Nations will not make war with us while their Children, and especially the Children of their chiefs are with us” Dartmouth college claims that In 1766, Johnson was invited to join the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts (SPG), the largest and most influential Anglican missionary society in the 18th-century British-Atlantic world. He began working to place Anglican missionaries like Freemason and bishop Charles Inglis, rather than Congregationalist and Presbyterian ones, among the Six Nations. I believe Moore's dubbed “the great design” was the original model for the Mohawk Institute and the Canadian residential school system.
On April 10, 1766 Sir William Johnson was raised to the position of Master Mason of St Patrick's Lodge No. 4 where many Freemason Indian agents like John Butler, Guy Johnson, Sir John Johnson, William Johnson Kerr, Christian Daniel Claus, Gilbert Tice, George Croghan and A protégé of Reverend Eleazar Wheelock, Rev. Samuel Kirkland attended. In 1770 Johnson's fellow St Patrick's lodge Freemason Rev. Samuel Kirkland coincidentally parted ways with Wheelock and Moors charity school. Eventually Kirkland founded the Hamilton-Oneida Academy as a boys' school in central New York. In 1776 Joseph Brant was initiated into the Freemason fraternity in London England where it is rumoured a benefactor of Moors charity school king George III gave Brant his masonic apron. When Brant returned to Canada he became affiliated with Lodge No. 11 at the Mohawk village on the Grand River, of which he was the first Worshipful Master, and later affiliated with Barton Lodge No. 10. Joseph Brant invited fellow Freemason and grandson of Eleazar Wheelock to be a minister to the Mohawk. To Joseph It was imperative that Freemason Rev. Davenport Phelps was made minister of the Mohawks, so he reminded the Bishop, through Sir John, of the pledge which the Archbishop of Canterbury had made to him in the presence of the King, that whenever the Indians, by the erection of a church, should be ready for religious instruction, he would do all in his power to supply their wants. A Freemason named Rev. Robert Addison helped make this happen. Mr Addison, a relative of William Johnson, had been minister to the Six Nations and Joseph Brant and Freemason John Norton were his translators. Freemason Reverend Davenport Phelps and Jarvis Wheelock, the brother of Eleazar, were invited to Canada and granted land by Freemason and founder of the family compact John Graves Simcoe, the man behind the Simcoe patent. Mrs Simcoe in her Diary says, “In April of the following year Mary Brant (sister of Freemason Joseph Brant and common-law wife of Freemason Indian agent Sir William Johnson) successfully prescribed a favourite Indian remedy, the root of sweet flag (acorus calamus), for Governor Simcoe, who had been extremely ill with a persistent cough. The medicine relieved his malady “in a very short time. This brought the Brant family and Simcoe family close together. Davenport Phelps became the Worshipful Master of The Barton Lodge under Freemason William Jarvis and he was the first chaplain at the Mohawk Chapel. Davenport was the leader of many Indian agents who were members of The Barton Lodge. I suspect Davenport's mission was to help with the so-called Indian problem.
Chief Joseph Brant has been accused on many occasions of selling off land for his own enrichment and in a lot of cases he sold land to Freemasons. He granted 999-year leases to many families, the Nelles, the Young’s, the families of Adam Young UE, his three sons, Lieutenant John Young (Indian department) UE, Sergeant Daniel Young UE, and Private Henry Young UE, along with Captain Henry William Nelles UE and his families (Rev. Abraham Nelles). Many of these Indian agents were members of The Barton Lodge. Both Captain Henry William Nelles UE and Adam Young UE, fourth great-grandfather of Robert Collins McBride UE, were also the first Freemasons to settle in Haldimand County. Freemasons Robert Kerr and Rev. Robert Addison, William Kennedy Smith, also had land there. "There were very few outright legal sales of our land; 90 per cent of the leased land has never been paid for or paid to Six Nations," according to a research document prepared by Six Nations. Many Freemasons were involved with the Simcoe patent and the Haldimand Proclamation. Lieutenant Governor John Graves Simcoe stated that the Indians could not lease their land since British subjects could lease land only from British subjects. Freemason William Jarvis signed the Haldimand proclamation, Freemason Thomas Ridout surveyor-general was behind the Ridout survey, Freemason Sir Peregrine Maitland lieutenant governor informed them that they had no title to the northern part of the grant, Freemason John Butler acted as an agent of purchase on behalf of the government, Freemason chief John Brant) and Freemason Robert Johnson Kerr finally went to England to lobby on behalf of the Six Nations.
Freemasons King George IV, and King William IV, reigned from January 29 1820 to June 20 1837. The idea of residential school was brought forward by the Freemason Governor of Upper Canada, Sir Peregrine Maitland, within the context of a proposal he made in 1820 to the Colonial Office "for ameliorating the condition of the Indians in the neighbourhood of our settlements." Maitland's proposal contained most of the civilising concepts and techniques that would be adopted in the next three decades. The American Freemason, President Andrew Jackson succeeded in pushing the Indian Removal Act through the United States Congress in 1828 leading to the trail of tears. John Brant solicited help from the New England company to build the Mohawk institute, the first residential school in Canada. The mohawk institute operated from 1831 to June 27, 1970. John Brant appointed Rev. Abraham Nelles son of Freemason Robert Nelles as principal of the Mohawk Institute. Abraham after over 30 years was succeeded by Freemason Robert Ashton. Oronhyatekha aka Peter Martin was also a Freemason and played an important role in the development of the Mohawk Institute. The Arthur of the Historical sketch of the Barton Lodge, No. 6, G.R.C., A.F. and A.M., says “the name of Brother John Brant is connected with important events in the history of Canadian Masonry.” John Brant is responsible for the formation of at least 12 residential schools in Ontario, while Freemason Israel Powell the superintendent of Indian affairs in British Columbia Powell “was able to boast that the government had established seventeen Indian schools, one for each year in office.”. Powell sought to establish several boarding schools across the province and particularly pushed for creating a school in Kamloops to address communities in the province’s interior.The school opened in Kamloops in 1890 and became one of the largest residential schools operated by Indian Affairs. The Freemason Organisation is vicariously liable for all abuses in those residential schools.
In 1837 a Rebellion in Upper Canada was led by William Lyon Mackenzie, who was a fierce critic of Simcoe’s Family Compact, an elite clique of businessmen and many Freemasons. Mackenzie opposed a system of land grants that favored settlers from Britain. Many Freemasons such as William Botsford Jarvis and Sir Allen Napier Macnab who was Joint premier of the Province of Canada helped stop this rebellion. Sir Allen Macnab was succeeded by Freemason Sir John A. Macdonald as Joint Premier. This Rebellion of 1837, this triggered the 6th generation Freemason Lord Durham to write The Durham Report, he was appointed governor in chief of British North America. In his 1839 Report on the Affairs of British North America, he recommended that Upper and Lower Canada be united under a single Parliament, with responsible government. In 1863 a steamboat named the Brother Johnathan) carried smallpox from San Francisco to British Columbia killing 1/3rd of the Native population. Many Freemasons like Thomas Harris the first mayor of Victoria, Israel Wood Powell who served in the Victoria Rifle Volunteer Corps which was established to protect the colony from the indigenous population, Amor De Cosmos who was the extremely racist editor of The Daily British Colonist, and Ronald J. NcDonell clerk for magistrate Pemberton who forced The Nuu-chah-nulth to leave their camp, escorted by two gunboats. There are many many more who may have purposefully mishandled the smallpox epidemic of 1863. British freemason Edward Jenner created the life-saving smallpox vaccine but on the other hand Freemasons Jeffrey Amherst and Col Henry Bouquet have been accused of distributing smallpox contaminated blankets to their enemies.
As early as 1866 Israel W. Powell, with his colleague Amor De Cosmos, had proposed confederation with the Canadian colonies. Israel Wood Powell, Superintendent of Indian affairs also outlawed potlatching an indigenous ceremony In British Columbia. Following the Lord Durham’s report, Freemason Henry Howard Molyneux Herbert, 4th Earl of Carnarvon proposed The British North America Act, 1867 Under section 91(24) of the Constitution Act, 1867, the federal government has exclusive legislative authority for "Indians, and Lands reserved for the Indians." Of the 36 Fathers of the Canadian confederation, 11 were Freemasons. One being Freemason Sir John A. Macdonald, He was named by the United Grand Lodge of England as their Grand Representative near to the Grand Lodge of Canada. Sir John A. Macdonald took a page from American Freemason Andrew Jackson's book by removing the Indigenous people from their land. He was proud that he was able to subdue the Indigenous people with less blood shed than his American brethren. One Of Macdonald's Legacies is the Canadian Pacific Railway which displaced many tribes across Canada. Sir John A. Macdonald's campaign promise in the 1870s was that he would have a railway built that would link the country from coast to coast. Freemasons Richard Marpole, Sir Sandford Fleming, Sir George J.A. Bury And the Chinese Freemasons of Vancouver and Alberta made Macdonald’s promise come true. As quickly as the railroad was laid Freemason lodges were erected. Louis Riel a Métis hero, led two resistance movements against the Government of Canada and its Freemason Prime Minister, John A. Macdonald. Riel sought to defend Métis rights and identity. The Wolseley expedition was a military force authorized by Sir John A. Macdonald to confront Louis Riel and had been dispatched to Red River under Freemason Colonel Garnet Joseph Wolseley. Another of Mcdonald's legacies is the North West Mounted Police. Macdonald established the N.W.M.P in 1873 which boasted 750 Freemason members in its time. He claimed that “it was intended to have a body of mounted rifles to protect the people from the chance of an Indian war.’’ Meanwhile, The Pacific Scandal, the first major post-Confederation political scandal in Canada, Sir John Macdonald and senior members of his Conservative Cabinet were accused of accepting election funds for the contract to build the C.P rail.
The near completion of the railway allowed troops from eastern Canada to quickly arrive in the territory causing Riel to surrender to Canadian forces. The NWMP barracks was where Louis Riel was detained after his arrest in 1885 for leading the North-West Rebellion. Many Freemasons were involved in the defeat of Louis Riel. The RCMP museum had a display of the noose which hung Riel. Macdonald said this about Riel "He shall die though every dog in Quebec barks in his favor." John A. Macdonald is also one of the fathers of the Canadian Indian act First passed in 1876. In 1879 Freemason Nicholas Flood Davin wrote the Report on Industrial Schools for Indians and Half-Breeds, otherwise known as The Davin Report. An amendment to the Indian Act in 1894 under Freemason Prime Minister Sir Mackenzie Bowell, made attendance at day schools, industrial schools, or residential schools compulsory for First Nations children, resulting in over 100000 Indigenous children being forcefully removed from their families by Indian agents and the RCMP. From 1740 to 1896 The Mexican government's response to the various uprisings of the Yaqui tribe have been likened to genocide particularly under Freemason Porfirio Diaz. Due to slavery and massacre, the population of the Yaqui tribe in Mexico was reduced from 30,000 to 7,000 under Diaz's rule. One source estimates at least 20,000 out of these Yaquis were victims of state murders in Sonora. It was during this period of the conflict that the United States Army fought the last battle of the American Indian Wars, the final battle being the Wounded Knee Massacre December 29, 1890, and in the subsequent Drexel Mission Fight the next day. In recent history the statues of Freemason John A. Macdonald, Freemason Edward Cornwallis, Freemason George Washington, Freemason Lawrence Sullivan Ross, Freemason Robert E. Lee and Andrew Jackson have all been vandalized but no mention of their affiliation to the Freemasons in the news. We can't point fingers at the church or government without first confirming whether or not the accused are Freemasons. The Order of the Eastern Star, Job's Daughters, and Rainbow Girls are masonic fraternities for women such as the daughter, widow, wife, sister, or mother of a Master Mason. All masons will cry out that Freemasonry has nothing to do with what an individual member has done, yet they all praise these men and prop them up as heroes. Freemasons claim to have superior morality compared to the average person, that they are the most honorable men on the planet, yet they refuse to acknowledge their members role in the genocide of the Indigenous Americans.
You may believe Freemasons are irrelevant nowadays but that is far from true. Winston Churchill is regarded as one of the greatest wartime leaders of the 20th century. Churchill was initiated into Studholme Lodge No. 1591 on 24 May 1901. He said of the Pashtun people “all who resist will be killed without quarter,” Pashtun territory was occupied by the British in 1848 and divided into two areas. Winston Churchill's policies caused a famine that claimed more than 3 million Indian lives during the The Bengal famine of 1943. President Harry Truman, known as one of the most dedicated men to have joined Masonry on the morning of August 6, 1945, ordered an American B-29 bomber to drop two atomic bombs over the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The two bombings killed between 129,000 and 226,000 people, most of whom were civilians. John Edgar Hoover, more commonly referred to as J. Edgar Hoover, was an American attorney and director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) Hoover was raised on November 9th 1920 in Federal Lodge No. 1 in Washington D.C. In 1919 Hoover became the head of the Bureau of Investigation's (predecessor of the FBI) new General Intelligence Division. The division was also called the Radical Division because it was the task of the division to find radical elements in American society to monitor and disrupt their activities. The Duke of Kent was initiated as a Freemason in Royal Alpha Lodge No. 16 in London on 16 December 1963. The Duke of Kent, is now UGLE’s longest-serving Grand Master. The Duke’s brother, Prince Michael of Kent, is also a Freemason and is Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Mark Master Masons, and Provincial Grand Master of the Provincial Grand Lodge of Middlesex. On 6 March 1953, HRH Prince Philip progressed to the Second Degree of Freemasonry, before advancing to the Third Degree on 4 May 1953.
I encourage those who have been affected by the actions of Freemasons to begin a class action lawsuit against this organization in what ever country, state or province you live in and hold Freemasonry accountable for genocide. The first thing a Freemason will say when presented with this evidence is you don't know how masonry operates, that the lodge is not responsible for individual members actions. That is exactly what the Catholic church said before the Canadian Court of Appeal on July 28, 2020 had found the Archdiocese vicariously liable for abuses committed by a civilian employee. I witnessed countless people stand up against the Catholic Church for what they have done and the Pope came to Canada and apologized. Now it's time to turn your sight toward Freemasonry. You must understand that all Freemasons on the American contenent have greatly benefited from the genocide of Indigenous Americans.
“ Prime Minister Justin Trudeau's acceptance of an inquiry's finding that Canada committed genocide against Indigenous people could have tremendous legal impact if a court ever weighs Ottawa's responsibility for crimes against humanity, experts say.”
https://www.ctvnews.ca/canada/trudeau-s-acknowledgment-of-indigenous-genocide-could-have-legal-impacts-experts-1.5457668
"I didn't use the word genocide because it didn't come to mind but I described genocide," Pope Francis told reporters on the papal flight from Iqaluit to Rome on Friday.
https://www.cbc.ca/news/indigenous/pope-francis-residential-schools-genocide-1.6537203
“The very word "secrecy" is repugnant in a free and open society; and we are as a people inherently and historically opposed to secret societies, to secret oaths, and to secret proceedings. We decided long ago that the dangers of excessive and unwarranted concealment of pertinent facts far outweighed the dangers which are cited to justify it.”
President John F. Kennedy
“President Kennedy issued an Executive Order prohibiting use of facilities on military bases by groups not integrated. The result was to bar Masonic lodges from using the bases.” Masonic Parallels with History - A Chronology of General and Masonic History by Alphonse Cerza. themasonictrowel
THE MILITARY AND FREEMASONRY
Freemasonry in Nova Scotia
Freemasonry at the Two Sieges of Louisbourg 1745 and 1758
Freemasonry in Quebec
Sir William Johnson, the Brant family, the Kerr family and the British Indian Department
MOOR’S INDIAN CHARITY SCHOOL
Mohawk Institute (Mush Hole)
The rebellion of 1837
Manitoba Freemasons
Saskatchewan Freemasons
North-West Rebellion
Provincial Premiers Alberta masons
The Canadian Pacific Railway
Smallpox epidemic of 1862
British Columbia Freemasons
Freemason Prime Ministers
American Freemasons and the genocide of the
Indigenous peoples.
Spanish Freemasons
Royal Freemasons
300 Years of Freemasonry Celebrated at Royal Albert Hall Global Event
Freemasonry according to Masons.
The Fourth Council of Toledo Canon 60 and Indian Residential Schools
Sources
https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vQ4QiANX3BnEdEwD94FXfh1Nkg_RJ-XN5UhN0_gLX10isR2i08xUziA9ZX7sErUMdp4PTKKPhP0P7F2/pub#h.fpjzhjnusgk1
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2023.03.21 18:32 Aggravating_Bench_41 An Entitled Woman Tries to Throw Me Out of A Train Cab: I Was Doing My Job.

An Entitled Woman Tries to Throw Me Out of A Train Cab: I Was Doing My Job.
So this happened a year ago, and sharing it would be interesting. For some background in a previous post, I stated how I work with coyotes, which is true, but when I'm not working with wild animals, I lend my services out of state for a Pennsylvanian Regional Railroad known as the Reading Blue Mountain & Northern as a brakeman/fireman. Now how was I able to do this (I was 18 at the time). I have connections there with the President and Founder of the Railroad so I spent most of 2022 working part-time for the Iron Horse Rambles with Reading 2102, and the most notable the Iron Horse Rambles Doubleheader with Reading 425 (locally known as the Blue Beauty). Also just for common knowledge, steam locomotives run with 4 crew members. The engineer, the Fireman, The Brakeman, and the Conductor. The brakeman often works as a secondary fireman to let the main fireman rest, but the brakeman and Conductor work as seekers to help let the engineer know what's ahead. With all of that out of the way, let me wind the clock back to September 20, 2022.
For the most part, the doubleheader went smoothly. I was assigned to work on the 425 steam engine and the run itself is about a 2.5-hour round trip each way, but its anything but relaxing, but the joy you get as you roar through towns and get the attention of railfans is indescribable. So the ride up to the terminating station was smooth sailing, and I go through the safety procedures to get the train turned around so both engines could reverse into the station (note the train consist was 20 passenger cars) so it took a good while but eventually, the train stops at the station so the 2102 and 425 could uncouple and be on temporary display and open for cab tours. I was in charge of giving the tours on the 425 and for the most part, every railfan was super happy to see me and I allowed them to ring the bell and blow the whistle until Karen and her demon spawn child climb up into the cab.
As usual, I was being my polite self and giving details and stats about the engine. I told them the top speed of the engine, when it was built, how it came into ownership of the Reading and Northern, and how this engine was due for a boiler inspection. I was about to allow her kid to blow the whistle until I looked at the pressure gauge and it read 200psi (it needed to be around 240psi), so I grab the shovel and politely ask the mother to give me a second so I could shovel the coal, and just as I step on the lever that opens the firebox door and as I shovel away I noticed the kid reaching his hand out towards the open firebox. Instantly my protective sibling side came out.
Me: What on earth do you think you are doing?! Do you know how dangerous that can be?!
Child: Momma! That mean man won't let me touch the boiler!
Karen: Excuse me sir why won't you let my angel touch-"
The Karen stopped shocked to see me covered in soot.
Me: Is there a problem?
Karen: Your just a teenager, how the hell did a filthy n-word teen like you get to drive this engine? I don't think you are old enough to operate it.
Me: Ma'am I'm of the legal age to work in the cab, but I'm also obligated to ensure the safety of those who tour it. Your son could've received 3rd-degree burns from touching the metal on the boiler, so for that reason please leave before you are charged with trespassing on Railroad property.
The Karen Shrieked: NO YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S TRESPASSING NOW GET OFF!
The Karen grabbed me by my overalls and tries to throw me out of the cab. Now I gripped the railing on the outside because if she had succeeded I would've fallen 15ft on my back onto a railroad track rail which could cause serious injury. Luckily my saving grace would be that the local tourist train was just returning, and police were called onto the scene and the Karen was arrested and charged with battery and assault. All the while the kid was crying, but he eventually calmed down and apologized for causing a whole problem and that he should've known better.
After that, I asked the kid if he had someone else besides his mother and he said that his dad was waiting for him and his mom back in the place the trip started, so after speaking with the crew members, who collectively agreed to forgive the kid, we wanted to cheer him up, so we called the dad and filled him in on the situation, and he said that he would be on his way, but we assured him that he can stay there and that his son didn't know any better so for the return trip he was allowed to ride in the cab of 2102. The kid screamed out in excitement, and for the return trip he was laughing out of joy, and once we got to the shops to uncouple the engine, the kid met up with his dad, and both of them had to drive up to the town where the kid's mother was arrested. I didn't press charges since technically I was a volunteer, so I let the company deal with the whole situation.
(Also for reference of the two engines here, they are).
This is the Blue Beauty

And this is the T-Hog

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2023.03.21 18:01 Festovious Void Runners 9

Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for his amazing worldbuilding.
[First]-[Previous]-[Next]
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Sorry for the delay, I was again busy with a university project. Woe be upon me for I forgot the NOP: in the title.
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Memory transcription subject: Ryan West, Runner Date [standardized human time]: November 25th, 2136.
It’s hard to tell if you’re moving in space. If there’s no close point of reference it can feel like you’re motionless. The engines run at quarter capacity to lower our heat signature. Even with our target, the green, barren moon of Turadus, in sight I can’t tell if we’re approaching or slowly drifting away. I sink into my seat and close my eyes, a bit tired.
“Would the Nevok actually attack the ship if they detected it?” I ask Tsanma as she manually pilots the ship.
“No, it’s very unlikely they’d take any direct action, especially against a cargo ship. But the intel the Countess can provide will be more useful if the Imperium is unaware that we possess it.”
“I see.” I say halfheartedly. I open my eyes again and the moon seems to have gotten a bit closer.
***
The station comes into view, various metal structures and domes poked from the green rock. The surface of the moon was very jagged, like an emerald badland. I make sure I’m out of view of the camera as Tsanma hails the station. The visage of a masked Nevok appears.
“Hello Compact representative, you are clear to land at bay two.” Tsanma dips her head in response and the feed cuts as quickly as it started.
I head to the back of the ship, I’ll be waiting in the bunks until we leave. We’ve done nothing but stare at a slowly approaching moon for nearly half a day. It's been the most exhausting part of the job so far.
Memory transcription subject: Reossa, Nevok Imperium Countess Date [standardized human time]: November 25th, 2136.
“Oh Lady,” Maylak is on the verge of tears, “must you leave? The estate is so safe.” She holds my bag for me as we walk to the landing bay; she’s not been taking it well.
“The plot came directly from the capital Maylak, it’s safe for now, but it’s only a matter of time before the Imperium sends someone here. Then none of you will be safe.” A small entourage of my personal servants has conglomerated in the steel halls as I walk. Most have taken the news with somber acceptance, but Maylak has been my chambermaid since she was a kitten.
I push through the doors to the bay, the small crowd stopping at the doors. Some cry their final goodbye, some just stand in silence. I see the fissan standing at the top of a small landing platform, she must be the captain. I grab my bag from Maylak who whines and holds it for a moment longer than she should have, I walk towards the ship. As I approach, the fissan dips her head in greeting.
“Hello Lady Roessa, I am Tsanma, a representative of the Fissan Compact.” She says with the flat tone of one who’s recited the phrase a thousand times before.
“Hello Tsanma, I hope my background doesn’t invoke any hostility between us.” I’d weighed my options of who to go to for a long time. In the end the Fissans were the closest, and obviously had a great deal to gain from my cooperation.
“Nonsense, the Compact is always open to those willing to do business.” I almost instinctively voice an objection to the statement. No point in wasting breath defending an empire that wants me dead.
“Alright, please, show me where I’ll be-” I’m cut off by a cry from Maylak, she runs towards me, jumping over a guard who tries to stop her.
“Please Lady, I need to come with you,” she grabs onto one of my paws with both of her own. I’m shocked she’d go this far. I look over to Tsanma pleadingly.
“She can come, we have enough room for the both of you.” she says. I sigh, it had taken a lot of mental preparation for what I thought would be the rest of life servantless, what a waste.
“Then I suppose,” I look to Maylak, “you can come.” she signals joy with her tail. She quickly sprints back into the crowd of servants by the door, and comes back holding her own bag.
“My Lady, you won’t regret it.” She says, holding the small bag.
“You seem prepared.” I give, she holds her ears down in shame though her tail still says joy.
“A very touching scene, but please hurry, we have a schedule to meet.” Tsanma says as she walks back into the ship. Maylak and I follow her in. “I’ll go over everything once we’re voidborne, for now please just sit down.” She mans the ship and the engines begin to lightly rumble. The rumbling quickly eases as we leave the artificial gravity of the station. Tsanma activates auto-pilot and the ship begins a very slow ascent from the moon’s green surface.
“I can’t help but notice the lack of personnel. Where is everyone?” I ask.
“We keep our cargo ship crew light. I’m knowledgeable enough in ship maintenance that a dedicated mechanic is unnecessary. Though currently we have an exceptionally low crew.”
“Who else is there?” Maylak asks.
“Besides myself we have a single security contractor on board. I’ll show you around the ship.” Tsanma walks out of the cockpit, pointing to the various rooms of the ship.
Only two crewmembers? I consider as she points to a closed door,
“This is the dorm room you’ll be staying in.” She doesn’t open the door and continues the small tour. After a short time we’re back in the cockpit. “I hope you find the ship acceptable for our short journey.” She sits in the pilot seat and deactivates the auto-pilot.
“I’ll go prepare your quarters my Lady.” Maylak says as she walks out. Half a second later Tsanma turns back to her,
“Wait!” she says, the slight delay of the translators stopped the words from reaching her before she left the cockpit. Tsanma sighs, but just looks forward in her seat.
“What’s the matter? I presume the security guard was in the room but I’m certain Maylak won’t disturb them.”
“That’s not exactly the issue.” she says.
“Well what’s-” I hear a scream come from the back of the ship, my ears shoot up in alert. “Maylak!?” I run out of the cockpit, I hear a loud deep voice yell,
“Fuck, OW!” I almost run into Maylak as she comes sprinting out of the dorms.
“LADY IT- THERE- A- AH-” She speaks erratically, placing a hand on my shoulder. A large body comes from the door, a clawless hand rubs its face as it groans. Maylak scurries behind me. The being is without fur save a long patch that comes from its head to its back, unfamiliar clothes cover most of its body. A single piercing eye peaks through it’s hand.
“Ah, you must be the Countess, and…”, it looks between Maylak and I. Neither of us say anything for a few long moments.
“Are you a human?” I ask. It removes it’s hand from it’s face, revealing it’s second forward facing eye. The gaze is nearly paralyzing, but I maintain my composure.
“Tsanma didn’t explain to you? I’m the security detail.” I feel Maylak release her paw from my shoulder as she slumps to the ground, unconscious.
“A fine mess you’ve made Ryan, and in only a few minutes since we’ve left.” Tsanma’s voice comes from behind me.
“I hardly see how this is my fault.” He says as he walks towards Maylak, he stops right before he’s upon me and says, “Ah, I’m just going to lay her on one of the beds. Also, who is who?” He carefully grabs Maylak under her legs and neck. The sight of the predator holding her shoots fear through me. The only thing keeping me calm is the assurance that the Compact wouldn’t bring a predator if it was a danger to me. I repeated this fact through my head like a mantra.
“The one who didn’t faint is the Countess, Reossa.” Tsanma answers for me, “The one you hold is one of her servants.” The man, Ryan was his name? He looks at Maylak as he listens to Tsanma.
“I see, well if she wakes up in my arms she’ll probably have a heart attack.” He walks into the dorms. I feel my heart rate lower as he leaves my sight. I turn to Tsanma,
“Why a human?” A much more direct question than I hoped for, but the stress made it come out.
“Various reasons, chiefly their intimidation factor. The strength is certainly another qualifier.” She says as if it weren’t a mad calculation. A moment later Ryan comes back from the dorms.
“Also, I’m a really good dancer.” Ryan adds. Tsanma lowers her horn slightly towards him.
“We will not discuss that event in the presence of the Countess.” she says sternly, causing Ryan to give a small, rhythmic growl.
“Anyways, I’m a bit hungry,” he checks his holopad, “I’m eating.” He walks into the kitchen and Tsanma returns to the cockpit. He’s eating? What would he eat? Images of the human tearing into dead flesh made me sick, but a morbid curiosity consumed me.
Certainly they wouldn’t keep flesh on the ship. I peek into the kitchen and see Ryan procuring various tools. He flips a switch on the counter, and a small flame raises from a burner.
“You need something,” he pauses for a moment, considering his words, “countess?” He says unsure, “Sorry I’m not sure what would be an appropriate way to address you.”
“Just Reossa is fine.” I say, I don’t want to make the predator see me as above him, a contender for dominance. “But no, I’m just curious.”
“About?” He procures a small bag from the refrigerator and I sit in a metal chair.
“What you’re making.” I don’t know where the bravado to risk a glimpse of dead flesh came from.
“Oh, I’m making stir fry,” he dumps a small amount of oil into the pan, fat oils? I shutter slightly. “It’s like, well actually the name says it all, basically you put anything in a pan and stir it as it cooks. Though I don’t have a wok so it’s a bit hard.” he tears open the bag and a large amount of mixed Fissan vegetables falls into the pan. “I’m not sure what most of these are called actually. Tsanma keeps on telling me but I never eat any of them separate from the rest. Er, I guess I know the white beans are called urag beans, but that’s it.”
“And that’s all you’re having?” I ask
“Oh, you’re right, I’m missing something.” he returns to the fridge and my heart rate spikes, he must’ve forgotten the flesh. He pulls out a small opaque jar. He returns to the burner and opens the jar, he puts a spoon in and out, a small glob of black goo comes with it. He flicks the substance into the pan.
“What is that?” My eyes are wide, congealed blood?
“Uh, some sort of bean sauce, It’s a bit sweet, I don’t remember what it’s called though.”
“You’re not eating,” I shrink in the seat, “flesh?” I add quietly. He pauses, continuing to stir in the pan. He says nothing for a few moments.
“I know you probably think Tsanma is crazy or whatever for having a predator on board. But it’s not like she’s emotionless, eh? Please don’t go lookin’ at her like you do at me, she wouldn’t keep meat on the ship.” I was relieved for a moment before realizing the implication; he’d keep meat on the ship if he could, it’s merely not allowed. Neither of us speak for a moment.
“Well!” He says suddenly, “Want to try some when it’s done?” He asks. I consider the proposition, I saw everything he added, none of it seemed poisoned or from a living being. I quickly recall the oil he put in,
“What type of oil was that?”
“I don’t know, something fissan probably, Tsanma just called it ‘oil’.”
“Then, I will accept.” We sit in silence for a while until he declares the food ready, he walks towards a small cabinet with securely held bowls and plates. He grabs two bowls and fills them, he places one in front of me and sits across the table.
“I feel a bit bad, I gave you almost half of what I got but,” his eyes run up my body, “you’re about half my size though, so I guess it works out. I hope it’s up to your standards.” He quickly starts eating, when his mouth opens, the slightly lustrous, dulled ends of canines flash into sight. I find my attention drawn to his mouth every time it opens. I take a scoop of the food, various vegetables sit on the spoon, wilted from the heat. I put the spoon in my mouth.
“It’s alright. For someone who doesn’t know what they’re cooking, you did well.” He quickly finishes his food before I’m done half of my own.
“Alright, I’ll be with Tsanma, when you’re done we need to go over sleeping schedules.” I swish my tail to signify I understood, he seems to get what I mean, and leaves.
I slowly eat the rest of the food and look around. The internal design of the fissan ship is unfamiliar to me. I can’t name the food I’m eating. I’m on a ship with a predator. How long had it been since I had felt anything akin to this instability? I feel rootless, lost, betrayed by my nation for reasons completely unknown to me. With the fear of the predator subsiding, I realize it wasn’t the worst of what I felt. Perhaps this is why I stayed and watched him. I wish he was back so I could replace this feeling with fear and detest. I put another spoonful of the food into my mouth. I close my eyes as I chew— a tear falls into the bowl. I had lied; the food was amazing.
Memory transcription subject: Nittal, Takkan Mercenary Date [standardized human time]: November 25th, 2136.
I rhythmically tap a claw on the dashboard of the ship. The Imperium requested we give them the ship’s landing location, the fact that it had landed on the moon was supposedly a big deal. I wasn’t happy to be kept waiting after tailing the fissan ship manually, in real space for such a long time. Suddenly the ship is hailed from Turadus, Laz quickly answers the call. The visage of our contractor appears on screen.
“Hello, the deal is being updated,” I almost yell an objection before he continues, “we’re increasing your pay,” typically the ‘deal being updated’ was code for ‘we’re screwing you’, I quickly calm down “There’s a nevok that was picked up by the fissan ship, we want you to kill her. If you can confirm her death there’s another hundred thousand credits in the deal.”
“We will gladly take that update.” I give.
“Great. Since the ship took such great lengths to avoid detection from the colony, they’ll no doubt be doing the same while leaving. You’ll have plenty of time to intercept them on their path. Do not fail us.” The feed cuts, always so direct these people, but I wasn’t complaining.
The ship is currently resting in a small crevice on the surface of Turadus’ moon. For a bit the ship had been visible with the naked eye. I resist the urge to merely gun the ship down, we’d have to dock in order to capture the fissan agent. That means waiting until they were out of the moon's gravity well. Laz sits in the seat watching the radar, those stimulants were a godsend, neither of us were a bit tired. If anything I felt excited, dangerously so. By the great dissolution, this mission will be a test of will more so than anything.
submitted by Festovious to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 17:24 EntertainmentNew7012 Magpul MBUS, or MBUS 3?

I’m looking to get a nice pair of flip up irons. I seen magpul released a new version of the mbus but when I talked to my local gun guy about it he explained they have a mounting issue. Like they don’t wanna mount to the rail. If you guys could give me any feedback or any other recommendations that would be great.
submitted by EntertainmentNew7012 to tacticalgear [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 17:24 G-Piggie [WTS][ON] VFC GBBR Custom MFR Build, Misc Parts, Radian Raptor SL

Located downtown Toronto in the entertainment district or shipping is available.

https://imgur.com/a/qXrrFIP
VFC GBBR $900
Mint condition, only build up as a wall hanger. Will come with a 416 ambi fire selector. Suppressor included at asking price.
Build List:

Some extra parts that never made it onto builds.
https://imgur.com/a/Tjpbph1
Radian Raptor SL Charging Handle $150
Tan EMG Stock $20
VFC Crane Stock $10
RS SL-K $30
Real Steel Mil-Spec Buffer Tube $40
Repro TAPS Dual Pressure Pad $40
VFC Steel Crusader lightning flat trigger ON HOLD
Repro Daniel Defense MFR 7" Handguard $60
Magpul MVG $30
PTS Vertical Grip $20
Strike Industries AEG Trigger $20
WE Glock 19/45 Barrel $10
SAI Glock 17 Barrel $40
VFC SCAR Rear Iron Sight $20
Smith Optics Boogie Regulator $40
submitted by G-Piggie to airsoftmarketcanada [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 17:22 NewOnTheIsland Help me pick my first AR

Hey everyone, sorry to be that guy, but I've read several dozen threads by now and am having a bit of info overload as I try to pick my first rifle
Don't worry, I'll try to be specific.
I have 4 candidates in mind; I'll briefly list the rifles and my thoughts on them below
First some info:
Budget:
~$1000 give or take 100. All the rifles I've picked are more or less in this range
Use case:
As the first I'll own myself, but far from the first I've shot, I want a solid semi-all arounder that is biased towards target shooting
I shoot Indoors through the winter at relatively shorter ranges and do medium to semi long ranges in the summer
Further, as far as customizations, I fully intended to add on the the rifle over time, even as far as getting a while new upper later on, I just want a solid foundation to get started
Preferences:
As will be seen by the rifles listed, I do not like the traditional fixed front post and prefer full barrel mlok hand guards
I tend to favor 18in barrels, rifle length gas, and 1:8 twist rate; as that is the best configuration for a target gun that can still general use to my knowledge
Accessories:
I prefer magpul MOE furniture, flip up irons, and some kind of optic (slight scope preference).
One rifle comes with one included, so that's a plus for it
Otherwise, I'll likely just put an angled grip and/or bipod on the lower
Ammo:
I'll likely just buy ammo for the rifle, not vice versa
This is just here to say that steel ammo is a plus, but seldom used, so not a huge deal breaker
Now, the rifles:
I. Ruger 556 mpr 18"
Pros:
Fits most of what I want
Good blank slate
Competitive price
Heard it has a good trigger
I like ruger
Cons:
Heard of some QA issues in older threads
Issues with steel ammo (if I ever use it)
II. BCM upper with PSA/aero completed lower
Pros:
This sub seems in love with this combo
Great reputation
I like the no logo of the psa lower
Also fits most of what I want
Also competitive cost
BCM sale going on with free BCG
Cons:
I know this is heresy, but I do struggle with the thought of building one rn. I hear everyone sing the praises of BCM, but I struggle to comprehend exactly what makes it so much better to make it worth the effort
Gotta go through an FFL transfer
Unfamiliar with the brands
Gotta wait for shipping
PSA may take a bit rn
III. Sig m400 tread (current top choice)
Pros:
Great reputation for this company
Similar appeal to the ruger
Feels a bit nicer than the ruger overall, but similar price
Comes with basically free sig scope that I like
Suppressor ready muzzle break (may be relevant in the future)
Cons:
I heard the hand guard can get hot
Heard sig is a bit over priced by some measures
16" barrel, but not a deal breaker, as I'd like replace the upper eventually anyways
IV. Springfield Saint Victor
Pros:
For the price, seems really high quality
Comes with flip up irons
I like the flat trigger
Has a lined barrel
Very reputable company
Cons:
Don't hear too much praises about this one, but some loyal fans
Big logo on the side (mild complaint)
Also heard it is over priced
Sorry again to be that guy, but I hope this post is either detailed enough to be warranted or is a sufficient enough compilation of common curiosity for new buyers in one place to be helpful as a compilation of info
Thanks again!
ETA:
Not really interested in other recommendations, as only the listed complete rifles are local to me
If I'm gonna go through an FFL, I'll just get the upper lower combo, personally
Feel free to post other recommendations in case in could help others, but, for me specifically, I'd like the go with one of the above
submitted by NewOnTheIsland to ar15 [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 17:19 MrMonstrosity D4 Unique Items

So here are some datamined unique items (build 0.8.0.39517). *Please note: These may not be final and there could be additional unique items added, or powers/names changed. I don't believe this is the final list, in fact, I've seen screenshots of many other uniques that aren't listed here. You'll notice a few fan-favorite uniques returning in the list from previous games along with uniques that are completely new.
*posted in the diablo reddit but was told I should post here as well.
In beta we got to see only a tiny part of charactebuild customization. Once we combine legendary powers, affixes and stats on gear, paragon boards, glyphs (socket these into paragon boards), uniques, skill trees, and the class-specific systems (enchantments, book of the dead, spirit boons, etc) we should be in a great place which should be enough to satisfy even the most veteran arpg fans out of the gate.
So uniques have the following:
Normal/Sacred/Ancestral tiers
Something that I've also not seen much discussion on are sacred or ancestral tiers of items. If you don't know what these are, they are similar to ancient items in D3. As you go up in difficulty (world tiers) you unlock the chance for any item that drops to be sacred or ancestral. All items; white, magic, rare, legendary or unique have a chance to roll as sacred or ancestral. Sacred items roll higher values and item power than normal tier, and ancestral items roll higher values and item power than sacred tiers. Finding an ancestral item at the highest world tier is actually pretty rare, so you can imagine that finding an ancestral unique or legendary item will be very rare and add to the actual endgame loot hunt.

Unique Items

Barbarian specific uniques:
Item Name Type Power Flavor Text
Ramaladni's Magnum Opus 1h Sword Skills using this weapon deal x% increased damage per point of Fury you have, but you lose x Fury every second. "Without him the wine is less sweet, the hearth less warm, and our blades less keen. Our blood brother is gone, but Bul-Kathos willing, we will meet again one day." - Sorrowsong for Ramaladni *this is a tribute to Travis Day, a Blizzard developer who passed away.
Ancients' Oath 2h Axe Steel Grasp launches 2 additional chains. Enemies hit by Steel Grasp are Slowed by x% for x seconds. "Weapons wielded by the fiercest warriors often catch the eye of the Ancient spirits. If the wielder is worthy, the spirits may bless the steel with their strength." - Gerti, Oxen Tribe Forgemaster
Hellhammer 2h Mace Upheaval ignites the ground Burning enemies for an additional x damage over x seconds. The demon prince Ikonoth slew hundreds of the Heavenly Host with this infernal hammer before falling to none other than the Archangel Imperius himself.
Overkill 2h mace Death Blow creates a shockwave, dealing x% of its Base damage to enemies. Enemies who die to this effect also reset Death Blow's Cooldown. The malformed snake creatures that live in the swamps are not content with simply killing their prey. They seem to take a malicious pleasure from inflicting as much suffering as possible before death.
Fields of Crimson 2h Sword While using this weapon, damaging at least one enemy with Rupture creates a blood pool that inflicts x Bleeding damage over x seconds. Enemies standing in the pool take x% increased Bleeding damage. "We've been fighting these flesh-eaters for so long, been soaked in so much blood, that after a while it's difficult to tell what side you're truly on." - Daelyr, Crane Tribe warrior
Battle Trance Amulet Increase Frenzy's maximum stacks by x. While you have maximum Frenzy, your other Skills gain x% increased Attack Speed. "The change that overtook my brother in battle was terrifying. His eyes turned hard like diamonds, and the way he moved... it was like he was dancing to music only he could hear." - Captain Dervin
100,000 Steps Boots After gaining the final damage bonus from the Walking Arsenal Key Passive, you automatically cast Ground Stomp and gain x Fury. This cannot happen more than once every x seconds. "While many Barbarians remained in the Dreadlands, small groups from the Oxen, Crane and Bear tribes instead chose to search the land for a new home." - A History of the Children of Bul-Kathos
Rage of Harrogath Chest Lucky Hit: Up to a x% chance to reduce the Cooldowns of your Non-Ultimate Skills by 1 seconds when you inflict Bleeding on Elites. Harrogath, the final bastion of resistance against Baal's assault on Mt. Arreat was destroyed along with the Worldstone. The survivors never forgave the betrayal that led to the loss of their home.
Gohr's Devastating Grips Gloves Whirlwind explodes after it ends, dealing x% of the total Base damage dealt to surrounding enemies as Fire damage. "The brutish construction of these gloves belies the strength they bestow. Gohr was clearly no craftsman, but it would be foolish to ignore the triumph of his work." - Barrett's Book of Implements
of Hammering *(this is listed as unique test, but the name reads more like a legendary.) 2h Mace (PH) Consecutive Hammer of the Ancients increase the next cast's damage by x% its radius by x%. -
Druid specific uniques:
Item Name Type Power Flavor Text
Waxing Gibbous 1h Axe Gain Stealth for x seconds when killing enemies with Shred. Breaking Stealth with an attack grants Ambush which guarantees Critical Strikes for x seconds. The nights preceding the full moon are sometimes far more dangerous than the event itself. The frenzy has begun to rise, yet the night is just dark enough to obscure a hunter from their prey's sight.
Greatstaff of the Crone 2h Staff Claw is now a Storm Skill and also casts Storm Strike at x% normal damage. "She has existed in Scosglen since before Fiacla-Géar walked the land. Her purpose is a mystery to us all. However, approach her with deference; she may grant you her counsel." - Airidah, to Donan
Mad Wolf's Glee Chest Werewolf form is now your true form, and you gain +2 Ranks to all Werewolf Skills. "He was not a victim of the curse - he sought it out. As his skin split and his bones cracked, his laughter never ceased." – Tale of the Mad Nobleman
Insatiable Fury Chest Werebear form is now your true form, and you gain +2 Ranks to all Werebear Skills. When the Days of Ash began, the great druid Nafain reminded his disciples that nothing, not even the loss of their humanity, was too great a sacrifice to protect Túr Dúlra from Astaroth's flames.
Tempest Roar Helm Lucky Hit: Storm Skills have up to a x% chance to grant x Spirit. Your base Storm Skills are now also Werewolf Skills "Listen, child, to the music of the storm. It has its own rhythm. Its own melody. Hear how beautifully it sings, and perhaps one day you will be able to join in its harmony." – Airidah
Vasily's Prayer Helm Your Earth Skills are now also Werebear Skills and Fortify you for x. "Roots from the Great Oak growing at the seaward statue of Vasily will, on rare occasions, be found twisted back upon themselves, suffused with ferocious magic." - Barrett's Book of Implements
Storm's Companion Pants Your Wolf Companions are infused with the power of the storm, dealing Lightning damage and gaining the Storm Howl ability. "The storm's rage is my own, brother. I call, and the skies roar in reply." - Vasily, to Bul-Kathos
Hunter's Zenith Ring Gain a bonus when you kill with a Shapeshifting Skill: Werewolf: Your next Non-Ultimate Werebear Skill costs no Resource and has no Cooldown. Werebear: Your next Werewolf Skill will Heal you for x when damage is first dealt. "By fang, claw, spear, or sword - send the bastards back to the flames from which they crawled! Soak the peat with their blood! For Fiacla-Géar! For Scosglen!" - Nafain, during the Days of Ash
Necromancer specific uniques:
Item Name Type Power Flavor Text
Black River 1h Scythe Corpse Explosion consumes up to x additional Corpses around the initial Corpse, dealing x% increased damage and with a x% larger radius per additional Corpse. "The scrolls describe a river of tar that separated the living from the land of the dead. Any unfortunate soul who tried to cross would be dragged down into oblivion." - Notes of Scholar Kamien
Bloodless Scream 2h Scythe Your Darkness Skills Chill enemies for up to x%. Lucky Hit: Your Darkness Skills have up to a x% chance to generate x additional Essence against Frozen targets. "My companion swung her odd weapon in a wide arc, and our pursuer stopped short. The look of horror on his face as his body fell to pieces will haunt me forever." - The Ebon Pages, Canto II, Verse XI
Deathspeaker's Pendant Amulet Blood Surge casts a mini nova on your Minions, dealing x damage. Damage is increased by x% per target drained by the initial cast, up to x%. Once a sanctum for Rathma's studies, the Temple of the Deathspeaker became a proving grounds for potential leaders of his priesthood. Its halls are filled with the corpses of those who failed.
Greaves of the Empty Tomb Boots Create desecrated ground beneath your Sever spectres as they travel, damaging enemies for x Shadow damage over x seconds. "The massive door to my family's crypt, which had taken a dozen men to close, was thrown open. Had I known the horrors to come I never would have set foot inside!" -The Ebon Pages, Canto I, Verse VII
Blood Artisan's Cuirass Chest When you pick up Blood Orbs, a free Bone Spirit is spawned, dealing bonus damage based on your current Life percent. "The infamous Necromancer Gaza-Thul's mastery over blood magic was indisputable. Many suspect that upon his death, his skin was used to fashion this eldritch armor." - Barrett's Book of Implements
Howl from Below Gloves Instead of detonating immediately, Corpse Explosion summons a Volatile Skeleton that charges at a random enemy and explodes. Corpse Explosion's damage is increased by x%. "Can you not hear it? That endless scream from the cold earth beneath your feet!? They are down there, trapped, blind with rage! Waiting to drag us down into the sod!" - Ravings of Madman Gustav
Deathless Visage Helm Bone Spear leaves behind echoes as it travels that explode, dealing x damage. "Rathma is endless. He was the first Ancient, and will remain at the end. He is the master of the Great Cycle of Being. When Death comes for him, why should he fear it?" - Vauntus, Acolyte of Rathma
Ring of Mendeln Ring While you have x or more Minions you gain: Lucky Hit: Up to a x% chance to empower all of your Minions, causing the next attack from each to explode for x Physical damage. The signet of Mendeln ul-Diomed, the founder of the Priests of Rathma and the first Necromancer, was lost for over 3,000 years. The immense power over death held within, however, has not diminished.
Rogue specific uniques:
Item Name Type Power Flavor Text
Condemnation Dagger Your Core Skills deal x% increased damage when spending 3 Combo Points. Your Basic Skills using this weapon have a x% chance to generate 3 Combo Points. "I've never seen such ruthless butchery. He deserves to be be shipped off to die in the swamps with the rest of the godless murderers." - Witness to the murder of Sergeant Walcot
Asheara's Khanjar Dagger Hits with this weapon increase your Attack Speed by x% for x seconds, up to x%. When Caldeum's gates closed, Asheara led her Iron Wolves out of the city knowing full well they would never return. Instead they roamed Kehjistan pledging their blades to any who were in need.
Skyhunter Bow The first direct damage you deal to an enemy is a guaranteed Critical Strike. If you had maximum stacks of the Precision Key Passive when you cast the Skill, gain Energy, this can only happen once per cast. "Genai took up her bow and aimed at the sun itself. The light burned her eyes, but her arrow flew true. Wounded, the sun hid, and brought forth the first night. - Fable of the Great Sky-Hunt
Windforce Bow Lucky Hit: Hits with this weapon have up to a x% chance to deal double damage and Knock Back the target. "There have been numerous world-shaping conflicts throughout history. This bow has been found on the battlefield of every one, and always in the hands of the victors." - Barrett's Book of Implements
Word of Hakan Amulet Your Rain of Arrows is always Imbued with all Imbuements at once. "Let the great gates of Caldeum be sealed. Let its proud walls stand fiercely defended. The rest of Kehjistan may suffer this plague, but my city, and my people, will not." - Proclamation of Hakan II
Grasp of Shadow Gloves Lucky Hit: Damaging a Vulnerable enemy with a Marksman or Cutthroat Skill has up to a x% chance to summon a Shadow Clone that mimics your attack. Dark wisps creep hungrily across these gloves, like an assassin's blade seeking a life to steal on a moonless night.
Cowl of the Nameless Helm You gain x% increased Lucky Hit Chance against Crowd Controlled enemies. "He is banished from the Guild, his name stricken from the Book. His punishment is to never have been." - Excerpt from a burned parchment
Eyes in the Dark Pants Unless it hits a Boss or Player, Death Trap will continue to re-arm itself until it kills an enemy. However, Death Trap's Cooldown is increased by x%. "And so, when the sun dipped behind the hills each night, he knew that Ashen Jack would soon be near. Watching, and waiting." - Greenslade's Tales, Chapter 2: "Each Long Night" name*:* Eyes in the Dark
Sorcerer specific uniques:
Item Name Type Power Flavor Text
Flamescar Wand While Channeling Incinerate, you periodically shoot embers that are attracted to enemies, each dealing x Fire damage. The burn may heal, but the pain is eternal.
Staff of Endless Rage Staff Every 3rd cast of Fireball launches 2 additional projectiles. "Leaving even blackened bones for your kin to mourn is too good an end for you." - Josiah
Staff of Lam Esen Staff Charged Bolts pierce, but deal x% less damage. "Also known as the Greatstaff of the Old Religion, this powerful relic is one of only a small handful of Skatsimi artifacts that have survived to this day." - Barrett's Book of Implements
Esadora's Overflowing Cameo Amulet Upon collecting Crackling Energy, there's a x% chance to release a lightning nova, dealing x Lightning Damage. The only thing more potent than Esadora's magic was her endless hatred of humanity. As she lay dying, the pale amulet around her neck drank in both.
Esu's Heirloom Boots Your Critical Strike Chance is increased by x% of your Movement Speed bonus. "While scholars have proven these boots were not created by Esu herself, it is noteworthy that they have been passed down since the formation of the Mage Clans." - Barrett's Book of Implements
Raiment of the Infinite Chest After using Teleport, Close enemies are Pulled to you and Stunned for x seconds, but Teleport's Cooldown is increased by x%. The power you have is never enough.
Gloves of the Illuminator Gloves Fireball now bounces as it travels, exploding each time it hits the ground, but its explosion deals x% less damage. After Inarius returned to Sanctuary, he sought a way back to the High Heavens. His first step was to reignite the religion he had abandoned millennia before: the Cathedral of Light.
Iceheart Brais Pants Enemies that die while Frozen have a x% chance to unleash a Frost Nova. The mad artisan saw his fingers turn black from frostbite as he worked the cloth, but refused to stay the needle and thread for even a moment.
General (used by all) uniques:
Item Name Type Power Flavor Text
The Butcher's Cleaver 1h Axe Lucky Hit: When you Critically Strike an enemy you have up to a x% chance to Fear and Slow them by x% for x seconds. A nightmarish amalgam of blood, bone and steel, this axe is as horrific, and as deadly, as its creator.
Doombringer 1h Sword Lucky Hit: Up to a x% chance to deal x Shadow damage to surrounding enemies and reduce their damage done by x% for x seconds. Whenever this ancient sword has reappeared throughout history, it portends a time of great strife, as well as a devastating loss of life.
The Grandfather 2h Sword Increases your Critical Strike Damage by x%. The other properties on this weapon can roll higher than normal. An unbroken lineage of unwavering strength.
- 2h Sword - -
- 2h Sword - -
- 2h Sword - -
Melted Heart of Selig Amulet Gain x% Maximum Resource. In addition, when you take damage, drain x Resource for every x% of Life you would have lost instead. "Do not allow your passions to become obsessions. Fuel the fire that burns within you, but it is madness to allow yourself to become ash to please an uncaring universe." - Last words of Master Selig
Penitent Greaves Boots You leave behind a trail of frost that Chills enemies. You deal x% more damage to Chilled enemies. Remorseful devotees of the Cathedral of Light must undertake a grueling pilgrimage, journeying across the frigid glacier known as the Serac Rapture. Only then may their gravest sins be forgiven.
Razorplate Chest Gain x Thorns Crafted by the cannibal Armoda, each piece of this interlocking armor has been sharpened into a knife's edge. Even a century after death, the plate remained on her corpse, unable to be removed safely.
Fists of Fate Gloves Your attacks randomly deal x% to y% of their normal damage. "Will you let fear cheat you, or will you risk everything to find understanding? After all, death is simply the coin with which we purchase life." - Zurke
Frostburn Gloves Lucky Hit: Up to a x% chance to Freeze enemies for x seconds. A touch so frigid it stops the heart and chills the very soul.
Andariel's Visage Helm Lucky Hit: Up to a x% chance to trigger a poison nova that applies x Poisoning damage over x seconds to enemies in the area. The horrific whispers of the Maiden of Anguish flicker through your mind, pushing you ever closer to madness...
Harlequin Crest Helm Gain x% Damage Reduction. In addition, gain +x Ranks to all Skills. "This headdress was once worn by an assassin disguised as a court mage. Her treachery was unveiled, but not before she used its magic to curse the king's entire lineage." - The Fall of House Aston
Temerity Pants Effects that Heal you beyond x% Life grant you a Barrier up to x% of your Maximum Life that lasts for x seconds. "The revelation that master tailor Callas was in fact a witch only served to further fuel the desire for her uniquely enchanted legwraps." - Barrett's Book of Implements
Mother's Embrace Ring If a Core Skill hits x or more enemies, x% of the Resource cost is refunded. "Every tome, every scroll, every book in this temple produces the same answer. The only being willing to stand against the Eternal Conflict, against the Prime Evils, was Lilith." - Elias
Ring of Starless Skies Ring Each consecutive Core Skill cast reduces the Resource cost of your next Core Skill by x%, up to a maximum of x%. "Yours is the power to pluck the stars from the heavens with the ease of a child gathering fruit from the bough." - Unknown
submitted by MrMonstrosity to diablo4 [link] [comments]


2023.03.21 17:07 MjolnirPants Jerry and the Apocalypse: Part 53

Part 52
Glenda Wilmington, Kinda Digging This Whole Cop Gig
"If you hear anything else, give me a call," Glenda said, handing the woman a business card with her cellphone number on it. The woman accepted it and then squinted skeptically at it.
"Cooperation with an investigation is the sort of thing that parole boards like to hear about," Glenda said in response to the woman's look. That seemed to do the trick. The woman slipped the card into her ample cleavage and met Glenda's eyes.
"I will call. I have no loyalty to that man." Her sing-song Norwegian accent, as well as her tall, thick frame and bright, yellow-blonde hair contrasted with the environment; a run-down housing project in the heart of Compton. But housing for convicted felons on parole was limited, and she'd had few choices in this area. Glenda wondered idly why the woman hadn't elected to return to Norway, where they tended to be a bit more sympathetic to ex-cons. The woman, Duke's one-time head channeler, didn't seem prepared to answer any more questions, however.
Glenda nodded and stepped back. The woman took a step outside, careful to keep the foot with the ankle monitor inside the door and took a look around before withdrawing back into the house. Glenda turned and walked down the steps off the creaky wooden porch and back to the rental car, where Jack dozed lightly in the passenger seat, his cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. She climbed behind the wheel, trying not to wake him, and started the engine.
He woke anyways. Jack had always been a very light sleeper. He turned his head slightly towards her, not adjusting the hat at all.
"Anything?" he asked. Glenda shook her head. "Nobody's heard from him. I think it's safe to say he's not looking to connect with any of his old associates, at this point."
"Ayup," Jack agreed. Glenda pulled away, heading north, towards the 105 that would take them back to the airport. They were done here. As she drove, she couldn't help but note the scowling, suspicious faces that turned to watch them. She took in the low, chain-link fences that separated yards, the equally low concrete block walls that surrounded paved driveways. The odd mix of Spanish colonial and more traditional American architecture was like a sign. It told her that she could find a bag of the white lady, a bag of weed, or a bag of something more exotic here. She could find a gang, beefing with another gang, and maybe convince one side to pay her to make someone on the other side vanish.
It was almost nostalgic.
They passed a tan-painted Spanish colonial house with a faux wrought-iron fence, and she knew right away that a dealer lived there. The child's play set in the front had never been touched by anything more careless than the wind and rain. The SUV in the driveway might have belonged to a small family, except for the large speakers she could see through the rear window. The tint on the windows of both car and home added to the effect. The kicker, though, was the white-haired, middle-aged man stepping out the front door to squint suspiciously around before heading back up the street in the direction of the channeler's home, where Glenda had spotted him walking this way just a few minutes ago.
Without bothering to ask anyone, she could say with confidence that whoever lived there sold mainly cocaine, but he also had cheap weed for those who couldn't afford the prices at the dispensary. He'd have rocks too, but he probably wouldn't sell them to you if you knew where he lived. He'd sell them on the weekends, manning a street corner, alongside a thug from whatever gang he ran with or paid tribute to.
Everyone knew they were cops, of course. Years of living in rural Canada had faded Glenda's tan and affected her fashion choices. Once, she'd have moved through an area like this in gym shorts, sneakers and a faded old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Showing off enough muscle to make the usual idiots think twice about harassing her, but not showing off so much skin than people might take her for a street worker with a schtick. Today, she drove in blue jeans, hiking boots and a flannel shirt. Next to her, Jack wore the same, complimented with a denim jacket. Only a couple of cops would dress like that in this neighborhood.
Though that wasn't strictly true -Jack's jurisdiction ended many hundreds of miles north of here- it might as well be. They were private investigators, working on behalf of the federal government, who was footing the bill for Dylan's recapture. Whether or not they were technically considered law enforcement officers depended entirely upon their needs and some paperwork. So far, they hadn't needed any LEO powers.
As she turned onto the 105 and marginally sped up in the dense traffic of the highway, Jack's phone rang. He begrudgingly lifted the brim of his hat up, squinting in the bright daylight at his screen. Apparently satisfied with what he saw there, he hit the accept button and pressed the phone to his ear.
"S'Jack," he said, then he listened for a bit.
"Ayup," he said. He glanced out the window, then covered the tiny mic at the bottom of the phone. "Get off the highway," he said to Glenda. She nodded and put on her turn signal, eyes searching for a chance to get over. A minivan in the next lane, slightly ahead of them, promptly slowed down to pace them.
"Awwright," he drawled into the phone. "We'll check it out. 'Preciate the heads up. Take care, now."
He pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the screen again before slipping it back into his pocket jacket.
"That was intel. Said that a bank account belonging to one Dylan Boucher just got emptied by a wire transfer to one Derek Garcia. Just a hair over ten grand. Transfer woulda taken place about a week ago, intel didn't pick up on it until it cleared."
"Garcia, that's the one that calls himself the 'Planewalker', right?"
"Ayup," Jack said. Glenda finally got tired of trying to get behind the minivan and sped up to cut him off, instead. Jack could see that it was being driven by a heavily tattooed white kid with dredlocks. He honked and flipped them off, but she ignored him. She'd had her turn signal on, and tried to get behind him, but he had slowed down and sped up to block her.
Out of pure spite, she tapped the brakes a few times.
Jack bounced forward against his seatbelt as she did and gave her a dirty look. She smiled sweetly at him. "What? That's how you drive around here. You used to live in Atlanta, you've got to know this by now."
"We didn't generally make an effort to piss people off in Atlanta," he grumbled. Glenda turned onto the ramp to get off on Crenshaw, heading south.
Glenda scoffed. "Now you're just lying. I've been to Atlanta. Worst drivers in the bottom half of the country by far."
"You sure about that?" Jack said, eyeing the rear-view mirror. Glenda glanced up to see the minivan still behind them, the driver jabbing his finger at them and ranting.
"Huh," she said. "Maybe this fucker's about to prove me wrong."
"Well, we need to get gas anyways, if we're driving all the way down to San Clemente," Jack said. "Might as well pull over at the first station we see and get it over with."
Glenda chuckled, mostly at what the angry man behind her was about to experience and kept her eyes peeled for a gas station.
The minivan never wavered, staying behind her through multiple lane changes, all the way down to Artesia Boulevard, where she finally found a Shell station. She pulled in and pulled up to a pump.
"You wanna have a white knight moment, or is today an 'equality of the sexes' day?" Glenda asked as the minivan pulled in behind them and stopped, blocking the entrance.
"Sheeeit," Jack drawled. "I mean, I guess I'll handle him if ya want..." He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door as the irate young metalhead stomped towards them. He made sure to be outside the car by the time the kid got within angry dick-measuring distance.
"What the fuck is your bitch's problem, asshole?!" the young man demanded. Jack didn't answer, he simply strode forward, within striking distance. Normally, Jack liked to deliver a good, bone-chilling threat, followed up by taking a more reasonable tone as he continued to stare through whomever was causing problems and imagine himself blowing their head off as he de-escalated the situation. It was a tactic that had served him well, many times. But today, Jack was tired.
He'd been hunting Dylan down for weeks now, and only just got their first promising lead as this little shit had gone out of his way to stop them from changing lanes for no discernible reason. So Jack simply slugged the kid right in the nose. He caught him off guard and sent the kid sprawling onto his ass. Before he could gather himself back up, Jack kicked him in the chest with the sole of his boot and drew his large revolver. He crouched down, boot still pinning the kid to the ground, and held the gun casually where the kid could see it.
"You know what a turn signal means?" he asked calmly. The kid's eyes went wide as he spotted the gun.
"Y-y-yeah," he stammered.
"Good. Ya had a little lapse of judgement there. Ya might wanna see to that." Jack stood, holstering his gun and walked back over to open the gas cover and insert the company credit card into the pump. He picked the mid-grade and inserted the fuel handle, locking the valve open before he turned back.
The kid was still sitting there, wiping blood from his mouth where his nose was bleeding. "They oughta have napkins inside," Jack told him mildly. "They're usually by the hot dogs."
Jack filled the tank while the kid picked himself up and went inside. A cop arrived a few minutes later, stopping in the entrance that the kid was blocking and turning his lights on. The cop stepped out and walked around the minivan and into the gas station.
Jack waited for the tank to fill, then replaced the nozzle and climbed back in the car.
"You wanna stick around?" Glenda asked. "Shoot the shit with the locals, make sure the kid gets the short end?"
"Naw," Jack said. "Read about the LA cops. Not exactly whom I'd like to consider comrades-in-arms, if you catch my meaning."
Glenda shrugged and they pulled out right as the kid and the cop both emerged back into the parking lot. Glenda thought the cop look pissed and the kid looked dejected.
They got on the 405 and drove it down to California 73, then took that south to Interstate 5, which brought them to San Clemente an hour later. Glenda got off the highway and turned into a neighborhood full of upscale, tightly-packed Spanish colonial homes. Unlike Compton, most of the yards weren't fenced, and those that were tended towards white picket fences. The lawns were universally well-cared for and nobody looked twice at them as they drove through the neighborhood and up to the address highlighted on the GPS.
It was a small, modest-looking home with a distinctly 70's asthetic. It didn't match most of the tile-roofed, square walled homes around it, but it hardly stood out, either. A BMW sat in the driveway, framed by a pair of shaped topiary trees. It looked like something off the cover of some homemaking magazine, Glenda thought.
They parked on the street and climbed out.
"The air is crackling with magic," Glenda said. "He's in there, doing something right now."
Jack walked up and pounded on the door. Glenda held up a hand, fingers splayed. Jack would understand what she meant. The magic was currently at a five, and she'd let him know if it diminished, and by approximately how much.
She kept her hand still for a while as nobody answered the door. Five minutes passed before Jack turned to her.
"Okay, this is your gig, now," he said. He walked back to the car, opening the trunk to reveal the bound, squirming and sweating Caliope there. He yanked her gag down and fed her from a water bottle.
"Been a long drive, ain't it?" he asked, conversationally. Caliope sucked greedily at the bottle, managing to drink every drop that didn't get splashed into the trunk.
"Fuck you," she muttered weakly. Jack smiled. "Looks to me like you're the one what's fucked, darlin'. Guess you shouldn'ta gone and fucked with your sister's collar like that. I mean, if you'd played by the rules, we'd have overlooked the whole issue of you not actually being any help whatsoever, and taken your good faith efforts as enough to fill your end. But ya had to go behind our backs, causing trouble. So now you're stuck in a trunk until we get back to the airport."
"Fuck you," she gasped again.
"'Scuse me," Jack said, reaching past her for an armored vest. He pulled it out and tugged it over his head, getting the flaps velcroed in place and adjusting it. When he was done, he pulled Caliope's gag back up.
"Awright, girl, you jes sit tight while we check this out. Won't be but a little bit, then we'll be heading to the airport."
She tried to say something, but the gag turned it into a muffled wail. Jack smiled as he closed the trunk and returned to the front door. Glenda stood there, watching him, fully kitted up with her armor and a carbine in her hands.
"Ready," Jack said. Glenda turned and, without preamble, kicked the door open with a thunderous blow. She rushed inside, rifle up and leading the way, Jack hot on her heels. Neither made it very far, though.
The living room had been converted into a ritual chamber. The walls were festooned with runes and the twisting lines that connected them. The floor had a large, ornate circle in the middle, runes etched into it and twisting, spiral designs encasing the whole thing. But that wasn't what gave them pause.
In the middle of the circle hovered a shimmering mirage, through which Glenda could see a city. It looked like something out of a sci-fi film, all rounded corners and smooth, off-white concrete. The windows in the buildings were mirrored, or else none of them had lights on inside, because they all reflected a sunrise coming from behind the view.
"What the hell's that?" Jack asked. Glenda carefully felt the magic around the apparition. "I think it's a portal."
"Okay, so where does it go, do ya think?"
"I haven't got a clue. I don't recognize that city."
"Kinda looks like Mos Eisley, a hundred years after they found oil or something," Glenda said.
"Think that's what Dylan was paying for? A trip to wherever that is?"
"Looks like," Glenda mused. "We're gonna need to call this in."
"Ayup. Let's clear the house, first."
They did just that. They found a den set up in one of the bedrooms, an obviously-lived-in kitchen and a master bedroom used for its intended purposes. In the last bedroom, they found an arsenal and storage space. It was full of survival and camping gear, weapons and ammo.
"Missing rifle," Jack said, peering at a gun rack.
"Yup," Glenda agreed. She opened an ammo tin. It was only half full.
"Somebody geared up here," she said.
Jack sighed. "Let's call it in, then. We'll hand over our little helper when the backup gets here."
----
It took two hours to get a team there, mostly because the LA regional office was all the way up in Burbank. But they eventually arrived. Two security officers took Caliope off their hands, to bring her back to prison. They brought another collar, to replace the modified wet blanket spell Glenda had been holding since the riot. It hadn't seemed like a lot of effort to hold the spell in place, but as soon as she finally let it go, she felt a wave of relief.
"Julie sent some extras along," the leader of the relief force told Glenda once Caliope had been seen to. She'd already spotted the two middle-eastern men in different uniforms than the rest. She thought she recognized the older one.
"We'll take all the help we can get. Any of you boys willing to go jaunting across reality with us?" The man chuckled. "No, thanks. Besides, we've got orders to secure this building and wait for the feds. Gonna see if there's anything illegal here, so we can nab this Garcia fellow as soon as he gets back."
Glenda nodded, then looked at the two middle-eastern men. She jerked her head in a 'come here' gesture and they stepped forward.
"Glenda, right?" the older one asked, holding out a hand.
"Yup," she said as she took it. He shook firmly, then let go. "I am Aqib, and this is my assistant, Mateen. We've been running around, helping out where we can for months now. It seems it is your turn to accept our assistance."
"Either of you got any magic?" Glenda asked. Mateen hefted his rifle and then tapped his body armor. "All of our gear is enchanted. We have rings, as well," he held up a hand bedecked with silver bands. "They will help us heal from injuries and allow us to see in the dark and other such useful things."
"Good, good," she said, then stopped. Aqib. That name rang a bell. She squinted at the middle-aged man.
"You were at the Wyrm facility when we took it," she said. "About six years ago." He nodded.
"I was with your friend when she fell. She saved my life," he said. Glenda nodded. "I remember that. I'm glad you're still here, then. Glad you're with us. I, uh..." She stopped speaking before she got choked up and cleared her throat.
"Are you two ready?" she asked.
"We have our gear," Aqib said, nodding at a pair of large backpacks leaning against one of the DCM branded trucks. "Camping gear, food and water for three days. Spare ammo, tools. We were told you had much more supplies yourself."
"Yup. I've got fresh food, enough for a couple of weeks for the four of us. Plus a couple months worth of dehydrated foods, MRE's and other food that'll keep for a while. I've got water and other shit to drink, camping gear, etcetera, etcetera. As long as you guys brought your own tents, we're golden."
"That is good," Aqib said.
"Do you have battery packs?" Mateen asked.
"Battery packs?" Glenda responded.
"Yes, for phones and other electronics. To keep them charged. I have a solar recharger, but it takes a long time, and it isn't always convenient to set it up."
Glenda shook her head. "Nope. Never been much for carrying a bunch of electronics around. Besides, I doubt our phones will work, where we're going."
Aqib grinned at his companion. "No video games until we're done, Mateen," he said. Mateen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
"Mateen is still a child at heart, even though he has children of his own," Aqib explained as he stepped forward to get a good look at the portal, still hovering in the middle of the room.
"As long as he can fight," Glenda said. Jack approached, finished with the field paperwork. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a rifle slung over the other. He still wore his armor.
"He fights like a cornered dog," Aqib said mildly. At Glenda's quirked eyebrow, he clarified. "He is very fierce."
"Good," Glenda said. She turned to Jack and gave him a quick kiss. "We ready?"
"Ayup," Jack confirmed. "All the paperwork's done, we're good to go."
Glenda pushed past Mateen and Aqib as they moved to pick up their packs. "I'll take them," she said. Mateen frowned, but Aqib simply nodded and stood back. She grabbed both packs and sent them to hammerspace, accepting Jack's pack and giving it the same treatment. Mateen shook his head slowly, but Aqib seemed unimpressed.
"Okay, let's boogie," Glenda said and strode through the portal before she could work up any doubts.
----
"None of 'em rotted," Jack said. "They're all mummified. All the plants are dead, but none of them are rotted, either." He stood in what seemed like a small park, a few trees growing in clusters at the four corners, and an open field of dead grass in the middle. Bodies lay strewn about, adults and children alike. Many lay draped over the benches, or slumped in a pile in front of them. One cluster of small bodies had a large, rubber-ish ball laying next to them, as if they'd died in the middle of some sort of game.
Glenda eyed the surroundings. They hadn't encountered a single living being in the hours they'd been moving through this city. "What do you think happened here?" she asked.
"I'll be honest, I ain't got a fucking clue, darlin'," Jack said. They stood in silence for a bit, reflecting on what they'd seen and wondering about it. An entire city, dead. No signs of decay, except for rusted metal. Glenda had seen large piles of rust that she took to be cars, based on the plastic and ceramic components still in them, along with the bodies. An entire city, dead. And yet the bodies remained. They'd held up better than the metal, for sure.
Mateen came around a corner at a jog and made a beeline for them. "Aqib has found something, a fresh body. Recently killed."
"Lead the way," Glenda told him. They followed him back around the corner, two blocks down and then around another corner, where they found Aqib standing over a bloody, headless corpse, resting against a building under a sign written in a language Glenda didn't recognize.
"Sheeit," Jack said as they drew up. "That's certainly out of place. Wonder where his head got to."
"Over here," Mateen said. He gestured to what looked like a bus stop with a trash can next to it. There, fetched up against the trash can was a severed head. A sparse trail of blood led from the body to it. Glenda walked over and crouched down, peering at the head.
"I think this is Garcia," she said. She pulled the photo she had of the man from hammerspace, checking it against the head.
"I think you're right," Jack said, peering over her shoulder. "And the chopped off head. That sounds like something Dylan would do."
"I think we're on the right track then," Glenda said. "But how do we know what direction he went?"
She straightened up as they all looked around. Nothing stood out to them.
A moment later, a terrifying roar sounded from off in the distance. They all turned towards it, weapons rising.
"I do not like that, but I think we know what direction to check now," Aqib said.
"'Fraid I gotta agree with ya," Jack said.
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2023.03.21 16:58 Rare_Improvement_241 Decolonization in Design and Governing

Decolonization in Design and Governing
This argumentative piece discusses the ideologies, constraints, positives, and negatives of decolonization. Decolonization refers to the movement of previously oppressed groups that go back to their original mannerisms, practices, and cultures; most groups that showed decolonization were often those from colonies that became independent of their colonizers.

Fig.1: Ironic English Protest

The most famous cases of decolonization appear hidden in plain sight, with some of the world's biggest countries showing scars of freedom fighting. The United States of America was not always united and free. In 1607, 104 Englishmen stepped onto the shores of middle North America. The British aimed to start a new settlement and further extend their roots to the furthest edges of the map. The British believed that their firepower and brute strength would overtake and overpower any existing post set up by other European countries and further be able to colonize any remaining native tribes who had maintained their independence thus far. The Native Indians are estimated to have arrived in America around 10,000 bc (Simonsen, 2006). These British people who settled in America became the new "Americans". They oppressed the Native Americans and fought them for their land leading to the First Native Indian War in 1609. The Native Americans were never defeated but suffered multiple casualties at the hands of the Americans. The Native Americans were close to losing the war towards the end of the 16th century but held off the Americans with their bows and arrows, stone clubs, spears, blow guns, and hatches. In the early 1700s, they were revolutionized and traded guns for goods with French, Italian, Belgian, and other significant European forces. Although Native Americans were not colonized, their ethics, practices, and arms were updated. They used the designs of oppressors to gain equality on the battlefield, fought the war for over 300 years, and were never fully controlled. When the war on Native Americans ended in 1924, they reverted from their colonial ways but kept using guns; what remained was their tribal and heritage-based home-building techniques, homemade, culture-filled weapons, notably the blowdart and bow and arrow, and their traditional Aztec prints (different to their camouflaged 300-year-old war attire) (Washburn, 2012).
In the areas of design in decolonization, the Native Americas proved that returning to their original roots was fulfilling and fruitful; they did not lose their culture and adapted to modern times to protect and stand their ground.

Fig. 2: Native Americans

Europeans (the Dutch) first inhabited Southern Africa in 1652. It was evident that their reasons for being there were not to colonize or to live in unison with the natives but rather to build a servicing port for ships and to farm on the rich African soils. Almost a decade later, the British arrived in 1661. The Europeans asserted dominance over the existing African tribes, forcing Africans to give up some of their heritage lands and be outcasts in new areas that were not their homes. For the next 300-odd years, countless wars broke out between the British, Dutch, and Southern African tribes. In the 1800s, Zulus adapted to the modern styles of fighting (similar to the previously-mentioned Native Americans) and put down their sticks, wooden weapons, and other fighting techniques and found guns to be more efficient. They also adapted to makeshift tent designs and sleeping solutions similar to the Europeans. Despite narrowly losing the war to the British during the Anglo-Zulu War, they used European designs to gain respect from the Europeans. Although oppressed, they had more peace than they had while coexisting in the same space as the Europeans.
In 1948, the apartheid regime began, and all people of colour were equally oppressed. The oppressed conformed to European ways of living but with fewer rights. They had no freedom to express their cultures and heritage through design, and European Gothic and Renaissance styles of Architecture were imminent throughout South Africa. Commercial buildings in CBDs and other areas of high business are plain and have very simplistic European facades. 1994 marked the end of the apartheid regime, and people of colour finally had equal rights. With that, their cultures began to thrive once again. Through fashion with cultural items such as animal prints, beaded goods, fancy feathered headwear, and other goods, African culture has imprinted on every race in South Africa; another race that embraced their fashion and culture was the Indians, who have pushed for fashion design and just like African (used as a vague, broad expression), has every race wearing it (Rovine, 2015). In architecture and the built environment, African culture can be represented by bright modern colours and unique patterns; their designs are slowly but surely making their way onto buildings as facades, decorative tiles, and finishes.

Fig. 3: South Africans Protesting against Inequality
While separating the art from the artist to some degree, the oppressed governing practices have quickly sent South Africa into poverty struck corrupted land; when looking at decolonization in terms of governing and control, although equal and free, it can be argued that since Africans have been reinstated back in control, the decolonizing of South Africa was detrimental (Hirsch, 2005). In design, Africa is thriving as a tourist hotspot as Africans have pushed their culture back out and into the world; by doing this, they have added depth to the South African culture and removed the dark monotone cloud that hung over South Africa's heritage.

Fig. 4: Constitutional Court of South Africa - Facade Design


In the mid-1600s, the British came across the remaining unexplored southern tip of Africa. It was once again a fight for them to reign power and authority over the native Venda people (Zimbabwe's leading and most prominent tribe). The British people fought for 300 years until a whole war broke out in then Rhodesia. The Rhodesian Bush War began between the Africans and Zulu in 1964 when the Africans opposed Rhodesian rule and oppression. The war became realistically winnable to the natives due to Zambia and Malawi gaining independence and the British Federation losing power in those countries. They used all the same tactics that they had learned as victims of their colonizers for the past 300 years; both sides used guns, knives, and bombs, and the fight was so equal that the war went on until 1979. The war ended in December, and by the first day of January 1980, the African people had already replaced the name Rhodesia with a new name that would fully represent their country, one that would go back to practicing Venda traditions of law and rule, viz. Zimbabwe (Gordon, 1981). Decolonization has previously shown that it is a positive idea with many advantages, but Zimbabwe was one of the significant cases of backlash.

Fig. 5: Zimbabweans with Arms Protesting White Governing
When Zimbabwe was restored to its original roots, Robert Mugabe became the prime minister in 1980 while Zimbabwe would still serve under partial British rule. Zimbabwe thrived for two years before Mugabe fired Joshua Nkomo (a member of the Zapu party) for accusing him of trying to overthrow the government; Mugabe enlisted North Korean trained soldiers to kill Nkomo's party off. In 1987, Mugabe merged forces with Nkomo and gained votes to become the president of Zimbabwe. Under Mugabe's decolonized rule, Africans gained more power in Zimbabwe than white people. Using pre-colonized rules, white people became a trophy-hunted commodity for the Africans. In 2000, Zimbabwe witnessed further bloodshed as white farm owners were slaughtered for their farms by squatters- the government supported these killings and abuse of power. In 2001, Zimbabwe opened up to the world about its financial problems as badly-run farms, poorly-maintained factories, and bank crashes caused the Zimbabwean dollar to drop quickly. Under decolonized governing, Zimbabwe was suspended by the Commonwealth and struggled with mass poverty and hunger. In 2005, an estimated 700,000 people were left homeless as the government orchestrated operation "clean-up" by destroying all street stalls and shacks. In 2008, the European Union and the United States declared full sanctions against Zimbabwe. In 2018, after 40 years of "independence", Zimbabwe changed the laws to give presidents a limited time of two terms in which they are allowed to serve a country.
The designs and systems established by Commonwealth law or any generic democratic ruling often allow countries to flourish or crash with equal fairness between government and citizens. Zimbabwe's recent history has shown that as good as decolonization may be; it may also cause years of bloodshed, a crashing economy, poverty, and famine.

Fig. 6: Zimbabweans Peacefully Protesting in 2020

In the early 1600s, the British landed on the warm sandy coast of Surat, India, solely intending to trade. Not long after, the British decided to dismiss their trade ideas with the Indians and instead do the trading of Indians and Indian goods. Despite not being under British Crown rule, India was oppressed and sapped of its people and goods. In 1858, the British officially declared that India's governing and control would come under British Crown rule whilst slowly easing off using Indians as enslaved people worldwide; they continued to trade cotton, tea, spices, indigo, silk, ivory, and marble deeply rooted in India's culture. Nearly 100 years after India served under British Crown rule, India broke free of the British and became independent, mainly through non-violent resistance promoted and endorsed by Mahatma Gandhi (Kale, 1998). India is still part of the Commonwealth, and the British heavily influenced their architecture (Cohen, 2001). However, after gaining independence, India went on a spree of building temples, shrines, and religious monuments. Since then, their unique culture can be seen in facades, tiles, gilded buildings, religious figures carved from stone, and other significant Indian designs (Scriver & Srivastava, 2016).
To inject more culture into the country, India is moving away from British glass box designs used as the blueprint for commercial buildings; they felt the buildings lacked depth. India identified decolonization as more than just using designs and input from pre-colonizing days. Instead, that design is a sense of unity and self-acceptance and has a much more robust and positive psychological effect on individuals. The past may have been better for India. However, by decolonizing design, they rediscovered their foundations and still give tourists and locals a feeling of rich heritage and culture from centuries ago, now in modern times.

Fig. 7: Indian Post-Oppression Bus Station Design

In Britain's reign for power worldwide, its biggest threat was China. Without slavery, stealing from oppressed countries, and other human rights violations, China thrived as an economic, cultural, and design hub. Britain sought to gain control of China's economic zones and initiated the First Opium war in 1839. Britain could only partially sabotage China because its population and brute armed forces ensured greater defense against colonization. Britain took control of an island off the coast of China and asserted British Crown rule over what would become Hong Kong. The British ruled Hong Kong for over a century and a half. The Hong Kong citizens did not resist oppression. They waited until Britain traded them back to China with the agreement that Hong Kong would not be decolonized and practice capitalist ideas and systems for 50 years after the handover (Wong, 2013).

Fig. 8: Hong Kong Citizens Demanding and Fighting for Democracy
While British architecture and design can be seen throughout Hong Kong, China explicitly tries to inject Chinese culture into the previously oppressed independent state. With Mandarin banners, bright red and yellow facades, and other Chinese symbols like dragons, China is singlehandedly decolonizing Hong Kong. The problem that arose with Hong Kong being handed over to another state was that Hong Kong never had its independence and always belonged to another country, never fully being able to practice its decolonization (Lim & Lim, 2007). While China is positively reinstating culture and heritage in Hong Kong, protestors continuously fight to make Hong Kong its own country.

Fig. 9: Proposed Building Facade Design from Mainland China

Throughout this argumentative essay, we discussed decolonization in governance, design, heritage, and culture. Decolonization in the world's history is proven to be primarily positive. However, care must be taken to avoid extreme decolonization, especially in areas of design, as we risk losing the richly-woven tapestries of design constructs that have metamorphosized through the centuries.
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2023.03.21 16:45 MoeDantes So I gave Ducktales 2017 a second chance

At some point in the past, I mentioned not liking the 2017 Ducktales. However, not long ago I read things that made me feel like giving the 2017 show a second shot.
The thing that got me interested was, basically, hearing that it ends up becoming this big Disney Afternoon crossover, where apparently the Rescue Rangers, the cast of Talespin, and some aspects of Darkwing Duck all exist in the same universe. I mean, it sounded like a fanfic fever dream, but sometimes fanfic fever dreams can be made of awesome. And who knows, maybe my initial distaste was just a bad mood or something....
So I find a way to watch Ducktales 2017, and I make it about fifteen episodes into the first season...
.... and I stop because I realize I'm going through aspirin way too fast.
But one thing I wanna mention real quick.... the 1980s Ducktales
So usually any time 2017 is brought up (especially if you're critical of it), the discussion tends to turn into a "1980s versus 2017" thing (or if you're dealing with fans who actually know sh--, 2017 versus the comics of Carl Barks and Don Rosa).
But let's be honest: 1980s Ducktales was not some sacred thing too holy for this Earth. In fact honestly, speaking as a guy who nerds out over eighties and nineties cartoons, I always found Disney's TV offerings the weakest of either decade, usually because of the writing.
I will say that Ducktales 1980s is better than 2017.... but it's more accurate to say it's less grating and more bearable and has more moments of geniunely engaging stories. But at the same time it also has episodes like "All Ducks on Deck" which basically foreshadows a lot of the problems I'd end up having with the 2017 show... and I'll say this: Gizmoduck's introduction in 2017 was better than his introduction in 1980, in a movie/five-part episode called "Super Ducktales" which winds up going right off the rails.... just saying: I think the meds were kicking in the moment they decided to have aliens show up and steal Scrooge's Money Bin.
So what sucks about the 2017 Ducktales?
In a word: the characters. Holy Sh-- the characters. After fifteen episodes I was sooo sick of how everyone was this hipster ironic detached self/cosmically-aware dipsh-- always ready with the quips and dialogue that sound like things a Channel Awesome reviewer would say as a joke and yet are apparently what these people actually chose to say for real in their actual lives.
Writing tip: .... try having a conversation with another person in the real world, preferably someone who isn't someone you met online.
One thing I wanna comment on real quick... since I only watched season one, I did not see the 2017 version of Doofus. Now, Doofus in the original show was not a particularly great character... but just on principle, I hate the idea of taking an unpopular character and making them a villain. Why the f--- would you ever think that's a good idea? A better idea would be to just not use him at all.
Anyway....
Let's talk about Webby
I used to think Webby was my biggest problem with this show, but actually she's grown on me... or rather, now that I've seen how annoying the nephews are, she's easier to tolerate.
The thing that bothers me about Webby is she's basically the Pinkie Pie. She's the cute quirky one, which you know in modern writing means she's gonna be allowed to say, do, or behave just however because the writers are gonna favorite her (much like, again, what happened with Pinkie Pie). No quirk or behavior or sudden out-of-nowhere ability is too out-there for the Writer Favorite Cute Quirky Girl!
I recall having a problem with this very early on. "Daytrip of Doom" (the very second episode of the series) shows that Webby doesn't understand the concept of lying, even when its demonstrated right in front of her. This is supposed to come off as quirky and a sign of her "not getting things" due to being a shut-in, but no amount of justifications or rationalizations can change the fact that she just comes off as stupid: Louie shows her how to lie. He does it right in front of her, and he explains the reasons for it.
The only way to read that scene is that she doesn't understand the concept of deception.... but here's the thing:
On rewatch, this issue is even worse: very first episode shows that she has a conspiracy theory wall and already suspects that the McDuck clan has a web of secrets and lies. The very same episode where she can't lie to score a free drink also shows she has a copy of The Art of War which she apparently values so highly that she struggles to fit it into her survival pack (and yes, its very clear that Webby can read, and has an Encyclopedia Brown-like capacity for remembering a lot of it--just the fact that she can translate ancient hieroglyphs demonstrates this). How can she have read The Art of War and not learned about deception when that's like 90% of what it discusses?
AND THEN later still, the show reveals she's been being asked to lie about things all her life by either Scrooge or Mrs. Beakley.
AND THEN AND THEN in episode four, implied to only be a short time after episode two, Webby is such a master deceiver that she's able to trick some of the Beagle Boys by making up an entire fake name and history for herself and her new friend on the spot, with British accents and everything! (Okay, to be fair, maybe Webby is a fast learner... just not fast enough to score free drinks).
But like I said, Webby doesn't irritate me as much, because I now see what the rest of the cast is like.
Let's talk about....
Flintheart Glomgold
Flint, my man, what did they do to you? Why, why did they decide to turn you into this over-the-top parody of cartoon villains?
The funny thing is.... I can't speak for the original Carl Barks comics, but the 1980s cartoon didn't even imply Flintheart was a villain. Him and Scrooge had more like an Old Married Couple dynamic (actually one odd thing about the 1980s show was that the villains could be oddly nice when dealing with anyone who wasn't Scrooge, and I feel like this would've been a more interesting route... but instead the 2017 show goes and makes both Flintheart and my gal Magica more one-note).
Just for an example, watch this Youtube compilation. Now try to imagine this Flintheart walking around with a hand puppet he treats as his son or loading up slides while maniacally explaining his evil plan.
But at least Flintheart was kinda funny sometimes..... as opposed to...
That Mark Zuckerberg stand-in guy
I don't remember his name and I don't care to. I think it was like Mark Beaks or something. God, every time this guy showed up, I hoped he would die, not in a "he's a villain and I want to see his comeuppance" way, but in a "if he dies then I'll never have to see another episode featuring him" way. Seriously, he makes me long for the 1980s version of Doofus.
And look... I get that to an extent, the entire idea is that Duckerberg is meant to be this shallow, social-media obsessed idiot who got big because he just happened to have a few good ideas. And I mean... fine. He's a character who works for one episode. BUT THEY KEEP BRINGING HIM BACK.
One problem I always had with Disney's 1980s cartoons is how they liked to introduce annoying side characters, like how Rescue Rangers had the Pi-Rats and Canina LeFur. I see Disney still doesn't have their heads screwed on straight and still looks at annoying concepts and says "yeah, we need this in our show." Disney: please un-f--- yourself.
Launchpad McQuack
So another issue Disney's writing has had since the 1980s is that the longer their shows go on, the more simplistically (and often inconsistently) their characters are portrayed. Poor Launchpad is prime example numero uno.
Originally, he was a reckless daredevil but he wasn't stupid. This changed as the show went on (maybe all those crashes were giving him brain damage?) and when Launchpad appeared in Darkwing Duck, he had an overall drop in intelligence. Also... does he understand that crashing is bad or doesn't he? The old shows played it both ways--sometimes he thinks crashing is the proper way to land, other times he knows its a mistake.
(Then again Disney is the same company that had Chip grouching at Gadget, a girl he supposedly was in love with. No wonder Gadget ended up marrying the damn fly).
That was nothing compared to Ducktales 2017 though, where Launchpad is such a brainless buffoon that you legitimately wonder how this guy hasn't accidentally choked himself to death or been talked into sticking his beak in an electric outlet.
And the writers are under the dangerous delusion that his stupidity is funny.
It isn't. Easily the worst part of any episode is when they devote upwards of several infinities to showing Launchpad being incredibly stupid. Like no joke, one of the few episodes I was legitimately enjoying was the one about Mt. Neverrest, and yet several minutes were dedicated to Launchpad's stupidity causing him to have several misadventures that really should've resulted in his death (and I wish they had).
Scrooge McDuck and Donald
.... Actually, Donald is probably the one character they did justice to.
And Scrooge isn't so bad either. He acts a little more.... "product of the age of youtube age" than I would like, he's still the most relatable character.
(An example of what I mean... while I didn't watch the full episode featuring Doofus, I did watch the pre-title sequence, and it kinda exemplifies what I mean by "product of the youtube age").
Not to brag, but in that episode that's framed as a mystery where they're trying to figure out who kidnapped Scrooge during his birthday party, I had correctly figured the solution right off the bat. Watching 600+ Detective Conan episodes paid off, baby! (It helped that, well, Scrooge had done basically what I would do).
Huey, Dewey, and Louie
.... But mostly Dewey
I actually don't think I have a huge issue with Huey. Louie's laziness bugged me at first but when it became clear it was being presented as a character flaw he's meant to get over and not just joke fodder, I bore it.
Sometimes I want to slap some sense into Dewey though.
Actually, back up... Dewey had one moment in particular that struck me as "because the script says so."
It was in the episode where they went to that island with Zeus and Storkules (who, unfortunately, I know we see again because his name is in an episode title).
So Webby and Dewey make it to this room that has this entrance to a hidden inner chamber, they open it, and the entrance is slowly closing... Dewey suddenly decides he doesn't wanna go in because this will finally reveal the truth about his mom (spoiler: it reveals f--k all) and Webby had been pestering him all episode about the evidence implying Della had betrayed Scrooge.
So Dewey is suddenly all "No, I don't wanna go in there and risk finding out my mom is a villain!"
...... then just as the door is about to close, Dewey changes his mind.
For no reason.
Webby doesn't give him a speech, he doesn't have an epiphany or a thought... it's like a switch flipped in his head and he said "okay, the script says I change my mind now" and he decides him and Webby should dive in.
To quote Confused Matthew: "What was at stake, the running time?" Actually yeah it really felt like Dewey's sudden reluctance and just-as-sudden turnaround only happened because they needed to pad the episode's length a bit.
Other Things
Not a big fan of Gyro Gearloose being implied evil and only capable of creating robots that turn evil.
On the other hand though, I looked ahead because I needed to see how Gosalyn (from Darkwing Duck) was interpreted and honestly her portrayal makes me wanna at least watch those episodes, even though she's not a patch on 1990s Gosalyn (who was adorable).
I have no real issues with Lena. I do kinda wanna finish Season One just to see how Magica turns out, but... I'm not a big fan of the brief glimpses we've gotten so far.
Does Merlock ever appear in this series? I've heard Gene the Genie does, so I would assume Merlock is here too. (Too bad in this version, he had nothing to do with sinking Atlantis).
In Conclusion
The sad part is that despite how painful this show has been so far (so much that I had to take an extended break after just fifteen episodes), a part of me does want to see more of it, just to see how certain things are done or handled.... even though by this point I know I'm probably gonna hate it.
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2023.03.21 16:33 storyconsumer08 Dark Angels, Iron Hands and battle forces…

I asked on another sub but didn’t get a proper answer so I’m asking here.
I am finally creating a space marine army after being in the hobby for ~20 years. I am making my own Successor Chapter because I want to do my own colors and lore. I really like Iron Hands because of the play style and lots of heavy weapons and dreads (not the biggest fan of the hover tanks though), but I also really love the Dark Angels aesthetic.
That being said, I LOVE terminators and dreadnoughts, so I bought the March of Iron Strike Force; and am thinking of getting the Augustus Strike Force and the Soul Forged King box to complement the Astartes I already have and to add to my CSM army.
My questions:
1.) I’m thinking of flipping to Dark Angels because the deathwing terminators give me more of what I want as opposed to regular terminators; So can I run a Successor chapter with mostly deathwing and dreadnoughts? I was going to turn all of the deathwing into the deathwing character counterparts, then buy more boxes of deathwing termies after I’ve finished assembling and painting.
2.) I don’t like Ravenwing or bikers in general; I’m considering taking thunderwolf calvary, sculpting the wolves to look more like large cats and basing/kitbashing as Ravenwing and Outriders. Does anyone have a precedent or information that would help with or prevent this from being feasible?
3.) Which box is better or get both? Wrath of the Soul Forged King or Strike Force Agustus; I could use everything in both boxes technically, but Azrael and Vashtorr idk what to do with other than just paint them up and use them as proxies. (Vashtorr I still really like, just don’t have a bunch of cultists or Deamon engines and Azrael can be kept as is if I run basic DA) I’m new to collecting Space Marines so I only have what’s in the March of Iron box atm.
Thanks in advance for any replies, I won’t be in competitive play for at least a year so that will be irrelevant. However, if the Thunderwolf/Ravenwing conversions turn out how i hope I can submit them for competitions.
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2023.03.21 16:08 FlyWithSeedyL Release Notes - Sim Update 12 [1.31.22.0] Available Now

RELEASE NOTES 1.31.22.0

If you are playing on PC, outdated packages in your community folder may have an unexpected impact on the title’s performance and behavior.
If you suffer from stability issues or long loading times, move your community package(s) to another folder before relaunching the title.
[All Versions] How to Install a New Update Safely

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World Update 1 – Japan

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40th Anniversary Edition / Sim Update 11

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Top Gun Maverick

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2023.03.21 15:56 Plus_Ad4758 First build

80 percent lower, pro 2. A 7.5 inch upper 7.62x39 want to add noveske 30 cal flaming pig and and a bigger rail in fde to cover most of the carrel up the to flaming pig , want to buy a holosun 507c optic and some flip up sight. Any experience with a flaming pig ?
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