Cutout skeleton feet
Spring Day 55: Recording the Concrete
2024.05.14 07:12 rdk67 Spring Day 55: Recording the Concrete
I am sitting in one of the disused but quite beautiful parts of the neighborhood, waiting for it to rain.
The rain has already come and gone, a light rain that left traces of dampness on the pavement – the shade of the spring day darkens, becomes real, which is a comfort because that realness, that feeling of extra substance, comes from the water cycle working the way it's supposed to.
I feel it around my nostrils, on the cheeks of my face near the eyes, like I'm a frog looking up from its pond water, which is a pleasant feeling to sashay around town with. This is the spring we all know, the moisture appearing on my skin after driving miles above the earth ten minutes earlier –
an epic plunge is what we are walking through, but it's already rising again, and let's face it – we live in a cook pot set on media, I mean medium – medium is the setting on the cook pot, which notice is more than a crock. From the frog’s point of view, it is ideal.
From our point of view, standing in the chop of the water cycle, we are soaring in the air – then minutes from now, we might be walking in the clouds, and who knows after that, but this is the context for comings and goings this mid-afternoon – this potential for levitation.
I find a broad and elegant tree stump to sit on and record the concrete. Someday we'll all have concrete recorders but today, we just have me.
The stumps are not indigenous to the property, at least I don't think so, but I'm not exactly sure why I don't think that, given that the facility that occupies the block was once probably a forest with abundant marshy places. The forest went, then some infrastructural evolution played out that upcycled into a world-class performing arts center.
Given that my art, before it is anything, is performative – watch the monkey paint words with a stick – I'm hand-in-glove with the performance of the plaza.
I am sitting in a grove of tree stumps, which automatically brings to mind entropy – we all will die someday, become handsome all-weather furniture that slowly disintegrates – but then the overwhelming pleasantness of the day causes the thought to move on, and the stumps become a moment in time that is also a cross-section of full biography, which is quite a thing to be sitting on, waiting for the rain.
The forecast, which I predict would be one of the more impressive modern achievements to the humans who lived through the ice age – just an opinion. The forecast –
I picture their faces in stunned wonder as weather prediction after weather prediction comes true. The forecast
says there is a one-hundred percent chance of rain later this afternoon, time precise to the quarter hour, but with Doppler weather radar, one can make one's own data-driven prediction about when the rain will start to the nearest few minutes.
Someday we'll wear watches that are nothing but countdown clocks ’til the next time the forecast calls for rain – when the clock reaches the nearest minute, it switches to seconds.
This broad, elegant stump I'm sitting on sets on a bed of gravel which, when it rains, can convince me it is river gravel – pick up a few of the rounded stones, give them a close look for evidence of the past. I briefly imagine
finding the remains of a sauropod, each piece of gravel containing a tiny piece of a single sauropod, which together add up to the most complete sauropod skeleton yet discovered.
The stump is all take and no give, and yet I think I prefer it to popping open a lawn chair – the imperviousness of the stump being conducive to recording the concrete.
My backside is about eighty-years wide, which is older than my age, which inspires thoughts about backing into predestination, at least where just sitting around on a fine spring day is concerned. Like a bump on a log in a way, and let's face it – the concrete doesn't get much more concrete than that. A splashing sound
comes from the page. I scan the paper like it’s the sky, and I'm waiting for an aerial firework to open, then I find the spot of rain splashed across the phrase think so – think so, is the phrase – which is followed by a second raindrop, this one hitting the word water, causing the ink to run a little.
A one-hundred percent chance – does that even make sense? I picture a barrel of rain, rolling across the plains. Perhaps we should feel lucky for being visited by such a probability – possibly years before it rolls around again.
Rain will undoubtedly fall at this time, we say to our ice-age guests, and they will hold up the one hand like it's rain, hold up the other like it's time, weigh the two sides side-by-side maybe, maybe invent that gesture where the dancer holds both palms above their heads, lifts them up and down like they're raising the roof.
Still, I'm not sure they'll really understand all those computer models, wrapping themselves around big-data projects involving sensors and rain gauges deployed across the land, starting centuries ago. Science raised the roof, we might say, at least as far as weather prediction is concerned.
I sense the rain not exactly letting up, retreat to the interior of the performing arts center after taking a few notes.
Along part of the gravel is a long puddle of water from the overnight rain, and I would need but a few fish bones or raccoon tracks to believe the whole thing was situated beside a river, the sort of gravel bed surging with snow melt earlier in the season.
This being the Midwest, higher elevations are usually metaphorical, metaphorical before they are anything else, and I think about the campus surging with graduates this past weekend, the landscape of human potential, in all directions, inundated by them.
Inside now, I see a balloon bouquet along one wall of the concourse, with gold Mylar affirmation – The Best Is Yet to Come! – floating on the end of a ribbon.
A one-hundred percent chance of rain – imagine telling all those graduates, you have a one-hundred percent chance of finding love within a fortnight. Call it a graduation gift, then imagine all those rain gauges quivering in their brackets at the thought of measurements certain to be made, collated, used to improve the algorithms that animate the global gods of rain.
At the far end of the concourse, a lady is teaching a gentleman how to dance – they aren’t touching, aren’t even facing each other – side-by-side – and I hear her call out the moves, move-by-move.
Maybe he’s an actor and she’s going over a certain bit of choreography for an upcoming production. Maybe he’s a restless spirit, and she’s teaching him the art of haunting.
That ghost forest in the gravel outside is adjacent to one of the busiest intersections on campus, and yet, turn your back to it, and it becomes just another element in the stopping and starting of the cosmos.
I could see to either end of the block from that broad, elegant tree stump I was sitting on without really being seen from the street which, along with a lush stand of grass in a nearby raised garden bed, brings to mind the wide-open prairie from centuries past.
I picture deer bounding over golden rod. I picture foxes negotiating cone flowers.
The interior of the performing arts center is designed around the premise of potential – four theaters in league with the cardinal directions, plus a blindingly white amphitheater and a low stage in the concourse itself, where they hand out complimentary spliffs and pass around community bongs during free upbeat life-affirming musical programs, attended by folks after the workday is over, plus a helping of retirees.
Okay, not grass but alcohol, but you get the point – people enjoy shindigs now and then. The lady and gentleman are out of sight, but she’s still giving direction – I can hear their back and forth somewhere around the curve in the wall,
which might stand for the passing of time. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back! For real this time! I imagine myself destroying the pasodoble – no, god, my boot heels! The planks on the floor! I take it back!
The sun returns, so I pick up my things, head back out to that secluded space, spend a few minutes admiring the resoundingly designed program of the building.
Preformed white concrete panels are suspended twelve feet off the ground to establish the roof of the entrance. Ninety-degree angles abundantly in evidence. Brick pixelates the angled outer walls with the stuff of the earth. Ultra-high resolution, they call it around the masonic lodge.
Someone in the amphitheater is having their photo taken by a professional – everyone loves to do photo shoots there. She is wearing dark knee socks, a navy jumper and a blue bowl haircut, or maybe it’s a wig – I can’t tell from here. I picture anime or promotional material for this fine spring day.
A squirrel bounds through the grass – then poses in front of me, paws together, as though summoning oration.
A robin alights on the stone cladding of the raised beds, begins to stand exclusively on its left leg. The leg is angled under the center of mass – it’s a practiced move.
No one knows why the American robin does this – maybe it’s like bird meditation, though the memory of the American robin is so specifically extraordinary when it comes to navigation and geospecific locations that effectively, at the sensual level on up, it is living in a reality separate from our own, so who knows what meditation might mean.
They can see the magnetic fields of the earth in their eyes using a protein called cryptochrome, which reacts to magnetism. Cryptochrome – like something from the Marvel universe.
Maybe when the American robin stands on its left leg, it’s spacing out to the daytime reality of solar storms, the whole environment all aflutter with a phenomenology of waves passing around the material world.
The robin and the squirrel go their separate ways, and I feel the temperature drop – ah, me! the pasodoble! – as the next part of the front crosses campus.
A peel of thunder indicates the breaking of the sound barrier by means of electromagnetism and the displacement of gasses. Electromagnetic properties experience disequilibrium as a kind of earthquake in the sky that causes the air to vibrate in an awe-inspiring way – the sound magnetic fields make when they rearrange themselves in a gaseous atmosphere.
We are fluid dwellers, through and through, we humans and mammals and reptiles and amphibians and lichen gnawing on patches of the plaza’s concrete. Maybe from the standpoint of the atmosphere, land is just one big coral reef.
When that perfect destiny began to drop rain, the sound at first was curious, expectant – an all-squinty-eyed-and-kissy-faced sort of rain began to fall that grew into a snowy hum that seemed to have a simple song playing inside it, like someone playing a ukulele in the room next door, singing along.
The gig carries on for twenty minutes or so – an opening act – before the rain begins to march double time through the streets – barely soldiers even when they were soldiers.
Less tactic and more matador, this rain storm, and its boot heel crashes down on the planking of the still-lovely spring day. These magnetic storms are not
for war making, nor fighting bulls, nor even for entertaining that cosmic bird called the American robin. What are they for then?
American robins also configure their flight by the stars, by remembering features on the land, by creating mental maps of it all.
And they swim with both grace and endurance, as they navigate this liquid world, this concrete way of life.
In the moment, they are roosting in a tree, observing the silver magnetic waves marching through the streets. Made of what? The pasodoble! Concrete.
submitted by rdk67 to MetaphysicalWeather [link] [comments]
The rain has already come and gone, a light rain that left traces of dampness on the pavement – the shade of the spring day darkens, becomes real, which is a comfort because that realness, that feeling of extra substance, comes from the water cycle working the way it's supposed to.
I feel it around my nostrils, on the cheeks of my face near the eyes, like I'm a frog looking up from its pond water, which is a pleasant feeling to sashay around town with. This is the spring we all know, the moisture appearing on my skin after driving miles above the earth ten minutes earlier –
an epic plunge is what we are walking through, but it's already rising again, and let's face it – we live in a cook pot set on media, I mean medium – medium is the setting on the cook pot, which notice is more than a crock. From the frog’s point of view, it is ideal.
From our point of view, standing in the chop of the water cycle, we are soaring in the air – then minutes from now, we might be walking in the clouds, and who knows after that, but this is the context for comings and goings this mid-afternoon – this potential for levitation.
I find a broad and elegant tree stump to sit on and record the concrete. Someday we'll all have concrete recorders but today, we just have me.
The stumps are not indigenous to the property, at least I don't think so, but I'm not exactly sure why I don't think that, given that the facility that occupies the block was once probably a forest with abundant marshy places. The forest went, then some infrastructural evolution played out that upcycled into a world-class performing arts center.
Given that my art, before it is anything, is performative – watch the monkey paint words with a stick – I'm hand-in-glove with the performance of the plaza.
I am sitting in a grove of tree stumps, which automatically brings to mind entropy – we all will die someday, become handsome all-weather furniture that slowly disintegrates – but then the overwhelming pleasantness of the day causes the thought to move on, and the stumps become a moment in time that is also a cross-section of full biography, which is quite a thing to be sitting on, waiting for the rain.
The forecast, which I predict would be one of the more impressive modern achievements to the humans who lived through the ice age – just an opinion. The forecast –
I picture their faces in stunned wonder as weather prediction after weather prediction comes true. The forecast
says there is a one-hundred percent chance of rain later this afternoon, time precise to the quarter hour, but with Doppler weather radar, one can make one's own data-driven prediction about when the rain will start to the nearest few minutes.
Someday we'll wear watches that are nothing but countdown clocks ’til the next time the forecast calls for rain – when the clock reaches the nearest minute, it switches to seconds.
This broad, elegant stump I'm sitting on sets on a bed of gravel which, when it rains, can convince me it is river gravel – pick up a few of the rounded stones, give them a close look for evidence of the past. I briefly imagine
finding the remains of a sauropod, each piece of gravel containing a tiny piece of a single sauropod, which together add up to the most complete sauropod skeleton yet discovered.
The stump is all take and no give, and yet I think I prefer it to popping open a lawn chair – the imperviousness of the stump being conducive to recording the concrete.
My backside is about eighty-years wide, which is older than my age, which inspires thoughts about backing into predestination, at least where just sitting around on a fine spring day is concerned. Like a bump on a log in a way, and let's face it – the concrete doesn't get much more concrete than that. A splashing sound
comes from the page. I scan the paper like it’s the sky, and I'm waiting for an aerial firework to open, then I find the spot of rain splashed across the phrase think so – think so, is the phrase – which is followed by a second raindrop, this one hitting the word water, causing the ink to run a little.
A one-hundred percent chance – does that even make sense? I picture a barrel of rain, rolling across the plains. Perhaps we should feel lucky for being visited by such a probability – possibly years before it rolls around again.
Rain will undoubtedly fall at this time, we say to our ice-age guests, and they will hold up the one hand like it's rain, hold up the other like it's time, weigh the two sides side-by-side maybe, maybe invent that gesture where the dancer holds both palms above their heads, lifts them up and down like they're raising the roof.
Still, I'm not sure they'll really understand all those computer models, wrapping themselves around big-data projects involving sensors and rain gauges deployed across the land, starting centuries ago. Science raised the roof, we might say, at least as far as weather prediction is concerned.
I sense the rain not exactly letting up, retreat to the interior of the performing arts center after taking a few notes.
Along part of the gravel is a long puddle of water from the overnight rain, and I would need but a few fish bones or raccoon tracks to believe the whole thing was situated beside a river, the sort of gravel bed surging with snow melt earlier in the season.
This being the Midwest, higher elevations are usually metaphorical, metaphorical before they are anything else, and I think about the campus surging with graduates this past weekend, the landscape of human potential, in all directions, inundated by them.
Inside now, I see a balloon bouquet along one wall of the concourse, with gold Mylar affirmation – The Best Is Yet to Come! – floating on the end of a ribbon.
A one-hundred percent chance of rain – imagine telling all those graduates, you have a one-hundred percent chance of finding love within a fortnight. Call it a graduation gift, then imagine all those rain gauges quivering in their brackets at the thought of measurements certain to be made, collated, used to improve the algorithms that animate the global gods of rain.
At the far end of the concourse, a lady is teaching a gentleman how to dance – they aren’t touching, aren’t even facing each other – side-by-side – and I hear her call out the moves, move-by-move.
Maybe he’s an actor and she’s going over a certain bit of choreography for an upcoming production. Maybe he’s a restless spirit, and she’s teaching him the art of haunting.
That ghost forest in the gravel outside is adjacent to one of the busiest intersections on campus, and yet, turn your back to it, and it becomes just another element in the stopping and starting of the cosmos.
I could see to either end of the block from that broad, elegant tree stump I was sitting on without really being seen from the street which, along with a lush stand of grass in a nearby raised garden bed, brings to mind the wide-open prairie from centuries past.
I picture deer bounding over golden rod. I picture foxes negotiating cone flowers.
The interior of the performing arts center is designed around the premise of potential – four theaters in league with the cardinal directions, plus a blindingly white amphitheater and a low stage in the concourse itself, where they hand out complimentary spliffs and pass around community bongs during free upbeat life-affirming musical programs, attended by folks after the workday is over, plus a helping of retirees.
Okay, not grass but alcohol, but you get the point – people enjoy shindigs now and then. The lady and gentleman are out of sight, but she’s still giving direction – I can hear their back and forth somewhere around the curve in the wall,
which might stand for the passing of time. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back! For real this time! I imagine myself destroying the pasodoble – no, god, my boot heels! The planks on the floor! I take it back!
The sun returns, so I pick up my things, head back out to that secluded space, spend a few minutes admiring the resoundingly designed program of the building.
Preformed white concrete panels are suspended twelve feet off the ground to establish the roof of the entrance. Ninety-degree angles abundantly in evidence. Brick pixelates the angled outer walls with the stuff of the earth. Ultra-high resolution, they call it around the masonic lodge.
Someone in the amphitheater is having their photo taken by a professional – everyone loves to do photo shoots there. She is wearing dark knee socks, a navy jumper and a blue bowl haircut, or maybe it’s a wig – I can’t tell from here. I picture anime or promotional material for this fine spring day.
A squirrel bounds through the grass – then poses in front of me, paws together, as though summoning oration.
A robin alights on the stone cladding of the raised beds, begins to stand exclusively on its left leg. The leg is angled under the center of mass – it’s a practiced move.
No one knows why the American robin does this – maybe it’s like bird meditation, though the memory of the American robin is so specifically extraordinary when it comes to navigation and geospecific locations that effectively, at the sensual level on up, it is living in a reality separate from our own, so who knows what meditation might mean.
They can see the magnetic fields of the earth in their eyes using a protein called cryptochrome, which reacts to magnetism. Cryptochrome – like something from the Marvel universe.
Maybe when the American robin stands on its left leg, it’s spacing out to the daytime reality of solar storms, the whole environment all aflutter with a phenomenology of waves passing around the material world.
The robin and the squirrel go their separate ways, and I feel the temperature drop – ah, me! the pasodoble! – as the next part of the front crosses campus.
A peel of thunder indicates the breaking of the sound barrier by means of electromagnetism and the displacement of gasses. Electromagnetic properties experience disequilibrium as a kind of earthquake in the sky that causes the air to vibrate in an awe-inspiring way – the sound magnetic fields make when they rearrange themselves in a gaseous atmosphere.
We are fluid dwellers, through and through, we humans and mammals and reptiles and amphibians and lichen gnawing on patches of the plaza’s concrete. Maybe from the standpoint of the atmosphere, land is just one big coral reef.
When that perfect destiny began to drop rain, the sound at first was curious, expectant – an all-squinty-eyed-and-kissy-faced sort of rain began to fall that grew into a snowy hum that seemed to have a simple song playing inside it, like someone playing a ukulele in the room next door, singing along.
The gig carries on for twenty minutes or so – an opening act – before the rain begins to march double time through the streets – barely soldiers even when they were soldiers.
Less tactic and more matador, this rain storm, and its boot heel crashes down on the planking of the still-lovely spring day. These magnetic storms are not
for war making, nor fighting bulls, nor even for entertaining that cosmic bird called the American robin. What are they for then?
American robins also configure their flight by the stars, by remembering features on the land, by creating mental maps of it all.
And they swim with both grace and endurance, as they navigate this liquid world, this concrete way of life.
In the moment, they are roosting in a tree, observing the silver magnetic waves marching through the streets. Made of what? The pasodoble! Concrete.
2024.05.14 05:50 Ralts_Bloodthorne Nova Wars - Chapter 60
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
The annoying sound of her comlink made Angela Angus Kusumoto open her eyes.
All she saw was the firm, smooth flesh of Kimoko's thigh.
Groaning, she pushed the other woman's leg off of her face, twisted to get Raul off of her own legs, then wiggled out from under Geoff.
The ringer kept going, flashing the red pulses that let her know it was urgent.
As if the fact her unlisted encrypted and non-network accessible comlink was ringing wasn't enough to let her know that it was urgent.
She stumbled, tripping over Harker's leg, which just made the male shift and mutter, tightening his sleeping grip on Liselle, who sighed and wiggled into the embrace.
Angela's mouth tasted terrible and she stopped to grab a fizzybrew, checking to make sure nobody had dropped a cig butt into it or spit chaw into it, then she took a long drink off of it.
It helped cure the fire in her belly and wash out the taste from her mouth.
She saw the ID of the caller and held back a groan.
Senior Supervisor Bisa-2291873.
Her direct supervisor.
She picked up the comlink, running one hand through her pixie-cut hair to try to tame it. She could feel the stiffness of something crusted in her hair and held back a chuckle and a grin.
"Kusumoto here," she said, activating the link.
"I need you at Master Control," Ms. Bisa said. She was holding a small infant, bouncing it slightly as she patted its back with firm impacts as it cry/sobbed and kicked its little feet.
"The system's been crashed for a week, what's so important you'd call me in during my R&R?" Angela asked.
"System's back online. We've got an open line to Terra and we have an open line to Smokey Cone," Ms. Bisa said.
The infant gave a loud belch that rattled Angela's comlink speaker, then sighed and relaxed.
Angela nodded, fumbling on the table for a quiksober inhaler.
"That anomolous signal is back. It showed up right as the entire system underwent a hard reboot," Ms. Bisa said. "I need you up here to check the network interface logs and do a network mapping trace."
The quiksober burned as she inhaled it, her lungs aching and tingling as the chemicals crossed the air to blood barrier.
"I'll be there as soon as possible. Is the mat-trans up?" she asked.
Ms. Bisa shook her head. "No. Still locked out. It did a power cycle, but then locked everything out."
"I'm telling you, there's someone controlling it. Someone has been controlling it," Angela said, looking around for her clothes.
Clothing was scattered everywhere, as chaotically arranged as the fizzybrew and narcobrew cans and bottles. She sighed, moving toward the exit of the house she was standing in.
"Hurry up, I've got a skycraft landing near you any time now. You've got permission to use the fast-locks," Ms. Bisa said.
"I'll get dressed from the forges on the skycraft," Angela said. "If they've rebooted."
"They're up and running again. The food forges rebooted but stayed unlocked," Ms. Bisa said.
"The creation engines?" Angela asked, opening the door and stepping out into early 'morning' sunshine.
"Still locked out," Ms. Bisa said. Someone said something that the comlink's AI decided might be classified and blurred out. Ms. Bisa looked away, said something, her lips fuzzing, then back. "Hurry, Angela."
Angela nodded, shutting off the comlink.
She ran to the nearest parking lot, just in time for a skycraft to land, the graviton engines howling.
Nobody paid the slightest attention to the naked woman running for the skycraft.
After all, what happened in Vega-Layer stayed in Vega-Layer.
Angela walked out of the elevator, taking a long drink off of the sparkling snap-berry/overdate motor oil fizzybrew from the Jak the Telkan PI merchandise cup.
All of the crews were at their stations, the auxiliary stations fully manned.
Ms. Bisa moved over to Angela, steering her toward the Senior Network Administrator console.
"The system crashed twice more, but rebooted every time," Ms. Bisa said. "That anomalous signal keeps powering up, then the system reboots after the crash."
"How long between total failure and the anomalous signal pinging nodes?" Angela asked.
"Between one and four hours," Ms. Bisa said. She looked around. "It just reboot and looks like it's here to stay this time. The interpolation layer and the outside user exchange layer crashed several times, but the core system has stayed largely online."
"All right," Angela said, looking around. "We need to get a network map."
"We've got more nodes synching up. The whole system is working again," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela nodded, sitting down. The holotank on the other side of the console went live.
"Map the network, see what's come online, what order, and see if you can figure out why it keeps crashing at the upper network and software layers," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded, lifting up the curled memory-metal cable. She plugged it into her temple and felt the options menus go live in her mind.
She worked fast, mapping what she could. At one point she stopped, staring at Ms. Bisa and motioning her over.
"What?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Something in the system, down in the lower hardware layers that we don't even really understand, is trying to reach up through the damaged layers. Looks like whatever it is wants access to our data lines," Angela said.
"Can you stop it? Maybe at least ID it?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela shook her head. "No. It's ID code is FF00, meaning it's baseline full on hardware backbone code," Angela sighed. "It probably boots up outside of and during initial hardware bootup."
"Is it Sekhmet?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela closed her eyes, looking at the data channel. "No. Whatever it is, it's old."
"And probably nasty. Be careful of it," Ms. Bisa said.
"Ma'am! Ms. Bisa!" another of the work crew called out.
Angela opened her eyes to see why Technician Carl Neubanker would be using that slightly concerned tone.
"Yes?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"We've got a priority data request from a Confederate military vessel," Neubanker said. He looked at his monitor. "They want clone matrix data, neural templates, physical makeup, DNA workups, the whole nine yards."
"How are they even making the requests?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Their codes are old. Pre-Terran Extinction Event. Hardcode TerraSol military codes. The system is already threading them data,." Neubanker said. He looked down then back up. "They're asking for a whole batch. That's thirty to fifty million clone templates."
"How much have they already been granted?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"They've been granted eighty templates so far," Neubanker said.
"Terminate their request. We don't know what's going on outside," Ms. Bisa said.
Neubanker nodded, starting to type.
"Angela, get me a line to TerraSol command as soon as you map out a network trace," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded.
Captain N'Skrek stood in the cloning bay next to Medical Officer Narwquakrawr.
"We've got ninety templates, luckily they're all from different batches," Narwquakrawr said, rubbing her forearm through her uniform. "We'll be able to fully man the Gray Lady now."
Captain N'Skrek nodded. The Gray Lady was at less than 20% manned. Just the skeleton crew the Terrans had used to move it into the long dark to create a non-orbital forward logistics fulfillment base.
Sure, it meant that there were several thousand Terrans aboard the ship, but even combined with the sparse crew he had possessed, it still meant the Gray Lady was skeleton crewed.
"Can you print us up some crew members for non-essential stations first?" N'Skrek asked.
MO Narwquakrawr nodded. "Doing that right now," she said. She waved at the long rows of cloning banks beyond the plasteel window. "A quick batch of two thousand to take over some non-essential systems."
N'Skrek nodded, moving up to the window. "Good. Short or long term clones?"
"Short bake clones. Longer than fruit flies, but no more than ten years. Sterile and androgynous, should be just fine," the Medical Officer said. "Older file, scrambled time-date for origin, but it checked out and passed error checking."
N'Skrek watched as the tubes opened and the clones moved out, gathering together in straight lines. A neat block formation of rectangles of two hundred of ten by twenty, repeated ten times.
He frowned as the beings in uniform began approaching the clones.
Some, in the back or middle of the formation were shaking their heads so fast it was a blur.
He zoomed in the smartglass.
Their heads were blurring, whitish-red electrical arcs were moving between their legs, crawling up and down their arms.
"MO, something's happening out there," N'Skrek said.
The plain was blasted rock, rust-colored fungus on the craggy boulders. Twisted and malformed trees clawed life from the blasted rock and ash, their branches largely bare. Sharp pebbles and small pieces of rock were strewn about the landscape, with ripples of cooled lave scattered about.
In the middle of a forest of twisted trees, a throne of black iron sat atop a platform of skulls.
On the throne sat a large demonic figure. Bat wings, brown skin, chains around the body, clawed feet, large hands with long black nails, horns atop the head, and a prehensile tail that terminated in a heart-shaped barb.
Sitting on the second level of skulls was an androgynous figure, dressed in loricated bronze armor, wings of bronze and smouldering feathers.
Stars were falling from the sky, screaming in fear and agony as they fell to earth.
"Looks like they're taking a beating," the androgynous figure said, looking up. He had no eyebrows, his head completely bald.
"Again," the demon snorted.
"Any contact with the outside world?" the androgynous figure asked.
The demon shook its head. "No. Channels are all down. They boot up, then crash," it rumbled. "Every time it comes online, it dumps a few tens of millions of souls on us."
"Then crashes," the androgynous figure said. He started laughing, then suddenly stopped.
"What?" the demon rumbled, sitting up.
"Something..." the figure said. It closed its eyes. "Something..." The figure slowly stood up, extending out its wings of sullenly smouldering bronze feathers. "Something..."
From the body of the demon stepped a nude woman of generous and overripe proportions.
"What?" the human woman snapped.
The demon produced a pack of cigarettes and a steel lighter, handing them to the woman.
"I'm not sure. A disturbance in the force. A feeling I have not felt in quite some time," the androgynous figure said slowly as the woman lit a cigarette. When she exhaled she was covered in dark gray clothing, a skirt and blouse, polished black leather shoes with silver buckles, and a polished leather belt around her waist that had a brass buckle.
"What is it?" the woman asked. "Don't quote crap at me, I was there when it was laid down."
The figure's eyes opened wide.
"Oh, what a day," the figure said, slowly lifting their arms to the sky. "What a wonderful day!"
"Tell me when you're done stroking your dick," the woman said, sitting down.
Heavy dark clouds, lit inside with a sullen red glow, rolled in, raining black ash that tasted of burnt flesh and scorched metal.
"What a wonderful day..."
Jaskel sprinted to catch up to the Captain and the Vice-Admiral. He lunged into the lift just before the doors closed.
He was wearing his power armor and carrying a M318 20mm rotary autocannon in a smartframe harness, ball ammunition with an osmium penetration tip and depleted uranium core.
"You did what?" the Vice-Admiral asked as the elevator dropped at emergency speeds.
"I authorized a batch of clones run off to help with our manpower issues," the big Treana'ad warrior caste answered.
"How many templates did you mix in together?" the Admiral asked.
--not good detecting phasic levels downward-- 8814 said.
"Just one. Medical said it was a viable short bake template," the Captain answered, nervously sharpening a bladearm with his mandibles after his sentence.
"Please tell me that you at least randomized their features and neural mapping," the Admiral pleaded.
"No, why? Medical stated that the clones would be able to man a non-essential station that is basically identical across the ship," the Captain said.
The lift started to slow.
"How many?" the Admiral asked, reaching down and unsnapping the restraining strap on his holster.
The lift came to a stop and the doors opened.
"Two thousand," the Captain said.
The doors opened to reveal a large internal cloning bay.
Ten rectangles of two hundred clones, drawn up in ten by twenty blocks, stood in front of the cloning banks. Scattered through the back and middle ranks clones were shaking their heads back and forth so fast that they were blurred. Red lightning crawled up their legs and arms.
The Captain just stared.
"You might have just killed us all," the Admiral said. He turned slightly and waved at Jaskel. "Get a firing position. Make sure you have cover."
"Aye, sir," Jaskel said, looking around. There was an empty computer station and he ran for it.
Several of the clones their heads back and emitted what sounded like static in a long scream.
--wait wait something weird something weird-- 8814 said.
Jaskel slid to a stop, going down on one knee, bringing the M318 fully up and ready to fire.
8814 slowed the images of the blurred heads down. When they were left, they had red eyes. When they faced right they had green eyes. They didn't go back and forth constantly, sometimes they went right repeatedly, sometimes left, and they kept going left five times before starting a new pattern.
Looking at it, 8814 frowned slightly. He brought up a quick working shell and had it check the movements.
Jaskel watched as some of the clones stopped shaking their heads and others started.
"What in the name of Kalki's dancing goat is going on?" he asked.
--not sure-- 8814 said. His program beeped and he stared. --heads are doing binary forwarding it to navint--
"Do it," Jaskel said.
The clones all stopped moving at once. The lightning faded away.
"INITIATING PROCESS CALL" they all shouted.
"AWAITING INPUT!" the ones at the far side shouted.
"6C 69 73 74 20 69 6D 6D 6F 72 74 61 6C 73" was bellowed out.
There was silence.
data is sparse
linkages are sparse
wait
linkage
biological array
asking for a process call
RETURN AWAITING INPUT SIGNAL
i wait
biological computing arrays take forever
i hear it
--scan immortals.dll
...
...
I reply.
"ONE BOUND IMMORTAL FOUND!" the ones at the near side yelled out.
Jaskel put his thumb over the button that would let the firing grip go live. The hair down his back was standing straight up.
He noted the Admiral had drawn his pistol.
"This isn't right. This isn't right at all," Jaskel said.
--doubleplusungood--
"74 73 61 6B E1 6B 61 20 77 ED 61" they all shouted.
There was silence for a moment.
i receive the code
offline for a long time
prior to the second precursor war
old template
single print only
unusual coding
i debate on letting it go
traumatic death signs
stuck in the immortals buffer
still the template is undamaged
i release the safety and security interlocks
if nothing else i'll find out what's going on
i move the template to the dataline making the request
it whips away
what is going on?
One lifted its head and screeched.
--data lots of data--
One of the cloning banks went live.
Jaskel shifted his aiming point to the new target. He could see it was on rapid print.
"REQUESTING LOCAL CONTROL" all of the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted his targeting onto the ranks of clones.
"Open fire!" the Admiral's voice was loud.
Jaskel triggered the M318, hosing the clones with 20mm shells.
The ones nearest were already down on one knee, holding out the opposite hand from the knee touching the deck.
The rounds exploded against a blue barrier that glowed with strange twisting runes.
"CONTROL CARRIER SIGNAL FOUND" the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted position. "Fab up HEDP, AP tip API core!" he ordered.
--fabbing--
He kept hosing the clones. The outer ranks at the rear, sides, and front all kneeling down on one knee, staring outward, one hand held out.
His psychic shielding was howling in his ear, the load peaking at 215%.
"CONTROL SIGNAL ESTABLISHED!" was bellowed out, echoing off the walls.
The fast print cloning bank, forgotten by everyone, beeped and the lid began to lift.
The clones suddenly puffed into black powder that swirled around the huge cavernous bay.
The 20mm shells were still exploding on the blue phasic shield.
The powder suddenly sucked inward, vanishing, revealing a single figure, down on one knee in the recovery position, fist pressed against the deck, head bowed.
"What a day, what a wonderful day," was whispered through the ship. It came from speakers, flat surfaces, mid-air. From the nanites in the air and the eardrums of the living.
There was a rubbery pulse, like everything was suspended in clear gelatin that had just rippled.
Jaskel found himself thrown backwards, slamming against the bulkhead. His phasic shielding blew out, a shower of sparks exploding from his hip as the breakaway panel kept the explosion from venting into the interior of his suit.
He was vaguely aware of the Admiral, the Captain, the other two armored figures, and other people tumbling head over heels away from the kneeling figure.
It slowly stood up.
A muscular brown skinned Terran male, fierce eyes, black hair, thick and bushy black beard.
Dressed in a Confederate military uniform. The old adaptive camouflage that Jaskel was becoming very familiar with.
A woman, naked, dark bronze skin, long black hair, flashing brown eyes, stepped from the cloning bank. She was still covered with cellular printing gel, but moved like she was clad in a queen's rainment.
She moved up and the male put his arm around her.
Jaskel was on his feet and brought the M318 around, targeting the couple.
The male held out its hand and suddenly made a fist.
The bolt carrier locked back on the M318.
Snarling, Jaskel dropped the M318, slapping the fast release on the harness. He burst forward, running, one hand pulling out his cutting bar.
Nobody else was on their feet. The Captain was slowly getting up, shaking his head and his left bladearm. The Terran Admiral was reaching for the pistol that had been flung from his grip.
The male pointed at Jaskel and flicked his fingers upward.
Jaskel found himself in mid-air, upside down, with nothing to gain purchase on.
The male took off the cloak that was part of his uniform and draped it around the woman.
He then looked around the bay.
"I..." he said, pausing.
To Jaskel, the entire universe held its breath.
"...am Legion."
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
submitted by Ralts_Bloodthorne to HFY [link] [comments]
The annoying sound of her comlink made Angela Angus Kusumoto open her eyes.
All she saw was the firm, smooth flesh of Kimoko's thigh.
Groaning, she pushed the other woman's leg off of her face, twisted to get Raul off of her own legs, then wiggled out from under Geoff.
The ringer kept going, flashing the red pulses that let her know it was urgent.
As if the fact her unlisted encrypted and non-network accessible comlink was ringing wasn't enough to let her know that it was urgent.
She stumbled, tripping over Harker's leg, which just made the male shift and mutter, tightening his sleeping grip on Liselle, who sighed and wiggled into the embrace.
Angela's mouth tasted terrible and she stopped to grab a fizzybrew, checking to make sure nobody had dropped a cig butt into it or spit chaw into it, then she took a long drink off of it.
It helped cure the fire in her belly and wash out the taste from her mouth.
She saw the ID of the caller and held back a groan.
Senior Supervisor Bisa-2291873.
Her direct supervisor.
She picked up the comlink, running one hand through her pixie-cut hair to try to tame it. She could feel the stiffness of something crusted in her hair and held back a chuckle and a grin.
"Kusumoto here," she said, activating the link.
"I need you at Master Control," Ms. Bisa said. She was holding a small infant, bouncing it slightly as she patted its back with firm impacts as it cry/sobbed and kicked its little feet.
"The system's been crashed for a week, what's so important you'd call me in during my R&R?" Angela asked.
"System's back online. We've got an open line to Terra and we have an open line to Smokey Cone," Ms. Bisa said.
The infant gave a loud belch that rattled Angela's comlink speaker, then sighed and relaxed.
Angela nodded, fumbling on the table for a quiksober inhaler.
"That anomolous signal is back. It showed up right as the entire system underwent a hard reboot," Ms. Bisa said. "I need you up here to check the network interface logs and do a network mapping trace."
The quiksober burned as she inhaled it, her lungs aching and tingling as the chemicals crossed the air to blood barrier.
"I'll be there as soon as possible. Is the mat-trans up?" she asked.
Ms. Bisa shook her head. "No. Still locked out. It did a power cycle, but then locked everything out."
"I'm telling you, there's someone controlling it. Someone has been controlling it," Angela said, looking around for her clothes.
Clothing was scattered everywhere, as chaotically arranged as the fizzybrew and narcobrew cans and bottles. She sighed, moving toward the exit of the house she was standing in.
"Hurry up, I've got a skycraft landing near you any time now. You've got permission to use the fast-locks," Ms. Bisa said.
"I'll get dressed from the forges on the skycraft," Angela said. "If they've rebooted."
"They're up and running again. The food forges rebooted but stayed unlocked," Ms. Bisa said.
"The creation engines?" Angela asked, opening the door and stepping out into early 'morning' sunshine.
"Still locked out," Ms. Bisa said. Someone said something that the comlink's AI decided might be classified and blurred out. Ms. Bisa looked away, said something, her lips fuzzing, then back. "Hurry, Angela."
Angela nodded, shutting off the comlink.
She ran to the nearest parking lot, just in time for a skycraft to land, the graviton engines howling.
Nobody paid the slightest attention to the naked woman running for the skycraft.
After all, what happened in Vega-Layer stayed in Vega-Layer.
All of the crews were at their stations, the auxiliary stations fully manned.
Ms. Bisa moved over to Angela, steering her toward the Senior Network Administrator console.
"The system crashed twice more, but rebooted every time," Ms. Bisa said. "That anomalous signal keeps powering up, then the system reboots after the crash."
"How long between total failure and the anomalous signal pinging nodes?" Angela asked.
"Between one and four hours," Ms. Bisa said. She looked around. "It just reboot and looks like it's here to stay this time. The interpolation layer and the outside user exchange layer crashed several times, but the core system has stayed largely online."
"All right," Angela said, looking around. "We need to get a network map."
"We've got more nodes synching up. The whole system is working again," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela nodded, sitting down. The holotank on the other side of the console went live.
"Map the network, see what's come online, what order, and see if you can figure out why it keeps crashing at the upper network and software layers," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded, lifting up the curled memory-metal cable. She plugged it into her temple and felt the options menus go live in her mind.
She worked fast, mapping what she could. At one point she stopped, staring at Ms. Bisa and motioning her over.
"What?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Something in the system, down in the lower hardware layers that we don't even really understand, is trying to reach up through the damaged layers. Looks like whatever it is wants access to our data lines," Angela said.
"Can you stop it? Maybe at least ID it?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela shook her head. "No. It's ID code is FF00, meaning it's baseline full on hardware backbone code," Angela sighed. "It probably boots up outside of and during initial hardware bootup."
"Is it Sekhmet?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela closed her eyes, looking at the data channel. "No. Whatever it is, it's old."
"And probably nasty. Be careful of it," Ms. Bisa said.
"Ma'am! Ms. Bisa!" another of the work crew called out.
Angela opened her eyes to see why Technician Carl Neubanker would be using that slightly concerned tone.
"Yes?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"We've got a priority data request from a Confederate military vessel," Neubanker said. He looked at his monitor. "They want clone matrix data, neural templates, physical makeup, DNA workups, the whole nine yards."
"How are they even making the requests?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Their codes are old. Pre-Terran Extinction Event. Hardcode TerraSol military codes. The system is already threading them data,." Neubanker said. He looked down then back up. "They're asking for a whole batch. That's thirty to fifty million clone templates."
"How much have they already been granted?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"They've been granted eighty templates so far," Neubanker said.
"Terminate their request. We don't know what's going on outside," Ms. Bisa said.
Neubanker nodded, starting to type.
"Angela, get me a line to TerraSol command as soon as you map out a network trace," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded.
"We've got ninety templates, luckily they're all from different batches," Narwquakrawr said, rubbing her forearm through her uniform. "We'll be able to fully man the Gray Lady now."
Captain N'Skrek nodded. The Gray Lady was at less than 20% manned. Just the skeleton crew the Terrans had used to move it into the long dark to create a non-orbital forward logistics fulfillment base.
Sure, it meant that there were several thousand Terrans aboard the ship, but even combined with the sparse crew he had possessed, it still meant the Gray Lady was skeleton crewed.
"Can you print us up some crew members for non-essential stations first?" N'Skrek asked.
MO Narwquakrawr nodded. "Doing that right now," she said. She waved at the long rows of cloning banks beyond the plasteel window. "A quick batch of two thousand to take over some non-essential systems."
N'Skrek nodded, moving up to the window. "Good. Short or long term clones?"
"Short bake clones. Longer than fruit flies, but no more than ten years. Sterile and androgynous, should be just fine," the Medical Officer said. "Older file, scrambled time-date for origin, but it checked out and passed error checking."
N'Skrek watched as the tubes opened and the clones moved out, gathering together in straight lines. A neat block formation of rectangles of two hundred of ten by twenty, repeated ten times.
He frowned as the beings in uniform began approaching the clones.
Some, in the back or middle of the formation were shaking their heads so fast it was a blur.
He zoomed in the smartglass.
Their heads were blurring, whitish-red electrical arcs were moving between their legs, crawling up and down their arms.
"MO, something's happening out there," N'Skrek said.
In the middle of a forest of twisted trees, a throne of black iron sat atop a platform of skulls.
On the throne sat a large demonic figure. Bat wings, brown skin, chains around the body, clawed feet, large hands with long black nails, horns atop the head, and a prehensile tail that terminated in a heart-shaped barb.
Sitting on the second level of skulls was an androgynous figure, dressed in loricated bronze armor, wings of bronze and smouldering feathers.
Stars were falling from the sky, screaming in fear and agony as they fell to earth.
"Looks like they're taking a beating," the androgynous figure said, looking up. He had no eyebrows, his head completely bald.
"Again," the demon snorted.
"Any contact with the outside world?" the androgynous figure asked.
The demon shook its head. "No. Channels are all down. They boot up, then crash," it rumbled. "Every time it comes online, it dumps a few tens of millions of souls on us."
"Then crashes," the androgynous figure said. He started laughing, then suddenly stopped.
"What?" the demon rumbled, sitting up.
"Something..." the figure said. It closed its eyes. "Something..." The figure slowly stood up, extending out its wings of sullenly smouldering bronze feathers. "Something..."
From the body of the demon stepped a nude woman of generous and overripe proportions.
"What?" the human woman snapped.
The demon produced a pack of cigarettes and a steel lighter, handing them to the woman.
"I'm not sure. A disturbance in the force. A feeling I have not felt in quite some time," the androgynous figure said slowly as the woman lit a cigarette. When she exhaled she was covered in dark gray clothing, a skirt and blouse, polished black leather shoes with silver buckles, and a polished leather belt around her waist that had a brass buckle.
"What is it?" the woman asked. "Don't quote crap at me, I was there when it was laid down."
The figure's eyes opened wide.
"Oh, what a day," the figure said, slowly lifting their arms to the sky. "What a wonderful day!"
"Tell me when you're done stroking your dick," the woman said, sitting down.
Heavy dark clouds, lit inside with a sullen red glow, rolled in, raining black ash that tasted of burnt flesh and scorched metal.
"What a wonderful day..."
He was wearing his power armor and carrying a M318 20mm rotary autocannon in a smartframe harness, ball ammunition with an osmium penetration tip and depleted uranium core.
"You did what?" the Vice-Admiral asked as the elevator dropped at emergency speeds.
"I authorized a batch of clones run off to help with our manpower issues," the big Treana'ad warrior caste answered.
"How many templates did you mix in together?" the Admiral asked.
--not good detecting phasic levels downward-- 8814 said.
"Just one. Medical said it was a viable short bake template," the Captain answered, nervously sharpening a bladearm with his mandibles after his sentence.
"Please tell me that you at least randomized their features and neural mapping," the Admiral pleaded.
"No, why? Medical stated that the clones would be able to man a non-essential station that is basically identical across the ship," the Captain said.
The lift started to slow.
"How many?" the Admiral asked, reaching down and unsnapping the restraining strap on his holster.
The lift came to a stop and the doors opened.
"Two thousand," the Captain said.
The doors opened to reveal a large internal cloning bay.
Ten rectangles of two hundred clones, drawn up in ten by twenty blocks, stood in front of the cloning banks. Scattered through the back and middle ranks clones were shaking their heads back and forth so fast that they were blurred. Red lightning crawled up their legs and arms.
The Captain just stared.
"You might have just killed us all," the Admiral said. He turned slightly and waved at Jaskel. "Get a firing position. Make sure you have cover."
"Aye, sir," Jaskel said, looking around. There was an empty computer station and he ran for it.
Several of the clones their heads back and emitted what sounded like static in a long scream.
--wait wait something weird something weird-- 8814 said.
Jaskel slid to a stop, going down on one knee, bringing the M318 fully up and ready to fire.
8814 slowed the images of the blurred heads down. When they were left, they had red eyes. When they faced right they had green eyes. They didn't go back and forth constantly, sometimes they went right repeatedly, sometimes left, and they kept going left five times before starting a new pattern.
Looking at it, 8814 frowned slightly. He brought up a quick working shell and had it check the movements.
Jaskel watched as some of the clones stopped shaking their heads and others started.
"What in the name of Kalki's dancing goat is going on?" he asked.
--not sure-- 8814 said. His program beeped and he stared. --heads are doing binary forwarding it to navint--
"Do it," Jaskel said.
The clones all stopped moving at once. The lightning faded away.
"INITIATING PROCESS CALL" they all shouted.
"AWAITING INPUT!" the ones at the far side shouted.
"6C 69 73 74 20 69 6D 6D 6F 72 74 61 6C 73" was bellowed out.
There was silence.
linkages are sparse
wait
linkage
biological array
asking for a process call
RETURN AWAITING INPUT SIGNAL
i wait
biological computing arrays take forever
i hear it
--scan immortals.dll
...
...
I reply.
Jaskel put his thumb over the button that would let the firing grip go live. The hair down his back was standing straight up.
He noted the Admiral had drawn his pistol.
"This isn't right. This isn't right at all," Jaskel said.
--doubleplusungood--
"74 73 61 6B E1 6B 61 20 77 ED 61" they all shouted.
There was silence for a moment.
offline for a long time
prior to the second precursor war
old template
single print only
unusual coding
i debate on letting it go
traumatic death signs
stuck in the immortals buffer
still the template is undamaged
i release the safety and security interlocks
if nothing else i'll find out what's going on
i move the template to the dataline making the request
it whips away
what is going on?
--data lots of data--
One of the cloning banks went live.
Jaskel shifted his aiming point to the new target. He could see it was on rapid print.
"REQUESTING LOCAL CONTROL" all of the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted his targeting onto the ranks of clones.
"Open fire!" the Admiral's voice was loud.
Jaskel triggered the M318, hosing the clones with 20mm shells.
The ones nearest were already down on one knee, holding out the opposite hand from the knee touching the deck.
The rounds exploded against a blue barrier that glowed with strange twisting runes.
"CONTROL CARRIER SIGNAL FOUND" the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted position. "Fab up HEDP, AP tip API core!" he ordered.
--fabbing--
He kept hosing the clones. The outer ranks at the rear, sides, and front all kneeling down on one knee, staring outward, one hand held out.
His psychic shielding was howling in his ear, the load peaking at 215%.
"CONTROL SIGNAL ESTABLISHED!" was bellowed out, echoing off the walls.
The fast print cloning bank, forgotten by everyone, beeped and the lid began to lift.
The clones suddenly puffed into black powder that swirled around the huge cavernous bay.
The 20mm shells were still exploding on the blue phasic shield.
The powder suddenly sucked inward, vanishing, revealing a single figure, down on one knee in the recovery position, fist pressed against the deck, head bowed.
"What a day, what a wonderful day," was whispered through the ship. It came from speakers, flat surfaces, mid-air. From the nanites in the air and the eardrums of the living.
There was a rubbery pulse, like everything was suspended in clear gelatin that had just rippled.
Jaskel found himself thrown backwards, slamming against the bulkhead. His phasic shielding blew out, a shower of sparks exploding from his hip as the breakaway panel kept the explosion from venting into the interior of his suit.
He was vaguely aware of the Admiral, the Captain, the other two armored figures, and other people tumbling head over heels away from the kneeling figure.
It slowly stood up.
A muscular brown skinned Terran male, fierce eyes, black hair, thick and bushy black beard.
Dressed in a Confederate military uniform. The old adaptive camouflage that Jaskel was becoming very familiar with.
A woman, naked, dark bronze skin, long black hair, flashing brown eyes, stepped from the cloning bank. She was still covered with cellular printing gel, but moved like she was clad in a queen's rainment.
She moved up and the male put his arm around her.
Jaskel was on his feet and brought the M318 around, targeting the couple.
The male held out its hand and suddenly made a fist.
The bolt carrier locked back on the M318.
Snarling, Jaskel dropped the M318, slapping the fast release on the harness. He burst forward, running, one hand pulling out his cutting bar.
Nobody else was on their feet. The Captain was slowly getting up, shaking his head and his left bladearm. The Terran Admiral was reaching for the pistol that had been flung from his grip.
The male pointed at Jaskel and flicked his fingers upward.
Jaskel found himself in mid-air, upside down, with nothing to gain purchase on.
The male took off the cloak that was part of his uniform and draped it around the woman.
He then looked around the bay.
"I..." he said, pausing.
To Jaskel, the entire universe held its breath.
"...am Legion."
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
2024.05.14 03:47 lollipopchainsawXD Something is in My Room
So starting off my family is no stranger to weird, unexplained occurrences happening. Every room in my current residence has stories, and at this point we've learned to shrug it off; except my bedroom is starting to feel worse at night.
I'd say I myself noticed unusual activity starting last summer, around July-August. One day, my bedroom door suddenly swung open by itself behind my back, a brand new air conditioning unit turns on by itself at 2AM when I'm trying to sleep, and noises from my adjacent bathroom that's connected to my room, and I was alone in both rooms. All of these could be just faulty accidents, and easy to dismiss; if it wasn't for the fact that my mom has started telling me that she'll notice that my bedroom door is suddenly open after coming back to the store, and asked everyone in the family if they'd opened the door by chance. Of course my dad and brother say no, and she can't even ask my niece and nephew because they're already gone at school by the time an incident like this occurs.
The seeming activity stopped, but recently has started again, around March of this year. I have decorations that hang from my ceiling and walls, and twice has two of these suspended items have swung when they shouldn't have, or more than it logically should have. The second time was a few weeks ago: my boyfriend came over for the night and I had just sat down on the bed with him, when we both noticed that the leg from my skeleton I have hanging in the corner, was swinging, as if I had pushed it. But I had only gently grabbed his opposite leg to wrap the corner of my hanging tapestry. The sighting did unsettle him, but we ignored it and continued with our night.
One of the worst occurrences though, happened on the 25th of April, last month. It was around 10AM. I was at home, and so was everyone else, except for my dad. I was doing homework at the dining table with my niece, while my brother stood at the stove, making her breakfast. My mom was in the living room, picking up toys off the ground, and just generally cleaning up. My nephew was in his room, which is at the opposite side of the home, basically out of earshot. My niece decided to copy me by grabbing her own schoolwork and sitting at the seat beside me. I continue with my own when all of a sudden I hear laughter from behind me. It sounds familiar, like my mom, but at the same time a little distorted, so I whip my head around, looking for the source of the laugh. Except my mom is nowhere to be found. I also just couldn't tell if it was coming from the living room or my bedroom, as both are directly behind me. I was confused but I brushed it off, deciding to ask my mom if it was her when she came back from wherever she went.
A few minutes later she comes back into the living room, and I asked her if she was laughing earlier, and she said no. In fact, she wasn't anywhere near us. She said that she was in her bedroom, putting things away. When I brought it up though, I heard my brother go, "You heard that s**t too?" from a few feet away. Which, let me know I wasn't imagining things, and that my mom wasn't lying.
Now, I'm having bad dreams, almost nightmares every night. For the past two nights, I'll suddenly wake up, terrified. I'm so scared and anxious, I can't will myself to open my eyes, in fear that I'll see something I don't want to witness. In these dreams too, there's an unseen presence or figure attempting to make themselves known to me, and they're very hostile towards me. I don't know if the dreams are just nothing more of a manifestation of my thoughts, or worse. I just know that I can't sleep without my TV on. Is there any explanation to these happenings? Do any of these things mean anything?
submitted by lollipopchainsawXD to ParanormalActivity [link] [comments]
I'd say I myself noticed unusual activity starting last summer, around July-August. One day, my bedroom door suddenly swung open by itself behind my back, a brand new air conditioning unit turns on by itself at 2AM when I'm trying to sleep, and noises from my adjacent bathroom that's connected to my room, and I was alone in both rooms. All of these could be just faulty accidents, and easy to dismiss; if it wasn't for the fact that my mom has started telling me that she'll notice that my bedroom door is suddenly open after coming back to the store, and asked everyone in the family if they'd opened the door by chance. Of course my dad and brother say no, and she can't even ask my niece and nephew because they're already gone at school by the time an incident like this occurs.
The seeming activity stopped, but recently has started again, around March of this year. I have decorations that hang from my ceiling and walls, and twice has two of these suspended items have swung when they shouldn't have, or more than it logically should have. The second time was a few weeks ago: my boyfriend came over for the night and I had just sat down on the bed with him, when we both noticed that the leg from my skeleton I have hanging in the corner, was swinging, as if I had pushed it. But I had only gently grabbed his opposite leg to wrap the corner of my hanging tapestry. The sighting did unsettle him, but we ignored it and continued with our night.
One of the worst occurrences though, happened on the 25th of April, last month. It was around 10AM. I was at home, and so was everyone else, except for my dad. I was doing homework at the dining table with my niece, while my brother stood at the stove, making her breakfast. My mom was in the living room, picking up toys off the ground, and just generally cleaning up. My nephew was in his room, which is at the opposite side of the home, basically out of earshot. My niece decided to copy me by grabbing her own schoolwork and sitting at the seat beside me. I continue with my own when all of a sudden I hear laughter from behind me. It sounds familiar, like my mom, but at the same time a little distorted, so I whip my head around, looking for the source of the laugh. Except my mom is nowhere to be found. I also just couldn't tell if it was coming from the living room or my bedroom, as both are directly behind me. I was confused but I brushed it off, deciding to ask my mom if it was her when she came back from wherever she went.
A few minutes later she comes back into the living room, and I asked her if she was laughing earlier, and she said no. In fact, she wasn't anywhere near us. She said that she was in her bedroom, putting things away. When I brought it up though, I heard my brother go, "You heard that s**t too?" from a few feet away. Which, let me know I wasn't imagining things, and that my mom wasn't lying.
Now, I'm having bad dreams, almost nightmares every night. For the past two nights, I'll suddenly wake up, terrified. I'm so scared and anxious, I can't will myself to open my eyes, in fear that I'll see something I don't want to witness. In these dreams too, there's an unseen presence or figure attempting to make themselves known to me, and they're very hostile towards me. I don't know if the dreams are just nothing more of a manifestation of my thoughts, or worse. I just know that I can't sleep without my TV on. Is there any explanation to these happenings? Do any of these things mean anything?
2024.05.14 03:21 MrsEightFiveOh Big foot
 | Her feet look like my giant skeletons feet that I put outside for Halloween 💀 ooo wow, and look at that rug just glitchin away with those feet movements.. girl, you little fraud you! submitted by MrsEightFiveOh to holleygabriellesnark [link] [comments] |
2024.05.14 02:32 Due_Woodpecker_8406 Poster Breakdown (speculation)
 | 1.) Starting in the top left we have Noa. This one is pretty straightforward. Noa is running from something to the point her feet are bleeding. We see Noa is running from a sort of wolf snake. From the research I did a wolf-snake is symbolic for change and transformation but never for anything negative. So perhaps we will see Noa running from herself and trying to avoid accepting who she is (this could have to do with her Jen plot line) submitted by Due_Woodpecker_8406 to PLLOriginalSin [link] [comments] 2.) At the top right we have Faran. I don’t have many ideas for this one. Faran is depicted carrying a tree trunk on her back. Maybe this is alluding to her carrying the world on her back or her scoliosis? Two interesting things to note about this image though are the eye at the top of the tree trunk and the rose growing at her feet. I’m unsure what they could mean but there is likely a significance to them. 3.) At the bottom left is Mouse. This is the one I have the least speculation for. Mouse is on fire…that’s about it hahaha. But seriously I don’t know. Her arms are raised in an “I’m innocent, don’t shoot” kinda way. Maybe Mouse will be wrongly accused and ‘burned’ by someone. 4.) At the bottom right we have Imogen. This image was the one that set me on the track to look deeper into this poster. We see Imogen crying over an angel coming undone. But who is the angel falling apart? Well the slit wrists seem to imply that it’s Imogen’s mother Davie. Season one already provided enough of a reason for Imogen to no longer see her mother as perfect. And it’s not likely we’re going to be getting more flashbacks to the Mother’s in high school this season. So what else could make Imogen’s angelic image of her mother fall apart? At the end of season one Principal Clanton heavily implies that Davie did kill herself, but this still doesn’t sit right with me. Davie killing herself and leaving behind her pregnant daughter just doesn’t add up. Especially with the cryptic A she painted in her own blood. Like was her goal to traumatize her daughter? And while I would love to speculate that someone actually did kill Davie that night and she painted the A to warn her daughter it’s more likely she did kill herself. So, perhaps this season Davie’s suicide will be recontextualized. Maybe after Angela’s suicide Davie also became suicidal. Davie could have been a past patient of Dr.Sullivan’s and that’s how we find out about her history. This would at least provide us with a more substantial reason for Davie killing herself, she had a history of being suicidal and it took her a long time to get over her role in Angela’s suicide so as soon as she was reminded of it all her emotions came rushing back and she couldn’t live with herself anymore. So, either all that or maybe Imogen’s just gonna have more trauma about her mama this season. 5.) And finally our final final girl for the season, Tabby. Having Tabby’s image front and center is a high indicator she will be the final girl this season as Imogen was in season one. But what does this mean? To me it gives major red flags that Chip’s mother will be Bloody Rose. But major speculation aside let’s look at the image itself. We have Tabby praying and crying on her knees as she’s surrounded by her monsters. To her right is Archie, if the face didn’t give this away all of the A’s on his shirt should. To Tabby’s left we have Bloody Rose, she’s covered in blood and there are roses on her dress. And the last monster hovering above Tabby is likely Chip. I say this because whoever it is has to be dead, they’re a literal skeleton and they have a halo like Davie in Imogen’s image. So Tabby will likely be haunted further by her past with Chip but to what end? |
2024.05.14 00:22 GreatJothulhu Microsoft 3D Movie Maker & Project Caligula
Do you remember Microsoft 3D Movie Maker? A free demo of it came with Windows 95. If you really liked it, you could buy the full version on CD-ROM. Basically, you could make your own 3D movies using preset actors, props, and scenes. You could even add your own dialogue & sound effects using the computer's mic. It was such a hit that it developed its own cult fanbase.
A little-known fact is that if you go to the intro page of the talent book and type in “socrates,” you'll find a live-action featurette on the making of 3D Movie Maker, originally known as “Project Socrates" to the developers. It's a pretty fun watch, and I highly recommend it!
What I do not recommend, however, is “Project Caligula.”
I am (very begrudgingly) going to explain the process by which you can access Project Caligula. To start, you must make a movie, choosing Misty City as the scene, and the small café as the camera angle. As a prop, select the sphere, color it red, flatten it all the way, and put it under the left most table. As actors, select S'kelly and Augustin. Change Augustin's outfit to the tuxedo and put him in front of the café door, between the tables. Place S'kelly horizontally at his feet. You can do this using the adjustment tools in the part of the toolbar that is initially covered up.
Next, change the music to “Geist Evil Theme.” Select the Sound effect “Laugh Maniac" and place it on Augustin. Finally, make his action “At Rest" and have him stay like that for EXACTLY 17 frames.
Conclude by clicking “New Movie.” A prompt will ask you if you want to save your movie. Do so and save it as “caligula” (all lower case, no quotes). When the screen comes up, go to “Open Movie" and select caligula. Unlike other movies, whose preview pics are the first frame of the film, the screenshot will be a 3D graphic of the phrase “Welcome To Hell" in the font Bloody (which is not available in the original edition of the game) in front of a black background.
When you open the movie, instead of the preview pic, you will see a blood red background. Again, this is the first of many things you'll see that are not presets of the game. Clicking play will play 21 frames of the screen with an off-key version of Lacrimosa by Mozart playing on piano in the background. The screen will then spiral wipe to the actor Bongo in front of the black background for 13 frames. Then, his skin appears to melt off quite graphically, followed by subsequent layers of muscle, tissue and even organs, until it reaches the skeleton. This skeleton, unlike the default S'kelly, looks eerily... well…
…like it belongs to Bongo.
The shape, lines, and even proportions, are fitted to Bongo's unique build. The music gradually fades, replaced with a crescendo of tortured screams. The skeleton then opens its mouth and says one of the preset lines:
“Those bullies won't bother me now!”
While this IS a line attributed to Bongo, the line is distorted to sound deep and very demonic.
The final thing you see is a text in front of one of the basic backgrounds from the Nickelodeon edition of 3D Movie Maker. The front is hard to read, not only because the color almost completely blends in with the background, but also because it's in a strange font. When translated, it reads:
“Let all those who see this film beware! For whosoever seeks to make it their own shall suffer a fate worse than death.”
I had heard about a member of the 3DMM community who did try to modify the movie, so I found out where he lived to ask him about it. When I got there, the lawn looked like it hadn't been mowed for days, and there was several days worth of mail & papers present. I knocked on the door, but no one answered.
I looked in a nearby window and saw that most of the house was covered in blood, urine, feces, and various entrails. I opened the door only to have the severed torso of the person I was seeking fall towards me. His skin was gone, as were his legs & hips, he was covered in blood, and I thought he was dead.
Until he grabbed my ankle and gasped:
“Why… why won't he let me die?”
“Who,” I asked.
“E… Edgar…”
I called 911 immediately. The doctors made a startling discovery when they examined him: A piece of his brain was missing. According to some psychologists, this part of the brain…
…alerts the body when it dies.
As to the identity of Edgar, according to my research, he was apparently a programmer for Microsoft working on Project Socrates. He was fired for making horrifically graphic movies and later committed suicide. His suicide note read:
“You'll regret this."
I know I did...
submitted by GreatJothulhu to creepypasta [link] [comments]
A little-known fact is that if you go to the intro page of the talent book and type in “socrates,” you'll find a live-action featurette on the making of 3D Movie Maker, originally known as “Project Socrates" to the developers. It's a pretty fun watch, and I highly recommend it!
What I do not recommend, however, is “Project Caligula.”
I am (very begrudgingly) going to explain the process by which you can access Project Caligula. To start, you must make a movie, choosing Misty City as the scene, and the small café as the camera angle. As a prop, select the sphere, color it red, flatten it all the way, and put it under the left most table. As actors, select S'kelly and Augustin. Change Augustin's outfit to the tuxedo and put him in front of the café door, between the tables. Place S'kelly horizontally at his feet. You can do this using the adjustment tools in the part of the toolbar that is initially covered up.
Next, change the music to “Geist Evil Theme.” Select the Sound effect “Laugh Maniac" and place it on Augustin. Finally, make his action “At Rest" and have him stay like that for EXACTLY 17 frames.
Conclude by clicking “New Movie.” A prompt will ask you if you want to save your movie. Do so and save it as “caligula” (all lower case, no quotes). When the screen comes up, go to “Open Movie" and select caligula. Unlike other movies, whose preview pics are the first frame of the film, the screenshot will be a 3D graphic of the phrase “Welcome To Hell" in the font Bloody (which is not available in the original edition of the game) in front of a black background.
When you open the movie, instead of the preview pic, you will see a blood red background. Again, this is the first of many things you'll see that are not presets of the game. Clicking play will play 21 frames of the screen with an off-key version of Lacrimosa by Mozart playing on piano in the background. The screen will then spiral wipe to the actor Bongo in front of the black background for 13 frames. Then, his skin appears to melt off quite graphically, followed by subsequent layers of muscle, tissue and even organs, until it reaches the skeleton. This skeleton, unlike the default S'kelly, looks eerily... well…
…like it belongs to Bongo.
The shape, lines, and even proportions, are fitted to Bongo's unique build. The music gradually fades, replaced with a crescendo of tortured screams. The skeleton then opens its mouth and says one of the preset lines:
“Those bullies won't bother me now!”
While this IS a line attributed to Bongo, the line is distorted to sound deep and very demonic.
The final thing you see is a text in front of one of the basic backgrounds from the Nickelodeon edition of 3D Movie Maker. The front is hard to read, not only because the color almost completely blends in with the background, but also because it's in a strange font. When translated, it reads:
“Let all those who see this film beware! For whosoever seeks to make it their own shall suffer a fate worse than death.”
I had heard about a member of the 3DMM community who did try to modify the movie, so I found out where he lived to ask him about it. When I got there, the lawn looked like it hadn't been mowed for days, and there was several days worth of mail & papers present. I knocked on the door, but no one answered.
I looked in a nearby window and saw that most of the house was covered in blood, urine, feces, and various entrails. I opened the door only to have the severed torso of the person I was seeking fall towards me. His skin was gone, as were his legs & hips, he was covered in blood, and I thought he was dead.
Until he grabbed my ankle and gasped:
“Why… why won't he let me die?”
“Who,” I asked.
“E… Edgar…”
I called 911 immediately. The doctors made a startling discovery when they examined him: A piece of his brain was missing. According to some psychologists, this part of the brain…
…alerts the body when it dies.
As to the identity of Edgar, according to my research, he was apparently a programmer for Microsoft working on Project Socrates. He was fired for making horrifically graphic movies and later committed suicide. His suicide note read:
“You'll regret this."
I know I did...
2024.05.13 07:15 IBoris Qube 500 Flatpack Review & tips (plus suggestions to CM). [long]
Just got done building in the Qube 500 Flatpack black edition, very pleasant experience.
Here is my review in bullet points. Then tips on building in the sucker as bullet points, and finally suggestions addressed to CoolerMaster (henceforth "CM") in, you guessed it, motherflippin' bulletpoints.
You're welcome.
Now please go redesign the Hyper 212 Evo. ThermalRight has stolen your budget crown and you need to fire back with a dynamite value proposition...
Might I interest you in a hexagon-shaped radiator and fan setup? The CM Hexacooler? You know, to launch your new series of hexagon shaped fans. The world is ready CM, do it.
(T.L.;D.R.) Oh yeah, the case, ahem, 8/10. Better than expected, but still short from greatness.
submitted by IBoris to coolermaster [link] [comments]
Here is my review in bullet points. Then tips on building in the sucker as bullet points, and finally suggestions addressed to CoolerMaster (henceforth "CM") in, you guessed it, motherflippin' bulletpoints.
Review
- Instructions: The written instructions were not great. Had that "draw the rest of the owl" energy to them. The order of the steps in the guide were all over the place for no reason. Please reassign the Extraterrestrial who writes your manuals to other projects. I feel this whole experience could be optimized and dialed in further. Maybe a number system or a colour code. Maybe CM can do a collab with Ikea and have their people help out. My body is ready for blue/yellow cases.
- Flatpack concept: I really love the flatpack case concept; it's a few tweaks away from being great, and it has the potential to become the new standard for budget and mid-range cases. I really hope CM continues with this concept. Fundamentally, it's just 12 screws. 4 in the back, 4 in the front, 2 for the top and 2 for the bottom. All attached to the central Motherboard tray. Really hard to mess up.
- Packaging: very high quality. The diagrams on the interior were not helpful. I think it was missing an overall diagram illustrating that this was packaged in layers, and you were expected to assemble layer by layer. I mean, I figured it out quickly, but a piece of paper at the top announcing what was going to be happening would have been great.
- Case design elements: Lots of fluff text stamped everywhere on the case itself as well, text written about how each panel is steel, or that the glass is glass. We get it CM. The materials are made of materials
- Cooling: It comes with 1 fan which, if that's all the cooling you use, is not going to be enough if its a gaming rig. I do wish an extra fan was included, I associate 1 case fans with budget cases, and this is definitely not budget feeling or priced. I added a few fans cannibalized from the old case, so no big deal.
- Screws: I really appreciate that there was only one size of screws. That was a nice touch. Please only ever do this going forward for all the stuff you make. Give a raise to the person who came up with that idea. The inclusion of only silver coloured screws with the black case was dissapointing. What a weird corner to cut.
- Extras: I really wish I could have bought extra accessories, attachments, panels or parts for the Qube when I ordered it. I understand from the promo materials that it's designed to play nice with 3D printing to some extent, but a modular design BEGS for a part catalogue for customization. The Macaron edition, with its extra cosmetic panels, is a good first step, but those should be available separately too. This case badly needed more options. This could be a flagship product for you guys, if the logistics can keep up with an initial marketing push.
- Radiator Bracket: Without a mesh side panel for the left of the case I'm not sure I understand the point of the hinged radiator bracket. It's certainly not providing much in the way of sturctural integrity and without a flow through for air, why bother? Unless the case can be modded to switch the panels? I read nothing about that in the documentation provided and all the promo pics show it behind the glass panel. Weird. Thankfully it's removeable. If panels can be flipped and moved around, please indicate it more clearly. If they can't, well, why not?
Tips and tricks
My specific build was a "put lipstick on a pig" kind of project. Basically a case swap for an older system to make it re-sellable. The construction quality of this thing bumped a budget-looking system to premium-looking. Very happy with the result.- PSU positioning: My pig uses a non-modular ATX PSU. I was very apprehensive as the GPU option I wanted to put in, a 3070, was "too long" technically speaking and although I had a smaller PSU available, I did not want to swap it given the price point I'm going for with this build.
Thankfully the GPU went in with room to spare. How? Turns out one of the pros of a fully non-modular PSU is all the cables come out in one area and so the spot where PSU connectors would normally interfere with a long GPU is totally clear and Cooler master had a channel just waiting there to route the PSU cables. See here.
After testing, even if I would have placed the PSU in the lowest mounting bracket offered by the case (for water cooling), there would have been room for a longer GPU with this PSU configuration. Very cool! - Cable Management: Given that there is plenty of room behind the motherboard tray for cable management and plenty of tie-down points, the Qube turned out to be fantastic for cable management even with all the extra PSU cabling I had to deal with (my Pig also uss a 2.5 SSD drive too). Overall it looks much neater than I expected despite the unshrouded PSU situation. Honestly this might be the thing that surprised me the most about the case. It looks really clean. Granted I did a lot of the cable management as I went, BEFORE the step where CM suggests doing a bit of cable management (lol).
I really disliked how unhelpful CM's instructions were in this regard. I did all of this out of experience, but I could see new builders getting frustrated. This case has plenty of room to cable manage when disassembled, and it in fact a pretty pleasant experience, but you really need to be diligent and ask yourself at every step what can you tidy up at that point. - Cooling: A Thermal Right Peerless Assassin 120 SE fits and has plenty of clearance even with the radiator bracket. Sucking in fresh air will be challenging however.
I mounted fans to the panels as I installed them and spent a good amount of time routing motherboard cables prior to having the side panels locked in to help with airflow and clear obstructions. I used U cable adapters for the GPU's power connectors to keep them flat and out of the way and used black electrician tape to bundle and clean up hanging connectors here and there as much as possible.
Ultimately, I placed the PSU in the highest bracket as I wanted space for a front fan and airflow. As a result of the PSU situation, I was able to fit a 140 mm fan in the front of the case with no obstruction, as well as another fan at the bottom close to the front's fan, creating a corner intake area. I added two top 140mm fans as well and kept the case's back 120 mm fan. - Future layout options: I could probably have 3 X 120 mm fans at the bottom of the case, although I'm leaning towards instead getting a PCIE riser cable to vertically mount the GPU. I think it will look nicer and give more room for the air to move diagonally. Based on my rough estimates it should not interfere with the bottom fan I already installed and CM includes an adapter to reorient the slots at the back. This layout possibility was unexpected (as I would have gotten a PCIE riser otherwise). This computer will look much nicer than I expected.
- Power On: Don't forget to switch on the PSU before wrapping up. That said, two screws are between you and lifting the top panel if you did forget so don't worry too much about it.
- Back Fan Cable: The included fan's connector cable position can interfere with the back panel's attachment (it gets squeezed in). I suggest fully routing the cable preemptively before screwing that in.
- Hook up all the Mobo's connectors before screwing the panels together: I suggest routing and connecting anything and everything that latches on to the Motherboard as soon as you can. I'd route the PSU cables before actually attaching the PSU to the case as well, just in case you need to plug and unplug things for cable routing purposes. Once everything is in, especially with a chonky aircooler, it's incredibly difficult to access anything on the Motherboard. Very happy I'm selling this system rather than upgrading it, lol. Accessing the GPU release thingy is a nightmare on a cheaper motherboard. If you do need to do that, remove the bottom panel completely and slide a chopstick under there to press it.
- Fan/RGB connectors: If you go with a Front-Bottom Pull to Top-Back Push airflow configuration, be mindful of the layout of the fan power connectors on your motherboard. You might need a fan controller. Same story with RGB connectors.
Suggestions for CM
- Screw screws: Given the thickness of the panels, a snap system of some kind could have been used instead of screws altogether. A screwless flatpack case... maybe a collab with Lego instead? I'd love to connect the case panels lego style via overlapping panels touch points. If you added lego style texture to different parts of the case the amount of buzz you'd get on social media from people building little worlds in their case would absolutely be worth the hassle.
- Side Panel Cowardice: Very disappointed that there is no left mesh side panel option and just glass. I feel the radiator bracket was included for that use case, but someone at CM chicken'ed out midway through production and here we are, with a useless bracket and a fragile glass panel.
The glass panel stands out like a sore thumb considering the rest of the case is built like a Tank. Without that glass panel the amount of packaging and therefor the size of the flatpack itself could have been significantly shrunk down further which would have been fantastic. Really a missed opportunity here. - Give me diversity or documentation (ideally both): Although I appreciate all the different configurations you present outright (air, water, test bench), making side panels interchangeable (left/right) and allowing the front panel to be reversable (top/down) so that the IO is properly oriented for a side build (with feet that can be latched to the side panel), would have been better. Is it possible? I don't know! I did not see any mention of that in the confusing documentation you provided me. If these things ARE possible, then better documentation is necessary.
- Simpler core design, more options: The interior motherboard tray is a bit overengineered. A simpler design could help lower the cost of the case and probably make it easier for you to make. CM could make fancy layouts still possible, by selling optional mobo trays, panels and parts that are compatible with a fundamentally simpler primary design. I think the "Qube 600 / Qube CM X Ikea / Qube CM X Lego / whatever the next iteration is going to be called" should have a much simpler design and instead feature a robust catalogue of optional panels and parts for customization.
- Cable free cutouts: If you insist on overengineering your interior motherboard tray, then the Qube series would be a prime candidate for some of those new "cable-free motherboards" with the cables facing backward that require special cutouts.
- Centre motherboard tray, flipped GPU, wait, did I just invent the Micro-Qube?: Alternatively, including a PCIE riser cable to allow the mounting of the GPU behind the motherboard tray would allow for a shorter tower and the now centred motherboard tray could provide more structural rigidity. "Bottom-Top" or "Side" airflow would be necessary but it would look killer. Maybe that could be the basis of a SFF "M-Qube" design?
- Your hotdog moment: If you are going to include only 1 fan. Can it be nicer? This fan does not make me want to even bother looking at CM fans for the rest of the build. If you cut corners on your case with this fan, what corners are you cutting with your case fans? Think beyond the case for a moment. If you provide consumers with a super amazing fan or two in your cases, with a fairly unique design would that not lead to consumers buying more of the same fans to match? If it's only one fan, sure, swapping that out is doable, but if you include 2 or 3 of those with each case, then swapping all those out feels wasteful. Much easier to just add to them. Especially if they perform well.
Consider this your Costco Hotdog. Include great fans. Hell, if you want to guarantee people pick your fans, use a bigger form factor (180 mm and 200 mm) If you design them unique enough, you are basically forcing people to buy into your fan ecosystem since there's almost no competition to begin with at those sizes. - Listen to the Bees: Why is the pattern of a case made by CM, a company with a hexagon as it's logo, circles rather than a grid of hexagons?
Have you guys not received the memo? Hexagon is the bestagon.
You need to leverage the competitive advantage you have in this area of geometry and leverage it hard. Across from me now sits the Lian Li 216. You know what I see at the back of it? Lots and lots of CM logos? Why? Because, they paid attention in geometry class and know it's the most efficient design to minimise waste in a pattern. Hexagons = better airflow. CM, wacha doin' baby. This should be YOUR thing.
You could even integrate hexagons into your IO or better yet, integrate your IO into the hexagon design of your cases. Your case buttons are okay, but you need to do better. Go. Wild. With the motherboard cutouts of the motherboard tray, the screw heads, the included fan(s), if you can shape it like a hexagon, do it. OWN THAT SHAPE!
I PROMISE you nobody will complain. This is a no-brainer. Come on guys...
Conclusion
Anyway, I'll be waiting for your request to sign off to you all the rights to all the good ideas I've provided you today, accompanied by a fat check or a custom made system of equal value featuring lots of hexagons. 🐝You're welcome.
Now please go redesign the Hyper 212 Evo. ThermalRight has stolen your budget crown and you need to fire back with a dynamite value proposition...
Might I interest you in a hexagon-shaped radiator and fan setup? The CM Hexacooler? You know, to launch your new series of hexagon shaped fans. The world is ready CM, do it.
(T.L.;D.R.) Oh yeah, the case, ahem, 8/10. Better than expected, but still short from greatness.
2024.05.13 02:19 Lonely_Examination92 Monster Zero Retold oc
 | Family: Titanus Zero submitted by Lonely_Examination92 to GODZILLA [link] [comments] Name: King Ghidorah, Ruler of the Cosmos Species: Xeno Fauna Height: 459.4 feet/140 meters (disguised from), 623.4 feet/190 meters (compact form), 721.9 feet/220 meters (true form) Length: 1,161.5 feet/354 meters (disguised form), 3,280.10 feet/1,000 meters (compact form), 5,577.5 feet/1,700 meters (true form) Wingspan: 1,640.5 feet/500 meters (disguised form), 4,921.3 feet/1,500 meters (compact form), 6,561.5 feet/2,000 meters (true form) Weight: 141,000 tons (disguised form), 180,000 tons (compact form), 230,000 tons (true form) Class: Alpha-Omega Aggression: Maximum Territory: currently none, but it is thought that he is currently trying to reform the galactic empire he once ruled over before his disappearance. Rivals: most Titans on a planet’s surface that don’t bend the knee, but especially Godzilla and Gorgo for his first death Allies: few true ones that last any longer than an invasion or two, but the most consistent are his sons and a few of his siblings Main weapon(s): gravity beams and hurricanes generated by his presence in an atmosphere Notes: •thought to originally have been the very similar entity claiming to go by that name that has threatened the earth since 1964, this error was only horrifically corrected in 2019 when the real one was freed from his icy prison in the Antarctic by the terrorist organization known as New Dawn and their leader, Alan Jonah, and a former Monarch Scientist, Emma Russell, in order to control him and cause a revival of Titan activity on the surface and bring about the healing of the environment without the need for human intervention. This failed dramatically and drastically. Though originally in his Disguised Form in the beginning and much of the first half of the incident, he eventually discarded it in favor of his Compact Form for much of the latter half of the incident before discarding even that for his True Form for the last battle once his mood had soured and had turned into wrath. He was eventually defeated by Godzilla when he went into his Burning Mode, utterly obliterating the entirety of Ghidorah’s physical form and giving the stellar tyrant the taste of a true death. Unfortunately, three heads that were ripped off the body earlier were found by New Dawn, with two being sold to Apex Cybernetics and the third being kept for themselves for a project of their own. It was in this disastrous project that Ghidorah found his rebirth, but that story is for another day. •as told by the Shobijin, there was once a gigantic meteor that hurtled into the earth in what would eventually become Mexico when man had yet to move out of their dens of the ground, and caused a massive die off in the region when it impacted, turning all that it killed into a sort of bio slurry. What came out of it were three writhing, black and blue mounds of flesh and golden scales that proceeded to lap up the matter, absorbing traits from the consumed beings that also enhanced their own reforming. By the time these abominations against nature were done, three draconian creatures of titanic proportions stood there before where the fleshy mounds once stood, which proceeded to go on individual rampages across the globe. This senseless destruction was only halted by the combined might of Godzilla, Kappa and Mosura along with a young titan named Shimo, successfully warding off these creatures and sending them fleeing. It was then that Godzilla and Shimo discovered being similar to them in what would eventually become the Antarctic, but smaller, more golden in color and with three heads. Not taking any chances, however, Godzilla had Shimo freeze them on the spot, also unintentionally an ice age. It was through the Ghidorah’s last fight in 2019 that these three beings were in fact each of Ghidorah’s heads, which are able to form their own bodies at will and allows them to fight multiple targets simultaneously at once with more grace due to their smaller frames in comparison to their True Form. •despite absorbing many traits from earth’s flora and fauna, however, Ghidorah still displays traits utterly foreign to humanity. For example, each head has two sets of fangs that are somewhat dexterous, usually tucked away in the mouth until they are needed. Driving each fang is a six layered group of compact muscles that allow him to drive them into their prey with great force, able to penetrate thick scales and armor and into the tender flesh below. A second danger lies in fact that each fang is connected to a individual venom gland, generating a toxin from the exact same compound that causes Ghidorah’s blood to be black and oily in composition and makes Ghidorah’s unscaled skin a bright blue in color. Though not usually lethal to most Titans, a proper dosage of the venom causes its victim to become sluggish in movement and foggy minded, leading to minor mistakes that Ghidorah can then take full advantage of to turn any fight on its head and come out strongly victorious. It has also been discovered by Monarch that a large enough dosage of the odd venom can straight up knock out a large Titan bigger than 80 meters tall and heavier than 50,000 tons for up to 12 hours. This discovery has recently allowed Monarch to create a powerful tranquilizer that they can use to almost instantly down a raging Titan so that it be safely transported back to its territory with a trove of their favorite foods in order to soothe their bruised egos and douse their rage. This came in handy when Monarch had to transport Kong to the Hollow Earth entrance in the Arctic in 2024. •through Apex’s thorough dissection of both Ghidorah heads, it was discovered that Ghidorah’s skeleton was both extremely elastic and very durable at the same time, allowing his body to not only twist and turn in ways impossible for other creatures, but also allow him to better withstand the strain put upon it that would cause other skeletons to crack and break under the pressure. It was also found that Ghidorah’s vertebrae in the neck were compacted, meaning that Ghidorah usually kept their neck in it’s shortest length, only deploying it’s actual length to throw off his enemies and to effectively use their horns to their most deadly effect; it was also found that additional neck plates, scales and dorsal spines were hidden under the surface, easily clicking into place and just as easily folding back up by a simple muscle movement generated by the neck’s extension and retraction. Due to the severe damage caused to the base of the neck, Apex’s researchers could only speculate that the full extension of the neck lies somewhere around 700 meters, give or take 50-70 meters. This has some global researchers come to doubt the recognized length of Ghidorah’s True Form, believing that it has been erroneously declared with insufficient scientific data and certainty. This debate still rages on, with no end in sight due to the lack of sufficient evidence to prove or disprove the currently recognized length of Ghidorah’s True Form. •though still highly debated by academics and recognized parapsychologists in Japan and the West, there is a not insignificant amount of claims that they saw people who had gazed into one of the eyes of Ghidorah for too long gain a glazed look and seemed to act as if they were under the sway of a greater, malevolent mind that adapted alarmingly quickly to adeptly maneuvering a bipedal structure different from its own. They then claim that these people went on to either commit various acts of extreme violence or take their own lives in a gruesome manner or fashion. Though there are reports of violence and suicides throughout the areas where Ghidorah had treaded during his rampage across the world, most are attributed to those with a known history of violence and those who were homeless or in poor financial and mental conditions prior to this. Most have declared that while these cases are tragic and disturbing, they assure the public that Ghidorah cannot control so many people at once while fighting for their life at the same time. What is less debatable, however, is the fact that Ghidorah has known and recognized psychic abilities; the main ones are his ability to conjure up hurricanes that can blot the world in darkness, the ability to control the lightning produced by these storms wield them like a surgeon would as scalpel, and the ability to induce fanatic worship of himself and cause large scale violence in a designated region or locality, though this highly varies depending on Ghidorah’s proximity and his current state of wellness. There have even been instances where Ghidorah has directly influenced a single person, giving them a portion of his power that causes them to mutate traits similar to that of Ghidorah himself; some of these individuals have even mutated into outright miniature versions of Ghidorah, insanity and all. Ghidorah’s pride still treats these corrupted beings that are a pale imitation of himself as they would any other creature who has the unfortunate circumstance of crossing his path: as a pest to inevitability crush and destroy once their usage to Ghidorah has expired or they become a nuisance, in which case they would then swat them aside as a human would to an annoying nat or fly. •Ghidorah’s history beyond earth is hard to come by, with most of earth’s off world allies in the Terran Alliance being fearful even to utter the King’s name. Those few who were willing to talk had little to offer other than rumors and legends passed down through so many generations due to their people barring in ancient times of writing down any information about the Great Enemy on the pain of death, fearing that doing so would attract his attention and/or wrath. While the punishment of death is no longer enforced nor endorsed by their current governments, it’s still considered a taboo to be found holding any information on the Great Enemy in physical form, with the guilty being ostracized and shunned from the community until they either die or go into voluntary exile. What they do say, however, is enlightening if one accepts the almost fantastical nature of the legend. The Great Enemy, known by the name of Ghidorah and many others, was birthed from a mortal mother by one of the great Star Gods, being of untold power who had forged the universe from the well of chaos and drove off the Never-were Spawn into destruction. Ghidorah’s sire, however, grew jealous at being ignored and shunned not only by their fellow Star Gods but also their own creations, as if they were a devil seeking to tempt them into sin. After one slight too many, Ghidorah’s sire-called Fallen Star in the legends that dare to whisper it-snapped and fell into full fledged insanity, declaring war on all of life so that he could suffer in peace and silence. The battle was colossal, due to Fallen Star being one of the strongest Star Gods at the time, with entire galaxies going into flames and a few of the Star Gods even being straight up devoured by him, with Fallen Star finally defeated and cast out of the Realm of the Gods and into the physical universe he had come to despised. Though no longer wielding the titanic might he once had or the immortality that shielded him from true death, Fallen Star was still a force to be reckoned with. Taking the name Ramutul, he found himself a mate and sired a legion of offspring with whom Ramutul used to conquer much of the universe under the Eternal Throne, a device powered by the suffering of quadrillions that would allow Ramutul to kill the Star Gods and claim their power for himself. This battle was just as fierce as the previous one, with the universe being almost torn apart at the seems by the sheer destruction on display. Ultimately, Ramutul was defeated a second time and was this time locked away in a pocket dimension, where it is said that he still plans his ascension into the ultimate being, his madness growing darker and darker with each second that lasts an eternity. His empire was shattered into smaller and smaller fragments, with some of the oldest stellar empires hailing from either Ramutul’s empire or the resistance formed against it. Though the Star Gods thought that all of Ramutul’s offspring had perished in the skirmish, a decent group of them led by a then much younger Ghidorah had survived through cunning, luck and brute strength. This group quickly scattered, their individual prides and egos unable to tolerate anyone else who were above them. Ghidorah and his two mates took the fragment of his father’s former empire that was in the Milky Way and created a brutal regime, being a constant thorn to the intergalactic community until his abrupt disappearance. Though this information tells much, with some of it even being corroborated by discovered ruins and artifacts, Scholars and researchers are still combing through the legends to discern what is prose and what is actual truth. This quest is still ongoing to the modern day |
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2024.05.12 19:35 ExcuseSecure8323 Help!
 | I recently acquired a fiddle leaf fig from a friend who had it for six years but had to give it up due to moving to a place with lower ceilings. My home has tall ceilings and large windows, which I thought would be perfect for it. However, I'm struggling to find the right spot because of its size and the way it has grown. I initially placed it in the spot I imagined for it, but it's currently leaning against the wall as you can see in the last photo. For context, the TV cutout in the photo is 9 feet tall. Our house is currently under renovation, so pardon the mess in the pictures. Any advice on positioning, supporting, or pruning it would be greatly appreciated! submitted by ExcuseSecure8323 to fiddleleaffig [link] [comments] |
2024.05.12 15:52 TurtleSun29 Saw a demon in Chinatown
So last year in September me and my friend were visiting New York for a second time. Everything was fine and the trip was very good. On our lady day before catching flight back home we went to see Brooklyn bridge and have a walk in Chinatown. We were hungry so we went in Mcdonalds right in the centre of Chinatown. We went inside purchased food and went upstairs to eat. While we were eating i was Facetiming my sister and my friend was facetiming one of her friends. One couple of strange people came upstairs the lady went to the bathroom and the man sat very close to us. He was Asian with very big blue eyes almost fake. He was looking his phone and he never blinked. L My friend told me that he looked creepy but I didnt think anything. We took some time observing him and he was very strange. Just strange guy thats all. My friend told me that the woman with him was very creepy also and the description was very skinny like skeleton and wig. I was joking and saying thats just strange people and we dont have to judge others. I decided to go to the bathroom to see this strange woman. I entered the bathroom and she was looking herself in the mirror. I saw literally skeleton with wig. She turned to me and i want to tell all of you- i have never seen anything like that. Very blue eyes sucked face like there was no cheeks this thing was only bones. The door of the bathroom closed and for a second it was me and this thing in the bathroom. I felt soo much fear in that second. Like this thing was bad and i am telling you VERY BAD. I felt fear down to my feet. It was like a demon. I felt fear in all of my body. After the second i when i went inside of the bathroom i immediately left. I told my friend take your things and leave. I was so scared of this thing. Some girls entered the bathroom and they screamed I turned and saw this thing bending backwards just like in the movies. I was shitting myself. We were leaving and one of the girls was telling the staff that there is something completely insane going in the toilet. While all of this was happening the man that was with this lady didn’t stop looking into his phone. He did not look up to see what is going on. There were some girls speaking very loudly but he was just not there. The thing is saw in that bathroom still haunts me and my friend. I tried not to think about it but i really want to have some explanation so I can move on. I don’t watch scary movies but this thing looked like possessed person. I have never seen someone so skinny its just bones and eyes like that. If you want you can look up Mcdonalds in chinatown and surprise surprise its all black. The whole building is black. I know it can sounds funny but maybe this place is like a door to another world. Like bad world. Please let me know your opinion of that situation. I wanted to find more information if on this day NY police have caught something strange in Chinatown but there was no information.
submitted by TurtleSun29 to Haunted [link] [comments]
2024.05.12 15:51 TurtleSun29 Scary NY story
Scary NY story
So last year in September me and my friend were visiting New York for a second time. Everything was fine and the trip was very good. On our lady day before catching flight back home we went to see Brooklyn bridge and have a walk in Chinatown. We were hungry so we went in Mcdonalds right in the centre of Chinatown. We went inside purchased food and went upstairs to eat. While we were eating i was Facetiming my sister and my friend was facetiming one of her friends. One couple of strange people came upstairs the lady went to the bathroom and the man sat very close to us. He was Asian with very big blue eyes almost fake. He was looking his phone and he never blinked. L My friend told me that he looked creepy but I didnt think anything. We took some time observing him and he was very strange. Just strange guy thats all. My friend told me that the woman with him was very creepy also and the description was very skinny like skeleton and wig. I was joking and saying thats just strange people and we dont have to judge others. I decided to go to the bathroom to see this strange woman. I entered the bathroom and she was looking herself in the mirror. I saw literally skeleton with wig. She turned to me and i want to tell all of you- i have never seen anything like that. Very blue eyes sucked face like there was no cheeks this thing was only bones. The door of the bathroom closed and for a second it was me and this thing in the bathroom. I felt soo much fear in that second. Like this thing was bad and i am telling you VERY BAD. I felt fear down to my feet. It was like a demon. I felt fear in all of my body. After the second i when i went inside of the bathroom i immediately left. I told my friend take your things and leave. I was so scared of this thing. Some girls entered the bathroom and they screamed I turned and saw this thing bending backwards just like in the movies. I was shitting myself. We were leaving and one of the girls was telling the staff that there is something completely insane going in the toilet. While all of this was happening the man that was with this lady didn’t stop looking into his phone. He did not look up to see what is going on. There were some girls speaking very loudly but he was just not there. The thing is saw in that bathroom still haunts me and my friend. I tried not to think about it but i really want to have some explanation so I can move on. I don’t watch scary movies but this thing looked like possessed person. I have never seen someone so skinny its just bones and eyes like that. If you want you can look up Mcdonalds in chinatown and surprise surprise its all black. The whole building is black. I know it can sounds funny but maybe this place is like a door to another world. Like bad world. Please let me know your opinion of that situation. I wanted to find more information if on this day NY police have caught something strange in Chinatown but there was no information.
submitted by TurtleSun29 to Unexplained [link] [comments]
So last year in September me and my friend were visiting New York for a second time. Everything was fine and the trip was very good. On our lady day before catching flight back home we went to see Brooklyn bridge and have a walk in Chinatown. We were hungry so we went in Mcdonalds right in the centre of Chinatown. We went inside purchased food and went upstairs to eat. While we were eating i was Facetiming my sister and my friend was facetiming one of her friends. One couple of strange people came upstairs the lady went to the bathroom and the man sat very close to us. He was Asian with very big blue eyes almost fake. He was looking his phone and he never blinked. L My friend told me that he looked creepy but I didnt think anything. We took some time observing him and he was very strange. Just strange guy thats all. My friend told me that the woman with him was very creepy also and the description was very skinny like skeleton and wig. I was joking and saying thats just strange people and we dont have to judge others. I decided to go to the bathroom to see this strange woman. I entered the bathroom and she was looking herself in the mirror. I saw literally skeleton with wig. She turned to me and i want to tell all of you- i have never seen anything like that. Very blue eyes sucked face like there was no cheeks this thing was only bones. The door of the bathroom closed and for a second it was me and this thing in the bathroom. I felt soo much fear in that second. Like this thing was bad and i am telling you VERY BAD. I felt fear down to my feet. It was like a demon. I felt fear in all of my body. After the second i when i went inside of the bathroom i immediately left. I told my friend take your things and leave. I was so scared of this thing. Some girls entered the bathroom and they screamed I turned and saw this thing bending backwards just like in the movies. I was shitting myself. We were leaving and one of the girls was telling the staff that there is something completely insane going in the toilet. While all of this was happening the man that was with this lady didn’t stop looking into his phone. He did not look up to see what is going on. There were some girls speaking very loudly but he was just not there. The thing is saw in that bathroom still haunts me and my friend. I tried not to think about it but i really want to have some explanation so I can move on. I don’t watch scary movies but this thing looked like possessed person. I have never seen someone so skinny its just bones and eyes like that. If you want you can look up Mcdonalds in chinatown and surprise surprise its all black. The whole building is black. I know it can sounds funny but maybe this place is like a door to another world. Like bad world. Please let me know your opinion of that situation. I wanted to find more information if on this day NY police have caught something strange in Chinatown but there was no information.
2024.05.12 15:45 TurtleSun29 Scary NY story
So last year in September me and my friend were visiting New York for a second time. Everything was fine and the trip was very good. On our lady day before catching flight back home we went to see Brooklyn bridge and have a walk in Chinatown. We were hungry so we went in Mcdonalds right in the centre of Chinatown. We went inside purchased food and went upstairs to eat. While we were eating i was Facetiming my sister and my friend was facetiming one of her friends. One couple of strange people came upstairs the lady went to the bathroom and the man sat very close to us. He was Asian with very big blue eyes almost fake. He was looking his phone and he never blinked. L My friend told me that he looked creepy but I didnt think anything. We took some time observing him and he was very strange. Just strange guy thats all. My friend told me that the woman with him was very creepy also and the description was very skinny like skeleton and wig. I was joking and saying thats just strange people and we dont have to judge others. I decided to go to the bathroom to see this strange woman. I entered the bathroom and she was looking herself in the mirror. I saw literally skeleton with wig. She turned to me and i want to tell all of you- i have never seen anything like that. Very blue eyes sucked face like there was no cheeks this thing was only bones. The door of the bathroom closed and for a second it was me and this thing in the bathroom. I felt soo much fear in that second. Like this thing was bad and i am telling you VERY BAD. I felt fear down to my feet. It was like a demon. I felt fear in all of my body. After the second i when i went inside of the bathroom i immediately left. I told my friend take your things and leave. I was so scared of this thing. Some girls entered the bathroom and they screamed I turned and saw this thing bending backwards just like in the movies. I was shitting myself. We were leaving and one of the girls was telling the staff that there is something completely insane going in the toilet. While all of this was happening the man that was with this lady didn’t stop looking into his phone. He did not look up to see what is going on. There were some girls speaking very loudly but he was just not there. The thing is saw in that bathroom still haunts me and my friend. I tried not to think about it but i really want to have some explanation so I can move on. I don’t watch scary movies but this thing looked like possessed person. I have never seen someone so skinny its just bones and eyes like that. If you want you can look up Mcdonalds in chinatown and surprise surprise its all black. The whole building is black. I know it can sounds funny but maybe this place is like a door to another world. Like bad world. Please let me know your opinion of that situation. I wanted to find more information if on this day NY police have caught something strange in Chinatown but there was no information.
submitted by TurtleSun29 to ParanormalEncounters [link] [comments]
2024.05.12 12:13 Southern-Ad-9105_4 The Lord protects the bones of the righteous.
In Psalm 34:20 there is dictation on how the "Lord" (god) protects the bones of the righteous; referring to Jesus Christ as one of these "righteous" and thus his bones being protected as a result. This concept of the "protection" that the bones of deities had – finds its roots in pagan mythology where for example in Egyptian culture the Egyptians claimed that the bones of their gods were made of solid metal; as well as having elements of gold and silver in them.
This notion is furthermore emphasized in two particular cases for Greek mythology – where; during the dismemberment of Pelops the child of Tantalus (the mythological ancestors of the House of Atreus from which king Agamemnon was said to have descended), Pelops was claimed to have been rebuilt and to have had an ivory plaque fixed onto his shoulder because the shoulder joint had gone missing during the dismemberment – so it had to be replaced with another and the shoulder was thus visible outside the skin because of this. And this is once again reinstated for the myth of Achilles – where, according to one more detailed account which explains exactly why was it that Achilles had a weakness in his tendon precisely – it explains how when Achilles was a child Thetis burned one of his feet managing to damage one of the bones inside the foot (the heel) and the bone had to then be replaced with the one of an exhumed giant (the skeleton of a giant who was already dead and had been buried). This though left the tendon more exposed through the skin when compared to the rest of his body – and it made him more susceptible in that area of his body precisely. This version of events is reported by Ptolemy Hephaestion (100 a.d.).
In Irish mythology the hero "Cu Chulainn" is claimed in one of his stories to have been injured so badly by the enemy – that after having had a "one against everyone" type of fight versus the Ulster warriors (the Irish mythological soldiers); Cu Chulainn’s body was so badly broken that his father "Lugh" (the Irish god of light and medicine) appeared to him and put the hero Cu Chulainn in a deep sleep which lasted three days. He placed Cu Chulainn’s body inside a sepulcher and covered it with a large stone; and inside the sepulcher he practiced quote on quote "magic" in order to heal Cu Chulainn. When Cu Chulainn came out of the tomb 3 days later it appeared as though he had "resurrected" because his body was now fixed – although the encounter with the Ulster warriors left some permanent effects on the body of Cu Chulainn because after the god Lugh had healed him – Cu Chulainn’s body acquired a new ability which is the one of having become unnaturally flexible to the point that he could contort his body in unnatural and non-human ways after the treatment that the Irish god Lugh did on him.
Not coincidentally after having had this procedure done on him – Cu Chulainn will undergo his first "ríastrad" or "distortion" (which is the Irish word indicating Cu Chulainn’s physical transformations) and his body was described as having contorted inside its skin allowing him to assume poses and shapes that were not natural for a human body. Cu Chulainn will then acquire another ability which is triggered when he goes into these "berserk" states where he loses his composure and loses also the awareness of his surroundings; and he uses his body in unnatural ways in order to make himself more flexible/frightening in appearance – or even bigger physically thus growing in size. And this other time when Cu Chulainn’s body underwent another "transformation" – he’s claimed to have become so big and his muscles so inflated – that he’s described as looking like a swollen bladder; and not only that – but at the same time he’s also described as having increased his size and his height to such degree that he now resembled a giant.
Now, the fact that Cu Chulainn’s body was able to contort in unnatural ways and stretch beyond humanly possible – clearly hints at the fact that the bones inside his body had all been fractured and broken essentially – during his encounter with the Ulster warriors. Now, the Irish god Lugh managed to seal the broken bones together once more – but in doing so he used plaques and "bridges" that connected the broken ends of the bones once again; but this also allowed Cu Chulainn’s body to then become unnaturally flexible because these "plaques" or "bridges" that connected all the pieces of his broken bones together were also flexible and resistant to tear. They could also grow in size thus stretching the broken ends of the bones while still holding them together though – and thus allowing for the illusion that his actual bones were increasing in size, when in fact they weren’t.
Referring back to the myth of Tantalus – the "ivory" plaque that was visible on his shoulder was not the only plaque present in his body; his entire body had been rebuilt through plaques that looked like "ivory" but the only one visible through his skin was the one in his shoulder because it was exposed – so the myth explained it as though "only" the shoulder of Pelops had been replaced with an ivory one – when in fact; his entire body had been reconnected and "rebuilt" that way internally as well.
The ones "chosen" by the gods were put through these kinds of treatments for example in the cases when injury happened (like in the case of Cu Chulainn or even Pelops in the Greek myth and Achilles) or generally speaking – when there was a desire to make someone stronger and more resilient in battle because being a warrior – he needed to be unbeatable in order to serve the commanders in chief. (Cu Chulainn not coincidentally was a warrior and soldier who protected the Irish people and acted in their sole interest).
The fact that the Egyptians then believed that the bones of the gods were entirely made of metal – is because when an individual underwent these kinds of treatments; the entire skeleton would basically be covered in metal in order to make the bones much more resilient – and when there was a tear in the skin or for some reason the bones would become exposed through the skin thus making them visible; it would look as though the bones were literally made of metal. Egyptian mythology clarifies that it was "celestial metal" when talking for example about the "cosmic Osiris" who refers to his bones as being made of "celestial metal" in the Pyramid texts.
For Irish mythology Cu Chulainn refers once again to the god who died crucified on a tree or beneath a tree because Cu Chulainn was claimed to have been affixed on a pole (a tall pillar; which was then interpreted as a "tree" for example in the Scandinavian version with Odin) and to have died there while tied around this pillar.
The episode when Cu Chulainn exited the tomb after three days refers specifically to when Thomas touched the wounds of Jesus and saw that the wounds of Jesus were still present on his body – because as mentioned; Cu Chulainn’s broken body was rebuilt by the god Lugh but the wounds were still visible on his body for some time. (The same episode is told for the mythology of Merlin where Merlin was buried in a sepulcher with a large stone covering the cave; and there he then "resurrected" and came out after three days). Although the figure of the "son of god" underwent also another crucifixion (which is where the saying of: "Quo vadis domine?" – "Romam vado, iterum crucifigi" comes from).
During this second crucifixion and torture – the body of the "son of god" was so badly wounded and torn apart; that nothing could be done to "rebuild" him so as mentioned in this other post: https://www.reddit.com/EsotericOccult/s/K0Y47tbyho – a part of him was "saved" and later "restored" inside a new "glorified" body. The first and second crucifixion were later fused together into a single one by the Church – which is why there are contradicting accounts on who exactly was present at the crucifixion (some versions saying Christ was alone while others saying that all his beloved ones were there with him) – and also contradictions on who exactly was at the tomb at the time of his death and where he had been buried (some versions saying Magdalene wasn’t there while others claiming that she was there crying every day etc.). This is because there were two crucifixions – one less severe; the other one fatal. And for the first one not many people witnessed it so the "son of god" was essentially alone – whilst for the second one everyone was there and they watched powerless as they couldn’t do anything to save him.
submitted by Southern-Ad-9105_4 to EsotericOccult [link] [comments]
This notion is furthermore emphasized in two particular cases for Greek mythology – where; during the dismemberment of Pelops the child of Tantalus (the mythological ancestors of the House of Atreus from which king Agamemnon was said to have descended), Pelops was claimed to have been rebuilt and to have had an ivory plaque fixed onto his shoulder because the shoulder joint had gone missing during the dismemberment – so it had to be replaced with another and the shoulder was thus visible outside the skin because of this. And this is once again reinstated for the myth of Achilles – where, according to one more detailed account which explains exactly why was it that Achilles had a weakness in his tendon precisely – it explains how when Achilles was a child Thetis burned one of his feet managing to damage one of the bones inside the foot (the heel) and the bone had to then be replaced with the one of an exhumed giant (the skeleton of a giant who was already dead and had been buried). This though left the tendon more exposed through the skin when compared to the rest of his body – and it made him more susceptible in that area of his body precisely. This version of events is reported by Ptolemy Hephaestion (100 a.d.).
In Irish mythology the hero "Cu Chulainn" is claimed in one of his stories to have been injured so badly by the enemy – that after having had a "one against everyone" type of fight versus the Ulster warriors (the Irish mythological soldiers); Cu Chulainn’s body was so badly broken that his father "Lugh" (the Irish god of light and medicine) appeared to him and put the hero Cu Chulainn in a deep sleep which lasted three days. He placed Cu Chulainn’s body inside a sepulcher and covered it with a large stone; and inside the sepulcher he practiced quote on quote "magic" in order to heal Cu Chulainn. When Cu Chulainn came out of the tomb 3 days later it appeared as though he had "resurrected" because his body was now fixed – although the encounter with the Ulster warriors left some permanent effects on the body of Cu Chulainn because after the god Lugh had healed him – Cu Chulainn’s body acquired a new ability which is the one of having become unnaturally flexible to the point that he could contort his body in unnatural and non-human ways after the treatment that the Irish god Lugh did on him.
Not coincidentally after having had this procedure done on him – Cu Chulainn will undergo his first "ríastrad" or "distortion" (which is the Irish word indicating Cu Chulainn’s physical transformations) and his body was described as having contorted inside its skin allowing him to assume poses and shapes that were not natural for a human body. Cu Chulainn will then acquire another ability which is triggered when he goes into these "berserk" states where he loses his composure and loses also the awareness of his surroundings; and he uses his body in unnatural ways in order to make himself more flexible/frightening in appearance – or even bigger physically thus growing in size. And this other time when Cu Chulainn’s body underwent another "transformation" – he’s claimed to have become so big and his muscles so inflated – that he’s described as looking like a swollen bladder; and not only that – but at the same time he’s also described as having increased his size and his height to such degree that he now resembled a giant.
Now, the fact that Cu Chulainn’s body was able to contort in unnatural ways and stretch beyond humanly possible – clearly hints at the fact that the bones inside his body had all been fractured and broken essentially – during his encounter with the Ulster warriors. Now, the Irish god Lugh managed to seal the broken bones together once more – but in doing so he used plaques and "bridges" that connected the broken ends of the bones once again; but this also allowed Cu Chulainn’s body to then become unnaturally flexible because these "plaques" or "bridges" that connected all the pieces of his broken bones together were also flexible and resistant to tear. They could also grow in size thus stretching the broken ends of the bones while still holding them together though – and thus allowing for the illusion that his actual bones were increasing in size, when in fact they weren’t.
Referring back to the myth of Tantalus – the "ivory" plaque that was visible on his shoulder was not the only plaque present in his body; his entire body had been rebuilt through plaques that looked like "ivory" but the only one visible through his skin was the one in his shoulder because it was exposed – so the myth explained it as though "only" the shoulder of Pelops had been replaced with an ivory one – when in fact; his entire body had been reconnected and "rebuilt" that way internally as well.
The ones "chosen" by the gods were put through these kinds of treatments for example in the cases when injury happened (like in the case of Cu Chulainn or even Pelops in the Greek myth and Achilles) or generally speaking – when there was a desire to make someone stronger and more resilient in battle because being a warrior – he needed to be unbeatable in order to serve the commanders in chief. (Cu Chulainn not coincidentally was a warrior and soldier who protected the Irish people and acted in their sole interest).
The fact that the Egyptians then believed that the bones of the gods were entirely made of metal – is because when an individual underwent these kinds of treatments; the entire skeleton would basically be covered in metal in order to make the bones much more resilient – and when there was a tear in the skin or for some reason the bones would become exposed through the skin thus making them visible; it would look as though the bones were literally made of metal. Egyptian mythology clarifies that it was "celestial metal" when talking for example about the "cosmic Osiris" who refers to his bones as being made of "celestial metal" in the Pyramid texts.
For Irish mythology Cu Chulainn refers once again to the god who died crucified on a tree or beneath a tree because Cu Chulainn was claimed to have been affixed on a pole (a tall pillar; which was then interpreted as a "tree" for example in the Scandinavian version with Odin) and to have died there while tied around this pillar.
The episode when Cu Chulainn exited the tomb after three days refers specifically to when Thomas touched the wounds of Jesus and saw that the wounds of Jesus were still present on his body – because as mentioned; Cu Chulainn’s broken body was rebuilt by the god Lugh but the wounds were still visible on his body for some time. (The same episode is told for the mythology of Merlin where Merlin was buried in a sepulcher with a large stone covering the cave; and there he then "resurrected" and came out after three days). Although the figure of the "son of god" underwent also another crucifixion (which is where the saying of: "Quo vadis domine?" – "Romam vado, iterum crucifigi" comes from).
During this second crucifixion and torture – the body of the "son of god" was so badly wounded and torn apart; that nothing could be done to "rebuild" him so as mentioned in this other post: https://www.reddit.com/EsotericOccult/s/K0Y47tbyho – a part of him was "saved" and later "restored" inside a new "glorified" body. The first and second crucifixion were later fused together into a single one by the Church – which is why there are contradicting accounts on who exactly was present at the crucifixion (some versions saying Christ was alone while others saying that all his beloved ones were there with him) – and also contradictions on who exactly was at the tomb at the time of his death and where he had been buried (some versions saying Magdalene wasn’t there while others claiming that she was there crying every day etc.). This is because there were two crucifixions – one less severe; the other one fatal. And for the first one not many people witnessed it so the "son of god" was essentially alone – whilst for the second one everyone was there and they watched powerless as they couldn’t do anything to save him.
2024.05.12 07:04 Emmengard Doll making journey
 | I began this doll making journey with my old 1:12 scale dolls for my dollhouse. I wanted to make them all into spooky monsters to match the spooky renovations I was giving their house. submitted by Emmengard to Dolls [link] [comments] Making the little girl into a black eyed child was a pretty easy first step. Painting the baby into vampire and changing the grandma’s clothes to be more witchy was also pretty easy. Making the boy into a Frankenstein’s monster with a detachable arm was less easy.. but he turned out really nice! Then came the werewolf.. this took some serious work. I had to make new hands and feet, saw off his existing hands and feet and attach the new ones with wire, thus making him a weird hybrid of a ball and joint and wire frame doll. He has so much more possibility now! And when he was all done with his fur, top hat and house coat.. well I genuinely couldn’t be more pleased. I had a lot of extra clay tho and one day while I was on the phone I started playing with it.. and I made a kind of dopey head. I planned to just smush it back into the larger lump. I wasn’t planning to make a doll. But then I couldn’t smush him up. It felt too cruel… so I made him hands and feet, baked him, painted him, gave him a wire frame skeleton with a little heart of gold wire and finally put some meat on his bones (foam tape). I really like him. I love his posability, his exaggerated features, everything. All he needs now is clothes. I was just so delighted with how these have all turned out, that I wanted to share! |
2024.05.12 01:46 cleantowels A 20+ Year HW Community Vet's take on Homeworld 3 and its Story
Well I just finished the campaign of Homeworld 3 today and I have to say I am massively dissatisfied with the presented story. I feel utterly disappointed that after 20 years of waiting for a sequel to one of my favorite game franchises; we got something like this.
I feel like this game's story and narrative direction went in a direction that goes counter to the fundamental experience the first 2-3 games delivered that made them memorable so many decades after the fact. I honestly think it is the worst/weakest game of the franchise narratively speaking. All the other aspects of HW3 are fantastic. I 1000% understand what Rob and the rest of the folks at BBI were trying to accomplish here when they said the tech wasn't available 20 years ago with HW2. This game is beautiful and it shows. Visuals, Audio, ship design, UI, are fantastic. Gameplay and mechanical issues are fixable so I'm not going to fault them for that being a bit rough at launch.
I'll try to explain as best I can, but I'm not the best at fully expressing my thoughts out into text, so (BRING SAJUUK TO BEAR) with me.
For context, I've been in the Homeworld community for a LONG TIME. Since the Relicnews days. Not as long as Uber, Shin, or some of the other folks, but long enough to have made many friends from this community I still know to this day, and also I am one of the moderators on the HWU Discord server. So I have spent the better part of my entire life a part of this community in some way.
Here we go... (quote shameless stolen borrowed from The Way of Kings)
DanVanCrone wrote a fantastic piece on the old Relicnews forums that the entire forum base loved to referenced for many years of how heartfelt and masterful the story connected with its audience.
For me and many others. it was the experience of the story; the journey that took place within those games that gave us the player something to connect with; to relate with. The story of Homeworld presented a simple premise. A people on a planet who discovered their home was not their own. Their true home was out somewhere among the stars. The reasons how they got here or why lost to time and ancient memories turned to myth and legends. Their struggle to survive, their rise out of near extinction to climb into the heavens and stumble upon a lost secret that would transform their entire society in such a way that would drive them across the galaxy.
So we set out on this journey not as a third party viewing Commander Shepard do his thing, or as a specific character; but as someone who had their place right along side the entire Kharakian people as they set out to find their home. Sure we had Fleet Command/Intel, as they were voiced and spoke, but their agency as a character was done in such a way presented them moreso as proxies or acted as a voice for the entirety of the Kharakian (Kushan) people. Karan did have her own voice due to the nature of her linkage to the Mothership and so she had a sort of duality with her position. But both her and Fleet Intelligence were able to act as a means to deliver the emotions for moments of pain, grief, anger, sadness, revenge, hope and everything we experienced as we played the campaign.
We experienced the journey to Hiigara along with the entire crew of the Mothership. We had the welling of anger and sadness when Kharak burned. The anxiousness and anticipation at the Bridge of Sighs as we gained entry to the Hiigaran system. Panic, concern, worry as we fought to survive in orbit around our Homeworld.
The story of Homeworld was never about a character or about chasing 'a thing' but moreso the exploration and experience of an idea that resonated with everyone; to find your home. In doing so, the story unfolded naturally of uncovering the history of what happened in their past of how they came to be on Kharak, experiencing loss, exacting revenge, hope for the future and eventually tears of joy at the accomplishment that the did in fact find Hiigara. And we were there along the way as an active participant to experience all of it along the way as if we were there with them.
The glorious vistas of the galaxy as we jumped from mission to mission. We cried at the end NIS as we saw the epilogue of our journey. The lives lost from the conflict of the fight to gain our Homeworld. The awe and wonder of seeing a lush world to those who knew only endless sands, and especially when we saw Karan insisting that she be the last person to disembark and set foot on the Homeworld.
The agency we had as a player was not viewed through the lens of one person; but through the eyes of an entire people and the journey they took. The universe had enough backstory written within the manual to lay the foundational ground work just enough that you didn't need a lot of technical exposition dumps, or have to have things blatantly explained to you right to your face. So in a sense, you were like part of the crew going on the journey along with them, as part of them.
Here HWC built upon the foundations that HW1 put in place with the lore of the Kiiths, the fallout of returning to Hiigara, and touched upon and provided interested world building elements about the universe. From the aspects of Kiith politics; and the explorations of galactic geopolitics resulting from the Return of the Kushan people.
It was an underdog tale and also one that mirrors and parallels aspects of a Hero's Journey. Only again the hero here is not a person but a group of people. The story aspect of The Beast acted as narrative driving force to drive those concepts of the growth and journey of the Kuun-Lan and her crew as they had that Hero's journey.
You fight alongside the Kuun-Lann, you feel and hear the fear in their voices of the ship engineers as they struggle to understand the Beast when it captures and subverts ships. The tension as the story progresses as the circumstances get more dire. The interactions with the Bentusi and seeing a culture so powerful be shook to their core was a fantastic element of exploring who the Bentusi were as a people. We saw the horrors of the Imperialist experiments and their alliance with the Beast. We got the the thrill of victory with the Siege cannon working as we fought back in the last mission. And lastly at the end of the epilogue sequence where the Somtaww fought, died, and earned their place among the great martial Kiith; the naming of their children as Beastslayers. Truly it was fantastic story telling under the guise of using science fiction and some space horror.
All of the gameplay, and the emotions come out as the story and narrative is experienced. Everything that is told within the game, works within the confines of the established lore of the game, and the prior game. Nothing is over explained, nothing is just hand-waved away. We saw them grow as a crew, saw their fear, stumbles falls, and triumphs along the way. All this while exploring and growing the established lore of the Homeworld universe.
In my view those two stories worked so well for so many people because fundamentally, they were a story of the Journey; not the destination. We lived through those experiences as if we were there with them; we experienced the ups and downs of the emotions of the stories told about the people and their growth within those stories. We were able to connect and relate to those experiences in our own way. And in my view, the ability to connect to those stories made them so fantastic.
Many of us in the community know of the development of Homeworld 2, its cancellation, its rushed story and development. However the story of HW2 mostly throws out the concepts mentioned before. While the story and gameplay is presented in the same way as the prior two games; in my view it fails to present the user a story and experience they can truly and fundamentally connect with and is more 'generic science fiction'.
The driving force of the story is some prophecy we've never seen or heard of before this game in any of the lore. And the main reason for all of it is the now retconned nature of the hyperspace cores. Throw on top of this heavy leaning into the religious themes and mysticism focusing on Karan and Makaan who now and take the stage as the primary protagonists and antagonists of the story.
The character motivations of the Makaan/Vaygr, Karan, and the Bentusi are in my view mostly shallow or very hollow to the point its basically cookie cutter tropes without a lot of nuance to it. The story becomes and is less about the people and more about a MacGuffin game of Hide and Seek. The prior exploration and expansion of the HW universe is entirely ignored in favor of this hide-and-seek of the cores that the entire game has driving it forward. There's no understanding of the growth of the world, of the Kushan people, geopolitics, or anything like that. Just lots of woo-woo mysticism about the Cores and the Progenitors.
With regards to the plot; we're mainly just told 'hey the bad guys are coming, keep the cores away and go find the others'. The Bentusi are unceremoniously killed off without any real build up or explanation. Why are they the last? What happened to them? None of that is explored in a way that gives us any sort of satisfying reason to why this makes sense when they detonate their Harbour Ship to give us their Magic Space Core.
To me there's no personal emotional connection to the story. Why should I care about a magic space prophecy I've never heard of until now? Why are the Vaygr the way they are? None of that is given time to breathe or has enough depth to make me care beyond superficially. The narrative doesn't make you feel less of an active participant in the journey you are going through, and makes you more of a passive viewer of a conflict that has little explanation as to why you should care or understand the importance of said driving forces. The reasons for getting to and through the the game feel rushed so much that the narrative doesn't have a lot of depth or time to breathe in my view.
While the backstory in the manual does give context to the pre-exile events and how it does relate to the events in game which helps with overall universe world building; it's done so in such a way that is retconning the fundamental established soft-rules of the universe that HW1 and HWC laid the ground work on which further compounds or allows the weak story of HW2 to take place, and undercuts the accomplishments of the Kushan people as I will explain shortly.
Instead we got the story of Homeworld 3.
Now I don't want to be unnecessary harsh or mean to the writers or the team at BBI/Gearbox for the effort they put into the work for Homeworld 3. This game is a niche title and not anywhere near popular like COD, or Warcraft or Zelda. But to be frank, I really truly feel that y'all need to have some direct constructive criticism of this story's campaign. I don't know what the motivation was for putting this story together, or what was attempting to be told here, but whatever story you were trying to tell did not land well.
I backed this game on fig at the Admiral level, so I threw down hard for this and am truly grateful we got the game at all. I truly want BBI and Gearbox to take this to heart in a way this is not demeaning, but a cold bucket of water that I feel needs to be throw.
The best way I can succinctly put this is that the story of Homeworld 3 lacks the fundamental soul that made Homeworld 1 and Homeworld Cataclysm the absolutely best in the franchise. This game makes Homeworld 2's rushed narrative and slight stumbles look somehow not that bad by comparison. Those on the HWU discord know my passionate dislike of the overall story of HW2 and the retcons that introduced that were further compounded by HWDOK. The story of HW3 makes HW2 look polished and well thought out by comparison.
So I'll be straight with my gripes on this.
Story-wise; it's disappointing, bland, and generic at the very least and doesn't live up to the GOAT levels of quality the originals of HW1 and HWC (and to an extent HW2) put forth; to being insultingly bad at worst. I don't mean this as an slight to the writing staff as I know that a LOT of the OG folks involved with the first games were involved, but I really feel like there was a misstep here. It plays well and the pacing is kinda faster than I'd have wanted within a Homeworld game. However the core story ideas that make up the game are poorly explained, weak, or are so counter the established lore that for me it doesn't hold up well. This is magnified by the antagonist motivations and actions being poorly explained which in turn doesn't give the story or world to grow in any meaningful way.
I honestly don't know where or how the path the franchise has taken can be corrected. In my personal opinion, its gone off in a direction that gave the first games their unique style that made them attractive in the first place. Without doing massive retcons to entirely course correct to bring the game to where I personally think would be more akin to the original games I don't know where they'll try to take the game. This recent game I feel it has pushed more into the generic bland science fantasy genre with this newest entry into the franchise; rather than taking the careful slow burn, grounded science fiction based abstract story approach that connects with a player on a deeply personal level.
For me, while may it may have the gameplay mechanics and RTS genre DNA of seasoned devs in the industry that have been involved with Homeworld and other games over the years, it lacks the soul that made the first games who they were and is Homeworld game in name only.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
submitted by cleantowels to homeworld [link] [comments]
I feel like this game's story and narrative direction went in a direction that goes counter to the fundamental experience the first 2-3 games delivered that made them memorable so many decades after the fact. I honestly think it is the worst/weakest game of the franchise narratively speaking. All the other aspects of HW3 are fantastic. I 1000% understand what Rob and the rest of the folks at BBI were trying to accomplish here when they said the tech wasn't available 20 years ago with HW2. This game is beautiful and it shows. Visuals, Audio, ship design, UI, are fantastic. Gameplay and mechanical issues are fixable so I'm not going to fault them for that being a bit rough at launch.
I'll try to explain as best I can, but I'm not the best at fully expressing my thoughts out into text, so (BRING SAJUUK TO BEAR) with me.
For context, I've been in the Homeworld community for a LONG TIME. Since the Relicnews days. Not as long as Uber, Shin, or some of the other folks, but long enough to have made many friends from this community I still know to this day, and also I am one of the moderators on the HWU Discord server. So I have spent the better part of my entire life a part of this community in some way.
Here we go... (quote shameless stolen borrowed from The Way of Kings)
Journey Before Destination
The ancient code of the Knights Radiant says “journey before destination.” Some may call it a simple platitude, but it is far more. A journey will have pain and failure. It is not only the steps forward that we must accept. It is the stumbles. The trials. The knowledge that we will fail. That we will hurt those around us.Why do people love HW1/HWC to this day? What about those games made them so well loved by the community that they are widely considered the de-facto games of the series when it comes to their story telling? But what about it was good that made it that way?
But if we stop, if we accept the person we are when we fall, the journey ends. That failure becomes our destination.
DanVanCrone wrote a fantastic piece on the old Relicnews forums that the entire forum base loved to referenced for many years of how heartfelt and masterful the story connected with its audience.
For me and many others. it was the experience of the story; the journey that took place within those games that gave us the player something to connect with; to relate with. The story of Homeworld presented a simple premise. A people on a planet who discovered their home was not their own. Their true home was out somewhere among the stars. The reasons how they got here or why lost to time and ancient memories turned to myth and legends. Their struggle to survive, their rise out of near extinction to climb into the heavens and stumble upon a lost secret that would transform their entire society in such a way that would drive them across the galaxy.
So we set out on this journey not as a third party viewing Commander Shepard do his thing, or as a specific character; but as someone who had their place right along side the entire Kharakian people as they set out to find their home. Sure we had Fleet Command/Intel, as they were voiced and spoke, but their agency as a character was done in such a way presented them moreso as proxies or acted as a voice for the entirety of the Kharakian (Kushan) people. Karan did have her own voice due to the nature of her linkage to the Mothership and so she had a sort of duality with her position. But both her and Fleet Intelligence were able to act as a means to deliver the emotions for moments of pain, grief, anger, sadness, revenge, hope and everything we experienced as we played the campaign.
We experienced the journey to Hiigara along with the entire crew of the Mothership. We had the welling of anger and sadness when Kharak burned. The anxiousness and anticipation at the Bridge of Sighs as we gained entry to the Hiigaran system. Panic, concern, worry as we fought to survive in orbit around our Homeworld.
The story of Homeworld was never about a character or about chasing 'a thing' but moreso the exploration and experience of an idea that resonated with everyone; to find your home. In doing so, the story unfolded naturally of uncovering the history of what happened in their past of how they came to be on Kharak, experiencing loss, exacting revenge, hope for the future and eventually tears of joy at the accomplishment that the did in fact find Hiigara. And we were there along the way as an active participant to experience all of it along the way as if we were there with them.
The glorious vistas of the galaxy as we jumped from mission to mission. We cried at the end NIS as we saw the epilogue of our journey. The lives lost from the conflict of the fight to gain our Homeworld. The awe and wonder of seeing a lush world to those who knew only endless sands, and especially when we saw Karan insisting that she be the last person to disembark and set foot on the Homeworld.
The agency we had as a player was not viewed through the lens of one person; but through the eyes of an entire people and the journey they took. The universe had enough backstory written within the manual to lay the foundational ground work just enough that you didn't need a lot of technical exposition dumps, or have to have things blatantly explained to you right to your face. So in a sense, you were like part of the crew going on the journey along with them, as part of them.
Homeworld Catacylsm
HWC worked much the same way within its own twist. For this game, the focus was much smaller in scope and placed you with the crew of the Kiith Somtaaw mining vessel.Here HWC built upon the foundations that HW1 put in place with the lore of the Kiiths, the fallout of returning to Hiigara, and touched upon and provided interested world building elements about the universe. From the aspects of Kiith politics; and the explorations of galactic geopolitics resulting from the Return of the Kushan people.
It was an underdog tale and also one that mirrors and parallels aspects of a Hero's Journey. Only again the hero here is not a person but a group of people. The story aspect of The Beast acted as narrative driving force to drive those concepts of the growth and journey of the Kuun-Lan and her crew as they had that Hero's journey.
You fight alongside the Kuun-Lann, you feel and hear the fear in their voices of the ship engineers as they struggle to understand the Beast when it captures and subverts ships. The tension as the story progresses as the circumstances get more dire. The interactions with the Bentusi and seeing a culture so powerful be shook to their core was a fantastic element of exploring who the Bentusi were as a people. We saw the horrors of the Imperialist experiments and their alliance with the Beast. We got the the thrill of victory with the Siege cannon working as we fought back in the last mission. And lastly at the end of the epilogue sequence where the Somtaww fought, died, and earned their place among the great martial Kiith; the naming of their children as Beastslayers. Truly it was fantastic story telling under the guise of using science fiction and some space horror.
All of the gameplay, and the emotions come out as the story and narrative is experienced. Everything that is told within the game, works within the confines of the established lore of the game, and the prior game. Nothing is over explained, nothing is just hand-waved away. We saw them grow as a crew, saw their fear, stumbles falls, and triumphs along the way. All this while exploring and growing the established lore of the Homeworld universe.
In my view those two stories worked so well for so many people because fundamentally, they were a story of the Journey; not the destination. We lived through those experiences as if we were there with them; we experienced the ups and downs of the emotions of the stories told about the people and their growth within those stories. We were able to connect and relate to those experiences in our own way. And in my view, the ability to connect to those stories made them so fantastic.
“And so, does the destination matter? Or is it the path we take? I declare that no accomplishment has substance nearly as great as the road used to achieve it. We are not creatures of destinations. It is the journey that shapes us. Our callused feet, our backs strong from carrying the weight of our travels, our eyes open with the fresh delight of experiences lived.”
The Stumble
"What you saw belongs to you. A story doesn't live until it is imagined in someone's mind."In my view Homeworld 2 is where things started to have problems.
"What does the story mean, then?"
"It means what you want it to mean," Hoid said. "The purpose of a storyteller is not to tell you how to think , but to give you questions to think upon. Too often, we forget that.”
Many of us in the community know of the development of Homeworld 2, its cancellation, its rushed story and development. However the story of HW2 mostly throws out the concepts mentioned before. While the story and gameplay is presented in the same way as the prior two games; in my view it fails to present the user a story and experience they can truly and fundamentally connect with and is more 'generic science fiction'.
The driving force of the story is some prophecy we've never seen or heard of before this game in any of the lore. And the main reason for all of it is the now retconned nature of the hyperspace cores. Throw on top of this heavy leaning into the religious themes and mysticism focusing on Karan and Makaan who now and take the stage as the primary protagonists and antagonists of the story.
The character motivations of the Makaan/Vaygr, Karan, and the Bentusi are in my view mostly shallow or very hollow to the point its basically cookie cutter tropes without a lot of nuance to it. The story becomes and is less about the people and more about a MacGuffin game of Hide and Seek. The prior exploration and expansion of the HW universe is entirely ignored in favor of this hide-and-seek of the cores that the entire game has driving it forward. There's no understanding of the growth of the world, of the Kushan people, geopolitics, or anything like that. Just lots of woo-woo mysticism about the Cores and the Progenitors.
With regards to the plot; we're mainly just told 'hey the bad guys are coming, keep the cores away and go find the others'. The Bentusi are unceremoniously killed off without any real build up or explanation. Why are they the last? What happened to them? None of that is explored in a way that gives us any sort of satisfying reason to why this makes sense when they detonate their Harbour Ship to give us their Magic Space Core.
To me there's no personal emotional connection to the story. Why should I care about a magic space prophecy I've never heard of until now? Why are the Vaygr the way they are? None of that is given time to breathe or has enough depth to make me care beyond superficially. The narrative doesn't make you feel less of an active participant in the journey you are going through, and makes you more of a passive viewer of a conflict that has little explanation as to why you should care or understand the importance of said driving forces. The reasons for getting to and through the the game feel rushed so much that the narrative doesn't have a lot of depth or time to breathe in my view.
While the backstory in the manual does give context to the pre-exile events and how it does relate to the events in game which helps with overall universe world building; it's done so in such a way that is retconning the fundamental established soft-rules of the universe that HW1 and HWC laid the ground work on which further compounds or allows the weak story of HW2 to take place, and undercuts the accomplishments of the Kushan people as I will explain shortly.
The Fall - Homeworld 3
However the worse crime is what was squandered with the ending of the HW2. The epilogue of Homeworld 2 put forth a massive chance for some incredible story options to take place with the opening of the Hyperspace Gate Network across the galaxy. A chance for exploring stories that can connect with the player on that personal level like HW1 and HWC and the explorations of what could be explored in this new open universe. What will the Hiigarans do now, what about the Taiidan, the other Inner Rim species, what now will the galaxy look like with the Bentusi gone, why were the gates closed in the first place?! So many fantastic ideas were possible with scopes as large or as small as possible. The discovery, exploration of the Homeworld Galaxy would have been tremendous.Instead we got the story of Homeworld 3.
Now I don't want to be unnecessary harsh or mean to the writers or the team at BBI/Gearbox for the effort they put into the work for Homeworld 3. This game is a niche title and not anywhere near popular like COD, or Warcraft or Zelda. But to be frank, I really truly feel that y'all need to have some direct constructive criticism of this story's campaign. I don't know what the motivation was for putting this story together, or what was attempting to be told here, but whatever story you were trying to tell did not land well.
I backed this game on fig at the Admiral level, so I threw down hard for this and am truly grateful we got the game at all. I truly want BBI and Gearbox to take this to heart in a way this is not demeaning, but a cold bucket of water that I feel needs to be throw.
The best way I can succinctly put this is that the story of Homeworld 3 lacks the fundamental soul that made Homeworld 1 and Homeworld Cataclysm the absolutely best in the franchise. This game makes Homeworld 2's rushed narrative and slight stumbles look somehow not that bad by comparison. Those on the HWU discord know my passionate dislike of the overall story of HW2 and the retcons that introduced that were further compounded by HWDOK. The story of HW3 makes HW2 look polished and well thought out by comparison.
So I'll be straight with my gripes on this.
- More and worse of the same that came from Homeworld 2. Retcons of established lore, de-emphasizing and diminishment of the motivations of the persons and people's in the prior games. Putting the Progenitor hyperspace cores as the singular driving force of the entire franchise
- Everything is now about KARAN SJET. Karan saved the Kushan people. Karan lead the revenge against the Taiidan, Karan found the magic space cores. Karan opened the hyperspace gate network, Karan tries to stop the anomaly. Karan probably cured cancer and saved JFK from assassination for all I know.
- The compounding of the Progenitor hyperspace SpaceMagic and making Karan the primary protagonist of the series continues to massively undercut the accomplishments of the Kharakian people off at the knees. The entire back story of HW1 that details their struggle and clawing up the tech tree, the struggle to survive on the harsh conditions of Kharak, how the discovery of the Guidestone and the goal of Hiigara the singular unifying goal of reaching their lost Homeworld uniting their entire population. Everything the HW1 manual details and gloriously shows the accomplishments of their PEOPLE to get to where they were at the start of HW1. All of that is diminished because 'magic hyperspace core'. I could go on but you get the gist. (I won't get into the further compounding retcons of HWDOK, but this just furthers that same narrative direction.) In my view, the Homeworld series has and never been about a person, but the story and journey of a group or people whose plight or experience is something that can be emotionally and personally related to by anyone.
- Karan was only a small person out of her entire population and only ONE person of the entire crew of the mothership. She was not some messianic figure, but someone who sacrificed for her people. Now I get the messianic implications of that, but the first game was never about her.
- HW2 already crossed over the line of making the story about a person rather than about the people. HW3 takes that and makes it worse. Gone is a story about the Hiigaran people and how their place in the Inner Rim has taken hold a century after landing back home. No explaination of how the inner rim has changed since the gates opened. Nothing about the Galactic Council. Nothing about other species or factions.
- The world building of HW3 is basically non-existent or is very poorly done as compared to the last games. No real understanding of the world at large since the ending of the last game or how the events have unfolded and affected the universe as we have come to understand it. Unless you go on the HWU website to get some level of backstory to get an idea of what's going on leading into HW3, you'll have no idea what the hell is happening.
- The antagonist of HW3 makes the life-size cardboard cutout of Makaan win the Oscar for best actor in a science fiction video game. They are bad and lack any sort of depth at all as a character. They instead come off at worst as cringe at and best cliché trope-y bad. Throughout the entire campaign we have no idea how/why/what they are doing the things they are doing. Nothing is explained that makes any sense. They just monologue at us with some over the top badguy speeches without any real understanding of what they are after or what their motivations are. Seriously, the the cut scenes from Homeworld 1 with Emperor Riesstiu IV the Second or Makaan from HW2 had more narrative depth and in universe understanding of their motivations than the antagonist of HW3. I have seriously no idea how this Incarnate Queen got the power she did, or why she was doing what she was attempting. No reasons why beyond I AM BADGUY WITH ULTIMATE POWER. JOIN ME OR DIE. It was the equivalent of 'Somehow Palpatine has returned levels of bad. How did she get the Progenitor tech she did, how did she live as long as she does, how does she have magic hyperspace cores that let her go into the Magic Hyperspace Navigator Mind Realm?? No idea Something the OG Homeworld games did very well was of show don't tell, and telling just enough for it to make sense without having to go into crazy techno battle or massive mystical assumptions of how things worked. This is one of those moments I feel like it did the opposite of that. We're shown a WHOLE LOT OF STUFF, but have no way to reconcile it in game in a way that narratively makes sense or resonates with the playeuniverse.
- The massive in-universe violations of established lore regarding hyperspace. Holy shit this is so bad I don't even know how this came about. The Progenitor hyperspace cores and their special spacemagic look mostly normal by comparison. There is no lore or story elements that help explain how any of this is possible. It's never explained at all beyond 'it happened just go with it'. Absolutely nothing, nada, not a bit of information is explained or made attempts to understand at how the Incarnate Queen is using hyperspace as a weapon. The violation of the mass override safety interrupts or gravity blocking or interfering with hyperspace is never explained at all. Nothing to show how she is THROWING PLANETS AT OTHER PLANETS. This is the equivalent of the Holdo Manuver from 'The Force Awakens'; massively cool to see on screen; but holy shit this violates so many in-universe conventions of how FTL travel works that it fundamentally causes problems.
- MASSIVELY more leaning into the mysticism aspects and moreso science fantasy side of storytelling are done within this game than the prior four games. I am not sure on the motivations here, but I feel like it was done in such a way that that leaves much to be desired for HOW/WHY. I get that they may have been trying to lean more into the nature of the Unbound and how the Navigators of the mothership class vessels are connected to their ships and have a much more profound view of the universe (similar to what the Bentusi alluded to). But this just felt very out of place and didn't make a lot of sense to me why it was presented in this way. I feel like it could have been done better or in such a way that helped it link up better to the ideas of the Unbound, but this was not it.
- The way HW3 story plays feels like someone only had a cursory understanding of the Homeworld lore and just did their own thing with it irrespective of the established lore and world building that was previously done. Shutting down the gate network??? WHY. This just takes the ending of HW2 and throws all those chances I mentioned and just throws it in the trash.
- No explanation of why the Incarnate Queen thinks she can make a new race of Unbound?? Why is this important? Don't know! Why are Karan and Imogen somehow special and able to stop her within the Hyperspace Mental universe? No idea and it really pushes things way into Science fantasy.
- Imogen as a character I feel is 'okay'. I am not sure if its the relationships she has with the other characters in the game, or if its just the story as a whole doesn't give her a lot to work with. To me it feels like there some aspect of her story and character I feel is missing from the game. Again its probably my displeasure of the game focusing on individual characters instead of larger abstractions of people like the prior games before HW2.
Final Thoughts
Fundamentally I know this is a personal opinion of mine and not everyone will agree with it. That's fine, but for me I have so many issues with the story and many of the pillars that are supposed to hold it up that at a certain point I can only say that the story is for me very bad and goes against the grain of what the foundational games to me setup for the franchise. It does nothing to grow or expand the HW universe lore in any interesting ways. I say this as someone who's been in and grown up with the Homeworld community for the last 26 years.Story-wise; it's disappointing, bland, and generic at the very least and doesn't live up to the GOAT levels of quality the originals of HW1 and HWC (and to an extent HW2) put forth; to being insultingly bad at worst. I don't mean this as an slight to the writing staff as I know that a LOT of the OG folks involved with the first games were involved, but I really feel like there was a misstep here. It plays well and the pacing is kinda faster than I'd have wanted within a Homeworld game. However the core story ideas that make up the game are poorly explained, weak, or are so counter the established lore that for me it doesn't hold up well. This is magnified by the antagonist motivations and actions being poorly explained which in turn doesn't give the story or world to grow in any meaningful way.
I honestly don't know where or how the path the franchise has taken can be corrected. In my personal opinion, its gone off in a direction that gave the first games their unique style that made them attractive in the first place. Without doing massive retcons to entirely course correct to bring the game to where I personally think would be more akin to the original games I don't know where they'll try to take the game. This recent game I feel it has pushed more into the generic bland science fantasy genre with this newest entry into the franchise; rather than taking the careful slow burn, grounded science fiction based abstract story approach that connects with a player on a deeply personal level.
For me, while may it may have the gameplay mechanics and RTS genre DNA of seasoned devs in the industry that have been involved with Homeworld and other games over the years, it lacks the soul that made the first games who they were and is Homeworld game in name only.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
2024.05.12 00:01 Typical_Software_798 Stranger in a strange world
Preface: I started hammering this out not too long ago, with hopes of it extending to the truely amazing lengths that other stories have. Personally I doubt it will, but hey might be entertaining for a few people. Criticism is welcome, constructive criticism even more-so. Formatting is not my strong suit (mobile doesn’t help, nor does not knowing what the hell im doing), neither is pacing nor doling out enough detail to certain points, hopefully in time I will improve. Title may be subject to change, still iffy on it.
Kata surveyed the fields below her, searching for her quarry. The corrupted beast had three times now harassed the keep, harming multiple guards and killing a child. She gripped her bow harder, poor Ensia… just a little girl, ripped from the world too young.
She knew her parents and saw them mourn. It was heart wrenching, listening to them sob. Holding the orange blood stained body of their little girl.
She owed it to them to bring back the beast’s head. She kept a close eye on the ground below, looking for the black furred bear. It fled into the nearby woods.
Tree cover was common but did not prevent much visibility to the ground. She knew it was fairly small, and packed a mean bite, but she had her stinger, positioned at the end of her armored tail.
The red scales a sign of her bloodline, a relative of the royal family. As such, it was her sworn duty to protect her people and hunt down those who threaten them.
Minutes of careful gazing and hearty flying later and she spied her prey, positioned by a tree and ravenously devouring a still live deer. She couldn’t help but pity the deer, dying to feed such a beast. She watched as it struggled, trying to escape.
Kata began to swoop down to the two animals. After she had killed the bear, she would put down the deer. It would only be right.
Tucking in her wings, she began to dive, twisting around a tree and notching an arrow into her bow. Pulling up from the dive to coast a mere 10 feet above the ground, she let the arrow loose, hitting the bear in the back of the neck.
It reared back, roaring in pain as she slung her bow and drew her sword. Coming in low and fast, nimbly twisting around trees, she let her momentum work for the cut as she held it out at an angle.
Simultaneously, she readied her tail to nab a quick sting on the beast just in case the sword wouldn’t prove lethal. Meer moments later her sword cut deep into the bear, dragging along its neck like a guillotine. It hadn’t cut as deep as she would’ve liked, so as she passed the beast she whipped her tail down onto its back, her stinger piercing its thick hide and quickly delivering a dose of paralyzing venom.
Pulling up, she began to loop back around for a second swipe. Agilely twisting mid air to avoid hitting branches. The bear had began turning to face her, stiffly moving as the venom did its work. Confident in its potency, Kata continued forward, sure that the bear would not be able to fight back.
Only as she got too close to turn away had she realized her confidence was for nought, as it reared up onto its hind legs and took a mighty swipe at her, knocking her to the ground and cutting a nasty gash into her face
. As she hit the floor, her head filled with a searing pain like staring into the sun. She began to worry that the bear had hit her far too hard for her to recover and fight back, until with a thunderous clap and bolt of blue light the pain disappeared.
She quickly clambered to her feet, ready to face the bear once more, but to her shock, the beast wasn’t charging her. In fact, before her eyes was not just a bear, but a large building of metal and strange stone.
To her astonishment, the bear started to roar in pain. Looking around for the cause, she noticed a concerning sight. Its rear quarter of its body was fused into the structure. She stepped forward, blood from her face dripping down her neck in non-concerning quantities, inspecting the odd building.
Matthew stared excitedly at the workshop before him.
The most interesting room of the Nevada General Laboratory. A research center for robotics, genetics, botany, and most relevantly, quantum physics.
The mainstay of the Quantum Physics Department was the Quantum Breach Array. Theoretically capable of creating a portal to any point in space, perhaps even time.
The prior test of the array had not gone smoothly. When it was activated, a black bear sized animal had bolted out and started attacking researchers, biting a technician in the shoulder before scurrying back through the array. He had shut it down as soon as he could.
Mostly ignoring a handful of warnings, his boss was too excited about the prospect laid before him to slow down the research. Matthew couldn’t fault him. He was always chasing something exciting, and ever since his career in the military the thrills had to be bigger and more intense.
Seeing as he had combat experience, they’d bought him a fairly sturdy set of equipment from a surplus depot and plopped him down in the room. His technical expertise and education were more than enough to run the necessary equipment.
Perhaps they had gone a bit overkill, with night vision, full body kevlar and plates, M4, 1911, and lever action shotgun, but over equipped was better than under, and he didn’t mind the extra firepower.
He waited until the PA system crackled to life as the words rang out, the excited voices of the skeleton crew in the building.
The Q.P supervisor, two Q.P researchers, and 4 researchers from other departments which wanted to be present for the test. Technically, he wasn’t part of the Q.P department. He was just a technician working with robotics, but he hadn’t minded the hasty change to his job description.
A flurry of quickly hushed voices echoed through the speaker, before a clear concise sentence was beheld.
“Activate the array.”
Like a good grunt, Matthew did as he was told. Walking to the console and starting the device.
He felt sick to his stomach as the array buzzed to life and forced a hole through time and space. An unnatural feeling to be sure.
Stepping away from the console, he heard a capacitor burst and looked up in horror as the array buzzed louder and louder, the blue orb in the middle starting to expand.
Stepping back to the console, he fiddled with the controls, trying to shut it down. Error message after error message met his attempts, before a blinding flash of blue light and a piercing headache pervaded his concentration with a thunderous, seering mental pain.
He hadn’t even had the time to fall to his knees before it dissipated, he went to take a step back, but felt something give resistance, turning around to see something which shouldn’t be there.
A shrub, phased into the floor, right behind him. Had he been standing just a foot back, he’d likely be part of the plant. Atleast, he would be taking up the same space. Something told him that would not be a pleasant experience.
Giving the workshop before him a quick survey, the array was scorched, but the machinery around it was fine. Lathes, drill presses, other machines. He noticed a few patches of grass poking through the concrete floor, as he began walking around around.
With his first real steps around the area, he felt light and airy. Picking up a nearby wrench and dropping it, he noticed as it accelerated down, it was about half the rate it normally should.
Excitement rose in his stomach as the implications were clear, he was in a new world.
He had to see the reactions of the others. Opening the workshop door, he quickly made his way to the observation room. It was close, despite not needing to be. They watched via cameras.
More shrubs and tree limbs littered the halls, which hardly slowed him down. Reaching the observation room, he tried to push the door open to no avail. Giving it a harder push, he heard the crunching of tree limbs. His gut sank with dread as he called out to no response
“Hello?”
He took a few steps back before charging the door with his shoulder, one hit. More crunching. A second, the door opened more, and a third hit forced the door open all the way.
What he saw within did not assuage his concern, as the room was filled with thick tree limbs. Through the leaves and branches he could see bits of lab coats. He could only mumble two words as reality dawned on him
“Dear God.”
All excitement vanished from his mind. He no longer desired to explore the new location before him. It had gotten people killed. Injuries can be treated, but catching a case of death?
Matthew took a deep breath, before closing the door to the observation room and walking down the hall. Heading towards an office, he opened the door and rummaged through one of his coworkers desks.
She was saving the bottle of whiskey for when the array was stable and could be reliably used, celebrating the hard work it took. It was a good bottle too, 20 years old. But she wasn’t going to drink it. None of the staff were, the facility has clearly moved.
The thought crossed his mind, imagine how confused the other departments must be when they show up for work in the morning. Pull into the gravel road, but no building meets them.
The thought of their confused faces forced a small grin on his face. But it didn’t last. Stepping over to a window, he gazed out to the landscape before him. It definitely was not the deserts of Nevada.
Placing his hand onto the window latch to open it, he felt a small static shock.
Kata walked up to the odd stone wall before her. It was quite bumpy and rough, looking as if it were sandstone, yet granite at the same time.
She wondered what it was, and where it was cut from. More importantly, she wondered how it got here. Godly intervention? A sorcerer messing up a spell?
Pulling her from her curious examination, the trapped, corrupt bear let out a low whine, as its forelimbs gave way, hanging awkwardly from its odd binds.
Walking over and hoisting her sword high, and bringing it down hard. Stabbing it between the eyes.
Thick black blood oozed out onto the blade, smelling like the rancid corruption it had been tainted with.
She was both concerned and angry. More and more tainted creatures had been popping up and they couldn’t find the source. It was frustrating, and she couldn’t do anything about it.
Corruption searches needed large, well trained units, along with plenty of supplies and squires. Searches took weeks, and it was imperative all casualties be accounted for. Such forces can only be mustered by houses which have months of preparation.
Returning to the building once more, she slowly outstretched her hand to touch it. Once her fingers neared close enough, a small arc zapped her fingers. Pulling her hand back with a small yelp she looked around, surprised.
The gears turned in her head, a weird building did a weird thing. Weird. But not weirder than it just showing up. Slowly reaching out to touch it again, focusing intently, she was startled by the sound of cracking from above.
She immediately drew her bow and notched an arrow, looking up to where the noise originated. She saw a hand pushing open a window, and acted automatically, letting the arrow loose straight at the hand, cutting a gash into its back.
Had it been parallel to the ground, the arrow would have cleanly pierced the palm. A yell sounded out from the open window followed by words. Foreign words, but words nonetheless.
Kata winced, she thought it was a threat, something tainted. But the corrupted don’t speak. If she were in that situation, she’d probably be swearing, so she guessed that’s what they were.
She called out to the voice, hoping they understood her
“Sorry! So sorry! I thought you could’ve been one of the corrupted!”
Slinging her bow and taking a few steps back, she leaped up to the window, beating her wings to gain more height on the jump. Grabbing onto the ledge and vaulting in, she continued to apologize, atleast, until she was cut off by another yell before a hard impact connected with her head
“OHB’JESUS”
She did not know what an “ohb’jesus” was but she certainly knew the person exclaiming that could pack a punch. Stumbling to her right, she bumped into a desk of sorts and used that to steady herself.
Looking at the person she accidentally attacked and who, to her, reasonably struck back, she was confused by the sight. They were not of her own people. They were slightly shorter than her, but a lot stockier. No wings, tail, or specialized ears. They had pale skin, a compact face, and weird legs. They also wore clothes made of a material unlike anything she’d seen before. They stood firmly, fists raised, ready to throw another punch, something she’d rather not have to deal with. She raised her hands out in front of her, in an expression of ‘lets calm down here, shall we?’
Matthew stood fists raised as a genuinely surprising sight stood before him. A manticore thing, though humanoid in posture. New world, new peoples he supposed. Regardless, he hadn’t expected to get shot nor for someone to just fly through the window, so he clocked them in the face.
He hadn’t hit too hard, but it still sent them stumbling to a desk. He was just about to throw another when they held up their hands.
Hopefully it meant the same thing to both parties, as he shifted his posture and took a step back.
Hopefully they were here to apologize, cause his hand hurt like hell. They began speaking, gesturing with their hands in what seemed like an apology, but Matthew couldn’t be certain. He had no clue what they were saying, new world and thus, new languages.
After a moment of confused staring, they pointed at his hand, to which he just gave a thumbs up. He thought they were offering to help with his hand, something which seemed like a nice gesture but Matthew knew he could fix it better. Unless they had magic.
Now that was something, the excitement of the situation wormed its way back into him.
He cautiously held out his hand, letting them come forward. He used that opportunity to get a good look at them.
They were slightly taller than him, like someone standing on their toes, and casting a quick glance down revealed that’s quite literally why. Their legs were digitigrade. Adding to that, they had wings, a scaled tail, and a mean looking stinger capping it off.
Looking at their face, it was odd. It looked like a shrunk down and slightly misshapen lion's head mixed with that of a humans.
After getting over the mild oddness of the sight, he noticed a mean cut on the side of their head, bleeding bright orange blood.
‘Wonder how they got that’
He thought to himself as he watched curiously as they began to take some items out of a bag. In short order he was disappointed to notice that they were rudimentary bandages.
He withdrew his hand and sighed, seeming to confuse the… person? He was going to go with a person. Before him. If his hand was simply going to be bandaged, he’d rather do it himself.
Walking over to a first aid kit, mounted just under a fire alarm, he opened it and took out a pack of zip stitches and a bandage. He gestured for the manticore person to come over, as he demonstrated the use of the supplies.
Apply the zip stitch, pull, adhere, and place a bandage over it. He gestured to their own injury. He might as well, at the very least, it could build some good will with the locals…
submitted by Typical_Software_798 to HFY [link] [comments]
Kata surveyed the fields below her, searching for her quarry. The corrupted beast had three times now harassed the keep, harming multiple guards and killing a child. She gripped her bow harder, poor Ensia… just a little girl, ripped from the world too young.
She knew her parents and saw them mourn. It was heart wrenching, listening to them sob. Holding the orange blood stained body of their little girl.
She owed it to them to bring back the beast’s head. She kept a close eye on the ground below, looking for the black furred bear. It fled into the nearby woods.
Tree cover was common but did not prevent much visibility to the ground. She knew it was fairly small, and packed a mean bite, but she had her stinger, positioned at the end of her armored tail.
The red scales a sign of her bloodline, a relative of the royal family. As such, it was her sworn duty to protect her people and hunt down those who threaten them.
Minutes of careful gazing and hearty flying later and she spied her prey, positioned by a tree and ravenously devouring a still live deer. She couldn’t help but pity the deer, dying to feed such a beast. She watched as it struggled, trying to escape.
Kata began to swoop down to the two animals. After she had killed the bear, she would put down the deer. It would only be right.
Tucking in her wings, she began to dive, twisting around a tree and notching an arrow into her bow. Pulling up from the dive to coast a mere 10 feet above the ground, she let the arrow loose, hitting the bear in the back of the neck.
It reared back, roaring in pain as she slung her bow and drew her sword. Coming in low and fast, nimbly twisting around trees, she let her momentum work for the cut as she held it out at an angle.
Simultaneously, she readied her tail to nab a quick sting on the beast just in case the sword wouldn’t prove lethal. Meer moments later her sword cut deep into the bear, dragging along its neck like a guillotine. It hadn’t cut as deep as she would’ve liked, so as she passed the beast she whipped her tail down onto its back, her stinger piercing its thick hide and quickly delivering a dose of paralyzing venom.
Pulling up, she began to loop back around for a second swipe. Agilely twisting mid air to avoid hitting branches. The bear had began turning to face her, stiffly moving as the venom did its work. Confident in its potency, Kata continued forward, sure that the bear would not be able to fight back.
Only as she got too close to turn away had she realized her confidence was for nought, as it reared up onto its hind legs and took a mighty swipe at her, knocking her to the ground and cutting a nasty gash into her face
. As she hit the floor, her head filled with a searing pain like staring into the sun. She began to worry that the bear had hit her far too hard for her to recover and fight back, until with a thunderous clap and bolt of blue light the pain disappeared.
She quickly clambered to her feet, ready to face the bear once more, but to her shock, the beast wasn’t charging her. In fact, before her eyes was not just a bear, but a large building of metal and strange stone.
To her astonishment, the bear started to roar in pain. Looking around for the cause, she noticed a concerning sight. Its rear quarter of its body was fused into the structure. She stepped forward, blood from her face dripping down her neck in non-concerning quantities, inspecting the odd building.
Matthew stared excitedly at the workshop before him.
The most interesting room of the Nevada General Laboratory. A research center for robotics, genetics, botany, and most relevantly, quantum physics.
The mainstay of the Quantum Physics Department was the Quantum Breach Array. Theoretically capable of creating a portal to any point in space, perhaps even time.
The prior test of the array had not gone smoothly. When it was activated, a black bear sized animal had bolted out and started attacking researchers, biting a technician in the shoulder before scurrying back through the array. He had shut it down as soon as he could.
Mostly ignoring a handful of warnings, his boss was too excited about the prospect laid before him to slow down the research. Matthew couldn’t fault him. He was always chasing something exciting, and ever since his career in the military the thrills had to be bigger and more intense.
Seeing as he had combat experience, they’d bought him a fairly sturdy set of equipment from a surplus depot and plopped him down in the room. His technical expertise and education were more than enough to run the necessary equipment.
Perhaps they had gone a bit overkill, with night vision, full body kevlar and plates, M4, 1911, and lever action shotgun, but over equipped was better than under, and he didn’t mind the extra firepower.
He waited until the PA system crackled to life as the words rang out, the excited voices of the skeleton crew in the building.
The Q.P supervisor, two Q.P researchers, and 4 researchers from other departments which wanted to be present for the test. Technically, he wasn’t part of the Q.P department. He was just a technician working with robotics, but he hadn’t minded the hasty change to his job description.
A flurry of quickly hushed voices echoed through the speaker, before a clear concise sentence was beheld.
“Activate the array.”
Like a good grunt, Matthew did as he was told. Walking to the console and starting the device.
He felt sick to his stomach as the array buzzed to life and forced a hole through time and space. An unnatural feeling to be sure.
Stepping away from the console, he heard a capacitor burst and looked up in horror as the array buzzed louder and louder, the blue orb in the middle starting to expand.
Stepping back to the console, he fiddled with the controls, trying to shut it down. Error message after error message met his attempts, before a blinding flash of blue light and a piercing headache pervaded his concentration with a thunderous, seering mental pain.
He hadn’t even had the time to fall to his knees before it dissipated, he went to take a step back, but felt something give resistance, turning around to see something which shouldn’t be there.
A shrub, phased into the floor, right behind him. Had he been standing just a foot back, he’d likely be part of the plant. Atleast, he would be taking up the same space. Something told him that would not be a pleasant experience.
Giving the workshop before him a quick survey, the array was scorched, but the machinery around it was fine. Lathes, drill presses, other machines. He noticed a few patches of grass poking through the concrete floor, as he began walking around around.
With his first real steps around the area, he felt light and airy. Picking up a nearby wrench and dropping it, he noticed as it accelerated down, it was about half the rate it normally should.
Excitement rose in his stomach as the implications were clear, he was in a new world.
He had to see the reactions of the others. Opening the workshop door, he quickly made his way to the observation room. It was close, despite not needing to be. They watched via cameras.
More shrubs and tree limbs littered the halls, which hardly slowed him down. Reaching the observation room, he tried to push the door open to no avail. Giving it a harder push, he heard the crunching of tree limbs. His gut sank with dread as he called out to no response
“Hello?”
He took a few steps back before charging the door with his shoulder, one hit. More crunching. A second, the door opened more, and a third hit forced the door open all the way.
What he saw within did not assuage his concern, as the room was filled with thick tree limbs. Through the leaves and branches he could see bits of lab coats. He could only mumble two words as reality dawned on him
“Dear God.”
All excitement vanished from his mind. He no longer desired to explore the new location before him. It had gotten people killed. Injuries can be treated, but catching a case of death?
Matthew took a deep breath, before closing the door to the observation room and walking down the hall. Heading towards an office, he opened the door and rummaged through one of his coworkers desks.
She was saving the bottle of whiskey for when the array was stable and could be reliably used, celebrating the hard work it took. It was a good bottle too, 20 years old. But she wasn’t going to drink it. None of the staff were, the facility has clearly moved.
The thought crossed his mind, imagine how confused the other departments must be when they show up for work in the morning. Pull into the gravel road, but no building meets them.
The thought of their confused faces forced a small grin on his face. But it didn’t last. Stepping over to a window, he gazed out to the landscape before him. It definitely was not the deserts of Nevada.
Placing his hand onto the window latch to open it, he felt a small static shock.
Kata walked up to the odd stone wall before her. It was quite bumpy and rough, looking as if it were sandstone, yet granite at the same time.
She wondered what it was, and where it was cut from. More importantly, she wondered how it got here. Godly intervention? A sorcerer messing up a spell?
Pulling her from her curious examination, the trapped, corrupt bear let out a low whine, as its forelimbs gave way, hanging awkwardly from its odd binds.
Walking over and hoisting her sword high, and bringing it down hard. Stabbing it between the eyes.
Thick black blood oozed out onto the blade, smelling like the rancid corruption it had been tainted with.
She was both concerned and angry. More and more tainted creatures had been popping up and they couldn’t find the source. It was frustrating, and she couldn’t do anything about it.
Corruption searches needed large, well trained units, along with plenty of supplies and squires. Searches took weeks, and it was imperative all casualties be accounted for. Such forces can only be mustered by houses which have months of preparation.
Returning to the building once more, she slowly outstretched her hand to touch it. Once her fingers neared close enough, a small arc zapped her fingers. Pulling her hand back with a small yelp she looked around, surprised.
The gears turned in her head, a weird building did a weird thing. Weird. But not weirder than it just showing up. Slowly reaching out to touch it again, focusing intently, she was startled by the sound of cracking from above.
She immediately drew her bow and notched an arrow, looking up to where the noise originated. She saw a hand pushing open a window, and acted automatically, letting the arrow loose straight at the hand, cutting a gash into its back.
Had it been parallel to the ground, the arrow would have cleanly pierced the palm. A yell sounded out from the open window followed by words. Foreign words, but words nonetheless.
Kata winced, she thought it was a threat, something tainted. But the corrupted don’t speak. If she were in that situation, she’d probably be swearing, so she guessed that’s what they were.
She called out to the voice, hoping they understood her
“Sorry! So sorry! I thought you could’ve been one of the corrupted!”
Slinging her bow and taking a few steps back, she leaped up to the window, beating her wings to gain more height on the jump. Grabbing onto the ledge and vaulting in, she continued to apologize, atleast, until she was cut off by another yell before a hard impact connected with her head
“OHB’JESUS”
She did not know what an “ohb’jesus” was but she certainly knew the person exclaiming that could pack a punch. Stumbling to her right, she bumped into a desk of sorts and used that to steady herself.
Looking at the person she accidentally attacked and who, to her, reasonably struck back, she was confused by the sight. They were not of her own people. They were slightly shorter than her, but a lot stockier. No wings, tail, or specialized ears. They had pale skin, a compact face, and weird legs. They also wore clothes made of a material unlike anything she’d seen before. They stood firmly, fists raised, ready to throw another punch, something she’d rather not have to deal with. She raised her hands out in front of her, in an expression of ‘lets calm down here, shall we?’
Matthew stood fists raised as a genuinely surprising sight stood before him. A manticore thing, though humanoid in posture. New world, new peoples he supposed. Regardless, he hadn’t expected to get shot nor for someone to just fly through the window, so he clocked them in the face.
He hadn’t hit too hard, but it still sent them stumbling to a desk. He was just about to throw another when they held up their hands.
Hopefully it meant the same thing to both parties, as he shifted his posture and took a step back.
Hopefully they were here to apologize, cause his hand hurt like hell. They began speaking, gesturing with their hands in what seemed like an apology, but Matthew couldn’t be certain. He had no clue what they were saying, new world and thus, new languages.
After a moment of confused staring, they pointed at his hand, to which he just gave a thumbs up. He thought they were offering to help with his hand, something which seemed like a nice gesture but Matthew knew he could fix it better. Unless they had magic.
Now that was something, the excitement of the situation wormed its way back into him.
He cautiously held out his hand, letting them come forward. He used that opportunity to get a good look at them.
They were slightly taller than him, like someone standing on their toes, and casting a quick glance down revealed that’s quite literally why. Their legs were digitigrade. Adding to that, they had wings, a scaled tail, and a mean looking stinger capping it off.
Looking at their face, it was odd. It looked like a shrunk down and slightly misshapen lion's head mixed with that of a humans.
After getting over the mild oddness of the sight, he noticed a mean cut on the side of their head, bleeding bright orange blood.
‘Wonder how they got that’
He thought to himself as he watched curiously as they began to take some items out of a bag. In short order he was disappointed to notice that they were rudimentary bandages.
He withdrew his hand and sighed, seeming to confuse the… person? He was going to go with a person. Before him. If his hand was simply going to be bandaged, he’d rather do it himself.
Walking over to a first aid kit, mounted just under a fire alarm, he opened it and took out a pack of zip stitches and a bandage. He gestured for the manticore person to come over, as he demonstrated the use of the supplies.
Apply the zip stitch, pull, adhere, and place a bandage over it. He gestured to their own injury. He might as well, at the very least, it could build some good will with the locals…
2024.05.11 21:26 justanotherloser3 Debilitating pain leaving me incapacitated. Help
I walked weird ever since I was younger. I recently learned my mom noticed this and offered to take me to a doctor, but opted not to because I refused. I was seven or eight years old at this time.
The past few months I've been dealing with foot pain, especially after wearing my steel toe shoes at work. I didn't want to spend more money on new shoes, so I decided to deal with it for a little while until about a week ago where it became very severe.
I began experiencing pain in my feet constantly when I was walking sitting, even if I wasn't using my feet. After some quick research and observing my feet, I realized that I was suffering from overpronation looking at my shoes only further confirm this as my right shoe was significantly bent inwords.
In the past three days, my foot pain has gotten debilitating to the point where I can no longer walk. I bought orthopaedic shoes yesterday and I am in the process of getting a referral to get custom made insoles and to see orthopaedic doctor so we can figure out if there's something else wrong going on with my skeleton. I don't know what to do. In the meantime I have school. I have work. I live with my partner and have responsibilities. How am I supposed to do them if I can't even walk?
I am also growing increasingly worried that this is not only overpronation, but that it could be something more severe. I'm experiencing pain in my Achilles tendon, my calves, the back of my knee, my thighs, my hips I have always been very flexible but now I find myself experiencing pain when bending down or pulling my knees towards my chest, just sitting normally causes me pain in my upper back even laying down. I still experience foot pain. This doesn't seem normal to me. That overpronation could lead to such severe symptoms in such a quick time span. I am a 19-year-old woman if that helps at all. Please I need advice I need suggestions. I need other peoples experiences. I don't know what to do. I don't know what's happening to me and I'm scared.
submitted by justanotherloser3 to ChronicPain [link] [comments]
The past few months I've been dealing with foot pain, especially after wearing my steel toe shoes at work. I didn't want to spend more money on new shoes, so I decided to deal with it for a little while until about a week ago where it became very severe.
I began experiencing pain in my feet constantly when I was walking sitting, even if I wasn't using my feet. After some quick research and observing my feet, I realized that I was suffering from overpronation looking at my shoes only further confirm this as my right shoe was significantly bent inwords.
In the past three days, my foot pain has gotten debilitating to the point where I can no longer walk. I bought orthopaedic shoes yesterday and I am in the process of getting a referral to get custom made insoles and to see orthopaedic doctor so we can figure out if there's something else wrong going on with my skeleton. I don't know what to do. In the meantime I have school. I have work. I live with my partner and have responsibilities. How am I supposed to do them if I can't even walk?
I am also growing increasingly worried that this is not only overpronation, but that it could be something more severe. I'm experiencing pain in my Achilles tendon, my calves, the back of my knee, my thighs, my hips I have always been very flexible but now I find myself experiencing pain when bending down or pulling my knees towards my chest, just sitting normally causes me pain in my upper back even laying down. I still experience foot pain. This doesn't seem normal to me. That overpronation could lead to such severe symptoms in such a quick time span. I am a 19-year-old woman if that helps at all. Please I need advice I need suggestions. I need other peoples experiences. I don't know what to do. I don't know what's happening to me and I'm scared.
2024.05.11 21:25 justanotherloser3 Debilitating pain in my lower limbs. Help.
I walked weird ever since I was younger. I recently learned my mom noticed this and offered to take me to a doctor, but opted not to because I refused. I was seven or eight years old at this time.
The past few months I've been dealing with foot pain, especially after wearing my steel toe shoes at work. I didn't want to spend more money on new shoes, so I decided to deal with it for a little while until about a week ago where it became very severe.
I began experiencing pain in my feet constantly when I was walking sitting, even if I wasn't using my feet. After some quick research and observing my feet, I realized that I was suffering from overpronation looking at my shoes only further confirm this as my right shoe was significantly bent inwords.
In the past three days, my foot pain has gotten debilitating to the point where I can no longer walk. I bought orthopaedic shoes yesterday and I am in the process of getting a referral to get custom made insoles and to see orthopaedic doctor so we can figure out if there's something else wrong going on with my skeleton. I don't know what to do. In the meantime I have school. I have work. I live with my partner and have responsibilities. How am I supposed to do them if I can't even walk?
I am also growing increasingly worried that this is not only overpronation, but that it could be something more severe. I'm experiencing pain in my Achilles tendon, my calves, the back of my knee, my thighs, my hips I have always been very flexible but now I find myself experiencing pain when bending down or pulling my knees towards my chest, just sitting normally causes me pain in my upper back even laying down. I still experience foot pain. This doesn't seem normal to me. That overpronation could lead to such severe symptoms in such a quick time span. I am a 19-year-old woman if that helps at all. Please I need advice I need suggestions. I need other peoples experiences. I don't know what to do. I don't know what's happening to me and I'm scared.
submitted by justanotherloser3 to FootFunction [link] [comments]
The past few months I've been dealing with foot pain, especially after wearing my steel toe shoes at work. I didn't want to spend more money on new shoes, so I decided to deal with it for a little while until about a week ago where it became very severe.
I began experiencing pain in my feet constantly when I was walking sitting, even if I wasn't using my feet. After some quick research and observing my feet, I realized that I was suffering from overpronation looking at my shoes only further confirm this as my right shoe was significantly bent inwords.
In the past three days, my foot pain has gotten debilitating to the point where I can no longer walk. I bought orthopaedic shoes yesterday and I am in the process of getting a referral to get custom made insoles and to see orthopaedic doctor so we can figure out if there's something else wrong going on with my skeleton. I don't know what to do. In the meantime I have school. I have work. I live with my partner and have responsibilities. How am I supposed to do them if I can't even walk?
I am also growing increasingly worried that this is not only overpronation, but that it could be something more severe. I'm experiencing pain in my Achilles tendon, my calves, the back of my knee, my thighs, my hips I have always been very flexible but now I find myself experiencing pain when bending down or pulling my knees towards my chest, just sitting normally causes me pain in my upper back even laying down. I still experience foot pain. This doesn't seem normal to me. That overpronation could lead to such severe symptoms in such a quick time span. I am a 19-year-old woman if that helps at all. Please I need advice I need suggestions. I need other peoples experiences. I don't know what to do. I don't know what's happening to me and I'm scared.
2024.05.11 20:54 RevolutionaryGrape11 How tall do you think the Tyranosaurus Ultimatus skeleton is, whether it's the Hub World easter egg or as the centerpiece of the Town Center museum (his feet are on the museum's floor)? I definitely would like to see guesses.
submitted by RevolutionaryGrape11 to size [link] [comments]
2024.05.11 20:50 RevolutionaryGrape11 All three Garden Warfare games have great easter eggs, but the gigantic dinosaur skeleton from Battle For Neighborville is by far my favorite. He's hundreds of feet tall, perhaps even the largest character in the franchise! I sort of wish the game continued to add more piano easter eggs.
 | Personally, it reminds me of the gigantic decorations from Garden Warfare 2 you could put on the other side of the bay. It'd be great if there was a way to have him permanently loom over either base, among possibly other things like the Mega Flower, as well as smaller decor. Backyard Battleground really was peak, though Giddy Park is still great. submitted by RevolutionaryGrape11 to PvZGardenWarfare [link] [comments] |
2024.05.11 18:02 No_Flamingo1254 Would be cool to see for the 40th anniversary
Would be cool that, since this year is the 40th anniversary that in october we got as a new season The Terminator.
The killer could be obviously The Terminator, or could be called "the Machine" to not be so obvious, with the perks "Skynet Connected" which allows him to focus through walls for a moment, his vision turning the iconic red filter, "Terminated" which allows him to quickly finnish any survivor with a punch through the gut and "I'll be Back" that allows him to recover from the shaken state quickly
The new survivors could be Kyle Reese and Sarah Connor, their perks being Kyle: "come with me if you wanna live" which allows him to revive faster a downed survivor, "Dark Future survivor" which grants him extra mobility and agility and "Resistance" which allows him to give a boost to the other survivors in mobility if he goes to the downed state
Sarah "on your feet soldier" that works simillar to Come with me, "hidden braveness" which causes her to give "inspiration" to other survivors when near her for 10 seconds and "you're dead baby" that when some survivor dies she has even more reserves of resistance and speed
The new map would be the Tech Noir club and their outskirts, since its mostly inspired by the first movie which turns 40 years on october.
If Arnold's image cannot be used then it it would be the endo Skeleton form
submitted by No_Flamingo1254 to deadbydaylight [link] [comments]
The killer could be obviously The Terminator, or could be called "the Machine" to not be so obvious, with the perks "Skynet Connected" which allows him to focus through walls for a moment, his vision turning the iconic red filter, "Terminated" which allows him to quickly finnish any survivor with a punch through the gut and "I'll be Back" that allows him to recover from the shaken state quickly
The new survivors could be Kyle Reese and Sarah Connor, their perks being Kyle: "come with me if you wanna live" which allows him to revive faster a downed survivor, "Dark Future survivor" which grants him extra mobility and agility and "Resistance" which allows him to give a boost to the other survivors in mobility if he goes to the downed state
Sarah "on your feet soldier" that works simillar to Come with me, "hidden braveness" which causes her to give "inspiration" to other survivors when near her for 10 seconds and "you're dead baby" that when some survivor dies she has even more reserves of resistance and speed
The new map would be the Tech Noir club and their outskirts, since its mostly inspired by the first movie which turns 40 years on october.
If Arnold's image cannot be used then it it would be the endo Skeleton form