5.5 Patch is coming out on 5/22
20 champs will be getting constellations.
19 old champs, and 1 new champ (Viego); so we’re only getting 1 new champ this expansion.
Constellations will be obtainable via a daily rotating node in the Emporium, where you can spend Stardust for Constellation upgrades. We don’t know if there are other ways to obtain them as of yet.
Constellation powers and sidegrades open up as soon as you reach 3 stars. They can be obtained out of order.
There’s a new upgrade adventure stat for champs via Constellations:
Regen +X, after winning a combat encounter, heal your nexus by that amount (X).
It’s similar to the “Game Start: Heal your nexus 2/4” upgrades when leveling ur champ.
The 4th star power is the same throughout all constellations “Manaflow - Game start: Get a mana gem”.
The 5th star power is a power you’d typically receive from the adventure pool (ex: Crush - Your allies have Overwhelm)
The 6th star power is unique to the champ and extremely powerful.
Along the way, there’s sidegrades that help improve the other cards and support champs in your deck. (ex: Support champions have Studded Leather (+1/+1), Phage (+2/+2), or Titan’s Axe (+3/+3) based on their cost)
Clarification: Viego’s constellation upgrade that gives +100% XP for Shadow Isles Champs will apply to all Shadow Isles champions (including Viego). So basically once this upgrade is unlocked, you’ll level twice as fast.
So far, Garen, Miss Fortune, Aatrox, Norra, and Darius are confirmed to be getting constellations. (source:
There have been a couple champs that may have had their star powers/deck tweaked to fit their Constellations better.
There’ll also be some brand new economy changes.
No PoC rewards in the Weekly Vault that gives PvP cards, but daily PvP quests will give a PoC Bronze Vault.
Monthly Challenges rewards are getting updated, but Aurelion Sol will be sticking around (according to the devs, it makes a great reward for new players, especially for those coming to LoR with the new button on the League client).
https://np.reddit.com/PathofChampions/comments/1csssrf/new_rewards_for_monthlies_constellations_sneak/
There’s a new “Vessel” currency obtainable in monthlies. No news on what it can be used for currently.
While there will be no event pass, there’ll be a set of free quests that’ll give out fragments, stardust, etc. to mimic the feeling of an event.
No change to Golden Reliquary timer currently.
There’ll be a couple of new bundles: $5 Welcome Bundle; gives 60 frags of various champions (on forever) $20 Launch Bundle; has a bunch of currencies, gets you a headstart on Constellations
Lemme know if I missed anything or if there’s info that needs correcting.

Hello! I am starting a low voltage apprenticeship in a couple weeks and I’ve pretty much decided on the toughbuilt tool pouch. I am wondering if you guys have recommendations for a belt - not a tool belt, just a durable belt to hold up my pants and pouch that won’t stretch (so not leather). Thank you!!

An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?

An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?

I got this nice knife from my father over Christmas but it didn’t come with a sheath. The guy that made it doesn’t sell any sort of sheath nor does he do any custom leather work. I’ve looked it up but I’m not able to find anyone who takes commissions for custom leather work so if if anyone knows a guy/girl that does this stuff then I’d appreciate if you shared it.

Gotta be skins/leather for me. Feel like I’m always at sub-100 leather, always annoying when I want to craft a machete or armor. I’m at the point where I clear bunker alfa with spears and shovels instead of machete/crowbar just cause they don’t use leather. Very annoying sacrifice to make

I usually wear converse shoes as I like how they look. I’ve owned canvas, leather and water proof converse in both high and low top styles.
I’m currently using a canvas high top shoe from them. Unfortunately, this pair has given me blisters and worn down my heel. I took off my shoe and the entire back heel of my sock was covered with blood and some of the inside of the shoe as well 😂
I have a high instep (I think…?) which is probably why they don’t fit so well. I’ve refrained from buying more comfortable shoes as I don’t like how many other shoes look.
Any suggestions would be appreciated 😇

First/Previous
"Watch out!" Jack yelled out to the crowd as the now-glowing overhead turrets, long dormant and forgotten, suddenly whirred to life with a mechanical hum, tracking his movements as he ran, shoving past a group of unsuspecting Xarak to the side as he moved to dodge the torrent of rapid fire aimed right at him, kicking up smoke as the superheated plasma churned the ground underneath him, before the sound of gunfire abruptly stopped.
"Fucking overheating shittubes!" the voice on the speakers cursed. "The Outsider is by the two broken pillars!"
"I see him!" a voice replied from out of the crowd as Jack got his bearings, spotting a group of three uniformed soldiers rushing towards him. As the leader moved to stab him with a nasty-looking barbed shortspear, Jack quickly juked the direction he intended to dodge, dipping to the right as he smashed the avian in the stomach with a vicious kick, shuffling back as he caught the blade of the second soldier with his bracer before throwing them off balance, lashing back at the first with his elbow as he did.
He moved to check the third that was moving to take a swing at him with a bat, but before Jack could do so the soldier was suddenly yanked back as a long, coiled leather whip snapped around them. Following along, Jack spotted an older grey-skinned ganger in black leathers with a coarse, black beard to match his scraggly hair sat down with his back to a wall, casually drinking a beer as he observed the chaos with a mischievous smirk.
As the soldier pulled back his bat to strike the interloper, the ganger grinned and looked down where his legs were already spread wide, revealing a strange metal crotch plate. Suddenly making a jerking motion with one of his legs, the plate flipped up to reveal the barrel of a huge codpiece gun that flipped up to point directly at the soldier, before it fired once, catching the solder completely by surprise as the top of their body was utterly obliterated by a bolt of powerful plasma energy. Smirking, the ganger gave Jack a wink, chugging down the rest of his drink, before charging into the brawl.
Hearing an almighty roar, Jack turned around only to be knocked back yet again as a broken, avian body was roughly lobbed at him, staggering him backwards as the Redeemer turned to the last of the bird-like gangsters, picking him up with immense strength and smashing them to the ground before advancing towards the human more cautiously this time, shoving drunken brawlers out of the way.
“I have long waited for this moment, Outsider. With your death, my King shall grant you redemption!” The Redeemer snarled. Now having a good look at him, Jack couldn’t see any visible weapons on him, which was strange. Last time, he’d brought a gunship and was taking potshots at him with some kind of high-powered rifle. Then again, considering what happened last time, maybe The Redeemer wanted the satisfaction of using his bare hands to beat him to death.
It wouldn’t be a terrible plan considering everything the Ogar had pulled off so far…
While sports on Earth were often separated by gender, despite some resistance from the more liberal-minded, due to biological differences between men and women, combat sports were a whole different game, with mixed martial arts organisations having very specific weight classes for fair competition between athletes, with two fighters of similar size and weight less likely to cause serious injury to each other.
But if you placed an experienced lightweight against even a novice heavyweight? That would introduce major problems for the smaller fighter, who would need to contend with the extra size, reach and power of their larger opponent. Not an impossible fight, but a tough one.
And Jack very much felt like a lightweight here.
Though of course, he had faced larger opponents before. Even an Ogar, though they had defeated the Laird with a cunning trap. However, he didn’t know how well matched he and The Redeemer were in a fair close-range fight outside of the opening moments of the ambush.
Still, he had little choice but to find out. He didn’t have an easy way to escape, and he didn’t know what the status of the others was. If he ran while they were still here then The Redeemer and the Regulators would simply go after them instead to get to him…
No. He couldn’t allow those thoughts to shake him. His friends knew what the hell they were doing, and they could handle themselves just fine. He had to worry about himself right now.
He couldn’t run, so he had to fight.
With a speed he didn’t expect from The Redeemer, they grabbed a nearby chair and lobbed it right at Jack in one smooth motion before following through with another charge.
‘Aegis!’ Jack yelled as he brought his forearm up, as his new and improved shield eagerly sprung up to take the hit from the chair, before a fist smacked into the side of his head as The Redeemer used the chair as a distraction to change his angle of attack.
Spinning with the blow, Jack fought in his mind to stay in the fight as his vision blurred, with the powerful strike threatening to knock him out then and there, before another fist caught him in the stomach, with his battleskin dispersing a hit that would have otherwise easily taken the air out of his lungs.
Retracting his shield, Jack ducked another punch that threatened to decapitate him as he skidded under the blow, parrying a backfist with his forearm that tingled painfully as he ate the blow, before clocking the Redeemer with a punch to the jaw, his gauntlet extending to cover his knuckles with a well-forged plate of metal to add their power to the strike, before the Redeemer threw out a punch that caught him on the shoulder, sending the deathworlder reeling back.
Jack grit his teeth as he fought through the pain, adrenaline rushing through him. He wasn’t out of the fight yet, but he knew he’d gotten the worst of that engagement.
The Redeemer clearly understood this as well, as the zealot strode towards the human with a confident, wicked grin.
But this time, Jack was ready.
‘Caltrops’ Jack whispered the command word, as his gauntlets gave him a good handful of them, subtly tossing them in front of him with an underhand throw, which had gone unnoticed by the Redeemer as they stared at the human with hatred.
Suddenly dashing forward to quickly close the remaining distance between them, the Redeemer roared as he charged Jack again, suddenly grunting in pain and stumbling as his full, heavy mass sent a sharp, painful spike straight through his armoured boot, causing him to lose focus as he looked down at his foot for just a moment to see what had happened.
A moment of distraction that Jack used to its fullest, as he quickly swung his axe down right at The Redeemer’s head.
However, the Ogar reacted with surprising dexterity as he used his forward momentum to avoid the full force of the axeblade, his metal helmet taking a glancing blow as he shoved Jack off balance, causing him to stumble. Quickly predicting what would come next, Jack dropped his axe on purpose as he prepared for a takedown attempt, dropping low and widening his stance as the Redeemer tackled him around the waist to try and bring him to the ground for a quick finish.
“There will be no salvation for you, human!” The Ogar growled through his pain as Jack was forced back by the Redeemer’s superior strength.
“Aww, did you miss me?” Jack taunted, holding on and walking back with the ever increasing momentum The Redeemer was building as he was pushed back along the dancefloor. “I saw your tantrum on the TV afterwards, didn’t know you were a bitch too!”
‘That’s it, asshole.’ Jack thought to himself as he felt his axe clip back onto his back. ‘Get mad. You showed me last time that you like to talk too much. I need to time this right…'
“Your blasphemy ends here Outsider! I shall smite you in the name of my King!” The insane zealot roared out in an enraged challenge.
With a roar the Redeemer pushed with much greater strength, forcing Jack to change his slow backpedalling into a full on sprint as he scrambled to stay on his feet, fighting to keep his grip above that of the Redeemer’s to maintain his control of the grapple for as long as he could as he was gradually being put off-balance, almost being lifted upwards.
‘I’ve got to hold on until the last possible moment…’ Jack thought to himself, as tables, chairs and people alike were battered to the side.
‘Now!’
As the wooden pillar supporting the balcony passed them in a blur, Jack shifted his weight to the left and relinquished the grapple, using the Redeemer’s momentum against him as he shoved the Redeemer off balance, as they smashed into the crumbling brick wall head first with an almighty crash.
As they stumbled back, yanking their head back out through the newly formed hole, Jack growled as grabbed the Redeemer around the top of one of his legs, yelling with effort as he was only just able to lift the Redeemer up and over him, slamming the Ogar down on the top of his head as hard as he could in a vicious suplex that gave a satisfying crack.
Growling with effort, the Redeemer pushed himself back into a crouch and looked up just in time as Jack’s foot smacked into the side of his head in a savage kick that cracked his metal helmet and dislodged one of his fangs. Roaring in rage and pain, the Redeemer got to his feet only to meet a flying knee that shattered his nose as his helmet cracked and dented with the heavy impacts.
“Redeem that you ugly cunt!” Jack growled, moving in for another strike as the Redeemer shoved him away, showing no signs of faltering as he slowly got to his feet, even after the devastating blows he just took. The Redeemer simply gave Jack a wicked grin of satisfaction, before it fell slightly upon seeing something to Jack’s side.
As Jack’s Ring of the Berserker vibrated again, he spun around to spot a large, lanky Vivren with several piercings in overt heavy armour grinning at him with malicious intent as she pointed a wand at him and cast a word of power.
Before he had any time to react, Jack’s entire body erupted in a wave of agony unlike anything he had ever felt before…
*****
“Fuck! Alora! Sephy? Chiyo? Dante?” Nika coughed as she got up from where the balcony had collapsed from under them.
Looking around, she could see even more patrons fighting around them, revelling in the chaos of the brawl, but she couldn’t spot any of her friends in the immediate aftermath, as thick dust plumed out from the wreckage below her.
‘At least the crew of the ship we’re meant to be travelling on are probably out by now.’ The Kizun thought to herself. ‘Can’t go back, the CorvMart crew will have moved on by now, so sticking to the original plan is probably the best move, unless we can steal a vehicle one of us knows how to pilot.’
Assessing the situation before her, Nika went for her bo staff, though made sure that her shotgun was well within easy reach. Though many of the people fighting around her looked rough, they weren’t attacking her or her friends, and until that changed they could make good allies of convenience, or for a smokescreen to give their enemies the slip if they had to run.
Though slaying as many of their attackers as they could would be preferable.
‘Best way to do that is link up with the others, we’re better as a unit.’ She reasoned, hearing an almighty crash. ‘Well, that’s probably Jack.’
Dodging a thrown bottle as a Squarri ganger missed their intended target - a pissed-off looking quadrupedal furry species that Nika didn’t recognise - before dodging a swing of a bat from a Xarak that saw her as an easy target. Quickly raising her staff she parried the backswing before cracking the other end of the staff across the reptilian’s face, knocking the rough-looking thug out as he collapsed to the ground.
Yet before Nika could think to move on from the conflict, she had to dodge out of the way using her tail as a large Balnath with some kind of cleaver-like sword took a swing at her. Recognising the sigil of the Regulator group Chiyo had told them to watch out for - a stern-looking demonic rune surrounded by a neon-red triangle - Nika parried the next sword swipe from the figure.
“Let me guesth, you want to get to the Outthider?” The Balnath sneered at the Kizun with a lisp so thick that in any other situation she’d have to stop herself from laughing. “I’m stho thorry, but we can’t let you have sthilly ideas like that!”
“Are you for fucking real?” Nika asked as she dodged to the side and put some space between them before quickly switching to her shotgun, letting loose a powerful blast that the Balnath was able to raise his shield up to block.
‘Skill like that? Probably the leader or an officer of some kind.’ The Kizun noted to herself. ‘No choice. I’ve got to kill him.’
“Yeah, I know that you’re finking! You fink my teef make me sound sthupid?” The Balnath growled, with a few experimental chomps. “Well these teef like to gnaw and gnasth on Kizun flesth!”
“Come and try it!” Nika snarled as she twirled her staff around her in a well-practised flourish, eagerly accepting the challenge.
The Balnath charged forward with lightning speed as it came at Nika with a series of feints, before swiping at her with a brutal overhand chop, using both hands. The Kizun was able to deftly parry with her staff, the kinetic modules battering her opponent’s grip to the side, though she felt the strength behind the blow and knew that the Balnath was stronger.
Still, she knew she could take him.
Ever since she was little she had roughhoused with her brothers and the local boys in fights around their ranch, and had learned the hard way from an early age that her gender and short build worked against her when facing her peers, so she had trained to be the strongest she could be, and learned to be quick and tactical to make the best use of that.
She had eventually kept up with the neighbourhood boys, using holds and precise strikes until her elders found out what she was doing when she was meant to be working on the ranch to help the family scrape by, and quickly put a stop to the shenanigans.
When she moved to the city, she only got better from there.
The tip of her staff thundered against the Balnath’s shield like the striking of a gong, forcing the larger being back as Nika could tell he was already tiring. Though she wanted to finish this fight quickly and get to her friends, she knew she couldn’t allow herself to give her opponent an opening, even as she sought to exploit an opening of her own. She had to be patient.
Her staff rattled against the shield again and again, as she felt her opponent’s defence get weaker and weaker, with the powerful force of her kinetic module focusing the strength of her strikes into a single point. Eventually something would break, his shield of his arm. Once his defences were finally down, she would go in swiftly for the kill.
Her opponent’s frustration won out as his shield shattered and fell to the floor, forcing him to attack Nika with a vicious two handed swipe. She blocked the strike handily, before the Balnath grabbed her staff, locking them in a clinch.
“Giff me sthome help over ‘ere!” The Balnath called out, as Nika reached for a knife, forcing the Balnath to adjust his stance as she stabbed blindly, glancing off armoured plates before finding purchase somewhere, causing her attacker to grunt with pain as he shoved her back, holding her up against a wall.
‘Shit.’ She cursed in her mind. ‘He’s stronger than me, but all I need is a moment to take him by surprise and I can break away and kill him!’
She held strong with her arms, holding the Balnath back as his jaws snapped shut barely an inch away from her neck. He tried again, and she pushed back harder, the jaws snapping shut around nothing, but much closer this time.
He tried again, bringing his vicious maw even closer still…
‘Gotcha!’ Nika thought to herself, as she jerked her head forward in a headbutt, catching the Balnath by surprise and giving the Kizun the space she needed to bring her knees up to her chin, before kicking out as hard as she could into the face of the Balnath, knocking him back with a roar of pain, before he leapt forward with a side swipe that Nika used her tail to quickly dodge, before in the same motion she brought the tip of her staff round and smacked the Balnath as hard as she could, right in the face, the powerful strike shattering its lower jaw completely.
“My fathce!” the attacker got out, clutching what little remained of his lower jaw, before looking up in the next moment as they stared down the barrel of Nika’s shotgun.
“Plea-” They got out, before their head was obliterated in an explosion of dark, blackish blood as their body clattered uselessly to the ground.
“Fuck you.” The Kizun retorted. Using her tail to quickly clip the sword to the magnets of her armour, Nika could see more Regulators in the crowd heading towards the DJ booth. Quickly checking her weapons, she headed right into the brawl!
*****
“You don’t belong here, girlie!” the thug cackled as their cybernetic arm crackled with electric discharge.
“Replacto!” Alora snarled as she swiped her wand out, blasting her attacker with a sudden flash of light that sent him stumbling back, clutching at his eyes.
“Anyone else?” Alora asked, trying her best to channel Nika’s cool, calm demeanour, crossed with Jack’s intimidating presence as the cluster of gangers and mercenaries all looked around at each other for just a moment, before deciding that the Eladrie wasn’t actually that intimidating, as one tried to rush her with a broken chair.
‘Oh by the Mother Tree! How do those two do it?’ Alora cursed in her mind as she summoned her spiritual weapon - a spear of light - that she quickly stabbed at the fish-like Osi, gutting them in the stomach which quickly made them drop the chair, while Alora wisely moved to the side to get out of the vicious melee happening all around her. Where were the others?
‘I have to make sure they’re all right.’ the Eladrie determinedly told herself as she began casting another, more complicated spell…
“Attention all idiots!” The voice over the speakers sneered out over the ever-changing music that the DJ didn’t seem to have any control over. “We discussed this. Though the Outsider is a priority, you target the spellcasters first if you can! Must I do everything myself?”
Thrumming with sudden power, the turrets above them finally opened fire, shooting almost indiscriminately at the crowd below, cutting several of the brawling patrons down before they even knew what hit them.
Chanting and waving her hands around as quickly as she dared, Alora maintained her concentration of her spell, completing it just in time as the turrets finally tracked her as she summoned a great holy aura of light to cover herself that would give her the protection she needed, the Armour of Faith deflecting the lights of the laser turrets harmlessly aside.
A loud bark sounded out, and knowing Dante’s warning for what it was, Alora spun around to see two Regulators, who were both Vulstas fighting through the brawl to get to her. Unlike Rena, these two were males, both carrying plasma shotguns but unable to get effective shots off through the crowd. Not that something like that stopped them from trying…
“Stevarin!” she yelled out, pointing her wand at one of the two who was about to open fire on a downed ganger, as with a flash of yellow light their movements slowed, quickly freezing stiff as a board as they failed to resist the Holding spell, their eyes widening in sheer terror as the gang-mates of their would-be-victim set upon them in a fury with fists and clubs, before a spell cast from the rafters sent all of them clattering to the ground clutching at their minds.
‘One of the enemy mages providing overwatch.’ Alora noted as she quickly looked up for any sign of them, but not seeing them. ‘Under a veil of invisibility no doubt.’
Feeling the dull impact of a shotgun blast dissipate harmlessly against her magical armour, Alora spun round to the other Regulator, cursing her moment of hesitation as the Vulsta drew a long knife with which to get in close with.
Remembering her fight with Izadora all those weeks ago, Alora waved her arms around quickly to summon a bubble of light to engulf her, before quickly following it up with an explosive flash that thundered all around her like a flashbang grenade, while leaving her unharmed.
As the light dissipated, she deftly avoided the blind lunge from the temporarily blinded Regulator, before jamming her spear into his stomach, using her reach advantage to dodge the desperate swipes he sent her way.
“Garrash!” Alora spoke a quick cantrip, using her affinity with life magic to channel poison through the top of her spear. Her already-weakened attacker quickly slumped to the ground as the debilitating effects took hold, but before Alora could pull her spear back, she was hit by a spell that came from above, disrupting her magic and causing her magical spear and armour to disappear.
‘Damn! It’s that mage above me!’ Alora cursed to herself as she quickly ran underneath one of the balconies, as the turrets chased after her with gunfire. ‘You want to hide in the shadows like a coward? I’ve got something to fix that!’
Quickly making sure there weren’t any immediate threats around, Alora quickly rummaged through her pockets for a wand of white crystal she had prepared about a year ago that still had a few charges. Casting quickly, she levelled it towards the ceiling and prayed to all the gods that she was aiming it at where the enemy mage was hiding,
“Glitasha!”
A spray of shining, sparkling particles of light shot out of her wand, puffing out to cover a good half of the ceiling, and as they began to fall to the floor and latch on to the people below, Alora spotted a huddled form by one of the rafters.
‘Got you!’ She thought with satisfaction.
“Ilthax! Get out of there!” The voice over the speakers warned, presumably the name of her target, but it was too late…
“Solaris!” Alora yelled, throwing her palms out in a thrust as a great javelin of light shot out of her palms. The enemy mage had barely moved before it impaled their centre of mass, sending what must have been a fireball spell way off target which blasted apart a huge, gaping hole in the back wall.
The invisible form of the glitterdust-covered mage slowly began to materialise as the blue-furred, ape-like Regulator clutched at their chest in pain, with wide eyes of disbelief at the spear of hard light that had gone right through their torso. As their flight spell dissipated, their lifeless body fell three stories from the rafters to slam down on the ground floor below.
“Nice one Alora!” the Eladrie heard the voice call from behind her as Nika came up next to her, the Kizun bleeding from a cut on her face. “Where are the others?”
“I don’t know. But we need to find them now!” Alora frantically told them as she took in the sheer state of chaos around them. Many broken bodies lay amongst the carnage, and though the Eladrie knew some would likely be still alive at the end of the night, she knew that many would not.
“You don’t need to tell me twice!” Nika agreed with a grim expression.
*****
First/Previous
Looks like Jack, Nika and Alora are holding on for now! But how long can they keep it up?
Don't forget to check out The Galactic High Info Sheet! If you want to remind yourself of certain characters and factions. One new chapter a week can seem like a while! Don't forget! You all have the ability to leave comments and notes to the entries, which I encourage you to do!
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I love this sub so much! I've learned of brands I've never heard of and wanted to return the favor. I created a list of brands we love in this sub with hyperlinks! They are in alphabetical order because I couldn't possibly rank these as we have quite the range of loves!
I thought it'd be nice to include well-known brands for anyone just getting their start in their handbag journey.

• Ackermann: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Luxury leather goods with a focus on craftsmanship and timeless design.
• Acne Studios: Based in Stockholm, Sweden. Made in Italy. Known for: Contemporary and minimalist designs, innovative materials, and effortlessly cool style.
• Adelle Stoll: Based in New York, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags with a modern aesthetic and attention to detail.
• Aesop: Based in Melbourne, Australia. Made in Australia. Known for: High-quality skincare products and minimalist design aesthetic.
• Aesther Ekme: Based in Copenhagen, Denmark. Made in Italy. Known for: Architectural-inspired leather goods with a focus on clean lines and functionality.
• Alaïa: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Avant-garde and sculptural designs, impeccable craftsmanship, and body-conscious silhouettes.
• Alexander McQueen: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy. Known for: Avant-garde fashion and innovative design under the creative direction of Sarah Burton.
• Animal Handmade: Based in Bali, Indonesia. Made in Bali. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a bohemian aesthetic.
• Anya Hindmarch: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy. Known for: Playful and whimsical designs, including the iconic "I Am Not A Plastic Bag" tote.
• APC: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and Portugal. Known for: Minimalist and understated French fashion with a focus on quality materials and craftsmanship.
• Aranaz: Based in Manila, Philippines. Made in the Philippines. Known for: Handwoven bags and accessories inspired by Filipino craftsmanship and culture.
• Aspinal of London: Based in London, UK. Made in England. Known for: Luxury leather goods including handbags, wallets, and accessories with a timeless British aesthetic.
• Ateliers Auguste: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Contemporary leather bags and accessories designed for urban living.
• Aimee Kestenberg: Based in New York, USA. Made in China. Known for: Fashion-forward handbags and accessories with a focus on functionality and versatility.
• Balenciaga: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Avant-garde designs and innovative silhouettes under the creative direction of Demna Gvasalia.
• Bally: Based in Caslano, Switzerland. Made in Switzerland and Italy. Known for: Classic and elegant leather goods with a focus on craftsmanship and quality.
• Bleu de Chauffe: Based in Ariège, France. Made in France. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags inspired by workwear and vintage styles.
• BOYY: Based in Bangkok, Thailand. Made in Thailand. Known for: Structured handbags and accessories featuring oversized buckles and bold hardware.
• Brandon Blackwood: Based in New York, USA. Made in China. Known for: Contemporary handbags with a focus on inclusivity and social consciousness.
• Bolinder Stockholm: Based in Stockholm, Sweden. Made in Italy. Known for: Timeless leather goods with a Scandinavian design aesthetic.
• Bottega Veneta: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Intrecciato woven leather and understated luxury under the creative direction of Daniel Lee.
• Brunello Cucinelli: Based in Solomeo, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Luxurious cashmere clothing and accessories with an emphasis on ethical and sustainable practices.
• Burberry: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Iconic trench coats, British heritage, and classic plaid patterns.
• By Far: Based in Sofia, Bulgaria. Made in Bulgaria. Known for: Retro-inspired handbags and shoes with a modern twist.
• Campomaggi: Based in Teodorano, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a distressed and vintage look.
• Cafune: Based in Hong Kong. Made in China. Known for: Minimalist and functional handbags designed for the modern woman.
• Carolina Herrera: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Timeless elegance and feminine designs, including the iconic "Good Girl" fragrance.
• Celine: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Minimalist and modern designs under the creative direction of Hedi Slimane.
• Chanel: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and Italy. Known for: Iconic quilted handbags, timeless elegance, and classic fashion under the creative direction of Virginie Viard.
• Charles & Keith: Based in Singapore. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Trendy and affordable footwear and accessories for the fashion-forward woman.
• Chloe: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Bohemian-inspired designs, including the iconic "Drew" and "Faye" handbags.
• Chylak: Based in Warsaw, Poland. Made in Poland. Known for: Minimalist and timeless leather bags with a focus on quality and craftsmanship.
• Clare V: Based in Los Angeles, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Chic and playful designs, including the iconic "Le Box" and "Le Big Sac" clutches.
• Coccinelle: Based in Sala Baganza, Italy. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Colorful and contemporary handbags with a youthful aesthetic.
• Coperni: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and Italy. Known for: Innovative and geometric designs inspired by technology and architecture.
• Cult Gaia: Based in Los Angeles, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Unique and sculptural handbags and accessories, including the iconic "Ark" bag.
• Cuyana: Based in San Francisco, USA. Made in Italy, Turkey, and other locations. Known for: Timeless and versatile essentials with a focus on sustainability and craftsmanship.
• Deadly Ponies: Based in Auckland, New Zealand. Made in New Zealand. Known for: Luxury leather goods with a focus on quality and innovation.
• Demellier: Based in London, UK. Made in Spain. Known for: Classic and elegant handbags crafted from sustainable materials.
• Delvaux: Based in Brussels, Belgium. Made in Belgium. Known for: Timeless and luxurious leather goods with a rich heritage dating back to 1829.
• Dior: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and France. Known for: Iconic designs, including the "Lady Dior" and "Diorama" handbags, under the creative direction of Maria Grazia Chiuri.
• Elleme: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and Portugal. Known for: Minimalist and contemporary handbags with clean lines and geometric shapes.
• Fendi: Based in Rome, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Luxurious fur and leather goods, including the iconic "Baguette" and "Peekaboo" bags.
• Fleuron: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Timeless elegance and craftsmanship, offering luxury leather goods and accessories with a focus on sophisticated designs and high-quality materials.
• Fount: Based in Cleveland, USA. Made in Mexico or the Dominican Republic. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on quality materials and timeless design.
• Furla: Based in Bologna, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Colorful and accessible luxury handbags and accessories with a playful aesthetic.
• GG Maull: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Artistic and innovative designs with a focus on functionality and craftsmanship.
• Givenchy: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Avant-garde designs and urban chic style under the creative direction of Matthew M. Williams.
• Gucci: Based in Florence, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Iconic GG logo, vibrant prints, and eclectic designs under the creative direction of Alessandro Michele.
• Hammit: Based in Los Angeles, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Edgy and versatile handbags with a focus on functionality and craftsmanship.
• Hemlock and Hyde: Based in Cleveland, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories inspired by American heritage and vintage styles.
• Hevitz: Based in Seoul, South Korea. Made in South Korea. Known for: Elegant and sophisticated handbags with a modern twist.
• Hereu: Based in Barcelona, Spain. Made in Spain. Known for: Handcrafted leather goods inspired by Mediterranean culture and traditional craftsmanship.
• Hermès: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Timeless luxury, exquisite craftsmanship, and iconic designs such as the "Birkin" and "Kelly" bags.
• Hulme: Based in Manchester, UK. Made in UK. Known for: Sustainable and functional bags with a focus on recycled materials and innovative design.
• Irevedi: Based in Seoul, South Korea. Made in South Korea. Known for: Minimalist and understated designs with a focus on quality materials and craftsmanship.
• JW Anderson: Based in London, UK. Made in Spain and Italy. Known for: Avant-garde designs that blend traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics.
• Joseph Duclos: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Elegant and timeless leather bags with a focus on luxury and craftsmanship.
• Just Campagne: Based in Saint-Junien, France. Made in France. Known for: Traditional French craftsmanship and heritage-inspired designs.
• Kate Spade: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Playful and colorful designs, including the iconic "Kate Spade New York" logo.
• Lanvin: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and France. Known for: Sophisticated and luxurious fashion with a focus on draping and fluidity.
• Lancel: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: French elegance and craftsmanship, including the iconic "Premier Flirt" and "Charlie" bags.
• Le Tanneur: Based in Romans-sur-Isère, France. Made in France. Known for: Classic and refined leather goods with a focus on quality and functionality.
• Leatherology: Based in Carrollton, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Personalized leather goods and accessories with a modern and minimalist aesthetic.
• Leo et Violette: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: Timeless and elegant leather bags and accessories with a focus on quality materials.
• Lemaire: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: Minimalist and understated designs with a focus on quality and craftsmanship.
• Liebeskind: Based in Berlin, Germany. Made in India and China. Known for: Contemporary and urban-inspired handbags and accessories.
• Little Liffner: Based in Stockholm, Sweden. Made in Italy. Known for: Scandinavian minimalism and sleek designs with a playful twist.
• Loewe: Based in Madrid, Spain. Made in Spain. Known for: Innovative leather craftsmanship and avant-garde designs under the creative direction of Jonathan Anderson.
• Lotuff: Based in Providence, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on traditional techniques and materials.
• Louis Vuitton: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and other locations. Known for: Iconic monogram canvas, luxury travel goods, and innovative designs.
• Mako: Based in Seoul, South Korea. Made in South Korea. Known for: Modern and edgy designs with a focus on functionality and versatility.
• Mandel: Based in Berlin, Germany. Made in Europe. Known for: Sleek and minimalist designs with a focus on quality craftsmanship and materials.
• Mansur Gavriel: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Clean lines, vibrant colors, and timeless designs, including the iconic "Bucket" bag.
• Manufactum: Based in Waltrop, Germany. Made in Germany and Europe. Known for: High-quality and sustainable products for everyday life.
• Marc Jacobs: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Quirky and eclectic designs, including the iconic "Snapshot" and "The Softbox" bags.
• [MCM](https://www.mcmworldwide.com/): Based in Munich, Germany. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Luxury leather goods with the iconic "Cognac Visetos" monogram.
• Metier: Based in London, UK. Made in Spain and Italy. Known for: Timeless and elegant leather goods with a focus on craftsmanship and functionality.
• Mlouye: Based in Istanbul, Turkey. Made in Turkey. Known for: Modern and architectural designs with a focus on versatility and functionality.
• Moreau: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on traditional French craftsmanship.
• Motherhouse: Based in Tokyo, Japan. Made in Japan. Known for: Minimalist and functional designs inspired by Japanese craftsmanship and aesthetics.
• Mulberry: Based in Somerset, UK. Made in UK and other locations. Known for: Classic British style, including the iconic "Bayswater" and "Alexa" bags.
• Nanushka: Based in Budapest, Hungary. Made in Hungary. Known for: Modern and sustainable fashion with a focus on vegan leather and innovative materials.
• Neil Felipp: Based in Cebu, Philippines. Made in the Philippines. Known for: Handcrafted clutches and minaudières inspired by Philippine culture and craftsmanship.
• Nichole Kwon: Based in Houston, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Elevated essentials and statement pieces with a focus on quality and craftsmanship.
• Orciani: Based in Fano, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: High-quality leather goods with a focus on innovation and functionality.
• Opelle: Based in Toronto, Canada. Made in Canada. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on minimalist design and quality materials.
• Oroton: Based in Sydney, Australia. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Luxury accessories with a focus on craftsmanship and timeless design.
• Osoi: Based in Seoul, South Korea. Made in South Korea. Known for: Contemporary and minimalist designs with a focus on functionality and versatility.
• Patricia Nash: Based in Knoxville, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Vintage-inspired leather bags and accessories with a bohemian flair.
• Parker Clay: Based in Santa Barbara, USA. Made in Ethiopia. Known for: Ethically-made leather goods crafted by artisans in Ethiopia.
• Pinko: Based in Fidenza, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Contemporary and feminine designs with a focus on bold prints and innovative fabrics.
• Portland Leather Goods: Based in Portland, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on sustainability and quality.
• Polene: Based in Paris, France. Made in Spain. Known for: Chic and minimalist designs with a focus on craftsmanship and affordability.
• Prada: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Iconic nylon bags, innovative designs, and timeless luxury under the creative direction of Miuccia Prada.
• Proenza Schoeler: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Edgy and contemporary designs, including the iconic "PS1" and "Hex" bags.
• Radley: Based in London, UK. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Playful and functional designs with a British heritage aesthetic.
• Repetto: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Classic ballet flats and dance-inspired fashion with a focus on craftsmanship and comfort.
• The Row: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and USA. Known for: Luxurious fabrics, impeccable tailoring, and understated elegance, offering timeless pieces including handbags known for their simplicity and quality craftsmanship.
• Sacai: Based in Tokyo, Japan. Made in Japan. Known for: Innovative and hybrid designs that blur the lines between fashion and function.
• Saint Laurent (YSL): Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and France. Known for: Rock 'n' roll aesthetic, iconic tuxedo jackets, and the "Sac de Jour" and "Kate" bags.
• Saonara: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on traditional Italian craftsmanship.
• Savette: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Timeless and elegant leather goods with a focus on quality and craftsmanship.
• Serapian: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Luxury leather goods with a focus on craftsmanship and innovation.
• Smaak Amsterdam: Based in Amsterdam, Netherlands. Made in China. Known for: Contemporary and stylish bags designed for the modern woman.
• Songmont: Based in Guangzhou, China. Made in China. Known for: Affordable and trendy handbags and accessories with a focus on quality and style.
• State of Escape: Based in Sydney, Australia. Made in Australia. Known for: Neoprene tote bags with a minimalist aesthetic, perfect for beach days and everyday use.
• Strathberry: Based in Edinburgh, UK. Made in Spain. Known for: Clean lines and signature bar closure design, including the iconic "Strathberry Midi Tote."
• Tia Woven: Based in Manila, Philippines. Made in the Philippines. Known for: Handwoven bags and accessories that showcase Filipino craftsmanship and heritage.
• Thom Browne: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Tailored suits, preppy style, and avant-garde designs.
• Tod’s: Based in Sant'Elpidio a Mare, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Classic driving shoes, leather goods, and luxury accessories.
• Tory Burch: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Preppy-chic designs, including the iconic "T" logo and "Robinson" tote.
• Valextra: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Sleek and minimalist designs with a focus on fine craftsmanship and premium materials.
• Wandler: Based in Amsterdam, Netherlands. Made in Italy. Known for: Sculptural and modern handbags with clean lines and bold shapes.
• Wicker Darling: Based in Bali, Indonesia. Made in Indonesia. Known for: Handwoven wicker bags and accessories with a bohemian aesthetic.
• Yu Mei: Based in Wellington, New Zealand. Made in New Zealand. Known for: Modern and functional leather bags designed for everyday use.
• Yuzefi: Based in London, UK. Made in Spain. Known for: Bold and sculptural designs with a focus on artisanal craftsmanship and unexpected details.
• Zarah Juan: Based in Manila, Philippines. Made in the Philippines. Known for: Handwoven bags and accessories that celebrate Filipino culture and tradition.

I hope you found this fun! Happy to edit this list for any ones that I missed!

The titles pretty much tells the story. I was under the impression that crafting materials were the things to sell on TP but looking yesterday, they aren’t that lucrative per piece. I have been salvaging everything I get for the past 2 weeks but I was getting more money selling items than salvaging them. I know alt parking is a thing but what do you get from that? I have been doing world boss trains since they are pretty easy, but I don’t know what I should be keeping vs selling. I maxed leather working so I could make ascended gear but I don’t have any recipes for them. I have zero clue what the mystic forge is for lol I planned on looking it up once I get my four mains geared and HP-ed into their specs.
TLDR: the goal is to make some passive money while I complete stories and stuff. I was thinking something like spending 1 hour to do the gold stuff and the rest of the play time doing story or WvW.

Hello, yes, it is another topic about wide feet. In the past few years I have went through several shoes and brands and even some were pretty decent after 10-15 km my pinkie starts to protest, especially once I go from terrain to harden surface like road or pavement.
The only shoe that feels fine is Altra Lone Peak 8 in Wide Edition but that is a trail shoe and even though it was OK on a recent hike I don’t feel comfortable taking them to abroad hiking trip. It simply does not feel durable enough as a hiking shoe.
The situation is even more difficult since my shoe size is US 15/UK 14/EU 50 which are harder to get in Wide edition, especially in Europe. Also I prefer low shoes.
Here are some other shoes I have recently tried: Salomon X ULTRA 4 Wide GTX – too narrow Lowa Renegade GTX Low Wide – too narrow Meindl Lugano – seemed little bit better but still tight, the leather si propably not flexible enough
Shoes I have good experience with but after 10-15 km pinkie starts to hurt: Columbia Peakfreak X2 Outdry Merrell Forestbound WP Merrell Moab 3 GTX
All three in Standard width since I was not able to get them Wide in my location and I have no idea if it would be better. But it is true that these feel wider in standard than Salomon Wide etc.
If I’m in the terrain for the most of the time it is much better but in the end there is usually harden surface on the road or when you are getting to hotel/airbnb.
Thank you for your advices and tips.

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Here we are again in the shit stew that is the Fallowveil trailer park. We’ve got soul eating strippers, jobs that kill us, and plenty of weirdos, both the trailer trash and the potentially paranormal variety. It’s the place where even your own computer sometimes threatens to kill you. I can’t tell if I should be worried, or annoyed that all my neighbors have such irresponsible web habits. I know it’s not me that brings in all these machine wiping viruses.
So even though I got a system error that literally said “you’re useless and you should die” I’m less interested in that. Stupid thing. Like I don’t already know I’m useless. That’s not what I’m depressed about.
Well… I suppose it's tangentially related.
I hope anyone reading will forgive me. I’m feeling the sting of rejection right now. It was really stupid of me to ask. Especially now. Nobody here really likes me. They’ve only been nice to me as a courtesy because I was almost involved in a god damn shootout. And my idiot self decided that was the perfect time to push one of my few friends all the way away. Never ask your friends out on dates. It ruins everything.
So there’s this woman. I’ve talked about her in the past. Trista Ramone. She lives in the far back corner of the trailer park. You can instantly tell which unit is hers because she’s covered every square inch of the property with gardens and a rabbit hutch. The place usually has beads and colorful flags hanging on its walls as well. She’s kind of a right winger’s nightmare. I know some of those flags represent various lgbtq plus communities.
She and I have been friendly in the past. We’re both night shift workers. We crossed paths quite a bit going to and from work so we struck up a friendship over the years.
Let’s just ripped the band aid off. Recently I’ve started thinking I had… stronger feelings for Trista. I got stupid and decided to tell her about them. She wasn’t interested. I get why. We have very different lifestyles. I like meat, and she thinks the meat industry is murder. I’m not willing to give up meat, and she’s not willing to give up her beliefs. It's as simple as that. Now things are incredibly awkward with one of my closer friends and I’m still spiraling into self loathing, where I belong.
She swore up and down that she absolutely still wants to be friends with me, but I’m not sure I believe her. The look she gave me when I told her I’d like to ask her out. It looked like sadness, but a small part of me is convinced it was pity, or worse, disgust and loathing, and that small part gave me ever shuts the fuck up. But anyway, she gave me permission to write about her.
She is one of the creepy fixtures of our little neighborhood after all. She told me to make her seem as insane and scary as I possibly could and that she should get to kill me at the end. She also handed me a few of her high school yearbooks, advised me to chat with another neighbor of ours who she went to school with, and to only use creepy rumors for the rest.
Part of me is really willing to describe her as awful, but that’s just my anger. I don’t like that part of me. Trista’s not a bad person at all. She’s just weird and she doesn’t want to date me. God damn it, Petunia’s right. I need therapy.
So, I’ve told the story of the sexy, scary lady living in a polycule here in the trailer park. I think she’s got a bigger heart than she lets on. I’ve talked about the stories surrounding the Schroeder Slaughterhouse. Now let’s talk about the hippy everyone thinks is a vampire.
She’s a taller woman, maybe five-seven or eight, and she’s skinny. Her typical wardrobe is… interesting. Try to imagine your typical new-age hippy/stoner girl, wearing colorful sarongs, crop-tops, beanies, baggy sweaters, T-shirts with colorful sayings on them, sandals, boots woven from some sort of exotic plant, beaded necklaces, bracelets, a few too many piercings and some intricate tattoos. Can you picture that kind of person? Well, take that and dip them in “goth” dye. Everything is black, and contrasts to her pale white complexion, her eyes are this unusual violet color, and then make the woman wearing all that seem kind of depressed about something. That’s the look Trista has going on. Like if Wednesday Addams was forced to dress up for Hippy Day.
I’ve heard people call her an emo vampire, but as a former emo myself, she doesn’t fill out all the criteria. She doesn’t typically wear any super tight pants or cake on the eyeshadow. I guess she’s just Trista. It might sound weird (and it is) but the whole thing suits her. Her style, tattoos, and complexion all create this image of skinny vampiric waif with a mysterious past and a freaky sarcastic attitude and I found the whole thing… kinda hot.
Trista keeps to herself. She’s made the most out of her little corner of the trailer park. Like I said, she decked out her unit with garden squares, and a Rabbit pen. No idea why she’s allowed to do that. A lot of these places don’t allow pets. I heard she was also trying to put in a beehive too, but her neighbors are fighting her on that one. Our park is a bit too condensed for bees. She has a permit to grow hemp, but of course it’s not for recreational use. She treats it and uses it to weave things like handbags, clothes, and other stuff. There’s a consignment store in town that sells all kinds of things Trista has crafted herself. So she’s handy and self sufficient too. She paints, she carves wood, she weaves, she crochets, she sews, and who knows what else. She’s so good at her little crafts that apparently she’s able to support herself just selling them and working part time at the Moonlight Inn outside of town.
She’s also relatively friendly. I almost feel bad calling her weird, but here’s the thing, I’ve seen some REALLY weird shit. People jokingly call her a vampire, and she seems to embrace that, but part of me seriously wonders. The big clue is, like I mentioned, she’s completely nocturnal. She’s always asleep during the day, and every blind and curtain is drawn tight. The one time she came out during the day, she had on this full body suit with a helmet with UV glass and everything. Even then, she only showed up to give Petunia a hug, before leaving again.
That was the first time I saw Trista, come to think of it. I was kind of intrigued. It was kind of hard not to be when someone shows up to a community cookout in a freaking astronaut suit. I approached Petunia after she left.
“Who the heck was that?” I wondered.
“MASON! I’m so glad you could make it! You’ve been here about three months now! How’d that job interview go?”
“Oh. It went well. I might be doing janitorial work soon.”
“Night shift?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“If it’s the night shift, you’ll definitely meet the person who just left. That’s Trista. She’s the girl with the rabbits in the far corner. Poor girl. She’s got a really bad skin condition. Can’t let sunlight touch her.”
“Oh. Is she like… albino or something?”
“No, she’s got pigment. I don’t remember what the condition is called. I guess it started in high school or something. You’d have to ask her. And hey! If you work the night shift, you’ll probably get to chat with her!”
Petunia wasn’t wrong. I started working as a nighttime janitor for a number of local businesses. That was when I first started noticing the pale goth hippy. She rides around on a moped, with her dark hair and her sarong barely billowing behind her. I couldn’t see her face through the helmet, but she waved to me as she passed by.
The next time I saw her, she was jogging, but here’s where it gets weird. When I first stepped outside, all I saw was a blur. It actually startled me as I whipped toward it, but then there was this skinny tattooed pixie, somehow still looking like a stonehippy/vampire in jogging gear. I swear she was moving inhumanly fast when I first noticed her. That was when we introduced ourselves. She actually jogged over to say hello.
“Hey! You’re the new guy right?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. My name’s Mason!” I reached out to shake the pretty girl’s hand, like an awkward loser. She smirked and shook my hand. Her grip was weirdly strong, and a bit cold.
“I’m Trista. I’m the weirdo in the back with the rabbits.”
“Trista… oh, are you the one who has a thing with sunlight? I think Petunia mentioned you.”
“Yup! That’s me. Xerodoma pigmentosum. Sunlight hurts. I hate that it hurts.” She lamented.
“That’s gotta be rough,” I said sympathetically.
“You get used to it. You work at night?”
“Yeah. Works better for me.”
“I get that.”
And so on and so on. She’s pretty cool, with a bit of hilarious snark in there. And she secretly procured recreational weed she was willing to share. I kept working the night shift just hoping for another chance to talk to her and possibly buy a joint. Eventually she invited me over to share a joint. The inside of her place was actually pretty sparse and spartan compared to the outside. Though she was a fan of hanging beads. Most of the main room was taken up by her various crafting projects and supplies. Hemp weaves, some paintings, and even a wood carving of what I think was a rabbit, but it wasn’t anywhere near complete.
I followed her to her kitchen where she reached into the very back of her pantry and pulled out a shoebox. Inside was her stash, but there was something else which I found very strange. It was a pack of syringes and a thing I assume is to sterilize syringes. I know what you’re thinking, and that was my first thought too. It’s a poor neighborhood, the woman already smokes weed illegally, it’s not that big a shock that maybe she was involved in other drugs too. I decided not to ask at the time. We shared our joint, and we laughed, a lot. She made fun of me for being a lightweight, while I got completely hypnotized staring at the patterns of a shawl she had woven.
Months went by and we got closer, but I couldn’t forget those syringes. After a while I got worried. I’ve seen what heroine does to people. So the next time I went over to smoke and eat (vegan) pizza with her, I asked.
“Trista? Are you using anything other than weed?”
“Drugs?”
“Yeah.”
“No. Why?”
“You can tell me if you are.”
“Mason, sweetheart, I’m a stoner. I don’t fuck around with anything else and I never have.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay. Can I ask what that set of syringes are for?”
“Oh. In my stash box? Those are… part of my condition. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh. Is it like… embarrassing?”
“Yeah. So don’t ask. Can we just watch a movie?”
So I don't ask anymore. But I still have no idea what she does with those syringes. Based on what I read about that Xerodoma Pigmentosum thing she says she has, I have no clue what she would need to inject herself with.
Another time she asked me to check on her rabbits for her during the day, as her usual “sitter” had something come up. All I had to do was chop up the lettuce and carrots she left out. As I was enjoying the adorable fluffy faces, one of Trista’s neighbors, a woman named Bridget, poked her head outside her door.
“Hey. Do you know what Trista injects those rabbits with?”
“I… what?”
“I’ve seen her use syringes on those rabbits. She said she was just giving them medicine, but I swear I see her inject them every week.”
“I… I wouldn't know. She just asked me to feed them.”
“I love Trista, but that always seemed so weird. She has to know vaccines are a hoax!” I tuned the woman out after that one. My mind was on that set of syringes. Why would she be using them on rabbits? These things were her pets.
I was starting to crush on her by then. But I couldn’t help feeling weirded out by that. I was actually going to confront her, but the next time I came to visit, she was literally inside the Rabbit hutch, on her back, squealing with delight as her rabbit friends nuzzled and played with her.
“Bonnibelle! That tickles! Marcy! No chewing. Finn? Watch where you’re sticking that foot! Jake? Where are you? EEEEE Lumpy! Not the neck!”
It was as silly and adorable as it sounds. She was forced to whip herself upright when two of her little friends tried to burrow under her dress. She finally stood up with a laugh, cradling a rabbit in her arms and cooing at it.
There was just no way in hell this woman was doing anything that would hurt these animals. Bridget is a paranoid antivax weirdo anyway. If Trista was using syringes on the rabbits, I was convinced it was only for their benefit.
So life went on. I got more and more reclusive over the years. Petunia, Trista, and my next door neighbor Fred were the only things keeping me remotely connected to the outside. And so we get to now. So let’s see. What are the stories about the weird vampire woman?
Well, there’s the fact that she jogs at night, solo, in a poor neighborhood. Petunia keeps the shitty people contained and behaving for the most part, but I still wouldn’t exactly call it safe, especially for a young skinny woman. But she does it without a care in the world.
There’s one strange event that some people like to connect to this. I never knew this guy, but from what I hear he was a total weirdo who leered at anyone even remotely female. And this is despite the fact he was married. His name was Josh.
I remember him a bit. He’s the guy that Petunia chased away from one of her barbecues. Supposedly he was heard saying inappropriate things to the groups of ten year old girls that were playing in the bounce house Petunia rented. Telling them how pretty they were. Trying to coax them to take off their jackets. Police reports were filed but ultimately nothing could be proven. The guy's wife, Carole, always defends him for some reason.
But anyway, I remember hanging out with Trista one night a little over a year ago. She hadn’t gone jogging like she normally did. I asked her what was up with that.
“That weirdo, Josh has started catcalling when I pass his place. It weirds me out.”
“There aren’t other people who do that at night? I’m still shocked you jog alone.”
“Not like this. I can flip off a wolf whistler. But this guy… he keeps trying to get me to stop and talk to him, and when I don’t? He shouts about my ass. I’m gonna have to talk to Petunia about that shithead, if anybody can reign him in, it’s her.”
I’m gonna guess she never got a chance. Two days later, the whole town was awoken by sirens. I was getting ready for my shift when I heard them. I walked down the road a bit to see if I could figure out what was going on. The cops were heading toward the other side of the park, so I couldn’t see much. But I did notice Trista, in her jogging gear, skulking in the shadows. I wondered if she was in trouble. But before I could call out to her, she sprinted straight to Petunia's house and banged on the door. Petunia welcomed her inside, and that was all I saw. I still wasn’t sure what was going on, so I just shrugged and headed to work, figuring I’d text Trista later.
I didn’t learn till later that Josh was found dead. He was lying prone, face down, partly hidden by bushes at the edge of the park. His neck was cut open. He’d bled out rapidly. He had a knife in his hand, and officially it’s believed he fell on it and accidentally killed himself. There was a cocktail of drugs in his system so most people accept that explanation. But others swear they saw Trista out for her jog around the same time Josh would have been bleeding to death. She got questioned, and she swore she didn’t see anything. Without evidence, there was nothing else that could be proven.
Trista’s a friend. I know that guy was being creepy to her. So I’m happy to take her word for what happened, even if my seeing her going to Petunia’s pokes a bit of a hole in that. I can’t be sure it was Trista though. So I’m not saying a word. But if a certain creep attacked a certain lady who is rumored to be a vampire, it’s not that surprising to me that he ended up dead after bleeding to death. I’m not all that broken up about it.
I’m not the one spreading that story. Josh’s wife was the one who started the rumor. So now some people are even more convinced that the weird nocturnal hippy chick is secretly a vampire.
She’s no killer. No matter what they say. She would only have defended herself.
So that’s all the stories I’ve heard that have any credibility to them. There’s more people who swear she and Petunia perform weird rituals, and people who saw her moving “inhumanly fast” and such.
But now I have to share what I found in the yearbooks Trista gave me. I wasn’t really expecting much. I checked her senior yearbook out first. She looks about the same. Pale, goth, hippy, and sort of sad. She kind of looks even sadder in these photos if I’m being honest, but that’s high school for you. She graduated in the top half of her class, no sports or extracurriculars. I’m left wondering how she managed to go to school at the time of sun was so bad for her. I’ll have to ask her about that. So nothing really new there.
It was the yearbook from her junior year where things got really interesting. I was in shock when I found her. Trista is somehow impossible to miss, but unrecognizable all at once. She’s full of color! She wore more typical tie dye hippy attire. Bright vibrant pinks, reds, blues, greens, and yellows, in every photo, and holy shit was she busy. Captain of the soccer team, first chair flutist, president of the “green living” club and the “vegan alliance,” top ten in her class, it was all incredible. I think the main reason I didn’t recognize her was her skin. It was tan, as though she were out in the sun a lot. Furthermore there were photos of her playing sports and standing outside in bright sunlight.
It was like her disease wasn’t there, which confused me. She told me it was something called Xeroderma Pigmentosa. But that’s a genetic condition. She would have had that from birth.
I sent her a text, wondering about this.
- Hey! Just went through your yearbooks. What happened? You had color? Did you discover Linkin Park?
- My disease happened. Right at the end of Jr. year. That’s why I wasn’t there for the final class photo.
- But your disease is genetic… isn’t it?
- I guess it was dormant in me.
- So it just… happened?
- Pretty much.
- I’m sorry.
- I got over it. Mostly. It was hard. My parents were both hardcore vegan naturalists and we lived in a place that was all natural light and such, so I had to live in a shed for a bit while they built a space for me. But in my family? We kinda lean into whatever life throws at us. It took months of depression to come to terms with it. All of a sudden I couldn’t be out in the sun, and I had new dietary needs that absolutely required non-vegan sources. So I leaned into it. I was a vampire now. I can dig dark colors and “vampire style.” I could make it my own by avoiding leather. And I’d be as vegan as I possibly could.
- You’re kind of awesome.
- Damn straight. So I learned to love the night too and now, here I am.
I gained new respect for her after that. Frankly I feel kinda shitty about making fun of her for being a vampire. There might not be anything paranormally weird about her after all.
She sent me one more text telling me I should talk to a guy named Frankie. She’d gone to school with him. He’s a decent enough guy. Works in the Bicounty mall in town.
I had to wait a day or two for another of Petunia’s get togethers to talk to him.
“Hey!” I said awkwardly as I tried to figure out how to strike up conversation with someone I haven’t really spoken to in a long time. “Frankie, right?”
“Oh. Yeah. Been a while. How are you Mason? You okay after that whole thing at Red Nights?”
“I’m trying to be. Look, I’ll cut to the chase. You went to school with Trista Ramone, right?”
“Ol’ Boho Ramone? Yeah. We were sort of friendly. But I was a jerk to vegans back then. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been hanging out with her. She’s being all mysterious.” He chuckled at that. “She said I should talk to you to learn more about her… weirdness? Everyone thinks she’s a vampire now.”
“She’s totally a vampire. I have no idea what else to call her?”
“Why do you say that?”
“What did she tell you about school?”
“Nothing. She just showed me two yearbooks. Between Junior and Senior year she went from colorful club president, to lonely vampire, because of her disease.”
“Nah man. I don’t want to talk bad about her. But she was kind of a bitch, junior year. She wasn’t just a colorful vegan. She was one of those “holier than thou” types who scoffed and talked down to anyone who dared to eat meat. Her “hippy” thing meant she never hung out with the popular girls but still, she acted like she owned the place at times. I was friends with this weird guy named Steven Jones. He was just kind of a weirdo. Skulking around in the background, you know? He HATED Trista. For a while I totally understood. I thought she was kinda stuck up. But this guy was like… irrationally enraged by that girl’s existence. I guess he tried to ask her out when he was a freshman and she politely declined. But he took that shit personally.”
“Huh. So like… why’s that matter?”
“Because Steven kept saying to anyone who gave him a second look, that he was gonna ‘ruin’ her. Never elaborated. But then the last month of school rolls around, Trista gets assaulted by an unknown assailant and a week later she’s got this new disease. Meanwhile, Steven spent a week strutting around the school looking smug, and saying ‘she got what she deserved.’ Then he disappears too. Teachers said he moved away.”
“She was assaulted?”
“Yeah. Someone in a face wrap tackled her while she was at one of her protests at the meat factory. The dude freaking BIT her.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. I was there. I came to the protest. I’ll admit I was trying to hit on Trista or one of the other girls there. But yeah. Dude dressed in all gray with a face wrap just charged in and went right for Trista. Knocked her down, bit her like a freaking zombie, then ran away before anyone could stop him. Didn’t even take his face wrap off. It was freaky, man.”
“What the actual fuck.”
“That’s what we all said. Trista needed a stitch. But while she was at the hospital, I guess she started getting more symptoms. She was out for the rest of the year. From then on, she was like she is now. Total vampire.”
“Was Steven a vampire?”
“I dunno. Probably. Little dickhead is what he is. Must have been him that attacked Trista, but nobody could prove it. Bite mark didn’t match or something. So why are you asking? You hang out with her at night right? You asking her out or something?”
“Oh. No. Just a friend.”
That was all I really learned from Frankie. It’s quite a story, and it’s full of unknowns that Trista refuses to explain. So I guess I’ll let readers be the judge. Is she a “real” vampire? Or just a weirdo? All I know is, she’s totally standing behind me right now and now I’m dead. Bleh.
I did come back to life to talk to Trista once I finished writing this. She enjoyed it. I may as well include that interaction.
I went to her place on my night off. She read my take on her and what the neighbors thought and she grinned. “Ha! I’m a total monster!” She chuckled. “So. What do YOU think, Mason? Am I a vampire?” She cocked an eye and playfully gnashes her teeth at me, making a pleasant little click.
I sighed. “No idea. You’re Trista. And… you’re my friend. I’m sorry if I made things awkward.”
She looked surprised by that. “Aw. Thanks Mason. You’re my friend too. It’s okay. I’m flattered.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“So we’re cool?”
“Absolutely not. We’re both weird shut ins.” She laughed. It was good to hear her laugh. It made me happy.
“Yeah but I got the ‘mysterious vampire’ thing going.”
“You have dirt in your hair from rolling around with bunnies. And you’re a vegan.”
“Bite me.”
“Says the vampire.”
“You know, if I were a vampire, I could have bitten you when we both went to the slaughterhouses a few weeks ago.”
“That just makes me stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Mason. You’re not a loser either.”
“So. You know of any other good spooky town stories that I can do next?
“Oh, sure. You ever heard the tale of Salome? She was a witch who would mash up the seeds of a Sinapis Alba plant to make a diabolical potion she’d dump on herself. They called her the ‘Witch of the Sands.’”
I’m embarrassed to admit it took me four days to realize Trista was just fucking with me. I only figured it out when I looked up Sinapis Alba and learned that mashing the seeds just makes mustard. “Salomi the sand-witch.” Well played, vampire hippy…
Sexy Neighbor
Haunted Slaughterhouse

Want:

• Civil engineer OE/AP/WWR armor pieces (any piece, will bundle)
• Civil engineer Uny/AP/WWR armor pieces (any piece, will bundle)
• Possibly Civil engineer OE/ ? /WWR right leg
• Possibly Civil engineer Uny/ ? /WWR armor pieces (C,LL,RA)
• Blue ridge branding iron V/SS/S & B/SS/S

Have:

Combat armor

• Combat armor chest - Light - level 50 - W/Poi/Cav
• Combat armor left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - AS/Glutt/WWR
• Combat armor left arm - Light - level 50 - B/End/AWR
• Combat armor left arm - Heavy - level 50 - OE/Int/Sent
• Combat armor left arm - Light - level 50 - V/S/AWR
• Combat armor left leg - Heavy - level 50 - B/Cryo/Sent
• Combat armor left leg - Heavy - level 50 - Cl/AP/WWR
• Combat armor left arm - Heavy - level 50 - OE/Env/Cav
• Combat armor left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/S/RadRegen
• Combat armor left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - V/S/Sent
• Combat armor left leg - Heavy - level 50 - W/AP/Sent
• Combat armor right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/C/WWR
• Combat armor right arm - Light - level 50 - V/AP/Cryo
• Combat armor right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - V/AP/Gho

Civil engineer armor

• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/AP/FWR
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/Rad/FWR
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/Glutt/RadRegen
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/End/AWR
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/Poi/Cav
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - N/AP/Sent
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - W/C/Cav
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - W/S/AWR
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - W/Int/WWR
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - W/Explo/Cav
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - Ass/Poi/FWR
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/Cryo/Cryo
• Civil engineer chest - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/S/Poison
• Civil engineer left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Ass/s/Cav
• Civil engineer left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Arist/S/WWR
• Civil engineer left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Cl/Explo/FWR
• Civil engineer left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/End/WWR
• Civil engineer left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/Env/WWR
• Civil engineer left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/A/FWR
• Civil engineer left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/End/JWR
• Civil engineer left arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Z/End/Cav
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Ass/Explo/WWR
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - B/AP/Sent
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/End/FWR
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/Explo/WWR
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/Int/Gho
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/Env/Sent
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Reg/Poi/FWR
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Reg/AP/Cav
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - V/Fire/AWR
• Civil engineer left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/AP/Underwater
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Ass/End/WWR
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Arist/AP/Poison
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - B/Fire/WWR
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - B/Rad/Cav
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/Poi/Cav
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/Explo/Sent
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/Fire/RadRegen
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/Rad/Cav
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Reg/End/WWR
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/Env/Cav
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - V/S/AWR
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - V/Poi/Gho
• Civil engineer right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - V/End/FWR
• Civil engineer right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - M/End/Sent
• Civil engineer right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/AP/Burn
• Civil engineer right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/Fire/15L
• Civil engineer right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/P/Sent
• Civil engineer right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/A/AWR
• Civil engineer right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - W/Poi/AWR

Forest scout armor

• Forest scout chest - Light - level 50 - AS/End/JWR
• Forest scout chest - Light - level 50 - B/Explo/15L
• Forest scout chest - Light - level 50 - OE/C/Cav
• Forest scout chest - Light - level 50 - Uny/Explo/Burn
• Forest scout chest - Light - level 50 - Uny/C/Sent
• Forest scout left arm - Light - level 50 - Cl/AP/WWR
• Forest scout left arm - Light - level 50 - OE/Poi/Cav
• Forest scout left arm - Light - level 50 - Uny/Rad/WWR
• Forest scout left leg - Light - level 50 - Cl/Cryo/WWR
• Forest scout left leg - Light - level 50 - OE/Cryo/Cryo
• Forest scout left leg - Light - level 50 - OE/Cryo/AWR
• Forest scout left leg - Light - level 50 - Uny/Poi/FWR
• Forest scout left leg - Light - level 50 - W/Cryo/WWR
• Forest scout right arm - Light - level 50 - OE/Poi/JWR
• Forest scout right leg - Light - level 50 - OE/Cryo/JWR
• Forest scout right leg - Light - level 50 - Reg/AP/JWR
• Forest scout right leg - Light - level 50 - Uny/Int/AWR

Leather armor

• Leather chest - Sturdy - level 50 - Ass/S/Sent
• Leather chest - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/Cryo/Sent
• Leather chest - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/Rad/WWR
• Leather chest - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/Int/JWR
• Leather chest - Light - level 50 - Uny/S/Cav
• Leather chest - Light - level 50 - V/P/WWR
• Leather chest - Sturdy - level 50 - V/L/Cav
• Leather left arm - Heavy - level 50 - V/Fire/Cav
• Leather left leg - Heavy - level 50 - Cl/AP/Sent
• Leather left leg - Heavy - level 50 - OE/Fire/FWR
• Leather right arm - Light - level 50 - Cl/End/Cav
• Leather right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - OE/S/Cav
• Leather right arm - Light - level 50 - Uny/Rad/WWR
• Leather right arm - Sturdy - level 50 - Reg/AP/Sent
• Leather right arm - Light - level 50 - W/S/WWR
• Leather right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - LS/S/Cav
• Leather right leg - Heavy - level 50 - V/L/Cav

Marine armor

• Marine armor chest - Sturdy - level 45 - Cl/End/WWR
• Marine armor left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - Cl/Explo/AWR
• Marine armor left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - LS/S/FWR
• Marine armor left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - OE/L/Cav
• Marine armor left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - Uny/L/WWR
• Marine armor left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - Uny/AP/15L
• Marine armor left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - V/Explo/Cav
• Marine armor left leg - Sturdy - level 45 - Uny/Env/Sent
• Marine armor left leg - Sturdy - level 45 - V/Explo/Cav
• Marine armor left leg - Sturdy - level 45 - V/Explo/DUR
• Marine armor left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - W/End/FWR
• Marine armor right arm - Sturdy - level 45 - OE/AP/Gho
• Marine armor right arm - Sturdy - level 45 - OE/Int/AWR
• Marine armor right arm - Sturdy - level 45 - V/Explo/Cav
• Marine armor right leg - Sturdy - level 45 - Uny/Env/WWR
• Marine armor right leg - Sturdy - level 45 - Uny/Explo/Sent

Metal armor

• Metal chest - Heavy - level 50 - OE/Poi/Sent
• Metal chest - Heavy - level 50 - Uny/AP/DUR
• Metal chest - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/Explo/AWR
• Metal right arm - Heavy - level 50 - B/Explo/AWR
• Metal right arm - Light - level 50 - V/Poi/WWR
• Metal right arm - Heavy - level 50 - W/L/WWR
• Metal Left arm - Heavy - level 50 - Ch/Poi/WWR
• Metal Left arm - Heavy - level 50 - V/S/AWR
• Metal Left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Ch/Fire/WWR
• Metal Left leg - Light - level 50 - V/Glut/WWR
• Metal Left leg - Light - level 50 - Uny/A/WWR
• Metal right leg - Light - level 50 - Arist/S/Sent
• Metal right leg - Light - level 50 - Ass/Explo/Cav
• Metal right leg - Heavy - level 50 - Uny/Int/15b
• Metal right leg - Light - level 50 - Uny/Int/AWR
• Raider chest - Heavy - level 45 - AS/End/WWR

Raider armor

• Raider chest - Light - level 45 - OE/S/Sent
• Raider chest - Sturdy - level 45 - Reg/Explo/Sent
• Raider chest - Heavy - level 45 - W/AP/RadRegen
• Raider chest - Heavy - level 45 - Uny/Int/DUR
• Raider chest - Heavy - level 45 - V/Explo/WWR
• Raider left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - B/S/Cav
• Raider left arm - Heavy - level 45 - Uny/S/AWR
• Raider left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - V/AP/Sent
• Raider left leg - Sturdy - level 45 - OE/AP/15L
• Raider left leg - Light - level 45 - Uny/AP/Burn
• Raider left leg - Heavy - level 45 - V/Explo/WWR
• Raider right arm - Light - level 45 - Ass/End/Sent
• Raider right arm - Light - level 45 - B/Explo/Cav
• Raider right arm - Sturdy - level 45 - LS/Poi/Cav
• Raider right arm - Sturdy - level 45 - OE/Rad/15L
• Raider right arm - Heavy - level 45 - Uny/Fire/Sent
• Raider right arm - Heavy - level 45 - Uny/P/FWR
• Raider right arm - Light - level 45 - V/Glut/WWR
• Raider right arm - Sturdy - level 45 - Z/End/WWR
• Raider right leg - Heavy - level 45 - OE/Explo/Cryo
• Raider right leg - Light - level 45 - Uny/Explo/FWR
• Raider right leg - Heavy - level 45 - Uny/Poi/JWR
• Raider right leg - Light - level 45 - Uny/S/JWR
• Robot chest - Heavy - level 50 - LS/Cryo/Cav

Robot armor

• Robot chest - Light - level 50 - Uny/E/WWR
• Robot chest - Heavy - level 50 - Uny/S/RadRegen
• Robot left leg - Heavy - level 50 - Ch/AP/WWR
• Robot left leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/AP/AWR
• Robot left leg - Light - level 50 - OE/Explo/AidEffect
• Robot left leg - Light - level 50 - Uny/Glut/WWR
• Robot left leg - Heavy - level 50 - Uny/Glut/Sent
• Robot left leg - Light - level 50 - V/Poi/FWR
• Robot right arm - Light - level 50 - V/Rad/FWR
• Robot right arm - Light - level 50 - V/AP/50FDR
• Robot right leg - Heavy - level 50 - Ass/Explo/Cav
• Robot right leg - Light - level 50 - G/AP/WWR
• Robot right leg - Light - level 50 - OE/Fire/Cav
• Robot right leg - Light - level 50 - Uny/Gourm/Cav
• Robot right leg - Sturdy - level 50 - Uny/Int/AWR
• Robot right leg - Heavy - level 50 - Uny/Int/JWR
• Robot right leg - Light - level 50 - V/AP/15L
• Robot right leg - Light - level 50 - V/Fire/WWR
• Robot right leg - Light - level 50 - V/Fire/Sent

Trapper armor

• Trapper chest - Sturdy - level 45 - B/Explo/Sent
• Trapper chest - Sturdy - level 45 - V/Cryo/Cav
• Trapper left arm - Sturdy - level 45 - Ass/Cryo/FWR
• Trapper left leg - Sturdy - level 45 - V/Cryo/Sent
• Trapper left leg - Sturdy - level 45 - W/Explo/Sent
• Trapper left leg - Sturdy - level 45 - LS/Explo/Cav
• Trapper left leg - Sturdy - level 45 - Z/S/WWR
• Trapper right arm - Sturdy - level 45 - V/Gourm/WWR

Urban scout armor

• Urban scout chest - Light - level 50 - G/Explo/WWR
• Urban scout chest - Light - level 50 - OE/End/Cav
• Urban scout chest - Light - level 50 - Reg/Fire/WWR
• Urban scout chest - Light - level 50 - Uny/S/Poison
• Urban scout chest - Light - level 50 - V/Env/Cav
• Urban scout left arm - Light - level 50 - Arist/Int/Sent
• Urban scout left arm - Light - level 50 - B/Poi/FWR
• Urban scout left arm - Light - level 50 - Reg/S/WWR
• Urban scout left arm - Light - level 50 - Uny/Int/Sent
• Urban scout left arm - Light - level 50 - Uny/Int/Burn
• Urban scout left arm - Light - level 50 - V/AP/WWR
• Urban scout left leg - Light - level 50 - V/Int/Cav
• Urban scout left leg - Light - level 50 - V/Rad/Cav
• Urban scout left leg - Light - level 50 - AS/Poi/FWR
• Urban scout right arm - Light - level 50 - B/S/AWR
• Urban scout right arm - Light - level 50 - Z/S/WWR
• Urban scout right arm - Light - level 50 - OE/AP/RadRegen
• Urban scout right arm - Light - level 50 - OE/Poi/Cav
• Urban scout right arm - Light - level 50 - Uny/Env/WWR
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - AS/AP/Cav
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - OE/AP/15L
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - OE/Fire/WWR
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - V/AP/RadRegen
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - V/AP/15L
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - Reg/AP/JWR
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - W/Explo/DUR
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - V/Cryo/FWR
• Urban scout right leg - Light - level 50 - Uny/Int/15L

Wood armor

• Wood chest - Light - level 45 - Uny/End/Cav
• Wood left arm - Light - level 45 - AS/Explo/FWR
• Wood left arm - Light - level 45 - Uny/Env/Sent
• Wood left arm - Light - level 45 - Uny/P/WWR
• Wood left arm - Light - level 45 - Uny/Poi/WWR
• Wood left arm - Light - level 45 - V/S/Cav
• Wood left leg - Light - level 45 - OE/L/AWR
• Wood left leg - Light - level 45 - Uny/Int/50fFdr
• Wood left leg - Light - level 45 - W/Cryo/Sent
• Wood right arm - Light - level 45 - Uny/End/WWR
• Wood right arm - Light - level 45 - W/Explo/FWR
• Wood right leg - Light - level 45 - OE/A/FWR
• Wood right leg - Light - level 45 - Reg/AP/WWR
• Wood right leg - Light - level 45 - Uny/AP/JWR
• Wood right leg - Light - level 45 - V/Glut/WWR

Power armor

• T-60 set - Power armor - level 50 - OE/AP/WWR
• T-45 torso - Power armor - level 50 - OE/S/WWR

Hi Everyone! I posted this on Colognes but figured I’d share here, too.
I’ve always loved good smelling stuff and for the last 15 years I’ve usually had one bottle of cologne, and would replace once it’s out. Only in the last few months have I really delved into this world and began filling out a modest collection. I’m definitely not an expert (so take my reviews with a big grain of salt) but I love smelling and writing so here ya go. (Fucking wall of text incoming lmao, I didn’t realize how lengthy this got)
I just got back from a three-hour mall trip to try and get my nose on as many niche fragrances as my senses would tolerate. I had already done a good bit of research so I had some picked out to try and others already crossed-off. Im a 30M for reference.
I also had the goal in mind to find a contender for a fall/winter scent that exudes class, sophistication and decadence. For that, I’ve already tried a few that I really enjoy, and kind of used these as a springboard to continue exploring:
Xerjoff Alexandria II- This is what I envision royalty wearing. Lavender and rosewood mix soooo nice in the open, and dries into a lovey rose/vanilla/essence of oud. The oud is really toned down here for those that dislike it. It’s kind of hard to pick out. Nuclear performance.
Initio Oud for Greatness- Another good starter oud, you could say (this was my introduction to oud). It lasts forever and the dry down is seriously heavenly. The wet, soily oud is at the forefront for 2-4 hours, but I’m absolutely in love with what’s left when it disappears. Lavender, saffron, nutmeg and musk mixes into the best dryer-sheet-like scent I’ve come across (what it reminds ME of at least).
Perfums de Marly Haltane- Quite similar in the opening to Oud for Greatness. Haltane is darker, though, where I get more leathesmoke. I think the oud in this is more subdued, or at least less moist smelling. It blends well and lasts a good while.
Initio Atomic Rose- Holy shit. Apparently rose gets my motor GOING. I tried a lot of rose-centric fragrances today, but this probably still takes the cake for its balance and strength, in addition to the scent itself being just gorgeous.
So with those in mind I was off to Neiman Marcus. I sampled a large amount more than what I’ve written, but stuck to the ones that were memorable; good or bad.
Frederic Malle - Portrait of a Lady- My favorite of the Frederic Malle. Sensual rose/clove/currant at the front, but it is kind of hard to pick out specific notes on this one. After looking, I can get the cinnamon in the background of the dry down, it blends perfectly with the sandalwood, rose and benzoin after drying down. - Carnal Flower- Some similarity to POAL, lots of tuberose and jasmine, which I personally like. A bright yet sensual floral, and you get some coconut and melon there, too. I typically dislike coconut but this is blended masterfully. - Lipstick Rose- Yeah, that’s what it smells like. Try this if you’ve seen people describe scents as lipstick-y or violet taking on that accord. Not my cup of tea, also leans more feminine to my nose than the other two. - Musc Ravageur- I really wanted to like this one. And for a split second I did! A clove-y vanilla sasparilla is what I first got, and it unfortunately turned into barnyard urine. I immediately remembered seeing some reviews stating this, and I couldn’t get my nose to move past it. I can tell there’s good stuff there, but not for me.
Amouage - Reflection- The only one I’d tried before, and remains one of my favs. Rosemary and pink pepper greet you with a deep, fresh spice. The vetiver and patchouli sit nicely at the bottom, and the combination of white florals mixes wonderfully. Another scent I could imagine on royalty, and seems pretty versatile, too. You could wear this year-round without feeling out of place. Insane staying power. - Lyric- Probably my favorite, but I need to smell again on another day. Compared to the other Amouage, I had to continually stick my nose in the coffe beans to pick up the scent from the test strip. When I did get it, it was a lovely light, fresh scent. Quite a departure from the other Amouage I’ve tried, but great. No surprise, the list of notes are some of my favorites: lime, bergamot, rose, orange blossom, saffron, nutmeg, musk, pine, vanilla, incense, sandalwood. Seriously, love each and all those individually and they come together beautifully. - Interlude- Another good one. Dark, mysterious. Definitely get the oregano/peppepatchouli/incense bomb off the top. Leather lurking behind. I typically don’t gravitate toward the leathery scents but this one’s good. - Enclave- This pretty much seals the deal for me that on me, mint just ain’t it. I liked Sedley at first, but the mint somehow gets too cloying to my nose after too long. I can tell I would get the same from the peppermint in the opening of Enclave. I almost liked this one, too. If you can even tolerate peppermint, you’ll enjoy this one.
Mind Games - Blockade- Wowww. First sniff love, here. Explosion of citrus, juicy fruit-y sex. I usually find myself staying away from citrus-forward scents but this shit is next level. This will be a contender for my next upscale summer buy. - Double Attack- Another love at first sniff. It’s familiar, though. Chocolate/orange/cinnamon/vanilla. You’ll want to eat it right up. I already have this box checked in my collection, but may come back to it in the future. - Checkmate- Another lovely scent. Champagne, red currant, rose, magnolia, little patchouli. It all comes together really nicely, and it was difficult for me to pick out specific notes before looking. Not a love, but I was really impressed with the quality and scent profile of the Mind Games I tried.
Clive Christian - Town & Country- Wow. No seriously, like fucking wow. Smells like an Italian fruit cart strolling through an English manor’s sprawling garden road. I look at the notes and I don’t understand how you get this smell supposedly out of Clary Sage, Ambergris, and Sandalwood. Like, what? This is high quality shit. I get some pear or grapes there, too. Try this. - Crab Apple Blossom- Yum yum yum this is goooood. Smells like it sounds. Bergamot, apple blossom and rhubarb dance around playfully together. Can’t help but have a big stupid smile on your face when you smell this. The more it dried down, the more it might be my favorite over Town & Country. - Matsukita- Another great scent. In the same vein as the other two since they are part of the same “Crown Collection.” You get some smokiness, here. Bergamot with nutmeg and mate give depth and a little mystery. White florals, woody ambers and musk at the base. Just quality stuff here. All three of these in the Crown Collection were available in 10ml travel size gift pack for $300. Good idea to put on my wish list. That shit is kiiiinda expensive.
Xerjoff - Erba Pura- I did not expect to like this as much as I did! Favorite that I sampled. Perfect combination of citrus and fruitiness off the top, layered over a bed of sweet musk. Something here is very familiar to my nose but I couldn’t place it. This will be another top contender for a future upscale summer purchase. - Accento- Soothing scent. Fruity white floral (usually dumb reach for me), and the iris gives it some powder but not overpowering. Not as feminine-leaning as I would have expected. - Iommi- Delicious! Sweet smoky rum off the top, and it’s a little surprising how forward the patchouli and leather is in this. It’s bordering on being a little overpowering, but it tames a bit on the dry down. I’d need to see how this goes on my skin, for sure. - Torino 21- Another one that I liked way more than expected. I’m going back and seeing mint listed as a top note here…I didn’t get that! And thank God since mint usually is a non-starter. Kind of an aquatic green to my nose. Again, just a lovely scent. - Naxos- Yeah ok this is good shit. I was expecting a sweet bomb, but this is definitely more restrained than what a lot of reviewers will have you believe. I’m a sucker for lavender and bergamot. Throw in honey and jasmine atop a bed of tobacco, vanilla and tonka bean? Yes please. - Erba Gold- Pretty good. To my nose more feminine than Erba Pura, likely due to the extra fruits in the middle. That combination of citruses, pear and melon is reminiscent of particular ladies’ scents.
Louis Vuitton - L’Immensité- Ohhhh yeahh. Relaxation in a bottle. My favorite besides maybe Fleur du Desert. This, Imagination and Météore all kind of dance to the same song, so to speak. More than one of these would be redundant, in my opinion. The quality speaks through each of these fragrances, though- really nice stuff. - Imagination- The name fits, as a lot of the notes here are almost fleeting like a word on the tip of your tongue. It’s a great, calming scent but it didn’t blow me away. Like I said, L’Immensité was the best of these and I don’t see the need to diversify within this collection. - Météore- Compared to L’Immensité, there’s a little more sweetness here. This leans closer to a shower gel-like scent in my opinion. Still great. - Fleur du Désert- This one started out reallly good. Honey and cinnamon into rose and orange blossom is an intriguing, sensual combination. Unfortunately, smelling it on my arm after a couple hours, the jasmine and honey turn into something my mind recognizes as an old lady scent. The POAL on my hand, by comparison, keeps mixing with my skin in a great pheromonic way. - Ombre Nomad- Disappointed with this one. I’m realizing I don’t gravitate toward darker scents like heavy oud, leather, incense. I can tell it’s put together really well and uses quality materials, but this isn’t one that was made for me.
All in all, my main take-aways include: Xerjoff scents living up to the name. I was definitely impressed with their offerings, and would have expected it to lean closer to overrated. Same with Mind Games. Really enjoyed everything I sampled from them, even if it wasn’t my cup of tea, I was impressed with the quality. Also, I need to get back and sample the rest of the Clive Christian house. I was absolutely blown away with what I tried.
A little bonus: I tried TF Noir de Noir, Extreme Noir, and Cafe Rose. Extreme Noir is excellent. A regal mix of saffron, nutmeg and cardamom on top of rose and white florals. Ahhhh, again, similar to what I imagine a king or king to smell like.
Cafe Rose is probably the second best rose-centric scent to my nose besides Atomic Rose. I’ll need to put those side by side.
Anyway, feel free to ask away if you’d like. I was bored and inspired so killed some time writing this out :)

I am looking to reskin my Leica M2 with a brown leather skin. My ideal would be Aki Asahi’s Genuine Leather Camel skin, but I can’t select it in checkout and he is not responding to my email.
The other I’ve seen is from Arte Di Mano, but it’s over 150 dollars for the skin. I want to check my other options first.
Do any of you have suggestions?