What if you cut an op in half

Things Cut in Half

2013.07.09 23:05 smartypantsgc9 Things Cut in Half

For your cut in half needs.

2011.03.12 09:48 MachinePorn: I think my driveshaft just got torqued.

High quality images of machines and machinery.

2010.01.30 19:13 Splatterh0use r/HλLFLIFE

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2024.05.15 05:30 delibirdguy Top 500 Songs Ever (Subjective)

Over the course of the past few months I have been working on compiling a list of my 500 favorite songs. It was sort of challenge that I gave myself and I'm super pumped with how it turned out. There were a few rules (only 5 songs per artist being the big rule, among a few others), and here's the list I came up with. Thought it was fun, so wanted to share here and see if it might spark any discussion about song placement, lack of songs/artists, or see if anyone had any similar lists. All thoughts are welcome! (and if you don't care to comb through all 500 songs for your favorite song or artist I'm more than happy to help you track 'em down)

Trash Panda - Aging out of the 20th Century
Djo - Roddy
The Beatles - Don't Let Me Down
Snail Mail - Heat Wave
Phoebe Bridgers - Savior Complex
Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK
The Shins - The Fear
Talking Heads - This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)
The Cranberries - Linger
Post Animal - Ralphie
Hop Along - Not Abel
The Beach Boys - Heroes And Villains
Electric Light Orchestra - Livin' Thing
The Monkees - As We Go Along
Blondie - Heart Of Glass
The Strokes - Oblivius
Chet Baker - It's Always You
The Beatles - Rain
Electric Light Orchestra - Telephone Line
Husbands - Must Be a Cop
Faces - Ooh La La
The Flaming Lips - Do You Realize??
Frank Ocean - Nights
Harry James - It's Been a Long, Long Time
The Turtles - Happy Together
Etta James - At Last
The Zombies - The Way I Feel Inside
The Beatles - Here, There And Everywhere
The Beach Boys - God Only Knows
Kanye West - Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1
Briston Maroney - Sinkin'
John Lennon - Oh My Love
Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass - Ladyfingers
Squirrel Flower - Headlights
The Backseat Lovers - Maple Syrup
The B-52's - Rock Lobster
George Harrison - All Things Must Pass
Snail Mail - Ben Franklin
Laura Elliott - Grass Stains
Djo - Chateau (Feel Alright)
Tame Impala - Eventually
The Backseat Lovers - Snowbank Blues
Claude Debussy - Clair de Lune
The Weeknd - Save Your Tears
Talking Heads - Thank You for Sending Me an Angel
The Zombies - Time of the Season
The War On Drugs - Nothing to Find
Queen - Brighton Rock
The Dream Academy - Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
The B-52's - Strobe Light
The Cranberries - Dreams
Fugees - Killing Me Softly With His Song
Molchat Doma - Тоска
Tyler, The Creator - ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
The Mamas & The Papas - Dream A Little Dream Of Me
The Chords - Sh-Boom
The Beatles - The Abbey Road Medley
The Ronettes - Be My Baby
The Who - Baba O'Riley
Dr. Dog - Where'd All the Time Go?
M83 - My Tears Are Becoming A Sea
Billie Eilish - everything i wanted
Outkast - Hey Ya!
Nat King Cole - Orange Colored Sky
The Notorious B.I.G. - Hypnotize
Four Tops - Reach Out I'll Be There
Foreign Air - Shut Up and Show Me
Leonard Cohen - So Long, Marianne
dodie - If I'm Being Honest
Briston Maroney - June
Post Malone - Sunflower
John Lennon - Isolation
Buddy Holly & The Crickets - Not Fade Away
Phoebe Bridgers - I Know The End
Kanye West - All Falls Down
Alvvays - Adult Diversion
John Lennon - Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)
Clairo - Amoeba
The Beach Boys - I Know There's An Answer
Paul McCartney - Let Me Roll It
Frank Ocean - Ivy
Radiohead - Motion Picture Soundtrack
Djo - Mutual Future (Repeat)
Phoebe Bridgers - Scott Street
Childish Gambino - Me and Your Mama
Pink Floyd - Astronomy Domine
The Pied Pipers - Dream
The Beach Boys - All I Wanna Do
Djo - Change
Второй этаж поражает - Крайности
Little Richard - Lucille
King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Shanghai
Chet Baker - Deep In A Dream
The Beatles - It's All Too Much
Post Animal - Dirtpicker
The B-52's - Love Shack
EDEN - foreve/over
Kanye West - Ultralight Beam
The Zombies - Going Out Of My Head
Talking Heads - Found a Job
Snail Mail - Pristine
Tom Tom Club - Genius of Love
Tears For Fears - Everybody Wants To Rule The World
WILLIS - I Think I Like When It Rains
Chet Baker - But Not For Me
Naked Eyes - Always Something There to Remind Me
Tyler, The Creator - GONE, GONE / THANK YOU
Djo - Half Life
Trash Panda - Check Please
Briston Maroney - Deep Sea Diver
Beach Fossils - This Year
Momma - Medicine
Hop Along - Prior Things
Talking Heads - Road to Nowhere
Electric Light Orchestra - Turn to Stone
Briston Maroney - It's Not My Fault
Tyler, The Creator - NEW MAGIC WAND
Snail Mail - Headlock
Phil Collins - Take Me Home
Gotye - Somebody That I Used To Know
The Beach Boys - Do It Again
Tame Impala - Breathe Deeper
Ella Fitzgerald - Misty
Phoebe Bridgers - Waiting Room
Kanye West - Runaway
Daft Punk - Get Lucky (feat. Pharrell Williams and Nile Rodgers)
Dire Straits - Money for Nothing
Kendrick Lamar - Alright
Black Country, New Road - Concorde
George Harrison - If Not for You
Harry Styles - Cherry
Ms. Lauryn Hill - Doo Wop (That Thing)
Paul McCartney - Junk
Wings - Maybe I'm Amazed [Live]
Talking Heads - Houses in Motion
Del Water Gap - Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat
Pixies - Where Is My Mind?
Queen - Seven Seas Of Rhye
Paul McCartney - Jet
Sufjan Stevens - Death with Dignity
A Flock Of Seagulls - I Ran (So Far Away)
Tame Impala - Let It Happen
Led Zeppelin - Whole Lotta Love
Clairo - Management
Tommy James & The Shondells - I Think We're Alone Now
Fergie - Clumsy
Childish Gambino - This Is America
Prefab Sprout - The King of Rock 'N' Roll
Joy Again - Looking Out for You
Beach House - Space Song
John Lennon - Mind Games
The Weeknd - Gasoline
Weezer - Buddy Holly
Phoebe Bridgers - Sidelines
Tame Impala - New Person, Same Old Mistakes
Lana Del Rey - A&W
The Dillards - I've Just Seen a Face
The Doors - Break on Through (To the Other Side)
Julie London - I'm Glad There Is You
2Pac - California Love
Dean Martin - Everybody Loves Somebody
Snail Mail - Anytime
The Strokes - The Adults Are Talking
Jordana, TV Girl - Better in the Dark
Juice WRLD - Hide (feat. Seezyn)
The Wild Reeds - Get Better
Finom - Mine
Hop Along - One That Suits Me
The Killers - Mr. Brightside
Michael Cera - Clay Pigeons
Clairo - Bags
Prince - Let's Go Crazy
The Zombies - She's Not There
Blackstreet - No Diggity
Frank Sinatra - I've Got You Under My Skin
John Denver - Take Me Home, Country Roads
Harry James - I'm Beginning to See The Light
The Clash - London Calling
Charles Bradley - Changes
Buddy Holly - (Ummmm, Oh Yeah) Dearest
Eagles - Seven Bridges Road [Live]
Moxie - Honey
Faces - Stay with Me
Post Animal - How Do You Feel
New Order - Age of Consent
Natalie Imbruglia - Torn
Lana Del Rey - Doin' Time
Twin Peaks - Blue Coupe
Kanye West - Gold Digger
Fruit Bats - The Bottom of It
Frank Sinatra - Somethin' Stupid
Lorde - Perfect Places
Martha Tilton - Exactly Like You
King Crimson - 21st Century Schizoid Man
Glen Campbell - Southern Nights
Claire Rosinkranz - Frankenstein
Guillemots - Made-Up Lovesong #43
Fleetwood Mac - Say You Love Me
Frankie Valli - Can't Take My Eyes off You
The Crickets - Don't Ever Change
Paul Anka - Put Your Head On My Shoulder
George Harrison - Isn't It a Pity
Trash Panda - Off
Super Besse - Holod
Beyoncé - Hold Up
Charlie Burg - I Don't Wanna Be Okay Without You
Eagles - Peaceful Easy Feeling
Ella Fitzgerald - It's A Lovely Day Today
PERMSKY KRAY - Дорогой Человек
The Little Dippers - Forever
The B-52's - There's a Moon in the Sky (Called the Moon)
Patti Page - Old Cape Cod
Daft Punk - Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger
The Soggy Bottom Boys - I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow
Trash Panda - Things Will Never Change
Hop Along - Well-dressed
Sixpence None The Richer - Kiss Me
TV Girl - Daughter of a Cop
LAUNDRY DAY - Jane
Tyler, The Creator - EARFQUAKE
Sigue Sigue Sputnik - Love Missile F1-11
Joji - Gimme Love
The Backseat Lovers - Pool House
The Weeknd - Take My Breath
Mild High Club - Homage
Doc Watson - Am I Born to Die?
Daniel Caesar - Streetcar
The Kinks - Sunny Afternoon
John Lennon - #9 Dream
Tame Impala - Elephant
Chuck Berry - You Never Can Tell
Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
KIDS SEE GHOSTS - 4th Dimension
Soft Cell - Tainted Love
The B-52's - Song for a Future Generation
Gnarls Barkley - Crazy
Lana Del Rey - Blue Jeans
Billie Eilish - Halley's Comet
Glenn Miller - In the Mood
Kid Bloom - Control
The Cinematic Orchestra - To Build A Home
Marvin Gaye - I Heard It Through The Grapevine
Brenda Lee - If You Love Me (Really Love Me)
TV Girl - Lovers Rock
Art Lown - Knew You Well
Dean Martin - Ain't That A Kick In The Head
Miniature Tigers - Like or Like Like
Electric Light Orchestra - Sweet Talkin' Woman
The Hunts - Ages
The Cars - Good Times Roll
Bill Withers - Lovely Day
Drake - God's Plan
Kansas - Point of Know Return
The Neighbourhood - Stargazing
The Clash - Rock the Casbah
Hop Along - What the Writer Meant
Briston Maroney - Under My Skin
Jack Stauber - Buttercup
King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Ya Love
Ginger Root - Loretta
Thompson Twins - Hold Me Now
Frank Ocean - Pyramids
Kate Bush - Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)
Destroy Boys - I Threw Glass at My Friend's Eyes and Now I'm on Probation
Mild High Club - Dionysian State
Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out
Kevin Abstract - Empty
The Frights - Crust Bucket
Stealers Wheel - Stuck In The Middle With You
The Shins - Fighting in a Sack
fun. - We Are Young (feat. Janelle Monáe)
Lil Uzi Vert - Money Longer
Miniature Tigers - Cannibal Queen
The Doors - Touch Me
Jean Dawson - Clear Bones
King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Catching Smoke
Molchat Doma - Люди Надоели
The Go-Go's - Our Lips Are Sealed
Billie Eilish - ocean eyes
BOYO - Crown
The 1975 - Somebody Else
Husbands - She's a Betty
Syd Barrett - If It's In You
Trash Panda - Atlanta Girls
Frank Ocean - Godspeed
Alice Phoebe Lou - Glow
Childish Gambino - Redbone
New Order - Blue Monday
Post Animal - Schedule
Harry Styles - Fine Line
Harry James - I'll Get By (As Long As I Have You)
Depeche Mode - Never Let Me Down Again
Chet Baker - I Fall In Love Too Easily
The Cranberries - Put Me Down
John Mayer - Edge of Desire
George Harrison - All Those Years Ago
Electric Light Orchestra - The Diary of Horace Wimp
Alex Clare - Too Close
Eric B. & Rakim - Know The Ledge
Peter Frampton - Show Me The Way [Live]
Simon & Garfunkel - Mrs. Robinson
Black Eyes - Deformative
The Righteous Brothers - Unchained Melody
Bonny Light Horseman - Deep In Love
The Walker Brothers - The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore
Cage The Elephant - Cigarette Daydreams
Hot Flash Heat Wave - Raindrop
Clairo - Sofia
Kendrick Lamar - PRIDE.
Camille Saint-Saëns - The Swan
Weezer - Say It Ain't So
C418 - Sweden
Lana Del Rey - Let The Light In (feat. Father John Misty)
The Postal Service - Such Great Heights
Pickin' On Series - Those to Come
Lana Del Rey - Grandfather please stand on the shoulders of my father while he's deep-sea fishing (feat. RIOPY)
John Mayer - Moving On and Getting Over
Field Medic - POWERFUL LOVE
Cage The Elephant - Flow
Joji - Run
The Who - Won't Get Fooled Again
Boston - Peace of Mind
Ben E. King - This Magic Moment
David Bowie - Starman
Beastie Boys - Sabotage
Harry Belafonte - Banana Boat (Day-O)
Gene Krupa & His Orchestra - Rhumboogie
The Cardigans - Lovefool
The Kinks - You Really Got Me
The Zombies - She's Coming Home
Michael Jackson - Thriller
Moxie - Blue Skies
The Mamas & The Papas - Straight Shooter
Peter, Paul and Mary - Don't Think Twice, It's All Right
Green Day - Brain Stew
Dua Lipa - Levitating (feat. DaBaby)
The Police - Roxanne
Britney Spears - Toxic
Tears For Fears - Head Over Heels
Rex Orange County - Pluto Projector
The Strokes - Call It Fate, Call It Karma
Portugal. The Man - Feel It Still
The Black Crowes - Twice As Hard
Ted Nugent - Stranglehold
fun. - Some Nights
Wings - Silly Love Songs
Paramore - Still into You
Peter Frampton - Baby, I Love Your Way [Live]
The Monkees - Last Train to Clarksville
Royel Otis - Oysters In My Pocket
The Backseat Lovers - Growing/Dying
Nelly Furtado - Say It Right
Post Animal - Goggles
Erik Satie - Gymnopédie No. 1
Childish Gambino - IV. Sweatpants
Steely Dan - Dirty Work
ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me
Still Woozy - Goodie Bag
Arlo Parks - Black Dog
Goth Babe - Weekend Friend
George & the Handsomes - Sleepy Beats
boygenius - 20
The Mills Brothers - You Always Hurt The One You Love
Travis Scott - SICKO MODE
Pinegrove - Need 2
The Backseat Lovers - Sinking Ship
Franz Schubert - Ave Maria
Zac Brown Band - Knee Deep (feat. Jimmy Buffett)
Justin Timberlake - Mirrors
Simon & Garfunkel - Cecilia
The Cranberries - Zombie
Daniel Caesar - Japanese Denim
Billie Holiday - Easy Living
ISLAND - By Your Side
Phil Collins - Tomorrow Never Knows
Bob Dylan - The Times They Are A-Changin'
The Four Freshmen - Day By Day
Fleetwood Mac - The Chain
Billy Joel - Big Shot
Billie Eilish - Happier Than Ever
Yot Club - down bad
Rihanna - Stay
Fleetwood Mac - Landslide
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake, Op. 20, Act 2: No. 10, Scene. Moderato
The White Stripes - Fell In Love With a Girl
Alvvays - Easy On Your Own?
Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit - If We Were Vampires
Blackway - What's Up Danger (with Black Caviar)
Albert Hammond - It Never Rains in Southern California
Matt Maltese - Jupiter
John Denver - Mother Nature's Son
Childish Gambino - Sober
Claire Rosinkranz - Pools and Palm Trees
The Cars - Just What I Needed
The Doors - Light My Fire
Blondie - Tomorrow Never Knows
King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Hell's Itch
The Japanese House - Saw You In A Dream
Franz Schubert - String Quartet No. 13 in A Minor, Op. 29 No. 1, D. 804
The Drifters - White Christmas
The 1975 - Robbers
George Harrison - Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea
The Frights - Tongues
Paramore - Ain't It Fun
Billy Joel - Pressure
Frank Sinatra - My Way
Art Lown - Going Back to Carolina
Bruno Mars - Just the Way You Are
Under The Rug - Lonesome & Mad
The Mamas & The Papas - Dedicated To The One I Love
Foster The People - Sit Next to Me
Weezer - Undone - The Sweater Song
Michael Jackson - Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'
Tia Blake - Plastic Jesus
Los Bravos - Bring a Little Lovin'
Lady Gaga - Bad Romance
Minnie Riperton - Les Fleurs
Billy Idol - Dancing with Myself
Cody Fry - I Hear a Symphony
Gringo Sapiens - Driver's Licence
Vacations - Relax
Glitter Party - time waits
Steve Lacy - Bad Habit
The Crystals - Then He Kissed Me
The Pied Pipers - Mairzy Doats
Mitski - Bug Like an Angel
James Ray - I've Got My Mind Set On You
Clairo - Bubble Gum
Masayoshi Takanaka - SEXY DANCE
Nat King Cole - (I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons
Sleigh Bells - Crown On the Ground
Olivia Rodrigo - favorite crime
No Doubt - Just A Girl
Foreigner - Long, Long Way from Home
Heart - Crazy On You
The Hunts - Darlin'
David Bowie - Heroes
Alice Phoebe Lou - Hammer
Thee Oh Sees - Toe Cutter - Thumb Buster
Roar - I Can't Handle Change
TV Girl - Birds Dont Sing
Laufey - From The Start
Chas McDevitt Skiffle Group - Freight Train (feat. Nancy Whiskey)
Metro Boomin - Am I Dreaming
Liana Flores - rises the moon
POP ETC - Speak Up
Jean Knight - Mr. Big Stuff
The Platters - Twilight Time
Derek & The Dominos - Layla
King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Homeless Man in Adidas
Charlie Burg - Lovesong (The Way)
Hot Flash Heat Wave - Gutter Girl
ABBA - Fernando
Mitski - My Love Mine All Mine
Savannah Conley - More Than Fine
Young the Giant - Mind Over Matter
Future Crib - Yer Movin'
Bob Dylan - Like a Rolling Stone
benches - Violent
Musical Youth - Pass The Dutchie
Olivia Rodrigo - vampire
Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone - City Of Stars
Maya Hawke - Thérèse
Current Joys - A Different Age
Wayne Newton - Danke Schoen
La Roux - Bulletproof
Jason Segel, Walter - Man Or Muppet
U2 - I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
The Raconteurs - Steady, As She Goes
The Ink Spots - Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall
Ace of Base - The Sign
Vulfpeck - 1612
Nordista Freeze - Hey GiGi
The Chainsmokers - New York City
Suki Waterhouse - Johanna
Pete Rodriguez - I Like It Like That
Calvin Harris - Summer
The Rare Occasions - Notion
a-ha - Take on Me
Rush - Working Man
Traffic - Dear Mr. Fantasy
Starbuck - Moonlight Feels Right
Van Halen - Drop Dead Legs
The Troggs - Wild Thing
Led Zeppelin - Good Times Bad Times
The Byrds - Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is a Season)
Cream - Sunshine Of Your Love
Justin Timberlake - SexyBack (feat. Timbaland)
David Bowie - Suffragette City
Ludwig van Beethoven - Sonata No. 14 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 27, No. 2 "Moonlight"
Avicii - Wake Me Up
The Who - La-La-La-Lies
The Spinners - The Rubberband Man
MGMT - Time to Pretend
Hootie & The Blowfish - Only Wanna Be With You
Sheck Wes - Mo Bamba
Claire Rosinkranz - 123
Ringo Starr - Photograph
The Proclaimers - I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)
Duran Duran - Rio

submitted by delibirdguy to Music [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 05:29 theladymcgyver Is my bf an infamous criminal?!?

So the weirdest thing happened yesterday. It's most likely something totally explainable, and no big deal, but it's really bothering me because I'm not able to find a way to explain it myself. And I have been Digging! For a awhile with no luck. I was hoping someone with law enforcement experience could fill in the blanks for me.

 My boyfriend and I were in a small town about a half hour from where we live. He was driving even though his licence is invalid at the moment because I had a migraine. We went through an intersection, and for whatever reason my tailpipe randomly emits a huge cloud of thick white exhaust, just one big poof that's it. Apparently there was a cop behind the car behind us, because he followed us about a mile to our work where we were picking up supplies. He never turned on the emergency lights, he just pulled in behind us, and in a very friendly manner asked us/informed us about the smoke. We thanked him, he got in the squad and left. Like 5 minutes later, we were loading up and he comes pulling back in, approaches my boyfriend, and states correctly "Mr. So and so, you don't have a licence" and then asks us about 300 questions no joke about just everything. During this he mentions my name, but no one gave it to him. Although incorrectly as he had my married name and I went back to my maiden a few years back. After this, surprisingly, he gives us a knuckle bump and cut us free no ticket. (Thank you!!!!!)

Anyway, how the sam heck, did he know our names like that ... When my vehicle is in my mother's name. He never asked us for ID. I can assume he ran the plates, got my mom's name, but how would her driving record link me let alone the guy i date? We have different addresses, different last names...
I looked up his criminal history there wasn't anything big or bad or anything I wasn't aware of. So it's not really that I'm paranoid he's potentially that recognizable to law enforcement.... He's not that good of an actor. I'm more so just like.... How was he able to figure out who we were like that so quickly following....some kind of paper trail that is really obscure or something idk?
He and I did get pulled over and our names ran at the same time a few years back but it was involving a different matter not involving driving & they ended up letting us go. So maybe we are listed in their records as associates??? Maybe? Still unconnected to my mom in every way tho that I can think of.
I know it wasn't someone at the store we were at, the owner wasnt really aware what was going on at the time. They wanted to call and raise heck with them for harassing us and I was like no no. He was just doing his job. Maybe a little too good but hey that's whatever. A matter of perspective. He let us go and even better was respectful and reasonable. Can't ask for more than that but especially when technically the legalities have you breaking someone's statute.
His demeanor didn't change from friendly curious at all from the first encounter to the second except maybe just going from informative to more inquisitional.
Anyone have any ideas? What else could he have been accessing? You don't think he would have gone off and started Facebook "stalking" do you? If so then he would have had my maiden name not my married name. My page doesn't list him as in a relationship or anything cheesy like that.
TL:DR got stopped by a psychic officer maybe? Magically knew who we were somehow.

submitted by theladymcgyver to RBI [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 05:20 kayenano The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer: Chapter 239

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 239: Standing Start
A wine bottle rolled against the side of my boot.
Amidst a gallery of stunned faces and open mouths, it was easily the second most lively thing here.
The first was a clockwork doll clutching at her stomach in pain.
“Ahahahha~ ahahaha~ ahah … uck … ack … ughh … ahahaha~”
I pursed my lips.
Still, I said nothing.
For one thing, this was precisely what happened when one ate the mouldy cinnamon rolls combined with any grass growing by the side of the road. If Apple refused to eat something, then so should she.
But for another–
“What … What is this … ?”
It was because the first response was reserved for the baroness.
Her words came out in a quivering tone, matching the disbelief upon her face.
Frankly, she had to do better than that.
Only the wine from the bottle I nudged away dribbled into the soil. And also the line of drool from a comatose farmer. But I didn’t want to think about that.
Still, it was an excellent benchmark. Until her tears could properly overpower the sour aroma from the Château de Riaré Hensoise, I would deem her bawling to be incomplete.
She had a long way to go.
“How … How are you still …” she began, slowly rising from her seat. “This … This is impossible–”
I offered a tidy smile alongside a flick of my hair, relishing in the moonlight adorning my figure.
“I agree. It shouldn’t be possible. But I assure you, my skin is 100% natural.”
“E-Excuse me … ?”
“No magical enchantments. No unicorn elixirs. No witchly glamors. Just a healthy sleep schedule of however many hours I desire and a diet of fresh strawberry shortcakes.”
The baroness mouthed silently at my secrets being revealed.
A strange way of offering her gratitude. Other princesses hounded my door for this knowledge. Given her pale, blotchy skin and lips as dry as a pond in a desert, she should be pleading for more.
Instead, she pointed at the fallen drunk beside us.
“This … This shouldn’t be possible … no, wait … the clockwork doll … did she–”
She suddenly snapped towards Coppelia, her eyes widening.
“Uuh … ahaha … ugh, it hurts ... ahaha … it hurts so much … ahaha … my tummy … aha … oh no … I’m … I’m seeing daisies … aha … I … ugh … I think I need help …”
Coppelia hugged her stomach, writhing like a freshly hatched caterpillar. Her eyes darkened as hiccups of laughter assailed her defeated form.
The baroness pursed her lips.
Then, she turned to Renise instead.
“Did you–”
“A-Amazing! … I … I have no idea what you did … but it wasn’t just wonderful … it was beautiful! The colours! The warmth! It was like a rainbow come to life!”
With a smile worthy of any attendant, the maid brought her hands together in polite applause. Naturally, to be praised for my brushwork was nothing new to me. Nor was the sight of stars shining in her eyes with greater brightness than any in the night sky.
Why, that even came whenever I left my bedroom.
“You … how did … how did you defeat him … ?”
The strands of the baroness’s golden hair began to frizzle as she turned towards me. All I saw were her tonsils. Bright red and healthy. She should be pleased.
“This was … this was no common man … do you know who he is … ?”
Without offering a chance to ignore her, she stamped a foot, pointing at the fallen drunk with maddened jabs. The man offered no defence, now as spent and drained as the bottle beside him.
I raised a brow.
“Indeed, I do. He’s a farmer who made poor life choices. And between leaving his farm and offering his pitchfork to an overly ambitious baroness, the greater was you. My congratulations on being the superior mistake. I acknowledge your triumph.”
Bwam.
The baroness promptly slapped her palms down on the table.
“This man … is Willem of Hagel,” she said, her teeth gritted together. “A man desperate and cursed.”
“Yes, well, to be a peasant is a dire thing. But it could be worse. At least he isn’t nobility.”
A mouth further widened before me.
Indeed, this was a terrible time to realise her affliction. But I was no famed angel of healing for nothing. There was a cure for ambition. And it involved copious amounts of tears.
I was still waiting.
“There is no world in which you should have been able to defeat him … not if half the tales about him prove true … he is a famed opponent … all the while you are … you are …”
Suddenly, her eyes left my face for the very first time.
No longer feeling that my cheeks were in danger of being poked, she swept her eyes upon my person, as though hoping to find some blemish to signify I was as false as a field of corn.
She stopped at the sword by my side.
And also–
“A copper ring,” she said softly.
Suddenly, my 29th house of cards I was subtly constructing collapsed.
… T-The ring!
The blot on my finger! The insidious badge of shame! The symbol of the Adventurer’s Guild!
Why, I’d taken it for granted that my masterful disguise was impervious! But this was no ordinary noblewoman I was seated across!
This … This was one I’d previously sat across before!
I’d made a terrible mistake!
I was mesmerising! A beautiful princess as charming as I was modest!
There was utterly no scenario in which I’d be forgotten!
I … I should have removed the copper ring!
“O-Oho … ohoho … w-what copper ring?” I said, my hands vanishing below the table at a speed con artists could only nod at. “Ah, do you refer to the ruby inlaid ring I often carry on my hand? The one which changes colour depending on the longitude and latitude? In that case, you may very well have briefly spied something which resembled a copper hue. But it is in fact a thing of unparalleled beauty and craftsmanship. Not a disgraceful copper ring.”
The baroness slowly looked up at me, her eyes blinking.
“No. I wasn’t mistaken. I … I recognise that ring. It is a copper ring, the same size and shape as those worn by … adventurers.”
My mouth widened in horror.
At once, I immediately sought a plant pot or a heavy book. Something to immediately erase the past few seconds of her memory.
Why … if she knew my secret, then the shame would haunt me all the way until I’d found something weighing at least equivalent to a standard hardback!
“I see,” she mumbled, as much to herself as me. “I understand now …”
The baroness removed her palms from the table.
She stood up straight, a hard expression upon her face. One which calculated with each passing moment the optimal way to exploit this devastating information.
Then, she took in a deep breath–just as I began assembling the playing cards into a thick pile.
“… it must be a legendary artifact.”
As I began eyeing her temple … I blinked in non-understanding.
“Excuse me?”
She nodded, her frown harsh enough to permanently crease her skin.
“To wear such a plain, ugly and shameful ring … one which utterly demeans your history, your worth and your pride, destroying any semblance of dignity you possess–”
My hand went to my stomach, struck by as much pain as Coppelia had experienced in a single moment.
“–indeed, to wear a ring so easily mistaken as one belonging to adventurers, the vermin of the world … it must be a truly terrifying artifact.”
I blinked.
And then–
“Ohhho … ohoohho! You … You see the truth of it!”
The baroness squeezed her fists by her side.
“I knew it.”
I nodded, my bangs bouncing against my forehead.
“I-Indeed … ! This ring I carry on me … it is a masterful item of supreme quality, passed down along generations of my family! Why, its appearance matching those of rings worn by adventurers is no coincidence! Theirs are based on this very design! Although they have since tarnished it, it was forged back in the first days of the kingdom when copper was greater than gold! Poured within it is knowledge now lost to time! A power beyond compare, called upon from the depths of the Royal Vault!”
The baroness sucked in a hateful breath.
“Then that explains it,” she said with bitterness ringing throughout her voice. “You were able to defeat such a powerful adversary through the use of your family’s ancient heirlooms.”
“Indeed, this powerful ring with a rare ability I cannot disclose defeated a terrifying farmer! Therefore, there’s no need for you to relay any suggestion that I’m anything but a princess, as far removed from the Adventurer’s Guild as hygiene is to their members!”
The baroness gave no response.
A respite which lasted far too short.
“... I see, then it means the plan continues. Different, yes. But I’ll not be deterred.”
She smiled, the familiar sight of aristocratic opportunism mixed with an utter denial of facts shining within her grey eyes.
I could only react with horror.
“Plan?” I replied, convinced she was well and truly several sandwiches short of a picnic. “Do you mean the plan currently lying in a fallen heap beside us? Did you not just say I defeated your farmer? Your only plan now is to decide which part of the ground you wish to offer your forehead to.”
The baroness shook her head with renewed confidence.
“I think not. To defeat Willem of Hagel, you must have expended every effort you had available. Not a crumb of power could be spared, for to underestimate him would have resulted in your certain loss. Meaning …”
Without hesitation, she gave a multipurpose wave of her hand.
“... You’ve nothing left but a sword you cannot wield, and two retainers against all of mine. One of whom is incapacitated. The other a maid.”
She continued to keep her hand raised. Her simple call to arms.
It took several moments before she cared to even look around her.
A sad thing.
If she had, she would have realised the curiosity of her hoodlums was less than their prudence.
She would have noticed the eyes without loyalty, seeing only the fallen figure of a drunk they’d been led to believe was more than a farmer now watering the ground with his drool.
And she would have noticed the state of her dress, as dishevelled as her ambitions as those she relied upon slinked away in search of newer gutters to inhabit, following instincts she could learn as the last of their feet shuffled into the darkness.
The baroness paled.
It was far too early for that. She had no idea Apple was currently resting in her tavern, and wouldn’t be helping her haul all of the goods which needed delivering to a place less damp than here.
But I could sooth her forthcoming backache with a smile, at least for the assistance already provided.
“You have my gratitude,” I said, brushing a speck of … countryside from my lap. “For so long as the nobility continues to concoct slapdash schemes with no hope of success, the kingdom can continue to assign blame on you when all else goes wrong. When the mobs come calling and heads start rolling, it ensures a steady queue of necks can be offered before ours are reached. That is why the nobility continues to exist, you see, despite the ceaseless treason. So allow me to offer a word of advice when next you wish to survive in a position of responsibility. When fleeing, the best defence isn’t to run faster–it’s to trip the person beside you. And this means better hiring practices.”
I glanced pointedly around me.
All this empty space and not even a single eyepatched second-in-command to use as a distraction? An amateur mistake. One the baroness now realised as her mouth opened wordlessly, the realisation of her solitude only now dawning upon her.
Yet all it invited was a newly wrought defiance.
“I do not mean to flee,” she said, her fists tightly clenched. “I am Arisa Sandholt. And even should I be captured here, you would not be afforded a night’s rest. I am not alone. Whether tonight or tomorrow, this kingdom will fall. I am not alone in planning its demise.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, please. Planning my kingdom’s demise is what everyone does.”
“What?”
“If it’s not being actively planned, it’s because someone’s in the middle of planning how to formulate a plan. And then once they’ve finished planning, they wonder why their plan didn’t work as planned. This is not a cause for concern. It’s a sign the world is still spinning the correct direction.”
The baroness feigned a dignified silence.
It was far too late, of course. By default, nobility had no dignity.
Still, I accepted the effort, and filled the silence with a tidy clap of my hands.
“Now, since you’ve no intention of fleeing, you can be useful instead. I’ll require a full inventory of your stock. I intend to requisition every single item you have in your possession. Every grain. Every crown. And every odd piece of tableware, carpet, candleholder and painting you might have.”
I pointed at the barn. A tragic thing to requisition. But if I was fortunate, it’d grow lacquered tiles and bay windows in the short steps between here and there.
Suddenly, the baroness’s eyes widened. The needless defiance dropped alarmingly from her face.
“Wait … what do you mean by that?”
I paused for a moment, puzzled by her reaction.
This was hardly the complicated part.
“I mean exactly what I mean. This should come as no surprise. I will be emptying every corner of the property you’ve misappropriated, including whatever manner of tunnels you’ve carved for your use. Rest assured, I’ll be employing the talents of my retainers extensively. With or without your cooperation, every single inch of your abode will be inspected by myself for the Royal Treasury’s benefit.”
She blinked between Renise and Coppelia. Although one was dressed as a maid and the other now appeared to be napping on the ground, their skills when it came to matters of unearthing valuables in my kingdom’s underbelly was not one I doubted.
Nor, from the way the baroness gulped, did she.
“I can do it,” she said suddenly.
I looked at her in confusion, uncertain what ploy this was.
“... Excuse me? Do what?”
“The items of value. I can bring them out. There’s no need to personally see to such a thing yourself.”
“While I’m in full agreement, I can hardly trust your reliability in this manner. And besides, I’ll hardly be playing the mule. I shall be supervising while closely assessing every item.”
Once more, the tonsils came out.
An appalling disregard of decorum. There was only one time that nobility was permitted to look so horrified in my presence. And that’s if they were copying my own after I discovered a list of marriage suitors posing as a napkin beneath the dessert spoon again.
“E-Even so … as the one who wronged you, I insist on not troubling a princess any further. If you give me a few moments, I can acquire the most important valuables for you in a fraction of the time you’d spend on finding them.”
“A few moments to hide them, you mean. No, I’m afraid that anything you wish to stuff beneath a floorboard will need to be appropriately examined first.”
I leaned away in mild alarm as a bead of sweat ran down the baroness’s face.
A moment later–
She finally did what only someone in her position could.
Adhering to the instincts of all nobility, she swept up her dress and suddenly dashed away.
Except it wasn’t towards the dark forest, to be lost amidst the shadows and the jaws of whatever awaited her there. It was back towards the barn.
I watched as she stumbled several times before even reaching the steps.
“... A desperate sight, no?” I said, with a sad shake of my head. “To throw away all semblance of the image she’d hoped to craft. Now she flees like a frightened towngirl. She should know that escape is now impossible.”
Beside me, Renise let out a hum.
Far from chasing after the baroness, she collected the pack of cards I’d assembled for memory wiping purposes. She began to build a house of cards.
I looked at her in puzzlement. She gave a strangely pained smile in reply.
“I believe we can offer her a few moments.”
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2024.05.15 05:19 Blitzed_Artist Am I a horrible daughter?

I’m so confused, I don’t know who my mom is. My dad is horrible, he is very verbally abusive and physically abusive. He abused my mom more than you can even imagine. She also had horribly abusive parents. I think that’s why I always explain away her behavior. I feel like I’m stuck in a cycle of my dad abusing her, her getting upset at me, her crying saying she’s sorry, me trying to comfort her, her insisting she’s bad and saying me and my sister should never forgive her, me comforting her and then it starts up again. I’m 16 with learning disabilities because I wasn’t helped educationally so I can’t distance myself and I feel like I’m addicted to the good parts and cut down by the bad. I feel like it’s normal to have bad moments but this happens every month or so. My mom has said I push my dad’s bad behavior on her, which I’m worried I’m doing. My dad forced me to grow up emotionally and I’ve feel like I have, so I don’t know if I’m over reacting or if this is wrong. It has also gotten so much worse now that there getting a divorce so I feel like I should just tough it out until the divorce is finalized. My mom also insists that I should live near her, ( the same plot of land in her mind like a half an acre or a acre at most) but i don’t know if that’s what I want. Despite me have anxiety I want to move away for space or even better out of state to have fresh air. I feel like a horrible daughter.

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2024.05.15 05:18 Blitzed_Artist Am a horrible daughter.

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2024.05.15 05:14 devindaphnis Treatment Assessment

Hi there! I’m on probation in Arizona for a felony drug conviction back in February 2023. I am trying to transfer from Maricopa to Pima County, if that’s relevant. I was sentenced to three years probation, but my plea deal said I could cut that time in half if I completed a treatment program. I tried several locations in Phoenix at this program called Terros Health, and attended meetings for about two months at one of them. However, the treatment environment was extremely disappointing and not conducive to healing and for the sake of my own mental health, I had to stop going. Then my life got busy, and suddenly it was time for testing. I was then tested for six months and tested clean the whole way. I even had a surprise UA several months after that, which was clean, and that was about a month ago. I am still very much sober but I am running out of time to complete an entire program, many of which want you to attend meetings multiple times a week, which I am way too busy for. I asked my last PO if there was another option, and she said that all I would need to do was complete a treatment assessment at one of these facilities, and if they determine that I am not at risk of going back to illicit drug use, I can present that finding to the court and have them consider it.
So my question is: Does anyone know anything more about this process? What does a typical treatment assessment entail, and what should I do if they still determine me to be at risk in spite of probably nine months of sobriety beginning in July with my UA testing (minus a relapse)? I don’t even know my Date of Last Use. I had a relapse in December for a few days, and one usage in February, but nothing since, and my interest in going back has been completely diminishing over time, with me now being too damn busy trying to keep my life afloat to even think about it. I just need this to work because being on probation has actually been getting in the way of me getting my life together moreso than it has actually “rehabilitated” me. I want this dark chapter of my life to be over and I don’t want to sit in a circle to talk about myself as an addict twice a week when that doesn’t even accurately reflect the problems I’m facing.

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2024.05.15 04:52 whoi8 Splash Fabric and stove mess questions. And what is anything?

This question is a 2 and 2 halves parter
Part 1: Has anyone ever looked into Splash Fabric?
It’s supposed to be a nontoxic water resistant cloth, like for a tablecloth. It’s laminated cotton: “100% cotton with a water based polyurethane coating.”
https://splashfabric.com/pages/not-your-grandmas-oilcloth
The website says it’s eco friendly and non toxic and that it’s Oeko-Tex certified. So if it’s Oeko-Tex certified, then presumably it’s safe for humans. Even if that’s true, would it shed microplastics? It’s supposed to be machine washable.
Part 1 and a half: I’ve seen Oeko-Tex on a lot of things since I started looking for plastic free stuff. Is it trustworthy?
Part 1 and another half: while searching for answers I came across two sisters ecotextiles
https://www.twosistersecotextiles.com/pages/are-not-all-fabrics-safe#:~:text=The%20fabrics%20we%20bring%20into,some%20absorb%20through%20our%20skin.
And they’re telling me that stuff listed as 100% cotton can be more like 73% cotton and 27% sht. I also saw someone in this sub say something about 100% wool stuff being treated with a ton of sht they don’t disclose. So how do I know what anything is?? Are there trustworthy brands and/or certifications anyone here typically uses? How do you decide what to trust?
Part 2: The whole point of this rabbit hole is to find a surface to cover my stove. I often go down rabbit holes finding really complicated solutions for things and completely missing a simple solution that I would like better, so I’m just gonna explain my use case and see if anyone has an idea I’d like better.
So I currently live in an apartment with a built in microwave above the stove. This is usually the case anywhere I live. I cook very infrequently but use the microwave all the time and I’m tired of accidentally making a mess of the stove while I’m dealing with the microwave and also tired of not having a flat working surface under the microwave.
My solution: put a wood cutting board under the microwave. Most options the size I want seem to be bad quality or super expensive. So I found some nice wooden cutting boards on IKEA that are the perfect size to have two side by side on the stove. (Don’t worry about safety, I don’t have the pilot light type of stove and I’m going to remove the knobs to prevent accidentally turning on the gas. The knobs will be nearby for when I need them. Or I’ll get safety covers or something. Tell me if this is a dumb idea and I’m still being unsafe please.)
Great, now I have nice cutting boards which I will also use very infrequently but are good to have. But now I have another surface to worry about dirtying and a potential gap in between the boards for food to fall into and make a mess on the stove. The idea of having to maintain the wood with oil or something stresses me out but I like the idea of having cutting boards when I need them and glass feels unwieldy, so I figured I’d stick with the boards and see if I could find a water resistant tablecloth type material, hence the question about Splash Fabric. I figure I could get a few pieces of fabric the size I want and use them on the stove or anywhere I need to protect a surface and I can just put them in the wash when I need to. And they’d be multipurpose.
So that’s where I’m at now. Thanks for visiting the inside of my brain.
Let me know any thoughts you want to share, thank you.
TLDR: splash fabric microplastics???
Also coincidentally someone just posted asking about cutting boards. I happened to find a helpful page though I haven’t fact checked it.
https://healthyhouseontheblock.com/non-toxic-cutting-boards.html#

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2024.05.15 04:47 PyroDesu The Redbud Murder Saga

DO NOT COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS. I am NOT OP. Original post by u/God_Dammit_MoonMoon in treelaw
trigger warnings: Tree Destruction
mood spoilers: Mild Confusion

(Virginia) Neighbor is on video ripping my eastern redbud sapling out of the ground - 2024-05-05
TLDR -- (location: VA) neighbor came onto my property -- I have her on video coming from her yard and carrying yard debris, looking around as she goes, walking up to one of my redbud saplings, ripping it out of the ground and breaking it in half a couple of times as she walked back to her property. The tree is very clearly on my property. She was (very clearly) looking to see if anyone was around before she did it. What is "standard procedure" here? How do I get her to replace at least the one tree I have her on video destroying? I'd ask how to not make this living situation awkward, but we're way past that at this point.
Long Version:
I live in Virginia in a neighborhood without an HOA. I bought my house a couple of years ago and there were zero large trees in the yard.
All of my neighbors have very landscaped yards. My house needed renovation, so I haven't done much in the yard other than plant some trees so they had time to get established. In the 2 years I've lived here, I've planted 7 trees in the front yard.
4 of the trees I have planted have been eastern redbud saplings on either side of my driveway. The first pair died over the first winter I was here and then I planted the second pair this past fall.
The most recent pair survived. One was absolutely thriving and the other was struggling but had growth. Between the trees and my neighbors property is my mailbox and the trees have mulch rings.
I say these things because it's not like there's a question of whose property the trees were on or did they look dead (and did the neighbor think they were doing me a favor by removing yard debris).
Three weeks ago, I went out to check the mail and the one closest to my neighbors yard was missing. There wasn't a sapling laying on the ground so it wasn't like an animal chewed it at the base and it fell over. The entire thing was gone but the mulch wasn't disturbed. I even dug into the mulch to try to find the root ball because it was so weird. No root ball.
My partner and I couldn't remember the last time we had seen it and we had friends in town helping with the renovation so it went out of our mind as a weird thing. Partner was convinced it was an animal. I was convinced someone stole my tree.
Tonight, I went out to take the garbage to the road and -- lo and behold -- the 2nd redbud is missing.
I look around for it -- in case it's on the ground and it's not there. Mulch isn't disturbed. Exact same situation as the other one. So I dig down to try to find the root ball and there isn't one. it's only 4ft tall, so not like there'd be a big one to begin with.
I call my partner and let them know. They've been out of town but mention when they left Wednesday morning, they remember checking on the tree. So I go to the video footage.
It was there the morning of the 1st and the morning of the 2nd. The morning of the 3rd....hard to tell. It might be there. It might not. I go through more video from friday and confirm the tree is not there.
So I go back to the 2nd and I start going through the video and around 7pm, I get my answer -- I see my neighbor walk onto my property, carrying yard debris from her yard. She's looking around, and then walks up to the tree, rips it out of the ground, and walks back off to her property snapping the tree in half a couple of times as she goes. If I had to guess, she was carrying the yard debris as a cover "oh I thought it was yard debris and I was just trying to help".
I went back to check to see if I have her on video doing the same thing to the first tree, but the video doesn't go back that far unless you specifically save the video (which I didn't think to do). If I were a gambler, I'd put money on the fact that she did the same thing to the first tree.
I know tree law in VA states that if the trees are on your side you can trim them as long as you don't do it to a point where you kill them, but these trees were very much on my property. The one that she killed recently, it was literally the tree, my driveway, a small stretch of yard (where the 1st tree was that went missing) , my mailbox, and then the neighbors yard.
What is standard procedure here on addressing this with a neighbor? I don't want to get police involved for destruction of property but at the same time, who comes onto someones property and rips their trees out of the ground?
Unrelated -- my relationship with this neighbor has always been wonderful. Like I bake them pies and the give me things from their garden. We bring in packages for each other when fedex inevitably delivers them to the wrong house. There was a windstorm in March that blew a tree from their neighbors yard (two houses down from me) into their yard and I went out with my chainsaw to help cut it up so it didn't just sit.
*quick update\*
So this has gathered far more comments than I expected but I figured there were a couple of things that needed to be addressed.
First -- the video. The video is safe. I have a copy on my phone, personal laptop, work laptop, and have sent it to many, many friends because it's such a batshit situation. We have copies should I need to use it.
Second, tree proximity to property line -- because I was curious, I went out with my handy dandy tape measure to check to see how far the trees were planted from the line. The first tree that was yoinked 3 weeks ago was 6ft from the property line. The second tree that was pulled a few days ago was 22 feet 3 inches from the property line. The only one arguably "close" to the property line was the first one (6ft from the line) and honestly, if she had come to me with a concern about it, I probably would have agreed to move it in the fall when it went dormant and it was safe to do so. Instead she chose tree violence.
Third, "the plan". Because my partner travels a lot, we both own our houses (so neither of us are going anywhere), and because I want to make sure she doesn't retaliate against the other 9 baby trees in my backyard (that's fenced in) or my dog, I've decided to take u/kemperflow 's advice to an extent. Basically I'm going to tell them someone vandalized and stole property out of my yard and that I'm going to be going through the video from one of the cameras in the next couple of days and this camera points at the area of the trees. I'm going to ask them if they've had anyone vandalize or steal their property in the last week or so. Basically giving them the opportunity to fess up and give me whatever lie they come up with on the spot as to why she destroyed the trees. If she owns up to it, I'll ask her to buy me new trees to make it right and then tell her she should not come onto my property and do something like this again without my permission. If she doesn't, in a few days I'll go back with the video and give her another opportunity to make it right. At that point if she still doesn't, then I'll report her for theft and destruction of property and have her trespassed. Because we're not going anywhere anytime soon, I don't want to go completely nuclear in the first round. Hopefully it doesn't get to last bit.
Fourth, she is an avid gardener. She has trees lining the back of her property, trees on the property line she shares with me (close to where the redbud massacre of 2024 occurred), a vegetable garden, so many rose and phlox bushes I've lost count and recently added some new low shrubs near the trees on the back of her property. Her yard is very curated with many shrubs, trees, and flowers -- both deciduous and evergreen. While I could be wrong, I don't think her removing the trees had to do with her being concerned about their leaves. If she were, she'd probably take down one of the two 60 yr old maple trees in her backyard.

Update: (Virginia) Neighbor is on video ripping my eastern redbud sapling out of the ground - 2024-05-07
Okay, so this will *hopefully* be the final update and there won't be any need to get motion activated sprinklers involved. I'm not ruling them out if this ends up escalating after this post.
Today I worked from my closet because it has a window that just so happens to overlook my neighbors garden and her car was in her driveway so I knew she was home.
Around 1pm she made an appearance so I went out to "check the mail". I waved to her with a big smile and said hello. She said hello and we exchanged minor pleasantries. And then I segued into asking
"Oh hey, have you guys noticed if you've had anything stolen or vandalized in your yard?"
"Oh no. not at all."
"I'm glad to hear it. I've had two trees taken from my yard over the last 3 weeks."
"What do you mean taken from your yard?"
"Well the two redbuds I had at the end of the driveway -- they were saplings and one was by the mail box and the other was by the lamp post. The first disappeared about 3 weeks ago and the second one disappeared sometime after Wednesday last week."
"No, we haven't had anything like that happen."
"That's great. Yeah, I don't know what happened. I'm going to check one of the cameras I have on the property in the next couple of days. It's pointed at the driveway, so it gets clear views of the trees and we'll be able to see what happened. Hopefully it's just animals or something because if someone came onto my property and stole them, I'm going to have to get the police involved for theft."
If I didn't have her attention before, I definitely had it at the last bit because she started asking more clarifying questions about these missing trees -- What kind of trees did you say? And where were they? How big were they?
I answer all of her questions and add on that it sucks because I bought these trees and they had been planted since fall but "Yeah, I guess we will find out what happened in a few days when I have an opportunity to check the video." And that's about the time she says "Oh, That might've been me. I think I thought they were weeds." (For the record — no I do not believe she mistook two 4ft saplings for weeds.)
I let her know that if that's the case, I would like her to replace them. To which she replies that she's not sure but it might've been.
I reassured her that it's okay if she doesn't know. We can wait to resolve this until I view the video because I absolutely do not want her to pay for replacements if she's not responsible.
Y'all. She absolutely did not want me to go to the video.
She asked me what kind of trees again and I told her. She said that if I told her how much they were, she’d pay me back.
And I said “are you sure you don’t want to wait to check the video?”
“No no. I’ll take care of it. Just let me know.”
I pulled my phone up and found comparable redbuds online and we calculated the total that she would owe together. She went inside and gave me cash to get replacements for the redbuds. We stood and chatted for a couple more minutes but I did reiterate that she needed to talk with me before doing something like this in the future and if she see's some weeds that she thinks needs to be pulled on my property to let me know because it isn't fair or right for her to bear the burden of weeding my yard.
And so concludes The Redbud Murder Saga. (I hope)

Reminder - I am not the original poster. DO NOT COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS.

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2024.05.15 04:29 Garlic8317 AITAH for being upset with my mother after she unloaded a bunch of bombshells on me?

There's a lot to explain, and I'm pretty sure that the title doesn't do this situation justice. This is also a throwaway acc- I don't want a suddenly depressing post getting cozy with all my memes and cheery content.
A little backstory- I (16F, Soph) have had bad blood with my mom (36F) for a while, since around the 7th grade. My grades have been iffy, but since freshman year I've been working to fix them. Third quarter, I had an extremely low point. Every day was a haze and I can't remember what sent me through it, and when I snapped out of it, it was too late to change anything. I had straight F's, all except for one of my math classes, which I don't even understand how I managed to maintain. These have plummeted my semester grade, but I've fixed some of them, evened them out to high D's, low C's, and a B. Two of them are unsalvageable, which is completely my fault. I'm still working to raise one more up to a D in the semester.
This all "started" a couple of weeks ago, but I'm guessing it's been building since my last parent teacher confrence. My mother had sat us down in the living room last saturday and informed my sisters (11F and 13F) and I that we were moving, and she's putting our trailer up for sale the first of next month. She said where we find a place is where we will move, so I can't even prepare myself for what I should expect. The main issues I have with moving are;
1- I had to go through it a lot when I was younger and had a really unstable social life, most likely the root of my current social anxiety.
2- I'm nearly an adult- I'm halfway through highschool. It's not going to be easy for me to make new friends in a social climate I have no prior existence in, let alone be able to keep the friends I could potentially make when they move on for college in 2 years. Don't get me wrong, I'd still stay in contact with the friends I have where I'm at, but when you have no friends in the area you live in, it's rough.
3- When I was younger, she promised me that I'd be able to finish my edjucation here, even college if I chose any of them in my area. I know it's stupid to hang on the words of a promise, that things change and promises sometimes can't be held up, but it still hurts being ripped away when I was nearly done with highschool.
My sisters got excited and started looking for new places immediately. I know our place isn't a dream, but we came here, owning nothing but a car. I started the third grade in this town and have been here since. This is my childhood home since the age of nine, I don't remember any other houses we rented. We actually own this trailer too- we're not just renting it from someone. I helped build my own room out of an off limits area when I was 11. It's not perfect, but it's most of what I've known. So are my friends. I can't count how many I've kept since the start of middle school, even if they transfered.
Even if I don't want to leave, I'm no angel. My room is dirty almost all the time, I can't see the floor because of a bunch of dirty clothes. That's one of the reasons my mom is holding against me to make it seem unreasonable that I'm upset about moving- "You don't appreciate your own room." I have no excuse for the way my room looks. It just feels like im paralyzed on my bed afterschool and on the weekends, I'm just tired. I don't know whether or not I'm lazy, isn't being lazy supposed to be enjoyable, at least for the short term in the moment?
The other reason she's giving me are my grades. As stated before, those aren't perfect either, but I'm trying. I've even taken steps to enroll myself into summer school to recover the credits I missed this year. Sure, I have flaws, but does that mean I'm not allowed to be upset over moving at such a crucial developmental point in my life? I'm not even arguing with her about it, all I'm doing is expressing how I feel- I'm not even saying anything to her, I said my piece when she sat us down. I'm just grieving.
Earlier today, she picked me up, everything seemed normal. Then she told me she had a conversation with my dad, (39M), who's out of the picture, but still communicating. She told me that he and her discussed about things continuing "the way I'm taking them." She said if I don't change, she's just going to pull me out of school and make me get my GED. She said she was worried I was going to ruin my career. A GED isn't bad, by all means, but I want an actual diploma. I want to be there with everyone else, dressed in a solid color robe, celebrating the fact that we made it. I won't have the advantages of any early social life at all in the area. I've heard adults say it's hard to make friends once you graduate, and I don't want to be thrown into that early, while being in a new area all at the same time.
I was thinking about all this in the car and cried. I don't think I can take much more of this. It's like she wants my life to follow a certain track, and I'm derailing her train. She dropped out her sophmore year to get married and do hard drugs for a while before she had me, so in my personal opinion, I'm doing way better than she ever had. I know it sounds harsh, and maybe I am being harsh, but when you hear the same story shoved down your throat over and over and over since the 3rd grade, and now said story has been turned into a weapon, it kind of gets redundant to you.
My mom tried cheering me up while we were out for a bit after dropping that by trying to show me facebook memes and telling me funny things my guinea pigs did to eachother that day, but I gave her the cold shoulder the entire time, so now she's pissed. I didn't even say anything, she just started spouting that "I hated her" and "I'm gonna cut her out of my life when I'm older", "I'd rather see her dead than talk with her."
The first two are at least half true at this point, she's been nothing but a source of harsh criticism for years of my life, barely any encouragement or pride in me, if anything at all. If she keeps doing that, I might end up hating her and cutting contact, which just hurts to think about. I don't want to cut contact with the only parent that raised me, even if she didn't raise me well. I still love her at the end of the day, and I think I hate that more than I hate her.
I don't know if this is all just incoherent rambling at this point, I've been crying through 2/3 of the way through this I think. I know I'm not a saint, and I'm at least a partial asshole, but am I completely at fault for this? Did I fall into being a moody, hormonal teen that hates their parents for no reason on accident? AITA?
TLDR: AITA if I'm upset over my mom making me move in the middle of attending high school, on top of threatening to pull me out of school all together for "the sake of my career"?
If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I just need help.

submitted by Garlic8317 to AITAH [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 04:20 Foreign_Ad9158 Daughter 35F need advice to get over some 'little things' with father 62M please?

I'm from a very complicated family, everyone contributes to this weirdest family relationships.
Long story short, parents been separated for 15-20yrs, Mother is 'NPD' controlling freak who hates me and wishes me dead, but slightly changed how she treats since I've been working. My elder brother is not close to me at all, thanks to Mother's manipulation that turned him against me. Father, oh, Father is just... I don't know how to talk about him, I'll try to not put too much emotional stuff in this.
Father worked really hard to raise us two kids. I used to be so sad just watching him going through daily hard labor work, day after day. As you can imagine, he does not make much.
My brother has caused lots of trouble, starting with before I even got to school, families would constantly tell him, his life was degraded because of my birth, which is probably true. Mother would say, look how much your brother sacrificed for me and whatever I ate, my brother spared for me, etc. ever since I was a baby.
While we were still in school, my brother tried to rob some taxi driver and got into lots of trouble. I watched Father’s hair turn grey overnight. Then he got a girl pregnant, and her parents threatened to sue him ‘raping the girl’. Father’s hair went almost completely grey that year.
Father looked so much older during those few years. I feel so terrible cause I was not helping much.
Parents fought every year, especially around festivals. I hate festivals and family reunions as bad as you can imagine.
Even years later now, it sets me in this dramatically desperately sad mode even just talking with them. At least a whole week would be super messed up and then slowly adjusting myself back to be a normal person.
See I really appreciate how Father has done for us and he even got me through college. I witnessed all the pain and hard work he put done for this.
I was close to him but in a weird way, I often hate him too, trying to keep my distance. I didn’t understand why.
Until the 3^rd year in college, one of my friends was really depressed for a while, one day she was talking about some really difficult stuff she was going through with her dad, I was trying to listen and help her through that period.
And suddenly it hit me so hard, shit, think my dad did the same thing to me as well.
That day opened up a gap in that forced to be closed slowly healed rough ugly scar from family traumas, all those left behind memories flooded back to me. Ever since then, I have been in an even worse condition. All the sadness, oh boy, even today, I’m in tears just typing these words.
My uncle is a rapist. Before he was sent to jail, he pulled my pants as well, he didn’t do anything further besides watching, at least that one time that know of, nothing else happened. I was about maybe 5yrs old, I didn’t know what it meant. The year he was arrested, I was already in elementary school and starting to know that was, maybe, not right. When I told my parents about it, and they said, well just shut up about it and don’t mention it to anyone else, you should be ashamed.
When I was about 10yrs old, I started to be sent to semi foster type of families, mainly neighbors, because parents had to work somewhere else, and brother started boarding school. My foster family are generally nice to me, treated me well, fed me 3 meals a day. Food makes people happy.
I was also happy because Father wasn’t around.
The first time I sensed danger I was about 9yrs old.
Again, Mother had never ever told me anything about what is like being a girl, how to deal with period, breast may start to have some changes, wear underwear, wash and clean lady parts, etc. nothing.
I didn’t exist in that house unless she needed someone to vent. As you can see, I was smart, I made myself invisible as much as I could.
Around 4^th grade I had to do some performance for children’s day, our headmaster accidentally realized I was not wearing any undergarments, so she kindly gave me some of her granddaughter’s. After that performance, I started to wear those every day. They look more like little cami top shirts.
One day I woke up, I was already late for school. I got so scared, and I started crying. Father was often more patient with me. He was comforting me and told me to get off bed and get ready for school. I was crying and I wasn’t paying much attention to what he said. And suddenly I realized he stopped talking. I looked up and watched him staring at me, he looked so strange and oddly scary at that moment, not like he was beat me or anything, like a … predator. I tried to figure out what caught his attention and then I realized, half of my breast was showing because the undergarments were too big for me, and I moved when sitting up in bed.
I immediately stopped crying and pulled it up. But I would never forget his eyes, the way he stared at my breasts. It often makes me sick whenever thinking about it even today. I was confused and a bit scared, and I guess ever since then it sort of startled me, the love for my father. But again, I was too young to understand what happened and I did not have anyone around me to tell me girls’ changes around certain age.
Father soon left for a few years, and I was really relived. I don’t know how to describe this feeling and I could only understand myself better till years later.
After Father left, I started going around semi foster families, including my grandparents’ place. Around summertime, I realized the bathroom lock broke, so I just blocked it from inside with chairs every time taking a shower. Still one day, my grandfather forced in and claimed he needed something from the inside. I stood there naked for a second, then rushed to get my clothing and rushed out of the bathroom.
Ever since then, I tried everything to lock that door even more solidly and it worked. The problem is, even today, living thousands of miles away from where I grew up with, I am still extremely insecure with door locks, I buy all sorts of locks to double lock every door, using door stoppers as well.
Then one day, Father just showed up in my school again. He was back. I was happy but deep down something also quietly but terribly disturbed my peace.
One afternoon, while taking a shower, I suddenly felt weird. I started looking around and didn’t find anything odd. But that feeling keeps coming back. So, I looked around again; this time, I saw Father’s face and his eyes were by the window and staring at me, he was so concentrated and didn’t even realize I already saw him. I had to ask him what he was doing there, and he told me he was checking if I finished taking a shower. He looked panicked just like years ago when I busted him staring at my breasts when I was still in 4^th grade.
There were so many little things that happened when I was a kid, but I did not have the knowledge to distinguish what that meant.
I remember starting from one day, my grandmother started to guard me right outside the bathroom every time I took a shower. I didn’t know what that was for, she never mentioned anything, also because she was never that close to me, and I was the least favorite kid.
It’s like a puzzle. So many things started to connect, so many memories I buried deep down started to come back to me. I was so depressed for the first few years after I realized what happened to me when I was a kid. My friend’s memory somewhat triggered my memory valve as well.
About the time I started looking for internships, I was really busy, and it was stressful. One early morning, on the way to work I picked up a call from Father. He told me he was going to commit suicide but didn’t do it because of me.
Mother is really toxic which was not news to me, and they had separated for so many years and I really pity him. I had lots of terrible memories regarding Mother, I thought about suicide so many times every day for many many years ever since I learned the word ‘death’. I just never thought Father was gonna say it out first. It really shocked me, and I was really terrified. But again, death was never an extreme word for me, it was like a relief from my parents. See confused and scared, never knew what’s really going in my mind. I had so much to deal with and I felt I was going to explode but I didn’t have time for that, I was graduating college that year.
But since that, my previous thoughts about confronting Father about his perverting behaviors when I was kid, it just could not be done.
Now for years, I was torn again and again with thoughts about confronting him also worrying it might humiliate him and caused his suicidal thoughts again. I couldn’t tell if he was just trying to manipulate me or was really desperate.
Father worked hard raising my brother and me, and I got into college.
I have been depressed for years, struggling all the time, cutting myself at times when super extremely desperate and couldn’t do anything about it. I would buy tickets traveling all over the world and put parents’ names in my travel insurance, hoping that would pay them back if anything happened.
When I was about 30yrs old, finally one day I confronted him, twice, in person and on the phone, and he denied of course.
Again, I didn’t want to say anything and get him killed, so I stayed quiet for quite a few years again.
But in recent years, I couldn’t help it. I started screaming at him in my dreams and it kept me awake for days after such dreams.
A few days ago, I texted him about it and wanted an apology. I need closure. I desperately need it. I wasn’t planning to go any further than that and I was ready to let it go if he just admits it and just apologize.
After all, for many people, it might not even be considered as such an evil thing to do, right? I don’t know, I am super exhausted and confused.
He soon replied, of course he denied again and saying I was humiliating him, and he said if I still do not believe him, I should consider him dead. Also, he said, you two are my kids, what is there that I have never seen on you two anyways?
I cried for the whole night.
It is so disgusting that he really tried to manipulate me to accept what he said with suicidal/ death threatening, also how he tried to justify his behaviors.
I wished him well and promised to send money when I can, but also told him I won’t be talking to him anymore.
This is as much as I could have done for that little kid when I look back, that little me. It was not as expected but I have to let it go now.
I so wish someone could tell me how someone can be a father also a monster. I don’t know if I am being dramatic about these ‘little things’. I am so worried about he might kill himself because I wouldn’t know how to cure myself with that strike.
But I am in so much pain inside and as always I want to save myself. Every time talking to him is like sharpening this knife to cut open this giant ugly roughly almost healed scar. It’s so ugly and painful.

submitted by Foreign_Ad9158 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:56 PlayerREDvPlayerBLUE The New Eden Conflict

Chapter Two - Part One
Second Half
__________________
Beginning of Entry…
StarDate: Redacted
Perspective: Major Commander Michael Irons
Species: Human, Humanoid Mammalian Species, no tail.
Description: 5 feet 2 inches [1.6 meters] to 6 feet 9 inches [2.1 meters] average height. 185 lbs [84 kilograms] average weight.
Longevity: 70 to 500-year life expectancy with life extension medical tech.
Unique Trait: Resilience and Indomitable Will.
Place: New Paris (Capital City)
Location: New Eden Prime
In the early hours, as the dawn cast a pallid light over New Eden Prime, the situation unfolded with urgent clarity. Major Commander Michael Irons, alongside Captain Adam Richter, adjusted his Raider armor, his eyes scanning the horizon where the silhouettes of enemy ships began to materialize. Both men were seasoned veterans, their faces etched with the lines of many battles, their demeanor calm yet alert. They awaited instructions as they stood amid the bustling rally point filled with soldiers and militia.
Their focus shifted as Colonel Nick Estrada approached, his imposing figure cutting through the morning mist, the tension palpable in the air. The urgency of the situation had drawn commanders and soldiers alike, all responding to the blare of alarms that had roused the colony from sleep and into action. Colonel Nick Estrada approached, his presence commanding immediate attention. His frame was not just physically imposing but carried the authority of a man who had seen countless skirmishes and emerged victorious. The commanders snapped to attention, though the informality of the crisis allowed for a quicker exchange.
Colonel Estrada, known for his strategic acumen, surveyed the gathered officers before speaking. "Gentlemen," he began, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Major Commander Irons, Captain Richter, the enemy fleet is now visible. We're seeing a full spectrum—we're up against a formidable enemy. Reconnaissance has identified a significant fleet composition—strike craft, corvettes, frigates, and troop transports. They're not just probing our defenses; they're here for a full-scale invasion."
Major Commander Irons nodded solemnly, absorbing the gravity of the situation. The enemy's intentions were clear: to overwhelm and conquer. "Do we have any intel on their motivations, sir?" he asked, his mind racing through potential strategies.
Estrada's eyes narrowed as he reviewed the latest data on his tactical pad. "Current assessments suggest their primary objective could be resource acquisition or territory expansion. Given the organized nature of their fleet, we can't rule out the possibility of them establishing a forward operating base," he explained, his finger tracing possible invasion routes on the holographic display before them.
Irons' jaw tightened at the assessment. "Have we identified their point of origin or any specific markings that could tell us who we're dealing with?" he asked, his mind racing through the catalog of known hostile factions and their usual tactics.
Captain Richter, ever the tactician, chimed in, "If we can disrupt their landing operations and take out their troop transports, we might slow their advance and buy us some time to fortify positions."
"Not yet," Estrada replied, turning to gaze at the display screen that showed the advancing ships. "Their configurations are unfamiliar, which suggests they're not from any known hostile group within our usual conflict zones. This could be a new player or a proxy force from a rival colony. But it's clear they want New Eden, as the orbital forces were obliterated in minutes."
Estrada, after careful consideration, turned to face the digital map highlighting strategic points around the colony. 'That's a start, but we need a comprehensive plan,' he declared. 'Irons, your units will be crucial in the eastern sector, where their fleet appears most concentrated. Richter, your teams will be our shield in the orbital defenses; we cannot allow them to establish a foothold there."
Richter chimed in, his voice steady despite the escalating tension. "We need to assess their capabilities and intentions quickly. Are they aiming for strategic locations, or is this an outright attempt to overwhelm and occupy?"
Estrada nodded, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "Our immediate objective is to hold them at bay and protect civilian areas. I've already ordered evacuations where necessary. Irons, I need your units to fortify the eastern sector. It's closest to their projected landing sites."
"And I'll take the western approach," Richter added quickly. "It has fewer natural barriers, so I'll set up mobile defenses there."
Estrada approved with a brisk nod. "Good. I'll coordinate the orbital defenses to cover your flanks. We can't let them gain a foothold. Whatever their motive, it ends here."
The officers acknowledged their orders, understanding the critical nature of their tasks. Estrada continued. "We'll use the tram system for rapid redeployment. Keep your communications lines open, and expect dynamic orders. We need to be as adaptable as they are aggressive."
As the meeting drew to a close, Major Commander Irons felt the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. The survival of New Eden Prime hinged not only on their military prowess but also on their ability to outmaneuver an enemy whose capabilities remained largely shrouded in mystery.
With a final nod from Estrada, Irons and Richter dispersed to relay orders to execute their assignments; Irons felt the weight of the imminent conflict pressing down. Each step they took was heavy with the resolve to protect their home, knowing the enemy loomed just beyond the horizon, ready to test the mettle of New Eden's defenders. This wasn't just another border skirmish or a pirate raid. The scale of the invasion suggested a well-planned offensive by a formidable enemy.
Returning to his command post, Irons pulled up the tactical displays, which showed live feeds from drones and satellites tracking the enemy's advance. Each ship was marked in red and moved steadily towards New Eden's defensive perimeter.
"Let's show them what New Eden is made of," he muttered to himself, a mix of resolve and anticipation coursing through his veins.
This was his colony, his home, where his family and millions of others lived and dreamed of a peaceful future among the stars. Today, the peace and survival of the colony depended on his actions and those of his comrades.
As the first enemy ships entered range, Irons gave the order. "All units, engage at will. Prioritize frigates and anything making landfall. We hold the line, no matter what."
Back at the rally point, as shells began to crisscross the morning sky and the first explosions blossomed in the distance, Estrada and Richter coordinated their sectors' defenses, adjusting to the flow of battle. Each report, each burst of static on the comms, added to the day's growing chorus—a chorus filled with the sounds of a colony defending its very existence.
Above them, the sky turned from morning gray to the dark of smoke and fire, the battle for New Eden truly underway. As the alien forces made their ground assault on New Paris, Major Commander Michael Irons quickly marshaled his defensive strategies. The invaders had exploited a slight weakness at the equator of the planet's shield, where the northern and southern fields met, allowing a fraction of their invasion force to penetrate. This strategic breach had permitted several enemy corvettes and frigates to support the ground troops as they marched toward the city.
The morning sky, once clear and promising, was now darkened by the presence of enemy ships. Their shadows cast an ominous pall over the city as their engines roared menacingly overhead. Irons, stationed at the command post just on the outskirts of New Paris, observed the advancing enemy through his binoculars, his heart racing with adrenaline and cold determination.
Despite the thinning of their numbers due to the shield's resistance, the invaders pushed forward with relentless determination. Their landing crafts, equipped to penetrate the weakened shield points by slowing their descent, deployed troops directly into the fray. This strategic insertion allowed them to bypass the stronger defenses and land a significant force just outside the protective barrier of New Paris.
Irons, stationed at the command post, monitored the unfolding chaos through live drone feeds. The images displayed a grim tableau: columns of alien soldiers advancing toward the city, their movements methodical and unhurried, supported by the ominous silhouettes of their air support. The enemy's tactical acumen was evident in every maneuver, challenging the defenders of New Eden to adapt swiftly.
"Prepare all air defense units and activate the aerial defense batteries," Irons commanded into the comm, his voice steady despite the escalating threat. The air around him buzzed with the hurried movements of soldiers and the crackling of radio communications. The colony's air defense force, though robust, was significantly outnumbered without the support of their orbital fleet, which had been decimated in earlier skirmishes. "Target their air support first. We cut off the head, and the body will falter."
Acknowledgments crackled through his earpiece as his orders were relayed down the chain of command. New Eden's air defense force, though robust, was not designed for such a multifaceted assault. The absence of fleet support from orbit, a disadvantage painfully felt by every soldier on the ground, meant that each shot from the aerial defense batteries had to count.
On the battlefield, the sounds of warfare escalated. Explosions rippled across the early morning sky, painting it with streaks of fire as the colony's defenses engaged the invading air units. Irons watched as each successful strike brought down an enemy craft, each plummeting vessel a small victory in the shadow of an overwhelming threat.
Yet, even as they held the line against the aerial assault, the ground forces braced for the inevitable confrontation. The alien troops, undeterred by the resistance from above, continued their steady march towards New Paris. Their ranks, though reduced, remained formidable—a sea of figures clad in armor that glinted under the rising sun, their weapons poised for battle.
"The shields are holding, but we can't let them gain any more ground," Irons muttered, analyzing the tactical map that glowed with indicators of enemy movement. The slight gap in the shield at the equator was a glaring risk, one that could not be ignored. "Reroute additional units to the southern sector," he instructed, pointing to the area where the shield's weakness was most pronounced. "Fortify our positions there. I don't want a single invader breaking through."
His focus then shifted to the city's defenses. New Paris, a symbol of human resilience and ingenuity on the frontier, was fortified with multiple layers of defenses designed to repel invaders and protect its citizens. But today, those defenses would face their greatest test.
"We're on our own," Irons acknowledged, his gaze sweeping across the room filled with operators and strategists. "Every soldier, every pilot—we're what stands between them and the city. We hold them here, at the edge, before they can reach the heart of our home."
As the enemy's ground forces drew closer, the clash became imminent. Irons could see the front lines through the drones—human soldiers taking positions, their bodies tense with anticipation, their weapons trained on the approaching threat. The air crackled with the energy of impending combat, a mixture of fear, determination, and the indomitable will to protect their planet.
"Engage at maximum range," Irons commanded. "Use the terrain to our advantage. Make them come to us through the kill zones."
The enemy's corvettes and frigates hovered menacingly, coordinating the ground troops as they continued their relentless march toward the city's defenses. Irons could see the troops adjusting their formations and a tactical maneuver meant to optimize their approach under cover of their aerial support.
"Focus fire on those corvettes flanking to the east," Irons directed, pointing to the screens displaying satellite imagery. The operators quickly relayed his commands, adjusting the colony's firepower towards the threatening vessels.
Despite the heavy onslaught, the morale among Irons' men was resolute. They were well-trained and prepared to defend their home against all odds. The sound of anti-aircraft fire filled the air, a relentless symphony of defiance against the invading forces. Explosions lit up the morning sky as some of the enemy crafts took hits, their debris raining down and igniting small fires upon the rugged terrain of New Eden Prime.
Irons turned his attention back to the ground troops, noting the enemy's attempt to regroup after each barrage. "They're testing our defenses, looking for weak points. Make sure all sectors are covered and reinforce any undermanned positions," he instructed his lieutenants.
The battle was fierce, with every moment critical. The enemy's numerical advantage was evident, but the defenders of New Paris were determined to make every shot count. The city's aerial defense batteries worked in overdrive, targeting the enemy's air support in an attempt to level the playing field. The city's shield generators protected the city from any aerial bombardment from the frigates. Only the ground forces were a threat as long as the city's shield generators held, but with every strike from those frigates, the shield became weaker.
As the enemy advanced, a sudden and intense firefight erupted at the southern barricade. Irons watched through surveillance feeds as his troops engaged the enemy, their laser rifles cutting through the morning mist. The ground shook with the impact of heavy artillery, a relentless exchange that tested the resolve of every soldier under his command.
"Keep the pressure on! Push them back!" Irons shouted over the radio, his voice a beacon of command amidst the chaos. The troops responded with renewed vigor, their shouts and gunfire merging into the cacophony of battle.
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2024.05.15 03:55 PlayerREDvPlayerBLUE The New Eden Conflict

Chapter Two - Part One
First Half
__________________
Outposts sprang up on Mercury and the moons of the Kuiper Belt, each a testament to human ingenuity and perseverance. The harsh landscapes of these worlds posed new challenges, but they also offered new resources and opportunities. The ability to leap across the galaxy using faster-than-light travel encapsulated the dark, relentless drive of the human spirit to explore, expand, and survive.
The network of colonies became interconnected, serving as launch pads for further exploration. The new FTL technologies transformed the galaxy into a neighborhood rather than an infinite wilderness. Each jump through space brought humanity closer to its neighbors in the cosmos, for better or worse.
The universe, once a vast, lonely place, was now a landscape of potential new homes and new challenges. As humanity spread out from the Solar System to the stars, the stage was set for new conflicts and new stories, written not in the light of the Sun but in the starlight of distant worlds.
__________________
Humanity's march to the stars was driven by necessity and survival, stark against the backdrop of Earth's dwindling resources and rising conflicts. After World War I, the foundational theories of rocketry emerged, setting the stage for the later technological leaps that would propel humans into space. The brutal rivalry of the Cold War accelerated these advancements, pushing the Soviet Union and the United States to compete in the space race, a silent war fought with satellites and lunar landings.
The practical applications of these early missions were not just about planting flags but also about testing human limits and technologies in the harsh environment of space. The moon landings of 1969 were a global spectacle. Yet, they also underscored the sheer isolation and vulnerability of human life suspended in the cosmic void.
As the decades rolled on, the international focus shifted from competition to cooperation. The space shuttle program symbolized this new era, with nations coming together to build the International Space Station and to send joint missions to Mars. These efforts turned sci-fi dreams into reality—establishing bases on the moon and sending manned missions to Mars laid the groundwork for future colonization.
The drive to inhabit Mars and the moon grew out of a blend of fear and fascination. Habitats expanded into fully functioning colonies, tapping into local resources to create self-sustaining environments. Technologies developed for extracting water and producing air on these barren worlds were critical for long-term survival.
In the shadows of these achievements, the Alcubierre Warp drive emerged as a revolutionary breakthrough, allowing humanity to leapfrog across vast stellar distances in a blink. The UNV Pathfinder and its sister ship, the UNV Exploration, were equipped with this technology to reconnect with colony ships sent out decades earlier in the Great Exodus. These vessels carried not just new drives but also vital updates in agriculture, medicine, and communications to ensure the colonies could thrive.
Each successful mission with the warp drives was a lifeline, not only physically connecting distant colonies to Earth but also weaving a web of interstellar human culture. Resources and knowledge flowed freely, bolstering each colony's chance of success. These ships were built to endure the extremes of space. They were equipped with advanced life-support systems and autonomous navigation, and they were fortresses navigating the unknown.
Meanwhile, Earth and its solar system colonies were pushed further into space. Massive construction projects like O'Neal Cylinders and space elevators dotted the celestial landscape, marking human progress in the cosmos. Each colony, from Mars's rugged plains to the cloud tops of Venus, developed its distinct culture and identity, united by their shared heritage and mutual challenges.
Space travel was fraught with hazards. Asteroids and solar flares were just the beginning; the cosmos was a place of deep unpredictability and danger. Despite these risks, during this era, not just hundreds of thousands but hundreds of millions of people chose to leave Earth. They embarked on journeys aboard new colony ships. These immense vessels were comparable in size to or even surpassed the O'Neal Cylinder habitats in scale. These ships were behemoths, carrying the very essence of Earth and the seeds of future colonies.
The exodus reached systems like Alpha Centauri A and B, Proxima Centauri, Sirius A and B, Barnard's Star, Luyten 726-8 (BL Ceti and UV Ceti), Ross 154 (V1216 Sagittarii), and Wolf 359. These stars became the bedrock of the United Nations of Sol, the precursor to what would be known as the "Human Sphere." It was a time of unprecedented growth and prosperity for humanity, expanding further than ever before in its history.
As humans settled in these new worlds, they faced not only the physical challenges of new environments but also profound isolation and the psychological burden of being light-years away from Earth. Each colony developed its own way of life, adapting to the unique conditions of their new worlds. The challenges of establishing a foothold in these alien places were immense. Local resources were harvested, and technologies were adapted to create habitable atmospheres and viable ecosystems.
Communication between the colonies and Earth was sparse, limited by the vast distances. Each message took years to travel, even at the speed of light, making each colony effectively isolated in its own right. This isolation led to a variety of cultural evolutions and deviations from Earth's norms, which in turn led to a tapestry of diverse human experiences spread across the stars.
The technologies that allowed these pioneers to travel to and settle new worlds were monumental. Fusion drives, quantum computers, and terraforming equipment were standard on these ships. Life aboard the colony ships was a mix of awe at the cosmic vistas and the mundanity of daily life in confined spaces. Generations were born and died in transit, with only stories of Earth as their legacy.
Each new home was a gamble against the cosmos, and not all were successful. Some colonies failed tragically, and their populations were lost to space or were unable to survive in harsh new environments. But for every failure, there was a story of remarkable success and resilience. The human spirit, driven by a need to explore and expand, thrived in adversity. Humanity never gave up and, over the next century, continued to send colonists to each of these star systems and began the process of colonizing each system.
In the stark expanses of space, every new settlement humanity attempted was a stark challenge against the cosmos, and the failures were as common as the successes. Many colonies were lost—whole populations vanished into the void or succumbed to the inhospitable climes of unfamiliar planets. Despite these setbacks, for every outpost that fell, others sprang up in defiance of the odds, showcases of human resilience and determination.
This relentless push into the unknown was not powered by naïve optimism but rather a hardened will to forge a path, wherever possible, to lay claim to the stars themselves. Humanity's spirit, unbroken by repeated failures, continued to drive its expansion across galaxies. Over the decades, this resolve only hardened as each failed colony became a lesson in survival, a step towards mastering life in the cosmos.
The stark realities of space tested human resolve to its limits. Beyond the safety of the Solar System, the universe emerged not just as a vast place of exploration but as a harsh environment of extreme conditions and existential threats. The initial failures taught valuable lessons in logistics, life support, and sustainable living on alien soil, which were crucial for future endeavors.
Colonization efforts became more sophisticated over time. Humans developed technologies that could convert inhospitable terrains into somewhat livable habitats. Advanced terraforming equipment and life-support systems became standard in new colonies. These tools represented more than mere survival mechanisms; they were symbols of humanity's unyielding quest to inhabit the stars.
As colonies spread further into the galaxy, each new venture was underpinned by an increasingly detailed understanding of interstellar travel and survival. The experiences gathered from every failed settlement informed the next, creating a cumulative body of knowledge that bolstered human persistence. The drive to expand took on a rhythm of its own, a cycle of trial, error, and success that slowly but surely extended the reach of human civilization.
This cycle was reflected in the evolution of colonial policies and technologies. From the early days of rudimentary habitats to the development of massive, self-sustaining complexes that could house thousands, the growth was palpable. Each successful colony served as a proof of concept for the next. With each launch, humanity's footprint in the galaxy grew larger.
The colonies themselves varied wildly—a testament to human ingenuity and the diverse environments encountered. Some were burrowed into asteroids, others sprawled across red Martian sands or nestled in the volatile cloud tops of Venus. Each presented unique challenges and required bespoke solutions to make them habitable.
Interstellar ships, equipped with the latest in warp drive technology, ferried resources between these colonies. They were lifelines essential for maintaining the flow of essential supplies and personnel. These vessels were also carriers of culture and connection, linking distant humans across the void of space.
Despite the vast distances and slow communications, a network of human presence began to stitch together disparate points of light into a coherent tapestry of colonies. This network was more than a mere chain of outposts; it was the backbone of a burgeoning interstellar society—a network that held potential not only for survival but for a new era of human prosperity.
However, this expansion was not without its darker aspects. The harsh conditions of space required strict governance and often harsh penalties for breaches of colony protocol. Life in these new worlds was rigidly structured, a necessity to maintain order in environments where even a small mistake could be fatal.
Each new settlement was a dice roll against the vast uncertainties of space, and many did not survive. Failures were frequent; entire colonies vanished into the void or succumbed to the inhospitable conditions of their newfound planets. The loss of life was substantial, casting a shadow over the ambitious interstellar expansion efforts. However, each disaster also hardened the resolve of those who remained. The cumulative knowledge gained from these failures informed future endeavors, refining the protocols and technologies needed to endure and thrive in alien environments.
Despite the high stakes and frequent setbacks, human resolve remained unshaken. The determination to push forward, to establish a foothold in the cosmos, was fueled by necessity and the innate human drive to explore. As each failed colony became a lesson learned, the strategies for survival evolved. More robust life support systems were developed, and habitats were designed to be more adaptable to the unpredictable conditions of new worlds.
The stark reality of these endeavors was that many who left Earth would never return. They journeyed knowing the risks—trading the safety of their home planet for the promise of a new start on distant, uncharted worlds. This was the cost of progress, paid willingly by those driven by a vision of humanity's future among the stars.
With each new wave of colonists, technology and experience accumulated, reducing the risks and increasing the chances of success. Ships became more advanced, equipped with better navigation systems and life-support capabilities. Colonization techniques also improved, with genetic engineering playing a crucial role in adapting human physiology to extraterrestrial environments.
The harshness of space demanded a relentless pursuit of efficiency and sustainability. Resources were scarce, and logistical challenges were immense. The vast distances between colonies meant that each had to be largely self-sufficient. Communication lags, sometimes spanning years, forced these communities to develop a high degree of autonomy.
Over the centuries, this relentless expansion forged a new breed of human. These spacefarers were tough, adaptable, and fiercely independent. Their lives, spent on the frontier of human existence, were a testament to the species' tenacity. They cultivated their new worlds, turning barren landscapes into bustling colonies. These settlements eventually grew into hubs of culture and technology, distinct yet still connected to their ancestral home by shared history and common humanity.
Yet, the expansion was not without its darker aspects. The isolation of distant colonies often led to psychological strain and societal breakdown. In some cases, governance structures collapsed under the weight of external pressures and internal conflicts. Pirates and marauders, drawn by the wealth of fledgling colonies, became a significant threat, leading to the establishment of militarized zones and the deployment of defense forces.
As humans adapted to life in space, they also had to contend with the presence of other sentient species. Initial interactions were cautious and fraught with tension and misunderstandings. Some encounters led to conflict, others to alliances. These relationships were complex, shaped by a mix of diplomacy, trade, and, occasionally, warfare.
Humanity's venture into interstellar space fundamentally transformed its cultural and identity landscapes. As humans spread across the stars, encountering diverse environments and nurturing colonies on planets ranging from Mars to far-flung systems, the challenges of survival and the ethical dimensions of expansion pressed hard on their collective psyche.
Values long held sacred on Earth were reevaluated in the face of new realities. The discovery of life—fauna and flora—on other planets during these colonization efforts marked a pivotal shift. While no sentient alien species were encountered, the existence of alien ecosystems was profound. It highlighted not only humanity's isolation in the cosmos but also its responsibilities.
On Alpha Centauri, the first successful integration of Earth's lifeforms with alien biomes set a precedent. Genetic manipulation technologies were refined, allowing Earth's organisms to coexist with and enhance these extraterrestrial habitats. Conservation efforts were paramount; preserving the integrity and diversity of alien ecosystems became a moral imperative as much as a scientific endeavor.
Each colony, from the red dust of Mars to the lush jungles of distant exoplanets, became a testbed for these principles. They were microcosms where human ingenuity, ethical considerations, and ecological stewardship intersected. Through these experiences, humanity did not just spread through space; it grew, evolved, and redefined what it meant to be human in the vast expanse of the universe.
Through all these trials, the human spirit's resilience shone brightly. Never deterred by the enormity of their challenges, humans continued to push the boundaries of their known universe. Each colony, each ship, and each life represented a thread in the vast tapestry of human endeavor in space—a relentless march toward an uncertain but ceaselessly pursued future.
Chapter Two
Beginning of Entry…
StarDate: Redacted
Perspective: Noah Stark
Species: Human, Humanoid Mammalian Species, no tail.
Description: 5 feet 2 inches [1.6 meters] to 6 feet 9 inches [2.1 meters] average height. 185 lbs [84 kilograms] average weight.
Longevity: 70 to 500-year life expectancy with life extension medical tech.
Unique Trait: Resilience and Indomitable Will.
Vessel: ICV The Argonaut
Location: New Eden Star Cluster
Noah, his gaze locked on the viewport, watched the ancient ship float aimlessly among the asteroids. The ICV The Argonaut, under his skilled control, edged closer, enabling the deployment of EVA suits for inspection. Behind him, his mother, Gwendolyn Stark, and his sisters, Jane and Joan, prepared for the walk, their movements a blend of anticipation and professionalism. The ship, a silent relic of a bygone era, revealed no signs of life, a fact confirmed by both Shinra Hinaba and Serenity, the Argonaut's AI.
This discovery, hidden among the celestial debris, was a treasure. It wasn't just a ship; it was a gateway to unparalleled recognition for the Shinra-Stark-Daiwa Mining Group. While the Argonaut and its crew focused on this historical artifact, the rest of the fleet mined the surrounding asteroids, harvesting resources critical for the survival of distant colonies.
Hinaba's voice, laced with a mix of excitement and concern, snapped Noah back to the present. "Focus, Noah!" she said, her fist-bumping Noah's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "We've got a lot riding on bringing this ship in intact."
"I know, I know! Just relax, Hinaba! I've got this," Noah assured her, his attention riveted to the controls. His reputation as the fleet's top pilot wasn't unfounded, a fact even the skeptical private military contractors had come to acknowledge. Almost as if summoned by their conversation, the Director's face appeared on the communications screen next to Hinaba, an uncanny timing that suggested he was closely monitoring their progress.
It was then that Director Shinra Senzo's image flickered onto the communications screen, his timing almost too perfect. "What's your status, Noah?" he asked, a brief glance toward his daughter betraying his deeper concerns. Despite his reservations about Noah's closeness with Hinaba, he was willing to see where their partnership might lead, a stance influenced by discussions with Noah's father.
"We're in!" Gwendolyn's voice crackled through the comms, marking their successful approach. But their moment of triumph was shattered by a distress signal, a desperate call cutting through the static. Elaine and Beth Frost, Noah's cousins, scrambled to decipher it, their faces etched with growing alarm.
After a tense moment, Beth's face drained of color, but it was Eliane who eventually shared the grim news, which was dire: "An unknown force has attacked New Eden. Their defenses are falling…" The weight of their words hung heavy in the bridge. An unseen adversary had breached the colony's defenses, leaving them vulnerable. The realization that any hope of immediate assistance from the USSA or SFR was weeks or even a full stellar month away if at all, underscored the gravity of their situation. With the defense fleet in ruins, their only hope lay with the ICV Ishimura, and the hired PMC mercenary group onboard, initially engaged to fend off pirates, might now be their only hope against this new and formidable threat.
Silence enveloped the bridge as the magnitude of the crisis dawned on them. They were alone, far from help, facing a threat of unknown proportions. Noah felt a tightness in his jaw, anger and resolve mixing in equal measure. The prospect of what lay ahead was daunting, yet there was no room for doubt. They had to act swiftly.
Gwendolyn's voice broke the silence, her command clear. "We need to act, and quickly. Our priority is the safety of this crew and ensuring we can lend aid to New Eden. Noah, plot a course back. We have to prepare for what's to come."
Hinaba, her usual levity gone, nodded. "We have the Ishimura, and we're not defenseless. Let's make sure we're ready for whatever's out there."
As Noah adjusted the ship's course, a sense of determined urgency took hold. They were heading back, not just to confront a threat, but to defend their home, their people.
Director Senzo's voice crackled through the communication channel, his tone tinged with impatience yet seeking reassurance. "It would be great to know what the status of your progress is, Noah," he pressed, his words carrying a sense of urgency.
Noah could sense the weight of expectation in Director Senzo's inquiry. Despite the pressure, Noah remained composed, and his years of experience in the field allowed him to maintain a calm demeanor even in the face of such scrutiny. With a steady voice, he replied, "We're making steady progress, Director. I'll provide you with a detailed update shortly."

He paused as he focused on the holo-Feed in front of him and analyzed the available data in real-time thanks to his military-grade holo-NeuralSyne Implant. "We're adjusting course," Noah replied, his tone firm yet marked by an undercurrent of urgency. "Heading back to New Eden. We'll be ready."

In the silence that followed, a collective resolve fortified them. They were facing the unknown, as the derelict ship could bring untold bounty from within its hull.
Director Senzo's command carved through the static a clear mandate that reset their priorities. "Noah, before you depart the asteroid belt, I am dispatching a Porter Tug to commandeer the derelict ship. It's our top priority... Get that ship secure before you Skip Jump back to the ICV Argos-1. That is a Prime Directive!" His voice, a blend of authority and urgency, left no room for debate.
Noah, hands steady on the controls, glanced briefly at the communications panel. The weight of the directive pressed into him, a stark reminder of the stakes involved. He turned, catching the gaze of his crew, a silent signal that it was time to adapt their plan. The crew exchanged quick, significant glances, each understanding the gravity of the order. The derelict ship, an ancient relic floating among the asteroids, was not just another find—it was a piece of history, potentially holding untold knowledge and value. The directive from Director Shinra Senzo underscored its importance, not just to their mission but to the broader ambitions of the Shinra-Stark-Daiwa Mining Group.
Noah's mind went back over the meaning of what such an order entailed. Refusing to follow the directive would most certainly spell the end of his career. On one hand, he wanted to help those in need and who were under siege by an unknown force. The New Eden Star Cluster was not just a single system but a series of star systems in close proximity to one another. Noah and the rest of the ICV Argos-1 collective fleet were mining ore around Eden-159; currently, the planets were still being colonized, but in ten years, that would change. Our job was to mine ore to return to Eden-109, one of the 1,119 star systems in the New Eden Cluster.
The directive was clear: any new discovery in the outer rims of human space takes top priority above all other mandates, and the crew of The Argonaut was ready. Despite the risks, the potential rewards were too significant to ignore. As preparations for the operation began in earnest, the sense of unity and purpose among the crew was palpable. Each member knew their role and was prepared to execute it with precision. Noah Stark, standing firm at the helm, nodded sharply. "Understood, Director. We'll secure the derelict and rendezvous with the Argos-1 as planned." His voice was calm, a stark contrast to the racing thoughts behind his composed exterior. The task was daunting, yet his confidence in his crew's abilities was unshakeable.
Shinra Hinaba, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and concern, shifted in her search. Her fingers were already dancing across the console, setting up communication channels. Her role as the ship's specialist meant she was well-versed in the technicalities of such operations, and her confidence was discernible. "We'll need to coordinate with the tug. I can set up a direct comms link and guide their approach." Her voice, usually light and teasing in their private moments, now carried the professional edge of her role.
Gwendolyn Stark, the matriarch and seasoned explorer, nodded in agreement. "Time is of the essence. Let's secure that ship and make sure it's safe for the tug. We can't afford any delays." Her experience shone through, her demeanor calm yet commanding, rallying her children and the crew with a few choice words. "Everything is by the book. This ship could be a significant find for us," she stated, her voice firm.
Elaine, renowned for her cool demeanor under pressure, exchanged a glance of shared determination with Beth. With a nod, they moved to their stations, their movements precise and efficient, a testament to years of seamless coordination in the face of adversity.
Beth, known for her unwavering focus and quick thinking, shared a silent understanding with Elaine. Together, they pivoted to their respective stations, their synchronization seamless and instinctual. In the heart of chaos, their unity forged a stronghold of resolve, a beacon of stability amid the storm.
"We're on it, Mom," Elaine stated, her hands flying over her console, prepping the EVA suits for another walk.
Beth said decisively, "We'll be ready to assist the Tug team with anything they need." Beth nodded in agreement, both sisters moving to gather the necessary gear. Their well-honed skills in extravehicular activities made them indispensable for the task at hand.
Elaine intonated as she focused on the external sensors: "I'll keep an eye out for any debris or potential hazards for the tug. We don't want any surprises."
Grace Frost, the voice of strategy and foresight, considered the logistics. "Once the ship is secure, we'll need to plot a careful course back. The extra mass will affect our jump calculations."
Jennifer Stark, my youngest sister, a blend of youth and sharp intellect, nodded. Jennifer's hands moved to assist Shinra with the communications setup. Meanwhile, Jamie reviewed the ship's specs, ensuring they had all the data needed for a smooth operation. "Let's ensure we have all the data we need for a smooth operation," she said, her tone serious, betraying the gravity of their task.
Jamie Stark, also my youngest sister, focused on the ship's specs. Her hands moved deftly over the controls as she reviewed the data. "Absolutely," she chimed in, her voice steady as she continued her meticulous review. "We can't afford any oversights if we want this mission to succeed." Her words echoed Jennifer's sentiment, highlighting the importance of thorough preparation.
Jamie added, "I'll run a diagnostic on the derelict's structural integrity. We need to know it can withstand the jump."
Director Senzo's image flickered on the screen once more, a stern reminder of the urgency. "Even if you return now, the fleet can't make the FTL jump until all ships have returned to their hangars and docking bays. You have time to tug the derelict ship back to the ICV Argos-1."
Noah, absorbing every detail, finally responded. "Understood, Director. We'll secure the ship and ensure it's ready for the tug. Argonaut out." His voice, firm and confident, belied the racing thoughts of potential complications and the precision required for their new task.
The directive was clear, and the crew of the Argonaut was ready. Despite the risks, the potential rewards were too significant to ignore. As preparations for the operation began in earnest, the sense of unity and purpose among the crew was palpable. The bridge buzzed with activity, each member of the crew moving with purposeful speed. The Argonaut, once a silent observer among the stars, was now a hive of focused energy, ready to execute a directive that could very well shift the balance of their task. Each member knew their role and was prepared to execute it with precision. The arduous task of securing the derelict ship was directive from above; it was a challenge they were all eager to meet head-on.
"Let's get to work," Noah said, his gaze sweeping over his crew and his family. "We have a ship to secure." His statement, simple yet laden with unspoken responsibility, set them into motion, each person aware of the part they played in the intricate dance of space exploration and survival. Aboard the Argonaut, there was no room for doubt. Only action, determination, and the collective will to succeed in the face of the unknown. Then, they would make the FTL jump to Eden-109 to aid the colonists under siege.
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2024.05.15 03:52 Calledinthe90s The Mortgage, Part 3

I accidentally posted this to my username instead of my subreddit so here is is:
The Mortgage, Part 3
“Fuck,” I said as I drove to work in the old beater that only started on the fourth try because it could tell that I was pissed off. Ray’s case started at two o’clock, and I was heading to the office to get ready. “Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck. Fuck.” I’d wanted to tell Angela about Ray’s case, and how I was sorry that I hadn’t wanted to help him, but now I would, I would help him, and I would win, but then I’d gotten her all riled up on something else, something totally different, something way more serious.
My wife had given me a triple ultimatum: fix things up with her father, save idiot Ray from Sy-Co Corp., and somehow find a downpayment for the place she wanted to buy, in the little townhouse infill project in Bixity. It was like demanding I do a double bank shot, and then run over to the baseball diamond and hit a home run after first pointing to where it would land, Babe Ruth style.
Angela was mad at me, seriously mad. She’d slipped out that morning before I was even awake, sliding quietly past me on the couch. I didn’t realize she was gone until I heard the faint click of the front door closing. I jumped up, tripped over a blanket, and by the time I got up and my robe on, the elevator down the hall dinged, and Angela was gone before I opened the apartment door.
I swore at myself some more and pounded the steering wheel, “I fucked up,” I said, several times as I hit the wheel over and over again, until I accidentally honked it, and then looked all sheepish when the guy in front of me gave me the finger. I reached my office without further incident, but instead of walking in the front door, I went further down the hall, and into the office of Mark Cecil-Rowe, Barrister, LL.D, the man with the finest speaking voice I ever heard. When I entered his office I forgot for a minute about Angela and her father and sleeping on the couch the night before. I forget about everything, except the reason that I had come to Cecil-Rowe’s office: to stump him with a legal problem that I had solved, but which I was pretty sure he could not. In other words, I had come to preen and to brag and to boast. No one likes a showoff, and I had come to show off. I put my hand on the door and turned the knob. After a brief pause, I flung open the door.
“I’m a goddamn genius,” I said as I strolled into the older man’s office.
I noticed the echo of a hastily closed desk drawer hanging in the air. In Aaron’s office, where I rented space, a sudden act of concealment implied cocaine, but with Cecil-Rowe, the item in question was probably a mickey of vodka. I had the sense that he’d been drinking a bit before I arrived, but his powers of observation were unimpaired, and when he looked into my face, his expression showed sympathy, and actual pain.
“What have you done now?” he said, as set the papers before him to one side, and readied himself to hear my latest tale of legal brilliance.
“I’m a genius,” I said.
“Oh dear. Have a seat.”
“No really, I am. I’m a genius. I got this case that everyone says you can’t win, but I’m gonna win it, and when I do, I’m gonna look like a genius.” Cecil-Rowe gave me a sad indulgent smile.
“Whenever you tell me you’re a genius, I am always concerned about what is to follow. When you get wrapped up in what you call your genius, you tend to ignore the more mundane things we lawyers have to do to win a case. You think you’re going to win by genius alone.”
“Let me tell you why I’m a goddamn genius.” With effort I wiped the smug, self-satisfied expression that was on my face.
“Tell me why you’re a genius,” Cecil-Rowe said, “while I pour us a coffee.” He heaved his bulky body up from his chair and shuffled over to a counter. He picked up a carafe of hot coffee sitting on a hot plate, and poured two cups. “Speak,” he said, handing me one. I took a sip of the coffee, and told Cecil-Rowe the tale of Cousin Ray: his purchase of a franchise from Sy-Co Corp, its swift demise, the crash and burn in Commercial Court, the Minutes of Settlement, the seventy-one kilometer limit, and lastly, Sy-Co’s motion scheduled for two p.m. that very day, seeking an interim injunction shutting down Ray’s place.
Cecil-Rowe absorbed all this without the need to take notes. Instead, he sat back while he eyed me, taking the occasional sip of coffee, and smiling at the extravagant flourishes and details that brought out Ray’s story to full effect.
“Obviously Ray is dead on arrival,” he said, “but I guess this is the part where you tell me how you’re going to win.”
So I told him how I was going to win, but it didn’t have the desired effect. “I told ya I’m a genius, Mr. C,” cueing him to applaud, to admit what a brilliant lawyer I was. But there was no applause from Mark Cecil-Rowe. He looked at me without so much as a smile.
“You can cling to that genius notion as a consolation prize, after you get whipped this afternoon in court.”
“No way,” I said, “not a chance. I got this thing won hands down. I’m gonna kick ass in court today and--”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that, if you don’t have evidence?”
“What?”
“Evidence, Calledinthe9os. It’s what lawyers like me use to beat geniuses like you.”
“But I’m gonna win without proof. I don’t need proof. The argument I’m gonna make, relies on simple facts that are totally obvious, so the judge is gonna--” Cecil-Rowe stuck up his hand.
“Stop right there. I know what’s coming. You’re going to ask the judge to take *judicial notice.”
And he was right. That was exactly what I was going to do.
There are some things so obvious that you didn’t have to prove them, things that everyone knew. You didn’t have to prove that water froze at zero degrees and boiled at a hundred, or that Bixity was between West Bay and East Bay.
“You got it,” I said, “judicial notice all the way.”
“You’re going to tell the judge that the centerpiece of your argument, the lynchpin of your case is a fact known to pretty well everyone, and so you don’t need proof.”
“Exactly,” I said. Cecil-Rowe took another sip of his coffee, and left me hanging in the silence for a while before he spoke.
“If that’s true, then why does coming up with that argument make you a genius?”
“Oh, I said,”I didn’t think of that.”
“It is acceptable to rely on judicial notice for minor, ancillary points. But you never should walk into court thinking that the court will take judicial notice of your entire defence. It’s just too risky.”
“But how am I going to rustle up a witness in time for this afternoon?”
“Worry about that after you leave my office. I can’t help you with that. What I want to know, is why you’re doing this at the last minute.”
“What makes you think I’m doing this at the last minute?”
“Because you never would have resorted to judicial notice if you were properly prepared. If you’d opened this case a bit earlier, you’ve have everything lined up. But you got to work on it late, and so you want to rely on judicial notice. You’ve messed up, Calledinthe90s, and you know what my rule is when you mess up.” Cecil-Rowe didn’t extend aid to me, until I admitted the error of my ways. It was infuriating, but he was inflexible. So I fessed up.
“My idiot cousin Ray’s been trying to retain me for almost two weeks, but I was putting him off because I was mad at him. So now my wife’s mad at me, and if I don’t win this case, I’m dead. Plus her dad’s mad at me too and --” My brain roared into overdrive, a mess of family and law and fear, and at the centre of it, thoughts of Angela’s anger and her father. My mind took off, and then came to an instant halt at a helpful destination.
“Yes?” Cecil-Rowe said.
“Sorry. I just realized how to solve the evidence problem. Look, can I ask you about the thing I actually came here to ask you about?”
“You have a problem that’s worse than having no evidence? What could be worse than -- oh. You don’t have a retainer. Your client doesn't have any money.”
“Exactly. How do I get paid? That’s the problem.” I explained that Ray had no money, as in none, and that if he did have money, he wouldn’t spend it on me. Instead, he’d go back downtown and throw his cash at some big firm, who would take on his case, and proceed to lose it in a calm, careful, sober manner, ending in a reporting letter to Ray telling him that he’d lost.
“Now that’s a problem I can solve,” Cecil-Rowe said.
“Really? ‘Cause I can’t see a way around it. I think I’m gonna have to do this for free, and that really pisses me off.” Cecil-Rowe shook his head.
“You may or may not get paid, but you can set things up so that if you win, you’ll win pretty good.”
“How? Ray’s a deadbeat. Tapped out.”
“But is he desperate?”
“Totally. The first time he failed, he lost his own money, but if he goes under this time, he’s taking family money with him, and he’ll be the black sheep forever.”
“And he’s using family to emotionally blackmail you into helping him?’
“Like no shit. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I’m like a goddamn slave, being forced to work for free.”
“Never fear, young apprentice. I have just the thing in mind.” He reached into a drawer, and pulled out a form. “Fill in the blanks, and have him sign.”
I looked it over, and saw that the document was a retainer agreement. I whistled. “Holy shit. If he signs this, he’s almost my slave.”
“Close, but not quite” Cecil-Rowe said, “the Latin term for this is "contractus pro venditione animae"”. It’s the ultimate retainer agreement. Once Ray signs that, you own any cause of action he has against the person suing him. You can settle the case on any terms you like, and you get to keep whatever proceeds there are.” Cecil-Rowe placed the folder back in a drawer, and from his manner you could tell that the interview was over.
“Awesome, Mr. C. I’ll call you from Commercial Court when we’re done.”
“Commercial Court?” he said.
“Yeah, Commercial Court.”
“This just keeps getting worse. Take notes, Calledinthe90s, while I school you on Commercial Court. Commercial Court is a jungle, and without preparation, you’ll get savaged.”
“That’s what happened to Ray when--”
“Take notes, young apprentice,” he said, tossing me a pad and a pen. He started to lecture, and I took notes that I have with me to this day, in a safe deposit box downstairs in the vault at Mega Bank Main Branch.
* * *
By the time Cecil-Rowe finished schooling me, it was close to ten, and the case started at two. I didn’t have much time. I ran down the hall to my office, and called Ray’s restaurant. No answer. Then I called Ray’s house. I expected to get Ray’s wife, but the man himself answered.
“You’re not at work. Why aren’t you at work?”
“Sy-Co Corp served all my employees with a cease and desist letter. They all got scared and took off. The place is shut down.”
“You gotta fax machine at home?” He did, and asked why.
“I’m taking your case, but only if you sign the paper I’m about to send and fax it back.” I sent the fax, and five minutes later it came back signed, and it was official: Ray had sold me his legal soul.
I went out to the parking lot, got into my beater and drove fast. In less than thirty minutes I reached my destination. I knocked on the door, and when it opened, my diminutive mother-in-law poked out her head. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said.
“Sorry, Mrs. M, but I’m in a super hurry. I gotta rush to get to court to help Ray. But first, I gotta speak to Dr. M.”
“He’s not here,” she said.
“Not here?”
“He’s on his way to his bridge game. He left just a few minutes ago.”
“Where’s the club?”
“He’s walking there,” she said, and pointed down the street.
“Thanks.” I got into my car and headed where Mrs. M had pointed, passing big houses and new project with an “Opening Soon” sign. And walking past it was the figure of Dr. M.
“Hey, Dr. M,” I called out the window. He stopped and looked around, startled. But he didn’t see me, not at first.
“It’s me, Dr. M. Me, Calledin90s.” He leaned forward as if to see me better. I got out of the car.
“Is something wrong with Angela? Or the baby?”
“No, no not at all, sorry to scare you, it’s nothing like that. I need your help.”
“Oh.” He started walking again, and now it was my turn to be a bit stunned, watching my father-in-law walk away from me. I caught up with him in a few quick strides.
“Listen, I really need your help.”
“And I really need to get to a bridge game.”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Ray.” That brought him to a halt. He turned to me, angrier even than he’d been the night before.
“Did you drive all the way out here just to make fun of me? To remind me of how you won, distracting me with nonsense about Ray’s case?”
“I mean it,” I said, “I can win Ray’s case. I can prove it in a few words.”
“Prove it, then.” So I did. I spoke words, only a few words, but they were the right words to speak to Dr. M, for the words I spoke were in his language, words that he understood perfectly.
“I understand,” he said, “you’ve come to boast some more, to prove that you were right after all.”
“I want to win Ray’s case, but I don’t have any proof of what I’m saying.”
“You don’t need to prove that two plus two is four.”
“This, I gotta prove, and I need you to help me prove it. I need you to come to court with me, as my witness.”
“I can’t do that. I didn’t witness anything.”
“As my witness. My expert witness.” Unlike a normal witness, an expert witness can give an opinion. An expert is there not to advocate, I explained to Dr. M but to instruct, to teach.
“My bridge partner won’t be very happy,” he said.
“But Ray will, and so will Mrs. M and Angela and--”
“Very well. Do you have a cell phone? We can call the bridge club from my car.”
* * *
We were on the highway getting close to the downtown exit, when my wife called my cell phone. Back then cell phone service was super expensive and my wife only used it for emergencies. Or when she was really angry. I picked up the phone, wondering which it would be.
“I’m so happy that you made things up with my father,” she said.
“How did you know?”
“My mother called. She says you took him with you, that you went out together.”
“He’s with me right now,” I said.
“Where are you going?”
“To court. Going to court to win Ray’s case for him.”
“And you brought my father with you to watch?” She was so happy, I could hear in her voice that she was smiling. “That’s a great way to bond with him, Calledinthe90s. Look, I’m sorry I got so mad at you earlier, I really am. My dad’s a bit too sensitive and--”
“Sorry, Angela, your dad’s not coming to watch me.”
“Why is he with you, then?”
“He’s my witness,” I said.
“What?”
“His expert witness,” Dr. M said, loudly enough for Angela to hear.
My wife’s anger exploded into the phone. She wanted to know how I could expose her elderly, vulnerable father to the stress of a court case. I tried to tell her how I needed him, how there was literally no one else I could turn to, that her father was an expert, a true expert, and the judge was legally bound to believe him, but Angela heard none of this.
“Look,’ I said, “I promise you that--” And then I lowered the phone and pushed the red button, terminating the call. I’d learned that the best way to hang up on someone, was to do it when I was doing the talking. That way it looked like the call had dropped.
“I’m going to steal that move,” Dr. M said.
We rolled into the parking lot. I grabbed the cloth bag out of the back of my car, the bag that held my law robes and shirt and tabs, plus the other stuff I needed for court. It was one-thirty, still thirty minutes to go, not a lot of time to get robed and ready for court. It was just past one-forty five when I, with Dr. M in tow, opened the door to a courtroom on the eighth floor of an old insurance building that had been converted into a courthouse, the home of Commercial Court.
“Commercial Court is an exclusive club,” Cecil-Rowe had explained to me earlier that day, “the legal playground of the rich and powerful. They’ll know instantly that you’re not one of them.” And he was right. It was clear from the moment I walked in that I did not belong, for I was the only lawyer in robes. Everyone else was wearing a suit, and not some cheap thing off the rack like I wore.
There were a half-dozen lawyers present, and after they saw me, they exchanged knowing looks about the stranger amongst them. I ignored them, and walked up to the Registrar. I told him the case I was on, and he signed me in.
“First time in Commercial Court?” he said, eyeing my robes. “You know you don’t have to be robed in Commercial Court.” In other Superior Courts, you always had to bring your robes and get all dressed up. But Commercial Court had its own set of rules, and in the court for rich people, their lawyers did not have to wear robes.
“You’re here on the Sy-Co case?” a young woman asked. She was a junior like me, give a year or two either way. She was dressed in the finest downtown counsel fashion, some designer thing that Angela would know if she saw it.
“Just got retained,” I said.
“You know there’s no adjournments, right? We don’t do adjournments in Commercial Court. I’m just trying to be helpful, because I don’t think you've been here before. You know you don’t have to be robed, right?
“So I heard.”
“So where’s your material? You haven’t served anything, so how do you plan to argue your case?”
“I gotta witness,” I said.
She smiled. “There’s no viva voce evidence, either. Affidavit only.”
“We’ll see what the judge says.” There was a knock from the other side of the door to the judge’s chambers, and then the man himself entered.
I was amazed to see that even the judge wasn’t wearing a robe; instead, he was wearing a light coloured suit and a bright blue bow tie. He was dressed as good as the lawyers, all part of the downtown Commercial Court club, the playground of the richest and most powerful corporations in the City.
“Commercial Court’s not like other courts,” Cecil-Rowe told me earlier that day, explaining that most cases were over in fifteen minutes or less. A plaintiff showed up with some papers, and had a short consultation with the judge. The judge signed an order granting an injunction, or taking away a man’s business, or freezing his money. Commercial Court is where you went to get quick and simple court orders that eviscerated your opponent before the case even got going.
Defendants would appear sometimes in Commercial Court, Cecil-Rowe explained, but it was usually their last time up. Defendants always died a quick death in Commercial Court.
The judge took his seat, and then looked over the lawyers before him. His eyes moved along, and then stopped when they reached me, the one lawyer who was not like the others.
“You don’t need robes in Commercial Court,” the judge said to me.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” I said.
“What case are you on?”
I told him.
“He’s filed no responding materials,” my opponent said, “nothing at all.”
“I’m just vetting the list,” the judge said, “I’ll circle back to you two in a few minutes.” I listend while the judge vetted the rest of the afternoon list: a Mareva, plus a Norwich order, with counsel on those cases sent away in a matter of minutes.
Now the courtroom was almost empty, just the judge, two lawyers, the registrar and my star witness and father-in-law, Dr. M, who sat in the back of the courtroom dressed in an old business suit, put on hastily at his place two hours earlier, when I urged him to hurry it up, to not waste so much time on picking a suit.
“Back to you,” the judge said, addressing my opponent, “I thought this was an uncontested matter. That’s what your confirmation sheet said.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honour, but I didn’t know until I got here that the case was defended.”
“I got retained at the last minute,” I said, “barely three hours ago, the day after I read the papers. But I’m ready to go, ready to argue the case on the merits, so long as you grant me an indulgence, and let me call my witness, to let him testify in person instead of by affidavit, there being no time for me to draft anything.”
Opposing counsel was on her feet. “That’s not how things are done in Commercial Court,” she said, “or any court that I know of, for that matter. My friend (that’s what they make lawyers call each other in court, ‘my friend,’ even though you might hate the other guy’s guts),” the lawyer said, “my friend should have served his responding materials and filed them with the court. Instead, he’s taken us totally by surprise.”
“I’m sorry my friend is surprised by opposition,” I said, “but then consider, it’s my client’s livelihood that’s at stake. If my friend gets her injunction, Ray Telewu’s business is dead, and he loses everything. So yes, my client opposes the injunction, and yes, I’d like to call evidence.”
The judge didn’t consult the papers before him nor the books, but instead, he looked up at the big white clock on the courtroom wall. Its hands said two-fifteen.
“How long will your witness take, counsel?”
“In chief, ten minutes.” I’d practiced with Dr. M on the way in, and I was pretty sure he could do it in five, but I gave him a bit of extra time, just in case.
“We’ve got about two hours,” the judge said, “but I want to be fair to you and your client. Let’s take a fifteen minute recess so you can get instructions. Either we go ahead today with viva voce evidence, or we adjourn, and that will give Calledinthe90s time to file responding materials.”
When everyone came back, the junior’s boss was there, Senior Counsel, a heavy weight, one of those big guys downtown. Plus they brought this guy from Sy-Co Corp, the head of some bullshit division, with some bullshit title, Head of whatever, so that’s the title I’ll give him here. He was The Head. He was the man, the big cheese, the signer of the affidavit on which Sy-Co relied that day.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked Senior Counsel.
He stared at me, all lean and steel grey, looking every inch the hard hitting lawyer that commanded the biggest fees. “If you’re calling a live witness, then so can we. The Head will give evidence today, in advance of your client, so that the judge hears it from him first.” His junior smirked at me, and the two of them sat down, delighted that they’d thought of a way to one up me.
Except that they’d done it by exposing their client to cross-examination. The judge came in, allowed the Head to testify, and when he was done, I stood up.
“Just a few questions,” I said. Senior Counsel was stunned for an instant, and then he stood.
“This serves no purpose, Your Honour. The witness has confirmed the simple facts of his affidavit, and there’s no disputing it. Ray Telewu opened a restaurant less than seventy-one kilometres from Bixity City Hall, and that’s in breach of the Minutes of Settlement he signed.”
I did not bother to respond. Instead, I just stood, and I started to ask questions.
“Have a look at that map in your affidavit,” I said, and he did. I picked up my copy, and tore the map out of it. I passed it up to him.
“What do you notice about this map?”
“That it’s accurate,” the Head said, repeating his evidence in chief, amplifying it, talking about how the map contained perfect measurement.
“You will notice that the map is flat,” I said, laying it on the witness box before him.
“Of course it’s flat. That’s what maps are. Maps are flat.”
“But the earth is round,” I said, “or more properly, a sphere.” Senior Counsel was on his feet in an instant.
“What difference does that make?” he said.
“What you’ll hear from my expert witness, is that a flat map cannot accurately show Earth’s curves. A flat map distorts distances, and in this case, reduces them.”
“But that can’t be by very much.”
“In this case, by just over twenty meters,” Dr. M said from the back of the court.
“That’s my expert witness, the esteemed Dr. M.” I didn’t actually say Dr. M. Instead, I said his real name. But I’m not going to use the real names of my family here, so I’ll just keep calling him Dr. M. “Dr. M was a professor of Physics at the University of Bixity for almost thirty years. He has published numerous papers on particle physics, and is the first Canadian winner of the Wolf Prize for physics.”

* * *

It went downhill after that for Sy-Co Corp. My father-in-law testified, explaining in simple language, language that even a child could understand, that the Earth was a sphere, that the shortest distance between two points on Earth was a curve, not a straight line. He summarized his calculations in plain English, dumbing down the math, so that everyone present imagined, if only for the moment, that they shared his understanding of a difficult mathematical equation.
Senior Counsel tried to cross-examine Dr. M, but it did not go well, my father-in-law indulging him, gently chiding him, continuing his explanations until the lawyer sat down, defeated by Dr. M’s mastery of the subject,his own lack of preparation and his inability to improvise. When counsel said that he had no further questions, the judge addressed us all.
“I’m not going to reserve, and I don’t think I need to tell everyone why. I think it will take about a minute for me to write a decision saying that the Earth is not flat. I’ll give you some more time after that, but after fifteen minutes, I”ll be back to render my decision.” He rose, everyone bowed, and he disappeared behind the door to judge’s chambers.
I pulled a piece of paper out of my file, and slammed it on the desk before Senior Counsel and his junior. “Fill in the blanks, and sign,” I said.
Dr. M’s head shot up at the commotion, and he shuffled over to see what was going on.
“What’s this?” Senior Counsel said, picking up the paper I gave him..
“Minutes of Settlement. You fill in a number, a big number, for the costs you gotta pay me. Your client signs, and then we’re done.” Senior Counsel opened his mouth to bargain, but I overrode him.
“You know your client’s going to lose; the judge made that obvious. Hurry up if you want to settle; we don’t have much time.”
At the end of most Canadian court cases, the loser has to pay at least part of the winner’s legal fees. That’s the way it’s been since forever, and I think it’s a good rule. Sy-Co Corp had lost, so it had to pay a good chunk of Ray’s costs, and Ray’s costs were somewhere between whatever bullshit figure I claimed they were, and where they actually ought to be. Senior Counsel took the paper over to his client. There was a brief discussion, and then they came back, with the form signed, and a number written in the blank space.
I’ll give it to Sy-Co Corp and their lawyer. It wasn’t a bullshit number, a low ball number. They gave me a real number, a number more like something I’d actually accept, a number that made sense to pay me in costs, in light of the success I’d had, and how I got it. It was a respectful number, a common sense number, and I appreciated it an awful lot.
I tossed the paper back at them.
“Add a zero,” I said, continuing on when Senior Counsel blanched, and his junior retreated a step. “I know what’s going on here. Your client sold mine a bullshit franchise, one with a history of failing.” The franchise had opened up again under a new owner not long after Ray had lost it and then it promptly failed again. Like I said at the start of this story, it’s an old story. It’s how some franchise companies make money. “Your client makes more money selling bullshit franchises doomed to fail, then it does from the honest ones that make money. So add a zero to that number, or Ray’s gonna sue you, class action and all that, for all the people you’ve fucked.”
The Head stepped forward from the benches and spoke to me.
“We get threats like that all the time, but no one follows through. They don’t have the money to fight us, and neither does your client. So go ahead and sue.”
“It’s true that Ray doesn’t have jack shit,” I said, “not a pot to piss in, but he’s my cousin, Ray is, and even if he doesn’t have money, he’s got me. Ray’s family, and for Ray, I’ll sue you guys for free. Hell, I’ll even pay the expenses. Plus I’m gonna put a jury notice in, too, come to think of it, ‘cause juries--”
Senior Counsel cut me off, and moved his client to the back of the courtroom. There was a brief discussion, and then they came back. I watched as Senior Counsel wrote a single digit on the Minutes, a zero, written right where I wanted it.
“You’ll have to initial the change,” I said to the Head of Sy-C0, and it gave me great satisfaction to watch him sign.
“Don’t forget,” I said the moment his pen stopped moving, “for the settlement to be valid, I need to get the money today. Right now.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” the Head said.
“Not if you want the settlement to stay in place. I’ll follow you back to your office, and you can put a cheque in my hands.”

* * *

“What’s this?” my wife said when I entered the apartment later that day, after I’d driven Dr. M home, stopping first at a local pub for beers.
“It’s an absurdly expensive bunch of flowers,” I said, “although no flowers, however beautiful, however expensive, could expiate my--”
She took the flowers, and gave a kiss.
“My mom called. She told me what happened. You fixed things with my dad.”
“Yup,” I said. I had certainly done that. I’d made Dr. M a professor again, if only for a few minutes. Not only a professor, but an expert witness. The judge had declared him an expert in plain terms and Dr.M had beamed when he’d heard those words.
“And you won Ray’s case, too. But my mom didn’t know how, and I don’t know how you did it either.”
“I’ll tell you over dinner tonight,” I said.
“But we agreed no more dinners out; we have to save money, now that a baby’s coming.”
I passed her the envelope that I’d received a few hours before. She opened it, and took out a cheque, a cheque drawn up for an amount I specified, made payable to Mr. and Mrs. Calledinthe90s.
The moment I got that cheque, all I could think about was how my wife would react when I put it into her hands. I could not wait to see her eyes bulge, to hear her voice say “oh my god,” to hear her laugh.
She did none of these things. Instead, she cried.
“Does this mean we can buy a house?” The money wouldn’t be enough to buy a house, not nowadays, with prices being so crazy. But things were different back then in the 90s. Sure, the internet was barely a thing and cell phones were super expensive and a lot of things sucked, but I’ll give the nineties one thing: houses were cheap.
“I think so,” I said.

submitted by Calledinthe90s to Calledinthe90s [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:34 Helpful-Ear-5597 AITAH for having expectations for my roommate?

I (22m) live with my cousin (22m). I had moved out since I was 20 into my own house that my dad bought my sister which evidently been handed down to me. My father paid off the house so all he gave me to worry about are the utility bills. The bills comes out to be 300 a month. I handle all the bills while my cousin just sends me through Zelle his portion. Other than that we share the cost of everything pretty” fairly”. I usually am the one to tell my cousin when he should be buying stuff like the necessities like toilet paper, paper towels, toilet bowl cleaners, etc. whenever he goes shopping, it’s only for what he thinks the house needs (usually only foods)
Routine: My cousin works 40 hours a week with some days of the week he may work 12 hours. He enters at 2pm and gets home anywhere between 10:30-2am. His routine is pretty much, wake up at 12pm, take a shower, get ready, get to work by 2am (only a 30 min commute due to traffic). When he gets home, he would pretty much smoke weed, play video games and finish off his night watching tv. Rinse and repeat every single day. He claims he can’t get adequate sleep.
Kitchen/ dishes issue: When it comes to chores, he is very poor when it comes to it. We had a routine where we would switch on and off who does the dishes by who did them last. Whenever I have dishes that I need to do, I tend to do all of them and clean the sink itself as well but when it’s his turn, he only does whatever he can in that free time being 1 sink and/or leave all the pots and pans left for me.(I have 2 sinks) we had multiple discussions where the dishes are becoming a problem because they pile up pretty bad to where they start to smell. He told me to let’s no longer do the “your turn for the dishes strategy” but just do the dishes whenever we can. Since last month, I had done the dishes 80% of the time as he never did them after he got out of work. It’s been dreadful as I know I am picking up the slack whenever he is not doing his 50%. Let me inform you guys that he is the type of person to leave the drain hole without the middle piece to prevent food from going down the drain because “it was clogging the sink”. There was a time where I told him that I will be cleaning out the fridge to which I did while he did the dishes and he left some for tomorrow to which it never got cleaned by him but instead piled on until the following week. I had told him 2 weeks ago that if he can clean the stove as there is buildup of grease/ oil and grime. As well as the microwave to which he agreed but he never cleaned the microwave and he did clean the stove but never washed / dried the shiny trim that is removable from the sink. Instead what he did was put it in the sink and left it there for 3 days until I told him to clean what he left.
Smoking Issue: Overall he is a person that has some respect for the house but he is living too comfortable I would say and is using my kindness to an advantage. I used to have a roommate which would throw get togethers every week or so and whenever she has multiple people over, she would feel like to smoke a cigarette inside the house without asking me. She didn’t do this on a daily basis but only whenever there are people in a party setting. I told my cousin to not do this and which he agreed. Soon after him moving in, he would smoke a blunt in his room which would make the house smell like weed and would occasionally creep into my room through the vents. I told him to stop smoking blunts / joints as it makes the entire house smell which he understood and began to smoke bongs only. I would say smoking a bong is 100x better than joints. Smells a bit but not where I am constantly thinking about it. As long as it does not smell like weed while I’m in the bathroom, room, living room, or kitchen.
Lawn: It’s starting to get warmer and I have paid 80 bucks for spring cleaning work from this landscaper and mentioned it to my cousin that we should go half and half. He disagreed and said we should work on it ourselves. I didn’t care about spending 80 bucks so I bought it and told him that I don’t expect him to pay half to just consider it me doing my turn in a way. Well it began to grow after a week pretty quickly and needed a trim again. Instead of me just tellling him “hey it needs a cut” I just cut it myself again after I worked 8 hours, a 10-6. After that I told him to cut it in 1-2 weeks and which he said okay but when it was getting closer to 2 weeks, he couldn’t cut the lawn as it began to rain and it was pushed back to 3 weeks. when he was cutting the lawn, he took separate days to cut the back and front and when he was cutting the back, he had asked me to buy a rack as there was a lot of grass ontop of the lawn and which I did. He ended up making me rack the lawn as we went out randomly to a bar that night. The lawn is pretty big, so I only did 30% and which he never finished the job. The next week being this past week, he had went outside to cut the grass as he just wants me and him to cut the grass as we go whenever one of us has the chance. That day we had a lot of dishes to do and the grass I had the ability to mow the next day as I had the day off. Overall I just am getting frustrated with the change of dynamics of how things were getting done as now it just seems like he wants to find someway of not doing work for a week or 2 consecutively rather than staying on a planned schedule.
Bathroom: The bathroom has been minor but yet just frustrating as whenever I use the bathroom, I always set up a new roll of toilet paper when I finish it into the holder and when I am drying my hands off with the hand towel, I hang it up neatly back where I had it placed. Now when it comes to my cousin, he does things differently. When he finishes the toilet paper roll, he leaves the old one in the holder and grabs a new one and leaves it infront of the toilet where I have a shelf at. I told him multiple times to just put the toilet paper roll in the holder where it belongs and he agreed but still ignored me. Finally after he lived there since October of 2023, he finally did it as of recently. Just once. When he washes his hands, he leaves the hand towel on the table when he can just put the hand towel up normally keeping the bathroom as it possibly can. Another thing which I take blame for my part is the leaving the clothes in the bathroom. There is a little space under the sink that can fit a laundry basket for dirty clothes and I use that area for my clothes after I finish the shower. It never sticks out or anything as I push it far back as possible. Whenever my roommate finishes the shower, he leaves his clothes in the bathroom maybe once every week being socks, shorts, underwear, socks by the toilet, by the sink, on the shelves. I take part blame as I do that as well. Not really something I complain about as whenever I see it, I just grab them and throw them in his room.
Tip of the iceberg: I had told my cousin to do a deep clean of the bathroom, while I clean up the kitchen and living room. I believed it was fair as he has not done a deep clean of the bathroom yet while me and my girlfriend (she does not live in my house, just sleeps here for a few days in a row) has cleaned it once each. We scrub the tub, walls, sweep the floor, mop the floor, clean the sink table and wipe down the mirrors. I had told him Sunday to do it and he told me he was going to do it next weekend with no given reason. I told him to do it whenever he has free time as it only takes about an hour and that he has no other chores as I made a bet with him to which I lost and have to do the dishes for the next 2 months (he claimed that I don’t have to follow through with that bet). I am frustrated because why can’t he complete it within the week? The bathroom is not that hard to clean as it just involves scrubbing and personally the tub is very disgusting. I wonder how did he not just want to be proactive. I personally wanted to wait until he decided to clean it but I waited over a month having the expectation that he wanted to clean it. I remember I bought the curtains for it and I know it will have to be replaced but personally I already know if I tell him to replace it, I would feel cheap and just feel guilty that I don’t want to buy the replacement. To me it’s just the principle of things that if I bought the first one, he buys the next and the cycle continues. He told me that he wants to hold the “big chores” for the weekend but I told him that I have the rest of the chores covered as I already partly cleaned the basement (we had a table full of clothes that we didn’t know what to do.) I cleaned the kitchen, and the living room. All he really had to do was fold his clothes and that’s it. I basically told him that that’s really his only chore that he has. I feel like a butthole just for me to tell him as soon as he can but I know he can wake up early being at 10am to clean it or something and go to work after or when he gets home from work to do work around the house instead of smoking pot and playing video games. If he couldn’t do the chore because of work then he could tell me but instead his immediate answer was “I’ll do them next weekend” not a “I’ll try before the weekend but it may end up being done at that time”. Am I just nitpicking? Should I be easier on him as he never lived alone? I feel like I have to tell him to do stuff around the house.

submitted by Helpful-Ear-5597 to AITAH [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:17 CoriiKayy AITA for being upset my bf told me his family will always come first?

Okay I know how this sounds, but hear me out first. Buckle in it’s gonna be a long one. My boyfriend, R (23M) and I, CK (24F) been together a little over a year and a half although it certainly hasn’t always been easy, we get along pretty well. My only complaint is that he is nice, too nice. He always bends over backwards for people who don’t deserve it AKA, his family.
My boyfriend is in college, drives a beater car, and works part time and a convenience shop, so to say he is broke is kind of an understatement. That doesn’t matter to me though, because I love him madly. This relationship is the most constructive and healthy connection I have ever been in. Anyway, we both live at home because rent prices, among other things are way too expensive. My boyfriend loves his family. It’s one of the qualities that really attracted me to him, because I do not have a good relationship with my own family. Although it was endearing at the start, I now think they are taking advantage of him.
He is a personal chauffeur to his unappreciative little sister. He is constantly cutting our time short to go take her to hair appointments that he pays for, work, school, shopping, and anywhere else she wants to go without any notice for FREE. I don’t think I have ever heard her say thank you to him. Half of the time we are together when she calls him so he has to use my car to take her places. More of the same with his parents, when they call he magically transforms into an InstaCart shopper or a DoorDasher before my eyes (cue eye roll.) They also think we spend too much time together, so they have recently enacted a curfew which I think is outrageous considering he is a 23 year old MAN and he does so much for them. All they do is command him to do things, and he does it no questions asked.
His birthday was last week right before Mother’s Day. Unsurprisingly, no one in his household bought him a present for his birthday. I, of course, got him a gift and a mini cake for his birthday to make him feel special and appreciated since he does a lot for me and my son. He took it home and placed in the fridge and jokingly said “I hope no one eats it.” When he said that it absolutely ticked me off, and of course a day later before he could even have a piece, they demolished it. I know it may seems minor but, his family has a habit of taking things from him without permission. For context, one Christmas I bought him a set of cologne and planned the two of us a trip for new years. We had an amazing time together and it really solidified that this is what I wanted in a relationship. Long story short, we came back from our trip, he went into his room to see that the very expensive cologne I bought him was now missing. My heart sank when he told me this. I told him straight up he needs to stand up for himself and if this continues he is allowing them to continue this behavior. But as always he turned it into a joke.
Anyway, we had plans today. We were both off work, which is rare. We haven’t really had much time to celebrate his birthday from last week because like I said previously he works at a convenience store and has crazy hours, while I work a 9-5 as well as caring for my son who is in Pre-K. We have both been raving about a posh little restaurant downtown that we have wanted to go to for quite some time now. I wanted to make a reservation for lunch because I knew for sure his sister and my son would be in school, so we were completely free for a little while. I mean it sounds like it would all work out right? WRONG. It never does.
His sister typically gets out of school at 3:30 PM then she goes home to get dressed for work and needs to be dropped off there around 4:00-5:00 PM. Keeping this in mind I set our reservation for 12:30 PM. Anyway we get there a bit late, but we were still able to be seated and our lunch went well. We were near a mall with time to spare, so we decided we would stop by to window shop. We walked around for a bit and the time flies by. Suddenly it was 2:30 PM his sister goes absolutely crazy and blows his phone completely up. I asked him was everything okay and did we need to leave since we drove my car there together. He insisted everything was fine and we continued our shopping. I curiously asked him what time he planned to leave and he said we would go at 3:00 which was fine with me.
We lost track of time and we ended up leaving later than intended at about 3:15 PM, but we were only about 20 minutes away and we wouldn’t have her waiting very long. As we’re driving she is still going crazy blowing his phone up constantly asking where he was as he was driving. I was getting annoyed because we were going to go and get her in my car, when she’s so unappreciative of her brother and his efforts to keep her happy and to help her. I held my tongue though because I could hear the agitation increase within his voice as they spoke and I felt as if I would only make things worse. My boyfriend is very sweet and it isn’t often that he gets angry, so she was really pushing his buttons.
She called him a whopping 10 times during a 20 minute drive, and at one point they had a screaming match on the phone and he told her, “You knew I was busy and not at home, why didn’t you ask one of our parents to get you if you wanted to be picked up without having to wait?” Their house is only 8 minutes away from the school so I was beyond ticked off and annoyed at this point. When we finally arrived at her school admittedly a little late, she is nowhere to be found. We waited for a while for her and he called to see where she was, apparently she caught a ride from a friend to be dropped off at her aunts house. The rage I felt in that moment was unparalleled. If they could take you to your aunts house why didn’t they take you home?!
Anyway within the commotion I asked him to swing by my son's school so we could pick him up. I then asked him which one would “come first” purely referring to the geographic location of each person considering I didn’t want him to waste any more of my own gas. I guess I used the wrong choice of words.
He replied to me with something that stung me down to the core. He said, “My sister and my family will always come first.” He saw the surprised and hurt look on my face and quickly added, “but this is your car we can go get him first.” I was taken aback by that statement. I understand that family is blood related, but these people do not respect your time, privacy, hell even your freedom. After he said that the rest of the car ride was a blur and I truly felt like I was overreacting at first. We planned to take my son to the park after we dropped his sister off but I ended up telling him I didn’t feel well and we had to cancel. I’m at a loss here guys. Do I have any right to feel hurt by what he said to me? I mean this is the man I planned on creating a family with, becoming old with. Now I’m not so sure. Help me out here and lmk if I am the A-Hole.

submitted by CoriiKayy to AITAH [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:09 Hour-Opportunity3048 Godwyn, Mohg, Morgott and the Secret He Conceals

Beginnings, I’m terrible at them. But you know what? What’s the beginning of a person? Parents. Hoarah Loux, founder and leader of the Crucible Knights. A true champion of the Crucible. Warrior King of the Golden Lineage. Husband of Marika, a less-than-true God risen from the Crucible. Marika, possessor of the Elden Ring, founder of the previous order, the Golden Order (current order is Golden Order Fundamentalism, not that this but is at all relevant to the point and thus can be entirely ignored, it’s the next paragraph that actually begins the stuff.. I guess). A trickster god, veil wielder, bestower of blessings.
Three children are known to have been born from the joining of these two great beings. One, Godwyn, lay half dead beneath the Lands Between. Another, Mohg, guards a giant, withered, living but lifeless body beneath the Lands Between. Third, Morgot, bears the frightful visage of the omen as he raises phantom and barrier to hide the greatest secret of the Lands Between.
It is this third child, Morgott, twin of Mohg, who hides the greatest secret of the Lands Between. Once, Morgott was to be called the Veiled Monarch but this, it seems, was a little too obvious. Grace-Given then. He was said to be born an omen along with his twin, Mohg. He pulled from himself his cursed omen blood and made it into a sword. His devotion to the Erdtree was supposedly never rewarded and yet he stands as King of Leyndell, de factor head of the Golden Order, and was seemingly given grace.
He creates a phantom of himself to guard the decrepit Godrick under the name Margit, deploys the Nights Cavalry, controls and corrupts a commoner to spook us away from the Capitol, raises a phantom of Godfrey, raises a phantom of Mohg, raises a barrier to prevent passage to Deeproot Depths, raises a barrier to prevent passage to the Mountaintops of the Giants.
Then we kick Morgott’s actual butt and his life’s work comes to an end. The truth is freed from obscurity. The first truth, Morgott is not an omen. His body shows no sign of horns, it is just withered and decayed, aged beyond the limits of natural life. How could this be? The omen image was either an illusion or the curse just ended when he died. I’ll cancel out the second one first, we don’t see this with other omen and while he could be a special case, I don’t think this is what happened.
So, his omen appearance was an illusion. But when was the illusion made? Perhaps, when Morgott’s purged his omen blood he was freed from the curse, this could also be when he was made Grace-Given. Then, to show a lack of resentment, he donned a mimic-veil or other similar Marika related magic to honor his cursed origin. But no traces of horns or tail… so maybe curse cures completely undo everything? Or maybe the horns and tail were never grown, because he was not an omen. He was veiled at birth or in early youth.
For the sake of clarity, I suggest one possible series of answers.
Who would do this and who knew/knows?
Obviously, Marika and Godfrey were both behind the deception, that’s how Godfrey recognizes that corpse as Morgott and another thing that makes Marika mischievous. Morgott also knows and is a willing participant in the deception. Mohg, Radagon. Potentially Godwyn, Ranni, Miquella. More depending on conspiracy connections.
Is Mohg also not an omen?
I do not know if this deception has implications for Mohg, I suspect so.
Why would Morgott be chained in the sewer even though he wasn’t really an omen?
Maybe, he wasn’t.
Ok, Morgott is not an omen. So what?
Morgott was given a truly important duty, he was to prevent the powers that be from finding out what Marika was truly doing, specifically, what was being done underground and with the roots of the Greattree/Erdtree.
The culture through which Marika and Godfrey acquired power was a crucible celebrating culture, omen were blessed to them or so we are led to believe. They were never saints, they just happened to be on the losing side of a war. Marika foresaw the destruction of her people and instead of direct opposition, she infiltrated her enemy.
We know she seems dedicated to whatever she is ultimately after, no act is off the table and no truth is above being lied about. Omen would be demonized under the Golden Order, those who would serve as guards to the big secret would guard Marika’s access route to her allies, the sewers beneath Leyndell. Sadly, not every citizen serves the clandestine plan with full knowledge of how they serve.
The Omen Twins were unknown for most of history, it seems, as far as their lineage. Morgott, in passage between surface and subsurface, would don the guise of an omen. He was always concealed from the public when in Leyndell, even his name and royal status. Sort of works into how he knew how to make those Sentry Torches and why he was almost called the Veiled Monarch.
I have no current explanation for the shackles. Real tokens bound to a false narrative people developed based on bits of the truth coming to light through the ages.
Anyways, so what is going on underground? Something is being done with the Greattree/Erdtree roots. I posit that the Greattree is like a quacking aspen, one tree with a massive root network from which multiple stalks grow and appear to be a forest but is really just one tree. The Erdtree is one stalk of the Greattree. The other stalks were destroyed one way or another. Minor Erdtrees grow from the same roots structure.
Erdtree Seeds, as we find them, sprout phantom trees. They launched from the Erdtree when Marika shattered the Elden Ring. We use them to enhance our grace juice in magic jars. The seeds were thought not to exist because they don’t, well, they are not seeds. They are grace broken off of the Elden Ring and packaged for our collection and use.
So what’s going on with the roots? Compare the surface and subsurface maps and you see the root structures that seem to fit the Erdtree and Minor Erdtrees are a little off. This misalignment is intended. Recall, the Erdtree is no longer connected to the roots of the Greattree. I suggest this was in response to the half-dead Godwyn being buried in the Erdtree/Greattree roots and infecting them with deathblight. To slow the spread of deathblight, the tree(s) was(were) cut from the roots. Perhaps a literal shifting of the land or a cut and replant type situation. This could partially play into the tilt of the Erdtree.
What leads me to this thought? The roots holding the Death-Prince are too small to be the Erdtree’s main root stalk but not that of a Minor Erdtree. And wouldn’t you know it, that half-dead Minor Erdtree with the deathblight wielding omen and his bodies is just about right over the Death-Prince root.
So when Godwyn’s soul was slain and his living body was placed in the roots, this Minor Erdtree was already growing from them. More, his living body was grafted into the roots. So now, is Morgott’s Margit the Fell phantom just guarding that pathetic Godrick? No. He’s observing and/or guarding grafting and it’s connection to the Greattree Roots and Godwyn. Measuring the reach of the deathblight maybe. I’m not entirely certain on the details, just the basic point, it’s his job.
Maybe something to do with runes and eyes and why the relic beneath Stormveil has no eyes. Runes are soul magic, deathblight is dead soul magic, remove the eyes, remove the soul/dead soul.
Back to the Death-Prince and why was he grafted to the roots? To honor him? To kill the whole system of rune harvesting for the Elden Beast? To preserve and/or revive Godwyn? Something like Miquella and the Haligtree?
(Something related but not specifically part of this: The Mending Rune of the Death-Prince is literally the Death-Prince and Fia’s souls ((in part)) bound into a Great Rune. One way to make Great Runes is the entire point of Deathbed Companions. Great Runes can literally be entities… like the Elden Beast… the Deathbed Companions are not necessarily the only way to make Great Runes, the Forge of the Giants and some kind of great sacrifice like the burning of massive grace filled tree stalks and ice dragons could be another way…)
Speaking of Miquella, the prevalent belief is that Miquella and Godwyn were great buds or whatever, right? Mohg is depicted carrying Miquella and a giant cocoon in the opening. Clearly, that cocoon is too big for that little body. We also see a possible double womb in the Haligtree. Perhaps, Mohg took Miquella and a second, unready, body. This second, much larger body, was certainly important to Miquella but maybe not for his own occupation.
So who’s the big, withered, husk in the cocoon? Well, it’s an upscaled Morgott model. Maybe, just maybe, that is actually Godwyn. Mohg, in service to Miquella and/or the Formless Mother and/or Marika, is guarding his half dead brother. Keeping the body alive and hidden in these final stages of whatever is going on.
Speaking of the Formless Mother, Marika seems a holy shell. Perhaps this exterior is a puppet or doll. Marika is free of flesh and form, at least, we have not seen her true self. All sorts of things will come out if I don’t stop.
So why block the way to the Mountaintops of the Giants? Well, it’s the way to the Forge, also the way to a Divine Tower, and Miquella’s Haligtree.
I haven’t completely figured it all out but it is another small part of my overall grand theory.

submitted by Hour-Opportunity3048 to EldenRingLoreTalk [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:08 ForestHasEyes Polish GROM has been fighting a secret war for decades, our enemies aren't human [Part 3]

Blachowicz here.
Kept yah’ waiting, huh? Heh, sorry about that one, but I can explain. As we all know… we lost a few good men the last few months.
That’s the brutal part of a hybrid war like ours: We’re fighting a foe unconventional, with half our arsenal tied down because those who grant us authorization are either in disbelief of the true facts, or scared… or already assimilated. That being said our momentum recently was a change not seen in years, and because of that… despite the losses we have garnered, we were close through a breakthrough. One last night Krol pulls myself and other two must trusted squad leads into the back of our COP. There is one of our equipment cages, surrounded by m-bitter radios, tripods, and several hundred thousand dollars of equipment he brought us around a simple worn table. Before us he laid a map of eastern poland… red markings indicating cells that seemed to dot the countryside like a pestilence, or used to… as deep gashes of advance from raids had trisected their lines, even if ones did pop up in the interior.
It was a back and forth; an outside virus infecting Polska at it’s heart, and we were the antibodies sent to drive them out. To which… Major Krol points to one of the largest symbol on the map: a dark red diamond, the NATO symbol for an enemy unit, deep inside of an untouched wooded area, adjacent to a mountain ridge. Several jagged lines indicated entrenchment, with red horizontal lines indicating possible enemy control… or our contested control, for over 20kms surrounding it. Letting us all look, the Major lit himself a cigarette.
“Sir, you sure it’s wise to smoke in here with the dive tanks just behind us” 1st Squad’s lead quipped. “Fuck off” Krol dryly said.
“Alright… this is it… this is the one we’ve been searching for for years, this is the nucleus my predecessor commander died trying to find” he says, pointing to it. Not far from Zamosc, it was almost touching the border with Belarus, the contested area indicating the Strigoi did operate over it… indicating one of the largest spill through points. “-It’s an old soviet bunker, made during their 1960s initiative it was designed to hold the munitions and manpower of several units in the event of a NATO first strike” Krol explained. “It’s gotta be massive then…” I said gazing at the map; “Didn’t the army demolish all of the old soviet hulks near Belarus to prevent any infiltrations?” 3rd Squad’s lead asked. “National Police took the effort over… and by extension, the Strigoi. It was halfway demo’ed before they burrowed into it and have been using it as a bridgehead ever since. This is it…” Krol said. He looked around at all of us, a sense of certainty I had never seen before as he blew smoke from his nostrils; “We’ve been fucking around in the dark for so long, it’s hard to believe we’ve made any progress, but this is it. With this gone, this will set them back over a decade and the momentum will finally shift into our favor… into Poland’s… -Europe’s”.
I swear there was almost a flash of joy, of pride in his eyes and a phantom of a smirk before reality set back in “That being said… we can’t leave this to chance, especially not something as important as this. We’re going to have to go there ourselves… clear through every inch of that place, and tear it all down, piece by piece. I will be straight with you all… when we go, there will be some of us that aren’t coming back. -but we are going… a whole generation is counting on us, and unborn billions rely on us to succeed”. We all nodded, a silent agreement washing over us as we took this upon ourselves. Echo-1 spoke up: “So… They’re authorizing a raid? How big?”. “We’re rolling in as a hard target, armor, explosives, and air support” Krol answered, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Aviation? How the hell did we get that approved, we’ve gotten attempts shot down four times due to those leeches” I said in disbelief. “There’s too much evidence here pointing to the human trafficking tied to their actions… We’ve finally got too much weight pinning them down, to keep the hammer from slamming into their necks” Krol chuckled. He looked around “Any questions?”. “When?” Echo-3 asked. “Three hours. We’re hitting them in the dead of night, only time we could get the birds authorized. Get your boys ready. We’re rolling out” Krol said, dying the cigarette bud out on the table. I can’t begin to tell you the euphoria we felt leaving that cage, as our men started arriving, they did so a lot quicker, and with their heads a lot higher than they had in weeks. As Second Squad’s lead we were going to be one of the main arms of attack into the bunker, thus I made sure we had a breacher loaded with enough thermite, charges, and tools to cut through anything. Our shield bearer we ready to go, as was our assaulters, grenadiers, and machine gunner. I double checked each and everyone of their weapons; ensuring the feeder paws of our squad’s belt fed were intact, making sure every breach charge we had was properly set and packed. There was going to be no mistakes, no slip ups. The margin of error needed to be the smallest it had ever been for us tonight if we were going to make the gore spilt worth it.
Finally… there on the outside of the building, the bright LED lights kept the darkness of the ensuing night at bay as the roar of our MRAPs could be heard. It was said once that war is 99% peace, and 1% chaos, they were right. The slow periods where the blood slowed and the doubt creeped in was the worst… yet we all kept it at bay. We needed to, there was going to be no backing down tonight. All three squads were up, all of us ready to go… we circled up… short stares and shaky nods telling us one things: We were in this together, till the end… the finish line so many before us had been searching for, we were being granted tonight.
A single set of footsteps could be heard as we turned, Major Krol stepping into the center. He took the last drag of a cigarette, throwing it down to the ground and stamping it out onto the damp concrete. He looked around… his chin strap blowing in the weak air as he met everyone of our gazes… then mine… then looked around. “I want you to remember every detail of tonight, as you have every other night… when you are situationally aware, scanning for the enemy, liberating the subjugated, I want you to remember the sting of anxiety, the shake of adrenaline, the chill of the bunker, the heat of your weapon as it cuts them down… because tonight we are going to write every fine detail of our victory, their defeat, in history…” Krol’s words echoed deep into our souls. He paused for a moment, staring around he looked down… a small pause before he said “When you are ruthless in combat, remember to be patient, and reserved in victory. This conflict is for our existence… a lot of innocents have bled due to the mistakes of those who failed to listen, a lot of our brothers are now laid under because we had to bridge the gap of uncertainty with their lives. We remember them now… but in an hour? We forget them… when we raise our barrels, when we cut into those foes, and we liberate Polska!! This does not end tonight, but history puts everything in it’s place, and patience is the companion of the victor… All of our hard work will be cemented, no matter the obstacles we face in that darkness… no matter the demons, the blood, no matter what incomprehensible horrors, we will make them comprehend that to invade our land, to bleed our people, the justice will be paid in full… Load up. It’s time*”*.
The purpose in our steps was heavy as we climbed the back ramps of the MRAPS; Four of the heavily armored vehicles, one for each squad with an additional for attached personnel including our JTAC, the term means Joint Terminal Attack Controllers. With air support requisitioned to us for this operations, there needs to be a definite liaison on the ground who can directly communicate to the birds, and coordinate their fire and progress. I’d worked with many of them in the past, resourceful guys, quick thinking though I guess that comes with the position they hold of needing to quickly figure out what bombs to drop, on which target, at what precise points, whilst taking contact. He loaded in the lead vehicle with Major Krol… and soon, our convoy kicked off.
The drive was several hours as myself and my squad sat in the back of that forty ton goliath, the rumbling of the engine keeping us awake as the crap heater fought to keep the cold from the outside frost from setting in. I looked around to each of them, some were catching some sleep because even with the circumstances… better to get all the energy you can, than to stay awake for nothing. Others were checking their weapons… My gunner locked eyes with me, the same one from the village extraction… many of these men I had trained with for a while now, fought with for months.
We may have met on unconventional circumstances but those in JW Grom thrive on austere chance and create opportunity from scratch. I was pulled from my thought by the sound of a transmission, my peltors were set up for dual comms so I could both receive information from the Major and other leads, whilst communicating with my team.
Krol himself sent out: [“Approximately 10 minutes from enemy AO…”]. As the rest of the squads acknowledged, I quickly sent out [“Echo-2 Copies”], before kicking the boots of any of them sleeping: “Look alive, we’re here”. Through the exterior net armor of the MRAPS, and the bars protecting the small reinforced windows, we could barely see jack shit. I reached up, turning off the overhead light as we all looked through our nods to scan the outside. A dark wall of dense trees was shown before us, making it difficult to see… in addition to night vision capabilities we had also requisitioned ourselves some thermals… when mounted onto rifles they were bulky, made it a pain to aim down quickly, but considering the supernatural capabilities of spotting our foes we needed every advantage necessary.
I flipped out one of my tubes… scanning the outside with my scope. I looked over to one of my assaulters who had been assigned to man the turret of the MRAP, seated near the view screen as he controlled the 50. Cal. Each of the vehicle turrets had been assigned a direction to cover… we took the 9 o’clock, the left flank. “See anything?” I asked. He shook his head; “Negative… wait… I’ve got two cold signatures, front left heading to our rear”.
I quickly scanned the far tree line, at approximately 60 meters off our left were two cold signatures… followed by a third heading to our front… then another. They were surrounding us, moving at speeds so fast I could barely keep my reticle on them. Is this what the National Police saw? What they faced at that lodge without the benefit of a foot of heavy armor protecting them on all sides. Then… suddenly. Something slammed into the side of our MRAP so hard, it caused it to shake. From over the leader comms, Echo-3 quickly shouted [“Contact right!! 4 hostiles!!”].
One of the Strigoi… so bold, had charged and slammed into the side of our MRAP. I quickly looked to see the figure, a dark blue mass of cold energy through my thermal, back away without so much as a stagger… as they tried to flee into the woods, the white hot justice of Echo-3’s gun fired at them, cutting them down. “Blachowicz I’ve got a few breaking for our vic” my man on the turret called out, I spun around, spotting out the window.
Just then, Major Krol announced [“weapons free, watch and shoot for targets of opportunity…”]. I turned to him… “take those fuckers out-”. Without hesitation my vic’s turret began to quickly target them, and through the darkness I saw a stream of outgoing fire bisect one of them, the ISR of the black blood freaking out the optic so badly it didn’t know what temperature to register it as… but it did register it. As another was cut down, one broke through the tree line and latched onto the side of our MRAP. The thing tore at one of the outer net armor panels, usually made to stop RPGs. It grabbed at the bars near the windows, tearing one off… I lowered my rifle as we locked eyes through the reinforced window.
The thing… the Strigoi looked at me, skin cracked as putrefied muscle fibers seemed to leak through dead flesh. It’s teeth were corroded and worn down to sharp fragments, alongside newly mutated fangs that messily protrude from the jaws. Even through the thick walls of the MRAP I could hear it’s roar, as it then tried to punch it’s way through… it cracked the outer coating of the vehicle… but it wasn’t getting anywhere near. My machine gunner, seated next to me, seemed to chuckle at the sight, quippily saying “Yeah… fuck you too”. It’s then our vehicle lurched upwards, as we began to climb the small incline of the bunker. I knew the layout, mapped it in our head, the main entrance was built into the rocky side of an old cliff meaning we could easily set up a defensive perimeter around it, a horseshoe. Krol’s vehicle was first, taking to the right as Echo-3’s MRAP followed. My vehicle, third, left the incline and took a left and… that’s where things got complicated.
We’re still trying to work out what happened but… from what Joakim says his drone captured. Right when the MRAP turned, several of the monsters quickly slammed into the side of the vehicle, as another more bulkier one, pushed at it’s undercarriage. The result.. Was the 40 ton armored vehicle tipped over. It wasn’t uncommon, hell in some cases a well placed IED, a good shot with a recoilless rifle, have been known to tip over Oshkoshs and Maxpros all the time. But this beast? Needless to say we barely had a second to comprehend it as it leaned to the left; “Grab on to something-” is all I had time to shout. A mess of gear and men spilled onto one side of the vehicle as it slammed into the old gravel and dirt.
Several of my assaulters, my grenadier planted right ontop of myself and the others as we came to a stop. Someone’s knee slammed directly into the side of my skull, causing me to dazily bob in and out of consciousness as my face was smushed against the glass of one of the windows.
Through my peltors, the other squads were erratic;
[“Echo-2’s vehicle is down!!”].
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2… Echo-3 to Echo-2…”].
Krol’s voice came through the comms;
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-2… Fuc-... Echo-1 secure Echo 2’s flank, Echo-3”].
[“Echo-3 to other units, they’re spilling through, I’ve got several enemy combatants converging on Echo-2’s vehicle”].
I pushed the legs of my grenadier off my head as I fought to my hands and knees, unfucking my nods as I looked around… “Fuck it… we’re going lights on, shield your eyes” I muttered as I reached for the overhead lights and flipped them on. The bright LEDs bathed the inside of the vehicle as we all gained our bearings, a mess of multicam, gear, and weapons as we quickly pushed each other off. My gunner caught as he fought to realign his promask, from what I gathered one of the assaulters had landed directly into his gun, pushing it directly into his jugular, as pulled back at the rubber and coughed, freeing up his esophagus. We didn’t have time to think however… the sound of bending metal caught our attention… as the back ramp door of the MRAP was ripped clean off. I could barely believe it but as the white light of the MRAP’s interior poured to the outside, a hulking mass leaned in, the dead flesh on it’s face nearly fallen off as the hideous Strigoi leaned inside.
Without hesitation I aimed took aim, yelling “Keep to the deck!!” to any of those inbetween myself and the invader as I opened fire. A burst of full auto fire tore through it’s collar and neck, my men quickly clung to either sides of the fallen MRAP as a few more fired out. As the thing backed up, a blast of .50 cal fire quickly tore it to shreds, along with several others as I realized they were fuckin swarming over the outside of our vehicle. Echo-3’s vehicle continued to carefully fire on the Strigoi on the outside, the sounds of .50 cal ricocheting off the outside of our armor was enough to make the pucker factor set in.
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2”].
[“This is Echo-2, we’re green on ammo, equipment, men”].
[“Roger, we’re shifting fire, exit the vehicle”].
“Hurry up let’s go!!” I barked to my men, leading the way as I staggered out. I turned on my peq, taking aim at silhouettes in the brush as I began to fire. The sounds of machine guns lighting up the brush, as a sea of growls, howls, and incomprehensible roars fired back at us was the ambient noise of the night. My men quickly exited, my gunner being the last as he and I pulled back to the rest of the defensive perimeter. I set in my men to take up the frontal security, as 3rd squad took the right flank, 1st squad to the left. Major Krol and the JTAC were bickering with each other; “How far out are the birds”. “They’re entering airspace now…” Joakim said, already scanning his smart book.
I asked “What’ve we got?”. He then flipped through… to the NATO combined arms segment, quippily saying; “Apaches…”. This caused me to pause as Echo-3 turned their head whilst directing their squad’s fire “The hell… where did we get apaches from?”. “The Americans… they volunteered” Krol said dismissively as he took aim at the darkness, firing off a controlled trio. “Volunteered? They’re aware of what’s going on?” I asked.
Krol seemed to stop, glancing back at me before returning his focus “There’s a lot more going on than you realize, Blachowicz… Prep the breach, you and 1st are going on”.
I quickly pulled my breacher off the line, securing some thermite as the reinforced bunker door wasn’t going to go as easily as a conventional door breach would. 1st Squad pulled back, stacking up and preparing themselves to be the first in. All the while… Joakim gave his firing solution; “Alpha Hotel Two Five Nine, This is Bravo-4…… Type 2….”.
I snapped to my right, watching as a Strigoi managed to dark across the clear gravel field, only to be cut down by my gunner, the peq’s laser marking the burst as it tore through the beasts’ hips, as it hit the ground and still continued to claw, another GROM operator took aim and fired into it’s skull. Joakim popped up to his feet…. “Marking laser, high power…”. He then pulled out a target marking laser… if you’ve watched night operations, you’ve probably seen them.
The green laser than as it says on the label, marks targets. The pattern of which can vary… if it’s a point target, it’ll usually lasso an area, or remain on target until the target is removed with extreme prejudice. If its close air support, then it’ll be a line of the general area… and Joakim damn near marked the entire perimeter around us. He quickly pocketed the tool, turning back to Krol; “Don’t go past 20 meters unless you want to be liquidated”.
With that… 2nd and 1st stacked up at the door as 3rd squad took up the perimeter security. As Major Krol went over to Echo-1… I saw them. A single blinking IR strobe from the beasts as they moved on the far off horizon, converging from several angles… and fired. The sound of the Apache’s main gun, the M230, truly sounds like the hammer of god… the 30mm cannon shot through the dark sky, lighting it up as we saw three incoming streams tear up the woods. Only then as the sound broke did we start to hear their rotors as they broke and began to circle, firing again… then… Joakim dipped his head and looked to Krol; [“Foxtrot Mike, hang onto your teeth…”]. One of the Apaches fired off a AGM-114… a Hellfire. I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye as the Apache from our right flank fired off at a target approximately 200 meters off. A fireball lit up the forest as the horrendous roar echoed throughout… then went silent.
Echo-3 scanned the horizon carefully;
[“Echo-3 to Echo-Lead, enemy contact is starting to die down”].
[“Maintain perimeter, Close Air is to maintain fire mission until we are boots up, Break…”].
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-1, condition white has been met. Proceeds”]. I saw Echo-1 and his men quickly stack up close to the wall and gesture to me; Breaching. I quickly pulled my stack back against the wall as his and mine breacher quickly hit their actuators. Now under normal circumstances, it doesn’t take much for thermite to melt the locks off of a metal surface, in fact it’s a more precise took as alternative means get real medieval like saws, pry bars… we weren’t in the mood for precision, we need to breach their little lair, and drag them out. The sound of several pounds of hellfire burning through the metal could be heard around the corner as a sea of white and red sparks flew out… after several seconds, two of our men tossed a fragmentation grenade and a nine-bang through the opening… a series of concussive blasts and a large explosion rang out.
Echo-1 and his men maneuvered. 1st Squad quickly converged as we followed them in.
Stepping through the black wall of smoke, the dark abyss of the interior was illuminated in a white light as entered barrels raised. Shots rang out as several of the beasts near the entrance were cut down, though not immediately, rounds disconnected the shoulder of one of them, leading to their arm hanging limply by a single tendon as they roared… another series of rounds putting them down. What greeted us was a messy concrete hell of rust and debris, fecal matter, trash, and all kinds of obstacles laid in our way, our boots sticking to the floor. I thank every god we had promasks that night. I called my shield bearer up, 2nd squad leapfrogging ahead to take the next corridor as 1st squad checked their weapons.
One of my men mule kicked the metal door ahead, twice, finally the latch gave away as we tossed in a grenade. A horrifying roar was cut off as an M67 shook the walls of the ancient soviet mausoleum, frag and spall kicked off the walls as I moved in right behind my shield man. The cramped russian design meant there was barely enough space for three people, and that’s three normal people, not in 50kgs of kit, moving slowly and maneuvering against creatures of the dark. Still… we moved forward, my shield bearer and I pushing the pace as two stacked of either squad formed on either wall.
As we passed doorways they flowed in… “Door Left!!”, “Door Right!!”. “Move!!”.
Two men entered each side, no gunshots, we moved up, a roar came.
“Door left!!-”. A series of gunshots came out as we continued to push forward.
“Two down!!”. “Confirm them” Krol commanded, as a series of gunshots run out in response. From one of the doorways, a Strigoi emerged… a female… clumps of hair had been ripped from her decaying skull, as her blooded eyes locked on myself and my shieldman. The skin on her hands had been tore down to the point where barely her bones and tendons remain… looking like huge talons as she roared and lunged at us. He fired off his pistol, though the rounds did little to stop her as she pushed against our stack.
“Fuck!!” he muttered, somehow her strength caused him to stagnate, holding up the advance… fuck that. I shoved the muzzle of my MK18 into her ribcage, flipping the weapon to auto as I fired of round after round. The 5.56 salvo disconnecting her spinal column, causing her to fall as I continued to fire, along with a man to our right and left as the stacks reformed as we pushed to the end of the hall. I fell back, dropping the magazine and loading a fresh one, like clockwork a GROM Operator from 1st squad took my place. Krol was beside me as we approached the end of the hall.
[“-Prep an entry”] I radioed to my breacher, a comrade handed him one of the charges from his back panel as he took to the door, quickly securing it. We all moved as far back as we could, look away, exhale. The blast knocked metal and wood in all directions, scrapping against our uniforms and kit as we made our way in and what laid before us was… it used to be the center atrium of one of these bunkers. Soviet’s loved their grandiose designs, the complex was supposed to be a circular room around a central planning table… instead. It had been turned into some sort of church. Runes and old eastern Romuva pagan symbols written in black ink and blood across the walls, old rotten filing cabinets, long receipt terminals. In the center… several of the Strigoi were kneeling before the table where someone had been tied down, flayed, and… shared amongst the group. They rose to their feet, we aimed our barrels…
The ladder amongst turned to us… his skin wasn’t cracked, or flayed, it was smooth… it still looked dead as the body on the table but it seemed more… accustomed to it. I don’t know… evolved? Under the surface however I could see it’s darkened veins pumping whatever cursed blood ran through them as it locked two blood red eyes onto each of us. It’s nose had long since been turn off, exposing boney nostrils to the open air as it seemed to smirk. All across it’s body were the same symbols on the walls, in every cell… markings of death, of rebirth, of assimilation… From behind this seemingly Alpha emerges another figure I had never seemed before… dressed in a white cloak with a deer head.
"So they've followed the trail... they're too late" the Deer headed individual spoke, definitely not from here, a dialect similar to an Americans but... aristocratic? Each word was drawn out, assurance as if they had everything mapped down to our actions. They didn’t sound like they were from Poland or the east.
“Doesn’t matter…” the Alpha growled… and then, it lunged at us. Quickly breaking from their ground it slammed into my shield man knocking both him and myself at the ground as it displayed an intense feat of strength. Around us I could see several of the Strigoi leap at our comrades… though to no fruitful endeavor as I could see one GROM operator cut two down, as another got into a hand to hand confrontation… my breacher, crafty as they were, reached back and slammed one of the prybars of his kit into the skull of the beast.
The Alpha however was not content as it threw away the 90lb shield, sending it flying across the room as it grabbed my comrade by the skull. I quickly kicked up at it, firing my MK18 into it’s body as the rounds pierced it’s gray and rune covered flesh. The thing simply seemed to chuckle… that was until Major Krol blasted away at the side of it’s head, the alpha turned… and it’s smirk turned to a scowl when face to face with the major. A knowing pause almost like they had done this dance before…
The creature lunged, locking up with Major Krol as it swung and slammed railing. Krol didn’t back down however as he pushed against the creature, hiptossing it to the ground even as it tore at his armor and gear. But the beast pulled, both of them rolled and the Major was on his back as the thing reached for his neck. I fought to a kneel, firing into the creature messily with my MK18, trying not to hit my commander… then…
Click. A sound sends a chill up the spine of every warfighter during a firefight.
My gun ran dry. I dropped the magazine, looking to load another, but the thing came up and with one of it’s claws, sliced deep into my cheek, through the pro mask. I could feel my own blood go flying through the air as I landed hard on my back plate, spitting out red iron as I quickly tried to adjust my mask. Through my fogged up, blood covered lense… I saw my shield man raise his pistol, firing into the skull of the thing staggering it with a roar. Krol came from behind, drawing his knife he sunk it deep into the neck of it…. I reached for my rifle, forcing a new magazine in and damn near punching the bold release. ““Sir, down!!” I shouted, Krol rolled away, back to his own rifle as I fired. So did my comrade as he continued to fire his pistol… so did the Major as he fired his rifle. All of us chewing through that apex predator of darkness, that beast… the leader that had been preying on our people for so long. Layer by layer, muscle group by bone… eventually… the alpha landed on whatever was left of his back.
The silence of the fight died down as all of us checked our surroundings, GROM Operators putting controlled pairs in the heads and nerve stems of any Strigoi laying around… I flicked my weapon onto safe, letting it hang as I pulled off my mask. I dared not touch the wound on my face… the pain nearly crippling me if it wasn’t sheer will pushing me through, and adrenaline doing all it could to subdue it. The sound of the apaches continuing to lay hate drew us from our moment of contemplation as the Major went back to work; [“Confiscate any info, burn the rest…”]. He turned back to me as I shoved my damaged M50 mask back into it’s bag, chuckling as he looked at the sight; “You need a medevac, Blachowicz?” he quipped.
I shook my head, barely able to speak as I muttered; “Negative sir…”. The two of us scanned the room as my shield bearer went to collect his defense implement turned 90lb projectile, we scanned the center of the room, checking and confirming bodies, until we got to the last one alive. His white gown was soaked in red crimson and black ooze, as his dear head was mangled from bullet fire and impact from falling on it. I swear… the way his blood poured out of it though made me wonder if it was a mask. I gave it no second thoughts as he looked to Krol; “You… you can’t stop this, they’ve already-”.
The Major was in no mood for communication as his rifle snapped up and fired off three rounds to the body, four the head. The violent yet quick salvo ending the cultists life, I looked down at it, then to him as he remarked; “Have your squad drag him out to the front, burn the rest”. I stood alongside him, looking down as the sight of it’s deer head was both captivating and horrifying… the curiosity in me wanting to look closer at it fighting the primal instinct I had to burn the thing to ash. “-Haven’t seen one of those before…” I muttered, thinking the Major had an answer.
He didn’t. Krol saying “Neither have I…” shortly before he walked away, was what truly shook my soul about that entire night. Victory stood firm in our hearts that night as we stood outside of the bunker. The night sky burning with fire and white phosphorus as we watched the ruin burn from the inside from the other side of the lot. In the distance, the Apaches continued to scan and circle the forests, no longer firing…. Which meant they had driven any or turned to glass any enemy combatants within a four miles, probably both, more than likely the latter. Echo-1 patted me on the shoulder as we stood there, soaking it all in, though Krol looked none to pleased. “In the time it took us to take this one down, they’ll be trying to set up three more cells… that being established…” he said, looking to either of us, then to Echo-3. “-Hell of a thing we did tonight, been waiting for this one for a decade, cleanly, maybe more… but no time to rest on our laurels… we’ll have another task for us as soon as we’re boots down back home” he said, to which his eyes followed mine, the body of whatever cultist that was zipped up in a black body bag beside the wheel of one of the MRAPs. The fire from the bunker casting an orange hue over it’s shiny jet black outside, something didn’t sit right with me… “That wasn’t a Strigoi…” I said to Krol.
“That’s very clear…” the Major said, shoving his mask under his arm and lighting a cigarette. “So… someone’s helping them?” I asked. The meer notion of it shook me to my core, sickened me. This parasite was already badly infecting Europa, Polska… if it was spread like this throughout the world. Krol settled my nerves: “We’ll be ready… It’s not just us anymore”. As he said that, I realized what he meant… my eyes looking to the Apaches as they started to form up, leaving the areas as their thunderous propellers melted into the night’s calm, unnerving ambience.
It’s been a couple of weeks since then, Echo Detachment has been busy. We’ve gained good ground against the enemy and honestly I think in a few years, we might see a much larger change. For now… we must keep going, that being said the Strigoi aren’t the only ones we’ve been combating. Recently we’ve made contact with of some sort of extermination coalition, they’ve known about the Strigoi, and others plaguing the world, the level of corruption and corrosion on society goes deep. Regardless a lot of the units we’ve been working with are apart of NATO, such as this “4th Special Forces Group” of the American Military. I don’t know where the road from here leads, but we’ve gotten momentum on our side, finally. Just remember… these things are out there, in every town, every city, every nation… preying and waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, so they can take you and replace you.
Watch your back, and stay safe.
For now, Blachowicz signing out. Until next time

submitted by ForestHasEyes to u/ForestHasEyes [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:08 _squeeee Update To: Did I Fuck Up My Relationship With My Son?

Hi Everyone,
I read all your comments, your ridiculous and harassing DM requests, your advice, etc...I just can't get to them all so I'll just provide you guys with the following:

I want to thank the ones who offered great advice and encouraging words of support and comfort. Instead of judging me or my son as if you all have known us for a long time - you all took the time to share your experience and how you all handled the situation, That was more helpful than anything.
I want to applaud the great parents out there who think they know my son because they've been 19 before and were thrown out into the streets to fend for themselves so they think they can relate. We all can't relate to each others' experiences, not fully. Also, I'm sorry your parents did that to you but just because you "turned out okay" doesn't mean that everyone else will. Apparently, you all didn't turn out okay because you all left some really shitty comments like there's a one size fit all manual for parenting. And I hope your kids (if you have any) will turn out okay or have turned out okay with your type of parenting without any resentment towards you.
I will not make my son move out of his home just for him to experience the ultimate struggle at the age of 19 - survival mode. Even though he's old enough to vote, go to war, be jailed for a crime - he is still a kid. We live in a HCOL area. You can't buy a townhome built in 1974 in my neighborhood for less than $450k. $20/hr is not even enough to survive here and actually live comfortably. He could move to a different county, but he drives to 3 different locations for work and the farther you are from those locations, the more you’re filling up your tank with gas and more time spent on the road. He is not going to find roommates as his friends who are also in CC are also struggling to make enough to even rent an apartment or be approved as all the properties here require that your income is 3x the annual amount of the rent. By kicking him out, it's not helping anyone. He'll just be homeless (ruin his credit) and come back. He might as well just figure out a budget and start squirreling away money to save up enough to move out. He is also transferring to a state school after CC and has brought up that he will not be living at home but live closer to campus.
He is/was not a bad kid. He is not on drugs. Yes, his father was and is still present. We've been married for 20 years. My in-laws also have helped us raise our kids (we live very close - like walk to their house close) so they have also experienced the old school type of parenting without the beatings. He's respectful, can be thoughtful most times, and very caring. His attitude the other day is still unacceptable and was the wrong way to express his emotions and thoughts but I was also wrong in the way I responded. My son has never been in fights, have never been called to the principal's office for doing dumb shit most teenagers do. He usually has a good head on his shoulders. Cops have never showed up at my door because he was out doing something stupid with his friends.
He works full time and goes to school full time because it's manageable for him. We have discussed that if doing both is too overwhelming, that he will cut back to working on a part time basis. But, for now, it's doable. He works from 6 am - 11 am. Gets home around 11:30 in the morning or goes straight to the CC for his in person classes. He also has online classes that he can do at his pace. He doesn't work on weekends so he can use that time to focus on his school assignments. He's also not your typical young adult who goes out every night to hang out with friends...he goes to work, school, gym, and home. Most of his friends are in school out of state playing D1 sports. As far as me thinking I know where my son is at all the time - I'm not just pulling this shit out of my ass - my family and I track each other through Life360. So I know where they are and where they've been and they can also see where I am and where I've been. And there's also Find My iPhone which we all share each other's locations. We all tend to misplace our phones in the house and we use it to make that annoying alarm sound.
He's probably the smartest kid I know. He started taking AP classes in 10th grade and on. He took AP Biology, AP Calculus, AP Physics, AP ASL, and AP Statistics. By the time he was in 12th grade, he managed to get enough credits that he could do school half day, go home, and then go to the after care program where he used to work. For a kid, he was pretty good at time management. Better than me as an adult now. I have the time management skills of a carrot (I have ADHD). He graduated with a 4.5 GPA (due to AP classes weighed at 5.0)
I'm not a perfect person nor a perfect parent. I'm learning as I go and doing the best I can with what I have. I may have fucked up sometimes along the way but I'm still a human being and we're all prone to fucking up. I've owned my mistakes and I strive to do better; not just for me, but also for my family.
Yes, he's a dick like most teenagers. I was a dick when I was a teenager. Probably worse than my kids. But he's not perfect and I don't expect him to be. We consider ourselves lucky that he didn't turn out to be a delinquent who barely passed HS or addicted to drugs and alcohol.
His lesson learned from this is that Mom & Dad aren't going to be around forever so might as well buckle up and enjoy the ride into financial literacy. He's going to start slow and figure out what works for him. We're not disowning him. No matter what, he's still our kid and we're going to move on from this and work something out so all parties are on the same page.
My kids are spoiled but they're not brats. Yes, we overcompensated to make up for our crappy childhoods but they have mostly been grateful for everything they have and that they have a great support system. They know that they have a great support system - it took and is taking a whole village to raise my children. Most of our family is local and they have positively contributed to the people that my children have become. They're not sheltered like some of you have stated on here. They are very much aware of what is going on around them and that there are other who are not so lucky. They didn't grow up with a silver spoon in their mouths - they were just lucky to be born into a family with loving parents and extended family.

I know that was long but I hope I've covered everything. This was the first time he's ever been this disrespectful - so this is not a constant thing, this is brand new. Waters are still rocky so I'm not going to bring this up until I've figured out how to approach him with this situation and some time has passed. No matter how you look at it, he doesn't have the emotional maturity as a full grown adult with a developed frontal lobe and have lived through multiple life experiences.
However, we're going to treat him like the young adult that he is and instill in him that he is responsible for how his life is going to turn out now that we've passed the reins over to him. Raising my kids have been the most exhausting, draining, and confusing thing I have ever done in my life. I was only 22 when he was born - I was a young mother, a wife, a college student, and a young adult who had to figure out life (and I still am). I have no resentment towards him and my daughter because I had them so young. If anything, I'm grateful as I had to learn how to stand on my own two feet and learn how to make better decisions for their sake. They didn't choose to be born - I made that choice for them and I promised myself that they will always grow up knowing they were loved and cared for. And they are - deeply. But as I said, I had the support of family - my husband's family who welcomed me and helped me throughout this journey.

submitted by _squeeee to Parenting [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:06 Purple_Tuxedo The Epic of Clyde: The Nuh-Uh King [VERY LONG]

I wasn't entirely sure where to chronicle the wonderous tale of Clyde, because this spans multiple websites including reddit. Not enough drama localized here for it to be subredditdrama , and not enough on the Discord for it to be considered discordhorrorstories, and not enough TTRPG for rpghorrorstories.
Mods, feel free to direct me to the proper place if this isn't it. Anyway, on with the disaster.
Our tale begins on a subreddit in a semi-niche community of the RP side of Reddit, which I won't name because of Rule 9. It's a medieval-themed board where you can post memes if you want, but is mainly known for it's "encounter posts" and long, long chains of IC conversations between the regulars of the sub. I myself love the place, my Doctor Who OC (isn't relevant to the tale so I'll keep info on that brief) is one such regular, having decided to become that planet's Doctor stand-in. Long irrelevant story. Check my comment history, I'm all over that sub. Any references to that character are just to provide examples for how things work there.

Some background to understand the landscape:

Character creation is pretty lax there. One doesn't necessarily have to be a knight, (such as my character for example) but most people choose to be. It's gotten some controversies in the past concerning technology limitations to some extent, mainly asking folks to flavor things fantasy-style, such as my character being viewed as an eccentric artificer who lives in a box of miracles. A phrase I see commonly for when people ask questions about this is something like this:

"You can have an F-22 Raptor, but it cannot be an F-22 Raptor. Perhaps a Da-Vinci style flying machine propelled by magic to have comparable speed instead?"

Stuff like that. The community doesn't want to stifle creativity, but also don't want people to ruin the DnD-style universe with technology far outstripping the era (hence why my character must be secretive about his Tardis; Meta-perspective it's to avoid violating the tech rule more than it already does by nature). There's also a no-NSFW/ERP rule (unless its in DMs), which will come into play later.
Due to rulings like this, it has the obvious problem of how to settle things like duels, or how various people groups see each other IC. This caused a mutual agreement over on the discord to have the combatants agree on the terms of the duel beforehand, either in DMs or OOC somewhere. Stuff like, HP per character, highest D20 wins/best of 3, or first to Nat 20. Alternatively, self-hosted Encounter Posts can have their own rules, which must be outlined in the comment section by OP. Here's an example stat block from one such encounter:
https://preview.redd.it/xlo49rq4ih0d1.png?width=1122&format=png&auto=webp&s=dd7c9908af081c25953ebebcb1ed1a3a40c04eb6

Now, where does Clyde come into play?

Once upon a time, there was a user I'll call Clyde. Clyde is effectively the most anime character of all anime characters I've ever seen in my time in that community. To put it bluntly, he refuses to lose. I don't mean like he's very determined or super good at the combat, or a clever RP-er. I mean, his characters (of which the Tupperbox list on the Discord is FULL of, which will come up later), have miscellaneous excuses as to why they can literally never lose any engagement. Not one. Hence the nickname, "The Nuh-Uh King"
Here's a word for word excerpt from the Bio of one of his characters. Keep in mind, he's no troll. I've talked to him in VC before. This is completely, unironically, serious.

She was also born with several vampiric abilities yet none of the weaknesses.

I have plenty of more snippets just like this if not worse, including one that I couldn't relocate to post here that in summary said "can cast Wish as a Cantrip" (Clyde typically prefers to use DnD for organization of his very overpowered moveset.) or claiming to be level 50, despite DnD maxing at 20.
Note: Clyde insists on DnD-puritanism in his interactions, only to immediately violate his own rules.
By far the most cursed of his lineup is the Golden Half-Dragon. This character supposedly can predict the opponent's moves before they make them. Most Encounter Hosts try to make him roll for this, but he insists it's an innate ability that doesn't have to be rolled, and he has "+30 on every roll" (despite the Encounters not typically allowing modifiers) so he cannot fail anyway. Additionally, there is no Saving Throw for the opponent. Using the same justification, you cannot circumvent it. It's always a Critical hit, and he flaunts this totally fair ability to one-shot anyone and anything, including Lovecraftian Elder Gods (We have a Warlock or two who have dark pacts with Outer Beings)
Clyde seems to have no concept of fun for people other than himself. There's been several incidents of him joining other people's threads, of course one-shotting their instance of the Encounter and declaring himself the winner. People often just ignore him, but sometimes people will try to argue with him about it, and he gets very defensive and picks a fight with the person who won't just let him steamroll their combat. Not to mention, the hypocrisy can be smelled a MILE away.
Here's another lovely message in one such argument. TLDR-ed because there was a bunch of anime exposition that I'm not gonna make you read.

"I snap my fingers and the entire army falls dead, (TW: Violence) their heads severed from their bodies in a fraction of an instant with my blade."

The person protests about ruining the fun (Encounter involved liberating an occupied village by stealth or counter-raiding or assassination of the General, a boss. It was open ended, but they asked for creativity in the post. You were allowed to challenge the army, but you couldn't John Wick them, the Host asked that a Tactical victory be done through soldiers of the Commenter's own). They argued that it was overpowered to do that alone and not very fun to host. Posts a hypothetical of what if someone with the same unimaginably powerful level of a character was able to take down his character in one hit and received this as a response:

"If I ever meet a character that strong I won't consider them canon nor interact with them. My characters are too powerful and they can't lose so it wouldn't happen anyway."

Once more, this was without /s, this was without a hint of irony. I've seen trolls do something similar before, but no one has gone to a practically cartoonish level with it. Everyone is pretty tired of it, and he's been warned by the Mods of both the Subreddit and the Discord multiple times, which brings us to Part 3:

Clyde Joins the Discord

Oh, boy. THIS is a story. So the Discord has several separate sections, places where people can interact OOC and talk about games or other interests outside of Text RP. They also have threads for IC stuff if, say, your character wanted to rent a room at the local Tavern, or conduct business at the marketplace, or visit a shop run by someone else.
The moment he discovered that a Discord existed, the Tupperbox creation channel was absolutely flooded with his characters, and ALL of them are almost impressively overpowered in some form or fashion. I won't go into detail, but it's a long list.
Pretty quickly, a nasty habit of "ghost-pinging" or @ ing someone repeatedly and then deleting the messages developed. One of his warnings was due to this habit, and to his credit it happens less often now, but if you don't respond for more than a minute after he continues, the spam begins until you return. Now, I understand sending a reminder to be sure they remember the interaction/figure out if they're ghosting, but this is insane.
The other warning so far was his rampant violation of the No-ERP rule. I'm friends with one of the mods on the Discord, and they showed me a thread of him writing a lengthy scene between two of his Tuppers in the public channels, after being told he couldn't. I've seen a lot worse, but it wasn't pleasant to read over regardless.
This adventure is still ongoing, I'll be sure to post more Clyde Stories if you liked this one. Why he hasn't been banned from both yet, I have no idea, but it makes for amazing tales.

submitted by Purple_Tuxedo to BadRPerStories [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:04 VeterinarianIll1917 Guide for Split 2!

I've been testing out some of the items on the PBE since the release and I was optimistic at first, but it appears that gp lost build diversity in items based on what's good and if you're going 100% crit. One parts are fixed as well if you haven't caught the news and will release next patch. My aim is to help you guys out in the next split. This is the first guide I've made for League, I welcome feedback and questions. I can provide more context if needed.
Runes:
Inspiration: Changes look mostly fine, futures market will be missed though for early sheen purchases. Keystone: First strike should be an obvious choice for your keystone. 1st slot: Footwear is fine if you don't need to take boots early, otherwise cashback is going to be the default. They're both "meh" runes as the most gold you can gain from cashback is 204 on ie purchase. So try to back with a little extra gold to pick up a component with it. 2nd slot: BIS for 2nd slot is biscuits. The sustain from biscuits will allow you to play more agro in lane and you can take more trades. Timewarp's extra health on pots isn't nearly as valuable, just don't take this rune. Triple tonic is more niche. If you're used to this rune you can still take it, just play more conservatively with mana. 3rd slot: BIS for 3rd slot is cosmic. On a standard crit build you will have around 7 or 8 individual stats on items meaning we will not be able to make full use out of jack of all trades. Approach velocity has it's arguments as gp has good slows and likes to get into melee for a passive proc, but cosmic in general is better. Cosmic will wiggle in more sheen procs in your combos and the low cds on sums is strong for gp who is reliant on flash for an escape.
Precision: We have more options in precision next split, cutdown changes are big for us. Keystone: I haven't done enough testing with pta yet, but I don't think it's viable. Conq works only with a bruiser build, it could be our answer to tanks with the cutdown changes and our lack in lifesteal. Fleet's healing ate a nerf but it's k. Fleet is the default keystone in precision for now and overall gps safest rune to blind. 1st slot: Absorb life is hype! Synergizes perfectly with gp. The healing from this rune will be on par with fleet throughout the game. Take this rune if you're not concerned with mana. Presence of mind enables you to be more liberal with your q and w. Triumph is the worst of the 3. You won't be able to make frequent use of it throughout the game and we have better options for sustain. 2nd slot: Haste is the best. We build tri now, so we don't need the extra attack speed from alacrity. Blood line is viable, but it doesn't come online until after lane. Mostly an invisible rune. 3rd slot: I recommend last stand. You gain the most dmg amp with this rune and it's strong for early fights. Cut down would be better if it was enough to one shot squishy targets. Still useful early game to get an hp lead and zone the enemy toplaner off farm. Coup de grace has synergy with your r and collector.
Resolve: Resolve looks the same as last season, some notes on grasp though. Keystone: While I understand that I may lose some of you here, grasp isn't that bad and hasn't been that bad. I frequently run grasp, win lane, and win game with it. We lost corrupting pot, so it's a bit harder to stay in combat to charge it's proc. The dps is better now though as we get health on trinity. Furthermore, we don't have to worry about giant slayer passive anymore for our dps. You can build health again on gp freely. 1st slot: Demolish every time. You're only running this if you're going grasp though. If you're running resolve secondary, the other two slots have better options as gp excels at killing towers naturally. 2nd slot: Match up specific. Bone plating is better if you're hugging barrels throughout lane. If you're against someone who can proc it easily, take second wind. Rumble, and Teemo are good examples to take second wind. Darius and Riven are good examples to take boneplating. Keep in mind that the fleet page is strong into range. Sometimes better off just hitting them harder or out-sustaining, than trying to build defensively. Vayne is an example where fleet is better and ignore resolve completely. 3rd slot: Overgrowth is BIS. Revitalize doesn't do much for gp, not very noticeable. Unflinching is op into certain champions. I take unflinching into Riven, and Aatrox. Maybe Kennen, but I haven't played against to many Kennens in general.
Domination: Mostly a secondary page 1st slot: Taste of blood out-performs cheap shot and is easier to proc. You can only proc sudden impact on flash, don't take it. 3rd slot: The entire point of taking the domination page on ad gp is to snowball with treasure hunter and your already dummy strong gold gen. Really strong for smurfing, but isn't the safest option. Don't take this into hard match ups or if you're new to gp. Ultimate hunter is good for ap gp or macro play. I've used this style in tournaments where I get forced weakside and played passively through lane. Consider this style in a 5 man comp, not for solo q. It's not good for personally carrying the game.
Sorcery: Another secondary page 1st slot: If you're really struggling with gps mana pool early, mana flow band is the nail in the coffin for you. It's not the best option for gp, but can help with newer players. Obsolete with essence. 2nd slot: All 3 of these runes are useful. Combining legend haste with transcendence gives you 25 ability haste on your basic abilities when fully stacked. Transcendence is worth considering. Absolute focus is pretty straight forward, more ad on gp is never a bad thing. Combines well with gathering storm for a strong mid-late game. Celerity is weird rune to see on gp but you can run it. Celerity gives some extra help for spacing, enables you to sell boots in the late game, makes your passive ms and raise morale ms stronger. It's worth a try, but the other two options fit better into your builds. 3rd slot: Gathering storm is BIS. Scorch is better in the early game. If you can't build a lead with it, don't run it.
Shards: Go attack speed, adaptive force, flat health. The attack speed makes your lvl 1 cheese better, cs better and helps your early barrel output. The 10% attack speed is better earlier than legend alacrity (3-18%) in the precision tree. By the time you stack alacrity, you should already have trinity completed which gives you more than enough attack speed.
Possible Pages:
https://preview.redd.it/snaww0pxlg0d1.png?width=649&format=png&auto=webp&s=cb124570f0547626561533c2495fca68dbce5817
Generic Fleet page: This page gives you staying power in lane and can be utilized for going lethal in lane by poking them down while staying healthy. All in at around half hp. Use biscuits when you're oom or getting low on hp. They refill 8% of your missing health and mana. Try to get kills with this page
https://preview.redd.it/w8bxrdzvmg0d1.png?width=651&format=png&auto=webp&s=b6eebd22cca9524abdac13ab1527d65ea140825e
High Haste page: Less early all in power than the previous page for more haste and scaling. Has good staying power as well. Similar game plan as the first, but you can afford to play passive with this page if needed. Take pom for early mana sustain.
https://preview.redd.it/dqt8y9j9pg0d1.png?width=631&format=png&auto=webp&s=1665f2e96aa49fd0531ae55f75bcd629a4f65d6a
Grasp page: Similar to fleets playstyle, this page is very strong for shoving after you kill your laner. Gives you scaling hp throughout the game, making you harder to burst. Look for early all ins after poking a few times. Proc melee grasp with your passive when possible. Worthwhile page for splitting.
https://preview.redd.it/jwzd7l8uqg0d1.png?width=645&format=png&auto=webp&s=ac735c138f8e530eb021bd07617b0e8835d6fbf2
Generic First Strike page: Worse early game for a better mid/late game. You're playing to zone, poke, and scale with this page. Try not to get tagged first, as you lose both boneplating and first strike. If you proc first strike, it's safe to walk up and hit them with as much dmg as you can. Boneplating will soak up their dps as they retaliate. Try to use boneplating aggressively. Good into melee, terrible into range.
https://preview.redd.it/5gdv6wlcsg0d1.png?width=658&format=png&auto=webp&s=7b6fc829e157d6c59afd131f4c35ee950abb5569
Hail Mary: You're either playing on a smurf account or are playing incredibly passive. You can climb on this page, but it's boring and risky. You're taking magical footwear as you gain free boots and you gain them sooner on kills. You should be looking to use r on your teammates plays to get boots faster and to proc treasure hunter. Otherwise you're farming. Poke when fs is up. You can take all ins once you've established a lead. This page is a gamble in low elo. If you get camped, you're screwed. If any of your teammates are inting before you get a lead, you're screwed. The gold gen on this page isn't enough to contend with the 10/1 Draven. You should look to get fed in lane if you can. These runes do not support early game trading well. When this page works out though, the enemy team will ff as you gain a massive lead for playing with your feet all game.
Items: What we've all been waiting for! Build order is highly dependent on what you need. Keep in mind that the new crit items give 25% crit. Cloak stacking isn't very good anymore and you're better off just finishing your items for this reason. Cull is still fine in passive lanes.
ASS: Shieldbow, Yun Tal Wildarrows. Shieldbow's lifesteal was removed. The shield on it is pathetic. This item doesn't do much for us anymore. Go resolve. Yun Tal Wildarrows is the new ad crit item that applies a dot on our crits. So first you need high crit chance to make good use out of this item. 2nd the dot has 35% total ad scaling on it. The damage on the dot is lacking for a singular proc. 3rd the dot doesn't proc on barrels. This item is only good if you can keep applying the dot and GP can't. It's better on yas, yone, and tryn.
1st slot: Trinity force is the best option in all builds besides full ap. No better option. I've tried going sheen into crit to see if it's a better spike, it's not. Go tri force next split 1st item. 2nd slot: Essence Reaver, Collector, LDMortal or Shojin. Essence Reaver is going to be best in slot 2nd for most builds. Your mana issues are solved with this item and the stats gp wants are all in this item. You're going collector 2nd if you can skip Essence Reaver. If you're fine on mana and haste, collector is better the sooner you get it. The lethality is better early game when champions are lower leveled and you don't make much use of the 25 gold on kills late game. Way better item for snowballing than Essence Reaver. LDR or Mortal reminder depending on if you need grievous. We go pen 2nd item into a tank top and tank jg. Overkill if there is only 1 tank. Shojin is better when you're behind and you're going to struggle getting your items. The haste, dmg amp, and health will make your dps consistent and will make you more survivable. Shojin sucks going 2nd as gp scales heavily with crit and this pushes back your spike. Again it's only good from behind. 3rd slot: Infinity Edge, LDMortal or Collector. Infinity Edge is best built as your 2nd crit item. IE is more valuable with more crit. Infinity Edge offers nothing, but it's ad when you don't crit. We build CollectoLDMortal here if you built shojin 2nd for the reasoning of Infinity edge. 4th slot: Collector, LDMortal, Essence Reaver or Infinity Edge Depends on what you've built already. If you skipped ER in the 2nd slot, you can build it again here. This is the last point in which you should get collector. 5th slot: LDMortal, Shojin. At this point you're deciding if you're going to sell boots or not. If you are, pick up shojin now. GP loves damage amp and it's going to be scarce for us next season. 6th slot: Navori. Navori gives attack speed, movement speed, and crit now. It's a viable option for selling boots and opening your build up to another non crit option other than trinity. Combined with your high haste from your other items and runes, you will have infinite barrels. Niche usage
Example builds:
https://preview.redd.it/j6vy7asbfh0d1.png?width=434&format=png&auto=webp&s=122f36a2515a58d4e07c8766d4ab8f236cffc6ff
Gp's Most Realistic Build Split 2: This is his strongest, most consistent build.
https://preview.redd.it/0nhb89tdgh0d1.png?width=449&format=png&auto=webp&s=246efbc51fe1b8b681927efaa08387a5cb183006
Scuffed the Early Game: Building Shojin early for it's constancy. Utilizing collector to yoink kills to get us back into the game.
https://preview.redd.it/9332sajahh0d1.png?width=431&format=png&auto=webp&s=600038db1e1bfdb1b9959f3af61a22291145497d
Max Barrel Output: You're going this build in the advanced late game and you can afford to sacrifice ms for greater dmg and cooldowns. Sell boots for Navori. Collector and LDR are interchangeable depending on the enemy comp.
https://preview.redd.it/k2cug6jpih0d1.png?width=431&format=png&auto=webp&s=cac06001f611272adae27f2a14c35ca3c775737e
Snowball build: Similar to the first build, looking to pick up more kills early with collector.
Boots: Ionian's, Swifties, and Caps. Caps into all ad comps, ionian's and swifties are preference based.
Starting Items: Doran's blade is always good, Doran's shield into matchups you get poked. Longsword refillable is weak, but better if you're playing passively.
Conclusion: I'm curious to see if rito is going to look into gp this split. His item pool is actually looking smaller now. No more Bloodthirster, Shieldbow, or Navori for the most part. Welcome back Trinity though. The phage proc is nice.

submitted by VeterinarianIll1917 to gangplankmains [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 03:03 Glacialfury [WP] As a veteran mech operator, your least favorite part of the job is giving the new “recruits” their orientation... and having to lie through your teeth the entire time.

“As you know, each mech is programmed to its operator's DNA,” Hector walked through the armor vault with a small group of green-boots trailing behind him. “Once linked, nobody else can operate your armor without command authority override.”
The armor vault was ten stories high, the distant ceiling crisscrossed with the immense cranes and rails used to move the powered-down mechs in and out of the bays. Crossing from one side to the other took ten minutes at a brisk walk. Every inch of the place was filled with twenty-foot-tall mechs mounted in their bays, and all of the gear and machinery required to repair and optimize them for battle.
Hector used to feel shame for lying to the newbies and had dulled that terrible ache at the bottom of a bottle. Orders were orders.
These days, he was rather numb to it, resigned to the fact that 90% of the raw recruits that came through his orientation would be compost within a year. Perhaps less.
He stopped, turned and clasped his hands behind his back. The green-boots stopped with him.
They were young, babies in uniform, their battle dress crisply pressed and boots polished to a mirror shine. The room continued to spin for Hector, and he covered his sudden loss of balance by leaning against an armor bay strut and casually pointing up at the mech. “See that prismatic shine over the armor?”
The recruits nodded, craning their faces to peer up at the mech.
“Know what that is?”
“Stealth coating, sir,” an eager young woman with short-cropped black hair and skin nearly as dark raised her hand and spoke.
“Very good,” he said, pleased that his words weren’t slurred even a little. “That coating is a retrofit. The Nek’s can’t see through it.” He met each fresh young gaze, and all he saw were corpses. All he spoke was lies. “Makes us ghosts on the battlefield.” Not exactly a lie, but misleading for sure.
“How does it work, sir?” A young man with fiery hair and just enough fuzz on his face to warrant the purchase of a razor asked from the rear.
“Shit if I know, son,” Hector had to piss, bad. Time to wrap this up. “All I know is the casualty rates dropped to 1% of pre-retrofit high.” Another lie. He forced on a confident and reassuring smile. Wise and fatherly, he fancied. “And our kill ratio of the enemy climbed 165%.” Lie.
He needed a shot of bourbon. Fuck he had to piss.
“Each of you will go to your assigned armor bay for encoding once this tour is done. There, your op officer will walk you through the armor initialization process. Then, you will be assigned to your units. With any luck, you’ll be out there killing Nek’s within a week.” He beamed his gigawatt smile. “Any questions?” Wonder if they have that imported scotch in the officer’s lounge tonight?
Hector’s eyes wandered across the bay to the door leading out of the vault to the hallway that would carry him across the base to his comfort waiting in a bottle.
“How many kills you got, sir?”
Hector swallowed back his longing, squeezed his bladder shut so he didn’t piss down his leg, and fastened hard eyes on the fool who’d asked the question. He put his face an inch from the asshole’s nose. The kid’s eyes went wide and fearful. He instinctively snapped to attention.
“Never ask that question. Ever.” Hector saw flecks of saliva pepper the kid’s face, but he didn’t care. Fucking fool. Everyone knows it’s bad luck to ask a man that. “Understand, shit for brains?”
The kid swallowed hard. Hector realized the rest of the recruits were at attention, too. He waded back from the battering waves of his anger, fought himself back to calm.
“Bad luck,” he said to the kid. “All of you, you’re dismissed.”
They did an about-face and hurried off to their respective bays, some muttering and glancing back over their shoulders. Fuck’em. He didn’t care. This time next month, half would be dead or laid up in some battlefield infirmary with grievous wounds. He couldn’t afford to care.
Not anymore.
Damn he needed a drink. He smacked his mouth and pulled a hand down his face. Why was he here? Why him? He watched the new recruits fade off into the distance and for a heartbeat, he hoped they would survive the coming horrors. Hoped to see them again, at least a few.
Memory stirred.
Fire and blood and death on a distant world with no name, flickered around the edge of his thoughts. He growled and forced it away. Why him and not them?
Fuck it.
He sighed, hardened his heart and turned toward the latrine. If he waited any longer he’d spring a leak. Hope they have that imported scotch. So smooth. Have to piss. Why me?
Tonight, he’d pay the price for a full bottle.
Tonight, he hoped to wake from this nightmare.

submitted by Glacialfury to Glacialwrites [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 02:39 Krixwell Homebrew Townsfolk: Weaver

Weaver (Townsfolk): Once per game, choose two players (not yourself); you learn whether they are either both Townsfolk or Demons, or both Outsiders or Minions. [+0 to +1 Outsider]

The Weaver is best described as a perpendicular Seamstress. Instead of dividing by alignment and checking whether two players are on the same side, the Weaver divides by "minor" vs "major" characters on each team. Outsiders and Minions go together as minor characters, while Townsfolk and Demons go together as major.
So for a given pair of players chosen, these combinations can give a (sober, healthy and unvortoxed) Weaver a "yes":

Townsfolk + Townsfolk
Townsfolk + Demon
Demon + Demon
Outsider + Outsider
Outsider + Minion
Minion + Minion
any + living Legion
any + Recluse (might)
any + Spy (might)

While these can give a "no":

Townsfolk + Outsider
Townsfolk + Minion
Outsider + Demon (except living Legion)
Minion + Demon (except living Legion)
any + Recluse (might)
any + Spy (might)

Naturally the most important thing for the Weaver is to find out what each person in the ping is claiming and whether the combination lines up with their result.
For example, if they have a "yes" on two players, but one is claiming Townsfolk and the other Outsider, the information suggests one of them is lying. If the Outsider claim seems to be true, the "Townsfolk" is likely either a Minion or an Outsider with some cause to claim Townsfolk (such as a Mutant, a Drunk or a Damsel). If the Townsfolk claim seems to be true, the "Outsider" may very well be the Demon. Or perhaps they're both Minions. Or the Weaver is droisoned.
With claimed character types being this important to figuring out Weaver information, the Weaver being on a script would likely have a similar effect as the Chambermaid (albeit less pronounced), in incentivizing evil players to pick their claims carefully. While the potential of a Chambermaid makes them have to think about waking patterns, the Weaver more straightforwardly encourages Demons to claim Townsfolk and Minions to claim Outsiders.
I think the Weaver would be relatively weak on their own due to the sheer variety of worlds their info can reflect, but quite strong when combined with other pieces of information to narrow down which worlds are relevant.

Interactions of note

Townsfolk

Alchemist: Often, a public Alchemist raises the question of whether they're just the Minion whose ability they mimic. This is a situation where the Weaver could definitely come in handy.
Balloonist: The Balloonist and Weaver absolutely want to work together if they can. If the Weaver checks any two of the Balloonist pings, it cuts the number of possible arrangements of the Balloonist info in half. Meanwhile the Weaver can rule out "both the same character type", making a Weaver "yes" an extra strong Seamstress "no" on both the chosen players and on the other two Balloonist pings. Of course, both characters are highly vulnerable to droison or early death, but if they can avoid that and trust each other, they have the potential to be a major game-solving engine. And then it turns out Balloonist was a Demon bluff.
Cannibal, Philosopher, Pixie, Professor: Additional Weaver pings are a massive boost, especially if the pings overlap. The transitive property turns overlapping pings into webs – A+B "yes", B+C "no" logically implies A+C "no".
Librarian, Washerwoman, Investigator: The Weaver might benefit from picking the two players in a Librarian, Washerwoman or Investigator ping, because knowing that one of the two is supposed to be a particular character type, even if they don't know which one, is incredibly helpful for figuring out Weaver information, and says something about what the other half of the ping is. For example, a "yes" on two players who are also in a Librarian ping theoretically indicates the other player in the ping is either another Outsider or a Minion, even if both are claiming Townsfolk. Hey, town, what's that Outsider count looking like?
Seamstress: Naturally, Seamstress and Weaver info go well together too. If they pick the same players, either or both of them getting a "no" narrows the chosen players down to one of two combinations of character types, while both getting a "yes" means the players are the same character type.
Banshee, Nightwatchman, Slayer, Virgin: These characters can hard confirm themselves (and another player in the Virgin's case) to the Weaver as Townsfolk, making them excellent choices for the Weaver – a "yes" on a confirmed Townsfolk and someone else confirms the latter as not a Minion (or hidden Outsider), and a "no" confirms them as not the Demon.

Outsiders

Lack thereof: The optional Outsider modification on the Weaver was added because in a zero Outsider game, a Weaver "no" would unambiguously mean one of the chosen players was a Minion. That's fine as OPG info, but not how I want the character to work.
Drunk: The Drunk thinks they're a Townsfolk, which means they'll most likely make a claim that contradicts the Weaver's information on them. This may paint them as a potential Minion.
Golem: The Golem can hard confirm a player as not being a Demon, and themselves as an Outsider, helping narrow down the possible meanings of Weaver info.
Goon: Naturally, the Weaver choosing the Goon (first) gets drunk, and is likely to learn the opposite of the correct information just because the ST can do that.
Lunatic: The Lunatic thinks they're a Demon, so while they won't necessarily claim a role that contradicts the Weaver like the Drunk probably will, they might find themself either wondering why the Weaver seems to have misinformation on them, or drawing wrong conclusions about the other end of the ping. The funniest such possibility might be the Weaver learning a "yes" on the Lunatic and one of the Lunatic Minions.
Mutant: The Mutant might wind up hard confirmed as an Outsider, making them an anchor for the Weaver – although before that they're likely to be claiming Townsfolk and throwing things off, much like the Drunk.
Recluse: Recluse gonna Recluse. Since the Recluse can register as three of the character types, Weaver info on a Recluse is arbitrary.

Minions

Evil Twin: Whether the Weaver info is useful for untangling a twin pair depends entirely on whether the good twin is a Townsfolk or an Outsider.
Marionette: The Marionette behaves much like the Drunk here if they think they're a Townsfolk. Weaver information can distinguish the Drunk or the Marionette from a Townsfolk, but it can't distinguish between a Drunk and a Marionette.
Spy: Spy gonna Spy. Behaves just like the Recluse.
Vizier: The Vizier is a confirmed Minion, making them a good anchor point for the Weaver.

Demons

Al-Hadikhia, Shabaloth: See the group of Townsfolk including Professor above. The Weaver can get good mileage out of being resurrected.
Legion: Legion as written doesn't leave the ST a choice; it's inherently registering both as a Demon and as a Minion at all times while alive. This means the Weaver always gets a "yes" on living Legion.
* The question the Weaver asks is "are they either both Townsfolk or Demons, or both Outsiders or Minions". If the other player is a Townsfolk or another Demon, it's a "yes" because Legion is a Demon; if they're an Outsider or a Minion (that somehow coexists with Legion), it's a "yes" because Legion necessarily registers as a Minion. If two Legion are picked, the Weaver ability actually evaluates to "yes, both", though of course you wouldn't tell the player that.
* Because of this behavior, getting a Weaver "no" between living players (a Townsfolk and an Outsider) in a Legion game would be a huge deal, as a snipe that clears a sizable chunk of the good team from the Weaver's perspective. This also makes "Weaver with a no" a solid bluff for Legion players, though.
Riot: Unjinxed, the Weaver in a Riot game becomes an Outsider detector, since it's obvious from the first nomination onward that the game has no Minions. A Weaver "no" must then be between an Outsider and either Riot or a Townsfolk.

Travelers

In general: The ability could've said "(not yourself or Travelers)" because Travelers don't really fit into the framework the ability bases itself on. But that's unnecessary clunk – the logical answer to the ability's question is always going to be "no" if one of the chosen players is in neither group of character types. The only way to get a "yes" on a Traveler is if there's a Vortox or the Weaver is droisoned, and that response says absolutely nothing about the other chosen player's character. I'm fine with the Weaver sometimes having the option to sacrifice their single piece of info to check for a Vortox instead.
Barista 1: As an OPG ability with already puzzling info, the Weaver is very vulnerable to droison, misregistration and vortoxing, so throwing the unspent Weaver a Barista 1 might help give them some confidence.
Barista 2, Bone Collector: See Cannibal, Philosopher, Pixie and Professor above.

submitted by Krixwell to BloodOnTheClocktower [link] [comments]

http://rodzice.org/