Fox racing earings
Fox Racing
2020.02.12 19:08 CSMsam Fox Racing
A place to talk about Fox's gear products and more
2012.02.03 05:45 NinjaSix50 America Le Mans Series
A place for Reddit's ALMS fans to talk about the series as well as the famous 24 Hours of Le Mans!
2013.01.13 23:26 derfdog A community devoted to 99-04 Mustangs
All about any and all New Edge Mustang. Pics, specs, modifications, repair questions, all is welcome as long as it relates to the New Edge
2024.05.16 22:15 rpkat [F4M or anyone playing M] Female F1 Driver x Team Principal
ALL CHARACTERS AND PARTNERS ARE 18+.
Hi there! I’m 26, central US timezone, and female! Title is self explanatory. Looking for roleplay between a female F1 driver and her team principal. Also willing to switch your character’s role to mechanic, press officer, etc. Looking for lots of drama and romance. Drama between the media, the team, and fans as their relationship grows more and more off track and gets exposed to the real world.
THIS IS SAFE FOR WORK ONLY.
Message me with your age, timezone (US Timezones or similar are preferred), and a sample of your writing!
Partner requirements: must be 23-35 - Must play male (IRL gender doesn’t matter)- write in third person - at least two paragraphs - I only write on Discord - must be able to post once a day to every other day. Communication is key, please let me know if you’re going to be busy for longer than a day or two or if you’re no longer interested. NO AI ART OR WRITING.
All characters are 18+
Below is a sample starter if you want to use it for your sample as well! Also included after it is my character description. Team can also change!
This was possibly the most nerve wracking qualifying morning that Eliza had ever faced before. Media day and practices had already been quite overwhelming. Every news outlet wanted to talk to her, about her, and then there were all the brand and team promotions on top of what she was actually there to do. Practices had gone alright, maybe not the best, but they certainly weren’t the worst. Yet Eliza knew she could do better. Maybe it was the nerves or how exhausted she’s been feeling lately, but she needed to shake it off. People were already starting to doubt her and question the team for her joining. She needed to prove herself in this qualifying session and the race.
But first was more time with the media. It was a long morning of getting herself all dolled up. She hadn’t shown up to the paddock wearing anything but something fashionable. She was treating her entrances like a runway, similar to Lewis Hamilton, but she tried to keep it within team colors always wearing something red or with the logo. This time she opted for an all black outfit with some red and gold jewelry pieces. Her hair was straighter and her makeup done lightly, a hint of a pastel papaya colored her eyes.
Once she was done, it was hopping into her car and being driven to the track by a good friend. Alexa happily signed things once she got out of the car and made her way into the paddock, quickly scanning her badge and smiling to all the photographers that snapped her entrance as she made her way to the Ferrari hospitality for her schedule.
Character Description
Name: Eliza Conners
Occupation: Driver for Ferrari
Age: 21
Date of birth: April 4th
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight
Race: British/Swedish
Physical Appearence
Height: 5’3"
Weight: 115 lbs
Eye colour: Ocean blue
Skin colour: Fai Warm Alabaster
Hair colour: blonde
Hair style: long, mid back
Piercings: basic ears
Spoiled, dramatic, sassy, used to getting what she wants, loves all the attention being on her, hosts a mean dinner party, gives ‘The Man’ by Taylor Swift energy
Personal Sponsors: Victoria’s Secret, Dior, Chanel, Charolette Tilbury
submitted by rpkat to roleplaying [link] [comments]
Hi there! I’m 26, central US timezone, and female! Title is self explanatory. Looking for roleplay between a female F1 driver and her team principal. Also willing to switch your character’s role to mechanic, press officer, etc. Looking for lots of drama and romance. Drama between the media, the team, and fans as their relationship grows more and more off track and gets exposed to the real world.
THIS IS SAFE FOR WORK ONLY.
Message me with your age, timezone (US Timezones or similar are preferred), and a sample of your writing!
Partner requirements: must be 23-35 - Must play male (IRL gender doesn’t matter)- write in third person - at least two paragraphs - I only write on Discord - must be able to post once a day to every other day. Communication is key, please let me know if you’re going to be busy for longer than a day or two or if you’re no longer interested. NO AI ART OR WRITING.
All characters are 18+
Below is a sample starter if you want to use it for your sample as well! Also included after it is my character description. Team can also change!
This was possibly the most nerve wracking qualifying morning that Eliza had ever faced before. Media day and practices had already been quite overwhelming. Every news outlet wanted to talk to her, about her, and then there were all the brand and team promotions on top of what she was actually there to do. Practices had gone alright, maybe not the best, but they certainly weren’t the worst. Yet Eliza knew she could do better. Maybe it was the nerves or how exhausted she’s been feeling lately, but she needed to shake it off. People were already starting to doubt her and question the team for her joining. She needed to prove herself in this qualifying session and the race.
But first was more time with the media. It was a long morning of getting herself all dolled up. She hadn’t shown up to the paddock wearing anything but something fashionable. She was treating her entrances like a runway, similar to Lewis Hamilton, but she tried to keep it within team colors always wearing something red or with the logo. This time she opted for an all black outfit with some red and gold jewelry pieces. Her hair was straighter and her makeup done lightly, a hint of a pastel papaya colored her eyes.
Once she was done, it was hopping into her car and being driven to the track by a good friend. Alexa happily signed things once she got out of the car and made her way into the paddock, quickly scanning her badge and smiling to all the photographers that snapped her entrance as she made her way to the Ferrari hospitality for her schedule.
Character Description
Name: Eliza Conners
Occupation: Driver for Ferrari
Age: 21
Date of birth: April 4th
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight
Race: British/Swedish
Physical Appearence
Height: 5’3"
Weight: 115 lbs
Eye colour: Ocean blue
Skin colour: Fai Warm Alabaster
Hair colour: blonde
Hair style: long, mid back
Piercings: basic ears
Spoiled, dramatic, sassy, used to getting what she wants, loves all the attention being on her, hosts a mean dinner party, gives ‘The Man’ by Taylor Swift energy
Personal Sponsors: Victoria’s Secret, Dior, Chanel, Charolette Tilbury
2024.05.16 22:13 EmbarrassedLuna999 Into the Abyss: The Unseen Depths of The Ocean -Part 1
In a vast stretch of ocean, hidden from the prying eyes of civilization and deeper than the legendary Mariana Trench, lay the Nereus Chasm. Few knew of its existence, and fewer still had dared to plumb its shadowy depths. Dr. Elena Morris, an accomplished marine biologist and renowned explorer, was about to join those ranks.
Elena had spent years chasing whispers of the Nereus Chasm's existence from seasoned sailors and retired oceanographers, piecing together tales of a place where the ocean swallowed all light and life. Armed with her submersible, the Nautilus, designed to withstand unimaginable pressures, she was determined to uncover its secrets.
“Are you ready, Elena? Once we start this descent, we’re in the hands of the gods of the deep,” Marco, her husband and the chief engineer of the Nautilus, said with a mix of excitement and concern.
“I’ve never been readier,” Elena replied, her voice steady, betraying no hint of the nerves she felt. As the hatch sealed, she gave one last look at the sunlit world above before the descent began.
The Nautilus slipped beneath the waves, and as the light from the surface faded, the vast emptiness of the deep ocean enveloped Elena. She felt as though she was descending into another world, a place timeless and untouched.
“20,000 feet and counting,” Elena communicated to Marco, who was monitoring from the support ship Argo.
The submersible’s lights pierced the darkness, revealing fleeting glimpses of strange creatures darting out of the light's reach. Bioluminescent jellies floated past, like ghosts in a haunted house, their glow eerie in the oppressive darkness.
At 36,000 feet, Elena surpassed the known depths of the Challenger Deep. “Marco, I’m now deeper than any human has been in a submersible. There’s no turning back now.”
The only response was a crackle of static as the communication systems struggled against the depth.
40,000 feet—Elena felt a shiver run down her spine, not from cold, but from the realization that she was in a realm few had ever seen. Her sonar pinged a massive object in the distance, too structured to be a geological feature.
As she maneuvered the Nautilus closer, the object began to resolve itself into something magnificent—a creature of such colossal size that it dwarfed her vessel. Its body shimmered with a metallic sheen, tentacles longer than Elena could measure gracefully undulating as it moved through the water.
“Marco, do you see this?” Elena’s voice was filled with awe. She knew Marco couldn’t see what she saw, but she hoped her cameras were capturing every detail.
Static filled her ears, then Marco’s voice, “I’m getting some data here, but it’s choppy. Be careful, Elena.”
The creature didn’t seem aggressive. It circled the Nautilus, its giant eyes reflecting a world unknown to science. Elena realized that this sentinel of the deep was as curious about her as she was about it. For a moment, time stood still, and Elena felt a profound connection to this alien creature in the darkness.
But then, an alarm sounded in the submersible. Oxygen levels were dropping faster than expected. She had lingered too long at these depths.
Elena made the decision to ascend. “Heading up now, Marco.”
The submarine began its slow journey upwards. Elena watched the depth gauge reverse as she left the depths of the Nereus Chasm.
The submarine kept rising.
5,000 feet.
4,000 feet.
4% oxygen.
I could still do this, right? Elena thought, her heart pounding as the Nautilus continued its ascent.
The submarine continued to rise.
3%.
3,000 feet.
2,000 feet.
2%.
1,000 feet… so close… I was so close…
Communication with Marco was intermittent, the static more frequent as the pressure eased. “Marco, oxygen’s critical, but I’m nearly there.”
“Just hold on, Elena. We’re ready for you up here,” Marco’s voice crackled through, his words a lifeline as she fought the creeping dread of not making it.
As the surface neared, Elena’s pulse raced. The light from above grew brighter, a sign of the world she was fighting to return to. With each meter she ascended, survival felt more certain, yet the danger was not yet past.
The Nautilus breached the surface, gasping for air like a giant metal whale. Marco was on the radio, “Elena, open the hatch!”
Elena released the hatch, and fresh, salty air rushed in. She took deep, life-affirming breaths
submitted by EmbarrassedLuna999 to nosleep [link] [comments]
Elena had spent years chasing whispers of the Nereus Chasm's existence from seasoned sailors and retired oceanographers, piecing together tales of a place where the ocean swallowed all light and life. Armed with her submersible, the Nautilus, designed to withstand unimaginable pressures, she was determined to uncover its secrets.
“Are you ready, Elena? Once we start this descent, we’re in the hands of the gods of the deep,” Marco, her husband and the chief engineer of the Nautilus, said with a mix of excitement and concern.
“I’ve never been readier,” Elena replied, her voice steady, betraying no hint of the nerves she felt. As the hatch sealed, she gave one last look at the sunlit world above before the descent began.
The Nautilus slipped beneath the waves, and as the light from the surface faded, the vast emptiness of the deep ocean enveloped Elena. She felt as though she was descending into another world, a place timeless and untouched.
“20,000 feet and counting,” Elena communicated to Marco, who was monitoring from the support ship Argo.
The submersible’s lights pierced the darkness, revealing fleeting glimpses of strange creatures darting out of the light's reach. Bioluminescent jellies floated past, like ghosts in a haunted house, their glow eerie in the oppressive darkness.
At 36,000 feet, Elena surpassed the known depths of the Challenger Deep. “Marco, I’m now deeper than any human has been in a submersible. There’s no turning back now.”
The only response was a crackle of static as the communication systems struggled against the depth.
40,000 feet—Elena felt a shiver run down her spine, not from cold, but from the realization that she was in a realm few had ever seen. Her sonar pinged a massive object in the distance, too structured to be a geological feature.
As she maneuvered the Nautilus closer, the object began to resolve itself into something magnificent—a creature of such colossal size that it dwarfed her vessel. Its body shimmered with a metallic sheen, tentacles longer than Elena could measure gracefully undulating as it moved through the water.
“Marco, do you see this?” Elena’s voice was filled with awe. She knew Marco couldn’t see what she saw, but she hoped her cameras were capturing every detail.
Static filled her ears, then Marco’s voice, “I’m getting some data here, but it’s choppy. Be careful, Elena.”
The creature didn’t seem aggressive. It circled the Nautilus, its giant eyes reflecting a world unknown to science. Elena realized that this sentinel of the deep was as curious about her as she was about it. For a moment, time stood still, and Elena felt a profound connection to this alien creature in the darkness.
But then, an alarm sounded in the submersible. Oxygen levels were dropping faster than expected. She had lingered too long at these depths.
Elena made the decision to ascend. “Heading up now, Marco.”
The submarine began its slow journey upwards. Elena watched the depth gauge reverse as she left the depths of the Nereus Chasm.
The submarine kept rising.
5,000 feet.
4,000 feet.
4% oxygen.
I could still do this, right? Elena thought, her heart pounding as the Nautilus continued its ascent.
The submarine continued to rise.
3%.
3,000 feet.
2,000 feet.
2%.
1,000 feet… so close… I was so close…
Communication with Marco was intermittent, the static more frequent as the pressure eased. “Marco, oxygen’s critical, but I’m nearly there.”
“Just hold on, Elena. We’re ready for you up here,” Marco’s voice crackled through, his words a lifeline as she fought the creeping dread of not making it.
As the surface neared, Elena’s pulse raced. The light from above grew brighter, a sign of the world she was fighting to return to. With each meter she ascended, survival felt more certain, yet the danger was not yet past.
The Nautilus breached the surface, gasping for air like a giant metal whale. Marco was on the radio, “Elena, open the hatch!”
Elena released the hatch, and fresh, salty air rushed in. She took deep, life-affirming breaths
2024.05.16 22:13 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 100.000$+ INVENTORY. BFK Lore, Gloves Amphibious, Skeleton Fade, Bowie Emerald, BFK Auto, Gloves MF, Talon Doppler, Gloves POW, Bayo Tiger, Gut Sapphire, Stiletto MF, M9 Ultra, Ursus Doppler, Flip Doppler, M9 Stained, Nomad CW, Paracord CW, AK-47 X-Ray & A Lot More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77
★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87
★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41
★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39
⎯★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28
★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15
⎯★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93
★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18
★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83
★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04
★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41
★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25
★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80
★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96
★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79
⎯★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11
★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78
★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88
★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79
⎯★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05
★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24
★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03
★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28
★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42
★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37
★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66
★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18
★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13
★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83
★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02
★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44
★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03
⎯★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54
★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81
★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81
★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82
★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46
★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08
⎯★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48
★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12
⎯★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26
★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03
⎯★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77
★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49
★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51
★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94
★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99
★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80
★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92
★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03
★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22
★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40
★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20
★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46
⎯★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93
★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43
★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16
★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41
★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01
★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95
GLOVES
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67
★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33
★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88
★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21
⎯★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99
★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31
★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00
★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28
⎯★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29
★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73
★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32
⎯★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01
★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55
⎯★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94
★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55
WEAPONS
AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95
AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95
M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43
AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38
StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64
P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03
AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33
Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00
M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48
AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97
StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96
StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85
Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42
AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2024.05.16 21:02 Peeecee7896 Fox News Poll: Who is leading the presidential race and other frequently asked questions about 2024
 | submitted by Peeecee7896 to electionsnews [link] [comments] |
2024.05.16 20:49 Live_Opposite_8404 [M4A]The mortal and his cosmic horror
INTRODUCTION
Came back after a long time and bit of hiatus. And let's just say I've always had a peculiar taste for specific roleplays or fandoms. Lately for long time bit of more monsterly craving. And when I say that I don't mean some boring ass human with only wolf or cat ears or horns and call that a monster or different race. No that's just dumbass wearing a accessory pretty much and a wannabe.
Yes we have dark elves, werewolves, vampires and some other but where are my fans and lovers of fantasy races or better yet eldritch gods and goddesses? Am I the only one here that loves the idea of pairing a regular human character with something older then known universe, the wild fire that can never be put down and watch just how the chaotic the pairing can get. The love of the horror that came from the void transcending time and space for their love driving them into brims of insanity.
As big fan of fantasy, slown burns, wholesome yet oddly horrifying and mortal and immortal pairings and even bigger for mythos and Lovercraft's work, and with sucker for love offering that I've been wishing to try out such a play. Be it perhaps a fandom of Sucker for love or do a whole world building of our own characters.
ABOUT AND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR:
To get started I have 5 plus, yes 5 plus years of writing experience! Although I've been on quite some long hiatus due to life. I write in third person past tense in a humorous way (here and there). Best way to describe my writing is quirky but it gets to the point, it's detailed where and when it needs to be. Posts vary in size in tandem with my partners 200-400+ words a post!
Please be communicative if possible and I will do the same
I can write any level of smut up to 20-50% but there has to be SOME story and actually development along with it.
I DO NOT ACCEPT OR DO REAL LIFE FACECLAIMS.
Mainly long-term RP. Where is the fun in short? Let the story flow
Multiple Characters when need be.
Ideas Lastly are plots! (I am open to make on together too or do little changes to any.)
•Faith rebound- modern romance, supernatural, possession, crime drama, angst, dark romance.
Castiel a young compassionate priest who has just been welcomed into his position by the church of a small suburban town, for years the town has been believed to possess supernatural occurrence and properties , however it has been always rather dull and quiet, until that is the disappearances and murders that throw it into a spirale. When Castiel's predecessor and teacher is found dead, Castiel is left by him a rather odd and ancient book. But is it really just a book or a gateway to unknown?
• Your death my life. - dark romance, curse, supernatural, ghosts, eldritch horror, madness, video tape
Amias is an investigative journalist doing a piece on a reputed aaventel property that supposedly drives people who lived there for more then 10 days insane or kills them, days after moving. (Yes, it's like that movie but bit different style) because he's into that kind of spooky, mysterious shit and might save his carrier he uses his contacts to permit him taking note and tapes of the mansion while staying there his nights to find whether the myths about it are real and what truly went behind the walls.
•Even in death -Dark romance, reincarnation, stalking, driven mad
Atreyus has a stalker and he doesn't even know it. On the other side of the veil, where the unclaimed void and whispering horrors roam, he has been watched and pined for. A great being of benevolent temperament, has been in love with him for a year. Eons rather. Awaiting when their lover would be reborn yet again. Too bad he doesn't remembers his previous life and that the veil separates both. ...oh, and he already has partner. But that all changes during a horrible accident out at family's cabin over the long weekend. His little fan is just happy to have their view of him, but when in his grief Atreyus starts performing a ritual it recognizes it's chance, the god being all too quick to jump into the body at the right time. Now, the great old one can finally be reunited with their mortal like they wanted for so long. ...they just has to pretend to be their partnet and not screw up the ruse. But how long will that and the mortal body last before changes will be all too noticeable?
submitted by Live_Opposite_8404 to roleplaying [link] [comments]
Came back after a long time and bit of hiatus. And let's just say I've always had a peculiar taste for specific roleplays or fandoms. Lately for long time bit of more monsterly craving. And when I say that I don't mean some boring ass human with only wolf or cat ears or horns and call that a monster or different race. No that's just dumbass wearing a accessory pretty much and a wannabe.
Yes we have dark elves, werewolves, vampires and some other but where are my fans and lovers of fantasy races or better yet eldritch gods and goddesses? Am I the only one here that loves the idea of pairing a regular human character with something older then known universe, the wild fire that can never be put down and watch just how the chaotic the pairing can get. The love of the horror that came from the void transcending time and space for their love driving them into brims of insanity.
As big fan of fantasy, slown burns, wholesome yet oddly horrifying and mortal and immortal pairings and even bigger for mythos and Lovercraft's work, and with sucker for love offering that I've been wishing to try out such a play. Be it perhaps a fandom of Sucker for love or do a whole world building of our own characters.
ABOUT AND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR:
To get started I have 5 plus, yes 5 plus years of writing experience! Although I've been on quite some long hiatus due to life. I write in third person past tense in a humorous way (here and there). Best way to describe my writing is quirky but it gets to the point, it's detailed where and when it needs to be. Posts vary in size in tandem with my partners 200-400+ words a post!
Please be communicative if possible and I will do the same
I can write any level of smut up to 20-50% but there has to be SOME story and actually development along with it.
I DO NOT ACCEPT OR DO REAL LIFE FACECLAIMS.
Mainly long-term RP. Where is the fun in short? Let the story flow
Multiple Characters when need be.
Ideas Lastly are plots! (I am open to make on together too or do little changes to any.)
•Faith rebound- modern romance, supernatural, possession, crime drama, angst, dark romance.
Castiel a young compassionate priest who has just been welcomed into his position by the church of a small suburban town, for years the town has been believed to possess supernatural occurrence and properties , however it has been always rather dull and quiet, until that is the disappearances and murders that throw it into a spirale. When Castiel's predecessor and teacher is found dead, Castiel is left by him a rather odd and ancient book. But is it really just a book or a gateway to unknown?
• Your death my life. - dark romance, curse, supernatural, ghosts, eldritch horror, madness, video tape
Amias is an investigative journalist doing a piece on a reputed aaventel property that supposedly drives people who lived there for more then 10 days insane or kills them, days after moving. (Yes, it's like that movie but bit different style) because he's into that kind of spooky, mysterious shit and might save his carrier he uses his contacts to permit him taking note and tapes of the mansion while staying there his nights to find whether the myths about it are real and what truly went behind the walls.
•Even in death -Dark romance, reincarnation, stalking, driven mad
Atreyus has a stalker and he doesn't even know it. On the other side of the veil, where the unclaimed void and whispering horrors roam, he has been watched and pined for. A great being of benevolent temperament, has been in love with him for a year. Eons rather. Awaiting when their lover would be reborn yet again. Too bad he doesn't remembers his previous life and that the veil separates both. ...oh, and he already has partner. But that all changes during a horrible accident out at family's cabin over the long weekend. His little fan is just happy to have their view of him, but when in his grief Atreyus starts performing a ritual it recognizes it's chance, the god being all too quick to jump into the body at the right time. Now, the great old one can finally be reunited with their mortal like they wanted for so long. ...they just has to pretend to be their partnet and not screw up the ruse. But how long will that and the mortal body last before changes will be all too noticeable?
2024.05.16 20:02 Flagg1991 Children of the Night (End)
The pain was the worst thing`Dominick Mason had ever known…and he knew what it felt like to die. It felt like his brain was in a blender, being chopped to liquid for a Jeffery Dahmer smoothie and though it seemed melodramatic, he imagined he could feel himself losing brain cells by the minute. The sun, Merrick told him, would not burn him, but it would decay him faster, so sleep or rest during the day. With the sick, throbbing agony in the center of his brain, however, that was impossible. He spent most of the day curled up on his side, hugging his knees, and moaning. He had flashbacks to dying in his apartment, and that made things even worse. The room became too small, too close, the air too stale. His heart, filled with the blood of last night’s meal, pounded in his chest, and he went from slightly chilly to hot and feverish as blood was forced through his circulatory system. It mixed with the embalming fluid and left him feeling full and constipated. He didn’t want to get up, but he also didn’t want to go on lying there. He was the definition of miserable.
Before long, the pain became too great and he got up to pace, pressing his hands to the sides of his head and gritting his teeth. Merrick, who slept very little if at all, sat in his chair and watched, trying his best to talk him through it. “It’ll be over soon,” Merrick said. “The pain receptors in your brain are the first to go. When they burn out, you won’t feel anything.”
“When?” Dom asked, his voice raising with the tide of pain.
“A couple days?”
“A couple days???”
“The pain will lessen gradually,” Merrick said, “this is the worst of it.”
Dom believed that this was, indeed, the worst of it, but he doubted it would lessen gradually. For the rest of the day, the pain got worse and worse until every light blinded him, every sound turned his stomach, and the smell of anything made his gorge rise. The cloying smell of the embalming fluid, the light but unmistakable odor of dead flesh, and the scent of stale blood sitting in decomposing stomachs made him want to vomit, but he was afraid to. He didn’t think he could handle the sight of blood rushing from his mouth and splattering the floor. He still possessed enough of his facilities, he believed, to go insane.
Pain has a way of darkening one’s mood, and by the time the sun began to set, Dom was in the most sour mood possible. Even Merrick’s calm, fatherly voice was beginning to get on his nerves. When he took the oath to him the day before (or was it the day before that?), he turned his faith and trust over to Merrick entirely. He was finally accepted, included, finally had the love and fellowship that, in the pit of his soul, he had always wanted. Merrick understood him, Merrick was kind to him.
But deep down, Dom realized that he didn’t fully trust him. He said that his brain didn’t rot because he was “lucky.” That sounded like some bullshit to Dom. Why wasn’t Joe a blithering idiot too? Was he lucky as well? Did lightning strike in the same place twice? In life, people had done nothing but hurt and lie to Dom. Why would death be any different? He thought back to the strange liquid that always seemed to leak from Merrick’s nose, and Joe’s. He thought it was embalming fluid, but it never leaked from his own nose, or from anyone else’s. He tried to tell himself that it was far too soon to judge, but once he began to doubt something, his mind raced away. He felt a twinge of guilt, as Merrick had done absolutely nothing to deserve his doubt, but goddamn it, his head was on fire and he wanted it to stop. Anything to make it stop.
Just after sundown, the music began as Club Vlad opened for the night. It throbbed in the center of Dom’s head and made him want to claw his eyes out. When it became too much for him, he slipped away and stumbled into the sultry summer night. He came out in the alley running behind the club, clutching his head and breathing through bared teeth. He staggered, bumped into a metal trash can, and roared at the top of his lungs, as if he could purge himself of the pain by screaming.. His voice echoed and came back to him, making the pain worse.
Merrick was lying. He knew it. People always lied to him. His brain was rotting and PEOPLE WERE LYING! Flashing with anger, he slammed his fist into the brick wall of a Chinese restaurant. He barely felt anything so he did it again and again until his hand was lumpy and shaking. He sat heavily on the ground and pressed his hands to his head. It felt like maggots were burrowing into his brain, and he was suddenly terrified that they really were. He needed to stop this awful pain, but how?
An idea came to him.
The funeral home.
Maybe there was something there.
He was on his feet and lumbering there before the thought had even finished reverberating through his mind. It was a long shot, but he was desperate. On the way there, he stuck to the shadows, staying out of the light cast by the streetlamps and avoiding people. When he passed them, he kept his head down. When he reached the funeral home, he went to the back door where he and Jessie had gone the other day. He tried it, and it opened.
Inside, he bounced off the walls like a pinball, knocking over an end table and tearing at the flesh of his head, pulling it away in long, gray strips. He panted like a wild animal, his body a raging tempest of emotions. It was reaching a crescendo, he thought, his brain was about to go supernova. The world dimmed, things got really echoy. The young man he’d picked the embalming fluid up from was there, looking scared.
Flashing, Dom grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall, knocking a painting of a flowery field to the carpet. Everything seemed to go in slow mo. “How does Merrick keep his brain from rotting?” Dom heard himself demanding from far away. “How does he keep the pain away?”
The man trembled. “I-I-”
Dom slammed him again. “Tell me or I’ll make you like me.”
“No!” the man wailed. He shook his head from side to side, his eyes wet with fear.
“How?”
“He-He uses a solution,” the man stammered. “Some kind of special thing. It preserves his brain. That’s all I know.”
An idea occurred to Dom.
Holding the man by the back of his neck, Dom dragged him into the embalming room and pushed him against the table. His head felt like it was swelling. Hot, screaming, getting ready to explode. He looked around, found the embalming machine, and grabbed the hose. There was a sharp tip on it so that you could jam it into a body. He held it in his hand, hesitating for just a moment before pressing it to his temple. The man watched in horror as Dom slowly shoved the tip into his head. It tore his flesh, broke through his skull, and sank into his brain. He felt no pain, only pressure, but cried out anyway. His eyes rolled up into his head and a shudder went through his body.
“Turn it on!” he yelled.
“That’s not what he -”
“TURN IT ON!”
Starting, the man turned the machine on. Cold embalming fluid squirted directly into Dom’s brain. Almost at once, the pain began to ebb away, replaced only by a fuzzy sense of numbness. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, looking for all the world like an addict taking a hit of his favorite substance after a long and trying day. Fluid leaked from his nose, ears, and eyes and dripped down the back of his throat.
The man waited for a long time, then turned the machine off.
The pain was gone.
At least for now.
“Tell me again,” Dom said.
The man did. Merrick used a special preserving agent to keep his brain intact. Joe, the man suspected, got it as well. So Merrick had lied to him.
Dom felt betrayed.
And angry.
Leaving the man (Dom realized that he didn’t even know his name), he walked back to Club Vlad, his hands fisted in his pockets. All his life, he had been hurt, lied to, and ignored. All his life, people had done wrong to him. And all those years, he just took it.
He resolved not to be so accepting in death.
At last, he was going to stop being a sniveling little bitch and stand up for himself.
When he reached Club Vlad, he slammed through the back door and took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he called out Merrick’s name. The old man was sitting in his chair, being attended to by Jessie and Matt. He looked startled when Dom came in. “You lied to me,” Dom said, stalking over to his benefactor.
“What are you talking about?” Merrick asked, doing his best to sound innocent.
“You lied to me!” Dom screamed. He bent over and got so close to Merrick’s face that he could have kissed him. “You told me there was no way to save my brain, but that’s not true. You’re pumping your head full of shit and letting the rest of us rot.”
A dark shadow flickered across Merrick’s face. “Watch your tone when you talk to me,” he said. His voice was low, menacing.
“Fuck you,” Dom said. “I should k -”
Suddenly, Dom was being grabbed from behind and yanked back, an arm around his neck. He cried out in alarm as Joe swung him around and slammed him face first into the wall. He heard his nose crunch, felt his teeth shatter. Next, Joe wrestled him to the glitter-sprinkled floor and wedged his knee between his shoulder blades.
Merrick watched with a sneer of disgust, his hands gripping the arms of his chair. He wheeled himself over, Jessie holding his IV stand steady and following behind. “Listen, you son of a bitch,” Merrick said, “you’re lucky to be a part of this family.”
Cold fear filled the pit of Dom’s stomach, yet he wouldn’t back down, couldn’t back down. He had lived his entire life like a mouse in a burrow, he wasn’t about to live his entire death the same way.
“Fuck your family,” he said defiantly. “And fuck you.”
Merrick’s face darkened and he sat back in his chair. He looked at Jessie and nodded. She went away and came back a moment later holding something in her hand. Dom’s eyes widened when he saw what it was.
A wooden stake, one end honed to a razor point.
Why they had one of those lying around, Dom didn’t know; it’d be like Superman keeping a piece of kryptonite on the mantle over the fireplace. Merrick directed Max and Matt to hold Dom’s arms down/ Joe pivoted, kneeling on his head now so that Dom’s back was exposed. Dom’s heart slammed with terror and tremors raced through his body.
“Is this what you want, Dominick?” Merrick asked. “To die? To truly die?”
Dom swallowed hard. No, it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to live, to love, to have a family one day. He wanted a happy, normal life, the life TV and social media had been promising him since he was a little boy.
But all of that went out the window the night he died in his little apartment. There was no life anymore, just a grotesque parody of life. What was there for him other than death? Clinging desperately onto life for decades like Merrick? Stuffing himself full of embalming fluid and moth balls? Grinding for one more minute just so he could sit hooked up to a machine?
Dom spoke.
“What?” Merrick asked, not having heard.
Dom licked his lips. “Just fucking do it.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Expectation hung in the air. Finally, breaking the tension, Merrick nodded to Jessie. Kneeling down, she brought the stake up, and Dom closed his eyes.
This was it.
He braced himself for death.
Jessie brought the stake down just as a shot rang out, deafening in the small space. Her head whipped back, embalming fluid, skull fragments, and gray, sickly pieces of brain showering from the back of her head. She flopped back and landed on the floor with a sickening thud.
A woman cop, her black uniform in stark contrast to the burning white light, stood in the doorway to the hall, her gun drawn. Everyone did, indeed, freeze, more out of surprise than respect for authority. They all looked at her, their dead mouths agape, resembling children who’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Everyone on the ground!” she barked.
No one knew what to do. They hadn’t expected to be raided by the police so had not prepared. She jerked her gun and everyone instinctively flinched. “On the ground!” she repeated. To Max: “You too, bone boy.”
The first one to react was Joe. He sprang at her like a big, undead frog. She brought the gun around and fired, but he was already crashing into her. The shot went wild and struck the IV bag next to Merrick; he ducked and let out a sound of fear. The others rushed her, and Dom got quickly to his feet. Jessie lay on the floor, her mouth open in a silent scream and her bony fingers frantically examining the ragged hole in the center of her forehead. For a moment, he was frozen; everything was happening too fast. Then, when Merrick saw him and cried, “Stop him!, he came alive. Jessie tried to grab at his leg, but he kicked her hand away and stomped on it like it was a giant spider. On the other side of the room, Matt, Joe, and Max had forced the cop to the ground. Perhaps excited by all the action, perhaps just hungry, they began to tear her apart. She howled in pain, and the last thing Dom saw before he fled was her open, blood-filled mouth. Her eyes were filled with pain…with terror.
After that, Dom ran.
***
When the interloper was dead, Merrick directed Joe and Matt to dispose of the body. “Get rid of it,” he said wearily and rubbed his temples, “make sure it isn’t found.”
They rolled her into a carpet from the office, and the way her feet stuck out may have been comical under other circumstances.
Goddamn it, this was bad. Merrick’s entire philosophy rested on avoiding detection. He had done well in that regard. Whereas other vampires had attacked their villages and gotten themselves dug from the ground and staked, he had made it four decades. He never shat where he ate, and there is no bigger turd than killing a cop. They might dawdle on all the boys who’d gone missing - taken because their blood was stronger and more robust than the blood of girls - but they would not take a cop dying lightly at all.
Merrick owned various businesses around the country. He and the others would simply move on. Tomorrow night, they would disappear into the night. They had done it before and they would likely do it again. Once things were settled at their new base of operations, he would have Joe killed for all the trouble he’d caused.
And Dom?
Let him go.
The little rat wouldn’t last a month on his own.
“Jessie?”
Jessie sat against the wall, gazing into space.
“Jessi…start packing. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
She didn’t move, didn’t seem to hear. The shot had all but lobotomized her.
Damn it.
Joe backed the van up to the back door of Club Vlad, and then helped Matt carry the carpet-rolled body down the stairs. They loaded it in and closed the back doors. Together, they drove around looking for a place to dump it. Merrick wanted it to go unfound, but Joe doubted there was anywhere isolated enough in the city. On a whim, he drove to Washington Park, a vast expanse of green trees and shadows. There was a large pond there. It seemed the best option. They were leaving tomorrow anyway, so did it really matter?
Joe backed the van to a railing overlooking the dark water and put it in park. He and Matt got out, fetched the body, and carried it to the railing. They lifted and heaved it over. It splashed. Thus, they rid themselves of Vanessa Rodregiez.
***
Bruce sat anxiously up in his easy chair and waited for his cell to ring.
Parked in front of the TV by warm lamplight, a beer wedged between his legs, he’d been watching the 11’o’clock news when the phone rang. He picked it up and it was Vanessa. “Hey,” she said, “I think I found our body?”
“Which one?” Bruce asked and took a drink. “We have a lot of those these days.”
“Dominick Mason.”
Bruce sat forward in his chair. “Dead Dom? Where?”
“He just came out of a funeral home, ironically enough.”
“That sounds about right,” Bruce said. “Where are you now?”
“I’m following him east on Central.”
“Are you sure it’s him?” Bruce asked.
“I think so, but I’m not sure. I’ll call you back when I’m done.”
Bruce sat the phone aside and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
At some point, he fell asleep sitting up, his head lulled to one side and his mouth open. He snorted himself awake, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. He checked his phone and was perturbed to see that it was past 2am.
Vanessa hadn’t called.
He dialed her number and let the phone ring until it went to voicemail. Sighing, he ended the call, then waited a few minutes and called again.
Still no answer.
It was possible she had forgotten. Maybe the guy turned out to not be Dead Dom after all. She followed some random guy around, realized it, and that was that. Hell, she was probably too embarrassed to call and tell him about it.
Something told him that wasn’t right, however.
There was something else going on here.
Something…darker.
Just before 3am, his phone rang. He snatched it off the end table next to the chair and answered it. It was Burt, the night sargent. “Rodriguez is missing,” he said simply.
Bruce’s heart sank. “Missing?”
“Yeah, she hasn’t checked in for hours and she isn’t answering calls.”
“I’m on my way,”
Bruce tore through the house, pulling on his uniform, socks, and shoes in less time than it took a Daytona 500 pit crew to service a car. In ten minutes he was speeding down 787, the Albany skyline rising in the distance. As he hurried to the station, he thought back to his last conversation with Vanessa. She’d found Dom the Dead Man, the “corpse” who’d scared Ed Harris out of a 20 year career. Despite all their talk about vampires and the living dead, Bruce didn’t believe it, not really. Even so, he was sure that Dominick Mason had done something to Vanessa.
He checked in at the station before doing anything else. They had triangulated Vanessa’s last known location via cell towers. Cops were already out searching the streets for her. Bruce went out as well, intending to start from her last known position and work his way east on Central. The closest funeral home was Tebbutt and Frederick on Central. There was also Lasak & Gigliotti on North Allen Street. Bruce didn’t know which one Vanessa had seen Dom come out of, so he checked both.
Both were deserted at this hour.
Undeterred, Bruce drove up and down Central Ave. At one point, he noticed a shape in an alleyway that looked human. He hit the brakes, jumped out, and pointed his gun at it. “Freeze!”
An old wino stepped out of the darkness. “Alright, you got me,” he said, hands up. “I started COVID. It was an accident, I swear.”
Bruce sighed and put his gun away.
For two more hours, Bruce searched the streets of Albany for Vanessa. At 4am, he spotted a squad car abandoned in the rear parking lot of an abandoned gas station on lower Lark Street. He called it in and the desk sergeant confirmed that it was the one Vanessa had signed out that night.
Still there was no sign of Vanessa herself.
Just after dawn, as the city came alive and CDTA buses began lumbering up and down the streets, Bruce got a call on his cell. “A jogger found a body in Washington Park.”
Bruce was in his personal car. He had no bubble light, no siren. Even so, he sped through the streets like he did, blowing through red lights and stop signs with little care to himself or anyone else. When he got to Washington Park, he found an army cops by the pond, the scene cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. He slammed on the brakes, threw open the door, and jumped out without even turning off the engine.
The body was rolled up in a carpet and lying on the bank. Two beat cops unrolled it at Bruce’s direction. “We should wait for -” one of them started, but Bruce cut him off.
“Do it.”
They compiled, and at the carpet’s center, like a rotten cream filling, was the body of Vanessa Rodregiuez. Her head was tilted to one side, her eyes wide and staring. Her throat had been mangled and ripped away, her head nearly severed. Even in the black and red mess, Bruce could make out the teeth marks and puncture wounds. They may have looked like something else to anyone else who saw them, but he knew, in that moment, what they were dealing with.
A sharp pang of horror sliced through him, and his knees went weak.
“Jesus Christ,” one of the beat cops drew.
Bruce fell to, rather than knelt on, one knee. He bent over the body, a mixture of horror and grief welling his throat. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her in death, but he stayed his hand. Instead, he visually examined the body. She had bruises on her face, defensive wounds on her hands, and her gun was gone. Whoever had attacked her, she put up a fight.
Something glinted on her pants.
“What’s that?” one of the cops asked.
“I dunno,” the other replied, “but it’s all over the carpet.”
Indeed, there were glinty little specks all over it, winking like mocking eyes. Nice work, eh? We really fucked her up, didn’t we? Wink wink.
“It looks like…”
The other cop cut him off. “Glitter.”
Bruce flashed back to his visit to Club Vlad the other day.
There had been glitter everywhere.
Bruce stood up.
He had work to do.
***
Instead of going back to the station to start his shift, Bruce went to Lowes. There, he bought a mallet, a gas can, and a dozen sticks of wood. An employee in a blue vest used a machine to sharpen them to a wicked point and he took his purchases to the car. Next, he drove over to the Mobil station and filled the gas can. He was so hellbent on revenge that he sprang for premium, the good stuff. No expense shall be spared.
His final stop was at a Catholic church. He filled a canteen with holy water from the marble font by the door, then swiped a crucifix from the wall. He stopped by the station, went inside, and grabbed a black duffle bag with POLICE written across the front in yellow. He opened the gun cabinet in his office, took out a shotgun, and loaded it with shells. He grabbed a handful from the box and stuffed them into his pocket.
He was just finishing up when Bertha came in. “There you are,” she spat, “I’ve waited long enough for you to do something. I demand -”
Bruce shoved the duffle bag into her arms. “Make yourself useful.”
“What?” she demanded.
“We’re going to get your granddaughter,” Bruice lied. Kind of.
Bertha’s demeanor changed. “Good. It’s about time. I was starting to think you were a complete incompetent.”
Bruce didn’t answer. Outside, he plucked the bag out of Bertha’s hands and tossed it into the backseat. He slipped behind the wheel and Bertha sat in the passenger seat. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Club Vlad,” Bruce said and started the engine.
“I want all of them arrested.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bruce said.
She barked orders the entire way there. Bruce was so deep in his thoughts that he barely heard her. The image of Vanessa’s ruined throat and terror-twisted face haunted him, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. Hot tears filled his eyes but he blinked them back and forced himself to calm down.
I’ll cry when I’m done killing, he thought.
A few minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of Club Vlad. It was a hot and sunny day and the place seemed even more ominous because of it. The windows were black, the front cast in perpetual shadows by the old marquee from when it used to be a theater. The place was surely closed, but Bruce could hear music still playing from inside, some techno dance bullshit. “Alright,” he said, “let’s go.”
Getting out, he slung the dufflebag over his shoulder and carried the shotgun, the canteen full of holy water clasped to his belt. Bertha carried the gas can, looking confused. “Why do we need this?” she asked.
“We’re burning the place down.”
Bertha blinked in surprise…then an evil grin carved across her face. “That’ll show the bastards.”
Unlike last time, the door was locked. Bruce used the butt of the shotgun to break the glass, then reached inside and unlocked the door, being careful not to cut himself. This was the point of no return. What he had in mind would probably get him kicked off the force or even thrown in jail - and we all know how tough jail can be for a former barnaclehead. The memory of Vanessa’s contorted face pushed him on, however.
He’d suffer any consequences he needed to just so long as he got the sons of bitches who did this to her.
Inside, the club was cool and cave-like. Strobe lights flashed, on and off, black and white, dazzling Bruce’s eyes. The bartender was at his station, cleaning up from the night before. When he saw Bruce and Bertha come in, he started. Bruce pointed the shotgun at him. “Don’t fucking move,” he commanded.
The bartender hesitated, then reached for something under the bar.
The shotgun kicked in Bruce’s hands, and the bartender flew back, turning as he crashed into the barback. Bottles, glasses, and mugs crashed to the floor along with the bartender. Bruce racked the gun, and the shell flew out. He moved low and fast now, expecting to be swarmed by vampires, living thugs who worked for vampires, or vampire thugs who worked for themselves.
Though the shot had been like thunder, no one came.
Bruce had no idea where to go, but he imagined that vampires were naturally gravitate to the lowest part of the building. Was there a basement? Shit, he should have looked up the building plans at city hall. Damn, this is what happens when you go off half-cocked. He searched around a bit, opening doors and sweeping the rooms beyond with the shotgun. He found no basement, only stairs leading up. “Stay close,” he said to Bertha.
In the lead, Bruce crept up the stairs, the flashlight on the shotgun providing a cone of clean, white light. At the top of the stairs, he went right, and came to an office and a store room. Backtracking, and bumping into a bungling Bertha, he went into the next room. It was large and open with a vaulted ceiling, almost like a ballroom. Here the same strobe lights throbbed on and off, making him dizzy. Was this to dazzle prospective vampire hunters?
Either way, this was the place. Bodies lay strewn across the floor, some curled up on their sides and others in the classic vampire pose: Flat on their backs with their hands laced over their chests. In the center, like the sun to the planets, Merrick Garvis lay slumped back in his wheelchair, his neck exposed for any potential assassin to come and cut. Not that it would kill him. At least Bruce didn’t think it would.
“They’re all dead,” Bertha whispered. She looked around and gasped. “There’s Jessie.”
Jessie lay on her back, her hands folded on her chest. She had a ragged bullet hole in the center of her forehead. “Oh, God,” Bertha wavered, “someone shot her.”
He hoped it was Vanessa. And he hoped it fucking hurt.
Looking around, Bruce couldn’t find Dominick Mason. Was he the one who killed Vanessa? Was it a group effort? He wanted the little son of a bitch bad, but it looked like he’d have to go on without him. They didn’t have much time.
Unshouldering the duffle bag, he knelt down and rummaged around. “Start splashing that gas on the bodies,” he said.
“But -”
“Just do it,” he snapped.
There must have been a harder edge in his voice than normal, because Bertha jumped and did as she was told. She upended the can and began to splash gasoline onto the sleeping forms, the smell of it acrid and strong.
Taking out a stake and the mallet, Bruce went over to Merrick and knelt down. He gripped the stake in one hand and placed it firmly against Merrick’s chest. He brought the mallet up and hesitated, the gravity of what he was doing finally reaching him. What if he was wrong? What if -
Merrick’s head whipped up and their eyes locked.
Too late.
Bruce brought the mallet down as hard as he could. The stake drove deep into Merrick’s heart, and the vampire let out a howling screech that rang through the chamber like the cry of a banshee. His bony fingers clawed at the stake and his head whipped from side to side, his back arching and his robe coming open. In the quick strobe pattern, Bruce was shocked to see that his body was little more than a wood frame, chicken wire, and cotton balls. His blacked heart was hidden behind a screen of mesh that the stake had easily torn through. It throbbed, seemingly in time with the strobe lights, and Merrick let out another wail.
Bertha screamed, and Bruce jumped to his feet.
The vampires, drawn by their master’s cries of distress, were rising to their feet. Two, four, six of them, pale and ethereal like ghosts in a gothic mansion. They came toward Merrick, and Bruice fell back a step. The old man had gone still and lay slumped to one side, his eyes open and his mouth slack, embalming fluid leaking from the corner of his lips. Jessie bent over him and touched his face. Though she moved like a zombie, with no human emotion, Bruce was crazily sure that it was a touch of tenderness and love. Merrick didn’t stir.
He was dead.
Jessie looked at him. Yellow liquid leaked from her eyes like tears. Instead of attacking him, she turned on her grandmother and slammed her against the wall. Bertha screamed and dropped the can. It landed on its side, its contents sloshing out onto the floor. A man that resembled the pictures Bruce had seen of Joe Rossi only deader rushed him, slamming into him and knocking the shotgun aside. It hit the floor and skidded away. Joe grabbed Bruce around the throat and squeezed. Still the lights flashed, off and on, off and on. The walls thrummed with the mechanized beat of dance music, pierced only by Bertha’s screams as Jessie ripped out her throat.
Joe leaned in, his fangs wicked and glowing in the light. Bruce clawed at the monster’s face, tearing away strips of dead flesh. Joe turned his head to the side, and Bruce kneed him in the groin. Even dead, getting kicked in the balls hurt like hell, apparently. Joe’s grip loosened and Bruce was able to shove him off. Bruce unclasped the canteen and frantically screwed the cap off as Joe recovered. Joe sprang at him again, and Bruce splashed him in the face.
A sound like sizzling meat filled the air, and Joe screamed at the top of his lungs. He pressed his hands to his face and danced around the room, his skin liquifying and oozing between his fingers. The others were coming now, led by a terrible skeletal thing. Bruce scooped the shotgun off the floor, brought it around, and fired. The blast hit the thing dead center, tearing it literally in half. The top half flew back, an all too human look of surprise on its face, and the bottom half fell over with a wet thud. Another vampire came at, and Bruce slammed it across the face with the butt of the gun. He heard its jaw crack, saw teeth flying.
Bertha lay dead on the floor, Jessie bent over her. The smell of Bertha’s blood attracted the others, who seemed to forget about Bruce, Merrick, and everything else. Joe was on his knees, wailing in pain, and the skeletal thing was pulling itself toward Bertha. A feeding frenzy broke out as vampires fought to get a piece of her the way piglets might fight over their mother’s teat. Bruce watched in a mixture of horror and fascination, but recovered himself. He grabbed the gas can from the floor and dumped the rest of its contents on Merrick’s body, the feeding vampires’ backs, and the floor, using the last of it to make a little trail to the door. He tossed the can aside, bent down, and stuck a match.
A huge, fiery whump filled the room, and fire streaked along the trail. The vampires all went up in a huge ball of flames, and fire shot up Merrick’s body, catching his robe, his hair, and the wooden frame that had kept him semi upright for God knows how long. Letting out inhuman screams, the vampires broke from Bertha’s corpse. One stumbled around, bounced off the wall, and fell; another toddled toward Bruce before falling to its knees. The half skeleton kept drinking from Bertha’s neck even as it burned.
The heat was enormous, baking. Bruce backed away, and the last thing he saw before smoke obscured his vision was Merrick Garvis.
He was literally melting.
***
Dominick Mason tried to go home, but he no longer had a home. All of his worldly possessions sat on the sidewalk in front of his building, discarded coldly as easily. His key didn’t work in his door and there was a FOR RENT sign on it. Why would it be any other way? He was dead. Sooner or later, everyone forgets you when you’re dead, and all the things you held so dear wind up in the trash. It was a hard pill to swallow, but most people aren’t around to see it after they die.
He was.
From his building, he walked east toward Washington Park. In the distance, thick, black smoke billowed into the air, and sirens rose. He barely noticed and wouldn’t have cared even if he did. No more rubbernecking for him. That was for the living.
The pain that had plagued him so the previous day came back, only less this time. Maybe he was imagining it, but it was getting harder to think. Not that he cared, really. What was there to think about anyway? How he had no one to mourn or miss him? How he died and not one single person, except for maybe his mother, cared, or even noticed? How he had done nothing with his life? Even to the women he’d slept with, what was he? Just another dating app hookup. They probably didn’t even remember his name.
Merrick had been right about one thing. Death was easy. It was life that was hard…life that hurt.
With that in mind, Dominick made his way to Washington Park. It was a vast and deep place with many small caves and thickets. Kids played on the playground, their cries of laughter scenting the still air. It had grown cloudy and began to rain. Still, smoke poured into the sky in the direction of Club Vlad. Dom didn’t wish ill on Merrick and the others, didn’t hope it was them burning. He didn’t care anymore. Not about them, not about anyone. For better or worse (and he would argue it was worse), his life was over. His time came days ago, he just missed the boat.
Picking out an isolated little area, Dom sat against a tree with his legs splayed out in front of him. He titled his head back and closed his eyes. Yes, thinking was hard now. His mind felt sluggish, cold. He was thirsty…so, so thirsty, but he ignored it.
Slowly, the bugs found him. Flies buzzed around him and laid their eggs in his skin. Beetles scuttled over him, followed by worms.
Next, it was the birds. They ate out his eyes and nibbled at his blue, bloated skin.
The animals came last.
Their appetites were bigger.
And they left little remaining of poor, outcast Dominick Mason.
***
That night, Bruce sat alone in his little trailer, a bottle of whiskey wedged between his legs and unshed tears in his eyes. He stared at his reflection in the darkened TV set and took long swallows from the bottle. He planned to drink until he forgot or passed out, whichever came first. He tried to not think about Vanessa, but in his addled state, he couldn’t control himself, and began to cry. When that storm passed, like the others before it, he chugged from the bottle.
As distant church bells clanged the hour - midnight - a feeble knock came at the door. Bruce took another drink and it came again. Getting up, he stumbled, nearly fell, and gripped the bottle tightly. He didn’t want to lose one precious drop.
Again, the knock.
“I’m coming,” Bruce slurred. He staggered to the door and fought with the lock. He was dizzy and seeing double.
When he got it, he opened the door.
The bottle dropped from his hand and clanked onto the floor.
Vanessa, clad in a puke green hospital gown, stood on the step, her hands pressed to her chest and a look of anguish on her milk white face. Her head tilted to one side, the wounds on her neck cleaned but open, gaping. Her dark eyes shone with tears. “I’m dead,” she said.
Breaking down in tears, she collapsed against him and they sank to the floor. She was cold and smelled. Bruce wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest anyway. “Shhh, it’s alright,” he said drunkenly. “Hey, it’s alright.
“I’m dead,” she repeated, and her voice broke. “I don’t want to die.”
Bruce held her close, trying to warm her icy skin. He didn’t know what to say, so he cried with her.
“You’re safe now,” he said, “it’s going to be okay.”
“I want blood,” she said and sobbed harder, “I want to hurt people.”
“Shhh,” Bruce said again. “It’s okay.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a utility knife. He flicked the blade across his wrist and searing pain shot up his arm. “Here,” he said and offered her his blood, “drink this.”
He did this without care and without thought. She needed him, and one barnaclehead always backs up another.
Vanessa hesitated, looking from his face to the oozing blood, unsure.
“Go ahead,” he told her.
Vanessa brought his wrist to her mouth.
And began to drink.
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Before long, the pain became too great and he got up to pace, pressing his hands to the sides of his head and gritting his teeth. Merrick, who slept very little if at all, sat in his chair and watched, trying his best to talk him through it. “It’ll be over soon,” Merrick said. “The pain receptors in your brain are the first to go. When they burn out, you won’t feel anything.”
“When?” Dom asked, his voice raising with the tide of pain.
“A couple days?”
“A couple days???”
“The pain will lessen gradually,” Merrick said, “this is the worst of it.”
Dom believed that this was, indeed, the worst of it, but he doubted it would lessen gradually. For the rest of the day, the pain got worse and worse until every light blinded him, every sound turned his stomach, and the smell of anything made his gorge rise. The cloying smell of the embalming fluid, the light but unmistakable odor of dead flesh, and the scent of stale blood sitting in decomposing stomachs made him want to vomit, but he was afraid to. He didn’t think he could handle the sight of blood rushing from his mouth and splattering the floor. He still possessed enough of his facilities, he believed, to go insane.
Pain has a way of darkening one’s mood, and by the time the sun began to set, Dom was in the most sour mood possible. Even Merrick’s calm, fatherly voice was beginning to get on his nerves. When he took the oath to him the day before (or was it the day before that?), he turned his faith and trust over to Merrick entirely. He was finally accepted, included, finally had the love and fellowship that, in the pit of his soul, he had always wanted. Merrick understood him, Merrick was kind to him.
But deep down, Dom realized that he didn’t fully trust him. He said that his brain didn’t rot because he was “lucky.” That sounded like some bullshit to Dom. Why wasn’t Joe a blithering idiot too? Was he lucky as well? Did lightning strike in the same place twice? In life, people had done nothing but hurt and lie to Dom. Why would death be any different? He thought back to the strange liquid that always seemed to leak from Merrick’s nose, and Joe’s. He thought it was embalming fluid, but it never leaked from his own nose, or from anyone else’s. He tried to tell himself that it was far too soon to judge, but once he began to doubt something, his mind raced away. He felt a twinge of guilt, as Merrick had done absolutely nothing to deserve his doubt, but goddamn it, his head was on fire and he wanted it to stop. Anything to make it stop.
Just after sundown, the music began as Club Vlad opened for the night. It throbbed in the center of Dom’s head and made him want to claw his eyes out. When it became too much for him, he slipped away and stumbled into the sultry summer night. He came out in the alley running behind the club, clutching his head and breathing through bared teeth. He staggered, bumped into a metal trash can, and roared at the top of his lungs, as if he could purge himself of the pain by screaming.. His voice echoed and came back to him, making the pain worse.
Merrick was lying. He knew it. People always lied to him. His brain was rotting and PEOPLE WERE LYING! Flashing with anger, he slammed his fist into the brick wall of a Chinese restaurant. He barely felt anything so he did it again and again until his hand was lumpy and shaking. He sat heavily on the ground and pressed his hands to his head. It felt like maggots were burrowing into his brain, and he was suddenly terrified that they really were. He needed to stop this awful pain, but how?
An idea came to him.
The funeral home.
Maybe there was something there.
He was on his feet and lumbering there before the thought had even finished reverberating through his mind. It was a long shot, but he was desperate. On the way there, he stuck to the shadows, staying out of the light cast by the streetlamps and avoiding people. When he passed them, he kept his head down. When he reached the funeral home, he went to the back door where he and Jessie had gone the other day. He tried it, and it opened.
Inside, he bounced off the walls like a pinball, knocking over an end table and tearing at the flesh of his head, pulling it away in long, gray strips. He panted like a wild animal, his body a raging tempest of emotions. It was reaching a crescendo, he thought, his brain was about to go supernova. The world dimmed, things got really echoy. The young man he’d picked the embalming fluid up from was there, looking scared.
Flashing, Dom grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall, knocking a painting of a flowery field to the carpet. Everything seemed to go in slow mo. “How does Merrick keep his brain from rotting?” Dom heard himself demanding from far away. “How does he keep the pain away?”
The man trembled. “I-I-”
Dom slammed him again. “Tell me or I’ll make you like me.”
“No!” the man wailed. He shook his head from side to side, his eyes wet with fear.
“How?”
“He-He uses a solution,” the man stammered. “Some kind of special thing. It preserves his brain. That’s all I know.”
An idea occurred to Dom.
Holding the man by the back of his neck, Dom dragged him into the embalming room and pushed him against the table. His head felt like it was swelling. Hot, screaming, getting ready to explode. He looked around, found the embalming machine, and grabbed the hose. There was a sharp tip on it so that you could jam it into a body. He held it in his hand, hesitating for just a moment before pressing it to his temple. The man watched in horror as Dom slowly shoved the tip into his head. It tore his flesh, broke through his skull, and sank into his brain. He felt no pain, only pressure, but cried out anyway. His eyes rolled up into his head and a shudder went through his body.
“Turn it on!” he yelled.
“That’s not what he -”
“TURN IT ON!”
Starting, the man turned the machine on. Cold embalming fluid squirted directly into Dom’s brain. Almost at once, the pain began to ebb away, replaced only by a fuzzy sense of numbness. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, looking for all the world like an addict taking a hit of his favorite substance after a long and trying day. Fluid leaked from his nose, ears, and eyes and dripped down the back of his throat.
The man waited for a long time, then turned the machine off.
The pain was gone.
At least for now.
“Tell me again,” Dom said.
The man did. Merrick used a special preserving agent to keep his brain intact. Joe, the man suspected, got it as well. So Merrick had lied to him.
Dom felt betrayed.
And angry.
Leaving the man (Dom realized that he didn’t even know his name), he walked back to Club Vlad, his hands fisted in his pockets. All his life, he had been hurt, lied to, and ignored. All his life, people had done wrong to him. And all those years, he just took it.
He resolved not to be so accepting in death.
At last, he was going to stop being a sniveling little bitch and stand up for himself.
When he reached Club Vlad, he slammed through the back door and took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he called out Merrick’s name. The old man was sitting in his chair, being attended to by Jessie and Matt. He looked startled when Dom came in. “You lied to me,” Dom said, stalking over to his benefactor.
“What are you talking about?” Merrick asked, doing his best to sound innocent.
“You lied to me!” Dom screamed. He bent over and got so close to Merrick’s face that he could have kissed him. “You told me there was no way to save my brain, but that’s not true. You’re pumping your head full of shit and letting the rest of us rot.”
A dark shadow flickered across Merrick’s face. “Watch your tone when you talk to me,” he said. His voice was low, menacing.
“Fuck you,” Dom said. “I should k -”
Suddenly, Dom was being grabbed from behind and yanked back, an arm around his neck. He cried out in alarm as Joe swung him around and slammed him face first into the wall. He heard his nose crunch, felt his teeth shatter. Next, Joe wrestled him to the glitter-sprinkled floor and wedged his knee between his shoulder blades.
Merrick watched with a sneer of disgust, his hands gripping the arms of his chair. He wheeled himself over, Jessie holding his IV stand steady and following behind. “Listen, you son of a bitch,” Merrick said, “you’re lucky to be a part of this family.”
Cold fear filled the pit of Dom’s stomach, yet he wouldn’t back down, couldn’t back down. He had lived his entire life like a mouse in a burrow, he wasn’t about to live his entire death the same way.
“Fuck your family,” he said defiantly. “And fuck you.”
Merrick’s face darkened and he sat back in his chair. He looked at Jessie and nodded. She went away and came back a moment later holding something in her hand. Dom’s eyes widened when he saw what it was.
A wooden stake, one end honed to a razor point.
Why they had one of those lying around, Dom didn’t know; it’d be like Superman keeping a piece of kryptonite on the mantle over the fireplace. Merrick directed Max and Matt to hold Dom’s arms down/ Joe pivoted, kneeling on his head now so that Dom’s back was exposed. Dom’s heart slammed with terror and tremors raced through his body.
“Is this what you want, Dominick?” Merrick asked. “To die? To truly die?”
Dom swallowed hard. No, it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to live, to love, to have a family one day. He wanted a happy, normal life, the life TV and social media had been promising him since he was a little boy.
But all of that went out the window the night he died in his little apartment. There was no life anymore, just a grotesque parody of life. What was there for him other than death? Clinging desperately onto life for decades like Merrick? Stuffing himself full of embalming fluid and moth balls? Grinding for one more minute just so he could sit hooked up to a machine?
Dom spoke.
“What?” Merrick asked, not having heard.
Dom licked his lips. “Just fucking do it.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Expectation hung in the air. Finally, breaking the tension, Merrick nodded to Jessie. Kneeling down, she brought the stake up, and Dom closed his eyes.
This was it.
He braced himself for death.
Jessie brought the stake down just as a shot rang out, deafening in the small space. Her head whipped back, embalming fluid, skull fragments, and gray, sickly pieces of brain showering from the back of her head. She flopped back and landed on the floor with a sickening thud.
A woman cop, her black uniform in stark contrast to the burning white light, stood in the doorway to the hall, her gun drawn. Everyone did, indeed, freeze, more out of surprise than respect for authority. They all looked at her, their dead mouths agape, resembling children who’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Everyone on the ground!” she barked.
No one knew what to do. They hadn’t expected to be raided by the police so had not prepared. She jerked her gun and everyone instinctively flinched. “On the ground!” she repeated. To Max: “You too, bone boy.”
The first one to react was Joe. He sprang at her like a big, undead frog. She brought the gun around and fired, but he was already crashing into her. The shot went wild and struck the IV bag next to Merrick; he ducked and let out a sound of fear. The others rushed her, and Dom got quickly to his feet. Jessie lay on the floor, her mouth open in a silent scream and her bony fingers frantically examining the ragged hole in the center of her forehead. For a moment, he was frozen; everything was happening too fast. Then, when Merrick saw him and cried, “Stop him!, he came alive. Jessie tried to grab at his leg, but he kicked her hand away and stomped on it like it was a giant spider. On the other side of the room, Matt, Joe, and Max had forced the cop to the ground. Perhaps excited by all the action, perhaps just hungry, they began to tear her apart. She howled in pain, and the last thing Dom saw before he fled was her open, blood-filled mouth. Her eyes were filled with pain…with terror.
After that, Dom ran.
***
When the interloper was dead, Merrick directed Joe and Matt to dispose of the body. “Get rid of it,” he said wearily and rubbed his temples, “make sure it isn’t found.”
They rolled her into a carpet from the office, and the way her feet stuck out may have been comical under other circumstances.
Goddamn it, this was bad. Merrick’s entire philosophy rested on avoiding detection. He had done well in that regard. Whereas other vampires had attacked their villages and gotten themselves dug from the ground and staked, he had made it four decades. He never shat where he ate, and there is no bigger turd than killing a cop. They might dawdle on all the boys who’d gone missing - taken because their blood was stronger and more robust than the blood of girls - but they would not take a cop dying lightly at all.
Merrick owned various businesses around the country. He and the others would simply move on. Tomorrow night, they would disappear into the night. They had done it before and they would likely do it again. Once things were settled at their new base of operations, he would have Joe killed for all the trouble he’d caused.
And Dom?
Let him go.
The little rat wouldn’t last a month on his own.
“Jessie?”
Jessie sat against the wall, gazing into space.
“Jessi…start packing. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
She didn’t move, didn’t seem to hear. The shot had all but lobotomized her.
Damn it.
Joe backed the van up to the back door of Club Vlad, and then helped Matt carry the carpet-rolled body down the stairs. They loaded it in and closed the back doors. Together, they drove around looking for a place to dump it. Merrick wanted it to go unfound, but Joe doubted there was anywhere isolated enough in the city. On a whim, he drove to Washington Park, a vast expanse of green trees and shadows. There was a large pond there. It seemed the best option. They were leaving tomorrow anyway, so did it really matter?
Joe backed the van to a railing overlooking the dark water and put it in park. He and Matt got out, fetched the body, and carried it to the railing. They lifted and heaved it over. It splashed. Thus, they rid themselves of Vanessa Rodregiez.
***
Bruce sat anxiously up in his easy chair and waited for his cell to ring.
Parked in front of the TV by warm lamplight, a beer wedged between his legs, he’d been watching the 11’o’clock news when the phone rang. He picked it up and it was Vanessa. “Hey,” she said, “I think I found our body?”
“Which one?” Bruce asked and took a drink. “We have a lot of those these days.”
“Dominick Mason.”
Bruce sat forward in his chair. “Dead Dom? Where?”
“He just came out of a funeral home, ironically enough.”
“That sounds about right,” Bruce said. “Where are you now?”
“I’m following him east on Central.”
“Are you sure it’s him?” Bruce asked.
“I think so, but I’m not sure. I’ll call you back when I’m done.”
Bruce sat the phone aside and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
At some point, he fell asleep sitting up, his head lulled to one side and his mouth open. He snorted himself awake, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. He checked his phone and was perturbed to see that it was past 2am.
Vanessa hadn’t called.
He dialed her number and let the phone ring until it went to voicemail. Sighing, he ended the call, then waited a few minutes and called again.
Still no answer.
It was possible she had forgotten. Maybe the guy turned out to not be Dead Dom after all. She followed some random guy around, realized it, and that was that. Hell, she was probably too embarrassed to call and tell him about it.
Something told him that wasn’t right, however.
There was something else going on here.
Something…darker.
Just before 3am, his phone rang. He snatched it off the end table next to the chair and answered it. It was Burt, the night sargent. “Rodriguez is missing,” he said simply.
Bruce’s heart sank. “Missing?”
“Yeah, she hasn’t checked in for hours and she isn’t answering calls.”
“I’m on my way,”
Bruce tore through the house, pulling on his uniform, socks, and shoes in less time than it took a Daytona 500 pit crew to service a car. In ten minutes he was speeding down 787, the Albany skyline rising in the distance. As he hurried to the station, he thought back to his last conversation with Vanessa. She’d found Dom the Dead Man, the “corpse” who’d scared Ed Harris out of a 20 year career. Despite all their talk about vampires and the living dead, Bruce didn’t believe it, not really. Even so, he was sure that Dominick Mason had done something to Vanessa.
He checked in at the station before doing anything else. They had triangulated Vanessa’s last known location via cell towers. Cops were already out searching the streets for her. Bruce went out as well, intending to start from her last known position and work his way east on Central. The closest funeral home was Tebbutt and Frederick on Central. There was also Lasak & Gigliotti on North Allen Street. Bruce didn’t know which one Vanessa had seen Dom come out of, so he checked both.
Both were deserted at this hour.
Undeterred, Bruce drove up and down Central Ave. At one point, he noticed a shape in an alleyway that looked human. He hit the brakes, jumped out, and pointed his gun at it. “Freeze!”
An old wino stepped out of the darkness. “Alright, you got me,” he said, hands up. “I started COVID. It was an accident, I swear.”
Bruce sighed and put his gun away.
For two more hours, Bruce searched the streets of Albany for Vanessa. At 4am, he spotted a squad car abandoned in the rear parking lot of an abandoned gas station on lower Lark Street. He called it in and the desk sergeant confirmed that it was the one Vanessa had signed out that night.
Still there was no sign of Vanessa herself.
Just after dawn, as the city came alive and CDTA buses began lumbering up and down the streets, Bruce got a call on his cell. “A jogger found a body in Washington Park.”
Bruce was in his personal car. He had no bubble light, no siren. Even so, he sped through the streets like he did, blowing through red lights and stop signs with little care to himself or anyone else. When he got to Washington Park, he found an army cops by the pond, the scene cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. He slammed on the brakes, threw open the door, and jumped out without even turning off the engine.
The body was rolled up in a carpet and lying on the bank. Two beat cops unrolled it at Bruce’s direction. “We should wait for -” one of them started, but Bruce cut him off.
“Do it.”
They compiled, and at the carpet’s center, like a rotten cream filling, was the body of Vanessa Rodregiuez. Her head was tilted to one side, her eyes wide and staring. Her throat had been mangled and ripped away, her head nearly severed. Even in the black and red mess, Bruce could make out the teeth marks and puncture wounds. They may have looked like something else to anyone else who saw them, but he knew, in that moment, what they were dealing with.
A sharp pang of horror sliced through him, and his knees went weak.
“Jesus Christ,” one of the beat cops drew.
Bruce fell to, rather than knelt on, one knee. He bent over the body, a mixture of horror and grief welling his throat. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her in death, but he stayed his hand. Instead, he visually examined the body. She had bruises on her face, defensive wounds on her hands, and her gun was gone. Whoever had attacked her, she put up a fight.
Something glinted on her pants.
“What’s that?” one of the cops asked.
“I dunno,” the other replied, “but it’s all over the carpet.”
Indeed, there were glinty little specks all over it, winking like mocking eyes. Nice work, eh? We really fucked her up, didn’t we? Wink wink.
“It looks like…”
The other cop cut him off. “Glitter.”
Bruce flashed back to his visit to Club Vlad the other day.
There had been glitter everywhere.
Bruce stood up.
He had work to do.
***
Instead of going back to the station to start his shift, Bruce went to Lowes. There, he bought a mallet, a gas can, and a dozen sticks of wood. An employee in a blue vest used a machine to sharpen them to a wicked point and he took his purchases to the car. Next, he drove over to the Mobil station and filled the gas can. He was so hellbent on revenge that he sprang for premium, the good stuff. No expense shall be spared.
His final stop was at a Catholic church. He filled a canteen with holy water from the marble font by the door, then swiped a crucifix from the wall. He stopped by the station, went inside, and grabbed a black duffle bag with POLICE written across the front in yellow. He opened the gun cabinet in his office, took out a shotgun, and loaded it with shells. He grabbed a handful from the box and stuffed them into his pocket.
He was just finishing up when Bertha came in. “There you are,” she spat, “I’ve waited long enough for you to do something. I demand -”
Bruce shoved the duffle bag into her arms. “Make yourself useful.”
“What?” she demanded.
“We’re going to get your granddaughter,” Bruice lied. Kind of.
Bertha’s demeanor changed. “Good. It’s about time. I was starting to think you were a complete incompetent.”
Bruce didn’t answer. Outside, he plucked the bag out of Bertha’s hands and tossed it into the backseat. He slipped behind the wheel and Bertha sat in the passenger seat. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Club Vlad,” Bruce said and started the engine.
“I want all of them arrested.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bruce said.
She barked orders the entire way there. Bruce was so deep in his thoughts that he barely heard her. The image of Vanessa’s ruined throat and terror-twisted face haunted him, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. Hot tears filled his eyes but he blinked them back and forced himself to calm down.
I’ll cry when I’m done killing, he thought.
A few minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of Club Vlad. It was a hot and sunny day and the place seemed even more ominous because of it. The windows were black, the front cast in perpetual shadows by the old marquee from when it used to be a theater. The place was surely closed, but Bruce could hear music still playing from inside, some techno dance bullshit. “Alright,” he said, “let’s go.”
Getting out, he slung the dufflebag over his shoulder and carried the shotgun, the canteen full of holy water clasped to his belt. Bertha carried the gas can, looking confused. “Why do we need this?” she asked.
“We’re burning the place down.”
Bertha blinked in surprise…then an evil grin carved across her face. “That’ll show the bastards.”
Unlike last time, the door was locked. Bruce used the butt of the shotgun to break the glass, then reached inside and unlocked the door, being careful not to cut himself. This was the point of no return. What he had in mind would probably get him kicked off the force or even thrown in jail - and we all know how tough jail can be for a former barnaclehead. The memory of Vanessa’s contorted face pushed him on, however.
He’d suffer any consequences he needed to just so long as he got the sons of bitches who did this to her.
Inside, the club was cool and cave-like. Strobe lights flashed, on and off, black and white, dazzling Bruce’s eyes. The bartender was at his station, cleaning up from the night before. When he saw Bruce and Bertha come in, he started. Bruce pointed the shotgun at him. “Don’t fucking move,” he commanded.
The bartender hesitated, then reached for something under the bar.
The shotgun kicked in Bruce’s hands, and the bartender flew back, turning as he crashed into the barback. Bottles, glasses, and mugs crashed to the floor along with the bartender. Bruce racked the gun, and the shell flew out. He moved low and fast now, expecting to be swarmed by vampires, living thugs who worked for vampires, or vampire thugs who worked for themselves.
Though the shot had been like thunder, no one came.
Bruce had no idea where to go, but he imagined that vampires were naturally gravitate to the lowest part of the building. Was there a basement? Shit, he should have looked up the building plans at city hall. Damn, this is what happens when you go off half-cocked. He searched around a bit, opening doors and sweeping the rooms beyond with the shotgun. He found no basement, only stairs leading up. “Stay close,” he said to Bertha.
In the lead, Bruce crept up the stairs, the flashlight on the shotgun providing a cone of clean, white light. At the top of the stairs, he went right, and came to an office and a store room. Backtracking, and bumping into a bungling Bertha, he went into the next room. It was large and open with a vaulted ceiling, almost like a ballroom. Here the same strobe lights throbbed on and off, making him dizzy. Was this to dazzle prospective vampire hunters?
Either way, this was the place. Bodies lay strewn across the floor, some curled up on their sides and others in the classic vampire pose: Flat on their backs with their hands laced over their chests. In the center, like the sun to the planets, Merrick Garvis lay slumped back in his wheelchair, his neck exposed for any potential assassin to come and cut. Not that it would kill him. At least Bruce didn’t think it would.
“They’re all dead,” Bertha whispered. She looked around and gasped. “There’s Jessie.”
Jessie lay on her back, her hands folded on her chest. She had a ragged bullet hole in the center of her forehead. “Oh, God,” Bertha wavered, “someone shot her.”
He hoped it was Vanessa. And he hoped it fucking hurt.
Looking around, Bruce couldn’t find Dominick Mason. Was he the one who killed Vanessa? Was it a group effort? He wanted the little son of a bitch bad, but it looked like he’d have to go on without him. They didn’t have much time.
Unshouldering the duffle bag, he knelt down and rummaged around. “Start splashing that gas on the bodies,” he said.
“But -”
“Just do it,” he snapped.
There must have been a harder edge in his voice than normal, because Bertha jumped and did as she was told. She upended the can and began to splash gasoline onto the sleeping forms, the smell of it acrid and strong.
Taking out a stake and the mallet, Bruce went over to Merrick and knelt down. He gripped the stake in one hand and placed it firmly against Merrick’s chest. He brought the mallet up and hesitated, the gravity of what he was doing finally reaching him. What if he was wrong? What if -
Merrick’s head whipped up and their eyes locked.
Too late.
Bruce brought the mallet down as hard as he could. The stake drove deep into Merrick’s heart, and the vampire let out a howling screech that rang through the chamber like the cry of a banshee. His bony fingers clawed at the stake and his head whipped from side to side, his back arching and his robe coming open. In the quick strobe pattern, Bruce was shocked to see that his body was little more than a wood frame, chicken wire, and cotton balls. His blacked heart was hidden behind a screen of mesh that the stake had easily torn through. It throbbed, seemingly in time with the strobe lights, and Merrick let out another wail.
Bertha screamed, and Bruce jumped to his feet.
The vampires, drawn by their master’s cries of distress, were rising to their feet. Two, four, six of them, pale and ethereal like ghosts in a gothic mansion. They came toward Merrick, and Bruice fell back a step. The old man had gone still and lay slumped to one side, his eyes open and his mouth slack, embalming fluid leaking from the corner of his lips. Jessie bent over him and touched his face. Though she moved like a zombie, with no human emotion, Bruce was crazily sure that it was a touch of tenderness and love. Merrick didn’t stir.
He was dead.
Jessie looked at him. Yellow liquid leaked from her eyes like tears. Instead of attacking him, she turned on her grandmother and slammed her against the wall. Bertha screamed and dropped the can. It landed on its side, its contents sloshing out onto the floor. A man that resembled the pictures Bruce had seen of Joe Rossi only deader rushed him, slamming into him and knocking the shotgun aside. It hit the floor and skidded away. Joe grabbed Bruce around the throat and squeezed. Still the lights flashed, off and on, off and on. The walls thrummed with the mechanized beat of dance music, pierced only by Bertha’s screams as Jessie ripped out her throat.
Joe leaned in, his fangs wicked and glowing in the light. Bruce clawed at the monster’s face, tearing away strips of dead flesh. Joe turned his head to the side, and Bruce kneed him in the groin. Even dead, getting kicked in the balls hurt like hell, apparently. Joe’s grip loosened and Bruce was able to shove him off. Bruce unclasped the canteen and frantically screwed the cap off as Joe recovered. Joe sprang at him again, and Bruce splashed him in the face.
A sound like sizzling meat filled the air, and Joe screamed at the top of his lungs. He pressed his hands to his face and danced around the room, his skin liquifying and oozing between his fingers. The others were coming now, led by a terrible skeletal thing. Bruce scooped the shotgun off the floor, brought it around, and fired. The blast hit the thing dead center, tearing it literally in half. The top half flew back, an all too human look of surprise on its face, and the bottom half fell over with a wet thud. Another vampire came at, and Bruce slammed it across the face with the butt of the gun. He heard its jaw crack, saw teeth flying.
Bertha lay dead on the floor, Jessie bent over her. The smell of Bertha’s blood attracted the others, who seemed to forget about Bruce, Merrick, and everything else. Joe was on his knees, wailing in pain, and the skeletal thing was pulling itself toward Bertha. A feeding frenzy broke out as vampires fought to get a piece of her the way piglets might fight over their mother’s teat. Bruce watched in a mixture of horror and fascination, but recovered himself. He grabbed the gas can from the floor and dumped the rest of its contents on Merrick’s body, the feeding vampires’ backs, and the floor, using the last of it to make a little trail to the door. He tossed the can aside, bent down, and stuck a match.
A huge, fiery whump filled the room, and fire streaked along the trail. The vampires all went up in a huge ball of flames, and fire shot up Merrick’s body, catching his robe, his hair, and the wooden frame that had kept him semi upright for God knows how long. Letting out inhuman screams, the vampires broke from Bertha’s corpse. One stumbled around, bounced off the wall, and fell; another toddled toward Bruce before falling to its knees. The half skeleton kept drinking from Bertha’s neck even as it burned.
The heat was enormous, baking. Bruce backed away, and the last thing he saw before smoke obscured his vision was Merrick Garvis.
He was literally melting.
***
Dominick Mason tried to go home, but he no longer had a home. All of his worldly possessions sat on the sidewalk in front of his building, discarded coldly as easily. His key didn’t work in his door and there was a FOR RENT sign on it. Why would it be any other way? He was dead. Sooner or later, everyone forgets you when you’re dead, and all the things you held so dear wind up in the trash. It was a hard pill to swallow, but most people aren’t around to see it after they die.
He was.
From his building, he walked east toward Washington Park. In the distance, thick, black smoke billowed into the air, and sirens rose. He barely noticed and wouldn’t have cared even if he did. No more rubbernecking for him. That was for the living.
The pain that had plagued him so the previous day came back, only less this time. Maybe he was imagining it, but it was getting harder to think. Not that he cared, really. What was there to think about anyway? How he had no one to mourn or miss him? How he died and not one single person, except for maybe his mother, cared, or even noticed? How he had done nothing with his life? Even to the women he’d slept with, what was he? Just another dating app hookup. They probably didn’t even remember his name.
Merrick had been right about one thing. Death was easy. It was life that was hard…life that hurt.
With that in mind, Dominick made his way to Washington Park. It was a vast and deep place with many small caves and thickets. Kids played on the playground, their cries of laughter scenting the still air. It had grown cloudy and began to rain. Still, smoke poured into the sky in the direction of Club Vlad. Dom didn’t wish ill on Merrick and the others, didn’t hope it was them burning. He didn’t care anymore. Not about them, not about anyone. For better or worse (and he would argue it was worse), his life was over. His time came days ago, he just missed the boat.
Picking out an isolated little area, Dom sat against a tree with his legs splayed out in front of him. He titled his head back and closed his eyes. Yes, thinking was hard now. His mind felt sluggish, cold. He was thirsty…so, so thirsty, but he ignored it.
Slowly, the bugs found him. Flies buzzed around him and laid their eggs in his skin. Beetles scuttled over him, followed by worms.
Next, it was the birds. They ate out his eyes and nibbled at his blue, bloated skin.
The animals came last.
Their appetites were bigger.
And they left little remaining of poor, outcast Dominick Mason.
***
That night, Bruce sat alone in his little trailer, a bottle of whiskey wedged between his legs and unshed tears in his eyes. He stared at his reflection in the darkened TV set and took long swallows from the bottle. He planned to drink until he forgot or passed out, whichever came first. He tried to not think about Vanessa, but in his addled state, he couldn’t control himself, and began to cry. When that storm passed, like the others before it, he chugged from the bottle.
As distant church bells clanged the hour - midnight - a feeble knock came at the door. Bruce took another drink and it came again. Getting up, he stumbled, nearly fell, and gripped the bottle tightly. He didn’t want to lose one precious drop.
Again, the knock.
“I’m coming,” Bruce slurred. He staggered to the door and fought with the lock. He was dizzy and seeing double.
When he got it, he opened the door.
The bottle dropped from his hand and clanked onto the floor.
Vanessa, clad in a puke green hospital gown, stood on the step, her hands pressed to her chest and a look of anguish on her milk white face. Her head tilted to one side, the wounds on her neck cleaned but open, gaping. Her dark eyes shone with tears. “I’m dead,” she said.
Breaking down in tears, she collapsed against him and they sank to the floor. She was cold and smelled. Bruce wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest anyway. “Shhh, it’s alright,” he said drunkenly. “Hey, it’s alright.
“I’m dead,” she repeated, and her voice broke. “I don’t want to die.”
Bruce held her close, trying to warm her icy skin. He didn’t know what to say, so he cried with her.
“You’re safe now,” he said, “it’s going to be okay.”
“I want blood,” she said and sobbed harder, “I want to hurt people.”
“Shhh,” Bruce said again. “It’s okay.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a utility knife. He flicked the blade across his wrist and searing pain shot up his arm. “Here,” he said and offered her his blood, “drink this.”
He did this without care and without thought. She needed him, and one barnaclehead always backs up another.
Vanessa hesitated, looking from his face to the oozing blood, unsure.
“Go ahead,” he told her.
Vanessa brought his wrist to her mouth.
And began to drink.
2024.05.16 19:40 Jedarii Transformers Prime: Remnantspark
https://discord.com/invite/vQRpDkFN
Starting between the events of RWBY Volumes 1 and 2, the Great Cybertronian Civil War has been waged for an eon and now its influence has been brought to the world of Remnant. Autobots, Decepticons, and unaligned now fight each other in shadows of Remnant's two organic races, Humans and Faunus. Hunters and Huntresses do their best to protect the settlements of their kingdoms, including one secretly made and owned by the decepticons, from the beasts of Grimm, monsters made from darkness and death, all while militant faunus of the White Fang, vengeful after years of their kind's harsh mistreatment, spout venom to any minds with ears willing to listen. Megatron's return is imminent and only the Autobots and Hunters would be able to stop both the Decepticons, White Fang, the Grimm, and other forces.
submitted by Jedarii to DiscordServerPromos [link] [comments]
Starting between the events of RWBY Volumes 1 and 2, the Great Cybertronian Civil War has been waged for an eon and now its influence has been brought to the world of Remnant. Autobots, Decepticons, and unaligned now fight each other in shadows of Remnant's two organic races, Humans and Faunus. Hunters and Huntresses do their best to protect the settlements of their kingdoms, including one secretly made and owned by the decepticons, from the beasts of Grimm, monsters made from darkness and death, all while militant faunus of the White Fang, vengeful after years of their kind's harsh mistreatment, spout venom to any minds with ears willing to listen. Megatron's return is imminent and only the Autobots and Hunters would be able to stop both the Decepticons, White Fang, the Grimm, and other forces.
2024.05.16 19:36 Jedarii Transformers Prime: Remnantspark
https://discord.com/invite/vQRpDkFN
Starting between the events of RWBY Volumes 1 and 2, the Great Cybertronian Civil War has been waged for an eon and now its influence has been brought to the world of Remnant. Autobots, Decepticons, and unaligned now fight each other in shadows of Remnant's two organic races, Humans and Faunus. Hunters and Huntresses do their best to protect the settlements of their kingdoms, including one secretly made and owned by the decepticons, from the beasts of Grimm, monsters made from darkness and death, all while militant faunus of the White Fang, vengeful after years of their kind's harsh mistreatment, spout venom to any minds with ears willing to listen. Megatron's return is imminent and only the Autobots and Hunters would be able to stop both the Decepticons, White Fang, the Grimm, and other forces.
submitted by Jedarii to DiscordAdvertising [link] [comments]
Starting between the events of RWBY Volumes 1 and 2, the Great Cybertronian Civil War has been waged for an eon and now its influence has been brought to the world of Remnant. Autobots, Decepticons, and unaligned now fight each other in shadows of Remnant's two organic races, Humans and Faunus. Hunters and Huntresses do their best to protect the settlements of their kingdoms, including one secretly made and owned by the decepticons, from the beasts of Grimm, monsters made from darkness and death, all while militant faunus of the White Fang, vengeful after years of their kind's harsh mistreatment, spout venom to any minds with ears willing to listen. Megatron's return is imminent and only the Autobots and Hunters would be able to stop both the Decepticons, White Fang, the Grimm, and other forces.
2024.05.16 19:33 BodyMindHeart The Silent Fury.
 | In shadows deep where silence reigns, A figure looms with ancient pains, His eyes, like windows to the past, Reveal a soul that’s overcast. submitted by BodyMindHeart to midjourney [link] [comments] Smoke curls around his weathered face, A haunting, eerie, spectral grace, Each wrinkle tells a tale of strife, A ghostly echo of his life. His gaze is cold, a winter's chill, A heart long lost, a soul to still, The darkness whispers in his ear, Of deeds and secrets held so dear. Yet in those eyes, a flicker stays, A distant memory of brighter days, When light and laughter filled his mind, Before the shadows made him blind. Now trapped within this smoky veil, He walks alone, a mournful trail, A phantom in the night’s embrace, A relic of a forgotten race. |
2024.05.16 19:31 BodyMindHeart The Silent Fury
 | In shadows deep where silence reigns, A figure looms with ancient pains, His eyes, like windows to the past, Reveal a soul that’s overcast. submitted by BodyMindHeart to aiArt [link] [comments] Smoke curls around his weathered face, A haunting, eerie, spectral grace, Each wrinkle tells a tale of strife, A ghostly echo of his life. His gaze is cold, a winter's chill, A heart long lost, a soul to still, The darkness whispers in his ear, Of deeds and secrets held so dear. Yet in those eyes, a flicker stays, A distant memory of brighter days, When light and laughter filled his mind, Before the shadows made him blind. Now trapped within this smoky veil, He walks alone, a mournful trail, A phantom in the night’s embrace, A relic of a forgotten race. |
2024.05.16 19:09 mareks05 [Store] [selected. ★900+Skins★] Karambit SAPPHIRE,Vice,AWP Prince,Poseidon,AK Hydroponic,Butterfly RUBY,M9&Kara Doppler,BFK Fade,Kara Fade 98% 0.008,Kara F&I,M4 Howl,BFK Marble Fade,Pandora Box,Talon RUBY,Skeleton Fade,AK Gold,Skele Crimson,M4 Phosphor,AK Case Hard (iBP Holo Kato14),AK CH (#670)
🔥 Feel free to send me an offer or add me ! 🔥
🔵 Discord : selected.
🟩 I am also BUYING and SELLING skins for cash/crypto and on Marketplaces, add me to discuss ! 🟩
🟩 [TL] https://steamcommunity.com/tradeoffenew/?partner=83681844&token=QAXcgHQ4
🟩 Not everything is listed, check out my inventory for all new skins !
https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561198043947572/inventory/
Check MY INVENTORY for updated list of items !!!
All Prices are negotiable and might not be 100% accurate and updated !
★ Butterfly Knife Doppler - FN RUBY B/O 12000usd
★ Karambit Doppler - FN SAPPHIRE B/O 10000usd
★ Karambit Doppler - FN RUBY B/O 10000usd
★ Karambit Doppler - FN B/O 1500usd
★ Sport Gloves Pandora's Box - FT 0.22 B/O 6000usd
★ Talon Knife Doppler - FN RUBY B/O 5000usd
AK-47 Gold Arabesque - MW B/O 3500usd
★ Karambit Fade - FN 98.8% 0.008 B/O 4500usd
AWP The Prince - FT B/O 2800usd
AK-47 Gold Arabesque - FT B/O 2800usd
AWP The Prince - BS B/O 2400usd
AK-47 Gold Arabesque - BS B/O 2200usd
★ M9 Bayonet Gamma Doppler - FN - x2 Phase 4 B/O 2100usd
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono - FT Tier 6 0.20 B/O 4500usd
★ Skeleton Knife Fade - FN - x2 B/O 1800usd
Boston 2018 Cobblestone Souvenir Package B/O 2000usd
Souvenir AWP Desert Hydra - FT B/O 1800usd
★ Karambit Marble Fade - FN Fire & Ice 0.002 B/O 4000usd
★ Karambit Marble Fade - FN Fire & Ice B/O 3000usd
AWP Desert Hydra - WW B/O 1700usd
★ Sport Gloves Vice - FT 0.20 B/O 2000usd
★ Bayonet Gamma Doppler - FN Phase 2 0.008 B/O 1300usd
★ Bowie Knife Doppler - FN SAPPHIRE B/O 1200usd
★ M9 Bayonet Lore - FT - x2 B/O 1200usd
★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Crimson Web - MW 0.070 B/O 1500usd
★ StatTrak™ M9 Bayonet Autotronic - FT 0.22 B/O 1200usd
M4A4 Poseidon - MW B/O 1100usd
★ Karambit Case Hardened - FT (Blue pattern) B/O 1200usd
★ Skeleton Knife Slaughter - MW B/O 900usd
★ Butterfly Knife Case Hardened - WW B/O 900usd
★ Karambit Ultraviolet - MW B/O 900usd
★ Sport Gloves Slingshot - FT B/O 900usd
and many more !
AK-47 Case Hardened - WW (#670) B/O 8500usd
M4A1-S Hot Rod - FN (Crown Foil) B/O 1150usd
★ Bayonet Case Hardened - FN 0.0010 (4# in the world) B/O 900usd
StatTrak™ AK-47 Case Hardened - MW (iBUYPOWER Katowice 14 HOLO) B/O 4500usd
USP-S Orion - MW (King on The Field Sticker) B/O 150usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - BS (#265) B/O 250usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - BS (#4) B/O 900usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - WW (#764) B/O 500usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - FT (#169) B/O 600usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - MW (#65) B/O 600usd
AK-47 Redline (4x mousesports Foil MLG Columbus 2016) B/O 100usd
AK-47 Predator (Virtus.Pro Holo Dreamhack 2014) B/O 100usd
AK-47 Redline (Virtus.Pro Holo Dreamhack2014) B/O 100usd
P90 Blind Spot - FN (LDLC Katowice 2014) B/O 50usd
M4A1-S Boreal Forest (Crown Foil) B/O 100usd
Desert Eagle Hypnotic - FN (LGB Katowice 2014) B/O 180usd
StatTrak™ Glock-18 Bunsen Burner (4x Titan Cologne 2015) B/O 50usd
https://steamcommunity.com/tradeoffenew/?partner=83681844&token=QAXcgHQ4
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
submitted by mareks05 to GlobalOffensiveTrade [link] [comments]
🔵 Discord : selected.
🟩 I am also BUYING and SELLING skins for cash/crypto and on Marketplaces, add me to discuss ! 🟩
🟩 [TL] https://steamcommunity.com/tradeoffenew/?partner=83681844&token=QAXcgHQ4
🟩 Not everything is listed, check out my inventory for all new skins !
https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561198043947572/inventory/
Check MY INVENTORY for updated list of items !!!
All Prices are negotiable and might not be 100% accurate and updated !
★ Butterfly Knife Doppler - FN RUBY B/O 12000usd
★ Karambit Doppler - FN SAPPHIRE B/O 10000usd
★ Karambit Doppler - FN RUBY B/O 10000usd
★ Karambit Doppler - FN B/O 1500usd
★ Sport Gloves Pandora's Box - FT 0.22 B/O 6000usd
★ Talon Knife Doppler - FN RUBY B/O 5000usd
AK-47 Gold Arabesque - MW B/O 3500usd
★ Karambit Fade - FN 98.8% 0.008 B/O 4500usd
AWP The Prince - FT B/O 2800usd
AK-47 Gold Arabesque - FT B/O 2800usd
AWP The Prince - BS B/O 2400usd
AK-47 Gold Arabesque - BS B/O 2200usd
★ M9 Bayonet Gamma Doppler - FN - x2 Phase 4 B/O 2100usd
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono - FT Tier 6 0.20 B/O 4500usd
★ Skeleton Knife Fade - FN - x2 B/O 1800usd
Boston 2018 Cobblestone Souvenir Package B/O 2000usd
Souvenir AWP Desert Hydra - FT B/O 1800usd
★ Karambit Marble Fade - FN Fire & Ice 0.002 B/O 4000usd
★ Karambit Marble Fade - FN Fire & Ice B/O 3000usd
AWP Desert Hydra - WW B/O 1700usd
★ Sport Gloves Vice - FT 0.20 B/O 2000usd
★ Bayonet Gamma Doppler - FN Phase 2 0.008 B/O 1300usd
★ Bowie Knife Doppler - FN SAPPHIRE B/O 1200usd
★ M9 Bayonet Lore - FT - x2 B/O 1200usd
★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Crimson Web - MW 0.070 B/O 1500usd
★ StatTrak™ M9 Bayonet Autotronic - FT 0.22 B/O 1200usd
M4A4 Poseidon - MW B/O 1100usd
★ Karambit Case Hardened - FT (Blue pattern) B/O 1200usd
★ Skeleton Knife Slaughter - MW B/O 900usd
★ Butterfly Knife Case Hardened - WW B/O 900usd
★ Karambit Ultraviolet - MW B/O 900usd
★ Sport Gloves Slingshot - FT B/O 900usd
and many more !
AK-47 Case Hardened - WW (#670) B/O 8500usd
M4A1-S Hot Rod - FN (Crown Foil) B/O 1150usd
★ Bayonet Case Hardened - FN 0.0010 (4# in the world) B/O 900usd
StatTrak™ AK-47 Case Hardened - MW (iBUYPOWER Katowice 14 HOLO) B/O 4500usd
USP-S Orion - MW (King on The Field Sticker) B/O 150usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - BS (#265) B/O 250usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - BS (#4) B/O 900usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - WW (#764) B/O 500usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - FT (#169) B/O 600usd
AK-47 Case Hardened - MW (#65) B/O 600usd
AK-47 Redline (4x mousesports Foil MLG Columbus 2016) B/O 100usd
AK-47 Predator (Virtus.Pro Holo Dreamhack 2014) B/O 100usd
AK-47 Redline (Virtus.Pro Holo Dreamhack2014) B/O 100usd
P90 Blind Spot - FN (LDLC Katowice 2014) B/O 50usd
M4A1-S Boreal Forest (Crown Foil) B/O 100usd
Desert Eagle Hypnotic - FN (LGB Katowice 2014) B/O 180usd
StatTrak™ Glock-18 Bunsen Burner (4x Titan Cologne 2015) B/O 50usd
https://steamcommunity.com/tradeoffenew/?partner=83681844&token=QAXcgHQ4
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
tags
Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Ramese's Reach, Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Apep's Curse, Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Mummy's Rot, Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Black Nile, Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Steel Delta, Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Waters of Nephthys, Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Eye of Horus, Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (ScaraB Rush, Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Sobek's Bite, Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Copper Coated, Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Paris 2023, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches2024.05.16 19:06 Kronephon Eurasier / Labrador / Collie / American Shepeard? Can people who know these breeds opine? Thank you.
Introduction
Alternatively I've looked into the labrador but I'm concerned over all the health issues this breed has, On top of this their indoor activity level (I would like to both crate and leave the adult dog alone for periods ranging from 1 to 8 hours) seemed to concern me.
I've looked also into the rough/smooth collie and they seem really good fit also but since I'm in an apartment, I'm concerned over barking.
Also looked into the american sheperd but the energy level seems to be too high (I was looking at providing the adult dog between 1 and 2 hours of daily outoor exercise).
Care Commitments
7 How long do you want to devote to training, playing with, or otherwise interacting with your dog each day?)
Like I said above, I'd be keen to do between one hour to two of walking outdoors which include training exercises but also running etc. On top of this indoors I also wish to interact with the dog whenever I'm there. It would be a family member.
8 How long can you exercise your dog each day, on average? What sorts of exercise are you planning to give your dog regularly and does that include using a dog park?)
1 to 2 hours a day for the routine, ideally ponctuated with much longer hikes/runs on a weekly basis. Free-lead walks, tug of war, training, retrieving/fetch, running with the dog.
I'm not sure I would take my dog to the dog park. I'd rather have him lead-free in a normal park.
9 How much regular brushing are you willing to do? Are you open to trimming hair, cleaning ears, or doing other grooming at home? If not, would you be willing to pay a professional to do it regularly?)
1x a week brushing. More in shed season maybe.
Personal Preferences
10 What size dog are you looking for?)
medium to large
11 How much shedding, barking, and slobber can you handle?)
Shedding I can handle fine.
Barking not so much - I live in a apartment.
Slobber I wouldn't like.
12 How important is being able to let your dog off-leash in an unfenced area?)
Important. I plan to take my dog on hikes and to the park where he could walk with us. I'd like to only use the leash if we're going around traffic.
Dog Personality and Behavior
13 Do you want a snuggly dog or one that prefers some personal space?)
Both to be honest. I prefer a dog that is usually ok by himself but will ocasionally want to to snuggle.
14 Would you prefer a dog that wants to do its own thing or one that’s more eager-to-please?)
Trainability is important to me as I need him to have a good "Come" "No" "Sit" and "Enough"
15 How would you prefer your dog to respond to someone knocking on the door or entering your yard? How would you prefer your dog to greet strangers or visitors?)
No agression. A warning bark is ok.
16 Are you willing to manage a dog that is aggressive to other dogs?)
I am willing to the extent that I'm going to socialise the puppy as much as I can to prevent this.
17 Are there any other behaviors you can’t deal with or want to avoid?)
No agression.
Lifestyle
18 How often and how long will the dog be left alone?)
One of us works from home and I work 3 days a week at the office. I expect that the dog will be routinely left alone something between 1 to 4 hours a day with the rare 8 hours where neither of us are available.
19 What are the dog-related preferences of other people in the house and what will be their involvement in caring for the dog?)
We both want a dog. We both wish to be involved.
20 Do you have other pets or are you planning on having other pets? What breed or type of animal are they?)
Nope. We might consider getting another dog a year later and maybe a cat down the line.
21 Will the dog be interacting with children regularly?)
Not regurlarly. Just at the park or when we visit family.
22 Do you rent or plan to rent in the future? If applicable, what breed or weight restrictions are on your current lease?)
We own.
23 What city or country do you live in and are you aware of any laws banning certain breeds?)
London. Dangerous breeds are banned but that's about it.
24 What is the average temperature of a typical summer and winter day where you live?)
23C (73.4) for summer. 3C (37.4) for winter.
Additional Information and Questions
25 Please provide any additional information you feel may be relevant.)
26 Feel free to ask any questions below.)
I was hoping to get input from people who do own or have owned any of the breeds I listed and would let me know if there were a good fit or not,
submitted by Kronephon to dogs [link] [comments]
- Will this be your first dog? If not, what experience do you have owning/training dogs?
- Do you have a preference for rescuing a dog vs. going through a reputable breeder?
- Describe your ideal dog.
- What breeds or types of dogs are you interested in and why?
Alternatively I've looked into the labrador but I'm concerned over all the health issues this breed has, On top of this their indoor activity level (I would like to both crate and leave the adult dog alone for periods ranging from 1 to 8 hours) seemed to concern me.
I've looked also into the rough/smooth collie and they seem really good fit also but since I'm in an apartment, I'm concerned over barking.
Also looked into the american sheperd but the energy level seems to be too high (I was looking at providing the adult dog between 1 and 2 hours of daily outoor exercise).
- What sorts of things would you like to train your dog to do?
- Do you want to compete with your dog in a sport (e.g. agility, obedience, rally or use your dog for a form of work (e.g. hunting, herding, livestock guarding)? If so, how much experience do you have with this work/sport?)
Care Commitments
7 How long do you want to devote to training, playing with, or otherwise interacting with your dog each day?)
Like I said above, I'd be keen to do between one hour to two of walking outdoors which include training exercises but also running etc. On top of this indoors I also wish to interact with the dog whenever I'm there. It would be a family member.
8 How long can you exercise your dog each day, on average? What sorts of exercise are you planning to give your dog regularly and does that include using a dog park?)
1 to 2 hours a day for the routine, ideally ponctuated with much longer hikes/runs on a weekly basis. Free-lead walks, tug of war, training, retrieving/fetch, running with the dog.
I'm not sure I would take my dog to the dog park. I'd rather have him lead-free in a normal park.
9 How much regular brushing are you willing to do? Are you open to trimming hair, cleaning ears, or doing other grooming at home? If not, would you be willing to pay a professional to do it regularly?)
1x a week brushing. More in shed season maybe.
Personal Preferences
10 What size dog are you looking for?)
medium to large
11 How much shedding, barking, and slobber can you handle?)
Shedding I can handle fine.
Barking not so much - I live in a apartment.
Slobber I wouldn't like.
12 How important is being able to let your dog off-leash in an unfenced area?)
Important. I plan to take my dog on hikes and to the park where he could walk with us. I'd like to only use the leash if we're going around traffic.
Dog Personality and Behavior
13 Do you want a snuggly dog or one that prefers some personal space?)
Both to be honest. I prefer a dog that is usually ok by himself but will ocasionally want to to snuggle.
14 Would you prefer a dog that wants to do its own thing or one that’s more eager-to-please?)
Trainability is important to me as I need him to have a good "Come" "No" "Sit" and "Enough"
15 How would you prefer your dog to respond to someone knocking on the door or entering your yard? How would you prefer your dog to greet strangers or visitors?)
No agression. A warning bark is ok.
16 Are you willing to manage a dog that is aggressive to other dogs?)
I am willing to the extent that I'm going to socialise the puppy as much as I can to prevent this.
17 Are there any other behaviors you can’t deal with or want to avoid?)
No agression.
Lifestyle
18 How often and how long will the dog be left alone?)
One of us works from home and I work 3 days a week at the office. I expect that the dog will be routinely left alone something between 1 to 4 hours a day with the rare 8 hours where neither of us are available.
19 What are the dog-related preferences of other people in the house and what will be their involvement in caring for the dog?)
We both want a dog. We both wish to be involved.
20 Do you have other pets or are you planning on having other pets? What breed or type of animal are they?)
Nope. We might consider getting another dog a year later and maybe a cat down the line.
21 Will the dog be interacting with children regularly?)
Not regurlarly. Just at the park or when we visit family.
22 Do you rent or plan to rent in the future? If applicable, what breed or weight restrictions are on your current lease?)
We own.
23 What city or country do you live in and are you aware of any laws banning certain breeds?)
London. Dangerous breeds are banned but that's about it.
24 What is the average temperature of a typical summer and winter day where you live?)
23C (73.4) for summer. 3C (37.4) for winter.
Additional Information and Questions
25 Please provide any additional information you feel may be relevant.)
26 Feel free to ask any questions below.)
I was hoping to get input from people who do own or have owned any of the breeds I listed and would let me know if there were a good fit or not,
2024.05.16 19:00 publicaccess_tv Recruiting for a ~500TB Library US East Plex Share, 1Gbit Connection
I'm reposting because we've cleared up some spots on the server and have since upgraded network equipment so have more capacity for new users. I've also more than doubled the selection of content. Our last go around I only recruited a few users and was very selective, so feel free to re-apply if I didn't select you before. If you don't get into the Plex, you can still get into the Discord where you will have an opportunity to join the Plex in the future.
I'm a digital archivist with a ~500TB collection that I'm looking to share with people. This is the first time I'm expanding access outside my small-circle of friends. I'm looking for people who are also interested in joining and building a real community of AV nerds.
The collection is primarily movies and tv shows. There is a lot of stuff that was personally ripped and you won't find elsewhere, and some "lost media" that took some effort to find.
A lot of attention was paid to "completeness" and correct organization, with over 2500 fully complete TV series and 10000 movies. Completeness includes downloading full franchises of content, so I tend to have all the special episodes/reboots/sequels/spinoffs/movie of any particular franchise. If I'm missing an episode of something, that's because it probably just isn't available ANYWHERE. Quality is almost always the best available resolution/format for whatever content is on the server.
You will also get access to my Overseerr page, where you can request anything I don't already have. Available Sources: All top tier private trackers, many specialized private trackers. Can do a custom request rip if its available on any online streaming service, even if its a foreign streamer like FujiTV On Demand.
I also regularly stream major live events and PPV events for free through our own streaming site.
If you don't make the cut for the Plex, you will still be able to join our Discord where you will be able to participate in the community, join our watch parties, and have an opportunity to join our Plex in the future.
If you are looking for a new home and can add value to building this community, PM me with a short blurb about what sort of content you like and how you can contribute.
Here are the types of contributors I'm looking for:
1) Curators
You will be responsible for helping me surface content that we already have and finding content to add. This means suggesting movies to watch on movie nights or creating thematic collections. For example: you are a horror movie buff that can curate Halloween collections, or deep cut collection of the best cult horror movies.
2) Discord Community Managers
You will be responsible for helping me recruit for the community, run events, and moderate. This means stuff like finding new users to bring on the Discord, engaging our users there, and setting up events like movie nights or poker nights.
3) Lost or Obscure Media Hunters
You will be responsible for helping me find and rip lost or obscure media. I already have access to most private trackers, but maybe you have invites to some obscure private tracker for specific content I can't find. Maybe you go out of your way to find out of print DVDs that nobody else has uploaded anywhere. You know who you are.
4) Graphics Designers and Video Editors
You will be responsible for helping me design a logo for our community, posters for community events, and other design related tasks. We have a bunch of custom prerolls I created for the Plex and I am looking for someone that can help create more that we can rotate on a regular or seasonal basis.
5) Plex Share Managers
You will be responsible for helping me maintain good practices and policies with regards to inviting people to the Plex share. I've only opened this up to a limited number of people so far so that I can ensure the best experience for our users, and so I don't get arbitrarily banned by Plex. I'd like to keep it that way. You've set up a Plex Share community before or have a lot of experience with them.
6) Sysadmins
I'm just looking for other homelab geeks to recommend new services, bounce ideas and help troubleshoot stuff. Eventually looking for other admins to help me maintain infrastructure and do admin work when I'm not available to do so.
7) Mirror providers
Maybe you live in another region and have the resources to setup a mirror.
submitted by publicaccess_tv to PlexShare_ [link] [comments]
I'm a digital archivist with a ~500TB collection that I'm looking to share with people. This is the first time I'm expanding access outside my small-circle of friends. I'm looking for people who are also interested in joining and building a real community of AV nerds.
The collection is primarily movies and tv shows. There is a lot of stuff that was personally ripped and you won't find elsewhere, and some "lost media" that took some effort to find.
A lot of attention was paid to "completeness" and correct organization, with over 2500 fully complete TV series and 10000 movies. Completeness includes downloading full franchises of content, so I tend to have all the special episodes/reboots/sequels/spinoffs/movie of any particular franchise. If I'm missing an episode of something, that's because it probably just isn't available ANYWHERE. Quality is almost always the best available resolution/format for whatever content is on the server.
You will also get access to my Overseerr page, where you can request anything I don't already have. Available Sources: All top tier private trackers, many specialized private trackers. Can do a custom request rip if its available on any online streaming service, even if its a foreign streamer like FujiTV On Demand.
I also regularly stream major live events and PPV events for free through our own streaming site.
If you don't make the cut for the Plex, you will still be able to join our Discord where you will be able to participate in the community, join our watch parties, and have an opportunity to join our Plex in the future.
If you are looking for a new home and can add value to building this community, PM me with a short blurb about what sort of content you like and how you can contribute.
Here are the types of contributors I'm looking for:
1) Curators
You will be responsible for helping me surface content that we already have and finding content to add. This means suggesting movies to watch on movie nights or creating thematic collections. For example: you are a horror movie buff that can curate Halloween collections, or deep cut collection of the best cult horror movies.
2) Discord Community Managers
You will be responsible for helping me recruit for the community, run events, and moderate. This means stuff like finding new users to bring on the Discord, engaging our users there, and setting up events like movie nights or poker nights.
3) Lost or Obscure Media Hunters
You will be responsible for helping me find and rip lost or obscure media. I already have access to most private trackers, but maybe you have invites to some obscure private tracker for specific content I can't find. Maybe you go out of your way to find out of print DVDs that nobody else has uploaded anywhere. You know who you are.
4) Graphics Designers and Video Editors
You will be responsible for helping me design a logo for our community, posters for community events, and other design related tasks. We have a bunch of custom prerolls I created for the Plex and I am looking for someone that can help create more that we can rotate on a regular or seasonal basis.
5) Plex Share Managers
You will be responsible for helping me maintain good practices and policies with regards to inviting people to the Plex share. I've only opened this up to a limited number of people so far so that I can ensure the best experience for our users, and so I don't get arbitrarily banned by Plex. I'd like to keep it that way. You've set up a Plex Share community before or have a lot of experience with them.
6) Sysadmins
I'm just looking for other homelab geeks to recommend new services, bounce ideas and help troubleshoot stuff. Eventually looking for other admins to help me maintain infrastructure and do admin work when I'm not available to do so.
7) Mirror providers
Maybe you live in another region and have the resources to setup a mirror.
Library Highlights:
- Prestige Cinema and TV
- Sitcoms (New and old, the good stuff and the popular stuff)
- Science Fiction (Every major and minor SciFi franchise, from Babylon 5
- Horror (Basically everything, you will be hard pressed to find something I don't have)
- Cult and B Movies
- Gen X/Millennial Nostalgia Content
- Superhero Franchises (Marvel / DC / all the less known stuff like Flash Gordon as well)
- Drag Race and Drag Content (all regional franchises, even the first season of untucked aka Under the Hood)
- Copaganda (Every Law and OrdeDick Wolf show, NCIS, CSI, 911, FBI, The Rookie, etc.)
- Foreign Content (Critically acclaimed, culturally relevant, etc.)
- Anime (All the large franchises and highly rated stuff. Examples include: Dragonball, Sailor Moon, Gundam, One Piece, Lupin, Fate, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Bleach, Pokemon, Attack on Titam, Baki, Death Note, Cowboy Bebop, Solo Leveling, etc.)
- Modern Animation (Newer stuff from Netflix/Disney+/Max/Fox/etc.)
- Contemporary Animation (The stuff Gen X/Millennials watched growing up. Classic Nick, Cartoon Network, Fox Kids, Disney Content. The well known stuff like Dexters Lab to the obscure and forgotten like Eek the Cat.)
- Golden Age Animation (Complete collections of Looney Tunes, Terry Toons, Hanna-Barbera, Disney, Paramount, etc. A lot of work went to tracking down complete collections of a lot of these cartoons. )
2024.05.16 18:54 WhiteNikeAirs Tell me about your shock upgrades!
Looking to upgrade my shocks on a ‘24 Trail Boss. The stock ones are fine on the road but they don’t really cut it on the trail. Willing to spend a fair amount on them, I’m not buying new shocks to save money.
Don’t really want to lift it, the 2.5” factory is good enough for me. Will probably keep factory leafs and springs.
Not in a huge rush to upgrade, I’m starting a new job and moving right now so I don’t need another expense for a good while.
Icon seems to be the only brand other (online) Colorado drivers have installed and they’re the only ones who say their universal shocks are compatible with the ‘24 model.
I’m not all that interested in Bilsteins - my buddy has them on his jeep and although sporty and reliable, they’re too harsh. My favorite thing about this truck so far is its pillowy ride. It’s the reason I traded in my 2019, I’m not sacrificing that.
Fox seems like a bit much - the rebuild schedule is something I don’t want to deal with either. Although those 3.0 Race series or whatever are pretty badass. I’ve see a lot about them online, enough good reviews might convince me.
Eibachs seem like a happy medium but they don’t claim compatibility yet.
Let me know what y’all have installed, how many miles and if you’d buy them again.
submitted by WhiteNikeAirs to chevycolorado [link] [comments]
Don’t really want to lift it, the 2.5” factory is good enough for me. Will probably keep factory leafs and springs.
Not in a huge rush to upgrade, I’m starting a new job and moving right now so I don’t need another expense for a good while.
Icon seems to be the only brand other (online) Colorado drivers have installed and they’re the only ones who say their universal shocks are compatible with the ‘24 model.
I’m not all that interested in Bilsteins - my buddy has them on his jeep and although sporty and reliable, they’re too harsh. My favorite thing about this truck so far is its pillowy ride. It’s the reason I traded in my 2019, I’m not sacrificing that.
Fox seems like a bit much - the rebuild schedule is something I don’t want to deal with either. Although those 3.0 Race series or whatever are pretty badass. I’ve see a lot about them online, enough good reviews might convince me.
Eibachs seem like a happy medium but they don’t claim compatibility yet.
Let me know what y’all have installed, how many miles and if you’d buy them again.
2024.05.16 18:43 MasterU571 Small suggestions for the TNT/Prime Broadcasts
Since Dale Jr. hangs around on this sub I thought we could brainstorm a few small, doable ideas to freshen up the new broadcasts next summer.
More radio / race control audio! Tapping into the scanner increases the immersion of races so much in my opinion, and gives the chance for commentators to rest. I enjoy how Fox does subtitled sections throughout the race, but they rarely tap into the live scanner. I also loved hearing "The race finish Is under review" at Atlanta. More of this!
Small onboards on the pylon graphic that can highlight green flag pit stops or something while the main camera focuses on a battle. Someone very talented made one for the CW network a few weeks ago and it looked killer.
When coming back from commerical, use wide establishing shots before doing the sponsored segments. It always annoyed me to wait 3 minutes to see if the lead had swapped only to be met with an ad segment within the broadcast. I know they have to exist but letting the audience reorient where the field is makes them much more tolerable.
Would love to hear y'all's thoughts!
submitted by MasterU571 to NASCAR [link] [comments]
More radio / race control audio! Tapping into the scanner increases the immersion of races so much in my opinion, and gives the chance for commentators to rest. I enjoy how Fox does subtitled sections throughout the race, but they rarely tap into the live scanner. I also loved hearing "The race finish Is under review" at Atlanta. More of this!
Small onboards on the pylon graphic that can highlight green flag pit stops or something while the main camera focuses on a battle. Someone very talented made one for the CW network a few weeks ago and it looked killer.
When coming back from commerical, use wide establishing shots before doing the sponsored segments. It always annoyed me to wait 3 minutes to see if the lead had swapped only to be met with an ad segment within the broadcast. I know they have to exist but letting the audience reorient where the field is makes them much more tolerable.
Would love to hear y'all's thoughts!
2024.05.16 18:32 nemmoph Husband Wanted.
I’m aware that this is unconventional. Believe me, I’ve tried conventional – it didn’t end well for anyone. I require a certain open mindedness that I’m hoping I might find here, but more importantly, I need my future husband to know the rules. Meet-cutes are well and good on the screen, but they don’t guarantee a partner’s ability to follow basic instructions. That was my mistake the first time.
So, begging your pardon for my bluntness, I’m going to be clear about my requirements. Please read carefully – if you can’t meet them, there’s no point in going any further.
A sanctuary has stood in this spot in one form or another since before the ley lines. During its tenure, it has been flooded, put to the flame, and pounded into dust. Time and again, it has been reimagined and rebuilt. Most of the current building dates back to Victoria’s reign, though the oldest parts were constructed in the 13th century. At the very bottom of the garden, cut into the surrounding hills, there is a cave bearing handprints of red ochre.
There has always been an Edwards at the hotel, though of course we haven’t always gone by that name. You would think a family so tied to one place would do a better job of keeping records, but no one is certain of our origins. Perhaps it was a cosmic bargain, or perhaps mere luck – whether good or bad, I have never been able to decide. Either way, our presence is required. Throughout our spotty past, there’s a story here and there of an Edwards deserting their post, and it always coincides with a particularly brutal period of history.
I inherited the position five years ago. At midnight on my eighteenth birthday, my parents took their already-packed suitcases and left. I don’t blame them for their abandonment; I intend to one day do the same thing to my – or, hopefully, our – child.
They send me postcards and photos from time-to-time, always smiling on sunny beaches. Money isn’t a concern for them. That’s part of whatever mysterious deal our ancestors made – when a caretaker leaves in good-standing, they will never want for anything again. They could travel the world for the rest of their lives, always sleeping in the softest sheets and dining in the finest restaurants, and never find their pockets empty.
Keep this point in mind, for if you can meet my requirements, you will share my good fortune.
And what must we do in return? I can all but hear you scream the question. Why, very little. The presence of an Edwards ensures that the guests can’t stray from the hotel grounds. Most of our guests are live-in residents, though we do get the occasional walk-in. Where they come from, I don’t know, for we are not visible to most people who stumble upon our lonely corner of the world. I’ve come to believe the hotel chooses to reveal itself when its lacking entertainment, or to fill a need.
Jimmy, my first husband, was one such guest.
For the most part, the guests are harmless. They’ll give you a little fright from time-to-time, popping out from a wall or turning your bathwater into blood, but I find it hard to hold it against them. I’ve found twenty-three years here dreary; I can’t imagine how bored I would be after five hundred.
There are a few exceptions you should be aware of:
However, there are some rules so critical for your survival that I feel compelled to list them here:
She doted on him. I think he reminded her of her long-dead son, for she pampered him as if he were one of her own. Each morning, she had breakfast ready for him before I had so much as opened my eyes, and she developed a habit of trailing along after him, complimenting his skill as he oiled rusted hinges or set a crooked picture straight.
At first, Jimmy basked in the attention. But by the end of his second month, he was growing bored of Mrs Jones, me, and the hotel itself. We pride ourselves on our facilities. If you need more activity than a turn around the garden, we have a lovely indoor pool – it freezes over every now and then, but most of the time it’s perfectly usable. Our library is unmatched. Although the room is cramped, it has every book imaginable; you only need to think of a particular title, and it will appear on one of the shelves. And now that I’ve dragged us kicking and screaming into the 21st century, we have a wide array of streaming services.
It wasn’t enough for Jimmy. He wanted to go out – eat in a restaurant, watch a film in the cinema, see any faces other than the ones he was surrounded by every day. He began having a drink each evening. One drink turned into several, and after a few weeks, the bar became his permanent residence between dusk and midnight.
He wasn’t the only one getting bored. I had been thrilled when he first arrived; ecstatic when he agreed to stay. How marvellous to feel real flesh beneath my fingers after five years of only the dead for company. What a relief to have some assistance in the many tasks required to keep the hotel running as it should.
The more he drank, the less inclined he was to help – or even spend time in my company. He no longer visited my bed, choosing a room for himself on the opposite end of the floor. When our paths did cross, at best he would ignore me. At worst, he would nitpick or outright rail against me, blaming me for his captivity.
Still, I made an effort to be present whenever he frequented the bar. As lovely as Mrs Jones can be, she does have a tendency to nag. Before and after her death, she was close to teetotal, only consenting to take a single sherry at Christmas, and drinking outside of special occasions is something of a bugbear of hers.
“Think of your health, dear,” she would tell Jimmy brusquely. “You’ll miss it when it’s gone.”
Or, “How about we switch to a nice apple juice now? You’ve had quite enough to drink for one night.”
Most of the time, Jimmy managed to pull himself together enough to flash a charming smile and distract her with a compliment about her latest meal. But after one drink too many, I’d noticed him gritting his teeth and just barely managing to hold his tongue.
It was better if I was present. Playing the doting wife, I insisted on pouring his drinks, watering them down out of his sight. When Mrs Jones’s nagging bordered on relentless, I could always distract her with a game of gin rummy.
On his final day, I was running behind. The ghoul on the second floor – usually the least demanding of our guests – had come down with some dreadful illness, or else decided he wanted to inconvenience me. Either way, I had woken that morning to the foulest stench I had ever experienced. I followed it to his room and found every surface covered in putrid green-blank gunge, its consistency somewhere between mucus and vomit.
All day I scrubbed, taking only brief breaks to step outside before I fainted. By the time the room was restored to a passable state, and I had filled several bin bags to bursting with filthy rags, it was already deep into the night. Mindful of the time, I paused only long enough to wash the streaks of muck from my arms and face before racing to the bar.
I arrived just in time to hear Jimmy’s last words. After he spat them at Mrs Jones, she only stared for a small eternity, her mouth frozen in the motherly smile she wore whenever she scolded him.
Then, like melted wax, her face began to shift.
I shouted at Jimmy to run, but he didn’t need to be told. Before the words left my mouth, he leapt from his barstool and streaked through the door. Mrs Jones followed him seconds later. Her lips were already peeling back to reveal rows upon rows of long, wickedly sharp fangs, while claws sprouted from beneath her lace-edged cuffs.
I sprinted after them, but Jimmy was fuelled by fear and Mrs Jones by whatever force propels the Mrs Joneses of the world. I followed the screeching to the lobby. Breathless, I arrived to see he had arrived within mere feet of the entrance before Mrs Jones grabbed him.
Claws wrapped around his throat, she lifted him into the air. As I watched, her jaw unhinged, the lower part dropping so that it was nearly level with her chest.
That sight drove all the sense out of my head. Forgetting every rule my parents had ever drilled into me, I lunged at her.
She batted me away as though I weighed no more than a fly.
I crashed into the reception desk, the breath bursting from my lungs in a great woosh. I was certain that I would die, for no amount of effort seemed to force air back into my aching chest. At last, as my vision began to dim, I managed to take a small gulp – then another, and another, until I was able to draw myself together enough to regain my feet.
By that time, Mrs Jones had nearly finished her dinner. Jimmy’s chest was splayed open, muscle and shattered ribs protruding every which way from his flesh, and she was devouring the last few bites of his heart.
His head was angled towards me. The light had winked out from his eyes, but they still held his final terror – and an accusation which, I was quite certain, was directed at me. I would like to say I felt only horror, but I couldn’t help my sudden jolt of irritation. How may times had I told him to mind his manners?
Mrs Jones gulped, the sound thick and wet in her gullet, and dropped what remained of Jimmy to the floor.
Then she turned to me.
Here’s another rule for you, one which I hope you never have cause to use: never interfere with a kill.
The Mrs Jones who used to kiss my grazed knees, who argued with my mother for the right to read me bedtime stories, was no longer at the wheel. No amount of pleading or reasoning would move her.
I could only run.
Spinning around, I vaulted over the reception desk and raced for the office behind it. If Jimmy had not been out of his mind with fear and booze, he might have remembered the rules and survived; it was one of several staff-only rooms throughout the hotel warded to keep out unwanted guests.
Just ten steps from desk to door, yet it was the longest journey of my life. My hard-won breath burned my throat; my heart pounded in my ears, deafening me to all other sounds than Mrs Jones’s heavy, pounding footsteps.
Grasping the handle, her hot, copper-tanged breath was on my neck. Fire exploded in my flesh as she raked her claws down my back. A step further away, and I wouldn’t have made it; the pain would have been too great. But I managed to throw myself into the office and slam the door before crumpling to the ground.
Before I passed out, I heard her grunting and shrieking outside, furious that she couldn’t get in.
Three days I spent in the office, emerging only to feed The Thing in the Cellar before scurrying back to my hiding place. Whenever I left, I tried not to look at the mangled heap that used to be Jimmy. There was no avoiding the smell, though.
With no small difficulty, and the help of a first aid kit, I managed to treat and bandage the wounds on my back. They bled sluggishly all throughout the first day, but thankfully didn’t fester.
On the morning of the fourth day, there was a tentative knock on the door followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. I waited until they had disappeared down the corridor before cracking the door open. On the floor was a freshly baked Victoria sponge and a beautifully written note of apology.
It took every ounce of courage I possessed, but that evening I forced myself to go to the dining room. Mrs Jones was waiting for me, her eyes red-rimmed, a steaming cottage pie on the table. I tried not to flinch as she took my hand, re-iterating the apology she had already delivered in writing.
The next morning, she helped me clean Jimmy up.
We treated each other cautiously for a while, but eventually we got back to playing gin rummy again. When the scars on my back twinge, as they sometimes do, she helps me rub a soothing ointment into them. Even though I’ve told her it’s not necessary, she apologises every time.
So, you’ve heard my story and you have my proposal. If you think you could be the man for me, I invite you to visit. You will need to drink a cup of ram’s blood (a pinch of nutmeg makes it a little more tolerable) and light a black candle before bedtime. When you next wake, you will find yourself at our gates. As travel arrangements go, it’s hardly the Orient Express, but it beats the airfare.
If you have read this without flinching, if you can stomach the journey to get here, if you walk up to our door and find the nerve to open it, I have one more instruction for you.
Just as you enter, look to your right. You will see a deep brown stain on the lobby carpet. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed but it just won’t come out. Perhaps that’s for the best. It’s a good reminder of what will happen to you should you call Mrs Jones a “nosy old bat”.
And when you run into Jimmy – as you will, for he still likes hanging around the bar in the evening, his silvery wounds glistening as though they had just been inflicted – don’t let him convince you he was some sort of victim.
He knew the rules.
submitted by nemmoph to nosleep [link] [comments]
So, begging your pardon for my bluntness, I’m going to be clear about my requirements. Please read carefully – if you can’t meet them, there’s no point in going any further.
- Must want children. At least one child, anyway. I’m open to the idea of more, but one is an absolute must.
- Must be in it for the long haul. Until our child turns eighteen, to be precise. I understand that level of commitment is a daunting prospect, particularly when we have not yet met. After our child is born, you are welcome to ignore me, if you please, or take your pleasure elsewhere – though I will warn you that it might be difficult to come by. But you will live under my roof until our child is an adult.
- Homebody preferred. It will make the next two decades easier on you.
- Must have impeccable manners. I will provide a manual outlining the required etiquette, but you must at least have a grasp of basic courtesy to begin with. If you let your tongue run away with you, or don’t bother to wish your neighbours a good morning when you pass them in the street, stop reading – this is not the opportunity for you. Seriously.
A sanctuary has stood in this spot in one form or another since before the ley lines. During its tenure, it has been flooded, put to the flame, and pounded into dust. Time and again, it has been reimagined and rebuilt. Most of the current building dates back to Victoria’s reign, though the oldest parts were constructed in the 13th century. At the very bottom of the garden, cut into the surrounding hills, there is a cave bearing handprints of red ochre.
There has always been an Edwards at the hotel, though of course we haven’t always gone by that name. You would think a family so tied to one place would do a better job of keeping records, but no one is certain of our origins. Perhaps it was a cosmic bargain, or perhaps mere luck – whether good or bad, I have never been able to decide. Either way, our presence is required. Throughout our spotty past, there’s a story here and there of an Edwards deserting their post, and it always coincides with a particularly brutal period of history.
I inherited the position five years ago. At midnight on my eighteenth birthday, my parents took their already-packed suitcases and left. I don’t blame them for their abandonment; I intend to one day do the same thing to my – or, hopefully, our – child.
They send me postcards and photos from time-to-time, always smiling on sunny beaches. Money isn’t a concern for them. That’s part of whatever mysterious deal our ancestors made – when a caretaker leaves in good-standing, they will never want for anything again. They could travel the world for the rest of their lives, always sleeping in the softest sheets and dining in the finest restaurants, and never find their pockets empty.
Keep this point in mind, for if you can meet my requirements, you will share my good fortune.
And what must we do in return? I can all but hear you scream the question. Why, very little. The presence of an Edwards ensures that the guests can’t stray from the hotel grounds. Most of our guests are live-in residents, though we do get the occasional walk-in. Where they come from, I don’t know, for we are not visible to most people who stumble upon our lonely corner of the world. I’ve come to believe the hotel chooses to reveal itself when its lacking entertainment, or to fill a need.
Jimmy, my first husband, was one such guest.
For the most part, the guests are harmless. They’ll give you a little fright from time-to-time, popping out from a wall or turning your bathwater into blood, but I find it hard to hold it against them. I’ve found twenty-three years here dreary; I can’t imagine how bored I would be after five hundred.
There are a few exceptions you should be aware of:
- Eric. Our resident serial murderer. He claims to have been Jack the Ripper while he still drew breath, but I think he’s just a blowhard. He knows better than to harm an Edwards, but I’m afraid spouses are fair game. Years ago, my grandmother managed to confine him to the fourth floor, so you will be perfectly safe from him as long as you never set foot there. Occasionally, the lift will stop on that floor even though you haven’t pressed the button for it. Do not get out. Even if the lift appears to be on fire or starts filling with murky water. Wait for the doors to close again, then go to another floor. It should only take a few hours.
- The Thing in the Cellar. I don’t know what It is; no one ever has. We only know It eats rats and must be fed once a day. If I’m ever ill or incapacitated, this task will fall to you. Harvest the rats from the traps in the garden, then stand at the cellar door and throw them down the stairs. Do not walk down the stairs and do not forget to feed It. You don’t want to be the first person to see Its’ face.
- Mrs Jones. Old fashioned and a stickler for manners, she’s the reason I’m advertising for a husband rather than a boyfriend. She won’t abide a couple living in sin under the same roof as her. Really, though, she’s a sweet old thing. Full of stories about the war and always ready to help if I get stuck on a recipe. I don’t blame her for what happened with Jimmy at all. I’d warned him enough times.
However, there are some rules so critical for your survival that I feel compelled to list them here:
- With the exception of the fourth floor, you are welcome to roam the hotel and its grounds as you please. But you must never set foot outside of our land – not until our child is old enough to fulfil their duties. If I were to do so, it would unleash pandemonium – plague, peril, perhaps another world war. I’m afraid you would be less crucial to the fate of the world, but it would certainly be a personal disaster.
- Never look in the mirrors in room 33.
- I’ve touched this point already, but it bears repeating: never be rude to Mrs Jones.
She doted on him. I think he reminded her of her long-dead son, for she pampered him as if he were one of her own. Each morning, she had breakfast ready for him before I had so much as opened my eyes, and she developed a habit of trailing along after him, complimenting his skill as he oiled rusted hinges or set a crooked picture straight.
At first, Jimmy basked in the attention. But by the end of his second month, he was growing bored of Mrs Jones, me, and the hotel itself. We pride ourselves on our facilities. If you need more activity than a turn around the garden, we have a lovely indoor pool – it freezes over every now and then, but most of the time it’s perfectly usable. Our library is unmatched. Although the room is cramped, it has every book imaginable; you only need to think of a particular title, and it will appear on one of the shelves. And now that I’ve dragged us kicking and screaming into the 21st century, we have a wide array of streaming services.
It wasn’t enough for Jimmy. He wanted to go out – eat in a restaurant, watch a film in the cinema, see any faces other than the ones he was surrounded by every day. He began having a drink each evening. One drink turned into several, and after a few weeks, the bar became his permanent residence between dusk and midnight.
He wasn’t the only one getting bored. I had been thrilled when he first arrived; ecstatic when he agreed to stay. How marvellous to feel real flesh beneath my fingers after five years of only the dead for company. What a relief to have some assistance in the many tasks required to keep the hotel running as it should.
The more he drank, the less inclined he was to help – or even spend time in my company. He no longer visited my bed, choosing a room for himself on the opposite end of the floor. When our paths did cross, at best he would ignore me. At worst, he would nitpick or outright rail against me, blaming me for his captivity.
Still, I made an effort to be present whenever he frequented the bar. As lovely as Mrs Jones can be, she does have a tendency to nag. Before and after her death, she was close to teetotal, only consenting to take a single sherry at Christmas, and drinking outside of special occasions is something of a bugbear of hers.
“Think of your health, dear,” she would tell Jimmy brusquely. “You’ll miss it when it’s gone.”
Or, “How about we switch to a nice apple juice now? You’ve had quite enough to drink for one night.”
Most of the time, Jimmy managed to pull himself together enough to flash a charming smile and distract her with a compliment about her latest meal. But after one drink too many, I’d noticed him gritting his teeth and just barely managing to hold his tongue.
It was better if I was present. Playing the doting wife, I insisted on pouring his drinks, watering them down out of his sight. When Mrs Jones’s nagging bordered on relentless, I could always distract her with a game of gin rummy.
On his final day, I was running behind. The ghoul on the second floor – usually the least demanding of our guests – had come down with some dreadful illness, or else decided he wanted to inconvenience me. Either way, I had woken that morning to the foulest stench I had ever experienced. I followed it to his room and found every surface covered in putrid green-blank gunge, its consistency somewhere between mucus and vomit.
All day I scrubbed, taking only brief breaks to step outside before I fainted. By the time the room was restored to a passable state, and I had filled several bin bags to bursting with filthy rags, it was already deep into the night. Mindful of the time, I paused only long enough to wash the streaks of muck from my arms and face before racing to the bar.
I arrived just in time to hear Jimmy’s last words. After he spat them at Mrs Jones, she only stared for a small eternity, her mouth frozen in the motherly smile she wore whenever she scolded him.
Then, like melted wax, her face began to shift.
I shouted at Jimmy to run, but he didn’t need to be told. Before the words left my mouth, he leapt from his barstool and streaked through the door. Mrs Jones followed him seconds later. Her lips were already peeling back to reveal rows upon rows of long, wickedly sharp fangs, while claws sprouted from beneath her lace-edged cuffs.
I sprinted after them, but Jimmy was fuelled by fear and Mrs Jones by whatever force propels the Mrs Joneses of the world. I followed the screeching to the lobby. Breathless, I arrived to see he had arrived within mere feet of the entrance before Mrs Jones grabbed him.
Claws wrapped around his throat, she lifted him into the air. As I watched, her jaw unhinged, the lower part dropping so that it was nearly level with her chest.
That sight drove all the sense out of my head. Forgetting every rule my parents had ever drilled into me, I lunged at her.
She batted me away as though I weighed no more than a fly.
I crashed into the reception desk, the breath bursting from my lungs in a great woosh. I was certain that I would die, for no amount of effort seemed to force air back into my aching chest. At last, as my vision began to dim, I managed to take a small gulp – then another, and another, until I was able to draw myself together enough to regain my feet.
By that time, Mrs Jones had nearly finished her dinner. Jimmy’s chest was splayed open, muscle and shattered ribs protruding every which way from his flesh, and she was devouring the last few bites of his heart.
His head was angled towards me. The light had winked out from his eyes, but they still held his final terror – and an accusation which, I was quite certain, was directed at me. I would like to say I felt only horror, but I couldn’t help my sudden jolt of irritation. How may times had I told him to mind his manners?
Mrs Jones gulped, the sound thick and wet in her gullet, and dropped what remained of Jimmy to the floor.
Then she turned to me.
Here’s another rule for you, one which I hope you never have cause to use: never interfere with a kill.
The Mrs Jones who used to kiss my grazed knees, who argued with my mother for the right to read me bedtime stories, was no longer at the wheel. No amount of pleading or reasoning would move her.
I could only run.
Spinning around, I vaulted over the reception desk and raced for the office behind it. If Jimmy had not been out of his mind with fear and booze, he might have remembered the rules and survived; it was one of several staff-only rooms throughout the hotel warded to keep out unwanted guests.
Just ten steps from desk to door, yet it was the longest journey of my life. My hard-won breath burned my throat; my heart pounded in my ears, deafening me to all other sounds than Mrs Jones’s heavy, pounding footsteps.
Grasping the handle, her hot, copper-tanged breath was on my neck. Fire exploded in my flesh as she raked her claws down my back. A step further away, and I wouldn’t have made it; the pain would have been too great. But I managed to throw myself into the office and slam the door before crumpling to the ground.
Before I passed out, I heard her grunting and shrieking outside, furious that she couldn’t get in.
Three days I spent in the office, emerging only to feed The Thing in the Cellar before scurrying back to my hiding place. Whenever I left, I tried not to look at the mangled heap that used to be Jimmy. There was no avoiding the smell, though.
With no small difficulty, and the help of a first aid kit, I managed to treat and bandage the wounds on my back. They bled sluggishly all throughout the first day, but thankfully didn’t fester.
On the morning of the fourth day, there was a tentative knock on the door followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. I waited until they had disappeared down the corridor before cracking the door open. On the floor was a freshly baked Victoria sponge and a beautifully written note of apology.
It took every ounce of courage I possessed, but that evening I forced myself to go to the dining room. Mrs Jones was waiting for me, her eyes red-rimmed, a steaming cottage pie on the table. I tried not to flinch as she took my hand, re-iterating the apology she had already delivered in writing.
The next morning, she helped me clean Jimmy up.
We treated each other cautiously for a while, but eventually we got back to playing gin rummy again. When the scars on my back twinge, as they sometimes do, she helps me rub a soothing ointment into them. Even though I’ve told her it’s not necessary, she apologises every time.
So, you’ve heard my story and you have my proposal. If you think you could be the man for me, I invite you to visit. You will need to drink a cup of ram’s blood (a pinch of nutmeg makes it a little more tolerable) and light a black candle before bedtime. When you next wake, you will find yourself at our gates. As travel arrangements go, it’s hardly the Orient Express, but it beats the airfare.
If you have read this without flinching, if you can stomach the journey to get here, if you walk up to our door and find the nerve to open it, I have one more instruction for you.
Just as you enter, look to your right. You will see a deep brown stain on the lobby carpet. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed but it just won’t come out. Perhaps that’s for the best. It’s a good reminder of what will happen to you should you call Mrs Jones a “nosy old bat”.
And when you run into Jimmy – as you will, for he still likes hanging around the bar in the evening, his silvery wounds glistening as though they had just been inflicted – don’t let him convince you he was some sort of victim.
He knew the rules.
2024.05.16 18:14 ShwentyShwenty BBEG Personality
My first post!
DMing custom campaign of 4+ years and looking for feedback on ideas for my final BBEG.
(I hope none of my players see this thread.)
Character Background: (Dark elf)(male) (wizard/lich kinda thing) So they're this archmage that have been trapped in a pocket plane for centuries and nearly destroyed the world in the past. In my world elves experience a whole lot hate and cruelty by the other races. Also arcane magic, not from a divine source, wasn't largely accepted around his time (witch-hunting approach by the public and churches.) His initial plan was to bring an end to elven hate and to make arcane magic acceptable by the world. It didn't go well for him and somewhere along the line he snapped. Tale of a good guy turned evil by the harshness of the world. His whole vibe is like rot and decay. Similar to scarlet rot from Elden Ring. Wishing to purge the unclean world for the dawn of a new age where they can try again without hate and cruelty.
Character aesthetic: Tall, emaciated and handsome. Wears a cross between a wizard robe and a really early design of a 3-piece suit, but it's ragged and frayed and falling apart. Broken dimensional shackles that have scarred and bloodied his wrists. His once elven ears are scarred and uneven, clipped and mutilated to look human-like. Ever watchful piercing green eyes and a smile from ear to ear.
So that part is in stone but it's the personality that's got me stumped because I'm between a few:
A.) A smarmy charismatic guy, with witty remarks that hide a sliver of humanity behind his merciless actions (like Handsome Jack from Borderlands 2.)
B.) Cold and calculating villain, wellspoken and calm but prone to violent bursts, driven by his lust for power.
C.) Just a maniac, almost unthinking. Twisted by the centuries spent in isolation and now a philosophy-rambling savage with tunnel-vision.
Happy to accept feedback on the personality ideas.
Cheers to this wonderful community, and lots of love.
submitted by ShwentyShwenty to DnD [link] [comments]
DMing custom campaign of 4+ years and looking for feedback on ideas for my final BBEG.
(I hope none of my players see this thread.)
Character Background: (Dark elf)(male) (wizard/lich kinda thing) So they're this archmage that have been trapped in a pocket plane for centuries and nearly destroyed the world in the past. In my world elves experience a whole lot hate and cruelty by the other races. Also arcane magic, not from a divine source, wasn't largely accepted around his time (witch-hunting approach by the public and churches.) His initial plan was to bring an end to elven hate and to make arcane magic acceptable by the world. It didn't go well for him and somewhere along the line he snapped. Tale of a good guy turned evil by the harshness of the world. His whole vibe is like rot and decay. Similar to scarlet rot from Elden Ring. Wishing to purge the unclean world for the dawn of a new age where they can try again without hate and cruelty.
Character aesthetic: Tall, emaciated and handsome. Wears a cross between a wizard robe and a really early design of a 3-piece suit, but it's ragged and frayed and falling apart. Broken dimensional shackles that have scarred and bloodied his wrists. His once elven ears are scarred and uneven, clipped and mutilated to look human-like. Ever watchful piercing green eyes and a smile from ear to ear.
So that part is in stone but it's the personality that's got me stumped because I'm between a few:
A.) A smarmy charismatic guy, with witty remarks that hide a sliver of humanity behind his merciless actions (like Handsome Jack from Borderlands 2.)
B.) Cold and calculating villain, wellspoken and calm but prone to violent bursts, driven by his lust for power.
C.) Just a maniac, almost unthinking. Twisted by the centuries spent in isolation and now a philosophy-rambling savage with tunnel-vision.
Happy to accept feedback on the personality ideas.
Cheers to this wonderful community, and lots of love.
2024.05.16 17:59 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 100.000$+ INVENTORY. BFK Lore, Gloves Amphibious, Skeleton Fade, Bowie Emerald, BFK Auto, Gloves MF, Talon Doppler, Gloves POW, Bayo Tiger, Gut Sapphire, Stiletto MF, M9 Ultra, Ursus Doppler, Flip Doppler, M9 Stained, Nomad CW, Paracord CW, AK-47 X-Ray & A Lot More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77
★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87
★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41
★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39
⎯★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28
★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15
⎯★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93
★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18
★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83
★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04
★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41
★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25
★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80
★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96
★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79
⎯★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11
★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78
★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88
★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79
⎯★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05
★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24
★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03
★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28
★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42
★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37
★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66
★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18
★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13
★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83
★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02
★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44
★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03
⎯★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54
★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81
★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81
★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82
★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46
★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08
⎯★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48
★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12
⎯★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26
★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03
⎯★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77
★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49
★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51
★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94
★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99
★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80
★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92
★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03
★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22
★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40
★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42
★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20
★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46
⎯★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93
★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43
★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16
★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41
★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01
★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95
GLOVES
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67
★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33
★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88
★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21
⎯★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99
★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31
★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00
★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28
⎯★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29
★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73
★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32
⎯★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01
★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55
⎯★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94
★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55
WEAPONS
AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95
AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95
M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43
AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38
StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64
P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03
AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33
Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00
M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48
AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97
StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96
StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85
Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42
AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2024.05.16 17:45 Zagaroth [No Need For A Core?] - CH 188: Sounding Out The Swamp
Cover Art <<Previous Start Next >>
GLOSSARY This links to a post on the free section of my Patreon. Note: "Book 1" is chapters 1-59, "Book 2" is chapters 60-133, "Book 3", is 134-193, "Book 4" is CH 194-(ongoing)
Fuyuko, Derek, and Shizoku spent most of a day dealing with their accumulated gains and preparing for their first day of exploration. Shizoku spent a fair amount of that evening's time communing with Bip, her slime familiar. She needed to adjust what spells she had at the ready for dealing with a wetlands environment.
While she was studying her grimoire, Derek and Fuyuko were preparing more physical means of dealing with the wetlands. Most of their work had been dealt with by trading the boat for three pairs of proper swamp boots, but the footwear needed a little adjusting and resizing for each of them.
The over boots were a combination of different techniques for dealing with different sorts of mud, with the base being a raised wooden sole that 'winged' out to resist sinking further into soft mud that was deeper than the ridges raised the sole. These were attached to oiled leather over boots that were useful for wading. The wooden soles were detachable for prolonged wading where they would provide a hindrance.
Derek could reshape the wooden portion to match their feet exactly, and reshape metal fittings if needed, but leather and cloth needed manual adjustment. Given how long they were planning on using these for, it was important to make them fit as perfectly as possible to prevent blisters and sores, even with their normal footwear underneath the boots.
They began their exploration by using the mapping tools they had won in the library to learn the layout of the swamp near the town. It didn't take them long to realize that some of the islands moved very slowly, and Derek was able to use his elemental talents to investigate, leading to the disturbing realization that under the right conditions, mud could have currents and flows.
Shizoku's magic wasn't quite as effective as she would have liked, for most of it was designed to work in other environments. Magic designed to hide your tracks and traces didn't prevent you from making them in the first place, and so did not keep you from sinking into mud. She did have a spell designed to make traversal through any terrain safe and easy, but it didn't last very long and was best reserved for crossing smaller sections of really bad terrain.
Spells used for manipulating and altering plants could also provide small bridges, but these were limited by the strength of the nearby plants. Generally speaking, they were better for clearing plants out of the way.
These difficulties were inspiring ideas of future spells to research, but that required more time than just the little bit of rest they got each day.
Derek's powers were more consistent and easier to use repeatedly or for long periods, but the effects tended to not be as dramatic as the witch's spells. He could make the mud firmer or softer to a degree, but he couldn't create a solid path out of flowing silt for even a few minutes.
Fuyuko found that her long limbs and greater strength allowed her to move easier through the swamp then her friends could, just by virtue of being able to apply more force and leverage. This was why she was leading the way, Derek found it difficult to monitor the details of the mud around them while also working to firm it up constantly, and it was easiest for Fuyuko to cope with any sudden changes that Derek wasn't able to compensate for.
Their outward journey each day was mostly limited by Derek's stamina, and when he was approaching his limits they would use a combination of their maps and Shizoku's divination magics to find the best route back. Such spells required some precision in defining a destination, so they were not very useful when you didn't have a concrete destination in mind.
Because the trio were taking their time to be thorough and to explore all possibilities, it didn't take long for them to begin finding all the bounties that the swamp held in store for them. Shizoku was able to find plants with medical and alchemical uses, though she had to consult the tomes that she had stored in Bip's memories as wetland plants were not very familiar to her. Once she had identified any specific plant, she could give it to Fuyuko as a sample and the luponi could use her better senses to find more of that plant.
Fuyuko also caught the scent of some mud that was strangely familiar, and after she and Derek dug out some of the intensely colored clay, Shizoku was able to recognize it was a valuable type of clay used for making prized teapots and other pottery. This explained why the scent had been familiar to Fuyuko, as Kazue had been excited to introduce her to Cimbu and the fourteen-year-old had been fascinated by the ability to make the little clay dragon spit water without any magic involved and sometimes made some tea just to have an excuse to play with the tea pet and make him spit. Well, once she'd been shown how; tea wasn't something she'd had much experience with before.
Claiming the clay was more problematic. However much they might be able to claim in their explorations and bring back to town, there were only so many other explorers they could trade with as everyone had a limit to how much stuff they could physically haul out. In the end they decided on a single large sack of clay that would be stored in Fuyuko's spatially expanded backpack.
Derek did most of the work of 'mining' the clay, during which they made another discovery: Opals. There weren't an outrageous number of them, but they were decent-sized and high quality. These became a higher priority target than the clay itself, though they kept that too.
The teens didn't forget the lessons they'd been given about the previous level and wanted to fish here too. However, the water was murky in the places it was deep enough to possibly have fish, making it more difficult to know where the fish were.
It was only after they talked with people back at the town that they learned about fish traps, and set about making those. Specifically, eel traps. The eels were prized for both their skin and their flesh. Their skin was both durable and supple and came in a wide variety of colors and patterns, and their flesh was sweeter than most varieties found out in the world. As soon as they learned how to make and set eel traps, those were added to their routine during their explorations.
Their travels throughout the swamp also brought them to many of the scattered 'monster homes' throughout the swamp, including the time that Fuyuko nearly stepped on a kobold enjoying a nice relaxing mud bath. It was a shock for all three of them as none knew about the relatively recent acquisition of the small, scaled race.
Shizoku was fine with the kobold after she got over her shock, but she did less well when they met the crabbit, who was so kind as to sing for them. Not that any of them found the sight of the interior of the 'mouth' to be less than disturbing, but the effect on the little kitsune was profound as she tightened her lips into a forced smile despite the panic showing clearly in the lines and tension around her eyes. She did well enough to keep her reaction under control that the inhabitants chose to ignore it rather than call her out on it, which would have knocked down their standing in the witch's evaluation.
After about a week, they decided that their mapping and exploration of the swamp was about as good as it was going to get. It was time to approach the witch's hut that they'd avoided previously. The Fairy Witch was in a strange, almost manic mood and the trio quickly found out she was obsessed with creating new musical sounds.
"Alright kids," Carmilla said, "you want to pass my swamp? You have to help me out here. Look, the bards I've gotten my hands on have been great and all, even pretty damn creative. But I think I need something from people who don't know as much about music. Here's my workshop, I don't care if it's a new instrument or a new way of playing an old instrument, a different sort of harmony, or whatever. Gimme something new, and you can use anything you want here, the good stuff is in another building. Bah, this lot." She glared at a group of distant figures. "They're boring, won't even respond to me flirting with them, and not a musical bone in their bodies. Well, time to play the part. Have fun in there, but I don't really want to see you again until you got something for me."
The only one of them with any musical training at all was Shizoku, but it had never been something she'd pursued on her own. That left them somewhat aimlessly poking around the workshop and messing around with instruments they found, many of which were obviously experiments that were only finished enough to test.
That did eventually prove to be enough for inspiration. A large lute was laying on top of a narrow table, and Derek frowned thoughtfully at it. "I think I remember seeing something once that looked a little like that, but smaller. Like, it had a long board with a bunch of strings, way more than the lute, but the strings were on the top sort of like the lute, and it had a folding stand so that it sat on the ground. The lady who played it was set up in the square and taking tips, I guess to help pay her way? I don't know where she was traveling to or from, I only saw her once. I remember it being nice, but I don't remember what it sounded like exactly."
That was enough to start the ball rolling. "I think I know that one," Shizoku said, "Gran Gran has one tucked away. I don't think I've seen her play it though. Hmm. Well, she wants something new to her, and I don't think it's portable enough that most people are going to lug one down here, so maybe we can do that. I don't know how to tune without a tuning fork. Wait, Fuyuko, you have sharp ears, think you can figure out proper notes and a scale? "
Fuyuko looked at her blankly. "Um? I don't know, what does it involve?"
Shizoku gave her a quick rundown of how notes relate to each other with harmonies and gave an example by singing a few notes that were close to each other. "So like that, but cleaner. Only, we are supposed to be creative, and I know that there are different scales." She chewed on the idea for a little while more, thinking out loud while the others asked questions.
They agreed that the first step was going to be having a sounding box for the body, once Shizoku explained that was how the instrument amplified sound. Though that meant figuring out the size. Derek suggested that he try to make it as big as Carmilla could play. She wasn't as tall as Fuyuko, but she was pretty tall and had long arms and fingers.
The table seemed like a perfect frame to start with, even if they were going to destroy it, and the three of them set about scavenging the other instruments for parts. They snacked on strips of dried eel when they needed to take a break, and by evening they had a crude sound box built into what had once been the table. Even with Derek's wood-shaping skills, they were having trouble getting the salvaged parts to fit smoothly together into a single box with enough resonance.
Udup, the witch's shadow drake familiar, came out to check on them, and after getting a report on their progress offered to fetch them some food if they wanted to camp out here instead of trekking to town and back. The teens agreed that was the better idea, and it allowed them to tinker with ideas until they turned in for the night.
<<Previous Start Next >>
Also to be found on Royal Road.
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$3. : 10 Early chapters, lore excerpts $5. : 20 Early chapters, Short Stories $10 : 30+ Early chapters, New stories not published anywhere else (Until after I finish this story at least) . . . . . "A Girl and Her Dungeon", "The Celestine Fox", and AU Core 1: "Coreless"
submitted by Zagaroth to redditserials [link] [comments]
GLOSSARY This links to a post on the free section of my Patreon. Note: "Book 1" is chapters 1-59, "Book 2" is chapters 60-133, "Book 3", is 134-193, "Book 4" is CH 194-(ongoing)
While she was studying her grimoire, Derek and Fuyuko were preparing more physical means of dealing with the wetlands. Most of their work had been dealt with by trading the boat for three pairs of proper swamp boots, but the footwear needed a little adjusting and resizing for each of them.
The over boots were a combination of different techniques for dealing with different sorts of mud, with the base being a raised wooden sole that 'winged' out to resist sinking further into soft mud that was deeper than the ridges raised the sole. These were attached to oiled leather over boots that were useful for wading. The wooden soles were detachable for prolonged wading where they would provide a hindrance.
Derek could reshape the wooden portion to match their feet exactly, and reshape metal fittings if needed, but leather and cloth needed manual adjustment. Given how long they were planning on using these for, it was important to make them fit as perfectly as possible to prevent blisters and sores, even with their normal footwear underneath the boots.
They began their exploration by using the mapping tools they had won in the library to learn the layout of the swamp near the town. It didn't take them long to realize that some of the islands moved very slowly, and Derek was able to use his elemental talents to investigate, leading to the disturbing realization that under the right conditions, mud could have currents and flows.
Shizoku's magic wasn't quite as effective as she would have liked, for most of it was designed to work in other environments. Magic designed to hide your tracks and traces didn't prevent you from making them in the first place, and so did not keep you from sinking into mud. She did have a spell designed to make traversal through any terrain safe and easy, but it didn't last very long and was best reserved for crossing smaller sections of really bad terrain.
Spells used for manipulating and altering plants could also provide small bridges, but these were limited by the strength of the nearby plants. Generally speaking, they were better for clearing plants out of the way.
These difficulties were inspiring ideas of future spells to research, but that required more time than just the little bit of rest they got each day.
Derek's powers were more consistent and easier to use repeatedly or for long periods, but the effects tended to not be as dramatic as the witch's spells. He could make the mud firmer or softer to a degree, but he couldn't create a solid path out of flowing silt for even a few minutes.
Fuyuko found that her long limbs and greater strength allowed her to move easier through the swamp then her friends could, just by virtue of being able to apply more force and leverage. This was why she was leading the way, Derek found it difficult to monitor the details of the mud around them while also working to firm it up constantly, and it was easiest for Fuyuko to cope with any sudden changes that Derek wasn't able to compensate for.
Their outward journey each day was mostly limited by Derek's stamina, and when he was approaching his limits they would use a combination of their maps and Shizoku's divination magics to find the best route back. Such spells required some precision in defining a destination, so they were not very useful when you didn't have a concrete destination in mind.
Because the trio were taking their time to be thorough and to explore all possibilities, it didn't take long for them to begin finding all the bounties that the swamp held in store for them. Shizoku was able to find plants with medical and alchemical uses, though she had to consult the tomes that she had stored in Bip's memories as wetland plants were not very familiar to her. Once she had identified any specific plant, she could give it to Fuyuko as a sample and the luponi could use her better senses to find more of that plant.
Fuyuko also caught the scent of some mud that was strangely familiar, and after she and Derek dug out some of the intensely colored clay, Shizoku was able to recognize it was a valuable type of clay used for making prized teapots and other pottery. This explained why the scent had been familiar to Fuyuko, as Kazue had been excited to introduce her to Cimbu and the fourteen-year-old had been fascinated by the ability to make the little clay dragon spit water without any magic involved and sometimes made some tea just to have an excuse to play with the tea pet and make him spit. Well, once she'd been shown how; tea wasn't something she'd had much experience with before.
Claiming the clay was more problematic. However much they might be able to claim in their explorations and bring back to town, there were only so many other explorers they could trade with as everyone had a limit to how much stuff they could physically haul out. In the end they decided on a single large sack of clay that would be stored in Fuyuko's spatially expanded backpack.
Derek did most of the work of 'mining' the clay, during which they made another discovery: Opals. There weren't an outrageous number of them, but they were decent-sized and high quality. These became a higher priority target than the clay itself, though they kept that too.
The teens didn't forget the lessons they'd been given about the previous level and wanted to fish here too. However, the water was murky in the places it was deep enough to possibly have fish, making it more difficult to know where the fish were.
It was only after they talked with people back at the town that they learned about fish traps, and set about making those. Specifically, eel traps. The eels were prized for both their skin and their flesh. Their skin was both durable and supple and came in a wide variety of colors and patterns, and their flesh was sweeter than most varieties found out in the world. As soon as they learned how to make and set eel traps, those were added to their routine during their explorations.
Their travels throughout the swamp also brought them to many of the scattered 'monster homes' throughout the swamp, including the time that Fuyuko nearly stepped on a kobold enjoying a nice relaxing mud bath. It was a shock for all three of them as none knew about the relatively recent acquisition of the small, scaled race.
Shizoku was fine with the kobold after she got over her shock, but she did less well when they met the crabbit, who was so kind as to sing for them. Not that any of them found the sight of the interior of the 'mouth' to be less than disturbing, but the effect on the little kitsune was profound as she tightened her lips into a forced smile despite the panic showing clearly in the lines and tension around her eyes. She did well enough to keep her reaction under control that the inhabitants chose to ignore it rather than call her out on it, which would have knocked down their standing in the witch's evaluation.
After about a week, they decided that their mapping and exploration of the swamp was about as good as it was going to get. It was time to approach the witch's hut that they'd avoided previously. The Fairy Witch was in a strange, almost manic mood and the trio quickly found out she was obsessed with creating new musical sounds.
"Alright kids," Carmilla said, "you want to pass my swamp? You have to help me out here. Look, the bards I've gotten my hands on have been great and all, even pretty damn creative. But I think I need something from people who don't know as much about music. Here's my workshop, I don't care if it's a new instrument or a new way of playing an old instrument, a different sort of harmony, or whatever. Gimme something new, and you can use anything you want here, the good stuff is in another building. Bah, this lot." She glared at a group of distant figures. "They're boring, won't even respond to me flirting with them, and not a musical bone in their bodies. Well, time to play the part. Have fun in there, but I don't really want to see you again until you got something for me."
The only one of them with any musical training at all was Shizoku, but it had never been something she'd pursued on her own. That left them somewhat aimlessly poking around the workshop and messing around with instruments they found, many of which were obviously experiments that were only finished enough to test.
That did eventually prove to be enough for inspiration. A large lute was laying on top of a narrow table, and Derek frowned thoughtfully at it. "I think I remember seeing something once that looked a little like that, but smaller. Like, it had a long board with a bunch of strings, way more than the lute, but the strings were on the top sort of like the lute, and it had a folding stand so that it sat on the ground. The lady who played it was set up in the square and taking tips, I guess to help pay her way? I don't know where she was traveling to or from, I only saw her once. I remember it being nice, but I don't remember what it sounded like exactly."
That was enough to start the ball rolling. "I think I know that one," Shizoku said, "Gran Gran has one tucked away. I don't think I've seen her play it though. Hmm. Well, she wants something new to her, and I don't think it's portable enough that most people are going to lug one down here, so maybe we can do that. I don't know how to tune without a tuning fork. Wait, Fuyuko, you have sharp ears, think you can figure out proper notes and a scale? "
Fuyuko looked at her blankly. "Um? I don't know, what does it involve?"
Shizoku gave her a quick rundown of how notes relate to each other with harmonies and gave an example by singing a few notes that were close to each other. "So like that, but cleaner. Only, we are supposed to be creative, and I know that there are different scales." She chewed on the idea for a little while more, thinking out loud while the others asked questions.
They agreed that the first step was going to be having a sounding box for the body, once Shizoku explained that was how the instrument amplified sound. Though that meant figuring out the size. Derek suggested that he try to make it as big as Carmilla could play. She wasn't as tall as Fuyuko, but she was pretty tall and had long arms and fingers.
The table seemed like a perfect frame to start with, even if they were going to destroy it, and the three of them set about scavenging the other instruments for parts. They snacked on strips of dried eel when they needed to take a break, and by evening they had a crude sound box built into what had once been the table. Even with Derek's wood-shaping skills, they were having trouble getting the salvaged parts to fit smoothly together into a single box with enough resonance.
Udup, the witch's shadow drake familiar, came out to check on them, and after getting a report on their progress offered to fetch them some food if they wanted to camp out here instead of trekking to town and back. The teens agreed that was the better idea, and it allowed them to tinker with ideas until they turned in for the night.
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2024.05.16 17:23 TruNorth556 At one time our leaders in the west took the threat of nuclear conflict seriously. Now we have Biden tossing around regime change and European allies escalating recklessly.
As a side note, it takes you back to a bygone era. When American leaders were larger than life figures. Powerful men, who for whatever their faults were, cared about the country and its future. Today we have feckless dotards with soy hipster handlers.
Professor Woodrow Wilson once said that every man sent out from a university should be a man of his nation as well as a man of his time, and I am confident that the men and women who carry the honor of graduating from this institution will continue to give from their lives, from their talents, a high measure of public service and public support.
"There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university," wrote John Masefield in his tribute to English universities--and his words are equally true today. He did not refer to spires and towers, to campus greens and ivied walls. He admired the splendid beauty of the university, he said, because it was "a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see."
I have, therefore, chosen this time and this place to discuss a topic on which ignorance too often abounds and the truth is too rarely perceived--yet it is the most important topic on earth: world peace.
What kind of peace do I mean? What kind of peace do we seek? Not a Pax Americana enforced on the world by American weapons of war. Not the peace of the grave or the security of the slave. I am talking about genuine peace, the kind of peace that makes life on earth worth living, the kind that enables men and nations to grow and to hope and to build a better life for their children--not merely peace for Americans but peace for all men and women--not merely peace in our time but peace for all time.
I speak of peace because of the new face of war. Total war makes no sense in an age when great powers can maintain large and relatively invulnerable nuclear forces and refuse to surrender without resort to those forces. It makes no sense in an age when a single nuclear weapon contains almost ten times the explosive force delivered by all the allied air forces in the Second World War. It makes no sense in an age when the deadly poisons produced by a nuclear exchange would be carried by wind and water and soil and seed to the far corners of the globe and to generations yet unborn.
Today the expenditure of billions of dollars every year on weapons acquired for the purpose of making sure we never need to use them is essential to keeping the peace. But surely the acquisition of such idle stockpiles--which can only destroy and never create--is not the only, much less the most efficient, means of assuring peace.
I speak of peace, therefore, as the necessary rational end of rational men. I realize that the pursuit of peace is not as dramatic as the pursuit of war--and frequently the words of the pursuer fall on deaf ears. But we have no more urgent task.
Some say that it is useless to speak of world peace or world law or world disarmament--and that it will be useless until the leaders of the Soviet Union adopt a more enlightened attitude. I hope they do. I believe we can help them do it. But I also believe that we must reexamine our own attitude--as individuals and as a Nation--for our attitude is as essential as theirs. And every graduate of this school, every thoughtful citizen who despairs of war and wishes to bring peace, should begin by looking inward--by examining his own attitude toward the possibilities of peace, toward the Soviet Union, toward the course of the cold war and toward freedom and peace here at home.
First: Let us examine our attitude toward peace itself. Too many of us think it is impossible. Too many think it unreal. But that is a dangerous, defeatist belief. It leads to the conclusion that war is inevitable--that mankind is doomed--that we are gripped by forces we cannot control.
We need not accept that view. Our problems are manmade--therefore, they can be solved by man. And man can be as big as he wants. No problem of human destiny is beyond human beings. Man's reason and spirit have often solved the seemingly unsolvable--and we believe they can do it again.
I am not referring to the absolute, infinite concept of peace and good will of which some fantasies and fanatics dream. I do not deny the value of hopes and dreams but we merely invite discouragement and incredulity by making that our only and immediate goal.
Let us focus instead on a more practical, more attainable peace-- based not on a sudden revolution in human nature but on a gradual evolution in human institutions--on a series of concrete actions and effective agreements which are in the interest of all concerned. There is no single, simple key to this peace--no grand or magic formula to be adopted by one or two powers. Genuine peace must be the product of many nations, the sum of many acts. It must be dynamic, not static, changing to meet the challenge of each new generation. For peace is a process--a way of solving problems.
With such a peace, there will still be quarrels and conflicting interests, as there are within families and nations. World peace, like community peace, does not require that each man love his neighbor--it requires only that they live together in mutual tolerance, submitting their disputes to a just and peaceful settlement. And history teaches us that enmities between nations, as between individuals, do not last forever. However fixed our likes and dislikes may seem, the tide of time and events will often bring surprising changes in the relations between nations and neighbors.
So let us persevere. Peace need not be impracticable, and war need not be inevitable. By defining our goal more clearly, by making it seem more manageable and less remote, we can help all peoples to see it, to draw hope from it, and to move irresistibly toward it.
Second: Let us reexamine our attitude toward the Soviet Union. It is discouraging to think that their leaders may actually believe what their propagandists write. It is discouraging to read a recent authoritative Soviet text on Military Strategy and find, on page after page, wholly baseless and incredible claims--such as the allegation that "American imperialist circles are preparing to unleash different types of wars . . . that there is a very real threat of a preventive war being unleashed by American imperialists against the Soviet Union . . . [and that] the political aims of the American imperialists are to enslave economically and politically the European and other capitalist countries . . . [and] to achieve world domination . . . by means of aggressive wars."
Truly, as it was written long ago: "The wicked flee when no man pursueth." Yet it is sad to read these Soviet statements--to realize the extent of the gulf between us. But it is also a warning--a warning to the American people not to fall into the same trap as the Soviets, not to see only a distorted and desperate view of the other side, not to see conflict as inevitable, accommodation as impossible, and communication as nothing more than an exchange of threats.
No government or social system is so evil that its people must be considered as lacking in virtue. As Americans, we find communism profoundly repugnant as a negation of personal freedom and dignity. But we can still hail the Russian people for their many achievements--in science and space, in economic and industrial growth, in culture and in acts of courage.
Among the many traits the peoples of our two countries have in common, none is stronger than our mutual abhorrence of war. Almost unique among the major world powers, we have never been at war with each other. And no nation in the history of battle ever suffered more than the Soviet Union suffered in the course of the Second World War. At least 20 million lost their lives. Countless millions of homes and farms were burned or sacked. A third of the nation's territory, including nearly two thirds of its industrial base, was turned into a wasteland--a loss equivalent to the devastation of this country east of Chicago.
Today, should total war ever break out again--no matter how--our two countries would become the primary targets. It is an ironic but accurate fact that the two strongest powers are the two in the most danger of devastation. All we have built, all we have worked for, would be destroyed in the first 24 hours. And even in the cold war, which brings burdens and dangers to so many nations, including this Nation's closest allies--our two countries bear the heaviest burdens. For we are both devoting massive sums of money to weapons that could be better devoted to combating ignorance, poverty, and disease. We are both caught up in a vicious and dangerous cycle in which suspicion on one side breeds suspicion on the other, and new weapons beget counterweapons.
In short, both the United States and its allies, and the Soviet Union and its allies, have a mutually deep interest in a just and genuine peace and in halting the arms race. Agreements to this end are in the interests of the Soviet Union as well as ours--and even the most hostile nations can be relied upon to accept and keep those treaty obligations, and only those treaty obligations, which are in their own interest.
So, let us not be blind to our differences--but let us also direct attention to our common interests and to the means by which those differences can be resolved. And if we cannot end now our differences, at least we can help make the world safe for diversity. For, in the final analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's future. And we are all mortal.
Third: Let us reexamine our attitude toward the cold war, remembering that we are not engaged in a debate, seeking to pile up debating points. We are not here distributing blame or pointing the finger of judgment. We must deal with the world as it is, and not as it might have been had the history of the last 18 years been different.
We must, therefore, persevere in the search for peace in the hope that constructive changes within the Communist bloc might bring within reach solutions which now seem beyond us. We must conduct our affairs in such a way that it becomes in the Communists' interest to agree on a genuine peace. Above all, while defending our own vital interests, nuclear powers must avert those confrontations which bring an adversary to a choice of either a humiliating retreat or a nuclear war. To adopt that kind of course in the nuclear age would be evidence only of the bankruptcy of our policy--or of a collective death-wish for the world.
To secure these ends, America's weapons are nonprovocative, carefully controlled, designed to deter, and capable of selective use. Our military forces are committed to peace and disciplined in self- restraint. Our diplomats are instructed to avoid unnecessary irritants and purely rhetorical hostility.
For we can seek a relaxation of tension without relaxing our guard. And, for our part, we do not need to use threats to prove that we are resolute. We do not need to jam foreign broadcasts out of fear our faith will be eroded. We are unwilling to impose our system on any unwilling people--but we are willing and able to engage in peaceful competition with any people on earth.
Meanwhile, we seek to strengthen the United Nations, to help solve its financial problems, to make it a more effective instrument for peace, to develop it into a genuine world security system--a system capable of resolving disputes on the basis of law, of insuring the security of the large and the small, and of creating conditions under which arms can finally be abolished.
At the same time we seek to keep peace inside the non-Communist world, where many nations, all of them our friends, are divided over issues which weaken Western unity, which invite Communist intervention or which threaten to erupt into war. Our efforts in West New Guinea, in the Congo, in the Middle East, and in the Indian subcontinent, have been persistent and patient despite criticism from both sides. We have also tried to set an example for others--by seeking to adjust small but significant differences with our own closest neighbors in Mexico and in Canada.
Speaking of other nations, I wish to make one point clear. We are bound to many nations by alliances. Those alliances exist because our concern and theirs substantially overlap. Our commitment to defend Western Europe and West Berlin, for example, stands undiminished because of the identity of our vital interests. The United States will make no deal with the Soviet Union at the expense of other nations and other peoples, not merely because they are our partners, but also because their interests and ours converge.
Our interests converge, however, not only in defending the frontiers of freedom, but in pursuing the paths of peace. It is our hope-- and the purpose of allied policies--to convince the Soviet Union that she, too, should let each nation choose its own future, so long as that choice does not interfere with the choices of others. The Communist drive to impose their political and economic system on others is the primary cause of world tension today. For there can be no doubt that, if all nations could refrain from interfering in the self-determination of others, the peace would be much more assured.
This will require a new effort to achieve world law--a new context for world discussions. It will require increased understanding between the Soviets and ourselves. And increased understanding will require increased contact and communication. One step in this direction is the proposed arrangement for a direct line between Moscow and Washington, to avoid on each side the dangerous delays, misunderstandings, and misreadings of the other's actions which might occur at a time of crisis.
We have also been talking in Geneva about the other first-step measures of arms control designed to limit the intensity of the arms race and to reduce the risks of accidental war. Our primary long range interest in Geneva, however, is general and complete disarmament-- designed to take place by stages, permitting parallel political developments to build the new institutions of peace which would take the place of arms. The pursuit of disarmament has been an effort of this Government since the 1920's. It has been urgently sought by the past three administrations. And however dim the prospects may be today, we intend to continue this effort--to continue it in order that all countries, including our own, can better grasp what the problems and possibilities of disarmament are.
The one major area of these negotiations where the end is in sight, yet where a fresh start is badly needed, is in a treaty to outlaw nuclear tests. The conclusion of such a treaty, so near and yet so far, would check the spiraling arms race in one of its most dangerous areas. It would place the nuclear powers in a position to deal more effectively with one of the greatest hazards which man faces in 1963, the further spread of nuclear arms. It would increase our security--it would decrease the prospects of war. Surely this goal is sufficiently important to require our steady pursuit, yielding neither to the temptation to give up the whole effort nor the temptation to give up our insistence on vital and responsible safeguards.
I am taking this opportunity, therefore, to announce two important decisions in this regard.
First: Chairman Khrushchev, Prime Minister Macmillan, and I have agreed that high-level discussions will shortly begin in Moscow looking toward early agreement on a comprehensive test ban treaty. Our hopes must be tempered with the caution of history--but with our hopes go the hopes of all mankind.
Second: To make clear our good faith and solemn convictions on the matter, I now declare that the United States does not propose to conduct nuclear tests in the atmosphere so long as other states do not do so. We will not be the first to resume. Such a declaration is no substitute for a formal binding treaty, but I hope it will help us achieve one. Nor would such a treaty be a substitute for disarmament, but I hope it will help us achieve it.
Finally, my fellow Americans, let us examine our attitude toward peace and freedom here at home. The quality and spirit of our own society must justify and support our efforts abroad. We must show it in the dedication of our own lives--as many of you who are graduating today will have a unique opportunity to do, by serving without pay in the Peace Corps abroad or in the proposed National Service Corps here at home.
But wherever we are, we must all, in our daily lives, live up to the age-old faith that peace and freedom walk together. In too many of our cities today, the peace is not secure because the freedom is incomplete.
It is the responsibility of the executive branch at all levels of government--local, State, and National--to provide and protect that freedom for all of our citizens by all means within their authority. It is the responsibility of the legislative branch at all levels, wherever that authority is not now adequate, to make it adequate. And it is the responsibility of all citizens in all sections of this country to respect the rights of all others and to respect the law of the land.
All this is not unrelated to world peace. "When a man's ways please the Lord," the Scriptures tell us, "he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him." And is not peace, in the last analysis, basically a matter of human rights--the right to live out our lives without fear of devastation--the right to breathe air as nature provided it--the right of future generations to a healthy existence?
While we proceed to safeguard our national interests, let us also safeguard human interests. And the elimination of war and arms is clearly in the interest of both. No treaty, however much it may be to the advantage of all, however tightly it may be worded, can provide absolute security against the risks of deception and evasion. But it can--if it is sufficiently effective in its enforcement and if it is sufficiently in the interests of its signers--offer far more security and far fewer risks than an unabated, uncontrolled, unpredictable arms race.
The United States, as the world knows, will never start a war. We do not want a war. We do not now expect a war. This generation of Americans has already had enough--more than enough--of war and hate and oppression. We shall be prepared if others wish it. We shall be alert to try to stop it. But we shall also do our part to build a world of peace where the weak are safe and the strong are just. We are not helpless before that task or hopeless of its success. Confident and unafraid, we labor on--not toward a strategy of annihilation but toward a strategy of peace.
submitted by TruNorth556 to stupidpol [link] [comments]
Professor Woodrow Wilson once said that every man sent out from a university should be a man of his nation as well as a man of his time, and I am confident that the men and women who carry the honor of graduating from this institution will continue to give from their lives, from their talents, a high measure of public service and public support.
"There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university," wrote John Masefield in his tribute to English universities--and his words are equally true today. He did not refer to spires and towers, to campus greens and ivied walls. He admired the splendid beauty of the university, he said, because it was "a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see."
I have, therefore, chosen this time and this place to discuss a topic on which ignorance too often abounds and the truth is too rarely perceived--yet it is the most important topic on earth: world peace.
What kind of peace do I mean? What kind of peace do we seek? Not a Pax Americana enforced on the world by American weapons of war. Not the peace of the grave or the security of the slave. I am talking about genuine peace, the kind of peace that makes life on earth worth living, the kind that enables men and nations to grow and to hope and to build a better life for their children--not merely peace for Americans but peace for all men and women--not merely peace in our time but peace for all time.
I speak of peace because of the new face of war. Total war makes no sense in an age when great powers can maintain large and relatively invulnerable nuclear forces and refuse to surrender without resort to those forces. It makes no sense in an age when a single nuclear weapon contains almost ten times the explosive force delivered by all the allied air forces in the Second World War. It makes no sense in an age when the deadly poisons produced by a nuclear exchange would be carried by wind and water and soil and seed to the far corners of the globe and to generations yet unborn.
Today the expenditure of billions of dollars every year on weapons acquired for the purpose of making sure we never need to use them is essential to keeping the peace. But surely the acquisition of such idle stockpiles--which can only destroy and never create--is not the only, much less the most efficient, means of assuring peace.
I speak of peace, therefore, as the necessary rational end of rational men. I realize that the pursuit of peace is not as dramatic as the pursuit of war--and frequently the words of the pursuer fall on deaf ears. But we have no more urgent task.
Some say that it is useless to speak of world peace or world law or world disarmament--and that it will be useless until the leaders of the Soviet Union adopt a more enlightened attitude. I hope they do. I believe we can help them do it. But I also believe that we must reexamine our own attitude--as individuals and as a Nation--for our attitude is as essential as theirs. And every graduate of this school, every thoughtful citizen who despairs of war and wishes to bring peace, should begin by looking inward--by examining his own attitude toward the possibilities of peace, toward the Soviet Union, toward the course of the cold war and toward freedom and peace here at home.
First: Let us examine our attitude toward peace itself. Too many of us think it is impossible. Too many think it unreal. But that is a dangerous, defeatist belief. It leads to the conclusion that war is inevitable--that mankind is doomed--that we are gripped by forces we cannot control.
We need not accept that view. Our problems are manmade--therefore, they can be solved by man. And man can be as big as he wants. No problem of human destiny is beyond human beings. Man's reason and spirit have often solved the seemingly unsolvable--and we believe they can do it again.
I am not referring to the absolute, infinite concept of peace and good will of which some fantasies and fanatics dream. I do not deny the value of hopes and dreams but we merely invite discouragement and incredulity by making that our only and immediate goal.
Let us focus instead on a more practical, more attainable peace-- based not on a sudden revolution in human nature but on a gradual evolution in human institutions--on a series of concrete actions and effective agreements which are in the interest of all concerned. There is no single, simple key to this peace--no grand or magic formula to be adopted by one or two powers. Genuine peace must be the product of many nations, the sum of many acts. It must be dynamic, not static, changing to meet the challenge of each new generation. For peace is a process--a way of solving problems.
With such a peace, there will still be quarrels and conflicting interests, as there are within families and nations. World peace, like community peace, does not require that each man love his neighbor--it requires only that they live together in mutual tolerance, submitting their disputes to a just and peaceful settlement. And history teaches us that enmities between nations, as between individuals, do not last forever. However fixed our likes and dislikes may seem, the tide of time and events will often bring surprising changes in the relations between nations and neighbors.
So let us persevere. Peace need not be impracticable, and war need not be inevitable. By defining our goal more clearly, by making it seem more manageable and less remote, we can help all peoples to see it, to draw hope from it, and to move irresistibly toward it.
Second: Let us reexamine our attitude toward the Soviet Union. It is discouraging to think that their leaders may actually believe what their propagandists write. It is discouraging to read a recent authoritative Soviet text on Military Strategy and find, on page after page, wholly baseless and incredible claims--such as the allegation that "American imperialist circles are preparing to unleash different types of wars . . . that there is a very real threat of a preventive war being unleashed by American imperialists against the Soviet Union . . . [and that] the political aims of the American imperialists are to enslave economically and politically the European and other capitalist countries . . . [and] to achieve world domination . . . by means of aggressive wars."
Truly, as it was written long ago: "The wicked flee when no man pursueth." Yet it is sad to read these Soviet statements--to realize the extent of the gulf between us. But it is also a warning--a warning to the American people not to fall into the same trap as the Soviets, not to see only a distorted and desperate view of the other side, not to see conflict as inevitable, accommodation as impossible, and communication as nothing more than an exchange of threats.
No government or social system is so evil that its people must be considered as lacking in virtue. As Americans, we find communism profoundly repugnant as a negation of personal freedom and dignity. But we can still hail the Russian people for their many achievements--in science and space, in economic and industrial growth, in culture and in acts of courage.
Among the many traits the peoples of our two countries have in common, none is stronger than our mutual abhorrence of war. Almost unique among the major world powers, we have never been at war with each other. And no nation in the history of battle ever suffered more than the Soviet Union suffered in the course of the Second World War. At least 20 million lost their lives. Countless millions of homes and farms were burned or sacked. A third of the nation's territory, including nearly two thirds of its industrial base, was turned into a wasteland--a loss equivalent to the devastation of this country east of Chicago.
Today, should total war ever break out again--no matter how--our two countries would become the primary targets. It is an ironic but accurate fact that the two strongest powers are the two in the most danger of devastation. All we have built, all we have worked for, would be destroyed in the first 24 hours. And even in the cold war, which brings burdens and dangers to so many nations, including this Nation's closest allies--our two countries bear the heaviest burdens. For we are both devoting massive sums of money to weapons that could be better devoted to combating ignorance, poverty, and disease. We are both caught up in a vicious and dangerous cycle in which suspicion on one side breeds suspicion on the other, and new weapons beget counterweapons.
In short, both the United States and its allies, and the Soviet Union and its allies, have a mutually deep interest in a just and genuine peace and in halting the arms race. Agreements to this end are in the interests of the Soviet Union as well as ours--and even the most hostile nations can be relied upon to accept and keep those treaty obligations, and only those treaty obligations, which are in their own interest.
So, let us not be blind to our differences--but let us also direct attention to our common interests and to the means by which those differences can be resolved. And if we cannot end now our differences, at least we can help make the world safe for diversity. For, in the final analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's future. And we are all mortal.
Third: Let us reexamine our attitude toward the cold war, remembering that we are not engaged in a debate, seeking to pile up debating points. We are not here distributing blame or pointing the finger of judgment. We must deal with the world as it is, and not as it might have been had the history of the last 18 years been different.
We must, therefore, persevere in the search for peace in the hope that constructive changes within the Communist bloc might bring within reach solutions which now seem beyond us. We must conduct our affairs in such a way that it becomes in the Communists' interest to agree on a genuine peace. Above all, while defending our own vital interests, nuclear powers must avert those confrontations which bring an adversary to a choice of either a humiliating retreat or a nuclear war. To adopt that kind of course in the nuclear age would be evidence only of the bankruptcy of our policy--or of a collective death-wish for the world.
To secure these ends, America's weapons are nonprovocative, carefully controlled, designed to deter, and capable of selective use. Our military forces are committed to peace and disciplined in self- restraint. Our diplomats are instructed to avoid unnecessary irritants and purely rhetorical hostility.
For we can seek a relaxation of tension without relaxing our guard. And, for our part, we do not need to use threats to prove that we are resolute. We do not need to jam foreign broadcasts out of fear our faith will be eroded. We are unwilling to impose our system on any unwilling people--but we are willing and able to engage in peaceful competition with any people on earth.
Meanwhile, we seek to strengthen the United Nations, to help solve its financial problems, to make it a more effective instrument for peace, to develop it into a genuine world security system--a system capable of resolving disputes on the basis of law, of insuring the security of the large and the small, and of creating conditions under which arms can finally be abolished.
At the same time we seek to keep peace inside the non-Communist world, where many nations, all of them our friends, are divided over issues which weaken Western unity, which invite Communist intervention or which threaten to erupt into war. Our efforts in West New Guinea, in the Congo, in the Middle East, and in the Indian subcontinent, have been persistent and patient despite criticism from both sides. We have also tried to set an example for others--by seeking to adjust small but significant differences with our own closest neighbors in Mexico and in Canada.
Speaking of other nations, I wish to make one point clear. We are bound to many nations by alliances. Those alliances exist because our concern and theirs substantially overlap. Our commitment to defend Western Europe and West Berlin, for example, stands undiminished because of the identity of our vital interests. The United States will make no deal with the Soviet Union at the expense of other nations and other peoples, not merely because they are our partners, but also because their interests and ours converge.
Our interests converge, however, not only in defending the frontiers of freedom, but in pursuing the paths of peace. It is our hope-- and the purpose of allied policies--to convince the Soviet Union that she, too, should let each nation choose its own future, so long as that choice does not interfere with the choices of others. The Communist drive to impose their political and economic system on others is the primary cause of world tension today. For there can be no doubt that, if all nations could refrain from interfering in the self-determination of others, the peace would be much more assured.
This will require a new effort to achieve world law--a new context for world discussions. It will require increased understanding between the Soviets and ourselves. And increased understanding will require increased contact and communication. One step in this direction is the proposed arrangement for a direct line between Moscow and Washington, to avoid on each side the dangerous delays, misunderstandings, and misreadings of the other's actions which might occur at a time of crisis.
We have also been talking in Geneva about the other first-step measures of arms control designed to limit the intensity of the arms race and to reduce the risks of accidental war. Our primary long range interest in Geneva, however, is general and complete disarmament-- designed to take place by stages, permitting parallel political developments to build the new institutions of peace which would take the place of arms. The pursuit of disarmament has been an effort of this Government since the 1920's. It has been urgently sought by the past three administrations. And however dim the prospects may be today, we intend to continue this effort--to continue it in order that all countries, including our own, can better grasp what the problems and possibilities of disarmament are.
The one major area of these negotiations where the end is in sight, yet where a fresh start is badly needed, is in a treaty to outlaw nuclear tests. The conclusion of such a treaty, so near and yet so far, would check the spiraling arms race in one of its most dangerous areas. It would place the nuclear powers in a position to deal more effectively with one of the greatest hazards which man faces in 1963, the further spread of nuclear arms. It would increase our security--it would decrease the prospects of war. Surely this goal is sufficiently important to require our steady pursuit, yielding neither to the temptation to give up the whole effort nor the temptation to give up our insistence on vital and responsible safeguards.
I am taking this opportunity, therefore, to announce two important decisions in this regard.
First: Chairman Khrushchev, Prime Minister Macmillan, and I have agreed that high-level discussions will shortly begin in Moscow looking toward early agreement on a comprehensive test ban treaty. Our hopes must be tempered with the caution of history--but with our hopes go the hopes of all mankind.
Second: To make clear our good faith and solemn convictions on the matter, I now declare that the United States does not propose to conduct nuclear tests in the atmosphere so long as other states do not do so. We will not be the first to resume. Such a declaration is no substitute for a formal binding treaty, but I hope it will help us achieve one. Nor would such a treaty be a substitute for disarmament, but I hope it will help us achieve it.
Finally, my fellow Americans, let us examine our attitude toward peace and freedom here at home. The quality and spirit of our own society must justify and support our efforts abroad. We must show it in the dedication of our own lives--as many of you who are graduating today will have a unique opportunity to do, by serving without pay in the Peace Corps abroad or in the proposed National Service Corps here at home.
But wherever we are, we must all, in our daily lives, live up to the age-old faith that peace and freedom walk together. In too many of our cities today, the peace is not secure because the freedom is incomplete.
It is the responsibility of the executive branch at all levels of government--local, State, and National--to provide and protect that freedom for all of our citizens by all means within their authority. It is the responsibility of the legislative branch at all levels, wherever that authority is not now adequate, to make it adequate. And it is the responsibility of all citizens in all sections of this country to respect the rights of all others and to respect the law of the land.
All this is not unrelated to world peace. "When a man's ways please the Lord," the Scriptures tell us, "he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him." And is not peace, in the last analysis, basically a matter of human rights--the right to live out our lives without fear of devastation--the right to breathe air as nature provided it--the right of future generations to a healthy existence?
While we proceed to safeguard our national interests, let us also safeguard human interests. And the elimination of war and arms is clearly in the interest of both. No treaty, however much it may be to the advantage of all, however tightly it may be worded, can provide absolute security against the risks of deception and evasion. But it can--if it is sufficiently effective in its enforcement and if it is sufficiently in the interests of its signers--offer far more security and far fewer risks than an unabated, uncontrolled, unpredictable arms race.
The United States, as the world knows, will never start a war. We do not want a war. We do not now expect a war. This generation of Americans has already had enough--more than enough--of war and hate and oppression. We shall be prepared if others wish it. We shall be alert to try to stop it. But we shall also do our part to build a world of peace where the weak are safe and the strong are just. We are not helpless before that task or hopeless of its success. Confident and unafraid, we labor on--not toward a strategy of annihilation but toward a strategy of peace.
2024.05.16 17:10 AtlantiumAI SUPERLIGHT Episode 8
 | SUPERLIGHT Episode 8 submitted by AtlantiumAI to u/AtlantiumAI [link] [comments] By Roc Hatfield https://preview.redd.it/a7zv50601t0d1.png?width=1456&format=png&auto=webp&s=debf7ea73c5d775284f69dcc0a8412783256fd1e Excelsior Andriel and his staff move to the debark site on the blade where they will walk in space over to the Elo Eloahim. Ambassador Lucentel is awaiting the arrival of the group from the blade. He is speaking with the commander of his vessel as they look outside at the blade sitting 100 yards away. Commander, what do you make of this vessel, the blade? Ambassador, I am aware of this design. It is manifest and therefore has many exotic accoutrements and capabilities. It has a trans-time drive system and many highly accurate weapons. The commander pauses. Does it pose a threat to the Elo Eloahim, commander? Lucent Tell asks. As long as we are in the Aetherium domain, it poses no threat. If it were to transpose into the Matterverse, it would be potentially lethal to us. The commander and Lucentel can see Excelsior Andriel and a group of Aetherians walking in space toward the Elo Eloahim. Senator, I have Jason Anderson on the phone. Line one. You want to take it? Asked his assistant. Yes, thank you, Barks the senator. Jason, have you lost your fucking mind? Why are you talking to reporters? Well, if you must know, I am concerned about the effects of the Superlight device, and I think people should be aware. Besides, Hilliard fired me, so I have no allegiance, Jason adds. Whoa, whoa, whoa. A bunch of babies. You people are so dramatic. Where the fuck is Hilliard? We have looked everywhere, and not a sign of him or his team, the senator says. I don't know senator, but I did get a call from him this morning early. Where was the call from? Did you look? Asks Senator Abramson. Yes, I looked, and it was listed as caller unknown. He has gone into hiding and is using a burner or a call blocker. Get me that phone, Jason. I can get someone at NSA to trace it back. Maybe we can get a lead. Okay, senator, I can send it down express. It will be there tomorrow. You know, Jason, if you want that device in good hands, we have to find Hilliard. The senator huffs. I understand, Senator, Jason says. Send me that phone, and I will talk to you in a couple of days. The senator hangs up. Airman Johnson has collected Brad, Nancy, and Walter, escorting them to the mess hall. As they enter, they see Captain Carpenter and two men at a table. They stand and greet. Barbara introduces everyone. Brad, Nancy, Walter, I would like you to meet Steve Ruddin and Oscar Tillman. These guys are contractors to the Space Force Deep Black Division, the same guys that developed the TR-3 Black Manta you all flew on. They work on the infamous 17th floor, the bottom floor, and safest floor in the base. An intruder would have to navigate down through 16 floors through tight security to reach this floor and its secret projects. These guys are going to help you set up your device. I have approved this as a Halo-class project, which means no spending caps. So, whatever you need, just ask, and it will be provided to you. If the New Empire is interested in this thing, then we all are interested in it. Nancy, Walter, I know you may need some briefing to get you fully up to speed. Maybe Brad can fill you in later. After lunch, I am going to have Steve and Oscar give you the 10-cent tour. Well, some of the toys they have down there cost a significant portion of the U.S. budget, off-record budget, Barbara says. We have been talking with these greys for years. The Air Force prior to us. We never see the tall greys, always the little ones. That tells you something right there. Your little black box has them freaking out, so we need to know why, and how to leverage from it. My job here is to oversee development of space technologies. The greys are so far technologically ahead of us. It would take thousands of years for us to discover half of that stuff. We have asked them to help us for years, and they have given us an old depleted ship, and some elements that are not found on Earth, but that's about it. Even their old scout ships are impossible to reverse-engineer. We have been able to take a few components and use them. Back in the 50s, many of the big tech breakthroughs were reversed grey tech. They seem to be a race of thinkers and scientists. They use some kind of black magic. I just call it that. They call it manifest. They are able to tell the quantum to build a spaceship, and the thing just 3D prints itself into existence. That's why their tech is so hard to back-engineer. There are no signs of any manufacturing, it’s like a living metallic body, no seams, rivets, nothing. Just a wholly formed organic ship. Which brings me to the whole point of this meeting. If the superlight is an economic or ideological threat to the greys and their kind, we have a currency to trade in. I am certain they could build one in a minute, that's not the issue. They don't want us to have it. It is an existential threat to their economy and how they profit from us as a species. I have been thinking, since we were on that ship with the big grey Andriel, that the human race, and most likely many others, are creations, avatars, if you will made by the beings you are seeing with the superlight. It's all mind-melting information, but we need to learn more about these things, and how they affect our planet, and what threats they pose. You now have all the resources you need at your disposal. So, let's get some answers in fast. Our very survival could depend on it. Captain Carpenter concludes. The news of the superlight has been seen around the world. The news media have been featuring non-stop coverage of the story. Reporters have probed the White House, the Russians, the Chinese, the Vatican, just about every world leader for comment and analysis. U.S. President Andrew Walton Grant has fielded calls all day from far-flung world leaders. His chief of staff Ben Chambers is hovering nearby. The president is on a video call with Russian President Nikolai Brezhnev. President Grant, I am very concerned that the U.S. has such a powerful weapon. I have conferred with the Council on International Emergency Affairs, and they are quite concerned with the idea of this powerful device being in the hands of one country. Therefore, we demand in all manner possible that the United States bring this device to the Council, that we might understand this dangerous invention better. Sir, with all due respect. Oh no, Grant thinks under his breath. When they start in with the all due respect bullshit, it means there is actually no respect. Grant mutes the call and speaks into his chief of staff's ear. Do we even know where this fucking thing is? Chambers says, no sir, not really. Just stall him so we can figure this all out. Grant takes the mute off. Nikolai, I am going to need some time to sift through this situation. As you know, this device we are talking about is owned and developed by a private tech company, and I will need their cooperation. The U.S. government can't just take it away, not without a court battle. I am sure we can find a solution that benefits all parties. Thank you, Mr. President, Brezhnev says, adding, please notify us when possible regarding the whereabouts of the device. I have been briefed on the situation and know that it is in hiding somewhere, in the southwest part of your country. Believe me, Mr. President, I will be able to tell you with high accuracy where the device is in a day or so. Thank you, Mr. Brezhnev, I look forward to our next call. Benton, get the National Security Director and a couple Joint Chiefs, and Andy Newhall, Secretary of Defense up here, ASAP. We need a plan, the whole flippin' world is pissed off at us right now. Oh, and who was that senator in those news reports you showed me? The President's asks. Senator Arthur Abramson, Democrat from Massachusetts, says the Chief of Staff. Fine, let's get them all up here so we can sort this thing out, says President Grant. The Grand Hall of the Elo Eloahim is opulent, jewel-like, rows of beautiful tables with hundreds of leaders and diplomats standing and seated. A large choir is singing on a grand stage. Thirty individuals are creating a sound so colorful and emotional that it brings intense pleasure to the listener. No rhythm, just a continuous wave of sound, like a chorus of Angels. Ambassador Lucentel walks into the ballroom, accompanied by Excelsior Andriel and his entourage. Everyone in the room stands, and the music gets louder and more state-like in texture. The group makes their way to the VIP table at the head of the room. Lucentel motions for everyone to be seated. He speaks to the gathering, be not afraid, power and glory to the one. Greetings and peace to all those who are gathered here now. I am delighted to introduce Excelsior Andriel, Commander of the Guardian and Excelsior of the New Empire. Boos and moans can be heard in the crowd. I am certain a number of you have concerns regarding the legitimacy of the New Empire, but must I remind you that it was and is the One that embraces this division in our society. We must embrace it as well. Excelsior, please a few words. Thank you, be not afraid. Power and glory unto the One. The two small greys that were sent to Earth to meet Barbara. Brad and Bill are trying different codes on an outside hatch at the bottom of the Elo Eloahim. They are using a small pad to break in. The hatch suddenly flips open, and the little greys enter the giant ship. Down on these lower levels, it is not so jewel-like, very plain, just utilitarian. They find a room with dozens of video monitors. They wave the pad in front of the video screens. Okay, let's go, one of them says. They quickly leave the way they came in. A half-mile above on the command bridge of the Elo Eloahim, an officer, sees something on his monitor. It is the two greys walking into the power room down below. Commander, take a look at this. The commander steps over and looks at the video screen. What is in that area? The commander asks. That is a distribution node for the converters. Could the converters be disabled from that location? The commander ponders. I don't think so, commander. However, the software that drives the matter converter is partially accessible from there. The commander calls out. Commander on duty to Ambassador Lucientel. Commander, this is not a good time right now. The ambassador says, speaking quietly. I am sorry, ambassador, but we have had an intrusion. Two New Empire operatives, dressed in maintenance robes, entered a very sensitive area of the ship. This could have the potential of putting us at a great disadvantage. Thank you, commander. Glory to the One. Commander, make urgent plans to return to Aetheria. Top speed. It shall be so, ambassador. The sound of the old barge, moving up to speed, can be heard in the ballroom. The choir sing louder in order to be heard above the engine noise. Excelsior Andriel leans to Ambassador Lucientel and says, so this is all an elaborate kidnapping scheme, ambassador. The ambassador chuckles, no, not at all Excelsior, but it was a real chance to collaborate. But your operatives broke into a sensitive part of the ship, and we feel it prudent to return to Aetheria. Don't worry. I will provide you and your party a shuttle to return to your vessel. It has to be before we cross the border net, as I am sure you are aware. Go now. My staff will escort you to the hangar deck, snaps Lucentel The blade is now pulled alongside the Elo Eloahim and is pacing it. Andriel and his group have boarded the shuttle and are exiting the Elo Eloahim. They can see a bright red net just ahead of them. The border net, only authorized Aetherians can cross over it into Old Dominion territory. |
2024.05.16 16:54 Lucky_6464 BrawlCap Presents: BSC 2024 May Monthly Qualifiers Recap
 | So... this was a wild weekend we all just watched. We saw Revenant AND NAVI fail to qualify this month from APAC, a lot of drama happening over in the EMEA region, we FINALLY saw the top South American team get signed and we played some fun Brawl Stars quizzes over at Reddy's stream during the NA Qualifiers. submitted by Lucky_6464 to BrawlStarsEsports [link] [comments] I would also like to point out that I am not responsible for any jinxing that may have happened this past weekend. No I won't be talking much about the drama that happened this past weekend. If you want to see more about it, I'm sure there are some posts on here or tweets that talk about it more in depth. I just want to talk about the Qualifiers and nothing else. Now that I got that out of the way, let's talk about what happened in the BSC 2024 May Monthly Qualifiers! The Thumbnail! Asia PacificMay Asia Pacific Monthly Qualifiers ResultsCrazy Raccoon: This time Crazy Raccoon were able to get a nice run in the Monthly Qualifiers after getting sent to Losers last month. Only dropping one set, this Japanese team is looking to claim their 2nd Monthly Final crown of the year and all but secure a spot for the World Finals. With teams like Revenant and NAVI not standing in their way this time, there is a good chance they can repeat. However with how much chaos that has happened this month, I guess anything is still possible. Still should be the favorites to win it all though. Rival Esports: The newly signed trio in Rival have somehow made their way to the Monthly Finals from Winners after getting a huge upset against NAVI to qualify. Rival will hopefully take advantage of there being no NAVI or Revenant this month, but they will have to go through a tough bracket as I think Why We Lose could be tougher than we all might think and Angelic with that ping advantage might be tricky to beat. If they at least make it to the Grand Finals, they should be in a good position to play in at least the LCQ assuming they keep qualifying. Angelic: Little to no scrim time? No problem! At least for Angelic as they were able to cruise through the Winners Bracket and never once had to deal with a tough opponent as HOW were unsuccessful in being able to play them. Angelic are looking to take advantage of there being no Revenant or NAVI this month and there is a good chance they could get a bigger lead on them and even Rival is they out-place them this month. If there was a time for the Hong Kong group to win, it's now. Coco Loco: This Coco team is going Loco as they were able to qualify from Winners thanks to Revenant choking against Team S2. While they were able to beat Team S2 in a close match, they still have some work to do as they ended up getting matched with 3RG who could be challenging for them. Despite the slow start they had, they are slowly climbing their way back up in the rankings and now might have a chance to stay in the LCQ race as long as things go their way. We'll see if they can get another MF match win this month! Master Entertainer: A new team has joined the Monthly Finals and their journey was quite interesting to say the least. Their bracket was going well until they faced Rival who would send them to Losers. Luckily, bracket RNG was on their side and while they did have a close call in one of their matches, it was pretty much smooth sailing the rest of the way. Now will hopefully be their chance to cause some chaos as they go up against Crazy Raccoon. It will be challenging, but from what we have seen so far this year, anything is possible. Team S2: The 2nd S team has arrived and they should definitely not be taken lightly despite this being their first Monthly Final. Their run was going well in Winners and they somehow managed to beat Revenant 2-0 in the process. Coco Loco would send them to Losers after a tough loss, but they would still just need one win to qualify. Their match against Octopus Primes wasn't easy, but they pulled through and will now get a chance to also cause some chaos. Can this Korean team stun us all and add Angelic to their list of top teams they've beaten this month? 3R Gaming: 3RG had a pretty easy road in the Winners Bracket, but they were unfortunately matched with Crazy Raccoon in the qualifying match. I think you could guess what happened there. What's even worse is that they got placed in the same section as Revenant and Nai Dug in Losers. Nai Dug were somehow victorious in their match against Revenant (yes RNT placed Top 16), but they were no match for 3RG had came out on top in a three set victory. Now they'll get a chance to climb their way back into the LCQ race, but their bracket ain't gonna be easy as they will have to go through Coco Loco and Raccoon. Why We Lose: After getting sent to the Losers Bracket early, WWL managed to get on a nice streak which also ended with them getting a win against HOW. Their next match was a close one and while they were able to win, NAVI was their next opponent and beating them would mean they would qualify. I think you can guess what happened. They somehow defeated the April Champions and sent them packing. While this was a brutal loss for NAVI and it hurting their chances to claim a Worlds spot, WWL is looking to cause some more chaos in APAC as they could stun us all and beat Rival. May Asia Pacific Monthly Finals Bracket Quarterfinal Match to Watch - Rival Esports VS. Why We Lose: I think WWL has the potential to upset Rival this month. I don't know why, but I just have a gut feeling that WWL is underrated. They do have a solid trio who did manage to take out the defending champs, but so did Rival in Winners. This is the only matchup I could honestly see end in a close battle with maybe CL VS. 3RG being a contender. At this time I would still lean towards Rival, but we'll see what the scrims will have to say about that. EMEAMay EMEA Monthly Qualifiers ResultsF/A Jordan 4's: This trio of players were literally assembled 24 hours before the qualifiers started, yet somehow they not only managed to qualify directly to Winners, but they also beat arguably the best team in the region in SK Gaming (they didn't even drop a set). Despite all the drama surrounding this team with Decaii getting perma banned, they were able to pick up Blaksxy who will likely be filling in for him. Also glad to see Buzko playing in his first Monthly Final, but I did not expect it to be with this FA roster. Can they beat Reverso though? Oceanus Gaming: Three Monthly Qualifiers, zero set losses so far. It was honestly a breeze for Oceanus as they never really had to play a super difficult opponent once. Didn't even have to face BC* who were sent to Losers early. A clean bracket for these group, but unfortunately they did not get lucky with the MF bracket RNG as their first opponent will be against HMBLE. This is likely a do or die moment for Oceanus and losing here would hurt them a bit, but luckily for them ZETA & SK will be playing each other in the Quarterfinals so they'll still have a chance even if they lose to HMBLE. Reply Totem: Totem is back and honestly about damn time. Totem were able to find their form again this month and even managed to beat HMBLE to qualify directly from Winners. While SK did qualify from the Losers Bracket, they were thankfully not paired up with them this time. Instead they got an opponent who will be playing in their first Monthly Final this year in Ladder>Skill. If Totem somehow don't beat them though next week, I might start doubting them again. Please just win one match on the big stage. ZETA DIVISION: Hold on let me put on my surprised face real quick. Wow ZETA qualified from Winners again? That's so crazy! Who could've seen this coming? But for real though this is pretty good for ZETA as they were able to easily qualify directly from Winners and managed to beat Eclipsar in the process. ZETA will be looking to defend their Monthly Final crown and try to win a second straight. They were paired up with SK in their first match, but if they win that they should be golden for a Grand Finals spot. It's never easy winning multiple in the most competitive region, but these guys make it look easy. Will they win another Monthly Final and almost all but guarantee a spot in Worlds? Ladder>Skill: Before I get into anything I just want to say congrats on this team winning against all odds and qualifying for the Monthly Finals for the first time together. This is truly an accomplishment for them and I wish them nothing but the best this weekend against Totem. Now on to the situation, I'll say is that this was very unfortunate for BC that they had to go out like that. A bug ending their chances of qualifying this month and now made it anyones race to claim that final LCQ spot, that's brutal. All you can do now is just hope things work in your favor in the final two months of the season. Treat every game like it could be your last and give it your all moving forward. That's all I'll say about the situation. Reverso Gaming EU: Ay another new team has joined the Monthly Finals! And it's another Italian group too! From what I have heard about them, this group managed to claw their way through the Qualifiers and somehow managed to upset FUT Esports and sent them to Losers. While they weren't able to take down Jordans in the following round, they were able to secure a win against AoF in their Qualifying Match. The bracket RNG gods blessed them with this qualification and they blessed them again by giving them a rematch against Jordan. They were close against them last time so I think they could maybe stand a chance. SK Gaming: Losing to Jordan early in the bracket meant that they would likely have to go through a gauntlet of tough teams in the Losers Bracket as they would have to go up against two solid teams in FUT and Eclipsar. Wait hold on scratch that. I meant Eclipsar and Pale Fox who somehow upset FUT in Losers Top 24 (I watched that match on Teddie's stream and it was insane). PFE did give SK a run for their money, but SK were able to pull through in the end. Eclipsar were no match for them either and that's how they somehow managed to qualify despite all of that happening. Now they'll have to go up against... ZETA. Man they bracket RNG gods were not kind at all this month. HMBLE: This was a decent month for HMBLE overall I'd say. While they weren't able to defeat Totem in their Winners Qualifying Match, they were able to secure an easy opponent for them to qualify from Losers. All was going well until it was revealed they would be going up against Oceanus. And possibly going against Totem in the following round if they beat them. Man can HMBLE ever catch a break this year? First coming up short in the previous two Grand Finals and now this. I will say if they manage to win it all this month, this will be the team to beat the rest of the season. Will their bracket be too much for them to handle, or will we hold a funeral for Symantec's table after he chops it in half with his might fist? May EMEA Monthly Finals Bracket Quarterfinal Match to Watch - ZETA DIVISION VS. SK Gaming: It was either this matchup or Oceanus VS. HMBLE and I think we can all agree that a battle between the two teams that have won a Monthly Final so far this year deserves to be in the MUST WATCH section. The fact that this is a Quarterfinals Match of all things is very wild and bold of the BSC admins, but hey that just means that both teams gotta give it their all if they want to possibly all but secure a Worlds spot this year. The winner likely plays in Grands too as their next round opponents should be easy for both of them. The loser of this match should still be in the Worlds race, but it might be harder to directly qualify with there being two more Monthly Finals after this one. South AmericaMay South America Monthly Qualifiers ResultsCalabresos F/A: This team has yet to lose a single match so far this season as they were able to easily cruise through their bracket without really breaking much of a sweat. Some more good news for them is that their bracket does look pretty easy up until the Grand Finals which is good for them since it means they'll be getting closer to claiming that Worlds spot sooner than we had expected. Calabresos were also recently signed by Spacestation Gaming who dropped their NA roster due to... reasons I won't talk about here, but hey glad to see these guys get signed finally. Team Queso: Things have been going pretty well for TQ so far this month. They managed to breeze their way through an easy bracket up until they had to face Marruecos. It was a close battle, but TQ would come out on top in the end and qualify from Winners. Their LCQ hopes remain pretty hopeful as not only were they able to get a newcomer in the BSC Monthly Finals scene, but one of the teams they were competing with in SKC failed to qualify. If there was a time to give it their all, it'd be this month as a deep run could put them in a good position to take an LCQ spot. F/A MiniPekkas: The MiniPekkas had no trouble in the Qualifiers as they managed to not drop a single set the entire qualifier which included a win against UDP in their final Qualifier match. They will be playing against UDP again in their first match of the Monthly Finals, but they are looking pretty good as of late to the point where I think if they go on a deep run this season, they should be able to at least secure an LCQ spot thanks to SKC not qualifying. Reis Do PL: RDP got pretty lucky they weren't able to face SKC in their bracket. They did have to take on Olimpo who was a bit of a challenge, but they managed to pull through and won the following match against CFZ to qualify. Now they'll have to go up against Marruecos who will finally get to show who they really are after playing against Calabresos in the previous two Monthly Finals. This will be a crucial Monthly Final for RDP as a win would keep their LCQ hopes alive. Marruecos: Marruecos had a pretty easy bracket to start off as nobody was super challenging for them up until the final Winners Match against Queso. It was a hard fought battle, but they came up just short and had to survive SKC in their Losers match. SKC forfeited their first Winners match and had to go on a deep Losers run in order to survive, but after a back and forth battle, Marruecos came out on top in the end and sent SKC home packing early. This win definitely helped Marruecos and their chance of claiming an LCQ spot. While they might have to face RDP in the Quarterfinals, at least they don't have to deal with Calabresos again. Olimpo Squad: Olimpo had to go through a somewhat deep Losers run after losing against RDP in a close match. Luckily they were able to breeze through their next two matches after that and while their match against Blue lock was super close with every set ending in three games, Olimpo came out on top and qualified. Now Olimpo will have to take on the best team in the region as their first opponent in the Monthly Finals. While it might be tough for them to beat, from what we have seen in BSC this year, anything is possible. Mochilas: Another new team has arrived in the South America Monthly Finals and it's a Brazilian team I'm not super familiar with. Looking at their bracket though, it seems they were able to beat Level who made it to the Monthly Finals last month, but they were quickly shut down by Blue lock in the match after that. While they did have to win three Losers matches to qualify, it wasn't super difficult for them as Mochilas managed to win three straight only having issues in one match during that run. Now Mochilas will be facing Queso in their first Monthly Finals together which will certainly be their toughest challenge yet. Urubus Do Pix: A pretty good showing for UDP overall as this Brazilian team had little to no trouble up until their final two matches of the Qualifiers. A loss against the MiniPekkas in the Winners bracket still put them in a win and in scenario, but UDP were able to secure a win against Arranca Diu in a close three set victory. Now they'll be out to get revenge as they will play the MiniPekkas in a rematch in their first Monthly Finals match. May South America Monthly Finals Bracket Quarterfinal Match to Watch - Reis Do PL VS. Marruecos: To me this is the matchup I think that will be the most crucial one for both teams on their quest to claim an LCQ spot. RDP has shown they can take on the best in this region as they almost beat the MiniPekkas last month while Marruecos despite a slow start, have shown they are capable of beating good teams like SKC as well. The winner of this match keeps their LCQ hopes alive for now while the loser might have to rely on a miracle in order to qualify. This should be a good one to watch that will likely get put on the B Stream. North AmericaMay North America Monthly Qualifiers ResultsCT Esports: The former Spacestation roster minus RBM & toast have teamed up with rookie Evex to see if they could maybe keep their LCQ hopes alive since they were able to secure their points from the previous two months. Well, they somehow managed to breeze through the Winners bracket up until their match against Tribe. It was a close contest between these two teams, but CTE managed to pull through in the end in a massive upset. Things keep on getting better for them as the bracket RNG gods blessed them and gave them Homeless as their first match. We'll see how good this group can play on the big stage and I can't wait to see Evex play next weekend. West Coast FA: West Coast introduced a new member to the team in Jheart after cutting Shine from the group, but that didn't stop them from dominating their section of the bracket. They did actually manage to struggle in two of their final three matches going up against the former DC Team with toast on it and Complexity, but they prevailed and a sweep against the Oinkers would clinch them a Monthly Finals spot from Winners. Now they'll have to go up against Luminosity who should be a challenge for this group, but we'll see if they'll be able to get their first Monthly Final match win of the season. Juan Carlos Team: The recently signed JCT group now with a solid staff managed to prove why they are now considered a serious contender for a Worlds spot this year. They were not dropping a single set all the way up to their final match where they managed to beat Luminosity in a three set victory to qualify. Everything went their way this qualifier and things ended up getting better as they will be facing a Motomamis team dealing with ping issues in their first match. We'll see if they can continue this win streak next weekend and we'll see which new org ended up signing them next week as well. STMN: After falling just short of a Monthly Finals crown, STMN got back to work in this qualifier and did not disappoint whatsoever as they easily climbed their way through the Winners side dealing with only one small bump along the road in Motomamis. Unfortunately for STMN, they have to deal with an even bumpier road this month as they will likely be getting a challenging opponent no matter who they face in each round. Their first opponent being Tribe whom they will be facing off in a competitive setting in about a year. This will be crucial for STMN as a win here will keep their Worlds hopes alive while a loss could mean they would have to start from the LCQ... if they even make it there that is. Luminosity: After failing to qualify last month due to Patchy being absent, Luminosity did manage to come back a bit stronger. While they did fall to JCT in their Winners qualifying match, they would end up having to face the Real Ones who were no trouble for them at all. Their bracket for the Monthly Finals though will be tough to get through and while their first opponent will be up against West Coast, their next match (if they win) will be tougher as they will have to get through either Tribe or STMN. Can they pick up the slack and go on a deep run to stay alive in the race to Worlds? Motomamis FA: This FA group with newly added player RBM managed to perform well in their first qualifier together. A solid showing overall only dropping one match and two sets the entire qualifier with their only losses being against STMN. While they were able to qualify by beating a decent NA group in IX Squares, they still have a lot of work to do against JCT in the Monthly Finals. With the ping disadvantage they'll have the entire tournament it certainly won't be easy, but hopefully having RBM on their team will be the saving grace they need to help keep it up in the race for a postseason spot. Tribe Gaming: A good start as always from Tribe, but things did end up taking an unexpected turn as Evex would finally end up beating Tribe under CTE and send Tribe to Losers after failing to do so back in March. While Tribe were able to easily qualify with a win over 512 the next day, the cracks are slowing showing as they have been struggling a bit lately against some of the better teams in NA. With a classic rivalry matchup against STMN coming up, Tribe will need to sharpen their axes and prepare themselves for a crucial battle in order to keep their lead on the NA leaderboards. Homeless: These Homeless players had a tough challenge ahead of them as they no longer had Steel nor Evex on their team. Luckily with the addition of a veteran player in Shine on their team, they were able to at least make some progress in Winners before losing to Luminosity in a close three set match. They then had to win three straight matches to qualify and luckily for them, they didn't have much issue with any of their opponents (except for maybe one team named Game Two Players). The Oinkers were no issue and we finally get to see tacos and Vegeta in their first Monthly Final, but I think Evex and CT Esports might want to put an end to their run next weekend. We'll see if Homeless can go from rags to riches in the Monthly Finals, but just like in real life it won't be easy. May North America Monthly Finals Bracket Quarterfinal Match to Watch - STMN VS. Tribe Gaming: The fact that this is a Quarterfinals match is just criminal, but hey we at least get to see a classic NA rivalry that we only saw once last year due to subregions. Tribe is looking to have a better month after getting upset by JCT last month while STMN is looking to stay alive in at least the LCQ race. A win for Tribe could mean STMN's chances of making Worlds will be near impossible and they will have to try for an LCQ spot, but a win for STMN (and maybe a deep run) could mean it would be anyones game to claim one of the Worlds spots. A crucial match for both teams and the winner of this match would have to likely go up against Luminosity which will definitely be fun to watch. Get your popcorn ready for the lower half of the bracket because it's definitely gonna be absolute cinema watching all four teams fighting for that Grand Finals spot. ConclusionThat should be everything you need to know about this Monthly Qualifier. Let me know who you think will win the Monthly Finals from each region in the comments below. I'll be releasing my Expert Predictions next Thursday (or later depending on when I get my scrim data).I've noticed there have been a lot more people joining this Subreddit lately. I just want to say if you are new here, welcome and I hope you enjoy your stay here! We are getting pretty close to 2,500 members Thank you all for reading this recap! Please give this post an upvote if you liked it and feel free to support me on Twitter as well by giving me a follow (link will be at the bottom of this post). This is Lucky Buzzing Off, and I will see you all in the next post! CreditsLucky jinxing Revenant & NAVI (@Lucky_64B)Lucky jinxing SK & FUT kinda (@Lucky_64B) Reddy420 (Literally from my iPhone) SK & FUT UPSET!!! (@TeddieCasts) Filippo Screenshot of Game Lobby (@filippo_bs) Gas needing a team for MQ for "fun" (@Gas_brawls) Spacestation Gaming signing Calabresos announcement (@Spacestation) Monthly Finals Brackets (@Brawl_esports) All Team Logos were taken from Liquipedia All Sprays from the Partnered Orgs were taken from the Supercell Fan Kit All Graphics were made by Lucky84 (go follow him on Twitter) I AM NOT SORRY FOR JINXING REVENANT & NAVI! |