Reebok cross trainer spares

haunted house

2024.05.15 03:16 planettxri haunted house

ok so this happened when i was about 6 or 7 (im 18 now) but me, my mom and my 2 brothers moved into this house which was in the middle of nowhere basically. there was one house which was about a 2 minute walk from ours and a petrol/gas station 5 minutes away. this was a nice house for the area but smt seemed off from the beginning. there was a little garage beside the house which came as part of the property which inside had an empty coffin and crosses all over the walls. weird but yk could have been for a movie or for halloween or smt. straight away there was strange things happening. everyday we would wake up and all the drawers in the kitchen would be open (this also included oven, fridge and microwave) maybe it was me or my brothers sleep walking? i had a few times i would sleep walk when i was 4 and 5 but i wouldn’t open anything. weird. things started going missing when we first moved in but would be found in weird places, shower, inside the oven, inside the fridge, all harmless stuff. once my brother (he was 13/14) at the time, was home alone because he was sick, he was playing some games on his playstation but he got hungry, he left his controller on his bed and went to the kitchen to get food, he came back and his controller was gone, maybe he brought it to the kitchen with him and didn’t realise? no, wasn’t there, he started checking all the rooms and couldn’t find it, then he started looking again and went into one of the spare bedrooms (my granny and grandad used it whenever they would visit and they weren’t there at the time so no one would go in there) and the controller was placed on the middle of the floor. he was hella creeped out and called my mom to come home lol. the first night we moved into the house i started crying and screaming in my sleep which has never happened before. i kept crying about the man in my window so for a few nights i slept with my mom but then i was back in my room but with the door open and light on. i would always talk about a man around the property but there was never actually anyone there. my granny one day walked into the living room (which had a rocking chair from the previous owners) and asked my mom who the man in the chair was (my granny doesn’t speak any english so she could ask in polish) my mom had no idea what she was talking about since there was no man there. me and my granny talked about the same man because we would describe him the same, he had a cowboy hat, jeans and a red shirt (kind of like a cowboy tbh). me and my whole family were always scared since after a few weeks we would wake up with scratches on our bodies (i would have them the worst) so whenever we were all home we would spend our time in the living room together bc we were scared. one day my mom was still awake watching tv in her room and she went to the bathroom and when she walked out (she was half asleep) and saw a child and she just said go back to sleep. she went to sleep and didn’t think of it until the next morning. she was a child which could have been me but no. it was a boy. maybe my brothers? they were teenagers and were tall. this child was my height but a boy and im a girl. we still have no idea who this child or man were. anyways we only lived there for 4 months lol there’s many more stories but it’s 2am and im tired!!
submitted by planettxri to scarystories [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 03:02 JalopyTilapia I was miraculously “cured” of SM, AMA! Now that I can speak, how can I help the SM community, including all of you?

Hello everyone! Truly and sincerely, since I have never communicated or met in any form or fashion another individual with SM, ever; until now, thanks to this subreddit.
I had terrible SM all my life until 7 years ago, when an antidepressant cured me like a software update. Not a cure since I will slip back into the hellish SM world if I stop taking it, but it’s still nothing less than a miracle. (If someone wants to know the specific Rx, message me or comment below. I don’t want to come across pushing drug, but it literally saved my life).
The only way I can describe life now is like I got transported to the next universe over in the multiverse that is EXACTLY the same as ours, except this new universe I am me but without selective mutism. No side effects, and the same exact me that has been me all my life.
It’s not all rosy, since conceptually this messes with reality and the very definition of what it means to be alive, but that’s peanuts compared to the hellish life I have been miraculously spared from.
Life isn’t all rosy, all new health problems cropped up and I’ve been unable to work for the past several years with no end in sight without a diagnosis, so there’s nothing about my life to envy. In every single way, my life has gotten worse, with no end in sight, but I lived long enough to experience a miracle of life without SM so life is beautiful! Not my life mind you, but appreciating the grandness of life and now able to participate if I wish.
To each and every one of you NEVER stop looking for a cure or a treatment. In the meantime, I am still there in the trenches with you, I may have been “saved” but I would rather stay here and help and cope myself because only you all really care about how serious SM is.
————————————
For my first post, out of respect for everyone still suffering, I wanted to ask a couple questions:
(A) what can I DO for the SM community, generally or specifically? Or for anyone here?
I feel like I’m like a Dr. Doolittle between SM survivors (that’s what we all are, and you are ALL survivors every day), having experienced severe SM and now completely without it. How can I spread awareness? I literally thought about doing a cross-country drive for awareness, via signage on the vehicle itself or distributing pamphlets about SM in various places. I need to help MY people (all of you), and I’m not going to stop.
(B) What can I tell you about being on the “other side” of SM? Something you always wanted to “ask” a person “without SM”?
For example:
• What would be socially acceptable to do or seen as acceptable in situation __. • Any coping/survival strategies that helped me along the way • Would people generally would notice or care if I did, or did not do, ___.
[I found that with SM it was hard to know what was socially acceptable (beyond quiet politeness), but now, my brain is “free” to see it — and all of your brains are just as capable, but the disease prevents our higher level thinking to notice the trends of what is or isn’t acceptable that we see around us. I truly believe That information IS in our brains (bc there is no way my antidepressant ‘gave me’ all this innate knowledge of knowing what to do or how to do it), but the persistent feelings of fear stimulate our amygdala to trigger flight/flight instinct or in our case often, freeze, as if literally frozen]
You are not alone, you are never alone, and it feels so good to finally know that myself.
submitted by JalopyTilapia to selectivemutism [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 02:32 cookiesarenomnom Cross fit is horrible!

I'm 37F who is currently at 220. I've lost 40 lbs and hit a big plateau. So I decided to splurge for the next couple of months and hired a personal trainer at cross fit once a week. Did my first session today and it was hard as shit! Good lord I thought I was getting in better shape the last few months working out, and I was WRONG. It kicked my ass. Don't get me wrong, it's what I need to up my game, but I hated every minute of it. Like I don't think I can work out the rest of the week. I stand for a living so my legs are getting zero rest. Wow, hardest 45 minutes of this whole weight loss journey. Why did I do this to myself?!
submitted by cookiesarenomnom to loseit [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:29 Mrmander20 [Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms] 4 C6.2: A Symphony of Friendship and Frogs

At the world’s top college of magic and technology, every day brings a new discovery -and a new disaster. The advanced experiments of the college students tend to be both ambitious and apocalyptic, with the end of the world only prevented by a mysterious time loop, and a small handful of students who retain their memories.
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
[Previous Chapter][Patreon][Cover Art]
“Four years on and the headache still sucks,” Vell groaned to himself.
Though most of the loopers had managed to make it to midnight alive, they had nothing to show for it but headaches. They had not succeeded in digging Cane out of the rubble, or investigating his apparent ghost theory in any other way. That was a complication, but not a fatal one. They had some leads to work with, at least, and Vell knew where to get started on the ghost angle. Vell gladly made the call that would get them started.
“Goooooood morning Mr. Harlan,” Harley chimed. “What’s happening?”
“Frog invasions, among other problems,” Vell grumbled.
“Oh, that’s a time loop headache if I ever heard it,” Harley said. She’d run into that affliction more than a few times.
“Yeah, it’s not great,” Vell said. “Listen, do you still have Garrett’s number?”
“Ooh, ghost problems, eh?” Harley said. “I’ll text it to you.”
“Thanks. I kind of got to get right to it, so I’ll have to give you the details later, alright? Love you, Harley.”
“Love you too, bud,” Harley said. “Say hi to Garret for me.”
Vell hung up the first call and braced himself for the second. He liked Garret, but he could also be a lot to deal with -a fact well-demonstrated by the phone call beginning with Garret’s theme music blaring over the phone. Once the bombastic rock and roll stopped, Vell was disappointed to hear a mechanical beep indicate the start of an answering machine message.
“Hi, you’ve reached Garret Geist, Ghost Getter,” the message said, in Garrett’s usual southern california drawl. “I’m currently on a long-term submersible mission to exorcise the ghosts of shipwreck victims who’ve been trapped undersea for centuries.”
“What?”
Vell knew it was a recording, but needed to voice his offense anyway. It was hard to truly be mad knowing Garrett was doing something so incredibly heroic, though.
“I should be back to the surface and ready to help in a few days, so please leave a message and I’ll get to you as soon as I can!”
The automated message clicked again and fell silent. Vell hung up the phone and let out a low groan of despair.
“Okay, we’re not screwed yet,” Vell said. “Just need to wait a bit.”
Vell brushed his teeth and rushed through breakfast, and then, right on cue, heard a knock on his door. He whipped it open to find a bothersome scientist once again at his door.
“Hi, good morning,” Vell said, as he opened the door. “You here to bother me about Quenay?”
“I- uh, I have some very interesting theories.”
“I’m sure you do,” Vell said. “If you can just hold on one second…”
Vell paused and waited. The bothersome student also waited, at least for a few seconds.
“What exactly are we waiting for?”
“This.”
Cane grabbed the student by the collar and yanked them away from the door. Vell invited him in and slammed the door shut behind them to really drive the point home.
“Thank you for that,” Vell said. “Did you need something?”
“Just to talk to you,” Cane said. “I was trying to get people together to hang out tonight. Figured you’d want in, if you’re not too busy.”
“I could probably make it, I just have to…”
Vell froze. He really should’ve come up with these lies in advance.
“You good, Vell?”
“I, uh, sorry, just losing track of things, mentally,” Vell said. “I’ve had a lot of people, uh, ask me for help with things.”
“What kind of things?” Cane said. “You need a hand?”
“Maybe.”
Vell contemplated how to proceed for a moment, and then figured he’d probably built up enough good will with Cane over the past four years he could just dive right in.
“You ever heard about frog ghosts?”
“Yeah,” Cane said, without so much as blinking.
“Oh, cool,” Vell said. “What about them?”
“Well, hold on, are you talking about frog ghosts as in the ghost of frogs, or a ghost related to frogs?”
“Either or, I guess?”
“Okay, because I don’t know anything about any ghostly frogs,” Cane said. “There is supposedly the ghost of a guy obsessed with frogs on campus, though.”
“Interesting. Tell me about the frog guy.”
“I don’t know all the details, it was kind of an urban legend even when my brother came here about a decade back,” Cane said. “All he ever told me was the this frog-obsessed sophomore died while studying, and he haunts the basement of the sophomore dorms, I guess. ‘Some say you can still hear faint croaking in the basement’ and all that horror story shit.”
“Interesting,” Vell said, again. “Let me look into that and we’ll circle back later, alright? I gotta go, see you.”
“Vell-”
“Sorry, kind of in a hurry, bud,” Vell said, as he left and shut the door behind.
“This is your dorm, dude,” Cane said.
***
“You were not exaggerating about this headache,” Alex said.
“We warned you,” Kim said. “Man, it’s almost better to die.”
“How do you have a headache, you’re made of metal!”
“It’s complicated,” Kim said. Her synthetic body did not spare her from the time loop headache, no matter how she rebuilt herself.
“Good morning everyone,” Helena said, as she whacked the door open with a crutch. “What did I miss?”
“Quiet down a little, please” Hawke said.
“Why?”
“Do you not have a headache too?”
“No, I died pretty early,” Helena said. “Got a frog on me.”
“You died from a frog touching you? What condition do you have that causes that?”
“Well it was a poison dart frog, so I guess ‘being alive’,” Helena said. Samson pursed his lips and said nothing. “What did you all get up to while I was busy being dead?”
“Vell found out the frogs were summoned by a weird frog-obsessed ghost,” Hawke said. “He apparently knows a guy who might be able to help.”
The loopers then proceeded to relax and chat about frogs, ghosts, and other miscellaneous topics for about seven minutes, which made it a lot less dramatic when Vell barged in and announced Garret would be unable to help.
“Oh come on,” Kim snapped. “What’s the point of knowing a ghost hunter if he never helps hunt ghosts?”
“He’s on some undersea mission to rescue lost souls,” Vell said. “Which makes it really hard to be mad at him.”
“And yet I manage,” Kim said. She didn’t begrudge Garret personally, but she had been hoping for their first easy win of the year. All the apocalypses thus far had been a major pain in the ass.
“Aren’t you people supposed to be able to handle things like this?”
“Yes, Alex, and we will,” Vell said. “Just would’ve been nice to have a professional on the job.”
“I’ll get the ghostbusting stuff ready,” Hawke sighed. He would’ve loved a chance to outsource their daily nonsense.
“Keep it on standby for now,” Vell said. “Ghosts have unfinished business or regrets. If we can help our ghost deal with whatever frog-related business he’s got going on, maybe we can fix this without having to bust anyone.”
“That’s your plan?” Alex said. “Be nice to the ghost that crushed a building and hope it goes away?”
“Yes,” Vell said, with a completely straight face. “And busting is plan B.”
“Bustin’ makes me feel good,” Hawke sang, as he grabbed all their various ghostbusting gear.
“True professionals at work,” Alex scoffed. Everyone else rolled their eyes and got back to work.
“Vell is an old pro at being nice to people,” Kim said. “Just ask Helena’s sister.”
“Don’t pat yourself on the back, Joan’s incredibly susceptible to manipulation,” Helena said. It was disturbing she’d say that, and even more disturbing she knew that. “That said, anyone dumb enough to get stuck as a ghost for decades will probably buy into your routine just as easily.”
“Thanks for your input,” Vell said. “I’m just going to go ahead and get started.”
He said that both because it was important and because it was an excuse to get away from Alex and Helena faster.
“Need any backup?” Samson asked, for similar reasons.
“I’ll check it out solo first,” Vell said. Historically speaking, he was the best people-pleaser, a dubious honor at best, but one that came in handy when dealing with a frog-summoning ghost. “I’ll let you know if I need backup.”
“Or busting,” Hawke said.
“Or busting,” Vell agreed. “I have to find out where the ghost is, for starters. I’ll be in touch soon.”
***
Finding the lair of the ghost was the first hurdle. As it turned out, the sophomore dorms had a lot of basements. Every building on campus had a lot of basements, so Vell was not all that surprised. At least these basements didn’t have booby traps or old experiment equipment in them. They mostly just had a lot of junk. Vell kicked aside some old food wrappers and scanned the room.
“Why do people treat these empty rooms like dumping grounds?”
“People are usually different when they think no one is watching.”
Vell whipped around and saw a transparent head poking through one of the nearby walls. A ghost if Vell had ever seen one.
“Oh, hi,” Vell said. “Uh, weird question, how do you feel about frogs?”
“I’m ambivalent at best,” the ghost said. “Are you looking for the frog guy? Because he haunts two rooms over.”
The ghost pointed to the right, down the hall, and Vell looked that way.
“Thanks,” Vell said. He took a few steps towards the door before spinning around to face the other ghost again. “Uh, do you need any help like, moving on? Finishing unfinished business?”
“Nah, we get wifi down here, so I don’t mind just chilling,” the ghost said. “Thanks for offering though.”
The ghost drew back into the wall and vanished from sight. While Vell was painfully curious as to how a ghost accessed wifi, he decided it was time to move on. The frog ghost was apparently close by, after all.
Vell followed the wifi ghost’s directions and hopped two doors down, barging into a subterranean room that was uncomfortably moist and smelled of mud and rainwater. Condensation dripped from the ceiling and onto Vell’s back, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. Unlike other rooms, this one was completely free of any garbage, but Vell took no comfort in that.
“Hello? Anybody home?”
A chill ran down Vell’s spine that definitely was not another drop of water. He waited two seconds, took a deep breath, and turned around.
“Hello.”
Vell was just inches away from another transparent face. This one had a slight green tint, with wide set eyes and a broad, flat mouth. Vell wondered if the similarities to a frog had been there during this person’s life, or if they just liked frogs so much their ghost had slowly shifted to reflect their passion.
“Hey! Hi, uh, nice to meet you,” Vell mumbled. “I’m Vell.”
“I’m Raine.”
“Neat, nice name,” Vell said. If Raine noticed the awkward hesitation in the compliment, he didn’t show it. “So, uh, I was wondering, well, I heard you were the guy to ask about frogs.”
The already wide eyes of the ghost got even wider, and visible excitement trembled through their spectral form. Vell began to think he may have made a mistake.
***
“So even though it’s the biggest frog in the America’s, the helmeted water toad is still only half the size of the Goliath frog,” Raine said. “Which must be wild for the helmeted water toad. Could you imagine crossing an ocean and finding out the people who live there are literally twice your size?”
“Must be pretty mindblowing, yeah,” Vell said.
“And that’s not even going into the real extremes,” Raine said. “Do you remember our pal P. Amauensis?”
“How could I forget,” Vell said, about something he had definitely forgotten.
“Not just the world’s smallest frog, but maybe the world’s smallest vertebrate,” Raine said. “Only seven point seven millimeters long, a literal fraction of the Goliath frog! Could you imagine meeting someone who’s only as big as your toe?”
“I actually did, once,” Vell said. “Shrink ray.”
“Oh. Was...was it weird?”
“A little,” Vell said.
“Wow. You almost know what it’s like to be a Goliath frog meeting a P. Amauensis,” Raine said. “I’m so jealous.”
“Yeah, I’ve done a lot of interesting stuff,” Vell said. “What about you, what’d you get up to when you weren’t studying frogs?”
Raine tilted his spectral head and stared blankly at Vell.
“You did do things other than study frogs, right?”
“Not if I could help it,” Raine said.
“Okay, uh...what did you like to eat?”
“Oh, I just ate food whenever I was hungry,” Raine said. “What I really liked to do was gather samples of different bugs and other frog dietary staples, so I could try to get a sense of their diet for myself.”
“Like, cooked bugs, or just raw, living bugs,” Vell said. He’d eaten a few different varieties of cooked bugs, just for the experience, but couldn’t imagine eating raw insects.
“If I could find them, yeah, live ones,” Raine said. “It got pretty hard after I got banned from the entomology department.”
“That’d do it,” Vell said. “So, did you, uh, go swimming a lot?”
“Oh yeah, all the time,” Raine said. “Until I got banned from the pools too. Trying to swim like a frog doesn’t work very well, and they got sick of having to rescue me, I guess.”
“You could’ve just swam like a person.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To...I don’t know,” Vell said. He was starting to feel like Raine’s entire life and unlife revolved around frogs. “Did you ever do anything, I don’t know, human?”
“Oh, I studied frogs,” Raine said. “Frogs lack the self-awareness to understand frogs. It’s their only flaw, really.”
“I see. So what’s your favorite frog?”
As expected, this set off a long rant, as Raine found it hard to pick a favorite and had to start listing pros and cons of various frog species. It was not exactly scintillating conversation, but it kept Raine talking instead of somehow summoning frogs. Vell kept reminding himself that was the real goal. He was not here to have a pleasant chat, he was here to prevent the frogpocalypse. Anything that kept Raine ranting was good. He was saving the world.
As Raine started ranking every existing frog species by maximum jump distance, Vell kept repeating that to himself. Saving the world, one frog jump strength at a time.
submitted by Mrmander20 to redditserials [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:16 Haunting-Band-2763 Hazbin Hotel - Episode 1, Season 1: Overture - (Genderswap)

(An animation shows black and white clouds parting)
Charles: (Off-screen) Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil. Lucy was one of these angels. She was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But she was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt her way of thinking was dangerous to the perder of their world. So she watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Eve (I couldn't think of a female name that looked like Adam) and Lilian. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Eve demanded control and Lilian refused to submit to her will. He fled the garden. Drawn in by his fierce independence, Lucy found him and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Eve's new groom, Adam, who gladly accepted. But this gift came with a curse. For the single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucy and her love into the dark pit she had created, never allowing her to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. Ashamed, Lucy lost her will to dream. But Lilian thrived, empowering demon-kind with his voice and his songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision. That every year, they would send down an army, an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. But Lilian's hope remained. And his dream was passed down to their precious son, the Prince of Hell. (The prince shuts the "Story Of Hell" book) (On-screen) Don't worry, Dad. I'll make you proud. (He holds a key)
Vagner: Charles?
Charles: Augh! (The key turns into a cat) Oh, shit. Did you hear all that?
Vagner: Uh... Yeah, I was right there.
Charles: Sorry. I get worked up after an extermination happens. This story helps.
Vagner: (chuckles) I know. Don't worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?
Charles: I'm fine, just...Thinking, ya know, family stuff.
Vagner: Did you hear from your dad yet?
(Charles shakes his head saying no)
Vagner: Oof. How long has it been now?
Charles: Not that long, only...Seven...Years...Off something important, I'm sure. But this kingdom was something he really cared about. Something I care about.
Vagner: Well, at least you aren't alone.
Charles: I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work.
Vagner: It will. I have faith in you.
(The cat hopes on Charles)
Vagner: All right. Come on. Alice says she has something to show us.
(Vagner heads to the door and Charles look out of the window and see Hell on fire and goes)
(A commercial plays)
Alice: Well, hello there you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do. That's why you're in Hell! But what would you say there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucy's delusional son Charleson Morningstar! Come place your fate in his inexperienced hands as he tries to work through his mommy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun thing! Such as somewhat functional staff! And 24 hour Pest Control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident. Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! You last desperate attempt at salvation starts here.
(The tv suits off)
Alice: So, what'd ya' think?
Vagner: I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?!
Charles: Uh, yeah, one note...Alice, I mean...First off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um...Maybe the tone is a bit...Off? We want people to want to come here, this makes it look...Ummm...
Vagner: Bad. The word you're looking for is "bad".
Alice: Funny, I was going for hilarious!
Vagner: It didn't explain anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point.
Charles: Vagner is right, Alice. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to help them.
Alice: Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show! The proper medium to express oneself! But YOU insisted on this noisy picture box adversiment! So I had a little fun with it.
Vagner: Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it? (Stand on the sofa) Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run the hotel! Instead, you're mocking us. Nobody's going to want to come to a place that a powerful overlord like you thinks is a waste of time!
(A demon on a sofa raises her hand)
Vagner: What?
Angela: If'n ya filmin' a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?
Vagner: Angela, you're a porn star.
Angela: A famous porn star. I'll have the horniest sinners knockin' these walls down to get in.
Vagner: We are not filming a porn as a commercial.
Angela: Why not? Sex sells, don't it? I swear if you film me goin' at it with mistress fancy-talk-creepy-voice here, you'd rollin' in participants willin' to stay at this tacky hotel.
Alice: Haha! Never going to happen!
Charles: Angela, I appreciate you wanting to use you special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but...I really don't want to exploit you, in that way!
Angela: Oh, please, baby. This body was made to be exploited. I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs. I got the lung capacity-- Oh-oh I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes...
(Charles laughs uncomfortably and his phone rings with his mom calling)
Angela: The small tits that make everyone think I'm a man...
Charles: Uhhh, hold that thought. I'll be right back! (Walks away)
Angela: I could keep goin' all night, baby.
(Charles breathes and answers the phone)
Charles: Hello? Mom?
Angela: Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can't she just make people stay here?
Alice: Oh, trust me, (ominously) I can!
Hisky: Why the hell do you think I'm here?
(The camera goes to Hisky at the bar)
Hisky: You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fuck's bitches moan all the time if she wasn't forcin' me?
Niffter: I like being forced!
Hisky: Keep that to yourself, Niff.
Angela: What, you don't like being here with me, Whiskers?
Hisky: Call me "Whiskers" again and I'll that bottle down your throat.
Angela: Kinky. But I like pussies. But keep talkin' dirty.
Vagner: Ugh, Angela, let Hisky do her job. And no, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to.
Angela: I'm choosing to be here, and I think is all stupid. We're in Hell, toots. It's kind of the end of the road, ain't it?
Vagner: Well, maybe it doesn't have to be. Just because nobody has made it before doesn't mean is not possible. (Angela pust her arm in his shoulder)
Angela: Hey, whatever means I can keep crashin' here rent free. Crack is expensive.
Charles: (excitedly) Yeah, I can! Totally. Yeah, I'll head over there right away...Okay. (Turns off the phone) Hah! YES! YES!! Hahahaha!! Vagner! Holy shit!
Vagner: Ahh! What?!
Charles: (through closed mouth) Get over here!
(Vagner sighs and goes to where Charles is)
Vagner: What's going on?
Charles: (Inhales) My mom just called. She said that the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet. She asked if I could go instead. (Breathes deeply)
Vagner: But... But...But the extermination just happened. What would they want this soon after...
Charles: (Singing) I can do this. Somehow, I know it I'll get Heaven behind my plan!
Vagner: Charles, hold on.
Charles: There's just no way I could blow it. Not this once a lifetime change!
Vagner: It's just a meeting.
Charles: To change their minds. And touch their hearts. Or whatever angels have.
Vagner: This could be bad.
Charles: Cheer up, Vagner. This could be swell. Something tells that today will be a happy day in Hell!
Vagner: Okay, but just don't... sing to them.
Angela: That motherfucker is halfway down the street.
Vagner: Is he...
Angela: Oh, he's dancin'.
Vagner: Ugh, no.
Charles: There's a warm fuzzy feeling that wafts through the air! Every street so revealing it's hard not to stare. It's a realm so appealing it beats anywhere! If you don't mind the smell! It's a happy day in Hell! Hi, miss!
Demon: Go fuck yourself!
Dead Sinner #1: There's a endless trash fire that's burnig my soul!
Charles: Hello!
Imp: There's a lot of barbed wire to shove in her holes!
Charles: Uh, excuse me...
Executioner: Doing what is required we all have a role!
Dead Sinner #2: I'm not doing well!
Ensemble: Another shitty day in Hell!
Charles: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed, that any soul can change!
Vagner: Those angels minds are hard to change!
Charles: Then they know that everyone can be redeemed from the evil to the strange!
Vagner: They're bloodthirsty and deranged!
Charles: I can hear all their stories, the lost and the displaced! And I know that they're of an acquired taste! But if I open the door and give them a place at my Hazbin Hotel it'll be a happy day in Hell! (Jumps in the back of a truck) From the porn studio where the cinephiles go to watch award winning demon bukkake shows to the Cannibal Town where they don't wear a frown 'cause...Holy shit, ew, my gosh, why?! And I don't give a crow that her brains got in my eye! Cause I know I can spare them from Heaven's genocide! I can do this...
Dead Sinner #1: There's an endless trash fire...
Charles: I just know it! Dead Sinner #1: That's burning my soul!
Chorus: Ahhhhhhhhhh!
Charles: I'll get Heaven behind my plans! There's just no way I could blow it!
Demon Sinner #3: I kinda like the barbed wire that's shoved in my hole!
Charles: Not this once in a lifetime chance! To change their minds!
Trenchcoat Demon: And touch my parts!
Charles: Oh...No, thank you. I'm just gonna...Fullfill my destiny!
Trenchcoat Demon: Your loss fucker!
Charles: I can already tell! Today is gonna be a fucking happy day in Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell! (Charles enters at the lobby) Hello? (echoes) Hello? Creepy...(He goes to the reception, rings the bell in the table and a paper and a feather pen appear in front of him) Oh, okay! Also creepy. (Signs the paper)
(Elevator doors open, Charles goes to them and enters in a dark room)
Charles: Hello? Is anyone here?
(The lights turn on)
Eve: 'Sup?
Charles: Holy shit! (Falls in the floor and gets up) Hi, I'm Charles. My mom asked if I could meet you.
Eve: Yeah, I know.
Charles: Okay, well, it's nice to meet you. (Stands his hand)
Eve: Totally. Nice to meet you, too. (Stands her hand)
(Charles hand passes through Eve's hand)
Charles: Ahh!
Eve: Ha! I fucking got you! Did you fuckin' see that?
(Luther shaves his head in yes)
Eve: Good shit!
Charles: Uh, so wait, you aren't here?
Eve: No, you think I'd come down there? (Laughs) No. I mean, I love the vibe, totally, I love your tunes. Pretty fuckin' hardcore, don't get me wrong. But, it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there's just so "eugh" ya know? (Chuckles) Ew.
Charles: Right. So I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. There's a project I've been working on that I really want to talk to you about...(Eve puts her finger in his mouth)
Eve: Hey, hey, hey, slow down. We got time. How about we get to know each other, mm? How about some lunch? You hungry? I got you! (Shows a plate with ribs) Here's my personal favourite. You'll love it.
Charles: Uh, thanks! (His arms passes through the plate of ribs)
Eve: (Laughing) I got you again, fucker! Haha fuckin' hilarious! Haha!
(Back at the Hazbin Hotel, everyone is at the lobby)
Vagner: Okay, so Charles is dealing with something very important, so while he's gone, we are making a new commercial. One that representants his vision and what we're doing here. So we need a camera. Alice?
(Alice snaps her fingers and an old camera appears in Vagner's hand)
Vagner: A video camera.
Alice: Hmmm. (Snaps her fingers)
(A video camera appears in Vagner's hand)
Vagner: All right, let's do this!
(Vagner films Angela sitting at the bar)
Vagner: And...Action!
Hisky: "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, can I help you with anything?"
Angela: "I've been a bad girl. And I need a big strong mommy to put me in my place...On the path to redemption!"
Hisky: Ugh! "Well, you come..."
Angela: "Oh yes!"
Hisky: (boredly) "To the right place!"
Vagner: Cut! Okay, Angela, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Hisky, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face?
Hisky: (Angrily) I ain't no actress, I can't memorize this shit!
Angela: Well, we could improve this shit, baby cakes! (Purrs seductively and Hisky push her out of the counter) Ahh!
Hisky: Whoops. (Drink a bottle)
Vagner: Hisky, come on!
(Meanwhile, Charles is bored)
Eve: So I was playing this gig, and for some fucking reason this virtue boy was digging on the drummer, and it's like, do you know who I am? I'm fucking Eve. I'm the original pussy! All pussies descend from me. You think you like a drummer pussy? No way, I'm the Pussy-fucking master! (Eats sloppily) So anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend?
Charles: Wait, your name is Eve? Like the first woman? That means you...Ohhh...(Enlightened) That explains so much.
Eve: I know. I fucking rock.
Charles: Well, Eve, ma'am. Mrs. Eve, ma'am.
Eve: Call me Pussymaster.
Charles: Eve, you seem like a smart...well, stand up girl.
Eve: (With the finger in her teeth) Uh-huh.
Charles: And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a bigger revolutionary, a...A genius!
Eve: I maen, your words, babe.
Charles: Who would really her name on something.
Eve: Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best!
Charles: It's a solution to our biggest problem!
Eve: Oh, herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch.
Charles: No! Our other biggest problem.
Eve: Oh, uh...Ugly people? (Looks at the camera) Math? Global warming? Nah, wait that's Earth's problem. Umm...
(At the hotel, a bug walks in the floor and a needle tries to stab it saverel times)
Niffter: Hehehe. Stab. Stab. Stab.
Vagner: Alright Niffter. Niffter? Niffter! (Stops him) Your line is "We have the cleanest rooms". Okay?
Niffter: Got it. I'm ready.
Vagner: (Turns on the camera) Action!
(Niffter looks at the camera with his pupil constricted and Angela and Vagner look at him confused and he keeps staring weirdly)
Vagner: Uhh...Cut. (Turns off the camera)
(Niffter smiles again)
Niffter: (Giggles) How was that?
Vagner: Well, Niffter, you actually have to say the line. So let's roll again.
Niffter: Okay!
Vagner: Action. (Turns on the camera)
(Niffter stares deeply at the camera)
Angela: You're doing great, Vagina!
Vagner: Cut! Alright, um, maybe wr can try to fix it in the post.
Angela: Do you even know what that means?
Vagner: (Angrily) I'll figure it out!
(In the lobby, Vagner is watching the video with the camera connected to the tv)
Hisky: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel.
(Vagner groans, covers his eyes and Alice appears in his side)
Alice: Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm?
Vagner: Ugh, esta pendeja...Why are you even here?
Alice: For the entertainment! I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly. Like you are doing now! Good job!
Vagner: (Turns on the camera) And here is Alice, the egocentric piece of shit that...
(Alice gets static on the camera and it starts to spark and Vagner screams and knocks the camera down)
Alice: I wouldn't try that, my darling. (Sinisterly) This face was made for radio.
Vagner: (Gets angry) That's it! I don't care who or what you are! If you are staying here you are going to make this work! Beause it won't be so "entertaining" to watch an empty hotel will it, shit ass?! (Turns around and walks away)
Alice: Fair enough. I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal.
Vagner: Pft! You think I'm that stupid? Making a deal with a demon like you.
Alice: Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again. Or...Charles can come back to absolutely nothing! Your choice.
Vagner: (Sighs) Fine. (Gets the video camera and raises in Alice's hand and green ghosted skulls fly around it)
Alice: Now then! (Makes the camera disappear and snaps her fingers)
(Angela, Hisky and Niffter, a lot of filming materials and a ghost recording team appear in the lobby and everyone gets tailor clothes)
Vagner: Alright, everyone! Let's make a fucking commercial.
(Meanwhile)
Eve:...When you take him out for the fifth time and he still expects you to pay the check, but you're like, (In deep voice) "Hey I thought you wanted equality"!
Charles: (Frustrated) No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell!
Eve: (Normal) Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We got that covered! Luther, how many demons did you kill this year?
Luther: Got a good 275 this year, ma'am.
Eve: 275? Whoa, badass! Awesome job, danger dick! Pound it. (Punch fists with Luther)
Charles: Uh, no, not awesome. Those are my people, you know that, right?
Eve: Ohhh, yeah...That must suck for you. Pft...Hahahaha! Charles: But these are souls. Human souls, just the same as the ones you have in Heaven.
Luther: They're not the same. They had their chance and they earned damnation.
Charles: You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.
Luther: Angels don't make mistakes.
Charles: You really think that?
Luther: I know that.
Eve: Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fucking life.
Luther: The only reason you're still here is because Mommy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter.
(Charles shrinks back)
Eve: Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it...
Charles: Oh! Fuck!...(Get up from the chair) Okay. I've a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't really hearing before, so here goes. (Clears throat) (Singing) I know Hell's population is out of control. It's a bad situation, it's taking a toll. If we rehabe these sinners and cleanse all their souls at my Hazbin Hotel! (Normal) Wait I'm getting ahead of myself! Right! Extermination! (Singing) I know you guys fly down just to kill once a year. And it must be annoying to schlep all the way here. If they join you in Heaven that trip disappears! You can wave that chore farewell! (Deep breath) It'll be a happy day in...
Eve: (Singing) Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time!
Charles: (Normal) Okay?
Eve: If what you're suggesting is letting them climb! Up the ladder. Oh they rather cross the Pearly Gates? Sorry, sweetie, but there's no defying in their fates! 'Cause Hell is forever wheter you like it or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot! 'Cause the rules are black and white there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again!
Charles: Okay, but...
Eve: Just try to chillax, babe, you're wasting your breath!
Charles: (Nervously) Hehe...
Eve: Did I hear you imply that they deserve death? Are they winners? Are they sinners? 'Cause it's cut and dry!
Charles: Actually, if you take a look...
Eve: Fair is fair, an eye for an eye! And when all's said and done! (Said and done) There's the question of fun! (Fun) And for those of us with divine ordainment, extermination is entertainment! (Imitates guitar) Guitar solo, fuck yeah! (Imitates guitar) Hell is forever whether you like or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot!
Charles: Where all these people come from?
Eve: 'Cause the rules are black and white, there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again! (materializes a guitar and play it) Fucking Hell is forever and it's meant to suck a lot! So give up your dumb endeavor 'cause you don't have a shot!
(Charles groans, his paper gets on fire and his hair moves in the air and horns appear in his head)
Eve: Long as I've got your attention, I guess In should probably mention that we made a determination (Shows a contract) To move up the next extermination!
Charles: What?!
Eve: Can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts! (Holds Charles' wrist) I know is just been a week, but we'll be back in six months! (Spins Charles out of the room and plays her guitar)
Charles: Um, wait, didn't you...(Goes at the door, but it closes) Awh, shit! (Punches the door)
(Charles returns sad to the Hazbin Hotel)
Vagner: Charles! (Hugs him) How did it go? Did they listen?
Charles: Oh, uh...They sure did...hear it! But, um...
Vagner: Oh! Come here. We have something exciting to show you! (Holds Charles to the living room) Alice pulled some strings, and it's about to air.
Alice: I pulled a few limbs too! Hahaha!
Charles: Wait? The commercial? You all made a new one?
Angela: Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do can say so myself.
Charles: That's...That's amazing.
Angela: Shh! It's starting!
Vagner: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hot...
(The TV changes to the 666 News channel and everyone complains)
Kallie: (On TV) Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before! Do you know what that means, Tomita?
Tomita: No. What does that means, Kallie?
Kallie: It means we are all royally fucked!
(The clock in an hourglass changes to 176 with everyone screaming)
Angela: Wait...What? Why?!
(A drone laser scans a headless body of an angel laying in Hell and Eve and Luther see then from the ship)
Luther: We found the body, ma'am. They've never managed to kill one of us before. We should just go down there now and destroy them!
Eve: No, no. We can't risk them catching on. But don't worry, when we come back, there won't be a demon left to pull a stunt like this again. (Breaks the projector and her eyes and mouth glow in the dark)
(The end credits start playing)
submitted by Haunting-Band-2763 to hazbin [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 00:50 Junepero Story’s of panem 114 pre games

"Good evening, tributes, and welcome back to the stories of Panem. Before we begin, I would like to thank Christian Blanco, the original writer of "Tales of the Hunger Games," and Lauren from "Panem Reborn." Now, since I don't have too much else to say, let's go!
Game 114 (150):
District 1: Jacqueline and Facet
District 2: Malona and Crane
District 3: Darlene and Colt
District 4: Brook and Harbor
District 5: Unknown girl and Darian
District 6: Fifi and Atlas
District 7: Bloom and Amarylio
District 8: Scarlet and Carter
District 9: Zest and Mazin
District 10: Zulu and Mateo
District 11: Unknown girl and Lee
District 12: Dorothy and Hargree
District 14: Both unknown
A plethora of excitement crossed the capital over the past year, especially their beloved commentator Camilia Ravenstil's pregnancy, which resulted in her giving birth to twins named Amelia and Cyrus, to honor the past two Game Makers. Even Winnow's victory was still in high popularity.
As the reapings rolled around on July 4th, many of the capital citizens flew to their TVs and viewing parties. Winnow made her journey from district to district with her mother and entourage from the capital. When she landed in District 4 on the late morning of the third day of the reapings, she was greeted by Mayor Chigwell. After a rather long tour of the district's harbors and jewelry stores, they stopped at a nearby seaside diner for a brief lunch. Viewers in Snow Square laughed at Winnow's face of pure boredom as Mayor Chigwell ranted about the latest trends in the district's fashion. Winnow's face soon turned to relief as the mayor brought her back to the district's reaping square.
After a little bit of time, the light blue-catered youths were walked into the square by rather impatient Peacekeepers. Mayor Chigwell finished up his speech before welcoming Winnow to the stage. She gave out a rather tired smile at the district's population before talking about the joys of being a victor. She then asked if any of the girls wanted to volunteer. After hearing no response, she then took out the name of 17-year-old Brook Branachok.
Brook was found in the back of the 17-year-old section. Her platinum blonde hair made her quite noticeable to viewers in Snow Square. She sighed dramatically before flipping her blonde hair back in a dramatic manner as her piercing blue eyes even made some of her nearby peers shudder in fear as Brook arrived at the stage and shook Winnow's hand. "She was later described as a 'rich high school bully' by commentators. The girls in a mood," Winnow laughed before shaking Brook’s hand before walking to the male reaping bowl. After a brief silence, she thrusted her hand elbow-deep before taking out the name of 17-year-old Harbor Zanders. A brief pause soon followed by a discussion as a boy with dark brown curly hair with a smattering of light brown freckles on his face gave a guilt-ridden smile before walking up to the stage. However, as a group of teens his age giggled, Harbor turned back and glared at the giggling boys as they suddenly grew quiet. Harbor soon took out a flask of wine. Capital citizens laughed as Harbor found one of his friends and tossed it to him before walking back up to the stage. Back in the capital, both Camilia and Silca and even most of the audience had been surprised at the pair's striking attitudes.
Harbor then shook Brook and Winnow’s hand before they were announced as this year's tributes for District 4 before moderate applause followed. Winnow soon brought the two tributes to the drawing room before she made her journey to District 3 with her entourage.
Brook was visited by her mother, father, and four younger sisters clinging dearly onto their sister. After successfully removing her sobbing siblings, Brook’s mother calmed her daughter down as her father, Coral, gave the best advice he could offer. Peacekeepers soon came in to bring Brook to the waiting dock. She waved and said she’d "At least try to win."
As for Harbor, he was visited by his mother, father, and his younger and older brothers. As his siblings were saddened as well as his parents, Harbor embraced them all in a tight hug. Before he was needed at the dock, his girlfriend Melanie even joined in this hug causing Harbor to show some emotion.
After a few more minutes, peacekeepers soon brought Harbor out of the room to join Brook at the dock as the pair boarded the jet boat to the capital.
"Man, you've been through the ringer, haven't you?"
"Same goes to you, girl. Haven't seen you in a year."
The pair soon chatted with each other about their experiences at the academy and gossiping about old friends. Brook, in particular, laughed hysterically when Harbor mentioned how his ex-girlfriend got karma returned to her when she crashed a birthday party at Harbor’s dad's bar, resulting in the peacekeepers putting her in the district's jail for a month.
However, as the pair tried to dine upon the food provided, the boat hit a bump resulting in Brook, Harbor, four avoxes, the dining table, and nine peacekeepers to go flying up into the sky. Thankfully, no harm came between the fifteen as the peacekeepers then helped the two back up as a new lunch buffet was arrived. And so did their mentor, Sienna Shoreville, victor of the 105th Hunger Games, arrived in.
"I don't want you two to ally with the 2s, maybe the 1s, depends on how they are."
Brook looked curiously at Sienna before saying, "Didn't Anamaria get her neck snapped by the girl a year prior?"
Sienna groaned in annoyance at remembering this cringeworthy death before walking to the bar carriage before inviting the two to join. As Sienna asked the pair about their lives, she laughed while listening to Harbor telling some stories of working at his dad's bar and the customers who would frequent the place. However, when Sienna asked Brook about her life and possible skills, Brook sighed before saying, "I guess looking pretty’s a skill."
Sienna laughed before replying, "For getting sponsors, yes, but not when you're in a fight to the death."
As this reality check wiped the smile from Brook’s face, she and Harbor finished up their meals before listening more to Sienna’s lecture about the games. And as an act to see if her tributes were actually paying attention, she quizzed them on the dos and don'ts in the capital. As Harbor passed this quiz, Sienna laughed before allowing him some "Capital Goodies." However, as Brook blatantly failed the quiz, she laughed and called Harbor a "suck-up" before walking to her room.
Sienna looked at Harbor for a second before saying, "I guess she’s either related to the mayor or is a spoiled rotten brat."
"She usually brags about her rich family members, always thinks she's better than everyone."
"And trust me, the girl ain't pretty."
Sienna and Snow Square laughed as she then patted him on the back before""telling him to get a 'nap' in before they were to arrive in the capital."
He nodded before Brook returned. It is unknown what the two girls talked about for the remainder of the trip, but our historians have noted that Brook’s scowl from before had dissolved for the time being. As evening rolled around, the pair from District 4's boat landed at Mcaine dock as an excited crowd of capital citizens swarmed the pair from 4 and their very popular mentor, who had been giving out her new jewelry to some of her lucky fans.
Brook and Harbor performed rather well, with the capital citizens enjoying their "feisty sailor attitudes." Even some reporters from Golden 24 put up a most popular tribute poll with Harbor and Brook being in the top 3, narrowly beating Fifi from District 6.
Sienna then thanked the capital for their time before taking her tributes to the limousine. Once it arrived at the accommodation tower, they arrived at the 4th floor. After arriving, Sienna called their stylist, Orivile Cartwright.
Orivile embraced Sienna before showing his tributes his pre-made outfits, which were Sailor themed, which made Brook and Harbor smile. Due to them having a fair amount of time left, Sienna displayed the post-reaping commentaries before turning on the commentary for District 1 as Orivile worked away at the pairs' outfits.
Mayor Cassino greeted a very exhausted Winnow Fraiser. Also accompanying the mayor was Realm Jones, victor of the 101st Hunger Games, and Quintin Mahoney, victor of the 108th Hunger Games, joined Winnow on the initial tour. Winnow appeared to be star-struck sitting between both iconic victors. She even turned around to Quintin saying, "I can't believe I get to meet a legend like you."
Quintin laughed before giving Winnow some comic relief during the tour, telling her about his games and even asking a few questions about her own games. At the conclusion of the tour, Realm's eyes lit up in delight as he saw his own capital mentor, Narcissa Valentions, warmly embracing her mentee.
"So what're you doing here?"
"I had some time off. I figured I'd come by and see how you've been doing. Business at my shop has been bustling as ever, so I figured I’d take a break to see my first victor."
As Realm and Narcissa soon walked over to the talent demonstrations together, Quintin laughed as Mayor Cassino welcomed the scarlet youths. Winnow was then brought up to the stage. She asked if any of the youths wanted to volunteer, becoming surprised when 10 ladies and 8 gentlemen volunteered for the role of tribute for District 1. Silca joked with Camilia, saying, "It's normal for them, isn't it?"
With the ladies' many remarkable weapon displays and archery displays, 18-year-old Jacqueline Faywether had been announced as the final volunteer to try her luck. She smiled at many nearby cameras as even one enthralled boy in the audience fainted seeing the rather extractive career girl.
She shot 10 arrows blindfolded and threw 8 knives in the letter J form, causing even more ripples of laughter sounded in the square. The mayor announced the two passing tributes. As for the two tributes, Jacqueline’s only remaining opponent, Jewel, had almost won the title of female tribute but had a stroke leading to Jacqueline to win the title of female tributes.
As for the guys, 18-year-old Facet Elixithorn had made himself a crowd and capital favorite by his spear-throwing display and to ending in a handstand with wild applause following. Three guys made it to the debate round with Realm this time asking the questions. With poise and dignity, Lance’s strong mind and less nerves had won him the title of male tribute for District 1.
After the pair were bathed and stylized, they were then brought out to the square as they then shook Winnow’s hand before she announced Jacqueline and Facet were announced as the tributes for District 1.
And after a brief meeting with their families and friends with not too much emotion, Jacqueline and Facet were then brought to the train as the train began their journey to the capital.
Narcissa, Realm, and Quintin then greeted their tributes with Jacqueline and Facet being surprised seeing their district's first victor’s mentor. Quintin soon brought the four to the table having a brief dinner with Narcissa asking the two if they had any skills besides their ‘weapons of choice.’ Quintin was pleased to hear of Jacqueline's diverse skills of weaponry before bragging to her district partner about her achievements at the Kobayashi self-defense center. However, instead of being jealous, Facet asked his district partner about her accomplishments.
Realm and Quintin were pleased with their tributes getting along with each other before showing the past reapings in the districts. Facet and Jacqueline laughed hysterically at the District 2 reaping games even Narcissa let out a smile. Quintin then asked the pair if there had been “Other commendable allies besides the non-dazzling loonies from 2 besides Jade and Hermina, they are dazzling.” Realm also chimed in adding that they should “Look for others.”
However, as Jacqueline was going to ask why Realm shushed her and said, “The career pack has their on and off years.” Jacqueline nodded before Quintin continued talking to the pair about the past reapings. Facet and Jacqueline even suggested the girl from 3 and the pair from 4 as potential allies. Realm appeared to consider this before Quintin added in that “He would see what he could do.”
As the pair nodded, the pair from 1’s train arrived in the outskirts of the capital. Narcissa soon styled the pair up, quietly complaining to Realm of how Jacqueline's red hair and Facet's long blonde curls were impossible to tame. The train then arrived in the capital with the usual excited capital crowd marveling scarlet couture. Jacqueline and Facet were both outstanding hits with the capital citizens maintaining proper etiquette. However, two capital lights had to be removed from the audience after heckling Facet about his district partner. Narcissa then wished Jacqueline and Facet luck before kissing Realm and Quintin on the cheek. Realm and Quintin then thanked the capital citizens for their time before bringing the pair from 1 to the limousine as it brought them to their accommodation tower.
Once they arrived at their accommodation tower apartment, they were greeted by their stylist, Aurelia Heavensbee. She smiled at the four of them before whisking them to the dining table showing them her designs for the parade. Jacqueline in particular was marveling at her long ruby dress as Facet jokingly told Jacqueline that they looked like a “walking jewel.” However, Aurelia frowned as Realm glared at Facet as the smile was wiped from his face. The pair then groaned in annoyance at their stylist's bland outfits.
Before the pair were then brought to the parade moments later, Facet and Jacqueline were immediately approached by Malona and Crane, both from 2 introducing themselves. However, Facet cut the pair off from further words, saying, “the career pack is gonna be different this year.” As Malona protested, Jacqueline said, ‘thanks but no thanks.” Both Jade Heath and Herminia Gold looked at the District 1 mentors in bewilderment as they also reciprocated. However, the pair from 1 then came over to the pair from 4 chatting with their mentor.
“Darling, you look stunning.”
“Oh, thank you, you dazzling ruby.”
Brook and Jacqueline seemed to obtain an instant connection. As Facet complemented Harbor’s outfit. Harbor smiled good-naturedly back before chatting away with him about lives in their districts. Facet soon asked the pair if they would be interested in an alliance in the arena; however, Sienna leaned in this conversation asking “Where are the 2s?”
Jacqueline then replied that they were “trying something new this year” before pointing at the pair making fun of Mateo from 10’s cow-themed parade outfit. Sienna shrugged as Brook and Harbor warmly accepted the offer as Facet and Jacqueline smiled saying “splendid see you soon.” When the pair from 1 got back, Realm popped up asking “You with the 4s this year.” As the pair nodded, Realm smiled and nodded with Quintin and Aurelia doing their touch-ups to their tributes' outfits. Sienna commended the pair for “making friends already,” she still urged caution before re-adding in “The 2 mentors there are my ride or dies but still keep your eyes on them if needed.”
The pair then nodded as the parade then began. Regal applause and cheers sounded for the pair from 1, but Nico Anderson lead editor of Anderson Fashion applauded for their strong impression but said the dress was “So Basic.” The pair from 4 were given a large amount of applause as Harbor and Brook waved at the audience even performing an old dance known as a “Jig”. The pair were also given a boatload of flowers and chocolate resulting in both Brook and Harbor sneezing uncontrollably at the end of the parade during President Mcaine's speech. Best dressed was ultimately awarded to the pair from 4 with their sailor-themed couture.
When the pair from 1 arrived back in their district apartment, they were glaring daggers from afar at Aurelia,
“How did it go.”
“How did it feel getting harshly criticized on live TV.”
Quintin shot Jacqueline a disapproving look as Realm asked if there other worthy allies. Both mentors were pleased hearing their success with the pair from 4 before Realm reassured them that they still looked “dazzling” before sending his tributes to bed. However, with the pair from 4, Sienna warmly embraced the two of her tributes on a best-dressed win. As Orville also joined in the group hug has the 4 of them partied till around 11:30 pm until Sienna sent her tributes to bed as she and Orville stayed up a while longer.
Bright and early the following morning, the mentors ushered their tributes to the training center with a very frustrated Apollo Price. Unfortunately, during his speech about the rules of the training center, he tasered Mateo from 10 after he tried to make a break for the door after Price’s speech concluded. Mateo’s mentor Bianca Jr Ramon rolled her eyes before dropping her mentee at the knife station.
The newly made career alliance between the District 1 and 4 tributes conquered most of the training stations with Facet and Harbor bonding over dropping and throwing large weights causing Fifi from 6 to wet herself earning a smirk from the boys. When Mateo awoke from his unconscious slumber, he immediately ran to Mateo asking him to spare. Since Mateo was no older than 14 and he was the youngest tribute the careers laughed before Facet told him to “Buzz off”. However, as Mateo continued to pester the career boys, Harbor gave Facet a knowing look before accepting Mateo’s sparing request.
A short crowd of tributes went to the jousting stations as Mateo and Harbor were briefed on the rules before being allowed to go at it. It was no surprise that Harbor won all 4 rounds.
“Easy”.
Harbor smiled warmly before being tackled to the ground by the 14-year-old boy from 10.
“You think you're better than me HA you rotten career boy.”
As Price Facet Brook and even Sienna tried to step in Harbor held his hand up to stay back. Harbor then threw the boy off him before pinching the nerve on Mateo’s neck knocking him clean out. As training master Price and Sienna looked at him in bewilderment before Price smiled saying
“Good job kid”.
Harbor smiled before Facet and he returned to the weight station and survival, knife and axe stations even giving advice to Amarylio from 7 with starting fires.
As for the girls they mainly gossiped to themselves and having “Girl talk” at the aquatic station sword station and archery stations. When any tribute tried to use the archery station both Jacqueline and Brook would melodicaly but fiercely slam there weapons into the targtes.
At the end of the traing head master price brought the tributes to the asscors room. Due to the request of the new head game maker the tributes assesment scores were kept strictly confidential. However tabloid reporters manage to scoop out that Jacqueline Facet Harbor and Malona from to managed to score at the top of the pack with a 11. Brook and Amarylio scored a 9 and at the bottom of the pack was Mateo and Hargree from 12 scoring a 3 each.
Both Sienna Quintin and Realm were beyond impressed with there tributes scores before they’re stylist sketched up potential outfits with there mentors soon quizing the pairs on interview educate.
Camilia Ravenstil welcomed the excited capital audience modeling a rather gothic dress that made her look like a ghost tree by the audience. The audience even laughed good naturedly as Camilia shook for a second as leaves fell of her costume as if wind had hit her. She then exictedly welcomed Jacqueline from 1. She was adorned in a stunning pink and red dress with her hair put up in braids. The two had some gossip before reavling to the audience that she was a decdent of Emarld Rivelta victor of the 34th hunher games. Camilia slapped her knee and laughed saying “Thats who you resmbl I guessed right I knew it!”
As the girls chatted the audience loved her regal responses to Camilas questions as even mentoning the carrer alliance brought the crowd into rapsous cheers,even when she talked about her allies from 4 openly. She then kissed Camilia on the hand before bowing which caused even more cheers before she was dismissed back stage. Facet was welcomed in next marveling a sleeveless pink suit with ruby jeans making many of the capital audience to swoon over his physeigue. Even Camilia was taken aback by his charm and confidence as he spoke about his training experience and the strength of his alliance with Jacqueline. His witty remarks and easygoing demeanor captivated the audience, earning him loud applause and admiration.
Later on into the night brook was welcomed in next with wild cheers and wolf whistles sounding. With her hair being dyed a pure yellow with a light brown dress resembling sand following her. She proceeded to have the same amount of banter with Camilia as Jacqueline did however Camilia cut her off as she was finshing up talking about her dads money saying “Honey this is the hunger games.”
“Yeah and Ill live how I like before the games.”
As a few jeers sounded the rest of her interview was rather dull the only light being Camilia shooing the “Regina George” of the stage. As Camila then called Harbor loud cheers sounded again as Harbor walked on to the stage with his curly black hair and brown eyes making him quite attrauctive to many even his pirate themed coustume became an over night sensation with many fashion designers stating that they wanted this fashionable suit.
As Camilia asked Harbor about the games becoming pleased with his short but sweet responses. Even cracking some good jokes about the other competitors mainly about Bloom from 7 and Mateo from 10 . To conclude Harbor’s inteviwed he tossed his waist coat to teh crowd as an excited gagle of captial ladies clammered for this waist coat. As his interview ended on a high. Finaly after the interview of the boy from 14 the new head game maker Natellia Swan was welcomed to the stage. Head game maker swan was adorned in a regal black gown also sporting garish make up making her resmble more of ghost then human. After introducing herself to the excited capital audience Camila smiled before shaking her hand saying that “Game maker swan has alot to accept from.” She laughed before giving hint out to teh audience by pointing to both of the laides dresses. Curious osund sof inteirgue soon followed as game maker swan smiled and bowed as she then left the stage as Camilia then ended the interviews there. The next morning tributes were given a breif breakefst before being brought to the arena’s holding room.
This years outfits consisted of black coats with black jeans and snakers with there distristicts nymbers stickered on the back of there coats. Realm visited Facet before reminding him to stick with Jacqueline and Harbor and Brook. However before Realm finished Facet replied “That girl Brook might be problem.” Realm nodded and agreed before reminding him to keep an eye on her before shaking his hand as he went into his tube. Jacqueline was visited by Quintin the pair had a similar conversation as Realm did with Facet before Jacqueline embraced Quintin and thanked him joking “District 1 needs more ladys.” Quintin laughed before hugging her back before walking Jacqueline to her tube. As for Brook she was not visited by Sienna nor Orvilve a fact that suprised her the most but shrugged before patiently puting her hair up in a bun and waiting for the tribute call to sound. As for Harbor Sienna visted him. She embacred Harbor before reminding him to “ Keep an eye on all of them.”
Harbor smiled before thanking Sienna for her mentor ship before Sienna walked Harbor to his tube his tube and at mid day the podiums then arose into the arena.
Arena Ghosty lake Game 114
submitted by Junepero to christianblanco [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 00:00 Obsequium_Minaris Ballistic Coefficient - Chapter 11

First / Previous / Royal Road / Patreon (Read 12 Chapters Ahead)

When dawn broke, the two of them set off again, once more heading north. Pale had made sure to call down another pod once the sun had risen, this one full of winter gear for the two of them – thermal jackets to keep them warm, but more importantly, snow-print camouflage covers for them to throw over themselves if they needed to creep around at night.
"What's the point of this stuff?" Kayla asked as she threw one of the snow-colored smocks over herself, pausing only to tug at it in a few places.
"Makes it harder for them to spot us," Pale explained. "Of course, some degree of combat is inevitable, but that's no reason to not avoid it if we can do so."
Pale zipped up her winter jacket, then reached for her shotgun, topping it off with fresh shells of buckshot. Kayla watched with fascination as Pale slid red-colored shell after red-colored shell into her weapon's magazine tube, finally furrowing her brow in confusion.
"How does it work?"
"Hm?" Pale asked, looking over to her. "You mean my weapons?"
"Yes. I thought you said your people couldn't use magic?"
"We can't. This is pure science." She held up a shotgun shell for emphasis. "To put it simply, my weapon works by setting off a chain reaction of burning chemicals and small explosions, which forces metal projectiles down a carefully-shaped and machined piece of metal at a very high rate of speed."
"But… it's so small. Why does it do so much damage?"
"Because of something called physics. Kinetic energy is determined by a combination of mass and velocity, but between the two, velocity has a much more profound impact on the energy itself. Essentially, you want to make a projectile more powerful? Make it go faster rather than just make it heavier."
Kayla hesitated. "My head's already starting to spin…"
"I will spare you any further explanation, then." Pale slung her weapon across her front, then did a quick gear check to make sure everything was stowed where it needed to be. Once that was done, she nodded over to Kayla. "Lead the way."
The two of them took off at a brisk march through the plains. Snow had started to fall as they had woken up, covering the area in a thin sheet of white that crunched underfoot with every step taken. Neither girl felt the effects of the elements thanks to their new winter gear, but it did make traversing through the plains a bit more difficult, not to mention that as the snow continued to fall, their movement would only be more impeded with time.
And just as well, there was the matter of the tracks they were leaving behind as they walked. Pale wasn't quite sure how to deal with those, at least not yet, but they would cross that particular bridge when they came to it.
As they walked, Pale noticed Kayla had become oddly silent. She blinked, then turned towards her, only to find her staring off into space as they advanced, watching the snow fall down on the terrain below. Pale cleared her throat, and Kayla jumped a bit before turning to face her.
"Yes?"
"Are you feeling okay?" Pale bluntly asked.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because you look awful. Is it the nightmares again?"
Kayla bit her lip, but ultimately nodded. "...Yeah, it is."
Pale's brow furrowed. Unfortunately for both of them, she was no psychologist. It was clear Kayla was going through some sort of trauma regarding the events of the past few days, and while Pale had archives of books related to the subject stored in her data banks, even she knew better than to go poking around in someone's head.
The human brain may have been mapped, but there were still things about it that even her creators didn't quite understand, and the nature of mental illness was one of them. She had already tried to logic Kayla out of whatever mental hole she'd fallen into, and that clearly hadn't worked. No, there was something deeper going on with her, something that Pale didn't understand.
Part of her wished Evie was still here, if only because she seemed to get it a lot better than Pale could.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Pale offered.
"Do you think that will help?"
"Has to be better than letting it fester like this. But if you're not willing, I won't push the issue."
Kayla shook her head. "It's just… I don't know how people do it. I still feel like I'm gonna vomit whenever I see a dead body lying on the ground. How you and Evie are able to not only keep going after that but add more to the pile is… frightening."
"Death is inherently frightening for everyone, even me."
"Truly?" Kayla asked, surprised. "You're afraid of death?"
"Yes, in multiple different ways." Pale gestured to herself. "This body, for one – I worry about losing it, because if that happens, I am going to be stuck floating listlessly through space, stuck in Sjel's orbit until my systems finally burn themselves out after several million years. Then my consciousness will fade away into nothingness, and there will be no remnant of me left behind aside from a shattered husk of a warship. Then again, perhaps that is the fate of every warship – the oceans back on my creators' home planet are, after all, filled with the dessicated husks of once-proud ships of war, many still sealed up like time capsules. I must admit, it would be poetic if I were to join them."
"No, it wouldn't," Kayla countered. "It'd be sad, Pale. You'd just float endlessly through space for the rest of time."
"Not quite. After a few billion years, this solar system's sun would burn out and turn into a supernova, wiping any trace of it from the face of the galaxy. But I understand what you're saying. My point, however, is that death is profound for everyone, even me."
"Why wouldn't it be profound for you?"
"Because I am not alive."
"Yes, you are."
Pale's brow furrowed. "I am not an organic person."
Wordlessly, Kayla reached out and poked her in the shoulder. "Weird, because you certainly feel organic."
"Not what I meant. I was created in a laboratory."
"So? Do you have any idea how many people were created from a drunken romp between an adventurer and a tavern wench? Is being made in a laboratory, whatever that means, really any more inauthentic than a loveless one-night stand that happened to lead to a baby?"
Pale opened her mouth, but Kayla beat her to the punch. "I don't understand why you keep trying to make this point. You are a person, Pale, and-"
"I cannot be a person," Pale growled. "That was not the purpose I was created for. And besides, this conversation isn't about me, it's about you. Stop trying to change the subject."
Kayla grunted, then crossed her arms as she walked. "Fine. You want to talk about what's bothering me? Now you know. I hate the knowledge that what I'm doing is leading to people being hurt and killed. I hate that Evie decided to help us, and made herself and her caravan a target as a result. And most importantly, I hate that it's all so necessary, because if we don't do this, I'll never see my father again. There, happy now?" Kayla crossed her arms, then let out a tired sigh. "I want to go home, but I can't even do that – not only is my father still missing, but my home is gone. I have nothing to go back to. Any friends I had are dead now..."
Kayla let out a small sniffle, and Pale hesitated before reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you feel like this. I understand that you're going through a lot, I just wish there was more I could do to help."
"You're here," Kayla insisted. "And you're helping me get my father back. That's more than enough. The rest… I'll deal with that on my own for now, I guess."
"Very well. But if you need someone to vent to, I'm here."
Kayla sniffled again, but gave her a thin, grateful smile. "Thank you."
Pale let her hand fall off Kayla's shoulder, and Kayla took a breath to calm herself before they continued on.

They walked for several more hours, the snow intensifying all around them before it finally came to be too much. By this time, the plains had given way to hills and rocky mountains capped with snow. Pale paused to examine their surroundings as they climbed a hill, looking for shelter.
"We must be getting farther north," she surmised. "The weather is becoming unrecognizable from how it was back in your village."
"You're right about that," Kayla grunted as she scrambled over some rocks. "Shouldn't be much longer now until we get to the sea. How we're going to cross without a boat, though… I suppose we'll have to figure that out on our own."
Pale nodded. "I am surprised that we haven't run into any opposition yet."
"I've had us staying away from the nearby towns on purpose. I figured that if we were going to run into anyone hostile, it'd be there."
"Smart move," Pale complimented. "And I take it that keeping us out in the open fields for as long as possible was part of that, too? Good thinking."
"Thanks," Kayla replied. She looked around the mountain, her gaze finally landing on an outcropping of rocks. "I think I see a cave over there. Think it'd make for good shelter for a night?"
"It'd be better than staying out in the open. Come on, I'll lead the way this time."

A short while later, both girls were sprawled out inside the cave, their outer layers of clothing hung up on some nearby rocks to air dry. Their thermal under layers kept them warm, as did a small fire Kayla had managed to start using her magic. They both sat huddled around the fire, a set of military rations perched in their laps.
"It'll be hot, so be careful when you open it," Pale warned. "The flameless ration heater included in each may use water to function, but trust me, the food will come out hot despite that."
"What'd you say this one was, again?" Kayla asked, examining the bag.
"Chicken and rice bowl. It should be a lot better than the earlier emergency ration bar I gave you – less artificial, at least – and unlike that one, you can eat this one in one sitting without any ill effects."
Kayla perked up a bit at that. "That sounds nice…"
They both fell silent after that, the only noise filling the cave being the crackling of the fire. Finally, Kayla broke the silence.
"
I just want you to know… I'm glad you're here with me," she said softly. "And not just because you're helping me find my father, either. You're a good person, Pale."
"I am-"
"I know, I know – you don't agree with being called a person. But you are."
Pale's brow furrowed. "No offense, but perhaps this is a difference of culture. How does one define a person on this world?"
"A person is anyone who has a sjel," Kayla answered.
"Then I do not fit the definition."
"Everyone has a sjel, Pale," Kayla softly emphasized. "Even you. Even if you can't use magic, I know you've still got one. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize that."
Again, silence fell over the two of them. It didn't last, however – from outside, Pale heard the unmistakable sound of far-away voices, and sat up straight. Judging from how Kayla's wolf ears perked up, she'd heard them, too.
"Look alive," Pale said, putting her ration aside and reaching for her shotgun.
"I think we're about to have company."

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, Ickbard for the help with writing this story.
submitted by Obsequium_Minaris to HFY [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 22:30 ivegotcheesyblasters Possible bad breeder/rescue? How would you proceed?

(I posted this in dogs but they have a delay, so I'm cross posting here too - hope that's okay!)
Tater Todd the Dog came to us a year ago through a rescue that plucked him from an Alabama kill shelter at 9mo and brought him to New England, where we took him home. He has obvious angular leg deformity (eg his front legs bend inward at the ankle, not unlike a dachshund), leukotrichia (hair grows back white when damaged) and a slight overbite (his tongue frequently sticks out, yes it's adorable)
Per Embark - where he's so fancy I can find over a dozen first and second cousins - Todd is 100%, purebred Catahoula Leopard Dog. Not what I expected, as he was listed as a "lab mix" in his NE adoption paperwork. CLDs are rare up here, so I'm not blaming the NE rescue. He doesn't have the strong markings associated with the breed.... but if you know what to look for, it's pretty obvious. So why does the original Alabama rescue currently have a lot of Todd lookalikes up for adoption, listed as Labrador Retrievers? Not mixes: just Labs.
I've worked with dogs for 10 years. As we’re far in the north and rarely see CLDs, even I didn't clock his breed until Embark. While he's wonderful, he's not as…. simple, I guess, as Labs are expected to be. He's incredibly high energy and NOT a first time owner kind of pup. The first 2-3 months were tough. He needs attention, tons of exercise and near constant stimulation. Our trainers agree he's one of the smartest dogs they've ever worked with.
(Interestingly, Todd is either the most bulletproof dog ever or someone truly cared for him as a puppy. He's pretty fearless and doesn't care about storms, alarms, fireworks, or murdering small animals. He's full of love for all, especially children and other dogs. In every other respect he's an absolutely stellar dog, just not physically ideal.)
Because of this, I'm afraid the rescue is intentionally obfuscating the breeds under the guise of “we can't prove we knew and there's nothing you can do about it.” But in the wrong environment with people who don't have extensive dog experience, this could have gone VERY poorly. Plenty of people cannot offer the care a CLD needs and (rightfully, imo) filter out the breed as an option. It's a situation ripe for rehoming, with the dog more confused and upset than before and less likelihood of a positive outcome.
Back to the breeder: I've come to the hesitant conclusion there's a possibility he was intentionally bred, but dumped at a shelter when he didn't meet the breed standards - eg the breeder didn't want him associated with their business due to his deformities and is trying to hide their mistakes while continuing to breed from the same stock/lines. How else would a purebred dog with an amazing personality end up in a shelter at 9 months?
So I did a little digging on the ol' internet. There is an active breeder in AL a few towns over from where his original rabies tag was issued, and one of the current mothers bears a pretty striking resemblance... which stands out, as Todd doesn't have average Catahoula markings. Not a silver bullet, but interesting nonetheless. There aren't a lot of CLD breeders out there.
Now for the point (sorry for the rant!): Is there any action you would take with this information? Should I contact the rescue or breeder? Should I reach out on Embark to his first cousins (some still in AL) to get their stories?
I'll be honest, I’m not sure what resolution I'm looking for or likely to achieve. Can I shut down a bad breeder from across the country? Am I losing my mind?? Maybe they're a "decent" breeder who gave or sold Todd to some asshole who was disappointed in how he developed, and rather than go back to the breeder simply dumped him. (I would be very surprised if this was the case; purebreds are fucking expensive and "decent" breeders will take a dog back.)
Additionally, does the rescue know about this somehow? CLDs are common in the South, I can't believe they wouldn't clock one with obvious features. It's pretty shitty to withhold important breed info that could properly inform a prospective adopter. Are they more interested in turnover than a permanent placement? Is there anything to be gained from calling them out? What would you do??
I would love some perspective or advice, this is driving me crazy. Thanks for reading :) Now go pet a dog!!
(edit: I wanted to say I have no problem with people rehoming dogs they can no longer care for, whatever the reason may be. It sucks, but I get it. I do feel this is different, however.)
submitted by ivegotcheesyblasters to Catahoula [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 22:20 BugzMiranda Integrating past and current programming from TrueCoach to literally any other tracking app:

Hey everyone. Newer coach here. I’ve been using TrueCoach simply because I used it as a client in the past. Now as a coach I have surpassed my current number of client paywall on TrueCoach and have to upgrade. I don’t mind the price hike, but the user interface is garbage. To edit any programs I have to log in via browser and it’s just not accessible..among other issues I have.
I’m looking to switch to another tracking app for my clients. I currently get paid through my gym for sessions but I will be leaving soon and going remote, so that will be another bridge to cross when I get there. Ever fit and Trainerize seem to be the most popular on this sub, but my question is can I easily transfer current clients’ profiles and workouts to either of these apps? I’m just looking for something that is easy for me and my clients as I expand. Thanks for any input.
submitted by BugzMiranda to personaltraining [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 21:13 Yurii_S_Kh Dachau 1945: The Souls of All Are Aflame

Dachau 1945: The Souls of All Are Aflame
by Douglas Cramer
https://preview.redd.it/8ij0zm5txf0d1.png?width=300&format=png&auto=webp&s=eea54710e6a5b2cbd7901d2547cd7938334e74e9
The Dachau concentration camp was opened in 1933 in a former gunpowder factory. The first prisoners interred there were political opponents of Adolf Hitler, who had become German chancellor that same year. During the twelve years of the camp's existence, over 200,000 prisoners were brought there. The majority of prisoners at Dachau were Christians, including Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Orthodox clergy and lay people.
Countless prisoners died at Dachau, and hundreds were forced to participate in the cruel medical experiments conducted by Dr. Sigmund Rascher. When prisoners arrived at the camp they were beaten, insulted, shorn of their hair, and had all their belongings taken from them. The SS guards could kill whenever they thought it was appropriate. Punishments included being hung on hooks for hours, high enough that heels did not touch the ground; being stretched on trestles; being whipped with soaked leather whips; and being placed in solitary confinement for days on end in rooms too small to lie down in.
The abuse of the prisoners reached its end in the spring of 1945. The events of that Holy Week were later recorded by one of the prisoners, Gleb Rahr. Rahr grew up in Latvia and fled with his family to Nazi Germany when the Russians invaded. He was arrested by the Gestapo because of his membership in an organization that opposed both fascism and communism. Originally imprisoned in Buchenwald, he was transported to Dachau near the end of the war.
In fact, Rahr was one of the survivors of the infamous “death trains,” as they were called by the American G.I.’s who discovered them. Thousands of prisoners from different camps had been sent to Dachau in open rail cars. The vast majority of them died horrific deaths from starvation, dehydration, exposure, sickness, and execution.
In a letter to his parents the day after the liberation, G.I. William Cowling wrote, “As we crossed the track and looked back into the cars the most horrible sight I have ever seen met my eyes. The cars were loaded with dead bodies. Most of them were naked and all of them skin and bones. Honest their legs and arms were only a couple of inches around and they had no buttocks at all. Many of the bodies had bullet holes in the back of their heads.”
Marcus Smith, one of the US Army personnel assigned to Dachau, also described the scene in his 1972 book, The Harrowing of Hell.
Refuse and excrement are spread over the cars and grounds. More of the dead lie near piles of clothing, shoes, and trash. Apparently some had crawled or fallen out of the cars when the doors were opened, and died on the grounds. One of our men counts the boxcars and says that there are thirty-nine. Later I hear that there were fifty, that the train had arrived at the camp during the evening of April 27, by which time all of the passengers were supposed to be dead so that the bodies could be disposed of in the camp crematorium. But this could not be done because there was no more coal to stoke the furnaces. Mutilated bodies of German soldiers are also on the ground, and occasionally we see an inmate scream at the body of his former tormentor and kick it. Retribution!
Gates of Dachau Concentration Camp
Rahr was one of the over 4,000 Russian prisoners at Dachau at the time of the liberation. The liberated prisoners also included over 1,200 Christian clergymen. After the war, Rahr immigrated to the United States, where he taught Russian History at the University of Maryland. He later worked for Radio Free Europe. His account of the events at Dachau in 1945 begins with his arrival at the camp:
April 27th: The last transport of prisoners arrives from Buchenwald. Of the 5,000 originally destined for Dachau, I was among the 1,300 who had survived the trip. Many were shot, some starved to death, while others died of typhus. . . .
April 28th: I and my fellow prisoners can hear the bombardment of Munich taking place some 30 km from our concentration camp. As the sound of artillery approaches ever nearer from the west and the north, orders are given proscribing prisoners from leaving their barracks under any circumstances. SS-soldiers patrol the camp on motorcycles as machine guns are directed at us from the watch-towers, which surround the camp.
April 29th: The booming sound of artillery has been joined by the staccato bursts of machine gun fire. Shells whistle over the camp from all directions. Suddenly white flags appear on the towers—a sign of hope that the SS would surrender rather than shoot all prisoners and fight to the last man. Then, at about 6:00 p.m., a strange sound can be detected emanating from somewhere near the camp gate which swiftly increases in volume. . . .
The sound came from the dawning recognition of freedom. Lt. Col. Walter Fellenz of the US Seventh Army described the greeting from his point of view:
Several hundred yards inside the main gate, we encountered the concentration enclosure, itself. There before us, behind an electrically charged, barbed wire fence, stood a mass of cheering, half-mad men, women and children, waving and shouting with happiness—their liberators had come! The noise was beyond comprehension! Every individual (over 32,000) who could utter a sound, was cheering. Our hearts wept as we saw the tears of happiness fall from their cheeks.
Rahr’s account continues:
Finally all 32,600 prisoners join in the cry as the first American soldiers appear just behind the wire fence of the camp. After a short while electric power is turned off, the gates open and the American G.I.’s make their entrance. As they stare wide-eyed at our lot, half-starved as we are and suffering from typhus and dysentery, they appear more like fifteen-year-old boys than battle-weary soldiers. . . .
An international committee of prisoners is formed to take over the administration of the camp. Food from SS stores is put at the disposal of the camp kitchen. A US military unit also contributes some provision, thereby providing me with my first opportunity to taste American corn. By order of an American officer radio-receivers are confiscated from prominent Nazis in the town of Dachau and distributed to the various national groups of prisoners. The news comes in: Hitler has committed suicide, the Russians have taken Berlin, and German troops have surrendered in the South and in the North. But the fighting still rages in Austria and Czechoslovakia. . . .
Naturally, I was ever cognizant of the fact that these momentous events were unfolding during Holy Week. But how could we mark it, other than through our silent, individual prayers? A fellow-prisoner and chief interpreter of the International Prisoner's Committee, Boris F., paid a visit to my typhus-infested barrack—“Block 27”—to inform me that efforts were underway in conjunction with the Yugoslav and Greek National Prisoner's Committees to arrange an Orthodox service for Easter day, May 6th.
There were Orthodox priests, deacons, and a group of monks from Mount Athos among the prisoners. But there were no vestments, no books whatsoever, no icons, no candles, no prosphoras, no wine. . . . Efforts to acquire all these items from the Russian church in Munich failed, as the Americans just could not locate anyone from that parish in the devastated city. Nevertheless, some of the problems could be solved. The approximately four hundred Catholic priests detained in Dachau had been allowed to remain together in one barrack and recite mass every morning before going to work. They offered us Orthodox the use of their prayer room in “Block 26,” which was just across the road from my own “block.”
The chapel was bare, save for a wooden table and a Czenstochowa icon of the Theotokos hanging on the wall above the table—an icon which had originated in Constantinople and was later brought to Belz in Galicia, where it was subsequently taken from the Orthodox by a Polish king. When the Russian Army drove Napoleon's troops from Czenstochowa, however, the abbot of the Czenstochowa Monastery gave a copy of the icon to czar Alexander I, who placed it in the Kazan Cathedral in Saint-Petersburg where it was venerated until the Bolshevik seizure of power. A creative solution to the problem of the vestments was also found. New linen towels were taken from the hospital of our former SS-guards. When sewn together lengthwise, two towels formed an epitrachilion and when sewn together at the ends they became an orarion. Red crosses, originally intended to be worn by the medical personnel of the SS guards, were put on the towel-vestments.
On Easter Sunday, May 6th (April 23rd according to the Church calendar)—which ominously fell that year on Saint George the Victory-Bearer's Day—Serbs, Greeks and Russians gathered at the Catholic priests’ barracks. Although Russians comprised about 40 percent of the Dachau inmates, only a few managed to attend the service. By that time “repatriation officers” of the special Smersh units had arrived in Dachau by American military planes, and begun the process of erecting new lines of barbed wire for the purpose of isolating Soviet citizens from the rest of the prisoners, which was the first step in preparing them for their eventual forced repatriation.
In the entire history of the Orthodox Church there has probably never been an Easter service like the one at Dachau in 1945. Greek and Serbian priests together with a Serbian deacon wore the make-shift “vestments” over their blue and gray-striped prisoner’s uniforms. Then they began to chant, changing from Greek to Slavonic, and then back again to Greek. The Easter Canon, the Easter Sticheras—everything was recited from memory. The Gospel—“In the beginning was the Word”—also from memory.
And finally, the Homily of Saint John Chrysostom—also from memory. A young Greek monk from the Holy Mountain stood up in front of us and recited it with such infectious enthusiasm that we shall never forget him as long as we live. Saint John Chrysostomos himself seemed to speak through him to us and to the rest of the world as well! Eighteen Orthodox priests and one deacon—most of whom were Serbs—participated in this unforgettable service. Like the sick man who had been lowered through the roof of a house and placed in front of the feet of Christ the Savior, the Greek Archimandrite Meletios was carried on a stretcher into the chapel, where he remained prostrate for the duration of the service.
Other prisoners at Dachau included the recently canonized Bishop Nikolai Velimirovich, who later became the first administrator of the Serbian Orthodox Church in the US and Canada; and the Very Reverend Archimandrite Dionysios, who after the war was made Metropolitan of Trikkis and Stagnon in Greece.
Fr. Dionysios had been arrested in 1942 for giving asylum to an English officer fleeing the Nazis. He was tortured for not revealing the names of others involved in aiding Allied soldiers and was then imprisoned for eighteen months in Thessalonica before being transferred to Dachau. During his two years at Dachau, he witnessed Nazi atrocities and suffered greatly himself. He recorded many harrowing experiences in his book Ieroi Palmoi. Among these were regular marches to the firing squad, where he would be spared at the last moment, ridiculed, and then returned to the destitution of the prisoners’ block.
After the liberation, Fr. Dionysios helped the Allies to relocate former Dachau inmates and to bring some normalcy to their disrupted lives. Before his death, Metropolitan Dionysios returned to Dachau from Greece and celebrated the first peacetime Orthodox Liturgy there. Writing in 1949, Fr. Dionysios remembered Pascha 1945 in these words:
In the open air, behind the shanty, the Orthodox gather together, Greeks and Serbs. In the center, both priests, the Serb and the Greek. They aren't wearing golden vestments. They don't even have cassocks. No tapers, no service books in their hands. But now they don't need external, material lights to hymn the joy. The souls of all are aflame, swimming in light.
Blessed is our God. My little paper-bound New Testament has come into its glory. We chant “Christ is Risen” many times, and its echo reverberates everywhere and sanctifies this place.
Hitler's Germany, the tragic symbol of the world without Christ, no longer exists. And the hymn of the life of faith was going up from all the souls; the life that proceeds buoyantly toward the Crucified One of the verdant hill of Stein.
On April 29, 1995—the fiftieth anniversary of the liberation of Dachau—the Russian Orthodox Memorial Chapel of Dachau was consecrated. Dedicated to the Resurrection of Christ, the chapel holds an icon depicting angels opening the gates of the concentration camp and Christ Himself leading the prisoners to freedom. The simple wooden block conical architecture of the chapel is representative of the traditional funeral chapels of the Russian North. The sections of the chapel were constructed by experienced craftsmen in the Vladimir region of Russia, and assembled in Dachau by veterans of the Western Group of Russian Forces just before their departure from Germany in 1994. The priests who participated in the 1945 Paschal Liturgy are commemorated at every service held in the chapel, along with all Orthodox Christians who lost their lives “at this place, or at another place of torture.”
submitted by Yurii_S_Kh to SophiaWisdomOfGod [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 21:06 MaliciousMango1 New City-Wide Transportation Proposal

New City-Wide Transportation Proposal
https://preview.redd.it/rlkc7yojof0d1.png?width=1906&format=png&auto=webp&s=4a6b3fa6560166c071e669e031f43e7aeff6f620
Hello everyone, first off this is a serious post about my proposal to for a new transportation system
Now, in my ideal world there would be only bike paths everywhere. However, I concede that not everyone is always able to use a bike for transportation in this day and age. While considering this problem I came up with an amazing idea: the Athens Monorail!.
There is nothing on earth like a genuine bonafide electrified six car monorail. I'll describe to you all the ways my monorail can help improve the economy and overall change the way of life for the citizens of Athens.
The Stations:
The monorail stations are placed in the most strategic positions to form what will henceforth be know as: The Triangle of Trust. The triangle, being the strongest of all shapes cannot be broken.
Each station will have a unique purpose and theme. I'll start with the first station:
The Chicago Union Station. Named with the intent to confuse unaware passengers (do we really want people coming to our city who can't read a map?). This station will be in the place of the Home Deport on Epps Bridge because there is a Lowes like right across the street and I don't think we really need two hardware stores that close. This station will feature an EXPANSIVE parking deck so that all east bound traffic from Atlanta can park their cars and enter the station. Upon exiting the parking garage and entering the station, passengers will be greeted with a huge atrium complete with exotic dancers and holographic displays directing them to their platforms.
Eastside Station will take over everyone's favorite abandoned shopping center. This will be the most modest of all the stations and will be themed to resemble a log cabin and maybe have an aquarium, I don't know. There will be very few lights and it will be a place you should be scared to be at night time.
Downtown Station will exist completely underground with only a small entrance above ground. This will of course service all of downtown, but will also include numerous restaurants, shops, and a funeral home. To get from the platform to the surface we will feature high-speed escalators powered by the flow of the river.
The Train:
The train cars will all be designed and powered by an eternal engine so that in the event of a city-wide emergency they can be used snowpiercer style as a safe place for people to live. As mentioned before, all the trains will be six cars, however the first two cars will be exclusive "luxury" cars and can be rented out for orgies or whatever rich people do. Each train will of course run on ONE RAIL, however there will be two sets of rail so that trains can be going in both directions. People crossing to the inside track will need to jump over the outside one when a train isn't coming.
Funding:
If every citizen in Athens signs up for as many credit cards as they can, then we can max them out to fund the monorail. Also, we can borrow as much as we can and sell any assets we have. The future generation will appreciate us for doing this for them. Eminent domain will apply to all property in the way of the completion of the monorail, no expense will be spared to demolish historical or cultural buildings in the way. It will run both above and below ground in a perfectly straight line to allow maximum speed.
Well, I hope everyone likes my idea. I'll see about getting it on a ballot, I'm sure it will be approved. Remember, when things look glum, vote for the one. The one being the one rail AKA monorail.
submitted by MaliciousMango1 to Athens [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 21:06 Salamandible Any houses with a different (more international?) scent profile

Most houses I see posted on here have a lot of perfumes containing sweet notes like vanilla, marshmallow, sugar or honey. That's totally natural, as I understand these notes are very typical to american scents, however I find them very overpowering and they make perfumes smell less "clean" to me - a little girlier, a little more cloying, a little more juvenile. I prefer scents with a strong profile, rather than ones which are "rounded out". All a matter of preference, of course. I like vanilla on its own, but it seems to weasel its way into so many scents that I would otherwise love to try. Are there any houses that have a very sparing use of these notes? It is disheartening to keep reading perfume directories and having to cross out so many of the scents listed. Alternatively, are there any houses which use very few notes per perfume, or have a very strong direction for each perfume? e.g. *very* green, *very* tea, *very* spiced, *very* bitter? Currently I have had the most success getting single notes and layering them myself, but I would prefer an option in between.
submitted by Salamandible to Indiemakeupandmore [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 20:59 Flagg1991 Children of the Night (Part 1)

What am I doing? Dominick Mason asked himself for the hundredth time that night. It was late on a rainy Sunday evening and Dom, a tall, lanky man-boy of twenty-five with a prominent Adam’s apple and too big eyes, stared out the rain-slicked window of the 905. The big bus swayed and jostled as it lumbered down Central Avenue, the movements strangely comforting, conducive to reflection…and self-doubt.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed, and a pit opened up in his stomach. He fumbled it out with long fingers and read the text. Are u almost here
His thumb hovered over the screen, but he did not reply. Part of him wanted to block the number, slink back home with his tail between his legs, and forget the whole thing. He could boot up his PS4 and play Red Dead Redemption or GTA V like always. Safe. Familiar. The thought, however, stirred a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.
It was dread.
Every night, he did the same thing. He came home from work to his tiny prison cell apartment. He had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He played video games until it was time to go to bed. The worst part of the whole night was when he turned off the TV and saw his murky reflection in the screen. Plaid. Scrawny. Disgusting. He hated being locked in that apartment, with its old smells and white walls, but he hated going out even more. At least in his hole, he was safe, like a mouse. No one hurt or lied to him there. No one gave him funny looks. No one rejected him. He was completely safe in his solitude, a wounded animal hiding in its den and licking its wounds.
He was wounded and he knew it.
And he hated himself for it. Hated that he wasn’t stronger or better. Hated that even though he tried so hard, everything he did fell apart…if it even came together in the first place, which it rarely did.
The phone buzzed again.
Just a question mark this time.
His heart began to race and a steely fist slowly closed around his lungs. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took a deep breath. He pictured himself alone in his little apartment. He loved the image, but he hated it too. Most nights, he didn’t mind being alone. He had to not mind it, because he didn’t have a choice. Some nights…some nights he didn’t want to be alone. Some nights he wanted warmth, he wanted tenderness…some nights, he wanted to be human.
Every so often, Dom would get the urge to find those things. They came less frequently than they did before, but unfortunately, they still came. He would create an account on Plenty of Fish and OKCupid, maybe some of the other sites as well. He would agonize over his stupid intro and his stupid list of hobbies. He would spend hours - literally hours - writing and rewriting them, trying at first to be serious, then light and funny, then cool, then aloof, then vulnerable. He would take the best possible pictures from the best possible angles, then upload them, never lingering over them because he hated the way he looked. He didn’t think he was ugly - mid was more like it - but apparently, he was ugly. Too ugly for love, too ugly even to talk to.
The ugly barnacle. So ugly that everyone died. The end.
All of Dom’s pictures were all selfies, of course. Guys he listened to on YouTube said he needed action shots, shots with friends, shots that showed women he had a life, was valued by those around him, and knew how to have fun. Too bad for him, he had no friends and no one valued him, not even his own mother. On the surface, maybe, but she had hurt him so many times over the years in so many ways that even the most devout son would stop and think.
It had to be selfies.
When his profile was in order - or as much in order as he could get it - he would start to browse. Dom knew his place and never messaged women who were too beautiful. He used to, but they never responded. He eventually began to skip their profiles with a pang of loss and a quiet what if? Now, he barely noticed them. Blonde. Petite. Blue eyes. Maybe she was a cheerleader at one time, maybe she was the type of girl who looked down her nose at guys like him. Maybe she was a sweetheart. In any case, he would never find out, so who cares?
He went for women he could realistically obtain…the type of women he’d dated and hooked up with in the past. Some were attractive in their own way, others were hard to look at, he wasn’t picky; he couldn’t afford to be picky. One woman he saw was a good three hundred pounds. She was nice and he liked her enough, but he lapsed into depression while they were dating and he never messaged her back…not that she made a huge effort to message him. Another was a pre-K teacher in her mid-thirties. Overweight with a big nose, glasses, and a plain face when she wasn’t wearing make-up. He liked her a lot and wanted to be with her, but after a month of weekend hookups, she said she didn’t love him. She told him she wanted a family - three kids, to be exact - but “changed her mind.” No, she didn’t. She just didn’t want those things with him.
Now she was in her late thirties, single, and having regrets.
She still wouldn’t settle for him, though.
Another woman he’d seen recently (six months ago) was fifty, but not unattractive. They texted for weeks, hot and heavy. She outright told him that she wanted to have sex with him. Said all sorts of nasty and sexual things. Their first (and only date) was her coming to his apartment. Instead of tender kisses, loving caresses, and intense emotions, they shared an awkward two hours on his couch. When he tried to hold her hand and put his arm around her, she stiffened. Not much, just a little. She said she “wasn’t ready.” He sat there and watched the flowers he’d gotten her wilt as she talked about her ex for an hour and a half, his arms pointedly crossed. He even leaned as far away from her as humanly possible, trying to communicate with his body language what he didn’t have the guts to communicate with his words: I’m uncomfortable, please leave. He planned to take her to a nice restaurant after they made love. Instead, he ordered something after she finally got the hint and left, eating alone like always.
After her, he deleted his profile (again) and resolved to never bother with dating again. Obviously there was something wrong with him. He saw guys who were uglier and more awkward than him with girlfriends, some actually stunning, but there was something about him in particular, something that repelled women…and men too.
Everyone.
It repelled everyone.
Maybe it was his self-loathing. After all, no one likes a sad sack. But that’s the thing: He was like this because of those experiences. It was a what came first, the chicken or the egg situation. Looking back, he had almost normal confidence at one point. Then all of this happened. The hundreds of messages he sent on the dating apps staying on read, unanswered, like he never sent them at all, like he was garbage unworthy of even a hello. The awkward dates. The occasional “success” that eventually fell apart…sometimes because of him, and sometimes because of them. The one girl who ran away from him when he tried to walk her to her car after a date. They didn’t click, he knew that, but he didn’t say or do anything creepy. Why did she do that? The girls who lead him on, talking about sex and sometimes even love but always had a reason they couldn’t meet.
There were other examples - many others - but it was all the same. Who cared?
Dom wanted to crawl back into his hole and stay there, to stop poking his head out and getting hurt. He wanted it so bad…but he was only human. Deep down, buried beneath layer after layer of scar tissue, there was still hope. Hope for love, for companionship, for acceptance, for intimacy and human touch. It was only an ember now, but even an ember is enough to spark a fire.
Some nights, he wanted to be safe. Other nights, he wanted to take a risk.
And this night was one of the latter.
Be there soon, he texted. He swallowed hard and wetted his lips. His heart was pounding faster and his bowels were loose. He really hoped this worked out. He didn’t think he could handle another rejection. If she turned him down, he’d probably go home and kill himself. Why go on like this?
He’d had that thought before…but he never followed through.
Maybe one day he’d actually shut the fuck up and do it already.
Maybe.
Ok :)
Her name was Heather and she was fat. She was not unattractive in the face and she wore her weight well, not that that mattered - he would take what he could get. They started talking on OKCupid last week and very soon, the conversation became sexual. He didn’t start it, though, she did. She was ahem very excited, she said. He liked to think that she was lonely, desperate, and wanted intimacy - any intimacy - just like him.
That really turned him on.
They agreed to meet, and now here he was, on the bus to her apartment on the other side of the city, hoping against hope that she didn’t hurt him too.
He put the phone away and stared straight ahead. The bus was nearly deserted, save for an old bag lady up front and a few Mexican guys in the back. Lights lined the bus’s roof, providing a cold, impersonal light. Dom took a deep breath and forced his dark emotions away. It was all on him to make this work. He would accept her fat, ugly, poor, and crippled, but he had to work to earn her love. He could do it.
When the bus finally reached his stop, he yanked the cord and got off. There was a plexiglass shelter lit by a single, lonely bulb. Trash littered the ground. Beyond the shelter, a park lay in darkness. Behind him, on the other side of the road, a housing project not unlike his own towered into the sky, lit up like a ship at sail. Dom swallowed his nerves and crossed the street. He found the door that she had directed him to use, and climbed the stairs. He expected trash, graffiti, and winos passed out on every landing. Instead, the stairwell was clean and deserted. His nerves welled as he climbed but he forced them down again. On the ninth floor, he went down the hall, battered on all sides by the stale smells of cooking and the murmur of TVs and voices coming from every apartment.
Dom paused at Apartment 237.
Heather’s.
You got this, he told himself.
And really, he did. Their plan - well, Heather’s, really - was simple and straightforward. She told him that she would leave the door unlocked. He was to come in, go to the bedroom, and she would be waiting for him. She said it was a fantasy of hers.
On some level, he knew all along that the whole setup sounded fishy. Was he being set up to get robbed? Would he walk in and get jumped by a bunch of Crips? He hesitated, but his need for love - and, yes, release - pushed him on.
He opened the door.
Inside, the apartment was small and messy, a living room to the right and a tiny kitchen to the left. The only light on was the one above the stove.
Everything else was in shadows.
Dom’s heart skipped a beat.
This didn’t feel right.
That thought was overpowered by the smell, a sickly sweet odor that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. His stomach twisted and he turned his head slightly to one side, as if to spare his nose. It smelled like something spoiled.
A voice spoke from the darkness, startling him. “I’m in here.”
It was light, airy, and cute.
For the last time, Dom hesitated. Some primal sense told him to turn around and leave…
…but he wanted to be loved.
Dom entered and shut the door behind him.
The smell was stronger. The atmosphere darker.
Ahead, he could barely make out an open doorway in the shadows.
He crossed to it.
The smell was overpowering here and Dom felt like he was going to puke. Any desire he had felt was gone, replaced only by revulsion and claustrophobia. It was cold, he realized, so cold that his teeth chattered.
Okay, fuck this.
He started to turn around, intent on leaving, but a small, white hand reached from the darkness. Icy fingertips brushed his cheek and his heart blasted into his throat.
Then she was there, her body pressing against his and her lips fused with his. The smell, the freezer chill, both stronger than ever.
They were both coming from her.
Her tongue hungrily lashed his own, and she pushed him against the wall. Her hands slipped under his shirt and pressed flat against his chest. They were so cold that he almost cried out.
Dom wanted to push her away, to run, but he didn’t. Instead, he froze up and allowed her to push him onto the bed. Was he too gutless to tell her no, the way he’d been too gutless to tell the woman who went on and on about her ex to shut up and leave? Did he secretly want to go through with this? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to figure it out. She was on top of him now, straddling him, his legs caged between her ample thighs. She grabbed his hands and pressed them to her bare breasts.
They were as cold as the rest of her.
She leaned down and kissed him again. He hadn’t noticed it before, but her tongue was…dry. Her mouth itself tasted strange. Off.
Heather broke from his lips and peppered kisses on his cheek and forehead, assaulting him with an intimacy that Dom no longer wanted.
Through it all, she was as silent as a tomb. She wasn’t panting or rasping with excitement. In fact, he didn’t think she was even breathing.
She brushed her lips along the exposed curve of his throat, and tingles of revulsion shot down his spine. She found his pulse and kissed it. Trembles of excitement raced through her body and she started to lap his neck like a dog.
Without warning, a fiery pinprick of pain exploded over him and Heather began to shake and pant. Dom cried out and tried to fight her off, but she was too heavy, too much.
With a tiny, mouse-like squeak - a sound of pitiable fear and resignation - Dom blacked out.
submitted by Flagg1991 to LetsReadOfficial [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 20:59 Iconicdnderrant A strange and sad encounter

Good morning, men and women of this subreddit I hope you're having a good day.
I come to you with a situation that happened to me a couple of days ago and that I haven't been able to get out of my head. To begin with, I'm a man (25) and for a couple of years now, I made the decision to put aside everything related to romantic matters or going out on dates with other people, because the last time I opened my heart, things went really wrong, very wrong, and let's say that my love mourning has been long (Much longer than I would like.) Anyway, the situation was like this.
A couple of days ago, around 7:30 pm, it was raining and I left my job to buy a coffee, as I do once a week at a bar & restaurant. When I entered, I ordered my coffee and waited. Then, a well-dressed Asian woman (by well-dressed I mean a high-value businesswoman) approached me and asked if I was a certain Fabian. I quickly told her no, and a look of disappointment crossed her face. Uncomfortably due to the confusion, she apologized to me. I just told her not to apologize and asked her about the issue. She became uncomfortable and after much hesitation, she told me that she had a date but the guy hadn't shown up after 15 minutes.
After receiving my coffee, we talked, and a little while later, she invited me to her table. I had time to spare before taking the bus home. To keep this short, it turns out that her appearance didn't lie, and this woman had a lot of money and was living in my country for business purposes, she had been here for a year and a half. She told me about the many things she had and how, at her age, it was very difficult for her to find a partner, let alone someone to marry (she looked to be in her late 30s). I won't lie, I liked meeting her, however, I felt uncomfortable when I had to tell her about myself.
With some discomfort, I told her about myself, about living with my parents and how I was saving up to buy a house or an apartment, about my job as an IT support and my decision not to have romantic relationships. I'm sure I saw how disappointed she was to hear this. I wasn't comfortable telling her all this, but in my head, "It was only fair." The thing is, there was a silence, not an uncomfortable one, but a sad one. In the end, she asked if I wanted to accompany her home to hang out. I, on the other hand, even more uncomfortable, just told her no, because I had never had relationships before (We never got that far with my previous partner, I know, sad) and also because I shouldn't choose a partner in this way just because she was desperate. She just said she felt very lonely.
The truth is, I understood her, I have also felt more alone lately. Anyway, I saw the time on my phone and told her I had to go or I would miss my bus, we said goodbye, and I wished her luck in her search for love.
Several days have passed since then, and for some reason, I haven't been able to get this woman out of my head, mostly because somehow I thought I had finished with romantic issues in my life, but this situation has made me feel sad and lonely again. Maybe I saw myself reflected in her or something, I really don't know. There are a couple of things I left out to not make this longer than it should be, but anyway, I wanted to tell this because I still have doubts about why these feelings of sadness and loneliness have returned to me.
Anyway, I wish you all a good day and a better week.
submitted by Iconicdnderrant to dating [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 20:14 RainInMyBr4in The disappearance of Fiona Sinnott

Fiona Sinnott was a 19 year old Irish woman who vanished after a night out in County Wexford on February 8th 1998. At the time of her disappearance, Fiona was a single mother to an 11 month old daughter, Emma.
The night of Sunday 8th started off normally and Fiona spent it socialising with her friends at Butler's Pub in Broadway, County Wexford which also happened to be close to her home. Her friends Nora, Joan and Martina all described Fiona as being in good spirts that night but did state that she kept complaining of a bad pain in her arm. Her friends and Garda later considered that this could have been related to a past relationship she had broken off. Fiona had suffered immense physical abuse at the hands of a former boyfriend and had hospitalised herself after being violently attacked on numerous occasions. Her injuries had included bruises to her face, bites to her legs, being beaten about the head and back and even a fractured jaw. She had confided in close friends details about these attacks but never filed any complaints against the perpetrator. Despite this pain in her arm, however, Fiona seemed to be in good form and enjoyed a good night out with her friends. At one point, she called her brother Séamus and asked him to come down to the pub but he declined as he was tired after a long day at work. He later stated that he wondered if something had happened to Fiona while at the pub and had she contacted him as a way of seeking help. Either way, this was the last contact Fiona had with her family. At around midnight, Fiona decided to return home as the pain in her arm was causing her great discomfort. She supposedly asked her ex-boyfriend, a man by the name of Seán Carroll, if he could walk her home. Carroll was the father of Fiona's child and although their relationship had ended, they allegedly remained on good terms. He had been drinking alone at the premises and willingly agreed to walk her back to her home, which wasn't far from the pub. They left together shortly after midnight.
Fiona wasn't reported missing until February 18th, 9 days after she was last seen leaving the pub. Her family hadn't reported her missing sooner as she reportedly had a habit of traversing the country to visit people and would sometimes be without contact for several days at a time. However, after 9 days of silence, her family knew something was terribly wrong, especially as she hadn't contacted Sean's family, with whom she had a childcare arrangement, to collect her daughter. Her father, Pat, then filed a missing persons report. Seán was the first to be interviewed as he was the last person to see Fiona. He told Gardaí that he and Fiona had walked back to her home slowly as her pain was causing her immense discomfort. Upon entering her property, he offered her coffee but she declined and went immediately to bed. He slept on the sofa that night while she went to sleep in the upstairs bedroom. He awoke at 9am and went into Fiona's room where he woke her up and she had told him that she would be visiting the doctors in Bridgetown to see about her arm. Seán gave her some money and then left the house as his mother had arrived to collect him. She drove him home to Coddstown, two miles west of Broadway. He stated that when he left, Fiona was awake and sitting up in bed.
When Garda began to investigate Fiona's house in the hopes of finding clues, they were met with an unusual sight. According to a Gardaí officer, "Her house was immaculately cleaned, almost spotless. This was unusual for Fiona, especially as she had been suffering from arm pain before she disappeared. Her family told us that she was not house proud and she would have always had some mess lying around. Because of this, we don't believe Fiona tidied the house. We searched everywhere for clues but found nothing- everything had been painstakingly cleaned". Fiona's landlord also stated that because of her young daughter, anytime he went to visit the house it "always had bits and bobs scattered around". Fiona's neighbour's reported that in the days after her disappearance, numerous black bin bags appeared outside of her house. However, these had vanished by the time she was reported missing. Several weeks after her disappearance, a local farmer came forward to Garda and stated that while he had been tending to his cattle, he stumbled upon numerous bin bags dumped on his property and that when he opened them, he found numerous letters and documents addressed to Fiona Sinnott. Regretfully, he was unaware of her disappearance at the time and had burned the bags as he believed it to be the result of fly tipping, something that was a big problem then.
As of today, 26 years later, no trace of Fiona has ever been found. However, in 2005 her case was upgraded to a murder enquiry. Shockingly, when her family attempted to erect a memorial plaque in 2008 close to the pub where she was last seen, it was destroyed the night before being unveiled and a second plaque was also destroyed a few months later. However, a third plaque remains to this day down by the harbour. Despite these setbacks, her family have not given up hope of finding her and bringing her home. They have stated that they know exactly who killed her but that the perpetrator now resides in mainland Europe. Garda have also stated they have a person of interest but, as the family stated, they no longer live in Ireland. According to Fiona's family in their most recent Facebook update, she was "terrified" of Seán after their turbulent relationship and would never have asked him to walk her home. They believe he followed her out of the pub without being asked, contrary to the original version of events. He also reportedly told her landlord multiple times that she was in London just after her disappearance, which was quickly disproven. In addition, a woman's scream was heard at around 12:30am in the Kisha Cross area, roughly halfway back to Fiona's home. Finally, Seán had told Fiona's family that he had slept on the sofa, which is odd as she had a spare bedroom that he could have used. He also claimed that he slept on the chaise lounge which makes no sense as it was only 3 feet long. Although this information is telling, no convictions have been made and Fiona's remains have never been found. Until this happens, her family will not receive the peace and closure they deserve and their nightmare only continues.
Sources: https://m.sundayworld.com/news/irish-news/gardai-say-people-know-what-happened-to-fiona-sinnott-last-seen-25-years-ago-today/1754438002.html
https://www.irelandsvanishingtriangle.com/fiona-sinnott
'Missing' by Barry Cummins
submitted by RainInMyBr4in to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 20:13 beepiz Hate The Training

I came back to Amazon and I have no genuine qualms about the job. I'm only bothered by the trainer and I had to make 2 ethics complaints against them. Firstly, they openly try and push some safety tips but not others. She tells us to not honk our horns or reverse, but then will tell us we will get fired if we don't use the e break. Secondly, she's an idiot outright. Colorado is a state in which you are allowed a digital license, my contract doesn't cross state lines. I used that ID for a DSP that did cross state lines prior and had no issue so imagine my shock when she tells me it isn't a real form of ID. I watch as she's just filling out sheets with our DL number on it for the drive set up tomorrow. Meaning those people will get to go first, and the rest of us who are IDless will have to go after. I'm annoyed and show her my digital ID and the safe guards it has to ensure it's real, she again tells me no. My prior driver trainer were two men from the state of Colorado, she is a Californian. She clearly doesn't know Colorado driving laws or rules, etc. She tells me she can't use it. I tell her I'm not just going to bring my physical on me tomorrow when I have this, this has always been the ID I have used on the road. I go to my DSP and they're confused as I am, they hand me a copy of the physical ID and outright said that they had seen it so it doesn't matter. She only needs the number. She is pissed I went to my DSP, she told me she doesn't want the paper and angrily writes down my DL number as I read it off the page. I went to ethics about it cause that felt off as hell to me and if a Californian doesn't understand the regulations in Colorado you shouldn't train here. Lastly, once this was all said and done she was giving out candy for answering questions. She always arced it so it would go high up and behind the tables usually. For me I got nailed dead center of my forehead and she didn't even apologize. She just giggled and continued to throw candy. I went to Ethics cause I feel like she really needs to be trained some more, but that could just be me. I know ethics won't do much so I didn't give names just general details and how she is an out of stater who doesn't know our rules (openly has told the entire class that she hasn't even been to Denver yet and she just got here).
submitted by beepiz to AmazonDSPDrivers [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 20:12 ungitybungity Success!

Excited to report that my first ever attempt at hand pollinating anything was a success! I’m a home builder, me and my Dad were marking property lines and discovered two groves of wild pawpaws on two lots we were having cleared late last summer. I made sure they were spared from the bulldozer and successfully transplanted a sucker tree to my home.
Earlier this spring, I made 2 or 3 excursions into the woods while the flowers were in bloom and did some hand pollinating with no real expectation of success, as YouTube and Reddit can only teach so much judgement and skill.
Upon inspection this morning I found that One of the two groves had several fruits forming on two or three different trees! I’m so glad we have grown close to the people that are about to close on the house these are located on, because I’m so stoked at the prospect of finally getting to taste a pawpaw. I’ve even managed to get the wife of the couple moving in stoked on them too, enough so that she let me make a plant bed around the mother tree and plant a new seedling in there to add some genetic diversity in a few years.
Fingers crossed these little things turn out to be a winner in the flavor profile lottery !
Thanks for coming to my novice pawpaw lovers Ted talk. These are such neat trees.
submitted by ungitybungity to Pawpaws [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 19:36 kingfroglord How to Budget a Combat Encounter for Dummies

I realized while lurking this subreddit that many newer GMs posting here may find themselves confused as to how to properly balance their combat encounters. This is wholly understandable as the book isn't exactly clear on the process. I thought I'd share my insight so as to help any prospective GMs design a clean and effective opfor.
Credentials: I've been GMing Lancer for ~3 years now and have run multiple successful campaigns to completion, both custom and on-module. I teach newbies how to play on the regular and have coached these same newbies to run their own combats sessions.
Disclaimer: The following rules are my own method to encounter building, and while many other GMs in the community follow these rough guidelines you can expect everyone to have their own twist on it. Another GM you talk to will surely have tweaks on what I present here, but that's okay and honestly kind of cool. We all have our own signature method of playing this game and this happens to be mine!
I will endeavor to make this guide as short as possible so as to be easy to reference. Feel free to reach out if you wanted clarification.
Step 0: Nomenclature
A quick glossary of terms I'll be using frequently.
-OpFor: Stands for oppositional force. That means your entire collection of baddies used for a given combat encounter.
-Structure: The structure points for your NPCs. Normal NPCs have only 1 structure by default, but templates like Elite or Veteran can increase that.
-Activations: The number of times an individual NPC can take a turn during a round of combat. Most NPCs have only 1 activation by default, but templates like Elite or Ultra can increase that.
-Budget: The total number of NPCs you should be using for a combat encounter, based on how much Structure each individual NPC has.
Step 1: Pick a Sitrep/Budget
The first thing you need to do before you go any further is pick your Sitrep, starting at page 267 in the Core Rulebook. This is the objective that you and your players will be competing against each other to accomplish. Sitreps are an absolutely essential aspect of Lancer combat and the entire engine is designed around ensuring that you and your players have clear-cut goals with specific win conditions outlined. You can still have the occassional death match, if you're so inclined, but they should be infrequent to rare at best.
The Sitrep also determines your Budget. You'll note that each Sitrep descriptions says something like "Use the normal amount of enemies" or "Use double the amount of enemies as normal." This is what we like to call a "Single Budget" or a "Double Budget," respectively.
A Single Budget encounter should have enough total NPC Structure to equal 2x the number of players partaking in the combat. For example, if you have 4 players, you want the total Structure from all your NPCs to be 8. If you have 3 players, the total Structure from all NPCs should be 6.
This includes reinforcements.
A double budget encounter simply doubles that. 4 players would equal 16 total NPC Structure, 3 players would equal 12 total NPC structure, and so on.
I'll make a comment below that lists which Sitreps have a Single Budget and which Sitreps have a Double Budget.
Step 2: Balancing Damage
It's entirely possible to do too much damage to your players. NPCs hit hard and you need to make sure they're not hitting so hard that your players don't have a chance to respond. Therefore, never have more than 50% of your OpFor be damage dealing NPCs.
The precise nature of a "damage dealing" NPC is up for interpretation. It is universally accepted that all Strikers and all Artillery archetypes are damage dealers. However, some Controllers and even Defenders fall into this category as well. Knowing who the black sheep of each archetype is comes with time and experience and every GM will tell you who they think is the biggest threat.
For now, stick to focusing on Strikers and Artillery until you get a better sense of who's who.
Step 3: Archetype Spread
In addition to having only 50% of your OpFor be damage dealers, make sure that the rest of the NPCs you're using have a healthy spread of different archetypes. That means Support, Controller, and Defender.
You don't have to have one of each, as a rule, but if you're just starting out then that's at least a good guide rail to use until you're more comfortable experimenting.
Step 4: Don't Overdo Templates
One of the biggest mistakes I see new GMs make is to apply the Pirate Template to every single NPC in their OpFor. "But they're all pirates," they'll tell me, confused as to why their players had a miserable time going against +1d6 damage on crit from every single enemy.
Here's what the book doesn't tell you: Templates affect mechanics, not flavor. Only apply a Template to an NPC to give it the strict mechanical benefits that come with it and never for any other reason!
You can have an NPC be a pirate and not use the pirate template. In fact, you absolutely SHOULD have an NPC be a pirate without using the pirate template. The trick to this is to simply say "This guy is a pirate" and not do anything else. It's as easy as that.
Use Templates sparingly. If you're new, I wouldn't recommend using more than 1 per combat. Even now I don't really do more than 2-3, if that.
Step 5: Fair Deployment
Once you have your OpFor picked out and ready to roll, it's time to put them on the board. In an effort to not overwhelm your players but still have enough presence to apply a bit of pressure, only deploy enough NPCs so that their combined Activations equals 1.5x the number of players. For example, if you have 4 players, only have 6 activations on the board. That means 6 normal enemies, 4 normal enemies and an Elite, etc. I like to think of this as a Soft Cap for Activations.
The rest of your OpFor should be kept back as reinforcements. Follow the reinforcement rules of your chosen Sitrep to figure out when they should enter the fray, and how many.
Additionally, never have NPC activations exceed 2x the number of players. They will be overwhelmed very fast and nobody will have fun. Consider this a Hard Cap for Activations.
If you have reinforcements ready to go but you're already at the Soft Cap, you can bring more if the players are winning and you want to turn up the heat. If the players are losing, hold off and wait until they're in a better position. It's your job as GM to moderate the difficulty of combat based on active circumstances.
If you're already at Hard Cap, then no reinforcements get to enter the board yet. Wait until your players start scoring kills, the suckers.
The End
There's more nuance that goes into it than that, but this is a good starting point for anyone who just wants to wrap their heads around a complex system. As you get experienced, you'll start experimenting more with synergy, cross-classing, custom sitreps, and all kinds of crazy shit. The more experience you have, the more you'll be free to fuck around without breaking the game!
submitted by kingfroglord to LancerRPG [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 19:26 UnfinishedDrawings Annoying Tiktokers

Broo im in 3rd period trying to get some work done and the three stooges get up and start doing that cups song tiktok thing. One guy starts loudly and poorly singing while two girls loudly bang their water bottles on the desk to the song. Now i already knew these kids were spoiled (theyre always catering smth like chick fil a for lunch, or talking about expensive stuff, or a personal trainer, which i wouldn’t know if they didnt always talk so loudly). But dang- this crossed the line. These kids actually have no awareness of the ppl around them. It doesn’t help that ppl are screaming outside the class
submitted by UnfinishedDrawings to highschool [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 18:19 HeidiInWonderland Busted and house arrest

9:30am PA announcement for Heidi Goldstein to report to Ms. French's office. Embarrassing, class staring at me.
Waiting around the table for me was Ms. French, Coach (!), the dean (!!)...and Mom (!!!). Faces were not friendly.
Me: Mom, why are you here? Is Dad OK? Lita?
Mom: Everyone is fine.
Me: Am I in trouble? Did I do anything wrong?
Silence
Dean: We received an anonymous tip this morning, Heidi. The person claims you are engaging in behavior that could be dangerous to yourself or others. By law, we are required to investigate any and all such claims, whether or not they are anonymous.
Me: Whaaaat??? Who reported me? Why? Self-harm myself? Harm others? How? I love my school and also feel blessed for every single aspect of my life, from the time I wake up to the time I go to sleep. How can I be self-harming?
Dean: Coach, can you provide some background?
Coach: Two weeks ago I met with you and Lita. You talked about wanting to train to run the 10K. Do you remember what I said?
Me: Yes. You said I would need clearance from my doctor and I would have to do cross training with a certified coach.
Coach: Did you follow up?
Me: Yes, Lita and I spoke to our parents and they said they would support us. We've been researching gyms with a pool and with the right equipment. And also trainers who are certified.
Dean: But did you fulfill what you promised?
Me: No, but it is all in the works. There was just no time in our schedules to finalize the details yet.
Coach: The person who filed the complaint said you started training for the 10K on your own. Is this true?
Me: Yes, but just on weekends on our own time. Why does that matter? Why is that your business, Coach? It's my time.
Coach: Didn't I tell you about how much physical stress is involved in this type of training? It's not simply 5K + 5K. If you do not train carefully, you can injure yourselves very seriously. I am sure that your doctor would probably recommend that you even consult with a cardiologist.
Me: But before the track meets we were running well past the 5K together with you!
Coach: Gently. Under my supervision. With me walk/running in the pack, right there.
Ms. French: And, God forbid, if you had gone into cardiac arrest and died on the "it's-none-of-your-business" run, don't you think it would harm every single person in our school community, not to mention all of your family members and friends?
Me: I see where you are going with this. I understand. I'm sorry and accept responsibility.
Coach: And didn't we go through something just like this when Lita came early to the Morning Run after already doing unsupervised training? And didn't you observe her getting suspended for a week? Didn't you learn from that? You broke the trust between a coach and the athlete. That trust is not easily restored.
Me: OK. I get it. I apologize again. I deserve a suspense from the Morning Run.
Ms. French: It's not so simple, Honey. You observed Lita's punishment, right? That constitutes being forewarned and you went ahead and did virtually the same thing again on your own.
Dean: Agreed. I think we need to go further than suspending you from the Morning Run. I think a 2-day suspension from school is warranted.
Me: You can't do that to me! I'm a straight A student. I've read the Citywide Student Code for Behavior. Since when is doing more than expected a violation of "Rights and Responsibilities"?
Dean: Heidi, you said you understood, but you didn't digest what your coach said five minutes ago! You are now in denial. I don't think you have learned anything from what was just said to you. It's now a 3-day suspension.
Me: But I have important rehearsals in Jazz Band. And we are doing such an important project in Global History and Geography. You can't do this to me!
Dean: There are consequences for our actions. Should there be different standards for straight A students?
Me: Yes! We deserved it!
Dean: You are now insubordinate and bordering on racism and and classism. You are overentitled and talk too much. It's a 4-day suspension now. Anything else to say? I can go up to 10 days.
Me: This is so unfair. I don't want a suspension on my record!
Mom: Heidi, shut up. It's time for us to go home.
Dean: I am concluding this hearing at 10:05am. Thank you, everyone.
Here is actually when Mom came to my aid.
Mom: Wait a second. As you know, I'm an attorney and know that my daughter has due process rights. You did not provide me with written notification that this would be a suspense hearing rather than a guidance intervention. We are going to appeal this decision and we will win even at the first level. Come on, Heidi, let's go.
Ms. French: First go straight to your locker, Heidi, and get your things. No talking or signaIing to your friends. I will have your teachers email you your assignments and homework.
As I was leaving I saw Ms. French sit down with Mom. This what came out on our walk home.
Mom: You know, you can really be arrogant and self-righteous, Heidi, and you made things worse for yourself! Couldn't you read what was happening there? Couldn't you tell you were dealing with a Dr. Andrews with that Dean? Did you get enough of an adrenaline rush to make a couple of extra suspense days and a new enemy worthwhile?
You and Lita never even told us that you were trying to break the 5K unsupervised. You broke our trust as well. You guys promised to never endanger the family with your behavior. That is exactly what you just did. They were absolutely right in suspending you.
And there are going to be consequences at home. I will have to talk to your father and Lita's parents but for now you are completely grounded until your suspension is over on Friday. We are talking about house arrest. And that means no sleepovers. And don't you dare roll your eyes, pout, or start acting like you are a victim.
And do you know what Ms. French shared with me after everyone else left? It was how much she and Coach have come to love you over the course of your year at the school, that this is just a learning experience, and I shouldn't be too tough on you. It seems that a lot of planning went into that little meeting we just left. I suspect that out of respect for you, they intentionally neglected to provide me with that due process notification so you could win an appeal and the suspense won't be on your record. There's a lot for you to reflect on.
I'm going back to work.
Me: You're right, Mom. I love you. But can't you spend the day with me?
Mom: No, I can't. Go commiserate with Frank Sinatra.
But she did give me a wink and kiss.
submitted by HeidiInWonderland to LoHeidiLita [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 18:08 Mophandel Archaeotherium, the King of the White River Badlands

Archaeotherium, the King of the White River Badlands
Art by Bob Nicholls
Nowadays, when we envision the words “prey,” among modern mammalian fauna, few taxa come to mind as quickly as the hoofed mammals, better known as the ungulates. Indeed, for the better part of their entire evolutionary history, the ungulates have become entirely indistinguishable from the term “prey.” Across their two major modern branches, the artiodactyls (the “even-toed ungulates,” such as bovids, pigs, deer, hippos and giraffes) and the perissodactyls (the “odd-toed ungulates,” including horses, rhinos and tapir), the ungulates too have created an empire spanning nearly every continent, establishing themselves as the the dominant herbivores throughout their entire range. However, as a price for such success, their lot as herbivores have forced them into an unenviable position: being the food for the predators. Indeed, throughout the diets of most modern predators, ungulates make up the majority, if not the entirety, of their diet, becoming their counterparts in this evolutionary dance of theirs. They have become the lamb to their wolf, the zebra to their lion, the stag to their tiger. If there is a predator in need of lunch, chances are that there is an ungulate there to provide it. Of course, such a dynamic is not necessarily a recent innovation. For the last 15-20 million years, across much of the world, both new and old, the ungulates have served as prey for these predators through it all. Over the course of whole epochs, these two groups have played into these roles for millions of years, coevolving with each other in an eons-long game of cat-and-mouse. The shoes they fill are not new, but have existed for ages, and within their niches they have cultivated their roles to perfection. Indeed, with such a tenured history, it seems hardly surprising the ungulates are wholly inseparable from the terms “prey,” itself.
However, while this is the case now, as it has been for the last 15-20 million years, go back far enough, and we see that this dynamic is not as set in stone as we would think. Indeed, back during the Eocene and Oligocene, during the very earliest days of age of mammals, things were very different for the ungulates. While today they are considered little more than food for modern predators, during these olden days, the ungulates weren’t quite so benign. In fact, far from being fodder for top predators, the ungulates had turned the tables, instead becoming top predators themselves. Indeed, though nearly unheard of today, throughout much of the Eocene and Oligocene, carnivorous ungulates thrived in abundance, developing specializations for catching large prey and establishing themselves as top predators that competed alongside the more traditional carnivores, and even dominating them in some instances. Given such success, it’s no wonder that multiple such clades had arisen during this time. Such predators included the arctocyonids, a lineage of (ironically) hoof-less ungulates with large jaws and sharp teeth for capturing large prey. There were also the mesonychians, a lineage of dog-like ungulates with massive skulls and jaws that allowed them to reign as the top predator across much of the Eocene.
However, among these various lineages, one stands stands out among the rest, by far. Arising during the Eocene, this lineage, though superficially resembling modern pigs, hailed from one an ancient lineage of artiodactyls far removed from swine or most other ungulates in general, with few close relatives alive today. Through perhaps not the most predatory of the bunch, it was among the most formidable, as their superficially pig-like appearance came with giant predatory jaws and teeth unlike anything from the modern era. And of course, as if all of that wasn’t enough, this lineage also went on to earn arguably one of the most badass nicknames of any lineage of mammals, period. These predators, of course, were the entelodonts, a.k.a the “hell-pigs.” More so than any other predatory ungulate lineage, these formidable ungulates were the ones to turn the current paradigm upside down, becoming some of the largest and most dominant carnivores in their landscape, even with (and often in spite of) the presence of more traditional predators. Through impressive size, fearsome teeth and sheer tenacity, these animals became the top dogs of their time, ruling as behemoth-kings of their Paleogene kingdoms, domineering all comers, and throughout the ranks, one entelodont in particular demonstrated such dominance the best. Though not the largest or most powerful of their kind, it is one of the most iconic, being among the most well-known members of its lineage to date. Moreover, this enteledont also has some of the most complete life histories ever seen out of this clade, with its brutality and predatory prowess being displayed in the fossil record in a way seen in no other member of its kind. More than anything else, however, it was this predator that best turned the notion of “ungulates being prey” on its head, living in an environment that bore some of the largest carnivoran hypercarnivores to date and still reigning as the undisputed top predator of its domain. This fearsome beast was none other than Archaeotherium, icon of the entelodonts, terror of the Oligocene American west and undisputed king of the White River badlands.
The rise of Archaeotherium (and of entelodonts in general) is closely tied to the ascendancy of carnivorous ungulates as a whole, one of the earliest evolutionary success stories of the entire Cenozoic. Having become their own derived clade since the late Cretaceous, the ungulates were remarkably successful during the early Paleogene, as they were among the first mammalian clades to reach large sizes during those early days after the non-avian dinosaurs had gone extinct. As such, it was with incredible swiftness that, as the Paleogene progressed, the ungulates swooped upon the various niches left empty by the K-Pg mass extinction that killed the dinosaurs. This of course included the herbivorous niches we would know them for today, but this also included other, much more carnivore roles. Indeed, early on during the Paleogene, it was the ungulates that first seized the roles of large mammalian predators, becoming some the earliest large mammalian carnivores to ever live, well before even the carnivorans. Such predators included the arctocyonids, a lineage of vaguely dog-like, hoof-less ungulates with robust jaws and sharpened teeth that acted as some of earliest large carnivores of the Paleocene, with genera such as Arctocyon mumak getting up to the size of big cats. Even more prolific were the mesonychids. More so than what pretty much any other lineage of predator, it was the mesonychids that would stand out as the earliest dominant predators of the early Cenozoic. Growing up to the size of bears and with enormous, bone-crushing jaws, the mesonychids were among the most powerful and successful predators on the market at that time, with a near-global range and being capable of subjugating just about any other predator in their environments. Indeed, they, along with other carnivorous ungulates (as well as ungulates in general), were experiencing a golden age during this time, easily being the most prolific predators of the age. Given such prevalence, it should be no surprise that there would be yet another lineage of predatory ungulates would throw their hat into the ring, and by early Eocene, that contender would none other than the entelodonts.
The very first entelodonts had arisen from artiodactyl ancestors during the Eocene epoch, at a time when artiodactyls were far more diverse and bizarre than they are now. Through today known from their modern herbivorous representatives such as bovines, deer, and antelope, during the Paleocene and Eocene, the artiodacyls, as with most ungulates of that time, were stronger and far more predaceous, particularly when it came to one such clade of artiodactyls, the cetacodontamorphs. Only known today from hippos and another group of artiodactyls (one which will become relevant later), the cetacodantomorphs emerged out of Asia around 55 million years ago, at around the same time that artiodactyls themselves had made their debut. These animals included the first truly predatory artiodactyls, with many of them possessing large skulls with powerful jaws and sharp, predatory teeth. Among their ranks included animals as puny as Indohyus, a piscivorous artiodactyl the size of a cat, to as formidable as Andrewsarchus, a giant, bison-sized predator often touted as one of the largest predatory mammals to ever live. Given such a predatory disposition, it wouldn’t be long until this clade produced a lineage of truly diverse, truly successful predators, and by around 40 million years ago, that is exactly what they did, as it was at that time that the entelodonts themselves first emerged. From their Asian homeland, the entelodonts spread across the world, spreading through not only most of Eurasia but also colonizing North America as well, with genera such as Brachyhyops being found across both continents. Here, in this North American frontier, the entelodonts began to diversify further, turning into their most successful and formidable forms yet, and it was around the late Eocene and early Oligocene that Archaeotherium itself had entered the scene.
Just from a passing glance at Archaeotherium, it is clear how exactly it (as well as the other entelodonts) earned the nickname of “hell-pigs.” It was a bruiser for starters; its body bore a robust, pig-like physique, with prominent neural spines and their associated musculature forming a hump around the shoulder region, similar to the hump of a bison. With such a bulky physique came with it impressive size; the average A. mortoni had a head-body length of roughly 1.6-2.0 m (5.3-6.6 ft), a shoulder height of 1.2 m (4 ft) and a body mass of around 180 kg (396 lb) in weight (Boardman & Secord, 2013; Joeckel, 1990). At such sizes, an adult Archaeotherium the size of a large male black bear. However, they had the potential to get even bigger. While most Archaeotherium specimens were around the size described above, a select few specimens, labeled under the synonymous genus “Megachoerus,” are found to be much larger, with skulls getting up to 66% longer than average A. mortoni specimens (Foss, 2001; Joeckel, 1990). At such sizes and using isometric scaling, such massive Archaeotherium specimens would attained body lengths over 2.5 m (8.2 ft) and would have reached weighs well over 500 kg (1100 lb), or as big as a mature male polar bear. Indeed, at such sizes, it is already abundantly evident that Archaeotherium is a force to be recorded with.
However, there was more to these formidable animals than sheer size alone. Behind all that bulk was an astoundingly swift and graceful predator, especially in terms of locomotion. Indeed, the hoofed feet of Archaeotherium, along with other entelodonts, sported several adaptations that gave it incredible locomotive efficiency, essentially turning it into a speed demon of the badlands. Such adaptations include longer distal leg elements (e.g. the radius and tibia) than their proximal counterparts (e.g. the humerus and femur), fusion of the radius and ulna for increased running efficiency, the loss of the clavicle (collar-bone) to allow for greater leg length, the loss of the acromion to enhance leg movement along the fore-and-aft plane, the loss of digits to reduce the mass of the forelimb, the fusion of the ectocuneiform and the mesocuneiform wrist-bones, among many other such traits (Theodore, 1996) . Perhaps most significant of these adaptations is the evolution of the “double-pulley astragalus (ankle-bone),” a specialized modification of the ankle that, while restricting rotation and side-to-side movement at the ankle-joint, allows for greater rotation in the fore-and-aft direction, thus allowing for more more powerful propulsion from the limbs, faster extension and retraction of the limbs and overall greater locomotive efficiency (Foss, 2001). Of course, such a trait was not only found in entelodonts but in artiodactyls as a whole, likely being a response to predatory pressures from incumbent predatory clades arising at the same time as the artiodactyls (Foss, 2001). However, in the case of the entelodonts, such adaptations were not used for merely escaping predators. Rather, they were used to for another, much more lethal effect…
Such notions are further reinforced by the entelodonts most formidable aspect, none either than their fearsome jaws, and in this respect, Archaeotherium excelled. Both for its size and in general, the head of Archaeotherium was massive, measuring 40-50 cm (1.3-1.6 ft) in length among average A. mortoni specimens, to up to 78 cm (~2.6 ft) in the larger “Megachoerus” specimens (Joeckel, 1990). Such massive skulls were supported and supplemented by equally massive neck muscles and ligaments, which attached to massive neural spines on the anterior thoracic vertebrae akin to a bisons hump as well as to the sternum, allowing Archaeotherium to keep its head aloft despite the skulls massive size (Effinger, 1998). Of course, with such a massive skull, it should come as no surprise that such skulls housed exceptionally formidable jaws as well, and indeed, the bite of Archaeotherium was an especially deadly one. Its zygomatic arches (cheek-bones) and its temporal fossa were enlarged and expanded, indicative of massive temporalis muscles that afforded Archaeotherium astoundingly powerful bites (Joeckel, 1990). This is further augmented by Archaeotherium’s massive jugal flanges (bony projections of the cheek), which supported powerful masseter muscles which enhanced chewing and mastication, as well as an enlarged postorbital bar that reinforced the skull against torsional stresses (Foss, 2001). Last but not least, powerful jaws are supplemented by an enlarged gape, facilitated by a low coronoid process and enlarged posterior mandibular tubercles (bony projections originating from the lower jaw), which provided an insertion site for sternum-to-mandible jaw abduction muscles, allowing for a more forceful opening of the jaw (Foss, 2001). All together, such traits suggest a massive and incredibly fearsome bite, perhaps the most formidable of any animal in its environment.
Of course, none of such traits are especially indicative of a predatory lifestyle. Indeed, many modern non-predatory ungulates, like hippos, pigs and peccaries, also possess large, formidable skulls and jaws. However, in peeling back the layers, it is found there was more to the skull of Archaeotherium that lies in store. Indeed, when inspecting the animal closely, a unique mosaic of features is revealed; traits that make it out to be much more lethal than the average artiodactyl. On one hand, Archaeotherium possessed many traits similar to those of herbivores animals, as is expected of ungulates. For instance, its jaw musculature that allowed the lower jaw of Archaeotherium a full side-to-side chewing motion as in herbivores (whereas most carnivores can only move their lower jaw up and down)(Effinger, 1998). On the other hand, Archaeotherium wielded many other traits far more lethal in their morphology, less akin to a herbivore and far more akin to a bonafide predator. For instance, the aforementioned enlarged gape of Archaeotherium is a bizarre trait on a supposed herbivore, as such animals do not need large gapes to eat vegetation and thus have smaller, more restricted gapes. Conversely, many predatory lineages have comparatively large gapes, as larger gapes allow for the the jaws to grab on to more effectively larger objects, namely large prey animals (Joeckel, 1990).
Such a juxtaposition, however, is most evident when discussing the real killing instruments of Archaeotherium — the teeth. More so than any facet of this animal, the teeth of Archaeotherium are the real stars of the show, showing both how alike it was compared to its herbivores counterparts and more importantly, how it couldn’t be more different. For instance, the molars of Archaeotherium were quite similar to modern herbivores ungulates, in that they were robust, bunodont, and were designed for crushing and grinding, similar in form and function to modern ungulates like peccaries (Joeckel, 1990). However, while the molars give the impression that Archaeotherium was a herbivore, the other teeth tell a very different story. The incisors, for example, were enlarged, sharpened, and fully interlocked (as opposed to the flat-topped incisors seen in herbivores ungulates), creating an incisor array that was seemingly ill-suited for cropping vegetation and much more adept at for gripping, puncturing and cutting (Joeckel, 1990). Even more formidable were the canines. Like the modern pigs from which entelodonts derived their nicknames, the canines of Archaeotherium were sharp and enlarged to form prominent tusk-like teeth, but unlike pigs, they were rounded in cross-section (similar to modern carnivores like big cats, indicating more durable canines that can absorb and resist torsional forces, such as those from struggling prey) and were serrated to form a distinct cutting edge (Effinger, 1998; Joeckel, 1990; Ruff & Van Valkenburgh, 1987). These canines, along with the incisors, interlock to stabilize the jaws while biting and dismantling in a carnivore-like fashion. More strikingly, the canines also seem to act as “occlusal guides,” wherein the canines help align the movement and position of the rear teeth as they come together, allowing for a more efficient shearing action by the rear teeth. This function is seen most prevalently modern carnivorous mammals, and is evidenced by the canine tooth-wear, which is also analogous to modern predators like bears and canids (Joeckel, 1990). Indeed, going off such teeth alone, it is clear that Archaeotherium is far more predatory than expected of an ungulate. However, the real stars of the show, the teeth that truly betray the predatory nature of these ungulates, are the premolars. Perhaps the most carnivore-like teeth in the entelodont’s entire tooth row, the premolars of Archaeotherium, particularly the anterior premolars, are laterally compressed, somewhat conical in shape, and are weakly serrated to bear a cutting edge, giving them a somewhat carnivorous form and function of shearing and slicing (Effinger, 1998). Most strikingly of all, the premolars of Archaeotherium bear unique features similar not to modern herbivores, but to durophagous carnivores like hyenas, particularly apical wear patterns, highly thickened enamel, “zigzag-shaped” enamel prism layers (Hunter-Schraeger bands) on the premolars which is also seen in osteophagous animals like hyenas, and an interlocking premolar interface wherein linear objects (such as bones) inserted into jaws from the side would be pinned between the premolars and crushed (Foss, 2001). Taken together, these features do not suggest a diet of grass or vegetation like other ungulates. Rather, they suggest a far more violent diet, one including flesh as well as hard, durable foods, particularly bone. All in all, the evidence is clear. Archaeotherium and other entelodonts, unlike the rest of their artiodactyl kin, were not the passive herbivores as we envision ungulates today. Rather, they were willing, unrepentant meat-eaters that had a taste for flesh as well as foliage.
Of course, even with such lines of evidence, its hard to conclude that Archaeotherium was a true predator. After all, its wide gape and durophagous teeth could have just as easily been used for scavenging or even to eat tough plant matter such as seeds or nuts, as in peccaries and pigs, which themselves share many of the same adaptations as Archaeotherium, include the more carnivorous ones (e.g. the wide gape, using the canines as an occlusal guide, etc.). How exactly do we know that these things were veritable predators and not pretenders to the title. To this end, there is yet one last piece of evidence, one that puts on full display the predatory prowess of Archaeotheriumevidence of a kill itself. Found within oligocene-aged sediment in what is now Wyoming, a collection of various fossil remains was found, each belonging to the ancient sheep-sized camel Poebrotherium, with many of the skeletal remains being disarticulated and even missing whole hindlimbs or even entire rear halves of their body. Tellingly, many of the remains bear extensive bite marks and puncture wounds across their surface. Upon close examination, the spacing and size of the punctures leave only one culprit: Archaeotherium. Of course, such an event could still have been scavenging; the entelodonts were consuming the remains of already dead, decomposed camels, explaining the bite marks. What was far more telling, however, was where the bite marks were found. In addition bite marks being found on the torso and lumbar regions of the camels, various puncture wounds were found on the skull and neck, which were otherwise uneaten. Scavengers rarely feast on the head to begin with; there is very little worthwhile meat on it besides the brain, cheek-muscles and eyes, and even if they did feed on the skull and neck, they would still eat it wholesale, not merely bite it and then leave it otherwise untouched. Indeed, it was clear that this was no mere scavenging event. Rather than merely consuming these camels, Archaeotherium was actively preying upon and killing them, dispatching them via a crushing bite to the skull or neck before dismembering and even bisecting the hapless camels with their powerful jaws to preferentially feast on their hindquarters (likely by swallowing the hindquarters whole, as the pelvis of Poebrotherium was coincidentally the perfect width for Archaeotherium to devour whole), eventually discarding the leftovers in meat caches for later consumption (Sundell, 1999). With this finding, such a feat of brutality leaves no doubt in ones mind as to what the true nature of Archaeotherium was. This was no herbivore, nor was it a simple scavenger. This was an active, rapacious predator, the most powerful in its entire ecosystem.
Indeed, with such brutal evidence of predation frozen in time, combined with various dental, cranial, and post cranial adaptations of this formidable animal, it’s possible to paint a picture of how this formidable creature lived. Though an omnivore by trade, willing and able to feast on plant matter such as grass, roots and tubers, Archaeotherium was also a wanton predator that took just about any prey it wanted. Upon detecting its prey, it approached its vicim from ambush before launching itself at blazing speed. From there, its cursorial, hoofed legs, used by other ungulates for escape predation, were here employed to capture prey, carrying it at great speeds as it caught up to its quarry. Having closed the distance with its target, it was then that the entelodont brought its jaws to bear, grabbing hold of the victim with powerful jaws and gripping teeth to bring it to a screeching halt. If the victim is lucky, Archaeotherium will then kill it quickly with a crushing bite to the skull or neck, puncturing the brain or spinal cord and killing its target instantly. If not, the victim is eaten alive, torn apart while it’s still kicking, as modern boars will do today. In any case, incapacitated prey are subsequently dismantled, with the entelodont using its entire head and heavily-muscled necks to bite into and pull apart its victim in devastating “puncture-and pull’ bites (Foss, 2001). Prey would then finally be consumed starting at the hindquarters, with not even the bones of its prey being spared. Such brutality, though far from clean, drove home a singular truth: that during this time, ungulates were not just prey, that they were not the mere “predator-fodder” we know them as today. rather, they themselves were the predators themselves, dominating as superb hunters within their domain and even suppressing clades we know as predators today, least of all the carnivorans. Indeed, during this point in time, the age of the carnivorous ungulates had hit their stride, and more specifically, the age of entelodonts had begun.
Of course, more so than any other entelodont, Archaeotherium took to this new age with gusto. Archaeotherium lived from 35-28 million years ago during the late Eocene and early Oligocene in a locality known today as the White River Badlands, a fossil locality nestled along the Great Plains and Rocky Mountains. Though a chalky, barren landscape today, during the time of Archaeotherium, the White River Badlands was a swamp-like floodplain crisscrossed with rivers and interspersed with by a mosaic of forests concentrated around waterways, open woodlands and open plains. As with most ecosystems with such a lush disposition, this locale teemed with life, with ancient hornless rhinos, small horse-like hyracodonts and early camels roaming the open habitats while giant brontotheres, small early horses and strange, sheep-like ungulates called merycoidodonts (also known as “oreodonts”) dwelled within the dense forests. Within this locale, Archaeotherium stalked the open woodlands and riparian forests of its domain. Here, it acted as a dominant predator and scavenger across is territory, filling a niche similar to modern grizzly bears but far more predatory. Among its preferred food items would be plant matter such as roots, foliage and nuts, but also meat in the form of carrion or freshly caught prey. In this respect, smaller ungulates such as the fleet-footed camel Poebrotherium, a known prey item of Archaeotherium, would have made a for choice prey, as its small size would make it easy for Archaeotherium to dispatch with its powerful jaws, while the entelodonts swift legs gave it the speed necessary to keep pace with its agile prey.
However, the entelodont didn’t have such a feast all to itself. Just as the badlands teemed with herbivores, so too did it teem with rival predators. Among their ranks included fearsome predators such as Hyaenodon, a powerful, vaguely dog-like predator up to the size of wolves (as in H. horridus) or even lions (as in the Eocene-aged H. megaloides, which was replaced by H. horridus during the Oligocene). Armed with a massive head, fierce jaws and a set of knife-like teeth that could cut down even large prey in seconds, these were some of the most formidable predators on the landscape. There were also the nimravids, cat-like carnivorans that bore saber-teeth to kill large prey in seconds, and included the likes of the lynx-sized Dinictis, the leopard-sized Hoplophoneus and even the jaguar-sized Eusmilus. Furthermore, there were amphicyonids, better known as the bear-dogs. Though known from much larger forms later on in their existence, during the late Eocene and Oligocene, they were much smaller and acted as the “canid-analogues” of the ecosystem, filling a role similar to wolves or coyotes. Last but not least, there were the bathornithid birds, huge cariamiform birds related to modern seriemas but much larger, which filled a niche similar to modern seriemas or secretary birds, albeit on a much larger scale. Given such competition, it would seem that Archaeotherium would have its hands full. However, things are not as they appear. For starters, habitat differences would mitigate high amounts of competition, as both Hyaenodon and the various nimravids occupy more specialized ecological roles (being a plains-specialist and forest-specialist, respectively) than did Archaeotherium, providing a buffer to stave off competition: More importantly, however, none of the aforementioned predators were simply big enough to take Archaeotherium on. During the roughly 7 million years existence of Archaeotherium, the only carnivore that matched it in size was H. megaloides, and even that would have an only applied to average A. mortoni individuals, not to the much larger, bison-sized “Megachoerus” individuals. The next largest predator at that point would be the jaguars-sized Eusmilus (specifically E. adelos) which would have only been a bit more than half the size of even an average A. mortoni. Besides that, virtually every other predator on the landscape was simply outclassed by the much larger entelodont in terms of size and brute strength. As such, within its domain, Archaeotherium had total, unquestioned authority, dominating the other predators in the landscape and likely stealing their kills as well. In fact, just about the only threat Archaeotherium had was other Archaeotherium, as fossil bite marks suggest that this animal regularly and fraglantly engaged in intraspecific combat, usually through face-biting and possibly even jaw-wrestling (Effinger, 1998; Tanke & Currie, 1998). Nevertheless, it was clear that Archaeotherium was the undisputed king of the badlands; in a landscape of hyaenodonts and carnivorans galore, it was a hoofed ungulate that reigned supreme.
However, such a reign would not last. As the Eocene transitioned into the Eocene, the planet underwent an abrupt cooling and drying phase known as Eocene-Oligocene Transition or more simply the Grande Coupure. This change in climate would eliminate the sprawling wetlands and river systems that Archaeotherium had been depending on, gradually replacing it with drier and more open habitats. To its credit, Archaeotherium did manage to hang on, persisting well after the Grand-Coupure had taken place, but in the end the damage had been done; Archaeotherium was a dead-man-walking. Eventually, by around 28 million years ago, Archaeotherium would go extinct, perishing due to this change in global climate (Gillham, 2019). Entelodonts as a whole would persist into the Miocene, producing some of their largest forms ever known in the form of the bison-sized Daeodon (which was itself even more carnivorous than Archaeotherium), however they too would meet the same fate as their earlier cousins. By around 15-20 million years ago, entelodonts as a whole would go extinct. However, while the entelodonts may have perished, this was not the end of carnivorous ungulates as a whole. Recall that the cetacodontamorphs, the lineage of artiodactyls that produced the entelodonts, left behind two living descendants. The first among them were the hippos, themselves fairly frequent herbivores. The second of such lineage, however, was a different story. Emerging out of South Asia, this lineage of piscivorous cetacodontamorphs, in a an attempt to further specialize for the fish-hunting lifestyle, began to delve further and further into the water, becoming more and more aquatic and the millennia passed by. At a certain point, these carnivorous artiodactlys had become something completely unrecognizable from their original hoofed forms. Their skin became hairless and their bodies became streamlined for life in water. Their hoofed limbs grew into giant flippers for steering in the water and their previously tiny tails became massive and sported giant tail flukes for aquatic propulsion. Their noses even moved to the tip of their head, becoming a blowhole that would be signature to this clade as a whole. Indeed, this clade was none other than the modern whales, themselves derived, carnivorous ungulates that had specialized for a life in the water, and in doing so, became the some of the most dominant aquatic predators across the globe for millions of years. Indeed, though long gone, the legacy of the entelodonts and of predatory ungulates as a whole, a legacy Archaeotherium itself had helped foster, lives on in these paragons of predatory prowess, showing that the ungulates are more than just the mere “prey” that they are often made out to be. Moreover, given the success that carnivorous ungulates had enjoyed in the past and given how modern omnivorous ungulates like boar dabble in predation themselves, perhaps, in the distant future, this planet may see the rise of carnivorous ungulates once again, following in the footsteps left behind by Archaeotherium and the other predatory ungulates all those millions of years ago.
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2024.05.14 17:28 Slyme-wizard We need to revisit the megalopians from usum

This might get a bit ranty and I promise I don’t normally seethe like this but this genuinely gets my goat so please be patient with me.
Isn’t anyone else at least a bit mad that pokemon straight up introduced an alien species of trainer in usum, possibly one of the biggest plot twists in the franchise, and then didn’t elaborate on them past their debut game? Like, AN ENTIRE ALIEN SPECIES OF HUMANOID TRAINERS THAT JUST GOT SWEPT TO THE SIDE IN THE NEXT GEN. With the implication that they have a whole pokedex thanks to poipole and necrozma, AND that they can come and go from earth at their leisure how on earth was nothing done with this?!
What if after gen 7, they just started appearing as town npcs as visitors or immigrants to our planet? What if you could even choose to play as a megalopian for a game? Heck, gen 7 concluded the Looker storyline, what if the recon squad became the next cross gen plotline? Other fantasy games have alternate species like elves and dwarves. What if they became the pokemon equivalent of elves?
I don’t like when I genuinely start seething over videogames but this is SUCH A WASTED DESIGN. THIS COULD HAVE BEEN SUCH AN IMPORTANT TWIST IN THE STORYLINE THAT SPANNED ACROSS GENS AND THEY JUST SAID “Welp! Off to Britain!” AND NOBODY SEEMS TO CARE! I GUESS NOBODY REALLY PLAYED USUM AND THAT MAKES SENSE BUT SURELY SOME OF Y’ALL MUST WONDER WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM?
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