Canopy glider swing plan

Orange county bassist looking for up & coming jazz guitarists to form swing trio!

2024.05.29 05:19 i_like_the_swing Orange county bassist looking for up & coming jazz guitarists to form swing trio!

Hello! 17 y.o. upright bass player looking to form a swing trio, seeking rhythm guitar and lead and/or steel guitar player. Must be versed in theory and be able to solo over jazz changes, moderate ability to read music is required (chord charts for rhythm player and myself, lead sheets for lead player).
I will provide all my own equipment and have a decent guitar amp and a left-handed Gretsch which I am fine with other players using. All other equipment must be provided by you, archtop and Manouche guitars preferred but any semi-hollow or acoustic is acceptable. I plan for us to rehearse for a week or two, and then (with luck) I will start finding us restaurant/coffeehouse gigs.Young folks preferred, but anyone is welcome to email or text me if you are interested. My contact info is listed.
A little about me! My name's Matt, I'm new in orange country coming from NorCal where I studied music at gavilan college under dahveed behroozi. I'm now attending Saddleback College as a music major. I dabbled in bandleading while up north, but now that I'm taking music much more seriously I'm excited to form a professional level group. I've had a love/hate relationship with guitar my whole life, but when I discovered bass at age 14 I was hooked. My gateway to jazz came through attending Aki Kumar's blues jam, where I first met jazz players and where I began playing upright. Fun fact, I am left-handed but learned to play bass backwards (Hendrix style) so my uprights are always strung right-handed. Also, I may be young but I promise I can hold my own. Here's some of my playing, including videos from jams and my college audition:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0ywO99WD6g
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj-33Max6Ok
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JM3s6I4KRBE
[knightsword823@gmail.com](mailto:knightsword823@gmail.com)
4087096743
submitted by i_like_the_swing to pedalsteel [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 05:19 i_like_the_swing Orange county bassist looking for up & coming jazz guitarists to form swing trio!

Hello! 17 y.o. upright bass player looking to form a swing trio, seeking rhythm guitar and lead and/or steel guitar player. Must be versed in theory and be able to solo over jazz changes, moderate ability to read music is required (chord charts for rhythm player and myself, lead sheets for lead player).
I will provide all my own equipment and have a decent guitar amp and a left-handed Gretsch which I am fine with other players using. All other equipment must be provided by you, archtop and Manouche guitars preferred but any semi-hollow or acoustic is acceptable. I plan for us to rehearse for a week or two, and then (with luck) I will start finding us restaurant/coffeehouse gigs.Young folks preferred, but anyone is welcome to email or text me if you are interested. My contact info is listed.
A little about me! My name's Matt, I'm new in orange country coming from NorCal where I studied music at gavilan college under dahveed behroozi. I'm now attending Saddleback College as a music major. I dabbled in bandleading while up north, but now that I'm taking music much more seriously I'm excited to form a professional level group. I've had a love/hate relationship with guitar my whole life, but when I discovered bass at age 14 I was hooked. My gateway to jazz came through attending Aki Kumar's blues jam, where I first met jazz players and where I began playing upright. Fun fact, I am left-handed but learned to play bass backwards (Hendrix style) so my uprights are always strung right-handed. Also, I may be young but I promise I can hold my own. Here's some of my playing, including videos from jams and my college audition:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0ywO99WD6g
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj-33Max6Ok
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JM3s6I4KRBE
[knightsword823@gmail.com](mailto:knightsword823@gmail.com)
4087096743
submitted by i_like_the_swing to steelguitar [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 05:15 i_like_the_swing Orange county bassist looking for up & coming jazz guitarists to form swing trio!

Hello! 17 y.o. upright bass player looking to form a swing trio, seeking rhythm guitar and lead and/or steel guitar player. Must be versed in theory and be able to solo over jazz changes, moderate ability to read music is required (chord charts for rhythm player and myself, lead sheets for lead player).
I will provide all my own equipment and have a decent guitar amp and a left-handed Gretsch which I am fine with other players using. All other equipment must be provided by you, archtop and Manouche guitars preferred but any semi-hollow or acoustic is acceptable. I plan for us to rehearse for a week or two, and then (with luck) I will start finding us restaurant/coffeehouse gigs.Young folks preferred, but anyone is welcome to email or text me if you are interested. My contact info is listed.
A little about me! My name's Matt, I'm new in orange country coming from NorCal where I studied music at gavilan college under dahveed behroozi. I'm now attending Saddleback College as a music major. I dabbled in bandleading while up north, but now that I'm taking music much more seriously I'm excited to form a professional level group. I've had a love/hate relationship with guitar my whole life, but when I discovered bass at age 14 I was hooked. My gateway to jazz came through attending Aki Kumar's blues jam, where I first met jazz players and where I began playing upright. Fun fact, I am left-handed but learned to play bass backwards (Hendrix style) so my uprights are always strung right-handed. Also, I may be young but I promise I can hold my own. Here's some of my playing, including videos from jams and my college audition:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0ywO99WD6g
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj-33Max6Ok
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JM3s6I4KRBE
[knightsword823@gmail.com](mailto:knightsword823@gmail.com)
4087096743
submitted by i_like_the_swing to jazzguitar [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 04:33 foldoregomi How to Tickle a Striped Beast

start with whiskey breath, a firm grip on fate's joke, don't bother with maps, they're for men whose hearts have roads to follow
tigers, you see, are born from chaos, like alley cats with stripes, they laugh at your plans, your crumpled blueprints
eat your last buttered toast, wear yesterday's shirt, open the door wide, let the streetwise wind ruffle your paper-thin hope
wait until the moon looks tired, slouching on the horizon like a drunk on a barstool, that's when the tiger's tail swings through shadows
whistle a blues tune, the kind that makes angels yawn, grab hold with the confidence of a man who's forgotten how many debts he's paid
when the beast turns, and it will, show it your toothless grin, hum something soft, you've got no bones worth breaking
life is a circus, friend, and you're just the clown, so laugh like the madmen you are, for a tiger’s tail is just another punchline, waiting, to be caught
submitted by foldoregomi to grittytruth [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 04:07 apehasreturned Booking the AEW World Title in 2024 - Part Two: The Master

Booking the AEW World Title in 2024 - Part Two: The Master
Part One Here!
We pick up following Blood and Guts, where AEW Champion Swerve Strickland led his team to victory over the Elite. It’s been an insanely brutal and bloody reign for Swerve so far, and with enemies and allies alike climbing the ladder towards a shot at the gold, he’s starting to grow slightly paranoid. With a second trip to Wembley approaching, the talk of the town is who’s going to win the Owen and go for AEW’s top title at Wembley - if Swerve even makes it there, the fans knowing that his wars of attrition are leaving him worse for wear with each passing defence.
Road to All In London
The lineup for the Owen is being narrowed down coming out of Blood and Guts, with MJF, Jay White, Bryan Danielson, Will Ospreay, Darby Allin, Hangman Page, Konosuke Takeshita and Katsuyori Shibata all in the running. With blockbuster match after blockbuster match being fought to determine the finalists for Calgary, we eventually come down to two: MJF and Will Ospreay, set on a collision course for the ages.
Swerve’s troubles don’t end there, though - after leaving the Mogul Embassy, his old allies smell blood in the water, and the EVPs are all too happy to make Strickland’s life more miserable by announcing a title match with Brian Cage for the Dynamite opener in Alberta’s largest city.
AEW World Title: Swerve Strickland (c) vs. Brian Cage
Cage gets a good showing in here, using his remarkable athleticism to nearly put the champion away early, but once Swerve gets rolling, it’s clear that there are levels to this game. The Machine goes for a Liger Bomb, Swerve reversing into a hurricanrana to leave him prone for a HOUSE CALL, FOLLOWED BY A SWERVE STOMP! ONE! TWO! THREE!
Swerve Strickland def. Brian Cage (11:51) to retain the AEW World Title
After the bout, Swerve’s handed his title, and he keeps it hugged tight to his chest as he grabs a microphone. He says everyone’s been working their asses off around him to try and take this from him, but the champion promises he’s not afraid. He welcomes the challenge, because there ain’t nobody like Swerve Strickland in SWERVE’S HOUSE. He says he’s looking forward to seeing who comes out on top in the main event, and heads off backstage to watch it with Prince Nana.
Owen Hart Foundation Tournament Final: MJF vs. Will Ospreay
This gets a lot of time, with no limit on a tournament final. Let them cook. MJF is in worse shape than Ospreay, having been flung straight into a tournament after a series of surgeries left him held together with duct tape, but Ospreay’s in a worse headspace, his typical unending confidence hampered by a few narrow wins en route to the final. However, it’s two spectacular in-ring talents, and they go ham in pursuit of victory, MJF wanting to headline Wembley for the second straight year and Ospreay looking to win the AEW World Title in a stadium in his home country. The back-and-forth gives way to MJF getting control, working the arm extensively to warm Ospreay up for the Salt of the Earth. However, an appearance by Adam Cole gives an unknowing Ospreay the opportunity to turn the tables with a handstand reversal to a Heatseeker, following it with a Hidden Blade for two. Ospreay considers working on the shoulder, MJF crying out in agony with each blow to the surgically repaired joint, and eventually, Will has him in perfect position for the Storm Driver 93. He knows MJF’s neck and shoulder are in such a state that this would be an automatic victory, but he hesitates just long enough for MJF to roll him up… ONE! TWO! THRE-KICKOUT! MJF grabs the arm to go for a Salt of the Earth, Ospreay rolling him back into a pin of his own, followed by another HIDDEN BLADE! STORMBREAKER! ONE! TWO! THREE! OSPREAY’S GOING TO WEMBLEY!
Will Ospreay def. MJF (31:02) to win the Owen Hart Foundation Tournament
Out comes Swerve, standing toe to toe with his challenger as confetti falls around them. Ospreay leans on his trophy, grabbing a microphone as it becomes rapidly apparent his confidence is back. He says that All In is on the horizon, and last time AEW was at Wembley Stadium, he won as an outsider… yet Swerve lost. Now, Ospreay’s in AEW full time, mowing through all the competition, and now it’s time that the Kingpin get a shot at the crown. Swerve chuckles before his smile turns into a sneer, growling under his breath that Ospreay will have to kill him to take the AEW Title away - and he’s seen that despite being called the Assassin, he can’t do that.
The next week on Dynamite, Ospreay and Swerve are scheduled for a face to face promo in the ring, the title match official for All In. It’s electric as they stand opposite one another in the squared circle, trading some quick verbal barbs that they both brush off before getting down to brass tacks, Swerve holding the microphone and beginning to speak.
“Will, you’re impressive, man. You can be as athletic as the day is long, but it’s not ‘heavy is the body that wears the crown,’ it’s ‘heavy is the head,’ and there ain’t nobody like me. This is a mental game, and you don’t have what it takes there. You blew yourself up and broke your own neck when you went for the IWGP Title. You were betrayed by the Don Callis Family and somehow didn’t see it coming. You were beaten on your home turf by your sworn enemy because you got in your own head. You had the win of a lifetime against Bryan, and then you felt so bad about it that you neutered your arsenal. You don’t have what it takes… in your head or in your guts. There’s only one head fit for this crown, and it’s mine.”
Ospreay scoffs, trying to keep his cool, but he doesn’t wait long before grabbing the microphone out of Swerve’s hand to an “oooh,” from the crowd.
“Ain’t nobody like you, bruv? How dare you talk down to me. How dare you condescend me, belittle me, you arrogant bastard? I came here to AEW and started taking heads, just like I did in Japan, and there were people there just like you. People who said ‘ah, he’s not got it in him to be the next big gaijin. He’ll never be the champion,’ and now there’s you, saying I don’t have what it takes because I don’t have the mentality. YOU don’t have the mentality to do what I do. To fly from the UK to here twice a week, to raise a family, to spend a whole career an ocean away from home, to wear the crown on your head that says you’re the greatest wrestler on Earth. Nobody’s done that but ME, and when that championship’s fastened around my waist, mate, it’s going to prove what everyone already knows - that Will Ospreay’s on another level, and Swerve Strickland… he’s punching up.”
Now it’s Strickland’s turn to try and keep a lid on his anger, stepping toe to toe with his challenger and holding the title inches from his face. He tells Ospreay to listen close, before saying that the years of hard work Ospreay put in everywhere but home aren’t gonna be enough to help. He’s gonna be in front of his family, he’s gonna be in front of his friends, he’s gonna be in front of his people, and he’s going to let them all down, because he’s an impressive athlete, but he’s not the guy. Finally, Ospreay snaps, throwing a SHORT HEADBUTT, AND NOW BOTH MEN ARE THROWING FISTS! IT’S UTTER BEDLAM! The bell starts ringing to try and encourage them to break it up, but neither man is stepping down now, furiously exchanging blows as security rushes to the ring to divide them. Swerve grabs the championship, hoisting it high as he spits venom at Ospreay, the challenger spewing a string of words that probably won’t make air. They keep trying to break free and take another swing, commentary asking what on Earth they’ll do when they’re finally let loose at Wembley Stadium, pride and the promotion’s top prize on the line.
Swerve Strickland (c) vs. Will Ospreay
All In London
Wembley Stadium is packed to the gills as All In goes on the air, and they’re fit to burst as the first theme they hear is that of the Commonwealth Kingpin. Justin Roberts announces that our opening match is for the AEW World Title, and Ospreay receives plenty of fanfare and fireworks as he makes his way to the ring, looking more motivated than ever. He’s clearly jonesing in the ring, eagerly awaiting Swerve’s arrival as his compatriots cheer him on… and then Chaka Khan hits. Strickland may be in enemy territory, but the crowd can't help but sing. Oozing charisma as he enters the squared circle, the AEW Champion seems more than ready to put the Assassin down, the electric crowd letting both men soak in the moment as the bell rings. HERE WE GO! SWERVE VS. OSPREAY, LIVE FROM WEMBLEY, AEW TITLE ON THE LINE!
AEW World Title: Swerve Strickland (c) vs. Will Ospreay
From the bell, Strickland and Ospreay are exchanging words as they gravitate towards one another, Ospreay calling for a lockup. They settle into a collar and elbow, Ospreay using his size to his advantage to try and muscle Swerve into the ropes, but Strickland reversing the momentum to cinch in a side headlock. Will still drives Swerve into the ropes, eventually breaking free and whipping Strickland across the ring, the champion building up speed as he ducks a clothesline attempt from the challenger and nails a Tijeras to send Ospreay flying. Ospreay’s quickly back up to his feet, Swerve attempting a slip behind for a German Suplex, but Will countering with a headlock takeover, kipping up and throwing a superkick that’s narrowly avoided by Swerve, who drops flat to his back, picking Ospreay’s leg and floating into a handstand to bring Ospreay down with a headscissors. Will kips up once more to break free, Swerve scrambling to stand up before OSPREAY THROWS A HIDDEN BLADE, SWERVE DIVING OUT OF THE WAY AT THE LAST MOMENT BEFORE CATASTROPHE! Strickland quickly pivots as Will looks to get to his feet, attempting a HOUSE CALL, BUT NOW IT’S OSPREAY’S TURN TO DODGE AS BOTH MEN END UP STANDING!
Gritting his teeth, Swerve goes for another lockup with Ospreay, this time quickly kicking him in the gut for a snapmare, cinching in a chinlock to talk some smack. The Aerial Assassin lands a few elbows to the body as he strives to get back to his feet, finally breaking free before being grounded again by a Tijeras from Swerve. Strickland grabs hold of his challenger again, Ospreay furiously backpedaling into the corner to avoid a lifting inverted DDT, only for Swerve to send him through the ropes for a HANGING NECKBREAKER! Ospreay rolls out to the apron instinctively, Swerve kicking out one of his legs and stepping through the middle rope to SLINGSHOT INTO A DDT ON THE APRON, BUT OSPREAY HANDSPRINGS STRAIGHT TO HIS FEET ON THE FLOOR! Strickland gets cocky, thinking he landed the shot, and turns around to see Ospreay charging at his legs. Swerve leaps up, still on the apron as Will overshoots, the champion pivoting for an APRON PUMP KICK, OSPREAY DUCKING IT AND LEAPING BACK ONTO THE APRON! SWERVE TURNS AROUND ONCE AGAIN… AND OSPREAY FLIES IN WITH AN APRON OSCUTTER! Tumbling to the floor, Swerve tries to get to his senses and figure out how he came out on the rough end of the sequence on the apron, but Ospreay gives him no time to think with a ROBINSON SPECIAL OFF THE APRON, STRAIGHT THROUGH THE BACK OF HIS HEAD! He props Swerve against the barricade, chopping him across the chest before scrambling to the top rope for a SKY TWISTER PRESS TO THE OUTSIDE - ONLY FOR SWERVE TO AVOID IT, NAILING OSPREAY WITH A GERMAN SUPLEX ONTO THE FLOOR!
With Ospreay stunned, Strickland slides back in to break the count, measuring his man before effortlessly delivering a FOSBURY FLOP OUT TO RINGSIDE, WIPING OUT THE CHALLENGER! Turning the tables on Ospreay, now it’s Swerve’s turn to lay in some chops against the barricade, only for Will to dump him over the barrier and into the crowd. He follows it up with a hook kick over the guardrail to stagger the champion, running the length of ringside and LAUNCHING HIMSELF STRAIGHT INTO A PUMP KICK FROM THE CHAMPION! Swerve hops up onto the barricade, grabbing hold of Ospreay in a front facelock before MUSCLING HIM UP AND OVER WITH A BRAINBUSTER, OFF OF THE BARRICADE AND RIGHT DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR AT RINGSIDE! He rushes to roll Will back between the ropes, hooking both legs… ONE! TWO! TH-NOOO! Swerve jumps to the middle rope to deliver a diving European Uppercut to the back of the head before Ospreay can quite get to his feet, following it up with a DISCUS LARIAT! The assault on the head is relentless, Swerve looking for a DDT before being driven into the ropes, Will trying to earn a momentary reprieve. Instead, Strickland pummels him with Muay Thai knees to the body, heaving him up for a LIGER BOMB! ONE! TWO! THRE-KICKOUT ONCE MORE! Swerve lets out a frustrated roar, deadlift Ospreay up to attempt another powerbomb, but Ospreay manages to drop to the apron for a gamengiri, followed by a PIP PIP CHEERIO! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Desperate to keep momentum on his side, Ospreay quickly delivers a rolling elbow, following it up with a SNAP DRAGON SUPLEX, BUT SWERVE RIGHT BACK UP TO HIS FEET, NAILING A GERMAN! He swivels around, only to see Ospreay landed on his feet, BOTH MEN THROWING HIGH KICKS BEFORE COLLAPSING TO THE CANVAS!
Wembley rallies behind Ospreay as both men struggle to get to their feet, barely stirring before the challenger begins pounding the mat, leaning back onto his hands for a kip-up before Swerve simply spins to punt him in the face and bring him back to the mat. Strickland rises to his feet, looking for the House Call, but OSPREAY HAS NONE OF IT, CATCHING THE LEG FOR A STYLES CLASH! ONE! TWO! THR-NOO! Following through, Ospreay attempts a Hidden Blade, Swerve ducking it before rushing towards his opponent and INTO A SPANISH FLY FOR A NEARFALL! Ospreay grabs the back of Swerve’s head, paying him back for the focused assault with a flurry of Kawada Kicks to the face, followed by an attempt at a delayed vertical suplex, Strickland floating over and landing on his feet. The champion runs the ropes, Ospreay stopping him in his tracks with a dropsault and an enziguri, continuously building momentum with a STUNDOG MILLIONAIRE TO FINALLY DROP SWERVE TO HIS BACK! Unleashing a war cry, Ospreay has a gleam in his eyes as he looks towards the top turnbuckle, dragging himself through the ropes to the apron before clambering up to the high rent district, turning his back to Swerve for another SKY TWISTER PRESS, SWERVE ONCE AGAIN ROLLING IN TOWARDS THE TURNBUCKLES… BUT OSPREAY ROLLS STRAIGHT THROUGH TO HIS FEET! Strickland flashes his grill to the camera in the corner with a smile, Ospreay looming behind him before BLASTING STRAIGHT THROUGH HIM WITH A HIDDEN BLADE! ONE! TWO! THRE-SWERVE POWERS OUT!
It’s been just over fifteen minutes of insanity as Ospreay smells blood in the water, knowing if he connects with a Stormbreaker, he can wrap this up. However, that certainty would only be cemented if he were to nail a Storm Driver 93, but he refuses to go to such lengths, hooking the arms… BUT SWERVE COUNTERS WITH A BACK BODY DROP, ONLY FOR OSPREAY TO LAND ON HIS FEET! HE BREAKS INTO A SPRINT, REBOUNDING OFF THE ROPES FOR A SPRINGBOARD OSCUTTER - STRAIGHT INTO A HOUSE CALL! SWERVE INTERCEPTED HIM! ONE! TWO! THRE-NOOOO! Strickland can’t believe it, but he’s got Ospreay dead to rights, spinning him around into position for a Tombstone. Strickland looks to the hard cam, a smug sneer on his face as OSPREAY REVERSES WITH A SEGA MEGA DRIVER, SPIKING HIM DOWN ON HIS HEAD! ONE! TWO! THRE-NOOOO! Ospreay is in disbelief, even a tribute to Mad Kurt not being enough to put Swerve down, but he’s staying on the ball as he hooks Swerve’s arms to go for a STORMBREAKER, ONLY FOR SWERVE TO FLOAT OVER FOR A LIFTING INVERTED DDT! Will’s rally wasn’t enough to get him out of trouble, and STRICKLAND FOLLOWS IT UP WITH A SECOND HOUSE CALL! SWERVE IMMEDIATELY ON THE ATTACK ONCE MORE, POSITIONING OSPREAY FOR A JML DRIVER… BUT WILL CLEARS HIS HEAD, COUNTERING WITH A POISON RANA! SWERVE UP TO HIS KNEES, BUT OSPREAY FOLLOWS IT WITH A SPRINGBOARD OSCUTTER! HIDDEN BLADE TO THE BASE OF THE SKULL, AND NOW… STORMBREAKER! ONE! TWO! THREE! WILL OSPREAY IS THE AEW WORLD CHAMPION!
Will Ospreay def. Swerve Strickland (20:10) to win the AEW World Title
Later in the night, Kazuchika Okada defeats Kenny Omega to win their fifth encounter, establishing himself firmly as the Number One Contender to the AEW World Title, giving the new champion only two weeks to prepare to face off with one of his greatest foes - a foe he’s only managed to beat cleanly once, while falling to the Rainmaker eight times.
Road to All Out
Ospreay gets to celebrate on Dynamite, cutting a promo saying he’s geared up to finally put this to bed. He says he’s glad he’s starting his title reign like this, because he’s certain he can beat Okada, and he’ll not have to worry about the spectre looming over him anymore. Every time there was a title on the line, every time the stakes were high, he failed against the Rainmaker - but the stakes were high at Wembley, and he won. He proved Swerve Strickland wrong, and now it’s time to prove Kazuchika Okada wrong. Out steps the Rainmaker, taking the EVP Elevator up onto the stage to say that Ospreay has already proven him wrong; he thought, years ago, that Ospreay was a talent worthy of being in Okada’s stable of CHAOS, and Ospreay proved him wrong when he betrayed his leader, only for Okada to beat the brakes off him at the Tokyo Dome. Okada says that Ospreay should be all too familiar with Okada being the top champion, the Ace, and he plans to finally bring that vision to AEW by restoring the world to its natural order and beating the Aerial Assassin for a ninth time. The Rainmaker’s ego is peaking, having avenged his loss to Kenny Omega just a few days prior, and he says that Omega’s a taller mountain to climb than Ospreay. However, he says he’s sure there’ll be room in the Elite’s ranks for Ospreay, should he come to his senses and want to fall back in line behind the Rainmaker. Ospreay declares that at All Out, he’ll prove to Okada and the world that he’s eclipsed the onetime Ace, while Okada insists that Omega was just the beginning - in just a few days, it’ll be time for the Rainmaker Era to start back up.
All Out
With All In having just occurred recently, All Out is a package deal with the Wembley show, ensuring a huge audience for what’s certain to be an all-timer main event between the Rainmaker and the Assassin. Both men want to walk out with the gold more than anything in the world, making an already personal rivalry all the more exciting as the coin drops for the last match of the night. Okada appears in a new robe, debuted two weeks prior at Wembley, and as he rises from the Elite Elevator, he’s looking more daunting than ever. There’s only one feud the man had ever lost, and he’d just avenged it against Kenny Omega - this is the most dangerous he’s ever been, and as Will Ospreay makes his way to the ring, Okada doesn’t even turn to face him. The champion is furious, but the challenger sees him as a formality standing between him and another epic World Title reign, refusing to even acknowledge him as they’re both introduced by Justin Roberts. They head to their respective corners, and THE BELL RINGS! IT’S OKADA AND OSPREAY, WORLD TITLE ON THE LINE!
AEW World Title: Will Ospreay (c) vs. Kazuchika Okada
Both men are hesitant to open themselves up to a big counter in the early goings, especially given how well they know each other, so they try and psych each other out a different way - by waiting. The crowd greets them with a deafening reception as they slowly circle the centre of the ring, eventually meeting with a lockup that sees Okada immediately put his height to good use, bearing down on Ospreay with an attempt at a test of strength. He pushes Ospreay down to the mat, even getting his shoulders down for a moment, but the champion bridges up off the canvas. Okada jumps up and drives his legs down into Ospreay’s body, but Ospreay maintains the bridge with both men’s weight, Okada getting back up and shooting for a lateral press that gets a one count. Transitioning into a side headlock, Okada talks some smack, the Young Bucks supporting him at ringside while taunting the champion. However, Ospreay’s put on plenty of muscle mass over the years, making it all the easier for him to slowly make his way to his feet, twisting free and securing a side headlock of his own on the Rainmaker. Okada sends him into the ropes, Ospreay clinging to the top as Okada instinctively goes for a flapjack. Momentarily confused, Okada gives Will the opening to run in for a dropsault, attempting to follow it with an enziguri that’s ducked, Ospreay springing up… and into a flapjack, the inevitability of the Rainmaker’s plans coming to fruition putting the champion in a bad spot early.
Continuing with his somewhat lackadaisical pace, Okada keeps treating Ospreay like he’s not that big of a deal, shoving him into the corner for a double pat on the chest, followed by a stiff forearm across the jaw as the referee steps in. Ospreay lunges at him, Okada grabbing the arm for an Irish Whip into the opposite corner, rushing the champion with a big boot, but Ospreay SLINGSHOTS RIGHT OVER HIM, LANDING ON HIS FEET BEHIND THE RAINMAKER FOR A KICK TO THE HAMSTRING! Ospreay hones in with a swift roundhouse to Okada’s other leg, trying to take out his base, but Okada shrugs it off by catching the leg on a third kick attempt before driving his shoulder straight into the bridge of Ospreay’s nose, following it with a DDT that makes it look like Ospreay just died. The champion goes full scorpion, folding over himself like PAC as Okada grabs hold of the wrist to attempt an early Rainmaker. He gets Ospreay up to his feet, a smirk on his face as he winds him up, but Ospreay cuts through his grip with a sharp elbow before rolling Okada up with a victory roll reversal, straight into a DOUBLE STOMP TO THE GUT! Okada rolls right out of the ring and into the waiting arms of the Elite, Ospreay lining up to try and take him out with a dive before being halted by the Bucks, who leap into the way with their hands up. Ospreay shouts at them to move before going for it anyway, launching himself with a PESCADO, STRAIGHT INTO A BOOT TO THE STOMACH BY THE RAINMAKER! THE BUCKS GAVE HIM TIME TO RECOVER!
Taking advantage immediately, Okada sends Ospreay crashing into the barricade, Ospreay crying out before Okada sends him into the aisle on the crowd side of the barrier. He measures his man as he heads to the opposite end of ringside, the Bucks gassing him up as he takes a running start for a CROSSBODY OVER THE GUARDRAIL, LANDING ON HIS FEET AFTER TAKING OUT THE AERIAL ASSASSIN! Okada dusts himself off, his signature look of superiority clearer than ever as he drags Ospreay back to ringside, laying in a few boots to the body before spitefully laying in another DDT, this time on the floor. He breaks the count before continuing to pummel Ospreay at ringside, the Bucks taunting the champion with each consecutive shot he takes. Okada works over the champion’s neck, digging a knee into the back of it as he postures with his stablemates before securing a waistlock for a GERMAN SUPLEX ON THE FLOOR, BUT OSPREAY FLIPS OUT OF IT! He flings himself at Okada with a Hidden Blade attempt from behind, the seemingly omniscient Okada ducking at just the right moment before throwing a boot - but Ospreay’s just too quick, slipping under it and LAYING IN A HOOK KICK, FOLLOWED BY A BACK SUPLEX ON THE OUTSIDE TO THE RAINMAKER! Ospreay backs the Bucks away, threatening to put their faces through the back of their heads before sliding back into the ring and EFFORTLESSLY SOARING THROUGH THE AIR WITH A SKY TWISTER PRESS TO THE FLOOR! He sends Okada back between the ropes, following him with a PIP PIP CHEERIO, BUT OKADA CUTS HIM OFF AGAIN BY KICKING OUT THE ROPES! Ospreay is left hung up on the top, Okada turning him over for a DRAPING NECKBREAKER OFF THE TOP! ONE! TWO! THR-KICKOUT!
It’s been virtually all Okada thus far, and he continues to methodically wear Ospreay down with a targeted offensive on the neck of the AEW World Champion. Whenever Ospreay tries to get some momentum going, Okada’s able to reverse it, the style Ospreay honed in New Japan having paid dividends against plenty of other AEW talents, but not the man who defined the style for over a decade. Soon enough, Okada looks for the Rainmaker again, and Ospreay finds his opening by reversing it into a SPANISH FLY! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Ospreay looks like a bullet fired from a gun the second Okada’s constant pressure is taken off his shoulders, the champion bolting out to the apron to connect with a PIP PIP CHEERIO, NAILING IT BEFORE OKADA HAS TIME TO REALIZE WHAT HIT HIM! Okada tries to evacuate out the other side of the ring, but Ospreay’s having none of it, grabbing him by the trunks and pulling him back in for a SNAP DRAGON SUPLEX! ONE! TWO! TH-NOOO! Okada sits back up just in time for Ospreay to strike him with a standing round kick to the ear, filling the Rainmaker’s head with cobwebs before flattening him to the canvas with a superkick, finishing the sequence with a RUNNING SHOOTING STAR PRESS! ONE! TWO! THR-ANOTHER KICKOUT, BUT OSPREAY’S FINALLY GOTTEN CONTROL AWAY FROM THE CHALLENGER! With the Chicago crowd rallying behind him, Ospreay struggles to get to his feet, the twenty straight minutes of punishment taking a heavy toll on the champion. However, he’s certainly up before the stunned Okada, with the challenger still attempting to get his wits about him when Ospreay charges with a ROBINSON SPECIAL, STRAIGHT TO THE BASE OF THE SKULL! Okada gets to his feet on instinct alone, the Assassin positioning himself behind his prey and circling him before running the ropes for an OSCUTTER! ONE! TWO! THR-NOOO!
Ospreay unleashes some Kawada Kicks on the challenger, letting out his aggression before lighting him up with a flurry of chops, Okada attempting to stand on business and throw some of his own, only for Ospreay to obliterate him with a superkick. Okada is left leaning on the ropes, Ospreay beckoning him towards the centre of the ring before attempting a SHOTGUN DROPKICK, SENDING HIM STRAIGHT THROUGH TO THE APRON! With Okada prone, Ospreay looks for the OSCUTTER ON THE APRON, BUT OKADA CATCHES HIM IN A STRAITJACKET! He attempts a Straitjacket German Suplex on the apron, Ospreay avoiding catastrophe with a back headbutt to the bridge of the nose, followed by a stiff back elbow to send Okada tumbling to the floor. Ospreay vaults over the ropes to break the count, finding himself in the perfect spot for an old favourite as Okada gets to his feet at the base of the ramp. Measuring his man, Ospreay leaps into motion with a SASUKE SPECIAL, BUT OKADA CATCHES HIM! WHAT STRENGTH FROM THE RAINMAKER, AND NOW… OH MY GOD, A TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER ON THE FLOOR! Okada’s confidence is peaking, the Tombstone on the floor having been a hallmark of so many of his defining victories and none of his defeats. Knowing this, he rolls Ospreay straight back into the ring, the work on the neck having paid dividends as he immediately secures wrist control, hoisting Ospreay up into position for a RAIIIINMAKERRRRRR! HE GOT ALL OF IT! ONE! TWO! THRE-OSPREAY SOMEHOW LIFTS THE SHOULDER UP!
Frustrated, Okada hurls Ospreay’s lifeless corpse into the corner and simply starts stomping a mudhole in his face, grinding his boot into the champion’s features before the referee pulls him away. Okada bickers with the ref as the Bucks sneak up on each side of Ospreay, Will instinctively grabbing a hold of Matthew, who scrambles backwards. However, Will stays latched onto him, forming a fist around Matthew’s tie and being pulled through the ropes… ONLY FOR NICHOLAS TO SUPERKICK OSPREAY STRAIGHT INTO THE RING POST, SPARING HIS OLDER BROTHER! Blood begins to spill from the side of Ospreay’s head, dripping onto the ring post and ring skirt as it becomes clear he hit his head damn hard against the steel. Okada pushes past the referee and continues to beat Ospreay down, relishing each moment of offence as he sends the champion packing to the outside with a petulant boot to the side of the head. He rolls out to the floor, the Bucks handing him a bottle of water to cool himself off with after such a brutal match, and now Okada gets to admire the Elite’s handiwork as crimson teardrops start dotting ringside, a bloody mask obscuring Ospreay’s face. Okada keeps beating ass, commentary noting that this is now the longest we’ve seen these two duke it out for, nearly 40 minutes having elapsed. Excalibur notes Ospreay seems harder than ever to put down, but Okada’s showing the same sort of dominance he has in the past, with Schiavone sounding worried that it might just be a matter of time.
Looking to finally put an end to things, Okada starts raining closed fists on Ospreay’s head wound, hurling him into the timekeeper’s table. Eventually, he lays Ospreay out on it, clambering up with him before flipping off the camera and calling for another Tombstone. He flips Ospreay around… but Ospreay drops to the floor behind him, sweeping out Okada’s legs before nailing a CHEEKY NANDO’S AGAINST THE GUARDRAIL, LEAVING OKADA SPLAYED OUT ON THE TABLE! Ospreay scrambles towards the ring post, blood pouring down onto his chest as he makes the long climb up the turnbuckles for a FROG SPLASH THROUGH THE TABLE, AND THROUGH OKADA! The count was broken by him hitting the top rope, sparing both men the risk of being counted out as they lie their motionless. Chicago wills them to their feet, Ospreay sending Okada back into the ring before using the surge of energy and momentum to get the challenger up for a STORMBREAKER! HE GOT HIM! OSPREAY’S GONNA DO IT! Ospreay leaps atop Okada, grabbing the leg and leaning back into a deep cover, putting all his weight across the challenger’s shoulders… ONE! TWO! THRE-OKADA’S FOOT IS HOVERING OVER THE BOTTOM ROPE, OSPREAY TOO ENTHUSIASTIC WITH HIS PIN! The Bucks look like they’re about to have panic attacks as an exasperated, mentally battered Ospreay fights back tears, a fraction of an inch away from redemption. However, he knows he’s got control, so all he has to do is take this one home.
Both men are in deep waters now, and with both being renowned for their gas tanks, it’s clearly come down to a war of attrition, both men knowing that it’ll all come down to landing the one big move that’ll keep one of them down. They’ve both sustained plenty of damage, but as Ospreay staggers over to the downed Okada, he gets this look in his eyes - the look of a man who has the chance to do the funniest thing ever against a man he resents oh so much. Ospreay grabs Okada’s wrist, the crowd letting out an “oooh” as it becomes clear he’s going for his own parody of the Rainmaker, traditionally a ripcord Spanish Fly. Okada is on dream street as Ospreay positions him, pulling the wrist to whip Okada around… but the Rainmaker is still wise to Ospreay’s moveset, keeping an arm near his side to stop Ospreay from latching on for a Spanish Fly. However, he wasn’t wise enough, Ospreay digging into Kenny Omega’s toolkit with a RAIN TRIGGER, BLINDSIDING OKADA WITH A HUGE HIT HE DIDN’T SEE COMING! Okada falls into the ropes, trying to keep himself upright by keeping a firm grip on the top rope, only to be uprooted by a POISON RANA, OSPREAY SPIKING THE CHALLENGER RIGHT ON HIS HEAD! He stumbles to the corner, Okada looking to find his footing as he gets to his knees… AND EATS A HIDDEN BLADE STRAIGHT TO THE FACE, OSPREAY MOWING STRAIGHT THROUGH HIS CHALLENGER! ONE! TWO! THRE-OKADA GETS THE SHOULDER UP, AND THE GRUELLING BOUT CONTINUES!
Justin Roberts is starting to sound pretty nervous as he makes the 50 minute time call, informing both competitors that there’s only ten minutes left in their longest bout against one another to date. Ospreay crawls towards the ropes, driven by pure determination as he peels off his elbow pad, winding up for the Hidden Blade of a lifetime as Okada slowly starts to stir. Both men have taken each other’s biggest shots, but Okada’s in the champion’s sights now, Ospreay waiting until he’s in the perfect position before CHARGING AT FULL TILT INTO A DROPKICK FROM OKADA! Somehow, Okada’s still got pristine form this late into the match, but there’s no time to linger on his magnificence as he rises to his feet, dazed and confused, in desperate need of a dagger against Ospreay. He leans over to hook Ospreay’s wrist, calling for a second Rainmaker, and now he ripcords him in, ONLY FOR OSPREAY TO BLAST HIM WITH A HIDDEN BLADE TO THE FACE ONCE AGAIN ON THE REBOUND! Okada somehow keeps hold of Ospreay’s wrist, tumbling into the ropes and dragging the champion with him, gritting his teeth and letting out a primal roar before CLOBBERING OSPREAY WITH A SHORT ARM LARIAT, BRINGING THEM BOTH DOWN TO THE MAT! Ospreay gets the slightly better landing tactically, turned completely inside out and managing to drape an arm over… ONE! TWO! THRE-NOO! Okada’s kickout flips Ospreay onto his back, the Rainmaker now making an exhausted pinfall attempt… ONE! TWO! THRE-KICKOUT! WHAT’S IT GOING TO TAKE FOR ONE OF THESE MEN TO STAY DOWN?
Puddles of Ospreay’s blood stain the canvas as both men lie there, the unimaginable exhaustion washing over both of them as they fight to be the first man to a vertical base. Commentary discusses the importance of securing the upper hand at this moment, and somehow, it’s Ospreay who’s up first, although only by a matter of seconds. Okada decks him with a forearm, the Rainmaker doubled over trying to catch his breath, but Ospreay clocks him with one of his own, followed by a ROLLING ELBOW TO DROP OKADA TO A KNEE! Ospreay ponders a moment, considering going for a Storm Driver 93, and as Justin Roberts says there’s five minutes remaining, he goes for it. He hooks Okada’s arms in a butterfly, muscling him up off his feet… but Okada drops down to his knees, Ospreay too exhausted to lift 250 pounds into position if that 250 pounds is still fighting back. The champion knees Okada in the face before going for it again, but this time, Okada shifts his weight back and SWINGS OSPREAY OVER HIS OWN SHOULDER FOR AN AIR RAID CRASH NECKBREAKER! Ospreay goes down like a sack of potatoes, clutching the back of his neck in pure agony, unable to function properly as Okada scrapes him off the canvas and positions him for an EMPHATIC COBRA FLOWSION, DRIVING OSPREAY’S NECK INTO THE MAT ONCE AGAIN WITH A RESOUNDING THUD! The challenger rises to his feet behind his foe… AND SPREADS HIS ARMS, THE CAMERA ZOOMING OUT TO ENCOMPASS THE CHICAGO CROWD! OKADA HITS THE RAINMAKER POSE, AND HE’S READY TO STUNT ON OSPREAY ONCE MORE!
Ospreay’s in the perfect position for the Rainmaker, only a few minutes left on the clock, but both men’s movements have become lethargic and feeble after all they’ve been through. Matthew and Nicholas pound the mat to encourage Okada as he painstakingly leans over to latch on to Ospreay’s wrist, the champion fighting as best he can with a few back elbows, all of which miss the mark. Okada drives a forearm into the back of Ospreay’s neck, dropping him to his knees again before finally heaving him up for the Rainmaker, winding up… AND WHIZZING RIGHT BY OSPREAY, WHO COLLAPSES FROM EXHAUSTION! Okada falls in a heap behind him, but he’s still in better shape than Ospreay with moments remaining. With the last of his adrenaline, Okada scrambles up and picks Ospreay up once more, positioning him for a Rainmaker… BUT OSPREAY DUCKS, THIS TIME BREAKING INTO A SPRINT TO GET OUT OF THE WRISTLOCK! HE BOUNCES OFF THE ROPES, OKADA TOO TIRED TO SPIN AROUND IN TIME, AND NOW OSPREAY NAILS AN UNPROTECTED HIDDEN BLADE TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! He’s got to roll him over, the seconds counting down as Ospreay simply digs his shoulder into the Rainmaker’s arm to slowly turn him onto his back, struggling to hook the leg… ONE! TWO! THRE-KICKOUT! OKADA GOT THE SHOULDER UP! Ospreay can’t believe it, fighting to get his feet under him, frantically attempting to hook Okada’s arms to get him into position for a Storm… ding ding ding.
Will Ospreay and Kazuchika Okada fought to a draw (60:00), for Ospreay to retain the AEW World Title
Road to WrestleDream
With Ospreay having been unable to put away the Rainmaker within an hour, it’s pretty clear that a rematch has to be on the horizon, but the question is where. Both Grand Slam and WrestleDream are coming up, and on Dynamite, Okada lays down the gauntlet for the PPV, saying that he intends to win the AEW Title at a show paying tribute to one of his idols in Antonio Inoki. However, Ospreay’s not off the hook until October just yet - Grand Slam still stands in the way, and a battle between two of his fantastic previous opponents is set to determine his challenger for the event. Those opponents? Swerve Strickland and MJF. In the end, MJF manages to pull out the win, securing a title challenge right next door to his home at Grand Slam. Ospreay walks in insecure, just as he did in the Owen Finals, but this time with good reason - his first title defence was hardly a successful one, and he might not even have the chance to make up for it if he doesn’t manage to put away the longest-reigning AEW World Champion ever, in their home state. The pressure’s on for the Assassin, and with challengers hounding him, all he can do is try and build momentum with wins week over week. He doesn’t bother trying to match MJF on the stick, the next challenger eviscerating the champion with promo after promo until the go-home show, where a fed up Ospreay simply snipes him with a Hidden Blade to cut him off. Grabbing the microphone, Will promises to prove the title belongs around his waist, telling MJF that he wants the same Max who dominated the AEW main event scene for over a year.
(Cont'd in Comments)
submitted by apehasreturned to FantasyBookingElite [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 03:52 IamPastry Reyna is a failure of game design

Reyna is a failure of game design
Reyna is poorly designed in Valorant and doesn't teach players how to play the game properly, leading to a high amount of Reyna mains in mid-high elo with the game sense of a bronze player. In this essay i will... etc etc
The only lesson to be learned from your mistakes playing Reyna is that you didn't get the kill
  1. Reyna does not teach players to position well
Imagine this scenario where, on round start, a defender runs it down B long on bind looking for a pick and runs into the entire enemy team.
https://preview.redd.it/itb7rjtij93d1.png?width=256&format=png&auto=webp&s=014c7a78036772c02a4c5c31d116d240483ee359
Your average scenario here with almost any agent is that you run out into a 1v5 and die. You'd probably think to yourself "wow all 5 of them were there, that was a dumb spot to stand. I should play further back so I can escape or get a teammate to double peek with me and use util to secure."
Now let's swap that out for Reyna.
https://preview.redd.it/mj45oq5xj93d1.png?width=196&format=png&auto=webp&s=eebb66eab754fd9aa19c11a82baa085ad7b83709
Reyna runs out, sees 5 enemies and dies, but instead the lesson learned is
"My aim was bad, I would've been fine if I got a kill."
Reyna will then try the same strategy again, and when she gets a kill she is rewarded and her behaviour is reinforced by dismissing and retreating back to site.
2. Reyna does not teach players how to effectively use utility for anyone other than herself
https://preview.redd.it/dyvll0njl93d1.png?width=292&format=png&auto=webp&s=eb8cb060f386c66c2cf894934bb6c329d58722f6
Reyna's only situational piece of utility is a near-sight blind. She is the only character in the entire game that has a castable blind with NO downsides. Every single other ability in the game that blinds affects your teammates. It's also one of 2 blinds in the entire game that goes through walls. If you throw a skye flash directly out into the middle of a fight or throw your omen blind from the backline you could blind your whole team and lose the fight.
Picture this scenario on Ascent A-site. Attacker team is doing a full push against 3 defenders on A.
https://preview.redd.it/0hmt91xsm93d1.png?width=375&format=png&auto=webp&s=39208c9ae239c788a6b611aeba6acc96c8302fa1
If omen misuses his blind here, he blinds the Jett playing dice, but also blinds his Deadlock and Clove. This puts the attackers at a massive disadvantage. Omen's team loses the push and Omen gets flamed for team flashing. Omen, who wants to avoid this in the future, learns from his mistake. He now knows that he needs to stand off to the side, or be aware of where his teammates are standing when he throws his blind.
Now we swap omen out for Reyna
https://preview.redd.it/0o1eiqwin93d1.png?width=271&format=png&auto=webp&s=434d197e7ce86b471bdef99ea5e1ee5b2c590fe5
Reyna can throw her blind anywhere, in any situation. It blinds anyone who can see it from any range. Reyna's team pushes the site, and if Reyna and her team dies her only lesson to be learned again is
"My aim was bad, I would've been fine if I got a kill."
3. Reyna does not teach players how to effectively use ultimate abilities
Every single ultimate ability in this game except for Reyna's has a set of use case scenarios, and a set of non-use case scenarios. For example, you wouldn't phoenix ult in the middle of site, you'd get punished. You wouldn't use your kj ult in mid, you'd get punished. Reyna's ultimate is the only ultimate in the entire game that can be used effectively on round start every time it's available. There is no downside to using the Reyna ult, you cannot disadvantage or kill your teammates with the Reyna ult, you cannot put yourself at a disadvantage with the Reyna ult. You cannot waste the Reyna ult by any measure other than inactivity. The only lesson to be learned from dying and losing the Reyna ult is, again:
"My aim was bad, I would've been fine if I got a kill."
4. Reyna does not teach players about trade opportunities
Reyna's dismiss and heal mechanics effectively allow her to cancel or heavily mitigate any trade opportunities presented to her enemies.
https://preview.redd.it/l54e3lr4q93d1.png?width=298&format=png&auto=webp&s=05edc1773df62f96f4a8e5f20c7658ab50469eea
In this scenario on Split's mail/heaven area, lets pretend it's pistol round and everyone here has a ghost and no armor. Fade has swung into the Harbor. Fade gets the jump on Harbor and although Harbor manages to heavily tag the Fade, she secures the kill on him. As soon as this happens Gekko, who is nearby is able to quickly swing into position before the Fade is ready and secure the kill, trading out his teammate and securing the round. If Gekko is faster and both players are able to fight Fade together, she is very likely to still lose, even if she kills the Harbor. Fade has learned a valuable lesson in that if she is taking a fight, she needs to be prepared for someone else to swing her and take measures, such as backing off the angle and re-positioning, using dog to stop the trade, or playing a safer angle to begin with. If Fade takes damage in a fight, she's less likely to win the next fight and will likely be traded out. Now lets swap Fade out for Reyna:
https://preview.redd.it/atvodso5r93d1.png?width=301&format=png&auto=webp&s=50dafcbcfccb20ba05780b14cccfd2cec73ce700
Again, lets pretend it's pistol round and all 3 players have a ghost. Reyna pushes and while Harbor manages to heavily tag her, Reyna secures the kill. Reyna immediately activates her heal and is suddenly swung by Gekko. She now has more health than she had when she was fighting Harbor, and is able to secure the kill on Gekko as well. Reyna does not have to worry about being tagged and easily traded out on low-hp, and therefore does not need to have a plan to disengage. If Gekko is able to swing before Harbor is killed, as long as Reyna gets the kill on Harbor, she is able to dismiss and disengage from the fight and cancel the trade for free. If Reyna loses this fight, the only lesson to be learned is, again:
"My aim was bad, I would've been fine if I got a kill."
So where does this leave players that only play Reyna? They've learned in almost every situation that their aim was poor and that they just needed to secure the kill to win. Every win condition in Valorant is getting the kill. There are no nuances or complex mechanics to interact with in this game as long as you get the kill. You do not need to perfect your utility usage and site takes as long as you get the kill. You don't need to worry about being traded as long as you get the kill.
What are the consequences of this?
We've seen from the above examples that Reyna is far too easy and far too forgiving to players, and while other players using different agents are climbing the ranks learning a wide variety of skills such as effective utility usage, strategy, positioning, teamwork and other meta-knowledge, Reyna players are learning that their only mistake was not getting the kill.
Thank you for listening to my TED talk
tl;dr reyna as an agent does not have to interact with almost any of the complex systems and strategies of Valorant and people that only play Reyna are not given equal learning opportunities to their peers, only developing their aim leaving their game sense in the gutter.
submitted by IamPastry to VALORANT [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 03:46 Powerful-Somewhere27 Failed surgical abortion please some advice

Pretty much a vent. I 19F found out i was pregnant from Boyfriend 20M quite quickly. I did one test (early) a day or two before my period was predicted, i had unsafe sex and took a plan B but obviously was already ovulating and to be fair i was being a bit young and dumb because afterwards we also had unsafe sex twice. The test was negative and i was relieved. Waiting with full hope for my period to arrive, it didn’t and a couple days after being late i took another one. I had crazy “im gonna have my period cramps” for a week now and i knew something was wrong normally when i get them its ALWAYS within two days. Suprise it’s positive.
100 emotions but also 0, i didnt take it all in. We called for an abortion appointment, she told us we were too early and needed to wait a week, we did. I was so scared, a million thoughts because it was conflicting it was the best choice but not one i wished for and I felt so much i was so overwhelmed.
Saturday, we go there fully prepared. Full on lies to my parents (they are christian and didnt know) planned the days after free. They told me it was too small (fetus) and needed to go back in a week. My boyfriend was going on a long planned holiday with his parents the next week (they also dont know). Now we scheduled for 2 weeks later. He said it’s even better because they are sure it will be big enough to remove succesfully… “successfully” but we’ll get into it.
7 weeks pregnant, the second try. I had AWFUL pregnancy symptoms, every single one nausea i couldn’t eat anything with the stress of puking and my family finding out. Horrible cramps every single day. Full alone and no one to talk to (only BF), physically and mentally suffering. Anyways we go back. Everything went super quick. Upstairs > room with other woman > i was the first one.
I was deadly scared and also have PTSD (sexually related but not by bf) which did NOT help also the Gyn was a male. They asked if i had any questions, i told them i know everything but am very scared. The gyn said to me “of course you don’t have any experience with it” which was wtf?! Very weird in my opinion. First they poke the needle 4 times before getting it right, great. I woke up hazy with the worst feeling in my life or so i thought i felt so extremely violated which probably is also partly my ptsd.
I felt relief because the symptoms like nausea disappeared. I was optimistic “the worst is the procedure” afterwards at least it’s “done”. Mentally punishing myself with shame, guilt, fantasies of what could’ve been. I know i needed to do this and it was the best choice but i was absolutely not happy about it, my mom was a teen mom so it was also a layer of understanding her pain and not hold grudges so much because she actually went through so much.
I immediately took a copper IUD. Two future apportionments. After 3 weeks checking if the abortion was successful and 6 weeks after (in total) if the IUD was placed correctly.
In these 3 weeks i was mentally at a low; no adults who i can go to, keeping it a secret, punishing myself and i need to pass all my exams otherwise i get kicked of the study and have literally no other life plan (uni psychology), the extreme guilt, mood swings well you get it. The SurgicalA was the most traumatic experience in my life the feelings of violation to my body were worse than when i got rxped. I was not a victim, this was my doing.
Here the story: physically i bled 1.5 weeks with heavy cramps they told my this was normal also considering the IUD makes it “worse”. It stopped bleeding although the cramps, mood swings everything was baaad. I got an yeast infection because of the antibiotics. Got something for that and i thought that must be it the cramps are just my IBS. 4 days later the bleeding came back in flows of none to heavy bleeding with heaaavy crampings. Clots and jelly like structured blood came out i knew something was wrong but told myself its the copper IUD.
3 weeks later check up (today) The did a pregancy test, i got called in the room and the first two words where “THE TEST WAS INSTANTLY POSITIVE” my heart SANK. “Could it be you’re pregnant again? Idk what you have been doing you should know” They did a vaginal ultrasound scan she told me it’s and incomplete surgical abortion. There’s leftover tissue she told my i was going to get heavy cramps and blood. If it’s not gone the second appointment/check up i need to do the D&C. I’m going to do the check ups at another clinic, they are not professional or helping the experience in any way. Literally died at the first words of POSITIVE PREGNANCY.
This is the worst i have ever felt. Something inside me died, the most traumatic experience in my life needs to be done again? AGAIN? I feel hopeless and extremely lonely. I am scared to death at even the possibility of going through this again. They told me maybe it’ll go away by itself but it’s been 3 weeks and the chances are really low. The cramps and bleeding are extreme, i am exhausted and a hollow shell of flesh. The school pressure is big, these 3 exams predict my future. I HAVE TO PASS. I have 0 energy and constantly need to fake how i feel with others. My BF is extremely supportive but i also feel like i’m bringing him down in this deep hole i’m sinking in. It’s been 11 weeks now of daily pain, scared he’ll get tired of me. I’m tired of me! I’m suffering physically and mentally and see no light at the end of the tunnel.
Now the reason i wrote this was to vent, but also i see none failed/incomplete surgical abortions only medical. Anyone with any advice/similar experiences? How did you and can i move forward.
submitted by Powerful-Somewhere27 to abortion [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 03:39 _zyk_ Saturday 0ctober 17th 2020 Profile on Instagram *artjackson69* Around This Time I was Getting Filthy Random Pictures Unsolicited 0f Men's Gentals & Sending Scat Porn ( Ppl Having Sex w/Shxt All Over ) & Abuse Like No Other.

Saturday 0ctober 17th 2020 Profile on Instagram *artjackson69* Around This Time I was Getting Filthy Random Pictures Unsolicited 0f Men's Gentals & Sending Scat Porn ( Ppl Having Sex w/Shxt All Over ) & Abuse Like No Other.
Apparently according to aaron phyphers this hadn't been enough abuse because he was planning on betraying my trust the whole time & couldn't wait to do it ( creaming your pants type of junkie high type evil ) ... knocking on wood to 2021 ...that still wasn't enough abuse as aaron decided that no empathy should be given, even after being pursued and shot at, junkie forgot all about that after burying his cxck in 50 - 150 (?) ( I mean, is anybody keeping count anymore ) or so strangers anal cavities by forcing them, pressing buttons & using drugs & alcohol. Not. Enough. Abuse. No! Aaron decided it would be a wonderful idea to do an interview for everybody to see stating that I SHOULD BE ASHAMED & GO TO CONFESSION FOR BEING A PEDOPHILE .. & that I was not pure or perfect in his eyes & needed to PAY. After all was revealed layer after layer of lies, unraveling the twisted ribbon of 🪢 bullshxt this still wasn't enough to wake these mentæ selfish pathological lying scapegoating asshxles as when I was told about what my parents had done by taking advantage of my vulnerable age & raping me he then decided to join his swinging partner on social media again & shower her with affection & say that it's good practice.
submitted by _zyk_ to Sick_Scapegoating [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 03:20 UnmovableFeast Pitchforks

It happened. He didn't deny that. Not like he was a suspect or anything—not yet—but he never denied it to himself. At the same time, this all happened over a decade ago—twelve years to be exact.
He didn't think of it every day; in fact, sometimes an entire month would go by where it barely crossed his mind.
In a way, that whole experience—he thought of all the abductions and murders as a singular event—now felt as if it belonged to somebody else.
It was a time in his life when he was confused, mixed-up, searching; a dark time, you know, like a phase. Who didn't have one of those in their past?
Plus, he was married now. His wife, Dee, obviously didn't know about it and he felt no obligation to tell her. Did he ask about her former lovers?
Sometimes there are things in the past and you just let them be. Whether it was Dee losing her virginity to the quarterback of the football team in the backseat at a drive-in or him using multiple black garbage bags and masking tape on that thing he didn't have time to bury in rural Tennessee, everyone has things they would rather forget about. Sometimes you just leave things where they lie.
So that's what Ned Doyle did.
Until that Sunday morning, November 6th, 1988.
He was a having a glass of Dee's pulpy homemade orange juice, waiting for his coffee to percolate, when he opened his heavy weekend edition of the New York Times (probably Ned's greatest extravagance—he liked its heft; and how the Arts & Leisure section made him feel culturally superior to his Ohio townsfolk, “the Philistines of Findlay,” he called them) when he saw the article buried in the back.
The country was two days from heading to the polls for the General Election—Bush v. Dukakis—so most everything else that week had been relegated to the back.
He read the article twice before he could even begin to make sense of it. It seemed to be a story about something called "DNA fingerprinting" and a 27-year-old baker in Great Britain named Colin Pitchfork who had confessed to raping and murdering two 15-year-old girls, in separate incidents a few years apart, after a new scientific process had been used to extract information from semen which he, Colin Pitchfork, had left at the crime scenes (likely inside the victims) some five years earlier.
Now if they could do all that after five years, why not ten years—or maybe even… twelve?
"Interesting story here," he said to Dee. It wasn't uncommon for Ned to read a news story twice—once for himself and a second time aloud to Dee while she brewed his coffee and burnt her toast. But this was his third reading and Ned acted as if it were his first.
"What do you make of that?" he asked. It somehow got worse each time he read it. After the third time, he felt as if he had been sucker punched in the stomach.
"Science Fiction is what it sounds like," Dee said matter-of-factly, pouring Ned his coffee in a mug that bore the Marathon Oil insignia. Findlay, Ohio was Marathon’s headquarters although there had been rumors circulating about a move to Texas.
"And unconstitutional," he said. "Cops running a dragnet like that, taking blood samples from 5,000 townspeople. Thankfully, that would never pass the muster here."
"They did catch the killer so maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea," she said, buttering her burnt toast. "Otherwise, who knows? They could have convicted the wrong man.”
Ned had already gotten lucky once – astonishingly so. Griffin Gerald Jones, the famed “I-75 Corridor Child Killer,” had claimed responsibility for all but one of Ned’s victims before dying in Florida’s electric chair.
"You can't have police in this country running around, sticking everyone with needles, drawing blood for some sort of science experiment,” he said. “Nevermind the Constitution, what about AIDS?”
“What about it?” she asked.
“There's been hundreds, thousands of cases now where people have been infected by giving blood,” he said. “That's a medical fact. Get accused of a crime and AIDS too?"
"It doesn't sound like any of the townspeople there in England got AIDS, darling. Unless there's more to the story, besides what you read to me."
He watched her spread orange marmalade over her burnt toast and take a bite. She had a dead tooth and he saw it every time she opened her mouth. He loved Dee but had never been sexually attracted to her. Not in the way he had been attracted to others.
"It really is just a matter of time before that stuff makes it over here," she said with her mouth full. "To this side of the pond, as they say." She took a sip of his orange juice. "Isn’t that how it always works? Things start over there in England, or in California, and then phht, before you know it, it makes its way to Findlay."
He held his hand over his stomach. She saw him wince.
"Was it my orange juice again? Was it still pulpy? I squeezed it by hand and even strained it twice this time."
"It’s not your fault,” he said. “I think it’s me. Orange juice is getting too… acidic for me." He looked at the clock on the coffee maker. "I'm going to be late."
He turned the page.
He played the 8 o'clock Mass by rote as he had many a bleary-eyed Sunday morning. It was pure muscle memory at this point. He made a few mistakes here and there, missed a key or two, but it was nothing the organ's sustain pedal couldn't mask – not that anyone would complain (not at the 8 o'clock anyway).
On Sundays Ned had four Masses: the 8, the 9:30, the big one at 11, and the 12:30 for the dilettantes who couldn't get their acts together for the 11.
He turned the page.
Today he was using Glory and Praise, AKA "the blue hymnal" for songs he knew by heart.
Turning the pages of his sheet music, reading each note, he was able to keep his mind off it.
Ned abhorred cliches (especially those involving sports) but he made an exception for “Out of sight, out of mind.” For Ned, that wasn’t a cliché; it was a way of life. He was a man who preferred to be heard, not seen, which made St. Bartholomew (or St. Bart’s) the perfect home for him.
In a spectacular architectural oversight, the church's pipe organ was situated so the organist's back was to the altar and pews. The organist of course needs to see what's going on in the Mass to read certain non-verbal cues but the arrangement suited Ned just fine. The congregation was comprised of many young families who had many young children—boys in particular—and it wasn't so much that he couldn't control himself because he was now firmly in control of all that; it was more that he didn't need any reminders of that time when he couldn't.
Especially during church.
So to see the altar behind him, Ned had installed an actual rearview mirror, the type you'd find on an old Buick, and he used a special type of putty to affix it to the mantle of the pipe organ. Having been the church organist at St. Bart's for nine years, he seldom needed it anymore—he could do it in his sleep—but it came in handy today as he found his attention drifting and he nearly missed the oratory refrain at the 9:30 Mass.
His real problems didn't start until the 35-minute break between the 8 and 9:30.
He was reorganizing his sheet music after the first wave of churchgoers had cleared out, when he began thinking about Colin Pitchfork again. The article said he was a baker in England somewhere—did it say he baked cakes or was that Ned's invention?
Even though no picture was provided in the Times article, Ned spent the balance of the 9:30 service picturing the 27- year-old ex-rapist/murderer working in his small English bakery, quietly going about his business, baking his cakes, when the police (Bobbies?) came.
Was he expecting them?
He played the offertory hymn, "On Eagle's Wings," as the ushers began taking up the collections and a family of parishioners he’d never seen before brought the gifts up.
And what was going through Pitchfork's head when he saw the Bobbies there? When they began asking him about rapes and murders that happened almost five years ago? The article said that he had initially given investigators someone else's blood when “the enquiry” began. Had he somehow caught wind of this “DNA Fingerprinting?”
There was a new usher, Ned noticed, in his makeshift rearview mirror.
The Times article said that one of Pitchfork's co-workers at the bakery had taken the blood test masquerading as Pitchfork because Pitchfork had told the co-worker that ‘he could not give blood under his own name because he had already given blood while pretending to be a friend of his who had wanted to avoid being harassed by police because of a youthful conviction for burglary.’ This story was later overheard by a woman in a pub who immediately went to the police.
Ned realized he had missed the homily twice now. Not that it mattered. Heard one you've heard them all and Ned was pretty sure there would be no surprises. Plus, he'd have two more chances to catch it. He knew he would have to really focus for the 11 o'clock. That was always the main event. He was going to play "I Will Raise Him Up," a complex hymn, which required his full attention. He would scratch that one now if he hadn’t read that article and if the Sunday programs hadn't already been printed. People liked that one –it was a real barn burner, as they say—and if he skipped it, there might be questions.
The last thing Ned needed right now were fucking questions.
Who was this new usher, by the way?

By the start of the 11 o'clock Mass, Ned wondered whether anyone would even show for the 12:30, seeing that it was already standing room only. The 11 was always the most popular Mass, but today felt different; it was packed like Christmas Eve. What was the occasion? Was the predominantly conservative town that afraid of Dukakis winning the presidency? Ohio was a swing state after all and that image of the little Greek man in the tank was unnerving, sure, but was it enough to warrant this sort of turnout for the 11 AM Mass at St. Bart's in Findlay?
Or was something else going on?
Ned didn’t believe they had come to hear his rendition of "I Will Raise Him Up."
Or could there be another reason? Maybe they had all read the same Times article. Maybe there had long been simmering suspicion of Ned in the community and maybe the article finally prompted the townspeople to join together and take arms. With pitchforks.
On March 31, 1892, the only known lynching in the history of Hancock County occurred when a mob of 1,000 men, many "respectable citizens," broke into the county jail in Findlay. They lynched Mr. Lytle, a man who had killed his wife and two daughters with a hatchet the day before. The townsfolk hanged the man twice (first from the bridge, then a telegraph pole) and then, in a classic case of overkill, shot his body over a dozen times. The authorities had intended to transfer the prisoner out of town at 1 o'clock in secret, where a train was scheduled to transport him to Lima, but someone talked.
Ned had only confessed what he had done to one person – a priest eight years prior. The priest was set to retire as he was dying of pancreatic cancer and visiting from a nearby parish. For years Ned had heard this priest was “of the old school” – i.e., your word to God’s ear, and it went no further. He was as safe as they come. Still, even then, Ned used the screened side of the Confessional, lowered his voice a full octave, and spoke of what he had done obliquely and in generalities. They were mortal sins. His penance severe: to repent and refrain from repeating the act again. The priest was now long dead. There’s no way he could have tracked Ned down and told anyone. Was there?
The last one was named Derek. That was the only one left unsolved.
He would play "I Will Raise Him Up" during Communion. Because of the crowds, he knew the communion lines would be longer and would thus require him to stretch the already difficult song a few minutes longer. If he was going to supply the masses, he was going to need a bigger yield. In a way it was like baking a cake, wasn't it?
He met Derek at a Dairy Queen in Paducah, Kentucky. It was Labor Day 1976. It must have been 100 degrees out, but it felt even hotter with the humidity. It was a real scorcher.
Derek had a bicycle with an American flag banana seat. It was the summer of Bicentennial Fever. The Dairy Queen was in an area known as Noble Park. It had a tin canopy that kept cars cool in the shade.
Ned missed a note as he turned the page. He stepped on the sustain pedal and his mistake sounded deliberate and beautiful even.
It was early evening; fireflies were out in full force and Ned was blotto. He had been drinking beer—cans of Schlitz—all day at the picnic of a friend (technically, the friend of an acquaintance so basically a stranger). A born introvert who still lived alone (this was pre-Dee), Ned was very drunk and primed for small talk. You must also remember this was a very different time. This was back when you still opened cans with an opener; drunk driving was frowned upon but not the cardinal sin it is today; and a grown man could still park outside a Dairy Queen and strike up an innocent conversation with a prepubescent boy on a bike.
"What da ya' got there?" Ned asked.
"Butterscotch Sundae," the boy said. The boy was blonde with brown eyes.
"Butterscotch, eh?"
The boy licked his plastic spoon and stared somewhere beyond the pea-green 1974 Buick Riviera Ned had inherited from his old man after he had kicked the bucket.
"For the life of me, I can't remember if I like butterscotch or not," Ned said. "That probably sounds pretty screwy, I bet."
"Get a free sample at the window,” the kid said. “They're free."
"Looks awfully busy over there. Mind if I have a taste of yours? I don't have any cooties, I promise."
The kid dragged his spoon over his ice cream as he mulled it over. Maybe seeing that he was almost done with it anyway, he figured what's the harm. He handed Ned the Styrofoam cup.
Ned looked at the boy as he stirred it a little and then placed the curved side of the spoon on his tongue and kept it there.
"I do like butterscotch," Ned said, giving it back. "Thank you for sharing that with me, that was awfully kind of you—say, what is your name?"
"Derek," the boy said.
"Derek. What a nice boy you are. Do you like dogs, Derek?"
"Sure," Derek said.
"Do you have a dog?"
"Not anymore. Used to. We had a beagle named Eleanor but she went blind and then lame and then..."
"What kind of dog was she?" Ned asked.
"A beagle," the boy said.
"A beagle, yes you said that. You like Golden Retrievers?"
"Sure," the boy said.
"Cause I have a Golden Retriever. It's a girl too. A bitch."
Derek smiled.
"She's pregnant. I mean she was. But… she just gave birth."
"To puppies?"
"You betcha. It was just a few weeks ago. She had a whole litter of 'em. Boys, girls. Cutest little pups you've ever seen. The thing is, Derek, I don't know what to do with them all. You're a nice boy. You just shared your Butterscotch Sundae with me and I'd care to return the favor. Would you… like a puppy?"
"How much?"
"For nothing,” Ned said. “For free.”
"You'll give me a puppy for nothing? And I can pick the one I want?"
"Sure can. They're at my place just down the road. Thing is, it's probably too far to bike there. And you're going to need both hands to hold on to the puppy. Hop in, I’ll give you a lift."
"What about my bike?"
"We could put it in the trunk but we're not going to be long. We'll be right back. It'll be safe here. People don't take things that aren’t theirs around here – especially when there's a lot of people around."
He remembered waking up on the floor of his apartment disoriented. He was late for work. He was still working as a salesman at the piano store. There was a big Labor Day sale still going on. Labor Day was always a big day for retail. The owner was a nice man and Ned wanted to call him and apologize but he wasn't sure what to say yet.
He hadn't planned on sleeping in. Forgetting work on Labor Day. The irony.
He saw the boy's underwear on his floor. They were tighty-whities from Fruit of the Loom. He thought of that every time he saw an ad for that company afterward.
They weren’t bloody but they were torn.
He remembered the sound of the filter on the aquarium he used to keep in his apartment. It was noisy but sometimes that was a good thing. He was very into Japanese Fighting Fish for a while until it became too expensive as they always killed each other.
There were no puppies obviously.
His apartment did not allow dogs.
His sense of disorientation and the ensuing panic prevented him from experiencing any of the usual remorse he felt afterward.
There would be plenty of time for that later.
The boy's body was in the bathroom just off the bedroom and he needed to get rid of it. He needed to get out of town. Out of Paducah. Out of Kentucky.
He placed the boy in a hardshell Samsonite suitcase, carried it out of his apartment, walked down the one flight of steps. He saw no one and he was confident no one had seen him. The suitcase was lighter than it should have been—a detail he never forgot—and he walked out to the carport where he saw his Riviera parked sloppily between the lines. He felt a wave of nausea come over him but he suppressed it. He opened his trunk, placed the suitcase in the back, and then looked around the apartment complex before walking back inside. He cleaned up with bleach. Showered. Hit the road.
There were no police gathered outside the Dairy Queen. It wasn’t a crime scene. He didn't look to see if the boy’s bike was still there; he didn’t want to appear suspicious.
He needed to get out of Paducah so he headed toward the freeway.
For a moment he briefly considered the Shawnee National Forest, which was to the north, but he stuck to his gut and took the newly-constructed Interstate 24 East toward Tennessee. Aside from getting out of Kentucky, he didn't have a plan. The asphalt was brand new and at times he felt as though he were floating across the highway. It took about two hours to get to the state line and once he was over, he filled up at a 76 Station in Clarksville, Tennessee. Only when he was filling his tank and had a moment to reflect, did he think about what was in the trunk. He imagined he had Superman's X-Ray vision and pictured the suitcase in the back, the boy's tiny body folded like a pretzel inside.
He missed both the readings, the Gospel, and the homily again. Then came the Consecration which was over before he knew it. It was time. He began to play "I Will Raise Him Up." In his rearview, he saw the communion lines forming and he thought he caught a glimpse of the new usher staring at him, but he couldn't be sure. He needed to concentrate on the song. People knew this one; people wanted to hear it exactly as they remembered it, and it was a full house, so the sustain pedal wouldn't save him this time.
Once he made it through the chorus, he knew he could relax a little.
The "DNA fingerprinting" in Pitchfork's case came from semen that was left inside of the victims.
Ned had made it to the outskirts of Nashville faster than he expected. He still hadn't checked in with Mr. Cory, the owner of the piano store. He desperately needed an alibi. Old Mr. Cory could probably send Ned to the electric chair if he wasn't careful.
He got on Highway 386 and headed north. After 20 minutes, he exited in Gallatin and drove around until he found an area he thought was remote. There was a road called Cages Bend.
He liked the sound of that.
It sounded hopeful.
He took that until he came to a gravel road, which looked as if it led to an even more secluded wooded area.
In the rearview, he remembered the cloud of dust kicked up by the tires of the Riviera he had inherited from his father, the drunk, who had done to him what he had gone on to do to others.
In the rearview, the communion lines were still going strong. No sign of that new usher.
He came upon a bend in the road that looked totally secluded, as if no one had been there in years. He cut the engine and listened for a moment. The invisible cicadas high up in the trees made it sound as if a giant rattle snake was slithering around him, preparing to strike. He got out of the car.
He didn't know if it was the trees or the fields of tall grass, but something smelled like semen.
He opened the trunk with his keys and pulled out the hardshell suitcase. When he closed the trunk there was a rustling in the tall grass but when he looked, he saw only a herd of white tail deer scattering.
Initially he had planned on dumping the body and taking the suitcase home with him. He didn't think to bring a shovel. Then he heard the sound of a bush hog—a piece of farm equipment with spinning blades that cut vegetation and cleared the land. He couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. He checked to make sure his suitcase didn't have any labels on it or name tags. He then two black trash bags in his back seat and wrapped the suitcase – one bag around the top, the other on the bottom, and secured it with masking tape. Then he carried it into the woods and set it down in some brush. He began snapping tree branches off to make cover but as the bush hog got louder and closer he panicked, leaving it only partially covered.
The communion lines had dissipated. Everyone was sitting now, even the priest.
Everyone always knelt until the priest sat and Ned should never be playing if the priest was sitting but somehow, Ned had missed his cue.
He concluded "I Will Raise Him Up" softly, using the sustain to ease himself out.
He looked in the rearview and saw the priest staring at him.
As was the rest of the congregation.
They would all be coming for him soon enough.
Unless he could make it back down to Tennessee and get rid of that thing once and for all – assuming it hadn’t been found yet.
Somehow, deep down, Ned always knew it was going to happen.
He was raised up, alright.
Now it was just a matter of time.
submitted by UnmovableFeast to creepypasta [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 02:55 LAPIREDUMONDE Does my bf not care about me? (not helping me while I'm in crisis)

I am looking for feedback and understand I am not innocent in this.
I have only been in crisis once in my life (6 years ago) where I made many attempts and also self-harmed. Thanks to getting therapy for my PTSD I have not relapsed since then. I say this to emphasize that being in crisis is NOT normal for me.
I (27 f) have been dating my bf (32) for 2 years. I, unfortunately, got a concussion 2 months ago and recently have started having panic attacks, impulsivity + intense low mood swings. After being overworked in my job with my condition I had a mental breakdown where I stayed outside my apartment and called a hotline because I thought I was going to hurt myself. I did not feel able to keep myself safe despite not wanting to hurt myself. I have never had that before...
I was able to calm myself down but was still slightly in crisis when my bf got home so I told him the situation. He was worried but did not dwell on it. I was able to calm down in the evening but then had another scary mood swing and felt unsafe the next day. My bf mentioned that he would be leaving a bit earlier than previously planned and I asked him to please, please, please stay here this week because I'm struggling with a lot of mental pain and don't want to face this alone. I told him I felt like this is the one time in my life where I feel like I need someone else to support me. He said no because he has a dentist appointment and wants to spend time with his family.
For context he lives with me half of the time + stays with his family in a city near by the other half of the time.
He left and then was calling me a lot and I found myself getting more and more upset while I was still in crisis and knew this was not a good situation. I told him (and maybe this is where I messed up) that I was disappointed that he made the decision that he did and that speaking to him is making upset so I didn't want to talk to him for at least a couple of days because I am trying to get better. I said that I was hurt that he chose a dentist's appt and not wanting to drive too much over being there with me in my time of need.
I didn't talk to him for 24h but then felt guilty because I thought about the fact that he was probably really worried about my safety so it wasn't good of me to ask that we don't communicate
I sent a text apologizing for that and asking if we could talk on the phone. He said he wants to talk but needs space and is busy.
How do I interpret this?
(More context) I am in therapy + physio. During this crisis, I have made extra appts. A family member is also helping me and knows that I'm in crisis.
TLDR: I told my bf I feel unsafe due to mental anguish from a concussion and wanted him to stay with me, he left and when I got upset, he in turn would not communicate with me.
submitted by LAPIREDUMONDE to relationships_advice [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 02:35 Nemo__404 Deathworlders Should Not Be Allowed To Date! [Ch. 36/??]

first
Luna VI query: Set the source to the translation logs of Princess Amara Auralyn.
No problem!
Luna VI query: Narrate Amara's plan to flee from the war.
***
The moment Amara's nose caught the scent of that little puff of smoke ascending from Nathan's damaged equipment, she suspected something terrible had happened. Her lack of understanding of the nature of this particular piece of human tech was unimportant. Just from knowing the fact that this was one of the few items Nathan had rushingly retrieved was more than enough for her to infer its importance.
His extremely negative reaction to its destruction also hadn't escaped her notice.
Amid the ragged bursts of breath and droplets of sweat running down his face, he stared at the smoking piece of equipment on the ground as he cursed. Then he stood up in a huff, pulling his hair as if trying to remove it from his scalp.
With the object source of their distress in between herself and Nathan, she asked a question that she already knew the answer to. "Was that the device you would use to request help?"
Nathan was breathing too fast to speak properly. "What else could. It be."
His confirmation was the last straw for her to close her eyes, allowing all the emotions she'd been suppressing to be manifested, like a multi-colored river flowing among her black spots.
When she opened her eyes again, she and Nathan were already locking gazes, him bending his head forward as he used his knees to support his upper body, while she stood upright with her head at the same vertical level as his.
Amara felt a shared sense of anger at the situation between them, but she was also afraid that Nathan’s anger was more targeted at her than at the situation.
It took some courage for her to speak first.
"Do you have other means for contacting your people?" She knew it was unlikely he had that, but it was still a question worth asking.
"The radio transmitter was being jammed. I didn't think of bringing it with me." He was recovering his breath fast. "What about you? There is that earpiece, and yesterday you had that AR visor on all day."
"The communicator in my ear is short-ranged. As for the AR visor..." She struggled to tell the truth, but she still did it. "I hid it inside a hole in a tree and forgot it."
"A hole? In a tree? Are you kidding me?"
The truth was that Amara hid it before entering Nathan's tent on the previous night. She had certain expectations and didn't want to be interrupted by the notifications.
But of course, she would never admit that.
"See any pockets?" She extended both hands and put her tail beside them, showing she had nowhere to store the items.
"Oh… sorry. Sometimes I forget our differences."
Nathan believed her so easily that she felt a little bad for him, but not bad enough to waste their precious time with unnecessary talking. "Even should I go alone, I fear I cannot retrieve our devices. I would just get killed or captured for nothing. We cannot stay here either because soon they will follow your trail; we need a plan."
She was certain the only reason the enemies hadn't followed them yet was because they had underestimated Nathan's ability to run.
"I wouldn't let you go back there even if you wanted to, Amara. But at least you are thinking now." He touched his chin, his eyes wandering around. "And yeah, we need a plan."
Unknowingly to Nathan, his words had caused Amara to drift away. And it was not because of him saying he wouldn't allow her to return, but because of his mention of the fact that she wasn't thinking before.
And this had affected her deeply because she utterly agreed with him.
By noticing how differently Ryo and Elysira had handled the same situation before they had fleed, Amara had reflected about how poorly she had reacted to the war. She was guilty of thinking about this more than just a little while Nathan was putting in all the effort to take her away from danger.
She traced back her mistake to a single moment—when Nathan had told her his list of reasons why they couldn't be together. This was when she had allowed her heart to be poisoned with rejection, which by morning had spiraled out of control by the dreadful reportings she had received, and finally, it had culminated in her emotional response to the crisis.
Which curiously Nathan had later fixed by his total commitment to staying together.
Amara found all of that pathetic.
This time she set her priorities straight as she suppressed her detrimental feelings in favor of reason. "We could trek parallel to the mountain and find a cave to hide until the elders send help."
"How long would that take?" He asked.
His questions triggered a long chain of assumptions in her mind. She first considered the political situation after the disruptive assassinations in the capital, and then the logistics of the deployment of reinforcements.
But Amara discarded the whole plan when she tried to envision how long it would take for her allies to find them in the darkness of the forest, realizing how flawed her suggestion was.
Displaying red, she said, "Help will be here today, yet the war on the ground will turn into a slow spot-and-kill conflict. My thoughts must still be clouded. To hide in the mountains is a death sentence; the rebels would have a better idea where to search for us than my allies would."
Nathan touched his face and shook his head at her admission. Without fully understanding what he was doing, she watched him approach a young tree and stare at its bark as his right arm tensed.
Before she could ask a single question, he punched the rough bark, dislodging some wood from the brittle surface and making it fall.
He said, "I'm such an idiot. Now our only option is to keep running and I didn't even bring the water."
She was taken aback by his reaction.
It was true among her species that the males could be more aggressive under stressful situations. But to go as far as hunting themselves against a tree? This was something she hadn't seen before nor she could understand.
What would she do now?
Of all her priorities, communicating with him was very high on her list. This went much beyond certain feelings she had, being directly linked to their survival. Remembering how Ryo and Elysira had handled the same situation before they had fled, she couldn't help but feel like she and Nathan were still failing at this.
Following more instinct than reason, Amara decided to approach him as the red on her skin gradually gave way to purple at every step she took.
When he was within tails reach of her, she spoke.
"I cannot read your thoughts much less can I see your feelings, but I presume that similar to me you can also sense that we failed today, am I wrong?" Nathan pursed his lips and didn't reply, leaving her at a loss for a moment. Yet she didn't give up and wrapped her tail around his wrist, raising his scraped knuckles for him to see. "Why have you done this?"
"I..." He averted his eyes from the wound, relaxing his arm. "This ain't me I swear Amara. It's just-"
"The drones are coming." She was forced to shut him up with her tail to confirm what she heard in the background while he was speaking. After adjusting the angle of her ears she added, "At least three."
Seeing Nathan's face contort from one weird expression after the other, she could only feel regret and anger that she was forced to interrupt him. But as long as they were alive they could always talk more later.
"Great!" He took a deep breath and lowered his back for her to climb. "Let's see how far I can go without water."
"No." She could hear the drones advancing slowly, likely searching for places where they might have hidden, underestimating how far Nathan had taken her. "I do not doubt you can run more, but there is no point in running unless we can lose them. Can you do what Ryo did and destroy them?"
He didn't look at her as he replied, "I could try, but I don't have whatever aim improving add-on the military gave him, much less the years of training."
"Can I borrow your loud gun then?" Amara had a seed of a plan in her mind, a risky and reckless plan but still better than doing nothing or engaging in more random running.
"What? Do you have any idea how hard is to shoot those things down?" Nathan took her request so badly that he lifted his body again to explain more. "Your species may have precise movements and all, but this revolver needs more than just aiming, there's the recoil, reloading, and I bet it hurt your ears; besides I doubt you can do better than me without having taken a single shot with one of our guns your whole life."
Nathan was not wrong.
No matter how hard it felt to admit it to herself, the truth was that she was not a frontline fighter. She could bring order. She could weed out traitors. She could give directions. But taking a gun and firing at the enemies? Even a gun crafted by her species was something she lacked experience using.
Still, the way that he expressed his doubt without even hearing what she had in mind made her quite angry. It was nothing close to the feeling of rejection from the night, but it was still enough to encourage her to double down on her idea.
"I do not intend to shoot the drones from far away like you humans do." Amara pointed at the canopy of the young tree beside them and waited for him to look up before she added, "I want to ambush them from a close distance."
His eyes widened, but Nathan still wasn't convinced. "That's dangerous Amara. What if you miss it? You'll just let them know where we are for nothing. And even if you don't miss the shots can’t they just send more drones?"
"You speak reason, but my goal extends beyond destroying them. I know how brother and my species think and I want to mislead them." Amara did her best to let him know her intention. "You will have to be my bait too, and we will need to run as fast as we can towards the valleys once I destroy them. I would explain everything if there was time, but right now you will have to trust me."
"You want to go to the valleys..." He spoke in a low voice as he scratched his head.
Seeing that he didn't straight up reject her idea this time, Amara went on for the last push, showing a forced hint of yellow to try and sound confident. "No sane individual would go to the valleys without equipment and a large group, my brother and his army will never consider searching for us in there."
She regretted her wording as soon as she was done speaking, afraid she might have scared Nathan who was taking his time to reply.
But before she could say anything more, Nathan started loading his gun and when he was done he used his thumb to lower a little lever. "You have to pull this thing down each time before pulling the trigger, but I guess you saw me doing it enough times already." He then undid his action before offering the gun to her as he held it by the muzzle. "Don't forget to hold it with all your might or the recoil will hurt you."
She considered saying some words to let him know how much his trust meant to her, but the drones were approaching and there were more important things to say. Her tail simply coiled around the gun, and she took it as the weight of the task ahead caused the object to feel heavier than it was.
She considered if she should ask for more ammunition, but concluded she wouldn't have time to reload, which she knew was bad despite making things significantly easier.
"Go there and make it convincing that you are absolutely exhausted, can you?" Using her tail, Amara pointed at a bright spot on the ground, where a beam of blue light was making its way from the canopies to the ground. "This is important Nathan. The operators must believe you reached your limit, they must report to my brother that you cannot run much longer."
"This won't be too hard." His lips curled into a hint of a smile. "But are you sure they don't use AI instead of operators to guide the drones?"
"Only you humans are crazy enough to disregard the only law the alliance enforces." She started climbing the tree with each of her clawed hands poking holes into the bark from a different side, but when she was already above Nathan, she looked below. "I am counting on you. We made too many mistakes today, one more and it might not be forgiven."
"I'll do what you asked, okay? Just hit the drones and don't fall from the tree." He said before running towards the spot she had instructed him.
With each of them agreeing on their role, Amara kept climbing the tree, finding little difficulty in her initial task. This was so easy that almost all of her attention was focused on tracking the spinning blades of the drones, which were constantly approaching at a speed that suggested they were doing a minute inspection of the ground.
It was only when she was already high above that she noticed the first problem.
If she wanted the advantage of shooting the drones from the same plane they were approaching, Amara would either have to give up a hand for the aim, or she would have to compromise her camouflage by wrapping her legs around the tree to help her tail to hold her body.
Neither of the options was ideal, but doing nothing was even worse, which led her to choose to sacrifice some of her ability to aim in favor of a tighter grip, ensuring that her legs kept hidden behind the trunk as she pressed each of her clawed fingers of her left hand against the rough bark for a secure hold.
Feeling a burning anxiety like she never felt before, she transferred the gun from her tail to her right hand and surrounded the tree with her now free tail to improve her grip even more.
She then turned her head and took a final glance at Nathan and confirmed he was stooping down and breathing loudly, exactly on the spot she had asked him to go.
Now everything was ready.
Amara hid the gun in between her belly and the tree as her whole body mimicked the brownish color of the bark, even her tail and hair transitioning from their typical blue to a copy of the textured color surrounding her.
Her eyes closed and only a mental representation of her surroundings remained, being especially accurate this time as if her her body knew there was no room for mistakes.
As the seconds passed, her heart rate slowed down and her awareness peaked. Of all her body, only her long ears slightly moved as the positions of the three drones became less foggy in her mind the closer they got to her.
The fact that one of them suddenly stopped moving right in front of the tree was something she expected, that being the exact moment its sensors had found Nathan on the ground.
Instead of attacking, Amara waited.
And almost envisioning the exact conversation the operators were having behind their visors, she gauged the time they took to communicate among themselves by observing how long the other two drones had taken to start moving closer to the one that had spotted Nathan first.
This wasn't a lot of time, which put into perspective how fast she would have to act in order to prevent the other two drones from repositioning after the first one was destroyed.
Her heart was beating slowly and her mind was focused; the chances of the targets getting closer were no different than that of them getting more distant.
Somewhere inside she could feel it—now was the perfect moment for her attack.
Amara's eyes snapped open and her heart rate multiplied by nearly threefold, preparing her for intense exertion. The muscles of her left arm propelled her body sideways, taking her head away from the protection of the tree trunk. That happened at the same time that her clawed finger pulled down the little lever, just like Nathan had taught her.
Her eyes locked first on the most distant target, which was not further away from her than twelve meters, and her right arm moved accordingly, raising the gun as her clawed finger slipped into the trigger.
She knew how painful to her ears the noise would be, yet she still forced her eyes to stay open as she pulled the trigger.
Except, she flinched at the last moment and ended up missing the target because of it.
Now her ears were ringing and the number of targets was the same, fueling her fury for the next shots she fired in a quick sequence.
It took three more attempts to destroy the furthest target, turning her fury into apprehension.
And apprehension quickly transitioned into despair when, after destroying the middle target with two shots, she pulled the trigger aiming at the closed drone, only to hear an empty click.
The drone rotated towards her and she also felt Nathan's gaze in the distance, screaming something that she was too numb to understand.
Would she be the reason for their demise?
Just the thought of how happy her brother would be for seeing her so helpless was more than enough of a reason for her to not accept that.
So at the lack of bullets, she spitefully threw the gun at the spinning blades.
And when the outcome of her desperate action did little more than cause the drone to lose control for a few moments, she still refused to give up and pounced on it as if she were a trained huntress.
If Bhaela could jump from a tree and dig her claws into the veins of an Oczoil from high above and survive to tell the tale, why couldn't she do the same with a little drone?
Her confidence only lasted until no part of her body was touching the tree and her limbs contacted the blades, causing a sharp pain, which she promptly forgot as flesh and machine plummeted together.
Amara tried to use her tail and arms to cushion the fall, but unlike Bhaela graceful performance, all she achieved was her belly smashing the drone against the ground before her arms and head split the kinetic energy from the fall.
Her vision went black after that, but Amara knew she wasn't dead because that annoying ringing sound in her ears persisted, reminding her of her failure.
Time became confused in her state of disorientation, and she had no idea how long had passed when she felt her eyes being opened. As she watched the world around her through a red filter, Amara got to see Nathan's mouth moving, but she was unable to grasp a single word he said.
In a rushed manner, he took off his jacket and pulled out a knife, which he then used to slice a piece of fabric.
He said something again, and she felt his hand pressing against her forehead, the severed portion of his jacket he held being large enough to cover even her eyes below.
Amara felt like sleeping this time, the darkness feeling more welcoming than scary.
But before she could fall asleep, she noticed her body being lifted from the ground. And unlike the last time, she was being held from below as Nathan's hand kept her head locked against his body.
The last memory she retained before her consciousness faded was of hearing the rhythmic sound of his breathing and his loud steps below, feeling as if she might have wrapped her tail around his arm. Yet, she remained unsure whether she had truly done so or if it was just a product of her imagination.
***
This was an account based on Amara's plan to flee from the war. The previous narrative is based on the events of the morning of the twentieth day of the exploratory mission of Irisa. According to your current settings, no queries will be suggested.
next->patreon wiki
submitted by Nemo__404 to HFY [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 02:27 Charming-Paper-1564 38 weeks today getting excited!

No plans on an induction by doctor given I'm high risk with fibroids but have been very healthy and my pregnancy has been smooth so no need for an electives induction.
How are you feeling? Anyone else nearing the end of the 3rd trimester? Trying to find more mom friends locally but not having much luck 😕 . What's worked for you?
My hormones have also been everywhere it feels like the first trimester with the insane mood swings from feeling neutral to so sad and anxious.
submitted by Charming-Paper-1564 to BabyBumps [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 02:07 OneTrickRaven One Man's Trash is Another Man's... Dragon? A Guide to Rielle the Everwise

Hello! Welcome to my [[Rielle, the Everwise]] deck. This is a slightly unorthodox approach to the commander, focusing on using her as a card advantage engine while throwing [[Dragon's Approach]] into the graveyard as often as possible to then cheat out really scary dragons. The result is a fairly strong deck, capable of holding its own at moderately optimized tables, that also lacks any infinite combos or commonly hated strategies and rarely induces salt in opponents when it wins. Here is the current deck list.

Deck Pros and Cons

Pros:
-Dragons!
-Numerous ways to win the game, if one of your win conditions gets stopped you can usually pivot to another without too much fuss.
-Draws an incredible amount of cards, and everyone likes drawing cards!
-Generally takes quick turns, plus some quick actions on other players turns, so you never end up monopolizing the game clock.
-Avoids most commander staples, and wouldn't be improved by their inclusion as the synergy pieces that replace them work better in this deck.
-Uses some relatively obscure cards to devastating effect. Always fun to win a game with a card people have never heard of before.
Cons:
-Fairly commander reliant, if people kill Rielle every time she hits the board, you're in for a rough game.
-This is a greedily built deck, with a slow start, low land count and minimal ramp. Needs a good opening hand to function properly.
-Vulnerable to consistent graveyard hate, though resilient to one-off effects.

Strategy

Mulligan
This is a deck that will do absolutely nothing if it has a bad starting hand, so getting your mulligan strategy down is important. There are three things you absolutely need to have in hand for the deck to function: a red mana source, a blue mana source and a discard outlet. If you don't have those, mulligan. You also want to have a third mana source so you can guarantee Rielle on three. This is a deck that generates incredible amounts of card advantage from the command zone, so you can safely mull down to five or even four if you have to, just make sure you get these three things.
Early Game
This is the boring and easy part of the game for Rielle. A significant amount of the time this will be your first three turns:
Turn 1: Land, pass.
Turn 2: Land, pass.
Turn 3: Land, Rielle, pass.
Not the most exciting or explosive start in the world, but it's enough. Obviously there are a number of turn one and two plays in the deck, ramp pieces, no maximum hand size pieces, [[Magus of the Bazaar]], [[Harmonic Prodigy]], etc. These are gravy, if you have them by all means play them, but the most important thing is Rielle is on the field by turn three.
Mid Game
Now the deck really starts to come online. You want to get 4 Dragon's Approach into your graveyard as quickly as possible, so start churning your deck. Unless you need to draw in order to hit a land drop, or your discard options are only sorcery speed, I generally try to save my drawing for other people's end steps. This allows you to hold up mana for counterspells and avoid end of turn hand size discards a bit longer. It doesn't matter whether or not you actually have a counterspell, you can easily draw into one and just bluffing one with the open mana can cause a lot of havoc. Once you've gotten four Approaches into your graveyard, it's time to grab your first dragon, so take a look at the board and decide which one you want.
[[Niv-Mizzet, Parun]]: This is the most common first dragon to hit the board. Unless board state dictates that another dragon is more necessary right now, consider Niv to be your default option, as he gives you card draw, spot removal and a won-con piece all in one.
[[Niv-Mizzet, the Firemind]]: If you already have Parun out, or if you happened to draw Parun and thus can't grab him from your library, this is a good second option. Having both Nivs on the board gets very silly, very fast.
[[Ancient Copper Dragon]]: Far better when you have Anger in the graveyard for an immediate attack, Copper is unreliable but can be an absolutely monstrous mana swing. I like to grab Copper if I have the dragon I actually want to play or another win condition in hand.
[[Ancient Silver Dragon]: For times when Rielle just isn't keeping up with the card draw you need, somehow. Usually a supplementary piece for when Rielle has been removed too often or you already have Niv on the board and want a burst of draw. Also really wants Anger in the graveyard.
[[Hellkite Tyrant]]: Is someone popping off with artifacts? Not anymore! Great answer for artifact decks and also a great alternative win condition for decks that make it so you cannot deal damage to them, especially combined with Ancient Copper.
[[Balefire Dragon]]: Sometimes token decks just get a bit out of hand and you really need to knock them down a peg.
[[Utvara Hellkite]]: For when you have dragons you want to be attacking with but you really can't afford to take the crackback. Probably my least used dragon, but sometimes it comes in very clutch and offers a good, last ditch, face beating win-con.
End Game
How you play out the end game and pilot to a victory depends heavily on the dragons you've pulled out. There's a variety of win conditions available to the deck, which I'll list out here and which one you attempt to navigate to will depend on your judgement of the game state.
Fire and Fury: This is the simplest and easiest way to win. Get a Niv-Mizzet on the board, ideally both of them, Harmonic Prodigy if you can, and then just draw all the cards and burn everyone out with dozens of pings to the face. Often I try to finish this off with [[Firestorm]], discarding as many cards in hand as there are legal targets, including my own creatures and face if necessary, then drawing a bunch off the discard which will trigger before the resolution, using the pings to bring everyone low and having the Firestorm finish them.
Build the Hoard: Sometimes people end up with 300 life and you'll deck yourself trying to ping them down, so you need an alternate solution. Enter Hellkite Tyrant and Ancient Copper Dragon. Get a whole bunch of treasures, steal a bunch of artifacts, and then just win on your upkeep regardless of life totals.
Ripples of Power: This is probably my least favourite way to win, but sometimes you're just having a hell of a time keeping engines on the board. Drop [[Thrumming Stone]], play Dragon's Approach, everyone probably dies to the burn as you play every single Dragon's Approach in the deck, and if they don't, you also get to play multiple dragons for free and then use those to finish the game out.
Tooth and Claw: While most of the dragons in this deck are value engines, they are also still dragons. Get Utvara Hellkite on the field and just start swinging. It can be pretty hard to deal with an absolute barrage of big, flying, beatsticks.
Old Lady Strength: While there's very little in the deck that really helps with a Voltron strategy, Rielle does get pretty high power just as part of the game plan. Doing something like a [[Turbulent Dreams]] to clear someone of blockers and pump Rielle to lethal amounts of power can be a powerful solution to a problem opponent.

Notable Cards

[[Attunement]]: This card is insane value with Rielle. Draw 3 discard 4 draw 4 for 3 would be good if that was all it did, but you get it back every time, too and can play it to use at instant speed on other people's turns for free.
[[Breakthrough]]: X is basically always zero or one if there's a specific card you want to keep. Draw 4 discard your hand draw that many cards for 1? Insane. Especially good with Library of Leng out.
[[Dack Fayden]]: This one's a bit weird, Dack is usually used for his -2 to steal an artifact or to try and get off his ultimate in order to commit grand larceny, but in this deck he's almost always just a repeatable draw 2 discard 2 draw 2. People do get spooked by him sometimes, especially if his loyalty gets into ult range, but there's like 2 cards in the deck that can utilize his ult emblem and it's really just not what the deck does, at all. Keeping him on the table can be difficult if people don't believe you.
Firestorm: Wonderful game ender or board wipe. One very important thing to remember is that X cannot be higher than the number of legal targets. Sometimes you have to hit your own stuff in order to get X high enough to kill people. Sometimes you don't want to use your Niv pings to remove problematic enemy pieces because you want more targets for the Firestorm you'll be casting next turn.
[[Foil]]: Free counterspell AND you get to draw two cards? Incredible value.
[[Forbid]]: 3 for a counterspell discard 2 draw 2 and you get to keep the counterspell in hand? I've had people scoop as soon as they realize the implications of this card. You will never run out of counterspells with this in hand, though you can still run out of mana obviously.
Harmonic Prodigy: At first I dismissed this as good, but not incredible, because while doubling Rielle triggers is huge, I thought that was all it did. Except... both Niv-Mizzets are wizards, too. So you double your draw, then double the damage from the draw. This gets out of hand very quickly.
[[Library of Leng]]: Very useful piece, but it's extremely important to note that it only triggers when an effect causes you to discard, not a cost. Firestorm, Turbulent Dreams, [[Sphinx of the Chimes]], [[Cathartic Reunion]], Forbid and [[Nahiri's Wrath]] are all costs, and thus their discards cannot be put onto the top of your deck.
Sphinx of the Chimes: Probably the card Commander players have seen the least, if you get this on the field you should probably just win the game. Discard 2 Dragon's Approaches to draw six cards at instant speed for free, as often as you want. Worth it even if Rielle has already drawn you cards this turn and you only get four. Activate this twice and you have enough Approaches in graveyard for a dragon, and having this with Niv-Mizzet is an absolute terror.
[[Stream of Consciousness]]: A bit of recursion for when things go sideways and you end up wanting a dragon that's already dead, or that you drew and discarded, back in your deck to grab with an Approach. Only one effect like this because I've rarely needed it and you draw enough that you'll usually hit it when you do need it.
[[Teferi's Puzzle Box]]: One of the most frustrating things in this deck is when you draw the dragon you want to cheat out with Dragon's Approach. This puts them back in the deck while also letting you draw a whole bunch of new cards for Niv to trigger off.

Conclusion

Thank you for reading my primer on Dragon's Approach Rielle, I absolutely love this deck and it's far and away my most played Commander deck ever. If you end up playing it or something like it, I would love to hear your thoughts and stories, and I'm always happy to answer any questions you may have on the deck.
submitted by OneTrickRaven to EDH [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 01:36 Slow-Caterpillar5323 Please help I don’t understand!!!

I feel like my baby hates me! She’s almost always fine except for normal babies things with LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE!!!!!!!!! This is my first baby. I’ve always taken care of babies no problem. In fact I’ve been the person my mom specifically would have take care of my siblings. My daughter is now almost 4 months old. I’ve tried everything if feels like. I to wits end. I can’t do anything with her. She will literally starve herself to have nothing to do with me. So for anyone that keeps telling me that it’s because I smell like milk or she hungry blah blah blah …. I highly doubt it. There’s been a handful of days I have to take care of her most of the day, and those days she won’t take anything from me. A bottle, the breast, syringe, etc. I can’t hold her, but if I put her down she just still cry’s like she in so much pain. I do all the things you can think of. Rock her it be in a swing or different types of rockers ex: recliner, gliders, swivel chairs. Walk her in my arms, in her doona car seat, in those strap on baby carriers ( clothe, strapped ones, and the wraps). Ive made sure she isn’t gassy, having acid reflux, making sure her diaper or clothes isn’t bothering her, making sure nothing is pinching her, making sure her skin isn’t irritated… I’ve tried bathing her, taking her in the shower with me, laying with her, sitting with her, I can keep going on and on. I have no idea what to do at this point. She’s done this since the day I had her. She doesn’t have “latch issues” either in the sense that something is wrong but simply because she refuse me to the point eating is an actual wrestling match and she BITES THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME!! She full blown fights me on taking care of her like she’s a 1 year old. I’ve tried staying as calm as I can but I am human and break. I’ve raged out to the point of almost breaking my own hands and giving myself a concussion. I stay so calm for so long and give up. I have to almost always give her to my dad, husband (when he’s home), or let her cry til she passes out from pure exhaustion. I’ve seen all the professionals!!! My PCP and her PCP my personal nurse, everyone in my doctors office and the hospital, even the people in the transfusion center at my hospital (was going because I was iron deficient from losing tons of blood and making 1-2 gallons of milk a day), I’ve went to LLC’s, health department, and so on. I’ve tried to talk to family about it and they refuse to listen to me. Literally everyone except my husband has almost full blown stays in denial to what’s happening with me and her. I love my daughter so much and I’ve gone through so much for her willing and unwilling. Me and my husband planned on having her. I just want her to be happy and healthy. I’ve always for as long as i could remember I’ve dreamed of having children even while I once denounced having kids because of the roe v wade ruling( I’m pro choice btw) and being raped for years on end prior to meeting my husband. I’ve been at my all time lowest because of my daughter’s EXTRME rejection towards me. She’s one of those babies that sadly would have died in a not so modern time simply because she wants nothing to do with her mother that is the only one able to give her what she needs. Only reason I’m able to make sure she is ok is cause I’m able to have a husband that works and dad that has an online business and stays home and helps me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to pump ( and I have to because short of birth control, fertility treatments, and domaine boosters, I’ve tried everything in the book and otc Sudafed to kill my milk supply. Nothing has worked. I’m now possibly pregnant and I’m worried about it cos I need to stop lactating temporarily for my health and this potential pregnancy cos it makes my uterus contract so much I’ve been coming here on Reddit for advice on different things cos I’ve been exhausting all options on many things and it seems I’m in the extreme minority on lot of different things
submitted by Slow-Caterpillar5323 to Advice [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 00:50 Hot-Statistician-540 My mother put more effort into my older sister's babysitter and gifts than mine

I just want to vent since it just hurts deep. Sorry if this sounds rambling it's being weighing on me alot.
Some back story my older sister and I are 7 years apart. I used to live with my mother when I had my first, my mom kept everything when she was evicted she put everything in storage beside my asking for my things. She keep insisting later another time or she would claim she gave it away to someone else. December 2022 she was kicked out of her rental and moved in with my husband eldest daughter and i. June of last year I found out I was pregnant with my second baby the same year My sister's husband passed and she decided to do what they always wanted to go ahead and have ivf that was scheduled the following week. So we would be about 4 months apart and having babies the same year.
On to the meat of the story, December last year my husband's aunts wanted to plan and host a baby shower for us since it was his first baby. I had my baby shower I asked months in advance for my mom to get my stuff before the baby shower so I could make an accurate list of things I needed she did not. I gave up make a new registry of everything I need for baby girl. My mom know the shower was being planned, didn't really make an effort to try and be involved in the planning or wanting to help me register for things in store. January comes along my baby shower was coming up quick and my mom hadn't taken that day off or even went shopping for a gift for the shower, she begrudgingly takes the day off to go and makes a fuss about having to use her time to go. The week of my baby shower I remind her what time and where she asks me what did I want as a gift I asked you didn't get one yet? She tells me no I've been too busy with work and your sister to go shopping. The day of the shower she rushed getting ready, needs to run to target to buy a gift and card, and inisits on talking my distracted 8 year old with her. No real though or effort in the gift she sends me pictures of what's there saying pick a swing. After the party I felt hurt and sad I just kept to myself about how I felt since telling her was a losing battle. February I went into labor at 11pm my mom was getting ready for work asked why are you awake I tell her I'm in labor i get an oh i have to go to work i cant not go. At 2 am my daughter was born the only person by my side was my husband. We stayed one day in the hospital when we went home things went mostly back to normal until my sister's baby shower needed to be planned. My mother went all out buying poster board decorations, custom banners, signs, 7 different game prizes from gift cards to smalls things, sweets, onesies decoration station and luxury party favors. Oh her baby shower gifts 4 different big bags full of gifts from her and her boyfriend paying. My house became a disaster baby shower stuff every where, decorations, party favors and whatever else she kept ordering. My mom took 3 days off to help get everything ready set up and buy all the things. Going to the baby shower I just felt crushes I didn't get the same attention or even effort.
Eta My first baby shower she didn't show up to because my eldest father's aunts planned it.
When my bil passed my mother and I went up to her to help her emotionally physically and financially. My mother stayed 2 weeks I went up on my days off to help with catch and rid her roosters and tend to her flock while being almost 6 months pregnant.
submitted by Hot-Statistician-540 to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 00:42 Napstar007 [Quick Guide/Tool] When a non-plus skill mii is better than a non-mii coinbox driver

[Quick Guide/Tool] When a non-plus skill mii is better than a non-mii coinbox driver
Sheet can be found here . If the post is too complicated just read the sentences in bold print.
So I heard several times on Danny's stream on youtube that non-plus skill miis are better than coinbox drivers if you manage to reach 170 actions with the mii.
So quick reminder there are 148 ranked tracks and after you invested in all plus skill miis (santa doesn't cover anything additional and gold mii only one track), there are ~32 tracks left.
Daisy Mii available on sale tomorrow, the 'best' non-plus skill mii for ranked with triple banana skill (especially good with banana+ glider adding 30 points to each small banana hit) will cover 9 more so around ~23 left.
Goomba mii for example or some other will add another 5, then it's 18 left.
So what we discuss here are only around ~20 ranked tracks left to cover after investing into plus skill miis and daisy mii with either non-plus skill miis or non-mii coinbox/boomerang drivers such as chargin' chuck gold, daisy thai dress, donkey kong gladiator to mention the most prominent examples.
Sheet to compare two drivers, a non-plus skill mii needs only 170 actions to compare in score to a 200 actions coinbox non-mii driver.
I became curious and also wanted to understand better where that comes from. If you assume fully maxed loadouts a mii will have 40% more base points than a non-mii. Meaning for the biggest contribution to the score the bonus points boost for the driver is also 40% bigger.
If you include maxed out karts and glider that have half the base points of a maxed out driver (so the same amount together), then the overall total bonus points boost you get is only 20% more. You get this contribution for every action on the track.
After 200 actions the bonus points boost, the big investment-dependent part to your score, ends. If you can go above that with drivers miis meaning drivers with higher basepoints will be of course better or skills that give more points for their actions such as banana and bowser shell. That is unless of your course you can get a lot more actions with boomerang for example (world records) since there are still contributions to the score after 200 actions: combo bonus, action base points * kart multiplier and glider skill.
So a simple and naive calculation would be to say we take 200 actions for the non-mii:
actions_mii*(1+20%)*bonus points boost = 200*bonus points boost
-> actions_mii = 200/1.20 = 166.7 actions
which is near already!
But we neglected all other score contributions, such as the action base points and the combo bonus.
For a top shelf gliders with each additional action in the combo chain you get 0,3,6,...,45 additional points, so from the 16th action onwards you get 45 points to every action.
But every item also has action base points, picking up a coin for example gives 5 points for the coins and is multiplied by the kart multipler by 2 if it's top shelf and again by the kart multiplier depending on the kart skill level (found in the kart description) which is at level 8 1.3.
So we end up getting 5*2*1.3 = 13 points for each coin we pick up additionally. The kart multiplers of 2*1.3=2.6 also work the same way on any other base action for example a banana hit.
As an aside the HE banana+ glider would add 30 points to every small single banana hit as well, these are not multiplied by the kart factor and just added to your score for every hit. Glider skills wont be included here from now own and we assume all actions on a track are coin actions/mini turbo actions which gives the same low amount of points.
I made a sheet adding these base considerations to calculate the amount of actions needed when including coin action/mini turbo action base points, kart multiplier and combo bonus (the action type is adjustable by changing the amount of action base points).
And the result is 170 as Danny and Autodrift already said on his stream before.
You can use this sheet to compare miis and non-miis 'roughly' also for different loadouts/skills levels/base points.
Now this sheet can just be used as well to compare two drivers in general, the amount of actions needed for the second driver to get the same score as the first one.
Obviously on this can be build up if you want, I took this sheet from my ticket manager and after the next update in the future it will also be found there.
The most important lesson to plan is to know if a non-plus skill mii is better than a coinbox non-mii check if you can reach 170 actions (that's actually hard to know for sure).
Actually knowing the amount of actions you get is pretty difficult. You can use the base action count target in maxi's sheet for example or dkr.exe score sheet. The interesting aspect is the less actions you have near 170, the worse non-plus skill miis become meaning a player that grinds less, doesn't grind for good triple frenzies or misses actions on the track will profit less of non-plus skill miis than someone like Danny that can achieve action counts higher than the target and generally grinds a lot and plays well.
If a non-plus skill mii or a coinbox driver is better is track-dependent, specifically if you personally are able to reach 170 actions on that track.
-> A good player profits more of non-plus skill miis than the usual player.
The graph wont auto-adjust just so you know.
submitted by Napstar007 to MarioKartTour [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 00:12 i_like_the_swing Swing/blues/country upright bassist seeking lead/steel guitar player for swing jazz trio (Laguna Niguel, CA, USA)

Hello! 17 y.o. upright bass player looking to form a swing trio, seeking lead and/or steel guitar player. Must be versed in theory and be able to solo over jazz changes, moderate ability to read music is required (chord charts for rhythm player and myself, lead sheets for lead player).
I will provide all my own equipment and have a decent guitar amp and a left-handed Gretsch which I am fine with other players using. All other equipment must be provided by you, archtop and Manouche guitars preferred but any semi-hollow or acoustic is acceptable. I plan for us to rehearse for a week or two, and then (with luck) I will start finding us restaurant/coffeehouse gigs.Young folks preferred, but anyone is welcome to email or text me if you are interested. My email and phone are listed.
A little about me! My name's Matt, I'm new in orange country coming from NorCal where I studied music at gavilan college under dahveed behroozi. I'm now attending Saddleback College as a music major. I dabbled in bandleading while up north, but now that I'm taking music much more seriously I'm excited to form a professional level group. I've had a love/hate relationship with guitar my whole life, but when I discovered bass at age 14 I was hooked. My gateway to jazz came through attending Aki Kumar's blues jam, where I first met jazz players and where I began playing upright. Fun fact, I am left-handed but learned to play bass backwards (Hendrix style) so my uprights are always strung right-handed. Also, I may be young but I promise I can hold my own. Here's some of my playing, including videos from jams and my college audition:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0ywO99WD6g
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj-33Max6Ok
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JM3s6I4KRBE
submitted by i_like_the_swing to FindABand [link] [comments]


2024.05.28 23:57 Next_Truck5449 Will you be voting for $VOTEPEPE

Will you be voting for $VOTEPEPE
With the election narrative in full swing, this coin is set to pump Lots of plans for the next few weeks join the TG if you wanna see for yourself This is a steady long term project Based dev team with a lot of experience in the space If your lucky enough to see this, check us out 👀
submitted by Next_Truck5449 to memecoins [link] [comments]


2024.05.28 23:35 OkConversation2512 The Thin Red Line (Part Three)

Major Tsaryov held his breath and pressed himself tightly to the walls of the trench. All along the line his men mirrored him, keeping themselves silent and concealed in the almost pitch darkness. He could hear the enemy. They were close now, so very close to the guardsmen of the 17th.
It had finally come down to an infantry assault by the Tau and their auxiliaries. For almost three hours, xenos and Imperial artillery had duelled across the snowy wasteland. The Vostroyans had achieved some small victories, several explosions lighting up the night as the earthshakers had successfully targeted the Tau batteries. But despite these early triumphs, the Major knew that Imperial ammunition would run out sooner or later, and when it did, they would be vulnerable once more to the guns of the xenos. He also knew that an artillery duel was virtually worthless, no end to the fighting would arise from it. The enemy would have to storm the heights, just as the 17th had done.
That was what he was counting upon. Ten minutes before, Tsaryov had ordered a gradual ceasefire as the Tau bombardment had continued. He had hoped that it would convince the enemy commander that the Imperial position had been suitably softened up, to the point where an infantry advance could be sanctioned. He had been correct. Now they were coming, and his men were ready for them.
A twig snapped, so close to the Major that he almost jumped. Slowly, ever so slowly, Tsaryov peeked over the crest of the trench. What he saw was a Tau fire warrior, barely four metres away. Not just one soldier either, dozens. Maybe close to a hundred. Mainly auxiliaries, but with some Tau caste warriors mixed in to lead them. Then, upon seeing exactly what they were up against, the Major announced their presence:
“Firstborn! Fire at will!”
All along the line his men snapped into position, almost fifty lasrifles lowered. And then they fired. The first rank of Tau went down, felled by the withering volley like grain before the scythe. Las fire lit up the night as the men of the 17th unleashed a hail of shots that scorched through armour and cauterised flesh. Tsaryov saw a dozen, two dozen, almost three dozen enemy warriors fall within seconds. As much of a shock as the volley had been however, the Tau were surprisingly quick to recover. The remaining warriors dived for cover, laying down fire as they went. Tsaryov saw several plasma rounds find their mark, sending Vostroyans sprawling, most dead upon impact. As the enemy went to ground, the Major unleashed the second phase of his plan.
“Grenades!” he bellowed, and as one the firstborn hurled a wave of fragmentation grenades into the Tau position. A second passed, in almost total silence, then a series of earthshaking explosions blasted across the hillside. Great clods of dirt were thrown into the air, falling as a fine powder across Tsaryov’s face. He saw numerous Tau warriors lifted by the blasts, descending to the ground in various states of dismemberment, armour panels cracked and charred.
The remaining enemy had little stomach for the fight, having seen their numbers decimated within seconds. The human auxiliaries turned and fled, with many being cut down by the Vostroyans as soon as they emerged. To their credit, however, the Tau caste warriors steeled themselves and fought on. Evidently, the xenos has decided that Imperial positions needed more ordnance to break, as within minutes of the infantry battle beginning the enemy artillery barked into life once more. Shells and energy weapons rained down upon the Vostroyans once more, and it took all of Major Tsaryov’s skill to keep his men in position. But he knew that this battle would be short lived, the Tau batteries now far more accurate due to their troops being so close to the designated targets. But, with equal parts shock and horror, the Major heard a great roar echo across the hill and watched in stunned silence as the enemy charged.
There were more of them than the Major could count. He realised that he and his men were outnumbered at least ten to one.
“Keep firing, make them pay!” he shouted over the vox to his men, and to their credit they did. The enemy went down in droves, human auxiliaries falling to the guns of the 17th. But there was no way that the Vostroyans could hold them, there were just too many. The enemy force surged up the hill and were into the trenches within the time it took for Major Tsaryov to lower his laspistol. He fired point blank, the las round blowing a hole in the face of an auxiliary as he jumped towards him. The man’s corpse fell at the Major’s feet as he fired twice more, felling a fire warrior who pitched over the crest of the trench and rolled back down the hill. Almost all lasfire had ceased by this point, the guardsmen pressed back to their bayonets and knives. All along the trench line, his men and those of the Tau were engaged in fierce hand-to-hand combat, with the human soldiers of the enemy pinning the Vostroyans in place while the fire warriors provided supporting fire from the top of the trench wall. Tsaryov deflected the swipe of a blade with his armoured gauntlet, before lowering his pistol at his attacker and firing multiple shots into his body. Turning away from the dying soldier, the Major barely dodged the swing of a power maul that smashed his pistol from his grip. He dived beneath the return swing and grabbed a fallen lasrifle, turned it upwards, and blew the enemy warrior’s head into ruin with a full-auto burst. Staggering to his feet, Tsaryov looked around, a moment’s respite allowing him to see the full extent of the situation.
It was desperate. His men were being felled, one by one, and the enemy had almost broken through into the tunnels. If they made it into there, then the battle was over. Tsaryov realised that he had only one option left to him; the one order that he had most dreaded having to give. He turned his back upon the battle, letting his men cover him, and opened a vox-channel to the few mortar teams he had available.
“Mortars, target the trench line. Full spread, fire for effect.”
submitted by OkConversation2512 to war_for_Gryllus [link] [comments]


2024.05.28 23:29 elbirdtoe0190 Separation anxiety

For the most part my patience level is really high and I’m sorry, but stop requesting for a boarding or sitting service if you and your pup have severe separation anxiety. Or at least put on the notes that you will be texting every 30min to check on your pups well being. Typically I’ll only request sitting services if they are in a 5-10mile radius from my house and if pet owners say that their pets can be alone up to 4hrs. That way I can plan on doing other things throughout the day and not be stuck in owners house the whole time and if needed be I can always swing by quick. I just completed a service and dear lord had I known that I was going to be requested to do a lot more than what I was told via the app and meeting pet owners in person I wouldn’t have not requested the service 🤦🏽‍♂️it went from “ they are okay if they are checked on three times a day, fed twice, let out to the backyard, and tv on for the night” to “hey can you go let them out now because they look anxious? Can you swing by now because they won’t stop looking out the window? Will you make sure (pups name) collar is a bit more snug?”
submitted by elbirdtoe0190 to WagWalker [link] [comments]


2024.05.28 23:09 TrollOfTheTaiga Pruning California Oak

Hello!
I rent a small house in SoCal with a beautiful large oak tree in the backyard. Unfortunately, my landlady is very apathetic and has neglected the tree, which is likely over 100 years old. There are regulations here that limit how much you can trim or cut down trees (no trimming of branches thicker than 3 inches, for example), so the landlady thankfully can’t cut it down. She sees it as a nuisance and has otherwise paved over the entire back lot.
However, she doesn’t maintain the tree either. I’ve tried to advocate for her to have the tree trimmed of its dead undergrowth (there are a lot of dead branches under the tree’s canopy) and the branches that are starting to grow down to the ground or onto the roof. She has consistently ignored me.
In a perfect world, I would have an arborist prune the tree or the landlady would have someone do it. But I can’t get anyone to work on the tree without the landlady’s approval, and she just doesn’t care.
I’m planning to trim the small branches (nothing over an inch in diameter) that are starting to grow down to the ground, as well as the dead branches under the tree’s thriving live canopy. I want to do this the right way as much as possible, knowing I am not an expert but don’t really have a choice.
Are there any suggestions y’all might have to help me accomplish this without hurting the tree?
submitted by TrollOfTheTaiga to arborists [link] [comments]


2024.05.28 22:44 Silver_liver The Ashtapdan ch.23/43 THE ACTION PICKS UP!

chapters 1&2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Link to AO3
Gentry’s sweet cravings were getting out of hand.
The last time she had a proper dessert was almost a week ago, and if she had something to say about it, no amount of saccharine text exchanges with pretty boys was going to replace a good old sugar rush. A couple of days ago Sereen treated her to the sweetest snack she could get with her status and that piece of dried fruit was nowhere near enough to satisfy G’s sweet tooth.
So many vending machines and eateries, but not a single good bakery? Hell, even a crappy one would do at this point! She had to hunt down some glucose tonight.
After Sereen’s initial tour around the city, she went off leaving G to explore the city on her own. It was getting easier and easier. With the auglasses on, finding her way around proved pretty intuitive, not in the least thanks to the distinct chessboard-like layout of Ashtapada. Each district had a letter-number label. By remembering one’s “square code”, one could find their way back on foot or by cab in no time wherever they found themselves.
Gentry spent hours exploring the wide walking streets and little nooks that offered yet another glimpse into Ashtapadan reality. She once stumbled upon a bookshop with nothing on the shelves but blank-page tomes. The shopkeeper asked her what she was looking for and after finding out the she was a Newcomer, explained that it was a book-on-demand type of place. She would place an order for a story and he would write it for her in a matter of days.
What confused her most was the snow-white buildings of the city. Despite being made with rough porous concrete, they were drowning in lush greenery that sometimes looked like it nearly chocked the structure. Each had the same distinct feature, though, that made them all look unfinished: however tall or short was the building, the top floor always looked under construction. Though there always were the omnipresent hounds on each of the working site, there were never any cranes or scaffolding visible. The obliging auglasses offered G the answer: everything from the smallest houses to the few high rises was essentially self-producing! From what little she understood reading about this advancement, the carbon in the atmosphere was captured by special aerial filters and dissolved in some water. It later went through the pipes in the buildings’ skeleton-like armature and got sprayed on. As the water evaporated, the carbon solidified into neat coral-like blocks that formed the walls and other structures.
Well, that explained why the fumes she saw on the outskirts smoked backwards!
It was getting dark and the orderly streets came alive once G engaged her glasses that revealed the digital underside of Ashtapada again. Every business had a modest sign in the physical world that didn’t stand out on the angular facades. But there also was a hidden bright animated augmented-reality one that could compete with Broadway neon in brightness.
Signs like these weren’t just decorating the facades: the 3D ones flashing on the ground filled almost the whole field of view, too. They looked amazingly enticing in the evening dusk. Information stalls with digital assistants, huge arrows pointing at meeting points, temporary signs inviting strangers to join a club gathering — Gentry was going to gawk at every single one tonight. She came up to some of them, waving hands in the air to try and touch the flickering lights, not caring what she looked like from the outside. Ashtapadans seemed a very relaxed bunch, not putting their noses in others’ business, which felt liberating. Noting how other people in the streets interacted with 3D service bots, G came up to one of them, too.
“Hello, Gentry, how can I help you tonight?” it chirped. The hologram looked like a cute animated girl with an elaborate pink hairdo. “You can ask me a question directly or say “What can you do” to access the list of commands.”
“Hi!” G said. “Do you have a name?”
“You can call me Yukio,” it responded with a little curtsy. “I can answer any questions, show you around or chat about anything!”
Any question? It must know where the desserts were sold! On second thought, wasn’t there something more important than that? Something that brought G here in the first place.
“I’m looking for a person named Exxy Mah,” she said to the patiently smiling girl. “Is there a citizen or a newcomer with this name?”
“There is!” Yukio answered, gleefully jumping in the air. “Exxy Mah is a famous Ashtapadan, she is an advocate for healthy living. You might have seen her on posters and screens around the city.”
The woman in the picture the assistant conjured up floating in thin air showed an elderly woman. She was looking very fit for her age but it clearly wasn’t the Exxy Gentry knew.
“Hmm... That’s not her...” G said. “There has to be another.”
The girl suddenly looked on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry! It’s the only one in Ashtapada! No other Citizens or Newcomers are registered by this name!”
Did her friend change her name then?
“A friend of mine should’ve arrived here last year under the same name. Can you check where she is now?”
Yukio’s helpful attitude fell apart in an instant. Her posture became stiff like a 3D model she was and a voice void of any emotion informed, “Personal data on people of Ashtapada, including their whereabouts is protected by the privacy laws of the city. Please rephrase your search.”
A blink later, the same cute Yukio was standing in front of G again.
“Can I help with anything else?” she smiled.
Was there a way to ask this dummy in a way that would give her at least a hint about her friend?
“Ok, Yukio,” G attempted. “When did the famous Exxy Mah you mentioned arrive at Ashtapada?”
The girl flickered into a wooden statue again, “Personal data on people...”
“Ok, ok, I got it,” G waved. “Bring back the friendly assistant, you creep me out.”
“Can I help with anything else?” the model went again.
G sighed.
“Is there a place a newcomer can get something sweet, a chocolate or a cake perhaps?”
Yukio gasped indignantly, “Ashtapada has a very strict policy on stimulants! You can’t legally buy any tobacco, alcohol, products with added sugar and other such substances!”
“Such substances!” G hollered, forgetting for a second that she was talking to a lifeless simulation. “Sugar is completely harmless! It’s good for your brains you know! Can I at least ask a Сitizen to get me a snack?”
The girl crossed her arms in defiance.
“You can’t buy any dessert in Ashtapada, whatever your status, the law is for everyone. No refined sugar!”
G thought for a moment, rewinding their conversation in her memory.
“Did you say I can’t buy sugar legally?”— Gentry perked up — “Is there a black market of sweets I can go to?”
“A black market of sweets!”
Yukio stared. It was clearly the first time she had had to deal with this particular word combination. It took her a second or two to process the request.
“There’s no black market of sweets in Ashtapada,” she stated, confidently, at last.
“Ok, pinkhead,” G said, rolling her eyes. “I guess it took all candy floss in Ashtapada to make that hair.”
Annoyed at the assistant, she stomped through the bright neon figure in front of her and into the pedestrian street now full of people.
If there was a place with some glucose in this stuck-up place, she was going to sniff it out.
***
The hunt wasn’t of much success. After watching a street performance by a group of dancers, listening to an impromptu debate and taking part in a couple of opinion polls, Gentry finally felt that it had been a little too much. Even with the auglasses disengaged, he noise, the people and the boisterous crowds in the streets seemed to pour light and sound directly into her brain in an endless stream. It gave her a headache.
Calling up a map from her wristcomm with an already practised motion, she marked a place nearby that looked much quieter and had a swarm of vending machines, too.
Screw the sugar, she just needed some water now.
The place was indeed quite secluded. The narrow street started on the edge of the bustling zone she just left but didn’t seem to cut into the living district. It wasn’t used by many people, but, to G’s surprise, it seemed to be used by hounds, scurrying back and forth with parcels, trash bags and other loads of lesser identifiability.
Perhaps this little alley was shared by humans and these tireless little helpers over the course of the day? The hounds would make use of it in the night but workers would walk it to leave the residential area when the sun was up? That would explain the line of vending machines along both sides, with their tempting lights that invited to at least take a look.
Sadly, their insides weren’t as tempting as the signs promised.
G walked past the rows of healthy corn-based snacks, rows of dried fruit packets, lines of non-edible stuff like auglasses upgrades and finally ended up in front of a drinks machine. It immediately identified her by scanning the device on her wrist and merrily chimed a hello. G frowned. The few options that were available to a newcomer with an embarrassingly low status like hers immediately got illuminated, hiding more enticing bottles and cans in relative darkness.
No need to rub it in, you soulless beast!
But... there was a can that looked a little sweeter than others. Perhaps it was because of its sickly-pink colour, or a pattern vaguely reminding of chewing gum printed along its rims together with the fact that it was unavailable to pheasants like her, but something told Gentry that it probably was it. A sweet drink she was after.
Or, at least, sweetish.
Against better judgment, she tapped the touchglass to order it.
Nothing. The little screen insisted that she must choose what was available.
She scanned her comm again.
Nothing.
She engaged the little flashlight in her glasses and looked at the can more carefully.
Was it... a little askew?
It definitely was.
Its lower rim was half-hanging in the air, the release mechanism lazily holding it in place.
A good shove...
A good shove would probably drop the can down.
Wouldn’t it?
G looked around and immediately felt a pang of guilt.
She hadn’t done anything, officer!
Yet.
No people, just a couple of smaller hounds rhythmically clip-clopping along the dim alley.
Should she?
The can looked at her from behind the glass like a captive princess, waiting to be rescued from the agonizing imprisonment. Someone to grab its slender body, deflower it with a skilled motion and drain its sweet nectar in a couple of gulps.
Hang in there, my sweet prize, your saviour is coming!
Another hopefully inconspicuous glance around confirmed there were still no people in the alley.
Gentry stepped to the side and leaned on the machine, estimating its weight.
Not too bad.
She leaned in heavier, feet pushing into the ground, legs and back straining against the cool metal.
A little more, and...
One of the little hounds stopped and looked G over, like a dog that saw a little furry animal that could be torn apart.
What, little buddy? Just taking a break. Is it against the law to lean on vending machines?
Gentry urged the walking robot to move along with a little shove of her foot and immediately felt a little bad when it obediently left without making much fuss.
Why the guilt? It wasn’t like she kicked the little guy!
Still, Gentry felt emboldened by the little victory against the mindless machine.
Surely, the frigid castle that held her sugary princess shouldn’t be of much trouble either.
With a renewed wind in her sails, she stepped back a couple of meters and slammed her whole body into the automate that answered with a promising clanking. Another good push and the visual assessment confirmed that the pink princess was nearly saved. Gentry smashed into the box one last time and the can that she longed for finally jangled down and into the pick-up box.
Gentry’s exhilaration lasted only for a second, however. Before she could retrieve the can she lusted after, something much bigger than a modest dog-sized carrier hound filled her field of vision. A larger four-legged robot that also had something fastened on its back and belly. It stood motionless, its front camera glinting in the uneven light like a bird of prey’s, watching G as she stood up after the impact, unsure what to do.
Was it a police hound or something? Unlikely. There were no marks on it that would identify it as such. What was its problem then?
It’s alright, mate, be on your way now.
G slowly moved her hand towards the pick-up box and almost grabbed the cool can when the hound gently shoved her hand aside with its boxy head.
What’s your problem, pal?
Gentry considered if it was worth it being accused of theft so soon after arriving at Ashtapada. Was it really that bad though? She could always claim it just dropped there by itself.
She pushed the hound’s stump of a head back, covering its camera with her palm, reaching for the can again. This time, as if blinded by her hand, the hound didn’t do anything to stop it.
Ah, easy. These machines were too dumb.
Gentry stepped back, completely sure that the matter was settled, and popped the can open. Its sweet scent filled her nostrils with a seductive promise. But the hound had other plans. Once his camera was uncovered, it seemed to focus on the offending drink again and made to awkwardly sway its head to kick it out of G’s hands.
Excuse me? What about the Laws of Robotics, mate? Rings a bell?
It wasn’t hard to dodge the clumsy assault, but the sheer size of the robot made G uneasy. If it seriously wanted to harm her, it could just stomp on her foot and shatter the bones there like fragile glass.
Better get out of here then.
Finally making a sip of the promising nectar, Gentry moved back towards the light opening of the alley, flanking the beast at a respectful distance before scrunching her face in disgust.
Shit! The drink wasn’t sweet in the slightest! It was all a lie! Vile flavourings! She was cheated! Her lovely princess lured her with a siren’s song and stabbed her right in the heart!
Disillusioned, G gripped the can tighter as if in retaliation and picked up the pace.
The hound wasn’t having it though. Surprisingly agile on its metal hooves, it appeared in front of Gentry, blocking her way out. The robots usually looked more like docile cows or donkeys, especially when they were loaded with cargo, but this one, now... looked like a real hound. Its posture suddenly squat, the camera glinting once again, it definitely wasn’t going to let the transgressor go that easily.
Shit, shit! Had it seen her face? Had it scanned her comm? Was she going to prison now?
Panic rose in Gentry’s brain like a suffocating wave.
Run? Return the can back? It wasn’t even good enough to be worth the trouble!
Tentatively, without turning her back on the beast, G made a couple of steps back to escape in the other direction but the robot matched her stride, his dark presence looming in the narrow pathway.
Something like this had happened before. A similar quiet spot in her city. A similar evening that started off great but ended in a disaster. The same impending danger, the same feeling of helplessness, a similar... weapon in her hand?
Right. The brawler that attacked her and Pete at The Clockface was human and was taken down by some boiling hot water, and this hound also had eyes. Only one in fact. And if the can is sturdy enough...
Brace yourself now, my princess, it’s time for sacrifices.
With a well-aimed swing, Gentry launched the can into the thin glass of the hound’s camera eye, turning to run for her life at the same time. A crashing sound proved that she succeeded but there was no time to check what the robot would do next. As usual, the time seemed to stretch into a sickening slime and her legs didn’t feel real, but G knew that outside her reeling head everything was moving properly so she had no time to lose.
Run away, mix into the crowd, save your hide.
Feel worthless later.
submitted by Silver_liver to RoleReversal [link] [comments]


http://rodzice.org/