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2024.05.18 23:02 Ok_Unit_8242 25% off for 398 apps

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2024.05.18 22:58 FedusDM Depeche Mode fans’ favourite albums outside of Depeche Mode. Hounds of Love and Floodland have been added (day 21)

No compilations/EPs, the top comment is counted, one album per artist.
There has been a tie, so two albums have been added today.
Also, this is not a rule, but it would be great if tried to submit a maximum of 3 albums under one post, because it’s really annoying when one person sumbmits even 12 albums all under one post.

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2024.05.18 22:50 saltyblueberry25 Tinfoil master thesis on DFV meme-story

This is my in-depth notes while watching the full length dfv meme video compilation by roaring pika this morning.
https://x.com/roaringpika/status/1791834694704591155?s=46
It’s an hour long and way easier to understand all together like this.
These notes come from watching every ppshow this week and taking my favorite bits of tinfoil from the community into one fairly simple look into the story dfv is telling us without getting too deep on possible tinfoil, it’s just laid out plain and simple here.
Tldr; this is a very long post. I think it starts with dfv’s final yolo update (fine I’ll do it myself) and how he’s been feeling for the first 30 minutes of the memes and then in the last half it switches to, fine I’ll do it again and then full of straight confirmation foil that we’ve been right about the bear trap, bbby, Teddy, and baby all along. Then he says we’re all good, be zen and says goodbye for now.
Here goes:
Fine I’ll do it myself, Cat heartbeat, Wolverine mad. (I think this marks his Final yolo update and of course doubled as the hype to start this week off with a bang.)
I think the first half of the movies are all about the first squeeze and how he was both dfv and kitty, how they were talking trash about him, how we found out about the baskets “you move I move” the battle scenes were all about price action up and down, everything was green and red, and the running memes are about the stock running up and sad memes are when the stock goes down.
About 30 minutes in someone asks, “where you been”, he says “waiting”, what about getting caught? “All part of the plan.”
Then there’s usual suspects movie with the goofy meme “I’ll fuckin do it again”.
——
Then Jake texting Keith, is this about our Jake with bbby and the story pp had about the gay bar at the first pulte event? So funny with the guy with 600 memes and basically joking that he became a full blown psycho.
Tell me where the freaks at pump up music. Psyched on us after the meet up?
Guy looks out the window, then the Teddy in a chair (might have just been a response to Cramer being a smartass). Then Hank (Jim Carrey) starts to lose it as the stock price keeps going down, his alter ego comes out.
Truman show, he’s trying to escape, they say “he’ll turn back he’s too afraid”. They hit him with everything they’ve got but he knows it’s all fake. He says, “is that the best you can do??”
Fury is a game where every boss fight feels like the final boss. They taunt you, they demand you get back in your prison cell, they pound you into a pulp and they even make you doubt the righteousness of your own quest towards freedom. But the soundtrack man, it keeps egging you on. To whoop some ass! PP theme music.
The Bullet one talking about time, cause and effect, “don’t try to understand it, just feel it”. “Instinct, got it.”
Morpheus teaching neo it’s all fake. Just before that scene he says, “you think that’s air you’re breathing?” … “Again!”
Alice says “But I don’t want to go among mad people.” The cat replies, “Most everyone’s mad here. You may have noticed I’m not all there myself.” Neo waking up again in the 4th movie.
Alice going down a rabbit hole into wonderland.. psychedelic music and dancing.
Next scene guy running and falls over, music says “I lost myself.”
Shawshank, they find the tunnel he made. In 2021 Kitty escaped prison. All they found of him was some Reddit posts, tweets, and an old live stream. Investing is the study of pressure and time. That’s all it takes really, pressure and time. That and a keen goddamn activist.
A man will do anything to keep his mind busy in prison. Turns out kittys favorite activity was handing out memes, a handful at a time (the dirt for the tunnel). Kitty did as he was told, buffed that financial education to a high mirror shine. (I think he’s been getting ready for something big and these memes are just a countdown.)
Bruce Willis. No, THIS is the Kansas City shuffle. (An advanced form of confidence trick where the mark is aware of being involved in a swindle and believes that he or she can outsmart the swindler; however, this is all part of the trick, and by attempting to retaliate, the mark unwittingly assists the con artist.) Hedge funds are the mark and dfv/rc are playing a con, the bear trap?
Pay attention to what I say, I choose my words carefully and I never repeat myself. The cat looks at the camera.
Michael from the office - It’s Britney bitch. And I am back. Cut to Britney Spears - I must confess I still believe. When I’m not with you I lose my mind. Give me a sign (like how we’re always asking for a sign?? (with the alien g from signs all red like a gme logo giving birth). Hit me BABY one more time!
Goosebumps all the papers fly out of the briefcase right when we get like 200 new dockets clawing back money from 90 days before bbby bk. Bear beware… you’re in for a scare…
Then it’s Abbi from Broad city dancing all over the place and she’s obsessed with bed bath and beyond in the show. There’s also the scene where the other girl is dancing behind a colored blanket with the same logo as HBC and then the next scene she’s tied up. Then they’re dancing again.. and naked then then only in shorts. Naked shorts?
We’ll never survive unless we’re a little crazy. The modern investor unleashes the animal within to take on the big city - that’s gotta be us apes?
What kind of person are you? The kind that sees signs, sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Is it possible that there are no coincidences? The kid holds up a baby monitor. They find a crop circle and it’s two GameStop logos turned in different directions (maybe rc turned GameStop around) and then another one with a long line and a baby gme logo (is gme about to have a baby?!)
Why make something disposable like an investment thesis when you can make something that lasts forever, like a GameStop meme? (It says “Reality” at the bottom of this clip, lol)
Jack Nicholson in the shining (music playing it’s just a matter of time before I lose my mind it’s also a place in ready player one where they have to take the leap not taken, the leap of faith, a kiss). “Make a lot of memes today?” Lol
Can’t stop what’s coming. Kicks some ass.
I got both hands off the wheel, the cops are coming. I listen to the music with no fear, you can hear it too if you’re sincere. Cuz I’m a punk rocker yes I am. (song: punkrocker by the teddybears)
Rock ain’t about doing things prefect! Who can tell me what it’s really about? Sticking it to the man! If you wanna rock, you gotta break the rules.
Two cars racing, one plays chicken with a truck and then cut to bojack horseman talking on stage right before they almost crash (stalking horse? Looks just like he horse from 1, 2 switch that GameStop tweeted the minute the stalking horse deadline was up.)
Now you may only see a pile of boring forms and numbers, but I see a story (us going through the dd and maybe holly etlin talking about there’s a story here but it’s not mine to tell)
Listen to this song, it’ll change your life.
(Song is don’t fear the reaper - so don’t be afraid of death, funny because of the cowbell, maybe cowbell is involved in the tinfoil but at the end of the song lyrics not shown in the clip they say: don't be afraid, Come on, baby (and she had no fear) And she ran to him (then they started to fly) They looked backward and said goodbye)
Big Lebowski dude is investigating and finds the drawing of Jackie tree horn and it’s just a guy with a raging erection with the name cohen at the top of the paper. (I think this means rc is ready to fuck)
Jason borne is telling the run Lola run chick he can’t run with her, he has to be careful because people are after him. He says I gotta figure it out. She says well then figure it out. They drive into a parking garage through the wrong way (where it should say exit it says exit strategy and he enters through the exit, parks and walks away, as in “what’s an exit strategy”)
Then it looks like maybe him and rc just waiting and dealing with some bs.
Then there’s the Backstage roaring cat perhaps. The girl says ima stick beside him.
Not sure about everyone shooting each other but someone said maybe because he wrote it and manifested it?
Then the dress one “this is art, get it?” Was apparently two minutes after hey Ross and some others were talking about that dress on a space call.
I’m a United States gamestop memer. Aren’t those the guys that go crazy and come back with an arsenal of memes and blast everybody? Sometimes. Price action keeps coming and coming… and then it’s GameStop earnings week! (6/5 aftermarket)
Always sunny scene maybe like a peek into how crazy he’s been feeling not being able to talk to anyone for three years?
He can’t speak or he’ll get in trouble.
Alladin scene (alladin name of trading algo. He also says next time I’ll use a nom de plume - pen name) all I gotta do is jump! (The theme of taking a leap of faith again)
Dreyfus billionaire family (no idea but she’s dancing having a great time)
You can’t handle the truth (code red has to do with a worm/virus, maybe they’re about to unleash something that destroys several companies that are short? And it’s pretty funny)
Beavis and butthead sex for dummies (to me it says rc and dfv are ready to fuck but also cex means centralized exchanges which are also for dummies)
Oceans 11, (theme is a heist. We’re all looking at each other like what’s about to happen and then the last guy is just looking at boobs, seems to describe a group like us lol)
Bernard from westworld can’t see the bear thesis (because in the movie he’s programmed not to but irl it’s because there isn’t a thesis!)
“That’s not a thesis,” pulls out huge knife, “that’s a thesis.”
The gme galaxy on the cat collar says deepfuckingvalue so I think he’s saying it’s still deep value and we often made memes about the black hole of gme absorbing the rest of the market into it so maybe that’s it.
Whats in the box? What’s in the box??? (What’s the plan??? RC not telegraphing his plans)
Guy looks at all the memes - she asks “is it not good?” “It is miraculous.” (That’s us loving every second of this. Thank you dfv.)
And so.. you just RAN. Forest gump runnin’ (gme gonna just keep runnin’)
you go backwards but then you go forwards again… you go backwards… then he walks out of the woods.. (are we out of the woods now? Done going backwards?)
Zen philosophy kid breaks leg, oh that’s bad, oh now it’s good etc - (I think he’s saying to be zen, we’re gonna win, but this message goes deeper. We don’t know what things are good or bad. Breaking your leg isn’t good or bad, those are just judgements in our mind. We don’t know what the future holds. It could be a good thing or a bad thing, we can only accept things the way they are without judgement.)
We’ll see.
Then the boy is saying bye to ET, the music says I’ve really enjoyed my stay, but I must be movin on. (DFV going silent again until this all plays out.)
He’s saying “we fuckin won fellas! Be zen, and we’ll see this all play out soon enough.”
I think the heavy use of good movies and music and video games may also be hinting at gamestops nft marketplace May reopen to sell those 3 things as NFTs by partnering with blockbuster and some musicians.
LFG see you regards on the moon

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2024.05.18 22:46 flaweddemonicgirl Where to place bed & desk in small room?

I’m trying to figure out how to place my queen sized bed in this room! Does this orientation make sense? Would you turn it a different way? I’m also shopping for a desk to put in here, but I’m not sure what size or where to put it. The only other furniture in the room will be a desk chair and a small nightstand. Any advice is greatly appreciated!!!

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2024.05.18 22:46 SamMorrisHorror Them Devils Part 2

Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.

submitted by SamMorrisHorror to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 22:45 Hot_Reach_7138 Which female character works better as a villain? Malty S. Melromarc or the Queen of Blades/Sarah Kerrigan (from StarCraft)?

Which female character works better as a villain? Malty S. Melromarc or the Queen of Blades/Sarah Kerrigan (from StarCraft)?

Malty S. Melromarc
Sarah Kerrigan (Zerg form)
Sarah Kerrigan (Human form)
If you want to know more about Sarah Kerrigan, I will explain more about the crimes she commits and the redeeming/sympathetic qualities she has below.
Here is a list of crimes committed by Sarah Kerrigan:

As a Terran, she served as an assassin for both the Confederacy and later the Sons of Korhal, killing whoever her supiriors ordered her and even participated in the assassination of Arcturus Mengsk's family.
She started killing Raynor's men as soon as they appeared to rescue her on Char and even destroyed his base.
She killed many Dark Templar when they also came to Char and tried to kill Tassadar.
She pretended to ally with the Protoss, so they could help her deal with the Second Overmind which was taking away control over the Zerg from her but she brainwashed their Matriarch behind their backs. When Aldaris found out the truth, he rebelled against the Matriarch which makes Kerrigan responsible for a mini civil war among the Protoss.
She killed Aldaris when he was about to expose her secret to the other Protoss even though they intended to spare him.
She pretended to ally with Arcturus Mengsk, James Raynor and Fenix against the UED, but in fact she only used them to defeat the UED because they threatened her dominance over the Koprulu Sector. After their victory, she betrayed her allies after they had fulfilled their purpose by launching surprise attacks against their bases, massacred their armies and killed Fenix and General Duke in the process.
She blows up the power grid of the Nerazim capital as a distraction which cost the lives of thousands of Protoss, so she could kidnap her.
Her brainwashing of the Nerazim Matriarch conditioned the latter to be Kerrigan's slave. The Matriarch was deprived her of her free will and was kidnapped by Kerrigan. This is presented as a fate considered worse than death for the Matriarch.
Later, Kerrigan uses the brainwashed Matriarch to order Zeratul to kill the Second Overmind which Zeratul does because he is loyal to his ruler. Kerrigan plays twisted games with Zeratul by promising she would allow the Matriarch to return to her people if Zeratul kills the Second Overmind, only to reveal that the Matriarch is so brainwashed that she doesn't want to go back to her people and instead wants to stay with Kerrigan.
After Zeratul kills the Matriarch to save her from her horrific fate, Kerrigan allows him to leave unharmed but not out of mercy but because she derives sadistic pleasure that he would be forced to live the rest of his life with the thought that he was forced to kill his own Matriarch because of Kerrigan's own actions.
She massacres the entire UED fleet even after they had surrendered. Kerrigan decides to make this more "fun" by allowing them to escape just to see how far they would go and then she unleashes the Zerg after them.
She has killed billions of people by having her Zerg conquer entire planets and then slaughter their population.
She gives her captives to her minion Abathur, who is in charge of perfecting the Zerg units, so he may use the captives for his horrible experiments where they eventually die.
She spreads a Zerg infestation on different planets which infects living people and turns them into zombies that suffer and are deprived of their free will. They can only serve Kerrigan and fulfill her demands.
She attempts to commit complete genocide on the Human and Protoss races.
At some point she kidnapped a human girl, infested her body and merged her legs with the walls of her Leviathan, so that Kerrigan could have someone she could store her memories into.
She tries to kill Zeratul when he goes to Ulaan to take the fragments of a prophecy she wants from him and wipes out High Templar Karass and all his warriors when they stand in her way to give Zeratul time to escape.
She tries to kill all of Jim Raynor's men as well as Valerian Mengsk's men when they launch an assault against her on Char to cure her and stop her rampage.
She wipes out an entire Protoss colony where she kills thousands of Protoss because she is afraid that if they inform the Golden Armada about her, they would kill her.
She infects one of the captured Protoss with a larva which bursts from the belly and kills the host in a painful way. Kerrigan uses said larva to infiltrate a Protoss ship, making it burst open the body of the female Protoss once she is onboard the ship. Then, the larva grows to be a Zerg Queen and she massacre the entire crew of the vessel in Kerrigan's name.
She kills a wounded Dominion General Horace Warfield by driving a beam sticking from his body all the way through even though his torso even though he had previously participated in her rescue operation where she gets deinfested and turned into human because he angers her when he mentions Jim Raynor and asks her what he would think of her. Granted, the reason why she battled him and his army was because he served Arcturus Mengsk, but still, he is portrayed as an honorable man who cares about his soldiers unlike Mengsk and he was at her mercy when she kills him.
On one occasion, she infests several garrisons of Dominion soldiers and sends them against their comrades, using them as cannon fodder.

And here is a list of her redeeming/sympathetic qualities:

Her worst crimes happen while she was corrupted by the Zerg and transformed into the Queen of Blades which means she has moral agency issues. She also has moral agency issues during the time when she assassinates people for the Confederacy because they had subjected her to neural resocialization and also regularly drugged her to keep her loyal and unable to resist their orders.
She has an extremely tragic backstory.
- She was psychically gifted which caused a lot of problems for her from a young age. She was able to read all the private thoughts of other people which caused her to be disgusted by them in general and as a result became introverted and withdrawn and had a hard time making new friends.
- Because she possessed such tremendous powers that she couldn't properly control them, her mother died and her father was left with a permanent brain damage, which caused him to eventually die as well, when Kerrigan accidentally unleashed her powers at the age of 7 which left her heartbroken and guilt-ridden.
- She is then captured by the government to be abused, tortured, experimented upon, drugged and trained as a merciless assassin. One of her instructors would even go so far as to bring Kerrigan's father and threaten the young girl that he would inject her father with a tumor-causing chemical that would slowly kill him if she doesn't display her psionic powers for him. She was also neurally resocialized, which means she is physically incapable of refusing a direct order from a superior, and her memory was regularly mind-wiped, so that she would remain loyal to the Confederacy.
- She was then released by Arcturus Mengsk and his rebel group, the Sons of Korhal. She served him faithfully for years but on one mission, she gets betrayed by him and is left to be killed by the Zerg, after she speaks out against his plan to lure the Zerg to the inhabited planet of Tarsonis. The Zerg transform her into the Queen of Blades through painful mutations, corrupting her mind which causes her to think like a Zerg rather than like a human and to become callous, cruel and genocidal.
She cares about some people in her life:
- She loves her parents and that love is never subverted and her losing them both has left her heartbroken.
- She has a friendship with a fellow rebel Somo Hung before he is killed by Confederate soldiers because she admires him and thinks he is genuine and good. The two of them even have romantic feelings for each other. When he dies in her arms after being shot by Lieutenant Rumm, she gets enraged and brutally ends the life of Somo's killer.
- She genuinely loves Jim Raynor and on several occasions risks her own life to protect him and is deeply hurt when he rejects her after she had rescued him because she had chosen to become the Queen of Blades yet again, though the two of them still fix their relationship in the end. It's heavily implied that by the end of the series she has come to take him with her after becoming a Xel'Naga and that she ends up being with him.
She has many moments where she displays moral standards or has Pet the Dog moments when her mind is not corrupted by the Zerg:
- She is disgusted by Mengsk's plan to use psi emitters to lure the Zerg to a planet as populous as Tarsonis which is what actually leads to Mengsk betraying her.
- When Abathur tells her that as the Queen of Blades she had given him living test subjects to experiment on, Kerrigan tells him that they won't be doing any more experiments on people.
- When some of her Zerg ask her for permission to slaughter the crew of a Terran ship, she refuses them. When Abathur suggests that Alexei Stukov should be killed since he is of no use to them, Kerrigan is angry and refuses his request.
- She allows wounded enemy soldiers to be evacuated by stopping her Zerg from chasing them after their General Horace Warfield begs her to let them go and tries to keep her Zerg away from civilian centers in order to limit the casualties among the civilian population.
- When one of her minions, Zagara, expresses a desire to sadistically torture the captive Protoss Lasarra, Kerrigan forbids her to do it.
- Even though she implanted the Protoss Lasarra with a parasyte which burst from her body and killed her, so Kerrigan could infiltrate a Protoss ship and kill its inhabitants, Kerrigan only did it because she believed she had no other choice to survive and she apologises to Lasarra before implanting her with the parasyte. In addition, she later defends Lasarra's memory in front of her Zerg minions, stating that Lasarra has died bravely by attempting to warn her comrades and Kerrigan also proclaims she would kill anyone who stands in her way but that doesn't mean she would enjoy it.
She feels remorse for her actions after being deinfested, redeems herself and saves the entire universe from the Dark God, Amon, by becoming a Xel'Naga and using her new powers killing him. She later uses her powers to help grow life on previously barren planets in the Koprulu Sector.
Kerrigan shows clear insecurities and is introverted and withdrawn and displays vulnerabilities about people not trusting her and about her dark past which are played for sympathy. The fact that she is a telepath and is able to read people's thoughts doesn't help matters with finding more friends because her ability to see people's deepest secrets makes her disgusted with them most of the time. She has troubles making friends and the only people she becomes close with in her entire life are Jim Raynor and Somo Hung because they are the only people she trusts.

So, after reading all this information about Kerrigan, who would you say works better as villain?

submitted by Hot_Reach_7138 to shieldbro [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 22:38 yakatya86 It's not fair.

It's been 2 1/2 years since COVID took my dad. My cousin got married today and her dad is a pastor so not only did he walk her down the aisle but he did the whole wedding ceremony too. My partner and I have been trying to make some plans for our own future and the only way my dad will be at my wedding is in a stupid photo on an empty chair. I'm so angry and heartbroken and despite the fact that I'm surrounded by a great family and friends support network, all of whom also continue to grieve the loss of my dad too, I feel so freaking alone.

submitted by yakatya86 to GriefSupport [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 22:25 Turbulent-Star8858 Why did Bridget become the Queen of hearts.

Descendants the Rise of Red is coming soon. One thing we know is that Red and Chloe are going back in time for whatever reasons and they meet Bridget (the young Queen of Hearts) before she was all evil and stuff.
She literally goes from 💖👑 to 🖤💔.
So I really feel like Ella (young Cinderella) is involved, at least indirectly. If you saw the new images that dropped about more than a week ago, you can see there’s some animosity between the two (Cinderella and QOH) as adults. However, they seemed to be besties when they were younger. My theory’s that Bridget (young queen of hearts) did something to ulianna. Not something mean but maybe something that she thought would have been nice but just embarrassed her (like cancelling one of her evil plans, or idk, maybe tell the whole school ulianna has a pure heart despite what she thinks, causing ulianna to be embarrassed...) Ofc, ulianna had to revenge, so she sets a plan to do whatsoever to Bridget (song Perfect Revenge????) and they trick Ella into doing whatever, causing Bridget to feel betrayed and becoming the woman she is today!!

submitted by Turbulent-Star8858 to Descendants [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 22:13 OrlonDogger A Witch at Midnight - Chapter 16

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When I wake up the next day, my head is swirling with questions. As I get up from my bed and go to clean myself, I can’t help but question everything! Did last night actually happen? I am pretty sure it did, but it all felt so bizarre… and wonderful! There’s a planetarium in the city, and it is magical in the most literal sense of the word! There are books on magic there, too! So I can probably start studying and learning more next time I visit!

Speaking of books… I have something to check there, don’t I?

As soon as I am out of the bathroom I go to the living room to get my pills and then, I start passing the pages of Humiko’s book. As I reach the ‘Epilogue’ section, I confirm to my horror that the words have completely disappeared.

In a panic, fearing the worst, I check my notes… oh, good, those were still here.

“What, were you fearing they would simply disappear too? Idiot.”

“Hey, with magic we really know nothing. It could have happened!”

I do feel a little silly but, yeah. For all we know, it could have happened. The point is that it didn’t!

Breathing way easier now, I sit down on one of the couches and sigh. Picking up my phone, I can confirm that it's Friday and it’s already eleven past noon. I guess this time I am justified in sleeping so much? But at the same time, I can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Because you’re being lazy, even with your free time.”

With another deep sigh, I try to ignore the voices and just look straight up at the ceiling, tapping my chin for a moment.

How do we proceed from here?

Pelafina said I shouldn’t visit the Elysium early, because it gets full of people. I wonder how true that is… actually, I wonder how true anything she said was.

“Since when are you this distrustful?”

I don’t know. I don’t even know why I lied to her in the first place, but I just felt that this phrase, the one long complete phrase I managed to translate, is far more important than I know. I can’t share it… I actually don’t want to share anything with this lady?

“She will probably send the Cloaks if you stop cooperating though.”

That much I know, and I hate it. She has all the control over the situation!

“There’s one thing she can’t control though. She has no idea about your internet activity now, does she?”

… Good point. I have to focus on that!

I actually have to get back to GalaxyTaco, too! See what he's been doing and all that!

“But before all that, breakfast.”

Ah, right. Almost forgot… although, wouldn’t it be better to just ask for lunch at this point?

“Fair.”

Yes! Time for a burger.

“They feel blander and blander every time you buy one. Why even bother?”

Because they are still delicious, and more importantly, they are cheap and fast!

I quickly order a special Bisontian burger, with extra cheese of course, and then sit back down at the table, connecting my computer to the TER and tapping away a message at GalaxyTaco, to let them know I am up. Then, I write down my discoveries in the file I’m keeping. I’ll transcribe them to the notepad later.

I am adding the symbols (which I’ve learned are called Runes after a visit to the Elysium), meanings and effects I’ve learned. I’ve also learned that I can create Glyphs, which are combinations of Runes to create different effects. I wonder if they are phrases in the language!

Speaking of. They don’t even know it’s a language, they just seem to assume the symbols have effects and that’s it! Maybe they use it, but they haven’t fully grasped the implications yet.

That feels surprisingly shallow though. Just how much knowledge do these people have of magic? Is magic a recent discovery?

Or is there something else keeping people ignorant…?

The burger arrives not too long after I am done writing. I eat it while ruminating on the subject a bit further. They are not idiots, are they? To me, the first thing that comes to my mind when seeing symbols if they are part of a bigger language or something like that. Then again, maybe the lack of translation dissuaded them from experimenting further?

Stuff is not fitting as nicely as I wish…

I am about to write a little more when suddenly, I am added to a group in my messenger service. GalaxyTaco is alive! But not only them! There’s two other people in the conversation too.

Panic ensues, at least for a moment.

“Okay. Just keep calm.” I tell to myself. “Take a deep breath… phew… and let’s do this.”

My fingers are preparing to write some quick and tasteless introduction, when suddenly someone beats me to the punch.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: HIIIIIII!! ^0^!!

Oh no. A weeb, and a very strong one at that. I can feel her aura, her reiatsu, pushing down on me like a wave of augmented gravity. There are two chances here: I either get along real well with this person, or we hate each other on sight. There’s no middle ground among us.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: don’t be shy! :3 we’re friends here, I swear!

Well they are being real nice at least. Could be worse, they could be souseiseki.

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): yo, you there?

Who the hell are these people!? I assume they are friends of GalaxyTaco, right? I really want to be patient but, damn it, new people get me nervous so easily…

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Hi there, hi! n.nUu sorry, this whole deal took me by surprise.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: ohhhh it is fine! uwu gal-kun told us everything!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: you must be so scared Dx I know I was when I got started!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Well it has certainly been a journey, heheh n.n but I’ve managed.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I found the Elysium last night so, at least there’s that!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good job, that’s a big advancement actually
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): next you gotta find the clinic, though
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: There’s a clinic too? O.o
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): yep. but we’ll explain all that later
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i’m canny btw. cannedtea at the forum, remember me?

My face burns a little bit when remembering this guy. I wasn’t expecting to find him again so quickly.

“Gay.”

Shut up.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: the name’s Aoi! ^0^/ UwU28 at the forum!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: sorry I didn’t comment your topic, i am a bit shy xwxUu
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: It’s all fine, no worries n.n I’m Tav! But you two probably know that already
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): it bears repeating, girl. it bears repeating.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yeah! ^^/
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: alright I’m back! sorry I was seeing grandma to bed heheh

I sigh in relief, cleaning the sweat off my brow. Thanks saints, this was going to be a little too much for me to handle alone!

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: oh hey gal-kun ~
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: reading up I see you’re all introduced, good good!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: now I just gotta introduce the plan to you Tav, so pay attention!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I’m ready! o.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: alright, so
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: to avoid 82’s wrath?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: canny here will be your voucher.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: huh?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: just put him in your profile and he’ll cover for you.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: And you’re okay with that, Canny? ;w; really!?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): eyeup, don’t worry girl. I gotchu.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: canny-kun and mort-sama covered for me when I just got in too :3 he’s the best!

For a moment I blink. Huh? Covered for Aoi? Does that mean they are also a Bastard Mage? What does that mean? Did they just find the link somewhere, too?

Questions for later, I guess.

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Thank you so much Canny! ;w;
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): no prob bob
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): is it chill if I add you? you seem cool
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah, of course! :3 Add away! You too, Aoi-chan.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: EEEEE! Arigatou!! ^w^ <3 <3
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: oh yeah that reminds me.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: Aoi, ain’t you forgetting something?
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: ah right!!! Tavy! what are your pronouns? o.o!

What?

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: you put you’d rather not say your gender and that’s so cool! I wanna know what to call you though! uwu
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: if that’s okay of course ^.^
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: Aoi that is NOT what I meant damn it!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): nono, she’s right.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): sorry i kept callin you girl
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: not you too canny… focus!

I have never been asked that before… I mean, I have, by computers. But by people, it feels… odd.

I like it.

“You’re going to start with your delusions again?”

“They can identify as anything. Stop being so harsh!”

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: … I think I will go with she/her.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Is that okay? n.n
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): girl, don’t ask US
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): ask yourself
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): not the mean voice of anxiety, not the shit your guardians told ya
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): are YOU okay with it?

I feel the words pierce my chest for a moment. I gasp for air, my eyes opening a little more.

“This is all just play pretend. Don’t take it so much to heart.”

Shut up.

“What!?”

I said shut up. This time, this is for me. I decide this.

“You little ungrateful asshole…”

I want this. This makes me feel good and I will seize it. And you can go kiss my ass, you hear me!?

“...”

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: … Yeah. Yeah, I think I am okay with it n//n
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): atta girl
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): it’s chill to call you a girl right?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah yeah, I like it! n.n
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yayayay Tavy-chan! :3
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: huh. that’s unexpectedly wholesome…
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: but let’s focus! Aoi! do you have the book?
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: right here boss! o.o7

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!! has sent you bastard_recipe_book.pdf
Accept?

Huh? A pdf? I hesitate for a moment but, hell, maybe it’s magic and magic can’t get viruses or something. I just click it.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: this is the rulebook for us Bastards, don’t tell nobody about it though OoO!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: it’s a seecret~
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: A secret book… now that’s cool uwu
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): man, tav’s first secret
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): granny get the camera
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: lol
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: no but really, read it, study it well
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: it’s all vital.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: will do! I’ll print it and get to it right now
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: NO!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: TAVY-CHAN WAIT
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): wait a sec tav
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Huh? O.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: don’t print that one!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yeah you can’t print magic books, it’s risky
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): the runes can activate and shit would go boom
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Oh, okay o.o
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Man I hate reading on the computer! ;w;
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: sorry tavy-chan ;w;!! but that’s the only way!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: yeah… anyways, I gotta go to bed, real badly.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: I trust you got it from here right?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yep! n.n
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: byeeee everyone!! uwu see you in dejima!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): see you around

I sigh and slowly lean back on my chair. That was intense, way too intense… but I am smiling. Really, this is some proper progress! I finally have tools to work on my own! Maybe I can even translate some more after learning magic!

“Are you sure that’s all you’re happy about?~”

… Shut up. Don’t look too deep into the whole ‘pronoun’ thing.

I am opening the file I got when, suddenly, another message hits me.

It’s from Canny!

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): hey tav
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): if you don’t wanna read it on computer you can get it physical.

Whuh?

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): you said you found an elysium, was it in a library?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah! o.o
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): thought so
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): look through the mundane part of the library, specifically in the section where you get cooking recipes
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): see if you can find a cheap notebook that says ‘MAGIC’ in it.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): open it, say ‘jantar mantar’ to it, and that’s your ticket.

My eyes light up. A secret book, hidden under the cloak’s noses like that? That’s perfect!

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): the book’s written in draconic, which basically means only mages can read the real shit and you can’t destroy it
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait what? O.o Draconic? Are dragons a thing here?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): not anymore they ain’t
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Aww :c
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait,I can’t destroy it? O.o No matter how much I try?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i mean, you can, but it won’t do nothin
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): don’t worry about it
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ok! n.n but hey I don’t know Draconic D:!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): don’t worry about it girlie
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yay! n.n I will go get it then
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): get some other books too, in case you’re being tailed.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good luck tav
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Thank you Canny!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah! I will be on my phone so don’t send me magic stuff for a while, okay?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): gonna teach you the glyph for your phone later.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yipee!! n.n
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah hell, sorry for that úwu
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): you’re fine girl
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good luck.

I feel motivated, so motivated that I stand up immediately, close my computer, and finish my hamburger on the spot.

“Going out again!? Hah.”

I am running out of mean things to say, that’s a good sign.

“Don’t count on it.”

“You are doing great. Let’s go! The day’s young and we have notes to take!”

Yes! I don’t even notice the door in my way this time! I just go out and hop my way over to the elevator.

To the library! Again!

submitted by OrlonDogger to HFY [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 22:03 scr0tum-phillips My neighbor’s 1913 Sears ‘Maytown’ and a little sketch I did of it

There are about 30 identified catalog homes in my town, and I’m lucky enough to live on the same block as 3 of them. This is the most distinctive of the three. The other two are a 1924 Sears ‘Alhambra’ and a 1922 Aladdin ‘Detroit’ (the latter of the two is my favorite; I’m partial to a Craftsman Bungalow).
Sears sold these Free Classic Queen Anne models on and off throughout the 1910s into the early ‘20s.

submitted by scr0tum-phillips to centuryhomes [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 21:59 sweeetgypsy I’m worried my boyfriend is cheating

Okay this may be my anxiety and maybe some past trauma resurfacing but hear me out. My (25) boyfriend (23) and I have been together for 6 months and he never shaves his pubes but I noticed he did the other day before we had sex. I said “omg you shaved?” And laughed and he said “yeah”. Also last week I noticed burning upon urination, vaginal discomfort and white discharge on his dick after we had sex. I immediately got scared and tested for a uti but it was negative. So idk if it’s just BV or an STI. It’s been 7 days since the first time I noticed the burning and it has subsided but sometimes still there. I’m worried that maybe he’s cheating on me. Is this insane of me to think? I also worry because a lot of times he goes to the bathroom he has his phone on him. I’ve seen him on it at home just while peeing, is this a normal thing guys do or is this weird? I worry also because we share locations with each other and anytime he’s at home not busy doing anything, he always takes at least an hour to respond to my text messages. (I get that some people like their alone time or prefer not to text a lot) but I think the reason why this worries me is because he told me when we first started dating, he had to return something of his exes that he found in his apt because he told her they can no longer be friends now that him and I are together. BUT he told her to meet him outside of his apt because he didn’t want me to see his location at some random house and have me worry he was doing something shady. I don’t know if I sound absolutely crazy or if this is a legitimate cause of concern. Maybe I’m so traumatized from my past that I’m now possibly self sabotaging. Other than that, he really is amazing and treats me like a queen. His communication is great, I’ve met his parents and family, he includes me in his future plans and talks about a future with me, always helps me with anything I need, takes me on lots of dates, posts me on social media, etc. Any advice would be appreciated
TLDR; am I jumping to conclusions or are my concerns valid

submitted by sweeetgypsy to dating [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 21:53 Appropriate_Breath91 I can’t even go fishing

In the divorce process. Stbxw made a lot of whack exaggerations and allegations. Par for the course.
While I am mainly practicing grey rock; I do occasionally need to communicate with her because of our 2 children.
For example; my son has pretty sensitive allergy ridden eyes. He has to use a special ointment.
He was adamant he didn’t need said ointment anymore (he’s 5; but very smart) and that I was confused and said ointment was actually for his eczema. So yknow what? The kid got me and I doubted myself. I reached out to stbxw to confirm which ointment was for what.
This led to her asking if I made the children wear life vests while fishing a tiny pond. Followed by a text requesting I “please confirm if I did or not.” Because she wants to make sure the kids are safe.
The kids must have told her we were planning on fishing. I didn’t have life vests on them - we were not in a boat. I’m not a great swimmer but can she really try to use this against me too?
I would ask my lawyer but it’s Saturday and the office is closed. She causes me tremendous anxiety and I cannot wait until this process is officially over. I feel like everything- literally everything is a trap.
So tl;dr can my stbxw get me introuble for possibly not having life vests on my kids while we were sitting in chairs fishing a small pond? 😅
Does this sound crazy? Or am I crazy?
I feel like I have never seen another father have life vests on his kids while fishing a pond

submitted by Appropriate_Breath91 to Divorce_Men [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 21:49 holly948 Please join our initiative to get more off-leash dog parks in Kitsilano, and eventually, all of Vancouver!!

Join our FB group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/kitsoffleash
Read our article in The Vancouver Sun: https://vancouversun.com/news/shut-out-of-schoolyards-vancouver-dog-owners-ramp-up-pressure-on-city-to-add-dog-parks
How can you help without Facebook? Call 311 and request a dog park be added near you, and email them your requests also! Their email is offleash@vancouver.ca
Right now I'm starting with Kitsilano, as that's my community, but I will eventually be voicing support for more dog areas in all of Vancouver.
We are one of the least dog-friendly cities in all of Canada, which is honestly absurd.
Over 35% of Vancouver households have a dog, yet my closest dog park is a 30 minute walk away (50 with my dog!) and my closest fenced dog park is an hour away (who even knows how long it would take us!).
Murphy Donut Sir Pickles III and I thank you so much for your support 🐶🐾💚

submitted by holly948 to NiceVancouver [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 21:49 twipping Suggestions for Memorial Day Weekend visit

Hello,
My partner and I will be staying with a friend in Sunnyside, Queens for the Memorial Day weekend and I wanted to ask for some recommendations.
I wanted to see something on the odd side of entertaining, on a previous visit I saw an Inner Beauty Pagent that was very fun and someone was screening Turkish knock-off superhero movies or did a presentation on them which was great. My googling hasn't turned up much for this visit unfortunately. Any suggestions for venues or events?
We do like museums - my partner liked the Tenement museum and we might go there or the met, any less known museums / exhibits you have enjoyed recently?
Any suggestions for places to have breakfast / good bakeries around Sunnyside would be appreciated. Any restaurants you like in the area? No food restrictions or specific preferences. We do like trying less-known cuisines.
Can you suggest any places to try good sour beer?
I do like live music, but usually only jazz or metal for live shows. My partner likes classical and most music that isn't too atonal. We both like funk and would go to a dance party.
The plan is to mostly walk around and explore, any areas you enjoy strolling around in Queens or other Boroughs?
We are shopping for new glasses, can you suggest a shop with a selection? It'd be fun to try on nicer frames (shout out zennioptical.com for savings over the years.)
Other interests: scifi, interior decor, literary/societal criticism, racquet sports
Thanks!

submitted by twipping to AskNYC [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 21:38 PolygondagonFuzz Unearthed some more sets in storage

Interested in what the Venator and Queen Anne's Revenge looks like if anyone has pics

submitted by PolygondagonFuzz to lepin [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 21:25 Spooker0 The Next Line Will Hold (Human Military Advisors)

Location: Defense Line Husky, Datsot-3

POV: Motsotaer, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Pack Member)
The shrieking whistle of incoming artillery shell was among the most terrifying noises known to living beings.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Boom. Boom. Boom.
But it meant you were still alive.
Pack Member Motsotaer wondered if the poor pups in the forward trenches heard them coming as the enemy high explosive pounded into their lines.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
One of their anti-aircraft concrete bunkers took a direct hit; its roof collapsed on itself with a loud crumble.
Grass Eater artillery was voluminous, destructive, but scariest of all, it was incredibly precise. Their intelligence assets in orbit knew all, saw all. Their kill chains were short. Once they saw you, they would call it in, and the remainder of your life was measured in minutes and seconds.
There was nothing vegetarian about the efficient and bloodthirsty way the long-eared Grass Eaters fought, and the numerous intelligent predator species they’d exterminated on their way to Datsot… some of those tales gave even Motsotaer nightmares.
The defenders of Datsot had no choice. No choice but to defend their homes against the psychotic enemies pounding their lines to bits. And the ones who remained had learned the hard lessons of war, either through experience earned by blood or via the process of not-so-natural selection.
Motsotaer clutched his rifle against his chest as he laid in his own shallow hole, eyes closed. If the end was going to come for him, there was nothing else he could do but huddle in his freshly-dug grave.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The blasts continued walking across the defense lines, undoubtedly killing scores of his comrades. But he accompanied each shockwave with a sigh of relief; they let him know that he was still alive. Still breathing.
One final rumble. And then there was silence across the battlefield.
Motsotaer waited a minute before he peeked out — another lesson that smart defenders of Datsot had discovered the hard way. A couple brave medics were already on the move, their shouts left and right, pulling bodies and the groaning injured alike out of the rubble aftermath of the shelling.
With a grunt, he pulled himself out of his hole, rushing towards the neighboring anti-air bunker. The concrete roof had collapsed, but he could still hear cries from the dark. He squeezed through the cluttered entrance.
It was a mess on the inside. The lights were all gone. Scattered sandbags. It smelled like blood and death, and he pushed aside the still body of a Head Pack Leader he only knew of, only to find the corpse of yet another Pack Member, her limbs sprawled in an unnatural position.
“Anyone still alive in here?” he asked in the dark as his eyes adjusted. “Hello?”
There were a series of loud coughs. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Pack Leader Nidvid!” he shouted as he recognized the familiar shrill voice. “Keep talking! Where are you?”
“Here. I’m here. Help me up.”
As she continued to cough, he had the sense to fish a flashlight out of his pocket, fumbling around until he found the on button. As the light activated, he could see Nidvid half-buried in the dirt, her lower limbs trapped beneath some sand from the broken sandbags.
“Pack Leader!” He got onto his front paws and started digging. “Are you injured?”
“I don’t think so,” she shook her head in the dim lighting as she experimentally wriggled her legs. “Here, I think I’m loose. Help me up.”
Motsotaer grasped her under her arms, and with a heavy grunt, pulled her out of the dirt.
“Whew,” she said, checking her body again for wounds. Nidvid looked around at the other bodies splayed in the bunker. “Oh no… Head Pack Leader…”
“That was a close one. I can’t believe you lived through that!”
“Yeah, me neither… Wait a second,” Nidvid said as she began rummaging through a pile of rubble near the Head Pack Leader’s body. “The radio…”
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he aimed his flashlight towards where she was looking.
“Oh no, no, no…” her voice trailed off as she picked up the device she’d been looking for. “Our hardline communicator…” It was clearly broken from the strike, its shell perforated with a hundred holes and its connection to the landline severed. In disgust, Nidvid threw it back to the ground.
“What uh— what did you need that for?” Motsotaer asked. “Were we supposed to tell them we were being attacked?”
“No… It was— before the strike, we got a high priority order.”
“A high priority order?”
Nidvid recalled, “There’s a special platoon in our salient… We were supposed to get an important message to them!”
“Special platoon?” Motsotaer asked. “Are you okay, Nidvid?”
“Yes, yes,” the Pack leader replied, visibly distraught. “They only had a physical line to us because they’re supposed to be keeping in the dark. Emissions control or something like that so they can activate the flying machine swarm in time. They said this was life and death and our whole defense line hinges on it!”
“Emissions control? Flying machines? Pack Leader, we should get you to a medic,” he said skeptically.
“No! Motsotaer, this is important. We need to get the message to them now. They’re only a couple kilometers south from our position. If we run over to their position now, it might not yet be—”
He looked up at her face in alarm. “Run to another position? Outside the trench line?”
“Yes! We have to go!” she said, as she peeked out of the concrete bunker towards the barren zone ahead of the trenches. “Now! Before they start their offensive.”
Motsotaer began to protest, “But that’s no creature’s land. If we get spotted by their troops, we’ll be hunted down by the Grass Eaters ships in orbit…”
She was insistent, “Pack Member Motsotaer, get it together. We still have a job to do. Are you with me or are you going to sit here and die like a coward to the long-ears?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straightening up. Death or not, he was no coward. “I mean… I’m with you.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
With a grunt, she leapt out of the trenches and jogged south, keeping to the defensive side of it for the modicum of cover it provided, and Motsotaer quickly followed. As they sprinted away from the tattered defenses, they ran into a thick tree line that hopefully provided them with some concealment from the Grass Eater ships above.
After a couple more minutes of running in the forest, Motsotaer started to tire and pant. He weighed his burning lung and how embarrassed he’d be if he complained. Luckily for his ego, Nidvid gestured for them to stop after another minute and tossed him her canteen. “Take a break before we get going.”
He chugged as much water as he could in a single swig, and returned the canteen to Nidvid. He gasped out, “How much further, Pack Leader?”
“About one more kilometer south,” she said, aiming her snout up at the treetops. “I recognize the smell of this area.”
“What’s this even about? The message… what was it?”
Nidvid exercised her limbs. “That Grass Eater artillery strike… it was to prepare for their offensive on our lines. They’ve gathered an armored division on the other side of that,” she pointed out into the barren fields beyond the trees. “We have an hour at most before they roll over us.”
“An armored division?!” Motsotaer squeaked. The enemy’s Longclaws — their armored vehicles — were legendary. They could kill from kilometers away. And their thick shells protected them against all but the most powerful artillery in the Federation’s arsenal. He’d never seen one of them personally. If he had, he suspected he wouldn’t be alive to tell anyone about it. “What can we do against a Grass Eater armored division?”
“That’s why we have to get to the special platoon,” Nidvid replied. She pointed in the southern direction, “You ready? Let’s go.”
They galloped for a few more minutes. Motsotaer’s limbs tired and his breaths shallowed as his lung burnt. As he was contemplating whether to ask for another break, Nidvid pointed at a shape in the distance. “There, that’s their position!”
He squinted at it. It was not easy to see, but buried in the tree line was what looked like a bunch of out-of-place branches and leaves over a small vehicle. Buoyed by the anticipation of the end of the marathon, he managed to keep up with Nidvid’s pace.
As they approached, there was a loud shout.
“Hi-yah! Stop!”
They halted their steps and looked for the source of the voice.
“Not one more paw step, deserter! This is a restricted area! Turn around or you’ll be shot!”
Motsotaer looked up at the voice hidden up in the branches. After a moment, with some help from his nose, he found the yeller. It was a short, stout middle-aged male with strange-looking green and brown paint smeared all over his fur and face. He had a rifle aimed squarely at the duo.
“Don’t shoot!” Nidvid yelled back. “We’re runners. We’ve got an important message! For your platoon commander.”
The male in the tree looked suspiciously at them as he leapt down. He lowered his rifle, but didn’t seem any less on guard. “A message?”
“Yes, we’ve got an urgent message for Special Platoon Commander Graunsa. Take us to him right now!”
He sized the two of them up. After a moment, he said slowly, “I am Graunsa. Why are you here, and what is the message?”
Nidvid recovered some of her breath and explained, “The Grass Eaters hit us hard with an artillery strike. Our Head Pack Leader is dead. Our landline is gone. We ran all the way over from our lines north of you.”
Graunsa nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“The Grass Eater armored offensive is about to start. They’re moving into position and ready to go, and there’s a special message embedded—”
“Wait a second,” Graunsa interrupted. “Give me the special message exactly, without omission or your own interpretations.”
“Yes, Platoon Commander,” Nidvid nodded. “The message is: bunny water carriers are in play, red-five-zero-eight; come out of the dark and introduce yourself. Authorization is three-three-greyhound.”
Graunsa looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered it.
“What does the message mean?” Motsotaer whispered at Nidvid.
“I have no idea,” she shrugged, whispering back. “The Head Pack Leader just told me to memorize it.”
The platoon commander seemed to have made up his mind. “Alright, that seems legitimate. Thanks for the message.” He turned around to leave.
Motsotaer shouted behind him, “Wait, what are we supposed to do now?”
Graunsa turned around. “I don’t know. I’m not your commanding officer.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t recommend going back to your lines though. Might not be there when you get back…”
“What?!”
“You can’t just leave us! Where else are we supposed to go?” Nidvid asked.
Graunsa seemed to contemplate the question for a few heartbeats and sighed, “You said you’re from the position up north?”
“Yup,” they replied in unison.
“And you’re a spotter, Pack Member?” he asked, looking at the rank and position patch on Motsotaer’s chest.
“Yes.”
Graunsa relented. “Fine. We might find a use for you. Get into the bunker… before the Grass Eaters in orbit see us dawdling out here.”
“What? Where?”
The officer pointed at a patch of dark green leaves on the forest floor. As they approached it, he grasped a latch and lifted it to reveal a ladder. The three of them descended into the darkness and Graunsa secured it behind them. With a quiet swoosh, a lamp mounted on the wall lit up to reveal a small hallway leading to a heavy-looking door.
Graunsa knocked on it twice. He turned around and looked at Motsotaer and Nidvid. “What you’re about to see in here is of the highest secrecy level of the Malgeir Federation. If you tell anyone what you see in here, you will be executed for treason. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Platoon Commander.”
“Swear it, on your honor.”
“We swear,” they replied in unison, their voices infused with growing excitement.
“Good enough for me.”
The heavy steel door swung open, showing a room that was vastly different from what its primitive exterior suggested. It resembled a command center far more than a field base, and Motsotaer felt a blast of cold air conditioning in his face as he passed the door threshold.
At the front, a main screen showed a map of the defensive lines in the sector. Facing it, two rows of sleek, new computer screens lit up the dark. Their operators worked busily at their controls, and only a couple faces looked their way in mild interest as they entered.
“What is this—” Motsotaer started to ask. Nidvid grasped his shoulder and shushed him.
Graunsa cleared his throat. Several faces looked towards him in anticipation. “Platoon, we just got the message. Activate the FTL handshake and authenticate us in the network.”
“Yes, sir.” A young-looking communication officer near the front operated a few controls on her console. “I’ve got the advisors on the line.”
Motsotaer read his nametag: Gassin. She was a Gamma Leader, much higher ranked than he, but she looked not a day over twenty. He noted that many of the people in the room sported high-ranking insignias despite their apparent youth.
“On screen,” Graunsa ordered.
A communication window appeared on the main screen, streaming video of someone in a jet-black EVA suit.
Motsotaer stiffened. It was obvious that the subject was alien; at around 1.7 or 1.8 meters, it was far too tall for being a Malgeir. Too small for a Granti. And from the side profile of the suit, it didn’t bulge nearly enough for the tails that the Malgeir’s Schpriss neighbors were known for. A strange new species of aliens.
From the blackened visor, it was obvious that whoever that was… it was the reason for all this tight secrecy.
“Special Platoon Commander Graunsa,” it transmitted in perfect Malgeirish. The alien was either a trained-from-birth Federation Channel One newscaster with a perfectly inoffensive accent, or its translator was far better than anything the Malgeir themselves had invented. “This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”
Graunsa stepped up to address the screen directly, “Yes, advisor. Our fire support platoon is ready for tasking.”
“Excellent. Transmitting the first batch of targets in your sector now.”
A series of symbols scrolled onto the screen, showing a number of coordinates.
“We’re getting the enemy positions now,” Gassin exclaimed.
Graunsa turned to her and nodded his appreciation, “Sixteen armored targets. Weapons free.”
“Yes, sir. Programming the sequence.”
A camera on the main screen activated, remotely showing a small hole with some machinery in it dug a few hundred meters away just at the edge of the tree line.
“Launching flying machine swarm!”
As Motsotaer watched, a thicket of metal erupted from the hole in a blur, roaring into the sky.
The main screen was replaced by a four-by-four of windows of black and white images. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was looking at the battlefield from above. The Malgeir had rotary wing, airplanes, and jet — some were even armed, but they were usually much bigger. And their air assets had been grounded since the early days of the battle for Datsot when the enemy took the orbits.
Not these tiny devices though.
He focused on one of the sixteen windows.
The ground sped past below the camera’s vision, tree line after tree line, the flying machine seemed to know where it was going by itself: Motsotaer looked at the other occupants in the room. None of them seemed to be directly controlling it.
He stiffened.
Is this controlled by a thinking machine?
“We’re getting in range of the target coordinates, Platoon Commander,” Gassin updated the room a few minutes later.
As if on cue, the flying machines flew higher, and the trees on the ground grew smaller, as if further away. Until…
“Targets identified!” Gassin reported with excitement in her voice.
As an infantry spotter, Motsotaer had been trained — barely — to identify enemy armored vehicles. As in, he’d been given a cheatsheet containing the silhouettes of the different types of vehicles the enemy drove. But even he couldn’t tell at this distance what the white-hot smudges on the screen were.
The machine had no such issues though.
Several red boxes materialized on the screen, clearly marking several enemy vehicles in the thermal imagery and adorning them with detailed information.
The one Motsotaer was watching said:
Hostile vehicle, Longclaw MK4 (top armor: ~25mm), 4.2 km.
No hostile EW detected.
Without additional prompting, the flying machines raced in towards their targets, each recognizing a different one as its final destination. Afraid to blink, Motsotaer stared intently at one of the video streams.
A new line of text appeared at the top of the screen:
ETA 20 seconds.
It counted down the seconds, number by number.
The enemy Longclaw got larger and larger until… the screen went black, replaced by static. As he looked around, the other windows were similarly replaced with static one-by-one.
Motsotaer frowned, wondering where the videos had gone.
Then, it hit him. The flying machines were on one-way trips.
The sixteen windows disappeared, and another one appeared, showing the enemy assembly area from a much higher perspective. And instead of the vehicles he expected, he counted sixteen burning wrecks, the black smoke from their flames reaching up into the sky in columns.
“Targets destroyed, Commander,” Gassin said. Several of the officers in the room looked at each other excitedly, but their celebration was muted.
Graunsa nodded. “Call our advisors again.”
The alien appeared on the screen again. “Excellent work, Platoon Commander. We’re assessing the lines and getting the second batch of targets to you now.”
“Understood.”
As the new target coordinates scrolled onto the main screen, Gassin didn’t need additional prompting, “Launching flying machines!”
Another sixteen of them flashed out from the pre-dug position. Another sixteen windows appeared on the screen, replacing the odd-looking aliens’ video.
“Wait a minute,” the aliens’ voice cut into the quiet hum of the control room’s operation. “Switch back to the high-altitude drone. Something’s happening.”
The main screen’s image was replaced by the previous camera looking down at enemy lines. There was a flurry of activity in the enemy base area. Numerous dots representing the ground troops moved to-and-fro. And worryingly, the red squares that surrounded enemy armor began appearing en masse as enemy Longclaws drove out of their covered positions into the open.
Dozens of them.
Then, hundreds. And more appeared every second.
“What’s going on?” Graunsa asked, his voice reflecting Motsotaer’s worry.
The alien took a minute to get back to him, its black helmeted face filling up the screen again. “They’re attacking. They don’t know what hit them in the last strike. But they must have realized that they’re not safe in their assembly area, and they’re doing the only thing they can… We estimate they’ll get to your first lines in thirty minutes.”
“Can we stop them?” Graunsa asked. “We can—”
The alien looked directly into the video. “Not sixteen drones at a time. And if you launch the whole swarm at once, it’ll reflect enough signal for them to sniff out where you are with their counter-battery radars and take you out from orbit.”
Graunsa swallowed. “That’s— that’s— The machines can fly themselves without us, right?”
The alien didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats. “Theoretically, yes. But even if you evacuate your position now, your people won’t get out of range from the orbital strike they’ll call in.”
“I understand. Feed us the enemy targets.”
“Delta Leader, we can’t ask you to—”
“I said, feed us the enemy targets,” Graunsa insisted.
Quietly, hundreds of coordinate pairs filed onto the main screen. Graunsa looked at the faces of the young officers under his command. Dozens of them. He turned around to look at his two guests. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s the right choice,” Nidvid replied, shrugging.
Motsotaer nodded at him.
“I know,” Graunsa said, turning back to the main screen. “Just doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Sir, we’re ready to launch,” Gassin reported.
“Weapons free. Release everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ground shook and rumbled, hundreds of flying machines leaving their canisters for the sky. They were close enough to hear the outgoing buzzing as the munitions launched. This time, more and more windows filled up the screen with the visuals of the outgoing flying machines — hundreds of them, and Motsotaer was surprised that the computers could even handle it all.
The visage of the alien returned to their screen. It said calmly, “Enemy orbital launch spotted. Multiple launches. High yield. Missiles incoming to your location, ETA twelve minutes.”
“Understood, advisor.”
POV: Slurskoch, Znosian Dominion Marines (Rank: Five Whiskers)
“Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
“What’s going on?” Longclaw Commander Slurskoch sat up in his turret cupola as the sirens rang loud through the hull.
“We’re under artillery attack!” his Controller yelled back at him through the roaring startup sequence of the turbine anti-grav engines. “The Lesser Predators… they’ve got some kind of new weapon! Took out a whole battalion’s worth of Longclaws in the 194!”
“But we’re not ready!” his Driver complained. “Our artillery is supposed to pound them for another hour before we—”
Slurskoch shook his head as he checked the friendly force tracker on his screen. “Doesn’t matter! If they’ve got some new weapon, we can’t sit still while we get pounded to bits by whatever they have. We gotta get out there. Hurry it up!”
It took them another two minutes to fully warm up the engines, and with a roar, the Longclaw burst out of its camouflaged emplacement, kicking up a curtain of dirt in front of it.
“Let’s go! Go! Go!” Slurskoch yelled as his lagging Longclaw joined the armored formation already on the move.
The Controller spoke with one of her ears in the radio, “Their artillery just launched… something at us. We’ve pinpointed their location, and orbital support is on its way.”
His Gunner whooped twice, and Slurskoch nodded silently in agreement. That’d flatten those carnivorous abominations where they stood. He drew a few symbols and circles on the digital battlemap as the Longclaws drove toward the enemy lines. “Gunner, watch those potential trench lines in front of us,” he instructed. “Their anti-armor may not look scary on paper, but their infantry can always get a lucky hit in.”
Slurskoch was taught in training that it was better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. Luckily, the predators usually fell below expectations, which was why the Dominion controlled the orbits of Datsot now and not them.
His Controller frowned at something in her radio, “They’re saying something about the enemy artillery… The engineers at the base assessed the strike aftermath. There’s something strange in the rubble. The attack was more precise than anything we’d ever seen.”
“What does that mean?” Slurskoch asked in confusion.
“The sensor officer in charge of the assembly area has taken full responsibility. They didn’t see the incoming at all. Higher ups are speculating that the Lesser Predators have a new weapon in their arsenal.”
“The predators made new weapons?” Slurskoch snorted. “Useful ones? That’ll be a first. Well, whatever it is, maybe our Design Bureau will get a good look at it when we finally cleanse this planet of their filth. Make our next battle a little easier when we have to take their home planet.”
His Gunner agreed, “And then, the Prophecy shall be fulfilled.”
A few kilometers into the charge across the open, the Gunner remarked with one eye on her targeting computer, “Looks like even the local winged predators know that there’s about to be a slaughter here.”
The Driver, in his open hatch, looked up at the cloud of them flying over the enemy lines. “Looks like it. A nice juicy feast for them in the coming battle. The irony of the barbaric carnivores being eaten by themselves.”
A few thousand years ago, winged predators would have curdled the blood of any natural-born Znosian. On the original plains of Znos, they were one of the most dangerous threats a lone Znosian faced. Now, that fear had been completely bred out of the gene pool, replaced with contempt for predatory primitivism, the courage to face them in battle, and the drive to exterminate them all.
Curious, Slurskoch stared up into the cloud of winged predators with his Longclaw commander optics. He frowned.
One of them shimmered.
Shimmered.
He zoomed in.
Then, he saw a metallic glint. His whiskers tightened.
“That’s— those aren’t winged predators,” he barely made out in shock. “Incoming!”
“Huh?” his Driver asked, craning his head up to look at the dark shapes in the distance.
“Get inside! Secure the hatch!” Slurskoch shouted at him.
His Driver was not very good at thinking on his own, but he had been bred to follow direct orders without question. He ducked into his seat, quickly securing the hatch above him close with trained claws.
He barely secured the Longclaw as other commanders began yelling out similar instructions on their radios.
“Incoming!” his Controller advised, about ten seconds later than necessary. “Enemy… artillery?!”
“Gunner!” Slurskoch gestured in the general direction of the sky.
“I can’t get a shot on them. They’re too high up!” she screamed back at him.
A trio of air defense vehicles next to him opened up with their six barrels towards the sky, lines of bright tracers stabbing out at the dark swarm. He saw one of the… flying machines hit and fall out of the sky. Then another.
It wasn’t enough.
As Slurskoch’s optics tracked the incoming, he saw them dive. They were fast, and they flew erratic patterns, almost organically, like actual winged beasts. If he hadn’t had that specific fear bred out of his bloodline hundreds of years ago, he would have been frozen in shock. Instead, he yelled out, “Brace! Brace!”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The world exploded around his Longclaw.
Through his friendly force tracker, Slurskoch watched an entire battalion disappear off the map on his right flank, and two Longclaws in his line of sight brewed up in massive fireballs, throwing their turrets into the sky as their plasma ammunition detonated. One of the anti-air vehicles brewed up next to his, splattering its parts against his hull.
His Driver drove for all he was worth, ducking and weaving in the open field. So did the other Longclaws. Some deployed curtains of smoke in front of them in desperation.
None of it seemed to help.
The shockwaves hit his Longclaw in quick succession, knocking him around the armored cabin and rattling his teeth.
Boom. Boom.
More Longclaws exploded. Many more. They were disappearing off his screen faster than the software could update the signals. He closed his eyes waiting for the end.
It didn’t come.
It was hard for Slurskoch to tell when the last Longclaw near them was hit. His hearing organs must have been damaged some time during the attack. His auditory senses ringed as they returned to normal, recovering when his Controller shook him with a paw on his shoulder. “—Five Whiskers! Five Whiskers!”
“What is it?” he snapped, keeping the quivering out of his voice.
“We’re alone in our company, and I can’t contact the six whiskers! And I’ve been trying to reach battalion without success!”
“Try the regiment commander!” he yelled out against the noise of the anti-grav engine.
“Can’t reach them either!”
“What about division headquarters?!”
“I think division’s gone, sir!”
“What?!”
“Nobody there has been responding. All I’ve got is a seven whiskers in the reserve infantry division behind us! They’re saying they see black smoke in the direction of our division field command!”
“What in the Prophecy? How is that possible?!”
“What do we do, Five Whiskers?”
Slurskoch had been trained for a wide variety of combat scenarios and contingencies, including losing his immediate superiors, losing most of his unit, and losing his communication link to command. But he’d never been trained for all of those combined at once. That was just not something predators were supposed to be able to do to you.
He fell back to the next best thing.
“What’s the combat computer say?” he asked.
His Controller operated the controls on her console, and after half a minute of querying, she replied, reading off the instructions, “Absent orders, continue the attack. Maybe we can push through.”
“What? Did it take our losses into account?” he protested as he checked the battlemap. Of the nearly five hundred Longclaws that had pushed out of the assembly area, only a quarter remained. At most. Some of the signals on the map were flagging themselves as mobility or mission killed.
She shrugged, “It did. That’s what it says.”
He squinted at her screen. That was indeed what it said.
Slurskoch thought for a moment, sighed, and bowed in prayer, “Our lives were forfeited the day we left our hatchling pools.”
The other crew members all did the same, lowering their heads to mutter the familiar mantra.
That ritual out of the way, he drew up to his full height of 1 meter and mustered all the confidence he could into his voice, “Attack! Attack! Attack!”
POV: Graunsa, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Delta Leader)
The command center watched glumly as the hundred or so surviving Grass Eater Longclaws emerged from the wrecks of their comrades and slowly resumed their charge across the open toward the defense lines.
The flying machines had gotten a lot of them. Quite a few disabled too. And they were disorganized from the loss of their command. Yet they still charged. Diminished as their numbers were, they rolled towards the battered defensive lines with psychotic determination.
We’ve failed.
Graunsa sat down heavily into his chair. He brought up his communication console, connecting it to the advisor network.
The alien appeared on the screen, and though he couldn’t see its face, he could hear the sympathy in its translated voice, “You’ve done all you can, Special Platoon Commander.”
“It wasn’t enough,” he said, shaking his ears sadly. “They’re going to break through our line. Our infantry can’t stop them.”
It tilted its head. “I wouldn’t count them out completely, Delta Leader. They might. They might not. But your next defensive line certainly will hold them. The city behind you will be held.”
“Tracking enemy orbit-to-ground. ETA three minutes,” Gassin reported quietly from next to him.
Graunsa sighed. He looked at the alien, “I think I understand your people now, advisor.”
“You… do?”
“Yeah, at first, when we were picked for this mission, I wondered why your people were doing this.”
“Doing this?” the alien asked, seeming confused.
“Helping us. The weapons. The equipment. The training. The targeting. It was all in secret, but you didn’t have to do it. The other species around us didn’t do it. The Schpriss…” Graunsa snorted, “The long-tails can’t even find it in their spines to send us field rations. I thought your species… your people were just generous. Or perhaps you simply enjoyed the craft of war, being so adept at it.”
“Are we… not?”
“Those reasons may be part of it,” he conceded. “But more importantly, I think your people understand one thing the other species don’t… that we might stop the enemy here. Or we might not.”
“We didn’t set you up to fail, if that’s what you think—”
“But the next defensive line certainly will hold them,” Graunsa said, staring the alien in the eye. “You will hold them. Isn’t that right?”
It sighed. “I would be lying if that wasn’t part of the strategic equation. Our star systems are indeed next in line — sometime in the next decade or two, probably — if these bloodthirsty Buns conquered your Federation. That harsh astropolitical realism. But there’s something else too.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” it nodded its head firmly in a familiar manner. “Yes, there is. We aren’t a particularly long-sighted species, Graunsa. We can plan, yes, but wars are fought by true believers. People don’t sign up to put their lives on the line for a hypothetical, potential invasion of our Republic twenty years in the future. They— we signed up for this because we truly believe what’s happening to your people… it shouldn’t happen to anyone, ever.”
Graunsa looked at the helmeted head for a while, then nodded. “I believe you, advisor.”
“I’m sorry this didn’t pan out, Graunsa. If I could, I’d be down there with you. We’d have made them pay for this.”
Graunsa smiled. “I believe you about that too. Thank you, advisor, whatever your name is.”
“You may call me Kara,” it said simply. A deft snap of its paws — he hadn’t noticed how soft its claws were before — and it released a latch on its helmet with a hiss. Lifting it from its head, it revealed a soft, smooth face without much fur except a bundle of long, brown strands on its scalp tied up in a neat spherical shape. Its hazel forward-facing eyes stared at him with the empathy that only other predators were capable of, filling him with mild relief. “Don’t tell anyone though,” it joked lightly, mirroring his smile back at him.
You’re not as ugly as I thought you’d be. Not nearly.
Graunsa’s grin widened at the thought. He put it out of his mind. “Ah. One last thing, advisor— Kara.”
“Yes?”
His mind drifted to his cubs at home. Perhaps they were still alive. He chose to believe that. “Our people’s clans and packs…”
“We’ll let them know,” she interrupted him softly. “And when the information quarantine is lifted, we’ll let your clans and packs know what you did here — everything.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Gassin sat down next to him, “Delta Leader, enemy missiles incoming. ETA thirty seconds, they’re entering—” She stopped her report and stared at the unmasked alien on his screen with equal parts wonder and sadness.
“Take a closer look, Gassin,” he ordered softly. “That… that is who will avenge us.”
On screen, the alien put its gloved paw up to its temple, forming a stiff triangle with its arm in a recognizable salute. “It was an honor, Graunsa.”
Graunsa returned it crisply, letting a primitive fire shine through his face. “Happy hunting, Kara.”

Location: Atlas Naval Command, Luna

POV: “Kara”, Terran Reconnaissance Office
Kara watched solemnly as the green signal blinked off the battlemap. She closed her eyes for a moment in silent prayer for the fallen.
Beep. Beep.
Another light on her console blinked urgently for her attention. Four thousand kilometers from the previous one. The war raged on — day and night — across four continents on the besieged planet. Fifty light years from the Republic, its defenders’ sweat, tears, and blood lined the fields and valleys of the beautiful blue sphere not so different from her own. Tens of millions of them: many who she knew would not see the end of this war.
They didn’t all know it, and some might not have cared, but fifty light years away, someone recorded their names, and someone felt a pang of loss for their sacrifice. In the cold, dark forest of the galaxy, somebody heard their trees fall.
Kara collected her thoughts, adjusted the bun in her hair, and lowered the tinted EVA helmet over her face once more.
She cleared her throat as she glanced at the screen and activated the microphone in her helmet, “Special Platoon Commander Treiriu. This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”

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Thanks for reading my story! This is a standalone chapter in my Grass Eaters story, meant to be enjoyable all on its own. If you're interested in more of my writing, please do subscribe to the update waffle bot or check out the rest of the universe in Grass Eaters.
(Grass Eaters posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We are closing in on the end of Book 1.)

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2024.05.18 21:24 takeaccountability41 My theory for the deep north

WARNING ITS LONG.
Here are my ideas for the deep north and what I think it will be like
It’ll be similar to the Ashlands, where it will most likely be cut off from the sea and you’ll have to sail there, you’ll have to navigate icebergs, big and small and once you land there you’ll have to deal with cracks in the ice that you’ll have to navigate or create platforms to get across from place to place however, these gaps are not large, and can be jumped across with some difficulty but some gaps will need to be crossed using other methods of which there are many, similar to the lava, you will not want to enter the frigid cold waters of the deep north. There will be large mountainous terrain, large portions of flat land similar to the Plains, large rocks similar to the mist lands, combining a lot of aspects from multiple biomes and a lot of stuff, they’ve learned from the previous biomes when making the game to create this final one, because it has to be different from anything else and not just like the mountains.
The storms will be dangerous because it will slow you down and you won’t be able to see much because of the snowstorm Very similar to the mist in the mist lands, there will be portions of the land in the deep north that will have deep snow similar to the water in the swamp, which will make your movements sluggish, and if you go deep enough in the deep snow, you won’t be able to attack properly or at all if too deep.
I feel like in the deep north there will be even more worship for a god or something or someone then other biomes like the Ashlands had so for that reason, I think will see a lot of temples and ruins of worship as well
I personally think the boss will be different than any other boss we’ve fought before and for that reason, I think it will most likely be a serpent of some kind, and the mechanics, for it will use a similar item to the balsalt bomb To create new platforms to stand on, that the boss will break, however if the boss runs into enough of these platforms that you create, it will be stunned allowing for Melee, which is what it will be weak against the most, and it will be resistant to Pierce so that it is possible to kill it with ranged attacks, but it won’t be the most fast or effective way and you’ll want to use the mechanics of stunning it to take it down quicker.
It’ll have attacks which include ranged attacks, A whirlpool attack, charging attacks, wave attacks to knock you off your platform into the water, where you would end up getting damaged if you stay long enough in it and a frost debuff 5sec even if you get out quickly.
New accessory Belt of Eternal Emerald Flame craft by using the megingjord & the new boss item from the Ashland to keep you warm in the deep north without it, you freeze to death, it’ll be similar to the strength belt already in the game but you’ll be able to upgrade it later by unlocking a new crafting upgrade for the black forge in the deep north by using the gems to add new powers based on your Play style.
The blood gem will give you increased defense the lower your health is by 0.2%
Ancient lords belt The jade gem I will give you 100% stamina regen when you apply a Immobilized affect
Storm lords belt The lightning gem Will give you 100% eitr regen during storms, add an additional 25% to all lightning damage
Two new gems will be added an ice and a fire one
The fire gem based around attack speed and fire damage related
Ice gem based around preserving and extending the durations of buffs and ice damage related
They will add in new weapons to fill out the rest of the weapon categories that do not have gem upgrades like the atgeir, battle axes, knives, Shields and sledgehammers
which will add 20 new weapons plus an additional 4 New shields and another additional 14 new fire, and ice gemmed weapons for the previous category of weapon types from Ashland, which is not counting any new staffs or individual new weapons
They will add one brand, new armor set, but add in customized upgraded variants for the deep north armor and variants the three armor sets from the Ashland similar to the gem upgrading to provide players with more variation in their place style and builds and cool new looks
The blood gem armor set Will provide an additional 15 base health, her blood armor piece, and if wearing a full set, will bump it up to 25+ base health per armor piece
The jade gem armor set will provide a similar 15 additional base stamina, and with a full set being 25+ base stamina per piece
The lolite gem armor set will provide a similar 15 additional base eitr and increasing it to 25+ base eitr with a full set
The fire gem armor set provides a increased attack speed at the cost of increased calories giving a 5% increase to attack speed And if wearing a full set, will give you a 8.33% increase to attack speed, but will consume your food at twice the normal speed meaning your food duration is cut in half
The ice gem armor set provides a chilled slower metabolism, allowing you to maintain longer durations for your food and a longer rested buff increasing by 25% per piece and 33% for a full set
A new resource that must be harvested however, it is encased in a very thick durable layer of ice and I must be broken with a new siege weapon a flamethrower, Or if you were lucky enough to get dyrnwyn it’ll be slightly less effective at melting ice, or if you have a staff of embers, which will be the least effective method at clearing the ice.
They will also be new fortresses to conquer in the deep north which will require any of the previous siege weapons however, the new flamethrower will be more effective at breaking down specific areas of the fortress that are more weak to fire, allowing for quicker entry to the fortress, these new fortresses will have a dungeon inside them as well, more akin to a temple
There will be the Dvergr outposts there as well, holding some of the new resources
New enemies: ice golem ( slightly larger, with more variety of attacks, including a wave of ice spikes, shooting ice spikes)
Freezling spiders made of what looks to be a hard like Crystaline ice and it’s cold to the touch, they’re the size of a neck, and will run away unless attacked or approached closely enough(similar to boars), and a queen mini boss providing you their eggs, so you can breed them to Farm their silk
iceling (similar to surtlings),
woolly lox(slightly bigger and fluffier with horns, spawning in families pairs of 2-5 with a minimum of 1 parent and 1 baby, and a maximum of 2 parent and 3 babies)
The chilled(similar to the charred but they look like frozen heavily armored Draugr but move much slower, but are capable of very fast bursts of speed to catch you off guard with more erratic movements, making them more unpredictable, also able to phase out into particles of snow, and then reappear closer to you ready to attack) Variants include a great sword and great shield commander variant, A crossbow variant, and a standard battle axe variant.
The commander can rally his troops that are at 20% Hp to provide healing similar to the gray dwarf shaman, but is capable of being interrupted, if hit hard enough resulting in low morale debuff to his troops, reducing their damage, and attacking less frequently by 25%
Phantoms (similar to ghosts and wraiths but more dangerous wielding a sword and capable of magic, however have a weakness they guard their remains slightly below the ground, if located using the wishbone and unearthing their remains allowing for an easy kill)
A new Miniboss providing you with a new tame being the woolly lox. The Miniboss will be a alpha version of the woolly lox where you enter a ruined building It was using as its home to gain access to its children and new food, which can be tamed so you can start breeding them, and a rare new plantable food frost berries that the alpha woolly lox left to feed her kids, which you can now plant to now used to tame other baby woolly lox aswell and cooking recipes, and you can also milk your woolly lox’s too
A new serpent, based off the hatchlings of the new boss serpent similar to the Drake hatchlings of Moder which will roam the seas of the deep north
Adolescent Drake hatchlings about 2 to 3 times bigger than the ones you seen the mountain and are also the children of moder but have grown up more and have moved to the deep north, they can also land on the ground and do attacks similar to moder
A new food resource that you mine: salt
New lighting options using each of the gems also a variety of candles,
A new king size bed,
A new chest providing one extra row on the bottom, or being the same storage size as a black metal chest but smaller allowing for more to be placed in a similar area,
A new chair,
A new bench and throne,
A new table,
more color variety for banners with more colors and shapes,
three new rugs woolly lox rug, chilled fortress rug, ????,
more gold decorations to bling bling up your base,
New shotgun staffs for each element,
New pots or vases,
More flametal building pieces like a smaller door and variants of all the grausten pillars and beams,
New spike walls,
New foods,
New potions,
New arrows
A new portal that allows for the transportation of tames,
New ornaments to put on your buildings, new ones preferably made of metal
A new smaller windmill that doesn’t have to be outside that uses dvergr Technology to run without needing wind, and is able to hold more barley

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2024.05.18 21:18 ApprehensiveCap6525 Earth is a Lost Colony (28)

A/N: yeah I changed up the Alliance admiral's name from Shepard Adama to Sheparda Dama (so creative i know) because the old one was going to fuck me over badly at some point. It would be like trying to make a legitimate, serious fantasy novel with a wizard named Albus Gandalf. I was NOT cooking when I came up with that shit.
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It was said that no plan ever survived contact with the enemy. That, at least in the case of Marcus Wayne’s infiltration of Neldia, was proven entirely true.
His ship, the Peacemaker, had undergone an extensive refit before its jump to Neldia to both modify its sensor signature and repair its failing Aegis barrier. The first objective succeeded. The second did not.
One day later, leaving the derelict Ultimate Vigil behind in deep space, the United Human Alliance courier ship Winged Deliverance logged a real space entry at the edge of the Neldia system. Its crew, having spent their waking hours plagued by hallucinations and enduring horrible nightmares as they slept, found this shift very welcome. The worst, though they could hardly believe it, was still yet to come.
“The Neldian fleet is mustering for war,” rumbled the man who had once held the title and security codes of an Alliance sector admiral. Now, he was a traitor to his homeland. “Security will be high.”
“No need to worry, Admiral,” said Marcus Wayne. “Your code will get us through.” It would not.
It took two hours for the Peacemaker, disguised as the Winged Deliverance, to be challenged by the Neldian Armada. “Transmit clearance code,” said an automated voice. Marcus took out a data disc with the admiral's clearance code on it.
“Hold,” said Terris. She was clad in black, her active camouflage offline to save battery, and she had been sitting at the passive sensor console for the past three hours. “Look at this.” A news broadcast popped up in front of Marcus Wayne and his officers. Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama, or at least he was once a sector admiral, had been tried and convicted of high treason.
“It was a secret trial,” Dama said, still in shock at the revelation. “I had no knowledge of this.”
“Well, that tracks, but what do we do now? What code gets us through?”
“Transmit clearance code,” the voice said again, “or adjust course.”
Dama thought for a moment. “Change course,” he said. “We’re not getting through.”
They did. A great sense of defeat took hold in the hearts of the crew. They would never reach the Neldian hypercom. Sheparda Dama, who would have gladly given his life in defense of humankind, would never get the chance to be the man who broke their chains.
The Peacemaker was halfway out of the Neldia system before Terris spoke again. “Hold it,” she said. “I have an idea.”
That was why she had been placed where she was. Clad in an airtight stealth suit. Inside a hollowed-out asteroid. On a ballistic journey to the heart of Neldian space. It was the most insane idea that Marcus Wayne had ever seen.
But, sometimes, insanity was a symptom of genius.
Terris flew past the Neldian Armada undetected. Many asteroids entered the inner system this way, flung by outer-system prospecting ships to the foundries and shipyards in Neldian orbit, and they were thrown and caught so frequently that only the most cursory of inspections was put upon each one. Terris passed the Alliance fleet entirely undetected.
Terris’ chameleon suit could mimic the sensor return of the precious metals it was buried in, at least enough to fool a probing scan, and the cuts made by Protectoral engineers had been so precise that Terris had fit inside there with barely a centimeter of space to spare. She was effectively entombed inside sixty meters of solid rock.
Interstellar espionage was not a job for the claustrophobic.
Finally, after days of waiting, the signal came. She was in range. A mental command triggered a series of shaped charges in the rock above her, if such directions existed in microgravity, and forty pea-sized explosives blasted a circular tunnel all the way to the asteroid surface. If just one of them had failed, that rock might have been her tomb.
Terris tried not to think about that as she began climbing her way out. A brief burst from her suit’s EVA thrusters was enough to start her on her way, and the tunnel out was wide enough for her to use her arms and legs to speed things up. Finally, after too long a wait, Terris saw the Neldian sun for the very first time.
There was fire in the distance. Comm chatter on every band. Warships burning hard for the outer system. The Coalition fleet was here.
She zoomed in, far more than she had ever had to before, and she could pick out the faintest flashes of blue as warships exploded in the black. A brief crawl around the asteroid, which also helped to warm up her muscles after days of inactivity, let her discern an attack force engaging the Alliance fleet. After a moment’s hesitation, weighing the risks, Terris activated her passive sensor suite to try and decrypt Alliance military chatter.
Instantly, her sensors were flooded with noise from the defensive bastions. The fleet base at the L5 point was loudest, its comm operators screaming indecipherably at fellow Alliance elements fighting in the black. Neldian orbit, where the hypercom station was, seemed to be the centerpiece of all the communications traffic. The hypercom, unsurprisingly, was being used as a relay for comm traffic all across the system. Terris made a note to hack its server banks for intelligence, and perhaps leave a timed virus or two to shut down the system after she was gone.
Her suit bleeped, alerting her that she was in optimum position to make the leap to the hypercom. She zoomed in on it, a red and spiked thing just like everything else the Alliance made, and calculated the right trajectory to land right on its metal surface.
Trying to jump from a moving asteroid out past Neldia’s rings and hit a hypercom station barely three hundred meters in diameter was like shooting a rifle from a jumbo jet in hopes of hitting a mosquito down on Earth. A nearly impossible shot, even with Coalition computers to help make the jump, and anyone lucky enough to make it would have been better served bankrupting their local casino at the slot machines.
Terris gave a command to her suit, activating a set of ion thrusters to boost her off the asteroid and adjust her course mid-flight. She’d never believed in luck.
She coasted silent and graceful past the particle guns in high orbit, like a majestic swan flying on a summer wind. Their sensor arrays were directed out, past her, to the far distant parts of space where a trillion tons of steel were locked in deadly battle. Terris really did wish she could smile at the moment. She was about to have unrestricted access to the biggest communications relay in the star system, able to send out viruses and receive vital intelligence that could cripple the Alliance fleet if placed in the right hands. Terris, confident as ever, knew they would be.
She would make the Neldian Armada burn, and they had no idea she was even coming.
She reached the hypercom station in just under a day, agonizingly slow for a woman like her, hovering just above its surface to avoid triggering pressure sensors. After that, it was simple enough to get inside. Terris found it almost trivial to bypass the airlock sensor grid and trigger the outer bulkhead to open unnoticed, its report to the command room destroyed before it ever arrived. Entering the station itself was easy after that.
Here, there was gravity. She could not hover like she had on the outside of the station. But here, there were no pressure sensors. She really had no need to hover.
The corridor she found herself in was large enough, though nothing like the expansive halls of a dreadnought, and a patrol of marines in powered suits trundled towards her obliviously. Terris had made the right call not to wear a Phantom powered suit. She ducked into an alcove, the chameleon suit concealing her from even their impressive sensor batteries, and they passed by with no clue at all.
Terris made it to the server banks with ease. Most of the hypercom’s security measures took the form of warships in orbit, clustered tightly around the planet to prevent exactly this scenario from happening, but those warships were off waging war. The station defenses were hopeless now that she was actually inside.
The data was encrypted, and she could neither access it nor copy it without potentially fatal consequences, but she wasn’t there to steal data. A brief, milliseconds-long connection to the primary server was all it took to riddle the entire system with custom-tailored computer viruses. The viruses were self-replicating, rather like an electronic version of the biological ones on Earth. They worked similarly, too, meant to latch onto outgoing communications signals and remain inert for a certain amount of time before activating and wreaking havoc across cyberspace.
The program would be scoured from the net in seconds once it began its assault, but it would cause plenty of chaos before then. And, with another critical transmission being scheduled to send at around that time, Terris knew her mostly-ineffective virus attack would be just enough of a distraction to make sure its message was heard.
Terris planned to leave the station in approximately thirty minutes. Shortly after that, the fireworks would begin. It was going to be beautiful.
She heard footsteps. A maintenance worker, no doubt. It was time for her to go. She disconnected from the server, taking pains to hide her involvement, and snuck out of the server room like a ghost in the night.
Next was the transmission array. This room was better-guarded, its door being flanked by marines, but Terris slipped inside by trailing behind an officer as he entered on some unknown pretext. After that, her daring and sleight of hand made sure Admiral Dama’s pre-recorded propaganda transmission was uploaded to the hypercom transmitter. It came with a set of instructions bearing the Admiralty’s seal, changed to be anonymous, to ensure as many people as possible heard his message.
In just under one standard hour, the United Human Alliance would be shaken to its very core. Terris had just made sure of it.
It took longer than she had expected for the door to open again and give her a chance to slip out. Terris had spent that time quite productively, downloading as many incoming and outgoing messages as she could to the internal hard drive just by her spinal cord. Even if they were encrypted, they’d be useful intelligence once Coalition codebreakers took a crack at them.
After that, it was trivial to slip past marine patrols and escape to the hull of the hypercom station. Terris found her ride, an Alliance warship by the name of Brightest Thunder, holding orbit just near the hypercom station. Admiral Dama, even if he was no longer an admiral, still had connections.
She charged her ion thrusters by tapping into the station reactor, an act which did not go unnoticed, but by then it was too late to respond. She had completed her incursion. The damage had been done. Perhaps if the Alliance acted swiftly and accurately, they could undo it, but Terris was a careful woman. She had covered her tracks well.
Waving one final goodbye to the crew of the hypercom station, Terris triggered her thrust pack and shot off into the ink.
“You must be my passenger.” A man in an Alliance captain’s uniform was waiting for her in the Brightest Thunder’s airlock. He wore a helmet and gloves, hermetically sealed to his airtight outfit, so he felt no effects from the vacuum of space. “I was sent by Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama,” he announced after a period of silence, “To transport you and whatever you may have safely to the Coalition fleet.” Nothing. Apart from the dull thudding of the ship’s railgun batteries, firing missiles at range to ward off a strike force of Coalition ships, the airlock was quiet as a ghost.
“You cannot expect me to endanger my life and the lives of my crew without at least some identification that you are who you claim to be!” Silence. Captain Senar Trevy had been standing in that airlock for three and a half hours, while his ship was tasked with screening Neldia and her eighteen billion inhabitants from harm, and he was just now wondering if he had been talking to a ghost.
“I am,” came a voice. Cold. Sterile. Inhuman. Exactly the kind Trevy expected from the secret spies of his former admiral.
“So you are.” Captain Trevy thought for a moment. He cycled the airlock. If his guest held hostile intent, one steel bulkhead would make no difference. “I’ve been stocking the crew with handpicked men and women since I received word of the operation,” he explained as they walked through the ship’s corridors. The crewmen he passed thought him insane. “I can’t vouch for them all, but the ship as a whole will obey me.” No response. Sometimes, Captain Trevy thought himself insane as well.
“This is my personal quarters,” he told the specter, stepping inside and sealing the door behind him. “I must warn you, for your own safety, it would be best not to leave it. The crew are mostly still Alliance loyalists.” He looked around, paying no heed to the decorated furniture or artificial sky, and finally shrugged and sighed. “Are you even here, still?”
Terris decloaked. She stood between him and the door, winged and cloaked in black like a demon of ancient myth. “I am.”
“You’re a black angel.” Senar Trevy, to his credit, kept his composure well. “A spy for the Ierad Republic.” He questioned her purpose here. They both knew it.
“You weren’t told?”
“I was told an alien would be coming aboard, but…” Trevy shrugged again, as if to say ‘what am I supposed to do?’ “The admiral vouched for you. That much is enough for me.” He also knew he had no choice in the matter. From what he knew about black angels, his ship had been lost the moment she boarded.
“I could have impersonated him,” said Terris, voice a perfect replica of Captain Trevy’s own. Even his own mother could not have told the difference. “And I’m trained to lie.” She was testing him, gauging his reaction to assess his personality. She was good at that.
“I could have you screened for deception,” Trevy countered, pointing up at a pearl-sized camera in the ceiling. Terris made a note that it was disabled. “And I could have had the technology officers vet your transmission.”
“I’m trained to lie well.” Terris sat down on Captain Trevy’s bed, a spartan thing compared to the sleeping quarters of most officers. There were no chairs in the room, so her options were few. She took off her helmet and tried to at least appear relaxed. In reality, she was anything but. “It comes with the job, really.”
“Fair,” Trevy chuckled, feigning calm. “I suppose the question now becomes whether or not you can trust me.”
“It’s a safe gamble.” Terris made a mental calculation. It would take her between thirty and fifty seconds to kill Captain Trevy, take the bridge, and vent the ship. That was a very safe gamble. “Besides, that’s what a peace treaty is.” Trevy looked confused. “A leap of faith. You trust your enemy to back their word, and you trust them to trust you as well. If we can’t get along here, can’t put aside our differences to work toward a common goal, then the Alliance will be right. And I hate it when they’re right.”
“I’m speaking to you now because I know they are wrong.” That came as no surprise to either of them. “You know, I was once a foreman of a labor crew in the munitions factories. The most productive unit in my sector.” That one did come as a surprise. “As a foreman, you get leeway to make certain decisions regarding the… well, I suppose they are slaves, under your command. Food intake and the like.” Captain Trevy looked pained when he brought up such memories. Terris wasn’t convinced that was how he really felt. “They use it to weed out any potential xeno sympathizers from the populace. Of course, at the time, I wasn’t so empathetic.”
“So you were a slave driver, and you beat your slaves to make them work. I hope every one of those shells was sabotaged.” Terris’ voice dripped with disdain. She had almost forgotten the Alliance captain was her enemy.
“No, I showed mercy,” Trevy defended himself. “I was generous.” This made Terris reconsider. Perhaps Senar Trevy could be an ally, if not a friend. “I won’t say I was a good man, but I wasn’t cruel. I was practical. Strong, healthy, well-treated workers are more productive than the beaten sacks of flesh in the other factories. My crew’s output was unmatched.”
“And?” Terris cocked her head inquisitively. For a high-ranking officer in the space navy of a genocidal regime, Senar Trevy really did not seem so bad. To be fair, however, she had set the bar pretty low.
“I was investigated for anti-human activity.” Terris could have predicted that. She almost did, too. “They sent me to the fleet, and my labor crew was reacquainted with the energy whips and pain beams.” There was no carrot for an Alliance labor slave. Only the stick. “Their productivity fell thirty percent in the first two weeks alone.” He sounded almost mournful as he said that. He was not lamenting the loss in productivity.
“You see,” said Trevy, “Hatred is not natural. It has to be caused, sustained, nurtured from the day a man is born until the day he dies.” With that, at least, Terris agreed. “And, as you’re about to see, a nation built around cruelty or prejudice cannot sustain itself. It will have to apply pressure to maintain its flawed status quo, like it did with me, and the pressure will build and build until it cannot build anymore.” He tapped a few buttons on the data disc in his hand. It began projecting an image of the battle for Neldia. He placed it on the bed next to Terris. “Now it’s breaking.”
“I wonder if they’ll find themselves in need of more shells.” Terris knew it wasn’t just shells. Every time a slave driver prioritized hatred over hard work, put cruelty over their quota, or even just bowed their head and obeyed the traditional dogma, they hurt the Alliance. Across nine worlds, with billions of slaves not working as they could have, things started to add up. “You know, for a superior species, your fleet is really getting its ass kicked right now. Might want to work on that.”
Captain Trevy nodded. His data disc beeped. He was needed on the bridge. “Agreed,” he said. “I hope this war ends soon, and to our mutual benefit. I’d hate to face you on the battlefield.” He picked up the data disc and turned to leave.
“Oh, forgot to mention, there’s a virus embedded in the transmissions you’ve received. Self-replicating. Nasty piece of work.” Terris shifted a bit in her seat. “Almost forgot about that.”
“Well, better to know now than when it’s activated,” Trevy smiled. “I’ll have Technology Officer Galdir investigate it.” With that, he left. His duty to the Alliance was nonexistent, but the men and women under his command still needed him. He had waited too long in the stateroom.
Terris, with nothing better to do, got to work on cracking the encryption in the transmissions she had copied. She failed. A transmission from deep in unknown space, sent from a dreadnought at the head of a task force known only as the Deep Expedition Fleet, was the only message she could read. Its contents, while troubling, mattered little at the moment. What was far more crucial, however, was the message Terris could not decipher. The military battle plan of Janus Ora’s personal armada.
The battle plan that, when analyzed on a Republic starship, would reveal its terrible secret too late.
The Coalition fleet was walking into a trap.
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2024.05.18 21:11 CrippleWitch I hate that I only get one specific kind of praise for taking care of my disabled dad

Y’all this is a rant and I just need to yell into the void a minute.
My dad has ALS. Not sure which kind, but it started affecting him two years ago as a difficult time walking and now he only has control over one arm and the rest of him is rigid and spastic and in pain. He can still talk and his mind is more or less fine, but this man went from Master of the Universe, ultra independent type of guy to “brain in a jar that feels pain” within two years. It’s heart breaking and I hate it. Fuck ALS.
I live in the city about an hour’s drive from my folks’ place so until last month I was only visiting and cooking meals once or twice a week. After I got him linked into the Veterans Affairs system he finally started getting good equipment and treatment (ALS is considered a “presumptive disability” which means if you served in the military at any time and then developed ALS after they just assume the military caused it and they give you 100% disability) and they also gave us a grant to retrofit the house to make it more accessible for him. So during the refit I’ve been here 24/7 to care for dad as we had to put him in the ADU on our property while the contractors do their work. He is confined either to his fancy hospital bed, recliner, or power chair and transferring him to any of those requires two people. I’m basically his body man/gofeattendant.
What kills me is that the only kind of praise I get is “oh you’re such a good daughter! How lucky he is to have two girls to take care of him!” (My sister and mom share in care taking but since I’ve shown up they are taking a back seat) The implication that I’m only able to do this because I’m a woman bugs the crap out of me. I plan out things he may need, I anticipate a lot of his requests, I’m patient and calm when he speaks or complains of pain, I’m proactive in helping him with daily acts of living like washing or toileting. None of this is because I’m a chick and must have that “motherly instinct”. I have ZERO instinct like that. What I do have is a soldier’s mindset (he was Navy, I was Army, it’s fun) and a soldier knows that preparation and intelligent anticipation is the key to a successful anything. A soldier knows that the best time to solve a problem is before it happens, so you don’t get caught off guard. A soldier understands that situational awareness keeps you safe and sound.
I’m a good caretaker because I was a good soldier. Dad is “so easy” for me because he knows I respect him as a person and treat him that way. He sees my military mindset and appreciates the active care I give.
It’s not biology, dammit. I was trained for battle, and progressive ALS is the most insidious enemy I’ve faced. My mom and sister are also women and they don’t do what I do (they are lovely care givers but they are definitely “reactive” and not “proactive”). They aren’t any less of a woman for it so why is the only assumption that I’m good at it because I’m a woman?!
It’s not like I’m looking for praise, I shouldn’t get a gold star for doing what’s right. But it just feels so invalidating that these people reduce me down to stupid gender roles instead of just complimenting the care I give as an individual.
That’s all. I feel better now.

submitted by CrippleWitch to TwoXChromosomes [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 21:08 OldMedium8246 How to organize a birthday party?

My son is turning 1 in a few weeks and I am SO excited. My husband and I booked a shelter at a local park that we get all day, but party is just from 2-4. I’ve ordered personalized invitations and mailed out the majority of them. Finishing up this weekend. I bought dinosaur-themed plates and cups. I bought his birthday outfit and a back-up. Bought a little dinosaur decoration for his high chair and some cake toppers. Plan to order his cake soon. Already have some streamers from previous parties. I haven’t gotten his gift(s) yet but money is tight and of course we’re getting him something special, but I know either way he’d be happy with just a box lol. Getting balloons the day or two before, I took a few days off of work just for prep and our local party store does the orders same-day or next day for helium balloons, you can’t order this far in advance. For food we’re just going to order pizza and wings. Will be 20-30 people.
If I’m missing any of the tangible things needed let me know, but I’m mainly concerned about how the party will actually run. What do you DO at a 1 year old’s birthday party? I thought maybe a short party game or two would be fun. Perhaps a game, then food, then sing happy birthday and cake? I know there’s a tradition where the person with the next birthday pulls the knife out of the first cake cut. I still hate most holidays because I don’t know any of the traditions and feel dumb, but I love birthdays and Christmas and want to make them special for my son. And in this case since he won’t remember, not look stupid in front of everyone else. ☹️

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2024.05.18 21:04 Unhappy-Detail6194 Rant: Got kicked from my “secure employment”

Long time lurker. First time poster anywhere. I have worked at 2 Dairy Queen locations, I worked from 16-17 at one, and then from 18 I worked at another until I left for college, and then would come back each summer and it worked well. My boss was flexible with my hours and it helped with stress of summer expenses. The problem began 2 years ago when he brought his niece in and she brought a friend. They were both working 50 hours a week while the rest of us had 20 hours or less a week. This is when I noticed the store going downhill.
We are a treat only store, and I started to notice a lot of issues. There was mold in the cheese, there was an ant infestation, there were so many fruit flies that I think I had some in my lungs, there was a pipe blocked so nasty water would spill onto the floor, there would be one girl taking off her shoes, sleeping on the job, and always on her phone. I didn’t necessarily want to go back but it’s the summer before my last year and it’s a short summer due to summer classes. My boss last summer before I left for college pulled me to the side and told me he knew I was upset about the lack of hours, and if I let him know more than a month in advance if I was coming back my employment position would be secure and I would have a minimum of 20 hours per week
March 7th I tell him when I plan to be back in town and if I could work over the summer and have when I was leaving as well. He said ok, my start date was planned and I thought everything was good. My old coworker that still works there was filling me in before I came back because the niece was gone but her friend was still there and the friend brought her sister in. My old worker (we will call her Patty (not real name)) had asked my boss if I was gonna come back. He confirmed yes. Cut to April 29th, right before finals and I’m supposed to start May 9th. Patty recommends me to text him and confirm my start because he brought in 2 more girls to work as well, one being an old coworker that hadn’t worked in 3 years and her sister. Patty confirmed I was starting May 9th, and she confirmed that with the boss on April 26th. I asked April 28th to confirm my start date. That’s when he told me that he is good with staffing and doesn’t need anyone else. I will admit I acted in anger and sent him a long 2 part text message pretty much saying how he was going back on his word and how it is unfair to me and it was unprofessional.
I did manage to get a job for the 2 months I am here thanks to my lovely bosses near my college who helped me so much (I love them so much 🫶) but because it was so last minute I don’t get many hours. It was just so much stress I did not need right before and throughout finals. At least I never have to go back though.

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2024.05.18 20:55 LIS1050010 Leather Furniture Vs. Wooden Furniture

Wooden furniture provides warmth, finesses, richness, and comfort to every corner of your home. Bed frames, cupboards, shelves, tables, and chairs are all the essential benefits of wood furniture that one cannot overstate. However, the furniture industry has given many other options to choose furniture from. Likewise, these days, leather furniture is slowly in demand, for it not only looks classy but is perfect for vintage decoration. Whether to go for wooden furniture or leather furniture, this article will help you out to find the answer and choose the most optimum one.

Wooden furniture: Advantages

Beginning with the wooden furniture, it offers an excellent blend of excellent appeal and structural integrity, which is hardly reflected by other materials’ furniture. Wood is a vital element of nature, and therefore it successfully establishes a connection to the interior decoration transforming the mood and appeal of the entire house. It creates a welcoming and homely feeling and an utterly organic sense. Wood is used from generation to generation for various purposes offering quintessential quality hard to replicate.
The reasons behind wood being a prominent favorite for furniture can make a detailed and long list. But here is a gist of benefits of wooden furniture:

1. Durability and strength

Wood has robust and long-lasting properties making it a perfect selection for people who desire to have longevity while buying furniture. Both hardwood and softwood have innately stable and are reliable enough to make furniture.
The durability of wooden furniture ensures the full value of your money. Even if you ever wish to sell the furniture, it will be looking as sturdy and durable as it was when you bought it. It also brings easy maintenance and oiling, waxing, and polishing should be done occasionally.

2. Feel and look

Wood adds a certain amount of charm and dignity to every room, matching the other interior decorations. When a skilled artisan crafts it, he does it with a boundless potential bringing innovative designs and aesthetic allure to life in the form of the wooden furniture.
As said, wood is capable of adding charm and dignity to a room, irrespective of it being a lighter-colored material or darker hues. Also, when excellent craftsmen craft them, there is a vast scope for creativity to bring on beautiful allure to furniture.

3. Sustainability and Variety

When you source the wooden furniture from a certified supplier, it represents sustainability, which is an ecologically friendly way to furnish your dream home. Take a look at Wellington’s Fine Leather Furniturefor a variety of furniture options to choose from. It is a renewable building material, so the carbon footprints are lower in this case.
Apart from sustainability, wooden furniture comes in varied colors and tones, meaning you have ample alternatives in terms of styles and looks.

Leather furniture: Advantages

In the case of leather furniture, take a note that is highly in demand and can be found in almost every home. There are many benefits of leather furniture too. So if you are having any doubts about which kind of furniture to buy, here are some top advantages of leather furniture to clear your head and reach a final decision.

1. The stunning looks:

Trust this that you won’t be able to look away from the stunning and classy looks of leather furniture. It will surely make your heart skip a tiny beat. It’s of aesthetic value, adding a sense of class to your living room. Giving an inviting appeal, leather comes with a gentle sheen making it looks more pristine. Besides, it’s not something that can go through wear and tear. On the contrary, it lasts long and even longer for many years if you take care of it the right way. Usually, leather furniture has consistent looks as compared to the furniture of other materials.

2. Care on the go:

It doesn’t require a lot of attention, and just a bit of regular dusting will make it last longer. Although leather conditioning is recommended every 6 to 12 months and it only takes a few minutes. Wiping down the conditioner on the leather with a damp cloth will do the care. If you want some extra shine, use some quality ensured polishing agent on it.

3. Hypoallergenic nature:

Leather furniture is optimum for the creation of a hypoallergenic environment. Since it is entirely resistant to dirt, animal dander, and dust, it is hard to get allergies. On the opposite, fabric furniture tends to lock in allergenic elements and make it challenging to create a comforting, healthy, and anti-allergy environment. Leather is a material that is resistant to liquids as well and doesn’t absorb them. Proper care of leather furniture adds some extra years to its life. It is a lifetime investment bringing good returns if you would plan to sell it in the long run.

Source

submitted by LIS1050010 to selfreliance [link] [comments]

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