Pics made of keyboard symbols
/r/PhonesAreBad
2016.04.25 19:30 Supercoolguy7 /r/PhonesAreBad
A subreddit to showcase all of the pics and arguments people have that can be boiled down to "phones are bad".
2009.02.25 08:00 pallaviwensil r/Spanish: Learn, teach or discuss the 2nd most spoken language by natives
This is the biggest Reddit community dedicated to discussing, teaching, and learning Spanish. Answer or ask questions, share information, stories, and more on themes related to the 2nd most spoken language in the world by native speakers.
2016.11.30 14:08 CustomKeyboards - For customs only!
A subreddit where your kustom with BoW can actually reach top post
2024.05.18 23:29 The-Mr-E Walk Me Home: Dating a Monster Girl - Part 13 - Eyescraper
SYNOPSIS: Walking your OP monster girlfriend home is easy. No one messes with you. Getting back to your house on your own? That's the tricky part.
What's worse than an eldritch building? How 'bout a bigger one?
First Previous (See NEXT>> in comments)
Chapter Cover Art (From Mood Writing Sample)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Norman took one look at the towering building to his left. Then he took off.
.
.
The new hunting cry boomed through his body. It was much louder than the first building’s, albeit shorter, like a tap on the shoulder from a titan proclaiming its presence to the world.
Of course, the tap of a titan could flatten a man.
Norman fell. His legs had simply stopped working. Jaws clenched, he forced his will into wobbly muscles. His palms slammed into the waterlogged street, stopping the fall. With a sharp push, he sprang back to his feet and ran on.
Norman yanked out the remaining two flash grenades on the go, strung them together, armed and drew back for a throw.
.
.
.
That quick boom pounded through him. His fingers faltered. The flash grenades slipped from his grip and fell. He was still recovering from the sound when they went off at his feet. The nightsight filtered the flash, so he didn’t go blind. He’d gutted the flash grenade’s speakers, so he didn’t go deaf. The peeping building could deafen him all on its own … no, this wasn’t a peeping building. He’d slew a peeping building. They were small fries by comparison.
This was an eyescraper.
Tentacles the width of busses unsheathed from its sides. Even if he’d managed to launch the grenades and bathe it in smitelight, he suspected that wouldn’t be enough.
Norman sliced at its eyes with a focused beam. It barely flinched. Maybe if it got close enough, he could affect it a bit. By then, it would be too late.
Throbbing chuffs thundered from the monster. It sounded like a laugh.
Norman shot it a defiant glare. He bolted. Not fast enough. He could feel the giant closing in. So, he moved faster. Then faster, and still faster. His muscles blared their warnings. Rain lashed his face. He felt the air begin to resist his movements as he reached a speed at which it mattered. It was in his way, so he pushed through it too. No one was there to tell him he was moving far faster than any human known to history. All he cared about was hearing that thing fall behind him, and so it did. The tremours of its tremendous movements grew fainter.
At the end of the street, an apartment building came into view. Norman threw himself against it, climbing with the reckless abandon of a madman. He was halfway to the top.
.
.
.
His grip went limp. He fell. Struck the ground. His head bounced. The world grew fu...z z y.
.
.
.
W
h
y
.
.
.
w
a
s
.
h
e
.
r
u
n
n
i
n
g
.
a
g
a
i
n
?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“̸̼͔̖̜̫͍͚̊́̽͆̓̂̋̋͐̕Ģ̴̢͕͉̯̺̗̖͔͙̪͓̻̯̫̭̙̱͕̠̭̩̌M̸̨̧̘̟̹̖̻̲͍̭͓͉̰͙̦̣̜͉̻̎̅͗̇̈́̈̏͌̓̾̀̈̈́͜M̵̢̢̖̯̦͍͕̝̯̥̹̪̠̥̰̝̖̊͛̀̇͜!̵̢̡̡͚͕̘̟͕̥̦̪͆̈́̿͆!̴̛̹͈̜̥͔̬͎̪̩͚̦̯̟̘̩̰̳̍̑̂́̌͌̎́̒͋̽̿̑͌͝͝!̴̛̥͕̪͂̂̂̈̓͆͗̇̄̈́̌̅̎͂̕̚̕͝͠”̷̧̧̛̠̝̰̞̘͙̥̖͎̭̞̜̳̟̓͆̌̊̃̔́͒͋̇̈́͘̚͠͝ͅ
.
.
Oh, right. There was a skyscraper running him down. To think he lived in a world where that made any sense. He rubbed his throbbing head. It was hard to think, though.
In two twos he jumped onto the side of the building and kept going up and up without breaking the momentum of the leap. Adrenaline had challenged gravity. Gravity lost. There was no pause to assess handholds. There was no rain stinging his face. In his mind, there was only ‘CLIMB, CLIMB, CLIMB!’ Crest the rooftop. ‘RUN, RUN, RUN!’ Descend the other side ‘JUMP!’ Gravity greedily reclaimed Norman, dragging him 4 storeys down at breakneck speed. He hit the ground in a parkour roll. Bruised a bone. Nearly fractured a shoulder. Wrenched his spine. Joints, muscle, ligaments almost popped. They didn’t.
He was running again.
Norman had never heard a building shred like paper. He’d never thought to wonder what it sounded like.
*( ( BMMM! ) ) ( ( BMM! ) ) ( ( BOOM! ) ) *
Those booms … was it the eyescraper’s tentacles breaking the sound barrier, or punching holes through the apartment building? Maybe both. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was tearing the building in two with the ease of one parting curtains. Buildings were not designed to be parted. Two became legions as the sundered building collapsed.
Norman rushed for an abandoned truck, slid beneath the trailer. Not quite fast enough. Most of the rubble didn’t reach him directly, but upon hitting the ground? It pulverised into a blast of cloud like a sandstorm. Hissing beneath the trailer, the dust stung at his ankles. He ignored it, racing for the truck’s cabin at the front. Perched on the step beneath the door, he braced as the dust raced beneath, around and above him. The cabin was his shield. He flinched to a duck when its windows shattered as the dust cloud blasted straight through them. The truck rocked and slid slightly, bombarded by wind and dust. It lurched as a chunk of debris finally reached it, crumpling the trailer like cheap foil.
Time to move.
Particles prickled Norman’s eyes, finding their way through the nightsight. He took a fresh glimpse of the path ahead before clouds of grey engulfed it all.
Memorised.
He dashed on. A split second later, the cabin was levelled under a larger slab of concrete. More sporadically thundered down around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, denying entry to any more particles. He scrambled through the street, dodging obstacles from memory. As for the concrete rainfall that couldn’t be seen? He had some prayers about that, but it probably came out like half-baked gibberish.
Norman chanced opening his eyes. They watered like crazy. At least most of the dust was gone. Behind him, the eyescraper’s menacing silhouette was picking through the rubble. Finally, an unblocked street was in sight. He rounded the corner.
.
“̵̨̢̮͕̻̲̺́͠G̵̣̒́̓̽̅̊͘͝Ọ̷̝̣͓͙͔̀ͅͅǪ̷̜̺͚̲̯̭̈́̍͂͑̋̋̅͂̅́M̷̨̤̭͈̯̤͋̾̏̈̅̉̀̏͘M̵̡̢̙̱͌̊̓͒́͌Ḿ̸̳͗̀̀͐͒͗́͠ͅ!̷͍͉̣̪̫͙̳̲̤̎̀̾̅̈́̔̎̑͘͜͝͝!̴̨͈͖̘̖̅͛̋̽͠!̸͎̩͓̫̥̼̫̊”̵̫̗̞̣̝̃̅̕͘͜͜͝ͅ
.
Another peeping building, rumbling in from the new street. Alright. Straight it was.
.
“̷̢̧̻̹͚͔̾G̵̳̭̾̃̎̍̌̂̈́̂͛͘M̶̧̠͇͔͚͉̮͈̰͒͊́̏̔̄̾̊͐̒͂͜M̸̳͓̋͋̔͑̔̔̕͝Ő̷͓̟̱̮͓̍̂̾̽̇͘͠Ô̸̧̫͉̮͚̥̥̯̈̾͋̅͂͘̚M̶̢̫̥̰̮̪͙̬̙̗̺̽͒͐͌̋̈̄͆͝M̴̢̧̧̛̗͔͓̫̭̳̱͑̉!̵̡̛̛͍̲̓̅̑̈́̿̏͘̕͠!̸̧̖͔̣̩̏́͋̀͛͂̏̀̇̑͐!̴̧͕̝̮̤̱͈̬͋”̸͓̉̈́̑̎͊̌
.
Maybe not. A third building emerged from the rainfall ahead. All streets blocked. He glanced about. All alleys still blocked. This really was a hunting net, but this much energy for a tiny human? Predators weren’t usually like this.
He ran for the nearest building that wasn’t occupied by eldritch calamari.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Norman came to. Rain poured against his face as he lay on his back. How long was he out? Why was it so cold? The atmosphere didn’t quite feel right. It didn’t look right either. Something about the colours, or subtle lack thereof. Everything seemed a bit desaturated. Norman sat up and coughed his lungs out, evicting a mix of dust and rain water collected in his slackly gaping mouth. Buildings towered above him on every side, a bit too close for comfort.
.
“̸̮̼͍̻̯̲̹͓̬̻̓̍G̷̛̖̙̰̰̟̓Ḿ̸̧̨͊̊̔͒͌̆͆͘͠͝M̷̧̺̏̿̆͑͆͋̅͌̕͝G̵̰̺͇̺̯̲͇̠͖͂͜M̸̡̨͕̹̗̥̎͑́̾!̸͇͙͚̝̩͕̙̒!̵͙̬̮̪̏̍!̶͔̪͉̙̘̃̐̄͝”̶̡̡̥̫̻̝̜̫͙̩͛ͅ
.
Oh, right, those weren’t just buildings.
Norman raised a finger, gesturing to wait. “Could you *kaff!* quit subwoofin’ at me for, like, ten seconds!”
“Plucky.̵͚͐͝ for all seasons I .̵̦̺͐̅see,” came a skin-crawling voice from behind him.
Norman swung back his smitelight. It barely moved half a foot, then it stopped. Rather, something stopped it. That ‘something’ was cold. So cold. His wrist felt the chill without even touching it.
Norman turned, slowly, so as not to trigger further attacks. He found himself looking up.
Eight feet tall. Dark grey skin. A grin that went a little too wide. Dagger teeth. An open-chested jacket, revealing sinewy muscles with luminous markings like tattoos. His ebony eyes bore penetrating white pupils. Of all his traits, the dreadlocks stood out most. They belonged in a nightmare, dancing through the air with a life of their own. Somehow, they looked blacker than black, absorbing every ray of light or heat that came their way. That icy chill in the air shifted with the movements of his dreadlocks. They seemed to drink life from the air itself. Norman almost found it hard to breathe. One dreadlock clutched Norman’s smitelight, only by the tip, but its grip was iron.
Norman stared the tall man down.
The nyctal’s grin grew by a smidgeon.
Taking a calculated risk, Norman released the smitelight. Perhaps a peace offering would do good.
“Good.̷̧͋͌̎̿ boy,” the tall man nodded, admiring the smitelight as the dreadlock rotated it. “Clever.̴̧̤̩͈͓̖͂ͅ toy.”
Norman noted an understated Jamaican accent in his voice.
More dreadlocks slithered across the smitelight, as if tasting its every nook and cranny.
Norman did his best to look casual as he scanned for an escape route. The eyescraper’s tentacles had wrapped around the street, fencing him in.
“Your fanbase has peculiar tastes,” purred the tall man.
Norman’s suspicious gaze flicked between the nyctal and the weapon. Finally, he reached out and took hold of the smitelight.
It crumbled in his fingers like ice-cold ashes. If not for the insulation gloves, he might have gotten frostbite.
The nyctal laughed.
Norman didn’t find it particularly amusing.
The tall man sauntered towards the eyescraper. Beyond it was a darkness even the nightsight had difficulty piercing. He beckoned Norman as if it were an afterthought.
“Please come in, .̵̭̻͌̓̂Norman.̶̲͕͇̅̑̚,” the nyctal instructed.
Norman stared stubbornly, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. He felt for his smartphone. It wasn’t there. When had he lost it?
Without looking back, the nyctal held up Norman’s phone. It disintegrated between his fingers as he rubbed them together.
Norman glared. At least the guy hadn’t pickpocketed deeply enough to find other things.
“Hey. To whom do I owe the … pleasure?” Norman almost had to push the last word through his teeth.
The nyctal stopped in the eyescraper’s doorframe. Shrouded in shadow, little could be seen of him, save the piercing white pupils peering out. Then the glint of his Cheshire grin.
“.̴̜͓̭̻̤̍̈́̆͑͑John Crow.̸̻̮̓̈́̏̓͘,” he answered, before receding into the darkness.
The eyescraper’s tentacles dragged in across the street, corralling Norman towards the building. With an exasperated groan, he trudged towards the main entrance.
“I want my bed,” grumbled Norman.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Become a free member on Patreon to read Part 14, 'Sleeping Giant', early! It will be released there today or tomorrow. For the visual 'mood writing' version (previously called 'artitext') and more Caribbean sci-fi, become a paid member for only $3! See links in comments.
First Previous (See NEXT>> in comments)
submitted by The-Mr-E to HFY [link] [comments]
What's worse than an eldritch building? How 'bout a bigger one?
First Previous (See NEXT>> in comments)
Chapter Cover Art (From Mood Writing Sample)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Norman took one look at the towering building to his left. Then he took off.
.
.
“̷̵̵̷̶̷̶̶̸̶̶̸̴̡̛̮͉̹̪̼̙̤̲̤͔̗̮̥̣̜͓̟̞̃̔̈́̑̈̍͌̂̂̐̋͛̉̓G̵̶̸̷̴̸̵̵̴̶̸̷̸̴̶̨̢̧̞͈̠̜̳̪͎̬̜̱̫͚̝̩̑̒͐́͆̃̿̉̆̉̃̓̀̎̐͂̎̒̕̕͘͝͝Ǵ̷̷̷̴̸̸̷̷̷̷̵̨̢̞̥͓̰͖͙̰̝͖̩̺͍͎͉͌̽̂́͐̓̀͒̐͗́M̴̷̶̵̴̷̵̶̵̴̷̷̢̡̧̢̛̫̲͕͇̗̯͚̥͙͓͓̀̒͑͒̂̊̅̐͛̂̄͌̈̚͝M̴̷̶̵̴̷̷̶̷̬̼̭̗͍̺̳̩̱͍̂̄̾͂̔̽̇̀͝͝͝͠M̶̯̙̥͕̞̰̗̗͐̔!̸̞̞̬̼̖̩̈́̇͊͐̾͑͋̉!̷̧͈̘̬̆͑͝!̶̤̜̔̓̆̅̔͆͘͝”̸̨̧̼̭̫̒͜
.The new hunting cry boomed through his body. It was much louder than the first building’s, albeit shorter, like a tap on the shoulder from a titan proclaiming its presence to the world.
Of course, the tap of a titan could flatten a man.
Norman fell. His legs had simply stopped working. Jaws clenched, he forced his will into wobbly muscles. His palms slammed into the waterlogged street, stopping the fall. With a sharp push, he sprang back to his feet and ran on.
Norman yanked out the remaining two flash grenades on the go, strung them together, armed and drew back for a throw.
.
.
“̷̬̳̙̍̎̆G̴̥͇̥͔͕̫̈̀M̵̛͇̜͙͇̫͔̭̩̝̜̓̈̏̓̓̀͛̚͜͝͝M̷̩͈͉̘͙̿͌̃̽͂̃̏̏̓̾̈́͌̈́̉̅̄̉͘!̷̢̧̢̤͓̭̖̝̏̏̄̓̾̉̆͋͘͝!̵͍̱̼̮̯̺̲͙̖̮̗͓̻̓̊͂̒̔͐̎͘͘̚!̵̙͍̟̌͒̃͂̎͠”̶̡̛̠̱̭̞̹̟͉̒̎̎̂͂̐̈́̓̄̚̕
..
That quick boom pounded through him. His fingers faltered. The flash grenades slipped from his grip and fell. He was still recovering from the sound when they went off at his feet. The nightsight filtered the flash, so he didn’t go blind. He’d gutted the flash grenade’s speakers, so he didn’t go deaf. The peeping building could deafen him all on its own … no, this wasn’t a peeping building. He’d slew a peeping building. They were small fries by comparison.
This was an eyescraper.
Tentacles the width of busses unsheathed from its sides. Even if he’d managed to launch the grenades and bathe it in smitelight, he suspected that wouldn’t be enough.
Norman sliced at its eyes with a focused beam. It barely flinched. Maybe if it got close enough, he could affect it a bit. By then, it would be too late.
Throbbing chuffs thundered from the monster. It sounded like a laugh.
Norman shot it a defiant glare. He bolted. Not fast enough. He could feel the giant closing in. So, he moved faster. Then faster, and still faster. His muscles blared their warnings. Rain lashed his face. He felt the air begin to resist his movements as he reached a speed at which it mattered. It was in his way, so he pushed through it too. No one was there to tell him he was moving far faster than any human known to history. All he cared about was hearing that thing fall behind him, and so it did. The tremours of its tremendous movements grew fainter.
At the end of the street, an apartment building came into view. Norman threw himself against it, climbing with the reckless abandon of a madman. He was halfway to the top.
.
.
“̷̧̨̭̹̘̥̮͖̤̻̥̬̌̀͒̔͌̊̀̚͜͜͠Ǧ̶̨̨̧̺̘̰̗̘̥̝̗̦̩͖͎͋̈͑͐̒̽̉̔͛̾̒́̕ͅM̴̨̉́̾̉͂͆̔̿̀̃̇̎̍͆̂̽͗̔͘͠ͅM̷̝̻̱̆̍͜!̴̮̬̯̮̦̖́͂̆͋̿̇̎̄̄̅̂͑̎̀̕͘͝͝͝!̸̲͎̲̼̠̮̱͖̥̭̤̩͓̘̜͈̟̖̮̰̦͖̀̂͗͂̽̈́̋͌͂̐̓̈̕!̸̜̆̿̋̔̽̕”̷̢̦̜̰̼̳̝͓̆͗̈́̆̆̑̃̾͑̀͗͒͆́͐͒̈́̿̽̕̕͜
..
His grip went limp. He fell. Struck the ground. His head bounced. The world grew fu...z z y.
.
.
.
W
h
y
.
.
.
w
a
s
.
h
e
.
r
u
n
n
i
n
g
.
a
g
a
i
n
?
.
.
.
.
.
.
_CHAT
- LEMMY.OUTA.HERE: (Stupse) Well, he ded.
- BAJANETTE11: ARN74, JUST GO AND FIND HIM!!!
- ARN74: HE DIDN’T SEND ME DE PIN! DIS BAAARE STRESS! NORMAN, YOU PUNK! YOU EMOTIONALLY INVESTED ME IN THIS CHANNEL! IF YOU DIE NOW I’M GONNA KILL YOU!
_CHAT
- ARN74: YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN’T LEAVE AMY!!
.
.
“̸̼͔̖̜̫͍͚̊́̽͆̓̂̋̋͐̕Ģ̴̢͕͉̯̺̗̖͔͙̪͓̻̯̫̭̙̱͕̠̭̩̌M̸̨̧̘̟̹̖̻̲͍̭͓͉̰͙̦̣̜͉̻̎̅͗̇̈́̈̏͌̓̾̀̈̈́͜M̵̢̢̖̯̦͍͕̝̯̥̹̪̠̥̰̝̖̊͛̀̇͜!̵̢̡̡͚͕̘̟͕̥̦̪͆̈́̿͆!̴̛̹͈̜̥͔̬͎̪̩͚̦̯̟̘̩̰̳̍̑̂́̌͌̎́̒͋̽̿̑͌͝͝!̴̛̥͕̪͂̂̂̈̓͆͗̇̄̈́̌̅̎͂̕̚̕͝͠”̷̧̧̛̠̝̰̞̘͙̥̖͎̭̞̜̳̟̓͆̌̊̃̔́͒͋̇̈́͘̚͠͝ͅ
.
.
Oh, right. There was a skyscraper running him down. To think he lived in a world where that made any sense. He rubbed his throbbing head. It was hard to think, though.
_CHAT
- ARN74: TRY AN CLIMB DE TING OPPA!
In two twos he jumped onto the side of the building and kept going up and up without breaking the momentum of the leap. Adrenaline had challenged gravity. Gravity lost. There was no pause to assess handholds. There was no rain stinging his face. In his mind, there was only ‘CLIMB, CLIMB, CLIMB!’ Crest the rooftop. ‘RUN, RUN, RUN!’ Descend the other side ‘JUMP!’ Gravity greedily reclaimed Norman, dragging him 4 storeys down at breakneck speed. He hit the ground in a parkour roll. Bruised a bone. Nearly fractured a shoulder. Wrenched his spine. Joints, muscle, ligaments almost popped. They didn’t.
He was running again.
Norman had never heard a building shred like paper. He’d never thought to wonder what it sounded like.
*( ( BMMM! ) ) ( ( BMM! ) ) ( ( BOOM! ) ) *
SHHHHHRRRRRRMMMM!
Now he knew.Those booms … was it the eyescraper’s tentacles breaking the sound barrier, or punching holes through the apartment building? Maybe both. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was tearing the building in two with the ease of one parting curtains. Buildings were not designed to be parted. Two became legions as the sundered building collapsed.
Norman rushed for an abandoned truck, slid beneath the trailer. Not quite fast enough. Most of the rubble didn’t reach him directly, but upon hitting the ground? It pulverised into a blast of cloud like a sandstorm. Hissing beneath the trailer, the dust stung at his ankles. He ignored it, racing for the truck’s cabin at the front. Perched on the step beneath the door, he braced as the dust raced beneath, around and above him. The cabin was his shield. He flinched to a duck when its windows shattered as the dust cloud blasted straight through them. The truck rocked and slid slightly, bombarded by wind and dust. It lurched as a chunk of debris finally reached it, crumpling the trailer like cheap foil.
Time to move.
Particles prickled Norman’s eyes, finding their way through the nightsight. He took a fresh glimpse of the path ahead before clouds of grey engulfed it all.
Memorised.
He dashed on. A split second later, the cabin was levelled under a larger slab of concrete. More sporadically thundered down around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, denying entry to any more particles. He scrambled through the street, dodging obstacles from memory. As for the concrete rainfall that couldn’t be seen? He had some prayers about that, but it probably came out like half-baked gibberish.
Norman chanced opening his eyes. They watered like crazy. At least most of the dust was gone. Behind him, the eyescraper’s menacing silhouette was picking through the rubble. Finally, an unblocked street was in sight. He rounded the corner.
.
“̵̨̢̮͕̻̲̺́͠G̵̣̒́̓̽̅̊͘͝Ọ̷̝̣͓͙͔̀ͅͅǪ̷̜̺͚̲̯̭̈́̍͂͑̋̋̅͂̅́M̷̨̤̭͈̯̤͋̾̏̈̅̉̀̏͘M̵̡̢̙̱͌̊̓͒́͌Ḿ̸̳͗̀̀͐͒͗́͠ͅ!̷͍͉̣̪̫͙̳̲̤̎̀̾̅̈́̔̎̑͘͜͝͝!̴̨͈͖̘̖̅͛̋̽͠!̸͎̩͓̫̥̼̫̊”̵̫̗̞̣̝̃̅̕͘͜͜͝ͅ
.
Another peeping building, rumbling in from the new street. Alright. Straight it was.
.
“̷̢̧̻̹͚͔̾G̵̳̭̾̃̎̍̌̂̈́̂͛͘M̶̧̠͇͔͚͉̮͈̰͒͊́̏̔̄̾̊͐̒͂͜M̸̳͓̋͋̔͑̔̔̕͝Ő̷͓̟̱̮͓̍̂̾̽̇͘͠Ô̸̧̫͉̮͚̥̥̯̈̾͋̅͂͘̚M̶̢̫̥̰̮̪͙̬̙̗̺̽͒͐͌̋̈̄͆͝M̴̢̧̧̛̗͔͓̫̭̳̱͑̉!̵̡̛̛͍̲̓̅̑̈́̿̏͘̕͠!̸̧̖͔̣̩̏́͋̀͛͂̏̀̇̑͐!̴̧͕̝̮̤̱͈̬͋”̸͓̉̈́̑̎͊̌
.
Maybe not. A third building emerged from the rainfall ahead. All streets blocked. He glanced about. All alleys still blocked. This really was a hunting net, but this much energy for a tiny human? Predators weren’t usually like this.
He ran for the nearest building that wasn’t occupied by eldritch calamari.
( ( BOOMM! ) )
The eyescraper’s tentacle crossed his path. Its supersonic shockwave sent him flying..
.
.
.
.
.
Norman came to. Rain poured against his face as he lay on his back. How long was he out? Why was it so cold? The atmosphere didn’t quite feel right. It didn’t look right either. Something about the colours, or subtle lack thereof. Everything seemed a bit desaturated. Norman sat up and coughed his lungs out, evicting a mix of dust and rain water collected in his slackly gaping mouth. Buildings towered above him on every side, a bit too close for comfort.
.
“̸̮̼͍̻̯̲̹͓̬̻̓̍G̷̛̖̙̰̰̟̓Ḿ̸̧̨͊̊̔͒͌̆͆͘͠͝M̷̧̺̏̿̆͑͆͋̅͌̕͝G̵̰̺͇̺̯̲͇̠͖͂͜M̸̡̨͕̹̗̥̎͑́̾!̸͇͙͚̝̩͕̙̒!̵͙̬̮̪̏̍!̶͔̪͉̙̘̃̐̄͝”̶̡̡̥̫̻̝̜̫͙̩͛ͅ
.
Oh, right, those weren’t just buildings.
Norman raised a finger, gesturing to wait. “Could you *kaff!* quit subwoofin’ at me for, like, ten seconds!”
“Plucky.̵͚͐͝ for all seasons I .̵̦̺͐̅see,” came a skin-crawling voice from behind him.
Norman swung back his smitelight. It barely moved half a foot, then it stopped. Rather, something stopped it. That ‘something’ was cold. So cold. His wrist felt the chill without even touching it.
Norman turned, slowly, so as not to trigger further attacks. He found himself looking up.
Eight feet tall. Dark grey skin. A grin that went a little too wide. Dagger teeth. An open-chested jacket, revealing sinewy muscles with luminous markings like tattoos. His ebony eyes bore penetrating white pupils. Of all his traits, the dreadlocks stood out most. They belonged in a nightmare, dancing through the air with a life of their own. Somehow, they looked blacker than black, absorbing every ray of light or heat that came their way. That icy chill in the air shifted with the movements of his dreadlocks. They seemed to drink life from the air itself. Norman almost found it hard to breathe. One dreadlock clutched Norman’s smitelight, only by the tip, but its grip was iron.
Norman stared the tall man down.
The nyctal’s grin grew by a smidgeon.
Taking a calculated risk, Norman released the smitelight. Perhaps a peace offering would do good.
“Good.̷̧͋͌̎̿ boy,” the tall man nodded, admiring the smitelight as the dreadlock rotated it. “Clever.̴̧̤̩͈͓̖͂ͅ toy.”
Norman noted an understated Jamaican accent in his voice.
More dreadlocks slithered across the smitelight, as if tasting its every nook and cranny.
Norman did his best to look casual as he scanned for an escape route. The eyescraper’s tentacles had wrapped around the street, fencing him in.
_CHAT
- BAJANETTE11: 😳
- DARCIE222: okay, i’m back
- HARD-BACK-M8N: who you is again?
- DARCIE222: i left after the twilight angel sleep paralysis
- LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: And you’re back for more?
- DARCIE222: wonna know it impossible to stay away from a channel like dis
_CHAT
- DARCIE222: 😲 WHO IS THAT?!? AND WHY IS HE KIND OF …??? 😍
- MUNSTER-VERSER: I KNOW!!!
- BAJANETTE11: HE LIKE A VAMPIRE RASTA MAN! ❤❤❤
- ENTO_MOLLY: MOVE OVER MIGUEL O’HARA!! 😍🥰😘
- BAJANETTE11: NORMAN ASK FOR HE NUMBER!!!
- NORMAN: I HERE ABOUT TO DIE AND WONNA WANT HE PHONE NUMBER!?!
“Your fanbase has peculiar tastes,” purred the tall man.
_CHAT
- ENTO_MOLLY: 😳 Is … he talking about us? HE CAN SEE THE CHAT???
- DARCIE222: THE WAY HE SAID IT!!!
- DARCIE222: HBVJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJKL;K''
- LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Did she just pass out on the keyboard?
- LIKKLE-BOY: lol!
- ARN74: you’re simping. Norman’s about to die, and you’re simping
Norman’s suspicious gaze flicked between the nyctal and the weapon. Finally, he reached out and took hold of the smitelight.
It crumbled in his fingers like ice-cold ashes. If not for the insulation gloves, he might have gotten frostbite.
The nyctal laughed.
Norman didn’t find it particularly amusing.
The tall man sauntered towards the eyescraper. Beyond it was a darkness even the nightsight had difficulty piercing. He beckoned Norman as if it were an afterthought.
“Please come in, .̵̭̻͌̓̂Norman.̶̲͕͇̅̑̚,” the nyctal instructed.
Norman stared stubbornly, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. He felt for his smartphone. It wasn’t there. When had he lost it?
Without looking back, the nyctal held up Norman’s phone. It disintegrated between his fingers as he rubbed them together.
Norman glared. At least the guy hadn’t pickpocketed deeply enough to find other things.
“Hey. To whom do I owe the … pleasure?” Norman almost had to push the last word through his teeth.
The nyctal stopped in the eyescraper’s doorframe. Shrouded in shadow, little could be seen of him, save the piercing white pupils peering out. Then the glint of his Cheshire grin.
“.̴̜͓̭̻̤̍̈́̆͑͑John Crow.̸̻̮̓̈́̏̓͘,” he answered, before receding into the darkness.
The eyescraper’s tentacles dragged in across the street, corralling Norman towards the building. With an exasperated groan, he trudged towards the main entrance.
“I want my bed,” grumbled Norman.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Become a free member on Patreon to read Part 14, 'Sleeping Giant', early! It will be released there today or tomorrow. For the visual 'mood writing' version (previously called 'artitext') and more Caribbean sci-fi, become a paid member for only $3! See links in comments.
First Previous (See NEXT>> in comments)
2024.05.18 23:27 theblahblahmachine The stinkfest that is Stickeys.in
 | Hi all, submitted by theblahblahmachine to mkindia [link] [comments] I bought an Artnex GK75 some time last year. I started running into some battery related issues in January and reached out on Stickeys' discord. The dude asked be to raise a ticket which I did. The conversation is attached here in the screenshot. discord ticket As you can see, after some time of not recieving any response on the ticket, I started dm'ing him on the side parallely as well. This was another joy ride of a conversation. I can understand the slow response but I expect some truth in what you respond with. This, again, was missing. He says something but that never seemed to happen. Attaching the dm screenshots here: p1 p2 p3 After finally months of hounding him on discord, I finally manage to get him to send me the keyboard only to realize that he sent me the wrong keyboard. I was not informed of this prior to him sending it. I thought it was maybe a mistake. Happens to the best of us. I reached out to him. I told him I recieved the wrong keeb and I had sent a diff one for RMA. I get hit with "I sent you a new board bud". Yeah, shouldn've notified prior about this. What made the lad assume I would just "accept" it I have no idea. 2 days after his last message to me, I went to dm him again and that is when discord said I couldn't dm this guy and when I checked the discord group, I got notified of his "break" from discord and the company. Given how my interaction with him went all these months, I thought damn, exit scam for sure like many others and decided to come to terms with the fact that i got scammed and just call it a day. 2-3 days post that, he reopened the chat back again. I still couldn't send him dm's probably due to the restrictions he put. I tagged him on the general channel about a status update and got hit with "individual order queries, pls mail". Again, I obliged. I dropped a mail. Still half assed responses with 0 truth. Email thread attached: https://preview.redd.it/fcpprf7c591d1.png?width=2467&format=png&auto=webp&s=cfa2630d823dded4eba08be67002630bfd3f1477 "Expect tracking number today" on 15th May and dude disappeared again. Time and again, I see him playing the victim card in the discord channel but I have seen nothing that would convince me that his "struggles" are real and people are just hounding him for no reason. Whatever you do, just avoid stickeys if you care about any kind of support. I have ordered a couple of things from stickeys in the past without complaints but this one incident has left a sour taste in my mouth that nullifies it all. IDK what to do now. Any suggestions are helpful thanks. |
2024.05.18 23:25 ExpressionGeneral418 Why am I now a wreck when I wanted this all along?
First of all, I’d like to preface this story with a piece I wrote in my journal 2 months ago while still in my relationship.
Here it is:
I’m almost 30M, and wonder how you would deal with this situation?
Backstory: I didn’t have my first girlfriend or even sex until age 20. I was very sheltered when I was younger and shy. I also moved several times so never got the chance to meet girls from social circles. I had almost a 2 year long distance relationship from age 20-22 (seeing each other in person only a few times a year). Well that didn’t work out and it devastated me. I did truly love that girl and she was also my first so it took 3 years to get over.
In that time following the relationship, I slept with more than 10 people, gained experience, and eventually found another girlfriend in person at age 25. That ended at age 26, but was off and on until age 27. It ended for good reason, because it was a tumultuous relationship with a lot of fun, but also arguments. She was super attractive which made it hard to let her go even though I knew it had to be done.
Following that relationship, I yet again worked on myself, dated and slept around, and eventually met my current girlfriend midway through age 28. It was one of those situations where you start out just hanging out and eventually see each other every week… then the question of “what are we happens”… I went along with it even though my eyes were still peeled.
Well now, I’m almost 30, a few months away and I’m scared. A part of me feels like I missed a part of my youth and I’ll never find that stunner I’ve always looked for. Being sheltered all my life and not meeting anyone via social circle messes with me emotionally. I’ve dated beautiful woman, but it’s not like I can change time and go back to 25 again and date around 20 year olds… right?
I also moved to a completely different state and started a new life 2 years ago. But every day I think about my last relationship and the life I used to live in that state. “The good old days” I like to say. I have a new life now and good situation, but a part of me feels lost.
That’s what I wrote back in March. I knew I had a good situation, a very stable relationship and job, but I almost felt like I was still unfulfilled. Mostly because I never really experienced the kind of girls that truly interest me I guess? I hate to sound superficial, but if you read below it will make further sense. It wasn’t all about looks. While she was nice and sweet, she was rather boring and didn’t banter with me.
So fast forward the story to today, my recent ex broke up with me a few weeks ago. We had been dating about a year and a half.
I met her about a year and a half after that toxic relationship to a really manipulative, yet attractive girl I talked about above. This new relationship was the complete opposite, almost to the point of being cringey. She was really loving but it was almost overwhelming. She also was not as atractive as my last gf in terms of looks. Not unattractive by any means, but I certainly didn’t feel super proud walking around with her or introducing her to people. For much of the early part of meeting this new girl, I did still constantly think of the toxic ex and compare, but I was ready for something new and thought I was so far removed from the last relationship - I went along with it.
Anyway, Eventually she asked if I would be her bf at about the 3 month point after meeting. At first I was apprehensive of the idea because I wasn’t sure about committing and if I wanted to keep “searching.” I got to the point that I was done with hunting as I had tried tirelessly to find someone for over a year. She was a great girl but I wasn’t sold on a full on relationship. Instead of being excited to be official like I was in past relationships, with her I was hoping for more a fwb situation like it was the first 3 months. But I decided to go along with it. I told her I still wanted to be able to approach or work on social skills with other girls even if just plutonicly. I didn’t do that and did commit. Fast forward another several months and the I love you statement came up. I wasn’t entirely sure about how I felt but I again went along with it, even though I didn’t actually feel it at at the time.
This gf was a very loving, loyal, committed gf, and did anything for me. Unfortunately I didn’t really find her incredibly magnetizing. She was cute, but not crazy attractive in my eye. Like I mentioned above, I didn’t feel that proud feeling when going out.
I found that taking pictures with her also made me unsure. The first couple weeks of hanging out we never took pics. And then I took a picture with her and looked at it and was repulsed. When she would send me pictures of her with with her family, I didn’t like what she sent. Maybe she’s just not photogenic and actually good in person, but whenever she would send me a photo or FaceTime me I’d get turned off.
Also, the fact that she was so wholesome, it didn’t allow for much banter. Conversations were mostly plutonic, where I’m more of the sarcastic type.
She always wanted to pull out the calendar and schedule plans months in advance every week, even after telling her I prefered being spontaneous. She did all of these crazy google calendar overlays and I felt like I was always being sucked into things I didn’t want to do. She became more clingy than I had realized when I first met her. She asked me about 3 months ago, if we could spend not just weekends together, but also Wednesday nights. (We lived just over an hour apart). I suggested it could be every other week (the opposite)…I didn’t like going to her place because of the road noise where she lived and I would really only see her when she would visit me. I know, all of this sounds really one sided and like I’m an asshole. But I was very loving to her in person and she knows that, hence why it lasted so long.
Unfortunately a lot of things she did turned me off. She was too readily available, always trying to lock up my calendar, talk about marriage and kids in the next 3-5 years and I felt trapped. I was unsure.
We had great sex but it wasn’t crazy passionate, neither was our kissing. When alone, and was feeling aroused, I generally didn’t think of my ex. I constantly found myself checking out other girls places I went (but never talked to them). I felt like wow I wish that was the kind of girl I was with.
It wasn’t all bad though. The sex was phenomenal in terms of the movements. She made $100k plus which is phenomenal for someone at 24, but also had over $100k in student loans. With her wanting to get married within 5 years, I considered those loans as a big issue. She was super loving and would have been a great mother.
In the end she left me. She said we weren’t compatible. I have been a wreck and now I’m wishing I had her. Maybe not for the right reasons though?
I’m trying to figure out why if I wanted to end things myself and that I felt trapped for so long, how come all of a sudden I want her back? Is it just the void of not having someone loyal who’s there for me? The loss of a potential good wife and mother? Who can make plans and bake me things? The fear of not meeting someone as smart? She’s already talking to other guys and I’m just a wreck and need some advice. I can’t go an hour without thinking of her. I think I need to rewire the way I am thinking. I can’t stop thinking that maybe I made a mistake and should have put in more effort, but I feel like if I truly loved/had that spark for her I would have tried more all along. I would have been excited to make plans with her instead of going a week at a time seeing her. Now all I want to do is see her. Should I have stayed in it and worked harder? Are my standards too high? I feel like my first ex and my recent one were so polar opposite. One had the looks and I thought of her when thinking of sex but was toxic and the other was sweet but not as attractive. It even got to the point that to feel emotion, I had to finish inside her. Which did help.
At the time of the breakup, I tried very hard to tell her how I was looking forward to making a fun summer filled with plans together. Just 2 weeks prior she was about it. Now nothing. It’s been total silence on the other end for weeks. I know she loved me more than any guy.
Do you think this was a good thing this happened? How do I rewrire my brain? She was my only friend. This was a relationship that I went into going through the motions, and even a couple weeks before we broke up I wrote that journal entry / question that I shared above. What is going on?
submitted by ExpressionGeneral418 to BreakUps [link] [comments]
Here it is:
I’m almost 30M, and wonder how you would deal with this situation?
Backstory: I didn’t have my first girlfriend or even sex until age 20. I was very sheltered when I was younger and shy. I also moved several times so never got the chance to meet girls from social circles. I had almost a 2 year long distance relationship from age 20-22 (seeing each other in person only a few times a year). Well that didn’t work out and it devastated me. I did truly love that girl and she was also my first so it took 3 years to get over.
In that time following the relationship, I slept with more than 10 people, gained experience, and eventually found another girlfriend in person at age 25. That ended at age 26, but was off and on until age 27. It ended for good reason, because it was a tumultuous relationship with a lot of fun, but also arguments. She was super attractive which made it hard to let her go even though I knew it had to be done.
Following that relationship, I yet again worked on myself, dated and slept around, and eventually met my current girlfriend midway through age 28. It was one of those situations where you start out just hanging out and eventually see each other every week… then the question of “what are we happens”… I went along with it even though my eyes were still peeled.
Well now, I’m almost 30, a few months away and I’m scared. A part of me feels like I missed a part of my youth and I’ll never find that stunner I’ve always looked for. Being sheltered all my life and not meeting anyone via social circle messes with me emotionally. I’ve dated beautiful woman, but it’s not like I can change time and go back to 25 again and date around 20 year olds… right?
I also moved to a completely different state and started a new life 2 years ago. But every day I think about my last relationship and the life I used to live in that state. “The good old days” I like to say. I have a new life now and good situation, but a part of me feels lost.
That’s what I wrote back in March. I knew I had a good situation, a very stable relationship and job, but I almost felt like I was still unfulfilled. Mostly because I never really experienced the kind of girls that truly interest me I guess? I hate to sound superficial, but if you read below it will make further sense. It wasn’t all about looks. While she was nice and sweet, she was rather boring and didn’t banter with me.
So fast forward the story to today, my recent ex broke up with me a few weeks ago. We had been dating about a year and a half.
I met her about a year and a half after that toxic relationship to a really manipulative, yet attractive girl I talked about above. This new relationship was the complete opposite, almost to the point of being cringey. She was really loving but it was almost overwhelming. She also was not as atractive as my last gf in terms of looks. Not unattractive by any means, but I certainly didn’t feel super proud walking around with her or introducing her to people. For much of the early part of meeting this new girl, I did still constantly think of the toxic ex and compare, but I was ready for something new and thought I was so far removed from the last relationship - I went along with it.
Anyway, Eventually she asked if I would be her bf at about the 3 month point after meeting. At first I was apprehensive of the idea because I wasn’t sure about committing and if I wanted to keep “searching.” I got to the point that I was done with hunting as I had tried tirelessly to find someone for over a year. She was a great girl but I wasn’t sold on a full on relationship. Instead of being excited to be official like I was in past relationships, with her I was hoping for more a fwb situation like it was the first 3 months. But I decided to go along with it. I told her I still wanted to be able to approach or work on social skills with other girls even if just plutonicly. I didn’t do that and did commit. Fast forward another several months and the I love you statement came up. I wasn’t entirely sure about how I felt but I again went along with it, even though I didn’t actually feel it at at the time.
This gf was a very loving, loyal, committed gf, and did anything for me. Unfortunately I didn’t really find her incredibly magnetizing. She was cute, but not crazy attractive in my eye. Like I mentioned above, I didn’t feel that proud feeling when going out.
I found that taking pictures with her also made me unsure. The first couple weeks of hanging out we never took pics. And then I took a picture with her and looked at it and was repulsed. When she would send me pictures of her with with her family, I didn’t like what she sent. Maybe she’s just not photogenic and actually good in person, but whenever she would send me a photo or FaceTime me I’d get turned off.
Also, the fact that she was so wholesome, it didn’t allow for much banter. Conversations were mostly plutonic, where I’m more of the sarcastic type.
She always wanted to pull out the calendar and schedule plans months in advance every week, even after telling her I prefered being spontaneous. She did all of these crazy google calendar overlays and I felt like I was always being sucked into things I didn’t want to do. She became more clingy than I had realized when I first met her. She asked me about 3 months ago, if we could spend not just weekends together, but also Wednesday nights. (We lived just over an hour apart). I suggested it could be every other week (the opposite)…I didn’t like going to her place because of the road noise where she lived and I would really only see her when she would visit me. I know, all of this sounds really one sided and like I’m an asshole. But I was very loving to her in person and she knows that, hence why it lasted so long.
Unfortunately a lot of things she did turned me off. She was too readily available, always trying to lock up my calendar, talk about marriage and kids in the next 3-5 years and I felt trapped. I was unsure.
We had great sex but it wasn’t crazy passionate, neither was our kissing. When alone, and was feeling aroused, I generally didn’t think of my ex. I constantly found myself checking out other girls places I went (but never talked to them). I felt like wow I wish that was the kind of girl I was with.
It wasn’t all bad though. The sex was phenomenal in terms of the movements. She made $100k plus which is phenomenal for someone at 24, but also had over $100k in student loans. With her wanting to get married within 5 years, I considered those loans as a big issue. She was super loving and would have been a great mother.
In the end she left me. She said we weren’t compatible. I have been a wreck and now I’m wishing I had her. Maybe not for the right reasons though?
I’m trying to figure out why if I wanted to end things myself and that I felt trapped for so long, how come all of a sudden I want her back? Is it just the void of not having someone loyal who’s there for me? The loss of a potential good wife and mother? Who can make plans and bake me things? The fear of not meeting someone as smart? She’s already talking to other guys and I’m just a wreck and need some advice. I can’t go an hour without thinking of her. I think I need to rewire the way I am thinking. I can’t stop thinking that maybe I made a mistake and should have put in more effort, but I feel like if I truly loved/had that spark for her I would have tried more all along. I would have been excited to make plans with her instead of going a week at a time seeing her. Now all I want to do is see her. Should I have stayed in it and worked harder? Are my standards too high? I feel like my first ex and my recent one were so polar opposite. One had the looks and I thought of her when thinking of sex but was toxic and the other was sweet but not as attractive. It even got to the point that to feel emotion, I had to finish inside her. Which did help.
At the time of the breakup, I tried very hard to tell her how I was looking forward to making a fun summer filled with plans together. Just 2 weeks prior she was about it. Now nothing. It’s been total silence on the other end for weeks. I know she loved me more than any guy.
Do you think this was a good thing this happened? How do I rewrire my brain? She was my only friend. This was a relationship that I went into going through the motions, and even a couple weeks before we broke up I wrote that journal entry / question that I shared above. What is going on?
2024.05.18 23:24 FiveStanleyNickels In light of the fact that it is Saturday, or SATURN'S day...
It is appropriate to discuss the Star of Remphan.
Moloch, Chiun and Remphan are all names for Saturn, whose symbol is a hexagram, or a six pointed star formed by two triangles. This design is based off of the weird 'storm' on the surface of the planet.
Saturn was the primary god of the Chaldeans.
https://youtu.be/sFh9POzAdkE?si=J4_hyyjV5E5FZlJc
https://youtu.be/64WeAgyBsoc?si=dDhoXqmamrplOXI7
This stahexagram is very important to occultism, paganism and Saturn worship.
As evidenced in the videos, the symbol reaches further back in history than the earliest recorded example of it's association with craven offshoots of the Abrahamic faith.
"Yea, ye took up the tabernacle of Moloch, and the star of your god Remphan, figures which ye made to worship them: and I will carry you away beyond Babylon."
-Acts 7:43
"Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six."
-Revelation 13:18
"Now the weight of gold that came to Solomon in one year was six hundred threescore and six talents of gold"
-II Chronicles 9:13, I Kings 10:14
https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LGdn3o6_ATY/WN221z0-7xI/AAAAAAAAF1w/jzrp60geUcsHSzIP_VRaQhzZLJUAKMP0QCLcB/s1600/star%2Bof%2Bdavid%2Blie.JPG
https://www.debarelli.com/post/there-is-no-star-of-david-in-the-bible-it-is-the-star-of-their-god-remphan-baal-moloch-devil
The star has no Christian significance, and has zero Biblical relevance except to identify and chastise wayward believers of the Abrahamic faith.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/01/68/9e/01689e75874fb937b6917ff1231709a7.jpg
submitted by FiveStanleyNickels to conspiracy [link] [comments]
Moloch, Chiun and Remphan are all names for Saturn, whose symbol is a hexagram, or a six pointed star formed by two triangles. This design is based off of the weird 'storm' on the surface of the planet.
Saturn was the primary god of the Chaldeans.
https://youtu.be/sFh9POzAdkE?si=J4_hyyjV5E5FZlJc
https://youtu.be/64WeAgyBsoc?si=dDhoXqmamrplOXI7
This stahexagram is very important to occultism, paganism and Saturn worship.
As evidenced in the videos, the symbol reaches further back in history than the earliest recorded example of it's association with craven offshoots of the Abrahamic faith.
"Yea, ye took up the tabernacle of Moloch, and the star of your god Remphan, figures which ye made to worship them: and I will carry you away beyond Babylon."
-Acts 7:43
"Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six."
-Revelation 13:18
"Now the weight of gold that came to Solomon in one year was six hundred threescore and six talents of gold"
-II Chronicles 9:13, I Kings 10:14
https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LGdn3o6_ATY/WN221z0-7xI/AAAAAAAAF1w/jzrp60geUcsHSzIP_VRaQhzZLJUAKMP0QCLcB/s1600/star%2Bof%2Bdavid%2Blie.JPG
https://www.debarelli.com/post/there-is-no-star-of-david-in-the-bible-it-is-the-star-of-their-god-remphan-baal-moloch-devil
The star has no Christian significance, and has zero Biblical relevance except to identify and chastise wayward believers of the Abrahamic faith.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/01/68/9e/01689e75874fb937b6917ff1231709a7.jpg
2024.05.18 23:08 Looney-Lunaria Huge discrepancy between CAIT and WAIS-IV. Thinking autism and visual thinking are the reason but curious if anyone had a similar experience?
 | Last month I did psychological testing and was administered the WAIS-IV test. I was a bit surprised that my FSIQ was only 110 because I'm used to scoring in the ~90+ percentile on standardized tests and 110 puts me at 75 percentile. But I was diagnosed with ASD Level 1 and ADHD and chalked some of it up to working memory issues I assumed were stemming from ADHD. submitted by Looney-Lunaria to cognitiveTesting [link] [comments] I remember thinking how difficult I found the digit span, arithmetic and similarities/vocabulary tests since there was nothing in front of me to look at and it was all spoken and verbal communication based, which I struggle with. I much prefer tests where the questions are in front of me on a piece of paper where I can see them. It was also hard to keep numbers in my head while simultaneously focusing on interacting with the proctor (facial expressions, body language, etc.). I found this sub recently and posted my WAIS-IV results a few days ago, but then saw there were some free online tests like CAIT and got curious. HUGE difference since my FSIQ according to CAIT is 138. I know the way the questions are timed is different, but honestly, not having to verbalize my understanding of words out loud to a proctor and seeing the questions in front of me made a big difference too I think. And the online digit span test was also a complete game changer since I could stare at the numbers on my keyboard while they were being read aloud- making the sequencing one particularly easy for me since I could just mentally note which numbers were said on the top of the keyboard and then push them back in order from left to right. Just wanted to throw all this out there for discussion, but I'm curious how much autism affects scores on in-person, proctored tests like WAIS-IV. Having to manage interacting with the proctor was honestly pretty distracting and made everything feel way harder since social interaction is a bit of a challenge in and of itself. |
2024.05.18 23:08 tinkyhitman [WTS] Vintage 19.2k Gold & Diamond Cross + Antique OMC Diamond Ring
https://imgur.com/a/mMRGOfJ
Hello! Today I have two things up for sale including a new item. More info below:
The new item is a vintage Portuguese 19.2k white gold & diamond cross. For the uninitiated, 19.2k is the gold standard in Portugal and it has a 5% greater gold content than 18k (800/1000 vs 750/1000). The cross measures 3cm x 1.5cm and weighs 1.6 grams. Because of the hallmark, it was made in Porto, between 1938 and 1984.
There are 17 single cut, or huit-huit (8/8 in French) diamonds. Single cut is the type of cut that existed for smaller stones before the modern round brilliant cut. It’s called huit-huit because there are 16 facets, eight above the crown and 8 on the pavilion. The quality of the stones are very high, VS-VVS clarity and G-H color.
Price for the vintage cross is $975 shipped. Shipping is with UPS and will be fully insured.
https://imgur.com/a/iI2laCz
The second item is that antique French Old-Mine Cut Diamond & 18k ring I’ve posted before. Basic specs are .40ct diamond, Silver setting and 18k gold band; 2.6 grams net weight. Very old, likely Belle Epoque era (1880’s-1910). I took a better vid and additional pics.
Price is firm at $1000 shipped.
submitted by tinkyhitman to Pmsforsale [link] [comments]
Hello! Today I have two things up for sale including a new item. More info below:
The new item is a vintage Portuguese 19.2k white gold & diamond cross. For the uninitiated, 19.2k is the gold standard in Portugal and it has a 5% greater gold content than 18k (800/1000 vs 750/1000). The cross measures 3cm x 1.5cm and weighs 1.6 grams. Because of the hallmark, it was made in Porto, between 1938 and 1984.
There are 17 single cut, or huit-huit (8/8 in French) diamonds. Single cut is the type of cut that existed for smaller stones before the modern round brilliant cut. It’s called huit-huit because there are 16 facets, eight above the crown and 8 on the pavilion. The quality of the stones are very high, VS-VVS clarity and G-H color.
Price for the vintage cross is $975 shipped. Shipping is with UPS and will be fully insured.
https://imgur.com/a/iI2laCz
The second item is that antique French Old-Mine Cut Diamond & 18k ring I’ve posted before. Basic specs are .40ct diamond, Silver setting and 18k gold band; 2.6 grams net weight. Very old, likely Belle Epoque era (1880’s-1910). I took a better vid and additional pics.
Price is firm at $1000 shipped.
2024.05.18 23:05 throwawayvio94 My husband always forces me to dress seductive everywhere although I don't want it. I'm worried about him and our marriage.
Me (30F) and he (33M) is married for 3 years. We met in college so we have a relationship for 10 years. The first 2 years of our marriage was like a dream, I was pretty sure he is the one and he always said he thinks the same for me. Is he still gentle and loving? Yes. But he changed so much. Sometimes I'm just disgusted of him because he is becoming a cuck.
One year ago, he suddenly started to criticize the way I dress. Literally the opposite way you might think, he was saying I was not dressing "good enough". I generally wear blouses, jeans dresses etc. He said for a hot woman like me I dress like a granny. At the first he said that like a joke, but as he started to repeat it many times I was a bit pissed off so eventually I asked him what's his problem. He said he just wants to see me beautiful as his woman.
By time, I thought he will be fixed but he got even worse. I generally chose long t-shirts when I wear leggings, not wanting unnecessary stares. I was getting ready for gym and he made a comment on that too, told me I dress like a sister in the church and that's not how women dress for workout. Next day, he came with literally ten pairs of leggings and cropped tops. He told me to try them. I was happy for his surprise at first but when I tried them I was a bit shocked. Not being offensive against anyone who wears it, but it turns out he bought these "butt lift leggings" which completely fits the butt and shows it so detailed. I thanked him although it was a bit awkward, and told him there was no need for such a buy. He said he will like to see me wearing them for gym and take pictures. Strange right, well this is only the beginning.
He went even worse. By time, he started to come home buying supermini dresses with deep cleavages, even more butt lift leggings, lingeries, really short skirts etc. I'm definitely not conservative and I have no problems with the way people dress, but wearing these was making me uncomfortable. When I rejected, he was making a drama and one time he even cried for it. Once I rejected it all and threatened him to throw them away, he cried again and screamed at me. After that, he literally never talked a word with me for a straight week. I was loving him so much, so eventually I agreed to dress the way he wants.
Last summer, we planned a vacation. He bought micro bikinis for me although I didn't want. I told him I'm not gonna wear any of these, but he threatened me to cancel the vacation which I longed for so much. He made me wear these micro bikinis all the time during our vacation, and he didn't seem like having a sign of jealousy when I could even feel all other men's eyes on me although I tried to ignore.
The time I was really starting to concern about him to be a cuck, was when he took me to meet one of his coworkers at a cafe. I took a bath and when I went to our bedroom for getting dressed he immediately stepped in, he just picked a crop top -with deep cleavage of course- and a really really short tiered skirt, it was barely covering my butt. When I asked what's all this about, he told me to not wear any underwears. We started arguing again and he was about to make a scene again... So I said whatever and accepted. I was disturbed of all these other men's looks on me, especially his coworker. He didn't seem like he cares.
I was starting to get used to this life although I hated it. It only went worse by time. I was going everywhere in the way he wants. But I was loving him still, and I knew he is manipulating me. By time, he discarded all my previous clothes from our wardrobe and filled it with the seductive and revealing ones he wanted. As I tried ignore and move on, he made it far. One morning, I caught him recording my butt while I was sleeping. It was the breaking point and I argued with him about it again. It was the biggest one so far. I forced him to give me his phone and I was literally horrified by what I saw. It turns out he was doing this repeatedly, there were dozens of pictures he took secretly. Me sleeping, in the shower, tons of our vacation pics, my naked pictures etc. I left house for a week and stood at my parents, but not telling them about any of these.
He eventually apologized and said he is sorry. He said he just wants to be proud of having a hot wife, and he started crying AGAIN when I called him a cuck. And eventually, I came back to our house while he didn't even change a bit.
This situation is traumatizing me everyday. A few years ago, I was dreaming of a happy family with that guy, not he enjoying while I dress like a pornstar and other guys fuck me with their eyes. I completely lost my hope on him, and although I loved him so much I can feel it's finally waning everyday. I'm planning on a divorce already but didn't tell anyone anything.
What should I do? Is divorce the way? I always hoped he will get better with therapy, but at this point I completely lost my hope. Sorry for any grammatical issues, I'm Croatian and I moved to USA with my parents 15 years ago, still try my best while writing and speaking
submitted by throwawayvio94 to AITAH [link] [comments]
One year ago, he suddenly started to criticize the way I dress. Literally the opposite way you might think, he was saying I was not dressing "good enough". I generally wear blouses, jeans dresses etc. He said for a hot woman like me I dress like a granny. At the first he said that like a joke, but as he started to repeat it many times I was a bit pissed off so eventually I asked him what's his problem. He said he just wants to see me beautiful as his woman.
By time, I thought he will be fixed but he got even worse. I generally chose long t-shirts when I wear leggings, not wanting unnecessary stares. I was getting ready for gym and he made a comment on that too, told me I dress like a sister in the church and that's not how women dress for workout. Next day, he came with literally ten pairs of leggings and cropped tops. He told me to try them. I was happy for his surprise at first but when I tried them I was a bit shocked. Not being offensive against anyone who wears it, but it turns out he bought these "butt lift leggings" which completely fits the butt and shows it so detailed. I thanked him although it was a bit awkward, and told him there was no need for such a buy. He said he will like to see me wearing them for gym and take pictures. Strange right, well this is only the beginning.
He went even worse. By time, he started to come home buying supermini dresses with deep cleavages, even more butt lift leggings, lingeries, really short skirts etc. I'm definitely not conservative and I have no problems with the way people dress, but wearing these was making me uncomfortable. When I rejected, he was making a drama and one time he even cried for it. Once I rejected it all and threatened him to throw them away, he cried again and screamed at me. After that, he literally never talked a word with me for a straight week. I was loving him so much, so eventually I agreed to dress the way he wants.
Last summer, we planned a vacation. He bought micro bikinis for me although I didn't want. I told him I'm not gonna wear any of these, but he threatened me to cancel the vacation which I longed for so much. He made me wear these micro bikinis all the time during our vacation, and he didn't seem like having a sign of jealousy when I could even feel all other men's eyes on me although I tried to ignore.
The time I was really starting to concern about him to be a cuck, was when he took me to meet one of his coworkers at a cafe. I took a bath and when I went to our bedroom for getting dressed he immediately stepped in, he just picked a crop top -with deep cleavage of course- and a really really short tiered skirt, it was barely covering my butt. When I asked what's all this about, he told me to not wear any underwears. We started arguing again and he was about to make a scene again... So I said whatever and accepted. I was disturbed of all these other men's looks on me, especially his coworker. He didn't seem like he cares.
I was starting to get used to this life although I hated it. It only went worse by time. I was going everywhere in the way he wants. But I was loving him still, and I knew he is manipulating me. By time, he discarded all my previous clothes from our wardrobe and filled it with the seductive and revealing ones he wanted. As I tried ignore and move on, he made it far. One morning, I caught him recording my butt while I was sleeping. It was the breaking point and I argued with him about it again. It was the biggest one so far. I forced him to give me his phone and I was literally horrified by what I saw. It turns out he was doing this repeatedly, there were dozens of pictures he took secretly. Me sleeping, in the shower, tons of our vacation pics, my naked pictures etc. I left house for a week and stood at my parents, but not telling them about any of these.
He eventually apologized and said he is sorry. He said he just wants to be proud of having a hot wife, and he started crying AGAIN when I called him a cuck. And eventually, I came back to our house while he didn't even change a bit.
This situation is traumatizing me everyday. A few years ago, I was dreaming of a happy family with that guy, not he enjoying while I dress like a pornstar and other guys fuck me with their eyes. I completely lost my hope on him, and although I loved him so much I can feel it's finally waning everyday. I'm planning on a divorce already but didn't tell anyone anything.
What should I do? Is divorce the way? I always hoped he will get better with therapy, but at this point I completely lost my hope. Sorry for any grammatical issues, I'm Croatian and I moved to USA with my parents 15 years ago, still try my best while writing and speaking
2024.05.18 23:04 Theo-Dorable Ideologies (and their descriptions)
A list of all the ideologies (within the game files), including their descriptions. Enjoy.
National Conservatism National conservatism is a variant of conservatism that concentrates more on national interests and upholding cultural or ethnic identity than most other conservatives. In Europe, national conservatives are usually Eurosceptics.
Gaullism
Gaullism is a French political stance based on the thought and action of World War II French Resistance leader General Charles de Gaulle, who would become the founding President of the Fifth French Republic.
Corporatism I do not know where the description for this is. Considering corporatism doesn't exactly fit within conservatism I believe this is a mistake, but I'm including it here anyway.
Republican Party [sic]
The Republican Party is one of the two major political parties in the United States, the other being its historic rival, the Democratic Party. The party is named after republicanism, a major ideology of the American Revolution. Founded by anti-slavery activists, economic modernizers, ex-National Republicans, ex-Free Soilers and Whigs in 1854, the Republicans largely dominated politics nationally and in the majority of northern states between 1860 and 1932.
Religious Zionism Formed as a nationalist opposition and acts as the basis of the Israeli right, Revisionist Zionism envisions territorial integrity over the historical Land of Israel and supports Jewish nationalism. Revisionist Zionists believed that Jews have sovereignty over both banks of the Jordan river and its followers question the legitimacy of the Kingdom of Jordan. Currently, Revisionist Zionism is regarded as a fringe ideology but its proponents have recently began a push to make the ideology more moderate and hence more electable.
Black Conservatism Black Conservatism is a type of conservative ideology popular among Africans in both hemispheres. Individuals which would promote black conservatism would likely be advocates of free market capitalism, promotion of traditional beliefs (generally in regards to Catholic and Protestant Christianity), and Patriotism or Jingoism. Black Conservatism generally is opposed to Pan-Africanism, Socialism, and Anti-Imperialism.
Conservative Liberalism Conservative liberalism is a variant of liberalism, combining liberal values and policies with conservative stances, or simply representing the right-wing of the liberal movement. It is a more positive and less radical variant of classical liberalism.
Vatican [sic]
The politics of Vatican City take place in a framework of an theocratic absolute elective monarchy, in which the Pope, religiously speaking, the leader of the Roman Catholic Church and Bishop of Rome, exercises ex officio supreme legislative, executive, and judicial power over the Vatican City, a rare case of non-hereditary monarchy.
Democratic Socialism Democratic socialism is a political philosophy that advocates political democracy alongside social ownership of the means of production, with an emphasis on self-management and democratic management of economic institutions within a market or some form of decentralized planned socialist economy.
Market Socialism Market socialism is a type of economic system involving the public, cooperative, or social ownership of the means of production in the framework of a market economy.
Royal Socialism No information in the game files. Probably a scrapped ideology, but still here for showcase purposes.
Neocommunism Ditto to above.
African Socialism African socialism is a belief in sharing economic resources in a traditional African way, as distinct from classical socialism. Common principles of African socialism are social development guided by a large public sector, incorporating the African identity and what it means to be African, and the avoidance of the development of social classes within society.
Ujamaa The Swahili word Ujamaa means 'extended family', 'brotherhood' or 'socialism'; as a political concept it asserts that a person becomes a person through the people or community. Ujamaa was a term made popular by the political philosophy applied under Julius Nyerere's social and economic development policies in Tanzania after it gained independence from Britain in 1961.
Labor Zionism (Mapai) Labor Zionism is the left-wing of the Zionist movement. For many years, it was the most significant tendency among Zionists and Zionist organizations. It saw itself as the Zionist sector of the historic Jewish labor movements of Eastern and Central Europe, eventually developing local units in most countries with sizable Jewish populations. Labor Zionists believe that a Jewish state could only be created through the efforts of the Jewish working class settling in the Land of Israel and constructing a state through the creation of a progressive Jewish society with rural kibbutzim and moshavim and an urban Jewish proletariat.
Kemalism Kemalism is the founding ideology of the Republic of Turkey. Kemalism, as it was implemented by Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, was defined by sweeping political, social, cultural and religious reforms designed to separate the new Turkish state from its Ottoman predecessor and embrace a Westernized way of living, including the establishment of democracy, secularism, state support of the sciences and free education.
Oriental Personalism Oriental Personalism is the official ideology of Ngo Dinh Diem's Can-Lao Party in South Vietnam. Owing as much to the influence of his brother, Ngo Dinh Nhu as Diem himself, Oriental Personalism has diverse ideological influences, including Emannuel Mournier's theory of Personalism, Marxism, and the folk traditions and religions of Vietnam. The Can-Lao manifest calls for the gradual transformation of Vietnamese society through two phase. In the first phase, the Personalist Revolution, the Social and Working Classes will tear their divisions and join as one. Then comes the Social Revolution, where all forms of capitalism and colonial influence will be swept out on a triumphant march to a utopian, socialist, and proudly Vietnamese society.
Democratic Party [sic]
The Democratic Party is one of the two major contemporary political parties in the United States, along with the Republican Party. Tracing its heritage back to Thomas Jefferson and James Madison's Democratic-Republican Party, the modern-day Democratic Party was founded around 1828 by supporters of Andrew Jackson, making it the world's oldest active political party.
Labor Zionism Functionally the exact same as Labor Zionism (Mapai), with the same description. I have no clue why it's divided as such.
Green politics Green politics is a political ideology that aims to create an ecologically sustainable society rooted in environmentalism, nonviolence, social justice and grassroots democracy.
Libertarianism Libertarianism is a collection of political philosophies and movements that uphold liberty as a core principle. Libertarians seek to maximize political freedom and autonomy, emphasizing freedom of choice, voluntary association, and individual judgment. Libertarians share a skepticism of authority and state power, but they diverge on the scope of their opposition to existing political and economic systems.
Zionism (General Zionism) Many people and parties chose not to follow any of the distinct Zionist schools of thought and chose to stick to the core ideology of Zionism, settling in Israel and the establishment of the Jewish State. Many of the parties that stick to the 'core' of Zionism are centrist parties that don't associate themselves with either the left nor the right and tend to be economically liberal.
Liberal Communism I can find no reference. I presume this refers to the like of Gorbachev.
Stalinism Stalinism is the means of governing and related policies implemented from around 1927 to 1953 by Joseph Stalin. Stalinist policies and ideas as developed in the Soviet Union included rapid industrialization, the theory of socialism in one country, a totalitarian state, collectivization of agriculture, a cult of personality and subordination of the interests of foreign communist parties to those of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, deemed by Stalinism to be the leading vanguard party of communist revolution at the time.
Juche Juche is the official state ideology of North Korea, described by the government as Kim Il-sung's original, brilliant and revolutionary contribution to national and international thought. It postulates that the Korean masses are to act as the masters of the revolution and construction and that by becoming self-reliant and strong a nation can achieve true socialism.
Ho Chi Minh Thought Ho Chi Minh Thought is the official ideology of the Communist Party of Vietnam under the leadership of Chairman Ho Chi Minh. Though firmly Marxist-Leninist, Ho believes in a more nationalistic reintepretation of Marxism for the unique conditions of the Vietnamese revolution, even taking some influence from Sun Yat-Sen's "Three Principles of the People" and the American revolutionaries. Ho Chi Minh Thought is as proudly Vietnamese as it is Communist, and calls for a "national democratic revolution" -- a truly Vietnamese path to socialism where worker, peasant, soldier, and merchant will unite against inequality and imperialism in all its forms.
Revolutionary Islamic Socialism Your guess is as good as mine.
Trotskyism Trotskyism is the theory of Marxism as advocated by Russian Leon Trotsky. Trotsky identified as an orthodox Marxist and Bolshevik-Leninist. He supported founding a vanguard party of the proletariat, proletarian internationalism and a dictatorship of the proletariat based on working class self-emancipation and mass democracy.
Sartre Thought No description given.
Anarcho-Communism Anarcho-communism is a theory of anarchism which advocates the abolition of the state, capitalism, wage labor and private property in favor of common ownership of the means of production, direct democracy and a horizontal network of workers' councils with production and consumption based on the guiding principle: From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.
Posadism No description. Another relic.
Titoism Titoism is described as the post-World War II policies and practices associated with Josip Broz Tito during the Cold War, characterized by an opposition to the Soviet Union. It usually represents Tito's Yugoslav doctrine in Cold War international politics. It emerged with the Yugoslav Partisans' liberation of Yugoslavia independently of the Red Army, resulting in Yugoslavia being the only Eastern European country to remain socialist, but independent after World War II as well as resisting Soviet Union pressure to become a member of the Warsaw Pact.
Left-wing Military Dictatorship a Left-wing Military Dictatorship is a government which may espouse specific socialistic beliefs to gain second world support, but is however a military-controlled oppressive autocratic state. [sic]
Person Dignity Theory (Nhuism) Person Dignity Theory, also known as Spiritualistic Marxism, describes the more radical worldview of Ngo Dinh Nhu. Influenced by his involvment with French syndicalism in the 1930s and the left-wing nationalism of the Viet Minh, Nhu's views are significantly to the left of his older brother. Nhu's interpretation of \"True Marxism\" calls for a total centralization of state power in the Can Lao Party and the complete destruction of traditional society in favor of the strict regimentation of the peasants in collectivist \"Strategic Hamlets\" and the city dwellers through \"Urban Revolutionary Syndicates\". Some believe Nhu's ambitions may lie beyond Vietnam, given his calls for a worldwide crusade against \"Materialistic Capitalism\". [sic]
Mao Zedong thought is the product of the combination of the basic principles of Marxism Leninism and the specific reality of the Chinese revolution. It is the crystallization of the collective wisdom of the Chinese Communists. It is a political, military and development theory advocated by Mao Zedong and widely practiced in the Chinese revolution in the 20th century. It is generally considered to be the development of Marxism Leninism in China.
Anti-Revisionism A Marxist-Leninist position emerging after the XXth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. Anti-revisionist movements oppose the reforms of the Khrushchev period and uphold Stalinist and Maoist developments in Marxism.
Marxism-Leninism-Maoism The synthesis of Marxism–Leninism–Maoism did not occur during the life of Mao Zedong. From the 1960s, groups that called themselves Maoist or which upheld Maoism were not unified around a common understanding of Maoism and had instead their own particular interpretations of the political, philosophical, economical and military works of Mao; these disorganized ideological trends comprised, and still comprise, Mao Zedong Thought.
Scientific Socialism Scientific Socialism was founded by Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx, but was widely used by Deng Xiaoping of the PRC to reform Maoism. It is often Maoism, but with a few reforms that add more emphasis on science, industrialization, and overall a new focus on the economy.
Hoxhaism Hoxhaism is a variant of anti-revisionist Marxism-Leninism that developed in the late 1970s due to a split in the Maoist movement, appearing after the ideological dispute between the Communist Party of China and the Party of Labor of Albania. The ideology is named after Enver Hoxha, a notable Albanian communist leader.
Guevarism Guevarism is a theory of communist revolution and a military strategy of guerrilla warfare associated with communist revolutionary Ernesto \"Che\" Guevara. The ideology promotes exporting revolution to any country whose leader is supported by the empire (United States) and has fallen out of favor with its citizens. The ideology has three main points, namely that the people can win with proper organization against a nation's army; that the conditions that make a revolution possible can be put in place by the popular forces; and that the popular forces always have an advantage in a non urban setting. [sic]
Falangism An authoritarian ideology with traits of fascism and conservatism, Falangist values national and Catholic identity.
Rexism Strongly opposed to both liberal and communist ideals, Rexism is a staunchly conservative nationalist movement who advocate a corporatist economic policy. Employing increasingly populist and authoritarian rhetoric, their ideals are shifting closer to other fascist movements.
Hindu Nationalism Hindu nationalism has been collectively referred to as the expression of social and political thought, based on the native spiritual and cultural traditions of the Indian subcontinent.
Salazarism Salazarism is a nationalist authoritarian ideology focusing on 'God, Fatherland and Family' and emphasizing the social role of Catholicism - setting it apart from mainstream variations of Fascism.
Neo-Nazism Neo-Nazism consists of post-World War II militant, social or political movements seeking to revive the ideology of Nazism. It borrows elements from Nazi doctrine, including ultranationalism, racism up to xenophobia, ableism, homophobia, anti-Romanyism, antisemitism, anti-communism and initiating the Fourth Reich. Holocaust denial is a common feature, as is the incorporation of Nazi symbols and admiration of Adolf Hitler.
National Bolshevism National Bolshevism is a political movement that combines elements of nationalism and Bolshevism.
Baathism Baathism is an Arab nationalist ideology that promotes the development and creation of a unified Arab state through the leadership of a vanguard party over a progressive revolutionary government.
Ku Klux Klan The Ku Klux Klan is an American white supremacist hate group. The Klan has existed in three distinct eras at different points in time during the history of the United States. Each has advocated extremist reactionary positions such as white supremacy, white nationalism, anti-immigration and-especially in later iterations-Nordicism and anti-Catholicism.
Kahanism No information.
Authenticité Ditto.
Trujillism Ditto.
Peronism Ditto.
National Democracy no desc.
Pan-Africanism Pan-Africanism is a worldwide movement that aims to encourage and strengthen bonds of solidarity between all people of African descent. Based on a common fate going back to the Atlantic slave trade, the movement extends beyond continental Africans, with a substantial support base among the African diaspora in the Caribbean, Latin America and the United States.
Leftwing Nationalism Leftwing Nationalism is a form of nationalism which promotes the raising of societal standards for one's own national people generally through the introduction of social equality and government nationalization. Leftwing Nationalism is often anti-imperialist and can commonly represent national liberation fronts. Generally, Leftwing Nationalism will be a response to repeated exploitation of a nation by outside factors.
Bourguibism No desc.
Nasserism Nasserism is a revolutionary ideology, inspired by the second Egyptian President, Gamal Abdel Nasser; espousing the unification of what is referred to as the Arab world. It asserts that the Arab people constitute a single nation or federation, based upon a shared language and culture, transcending Islam and Christianity. Advocates of Nasserism have often been described representing political and economic positions which are secular, socialist, nationalistic, socially progressive, and anti-imperialist.
Revisionist Zionism See above.
Islamic Monarchy Islamic monarchies are a type of Islamic state which are monarchies. They are historically known by various names, such as Mamlakah, Caliphate, Sultanate, or Emirate.
Negusa Nagast
Negusa Nagast, or king of kings, is a type of selective hereditary imperial monarchy that became the prevalent leadership of Ethiopia since Negus Zemene Mesafint ended the Age of Princes period where Ethiopia was fractured between small principalities, kindoms, and sultanates.
Despotism Despotism is a form of government in which a single person rules with absolute power.
Military Dictatorship A military dictatorship is a form of government wherein a military force exerts complete or substantial control over political authority.
Oligarchic Oligarchy is a form of government in which a group of people rule with absolute power.
Colonialism Colonialism is the policy of a foreign polity seeking to extend or retain its authority over other people or territories, generally with the aim of opening trade opportunities. The colonizing country seeks to benefit whilst the colonized country or land mass, as many of the colonized countries were not countries at all, modernize in terms defined by the colonizers, especially in economics, religion, and health.
Independent An independent politician is an individual politician not affiliated with any political party.
Haredi no desc.
Vennamoism Vennamolaisuus, or Vennamoism in english is name given to the ideology and political movement of Veikko Vennamo, the leader of Finnish Rural Party. It is categorized by populism, reliance on slogans and support for agriculture.
Democratic Islamism Islamic democracy is a political ideology that seeks to apply Islamic principles to public policy within a democratic framework. Islamic political theory specifies three basic features of an Islamic democracy: leaders must be elected by the people, subject to sharia and committed to practicing \"shura\", a special form of consultation practiced by Prophet Muhammad
Ibadi Imamate no desc.
Shia Monarchy no desc.
Houthiism
Houthiism is an armed movement stemming from a sect of Shia Islam, Zaidiism. Houthiism is almost nonexistent outside of Yemen. The Houthi movement strongly opposes Saudi Arabia, the US, and Israel and seeks to combat the 'underdevelopment and marginalization' of Yemen.
"Eereerhmm... where are the ideology tags?" NOWHERE! I will not add them.
submitted by Theo-Dorable to CWIC [link] [comments]
Conservatism
Conservatism is a political and social philosophy promoting traditional social institutions in the context of culture and civilization. The central tenets of conservatism include tradition, human imperfection, organic society, hierarchy and authority, and property rights. Conservatives seek to preserve a range of institutions such as monarchy, religion, parliamentary government, and property rights, with the aim of emphasizing social stability and continuity.National Conservatism National conservatism is a variant of conservatism that concentrates more on national interests and upholding cultural or ethnic identity than most other conservatives. In Europe, national conservatives are usually Eurosceptics.
Gaullism
Gaullism is a French political stance based on the thought and action of World War II French Resistance leader General Charles de Gaulle, who would become the founding President of the Fifth French Republic.
Corporatism I do not know where the description for this is. Considering corporatism doesn't exactly fit within conservatism I believe this is a mistake, but I'm including it here anyway.
Republican Party [sic]
The Republican Party is one of the two major political parties in the United States, the other being its historic rival, the Democratic Party. The party is named after republicanism, a major ideology of the American Revolution. Founded by anti-slavery activists, economic modernizers, ex-National Republicans, ex-Free Soilers and Whigs in 1854, the Republicans largely dominated politics nationally and in the majority of northern states between 1860 and 1932.
Religious Zionism Formed as a nationalist opposition and acts as the basis of the Israeli right, Revisionist Zionism envisions territorial integrity over the historical Land of Israel and supports Jewish nationalism. Revisionist Zionists believed that Jews have sovereignty over both banks of the Jordan river and its followers question the legitimacy of the Kingdom of Jordan. Currently, Revisionist Zionism is regarded as a fringe ideology but its proponents have recently began a push to make the ideology more moderate and hence more electable.
Black Conservatism Black Conservatism is a type of conservative ideology popular among Africans in both hemispheres. Individuals which would promote black conservatism would likely be advocates of free market capitalism, promotion of traditional beliefs (generally in regards to Catholic and Protestant Christianity), and Patriotism or Jingoism. Black Conservatism generally is opposed to Pan-Africanism, Socialism, and Anti-Imperialism.
Liberal Conservatism
Liberal conservatism combines conservative policies with liberal stances, especially on economic, social and ethical issues. It incorporates the classical liberal view of minimal government intervention in the economy, according to which individuals should be free to participate in the market and generate wealth without government interference. However, individuals cannot be thoroughly depended on to act responsibly in other spheres of life, therefore liberal conservatives believe that a strong state is necessary to ensure law and order and social institutions are needed to nurture a sense of duty and responsibility to the nation. They also support civil liberties, along with some social conservative positions.Conservative Liberalism Conservative liberalism is a variant of liberalism, combining liberal values and policies with conservative stances, or simply representing the right-wing of the liberal movement. It is a more positive and less radical variant of classical liberalism.
Christian Democracy
Christian democracy is a form of conservatism and a political ideology which emerged in 19th century Europe under the influence of Catholic social teaching, as well as Neo Calvinism. It was originally conceived as a combination of traditional Catholic beliefs and modern democratic ideas, and it grew to incorporate the social teaching of other Christian denominations, such as the Lutheran Church and the Reformed Church.Vatican [sic]
The politics of Vatican City take place in a framework of an theocratic absolute elective monarchy, in which the Pope, religiously speaking, the leader of the Roman Catholic Church and Bishop of Rome, exercises ex officio supreme legislative, executive, and judicial power over the Vatican City, a rare case of non-hereditary monarchy.
Socialism
Socialism is a range of economic and social systems characterized by social ownership and workers' self-management of the means of production as well as the political theories and movements associated with them. Social ownership may refer to forms of public, collective or cooperative ownership, or to citizen ownership of equity. There are many varieties of socialism and there is no single definition encapsulating all of them, though social ownership is the common element shared by its various forms. Socialist economic systems can be divided into non-market and market forms. Non-market socialism involves the substitution of factor markets and money, with engineering and technical criteria, based on calculation performed in-kind, thereby producing an economic mechanism that functions according to different economic laws from those of capitalism. Non-market socialism aims to circumvent the inefficiencies and crises traditionally associated with capital accumulation and the profit system. By contrast, market socialism retains the use of monetary prices, factor markets and in some cases the profit motive, with respect to the operation of socially owned enterprises and the allocation of capital goods between them. Profits generated by these firms would be controlled directly by the workforce of each firm, or accrue to society at large in the form of a social dividend. The socialist calculation debate discusses the feasibility and methods of resource allocation for a socialist system.Democratic Socialism Democratic socialism is a political philosophy that advocates political democracy alongside social ownership of the means of production, with an emphasis on self-management and democratic management of economic institutions within a market or some form of decentralized planned socialist economy.
Market Socialism Market socialism is a type of economic system involving the public, cooperative, or social ownership of the means of production in the framework of a market economy.
Royal Socialism No information in the game files. Probably a scrapped ideology, but still here for showcase purposes.
Neocommunism Ditto to above.
African Socialism African socialism is a belief in sharing economic resources in a traditional African way, as distinct from classical socialism. Common principles of African socialism are social development guided by a large public sector, incorporating the African identity and what it means to be African, and the avoidance of the development of social classes within society.
Ujamaa The Swahili word Ujamaa means 'extended family', 'brotherhood' or 'socialism'; as a political concept it asserts that a person becomes a person through the people or community. Ujamaa was a term made popular by the political philosophy applied under Julius Nyerere's social and economic development policies in Tanzania after it gained independence from Britain in 1961.
Labor Zionism (Mapai) Labor Zionism is the left-wing of the Zionist movement. For many years, it was the most significant tendency among Zionists and Zionist organizations. It saw itself as the Zionist sector of the historic Jewish labor movements of Eastern and Central Europe, eventually developing local units in most countries with sizable Jewish populations. Labor Zionists believe that a Jewish state could only be created through the efforts of the Jewish working class settling in the Land of Israel and constructing a state through the creation of a progressive Jewish society with rural kibbutzim and moshavim and an urban Jewish proletariat.
Kemalism Kemalism is the founding ideology of the Republic of Turkey. Kemalism, as it was implemented by Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, was defined by sweeping political, social, cultural and religious reforms designed to separate the new Turkish state from its Ottoman predecessor and embrace a Westernized way of living, including the establishment of democracy, secularism, state support of the sciences and free education.
Oriental Personalism Oriental Personalism is the official ideology of Ngo Dinh Diem's Can-Lao Party in South Vietnam. Owing as much to the influence of his brother, Ngo Dinh Nhu as Diem himself, Oriental Personalism has diverse ideological influences, including Emannuel Mournier's theory of Personalism, Marxism, and the folk traditions and religions of Vietnam. The Can-Lao manifest calls for the gradual transformation of Vietnamese society through two phase. In the first phase, the Personalist Revolution, the Social and Working Classes will tear their divisions and join as one. Then comes the Social Revolution, where all forms of capitalism and colonial influence will be swept out on a triumphant march to a utopian, socialist, and proudly Vietnamese society.
Social Democracy
Social Democracy is a political, social and economic ideology that supports economic and social interventions to promote social justice within the framework of a capitalist economy, as well as a policy regime involving a commitment to representative democracy, measures for income redistribution, and regulation of the economy in the general interest and welfare state provisions.Democratic Party [sic]
The Democratic Party is one of the two major contemporary political parties in the United States, along with the Republican Party. Tracing its heritage back to Thomas Jefferson and James Madison's Democratic-Republican Party, the modern-day Democratic Party was founded around 1828 by supporters of Andrew Jackson, making it the world's oldest active political party.
Labor Zionism Functionally the exact same as Labor Zionism (Mapai), with the same description. I have no clue why it's divided as such.
Social Liberalism
Social liberalism is a political ideology that believes individual liberty requires a level of social justice. Like classical liberalism, social liberalism endorses a market economy and the expansion of civil and political rights and liberties, but differs in that it believes the legitimate role of the government includes addressing economic and social issues such as poverty, health care, and education.Progressivism
Progressivism is the support for or advocacy of improvement of society by reform. As a philosophy, it is based on the idea of progress, which asserts that advancements in science, technology, economic development and social organization are vital to the improvement of the human condition.Green politics Green politics is a political ideology that aims to create an ecologically sustainable society rooted in environmentalism, nonviolence, social justice and grassroots democracy.
Centrism
Centrism is a political outlook or specific position that involves acceptance or support of a balance of a degree of social equality and a degree of social hierarchy, while opposing political changes which would result in a significant shift of society either strongly to the left or the right.Classical Liberalism
Democracy (yes, that is the entire description)Libertarianism Libertarianism is a collection of political philosophies and movements that uphold liberty as a core principle. Libertarians seek to maximize political freedom and autonomy, emphasizing freedom of choice, voluntary association, and individual judgment. Libertarians share a skepticism of authority and state power, but they diverge on the scope of their opposition to existing political and economic systems.
Zionism (General Zionism) Many people and parties chose not to follow any of the distinct Zionist schools of thought and chose to stick to the core ideology of Zionism, settling in Israel and the establishment of the Jewish State. Many of the parties that stick to the 'core' of Zionism are centrist parties that don't associate themselves with either the left nor the right and tend to be economically liberal.
Marxism-Leninism
Marxism-Leninism is the ideology combining Marxist socioeconomic theory and Leninist political praxis, which is the official ideology of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and of the Communist International. The purpose of Marxism-Leninism is the revolutionary development of a capitalist state into a socialist state, effected by the leadership of a vanguard party of professional revolutionaries from the working class.Liberal Communism I can find no reference. I presume this refers to the like of Gorbachev.
Stalinism Stalinism is the means of governing and related policies implemented from around 1927 to 1953 by Joseph Stalin. Stalinist policies and ideas as developed in the Soviet Union included rapid industrialization, the theory of socialism in one country, a totalitarian state, collectivization of agriculture, a cult of personality and subordination of the interests of foreign communist parties to those of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, deemed by Stalinism to be the leading vanguard party of communist revolution at the time.
Juche Juche is the official state ideology of North Korea, described by the government as Kim Il-sung's original, brilliant and revolutionary contribution to national and international thought. It postulates that the Korean masses are to act as the masters of the revolution and construction and that by becoming self-reliant and strong a nation can achieve true socialism.
Ho Chi Minh Thought Ho Chi Minh Thought is the official ideology of the Communist Party of Vietnam under the leadership of Chairman Ho Chi Minh. Though firmly Marxist-Leninist, Ho believes in a more nationalistic reintepretation of Marxism for the unique conditions of the Vietnamese revolution, even taking some influence from Sun Yat-Sen's "Three Principles of the People" and the American revolutionaries. Ho Chi Minh Thought is as proudly Vietnamese as it is Communist, and calls for a "national democratic revolution" -- a truly Vietnamese path to socialism where worker, peasant, soldier, and merchant will unite against inequality and imperialism in all its forms.
Revolutionary Socialism
Revolutionary socialism is the socialist doctrine that social revolution is necessary in order to bring about structural changes to society. More specifically, it is the view that revolution is a necessary precondition for a transition from capitalism to socialism.Revolutionary Islamic Socialism Your guess is as good as mine.
Trotskyism Trotskyism is the theory of Marxism as advocated by Russian Leon Trotsky. Trotsky identified as an orthodox Marxist and Bolshevik-Leninist. He supported founding a vanguard party of the proletariat, proletarian internationalism and a dictatorship of the proletariat based on working class self-emancipation and mass democracy.
Sartre Thought No description given.
Anarcho-Communism Anarcho-communism is a theory of anarchism which advocates the abolition of the state, capitalism, wage labor and private property in favor of common ownership of the means of production, direct democracy and a horizontal network of workers' councils with production and consumption based on the guiding principle: From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.
Posadism No description. Another relic.
Titoism Titoism is described as the post-World War II policies and practices associated with Josip Broz Tito during the Cold War, characterized by an opposition to the Soviet Union. It usually represents Tito's Yugoslav doctrine in Cold War international politics. It emerged with the Yugoslav Partisans' liberation of Yugoslavia independently of the Red Army, resulting in Yugoslavia being the only Eastern European country to remain socialist, but independent after World War II as well as resisting Soviet Union pressure to become a member of the Warsaw Pact.
Left-wing Military Dictatorship a Left-wing Military Dictatorship is a government which may espouse specific socialistic beliefs to gain second world support, but is however a military-controlled oppressive autocratic state. [sic]
Person Dignity Theory (Nhuism) Person Dignity Theory, also known as Spiritualistic Marxism, describes the more radical worldview of Ngo Dinh Nhu. Influenced by his involvment with French syndicalism in the 1930s and the left-wing nationalism of the Viet Minh, Nhu's views are significantly to the left of his older brother. Nhu's interpretation of \"True Marxism\" calls for a total centralization of state power in the Can Lao Party and the complete destruction of traditional society in favor of the strict regimentation of the peasants in collectivist \"Strategic Hamlets\" and the city dwellers through \"Urban Revolutionary Syndicates\". Some believe Nhu's ambitions may lie beyond Vietnam, given his calls for a worldwide crusade against \"Materialistic Capitalism\". [sic]
Maoism (Mao Zedong Thought)
Actually clumps together "anti-revisionist" ideologies, but for our purposes we'll start with Mao Zedong Thought.Mao Zedong thought is the product of the combination of the basic principles of Marxism Leninism and the specific reality of the Chinese revolution. It is the crystallization of the collective wisdom of the Chinese Communists. It is a political, military and development theory advocated by Mao Zedong and widely practiced in the Chinese revolution in the 20th century. It is generally considered to be the development of Marxism Leninism in China.
Anti-Revisionism A Marxist-Leninist position emerging after the XXth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. Anti-revisionist movements oppose the reforms of the Khrushchev period and uphold Stalinist and Maoist developments in Marxism.
Marxism-Leninism-Maoism The synthesis of Marxism–Leninism–Maoism did not occur during the life of Mao Zedong. From the 1960s, groups that called themselves Maoist or which upheld Maoism were not unified around a common understanding of Maoism and had instead their own particular interpretations of the political, philosophical, economical and military works of Mao; these disorganized ideological trends comprised, and still comprise, Mao Zedong Thought.
Scientific Socialism Scientific Socialism was founded by Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx, but was widely used by Deng Xiaoping of the PRC to reform Maoism. It is often Maoism, but with a few reforms that add more emphasis on science, industrialization, and overall a new focus on the economy.
Hoxhaism Hoxhaism is a variant of anti-revisionist Marxism-Leninism that developed in the late 1970s due to a split in the Maoist movement, appearing after the ideological dispute between the Communist Party of China and the Party of Labor of Albania. The ideology is named after Enver Hoxha, a notable Albanian communist leader.
Guevarism Guevarism is a theory of communist revolution and a military strategy of guerrilla warfare associated with communist revolutionary Ernesto \"Che\" Guevara. The ideology promotes exporting revolution to any country whose leader is supported by the empire (United States) and has fallen out of favor with its citizens. The ideology has three main points, namely that the people can win with proper organization against a nation's army; that the conditions that make a revolution possible can be put in place by the popular forces; and that the popular forces always have an advantage in a non urban setting. [sic]
Third Positionism
Encompassing a variety of ultra-nationalist movements, third positionism typically venerates devotion to the state and uniting the people under a strong leader. Third Positionism is presented as its own unique ideology as a third option to capitalism or communism.Falangism An authoritarian ideology with traits of fascism and conservatism, Falangist values national and Catholic identity.
Rexism Strongly opposed to both liberal and communist ideals, Rexism is a staunchly conservative nationalist movement who advocate a corporatist economic policy. Employing increasingly populist and authoritarian rhetoric, their ideals are shifting closer to other fascist movements.
Hindu Nationalism Hindu nationalism has been collectively referred to as the expression of social and political thought, based on the native spiritual and cultural traditions of the Indian subcontinent.
Salazarism Salazarism is a nationalist authoritarian ideology focusing on 'God, Fatherland and Family' and emphasizing the social role of Catholicism - setting it apart from mainstream variations of Fascism.
Neo-Nazism Neo-Nazism consists of post-World War II militant, social or political movements seeking to revive the ideology of Nazism. It borrows elements from Nazi doctrine, including ultranationalism, racism up to xenophobia, ableism, homophobia, anti-Romanyism, antisemitism, anti-communism and initiating the Fourth Reich. Holocaust denial is a common feature, as is the incorporation of Nazi symbols and admiration of Adolf Hitler.
National Bolshevism National Bolshevism is a political movement that combines elements of nationalism and Bolshevism.
Baathism Baathism is an Arab nationalist ideology that promotes the development and creation of a unified Arab state through the leadership of a vanguard party over a progressive revolutionary government.
Ku Klux Klan The Ku Klux Klan is an American white supremacist hate group. The Klan has existed in three distinct eras at different points in time during the history of the United States. Each has advocated extremist reactionary positions such as white supremacy, white nationalism, anti-immigration and-especially in later iterations-Nordicism and anti-Catholicism.
Kahanism No information.
Authenticité Ditto.
Trujillism Ditto.
Peronism Ditto.
Nationalism
Encompassing a variety of ultra nationalist movements, Nationalism typically venerates devotion to the state and uniting the people under a strong leader.National Democracy no desc.
Pan-Africanism Pan-Africanism is a worldwide movement that aims to encourage and strengthen bonds of solidarity between all people of African descent. Based on a common fate going back to the Atlantic slave trade, the movement extends beyond continental Africans, with a substantial support base among the African diaspora in the Caribbean, Latin America and the United States.
Leftwing Nationalism Leftwing Nationalism is a form of nationalism which promotes the raising of societal standards for one's own national people generally through the introduction of social equality and government nationalization. Leftwing Nationalism is often anti-imperialist and can commonly represent national liberation fronts. Generally, Leftwing Nationalism will be a response to repeated exploitation of a nation by outside factors.
Bourguibism No desc.
Nasserism Nasserism is a revolutionary ideology, inspired by the second Egyptian President, Gamal Abdel Nasser; espousing the unification of what is referred to as the Arab world. It asserts that the Arab people constitute a single nation or federation, based upon a shared language and culture, transcending Islam and Christianity. Advocates of Nasserism have often been described representing political and economic positions which are secular, socialist, nationalistic, socially progressive, and anti-imperialist.
Revisionist Zionism See above.
Monarchism
A monarchy is a form of government in which a group, generally a family representing a dynasty, embodies the country's national identity and its head, the monarch, exercises the role of sovereignty.Islamic Monarchy Islamic monarchies are a type of Islamic state which are monarchies. They are historically known by various names, such as Mamlakah, Caliphate, Sultanate, or Emirate.
Negusa Nagast
Negusa Nagast, or king of kings, is a type of selective hereditary imperial monarchy that became the prevalent leadership of Ethiopia since Negus Zemene Mesafint ended the Age of Princes period where Ethiopia was fractured between small principalities, kindoms, and sultanates.
Reactionary (also Neutrality)
In political science, a reactionary is a person who holds political views that favor a return to the status quo ante, the previous political state of society, which he or she believes possessed characteristics that are negatively absent from the contemporary status quo of a society.Despotism Despotism is a form of government in which a single person rules with absolute power.
Military Dictatorship A military dictatorship is a form of government wherein a military force exerts complete or substantial control over political authority.
Oligarchic Oligarchy is a form of government in which a group of people rule with absolute power.
Colonialism Colonialism is the policy of a foreign polity seeking to extend or retain its authority over other people or territories, generally with the aim of opening trade opportunities. The colonizing country seeks to benefit whilst the colonized country or land mass, as many of the colonized countries were not countries at all, modernize in terms defined by the colonizers, especially in economics, religion, and health.
Independent An independent politician is an individual politician not affiliated with any political party.
Haredi no desc.
Vennamoism Vennamolaisuus, or Vennamoism in english is name given to the ideology and political movement of Veikko Vennamo, the leader of Finnish Rural Party. It is categorized by populism, reliance on slogans and support for agriculture.
Islamism
Sunni Islam is the largest denomination of Islam. Its name comes from the word Sunnah, referring to the exemplary behavior of the Islamic prophet MuhammadDemocratic Islamism Islamic democracy is a political ideology that seeks to apply Islamic principles to public policy within a democratic framework. Islamic political theory specifies three basic features of an Islamic democracy: leaders must be elected by the people, subject to sharia and committed to practicing \"shura\", a special form of consultation practiced by Prophet Muhammad
Ibadi Imamate no desc.
Radical Shiaism
Shia is a branch of Islam which holds that the Islamic prophet Muhammad designated Ali ibn Abi Talib as his successor (Imam).Shia Monarchy no desc.
Houthiism
Houthiism is an armed movement stemming from a sect of Shia Islam, Zaidiism. Houthiism is almost nonexistent outside of Yemen. The Houthi movement strongly opposes Saudi Arabia, the US, and Israel and seeks to combat the 'underdevelopment and marginalization' of Yemen.
Salafism
Salafism is a reform branch or revivalist movement within Sunni Islam that developed in Egypt in the late 19th century as a response to Western European imperialism, with roots in the 18th-century Wahhabi movement that originated in the Najd region of modern day Saudi Arabia."Eereerhmm... where are the ideology tags?" NOWHERE! I will not add them.
2024.05.18 23:03 Pijacquet Info visibility: does it change something?
Hi! I (28M) joined Hinge a week ago. I still have no likes but I changed pics and prompts yesterday thanks to the guides here.
I filled basically everything on my personal info page but I made some of the things not visible, such as gender, policital opinions and zodiac sign. I would like to know if they are still taken into account with researching tools or with the way Hinge suggest profiles.
Thanks!
submitted by Pijacquet to hingeapp [link] [comments]
I filled basically everything on my personal info page but I made some of the things not visible, such as gender, policital opinions and zodiac sign. I would like to know if they are still taken into account with researching tools or with the way Hinge suggest profiles.
Thanks!
2024.05.18 22:56 Bright-Light22 I have no idea about MTG. Need help understanding what these packs are that my Mum found at a flea market.
I have tried to find packs online that look like this but everything i come across is in a foil packet. What do i have? And basically should i just open them or do they have any resale value? TIA
https://preview.redd.it/fwc1asfk191d1.jpg?width=1134&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1880f7a297eea81dc2d2bb192747be463ab83749
https://preview.redd.it/8awj0tfk191d1.jpg?width=1134&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b27472e302be9745630b42810c44b0d56157d080
submitted by Bright-Light22 to mtg [link] [comments]
https://preview.redd.it/fwc1asfk191d1.jpg?width=1134&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1880f7a297eea81dc2d2bb192747be463ab83749
https://preview.redd.it/8awj0tfk191d1.jpg?width=1134&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b27472e302be9745630b42810c44b0d56157d080
2024.05.18 22:46 titsmgee1977 2 weeks down
 | So I am 2 weeks down today. submitted by titsmgee1977 to Semaglutide [link] [comments] SW: 219 CW: 209 GW:145 Height 5’4 Down 10.6 lbs. 14 total (4 before wegovy) also don’t exercise much due to my arthritis. That and I had a thesis due this week for my masters and work, so I have been busy. But so far I am really impressed with this drug and I cannot wait to see how far it takes me. I really was so doubtful food noise was a thing. It REALLY is a thing. It’s gone. Like completely. I took too much my first two shots and threw up like the dickens. I’m hoping on the normal (.25) low dose I will be okay. Here is a pic of me before (at my heaviest, around 222) and the second was taken yesterday. It’s not easy. I often find myself at odds with my head, telling it that I can’t eat, only to take a few bites and realize my head was right. It’s getting used to a whole new way of living. It’s how you choose restaurants now, what you do with your friends. Because everything revolves around food. I’m so astounded about how little my decisions are based on food now. It’s all I thought about. Now I am forced to face what made me eat like that, to cause those habits. It’s helping me heal not just physically but emotionally too. I’m just so grateful I have it. |
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]
“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.
2024.05.18 22:42 BriefWinner11 Reviewing "NAEQUALITYY"s Telegram Group "SnapHacksPC" - Scamming Ass Tricks Or Actually Serving People? See The Review For Answers!
I think naequalityy's group was a bit sketchy, couldn't really get a lot of proof that satisfied me - so i decided to order myself. Here's what I got.
A lot of scams start off as "pay upfront & shut the fuck up" without providing any security, naequalityy wasn't the same how-ever. Lets get into it starting with looks-
Communication - I was speaking to admins, staff , & members and i'd like to say its not what i expected. I assumed it was some bloke running a cracked software & that was about it but its actually pretty well structured which made it more appealing then other "hackers" who don't seem to actually do anything. I was even able to see start - to finish & updated along the way for my order which i thought was pretty neat.
NOW! I wont sit here and just glaze / dick ride like some jockey - there was a "ugly" side of things im going to cover today as well.
Starting with - TIMES!
So seeing the amount of traffic that takes place, I expected to be waiting maybe a cool 15-20 minutes but upon placing my order we ended up having to wait a full HOUR for results. I mean in the end we walked out with about 200+ pics / videos put we expected to be waiting no-more then 30 minutes. When you're ready to see some shit it tends to take the edge / excitement off. If you have the time then hey- knock yourself out
Another thing we were a bit iffy about were PRICES, for the average joe i'd say if they weren't having sales for members it was pretty steep > so going into it id be very aware of this point. On a side note it DOES come with a lot of content , as well as it working indefinitely not just a one time thing.
How non - snaphacks+ members are treated, well you aren't exactly treated bad but it's usually primarily only service their own! They had a slot open so we got ours on a technicality but remember that if you try getting something beforehand. Its still a good service though!
So in - conclusion , i can vouch & say if you just do some research , talk to a few folks there & see everything they have to offer they "scam" accusations seem to dwindle away. I've not seen any actual screenshots of victims from scams , we ACTUALLY got work done & plenty other have. so a 8.1 / 10 from us! I'll link their Group on our Profile Link
submitted by BriefWinner11 to influencerky_cze_sk [link] [comments]
A lot of scams start off as "pay upfront & shut the fuck up" without providing any security, naequalityy wasn't the same how-ever. Lets get into it starting with looks-
- They have a pretty nice set-up, its not very cluttered & a variety of content posted which drew my attention when i first joined the group. Presentation is key & they seemed to capture this point VERY well - so i can give a point to that.
Communication - I was speaking to admins, staff , & members and i'd like to say its not what i expected. I assumed it was some bloke running a cracked software & that was about it but its actually pretty well structured which made it more appealing then other "hackers" who don't seem to actually do anything. I was even able to see start - to finish & updated along the way for my order which i thought was pretty neat.
NOW! I wont sit here and just glaze / dick ride like some jockey - there was a "ugly" side of things im going to cover today as well.
Starting with - TIMES!
So seeing the amount of traffic that takes place, I expected to be waiting maybe a cool 15-20 minutes but upon placing my order we ended up having to wait a full HOUR for results. I mean in the end we walked out with about 200+ pics / videos put we expected to be waiting no-more then 30 minutes. When you're ready to see some shit it tends to take the edge / excitement off. If you have the time then hey- knock yourself out
Another thing we were a bit iffy about were PRICES, for the average joe i'd say if they weren't having sales for members it was pretty steep > so going into it id be very aware of this point. On a side note it DOES come with a lot of content , as well as it working indefinitely not just a one time thing.
How non - snaphacks+ members are treated, well you aren't exactly treated bad but it's usually primarily only service their own! They had a slot open so we got ours on a technicality but remember that if you try getting something beforehand. Its still a good service though!
So in - conclusion , i can vouch & say if you just do some research , talk to a few folks there & see everything they have to offer they "scam" accusations seem to dwindle away. I've not seen any actual screenshots of victims from scams , we ACTUALLY got work done & plenty other have. so a 8.1 / 10 from us! I'll link their Group on our Profile Link
2024.05.18 22:36 Most-Argument-5352 Waterloo vs UofT
Hey everyone, as most of you know many Grade 12’s have to accept a university in about 2 weeks and I’m so lost rn and I figured I could get some advice to help in my decision.
Waterloo- I applied to geography and aviation and I would have to commute through bus/train as my parents are uncomfortable leaving me alone (I live in the GTA, around an hour and a half away) which I am ok with, but I looked up how to get to the airport through commute and it seems hard to get there as it is on the opposite side of the city, in a more rural area. I also heard the flying portion is expensive but idk how much but some have estimated around 100k and apparently OSAP doesn’t cover that portion. I have always wanted to be a pilot (very hyper-fixated on planes, I track them, visit airport almost all the time to take pics of planes, always try and talk to pilots and even have a collection!!) also I want to work for a large airliner so I can travel places also to work on big airplanes and I have visited the campus and it seems pretty chill which makes me excited to see what’s prepared for me! I am also a female and people have warned me that I would get disadvantaged because of my gender in a male dominated field. I did get a $1000 scholarship the other day but I can raise it to $2000 if I bring my average up.
UofT- I applied to social sciences and it is closer to me and I am able to live at home while studying. I am able to take a car to drive to the campus as I live very close to the campus which is more convenient than a bus/train. If I do take this path, I want to become a diplomat which I am ok with in doing but it means more studying and school where I most likely will do my masters, which is more money out of pocket too. I do not want more schooling as I want a job as soon as I am done but it’s not easy for only an undergraduate with a social sciences/ Bachelors of Arts degree. My siblings also went to UofT in the same field (social sciences) and they told me they really enjoyed it despite the workload/ pressure they received during their time there and made friends and found their community.
What should I do?!??!
submitted by Most-Argument-5352 to OntarioUniversities [link] [comments]
Waterloo- I applied to geography and aviation and I would have to commute through bus/train as my parents are uncomfortable leaving me alone (I live in the GTA, around an hour and a half away) which I am ok with, but I looked up how to get to the airport through commute and it seems hard to get there as it is on the opposite side of the city, in a more rural area. I also heard the flying portion is expensive but idk how much but some have estimated around 100k and apparently OSAP doesn’t cover that portion. I have always wanted to be a pilot (very hyper-fixated on planes, I track them, visit airport almost all the time to take pics of planes, always try and talk to pilots and even have a collection!!) also I want to work for a large airliner so I can travel places also to work on big airplanes and I have visited the campus and it seems pretty chill which makes me excited to see what’s prepared for me! I am also a female and people have warned me that I would get disadvantaged because of my gender in a male dominated field. I did get a $1000 scholarship the other day but I can raise it to $2000 if I bring my average up.
UofT- I applied to social sciences and it is closer to me and I am able to live at home while studying. I am able to take a car to drive to the campus as I live very close to the campus which is more convenient than a bus/train. If I do take this path, I want to become a diplomat which I am ok with in doing but it means more studying and school where I most likely will do my masters, which is more money out of pocket too. I do not want more schooling as I want a job as soon as I am done but it’s not easy for only an undergraduate with a social sciences/ Bachelors of Arts degree. My siblings also went to UofT in the same field (social sciences) and they told me they really enjoyed it despite the workload/ pressure they received during their time there and made friends and found their community.
What should I do?!??!
2024.05.18 22:33 JulianSkies Blackriver Cases - Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?
submitted by JulianSkies to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”
He had hoped for a boring day. Boring days are good at work, and Santos was already expecting to not have many of them for a while.The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?
2024.05.18 22:27 Lukinspire [TOMT] [Flash Animation] [Mid 2000s] System of a Down Flash Animated Music Video
There used to be this niche flash animated video I watched used the song Vicinity of Obscenity by System of a Down, I can recall a few things
submitted by Lukinspire to tipofmytongue [link] [comments]
- It was made either in the mid 2000's or way after
- The animation itself is pretty epileptic
- It had an actors face, it was probably close to Peter Dinklage's with goofy cartoon eyes
- I think it was on Albino Blacksheep or had the symbol but this one's fuzzy
- A frame with SpongeBob and Patrick, with a speech bubble that spelt out "SpongeBob's Gay.", not a joke.
- A recorded video at the end with two teenage dudes making noises and one of them I believe had a guitar
2024.05.18 22:27 sam_coppola Feedback plz! Made an m93r
 | submitted by sam_coppola to blender [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 22:19 HildebertTheCraven How hard is it to win with Shield Bros & Swordlances when throwing, close range two handers and most meta builds are banned? (Day 150 Monolith)
Swordlances and Shield Bros (that actually attack) have gotten a lot of criticism in the BB community, but how bad are they really?
I wanted to find out, so I did a run where I banned most of the meta builds, as well as throwing weapons and close range two handers. I also banned gunners, qatal duelists, mace duelists and cleaver duelists. I also banned berserk and killing frenzy as I wanted to experience the stamina system without relying on berserk recover.
Reach weapons were allowed as their damage is more in line with other weapons. Possibly a mistake though, as they circumvent the weirdness of the stamina system.
Standard pure defense tank builds and normal banner builds were allowed, in order to keep the test focused on the performance of the other builds. Sword duelists were allowed as a filler option for bros without the stamina to do anything else, flail duelists were allowed for guys with bad melee skill.
This started off as a challenge run but it turned into more of a build testing experiment as the off meta builds turned out to be strong enough that it wasn't really much harder than a normal run (until the end). So I fought certain battles multiple times for testing purposes, but still let bros die normally.
Team composition:
4 Attacking Shield Bros, 4-6 frontline Swordlances, 1 Normal Banner, 1 Normal Tank, rest filler in the form of sword duelists & flail duelists. One Shield Bro was also a spearman. Two Swordlances were semi ranged units with around 46 ranged skill and carried crossbows so enemy parties with weak ranged would advance normally. Exact builds in pics.
Team Part 1
.
Team Part 2
Results:
This team actually had a relatively easy time with most fights, getting in ~215 fights by day 149 and finding / buying 33 famed items while only finding a few champions and only buying a few good items. Core bros from early in the game hit level 15. I am not a speed runner or super high fight density player, so that's a decent result for me, which indicates the team was actually surprisingly strong.
Builds:
Frontline Swordlance:
This made up the bulk of my damage. While swordlance has gotten a lot of criticism, frontline swordlance just seems like a good tempo build for most of the game. Aside from gunners, it's simply the easiest way to AOE without requiring high stats or good armor. You can use a daytaler with mediocre starting stats for swordlance, while AOEing with a two hander requires a much better recruit who can survive a fair amount of enemy contact.
Winning against large numbers of humanoid enemies in early high tier camps is largely based on morale checks and getting fearsome procs. Using AOE abilities is a good way to get fearsome procs. Obviously it clears out weaker enemies and that lowers the morale of stronger enemies. But the damage doesn't really fall off too badly until you get to the most heavily armored enemies. It's even fine vs Chosen as you can use the increased reach and mobility to focus fire and get in multiple AOEs and stay out of trouble. Maybe vs later Chosen camps past day 150 that would become more difficult.
In general, with pathfinder + polearm you almost always get at least one attack in and you can focus fire very easily, while keeping your damage bros safe, which goes a long way in terms of tempo compared to other builds that have more dead turns.
Swordlance is also good against beasts like Lindwurms as many beast fights seems to favor the strategy of walk forward, hit with reach weapon, walk out of attack range. You can just AOE the lindwurms down while your damage bros are perfectly safe.
Is it better than Javelins? Probably not, javelins are OP, but it uses a much easier to obtain recruit type and it does have advantages in some fights compared to javelins, as in many of the more risky mid game camps the enemy likely has more range than you, forcing you to advance. Swordlance can simply walk right up to the walls and reap away, while throwers have trouble setting up throwing lanes and one range attackers get clogged up and can't attack.
Swordlance can also invest in a full set of defenses and survivability perks. (That's why it's "Frontline Swordlance".) It doesn't have to waste a scarce backline spot but can safely take contact from even Chosen temporarily, as long as it's not getting swarmed by them. So the more relevant comparison is Swordlance vs Dodge Quickhands. In that comparison Swordlance seems to have a lot of advantages while the disadvantages are minor (especially since in a normal run you can just keep a two handed axe as backup.)
Swordlance damage only really became a problem vs masses of uncontrolled, heavy armor enemies, like if you fight all the Ancient Undead at the same time in Monolith (more on that later). However, in normal fights Ancient Honor Guards aren't challenging due to predictable AI and by day 150 Orc Warriors are still in relatively small numbers and are easily controlled and their morale is easily broken. I guess if you played super late swordlance might start to struggle in some larger camps.
Swordlance build: Poleshield:
Stole this build from this subreddit, thanks! Most of the time he plays as a normal swordlance, but he has the option to swap to a heater shield when he gets stuck in melee and needs the defense. Start with swordlance out, swing (5 ap), swap to shield (4 ap). End turn. Next turn, wait with relentless as shield stays out, swap to swordlance at the end and swing (4 ap + 5 ap). Next turn you will go before slower enemies so you can swing again and put your shield up for the rest of the turn. Most swings hit while shield is up. For most of the game this wasn't needed very often and he instead used a 4 ap weapon as a sidearm so he could dump his stamina into damage as quickly as possible. He tries to stay out of trouble so he doesn't need the shield. However on Monolith or in dangerous situations the shield option did come in handy. One polearm swing per turn isn't great damage, but with AOE it's not horrible and the shield does a lot to keep them alive until they can get out of trouble (can reach 50 defense with dodge). It's also helpful to have the shield out when you use recover.
Swordlance build: Fake Ranged Tempo Poleshield:
If you aren't going to build ranged units, you probably want a couple of fake ranged units, otherwise enemies with minor ranged abilities (like orc young with javelins) won't walk up to you as they normally do. Just take a mediocre ranged recruit with high based ranged skill and get him up to 46 ranged skill, then put the rest of the stats in melee. Start the fight with a crossbow in hand so it's loaded. The AI treats it as a normal ranged unit and will advance normally. You still have to advance if they have a lot of ranged so it's the same as normal runs. He can actually hit quite often with his crossbow vs certain enemies. Bags and belts performed great on these guys but duelist was for a specific weapon and probably shouldn't be taken normally. One died but he had similar stats.
Shield Bros:
While four shield bros that attack plus a tank and a tank banner (who usually just stands there holding the banner) is overkill (or uhh underkill) in terms of low damage defensive units, the shield bros performed surprisingly well in terms of tempo, even though I was never able to find an ideal candidate for a battleforged hammer + shield bro.
In a normal run it often takes a quite a long time to find candidates who can hit a stat line like 85/35 at level 11 to qualify as fatigue neutrals, which means that you can end up with a team full of nimble damage dealers with few defense bros aside from the tanks. That delays your ability to shift to optimal tactics, where the front line is made up of high defense high armor bros who take most of the enemy attacks, while the damage dealers stand in safer positions and try to only get attacked by one enemy at a time.
A unit who wouldn't quite measure up as a fatigue neutral can be made into a Shield Bro instead and he'll have plenty of defense to fill a front line spot and stand up against 3 enemies or more, while still contributing some damage over time.
Probably the most desirable attacking shield bro is a battleforged hammer shield bro, but that only works with high fatigue backgrounds, I didn't get the right recruits for that so I was forced to compromise on my shield bro builds.
Shield Bro Build: Fatigue Neutral Iron Lungs:
Stamina management is a huge problem without access to two handed weapons. Getting attacked by a lot of enemies quickly uses up a lot of stamina and only a small percentage of recruits can have enough stamina to tank in battleforged armor and still swing two times per turn. I never really found many skilled recruits with a high stamina pool like that.
Battleforged is still essential though. Bros with iron lungs can be fatigue neutral and swing certain weapons twice per turn, every turn. Normally that's limited to cleavers and swords, but if you get famed weapons you can expand the list of one handed fatigue neutral weapons. I was lucky enough to get famed weapons for these two, although they were not great ones.
Defensively, these guys performed better than the numbers indicate as they didn't take any bleeds, injuries or fearsome checks. And while their defense is only in the mid 50s with shield, that still makes them significantly tankier than a normal fatigue neutral. Their damage is pretty bad but it adds up in the course of long fights, so I think you'd lose tempo in most fights if you substituted pure defensive tanks. In Monolith they could survive for many rounds tanking up to 7 ancient undead at a time, which nimble or nimbleforged bros could not handle.
With recruiter retinue it makes sense to check a lot of guys for traits anyway and this can be a high impact way to use some guys with iron lungs and mediocre stats. It's a bit niche but I would consider using this build in a normal run, especially if I got an appropriate famed weapon and didn't need a duelist. One of these guys started as a 55*/2* Iron Lungs Daytaler, his performance as a damage sponge + damage over time was solid in this build, but as a duelist he'd have been mediocre and used up a lot of tools. In this run more damage was needed, but in a normal run there is usually a shortage of high defense forged units.
Shield Bro Build: Hammer Shield
One handed Hammer still performs well even without double grip or duelist. Destroy armor still does a lot of armor damage on the appropriate enemies and the regular attack will always proc fearsome, which often means he can simply walk up to an orc warrior or chosen and rout him with a couple hits, while having 60 defense.
This run didn't really maximize the strengths of the hammer shield bro, ideally he'd be a high stamina background in forged armor and he'd be paired with high damage teammates like a barbarian two handed axe that just need a little armor softening.
Nimble and nimbleforged are definitely fine for large camps at 150 days of scaling and earlier but if the late game camps scale to the point where he has no choice but to be focus fired by many high damage enemies, then you'd want a forged bro instead. Mine started to run out of steam when fighting both undead groups at once in Monolith. Still, this is a build I would routinely consider adding to the line up. Another great reason to build this is that Nimble Hammer Shield combines well with Spear + Shield, which is great for mid game tempo.
Shield Bro Build: Spear Specialist
Spear specialist performs a similar role to the indomitable tank, but becomes available earlier. Due to the way the AI works he can often hold off as many as 4-6 enemies for several turns. The spear specialization perk is very valuable as you can continue to refresh spearwall even while tanking another enemy, often you can arrange it so the only available spot for an enemy to attack is next to the spearman, causing several enemies to waste their turns trying to move in. Two handed enemies like chosen and berserkers are particularly crippled as they can only move one tile and attack, so you either force them to waste their turn by moving, or if they walk into spearwall they lose their turn if the spearman hits even once. The spearman singlehandedly increases the number of camps that will be profitable for your team. Spear combines well with shield and hammer in the classic Spear Hammer Shield Build from early BB, giving you something to do when you are done spearwalling. Will build again.
Weaknesses and Monolith:
I did multiple Black Monolith fights for testing purposes.
https://preview.redd.it/tgvvrj14881d1.png?width=1779&format=png&auto=webp&s=a58156df46337efd136bccea6564799c81e2abf2
I'm aware of two strategies for Monolith, with one being significantly easier than the other.
The "Speedrun" strategy (seen in Shringshring's video here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ayh35O9mLUw&t=8429s) involves splitting the undead into two groups by running the tank to the top left corner of the map, while the rest of the team retreats towards the bottom left corner of the map. The fight plays out as two separate fights with a break in between. It is reliable if you move like he does, the necrosavants may attack if your team spreads out too much though. Even if you only move a little bit though, it's enough to split the undead as long as the tank makes it to the corner.
The other strategy is the "Normal" or "Hard Mode" strategy for Monolith, where the tank runs approximately 4 hexes towards the top of the map and the team retreats approximately two hexes to the left. The fight starts sooner and it is possible for the tank to die relatively quickly. You need either a good tank to last a long time or a good amount of damage, otherwise you can end up facing both undead groups at the same time. This is the more difficult strategy but high damage late game teams with good tanks can handle it fine.
The Shield Bro + Swordlance team doesn't have any problem with Monolith with the speedrun strategy. It's true that the swordlances feel a bit weak against the ancient honor guards, but there isn't excessive pressure on the team so it can take the time to set up good AOEs with swordlances, weaken armor with hammer bros and focus fire. It plays out like two normal fights back to back.
However, when trying to brute force both Ancient Dead groups with the "Hard Mode" strategy, the team finally starts to show its weakness. The team takes 20 to 21 rounds to beat Monolith using this strategy. That's much slower than normal for Monolith. The Battleforged fatigue neutral shield bros performed well, surviving for many rounds while getting hit by up to 7 ancient honor guards at a time, but having the fight take so long leaves more time for things to go wrong and win rate on Monolith was probably only about 60% with this strategy, as there was a risk of the tank going down early. This could have been reduced with a better tank and/or more potions. Fighting both undead groups + necrosavants all at once was too much for the team to overcome reliably. Swordlances ran out of stamina and got stuck in non optimal positions for AOE, hammers were not able to eliminate Honor Guards quickly enough on their own. It may also have been a mistake to go from 5-6 Swordlances in most normal fights to only 4 in the Monolith, by benching the faked ranged for newly trained high defense bros, as there was a real lack of damage for the "Hard Mode" strategy.
While there isn't much reason to do the "Hard Mode" strategy instead of the "Speedrun" strategy, this still hints at a weakness that might show up in certain extremely highly scaled camps late in the game, like very late sea of tents. Just not enough damage vs armor, plus tons and tons of armored enemies pushing in too fast, getting in contact with vulnerable nimble units. However the amount of orc warriors that spawned in early game Sea of Tents were no problem at all, swordlance guys could just keep a tier 2 hammer in the pocket and easily rout them with fearsome after routing the young and berserkers.
Finally, fighting both undead groups at once illustrated some problems with the stamina system in this game as it relates to 4ap weapons. I left the sword duelist option available for filler bros with lower stamina who couldn't do anything else. Normally the build performed fine, however when there was an extremely high density of enemies and the sword duelist was getting attacked a lot he quickly ran out of stamina and could rarely regain enough to swing twice. He could either use recover, which was never needed in any other fight, or he could stand there and swing only once like an idiot. I gave them reach weapons for just this reason, but it was kind of a crutch to play around this imbalance of the stamina system, that's why two handed weapons are so good after all. In the Speedrun strategy when the undead were split into two groups, the sword duelists had no problems as they could take positions where only small numbers of enemies could swing at them.
Conclusion:
The meta builds exist for a reason of course, but the Devs generally did a great job balancing this game and you can definitely make a lot of non-meta builds work. Sometimes they even feel quite strong. However, when designing your non-meta builds keep in mind the imbalances with the stamina system. For a tanky character with a high stamina pool who uses high stamina cost moves, like the Hammer Shield Bro, taking a turn to recover doesn't feel too bad. But pathfinder based 4 ap builds that don't use much stamina in normal fights can find their offense shut down if they let a lot of enemies swing at them. That kind of limits the value of high defense and high durability on this kind of unit and makes me want to avoid putting 4 ap weapons on them, even though it seems more thematic than giant two handed weapons.
submitted by HildebertTheCraven to BattleBrothers [link] [comments]
I wanted to find out, so I did a run where I banned most of the meta builds, as well as throwing weapons and close range two handers. I also banned gunners, qatal duelists, mace duelists and cleaver duelists. I also banned berserk and killing frenzy as I wanted to experience the stamina system without relying on berserk recover.
Reach weapons were allowed as their damage is more in line with other weapons. Possibly a mistake though, as they circumvent the weirdness of the stamina system.
Standard pure defense tank builds and normal banner builds were allowed, in order to keep the test focused on the performance of the other builds. Sword duelists were allowed as a filler option for bros without the stamina to do anything else, flail duelists were allowed for guys with bad melee skill.
This started off as a challenge run but it turned into more of a build testing experiment as the off meta builds turned out to be strong enough that it wasn't really much harder than a normal run (until the end). So I fought certain battles multiple times for testing purposes, but still let bros die normally.
Team composition:
4 Attacking Shield Bros, 4-6 frontline Swordlances, 1 Normal Banner, 1 Normal Tank, rest filler in the form of sword duelists & flail duelists. One Shield Bro was also a spearman. Two Swordlances were semi ranged units with around 46 ranged skill and carried crossbows so enemy parties with weak ranged would advance normally. Exact builds in pics.
Team Part 1
.
Team Part 2
Results:
This team actually had a relatively easy time with most fights, getting in ~215 fights by day 149 and finding / buying 33 famed items while only finding a few champions and only buying a few good items. Core bros from early in the game hit level 15. I am not a speed runner or super high fight density player, so that's a decent result for me, which indicates the team was actually surprisingly strong.
Builds:
Frontline Swordlance:
This made up the bulk of my damage. While swordlance has gotten a lot of criticism, frontline swordlance just seems like a good tempo build for most of the game. Aside from gunners, it's simply the easiest way to AOE without requiring high stats or good armor. You can use a daytaler with mediocre starting stats for swordlance, while AOEing with a two hander requires a much better recruit who can survive a fair amount of enemy contact.
Winning against large numbers of humanoid enemies in early high tier camps is largely based on morale checks and getting fearsome procs. Using AOE abilities is a good way to get fearsome procs. Obviously it clears out weaker enemies and that lowers the morale of stronger enemies. But the damage doesn't really fall off too badly until you get to the most heavily armored enemies. It's even fine vs Chosen as you can use the increased reach and mobility to focus fire and get in multiple AOEs and stay out of trouble. Maybe vs later Chosen camps past day 150 that would become more difficult.
In general, with pathfinder + polearm you almost always get at least one attack in and you can focus fire very easily, while keeping your damage bros safe, which goes a long way in terms of tempo compared to other builds that have more dead turns.
Swordlance is also good against beasts like Lindwurms as many beast fights seems to favor the strategy of walk forward, hit with reach weapon, walk out of attack range. You can just AOE the lindwurms down while your damage bros are perfectly safe.
Is it better than Javelins? Probably not, javelins are OP, but it uses a much easier to obtain recruit type and it does have advantages in some fights compared to javelins, as in many of the more risky mid game camps the enemy likely has more range than you, forcing you to advance. Swordlance can simply walk right up to the walls and reap away, while throwers have trouble setting up throwing lanes and one range attackers get clogged up and can't attack.
Swordlance can also invest in a full set of defenses and survivability perks. (That's why it's "Frontline Swordlance".) It doesn't have to waste a scarce backline spot but can safely take contact from even Chosen temporarily, as long as it's not getting swarmed by them. So the more relevant comparison is Swordlance vs Dodge Quickhands. In that comparison Swordlance seems to have a lot of advantages while the disadvantages are minor (especially since in a normal run you can just keep a two handed axe as backup.)
Swordlance damage only really became a problem vs masses of uncontrolled, heavy armor enemies, like if you fight all the Ancient Undead at the same time in Monolith (more on that later). However, in normal fights Ancient Honor Guards aren't challenging due to predictable AI and by day 150 Orc Warriors are still in relatively small numbers and are easily controlled and their morale is easily broken. I guess if you played super late swordlance might start to struggle in some larger camps.
Swordlance build: Poleshield:
Stole this build from this subreddit, thanks! Most of the time he plays as a normal swordlance, but he has the option to swap to a heater shield when he gets stuck in melee and needs the defense. Start with swordlance out, swing (5 ap), swap to shield (4 ap). End turn. Next turn, wait with relentless as shield stays out, swap to swordlance at the end and swing (4 ap + 5 ap). Next turn you will go before slower enemies so you can swing again and put your shield up for the rest of the turn. Most swings hit while shield is up. For most of the game this wasn't needed very often and he instead used a 4 ap weapon as a sidearm so he could dump his stamina into damage as quickly as possible. He tries to stay out of trouble so he doesn't need the shield. However on Monolith or in dangerous situations the shield option did come in handy. One polearm swing per turn isn't great damage, but with AOE it's not horrible and the shield does a lot to keep them alive until they can get out of trouble (can reach 50 defense with dodge). It's also helpful to have the shield out when you use recover.
Swordlance build: Fake Ranged Tempo Poleshield:
If you aren't going to build ranged units, you probably want a couple of fake ranged units, otherwise enemies with minor ranged abilities (like orc young with javelins) won't walk up to you as they normally do. Just take a mediocre ranged recruit with high based ranged skill and get him up to 46 ranged skill, then put the rest of the stats in melee. Start the fight with a crossbow in hand so it's loaded. The AI treats it as a normal ranged unit and will advance normally. You still have to advance if they have a lot of ranged so it's the same as normal runs. He can actually hit quite often with his crossbow vs certain enemies. Bags and belts performed great on these guys but duelist was for a specific weapon and probably shouldn't be taken normally. One died but he had similar stats.
Shield Bros:
While four shield bros that attack plus a tank and a tank banner (who usually just stands there holding the banner) is overkill (or uhh underkill) in terms of low damage defensive units, the shield bros performed surprisingly well in terms of tempo, even though I was never able to find an ideal candidate for a battleforged hammer + shield bro.
In a normal run it often takes a quite a long time to find candidates who can hit a stat line like 85/35 at level 11 to qualify as fatigue neutrals, which means that you can end up with a team full of nimble damage dealers with few defense bros aside from the tanks. That delays your ability to shift to optimal tactics, where the front line is made up of high defense high armor bros who take most of the enemy attacks, while the damage dealers stand in safer positions and try to only get attacked by one enemy at a time.
A unit who wouldn't quite measure up as a fatigue neutral can be made into a Shield Bro instead and he'll have plenty of defense to fill a front line spot and stand up against 3 enemies or more, while still contributing some damage over time.
Probably the most desirable attacking shield bro is a battleforged hammer shield bro, but that only works with high fatigue backgrounds, I didn't get the right recruits for that so I was forced to compromise on my shield bro builds.
Shield Bro Build: Fatigue Neutral Iron Lungs:
Stamina management is a huge problem without access to two handed weapons. Getting attacked by a lot of enemies quickly uses up a lot of stamina and only a small percentage of recruits can have enough stamina to tank in battleforged armor and still swing two times per turn. I never really found many skilled recruits with a high stamina pool like that.
Battleforged is still essential though. Bros with iron lungs can be fatigue neutral and swing certain weapons twice per turn, every turn. Normally that's limited to cleavers and swords, but if you get famed weapons you can expand the list of one handed fatigue neutral weapons. I was lucky enough to get famed weapons for these two, although they were not great ones.
Defensively, these guys performed better than the numbers indicate as they didn't take any bleeds, injuries or fearsome checks. And while their defense is only in the mid 50s with shield, that still makes them significantly tankier than a normal fatigue neutral. Their damage is pretty bad but it adds up in the course of long fights, so I think you'd lose tempo in most fights if you substituted pure defensive tanks. In Monolith they could survive for many rounds tanking up to 7 ancient undead at a time, which nimble or nimbleforged bros could not handle.
With recruiter retinue it makes sense to check a lot of guys for traits anyway and this can be a high impact way to use some guys with iron lungs and mediocre stats. It's a bit niche but I would consider using this build in a normal run, especially if I got an appropriate famed weapon and didn't need a duelist. One of these guys started as a 55*/2* Iron Lungs Daytaler, his performance as a damage sponge + damage over time was solid in this build, but as a duelist he'd have been mediocre and used up a lot of tools. In this run more damage was needed, but in a normal run there is usually a shortage of high defense forged units.
Shield Bro Build: Hammer Shield
One handed Hammer still performs well even without double grip or duelist. Destroy armor still does a lot of armor damage on the appropriate enemies and the regular attack will always proc fearsome, which often means he can simply walk up to an orc warrior or chosen and rout him with a couple hits, while having 60 defense.
This run didn't really maximize the strengths of the hammer shield bro, ideally he'd be a high stamina background in forged armor and he'd be paired with high damage teammates like a barbarian two handed axe that just need a little armor softening.
Nimble and nimbleforged are definitely fine for large camps at 150 days of scaling and earlier but if the late game camps scale to the point where he has no choice but to be focus fired by many high damage enemies, then you'd want a forged bro instead. Mine started to run out of steam when fighting both undead groups at once in Monolith. Still, this is a build I would routinely consider adding to the line up. Another great reason to build this is that Nimble Hammer Shield combines well with Spear + Shield, which is great for mid game tempo.
Shield Bro Build: Spear Specialist
Spear specialist performs a similar role to the indomitable tank, but becomes available earlier. Due to the way the AI works he can often hold off as many as 4-6 enemies for several turns. The spear specialization perk is very valuable as you can continue to refresh spearwall even while tanking another enemy, often you can arrange it so the only available spot for an enemy to attack is next to the spearman, causing several enemies to waste their turns trying to move in. Two handed enemies like chosen and berserkers are particularly crippled as they can only move one tile and attack, so you either force them to waste their turn by moving, or if they walk into spearwall they lose their turn if the spearman hits even once. The spearman singlehandedly increases the number of camps that will be profitable for your team. Spear combines well with shield and hammer in the classic Spear Hammer Shield Build from early BB, giving you something to do when you are done spearwalling. Will build again.
Weaknesses and Monolith:
I did multiple Black Monolith fights for testing purposes.
https://preview.redd.it/tgvvrj14881d1.png?width=1779&format=png&auto=webp&s=a58156df46337efd136bccea6564799c81e2abf2
I'm aware of two strategies for Monolith, with one being significantly easier than the other.
The "Speedrun" strategy (seen in Shringshring's video here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ayh35O9mLUw&t=8429s) involves splitting the undead into two groups by running the tank to the top left corner of the map, while the rest of the team retreats towards the bottom left corner of the map. The fight plays out as two separate fights with a break in between. It is reliable if you move like he does, the necrosavants may attack if your team spreads out too much though. Even if you only move a little bit though, it's enough to split the undead as long as the tank makes it to the corner.
The other strategy is the "Normal" or "Hard Mode" strategy for Monolith, where the tank runs approximately 4 hexes towards the top of the map and the team retreats approximately two hexes to the left. The fight starts sooner and it is possible for the tank to die relatively quickly. You need either a good tank to last a long time or a good amount of damage, otherwise you can end up facing both undead groups at the same time. This is the more difficult strategy but high damage late game teams with good tanks can handle it fine.
The Shield Bro + Swordlance team doesn't have any problem with Monolith with the speedrun strategy. It's true that the swordlances feel a bit weak against the ancient honor guards, but there isn't excessive pressure on the team so it can take the time to set up good AOEs with swordlances, weaken armor with hammer bros and focus fire. It plays out like two normal fights back to back.
However, when trying to brute force both Ancient Dead groups with the "Hard Mode" strategy, the team finally starts to show its weakness. The team takes 20 to 21 rounds to beat Monolith using this strategy. That's much slower than normal for Monolith. The Battleforged fatigue neutral shield bros performed well, surviving for many rounds while getting hit by up to 7 ancient honor guards at a time, but having the fight take so long leaves more time for things to go wrong and win rate on Monolith was probably only about 60% with this strategy, as there was a risk of the tank going down early. This could have been reduced with a better tank and/or more potions. Fighting both undead groups + necrosavants all at once was too much for the team to overcome reliably. Swordlances ran out of stamina and got stuck in non optimal positions for AOE, hammers were not able to eliminate Honor Guards quickly enough on their own. It may also have been a mistake to go from 5-6 Swordlances in most normal fights to only 4 in the Monolith, by benching the faked ranged for newly trained high defense bros, as there was a real lack of damage for the "Hard Mode" strategy.
While there isn't much reason to do the "Hard Mode" strategy instead of the "Speedrun" strategy, this still hints at a weakness that might show up in certain extremely highly scaled camps late in the game, like very late sea of tents. Just not enough damage vs armor, plus tons and tons of armored enemies pushing in too fast, getting in contact with vulnerable nimble units. However the amount of orc warriors that spawned in early game Sea of Tents were no problem at all, swordlance guys could just keep a tier 2 hammer in the pocket and easily rout them with fearsome after routing the young and berserkers.
Finally, fighting both undead groups at once illustrated some problems with the stamina system in this game as it relates to 4ap weapons. I left the sword duelist option available for filler bros with lower stamina who couldn't do anything else. Normally the build performed fine, however when there was an extremely high density of enemies and the sword duelist was getting attacked a lot he quickly ran out of stamina and could rarely regain enough to swing twice. He could either use recover, which was never needed in any other fight, or he could stand there and swing only once like an idiot. I gave them reach weapons for just this reason, but it was kind of a crutch to play around this imbalance of the stamina system, that's why two handed weapons are so good after all. In the Speedrun strategy when the undead were split into two groups, the sword duelists had no problems as they could take positions where only small numbers of enemies could swing at them.
Conclusion:
The meta builds exist for a reason of course, but the Devs generally did a great job balancing this game and you can definitely make a lot of non-meta builds work. Sometimes they even feel quite strong. However, when designing your non-meta builds keep in mind the imbalances with the stamina system. For a tanky character with a high stamina pool who uses high stamina cost moves, like the Hammer Shield Bro, taking a turn to recover doesn't feel too bad. But pathfinder based 4 ap builds that don't use much stamina in normal fights can find their offense shut down if they let a lot of enemies swing at them. That kind of limits the value of high defense and high durability on this kind of unit and makes me want to avoid putting 4 ap weapons on them, even though it seems more thematic than giant two handed weapons.
2024.05.18 22:17 ButtonMcThickums Tips on Prop Boxes and Rooting in Aquariums
 | I would love to hear experiences about using prop boxes, tips etc and people who use the water from their tanks to water and to root cuttings! submitted by ButtonMcThickums to houseplants [link] [comments] I made a prop box for the first time - I have a ton more props but they are in water or perlite in a ziploc. I used LECA for the water layer then perlite on top, and threw that puppy on a heat pad. The second pic is a square 2 gallon tank I picked up for $5 today! I’m going to use it for propping, I’ll eventually get 3 minnows just so I can use their poop water for my plants. I went ahead and ordered a very small filter, tiny heater, air pump, massive bubbler, full spectrum clip on plant light and then these little boxes with slots that hang onto the edge of the tank for plant cuttings. |
2024.05.18 22:06 Reddatur I was investigating an abandoned psychiatric hospital. After what I've found, I'll never be the same.
My name is Lisa, and I’m a 25-year-old artist. I’ve always had a fascination with the macabre, which is why I jumped at the chance to explore an abandoned psychiatric hospital for my latest project. I planned to capture the eerie beauty of the decaying building, but I ended up uncovering something far more sinister.
The hospital had been shut down for decades, rumored to be haunted by the spirits of the patients who suffered there. It stood on the outskirts of a small town, its presence looming like a dark shadow over the landscape. I arrived at dusk, my camera and sketchpad ready, not knowing that the true horror was about to begin.
As soon as I stepped inside, the air felt thick and oppressive. The corridors were lined with peeling wallpaper and broken furniture, remnants of a place once filled with life now reduced to silence. I began my work, sketching and photographing the desolate rooms. But as night fell, I started to hear whispers.
At first, I thought it was the wind playing tricks on me. But then I saw her—a ghostly child standing at the end of the hallway. Her eyes were hollow, and she wore a tattered hospital gown. She didn’t speak, but her presence was enough to send chills down my spine.
I tried to rationalize it as a figment of my imagination, a product of the eerie atmosphere. But when I looked through the viewfinder of my camera, she was still there, staring at me. I decided to leave, but as I turned to go, the hallway seemed to stretch infinitely. No matter how far I walked, I couldn’t find the exit.
Panic set in. I wandered through the maze-like corridors, each turn leading me deeper into the hospital. The whispers grew louder, and shadows danced just beyond my vision. I stumbled upon an old treatment room, and that’s when I felt it—an icy grip on my shoulder. I spun around, but there was no one there.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor, unable to move. My body felt like it was being pinned down by an unseen force. The whispers turned into guttural growls, and I saw the ghostly child again, but this time she wasn’t alone. Dark figures surrounded her, their eyes glowing with malevolence.
I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but when I woke up, it was morning. I was outside the hospital, my camera and sketchpad scattered around me. I tried to convince myself it was a nightmare, but the bruises on my arms told a different story.
I left the town, determined to forget what had happened. But the events of that night haunted me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the child and her demonic entourage. I began to notice changes in myself—unexplained rage, blackouts, and strange symbols appearing in my sketches. I knew I had brought something back with me.
Desperate for answers, I returned to the hospital. This time, I was prepared. Armed with research on exorcisms and protective charms, I ventured back into the darkness. The building seemed to welcome me, the shadows reaching out like old friends. The whispers began immediately, guiding me to the same treatment room.
I confronted the ghostly child, demanding to know what she wanted. To my horror, she spoke in a voice not her own, a deep, demonic growl that echoed through the room. She told me that the hospital was a place of great suffering, a beacon for malevolent spirits. She and the others were trapped, seeking release through me.
I tried to perform the exorcism, but the entities were too powerful. They overpowered me, forcing me to relive the horrors of the hospital’s past—patients tortured, doctors driven mad, and rituals that opened doorways to unspeakable realms. Each time I thought I escaped, I found myself back in the same room, the same moment.
It was a time loop, a never-ending cycle of terror. I was their plaything, my mind fracturing under the constant assault. Days, months, years passed—I lost track of time. Every escape attempt brought me back to the beginning, each failure chipping away at my sanity.
One night, I discovered a hidden room behind a crumbling wall. Inside, I found journals written by Dr. Whitaker, the hospital’s chief psychiatrist. His writings detailed experiments to contact the other side, using patients as conduits. The journals described a ritual to bind spirits, a possible way to end the torment.
Armed with this new knowledge, I gathered the items needed for the ritual—candles, chalk, and an ancient tome I found in the hospital’s basement. The ritual required a blood sacrifice, and I hesitated, but the thought of eternal torment pushed me forward. I cut my palm and let the blood drip onto the chalk-drawn symbols.
As I began to chant, the air grew colder. The ghostly child appeared, flanked by the dark figures. They howled in rage, trying to break the circle of protection I had drawn. The ground shook, and the walls seemed to close in. My voice trembled, but I continued, pouring all my will into the words.
Suddenly, the figures froze. A blinding light filled the room, and I heard a deafening scream. When the light faded, the figures were gone, and the child stood before me, her eyes no longer hollow. She whispered a thank you before vanishing into the ether.
Exhausted, I collapsed, waking up hours later to a silent hospital. I stumbled outside, the dawn breaking over the horizon. I felt a sense of peace, but it was short-lived. As I made my way home, I noticed people staring at me, whispering. My reflection in shop windows showed dark, hollow eyes staring back. The entities had not been banished; they had latched onto me, using me as their new vessel.
I fled the town, hoping to escape their grasp, but they followed. My mind continued to fracture, the symbols appearing on my skin now. I’m writing this from a motel room, knowing my time is short. If you’re reading this, beware. The hospital’s evil isn’t contained within its walls—it’s a stain on the soul. Don’t come looking for me. Don’t try to find the truth. Some places are meant to be forgotten, their secrets buried in darkness.
submitted by Reddatur to Horror_stories [link] [comments]
The hospital had been shut down for decades, rumored to be haunted by the spirits of the patients who suffered there. It stood on the outskirts of a small town, its presence looming like a dark shadow over the landscape. I arrived at dusk, my camera and sketchpad ready, not knowing that the true horror was about to begin.
As soon as I stepped inside, the air felt thick and oppressive. The corridors were lined with peeling wallpaper and broken furniture, remnants of a place once filled with life now reduced to silence. I began my work, sketching and photographing the desolate rooms. But as night fell, I started to hear whispers.
At first, I thought it was the wind playing tricks on me. But then I saw her—a ghostly child standing at the end of the hallway. Her eyes were hollow, and she wore a tattered hospital gown. She didn’t speak, but her presence was enough to send chills down my spine.
I tried to rationalize it as a figment of my imagination, a product of the eerie atmosphere. But when I looked through the viewfinder of my camera, she was still there, staring at me. I decided to leave, but as I turned to go, the hallway seemed to stretch infinitely. No matter how far I walked, I couldn’t find the exit.
Panic set in. I wandered through the maze-like corridors, each turn leading me deeper into the hospital. The whispers grew louder, and shadows danced just beyond my vision. I stumbled upon an old treatment room, and that’s when I felt it—an icy grip on my shoulder. I spun around, but there was no one there.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor, unable to move. My body felt like it was being pinned down by an unseen force. The whispers turned into guttural growls, and I saw the ghostly child again, but this time she wasn’t alone. Dark figures surrounded her, their eyes glowing with malevolence.
I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but when I woke up, it was morning. I was outside the hospital, my camera and sketchpad scattered around me. I tried to convince myself it was a nightmare, but the bruises on my arms told a different story.
I left the town, determined to forget what had happened. But the events of that night haunted me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the child and her demonic entourage. I began to notice changes in myself—unexplained rage, blackouts, and strange symbols appearing in my sketches. I knew I had brought something back with me.
Desperate for answers, I returned to the hospital. This time, I was prepared. Armed with research on exorcisms and protective charms, I ventured back into the darkness. The building seemed to welcome me, the shadows reaching out like old friends. The whispers began immediately, guiding me to the same treatment room.
I confronted the ghostly child, demanding to know what she wanted. To my horror, she spoke in a voice not her own, a deep, demonic growl that echoed through the room. She told me that the hospital was a place of great suffering, a beacon for malevolent spirits. She and the others were trapped, seeking release through me.
I tried to perform the exorcism, but the entities were too powerful. They overpowered me, forcing me to relive the horrors of the hospital’s past—patients tortured, doctors driven mad, and rituals that opened doorways to unspeakable realms. Each time I thought I escaped, I found myself back in the same room, the same moment.
It was a time loop, a never-ending cycle of terror. I was their plaything, my mind fracturing under the constant assault. Days, months, years passed—I lost track of time. Every escape attempt brought me back to the beginning, each failure chipping away at my sanity.
One night, I discovered a hidden room behind a crumbling wall. Inside, I found journals written by Dr. Whitaker, the hospital’s chief psychiatrist. His writings detailed experiments to contact the other side, using patients as conduits. The journals described a ritual to bind spirits, a possible way to end the torment.
Armed with this new knowledge, I gathered the items needed for the ritual—candles, chalk, and an ancient tome I found in the hospital’s basement. The ritual required a blood sacrifice, and I hesitated, but the thought of eternal torment pushed me forward. I cut my palm and let the blood drip onto the chalk-drawn symbols.
As I began to chant, the air grew colder. The ghostly child appeared, flanked by the dark figures. They howled in rage, trying to break the circle of protection I had drawn. The ground shook, and the walls seemed to close in. My voice trembled, but I continued, pouring all my will into the words.
Suddenly, the figures froze. A blinding light filled the room, and I heard a deafening scream. When the light faded, the figures were gone, and the child stood before me, her eyes no longer hollow. She whispered a thank you before vanishing into the ether.
Exhausted, I collapsed, waking up hours later to a silent hospital. I stumbled outside, the dawn breaking over the horizon. I felt a sense of peace, but it was short-lived. As I made my way home, I noticed people staring at me, whispering. My reflection in shop windows showed dark, hollow eyes staring back. The entities had not been banished; they had latched onto me, using me as their new vessel.
I fled the town, hoping to escape their grasp, but they followed. My mind continued to fracture, the symbols appearing on my skin now. I’m writing this from a motel room, knowing my time is short. If you’re reading this, beware. The hospital’s evil isn’t contained within its walls—it’s a stain on the soul. Don’t come looking for me. Don’t try to find the truth. Some places are meant to be forgotten, their secrets buried in darkness.
2024.05.18 21:59 theThiccNessMonster PR or contact dermatitis? Experiences with oral steroids?
 | I have all the hallmarks of PR (herald patch that showed up first, third pic; precipitated by a brief illness; made worse by heat/humidity), but the doc at urgent care thinks it’s just a severe case of contact dermatitis or some other allergic reaction and prescribed an oral steroid. Some quick googling suggests that oral steroids should not be a first course treatment for PR—what do y’all think? Anyone who took oral steroids, did it help? submitted by theThiccNessMonster to PityriasisRosea [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 21:53 Frog-2021 An example of Indian unity and brotherhood
 | As if insulting Muslims as a community in general wasn't enough, these proud and patriotic redditors have started using the word 'mallu' as an insult. In fact, these keyboard sainiks do this for South Indians in general. submitted by Frog-2021 to indiadiscussion [link] [comments] Don't become surprised to find out that these comments are from this subreddit it self. Whatever the context might be, have we just made it a regular thing to generalize and insult the entire population of certain people? Be it muslim, or keralites, or Tamils, or even biharis, Dalits, etc.?? |