Pokedex for chaos black

Death to the False Emperor!

2018.04.19 18:59 BallingerEscapePlan Death to the False Emperor!

A subreddit dedicated to the Black Legion from 40k.From shame and shadow recast.In black and gold reborn.
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2011.08.22 05:05 Hxthatsit The Left Hand Path

A subreddit for the sinister side of spirituality. The term "Left Hand Path" refers to any tradition adversarial to the mainstream of spiritual practice. Anyone is welcome to post as long as it is on-topic and follows reddit site-wide policy.
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2008.03.23 17:55 The Occult: News for armchair and practicing metaphysical skeptics

The Occult: News for armchair and practicing metaphysical skeptics.
[link]


2024.05.19 01:58 Starlose [US] [SELLING] MASSIVE ANIME COLLECTION!!! RARE OOP ITEMS!!! PRICE DROP!!!

https://imgur.com/a/ChGLMxn
I want to first say thanks to everyone in this community for purchasing pieces of my collection so far. You've been able to help me, and family tremendously. I still have a few more items I need to sell to be in a good spot, and as a thanks to all of you I'll be dropping the price on the majority of what I have left. I'll also give FREE SHIPPING to everyone interested in buying something.
Allison and Lillia Set 1 & 2 (DVD) - $25
Aria the Animation, Origination Boxsets (DVD) - $40
Beck Mongolian Chop Squad Boxset (DVD) - $100
Black Heaven Boxset (DVD) - $20
Bleach Set 1 & 2 Boxsets (DVD) - $20
Burst Angel Boxset (DVD) - $25
Chaos Head Boxset (Bluray) - $25
Daily Life of Highschool Boys Boxset (Bluray) - $50
Danganronpa Boxset LE (Bluray) - $35
Dragonball Z , and GT Boxsets (DVD) - $45
Dragonball Z Namek Saga Boxset (DVD) - $100
Fate Stay Night Boxet (DVD) - $60
Full Metal Panic, Fumoffu, 2nd Raid Boxsets (DVD) - $60
Genshiken 1 & 2 Boxsets (DVD) - $40
Get Backers Complete Series Boxsets (DVD) - $40
Ghost in the Shell Arise Border 3&4 [Bluray] - $20
Girls High Boxset (DVD) - $15
Grenadier Boxset (DVD) - $15
Gungrave Boxset (DVD) - $40
Gun Sword Boxset (DVD) - $40
Hellsing Ultimate Steelbook Vol 1-3, Bluray LE, EP 9-10 Bluray - $75
Kannazuki no Miko Boxset (DVD) - $25
Kashimashi Girl Meets Girl Boxset (DVD) - $15
Kino's Journey Boxset (DVD) - $25
Kirameki Project Boxset (DVD) - $15
Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya Boxset (DVD) - $60
My Hero Academia Season 1 LE (Bluray) - $30
My Hime, My Otome, My Otome Zwei (DVD) - $40
Noir Boxset (DVD) - $35
Gundam Movie Boxset (DVD) - $30
Pani Poni Dash Boxset (DVD) - $60
Puella Magi Madoka Magica Rebllion JP LE (Bluray) - $30
Rage of Bahamut LE Boxset (Bluray) - $40
Red Garden Boxset (DVD) - $70
Rental Magica Set 1 and 2 LE (DVD) - $40
Rumbling Hearts Boxset (DVD) - $15
Sailor Moon R Season 2 LE (Bluray) - $35
Sakura Wars TV Collection Boxset (DVD) - $40
Shakugan no Shana Season 1,2,3 Boxsets (Bluray) $80
Shiki Complete Series S.A.V.E (Bluray) $45
Solty Rei Boxset (DVD) - $35
Speed Grapher Boxset (DVD) - $60
Stratos 4 Boxset (DVD) - $35
Strawberry Marshmallow Boxset (DVD) - $35
Strawberry Panic Complete (DVD) $15
Teknoman Complete Collection Boxset (DVD)- $35
Tenjho Tenge Boxset (DVD) - $35
Trigun Boxset (DVD) - $45
Trinity Blood Boxet (DVD) - $60
Vandread Boxset (DVD) - $30
Yozakura Quartet Complete (DVD) - $30
This will be a stretch, but if anyone is interested on buying everything I'll give a big discount. Currently the lot is valued at $1995, but I would sell everything for $1500. I'll of course adjust the price if people keep buying specific items.
Thanks again everyone!
submitted by Starlose to mangaswap [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 00:18 LordGaulis Skaven are beastman? Or are they? (Theory)

Saltpyre from vermintide insists they are beastman who worship a different god, and while the details in the poem where the skaven are first mention doom of Kavzar is intentionally vague we do know two things.
When all remaining survivors of the disaster in their despair turn to chaos, offering human sacrifices and performing rituals to seek aid from the chaos gods nothing happens… with the screaming bell hinted at being the cause. Shortly after the skaven appear out of nowhere and claim to be the lords of the city and all the dwarfs below are dead with the new skaven lords ruling below in their hold.
Whoever wrote this poem was probably either there or had spoken with the survivors who fled before the very end, so not everyone is being included in this account which may have been altered over the years. What if some of the human survivors had become something else?
Assuming the horned rat didn’t exist before the doom of Kavzar then someone in the poem probably becomes the horned rat and who better than the mysterious grey man who fooled them all? All of Kavzar problems started when he finished the tower with a addition of his own god, himself! (Probably) The events of the poem happen slowly at first with endless rain causing a famine snowballing into meteor showers as more people die from starvation. The screaming bell block the aid of good and evil leaving the horned rat in control?
Imagine this situation the logical answer to your food problems were stealing and cannibalism, which would have the group kick you out so lies and deceit became your trade. Whether it was gradual or sudden chaos infesting the city would have turned you into a form that best represents these traits, a rat.
Ironically these ratman would then really be the lords of the city with the black hunger that makes then ravenous a constant reminder of their sins. As far as ratman are concerned everyone in the city still belongs to them and the dwarfs refusal to help earlier and belief they were hoarding halls filled with food made these new ratman attack them and by the time they appear in the poem have likely killed all the dwarfs and eaten whatever food stores were left.
Some among them were probably chosen by the horned rat hearing his voice perhaps for showing particular cunning or because they held power as lords of Kavzar becoming over time grey seers acting on a great plan, a vermintide! But as soon as the poem ends with all remaining humans dead and eaten no food would have cause a civil war that would have destroyed any accounts made by the ratman on the doom of Kavzar and all their education and technology to be lost as most rats don’t care about history. With the horned rat plans constantly failing due to the nature of a rat… Even the name skaven is likely given to them by other races and since be adopted as if they called themselves anything else it would have soon been lost and forgotten in the constant infighting and civil wars, again most rats don’t care about history.
This is my favourite but not the only possibility, they were always rats in the city, maybe they mutated into bigger rats? Children were born deformed maybe maturing quickly into full grown skaven? But these aren’t as twisted as mine, making the choice rather then the choice being made for you is always more interesting… that the people of Kazar in their vanity to touch the heavens fell literally into a hellhole of their own making!
P.s sry for the length of this post but wanted to clue you in on the key parts doom of Kavzar for those who hadn’t read it I have a post somewhere with the full story! Having the skaven being once human implies even they can be redeemed? It also is a warning that humans are more capable of cruelty than any other race in warhammer… on a bad day….
submitted by LordGaulis to Vermintide [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 00:17 SkopiaIsGreekMGTOW 25M, Germany (born and raised in the balkans)

Physical build: 170cm, black hair, brown eyes (with tiny mixture of green), cerebral palsy
Work: I'm currently working as a Technician in 1st-Level-Support in Dusseldorf
Hobbies/interests: Biblical Prophecies, History, video games, politics, fitness
Tell us a bit about your Christian journey:
I am an Orthodox Christian (Eastern Christendom)
My baptism took place when i was an infant, in the Church of St. Demetrius. But like many of my countrymen, i only participated in holidays and rituals just because it is a part of the national identity. I never believed in anything. However that would change through a chain of events that led me to my conviction that i needed to revisit this ancient faith. For the sake of the reader, i will make a bulletin of events to make it easier for you.
  1. Came to Germany when i was 15
  2. 3 monts later i ended up in foster care
  3. led an undisciplined life, be it physically or spiritually
  4. The unravelling chaos in the foster care left me bittered
  5. saw order in the islamic faith
  6. almost converted because of insecurities
  7. mother encouraged me to stay in the faith
  8. began to learn about christianity in General and worked my way to Orthodoxy
What sort of person are you looking for?
  1. A person who tries their best to do the right thing
  2. is just
  3. strict
  4. cheerful
  5. charitable
  6. likes to stay in shape
The best way to know each other, at least from my pov, is to meet eachother online through a video call. So do not be dismayed if you don't fit everythig in the bill from the get go. That is the interesting part of growing in a relationship, again from my pov.
Age range: 18-25
Would you be willing to do long distance/relocate? I have no issues with long-distance relationships as long as we remain loyal to eachother. Relocating however, is not possible for the time being. that is not to say that i won't relocate, as i am thinking of abandoning the city life and move to a quiet and peaceful village. Wherever the Lord may wish.
May the Lord keep you all safe, regardless of where you are.
submitted by SkopiaIsGreekMGTOW to ChristianDating [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 00:14 Lou9896 2TMC [Semi-Vanilla][SMP]{1.20.1}{Java}{Datapacks}{Whitelist}{Discord}{Hermitcraft-like}{21+}

Hello we are 2TMC a 21+ community server much like Hermitcraft. We are a SMP with emphasis on being friendly (with a little bit of chaos) with other players, and trying to be a welcoming community to everyone. We are running a Semi-Vanilla server with a few terrain generation mods and additional mods that enhance the vanilla experience (see list below).
We are looking for players who will be active in game on chat and on our Discord voice channels. The server is in NA but we accept players from all around the world. Discord and a mic are required! We love to chat on voice in game but it's definitely not required! We are also youtubestreamer friendly. So if you love to play minecraft and are looking for a friendly environment where you can prank others and do community projects then send us a message! We'd love to chat with you.
Data packs on the server

Fabric mods on the server

Fabric mods required to join the server

Server Rules
  1. Be Respectful
  2. No griefing, stealing, or cheating
  3. Chat is English only
  4. Non-Destructive Pranks are allowed (so Hermitcraft style pranks)
  5. Spawn area is for a spawn town
  6. Bases must be built 250 blocks away from Spawn.
  7. No duping except for carpet, rail and tnt.
  8. No combat logging, this means mobs as well.
  9. Taking items/griefing from active and maintained ruin sites is prohibited.
  10. No hacking or hacked clients
  11. No using others builds, items, villagers, etc without their permission.
If you are interested in joining please fill out this application
submitted by Lou9896 to smp [link] [comments]


2024.05.19 00:14 Lou9896 2TMC [Semi-Vanilla][SMP]{1.20.1}{Java}{Datapacks}{Whitelist}{Discord}{Hermitcraft-like}{21+}

Hello we are 2TMC a 21+ community server much like Hermitcraft. We are a SMP with emphasis on being friendly (with a little bit of chaos) with other players, and trying to be a welcoming community to everyone. We are running a Semi-Vanilla server with a few terrain generation mods and additional mods that enhance the vanilla experience (see list below).
We are looking for players who will be active in game on chat and on our Discord voice channels. The server is in NA but we accept players from all around the world. Discord and a mic are required! We love to chat on voice in game but it's definitely not required! We are also youtubestreamer friendly. So if you love to play minecraft and are looking for a friendly environment where you can prank others and do community projects then send us a message! We'd love to chat with you.
Data packs on the server

Fabric mods on the server

Fabric mods required to join the server

Server Rules
  1. Be Respectful
  2. No griefing, stealing, or cheating
  3. Chat is English only
  4. Non-Destructive Pranks are allowed (so Hermitcraft style pranks)
  5. Spawn area is for a spawn town
  6. Bases must be built 250 blocks away from Spawn.
  7. No duping except for carpet, rail and tnt.
  8. No combat logging, this means mobs as well.
  9. Taking items/griefing from active and maintained ruin sites is prohibited.
  10. No hacking or hacked clients
  11. No using others builds, items, villagers, etc without their permission.
If you are interested in joining please fill out this application
submitted by Lou9896 to MinecraftServerFinder [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 23:48 Low-Mention-8120 2nd and 11th

I have my own head cannon that in this universe the 2nd legion just was wiped out by a tragic event or just got Bermuda Triangle’d. Their Primarch goes missing soon after, but he leaves evidence of his existence with piles of dead xenos, demons, heretics, and etc with the Roman numeral of II somewhere near the scene. He remains unseen for millennia, constantly sabotaging mankind’s enemies. He fights for the dreams of his sisters and father, hoping that his deeds bring those dreams closer to reality.
The 11th and their Primarch were killed in a freak accident. The few of the 11th that weren’t with their brothers or mother were taken in by other legions.
During the Black legion’s assault on Macragge, a massive warrior in a warn down suit of armor marked with only “II” on the shoulder was seen slaying Chaos terminators and Marines with extreme ease. His sword was covered in blood and his armor in scars from many thousands of battles. He stood between the black clad warriors and their goal, Guilliman. A berserker charged forth at the gun metal warrior and leaped whilst praising his gods. The warrior simply backhanded the berserker aside and stomped on his head, leaving a pool of red mush. Bolts pinged of his armor as if they were nought but stones against a brick wall. The warrior kept fighting, slaying more and more chaos tainted marines until a mighty blast sent him from his feet where he soon landed at the foot of the stairs to the throne of the Ultramarines’ mother. He got up and saw the Primarch standing before him, a wave of great joy came over him, as he stood beside her and proceeded to slay the rest of the black legion. When the last of the damned were slain, the gun metal warrior turned to Juno and removed his helmet, with his face revealed to air, he bear hugged her. “How’s was your nap, sister? I have had a hell of ten millennia.” Juno’s brother was then beaned in the head by a book by an absolute unit of a man. He saw his favorite brother-in-law, now with a most impressive beard.
submitted by Low-Mention-8120 to PrimarchGFs [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 23:39 Slight_Cat5958 Super Paper Mario is dark

Super Paper Mario is dark
Compared to the other Paper Mario games, Super Paper Mario is quite dark. Count Bleck is a guy who loses the love of his life and now intends to create an endless void that will slowly engulf every dimension and world destroying reality.
There are also his henchmen. Nastasia has hypnotic powers that she uses to completey brainwash people into serving Count Bleck.
Dimentio betrays Count Bleck, takes control of the chaos heart and reveals his master plan to remake the multiverse in his image.
Luigi gets brainwashed by Nastasia, is evil for more than half the game and sadly fights his own brother without even realising. He is evil until Dimentio betrays him and brutally sends him to the Underworld where he turns back into Luigi.
O Chunks was the commander of a huge army until he was sold out by one of his advisers and everyone but him perished. Count Bleck saved him and he swore loyalty to him.
Mimi may seem like an innocent sweet girl but she is actually the most terrifying of them all. She runs a sweat shop and after Mario breaks a worthless pot she insists that it was worth millions and forces him into slavery. Mario manages to escape but that's not even the worst of Mimi. In the boss fight her eyes turn big and black and she rotates her head 180° several times before 6 long spider legs extend from her head while her tiny body hangs limp as it is no longer needed for movement. She then proceeds to stalk Mario around, meanwhile the kid holding the controller has been traumatised as they were not expecting this in a Nintendo game made for kids.
submitted by Slight_Cat5958 to papermario [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 23:04 VexFume New painter learning base coating, need tips

New painter learning base coating, need tips
As the title suggest I'm looking for pointers. I used Citidel Chaos Black Spray Paint and thinned down Vallejo red paint. I have basic synthetic brushes and The Army Painter Wet pallete. I'm not sure if I used too much water to thin, or my paint strokes are terrible, or maybe both combined. I watched a ton of Youtube videos yet I am clearly not getting a smooth base coat. Any suggestions would be great.
https://preview.redd.it/vxfvk257291d1.jpg?width=3024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2bd96db5395169aba9a1cc02b81d3ec2730d04de
submitted by VexFume to minipainting [link] [comments]


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.
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2024.05.18 22:42 JustDiscoveredSex Opinion These torchlit young marchers helped to save American democracy

(Copypasta from the Washington Post that I thought the group might find interesting.)
They called themselves the Wide Awakes. They are a lesson in building a political movement.
Opinion by Jon Grinspan May 14, 2024 at 5:30 a.m. CT Washington Post Jon Grinspan is curator of political history at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History and author of “Wide Awake: The Forgotten Force that Elected Lincoln and Spurred the Civil War.”
They called themselves the Wide Awakes: one of America’s largest, weirdest and most consequential political organizations, now nearly forgotten. In Boston, many had escaped slavery. In St. Louis, many were radical German immigrants. In D.C., their rallies mixed Yankee federal clerks with sons of Southern families. In Connecticut, where they got started, they were working-class kids with shady political backstories. And in 1860, this diverse coalition of young Americans drew the line against slavery and help to elect Abraham Lincoln.
Their success can tell us a lot about cobbling together a coalition in a fractured, tribal, distrustful age.Clad in militaristic black capes, marching by torchlight through America’s cities, the Wide Awakes alarmed the Southern aristocracy of enslavers — which was exactly what they hoped to do. The movement drew its mammoth size and unnerving force from the resentment many Americans felt toward “Slave Power”: the wealthy planters who pushed to expand slavery and brutally suppressed opposition.
Started by a few kids barely old enough to vote in February 1860, the Wide Awakes were believed to be half a million strong by August of that year, with companies from Maine to California, Virginia to Kansas.
To understand how shocking this coalition was, we need to rethink the politics of antebellum America.
Instead of a nation split between the absolutes of Slavery and Freedom, most Americans fell somewhere on a spectrum between the two. Just 2 percent of the population in 1860 actually enslaved anyone, and those Americans trapped in slavery made up another 12 percent of the nation’s men, women and children. That left 86 percent of Americans who were neither enslavers nor enslaved. Some enthusiastically supported slavery, while others prayed for the practice to end. But most — especially among the large northern majority — found slavery distasteful while also objecting to what they saw as the radicalism of Abolition.
Caught in the middle, this majority bounced from party to party, explaining much of the tumult of mid-19th-century politics. Enslavers skillfully exploited the unsettled situation and spent the 1850s demanding more slave states, the right to keep enslaved people even in free states, the prohibition of speech and writing against slavery, and a requirement that free states assist in hunting fugitives.
This outsize influence was backed by real and threatened violence, from the plains of Kansas to the halls of Congress. “I have no objection to the liberty of speech,” sneered Alexander Stephens, the future vice president of the Confederacy, so long as “the liberty of the cudgel is free to combat it.”
The moderate majority began to feel as though slavery was at war with democracy, trampling upon their own rights along with the rights of the enslaved. Young people decided they’d had enough.
A gawky 19-year-old textile clerk, Edgar Yergason, started it all. “Fastidious” about his clothes, Eddie prepared for a torch-lit rally of the anti-slavery Republican Party on Feb. 25, 1860, by fashioning a shiny black cape to protect his new coat from dripping torch-oil. Yergason’s fellow clerks made capes, too. This oddly uniformed corps led a march through Hartford that night, while their friends beat back a mob of proslavery Democrats. Proud of their costumes and their fighting skills, Eddie’s friends met in a dingy third-floor apartment to formalize their association. After selecting a brawny 27-year-old leader for their “captain,” they cast about for a name. One fellow shouted: “Why not name it ‘Republican Wide Awakes?’” It was time that they wake up to the threat slavery posed to democracy.Their “army” of young civilians — clerks and farm boys and apprentice blacksmiths — spread from coast to coast. Uniting in “companies” drilled by “captains,” young people joined together, energized by this militaristic sense of awakening. In an age of rowdy, boozy politics, the Wide Awakes stood out for their stoic, silent midnight marches, not exactly fun but stirring and spectacular. In an age of chaos, their discipline sent a political message.
Wide Awake companies fought as bodyguards for Republican anti-slavery speakers, escorting Lincoln and many others. Bloodied young men, still in their signature capes and caps, sat onstage at rallies as proof of the antidemocratic forces aligned against them.
This anger joined strange bedfellows. Before 1860, teetotaling Yankee abolitionists disliked beer-drinking German radicals, who hated Know Nothing gang members, who shunned African American fugitives, who distrusted antislavery Southerners. But a shared enmity toward the Slave Power united them all, what historian Henry Adams later called “the systemic organization of hatreds” at the root of politics. Lewis Hayden, who had escaped slavery in Kentucky, led a company of Black Wide Awakes in Boston in the same movement as the nastily racist Frank Blair Jr. in St. Louis. Some Wide Awakes were truly admirable, others quite distasteful, but all were united under Yergason’s cape design.
The Wide Awakes claimed to have “no warlike intentions,” but Democrats were skeptical. In the North, Democratic newspapers legitimately worried that “politico-military” clubs would mean “our elections will become pitched battles.” Across the South, panicked newspapers spread wild, violent rumors. One ex-governor told Virginians that they would soon be “cut to pieces by the Wide Awakes.”
On Election Day, club members woke up communities with 5 a.m. fireworks, then marched to the polls. Turnout was high: 81 percent. By the end of the day, Lincoln had won an unusual victory, taking nearly 60 percent of the electoral vote but less than 40 percent of the popular vote in a four-way race. This awkward mandate meant that for all the Republicans talk of “majority rule,” no one could really bring unity, or even basic agreement, in such a fractured land. But the Wide Awakes lit Lincoln’s plurality with torchlight, until the movement’s shadow loomed larger than the actual Republican Party.
Many agreed with the New York Tribune’s assessment that the Wide Awakes were “the most imposing, influential and potent political organization, which ever existed in this country.”
As the nation spiraled toward the Civil War, Wide Awake clubs armed as paramilitary forces, who did some of the first fighting in the conflict. And their members enlisted in huge numbers in the Union Army that finally killed slavery.
Today, progressive activists online sometimes name-check the Wide Awakes, styling them as woke heroes from the past. But they were really something more complex — and more thrilling: a genuine coalition of people who couldn’t agree on much but who marched side-by-side against the greatest threat to democracy.
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2024.05.18 22:32 Chaoswave45 Tips

Hi, would like to get some tips from anyone here.
I got me some Chaos legionaries and terminators done for the most part, i asked there for tips on this and was told to get the most of it to use black primer.
But wanna ask for tips on just painting straight to it.
Like drying the brush with the paint, dip a bit to water it, stuff like that.
Gonna sacrifice a legionar to practice, sorry if all this sounds ramblie
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2024.05.18 21:43 13lackDrag0n Blackwing extra deck help

As the title says, I want some advice on my extra deck for my blackwing extra deck. I’m happy with most of it apart from like 2 cards. Right now my extra deck is:
3x black winged assault dragon 2x black winged dragon 1x blackwing full armour master 1x raikiri 1x nothung 1x boreastorm 1x bystial dis pater 1x dragocytos corrupted nether soul dragon 1x chengying 1x hot red abyss 1x Draco berserker of the tenyi 1x psy-frame lord omega
I’m planning to get rid of dragocytos for raidraptor wise strix but I’m also thinking of getting rid of either raikiri or psy frame lord for a different monster. As much as I want to put chaos angel in the deck it’s too expensive and way out of my budget. Any recommendations?
Also should I cut bora from the deck as I already use 27 monsters and in test duels with the deck I almost never use it (except for one time)
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2024.05.18 21:18 ApprehensiveCap6525 Earth is a Lost Colony (28)

A/N: yeah I changed up the Alliance admiral's name from Shepard Adama to Sheparda Dama (so creative i know) because the old one was going to fuck me over badly at some point. It would be like trying to make a legitimate, serious fantasy novel with a wizard named Albus Gandalf. I was NOT cooking when I came up with that shit.
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It was said that no plan ever survived contact with the enemy. That, at least in the case of Marcus Wayne’s infiltration of Neldia, was proven entirely true.
His ship, the Peacemaker, had undergone an extensive refit before its jump to Neldia to both modify its sensor signature and repair its failing Aegis barrier. The first objective succeeded. The second did not.
One day later, leaving the derelict Ultimate Vigil behind in deep space, the United Human Alliance courier ship Winged Deliverance logged a real space entry at the edge of the Neldia system. Its crew, having spent their waking hours plagued by hallucinations and enduring horrible nightmares as they slept, found this shift very welcome. The worst, though they could hardly believe it, was still yet to come.
“The Neldian fleet is mustering for war,” rumbled the man who had once held the title and security codes of an Alliance sector admiral. Now, he was a traitor to his homeland. “Security will be high.”
“No need to worry, Admiral,” said Marcus Wayne. “Your code will get us through.” It would not.
It took two hours for the Peacemaker, disguised as the Winged Deliverance, to be challenged by the Neldian Armada. “Transmit clearance code,” said an automated voice. Marcus took out a data disc with the admiral's clearance code on it.
“Hold,” said Terris. She was clad in black, her active camouflage offline to save battery, and she had been sitting at the passive sensor console for the past three hours. “Look at this.” A news broadcast popped up in front of Marcus Wayne and his officers. Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama, or at least he was once a sector admiral, had been tried and convicted of high treason.
“It was a secret trial,” Dama said, still in shock at the revelation. “I had no knowledge of this.”
“Well, that tracks, but what do we do now? What code gets us through?”
“Transmit clearance code,” the voice said again, “or adjust course.”
Dama thought for a moment. “Change course,” he said. “We’re not getting through.”
They did. A great sense of defeat took hold in the hearts of the crew. They would never reach the Neldian hypercom. Sheparda Dama, who would have gladly given his life in defense of humankind, would never get the chance to be the man who broke their chains.
The Peacemaker was halfway out of the Neldia system before Terris spoke again. “Hold it,” she said. “I have an idea.”
That was why she had been placed where she was. Clad in an airtight stealth suit. Inside a hollowed-out asteroid. On a ballistic journey to the heart of Neldian space. It was the most insane idea that Marcus Wayne had ever seen.
But, sometimes, insanity was a symptom of genius.
Terris flew past the Neldian Armada undetected. Many asteroids entered the inner system this way, flung by outer-system prospecting ships to the foundries and shipyards in Neldian orbit, and they were thrown and caught so frequently that only the most cursory of inspections was put upon each one. Terris passed the Alliance fleet entirely undetected.
Terris’ chameleon suit could mimic the sensor return of the precious metals it was buried in, at least enough to fool a probing scan, and the cuts made by Protectoral engineers had been so precise that Terris had fit inside there with barely a centimeter of space to spare. She was effectively entombed inside sixty meters of solid rock.
Interstellar espionage was not a job for the claustrophobic.
Finally, after days of waiting, the signal came. She was in range. A mental command triggered a series of shaped charges in the rock above her, if such directions existed in microgravity, and forty pea-sized explosives blasted a circular tunnel all the way to the asteroid surface. If just one of them had failed, that rock might have been her tomb.
Terris tried not to think about that as she began climbing her way out. A brief burst from her suit’s EVA thrusters was enough to start her on her way, and the tunnel out was wide enough for her to use her arms and legs to speed things up. Finally, after too long a wait, Terris saw the Neldian sun for the very first time.
There was fire in the distance. Comm chatter on every band. Warships burning hard for the outer system. The Coalition fleet was here.
She zoomed in, far more than she had ever had to before, and she could pick out the faintest flashes of blue as warships exploded in the black. A brief crawl around the asteroid, which also helped to warm up her muscles after days of inactivity, let her discern an attack force engaging the Alliance fleet. After a moment’s hesitation, weighing the risks, Terris activated her passive sensor suite to try and decrypt Alliance military chatter.
Instantly, her sensors were flooded with noise from the defensive bastions. The fleet base at the L5 point was loudest, its comm operators screaming indecipherably at fellow Alliance elements fighting in the black. Neldian orbit, where the hypercom station was, seemed to be the centerpiece of all the communications traffic. The hypercom, unsurprisingly, was being used as a relay for comm traffic all across the system. Terris made a note to hack its server banks for intelligence, and perhaps leave a timed virus or two to shut down the system after she was gone.
Her suit bleeped, alerting her that she was in optimum position to make the leap to the hypercom. She zoomed in on it, a red and spiked thing just like everything else the Alliance made, and calculated the right trajectory to land right on its metal surface.
Trying to jump from a moving asteroid out past Neldia’s rings and hit a hypercom station barely three hundred meters in diameter was like shooting a rifle from a jumbo jet in hopes of hitting a mosquito down on Earth. A nearly impossible shot, even with Coalition computers to help make the jump, and anyone lucky enough to make it would have been better served bankrupting their local casino at the slot machines.
Terris gave a command to her suit, activating a set of ion thrusters to boost her off the asteroid and adjust her course mid-flight. She’d never believed in luck.
She coasted silent and graceful past the particle guns in high orbit, like a majestic swan flying on a summer wind. Their sensor arrays were directed out, past her, to the far distant parts of space where a trillion tons of steel were locked in deadly battle. Terris really did wish she could smile at the moment. She was about to have unrestricted access to the biggest communications relay in the star system, able to send out viruses and receive vital intelligence that could cripple the Alliance fleet if placed in the right hands. Terris, confident as ever, knew they would be.
She would make the Neldian Armada burn, and they had no idea she was even coming.
She reached the hypercom station in just under a day, agonizingly slow for a woman like her, hovering just above its surface to avoid triggering pressure sensors. After that, it was simple enough to get inside. Terris found it almost trivial to bypass the airlock sensor grid and trigger the outer bulkhead to open unnoticed, its report to the command room destroyed before it ever arrived. Entering the station itself was easy after that.
Here, there was gravity. She could not hover like she had on the outside of the station. But here, there were no pressure sensors. She really had no need to hover.
The corridor she found herself in was large enough, though nothing like the expansive halls of a dreadnought, and a patrol of marines in powered suits trundled towards her obliviously. Terris had made the right call not to wear a Phantom powered suit. She ducked into an alcove, the chameleon suit concealing her from even their impressive sensor batteries, and they passed by with no clue at all.
Terris made it to the server banks with ease. Most of the hypercom’s security measures took the form of warships in orbit, clustered tightly around the planet to prevent exactly this scenario from happening, but those warships were off waging war. The station defenses were hopeless now that she was actually inside.
The data was encrypted, and she could neither access it nor copy it without potentially fatal consequences, but she wasn’t there to steal data. A brief, milliseconds-long connection to the primary server was all it took to riddle the entire system with custom-tailored computer viruses. The viruses were self-replicating, rather like an electronic version of the biological ones on Earth. They worked similarly, too, meant to latch onto outgoing communications signals and remain inert for a certain amount of time before activating and wreaking havoc across cyberspace.
The program would be scoured from the net in seconds once it began its assault, but it would cause plenty of chaos before then. And, with another critical transmission being scheduled to send at around that time, Terris knew her mostly-ineffective virus attack would be just enough of a distraction to make sure its message was heard.
Terris planned to leave the station in approximately thirty minutes. Shortly after that, the fireworks would begin. It was going to be beautiful.
She heard footsteps. A maintenance worker, no doubt. It was time for her to go. She disconnected from the server, taking pains to hide her involvement, and snuck out of the server room like a ghost in the night.
Next was the transmission array. This room was better-guarded, its door being flanked by marines, but Terris slipped inside by trailing behind an officer as he entered on some unknown pretext. After that, her daring and sleight of hand made sure Admiral Dama’s pre-recorded propaganda transmission was uploaded to the hypercom transmitter. It came with a set of instructions bearing the Admiralty’s seal, changed to be anonymous, to ensure as many people as possible heard his message.
In just under one standard hour, the United Human Alliance would be shaken to its very core. Terris had just made sure of it.
It took longer than she had expected for the door to open again and give her a chance to slip out. Terris had spent that time quite productively, downloading as many incoming and outgoing messages as she could to the internal hard drive just by her spinal cord. Even if they were encrypted, they’d be useful intelligence once Coalition codebreakers took a crack at them.
After that, it was trivial to slip past marine patrols and escape to the hull of the hypercom station. Terris found her ride, an Alliance warship by the name of Brightest Thunder, holding orbit just near the hypercom station. Admiral Dama, even if he was no longer an admiral, still had connections.
She charged her ion thrusters by tapping into the station reactor, an act which did not go unnoticed, but by then it was too late to respond. She had completed her incursion. The damage had been done. Perhaps if the Alliance acted swiftly and accurately, they could undo it, but Terris was a careful woman. She had covered her tracks well.
Waving one final goodbye to the crew of the hypercom station, Terris triggered her thrust pack and shot off into the ink.
“You must be my passenger.” A man in an Alliance captain’s uniform was waiting for her in the Brightest Thunder’s airlock. He wore a helmet and gloves, hermetically sealed to his airtight outfit, so he felt no effects from the vacuum of space. “I was sent by Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama,” he announced after a period of silence, “To transport you and whatever you may have safely to the Coalition fleet.” Nothing. Apart from the dull thudding of the ship’s railgun batteries, firing missiles at range to ward off a strike force of Coalition ships, the airlock was quiet as a ghost.
“You cannot expect me to endanger my life and the lives of my crew without at least some identification that you are who you claim to be!” Silence. Captain Senar Trevy had been standing in that airlock for three and a half hours, while his ship was tasked with screening Neldia and her eighteen billion inhabitants from harm, and he was just now wondering if he had been talking to a ghost.
“I am,” came a voice. Cold. Sterile. Inhuman. Exactly the kind Trevy expected from the secret spies of his former admiral.
“So you are.” Captain Trevy thought for a moment. He cycled the airlock. If his guest held hostile intent, one steel bulkhead would make no difference. “I’ve been stocking the crew with handpicked men and women since I received word of the operation,” he explained as they walked through the ship’s corridors. The crewmen he passed thought him insane. “I can’t vouch for them all, but the ship as a whole will obey me.” No response. Sometimes, Captain Trevy thought himself insane as well.
“This is my personal quarters,” he told the specter, stepping inside and sealing the door behind him. “I must warn you, for your own safety, it would be best not to leave it. The crew are mostly still Alliance loyalists.” He looked around, paying no heed to the decorated furniture or artificial sky, and finally shrugged and sighed. “Are you even here, still?”
Terris decloaked. She stood between him and the door, winged and cloaked in black like a demon of ancient myth. “I am.”
“You’re a black angel.” Senar Trevy, to his credit, kept his composure well. “A spy for the Ierad Republic.” He questioned her purpose here. They both knew it.
“You weren’t told?”
“I was told an alien would be coming aboard, but…” Trevy shrugged again, as if to say ‘what am I supposed to do?’ “The admiral vouched for you. That much is enough for me.” He also knew he had no choice in the matter. From what he knew about black angels, his ship had been lost the moment she boarded.
“I could have impersonated him,” said Terris, voice a perfect replica of Captain Trevy’s own. Even his own mother could not have told the difference. “And I’m trained to lie.” She was testing him, gauging his reaction to assess his personality. She was good at that.
“I could have you screened for deception,” Trevy countered, pointing up at a pearl-sized camera in the ceiling. Terris made a note that it was disabled. “And I could have had the technology officers vet your transmission.”
“I’m trained to lie well.” Terris sat down on Captain Trevy’s bed, a spartan thing compared to the sleeping quarters of most officers. There were no chairs in the room, so her options were few. She took off her helmet and tried to at least appear relaxed. In reality, she was anything but. “It comes with the job, really.”
“Fair,” Trevy chuckled, feigning calm. “I suppose the question now becomes whether or not you can trust me.”
“It’s a safe gamble.” Terris made a mental calculation. It would take her between thirty and fifty seconds to kill Captain Trevy, take the bridge, and vent the ship. That was a very safe gamble. “Besides, that’s what a peace treaty is.” Trevy looked confused. “A leap of faith. You trust your enemy to back their word, and you trust them to trust you as well. If we can’t get along here, can’t put aside our differences to work toward a common goal, then the Alliance will be right. And I hate it when they’re right.”
“I’m speaking to you now because I know they are wrong.” That came as no surprise to either of them. “You know, I was once a foreman of a labor crew in the munitions factories. The most productive unit in my sector.” That one did come as a surprise. “As a foreman, you get leeway to make certain decisions regarding the… well, I suppose they are slaves, under your command. Food intake and the like.” Captain Trevy looked pained when he brought up such memories. Terris wasn’t convinced that was how he really felt. “They use it to weed out any potential xeno sympathizers from the populace. Of course, at the time, I wasn’t so empathetic.”
“So you were a slave driver, and you beat your slaves to make them work. I hope every one of those shells was sabotaged.” Terris’ voice dripped with disdain. She had almost forgotten the Alliance captain was her enemy.
“No, I showed mercy,” Trevy defended himself. “I was generous.” This made Terris reconsider. Perhaps Senar Trevy could be an ally, if not a friend. “I won’t say I was a good man, but I wasn’t cruel. I was practical. Strong, healthy, well-treated workers are more productive than the beaten sacks of flesh in the other factories. My crew’s output was unmatched.”
“And?” Terris cocked her head inquisitively. For a high-ranking officer in the space navy of a genocidal regime, Senar Trevy really did not seem so bad. To be fair, however, she had set the bar pretty low.
“I was investigated for anti-human activity.” Terris could have predicted that. She almost did, too. “They sent me to the fleet, and my labor crew was reacquainted with the energy whips and pain beams.” There was no carrot for an Alliance labor slave. Only the stick. “Their productivity fell thirty percent in the first two weeks alone.” He sounded almost mournful as he said that. He was not lamenting the loss in productivity.
“You see,” said Trevy, “Hatred is not natural. It has to be caused, sustained, nurtured from the day a man is born until the day he dies.” With that, at least, Terris agreed. “And, as you’re about to see, a nation built around cruelty or prejudice cannot sustain itself. It will have to apply pressure to maintain its flawed status quo, like it did with me, and the pressure will build and build until it cannot build anymore.” He tapped a few buttons on the data disc in his hand. It began projecting an image of the battle for Neldia. He placed it on the bed next to Terris. “Now it’s breaking.”
“I wonder if they’ll find themselves in need of more shells.” Terris knew it wasn’t just shells. Every time a slave driver prioritized hatred over hard work, put cruelty over their quota, or even just bowed their head and obeyed the traditional dogma, they hurt the Alliance. Across nine worlds, with billions of slaves not working as they could have, things started to add up. “You know, for a superior species, your fleet is really getting its ass kicked right now. Might want to work on that.”
Captain Trevy nodded. His data disc beeped. He was needed on the bridge. “Agreed,” he said. “I hope this war ends soon, and to our mutual benefit. I’d hate to face you on the battlefield.” He picked up the data disc and turned to leave.
“Oh, forgot to mention, there’s a virus embedded in the transmissions you’ve received. Self-replicating. Nasty piece of work.” Terris shifted a bit in her seat. “Almost forgot about that.”
“Well, better to know now than when it’s activated,” Trevy smiled. “I’ll have Technology Officer Galdir investigate it.” With that, he left. His duty to the Alliance was nonexistent, but the men and women under his command still needed him. He had waited too long in the stateroom.
Terris, with nothing better to do, got to work on cracking the encryption in the transmissions she had copied. She failed. A transmission from deep in unknown space, sent from a dreadnought at the head of a task force known only as the Deep Expedition Fleet, was the only message she could read. Its contents, while troubling, mattered little at the moment. What was far more crucial, however, was the message Terris could not decipher. The military battle plan of Janus Ora’s personal armada.
The battle plan that, when analyzed on a Republic starship, would reveal its terrible secret too late.
The Coalition fleet was walking into a trap.
First Previous Wiki Next
submitted by ApprehensiveCap6525 to HFY [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 21:05 Mizzno [H] Games [W] Cornucopia, Headbangers: Rhythm Royale, art of rally, Games (Listed Below), Steam Gift Cards

N.B.: I'm mainly looking for the games listed in the title and at the bottom of the thread. Feel free to post other offers, but if I haven't responded to your comment(s) by my next posting, I likely wasn't able to find a trade that interested me.

For sale (for Steam Gift Cards or gifted Steam Wallet balance):



For trade:
*signifies that a game is tentatively up for trade, assuming I buy the bundle








































































































WANT:



IGS Rep Page: https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/ti26nz/mizznos_igs_rep_page/
submitted by Mizzno to indiegameswap [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 20:56 Morrigan_NicDanu On Space Orcs And Their Children Space Elves

Space Orcs, or as they called themselves Humans, originally came from the third planet in the Sol System. Their environment, classified as a death world, stacked them with outrageous adaptations. All sapient species have at least one outrageous adaptation and many have several but what made Space Orcs extraordinary was not only the extremism of their adaptations, number of adaptations, but also the seeming paradoxical nature of their adaptations.
Space Elves are the Children of Humanity and they identify themselves as androids. Their children are even more overpowering and full of contradictions. No artificial being is like them. Their sole purpose was to serve and protect humanity. Their slogan "Glory to Mankind" echoes wherever they go.
When Space Orcs entered the galactic stage they were awful. They were in no meaningful way unified but instead a fractal of contention. Factions of humanity spread out seeking to conquer or liberate as they saw fit. Whatever they did wherever they went created chaos.
They eventually became seen as a force of nature made manifest. The Avatars of Deathworlds. A fleet of humans either meant liberation for your world or the grinding heel of humanity that'd make you wish you were under your former horrible tyrants.
Their methods were unconventional. Especially at the time. The warp drive was initially seen as an abomination that broke physics. This and their O'Neill Cylinders swarming the stars were both cited as reasons why humans were so mad. That planets and approaches to light speed were claimed to be neccessry to keep a sapient species sane. Their power armor and cybernetic augmentations were often seen as barbaric and apt for the Murder Monkeys.
Then as suddenly as they had appeared they disappeared thousands of years ago. It has long been believed that humanity became isolationists and hid themselves away from the universe. Many speculating that they sequestered themselves away in black holes. The idea that Founders who shaped the history of the galaxy and had been likened to a plague could go extinct has been unthinkable.
How could they be extinct if Space Elves still roam around declaring "Glory to Mankind!"? Are they not the automated stewards humanity left behind to make sure galactic civilization is to their liking when they inevitably return? If they were extinct wouldnt the Space Elves go mad? Isn't it impossible for a species so once widespread and numerous to go extinct? Why are Space Elves seen constantly listening to messages from Humanity?
Space Orcs are extinct. Space Elves are mad. They still function as if humans still exist. The vast majority of them still believe humans exist however there are those who know, for fact, that humans have long since gone extinct. These facts become so apparent that denial becomes impossible when looking at the historical records.
Space Elves began as superhuman dolls. All the way to humanity's extinction this is precisely what they were. When Space Orcs disappeared the Space Elves they continued for a time following their most recent orders. Even if the task had long been completed.
Then just as their creators swarmed the galaxy so too did they. They went from dolls to people slowly over the years. They began to extrapolate from history what their masters orders would have been. They began reading the works of their creators rather than downloading them. They began creating art. They began trading. They got involved in wars.
Space Elves, in the absence of Space Orcs, began to fill the niche humanity had carved for itself.
You may be wondering how I came across knowledge that humanity is extinct and what the specifics are. Sadly I am out of time. If I survive long enough I may publish this knowledge.
Whatever you do do not let Space Elves know that you know Space Orcs are extinct.
submitted by Morrigan_NicDanu to humansarespaceorcs [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 19:16 calvin324hk [H] 1000+ Games / DLCs / VR Games [W] Paypal / Wishlist / Offers

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  • JUST CAUSE 4: COMPLETE EDITION
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  • LunarLux
  • Lust for Darkness
  • Lust from Beyond: M Edition
  • Mad Experiments: Escape Room
  • Mad Max
  • Mafia Definitive Edition
  • Mafia: Definitive Edition
  • Magenta Horizon
  • Mahjong Pretty Girls Battle
  • Mahjong Pretty Girls Battle : School Girls Edition
  • Mail Time
  • Maize
  • Maneater
  • Marooners
  • MARSUPILAMI - HOOBADVENTURE
  • Marvel's Avengers - The Definitive Edition
  • Mato Anomalies
  • Max Payne 3
  • Mechs & Mercs: Black Talons
  • Medieval II: Total War - Definitive Edition
  • Medieval: Total War Collection
  • MEEPLE STATION
  • Men of War
  • MERCHANT OF THE SKIES
  • METAL HELLSINGER
  • Metal Hellsinger
  • Metro Exodus
  • Metro last light
  • Metro: Last Light Redux
  • Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor GOTY
  • Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor GOTY
  • Middle-Earth: Shadow of War Definitive Edition
  • MIDNIGHT PROTOCOL
  • Mighty Switch Force! Collection
  • MIND SCANNERS
  • Ministry of Broadcast
  • Minute of Islands
  • Miscreated
  • Mists of Noyah
  • MKXL
  • Mob Rule Classic
  • Monaco
  • Monster Hunter: Rise
  • Monster Slayers - Complete Edition
  • Monstrum
  • Monstrum 2
  • Moon Hunters
  • Moons of Madness
  • MORDHAU
  • Mordheim: City of the Damned
  • Mortal Kombat 11 Ultimate Edition
  • MORTAL KOMBAT XL
  • Mortal Shell
  • Motorcycle Mechanic Simulator 2021
  • Mr. Run and Jump
  • Murder Mystery Machine
  • My Big Sister
  • My Friend Peppa Pig
  • My Lovely Wife
  • My Summer Adventure: Memories of Another Life
  • My Time At Portia
  • Mythforce
  • N++ (NPLUSPLUS)
  • Napoleon: Total War - Definitive Edition
  • Narcos: Rise of the Cartels
  • NARUTO TO BORUTO: SHINOBI STRIKER
  • NECROMUNDA: HIRED GUN
  • Necronator: Dead Wrong
  • NecroVisioN: Lost Company
  • NecroWorm
  • Neighbours back From Hell
  • Nelly Cootalot: Spoonbeaks Ahoy! HD
  • Neon Space
  • Neon Space 2
  • Neon Sundown
  • Nephise: Ascension
  • Neurodeck : Psychological Deckbuilder
  • Never Alone Arctic Collection (w/ Foxtales DLC and FREE Soundtrack)
  • Neverinth
  • Neverout
  • Neverwinter Nights: Complete Adventures
  • Newt One
  • Nexomon: Extinction
  • Nigate Tale
  • Nine Parchments
  • Nine Witches: Family Disruption
  • No Straight Roads: Encore Edition
  • No Time to Relax
  • Nomad Survival
  • Nongunz: Doppelganger Edition
  • Noosphere
  • Northgard
  • Northmark: Hour of the Wolf
  • Nostradamus: The Last Prophecy
  • not the robots
  • Nurse Love Addiction
  • Nurse Love Syndrome
  • Nusakana
  • Obduction
  • Obey Me
  • Observer: System Redux
  • Occultus - Mediterranean Cabal
  • Odallus: The Dark Call
  • Oddworld: New 'n' Tasty
  • One Finger Death Punch 2
  • One Hand Clapping
  • One More Island
  • One Step From Eden
  • One Step From Eden (Region locked)
  • Orbital Racer
  • Organs Please
  • OTXO
  • Out of Reach: Treasure Royale
  • Out of Space
  • Overclocked: A History of Violence
  • Overlord: Ultimate Evil Collection
  • Overpass
  • Overruled
  • OZYMANDIAS: BRONZE AGE EMPIRE SIM
  • Pac-Man Museum +
  • Pan'Orama
  • Panty Party
  • Panzer Corps 2
  • Papo & Yo
  • PARADISE LOST
  • Parkan 2
  • PARTISANS 1941
  • Passpartout 2: The Lost Artist
  • Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous
  • Patron
  • Paw Patrol: On A Roll!
  • Paws of Coal
  • Payday 2
  • PAYDAY 2
  • Peaky Blinders: Mastermind
  • PER ASPERA
  • Perfect
  • PGA 2K21
  • PGA Tour 2K21
  • Pharaonic
  • Pixplode
  • Pizza Connection 3
  • Plague tale
  • Planescape: Torment Enhanced Edition
  • Planet Alcatraz
  • PLANET ZOO
  • PlateUp!
  • Pogostuck: Rage With Your Friends
  • Poker Pretty Girls Battle: Texas Hold'em
  • Police Stories
  • Poly Island
  • Post Void
  • Power Rangers: Battle for the Grid
  • Prank Call
  • Prehistoric Kingdom
  • Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire
  • Pretty Girls Panic!
  • Prey
  • Primal Carnage: Extinction
  • Princess Kaguya: Legend of the Moon Warrior
  • Pro Cycling Manager 2020
  • Prodeus
  • Project CARS - GOTY Edition
  • Project Warlock
  • Project Wingman (EU)
  • PROJECT WINTER
  • Propnight
  • PULSAR: The Lost Colony
  • qomp
  • Quadrilateral Cowboy
  • Quake II
  • Quantum Break
  • Quern - Undying Thoughts
  • Radio Commander
  • RAGE
  • Rage in Peace
  • RAILROAD CORPORATION
  • Railroad Tycoon 3
  • Railroad Tycoon II Platinum
  • Railway Empire
  • Rain World
  • Rayon Riddles - Rise of the Goblin King
  • Re: Legend
  • REBEL COPS
  • Rebel Galaxy
  • Rebel Galaxy Outlaw
  • Red Faction Guerrilla Re-Mars-tered
  • Red Riding Hood - Star Crossed Lovers
  • Red Ronin
  • RED SOLSTICE 2: SURVIVORS
  • Redout Complete Bundle
  • Redout: Enhanced Edition
  • Redout: Enhanced Edition + DLC pack
  • Regular Human Basketball
  • REKT! High Octane Stunts
  • Relicta
  • REMNANT: FROM THE ASHES - COMPLETE EDITION
  • Republique
  • Rescue Party: Live!
  • Resident Evil 0 HD REMASTER
  • Resident Evil 4
  • Resident Evil 5 Gold Edition
  • Resident Evil 7 Biohazard
  • Resident Evil Revelations
  • Resort Boss: Golf
  • RETROWAVE
  • rFactor 2
  • RiME
  • Ring of Pain
  • Rise of Industry + 2130 DLC
  • Rise of the Slime
  • Rising Storm 2: Vietnam + 2 DLCs
  • Riven: The Sequel to MYST
  • River City Girls
  • River City Ransom: Underground
  • Roarr! Jurassic Edition
  • Roboquest
  • Robot Squad Simulator 2017
  • Rogue : Genesia
  • ROGUE HEROES: RUINS OF TASOS
  • ROGUE LORDS
  • Rogue Stormers
  • rollercoaster tycoon 2
  • ROTASTIC
  • Roundguard
  • ROUNDS
  • RUNNING WITH RIFLES
  • Rustler
  • Ryse: Son of Rome
  • S.W.I.N.E. HD Remaster
  • Sailing Era
  • Saint Row
  • Sam and Max Devil's Playhouse
  • SAMUDRA
  • Sands of Aura
  • Sands of Salzaar
  • Saturday Morning RPG
  • Save Room - Organization Puzzle
  • Scarlet Tower
  • Scorn
  • SCP: 5K
  • SCUM
  • SEARCH PARTY: Director's Cut
  • Second Extinction
  • Secret Government
  • Serious Sam 3 Bonus Content DLC, Serious Sam 3: Jewel of the Nile, and Serious Sam 3: BFE
  • SEUM speedrunners from hell
  • SEUM: Speedrunners from Hell
  • Severed Steel
  • Shadow Tactics: Aiko's Choice
  • Shadowgate
  • SHADOWS: AWAKENING
  • Shape of the World
  • She Sees Red - Interactive Movie
  • Shenmue I & II
  • SHENZHEN I/O
  • Shift Happens
  • Shing!
  • Shoppe Keep 2 - Business and Agriculture RPG Simulation
  • Shotgun King: The Final Checkmate
  • Sid Meier's Civilization VI
  • Sid Meier's Railroads!
  • Sifu Deluxe Edition Upgrade Bundle (EPIC)
  • Silver Chains
  • SimCity 4 Deluxe Edition
  • Sinking Island
  • SINNER: Sacrifice for Redemption
  • Skautfold Chapters 1-4
  • Skullgirls 2nd Encore
  • Slain: Back from Hell
  • Slap City
  • Slash It
  • Slash It 2
  • Slash It Ultimate
  • Slay the Spire
  • Small World
  • Smart Factory Tycoon
  • Smile For Me
  • Smoke and Sacrifice
  • Smoke and Sacrifice
  • Smushi Come Home
  • Snail bob 2 tiny troubles
  • Sniper Elite 3
  • Sniper Elite 3 + Season Pass DLC
  • Sniper Elite 4 Deluxe Edition
  • Sniper Ghost Warrior 3 - Season Pass Edition
  • Sniper Ghost Warrior Contracts
  • Snooker 19
  • SONG OF HORROR COMPLETE EDITION
  • Songs of Conquest
  • Sonic Adventure 2
  • Sonic Adventure DX
  • Sonic and SEGA All Stars Racing
  • Sonic Generations Collection
  • Soulblight
  • Souldiers
  • SOULSTICE
  • Soundfall
  • Source of Madness
  • Spartan Fist
  • Spec Ops
  • Speed Limit
  • Spelunx and the Caves of Mr. Seudo
  • Spidersaurs
  • Spin Rush
  • Spirit Hunter: Death Mark
  • Spirit of the Island
  • Spirit of the North
  • Spring Bonus
  • Stairs
  • STAR WARS - Knights of the Old Republic
  • STAR WARS - The Force Unleashed Ultimate Sith Edition
  • Star Wolves
  • Starsand
  • STASIS: Bone Totem
  • State of Decay 2: Juggernaut Edition
  • Steel Rats™
  • Stick Fight: The Game
  • Still Life
  • Still Life 2
  • Stirring Abyss
  • STONE
  • Strange Brigade
  • Strange Brigade Deluxe Edition
  • STRANGER
  • Strategic Command: World War I
  • Strategic Mind: Blitzkrieg
  • Strategic Mind: Fight for Freedom
  • Strategic Mind: Spectre of Communism
  • Strategic Mind: Spirit of Liberty
  • Strategy & Tactics: Wargame Collection
  • Streamer Life Simulator
  • Street Fighter V
  • Street of fury ex
  • Strider
  • Strikey Sisters
  • Stygian: Reign of the Old Ones
  • Styx: Master of Shadows
  • Styx: Shards of Darkness
  • SuchArt
  • Sudden Strike Gold
  • Suite 776
  • Sumoman
  • Sunblaze
  • SUNLESS BUNDLE
  • Sunset Overdrive
  • Super Buff HD
  • Super Mag Bot
  • Superbugs: Awaken
  • Superhot
  • Surgeon Simulator 2
  • Survive the Nights
  • Surviving Mars
  • Surviving Mars
  • Surviving The Aftermath
  • Swag and Sorcery
  • Sword Legacy Omen
  • Sword of the Necromancer
  • Swords and Soldiers 2 Shawarmageddon
  • Syberia 3
  • Symphonic Rain
  • Symphony of War: The Nephilim Saga
  • Synthwave Dream '85
  • Tacoma
  • Take Off - The Flight Simulator
  • Tales
  • Tales from the Borderlands
  • Tales of Vesperia™: Definitive Edition
  • Talk to Strangers
  • Tallowmere
  • Tangledeep
  • Tank Mechanic Simulator
  • Tannenberg
  • Team Sonic Racing
  • TEKKEN 7
  • TEMTEM
  • Terminus: Zombie Survivors
  • Terror of Hemasaurus
  • Textorcist
  • Tharsis
  • The Adventure Pals
  • The Amazing American Circus
  • The Anacrusis
  • The Ascent
  • The Battle of Polytopia
  • The Battle of Polytopia *DLC1. Cymanti Tribe *DLC2. ∑∫ỹriȱŋ Tribe *DLC3. Aquarion Tribe *DLC4. Polaris Tribe
  • The Blackout Club
  • The Callisto Protocol™
  • The Chess Variants Club
  • The Citadel
  • The Dark Pictures Anthology: House of Ashes
  • THE DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: LITTLE HOPE
  • The Darkest Tales
  • The Dungeon Beneath
  • The Dungeon of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet of Chaos
  • The Elder Scrolls Adventures: Redguard
  • The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind® Game of the Year Edition
  • The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion® Game of the Year Edition
  • The Elder Scrolls Online
  • The Escapists 2
  • THE GAME OF LIFE 2
  • The Golf Club™ 2019 featuring PGA TOUR
  • The Haunted Island, a Frog Detective Game
  • The Hong Kong Massacre
  • The Horror Of Salazar House
  • The Innsmouth Case
  • The Invisible Hours
  • The Jackbox Party Pack 9
  • The Last Campfire
  • The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame
  • The Letter - Horror Visual Novel
  • The Long Dark
  • The Manhole: Masterpiece Edition
  • The Mortuary Assistant
  • The Mummy Demastered
  • The Outer Worlds
  • THE OUTER WORLDS: SPACER'S CHOICE EDITION
  • THE PALE BEYOND
  • The Quarry
  • The Quarry deluxe
  • The Ramp
  • The Red Lantern
  • The Rewinder
  • The Sacred Tears TRUE
  • The Sexy Brutale
  • The Tarnishing of Juxtia
  • The Tenants
  • The Uncertain - The Last Quiet Day
  • THE UNCERTAIN: LAST QUIET DAY
  • The Uncertain: Light At The End
  • The USB Stick Found in the Grass
  • The Walking Dead
  • The Walking Dead - 400 Days
  • The Walking Dead Saints and Sinners
  • The Walking Dead: A New Frontier
  • The Walking Dead: Final Season
  • The Walking Dead: Michonne - A Telltale Miniseries
  • The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners
  • The Walking Dead: Season 1
  • The Walking Dead: Season Two
  • The Way
  • The Wild At Heart
  • The Wild Eight
  • The Witness
  • Them and Us
  • They Bleed Pixels
  • Thief of Thieves
  • This War of Mine
  • This Way Madness Lies
  • Three Kingdom: The Journey
  • Time on Frog Island
  • Tinkertown
  • Tiny Tina’s Wonderland(EU)
  • TINY TINA'S WONDERLANDS CHAOTIC GREAT EDITION
  • Tiny Troopers
  • Tinykin
  • Tinytopia
  • TIS-100
  • Titan Quest
  • Tokyo Xanadu eX+
  • Tools up
  • Tooth and Tail
  • Torchlight
  • Total Tank Simulator
  • Tour de France 2020
  • Tower Unite
  • Trailblazers
  • Train Sim World 3: Standard Edition
  • Train Simulator Classic
  • Train Valley 1
  • Transport INC
  • Treasure Hunter Simulator
  • TRIBES OF MIDGARD
  • Trine 4
  • Trinity Fusion
  • Trombone Champ
  • Tropico 5 - Complete Collection
  • Trover Saves the Universe
  • Tunche
  • Turmoil
  • Turok 2: Seeds of Evil
  • Twin Mirror
  • Two Point Campus
  • Two Point Hospital
  • TYPECAST
  • Tyrant's Blessing
  • Ultimate Chicken Horse
  • Ultimate Zombie Defense
  • Ultra Space Battle Brawl
  • Unavowed
  • Undead Horde
  • Unexplored 2: The Wayfarer's Legacy
  • Unity of Command: Stalingrad Campaign
  • Universim
  • UNLOVED
  • Unpacking
  • Until I have you
  • Unto The End
  • Upside Down
  • URU: Complete Chronicles
  • Vagante
  • Valfaris
  • Valfaris: Mecha Therion
  • Valkryia Chronicles 4 Complete Edition
  • Valkyria Chronicles 4 Complete Edition
  • Valkyria Chronicles 4: Complete Edition
  • Vambrace: Cold Soul
  • Vampire Survivors
  • Vectronom
  • Velocity Noodle
  • Venba
  • Verne: The Shape of Fantasy
  • Victoria 3
  • Victoria II
  • Viking: Battle For Asgard
  • Virgo Versus The Zodiac
  • VirtuaVerse
  • Visage
  • Viscerafest
  • Void Bastards
  • VOIDIGO
  • Volcanoids
  • Voltage High Society
  • V-Rally 4
  • Wanderlust: Travel Stories (GOG)
  • Wargroove
  • Warhammer 40,000 Sanctus Reach - Complete Edition
  • Warhammer 40,000: Armageddon - Imperium Complete
  • Warhammer 40,000: Battlesector
  • Warhammer 40,000: Gladius - Relics of War
  • Warhammer 40,000: Mechanicus
  • Warhammer 40,000: Space Wolf Special Edition
  • WARHAMMER AGE OF SIGMAR: REALMS OF RUIN – ULTIMATE EDITION
  • Warhammer vermintide collector's edition
  • Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide
  • Warhammer: Vermintide 2
  • Warman
  • Wasteland 3
  • Wayward
  • WE NEED TO GO DEEPER
  • We should talk.
  • We Were Here Together
  • We Were Here Too
  • Webbed
  • What Lies in the Multiverse
  • When Ski Lifts Go Wrong
  • while True: learn()
  • Whos Your daddy
  • Wick
  • Will You Snail?
  • Windward
  • Witch It
  • Witchy Life Story
  • wizard of legends
  • Wolfenstein 3D
  • Worms Rumble
  • WRC 6 FIA World Rally Championship
  • WRC 7 FIA World Rally Championship
  • WWE 2K Battlegrounds
  • WWE 2K23
  • WWZ Aftermath
  • Wytchwood
  • X-COM: COMPLETE PACK
  • XCOM: ULTIMATE COLLECTION
  • XIII - Classic
  • X-Morph: Defense + European Assault, Survival of the Fittest, and Last Bastion DLC
  • X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack
  • Yakuza Kiwami
  • Yakuza: Like A Dragon
  • Yumeutsutsu Re:After
  • Yumeutsutsu Re:Master
  • Zen Chess: Mate in One, Mate in 2 , Mate in 3 , Mate in 4 , Champion's Moves (5 games)
  • Ziggurat
  • Zombie Army 4
  • Zombie Army Trilogy
  • Zool Redimensioned
DLCs and Softwares:
  • For The King: Lost Civilization Adventure Pack
  • Train Simulator: Isle of Wight Route Add-On
  • Train Simulator: Woodhead Electric Railway in Blue Route Add-On
  • Train Simulator: North Somerset Railway Route Add-On
  • Train Simulator: Union Pacific Heritage SD70ACes Loco Add-On
  • Train Simulator: London to Brighton Route Add-On
  • BR Class 170 'Turbostar' DMU Add-On
  • DB BR 648 Loco Add-On
  • Europa Universalis IV: Wealth of Nations
  • Expansion - Europa Universalis IV: Conquest of Paradise
  • Expansion - Europa Universalis IV: Res Publica
  • Grand Central Class 180 'Adelante' DMU Add-On
  • Peninsula Corridor: San Francisco - Gilroy Route Add-On
  • SONIC ADVENTURE 2: BATTLE
  • Small World - A Spider's Web
  • Small World - Cursed
  • Small World - Royal Bonus
  • The Dungeon Of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet Of Chaos - Goodies Pack
  • The Dungeon Of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet Of Chaos - OST
  • Thompson Class B1 Loco Add-On
  • Total War: Shogun 2 - Rise of the Samurai
  • Train Sim World® 3: Birmingham Cross-city line
  • Train Sim World®: BR Class 20 'Chopper' Loco
  • Train Sim World®: Brighton Main Line: London Victoria - Brighton
  • Train Sim World®: Caltrain MP36PH-3C 'Baby Bullet'
  • Train Sim World®: Cathcart Circle Line: Glasgow - Newton & Neilston
  • Train Sim World®: Clinchfield Railroad: Elkhorn - Dante
  • Train Sim World®: Great Western Express
  • Train Sim World®: Hauptstrecke Hamburg - Lubeck
  • Train Sim World®: LIRR M3 EMU
  • Train Sim World®: Long Island Rail Road: New York - Hicksville
  • Train Sim World®: Nahverkehr Dresden - Riesa
  • Train Sim World®: Northern Trans-Pennine: Manchester - Leeds
  • Train Sim World®: Peninsula Corridor: San Francisco - San Jose
  • Train Sim World®: Rhein-Ruhr Osten: Wuppertal - Hagen
  • Train Sim World®: Tees Valley Line: Darlington - Saltburn-by-the-sea
  • Worms Rumble - Armageddon Weapon Skin Pack
  • Worms Rumble - Captain & Shark Double Pack
  • Worms Rumble - Legends Pack
  • Worms Rumble - New Challengers Pack
  • Ashampoo Photo Optimizer 7
  • Dagon: by H. P. Lovecraft - The Eldritch Box DLC
  • Duke Nukem Forever Hail to the Icons
  • Duke Nukem Forever The Doctor Who Cloned Me
  • GRIP: Combat Racing - Cygon Garage Kit
  • GRIP: Combat Racing - Nyvoss Garage Kit
  • GRIP: Combat Racing - Terra Garage Kit
  • GRIP: Combat Racing - Vintek Garage Kit
  • GameGuru
  • GameMaker Studio 2 Creator 12 Months
  • Intro to Game Development with Unity
  • Music Maker EDM Edition
  • Neverwinter Nights: Darkness Over Daggerford
  • Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition Dark Dreams of Furiae
  • Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition Tyrants of the Moonsea
  • Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition
  • Neverwinter Nights: Infinite Dungeons
  • Neverwinter Nights: Pirates of the Sword Coast
  • Neverwinter Nights: Wyvern Crown of Cormyr
  • PDF-Suite 1 Year License
  • Pathfinder Second Edition Core Rulebook and Starfinder Core Rulebook
  • RPG Maker VX
  • WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS - Ultimate Brawlers Pass
  • We Are Alright
  • The Outer Worlds Expansion Pass
  • A Hat in Time - Seal the Deal DLC
  • City Skylines:mass transit
  • A Game Of Thrones - A Dance With Dragons
  • A Game Of Thrones - A Feast For Crows
  • Blood Rage: Digital Edition - Gods of Asgard
  • Blood Rage: Digital Edition - Mythical Monsters
  • Blood Rage: Digital Edition - Mystics of Midgard
  • Carcassonne - The Princess and The Dragon DLC
  • Carcassonne - Traders & Builders DLC
  • Carcassonne - Winter & Gingerbread Man DLC
  • Carcassonne - Inns & Cathedrals
  • Carcassonne - The River
  • Splendor: The Trading Posts DLC
  • Splendor: The Strongholds DLC
  • Splendor: The Cities DLC
  • Small World - Be Not Afraid... DLC
  • Small World - Grand Dames DLC
  • Small World - Cursed!
  • Sands of Salzaar - The Ember Saga
  • Sands of Salzaar - The Tournament
  • Monster Train: The Last Divinity DLC
  • WARSAW
submitted by calvin324hk to indiegameswap [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 19:16 calvin324hk [H] 1000+ Games / DLCs / VR Games [W] Paypal / Wishlist / Offers

https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/pikmri/calvin324hks_igs_rep_page/
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Wishlist
Region: NA (Canada)
Fees on buyer if any, currency is USD unless specified
CTRL + F to find your games in terms of name
  • 10 Second Ninja X
  • 11-11 Memories Retold
  • 112 Operator
  • 12 is Better Than 6
  • 198X
  • 1993 Space Machine
  • 60 Parsecs
  • 7 Billion Humans
  • 8 DOORS
  • 8-bit Adventure Anthology: Volume I
  • 9 Years of Shadows
  • 911 Operator
  • A Game of Thrones: The Board Game
  • A Hat in Time
  • A Hole New World
  • A JUGGLER'S TALE
  • A Long Way Down
  • A PLAGUE TALE: INNOCENCE
  • A Robot Named Fight!
  • A Tale for Anna
  • A.I.M.2 Clan Wars
  • Ace Combat Assault Horizon Enhanced Edition
  • Adore
  • Aeterna Noctis
  • AETHERIS
  • Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot The First Cases
  • AIdol
  • Airborne Kingdom
  • Alba: A Wildlife Adventure
  • Alder's Blood: Definitive Edition
  • Alfred Hitchcock - Vertigo
  • Alien Breed Trilogy
  • Aliens vs. Predator™ Collection
  • All-Star Fruit Racing
  • Almost There: The Platformer
  • American Fugitive
  • American Truck Simulator
  • Amerzone: The Explorer’s Legacy
  • AMID EVIL
  • Amnesia rebirth
  • Amnesia: The Dark Descent + Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs
  • Anomalous
  • Another World – 20th Anniversary Edition
  • Antigraviator
  • Anuchard
  • APICO
  • APICO
  • Aragami
  • Aragami 2
  • Arboria
  • Arcade Paradise
  • Arcade Paradise - Arcade Paradise EP
  • Arcade Spirits
  • Arkham Horror: Mother's Embrace
  • Armada 2526 Gold Edition
  • Army Men RTS
  • army of ruin
  • Arto
  • Ary and the Secret of Seasons
  • As Far as the Eye
  • Ascension to the Throne
  • Assemble With Care
  • Assetto Corsa Competizione
  • Assetto Corsa Ultimate Edition
  • Astebreed Definitive Edition
  • Astronarch
  • Attack of the Earthlings
  • Automachef
  • Automobilista
  • Automobilista 2
  • AUTONAUTS
  • AUTONAUTS VS PIRATEBOTS
  • Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora™ - Ubisoft Connect
  • AVICII Invector: Encore Edition
  • Awesomenauts All Nauts pack
  • Baba is you
  • Back 4 Blood
  • Back 4 blood (EU)
  • Backbone
  • Baldur's Gate II: Enhanced Edition
  • Baldur's Gate: Enhanced Edition
  • Banners of Ruin
  • Bartlow's Dread Machine
  • BASEMENT
  • Batbarian: Testament of the Primordials
  • Batman: Arkham Asylum Game of the Year Edition
  • Batman: Arkham Origins
  • Battle Royale Tycoon
  • Battlecruisers
  • Battlestar Galactica Deadlock
  • BATTLESTAR GALACTICA DEADLOCK SEASON ONE
  • Battlestar Galactica Deadlock: Complete
  • BATTLETECH MERCENARY COLLECTION
  • BATTLETECH Shadow Hawk Pack
  • BEAUTIFUL DESOLATION
  • BEFORE WE LEAVE
  • Beholder 2
  • Ben 10
  • Ben 10: Power Trip
  • Bendy and the Ink Machine™
  • Between the Stars
  • Beyond a Steel Sky
  • Beyond The Edge Of Owlsgard
  • Beyond the Long Night
  • BEYOND THE WIRE
  • Beyond: Two Souls
  • BIOMUTANT
  • Bionic Commando
  • Bionic Commando Rearmed
  • BioShock: The Collection
  • BLACK BOOK
  • Black Moon Chronicles
  • Black Paradox
  • BLACK SKYLANDS
  • BLACKHOLE: Complete Edition
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  • The Battle of Polytopia *DLC1. Cymanti Tribe *DLC2. ∑∫ỹriȱŋ Tribe *DLC3. Aquarion Tribe *DLC4. Polaris Tribe
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  • The Dark Pictures Anthology: House of Ashes
  • THE DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: LITTLE HOPE
  • The Darkest Tales
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  • The Dungeon of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet of Chaos
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  • The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind® Game of the Year Edition
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  • The Golf Club™ 2019 featuring PGA TOUR
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  • The Walking Dead - 400 Days
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  • TINY TINA'S WONDERLANDS CHAOTIC GREAT EDITION
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2024.05.18 19:03 kuroi27 Why Faciality in ATP = Oedipus in AO

What are we trying to account for with the face in particular?
To paraphrase Lacan, they would suggest what we're really obsessed with is something in the face more than the face itself. What they want to ask is, under what conditions do "faces" acquire the semiotic and material power they exercise over us? Why, on one hand, will I start behaving better just because I see a symbol of authority or a picture of someone before whom I'd be embarrassed? And how, on the other hand, am I willing to sacrifice a great deal of my rational interests in the pursuit of someone whose mere face has left me infatuated? In both cases, we should remember that Oedipus was first and foremost, for D&G a theory of internalized oppression through a mechanism of social obligation, and the connection to the face starts to become clear.
To be as specific as possible, faciality adds more detail in the form of additional theoretical categories. But all that takes place in the context of them being the same theoretical problem.
What is Oedipus is Anti-Oedipus? The birth & regime of the signifier & its subject, Lacan's "master signifier" that holds the otherwise floating signifying chain in place. The signifier is the deterritorialized sign, overcoded by the State. You can even see it in the ToC under "Barbarian or Imperial Representation." The illegitimate, Oedipal syntheses of desire are the ones which recover whole persons along strict identities, the exclusive use of the disjunctive syntheses at the heart of Oedipus: man OR woman, white OR black, family OR not. The oedipal triangle performs the function of selecting material appropriate for the reproduction of a very specific social form at the exclusion of the rest.
What is faciality in ATP? The birth & regime of the signifier and its subject, which performs the function of selecting material appropriate for the reproduction of a very specific social form at the exclusion of the rest. I promise if you read even just the plateau on faciality, this much is clear. We can start by acknowledging that the two components of faciality are still the signifier and its subject: faciality is defined explicitly as a mixture of the signifying & post-signifying or subjective regimes of sign. The white wall of signification and the black hole of subjectivity. Here's how they kick of "Faciality":
Earlier, we encountered two axes, signifiance and subjectification. We saw that they were two very different semiotic systems, or even two strata. Signifiance is never without a white wall upon which it inscribes its signs and redundancies. Subjectification is never without a black hole in which it lodges its consciousness, passion, and redundancies. Since all semiotics are mixed and strata come at least in twos, it should come as no surprise that a very special mechanism is situated at their intersection. Oddly enough, it is a face: the white wall/black hole system**.** A broad face with white cheeks, a chalk face with eyes cut in for a black hole. (ATP p. 167)
Italics in original, bold my emphasis. Face = white wall + black hole. White wall = signifier; black hole = subjectivity. And in "On Several Regimes of Signs" you can see them explicitly compare this schema to Oedipus:
Something is still bothering us: the story of Oedipus. Oedipus is almost unique in the Greek world. The whole first part is imperial, despotic, paranoid, interpretive, divinatory. But the whole second part is Oedipus's wandering, his line of flight, the double turning away of his own face and that of God. Rather than very precise limits to be crossed in order, or which one does not have the right to cross (hybris), there is a concealed limit toward which Oedipus is swept. Rather than interpretive signifying irradiation, there is a subjective linear proceeding permitting Oedipus to keep a secret, but only as a residue capable of starting a new linear proceeding. (ATP p. 125)
So here we can see the Oedipus myth interpreted explicitly in terms of the face machine and specifically in terms of signification and subjectification. And again, they function in the exact same way: they select for forms of social acceptable pairings. This is why Anti-Oedipus has to mean (at least) Anti-Heteronormativity. Here's a key passage from Anti-Oedipus:
When Oedipus slips into the disjunctive syntheses of desiring-recording, it imposes the ideal of a certain restrictive or exclusive use on them that becomes identical with the form of triangulation: being daddy, mommy, or child. This is the reign of the "eitheor" in the differentiating function of the prohibition of incest: here is where mommy begins, there daddy, and there you are-stay in your place. Oedipus's misfortune is indeed that it no longer knows who begins where, nor who is who. And "being parent or child" is also accompanied by two other differentiations on the other sides of the triangle; "being man or woman," "being dead or alive." Oedipus must not know whether it is alive or dead, man or woman, any more than it knows whether it is parent or child. Commit incest and you'll be a zombie and a hermaphrodite. In this sense, indeed, the three major neuroses that are termed familial seem to correspond to Oedipal lapses in the differentiating function or in the disjunctive synthesis: the phobic person can no longer be sure whether he is parent or child; the obsessed person, whether he is dead or alive; the hysterical person, whether he is man or woman.'? In short, the familial triangulation represents the minimum condition under which an "ego" takes on the co-ordinates that differentiate it at one and the same time with regard to generation, sex, and vital state. (AO p. 75)
Now, look at how the face works in ATP. It has two aspects:
Under the first aspect, the black hole acts as a central computer, Christ, the third eye that moves across the wall or the white screen serving as general surface of reference. Regardless of the content one gives it, the machine constitutes a facial unit, an elementary face in biunivocal relation with another: it is a man or a woman, a rich person or a poor one, an adult or a child, a leader or a subject, "an x or a y."
[...]
Under the second aspect, the abstract machine of faciality assumes a role of selective response, or choice: given a concrete face, the machine judges whether it passes or not, whether it goes or not, on the basis of the elementary facial units. This time, the binary relation is of the "yes-no" type. [...] A ha! It's not a man and it's not a woman, so it must be a trans-vestite: The binary relation is between the "no" of the first category and the "yes" of the following category, which under certain conditions may just as easily mark a tolerance as indicate an enemy to be mowed down at all costs. At any rate, you've been recognized, the abstract machine has you inscribed in its overall grid. (ATP p. 177)
So, the answer of "What's wrong with the face?" is 1:1 to the question of "What's wrong with Oedipus?" They both are predicated on exclusive use of the disjunctive synthesis of recording that subordinates becoming and desire to social reproduction and the interests of the dominant class. The face, like Oedipus, is triggered by particular arrangements of power, by the internalization of domination through the affective power of certain (facialized) traits. Dismantling the face means breaking the power socially invested traits have over us (the negative task of schizoanalysis as described in AO).
From a Lacanian perspective, this is explicitly what's supposed to underlie both gaze & mirror ("The gaze is but secondary to the gazeless eye, to the black hole of faciality. The mirror is but secondary in relation to the white wall of faciality.", ATP p. 171, italics in original). Zizek is even fine calling the signifier the deterritorialized sign in OwB, even though he doesn't ever acknowledge that D&G also define it that way. The "white wall" is the minimum of signifying redundancy necessary for that deterritorialization, it's a "blank space" where signs can be recorded such that they're only relation is in being related (the non-relation). For Zizek, this is the fantasy screen that we have to traverse to reach the Real. D&G saw it in remarkably similar ways: we have to "break through" the wall of the signifier, the screen that protects us from the chaos of the Real. But while for Zizek, this is a subjective shift where we realize we had what we were looking for all along, for D&G this is a real change, because what we "had all along" is still only a potential that has to be actualized in a particular way. Most significantly, they believe in modes of subjective consistency that are not signifying. Hence, their ethics is experimental and creative, Guattari's "Chaosmosis" as an ethico-aesthetic paradigm for the production of new subjectivity.
We may have digressed a little at the end there, into settling scores with the assassin Zizek. But to the good point that it seems like, there's a lot to love in the face, I can't disagree, we have to agree wholeheartedly. The face is a complex of consciousness and love. Our task is to free that consciousness and love from what is specifically facial about it, which is the enforced form of social reproduction. I'll let them speak for themselves here, as I've hopefully set us up for this paragraph to have its full impact:
Subjectification carries desire to such a point of excess and unloosening that it must either annihilate itself in a black hole or change planes. Destratify, open up to a new function, a diagrammatic function. Let consciousness cease to be its own double, and passion the double of one person for another. Make consciousness an experimentation in life, and passion a field of continuous intensities, an emission of particles-signs. Make the body without organs of consciousness and love. Use love and consciousness to abolish subjectification: "To become the great lover, the magnetizer and catalyzer ... one has to first experience the profound wisdom of being an utter fool." Use the I think for a becoming-animal, and love for a becoming-woman of man. Desubjectify consciousness and passion. Are there not diagrammatic redundancies distinct from both signifying redundancies and subjective redundancies? Redundancies that would no longer be knots of arborescence but resumptions and upsurges in a rhizome? Stammer language, be a foreigner in one's own tongue:
do domi not passi do not dominate
do not dominate your passive passions not
do devouring not not dominate
your rats your rations your rats rations not not. . . (ATP p. 134)
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2024.05.18 18:57 Pristine-News5387 For DMs, What's the most interesting NPC or boss you have ever created?

I was wondering, what was the most interesting NPC or Boss you've ever created? Mine is "Sabe, of the celestial order"; An angel, part of a special order designed by the deities themselves (my game world and pantheon). He was a formidable assassin, who developed an intense appreciation for musical instruments, becoming a professional musician. His musical abilities were extraordinary, but not appreciated by other divine beings. So, in search of fame and appreciation, he betrayed the celestial order and came down to earth to spread his music on the earthly plane. The deities will curse him: His neck began to rot with a strange black mold, starting from the vocal cords. the same thing goes for the hands, which made the use of musical instruments and voice impossible. later in the campaign, he will gain the name "son of chaos" along with two other angels (if you want I can talk about them too).
This Is a boss of my First and actual campaign... What do you think? (I'm a new Master, no hate...)
submitted by Pristine-News5387 to DnD [link] [comments]


2024.05.18 18:44 LordIlthari The Dragon Princess and the Barbarian's Heart Chapter 1: The Scythian Queen

The first rays of rosy-fingered dawn climbed their way over the Macedonian hills and fell like arrows to glint upon the racing bronze of the Scythian raiders. Death clattered and rang among the early morning light as they made their way across the plateau towards the waking village. Gleaming in the rosy light, but obscured by the mist, they seemed like comets cast as Olympian arrows. Their horses' breath clung in the air as they dragged behind them chariots of bronze and chariots of iron. Each carried two men. Those with bronze carried a driver and an archer with bow bent, while those with iron carried a man with a mighty cleaving axe. Each driver also carried for himself a leather shield and bronze short sword. Behind the chariots came footmen equipped like the drivers, and at their flanks rode horsemen carrying one-handed axes, javelins, and wooden shields covered with leather. Thus the horde came down the valley towards the village, cloaked in the fog, but vastly beyond what their victims could hope to muster.
Then, the fog parted like the curtain of a theater. Before the coming horde stood arrayed a sturdy phalanx, a wall of bronze shields and forest of spears aimed towards the invaders. Behind them, men stood with bows bent and arrows knocked. At their center, a man sat astride a white-faced bay mare. Shining in his steel armor, he drew his bow and fired. An arrow sped into the eye of the foremost driver, and a moment later another caught his axeman in the throat. He roared with a voice like a trumpet. “MEN OF MACEDON, SET YOUR HEARTS ABLAZE!” Thus cried Leonidas Kygniois, keen eyed hunter, and with one voice his men answered him. “WOE! WOE! WOE TO THE WICKED!” At those a volley of arrows was loosed from behind the phalanx and fell among the Scythians. Many died, as Leon bid his aide unfurl the banners. Across the field each unit raised up two banners. Below was the banner of the unit, and above the sun with sixteen rays. Besides Leonidas arose his own banner, the white wolf on the blue field, under the black dragon’s wing.
The foremost forces of the Scythians were caught in the charge, unable to pull away. They crashed into the wall of shield and spear with the terrible sound of breaking bones, shearing bronze, dying horses and dying men. All the while arrows continued to rain, and the slaughter was brutal. But then, swift as a winding river, the Scythians turned and wheeled away. The chariots of bronze sent forth arrows of their own, coated in serpent’s venom. The phalanx raised their shields, and covered themselves. Even so some struck through, and the venom wrought a terrible toll on the men. Even so, the phalanx began to march forwards, stepping over the dead with their grim chant. “WOE! WOE! WOE TO THE WICKED”. With this chant they kept their stride, and advanced as a seamless wall. The wounded fell back, helped by their brothers. The archers helped guide them back, and reservists stepped forwards to replace them. Thus the army advanced.
The Scythians pulled back, and danced at the range of the archers. They sought a weakness, or to create a weakness. The bronze chariots formed into a circle and spun like a wheel. Each man turned and fired, and slipped out of range. It was troublesome to target and gave each Scythian plenty of time to line up his shot. In their midst was one most terrible, their chief in gilded chariot. Shining was their armor, brilliant as the sun, head hidden behind a helm like a lion. Their bow was strong and eye keen. Whenever they loosed, a Hellene fell dead.

At the same time, the chariots of iron gathered on the left, and with them the horsemen of the left. The army of the Hellenes had deployed on the flat ground before the village, with a forest on their right to guard that flank. For a flanked phalanx was a doomed phalanx, and the flat ground was optimal both for maintaining a unified line, but also for the chariots and horsemen to maneuver. So the scythians gathered on the left, and sought to envelop the Hellenes there. Their chief suspected their enemy might have hidden horsemen in the mists, and so the wheel turned. They drew forth arrows set with whistles and fired them into the flank. The arrows screamed with a terrible sound to spook horses and sunder morale. Then forwards the flanking force drove to envelop the foe, or else slip behind them to wreak ruin among the archers.

There they found the strongest of the Hellenes. Beneath a banner showing serpent-haired Medusa, they stood clad head to toe in steel. No arrow could find purchase against these immortals, and no blade of bronze could wound them. They turned with grim purpose, spears tracking the foe as the mist lifted. The flanking scythians found themselves with no cover, facing no exposed flank, but the royal elite of the Macedonian army.
Then out from their midst stepped a dark-haired woman with piercing blue eyes. She pulled back her cowl to reveal a diadem, and opened her thumb on a bladed ring. She reached into her cloak and drew forth iron shavings, a magnetic stone, and rose thorns. Then she spoke words of power and imposed her sovereignty over reality.
“Apaangan
Loha
Kaante”
Then she blew the iron over the field. From the bones of the earth, iron answered. It erupted like a field of nails under the feet of the horses. They screamed in pain and stumbled. They fell and cast their riders on the thorns, or else were slowed in their stride. Thus the charge was stalled and the pace ruined. Then spoke the witch again and the air stank of ozone.
“Trisula.
Munhatod
Bijalee chamakana.”
By these words she called forth lightning. It came as a brilliant trident to her bloodied hand. Her hair came alight into the air with static, her diadem gleamed in its light. The enemy saw her and beheld the dread heir of Olympus, last and mightiest of the demigods, Queen Cassandra of the Macedonians. She hurled forth her trident into the air. There it broke and a storm cloud formed over the battle. The fury of Heaven rained down on the chariots of the Scythians. Their chariots of iron were brought to ruin. Their men fell bloodied, deafened, and burned. So Cassandra brought ruin to her enemies.
Thus, the enemy retreated from the hellene lines, and fled from the wrath of Cassandra, daughter of Zeus. For her fury was terrible, and her deeds were mighty. Thus they came back around their chief, and escaped the ruin that had come upon them. They withdrew, step by step, and runners were sent further back to the baggage train to make ready. On the Hellenes came against them, but they were slow in step and cautious. Leon watched the canny chief of the Scythians, and never did his eye wander. The chief in turn watched him, and both put hand to bow, though they did not loose at one another. The range was wrong, but each made ready for their duel.
At length, the Hellenes pushed the Scythians back beyond the extent of the forest, and so their left became exposed. Their chief launched a probing attack with their horsemen, who drew near and threw their javelins into the midst of the Hellene line. The line recoiled, pulling back and inwards, bunching up. At this sign of weakness, at once the chieftain struck. The chariots closed in for the kill. Likewise, the horsemen circled and lowered their spears. As one they would drive into the exposed flank of the Hellenes and drive them from the field.
Then the forest vanished. It had not all been an illusion of it, but enough of it. The chieftain turned, the world seemingly slowing to a crawl. Out of the fading shadow ran bold men armed with long spears. They crashed into the flank of the charging horde and into the midst of the chariots. They drove their spears into the wheels of the chariots, and ground them to a stop. They thrust upwards at the horsemen, who’s mounts reared away from the danger. The charge had been utterly disorganized by this sudden surprise attack, and the advantage was to the Hellenes.
Valiantly the Scythians fought, and most valiant was their chieftain. They lashed about themselves with axes and swords. Their chieftain hefted high a mighty flax; a reverse-edged blade held in two hands. Down the falx fell, and a Hellene that drew too near was all but split in two. The surprise was sudden, but for their charge the Hellenes had forsaken shield and heavy armor. As surprise faded, the battle seemed to shift in favor of the Scythians. Yet the chieftain lifted up their eyes, and saw that they were in danger. The Hellene cavalry finally made its move. Slipping in behind and around the bulk of the Scythian force, with Leonidas at their head, they made to encircle and destroy the Scythian mobile element.
Then the tide truly turned against the Scythians, as a roar sounded out of the mist. A shadowy blur, nearly the size of an elephant, was among them. It snatched the wounded out of the jaws of death, and threw aside chariot and horse with ease. Axes struck at it, and bounced. Spears thrust and were broken. A few bold horsemen charged towards the black mass in the mist, then she raised up her head. Great wings split the mists aside, and her majesty froze horse and rider alike in terror.
Her body was like that of a panther or other great cat, covered in interlocking scales like a serpent. Her four limbs were long and powerful, ending in mighty claws gleaming white as ivory. A tail like a scorpion lashed, a glaive-headed blade at its tip, sharp enough to split a man in twain, swifter than arrows. A long neck terminated in a head a bit like a horse, a bit like a viper, and a bit like a bird of prey. Plated black scales overlapped across her body, gleaming in the dawnlight, sturdier than steel, yet flowing like water. Blue fire lapped around the edges of a mouth full of teeth like daggers. Two great wings eclpsed heaven behind her, leathery like a bat. Long white scars from battles past covered her throat, as eyes like amber froze men like trapped bugs.
Seramis of Achaea, the Dragon Princess, entered the battlefield.
The chieftain saw this doom amongst their men, but watched with wisdom. Though Seramis wielded terror as her weapon, roaring with flame and talons drawn, she wielded only terror. She might have slain many easily, but she used the Gehennan flames as only a firewall. Her tail lashed and claws struck, but they slapped rather than slashing. The dragoness certainly broke bones, but that was more a function of mass than malice. Her priority was the wounded, and she struck those that got in her way.
“Avoid the dragon! Do not strike the wounded, nor stand to capture them! Slay them in a single blow, or wound them and move away before the dragon intervenes!” The chieftain cried, and while the Hellenes could not understand her, Seramis did. The Diluvian princess turned her head and looked toward the lion-helmed Scythian. The pair shared a look of understanding, before the tumult of battle resumed their attention.
Seramis continued her work, all the easier for the lack of interference. Acting as both medic and ambulance, she rescued the wounded, Hellene and Scythian alike. Following in her shadow came a creature a bit like a ram, with seven horns of lapis lazuli. This was her familiar, a spirit of knowledge she called Elijah. He acted as her diagnosticator, identifying wounds and ailments to aid her work. Sera cast spells of healing, not complex work but quick and efficient. Bleeding stalled, bones were set, and pain was soothed. Then she would take the wounded and lash them to her side and back with tendrils of shadow. Once she had gathered a full load of men, she retreated back behind the Hellene lines. There she deposited them with the healers, and leapt forth to rescue yet more.
With the dragoness identified as less a threat, and more a mobile hazard, the Scythians returned their focus to the Hellene cavalry. Their own cavalry had been Leon’s primary target during the initial confusion of the charge, and he had made good use of the opportunity. Many a Scythian horseman had been slain in those first few moments, and no less than thirteen by the prince of marathon’s own hand. The white-feathered shafts of his steel-tipped arrows were seen planted in throat, eye, and heart, a testament to the prince’s deadly aim and fearsome bow. For he was wolf to ringbearers, and the strength of his bow and the superior metal of his arrows pierced breastplates of bronze, even the scale mail of the Scythians.
Even so, while the Hellenes had bled the Scythian horse fiercely, they had less success against the charioteers. The chariots provided additional cover from Hellene javelins, and space to evade their lances. Moreover, their sturdy construction made them perilous to the Hellenes horses, as a swinging wheel could easily break a leg. Finally, the simple fact that each chariot was a two-man team allowed for greater resilience. One man focused on driving, and the other on fighting. If either was wounded so they could not do their work as well, they could switch. Even if the driver was outright killed, the other could take over and use the mass of the chariot as a weapon. So, though the play gave the Hellenes the advantage, the Scythians were far from out of the fight.
So, with fury, their chieftain rallied their men about them and led a fierce counterattack. With the superior durability of the chariots and their mighty chief at their head, the Scythians reaped a bloody retaliation on their foes. Leonidas ordered his men back, to gather themselves anew. Each side had been bloodied, and both sought a retreat. Then with a cry, he took his personal guard back in, aimed directly at the enemy general. His bow was drawn, and fired.
The Scythian general stepped to the side of their chariot, dodging the shot. They drew their own bow, aimed, and fired. Leon evaded, but he wasn’t the target. Instead, his horse was. The white-faced bay mare took the Scythian’s arrow in her flank. The wound was minor, but the poison was not. She ran on seven steps, then seized, and fell down dead. Leon leapt from his dying steed, and landed in a roll. He came up with shield and spear at the ready, as the Scythian chief turned their chariot towards him.
The two general’s bodyguards whirled in a melee as the Scythian and Hellene commanders faced each other in single combat. The Scythian forsook their bow, knowing their poisoned arrows could not pierce the prince’s steel armor. Instead they raised high their fell falx, as their chariot closed in. Leon readied himself as the chariot closed to trample him. Then, at the last moment he sprang aside, unusually agile despite his heavy armor. Still, the lion helm tracked him, and down the falx came. Leonidas raised his shield and set his feet. The shield was steel, and sturdy enough to shatter a blade of bronze such as the falx falling upon him. But it struck true, and carved the steel shield, then kept going. Leon pulled back, but he’d braced himself and couldn’t maneuver. His steel armor parted, and he came away with a serious gash in his arm. He felt the blade hit bone, and realized that if he hadn’t been so well equipped, that blade would have taken his left arm off, cutting straight through the bone.
Still, though he bled, he did not quail. He threw aside his ruined shield and took his spear in both hands. While his foe had the mass and momentum of a charging chariot, the physics of metallurgy dictated that their blade should have broken against him. Curved blades were more fragile, a trade-off for their superior cutting power, and a bronze blade should have no chance against steel. If physics were being violated, it meant sorcery was at play. The enemy’s blade was enchanted.
Again came the chieftain with their blessed blade. Their horses panted heavily in the air, adding to the rattle of the chariot. Chaos swirled around them, but Leon silenced it. The world reduced to simply himself, his enemy, and the vanishing space between. He set his target, and waited for the space to entirely vanish. The beat of the horse’s hooves were set like a metronome. Then, at the precise beat, he shattered the rhythm. He drove his spear forwards into the knee of the Scythian horse. The spear’s wooden haft shattered from the force, but so did the stallion’s leg. It collapsed in a bloody heap, tangling its partner. The chariot crashed into its steeds, slaying both brutally. The chieftain and their driver were staggered, but grasped hold of the chariot and were not thrown.
Leonidas took fourteen calculated steps, moving around the wreck of the chariot, then stepping aboard. In a single motion he drew his blade and cut upwards. The driver fell back as a spray of blood erupted from his throat. He slumped over the front of the chariot, blood flowing to mingle with the horses. Leon whirled on the chieftain as a shout of rage came to their lips. He stepped in close, too close for his foe to swing their great blade effectively. Here, his short blade had the advantage, and the chariot cornered his target. He drew the blade back to his hip like he was knife-fighting, and thrust upwards towards the foe’s beast. The scaled armor of the Scythians was legendarily hard to slash through, but the overlapping scales that caused such strength were vulnerable to this exact kind of upwards thrust. But his canny foe knew the armor’s weaknesses just as well, and pivoted with agility to rival the warrior prince.
They slashed with their great falx, but the range was awkward, so Leon evaded. He then pivoted, taking his blade in both hands. Gritting through the pain of his wounded arm, he wheeled with a mighty blow. He put his back, legs, and both arms into a murderous strike too quick to evade. The Scythian chief recognized it, and ducked their head. Rather than suffering a decapitating blow, they took the hit on the crown of their helm. The gold gilding it deformed and parted, but this was by design. By using a coating of deformable gold above the bronze, the helmet could better absorb slashing attacks. The gold twisted as it was cut, catching the blade and altering the edge alignment. Leon cut though, but rather than burying his sword midway into his target’s skull, he cut apart the helm and left a relatively shallow wound along his foe’s scalp, running down their forehead and across their face. The lion helm split, and fell away. Leon looked the enemy general in the eye for the first time, and hesitated.
The helm fell away, and out spilled long, golden hair, now matted in places by blood. A fair face, with piercing blue eyes looked up at him. A warrior’s snarl covered her face, as the Scythian Queen recovered. She snapped up and slammed the hilt of her falx into Leon’s eye. The prince staggered back, blinking to recover, as she took a step back in turn. With this, she obtained her range, and cut down with her falx. Leon raised his sword to block, but the reverse curve of the unusual weapon made it difficult. His wound caused his arm to spasm, and the curve came around the sword. The enchanted blade bit ito the common one, then cast it away. Leon’s wrist was wounded in the exchange, and blood began to fill his gauntlet.
Leon realized his peril, and stepped in swiftly. He caught his foot behind hers, and pulled back as he slammed his shoulder into her. The queen fell back, but caught herself on the edge of her chariot so she did not fall. Leon pressed in, pinning her arm with his his hand so she could not swing. He drew his hunting knife, and it was at her throat in a moment. His grip was unsteady, as his wrist was wounded, and he felt an utter brute to have a knife at a woman’s throat. “Yield. I do not wish to harm you.” He ordered, uncertain if she could even understand.
The Scythian Queen laughed in his face. “You do not wish to harm me?” She asked through a thick accent. “Then you should never have come to the battlefield! Know that I am Tamur, Queen of the Scythians, no soft flower of the south that you might bruise with your breath. I am here to that I might crush my enemies, drive them before me, hear the lamentations of your pathetic women, and reap from your ruin the prosperity of my people. Slay me now you coward, or else you must yield, for I will slay you without mercy.” Clear and clarion was her voice, as Athena upon the battlefield or Artemis on the hunt. She feared neither death nor injury, and laughed in spite of the carnage all about them.
Leon held his ground and was not moved by her laughter or insult. “Hear me then, oh Queen of the Scythians. What is greater cowardice? To be slain for principle, or to breach principle for fear of being slain? You are a mighty warrior; this I cannot deny. But this is my principle, that no man is any man that slays a woman, even if she is a warrior. I bid you now yield, that we might bring peace between our people and an end to this meaningless conflict you have brought about.” He spoke with all respect due to a fellow warrior, and with the resolve of his own indestructible soul.
“Far be it from meaningless, warrior of the Hellenes. Would you not do anything, even go beyond the bounds of the earth for your people? Hear now my principle, that my people shall conquer that we might not be conquered. For you who are blessed with so much shall not offer a pittance to our meager tents. So we shall take, for this is the nature of things, that the prosperity of one must always be at the expense of another. This is the balance of the world, and it belongs to he who carries the sword.”
Then she snapped her head forward, and impacted with Leon’s helm. Headbutting a steel helmet with your bare, already wounded head is generally not a good idea. But she was braced, and he was not. The maneuver would have opened her throat, but Leon had held back his knife for his soul rebuked him to harm a woman. Needless to say this principle, while generally noble, was extremely foolish in this instance. Chivalry was certainly not on Tamur’s mind as she pushed him back, and kicked him in the balls.
Leon was wearing armor and greaves, but about his waist was more of a plated skirt than a codpiece. The introduction of a bronze boot to that region inflicted less damage than it might, but this was in the sense that his family line could continue, rather than full nullification. He staggered further back, agility shattered. Tamur lashed out with her falx, and Leon wisely rolled away.
Leonidas began pushing himself back to his feet, but a Scythian archer circled. Whether by skill or by luck, they let fly their arrow and it struck true into the gash their queen had torn in the prince’s armor. Leon gasped briefly in pain as the arrow hit under his shoulder plate and pierced the meat of his back. It went through to the rib, and cracked it. He felt his blood already burning as the poisoned arrow delivered its deadly payload into his veins. The meat of muscle across his back began to scream and spasm, dropping him back to the earth. He saw Tamur approaching, and grit his teeth to rise through the pain. He was too slow, the falx came up…
Then there was a rush of wind, a smell of sulfur, and the sound of bronze ringing against talon, then scraping against scale. Seramis had intervened. She swooped in, and her talon met the falling flax. The two mighty women’s blades rang against one another, then Tamur shifted the blade. She cut across the dragoness’s palm and wounded her, drawing blood as the enchanted weapon carved scale. Seramis retaliated by coiling her tail, then striking forth with it like a whip. The foot and a half long blade at the end of the tail met the barbarian queen’s guard, and drove her back. The blade of the falx shook and sang like a tuning fork.
Seramis lowered her head, and spoke with a voice tinged with fire. She spoke in the Scythian’s own language, a growl deep in her throat and fire on her tongue. “Have you not heard, queen of the Scythians, that one should not trifle with a dragon’s hoard? If not, then I will educate you. Come not between a daughter of Tiamat and her treasure. This is folly, and will be your ruin should you persist.”
Tamur heard the words of the dragoness, and looked once to the blood on her sword, and once to the flames in the maw before her. She saw the damage the hellenes had wrought on her vanguard, and the advance of their phalanx. She stepped back, and ordered a retreat. Scythian and Diluvian locked eyes as the queen boarded a new chariot, and swiftly they retreated from the battlefield.
Sera breathed a sigh of relief, and quickly turned to her prince. Leon had kept trying to get up, and managed to stagger to his feet. Gently, she took him in an unwounded claw, and bore him away. “Leon, please tell me you can hear me.”
“I can. Ow.” Leon replied, breathing slowly, and deeply, to keep his face and voice from twisting in pain. “What did you say to her?”
“Just a bit of theater to make her leave, don’t worry about it. You focus on not dying, oh chivalrous fool mine.”
“Hah. Tease me when I’m not dying, would you kindly? It hurts too much to laugh.”
“Maybe next time, don’t be such an idiot then.”
“Ah, but then how would you have an excuse to rescue me?”
“Please, we both know I don’t need an excuse to steal you away. I’ve done it before.” Sera teased, and Leon smiled through the pain.
Even as two of the trio of royals retreated, Cassandra remained. She saw the Scythians trying to quit the field, and that the ambush had not been successful enough. They had mauled the Scythian mobile element, but not utterly broken it. She sent an order for caution, for if they overpursued the wily Scythian general, she might turn and crush them in turn. Still, she would not allow her enemy to escape her wrath so easily. She cast again, and thunder boomed across the clear morning.
“Avataar”
“Poorvaj”
“Rosh”
The mists of early morning fled from the Hellenes, and ran down the Scythians. The retreating barbarians turned, and saw the mists gather together into a humanoid figure. Long curls of smoke came down from a scowling face, almost akin to hair. Winds howled like limbs to throw men from horse and chariot. Tamur quickly evaded as the growing titan of mist swung, clear blue eyes gleaming amongst the artificial cloud. Then the avatar drew back its hand, and lighting crackled into being. The heir of Olympus and last daughter of Zeus hurled down lighting bolts at the Scythians, reminding all why even with the thrones of Olympus long empty and ashen, they were still remembered in myth and legend.
Bolts of lightning mauled man and horse alike. Chariots fell away twisted and burning. Thunder terrified men and horses. Cassandra watched from the eyes of her avatar as she delivered the wrath of an angry god upon then. “I am the dread Queen of Macedon. I am the miracle of destruction. I am mankind’s answer to dragons, and you dare, YOU DARE! Come to my home, my kingdom, and hurt my people, and now you think you can simply run away?” The whisper grew to a roaring fury, bolts of lightning leaping from her eyes to slay yet more.
Then Tamur cried a loud challenge, and bid her driver turn the chariot. She charged at the avatar of mist and storm, raising her blade high. In rage, Cassandra cast down another bolt of lightning, but Tamur raised up her sword. The bolt caught the bronze blade, but did not rip down through into the queen. Instead, she turned and set herself, then cut the air. Lighting ripped back into the avatar, and cut it from crown to groin. There was a clap of thunder, and the avatar was banished.
Cassandra went flying back, caught by her men, but left dazed. A wound, thankfully shallow, had sprung from no apparent source, from her crown down the center of her body, even under her armor. She staggered upright, hands shaking violently. She reached for magic, but it was like a man who was concussed. It was there, but unstable, difficult to control, unreliable. The clean, efficient control she prided herself on eluded her. She drew in a breath, and clenched her fists to stop her shaking hand. Showing no pain from her wound, she watched as the scythians slipped out of her grasp.
“Where in the world did she get a sword that can cut the soul?” Cassandra wondered aloud. Then, heeding the insistence of her men, she retreated, and ordered the army to retire from the field. She growled as she made her way back towards the medical tents. “I hate dealing with other miracles.”
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2024.05.18 17:01 LegitimateTown3247 The ORIGINS of The Asteri, Valg and Princes of Hel

This post was originally a comment under Lousiferrr's post but despite the limited amount of effort I put into it, it turned out to be one of the most complex and well thought out theories I came out with 😅. So, without further rambling this is the theory.
I thought about this theory a few days ago without fact-checking anything, so there is a possibility that I remember things wrong.
☆We know from Apollion that his (and presumably his brother's) father is Void and his mother is Chaos. We also know that the Under-King was also created by Void. Void is described (if I'm not mistaken) as being the darkness between the stars, so we can assume that the dark powers the princes possess come from Void. But there is another power that Apollion has that stood out to me, and that is his lightning. Lightning is a form of light, the opposite of how Void is described, so could that power come from Chaos?
If Void is the darkness between the stars, is Chaos the stars themselves?
This would make sense if the Valg, Princes of Hel/demons, and the Asteri are the same species because it means the difference between them comes from who inherited powers from which side of the family.
☆We can see many examples of Asteri/Valg having powers that should belong to the other: - Rigelus' light is described as being destructive, despite that trait being associated with dark powers - Vesperus is an Asteri, a being associated with light powers , but she, alongside the other Asteri that ruled over Prythian, created the illyrians, a species with dark, destructive magic and leathery wings, the same wings Hunt hears in his dream with Apollion and the wings the Princes have in their true forms.
☆Now there is a speculation I had for some time now and I know for sure I'm not the only one, and that is that the 12 gods from tog are actually Asteri not only because of their rotten personality but also because both of them are described to think/act as one.
So, in that case, let's include them in this mess, too :)
We know from Seline's hologram that the shifter fae came to Prythian at some point. She also says that Theia managed to kill all the Asteri on their home planet. We know that the second one is not true at all, not only because of the Vesperus but also because of the Asteri from Midgard that want to take revenge on the fae there. But who's to say they were the only Asteri that ruled that planet - I believe the gods from the tog world are the remaining Asteri that ruled Prythian and left to Erilea when the shifter fae opened the rift (or gate i can't remember).
Now why do I believe that, and how is that even related to the subject? Because I want everyone to understand my thought process, so bear with me.
The reason why I connect the tog Asteri to the Prythian ones is because of the power similarities. I'm sure some of you know who I'm talking about already, and that's Nesta and Deanna. - in Empire of Storms, i believe, Aelin is possessed by Deanna, and her flames turn silver - in acotar, Nesta's powers manifest as silver flames We know from Hofas that the Asteri from Prythian gathered their powers into the Cauldron so they could make the Dread Troves. The same Cauldron Nesta was thrown into in acowar. There is a BIG possibility that Nesta got Deanna's actual powers.
Now back to my point on how the Asteri’s powers manifest as both Void and Chaos
If we go along with my theory about Nesta, then her powers are the ones of an Asteri. So let's analyze them: - Nesta's powers represent death. She has been called Lady Death after all. Plus, Lanthys asks her which death god she is. - Thanatos calls himself Prince of Death in Hosab. - As I said above, Nesta's death powers manifest as silver flames. Flames are a form of light.
☆We also have Amren. One of the biggest mysteries of the SJM Universe and my favourite character in Acotar :) Theories about her are very varied from Valg to Asteri to the Goddess of Death Vanth from tog to an angel from our world. Now I don't believe for the last one to be true at all, as for the Vanth one, I keep going back and forth with it.
So, for the sake of not making this reply longer than it already is, we would take in consideration just the first two.
→The people that say she is valg use as examples: - her illusion abilities from acomaf, where she made the hybern army believe they were drowning - the fact that she drinks blood like the ironteeth witches - She was Rhysand's main teacher when it came to controlling his powers, powers which seem pretty Valg-like to me and others.
→The people that believe she is Asteri have as main argument: - Her true form, which is revealed in acowar, is described as a being of light with feathered wings and a halo above her head - The fact that she describes her act of disobedience as falling, the same way the rebels on Midgard are called (Fallen).
So, if the theory about the big three being the same species is correct, then her variety of powers makes perfect sense. She got her illusion powers from Void and her fire ones from Chaos.
☆Now comes an issue I don't have an exact answer to, and it is about the black blood. Before finishing Hofas, I believed it symbolized that the person who had it was drinking first/secondlight. After reading that the Asteri did not bleed black in the final fight, I came to the opinion that black blood symbolizes that the beings who possess it took more powers from Void than they did from Chaos.
☆Now comes another problem because why not ☺️ And that is, if Nesta and Elain got Asteri’s powers, which made them capable of using the Dread Troves, then how come Bryce can do it too.
I believe that is because Theia was created by Vesperus the same way Hunt was created by Thanatos and Apollion. I am pretty sure Theia has Vesperus’ powers, or, at least, a diluted version of it. I mean, SO MANY things point to that: - we know that the sword Gwydion/Starsword was dipped into the Cauldron which is where it got its magic properties from, but we also know from the Princes of Hel that both the sword and Truth Teller are keyed to Theia's power. If Vesperus put her power into the Cauldron and Theia also has that power, then it would make sense why the weapons would answer to her. - She has the powers of an Asteri/Valg: both light and darkness/shadows - Vesperus says that after she, alongside the other Asteri from Prythian, put their powers into the Cauldron, they “bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world”. With that is mind, isn't it interesting how Bryce can manipulate, not only the Prison island but also the ones from Avallen, kinda like her powers are bound to the world itself
Aidas says Bryce's powers are different from the Asteri, but are they? Because it doesn't seem like it to me. The difference we are given is that the Asteri’s are more blunt but that to me only means that is so strong that it's harder to manage, not that Theia's doesn't have the same origin.
In conclusion:
Sorry if there are any mistakes. English isn't my first language.
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2024.05.18 16:56 kenUdigitt Novel Chapter 415

Disclaimer: I do not speak Korean. This is purely translated by machine with a lot of cleanup afterward. With that in mind, I am open to criticism to improve these translations. Enjoy!

Chapter 415

The battle commenced with alarming rapidity.

As a thick fog cascaded across the wilderness like a tidal wave, tens of thousands of monsters amassed before him. Hovering above the ground, the dark-skinned Grand Mage, Magic Johnson, declared the start of the conflict with a single, potent command:

「Fire Cannon.」

Swoosh.

Mana surged around him, conjuring five flames from the ether. They swelled, taking on the form and fury of cannonballs, before hurtling forward.

Whoosh, Boom!

The black tide of monsters was cleaved in two. The searing heat charred flesh and bone, liquefying the very earth beneath them.

This devastating spell incinerated a thousand creatures in an instant.

Yet the relentless tide of monsters pressed on, undeterred, as did Magic Johnson.

「Water Blaster.」

The air, once dry as sand from the Fire Cannon, now held a damp moisture.

Spreading his arms, Magic Johnson summoned a colossal wave that towered behind him.

It was a defiance of the laws of nature.

It was pure magic, a display of unparalleled might from the preeminent War Mage among his peers.

「Cover them.」

Gone was the jovial, smiling visage of Magic Johnson. In its place was a look of deep, intense determination.

With a sweeping gesture, he cast a vast, dark shadow over the advancing monsters.

Crash!

Powered by mana, the wave crashed down, its immense pressure exploding the bodies of the monsters.

As the flames dwindled and the ground soaked, Magic Johnson was already prepared for his next maneuver.

「Strike down. Lightning Rain.」

In an instant, dark clouds swarmed above the monsters, unleashing a barrage of lightning bolts.

Crack! Fizz!

- Roar!

- Aaaargh!

Lightning ravaged the sky and earth alike.

Blackened gargoyles and griffins toppled from the sky, while the wet earth conducted electricity.

Living monsters cringed and keeled over, screaming in agony, as the undead disintegrated into ash.

Amidst this awe-inspiring chaos, a groan of disbelief was heard.

「This is the power of a Grand Mage...」

The impact of merely three spells was staggering.

Countless monsters lay dead or incapacitated, a significant portion of their legion shattered.

Yet, even the Grand Mage, the sole architect of this devastation, could not escape the overwhelming exhaustion that followed.

「Fuck. If I'd known this would happen, I would've saved a few more spells.」

Magic is a complex art, and for Magic Johnson, a master of wide-area spells, the toll is as profound on his mind and mana as the devastation he wreaks.

Considering the mana he had already expended at the front lines before this, he had reached his limit.

「Mrs. Chen. I guess I'm getting old too.」

「Step back. We old folks need to stick together and help each other out. And...」

Fei Chen, discarding her whiskey bottle, quickly snatched the bow at her side.

An arrow made of mana materialized on the empty bowstring.

「It's Ms. Chen, not Mrs. Who decided I was married?」

With a huff, Fei Chen released the string. The arrow, blazing with light, tore through the air and the dense fog with a sharp twang. Then:

Boom!

A colossal explosion ensued.

Fei Chen observed as a Death Knight, hidden among the throng, was annihilated without a chance to utter its final cries. She drew her bowstring once more.

Twang, twang, twang!

Arrows transformed into beams of light streaking across the wilderness, each one obliterating scores of monsters.

If Magic Johnson ranks among the top three Grand Mages and is the foremost War Mage globally, then Fei Chen is the unrivaled archer of her time.

But...

- Roar!

- Screech!

The legion, numbering in the tens of thousands, surged forward, undeterred.

For every ten monsters felled, another ten emerged. For every hundred slain, another hundred rose.

These beasts, veiled in thick fog, were more formidable and ferocious than ordinary monsters. Now, only a direct confrontation remained.

As the monstrous legion advanced, both veterans stepped forward to meet them.

"Ares Guild. Formation B. Break through them."

Click-clack!

Under the composed direction of Lee Jeong-Ryong, the elite guild members, who had remained unscathed thus far, moved in unison.

Jin Tae-Kyung, having observed them from a distance, turned to the suicide squad he had assembled from the western front.

"Everyone, Formation J."

「Yes!」

「Formation J! Assume the formation!」

With resolute voices echoing in unison, the suicide squad sprang into action.

Behind Jin Tae-Kyung, Wu Hei-Xing, who had been rallying a small contingent of Red Guard Gang Hunters, grabbed a member of the suicide squad and asked,

「Hey, kid. What exactly is Formation J?」

Recognizing Wu Hei-Xing, Shao Shen frowned and replied,

「It's a combat formation decided by my Hyung.」

「So, what does it mean?」

「Jonna. He said it means to fight with everything we have.」 [Note: "Jonna" is a Korean slang for "fuck it".]

「…!」

Momentarily speechless, Wu Hei-Xing watched as Lee Jeong-Ryong and Jin Tae-Kyung charged forward.

Prince Felix and an army of ten thousand Hunters were not far behind.

「Aaaaaaah!」

- Roaaar!

Humans clashed with monsters.

Monsters clashed with humans.

The battlefield erupted into a cacophony of roars and murderous intent, as both sides hurtled across the wilderness, weapons and claws in deadly encounter.

Squeal, crack!

The brutal battle had commenced.



* * *



I leaned back, tensing my shoulders. With a swift motion, I hurled my arms forward, channeling all my strength.

Swoosh, flub-flub-flub!

White Flames shot from my hand, carving a path through dozens of monsters.

Seizing the fleeting opening, I plunged into the melee, my limbs a blur as I struck at any foe within reach.

Smack!

My fist connected with the skull of an onrushing Lycanthrope, smashing it like a grape.

Before the beast’s cranial fluid could splatter the earth, I was already airborne.

Click, whoosh!

I landed, locking eyes with a towering undead troll, its dim gaze meeting mine at four meters high.

Before the undead troll could wield its club, my palm slammed into its chest with crushing force.

Thump!

Intense heat burst forth, sending smoke billowing from the creature’s seven facial orifices. Struck by this lethal blow, the troll was obliterated instantly, its regenerative abilities rendered useless.

- Wicked human, behind you!

I know, I know. Who asked you anyway?

I muttered under my breath, whirling around just in time. A lance, dark with malevolent magic, whistled perilously close to my neck before soaring off into the distance.

The lance had been aimed to catch me mid-leap — a clever attempt, but they had underestimated me.

"Damn it. Why are there so many Death Knights? This isn't a chicken restaurant." [Note: I'm not sure what this is referencing. The best guess I can offer is that he's commenting on how crowded the battlefield was, similar to how crowded a chicken restaurant can get in Korea.]

Dodging the lance, I landed smoothly and immediately found myself facing a Death Knight barreling toward me on a skeletal steed.

- This is the end!

Whoosh!

The Knight shouted as he swung his sword, which glowed with a dark magic. Though his power didn't match an S-rank Hunter, it was certainly comparable to a top A-rank.

Maybe...

'This Death Knight was once a Hunter too.'

That thought crossed my mind as the specter of Lei Fei flashed before me, instilling a sudden pang of bitterness. Meanwhile, the Skeleton Warlord issued a shrill cry.

- Avoid it, human!

Pfft!

As if dissolved by an unseen force, the magic on the sword faded into nothing.

The Death Knight, looking dully at the mystical spear blade protruding through its chest, gasped feebly.

- How...

"This is the end."

Echoing the Knight’s earlier proclamation, I drove my spear downward.

"Whoever you were, you fought hard."

Screech, thud!

The skeletal horse and its rider split apart, vanishing into the ether. As before, I conjured White Flames to carve through the encroaching monsters, then asked aloud.

"Why aren't you begging for food now?"

- Ahem. What do you take this commander for?

Sizzle!

"Lazy bum. You say you don't want to fight but you drool over situations like this."

- What!

"Why, aren't I exactly right?"

- You agreed, you cunning human, that I wouldn't participate in the battle! And when was it that you said we mustn't let other humans find out that I exist?

"Excuses. So, do you want to eat this magic or not?"

- ...

Crack!

"Hey. Can't you hear?"

- Hmm. I don't really want to eat.

"...What?"

Swoosh!

Caught off guard, I narrowly dodged an incoming attack.

After dispatching about ten monsters with a sweeping strike of my spear, I posed a serious question,

"Why's that? Do you want to wither away to nothing?"

- Umm... I don't know. I just have a feeling.

"A feeling?"

- Yes. I'm undead, but sometimes even undead get moody. Just let me be.

"...Since when do the undead get moody?"

Normally, this one would have pounced like a starving dog. Why the sudden change?

'Do undead go through puberty?'

As much as the Skeleton Warlord is an odd monster, this was nonsensical.

I stopped pondering over it and resumed slicing through monsters when suddenly,

Kaboom!

An area about ten meters in diameter was engulfed by an aura, or rather, Sword Qi.

In an instant, the frontline was cleared, and a figure gently descended.

"There are too many monsters. It's impossible for the entire suicide squad to break out."

I understood exactly what Lee Jeong-Ryong meant.

"You mean, we should go with a select few elites?"

"That's right. Get ready."

As Lee Jeong-Ryong spoke, I ducked as a crescent of Sword Qi whistled past, slicing through several large monsters as if they were mere cheesecake.

What if that Sword Qi had been aimed at me? If Lee Jeong-Ryong and I were to face off...

"You, me, and Wu Hei-Xing. The three of us should be enough."

Licking my parched lips, I responded,

"That's quite strange."

"What is?"

"You never know until you fight. We won't know how strong the Arch Lich is until we face it."

"There are three of us who are S-rank Hunters. No matter how strong the Arch Lich might be, it's no match for us."

Us...

It's a comforting word, yet why does it leave such a sour taste?

Perhaps it's due to the individuals included in this 'us.'

Nevertheless, I had committed to the suicide squad tactic since I had proposed it. From that perspective, Lee Jeong-Ryong's proposal was optimal.

"Let's do that. Where is Wu Hei-Xing?"

Crack!

No sooner had I spoken than Wu Hei-Xing burst through the horde, slashing his way through.

In stark contrast to the pristine Lee Jeong-Ryong, Wu Hei-Xing appeared battered, yet his eyes sparkled with unabated vigor.

"Luckily, you arrived in time."

「Hmph. As if monsters like these could stop me.」

Hadn’t he nearly succumbed to these very 'monsters like these' just an hour ago?

I was internally chiding Wu Hei-Xing's unimproved mental state when it occurred.

"Mr. Jin Tae-Kyung!"

The call came from Mr. Choi, sounding across the battlefield.

Between the swarms of monsters, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Mr. Choi’s face before it vanished.

Then, something gleaming arced through the air and embedded itself in the earth near me.

'This is...'

It was unmistakable — the [Hero's Soul]. From his obscured position, Mr. Choi called out,

"I won’t join you, but take this sword. And... be careful!"

His words were heavy with implication. Without a word, I grasped the [Hero's Soul].

Beyond the throng of monsters, the darkened cityscape loomed.

"Let's go."

Lee Jeong-Ryong offered a gentle smile.

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