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Ficnapped! Hazardous Recovery - Playing Dungeons and Dragons with Space Sheep

2024.06.01 16:29 Mini_Tonk Ficnapped! Hazardous Recovery - Playing Dungeons and Dragons with Space Sheep

(Cong Rats u/Xerxes250! You've been FICNAPPED, EKEKEKEK! Thanks to u/Espazilious, u/CaptainMatthew1, and u/T00Dense for supporting me in Group 3 of the Ficnapping!
That's right, I've Ficnapped Hazardous Recovery, a very well-written fic. I'd recommend it to those looking for a more... tech-inspired fic.
So, enjoy the dumb stuff.)
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Memory Transcription Subject: Kimmich, currently dying inside
Date [standardized human time]: October 25, 2136
If I had been made aware that one of the first days we were on Earth was going to be spent sitting in a predator's house, looking at sheets of paper, and listening to said predator prattle on about silly plastic shapes with numbers on them I'd have refused the trip as a whole. The whole concept seemed like a massive waste of time, not only for us but for him too. Unfortunately, I was trapped here by the whims of Vemnka and Sevkan, and they never let up a chance to see new human past times.
Andre, for his part, had been slow with us, letting us ease into the new living situation with relative laxity on where we were allowed to go. We'd already watched a few movies, played a few "video games", and even listened to some of his music. It was... enjoyable. Even with the obvious attempts to cover up a whole heap of predatory behaviors, Andre had managed to get us feeling somewhat welcome.
Until he had us sit at his kitchen table and write out the Venlilian numerical system, to which he responded with a chuckle, "Looks like Skaven Scratch." He did not elaborate. At first, I thought the exercise was going to be a simple lesson on how to read human numbers. But no, it was far worse. Instead, Andre went to his workshop, scanned all the numbers, and began printing a bunch of geometric prisms with the numbers on them. Vemnka was the first to ask about their purpose as she picked up a dodecahedron, each side holding a numeral.
"Well, I figured we'd play a game, and these," he held up a worn version of the same shape Vemnka was holding, this one with human numbers on it, "are how we play."
Not even a minute later we were watching as he 'rolled' the 'dice' across a little pad on the table. "So, basically, these dice, the 'd6's will help us make our characters. I use the '4d6 minus the lowest rolled' method for stats, but there are other ways to do it."
Sevkan picked up a triangular prism and poked his paw pad with it. "And what about the rest of them," he asked as he tossed the plastic shape onto the pad.
"The one you just rolled is a 'd4', it's a damage dice. Same with the d6, 'd8', 'd10', and 'd12'. This," he held up a dice with ten sides, but with two separate numbers on each face, "is a percentile dice. Helps when I need to see what outcome happens when a random encounter starts, though we'll not be using it because we're doing a oneshot." He flicked it up with a click and caught it. Next, he picked up the same dodecahedron as before and rolled it. "Ouph, nat 1, less than ideal when starting a game."
"What does that mean," I asked, looking down at the twenty-sided dice; the side displaying '1' was facing up.
"A nat 1 is the worst roll on a 'd20'. It's a critical failure, which means if you roll a nat 1, something bad happens." He rolled it again as he talked, "The d20 is the most used dice because it's the 'check dice', you use it to figure out how well you did on an action. For instance," he reached across the table for a sheet of paper. Looking it over, I could see it was a 'character sheet', as Andre called them. "This is the strength stat," He pointed at a block on the left side of the paper, "It shows how strong your character is. If I were to roll this d20 and get a 13, but your strength stat is a 14, plus whatever save modifier you have, then I'd fail the check and either nothing would happen, or you'd get a reaction to my failure." He shifted his weight as he reached for the ground. With a plap, Andre brought up a hardbacked book. My translator had a bit of difficulty translating the text due to the font, but in the end, it spat out 'D&D Player's Handbook'. A small script of subtext under the cover art, which I ignored due to its content, read 'Everything a player needs to create heroic characters for the world's greatest roleplaying game.'
"A roleplaying game," Vamnka asked before Sevkan or I could formulate the words.
"Yep! A TTRPG, Dungeons and Dragons, D&D. I played this once or twice before my accident with the reactor room, but I think I still remember enough to DM for it."
This time Sevkan asked the question, "TTRPG and DM?"
"Tabletop roleplaying game, and Dungeon Master. I run the game, so I'm the dungeon master." He laid out three sets of three pieces of paper at each seat. It had the same words and markings as the one before him. "So, as I said, we're doing a one-shot because I can't be bothered with doing a whole ass campaign. Plus you won't be here forever and we have work to do at some point."
"I'll be making your characters with input from each of you. We're doing basic fifth edition rules because the newer editions, sixth up to ninth, all suck." He grabbed four of the d6 and held them aloft, looking at Sevkan, then Vemnka, and finally landing his gaze on me. I felt my fur rise but paid it no mind as he looked down at the dice before him. "Vemnka, you're going first." He picked up and tossed the dice to Vemnka who scrambled to grab all four before they had a chance to fall off the table.
"So, I just... toss them?" The quizzical flap of her left ear was met by a curt nod from Andre. "Alright," she said as her paw flicked the dice across the table. One landed on 1, another on 2, another on 3, and the final one on 6. "Twelve in total," she announced.
"Good, now remove the lowest number rolled and mark it down somewhere on the back of your sheet."
After five more rolls, Vemnka's stats totaled 11 in strength, 15 in intelligence, another 15 in constitution, 16 in wisdom, 16 in charisma, and 13 in dexterity.
Next was my turn. I rolled a 13, which I put into dexterity, a 14 in constitution, a 15 in charisma, a 16 in strength, another 16 in wisdom, and a 12 in intelligence.
Finally, Sevkan rolled a 12, which was placed in dexterity, a 13 in charisma, a 16 in constitution, a 10 in both wisdom and intelligence and, as Andre put it, the ever elusive 18 was put in strength.
With all that tedious, boring, unimportant, and downright torturous work out of the way, now was the time to get into character creation. Andre gave us the book to look over and told us to ask any questions we wanted if we needed to. I pulled up my pad's visual translator and began skimming the text.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Vemnka, having the time of her life!
The book wasn't big, not by a long shot. I'd read books three to four times as long in [a day] or two. What the book contained, however, was an entirely different story. It wasn't just a rulebook, or handbook, as the cover suggested, it was a way to shape the wild imagination, to tame the itch to create.
And by the stars am I creating!
Andre told us we'd start by choosing class, race, and background. Of course, we had no idea what that meant, so he took us through it one at a time at a leisurely pace. He flipped through the book's pages before landing near the beginning, showcasing a stout-looking human with the undertext 'Dwarf' printed to the left.
After running through all of the vaguely human-like races to pick and a few classes that would shape our table-side adventure, I'd chosen to be a gnome cleric, which was a humorous choice. Andre said I'd primarily be healing, helping my team by keeping them in battle. I didn't mind the idea of being a sideliner, as long as I could help.
Dad had chosen to be a human 'paladin'. Andre explained that the term equated pretty easily to a form of holy guardian, in the form of a mortal, who the god of their faith gifted to defend those around them. Dad thought is was a pretty cool idea, especially the idea of "burning heretics away with holy fire," as Andre put it. It took him a bit longer to choose his race because he kept returning to the page with the almost-Arxur-looking Dragonborn. Still, after some coaxing, he finally let up on whatever was going on in his head and chose the easiest option, and the one Andre had recommended.
Finally, Sevkan had looked a bit farther into the game itself, finding a non-classified databook called "Player's Companion". Andre described it as a supplemental read, adding a bit more variety to the already large amount of options presented in the Player's Handbook. Sevkan took one look at it and immediately chose the Aarakocra, causing Andre to flinch. He said it'd be fine because the Aarakocra looked nothing like Krakotl, but Sevkan still apologized as best he could. He chose the fighter class, which was about as self-explanatory as possible.
Next was backgrounds, I chose to be an acolyte. It made sense in my head that a religious healer would have a background in religion. Dad leaned toward Folk Hero as his background, an option that both he and Andrew agreed would suit his character. Sev chose to be a hermit, which caught me and dad off guard after Andre gave us a rough rundown of what it was. An isolationist fighter, the sort of stuff that got you locked away.
"Alright," Andre said, leaning forward, looking between each of us again. I noticed Dad's fur rise a bit less than last time. Progress is progress. "We've got a Gnome Cleric, a Human Paladin, and an Aarakocra Fighter. Pretty good party dynamics for your first time even hearing about DnD. Now, for the most part, we've done everything we need to do together. From here you would have normally gone through stats and equipment, but I don't want to, and this is a oneshot so those aren't that important. Vem, on that last sheet, please mark down 'Spare the Dying', 'Sacred Flame', and 'Guidance'. Kimmich, on your last sheet, mark down 'Lay on Hands', 'Divine Smite', and 'Divine Sense'. Sev... you can just throw that sheet away. You won't be moving past where you are now."
Sevkan looked down at the sheet with a hint of sadness. To be fair to him, 'Spare the Dying' and 'Divine Smite' sounded cool, but before I could ask what they meant, Dad beat me to it. "What are these for? What do you mean?"
Andre rolled a D20 absent-mindedly, "Spare the Dying is a Cleric Cantrip that stabilizes a person who's taken fatal damage and is rolling death saves. Divine Smite is that whole 'BURN IN HOLY FIRE' thing I was talking about. Depending on how you flavor it, it's you wrapping your weapon in divine fire and burning away at your enemy's soul."
Despite his previous misgivings, ones which were practically plastered over his fur, Dad seemed honestly interested in the concept behind the Divine Smite. "And I just get to use it? Any time I want?"
"Well, not really." Andre pointed a finger toward me. "She has three cantrips which can be used at any time, you only have two. Divine Smite is an actual spell, as in its magic that requires you to utilize a spell slot. Lay on Hands is a contrip that can heal and Divine Sense allows you to detect certain types of creatures based on their alignment. Good and Evil in particular."
Sev spoke up, displaying confusion with his ears. "So why don't I get any spells or cantrips?" There was a degree of disappointment in his voice.
Andre leaned back with a chuckle, flexing his dexterous prosthetics as he clutched the d20 he'd been rolling. "Because, as a fighter, you probably have the most useful ability of them all. It's called 'Second Wind' and its essentially Lay on Hands but only you gain from it. It's an ability you can only use once per short rest, which we won't be needing to get into, which heals you for 1d10 plus your level, which all of you will be set at level 2.
"Again, we won't need much of the stuff in the books because this is A. Your first time and I want it to be fun, and B. A oneshot where nothing matters and we're here to have a good time. So, real quick," Andre grabbed a d8s and a d10 and began rolling them. "Vem," the d8 clacked across the table, landing on a 4, "you've got 15 health total. Because you're a light class, always expect to be on the lower side of health. Kimmich, you've got," he rolled the d10, it landed on an 8, "20 health, not a bad roll. And finally Sevkan," the d10 rolled across the table once more, the 5 side facing up. "18 health. Not too bad either, given your ability to heal yourself."
"How did you get those numbers," I asked, looking across the table at each of our sheets.
"While you all were reading, I put your modifiers where they belong, and changed what needed to be changed with your stats." Andre leaned over and pointed at Dad's sheet, "I increased each of your scores by one because you're human." He moved to mine, "I increased your intelligence by two." Then he moved to Sevkan's "And I increased your dexterity by 2 and wisdom by one. I made a slight mistake when asking you guys to roll, as usually, you'd choose race and class before putting your stat rolls anywhere, but you all seem to have put them in pretty good spots."
The three of us gave Andre amused looks, to which he raised an eyebrow. "Humans get an additional point in everything?" Sev asked with a small whistling laugh.
"Oh, uh. Yeah, now that there are actual other intelligent races in the galaxy that doesn't look too good does it?"
"It's fine," I said. It was plenty understandable, thinking you're the best at everything you do when there's no one to compare to. "So are we going to start?"
"Yep! Just one more thing. Weapons and armor are important to this, even if you don't have to use them all the time." Andre flipped to a page with a list of item names which I couldn't make ears or tails of. I recognized 'sword', 'bow', and 'spear' as ancient primitive weapons, but other than that everything else escaped me.
"I'm noting a lot of confusion. Anything you need to know?" Andre looked at us expectantly.
"What's a 'maul'," came Sevkan's response.
"Oh, that's a term for a large, two-handed warhammer. Usually, it's depicted as spiked on both ends. Imagine a very large, very crude sledgehammer with spikey bits."
"And a 'glaive'?" Dad asked next.
"I assume you know what a sword is?" We flicked our ears in affirmation. "Well, it's essentially a curved sword attached to a pole. It's made to look a specific way, if it wasn't then it'd probably just be called a Dao. Or maybe the Dao would be called a glaive. Maybe Glaive is just a type of polearm. I have no idea. Anyway, to speed this up, I'll be choosing the weapons and armor you can have for you, and don't worry, I'll use your attitudes as a reference for what you get. For you, Vemnka, I think the mace and shield combo will do nicely with the scale mail. Kimmich, you'd work well with two long swords to accompany your chainmail armor. And finally, Sevkan, a halberd with your chainmail will work fine. Sound good to everyone?"
I was a little disappointed at the stolen opportunity to continue building my character, I'd yet to come up with a name or backstory, as I was sure was the norm, but with the idea of starting taking center stage, I couldn't help but wag my tail.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Sevkan, going down the rabbit hole
Andre put a thin plastic sheet over most of the table, took out a bundle of markers, and began drawing, much to our collective surprise.
The sheet was was smooth and cool to the touch, though not through any internal system, probably just from the back of the garage where Andre had found it. It had a grid printed over it, which Andre seemed to be using as a guide as he drew a boxy shape, marking certain areas with certain colors. There must have been a system he was following, one that none of us Venlil in the room had managed to pick up on, and we didn't want to interrupt Andre as we worked in case we caused him to mess up.
I looked over my character sheet, made mostly by Andre with small additions I felt like I needed to add. I still felt a little bad for not realizing how raw the image of a Krakotl must have been to Andre as I chose the Aarakocra, but he'd brushed it off swiftly and curtly, clearly not wanting to continue the line of thought. Still, I should've chosen a different race. The goliath looked cool and probably would have been a better fighter than a bird with hollow bones, but I also didn't want to drag the others much longer, so I kept silent.
At long last Andre stood at his full height and analyzed his work. "There we go. The battle map is set up, now for the tokens." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out three little white objects. I immediately recognized them as chess pieces. A rook, a knight, and a bishop were placed on the table, along with a dozen white pawns, some of which came from a different chess set, and four black pawns as well as a black king. The black pawns were marked with the colors, yellow, beige, green, and white. We quietly agreed which pieces we would be. Dad would be the knight, I would be the rook, and Vemnka would be the bishop.
Andre sat down and we began. "Alright, I've decided to pull the classic 'wake up in a tavern' DnD start because it's funny and I also didn't exactly plan this. So here we go. Please leave your questions for after I'm done talking."
"You wake up, each of you, around a wooden table in a comfortable tavern with candles above you and empty tankards before you. You look at each other and recognize if only barely, the friends you made last night through a bout of drinking and dancing. You feel the roaring of a hangover in your head as you each groan and attempt to lift your heads."
Andre pointed at the chess pieces, which must have represented our characters. "Please roll constitution to see if the hangover affects you in any major way. It's a d20 plus the number below the stat itself."
We looked at each other with slight confusion. Not at the command to roll, nor for its circumstance, but for the setting. Is this a human board game? I mean, I guess I expected something more akin to chess. but this is nothing like it. It's so... alien.
Dad rolled his d20 first; it landed on a 16, "An 18?"
"Yep, Kimmich, your character brushes off the hangover with ease. You still feel a buzzing in your head, but other than that, you're fit as a fiddle." Oh, I get it now. How interesting. I could see Dad and Vemnka twitch their ears in understanding as I rolled my d20.
It landed on 8. "Plus two, so an 11."
"Sevkan, your head hurts like hell but you're still able to function to a normal degree. If it weren't for your fellow drunkards you're sure you'd have to stumble around by your lonesome for a while."
Vemnka let out a laugh as she rolled her dice. While she had been aiming for the center of the table, the dice had other plans and shot off to the right, flying off the table and rolling under a stool in the kitchen. "Oops! I'll get it," she said, jumping out of her seat and lifting the stool. "It landed on 19," she beeped excitedly.
"Nope," Andre said, much to our surprise. "Rule two of dice: if it goes off the table, its results are null. I didn't make that rule, but I still follow it. Roll again."
Vemnka's ears drooped a bit, but she set herself and climbed back into her seat to roll again. This time the dice did as it was meant to and rolled across the table without falling off. It landed on... "A nat 20!"
"No shit?" Andre lept out of his chair to peer across the table toward the dice. "Well, I'll be damned, a 19 and a 20 in succession. Well, I guess you're just better than those other two. Your character's hangover is completely gone, you felt it for all but a second as you raise your head to see your Aarakocra companion still struggling with his."
"Is there anything I can do to help him?" She asked. Andre's lip curled upward slightly.
"Now you're getting it. It's a role-playing game. You have your roles, the ones you set up for yourself, and now you get to play them. And yes, there is something you can do to help. Roll me a medicine check. I'll add your modifier myself." The sound of a die rattling across the table ended with... "Another Nat 20?!"
We jumped at Andre's incredulous shout as he glared at the die before him. He seemed more angry at the dice than at Vemnka so I assumed we were probably not in trouble. How can we be? We didn't do anything that would make him angry. Why's he yelling?
"Sorry, but the chance of rolling two nat 20s in a row, while not astronomical, is pretty fucking low. Something like a one in four hundred chance, maybe more," Andre said, sitting back down and sighing deeply. "It's fine, just funny is all. Usually, RNJesus is on the DM's side, not the party's. Kinda nice to see a change of pace."
"RNJesus," we asked collectively.
"Don't worry about it, let's continue. Vemnka, you put your hand on Sevkan's shoulder and do some voodoo magic bullshit and pray to your god to heal his aching body. Miraculously, it works and Sevkan sits upright feeling light as a feather. The Aarakocra's headache is now on par with Kimmich's."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, now let's get on with it. As Sevkan gets up and shakes off the remaining ebbing in his head, you all notice five less-than-reputable figures sitting in a booth at the far end of the tavern. Each wears a hood or cowl accompanied by a cloak, which hides their race and weapons from you, however, you can tell that one of them is considerably larger than the others. If you had to, you'd place it at about 226 cm (7'5") while those around it are around the average human height of 180 cm (6'0"). Roll me perception too."
We looked at each other at the description but shrugged it off as we rolled. I rolled a 7, Dad rolled a 19, and Vemnka rolled a 17.
"Both of you," he said, pointing at Vemnka and Dad with one hand, "See that they are pointing in your direction while the big one holds a piece of paper in his hand. It shows artistic renditions of the three of you, along with a long string of words you can't make out from your current distance. Kimmich, you hear them talking about a bounty and that you are the specified targets. Now it's time for you to react, how do you want to move forward?"
"Well," Vemnka said nervously. I could see her tail flick in my direction, looking for guidance, but I had none. "I suppose I'll confront them? I'm not sure what a bounty is exactly..."
"Really?"
We looked at Andre and the obviousness of the situation. If we didn't know what a word was, we knew it must have been predatory. "Right, sorry. Bounties are orders given to hired people to hunt people. For one reason or another, if someone wants someone dead then they'll place a bounty on their head. I'm not sure if it was ever actually a thing, but bounty hunters were popular during the Wild West days of the US. They usually brought criminals in for trial though, and usually didn't kill them."
"Okay, but why do they want us dead," Dad asked, his ears falling back slightly.
"That's the neat part, you have no idea," Andre said as he leaned forward and moved the green-tipped black pawn a space on the map. "Vemnka, as you get up, you notice that one of the figures is moving towards the door with slight urgency. Before you can make a move, however, the large figure stands up and doffs his cloak, revealing the tattooed grey skin of a Goliath wielding a greatsword in the executioner's style. He shouts over the tavern for everyone other than your group to leave immediately as things are about to get bloody. His three other goons, the one moving toward the door exempt, move in unison towards you. Roll initiative. It's a d20, same as all the others."
I looked toward my sister to see her tail freaking out, her bishop is the closest to the enemy party, meaning she was more likely to be targeted first. I had to protect her, not only because of our sibling relationship but also because she could heal us if we got hurt. The three of us rolled as one, I got a 10, Dad a 14, and Vemnka got a 4. Andre himself rolled a few dice before moving the chess pieces into place and writing down something on a sheet of paper. "Alright, perfect. Initiative rolled, time to start combat. First up, yellow pawn."
He moved the pawn toward Vemnka's bishop, immediately putting her in danger. "One of the vagabonds rushes you, Vemnka, and you see the flash of Tabaxi claws as they raise their hand to strike at you." Andre's dice rolled, clattering to a halt inside the pad on his end, obscuring the results. "Does a 14 hit?"
"How do I check that," she asked, her tail going even crazier. Though, I couldn't tell if it was excitement or panic.
"AC," Andre responded flatly, "Armor Class."
"Right, yep." She looked down at her paper and flicked he ears 'no' then shook her head.
"The Tabaxi's claws swipe right above your head and miss by a hair. You can even feel the air move past you as you flinch backward. Next, the Goliath moves toward you, hefting his greatsword. Kimmich, if looks could kill, you'd be halfway to Valhalla by now. He glares at you with a mighty fire in his eyes. It's hard to tell, but you think he might have it out for you. He takes a swing with his sword and..." Andre rolled and looked back up at the table, his eyes focusing rather intensely on the black king representing the Goliath. "Meh, Nat 1. He swings and you dodge, causing his swing to miss wildly and land on the Tabaxi nearby. She takes," he rolls, "A sizable chunk of damage as blood flows from her lower abdomen."
"Wouldn't she be writhing in pain right now," Dad asked, pointing to the yellow-topped pawn.
"In real life? Yes. Here? I control the game, and while she is certainly hurt, she still has enough will to fight. Money is a powerful incentive for some people, especially bandits and vagabonds. Next, Sevkan, you notice the flash of steel as a dehooded human rushes you with a shortsword in hand. He has a keen eye and sharp nose, but your reflexes are faster as you dodge his swipe. He stumbles a bit, but recovers before you have a chance to harm him." Andre looks at Dad, who doesn't even seem to register the human's gaze as he looks over his sheet. "Kimmich, it's your turn. You can attack, retreat, use a spell-"
"Divine smite the Goliath, I'll use Divine Smite on the Goliath."
Andre lets out a chuckling laugh, "Now we're talkin'. Let's do this. Roll for attack."
Dad rolled, and I watched as the dice skipped across the table and finally landed on 11. "Plus five, so 16."
"Very good, that is a successful hit. Please roll both damage and the Divine Smite's 2d8."
Dad rolled his d8 three separate times, coalescing in a massive 18 damage, a 7, an 8, and a 3. "18 damage total against the Goliath."
Andre did a weird whistle as he marked down the information on what I could only assume was the stat sheet for the enemies. "18 against big guy. Sevkan, your turn. D-"
"Actually," Dad interrupted, "it says here that I have an extra action and a bonus action."
"Oh."
"So I'm going to attack him again."
"Okay."
Dad rolled another d8 which landed 6 side up. "Another six damage and I end my turn."
"Thank you, finally. Sevkan, go, please. Attack or... Well, all you can do is attack." Andre leaned back in his chair, stare planted squarely on me. I looked down at my sheet for any actions I had. I had a normal and bonus action, and that was it. I looked at the section marked features and traits and noticed that I could do three actions with action surge. "Alright, I'll attack three times. Twice with my halberd using action surge and once with that dagger, you forgot to give everyone that we all had the option to take." I glared right back at him.
"Yes, I didn't give you all the tools you could have had because it would have just wasted more time. But fine, if you want to use it, fine. It's a d6 slashing damage."
I rolled the 2d10 for damage. One landed on 8 while the other landed on 9. My d6 lands true on a 4. "21 damage to the beige-tipped pawn. That's the human, right?"
"Yep," Andre nodded as he wrote down the damage. "You take two swipes at the human with your halberd, both connect with both his arms and torso, slowing him considerably. It's only when he remains standing that you pull your dagger from its sheath and plunge it into his chest. You miss his heart by millimeters, but it does the job as he collapses in a pool of blood. Congrats, first knockout of the game."
I shudder at Andre's description of my character, who might as well be interchangeable with a Krakotl, killing a man. A human, for that matter. I look over to see Dad glaring daggers at Andre and Vemnka staring at me worriedly. I wave her off with my tail and focus back on Andre.
"Retribution is in store for you, though, as an Elf leaps over a table with two daggers drawn, ready to avenge her slain comrade. She..." Andre rolls and whoops as he punches a fist into the air. "She comes down with blinding speed and rakes her metal blades across your chest," He rolls again and lets out a slightly disappointed 'oh' before continuing. "You take a total of 8 damage from the Elf's daggers."
Andre, once again, leans forward, this time to remove the beige-tipped pawn from the table and replace it with a red cross, as well as move the green tipped toward where all the white pawns were. I assumed the gap in the markings must have been a door, as Andre had moved all the white pawns out of it when combat started. The green pawn must be escaping or blocking ours. Either way, we have to deal with the three remaining in front of us before we can handle that one.
"I see gears turning, always a good sign, but let's continue. Vemnka your combat turn. Make it count. You can use your bonus action to heal or attack with your mace, it doesn't matter as long as you do a different action when using it."
Vemnka looks over at me, then to the board with a contemplative look. "I'd like to use my first action to bless the two of them, then I'd like to use my bonus action to bonk the -what did you call it?"
"A Tabaxi."
"Yeah, that, I want to bonk that." Her tail swayed with contentment as she rolled her damage dice. It rolled into the batch of white pawns before landing on 6.
"Ouph, 'fraid that's not gonna be enough to hit anyone, but, Kimmich, Sevkan, both of you can now roll a d4 to accompany your attack roll." He flicked his d4 into the air but somehow missed it as it fell. It clattered onto the table and got flung into the living room as Andre tried to grab it. "Fuck, alright, hold on. Damned carpet's gonna be the death of me."
He went looking for the die, leaving us Venlil staring at the table before us.
"So what do you think," I asked abruptly.
"I don't know," Dad responded, his tone careful but gruff. "It's very clearly predatory. I mean, we wake up in a tavern after a night of drinking so hard our heads feel like they're about to explode and once the hangover clears we've got a band of roughnecks out for blood from the get-go." He squinted at the chess pieces representing our characters, they were all next to each other. "And I can't even really argue that we should stop because I'm fine with what's being depicted. Even if his description of you... knocking out that human was a bit over the top, I think that's the point."
"I agree," Vemnka spoke up, "The whole game is very fantastical, not meant to be compared to real life. I mean, sure, the concept of bounty hunters is a real thing, but I don't think there are humans as tall as that Goliath walking around. Or whatever a Tabaxi is."
"Fantastical and weird. If those don't describe humanity, I don't know what does," I said with a bemused flick of my tail.
"How about tired of hearing you talk about me behind my back," Andre's voice shouted from behind the couch, where he was scrounging for the lost die. Finally, he seemed to have found it, poking his head out from the backrest and looking over at us. "I'm joking of course, I don't mind at all. Unless you're insulting my taste in music, then we'll have a problem."
"I-I mean it's just-"
"Not for everyone, yadda yadda yadda. Anyway," Andre stood up, holding the d4 in his hand. "Lets continue. Tabaxi time." He took his seat and leaned forward to adjust the white pawns before rolling the hit dice. "Bruh. Another Nat 1. And here I was imagining the Goliath and Tabaxi to be the leaders of the group. Whatever. The Tabaxi attempts another swipe at you, or so it appears because she ends up cat-scratching the arm of the Goliath next to her. That's five damage, and it moves to the Goliath who is slightly pissed at everyone except for the Elf, who's, y'know, actually put in some work. The Goliath makes a wide swing, hoping to cut you all down in one fell swoop." He rolls the d20 three more times, once with a 'whoop' of success, another with a 'aww' of failure, and a final with a 'oh come the fuck on.' I could only assume it was a horrible failure. Andre's sigh fills the room. "Alright, Kimmich, you take 18 damage, he crit succeeded. Sevkan, you take no damage, and instead duck low as the swipe passes over you. Vemnka, you feel the blade move over you, but it does not connect due to your short stature. No, instead, he once again hits the fucking Tabaxi with his swing because he crit failed. Again. And because the human is no longer available to fight, it's now your turn Kimmich."
"I would like to smite again."
"Oh fuck, right you get two 1st level spell slots." Andre almost sounded annoyed when it was brought up, but relented nonetheless. "Take the hit dice."
Dad rolled, and it landed on 14. He rolled the d4 for the blessing Vemnka gave us. It landed on a 3. "Plus the five-"
"Yeah, yeah, it hits. Roll me damage."
"I'm sensing some hostilities from you," Dad said smugly.
"I'm starting to understand why my DMs hated being DMs, that's all. Please, fuck up that Goliath." And so he did, rolling a 15 in total. "You swing one of your longswords upward and cleave the Goliath's jaw in two, but he does not die. A mere flesh wound such as that would do little to dampen the giant-kin's will. No, what killed him was the bright light that engulfed his head after the strike landed. His face was the first to go as he tried to breathe through the holy flames surrounding him. His screams ended abruptly as his larynx melted away, leaving only writhing agony. He died a pitiable death in all fairness, as any sinner does. The second knockout of the game goes to Kimmich. Yay."
Again, the feeling of discomfort appeared as Andre described in unnecessary detail the visual of... someone burning alive. Oh stars, he planned that out, didn't he?
"Let's move on. Sev, your turn. First, lemme see you all roll perception again."
I rolled a 10 while both Dad and Vemnka rolled 16s. Adding modifiers made their 16s into 19s. "Alright. Again, Vemnka and Kimmich only, you see the figure who'd been moving toward the door at the beginning of the fight, now make a break for it as the Goliath collapses into a burnt-out husk. His hood is removed by the movement revealing it to be a green-scaled Dragonborn." Andre moves the Dragonborn's piece next to the door and through it, stopping it just within our sightlines. "He has a chance to escape, will you let him?" He looked at us expectantly.
I turned to Dad to see him eyeing the piece like a fresh firefruit. "Dad, no. If he leaves then that leaves the Elf and the Tub- Taba- Tabasi, whatever it's called. We can end this soon." Vemnka put her tail on his shoulder in an attempt to get his attention. He flinches at the touch and lowers his raised fur.
"Yes, yeah. Let him go," he says hoarsely.
"Alright, letting the Dragonborn go. Now it's Sev's turn. Go ahead and do something about his pesky elf." Andre moves the Elf's pawn a bit to put it back on the right square.
I shrug, attempting to fight off the conflicting feelings. On one paw, it's a game and no one is going to get hurt by me doing these things. But on the other, if I do this willingly does that make me any better than someone who would kill in real life?
Andre's voice snapped me out of my stupor. "Don't overthink it. It's a game, and this situation is self-defence. Kimmich is the only person here who's killed someone so far. The human will probably live in prison and the Dragonborn might find new meaning in life. It's not like any of this properly reflects the real world anyway. Just focus on the game, nothing more, nothing less."
I shook my body to rid myself of those thoughts and rolled my d20 and d4 from the blessing. "18 to hit."
"And hit it does. Halberd is a go!"
With another roll, it lands on a zero. "Got a 0?"
"Oh, yeah, the model I imposed the numbers on only uses one character for each side, but that's a 10. Good roll. Elf takes 10 damage and doesn't like you right now. I'm super tired of talking, so I'll just roll the hit dice. She attacks you for 19. Your AC is 19. Meets it beats it, that's a hit. Rolling damage, she lands a solid blow of 9 damage for her twin daggers. Now both you and Kimmich should have 3 health. Vem, your turn."
"Hit the tab?"
"Hit the tab."
"Hitting tab." Vemnka rolled her d20 and it landed on a 19. "19 plus whatever, I already know it hits."
"That it does," Andre responded. With a flick of his wrist, he knocks over the Tabaxi's pawn and places a cross where it was, he does the same with the Goliath's king. "Wait, why did you do that? I hadn't rolled damage."
"The Tabaxi had one health, there's no feasible way you do zero damage when rolling a dice with no zero on it. Anyway, let's wrap this up, it feels like we've been at this forever. Kimmich, your turn."
Dad sighed a deep whistling sigh. "I'll just roll to attack the Elf." He rolled his two dice, one landed on a 12 and the other landed on a 7, plus the 5 to his hits. "17 and 12. Rolling damage for that 17."
"Roll for both, the Elf's AC isn't that high."
"Really," I asked, bewildered.
"Really. The Goliath had the most AC at 16, but meets it beats it and Kimmich met it in the first round." The clack of dice interrupted him as Dad rolled his two damage die. Andre leaned forward to announce the numbers. "A total of 13. Congratulations, the three of you have just won a skewed encounter of DnD."
"Skewed encounter?"
"The Goliath had 40 health while everyone other than the Tabaxi had 20. The Tabaxi had 17. The Goliath had an AC of 16 while the rest had between 12 and 14. At least one of you should have died. I was betting on Kimmich because I had the Goliath go after him, but the nat 1s kinda stopped that from happening." Andre shook his prosthetic hands and brought them up to his chin. "Anyway, I'm dead tired. Never want to do that again, ever."
"I can't say I'm in the same cruiser as you, I found it quite fun, even with the gruesome descriptions," I said, probably unconvincingly. I did have fun, but it was a lot to take in all at once.
"I had fun too. Just, if we do do this again, try to tone back the predatory stuff. The fighting was fine, but the description was a bit... spot on I think." Vemnka's tail curled a bit as she probably imagined the images Andre described in her head.
Dad only gave a small 'hmph' as he scooted off his chair and went toward our rooms.
"Well," Andre started, "that's about what I expected from a bunch of scared space sheep."
I let out a whistle as Vemnka gently lowered herself to the ground, marched up to Andre, and bopped him on the thigh with all her might.
===================END=TRANSCRIPTION===================
submitted by Mini_Tonk to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 16:15 CheeseElf Agent Concept: Kuro

Name: Kuro (meaning Black in Japanese)
Role: Initiator
Concept: Japanese agent that utilizes darkness & vision blocking as her main mechanic (think Viper ultimate/omen blind). Alternative to flash entry intiators. Character design would be something like Akali from league.
Abilites:
1). Q - Shadow Doppler: Kuro summons & takes control of a shadow doppler at the target location. The shadow can move around, revealing enemy positions, and reduces the vision range of any enemies standing within 5m of it to 30m.
Functions like a sky dog; can be shot and has 140HP (headshot-able).
Targetting: Similar to omen TP, except can be summoned through walls.
Uses: 1
2). E - Paper Bomb Kunai: Kuro equips a paper bomb Kunai that sticks to walls. The Kunai explodes after 0.35s when stuck to a wall or traveling max distance – instantly blinding all enemies that view it. The projectile is invisible to enemies until it begins to explode.
Unlike other flashes, it reduces the vision of enemies to 5m for 1 second instead of full blinding, and does not affect allies. Can be turned (but must be fully turned to avoid effect).
Targetting: Fires in a straight line up to 50m, with no drag, until hitting a wall or exploding . Right click to explode the flash after traveling 5m (like a pop-flash).
Uses: 2
3). C - Shroud Bomb: Kuro equip a smoke bomb that can be thrown -- releasing a black-smog that expands outward and forms around walls up to 10m. The effect is similar to a viper ult -- where everyone inside has reduced vision.
Targetting: Trajectory path is exactly like Kayo molly, except it bounces around a little when landing.
Uses: 1
4). X/Ultimate - Enshroud: Kuro calls upon the power of her shadows and marks a target area. All enemies within the target area are tagged by Kuro, and have seeking shadow-Kunai’s home-in and strike them, revealing their positions and blinding them for 1.5 seconds.
The reveal is like a cypher camera tag, except triggers faster, while the blind is similar to an omen blind
Targeting: Orbital ability, like Brimstone ultimate, except slightly larger and casts faster.
Ult points: 8
submitted by CheeseElf to VALORANT [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 16:14 landen91 Escape artist gerbil

Escape artist gerbil
Hello all! To keep a long story short, I'm a first-time gerbil owner. I have been having my oldest one for probably going on 2 years. She, along with 2 of her pups that I kept from her second litter, all live in the same tank (see pictures.) as of a week ago, the mom has chewed through the wire mesh of the tank lid twice, and was found running around on top of the lid. My gerbils have everything that I know of that they could possibly need, plenty of food, water, treats, toilet papepaper towel rolls, plenty of bedding (around 1 foot on average) a deluxe wooden wheel, sand bath, i take them out of the cage at least a few times a week, they generally seem very happy and social, as they will all three climb into my hand and let me pet them, and come out to see me when I call for them or shake the snack bag. What could cause momma to want to gnaw her way out of the cage? She has never done anything like this. The only variable in their lives that has changed recently was me moving across country a few months ago, but they have been perfectly fine up until this point. They get much more sunlight, if that helps. I put duct tape on the holes in the mesh until I figure this out, and have been keeping a much closer eye on them. Any advice is appreciated!
submitted by landen91 to gerbil [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 16:06 Ok_Buy8936 How many of you cum inside their foreskin after jerking off ?

I just pinch it to contain all the fluid and then go up to the toilet and clean it with some toilet paper. I find this great since you make absolutely zero mess. Am I the only one ? I’ve never heard any one else do this , and I’ve often heard guys talk about using socks or other weird stuff . Does anyone else do this?
submitted by Ok_Buy8936 to TooAfraidToAsk [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 15:23 The_AvgPenis47 Do you put toilet paper on the seat when you shit in public/ outside your home and why?

submitted by The_AvgPenis47 to AskReddit [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 15:07 Quiz_Master_Boy These are my new OC's!

  1. Folder (60)
  2. Sock (61)
  3. Coffee (62)
  4. Christmas Tree (63)
  5. Flag (64)
  6. Grape (65)
  7. Juicey (66)
  8. Log (67)
  9. Marker (68)
  10. Bucket (69)
  11. Basketball (70)
  12. Candle (71)
  13. Waffle (72)
  14. Spikey (73)
  15. Card (74)
  16. Speech Bubble (75)
  17. App Logo (76)
  18. Dog Treat (77)
  19. Fortune Cookie (78)
  20. Toilet Paper (79)
  21. Snow Globe (80)
  22. Envelope (81)
  23. Lock (82)
  24. Japanese Flag (83)
  25. Hanger (84)
Retiring OC's:
Just Fishbowl.
60+25-1=84 OC's added.
submitted by Quiz_Master_Boy to ObjectShows [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 15:04 StopDownloadin But Wait, There's More! 1/?

Had this idea bouncing around in my head about the little ferret guy, Etholin Esila. I figured with him being a 'merchant lord' he'd want to start cutting deals with Emma once the initial curiosity and amazement over Earth tech would have passed. Not sure where this is going, if anywhere, but just wanted to get it out of my head and onto 'paper'.
Thanks to u/DndQuickQuestion for helping with feedback on earlier drafts.
Afternoon Transgracian Academy of Magical Arts
The hulking minotaur loomed menacingly over me. "Crawling along the floor suits you well, Merchant Lord Etholin Esila!” it boomed in an intimidating baritone. “Merchant Lord, pfah! Even a mangy cur such as that Mercenary Prince has a legacy of valor and martial prowess behind his dubious title, but you?”
An accusatory finger was jabbed in my direction. “Nothing but puffery and bluster to buttress your status as a glorified shopkeep! Your ilk claims to broker fair trade between the Realms, but those with integrity and honor recognize the deceit you employ to conjure false value from nothing." It was difficult to tell if Lord Auris Ping's tirade was aimed more at myself, the Esila clan, or the concept of inter-realm commerce in general.
At the moment, I was more concerned with herding my scattered belongings back into my satchel. While rushing to my next appointment, I had the dubious privilege of colliding with this mountain of a brute. Naturally I was on the losing side of that contest, and was sent tail over head to the floor, scattering the contents of my school satchel across the polished granite. Not one to pass up the chance at a crass display of dominance, Lord Ping had launched into the rant that everyone in earshot was currently enduring.
"Look at you, scrabbling on the floor to fetch your little trinkets, a fitting match for your base and covetous nature!" Fairly pedestrian, as far as character assassination went. I’d been called far worse while helping Father with trade negotiations, sometimes at sword or stave point. One had to develop quite a thick hide when engaging in cross-realm commerce. Especially with many realms having rather… absolutist opinions about the value of goods, like Lord Ping here. But I had zero interest in contesting his assertions, despite how idiotic they were.
Haggling or arguing with Pronarthians was a singularly wretched experience. They were infamous across the Realms for their single-mindedness and a compulsive need to have the last word that bordered on lunacy. I didn’t have the patience for the endless ingratiating flattery required to bore through such stubbornness. If that wasn’t enough, a gentleman of my stature also had to consider Pronarthians’ sizeism; specifically their intrinsic respect for the larger and taller races.
And that was merely the average Pronarthian! Arguing with a belligerent lout, accustomed to deference as Lord Ping? I'd sooner try my hand at flying out the nearby window. At least the loamy soil below would give me a fighting chance, or a jagged rock would grant me the mercy of a swift end.
Instead, I busied myself putting my things in order, taking special care with one item in particular. It was a set of memory crystals I received from the Earthrealmer, Cadet Emma Booker. It was part of a ‘transdimensional cultural exchange pilot program,’ as she had described it with her nation’s peculiar bureaucratic jargon. I had previously conducted similar transactions in my initial dealings with Cadet Booker, and it was those first tentative steps that convinced me to make Cadet Booker a full-fledged premiere trade partner of the Ocean Breeze Trading Company, the pride of the Esila clan.
The myriad tomes and treatises from Earthrealm, such as the riveting "The Wealth of Nations," amply demonstrated that Earthrealm had an extremely sophisticated understanding of commerce, finance, and logistics. But it was the ‘video archive footage,’ transferred onto memory crystals for ease of viewing, that convinced me at a visceral level that these Earthrealmers were a sound investment. I felt it on my whisker-tips, as the commoners back home would say.
"May I offer a helping hand, Lord Esila?" inquired a familiar voice. I looked up to see a scaly, clawed hand extended toward me. “And perhaps a sympathetic ear? After all, that was a rather nasty bit of slander from Lord Ping, would you not agree?”
Wonderful. This nonsense again.
While I had been lost in thought contemplating Ocean Breeze’s latest windfall, Lord Ping seemed to have lost interest and resumed going about his business. Taking his place, as always, was Lord Qiv Ratom, ever ready to sift through the rubble of Lord Ping's latest ham-fisted antics for personal gain. "You will find that my views differ considerably from Lord Ping's. I, for one, admire the manner in which you extract value from your trade partners. After all, does it not require skill and cunning to convince the customer that your wares are worth far greater than their true value? Such nuance and subtlety is lost on the likes of Auris Ping, content to strong-arm what he desires from others."
I paused for a moment, at a loss for words. His tone suggested his 'praise' was sincere, but only stoked my ire further. What in the thrice-damned Hells did he think he was accomplishing? Did he really think that telling me, "Well, I still regard you as a thief, but I APPRECIATE your thieving nature, unlike that uncouth lout!" was going to win me over? Dealing with parties with this attitude to commerce and trade was tedious at best. But ever since making acquaintances with Cadet Booker, whose people's understanding and appreciation of commerce rivaled the Nexians, dealing with the likes of Ping and Ratom was nigh UNBEARABLE.
I rattled off the usual rigmarole we used at Ocean Breeze for clients we wished to keep at arm's length. "With respect, Lord Ratom, the value of the goods we sell is determined by the customer's needs and circumstances. The merchants of my clan arbitrate prices taking such factors into consideration. We see it as our responsibility to provide equitable trade that is not only beneficial to all parties, but also provides fair compensation for the tradesmen involved in executing the transaction."
"But of course, it is as you say," replied Lord Ratom with his signature oily charisma. "Fair and equitable trade, according to the customer's circumstances. Thus, you are but a facilitator of the Fates, a most humble tool of Destiny itself. And one who collects a respectable commission, at that," he continued. He stopped short of winking conspiratorially, but the impish grin playing across his features was a fine substitute. Every mote of my being wanted to shake him until he shed his skin. He continued, "Your... humility aside, my admiration of your clan's cunning and resourcefulness still stands. The insight of one so skilled is always welcome within my inner circle, should you wish to grace us with your presence."
It took all my restraint to not tell him into which orifice he could jam his charity-case friendship offer. After all, I'd been keeping far better and more like-minded company of late. Company that the Baralonian lord was likely dying to ingratiate himself with, given how Cadet Booker and her peer group had taken pains to keep Lord Ratom and his entourage of gossips at arm’s length. Instead, I left the smug reptile’s offer dangling in the air, twisting in the wind for a few agonizing moments while I finished tidying my things. Rising to my feet, I finally replied, "An offer most generous and kind. I will of course, have to consider the circumstances of both customer and merchant. Surely you would not begrudge a humble servant of Fate for waiting for the most auspicious circumstances?" Even at my best, I was hardly a master of rhetoric, so crudely tossing his words back at him was the best I could do.
"As you please, Lord Esila," replied Lord Ratom, finally sensing his return on investment wouldn't be worthwhile, leaving me alone to stew in the hallway. Such was the game played among the aristocracy. I looked down at the bundle of memory crystals in my hands, contemplating on their origin, and how Earthrealm could change how the Esila clan, perhaps even all of Rontalis, played the game.
I continued on my way, thoughts heavy once more.
Evening Ocean Breeze Trading Company, Elaseer Offices, Private Chambers
The Elaseer branch office of the Ocean Breeze Trading Company was a modest affair by Nexian standards, a second-storey affair nestled on the edge of the warehouse district. The restrained yet tasteful trappings were a calculated decision of the Esila clan, proprietors of the trading company. A fine balance had to be struck when it came to outward appearances, after all. Some measure of artful decoration was necessary to appease the Nexian eye’s obsession with projecting might and wealth, but not so much that it would attract too much attention.
Only in the private chambers would a guest finally see some personality in the decor, and a generous measure at that. These were the chambers of the nobleman assigned stewardship of these offices, Lord Rikad Esila, uncle to Etholin Esila. Colorful murals with aquatic motifs adorned the walls, highlighted with tastefully matching lacquered panels featuring artwork done in mother-of-pearl inlay. Similar decor was present in the dining room, where uncle and nephew were currently enjoying what Rikad thought would be a leisurely dinner.
CRACK!
The sharp sound rang out loud and clear in the small room, the source being a steamed crab claw, dashed to pieces on a smooth river stone placed between the two diners at the table.
Lord Rikad's branch of the Esila line hailed from the wetlands of Rontalis that opened up into the sea, and they regularly partook of the ocean's bounty. In antiquity, they were known to smash shellfish and other armored morsels against stones they carried with them to lay bare the tasty prizes within. This dining set configuration was a modern interpretation of that old tradition, with a communal stone for guests to open their shellfish.
Of course, such a homestyle service was available solely behind closed doors and shuttered windows and only then to Rikad and his close associates. Here in the Crownlands, such a 'barbarous and unseemly' artifact would be frowned upon by the prevailing Nexian culture and their gold and mother-of-pearl seafood forks that split the shell with a simple tap. But young Etholin labeled that languid dining as a boring conversational backdrop, inferior to the communal excitement of a well-placed strike.
Etholin’s spirited strike had a strong measure of anger behind it, a fact not lost on Rikad. "Steady now, lad. The aim is to crack the shell, not grind it to powder," chided Rikad, an otter clothed in well-tailored robes that melded practicality with muted elegance. He looked aged and gray compared to the ferret-like Etholin, clad in sumptuous silks and embroidery that assertively declared the young lord’s wealth and standing. Etholin hung his head in embarrassment. "Apologies, Uncle. I lost the reins of my temper."
"Well now, aggravated enough to make a mess of my dining set," observed the older gentleman. "It takes a great deal to get your humors churning like this, from my experience. So tell me lad, what urchin needles you?"
"Ugh, more Academy theatrics, what else? With Lords Auris Ping and Qiv Ratom being today’s star players."
"Ah, The Dunce and the Devil," remarked Rikad, nodding with understanding. This wasn't the first time his nephew had related the pestilent pair’s antics. "What two-act farce did they put on this time?"
"Ping opened with the usual blather about merchants being honorless tricksters, with Ratom swooping in to capitalize on the aftermath. Textbook at this point, really," explained Etholin, waving his hand dismissively. "It... it was just the way those two put forward their thoughts. In isolation, each would have been merely irritating. But with one following the other, I was ready to grind my fangs to nubs! To be cursed as a thief on one side, only to be praised as a thief on the other! It was like they were wielding ignorance as one would a greatsword, and managed to cut me with both edges! Gods, I wanted to THROTTLE the idiocy out of them!"
"‘Tis to be expected," said Rikad in consolation. "A great many noble families, even entire Realms at times, came about their status through force of arms or magical prowess, and thus they hold a dim view of commerce as a profession. It is a routine chore for us, navigating around them to find those with less absolutist views on the worth of goods, or more forgiving definitions of 'honest work'. An Adjacent Realm that does not cheat its creditors by altering the weight of its coins or debasing them with base metals and insisting otherwise while hiding behind the safety of their portal is worth its weight in gold."
"Sometimes I feel we ought to cut them out of our affairs entirely and deal with the Nexians, directly and exclusively," mused Etholin bitterly.
"Now, now, though your anger is justified, that's hardly reason for it to take hold of your mind's rudder," cautioned Rikad with a frown. "The Nexians have well-developed philosophies on trade in line with our own, but we only have the resources of a single Realm at our disposal, while the Nexians can leverage the bounty of their never-ending and mana-rich lands. Dealing solely with a behemoth that can devour us with a thought, no matter how frictionless those dealings are, is hardly my idea of a beneficial partnership."
Etholin sighed. "As always, your counsel is sensible, Uncle. Like I said, I lost the reins of my temper in a moment of weakness."
"Don't be so sour on things like this, lad. Our base nature gets the better of us at times, that is the animal within that we all struggle with. That you acknowledged such a lapse and took back the helm is proof that civility prevails. But, enough moping about!" Rikad jumped out of his seat with a little pep in his step. "Looks like we need to guide you back into good spirits, and I know JUST the thing for gentlemen such as us," concluded the elder merchant, twirling his whiskers playfully.
"Somehow I think a night at the theater or music halls will do little for me, Uncle. Or are you suggesting we seek respite at the bottom of a tankard?"
Rikad snorted derisively. "Oh please, I'm not senile yet, pup! Since when has SPENDING money brought joy to anyone worthy of the Esila name?" That made Elothin perk up a bit. Rikad continued, "No, I speak of a PROPER good time, I speak of..."
"COMMERCE!" they cried out in unison, fists held aloft in a triumphant pose. "Does that mean..." began Etholin.
"Indeed, we've just received the latest prototypes for the centralized mana ampoule, linking cords, and so-called 'mana motors'. Perfectly timed with the parts delivery from Cadet Booker not two days ago. Sukie, be a dear and clear this up, and have the remainder bundled up and sent to the young master's rooms at the Academy." Rikad motioned for the housekeepers to clear the table, then ushered Etholin to his private offices where they could discuss business strategy in depth.
Uncle Rikad’s offices were more than just a cozy place where Etholin could get a taste of home. Officially, Rikad was stationed here to oversee the administration of this branch office of the Ocean Breeze Trading Company. In reality, the office was a means to circumvent the Academy's prohibition against students communicating regularly with their home realm. Many aristocratic families employed similar cheats and dodges involving ‘familial duties’ and ‘business obligations’ to skirt the rules. If the Nexians cared about closing such loopholes, they didn’t show it. Perhaps the quaint maneuverings of their lessers amused the elves, who could say?
In this case, Rikad and Etholin were leveraging this loophole to the fullest, as they strategized on how to execute the next steps of their latest commercial venture, which Rikad would then relay to the head offices in Rontalis. As their planning session drew to a close, Rikad remarked on the time. “Well, it would seem that evening has fast become night. You are welcome to stay overnight here, as always, or perhaps you would prefer to retire to the Academy dormitories? Either way, I doubt you’d want to watch an old man doze off in his reading room listening to music.”
At the mention of leisure time, Etholin's eyes widened in surprise, and he began rooting around in his satchel. "Oh goodness, I entirely forgot!"
"What is it, lad?"
"Oh, Cadet Booker has provided us with more of her 'video archive files', transcribed to memory crystal," explained Etholin as he produced the set of crystals from his satchel, perfectly sized for the compact projection device that Rikad kept in his rooms.
"Ah, splendid! Another of the young lady's documentary presentations on commerce? Or perhaps one of her theatrical serials? Both are fine ways to while away the night."
“I’m not sure, but Cadet Booker said we would enjoy them a great deal,” said Etholin as he placed the crystal into the office's projector. As the machine spooled up, a moving image was cast onto the whitewashed wall across the room. As with all Earthrealm recordings, it was entirely mundane, bereft of any sign of manafields. Compared to mana based memory shards, Earthrealm recordings felt like faded sketches. None of that hindered the recording's impact on the viewers.
"Hoh? This is-" exclaimed Rikad, eyes lighting up in recognition.
An Earthrealmer with a thick, lustrous beard strode into view, his confidence and enthusiasm palpable despite the muted colors of the recording. The Earthrealmer’s voice rang out from the projector, carrying that same confidence and infectious enthusiasm like a barker worthy of the title of Grand Master.
Rikad and Etholin cheered in unison.
"HI! BILLY MAYS HERE, WITH ANOTHER GREAT PRODUCT!"
submitted by StopDownloadin to JCBWritingCorner [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 14:58 fukwalgreens Theatro rant

OMFG my SM needs to stfu about me getting the fucking theatro. I'm a tech, not a store front employee. Why the hell do I need to wear an ear piece every shift? Is it so important that I hear that upfront is out of toilet paper and that photo needs help while I'm counting CIIs? When I'm working the line, it's so much harder to hear people because of it, and same for phone calls. Like I have some stupid irrelevant shit in my left ear and a phone call with a patient yelling at me in my right ear. I've probably had theatro be useful like 3 times in my entire time working here... and it was for code 99s (because no one responses to IC3s no matter what). Fuck theatro, fuck my SM, and fuck walgreens and their dumbass policies.
Love my pharmacy coworkers tho ❤️
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2024.06.01 14:46 InternalVermicelli73 Symptom of my hem or something else?

I posted a few months ago about a hemorrhoid I had. Mild bleeding 🩸 but only seen on the toilet paper. It stopped bothering me for a few weeks, started bothering me again, and for right now has been calm.
That being said, since this started (TMI) when I do poop, it seems I can never wipe it all away? Like think I did but then there’s always a stain in my underwear and it’s super embarrassing. It doesn’t happen if I haven’t gone to the bathroom so I know I’m not like leaking anything.
I’m assuming it’s the way the hem dangles and I’m not getting everything off of it? Does anyone else experience this?
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2024.06.01 14:46 Chai_Ky The Case of Kate Blackwell: The Unknown Part 3 (Finale)

11/20/2017
Log book of Det. Ryan Snow
Case #2798: The Appalachian Murders
When I woke up, I was in such a haze that I couldn’t make out where I was at first. My vision was a blur and all I could hear was the sounds of rushing water. I tried to move my limbs, but each muscle down to my little finger felt like lead weighing down on me, making it hard to breathe.
It felt like forever before the ringing in my ear was slowly swallowed out by a voice crying out from what sounded like a distance only to grow louder as it seemed to approach me from the void I had woken up in. It wasn’t until I heard my name that I recognized it was Kate’s voice, pleading and filled with tears.
I blinked away the blur, finding myself staring up at a water damaged ceiling, a single yellow light brightening the room. My head was pounding and my body still felt heavy, but I moved my head enough to turn and see where Kate was calling from. It took a moment, but I soon realized that she was lying on her back, strapped by her arms and legs to a metal table, looking to me with wide terrified eyes.
“Detective, please help!” She cried out. “Please don’t be dead! Please help me!”
“Bl-Black…Well…” I groaned out as I tried, painfully, to pick myself up off the stone floor, “Black…Well… Ah… Shit… Shit! Ms. Blackwell-“ I was gaining consciousness minute by minute as I finally took in the situation and got to my feet. However, the moment I had gotten to my feet and began running to Kate only to immediately fall back to the floor once again, my ankle getting caught by something heavy. I turned to see my ankle had been shackled to the floor by a cuff and chains. I searched my person to find my coat, along with my Glock had been taken, blood decorating my pants and sleeves. I placed a palm to my forehead to find blood when I lowered it down to look at the warm liquid slithering down from my scalp.
“Ms. Blackwell,” I returned my attention to her, examining what I could from my place on the floor, “are you alright, are you hurt?”
“I… I… I don’t… Don’t think so…” she managed to whine out.
“Where’s Mr. Raines?”
To this question, Kate looked away from me, sobbing being her only verbal response.
I went back to the shackles on my ankle and began trying to yank the chains off from the floor, but they had been well maintained and were too strong for me to simply yank out of the stone. I then quickly looked around the room to find we were in a different basement from the one in Cabin #3, though it had the same kind of layout, the table the only major difference. I also took note of the blood stains that trailed from the sides of the table and the dried pools below.
“I want my mom!” Kate cried out, her voice echoing in the empty room.
“I’ll get you to her, I will, I promise,” I assured her, trying to find something, anything to get us out of this, “do you remember how we got down here?”
“I… I… I just re-remember… Remember you g-getting knocked out… Knocked out by someone and them… Them putting a rag over me… Then everything went black… Then I woke… Woke up… H-Here…” Kate answered, trying to breathe with each sob she let out. “I… I th-thought… y-you… You were d-d-… Dead!”
“I’m not, I’m very much alive and I’m going to get you out of here and back to your parents,” I vowed as I continued looking for a way out of this situation, “we’re going to get you out of here, get you home, and we’ll make sure no one ever gets hurt here ever-“
The sound of the basement door from the splintered wooden steps cut me off. I listened as feet descended down the steps to the basement below, Kate’s ragged breaths the only other sound. The person who came down was a woman. The same exact woman from the photo I had found in her house. She looked as if she had not aged since that photo was taken, despite how long ago it seemed the photo was taken. She had the same exact long, white hair, same tired looking eyes, and same disgustingly pale skin as in that photo and on her profile picture. It was Mrs. Larson.
“Deeeeeetectiiiiiiive,” she spoke in a hoarse voice mixed with what I assumed was her own and several others, both male and female, adult and child, “youuuuuuu shouuuullld haaaaaaaaave juuuuuuusssssst giiiiiven herrrrrrr toooooo meeeeee… Youuuuuuuu diiiiiiiiid nooooooot haaaaaave toooooooo ssssssseeeee thiiiiiissssss…”
“Fuck you!” I shouted, beginning to charge at the elderly woman only to be yanked back by my shackles. “Let us go, right now!”
“Nnnnooooo,” Mrs. Larson replied harshly as she stepped over to loom over Kate.
“Stay away from her!” I barked, trying desperately to break free of my shackles.
She ignored me as she ran a shaky hand down along Kate’s trembling face. “Ooooooooohhhhh, Kaaaaaate… Sweeeeet, sweeeeeeeet, Kaaaaaaaaaate…” Mrs. Larson cooed as she went on stroking Kate’s wet cheek. “Doooooo noooooooot crrrrrrryyyyyyy, dooooooonnnnnn’t thiiiiiiiiiinnnnk oooooofff iiiiiiiit aaaaaaaassssss dyyyyyyyyiiiiinnnnng, thiiiiiiiiinnnk ooooooooffff iiiiiiit aaaaaassssss ssssssssaaaaaaaaaviiiiiiinnng aaaaaannnnoooootherrrrrrrrr liiiiiiiiife.”
“I-I… I d-don’t… Don’t under-understand… w-what th-that… That m-means…” Kate cried, her hands gripping the sides of the metal table beneath her, “P-Please, d-don’t… Don’t kill me… L-Let… Let us-us go!”
“Nnnnnoooooo,” Mrs. Larson answered in the same harshness she used on me, “IIIIIIIII neeeeeeeed youuuuuuuuuu,” she then shot a death glare my way through tired, silver eyes, “aaaaaaaannnnnnd heeeeeeeeee’ssssssss beeeeeeeeeennnnnn nnnnnnnoooooooothiiiiiiiiinnnnnng buuuuut aaaaaa thooooooorrrrrrnnnn iiiiiiinnnnn myyyyyyyyy ssssssssiiiiiiiide siiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnccccccce youuuuuu eeeeeessssssscaaaaaaped meeeeeeee.” She then looked back to Kate with a softer look. “Aaaaaaaassssss fffffoooooorrrrr whaaaaaaaat youuuuuuu caaaaaannnn’t uuuuuunnnnnnderrrrrrssssssstaaaaaaannnnnnd, IIIIIIIIII nnnnnneeeeeeed yourrrrrrrrrr heaaaaaaaarrrrrt tooooooo ssssssssaaaaaavvvvvvve myyyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiiisssssssterrrrrrrr.”
“The fuck does that mean?” I demanded, still trying to vain to pull my ankle from the chains. “How the hell will Kate’s heart save your sister?”
“Diiiiiiiiidnnnnnn’t nnnnnnneeeeeeed toooooo beeeee Kaaaaaaate’sssssss,” admitted Mrs. Larson, “buuuuuuuut sssshhhhhheeeeee hiiiiiiiiid theeeeee ooooooootherrrrr giiiiirrrrrrllllll ffffffrrrrroooooommmmm mmmmmeeeeee.”
“S-Son… Sonja…” Kate sniffed, the tears still streaming down her face.
“IIIIIIII oooooooonnnnnlllllyyyyy neeeeed fffffffeeeeeemmmmmaaaaallllle,” Mrs. Larson dismissed Ms. Greymoore’s name, “ffffffeeeeeeemmmmmaaaaaallllle heaaaaaaaarrrrrrrtsssss toooooo rrrrrrreeeeeetuuuuurrrrrrnnnnn mmmmmmyyyyy ssssiiiiissssssterrrrrrrrr toooooo theeeeeeee giiiiirrrrrllllll ssssshhhhhheeeee uuuuuuuusssssed tooooo beeeeeee.”
“That’s a fucking joke right?” I asked. “The hell makes you think eating a female heart will turn your sister back into a human woman? Have you seen what’s happened to your sister?”
“IIIIIIIII knnnnnnnooooooow beeeeeeecaaaauuuuusssssse iiiiiiiiiiit wooooooorrrrrked ooooooonnnnn mmmmmeeeeee,” Mrs. Larson explained, “IIIIIIIIIII waaaaaasssss aaaaaaablllllllle toooooo reeeeeeetaaaaiiiiiinnnnnn thiiiiiiiiiisssssss huuuuuummmmmmaaaaaannnnn fffffffooooorrrrrrmmmm ffffffrrrrrooooommmm eeeeeaaaaatiiiiiinnnnnng theeeeeeee heaaaaaaaaarrrrrtsssss, sssssspecifffffficaaaaaaallllllyyyyyy fffffffeeeeeemmmmmaaaaallllleeee sssssssooooooo IIIIIIIIII mmmmmmaaaaaayyyyyy rrrrrreeeeetuuuurrrrrnnnnn toooo beeeeeiiiiinnnng theeeeeeee giiiiiirrrrrrrllllll IIIIIII uuuuuuusssssed toooooooo beeeeeee.”
“You were dead,” I pointed out, “they found your body up here, you were buried.”
“Theeeeeessssssse sssshhhhheeeeeellllllsssss arrrrrrre mmmmmeeeeeerrreeeellllyyy veeeeeessssssellllllssssss ffffffoooooorrrrrr theeeeeeee sssssspiiiiirrrrriiiiiitsssss weeeee hiiiiiiiiiiide beeeeeneeeeaaaaattthhhh,” Mrs. Larson responded, finally turning her gaze to me, “IIIIIIII haaaaaaad tooooooo maaaake peeeopllllle beeeelieevvvve IIIIIII haaaaaad diiiiiiied tooooo keeeeeep frrrrroooommm theeeee poooooollllliiiiicccce ffffrrrrrrooooommmm pooookiiiiiinnnng aaaaarrrrouuuuuunnnnd aaaaannnnnd rrrrruuuiiinnnnniiinnnng eeeevvvveeerrrrryyythiiiiinnnng.”
“So, let me just get this whole thing straight,” I began as I started rubbing my temples, "when you and your sister starting into… Whatever the hell that thing you call your sister is-“
“Ooooouuuurrrrr sssssspiiiiiirrrrrriiiiiit,” Mrs. Larson corrected.
“Whatever!” I shot. “You found out that eating female hearts turns you two back into human women and to keep police from suspecting you, you pretended to be dead and… What? Just hope a shitty real estate agency would buy your property and you could just… Kill people, people with lives and families outside the mountains?”
“Thaaaaaaaat iiiiiiisssss cooooorrrrrreeeeect…” Mrs. Larson admitted, narrowing her eyes at me.
That’s when I began laughing hysterically, holding my sides that hurt with each harsh breath of a laugh I took. Both Mrs. Larson and Kate looked to me as if I had lost my mind and at this point I was starting to believe I had. Everything I had seen and heard about this entire case would put anyone in the looney bin. And I’m the damn fool who dug too deep into something he had nothing to do with.
“Whaaaaaat’s ssssoooo ffffuuunnnny?” Growled Mrs. Larson, stepping around Kate to stand between us.
“I don’t know what’s fucking funnier, honestly,” I chuckled, running a hand through my hair, “the fact that you thing people won’t be poking around even more when they discover not only is Blackwell missing, but so is a detective and escaped convict all of whom now have ties to these fucking mountains and those cabins, or that you thing I’m more afraid of what you plan on doing with me more than I am when her father finds out I got her in this situation in the first place!”
“Heeeeeee wooooonnnnn’t beeeee aaaaabllllle toooooo doooo aaaaaannnnnyyyyythiiiiiinnnng aaaaaaafffffterrrrrrr IIIIIIIII’mmmmm dooooooonnnne wiiiiiiiith booooooth ooooooooffffff youuuuuuuuu,” Mrs. Larson hissed as she inched closer, “fffffffiiiiiiirrrrrrssssst, IIIIIIIII waaaaaannnnnt youuuuuuuu toooo waaaaaatch mmmmmeeeee kiiiiiiillllll herrrrrrr,” she turned her head to look to Kate who was now just shaking, her eyes seemingly gone dry from the crying, Mrs. Larson then looked back to me, “sssssseeeeecooooonnnnd, IIIIIIII wiiiiillllll ssssssaaaaave youuuuu fffffooooorrrr mmmmmmyyyyy sssssiiiiiisssssterrrrr, oooooonnnnne heeeeaaaaart wiiiiilllll nnnnoooot ssssssaaaaaatissssfffffyyyy herrrr huuuuuunnnnnger.” She took another step. “Uuuuuuuunnnnnllllliiiiiike sssssssoooooommmme ssssssiiiiiibllllliiiiiiinnnnnngsssss, IIIIIIIII caaaaaarrrre aaaaaaboooouuuuut mmmmmmyyyyy ffffffaaaammmmiiiiilllllyyyyyy.”
She stared into my eyes, expecting a reaction and while my blood did somewhat boil at the accusatory statement, I didn’t fully understand what she was getting at. Not until she used that voice. Not until she relived that day with those two familiar child-like voices.
“Screw you, Liam!” She cried out in a voice I remember from my childhood. “I hope you drop dead!”
“Stop.” I demanded.
“Piss off, Ryan!” She shot back in a second boy’s voice.
“I said stop!” I began shouting.
“Help me, Ryan! Please, help me! I’m sorry! Please, Lucky Dime, help me!”
I then lunged toward her, reaching my hands out toward her neck only to be stopped by the shackles as she swiftly, almost without even moving, stepped just out of my reach.
“Fucking bitch!” I screamed out.
“If only you really cared about me, Lucky Dime,” sighed Mrs. Larson as she turned and began making her way to the side of the room where a cart stood in the shadows. She pulled it over to Kate’s side, the cart covered in rusted medical tools.
“P-Please,” Kate wheezed, “p-p-please… I… I d-d-don’t w-want… Want t-to d-d… D-Die, I… I w-w-want m-m-m… My m-mom!”
“Dooooonnn’t woooorrrrryyyyy,” Mrs. Larson soothed, using that mix of different voices, “mmmmmmaaaayyyyybeeee sheeee wiiiillll cooooommmme loooookinnnng ffffooooorrrr yooouuuuu aaaaannnnnd sheeeeeee caaaaannnnn joooooiiiiiinnnn youuuuuuu.”
Kate began to sob, begging and pleading for Mrs. Larson to let her go, thrashing around in her restraints. Telling the older woman that there was no saving her sister and that she was too far gone for this sick ritual to work anymore. I tried to yank at the chains once more, trying to loosen it at least enough to break free and grab at Mrs. Larson.
“Rrrrrrreeeeellllllaaaaax,” Mrs. Larson ordered as she began filling a syringe with some kind of clear liquid from a small bottle, “yoooouuuuuu woooooonnnn’t eeeeeveeennn fffffeeeellll iiiiiiit, thiiiissssss wiiiiiillllll puuuuuut youuuuu toooo ssssssllllllleeeeeep aaaaaannnnnnd wheeeeeennnnnn youuuuuu waaaaaake uuuuuuuup, youuuuuuu’lllllll beeee iiiiiinnnnnn heeeeeaaaaaaveeeennnnn… Uuuuuunnnnnnnllllllessssss youuuuuuu weeeerrrrrrre aaaaaa haaaaaarrrrrlllllooooooot, iiiiiiinnnnnn whiiiiiiiich caaaaaassssssseeeee, mmmmmaaaayyyy Goooooood haaaaaaaave mmmmmmmmerrrrrrrcccccyyyyy ooooonnnnn youuuuuur ssssssoooouuuuullllll… Aaaaannnnnd baaaaaaasssssed ooooonnnn hoooooow youuuuuu drrrrressss aaaaannnnnd theeeee coooommmmpaaaannnnyyyy youuuuuu keeeeeep,” She added as she eyed me, “IIIIIII ssssssaaaaaayyyy youuuuu haaaaaave aaaaa lllllloooooot ooooooffff fooooooorrrrgiiiiiviiiiinnnnng tooooo dooooo.”
Kate continued to cry as Mrs. Larson pushed the needle of the syringe into her arm, pushing down on the plunger as it pierced the flesh. Kate’s loud screams soon turned quieter and her red eyes began to glaze over, but she continued to stay awake, tightening her grip on the table and still begging to be let go.
“IIIIII waaaaannnnt youuuuu toooo waaaaatch, Detective,” Mrs. Larson spat out my title in Mr. Blackwell’s voice, “IIIII waaaaannnnnt youuuuu toooo waaaaatch herrrrrr fffffaaaaaade aaaaaannnnnnd mmmmmeeeee rrrrreeeemmmmooooove heerr heeeaaaarrrrrt toooooo ffffffeeeeeed tooooo mmmmmmyyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiiissssssterrrrrr,” she then pulled out a recorder, “theeeeennnnnn wheeeeeennnnn IIIIIII ssssssuuuuummmmoooooonnnnn herrrrrrr aaannnnd sheeeee fffffiiiinnnniiiishessssss oooooofffffff heeeerrrrr heeeaaaaarrrrrt, youuuuuuu’llllllll beeeeee neeeeeext.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled, “I hope you and your sister burn.”
“IIIIIIIII’mmmmm gooooonnnnnaaaaa gooooo aaaaallllllerrrrrrt mmmmmyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiissssterrrrrr,” Mrs. Larson turned and began making her way to the basement steps, “ssssseeee youuuuu boooooth ffffffoooooorrrr diiiiiinnnnnnerrrrrrr.”
She then pressed the play button on her recorder and a small, little girl’s voice echoed in the room before Mrs. Larson vanished up the steps.
“I’m here… I’m here… I’m here…”
Then the door slammed shut.
“De… Tec… Tive…” Kate squeaked out, her breathing slowing.
“Stay awake, Blackwell,” I ordered her gently, looking around frantically for anything to get us both out of this alive, “I’ll get us out of this, I promise, just stay awake, we’ll get out of here, I just need-“
“I’m… S… Sorry…” she breathed out. “I’m… So… Sorry… For… Get… Getting… You… In… To.. This…”
“No, no, this is not your fault!” I assured her. “That psychotic bitch got us both into this shit and I won’t stop until I get us out and put her and her fucking sister are six feet under!”
“W…Wha… What… H… Hap… Happened… To… To L… Liam…?”
I stopped struggling with the chains and turned to look to Kate. Her head was turned to me, her face wet, hands clenching as hard as they could to the table beneath her, the light in her eyes slowly fading second by second. She was trying desperately to stay awake. The medication Mrs. Larson taking hold of her as the minutes ticked by.
I dropped the chains that were in my hands, looking away from her, wanting to stare at anything other than another person I had failed.
“He was killed,” I answered, “we were fishing at a lake nearby… Lake Gaagige… We got into a really stupid ass fucking fight about how which fishing pole we were going to use. I wanted to use our dad’s, but Liam was older and said only men could use dad’s fishing pole… I told him… To drop dead and stormed off… When I got home, my parents dragged me back to the lake and scolded me for leaving him…” I trailed off, swallowing all the tears and screams I’d bottled up since that day. “When… We found… Him… The autopsy… Said he was mauled by a bear… I’ve blamed myself for leaving him there alone… For letting him die and getting killed like that… The last thing I ever told him was to drop dead… I was a shitty brother and now I’m a shitty detective…”
“Is… Is he… Why… You became… A… Detective…?”
I took a deep breath and swallowed the tears again. “No, Blackwell,” I answered, “he’s not why I became a detective… I already knew what had killed him… It was my fault… If I hadn’t been such a brat and stormed off… He might still be alive… And now… What that bitch said…” I replayed Liam’s screams that escaped Mrs. Larson’s mouth. “I’m starting to think I’m getting what I deserve. Karma’s back to kick my ass…”
“H… How… Old…?”
“I was six… Liam was eight…”
“N… N… Not your… F… Fault…”
I turned to look to Kate, her eyes on mine, however faded.
“Y… You were… Only… A k… Kid…”
I took another intake of what little air there was down in that basement. I had spent years trying to convince myself of the same thing, but those moments never got easier for me when those thoughts returned.
“I think you’re just being nice,” I laughed painfully, “but I’m afraid I- and my folks- don’t share the same sentiment.”
I was staring down at where the chains were coming from in the ground, Kate not saying a word for over a couple of minutes. I spun to see if she had fallen asleep and immediately tried to find out how to wake her up again. However, once I our eyes met, I saw that she was still fighting sleep, the last of her tears rolling down across the bridge of her nose and into her hair.
“I… I… I had… Had a c… Crush… O… On… J… Jasper…” she confessed, her voice getting quieter and higher. “P… Paul and… And Son… Sonja knew… I never… Never c… Cared f… For Luke… But I’m… Sure… S… Sonja t… Told him…” she looked like she was going to sob again. “I… I never g… Got the… Ch… Chance… T… To tell J… Jasper… I… Was… Scared… He… He and… P… Paul were friends… And I… I kn… Knew… How P… Paul f… Felt… A… About m… Me… I… I did… Didn’t wa… Want to… R… Ruin… Anyth… Anything…” She took a gulp of air. “I… I ha… Hated L… Luke… I… A… Always… Kn… Knew… He… He was a… Player… B… But Sonja… Said… Said she was hap… Happy… So… So I did… Didn’t wa… Want to g… Get in… H… Her way… B… But Luke d… Didn’t l… Like h… How cl… Close… We… Were… I d… Didn’t w… Want him to make… Make her th… Think I… I was l… Leading her o… On… T… To get them… To b… Break up… Th… Then… That n… Night… Sh… She w… Wanted to… To leave…” She let out two pained gasps of breath. “I… I let them down… I let them all down… Luke pro… Probably thought… Thought I w… Was the one who… Who f… Filled Sonja’s mind… With thoughts of… Of him ch… Cheating… Th… Then I… I got them… All killed…
I… I didn’t deserve them, d… Detective…” she went on, looking away from me to stare up at the water damaged ceiling, “I… I… I was a… Terrible… Terrible friend…”
“Did you read their guest book entries?” I asked.
“N… No… D… Didn’t w… Want to… To r… Read any… Anything p… Private…” Kate answered.
“Jasper didn’t blame you,” I assured her, remembering what he had written in his entry during his time watching Mrs. Larson just outside the cabin, “even when he heard the voices- when he heard Mrs. Larson- telling him to, he didn’t. I don’t think the others blamed you either. You didn’t do anything wrong, Ms. Blackwell, there’s no way you could have known any of this would happen.”
“K… Kate…”
“What?”
“C… Call… Call me… Kate…”
“Aright, Kate,” I let out what little laughter I had left inside me, “so long as we’re the last people we’ll be chatting with, call me Ryan.”
“R… Ryan…”
“If we at all live through this, I’m going to need a long vacation after this,” I said as I turned to look at my shackles again, looking around myself to try finding anything to Get free since a vacation sounded like something to die for at that moment, “do you know any good vacation spots I can book for the fall?”
“Y… You’re… You’re a… Dick…” Kate struggled to laugh.
“I also enjoy pineapple on pizza,” I winked as I reached down to my ankle, ready to break it just to taste that sweet combination of tomato sauce and fruit.
“G… God… I… I c… Can’t… Believe… I th… Thought y… You w… Were c… Cute…”
I sat down on the floor, grabbing my ankle with both my hands. Needing to hype myself up enough to do what I was going to do, I began removing my shoe and sock from the foot, rubbing and squeezing my way up and down the ankle to my toes. I had never broken a bone in my life before this and I definitely never thought I’d do it of my own volition, but this was a desperate time and it definitely called for desperate…
“Wait what?” I turned to look to Kate, finally registering what she had said.
However, just before I could be sure of what I heard, the sound of a hunting rifle going off just above our heads right before we heard the door to the basement swing open and immediately be slammed shut. Both Kate and I turned to see someone stumble down the wooden steps, his clothes torn and body scratched and cut to a nearly deadly degree. I was even shocked he was still breathing.
“M… Mr… R… Raines…?” Kate gasped out.
“What’s left of me at least,” Mr. Raines grumbled as he limped over to Kate and quickly began undoing her straps to the table, “damn thing almost ripped my head off, but one swing of the barrel to its eye and I was able to get away… Can’t say it didn’t do its damage though… I’m… Getting really fucking hungry…”
He shook his head violently before limping over to me. He then raised an eyebrow at me when he saw how I was positioned still on the floor with a bare foot in my hands shackled to the floor.
“I… I was… I… I thought you were-“ I stammered.
“I am,” Mr. Raines interrupted, “at least, I’m on my way there anyway.” He then retrieved my Glock from his back pocket. “I don’t know what that thing did to me, but I’m not gonna make it out of this alive, or the way I came in. It’s a massacre out there by the way. Lot of men in blue bodies out there… Very… Hard to ignore… Sure more will be on their way. So.”
With that, Mr. Raines pointed at my chains and pulled the trigger on my clock, barely giving me time to cover my ears as the sound rung out loudly in the basement. I shook my head, trying to undo the blurry and ringing side effects of the sound of a gun going off near your head. I gave the older man a glare before standing and snatching my Glock from his hands. That’s when I saw Kate shifting herself to the side of the metal table she was no longer tied to, trying to get her limbs to comply with her to help her off and on to the floor.
I ran over and grabbed her just as she nearly stumbled face first to the floor and lifted her up to her feet, her body heavy with lack of keeping herself up.
“Do you think you can walk?” I asked, trying to keep her on her feet.
“I… I don’t… I…” Kate stammered as she tried to push herself off of me while also using using me as a crutch until she could stand on her own. However, she didn’t seem to be able to put any kind of pressure on her legs without falling down.
“Kate?” A girl’s voice called out from above us.
Feeling Kate shudder, I realized that it must have been the sound of Sonja’s voice and Mrs. Larson was using her to keep Kate from running. I quickly swung my arm down behind her knees, pressing the other down on her back as I lifted her up off the floor, my Glock at the ready as I kept it pointed in front of me while my arm held up Kate’s knees.
“She must have heard the gunshots,” I pointed out, “how’d you get past her in the first place?”
“I set the other cabins on fire,” Mr. Raines answered as if it were the simplest of answers, “I had to distract her somehow and give those bodies she’d been eating a better fate than becoming her shit.”
“Are you planning on setting this place on fire too?” I asked.
“‘Course I am!” Mr. Raines exclaimed, seemingly offended I’d even ask. “I already doused it in gasoline, I ain’t wasting all that time!”
“Kate!” Sonja’s voice cried out, getting closer to the basement door. “Are you seriously leaving me here to die alone again!”
“Please… Make it… Stop…” Kate sniffed as she gripped my shirt and burying her face into the fabric.
“Let’s get you two out of here.” Mr. Raines began leading the way to the basement stairs, cocking his rifle as he did so.
“What about you?” I asked, immediately following after him.
Mr. Raines didn’t answer as he stomped up the stairs and kicked the door open to the first floor of the cabin. The stench of the gasoline he had spilled hitting me harshly in my face.
“Kate!” Sonja’s voice, along with a different crescendo of male voices shrieked out as Mrs. Larson appeared from the corner of the hallway where the basement was located.
“Leighton?” A different woman’s voice asked the moment the old woman’s eyes spotted Mr. Raines. I then watched in both shock and confusion as it almost looked like the very skin on the woman melted off to reveal a much younger woman. The woman I recognized as Bonnie Collins. “Leighton… Love is that you?”
Mr. Raines kept his rifle on the vision of the woman he once loved before her murder, but didn’t move or speak.
“Darling, I’ve missed you so much!” The fake Bonnie cried out as she began making her way to Mr. Raines with arms open wide to hug him.
Mr. Raines then lifted his gun up higher, placing his finger on the trigger which caused the vision to stop in her place.
“Leighton?” The fake Bonnie asked. “Baby, it’s me… Bun-Bun… Don’t you recognize me…?” She began to tear up.
“You’re not my Bunny,” Mr. Raines growled before he shot once at the woman.
The fake Bonnie swiftly dodged the bullet, an inhuman hiss coming from an unhinged mouth, revealing a row of long, sharp teeth. The skin of Bonnie then melted off to reveal another woman, a lot younger than the first one it intimidated. The face of one of the victims upon being brought on this case.
“Kate,” the fake Sonja called out, “Kate, what are you doing? Who are these men? Why are they trying to hurt me?”
Kate let out a sobbing gasp, her nails digging into my shoulder with her arm wrapped around my neck.
“Didn’t I suffer enough?” The fake Sonja asked. “First my boyfriend and now you? Why don’t you want to be with me anymore?”
“Shut up!” Kate demanded. “You’re not Sonja! You killed her, you killed all of them! I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m not letting their memories end with you!”
Kate then snatched my Glock from my hand under her legs and shot directly at the fake Sonja’s head. Again the shot missed as the fake vision of the girl slithered out of the way, a frustrated growl of a dog and human escaping it’s mouth. It then zipped to the side, cowering with its back to us on the floor.
“Lucky dime…” A child’s voice then took over. The vision’s skin melting now to a much smaller figure. “Is this what you want? To kill me all over again?” He turned to look up at me, Liam’s face forever eight-years-old staring up at me. “It’s no wonder mommy and daddy hate you now… You were always a shitty brother… Now, I’m gonna starve to death because you’d rather help a couple of strangers.”
“I’m sorry, Liam,” I replied, everyone, including the fake Liam looking to me in surprise, “I left you alone out here and that’s what got you killed by that thing out there and I’m sorry. But, if I’d stayed it may have been both of us and then mom and dad would have no one left to blame but each other. If you had left and I was the one killed, you’d probably be in my shoes instead. I’m sorry for letting you get killed, but I’m gonna make up for it now.”
I then took my Glock back from Kate and pointed it to the vision of Liam.
“Good bye, Liam.”
I shot the gun once again, missing the creature again, however, this time I just kept shooting, Mr. Raines following after. Our different bullets just kept firing, the thing dodging and trying to get closer to us. The creature screeched out at us in a myriad of different voices both familiar and unknown. It wasn’t until one shot from my Glock struck the creatures shoulder and Mr. Raines’ rifle struck its head when the skins of everyone it was trying to turn into all melted off, revealing Mrs. Larson once again.
However, this time, she looked shriveled, older than she looked before. Her face looked deformed, beginning to grow furry, her eyes growing nothing but red, no irises, no pupils, just red. Her hair grew longer, branches like antlers growing painfully out from her skull, breaking the skin as they grew larger. The lower half of her face grew elongated, turning into that of a muzzle of fangs and a drooling mouth.
“You… All… Have no rrrrrrriiiiiight!” A different, unknown voice snarled out from what used to be Mrs. Larson. “People liiiiiike you all… Abandoned me and myyyyyyyyy sister!” The fur growing around this thing grew out short and shaggy, the cloths it was using melting off with the skin and flesh it was wearing. It now didn’t look anything like a human woman. It now took the form of a large wolf mixed with that of a deer, it’s body dog-like with hooves, antlers, and a long, scraggly tail. “You lot abandoned us here! You left us all here to diiiiiiiie!”
Guilt was weighing down on me with each syllable it was growling. Kate looked away from it, burying her face in my neck as Mr. Raines lowered his rifle.
“Nooooow, you’re bringing more here to just leave and let die out here!” It went on, it’s horrifying, broken body shuddering. “Why let them just vanish and die up here when they can bring people like my sister and I back? Give me Kate’s heart and fix what you threeeeeeeeee failed!”
Mr. Raines then handed over his rifle to Kate, placing it down on her stomach as her hands were still wrapped around my neck. The older man made his way over to stand over the thing, its neck creaking like a rusted door as it turned its wolf-like head to look up at him.
“Leighton…” Bonnie’s voice came from the creature. “Give mmmmeeeee her heart aaaannnnd we can be togetherrrrr again… If you eat the deeeeeetective’s we can saaaaaave you tooooooo…”
“My Bunny’s dead,” Mr. Raines told it as he dug in his pocket and took out a carton of matches, “and so am I.”
“You’d burn your wife?” A mix of Bonnie and Mrs. Larson’s voices shrieked as it glared at the match he took from the match box.
“You’re not my wife,” Mr. Raines told it, “and I’ll never see her again.”
“Fooooooool,” Mr. Larson’s voice chuckled, “you’llllllll killllllll us both!”
“With the shit I’ve done in my life, I know you’re taking me to Hell with you,” Mr. Raines growled back as he struck the match on the box, “so I’m sure as fuck not afraid to burn here on Earth with you!”
Mr. Raines then dropped the match to the floor right before the creature and everything around the two of them immediately went up in flames, the fur of the creature catching quickly and engulfing it. An agonized shriek echoed out all around us, the creature thrashing in the fire it had gotten swallowed up in. Mr. Raines then grabbed it by it’s long, furry throat and swung it down back flat the floor, jumping to pin it down.
“Get out!” Mr. Raines cried out to me. “Leave here!”
Not needing to be told twice, I held onto Kate tightly and bolted past the two burning bodies, jumping over the fire as it began growing fast throughout the cabin. I quickly got to the front door and stopped to look back to see Mr. Raines fighting the creature and preventing it from coming after us, it begging for me to bring Kate back and that it would die without her.
“I’ll clear your name,” I called back, trying not to reel back in horror as I saw Mr. Raines skin begin to melt off, “I’ll let people know you didn’t kill Bonnie!”
“I’ll let people know you didn’t… Kill… Liam!” Mr. Raines’ voice called back, him thrashing around with Mrs. Larson as he said my brother’s name in my voice.
I turned back and kicked the front door open, rushing Kate out of the burning cabin. I ran until I got far enough from the smoke, turning back to see all three cabins now on fire, the area around them all ablaze. The only place untouched was Mrs. Larson’s house, all the evidence remaining. I could hear sirens in the distance coming closer. The sounds of shouts from the surviving officers sounding much closer.
“I’m here… I’m here… I’m here…”
I looked to the front porch of Mrs. Larson’s house where her recorder continued to call out for her sister. I set Kate down at the base of a nearby tree and ran to snatch the recorder, shutting it off. I searched around, looking for any signs of Prudence, but it appeared that the fire and the sounds of sirens and voices had scared her off. I ran back to Kate, her eyes closed and her not responding to me calling to her, but after checking her pulse and breathing, I found that the medication Mrs. Larson had given her had finally taken over and she was now fast asleep, the rifle Mr. Raines gave her still sitting on her rhythmically rising and falling stomach.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I leaned against the same tree I set Kate down on and slid down to the ground next to her. The first two cabins were already practically nothing but ash, the last still blazing as I heard the slowly fading screams of Mrs. Larson and Mr. Raines coming from inside.
When the screaming ended all together, the smoke turning blacker as it rose from the flames, I got to my feet and took out my pack of cigarettes as I approached the fires, staying far enough away not to get burned. I opened the pack up before stopping myself as I reached for one of the ten remaining cigarettes inside. I then flung the entire carton into the fires without taking one.
“Save one for me down there, you old bastard,” I told Mr. Raines before making my way back to Kate’s side.
It wasn’t long before the remaining officers found us, looking in confusion at the fires and to me with a sleeping victim in a homicide case on the ground. I told them we’d need to call an ambulance for Kate and that we needed to keep the flames from getting to Mrs. Larson’s house as it held evidence on the case. One officer retrieved his radio and called for an ambulance while a group ran to the house and another went to try controlling the fire as best they could by yanking out any bushes near by and throwing them away from the area around the house.
Luckily, the fire trucks were called long before the fire spread too far, residence noticing it practically the moment Mr. Raines set the first cabin on fire.
As I sat there, keeping Kate held up against the tree we sat under, I listened to the crackling of the fire, the sirens of fast approaching fire trucks and the ambulance, and the sounds of distance, coyote, almost human, howling.
submitted by Chai_Ky to u/Chai_Ky [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 14:43 graceful_ace Austria, 2 people, approx. 1 week for €76,13 at Lidl and Hofer

Austria, 2 people, approx. 1 week for €76,13 at Lidl and Hofer
I know the math on the receipts isn't mathing, but we bought some household stuff at Lidl (e.g. toilet paper) and my fiancé got some expensive coffee that only he drinks, so if you subtract that, the grocery-only cost is 76,13 ☺️
submitted by graceful_ace to Grocerycost [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 14:29 DataBass504 Consistent CTD's during missions, need help.

Okay, so I've been working on a load order the past few weeks, have restarted a new save several times & keep running into this issue. At this point I'm unsure if my mod list or Bethesda is to blame, I remember years back when Fallout 4 released the dlc Automatron had issues with crashing, possibly the new update bugged missions again or possibly Bethesda never actually fixed them to begin with.
So anyway enough scapegoating, the issue I'm having is every time I'm on certain missions & walk through a door with a siren going off my game will CTD. These are the following missions I've experienced crashes on thus far: 1. "Restoring Order" mission while approaching the Mechanist inside the RobCo Center at a certain point a siren will go off & game will CTD. 2. "Echoes of the Past" mission while trying to clear the Atlantic Offices building of Enclave Soldiers, like before certain point in building sirens will go off & game with CTD. 3. "The Secret of Cabot House" mission while helping Jack reach the basement, same thing as others once i get to a certain point sirens will go off & game will CTD. These are the missions I've came across so far that are causing the stupid siren to crash my game consistently, I'm sure there will be more & feel that it is related to Automatron dlc issues.
A few notes, I own all the DLC's & have them installed, I'm not currently using UFO4P mod. Here are a few things I've tried to fix issue: Uninstalled Automatron dlc (game wouldn't even start without crashing), moved Automatron dlc to external harddrive, Set my display settings to 30FPS, disabled AWKCR & S. C.A.P mod. None of these suggested fixes have worked, I'm running game on a Xbox Series X, the game runs mostly fine other then crashing when that dumb ass siren goes off.
My question is am I the only one experiencing these issues, I've tried searching & haven't seen any post with similar issues. Are there any mods in my load order that stand out that could be causing this issue, possibly I have mods out of place in my load order that are conflicting with each other? Is Automatron dlc just broken at the moment? Any help or suggestions would be greatly appreciated, I've been working on this load order for weeks & finally got it where I want it, I just want to actually beat the game for the first time but these missions being blocked is causing massive headache's.
Here is my load order that I'm running, listed how its currently ordered.
[LEGACY] Mutant Menagerie - Big Game Hunting (XBox) Armor And Weapon Keywords Community Resource (AWKCR) (XB1: All DLC) [XB1] Settlement Electricity Overhaul Revamped Player Responds To Pain By EngineGaming (Extended Version) ECO + NEO ALL DLCS MERGED - Has ammo crafting option SKK Fast Start New Game [Xbox] SKK Fast Start Location [Xbox] Legendary Modification Cheat Terminal [Xbox One] A Touch Of Life - Basic Immersive Fallout (DLC) Zombie Walkers (XB1) Worldwide Ghouls Fall Evil Mega Zombie Pack Boston - Less Enemies Random Encounter Manager [Xbox] Quality Of Life: Custom Ini Face Texture Glitch Fix A Bullet Time For Xbox One Idiot Savant & Better Criticals Redone (XB1) Rich Vendors+ [Complete] [XB1] Better Casing Ejection Glowing Animals Emit Light [XB1] Glowing Animals Emit Light - Far Harbor Add-On [XB1] Dynamic Light For Glowing Drinks X-01 Invisible Flashlight Remove X-01 Tesla Upgrade Kit (XB1) Weapon Jiggle Remover By MaxG3D [XB1] HUDFramework [XB1] HoloTime - HUD Clock Widget [XB1] Immersive HUD (IHUD) [XB1] Better Dials For Power Armor By Sanhedrinn Paper Vault Boy DEF_UI Core [XB1] - disabled [waiting on next gen update] DEF_UI HUDFramework Patch [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed DEF_UI Preset Compass On Top By Chucksteel [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed DEF_UI_INV_config Author's Picks [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed DEF_UI_tags Icons Definitions (VIS) [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed DEF_UI_tabs Inventory Tabs (VIS) [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed Clarity - A Visual Overhaul NAC X Fixed NAC X - Nuka World NAC X - Far Harbor Clarity + NAC X (Patch) Sunlight Alignment Tweak - Better Dawn And Dusk [XB1] Visible Galaxy 4k Enhanced Lights And FX [XB1] Wasteland Illumination Shadowing Ed. True Grass 'Lite' + Grass Reworked [XB1] Overgrowth, Immersive Living Forests And Grasslands White Phosphor NVG/ High Tech Vision Kit Update CROSS Crit Gore-Verhaul Fixed Enhanced Blood Textures (Standard With 1k Resolution) (Official) Caliente's Beautiful Bodies Enhancer -CBBE- Curvy AIO Sexy Lingerie - Optional (Curvy_CBBE_BBP) [XB1] Natasha Face Texture Immersive Face Animations REMADE - IFAR - Serious Version (XB1) Immersive Mouth And Teeth True Eyes Gorgeous Vault Girl [XB1] Companion And NPC's Face Replacer All-In-One Pack By Keke-Bu [XB1] Ponytail Hairstyles By Azar V2.5a Better Settlers XBOX [XB1] Clean Faces Of Settlers Fallout 2287 - Gas Masks Of The Wasteland [XB1 Light Edition] Fallout 2287 - Universal Gas Masks [ XB1] Fallout 2287 - Gas Mask Biped Fix Gas Masks Of The Wasteland With NAC Updated Fallout 2287 - Nuclear Winter [XB1] - version 18 Hardcore Health Overhaul Immersive Animation Framework By AnotherOne Kane's Items Sorting (XB1) Modern Clear Purified Water And Gatorade Bourbon Replacer By Sdak1 [XB1] Russian Stimpack Replacer MAIM 2 Modern Pharmacy IAF MAIM 2 - Russian Stimpack Patch MAIM 2 - Hardcore Health Overhaul Patch MAIM 2 - Nuclear Winter Patch (FlashyJoer) - Advanced Needs 76 (ALL DLC) Girly Animation [XB1] More Girly Animation [XB1] Smokeable Cigars - Cigarettes - Joints - With Hardcore Auto Save (Updated) Running With Hands Animations XB1 Swimming Animations XB1 In-Game Third Person Camera Config (XB1) Much Better 3rd Person Animations Tactics [XB1] Glowing Sea Glowing Critters - XB1 More Behemoths In Commonwealth Amazing Follower Tweaks FO4 Edition What's Your Name? By Pra Commonwealth Ambience [REDUX] All DLC Stalker UI Sound Replacer Lost World - Immersive Soundtrack Replacer Distortion - Combat Music Replacer Icebreaker Settlements - Settler Dialogue Overhaul Louder Project Reality Footsteps FO4 Commonwealth Warfare - Realistic Gun Sounds And Bullet Cracks Commonwealth Warfare Explosions - No Ear Ringing Sounds Physics Impact Overhaul And Bullet Casing Sounds Bullet Impact Overhaul Where'd You Find This Legendary - KnightHasen Tarkov-Esque ADS Sound Replacer Tactical Weapon Foley - Weapon Equip Sounds Pick Up Ammo SFX Sanctuary Hot Springs Home & Settlement Red Rocket Bunker (XB1) The Red Wave (Reloaded) Fast Travel Player Home [XB1] APC Home On The Move (Xbox) APC - Home On The Move And Fallout 2287 Nuclear Winter (Compatibility Patch) N.E.S.T Survival Bunkers V1.5 Conquest - Build New Settlements And Camping [XB1] Taffington Boathouse Revamped Xb1 Sunshine Township A Tragedy For Xbox 1 Gunner Operator CBBE [XB1] Grease Rat Garbs - CBBE Curvy Classy Chassis Replacer Outfits (CBBE) Elite Riot Gear - Standalone See Through Scopes - GOTY [XB1] Zenit REDUX (AKM, AK-74, And AK-12) RU556 Revamp Accuracy International AX50 Anti-Materiel Rifle (1k) Honey Badger (1k) Steyr AUG - No Camos (1k) RPG7 Compress Version M2 Flamethrower Redux (Updated) Mp7 Revamp MP5 Complex V2 The M14 Standalone Rifle Police Shotgun (Remington 870) - Commonwealth Weaponry Expansion Glock 19x Revamp Glock Pack - 17 - 19 - ZevOZ9c By Marion Glock 19x And Glock Pack 10mm Replacer Enclave Plasma - Fallout 76 Recreation New Vegas Uniques 05: Sprtel-Wood 9700 (XB1) Classic 10mm Submachine Gun (1K Textures) New Vegas Uniques 13: Chance's Knife (XB1) New Vegas Uniques 11: Fist Of Rawr + Bonus (XB1) New Vegas Uniques 09: Golden Glove(S) (XB1) New Vegas Uniques 06: Holy Frag Grenade (XB1) Obtainable Animatronic Alien Blaster Quantum Weapon Pack Quick Step ADS Lean Patch [XB1]Tactical Tablet 2.1 Graf's Security Fences [XB1] A Simple Sleeping Bag Place Anywhere [XB1] [XB1] Building Budget Extender V4.3.1 S.C.A.P (Settlement Cleaning Reveals Absolute Perfection) 

submitted by DataBass504 to Fallout4ModsXB1 [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 14:29 gozillastail A CALL TO ALL THE O.G.'s O.P's STILL UP IN THIS BI~ *achem* house... yeah - house!

TLDR = Too Long Don't Read It
k so I've been active here since Grush-gate 2023 when people started taking a REAL HARD LOOK at previous UAP footage, evidence.
The NASA scientist panel had been on the previous week. They were trying to end ridicule of any research in the field of UAPs. It was also a sham-filled nothing burger.
THE ONLY REASON WE ENDED UP HERE IS CAUSE WE GOT KICKED OUTTA UFOs ! by the establishment. the regency. the "mods..."
the collective, exhaustive, and morally mandatory reconsideration + reassessment of any and all multimedia, that by simply existing, could induce in the mind of the consumer....questions.
Like questions related to the possibility of the existence of
  1. UFO / UAP
  2. biologics and / or NHI
  3. immaculately efficient technology capable of generating INFINITE ENERGY
  4. GOD
Man Wearing Uniform: "Yes - I can acknowledge that the video exists, but I can't comment on it. "
But then, that day, (remember!) on live TV - Three American heros, under oath, looking rather dapper, (not in uniform)
effectively told a panel of people representing their constitutes - the American people -
"you're gonna have to watch all of them - all over again"
decorated heroes. telling us that we had to do it. we were gonna have to go back and watch every single UFO video ever, every alien autopsy film, every russian UFO crash photo.
GruschGate got people talking about these three orbs... again.
The conversation about whether or not these specific videos were "real-or-not" was officially back on the table, and we're still having it right here, right now.
but we were having it before too. remember when....
*~~WAYNE + GARTH DREAM FADE~~*
at the time, the very discourse that this NEW subreddit is now dedicated (relegated?) to, that conversation was entirely too hot for the UFOs sub to handle. and there are... reasons.... we were...
removed....
"You see, Mr.......... Anderssson...."
*Neo looks guiltily away from dossier*
Agent closes dossier with a *!SLAM!*
"You see...Mr. - Anderson -"
AirlinerAbduction2014 u/NewFollwer : "What TF is even OP's point? This is already too long and cringeworthy. To heck with this! I'm heading over to highstramgemess!"
Hey, new guy, stick around for a bit longer. I'm almost done. lol.
The point that I want to make is this -
The points - the "exhbits" - the leveraged "proof" - the very same anomalies pointed out by OP, that CROSS RTF OVER THE UNCANNY VALLEY, OVER AND OVER AGAIN, for generations, (literal GENERATIONS of posters - cycle is about 4 months. One of you OG homies back me up here)
We keep coming back to the very same points, over and over again. The way that the plane it's straightened out and accelerated does it for me. But there are a lot of thing that look really, really, real.
Check out how to check it out in 3D if you haven't yet. It will change you perception of the event.
literally.
tiny rant coming up it's juicy - 12/10 O.G O.P.s would agree.
*arms straight out* *fingers laced* *turns palms out - cracks knuckles*
That flying were-rat from India was a fraud. PERIOD.
AirlinerAbduction2014 u/NewFollower: " hey mom what an Indian flying were-rat?" u/NewFollower's Mom: "Honey I thought I told you to go bed. Now get back upstairs read your Foundation Trilogy."
If you know about the rat, I'm sorry you had to go through that.
And if you don't, but wanna, well... you're gonna have to scroll down to the beginning.
Well... more like the middle of the sub's entire feed. Also sorry you're gonna have to go through that.
Indian flying rat boy did good work muddying the waters for a while. that "orb moves the contrail" hype is the trademarked style. rather lazy IMHO..
"Orb Punches Hole Through Cloud" or whatever TF it was called. looked GREAT! But it wasn't real...
Hoaxes look like hoaxes.
The difference here in AirlinerAbduction2014 is that WE ALL HAVE UNRESTRICTED ACCESS to the best possible version of the footage, so we can easily debunk a contrail or a cloud hole.
Okay gang, - we've arrived. Grand Finale -
THIS generation of posters! They carry a sharp sword! It cuts clean! And deep! They read everything - but don't believe everything they read! It's either a very smart or a very dumb tactic.
A message to this generation ~
Stand up for what you believe in Speak your mind but most importantly speak your HEART.
Are the videos real? Did this actually happen?
"you're gonna have to watch all of them - all over again"
new guy here - yeah you - with the shirt and pants on - What does your HEART tell you when you're watching?
Don't they look so real?
Maybe they are.
"you're gonna have to watch all of them - all over again"
"o~oooooh ~ baRa....bara-ko~odA"
"you're going to have to read it all of it all over again"
"he's a Ma~gic man"
*CREDITS FINISH ROLLING* *MUSIC CONTINUES*
Good thing your stayed in your seat.
I think the indian flying were-rat is feeding this trash to 4 orbs, and he's just eating it in front of us like David Hasselhoff lying on his side, shirtless, mouthing a quickly disintegrating Wendy's double-bacon cheeseburger over paper plate on his living room floor. Don't Watch The Video.
This new generation needs to be the The Hoff's daughter , recording the video of her father, scolding him and shaming him for having let himself get this out of control.
So keep up the good work, kids. No gods, no masters, no managers. Only men.
Keep everyone accountable., all the time. or else all this sub will amount to is nothing more than an empty box filled with useless brown paper wrappers.
* CAMERA CUTS TO * The normally dark shadows of a poorly lit parking garage glow grey from the haze of cigarette smoke. OP takes a long drag off a short cigarette
*turns head to camera* *makes direct eye contact with................................................................................................................................................... YOU! *lots of eye contact with you* *even more eye contact with you*
AirlinerAbduction2014 u/Newfollower : *wow that's a lot of eye contact* Hey how did you get into the parking garage? and where is your mom?
*OP turns around, can see only this back* *shuffles slowly and silently into the shadows*
*cue X-files opening theme song*
aaaaaaand SCENE!
THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE
submitted by gozillastail to AirlinerAbduction2014 [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 14:29 bebespeaks Lifeskills you physically can't do because of Aspergers?

I say, I say, I can't physically blow my nose. Never have been able to my whole life. I get it how it's done, but I hate the noises of it, my nose doesn't push out very much moisture, I hate having tissue or fabric blocking my nostrils because I'm a nose-breather, I don't blow my nose when I'm sick. I PHYSICALLY CANNOT BLOW MY NOSE.
On a more trivial note, I've never been able to whistle. Someone at my work looked at me like I have 5 heads when I said "my lips can't whistle". I hate the noise of whistling. I hate the sound. It hurts my brain. It hurts my thoughts. I can't physically or orally whistle. I hate it when people tease me for it, it's not fair.
For in the bathroom, I had a lot of maladaptive habits as a kid that weren't all that hygienic (straddling a towel instead of wiping with toilet paper, sitting backwards on a toilet to pee), but thankfully as an adult I don't have any major bathroom issues anymore. I'm only pee-shy when using toilets at doctors offices for giving urine samples.
submitted by bebespeaks to aspergers [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:56 genericusername1904 H.G. WELLS’S, THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME (1933) VS. 1984 AND BRAVE NEW WORLD

H.G. WELLS’S, THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME (1933) VS. 1984 AND BRAVE NEW WORLD

ID, IX. MAIORES. V, CAL. IUNI. FORTUNA PRIMIGENIA.

I discovered this book by complete chance last year – a very old hardback copy was given to me as gift (in a situation which was certainly weighted with the most unlikely of synchronicities), “huh,” I thought, “it’s a first edition of H.G. Wells,” the book itself almost cannot be opened because it is so old and falling apart so I procured a text and audio file of the thing relatively easily and began to read. In hindsight not only for myself but I fancy for the generations of the last fifty years - in all totality, it is deeply strange that this book has not been more widely recognized or taught in schools, as like 1984 and Brave New World, as being the third contender (although technically the second, published one year after Huxley – seemingly written at the same time interestingly enough) in “visions of dystopia” – except that the book is not so much a vision of dystopia tomorrow but a vision of dystopia ‘today’ or rather ‘life as we know it’ of the 19th, 20th and 21st Centuries (endless war, endless pandemics, economic and logistic chaos), narrated from the comfortable and reassuring position of a society far far in the future who have long since revised their culture and solved all of the causes of the problems and become a society of genius polymaths “with (every Man and Woman) the intellectual equal of the polymaths of the ancient world.”
Now, I do not mean here to seem to ‘sweet-talk’ the reader into rushing out and buying this book or to hold it up in the manner of those other books as if it were some ideological blueprint but instead to assay the thing in the natural context which seems to me to be universally unrealized and which presents itself to us as a thing which is plainly self-evident, that is: that in the depressing and miserable dichotomy of 1984 and Brave New World; two extremely atomizing and miserable narratives, that there is also – far more empowering – The Shape Of Things To Come wherein the miserable protagony and antagony of both 1984 and Brave New World might read as merely a footnote somewhere in the middle of the book as an example of the witless measures mankinds old master undertook to preserve their power in an untenable circumstance. In other words, we know all about 1984 as children; we have this drummed into our heads and we glean our cultural comprehension that dictators cannot be cliques of business people but only lone individuals, usually in military uniform, and then we graduate from that to Brave New World to gain a more sophisticated comprehension of the feckless consumerism and ‘passive egoism’ by which our society actually operates, but then we do not – as I argue we ought – continue along in our education with this third book which actually addresses the matters at hand at a more adult level.
For instance, here, from ‘The Breakdown Of Finance And Social Morale After Versailles’ (Book One, Chapter Twelve) addresses in a single paragraph the cause of our continual economic chaos (of which all crime and poverty and war originates from) and highlights the problem from which this chaos cannot be resolved yet could easily be resolved, “adjustment was left to blind and ill-estimated forces,” “manifestly, a dramatic revision of the liberties of enterprise was necessary, but the enterprising people who controlled politics (would be) the very last people to undertake such a revision,”

…the expansion of productive energy was being accompanied by a positive contraction of the distributive arrangements which determined consumption. The more efficient the output, the fewer were the wages-earners. The more stuff there was, the fewer consumers there were. The fewer the consumers, the smaller the trading profits, and the less the gross spending power of the shareholders and individual entrepreneurs. So buying dwindled at both ends of the process and the common investor suffered with the wages- earner. This was the "Paradox of Overproduction" which so troubled the writers and journalists of the third decade of the twentieth century.

It is easy for the young student to-day to ask "Why did they not adjust?" But let him ask himself who there was to adjust. Our modern superstructure of applied economic science, the David Lubin Bureau and the General Directors' Board, with its vast recording organization, its hundreds of thousands of stations and observers, directing, adjusting, apportioning and distributing, had not even begun to exist. Adjustment was left to blind and ill-estimated forces. It was the general interest of mankind to be prosperous, but it was nobody's particular interest to keep affairs in a frame of prosperity. Manifestly a dramatic revision of the liberties of enterprise was necessary, but the enterprising people who controlled politics, so far as political life was controlled, were the very last people to undertake such a revision.

There is a clever metaphor I fancy that Wells worked in to this for the ‘actual’ defacto controlling class of things, that is: not really the politicians (sorry to disappoint the Orwell and conspiracy fans) but instead the ‘Dictatorship of the Air’ which might easily read as the ‘Dictatorship of the Airwaves’ – in colloquial language, that being radio and then television. Certainly we might imagine Rupert Murdoch or Ted Turner or Sumner Redstone (of yesterday) entering into honourable retirement as like the ‘dictators of the air’ of the very last days before the establishment of a one world state – in any case that is how things would work out, as the power of, say, Ted Turner to eradicate a political party in the United States – at any time he wishes – by simply green-lighting coverage of their bad actions relentlessly for months until revolution occurs is a real power of which no other institution possesses nor possesses any means of defence against, i.e. the ‘real power’ in our world to end a war or begin or war or end this or begin that is that power held by the organized press. This metaphor is somewhat of a more mature view, I think, than Wells earlier conception of the press in The Sleeper Awakes (1899) where the press of a dystopian future is visualized as a “babble machine” spreading circular nonsense to preoccupy the citizenry (although this is arguably a true representation of the mental processes of the Twitter and Facebook user, or of the general baby-speak and extremely infantile form of the news reports on the front page of the BBC News website) which is more or less what the press depicted as being in Brave New World also.
However the construction of sudden new realities (or sudden ‘actualities’) presented by the equation of interdependent technological innovations (i.e. the radio and the television in this instance) is mentioned early on in The Shape Of Things To Come in ‘How The Idea And Hope Of The Modern World State First Appeared’ (Book One, Chapter Two),

The fruitlessness of all these premature inventions is very easily explained. First in the case of the Transatlantic passage; either the earlier navigators who got to America never got back, or, if they did get back, they were unable to find the necessary support and means to go again before they died, or they had had enough of hardship, or they perished in a second attempt. Their stories were distorted into fantastic legends and substantially disbelieved. It was, indeed, a quite futile adventure to get to America until the keeled sailing ship, the science of navigation, and the mariner's compass had been added to human resources. (Then), in the matter of printing, it was only when the Chinese had developed the systematic manufacture of abundant cheap paper sheets in standard sizes that the printed book—and its consequent release of knowledge—became practically possible. Finally the delay in the attainment of flying was inevitable because before men could progress beyond precarious gliding it was necessary for metallurgy to reach a point at which the internal combustion engine could be made. Until then they could build nothing strong enough and light enough to battle with the eddies of the air.

In an exactly parallel manner, the conception of one single human community organized for collective service to the common weal had to wait until the rapid evolution of the means of communication could arrest and promise to defeat the disintegrative influence of geographical separation. That rapid evolution came at last in the nineteenth century, and it has been described already in a preceding chapter of this world history. Steam power, oil power, electric power, the railway, the steamship, the aeroplane, transmission by wire and aerial transmission followed each other very rapidly. They knit together the human species as it had never been knit before. Insensibly, in less than a century, the utterly impracticable became not merely a possible adjustment but an urgently necessary adjustment if civilization was to continue.

In other words, then, a global state (or, rather, such power in general held by the press as I see the analogy extending to them as being the ‘Dictatorship of the Airwaves’) was impossible to imagine and completely laughable before the technologies had stacked together to reveal as like in a simple piece of arithmetic which produced a single outcome of the equation; that no sooner had the technologies existed then the thing had become an actual reality – in that 1) unassailable political power had been unthinkingly dropped into the lap of the owners of the press, but that more importantly as consequence that therefore 2) mankind was subject to that power, that is: the situation existed the moment the technologies did – and this whether any living person had even realized it, as I think quite naturally all the time Men and Women invent things that they really have no notion of the fullest or most optimal uses of (“nothing is needed by fools, for: they do not understand how to use anything but are in want of everything,” Chrysippus), e.g. in no metaphor the television was quite literally invented as a ‘ghost box’ to commune with ghosts imagined to reveal themselves by manipulating the black and white of the static until someone else had the idea that there was at least one other use for that contraption.
It is quite strange, also, that in contemporary times we have for ages been heavily propagandized ‘against’ the idea of a “one world state” as if, say, all the crimes and fecklessness that have gone on in our lifetimes are somehow secretly building towards the creation of such a thing – not a thing you would naturally conclude from an observation of those events nor a thing advocated for by anybody (insofar as I have ever heard) but it is a thing which would be the first logical response to ‘preventing’ such crimes from ever occurring again – such as like the already widely practiced concept of a Senate-Style Federation of Sovereign States rather than a hundred or so mutually antagonistic polities capable of bombing themselves or screwing up their economies and creating waves of refugees or mass starvation or pandemics, and so on. For instance, All Egypt is dependent on the flow of the Nile which originates in what is today another country, that other country recently decimated the flow of the Nile by gumming up the Nile with a Hydroelectric Dam; such an outcome would not occur if the total mass of the land itself was governed as the single interconnected economic and environmental system that it is in physical reality of which, when divided along arbitrary borderlines, there is no means to govern the entirety of the region in an amicable and prosperous manner for all as a whole and no recourse to the otherwise intolerable situation but War which is unlikely to occur – as most Nations are comprised of civilized peoples who rightly loath the concept of War – but it is the single and unavoidable outcome to resolve such a situation until that situation has dragged on for decades, causing immense suffering, until it reaches that point of desperation – the matter of Palestine and Israel, fresh to my mind in these days, raises itself also.
Of the matter of War itself, in ‘The Direct Action Of The Armament Industries In Maintaining War Stresses’ (Book One, Chapter Eleven), Wells relays in 1933 what United States President Eisenhower would later remark in 1961 in his farewell address of the dangers of the Military Industrial Complex; albeit far more analytically on Wells part, that: it is not so much the ‘desire to harm’ on the part of the armament industries which sees them engage in unnecessary build-up of weapons stockpiles but that it is simply their business to produce, to stockpile, produce more deadly variants and stockpile the more deadly variants and sell off their old stockpiles to whomsoever rings their doorbell; for instance the on-going War in Ukraine is no different in this regard to the Viet Cong and NATO Warfare in Vietnam in that massive quantities of cheap munitions were necessary for the war to be fought in the first place and massive quantities of munitions happened to exist as a by-product of the Armaments Industries to be dumped onto the warring parties in order to facilitate their macabre impulses at the expense of the citizenry; both at their cost in terms of the debt taken on to procure the weaponry on the part of their governments and in terms of their lives when the weaponry was utilized to the outcome of massive loss of life of a single peoples within a bordered space – a thing of no value to themselves. Simply put, albeit in a very simplistic reduction to the bare basics: the War would not reached such catastrophic inhuman proportions without massive quantities of cheap Armaments that otherwise sat taking up warehouse space for more valuable Armaments on the part of the producer and seller.

In a perpetual progress in the size and range of great guns, in a vast expansion of battleships that were continually scrapped in favour of larger or more elaborate models, (Armament Firms) found a most important and inexhaustible field of profit. The governments of the world were taken unawares, and in a little while the industry, by sound and accepted methods of salesmanship, was able to impose its novelties upon these ancient institutions with their tradition of implacable mutual antagonism. It was realized very soon that any decay of patriotism and loyalty would be inimical to this great system of profits, and the selling branch of the industry either bought directly or contrived to control most of the great newspapers of the time, and exercised a watchful vigilance on the teaching of belligerence in schools. Following the established rules and usages for a marketing industrialism, and with little thought of any consequences but profits, the directors of these huge concerns built up the new warfare that found its first exposition in the Great War of 1914-18, and gave its last desperate and frightful convulsions in the Polish wars of 1940 and the subsequent decades.

Even at its outset in 1914-18 this new warfare was extraordinarily uncongenial to humanity. It did not even satisfy man's normal combative instincts. What an angry man wants to do is to beat and bash another living being, not to be shot at from ten miles distance or poisoned in a hole. Instead of drinking delight of battle with their peers, men tasted all the indiscriminating terror of an earthquake. The war literature stored at Atacama, to which we have already referred, is full of futile protest against the horror, the unsportsmanlike quality, the casual filthiness and indecency, the mechanical disregard of human dignity of the new tactics. But such protest itself was necessarily futile, because it did not go on to a clear indictment of the forces that were making, sustaining and distorting war. The child howled and wept and they did not even attempt to see what it was had tormented it.

To us nowadays it seems insane that profit-making individuals and companies should have been allowed to manufacture weapons and sell the apparatus of murder to all comers. But to the man of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries it seemed the most natural thing in the world. It had grown up in an entirely logical and necessary way, without any restraint upon the normal marketing methods of peace-time commerce, from the continually more extensive application of new industrial products to warfare. Even after the World War catastrophe, after that complete demonstration of the futility of war, men still allowed themselves to be herded like sheep into the barracks, to be trained to consume, and be consumed, by new lines of slaughter goods produced and marketed by the still active armament traders. And the accumulation of a still greater and still more dangerous mass of war material continued.

The book is, if the reader has likely already gathered from the excerpts, not written in the style of a protagonal narrative; i.e. not as a story, i.e. no hero and no villain, but as a sort of a Historia Augusta – that is really the most fitting comparison I think of when trying to describe this to a new reader (or perhaps J.J. Scarisbrick’s Henry VIII), that is to say it is written ‘as’ a History in the classical style we are familiar with from the better of the ancient writers, as like Appian or Cassius Dio, but unlike Suetonius or Tacitus it is absent of the sloppy hinging of all bad things on the highly personalized propaganda ad hominem (i.e. blame the fall of empire on one guy) that goes in those narrative works as we are typically familiar with them.
It is, of course, a work a fiction; although Wells did predict World War Two beginning in late 1939-1940 (although he had Poland putting up much better and longer of a fight against the Germans) and various other innovations, beginning from his own day with a true account of events prior to his own day – giving us a valuable account of affairs and actors prior to 1933 which would otherwise not come easily to any of us to discover. But the book, ultimately, is vehicle for the transmission and discussion of these societal (i.e. social, economic, industrial, logistic) matters presented to the audience of the day fresh, in their own minds, from the abject horror recently witnessed in World War One – and the economic catastrophes of which Roosevelts reforms had not yet come into tangible reality (i.e. relief for the poor, public works projects such as the motorways across America) as is discussed in that other seemingly little known H.G. Wells literary offering in his face-to-face interview with Josef Stalin the following year in 1934 (something which I think is of far more historical value than say, Nixon and Frost or Prince Andrew and Emily Maitlis), so as to ‘avert’ another crisis and pluck from the ether a seemingly alternate trajectory of where Mankind might at last get its act together. This ‘novel’ (thought it seems strange to call it that) ought be read, I would advise, in conjunction with ‘The Sleeper Awakes’ (1899) and also the (actually very depressing – I would not advise it) short-story prequel ‘A Story Of The Days To Come’ (1897) – set in that same universe – which, perhaps it is because I am English, seems to me to be a black horror show of the reality that we actually find ourselves living in this far into an actually dystopic future – or perhaps yet with the ‘strange windmills’ powering the mega cities that this a future yet to come (no pun intended); the broken speech, the babble machines, the miserable condition of the Working Class and their consumption of pre-packaged soft bread, the desire to flee the urban sprawl into the dilapidated countryside and make a little life in a run-down house with tacky wallpaper peeling away … ah, forgive me, my point is that ‘our condition’; i.e. those of us literate in English, is quite analogous to the condition of the central characters in those two stories; a culture dulled intellectually to the point that they can barely speak or think, being appraised and assayed by ourselves; those of us simply literate, as to render our commentary stuck as to seem as mutually alien as like Caesar in Gaul. However, it is in the context of the frame given to us in ‘The Shape Of Things To Come’ that we might gain a degree of sanity about this self-same situation; to study and lean into that dispassionate quality as to discern the nature of things as they are and recognize how important this quality is in relation to Well’s ultimate outcome for the best possible position of Humankind far far future, that is: that of Humankind’s vital intellectual capacity, and that the most striking message of STC, beyond all we have mentioned in this little overview, is that intellectual capacity in and of itself.
For example, when we consider the ‘actuality’ of the power of Turner or perhaps Zuckerberg in his heyday, for instance, we consider a power fallen into a Mans lap by an accidental stacking of disparate technologies created not by himself but of which possess a power utterly dependent in that same equation upon on a population being ‘witless’ in the first place and so led slavishly by the “babble machines”. However you cut it, reader, the great uplifting of Humankind to a standard of autonomy and intellectual prowess – not held by an elite but possessed by All People – is a thing both intrinsically self-sufficient within our grasp for our own selves and is certainly the prerequisite for political matters in that intellectual capacity of the voting public determines entirely whether a public is tricked or foolish and gets themselves into trouble by undertaking some obvious error or whether they are immune to such trickery and foolishness in the first place and that their energies and time are spent on more valuable pursuits. It seems to me that our contemporary society has done away with the notion of good character through intellect and that we live with the outcome of this; being shepherded by emotional manipulation and brute force because our society at large is treated as if we lacked the verbal and intellectual toolsets to understand anything else – moreover possessing no means to discern whether or not what is forced onto us is right or wrong; truth or lies, and so on. Such a society as this, again it seems plain to me, is ‘any’ dystopia because it is the baseline composition for ‘all’ dystopia; as like the foolish dogma of an out-dated ideology for example rests itself upon a large enough contingent of the public being either treated as if they were or in fact are “too foolish” to discuss or think a thing through, so a dogma is poured over them like concrete creating, in turn, intolerable circumstances as the dogma, tomorrow, becomes out-dated and suddenly instructs them to do foolish things, as like in the “Banality Of Evil” (read: Hannah Arendt) as the character in all serious perpetrators of inhumanity who insist, with a confused expression on their faces, that they were just doing their job – and this ‘quality’, of extreme ignorance, is the composition of the culture where such ‘evil actions’ occur.
I mean here that in STC we have on one hand a very in-depth account, very serious reading, to graduate the reader out of the depressive, atomizing, disempowering, conspiratorial milieu and mire of ‘life’ presented to us in 1984 and Brave New World, but that we have at the same time the very resonant harmonics that one does not need to “wait around for a distant future utopia” to “solve all the problems” but that the tools to do so are well within our grasp at any time we so choose and of which such an undertaking constitutes the foundation stones and tapestries of that future utopia which, I think, could be said to “meet us half-way” in many of these matters, as like we reach forward and they reach back and then those in the past reach forward and we in the present reach back; that is anyway what it is to learn from the past and anyway the answer to “why the Grandfather sews the seeds for trees from whose fruits he will never eat.”
Valete.

ID, IX. MAIORES. V, CAL. IUNI. FORTUNA PRIMIGENIA.

FULL TEXT ON GUTENBERG OF H.G. WELLS ‘THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME’ (1933)
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https://preview.redd.it/37vvsroy8y3d1.jpg?width=740&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e62ef5e11c1c4222d6f99ffebe82b3dd706cbc2f
submitted by genericusername1904 to 2ndStoicSchool [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:09 big_b_44 My drunken thesis from last night- read and rip holes in it.

My drunken thesis from last night- read and rip holes in it.
Good Morning Y’all! Yesterday was my birthday, and as I celebrated by sneaking a flask of Blanton’s into the new Mad Max movie, then finishing the bottle when I got home….. I had a drunken epiphany I found this morning written on toilet paper from last night. If these two items have been beat to the bush, then just ignore me, but I wanted to share.
  1. The mystery call buyer: I don’t believe the trust me bro about UBS and Icahn only think of one person who would want to get out of his short position’s and go long with RCEO, and make a statement with it (insert 1st picture from above- fuck you reddit on my phone but my hung over ass can’t figure this shit out).
Icahn bought towards the top at like $120 post split, so $20+$5 premium would be profit galore. My theory is that he is going to get enough shares through this to be an insider next to RCEO and put his ass on the board too.
On to my next toilet paper theory: 2. My sober self has been struggling with wtf RK say to come out of hiding. My drunk self goes fuck it, I am ready to fight, but I want to make sure I win the fight. Here was the theory I came up with on that (insert second picture of sitting up in the chair)
The notorious first tweet after 3 years of hiatus and risking body and mind, but why?
My theory is he saw GME strongly reject the 200 day moving average (see the last picture) and knew it was time. He was waiting the last years, making memes and that was Cat Signal.
Please feel free to tell me I am regarded and shoot holes through my toilet paper thoughts, but this morning when I was going for my whiskey diarrhea and saw that surprise I left myself, I said I had to share it with y’all.
submitted by big_b_44 to Superstonk [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:07 madrasi2021 AWS Certified Solutions Architect Associate (SAA-C03) Resources

Every single day there is a question from someone here saying "where do I start for AWS Solutions Architect Associate" when there are a few hundred articles from those who passed already.
So here is a master list of resources to help those who have this question.
Cloud Practitioner version of this is here
If you find this post useful - upvote. I am happy to take feedback / suggestions / changes etc - please comment!

tl;dr

  1. Get 1 video course and watch it end to end - the subreddit favourites are below / scroll down further for links
    • I cannot afford any courses / need a free option - get Andrew Brown's YouTube course
    • I want to just learn bare minimum to pass exam - Stephane Maarek on Udemy
    • I really want to learn this AWS and cloud stuff well and be good at it - Adrian Cantrill
  2. Read whitepapers / review new announcements from re:Invent 2023
  3. Do one decent set of practice exams from one provider- subreddit favourites below / scroll down further for links
    • Tutorialsdojo (personal favourite - I passed ALL my exams using "TD")
    • Udemy (Stephane Maarek)
Take and Pass exam!

Subreddit Search

Following my own usual guidance, you can always use the subreddit search feature and read articles from everyone in the last month who posted about this exam / passed it. There is a wealth of detail / experience here to learn from :
Link : https://www.reddit.com/AWSCertifications/search/?q=saa+solutions+architect+associate+pass&type=link&t=month

Exam Details

If you have absolutely no clue about the exam - start here.
The exam code is SAA-C03
AWS page with all the details : https://aws.amazon.com/certification/certified-solutions-architect-associate/
Always read the Exam Guide (tells you whats in / out of scope) : https://d1.awsstatic.com/training-and-certification/docs-sa-assoc/AWS-Certified-Solutions-Architect-Associate_Exam-Guide.pdf

Minimum Viable Path to Certification

Most people usually need 3 things to pass the exam
  1. A single video based course introducing AWS and all the key exam topics
Typically these are courses where someone reads from some slides, shows you the AWS console and how to use it and then gives you tips on what to remember - there are free and paid versions of these.
  1. Additional material on key topics.
For SAA-C03 - there are some recommended whitepapers on WAF and also since 6 months have passed since the last re:Invent 2023 - any of the major announcements from then now are in scope for the exam. You wont see too many new things but there is a chance there are some random questions that were not covered in any practice exam / course.
  1. One good quality practice exam
Note : do not fall for some random "dump" found on internet or a file your mate gave you to study.
Also note - you do NOT need more than 1 of each category. You can buy more than one practice exam for sure but doing one is enough IMHO.

1. Video Courses

Free Video based Courses

Free from AWS's own training service (Skillbuilder) :
There is an "Exam Prep" course from Skillbuilder but note that this just covers the high level domains but is not a comprehensive deep dive.
https://explore.skillbuilder.aws/learn/course/external/view/elearning/14760/exam-prep-aws-certified-solutions-architect-associate-saa-c03
Optional : There is a slightly extended version of this in the paid tier with additional exam-style questions, flashcards and more importantly FREE hands on labs and the official practice exam.
https://explore.skillbuilder.aws/learn/course/external/view/elearning/14776/exam-prep-aws-certified-solutions-architect-associate-saa-c03-with-practice-material
There is a 7 day (extended to 10 days sometimes) free trial for the paid tier which can help you cram this. You can subscribe, immediately cancel but still enjoy 7 days free.
Please note that this course is not enough on its own to pass and you may want to try additional material below.
YouTube based video course
This course below is a better alternative to the SkillBuilder course above but is about 50 hours.
Andrew Brown is an AWS community hero who runs his own training site called exampro.co but offers most of the material for free on FreeCodeCamp's YouTube channel.
The 2024 refresh of the SAA course is here : https://youtu.be/c3Cn4xYfxJY
Andrew also has additional (free / paid) content on his site to check out.

PAID Video based courses

Adrian Cantrill's courses :
Adrian Cantrill is an independent content creator and has his own site from where you can obtain courses.
His courses go above and beyond what the exam needs and this is exactly why the community loves these courses as you get more practical knowledge than just cramming for the exam. The additional coverage means these courses are longer and not as cheap as other courses that cover just the exam material but in the general opinion of everyone who has taken the course it is absolutely worth it.
Link : https://learn.cantrill.io/
Udemy Courses :
Udemy is a marketplace for courses created by independent authors.
Two of the well known authors are mentioned below but please note that Udemy's pricing model can be a bit weird. One day it may show 150 USD for a course and another day 15 USD. This price it high and discount it heavily model catches out most people - so NEVER pay more than USD 20 for anything on Udemy.
Just wait for a day or so and prices may change. Opening Udemy in another incognito browser etc usually yields a different price or follow the authors on social media for codes that shrink the cost.
Stephane Maarek :
Go via his site : https://courses.datacumulus.com/ for links to his Solutions Architect Associate with the best available coupon.
Neil Davis :
https://www.udemy.com/course/aws-certified-solutions-architect-associate-hands-on/
Either one of these Udemy courses is sufficient. You still need to combine it with practice exams but you do not need more than 1 video course.
Other sites :
Exampro.co
As mentioned above Andrew Brown has his own site with additional material over his YouTube course.
Cloud Academy
https://cloudacademy.com/learning-paths/aws-solutions-architect-associate-saa-c03-certification-preparation-for-aws-1-7446/ has both a learning plan and a practice exam at the end.

2. Additional Material

I will update this section soon with some additional guidance soon as I am not happy yet (please let me know in comments if there are key additional coverage I should include) - I am scouring recent exam pass posts to see whats current and also want to add links to re:Invent 2023 announcements. I also am thinking of adding in links to "cheat sheets" / docs - let me know if this would be useful.
WAF - Well Architected Framework
https://aws.amazon.com/architecture/well-architected/
You need to know at some decent depth on what the pillars are and what they do.
Read the whitpapers from https://aws.amazon.com/whitepapers/
Specifically I found the Reliability and Cost Optimization white papers very useful.

3. Practice Exams

Please do NOT fall for "dumps" - if anyone offers you the EXACT list of AWS questions or guarantees the question bank matches the exam - these are dumps. The links below are either official or well regarded sources.
Free :
AWS skillbuilder has one free official exam with just 20 free questions.
To be honest its not really worth it - you can search for "Official practic exam skillbuilder SAA-C03" using your favourite search engine to find it.
exampro.co
Has 1 free practice exam you can sign up to.
Paid :
Official Practice exam
https://explore.skillbuilder.aws/learn/course/external/view/elearning/13593/exam-prep-official-practice-exam-aws-certified-solutions-architect-associate-saa-c03-english - there is a free 7 day trial available for you to use as this exam may not be worth a month's subscription fee
Tutorialsdojo.com
Highly recommended independent resource for practice exam questions with a very useful "review mode" and every question comes with detailed explanations on answers
Udemy
Stephane Maarek : again go via his site : https://courses.datacumulus.com/
Neal Davis : https://www.udemy.com/course/aws-certified-solutions-architect-associate-hands-on/
Other popular sites :
Exampro.co
Andrew Brown has I believe 3 practice exams as well on his site. One is free - the other two you pay for.
Whizlabs
I havent used them personally but https://www.whizlabs.com/aws-solutions-architect-associate/
Cloud Academy
https://cloudacademy.com/learning-paths/aws-solutions-architect-associate-saa-c03-certification-preparation-for-aws-1-7446/ has both a learning plan and a practice exam at the end.

Not Recommended sites :

Sites that are sadly NOT recommended anymore - Avoid A Cloud Guru / Pluralsight as their courses are not considered the best anymore. They used to be leaders but somehow have fallen behind and their subscription model doesnt work in a world with cheap one time purchase courses.
If you want a sandbox to experiment - then ACG offers one but so do Whizlabs and Tutorialsdojo.

Optional / Complementary material

I have an article where you can find complementary / alternatives to the Solutions Architect Exam - most are free and includes the "AWS Knowledge : Architecting Free Digital Badge"
https://www.reddit.com/AWSCertifications/comments/1d1o522/no_payment_options_to_learn_aws_with_digital/
This material isnt exam focused but if you want some free alternatives / cannot afford to pay for the exam - then check out the link.

FAQ

  1. Do I need ALL this material?
No. Just one of each is fine. Example : just Adrian's Course + tutorialsdojo
  1. Do I really need to do hands on work?
Yes - it is recommended that you get some hands on work at the Associate level. You can use one of the sandboxes but be careful using your own free tier account that you dont end up with leaving resources running too long and getting a big bill. Always secure your account and set billing alarms and dont create an account till you know how to do these!
  1. Where can I find vouchers for the exam?
Check this thread : https://www.reddit.com/AWSCertifications/comments/18woit6/2024_aws_vouchers_exam_discounts_othe?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
  1. Can I cheat my way using Dumps that I found online / my mate gave me / found on GitHub / YouTube?
Using dumps there is a high chance you fail and/or get caught / banned - the risk isnt worth it. Stick with genuine resources.
  1. Can I pass with just free resources as I cannot afford the resources?
Its possible but please it is recommended to atleast spend on decent practice exams. If you cannot afford the exam / resources - just get the free digital badges (Architecting) for the interim
  1. I skipped CCP / CLF - is that okay?
Yes - its okay to have skipped the foundational level - almost all the courses above teach you from scratch.
  1. Can someone who is new to IT do this exam?
Yes - Many people start from scratch and get to the Associate level. Just make sure you are investing the time required.
  1. Is it worth it?
Plenty of threads on this subreddit covering this. You have to make up your own mind if its worth it to you or not.
  1. Do I need to do coding?
While there is no coding involved in the course - knowing how to use the AWS CLI / being able to do some basic scripting would be very helpful anyway. You can also use free tools like CoPilot / Code Whisperer to help you with pieces you struggle with.
  1. Can I use ChatGPT / Amazon Q etc to learn?
Many of these Generative AI tools can still give you incorrect answers. So do not rely on them fully. If it helps you to quickly get the concept, use them but make sure to double check the results against official docs.
  1. Are there books to learn from instead of videos?
Books get out of date too quickly and I do not recommend learning from them. However there is an official Sybex Guide to the exam. Tutorialsdojo and Neal Davis (Digital Cloud) also have an ebook. You can google for links to these.
Good Luck folks!
submitted by madrasi2021 to AWSCertifications [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:01 kelpingtonn Help me! BLACK TOILET PYTHON

Hi friends
Didn't crap for 2 weeks and all of a sudden my stomach churned, knocking me to the floor. Luckily I was.home so I crawled to toilet and dragged myself on to the seat.
I opened my cheeks as wide as possible lifted.up my feet and what happened next was ridiculous.
A huge amount of gas thundered out of me. Followed by the longest black turd of all time. The length of a mini baseball bat at least. Followed by more foul gass, then a.brown log, then another lengthy black slime log. The stench was from another world.
Getting up and into the shower, a.heap more.gas flew out. Following a shower I felt better and the cramp was gone.
Please help what should I now eat?? Should I take laxatives from now on???
I swear to God.im off fast food for at least a week.
Thanks friends
submitted by kelpingtonn to Constipation [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 12:43 SonarRocket What's the deal with conservatives claiming the recent Trump verdict to be unjust?

From what I saw in the breakdown of the charges, it was a pretty cut and dry case, especially with a unanimous jury. However, I've seen lots of posts with tweets like this:
https://www.reddit.com/ToiletPaperUSA/s/u2Ztb6bRla
And plenty more even from Republican government officials, etc. I get that Trump is their guy, but for the life of me I cannot find an explanation about why the trial was unfair, a miscarriage of justice, or whatever.
Is there some evidence or testimony that should have been dismissed? Misclassification of charges? I am not a legal expert by any means.
Thanks!
submitted by SonarRocket to OutOfTheLoop [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 12:27 One-Independence-335 This pandemic will be the death for all of us!

I have never done this before but I needed to voice this one way or another. I needed away to vent my forever growing frustration in a 2024 manner. Cause calling it onto the local paper is doing shit right now. Kind of like my meme coin pics in Crypto.
I will start off by saying they have a very difficult job and our society is judging them harder than ever right now but I still and will always have love for our state, local, city PD or whomever wakes daily to pin that badge to their chest. It takes a extreme amount of courage to do that job day in and day out.
But when a non tax paying citizen(kidding I approaches a police officer in his SUV to say hey these two individuals over there are doing some type of science project with reynolds wrap foil squares and lighters. And frankly it smells like shit. I lived in my area my entire life and enough is enough with these drugs or they call them "golden trails" "blues" or "Fenty pills" Fenty powder or what ever its called. Yes I know I know Im hip and with the times bitches. The police officer looked at me and he said "thanks for the heads up we will get on it right away". I proceeded to pull away and i could hear his suv go back into park. What is that all about they are certainly not writing tickets cause just outside my neighborhood every friday and saturday is drag racing from midnight til around 3am.
So I flipped a bitch to see what had taken place and he was still in the same spot chillin amd there goes the scientists with there foil and their faces are being lite up by a small flame "Bic lighter" driving away. I wish that i would have invested into Reynolds wrap when this pandemic started. Near my house its always sold out. I cant even have a proper BBQ with friends our i the grill cause i git no damn foil. So i look like a pussy when we are all hanging out on the deck when i bring out the FORMAN. Its not a porper BBQ with a fucking Forman heating up. I make sure ti say ti the friends "its done with the red light goes off dummy".
I just want my neighborhood to go back to they it was 10 yrs ago. All even settle for 5. A mere 5 years is all I am asking for and keep that "blues" away from my fucking kids and grand kids!
So say what you want, i just wanted to vent some.
Thanks
How do you feel when you see a crime?
Would you even approach the SUV?
Whats keeping you from taking action?
Enough is enough, right?
?
submitted by One-Independence-335 to Avondale [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 12:25 One-Independence-335 This pisses me off! -Catchy Title-

I have never done this before but I needed to voice this one way or another. I needed away to vent my forever growing frustration in a 2024 manner. Cause calling it onto the local paper is doing shit right now. Kind of like my meme coin pics in Crypto.
I will start off by saying they have a very difficult job and our society is judging them harder than ever right now but I still and will always have love for our state, local, city PD or whomever wakes daily to pin that badge to their chest. It takes a extreme amount of courage to do that job day in and day out.
But when a non tax paying citizen(kidding I approaches a police officer in his SUV to say hey these two individuals over there are doing some type of science project with reynolds wrap foil squares and lighters. And frankly it smells like shit. I lived in my area my entire life and enough is enough with these drugs or they call them "golden trails" "blues" or "Fenty pills" Fenty powder or what ever its called. Yes I know I know Im hip and with the times bitches. The police officer looked at me and he said "thanks for the heads up we will get on it right away". I proceeded to pull away and i could hear his suv go back into park. What is that all about they are certainly not writing tickets cause just outside my neighborhood every friday and saturday is drag racing from midnight til around 3am.
So I flipped a bitch to see what had taken place and he was still in the same spot chillin amd there goes the scientists with there foil and their faces are being lite up by a small flame "Bic lighter" driving away. I wish that i would have invested into Reynolds wrap when this pandemic started. Near my house its always sold out. I cant even have a proper BBQ with friends our i the grill cause i git no damn foil. So i look like a pussy when we are all hanging out on the deck when i bring out the FORMAN. Its not a porper BBQ with a fucking Forman heating up. I make sure ti say ti the friends "its done with the red light goes off dummy".
I just want my neighborhood to go back to they it was 10 yrs ago. All even settle for 5. A mere 5 years is all I am asking for and keep that "blues" away from my fucking kids and grand kids!
So say what you want, i just wanted to vent some.
Thanks
How do you feel when you see a crime?
Would you even approach the SUV?
Whats keeping you from taking action?
Enough is enough, right?
submitted by One-Independence-335 to Maricopa [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 12:03 CasuallySherlock Tip for getting Dataspike if the game bugs

I was having issues with doing a resistance quest like because I broke my Dataspike you receive after getting it from the scoundrel contact.
I kept reading about having to fully quit the quest and begin the Scoundrel line so you can buy them from the scoundrel leader. I didn’t want to lose all my progress (admittedly not much) but here’s what you can do if you are like me and don’t want to lose progress.
You do have to use testingcheats true. So enable cheats, then use the cheat code bb.enablefreebuild, enter build mode and filter by the Batuu expansion pack. Find the Dataspike and set it on the ground. Your game will not allow you to pick it up as your sim doesn’t own it. Shift click the Dataspike and set as head. Your sim will now have a massive Dataspike in their head. Make sure you are still on the edit-able lot and then shift click the spike in your head and reset object. It will appear on the ground still large but it will allow you to click and drag into your inventory.
It may seem like a bit to do but it can be better to do that than to go around and break open a bunch of chests to try and find one.
submitted by CasuallySherlock to Sims4 [link] [comments]


http://rodzice.org/