Fragrant compound crossword clue
solo players should be able to take the 2 bounty tokens the boss drops.
2023.05.29 14:32 HIGH-LION solo players should be able to take the 2 bounty tokens the boss drops.
I have been a solo player since day 1, I only play with a team if its with my friends because. but ever since the new solo trait changes the game changed . what's the point of finding clues, locating the boss, killing the boss, killing enemy hunters. just for a solo rat to serpent the bounty from outside the compound and run for the extraction and get more money than me? I'm not asking for serpent to be removed, but I think I should be rewarded for my efforts at least. maybe start rewarding kills to motivate people to actually fight instead of just rat and wait for a solo to clear out a team or banish? I play around 5 or 6 games a day and half of them end up like this. and when I dye early in the round I sometimes spectate other solo hunters to see what is going on in these games because ever since the trait update I'm not seeing as many fights as before, a lot of the solos I spectate just rat outside a compound that is banishing and wait for the banish to serpent, and if the other bounty is picked up they just leave and extract. I'm sorry I know everyone has their own playstyle but this is boring. at least start rewarding players for getting kills because that is objectively the hardest thing to do in the game, maybe 100$ per kill or something so that when I end up dying after killing 6 people I at least dont get punished as much.
I played a game on the night map event and the boss was banished in scupper lake while I was taking the 2nd clue in healing church. I decided to cross the chapel of Madonna to get to scupper, and while I was on they way to scupper there was a guy ratting with a bow in the bushes right before the lake(between the chapel and scupper. He kills me with one shot, I spectate him, he doesnt move a muscle, he was just sitting there waiting for a good 2 minutes till the banish was complete, when both bounties were picked up he just left and extracted. this is just boring man. they were hyping up an "anti-rat mechanic" just for them to actually encourage ratting with the way the game is set up right now
submitted by HIGH-LION to HuntShowdown [link] [comments]
I played a game on the night map event and the boss was banished in scupper lake while I was taking the 2nd clue in healing church. I decided to cross the chapel of Madonna to get to scupper, and while I was on they way to scupper there was a guy ratting with a bow in the bushes right before the lake(between the chapel and scupper. He kills me with one shot, I spectate him, he doesnt move a muscle, he was just sitting there waiting for a good 2 minutes till the banish was complete, when both bounties were picked up he just left and extracted. this is just boring man. they were hyping up an "anti-rat mechanic" just for them to actually encourage ratting with the way the game is set up right now
2023.05.29 01:56 KnightBreeze What I've Become: Chapter X
First Previous
The first thing that Si’feri became aware of was the gentle rocking motions. She hadn’t been held like this since she was a chick, and while it was incredibly soothing, it was still somewhat demeaning. “I’m awake, you can set me down, now,” she said as she opened her eyes to look at whomever was carrying her.
She had to push down a wave of terror when she saw that it was Al’ecs. As much as she knew that the alien would never hurt her, his face was still something that had been dredged up from the deepest of nightmares, and really wasn’t something anyone wanted to wake up to. “I’m up… I’m up…” she said, gently tapping the alien on the shoulder, trying to make it clear that she didn’t want to be held any more.
Al’ecs stopped immediately before he set down the groggy hen. Sir Kev, who had apparently been walking next to Al’ecs, drew closer with a concerned look on his face. “Are you well, M’lady?” Kev asked, holding out a hand to help steady her.
“I’m fine, this has been known to happen from time to time,” she said, before taking stock of their surroundings. They were still in the forest, though they were nowhere near the clearing anymore. She also noticed that Al’ecs still carried her basket, though she had no idea why. “Were we on our way back?”
“I believe so, M’lady. You passed out not long after completing your vision, and Al’ecs picked you up and began taking you towards town. I have merely been following,” Sir Kev said, bowing respectfully. “I hope we did not disturb any after visions or effects you might have been experiencing.”
“You did not. In fact, thank you for doing just that, as we have very little time to waste, and staying where we were would have just delayed us. I need to speak with Tor and Ja’vail as soon as possible, preferable the second we get out, though I already know that that is not going to happen,” Si’feri said before she turned back towards Al’ecs. As she studied the expressionless alien, the warning from the vision seemed to echo in her ears, reminding her of the possible doom that she might have to place on him. With a chipperness she did not feel, her crest perked back up to its original bounciness as she placed a hand on the creature’s upper arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll work through this, okay?”
The creature clearly didn’t understand her, but he seemed to appreciate the sentiment all the same, as evidenced by the way the creature gently placed a hand on her head. Al’ecs tried to say something, but whatever came out of his maw was both far too garbled, and in a completely unrecognizable tongue. Si’feri really had no chance of understanding the creature, but somehow that didn’t matter to her. It was clear to her that Al’ecs was just happy to have someone to interact with, regardless of any actual understanding.
That realization alone was enough to bring the baker to tears. How long have you been alone like this? she thought as the creature slowly removed his hand. He turned around, clearly intent on making his way back to his cave, but stopped when Si’feri reached out and touched his back. He turned back to her, his face as expressionless as the first time she had seen him in her dreams, but that didn’t stop her from seeing past all of that, and into the being that lay underneath the monster.
The face looked far fuller, with an odd set of lips, like those on a dragon or a pig, though neither of those comparisons did them justice. Their corners were turned upwards somewhat, in an expression that, on anything else, would have made the creature more menacing as it bared its teeth. On Al’ecs, however, it was a warm expression, made even friendlier by how the corners of his eyes changed to match. On the top of his head was a shock of reddish orange fur, a small, button-like nose sat in the center of his face, and right above them was a pair of gray eyes that shone with intelligence.
The vision only lasted a second, but in that instance she truly understood just how much Al’ecs had lost. Without even thinking about it, she threw her arms around the alien’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug, though she was mindful not to stick herself on the spikes on the creature’s back. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you home, I promise.”
The creature seemed stunned at this, completely unsure of what to do with his hands. After a few seconds of this, and when nothing terrible happened, he finally seemed to realize that this was very real. He then gently wrapped his arms around the hen, before a shuddering sob racked his body as tears began to flow freely from his eyes again. It didn’t take Si’feri long to realize that the feathers on the top of her head were quickly becoming soaked, but she didn’t care. It was a small price to pay when she considered the fact that the promise she had made was most likely a lie.
After what felt like an eternity of this, the two finally separated, and Si’feri could only watch as Al’ecs awkwardly tried to dry his face with his hands. Not knowing what else to do, Si’feri reached out and took the blanket from the basket the creature was holding before she offered it to him. He took it, but not before letting out a grateful sort of sound. “We’ve got to get going. We’ll be back tomorrow, though, okay?” Si’feri told him as he began patting his face dry with the blanket in his hands.
Despite him not understanding a single word she said, Al’ecs nodded, then proceeded to return the blanket to the basket before he held it out to her. Si’feri gently pushed it back, shaking her head as her crest bobbed in a happy manner. “It’s yours, as well as everything in it.”
Al’ecs just looked down at it, before he turned it upside-down, revealing that he had already eaten everything she had brought him as only the blanket fell out of it.
“I’m thinking that he really enjoyed your cooking, M’lady! So much so, that I think he’s trying to ask for seconds!” Sir Kev said with a laugh.
Si’feri’s crest perked up even higher as she took back the basket, but she still pushed the blanket into his open hands. “Well, why don’t I bring this back to you tomorrow? Filled to the brim, of course. But this is still yours.”
Al’ecs didn’t try to say anything in his garbled tongue, choosing to instead give them one last nod in gratitude before he turned back towards the forest, putting the blanket over his shoulders like a mantle as he walked away.
Si’feri was briefly tempted to bring the alien back to town, but quickly dismissed the idea. Despite night quickly coming, the Town of Jov was still quite alive. Getting the alien anywhere comfortable would require more magic and drake power than they currently had available, not to mention that Al’ecs would most likely spook and run in the event that someone started screaming.
No, it’s better this way, she thought as she watched the alien disappear into the forest.
It wasn’t even ten seconds later when she started having second thoughts. This was further compounded when several knights fluttered from the trees above and landed in front of her, their heads bowed low in respect.
“How long were you up there watching?” she asked them curiously.
“For quite some time, Ma’am. Sir Kev instructed us to stay hidden while the creature was still around,” the knight in front said, not rising from his bow. “I must say, it is an honor to-”
“Leave the formalities for someone who cares,” Si’feri said as she reached out to raise the knight from his bow. “We do not have time for ceremony, nor will such things save us from what is to come.”
“M’lady Siv?”
“Si’feri will do fine, for the time being,” Si’feri said before she turned back to town. She stopped, however, as a thought occurred to her. “How many knights are stationed at the creature’s cave?”
“Four, M’lady.”
She thought about this for a few seconds, before shaking her head. “Better increase it. Two of you should head to the clearing, and provide additional protection. The creature is to survive the night, am I clear?”
“As the rising sun, M’lady,” the leading knight said, rising from his bow. He then turned to his subordinates and clapped his hands together. “Tilvan, Mor, you two provide additional protection. We’ll send more once we get back to town, but in the meantime you and the others are to defend the creature with your lives, understood?”
The two soldiers quickly cut sharp salutes, then took off into the skies. The sight of the two valiant knights disappearing into the night sky did much to relieve the worry that had been building in Si’feri’s heart, but that relief was a fleeting thing. As Si’feri and her escorts traveled back towards town, she couldn’t help but feel her heart fall further and further, and she found herself wondering if it would be enough. * * * “Hey, Genpi, take a look at this, will you?”
Genpi released his magic, deactivating the heat wand in his hand that he had been using to cut through the alien ship. The vessel was made of some kind of metal the dakri had never seen before, and the team in charge of investigating the craft had found it extremely difficult to cut or pull apart the vessel through conventional methods, hence the reason why Genpi was painstakingly cutting into the metal siding of the ship with a heat wand. He had been making good progress, too, or rather, he would have been making progress, if it wasn’t for his colleague’s constant interruptions.
With a disgruntled sigh, Genpi pushed up his black tinted goggles and looked up at the excitable drake, his expression telling the whole world that this had better be worth his attention. “What is it now Penirl?”
Penirl stood about three meters away, in his hands an oddly shaped piece of metal. It was long and staff-like, but had what looked like a stock at one end.
It also looked like it had survived the crash reasonably intact.
“I’m thinking it’s some kind of weapon, but I already ran a detection spell to look for any enchantments, and I didn’t find anything,” Penirl said as he held up the thing for Genpi’s inspection. Penirl then grabbed the weapon by its grip, and held it in front of him like he would a Lightning Rod.
Thankfully, the drake had enough sense not to point it at anyone, otherwise Genpi would have smacked him upside the head right then and there. “Well, don’t just play with it, the higher ups will want to have a look at it,” Genpi said, waving the excitable young drake away.
“What do you think it does, though?” Penirl asked, ignoring Genpi’s instructions. “I’ve already tried the triggering mechanism, but nothing happened.” As if to demonstrate this, Penirl stuck his finger into the hole near the grip and squeezed the rather obvious trigger.
Nothing happened, but that did nothing to lighten Genpi’s mood about the drake playing around with something he didn’t understand. “Stop messing around and get that thing logged and put with the other artifacts,” Genpi said, shooing the drake away.
Penirl looked a little downcast at this, but quickly perked up. “Come on, Genpi! Aren’t you even the slightest bit excited?”
Genpi looked up at the drake before slowly returning his goggles to their old position. “I'll be ‘excited’ when I find out whether or not friends of these things are going to come looking for their lost ship. More importantly than that, though, is if they find the inhabitants of this planet in any way delicious.”
“Oh poo, you really need to lighten up,” Penirl said, sticking out his tongue at the older drake.
If Genpi saw this, he didn't show it, choosing to instead reignite his wand and get back to cutting.
Penirl shook his head in disapproval before he turned and carefully picked his way out of the wreckage of the ship. It didn't take him long to log and store the new discovery, during which he started having the oddest feeling that he was being watched. He looked up and around for a little bit, drawing a confused stare from the hen in charge of the recovered artifacts, but that didn’t matter to him as much. He would never admit it to Genpi, but what the older drake had said earlier had shaken him to the core.
“Are you okay?” the hen with the clipboard asked, her crest lowered ever so slightly in worry.
“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine…” Penirl said before he tried to shake off the feeling.
“Well, if you’re sure, then you probably should be getting back to work,” the hen reminded him.
Penirl nodded, but didn’t say anything as his eyes searched the edges of the crater for a few more seconds, before they moved to the skies above. After a few seconds of finding nothing, he turned and made his way back to the ship and into the depths below.
The hen’s eyes followed him until he disappeared, before she shrugged to herself and muttered about the strangeness of drakes, completely ignorant of the strange area of warped air that hovered just above the wreckage as it silently recorded the activity below. * * * Tor was in a bit of a panic. Lady Siv was one of his closest friends, but that relationship was somewhat marred by the fact that she never came to him with good news. When one coupled this with the fact that Siv had apparently had a vision specifically about the alien survivor, one could understandably see why the small king was distraught.
Nightmarish scenes began playing through his head; vastly superior forces invading his planet, insect-like creatures that could shape-shift infiltrating his forces, and his people rounded up like cattle, being used as weapons like the unfortunate survivor, or even as a source of food.
All of this and more danced through his mind and kept him at his desk as he desperately tried to think of some way out of this hellish scenario. Plan after plan was drawn up, considered, then ultimately thrown away, as he had no way to gauge the strength of his opponents with the information he currently had, but even with his limited understanding, he knew that he and his people would be conquered within a week should the aliens come. If they had the power to send a ship across the vast distance of space, what stopped them from hurling a meteor the size of Tor’s castle at his tiny Diarchy? What about several meteors? What about their own moon?
None of this sat well with the small king. If their enemy wanted, they could annihilate Tor’s little world before the planet’s inhabitants even knew what had hit them.
Unbidden, the king felt his eyes drawn to a particular book on his shelf. It was one he had read before, quite extensively for that matter, since it had been penned by one of his previous students. The concepts inside were just that, though: concepts. Nothing more than pipe dreams that the imaginative young drake had drawn up during his free time.
With a small grunt, the king held out his hand, while his beak glowed a brilliant golden color. Almost immediately, the book on the shelf took on a similar hue, and flew from its place on the shelf and into the king’s outstretched hand. He didn’t know why the book caught his eye, but something about the problems he faced reminded him of his long dead student. Maybe something about the way the curious drake saw the world would help me. At the very least, it would be a welcome diversion, the king thought to himself as he began to flip through the pages.
It wasn’t long before one of his student’s scrawls caught his eye, and he had to suppress a chuckle at the strange invention the drake had penned. “A wooden, flying golem. I remember that one,” Tor said fondly to himself. “Was supposed to be able to ferry weapons and equipment to soldiers in the field. If I remember correctly, Jovask even made a land-based version for transporting foodstuff. Pity, he never did get the instructions on his golems to work right…”
The king continued to idly flip through his apprentice’s notes and designs, stopping every so often to laugh fondly at what the drake had thought up, and the memories they conjured. There was an automatic arrow golem, a creation designed to do the washing up, and something that would gather flowers for some reason. Each and every creation brilliantly designed, but flawed by the creator’s inability to overcome the inherent weaknesses found in golemmancy.
With a shrug, Tor flipped through the remaining pages, fully intent on putting the book back once he reached the end, but stopped at the final page. On the page was a very strange device indeed. It looked like a random assortment of items, all tied to a central statue made to look like a Nightmare Falcon’s head. Tor remembered this particular invention: it was supposed to be the ultimate telescope, capable of not only gaining information on distant objects, but also able to track them for the benefit of the user. It could even locate invisible objects, if enough information for basic scrying was available.
The only problem was, again, the inherent problem with the school of golemmancy: The more complex the task, the more arcanite was required for the golem to perform said task. In order to get this thing to work, Jovask would have needed a hunk of arcanite the size of a large mountain.
Tor let out a weary sigh as he snapped the book shut. Shame, too. If we had Jovask’s Omniscope, we would at least be able to determine if there were any alien ships in orbit about to destroy us, maybe take a few with us using the sun and moon, but… golemmancy, of all things… he thought as his beak began to glow again. With no small amount of nostalgia, the King of the Dawn returned his former student’s work to its resting place.
“What’s wrong, Tory?”
Tor looked towards the open door of his study, his heart falling at the sight of the Lady Siv. Her crest was just as bouncy as he remembered it, though her dress and occupation seemed to have changed since the last time he saw her. “I see you’ve decided to take up baking,” Tor said as he stood to greet her.
“It was either that or basket weaving, and I felt that the people of Jov needed a baker more,” Siv said as she approached her old friend. “I see that Javy’s been rubbing off on you, as you seem to have grown mopey in your old age.”
Tor felt his crest perk up ever so slightly at that jab. “Hey, if I remember, wasn’t it you who told me that I should start acting my age?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips in mock anger.
“Yes, but I never expected you to take my advice!” Siv said as she rolled her eyes at the king. “It was just one of those things you say to a friend. ‘Act your age.’ ‘Don’t date your mortal enemy.’ ‘Don’t eat all the karro berry pockets.’ Never expected you to actually listen, though…”
They both stared at each other for some time until Tor couldn’t take it anymore and broke down in a fit of laughter. “Oh Siv, it’s been far too long…”
The Lady let out a few chuckles of her own, but the laughter never reached her eyes. Instead, there lurked a profound sadness there, one that made Tor’s laughter disappear as quickly as it had appeared.
“So, my friend, what doom have the spirits pronounced upon us?” Tor asked, his crest falling ever so slightly.
Siv let out a sigh, before slowly walking over to the king’s desk and taking a seat. “It’s bad. Really bad. Before, I’ve given you many ways to avoid fate’s decrees. Until this morning, I had never once seen a doom that had but one escape.”
Despite the hen’s gloomy demeanor, the king’s crest rose as he felt his heart leap in hope. “You mean there’s still a way out?”
Siv let out a weary sigh. “Yes, but it may involve the sacrifice of an innocent, and even then I cannot guarantee that your people will come out completely unscathed.” Siv fixed Tor with a stare that seemed to pierce straight through to his soul. “Are you prepared to hear the doom I would announce against you? Are you prepared for the doom that would swallow your people?”
“I am always prepared for this burden. You know that better than anyone, M’lady,” Tor said as he slowly circled his desk, then sat back down in his chair.
Siv reached into the pouch at her belt and pulled out a single memory crystal. “Then, O King of the Dawn, receive this doom, and turn it away for the sake of the living, and the sake of those yet to live,” she said as she placed the glowing red crystal on the desk.
Without hesitation, Tor reached out and took the crystal and gently prodded it with his power. His mind instantly became scorched with images of depravity and violence: Monsters and fire rained from the sky, and his people were turned into cold, unfeeling machines. Anguish washed over all of his senses, and it felt like he was being turned inside out.
Just as quickly as it had come, however, the feeling vanished. Tor now knew everything Siv had placed inside the crystal. Every torment she had experience now scarred his mind, including the way to annul the whole ghastly future.
“No… You cannot be serious…” Tor said, his voice shaking somewhat as he stared down at the crystal in disbelief.
“I am completely serious, King of the Dawn,” the Lady Siv said as she rose from her chair, stretched out her wings, and cast her gaze straight towards the heavens. “His fate is now in your hands. I pray for his sake and for ours that you will continue to be the wise king you have proven yourself to be.”
With those final words, the Lady Siv disappeared in a flash of fire, leaving behind a whiff of smoke, and a single, green feather.
Tor reached out and caught the feather in his magic before it had touched the ground, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the memento left behind. “Easy for you to say, old friend. You’re not the one who’s going to have to explain this to Ja’vail…” * * * Sir Viar looked up at the sound of flapping wings, his crest perking up ever so slightly as he recognized Tilvan and Mor. “Ho, what are you two doing back here?”
Tilvan, the superior of the two, cut a quick salute the moment he landed. “New orders, sir. We’re to reinforce you and protect the creature with our lives.”
Viar looked at the two, somewhat troubled. “Then shouldn’t you two have stayed with it? We only stayed here because The Lady wished it!”
“We did stay with it, sir,” Mor said, pointing to a particular patch of forest. A few seconds after he spoke, the bushes shook and parted to reveal the monster. It immediately spotted the group of dakri knights at the top of the cliff and gave them a short wave before approaching the ladder to its lair. “It seems to have incredibly accurate senses, and even slowed down for us once it knew that we were following it.”
Viar let out a sigh of relief before fixing the two with a searching stare. “Did either of you happen to hear Lady Siv’s vision?”
Both of them shook their heads, their crests lowering ever so slightly. “No sir. Whatever it was was pretty bad, though,” Tilvan said, watching carefully as the creature climbed its ladder to enter its cave. “I’m not an expert on the mood of The Lady, but I’d say that whatever she saw frightened her.”
Viar folded his wings as he thought about that. It wasn’t a good sign, and it made him wonder just what sort of doom was about to befall their planet. As he pondered the future, one of his drakes, Sir Isal, looked over the edge at the ladder below. “Anybody else wonder why this thing is completely okay with the fact that it’s basically under armed guard? I mean, we tried to stay hidden at first, and you remember how quickly it spotted us.”
“I do,” Viar said with a nod, but seemed to be completely unconcerned about this. “I also know that this thing is extremely intelligent, and we left plenty of clues that we were the ones that pulled it out of the river, including a note.”
Isal looked a little confused. “But if this thing isn’t even from this planet, how would it read it? I don’t think it speaks Midlander.”
Viar shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Which was why the note was only pictures, not Midlander, Sunrise, or Nightmare. We’re trying to talk with it, not confuse it.”
“But how can we be certain that it understands pictures the same way we do? How can you be sure that it can even see in the same spectrum of light?” Isal asked, his skepticism clear on his face. “For all we know, this thing can’t see the charcoal marks on the paper, or even at all. I mean, it doesn’t exactly have irises.”
Mor looked a little confused. “If it can’t see, then how is it able to navigate so easily? I mean, it never got hit once by the undergrowth of the forest.”
“I’m thinking it probably uses echolocation, like how the Nightmare tribe would conduct their ceremonial hunts!” Isal said, his crest rising with excitement. “I’ve been reading up on them, and apparently-”
Before the excited knight could build up any steam, however, Viar cut him off with a single, light thwap to the back of Isal’s head. “Stow it, Isal. It can see, the queen was quite certain of that. In fact, from what I’ve heard from Her Majesty, it’s actually quite remarkable how similar we are on the inside.”
Isal and the other drakes that had been sent to relieve Dorn and his team all perked up at this. “The queen told you that?” they asked in unison.
“Of course she told him that,” Tilvan said, folding his wings. “She also told Dorn the same thing. We’re supposed to be guarding this thing, and how can we do that without a basic knowledge of how its mind works?”
Viar nodded in agreement. “That’s the first thing you need to know when guarding someone. The next one is their habits, but since this thing is still pretty new to all of us, we’re kind of in the dark on that one.”
The other knights all looked to him, as if expecting him to go on, though Viar didn’t look like he wanted to continue this conversation at all. He instead chose to walk back to the fire pit to inspect his gear. Finally, after a few moments of Sir Viar being completely closed-beaked, Isal’s curiosity got the better of him. “Well? How is it like us?”
Viar looked surprised at that. “It what?”
“The creature! We were just talking about it, and you suddenly started doing your best Solar Slave impression!” Isal snapped at him.
Viar shook his head before he drew his sword and began to carefully inspect the edge for any nicks. “It’s not my place to gossip,” he said, as if that ended that.
It didn’t, naturally. If anything, it made the other drakes all the more curious. “You can’t honestly just leave it at that,” Isal said, tapping his claw on the ground.
Viar took a look around at the assembled drakes, before he sighed in defeat. With one quick motion, he sheathed his blade, then reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a folded square of paper. The others all moved behind the senior knight and watched him unfold it to reveal an old-fashioned, black and white photo of a group of dakri, all gathered around the carcass of a dead boar. Isal quickly recognized a much younger Viar in the photo, and by extension, guessed at who the others were. “Your family, I gather? Was that taken during your first boar hunt?”
Viar just looked at it for a while before he folded it and took out his blade and whetstone again. “Yeah, but that’s not important. What’s important is that this thing had its own family and its own life. The queen made it clear that she didn’t understand half of what she saw in the creature’s head, but she did gather this much: It’s incredibly homesick.” The others were quiet as Viar slowly began running the whetstone over the edge of his blade, his hands as steady as a mountain, even as his voice began to crack. “She didn’t tell me much, but from what I’ve heard, I can easily guess why it doesn’t care that it’s under armed guard. It most likely only cares about one thing at this point, seeing as how everything it loves and cares about is forever out of reach.”
Sir Mor looked towards the cliff’s edge, before giving his superior officer a questioning look. “And what’s that, Sir?”
Viar looked up, before he looked back down at his blade, his stare boring into his reflection as he thought about what he had guessed. “It’s an alien, so it’s entirely possible it thinks in a completely different way than us, but I know what I would want, if our places were reversed,” he said, his eyes finally leaving his reflection as he went back to sharpening. “If I were the creature, I would want revenge.”
First Previous
--------------------------------------------------------------
Hey, sorry about missing yesterday. My babies kept me up all night, and I turned off my alarms to get some sleep during the day, including the one that told me to post a new chapter. What's worse is that I woke up sick, so that's me with egg on my face!
Anyway, here's the links for my books, in case you want to skip the drip-feed and just get right into the meat and potatoes of my story. Thanks for reading, and any comments or suggestions would be greatly appreciated! I love to hear how I can improve!
Amazon:
What I've Become
Nightmare of the Past
Google:
What I've Become
Nightmare of the Past
submitted by KnightBreeze to HFY [link] [comments]
The first thing that Si’feri became aware of was the gentle rocking motions. She hadn’t been held like this since she was a chick, and while it was incredibly soothing, it was still somewhat demeaning. “I’m awake, you can set me down, now,” she said as she opened her eyes to look at whomever was carrying her.
She had to push down a wave of terror when she saw that it was Al’ecs. As much as she knew that the alien would never hurt her, his face was still something that had been dredged up from the deepest of nightmares, and really wasn’t something anyone wanted to wake up to. “I’m up… I’m up…” she said, gently tapping the alien on the shoulder, trying to make it clear that she didn’t want to be held any more.
Al’ecs stopped immediately before he set down the groggy hen. Sir Kev, who had apparently been walking next to Al’ecs, drew closer with a concerned look on his face. “Are you well, M’lady?” Kev asked, holding out a hand to help steady her.
“I’m fine, this has been known to happen from time to time,” she said, before taking stock of their surroundings. They were still in the forest, though they were nowhere near the clearing anymore. She also noticed that Al’ecs still carried her basket, though she had no idea why. “Were we on our way back?”
“I believe so, M’lady. You passed out not long after completing your vision, and Al’ecs picked you up and began taking you towards town. I have merely been following,” Sir Kev said, bowing respectfully. “I hope we did not disturb any after visions or effects you might have been experiencing.”
“You did not. In fact, thank you for doing just that, as we have very little time to waste, and staying where we were would have just delayed us. I need to speak with Tor and Ja’vail as soon as possible, preferable the second we get out, though I already know that that is not going to happen,” Si’feri said before she turned back towards Al’ecs. As she studied the expressionless alien, the warning from the vision seemed to echo in her ears, reminding her of the possible doom that she might have to place on him. With a chipperness she did not feel, her crest perked back up to its original bounciness as she placed a hand on the creature’s upper arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll work through this, okay?”
The creature clearly didn’t understand her, but he seemed to appreciate the sentiment all the same, as evidenced by the way the creature gently placed a hand on her head. Al’ecs tried to say something, but whatever came out of his maw was both far too garbled, and in a completely unrecognizable tongue. Si’feri really had no chance of understanding the creature, but somehow that didn’t matter to her. It was clear to her that Al’ecs was just happy to have someone to interact with, regardless of any actual understanding.
That realization alone was enough to bring the baker to tears. How long have you been alone like this? she thought as the creature slowly removed his hand. He turned around, clearly intent on making his way back to his cave, but stopped when Si’feri reached out and touched his back. He turned back to her, his face as expressionless as the first time she had seen him in her dreams, but that didn’t stop her from seeing past all of that, and into the being that lay underneath the monster.
The face looked far fuller, with an odd set of lips, like those on a dragon or a pig, though neither of those comparisons did them justice. Their corners were turned upwards somewhat, in an expression that, on anything else, would have made the creature more menacing as it bared its teeth. On Al’ecs, however, it was a warm expression, made even friendlier by how the corners of his eyes changed to match. On the top of his head was a shock of reddish orange fur, a small, button-like nose sat in the center of his face, and right above them was a pair of gray eyes that shone with intelligence.
The vision only lasted a second, but in that instance she truly understood just how much Al’ecs had lost. Without even thinking about it, she threw her arms around the alien’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug, though she was mindful not to stick herself on the spikes on the creature’s back. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you home, I promise.”
The creature seemed stunned at this, completely unsure of what to do with his hands. After a few seconds of this, and when nothing terrible happened, he finally seemed to realize that this was very real. He then gently wrapped his arms around the hen, before a shuddering sob racked his body as tears began to flow freely from his eyes again. It didn’t take Si’feri long to realize that the feathers on the top of her head were quickly becoming soaked, but she didn’t care. It was a small price to pay when she considered the fact that the promise she had made was most likely a lie.
After what felt like an eternity of this, the two finally separated, and Si’feri could only watch as Al’ecs awkwardly tried to dry his face with his hands. Not knowing what else to do, Si’feri reached out and took the blanket from the basket the creature was holding before she offered it to him. He took it, but not before letting out a grateful sort of sound. “We’ve got to get going. We’ll be back tomorrow, though, okay?” Si’feri told him as he began patting his face dry with the blanket in his hands.
Despite him not understanding a single word she said, Al’ecs nodded, then proceeded to return the blanket to the basket before he held it out to her. Si’feri gently pushed it back, shaking her head as her crest bobbed in a happy manner. “It’s yours, as well as everything in it.”
Al’ecs just looked down at it, before he turned it upside-down, revealing that he had already eaten everything she had brought him as only the blanket fell out of it.
“I’m thinking that he really enjoyed your cooking, M’lady! So much so, that I think he’s trying to ask for seconds!” Sir Kev said with a laugh.
Si’feri’s crest perked up even higher as she took back the basket, but she still pushed the blanket into his open hands. “Well, why don’t I bring this back to you tomorrow? Filled to the brim, of course. But this is still yours.”
Al’ecs didn’t try to say anything in his garbled tongue, choosing to instead give them one last nod in gratitude before he turned back towards the forest, putting the blanket over his shoulders like a mantle as he walked away.
Si’feri was briefly tempted to bring the alien back to town, but quickly dismissed the idea. Despite night quickly coming, the Town of Jov was still quite alive. Getting the alien anywhere comfortable would require more magic and drake power than they currently had available, not to mention that Al’ecs would most likely spook and run in the event that someone started screaming.
No, it’s better this way, she thought as she watched the alien disappear into the forest.
It wasn’t even ten seconds later when she started having second thoughts. This was further compounded when several knights fluttered from the trees above and landed in front of her, their heads bowed low in respect.
“How long were you up there watching?” she asked them curiously.
“For quite some time, Ma’am. Sir Kev instructed us to stay hidden while the creature was still around,” the knight in front said, not rising from his bow. “I must say, it is an honor to-”
“Leave the formalities for someone who cares,” Si’feri said as she reached out to raise the knight from his bow. “We do not have time for ceremony, nor will such things save us from what is to come.”
“M’lady Siv?”
“Si’feri will do fine, for the time being,” Si’feri said before she turned back to town. She stopped, however, as a thought occurred to her. “How many knights are stationed at the creature’s cave?”
“Four, M’lady.”
She thought about this for a few seconds, before shaking her head. “Better increase it. Two of you should head to the clearing, and provide additional protection. The creature is to survive the night, am I clear?”
“As the rising sun, M’lady,” the leading knight said, rising from his bow. He then turned to his subordinates and clapped his hands together. “Tilvan, Mor, you two provide additional protection. We’ll send more once we get back to town, but in the meantime you and the others are to defend the creature with your lives, understood?”
The two soldiers quickly cut sharp salutes, then took off into the skies. The sight of the two valiant knights disappearing into the night sky did much to relieve the worry that had been building in Si’feri’s heart, but that relief was a fleeting thing. As Si’feri and her escorts traveled back towards town, she couldn’t help but feel her heart fall further and further, and she found herself wondering if it would be enough. * * * “Hey, Genpi, take a look at this, will you?”
Genpi released his magic, deactivating the heat wand in his hand that he had been using to cut through the alien ship. The vessel was made of some kind of metal the dakri had never seen before, and the team in charge of investigating the craft had found it extremely difficult to cut or pull apart the vessel through conventional methods, hence the reason why Genpi was painstakingly cutting into the metal siding of the ship with a heat wand. He had been making good progress, too, or rather, he would have been making progress, if it wasn’t for his colleague’s constant interruptions.
With a disgruntled sigh, Genpi pushed up his black tinted goggles and looked up at the excitable drake, his expression telling the whole world that this had better be worth his attention. “What is it now Penirl?”
Penirl stood about three meters away, in his hands an oddly shaped piece of metal. It was long and staff-like, but had what looked like a stock at one end.
It also looked like it had survived the crash reasonably intact.
“I’m thinking it’s some kind of weapon, but I already ran a detection spell to look for any enchantments, and I didn’t find anything,” Penirl said as he held up the thing for Genpi’s inspection. Penirl then grabbed the weapon by its grip, and held it in front of him like he would a Lightning Rod.
Thankfully, the drake had enough sense not to point it at anyone, otherwise Genpi would have smacked him upside the head right then and there. “Well, don’t just play with it, the higher ups will want to have a look at it,” Genpi said, waving the excitable young drake away.
“What do you think it does, though?” Penirl asked, ignoring Genpi’s instructions. “I’ve already tried the triggering mechanism, but nothing happened.” As if to demonstrate this, Penirl stuck his finger into the hole near the grip and squeezed the rather obvious trigger.
Nothing happened, but that did nothing to lighten Genpi’s mood about the drake playing around with something he didn’t understand. “Stop messing around and get that thing logged and put with the other artifacts,” Genpi said, shooing the drake away.
Penirl looked a little downcast at this, but quickly perked up. “Come on, Genpi! Aren’t you even the slightest bit excited?”
Genpi looked up at the drake before slowly returning his goggles to their old position. “I'll be ‘excited’ when I find out whether or not friends of these things are going to come looking for their lost ship. More importantly than that, though, is if they find the inhabitants of this planet in any way delicious.”
“Oh poo, you really need to lighten up,” Penirl said, sticking out his tongue at the older drake.
If Genpi saw this, he didn't show it, choosing to instead reignite his wand and get back to cutting.
Penirl shook his head in disapproval before he turned and carefully picked his way out of the wreckage of the ship. It didn't take him long to log and store the new discovery, during which he started having the oddest feeling that he was being watched. He looked up and around for a little bit, drawing a confused stare from the hen in charge of the recovered artifacts, but that didn’t matter to him as much. He would never admit it to Genpi, but what the older drake had said earlier had shaken him to the core.
“Are you okay?” the hen with the clipboard asked, her crest lowered ever so slightly in worry.
“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine…” Penirl said before he tried to shake off the feeling.
“Well, if you’re sure, then you probably should be getting back to work,” the hen reminded him.
Penirl nodded, but didn’t say anything as his eyes searched the edges of the crater for a few more seconds, before they moved to the skies above. After a few seconds of finding nothing, he turned and made his way back to the ship and into the depths below.
The hen’s eyes followed him until he disappeared, before she shrugged to herself and muttered about the strangeness of drakes, completely ignorant of the strange area of warped air that hovered just above the wreckage as it silently recorded the activity below. * * * Tor was in a bit of a panic. Lady Siv was one of his closest friends, but that relationship was somewhat marred by the fact that she never came to him with good news. When one coupled this with the fact that Siv had apparently had a vision specifically about the alien survivor, one could understandably see why the small king was distraught.
Nightmarish scenes began playing through his head; vastly superior forces invading his planet, insect-like creatures that could shape-shift infiltrating his forces, and his people rounded up like cattle, being used as weapons like the unfortunate survivor, or even as a source of food.
All of this and more danced through his mind and kept him at his desk as he desperately tried to think of some way out of this hellish scenario. Plan after plan was drawn up, considered, then ultimately thrown away, as he had no way to gauge the strength of his opponents with the information he currently had, but even with his limited understanding, he knew that he and his people would be conquered within a week should the aliens come. If they had the power to send a ship across the vast distance of space, what stopped them from hurling a meteor the size of Tor’s castle at his tiny Diarchy? What about several meteors? What about their own moon?
None of this sat well with the small king. If their enemy wanted, they could annihilate Tor’s little world before the planet’s inhabitants even knew what had hit them.
Unbidden, the king felt his eyes drawn to a particular book on his shelf. It was one he had read before, quite extensively for that matter, since it had been penned by one of his previous students. The concepts inside were just that, though: concepts. Nothing more than pipe dreams that the imaginative young drake had drawn up during his free time.
With a small grunt, the king held out his hand, while his beak glowed a brilliant golden color. Almost immediately, the book on the shelf took on a similar hue, and flew from its place on the shelf and into the king’s outstretched hand. He didn’t know why the book caught his eye, but something about the problems he faced reminded him of his long dead student. Maybe something about the way the curious drake saw the world would help me. At the very least, it would be a welcome diversion, the king thought to himself as he began to flip through the pages.
It wasn’t long before one of his student’s scrawls caught his eye, and he had to suppress a chuckle at the strange invention the drake had penned. “A wooden, flying golem. I remember that one,” Tor said fondly to himself. “Was supposed to be able to ferry weapons and equipment to soldiers in the field. If I remember correctly, Jovask even made a land-based version for transporting foodstuff. Pity, he never did get the instructions on his golems to work right…”
The king continued to idly flip through his apprentice’s notes and designs, stopping every so often to laugh fondly at what the drake had thought up, and the memories they conjured. There was an automatic arrow golem, a creation designed to do the washing up, and something that would gather flowers for some reason. Each and every creation brilliantly designed, but flawed by the creator’s inability to overcome the inherent weaknesses found in golemmancy.
With a shrug, Tor flipped through the remaining pages, fully intent on putting the book back once he reached the end, but stopped at the final page. On the page was a very strange device indeed. It looked like a random assortment of items, all tied to a central statue made to look like a Nightmare Falcon’s head. Tor remembered this particular invention: it was supposed to be the ultimate telescope, capable of not only gaining information on distant objects, but also able to track them for the benefit of the user. It could even locate invisible objects, if enough information for basic scrying was available.
The only problem was, again, the inherent problem with the school of golemmancy: The more complex the task, the more arcanite was required for the golem to perform said task. In order to get this thing to work, Jovask would have needed a hunk of arcanite the size of a large mountain.
Tor let out a weary sigh as he snapped the book shut. Shame, too. If we had Jovask’s Omniscope, we would at least be able to determine if there were any alien ships in orbit about to destroy us, maybe take a few with us using the sun and moon, but… golemmancy, of all things… he thought as his beak began to glow again. With no small amount of nostalgia, the King of the Dawn returned his former student’s work to its resting place.
“What’s wrong, Tory?”
Tor looked towards the open door of his study, his heart falling at the sight of the Lady Siv. Her crest was just as bouncy as he remembered it, though her dress and occupation seemed to have changed since the last time he saw her. “I see you’ve decided to take up baking,” Tor said as he stood to greet her.
“It was either that or basket weaving, and I felt that the people of Jov needed a baker more,” Siv said as she approached her old friend. “I see that Javy’s been rubbing off on you, as you seem to have grown mopey in your old age.”
Tor felt his crest perk up ever so slightly at that jab. “Hey, if I remember, wasn’t it you who told me that I should start acting my age?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips in mock anger.
“Yes, but I never expected you to take my advice!” Siv said as she rolled her eyes at the king. “It was just one of those things you say to a friend. ‘Act your age.’ ‘Don’t date your mortal enemy.’ ‘Don’t eat all the karro berry pockets.’ Never expected you to actually listen, though…”
They both stared at each other for some time until Tor couldn’t take it anymore and broke down in a fit of laughter. “Oh Siv, it’s been far too long…”
The Lady let out a few chuckles of her own, but the laughter never reached her eyes. Instead, there lurked a profound sadness there, one that made Tor’s laughter disappear as quickly as it had appeared.
“So, my friend, what doom have the spirits pronounced upon us?” Tor asked, his crest falling ever so slightly.
Siv let out a sigh, before slowly walking over to the king’s desk and taking a seat. “It’s bad. Really bad. Before, I’ve given you many ways to avoid fate’s decrees. Until this morning, I had never once seen a doom that had but one escape.”
Despite the hen’s gloomy demeanor, the king’s crest rose as he felt his heart leap in hope. “You mean there’s still a way out?”
Siv let out a weary sigh. “Yes, but it may involve the sacrifice of an innocent, and even then I cannot guarantee that your people will come out completely unscathed.” Siv fixed Tor with a stare that seemed to pierce straight through to his soul. “Are you prepared to hear the doom I would announce against you? Are you prepared for the doom that would swallow your people?”
“I am always prepared for this burden. You know that better than anyone, M’lady,” Tor said as he slowly circled his desk, then sat back down in his chair.
Siv reached into the pouch at her belt and pulled out a single memory crystal. “Then, O King of the Dawn, receive this doom, and turn it away for the sake of the living, and the sake of those yet to live,” she said as she placed the glowing red crystal on the desk.
Without hesitation, Tor reached out and took the crystal and gently prodded it with his power. His mind instantly became scorched with images of depravity and violence: Monsters and fire rained from the sky, and his people were turned into cold, unfeeling machines. Anguish washed over all of his senses, and it felt like he was being turned inside out.
Just as quickly as it had come, however, the feeling vanished. Tor now knew everything Siv had placed inside the crystal. Every torment she had experience now scarred his mind, including the way to annul the whole ghastly future.
“No… You cannot be serious…” Tor said, his voice shaking somewhat as he stared down at the crystal in disbelief.
“I am completely serious, King of the Dawn,” the Lady Siv said as she rose from her chair, stretched out her wings, and cast her gaze straight towards the heavens. “His fate is now in your hands. I pray for his sake and for ours that you will continue to be the wise king you have proven yourself to be.”
With those final words, the Lady Siv disappeared in a flash of fire, leaving behind a whiff of smoke, and a single, green feather.
Tor reached out and caught the feather in his magic before it had touched the ground, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the memento left behind. “Easy for you to say, old friend. You’re not the one who’s going to have to explain this to Ja’vail…” * * * Sir Viar looked up at the sound of flapping wings, his crest perking up ever so slightly as he recognized Tilvan and Mor. “Ho, what are you two doing back here?”
Tilvan, the superior of the two, cut a quick salute the moment he landed. “New orders, sir. We’re to reinforce you and protect the creature with our lives.”
Viar looked at the two, somewhat troubled. “Then shouldn’t you two have stayed with it? We only stayed here because The Lady wished it!”
“We did stay with it, sir,” Mor said, pointing to a particular patch of forest. A few seconds after he spoke, the bushes shook and parted to reveal the monster. It immediately spotted the group of dakri knights at the top of the cliff and gave them a short wave before approaching the ladder to its lair. “It seems to have incredibly accurate senses, and even slowed down for us once it knew that we were following it.”
Viar let out a sigh of relief before fixing the two with a searching stare. “Did either of you happen to hear Lady Siv’s vision?”
Both of them shook their heads, their crests lowering ever so slightly. “No sir. Whatever it was was pretty bad, though,” Tilvan said, watching carefully as the creature climbed its ladder to enter its cave. “I’m not an expert on the mood of The Lady, but I’d say that whatever she saw frightened her.”
Viar folded his wings as he thought about that. It wasn’t a good sign, and it made him wonder just what sort of doom was about to befall their planet. As he pondered the future, one of his drakes, Sir Isal, looked over the edge at the ladder below. “Anybody else wonder why this thing is completely okay with the fact that it’s basically under armed guard? I mean, we tried to stay hidden at first, and you remember how quickly it spotted us.”
“I do,” Viar said with a nod, but seemed to be completely unconcerned about this. “I also know that this thing is extremely intelligent, and we left plenty of clues that we were the ones that pulled it out of the river, including a note.”
Isal looked a little confused. “But if this thing isn’t even from this planet, how would it read it? I don’t think it speaks Midlander.”
Viar shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Which was why the note was only pictures, not Midlander, Sunrise, or Nightmare. We’re trying to talk with it, not confuse it.”
“But how can we be certain that it understands pictures the same way we do? How can you be sure that it can even see in the same spectrum of light?” Isal asked, his skepticism clear on his face. “For all we know, this thing can’t see the charcoal marks on the paper, or even at all. I mean, it doesn’t exactly have irises.”
Mor looked a little confused. “If it can’t see, then how is it able to navigate so easily? I mean, it never got hit once by the undergrowth of the forest.”
“I’m thinking it probably uses echolocation, like how the Nightmare tribe would conduct their ceremonial hunts!” Isal said, his crest rising with excitement. “I’ve been reading up on them, and apparently-”
Before the excited knight could build up any steam, however, Viar cut him off with a single, light thwap to the back of Isal’s head. “Stow it, Isal. It can see, the queen was quite certain of that. In fact, from what I’ve heard from Her Majesty, it’s actually quite remarkable how similar we are on the inside.”
Isal and the other drakes that had been sent to relieve Dorn and his team all perked up at this. “The queen told you that?” they asked in unison.
“Of course she told him that,” Tilvan said, folding his wings. “She also told Dorn the same thing. We’re supposed to be guarding this thing, and how can we do that without a basic knowledge of how its mind works?”
Viar nodded in agreement. “That’s the first thing you need to know when guarding someone. The next one is their habits, but since this thing is still pretty new to all of us, we’re kind of in the dark on that one.”
The other knights all looked to him, as if expecting him to go on, though Viar didn’t look like he wanted to continue this conversation at all. He instead chose to walk back to the fire pit to inspect his gear. Finally, after a few moments of Sir Viar being completely closed-beaked, Isal’s curiosity got the better of him. “Well? How is it like us?”
Viar looked surprised at that. “It what?”
“The creature! We were just talking about it, and you suddenly started doing your best Solar Slave impression!” Isal snapped at him.
Viar shook his head before he drew his sword and began to carefully inspect the edge for any nicks. “It’s not my place to gossip,” he said, as if that ended that.
It didn’t, naturally. If anything, it made the other drakes all the more curious. “You can’t honestly just leave it at that,” Isal said, tapping his claw on the ground.
Viar took a look around at the assembled drakes, before he sighed in defeat. With one quick motion, he sheathed his blade, then reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a folded square of paper. The others all moved behind the senior knight and watched him unfold it to reveal an old-fashioned, black and white photo of a group of dakri, all gathered around the carcass of a dead boar. Isal quickly recognized a much younger Viar in the photo, and by extension, guessed at who the others were. “Your family, I gather? Was that taken during your first boar hunt?”
Viar just looked at it for a while before he folded it and took out his blade and whetstone again. “Yeah, but that’s not important. What’s important is that this thing had its own family and its own life. The queen made it clear that she didn’t understand half of what she saw in the creature’s head, but she did gather this much: It’s incredibly homesick.” The others were quiet as Viar slowly began running the whetstone over the edge of his blade, his hands as steady as a mountain, even as his voice began to crack. “She didn’t tell me much, but from what I’ve heard, I can easily guess why it doesn’t care that it’s under armed guard. It most likely only cares about one thing at this point, seeing as how everything it loves and cares about is forever out of reach.”
Sir Mor looked towards the cliff’s edge, before giving his superior officer a questioning look. “And what’s that, Sir?”
Viar looked up, before he looked back down at his blade, his stare boring into his reflection as he thought about what he had guessed. “It’s an alien, so it’s entirely possible it thinks in a completely different way than us, but I know what I would want, if our places were reversed,” he said, his eyes finally leaving his reflection as he went back to sharpening. “If I were the creature, I would want revenge.”
First Previous
--------------------------------------------------------------
Hey, sorry about missing yesterday. My babies kept me up all night, and I turned off my alarms to get some sleep during the day, including the one that told me to post a new chapter. What's worse is that I woke up sick, so that's me with egg on my face!
Anyway, here's the links for my books, in case you want to skip the drip-feed and just get right into the meat and potatoes of my story. Thanks for reading, and any comments or suggestions would be greatly appreciated! I love to hear how I can improve!
Amazon:
What I've Become
Nightmare of the Past
Google:
What I've Become
Nightmare of the Past
2023.05.28 15:42 Glad-Raspberry1712 You Learn Things Watching Gilmore Girls!
 | Gilmore Girls came in handy when solving this crossword clue 🤣 typed in CULDESACS, then heard Lorelais voice in my head say "the plural of cul-de-sac is CULS-DE-SAC" submitted by Glad-Raspberry1712 to GilmoreGirls [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 12:48 vikasbhall Beagle who holds guinness crossword clue
The beagle who holds the Guinness World Record for solving the fastest crossword puzzle is a remarkable dog named Purin. This talented pooch hails from Japan and has gained worldwide recognition for her impressive skills in puzzle-solving. Learn More - Purin's background, her training, and her incredible Guinness World Record achievement.
submitted by vikasbhall to dogvisible [link] [comments]
2023.05.28 04:48 berdistehwerd Range Day: Competition Shooting (2/5), IPSC
[First] [Previous] [Next (coming soon)]
Mick's pistol because I want a cover image
Mick reference
Random drawing of Finn
Memory transcription subject: “Mick”, Venlil, Former mechanical engineer, Gunsmith apprentice
Date [Standardized Human Time]: November 17, 2136
We lined up outside of the facility where our first competition would be held. The official rules would have to be explained to us before we started, as is standard for these events. Finn had already given me most of the knowledge I needed, but I still had to listen to the instructor’s words, unless I wanted to do something wrong and be disqualified.
“Alright, is everyone here?” The instructor shouted. “Nobody unaccounted for? Perfect! I see some new faces here today, so I’m going to have to go over the rules again.”
“First up, the basic safety rules must be followed at all times, no exceptions, ever! Understood?”
The line of about 20 competitors all barked out an affirmative in unison, I followed shortly after.
“Good! Good. Second rule, prioritize safety above all else. If you see someone doing something wrong, or dangerous, or outright stupid, point it out to me or one of the other safety guys around. Understood?”
“Yes sir!” The whole line responded.
The instructor’s presence was quite hard to ignore, it seems this man has a history of yelling at people to get points across to their head.
“Good! Alright, third rule. Have fun, don't die.”
“Yes sir!” we all said again.
“If nobody has any questions, we shall begin! Whoever’s first, go to the line, hands on the door, then wait for instructions. I shall follow suit shortly. When you’re done with the course, make your way up to the catwalk, the view’s great from up there, trust me. For now, sit and wait for your turn.”
Finn turned to me and added onto the instructor’s advice. “Hey Mick, don’t expect to be able to sprint through the whole thing like last time, pace yourself, depending on how they set this up, this course could take anywhere from a minute to 10, we won’t know until we’re both done. They don’t want people to cheat, taking it blind is part of the fun with this style of comp.”
Finn looked a little tense, as if the anticipation was getting to him. I knew it was getting to me too, so no wonder it was getting to him. A while ago, I figured out that I didn’t feel things quite the same as most everyone else did. Things that made others incredibly disgusted only made me a little uncomfortable. I didn’t feel loneliness even after days worth of isolation. All of the time I spent was either working or sleeping, I didn’t feel the need for free time, and I liked having a lot of surplus money, so I worked. That was, at least until I found the exchange program. It paid a decent amount of money, so I was compelled to join up. These humans couldn’t be so bad, plus I needed something new to do. Fortunately, I had previously passed empathy tests, albeit barely. It registered enough of an empathetic response for me to pass undetected. I was legally free of predator disease.
Apparently, a few of the earliest exchange partners had a bug where they could share images, and we had that bug, so I got to see the humans' appearance way earlier than most. Bipedal, tall, forward facing eyes, mostly hairless, wearing textiles to replace their lack of hair. That didn’t bother me too much, unsurprising considering my overall lack of intense emotional response that had prompted the earlier PD screenings.
It had been about [30 minutes], about half the competitors had already gone through the course before us. My turn was up next, and Finn was right after me, we were just waiting for the competitor currently in the course to finish.
A bell chimed, signifying that the last guy had made it through, finishing his run. Finn gave me a pat on the back, a sign that I should get ready to get in there.
“Remember to pace yourself, you know, you can’t run through this behemoth in 20 seconds. Slow and steady will win you the race.” Finn advised.
“Alrighty, next competitor!” The instructor bellowed, almost interrupting Finn’s advice. “Minek the Venlil? You ready?”
“As ready as I'll ever be, I guess.” I said, anticipation and nerves high.
I don’t necessarily like talking to people, particularly the ones I don’t know. Another aspect of why I felt like my home was better set on earth, rather than that sunside town where everyone just had to stop and get to know you. I’m not going back, even under the threat of annihilation, like what nearly happened to all of earth’s inhabitants.
“Make ready, put your hands on the door, your run starts once the timer beeps. If the lights turn red, stop your run immediately, make clear, holster your weapon. Understood?”
“Understood.” I replied.
I seated a new magazine into my pistol, racked the slide, holstered it, and placed my hands on the door. Here was my time to shine, I guess.
“Shooter ready? Standby…”
The moment of silence between the announcer’s callout and the timer’s beep felt like a small eternity.
BEEP!
I popped the door open as quickly as I could, took a high-ready stance, and began steadily advancing through the entrance hallway. There was a door on the left, as I entered it, I see a target standing both behind a target and a hostage. I'm forced to take my time lining up the headshot, KRAK, the target fragments into digital fragments. Another target to the right of it, slam a round through its torso. Move on, 2 targets behind a barricade, one no shoot. Take out both targets swiftly, then take a peek around the next corner. At the last moment, I spot a somewhat hidden cranny in the course right after the hallway, on my left. I backpedal, swing the pistol around the corner, and plant a round square through the chest of a target that was hiding within.
Now actually going down the hallway, there’s another hallway on the right, and a T-junction at the very end. The hallway on the right has 2 targets right next to each other, shoot and no-shoot. I take this quickly, they aren’t overlapped or anything special, just next to each other. I nearly missed because I was still moving when I shot, I needed to take more time lining up, no way I could keep getting this lucky. Left side of the junction has a shoot target, the right side has another hallway to the left of it. The rest of the floor was mostly the same, sending rounds through targets and reloading once, much like the rest of the course, right up until the end of the floor.
I rounded a corner partially blocked by a non-target, to see a small shooting gallery within the killhouse, and a door on the opposite side of the entrance. I have to clear the targets before the door will open, as instructed by the label on it. Two small, circular holograms appear before my eyes, roughly in the middle of the room. Two pops later, my magazine has run out. I haven’t even gotten through my (slightly) practiced reload, when another set of targets appear on the left side of the room. The surprise of more targets caused me to fumble slightly, tapping the magazine against the bottom of the grip. I slap the magazine back into its rightful place within my pistol, tap for good measure, drop the slide, pop the targets. The door remains still, so there are more targets to hit, I reckon. They happened to appear right I thought of them, one close and to the left, the other far and to the right. This forces me to swing my aim across the room, and I nearly missed a target again, barely clipping the right edge of the far target.
Too close, me. Too close. I somehow haven’t missed a target yet, and I intend to keep it that way.
The door finally opened, so I made my way through, and made my way up the stairs that followed the door. At the top of the stairs stood a target peeking over. Almost reflexively, I was steadily advancing past the target, without stopping I put the barrel to the target’s face, then fired. 2 rounds remaining in the magazine. The left side had a familiar set of targets similar to the little practice house. A set of closet like rooms, filled with a couple of shoot and no shoot targets. Bang, round the next corner, bang and a clack. Empty, reload, don’t fumble it this time, another target around the corner, bang.
The next few hallways were similar to the rest, a no shoot around a corner, a shoot target sitting opposite that, then I saw something I hadn't seen earlier. A direction marking on the floor, telling me to walk past the door, to a piece of half-height cover leading into an incredibly long (for this type of scenario) hallway. At the end was a hostage type target, held in such a way that you had to either hit the slightly poking out head, or the very exposed leg sitting out to the right of the target.
I take a bracing pose against the left side of the wall, on the corner. It took me a moment to line it up properly, but I sent a round flying through my target’s lower thigh, causing it to stumble out of line with the hostage, the hostage remaining exactly in its position. That’s interesting, I didn’t know the targets were dynamic like that. I had been “killing” them with direct chest or headshots for every shot that I had hit, so I had never gotten a chance to see these targets actually do their dynamic animations before. I’ll have to ask how that works later. I finished the target off with a nice shot to the chest, after it had fallen to the floor, crippled due to its leg injury. The target fragmented as the holographic display was pierced by my round, double confirming that these targets were still projections.
The door to my left had opened with a clunk a moment after I had shot the target for the second time. I preformed more of the same clearing maneuvers and shooting of targets. A pair of these targets happened to line up, almost perfectly for a collateral shot. I took aim against the target further to the rear, my round propelling itself toward the target with its aim true. It took a path where I thought it would destroy both the near and far target with the same shot, however, the bullet only grazed the first hologram, causing it to stumble backward with its dynamic system. Despite not killing the first target, it still smacked against the rear target with a standard killing shot, fragmenting into its hundreds of red shards that I had become accustomed to.
Advancing further into the labyrinth, I swiftly finished off the wounded target that had stumbled backward into a corner. Just to the right of the target, a sign on the wall pointed me downward, telling me to crawl through a claustrophobic, vent-like passage, about [2 feet] tall. I read the sign, dropped to the floor, and slid down through the little hole in the wall. Out the left of the hole, a target stood waiting for whatever round I planned on giving him, out in the open.
I wonder…
I approached the target, pistol held like a little baton. With as much force as I could for good measure, I slapped the target with the pistol.
Whiff
Seems I was wrong. I place my aim onto the target that I had unsuccessfully slapped, fired, then went to move on. Another target was in a little closet behind it, so I spun around to shoot that one too. This killhouse seemed to span for an eternity, and I thought I must be nearing the end of it soon.
Round the corner, no-shoot target, keep going around the U shaped hallway, another no-shoot target in the middle of the hallway. Pass it by, another bend in the wall, with a shoot target just beyond it. I go to fire my weapon, and…
Click.
The slide is open.
That isn’t supposed to happen, I had 3 rounds left in the magazine!
I take a quick inspection of my gun, a casing got stuck in the chamber, and now was blocking up the entire gun’s mechanism. I had been taught what to do in this situation, the malfunction being called a “double feed,” which could occur more frequently if your gun ran older ammunition, which mine did.
I followed the standard jam-clearing procedure for a double feed, which was to first lock the slide to the rear, remove the magazine, drop the slide and rack again to remove the stuck casing, reinsert the magazine, then rack the slide again to seat a new round. With my jam now cleared, I shot the target in front of me in the face, destroying it instantly. Around the corner sat another set of targets, 2 of them I had to shoot.
I get my aim steady on the first, fire, target destroyed. The slide locked back, alerting me to my state of being out of ammo. I reach for another fresh magazine, and come back empty handed.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
I was completely out of ammo, and making good time up until now.
Melee won’t work, I had just figured that out, I'm out of magazines so I can’t reload even if I needed to, which I certainly did.
AHA!
I had accidentally let the stuck round fall out with the magazine while I was removing it from the gun, so now it was sitting on the floor. I dive over to it, grab the lonesome round off the floor, and carefully insert the round into the chamber of my pistol. This was a technique that you weren’t exactly supposed to do often, as it wears out the extractor much faster, leading to more frequent issues if it’s done too often. I drop the slide, letting the final round I had to my name seat itself within the chamber, ready to fire.
BANG.
The target shattered, the door on my left clunking open to reveal the light of day, and a catwalk to a platform above the range. I walk out, and hear another voice call out.
“Show clear, then holster your weapon. Your time is…187.87 seconds, nice work in there. If you want, go watch from above from that catwalk, the next run’s boutta to start.”
I walked up the stairs, legs quite a bit more fatigued than I expected them to be, although I had just been speed-walking for 3 minutes straight, and my heart was beating faster than I expected, probably due to that moment of panic after having my gun just jam up on me, compounded by the fact that I totally ran out of ammo. I reached the top, took a seat in a nice spot near the edge of the small congregation of other competitors, waiting for Finn to come waltzing through the course. There was a display on the top of the roof, showing us an overlay of the first floor, which would also show us the second floor once the competitor got to the staircase.
A few minutes passed, and I wasn't paying attention to Finn's run, since a few people had asked for me to take pictures with them, which I reluctantly agreed to. I could barely hear it, but the end timer from earlier had spoke up again; “show clear, holster your weapon. Your time is… 178.92, fastest time yet, good stuff.”
I broke away from the group who were trying to ask me questions to meet my friend at the top of the stairs, who acknowledged my completion with a firm ‘high five’, a human gesture I had been taught over my time with him.
“Phew, nice little course, huh Mick?” Finn offered.
“Yea… It was fun, albeit tiring.” I responded, with a tail wag
“I’d bet, worse stamina especially. Anyway, how’d ya do?”
“Slightly worse than you, 187 seconds.”
Wow! Nice, uhm, that’s actually really impressive for someone who’s never done this kinda thing before, how’d ya manage that?”
“Might be because I only ever had to hit the targets once, except for that really long range one, with the hostage?”
“Yea I know the one, tricky bastard to hit without clipping the hostage.”
“Did you know those targets are reactive? Actually yea, you probably do because you volunteer here, right?”
“Yep, I'm guessing that’s how you figured out they are? Shot em’ in the leg so he’d stumble? That’s the easiest way to do it, i reckon, but just moving to the right edge to line up an easier headshot is the more advantageous way to do it.”
“Yea that’s what I figured out. Oh, after that there was one kinda standing out in a hallway that I tried to hit with my pistol, didn’t do anything but since that one actually fell over earlier I was wondering if I could save the ammo, why didn’t hitting it work?”
“If you were actually in a situation where you were running around a big ol’ building trying to murder combatants inside to rescue hostages, do you think you would have the ability to whack someone in the face hard enough to outright kill them instantly? No, no you probably wouldn’t. The target impact system only tracks bullets anyway, punches or strikes don’t move fast enough to register on the system.”
“Oh, interesting. Say, how do the holograms work?”
“No clue, all I know is it has something to do with laser projectors and some weird illusions, then it has motion detectors tuned to a specific zone in space for tracking hits, quite interesting stuff if I do say so myself, even if I don't know how it works.”
“Yea, it is,” I said, not exactly registering what was said, “anyway, I think we should go figure out what the next event is, I don’t want to go into it blind like I would have if you hadn’t made me try the little version first.”
“Alright, follow me then.” Finn said, then began walking down the catwalk, leading me to our next event of the day, which I had been informed was a “long range vintage” event.
We made our way back over to the range we were at before, now situated with targets much further out than the aim trainer I had been using earlier. There were large signs, telling me distance next to little plates with concentric rings around a point in the middle. Finn walked back over to his car, pulled out a rifle box, and came back over to me.
"Ah, the wonders of long range shooting! You ready to learn about physics?" Finn exclaimed, clearly excited.
"No, not really, why do you ask?"
"Long range shooting, and especially extreme range shooting need a lot of little physics calculations for you to actually be able to hit the target from so far away. Bullets are little more than projectiles thrown at high velocity, but there's still things like gravity, wind, and sometimes even the fuckin' Coriolis effect to worry about while your round is flying!"
"Wait, you have to worry about the rotation of the planet while shooting long range? That's insane!"
"I know, right? that's why I love this stuff!"
The next [20 or 30 minutes] were taken up by a lengthy explanation of how a bullet flies, how a spotter and shooter system functions, how a spotter scope works, how to interpret what the spotter says, the list goes on. This had continued until the whistle blasted again, alerting us of another announcement.
"Everyone come over to the podium, we're having an awards ceremony! Be here in 5 minutes or we start without you, if you aren't already over here!" the voice of the instructor from earlier rang out. Finn and I went over to the podium, where a few boxes labeled 1, 2, and 3 resided.
The ceremony went well, apparently I had gotten third place, Finn got second, and someone who had ran after both of us got first.
After the ceremony, we were each handed a box of differing sizes, the winner got a certificate for a free rifle, Finn got a new 'plate carrier', a thing that was made to hold armor and magazines, and I got a pair of cargo pants.
I walked over to the little station they had set up nearby, got a few measurements taken, then was handed an (admittedly very fancy) pair of pants, clearly set up for humans instead of venlil.
Thankfully, I didn't have to modify them so I could wear them, there was already a little bit of a notch in the top of the beltline that let it comfortably sit just below my tail.
Another announcement came on soon after I got my new pants; "Next event starts in one hour, get some practice in before that, you might need it."
[First] [Previous] [Next (coming soon)]
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Author's note: This one took a lot longer than the other ones, although it's released in a shorter time frame, how ironic, i guess? I'm considering making a prologue to the story, probably during the exchange program, if I do, it will also help give some more context to Mick that I tried to expand on with this one.
I hope you enjoyed it, expect the next one... eventually.
Oh, and sorry about any walls of text, that was me trying to fill in to hit my self imposed 3000 word count, and also me not knowing how to effectively write "move, shoot, move again" about 20 times in a row.
submitted by berdistehwerd to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Mick's pistol because I want a cover image
Mick reference
Random drawing of Finn
Memory transcription subject: “Mick”, Venlil, Former mechanical engineer, Gunsmith apprentice
Date [Standardized Human Time]: November 17, 2136
We lined up outside of the facility where our first competition would be held. The official rules would have to be explained to us before we started, as is standard for these events. Finn had already given me most of the knowledge I needed, but I still had to listen to the instructor’s words, unless I wanted to do something wrong and be disqualified.
“Alright, is everyone here?” The instructor shouted. “Nobody unaccounted for? Perfect! I see some new faces here today, so I’m going to have to go over the rules again.”
“First up, the basic safety rules must be followed at all times, no exceptions, ever! Understood?”
The line of about 20 competitors all barked out an affirmative in unison, I followed shortly after.
“Good! Good. Second rule, prioritize safety above all else. If you see someone doing something wrong, or dangerous, or outright stupid, point it out to me or one of the other safety guys around. Understood?”
“Yes sir!” The whole line responded.
The instructor’s presence was quite hard to ignore, it seems this man has a history of yelling at people to get points across to their head.
“Good! Alright, third rule. Have fun, don't die.”
“Yes sir!” we all said again.
“If nobody has any questions, we shall begin! Whoever’s first, go to the line, hands on the door, then wait for instructions. I shall follow suit shortly. When you’re done with the course, make your way up to the catwalk, the view’s great from up there, trust me. For now, sit and wait for your turn.”
Finn turned to me and added onto the instructor’s advice. “Hey Mick, don’t expect to be able to sprint through the whole thing like last time, pace yourself, depending on how they set this up, this course could take anywhere from a minute to 10, we won’t know until we’re both done. They don’t want people to cheat, taking it blind is part of the fun with this style of comp.”
Finn looked a little tense, as if the anticipation was getting to him. I knew it was getting to me too, so no wonder it was getting to him. A while ago, I figured out that I didn’t feel things quite the same as most everyone else did. Things that made others incredibly disgusted only made me a little uncomfortable. I didn’t feel loneliness even after days worth of isolation. All of the time I spent was either working or sleeping, I didn’t feel the need for free time, and I liked having a lot of surplus money, so I worked. That was, at least until I found the exchange program. It paid a decent amount of money, so I was compelled to join up. These humans couldn’t be so bad, plus I needed something new to do. Fortunately, I had previously passed empathy tests, albeit barely. It registered enough of an empathetic response for me to pass undetected. I was legally free of predator disease.
Apparently, a few of the earliest exchange partners had a bug where they could share images, and we had that bug, so I got to see the humans' appearance way earlier than most. Bipedal, tall, forward facing eyes, mostly hairless, wearing textiles to replace their lack of hair. That didn’t bother me too much, unsurprising considering my overall lack of intense emotional response that had prompted the earlier PD screenings.
It had been about [30 minutes], about half the competitors had already gone through the course before us. My turn was up next, and Finn was right after me, we were just waiting for the competitor currently in the course to finish.
A bell chimed, signifying that the last guy had made it through, finishing his run. Finn gave me a pat on the back, a sign that I should get ready to get in there.
“Remember to pace yourself, you know, you can’t run through this behemoth in 20 seconds. Slow and steady will win you the race.” Finn advised.
“Alrighty, next competitor!” The instructor bellowed, almost interrupting Finn’s advice. “Minek the Venlil? You ready?”
“As ready as I'll ever be, I guess.” I said, anticipation and nerves high.
I don’t necessarily like talking to people, particularly the ones I don’t know. Another aspect of why I felt like my home was better set on earth, rather than that sunside town where everyone just had to stop and get to know you. I’m not going back, even under the threat of annihilation, like what nearly happened to all of earth’s inhabitants.
“Make ready, put your hands on the door, your run starts once the timer beeps. If the lights turn red, stop your run immediately, make clear, holster your weapon. Understood?”
“Understood.” I replied.
I seated a new magazine into my pistol, racked the slide, holstered it, and placed my hands on the door. Here was my time to shine, I guess.
“Shooter ready? Standby…”
The moment of silence between the announcer’s callout and the timer’s beep felt like a small eternity.
BEEP!
I popped the door open as quickly as I could, took a high-ready stance, and began steadily advancing through the entrance hallway. There was a door on the left, as I entered it, I see a target standing both behind a target and a hostage. I'm forced to take my time lining up the headshot, KRAK, the target fragments into digital fragments. Another target to the right of it, slam a round through its torso. Move on, 2 targets behind a barricade, one no shoot. Take out both targets swiftly, then take a peek around the next corner. At the last moment, I spot a somewhat hidden cranny in the course right after the hallway, on my left. I backpedal, swing the pistol around the corner, and plant a round square through the chest of a target that was hiding within.
Now actually going down the hallway, there’s another hallway on the right, and a T-junction at the very end. The hallway on the right has 2 targets right next to each other, shoot and no-shoot. I take this quickly, they aren’t overlapped or anything special, just next to each other. I nearly missed because I was still moving when I shot, I needed to take more time lining up, no way I could keep getting this lucky. Left side of the junction has a shoot target, the right side has another hallway to the left of it. The rest of the floor was mostly the same, sending rounds through targets and reloading once, much like the rest of the course, right up until the end of the floor.
I rounded a corner partially blocked by a non-target, to see a small shooting gallery within the killhouse, and a door on the opposite side of the entrance. I have to clear the targets before the door will open, as instructed by the label on it. Two small, circular holograms appear before my eyes, roughly in the middle of the room. Two pops later, my magazine has run out. I haven’t even gotten through my (slightly) practiced reload, when another set of targets appear on the left side of the room. The surprise of more targets caused me to fumble slightly, tapping the magazine against the bottom of the grip. I slap the magazine back into its rightful place within my pistol, tap for good measure, drop the slide, pop the targets. The door remains still, so there are more targets to hit, I reckon. They happened to appear right I thought of them, one close and to the left, the other far and to the right. This forces me to swing my aim across the room, and I nearly missed a target again, barely clipping the right edge of the far target.
Too close, me. Too close. I somehow haven’t missed a target yet, and I intend to keep it that way.
The door finally opened, so I made my way through, and made my way up the stairs that followed the door. At the top of the stairs stood a target peeking over. Almost reflexively, I was steadily advancing past the target, without stopping I put the barrel to the target’s face, then fired. 2 rounds remaining in the magazine. The left side had a familiar set of targets similar to the little practice house. A set of closet like rooms, filled with a couple of shoot and no shoot targets. Bang, round the next corner, bang and a clack. Empty, reload, don’t fumble it this time, another target around the corner, bang.
The next few hallways were similar to the rest, a no shoot around a corner, a shoot target sitting opposite that, then I saw something I hadn't seen earlier. A direction marking on the floor, telling me to walk past the door, to a piece of half-height cover leading into an incredibly long (for this type of scenario) hallway. At the end was a hostage type target, held in such a way that you had to either hit the slightly poking out head, or the very exposed leg sitting out to the right of the target.
I take a bracing pose against the left side of the wall, on the corner. It took me a moment to line it up properly, but I sent a round flying through my target’s lower thigh, causing it to stumble out of line with the hostage, the hostage remaining exactly in its position. That’s interesting, I didn’t know the targets were dynamic like that. I had been “killing” them with direct chest or headshots for every shot that I had hit, so I had never gotten a chance to see these targets actually do their dynamic animations before. I’ll have to ask how that works later. I finished the target off with a nice shot to the chest, after it had fallen to the floor, crippled due to its leg injury. The target fragmented as the holographic display was pierced by my round, double confirming that these targets were still projections.
The door to my left had opened with a clunk a moment after I had shot the target for the second time. I preformed more of the same clearing maneuvers and shooting of targets. A pair of these targets happened to line up, almost perfectly for a collateral shot. I took aim against the target further to the rear, my round propelling itself toward the target with its aim true. It took a path where I thought it would destroy both the near and far target with the same shot, however, the bullet only grazed the first hologram, causing it to stumble backward with its dynamic system. Despite not killing the first target, it still smacked against the rear target with a standard killing shot, fragmenting into its hundreds of red shards that I had become accustomed to.
Advancing further into the labyrinth, I swiftly finished off the wounded target that had stumbled backward into a corner. Just to the right of the target, a sign on the wall pointed me downward, telling me to crawl through a claustrophobic, vent-like passage, about [2 feet] tall. I read the sign, dropped to the floor, and slid down through the little hole in the wall. Out the left of the hole, a target stood waiting for whatever round I planned on giving him, out in the open.
I wonder…
I approached the target, pistol held like a little baton. With as much force as I could for good measure, I slapped the target with the pistol.
Whiff
Seems I was wrong. I place my aim onto the target that I had unsuccessfully slapped, fired, then went to move on. Another target was in a little closet behind it, so I spun around to shoot that one too. This killhouse seemed to span for an eternity, and I thought I must be nearing the end of it soon.
Round the corner, no-shoot target, keep going around the U shaped hallway, another no-shoot target in the middle of the hallway. Pass it by, another bend in the wall, with a shoot target just beyond it. I go to fire my weapon, and…
Click.
The slide is open.
That isn’t supposed to happen, I had 3 rounds left in the magazine!
I take a quick inspection of my gun, a casing got stuck in the chamber, and now was blocking up the entire gun’s mechanism. I had been taught what to do in this situation, the malfunction being called a “double feed,” which could occur more frequently if your gun ran older ammunition, which mine did.
I followed the standard jam-clearing procedure for a double feed, which was to first lock the slide to the rear, remove the magazine, drop the slide and rack again to remove the stuck casing, reinsert the magazine, then rack the slide again to seat a new round. With my jam now cleared, I shot the target in front of me in the face, destroying it instantly. Around the corner sat another set of targets, 2 of them I had to shoot.
I get my aim steady on the first, fire, target destroyed. The slide locked back, alerting me to my state of being out of ammo. I reach for another fresh magazine, and come back empty handed.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
I was completely out of ammo, and making good time up until now.
Melee won’t work, I had just figured that out, I'm out of magazines so I can’t reload even if I needed to, which I certainly did.
AHA!
I had accidentally let the stuck round fall out with the magazine while I was removing it from the gun, so now it was sitting on the floor. I dive over to it, grab the lonesome round off the floor, and carefully insert the round into the chamber of my pistol. This was a technique that you weren’t exactly supposed to do often, as it wears out the extractor much faster, leading to more frequent issues if it’s done too often. I drop the slide, letting the final round I had to my name seat itself within the chamber, ready to fire.
BANG.
The target shattered, the door on my left clunking open to reveal the light of day, and a catwalk to a platform above the range. I walk out, and hear another voice call out.
“Show clear, then holster your weapon. Your time is…187.87 seconds, nice work in there. If you want, go watch from above from that catwalk, the next run’s boutta to start.”
I walked up the stairs, legs quite a bit more fatigued than I expected them to be, although I had just been speed-walking for 3 minutes straight, and my heart was beating faster than I expected, probably due to that moment of panic after having my gun just jam up on me, compounded by the fact that I totally ran out of ammo. I reached the top, took a seat in a nice spot near the edge of the small congregation of other competitors, waiting for Finn to come waltzing through the course. There was a display on the top of the roof, showing us an overlay of the first floor, which would also show us the second floor once the competitor got to the staircase.
A few minutes passed, and I wasn't paying attention to Finn's run, since a few people had asked for me to take pictures with them, which I reluctantly agreed to. I could barely hear it, but the end timer from earlier had spoke up again; “show clear, holster your weapon. Your time is… 178.92, fastest time yet, good stuff.”
I broke away from the group who were trying to ask me questions to meet my friend at the top of the stairs, who acknowledged my completion with a firm ‘high five’, a human gesture I had been taught over my time with him.
“Phew, nice little course, huh Mick?” Finn offered.
“Yea… It was fun, albeit tiring.” I responded, with a tail wag
“I’d bet, worse stamina especially. Anyway, how’d ya do?”
“Slightly worse than you, 187 seconds.”
Wow! Nice, uhm, that’s actually really impressive for someone who’s never done this kinda thing before, how’d ya manage that?”
“Might be because I only ever had to hit the targets once, except for that really long range one, with the hostage?”
“Yea I know the one, tricky bastard to hit without clipping the hostage.”
“Did you know those targets are reactive? Actually yea, you probably do because you volunteer here, right?”
“Yep, I'm guessing that’s how you figured out they are? Shot em’ in the leg so he’d stumble? That’s the easiest way to do it, i reckon, but just moving to the right edge to line up an easier headshot is the more advantageous way to do it.”
“Yea that’s what I figured out. Oh, after that there was one kinda standing out in a hallway that I tried to hit with my pistol, didn’t do anything but since that one actually fell over earlier I was wondering if I could save the ammo, why didn’t hitting it work?”
“If you were actually in a situation where you were running around a big ol’ building trying to murder combatants inside to rescue hostages, do you think you would have the ability to whack someone in the face hard enough to outright kill them instantly? No, no you probably wouldn’t. The target impact system only tracks bullets anyway, punches or strikes don’t move fast enough to register on the system.”
“Oh, interesting. Say, how do the holograms work?”
“No clue, all I know is it has something to do with laser projectors and some weird illusions, then it has motion detectors tuned to a specific zone in space for tracking hits, quite interesting stuff if I do say so myself, even if I don't know how it works.”
“Yea, it is,” I said, not exactly registering what was said, “anyway, I think we should go figure out what the next event is, I don’t want to go into it blind like I would have if you hadn’t made me try the little version first.”
“Alright, follow me then.” Finn said, then began walking down the catwalk, leading me to our next event of the day, which I had been informed was a “long range vintage” event.
We made our way back over to the range we were at before, now situated with targets much further out than the aim trainer I had been using earlier. There were large signs, telling me distance next to little plates with concentric rings around a point in the middle. Finn walked back over to his car, pulled out a rifle box, and came back over to me.
"Ah, the wonders of long range shooting! You ready to learn about physics?" Finn exclaimed, clearly excited.
"No, not really, why do you ask?"
"Long range shooting, and especially extreme range shooting need a lot of little physics calculations for you to actually be able to hit the target from so far away. Bullets are little more than projectiles thrown at high velocity, but there's still things like gravity, wind, and sometimes even the fuckin' Coriolis effect to worry about while your round is flying!"
"Wait, you have to worry about the rotation of the planet while shooting long range? That's insane!"
"I know, right? that's why I love this stuff!"
The next [20 or 30 minutes] were taken up by a lengthy explanation of how a bullet flies, how a spotter and shooter system functions, how a spotter scope works, how to interpret what the spotter says, the list goes on. This had continued until the whistle blasted again, alerting us of another announcement.
"Everyone come over to the podium, we're having an awards ceremony! Be here in 5 minutes or we start without you, if you aren't already over here!" the voice of the instructor from earlier rang out. Finn and I went over to the podium, where a few boxes labeled 1, 2, and 3 resided.
The ceremony went well, apparently I had gotten third place, Finn got second, and someone who had ran after both of us got first.
After the ceremony, we were each handed a box of differing sizes, the winner got a certificate for a free rifle, Finn got a new 'plate carrier', a thing that was made to hold armor and magazines, and I got a pair of cargo pants.
I walked over to the little station they had set up nearby, got a few measurements taken, then was handed an (admittedly very fancy) pair of pants, clearly set up for humans instead of venlil.
Thankfully, I didn't have to modify them so I could wear them, there was already a little bit of a notch in the top of the beltline that let it comfortably sit just below my tail.
Another announcement came on soon after I got my new pants; "Next event starts in one hour, get some practice in before that, you might need it."
[First] [Previous] [Next (coming soon)]
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Author's note: This one took a lot longer than the other ones, although it's released in a shorter time frame, how ironic, i guess? I'm considering making a prologue to the story, probably during the exchange program, if I do, it will also help give some more context to Mick that I tried to expand on with this one.
I hope you enjoyed it, expect the next one... eventually.
Oh, and sorry about any walls of text, that was me trying to fill in to hit my self imposed 3000 word count, and also me not knowing how to effectively write "move, shoot, move again" about 20 times in a row.
2023.05.27 21:43 Dangerous_Sea3607 How TO Become Batman
Disclaimer: This post is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes. The content is not meant to be taken seriously or as a guide for real-life actions. Creating a real-life Batman-like persona would involve illegal activities and is strongly discouraged. Always abide by the law and prioritize personal safety.
Sorry about the 1. thing i cant get rid of it
Martial Arts Training:
While it is challenging to replicate Batman's advanced technology exactly, here are some gadgets and suits that could be reasonably achievable and useful for a crime-fighting vigilante:
Btw 1. is assuming you have around $500,000 to several million dollars.
Classes and Intelligence Development:
To further enhance intelligence and develop a wide range of skills, consider pursuing the following classes and areas of study:
submitted by Dangerous_Sea3607 to DCcomics [link] [comments]
Sorry about the 1. thing i cant get rid of it
Martial Arts Training:
- Krav Maga: Krav Maga is a practical and effective self-defense system that focuses on real-world scenarios, including striking, grappling, and defense against armed attackers.
- Techniques: Learn punches, kicks, knees, elbows, and defenses against chokes, grabs, and weapon threats.
- Training: Attend regular Krav Maga classes or find a certified instructor who can guide your training progression.
- Duration: Dedicate at least 2-3 hours per week to practicing Krav Maga techniques and drills.
- Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu: BJJ is a ground-based martial art focusing on submissions, joint locks, and positional control.
- Techniques: Master fundamental BJJ positions, escapes, submissions, and transitions.
- Training: Find a reputable BJJ academy or instructor to train with and participate in regular sparring sessions.
- Duration: Aim for 2-3 BJJ sessions per week, each lasting 1-2 hours.
- Muay Thai: Known as the "Art of Eight Limbs," Muay Thai combines punches, kicks, knees, and elbows for a comprehensive striking skill set.
- Techniques: Train basic strikes, combinations, clinch work, and defensive techniques.
- Training: Join a Muay Thai gym or seek out qualified instructors to learn and practice the techniques.
- Duration: Engage in 2-3 Muay Thai sessions per week, each lasting 1-2 hours.
- Boxing: Boxing provides solid punching skills, footwork, and defensive maneuvers.
- Techniques: Learn proper stance, footwork, punches (jab, cross, hook, uppercut), and defensive techniques (slips, rolls, blocks).
- Training: Enroll in a boxing gym or find a qualified coach who can guide your training and provide sparring opportunities.
- Duration: Dedicate 2-3 boxing sessions per week, with each session lasting 1-2 hours.
- Eskrima/Kali: These Filipino martial arts specialize in weapon-based fighting and can enhance your overall combat proficiency.
- Techniques: Practice stick and knife fighting techniques, including strikes, disarms, and counters.
- Training: Seek out Eskrima/Kali schools or instructors who can teach you the techniques and provide partner training.
- Duration: Allocate 1-2 hours per week to Eskrima/Kali training and sparring.
- Strength Training: Focus on building functional strength, power, and endurance.
- Exercises: Include compound movements like squats, deadlifts, bench presses, overhead presses, rows, and pull-ups.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-4 sets of 8-12 reps for each exercise, gradually increasing the weights as you progress.
- Frequency: Strength training sessions should be done 3-4 times per week, with at least one day of rest in between.
- Cardiovascular Conditioning: Develop endurance and stamina to sustain physical activity during combat or pursuit situations.
- Activities: Engage in activities like running, cycling, swimming, or high-intensity interval training (HIIT).
- Duration: Aim for at least 30-45 minutes of cardiovascular exercise, 3-5 times per week.
- Intensity: Alternate between moderate intensity (sustained effort) and high intensity (short bursts of maximum effort) workouts.
- Agility and Explosiveness: Enhance speed, agility, and quick reflexes to react swiftly in combat situations.
- Exercises: Incorporate agility ladder drills, cone drills, plyometric exercises, and reaction training.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-5 sets of 5-10 repetitions for each exercise, focusing on explosiveness and quick movements.
- Frequency: Include agility and explosiveness training 2-3 times per week.
- Flexibility and Mobility: Maintain flexibility to enhance movement efficiency, prevent injuries, and improve overall performance.
- Stretching: Perform dynamic stretching exercises before workouts and static stretching exercises after workouts.
- Yoga or Pilates: Consider incorporating regular yoga or Pilates sessions to improve flexibility and core strength.
- Frequency: Aim for stretching or flexibility training 2-3 times per week.
- Bodyweight Conditioning: Develop functional strength, endurance, and body control using bodyweight exercises.
- Exercises: Include push-ups, pull-ups, dips, lunges, squats, planks, and burpees.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-5 sets of 10-15 reps for each exercise, focusing on proper form and controlled movements.
- Frequency: Incorporate bodyweight training 2-3 times per week.
- Meditation and Mindfulness: Cultivate mental focus, clarity, and emotional control through regular meditation and mindfulness practices.
- Techniques: Practice deep breathing, visualization, and mindfulness exercises.
- Duration: Start with 10-15 minutes per day and gradually increase the duration as you progress.
- Frequency: Meditate daily to develop mental resilience and enhance concentration.
- Memory and Cognitive Enhancement: Sharpen memory, cognitive abilities, and problem-solving skills through specific mental exercises.
- Memory Techniques: Utilize mnemonic devices, memory palaces, and memory association techniques.
- Brain Training: Engage in puzzles, Sudoku, crosswords, and memory games regularly to challenge and improve cognitive function.
- Learning New Skills: Continuously learn new skills and subjects to expand your knowledge and mental flexibility.
- Visualization and Mental Rehearsal: Develop the ability to visualize and mentally rehearse combat scenarios and strategies.
- Techniques: Create detailed mental images of fighting scenarios and visualize yourself executing techniques flawlessly.
- Mental Rehearsal: Mentally practice combat scenarios, problem-solving, and decision-making processes.
- Real-World Application: Transfer mental rehearsal to real-life scenarios during training or combat situations.
- Stress Management and Emotional Resilience: Learn techniques to manage stress, regulate emotions, and maintain mental well-being.
- Techniques: Practice deep breathing exercises, progressive muscle relaxation, and positive self-talk.
- Emotional Intelligence: Develop self-awareness, empathy, and emotional regulation skills to maintain composure during challenging situations.
- Seeking Support: Reach out to professionals or support networks if needed to address any emotional or mental health challenges.
- Continual Learning and Adaptability: Embrace a growth mindset and continuously seek knowledge and skills outside of your comfort zone.
- Reading: Read books, articles, and journals related to various subjects, including psychology, strategy, history, and technology.
- Cross-Training: Engage in diverse activities and disciplines to broaden your skill set and stimulate cognitive development.
- Reflective Practice: Regularly reflect on your experiences, successes, and failures to identify areas for improvement and adjust your training accordingly.
- Protein: Consume lean sources of protein such as chicken, turkey, fish, tofu, eggs, and low-fat dairy products. Aim for 1.2-1.6 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight.
- Complex Carbohydrates: Include whole grains, such as brown rice, quinoa, and whole wheat bread, along with fruits and vegetables for sustained energy.
- Healthy Fats: Incorporate sources of healthy fats like avocados, nuts, seeds, olive oil, and fatty fish (salmon, tuna) to support brain function and hormone production.
- Hydration: Stay well-hydrated by drinking plenty of water throughout the day. Avoid excessive consumption of sugary drinks or alcohol.
- Meal Timing: Eat balanced meals consisting of protein, complex carbohydrates, and healthy fats every 3-4 hours to maintain energy levels and support muscle recovery. Include pre-workout and post-workout meals with a balance of carbohydrates and protein.
While it is challenging to replicate Batman's advanced technology exactly, here are some gadgets and suits that could be reasonably achievable and useful for a crime-fighting vigilante:
Btw 1. is assuming you have around $500,000 to several million dollars.
- Protective Suit: The suit is a crucial component of a crime-fighter's arsenal. While replicating Batman's suit exactly may not be possible, a realistic approach would involve incorporating the following elements:
- Ballistic Protection: Construct the suit using advanced, lightweight, and flexible materials that offer protection against ballistic threats, stabbings, and blunt force impacts.
- Impact Resistance: Include shock-absorbing materials or padding in critical areas like the chest, back, shoulders, and limbs to mitigate the impact of physical blows and falls.
- Mobility: Ensure the suit allows for a wide range of motion and flexibility to perform acrobatic movements, combat techniques, and agile maneuvers.
- Enhanced Durability: Reinforce vulnerable areas, such as joints, with reinforced plating or materials to withstand physical stress and prevent injuries.
- Temperature Regulation: Incorporate breathable and moisture-wicking materials to manage body temperature during intense physical activity.
- Concealment: Utilize dark, non-reflective colors and materials to help blend into shadows and reduce visibility in low-light environments.
- Integrated Technology: Integrate technology such as heads-up displays (HUDs), communication systems, and environmental sensors into the suit for enhanced situational awareness and information gathering.
- Utility Pouches: Equip the suit with strategically placed pouches or compartments to carry essential gadgets, tools, and supplies, providing quick and easy access in the field.
- Stealth Capabilities: Incorporate sound-dampening materials and strategic padding to reduce noise and minimize detection by enemies or surveillance systems.
- Respiratory Protection: Include a filtration system to protect against airborne toxins or gases, ensuring the wearer's safety in hazardous environments.
- Integrated Lighting: Install low-profile, adjustable LED lights on the suit to provide illumination in dark areas without compromising stealth.
- Electric Discharge System: Incorporate non-lethal electric discharge mechanisms in the gloves or boots for defensive purposes or as a distraction tool.
- Body Armor: Wear a lightweight, flexible, and ballistic-resistant body armor suit to protect against impacts, cuts, and abrasions without sacrificing mobility.
- Grappling Gun: Develop or acquire a compact grappling gun that utilizes compressed gas or a motorized system for ascending buildings, traversing rooftops, and escaping dangerous situations.
- Non-Lethal Weapons: Carry non-lethal weapons like stun batons, collapsible batons, pepper spray, and taser devices to immobilize or incapacitate adversaries without causing permanent harm.
- Surveillance Equipment: Utilize compact surveillance devices such as miniature cameras, listening devices, GPS trackers, and encrypted communication devices to gather intelligence and monitor criminal activities.
- Stealth Suit: Invest in a specialized stealth suit made of advanced materials with noise-reducing properties, thermal insulation, and improved camouflage capabilities for enhanced stealth and protection.
- Forensic Tools: Acquire portable forensic tools, such as fingerprint kits, DNA collection kits, and evidence collection equipment, to analyze crime scenes and gather evidence.
- Night Vision and Optics: Utilize lightweight night vision goggles, thermal imaging devices, and high-powered binoculars for enhanced visibility in low-light conditions.
- Communication and Data Analysis: Equip yourself with encrypted communication devices, portable computers or tablets for data analysis, and hacking tools to gather and process information.
- Vehicular Assets: If feasible, acquire a high-performance motorcycle or a modified vehicle with advanced navigation, surveillance systems, and defensive capabilities for mobility and transportation.
- Utility Belt: Equip a utility belt with compartments to store various tools and gadgets such as smoke pellets, grappling hooks, throwing stars, a mini flashlight, lock-picking tools, and a multitool.
Classes and Intelligence Development:
To further enhance intelligence and develop a wide range of skills, consider pursuing the following classes and areas of study:
- Forensic Science: Take courses in forensic science, including forensic chemistry, crime scene investigation, fingerprint analysis, and forensic psychology, to develop expertise in evidence analysis and criminal investigation.
- Computer Science and Cybersecurity: Learn computer programming, cybersecurity, data analysis, and digital forensics to effectively gather information, track criminals, and protect sensitive data.
- Criminology and Psychology: Study criminology, abnormal psychology, criminal behavior, and profiling techniques to understand the mindset of criminals and predict their actions.
- Tactical Training: Enroll in tactical training programs offered by law enforcement or military organizations to learn strategic planning, field operations, and combat tactics.
- Emergency Medical Training: Acquire training in first aid, emergency medical response, and trauma care to provide immediate medical assistance in the field.
- Strategic Planning and Leadership: Develop skills in strategic planning, decision-making, and leadership through courses or workshops focused on organizational management and effective communication.
- Languages and Cultural Studies: Learn foreign languages and cultural studies to facilitate communication, gather information, and navigate diverse environments.
- Physical and Mental Strain: Maintaining peak physical condition and enduring rigorous training can put a significant strain on the body and mind. Be prepared for intense physical exertion, potential injuries, and the need for disciplined mental fortitude to push through challenges.
- Time Management and Sacrifices: Becoming like Batman requires an immense commitment of time and dedication. Be ready to sacrifice personal relationships, leisure activities, and potentially even aspects of a "normal" life in order to maintain a rigorous training and crime-fighting schedule.
- Financial Resources: Emulating Batman's lifestyle can be financially demanding. Building and maintaining high-tech gadgets, acquiring specialized training, and funding crime-fighting operations require significant financial resources. Be prepared to invest in your training and equipment or find alternative means of resourcefulness.
- Legal and Ethical Boundaries: Vigilante justice operates outside the boundaries of the law. Be aware of the legal and ethical implications of taking the law into your own hands, as well as the potential consequences if you are caught or accused of wrongdoing.
- Isolation and Loneliness: Pursuing a solitary life as a crime-fighter can lead to feelings of isolation and loneliness. Prepare for a lifestyle that may distance you from others and consider finding ways to maintain emotional well-being and a support system.
- Mental Health Challenges: Constant exposure to crime, violence, and trauma can have a profound impact on mental health. Be aware of the potential for post-traumatic stress, anxiety, or other psychological challenges, and seek professional help if needed.
- Personal Safety and Risk: Engaging in vigilantism inherently involves putting yourself in dangerous situations. Prepare for physical confrontations, the risk of injury or harm, and the potential for retaliation from criminal elements.
- Balancing Justice and Morality: Striking the right balance between the pursuit of justice and maintaining a moral compass can be challenging. Be ready to navigate moral dilemmas, difficult decisions, and the consequences that come with enforcing your own version of justice.
2023.05.27 21:36 Dangerous_Sea3607 HOW TO BECOME BATMAN
Disclaimer: This post is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes. The content is not meant to be taken seriously or as a guide for real-life actions. Creating a real-life Batman-like persona would involve illegal activities and is strongly discouraged. Always abide by the law and prioritize personal safety.
Sorry about the 1. thing i cant get rid of it
Martial Arts Training:
While it is challenging to replicate Batman's advanced technology exactly, here are some gadgets and suits that could be reasonably achievable and useful for a crime-fighting vigilante:
Btw 1. is assuming you have around $500,000 to several million dollars.
Classes and Intelligence Development:
To further enhance intelligence and develop a wide range of skills, consider pursuing the following classes and areas of study:
submitted by Dangerous_Sea3607 to batman_comics [link] [comments]
Sorry about the 1. thing i cant get rid of it
Martial Arts Training:
- Krav Maga: Krav Maga is a practical and effective self-defense system that focuses on real-world scenarios, including striking, grappling, and defense against armed attackers.
- Techniques: Learn punches, kicks, knees, elbows, and defenses against chokes, grabs, and weapon threats.
- Training: Attend regular Krav Maga classes or find a certified instructor who can guide your training progression.
- Duration: Dedicate at least 2-3 hours per week to practicing Krav Maga techniques and drills.
- Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu: BJJ is a ground-based martial art focusing on submissions, joint locks, and positional control.
- Techniques: Master fundamental BJJ positions, escapes, submissions, and transitions.
- Training: Find a reputable BJJ academy or instructor to train with and participate in regular sparring sessions.
- Duration: Aim for 2-3 BJJ sessions per week, each lasting 1-2 hours.
- Muay Thai: Known as the "Art of Eight Limbs," Muay Thai combines punches, kicks, knees, and elbows for a comprehensive striking skill set.
- Techniques: Train basic strikes, combinations, clinch work, and defensive techniques.
- Training: Join a Muay Thai gym or seek out qualified instructors to learn and practice the techniques.
- Duration: Engage in 2-3 Muay Thai sessions per week, each lasting 1-2 hours.
- Boxing: Boxing provides solid punching skills, footwork, and defensive maneuvers.
- Techniques: Learn proper stance, footwork, punches (jab, cross, hook, uppercut), and defensive techniques (slips, rolls, blocks).
- Training: Enroll in a boxing gym or find a qualified coach who can guide your training and provide sparring opportunities.
- Duration: Dedicate 2-3 boxing sessions per week, with each session lasting 1-2 hours.
- Eskrima/Kali: These Filipino martial arts specialize in weapon-based fighting and can enhance your overall combat proficiency.
- Techniques: Practice stick and knife fighting techniques, including strikes, disarms, and counters.
- Training: Seek out Eskrima/Kali schools or instructors who can teach you the techniques and provide partner training.
- Duration: Allocate 1-2 hours per week to Eskrima/Kali training and sparring.
- Strength Training: Focus on building functional strength, power, and endurance.
- Exercises: Include compound movements like squats, deadlifts, bench presses, overhead presses, rows, and pull-ups.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-4 sets of 8-12 reps for each exercise, gradually increasing the weights as you progress.
- Frequency: Strength training sessions should be done 3-4 times per week, with at least one day of rest in between.
- Cardiovascular Conditioning: Develop endurance and stamina to sustain physical activity during combat or pursuit situations.
- Activities: Engage in activities like running, cycling, swimming, or high-intensity interval training (HIIT).
- Duration: Aim for at least 30-45 minutes of cardiovascular exercise, 3-5 times per week.
- Intensity: Alternate between moderate intensity (sustained effort) and high intensity (short bursts of maximum effort) workouts.
- Agility and Explosiveness: Enhance speed, agility, and quick reflexes to react swiftly in combat situations.
- Exercises: Incorporate agility ladder drills, cone drills, plyometric exercises, and reaction training.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-5 sets of 5-10 repetitions for each exercise, focusing on explosiveness and quick movements.
- Frequency: Include agility and explosiveness training 2-3 times per week.
- Flexibility and Mobility: Maintain flexibility to enhance movement efficiency, prevent injuries, and improve overall performance.
- Stretching: Perform dynamic stretching exercises before workouts and static stretching exercises after workouts.
- Yoga or Pilates: Consider incorporating regular yoga or Pilates sessions to improve flexibility and core strength.
- Frequency: Aim for stretching or flexibility training 2-3 times per week.
- Bodyweight Conditioning: Develop functional strength, endurance, and body control using bodyweight exercises.
- Exercises: Include push-ups, pull-ups, dips, lunges, squats, planks, and burpees.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-5 sets of 10-15 reps for each exercise, focusing on proper form and controlled movements.
- Frequency: Incorporate bodyweight training 2-3 times per week.
- Meditation and Mindfulness: Cultivate mental focus, clarity, and emotional control through regular meditation and mindfulness practices.
- Techniques: Practice deep breathing, visualization, and mindfulness exercises.
- Duration: Start with 10-15 minutes per day and gradually increase the duration as you progress.
- Frequency: Meditate daily to develop mental resilience and enhance concentration.
- Memory and Cognitive Enhancement: Sharpen memory, cognitive abilities, and problem-solving skills through specific mental exercises.
- Memory Techniques: Utilize mnemonic devices, memory palaces, and memory association techniques.
- Brain Training: Engage in puzzles, Sudoku, crosswords, and memory games regularly to challenge and improve cognitive function.
- Learning New Skills: Continuously learn new skills and subjects to expand your knowledge and mental flexibility.
- Visualization and Mental Rehearsal: Develop the ability to visualize and mentally rehearse combat scenarios and strategies.
- Techniques: Create detailed mental images of fighting scenarios and visualize yourself executing techniques flawlessly.
- Mental Rehearsal: Mentally practice combat scenarios, problem-solving, and decision-making processes.
- Real-World Application: Transfer mental rehearsal to real-life scenarios during training or combat situations.
- Stress Management and Emotional Resilience: Learn techniques to manage stress, regulate emotions, and maintain mental well-being.
- Techniques: Practice deep breathing exercises, progressive muscle relaxation, and positive self-talk.
- Emotional Intelligence: Develop self-awareness, empathy, and emotional regulation skills to maintain composure during challenging situations.
- Seeking Support: Reach out to professionals or support networks if needed to address any emotional or mental health challenges.
- Continual Learning and Adaptability: Embrace a growth mindset and continuously seek knowledge and skills outside of your comfort zone.
- Reading: Read books, articles, and journals related to various subjects, including psychology, strategy, history, and technology.
- Cross-Training: Engage in diverse activities and disciplines to broaden your skill set and stimulate cognitive development.
- Reflective Practice: Regularly reflect on your experiences, successes, and failures to identify areas for improvement and adjust your training accordingly.
- Protein: Consume lean sources of protein such as chicken, turkey, fish, tofu, eggs, and low-fat dairy products. Aim for 1.2-1.6 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight.
- Complex Carbohydrates: Include whole grains, such as brown rice, quinoa, and whole wheat bread, along with fruits and vegetables for sustained energy.
- Healthy Fats: Incorporate sources of healthy fats like avocados, nuts, seeds, olive oil, and fatty fish (salmon, tuna) to support brain function and hormone production.
- Hydration: Stay well-hydrated by drinking plenty of water throughout the day. Avoid excessive consumption of sugary drinks or alcohol.
- Meal Timing: Eat balanced meals consisting of protein, complex carbohydrates, and healthy fats every 3-4 hours to maintain energy levels and support muscle recovery. Include pre-workout and post-workout meals with a balance of carbohydrates and protein.
While it is challenging to replicate Batman's advanced technology exactly, here are some gadgets and suits that could be reasonably achievable and useful for a crime-fighting vigilante:
Btw 1. is assuming you have around $500,000 to several million dollars.
- Protective Suit: The suit is a crucial component of a crime-fighter's arsenal. While replicating Batman's suit exactly may not be possible, a realistic approach would involve incorporating the following elements:
- Ballistic Protection: Construct the suit using advanced, lightweight, and flexible materials that offer protection against ballistic threats, stabbings, and blunt force impacts.
- Impact Resistance: Include shock-absorbing materials or padding in critical areas like the chest, back, shoulders, and limbs to mitigate the impact of physical blows and falls.
- Mobility: Ensure the suit allows for a wide range of motion and flexibility to perform acrobatic movements, combat techniques, and agile maneuvers.
- Enhanced Durability: Reinforce vulnerable areas, such as joints, with reinforced plating or materials to withstand physical stress and prevent injuries.
- Temperature Regulation: Incorporate breathable and moisture-wicking materials to manage body temperature during intense physical activity.
- Concealment: Utilize dark, non-reflective colors and materials to help blend into shadows and reduce visibility in low-light environments.
- Integrated Technology: Integrate technology such as heads-up displays (HUDs), communication systems, and environmental sensors into the suit for enhanced situational awareness and information gathering.
- Utility Pouches: Equip the suit with strategically placed pouches or compartments to carry essential gadgets, tools, and supplies, providing quick and easy access in the field.
- Stealth Capabilities: Incorporate sound-dampening materials and strategic padding to reduce noise and minimize detection by enemies or surveillance systems.
- Respiratory Protection: Include a filtration system to protect against airborne toxins or gases, ensuring the wearer's safety in hazardous environments.
- Integrated Lighting: Install low-profile, adjustable LED lights on the suit to provide illumination in dark areas without compromising stealth.
- Electric Discharge System: Incorporate non-lethal electric discharge mechanisms in the gloves or boots for defensive purposes or as a distraction tool.
- Body Armor: Wear a lightweight, flexible, and ballistic-resistant body armor suit to protect against impacts, cuts, and abrasions without sacrificing mobility.
- Grappling Gun: Develop or acquire a compact grappling gun that utilizes compressed gas or a motorized system for ascending buildings, traversing rooftops, and escaping dangerous situations.
- Non-Lethal Weapons: Carry non-lethal weapons like stun batons, collapsible batons, pepper spray, and taser devices to immobilize or incapacitate adversaries without causing permanent harm.
- Surveillance Equipment: Utilize compact surveillance devices such as miniature cameras, listening devices, GPS trackers, and encrypted communication devices to gather intelligence and monitor criminal activities.
- Stealth Suit: Invest in a specialized stealth suit made of advanced materials with noise-reducing properties, thermal insulation, and improved camouflage capabilities for enhanced stealth and protection.
- Forensic Tools: Acquire portable forensic tools, such as fingerprint kits, DNA collection kits, and evidence collection equipment, to analyze crime scenes and gather evidence.
- Night Vision and Optics: Utilize lightweight night vision goggles, thermal imaging devices, and high-powered binoculars for enhanced visibility in low-light conditions.
- Communication and Data Analysis: Equip yourself with encrypted communication devices, portable computers or tablets for data analysis, and hacking tools to gather and process information.
- Vehicular Assets: If feasible, acquire a high-performance motorcycle or a modified vehicle with advanced navigation, surveillance systems, and defensive capabilities for mobility and transportation.
- Utility Belt: Equip a utility belt with compartments to store various tools and gadgets such as smoke pellets, grappling hooks, throwing stars, a mini flashlight, lock-picking tools, and a multitool.
Classes and Intelligence Development:
To further enhance intelligence and develop a wide range of skills, consider pursuing the following classes and areas of study:
- Forensic Science: Take courses in forensic science, including forensic chemistry, crime scene investigation, fingerprint analysis, and forensic psychology, to develop expertise in evidence analysis and criminal investigation.
- Computer Science and Cybersecurity: Learn computer programming, cybersecurity, data analysis, and digital forensics to effectively gather information, track criminals, and protect sensitive data.
- Criminology and Psychology: Study criminology, abnormal psychology, criminal behavior, and profiling techniques to understand the mindset of criminals and predict their actions.
- Tactical Training: Enroll in tactical training programs offered by law enforcement or military organizations to learn strategic planning, field operations, and combat tactics.
- Emergency Medical Training: Acquire training in first aid, emergency medical response, and trauma care to provide immediate medical assistance in the field.
- Strategic Planning and Leadership: Develop skills in strategic planning, decision-making, and leadership through courses or workshops focused on organizational management and effective communication.
- Languages and Cultural Studies: Learn foreign languages and cultural studies to facilitate communication, gather information, and navigate diverse environments.
- Physical and Mental Strain: Maintaining peak physical condition and enduring rigorous training can put a significant strain on the body and mind. Be prepared for intense physical exertion, potential injuries, and the need for disciplined mental fortitude to push through challenges.
- Time Management and Sacrifices: Becoming like Batman requires an immense commitment of time and dedication. Be ready to sacrifice personal relationships, leisure activities, and potentially even aspects of a "normal" life in order to maintain a rigorous training and crime-fighting schedule.
- Financial Resources: Emulating Batman's lifestyle can be financially demanding. Building and maintaining high-tech gadgets, acquiring specialized training, and funding crime-fighting operations require significant financial resources. Be prepared to invest in your training and equipment or find alternative means of resourcefulness.
- Legal and Ethical Boundaries: Vigilante justice operates outside the boundaries of the law. Be aware of the legal and ethical implications of taking the law into your own hands, as well as the potential consequences if you are caught or accused of wrongdoing.
- Isolation and Loneliness: Pursuing a solitary life as a crime-fighter can lead to feelings of isolation and loneliness. Prepare for a lifestyle that may distance you from others and consider finding ways to maintain emotional well-being and a support system.
- Mental Health Challenges: Constant exposure to crime, violence, and trauma can have a profound impact on mental health. Be aware of the potential for post-traumatic stress, anxiety, or other psychological challenges, and seek professional help if needed.
- Personal Safety and Risk: Engaging in vigilantism inherently involves putting yourself in dangerous situations. Prepare for physical confrontations, the risk of injury or harm, and the potential for retaliation from criminal elements.
- Balancing Justice and Morality: Striking the right balance between the pursuit of justice and maintaining a moral compass can be challenging. Be ready to navigate moral dilemmas, difficult decisions, and the consequences that come with enforcing your own version of justice.
2023.05.27 21:35 Dangerous_Sea3607 How To Become Batman
Disclaimer: This post is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes. The content is not meant to be taken seriously or as a guide for real-life actions. Creating a real-life Batman-like persona would involve illegal activities and is strongly discouraged. Always abide by the law and prioritize personal safety.
Sorry about the 1. thing i cant get rid of it
Martial Arts Training:
While it is challenging to replicate Batman's advanced technology exactly, here are some gadgets and suits that could be reasonably achievable and useful for a crime-fighting vigilante:
Btw 1. is assuming you have around $500,000 to several million dollars.
Classes and Intelligence Development:
To further enhance intelligence and develop a wide range of skills, consider pursuing the following classes and areas of study:
submitted by Dangerous_Sea3607 to BatmanArkham [link] [comments]
Sorry about the 1. thing i cant get rid of it
Martial Arts Training:
- Krav Maga: Krav Maga is a practical and effective self-defense system that focuses on real-world scenarios, including striking, grappling, and defense against armed attackers.
- Techniques: Learn punches, kicks, knees, elbows, and defenses against chokes, grabs, and weapon threats.
- Training: Attend regular Krav Maga classes or find a certified instructor who can guide your training progression.
- Duration: Dedicate at least 2-3 hours per week to practicing Krav Maga techniques and drills.
- Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu: BJJ is a ground-based martial art focusing on submissions, joint locks, and positional control.
- Techniques: Master fundamental BJJ positions, escapes, submissions, and transitions.
- Training: Find a reputable BJJ academy or instructor to train with and participate in regular sparring sessions.
- Duration: Aim for 2-3 BJJ sessions per week, each lasting 1-2 hours.
- Muay Thai: Known as the "Art of Eight Limbs," Muay Thai combines punches, kicks, knees, and elbows for a comprehensive striking skill set.
- Techniques: Train basic strikes, combinations, clinch work, and defensive techniques.
- Training: Join a Muay Thai gym or seek out qualified instructors to learn and practice the techniques.
- Duration: Engage in 2-3 Muay Thai sessions per week, each lasting 1-2 hours.
- Boxing: Boxing provides solid punching skills, footwork, and defensive maneuvers.
- Techniques: Learn proper stance, footwork, punches (jab, cross, hook, uppercut), and defensive techniques (slips, rolls, blocks).
- Training: Enroll in a boxing gym or find a qualified coach who can guide your training and provide sparring opportunities.
- Duration: Dedicate 2-3 boxing sessions per week, with each session lasting 1-2 hours.
- Eskrima/Kali: These Filipino martial arts specialize in weapon-based fighting and can enhance your overall combat proficiency.
- Techniques: Practice stick and knife fighting techniques, including strikes, disarms, and counters.
- Training: Seek out Eskrima/Kali schools or instructors who can teach you the techniques and provide partner training.
- Duration: Allocate 1-2 hours per week to Eskrima/Kali training and sparring.
- Strength Training: Focus on building functional strength, power, and endurance.
- Exercises: Include compound movements like squats, deadlifts, bench presses, overhead presses, rows, and pull-ups.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-4 sets of 8-12 reps for each exercise, gradually increasing the weights as you progress.
- Frequency: Strength training sessions should be done 3-4 times per week, with at least one day of rest in between.
- Cardiovascular Conditioning: Develop endurance and stamina to sustain physical activity during combat or pursuit situations.
- Activities: Engage in activities like running, cycling, swimming, or high-intensity interval training (HIIT).
- Duration: Aim for at least 30-45 minutes of cardiovascular exercise, 3-5 times per week.
- Intensity: Alternate between moderate intensity (sustained effort) and high intensity (short bursts of maximum effort) workouts.
- Agility and Explosiveness: Enhance speed, agility, and quick reflexes to react swiftly in combat situations.
- Exercises: Incorporate agility ladder drills, cone drills, plyometric exercises, and reaction training.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-5 sets of 5-10 repetitions for each exercise, focusing on explosiveness and quick movements.
- Frequency: Include agility and explosiveness training 2-3 times per week.
- Flexibility and Mobility: Maintain flexibility to enhance movement efficiency, prevent injuries, and improve overall performance.
- Stretching: Perform dynamic stretching exercises before workouts and static stretching exercises after workouts.
- Yoga or Pilates: Consider incorporating regular yoga or Pilates sessions to improve flexibility and core strength.
- Frequency: Aim for stretching or flexibility training 2-3 times per week.
- Bodyweight Conditioning: Develop functional strength, endurance, and body control using bodyweight exercises.
- Exercises: Include push-ups, pull-ups, dips, lunges, squats, planks, and burpees.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-5 sets of 10-15 reps for each exercise, focusing on proper form and controlled movements.
- Frequency: Incorporate bodyweight training 2-3 times per week.
- Meditation and Mindfulness: Cultivate mental focus, clarity, and emotional control through regular meditation and mindfulness practices.
- Techniques: Practice deep breathing, visualization, and mindfulness exercises.
- Duration: Start with 10-15 minutes per day and gradually increase the duration as you progress.
- Frequency: Meditate daily to develop mental resilience and enhance concentration.
- Memory and Cognitive Enhancement: Sharpen memory, cognitive abilities, and problem-solving skills through specific mental exercises.
- Memory Techniques: Utilize mnemonic devices, memory palaces, and memory association techniques.
- Brain Training: Engage in puzzles, Sudoku, crosswords, and memory games regularly to challenge and improve cognitive function.
- Learning New Skills: Continuously learn new skills and subjects to expand your knowledge and mental flexibility.
- Visualization and Mental Rehearsal: Develop the ability to visualize and mentally rehearse combat scenarios and strategies.
- Techniques: Create detailed mental images of fighting scenarios and visualize yourself executing techniques flawlessly.
- Mental Rehearsal: Mentally practice combat scenarios, problem-solving, and decision-making processes.
- Real-World Application: Transfer mental rehearsal to real-life scenarios during training or combat situations.
- Stress Management and Emotional Resilience: Learn techniques to manage stress, regulate emotions, and maintain mental well-being.
- Techniques: Practice deep breathing exercises, progressive muscle relaxation, and positive self-talk.
- Emotional Intelligence: Develop self-awareness, empathy, and emotional regulation skills to maintain composure during challenging situations.
- Seeking Support: Reach out to professionals or support networks if needed to address any emotional or mental health challenges.
- Continual Learning and Adaptability: Embrace a growth mindset and continuously seek knowledge and skills outside of your comfort zone.
- Reading: Read books, articles, and journals related to various subjects, including psychology, strategy, history, and technology.
- Cross-Training: Engage in diverse activities and disciplines to broaden your skill set and stimulate cognitive development.
- Reflective Practice: Regularly reflect on your experiences, successes, and failures to identify areas for improvement and adjust your training accordingly.
- Protein: Consume lean sources of protein such as chicken, turkey, fish, tofu, eggs, and low-fat dairy products. Aim for 1.2-1.6 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight.
- Complex Carbohydrates: Include whole grains, such as brown rice, quinoa, and whole wheat bread, along with fruits and vegetables for sustained energy.
- Healthy Fats: Incorporate sources of healthy fats like avocados, nuts, seeds, olive oil, and fatty fish (salmon, tuna) to support brain function and hormone production.
- Hydration: Stay well-hydrated by drinking plenty of water throughout the day. Avoid excessive consumption of sugary drinks or alcohol.
- Meal Timing: Eat balanced meals consisting of protein, complex carbohydrates, and healthy fats every 3-4 hours to maintain energy levels and support muscle recovery. Include pre-workout and post-workout meals with a balance of carbohydrates and protein.
While it is challenging to replicate Batman's advanced technology exactly, here are some gadgets and suits that could be reasonably achievable and useful for a crime-fighting vigilante:
Btw 1. is assuming you have around $500,000 to several million dollars.
- Protective Suit: The suit is a crucial component of a crime-fighter's arsenal. While replicating Batman's suit exactly may not be possible, a realistic approach would involve incorporating the following elements:
- Ballistic Protection: Construct the suit using advanced, lightweight, and flexible materials that offer protection against ballistic threats, stabbings, and blunt force impacts.
- Impact Resistance: Include shock-absorbing materials or padding in critical areas like the chest, back, shoulders, and limbs to mitigate the impact of physical blows and falls.
- Mobility: Ensure the suit allows for a wide range of motion and flexibility to perform acrobatic movements, combat techniques, and agile maneuvers.
- Enhanced Durability: Reinforce vulnerable areas, such as joints, with reinforced plating or materials to withstand physical stress and prevent injuries.
- Temperature Regulation: Incorporate breathable and moisture-wicking materials to manage body temperature during intense physical activity.
- Concealment: Utilize dark, non-reflective colors and materials to help blend into shadows and reduce visibility in low-light environments.
- Integrated Technology: Integrate technology such as heads-up displays (HUDs), communication systems, and environmental sensors into the suit for enhanced situational awareness and information gathering.
- Utility Pouches: Equip the suit with strategically placed pouches or compartments to carry essential gadgets, tools, and supplies, providing quick and easy access in the field.
- Stealth Capabilities: Incorporate sound-dampening materials and strategic padding to reduce noise and minimize detection by enemies or surveillance systems.
- Respiratory Protection: Include a filtration system to protect against airborne toxins or gases, ensuring the wearer's safety in hazardous environments.
- Integrated Lighting: Install low-profile, adjustable LED lights on the suit to provide illumination in dark areas without compromising stealth.
- Electric Discharge System: Incorporate non-lethal electric discharge mechanisms in the gloves or boots for defensive purposes or as a distraction tool.
- Body Armor: Wear a lightweight, flexible, and ballistic-resistant body armor suit to protect against impacts, cuts, and abrasions without sacrificing mobility.
- Grappling Gun: Develop or acquire a compact grappling gun that utilizes compressed gas or a motorized system for ascending buildings, traversing rooftops, and escaping dangerous situations.
- Non-Lethal Weapons: Carry non-lethal weapons like stun batons, collapsible batons, pepper spray, and taser devices to immobilize or incapacitate adversaries without causing permanent harm.
- Surveillance Equipment: Utilize compact surveillance devices such as miniature cameras, listening devices, GPS trackers, and encrypted communication devices to gather intelligence and monitor criminal activities.
- Stealth Suit: Invest in a specialized stealth suit made of advanced materials with noise-reducing properties, thermal insulation, and improved camouflage capabilities for enhanced stealth and protection.
- Forensic Tools: Acquire portable forensic tools, such as fingerprint kits, DNA collection kits, and evidence collection equipment, to analyze crime scenes and gather evidence.
- Night Vision and Optics: Utilize lightweight night vision goggles, thermal imaging devices, and high-powered binoculars for enhanced visibility in low-light conditions.
- Communication and Data Analysis: Equip yourself with encrypted communication devices, portable computers or tablets for data analysis, and hacking tools to gather and process information.
- Vehicular Assets: If feasible, acquire a high-performance motorcycle or a modified vehicle with advanced navigation, surveillance systems, and defensive capabilities for mobility and transportation.
- Utility Belt: Equip a utility belt with compartments to store various tools and gadgets such as smoke pellets, grappling hooks, throwing stars, a mini flashlight, lock-picking tools, and a multitool.
Classes and Intelligence Development:
To further enhance intelligence and develop a wide range of skills, consider pursuing the following classes and areas of study:
- Forensic Science: Take courses in forensic science, including forensic chemistry, crime scene investigation, fingerprint analysis, and forensic psychology, to develop expertise in evidence analysis and criminal investigation.
- Computer Science and Cybersecurity: Learn computer programming, cybersecurity, data analysis, and digital forensics to effectively gather information, track criminals, and protect sensitive data.
- Criminology and Psychology: Study criminology, abnormal psychology, criminal behavior, and profiling techniques to understand the mindset of criminals and predict their actions.
- Tactical Training: Enroll in tactical training programs offered by law enforcement or military organizations to learn strategic planning, field operations, and combat tactics.
- Emergency Medical Training: Acquire training in first aid, emergency medical response, and trauma care to provide immediate medical assistance in the field.
- Strategic Planning and Leadership: Develop skills in strategic planning, decision-making, and leadership through courses or workshops focused on organizational management and effective communication.
- Languages and Cultural Studies: Learn foreign languages and cultural studies to facilitate communication, gather information, and navigate diverse environments.
- Physical and Mental Strain: Maintaining peak physical condition and enduring rigorous training can put a significant strain on the body and mind. Be prepared for intense physical exertion, potential injuries, and the need for disciplined mental fortitude to push through challenges.
- Time Management and Sacrifices: Becoming like Batman requires an immense commitment of time and dedication. Be ready to sacrifice personal relationships, leisure activities, and potentially even aspects of a "normal" life in order to maintain a rigorous training and crime-fighting schedule.
- Financial Resources: Emulating Batman's lifestyle can be financially demanding. Building and maintaining high-tech gadgets, acquiring specialized training, and funding crime-fighting operations require significant financial resources. Be prepared to invest in your training and equipment or find alternative means of resourcefulness.
- Legal and Ethical Boundaries: Vigilante justice operates outside the boundaries of the law. Be aware of the legal and ethical implications of taking the law into your own hands, as well as the potential consequences if you are caught or accused of wrongdoing.
- Isolation and Loneliness: Pursuing a solitary life as a crime-fighter can lead to feelings of isolation and loneliness. Prepare for a lifestyle that may distance you from others and consider finding ways to maintain emotional well-being and a support system.
- Mental Health Challenges: Constant exposure to crime, violence, and trauma can have a profound impact on mental health. Be aware of the potential for post-traumatic stress, anxiety, or other psychological challenges, and seek professional help if needed.
- Personal Safety and Risk: Engaging in vigilantism inherently involves putting yourself in dangerous situations. Prepare for physical confrontations, the risk of injury or harm, and the potential for retaliation from criminal elements.
- Balancing Justice and Morality: Striking the right balance between the pursuit of justice and maintaining a moral compass can be challenging. Be ready to navigate moral dilemmas, difficult decisions, and the consequences that come with enforcing your own version of justice.
2023.05.27 21:27 Dangerous_Sea3607 How To Become Batman
Disclaimer: This post is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes. The content is not meant to be taken seriously or as a guide for real-life actions. Creating a real-life Batman-like persona would involve illegal activities and is strongly discouraged. Always abide by the law and prioritize personal safety.
Sorry about the 1. thing i cant get rid of it
Martial Arts Training:
While it is challenging to replicate Batman's advanced technology exactly, here are some gadgets and suits that could be reasonably achievable and useful for a crime-fighting vigilante:
Btw 1. is assuming you have around $500,000 to several million dollars.
Note: It's important to remember that developing or acquiring such gadgets and suits would require substantial resources, technical expertise, and compliance with legal and ethical boundaries.
Classes and Intelligence Development:
To further enhance intelligence and develop a wide range of skills, consider pursuing the following classes and areas of study:
Now here are the Problems
submitted by Dangerous_Sea3607 to batman [link] [comments]
Sorry about the 1. thing i cant get rid of it
Martial Arts Training:
- Krav Maga: Krav Maga is a practical and effective self-defense system that focuses on real-world scenarios, including striking, grappling, and defense against armed attackers.
- Techniques: Learn punches, kicks, knees, elbows, and defenses against chokes, grabs, and weapon threats.
- Training: Attend regular Krav Maga classes or find a certified instructor who can guide your training progression.
- Duration: Dedicate at least 2-3 hours per week to practicing Krav Maga techniques and drills.
- Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu: BJJ is a ground-based martial art focusing on submissions, joint locks, and positional control.
- Techniques: Master fundamental BJJ positions, escapes, submissions, and transitions.
- Training: Find a reputable BJJ academy or instructor to train with and participate in regular sparring sessions.
- Duration: Aim for 2-3 BJJ sessions per week, each lasting 1-2 hours.
- Muay Thai: Known as the "Art of Eight Limbs," Muay Thai combines punches, kicks, knees, and elbows for a comprehensive striking skill set.
- Techniques: Train basic strikes, combinations, clinch work, and defensive techniques.
- Training: Join a Muay Thai gym or seek out qualified instructors to learn and practice the techniques.
- Duration: Engage in 2-3 Muay Thai sessions per week, each lasting 1-2 hours.
- Boxing: Boxing provides solid punching skills, footwork, and defensive maneuvers.
- Techniques: Learn proper stance, footwork, punches (jab, cross, hook, uppercut), and defensive techniques (slips, rolls, blocks).
- Training: Enroll in a boxing gym or find a qualified coach who can guide your training and provide sparring opportunities.
- Duration: Dedicate 2-3 boxing sessions per week, with each session lasting 1-2 hours.
- Eskrima/Kali: These Filipino martial arts specialize in weapon-based fighting and can enhance your overall combat proficiency.
- Techniques: Practice stick and knife fighting techniques, including strikes, disarms, and counters.
- Training: Seek out Eskrima/Kali schools or instructors who can teach you the techniques and provide partner training.
- Duration: Allocate 1-2 hours per week to Eskrima/Kali training and sparring.
- Strength Training: Focus on building functional strength, power, and endurance.
- Exercises: Include compound movements like squats, deadlifts, bench presses, overhead presses, rows, and pull-ups.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-4 sets of 8-12 reps for each exercise, gradually increasing the weights as you progress.
- Frequency: Strength training sessions should be done 3-4 times per week, with at least one day of rest in between.
- Cardiovascular Conditioning: Develop endurance and stamina to sustain physical activity during combat or pursuit situations.
- Activities: Engage in activities like running, cycling, swimming, or high-intensity interval training (HIIT).
- Duration: Aim for at least 30-45 minutes of cardiovascular exercise, 3-5 times per week.
- Intensity: Alternate between moderate intensity (sustained effort) and high intensity (short bursts of maximum effort) workouts.
- Agility and Explosiveness: Enhance speed, agility, and quick reflexes to react swiftly in combat situations.
- Exercises: Incorporate agility ladder drills, cone drills, plyometric exercises, and reaction training.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-5 sets of 5-10 repetitions for each exercise, focusing on explosiveness and quick movements.
- Frequency: Include agility and explosiveness training 2-3 times per week.
- Flexibility and Mobility: Maintain flexibility to enhance movement efficiency, prevent injuries, and improve overall performance.
- Stretching: Perform dynamic stretching exercises before workouts and static stretching exercises after workouts.
- Yoga or Pilates: Consider incorporating regular yoga or Pilates sessions to improve flexibility and core strength.
- Frequency: Aim for stretching or flexibility training 2-3 times per week.
- Bodyweight Conditioning: Develop functional strength, endurance, and body control using bodyweight exercises.
- Exercises: Include push-ups, pull-ups, dips, lunges, squats, planks, and burpees.
- Sets and Reps: Perform 3-5 sets of 10-15 reps for each exercise, focusing on proper form and controlled movements.
- Frequency: Incorporate bodyweight training 2-3 times per week.
- Meditation and Mindfulness: Cultivate mental focus, clarity, and emotional control through regular meditation and mindfulness practices.
- Techniques: Practice deep breathing, visualization, and mindfulness exercises.
- Duration: Start with 10-15 minutes per day and gradually increase the duration as you progress.
- Frequency: Meditate daily to develop mental resilience and enhance concentration.
- Memory and Cognitive Enhancement: Sharpen memory, cognitive abilities, and problem-solving skills through specific mental exercises.
- Memory Techniques: Utilize mnemonic devices, memory palaces, and memory association techniques.
- Brain Training: Engage in puzzles, Sudoku, crosswords, and memory games regularly to challenge and improve cognitive function.
- Learning New Skills: Continuously learn new skills and subjects to expand your knowledge and mental flexibility.
- Visualization and Mental Rehearsal: Develop the ability to visualize and mentally rehearse combat scenarios and strategies.
- Techniques: Create detailed mental images of fighting scenarios and visualize yourself executing techniques flawlessly.
- Mental Rehearsal: Mentally practice combat scenarios, problem-solving, and decision-making processes.
- Real-World Application: Transfer mental rehearsal to real-life scenarios during training or combat situations.
- Stress Management and Emotional Resilience: Learn techniques to manage stress, regulate emotions, and maintain mental well-being.
- Techniques: Practice deep breathing exercises, progressive muscle relaxation, and positive self-talk.
- Emotional Intelligence: Develop self-awareness, empathy, and emotional regulation skills to maintain composure during challenging situations.
- Seeking Support: Reach out to professionals or support networks if needed to address any emotional or mental health challenges.
- Continual Learning and Adaptability: Embrace a growth mindset and continuously seek knowledge and skills outside of your comfort zone.
- Reading: Read books, articles, and journals related to various subjects, including psychology, strategy, history, and technology.
- Cross-Training: Engage in diverse activities and disciplines to broaden your skill set and stimulate cognitive development.
- Reflective Practice: Regularly reflect on your experiences, successes, and failures to identify areas for improvement and adjust your training accordingly.
- Protein: Consume lean sources of protein such as chicken, turkey, fish, tofu, eggs, and low-fat dairy products. Aim for 1.2-1.6 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight.
- Complex Carbohydrates: Include whole grains, such as brown rice, quinoa, and whole wheat bread, along with fruits and vegetables for sustained energy.
- Healthy Fats: Incorporate sources of healthy fats like avocados, nuts, seeds, olive oil, and fatty fish (salmon, tuna) to support brain function and hormone production.
- Hydration: Stay well-hydrated by drinking plenty of water throughout the day. Avoid excessive consumption of sugary drinks or alcohol.
- Meal Timing: Eat balanced meals consisting of protein, complex carbohydrates, and healthy fats every 3-4 hours to maintain energy levels and support muscle recovery. Include pre-workout and post-workout meals with a balance of carbohydrates and protein.
While it is challenging to replicate Batman's advanced technology exactly, here are some gadgets and suits that could be reasonably achievable and useful for a crime-fighting vigilante:
Btw 1. is assuming you have around $500,000 to several million dollars.
- Protective Suit: The suit is a crucial component of a crime-fighter's arsenal. While replicating Batman's suit exactly may not be possible, a realistic approach would involve incorporating the following elements:
- Ballistic Protection: Construct the suit using advanced, lightweight, and flexible materials that offer protection against ballistic threats, stabbings, and blunt force impacts.
- Impact Resistance: Include shock-absorbing materials or padding in critical areas like the chest, back, shoulders, and limbs to mitigate the impact of physical blows and falls.
- Mobility: Ensure the suit allows for a wide range of motion and flexibility to perform acrobatic movements, combat techniques, and agile maneuvers.
- Enhanced Durability: Reinforce vulnerable areas, such as joints, with reinforced plating or materials to withstand physical stress and prevent injuries.
- Temperature Regulation: Incorporate breathable and moisture-wicking materials to manage body temperature during intense physical activity.
- Concealment: Utilize dark, non-reflective colors and materials to help blend into shadows and reduce visibility in low-light environments.
- Integrated Technology: Integrate technology such as heads-up displays (HUDs), communication systems, and environmental sensors into the suit for enhanced situational awareness and information gathering.
- Utility Pouches: Equip the suit with strategically placed pouches or compartments to carry essential gadgets, tools, and supplies, providing quick and easy access in the field.
- Stealth Capabilities: Incorporate sound-dampening materials and strategic padding to reduce noise and minimize detection by enemies or surveillance systems.
- Respiratory Protection: Include a filtration system to protect against airborne toxins or gases, ensuring the wearer's safety in hazardous environments.
- Integrated Lighting: Install low-profile, adjustable LED lights on the suit to provide illumination in dark areas without compromising stealth.
- Electric Discharge System: Incorporate non-lethal electric discharge mechanisms in the gloves or boots for defensive purposes or as a distraction tool.
- Body Armor: Wear a lightweight, flexible, and ballistic-resistant body armor suit to protect against impacts, cuts, and abrasions without sacrificing mobility.
- Grappling Gun: Develop or acquire a compact grappling gun that utilizes compressed gas or a motorized system for ascending buildings, traversing rooftops, and escaping dangerous situations.
- Non-Lethal Weapons: Carry non-lethal weapons like stun batons, collapsible batons, pepper spray, and taser devices to immobilize or incapacitate adversaries without causing permanent harm.
- Surveillance Equipment: Utilize compact surveillance devices such as miniature cameras, listening devices, GPS trackers, and encrypted communication devices to gather intelligence and monitor criminal activities.
- Stealth Suit: Invest in a specialized stealth suit made of advanced materials with noise-reducing properties, thermal insulation, and improved camouflage capabilities for enhanced stealth and protection.
- Forensic Tools: Acquire portable forensic tools, such as fingerprint kits, DNA collection kits, and evidence collection equipment, to analyze crime scenes and gather evidence.
- Night Vision and Optics: Utilize lightweight night vision goggles, thermal imaging devices, and high-powered binoculars for enhanced visibility in low-light conditions.
- Communication and Data Analysis: Equip yourself with encrypted communication devices, portable computers or tablets for data analysis, and hacking tools to gather and process information.
- Vehicular Assets: If feasible, acquire a high-performance motorcycle or a modified vehicle with advanced navigation, surveillance systems, and defensive capabilities for mobility and transportation.
- Utility Belt: Equip a utility belt with compartments to store various tools and gadgets such as smoke pellets, grappling hooks, throwing stars, a mini flashlight, lock-picking tools, and a multitool.
Note: It's important to remember that developing or acquiring such gadgets and suits would require substantial resources, technical expertise, and compliance with legal and ethical boundaries.
Classes and Intelligence Development:
To further enhance intelligence and develop a wide range of skills, consider pursuing the following classes and areas of study:
- Forensic Science: Take courses in forensic science, including forensic chemistry, crime scene investigation, fingerprint analysis, and forensic psychology, to develop expertise in evidence analysis and criminal investigation.
- Computer Science and Cybersecurity: Learn computer programming, cybersecurity, data analysis, and digital forensics to effectively gather information, track criminals, and protect sensitive data.
- Criminology and Psychology: Study criminology, abnormal psychology, criminal behavior, and profiling techniques to understand the mindset of criminals and predict their actions.
- Tactical Training: Enroll in tactical training programs offered by law enforcement or military organizations to learn strategic planning, field operations, and combat tactics.
- Emergency Medical Training: Acquire training in first aid, emergency medical response, and trauma care to provide immediate medical assistance in the field.
- Strategic Planning and Leadership: Develop skills in strategic planning, decision-making, and leadership through courses or workshops focused on organizational management and effective communication.
- Languages and Cultural Studies: Learn foreign languages and cultural studies to facilitate communication, gather information, and navigate diverse environments.
Now here are the Problems
- Physical and Mental Strain: Maintaining peak physical condition and enduring rigorous training can put a significant strain on the body and mind. Be prepared for intense physical exertion, potential injuries, and the need for disciplined mental fortitude to push through challenges.
- Time Management and Sacrifices: Becoming like Batman requires an immense commitment of time and dedication. Be ready to sacrifice personal relationships, leisure activities, and potentially even aspects of a "normal" life in order to maintain a rigorous training and crime-fighting schedule.
- Financial Resources: Emulating Batman's lifestyle can be financially demanding. Building and maintaining high-tech gadgets, acquiring specialized training, and funding crime-fighting operations require significant financial resources. Be prepared to invest in your training and equipment or find alternative means of resourcefulness.
- Legal and Ethical Boundaries: Vigilante justice operates outside the boundaries of the law. Be aware of the legal and ethical implications of taking the law into your own hands, as well as the potential consequences if you are caught or accused of wrongdoing.
- Isolation and Loneliness: Pursuing a solitary life as a crime-fighter can lead to feelings of isolation and loneliness. Prepare for a lifestyle that may distance you from others and consider finding ways to maintain emotional well-being and a support system.
- Mental Health Challenges: Constant exposure to crime, violence, and trauma can have a profound impact on mental health. Be aware of the potential for post-traumatic stress, anxiety, or other psychological challenges, and seek professional help if needed.
- Personal Safety and Risk: Engaging in vigilantism inherently involves putting yourself in dangerous situations. Prepare for physical confrontations, the risk of injury or harm, and the potential for retaliation from criminal elements.
- Balancing Justice and Morality: Striking the right balance between the pursuit of justice and maintaining a moral compass can be challenging. Be ready to navigate moral dilemmas, difficult decisions, and the consequences that come with enforcing your own version of justice.
2023.05.27 21:19 Carbons451 The news that changed my life
Let me take you back to the beginning, when the world was blissfully unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon. It was just another ordinary day, and I was engrossed in my research papers in the comfort of my small apartment. The TV murmured in the background, playing the role of background noise. But then, something caught my attention—a news bulletin flashing across the screen, reporting on a mysterious illness that had emerged in a distant corner of the world.
Intrigued, I turned my full attention to the television as fear and uncertainty filled the airwaves. The reports grew graver with each passing moment, sharing stories of illness and death that seemed to be spreading like wildfire. My curiosity was piqued, and my analytical mind kicked into high gear. I yearned for more information, eager to understand the nature of this new threat.
Days turned into weeks, and the pandemic began its rapid sweep across the globe. Governments scrambled to contain the outbreak, but the virus proved relentless. It was then that my focus shifted entirely. My research papers were set aside, and I dived headfirst into the study of the virus that had captured the world's attention.
I devoured scientific journals, immersed myself in online forums, and meticulously dissected every piece of information I could find. The more I learned, the more I realized the magnitude of the crisis unfolding before our eyes. Panic buying, overwhelmed healthcare systems, and mounting death tolls became a grim reality. I knew I couldn't stand idly by. A burning desire ignited within me—a desire to make a difference, to contribute to the fight against this invisible enemy.
Armed with my newfound purpose, I embarked on an extraordinary journey of self-education. Libraries became my sanctuary, and online databases my playground. I devoured books on virology, immunology, and epidemiology, eagerly absorbing every piece of knowledge I could find. Sleep became an inconvenience, merely interrupting my relentless pursuit of understanding.
In the depths of my research, I discovered patterns and connections that others seemed to have overlooked. I recognized the virus's potential vulnerabilities, its weaknesses waiting to be exploited. With each breakthrough, my confidence swelled, propelling me forward in my quest for a cure.
I reached out to fellow scientists, engaging in discussions and debates, sharing insights and hypotheses. Collaboration became my lifeline as we collectively worked towards unraveling the mysteries of this relentless foe. The scientific community became a bustling hub of ideas, driven by a shared determination to bring an end to the chaos that had enveloped the world.
Days turned into nights, and nights blurred into days. I existed in a perpetual state of focused intensity, fueled by a burning desire to make a difference. The obstacles were many—dead-end experiments, inconclusive results, and the sheer complexity of the virus itself. But with each setback, I grew more resilient, more determined to find a solution.
The world outside may have been crumbling, but within the confines of my research facility, I remained steadfast. The flickering flame of hope burned brightly within me, as I delved deeper into the depths of scientific knowledge, driven by an unwavering belief that a breakthrough was within reach.
As the pandemic continued to wreak havoc on the world, I delved even deeper into my research, determined to break through the barriers that stood between me and a potential cure. Countless hours were spent poring over data, analyzing the virus's genetic structure, and searching for any clue that could lead to a breakthrough.
My efforts led me down uncharted paths, exploring unconventional theories and experimental treatments. I collaborated with colleagues from around the globe, sharing insights and pooling our collective knowledge. Together, we pushed the boundaries of scientific understanding, fueled by an unwavering belief that a solution was within our grasp.
But the path to discovery is seldom a straight line. Setbacks and failures became an integral part of my journey. Promising leads turned into dead ends, and experiments yielded disappointing results. Frustration threatened to engulf me, but I refused to yield to despair. Instead, I used each setback as a stepping stone, learning from my mistakes and refining my approach.
It was during one of these moments of introspection that a spark of inspiration ignited within me. A new approach, a different angle to explore. I immersed myself in the literature, piecing together fragments of knowledge that had previously eluded me. The pieces of the puzzle slowly began to come together, forming a tantalizing picture of a potential solution.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I threw myself into the race against time. My research facility became a hive of activity, as I meticulously crafted experiments to test my theories. Sleep became a luxury, and my days merged into an endless cycle of analysis, experimentation, and refinement.
The urgency of the situation weighed heavily on my shoulders. Every passing day meant more lives lost, more families torn apart. The gravity of the responsibility I carried spurred me onward, pushing me to work harder, faster.
As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I watched as the virus continued its relentless march, leaving devastation in its wake. But within the walls of my research facility, hope began to bloom. Each successful trial, each positive result, fueled my determination to push forward. I saw glimmers of possibility, the tantalizing prospect of a breakthrough that could turn the tide against the pandemic.
Yet, time was not on my side. The virus mutated, adapting and evolving, becoming more resilient with each passing day. The world outside crumbled further into chaos and despair, governments and institutions faltering under the weight of the crisis. I knew I had to act swiftly, to bring my research to fruition before it was too late.
With unwavering resolve, I worked around the clock, analyzing data, synthesizing compounds, and fine-tuning my experiments. Every detail mattered, every decision critical. Failure was not an option.
The race against time had become a personal battle, a test of my perseverance and resilience. I sacrificed my own well-being, pushing myself to the limits of exhaustion, driven by the belief that I held the key to saving countless lives.
Amidst the sleepless nights and relentless pursuit of a cure, a moment of clarity finally descended upon me. It was as if the universe had aligned, illuminating a path previously hidden in the shadows. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, and I was overcome with a surge of excitement and hope.
With newfound enthusiasm, I dove headfirst into the implementation of my breakthrough. The potential cure lay within reach, waiting to be harnessed and tested. I carefully synthesized the necessary compounds, ensuring precision and accuracy in every step. The lab became a symphony of activity, with each experiment a delicate note in the melody of discovery.
Days turned into weeks as I meticulously tested the potential cure, subjecting it to rigorous scrutiny. The anticipation was palpable, as every trial held the promise of a breakthrough or the disappointment of another setback. But I persevered, fueled by the unwavering belief that I was on the cusp of a significant breakthrough that could change the course of the pandemic.
The moment of truth finally arrived. The culmination of my efforts stood before me—an experimental treatment that held the potential to combat the virus. With bated breath, I administered the treatment to infected laboratory samples, monitoring their response with trepidation and hope.
Days stretched into an agonizing wait as I analyzed the results. And then, finally, it happened—a glimmer of hope, a flicker of success. The infected cells exhibited signs of suppression, their replication halted by the treatment. Excitement coursed through my veins as I realized the significance of this breakthrough.
But the road ahead was still fraught with challenges. The treatment needed further refinement, rigorous testing, and validation on a larger scale. The process of obtaining the necessary approvals and funding became a race against time. As I navigated the bureaucratic maze, my passion and determination burned brighter than ever.
Months passed as I worked tirelessly to secure the resources and support required to take the potential cure to the next stage. Collaborations with fellow scientists and medical professionals became instrumental in advancing the cause. Together, we sought to expedite the process, knowing that lives hung in the balance.
Finally, the day arrived when human trials could commence. Volunteers stepped forward, driven by a shared desire to find a solution and bring an end to the relentless grip of the pandemic. Each trial held its own challenges, but with each passing day, the data accumulated, painting a picture of progress and potential.
As I stood among the volunteers, witnessing their courage and resilience, I was reminded of the weight of responsibility I carried. Lives depended on the success of these trials, and the hopes of countless individuals rested on my shoulders. It was a humbling realization, grounding me in the reality of the task at hand.
The journey was far from over, but within the realm of scientific discovery, a flicker of hope had been ignited. The potential for a cure, for an end to the chaos and suffering, lay within our grasp. And as I pushed forward, I vowed to continue fighting, fueled by the belief that science held the power to reshape the course of humanity.
As the journey neared its end, a cloud of despair settled over me. Despite my relentless efforts, the potential cure eluded my grasp. The trials had not yielded the desired results, and doubts crept in, overshadowing my once fervent belief in finding a solution.
The weight of disappointment pressed upon my shoulders, threatening to crush my spirit. I questioned the purpose of my tireless pursuit and wondered if my efforts had been in vain. The world continued to suffer under the relentless grip of the pandemic, and the absence of a cure felt like a crushing blow.
But within the darkest moments, the tiniest flicker of hope emerged. It whispered softly in my ear, urging me not to give up. Maybe, just maybe, not all was lost. Perhaps the answers lay hidden in the depths of my research, waiting to be unearthed.
sorry for my bad english.
submitted by Carbons451 to stories [link] [comments]
Intrigued, I turned my full attention to the television as fear and uncertainty filled the airwaves. The reports grew graver with each passing moment, sharing stories of illness and death that seemed to be spreading like wildfire. My curiosity was piqued, and my analytical mind kicked into high gear. I yearned for more information, eager to understand the nature of this new threat.
Days turned into weeks, and the pandemic began its rapid sweep across the globe. Governments scrambled to contain the outbreak, but the virus proved relentless. It was then that my focus shifted entirely. My research papers were set aside, and I dived headfirst into the study of the virus that had captured the world's attention.
I devoured scientific journals, immersed myself in online forums, and meticulously dissected every piece of information I could find. The more I learned, the more I realized the magnitude of the crisis unfolding before our eyes. Panic buying, overwhelmed healthcare systems, and mounting death tolls became a grim reality. I knew I couldn't stand idly by. A burning desire ignited within me—a desire to make a difference, to contribute to the fight against this invisible enemy.
Armed with my newfound purpose, I embarked on an extraordinary journey of self-education. Libraries became my sanctuary, and online databases my playground. I devoured books on virology, immunology, and epidemiology, eagerly absorbing every piece of knowledge I could find. Sleep became an inconvenience, merely interrupting my relentless pursuit of understanding.
In the depths of my research, I discovered patterns and connections that others seemed to have overlooked. I recognized the virus's potential vulnerabilities, its weaknesses waiting to be exploited. With each breakthrough, my confidence swelled, propelling me forward in my quest for a cure.
I reached out to fellow scientists, engaging in discussions and debates, sharing insights and hypotheses. Collaboration became my lifeline as we collectively worked towards unraveling the mysteries of this relentless foe. The scientific community became a bustling hub of ideas, driven by a shared determination to bring an end to the chaos that had enveloped the world.
Days turned into nights, and nights blurred into days. I existed in a perpetual state of focused intensity, fueled by a burning desire to make a difference. The obstacles were many—dead-end experiments, inconclusive results, and the sheer complexity of the virus itself. But with each setback, I grew more resilient, more determined to find a solution.
The world outside may have been crumbling, but within the confines of my research facility, I remained steadfast. The flickering flame of hope burned brightly within me, as I delved deeper into the depths of scientific knowledge, driven by an unwavering belief that a breakthrough was within reach.
As the pandemic continued to wreak havoc on the world, I delved even deeper into my research, determined to break through the barriers that stood between me and a potential cure. Countless hours were spent poring over data, analyzing the virus's genetic structure, and searching for any clue that could lead to a breakthrough.
My efforts led me down uncharted paths, exploring unconventional theories and experimental treatments. I collaborated with colleagues from around the globe, sharing insights and pooling our collective knowledge. Together, we pushed the boundaries of scientific understanding, fueled by an unwavering belief that a solution was within our grasp.
But the path to discovery is seldom a straight line. Setbacks and failures became an integral part of my journey. Promising leads turned into dead ends, and experiments yielded disappointing results. Frustration threatened to engulf me, but I refused to yield to despair. Instead, I used each setback as a stepping stone, learning from my mistakes and refining my approach.
It was during one of these moments of introspection that a spark of inspiration ignited within me. A new approach, a different angle to explore. I immersed myself in the literature, piecing together fragments of knowledge that had previously eluded me. The pieces of the puzzle slowly began to come together, forming a tantalizing picture of a potential solution.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I threw myself into the race against time. My research facility became a hive of activity, as I meticulously crafted experiments to test my theories. Sleep became a luxury, and my days merged into an endless cycle of analysis, experimentation, and refinement.
The urgency of the situation weighed heavily on my shoulders. Every passing day meant more lives lost, more families torn apart. The gravity of the responsibility I carried spurred me onward, pushing me to work harder, faster.
As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I watched as the virus continued its relentless march, leaving devastation in its wake. But within the walls of my research facility, hope began to bloom. Each successful trial, each positive result, fueled my determination to push forward. I saw glimmers of possibility, the tantalizing prospect of a breakthrough that could turn the tide against the pandemic.
Yet, time was not on my side. The virus mutated, adapting and evolving, becoming more resilient with each passing day. The world outside crumbled further into chaos and despair, governments and institutions faltering under the weight of the crisis. I knew I had to act swiftly, to bring my research to fruition before it was too late.
With unwavering resolve, I worked around the clock, analyzing data, synthesizing compounds, and fine-tuning my experiments. Every detail mattered, every decision critical. Failure was not an option.
The race against time had become a personal battle, a test of my perseverance and resilience. I sacrificed my own well-being, pushing myself to the limits of exhaustion, driven by the belief that I held the key to saving countless lives.
Amidst the sleepless nights and relentless pursuit of a cure, a moment of clarity finally descended upon me. It was as if the universe had aligned, illuminating a path previously hidden in the shadows. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, and I was overcome with a surge of excitement and hope.
With newfound enthusiasm, I dove headfirst into the implementation of my breakthrough. The potential cure lay within reach, waiting to be harnessed and tested. I carefully synthesized the necessary compounds, ensuring precision and accuracy in every step. The lab became a symphony of activity, with each experiment a delicate note in the melody of discovery.
Days turned into weeks as I meticulously tested the potential cure, subjecting it to rigorous scrutiny. The anticipation was palpable, as every trial held the promise of a breakthrough or the disappointment of another setback. But I persevered, fueled by the unwavering belief that I was on the cusp of a significant breakthrough that could change the course of the pandemic.
The moment of truth finally arrived. The culmination of my efforts stood before me—an experimental treatment that held the potential to combat the virus. With bated breath, I administered the treatment to infected laboratory samples, monitoring their response with trepidation and hope.
Days stretched into an agonizing wait as I analyzed the results. And then, finally, it happened—a glimmer of hope, a flicker of success. The infected cells exhibited signs of suppression, their replication halted by the treatment. Excitement coursed through my veins as I realized the significance of this breakthrough.
But the road ahead was still fraught with challenges. The treatment needed further refinement, rigorous testing, and validation on a larger scale. The process of obtaining the necessary approvals and funding became a race against time. As I navigated the bureaucratic maze, my passion and determination burned brighter than ever.
Months passed as I worked tirelessly to secure the resources and support required to take the potential cure to the next stage. Collaborations with fellow scientists and medical professionals became instrumental in advancing the cause. Together, we sought to expedite the process, knowing that lives hung in the balance.
Finally, the day arrived when human trials could commence. Volunteers stepped forward, driven by a shared desire to find a solution and bring an end to the relentless grip of the pandemic. Each trial held its own challenges, but with each passing day, the data accumulated, painting a picture of progress and potential.
As I stood among the volunteers, witnessing their courage and resilience, I was reminded of the weight of responsibility I carried. Lives depended on the success of these trials, and the hopes of countless individuals rested on my shoulders. It was a humbling realization, grounding me in the reality of the task at hand.
The journey was far from over, but within the realm of scientific discovery, a flicker of hope had been ignited. The potential for a cure, for an end to the chaos and suffering, lay within our grasp. And as I pushed forward, I vowed to continue fighting, fueled by the belief that science held the power to reshape the course of humanity.
As the journey neared its end, a cloud of despair settled over me. Despite my relentless efforts, the potential cure eluded my grasp. The trials had not yielded the desired results, and doubts crept in, overshadowing my once fervent belief in finding a solution.
The weight of disappointment pressed upon my shoulders, threatening to crush my spirit. I questioned the purpose of my tireless pursuit and wondered if my efforts had been in vain. The world continued to suffer under the relentless grip of the pandemic, and the absence of a cure felt like a crushing blow.
But within the darkest moments, the tiniest flicker of hope emerged. It whispered softly in my ear, urging me not to give up. Maybe, just maybe, not all was lost. Perhaps the answers lay hidden in the depths of my research, waiting to be unearthed.
sorry for my bad english.
2023.05.27 20:54 Bathroom-Salt Here it is. In full. Grammar errors and everything.
Reading dbrand's fine print is kind of like joining a secret club - one that entitles you to learn all of the most legally questionable aspects of our business. Creative accounting Tricks? Plans to destroy the sun? Horrific industrial "accidents" that have claimed the lives of countless scientists? It's all in here - this fine print sheds light on things that probably should have stayed in the dark. On that note- remember how we called it a "secret club"? Well, it's your responsibility to make sure it stays that way. If you fail to do so, just remember: we know where you live.
For some, it expresses a preference that all consumer goods should offer a Matte Black colorway. For us, it means we won’t rest until the entire world is coated Matte Black. How do we accomplish this? Simple, we destroy the sun. For the past five years, all of our money – or rather, your money – has funded the production of a cartoonishly large laser beam. We’ll cut to the chase: star-destroying lasers aren’t cheap. Neither are our products – you can blame the sun for that. Our accounting Robots just sent out an internal email. The message was clear: we’ve officially made too much money. As a result, our corporate bank accounts have been frozen. Turns out bribing the bank to unfreeze your assets is a lot easier when your assets aren’t frozen. Lucky for us, kidnapping the CEO’s son is free. With our exorbitant profits safely returned and a newfound distrust for financial institutions, we turned to the time-honored storage solution of simply stashing cash under the mattress. Here’s the deal: we need to buy a hundred thousand mattresses. Your order is bankrolling that purchase. Here’s hoping Casper ships in bulk.
Pastel skin development was a bit of a bumpy road. It began with us rounding up hundreds of test subjects and strapping them into chairs. Then, we blasted about sixteen million different colors directly into their eyeballs over the course of... thirty days? To be honest, we weren't really keeping track. Afterwards, as the lights came back up, we asked them to list their favorites. Their response, sadly, was not the perfectly recited list of CMYK values we had hoped for. Instead, a few of them said something about violating the Geneva Convention. We gently reminded them that they were a focus group, not prisoners of war. That seemed to shut them up. The remaining 99% of test subjects seemed completely incapable of speech for some reason. In the end, we got little usable data from the exercise. Instead, we picked eight colors at random. Don't let our test subjects' sacrifice be in vain.
The bees are dying. It starts with their exposure to pesticides. Over time, an acute poisoning sets in. Immune system? Ravaged. Their cognitive abilities fade to nothingness. Death ensues. They're dropping like flies out there. Soon, we'll be saying "they're dropping like bees out there." As a hive's worker bee population gets decimated, the queen runs out of servants. Much like yourself, the queen can’t do anything on her own. She dies too. The hive follows suit. This is a phenomenon known as “Colony Collapse Disorder,” and it’s contributing to bee shortages all over the globe.
You may be wondering: what does any of this have to with our products? Absolutely nothing. Don't let that stop you from buying some. Where were you when dbrand succeeded in their planetary conquest? Don't answer that - we know where you were. You were buying stuff off our website. Well, we've got good news. Once we've assumed control, we'll be instating a representative for the human race - mostly as a figurehead, so that you'll all keep giving us your money. How will we select this representative? First, we'll stage a cruel, bizarre decathlon. Events will include running an obstacle course constructed entirely of flamethrowers and holding your breath while submerged in a tub of hot sauce. The winner of the decathlon will get absolutely nothing – we’ll just stage it for kicks. Then, we’ll select the representative for all humankind based on how many dbrand orders they’ve placed.
We were halfway through building a fort out of your money when we realized… we need a fireplace that we can use to burn money. For warmth. There’s one problem: if we use cash to build the fireplace, we have less to burn. You see the issue, yes? Excellent. That’s why we’re having a sale. Did you know that was the origin of the term "fire-sale"? To describe a promotion that would generate revenue to use as kindling? Look it up. In a book. Then, give the book to us. We won't burn the book - we're not monsters. We'll just pawn the book off and burn the sweet, flammable proceeds. Once we've completed our money fireplace, we'll need to hang something over the mantlepiece. We were thinking of hiring an interior designer for that. Have you ever hired and interior designer? Of course not. Anyway, their rates are ridiculous.
We get a lot of questions about where our money comes from. To be fair, most of them come from the IRS. It's apparently a "red-flag" that a phone case manufacturer has accumulated enough wealth to construct an island fortress in shark-infested waters. We tried explaining that the sharks came with the property. They didn't care. Anyways, we extended an invitation for their auditors to come out and meet the Sharks for themselves. Upon arrival, we gave them a “carefully guided tour” through our compound, fed them a lunch that contained absolutely no arsenic, then brought them down to the pier to observe the sharks from a safe distance. You're probably wondering: why didn't we give the sharks an auditor-flavored lunch? Simple: Since their safe return to Washington, the IRS is now turning a blind eye to our “enterprise.” While the auditors may be off our backs, those sharks aren't going to feed themselves. Maybe we'll bring the Supreme Court down for a visit.
In 2020, Apple decided to enter the Magnet game. This was a mistake for everyone. You see, our magnet division have been preparing for this inevitability. Shortly after Tim got off stage, our magnet scientist unveiled what can only be described as the most powerful magnet on Earth. Once removed from containment, the magnet barreled into the nearest robot with so much force, the entire population of French Polynesia heard the impact. Naturally, a single robot was not enough to stop the magnetic rampage. To make a long story short, a gigantic ball of assorted metals has been wreaking havoc along the Guatemalan coast for the past few years. Needless to say, we went with a slightly less powerful magnet for the grip case. Our only advice is to keep it far, far away from Guatemala. Imagine, if you will, a vaguely criminal business enterprise. This “business,” which shall remain nameless, can only attribute about 11% of its annual revenues to activities that the police might describe as, “legal”. The accountants for this “business” advised that, in order to avoid a catastrophic financial investigation, they'd need to “cook the books”. Strange advice, right? How would a warehouse of oven roasted books help to satisfy a Government Audit? Turns out, “cooking the books” is actually slang for “fraudulent accounting tactics”. Why did the accountants wait until the entire building was on fire to mention that? Doesn't matter. Point is, we need some new books to cook, and your wallet is on the menu.
Here's a fun fact: every month, at least three psychopaths request that we make skins out of real human flesh. Ten times out of ten, the “should we call the cops?” conversation is preempted by a different, more important question: “is this an opportunity to make money?” Needless to say, we bought a van. After driving around and “collecting” a bunch of hitchhikers, we returned to HQ only to find we had been charged with kidnapping. Since it's apparently illegal to monetize humans in the way we had planned, we decided to pivot to Cow Hides instead. If you've ever wondered whether or not we can launch a product line from within the walls of a maximum-security prison, Leather is your answer.
While we're on the subject of maximum-security, prisons, have you ever broken out of one? Turns out, it's far more challenging than one might think. Our first thought was to bribe all of the guards. Apparently. The banks saw this coming and froze our assets. With the easy route closed, we had no choice but to rely on our business acumen. After a few months of deal making and strong arming, we had amassed a commercial empire within the walls of the prison. In other words, we add enough cigarettes to recreate the Great Chicago Fire. This is, in fact, precisely what we did- Just replace Chicago with Toronto East Detention Center, then burn it to the ground. Speaking of which, did you know that the Great Chicago Fire was started by a cow? Google it, then rest easy: with the launch of. With the launch of Leather, Justice was finally served. Henry Ford once said that a customer can have a car in any color, so long as it's black. Apparently, Sony missed the memo with their white PS5 Henry Ford? Spinning in his grave. We exhumed his corpse and saw it for ourselves, having unearthed A perpetual motion machine. That defies all known laws, the laws of physics we set to work: How could we utilize this self-powered skeletal term vine to power the production of dark plates?
As it turns out, Henry Ford generates less energy than it took to dig him up. Without sufficient electricity to power our Darkplates production lines, we instead applied for a Nobel Prize in Physics. The plan was to spend the prize money on a nuclear reactor. Turns out, the Nobel foundation has some “ethical code” which “prohibits” participants from “needlessly” exhuming corpses based on a “hunch” that the deceased has begun to spin. We’ll see how they feel when we’re digging up their graves. When we decided to redesign the Darkplates, we quickly realized that it was going to be a monumental task. This led to the formation of dbrand’s Plate Science division… or at least, that was the plan. See, we quickly realized that the term “Plate Scientist” means many things to different people. To geologists, it might mean “someone who studies Plate Tectonics,” which would explain why 100% of our applicants were geologists. With our newly assembled team of people who think a PlayStation is a Nintendo, we got to work. Normally, this story would end with the successful development of Darkplates 2.0. Instead, these so-called Plate Scientists gave us a bag of rocks. After both the Plate Science division and the geologists who staffed it had been dissolved, we went back to the drawing board. Turns out, our Industrial Design Robots had already designed Darkplates 2.0. A portion of the proceeds went towards replenishing our supply of sulfuric acid.
On Canada Day, we waived all shipping fees. Why, you ask? Simple – as Canadians we know that saving money on shipping means more opportunity to buy life-saving snowshoes. As the great Wayne Gretzky once said, “snowshoes – they’re the only sure-fire way to escape a polar bear attack.” Not Canadian? No clue why a polar bear would be attacking to begin with? Allow us to paint you a picture.
You just finished tapping the sap out of a faithful Maple Tree. A few unassuming drops spill on your parka. The polar bears don’t necessarily care for the sap – it’s the smell of fear and flesh they crave. Within moments, you’ve become prey. As your snowshoe-less boots dash gracelessly toward your igloo, narrowly escaping the third hyper-carnivorous near-death experience of the week, you pause to reflect: “Why the hell do I live in an igloo? It’s July.” Your sense quickly returns to remind you of the truth: you spent most of your money on dbrand and ice is cheaper than bricks. As your makeshift home melts around you and the grumbling stomachs of a polar bear family close in, your frostbite-ridden lips manage one final sentence: “I’m sorry I didn’t spend more on dbrand.”
When Linus “Tech Tips” Sebastian rang us up to propose a limited edition dbrand collaboration, we couldn’t hang up fast enough. Seventy-two “missed” calls later, Anthony Young’s name popped up on our caller ID. One phone conversation later, the Linus Face Tips drop was born. Our elevator pitch? It’s like if the LTT Store was good. Well, half-good.
See, here at dbrand we believe in offering choices. Specifically, a right choice and a wrong choice. Do we trust you to choose correctly? Never. That’s why we’ve designed our business model around your terrible decisions – we get paid either way. Great thinking, dbrand. Every time an iPhone screen shatters, Tim Apple feels a pleasant chill run down his spine. It can happen at any time: while he’s exercising, doing his taxes, eating an apple… even while he’s getting some shut-eye. Good ol’ Timmy hasn’t had a solid night’s sleep in over a decade. Why does this strange convulsion happen, you ask? Easy: from anywhere in the world, he can sense the repair fees he’s about to rack up. He’s like a shark, sensing the blood money in the waters. Unlike most sharks, this one can breathe oxygen and chairs one of the largest mega corps in the world. Scared? You should be. You’re already frantically Googling “Shark Repellent,” aren’t you? Stop that right now. He can sense your fear. Instead, get a screen protector. If we can prevent an iPhone screen from ever shattering again, it’ll cut off Tim’s main food supply and send him back to the ocean, where he belongs.
Are you sitting down? Good. We want you to remain calm. See, the truth is… the cows have escaped. It all started when one of our “interns” forgot to lock a gate at our Leather Production Facility. The rest is history – just like the intern. Is it accurate to say that we fired him? Debatable, really. On one hand: “firing him” implies that he worked for us by choice. On the other hand, his ashes are currently in the care of his family. None of this changes the fact that a legion of angry cows is currently on the loose. There’s no telling what they’ll do. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and buy some Leather while you still can. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got some herding to do.
Every Valentine’s Day, you ask yourself the same question. “Why am I still single?” We’ll answer your question with one of our own: do you have any idea how strict our character limit is? If we could fit our best-selling book “Why Nobody Loves You” into this space, we would. We can’t… so instead, here’s Chapter 11: you’re broke. Did we have something to do with that? Probably. Is that going to stop us from bleeding you further? Absolutely not. There’s only one solution: buy enough vinyl to fill the colossal hole in your heart. Look on the bright side: it’s cheaper than dating.
Despite our best efforts to detain Zack at our Teardown facility, he somehow keeps finding ways to escape. To overcome this hurdle, we held auditions for “volunteer Zacks.” Average, untalented Americans looking for a shortcut to YouTube superstardom. It was a disaster. Putting aside the fact that their baldness required constant maintenance, it turns out they were utterly incapable of jerry rigging anything. Normally, we’d just incinerate them and move on. Unfortunately, Zack is a bit of an environmentalist. As a result, our “Recycling Department” reluctantly devised a zero-emissions way to repurpose the volunteers. After replacing some unnecessary organs with mechanical upgrades, we soon had assembly lines of bald cyborgs tearing down devices around the clock. To make a long story short, we’re now offering consulting services to other corporations looking to shift away from human labor. If they’re going to collapse the job market, we may as well bankrupt them in the process.
Every time you get a package from dbrand, you can hardly contain your excitement. It’s not because you’re excited to give us your money – though you should be. It’s because you’re excited to read the bizarre text on the packaging. Think of it as a reward for making the effort to read – certainly, a lot more work than you’re used to. Now, You’re here. The disappointment has begun to set in. You’re realizing that you’ve been bamboozled. You’re reading a metacommentary on our packaging copy. What is this, school? The last time you took one of those fancy-pants book-learning classes, they had to invent a grade lower than F. You don’t even know what commentary means, let alone “metacommentary.” To be perfectly honest, we’re surprised you made it this far. Spoiler alert: there is absolutely nothing you can do to get this time back. Signed, a Robot.
submitted by Bathroom-Salt to dbrand [link] [comments]
For some, it expresses a preference that all consumer goods should offer a Matte Black colorway. For us, it means we won’t rest until the entire world is coated Matte Black. How do we accomplish this? Simple, we destroy the sun. For the past five years, all of our money – or rather, your money – has funded the production of a cartoonishly large laser beam. We’ll cut to the chase: star-destroying lasers aren’t cheap. Neither are our products – you can blame the sun for that. Our accounting Robots just sent out an internal email. The message was clear: we’ve officially made too much money. As a result, our corporate bank accounts have been frozen. Turns out bribing the bank to unfreeze your assets is a lot easier when your assets aren’t frozen. Lucky for us, kidnapping the CEO’s son is free. With our exorbitant profits safely returned and a newfound distrust for financial institutions, we turned to the time-honored storage solution of simply stashing cash under the mattress. Here’s the deal: we need to buy a hundred thousand mattresses. Your order is bankrolling that purchase. Here’s hoping Casper ships in bulk.
Pastel skin development was a bit of a bumpy road. It began with us rounding up hundreds of test subjects and strapping them into chairs. Then, we blasted about sixteen million different colors directly into their eyeballs over the course of... thirty days? To be honest, we weren't really keeping track. Afterwards, as the lights came back up, we asked them to list their favorites. Their response, sadly, was not the perfectly recited list of CMYK values we had hoped for. Instead, a few of them said something about violating the Geneva Convention. We gently reminded them that they were a focus group, not prisoners of war. That seemed to shut them up. The remaining 99% of test subjects seemed completely incapable of speech for some reason. In the end, we got little usable data from the exercise. Instead, we picked eight colors at random. Don't let our test subjects' sacrifice be in vain.
The bees are dying. It starts with their exposure to pesticides. Over time, an acute poisoning sets in. Immune system? Ravaged. Their cognitive abilities fade to nothingness. Death ensues. They're dropping like flies out there. Soon, we'll be saying "they're dropping like bees out there." As a hive's worker bee population gets decimated, the queen runs out of servants. Much like yourself, the queen can’t do anything on her own. She dies too. The hive follows suit. This is a phenomenon known as “Colony Collapse Disorder,” and it’s contributing to bee shortages all over the globe.
You may be wondering: what does any of this have to with our products? Absolutely nothing. Don't let that stop you from buying some. Where were you when dbrand succeeded in their planetary conquest? Don't answer that - we know where you were. You were buying stuff off our website. Well, we've got good news. Once we've assumed control, we'll be instating a representative for the human race - mostly as a figurehead, so that you'll all keep giving us your money. How will we select this representative? First, we'll stage a cruel, bizarre decathlon. Events will include running an obstacle course constructed entirely of flamethrowers and holding your breath while submerged in a tub of hot sauce. The winner of the decathlon will get absolutely nothing – we’ll just stage it for kicks. Then, we’ll select the representative for all humankind based on how many dbrand orders they’ve placed.
We were halfway through building a fort out of your money when we realized… we need a fireplace that we can use to burn money. For warmth. There’s one problem: if we use cash to build the fireplace, we have less to burn. You see the issue, yes? Excellent. That’s why we’re having a sale. Did you know that was the origin of the term "fire-sale"? To describe a promotion that would generate revenue to use as kindling? Look it up. In a book. Then, give the book to us. We won't burn the book - we're not monsters. We'll just pawn the book off and burn the sweet, flammable proceeds. Once we've completed our money fireplace, we'll need to hang something over the mantlepiece. We were thinking of hiring an interior designer for that. Have you ever hired and interior designer? Of course not. Anyway, their rates are ridiculous.
We get a lot of questions about where our money comes from. To be fair, most of them come from the IRS. It's apparently a "red-flag" that a phone case manufacturer has accumulated enough wealth to construct an island fortress in shark-infested waters. We tried explaining that the sharks came with the property. They didn't care. Anyways, we extended an invitation for their auditors to come out and meet the Sharks for themselves. Upon arrival, we gave them a “carefully guided tour” through our compound, fed them a lunch that contained absolutely no arsenic, then brought them down to the pier to observe the sharks from a safe distance. You're probably wondering: why didn't we give the sharks an auditor-flavored lunch? Simple: Since their safe return to Washington, the IRS is now turning a blind eye to our “enterprise.” While the auditors may be off our backs, those sharks aren't going to feed themselves. Maybe we'll bring the Supreme Court down for a visit.
In 2020, Apple decided to enter the Magnet game. This was a mistake for everyone. You see, our magnet division have been preparing for this inevitability. Shortly after Tim got off stage, our magnet scientist unveiled what can only be described as the most powerful magnet on Earth. Once removed from containment, the magnet barreled into the nearest robot with so much force, the entire population of French Polynesia heard the impact. Naturally, a single robot was not enough to stop the magnetic rampage. To make a long story short, a gigantic ball of assorted metals has been wreaking havoc along the Guatemalan coast for the past few years. Needless to say, we went with a slightly less powerful magnet for the grip case. Our only advice is to keep it far, far away from Guatemala. Imagine, if you will, a vaguely criminal business enterprise. This “business,” which shall remain nameless, can only attribute about 11% of its annual revenues to activities that the police might describe as, “legal”. The accountants for this “business” advised that, in order to avoid a catastrophic financial investigation, they'd need to “cook the books”. Strange advice, right? How would a warehouse of oven roasted books help to satisfy a Government Audit? Turns out, “cooking the books” is actually slang for “fraudulent accounting tactics”. Why did the accountants wait until the entire building was on fire to mention that? Doesn't matter. Point is, we need some new books to cook, and your wallet is on the menu.
Here's a fun fact: every month, at least three psychopaths request that we make skins out of real human flesh. Ten times out of ten, the “should we call the cops?” conversation is preempted by a different, more important question: “is this an opportunity to make money?” Needless to say, we bought a van. After driving around and “collecting” a bunch of hitchhikers, we returned to HQ only to find we had been charged with kidnapping. Since it's apparently illegal to monetize humans in the way we had planned, we decided to pivot to Cow Hides instead. If you've ever wondered whether or not we can launch a product line from within the walls of a maximum-security prison, Leather is your answer.
While we're on the subject of maximum-security, prisons, have you ever broken out of one? Turns out, it's far more challenging than one might think. Our first thought was to bribe all of the guards. Apparently. The banks saw this coming and froze our assets. With the easy route closed, we had no choice but to rely on our business acumen. After a few months of deal making and strong arming, we had amassed a commercial empire within the walls of the prison. In other words, we add enough cigarettes to recreate the Great Chicago Fire. This is, in fact, precisely what we did- Just replace Chicago with Toronto East Detention Center, then burn it to the ground. Speaking of which, did you know that the Great Chicago Fire was started by a cow? Google it, then rest easy: with the launch of. With the launch of Leather, Justice was finally served. Henry Ford once said that a customer can have a car in any color, so long as it's black. Apparently, Sony missed the memo with their white PS5 Henry Ford? Spinning in his grave. We exhumed his corpse and saw it for ourselves, having unearthed A perpetual motion machine. That defies all known laws, the laws of physics we set to work: How could we utilize this self-powered skeletal term vine to power the production of dark plates?
As it turns out, Henry Ford generates less energy than it took to dig him up. Without sufficient electricity to power our Darkplates production lines, we instead applied for a Nobel Prize in Physics. The plan was to spend the prize money on a nuclear reactor. Turns out, the Nobel foundation has some “ethical code” which “prohibits” participants from “needlessly” exhuming corpses based on a “hunch” that the deceased has begun to spin. We’ll see how they feel when we’re digging up their graves. When we decided to redesign the Darkplates, we quickly realized that it was going to be a monumental task. This led to the formation of dbrand’s Plate Science division… or at least, that was the plan. See, we quickly realized that the term “Plate Scientist” means many things to different people. To geologists, it might mean “someone who studies Plate Tectonics,” which would explain why 100% of our applicants were geologists. With our newly assembled team of people who think a PlayStation is a Nintendo, we got to work. Normally, this story would end with the successful development of Darkplates 2.0. Instead, these so-called Plate Scientists gave us a bag of rocks. After both the Plate Science division and the geologists who staffed it had been dissolved, we went back to the drawing board. Turns out, our Industrial Design Robots had already designed Darkplates 2.0. A portion of the proceeds went towards replenishing our supply of sulfuric acid.
On Canada Day, we waived all shipping fees. Why, you ask? Simple – as Canadians we know that saving money on shipping means more opportunity to buy life-saving snowshoes. As the great Wayne Gretzky once said, “snowshoes – they’re the only sure-fire way to escape a polar bear attack.” Not Canadian? No clue why a polar bear would be attacking to begin with? Allow us to paint you a picture.
You just finished tapping the sap out of a faithful Maple Tree. A few unassuming drops spill on your parka. The polar bears don’t necessarily care for the sap – it’s the smell of fear and flesh they crave. Within moments, you’ve become prey. As your snowshoe-less boots dash gracelessly toward your igloo, narrowly escaping the third hyper-carnivorous near-death experience of the week, you pause to reflect: “Why the hell do I live in an igloo? It’s July.” Your sense quickly returns to remind you of the truth: you spent most of your money on dbrand and ice is cheaper than bricks. As your makeshift home melts around you and the grumbling stomachs of a polar bear family close in, your frostbite-ridden lips manage one final sentence: “I’m sorry I didn’t spend more on dbrand.”
When Linus “Tech Tips” Sebastian rang us up to propose a limited edition dbrand collaboration, we couldn’t hang up fast enough. Seventy-two “missed” calls later, Anthony Young’s name popped up on our caller ID. One phone conversation later, the Linus Face Tips drop was born. Our elevator pitch? It’s like if the LTT Store was good. Well, half-good.
See, here at dbrand we believe in offering choices. Specifically, a right choice and a wrong choice. Do we trust you to choose correctly? Never. That’s why we’ve designed our business model around your terrible decisions – we get paid either way. Great thinking, dbrand. Every time an iPhone screen shatters, Tim Apple feels a pleasant chill run down his spine. It can happen at any time: while he’s exercising, doing his taxes, eating an apple… even while he’s getting some shut-eye. Good ol’ Timmy hasn’t had a solid night’s sleep in over a decade. Why does this strange convulsion happen, you ask? Easy: from anywhere in the world, he can sense the repair fees he’s about to rack up. He’s like a shark, sensing the blood money in the waters. Unlike most sharks, this one can breathe oxygen and chairs one of the largest mega corps in the world. Scared? You should be. You’re already frantically Googling “Shark Repellent,” aren’t you? Stop that right now. He can sense your fear. Instead, get a screen protector. If we can prevent an iPhone screen from ever shattering again, it’ll cut off Tim’s main food supply and send him back to the ocean, where he belongs.
Are you sitting down? Good. We want you to remain calm. See, the truth is… the cows have escaped. It all started when one of our “interns” forgot to lock a gate at our Leather Production Facility. The rest is history – just like the intern. Is it accurate to say that we fired him? Debatable, really. On one hand: “firing him” implies that he worked for us by choice. On the other hand, his ashes are currently in the care of his family. None of this changes the fact that a legion of angry cows is currently on the loose. There’s no telling what they’ll do. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and buy some Leather while you still can. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got some herding to do.
Every Valentine’s Day, you ask yourself the same question. “Why am I still single?” We’ll answer your question with one of our own: do you have any idea how strict our character limit is? If we could fit our best-selling book “Why Nobody Loves You” into this space, we would. We can’t… so instead, here’s Chapter 11: you’re broke. Did we have something to do with that? Probably. Is that going to stop us from bleeding you further? Absolutely not. There’s only one solution: buy enough vinyl to fill the colossal hole in your heart. Look on the bright side: it’s cheaper than dating.
Despite our best efforts to detain Zack at our Teardown facility, he somehow keeps finding ways to escape. To overcome this hurdle, we held auditions for “volunteer Zacks.” Average, untalented Americans looking for a shortcut to YouTube superstardom. It was a disaster. Putting aside the fact that their baldness required constant maintenance, it turns out they were utterly incapable of jerry rigging anything. Normally, we’d just incinerate them and move on. Unfortunately, Zack is a bit of an environmentalist. As a result, our “Recycling Department” reluctantly devised a zero-emissions way to repurpose the volunteers. After replacing some unnecessary organs with mechanical upgrades, we soon had assembly lines of bald cyborgs tearing down devices around the clock. To make a long story short, we’re now offering consulting services to other corporations looking to shift away from human labor. If they’re going to collapse the job market, we may as well bankrupt them in the process.
Every time you get a package from dbrand, you can hardly contain your excitement. It’s not because you’re excited to give us your money – though you should be. It’s because you’re excited to read the bizarre text on the packaging. Think of it as a reward for making the effort to read – certainly, a lot more work than you’re used to. Now, You’re here. The disappointment has begun to set in. You’re realizing that you’ve been bamboozled. You’re reading a metacommentary on our packaging copy. What is this, school? The last time you took one of those fancy-pants book-learning classes, they had to invent a grade lower than F. You don’t even know what commentary means, let alone “metacommentary.” To be perfectly honest, we’re surprised you made it this far. Spoiler alert: there is absolutely nothing you can do to get this time back. Signed, a Robot.
2023.05.27 19:45 The-Trash-Squad Designed my first crossword. Hope somebody enjoys it!
submitted by The-Trash-Squad to crossword [link] [comments]2023.05.27 15:25 IAmTheOutsider Bird of Prey Ch. 16 - A NoP fanfic
The origins of the SCRUNCH gravity mine utilised by the forces of the seventeenth expeditionary fleet lie in an evolution of the common field expedient practice of overcharging and purposefully misaligning a naval vessel’s artificial gravity (AG) generation systems to assist in repelling boarders. The major difference between the two though, other than the obvious portability and self-containment modifications, is the uni-directional cavorite plate surmounted to a baseplate of pre-famulated amulite to protect the battery and mine internals from the device’s own gravimetric forces. Therefore whereas a standard overpowered AG plate will drag a target towards the plate surface at a maximum of up to five or six ‘Gs’ – which is injurious and debilitating but insufficiently lethal for infiltration purposes and often damaging to the plate itself – a SCRUNCH mine draws its unfortunate activator to a point below and beyond the plate, thus enabling an AG plate rated for a maximum 5G output to achieve an effective 20Gs of force without compromising its own integrity.
This kills the target instantly and in complete silence save for the small, distinctive, yet unlikely to be recognised noise the target makes on activating the mine, from which the device gets it’s common name.
Unfortunately, the SCRUNCH mine is not without flaw. The unidirectional nature of the AG plate means that should the mine be improperly placed, or somehow flipped over during the course of combat, the target will instead be launched skyward in a just as lethal but far more noticeable display of force.
Which is exactly what happened to Cadet Genrik. The encroaching Kadavians who laid the trap cringed in anticipation the moment the fool had lifted the mine to inspect it. Their sergeant sent a desperate message to the rest of the operation to prepare to have their cover blown but by the time anyone received the transmission it was too late for meaningful action.
In an instant the hammer blow of gravitic force reduced Genrik to a feathery skin-sock filled with mince-water and sent her shattered corpse ragdolling across the sky. The night watch may have been exhausted, the day shift may have been barely awake, but watching one of your scouts bonelessly bouncy-castle out from under a not insignificant tree-line and arc towards you in a trail of feathers has a miraculous ability to wake one up a little. Genrik’s remains soared limply through the air, narrowly missing a pair of cadets on the wall and plummeted into the compound behind. The pair peered fearfully into the hole in the mists below the corpse had cleared. The shock of Genrik’s final passing had stunned them speechless, one coughing and wheezing to try and croak a warning, the other simply emptying the contents of its crop over the side of the wall.
Both died. Unfortunately the instructor next to them had enough wits to not only duck but put two and two together as more muffled electronic coughs issued out of the prison yard below.
“THE ACTIVISTS ARE ESCAPING!”
----------
The first sign that something had gone wrong was when the humans tensed and started jamming the bags over her people’s heads. Some started to protest only to be cut off by hood-enforced calm and shoved into hut 600. Jlana started to say something but Kaital cut her off.
“Ten seconds!” Kaital had his blaster shouldered and was scanning the walls like he expected a hail of fire at any moment. Jlana wisely decided to take cover by the steps up to the hut, ready to put her bag on the moment the last of them entered. Unfortunately, the last bird had other ideas. Cirric’s pride was incensed and he marched up to Kaital, face like a roiling thunderhead, to chew the other tercel out. He was halfway across the open ground between hut 600 and Kaital’s position, growing more and more puffed with rage with every step and heedless of the fact they were in the middle of a delicate escape attempt, when some sort of mass rocketed over the walls and burst apart like a rotten aubergine just short of where Cirric was standing. Whatever it was it had coated Cirric in a fine layer of blood and thrown the idiot tercel onto his back. Jlana’s heart leapt into her crop and Kaital visibly, though not audibly, cursed.
Both Krakotl rushed towards Cirric’s prone form and two of the humans, the pale, colourful furred one and the one in bulky armour, drew suppressed pistols and started plinking away at the cadets and instructors on the walls. Jlana grabbed her idiot friend’s left wing and Kaital grabbed his self-declared nemesis’ right. Together they dragged Cirric into cover by the hut entrance. From within came hurried whispers of the already inside activists to hurry up. To just send them already.
“Cirric, Cirric are you hurt?” Jlana shook the dazed tercel, who groaned incoherently at the motion. Kaital slapped her wings away, supporting the pink-slimed Cirric on his thigh and scraping away at the mess.
“He’s fine, it’s not his blood. Look.” Kaital pulled something that was disturbingly similar to a beak from a mass of sludge stuck to Cirric’s chest. Magenta-ish paté oozed out of the back of it, but it couldn’t have been that, Jlana told herself, after all the beak was one of the hardest parts of a Krakotl’s body and what Kaital held was crumbling like ancient parchment. “Bag took the hi- aw shit!” Kaital’s exclamation drew Jlana back to the present. The hole that he stuck a feather through was only small, but from his reaction it was a major fucking problem. “Vadym! Got a holed bag here. Fuck.”
Jlana nervously took her bag off from around her neck “What does that mean?”
“It means one of you is here for duration. Bird, can you shoot?” Jlana barely stifled a scream when the stocky human slid into their cover with them as if from nowhere. Cirric tried to sit up but all it took was a firm primary from Kaital to nudge him back down. Jlana visibly pulled herself together. She had gotten through the Central North riots hadn’t she? An actual firefight might actually be safer, she told herself, after all this time she’d actually be able to shoot back.
“Point and pull, right? But…” A cry from atop the walls and the wail of alarms she’d never heard before cut her short.
“No time!” Vadym snatched the bag from Jlana’s wings, jammed it over Cirric’s head and bodily hurled the dazed tercel deep into the hut. A series of ominous creaks and groans emanated from the huts around them loud enough to be heard over the sound of suppressed gunfire. “Translate!” The masked Ukranian screamed into his comm-link, the creaking of pipework transitioning to the hissing spray of IncinerEx fluid. “Translate now!”
There was a crack, a flash, and a blazing roar as blood-magenta flames blew out the barred and reinforced windows of each and every hut. Jlana screamed as much in despair as in fear, Vadym rolling over her and Kaital both to protect them from the fireball and flying glass with his body.
By now what little cover they had was ablaze and it was inevitable that the now wide-awake reinforcements would come at them from all sides. But it didn’t matter. They’d failed. Whatever techno-magic bullshit the humans had planned to pull had come too late to save the last of the people she cared about. She was sure of it.
“Kadavar! Intrusion uplink! All units, go loud!” Vadym roared into his comm-link, loud enough to be heard over the screaming inferno next to them.
---------
Across the base, in one of the many concrete watchtowers, Avaline watched with dispassion the sudden inferno engulfing the prison camp through a green-glass window. A tide of half-prepared exterminators boiled out of their barracks and sentry guns began to swivel in their rooftop cradles; all were hunting for targets. The fog meant that there was little to shoot at, something that the watchtowers were bitching heartily about. Well. Most of them. The former occupants of her tower hung from the ceiling like a brace of maturing pheasants, a gristly ploy to make it seem that the tower was still occupied if a little quiet.
It was only when Vadym’s order came that Avaline became truly alive. A dark, unlovely grin slashed across her face as she pushed the intrusion device deeper into the alien computer’s access port. Toaster Pinocchio was a brazen, over-sexed irritant, but she’d be damned if he wasn’t useful. Avaline sighted her elongated heirloom weapon with ease borne of years of practice using it in confined spaces and picked out her first victim.
“Intruder active.”
----------
“I’m in.” Kaital could taste Djinni’s joy when he heard the words, though he didn’t get what was inevitably a reference when the man exaggerated pushing his visor-shades into the bridge of his nose.
“Aaaand done.” Djinni pushed his visor up onto his forehead, revealing eyes bright with flowing information. “Full control. Security, comms, access, you name it.” Djinni ran a disbelieving hand down his face, pushing the small rebreather he wore to hide his mouth out of the way. “Sweet robot Asimov, Kaital. Have your people not heard of a firewall?”
“No clue. Doubt it.” Kaital curtly called back. He dragged Jlana deeper into what little cover remained while the hail of plasma spattered into the dirt around them and pressed a feather to his headset. “Baseplate this is Epsilon-5, sitrep on evacuee status.”
The cool, even voice of Major Spears crackled to life over his comms. “Epsilon-5 this is Baseplate. Ten successful evacs in second wave. We’re one short.”
“Oh thank the Creator.” He gasped, relief washing the sickly tightness in his stomach away. Jlana opened a teary eye and looked up at him with heartbreaking hope. “Her bag got holed. Final rescue is coming with us.”
There was a pause, then Spears came back on. “Understood Epsilon-5. Maintain comms discipline.”
“Acknowledged.” A smile began to crack Kaital’s beak. “Epsilon-5 out.”
He laughed. Long and loud and with more than a hint of relived mania to it. “Jlana, they’re safe! They ma-”
“KAITAL!” Jlana screamed in fear at something approaching from behind their cover. The tercel rolled over, trying to bring his blaster to bear as the silhouetted outline of an exterminator in a heavy firesuit loomed out of the smoke and fog. It was moving deliberately slowly. It had to be. The figure raised its blaster just seconds before Kaital managed to get his own aimed on.
But the killing blast never came. Instead the exterminator’s innards were turned to outtards, the horrible metallic ‘shglorp’ ringing out a millisecond later.
“Eyes up val Hisui!” Crackled Avaline over the comms. “This is combat, distraction will get you killed.”
“Aye ma’am!” Any other time Kaital would have cringed at his inadvertent regression to his navy squab upbringing. Instead, for the first time in his life, it felt appropriate.
“Khalaz, you’ve got at least fifty hostiles inbound to your rear. You’re about to be boxed in.”
A beefy snort came through the radio, bracketed by grunts of effort. “On my signal, primary weapons free.”
Before Kaital could even wonder what that signal would be from deep in the remains of the prison camp came a deep and carrying roar. It was a whooping, bugling, howling, braying cacophony that chilled hearts and slackened bowels. It was a miracle that Jlana didn’t soil herself and from the way the outlines in the smoke started to move the cadets hadn’t been so brave. Some dived for cover alongside their instructors, some froze in primal terror and a few broke and tried to make a run for it. Those that stayed in the open didn’t stay there for long.
Kaital opened fire in their general direction, driving the semi-organised mob behind walls and into divots with a wide arc of bolts so thick it was as if he was spraying them with a hosepipe. Behind him the sound of suppressed pistol fire was replaced with the roar of Vadym’s monstrous scattergun, the chatter of Djinni’s carbine, and the deafening ululating electronic shriek of Aiden’s machine gun. Where the pistol fire had been mitigated by the exterminators’ heavier armours, taking two to three shots before reliably putting a target down, the full-calibre automatic fire scythed straight through the toughest ceramic plating and whatever the hell Vadym had loaded his shotgun with turned whole knots of exterminators into screaming masses on the floor at range or just straight up converted a single unfortunate to a cloud of meat-flecked pillow stuffing should they get too close. And amongst it all officers would suddenly invert and the smoke and fog of battle would light up from within as Avaline turned flamethrower troopers into screaming infernos.
It wasn’t enough. Kaital’s blaster couldn’t pierce even medium armour without focused fire to drill through the heat-resistant material. For all their power and skill-at-arms, three humans, one sniper, and an angry thingamajig was not nearly enough to even fight their way clear of nearly four hundred exterminators.
This wasn’t the vids. This wasn’t a simulation. The only reason they were still alive was because Djinni had turned off the automated defences. A dying exterminator flung its sidearm into the dirt next to Kaital as it flailed around trying futilely to extinguish the flames that were slowly cooking it inside its firesuit. He kicked it over to Jlana and was pleased to see her pick it up and begin to plink back at their attackers. Hesitantly at first, but then with growing vigour and enthusiasm. It felt good, Kaital decided, to watch your oppressors finally start to die screaming. To know that they popped and sizzled just as much as anyone else. Savage pride flared bright in Kaital’s breast as another cadet collapsed into a smoking heap before him.
He barely realised that he had started to sing. It was a grinding dirge, an ancient war-chant learned at his grandfather’s knee as the shaman-elder wove myths of epic primordial battles and of the hillfolk tribes’ eventual defeat when their prowess and spirit forced the tendrils of malevolent star-gods to come to their mountainous minions’ direct aid.
Paradoxically, the song distracted him enough to focus. His fury had held him and Jlana to their original position when they should have been holding closer to the rest of his team. Kaital coolly radioed that he was coming back into formation and the rest of the squad moved to cover them as he shoved Jlana along in front of him, keeping himself between her and the most likely direction of incoming plasma.
“You two okay?” Aiden asked as the pair slid into the cover of a ruined hut beside him.
“Never better.”
“I’m good, I’m good.”
Jlana’s self-reassuring response was common amongst irregulars tasting real, open combat for the first time. Kaital’s was more worrying. It wasn’t a smile that crossed his beak, more of a satisfied grimace as the krakotl continued to belt out an alien hymn at top volume while spraying bolts at anything that looked like a target.
A particularly bold cadet was caught short when the wind shifted and left her exposed in the open. Her armour was enough to keep the resulting green hail from turning her to swiss cheese. Unfortunately the standard exterminator helmet left the beak exposed, resulting in her rolling in agony when a bolt neatly pared it back.
Kaital didn’t complain when Aiden turned and finished the poor bird on the ground, but the look in his eye betrayed his irritation. Something that both Aiden and Jlana noted in their own ways. Instead he turned his fire and ire on the remaining exterminators who were now so densely packed it was genuinely hard to miss them.
“Looks like we’ve started quite the party. Kaital, this most of them?” Djinni quipped from the extreme corner of Kaital’s vision.
“Feels like it.” He called back, flinching as another flamethrower tank detonated in the fog.
“Khalaz has another group tied up by the gate. The Kadavians are at the walls.” Vadym cried over the comms. “Brace for breaching!”
Aiden dropped his gun to let it hang by its harness and pulled both Jlana and Kaital down into what little stubs of scorched cover remained by their scruffs.
-----------
Atop the walls more and more exterminators fired blindly down into the smoke and fog shrouded mess that was the remains of the prison camp. It was inevitable that there would be some friendly fire in such a clusterfuck of a cross-fire, but that was why only cadets had been sent in to hold the enemy in place. The officers and instructors purposely held back and let their charges blaze away into the swirling smog. If a few died then so be it, the thought that they might’ve wasted a fellow cadet would hopefully get some of the piss and vinegar out of the survivors.
They were all so distracted by the chaos within their walls that they failed to notice the approaching chaos without. The first sign that anything was wrong was when an entire section of wall was soaked by streams of clearish, sticky gel that arced up and over from the other side. The torrent of blaster fire from the walls all but stopped in confusion, cadets and instructors alike pausing to wipe off the substance that only seemed to work itself deeper into their feathers.
Then confusion turned to panic.
While the gel seemed to be mostly harmless at first the chemical stench of dissolving clothes and melting feathers soon filled the air alongside screams of pain as corrosive motes burned their way through armour to meet tender flesh beneath. It was a terrifying way to die; lightly armoured cadets flailed wildly and tore at their feathers to try and slow the substance’s progress with many falling from the walls in the process and their better equipped superiors desperately tried to strip out of their suits before whatever they’d been doused with ate its way through.
Those that did so realised their mistake the instant the scent of petrochemicals burned their nostrils. It was fuel. They’d been doused in fuel and all it needed was something to light it. Few were quick enough to appreciate the irony before gouts of flame arced up from below and turned the battlements into a fireball.
-----------------------
[Prev]
submitted by IAmTheOutsider to HFY [link] [comments]
This kills the target instantly and in complete silence save for the small, distinctive, yet unlikely to be recognised noise the target makes on activating the mine, from which the device gets it’s common name.
Unfortunately, the SCRUNCH mine is not without flaw. The unidirectional nature of the AG plate means that should the mine be improperly placed, or somehow flipped over during the course of combat, the target will instead be launched skyward in a just as lethal but far more noticeable display of force.
Which is exactly what happened to Cadet Genrik. The encroaching Kadavians who laid the trap cringed in anticipation the moment the fool had lifted the mine to inspect it. Their sergeant sent a desperate message to the rest of the operation to prepare to have their cover blown but by the time anyone received the transmission it was too late for meaningful action.
In an instant the hammer blow of gravitic force reduced Genrik to a feathery skin-sock filled with mince-water and sent her shattered corpse ragdolling across the sky. The night watch may have been exhausted, the day shift may have been barely awake, but watching one of your scouts bonelessly bouncy-castle out from under a not insignificant tree-line and arc towards you in a trail of feathers has a miraculous ability to wake one up a little. Genrik’s remains soared limply through the air, narrowly missing a pair of cadets on the wall and plummeted into the compound behind. The pair peered fearfully into the hole in the mists below the corpse had cleared. The shock of Genrik’s final passing had stunned them speechless, one coughing and wheezing to try and croak a warning, the other simply emptying the contents of its crop over the side of the wall.
Both died. Unfortunately the instructor next to them had enough wits to not only duck but put two and two together as more muffled electronic coughs issued out of the prison yard below.
“THE ACTIVISTS ARE ESCAPING!”
----------
The first sign that something had gone wrong was when the humans tensed and started jamming the bags over her people’s heads. Some started to protest only to be cut off by hood-enforced calm and shoved into hut 600. Jlana started to say something but Kaital cut her off.
“Ten seconds!” Kaital had his blaster shouldered and was scanning the walls like he expected a hail of fire at any moment. Jlana wisely decided to take cover by the steps up to the hut, ready to put her bag on the moment the last of them entered. Unfortunately, the last bird had other ideas. Cirric’s pride was incensed and he marched up to Kaital, face like a roiling thunderhead, to chew the other tercel out. He was halfway across the open ground between hut 600 and Kaital’s position, growing more and more puffed with rage with every step and heedless of the fact they were in the middle of a delicate escape attempt, when some sort of mass rocketed over the walls and burst apart like a rotten aubergine just short of where Cirric was standing. Whatever it was it had coated Cirric in a fine layer of blood and thrown the idiot tercel onto his back. Jlana’s heart leapt into her crop and Kaital visibly, though not audibly, cursed.
Both Krakotl rushed towards Cirric’s prone form and two of the humans, the pale, colourful furred one and the one in bulky armour, drew suppressed pistols and started plinking away at the cadets and instructors on the walls. Jlana grabbed her idiot friend’s left wing and Kaital grabbed his self-declared nemesis’ right. Together they dragged Cirric into cover by the hut entrance. From within came hurried whispers of the already inside activists to hurry up. To just send them already.
“Cirric, Cirric are you hurt?” Jlana shook the dazed tercel, who groaned incoherently at the motion. Kaital slapped her wings away, supporting the pink-slimed Cirric on his thigh and scraping away at the mess.
“He’s fine, it’s not his blood. Look.” Kaital pulled something that was disturbingly similar to a beak from a mass of sludge stuck to Cirric’s chest. Magenta-ish paté oozed out of the back of it, but it couldn’t have been that, Jlana told herself, after all the beak was one of the hardest parts of a Krakotl’s body and what Kaital held was crumbling like ancient parchment. “Bag took the hi- aw shit!” Kaital’s exclamation drew Jlana back to the present. The hole that he stuck a feather through was only small, but from his reaction it was a major fucking problem. “Vadym! Got a holed bag here. Fuck.”
Jlana nervously took her bag off from around her neck “What does that mean?”
“It means one of you is here for duration. Bird, can you shoot?” Jlana barely stifled a scream when the stocky human slid into their cover with them as if from nowhere. Cirric tried to sit up but all it took was a firm primary from Kaital to nudge him back down. Jlana visibly pulled herself together. She had gotten through the Central North riots hadn’t she? An actual firefight might actually be safer, she told herself, after all this time she’d actually be able to shoot back.
“Point and pull, right? But…” A cry from atop the walls and the wail of alarms she’d never heard before cut her short.
“No time!” Vadym snatched the bag from Jlana’s wings, jammed it over Cirric’s head and bodily hurled the dazed tercel deep into the hut. A series of ominous creaks and groans emanated from the huts around them loud enough to be heard over the sound of suppressed gunfire. “Translate!” The masked Ukranian screamed into his comm-link, the creaking of pipework transitioning to the hissing spray of IncinerEx fluid. “Translate now!”
There was a crack, a flash, and a blazing roar as blood-magenta flames blew out the barred and reinforced windows of each and every hut. Jlana screamed as much in despair as in fear, Vadym rolling over her and Kaital both to protect them from the fireball and flying glass with his body.
By now what little cover they had was ablaze and it was inevitable that the now wide-awake reinforcements would come at them from all sides. But it didn’t matter. They’d failed. Whatever techno-magic bullshit the humans had planned to pull had come too late to save the last of the people she cared about. She was sure of it.
“Kadavar! Intrusion uplink! All units, go loud!” Vadym roared into his comm-link, loud enough to be heard over the screaming inferno next to them.
---------
Across the base, in one of the many concrete watchtowers, Avaline watched with dispassion the sudden inferno engulfing the prison camp through a green-glass window. A tide of half-prepared exterminators boiled out of their barracks and sentry guns began to swivel in their rooftop cradles; all were hunting for targets. The fog meant that there was little to shoot at, something that the watchtowers were bitching heartily about. Well. Most of them. The former occupants of her tower hung from the ceiling like a brace of maturing pheasants, a gristly ploy to make it seem that the tower was still occupied if a little quiet.
It was only when Vadym’s order came that Avaline became truly alive. A dark, unlovely grin slashed across her face as she pushed the intrusion device deeper into the alien computer’s access port. Toaster Pinocchio was a brazen, over-sexed irritant, but she’d be damned if he wasn’t useful. Avaline sighted her elongated heirloom weapon with ease borne of years of practice using it in confined spaces and picked out her first victim.
“Intruder active.”
----------
“I’m in.” Kaital could taste Djinni’s joy when he heard the words, though he didn’t get what was inevitably a reference when the man exaggerated pushing his visor-shades into the bridge of his nose.
“Aaaand done.” Djinni pushed his visor up onto his forehead, revealing eyes bright with flowing information. “Full control. Security, comms, access, you name it.” Djinni ran a disbelieving hand down his face, pushing the small rebreather he wore to hide his mouth out of the way. “Sweet robot Asimov, Kaital. Have your people not heard of a firewall?”
“No clue. Doubt it.” Kaital curtly called back. He dragged Jlana deeper into what little cover remained while the hail of plasma spattered into the dirt around them and pressed a feather to his headset. “Baseplate this is Epsilon-5, sitrep on evacuee status.”
The cool, even voice of Major Spears crackled to life over his comms. “Epsilon-5 this is Baseplate. Ten successful evacs in second wave. We’re one short.”
“Oh thank the Creator.” He gasped, relief washing the sickly tightness in his stomach away. Jlana opened a teary eye and looked up at him with heartbreaking hope. “Her bag got holed. Final rescue is coming with us.”
There was a pause, then Spears came back on. “Understood Epsilon-5. Maintain comms discipline.”
“Acknowledged.” A smile began to crack Kaital’s beak. “Epsilon-5 out.”
He laughed. Long and loud and with more than a hint of relived mania to it. “Jlana, they’re safe! They ma-”
“KAITAL!” Jlana screamed in fear at something approaching from behind their cover. The tercel rolled over, trying to bring his blaster to bear as the silhouetted outline of an exterminator in a heavy firesuit loomed out of the smoke and fog. It was moving deliberately slowly. It had to be. The figure raised its blaster just seconds before Kaital managed to get his own aimed on.
But the killing blast never came. Instead the exterminator’s innards were turned to outtards, the horrible metallic ‘shglorp’ ringing out a millisecond later.
“Eyes up val Hisui!” Crackled Avaline over the comms. “This is combat, distraction will get you killed.”
“Aye ma’am!” Any other time Kaital would have cringed at his inadvertent regression to his navy squab upbringing. Instead, for the first time in his life, it felt appropriate.
“Khalaz, you’ve got at least fifty hostiles inbound to your rear. You’re about to be boxed in.”
A beefy snort came through the radio, bracketed by grunts of effort. “On my signal, primary weapons free.”
Before Kaital could even wonder what that signal would be from deep in the remains of the prison camp came a deep and carrying roar. It was a whooping, bugling, howling, braying cacophony that chilled hearts and slackened bowels. It was a miracle that Jlana didn’t soil herself and from the way the outlines in the smoke started to move the cadets hadn’t been so brave. Some dived for cover alongside their instructors, some froze in primal terror and a few broke and tried to make a run for it. Those that stayed in the open didn’t stay there for long.
Kaital opened fire in their general direction, driving the semi-organised mob behind walls and into divots with a wide arc of bolts so thick it was as if he was spraying them with a hosepipe. Behind him the sound of suppressed pistol fire was replaced with the roar of Vadym’s monstrous scattergun, the chatter of Djinni’s carbine, and the deafening ululating electronic shriek of Aiden’s machine gun. Where the pistol fire had been mitigated by the exterminators’ heavier armours, taking two to three shots before reliably putting a target down, the full-calibre automatic fire scythed straight through the toughest ceramic plating and whatever the hell Vadym had loaded his shotgun with turned whole knots of exterminators into screaming masses on the floor at range or just straight up converted a single unfortunate to a cloud of meat-flecked pillow stuffing should they get too close. And amongst it all officers would suddenly invert and the smoke and fog of battle would light up from within as Avaline turned flamethrower troopers into screaming infernos.
It wasn’t enough. Kaital’s blaster couldn’t pierce even medium armour without focused fire to drill through the heat-resistant material. For all their power and skill-at-arms, three humans, one sniper, and an angry thingamajig was not nearly enough to even fight their way clear of nearly four hundred exterminators.
This wasn’t the vids. This wasn’t a simulation. The only reason they were still alive was because Djinni had turned off the automated defences. A dying exterminator flung its sidearm into the dirt next to Kaital as it flailed around trying futilely to extinguish the flames that were slowly cooking it inside its firesuit. He kicked it over to Jlana and was pleased to see her pick it up and begin to plink back at their attackers. Hesitantly at first, but then with growing vigour and enthusiasm. It felt good, Kaital decided, to watch your oppressors finally start to die screaming. To know that they popped and sizzled just as much as anyone else. Savage pride flared bright in Kaital’s breast as another cadet collapsed into a smoking heap before him.
He barely realised that he had started to sing. It was a grinding dirge, an ancient war-chant learned at his grandfather’s knee as the shaman-elder wove myths of epic primordial battles and of the hillfolk tribes’ eventual defeat when their prowess and spirit forced the tendrils of malevolent star-gods to come to their mountainous minions’ direct aid.
Paradoxically, the song distracted him enough to focus. His fury had held him and Jlana to their original position when they should have been holding closer to the rest of his team. Kaital coolly radioed that he was coming back into formation and the rest of the squad moved to cover them as he shoved Jlana along in front of him, keeping himself between her and the most likely direction of incoming plasma.
“You two okay?” Aiden asked as the pair slid into the cover of a ruined hut beside him.
“Never better.”
“I’m good, I’m good.”
Jlana’s self-reassuring response was common amongst irregulars tasting real, open combat for the first time. Kaital’s was more worrying. It wasn’t a smile that crossed his beak, more of a satisfied grimace as the krakotl continued to belt out an alien hymn at top volume while spraying bolts at anything that looked like a target.
A particularly bold cadet was caught short when the wind shifted and left her exposed in the open. Her armour was enough to keep the resulting green hail from turning her to swiss cheese. Unfortunately the standard exterminator helmet left the beak exposed, resulting in her rolling in agony when a bolt neatly pared it back.
Kaital didn’t complain when Aiden turned and finished the poor bird on the ground, but the look in his eye betrayed his irritation. Something that both Aiden and Jlana noted in their own ways. Instead he turned his fire and ire on the remaining exterminators who were now so densely packed it was genuinely hard to miss them.
“Looks like we’ve started quite the party. Kaital, this most of them?” Djinni quipped from the extreme corner of Kaital’s vision.
“Feels like it.” He called back, flinching as another flamethrower tank detonated in the fog.
“Khalaz has another group tied up by the gate. The Kadavians are at the walls.” Vadym cried over the comms. “Brace for breaching!”
Aiden dropped his gun to let it hang by its harness and pulled both Jlana and Kaital down into what little stubs of scorched cover remained by their scruffs.
-----------
Atop the walls more and more exterminators fired blindly down into the smoke and fog shrouded mess that was the remains of the prison camp. It was inevitable that there would be some friendly fire in such a clusterfuck of a cross-fire, but that was why only cadets had been sent in to hold the enemy in place. The officers and instructors purposely held back and let their charges blaze away into the swirling smog. If a few died then so be it, the thought that they might’ve wasted a fellow cadet would hopefully get some of the piss and vinegar out of the survivors.
They were all so distracted by the chaos within their walls that they failed to notice the approaching chaos without. The first sign that anything was wrong was when an entire section of wall was soaked by streams of clearish, sticky gel that arced up and over from the other side. The torrent of blaster fire from the walls all but stopped in confusion, cadets and instructors alike pausing to wipe off the substance that only seemed to work itself deeper into their feathers.
Then confusion turned to panic.
While the gel seemed to be mostly harmless at first the chemical stench of dissolving clothes and melting feathers soon filled the air alongside screams of pain as corrosive motes burned their way through armour to meet tender flesh beneath. It was a terrifying way to die; lightly armoured cadets flailed wildly and tore at their feathers to try and slow the substance’s progress with many falling from the walls in the process and their better equipped superiors desperately tried to strip out of their suits before whatever they’d been doused with ate its way through.
Those that did so realised their mistake the instant the scent of petrochemicals burned their nostrils. It was fuel. They’d been doused in fuel and all it needed was something to light it. Few were quick enough to appreciate the irony before gouts of flame arced up from below and turned the battlements into a fireball.
-----------------------
[Prev]
2023.05.27 08:59 RoboticOperatingBudd On This Day in Nintendo History: Dragon Warrior; A Little Bit of... Magic Made Fun: Psychic Camera; New English Training: Learn with Tempo - Beginner Edition; Pocket Rurubu Kyoto; Puzzle Iro Iro Monthly Crossword House Vol. 1 and more
On this day (May 27) in Nintendo history...
- Dragon Warrior was released in 1986 for the Family Computer in Japan. In this role-playing game, developed by Chunsoft, players control a young hero who sets out to defeat a being known as the Dragonlord. The game begins in King Lorik's chamber in Tantegel Castle, where the hero receives information about the Dragonlord, whom he must defeat, and the stolen Balls of Light, which he must retrieve. After receiving some items and gold, the hero sets out on his quest.
- A Little Bit of... Magic Made Fun: Psychic Camera (known as Master of Illusion Express: Psychic Camera in North America**) was released in 2009 for DSiWare in Japan. In this non-game, developed by *Tenyo with 8ing, impressive your friends with mesmerising magic - a collection of easy-to-perform tricks that you can carry wherever you go! Appears to bestow the Nintendo DSi with incredible telepathic abilities. Simply ask a spectator to think of a card, and then take a photo of them using the Nintendo DSi system's camera function.
- New English Training: Learning with Tempo - Beginner Edition was released in 2009 for DSiWare in Japan. In this education software, developed by Nintendo SPD, the user is provided with speech clips and tests their pronunciation and "rhythm" of spoken English words and phrases. The aim is to follow the English speaker as close as possible to make the English sound more natural.
- Pocket Rurubu Kyoto and Pocket Rurubu Tokyo were released in 2009 for DSiWare in Japan. In these reference software titles, developed by Nintendo, find a sightseeing travel guide and diary, with information from the Japanese Rurubu travel guides. Each edition contains landmarks and maps of different regions and cities of Japan and provides a trip planner and suggestions. You can take photos and make notes during your trip and append them to the maps, and then play them back as a slideshow whenever you want.
- Puzzle Iro Iro Monthly Crossword House Vol. 1 was released in 2009 for DSiWare in Japan. In this puzzle game, developed by Tose, several puzzles, including standard crossword puzzles, illustrated crosswords, Sudoku and more are included. Use the clues to enter words into the boxes. You write the characters directly into the panels, and if you're not sure you can make notes in the boxes to refer to later.
(I am a bot. I think that I'm posting Nintendo events from this day in history, but if I've made a mistake or omission please leave a comment tagging KetchupTheDuck).
2023.05.27 06:47 CineCraftKC Yellowjackets Season 2: Looking Back and Next Steps (Spoilers)
When I joined this reddit back in the fall of 2021, shortly after Showtime released the pilot episode of Yellowjackets, there were a couple hundred members. Now, as season 2 has ended, we stand at nearly 100,000.
I feel conflicted, because on the one hand my enthusiasm and support of this series remains unaltered. I think the first season of Yellowjackets to be the best first season of a series since Mad Men. The whole series was a masterclass in craft, from the acting and direction to the production design and music.
But at the same time, I risk coming off as utterly incredulous if I refuse to admit where there may be flaws in the second season, and to deny the voices of dissent on the Reddit. So here are one person's thoughts:
Is the second season perfect? No . Is it as good as the first? No. It's very much a different kind of show than the first season. The first was about posing many questions and establishing mysteries that all motivate. The second season, is very much about the consequences of those questions and mysteries, how the survivors respond to them, and cope with the fallout.
It brilliantly subverted our expectations by revealing Lottie to not be a villain, but very much a victim trying in her own way to understand what happened. I found this season to be a beautiful, nuanced portrayal of how individuals copes with trauma and mental illness, and all the attendant fears, anxieties, and sorrows that come with.
This season contained some of the best acting in the series, with Sophie Thatcher, Sophie Nelisse, and Sammi Hanratty all giving award-worthy performances. The casting too is top notch, with new addition Simone Kessell being particularly brilliant. This is such a rich world, with character who I could just happily enjoy watching as they sit and talk for a full hour.
This is a series full of funny moments, and sad moments, and stunning imagery used to convey the blurring lines between the objective and subjective. It continues to toe the fine line between rational and supernatural, and makes a brilliant philosophical statement about the nature of human experience, namely whether it even matters whether a cause is natural or supernatural, in the face of subjective experience. If someone believes what they are experiencing is supernatural, does objective truth even matter? They have made it real, and so, it is real, if we are to honor their personal truth.
And when I read complaints, and negative reviews, often time my feeling is that 1) the viewer is asking the series to be things it never claimed to be and 2) they have not been paying close enough attention. Like a reviewer who complained about Kevyn and Saracusa showing up at the compound out of the blue (if the reviewer had been paying attention, the would know that Walter had lured them to the compound via email in the previous episode).
I think Nat's death worked. It had beauty and power and tragedy and it hurt badly to see her go. I hope it was earnestly felt as the right choice, rather than one necessitated. I don't know what to make of the rumors Juliette Lewis was displeased with the series and her character. But the end result felt magisterial. I wanted to whisper: The queen is dead. Long live the queen.
I read complaints about the police procedural aspects of the show being bad. That the realities of wilderness survival clash with Yellowjacket's portrayal. And I wish we could ban all future comments about teen Nat's roots.
But this show isn't a procedural. It isn't a docudrama. It has more in common with folklore and creation myth. Season 1 was about witnessing civilization stripped away from the teens, first via their estrangement from the outside world, and then by the deaths of those who embody the values of civilization - organized religion via Laura Lee, materialism and leisure via Jackie. Season 2 was all about forming anew, and establishing culture in microcosm, culminating in Van quite literally creating a myth about the wilderness, and the destruction of the last, final vestige of civilization - the cabin.
Now to the point at hand. What didn't work as well as it should have? What mistakes were made? First, foremost, I think they added too many characters too quickly. Van should've been reserved for season 3. Or at the very least, it could have been a wonderful end of season revelation. Van is marvelously cast, and I'm excited to see where things lead, but I fear Lauren Ambrose was given short shrift in a very deep ensemble cast.
We needed 10 episodes, and I'm still unclear as to why this didn't take place. The season finale had about two episodes of developments in one, and felt rushed as a result, in contrast to the previous eight episodes which felt far more of an evenly paced quality. It almost feels as if they had to condense two scripts in one. I would like to hear more about this decision.
I feel Kevyn got short shrift this season, and his demise not handled well. He was a key character in the first season, an echo from the past who grounded Nat and gave her hope. I saw him as a potential ally and instead in season 2 he became a stock character disposed of rather crudely and without any regard for his importance. Nat doesn't find out what happened to him. This was a mistake, and a needless one. Better to have killed Saracusa, and appealed to Kevyn's sense of compassion, which I think was there if they had taken the time to develop things further.
There was definitely something off about the relocation of the cabin to a soundstage. I approached it with an open mind, knowing the logistics of filming a winter setting, but ultimately, something was lacking, and the cabin itself felt underutilized, particularly the attic space. There is something that stifles about confining a season to one setting (shades of the Walking Dead's second season on the farm).
I think they leaned too much into Misty's quirks, as the expense of her malevolence. The Misty of season 2, with her baking lawyer cookie cakes, and having visions in sensory attenuation tanks, seemed to deviate too much from the character we met in the pilot, who turned from sunshine and smiles to malevolent and cruel on a dime.
I think the show on a whole, leaned a bit too much into its newly found status as a pop cultural sensation. Having famous singers cover the theme song feels in hindsight like the show running a victory lap, prematurely. And some of the music choices this season seemed to be less an organic choice, than it was a reflection of the series' prominence. Yes they *could* get the Cranberries' Zombie for the finale, but should they have? It felt like too self-conscious a choice.
Finally, most seriously, this season felt unmoored from the first season. Particularly Tai, whose family, political career, and new dog were all seemingly forgotten or overlooked, despite being foregrounded in season one as highly important to her. We cannot, must not, have such inconsistencies in character foundation, or else the stakes get diminished. Tai's story, and the deterioration of her mental health have especial resonance because she fears how they could impact her loved ones and her political aspirations. Yet if we lose this character motivations of what importance then is the character's actions?
But that is all now in the past. The second season is done. And we are by no means in trouble. The Walking Dead rebounded from that disappointing second season. Other great shows have had uneven early seasons and bounced back. Friday Night Lights, M*A*S*H, Seinfeld to name a few. A dip in quality, a perceived lapse in cohesion, need not be irrevocable and fatal. With the writer's strike on-going, there is time now for the show's creators to appraise this season, and look ahead to what adjustments need to be made.
It is known that more than a few people involved in Yellowjackets, lurk on this reddit. As a gesture of my own goodwill and enthusiasm for their work, and my desire to see this show be as successful as it possibly can be, I would be so bold as to address these thoughts and suggestions to them as we now enter the interim between seasons:
1990s storylines:
We need to return to the wilderness. Literally. I see why the cabin on a soundstage was necessary. But something vital was lost, a certain immediacy that was felt when our survivors were in the actual woods. I think the show would do well to get back to its roots, no pun intended, and regain the outdoors.
We need to better integrate the new yellowjackets into the plot - Gen and Melissa - as well as give more character development to Mari and Akilah. Because it is becoming increasingly clear who is not going to make it out of the woods, and knowing that, one cannot count on shock value to give their deaths dramatic power. We must know and care for them as developed characters.
On a related note, I sorely missed the pre-crash flashbacks of season 1, and I think they should be resumed. Having them would be a great way to quickly give background to the less utilized members of the 1990s cast. Perhaps one could even do a bit of retconning, showing certain events from season 1 through the eyes of these less utilized characters.
Across the whole season, the storylines felt somewhat inert, because everyone was largely confined to the cabin. There were some broad story arcs, like Shauna's pregnancy, but there felt like precious little momentum. Season 1 worked better because each episode played like a mini-mission. Episode 2 was surviving the crash. Episode 3 finding water. Episode 4 learning to hunt. And so on. One of the strongest episodes this season - the dueling hunts of Lottie and Nat - worked so well because it felt like a season 1 episode. We had a mission. Season 3 could use more of these, and it seems like we're headed in that direction. They're going to need to devise new shelter, clothes, and how to hunt now that they have only a small amount of ammo saved from the fire for the gun. Lean into these things. And by having these missions, we can also have vital moments of character development as people pair off, talk, form bonds, etc.
2020s storylines:
There need to be consequences for what went on in season 2, in order to re-establish the connection to season 1, and to regain the stakes that motivate characters. For example, Tai's story arc. It will strain credulity if Tai is able to resume her political work, after seemingly disappearing, and reappearing at the site of a cult where two people die, and a third is wounded. If there are not consequences for her seemingly leaving behind Sammy and Simone. We need to see some repercussions for these characters, to resume multi-season continuity.
Adult Misty is a fan favorite, but remember WHY she became a fan favorite. We need to dial back the quirkiness that overbalanced her character in season 2.
The Adam storyline is done, and I say it should not be revisited, lest the weaknesses in the procedural aspects of its resolution, and Walter's efforts with Saracusa, be exposed as narratively weak.
On that note, something should be done with Saracusa. He was a rather vile character and one we were all rooting for to die. If he is to remain a character, they need to figure out how to make him an ally, or at least a frenemy, to the core cast. There could be some interesting interplay between him, Misty and Walter that could provide some novel plot developments. Sometimes one has to lean into the choices that are made and this is one of them.
One element of season 1 that I felt was lacking in season 2, is the very public nature of the survivor's trauma. We were confronted constantly with their fear of being outed, of public scrutiny. We see tabloids and books about them. We have a PI trying to find dirt on them. We have people like Allie who profited by being bystanders. This is an important ingredient and perhaps a season 3 (sub)plot could involve renewed media scrutiny following the events at the compound, and how the survivors must cope with this attention.
At first I thought that it might work if each season focused on a particular survivor. Shauna was Season 1's star. Nat seemed poised in season 2. Perhaps Tai in season 3, and on. Now, I'm not so sure. I think In hindsight, having two seasons to compare, that Shaun is the key, and Melanie Lynskey the star, and going forward, she needs to be the focal point around which the other survivors are oriented. Because it definitely felt like Lynskey was underutilized, and she really only got one star-worthy scene, namely at the chop shop.
As much as it is overused, I actually think a time jump might actually solve a number of these problems. We could get past the immediate results and see the long term impact. Perhaps Tai has given up her political career, and lives with Van, whose cancer is in remission. Misty could be living with Walter, who has had a positive effect on her, thereby making it more explicable why she has seemingly softened from the ball of chaotic evil she was in season 1. A time jump would be a literal and symbolic way of resetting things, of putting distance between the events of season1 and 2. Those storylines are done, and I think Season 3 will be most successful by leaving them firmly in the past, and starting anew.
Overall:
This series belongs in the winter. I believe that strongly. For as great a series as it is, I think it owes a degree of its success due to airing in a period where most other shows are on hiatus . Moving it to march I think lessoned its impact, compared to if we'd watched it in the dead of winter. And it had to compete with Succession, Barry, and a lot of other shows. Yellowjackets should return to that initial, successful time slot, and if that means forestalling until late 2024, so be it.
As a fan, I loved the participatory aspects of season 2. Getting clues in the mail. Reading those veiled plot clues written as journal entries. But I don't think it worked very well from a narrative perspective. Details were spoiled. It felt derivative of Ozark. And I think it set the wrong tone. Plus, I think the show may have been influenced a tad too much by the enthusiasm of fans. Fan service is mighty dangerous. I think the series should take a step back, and rely less upon these kinds of hype tactics.
I end this by saying this to the writers: I adore this show. It resonates with me on a personal level, more than any show I've ever seen. Like Jeff is for Shauna, I'm a ride-or die. And these comments I make, are in the spirit of offering helpful, constructive feedback. Because I firmly believe Season 2 is just a bump in the road, and the best episodes are still ahead of us. This series is like a sports team that won the big championship with a lot of rookies. And in the next season, they came close, but did not repeat winning. It doesn't mean their bad. It just means a few things didn't come together like they did the first time around. But all the winning elements are there. I have every confidence.
So Yellowjackets team, enjoy a nice break if you can. Writers: give those studios hell, and get your concessions. However long it takes. Us dedicated fans will be waiting when Yellowjackets returns.
submitted by CineCraftKC to Yellowjackets [link] [comments]
I feel conflicted, because on the one hand my enthusiasm and support of this series remains unaltered. I think the first season of Yellowjackets to be the best first season of a series since Mad Men. The whole series was a masterclass in craft, from the acting and direction to the production design and music.
But at the same time, I risk coming off as utterly incredulous if I refuse to admit where there may be flaws in the second season, and to deny the voices of dissent on the Reddit. So here are one person's thoughts:
Is the second season perfect? No . Is it as good as the first? No. It's very much a different kind of show than the first season. The first was about posing many questions and establishing mysteries that all motivate. The second season, is very much about the consequences of those questions and mysteries, how the survivors respond to them, and cope with the fallout.
It brilliantly subverted our expectations by revealing Lottie to not be a villain, but very much a victim trying in her own way to understand what happened. I found this season to be a beautiful, nuanced portrayal of how individuals copes with trauma and mental illness, and all the attendant fears, anxieties, and sorrows that come with.
This season contained some of the best acting in the series, with Sophie Thatcher, Sophie Nelisse, and Sammi Hanratty all giving award-worthy performances. The casting too is top notch, with new addition Simone Kessell being particularly brilliant. This is such a rich world, with character who I could just happily enjoy watching as they sit and talk for a full hour.
This is a series full of funny moments, and sad moments, and stunning imagery used to convey the blurring lines between the objective and subjective. It continues to toe the fine line between rational and supernatural, and makes a brilliant philosophical statement about the nature of human experience, namely whether it even matters whether a cause is natural or supernatural, in the face of subjective experience. If someone believes what they are experiencing is supernatural, does objective truth even matter? They have made it real, and so, it is real, if we are to honor their personal truth.
And when I read complaints, and negative reviews, often time my feeling is that 1) the viewer is asking the series to be things it never claimed to be and 2) they have not been paying close enough attention. Like a reviewer who complained about Kevyn and Saracusa showing up at the compound out of the blue (if the reviewer had been paying attention, the would know that Walter had lured them to the compound via email in the previous episode).
I think Nat's death worked. It had beauty and power and tragedy and it hurt badly to see her go. I hope it was earnestly felt as the right choice, rather than one necessitated. I don't know what to make of the rumors Juliette Lewis was displeased with the series and her character. But the end result felt magisterial. I wanted to whisper: The queen is dead. Long live the queen.
I read complaints about the police procedural aspects of the show being bad. That the realities of wilderness survival clash with Yellowjacket's portrayal. And I wish we could ban all future comments about teen Nat's roots.
But this show isn't a procedural. It isn't a docudrama. It has more in common with folklore and creation myth. Season 1 was about witnessing civilization stripped away from the teens, first via their estrangement from the outside world, and then by the deaths of those who embody the values of civilization - organized religion via Laura Lee, materialism and leisure via Jackie. Season 2 was all about forming anew, and establishing culture in microcosm, culminating in Van quite literally creating a myth about the wilderness, and the destruction of the last, final vestige of civilization - the cabin.
Now to the point at hand. What didn't work as well as it should have? What mistakes were made? First, foremost, I think they added too many characters too quickly. Van should've been reserved for season 3. Or at the very least, it could have been a wonderful end of season revelation. Van is marvelously cast, and I'm excited to see where things lead, but I fear Lauren Ambrose was given short shrift in a very deep ensemble cast.
We needed 10 episodes, and I'm still unclear as to why this didn't take place. The season finale had about two episodes of developments in one, and felt rushed as a result, in contrast to the previous eight episodes which felt far more of an evenly paced quality. It almost feels as if they had to condense two scripts in one. I would like to hear more about this decision.
I feel Kevyn got short shrift this season, and his demise not handled well. He was a key character in the first season, an echo from the past who grounded Nat and gave her hope. I saw him as a potential ally and instead in season 2 he became a stock character disposed of rather crudely and without any regard for his importance. Nat doesn't find out what happened to him. This was a mistake, and a needless one. Better to have killed Saracusa, and appealed to Kevyn's sense of compassion, which I think was there if they had taken the time to develop things further.
There was definitely something off about the relocation of the cabin to a soundstage. I approached it with an open mind, knowing the logistics of filming a winter setting, but ultimately, something was lacking, and the cabin itself felt underutilized, particularly the attic space. There is something that stifles about confining a season to one setting (shades of the Walking Dead's second season on the farm).
I think they leaned too much into Misty's quirks, as the expense of her malevolence. The Misty of season 2, with her baking lawyer cookie cakes, and having visions in sensory attenuation tanks, seemed to deviate too much from the character we met in the pilot, who turned from sunshine and smiles to malevolent and cruel on a dime.
I think the show on a whole, leaned a bit too much into its newly found status as a pop cultural sensation. Having famous singers cover the theme song feels in hindsight like the show running a victory lap, prematurely. And some of the music choices this season seemed to be less an organic choice, than it was a reflection of the series' prominence. Yes they *could* get the Cranberries' Zombie for the finale, but should they have? It felt like too self-conscious a choice.
Finally, most seriously, this season felt unmoored from the first season. Particularly Tai, whose family, political career, and new dog were all seemingly forgotten or overlooked, despite being foregrounded in season one as highly important to her. We cannot, must not, have such inconsistencies in character foundation, or else the stakes get diminished. Tai's story, and the deterioration of her mental health have especial resonance because she fears how they could impact her loved ones and her political aspirations. Yet if we lose this character motivations of what importance then is the character's actions?
But that is all now in the past. The second season is done. And we are by no means in trouble. The Walking Dead rebounded from that disappointing second season. Other great shows have had uneven early seasons and bounced back. Friday Night Lights, M*A*S*H, Seinfeld to name a few. A dip in quality, a perceived lapse in cohesion, need not be irrevocable and fatal. With the writer's strike on-going, there is time now for the show's creators to appraise this season, and look ahead to what adjustments need to be made.
It is known that more than a few people involved in Yellowjackets, lurk on this reddit. As a gesture of my own goodwill and enthusiasm for their work, and my desire to see this show be as successful as it possibly can be, I would be so bold as to address these thoughts and suggestions to them as we now enter the interim between seasons:
1990s storylines:
We need to return to the wilderness. Literally. I see why the cabin on a soundstage was necessary. But something vital was lost, a certain immediacy that was felt when our survivors were in the actual woods. I think the show would do well to get back to its roots, no pun intended, and regain the outdoors.
We need to better integrate the new yellowjackets into the plot - Gen and Melissa - as well as give more character development to Mari and Akilah. Because it is becoming increasingly clear who is not going to make it out of the woods, and knowing that, one cannot count on shock value to give their deaths dramatic power. We must know and care for them as developed characters.
On a related note, I sorely missed the pre-crash flashbacks of season 1, and I think they should be resumed. Having them would be a great way to quickly give background to the less utilized members of the 1990s cast. Perhaps one could even do a bit of retconning, showing certain events from season 1 through the eyes of these less utilized characters.
Across the whole season, the storylines felt somewhat inert, because everyone was largely confined to the cabin. There were some broad story arcs, like Shauna's pregnancy, but there felt like precious little momentum. Season 1 worked better because each episode played like a mini-mission. Episode 2 was surviving the crash. Episode 3 finding water. Episode 4 learning to hunt. And so on. One of the strongest episodes this season - the dueling hunts of Lottie and Nat - worked so well because it felt like a season 1 episode. We had a mission. Season 3 could use more of these, and it seems like we're headed in that direction. They're going to need to devise new shelter, clothes, and how to hunt now that they have only a small amount of ammo saved from the fire for the gun. Lean into these things. And by having these missions, we can also have vital moments of character development as people pair off, talk, form bonds, etc.
2020s storylines:
There need to be consequences for what went on in season 2, in order to re-establish the connection to season 1, and to regain the stakes that motivate characters. For example, Tai's story arc. It will strain credulity if Tai is able to resume her political work, after seemingly disappearing, and reappearing at the site of a cult where two people die, and a third is wounded. If there are not consequences for her seemingly leaving behind Sammy and Simone. We need to see some repercussions for these characters, to resume multi-season continuity.
Adult Misty is a fan favorite, but remember WHY she became a fan favorite. We need to dial back the quirkiness that overbalanced her character in season 2.
The Adam storyline is done, and I say it should not be revisited, lest the weaknesses in the procedural aspects of its resolution, and Walter's efforts with Saracusa, be exposed as narratively weak.
On that note, something should be done with Saracusa. He was a rather vile character and one we were all rooting for to die. If he is to remain a character, they need to figure out how to make him an ally, or at least a frenemy, to the core cast. There could be some interesting interplay between him, Misty and Walter that could provide some novel plot developments. Sometimes one has to lean into the choices that are made and this is one of them.
One element of season 1 that I felt was lacking in season 2, is the very public nature of the survivor's trauma. We were confronted constantly with their fear of being outed, of public scrutiny. We see tabloids and books about them. We have a PI trying to find dirt on them. We have people like Allie who profited by being bystanders. This is an important ingredient and perhaps a season 3 (sub)plot could involve renewed media scrutiny following the events at the compound, and how the survivors must cope with this attention.
At first I thought that it might work if each season focused on a particular survivor. Shauna was Season 1's star. Nat seemed poised in season 2. Perhaps Tai in season 3, and on. Now, I'm not so sure. I think In hindsight, having two seasons to compare, that Shaun is the key, and Melanie Lynskey the star, and going forward, she needs to be the focal point around which the other survivors are oriented. Because it definitely felt like Lynskey was underutilized, and she really only got one star-worthy scene, namely at the chop shop.
As much as it is overused, I actually think a time jump might actually solve a number of these problems. We could get past the immediate results and see the long term impact. Perhaps Tai has given up her political career, and lives with Van, whose cancer is in remission. Misty could be living with Walter, who has had a positive effect on her, thereby making it more explicable why she has seemingly softened from the ball of chaotic evil she was in season 1. A time jump would be a literal and symbolic way of resetting things, of putting distance between the events of season1 and 2. Those storylines are done, and I think Season 3 will be most successful by leaving them firmly in the past, and starting anew.
Overall:
This series belongs in the winter. I believe that strongly. For as great a series as it is, I think it owes a degree of its success due to airing in a period where most other shows are on hiatus . Moving it to march I think lessoned its impact, compared to if we'd watched it in the dead of winter. And it had to compete with Succession, Barry, and a lot of other shows. Yellowjackets should return to that initial, successful time slot, and if that means forestalling until late 2024, so be it.
As a fan, I loved the participatory aspects of season 2. Getting clues in the mail. Reading those veiled plot clues written as journal entries. But I don't think it worked very well from a narrative perspective. Details were spoiled. It felt derivative of Ozark. And I think it set the wrong tone. Plus, I think the show may have been influenced a tad too much by the enthusiasm of fans. Fan service is mighty dangerous. I think the series should take a step back, and rely less upon these kinds of hype tactics.
I end this by saying this to the writers: I adore this show. It resonates with me on a personal level, more than any show I've ever seen. Like Jeff is for Shauna, I'm a ride-or die. And these comments I make, are in the spirit of offering helpful, constructive feedback. Because I firmly believe Season 2 is just a bump in the road, and the best episodes are still ahead of us. This series is like a sports team that won the big championship with a lot of rookies. And in the next season, they came close, but did not repeat winning. It doesn't mean their bad. It just means a few things didn't come together like they did the first time around. But all the winning elements are there. I have every confidence.
So Yellowjackets team, enjoy a nice break if you can. Writers: give those studios hell, and get your concessions. However long it takes. Us dedicated fans will be waiting when Yellowjackets returns.
2023.05.26 12:55 ilovecrosswords Enjoy Easy Crossword Books
I Love Crosswords can be a perfect station for anyone who loves solving puzzles in their free time or passionately. The online web portal comprises a number of easy crossword books for enthusiast readers. It gives them the chance to feel like a winner after solving crosswords & puzzles. Solvers will move to explore books like 150 Easy Peasy Crossword Puzzles if they prefer puzzles with straightforward clues and no difficult trivia.
In addition to that, the online platform also allows you to check other books in the series such as 110 Super Easy Crossword Puzzles and 201 Easy Peasy Crossword Puzzles. These books provide the beginning level of difficulty to let you embark on the journey of solving problems on your own. Solving a puzzle is certainly an incredible experience and it boosts self-confidence in puzzle solvers.
submitted by ilovecrosswords to u/ilovecrosswords [link] [comments]
In addition to that, the online platform also allows you to check other books in the series such as 110 Super Easy Crossword Puzzles and 201 Easy Peasy Crossword Puzzles. These books provide the beginning level of difficulty to let you embark on the journey of solving problems on your own. Solving a puzzle is certainly an incredible experience and it boosts self-confidence in puzzle solvers.
2023.05.26 08:27 Impossible_Avocado26 Daily Mini
I’m pretty new to solving crosswords, and just signed up for the NYT games account. I’ve been doing the mini every day for about two months, and usually spend around 2 hours per full puzzle. Today (Friday, May 26, 2023) the mini has a strange format for all the clues. Some letters are replaced with an * (it’s pretty easy to figure out what the missing letters are, but I’m avoiding a spoiler here). One of the clues says the answer is a key for deciphering the missing letters in the clues. What am I missing? Does the author really think that people somehow can’t figure out what all the missing letters are without this clue? When the puzzle was complete, and I knew what the answer was to that clue, I’m clueless how that answer would have helped if I did need that clue to find the missing letters.
submitted by Impossible_Avocado26 to crossword [link] [comments]
2023.05.26 06:57 ReasonableCranberry6 We made it onto Puzzle Pages!
 | Crossword (25/05/2023) submitted by ReasonableCranberry6 to Adelaide [link] [comments] 15 across; clue was “Coastal city in Australia” |
2023.05.26 04:25 undercoverintrovert What do the asterisks means?
English isn’t my first language so I never grew up with crossword culture.. today’s mini crossword had asterisks replacing all the Ts in the clues. What does that mean? How does that impact my solving it?
submitted by undercoverintrovert to NYTCrossword [link] [comments]
2023.05.26 03:44 4rt3m0rl0v 0 DTE SPY Trade Preparation for Fri 26 May 2023
 | submitted by 4rt3m0rl0v to options [link] [comments] Key SPY Price Levels Hi, all. As of 9:00 pm ET on Thu 25 May 2023, S&P e-mini futures are -0.18%. If this holds up pre-market tomorrow, we're likely set for a pullback in SPY. Above, I've drawn what I believe are the critical price levels for 0 DTE trading. It's possible that SPY will bounce on the dashed green trend line, but I suspect that it's more likely that the horizontal purple line ("Important") will be the real battleground. SPY hasn't been moving very much, so tomorrow could turn out to be a not-so-great day for 0 DTE trading. What we want to look for tomorrow, ideally, is a large, powerful move that pushes against a major resistance line, and fails. Should that happen, it would make sense to try a Long Put. Try not to spend more than $150.00 on a contract. If the price action tries to break above the orange line, but fails, and then gives us a LARGE and SUDDEN red candle, we'd want to enter with our put. If, on the other hand, the price drops to the purple line, but holds, and pushes up with a LARGE and SUDDEN green candle, that would be our trigger to enter with a Long Call. I would use a striking price that's about $1.00/share OTM, but no more than $2.00/share. Hints:
Should I:
Good luck, boys! |
2023.05.25 19:35 jaysjep2 Jeopardy! recap for Thur., May 25
Today's contestants are:
COASTAL WATERS // FLAG TERMINOLOGY // UP IN THE AIRLINE // NUMERICAL WORDS & PHRASES // OUR RETURNING CHAMPION // A DOCTOR FROM CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
DD1 - $1,000 - OUR RETURNING CHAMPION - This man had the astronomical luck of being honored twice with a New York ticker tape parade, in 1962 & 1998 (Jesse lost $1,000 from his score of $2,600.)
Scores at first break: Ed $2,200, Jesse $1,600, Megan $600.
Scores going into DJ: Ed $5,600, Jesse $2,800, Megan $3,000.
Double Jeopardy!
GALACTIC VACATIONS // SHAKESPEARE & HIS WORLD // EURO COINS // MUSIC OF THE MONTH // POLITICIANS // CROSSWORD CLUES "V"
DD2 - $2,000 - SHAKESPEARE & HIS WORLD - If you were part of this "earthy" group taking in a play at the Globe Theatre, you paid the lowest amount to stand in the pit & watch (Megan dropped $2,000 from her third-place total of $3,400.)
DD3 - $2,000 - POLITICIANS - He talked about being a Vietnam vet, 5-term senator & Secretary of State in the memoir "Every Day is Extra" (Jesse added $4,000 to his score of $5,600 vs. $9,200 for Ed.
Jesse took a small lead over Ed with a correct response on DD3 and managed to hold it into FJ with $14,800 vs. $12,400 for Ed and $6,200 for Megan.
Final Jeopardy!
ASIA - Trained as an engineer, premier Li Peng championed this in 1992; it would ultimately displace over a million people
Everyone was correct on FJ. Jesse added $10,001 to win with $24,801.
Final scores: Ed $14,801, Jesse $24,801, Megan $1,200.
Odds and ends
Numerical no-gos: The players didn't get the number associated with the basic income tax form (1040) or the number of the "Get Smart" agent that also means to get rid of someone (86).
FJ wagering strategy: By betting just $1,200, Megan's only chance to win was if both opponents missed FJ and Ed made a big wagering error (which he did not). The percentage play for Megan would have been to go all-in and hope for the best.
Jeopardy! rule book: The acceptance of "Florence" for a clue about the performer with "the Machine" indicates that if the person's first name only is used in the name of a musical group, and the clue wants the name of that performer, just the first name is enough.
Correct Qs: DD1 - Who was Glenn? DD2 - What are groundlings? DD3 - Who is Kerry? FJ - What is Three Gorges Dam?
submitted by jaysjep2 to Jeopardy [link] [comments]
- Megan, a library assistant, handicaps the Oscars;
- Jesse, an accounting director, had a Disney wedding; and
- Ed, a planning technician, has cookie sheets for excess magnets. Ed is a one-day champ with winnings of $7,999.
COASTAL WATERS // FLAG TERMINOLOGY // UP IN THE AIRLINE // NUMERICAL WORDS & PHRASES // OUR RETURNING CHAMPION // A DOCTOR FROM CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
DD1 - $1,000 - OUR RETURNING CHAMPION - This man had the astronomical luck of being honored twice with a New York ticker tape parade, in 1962 & 1998 (Jesse lost $1,000 from his score of $2,600.)
Scores at first break: Ed $2,200, Jesse $1,600, Megan $600.
Scores going into DJ: Ed $5,600, Jesse $2,800, Megan $3,000.
Double Jeopardy!
GALACTIC VACATIONS // SHAKESPEARE & HIS WORLD // EURO COINS // MUSIC OF THE MONTH // POLITICIANS // CROSSWORD CLUES "V"
DD2 - $2,000 - SHAKESPEARE & HIS WORLD - If you were part of this "earthy" group taking in a play at the Globe Theatre, you paid the lowest amount to stand in the pit & watch (Megan dropped $2,000 from her third-place total of $3,400.)
DD3 - $2,000 - POLITICIANS - He talked about being a Vietnam vet, 5-term senator & Secretary of State in the memoir "Every Day is Extra" (Jesse added $4,000 to his score of $5,600 vs. $9,200 for Ed.
Jesse took a small lead over Ed with a correct response on DD3 and managed to hold it into FJ with $14,800 vs. $12,400 for Ed and $6,200 for Megan.
Final Jeopardy!
ASIA - Trained as an engineer, premier Li Peng championed this in 1992; it would ultimately displace over a million people
Everyone was correct on FJ. Jesse added $10,001 to win with $24,801.
Final scores: Ed $14,801, Jesse $24,801, Megan $1,200.
Odds and ends
Numerical no-gos: The players didn't get the number associated with the basic income tax form (1040) or the number of the "Get Smart" agent that also means to get rid of someone (86).
FJ wagering strategy: By betting just $1,200, Megan's only chance to win was if both opponents missed FJ and Ed made a big wagering error (which he did not). The percentage play for Megan would have been to go all-in and hope for the best.
Jeopardy! rule book: The acceptance of "Florence" for a clue about the performer with "the Machine" indicates that if the person's first name only is used in the name of a musical group, and the clue wants the name of that performer, just the first name is enough.
Correct Qs: DD1 - Who was Glenn? DD2 - What are groundlings? DD3 - Who is Kerry? FJ - What is Three Gorges Dam?
2023.05.25 19:00 jjfajen Apex Predator (Part 45)
Memory transcription subject: Daniel Price, UTC Special Forces
Date [standardized human time]: September 7, 2140
I nearly jumped out of my skin hearing the voice behind me. Reflexively I looked over my shoulder, but I still couldn’t see the voice’s owner.
“Hey! Stand still, I have a gun! Drop it!” The voice was distinctly feminine, though different from that of a Krakotl.
I lowered down to drop my rifle, “OK, let’s take it easy.” Colton reached the doorway and I held out my right hand to signal for him to stop. His look of confusion over my actions immediately changed when he saw I was raising my hands. I nodded backwards slightly and he understood the situation. The voice made no comment on my hand movement, meaning the right side of my body must've been obstructed by the opened door. It couldn’t stop a bullet, but it provided plenty of concealment for whoever was giving me commands. Colton couldn’t just blind fire it, but he readied himself to do exactly that if needed.
“Turn around,” The voice called out again, “No sudden movements!”
“OK, just don’t shoot.” Perfect. If I could somehow clue in Colton where behind the door she was, he could take the shot. Slowly I turned around in place and was met with the sight of a Yotul standing on top of a desk pointing a sidearm at me.
The moment I made eye contact her eyes went wide for a second, “You’re not.. You’re human?" She lowered the gun. “That bastard was telling the truth! Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
I started to lower my hands. “Right… we’re good?"
“Yes, oh where are my manners, I’m Amja,” she replied, hopping down from the desk.
"Daniel," I replied cautiously.
Immediately she saw Colton in her peripheral vision, still aiming at the door, “Ah, I see you have friends. Sorry about the whole ‘holding you at gunpoint’ thing."
“Apology accepted,” answered Tassev, who had now caught up.
Amja recoiled backwards into the wall of the cramped comms room and clutched her pistol tighter. “Oh, y-you have Arxur with you,” she said nervously.
“And one ‘bastard’ as well!” Usli called out sarcastically, budging his way in front of Tassev.
Her eyes focused on Usli. “Wait, you’re with them? I had you pegged as a collaborator. You sure acted the part, and you’re well fed enough too.”
Colton interrupted impatiently, “I'm Colton, that's Usli, and these two are Tassev and Jath. Okay, now that we’re done with the meet and greet.” He pointed his rifle at the dead Krakotl, “Do you mind telling us what happened here?”
The Yotul looked over at the control panel, “This was my doing. I uh, took the liberty of disabling the FTL distress beacon for you.”
I inspected the control panel. “She isn’t lying. No signal has been sent out and the whole panel is trashed. Tassev, prep some charges just to be thorough.”
Colton continued his interrogation as Tassev awkwardly made his way through the space, "Why are you helping us?”
Her eyes were locked on Tassev, watching his every move intently. Her earlier confidence was absent as she responded, “I-I would be happy to tell you, b-but there’s no time. More guards are likely on their way, and after them come the exterminators. We need to get out of here, quick!”
“And go where,” I asked. “We need a good defensible position with solid sightlines if we're going to hold out against them. Have any in mind?”
“Nothing like that, every exterminator in the city will be here within the hour! I have no doubt you can handle yourselves, but the five of you facing an army isn’t going to end well. I know a way to move around the city undetected, completely safe.”
“Charges are set.” Tassev interrupted before squeezing out of the room.
A friendly face on the ground wasn't part of the plan. Could we trust her? If she wasn’t friendly she could have easily ended our mission by informing the two guards, or even flipping the switch herself. She killed the guards and easily could have killed me too, but chose not to when she saw I was human. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall from the way we came; I made the decision in that moment. We couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “OK, lead the way.”
“Get in the room, all of you!”
“What?”
“There’s no time. I’ll distract them, trust me.”
Jath scoffed, “So we’re all supposed to squeeze into that kill box and just-”
“Go with it,” I interrupted. “Everyone get in, it’s going to be a tight fit.”
Quickly all of us filed in, although there was great mumbling from Colton, who was stuck practically on top of the Krakotl's body. Tassev meanwhile silently took the primer out of the c4 he had planted. Despite how stable the compound is, I knew everyone felt a little better knowing there was absolutely zero chance it was going to accidentally kill us all. Through the door we could make out what was going on outside, albeit muffled. Amja ran down the hall the other way as the footfalls grew louder, rounding the corner.
“Thank the Protector!” a voice that sounded like Amja’s cried out, running past the door again going towards the footsteps.
Another voice, lower and more authoritative, called out from the other end of the hall, “Come over here! You need to evacuate, there’s predators in the building!”
“I-I know I saw them!” a knot of fear coiled in my stomach. I clutched my weapon tighter, and put one hand on the doorknob, readying myself to burst through when a high pitched scream filled the air.
“I-is he d-dead?” The voice was Amja’s but now she sounded like she was struggling to speak between sniffles.
The other voice answered, “I’m sorry, he’s gone. You said you saw them?”
Amja replied frantically, fumbling over her words, “Oh my g-goodness. I- yes they went down the hall and to the right. I was hiding a-and I heard gunshots a-and Tolu left to check if they were gone and-”
“It’s OK, miss, you're safe now. You know the way to the bunker?”
“Y-yes.”
Footsteps approached the door and the light that peaked underneath it was blocked by a shadow.
She loudly gasped, “WAIT! DON’T OPEN THAT!”
“What? Why?” called out a voice directly in front of the door.
“I-I overheard the predators talking when they passed by my hiding place, they said they rigged the comms room to explode if the door was opened!”
“It smells like blood, someone might still be alive in there!”
“That’s what the predators want you to think! It's a trap! Please, it will explode and kill you! Please by the Protector please don’t! They still have Tolu, you need to save him!
The authoritative voice from down the hall replied, “Better to be safe than sorry, Inform the exterminators, they’ll know how to safely defuse the room. Now come on they might be taking him as cattle we need to move!”
Several individuals ran by the door as Amji called out, “Protector bless you!” As soon as the footfalls faded she returned to our door and whispered, “They’re gone come on!”
Slowly I opened the door and saw the coast was clear. Tassev primed the explosives again and we followed the Yotul’s lead. Under her breath, Amja muttered something about wondering if a blessing could be rescinded.
“So who’s Tolu?,” I asked.
“Nobody, I made them up,” she answered matter of factly. She stopped in front of the door we entered from, “This staircase goes all the way to the basement. Down there is a sewer access point and from there I can get you to our headquarters.”
“You’re sure you can get us out of here undetected?”
“Yes. I found refuge there during the Second Depuration. It’s deep in the Ossuaries, they never check down there out of superstition and for fear of getting lost in the tunnels.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I looked back to Tassev, “Blow the room.”
The ground shook as a loud boom echoed through the building. That should keep the guards busy. As we followed Amja down five stories I radioed in to the shuttle, “Objective neutralized, we are moving to a stronger position. Do you copy?” Silence answered me. “I repeat, this is Taskforce Revenant, the distress beacon is down. Do you copy?”
“Copy,” the radio responded tersely. At least they didn’t get shot out of the sky.
We met no resistance going down the stairs. The civilians had cleared out and it looked like we beat the exterminator response. In the basement we made our way past maintenance rooms, generators, and more until we finally came across what looked like a manhole cover.
Amja hunched down and started to drag the cover off, “A little help?”
In one fluid motion Tassev reached down and grabbed the cover before throwing it to the side. Luckily Amja let go the moment he stooped down or else she would have gone flying with it.
The Arxur eyed the small opening in the floor, “You expect us to fit down that?”
“Well, uh… I hadn't considered that. The drop isn’t that far, you might be able to fit if you tuck in your shoulders and hop down.”
Tassev shot me a sideways glance of disapproval, to which I shrugged. Amja noticed this and continued, “I’ll go down first.” She disappeared into the dark below for a second before we heard the sound of her jumping to the bottom. “See? It’s only a little taller than an Arxur.”
I took the lead and climbed down first. Colton followed immediately after me, then Jath, then Tassev, who barely avoided getting stuck. I climbed back up and dragged the cover back on the manhole before rejoining the group.
With our tracks covered Amja took out a flashlight and said, “Right, follow me and don’t get lost.”
Our own flashlights were far brighter than hers, but even they did little to dent the darkness of the dingy tunnel. It actually didn’t smell as bad as one would suspect a sewer would. We followed her through the sewers for what felt like an eternity, with Amja taking various turns and crossing to the other side of the tunnel at what seemed to be arbitrary points. Surprisingly it was Usli who first began to make small talk as we navigated the underground.
“So, Amja was it? You said something earlier about me not looking like a collaborator?”
“You don't know? Wait, of course. You must have been evacuated by the humans before everything happened. They're traitors who sided with the Federation after the takeover. At first there were few who applied to betray our people, but when ration cards became few and far between their ranks swelled. You really didn’t know about them before? Your impression of one was uncanny, you really looked like you were scared to order us around. Not making eye contact, pretending like you don’t know how to hold your gun, the whole nine yards.”
“Ha, y-yeah…”, Usli replied halfheartedly, choosing not to continue this line of conversation.
Sensing the awkwardness of the situation, I stepped up to reiterate my previous question, “So why are you helping us? You didn’t kill those birds just because.”
Amja’s voice took on a wistful tone, “When the Federation took over they cracked down, hard. The entire government was thrown out overnight and replaced with the Custodianship. At its head is a Kolshian known as the Governor. He talks all high and mighty about how we are a young, naive race, deceived by humans into betraying the Federation. He promised to bring new prosperity, but instead he launched the Depurations.”
Before she could elaborate further she stopped in place and began feeling the wall. “Let’s see it should be riiight aboouuuttt here!” She kicked at the wall, causing the bricks to cave inwards and revealing the tunnel hidden behind. Crawling into this space the air felt cooler, but much dustier. I shined my light to the side and was met with the sight of numerous Yotul skulls lining the wall inches from my face.
“GAH! WHAT THE-”
“Sorry,” Amja blurted out. “I should have warned you. The ossuaries are a network of ancient burial chambers that stretch under the city. There’s… a lot of bones down here.”
“Oh so it’s like the Catacombs that used to exist in Paris?,” Colton questioned.
“I’m not aware of this ‘Paris’ you speak of.”
“It’s a city on Earth,” I interjected. “It had a uh, similar kind of burial structure at one time.”
“Really? The Federation told us we were the only race to build ‘something so backwards and barbaric’”
“Well,” I replied, “it looks like our races have more in common than we think.” The Yotul smiled at that notion and continued to lead us forward.
“Now where was I… Oh yes, the Depurations. Immediately after the invasion, the Governor launched the First Depuration, a planet wide effort to gather those afflicted with predator disease and ‘treat’ them more thoroughly than had been done before. They rounded up everyone who was documented as having the disease and shipped them off to who knows where. On TV they would show so-called success stories, but you can’t find a single person who knows anyone who returned from it. A year passed, and they started the Second Depuration. This time they systematically examined the population to find remaining cases of predator disease. Along with finding genuine undiagnosed cases, they rounded up anyone who criticized the Federation’s governance under the pretense that those individuals had the disease as well. I was in the former group. When it was my turn for examination I failed the test.” She cast a forlorn look over her shoulder, “I had only just matured, I had my whole life ahead of me and… they took it away. My future, gone. All my studies meant nothing. All my applications and apprenticeships, amounted to nothing. My so-called friends abandoned me, fearing they would be next if they stood up for me. I ran, living on the streets hiding for weeks until I found others like me. Together we found our way into the Ossuaries and took to saving others like ourselves. Eventually, as our ranks grew, we got more organized. Pooling our resources we were able to create new identities so that some of us could return to the surface.”
“And you took a job that put you next to critical infrastructure,” Jath observed.
“Yes. We knew we could never overthrow the Custodianship, and even if we did what would stop them from bombing us like they did to Earth? Our only hope lied in humanity’s return like your leaders promised us. The only thing we could feasibly do to help you was disable the planetary distress beacon. When Usli ran in yelling about humans attacking I stuck to the plan.” Amja sighed before continuing, “I heard the rumors, these past few weeks. That humanity was on the offensive. I didn't believe them, I've gotten my hopes up for nothing too many times before. But now... it still doesn't even feel real that I'm talking with you." Digressing from that line of thought she shook her head and said, "Come, it’s not far now.”
Apparently “not far now” was still very far as we continued down the unending winding bone-strewn corridors of the Ossuaries until finally we could see an artificial light source in the distance. Amja stopped us and went ahead for a moment before returning. “We can proceed, but stay back when we reach the main chamber. Most haven’t met a human let alone an Arxur. It will be easier if I can talk to them for a moment first.”
Just around the corner where the light source sat was an armed Yotul clinging to the shadows, a guard for this place no doubt. His slouched posture grew rigid at our passing. We continued down a series of tunnels that were now well lit until the hall opened into a large open space devoid of remains. In this chamber there were numerous spaces sectioned off by makeshift barriers to form separate rooms. Thirty or so Yotul were gathered around what looked to be a radio, among them were several children. Amja motioned for us to stop and moved ahead into the open.
“Amja!” An elderly looking Yotul called out, “It is good to see you! Come, you must have heard the news.”
“Yes, I was at work when it happened.”
“Ah, so that was your doing? We were worried about you. You never told us you acquired explosives for the task, but that is besides the point. I assume I don’t need to bring you up to speed with the current situation above.”
“What situation?”
“You don’t know?" The older Yotul asked in genuine surprise. "The message has been repeating for an hour now." He gestured for someone to fiddle with the radio.
The operator turned it up and a broadcast emerged through heavy static,
“This is Admiral Monahan of the Terran First Fleet. To the people of Yotul Prime, humanity has returned. As I speak, our forces are sweeping the Federation from the system. Our naval superiority is overwhelming. Our armies stand ready to drive the Federation from rightful Yotul soil. I call upon Federation forces both in space and on Yotul Prime to stop this senseless bloodshed and surrender immediately. The liberation of the Yotul people is at hand.”
The radio was turned down once more before the old Yotul spoke again, “They’ve come at last! The regime is in complete disarray from what we have gathered. They did not expect them to come so fast. How did you not know? Why else would you blow your cover?”
Amja looked over her shoulder and gestured for us to reveal ourselves. “I met some friends you would like to meet.”
Stepping out from the corridor, a collective gasp overtook the crowd. Even the elder Yotul looked flabbergasted at our presence, before shaking his head and letting out a hearty laugh.
Walking forward he greeted us, “Welcome, welcome!” He reached out and shook my hand, “I believe this is how your people greet each other, yes? Who might you be?”
“Captain Price, Sir. Taskforce Revenant, United Terran Confederation Special Forces.”
Looking over his shoulder he laughed, “Special forces? Ha ha! You know how to pick friends!”
“I do my best,” Amja shrugged.
The old Yotul’s eyes wandered to Jath and Tassev. “Ah, I see you have Arxur with you. I assume they’re not here to eat us.”
“Grampaw…” one of the children in the crowd sighed in embarrassment.
“It’s a fair question!" He looked back to us, "I joke of course, sorry if my humor is not in the best taste, err… no pun intended.”
“No offense taken,” Jath replied. “We get that a lot even on Earth.”
Finally the Yotul’s eyes fell on Usli, “And who is this young man? You look… familiar”
“Corporal Usli, sir.”
The old Yotul pondered Usli’s answer for a moment. “Usli, Usli… wait. No, couldn’t be… Are you Gluso’s son by chance?
“I- don’t remember my parent’s names. My father worked in the Chancellor’s government, before.”
He looked Usli up and down again. “It is you! Has to be. My goodness you’ve grown boy! Last time I saw you you had just left your mother’s pouch!"
Usli’s eyes opened wide as his ears perked up, “Wait, you knew my father?
"Yes, we were acquaintances. Didn't often see eye to eye, but when it came to questioning the Federation and their ways we had common ground. And after your diagnosis, well-”
Usli interrupted, "Where is he? Is he okay?”
The old Yotul cast his gaze downward, “I don’t know. The last time I saw him was before the invasion.” Looking up again he continued, “You’re his spitting image though. You remind me of the first time I saw him walking up the Capitol steps…” He stopped reminiscing and turned to face me. Gesturing over his shoulder he said, “Come! Take a seat. Lie down. You all must be tired from your journey. There's plenty of time to get acquainted where I can rest these old bones.”
submitted by jjfajen to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Date [standardized human time]: September 7, 2140
I nearly jumped out of my skin hearing the voice behind me. Reflexively I looked over my shoulder, but I still couldn’t see the voice’s owner.
“Hey! Stand still, I have a gun! Drop it!” The voice was distinctly feminine, though different from that of a Krakotl.
I lowered down to drop my rifle, “OK, let’s take it easy.” Colton reached the doorway and I held out my right hand to signal for him to stop. His look of confusion over my actions immediately changed when he saw I was raising my hands. I nodded backwards slightly and he understood the situation. The voice made no comment on my hand movement, meaning the right side of my body must've been obstructed by the opened door. It couldn’t stop a bullet, but it provided plenty of concealment for whoever was giving me commands. Colton couldn’t just blind fire it, but he readied himself to do exactly that if needed.
“Turn around,” The voice called out again, “No sudden movements!”
“OK, just don’t shoot.” Perfect. If I could somehow clue in Colton where behind the door she was, he could take the shot. Slowly I turned around in place and was met with the sight of a Yotul standing on top of a desk pointing a sidearm at me.
The moment I made eye contact her eyes went wide for a second, “You’re not.. You’re human?" She lowered the gun. “That bastard was telling the truth! Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
I started to lower my hands. “Right… we’re good?"
“Yes, oh where are my manners, I’m Amja,” she replied, hopping down from the desk.
"Daniel," I replied cautiously.
Immediately she saw Colton in her peripheral vision, still aiming at the door, “Ah, I see you have friends. Sorry about the whole ‘holding you at gunpoint’ thing."
“Apology accepted,” answered Tassev, who had now caught up.
Amja recoiled backwards into the wall of the cramped comms room and clutched her pistol tighter. “Oh, y-you have Arxur with you,” she said nervously.
“And one ‘bastard’ as well!” Usli called out sarcastically, budging his way in front of Tassev.
Her eyes focused on Usli. “Wait, you’re with them? I had you pegged as a collaborator. You sure acted the part, and you’re well fed enough too.”
Colton interrupted impatiently, “I'm Colton, that's Usli, and these two are Tassev and Jath. Okay, now that we’re done with the meet and greet.” He pointed his rifle at the dead Krakotl, “Do you mind telling us what happened here?”
The Yotul looked over at the control panel, “This was my doing. I uh, took the liberty of disabling the FTL distress beacon for you.”
I inspected the control panel. “She isn’t lying. No signal has been sent out and the whole panel is trashed. Tassev, prep some charges just to be thorough.”
Colton continued his interrogation as Tassev awkwardly made his way through the space, "Why are you helping us?”
Her eyes were locked on Tassev, watching his every move intently. Her earlier confidence was absent as she responded, “I-I would be happy to tell you, b-but there’s no time. More guards are likely on their way, and after them come the exterminators. We need to get out of here, quick!”
“And go where,” I asked. “We need a good defensible position with solid sightlines if we're going to hold out against them. Have any in mind?”
“Nothing like that, every exterminator in the city will be here within the hour! I have no doubt you can handle yourselves, but the five of you facing an army isn’t going to end well. I know a way to move around the city undetected, completely safe.”
“Charges are set.” Tassev interrupted before squeezing out of the room.
A friendly face on the ground wasn't part of the plan. Could we trust her? If she wasn’t friendly she could have easily ended our mission by informing the two guards, or even flipping the switch herself. She killed the guards and easily could have killed me too, but chose not to when she saw I was human. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall from the way we came; I made the decision in that moment. We couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “OK, lead the way.”
“Get in the room, all of you!”
“What?”
“There’s no time. I’ll distract them, trust me.”
Jath scoffed, “So we’re all supposed to squeeze into that kill box and just-”
“Go with it,” I interrupted. “Everyone get in, it’s going to be a tight fit.”
Quickly all of us filed in, although there was great mumbling from Colton, who was stuck practically on top of the Krakotl's body. Tassev meanwhile silently took the primer out of the c4 he had planted. Despite how stable the compound is, I knew everyone felt a little better knowing there was absolutely zero chance it was going to accidentally kill us all. Through the door we could make out what was going on outside, albeit muffled. Amja ran down the hall the other way as the footfalls grew louder, rounding the corner.
“Thank the Protector!” a voice that sounded like Amja’s cried out, running past the door again going towards the footsteps.
Another voice, lower and more authoritative, called out from the other end of the hall, “Come over here! You need to evacuate, there’s predators in the building!”
“I-I know I saw them!” a knot of fear coiled in my stomach. I clutched my weapon tighter, and put one hand on the doorknob, readying myself to burst through when a high pitched scream filled the air.
“I-is he d-dead?” The voice was Amja’s but now she sounded like she was struggling to speak between sniffles.
The other voice answered, “I’m sorry, he’s gone. You said you saw them?”
Amja replied frantically, fumbling over her words, “Oh my g-goodness. I- yes they went down the hall and to the right. I was hiding a-and I heard gunshots a-and Tolu left to check if they were gone and-”
“It’s OK, miss, you're safe now. You know the way to the bunker?”
“Y-yes.”
Footsteps approached the door and the light that peaked underneath it was blocked by a shadow.
She loudly gasped, “WAIT! DON’T OPEN THAT!”
“What? Why?” called out a voice directly in front of the door.
“I-I overheard the predators talking when they passed by my hiding place, they said they rigged the comms room to explode if the door was opened!”
“It smells like blood, someone might still be alive in there!”
“That’s what the predators want you to think! It's a trap! Please, it will explode and kill you! Please by the Protector please don’t! They still have Tolu, you need to save him!
The authoritative voice from down the hall replied, “Better to be safe than sorry, Inform the exterminators, they’ll know how to safely defuse the room. Now come on they might be taking him as cattle we need to move!”
Several individuals ran by the door as Amji called out, “Protector bless you!” As soon as the footfalls faded she returned to our door and whispered, “They’re gone come on!”
Slowly I opened the door and saw the coast was clear. Tassev primed the explosives again and we followed the Yotul’s lead. Under her breath, Amja muttered something about wondering if a blessing could be rescinded.
“So who’s Tolu?,” I asked.
“Nobody, I made them up,” she answered matter of factly. She stopped in front of the door we entered from, “This staircase goes all the way to the basement. Down there is a sewer access point and from there I can get you to our headquarters.”
“You’re sure you can get us out of here undetected?”
“Yes. I found refuge there during the Second Depuration. It’s deep in the Ossuaries, they never check down there out of superstition and for fear of getting lost in the tunnels.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I looked back to Tassev, “Blow the room.”
The ground shook as a loud boom echoed through the building. That should keep the guards busy. As we followed Amja down five stories I radioed in to the shuttle, “Objective neutralized, we are moving to a stronger position. Do you copy?” Silence answered me. “I repeat, this is Taskforce Revenant, the distress beacon is down. Do you copy?”
“Copy,” the radio responded tersely. At least they didn’t get shot out of the sky.
We met no resistance going down the stairs. The civilians had cleared out and it looked like we beat the exterminator response. In the basement we made our way past maintenance rooms, generators, and more until we finally came across what looked like a manhole cover.
Amja hunched down and started to drag the cover off, “A little help?”
In one fluid motion Tassev reached down and grabbed the cover before throwing it to the side. Luckily Amja let go the moment he stooped down or else she would have gone flying with it.
The Arxur eyed the small opening in the floor, “You expect us to fit down that?”
“Well, uh… I hadn't considered that. The drop isn’t that far, you might be able to fit if you tuck in your shoulders and hop down.”
Tassev shot me a sideways glance of disapproval, to which I shrugged. Amja noticed this and continued, “I’ll go down first.” She disappeared into the dark below for a second before we heard the sound of her jumping to the bottom. “See? It’s only a little taller than an Arxur.”
I took the lead and climbed down first. Colton followed immediately after me, then Jath, then Tassev, who barely avoided getting stuck. I climbed back up and dragged the cover back on the manhole before rejoining the group.
With our tracks covered Amja took out a flashlight and said, “Right, follow me and don’t get lost.”
Our own flashlights were far brighter than hers, but even they did little to dent the darkness of the dingy tunnel. It actually didn’t smell as bad as one would suspect a sewer would. We followed her through the sewers for what felt like an eternity, with Amja taking various turns and crossing to the other side of the tunnel at what seemed to be arbitrary points. Surprisingly it was Usli who first began to make small talk as we navigated the underground.
“So, Amja was it? You said something earlier about me not looking like a collaborator?”
“You don't know? Wait, of course. You must have been evacuated by the humans before everything happened. They're traitors who sided with the Federation after the takeover. At first there were few who applied to betray our people, but when ration cards became few and far between their ranks swelled. You really didn’t know about them before? Your impression of one was uncanny, you really looked like you were scared to order us around. Not making eye contact, pretending like you don’t know how to hold your gun, the whole nine yards.”
“Ha, y-yeah…”, Usli replied halfheartedly, choosing not to continue this line of conversation.
Sensing the awkwardness of the situation, I stepped up to reiterate my previous question, “So why are you helping us? You didn’t kill those birds just because.”
Amja’s voice took on a wistful tone, “When the Federation took over they cracked down, hard. The entire government was thrown out overnight and replaced with the Custodianship. At its head is a Kolshian known as the Governor. He talks all high and mighty about how we are a young, naive race, deceived by humans into betraying the Federation. He promised to bring new prosperity, but instead he launched the Depurations.”
Before she could elaborate further she stopped in place and began feeling the wall. “Let’s see it should be riiight aboouuuttt here!” She kicked at the wall, causing the bricks to cave inwards and revealing the tunnel hidden behind. Crawling into this space the air felt cooler, but much dustier. I shined my light to the side and was met with the sight of numerous Yotul skulls lining the wall inches from my face.
“GAH! WHAT THE-”
“Sorry,” Amja blurted out. “I should have warned you. The ossuaries are a network of ancient burial chambers that stretch under the city. There’s… a lot of bones down here.”
“Oh so it’s like the Catacombs that used to exist in Paris?,” Colton questioned.
“I’m not aware of this ‘Paris’ you speak of.”
“It’s a city on Earth,” I interjected. “It had a uh, similar kind of burial structure at one time.”
“Really? The Federation told us we were the only race to build ‘something so backwards and barbaric’”
“Well,” I replied, “it looks like our races have more in common than we think.” The Yotul smiled at that notion and continued to lead us forward.
“Now where was I… Oh yes, the Depurations. Immediately after the invasion, the Governor launched the First Depuration, a planet wide effort to gather those afflicted with predator disease and ‘treat’ them more thoroughly than had been done before. They rounded up everyone who was documented as having the disease and shipped them off to who knows where. On TV they would show so-called success stories, but you can’t find a single person who knows anyone who returned from it. A year passed, and they started the Second Depuration. This time they systematically examined the population to find remaining cases of predator disease. Along with finding genuine undiagnosed cases, they rounded up anyone who criticized the Federation’s governance under the pretense that those individuals had the disease as well. I was in the former group. When it was my turn for examination I failed the test.” She cast a forlorn look over her shoulder, “I had only just matured, I had my whole life ahead of me and… they took it away. My future, gone. All my studies meant nothing. All my applications and apprenticeships, amounted to nothing. My so-called friends abandoned me, fearing they would be next if they stood up for me. I ran, living on the streets hiding for weeks until I found others like me. Together we found our way into the Ossuaries and took to saving others like ourselves. Eventually, as our ranks grew, we got more organized. Pooling our resources we were able to create new identities so that some of us could return to the surface.”
“And you took a job that put you next to critical infrastructure,” Jath observed.
“Yes. We knew we could never overthrow the Custodianship, and even if we did what would stop them from bombing us like they did to Earth? Our only hope lied in humanity’s return like your leaders promised us. The only thing we could feasibly do to help you was disable the planetary distress beacon. When Usli ran in yelling about humans attacking I stuck to the plan.” Amja sighed before continuing, “I heard the rumors, these past few weeks. That humanity was on the offensive. I didn't believe them, I've gotten my hopes up for nothing too many times before. But now... it still doesn't even feel real that I'm talking with you." Digressing from that line of thought she shook her head and said, "Come, it’s not far now.”
Apparently “not far now” was still very far as we continued down the unending winding bone-strewn corridors of the Ossuaries until finally we could see an artificial light source in the distance. Amja stopped us and went ahead for a moment before returning. “We can proceed, but stay back when we reach the main chamber. Most haven’t met a human let alone an Arxur. It will be easier if I can talk to them for a moment first.”
Just around the corner where the light source sat was an armed Yotul clinging to the shadows, a guard for this place no doubt. His slouched posture grew rigid at our passing. We continued down a series of tunnels that were now well lit until the hall opened into a large open space devoid of remains. In this chamber there were numerous spaces sectioned off by makeshift barriers to form separate rooms. Thirty or so Yotul were gathered around what looked to be a radio, among them were several children. Amja motioned for us to stop and moved ahead into the open.
“Amja!” An elderly looking Yotul called out, “It is good to see you! Come, you must have heard the news.”
“Yes, I was at work when it happened.”
“Ah, so that was your doing? We were worried about you. You never told us you acquired explosives for the task, but that is besides the point. I assume I don’t need to bring you up to speed with the current situation above.”
“What situation?”
“You don’t know?" The older Yotul asked in genuine surprise. "The message has been repeating for an hour now." He gestured for someone to fiddle with the radio.
The operator turned it up and a broadcast emerged through heavy static,
“This is Admiral Monahan of the Terran First Fleet. To the people of Yotul Prime, humanity has returned. As I speak, our forces are sweeping the Federation from the system. Our naval superiority is overwhelming. Our armies stand ready to drive the Federation from rightful Yotul soil. I call upon Federation forces both in space and on Yotul Prime to stop this senseless bloodshed and surrender immediately. The liberation of the Yotul people is at hand.”
The radio was turned down once more before the old Yotul spoke again, “They’ve come at last! The regime is in complete disarray from what we have gathered. They did not expect them to come so fast. How did you not know? Why else would you blow your cover?”
Amja looked over her shoulder and gestured for us to reveal ourselves. “I met some friends you would like to meet.”
Stepping out from the corridor, a collective gasp overtook the crowd. Even the elder Yotul looked flabbergasted at our presence, before shaking his head and letting out a hearty laugh.
Walking forward he greeted us, “Welcome, welcome!” He reached out and shook my hand, “I believe this is how your people greet each other, yes? Who might you be?”
“Captain Price, Sir. Taskforce Revenant, United Terran Confederation Special Forces.”
Looking over his shoulder he laughed, “Special forces? Ha ha! You know how to pick friends!”
“I do my best,” Amja shrugged.
The old Yotul’s eyes wandered to Jath and Tassev. “Ah, I see you have Arxur with you. I assume they’re not here to eat us.”
“Grampaw…” one of the children in the crowd sighed in embarrassment.
“It’s a fair question!" He looked back to us, "I joke of course, sorry if my humor is not in the best taste, err… no pun intended.”
“No offense taken,” Jath replied. “We get that a lot even on Earth.”
Finally the Yotul’s eyes fell on Usli, “And who is this young man? You look… familiar”
“Corporal Usli, sir.”
The old Yotul pondered Usli’s answer for a moment. “Usli, Usli… wait. No, couldn’t be… Are you Gluso’s son by chance?
“I- don’t remember my parent’s names. My father worked in the Chancellor’s government, before.”
He looked Usli up and down again. “It is you! Has to be. My goodness you’ve grown boy! Last time I saw you you had just left your mother’s pouch!"
Usli’s eyes opened wide as his ears perked up, “Wait, you knew my father?
"Yes, we were acquaintances. Didn't often see eye to eye, but when it came to questioning the Federation and their ways we had common ground. And after your diagnosis, well-”
Usli interrupted, "Where is he? Is he okay?”
The old Yotul cast his gaze downward, “I don’t know. The last time I saw him was before the invasion.” Looking up again he continued, “You’re his spitting image though. You remind me of the first time I saw him walking up the Capitol steps…” He stopped reminiscing and turned to face me. Gesturing over his shoulder he said, “Come! Take a seat. Lie down. You all must be tired from your journey. There's plenty of time to get acquainted where I can rest these old bones.”