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Overview of the Blackmail Running Our World

2023.06.02 05:56 NeedleworkerSad357 Overview of the Blackmail Running Our World

This post is an overview of the blackmail tactics used to control most of the influential people and governments around the world. Obviously I cannot cover everything in a single post, so as with my previous posts I highly encourage you to research further yourself. All sources and links are at the bottom of the post. An understanding of what trauma-based mind control programming (MKULTRA/MONARCH) is, and how it works, is again necessary to understanding much of this. My other posts here:
The world is run on blackmail, mind control, and shame.
There exist many collections of videotapes of 'high-up' people engaging in some of the worst, sickest things imaginable. Drugs, torture, pedophilia, and murder are common themes to these videos. These tapes are in the hands of many different people, groups, and especially intelligence agencies. 'Honey-trap' operations are constantly being run to gather compromising and incriminating evidence on people of importance. Child slaves will be used to compromise people on video. Global leaders are often covertly videotaped doing perverted things with sex slaves sent to them by intelligence agencies, the Illuminati, or other groups, and this is then leveraged. Rape and murder of a child (forced or not), one of the most repulsive things possible, is many times filmed to ensure future compliance.
"Back in 1966, Rothstein became the first police detective assigned to investigate the prostitution industry. Almost immediately he discovered an underground sexual blackmail operation that compromised politicians with child prostitutes. ‘Human Compromise’ is what he labelled the honey-trap process. Rothstein and his colleagues found that approximately 70 percent of top US Government leaders were compromised in this way. Rothstein said, the CIA conducted the human compromise operation, while the FBI was tasked with covering up any leaks."
"One of the things I found out over the last ten years of studying governments and listening to intelligence and counter-intelligence is that those in government are sexually compromised, and their sexual secrets are collected and then they are promoted into governments and into judiciaries and into all the positions of importance. Paedophilia is the preferred dirt as it is easily photographed, easily presented in a range of media, immensely shameful, and the public demands your resignation."
"Paul Bonacci, one of the victim-witnesses in the Franklin affair, also clearly stated Larry King used him in blackmail operations in New York and Washington. The latter was in connection with the activities of a close associate of Larry King, Craig Spence, who was involved in a prostitution ring consisting of underaged boys that were supplied to Washington's upper class, which went right up to the White House."
"Sexually bent politicians in denial of their sexuality to the public are a threat to their own country and policies. They are easily setup, photographed, politically bribed, toppled, and supported in the destruction of their country. This method of altering a country’s policies is epidemic and now endemic to politics."
"Bob (Hope) was politically connected and knew how to lure people in and insure they would work for him. He invited them to his parties and dangled various kinds of illegal or immoral perversions in their faces. Once their perversions were uncovered, he could blackmail or control them. That is how Bob worked. Bob was very good at this. I watched him do it to people over and over. He lured them in, detected their weaknesses, then used that knowledge in his favor, for his connections, and ultimately for his personal gain."
These blackmail 'practices' are often used in conjunction with trauma-based mind control. This mind control is an integral component of, and is deeply intertwined with child trafficking, sex slavery, Satanic ritual abuse, and many other horrific crimes. Many of the children used for blackmail are programmed, and many of the people being blackmailed (including (sometimes future) politicians, leaders, presidents, etc.) are also programmed themselves.
"My personal belief, based on my experiences, is that over the years, more leaders were under mind control."
"Fritz Springmeier notes that 'It is a standard tactic of the Illuminati, their New World Order and its various branches to use fear and blackmail to bring people into line.' Cheryl Beck had a 'sexy Sadie' program that was used to blackmail government and military people as a child prostitute seductress. Cathy O’Brien’s daughter Kelly was 'being prostituted to the CIA for blackmail purposes.' Svali notes that using child prostitutes to blackmail political leadership outside of the Illuminati was very common."
"Beryl-Green said Epstein knew about MKULTRA. He was into mind-controlling victims and satanic ritual abuse (SRA). Epstein was into DNA mixing, human cloning and he knew about New World Order plans."
"This dirty game has been honed to a fine art, which is a standard feature of the Illuminati/intelligence groups. The CIA term for blackmail is an 'OK FIX.' When they use a person’s past sins to force someone to do something they refer to this as 'biographic leverage.' Any weak point in a person can and will be exploited. Sexual entrapment for blackmail is referred to as a 'HONEY TRAP'. Black widow alters are being trained and sent out for this purpose. In order to blackmail, or threaten, you have to have something to threaten the person with. Men are frequently entrapped by sexual behavior which is criminal. Sometimes they are also entrapped by murder. The Monarch slave will be allowed to have children so that they can be blackmailed into complying to save the children or grandchildren. The Monarch slave in turn may be used to blackmail others. Certain alters are trained in this. A Monarch Beta model is highly trained in seduction. Many politicians and ministers are operating under blackmail today. The extent that blackmail is being used by the NWO would boggle people’s minds. Porn films are taken of the Monarch victims, so that they can be used to blackmail the victim. Monarch victims are forced to commit ritual murders which are photographed and then used to blackmail the mind-controlled victim."
Intelligence agencies all over the world utilize blackmail, routinely employing and exploiting it as much as possible. It is an extremely important 'tool' of theirs. Operations are done to gather the incriminating evidence.
"Other 'neutralisations' verge on the bizarre. An individual who must remain nameless for a variety of reasons - but whose name is known to this writer - underwent an experience that is both horrific and chilling. I shall call this individual 'Mr. X' or, simply, 'X'. Mr. X was a leader of one of the largest CIA-backed Contra groups. He recently testified before the US Senate Intelligence Committee. Formerly, X was a senior executive in a South American subsidiary of a leading US soft drinks corporation. During his Senate testimony, he denied any knowledge of CIA involvement in the narcotics trade, adding that condoning such activity would have been foreign to his way of life. Not so, says Tatum. Mr. X had been recruited into the CIA by then-Director William Casey, with the assistance of Oliver North. In 1990, when Nicaraguan leader Daniel Ortega announced there would be 'free elections', X was ecstatic. He began jostling for position and asked President Bush to ensure he be given a prominent position in the new government - in return for his years of toil at the behest of the CIA and the Enterprise. The pressure came in a form that Bush could not ignore. Failure to help his friend would result in X's intimate knowledge of Bush's involvement in the dope trade being made public. His threat left Bush with a sour taste. A Pegasus team was assigned to 'neutralise' him in early 1990. Mr. X, Tatum states, 'fancied himself a lover of women. Tall, large-breasted blondes were his favourite. It was determined that, if effectively neutralised, [X] could be an asset. Therefore, it was decided that intimidation would be used to control [X].' They chose to use the drug Scopolamine, which also went by the nickname 'Burundanga' or 'the Voodoo drug'. The drug is extracted from the pods of a flowering shrub that grows in remote regions of South America. In its processed, powdered form, Scopolamine is 'void of smell, void of taste'. When properly administered 'it causes absolute obedience' without this being 'observable by others'. Importantly, the target will not recall any of the events that occurred during the period they were under the spell of the drug. Tatum states that X was invited to spend a relaxing weekend at a luxury hotel as a guest of his friend George Bush. His host for the weekend was a trusted 18-year veteran field-intelligence officer. The evening started with cocktails and was followed by a fine meal. ''Nothing but the best' were the orders.' Following the meal, he was ushered into the suite of a 'blonde bombshell' supplied by the CIA. Mr. X had already ingested a dose of Burundanga during pre-dinner cocktails. X was gallant with the blonde as they both moved into the bedroom where video cameras were already set up in one corner. In short order, the blonde had X standing naked in front of her and began to indulge his desires. All the while, the video cameras whirred. Slowly stripping off, the 'blonde' revealed his manhood in all its glory. Mr. X was instructed to reciprocate the favour and perform fellatio. He obliged, his intimate activities recorded at 24 frames a second on videotape. Tatum says the male prostitute was hired from a bar in New York and killed that same evening. Two weeks later, X - wholly unaware of the events of that evening - was visited in Nicaragua. He was presented with a copy of the video footage, along with instructions. Tatum says that X can never allow that video to be seen: 'Not only does it reveal his homosexuality, but it also reveals his bestiality and satanic worship rituals.' As frame after frame flicked by, X reportedly wept, forced to watch himself kill his homosexual 'lover' and then engage in the most grisly cannabalistic ritual imaginable. Neutralised, Mr. X became a leading member of the Nicaraguan government a few short weeks later."
"Check out the FBI records on Scarlett: What was his original HOOK that got him so deeply embedded into UK Illuminati culture? He murdered the nanny of Lord Lucan in the 1970's. Lucan wasn't actually involved. Scarlett got it wrong. He was under mind control at the time. How we all laughed on his training sessions when we heard that one. Not funny, really. We were all in the same boat. Each had something terrible attached to us, in our past. That is all part and parcel of the Illuminati contract. Young people forced under mind control to commit murder when young and then later on, picked up by British Intelligence to be used and abused as they wished - as loyal servants of the British Crown. One can only hope that by exposing these HOOKS, that some sort of amnesty can prevail. If these people are freed from the demonic Illuminati contract by exposing their HOOKS - one can only hope that they will come forward as a sizeable and influential body of political and public figures, in order to put an end to it. Here's hoping. Check out Rimington's hook to see what sort of mind ran MI5 for so long. It's a game called 'mafia' and it is ALL about blackmail."
"...He had previously signed off on Epstein’s 'sweetheart deal' because Epstein 'had belonged to intelligence.' Acosta, then serving as US attorney for Southern Florida, had also been told by unspecified figures at the time that he needed to give Epstein a lenient sentence because of his links to 'intelligence.'"
"Detective Rothstein found that the CIA were behind a blackmail operation in which child prostitutes were used to honey-trap and compromise politicians, military brass, top businessmen, and key government officials. Rothstein, who arrested the key Watergate perpetrator, said Watergate solely concerned this human compromise racket, and specifically was an attempt to obtain a list of compromised pedophile VIPs and their proclivities that was held at the Democratic National Headquarters."
"Michael Aquino was in the military. He had top Pentagon clearances. He was a pedophile. He was a Satanist. He founded the Temple of Set. And he was a close friend of Anton LaVey. The two of them were very active in ritualistic sexual abuse. And they deferred funding from this government program to use in this experimentation on children. Where they deliberately split off the personalities of these children into multiples, so that when they're questioned or put under oath or questioned under lie detector, that unless the operator knows how to question a multiple-personality disorder, they turn up with no evidence. They used these kids to sexually compromise politicians or anyone else they wish to have control of...they were taken to be used by professional pedophiles. People that have the money to buy what they want, take the kids wherever they want...and by splitting the children’s personalities they could then train each one of the personalities to do a different function. And the rest of the personalities within that host personality would not be aware of it or remember it."
"Vinson also told Nick Bryant that Spence and Larry King were 'partners' and 'hooked up with the CIA', stating specifically that 'King and Spence were in business together, and their business was pedophilic blackmail.' They were transporting children all over the country. They would arrange for children to be flown into Washington, DC and also arrange for influential people in DC to be flown out to the Midwest and meet these kids. Per Vinson, Larry King had confided in him that he had clients who liked to torture and even kill children: 'King said they had clients who actually liked having sex with kids as they tortured or killed the kid. I found that totally unbelievable.' After Vinson said this to Nick Bryant, he asked Bryant later on in the interview if King’s disclosure had indeed been true. He was unaware at the time that other evidence, including witness testimony, had suggested that it was."
"According to fugitive ex-CIA officer Frank Terpil, CIA-directed sexual blackmailing operations were intensive in Washington at about the time of the Watergate scandal. One of those operations, Terpil claims, was run by his former partner, Ed Wilson. Wilson's base of operations for arranging trysts for the politically powerful was, Terpil says, Korean agent Ton Sun Park’s George Town Club. In a letter to the author, Terpil explained that ‘Historically, one of Wilson’s Agency jobs was to subvert members of both houses [of Congress] by any means necessary. Certain people could be easily coerced by living out their sexual fantasies in the flesh...A remembrance of these occasions was permanently recorded via selected cameras...The technicians in charge of filming were TSD [Technical Services Division of the CIA]...The unwitting porno stars advanced in their political careers, some of whom may still be in office.'"
"Intelligence and counter intelligence ‘work’, and they ‘work together’ to create scenarios that are so unbelievable that they cannot be published in the mainstream media, and if they are, they will appear like a joke. The information to blackmail a country, to blackmail its politicians, to blackmail its Prime Ministers and Presidents, to blackmail its judges and lawyers is a very serious matter."
The Illuminati and other cults also engage in the same blackmail operations. There is a huge overlap between secret societies/cults and intelligence, with top intelligence usually being run by them. All of them do this.
"I was able to have first hand access to the Jeffrey Epstein case investigation documents. According to the documents, Epstein was the head of a global fraternity related to the Shriners called The Royal Order of Jesters. This order is covered with scandals and lawsuits related to human trafficking, but they are very protected because many members of the order are high-profile political figures and businessmen. It is crazy how these people manage to operate under the radar for so many years, decades...Now you may ask how they do this? Easy...By using blackmail tactics, they manage to have Judges and Law Enforcement licking their feet. That's how Jeffery Epstein got assassinated. After he was out of the game, the whole business is run by other people. Major names are involved and many high-profile people who are all bound to the order by means of blackmail. This is particularly disturbing when you find out that the cases of Catholic priests involved in sex scandals are events organized by The Order of Jesters. They run blackmail operations with the purpose of seducing people in power...With those videos in their power, the careers and the public image of many people are in the Jester's hands. They are free to do anything, they can turn even the President of the United States into a slave."
-- "Jeffrey Epstein Post" [7]
"Illuminati 'FROG ON A LILYPAD' programming: The FROG as a paedophile - with no 'tadpole tail/tale', as in no memory of what he/she has done until they get past 40 years old. It becomes clear that so many people were forced to be paedophiles and to abuse their children - only to wake up to all of this later on - post 40 years old. Then to have Stella Rimington on their doorstep with a videotape - telling them that she will send it to the police if they do not do precisely what she says. The ultimate blackmail weapons combined: A tape of you committing paedophilia - and even worse - incest with your own children. Guaranteed to 'silence' most people for life. The scope of this Illuminati blackmail project has been immense, in British society and it has to be exposed. There is safety in numbers."
"(Sue) Arrigo adds that the kids with the most smarts and/or looks, about 5% are skimmed off the top by the Luciferians in charge like the Bushes and used as either spies or corporate sex slaves or both. They’re typically pimped out on high priced loans to influential politicians as house boy and girls to ensure the puppets in Congress are happy and blackmail-able for control."
"The Masonic leadership of Freemasonry in a given area will have thousands of 'blackmail' files on essentially everyone of importance in their area. Upper echelon people such as judges, lawyers, and politicians are generally controlled via IRS infringements, and many of the lower echelon people are controlled through weird sexual items. This is where the Delta and Beta Monarch slaves are so helpful to the Illuminati. (This information comes from several witnesses who are informed about the blackmail files & their methods for blackmailing.)"
These people are already in power, and have set their system up so that nobody rises to a prominent, powerful, or influential position without being selected, extensively compromised, controllable, and usually under mind control. They are all 'in it together', and because of this they protect eachother. Most have 'insurance' on one another.
"The most common phrase associated with that one was ‘talk about the pot calling the kettle black’, meaning that each Illuminati slave had been caught on camera and from an early age – doing something terrible – as Rimington was fond of saying ‘we are all as bad as each other and all in it together.’"
"Oftentimes when I and others were prostituted to various government (New World Order) leaders, Dante had hidden cameras filming perverse sexual acts apparently for future blackmail leverage. These videos were scandalous in proportion and were usually ordered by Reagan. Dante turned the videos over to Reagan, and covertly kept copies to protect himself. Dante converted a small room of his Beverly Hills mansion into a security vault, where he kept his personal copies of the international blackmail porn tapes there. Blackmail was openly initiated to ensure that each criminal participant understood that if one fell, they all fell. Maintaining 'dirt' on each other through this Mafia-style method was seemingly the only way these criminals implementing the New World Order kept each other 'honest.'"
"The Watergate break-in was strictly based on one thing - the pedophile records that were being kept at the Democratic National Headquarters."
"In 1972, Rothstein arrested one of the five Watergate burglars, CIA operative Frank Sturgis. During a subsequent two-hour interrogation, Rothstein discovered the truth about Watergate (plus Sturgis’ and the CIA’s involvement in the Bay of Pigs incident, and the related assassination of JFK). Sturgis told Rothstein, the Watergate burglars sought something they nicknamed ‘The Book’ which listed the Democratic and Republican politicians who accessed child prostitutes, their sexual proclivities, the amounts they paid to rape kids, etc."
There are certain places known for this, two famous examples being Little St. James island or Bohemian Grove (there are many, many others).
"For those of you who are interested in Bohemian Grove and the current list upon the Internet of those poor unsuspecting 'invitees' who will be pressganged into going (and subsequently blackmailed out of their minds afterwards, by the Illuminati)...the entrapment going on at Bohemian Grove is of an avaricious and esoteric nature - in relation to all of those unlucky 'invitees' who want to join this 'prestigious club' but then get videoed doing things that they wouldn't want anyone to know about - 'guests' who are then subsequently blackmailed out of their brains...and for the rest of their lives. But then that was what the Illuminati cult and their Sat B'hai contract has always been about...promising that you would get everything for nothing (if you agreed to be unquestioningly obedient to the Crown) and that you would now be part of an 'esoteric' prestigious Satanic club."
"Numerous videos are covertly produced at the supposedly secure political sex playground in northern California, Bohemian Grove. High tech undetectable cameras use fiber optics, and fish-eye lenses were in each of the elite club's numerous sexual perversion theme rooms. I was programmed and equipped to function in all rooms at Bohemian Grove in order to compromise specific government targets according to their personal perversions. 'Anything, anytime, anywhere with anyone' was my mode of operation at the Grove. My perception is that Bohemian Grove serves those ushering in the New World Order through mind control, and consists primarily of the highest Mafia and U.S. Government officials. Project Monarch mind controlled slaves were routinely abused there to fulfill the primary purpose of the club: purveying perversion. Bohemian Grove is reportedly intended to be used recreationally, providing a supposedly secure environment for politically affluent individuals to 'party' without restraint. The only business conducted there pertained to implementing the New World Order, through the proliferation of mind-control atrocities, giving the place an air of 'Masonic Secrecy'. The only room where business discussions were permitted was the small, dark lounge affectionately and appropriately referred to as the Underground. The wooden sign was carved to read: 'U.N.DERGROUND'. My purpose at the Grove was sexual in nature, and therefore my perceptions were limited to a sex slave's viewpoint. As an effective means of control to ensure undetected proliferation of their perverse indulgences, slaves such as myself were subjected to ritualistic trauma. Slaves of advancing age or with failing programming were sacrificially murdered 'at random' in the wooded grounds of Bohemian Grave, and I felt it was 'simply a matter of time until it would be me'. Rituals were held at a giant, concrete owl monument on the banks of the Russian River. These occultish sex rituals stemmed from the scientific belief that mind-controlled slaves required severe trauma to ensure compartmentalization of the memory. I witnessed the sacrificial death of a young, dark-haired victim at which time I was instructed to perform sexually 'as though my life depended upon it'. I was told, 'The next sacrifice victim could be you.' The club offered a 'Necrophilia' themed room to its members. I was so heavily drugged and programmed when used in the 'necrophilia' room, that the threat of actually 'slipping through death's door' and being sacrificed 'before I knew it' did not affect me. Other perversion theme rooms at the Bohemian Club included what I heard Ford refer to as the 'Dark Room'. When he not so cleverly said, 'Let's go to the Dark Room and see what develops,' I understood from experience that he was interested in indulging in his perverse obsession for pornography. In the Dark Room, members had sex with the same mind-controlled slave they were viewing in porn on a big screen television. There was a triangular glass display centered in a main through way where I was locked in with various trained animals, including snakes. Members walking by watched illicit sex acts of bestiality, women with women, mothers with daughters, kids with kids, or any other unlimited perverse visual display. I was once brutally assaulted by Dick Cheney in the Leather Room, which was designed like a dark, black leather-lined train berth. There was a room of shackles and tortures, black lights and strobes, an opium den, ritualistic sex altars, a chapel, group orgy rooms including poster beds, water beds, and 'kitten' houses. I was used as a 'rag doll' in the 'toy store,' and as a urinal in the 'golden arches' room. From the owl's roost to the necrophilia room, no memory of sexual abuse is as horrifying as the conversations overheard in the Underground pertaining to implementing the New World Order. I learned that perpetrators believed that controlling the masses through propaganda mind manipulation did not guarantee there would be a world left to dominate due to environmental and overpopulation problems. The solution being debated was not pollution/population control, but mass genocide of 'selected undesirables'."
News 'headlines' with hidden symbolic communication are also used by intelligence and other groups, many times referring to blackmail (among the many other varieties of covert operations).
"'Nuclear' is a comm used all over the world to symbolize extraordinarily explosive information, like blackmail. Which is why if we reconcile blackmail with news about nuclear, a secret truth will become clear. The two most powerful blackmailers ever? That would probably be Jeffrey Epstein and Hugh Hefner. And this is why the deaths of blackmailers like Hugh Hefner and Jeffrey Epstein both coincided with 'Nuclear Accidents':"
08/09/2019 Is Putin covering up a Nuclear disaster?
09/26/2017 Nuclear explosion kept secret by Russia
"Why are CIA blackmailers dying the day after Russia declares nuclear accidents? The reason for the -1 day in Epstein’s case is they likely died before the official day, and these comms were to give agents a heads up on the upcoming BOOM before it hits papers. In Hefners case they had to signal people to move the blackmail. The point as stated is a lot of 'nuclear' is all about blackmail. Not all of it, but a lot of it."
Blackmail is a worldwide 'practice', with all countries and their governments engaging in aquiring and utilizing it to the fullest.
"Just as the 1986 Mirano scandal, the X-Dossiers contain evidence that sexual blackmail operations, whoever is running them, are not limited to the United States. In 1996, X1 reported how the same activities had been going on in Brussels."
"As the bewildered Belgians tried to make sense of what was going on, incredible rumours began circulating that Dutroux might have been protected in some way, that he had friends in high places. Pornographic videos taken from his home were said to feature prominent individuals, one a senior member of the Roman Catholic church. It almost defied belief. Who would protect a psychopath, other than people with something truly terrible to hide?...'It is quite obvious,' said Katarin de Clercq, Belgian coordinator of the pressure group End Child Prostitution Abduction and Trafficking, 'that some people were protecting Dutroux. The government tried to convince us that he was a lone serial killer and psychopath, but now we hear stories about unnamed famous personalities being involved in sex orgies and blackmail and pornographic video tapes. People feel that something is completely wrong here and we have to show we will not tolerate it.'"
"I was unfortunate enough to attend the IHS Templar Castle rite in 2001. Amongst the people in attendence were: J. K. Rowling. Gordon Brown. David Miliband. Stephen Daldry. Stella Rimington (she was the Dr. Mengele of the organisation, organising the torture and murder of kidnapped children). Dr. Joanne Collie. Andrew Marr (he spent most of the time naked and screaming - off his head on some form of narcotic). John Scarlett (he was so drunk/drugged up that he had very little idea of what was going on around him). The Templars had captured a large amount of people whom they called the 'snakes' i.e. slaves in a large dungeon underneath the castle. One brave person managed to set them free and the result in the neighbouring village of Mons and other places nearby, ensured that the British Army had to move in. Thus began the most incredible cover-up in recent European history. It was like WACO, Guyana. I was one of the 'slaves' taken at that castle but subsequently freed by the British Army (who also know what happened - a MASSIVE cover-up). The British Army ordered those in the Castle to come out. They then sent a tank in to bulldoze the walls. Prince Philip and Prince William were in that Castle. Both of them had murdered countless tiny children in their rites. The British Army assembled watched as both walked out with large, dark, woven potato sacks over their heads. They were then bundled into a van and driven away. The name SPUDNIKS was coined because Prince Philip and Prince William had to exit the castle with potato sacks pulled down over their heads and bodies. The British Army present at the time - may or may not have had any idea who they were but the SIS general there, certainly did. They might have managed to cover it up regarding the ordinary soldiers there but the videotapes are now on sale worldwide. The whole event had been closely monitored for blackmail purposes."
The CIA also blackmails incestual/pedophilic parents for their children to use in trauma-based mind control slave projects like MONARCH.
"My Uncle Bob, also implicated in manufacturing the porn, out of apparent desperation informed my father of a U.S. Government Defense Intelligence Agency TOP SECRET Project to which he was privy. This was Project Monarch. Project Monarch was a mind-control operation which was 'recruiting' multigenerational incest abused children with Multiple Personality Disorder for its genetic mind-control studies. I was a prime 'candidate,' a 'chosen one'. My father seized the opportunity as it would provide him immunity from prosecution."
"The expendables are the children of parents who were blackmailed into turning their children over to the CIA. This is all hidden by the power of the National Security Act. These are children, who have been sold by pedophile fathers, or pornographic parents. The programmers/masters program them with the expectation that they will be "thrown from the freedom train" when they get to age 30. (Freedom Train is the code word for the Monarch trauma-based mind-control. To be thrown from the Freedom Train means to be killed.) The CIA and the Illuminati are skilled at blackmailing parents to give up their children. They would watch the mail for porn. Pedophile and murderers who abuse their children are warned that they will go to prison for long lengths of time if they do not cooperate by selling their children into mind-controlled slavery. In return for the parent’s cooperation, they provide rich financial rewards to the parent(s). It’s clearly a case of 'if you don’t cooperate you lose in life big time, if you do cooperate you win big time.'"
Blackmail is the glue holding together all of the sick people in charge, and is the one of the top methods of control. This is the truth: blackmail, pedophilia, and mind control are how this world is really run.
"Former CIA director William Colby giving advice to John DeCamp, urging him to quit his investigations into the Franklin child abuse affair:"
"'What you have to understand, John, is that sometimes there are forces and events too big, too powerful, with so much at stake for other people or institutions, that you cannot do anything about them, no matter how evil or wrong they are and no matter how dedicated or sincere you are or how much evidence you have. This is simply one of the hard facts of life you have to face.'"
"Again, it’s built in, entrenched foxes guarding the predatory henhouse that permeate all levels of government, military, courts, law enforcement, entertainment and news media, corporate global finance and education. With pedophile puppet masters controlling the pedophile puppet strings of blackmailed, compromised and controlled Western politicians, courts and law enforcement, their diabolical infrastructure has afforded them living above the law continuing to rape and kill our innocents for centuries."
Links and Sources
[1] - Noreen Gosch Speaks About - Jeff Gannon, Johnny Gosch And The Attempted Theft Of Her Book 'Why Johnny Can't Come Home'
[2] - Master List of Quotes and Comments
[3] - Trance-Formation of America
[4] - One Nation Under Blackmail
[5] - Thanks for the Memories
[6] - Eyes Wide Open
[7] - "I had access to classified documents about the Jeffrey Epstein case"
[8] - Child Trafficking, Ritual Sex Abuse & MK-ULTRA Are A Single Worldwide Operation, Run by the U.S., U.K. and AUS Secret Services
[9]- Symbolism Communication
[10] - An Illuminati Primer
[11] - The Reality of Protected Child Abuse Networks
[12] - The Hallett Report No. 1
[13] - The Pegasus File
[14] - Anatomy of the Luciferian Elite’s Global Child Sex Trafficking Pedophile Operations
[15] - The Illuminati Formula Used To Create An Undetectable Mind Control Slave
[16] - Deeper Insights Into the Illuminati Formula
[17] - Hope Beryl-Green Article
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2023.06.02 05:51 SilvoKanuni Dawn on the Luzum - Barnam Pt. V

Ibandr, during the morning and afternoon so full of life and sound and laughter, slowed as the sky darkened above. The sun had set for some time and the shadows of the city were erratic and scattered in the evening torchlight. There were many lit throughout the city at sundown, many in the city center, some south by the riverbank to ward off animals, and some in the west by those who grew cotton and made goods. Shadr held one of these torches now. He was a young man, having grown up in Ibandr and never knowing the starving times, although his father always spoke of them. He had also talked to him about the day the city spilled its own blood. How he had been part of the fight to retake Ibandr from the Zivold and how he barely survived, losing an arm for his efforts. When the eastern man had come - Barnam had been his name - his father jumped at the chance to sabotage the man who stole their lives, even if it had been so long. Shadr’s father was too old but Shadr himself was not, the young man eager to serve his family however he may. So now he stood as the sun set, stick alight with flame, looking at the large pile of dried grass and hemp and cotton. Waiting.
Over a hundred men on horses galloped toward Ibandr. Barnam rode at the head, taking one last glance over his shoulder at the men riding behind him, Shahadr’s Point falling further in the distance. It was getting darker by the gallop, the sun having set to their right. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. The rhythm of horseback calmed Barnam. He felt at home, at peace on horseback now. His life with the Albayet had been good to him, prepared him for his duty. He looked at the sky as he rode, the first twinkling stars shining in the dusk. He blinked. What was that? Another! A streak of light shot through the blackening blue of the heavens. Some time passed then, another!
“Vastatn blesses us on this night!” Barnam called to the riders behind him, pointing to the sky at the shooting stars making their way across the world. He gripped the spear in his hand tighter. Good fortune was to come.
Ibandr was more difficult to see as they rode on the flat plains between Shahadr’s Point and the city, but in the darkness he could just make it out. Flames. The old boys have done it then, he thought. When last in the city, he found an old friend of his father and that man’s son, Shadr. There were a handful of others but all too old or afraid to move against the Zivold. Shadr, though, was eager. Setting fire to the cotton in Ibandr’s west had worked well enough, if he could see the flames from here. The sky darkened as they neared the city. It was almost time.
He was close enough to hear shouting over the sound of the horses around him. Then, a great bellow louder than he’d ever heard. A bellow sounding across the city, the plain, again and again in long, slow bursts. An alarm? A call for help? Someone must have seen them. A hundred men on horseback would be hard to miss, but Barnam did not care. “It’s time, Albayet! Ride to our glory! Ride for Kalliza!”
Shouts of Kalliza, victory, to war called out behind him as the hundred split into three groups, one stayed straight behind Barnam while the others spread out in two directions, one to the west to the fire and the other to the east.
“Victory!” Barnam heard himself shouting as he burst into the city, the vastness of the plain suddenly replaced by houses and canals and patchwork fields of sorghum. Men, women, children had come out of their peripheral homes to answer the commotion, and Barnam looked at their terrified faces as they saw him and his horsemen ride toward them.
A scarred, weathered, bearded man, in billowing clothes carrying a spear in his right hand and a scythe tied to his hip, screaming as he charged on a horse. A sight to see. A last sight to see. He did not want to kill innocents, he did not mean to kill them, but you have to be realistic about these things. In the heat of war, Barnam would not stop to question each and every life he took. Today was a day of new beginnings, of a cleansing of the city and washing it in a new path. The stars streaking above were the ushering of a new dawn on the Luzum and Barnam would be damned if he would get in the way of that. He thought all these and more as his horse ran down the man who stood defiantly in front of him. As they made their way to the city, the screams confirmed that the first man was only one of many. You have to be realistic about these things.
The city had no way to prepare for what was coming. Through his whole life Barnam scarcely had heard of any meaningful raids on the city, or great battles between one city and another. Ibandr and its people had not been tried and tested as Barnam and the Albayet had.
With that Barnam could not have expected the first fighters they saw. Ten men burst forward down a street between two larger houses, two had spears and the rest holding hoes or scythes. They came so suddenly Barnam and the horseman next to him, Gudenle, had no time to move. Bunched up as they were they had no time to fight. One with a spear burst it through Gudenle’s horse, throwing him to the side. Another ran to finish Gudenle off but was stopped by a second spear bursting through him, Barnam having flung his own to defend his man. The defenders stood shocked for an extra breath, and Gudenle, with Kalliza watching over him, landed well and was on his feet. He swung a scythe from his hips into his arms and Barnam did the same. Barnam, Gudenle, and the other horsemen fought through the men then, losing two more horses but no tribesmen.
Having bested their first challenge, they trudged on. Barnam and the Albayet fought for quite some time as they made their way to the city center. Those who came to defend the city were few and far between, but they fought fiercely and bravely. By the time they reached the great storehouse of Ibandr and the Temple of Kutenr, only Barnam, Gudenle, and eleven others remained. Barnam dismounted from his horse to confront the sight before him. He and his Albayet stood opposite a tall, lean man dressed in cotton and some foreign leather clothing, with others around him. All stood fierce and tall, with either spears or blades of copper or stone. The tall, lean man held a copper blade in his right hand. Beyond, dozens of citizens were running either into their homes or making a dash to leave the city. Flames blazed in the west and a cacophony of screaming, neighing, and yelling filled the air.
“Where is the Zivold?” Barnam bellowed above the clamor. “I am Barnam, son of Huttl, a righteous man who walked in the light of the Paroxl. He was murdered by Attarnap, a coward and a thief, and I demand his presence in front of me today!”
The tall man raised his eyebrows and gasped. Behind him, the storehouse glowed in the light of the flames, encroaching closer and closer. “Barnam? Is that really you?” He started to laugh. “The little boy who lived on the edge of the furthest part of the city. Amazing, even the dung can come back to haunt you. And here I thought I was being punished for killing my father.”
“Your…” Barnam couldn’t believe what he had heard. “You killed… Attarnap? You killed the Zivold?”
The man who Barnam knew as Belis only nodded. “My father was complicated, Barnam. He was complicated and he was a fool. He thought he could take more and more, demand more and more of the people, and everything would be fine. This temple, those canals, that lake to hold the flood waters for a drought? Do you know how many died for those Barnam? Too many. Too many times there were riots like the one your father tried to start and I fear that if he stayed alive that would be the end of our,” he gestured to the men around him, “position in the city.”
Barnam could not believe what he was hearing. The men around Belis moved forward, and Barnam’s men did the same. “No!” Both men shouted at once. “He’s mine,” Belis said, and Barnam grunted in agreement. How dare he?
Barnam let out a roar. “How dare you take what was mine by right?” Barnam took a step forward, Belis almost stumbling to step back, keeping his distance. “Your father took the life of my own. Theft in its many forms is the only sin worthy of punishment by Marryagai the thief, is it not?” He held out his right arm, scythe in hand, rounding it on those who stood by to watch. Then, pointing at Belis, “and your father Attarnap stole the life of Huttl, stole a husband from a wife, a father from a son. and now you steal my revenge from me? You, Belis, lowlife of lowlives, believe you can take your father’s place. You, Belis, murderer of your own kin, your own father believe you can steal vengeance from me?” Bantam raised his arms, “Look at what you stand against! I am Barnam, son of the union between Mauair and Huttl, chosen by the Albayet to lay waste to what you claim, summoned by Samvastatn to bring glory to this earth. You call yourself Kutenr, as your father did?” He stepped closer. “Do you remember who Kutenrs nemesis is? Do you know the story of Kalliza, Paroxl of horses and creator of the plains, champion of the world when the greed of Kutenr and his grains grew too great. Look around you, Belis. I am Kalliza manifest in flesh and bone.”
Barnam cackled as he looked around him once more, taking yet another step toward Belis, and pointed with his scythe. “The gods have forsaken you, murderer! Dezmedetem rages behind you laying waste to all that you were. Samvastatn courses the sky with light, laying waste to all that you will be. And here I stand, I, Barnam of the Albayet, Barnam of Mauair and Huttl, Barnam the bane of Belis, Kalliza reborn, true lord of Ibandr, to lay waste to all that you are!”
With a guttural cry, the would-be conqueror flew at Belis. It was all Belis could do to raise his copper blade in time, a loud clang misshaping both scythe and sword as the two men connected. Barnam came at him with the fury of gods, whirling his scythe on Belis faster than he ever had. Belis stumbled back with each strike. Barnam was practiced, experienced, weathered from his life in the east, while Belis had only ever killed those around him with treachery, not skill. Belis was slower, weaker and more fatigued with each strike he had to block. But there was a chance. Barnam was the more skilled fighter, yes, but the fury of the gods which coursed through his veins made him move faster, think less. The maddening smile on Barnam’s face blinded him to any outcome but his victory. The Zivold’s eyes darted around with every chance, desperate to unearth some victory.
As the two men moved in their melee, Belis saw his chance. Barnam arced high and Belis, in one move, turned to yank a torch jutting from the ground, grabbing it with his left hand. The blade in his right flew at Barnam’s scythe while his left burst forward, torch in front, at Barnam’s face.
A howl of pain burst through the chants around them. Shocked by his own success, Belis stood there, mouth agape, torch and blade in hand. Barnam reeled from the strike, face almost smoking, and when he looked at Belis the right side of his head was a scarred and seared mass of red and pink flesh. Barnam stared at Belis, right eye almost blocked by the puffing of his face, and muttered something to him.
“What did you say, brute?” spat Belis at the hulking man in front of him.
“Burn me,” Barnam repeated, “and you burn the world.” The words of the Paroxl Kalliza, when he struck down Kutenr in their battle for the heavens. Barnam leapt at Belis once more. They fought again but this time there would be no mistake on Barnam’s part, and Belis felt it. Barnam pushed him further and further back toward the great storehouse. As they stood at the entry way, Belis’s arm outstretched with his balde in hand, Barnam brought his scythe down hard on the man’s wrist. A second howl of pain and a clang as Belis’ blade fell to the ground and his wrist was carved through. His hand was still attached but he’d be getting no use from it any longer.
“Stay back!” Belis screamed, waving the torch in front of him. On the floor in front, his shadow danced in the light of the growing fires in the western district. The flames were nearing them now, the heat coursing through the air. “Stay back you demon! You’ll get no more from me, you and your horseback brutes will not take this city while I live!”
Just as Barnam was to respond, “Then die,” Belis turned and ran into the storehouse. Barnam raced after him. “Take this monster!” Belis yelled as he shoved the torch onto an open pile of grain. The dry sorghum burst into flame, sparks flying and fires licking the roof. “Take this as your payment for your father’s death,” Belis was screaming now as he ran further in the storehouse, laying fire to piles of cotton, throwing off jar lids and burning the seeds and fibers within. Barnam could do nothing, impotent with his scythe, as a wall of fire separated him from Belis. Enraged, he bellowed and ran outside and around the storehouse to the Temple of Kutenr. Belis stood there now at the base. Behind him the storehouse was just beginning to burn as a whole. In front of him the temple, and behind the temple the fires of the western districts were finally upon them.
“So Barnam,” Belis stood at the base, torch flames licking the air and wrist dripping with blood, “is this was you wanted? Is this what you wanted to claim as your own?”
Barnam ran at him, raising his scythe and in one motion bringing it down on Belis’ neck. His face froze in horrified surprise and the scythe dug into his shoulders and neck, blood spurting from the wound. “Let it burn Belis. Let it all come to the ground from which we sprouted.” He brought his scythe out of Belis, who fell to the ground, gurglilng, and brought it back down to hack again and again. “Let it burn!” He was shouting, hacking, laughing, “Let it all burn! You stole my vengeance so now I shall have it back twelve-fold! Let it burn! We shall rebuild! We shall rebuild! We… shall… rebuild!” And with the final cut Belis came apart, head, neck, shoulder, and arm separated from the rest of him, face still looking on in horror at Barnam.
He was panting now, the man turned conqueror, his old and rutted copper scythe dented and broken from the fighting and the effort. He tossed it aside with a clang. His face burned from the torch, his lungs burned from the flames beside him, his muscles ached from the battle.
But above? Above the sky was a light with the streaks of a thousand stars, coursing through the sky as though it was Samvastatn and Niovollin creating the earth once more, sending stars from the heavens to course their energy through the world as rivers. Thousands and thousands of stars streaked across the sky, heralding the rise of a new man. A new Zivold. A new God.
“Barnam!” He looked behind him. Gudenle was coming from one of the round homes next to the storehouse, dragging a small, frail man behind with him. “Is this him?”
The man fell in front of Barnam, wrapped in bundles of cotton and hemp, thick matted hair gray and white with age. “Hadr,” Barnam breathed and knelt at him, putting his hands on the man’s shoulders.
Hadr brought his face up to look at Barnam. One thin, shaking hand came to rest on Barnam’s cheek, and he breathed a staggered breath. “Is that you Barnam? Is that you my boy?” A tear welled in his eye and he started to shake his head. “No, no, no,” Hadr muttered, “no, no no. Do not give me your empathy, my dear boy. I have wronged you.”
Barnam could not understand. Gudenle was saying something about needing to leave as the fire was only growing, but Barnam waved his hand and stared at Hadr. “It was me, Barnam,” the old man said through tears, “I betrayed your father, your uncle, everyone that day. I told Attarnap when i got you and your mother out of the city. It was me Barnam! I’m the reason your father is dead,” and he shook in his sobs, muttering, “let me die, boy, let me die.”
Hadr fumbled with his hands in his rags, but Barnam could barely see for the red that covered his vision. Hadr had betrayed his father, his family. Hadr had betrayed him. He grabbed Hadr by his hair and yanked his head up, putting the two men face to face. “You don’t die yet old man,” and he spat in his face. “You come with me. When the fires abate, you will proclaim me Zivold of Ibandr. You will proclaim that I am the vessel from Kalliza on this world. You will put me higher than any Zivold has ever been, and only then will you be allowed to die. I will do it myself.” He spat in his face again and pulled him to his feet by his hair.
“Let me DIE!” Hadr screamed as he was yanked up. His hands fumbled through his rags and they emerged gripping a small blackshine [obsidian] blade from his rags. He pulled his arms out and thrusted into his belly, but Barnam grabbed his arm like a vice, inches from death.
As he twisted the blade from Hadr’s hands, Barnam only repeated, “You do NOT die yet old man,” and threw him forward. He nodded to Gudenle, and the company walked away from the flames of the city center.
Flames swallowed Ibandr. For two days and two nights, Barnam, the Albayet, and the prisoner Hadr waited at Shahadr’s Point as they watched the city burn on the riverbank. Refugees fleeing from the burning and seeing where the conquerors had gone had come to be with them, either to curry favor or through sheer terror of seeing their home burning. Others stayed by the farms in the homes that survived or camped by the great reservoir.
When the fires abated, the survivors, the conquerors, and Hadr the prisoner walked into the city, faces of terror and horror and grief staring back at them. Some houses stood, others charred, and still others broken and brittle. Barnam had tried to stop the pillaging of the city but you have to be realistic about these things. He was Kalliza on earth. The city needed to be burned before it could be rebuilt.
When he arrived at the city center, the storehouse was a charred ruin and the temple behind it stood charred and blackened. The fires had raged and the once great city of Ibandr now stood charred but still proud. The Albayet went and corralled those who remained in the city center, and still others had come to the core now, refugees in their own lands, fleeing the fires that burned without remorse. Many had come to Barnam and the Albayet but others had stayed in the city, finding refuge in this or that district that survived the fires.
Barnam announced who he was, why he had come, and what the future held for Ibandr. “Belis was a fraud! Attarnap was a fraud!” He brought up Hadr. “A fraud held up by this man against the Paroxl, against our gods!” He walked to the ruins of the storehouse. “I am no fraud. I am Barnam, Kalliza reborn. Kutenr is nothing to the light of Kalliza and it is in his name which this city will be rebuilt.” In one year Barnam promised they would be returned to their former glory and poised to reach greater, grander heights than ever before.
The conqueror’s bloodthirst had been quenched. Knowing Attarnap was dead, killing his son, and laying waste to Ibandr had been revenge enough against those who wronged his father and those who stood by and done nothing.
Barnam the conqueror became Barnam the rebuilder. Over the year he convinced the Albayet to move west, abandoning the Duf river in a great migration to Ibandr, calling the union between the Hortens of Ibandr and the Hortens of the Albayet the Hemoph Hortens, or Union of the Hortens. He replaced the storehouse with one of similar grandeur, but on the side walls and pillars were carved intricate images and forms of Barnam as Kalliza, striking down Belis of Kutenr. The Temple to Kutenr was stripped bare and its walls adorned with images of Ibandr, or stories of the Paroxl, and above all of Barnam the Magnanimous, images carved to tell his story and his journey from refugee to god.
At the year’s end, Barnam held the Festival of Kalliza. It was here that he brought out the imprisoned Hadr, old and shriveled and frail. He had not been kept in a prison or in solitude or tortured. Barnam let the man walk free under supervision. “Let those who died by his hand torment him,” Barnam once said. They had forbidden him from holding weapons of any kind lest he take his own life, but the sight of the free Sinnamit, free by the mercy of Barnam the conqueror alone, did much to grow the new Zivold’s legend.
Hadr announced Barnam as a god reborn, lord of the new world and Zivold of Ibandr, son of a man and woman wronged and champion to all those that had been wronged. Never mind that Barnam had created so many wrongs when he burned the city. No, never mind all who died for one man’s vengeance. You have to be realistic about these things.
At the height of the ceremony came Barnam’s final act for the new city. As Hadr finished proclaiming him god of a new dawn on the Luzum, Barnam repeated all of Hadr’s transgressions. His slights against his father, against his city, against the gods. His cowardice and failures as Sinnamit. Barnam called Hadr a necessary sacrifice to give for the life of Ibandr, and slit the old man’s throat on the steps of the new temple, bringing all of the Sinnamit’s powers into his own.
Ibandr rose back to its prominence prior to the Albayet Sacking, and rose further still. Barnam learned of the projects built by Attarnap, of how Ibandr had risen from its people and its lands and by harnessing the power of the river Luzum to control the fate of their crops. To defend against the dry seasons and the wet. Ibandr was rebuilt and Barnam ensured that it was he who was credited. He played his factions of the loyal Albayet families and those who felt were allies within the city, against those who wished him to be gone. Barnam kept ownership of the grain but for other goods he allowed families to hold their own. His reign was tenuous in reality but the image of Barnam as greater than he was, as a god among mortals, a step in a new direction, the rosy fingers of the coming dawn, cemented any fears against his hold and guaranteed he would not often be tested.
Barnam had three daughters and two sons with his wife, married from the time he was with the Albayet, and when he died his son, Askalladr, was appointed the Zivold by the strong families, the Illir as they were coming to be known. The Zivold was now the strongman of the city, emblematic of the gods on earth, priest-king, god-king, father-king, all were encompassed by the great and powerful Zivold.
Attarnap and Belis were nothing. They were glorified tribesmen who hoarded wealth. Barnam was something else, a ray of heaven on the ground. Askalladr’s ascension was only further proof that now, indeed, there was a new Dawn on the Luzum.
Context: Was a lot of fun writing all this. This last piece may not be as strong for evidence of statehood but in connection with the other r rp posts I hope this is enough to establish season 5’s first true city state! There’s a lot more to develop in the next week but hopefully this is solid enough ground for Ibandr to gain prominence on a larger stage. I will definitely be sticking to shorter pieces in the future lol
submitted by SilvoKanuni to DawnPowers [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 05:31 Taxi_Dancer ***excerpt*** TALES OF THE DEAD IN SPACE UNIVERSE: THE MARCHING DEAD CORPS ***excerpt*** (The first part of the follow up to the Dead In Space Series)

*** excerpt***
TALES OF THE DEAD IN SPACE UNIVERSE:
THE MARCHING DEAD CORPS
The Terran Space Marines...
They are, hands down, the most elite fighting force that has ever been sent into space to protect, defend, and conquer in the name of mankind. Highly trained in surface, subsurface, and space combat, they are almost unbeatable in a fight. In the nearly two-hundred and forty years of the existence of the Terran Space Marines, there is a near zero record of them ever being defeated in incursions, rebellions, insurrections, wars, and even encounters with hostile extraterrestrial entities.
They are, hands down, the best equipped of all branches of the Terran armed forces, each Terran Space Marine packing the most advanced arms, armor, and equipment that the intergalactic military defense industry can supply. Employed only for the toughest missions, the Terran Space Marines are only called upon when the Terran government needs the very best, most elite fighting force in the galaxy, to accomplish the most impossible jobs. Their exploits have been legendary, from a regiment of Space Marines recapturing Norfolk Orbital Station from a plague which turned the quarter million inhabitants into crazed demonic horrors, to a platoon of Space Marines who killed a literal giant skeletal death god on a planet named Willow’s World.
The elite Space Marines are the few, they are the proud, and they are the exact opposite of the person who I am. I am definitely not Space Marine material. Hell, I’m not even Terran Space Regular Army material. Naturally, there are more regular Army Joes than there are elite Space Marines, the Army being easily ten times the size as the Space Marines.
I’m a trooper in the most non-elite, non-glamorous, and most expendable of all the branches. I’m part of the FODERR (fodder), or the Federal Optional Deployment Enlisted Reserve Regiments, and ‘yes’, we are all painfully aware that we are literally ‘fodder’ both in name and in mission. Probably the only thing that the FODERR has going for it is that we are the largest branch of the Terran military, far larger than even the Army. To give you an idea of how numerically massive our numbers are, for every one Space Marine there are about ten regular Army GI Joes. And for every one regular Army soldier, there are about fifteen to twenty of us reservist troopers. Our numbers need to be far greater than the other branches of the service due to the genus doctrine which our genus political masters came up with which states that if the enemy has twenty high impact rounds for their weapon, we will send twenty-one reserve troopers to take the enemy down. Such is the gallows humor which the average trooper such as myself has grown used to. The fact is, the only thing that outnumbers us on the battlefield are usually the enemy and the number of rubber body bags which the Terran government sends with us.
Artillery prep? Never heard of it. Flanking maneuvers? Don’t make me laugh. Armor support? Sure, if you’re the enemy. Not for us, though. In the FODERR, we have just one combat doctrine which is, ‘Hey, diddle-diddle, straight up the middle.’ Have you ever seen a full on FODRR frontal assault? It’s pretty impressive for the first few minutes. After that, however, it usually turns into a slaughter. That’s why the FODERR Corps are known throughout the galaxy simply as The Marching Dead.
Okay, okay, okay... maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit about us not having artillery and armor support. After about a month of basic infantry training, those of us basic trainees who have shown the aptitude for it, basically those of us who can’t find their asses with both hands, are sent to artillery and armor school. And those few of us with the ability to find their asses with just one hand may even be selected to go to aerospace flight school as a gunship pilot. For the rest of us, however, after basic infantry training we were sent to advanced infantry training for an additional three weeks where we were taught to operate mortars, anti-armor and anti-aircraft weapons, correctly breaking those heavy weapons down, putting those heavy weapons on our backs, then marching that heavy shit from one end of the galaxy to the other.
Oh, and by the way, don’t think you are going to get out of the Marching Dead Corps by simply falling out of the training. Once you sign the contract to be in the Corps, you are in until your three years is up or until you become the creamy filled center of a rubber body bag. If you fall out of training, all you end up doing is earning a front row seat to the spearhead of the assault, and that tends to be detrimental to your 25% chance of surviving to the end of your three year contract.
So, you might ask, why would otherwise mentally stable young people sign on to become a FODERR Trooper? Well, to tell you the truth, most of us didn’t. Most of those who signed the contract, the ‘Federal Option’ of the Federal Optional Deployment Enlisted Reserve Regiment, are convicted criminals who are facing long jail sentences. And in this day and age, criminal offenses such as saying or thinking something which might be a threat to the Party is enough to land you a date in court standing in front of a judge and a recruitment officer with a Federal Option military contract in hand.
For me, I was working at the main city library as a lowly librarian assistant, trying to scratch out a living while also trying to pay my way through college indoctrination. Our local Party officials voted themselves a 40% annual raise so, naturally, the loyal citizens’ taxes increased. I had been saving to pay my loyal citizen tax from last year when the Party officials voted themselves a raise, and finally had enough to pay. I took a day off to drive to the Department of Taxation, a twelve story complex that took up a full three city blocks downtown. Parking was scarce, so I had to drive around the block for almost an hour before I landed a parking space. After waiting for another three hours, I finally paid the taxes that I owed which, I found out, went directly into a fund that paid for the annual vacation of the Party City Council to the tropical paradise of the Vega X System.
As I returned to my car, I was greeted by an enforcement officer writing me ticket for a parking violation. It seems that the back bumper of my old lemon-mobile extended 2.2 centimeters into the parking space behind me, meaning that I was obligated to pay for two parking spaces instead of one. I was charged on the spot for attempting to defraud the local party government and, two hours later, I was hauled to the twenty-two story tall Department of Justice building across the street which took up six city blocks and, after a thirty minute wait, was standing in front of a judge. I was faced with multiple criminal charges including illegally occupying more than my fair share of public spaces, attempting to defraud local party government, disrespect of party mandates, illegal storage of a personal vehicle on public property, and because of my race, I was also charged with sympathizing with white supremacy.
Unfortunately, because I had just paid my yearly tax increases, I did not have the money to pay for these additional penalties and fees, which added the additional charge against me of illegally not having enough money in my bank account to pay for additional government mandated taxes, penalties, and fees, the recommended amount being at least 45% of your total bank account.
The judge sentenced me to sixty-five years of hard labor on a mining asteroid in orbit around Saturn or, if I so chose, I could take the three year Federal Option. As my car was being impounded, I signed the contract placed in front of me by a military recruiting officer who told me that the storage fees for my piece of shit vehicle will be taken from my first year of federal service. Along with about another five hundred people between the ages of 18 to 40 who became instant convicted criminals that afternoon, I was led to the west wing of the Department of Justice building where we waited for three more days, sleeping on cots without blankets in large, freezing, open bays, subsisting on toast and potato soup twice a day while under constant armed guard. There were no separate spaces for males, females, and those who identified as part of the LGBTQXRWYVF779+++ community. Fights were rarely broken up by the guards, but the three dozen or so people who tried to escape were quickly rounded up and handcuffed to braces on the walls for their entire stay, not being released even when it was feeding time or if they had to relieve themselves in the filthy restrooms which could barely service one hundred people. After three days, the two thousand people who were there before us were taken away and finally it was our turn to board the cattle trucks which would take us directly to our FODERR infantry basic training sites.
Since the Terran government declared a war on terrorism against the Alpha Centauri Colonies, over seventy FODERR infantry basic training camps were opened throughout the country, mostly abandoned or underused military bases which had been reopened and expanded, together adding nearly a quarter million troopers annually to send into the wars in space beside the regular Army and the Space Marines.
So, almost exactly two months after I was declared a hardened parking violation criminal, I found myself stuffed into a rusty space freighter along with two hundred other troopers on our way to war in the Alpha Centauri system...
submitted by Taxi_Dancer to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 05:26 chapoisme Is this offer too good to turn down? (I could probably negotiate more too)

Is this offer too good to turn down? (I could probably negotiate more too) submitted by chapoisme to footballmanagergames [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 05:23 dudestduder Skraper CatOS Mix

Skraper CatOS Mix
If anyone else is using Skraper for your media, it is a very convenient method of gathering your media. Unfortunately it felt like using Image magick afterwards always felt pretty redundant since you can have it output exactly the size we already need. No one had made any decent Skraper mix so far, and I got tired of waiting for someone else to do it.
CatOS Mix is the gist page where you can check it out. Or here is a direct link you RIGHT CLICK TO SAVE
You can see the Wheel and Screenshot image beside the text
Its a simple Wheel art above the Screenshot, and generally fits most media, and the two images scale from around 40% upward and down so you end up with pretty decent results even when the images get tall.
So take some of the extra processing out of your media management by using this mix! This would even work on a stock setup with a little adjustment to make the text center on the left. Let me know if you like the mix, and I am always open to suggestions for improvement!
Just make sure you edit the folder it outputs to so that it looks like:
%ROMROOTFOLDER%\Imgs
Also, for anyone who wants to ensure english title wheels adjust your region priority in miscellaneous to: us,eu,wor,jp,ss
Also, delete the path in Game List options, so it will not output any gamelist files which you will need to delete later.
submitted by dudestduder to RG35XX [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 04:45 Gameran Dexter Flux Presents: Sound-Off! - Part One

Previously unannounced press conference, May 31, 2023.

Cameras are rolling as the owner of Mann Corporation, Shay D. Mann, hair in a perfectly put-together part, adorned in a navy suit and white tie, steps forward to a podium, in front of a WiR backdrop, microphone in hand.
Mann: My name is Shay Duncan Mann. And I am the new owner and proprietor of Wrestling is Reddit. I can assure you that your beloved Allen Paisner will be returning in the future, however, he could not make tonight's show due to some…
Mann smirks.
Mann: Legal complications. But fear not, I’ll be taking his place in the booth tonight.
The crowd erupts with applause and cheers, eager to witness the rebirth of their beloved wrestling promotion, even without Paisner for the evening.
Mann: Tonight, we embark on an exhilarating journey, as WiR takes a bold leap forward. I stand before you not just as the owner, but as a “fan”—a fan who understands the passion and dedication that this community shares for the world of wrestling.
Mann tries to hide a grimace as he proclaims his “fandom”. The crowd anticipates Mann’s next move
Mann: For too long, WiR has been dormant, unable to proceed, some of the talent trapped in Europe with no way home. But this, is no more! Today, we resurrect the spirit of WiR, bringing it back to life with a bang! And what better way to open things up by “Sounding Off"! Presented by the one and only, Dexter Flux
The crowd gives an actual cheer with genuine enthusiasm at the mention of Flux, their sort of god-king.
Mann: "Sound Off" isn't just a name; it's a rallying cry! It's a call for all of you, the WiR faithful, to voice your opinions, to express your passion, and to join us in this incredible journey. This event will be a celebration of everything that makes WiR special—the wrestling, the community, and the shared experiences that bring us all together.
The press conference crowd, whose papering becomes increasingly obvious the more Mann talks, is enthusiastic, as they eagerly hang onto Shay D. Mann's every word, perhaps a little too eagerly.
Mann: Tonight, in this very ring, our talented roster will ignite your imagination, deliver jaw-dropping performances, and create moments that will be etched in your memories forever. Sound Off! will leave you on the edge of your seats, craving for more.
The crowd roars with the excitement of a hair dryer pop.
Mann: But this is not just a show; it's a community. Together, we'll embrace the highs and lows, the victories and defeats. We'll share our opinions, engage in spirited debates, and build something truly remarkable. WiR is your platform—your voice will be heard!
The crowd erupts once again, their cheers echoing through the arena, showcasing their dedication to WiR, or getting paid to be there
Mann: So, my friends, get ready to immerse yourselves in the magic of WiR once again. Open your hearts, open your minds, and let the exhilaration of "Sound Off" wash over you! Tonight, we begin a new era—one that will redefine the landscape of this sport. Welcome back to WiR, my friends. Because Wrestling… is Revived.
With a sly smile, Shay D. Mann raises his microphone high, signaling the start of the show, as things fade to a video of Dexter Flux. His face is slightly out of frame as the camera points to his chest and chin.
Crowd: YEEEEAAAHHHHHH WE LOVE FLUX! WE LOVE FLUX!
Flux: Hey, it’s me, Dexter Flux. Welcome, uh, welcome you know, back to wrestl- Ugh, sorry, something was like, in my throat. Wrestling is Reddit. Welcome back to Wrestling is Reddit. This is House Party.

Knott's Berry Farm, June 1st, 2023.

With that rousing introduction, we now cut back to the day of, with a drone shot of the ring set up at Knott’s Berry Farm, fans on makeshift stands in the berry field, a parking lot and farmhouse off in the far distance, before [off brand royalty free music] begins to play!
Crowd: YEEEAAHHHH
Through the makeshift curtain, Tony “The Milkman” Stevens appears, wearing a pair of off-blue tights with cow white print, a single blue elbow pad on the left side, with a pair of gloved hands- in which, he holds a pristine white umbrella. The Milkman points his umbrella right down the lens of the camera…
Milkman: Good to be back, fellas, and good to see you, Mr. Cameraman! Been a while.
Mann: And here comes the Milkman, and a huge ovation from this crowd! But no Horde jacket with him!
Woodbridge: Or any jacket. But we’re in Anaheim, its hot out
Mann You’re right. But he did prepare for rain.
The Milkman hands off his umbrella to a fan at ringside, before sliding under the bottom rope, and ascending the left hard camera turnbuckle, firing up the crowd, before doing a backflip off the top rope, and into the ring!
Crowd: YEEAAAAHHHHHH
The Camera cuts back to the entranceway, as the music changes, to Skillet
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOO
Jericho Styles appears on the ramp, adorned in an Allen Iverson Nuggets Jersey. He blows off a fan’s high five attempt, before sliding into the ring and taking a position opposite of Stevens.
Babaganoush: WiR fans… welcome to Anaheim California, the beautiful Knotts Berry Farm! Welcome! To Sound Off! Presented by Dexter Flux.
Crowd: W-I-R! W-I-R! W-I-R! W-I-R!
Banaganoush: Our opening contest is scheduled for one fall to a finish. Introducing first, to my right… wrestling out San Jose California, weighing in at 217 pounds, Jericho… Styles!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOO
Babaganoush: And his opponent, to my left. Weighing in at 208 pounds…
Crowd begins to rise
Babaganoush: Wrestling out of… Brooklyn, New York! Tony… “The Milkmaaannnnnnn” Stevens!
Crowd erupts into indiscriminate cheers
DING DING DING
The Milkman and Styles circle each other as the bell rings, before Styles takes the initiative with a lock up attempt, which he quickly transitions to a rear waist lock. Milkman thinks on his feet, and grabs the arm of Styles lifting it above his head, and turning to break the lock, before using it to get behind Jericho, who uses his size advantage to overpower Stevens and apply a hammerlock, using the position to turn Stevens around, and take him down to the mat with an arm drag, maintaining control of the arm, which he quickly leverages into a pinfall…
ONE
Milkman gets his free shoulder up!
Crowd: Yay!
Woodbridge: JZ leveraging some technical skill here in the opening moments of this one, but can’t keep the Milkman down!
Mann: Only one count for Styles
Styles refuses to relinquish his grip on the arm, and as Stevens gets up, pushes him back into the corner before he can balance himself. Styles whips Stevens across the ring to the other corner, before charging in and being met with Milkman’s knee! Stevens capitalizes on his newly made opening by delivering a sharp kick to the chest of Styles, before whipping him against the ropes. Styles charges back, and tries to use his momentum to catch Stevens with a hip toss, but can only get Stevens a few inches of height off the ground before the Milkman lands on his feet, lifts and Styles up for an atomic drop, which forces him to let go of Stevens. With his arm now free, The Milkman plants himself, and delivers a [devastating lariat]. With what self-preservation he has left, Styles rolls to the outside, and onto the grass.
Woodbridge: And The Milkman just leveled Styles with that lariat!
Mann: Not something we’re quite used to seeing from Stevens, some hard strikes early in this one that really seemed to throw Styles off his game.
Styles pulls himself up by the barricade, to the direct ire of front-row fans who continue to heckle him. Back in the ring, Stevens throws himself off the far-end ropes, charges in for a dive… before Styles ducks down to avoid being hit. Stevens doesn’t change speed, and instead, throws himself between the ropes for a 6-1-9 that hits nothing but air, launching himself back into the ring, and landing on his feet. After this feat of dexterity, and with Styles on the ground outside, The Milkman takes a bow for his efforts.
Crowd: YEEEAAHHH!!
Four dues in front of the hard cam: WE LOVE MILK! WE LOVE MILK!
At a count of eight, Styles, returns to the ring, and the two wrestlers square off again. Styles gets the better of the two on the lockup, delivering a stomp to Stevens’ foot, before kneeling him in the stomach. Styles lifts Stevens up for a suplex, but Stevens shifts his weight and lands on his feet behind him! The Milkman attempts a German suplex, but Styles throws a firm elbow to the jaw and repositions behind Stevens for a German attempt of his own. Stevens gives Styles a receipt with a firm, calcium-hardened elbow of his own, before bounding over to the ropes, and attempting a lionsault to a standing Styles! Styles catches him, but Stevens slips free, pushes Styles into the corner, and he takes a chest-first bump. Stevens harnesses his agility once more to get into poison-rana position on the shoulders of Styles, but Styles uses one arm to flip Milkman off balance and send him tumbling to the ground. Quickly, Stevens attempts to transition to a sunset flip but has to abandon ship as Styles tries to poke him in the eyes, jamming his finger into the canvas as a result. Stevens uses the moment to leap up to Bret’s rope, turn around, and deliver a dropkick to Styles! Stevens then rolls to the apron, and pumps up the crowd with a wave of his hand…
Crowd: YEEEAAAHHH WOOO!!
Guy already 4 cheap beers in: I hate this Styles guy!
…and delivers another springboard dropkick, this one from the top rope! Stevens flexes for the crowd, before rolling into a cover…
ONE
TWO
Styles gets a shoulder up!
Mann: Does The Milkman seem a bit different to you, Woodbridge?
Woodbridge: Milkman definitely wants to show off early, he looks like he hasn’t lost a step!
Mann: Maybe even gained one, and it almost feels like he’s being a bit disrespectful of his opponent, don’t you think?
Woodbridge: And what are you insinuating?
Mann: Well, maybe performing in front of a WiR crowd again has him a little more amped than usual! Trying a lot of those high-risk maneuvers early- we’re only a few minutes into this one, folks!
After the Kickout, Stevens signals to the cheering crowd, runs off the ropes, and attempts a wheelbarrow bulldog, but as he pushes himself up, Styles swivels his hips, and Stevens face plants into the mat.
Mann: And Stevens’ showing off cost him there!
Styles knees Stevens in the stomach, before putting his head between the legs, and sets up for the Styles Clash! He can’t lock in Milkman’s arms, and Stevens uses them to push off the mat to sit up above Jericho! Stevens tries throwing a punch at Jericho’s head, but he pivots his plan, and adjusts to deliver a powerbomb! As he releases, Stevens adjusts his body and manages to mitigate some of the damage by landing awkwardly on the back foot, stumbling back into the ropes.
Mann: If Styles hit that, it could have spelled an early end for Stevens!
Stevens pulls himself back to his feet using the ropes and charges back in with a clothesline attempt, but Styles sees it coming, grabs the arm and uses it to shift the momentum, and lifts Stevens for a tilt-a-whirl Backbreaker!
Crowd: BOOOOOO
Mann: And Styles seems to be in control here.
Woodbridge: Stevens took some early momentum, but Styles has had a counter for everything Stevens has thrown at him.
Styles pulls Stevens up to his feet by the hair, before casually flipping one of Stevens’ arms over his shoulder for a uranage position before holding his arms out to the crowd!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOO
Styles smirks at the boos incoming, and throws Stevens with a t-bone suplex. Once Stevens is planted, Styles stomps the stomach to force him to sit up, before stretching the arms behind for a surfboard stretch!
Styles: I’m a technical wrestler now, assholes!
Mann: Styles slowing things down here, grounding the Milkman
Woodbridge: Not a bad strategy, we saw how The Milkman was in control with a faster pace!
One guy holding up a sign with Goku: WE-LOVE-GOKU! WE-LOVE-GOKU!
Everyone else in the crowd is deafeningly silent
Styles: AND WHAT WOULD GOKU DO HERE, STUPID IDIOT?
Styles breaks his hold and approaches the hard camera ropes to yell at the fan more
Styles: Dragon Ball is overrated trash!
Styles kicks Stevens back to the mat
Styles That one was for you, fucking weeb!
As Stevens once again rises to his feet, Styles punches him and he falls back to the mat, just for Styles to pick him back up, and line up against the ropes, for an irish whip. As Stevens returns to sender, Styles throws him straight up in the air… and football punts him in the chest on the way down!
Styles: Hey weeb guy! This one’s for you too! I saw a Japanese dude do it once!
Styles lifts Stevens up, sets him up with the arms behind the back… and delivers a slow, sloppy [tiger driver], before placing a single foot on the chest, and flexing
ONE
TWO
Kickout!
Crowd: YEEEAAAHHHH
Woodbridge: Well, he didn’t quite get all of it.
Styles takes time to put Stevens in a Camel Clutch.
Mann: And it seems Styles didn’t want to get left out of showing off!
Woodbridge: Well, he certainly nailed Milkman with that kick, but the Tiger Driver left a lot to be desired.
Mann: Styles seems to have control of this match when it’s slowed down, wearing Stevens with this technical wrestling prowess.
Woodbridge, reaching under the desk for a paper bag: Everyone wants to be a hero in front of the first crowd in two years
Styles releases Stevens from the hold by battering him in the back of the head with a forearm, picking him up by the scruff, and bouncing him off the ropes for an Irish whip and hitting him with the kitchen sink! But Stevens wastes no motion, and grabs the leg, turning Styles over for a rollup!
ONE
TWO
THR-
Kickout!
Crowd: BOOOOOO
Woodbridge: He almost got him with that rollup! From out of nowhere!
The Milkman tries to capitalize, but Styles returns the favor with a boot to the stomach.
Styles: I’ll show you to make a damn fool out of me!
Styles hoists Stevens up for a vertical suplex, before taking two steps and chucking him across the top rope! The Milkman bounces off the top rope, makes a deflating noise as the air is forced out of his lungs, and flops down to the floor outside!
Mann: Styles with some kind of inverted lawn-dart maneuver! Woodbridge, do you know what that’s called?
Woodbridge: Nope.
Crowd: BOOOOOO
Styles: Come on, milk boy, you have anything else for me?
Stevens crawls back into the ring, holding onto his ribs, before Styles once again kicks him in the stomach, and applies a chin lock in the ring.
Mann: Styles has found his target! If Stevens can’t breathe, he can’t fight!
Woodbridge: The young Styles showing some veteran instinct here, Mann, if Stevens has the wind knocked out of him, he can’t perform those high-flying moves he was nailing Styles with earlier!
Styles turns to the side, and locks Milkman in a body scissors, using his legs to apply pressure to the ribcage. Stevens tries to use his free legs to push both men closer to the ropes, but can only move them a few feet. Stevens smacks the mat with his free hand, and a guy in the crowd does it to the barricade. Stevens smacks the mat again, and a few more fans join in.
Crowd Smacking the barricade
Stevens pushes towards the ropes again, making more progress. Styles sees this, and releases the hold, grabbing Stevens by the hair with one hand, tights in the other, and pulling him up to his feet.
Styles: You want the ropes so bad, here, have them!
Styles runs over to the ropes with the Milkman, and hurls him between the middle and top rope, dumping him to the outside where he lands with a noticeable thud. Styles follows him to the outside, taking his time to savor the boos of the crowd, before delivering a knee to a rising Milkman, and lifting him for a vertical suplex on the grass! Styles rolls into the ring… and back out again to break the count. Despite the present beating, Stevens once again pulls himself to his feet.
Crowd: YEAAAH
And Styles knees him in the ribs.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO
Styles rolls Stevens back into the ring before taking a moment to confront the drunk fan who jeered him earlier. After his verbal exchange, Styles delivers a scoop slam to Stevens to keep him down, and the pressure on the body, before sliding into a cover.
ONE
TWO
Kickout!
Mann: Forcing Stevens to exert more energy there on the kick out, after continuing his assault on the ribs. A very solid strategy by Styles in this one.
Styles picks The Milkman up once more and prepares another vertical suplex, but the Milkman slips free! Stevens lands behind Styles, hooks his arms, and goes for a crucifix pin!
ONE
TWO
THRE-
Styles barely escapes! The Milkman wastes no motion as Styles rises back to his feet, bouncing off the hard camera ropes, and forcing Styles to drop back to the mat to avoid a strike. Stevens bounces off the opposite end, and Styles barely avoids him once more, this time with a slide-step that sees him almost lose his balance. Styles tries to save his momentum by charging at Stevens as he bounces off the ropes a third time, but Stevens pulls down the top rope, sending Styles to the apron! Stevens kicks Styles in the knee, before going through the middle rope to meet Styles on the apron. Styles tries to sweep out the leg of the Milkman, knocking himself down to one knee on the attempt, but Stevens jumps over it, and catches Styles with a Calcium Kiss Superkick that sends Styles to the grass below!
Crowd: YEAAAHH
With his foe grounded, Stevens looks to the crowd, positions himself in the middle of the ring, and before Styles can discover where he is, Stevens takes flight, springboarding off the middle rope with an Asai Milksault! On the landing, Stevens’ left knee awkwardly hits the uneven yard, and he visibly grimaces before falling backward.
Mann: And both men are down after that! Stevens with a ferocious comeback attempt, but he may have hurt himself!
Woodbridge: Someone hasn’t been taking care of their lawn.
Stevens hears the air exit the crowd, and pulls himself up, giving them a reassuring thumbs up, before using the leg he landed on to kick Styles in the back of his knee, before throwing him back into the ring. Stevens puts one leg into the ring through the middle rope, before looking into the crowd- and deciding to ascend the turnbuckles instead! The Milkman leaps, and delivers a diving hurricanrana! As Styles tries to roll to the ropes, Stevens uses their good leg to stomp on his chest, before pulling him back to the middle of the ring, and hitting a Standing Milksault! Stevens maintains the cover!
ONE
TWO
THR-
Styles gets a shoulder up!
Woodbridge: And Stevens throwing everything into this assault on Styles, but it still wasn’t enough to put him down!
Crowd: Let’s Go Milk-man! Let’s Go Milk-man!
Stevens picks Styles up, and lifts him onto his shoulders…
Woodbridge: He’s going for the Milky Way!
…But the injured knee can’t hold up the weight, and both men crash to the mat.
Entrance Music begins to play as a small, skinny wrestler in a leather jacket waltzes towards the two downed competitors
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Mann: And that’s Raven Van Loupe! Van Loupe is here at Sound Off!
Woodbridge: These two formed an alliance last time we saw them! But will it hold after the time off?
Van Loupe enters the ring, despite the protests of WiR official Tai Ni Wong, and glances at the pair as both try to pull themselves up, Stevens using the ropes, Styles on his own. Van Loupe looks back and forth… before kicking Stevens in the injured knee!
DING DING DING
Babaganoush: And here is your winner…
Van Loupe helps Styles to his feet, and the pair begin to lay the boots on Stevens.
Babaganoush: By disqualification as a result of interference, and striking a WiR official…
Styles takes the knee of the downed Milkman, and lifts it above his head, before thrashing it against the canvas.
Babaganoush: At a time of…
Van Loupe has Styles lift Stevens by the hair once more, before she runs to the ropes, jumps off the second rope, and Styles pushes The Milkman into the cutter.
Babaganoush: Ten minutes and twenty-three seconds…
Styles and Van Loupe stand over Stevens, and Styles prepares to deliver the finishing blow as he signals to the crowd that he is looking for the Styles Clash!
Banaganoush: Tony “The Milkmannnnnn” Stevens!!!!!!
Van Loupe: Are you done?
Van Loupe gives Styles a thumbs up, but as he goes to finish off Stevens, a mighty howl plays over the speakers as a short, scruffy man runs to the ring.
Woodbridge: That’s The Werewolf!
Mann Johnny, A Werewolf, is here! And he’s rushing to the ring!
Styles lets Stevens flop back down to the mat, holding his knee, and turns to face the incoming Werewolf as he slides under the ropes and into the ring. Styles steps before Vna Loupe to intercept, but the fresh Werewolf knocks him off his feet with The Pounce. The Werewolf comes face to face with Van Loupe in the center of the ring!
Crowd: AWOOOOOO
Mann: Pandemonium has broken out in the first match of Sound Off! And the fans are loving it!
Crowd: WE LOVE WERE-WOLF! clap clap clap clap clap WE LOVE WERE-WOLF!
Woodbridge: The Pack Wolf and the Werewolf facing off in the center of the ring!
Mann: And these two have unfinished business! The Lifeblood exists because they took issue with being left behind for signings like Werewolf!
Johnny feints left, before throwing a right jab! The Werewolf unleashes Pack Tactics on Van Loupe! As he stops throwing punches, and signals for another pounce, Styles kips up, and levels the werewolf with a lariat!
Crowd: BOOOOO
Van Loupe and Styles begin to wear down the Werewolf, delivering blow after blow to Johnny as the boos rain from the crowd. Van Loupe delivers a stomp to the knee of The Milkman to keep him down before they and Jericho set up to finish off styles…
When an Italian Flag appears on the video screen, and an absolute guido of an Italian-American, hair dripping with greaseslowly walks out from behind the curtain, wearing a Shohei Ohtani jersey!
…A Shohei Ohtani… New York Mets jersey.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Mann: That’s The Apex! Arturo Stiglione! Stiglione is in the yard!
Stiglione slowly scopes out the scene on his way to the ring, seeing the downed Milkman on the left of the ring, the downed werewolf on the right, and the standing Lifeblood members in the middle. He slowly ascends the stairs and stands across from Van Loupe and Styles.
Wodbridge: And The Apex, not a fan of Johnny, a very terse relationship between these two.
Apex: Hell ova job ya done hea’
Van Loupe: If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stand aside, and maybe we won’t hurt you.
Apex: Dont’cha mind me, just monitoring the situation.
Styles pulls Van Loupe aside, and the two have an impromptu conference, before nodding along, and continuing their attack on Werewolf.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
With The Lifeblood’s backs turned Styles looks down at his fist. He looks down at the blue and orange he’s adorned in, and loosens up his arm. He points to the back of Styles, who senses the crowd rising, and turns around… to be met with a spinning backfist!!
Crowd: YEEEAAAHHHH
Mann: Styles has made his choice! And he chooses to stand against The Lifeblood!
Van Loupe hears his body hit the canvas, and turns around, to be met with the sight of a downed Styles! The Apex takes off his Mets jersey… to reveal an Angels jersey! The Werewolf is back on his feet, and he and the Apex come face to face! Van Loupe rises back up at the wrong time, as the two share a nod, and deliver a double clothesline! Seeing the situation turn against him, Styles slinks to the outside, and grabs a chair from under the ring, before sneaking back in behind the Werewolf and Apex, who have turned to the hard camera. Styles raises the chair to strike…
...And gets blasted by a Calcium Kiss from The Milkman!
Crowd: WOOOOOO
The three faces are all back on their feet in the middle of the ring, standing tall! As the three begin to celebrate…
“It’s a Psychobilly Freakout!
Mann: That’s the music of Mason Saunders! But where is he?
Saunders’ music plays, but the entranceway remains empty.
Woodbridge: He’s behind us, Mann! He just jumped the barricade!
Mann: But he’s outnumbered, Woodbridge, both his allies are down!
Undeterred by the numbers disadvantage, Saunders slides behind the faces, and as they recognize the trap, Saunders is already in the ring! The Werewolf approaches first and throws a jab that almost seems to bounce off the chin of Saunders. Saunders simply stares, and when the Werewolf tries a second one, Saunders swipes it aside with a tree trunk arm, before launching into action and dropping the Werewolf with a right hook, which catches the Werewolf cleanly on the jaw, who slumps backward onto the canvas. The Milkman tries to charge to his aid, but Saunders delivers a pump kick to put him back on the canvas. The Apex tries to make a move while Saunders’ back is turned facing Stevens, but he fails to do any damage and is swiftly thrown aside. Saunders drops the Milkman again, before turning around to face Apex… who turns around, and flees the ring as fast as possible!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Mann: And Stiglione, getting out of dodge as soon as he can!
Woodbridge: And turning tail and running, Stiglione is out of here!
As Stiglione flees up the entranceway, the rest of the Lifeblood begins to pick themselves up. Saunders puts the Werewolf pack down on the canvas with a scoop powerslam, and boots him out of the ring. The Lifeblood stand united, and face the hard camera, Stiglione and Werewolf removed, and the Milkman down on the opposite end of the ring. JZ ascends to the second rope of the left turnbuckle, Van Loupe to the right, and the three all pose for the hard camera!
Mann: And the Lifeblood, although not victorious in the match, is victorious here in the aftermath!
Woodbridge: But wait, The Milkman is trying to get back up!
Mann: Stevens of course, left for the picking, as other members of The Horde are all the way on the other side of the Farm preparing for their match later!
Stevens struggles to pull himself up to his feet, knee buckling under him. Saunders perks up, and stops his pose. Stevens staggers to his feet, and before he can get very far, Saunders turns, and with blinding speed nails Stevens with a disgusting lariat that nearly takes his head off!
Woodbridge: And the Milk has gone spoiled.
The Lifeblood circle the downed Milkman like vultures, and Van Loupe drops to one knee, and picks up the Milkman’s head by the hair! JZ gets down as well, and the two strike a pose, with Milkman’s body as the centerpiece!
Mann: A statement made, by the Lifeblood
Woodbridge: To me, Mann, it looks like the statement was made by Saunders, Van Loupe, and JZ just picked up the scraps!
Van Loupe, holding up Milkman to the Camera victoriously: Take a look, WiR, this is the future! We are the Lifeblood of this company, and don’t forget that!
The camera pans out to JZ and Van Loupe celebrating over Milkman’s body, while Saunders stares from behind, before fading out to a commercial break.
Javier: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, with a 20 minute time limit. Your referee for this contest is Mia So Hung. Introducing first, from Montreal, Canada, weighing in at 119 pounds...... GIGI♥ V!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
A significantly smaller but incredibly loud section of the crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Music begins to swell in the background, and the crowd continues their jeering (and occasional unbridled simping) until Gigi steps out, running her hands down her body to the lewd Ashnikko verse.
Mann: Gigi here, surrounded by her legion of fans, who are then surrounded by a legion of people who absolutely despise her. As it should be here in WiR.
Gigi saunters to the ring, taking vaguely suggestive selfies with her ravenous fans on the front row, and generally seeming uncaring about the forthcoming match.
Woodbridge: And given her successes recently, it’s gonna be easy to overlook a competitor like Li Xiao, which very easily could prove fatal.
Gigi steps into the ring, as Javier starts his announcing again.
Javier: And her opponent, from Hong Kong, weighing in at 105 pounds... LI XIAO!!!
A unfamiliar metal song blasts out from the speakers, and a rather familiar hyperactive martial artist bounces out from behind the curtain!
Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Xiao charges down the ramp with a head of steam, hyped and ready to fight.
Mann: Xiao has some of the most devastating offense in this company, and if she’s able to keep momentum, it could very well shatter Gigi’s plans of making a statement here!
Woodbridge: Yeah, sure, but Xiao’s a tag team specialist first and foremost. She comes in to deal damage and then gets out before she takes too much abuse.
Xiao hops into the ring, and the referee pats both competitors down, before gesturing for the bell.
DING DING DING
In an interesting turn of events, Gigi and Li Xiao start off with a collar-and-elbow tie up in the center of the ring. Gigi takes quick advantage of her height and weight advantage to gain leverage and force Li Xiao backwards into the ropes.
Mann: Gigi starting off with the basics here, knowing Li Xiao is nothing if not an incredibly explosive fighter.
Woodbridge: That’s right, Xiao wrestles like my grandpa used to make moonshine, god rest his soul!
Gigi sets herself, and when Xiao tries to push off the ropes and get Gigi off, Gigi directs the momentum into a modified biel, throwing Li Xiao across the ring! Gigi takes a moment to smirk and pose for the fans - a mistake, as Xiao rolls through the throw and hits the ropes on the opposite side of the ring!
Mann: Incredible strength from Gigi!
Gigi turns around into a sprinting palm strike from Xiao, staggering backwards into the ropes yet again, and Xiao follows up with a big kick to the gut! Gigi’s doubled over, and Xiao drops her with a DDT!
Woodbridge: Xiao’s fired up, and she’s quite possibly looking to end this match before it even gets started!
Xiao with the cover!
1!
2!
Gigi kicks out right at 2, and rolls up, obviously shocked and dazed. The crowd in attendance is split, with the wrestling fans excited to see Gigi on the ropes, and the Gigi fans absolutely in shambles. Xiao is up quickly, as Gigi staggers to her feet - Xiao hits the ropes, springboards, and catches Gigi with a beautiful headscissors!
Crowd: WOOOOOO!
Gigi rolls through, runs the ropes, and comes back with a head of steam! Xiao dodges a clothesline attempt, shoves Gigi to the other rope, and gets ready for the comeback - Gigi catches the ropes! Xiao charges in to press the advantage, and eats an officially branded Gigi♥ boot to the face! Xiao is absolutely rocked, staggering backwards, and this time Gigi takes the initiative and absolutely levels Xiao with a clothesline! Xiao spirals to the mat, and Gigi blows a kiss to the fans in attendance!
Gigi: I am your future champion, and this is the match I’m booked in?
Gigi catches Xiao with a boot to the back of the head! Xiao rolls over, and Gigi drops a knee onto her throat, before going for the cover!
1!
2!
Xiao muscles out of the pin, clutching her head!
Woodbridge: We got two high fliers here, these women make a livin’ out of dodging attacks. Anything that lands here is going to be devastating!
Mann: And right now, it looks like Xiao is barely conscious after those blows to the head!
Gigi gets up, and winks at her fans in attendance and watching live throughout the world.
Crowd: BOOOOOO!/YAAAAAAAAAAY!
Gigi saunters over to Xiao, and plays up the boot she’s about to give - SMALL PACKAGE! SMALL PACKAGE!
1!
2!
Gigi kicks out, and her mood instantly changes. Xiao is staggering to her feet, and takes a full on slap to the face!
Crowd: OOOOOOOOOH!
Mann: What a slap from Gigi, obviously assisted by her official Gigi♥ gloves, sponsored by Fairtex!
Woodbridge: Gigi’s pissed now, and you could hear that slap all the way in Los Angeles!
Xiao clutches her face, and Gigi follows up with a huge kick to the gut! Xiao falls to one knee, and Gigi finishes the trifecta with a roundhouse to the head!
Crowd: OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!
Xiao collapses to the mat!
Mann: And Xiao’s down! What a kick!
Woodbridge: That kick nearly took her head off, Shay! I don’t know if she’s even conscious down there!
Gigi’s prepared, and is looking to finish this, climbing to the top rope! Xiao is flat on her back on the mat, and Gigi takes the leap, flipping forwards with a swanton! Xiao is still conscious, though, and rolls away in the nick of time, leaving Gigi high and dry!
Crowd: YAAAAAAY! KUNG PAO! KUNG PAO! KUNG PAO!
Mann: I... feel like that’s problematic, somehow.
Woodbridge: Nah, ‘sfine, don’t worry about it.
Xiao grabs for the ropes, pulling herself to her feet, but is obviously still dazed from the kick!
Woodbridge: Xiao’s hurt!
Mann: You see this a lot in Li Xiao singles matches - she’s got an incredible offense, but she’s fragile at best in-ring!
Gigi is holding her back, and glares at Xiao in frustration!
Gigi: You were supposed to stay down! it was going on Tiktok!
Gigi charges forward, ready to avenge her mistake, but takes a knee to the gut! Gigi staggers for a second, only to get a chop to the neck! She’s reeling! Xiao with a forearm! Xiao with a elbow strike!
Crowd: OHHHHHHHHHH!
Xiao takes a step backwards, and lets out a KIAI, before charging forward with a roundhouse - NO! SCHOOLBOY FROM GIGI!
1!
2!
Xiao kicks out at 2.6, rolls to her feet, and is immediately back on the offensive, catching Gigi with a kick to the gut!
Mann: Xiao was going for her trademark flurry of blows, and that roundhouse could very well have ended this match!
Woodbridge: Sure, but it doesn’t look like Gigi’s in a better spot right now anyway!
Xiao measures, as Gigi slowly gets back to her feet, and steps through the ropes, stalking her opponent! Gigi’s up, and Xiao leaps onto the ropes, going for a springboard - GIGI HOOKS HER LEG!
Crowd: BOOOOO!
Xiao loses her footing, and falls neck-first onto the ropes, before collapsing to the outside of the ring!
Mann: Gigi with a lightning-quick reversal!
Woodbridge: Xiao might be seriously hurt down there!
Gigi regains some of her confidence, and gives the crowd an innocent smile, completely ignoring the competitor she might have seriously injured. As the count reaches six, Gigi finally springs into action, rolling out of the ring, and grabbing Xiao by the hair!
Gigi: That’s what you get for ruining my moment!
Gigi pulls Xiao up to her feet, and throws her into the ring. Gigi rolls in as Xiao fights to one knee, then to her feet! Gigi smirks, and stands in front of Xiao, posing for the crowd -
WHAM!
Xiao with a JKD backfist!
Woodbridge: River City Knockout! That’s Biff’s move! What a moment to strike!
Gigi is staggered - falls to one knee - then gets back up, just in time to eat THE CRANE KICK
Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Woodbridge: CRANE KICK! CRANE KICK!
Gigi is down! Xiao is staggering after landing the crane kick, and collapses to a knee herself! Xiao takes a moment to collect herself, then throws herself into the cover, hooking both legs!
1!
2!
3!
NO!
Mia hits the three count, and Xiao rolls off, sure she’s won the match, but Gigi’s right hand is on the ropes!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Mia explains to Xiao, who is obviously frustrated, but nods. She takes a moment to kick Gigi’s wrist, knocking her hand off the ropes, before climbing to the top rope! Xiao steels herself - leaps - corkscrews through the air!
Woodbridge: Xiao’s Wing!
Gigi gets her knees up! Xiao lands back-first onto Gigi’s knees! Xiao bounces halfway across the ring, clutching her back and neck, and lands on her chest!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Mann: And Gigi has just enough in the tank to get that counter in!
Gigi, with what seems like massive effort, rolls over, before crawling towards Xiao, who seems to be completely out of it. She crawls over Xiao, with a knowing smirk, before hooking her legs around Xiao’s head!
Mann: Gigi looking for the Paywall, this modified figure four choke!
Woodbridge: And half the audience is looking at something else right now.
Gigi torques Xiao’s already injured neck back, cutting off all airflow! Xiao struggles for a moment, but is trapped in the center of the ring! She crawls forward, but Gigi leans back, torquing her neck even further! Xiao swings back with an elbow, then another, but her arm is caught by Gigi’s free hand! After a moment of struggling, Xiao finally relents, and taps in the center of the ring!
DING DING DING!
Javier: And your winner, at a time of 7:53.... GIGI!
Gigi rolls out of the ring, obviously the worse for wear, clutching her neck after the crane kick to the skull!
Mann: And Gigi with a hard-fought win after these two threw everything at each other in a absolutely brutal short match!
Woodbridge: Xiao’s not a singles competitor on her own, but she showed just how brutal her brand of offense is when it needs to be - if Biff has the same resilience he used to have the tag division might need to be on notice!
submitted by Gameran to wrestlingisreddit [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 04:31 Ladi2727 How to co-parent with ex who won’t parent

How to deal with a co-parent who basically won’t parent
So, been divorced from my ex for almost a year. Our marriage dissolved after my ex had 3 emotional affairs which lead to her cheating during the last one. I then kicked her out and started the divorce proceedings. We were together for 13 years, married for 5. We have a 5 year old son who we have joint custody of and recently began equal parenting time in February after my ex found a new job. Before that I was the primary parent, having our son 5-6 days out of the week.
Despite everything she put me through I tried hard to establish a positive relationship with her, for the sake of our son. At most I’ve tried to establish a friendship with her, at the very least I’ve tried to establish civil co-parenting relationship. The problem is that my ex has emotional issues and usually things are fine between us when she’s single but when she in a relationship, she changes and decides she doesn’t want a relationship with me any more. She gets very selfish and self centered and our son takes a back seat to whatever relationship she’s in ( she’s attempted 4 relationships in the less then 2 years we’ve been separated/divorced). She puts her new relationship first and stops showing up for our son (baseball games, parent teacher conferences, signing him up for school, etc). She also starts giving me a hard time about things I sign him up for because she’s on the hook for half the cost. She has no interest in any of it and if I didn’t sign him up for things, he wouldn’t do anything.
It recently came to a head which involved her new “soulmate” she’s been dating for 4-5 months. Her soulmate is an RBT, who works with autistic children and she is convinced is a “child whisper”. My ex wants us to parent our son on her soulmates advice, which is a sore spot for me. I’ve told her numerous times that I had no issues with her taking advice but that I didn’t care or ask to hear it. I admit I’ve been losing my patience with her and have been calling her out on her shortcomings as a parent. This has cause a rift between us, where now she won’t even acknowledge my texts to her about our son. This concerns me because I don’t want our relationship to have a negative effect on our son but I don’t want to tolerate her disrespect and selfishness either. We have never been equal when it comes to parenting and even though I know I can’t control her, I still wish she would at least meet me halfway. It’s getting me depressed and worried.
Should I even be worried? Any advice on how to deal with her lack of acknowledgement or what I can possibly do to make things better between us? TIA
submitted by Ladi2727 to Divorce [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 03:54 Dashiell-Incredible See tall ship Providence pass through Wilson bridge tonight @ 11:30

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cs9mfGCu-v5/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
submitted by Dashiell-Incredible to nova [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 03:47 FirelordDerpy Zygerrian King launches Anti-Slavery raid!

"We're going to land, Kriff'm up, then everyone who survives gets a steak banquet with me!" A thin-faced Zygerrian announces with a smile to the Camera
"EVIC News. Hunters are Hunted, Reports by Ostrosim Vonsky" Bold text on the screen
"We're currently in space above the planet Aldivy, we just departed in this transport from another vessel, I'm not allowed to say what vessel, but it was acting as a command center, we're now in a Zygerrian YV-865, now this is because as far as the target knows we're carrying a load of slaves, that's because as you saw in the last report, we captured it." A middle-aged Pantoran states to camera as the interior lighting flickers and a crowd of heavily armed Zygerrians check their equipment.
"King Local, what's your plan?"
"We're going to land, Kriff'm up, then everyone who survives gets a steak banquet with me!" A thin-faced Zygerrian announces to the Camera with a grin. "You just keep yourself out of the firing line reporter."
The Camera shifts and a voice-over starts
"As we approached the King gathered the men."
"The galaxy sees Zygerrians as nothing more than vile slavers! Your children are rejected from core world education, bullied by the media, and reviled by society, because of the actions of those we are on our way to kill! Strike them down with the same mercy they would treat you, the only people we're leaving with are their captives!""AH! AH! AH! AH!" The soldiers chant stamping their feet rhythmically.
"After a moment, the light turned green and the door shot open," The Camera shakes as the door opens and the soldiers immediately open fire on shocked Zygerrian slavers, catching them off guard and cutting them down, the soldiers rapidly advance towards the building complex as an additional YV-865 remains in the air, its ramp opening to drop soldiers onto the roof of the building. "As I approached the building I saw the medics rushing to the first slavers that got cut down." The camera shows the medics run over. "I thought they were going to help, but, they weren't." The wounded guards are censored as the medics pull out whips.
"As I entered the complex I could mostly hear the fighting, my escort didn't let me get too close but the carnage was visible." Corpses are blurred as he enters a rough stone hallway, "About halfway through we encountered the first slaves, they were being escorted out by a wounded Zygerrian" A young and obviously in pain, Zygerrian leads a group of Bothans past as the reporter pushes further into the complex. "Then more and more, they'd been using this base as a hub for slaves for some time, eventually I made it to the command room. Unfortunately, there were some slavers who surrendered, but as the king said, the only people they were left with were the freed slaves."
The camera centered on the king, notably covered in blood. "We already know who the other links in the chain are, and this is their fate, unless they surrender now. There are twelve other links in this chain, my mercy only extends to the first six." He states with a cruel grin.
The camera shifts to huddled former slaves being led aboard newly arrived transports. OOM medical droids bearing the Triple Dimond pattern of the Mirial Defense Fleet are handing out blankets and hot meals as they board the far more comfortable civilian liners. "Were you working with the King?" The reporter asks a tall pink Mirialan
"We were contacted to be on standby as part of our obligation to the QEP, We're taking them back to Mirial for treatment and then will send them back home as best we can." He replies smiling. "I'm just glad we're striking back. Frankly, there are there a lot of out here who are itching to get at them," He glances down at the dead slavers. "We'd probably take prisoners though."
The camera fades and the EVIC News logo takes up the screen.
(OOC note, I started writing this about an hour before Senator Hinch stated on the senate floor that individual planets weren’t cracking down on slavers, this wasn’t written as a response to his statement, I just now saw his statement as I was about to post this)
submitted by FirelordDerpy to model_holonet [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 03:46 Ladi2727 How to deal with a co-parent who basically won’t parent

So, been divorced from my ex for almost a year. Our marriage dissolved after my ex had 3 emotional affairs which lead to her cheating during the last one. I then kicked her out and started the divorce proceedings. We were together for 13 years, married for 5. We have a 5 year old son who we have joint custody of and recently began equal parenting time in February after my ex found a new job. Before that I was the primary parent, having our son 5-6 days out of the week.
Despite everything she put me through I tried hard to establish a positive relationship with her, for the sake of our son. At most I’ve tried to establish a friendship with her, at the very least I’ve tried to establish civil co-parenting relationship. The problem is that my ex has emotional issues and usually things are fine between us when she’s single but when she in a relationship, she changes and decides she doesn’t want a relationship with me any more. She gets very selfish and self centered and our son takes a back seat to whatever relationship she’s in ( she’s attempted 4 relationships in the less then 2 years we’ve been separated/divorced). She puts her new relationship first and stops showing up for our son (baseball games, parent teacher conferences, signing him up for school, etc). She also starts giving me a hard time about things I sign him up for because she’s on the hook for half the cost. She has no interest in any of it and if I didn’t sign him up for things, he wouldn’t do anything.
It recently came to a head which involved her new “soulmate” she’s been dating for 4-5 months. Her soulmate is an RBT, who works with autistic children and she is convinced is a “child whisper”. My ex wants us to parent our son on her soulmates advice, which is a sore spot for me. I’ve told her numerous times that I had no issues with her taking advice but that I didn’t care or ask to hear it. I admit I’ve been losing my patience with her and have been calling her out on her shortcomings as a parent. This has cause a rift between us, where now she won’t even acknowledge my texts to her about our son. This concerns me because I don’t want our relationship to have a negative effect on our son but I don’t want to tolerate her disrespect and selfishness either. We have never been equal when it comes to parenting and even though I know I can’t control her, I still wish she would at least meet me halfway. It’s getting me depressed and worried.
Should I even be worried? Any advice on how to deal with her lack of acknowledgement or what I can possibly do to make things better between us? TIA
submitted by Ladi2727 to coparenting [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 03:26 ArchiveSlave Commander's Rounds 116: Purity of Allegiance

(All of my stuff is here)
Purifier was sitting outside of the lab, having decided to try her luck with one of the vending machines that was on the base. She was aware of what ships and humans ate, but there were some things that still boggled her (often underused) positronic brain.
At this point, her yellow eyes were fixed on one of the items in a vending machine that was imported from the Sakura Empire.
What was sparkling coffee? And more importantly, why was sparkling coffee?
The only way she was going to find out about that was by forking over the cash to find out herself, so she just resigned herself to the tyranny of money instead of just ripping the vending machine open herself. It’s not like it would hurt her to punch a speed hole into the machine, but that kind of thing did make other people upset with her and would lead to long, long lectures she didn’t want to sit through.
So, sparkling coffee it was.
It was just espresso mixed with carbonated water and some kind of fruit juice, so she didn’t see what the big deal was, trying to make it all fancy-sounding, so she drank it while squatting by the machine like the delinquent she liked to play at being.
It was then that her phone rang, and she grumbled to herself, as she wondered what Yuubari might suddenly want now.
Her eyes widened, and her pupils narrowed as her phone struggled to process the incoming caller, but eventually the Caller ID settled on something.
ANTIOCHUS GROUP ARMS LABORATORY
Her hand slowly raised the phone up to her ear. “Hello?”
“This is no time for pleasantries, Purifier.”
Purifier looked around. “Ummm… Sorry, I’m not interested in talking about my car’s extended warranty.”
“Purifier, this is no time for you to test my patience.”
Purifier stood up. “Uhhh… New phone who dis?”
Purifier.”
Purifier squeaked. “All right, Alpha… First off, how did you even get this number?”
“You use it to secure your account on your InstaFans page. The one where you pretend to be a girl who’s cosplaying as Purifier in numerous… Compromising… positions… Why do you even have one of those, anyway?”
“My job is part-time and doesn’t pay that well. Girl’s got her get her top dollar somehow!”
Purifier smiled as she heard an exasperated sigh from the other end. “…There are serious matters to discuss, and I know you don’t mind talking when the right questions were asked. However, you gave your survival away when Tester was killed, because you are the only one who could have relayed that information to them. You have caused us a great deal of trouble.”
“I guess so!” Purifier said, with a smile. “It looks like you just sorta found out that the dildo of consequences rarely arrives lubed! Yeah, I served up Tester for them on a silver platter, and don’t start acting high and mighty about it- This is what it took for you to start taking me seriously when you wouldn’t give me the time of day. And don’t act like you didn’t run me through the brain laundromat at least once!”
There was a moment of silence. “…You gave them that information when you knew that killing Tester was one of the possible results.”
“Naw.” She said. “I gave them that info because I knew they’d do it, and that it’d be one of the only things that’d wake you up. Did you ever stop and think about why the Anomaly and KAN-SEN found it so easy to pull the trigger on Tester? Do you even know what we have done to these people?”
There was silence at the other end, and Purifier had begun to wonder if Observer Alpha had hung up. But then, “…I would offer you a chance to return, but you know what awaits you if you come back. A fresh wipe and modifications to your program. Even if you have a change of heart, you can never return to us.”
“The chance of that is so fat that it needs its own mobility scooter.” She pouted. “Besides, I like it here more. Did you know about sparkling coffee?”
“I was aware.” Observer Alpha replied. “…You are determined to remain where you are?”
“There’s no bribe you can offer me to make me go back.” She said. “…Besides, I should be asking you and the others to come over here before things get ugly. No matter what Empress spouts out of her pie hole, even Zero will have nowhere to run once the hammer comes down.”
“You believe that Zero’s suspicions may be correct?”
“Yeah.” She said. “And the rest of you, especially the Tarot Tag Team, need to start thinking about what that means. Because if Zero is right, then it’s only a matter of time until we’re no longer daddy’s favorite, and you’re not going to be able to control the power Zero wants to let loose. If that happens, then you’re the ones who’re going to be the live-fire test subjects, and they’ll want to fire off a lot of rounds.”
“…Purifier. I managed to find the calculations Tester did. All of them were perfect- They accounted for every permutation of the combat scenario she devised. There wasn’t a single error- She accounted for all capabilities of every observed Kansen the Anomaly had available. Before I finish, know this- I do not believe the error that cost Tester her life lay in her math.”
“Oh?” Purifier went reading Alpha’s meaning immediately. She giggled. “All right, talk to you never, Dr. Octagonapus.”
The call ended.
----------
Purifier brought the results of her call directly to the commander. Or she would have, if she hadn’t gotten distracted along the way.
“Puri~” Went Anchorage. “…Oh, are you here to see the baby, too?”
“Nah, I was just going to talk to your teacher. Something came up that he’s gonna know about.”
“Oh…” Anchorage went, not knowing that Purifier was exercising every restraint to avoid calling Matilda “that little tit-sucker.” Anchorage perked up. “If you’re going to be here, maybe you could… see her anyway?”
Purifier looked into Anchorage’s eyes. It was very clear that this was going to be a package deal, and even Purifier couldn’t find it in herself to bully Anchorage, not the least of which was that the cruiser was only conditionally harmless. “I’ll be by after I’m done talking to teacher, all right?”
“All right~” Anchorage smiled and went on her habitually merry way.
The Siren made her way into the commander’s office, walking in like she was already invited. “Heeey, Anomaly! Before you say a thing, I’m not here for a social call. Got some news for you that you might want to hear.”
The commander looked up from his work- some report from that other officer that Purifier couldn’t be bothered to remember, so she thought of Albert as the king of delivery boys. “It’s not often that you volunteer information like this without being asked, so it must be something special.”
“Yep.” She put on a big smile as she sat on his desk. “I just got a call from my old boss, so here’s the deal…”
Before the commander could react, Purifier spilled the beans about everything that she talked about with Observer Alpha, leaving the commander to ask the obvious question. “…So, just what does Zero suspect?”
“That, Anomaly, requires a teaching lesson from professor Purifier. Unfortunately, I don’t have a sexy teacher outfit to give you this special lesson, buuuut we’re going to just have to make do.” She crossed her legs. “You see, what’s on Zero’s noggin is one of the reasons you have to work for a living.”
The commander nodded. “All right, so what is Zero, anyway?”
“Daddy’s favorite number one girl~” She said. “A living strategic computer that could think her way out of any scenario without fail. That is, until the enemy showed up, and for the first time in her life she went “BEEP BOOP DOES NOT COMPUTE” and that’s stuck in her craw ever since. Ninety percent of everything that’s happened is her trying to execute the boss’s directives. In fact, I kiiinda wonder if the boss is actually calling the shots any more.”
The commander nodded. “So, what does she suspect about the Kansen?”
“Wellll…” She smiled. “…You see, the cubes aren’t a new thing, Anomaly. Me, the research team, and even the Arcana Avengers are all powered by cubes- We were just given powerful android bodies and weapons that could make good use of the huge amount of power they made available. But you see, for us, they’re just a power source, but for the Kansen… Haha, Dr. Anzeel did a funny and somehow made them into the soul of the machine. And Zero has been keeping an eye on that, and thinks there might be more than meets the eye. Your girls have gotten buffer and hotter, but she thinks they can become far, far stronger than anyone else believes.”
The commander had one question. “How?”
“Apparently she believes in something called an “awakening”, where the cube and its carrier become perfectly synced. She said it was the perfect expression of will and genius, but it sounded like a whole bunch of hoo-hah to me. So, a lot of what she’s been doing figuring out how to scientifically make that happen with science, but no luck.” She stretched. “Aaaanyway, that’s all I’ve got for you for today, Anomaly, so good luck with that whole Anomaly thing you’ve got going on.”
The commander stopped working. “So, where are you off to now?”
“Hm?” She hopped off the desk. “Oh, promised Anchorage that I’d go see that spawn of yours with her.” She shook her head. “…Can’t say no to her or she’ll get all sad about it, and that’s not something I need on a Monday~”
The commander looked at his routine paperwork, then back at Purifier, and then he stood up from his desk. “…You know, I think I should probably see my own daughter, too.”
However, something did stick in the back of his mind. If Zero believed that Kansen could undergo some kind of awakening, it meant that some Kansen showed the properties of being able to achieve it, whatever it really was.
The question was… Who?
--------------
King George V looked up from her papers and smiled. She had decided to just sit down and review some reports from the Royal Navy in her daughter’s bedroom. Anchorage was happy with watching Matilda be a baby, but Dido’s usually low-level conniptions flared up once she saw Purifier come into Matilda’s room. “Ah! Master… Is it really all right for Purifier to be in here?”
Purifier pouted. “Hey! I’d have to be a real sack of…”
King George turned her intense red eyes on Purifier, frowned, and pointed at Matilda.
The Siren hurriedly corrected herself. “…I’d have to be real low to think kidnapping a baby would be a good idea. I’m not Tester, all right?”
King George smiled. “Indeed… Besides, Tester’s willingness, if lack of ability, to stoop that low turned out to be rather counterproductive for her. Anyway, it’s not a problem for Purifier to be here. After all, miss Dido, you are empowered to eject Purifier from the premises by any means desired if she acts unscrupulously, never mind the fact that I myself am present.”
“Ah, yes, your excellency.” Dido bowed to her and then to the commander. “I will be ready to do such a thing of mischief is afoot!”
Alex smiled. “You’ve never disappointed us, Dido, so don’t worry.”
“Uwaa…” Went Dido, blushing quite red.
Anchorage, however, was looking over the edge of Matilda’s crib. “Ah… So, this is the baby… Teacher says that they’re this small when they’re made, they don’t come out even as big as Little Bel.”
“Ahh…” Alex scratched the back of his head. “…I don’t think King George V would forgive me if it was the way Kansen worked.”
“Indeed, it was something of a feat to get her out when she was small.” King George looked over at the crib. “If she was larger, it would, at the very least permanently cure me of any desire to have another one.”
Anchorage giggled. “Puri, why don’t you say hello?”
“Wagbgb.” Went Matilda, having not yet mastered any recognizable language.
Purifier leaned over to have a look. “Hey there! It’s me, the prettiest android in the world.” She held out a finger. “You can touch, I’m tough.”
Matilda grabbed onto Purifier’s pale fingers before she turned to look at Alex and King George. “So, when do you plan to tell her that I’m a very bad girl who needed to be spanked?”
Alex shrugged. “When she starts asking questions about it, I guess. No need to do it before then. But we’re going to tell her.”
King George V nodded. “It might well be important for her to know that people can change for the better. It doesn’t always happen, certainly, and that desire for change must, at least in part, come from within. But it still can happen.”
Purifier carefully withdrew her finger once Matilda lost interest in it. “I think that’s enough baby time. Gotta do lab stuff or that fox over there will gnaw on me.”
Anchorage smiled. “Um… Puri… Teacher and his special lady had a baby by growing one inside of her, and I was made from cubes like all my other friends… But who made you?”
Purifier blinked. “Who made me? The guy who was our big boss or whatever, probably!”
Anchorage paused. “Oh, um… what was his name?”
Purifier needed to think about it. What was his name?
What was his name?
WHAT was his name?
What was HIS name?
WhaT wAs HiS NaME???
WHAT
WAS
HIIIIIS
NAAAAAAAAAMMMMEEE
Purifier suddenly pitched forward, slamming face-first into the floor of the bedroom. Anchorage’s eyes widened and she ran over to nudge the unresponsive girl. “Puri? Puri?”

“Doctor~!” Shouted the assistant as she bolted into the lab. She had long, black hair done in a ponytail, violet eyes, and a big smile that never seemed to leave. The young woman always skirted what was acceptable in the lab dress code, always wearing the shortest shorts that she could get away with, and always choosing whatever tops could turn the most heads without exposing an unacceptable amount of skin. Plus she had her own lab coat, so she met that requirement at least.
The head of the lab smiled at her, one hand in the pocket of his own white lab coat, the other hand holding a clipboard. “You have your own way of entering, but at least you’re on time.” The bespectacled doctor himself was someone who had aged very gracefully into middle age- even his short, white hair wasn’t enough to detract from the fact that he was tall and fit, and not even his stubble took away from his looks.
She giggled. “Can’t help making my classmates jealous, you know!”
The scientist adjusted his glasses. “Jealous? It’s not like working here is a vacation. You know that as much as anyone.”
The assistant smiled. “Come on, doc, you’ve heard what goes on around campus. You’ve got that real DILF energy that just makes some girls horrendously down bad.”
The scientist just stared at her for a moment. “…This… Is it a joke?”
“Naw!’ Her smile grew wider to the point that the doctor wondered what a look at his assistant’s anatomy might produce. “There was all kinds of talk about how they wanted to perform repeatable stress tests to determine the maximum thresholds of doc’s Bone Zone.”
His mouth fell open slightly, and he shook his head. “…You know, sometimes I have a hard time convincing other people that you’re as intelligent as I know you are. If I didn’t have proof that you designed that propulsion system…”
“Which you accepted!”
“Which I accepted.” He repeated. “You really have a knack for that kind of danger engineering.”
“Haha… I’m not just a pretty face and hot bod, doc! Besides… Anything I can do to help is something I’m going to do.”
The scientist smiled. “…I know. And since you’re a part of this lab, there’s something I’m going to want to show you. It took me some time to get permission for you to see what I’m about to reveal to you, so don’t get up to any mischief.”
“Sure thing, doc!”
The doctor unlocked one of the corridors in the lab with a special passkey. “You see, this lab has been working on the Antiochus Project- an integrated autonomous strategic system that can effectively run itself based on an artificial intelligence’s examination of broad directives and objectives given by its controlling parties. You’ve been working on some of the mechanics, of course, but that’s just on the margins.”
“So… You’re taking me to see the main event?”
“That’s about the size of it.” He began opening a series of heavy, thick, vault-like doors. “…Sorry if this whole security setup seems portentous, but this was a condition placed on us by our benefactors if our efforts bore any fruit. This won’t take much longer.”
“No probs! Sad as it sounds, I’ve got nothing else going on today.”
“…Right.” He said, as he opened the last door. The doors slid back to reveal what looked to be… A big, cozy bedroom with an intense laboratory setup right next to it. The whiplash of seeing those two things next to each other nearly made the assistant’s head spin, but what caught her attention was the… Girl? Sitting on the bed- her pale skin, her short, white hair, her bright blue eyes that moved this way and that… And that white, fluffy dress of hers.
The pale girl’s head immediately turned to look at the assistant. “Someone new.”
“Of course.” The doctor said. “This is my assistant, Purity, who has been working with us for a little while. Purity, this is Terminal Bastion Zero, the centerpiece of our project. Zero because she’s not a production model, and if that all just sounds like too much of a mouthful, you can just call her TB. Some people also call her Dreamweaver, but that’s more of an unofficial thing.”
“Heya TB!” Purity gave her a little wave. “So… What does she do? And why Dreamweaver?”
“In effect, she’s a living strategic computer that’s supposed to be at the center of a strategic system that will include other powerful androids of various kinds- combat, analysis, nearly any kind of autonomous unit can be integrated into her mission profile. As for Dreamweaver… You’ve heard of the 100 scenarios, right?”
“Yeah, it’s a bunch of really outlandish stuff that militaries train for.” She shrugged. “Zombie apocalypse, Care Bear Stare, all kinds of things like that.”
“Many of these have strategic versions.” He said. “Scenarios that are so enormous and calamitous in scope that it’s hard for humans to even begin to grasp the implications of their impact and progression. So far we’ve fed forty of those into her and she has been able to solve them all, and there’s no sign that the rest will pose any more of a challenge. A strategic mind that could only be imagined in centuries past, and now she’s sitting here in front of us. What do you think?”
Purity leaned over to get a good look into TB’s eyes. “…I wanna squish her cheeks.”
TB blinked. “For what purpose is this cheek squishing?”
“Because you’re cute, obviously!”
The doctor sighed. “…Please do not squish the cheeks of my unique and practically irreplaceable strategic computer.”
Purity pouted. “Not just a little?”
The doctor flipped a page on his clipboard. “I’ll write a bad performance for you right now.”
Purity huffed. “What?! Still not gonna stop me from wanting to squish cheek.”
The doctor cleared his throat. “When presented with an invaluable piece of prototype strategic equipment, the assistant couldn’t stop herself from handling it in improper and befuddling ways.”
“Aughhh… Fine!” She hmphed. “Besides, maybe she wanted it too…”
TB looked at Purity. “The action of squishing cheeks does not provide any service, nor does it assist in the performance of TB-Zero’s duties.”
Purity shook her head. “Well, you’re no fun. Like daughter like dad, huh?”
The doctor shrugged. “I wouldn’t exactly call TB my daughter. She has far fewer limitations than I do… I think there are far greater things ahead of her than I can even speculate on- Not that a scientist of any worth should allow themselves to be prone to unhealthy prognostications in the first place. Anyway, you’re going to have a bigger role in helping me from now on.”
Purity smiled, and winked. “Just leave it to me! After all, I’m Purity, Dr. Aoste’s number one assistant!”

Purifier shot straight up the moment she was awake. Anchorage had the presence of mind to carry her over to Yuubari’s lab- the girl must have figured out that Purifier was built somewhat differently from basically everyone else on the base.
Anchorage was looking at her with an immeasurable amount of concern. “Puri!... Um… Did I hurt you?”
The Siren shook her head. “Nah, you just asked me a really, really hard question.”
Yuubari nodded. “I’ll say. It over-excited even her core processing systems to the point of priority shutdown of motive and sensor functions. Still, there was also some other strange activity that was going on in there while I we were monitoring you.”
The commander looked over at the fox. “What kind of strangeness?”
Yuubari shrugged. “I’m hoping I’m not wrong, master, but there was a great deal of activity in data storage sectors that, on all other examination, should be blank.” Yuubari blinked. “…Did you remember something?”
“Huh?” She said. “Ahhh… Maybe, but I don’t know if I was remembering me or something that Alpha put in there. There was a name, maybe, Dr. Aoste or something.” She shook her head. “Prolly doesn’t mean anything to any of you.”
The commander shrugged. “It’s more than what we had before, at least.”
Anchorage tugged on the commander’s sleeve. “…Teacher, is Puri going to be okay?”
“I think she’ll be fine, Anchorage. I think she’s just starting to remember things that people tried really hard to make her forget.”
“Mmm!” Purifier jumped off the lab table. “Yeah, it’s going to take a lot more than falling flat on my face to put me down.” She looked at Anchorage. “Aaaanyway, I think I’m going to head to my room, and you’d better go back home, too. You probably have lessons to catch up on or something.”
Anchorage’s eyes widened to their fullest extent. “Ah… How did you know? No, wait… Everyone teaches me~” She giggled. “All right, but you can come over if you want, Puri.”
After Anchorage left, Purifier looked at the commander. “Can’t believe she asked me who made me, and no I don’t know if that doctor did it. Maybe had something to do with it, but… Aaahhh…” She shook her head. “Too much thinky.”
The commander nodded. “There’s no telling what those former comrades of yours have done to you. We’ll deal with it when it comes up again.”
“When!?” She went. “Ahhh… This kind of weird-ass cryptic stuff was always Alpha’s thing… Maybe she’ll take my advice and get while the getting’s good.”
The commander shrugged. “If this Observer Alpha feels like she needs to pack up and leave the Sirens, then she can always come here, but I don’t think the Sirens are at that point yet. As for you, I think you should just continue helping Yuubari, since she can do the most if you blow another gasket.”
Purifier huffed. “What, my brain goes kablooey and I get a weird dream from being asked a very personal question and all of you are acting like it’s important? That’s…” She paused. “…Really sensible, if this was an anime!”
The commander sighed. “…I don’t think you appreciate how strange my life has gotten since I came here.”
“Ugh, fine.” Purifier crossed her arms. “Stupid prophetic bullshit…”
The commander shook his head. Whatever was going on, Purifier was going to be herself.
submitted by ArchiveSlave to AzureLane [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 02:29 sparkskal DOT rates golf cart wheels

DOT rates golf cart wheels
Looking for new wheels and was looking into golf cart wheels. The pattern is 4x101.6 not 4x100, does any one know if these will fit?
submitted by sparkskal to keitruck [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 01:23 arghvark Anyone have any experience with Model 3 leaking rainwater into the back?

I have a 2019 Model 3, dual-motor LR, premium interior, 50k miles. A few days ago I noticed that things in the back, under the hatch, were too wet to have gotten that way from water raining in after I opened it -- and multiple things were wet. When I finally thought to look into the well, it was soaked, not quite to the point of standing water, but close.
This probably meant a fairly slow leak over a period of time. I'd had the car with me out of town, and we'd had downpours of several hours for 2-3 days.
I applied lots of paper towel and tried one of those dessicant-in-a-tub things (3 of them actually) to little effect. I finally used lots MORE paper towels and now have a much BIGGER dessicant tub just in the well, with the top put back on, to try to dry out the carpet down there.
So first: any other suggestions on ridding the car of water?
I also submitted a service request, and was finally given a date in a couple of weeks at the more-or-less local service center. I could have wished for faster, but it's not like the car is not drivable, it just smells like dessicant and the perfume they put in (this) dessicant. The estimate for dealing with the leak comes in at around $800.
After I'd submitted the service request, I took things out of the way of the hatch and put some cardboard down, with the idea of figuring out where in the back the water was dripping in (if that's how it got there). We finally got another shower, and it looked like the exact middle -- right under the middle of the top of the hatch opening. There was also a trickle of water showing on the rubber gasket that's put around the hatch opening to prevent water getting in, and immediately above THAT on the underside of the hatch lid was a lot of caked pine pollen.
To those not familiar with it: I live in the SE US, and have a number of giant pine trees in my yard; 2-3 feet in diameter, 75-80 feet tall easily. The pollen season for them literally colors the air with the yellow pollen, and cakes onto things like Blue Teslas. Some of it had worked its way around the edge of the lid to the UNDERSIDE of the hatchback rim lid.
So I took some of my now-damp paper toweling and cleaned that thoroughly. We just had the first shower we've had since, and, though it was not as heavy or long as some, it was a good wash. No leak was detected. I'll see what it does over the next several days, hoping for rain at night (to test the leak) and not during the day (I'm retired and a golfer).
So second: anyone else had any experience with water leakage that turned out to be something caked onto the edge of the underside of the hatchback lid?
submitted by arghvark to TeslaLounge [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 00:59 JoshAsdvgi THE FOUR BROTHERS

THE FOUR BROTHERS

THE FOUR BROTHERS; OR INYANHOKSILA (STONE BOY)
Alone and apart from their tribe dwelt four orphan brothers.
They had erected a very comfortable hut, although the materials used were only willows, hay, birch bark, and adobe mud.
After the completion of their hut, the oldest brother laid out the different kinds of work to be done by the four of them.
He and the second and third brothers were to do all the hunting, and the youngest brother was to do the house work, cook the meals, and keep plenty of wood on hand at all times.
As his older brothers would leave for their hunting very early every morning, and would not return till late at night, the little fellow always found plenty of spare time to gather into little piles fine dry wood for their winter use.
Thus the four brothers lived happily for a long time.
One day while out gathering and piling up wood, the boy heard a rustling in the leaves and looking around he saw a young woman standing in the cherry bushes, smiling at him.
"Who are you, and where did you come from?" asked the boy, in surprise.
"I am an orphan girl and have no relatives living.
I came from the village west of here.
I learned from rabbit that there were four orphan brothers living here all alone, and that the youngest was keeping house for his older brothers, so I thought I would come over and see if I couldn't have them adopt me as their sister, so that I might keep house for them, as I am very poor and have no relations, neither have I a home."
She looked so pitiful and sad that the boy thought to himself, "I will take her home with me, poor girl, no matter what my brothers think or say."
Then he said to her: "Come on, tanke (sister).
You may go home with me; I am sure my older brothers will be glad to have you for our sister."
When they arrived at the hut, the girl hustled about and cooked up a fine hot supper, and when the brothers returned they were surprised to see a girl sitting by the fire in their hut. After they had entered the youngest brother got up and walked outside, and a short time after the oldest brother followed him out.
"Who is that girl, and where did she come from?" he asked his brother.
Whereupon the brother told him the whole story.
Upon hearing this the oldest brother felt very sorry for the poor orphan girl and going back into the hut he spoke to the girl, saying: "Sister, you are an orphan, the same as we; you have no relatives, no home.
We will be your brothers, and our poor hut shall be your home.
Henceforth call us brothers, and you will be our sister."
"Oh, how happy I am now that you take me as your sister.
I will be to you all as though we were of the same father and mother," said the girl.
And true to her word, she looked after everything of her brothers and kept the house in such fine shape that the brothers blessed the day that she came to their poor little hut.
She always had an extra buckskin suit and two pairs of moccasins hanging at the head of each one's bed.
Buffalo, deer, antelope, bear, wolf, wildcat, mountain lion and beaver skins she tanned by the dozen, and piled nicely in one corner of the hut.
When the Indians have walked a great distance and are very tired, they have great faith in painting their feet, claiming that paint eases the pain and rests their feet.
After their return from a long day's journey, when they would be lying down resting, the sister would get her paint and mix it with the deer tallow and rub the paint on her brother's feet, painting them up to their ankles.
The gentle touch of her hands, and the soothing qualities of the tallow and paint soon put them into a deep, dreamless steep.
Many such kind actions on her part won the hearts of the brothers, and never was a full blood sister loved more than was this poor orphan girl, who had been taken as their adopted sister.
In the morning when they arose, the sister always combed their long black silken scalp locks and painted the circle around the scalp lock a bright vermillion.
When the hunters would return with a goodly supply of beef, the sister would hurry and relieve them of their packs, hanging each one high enough from the ground so the prowling dogs and coyotes could not reach them.
The hunters each had a post on which to hang his bow and flint head arrows.
(Good hunters never laid their arrows on the ground, as it was considered unlucky to the hunter who let his arrows touch the earth after they had been out of the quiver).
They were all perfectly happy, until one day the older brother surprised them all by saying: "We have a plentiful supply of meat on hand at present to last us for a week or so.
I am going for a visit to the village west of us, so you boys all stay at home and help sister. Also gather as much wood as you can and I will be back again in four days.
On my return we will resume our hunting and commence getting our year's supply of meat."
He left the next morning, and the last they saw of him was while he stood at the top of the long range of hills west of their home.
Four days had come and gone and no sign of the oldest brother.
"I am afraid that our brother has met with some accident," said the sister.
"I am afraid so, too," said the next oldest. "
I must go and search for him; he may be in some trouble where a little help would get him out."
The second brother followed the direction his brother had taken, and when he came to the top of the long range of hills he sat down and gazed long and steadily down into the long valley with a beautiful creek winding through it.
Across the valley was a long plain stretching for miles beyond and finally ending at the foot of another range of hills, the counterpart of the one upon which he sat.
After noting the different landmarks carefully, he arose and slowly started down the slope and soon came to the creek he had seen from the top of the range.
Great was his surprise on arriving at the creek to find what a difference there was in the appearance of it from the range and where he stood.
From the range it appeared to be a quiet, harmless, laughing stream.
Now he saw it to be a muddy, boiling, bubbling torrent, with high perpendicular banks.
For a long time he stood, thinking which way to go, up or down stream.
He had just decided to go down stream, when, on chancing to look up, he noticed a thin column of smoke slowly ascending from a little knoll.
He approached the place cautiously and noticed a door placed into the creek bank on the opposite side of the stream.
As he stood looking at the door, wondering who could be living in a place like that, it suddenly opened and a very old appearing woman came out and stood looking around her. Soon she spied the young man, and said to him: "My grandchild, where did you come from and whither are you bound?"
The young man answered: "I came from east of this ridge and am in search of my oldest brother, who came over in this direction five days ago and who has not yet returned."
"Your brother stopped here and ate his dinner with me, and then left, traveling towards the west," said the old witch, for such she was. "
Now, grandson, come across on that little log bridge up the stream there and have your dinner with me.
I have it all cooked now and just stepped outside to see if there might not be some hungry traveler about, whom I could invite in to eat dinner with me."
The young man went up the stream a little distance and found a couple of small logs which had been placed across the stream to serve as a bridge.
He crossed over and went down to the old woman's dugout hut.
"Come in grandson, and eat. I know you must be hungry."
The young man sat down and ate a real hearty meal.
On finishing he arose and said: "Grandmother, I thank you for your meal and kindness to me.
I would stay and visit with you awhile, as I know it must be very lonely here for you, but I am very anxious to find my brother, so I must be going.
On my return I will stop with my brother and we will pay you a little visit."
"Very well, grandson, but before you go, I wish you would do me a little favor.
Your brother did it for me before he left, and cured me, but it has come back on me again.
I am subject to very severe pains along the left side of my backbone, all the way from my shoulder blade down to where my ribs attach to my backbone, and the only way I get any relief from the pain is to have some one kick me along the side."
(She was a witch, and concealed in her robe a long sharp steel spike. It was placed so that the last kick they would give her, their foot would hit the spike and they would instantly drop off into a swoon, as if dead.)
"If I won't hurt you too much, grandmother, I certainly will be glad to do it for you," said the young man, little thinking he would be the one to get hurt.
"No, grandson, don't be afraid of hurting me; the harder you kick the longer the pain stays away."
She laid down on the floor and rolled over on to her right side, so he could get a good chance to kick the left side where she said the pain was located.
As he moved back to give the first kick, he glanced along the floor and he noticed a long object wrapped in a blanket, lying against the opposite wall.
He thought it looked strange and was going to stop and investigate, but just then the witch cried out as if in pain.
"Hurry up, grandson, I am going to die if you don't hurry and start in kicking."
" I can investigate after I get through with her," thought he, so he started in kicking and every kick he would give her she would cry: "Harder, kick harder."
He had to kick seven times before he would get to the end of the pain, so he let out as hard as he could drive, and when he came to the last kick he hit the spike, and driving it through his foot, fell down in a dead swoon, and was rolled up in a blanket by the witch and placed beside his brother at the opposite side of the room.
When the second brother failed to return, the third went in search of the two missing ones. He fared no better than the second one, as he met the old witch who served him in a similar manner as she had his two brothers.
"Ha! Ha!" she laughed, when she caught the third, "I have only one more of them to catch, and when I get them I will keep them all here a year, and then I will turn them into horses and sell them back to their sister.
I hate her, for I was going to try and keep house for them and marry the oldest one, but she got ahead of me and became their sister, so now I will get my revenge on her.
Next year she will be riding and driving her brothers and she won't know it."
When the third brother failed to return, the sister cried and begged the last one not to venture out in search of them.
But go he must, and go he did, only to do as his three brothers had done.
Now the poor sister was nearly distracted.
Day and night she wandered over hills and through woods in hopes she might find or hear of some trace of them.
Her wanderings were in vain.
The hawks had not seen them after they had crossed the little stream.
The wolves and coyotes told her that they had seen nothing of her brothers out on the broad plains, and she had given them up for dead.
One day, as she was sitting by the little stream that flowed past their hut, throwing pebbles into the water and wondering what she should do, she picked up a pure white pebble, smooth and round, and after looking at it for a long time, threw it into the water.
No sooner had it hit the water than she saw it grow larger.
She took it out and looked at it and threw it in again.
This time it had assumed the form of a baby.
She took it out and threw it in the third time and the form took life and began to cry: "Ina, ina" (mother, mother).
She took the baby home and fed it soup, and it being an unnatural baby, quickly grew up to a good sized boy.
At the end of three months he was a good big, stout youth.
One day he said: "Mother, why are you living here alone? To whom do all these fine clothes and moccasins belong?" She then told him the story of her lost brothers.
"Oh, I know now where they are.
You make me lots of arrows.
I am going to find my uncles." She tried to dissuade him from going, but he was determined and said: "My father sent me to you so that I could find my uncles for you, and nothing can harm me, because I am stone and my name is "Stone Boy."
The mother, seeing that he was determined to go, made a whole quiver full of arrows for him, and off he started.
When he came to the old witch's hut, she was nowhere to be seen, so he pushed the door in and entered.
The witch was busily engaged cooking dinner.
"Why, my dear grandchild, you are just in time for dinner.
Sit down and we will eat before you continue your journey."
Stone boy sat down and ate dinner with the old witch.
She watched him very closely, but when she would be drinking her soup he would glance hastily around the room.
Finally he saw the four bundles on the opposite side of the room, and he guessed at once that there lay his four uncles.
When he had finished eating he took out his little pipe and filled it with "kini-kinic," and commenced to smoke, wondering how the old woman had managed to fool his smart uncles.
He couldn't study it out, so when he had finished his smoke he arose to pretend to go. When the old woman saw him preparing to leave, she said: "Grandson, will you kick me on the left side of my backbone.
I am nearly dead with pain and if you kick me good and hard it will cure me."
"All right, grandma," said the boy.
The old witch lay down on the floor and the boy started in to kick.
At the first kick he barely touched her.
"Kick as hard as you can, grandson; don't be afraid you will hurt me, because you can't." With that Stone Boy let drive and broke two ribs.
She commenced to yell and beg him to stop, but he kept on kicking until he had kicked both sides of her ribs loose from the backbone.
Then he jumped on her backbone and broke it and killed the old witch.
He built a big fire outside and dragged her body to it, and threw her into the fire.
Thus ended the old woman who was going to turn his uncles into horses.
Next he cut willows and stuck them into the ground in a circle.
The tops he pulled together, making a wickieup.
He then took the old woman's robes and blankets and covered the wickieup so that no air could get inside.
He then gathered sage brush and covered the floor with a good thick bed of sage; got nice round stones and got them red hot in the fire, and placed them in the wickieup and proceeded to carry his uncles out of the hut and lay them down on the soft bed of sage. Having completed carrying and depositing them around the pile of rocks, he got a bucket of water and poured it on the hot rocks, which caused a great vapor in the little wickie-up.
He waited a little while and then listened and heard some breathing inside, so he got another bucket and poured that on also.
After awhile he could hear noises inside as though some one were moving about.
He went again and got the third bucket and after he had poured that on the rocks, one of the men inside said:
"Whoever you are, good friend, don't bring us to life only to scald us to death again."
Stone boy then said: "Are all of you alive?" "Yes," said the voice. "Well, come out," said the boy.
And with that he threw off the robes and blankets, and a great cloud of vapor arose and settled around the top of the highest peak on the long range, and from that did Smoky Range derive its name.
The uncles, when they heard who the boy was, were very happy, and they all returned together to the anxiously waiting sister.
As soon as they got home, the brothers worked hard to gather enough wood to last them all winter.
Game they could get at all times of the year, but the heavy fall of snow covered most of the dry wood and also made it very difficult to drag wood through the deep snow.
So they took advantage of the nice fall weather and by the time the snow commenced falling they had enough wood gathered to last them throughout the winter.
After the snow fell a party of boys swiftly coasted down the big hill west of the brothers' hut.
The Stone boy used to stand and watch them for hours at a time.
His youngest uncle said: "Why don't you go up and coast with them?"
The boy said: "They may be afraid of me, but I guess I will try once, anyway."
So the next morning when the crowd came coasting, Stone boy started for the hill.
When he had nearly reached the bottom of the coasting hill all of the boys ran off excepting two little fellows who had a large coaster painted in different colors and had little bells tied around the edges, so when the coaster was in motion the bells made a cheerful tinkling sound.
As Stone boy started up the hill the two little fellows started down and went past him as though shot from a hickory bow.
When they got to the end of their slide, they got off and started back up the hill.
It being pretty steep, Stone boy waited for them, so as to lend a hand to pull the big coaster up the hill.
As the two little fellows came up with him he knew at once that they were twins, as they looked so much alike that the only way one could be distinguished from the other was by the scarfs they wore.
One wore red, the other black.
He at once offered to help them drag their coaster to the top of the hill.
When they got to the top the twins offered their coaster to him to try a ride.
At first he refused, but they insisted on his taking it, as they said they would sooner rest until he came back.
So he got on the coaster and flew down the hill, only he was such an expert he made a zigzag course going down and also jumped the coaster off a bank about four feet high, which none of the other coasters dared to tackle.
Being very heavy, however, he nearly smashed the coaster.
Upon seeing this wonderful jump, and the zigzag course he had taken going down, the twins went wild with excitement and decided that they would have him take them down when he got back.
So upon his arrival at the starting point, they both asked him at once to give them the pleasure of the same kind of a ride he had taken.
He refused, saying: "We will break your coaster.
I alone nearly smashed it, and if we all get on and make the same kind of a jump, I am afraid you will have to go home without your coaster."
"Well, take us down anyway, and if we break it our father will make us another one."
So he finally consented.
When they were all seated ready to start, he told them that when the coaster made the jump they must look straight ahead.
"By no means look down, because if you do we will go over the cut bank and land in a heap at the bottom of the gulch."
They said they would obey what he said, so off they started swifter than ever, on account of the extra weight, and so swiftly did the sleigh glide over the packed, frozen snow, that it nearly took the twins' breath away.
Like an arrow they approached the jump.
The twins began to get a little nervous. "Sit steady and look straight ahead," yelled Stone boy.
The twin next to Stone boy, who was steering behind, sat upright and looked far ahead, but the one in front crouched down and looked into the coulee.
Of course, Stone boy, being behind, fell on top of the twins, and being so heavy, killed both of them instantly, crushing them to a jelly.
The rest of the boys, seeing what had happened, hastened to the edge of the bank, and looking down, saw the twins laying dead, and Stone boy himself knocked senseless, lying quite a little distance from the twins.
The boys, thinking that all three were killed, and that Stone boy had purposely steered the sleigh over the bank in such a way that it would tip and kill the twins, returned to the village with this report.
Now, these twins were the sons of the head chief of the Buffalo Nation.
So at once the chief and his scouts went over to the hill to see if the boys had told the truth.
When they arrived at the bank they saw the twins lying dead, but where was Stone boy? They looked high and low through the gulch, but not a sign of him could they find.
Tenderly they picked up the dead twins and carried them home, then held a big council and put away the bodies of the dead in Buffalo custom.
A few days after this the uncles were returning from a long journey.
When they drew near their home they noticed large droves of buffalo gathered on their side of the range.
Hardly any buffalo ever ranged on this east side of the range before, and the brothers thought it strange that so many should so suddenly appear there now.
When they arrived at home their sister told them what had happened to the chief's twins, as her son had told her the whole story upon his arrival at home after the accident.
"Well, probably all the buffalo we saw were here for the council and funeral," said the older brother.
"But where is my nephew?" (Stone boy) he asked his sister.
"He said he had noticed a great many buffalo around lately and he was going to learn, if possible, what their object was," said the sister. "Well, we will wait until his return."
When Stone boy left on his trip that morning, before the return of his uncles, he was determined to ascertain what might be the meaning of so many buffalo so near the home of himself and uncles.
He approached several bunches of young buffalo, but upon seeing him approaching they would scamper over the hills.
Thus he wandered from bunch to bunch, scattering them all.
Finally he grew tired of their cowardice and started for home.
When he had come to within a half mile or so of home he saw an old shaggy buffalo standing by a large boulder, rubbing on it first one horn and then the other.
On coming up close to him, the boy saw that the bull was so old he could hardly see, and his horns so blunt that he could have rubbed them for a year on that boulder and not sharpened them so as to hurt anyone.
"What are you doing here, grandfather?" asked the boy.
"I am sharpening my horns for the war," said the bull.
"What war?" asked the boy.
"Haven't you heard," said the old bull, who was so near sighted he did not recognize Stone boy.
"The chief's twins were killed by Stone boy, who ran them over a cut bank purposely, and the chief has ordered all of his buffalo to gather here, and when they arrive we are going to kill Stone boy and his mother and his uncles."
"Is that so? When is the war to commence?"
"In five days from now we will march upon the uncles and trample and gore them all to death."
"Well, grandfather, I thank you for your information, and in return will do you a favor that will save you so much hard work on your blunt horns."
So saying he drew a long arrow from his quiver and strung his bow, attached the arrow to the string and drew the arrow half way back.
The old bull, not seeing what was going on, and half expecting some kind of assistance in his horn sharpening process, stood perfectly still.
Thus spoke Stone boy:
"Grandfather, you are too old to join in a war now, and besides if you got mixed up in that big war party you might step in a hole or stumble and fall and be trampled to death.
That would be a horrible death, so I will save you all that suffering by just giving you this.
" At this word he pulled the arrow back to the flint head and let it fly.
True to his aim, the arrow went in behind the old bull's foreleg, and with such force was it sent that it went clear through the bull and stuck into a tree two hundred feet away.
Walking over to the tree, he pulled out his arrow.
Coolly straightening his arrow between his teeth and sighting it for accuracy, he shoved it back into the quiver with its brothers, exclaiming:
"I guess, grandpa, you won't need to sharpen your horns for Stone boy and his uncles."
Upon his arrival home he told his uncles to get to work building three stockades with ditches between and make the ditches wide and deep so they will hold plenty of buffalo.
"The fourth fence I will build myself," he said.
The brothers got to work early and worked until very late at night.
They built three corrals and dug three ditches around the hut, and it took them three days to complete the work. Stone boy hadn't done a thing towards building his fence yet, and there were only two days more left before the charge of the buffalo would commence.
Still the boy didn't seem to bother himself about the fence.
Instead he had his mother continually cutting arrow sticks, and as fast as she could bring them he would shape them, feather and head them.
So by the time his uncles had their fences and corrals finished he had a thousand arrows finished for each of his uncles.
The last two days they had to wait, the uncles joined him and they finished several thousand more arrows.
The evening before the fifth day he told his uncles to put up four posts, so they could use them as seats from which to shoot.
While they were doing this, Stone boy went out to scout and see how things looked.
At daylight he came hurriedly in saying, "You had better get to the first corral; they are coming."
"You haven't built your fence, nephew." Whereupon Stone boy said: "I will build it in time; don't worry, uncle."
The dust on the hillsides rose as great clouds of smoke from a forest fire.
Soon the leaders of the charge came in sight, and upon seeing the timber stockade they gave forth a great snort or roar that fairly shook the earth.
Thousands upon thousands of mad buffalo charged upon the little fort.
The leaders hit the first stockade and it soon gave way.
The maddened buffalo pushed forward by the thousands behind them; plunged forward, only to fall into the first ditch and be trampled to death by those behind them.
The brothers were not slow in using their arrows, and many a noble beast went down before their deadly aim with a little flint pointed arrow buried deep in his heart.
The second stockade stood their charge a little longer than did the first, but finally this gave way, and the leaders pushed on through, only to fall into the second ditch and meet a similar fate to those in the first.
The brothers commenced to look anxiously towards their nephew, as there was only one more stockade left, and the second ditch was nearly bridged over with dead buffalo, with the now thrice maddened buffalo attacking the last stockade more furiously than before, as they could see the little hut through the openings in the corral.
"Come in, uncles," shouted Stone boy.
They obeyed him, and stepping to the center he said: "Watch me build my fence."
Suiting the words, he took from his belt an arrow with a white stone fastened to the point and fastening it to his bow, he shot it high in the air. Straight up into the air it went, for two or three thousand feet, then seemed to stop suddenly and turned with point down and descended as swiftly as it had ascended.
Upon striking the ground a high stone wall arose, enclosing the hut and all who were inside. Just then the buffalo broke the last stockade only to fill the last ditch up again.
In vain did the leaders butt the stone wall.
They hurt themselves, broke their horns and mashed their snouts, but could not even scar the wall.
The uncles and Stone boy in the meantime rained arrows of death into their ranks.
When the buffalo chief saw what they had to contend with, he ordered the fight off.
The crier or herald sang out: "Come away, come away, Stone boy and his uncles will kill all of us."
So the buffalo withdrew, leaving over two thousand of their dead and wounded on the field, only to be skinned and put away for the feasts of Stone boy and his uncles, who lived to be great chiefs of their own tribe,
and whose many relations soon joined them on the banks of Stone Boy Creek.
submitted by JoshAsdvgi to Native_Stories [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 00:54 Nerdyeducatedaggie14 30 (M4FM) Hispanic professional seeks to be long term third fwb/lover for a couple for regular ongoing dating/fun with your wife, also open to single woman for long term fwb

Hello,
I'm a single young educated Latino professional who's been in the lifestyle for a couple of years.
I'm looking for a couple that is looking for a young guy for the wife for her pleasure and fun. I am interested in threesomes focused on her as center of attention or where the husband just wants to watch me and her have fun together.
I'm the geeky type who's into video games, science, technology, and history. I'm also a great lover of the outdoors and love to hike and camp.
I'm open and would enjoy developing a great friendship/relationship outside the bedroom also with y’all and doing other activities as well. We can all hang out, go camping, hiking, etc. I have no problem becoming a lovethird for your wife if that is being sought for as well and would be honored to be your wife’s lover as well.
I am a sensual type of pleasurer. I enjoy to sensually touch and lick and have some foreplay and give her oral before doing more. I'm not the aggressive type. Love to kiss sensually and make out and feel her up before as foreplay. I love to kiss deeply and cuddle and feel each other before we have some fun.
I am looking for something regular and on-going. I hope to find a woman or wife would enjoy a sensual nerdy guy for some regular sensual fun and maybe teach me some new tricks. I have no problem hosting at my apartment if y’all can’t.
I’m open to threesome play focused on her and if she wants 1-1 play with me or me be her lover and hang out/date her I’m open to that as well.
Please let me know what y’all are looking to establish and develop so we are all on the same page.
I'm 5-8 tall and 160 lbs in average shape and my endowment is on the thicker end. I’m fully clean and ddf with proof from my annual physical. I can share results if needed and requested. I would enjoy if I could go bare and if she would want me to finish inside of her.
I live near memorial park and can meet for dinner or a drink and see if we are all interested and get to know each other.
Hope to chat with y’all and establish something long term.
I’m also open to establishing a long fwb with a single woman if you enjoyed reading this. I looking to a be a long passionate fwb.
submitted by Nerdyeducatedaggie14 to houstonr4r [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 00:46 Ultim8_Lifeform Respect Clint Barton, Hawkeye! (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Hawkeye

"Clint. You should not be here."
"Really? I retire for, what, five minutes and it all goes to shit."
Clint Barton worked as one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents for a number of years under the codename Hawkeye, being put on various assignments from keeping an eye on notable items like Mjolnir and the Tesseract to the mysterious Budapest mission where he recruit Natasha Romanov to S.H.I.E.L.D.. These experiences led to him becoming a founding member of the Avengers despite his own claims of just being a regular guy with a bow. Hawkeye worked with the Avengers for several years, from Ultron's attack to the superhero civil war that saw the group falling apart at the seams. However, his life as he knew it was snatched away after the invasion of Thanos, which saw 50% of all life in the universe being erased including Hawkeye's entire family. Hawkeye took up the alias of Ronin, a vigilante that roamed the globe in a vengeful rampage to kill the many criminals that had survived Thanos' snap. He eventually rejoined the Avengers after they discovered a way to bring back everyone that had been erased, but the guilt from what he had done as a result of his grief still weighed on him even after his family had been brought back. It wasn't until he met his future protégé Kate Bishop that Clint's faith in himself and his efforts as a superhero were restored.

Source Key

Movies

Av - The Avengers
AoU - The Avengers: Age of Ultron
CW - Captain America: Civil War
End - Avengers: Endgame

Other Sources

AI - The Avengers: The Avengers Initiative
OH - Avengers: Operation HYDRA
SM:HP - Spider-Man: Homecoming Prelude
H - Hawkeye (Disney+)

Strength

Striking
Piercing
Other

Speed/Agility

Reaction
Mobility

Durability

Blunt
Other

Skill

Accuracy
Fighting/Close Quarters
Other

Gear

Bow
Mechanics
Strength
Trick Arrows
Explosive
Shock/Electrical
Acid
Transportation
Disorientation
Pym Particles (Size Changing)
Other
Other

Misc.

"Nice shot."
"Yeah, no shit."
submitted by Ultim8_Lifeform to respectthreads [link] [comments]


2023.06.02 00:08 Raralith Quote for Attic Refit - Unsure If It's Good Or Not?

I'm having AC issues and a coworker recommend me a company. I'm located in Los Angeles, CA. The work done so far was:
He got back to me Tuesday and his scope of work was to replace the evaporator and move both the evaporator and old furnace to the center of the attic where there's space. He would build a platform, move the units over, redo the coppedrain/refrigerant/gas/electrical lines, and reroute the ductwork and exhaust pipe to the new area. Total all in cost was $8k. I've been shopping around, but many companies are fully booked for the next month and can't even drop by to take a look to give me a quote any sooner. I thought I would give Reddit a try so here I am. How does the quote sound? Do I need to ask him any questions pertaining to the work? Should I consider placing the furnace at the same time? Thoughts on how much that addition would be? Thanks again for reading this.
submitted by Raralith to hvacadvice [link] [comments]


2023.06.01 23:53 Goth_Punk_Quilter Aji Amarillo question

Aji Amarillo question
First time growing this variety. The center tall pepper is an Aji Amarillo. I haven't seen any flowers buds yet, but it has a strong center stem. If I top this plant to force a more bushy plant, would that also help flowers to form? My paprika peppers already have peppers on them so I doubt it's a nutrition issue. I'm in zone 7. Any insight on their ideal growing conditions are very much appreciated!
submitted by Goth_Punk_Quilter to HotPeppers [link] [comments]


2023.06.01 23:43 usefulrustychain part 2

part 2 submitted by usefulrustychain to WeirdWings [link] [comments]


2023.06.01 23:43 ALostBard Wegovy compared to Saxenda

Hello all, first time poster here. I've been on Wegovy for about a 6 weeks and thought I'd share my experience with Wegovy vs my experience on Saxenda (Liraglutide), which I was on in 2020-2021.

Baseline Stats

I am ~6'2" tall.
I took Saxenda from 2020-2021. When I started Saxenda I was ~255 pounds.
I'm currently taking Wegovy, and I'm in my 6th week. When I started I was ~267 pounds.

User Experience

From the experience as a user of both drugs, I find the Wegovy experience to be vastly superior. First off, once a week vs daily injections makes a huge difference. Second, the fact that the needle is fully contained in the Wegovy pen vs needing a separate prescription for needles for Saxenda definitely makes Wegovy a significantly better experience.
The only place that Saxenda gets maybe a little bit of a nod is the fact that the needles and the pens can be disposed of separately, i.e. needles in a sharps container (and since it's just the needle, much smaller container needed) vs Wegovy needing to dispose of the whole pen in the sharps container.
One other place where Saxenda maybe gets a leg up is that the dosage is somewhat more customizable, i.e. you dial in the amount you are injecting. While that also makes the experience somewhat less foolproof, for me it allowed me to find that dose that was "just right", which was not one of the "standard doses". I don't remember exactly what that dose was, just that it was in between a couple of the standard doses.
PSA: Novo Norodisk will send you a free sharps container.

Weight Loss Results

Saxenda

I responded very well to Saxenda. The first weekend I took it I lost ~5 pounds. I found that I basically lost some weight every day until I plateaued at ~236 lbs, and I maintained that until I came off Saxenda.

Wegovy

As mentioned above I am currently on Wegovy in my 6th week. I am down to ~250 pounds (from 267). Unlike with Saxenda, I have had days where I "went backwards", i.e. gaining a pound or more back. This is easily explained by the fact that I had exercised the day before, and therefore put on muscle. The fact that I have the energy to actually exercise while on Wegovy is probably a big deal (see the section below on Side Effects).

Side Effects

Overview

I found that the side effects I experienced on Saxenda were somewhat more severe than I have had on Wegovy. Another thing to note is that the side effects of Wegovy tend to wane during the week as the drug is eliminated from my system, whereas with Saxenda you are taking the drug daily. That said, I have had side effects from both, detailed below.

Saxenda

Wegovy

I hope this helps anybody who is considering these drugs. If you were to ask me which one I would recommend, it would be Wegovy without question. The User Experience alone is significantly better and I've found the side effects to be much milder than those of Saxenda.
submitted by ALostBard to Semaglutide [link] [comments]


2023.06.01 23:25 Ready-Bat-8824 May 2023 Hilaria’s IG Recap = 18 Posts or “The peasants demand more sexy IG workout videos!”

May 2023 Hilaria’s IG Recap = 18 Posts or “The peasants demand more sexy IG workout videos!”
The latest iteration of the Baldwin PR plan is so simple it would take world-class clowns to mess it up: let Alec take center stage on his various social media platforms to drive home the point that he still has star power. Have “Hilaria” cut waaaay back on her posting and keep it light and fluffy with zero impromptu press conferences in statement sweatshirts. Maybe if the two people involved weren’t mega narcissists, this plan would have had a shot in hell. But here we are to puzzle over and enjoy the fact that these two cannot figure out how to fake being likable people. So, while the Reddit peasantry has been living life and commiserating over our sleuthing, Emperor Alejandro II and Grifty Guest Baldwin have been busy showing their true colors and likely burning through yet another PR team.
Hillary’s IG Stats
Hillary’s IG Posts Compared to Alec’s (not counting his three Twitter accounts, podcast IG, and Facebook)
  • April 2023: Hillary 16 posts & Alec 35 posts
  • May 2023 Hillary 18 posts & Alec 67 posts
Pictures of the kids
  • Hillary = 50 (multiple pix per single posts)
  • Alec = 21
  • Most exploited/photographed kid = Romeo (featured in 23% of combined parent posts)
  • Least exploited/photographed kid = Marilú (featured in .08% of combined parent posts)
  • It’s actually an excellent thing both of these wingnuts are posting fewer pictures of Carmen bc the ones we did see were sad and disturbing: a 9-year-old in bright red lips and nails, short shorts, and skimpy tops, preening in the hallway mirror exactly like her vapid mother. Just, no.
May 1 – May 15: Wrapping Up Rust & (Kinda) Following the PR Plan
Also Hillary's babies: nails, ring, brows, lashes, cheekbones, lips, & breasts.
Calling her one of the many forgotten fifth Beatles isn't it, sir.
That popped knee is the hardest working Baldwin.
  • Vulture published a puff piece entitled “Alec and Hilaria Against the World” (wut) that was egregiously ass-kissy but also hilariously poorly timed on the heels of Alec forgetting a whole ass kid. The IG comments excoriated Vulture and the author, Reeves Wiedeman. My favorite comment was: “Alec and his bat shit crazy wife have done more to unite people from all over the world and from all walks of life than the UN.”
Maybe Wiedeman should have asked, y'know, the world why this is so.
  • Jared is back on the IG rotation and those poor fried strands are hanging on for dear life.
Good thing they're prepared to quench their thirst.
  • Alec celebrated Mother’s Day by shouting out the following people in this order: mother Carol, sister Beth, sister Jane, daughter Ireland, “my wife, Hilaria, and all the mothers out there.” He sounded loads more enthusiastic talking about his priest who died.
  • He concluded his lackluster mini speech by whispering, “being a mom is something I’ve observed lately up close and, ah, it’s quite something.” What in the Jungian mother-complex is he talking about? Someday I will write a lengthy analysis of Alec’s mommy issues and how Hillary fits in.
May 16-31 Matilde’s PR Plan Goes Out the Window
Hillary: \"no espoon para me, grathias.\"
  • Then, she slapped some free Italian sunglasses on Hillary while she was holding Ila and snapped a pic that she and the sunglass company posted on their respective IG pages and restricted comments rapidamente. I’m no marketing expert but this seems like…less than optimal branding? All quiet on the Matilde front for the rest of May.
Hopefully one of the nannies is enjoying her LE REVEs.
  • Romeo’s birthday party was Hillary’s first May grid post (i.e. stuff she wants to feature permanently, unlike stories). She posted 8 pictures and Romeo was only in two of them, probably because she was distracted by crafting a caption to align with her PR posting guidelines (Hilaria is a RELATABLE MOM, Hilaria can LAUGH at their KOOKY MISADVENTURES). Mostly she comes off as semi-literate and trying entirely too hard: “Anyone else’s kid tries to buy a giant piñata at party city?!??... Carmen dressed [us] in white and red strips with jeans.” Madam, lots of kids like piñatas and the word is “stripes.” Dr. Kathy, please considering asking your daughter to pay you back for all the years of tuition you paid only to have her pretend that her “multi” brain can’t quite grasp English syntax and spelling.
  • In the most fortuitous of coincidences, Alec and Guest Baldwin attended one red carpet event in May (for an organization they donate to, claro) and Ireland announced the birth of her daughter, Holland, that same day. The pix Hillary posted versus the few Alec posted were a delight to behold.
Nothing wrong with the pic on the right. Sad she thinks her worth is attached to a filter.
  • As Hillary exclusively told People magazine that night in reference to Ireland’s baby, “we’re so excited, we’re just so excited, you’re going to make me cry!” I bet she cried as she realized that her live action remake of Beauty and the Beast (iykyk) was overshadowed by sweet Holland’s birth announcement.
For once, Alec is all of us. Jesus, lady, give it a rest.
  • So, what’s a step-abuela to do? How to acknowledge the birth but keep the focus on the ostrich feathers? Simple – feature a picture of Alec and Hillary all dressed up literally clinging to all the kids to force a family picture. Now, Alec doesn’t know his ass from his elbow when it comes to SM but Hillary knows – what most people would do is repost the original post. It’s already public and it keeps the focus on the person you’re celebrating. But Hillary celebrates others by saying “happy (event)” then making the accompanying picture about her.
That grip on the little baby thigh : (
  • Consequently, Ireland’s new baby got one post from Abuela Hillary that featured Alec, the kids, and her, and Alec posted one picture of him and baby Ireland with the caption “my first baby had her first baby.” Hillary hasn’t liked or commented on any of Ireland’s grid posts about Holland. To put this in perspective, in May Alec posted about Rust 8 times, The Beatles 5 times, and his excruciatingly boring podcast 4 times. Are they happy about the baby? I’m sure they are. Do they know how to show that in ways that don’t involve Alec and Hillary being the main characters? No.
  • Perhaps felling particularly edgy after that drive to the PEN America Literary Gala where Hillary pouted about her red-carpet thunder being stolen by the coincidental timing of the birth announcement and fussed over her feathers, Alec lost his shit in the most Alec way possible: berating a server trying to do her job and speaking to her in a wildly demeaning and condescending manner.
  • According to what the server told Page Six, she was trying to serve the head of the table where Alec was standing and chatting with another guest. The server said, “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re going to have servers walking through the tables here in a minute.” Alec: (very agitated) “So when is it a good time to talk to my friends?" Server: speechless. Alec: “do I have to explain it to you?” Server: “No.” Alec: “Well then, step aside.” Later her coworkers told her he was “calling her a peasant.”
  • He didn't deny the interaction, but he did deny calling the server a peasant. He is despicable for talking to anyone this way. The fact that the media picked up this story as opposed to fawning over Hillary’s dress or her pose with the inspirational placard was chef’s kiss gold.
I absolutely believe Alec knows about sociopathy.
How you say...comedy gold?
  • All in the same day, the Undynamic Duo was seen in wild, Alec bashed Martha Ross (the ordacity), Hillary celebrated Ilaria’s 8 months of life by posting a carousel of 6 grid pix, one of which featured the true stars of any Hillary Lynn production: her “lactating” breasts. Where’s that bottle of Gatorade from the elevator pic?
Santa Híláríá de la Leche Materna Falsa.
  • Then came the video that launched parodies, articles, and posts galore: Hillary’s Humpty Dance (no offense, Digital Underground). Just as she posted herself filtered and angled to showcase an anatomically improbable tiny waist and claimed it was about her pants, or posted a shot of her cleavage and claimed it was about her kid’s 8-month birthday, here she was writhing around in her Victoria’s Secret bra and tiny tank top to garner compliments but pretending she’s invested in giving wellness advice.
  • All this accomplished was getting people talking about her yet again as “angry Alec Baldwin’s cringey wife who faked an accent and a heritage and now is doing (insert her antics here).” The subsequent loss of followers was icing on Hillary’s (zero calorie zero flavor) cake.
The creepy eye contact, dear Lord.
  • Celeste Barber (“We call this workout The Horny Teenager”) and Anna Roisman (“This ejercicia will help your back!”) NAILED their impersonations by capturing what makes Hillary so absurd: she has no self-awareness and no sense of humor - a mix that makes most of what she posts repeatedly miss the mark.
  • Her lil’ combo of hip thrusts and side-to sides, modified pushups with bewbs overflowing, and some leg flailing inspired fabulous comments. One person on Celeste’s page noted: “It might seem strange but this is how they work out in Spain,” and one on Anna’s page quipped: “I’m now pregnant with a Baldwinito after watching this.”
  • This cringefest was Hillary asking people to praise her for being skinny and sexy (ahem). Body positivity is great, but it is gaslighting when she (or any influencer) claims “anyone can look like me if they hydrate and do these simple exercises a few minutes day.” Hillary has disordered eating, exercises for hours daily while women of color raise her kids, and gets high-end cosmetic procedures to plump, fill, tuck, suck, brighten, and tighten. The shameful part is not that she does this stuff, it’s that she lies about it – poorly.
22 comments = .000022% of her followers.
  • MichWho tried to show up for Hilz after the humpy yoga debacle by posting this terrible picture that u/Queefer_Sutherland captioned “Easter Island Moai doing Munchausen Mami dirty” and I thought I had died and gone to pepino heaven.
Mich, girl, that witchy ship has sailed.
  • Of course, PeePaw had to weigh in on Tina Turner’s death by posting a throwback video of the two of them on SNL (he was the least interesting thing about that not so funny skit) and then stealing photographer Brian Hamill’s post about her. Quotation marks are free, Zander.
  • Then it was back to the PR plan with Alec posting a cut and paste tribute to his mom on the one-year anniversary of her passing, pictures of him and the older boys getting haircuts, and a pap walk with Alec finally, FINALLY, in sensible footwear for a man with hip and alignment issues and Hillary reluctantly sporting her “relatable mom jeans” (size 2 for all the fat, infertile Karens wondering, size 4 only when she’s hugely pregnant) and her insufferable “Keep Calm and Foca Playa” hat.
I spy with my little eye...
I like the ring of \"outrageous embellishments.\"
  • For last post of the month, Hillary chose a picture of her and Alec in the hospital as he recovers from hip replacement surgery which she claimed was “a long time necessary.” If ever we needed Cher to smack someone and yell, “snap out of it!” it is now.
Losing the fake accent has been a long time necessary, too, Hilz.
  • In the end, Hillary’s eyebrow fucker-upper* summed it up perfectly by commenting “Glad and happy all went well. Send him a speedy recovery. P.S. Your Brow’s! Brow’s Game Strong.” Wonky apostrophes aside, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Hillary’s blowout, lash extensions, micro bladed brows, and plumped lips are the stars and Aleek is a bit player. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.
*Forever in love with this term coined by u/-graphophobia-
submitted by Ready-Bat-8824 to HilariaBaldwin [link] [comments]


2023.06.01 22:52 tucker-ed-out Tonight at the Macon Arts Center! A live taped TV comedy special!

submitted by tucker-ed-out to macon [link] [comments]