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Little Afghan Girl's Gift (War/ Supernatural Encounter)

2020.09.04 16:06 Taxi_Dancer Little Afghan Girl's Gift (War/ Supernatural Encounter)

Little Afghan Girl’s Gift
I was the only American Soldier who was attached to an Italian motorized unit during a good-will humanitarian mission into the Zerkoh Valley of western Afghanistan. From our primary forward operating base camp, it was approximately 15 kilometers to the village of Masyan, located in an arid but reasonably fertile section of the valley. It was nearing harvest season, but Taliban insurgents had stolen all of the village’s farming and harvesting equipment in order to take the crops for themselves. The Italian Soldiers were delivering truck loads of brand new farming equipment to the villagers and had offered to send patrols to stand guard over the village while the villagers harvested their yearly crops. I had requested to tag along on this mission and my command very reluctantly gave their approval. The Zerkoh Valley wasn’t exactly the safest place in the world, located between Iran in the west who were infiltrating supplies to the Taliban and Taliban fighters in the east trying to escape the American surge which was pushing them out of their safe zones.
We travelled in two convoys, called chalks, as we headed to the village. I was originally scheduled to be in the first chalk which was the scouting element that was clearing a safe path for the second chalk which had the trucks filled with farming supplies for the villagers. As a US Army qualified 19 Delta Cavalry Scout, I figured that out front with the lead Italian element was where I’d do the most good. However, at the last minute, I was told by the Italians that I would be in the second chalk, as my American command thought it was far too dangerous for me to be in the lead chalk. Cursing my luck, and my command, I walked towards the back of the convoy which consisted of about twenty Italian wheeled vehicles, wheeled armored personnel carriers, and heavy transport trucks.
Because all NATO Soldiers trained to the same standards, I could see that the Italian Soldiers were just as proficient and professional as their American counterparts, if not more so. Without knowing how to speak the language, I could already tell that the Italian NCOs were conducting their pre-combat PCCs and PCIs (pre-combat checks and pre-combat inspections), conducting before action PMCS (preventive maintenance checks and services) on their vehicles, and functions checks on their heavy weapons. Additionally, Italian officers were verifying that communications and GPS systems were operational and vehicle manifests were confirmed, just as we did in the US military. The Italian convoy commander was a very good natured NCO and offered me a seat in his vehicle. If I couldn’t be at the head of the lead chalk, at least I’d be in the head of the second chalk. I gratefully accepted and climbed into the Italian wheeled vehicle, wearing my sixty-pounds of equipment, gear and body armor and carrying my trusty M4 rifle with M203 40mike-mike under slung grenade launcher. The vehicle we were driving was an Iveco Light Multirole Vehicle, or LMV. It was used in the similar mission that the US Army uses the Humvee. The Iveco mounted a .50. cal. M2 heavy machine gun, but was not nearly as heavily armored as the US Humvee or as wide.
It was a little after seven in the morning when the first Italian chalk pulled out of the Italian base camp and exited the main gate which was guarded by my American ECP teams. About fifteen minutes later, the second chalk pulled out and we set off into enemy territory, also known as Indian Country. We followed Highway 1, Afghanistan’s main paved highway, for about two miles before suddenly turning off road and going cross country over open desert. We followed in the tracks of chalk one and, although the chances of hitting an IED in the middle of the open landscape was rare, we were still weary and watchful. We were about two miles into the open desert, paralleling a goat trail about 100 meters to our right and a walled village about a half mile distant built in the shade of an orange mountain.
WHOOM!
A muffled explosion rocked the ground. We weren’t hit, but an explosion did occur. The radio lit up with reports of an IED hitting a vehicle from the first chalk. We halted our chalk and cautiously dismounted our vehicles, scanning out to 5 meter, 10 meter, 15 meter and 20 meters in front of us for IEDs before we stepped on the ground. A thin plume of smoke billowed up about a mile in the distance. Pulling out my binos, I looked towards the smoke and I saw the movement of other vehicles from the first chalk, but not the stricken vehicle. They were still small in my view, so I couldn’t make out any details, nor could I make out if we had taken casualties. Suddenly, I noticed a glint to my right and trained my binos on top of the roof of one of the two story buildings in the walled village. A bearded man with a radio and binoculars was looking at our stopped convoy and yelling into his radio. I quickly gave my binos to the Italian convoy commander, pointing at the enemy spotter on the roof a half mile away. He shouted a warning into his radio and every second gunner in the convoy pointed their .50 cal. machine guns at the spotter. The other gunners kept a watchful eye out for a potential ambush as the enemy spotter, upon seeing that we were on to him, threw down the radio and the binoculars and ran across the stone balcony and disappeared into a wooden door. Within minutes, an A129 Mangusta Italian attack helicopter was circling overhead, the pilot radioing us and saying that the path was clear of ambushes to the site of the first chalk.
Soon, we were moving again to the site of the IED strike. The first chalk was also moving, slower this time, towards Masyan village. In minutes, we had caught up to where the IED had exploded. An Iveco LMV, the one I was supposed to be in earlier, was sitting in a rocky depression, its front axles blown out. Fortunately, the IED which it hit was a small one, not designed to destroy a vehicle, but to damage it. The Taliban was letting us know that they were watching. Two Italian Freccia wheeled infantry fighting vehicles had secured the site and were working to get the vehicle towed back to the base. None of the Italians in that vehicle were severely injured as the driver and the gunner were arguing over who should have seen the IED first. A few things bothered me. One, How did they know we were coming this way at this time, out in the middle of open desert? We weren’t on any marked trails or roads. Two, if they knew we were coming, why didn’t they plant a larger IED? Why plant such a small IED. Three, the Afghan National Army, the ANA, were the only other ones who knew when and where we were coming. They were supposed to watch the approach route. What happened to them?
As our chalk passed the IED strike site, I took a few pictures of the scene through the wire mesh screen of the armored window. Masyan Village was a few more kilometers away. By then, the first chalk had entered the village and sent out Soldiers to stand guard around the perimeter. Masyan was an ancient village made of rough hewn brick and white stone. The narrow dirt track leading into the main village square ran between two worn down and broken stone walls which opened onto a flat dirt surface. The villagers were gathered there and they greeted us warmly. Immediately, the Italian Soldiers greeted the children, handing out water and treats while the Italian senior leaders met with the village leadership. The villagers were separated by family and lined up as the Italian trucks backed into the village square and Italian Soldiers who weren’t on guard duty were busy preparing to hand out the farming equipment. ANA soldiers were also in the village and I assumed that they were supposed to have been the one’s watching the approach route. They did nothing to help, neither standing guard nor handing out farming equipment or bags of rice and seeds. They simply stood around the villagers, looking intimidating at them. I thought this to be curious behavior and I was tempted to grab one of our interpreters so that I could talk with one of the ANA soldiers to see if they knew anything about an IED that was recently planted along our supposedly secured approach route, a route which the ANA had also crossed and one which they reported as supposedly cleared.
It was then that I noticed a little girl standing somewhat away from the rest of the children. She was around four years old, with olive colored skin, light curly brown hair and bright green eyes. She was dressed in her finest clothing, a light, loose fabric of reds and greens and whites and white sandals. In this harsh land of war and sadness, she flashed me the biggest smile that she could. Smiling from ear to ear, she waved enthusiastically at me and pointed at her right shoulder. She then pointed at my right shoulder. My right shoulder, where my American flag patch was placed.
I smiled back at her, looking for her father so that I could ask permission to give his daughter a gift of bottles of cold water, sweet cakes, and other treats. In Afghanistan, the family unit is extremely important, and showing respect to parents is highly regarded by the villagers. All of a sudden, one of the ANA soldiers, the one which was staring daggers into the villagers, approached the young girl from behind and raised his AK47. With all his might, he brought the wooden butt of the rifle down on the back of the girl’s head with a loud crack. The sweet, smiling, little girl fell down in a heap on the ground.
Now, I have absolutely no idea what happened after that or how much time had elapsed. All I remember was literally seeing red and locking and loading my M4. When I regained my senses, the big, bearded ANA soldier was on his back on the ground, my left boot was crunching his left wrist into the rocks, my right knee was on his chest, and I my M4 was pointing into his mouth. Three Italian Soldiers were trying to get me off him, their M249 Squad Automatic Weapon gunner saying that this is how it is like for the kids in Afghanistan. Another Italian Soldier pointed to the girl. “Look, Sergeant. She is fine. The kids here, they have very thick skulls.”
A female Italian medic was treating the little girl, putting a thick gauze and wrap around the girl’s head. The little girl was frowning, staring angrily at the ANA soldier who had sucker punched her. I allowed the Italians to pull me off the ANA soldier, but I grabbed the interpreter.
“Tell that soldier that I’ll be watching him,” I said, knife handing the ANA soldier as his comrades pulled him up off the ground.
The interpreter spoke nervously to the ANA soldier, and he responded angrily, pointing at me. The interpreter turned pale then looked at me.
“Sir,” the interpreter said. “He says that he also knows you. He says he knows that you are part of the base security, and that he will be watching you.”
“Good,” I said. If I was getting a reputation amongst suspected Taliban infiltrators, then our base security forces were making life difficult for them. “You tell him that next time I catch him alone, I want to ask him a few questions about an IED we encountered on the way up here. The one that he planted.”
The interpreter looked at me with a shocked expression. If he were to say that to a suspected Taliban insurgent wearing ANA clothing, the interpreter’s life would be in serious danger. Already, we had interpreters killed who had warned us of ANA soldiers suspected of being Taliban insurgents. Still, he turned to face the ANA soldier in order to do his job. I stopped the interpreter and shook my head, much to his relief. I pointed at the ANA imposter, glaring at him. He simply spit on the ground and walked around the back the small, one room school that butted up against the stone wall surrounding the village square.
“I think it might be best for you to take perimeter security,” said the Italian convoy commander silently as he approached me.
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” I said. “That was attempted murder of a child.”
“Don’t be sorry,” said the Lieutenant. “I agree with you. I’ve noticed that man’s actions before. Every time we go on a mission and he is part of the ANA which are supposed to be helping us, something always goes terribly wrong.”
“Can’t we pull him?” I asked.
“No,” said the Lieutenant. “Regretfully, he is an ANA senior sergeant and a favorite of the ANA commander, Colonel Hasan. I believe he is actually related to the colonel. Don’t worry though. I’ll have a squad of my men watching him.”
I nodded and walked across the village square past dozens of farming families waiting patiently in line under the hot, dry sun to receive their new farming tools and bags of rice, grains, and seeds. On the other side of the dirt road, small flowering gardens and low stone walls surrounded five or six ancient looking white stone houses. I imagine that this was pretty much the way things might have looked during the Biblical days, well, except for the satellite dishes on the roofs. Walking across a field of green scrub brush I joined a squad of four Italian Soldiers facing out across a green pasture of crops waiting to be harvested. In the distance was a rocky foothill with a small waterfall which fed into a stream running along its base. It was, in reality, a completely beautiful sight, untouched and unspoiled by the hands of modern man.
“It is good that you hit that man,” said the Italian Soldier who was standing next to me. She was petite, with tanned skin, a pointed nose, hazel eyes, and long wisps of reddish brown hair that snuck out from under her combat helmet, and like most of the Italian female Soldiers in their battalion, she looked like she could star in a Hollywood action movie. I recognized her as a squad leader and she cradled in her arms an M249 squad automatic weapon. “I do not trust that one.” She said, pointing with her chin in the direction to the ANA soldier I had put on the ground.
“You’ve worked with him before?” I asked.
“Only once before. I didn’t like how he looked at me,” she said. “He had eyes like a snake.”
There was a scowl on her face. “He said his men had checked the area, and that there were no IEDs. That was the day that our Master Sergeant was killed. He was blown up by an IED.”
“I’ve got my eye on that one,” I promised.
“Eh,” she said. “Better if you had just shot him.”
We stood guard over the village and the delivery of the farming supplies for the next three hours until finally, the last piece of equipment and the last bag of rice was handed out. By then, it was late afternoon and the Italians were securing the area and preparing to depart. I was still fuming, alternately looking to find the ANA soldier who had struck the little girl as well as the little girl herself. The group of ANA soldiers, of which there were about a dozen, stood off to the side by the gap in the wall to the village square next to two worn down Toyota Hillux pickup trucks. They were eyeing the Italians suspiciously, and the Italians were keeping a wary eye on them as well. The ANA had wanted to leave early and return to the base, ever since they heard that the Italians had struck an IED, but the Italian mission commander kept them close by, wanting to keep an eye on them during the rough, cross country ride back to base. He didn’t want another “accidental” encounter with an IED.
As I was climbing into my vehicle, the interpreter came up to me, holding something colorful in his hand. He handed it to me and said, “This from her and her mother,” he said, pointing to a small dwelling across from the school yard. Inside the door frame, I saw the little girl who had smiled at me earlier, with a big white bandage covering half her face. She was ducking behind the corner but was still smiling and waving. I waved back, feeling immensely guilty for being the reason why she was hit by the fake ANA soldier. I looked down at the gift. It was a doll made of strong straw and was dressed in the same colorful fabric as the clothing the little girl wore. On the doll’s head was woven red yarn to resemble her reddish hair.
“She made that for you,” said the interpreter. “Her mother said that it will protect you from snakes.”
I held the doll up to my heart and waved back towards the little girl. Her mother came to the thick wooden door, nodded to me slightly, then shut it behind her. I turned and glared in the direction of the ANA as they mounted up on their trucks and led the way back to base. One of them was a traitor and the rest of them said nothing. It wasn’t over between me and the one who hit that little girl, not by a long shot.
The weeks following the mission I returned to my normal duties at base security operations. Needless to say, because of the operational security of our mission, I will not go into any details as to how we conducted operations. Suffice it to say that we had many assets with which to defend the base and the perimeter, including heavily armored Humvees mounting a variety of weapons, as well as M-ATVs which was basically a combination of a Humvee and a giant dune buggy with lots of armor and which was mine resistant. Like our armored Humvees, they could mount anything from heavy machine guns, automatic grenade launchers, to Gatling guns. We had loaned four of these M-ATV’s to the nearby Special Forces camp and they ended up welding mounts on them to pack on even more heavy weapons as well as bolted on even more armor. In the end, those four M-ATVs looked less like military vehicles and more like Mad Max vehicles which were jacked on steroids and road rage. The M-ATV was the work horse in Afghanistan and we used these rugged, multi-role assault vehicles for everything from convoy security, patrols, and highway mine clearance. I took the doll which the little girl had made for me and hung it from the sun visor in the truck commander’s seat.
Our security operations compound was surrounded by high, prefabricated walls known as Hesco barriers. These walls were made of a thick, durable canvas fabric caged inside a heavy duty aluminum mesh. Once emplaced, they are filled with sand and gravel and would create an instant wall barrier that provided protection against small arms fire, heavy machine gun fire and indirect mortar fire. Placed side by side and even stacked one on top of another, a Hesco barrier defense can create an instant fire base or defensive fighting position almost anywhere. One side of our Hesco barriers lined a narrow paved road. On the other side of the road was another line of Hesco barriers that formed the perimeter of the ANA compound. The narrow road ended at a T-junction and, because the Hesco barriers went straight to the turn, they created a blind spot in that part of the road.
It was late in the afternoon on one particular day and I was eager to start my shift. I had chosen to work security operations at night not because the temperature was cooler and more pleasant, but because that was when the Taliban were the most active. There were rumors that ANA officers were cracking down on Taliban fighters who were infiltrating into the ANA ranks and there had been mass desertions of ANA soldiers who, presumably were Taliban in disguise. Talk had been spreading among our interpreters that the ANA soldier whom I had encountered in Masyan village had even threatened to kill the commanding officer of our base security. There were four of us in the M-ATV, myself, my driver up front, and two riflemen in the back as we approached the blind spot in the road on the way to the security operations compound.
My driver had to inch forward in order to see around the corner and honked the horn of the M-ATV. I also looked right to make sure that the path was clear when, all of a sudden, I heard the roar of a moped engine speeding in our direction. My driver honked the horn again, but the bearded ANA solder didn’t stop, instead speeding up even more and actually turning in order to hit my truck commander compartment. I immediately lowered my window to try to get a shot at the guy, but knowing that he was going to hit us before I could.
The impact sent the moped careening into the Hesco barrier on our side of the road. It impacted so hard that it bounced off the ground and hit the Hesco barrier on the ANA side of the road where it lay in a smoking heap. I climbed out of the M-ATV, my rifle pointed at the ANA soldier. Most of him was laid out in a bloody pile on the road, looking like a deflated blow-up doll with what arms and legs that were still attached to his torso splayed out in impossible angles. Sure enough, it was the ANA soldier from Masyan village whom I suspected to be a traitor. I looked back at my M-ATV. There was absolutely no damage on it at all. This should have been impossible, given how hard the impact on the scooter had tossed it across both sides of the road. But there wasn’t even a scratch on the paint. The ANA soldier had hit something hard, but it wasn’t us. It was like he struck, for lack of a better term, an invisible wall.
Later on, the investigation found that the twenty pounds of explosives which had been strapped on the moped, explosives stolen from the ANA armory, had failed to detonate from the impact. In addition, another traitor disguised as an ANA soldier was arrested. He was in one of the ANA guard towers, observing us and radioing to the now splattered Taliban infiltrator on the location of our M-ATV so that he could ram us at the blind turn.
My security teams kept watch as we made the ANA explosive disposal unit, or EOD, secure the VBIED, or vehicle borne IED, and secure it with the Italians. Meanwhile their ANA compatriots scooped up the mess of the Taliban insurgent off the road with shovels and unceremoniously dumped the remains in a rubber bag. The doll that the little girl made for me swayed gently in the cool evening breeze inside the cab of my armored M-ATV- the doll which had protected me from snakes. I did not travel back to Masyan Village, having spent the rest of the deployment focused strictly on base defense, but I prayed for that little child’s safety for many years after, even through subsequent deployments back to the Middle East.
Post script-
A few years later, after a tour of duty in Iraq, I flew to the city of Hannover in Germany to blow off steam and get away for a while. Walking down the famous party district called the Stein Tur (the Stone Door) I saw a block down the street a restaurant and bakery called the Herat Bakery. Now, Herat Province was where my forward operating base was located when I served in Afghanistan. The smells of baked breads and roasted meats on the spit were wonderful and brought back a few fond memories of that mostly miserable deployment and of a little girl who had woven for me a colorful gift. I stepped into the shop as I had missed the locally baked flat bread in Herat, and instantly smiled, fighting to stop the tears from running down my face. A little girl with familiar bright green eyes and curly light brown hair, a few years older now, stood with her mother behind the counter and waved at me with a bright smile.
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2020.09.04 16:05 Taxi_Dancer Little Afghan Girl's Gift (War/ Supernatural Encounter)

Little Afghan Girl’s Gift
I was the only American Soldier who was attached to an Italian motorized unit during a good-will humanitarian mission into the Zerkoh Valley of western Afghanistan. From our primary forward operating base camp, it was approximately 15 kilometers to the village of Masyan, located in an arid but reasonably fertile section of the valley. It was nearing harvest season, but Taliban insurgents had stolen all of the village’s farming and harvesting equipment in order to take the crops for themselves. The Italian Soldiers were delivering truck loads of brand new farming equipment to the villagers and had offered to send patrols to stand guard over the village while the villagers harvested their yearly crops. I had requested to tag along on this mission and my command very reluctantly gave their approval. The Zerkoh Valley wasn’t exactly the safest place in the world, located between Iran in the west who were infiltrating supplies to the Taliban and Taliban fighters in the east trying to escape the American surge which was pushing them out of their safe zones.
We travelled in two convoys, called chalks, as we headed to the village. I was originally scheduled to be in the first chalk which was the scouting element that was clearing a safe path for the second chalk which had the trucks filled with farming supplies for the villagers. As a US Army qualified 19 Delta Cavalry Scout, I figured that out front with the lead Italian element was where I’d do the most good. However, at the last minute, I was told by the Italians that I would be in the second chalk, as my American command thought it was far too dangerous for me to be in the lead chalk. Cursing my luck, and my command, I walked towards the back of the convoy which consisted of about twenty Italian wheeled vehicles, wheeled armored personnel carriers, and heavy transport trucks.
Because all NATO Soldiers trained to the same standards, I could see that the Italian Soldiers were just as proficient and professional as their American counterparts, if not more so. Without knowing how to speak the language, I could already tell that the Italian NCOs were conducting their pre-combat PCCs and PCIs (pre-combat checks and pre-combat inspections), conducting before action PMCS (preventive maintenance checks and services) on their vehicles, and functions checks on their heavy weapons. Additionally, Italian officers were verifying that communications and GPS systems were operational and vehicle manifests were confirmed, just as we did in the US military. The Italian convoy commander was a very good natured NCO and offered me a seat in his vehicle. If I couldn’t be at the head of the lead chalk, at least I’d be in the head of the second chalk. I gratefully accepted and climbed into the Italian wheeled vehicle, wearing my sixty-pounds of equipment, gear and body armor and carrying my trusty M4 rifle with M203 40mike-mike under slung grenade launcher. The vehicle we were driving was an Iveco Light Multirole Vehicle, or LMV. It was used in the similar mission that the US Army uses the Humvee. The Iveco mounted a .50. cal. M2 heavy machine gun, but was not nearly as heavily armored as the US Humvee or as wide.
It was a little after seven in the morning when the first Italian chalk pulled out of the Italian base camp and exited the main gate which was guarded by my American ECP teams. About fifteen minutes later, the second chalk pulled out and we set off into enemy territory, also known as Indian Country. We followed Highway 1, Afghanistan’s main paved highway, for about two miles before suddenly turning off road and going cross country over open desert. We followed in the tracks of chalk one and, although the chances of hitting an IED in the middle of the open landscape was rare, we were still weary and watchful. We were about two miles into the open desert, paralleling a goat trail about 100 meters to our right and a walled village about a half mile distant built in the shade of an orange mountain.
WHOOM!
A muffled explosion rocked the ground. We weren’t hit, but an explosion did occur. The radio lit up with reports of an IED hitting a vehicle from the first chalk. We halted our chalk and cautiously dismounted our vehicles, scanning out to 5 meter, 10 meter, 15 meter and 20 meters in front of us for IEDs before we stepped on the ground. A thin plume of smoke billowed up about a mile in the distance. Pulling out my binos, I looked towards the smoke and I saw the movement of other vehicles from the first chalk, but not the stricken vehicle. They were still small in my view, so I couldn’t make out any details, nor could I make out if we had taken casualties. Suddenly, I noticed a glint to my right and trained my binos on top of the roof of one of the two story buildings in the walled village. A bearded man with a radio and binoculars was looking at our stopped convoy and yelling into his radio. I quickly gave my binos to the Italian convoy commander, pointing at the enemy spotter on the roof a half mile away. He shouted a warning into his radio and every second gunner in the convoy pointed their .50 cal. machine guns at the spotter. The other gunners kept a watchful eye out for a potential ambush as the enemy spotter, upon seeing that we were on to him, threw down the radio and the binoculars and ran across the stone balcony and disappeared into a wooden door. Within minutes, an A129 Mangusta Italian attack helicopter was circling overhead, the pilot radioing us and saying that the path was clear of ambushes to the site of the first chalk.
Soon, we were moving again to the site of the IED strike. The first chalk was also moving, slower this time, towards Masyan village. In minutes, we had caught up to where the IED had exploded. An Iveco LMV, the one I was supposed to be in earlier, was sitting in a rocky depression, its front axles blown out. Fortunately, the IED which it hit was a small one, not designed to destroy a vehicle, but to damage it. The Taliban was letting us know that they were watching. Two Italian Freccia wheeled infantry fighting vehicles had secured the site and were working to get the vehicle towed back to the base. None of the Italians in that vehicle were severely injured as the driver and the gunner were arguing over who should have seen the IED first. A few things bothered me. One, How did they know we were coming this way at this time, out in the middle of open desert? We weren’t on any marked trails or roads. Two, if they knew we were coming, why didn’t they plant a larger IED? Why plant such a small IED. Three, the Afghan National Army, the ANA, were the only other ones who knew when and where we were coming. They were supposed to watch the approach route. What happened to them?
As our chalk passed the IED strike site, I took a few pictures of the scene through the wire mesh screen of the armored window. Masyan Village was a few more kilometers away. By then, the first chalk had entered the village and sent out Soldiers to stand guard around the perimeter. Masyan was an ancient village made of rough hewn brick and white stone. The narrow dirt track leading into the main village square ran between two worn down and broken stone walls which opened onto a flat dirt surface. The villagers were gathered there and they greeted us warmly. Immediately, the Italian Soldiers greeted the children, handing out water and treats while the Italian senior leaders met with the village leadership. The villagers were separated by family and lined up as the Italian trucks backed into the village square and Italian Soldiers who weren’t on guard duty were busy preparing to hand out the farming equipment. ANA soldiers were also in the village and I assumed that they were supposed to have been the one’s watching the approach route. They did nothing to help, neither standing guard nor handing out farming equipment or bags of rice and seeds. They simply stood around the villagers, looking intimidating at them. I thought this to be curious behavior and I was tempted to grab one of our interpreters so that I could talk with one of the ANA soldiers to see if they knew anything about an IED that was recently planted along our supposedly secured approach route, a route which the ANA had also crossed and one which they reported as supposedly cleared.
It was then that I noticed a little girl standing somewhat away from the rest of the children. She was around four years old, with olive colored skin, light curly brown hair and bright green eyes. She was dressed in her finest clothing, a light, loose fabric of reds and greens and whites and white sandals. In this harsh land of war and sadness, she flashed me the biggest smile that she could. Smiling from ear to ear, she waved enthusiastically at me and pointed at her right shoulder. She then pointed at my right shoulder. My right shoulder, where my American flag patch was placed.
I smiled back at her, looking for her father so that I could ask permission to give his daughter a gift of bottles of cold water, sweet cakes, and other treats. In Afghanistan, the family unit is extremely important, and showing respect to parents is highly regarded by the villagers. All of a sudden, one of the ANA soldiers, the one which was staring daggers into the villagers, approached the young girl from behind and raised his AK47. With all his might, he brought the wooden butt of the rifle down on the back of the girl’s head with a loud crack. The sweet, smiling, little girl fell down in a heap on the ground.
Now, I have absolutely no idea what happened after that or how much time had elapsed. All I remember was literally seeing red and locking and loading my M4. When I regained my senses, the big, bearded ANA soldier was on his back on the ground, my left boot was crunching his left wrist into the rocks, my right knee was on his chest, and I my M4 was pointing into his mouth. Three Italian Soldiers were trying to get me off him, their M249 Squad Automatic Weapon gunner saying that this is how it is like for the kids in Afghanistan. Another Italian Soldier pointed to the girl. “Look, Sergeant. She is fine. The kids here, they have very thick skulls.”
A female Italian medic was treating the little girl, putting a thick gauze and wrap around the girl’s head. The little girl was frowning, staring angrily at the ANA soldier who had sucker punched her. I allowed the Italians to pull me off the ANA soldier, but I grabbed the interpreter.
“Tell that soldier that I’ll be watching him,” I said, knife handing the ANA soldier as his comrades pulled him up off the ground.
The interpreter spoke nervously to the ANA soldier, and he responded angrily, pointing at me. The interpreter turned pale then looked at me.
“Sir,” the interpreter said. “He says that he also knows you. He says he knows that you are part of the base security, and that he will be watching you.”
“Good,” I said. If I was getting a reputation amongst suspected Taliban infiltrators, then our base security forces were making life difficult for them. “You tell him that next time I catch him alone, I want to ask him a few questions about an IED we encountered on the way up here. The one that he planted.”
The interpreter looked at me with a shocked expression. If he were to say that to a suspected Taliban insurgent wearing ANA clothing, the interpreter’s life would be in serious danger. Already, we had interpreters killed who had warned us of ANA soldiers suspected of being Taliban insurgents. Still, he turned to face the ANA soldier in order to do his job. I stopped the interpreter and shook my head, much to his relief. I pointed at the ANA imposter, glaring at him. He simply spit on the ground and walked around the back the small, one room school that butted up against the stone wall surrounding the village square.
“I think it might be best for you to take perimeter security,” said the Italian convoy commander silently as he approached me.
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” I said. “That was attempted murder of a child.”
“Don’t be sorry,” said the Lieutenant. “I agree with you. I’ve noticed that man’s actions before. Every time we go on a mission and he is part of the ANA which are supposed to be helping us, something always goes terribly wrong.”
“Can’t we pull him?” I asked.
“No,” said the Lieutenant. “Regretfully, he is an ANA senior sergeant and a favorite of the ANA commander, Colonel Hasan. I believe he is actually related to the colonel. Don’t worry though. I’ll have a squad of my men watching him.”
I nodded and walked across the village square past dozens of farming families waiting patiently in line under the hot, dry sun to receive their new farming tools and bags of rice, grains, and seeds. On the other side of the dirt road, small flowering gardens and low stone walls surrounded five or six ancient looking white stone houses. I imagine that this was pretty much the way things might have looked during the Biblical days, well, except for the satellite dishes on the roofs. Walking across a field of green scrub brush I joined a squad of four Italian Soldiers facing out across a green pasture of crops waiting to be harvested. In the distance was a rocky foothill with a small waterfall which fed into a stream running along its base. It was, in reality, a completely beautiful sight, untouched and unspoiled by the hands of modern man.
“It is good that you hit that man,” said the Italian Soldier who was standing next to me. She was petite, with tanned skin, a pointed nose, hazel eyes, and long wisps of reddish brown hair that snuck out from under her combat helmet, and like most of the Italian female Soldiers in their battalion, she looked like she could star in a Hollywood action movie. I recognized her as a squad leader and she cradled in her arms an M249 squad automatic weapon. “I do not trust that one.” She said, pointing with her chin in the direction to the ANA soldier I had put on the ground.
“You’ve worked with him before?” I asked.
“Only once before. I didn’t like how he looked at me,” she said. “He had eyes like a snake.”
There was a scowl on her face. “He said his men had checked the area, and that there were no IEDs. That was the day that our Master Sergeant was killed. He was blown up by an IED.”
“I’ve got my eye on that one,” I promised.
“Eh,” she said. “Better if you had just shot him.”
We stood guard over the village and the delivery of the farming supplies for the next three hours until finally, the last piece of equipment and the last bag of rice was handed out. By then, it was late afternoon and the Italians were securing the area and preparing to depart. I was still fuming, alternately looking to find the ANA soldier who had struck the little girl as well as the little girl herself. The group of ANA soldiers, of which there were about a dozen, stood off to the side by the gap in the wall to the village square next to two worn down Toyota Hillux pickup trucks. They were eyeing the Italians suspiciously, and the Italians were keeping a wary eye on them as well. The ANA had wanted to leave early and return to the base, ever since they heard that the Italians had struck an IED, but the Italian mission commander kept them close by, wanting to keep an eye on them during the rough, cross country ride back to base. He didn’t want another “accidental” encounter with an IED.
As I was climbing into my vehicle, the interpreter came up to me, holding something colorful in his hand. He handed it to me and said, “This from her and her mother,” he said, pointing to a small dwelling across from the school yard. Inside the door frame, I saw the little girl who had smiled at me earlier, with a big white bandage covering half her face. She was ducking behind the corner but was still smiling and waving. I waved back, feeling immensely guilty for being the reason why she was hit by the fake ANA soldier. I looked down at the gift. It was a doll made of strong straw and was dressed in the same colorful fabric as the clothing the little girl wore. On the doll’s head was woven red yarn to resemble her reddish hair.
“She made that for you,” said the interpreter. “Her mother said that it will protect you from snakes.”
I held the doll up to my heart and waved back towards the little girl. Her mother came to the thick wooden door, nodded to me slightly, then shut it behind her. I turned and glared in the direction of the ANA as they mounted up on their trucks and led the way back to base. One of them was a traitor and the rest of them said nothing. It wasn’t over between me and the one who hit that little girl, not by a long shot.
The weeks following the mission I returned to my normal duties at base security operations. Needless to say, because of the operational security of our mission, I will not go into any details as to how we conducted operations. Suffice it to say that we had many assets with which to defend the base and the perimeter, including heavily armored Humvees mounting a variety of weapons, as well as M-ATVs which was basically a combination of a Humvee and a giant dune buggy with lots of armor and which was mine resistant. Like our armored Humvees, they could mount anything from heavy machine guns, automatic grenade launchers, to Gatling guns. We had loaned four of these M-ATV’s to the nearby Special Forces camp and they ended up welding mounts on them to pack on even more heavy weapons as well as bolted on even more armor. In the end, those four M-ATVs looked less like military vehicles and more like Mad Max vehicles which were jacked on steroids and road rage. The M-ATV was the work horse in Afghanistan and we used these rugged, multi-role assault vehicles for everything from convoy security, patrols, and highway mine clearance. I took the doll which the little girl had made for me and hung it from the sun visor in the truck commander’s seat.
Our security operations compound was surrounded by high, prefabricated walls known as Hesco barriers. These walls were made of a thick, durable canvas fabric caged inside a heavy duty aluminum mesh. Once emplaced, they are filled with sand and gravel and would create an instant wall barrier that provided protection against small arms fire, heavy machine gun fire and indirect mortar fire. Placed side by side and even stacked one on top of another, a Hesco barrier defense can create an instant fire base or defensive fighting position almost anywhere. One side of our Hesco barriers lined a narrow paved road. On the other side of the road was another line of Hesco barriers that formed the perimeter of the ANA compound. The narrow road ended at a T-junction and, because the Hesco barriers went straight to the turn, they created a blind spot in that part of the road.
It was late in the afternoon on one particular day and I was eager to start my shift. I had chosen to work security operations at night not because the temperature was cooler and more pleasant, but because that was when the Taliban were the most active. There were rumors that ANA officers were cracking down on Taliban fighters who were infiltrating into the ANA ranks and there had been mass desertions of ANA soldiers who, presumably were Taliban in disguise. Talk had been spreading among our interpreters that the ANA soldier whom I had encountered in Masyan village had even threatened to kill the commanding officer of our base security. There were four of us in the M-ATV, myself, my driver up front, and two riflemen in the back as we approached the blind spot in the road on the way to the security operations compound.
My driver had to inch forward in order to see around the corner and honked the horn of the M-ATV. I also looked right to make sure that the path was clear when, all of a sudden, I heard the roar of a moped engine speeding in our direction. My driver honked the horn again, but the bearded ANA solder didn’t stop, instead speeding up even more and actually turning in order to hit my truck commander compartment. I immediately lowered my window to try to get a shot at the guy, but knowing that he was going to hit us before I could.
The impact sent the moped careening into the Hesco barrier on our side of the road. It impacted so hard that it bounced off the ground and hit the Hesco barrier on the ANA side of the road where it lay in a smoking heap. I climbed out of the M-ATV, my rifle pointed at the ANA soldier. Most of him was laid out in a bloody pile on the road, looking like a deflated blow-up doll with what arms and legs that were still attached to his torso splayed out in impossible angles. Sure enough, it was the ANA soldier from Masyan village whom I suspected to be a traitor. I looked back at my M-ATV. There was absolutely no damage on it at all. This should have been impossible, given how hard the impact on the scooter had tossed it across both sides of the road. But there wasn’t even a scratch on the paint. The ANA soldier had hit something hard, but it wasn’t us. It was like he struck, for lack of a better term, an invisible wall.
Later on, the investigation found that the twenty pounds of explosives which had been strapped on the moped, explosives stolen from the ANA armory, had failed to detonate from the impact. In addition, another traitor disguised as an ANA soldier was arrested. He was in one of the ANA guard towers, observing us and radioing to the now splattered Taliban infiltrator on the location of our M-ATV so that he could ram us at the blind turn.
My security teams kept watch as we made the ANA explosive disposal unit, or EOD, secure the VBIED, or vehicle borne IED, and secure it with the Italians. Meanwhile their ANA compatriots scooped up the mess of the Taliban insurgent off the road with shovels and unceremoniously dumped the remains in a rubber bag. The doll that the little girl made for me swayed gently in the cool evening breeze inside the cab of my armored M-ATV- the doll which had protected me from snakes. I did not travel back to Masyan Village, having spent the rest of the deployment focused strictly on base defense, but I prayed for that little child’s safety for many years after, even through subsequent deployments back to the Middle East.
Post script-
A few years later, after a tour of duty in Iraq, I flew to the city of Hannover in Germany to blow off steam and get away for a while. Walking down the famous party district called the Stein Tur (the Stone Door) I saw a block down the street a restaurant and bakery called the Herat Bakery. Now, Herat Province was where my forward operating base was located when I served in Afghanistan. The smells of baked breads and roasted meats on the spit were wonderful and brought back a few fond memories of that mostly miserable deployment and of a little girl who had woven for me a colorful gift. I stepped into the shop as I had missed the locally baked flat bread in Herat, and instantly smiled, fighting to stop the tears from running down my face. A little girl with familiar bright green eyes and curly light brown hair, a few years older now, stood with her mother behind the counter and waved at me with a bright smile.
submitted by Taxi_Dancer to DarknessPrevails [link] [comments]


2020.06.20 22:54 pinky_throwaway_2003 [Rant] [O levels] Same ol vicious cycle, long post

Background: I took a year off to get my head straight after going through more than 3 years of living hell in sec school.
I never liked my secondary school. From the first day, the buildings just seemed to give off evil aura. My head just felt that something wasn't right, something bad was going to happen. A gut feel, as I would say. But, nothing happened. So I couldn't do anything but to wait like a sitting duck to what's to happen. In hindsight, I wished I had listened to my own gut feeling and transfered AWAY from the school. Hindsight always give you a 20/20 view, as they say.
It started with the small things, friends backstabbing. That's how I started secondary 2. Certain friend, who I shall refer her as W, wasn't happy that I was sitting with another friend in class, so she complained to the teacher, told her I was 'bullying' her. Forced me to go thru 'mediation' until my mother had it and told the teachers to 'fuck themselves' in a politically correct manner.
W and I patched, but that's not the end of the story. I had quit my former CCA, and joined scouts. W also did that too, so we ended up as CCA mates. I was... uncomfortable... so I just avoided her. W was the one who initiated the conversation, I just rode along. Hindsight again, I wished I had better taste in friends.
Scouts, oh darned scouts. That's when I met T, the 'golden' boy and fellow member of the CCA I was attending. Yet again it started with the small things, like him catcalling and him making all sorts of lewd comments about my body. I didn't think of much, as what the teachers said, 'boys will be boys.'
I soon quit scouts due to even more drama brought indirectly by W. In my 'resignation' letter, I wrote about what W's friend did, as well as what T said. Yet again being the foolish sec 2, I didn't 'capture evidence' and just handed the resignation letter as it is.
It soon progresses into 'accidentally' or should I say, planned 'accidents'. Once brush, close an eye. Twice touch, it's a lie. I didn't know how to approach it. I don't have evidence, or even one witness. I chose to remain silent, which is something I still regret to this day.
I started with a goal in mind for secondary 3. To get my 2 CCA points, clock as much volunteer hours and maintain at least As and Bs overall. Hah, as if I could achieve such godly goals.
Then, the opportunity came. The scouts teacher, Miss T, persuaded me to return, in exchange for a leadership position, in her words 'I guarantee you 2 points'. I bit onto her bait hard, like a trusting moron. I told her about what T tried to do to me in sec 2, because I trusted her. She told me she'll settle it.
She never did.
The smaller problems snowballed from just words to action. T starts with random touches up the forbidden area. I couldn't scream for help, cause my voice just drowned out in a crowded canteen. The irony, I know.
It happened in broad daylight again, this time in front of my class. He rubbed possible human reproduction material onto my skirt. I went speechless. I... I didn't know how to react.
I, yet again, chose to be silent. Instead, I laughed away my sorrows with another mutual friend met thru W, I shall refer to him as J. Everytime I chased him around, and vice versa, I just forgot all about what happened. All the teasing and fun times. That was probably the reason why I didn't go insane.
Everytime it happened, I chose to stay silent. Because I believed that the scouts teacher would do something, she kept on promising and promising. Nothing ever happened.
T got bolder and bolder, the final time getting his group of friends to corner me in the canteen whilst I was queuing. T whispered in my ear, 'something something about my pantak (ass),' I didn't fully understand what he was saying, but knew he was talking about my body. All 6 of his friends took turns grabbing, until I snapped and slapped one of them before storming off. I had it. I no longer wanted to wait for promises that were never fulfilled. I decided it was time to escalate.
The final straw that broke the camel's back.
On the day I was supposed to tell the other scouts teacher, Miss L, about what T had been doing to me, I found out that Miss T had been making empty promises to keep me in the CCA. Remember she promised all sorts of 'positions' that'll guarantee my CCA points? That was a lie. Guess who they gave my promised position to? T. The golden boy. I wouldn't be so mad (maybe betrayed at most) had T regularly attended CCA. Fuck, no. He didn't even turn up for a single session the entire of sec 3. This sent me into pure hysterics, sobs and questions.
Why. What did I do wrong. What did T do to make he worthy of that position. Where did I go wrong. Why.
I sat on the staircase, sobbing and pretty much hugging the only emotional pillar I had, the railings. W and J came, W just stood there emotionless (she also didn't get a leadership position, expected, due to her attendance and attitude to scouts) whilst J tried to comfort me. It didn't help.
All the shit I endured. All the hours I poured into this CCA, the money I lost when I chose to forgo my holiday for a CCA camp that'll increase my chances of the leadership position. All the hours after session I spent practising on footdrills. The weekends I burnt memorizing drill commands.
I realized I only endured the harassment because of my ambition. My selfish goals. I didn't care about the price I had to pay, I only gave a shit about scouts, and my CCA points. I paid the final price with my sanity.
With my sanity slipping away, my only train of thoughts was to seek justice for myself. What I had lost, what another girl could have experienced because I chose to stay silent for the sake of my petty ambitions.
I approached Miss L, and told her everything that T had done. She was shocked, and asked me in chinese, when it happened. Just like what happened with Miss T, Miss L never did anything. They promised, yet nothing happened.
The mental abuse from my Chinese teacher truly broke the camel's back. Call it an unorthodox method of punishment or abuse, its up to your judgement. I was falling back on my homework because I spent every night in bed crying. As such, the Chinese teacher began confiscating my ezlink card and handphone. I was paying adult fare on a kids budget. There was even one time I had to BEG from a random stranger at a terminal for 1 dollar because I didn't have enough money.
This pretty much pushed me to the edge. I stayed up for 72 hours (skipped school, got an MC) and finished every single essay I owed to her. On that Friday (remember it clear as day), I handed everything I owed to her. She said she'll return my belongings on Monday. Comes Monday, the chinese teacher claims I did NOT submit any essay to her despite having the class remind her that I did. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday passed. She found all my essays except one. She then claims I didn't write it, and CONFISCATES my entire SCHOOL BAG, and threatens to confiscate my uniform if I don't hand it by Friday. I was left carrying a thick stack of textbook, semi-sobbing before finally breaking down to my mother.
My mother then promptly writes into the school (at this point she doesn't know about the harassment), demanding that the teacher returns my belonging and compensate me for my adult fare. The vice principal made her return every item she took from me, and made sure she didn't dare to pull another stunt like that again. Lo and behold, she lost my spare ezlink card. So she just handed me another random NETS credit card card that doesn't belong me and told me to '闭你狗嘴' (shut my f*cking mouth) and don't complain.
I ended up flunking every single sec 3 finals, and only passing bare minimum to get me promoted. First time failing in my life. Still feels surreal till this day.
A TL;DR of what happened in 2019/2020 (idw go into details, not ready yet heh), start of sec 4: Searched for transfers, a school is willing to take me in provided the principal approves. The sperm donor (father) doesn't believe me even after I have a c** stained skirt as evidence. School pretends to 'investigate' case to lure me back to school. Both scouts teachers pretended as if I never told them about what happened, the CCA department 'mysterious' lost my resignation letter back in sec 2 that clearly stated what T had been doing. Principal traps me with other friend W (she was also looking for school to transfer) in a white room for more than 10 hours, starts interrogating both as if we committed some big crime. Starts yelling and told me 'it's a form of love to be stalked and touched' after I revealed that T stalked me outside of school (briefly mentioned to both scouts teachers). Makes W break down, fail to make me cry because I had already cut myself emotionally off. Yells again until she probably went out of breath before sending both out. Whilst all these yelling, I had recorded her actual meltdown and was planning to use it as evidence. W sabotages my plan (didn't know at that time), told the principal that I was recording her. Phone got forcefully searched, recording got deleted. School pretends to investigate the harassment case, a few witnesses step forward but was silenced off. Even HEARD the DM told another former scout member to stay silent about the harassment if he wants to keep his leadership position. Was forced to join another CCA, threatened to call the police on me if I refused to join. Placed in the middle of a class full of strangers, freaked out when one of them (later learnt it was an autistic kid, wished I hadn't publicly freaked out) came running at me at full speed and had a huge meltdown.
A rough summary of the 'traumatic' parts, without the gross details. Because I chose to come forward, the principal started targeting me. I was given a poor conduct grade despite never having any discipline/criminal case. My grades were 'modified', where I never passed again. I was forcefully placed into basic Chinese just because I failed in one test.
Thankfully, I managed to fought my way back to normal chinese. Luckily I had taken HCL back in PSLE and scored pretty much straight As in lower sec, or else I might have ended up permanently in basic Chinese and that'll screw my L1R4 score.
At this point, W was still my friend. My mother hated her. She apparently caught W in a lie: W claimed that she never did a mental assessment at IMH. In my mother's conversation with the principal, she was told W had gone to IMH, had a mental assessment, went up to the superintendent with this report and tried to transfer.
I was in denial. I started noticing things that were obvious red flags, emails between W's mother and the principal that had my name and J's, her mutual and only friend other than me. It then hit me, W will do anything and everything to get out of this school, even if it cost me.
Yet again, another few more weeks of crying and denial. I still remained W's friend, because I didn't want to believe she was capable of such backstabbing. I should have just unfriended her. If she can backstab me in sec 2, what is one more time?
In Science class, J and I started becoming closer. Occasionally we would talk and fool around. I started looking forward to Mondays and Wednesdays, because that's the days I actually had real company, away from my backstabbing horror of a class and W. We remained a row apart, because I never wanted to sit anywhere close to anybody after what had happened.
July. I remember this day as clear as day. After morning form teacher class, all the tables were joined back but they were short of my pair of table. So I sat on the left side of J's table. He just looked, I just looked. Nothing happened, I continued scribbling notes (kept on having flashbacks of what happened) and used my paper cutter to repeatedly slice the top of my paper. J asked if I was okay. Internally, I was a mess. On the outside, I just said yeah.
A friendship bloomed, only waiting for the flower to wither and die.
Over the next few weeks, I started becoming more and more paranoid. I enjoyed the company of J in class, but wondered if he was just my friend to seek out information like W. Yet, I still remained somewhat close.
I never fully trusted J, which is probably the reason why this friendship started to fall apart. I tried really, really, really hard to tell J what exactly happened in scouts but never did. It's just a gapping hole of trust that was broken that stopped me from trusting anyone again. I even forced myself to sit at the staircase he collects his lunch everyday, hoping one day I can finally tell him the truth. I never did.
Eventually I believe he heard half truths from the person that I had the most trust from, W. I only knew that W went around telling EVERYBODY about what happened in scouts when one of my acquaintance accidentally blurted out T's name and the skirt, which is only known to W, the school and I.
It was the date of MTL result release. I pretty much flew into a rage, almost punching W if I had one strand of self control less in me. After that, I just shut down and had a massive breakdown in a random unoccupied classroom.
Not even my MTL results made my day any better. By hook or crook I had passed. On a normal day I would have felt happy. Now, I was just murky on the inside and outside.
The rest of the year passed in a blur. Ever since that day, I had shut down emotionally and mentally. I distanced myself from J, and pretty much everybody. Nobody could hurt me anymore if I don't feel any pain, and that's what I did. Eventually J and I drifted, we sat for our O levels and left the school, leaving too many unspoken words between us.
The current
Mentally, I'm still exhausted because of my chaotic home environment. The sperm donor makes my life a living hell. Emotionally, I still don't feel things. I simply don't trust anymore, so I can't get hurt again. The closest I've came to feeling something was when I heard from my former classmates that T had touched another girl inappropriately. The only feeling I had was pain. If only I had spoken earlier that other girl wouldn't have gone thru what I had.
Part of me is looking forward to poly, yet my paranoid side tells me that the past will come back and haunt me. Yes, I'm worried that I will lose out opportunities because of what the evil principal had done to me (bad conduct grade). I used to get nightmares that W would be in the same course as I am. I'm scared that I'll trust the wrong friends, and see history repeat itself again.
I've been living as if I were dead for 2 years. I think it's time for me to open up and be a functioning human again. I think this post pretty much marks the end of me re-living everyday in this nightmare. It's time to let go.
A small message to J, whether you're reading this or not: I'm thankful that we met in sec sch, although it was in shit circumstances. I'm sorry for not trusting you. Thank you for leaving me with at least 1 good memory of sec sch. Also, I'm sorry that I slapped you. I wish I wasn't sensitive, I wish at that time I had known you weren't the bad guy. I wish my paranoia hadn't killed this friendship. I hope you're doing well wherever you are.
Tysm for listening to my rant. It's just June and reality is hitting me. In around 8 months it'll be the end of my mental break year and it's time for me to face my biggest fears, trusting and people.
Wew it's almost 5am ;~;
submitted by pinky_throwaway_2003 to SGExams [link] [comments]


2020.04.29 22:02 rubbishbailey [EVENT] Military Changes in Ukraine, Youth Organizations Pop Up

Social Changes for the Upcoming Election

Nikita Khruzchov spoke in Kiev today with Dr. Serafima Hopner, the leader of the now Communist Party of Ukraine. (KPU)
Nikita Khruzchov, less as a leftist but more as an individual wishing for the betterment of the people of Ukraine, has seen a personal endorsement for a new plan of land reform for Ukraine. He spoke of sweeping land reforms across the nation, an extension of the electoral franchise for the urban and peasantry workers (extremely popular for the lower classes). Dr. Hopner continued, speaking on the hopes and plans of the Communist Party if the election could be won in 1938 for other rapid changes for the country including higher taxes on the wealthy, citing the continued class-war.
To the dismay of the All-Ukrainian Nationalist Front, they still hold the cards of the landlords and thanks to their profitable nature, there does not seem to be any desire to change the current rhetoric, save for the electoral systems...

Changes of the Military

The Military's new changes and doctrines come about with the new militarization of Ukraine. With the industrialization and continued exports affording us ample economic opportunity to do so, newly-promoted Marshal of Ukraine Nikita Khruzchov has called for doctrine changes. Specifically, the Ukrainian Soldierly should be well-equipped, well-fed, well-trained and well-informed if we want him to fight for Ukraine. Our General Staff has convened to discuss which arms our modern military will need. The Weltkrieg led to the invention of many arms that revolutionized warfare. However, they must be improved and sent to our soldiers as well as the new rapid firing rifles and carbines.
We have already spent a lot of time creating equipment for various purposes, but our army claims that the equipment is still not perfect for the needs of the soldiers and officers. We hope to supplement a truly well-armed military before we work on the well-trained portion. If it comes to it, we can modernize these features once we reach the fields. No matter - the army of Ukraine has been reorganized by the Ministry of Defence and our General Staff. It seems that the army which had been formed after 1918 to maintain the independence of Ukraine has finally come into its own.
One of the newer and largest changes Ukraine will be having - woman will be allowed to serve in all capacities of the Ukrainian Armed Forces.

New Uniforms

We will be phasing in a new era for Ukrainian Uniforms as follows for all members. [Yeah, literally the IRL NKVD and what Ukraine wore during WWII OTL uniforms]

Military Academies

The following new structures to usher in a new wave of Ukrainian Officers shall begin including military schools for younger cadets under the Young Pioneers, a mass youth organization for children of age 9–15. Similar to the Scouting organisations of the Western world, Pioneers will be learning skills of social cooperation while attending publicly funded summer camps.
  • National University - Odessa National Maritime Academy
  • Military Music Center of the Ukrainian Ground Forces
  • Odessa Military Academy
  • Expansion of the Hetman Petro Sahaidachnyi National Ground Forces Academy to be renamed under the Lviv Military-Political Academy
  • Kharkov Military School
  • National Air Force University of Ukraine

Young Pioneers / Young Octobrists

Little Octobrists is an organization based on groups each representing one school grade level for the ages 5-9. These groups are divided into subgroups called little stars of five children each. Each group of Little Octobrists are under the leadership of one Young Pioneer from the Young Pioneer detachment. Every Little Octobrist wears a ruby-coloured five-pointed star badge with the portrait of Vladimir Lenin in his childhood. The symbol of the group was the little red flag.
Young Pioneers
The uniform includes the red neckerchief and the organizational and rank badges on the white shirt with long or short pants for boys and long or short skirts for girls, with optional side caps as headdress. Full dress uniforms, to be used in occasions, are light blue or white with red side caps, the red neckerchief and the badges, with crimson sashes for color bearers and the color escorts. When on outdoor duties brown polo shirts with pants or skirts depends on gender, with an optional side cap. Sea service uniforms use sailor caps and blue and white shirts (with Telnyashkas) and pants or skirts depending on the gender, with a brown belt. Instructors and adult leaders wear the same uniforms and the caps in every occasion and in all meetings.
On the day a child joined the Vladimir Lenin All-Union Pioneer Organization, he or she would have to recite the following Solemn Promise in front of a group of other Pioneers (1986 revision is presented below). After reciting, the new member had the Pioneer's scarlet tie tied by an older Pioneer, and thus, becoming a full-fledged member of the organization.
I, (last name, first name), joining the ranks of the Vladimir Ilyich Lenin All-Union Pioneer Organization, in the presence of my comrades solemnly promise: to passionately love and cherish my Motherland, to live as the great Lenin bade us to, as the Communist Party teaches us to, as require the laws of the Pioneers of the Soviet Union.
(Russian: Я, (фамилия, имя), вступая в ряды Всесоюзной пионерской организации имени Владимира Ильича Ленина, перед лицом своих товарищей торжественно обещаю: горячо любить и беречь свою Родину, жить, как завещал великий Ленин, как учит Коммунистическая партия, как требуют Законы пионеров Советского Союза)
Motto
The motto of the Young Pioneers consists of two parts, the summons and the answer or response
  1. Summons - Pioneer, to fight for the cause of the Communist Party, be prepared!
  2. Response - Always prepared!
Rules
  • Pioneer is a young builder of communism, labors for the welfare of the Motherland, prepares to become its defender.
  • Pioneer is an active fighter for peace, a friend to Young Pioneers and workers' children of all countries.
  • Pioneer follows the communists' example, prepares to become a Komsomol member, leads the Little Octobrists.
  • Pioneer upholds the organization's honour, strengthens its authority by deeds and actions.
  • Pioneer is a reliable comrade, respects the elders, looks after younger people, always acts according to conscience.
  • Pioneer has a right to elect and be elected to Young Pioneer self-government institutions, to discuss the functioning of the Young Pioneer organization on Young Pioneer gatherings, meetings, gatherings of Soviets of Young Pioneer detachments and Young Pioneer groups, in the press; to criticize shortcomings; to submit a proposal to any Soviet of the Young Pioneer organization, including the Central Soviet of the V. I. Lenin All-Union Pioneer Organization; to ask for a recommendation of the Soviet of Young Pioneer group to join the VLKSM when on the right age to join.

Colour Codes

From now further, the rank insignia have two colours. Colour of collar patch and colour of collar patch's edge indicating the corps:
  • Crimson with black edge: infantry and all troops services
  • Blue with black edge: cavalry
  • Black with bright red edge: artillery
  • Velvet black with bright red edge: armored troops
  • Light blue with black edge: air force
  • Black with blue edge: technical corps
  • Black with black edge: chemicals corps
  • Dark green with bright red edge: medical and veterinary services, administrative service

Letter Codes

  • ВВ (Внутренние войска, Vnutrennie voiska) - Interior Ministry's troops (NKVD)
  • К (Курсант, Kursant) - Higher military college student taking military courses (hence kursant), equivalent to cadet
  • ГБ (Государственная безопастность, Gosudarstven'naya bezopastnost' ) - State Security (NKVD)
  • ПВ (Пограничные войска, Pogranichnye voiska) - Border Troops (NKVD)
  • СА (Советская Армия, Sovietskaya Armiya) - Soviet Army
  • СШ (специальная школа, spetsialnaya shkola) - special school
  • Ф (Флот, Flot) - Navy
    • СФ (Севастополь флот, Sevastopol flot) - Black Sea Fleet
    • ВАО (Військова академія Oдеса, Viysʹkovo Akadyemiya Odesa) - Odessa Military Academy student, an Army cadet
  • ВМУ (Військово-музичний центр Сухопутних військ Збройних Сил України Viysʹkovo-muzychnyy tsentr Sukhoputnykh viysʹk Zbroynykh Syl Ukrayiny) - Military Music School student, a Marching Band cadet
  • О (Одеській, Odess'kyi) - Odessa National Maritime Academy student, a Navy cadet

Promotions

With this however, a new system of rank is to be adopted within the Ukrainian Military starting with the promotion of those in command of the Operational Command Regions.
  • Semyon Timoshenko of Operational Command Kuban has been promoted to Colonel-General
  • Vasyl Herasymenko of Operational Command South has been promoted to Colonel-General
  • Iona Yakir of Operational Command East has been promoted to Colonel-General
  • Kliment Voroshilov of Operational Command West has been promoted to Colonel-General
  • Operational Command North has been placed in the direct command of Leonid Brezhnev who serves as Marshal of the Army
Nikita Khruzchov becomes Minister of Defence.

Rank Changes

Category All-forces ground troop ranks (Army Infantry and educational institutions,Internal Troops, Civil Defense Forces) Ukrainian Air Forces and other military branches troop ranks (Artillery, Tank and Armored Forces, Airborne Landing Troops, Engineer Forces and Signal and Communications Forces, Medical Service, Military Bands Service, Military Judicial Service, other Special and Technical Services) Ukrainian Navy Ranks and Rates (Deck Ranks and Rates)
Supreme Officers Marshal of the Armed Forces Chief Marshal of Aviation of Ukraine, Chief Marshal of Artillery of Ukraine, Chief Marshal of Armoured Troops of Ukraine, Chief Marshal of Engineer Troops of Ukraine, Chief Marshal of Signals Troops of Ukraine Admiral of the Fleet of Ukraine
General Officers General of the Army Marshal of Aviation, Marshal of Artillery, Marshal of Armoured Troops, Marshal of Engineer Troops, Marshal of Signal Troops Admiral of the Fleet
General Officers Colonel General / General-polkovnik Colonel General of Aviation, Colonel General of branches Admiral
General Officers Lieutenant general Lieutenant general Vice Admiral
General Officers Major General Major General of Branches Counter Admiral
Senior Officers Colonel Colonel Captain (1st Rank)
Senior Officers Lieutenant Colonel Lieutenant Colonel Captain (2nd Rank)
Field Grade Officers Major Major Captain (3rd Rank)
Company Grade Officers Captain Captain Captain-Lieutenant
Junior Officers Senior Lieutenant Senior Lieutenant Senior Lieutenant
Junior Officers Lieutenant Lieutenant Lieutenant
Junior Officers Junior Lieutenant Junior Lieutenant Junior Lieutenant
Master Non-Commissioned Officers Senior Warrant Officer Senior Warrant Officer Senior Michman
Master Non-Commissioned Officers Warrant Officer Warrant Officer Michman
Sergeants and Petty Officers Sergeant Major / Starshina Sergeant Major / Starshina Chief Ship Starshina
Sergeants and Petty Officers Senior Sergeant Senior Sergeant Chief Starshina
Sergeants and Petty Officers Sergeant Sergeant Starshina (1st Class)
Sergeants and Petty Officers Junior Sergeant Junior Sergeant Starshina (2nd Class)
Soldiers, Seamen, Airmen Efreitor Efreitor Senior Maltrose (Sailor)
Soldiers, Seamen, Airmen Soldier / Private Private of Aviation Matrose / Seaman
submitted by rubbishbailey to WeltkriegPowers [link] [comments]


2020.04.27 16:14 superdonkey2 Japanese rejection story!

I am a boy scout who lives in PA, and last year i went to the world scout jamboree, where people from all around the world come every 4 years. This year, it was held in West Virginia. Anyways I was with my friend Matt and we were getting lunch because it was one of our break times. I am a very social person and i saw a nice Japanese girl from another table. I asked her if she wanted to trade, which is what you do at these events. I gave her an american flag patch and she gave me a Japanese one. I said thank you and went back to the table. I go over again and we trade neckerchiefs. The third time i go over, i give her an entire baseball, and she trades me a little plastic bag with some cool Japanese stuff in it (will post that if you want) we both talked a little and she was so nice. I then give her my phone, where you can type in a phone number. I even set it to a Japanese keyboard. She then had a very confused look and signaled for another Japanese dude in a yellow shirt. At the time i assumed that it was her brother. They both come over and look at my phone with very uncomfortable faces. I give an awkward smile and just say, "thank you, sorry about that" and then whisper scream at Matt to get our bags ready. He does so and i awkwardly walk off with my bags and never see that nice girl again. Does anyone have questions or answers? Thanks!
submitted by superdonkey2 to teenagers [link] [comments]


2020.04.23 04:50 Pandoric_Maker The Sanguine Apotheosis, Part 4

The house on Bald Mountain was less than a half-hour's drive from that bout of pandemonium. They took the turn off onto an old fire trail that led higher up the mountain. James and Martin had a panoramic view of the private homes separated by acres of land between them.
The house was large and set half a mile back from the main road leading to the rest of the homes. The driveway was a slow curve of gravel that meandered up to the house. They approached from the woods, each man from a different side. Martin looked in the driveway and over by the garage and texted drive empty. James was on the other side of the house near large bay windows. He pulled out a small dish-like device with a suction cup, attached it to the glass and plugged in earphones to listen. After a few moments he texted no movement and moved along to another set of windows.
Martin found a set of windows that was lined with heavy blackout curtains. He had something that looked like a laser pointer that he tracing the frame and casings with. The green light changed to red and blinked. His text was armed and live. James read this and searched for any exterior cables from the house. He found the meter box and normal power leads with one leading off away from the house. He followed this to the far side of the unattached garage and found a concealed supply box that powered the system. He opened it and found the cable added by a security company that tapped into the home's electric supply. Reaching into his bag he pulled out a small electronic device. Using a knife he peeled a few inches of the security cables casing back to expose the wires, before clipping the device onto the security cable, then the power line.
Once the new connection was made, James tested the device. Three rows of tiny lights began flashing. Once the last of the tiny lights went from red to green he severed the connection between the two clips. The lights remained a steady green and he closed the box up before heading around the back of the house to the large deck. Martin was already there, waiting by the French doors. James used a shim to pop the latch while Martin used a metal strip to snag and lift the kick bar. The door slid open smoothly on rollers. James looked at the readout from the device in his hand. No spikes or movement, which meant no alarms had been triggered. They put cloth covers over their shoes to prevent them from leaving tracks and muffle their steps. Martin entered, tense for any movement and then motioned for James to follow. There was something he wanted James to see.
They moved through the house cautiously. James with his gun out and ready, Martin knocking a soft tap tap tap every so often along the walls and listening intently.
"Panic room?" James asked.
Martin gave him a wicked smile that said I have no idea and continued his tap tap tapping slowly along one wall. Somewhere between the kitchen and the front door came a tap tap thump that stopped them both. They began feeling along the surface of the wall with the flats of their palms and fingertips. Martin closed his eyes and moved against the wall, caressing a piece of wainscoting intimately.
"Should I leave you two alone?" James offered.
Martin answered his remark by letting out a long slow sigh and tilting his head back which was followed by a click as the piece of molding slid up an inch on a hidden track. A door cleverly concealed as a section of wall pivoted open. Martin made an exaggerated bow extending James the courtesy to go first.
"You are just too kind." He thanked Martin, cocked his gun and suppressed a smile he could feel coming on. Martin's sense of humor made these kinds of assignments more bearable. The man's ability to enjoy the irony that was life could be infectious at times. Fun was fun, but this wasn't the right time. All smiles aside, these men were as serious as a heart attack and just as lethal. James was ready for anything. At least he thought he was. Something in Martin's smile told him this would be new.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.
The room was obviously used by Mr. B for research… or to plan world domination. It was difficult to say which by judging by its contents alone. This was the only room in the house that was furnished. A strange hodgepodge of ideas mixed together. Part of the room looked like it belonged in a museum, while another part looked like it came straight out of a police crime lab. One part was reminiscent of an alchemist's study they had come across in Munich once on assignment, while another disheveled spot looked like it belonged in a homeless shelter. They split up and began looking around the room, not sure of what they were looking at or even how to process what they were seeing.
Martin went over to a wall where a massive map of the Old World occupied most of the available space. The yellowed parchment displayed thousands of cities with unfamiliar names in countries and empires long ago conquered. Tiny flags attached to pins stuck out of the map and covered the Northern Hemisphere from Africa to Russia. Below the map sat a long table with fragmented clay and stone tablets sitting next to piles of books and hand written notes pointing out something of importance that littered the surface. Around the room, dozens of statues from various periods and cultures were placed on every surface, or were so large that they demanded their own space. They were unfamiliar pagan gods fashioned from metal, wood, bone, ivory, and stone in a wide range of sizes. Most were small enough to sit on top of furniture, but there were a few others whose size scraped at the high ceiling. Some were human in form while others humanoid with animalistic qualities. A few possessed multiple limbs or features and the largest ones stood triumphantly over the vanquished bodies of demons or angels. Each was depicted in the style and period of their culture at that time. All were uniquely different, but together they could be seen to share similar qualities passed along through the ages. These were the old gods of war, engines of destruction. Not only was the room quiet, but the entire home seemed completely devoid of sounds. The stillness crept into Martin's head and suggested that the house was holding its breath and waiting while the gods looked on silently, watching out of curiosity.
James was on the other side of the room looking at the large desk covered with piles of books and finished legal pads that had been filled with research notes. A green power light from a monitor peeked out from behind a stack of books and papers. Off in the corner was an old foldable cot with a sleeping bag and pillow on top and a laundry hamper with dirty clothes collected into a basket. A tall kitchen trash can whose lid no longer closed was overflowing from take out containers and disposable plates. The general impression was either that Mr. B's work was too important for him to leave it unattended for any length of time, or the man really had cracked under the strain and developed an unhealthy obsession to the point of mental illness.
Martin called James over to the next wall. Seeing it drove home the impression of insanity and locked the door behind it. It made his eyes and teeth hurt just to look at it. Every square inch of the wall from ceiling to floor and corner to corner was covered with photographs, newspaper clippings and post-it notes. Each item was marked by a different colored highlighter pen and tacked to the wall by a push pin of the same color. Metallic cords of the same color as the push pins weaved across the wall, connecting like-colored pieces of information to each other, creating an enormous elaborate web of thousands of colored strands that radiated and snaked about in an indecipherable pattern. It almost looked too cliche.
They each stared at a section for a few moments. Martin traced a path with a finger, trying to make sense of what he read, only to follow it back the way he had come to see if what was attached in the other direction made any more sense. James tried not to focus on any one thing and just let words pop out at him and see if anything caught his attention. Martin pondered to himself; it was like B had figured out how to map insanity and used the wall to illustrate his point.
Then something occurred to him and he chuckled a little, as if a puzzle piece finally fit into place.
"Dimples." Martin said softly, now understanding the patched wall of the New York apartment.
James asked him what he was talking about and Martin caught him up to speed. He continued staring in Martin's direction when he finished his explanation, and Martin quickly realized James was no longer staring at him. Martin turned around to see what caught his partner's attention. A photograph of the Hagia Sophia was pinned by a red tack to the wall. His eyes followed the metallic red thread of information that stretched from Istanbul to the next pin a few feet away and higher up. Martin had to grab a step ladder to get high enough up to read the post-it note. Three names appeared, each on its own line:
Jack Hunter James Query Martin Chase
The first two names had a line drawn through them. Martin lifted the note to peer underneath. It covered a photograph of the three men. Martin's face was circled in red. He came down off the ladder and followed the thread to the next point several more feet away and read the only two words on the note: "Charles Prince." He continued, following the thread to the final pin which ended with "Roger Cumberland a.k.a. Athytas B" near the edge of the wall. Martin moved back down the wall to the Hagia Sophia pin and began tracing the path in the opposite direction.
While he had been busy moving about the length of the wall James grabbed a legal pad off the desk to take notes on specific information that caught his attention. Martin turned to say something and saw James writing, staring with disappointment in his eyes. James stopped his writing and Martin took out his phone, shaking it exasperatedly. James put the pad down and took his own phone out. They both began walking through the room taking pictures of every detail. While Martin made sure every shot was in focus, James simply switched over to video mode and began slowly walking the perimeter of the room, careful to get every item on display.
James stopped in front of a black wall that had been treated with a special chalkboard paint. It was covered with unfamiliar symbols and mathematical formulas. Intersecting lines filled the wall and converged at strange angles producing geometric patterns that seemed to come off the surface where they met. It hurt to look at this for any length of time and he rubbed at his eyes for a few moments. With all the advancements in 3D printing and technology, this was probably just something new that he hadn't heard of yet, so he ignored the designs that floated in front of his eyes. Notes and symbols were written, erased, and written over, again and again. Near the wall's center was an untouched blank area. Lines and curves converged around this spot continuously and looked oddly repelled, like they were turned away when they came too near. Their intersections produced a strange geometric negative space bordered by probably more than four hundred sides that fell in upon itself at certain points and pushed away at others.
Martin came over to see what James had been staring at. When he looked at the wall, his eyes watered. His mind conflicted with what he was seeing and argued the point. The feeling of vertigo tickled at the backs of his eyes. He recognized this feeling and turned his head to look at the wall from the edges of his vision. Glyphs not previously visible began to appear around the edges of the pattern which seemed more solid when they weren't focused on. Martin could make out writing around the outermost edges that bordered the object and anchored his gaze at the space that wasn't there. He reached out slowly. James told him to be careful and with a tentative hand Martin touched the surface.
Millions of voices erupted as one. They screamed, pleaded, seduced, threatened, laughed, and cursed into his mind drowning out his own thoughts. The emptiness contained within the shape reached out voraciously and pulled at him like so many slimy leeches. He jerked his hand away and withdrew a few feet from the wall to catch his breath. He didn't blink for a few moments after that and could feel the sweat pooling on his face and across his body. James asked if he was alright and Martin took a minute before he nodded. He looked at the wall without focusing on anything. He forced himself to close his eyes again, then imagined he could still see the wall. The pattern was etched into his mind's eye. He could see it clearly and follow the lines and angles without effort. He could read the glyphs that flowed around it. Mr. B had made a mistake somewhere, it wasn't right. He didn't understand how he knew this. He just knew the pattern was wrong. He could feel it was in pain.
James called softly to Martin a few times, repeating his name until Martin opened his eyes and turned around, looking for him. James motioned him over to something they hadn't noticed earlier. A large tablecloth was covering an area on the floor. They grabbed the corners and lifted it aside, revealing a large circle surrounded by eight interconnecting circles painted onto the floorboards. In the center ring sat the gleaming silver Sanguine Apotheosis sitting on top of a worn leather diary. In each of the other rings were objects of a specific color. "Well that solves that mystery," James remarked. "What do you think any of this means?"
Martin studied the scene. A black chunk of charcoal, an emerald colored stone, a gold coin, iron spikes, a copper bowl, a piece of Lapis Lazuli, a large piece of chalk… and a mound of rust red sand. Martin shook his head. James reached down and grabbed the Pandoric, stood up and looked at it from every angle.
"More trouble than it's worth," he remarked.
Martin bent down, grabbed the diary, and began leafing through it. It was full of personal entries and notes, mechanical diagrams and sketched designs made long ago by the Pandoric Maker. He stopped skipping through the pages once he spotted a familiar skull image. He dog-eared the page and closed it before putting it down on a nearby table. He grabbed a handful of novel-sized books from under the desk and arranged them in a pile in the center ring until they were roughly the same height and shape that the Sanguine made up. He grabbed the cloth and James moved forward to help, and together they covered the painted area of the floor making it look like nothing had been disturbed. He picked up the diary. "Light reading."
"What now?" James asked, tossing the Pandoric into the bag.
Martin smiled. "Lunch."
Martin and James barely said two words between them on their way through the backwoods heading to the parked SUV. Each man was deep in thought trying to process the events of the last twenty four hours. The silence was broken when the tracker placed on Mr. B's car finally began moving from Kirby's Garage to the Sun Valley library. Martin smiled. "I've got an idea."
"Do tell," James remarked, curious as always.
"We need an insurance policy." Martin stated.
James smiled and nodded. "I like the way you think, Mr. Chase."
"Drop me off when we go through town. You go on ahead and I'll catch you up. When you find B, just keep an eye on him. Don't approach, he knows who we are," Martin ordered.
A short ride later, the SUV stopped for a red light at an intersection and Martin jumped out, walking purposefully down the street. The van drove past and James honked. Martin flipped him off as he continued down the street to a one-stop mailing and shipping store he spotted earlier that day. He looked at his watch, noting the time when he walked in. The young woman working behind the counter smiled at him when he entered. Her smile turned to concern when she caught a glimpse of the gun in a holster under his jacket as Martin reached from something concealed down the back of his pants. The girl in the clerk's smock went pale and stammered "C-can I help you?"
Martin looked from side to side around the store, empty of other customers. He walked up to the register, saw what he'd come in for, and reached out for it, prompting the girl to back away a little. Martin bent down and grabbed a large yellow bubble mailer from the displays just below the counter. His hand came out from behind him producing a small leather diary and, patting himself down he asked, "Got a pen?"
The Sun Valley library was huge and could have easily been mistaken for a luxury ski resort if you simply changed the sign on the outside of the building. In the center of an open four-story main room was an oversized rustic fireplace large enough for the dozen rocking chairs arranged in front of it to keep everyone warm on those long winter days. The stone chimney rose up three stories and was overlooked by balconies that were lined with natural wood railings and casings. The building was constructed with stone, wood, and glass, yet gave a modern log cabin feel. Every floor was lined with row upon row of tall bookcases and neat little study cubicles with monitors and large flat tables under soft white light. James checked that Mr. B's car was still in the parking lot and made his way into the building. He took a methodical approach to the four story building and slowly covered every isle and niche floor by floor.
The clerk's name was Gail. Martin learned this from her after he had helped pick her up off the floor when she fainted. She had eventually calmed down a few minutes after Martin showed her an official looking ID and gun permit, and told her he was one of the good guys. Gail apologized to Martin at least a dozen times, telling him how embarrassed she had been. Martin was busy with a task at hand but continued to reassure her after every apology that it was alright, adding "can't be too careful these days." He reassured her it was completely understandable and that anyone with sense would have probably reacted the same way. She continued her apologies and Martin promised her he had no intention of robbing the store, and then jokingly added if it would make her feel any better if he did.
The look of growing panic instantly returning to her rabbit-like face told him this was the wrong person to be smart with. He told her quickly it was just a joke—a bad one he admitted—but just a joke. She began breathing into a paper bag again. He distracted her from her anxiety attack by asking if there was any local place away from all the touristy spots where he could get a decent bit of lunch to eat. Gail began to calm down a little. His question brought her back to normal everyday life and she knew just the place for lunch. She pulled the paper bag away from her face to answer his question. Her response was not what he expected.
Martin left the store pulling the soaked parts of his shirt away from the parts of his body they touched and clung to. Gail looked up after adding the postage onto the bulging yellow envelope that he left for her and smiled weakly again. Her pathetic smile had "so sorry!" written all over it. He gave her a thumbs up and a half smile hidden behind the cigarette he was lighting. He walked down the street and stopped in front of a waste can, took off his jacket and removed his shirt, trying to touch as little of it as possible as he threw it away. He wiped himself off with a handful of paper towels Gail had given him and quickly put the jacket back on, zipping it up. He walked across the street to a sporting goods store to purchase a new shirt. Every shirt in the store proudly proclaimed it was from Sun Valley in large letters, so he picked the one with the smallest mention on it and called James telling him he was finishing up. James told him to get there as soon as he could and explained that he'd been over every inch and couldn't find the man. Martin told him to inquire about a private library and not to worry; he'd be there shortly.
Martin met James just inside the main doors of the library and they walked over to a desk that read INFORMATION. The woman behind the desk looked up and smiled politely at them. James repeated what the librarian, Eleanor, had already informed him about earlier. The library did have a private area reserved for certain members who'd previously made an appointment for its use.
"Otherwise it wouldn't be a private library," she added.
Since they didn't have appointments she wouldn't be able to allow them access and hoped they would understand. Martin thanked her and asked if he could make an appointment out of curiosity. She had to ask them the nature of their inquiry and research to be able to process the request. James was the first to answer, saying that they were doing investigations into an ancient religious cult superseding the Roman occupation of Turkey, mainly concentrating in or around Constantinople. Eleanor raised her eyebrows, seemingly impressed at the detailed explanation. She typed in some information to see when the next available time would be and then looked up from the screen.
"The private library is available next Tuesday from 2 P.M. to 4 P.M. If you would like, I can put in the request now for you," she said in her official librarian's tone.
She looked at the screen again and reread the information. "You said you were doing research on ancient cults in Constantinople? You know, I thought that sounded familiar. I mean, how often does something like that come along, right? Last year, there was a similar request on the exact same subject and that person was responsible for uncovering a major archaeological find." She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "are the two of you treasure hunters as well?"
Martin and James looked at each other worriedly, then back at her. Martin pulled a chair up to the desk and sat down, leaned in, and motioned for Eleanor to do the same. He began talking very quietly. While he distracted her, he motioned under the desk for James to go around. Martin told Eleanor in confidence that he wasn't at liberty to go into all of the details, but quickly spun an elaborate tale where he and James were scouting locations for an upcoming production. It was loosely based on the Professor's research and subsequent discoveries. The script read too much like a documentary so they added a little artistic license to give it car chases and explosions. The reason they were here was because some bean counter back in Hollywood wanted to know if it would be cheaper to shoot on location than to have to build an entire set. He dazzled her with his story while James casually walked out of her line of sight and around the other side of the desk where he was able to see her screen. He gave a nod; Cumberland had reserved the room and should be in there as they spoke.
"… so that's why they wanted us to have a look at the private library. It would really be a big help, and we could get Larry off our backs once we knew if we could use it or not," Martin finished his story with a smile.
Eleanor was on the fence about wanting to bend the rules for them. She bit the bottom of her lip debating what to do.
"Oh, did I mention they were actually considering casting some of the people who work here as extras? It's a big thing in the movies these days. Really plays well in social media boosting local involvement." Martin added, looking right into her eyes as he said the words.
They followed Eleanor down the stairs and she led them through a few of the reference sections. They came to a stop in front of a life-sized portrait of one of the library's founders and produced a key. The picture was of a man wearing some scholarly robes. One foot was on the lower step of a ladder that leaned against a bookcase. In one hand he held open a large book. The other was pointing to a shelf where a small chest sat inscribed with the words knowledge is key. She put her key into the keyhole of the chest in the painting and turned it. The painting opened inward like a door. When they asked if she was going to show them around, Eleanor informed them that she would rather wait outside. "Way too claustrophobic," came her remark. The men stepped over the threshold and into the room and she gave the painting a pull, shutting the hidden door.
The private library was a darkened room lined with shelves that housed very old and rare books. Four tall rows of bookcases separated the room into narrow aisles. James went down one and was swallowed up by the shadows within a few paces. Martin made his way to the far side of the room looking down each row as he passed. No one else seemed to be down there with them. When he reached the far side of the room just past the bookcases, he found a low archway that opened into a recessed area that looked older than the building. It seemed like an old sewer tunnel for some weird reason. A large table was set just inside and lit by a couple of old fashioned brass library lamps that bathed everything they touched in the glow from their dark green glass. On the table a few old books had been placed in a pile with one left open.
Next to the books sat a familiar double flapped leather briefcase. A yellow legal pad with several pages already flipped over sat on top of the case. Martin could see the current page was covered in notes and glyphs written in a spidery hand. He heard someone mumbling low and hushed coming from just inside the tiny room but he could not see where the man was hiding.
"Now here's someone I never expected to see again." The voice remarked as it crossed the threshold.
Martin spun around in shock. He grabbed onto where he thought the voice was and pulled Athytas B from out of the darkness by the lapels of his jacket. The man offered him no resistance. He merely smiled back at him, amused.
"We've met?" Martin asked him.
"Not formally. But in a way, I guess you could say we have," B grinned at Martin.
"I'd like to know why Prince wants you so badly." Martin said, pulling him closer by his lapels.
"And I'd like to know why you won't stay dead." Mr B said to Martin, before suddenly touching his forehead and tracing something with his finger.
The room pulled itself apart at the seams and carried Martin with it. In an instant, everything receded into darkness and was replaced by the city of his dreams. He stood in a courtyard. The statue of the silver god was seated in front of him. On either side, a motionless figure dressed in blackness stood. Behind Martin stood the gates that opened onto the rust red desert.
"This is bullshit!" he yelled.
The figure to the left of the statue pulled back its hood, revealing the twisted features of its face while offering an open hand towards him.
"I…am…not…here!" He snarled at them while backing away. He felt the gates against his back and moved along them cautiously, never taking his eyes off the two figures.
The statue of the benign god slowly raised its head from looking down at the object resting on its open hands and turned its gaze upon Martin.
"What the hell do you want from me?" he pleaded.
Two words boomed into his mind and he clamped his hands over his ears. The voice shook the world and Martin began falling backwards through the open gateway. The figure to the right of the statue stepped forward and reached out to him. Too late, the world was torn apart and swept away like sand in the wind, swirling around him and rearranging itself into the private library. Martin caught only a partial glimpse of the face behind the hood before it melted away, to be replaced by the features of James, who stood staring at him and reaching out his hand to help. Martin took a deep breath and pushed the hand away being offered.
"Where the fuck did you just go? James asked him.
Martin said nothing.
Then James said something that surprised Martin.
"I saw it this time."

They left the private library ten minutes later once Martin began to feel like his old self again. As soon as they exited the room they were accosted by a very excited Eleanor who prattled on about how she had always dreamt of being in a movie and hoped they would use the library for the location. She continued plying them with questions as she walked them upstairs to the lobby.
"Did anyone else have access to the private library today?" Martin cut into her barrage of questions about which celebrities they had worked with in the past.
She blinked trying to think for a few seconds and offered to check for them if that would help. They walked back to her desk and she pulled up the information on her computer screen. "Oh my goodness!" She suppressed her excitement and leaned in so they could hear her. "Did you know that the person you're doing the movie about had an appointment booked to use the…"
Her voice trailed off and she punched in a few commands. She looked confused.
"That can't be right," she said.
"What can't?" James asked.
When she looked back at them she said, "He had a time reserved for today."
"What time?" Martin asked.
She looked at the clock on the wall, "He should have been down there when I let you in. What's going on?"
James looked at Martin. "There wasn't anyone else down there when you let us in," he told her.
"Maybe he never made his appointment for today." Martin offered.
Eleanor began chewing on her lower lip. "No, it's been checked off in the system. It says someone was here. Neither of you saw anyone else down there?"
"Mind if I see that for a second?" Martin turned the monitor screen around in his direction. All the information was suddenly covered by large white bands that strobed slowly downwards like on an old television set. Martin hit it a few times, then touched the power button, turning it off. "Maybe something's wrong with your monitor or computer. Try rebooting it and see what happens."
James made a show of looking at his watch. "Hey, we need to be on the road and get to the next location before we lose the light."
Eleanor got up while the men made their goodbyes. They headed out of the library to the parking lot, leaving Eleanor at her desk to try and fix her computer.
James smiled, "Nice one with the magnet."
Martin put his hand over his heart and looked shocked. "I would do something like that to such a sweet lady? You sir have insulted me! We duel at dawn."
James shook his head and laughed. "Nice shirt by the way."
"Fuck you." Martin grimaced from the memory and smell.
"Something I can't figure. When did you meet B?" James asked.
"I didn't." Martin answered. "Least not in this lifetime."
Back at the hotel, James grabbed the novel and said he would be down by the pool while Martin cleaned up and changed into some fresh clothes. After his shower, Martin sat on the edge of the bed drying off, picked up the diary and began looking through it. The main writing of the book was in a beautifully penned handwritten script. Probably old French, based on the spelling of some of the words. Notes were added by others over time, evident by the changing handwriting in English, Italian, and Latin. These usually appeared sideways in a margin or angled below an illustration. Martin had no idea what any of this was about, but it was interesting to look through.
He found the page with the top corner folded down and tried to read the entry on the Sanguine Apotheosis. From the schematics, he could see it was not just an ornate box. It had clockwork gears and movements that described it more like a machine. The next page had several illustrations depicting different functions. It did… something. What that something was, he had no clue. The mechanisms inside seemed to alter the external shape, changing it from cube to other geometric forms when their internal components aligned to create a larger component that created new movements and on and on. It seemed to get bigger the more movements were engaged. None of it seemed possible, even with the diagrams explaining the minutest detail that boasted very possible back at him with an arrogant French accent imparted from the creator's hand onto the page.
Two large detailed diagrams displayed every part in detail. On the left, every toothed gear and cog was meticulously drawn and placed inside a heavy square bounding box. On the right, the same gears were now reoriented, and new gears were created from combinations that shouldn't be possible. These were contained inside a many-sided geometric shape with a heavy outline. The gears had random and sporadic markings or symbols or letters on them which aided him in seeing how they were newly positioned when both images were compared. He grabbed a piece of paper and traced the left image, only including the gears that bore a mark, while ignoring the others. On a second piece of paper, he copied the marked gears on the right image. He held them up to the light then put one over the other. He poked the pen through the center gear and slowly rotated the image, aligning them. On one page, a gear on the top left and one on the bottom right lined up next to a gear on the other page. Four letters came together like a cryptogram. He continued manipulating the pages. Every so often they would align and give a hint.
Something occurred to him and he made two more quick copies of the pages. He used a knife and cut the gears free from the page. He aligned the original two pages again until the four letters lined up, then placed a cut-out gear in the correct spot and rotated it until it lined up its letter to the other two. He checked the diary to make sure he put the right gears in the correct spot and rotated them one after another. It produced a cipher using fifteen gears to complete a circuit. With a pen he wrote them down and arranged them by altering the letters by moving the first to the end of the line each time. He looked over the fifteen possible spellings of the word or phrase and took out his laptop. He went online to a word translator site on the internet. He typed in the fifteen characters and picked French. No response. He repeated this going through every language after that. Nothing came up. He turned his search to Arabic, Hebrew and Latin dictionaries, typing the whole word, then parts of it. N'gal finally hit in the Arabic and referenced its use in an ancient text. Every search for the text produced the same FORBIDDEN BY OWNER message. He looked down at the list and crossed off four of the possible spellings. He searched arranging combinations of the remaining word and slowly crossed off potential names until there were only four possible choices. One of these was significant to the Sanguine and the Pandoric Maker.
He reached over for the canvas bag and rummaged around inside until he felt the small cube. He sat down again on the floor staring at it for a few moments. Before he really understood why he decided to do so, he cleared his mind and read the first word on the list out loud. He felt nothing aside from a little embarrassment. He read the next one. Still no reaction. Two left on the list so he skipped to the last on a whim.
"N'gal-Augmoitis!" He said.
As the words left his mouth they became tangible in the air and took on a life of their own. They swam about the air and weaved like serpents through him and into every corner. He felt a wave as the Sanguine Apotheosis rushed past him like a silent explosion, expanding beyond the confines of the room and twisting everything inside upon itself. The cube never moved from the floor in front of him, but he knew the walls of his room were now the insides of the Pandoric and the inside of the Pandoric was now the outside of the world. Escher would have been proud, he thought. The room was an echo of what had been and what will be. It petrified before his eyes, becoming stone. Beyond the room, he sensed the towering figure of the benign god, and they were connected. It was waiting for him to invite it back into the world. Martin began to understand. His world was a snake swallowing its own tail. It writhed, and the world exchanged places with the Pandoric leaving Martin as the only witness. He sat on the floor deep in thought staring down at the silver cube.
"Almost time," he said to the room.

Martin met James at the pool bar. When James saw him, he ordered two more and they clinked glasses in a toast.
"What are we celebrating?" asked Martin.
"I spoke with Scarswood while you were upstairs," James said with a smile.
"Again? Is there something going on between the two of you I should know?" Martin joked.
"He informed me a crew of 'handlers' was dispatched right after I told him we had a visual on the man earlier," James added.
"Shit. They're not playing around," came Martin's stunned response to the news. "B must have really messed up to have them brought in."
"I'm guessing they should be here in about two more hours. Meanwhile, I've been watching the tracker on B's car."
"Asshole," muttered Martin.
"Well, something must have spooked him at the library. He took off from the parking lot and drove until he crossed into Montana. When he thought it was safe, he turned around and started doubling back, using every side road from the state line to get here."
"Probably thought we were tailing him and he lost us. Paranoid over every car that got too close to him," Martin laughed.
"We saw the house. You made contact. Guy's mental. He's obsessed with the work in an unhealthy way. Loose cannon and that makes him unpredictable. He's a danger and can't be parted from his work for too long. That's why he's on his way back now," James explained.
"How far?" Martin asked between sips.
"About an hour away unless he goes back on the main roads which would cut the time in half. I was getting ready to find your sorry ass when you came down. Thought you might have grabbed some sleep," James finished.
"So what's the plan, Mr. Query?" Martin asked, lighting a cigarette.
When the bartender asked him to put it out, Martin gave the man an 'oh come on' look, pointing out no one else was at the pool. They went back and forth verbally for a few minutes until Martin put a hundred dollar bill under his drink and stared back at him with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "Expensive decision to make." The bartender hesitated for a few moments, until Martin looked defeated and went to take the money back. Then the man produced a lighter and lit Martin's cigarette for him, pocketing the money as he topped the both of them off.
"Expensive habit," James remarked.
"One of many," Martin smiled.
"Finish up. I want to head over to B's house without rushing. Let's get a good seat and sit tight until the cavalry arrives," James said standing up.
"Soon as they have him we're finished," Martin agreed, and they clinked glasses before heading for the van.

<- PREVIOUSNEXT ->

submitted by Pandoric_Maker to Pandorics [link] [comments]


2020.04.03 22:27 QuasarSilva Got bored and decided to round up all of the previous Atom Shop datamines posted here that I could find! Found some interesting stuff

All links came from this subreddit and were found by searching "ATX" and "datamine"! Apologies if I missed anything, I went off of what I remembered has come out in the shop already. Also I couldn't make heads or tails of the numbering system (looks like it switched from a 1.X.X.XX number system to regular numbers after a while), so it starts and ends orderly but the middle is a bit of a mess 😅
Overall it looks like there's been a vast majority of things that have been put in the Atom Shop that have shown up in datamines. Some items keep appearing in images of other Shop items, like the red clay tile flooring and military green tiles for example. Others, like the cowbow cow vest and the silver Handmade skin, only show up once or twice and never again. There's a few items that were datamined ages ago and were given away for free (like the pink suits and the DB letterman jacket), and others that came out as in-game limited items (like the halloween suit and pant suit).
Personal favorites are the red clay tile flooring, mixed mosaic tiles (they're a different variant than the original), cow vest, silver Handmade, the military green tiles, Jackalope plushie, Raider Collectron, ornate and carved stash boxes, all the art deco stuff, the makeshift backpack skins, and the bloody handprint Raider gasmask.
Do note that these are just descriptive names, I don't have access to any means of verifying what they'd be actually called (I'm not a dataminer). Also I've no idea when/if these items will be released :( we'll have to see which ones come out in-game and which ones will be released once Wastelanders drops.
Any item with a ? next to the descriptive name is one that I wasn't sure what exactly it was, and any items with a (?) next to them are ones I'm unsure if they've actually been released in the Shop.
Patch 17 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/eonjin/patch_17_atx_datamine/ - missing fire hydrants, Responder wall decoicons/stash box/flags/red icon, weapon and PA workbench skins, Western Mr. Fuzzy(?), emergency lights, Free States Marine/Wood armor paint
Patch 17.5 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/f9bysl/is_patch_175_atx_datamine_already_out/ - missing prebuilt shack, red clay tile flooring, alternate Grognak(?) rug, Hubris Comics wall decor (apart from "What Sorcery This?")
Patch 16 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/e8t1f6/atx_update_patch_16 - missing toilet, gingerbread couch/seat(?), clean sink, red clay tile flooring, blue art deco rug, blue space wallpaper, Free States Scout/Robot/Marine/Metal/LeatheCombat/Wood armor paint, Vault Present Backpack (?), red art deco wallpaper, mixed mosaic tiles, green basic wallpaper, black art deco wallpaper, yellow living room wallpaper, blue kitchen tiles, military green tiles, bloody poker card wall decor
November 19/Patch 15 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/dyn5qc/atx_datamine_november_19th - missing bloody poker card wall decor, communist icons/PA/Handmade skin/flags/multiple floors and wallpapers/beanie and outfit/backpack/Pip-Boy skin, blue and yellow triangle wallpaper, blue art deco rug, black art deco wallpaper, red art deco wallpaper, yellow and orange kitchen wallpaper, blue space wallpaper, green basic wallpaper, yellow living room wallpaper, FO1st Marine/Robot/Scout/Wood Atomic Camo, scarecrow outfit(?), matte Liberty Prime (?), Raider Collectron
October 23/Patch 14 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/dm0ep5/patch_14_atx_update/ - missing Liberator icon, Communist star icons/flags/multiple floors and wallpapers/backpack/Handmade skin/Pip-Boy skin/Collectron, bloody poker card wall decor, blue and yellow triangle wallpaper, blue art deco rug, mixed mosaic tiles, red clay tile flooring, yellow and orange kitchen wallpaper, yellow living room wallpaper, blue art deco kitchen tiles, Raider Collectron, FO1st Marine/Robot/Scout/Wood Atomic Camo
Patch 13 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/d28kg7/patch_13_atomic_shop_datamine/ - missing Jackalope plushie, blue art deco rug, Wendigo icon, Raider Collectron
Wild Appalachia Patch/1.1.08 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/b0ng59/datamined_new_atomic_shop_items_1303_patch_1108/ - missing hooded Stalker outfit, face guard (?), '50s Diner wall lamps, Corvega water hand pump, ski resort Raider cage armor, silver Handmade skin
Patch 1.2.1.18 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/cdyam3/patch_12118_atx_items/ - missing Free States full-head helmet(?), some gardening flags, gardening camera skin, black and gold Free States vending machine, Gold/Silver Collectrons, Free States Scout/Robot/Marine/Metal/LeatheCombat/Wood armor paint
Patch 1.21.32 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/cszx77/patch_12132_atx_items/ - missing bloody handprint Raider skull gasmask, face guard (?), purple Pip-Boy skin, Fallout 1/2/3/NV/4/76 Icons, purple and yellow (VTU?) bodysuit, cow abduction mobile, gray/teal/yellow basic PA colors
Patch 1.21.1.26 (11.5) - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/ckp5bp/patch_121126_atx_items/ - missing red fez(?), face guard (?), Vault Girl X_x mask, wood and glass-slit door, cow abduction mobile, gold Raider icon
Patch 10 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/byzmcm/upcoming_atom_shop_items_nuclear_winter_datamines - missing white and blue tiles, red clay tile flooring, blue art deco rug, Vault 51 placeable sealed jumpsuit, Vault-Tec boxing ring, clean filing cabinets?, red art deco rug, ski resort Raider cage armor, basic fedora, black and red Hellfire PA, blue and violet Hellfire PA, black and yellow dress
Patch 1.1.24 https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/bb9h79/datamined_new_atomic_shop_items_0904_patch_1127/ - missing Modern Bonnet, Retrowave flooring, engraved ivory stash box, discounted camera skin, Wavy Willards camera skin (?)
Patch 5 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/blrkwo/patch_05_new_atomshop_datamine/ - missing various backpack skins, red clay tile flooring, forum and wood music stages, wood and glass-slit door, RobCo jumpsuit, Responder Excavator paint (?), bass/red basic/chicken MAILBOXES, placeable shopping cart?
Patch 1.1.0.12 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/b5ql3c/datamined_new_atomic_shop_items_2603_patch_11012/ - missing Vault-Tec Fatman skin (?)
Patch 1.0.5.10 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/al0zwb/datamined_new_atomic_shop_items_29_januari_patch/ - missing VTU tracksuit, blue fishing hat and overalls, basic wooden twin bed, Nuka-Girl bed, Red Rocket bed, Vault-Tec bed, VTU Pip-Boy skin
Patch 1.0.4.13 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/aekjtl/datamined_new_atomic_shop_items_10_januari_patch/ - missing ornate stash box
Patch 1.0.1.14 - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/9yi2ul/atomic_store_1911_updated_pictures/ - missing turban, Vault-Tec security helmet, clean sea captain hat, General's beret?, postman hat (?), purple bonnet, widow's headscarf, Piper's Hat, hot pink sunglasses, clean police hat (?), western fedora?, western hat with bullets?, cage trap helmet, VTU white cap, black fedora, Vault-Tec Salesman Hat, red ladybug hat?, blue bonnet, red fez(?), fancy feathered tiara, Blue Fisherman outfit, white VTU shirt and jeans, Mr. Fuzzy Jumpsuit(?), Grafton Steel Custodian Jumpsuit, RobCo Jumpsuit, Watoga Civic Center Jumpsuit, Wavy Willards Jumpsuit, General Outfit, leopard print suit, yellow flannel suit, Piper's Outfit, white blouse and blue dress, red sundress, floral-print dresses, beige outfit, flannel picnic outfit, white shirt and slacks, RobCo t-shirt and jeans, various business suits, VTU tracksuit (underarmor?), Vault-Tec Salesman Poncho, Cowboy Cow Vest, Cait's Vest, poodle sleeping bag, green camo turrets, red clay tile flooring, apartment door, princess-and-moon sleeping bag, clean white water extractor, Vault-Tec white door, yellow basic door, wood and glass-slit door, mixed mosaic tiles, red and white game board floor, clean green ceiling fan, clean tan small generator, red art deco rug, blue art deco rug, Vault-Tec logo concrete statue, abstract/landscape/pulp paintings, white and red water extractors, US flag/Nuka-Cola green/Mr. Fuzzy/green camo/Grafton MonsteUnstoppables/Jangles the Moon Monkey/Nuka-Girl/Nuka Quantum sleeping bag, Enclave Pip-Boy, mouth-covered face paint, Not Allowed face paint?, throat-slit shadow paint?, tribal face paint, greaser hair, painted ears and chin, face lightning paint, sewn-mouth paint, nail croquet mallet skin, black Gauss Rifle skin, Garrahan .44 Skin, splattered metal armor paint(?)
First datamine - https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/9wkrj9/datamined_atom_shop_all_items_pictured/ - missing thinker pose, brown and grey fisherman's overalls, Bottle/Cappy T-Shirt and Jeans(?), leopard print short suit, military green tiles, round pillar (Corinthian?), wreathed MAILBOX, Welcome Home neighborhood mat, wreathed MAIL COLLECTION BOX, clean green ceiling fan, green turrets, clean white and red generators, green camo metal paint, and all of the items in the datamine right after this one
MISSING HONORABLE MENTIONS: there are just datamined stuff that I found that wasn't related to the Atom Shop. - Sten gun https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/cu8z3l/datamined_sten_gun - FO4 Diving Suit https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/e78to1/yknow_can_anyone_who_can_datamine_see_if_the/ - Cryonic/Horticulture Raid - Vault 96 https://www.reddit.com/fo76/comments/bgo0ty/a_huge_writeup_of_datamined_future_content/
submitted by QuasarSilva to fo76 [link] [comments]


2020.02.22 20:25 dingbatdiva AITAH for ditching a Girl Scout troop?

Unreasonable Troop mom?
My daughter is in her second year of Girl Scouts. Her troop leader is very unorganized and doesn’t seem to put in much effort. I work full time and commute 2 hours a day but I help out when I can because I realize it’s a lot of work for 1 mom.
I was never a Scout growing up so I had only some idea of what the troops do, I expected community service, nature hikes, arts and crafts and cookies of course. My daughter goes to a meeting twice a month and most of it consists of the girls playing tag and occasionally she’ll come home with vague instructions on how to earn a patch.
Cookie sales are a mess, I seem to be the only mom who had signed up to help and we just put up a table (no signs, table cloth or anything). I just found out that at the end of the season, the troop turns in all the extra cookies and her daughter keeps selling them until they are gone. So her kid earns a trip to Disneyland while all the other girls get t-shirts and cheap water bottles. My daughter thinks this is unfair and I agree, but I let it go. I am glad my kid gets to work on her social and math skills and interact with the community. The whole point of Girl Scouts to me at least, is to have a sisterhood, learn to be a leader and a better person. I also have no clue where the money from sales even goes because it certainly doesn’t go to activities for the girls.
Recently we had a around the world cultural event where each troop was assigned a country. I guess they had a month to prepare but I just found out about it 5 days ago. I asked how I could help and was given a recipe. My daughter and I baked muffins this morning and I brought them to the location not sure what to expect. Our booth has a plan white poster with a Google article about the country and a stack paper plates. The other troops are all decked out in costumes with beautiful decorations, flags, interesting facts, with brochures. And here is our troop, each girl with like 4 patches on their vests with their sad little display. This was the last straw for me.
My husbands coworker and a friend of ours just started her own troop. She coached T-ball for our girls years ago and was amazing with the kids. She wants us to join her troop. Here is where I am not sure if I am the AH. My husband thinks we should wait till the end of the year to leave the troop. I say we bail after cookie season is over. Should I wait until their year is over? Am I the AH here? I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want my kid to have a better experience.
submitted by dingbatdiva to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]


2020.01.13 02:18 hipolymer755 Chapter 1: An Ocean of Stars

In the clearing of a forest next to a pond, two lay – a woman and a young girl, holding hands. The gentle illumination of the force field combined with the light of the moon danced on their faces as they stared into the sky.
“Mommy,” the girl said. Her voice as delicate as a dandelion, “where are you going?”
The woman’s face grew a slight smile, her voice light as she exercised a gentle tone, “Just a stone’s toss away, dear” she said, lying. She knew that tonight was the eve of her journey. In just a few fleeting hours, she would be in flying thousands of kilometers away towards the target.
“Please don’t go,” the girl said, her voice quieter and more somber than before. “Do not be afraid,” the woman said. She knew that this conversation would come but she didn’t prepare for it, she couldn’t, “Know that what I’m doing, and where I’m going, is me doing everything I can to protect you. To defend us.”
“I don’t want you to go mommy,” the girl said. She begins to choke now, tears streaming from her eyes down the sides of her faces as her eyes remain fixed on the stars above. “For as long as I shall live, I will defend you. I must go,” she woman says with determination, her own eyes beginning to water.
“Please,” the girl cries, sitting up and looking down at her mother. She is only thirteen, no older. The two share similar faces, down to the shape of their eyes. The woman sits up in response and hugs the girl, “Be brave, Venetia. Uncle Oliver will take care of you while I am away, you must not worry,” the woman says, her voice unwavering but rivers of tears now streaming from her eyes, as well.
The woman stands up, extending her hand to Venetia, lifting her up from the ground, “Let us go inside now. It is time for you to go to bed, little one,” she says. They turn away from the pond, where a gravel path leads throw the thicket of the woods. As they walk along the path, lights shutter on around them, shedding light on the gravel as they walk forward until they reach a gate. Two automated sentry guns are on either side of a blast door, with a steel wall raised triple the height of a man, behind them and two androids armed with charge rifles in plasteel armor, “Present identification card,” one of the androids says. The woman hands the android a small plastic card with a picture of her, her name, and a stamp of crossed rifles, Sgt. Helen Cobb, 71st Rifle Company, it read. “Clearance confirmed. Proceed, Sergeant,” the android says.
As the blast door slides open, the pneumatics and motors whirring loudly, inside is a collection of marble houses with brick roads in a circular formation and in the center, a fountain with a beam of light streaming from it and emitting the force field above. The houses are beautiful, with banners and flags hanging from balconies and pure white columns, a cobblestone road that’s easy on the feet, and the sweet smell of roses and lilies polluting the plaza with their delectable scents.
Entering her standard-issue home, Helen sets Venetia to bed and then goes to her own bedroom. There, she logs on to her laptop and opens a document filled with text:
9 Aprimay 5527
Progress. Peace. Those filthy raiders attacked Itedo for the last time. They’ve killed too many of us and yet we still patch them up and send them on their way with our prosthetics, synthetic organs, medicine, and rations. I don’t understand our compassion for the heartless. It’s satisfactory that tomorrow, the second anniversary of my enlistment, I’m able to accompany the 71st on the mission to annihilate the compound. It’s exhilarating. Our scouts finally found their location and we’re finally going on the offensive. I don’t know what happened to the General after his mandatory training at the Militaris Scientia Academy at Zone Volk, but this personality shift is beneficial to the colony, I think.
I’m worried for Venetia. I hope that her grades in school won’t suffer because I’m gone. Oliver should take good care of her, him being a therapist and all. He’ll be experienced to help counsel her. I hope he teaches her how to shoot like I told him to. I left him my DODIDAC so he should be able to access the armory in our zone if necessary.
Lord protect me on this expedition.
Sgt. Helen Cobb.
submitted by hipolymer755 to RimWorld [link] [comments]


2020.01.04 15:54 xicarer How about this story about the winder sisters?

Hey,everyone。
I am a horde hunter player of World of Warcraft from China.
I am fascinated by the grand and moving story of world of warcraft.
I think from the version of 7.35 to the version now, WOW lacks a storyline of the reunion of the three sisters from the Windrunners. The attachment is the novel I wrote about the reunion. It’s called The Last Windrunner. It’s a story happened before the Battle of the Undercity. I sincerely hope my story could be of help in the making of the relevant quest line.

The Last Windrunner
"No! Arthas, you..."
Sylvanas Windrunner awakes from a dream as the Undercity resounds with her scream. The undead soldiers take a glance at the scream's origin.
"Chieftain is having bad dreams again, isn't she?"
"Yes. It may have be the fifth time of this month."
"Rumor has it that she is meeting her two sisters."
"Sister? Sis...oh, I know, it's a word that only exists in the living world. I can't remember exactly."
Then a dead silence once again takes over the Undercity as the hushed whispers ends.
Sylvanas cannot even remember how many times she has had bad dreams. The nightmares will not stop haunting her as long as the Lich King sits on the Frozen Throne. Everytime she can feel the great pain of the Frostmourne stabbing into her abdomen —— it tears the skin, takes in every blood, eats the flesh and at last imprisons the soul.
She puts her hand on the stomach as if she can still feel the real pain under her gray violet skin. She sits on her bed in silence (before becoming the chieftain, she has made great efforts looking for the things she had before her death but her "mates" didn't see her as a real Ranger General) thinking of the glinting blond hair, the china blue eyes and the soft ruddy skin she once had.
"My queen, people from the Alliance are heading to the Silvermoon City."
"How many of them?" She gets out of bed with the gallus of her silk-made night-robe slipping down from shoulder.
The candles slowly light up the room.
"The leader of Silver Covenant, the head of void elves and... and some others." Nathanos looks up at his chieftain with the axes shining as frost in his hands.
With lips slightly parted and eyebrows trembling, Darklady makes a sign.The scout nods his head and disappears in the shadow.
"Well."
"Welcome to the horde. My dear little moon and my dear sister." Sylvanas puts on her cloak and leaves like a wind, just the same as when alive.
At the northeast of Lordaeron lies Quel’Thalas, which hides deep into the forest in the North. At first it was the holy land of the forest Trolls. Under the leadership of Dath’Remar, high elves beat the Amanis who were ten times stronger and stopped them by the sea.
High elves have lived in the secret kingdom for thousands of years and have built many splendid cities. Though they protected themselves from the attacks of Trolls and Orcs, Arthas’s undead army was too ferocious. The elf kingdom was destroyed, only left with a city called Sivermoon and some high elves who called themselves Sin dorei.
"Is... is this the place where we used to live in? Is this Quel’Thalas?"
In the airship, Alleria looks down at the forest. A burnt road extends ahead like a trail of slime left by a slug or a long trench dug by a plowshare. Alleria still remembers the forest burned by the Orcs. She thought the great nature would bring the place back to life, but it turned out she was wrong. The only thing that was brought about was a black road of death. She can see the undead army marching forward on this land —— dead bodies, flesh and skeletons creeping ahead with odor and spiritlessness in the air. And the unnatural forces that push the army forward were killing the land that they crept on at the same time.
"The name of this place... has been changed into the Ghostlands. It was the Forsakens..." Vereesa says slowly. She has suggested Alleria to go to the Silvermoon City through the portal but was denied. In fact she hasn’t been back here for years, either. The last time was when she talked about the old days with Sylvanas riding horses in the Undercity. She couldn't lay murderous hands on Garrosh and the "reunion" with Sylvanas also didn’t happen.
"Um... the undead citizens of Sylvanas live here."
"Even the bloodthirsty Orcs and the insidious Trolls couldn’t break through the magic barrier of Quel’Thalas, how was it possible for a human prince to..." Alleria still finds it hard to believe though she has long heard about it.
"There was a renegade in the Silvermoon City. A mage told the Lich King where the three magic keys to the barrier were. What’s more, the power of the Lich King coming from the Burning Legion was too strong and too evil to be stopped." Vereesa laps into silence after her words. The airship isn’t going fast so they can see the shabby buildings, dead trees and every Forsaken staring at the airship.
"And as for Sylvanas, as the Ranger General, she stayed at the front of the battle to protect Quel’Thalas. Unfortunately the Lich King killed her and turned her into... the way she is now." Vereesa’s voice tails away as she continues. The last few words seem to be the most difficult.
Vereesa reminds herself all the time that even though she, Sylvanas is the monster in many others’ eyes and the leader of her horde, she is still the sister who bullies but cares a lot. But the fact is that while Vereesa was working hard for the Alliance, her husband Rhonin was killed by Garrosh. And because of Greymane, most of the Alliance believed that she was to blame for the death of King Varian, though it wasn't true.
"Head to the Silvermoon City faster. I want to find out what made my dear sister the chieftain of horde and the so-called Darklady that freaks everyone out." Vereesa sees the sadness in Alleria and her holding on to Thas'Dorah —— the Windrunners’ heirloom which is shining in its owner’s hand.
The propeller starts to roar while the two shadows quiet down. It’s hard to tell if they are sharing the sorrows inside or sharing the songs in their hearts.
The sun in elf kingdom rises early while the air is heavy with the scent of flowers and the breath of life. Every leaf on the towering ancient trees in Eversong Woods reflects the golden light coming from the sun. Over the years, Blood Elf have been protecting their family and have been renewing the heavily injured land they used to live in but with little progress. The burnt road has already been carved in deep.
Lor’themar Theron —— the regent of Quel’Thalas now, was a ranger under Sylvanas. After the death of the Elf King Anasterian at Sunwell Plateau and the elf kingdom, he led the surviving elves to fight against the attack of Scourge. Then Kael’thas came back to Quel’Thalas to destroy the Sunwell that has been polluted by the evil magic with Lor’themar. Kael’thas claimed that the name of the high elves was officially changed to Sin dorei, also called the blood elf, so as to grieve over the elves who sacrificed and to bury in mind all the humiliation and hatred. Blinded by the idea of revenge, Kael’thas took some troops and threw himself into the fight against Scourge.
And that was the time when Lor’themar was made the king of Quel’Thalas up til now.
Lor’themar and Ranger General of the Silvermoon City —— Halduron Brightwing have been waiting at the gate of the Silvermoon City. At first they decided to welcome the former protector of Quel’Thalas, but as what Lor’themar says, "She sure is the chieftain of her horde. But blood elf are always royal to their own horde. Though she fought and even sacrificed for this land, she is no longer an elf, no longer one of us. Just like Prince Kael’Thas, just, no longer."
So they studied the manners of the Orcs and borrowed drums and trombones to welcome the great chieftain.
The sound of horses comes from afar but the sound that muffles isn’t from the hoofs. Lor’themar slightly stretches his body under the heavy armor with hands holding on to the long sword standing on the ground and eyes gazing into the distance.
The Darklady has many undead horses in collection. People can still see the the strong and unbreakable bodies of when the horses were alive even though all that they were left with are the skeletons and incomplete flesh.
The horse she is riding on has a lot of stories with this land. Its hoof broke the strong gate of Quel’Thalas, trampled the bodies of many elves and galloped through the ice bridge. Of course it is not unbeatable for its front leg was cut off by the ancient sword of the elf king —— Invincible.
There is someone who follows aside. It is Nathanos Blightcalle, the ranger lord of the elf kingdom before and the Darklady’s warrior now.
Nathanos insisted on bringing more forces before leaving. He believed that Greymane brought nothing but his artfulness with him back to the Alliance.
Sylvanas chuckled, "It is just the land I used to live in, the land I used to protect and the land you used to fight for, my dear warrior......"
with her hand on the face of Nathanos.
She stroked the stubble on his jaw. Her slender fingers felt the pallor of his skin and he also smelt the coldness on her finger tips, which was quite the same as the odor he smelt when he was being brought back to life.
Darklady bent down her body looking straight into the pale eyes of Nathanos. The marroon light in her eyes went through his pupil right into the heart —— if there was still a heartbeat in it. Seeing the black tear stains below the eyelids, he was surprised by her face so clear and so delicate. Blighcalle bowed his head uneasily as he always did when alive. But he suddenly saw the smile on her face.
"Now, my warrior, that is the territory of our horde. It belongs to me and all the Forsakens, and also the people in the horde." Nathanos shivered after hearing her words. He couldn’t even tell whether the following words were solaces or menaces.
"No people or creatures shall covet the territory of our horde."
"Death will be the only outcome for the ones who oppose the horde."
......
"So, Lor’themar, the self-dramatizing idiot has really become leader of the land?" Nathanos asks. Seeing those blood elf awaiting at the gate,Sylvanas slows down the pace of Invincible.
"After the elf kingdom was destroyed, the people betrayed him, though prince took them out of the hopelessness. How much real power do you think a regent like him could have? Poor careerist, he should have been born in the human kingdom." Sylvanas says in a heavily jesting tone.
Darklady gets off in the middle of the bridge and then snaps her finger. Invincible neighs and disappears in the distance.
"For the horde! The glory of Sin dorei!" Lor’themar gets down on one knee with his hand holding a sword. The marching band behind is playing some music inexpertly. Lor’themar says "Forgive me for the poor preparation. I was too busy with..."
"Yeah right. Lor’themar, after all these years, your lies are still as terrible as your archery." Sylvanas waves to the band to withdraw. "Wow. No wonder you gave up the job as a ranger. Are you waiting for the dwarfs in Ironforge to sharpen the toy in your hand?"
Lor’themar raises his head trying to refute but to find that Nathanos is staring at him like a hungry wolf.
"Damn it. It’s the human. He has been turned into a monster, too."
"Pack up your cute little tricks and go, Lor’themar. I’m just here to meet my sisters today." Sylvanas goes straight to the gate, "Take them in when they arrive and then continue with whatever you are busy with. The Windrunners don’t need a boy like you to grovel to us whether in the past or at present."
Lor’themar feels a hotness on his cheeks. He sees the chieftain off and holds on to his sword tight waiting for the other two guests.
In the mausoleum of elf king, the only three children of the Windrunners stand in silence in front of the magic tombstone, where it says Anasterian Sunstrider, the last king of the Sunstrider dynasty.
High elves have a long life, a never-aging face and a master hand of magic.They are not ambitious and greedy but humble and proud. They enjoy peace. But the attacks of Trolls, Orcs, Scourge and Burning Legion seem to always come to them. Every attack was a catastrophe. They hid and ran from them but would eventually be found. All of their enemies joked that they were "lambs with wands and arrows".
It was during the Second War that Alleria took a squad and rushed to the rescue of the Alliance of Lordaeron. The elf king and and council of Silvermoon wanted to stay out the war, but it was unavoidable because of the promise of loyalty and friendship that the elves made to Arathor and the blood of Thoradin during the Troll Wars.
Large forces went straight to the north. They flattened the lands of Quel’Thalas and put numerous elves to sword. The Windrunners were also unfortunately slaughtered while only the three sisters survived. However Quel’dorei took part in the Alliance and sent forces to the war. At last Orcs were beat and put into penitentiaries in batches.
The born proud elves started to be sceptical about the value of the Alliance. Human was in huge need of the help from elves but what they gave in return was too little. The elves couldn’t understand why the Alliance would cost so many only to build penitentiaries instead of putting the Orcs to death. So they made an excuse and seceded from the Alliance.
Unfortunately a few years later, the elf kingdom was destroyed.
"Who could have known that the three of us could meet again." Alleria stands at the bow and breaks the silence in the air on their way back to Silvermoon.
"The one who went through the Dark Portal to get in the war against the Burning Legion, and then got back safe and sound from Argus with the Army of the Light is now a senior leader of the Alliance. She used to be a little known initiate ranger." the hoarse voice of the Darklady in Elvish seems to be out of place, "The irony of this is that the girl who was also born here and was also a ranger general,"
"has been turned into the way she is now." There is a touch of misery in her tone.
Vereesa slightly moves her pointy ears. She seems to be very sensitive to this sort of tone and every letter in Sylvanas’s words.
But nothing can escape the eyes of Sylvanas. She gets up and says, "My dearest little moon, I thought the shorties in Dun Morogh would teach you how to tame a beast, or at least teach you not to be so sensitive." Her voice is so bright that they could even see the way she smiled before death.
"So it seems that Rexxar must have taught you how to use a spear and a axe, for the horde is so wild as the Forest Trolls in Zul’Aman." Vereesa turns around and stares into the eyes hidden under the hood of Darklady, "Oh, right! The Trolls and Orcs who killed our families are now the main forces of the horde."
"If you could still call yourself an elf..."
"What? An elf pulverized by Trolls and Orcs? An elf frightened by the Scourge? An elf suffering the addiction to magic?" Darklady smiles with corners of her mouth upward, "An elf having sweet dreams in the primeval forest? An elf who has forgotten magic but believes in the holy light? Or an elf who deceives himself hiding in the dome of magic?" She takes off the hood and let her white hair flutter in the wind with the red light shining in her eyes, " Or, an elf who anticipates coitus with human and dishonors its noble descent?"
"You! You cold-blooded fetid..."
"Enough!"
Silence once again gets on board. Alleria falls into deep thoughts beside the magic paddle at the stern while Sylvanas starts to sing an unknown ballad at the bow, mild and melodious.
......
"Alleria, Alleria! Sylvanas and Vereesa are fighting again!"
"Lirath, what happened?" Alleria has just finished her patrol of the day. As soon as she arrived home, her little brother came to grumble.
"At first they were just competing who's a better archer. Sylvanas hit the bull’s eyes in every round while Vereesa either missed the target or broke the arrow." Lirath said in a bitter tone. He was the youngest among the Windrunners and the one who was given the most love. But his two annoying sisters gave him the most headaches. That afternoon before going to the Silvermoon City for the vote, the adults told them to take care of their little brother and to cook dinner if they came home late. But it all didn't happen due to the fight during the archery competition. One was the stupid bear who had two left paws while the other one was the ape-man who was rude and had no manners, as what they called each other.
"Words weren’t enough for them to express their anger, so they started fighting each other. I wanted to stop them but I was pushed and fell on my butt."Lirath turned around to show his butt covered with mud.
"Gosh. Where are they now?" Alleria was annoyed.
"Just like the old times, they hid themselves in the Eversong Woods and said who found the other one first would be the real ranger." Lirath shrugged. He put hands on his belly and said, "Alleria, I’m hungry. Could you please make some bread for me and then we can go find them?"
He stared at Alleria with his two little blue eyes and there was some dust on his forehead.
"Hey, how about I treat you to some delicious food, without your impetuous sisters? How about grilled fish?" the young ranger lord put away her bows and quiver and got down on one knee.
"You’re the best! But I still think we should go find them and have dinner together." Alleria allowed herself a wry smile and said, "Well, they’ll be back when they are hungry. So just leave them alone and let’s get moving." Then they put on some cozy clothes and got out together.
......
After a sacrifice to the elf-king, the three sisters soon leaves the Silvermoon City. There aren't so many memories left for them —— except there was a young nobility who used to go after Sylvanas crazy. After endless struggles, in the Silvermoon City, where prosperity no longer exists, lives only the impoverished aristocrats and the powerless civilians.
"How did Lor’themar the coward become regent and even have the guts to lead a mutiny against Kael’Thas?" Alleria casually asks.
"All he had been talking about were the plans on how to regain the past glory of Quel’dorei. But the only thing he did was the incomplete restoration of the Silvermoon City for the red tapes he still followed and the trifles he met." Vereesa laughs, "I did not expect the horde to find someone like that to be the leader."
"I don’t need a second careerist in the horde, let alone the unrecovered Sin dorei." Sylvanas waves her hand, "All that he has to do is to protect a small patch of land in Eversong Woods." They seem to reach an agreement on this topic.
"Well, after all, this is the hometown I have left for thousands of years. I’ll just take a look around and see what the careerist has done to it?"Alleria yawns and stretches her body. Her hood is off and the silky blond hair falls out with her quiver dropping to arm.
"My sister —— oh, I mean, the chieftain." Alleria turns around at Sylvanas pacing to and fro with sadness in her eyes.
Thas'Dorah is stretching its bowstring taut like the time when it chose Alleria.
......
"Alleria, why would you say that you wanted to join the Farstriders instead of being a Ranger General like mother?" Vereesa caught up from behind with her beginner’s short bow in hand. "Thas'Dorah is quite a treasure in our family. I saw mother shoot arrows with it and every shot hit the target. The Trolls would be so terrified even just hearing the sound of the arrow whizzing." Vereesa made a face in great panic. Alleria burst out laughing.
"Little moon, being chosen by Thas'Dorah means to take in more responsibilities and expectations from the Windrunners. It is true that being a ranger general is the highest aim to all rangers and also protecting Quel’Thalas is the duty to our family, but I want to travel, I want to experience, I want to see what it looks like outside of the elf kingdom." Alleria sit down on the bench outside the proving grounds for the rangers.
It was the day when Vereesa got the qualification as an initiate ranger and Sylvanas got promoted as the ranger lord. Though Vereesa passed the test, she did give the the examiner some hard times. ("Vereesa Windrunner, are you really the daughter of the Rranger General?" the old mentor pointed at the arrows that went through his hat and said.)
"Do not underestimate the Farstriders! Indeed, it was formed by the rangers. But we still have elf predecessors who can shoot as well as mother, magisters who owns great magic and the strong human warriors. We are not only the protectors for high elves but also the..."
"Human?" Vereesa was intrigued, "Are they cute? Did any one of them express his love to you? How many did you refuse? Is there a prince among them?"
"How dare you make fun of me, little moon? Do you want me to tell mother about the masterpiece you did on mentor Sicard’s hat?" Alleria got to her feet and smiled.
"No! Please don't! Alleria, please!" Vereesa begged.
"Then do not make fun of me again, remember?" Alleria took everything she had not to burst out laughing and said.
"Yes! I won’t do it again!"
"What was it? What won’t our little moon do again? Alleria, tell me, what did she say?" Sylvanas just got out of the proving grounds, "Is it about... the hat?"
"Did you get your promotion?"
Sylvanas pointed at the badge of Ranger Lord upon her chest.
"None of your business!" Vereesa gave the new Ranger Lord an angry look, "Alleria, she’s making fun of me!"
Alleria looked at the hat pierced through by two arrows and shrugged to her.
"How did it go? The mentor must have been surprised since you just got your qualification as Senior Ranger not that long ago."
Before Sylvanas even opened her mouth, Vereesa took away the hat in her hand and ran, saying, "Extra! Extra! Human prince expresses his love to the eldest sister of Windrunner and gets refused!"
The two Windrunners stood there face to face. Alleria gave a wry smile and said, "Let her go. Right, I want to buy a suitable sword for Lirath. He has been talking none-stop about being a knight and protecting us. I think we can take him to get baptized when he learns how to use a sword right."
Sylvanas nodded.
......
Looking down at the Eversong Woods, they can see the land is divided into two by the dark road. It is called the Death Scar, which extends from Deatholme to Sunwell. On the road, no living but the undead walks around. The rotting smell is everywhere in the air. Lake Elrendar flows into the Great Sea through the EverSong Woods and the Ghostlands. Time goes by, the buildings from the Sunstrider dynasty are now ruins unfortunately. The three of them are all too surprised to say a word for the prosperity no longer exists.
There is a building for the Farstriders to gather together not far away from the Silvermoon City. It’s shabby but complete. The signs of arrow and sword can be seen clearly on the leaves.
"Well, at least Lor’themar knew what he had to do." Vereesa sees her sister open the door with a key.
There is lots of dust falling down from the door crack. The main hall is quite clean. It is abvious that it is swept a lot. In the four corners of the roof sit four elf statues on their knees and with bows in hand. The magic lights turn on themselves as they get in. Alleria looks around and sighs with sadness.
Farstriders, which is separated from the Sunstride dynasty, had the same duty to protect Quel’Thalas. For a long time, they have been regarded as the role models of the bravest. They fought against all the invaders and sustain the relationships amomg elf kingdoms. Some of them even had to fight against their innate addiction to magic —— at least before they became Wretched.
Darklady turns her back to Alleria and sees Vereesa standing beside the window still. She notices that Vereesa is making gestures secretly.
"Stay put."
Sylvanas laughs in a weird tone. The corners of her mouth go up and down like the snakes’ scale.
"Little moon, it looks like you can still remember as well as you used to. Are you still using the tactical gestures of rangers?" Sylvanas goes to Vereesa without a sound. She puts her hand to cover the nose, "Oh my, I can smell the mellow poison on the stilettos coming from behind the maple, just standing right here."
"I see. So this is how rogues from MI7 kill the enemies with this kind of pulp?"
"Oh?" Vereesa slowly turns around, "Well I can also smell the odor coming from your rotting underlings."
The silver gray armor Vereesa wears is sparkling, especially her lion badge on the chest. Her baby blue eyes are looking into the blood red eyes of Sylvanas. Vereesa seems calm but still shaky.
Alleria cannot stand no more. She shoots out two arrows so fast that it is too hard to tell where they come from. All that can be heard are the sound that goes into the wood and the sound that goes right through something.
"Tell all of your troops, now, to disappear in the Eversong Woods. All of them!" Alleria puts away her Thas'Dorah and warns.
In the distance emerges a rustling behind the woods and huddles of stones. What’s left are a mask hanging on the trunk and half of the lower leg bone lying in the huddles of stones.
The Eversong Woods finally quiet down. The fragrance of flowers and the birdsong has fade away while the breathing of leaves and the growing of ancient roots are happening.
"I remember this place." Alleria says after a long silence, "Both Turalyon and Khadgar have been here before. I think that was before my entering the Dark Portal and drifting from place to place in the galaxy." The main hall is all lit up. The two stop fighting and sit down in front of the long table.
There is a yellowing map of the Eastern Kingdoms hanging on the wall. They can still see on the map Zul’Aman with a red cross and Stormwind with a blue mark. "Khadgar was kidding about that he was going to buy me a big meal when he came back and Turalyon kept making sure if I would go along or not." She stops for a moment, "Arator was so young and I was just coming to know how to be a mother. I should have put some things down and be a good mother. But looking at Arator brought out the deep fear inside of me."
"I was afraid of the Trolls. I was scared of the Orcs, too. During those days, every time I dreamed, I dreamed of mother being stabbed by the spear of Trolls,"
"and..."
Unusual expressions come up on the faces of the three: Alleria,looking melancholy, wants to continue but no words come out; Sylvanas frowns with her blood-red eyes reflecting a touch of softness. She stares at Alleria but her faraway eyes show that what Alleria is about to say is going to be torture. Yet Vereesa is already sobbing with her hands on the face and her shoulders trembling.
"and Lirath torn by the Orc."
......
Orcs attacked the Windrunner Village.
Hearing the news, Alleria couldn’t think about the cumbrous human cavalries and went on her way back like an arrow.
At the gate of the village, she saw rangers, paladins and some priests surrounding several Orcs with injuries all over their bodies. Then she saw Sylvanas with a solemn look on her face and Vereesa holding a bow in panic —— except for Lirath. Suddenly a sinking feeling came to her. She rushed through the crowd and got Thas'Dorah all ready.
But when she saw the baby elf in the hand of Orc, she nearly fainted as if a heavy cavalry struck her.
It was Lirath, who was scared and paled.
"Put down your weapons, you weak chicks!" the Orc wiped away the blood on his face and growled like he was about to burst out the brutality under the green skin, "For the last time! Get back! Put down the weapons!" the Orc raise the baby in his hand high and screamed with his sharp teeth out.
The crowd moved back little by little and the weapons were put on the ground —— even Thas'Dorah.
"Good. Good chicks." the Orc licked his lips and put on an disgusting smile.
"See the ‘brave boy’ in my hand? How he dared to scream ‘Attack’ towards a great Orc warrior." He shook the baby elf in his hand.
Lirath used to greet to his three ranger sisters in this way after learning how to use a sword.
( "Ranger, watch this! Attack!"
"Oh my, you are too strong. You nearly knocked me down." Alleria laughed.)
The three Windrunners were too distraught to think of a way seeing Lirath shaking.
"The world only belongs to the strong, and that would be us Orcs. On the contrary, the weak can only get to know how weak they are through death." the Orcs standing behind raised their weapons and cheered while the one who had Lirath was walking on air.
"Now listen. Prepare a huge carriage for me. Not the gorgeous birdcages of yours, understand? If it is not huge enough, they will end like this."the Orc stepped on the dead body of an elf and threatened. Alleria found that not only Lirath but several civilians were also tied up on their knees behind the Orcs. Alleria knew that if her eyes could kill, those Orcs must have died thousands of times. But elves could do nothing but stared because the Orcs were extremely dangerous unless their heads were cut off.
One of the Orcs got the carriage which villagers prepared. They put the unconscious Orcs in first and the rest jumped into the carriage. "Ace Brewer, what about them?" an Orc asked. Alleria heard the name clear and she swore to let the damn Orc pay.
Ace Brewer kicked the captured elves and said, "Get the hell back, you chickens. I’ll let you off this time. Enjoy your time being weak." The elves staggered to the crowd while Lirath was still in the hand of the Orc. Priests started to cast spells and rangers were pointing their arrows towards the Orc’s head.
Ace Brewer jumped into the carriage and raised Lirath up high, "Don’t play tricks on me! I don’t want to squeeze ‘this’ to pieces. Let’s go."
As the whip swung, the carriage went afar. Alleria could feel that Lirath was getting far away from her.
"Undefeated Orcs!"
Hearing the angry roar, the three sisters nearly fainted.
And then, the Orc tore Lirath in half,
as if he was tearing a flag or a wing.
As the clop went far away, the arrows and magic missiles all fell behind.
"Sylvanas,"
Alleria softly called,
"you...um...go clear the undead off Quel... I’ll go to find Lirath."
......
In Ghostlands —— the frontier of Quel’Thalas, lies some villages. After being destroyed by the Scourge, it has been taken up by the undead: Deatholme’s acolytes, the Wretched, Gargoyles and Abominations. The undead kept attacking the Eversong Woods when the Lich King was alive. But it was the Forsakens who were stopping them. After joining the horde, blood elf still see that place as a forbidden area. Only a few troops are on garrison duty in Tranquillien where the undead is rare.
The village of Windrunner sits beside the sea. In sunny days,the village is irradiated by the sea while in cloudy days it becomes mysterious and quiet. The buildings there didn’t get destroyed. But what makes them look so scruffy are the spider nets, weeds and the smell of death given off from the undead. Although the buildings are pretty much deserted, the fishery by the sea is still vital —— for it has been taken up by the murlocs.
The three of them talks about many things from the past, from the fun that happened when Lirath first arrived at the village to the gossips in the Silvermoon City. Sylvanas offers a few words from time to time. They seem so relaxed as if they had never been so distant.
Graveyard is next to the Windrunner Tower where most of the elves who sacrificed for the kingdom were buried here. The tombstone in the middle belongs to the first owner of Thas'Dorah and the ones beside are the sacrificed Ranger Generals. The tombstone of their mother is on the right side while Lirath is on the left side. Though the stones are a bit broken, the magic paint on them is clear as always.
Alleria gets on her knee and wipes away the dust. Vereesa goes into the woods for some flowers, while Sylvanas stands still.
"Three times. I was killed for three times and brought back to life for exactly three times."
"From my freedom, my flesh to my soul, I lost them and then found them once by once." she takes off her hood. The silver hair goes up with the wind and then lies on her shoulders.
"Death has always been a dear friend of mine while an eternal sleep is so hard to approach."
"Every time I close my eyes, the darkness that I know well and rely on comes to me endlessly."
"What comes along is the pain when I was being stabbed by Frostmourne, the surprises by betrayal and the desperation of jumping off the Frozen Throne."
"I know you are not having a great time in the horde, Sylvanas." Alleria takes her cold hands.
"You should know, whatever happens, Vereesa and I will be with you all the time." She stares at Sylvanas whose lips are slightly opened.
"Even when I’m like this now?" A bitter smile appears on Sylvanas’s heliotrope face. The answer to her question is an affirmative nod.
" What joy is there in this curse? " She pulls back her hand and shakes her head, "All... all that I have ever had is nothing but darkness."
"Wrong! You still have us!"
"But I’m never the same as you. Am I not the monster who fights with Trolls and Orcs and even the friend with maggots and the devil, as what people say?"
"I control the rotted body with my broken soul. Who would’ve cared about what I was before my death. And who would’ve remembered who my friend was and who my enemy was?
"I... we are the Forsakens." Darklady opens her arms as if the darkness coming from behind is her cloak.
"Windrunner is your last name. My sister. This is Quel..." Alleria goes ahead wanting to give her a hug.
"Before my death, it was indeed."
Sylvanas steps aside and puts on her hood again. Her hair, her brows and her eyes are all covered. Alleria can see that something mysterious and heavy is eating her sister away. Standing right behind her, she feels like they are so far away.
"Not everyone alive wants to live in this way for one more time." Sylvanas’s voice becomes hoarse. She feels like she is speaking for herself instead of the body she lives in. "The reasons could be the hatred that gathers when death comes, the desperation that hope turns into when heartbeat stops, the endless misery that imprisons him or the madness that leaves him no choice behind." She signs and looks at Alleria in front of her.
"Vereesa’s husband died because of the horde chieftain before last. And then, the Pandarens from Pandaria invited the four gods to judge him."
"During the court, when she saw the frame of Rhonin’s death, she was too sad to even breathe. She said she wanted to hack the Orc into pieces —— to be honest you were too mercy on Ace Brewer, one shot to the heart without any pain was just too mercy." Darklady takes out an arrow and points at Alleria who is wearing her Thas'Dorah. Cold light shines on the tip of the dark arrow.
"She came to me and I gave her a bottle of poison, the kind of poison that puts people in torture and to death." the arrow goes off as soon as her words stop.
In the distance, a grizzly bear roars, howls, whines and then dies.
Silvanas purses her lips and hands Thas'Dorah back.
"She couldn’t do it, eventually, and she couldn’t join me, either."
"I said to her, ‘Come with me and be a ruler. You hate the horde as much as I used to. Look at me now, I have got the power of my own in the horde. We don’t have to fight for no one. We don’t have to sacrifice for the ridiculous honors and duties. No man can stop us from anything. We can crush the enemies into pieces if we want to. We can make us and our allies stronger. I am seeing the future and I’m sure you can, too.’. But now..."
"That is just all too real." Alleria sees the mania in her sister’s eyes. She steps back in panic.
"I, the horde, can make Orcs and Trolls to build a road that goes to Stormwind with their flesh and bones. I can make every creature from ants to dragons get down on their knees. Light and Shadow only are the two blades in my hands. Let alone the elements, they are just too easy to control." Sylvanas comes from the darkness and is also drowning in it.
"My dearest sister, I can even bring mother back to life. Oh, and also Lira..."
"Don’t you dare?" Vereesa drops the flowers and aims the silver arrow at Sylvanas’s between the eyebrows.
Darklady glances at Vereesa and puts on a bitter smile.
"You... you are no longer..." Alleria pants with her hand against a dead tree.
"You are no longer a member of the Windrunners. I, on behalf of the eldest daughter of the Windrunners and the inheritor of Quel’Thalas, now expel you, Sylvanas Windrunner, from the Windrunners of Quel’Thalas!"
"Quel’Thalas is now a part of my territory. What made you think you can say such words?" Darklady talks back, "Besides, I’m already accepted by Thas'Dorah. My dear sister, is this a joke that you learned from the human knight when you were living a displaced life?"
"Chieftain, from now on, you live with your horde," Alleria slows down her breath and looks into the eyes of Sylvanas.
"Vereesa", she holds Vereesa’s hand tight, "and I."
"Live for the Alliance."
submitted by xicarer to wow [link] [comments]


2019.12.24 05:27 TylerMcflyer This Christmas I was saved by a skinwalker

I don’t know how to start this. I don’t want it to sound stereotypical but I don’t think there’s anyway. For some background on myself which you’ll need to know, my name is Tyler. Im a 15 year old high school kid. I’m in honors physics and math but I don’t look nor sound nor act like the nerdy type and I really don’t know what I am. I feel like I’m my own category. Not any category you’d see listed. I’m an Italian and afghani mix so I have some interesting facial features with me taking more from my afghani father which includes tan skin color, brown eyes, skinny body figure as in fast not like soyboy, and very dark almost black hair that I keep short.
I don’t like the new clothing styles and I prefer camouflage and tactical clothing since I wanna be a marine corps combat engineer. A job where you have to be able to keep your cool and be calm and collective while building stuff and being fired upon at the same time. I’m very patriotic but not a fan of politicians and I hate when people wanna call me and my fellow countrymen intolerant fascists and then burn our flag.
I live in new jersey so of course the 2nd amendment is nonexistent so I have my own little arsenal of paintball and airsoft guns. I also like rock music as in Black Sabbath and AC/DC, not this new weird stuff. Oh and my dad I mentioned before, I don’t live with him. I live with my mom because they divorced when I was 4 years old but we stay in contact as we both are addicted to physics and math. Anyway now that you know me I should get more onto topic.
This entire problem I went through... actually no... that I AM going through was all started over one thing. A girl. Allow me to explain. I go to school at a school that you need to be accepted to so it’s not the easiest especially when your in an advanced class. In one of my classes there was a girl I liked and no not just because she was smart, outgoing and beautiful. I liked her because she was nice but didn’t take any shit, so if you got on her or her friends bad side she was going to bring hell to you and no I don’t mean beat the crap out of you. I mean she’s gonna ruin you and your education and when it’s done you won’t know what or who hit you until it’s way too late.
Basically she knew what to do in situations like this and was good at it. That’s why I liked her, because she was good with her tactics and things not just related to education but also life situations themself. She could pretty much screw over anyone’s life and career with a few pieces of evidence.
Oh and another fact about me I’m not romantic nor do I look like a pretty boy or male model or whatever. I don’t even look like the type of person who listens to Rock music. I just look like me.
Any way as you might expect I decided one day to go down the stereotypical path and ask her out. Of course me being me, just some dumb weak loser and not some buff senior football player with blue eyes and arms that’s like one foot in diameter got rejected. No forget that. I’m your out of every class kid everyone hates, but I don’t really mind much anymore.
The friends I do have however are pretty popular but cool at the same time. Some of them are even friends with those stereotypical assholes but they don’t hate me because of who they’re friends with. And that’s why they’re true friends. Oh and not to mention the crap they’ve helped me with.
Anyway, back to topic. So I got rejected and well of course news spread. And it spread faster than fire through a stream of oil. By the next day I had people laughing and pointing at me like crazy. In the weight room I could see in my peripheral vision whenever I was lifting or jogging kids looking at me and giggling. Some of my friends stuck by my side throughout the school day as much as possible while others would act as scouts per say.
It’s kinda funny thinking about what we did when the problem first arose. This whole thing started on Tuesday December 3rd by the way, and my friends sticking with me ended on Monday the 16th. That day I told my friends to stand down as I didn’t want them getting effected by this in anyway, that it was my problem, and that the entire thing is stupid which it was. Little did I know quite a few disagreed.
So for the rest of the week every time people would pass me things were more intense than snobby little behind my back jokes. It turned into spitting on me, smacking things out of my hands, shoving, and pretty much any minor hands on bullying you could think of.
The day before Christmas break, the last day of school, I over heard some seniors and their junior flunkies talking about jumping me. I didn’t really bother to pay attention. I wish I did. Maybe if I did, what happened to them would have happened. Maybe they would still be alive. Maybe I wouldn’t be put in the situation I am now.
When I got home from school, my mom, older brother, and two younger siblings weren’t home as I had a half day and all of them had a full schedule for school and work. I walked to my middle class house, surrounded by upper middle class houses. It might not have been as big but I was thankful. It had enough space and plus we had a bigger yard with a gated in backyard and my own shed in the back as well.
Now I know hearing about me and my “precious feelings” and life problems probably wasn’t your first impressions upon reading the title but bare with me. Now for a little layout of the area I live in in my neighborhood which is one of the many things you’ll need to know in order to understand what went down and how. My house is in a rather large neighborhood which is connected to the middle of the town per say, through a road about a half a mile long maybe even less.
The neighborhood is surrounded by woods except for the openings that go to other townships, other parts of the townships, and to the center of the town. Where my house is exactly in the neighborhood is at the edge of the neighborhood and the second last house in a cul-de-sac. There are six houses, including mine, on one side and three on the other side with a large clearing where kids like to play and I like to target practice next to the houses. When the kids either have to go home due to time or weather me and my older brother head out and set up targets to practice. After the clearing ends there are all woods until it reaches the highway which is then followed by more woods, so deer and foxes aren’t uncommon during certain seasons.
The woods start right in front of my house starting with a large patch of tall grass and then go onto trees. So now that you know everything you should need to know let’s get into the part you came here for.
I walked into my house and just sat down. It was cold out but not snowing, but it was pretty cloudy and supposed to snow later. I just wanted to relax after dodging bullets left and right for weeks. After sitting and playing with my German Shepherd collie, blitz who I have seemed to not mention, I began thinking again about the seniors threats. Oh and nothing much to blitz. A German Shepherd collie, male, medium size, one year old, and playful but willing to fight. After thinking of those threats at school I decided that there was probably more to it than just a bluff to make me afraid.
With my final decision being decided, it was gear up time. I ran downstairs to the semi basement which is where my room is and armed up. Remember when I said I have an arsenal of paintball and air-soft guns and military gear. Yeah, that’s what I mean about gearing up. I put on a digital woodland camo combat outfit with a coyote brown plate carrier with Kevlar (just Incase), coyote brown neck gaiter, black under armor tactical boots, coyote brown hard knuckle gloves, and my ear protector headphones which are connected to my phone via Bluetooth and of course an olive green ballistic helmet.
After putting on gear I decided to put on my favorite song, fortunate son, to lighten my mood since, I’m my mind at the time I was about to die. As the song came on, I smacked an American flag patch onto the Velcro of my combat BDU and grabbed a couple of guns fit for the environment I would be fighting in. For long range I selected a bolt action airsoft sniper which I placed on the roof before getting the rest of my weapons, my brothers AR15 airsoft gun for medium and close range, and my tippman TPX 68 pistol paintball gun along with a few pepper spray mags for the paintball gun and a few regular paintball mags and a couple mags for my airsoft guns. I also decided to bring a less than lethal device my mom carried around with her called a bola wrap. The bola wrap is a less than lethal used by police which looks kinda like a taser however instead of needed to be in contacted with the persons skin and shocking them, it fires out a string with two small hooks at the end and wraps around the suspects legs. I brought all of those with me and in their own respective pockets. Now also keep in mind I didn’t want to severely injure or kill them. I just wanted to give them bruises and more so scare them off. What happened instead was not what I intended or hoped for, AT ALL.
I put blitz in his ballistic vest just Incase something went down and I needed backup, but I kept him in the house. As the song wrapped up I exited the house and stepped onto the small concrete platform just before the two stairs going down to grass as I heard the sound of steel being dragged on asphalt.
I looked towards the right where the exit of the cul de sac is and there they were. A medium sized gang of seniors and juniors from my high school all of which are athletic and of different backgrounds. Some African American and buff, some white and buff, some Hispanic and buff, some black and skinny, some Hispanic and skinny, some white and skinny but you get the point. These were some of the best of the best sports players in the school. Sure I do track but these are the best track players, football players, you name it.
As they walked up to my house I could see they had PVC pipe batons, knives, and rebar which they dragged on the ground or patted their hands with them in order the look intimidating. I booked it right to the back yard where a later was set up for me to get to my sniping position. As I ran off I heard one of them yell “where ya going pansy? We didn’t even get started yet!” Followed by their stupid snobby laughter that you’d expect from people like this.
I got to the sniper, chambered a round and decided to aim for the most intimidating of the group. I aimed for one of the football players who was huge standing at around 5:11 and one mean giant. I shot him in the arm right between the tricep and shoulder muscle as to me getting hit in that area tends to hurt a lot. It didn’t do anything but get their attention. One of them, upon seeing me, through a knife or some projectile at me followed by a wave of more materials projectiles that made me lose my balance and slide off the roof. When I hit the ground my vision was all blurry and my right hip bone hurt as well as my cheek bone. No blood was gushing from my mouth, just a busted lip and cut cheek, and nothing was broken by some miracle. I think it was the armor and equipment I had on. I got up as fast as my body in that condition would allow me just in time to see but not block being hit in the head with what looked like a baton made of rebar.
Luckily, the low force he used in his hit plus my head protection simply knocked me to the ground and made me dizzy rather than killing me. I got on my back, pulled out my TPX and shot him in the chest a couple of times along with a few others next to him, and as they were slowed down I jumped back up and began to use my AR15. By firing at the joints I was able to slow down the leaner kids since they were fast and didn’t have as much muscle, but when It came to the football player built guys, it did nothing so for the what felt like 1 hour of fighting, I was mainly running around and occasionally turning around to fire at my pursuers. Eventually, however, one of them was able to catch up to me and he bashed the side of my knee which made me stumble and fall to the ground, rolling a few times in the process. When I came to a stop I was back to being half blind with blurry fucked up vision but this time I was in pain and agony. As I tried to get up the gang of kids approached with their makeshift weapons either over their shoulders like a body bar, held in one hand while they patted the palm of the other hand with it, or really any other position that makes them look cool and intimidating.
Most of them were covered with paint and powered and the ones who were pepper sprayed or rather shot, had red faces and tears coming from their eyes despite their angry expressions. When I was almost up one of them charged me but before he could reach me I was able to bola wrap is legs and his face was introduced into concrete and a concussion. Another one of them charged me but I wasn’t able to reload the bola wrap in time so I went flying back.
I should probably note that there wasn’t much interaction between me and these guys other than us fighting. One of the most popular kids, a junior basketball and football player, ran up to me and tried finishing me off while I was vulnerable on the ground but little did he know you don’t need to be some tall buff football player with rich parents to be quick. Upon his weapon coming maybe two feet close to my face I took me helmet off and deflected the hit and then, while he was regaining stamina, I knocked him out with the helmet.
I managed to do this with a few others, and yes with my helmet gloves as I had lost all my weapons except for the bola wrap. After those few kids were down however, I went down again and this time I stayed down and got what I deserved, in their eyes that is. In other wards they beat the shit out of my, but some how they managed to hit me where I had armor on almost every time so it hurt a little, considering how many times I was hit and what I was hit with, but more so felt annoying.
Despite the fact that I had armor on it wasn’t fun being kicked in the stomach and hit in the side multiple times. I thought I was going to die. I was sure of it. All I could do was lay there squirming and just wait for the end to come. I could hear blitz going bonkers in the house. I could hear his faint barks and growls. He was always a noisy puppy when upset when I first got him and he still his. I liked dogs and a lot of forest animals for that matter but mainly K9 class animals. As I gazed into the forest across from my house containing all types of beautiful plants, tall and short, tree, flower and bush. And in their I saw a jackal. My favorite animal. I smiled knowing I could at least die looking at those thing. But than. At that moment. I realized something.
We don’t have jackals in America.
I continued to look at this thing with my smile faded. I didn’t need an explanation. I knew about these things. I did the research. I heard the stories. Not from my family though. I accidentally discovered them when I was 6 years old when I was looking up videos of Bigfoot.
A Native American medicine man who is corrupted by evil and murders a sibling in order to be initiated into a clan. They wear the skin of animals they want to turn into and can mimic them in order to lure in prey or get close to them. When they’re around the woods are silent and a stench that of rotting animals becomes present. When you see them at first you think nothing of it, however, after closer inspection you can see there’s something off about them. The legs usually look off as in the front legs and their shoulders and torso look human. If a deer their antlers might look to big. When they rise on their hind legs they stand straight up like a man, very very slender however they’re very strong as if they were a body builder and they stand 10 feet tall.
As I continued to look at this thing, I guess it figured out that I figured out what it was and from what I could see, it began to smile. As this happened the stench began and the gang stopped beating the life out of me and I could hear all of the seniors and juniors begin to ask amongst themselves things like “aww what the fuck is that?” Before vomiting and coughing.
I stood up, weakened and damaged by all the hits and despite being beaten I stood up tall with a positive posture and still body and just stared at it. I had my one hand clenching my stomach, not from being near dead but from the horrible smell and the other on my magazine of paintballs filled with white ash that I carried just Incase. I refreshed my mind with a few prayers in Navajo and rehearsed some lines to tell this thing off.
As I was starring I noticed they all looked at me. “What!? What are you lookin at pansy!?” One of the rather ballzy juniors asked demandingly, of course before going back to his coughing fit. They all turned and looked in the direction I was looking in. They didn’t think anything of it. One of them, the leader and most popular of them all, a senior football player, African American standing at 5 feet 11 inches with some arms and shoulder not to be reckoned with shoved one of his flunked out of the way and yelled towards the creature, which they thought was just some stupid dog, “Yo! Fuck off!” He did that followed by making some noises. And that. Is when. All hell broke loose.
An ear piercing scream erupted and it took one step forward, exposing itself, before full out running towards us. It reached right where we were in a matter of a few seconds of course and everyone began to panic. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move.
Believer or not I wasn’t that scared. Or not as much as you might think. I was more so curious and somewhat excited. I was gazing upon something that not many get to see in their life time however it was deadly so I don’t know whether I should be thankful or not.
A few of the guys ran off but then stopped as they realized not all of their friends followed. Those who didn’t follow, being the majority of the group, changed plans and gathered up in their panic and decided to try and fight the thing instead of running off. They were scared and nervous and some were even crying and others were just shaking. A few of them including their leader were clam and collective though. Or maybe just calm.
Oh and I’m not gonna sit here and call them all sissy’s by the way. They were terrified and they had a right to be. I would’ve been as terrified as them if not more if not for my curiosity in the thing that stood before us. They started their charge and started running up and just randomly swinging and hitting the thing. If you know about them then you all ready know how it went down. The hits did nothing. Whether the weapon was a baton, a knife, a homemade small lance, spear or whatever other weaponry they had, it did nothing.
The first to go down was the right hand man of the leader. He ran up and began to punch the creatures abdomen with his brass knuckles. Of course it did nothing and he or she or as you would call it, IT. Just lifted the kid up by his head with one arm and grabbed his legs with the other, raised him up and snapped his back like a branch on its knee and then dropped his lifeless corpse on the ground for everyone to gaze upon. The next victim was one of the grunt juniors per say. He began to swing and hit at the creature with his baton but the baton was swiped out of his hands and the creature used it against him, bashing his head with so much force in fact that the thin metal and kinda sharp baton was stuck inside his skull and there was little damage to his face. Other than the head of course.
All of the kids were getting slaughtered. One guy who tried lifting the creature ended up tripping over a wire that I had set up days prior for Christmas decorations and got his head crushed by the creature while it was slashing down everyone else. Another kids got picked up by the collar of his shirt and thrown to the ground right before having his legs torn off and then wing beaten to deaths with them. It was brutal. It was something no one should have to go through.
After I’d say 10 of them were killed (about half the group) the remaining realized they weren’t gonna be able to survive so they all began to flee. As this happened, one of them, a Hispanic kid stayed behind and dropped to his knees and reached into a bag he flung in front of him from behind his back. I felt it was safe to move so I quickly but stealthily retrieved my weapons and loaded up my bola wrap, paintball gun, and airsoft gun. I didn’t load the paintball gun with white ash rounds though, I kept the AR15 airsoft gun around my shoulder and the bola wrap and handgun in either of my hands and watched from behind the creature.
The kids pulled out a few bags of powder substances, a wooden tray, darts and a dart gun. The creature stared at him somewhat curiously waiting for his next move. The reminder of the gang turned back around and looked at him and pointed saying stuff to each other. The kid mixed up the substances rubbed them on the darts and said a few prayers. He then loaded the dart gun and fired at the creature. It dropped to one knee and screamed again. As they saw his success in getting the creature down, the remaining force of high schoolers began their charge back to fight it. They quickly rubbed the powder on their weapons and started hitting the creature as it flailed on the ground in agony.
I knew it was pure evil and those kids probably weren’t as evil as it but I couldn’t just let them survive to kill me. I aimed my paintball handgun at them and pulled out a paintball grenade which was actually filled with a pepper spray substance that I kept on me Incase of an emergency (kept on me as in during combat censorious like this). I exhaled, closed my eyes, reopened them and chucked the grenade which landed right in front of them and bursted getting the dust all over them. They all fell back and were coughing up a storm from the stench mixed with the pepper spray. It looked at me as I pulled out my paintball handgun and loaded less than lethal rounds. I gave it a reassuring nod meaning “yeah I’m on your side”.
It turned its attention to the gang of high schoolers who were once brave, fearless, hero’s that were now fleeing for their lives. Some were still on the ground coughing and vomiting while others were running and some were getting ready for another attack. The first to go, in a brutal way at least, this time was the kid who initially took the creature down. It ran up to him, grabbed him by the back of his shirt before he could run, turned him around and head budded him so hard his nose was flattened and forehead slightly dented in. The second to go was the first kid to hit it when it was down. The creature pulled out a small wooden pipe that appeared to have carvings and leather on it out of a small leather sack that I didn’t notice at first. It also took out a few sharp pieces of what I knew was bone fragments, loaded the pipe, and put it to its mouth and fired with a large piece of bone going in the kids upper back before he dropped to the ground.
The rest of the time was just the creature killing them in the same brutal ways. Stomping on their legs and ripping off their upper bodies, slashing off arms, etc. One unfortunate soul, another football player, got punched by the creature and then had his head crusade in the jaws of the creature with it then spitting out the remains.
I did also contribute. I ran up next to the creature while it was distracted and shot a kid who was charging over towards it with the bola wrap.
After what felt like ages of shooting and pushing and tripping and watching my classmates get massacred they were al gone. Done. Dead. Not alive. Except for the few that were passed out before the arrival of my unexpected ally.
I turned and looked at the creature. The skinwalker. I looked it right in the eye. Of course I had to take a few steps back to do so due to major height differences. “So is this the part where we try to kill each other?” I asked It responded in a pretty deep almost demonic voice that sounded like it was putting all its energy into saying the word “Yeah”.
For maybe 5 to 10 minutes we just stared at each other. I could hear blitz going bonkers in the background. The skinwalker turned around and walked towards the woods. I felt the need to look around and as I did I spotted it’s pipe and picked it up.
“Hey!” I called out. It turned around. “I think this is yours!” “Keep it. You’ll need that and this gift for when we next meet.” It responded in the same voice. “Until then, enjoy.”
My headphones began to get staticky and all of the sudden a Christmas song came on. I couldn’t make out who the singer was as when it started all I could identify was that it was a female singer singing in a soft voice. My vision and hearing began I get all fuzzy and blurry but I felt fine. I didn’t feel tired and warned out. I was able to stand up perfectly straight, breathe fine, move fine, but my vision and hearing was getting messed up.
While this was happening I heard clearly the skinwalkers voice on my coms clearly say “I have saved you this year, but the next year, you will have to fight me. You will need this to help you.”
All of the sudden my hearing and vision came back but enhanced tremendously. I could see clearly from where I was standing to the woods as if it were nothing. I looked over to where the skinwalker was. It turned around and I could see the bottom portion of its- well no... HIS face. He was Native American and young. Maybe mid or late 20s and that’s just from what little I could see which was just his chin to his nose but his eyes were covered by the jackal skin and they were still glowing that unnatural yellow.
He smiled at me and then ran off into the woods. I dropped to my knees. I didn’t know and I still don’t know what to do. It’s only been about week since the event just mentioned but everyday when I park my bike and lock up my shed and head inside I swear I can see a jackal in my peripheral vision.
I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know where to start.
This Christmas I was saved by a skinwalker.
And next Christmas I’ll have to fight it.
submitted by TylerMcflyer to TheDarkGathering [link] [comments]


2019.12.12 02:06 KayRandz Quahog Historical Society Characters!

CONTAINS SPOILERS Here is every charactecostume obtainable in Family Guy: The Quest For Stuff Quahog Historical Society.
Credit: FamilyGuyAddicts.com
50’s Lois (11) 50’s Peter (12) 60’s Brian (30) 60’s Meg (59) 70’s Joe (33) 8-Bit Lois – Costume (20) 80’s Cleveland (118) 80’s Gamer Brian – Costume (52) 80’s Pop Star Cleveland – Costume (113) 80’s Quagmire (101) 80’s Stewie (2) 90’s Horace (76)
A Actor Brian – Costume (110) Actor Meg (24) Actor Quagmire – Costume (100) Admiral Brian – Costume (112) Adventurer Peter – Costume (100) Aerobics Bonnie – Costume (40) Al Harrington (7) Alice Lois (77) Alternative Medicine Dr Hartman – Costume (101) American Johnny – Costume (106) Angel Of Death – Costume (111) Angela (9) Anime Peter – Costume (90) Aphrodite (38) Apocalypse Peter – Costume (100) Athena (12) Axeman Peter (89)
B Baby Bobble Stewie – Costume (4) Bad Boy Cleveland – Costume (97) Bad Boy Joe – Costume (54) Bad Boy Peter – Costume (83) Bad Trip Stewie – Costume (32) Bald Eagle Giant Chicken – Costume (32) Barbara Pewterschmidt (2) Barista Bruce – Costume (24) Barmaid Lois – Costume (8) Barnaby (116) Bathrobe Quagmire – Costume (121) Beach Bum Death – Costume (45) Bedouin Peter (60) Belgard (16) Belly Dancer Stewie – Costume (37) Bert (8) Bertram (25) Big Bad Brian (58) Big Pete Peter – Costume (71) Biker Brian – Costume (61) Billionaire Peter – Costume (38) Billy Finn (28) Bitch Brian (44) Bitch Stewie (74) Black Jesus (49) BlackKnight (58) Blackbeard (16) Blackbeard Stewie – Costume (13) Blobulous – Costume (119) Bloody Bonnie – Costume (80) Blueberry Peter – Costume (96) Bobsledder Joe – Costume (60) Bolo Tie Lois – Costume (96) Boxer Lois – Costume (91) Boxer Peter – Costume (108) Boxer Stewie – Costume (37) Brain Damaged Horse (48) Brain Damaged Ox – Costume (83) Brian Stewie – Costume (78) Brontosaurus (84) Buffalo Bill (47) Bulldog Meg (26) Burlesque Peter – Costume (33) Burnt Out Brian (28)
C Calamity Jane(94) Candyman Pawtucket Pat – Costume (13) Captain Hammered – Costume (17) Cardboard Chris – Costume (110) Carl – Video Store (19) Carl (77) Caroler Lois – Costume (62) Caterpillar Joe – Costume (120) Cavewoman Lois – Costume (115) Centaur Joe – Costume (46) Charmisse (27) Chef Peter – Costume (94) Cheerleader Bonnie – Costume (93) Chef Quagmire – Costume (70) Chemically Castrated Chris – Costume (95) Chesire Cat Quagmire (33) Chip Griffin (65) Chloe (107) Chopper Cop Quagmire – Costume (69) Chris Quagmire (106) Chris The Giant (32) Christmas Camo Peter – Costume (63) Christmas Peter – Costume (22) Chronos (107) Chuggs (38) Chumba Wumba Stewie – Costume (44) Circus Joe – Costume (122) Cirque De Stewie – Costume (18) Cleveland (1) Cleveland Jr (2) Clevemire – Costume (64) Clown Herbert – Costume (86) Colonial Peter – Costume (69) Comic Strip Stewie – Costume (85) Commander Jesus (52) Condom Chris – Costume (105) Confused Dazed Brian (39) Constance Lois 101) Consuela (1) Cool Kid Peter – Costume (84) Cop Joe – Costume (120) Count Crotchula – Costume (105) Count Of Montechristo Stewie – Costume (18) Cowboy Astronaut Billionaire Peter – Costume (106) Cowboy Peter – Costume (104) Crab Fisherman Seamus – Costume (102) Cupid (29)
D Daggermpith (65) Dancer Bonnie (92) David Copperfield (51) Davy Jones (19) Death (14) Death’s Dog (60) Death’s Mom (14) Death Goddess Consuela – Costume (96) Deidre Jackson (101) Delivery Boy Joe – Costume (86) Demon Hunter Joe – Costume (31) Demon Stewie – Costume (69) Detectuve Scroates (109) DJ Herbert – Costume (25) Dia De Los Meurtos Consuela – Costume (6) Diabeto (13) Dianne Simmons (83) Dick Spitz (15) Dickensian Chris (34) Dino Chris – Costume (120) Dino Tamer Peter – Costume (41) Dog Peter (35) Dojo Peter – Costume (83) Donna Tubbs (36) Dr Brian Watson (108) Drug Sniffer Brian – Costume (88) Duke Of LaCrosse Carter – Costume (98) Dylan Flannigan (54)
E Easter Bunny Peter – Costume (62) Elf Peter – Costume (29) Elf Stewie – Costume (21) Ellie (82 Empire State Joe – Costume (91) Esther (76) Evil Stewie (49) Exorcist Mort – Costume (47) Exterminator Chris (74)
F FBI Lois – Costume (119) Fairy Godmother West (10) Falconer Peter – Costume (115) Fancy Seamus (67) Farmer Chris – Costume (25) Farmer Lois – Costume (75) Farmer Peter – Costume (102) Fast Food Stewie – Costume (28) Fat Brian – Costume (50) Fat Husband Brian – Costume (104) Fat Stewie – Costume (102) Fat Camp Chris – Costume (63) Fat Husband Peter – Costume (94) Fight Promoter Cleveland – Costume (103) Figure Skater Bonnie – Costume (35) Figure Skater Lois – Costume (4) Fire Dog Brian – Costume (42) Firefighter Seamus – Costume (105) Fit Brian – Costume (23) Flag Girl Lois – Costume (79) Flash God – Costume (47) Football Chris – Costume (55) Forklift Peter – Costume (112) Francis Griffin (2) Fried Chicken Quagmire – Costume (116) Future Chris (70)
G Game Show Cleveland – Costume 115) Game Show Peter – Costume (36) Game Show Stewie – Costum (7) Ganesha (16) Gangster Schoolgirl Tricia – Costume (53) Gary Ratowski – Costume (79) Gene The Cook (72) Giant Chicken (15) Giant Stewie (116) Gigg-Olo Quagmire – Costume (53) Glam Cowboy Stewie – Costume (23) Glenda Vlagmire – Costume (29) God (30) Gold Suit Brian (34) Gold Suit Chris (53) Gold Suit Lois (68) Gold Suit Meg (66) Gold Suit Peter (4) Gold Suit Stewie (59) Golden Dragon (13) Goth Chris – Costume (122) Governor Cheeseburg 78) Greased Up Death Guy (46) Greaser Quagmire – Costume (87) Great Outdoors Joe – Costume (95) Greek Life Peter – Costume (107) Gunslinger Joe – Costume (87)
H Hades (14) Handler Stewie – Costume (95) Handsome Peter – Costume (33) Hannukah Mort – Costume (21) Heavy Flo (22) Hercules (5) Hillbilly Stewie – Costume (71) Hippie Death – Costume (23) Hipster Brian – Costume (64) Hook Hand Albert (27) Hooker Peter – Costume (117) Hot Meg – Costume (63) Human Brian (37) Human Rupert (7) Humpty Dumpty Cleveland (41)
I Ida Davis (17) Imperator Lois – Costume (114) Impersonator Peter – Costume (95) Intimate Apparell Peter – Costume (45) Italian Plumber Chris – Costume (92)
J Jack (37) Jailhouse Meg – Costume (116 Jake Tucker (12) James William Bottomtooth III (85) James Woods (15) Jasper (18) Jesus (4) Jetpack Joe – Costume (35) Jillian (11) Jim Kaplan (60) Jingle Joe – Costume (75) Joan Of Arc Lois – Costume (31) Jock Joe – Costume (54) Joe Lion – Costume (57) Johnny (117) Johhny (119) Joyce Kinney (5)
K K-9 Joe (48) K-Pop Cleveland – Costume (87) K-Pop Joe – Costume (88) K-Pop Peter – Costume (122) Katie (18) Kentucky Fried Chicken – Costume (80) Kevin Swanson (81) Kid Quagmire – Costume (66) King Butt (72) Kingpin Consuela – Costume (55) Kung Fu Herbert – Costume (79) Kung Pow Giant Chicken – Costume (103)
L Lady Antoinette Stewie – Costume (35) Lady Brian – Costume (108) Lady Chrs – Costume (48) Larry (77) Lederhosen Peter – Costume (24) Leonardo Da Vinci (64) Leprechaun (28) Leprechaun Stewie – Costume (32) Li’l Giant Chicken (111) Li’l Lois (31) Li’l Peter (51) Lifeguard Lois – Costume (9) Lindsey (49) Little Drummer Boy (73) Little Green Man (17) Loincloth Chris – Costume (98) Loka (85) Lord Doom (11) Loretta Brown (3) Lyle (20)
M Machine Gunner Seamus – Costume (70) Mad Hatter Peter – Costume (99) Mad Scientist Dr Hartman – Costume (42) Madam Consuela – Costume (108) Magic Peter- Costume (44) Magician Quagmire – Costume (26) Makeover Meg – Costume (86) Man Bun Peter – Costume (93) Maniac Pope (17) Mary Sunflower Stewie – Costume (14) Max (80) Maxi Paddy – Costume (42) Mayan Warrior Brian – Costume (46) Medusa Meg – Costume (6) Meg Quagmire (71) Mermaid Bruce – Costume (113) Mermaid Peter – Costume (114) Miami Cop Cleveland – Costume (114) Miami Cop Peter – Costume (81) Michael Pulsaki (79) Michelangelo (9) Mickey McFinnigan (8) Midlife Crisis Lois – Costume (119) Miracle Elixir Mort – Costume (104) Miss Bonita – Costume (122) Miss Eleanor (50) Mob Wife Bonnie – Costume (43) Mob Wife Lois – Costume (36) Moritz (19) Mother Maggie (67) Mountain Man Chris – Costume (73) Moustache P.I. Joe – Costume (75) Mr Washee Washee (62) Mr Weed (112) Mrs Claus (55) Mrs Giant Chicken (98) Muriel Goldman (3) Mutant Human Rupert (77) Mutant Meg – Costume (110) Mutant Neil – Costume (51) Mutant Stewie – Costume (110)
N Natalia (98) Natural Foodie Lois – Costume (39) Navy Quagmire – Costume (118) Negatron (12) Neil Goldman (73) Neptune (40) New Brian (113) New Year’s Brian – Costume (26) New Year’s Jillian – Costume (23) Ninja Stewie – Costume (107) Nutcracker Stewie – Costume (27)
O O’Brien (6) Ollie (73) Onesie Mayor West – Costume (86) Opie (69)
P Paddy (10) Painted Lady Lois – Costume (56) Paleo Joe – Costume (105) Parker Stanton (59) Patches (9) Patrick Pewterschmidt (58) Patty (43) Peaches (54) Pee Pants Peter – Costume (89) Penelope (20) Pete Racer – Costume (103) Peter James Woods – Costume (84) Petra (62) Phineas (106) Pill Popper Mort – Costume (99) Pilot Quagmire – Costume (30) Pimp Giant Chicken (56) Pimp Stewie – Costume (92) Pink Brian – Costume (114) Pirate Queen Lois – Costume (88) Pit Crew Chris – Costume (34) Pizza Delivery Boy Stewie – Costume (109) Plastic Surgeon Peter – Costume (66) Playwright Stewie – Costume (21) Poodle Stewie (52) Possessed Meg- Costume (30) Pregnant Bonnie (34) Principal Shephard (12) Producer Ben(80) Professor Carter (65) Prospector Herbert – Costume (100) Pterodactyl (1) Pusher Mort – Costume (68) Pusher Peter – Costume (89)
Q Qaptain Quagmire – Costume (5) QuagJoePeteLand (76) Queen Of Hearts Stewie – Costume (92) Queen Victoria Chris – Costume (82)
R Rapper Brian – Costume (93) Raptor (19) Red Hot Lois – Costume (31) Redneck Peter – Costume (27) Refrigerator Meg – Costume (91) Reindeer Brian – Costume (81) Retap (41) Reveler Quagmire – Costume (56) Ricardo (44) Rita (55) Roaring 20’s Brian – Costume (40) Roaring 20’s Stewie – Costume (118) Rob Gronkoswki (66) Robe Stewie – Costume (109) Roberta Tubbs-Brown (10) Robot Super Elf (24) Rockstar Peter – Costume (65) Rollerblade Peter – Costume (63) Rollo Tubbs (47) Rollocop Joe – Costume (15) Ron Griffin (74) Rupert (38) Ruth (75)
S S&M Cow (61) Saber-Tooth Brian – Costume (121) Saber-ToothTiger (1) Salty (50) Sam (57) Samurai Quagmire – Costume (68) Santa Claus (22) Santa Griffin – Costume (90) Sasquatch (3) Satan (7) Schoolgirl Lois – Costume (74) Scottish Beast Peter (16) Scoutmaster Peter – Costume (76) Sexy Fireman Chris – Costume (121) Sexy Santa Lois – Costume (21) Sexy Stewie – Costume (43) Sexy Witch Connie – Costume (113) Sheepdog Chris (52) Sheila (8) Sheriff Peter – Costume (67) Showgirl Brian – Costume (97) Sidewalk Joe – Costume (67) Silly Nanny Peter – Costume (89) Sir Peter (59) Slasher Bait Lois – Costume (50) Slasher Bait Peter – Costume (61) Slasher Cat (85) Sloshy The Snowman (70) Snow Angel Bonnie – Costume (6) Social Media Guy (53) Sonja (36) Spaniel Lois (51) Spanish Soap Peter – Costume (97) Speedo Quagmire – Costume (118) Stars And Stripes Chris – Costume (120) Statue Of Liberty Cleveland – Costume (112) Steel Throne Dragon (81) Stegosaurus (41) Steroid Stewie – Costume (121) Stewie Holmes (87) Stewie Quagmire (109) Street Racer Bonnie – Costume (90) Stripper Bonnie – Costume (10) Stripper Jerome – Costume (49) Stu Griffin (117) Stunt Driver Quagmire – Costume (104) Sujin (97) Sumo Chris – Costume (90) Sunburnt Quagmire – Costume (84) Super Devil (72) Sweetmouth Stewie (29)
T Tai Jitsu Lois – Costume (99) Tashanka (20) Teen Mom Stewie (64) Tehuanti (42) Terry The Tiger (39) The Fatfather – Costume (78) The Judge (88) The Multiplier (96) The Stoner Dude (68) Thelma (39) Throw It Away Lois – Costume (115) Tiger Brian – Costume (99) Tomik (61) Touchdown Jesus – Costume (5) Toy Car Joe – Costume (22) Tracy Flannigan (103) Trash Meg – Costume (57) Tri-Bri – Costume (40) Troop Leader Lois (26) Tweaked Out Peter – Costume (102)
U Uhura Uncle Sam Peter – Costume (111) Undertaker
V Vacation Peter – Costume (58) Vacation Santa – Costume (25) Vaudeville Guy (45) Vernon The Water Bear (48) Veteran Herbert – Costume (57)
W Walking Joe – Costume (94) Warlord Consuela – Costume (82) Werewolf Meg – Costume (71) White Rabbit Brian (72) White Suit Joe (46) Wolfdog Quagmire (45) Workout Bruce – Costume (56)
X Xena
Y Yogi Fighter Brian – Costume (78) Youth Scout Herbert – Costume (111)
Z Zac Sawyer – Costume (117) Zeus (3) Zombie Chris – Costume (43) Zombie Lois – Costume (91) Zoot Suit Stewie – Costume (82)
submitted by KayRandz to familyguythegame [link] [comments]


2019.10.08 23:23 LaggerCZE [OC] Inheritors

Just like a thousand times before, the sirens in the ancient bunker blared their warnings, waking its occupants from their slumber.
Vryk knew not what the alien tongue that accompanied the ever-present red lights and rising and falling notes of sirens said, but he knew what it meant. The enemy was here, at their doorstep. Today would be his first deployment.
He raced out of his haphazard nest, sheets thrown aside, without bothering to change into a uniform. Time was far more important than appearances, and he would much rather be embarrassed by being seen in his underwear than arrive at his post any later than strictly necessary.
As he sprung out through the door into the chaos of the underground tunnels, claws screeching against the metal floor, his first thought was to the sheer noise that hit him right then. The usually deathly quiet base was shaking, despite the hundreds of thousands of tons of rock above, creating a deep rumble. The ancient halls reverbated the sounds of explosions and countless guns from far above, almost as if trembling in anticipation.
Vryk broke into a sprint down the countless hallways, following a blue line through twists and turns, past closing blast doors and other running soldiers. A few yelled wishes of good luck or curses as he nearly missed them in his run, but he paid them no mind. This was no time for distractions. He had a task, and he had to see to its completion.
In less than a minute, as he passed another door, urged to continue by the gun-toting guard next to it with quick motions of fore-claws, he suddenly emerged into a well lit hangar abuzz with activity.
Hundreds of engineers moved about in a perfectly organised display of chaos, towing giant shells and armor plates to their respective spots on the concrete floor, orders being yelled over the rhythmic cacophony of distant guns and sirens. There would be no rest for these men tonight, as they continued the daunting task of attempting to coax their giant charges into action, making every effort to allow the soldiers around them to hold on throughout the attack.
Towering over them, the gargantuan Titans idly waited, strapped into their equally oversized support cranes, held upright by thick steel rope.
Their form was roughly similar to that of Vryk’s species, if only in being bipedal and having two arms, yet the designs were all decidedly alien. Armoured and bristling with weapons his own mind barely comprehended, their bulky arms often ending in barrels larger than a man and filled with countless technological advances nobody could replicate any longer.
Vryk took just a second to identify his machine, its grey hull with streaks of industrial yellow awaiting him on the far side of the hangar. Engineers were currently rappelling down alongside the machine’s gargantuan hull, quickly detaching whatever equipment they had previously used to refuel and rearm the walker. It seemed in perfect condition for combat - if it could be coaxed to join the fight today. That task fell to Vryk alone.
It was a great honor to pilot a Titan, yet he felt no joy at the prospect - it could just as well end in his premature death as it could in success. Over the decades his species held the bunker, many pilots died or were turned into babbling wrecks attempting to interface with the walkers, and yet the engineers and doctors were no closer to finding out how and why this happened.
Shaking these awful thoughts away with a shiver, Vryk looked across the floor and again broke into a sprint, throwing himself into the chaos of the launch bay. The fact he didn’t crash into anyone while doing so was, he knew, less his doing and more that of the engineers - maneuvering through a busy landing bay was an acquired skill for all of them. In their frantic rush they barely noticed the pilot, even underdressed as he was.
Reaching his machine took him almost a minute at full run, such was the size of the bay. He felt somewhat winded by the time he did, having weaved through the crowd of workers, dodged away from falling tools and yelled at a few people to get out of the way. Regardless, as he finally approached the small group of his fellow pilots, he noted he was among the last to arrive - even most of the non-pilot crew were already there, gathered around a diminutive younger woman with captain’s markings on her uniform and a bloodthirsty gleam in her eyes.
A few of the other crewmen were equally as underdressed as him, having rushed to their posts from wherever they were when the alarm was sounded, but the vast majority were pilots from the current watch, in full uniform and aching for a fight.
The captain spotted Vryk just as he approached the outermost circle and acknowledged him with a nod, gesturing for him to step closer. “Boys and girls, this is it!” she bellowed, silencing any conversation between the pilots. “This is the real thing! The enemy is here, and this time they brought out the big guns!” With a swift motion her four fingered hand disappeared into a breast pocket, reappearing with a photo she immediately handed to Vryk. “Take a good look, because that’s what today is going to be about!”
Vryk turned his gaze downwards to look at the photo, and for a moment he felt like his heart had stopped. The markings were different, the colours were off, but the shape was instantly recognizable.
A Titan.
All Vryk could do was mutter a single, very potent curse.
A fellow pilot - Vryk didn’t know his name - snatched the photo from his hands, spreading the wave of fear and disbelief through the rest of the group. The captain seemed to be the only one unaffected by the prospect of fighting one of the few things that could destroy a Titan, the bloodlust never leaving her eyes.
Instead of showing fear, she bared her teeth in a cruel smile. “The Navy reports they made it through the orbital blockade by spearheading the offensive with an Ancient warship, so you can all guess where their launch point is going to be.” She paused for a second, making eye contact with several of her subordinates before continuing. “The prissies in orbit have also graciously kept tabs on the big fucker, so between them and the base’s guns it can’t move. That’s where we come in!”
“The ground pounders are prodding the ship’s perimeter - or they were, until it dropped two fucking squadrons of Titans. They’re marching straight on the base, which with our lovely plasma cannons would’ve been perfect, if those weren’t busy killing the hell out of their mothership.” Her smile somehow even widened. “We’re going to turn their toys into molten slag. Suit up!”
Vryk could not help but fear, but obeyed nonetheless.
With all of the crew aboard, the engineers closed the hatch on the Titan’s backside, plunging its bridge into darkness broken only by the dim light of displays and countless LEDs denouncing the status of each of the Titan’s thousands of systems
Vryk, now in his skintight pilot suit, surveyed the small, makeshift control stations, placed in a circle around a round pool filled with a thick, greenish gel, and their three occupants. These were his crew, the trio that would be responsible for keeping him alive and the Titan in the fight.
Furthest away from him, Syndri, an older woman with an awful scar across her face, was strapping herself down into her chair with one hand, distractedly tapping away at the screen in front of her with the other. Vryk knew she would barely acknowledge him until all her pre-start checks were complete, and elected to ignore her in turn.
To his left sat Mharduk, the onboard doctor and expert on the Titan’s neural interface. His job would be to keep the pilot connected and try and protect him should the interface be damaged - a prospect Vryk knew would be futile, should that come to pass. Nevertheless, he trusted the young doctor with his life.
The third member of the crew and the only other soldier onboard was Druhk, a promising young analyst tasked with keeping Vryk in the loop and monitoring communications, so that the pilot could solely focus on controlling his Titan. Vryk liked the man. He was upstanding, reliable and against all odds even occasionally funny. He was also the only one to notice Vryk approaching, nodding in greeting before turning his attention to the maps and data streams in front of him.
The pilot strode up to the edge of the pool, looking down at its gelatinous contents and feeling a familiar stir in his stomach. In just a few moments, the orders would be given, and he would climb in. But until then…
“Status?” he asked emptily, not looking away from the pool.
“Ready and about to lift,” Druhk answered, his voice infinitely more steady than the pilot’s. “We have about seventeen cycles until the outer perimeter is breached. Plenty of time to get in position.” His words were accentuated by a sudden end to the tapping sounds of his fingers hitting the display.
“Check complete,” continued Syndri, not missing a beat. “Stocks full, reactor fired up, lift in ten. Try and avoid getting hit in the left shoulder, sounded like a patch job from what the chief told me.” She remained perfectly nonchalant about the whole thing, despite her informing the pilot of a potentially deadly issue with the mech. Vryk could do nothing but smile bitterly. How typical.
“Ready when you are,” Mharduk ended the status report, looking up from his display at the pilot. “You know what to do.”
Vryk nodded to himself and closed his eyes. He did know. With a prayer to the gods above and a curse addressed to High Command, he took a step forward and descended into the pool, submerging himself completely.
At first he felt nothing but his slow descent into the gel. The soft flow was soothing, even through the suit. He didn’t dare open his eyes, even though the gel was supposedly safe, choosing instead to remain as still as possible.
Then came a jolt. A feeling in his leg. Another followed, then two more, then a cacophony of strange and new sensations, so unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time, alien and familiar, a perfect paradox. He could feel the oil dripping through his veins, the servos of his muscles screeching to life…
And then he opened his eyes, no, cameras, and suddenly he could see everywhere, down to seeing the heat footprint of the base somewhere below him in the lift. The surrounding darkness no longer meant anything. Compared to his giant metal body, neither did the four… no, three ants inside himself.
With a crackle the machine’s communication devices came online, flooding him with tactical data and projections, warning him not to fire the weapons and to stay perfectly still. He willed those away, and spoke a single word to the crew through his many speakers.
“Ready.”
When Vryk and his Titan finally reached the surface, it was inside a crater, one large enough to obscure the hulking machine from ground attacks. The Ancients built their base with layers upon layers of thick subterranean armor to protect from orbital bombardment to a degree a few kilometres of stone could not, but even so they were not so careless as to omit a final layer of good old dirt - some speculated it was meant to disguise the facility, but Vryk knew better.
Every square inch of the ground around him was designed and placed with utmost care, creating a flat-topped artificial mountain too steep to climb - anywhere they didn’t want you to be able to climb, that is. From space, it was nearly impossible to find these paths, but with a map it became obvious.
The whole mountain was a killbox. The terrain was molded to conceal ambush spots, the countless small tunnels and vents leading out of the base and protect the plasma gun emplacements on top of it all. It was a fortress made of old fashioned and quite reliable dirt.
Titans felt entirely at home here.
Sparing no thought to the ants inside him, Vryk ordered the thrusters in his feet and on his back to flare. The sudden burst of speed tossed him into the air like it had a million times before. He knew the exact amount of speed necessary to exit the crater, and the exact amount of resistance his legs needed to provide to safely land. Like a million times before he touched down, kicking up two small clouds of dust with his massive feet.
A quick check revealed nothing but rock in sight. Taking a moment to rotate and check the servos in his left arm, Vryk decided to speak to the ants inside him.
“Orders?”
There was a short moment of silence, after which one if the ants began to talk. Vryk liked the voice - it was strong and calm. The voice of a soldier, not an ant.
“The captain’s given us orders to link up with Battalion 16 and help them repel enemy forces around Emplacement 3-15. Our primary objective is to protect the anti-ship weapons. Enemy Titan force is twenty three strong plus scouting elements. We are expected to encounter the edge of this attack.”
Inside the tank, Vryk absentmindedly nodded to himself. The captain would be fighting right down the centre. She always did, and this time she had the chance to take down a Titan - the madwoman would never let such an opportunity slip.
“Understood,” Vryk let his speakers echo through the chamber inside him. “Moving out.”
His steps were slow at first, careful and heavy, but soon picked up in length and frequency. With each impact the ground under Vryk trembled, his metal body gaining momentum. It would take almost two minutes minutes to reach the designated position, even at full run, but he cared not - no such sprint could tire a machine.
The weather remained calm and sunny, owing to a lack of orbital bombardment kicking up any dust - after all, with four dozen ground-to-orbit plasma cannons peppering the enemy with superheated material, approaching into a stable enough orbit to carry out bombardment was the next best thing to suicide.
A streak of blue flew overhead, disappearing somewhere into the distance. The first sign of the battle ahead, distant for now. Vryk could not help but follow it with his cameras as it gracefully continued beyond the horizon, flowing through the sky-ocean…
Then the next a blast scorched the ground less than half a metre from Vryk’s foot.
Were it not for his gargantuan size and sheer weight, he would’ve flinched at the sudden flash and heatwave. At a full run, it nearly caused him to lose balance and tip over. He took a second to recover, stopping in his tracks, before scanning the horizon.
Out from the distance came another flash, and almost instinctively Vryk took a step to the right, watching as the plasma splashed just short of where he was standing a moment ago. Were he just that second slower…
Another flash appeared in the distance, this time the shot going far and wide, but Vryk paid close attention nonetheless. Wherever the shot came from, there his enemies would be.
It didn’t take much to find the source - the silhouettes were unmistakable. What was marginally harder was to convince his metallic legs to continue moving as he scanned the horizon, staying on course to Emplacement 3-15.
Without saying a word to his crew he forwarded them all a picture of the advancing enemy squadron. On it, seven mechs marched forward, small arms fire ineffectively ricocheting off their hulls as Battalion 16’s reconnaissance elements wasted ammunition to keep the machines away from the retreating troop transports. Amongst the mechs a giant tracked vehicle stood out, almost half as tall as the surrounding escorts, with the unmistakable barrel of a plasma cannon on top.
Trusting the ants to do their work, Vryk fully concentrated on moving his legs, step by step closing towards the incoming group and Battalion 16’s positions. The plasma cannon roared to life two more times, its shots missing the Titan by an ever-decreasing amount, before its operator decided he wasn’t going to kill Vryk at this distance and turned the weapon in the general direction of Emplacement 3-15.
Knowing full well he would miss, Vryk responded by firing a few shots of his own from his arm-mounted cannons. Just as he expected, the shells harmlessly detonated around the mechs, yet the enemy pilots reacted accordingly - the central trio closing formation around the tank to shield it from fire, while the other four spread out farther to make further attempts even more futile. Standard procedure for large titan units, all of it - Vryk knew it, and the enemy knew he did.
He could only keep moving, recognizing the faint noise of his ants speaking deep inside him, notifying the commanders of what was happening. Good. They would need to know.
An explosion shook the ground, again nearly hitting his legs. Without support, he stood no chance of fighting a whole squadron. And Battalion 16 did not carry the firepower. He would need help - any help he could get.
A beep in the back of his head announced an incoming transmission. Straining to keep moving as he focused on the noise, eliciting the correct sequence of thought-messages to listen to the message, he was immediately hit by a wave of emotions and thoughts so perfectly bloodthirsty it could only have belonged to the Captain.
On our way. Kill them. *Kill them all*
Obeying command he focused on his weapons, slowing himself to a stop and taking aim. With only a few seconds to spare before return fire would find him he hastily fired off two shots, only scoring a single glancing hit on the lead mech of the central formation. The machine marched on, undeterred and seemingly unaffected by the hit, with no damage to show Vryk’s marksmanship. He didn’t have time to be disappointed, however, as the next enemy volley followed the direction he ran, unrelenting.
A distant explosion announced one of the flanks had found the outlying forces of Battalion 16’s defensive line - the last one. There was nowhere else for the troops to fall back without abandoning their objective, and they would certainly rather die than do so. Emplacement 3-15 was too valuable not to exchange for a battalion of mechanized infantry.
Somewhere off to Vryk’s left, a massive blip overwhelmed all the thermal sensors for a short time, announcing another arcing bolt of superheated plasma headed into the sky. Momentarily losing focus, the pilot ordered his systems to actively begin filtering out thermal imaging from the direction of the cannon. He imagined all of the enemy pilots did much the same - a much bigger issue for them, considering they were facing the cannon.
A series of blasts scorched across his armour, glancing hits from the flanking enemies, now in range and far more willing to take aim, not having to worry about return fire.
Vryk's armor buckled under the incoming fire, but reported nothing except superficial damage to the outer layers. For that he was glad - if the shots had been any more accurate, the Titan could sustain severe damage, damage that would slow him down and make him prone to mistakes.
As the barrage subsided, Vryk allowed himself a quick pause to assess the situation. There were far too many opponents for him to keep dodging their fire, and they were getting dangerously close to Emplacement 3-15. Battalion 16 lacked any effective tools to assist him outside of distractions and sheer volume of fire. And on top of all of that, reinforcements were still far away.
In desperation, he ordered the thrusters to flare again, flinging himself off the ground and far forward, past incoming fire. Fighting in close quarters was risky, far more so when overwhelmed, but there was little choice - he could not delay nor deter the opponent with long range volleys for long enough.
It took all his will and concentration to land on his feet, desperately trying to move out of the way of yet more shells coming from the rapidly adjusting enemy Titans. He made it with seconds to spare, all too aware of the shower of shrapnel his hide received in the process. Gaining speed over the muddy field, he quickly scanned the duo he was heading towards, unable to concentrate on firing without risking tripping. The analysis gave him a steadily rising 38% chance of penetration at this range - a significantly better outlook than mere seconds ago. It also noted a strange signal coming from one of the units, something Vryk felt the Titan's own computers recognised as deeply familiar, but that he himself could not place.
As his steps became bounding leaps and Vryk's massive body gained momentum, the first shell impacted his front plate. It was to no avail, yet served to remind Vryk of his own mortality. The computers were quick to determine that wasn't the doing of either of the units he was charging, however, instead denouncing the shell came from his left - from the other group of flankers, now busy covering their comrades instead of surrounding Battalion 16.
Vryk smiled to himself inside the tank, the only celebration of success he had time for. Keeping in motion was crucial now - slowing down could potentially allow the closest unit to aim more precisely, perhaps even score a penetrating hit. At this distance…
Vryk chastised himself and refocused on the task and hand. There was no time for doubt.
With a gargantuan effort, he slowly shifted the momentum of his metal body to the side, past the duo. There was something strange about them, the way the further one moved seemed so… erratic. Unable to tell what prompted him to do so, Vryk ran another scan of that unit, returning a positive on a category he didn't know his Titan even recorded. A Precursor word, a concept his mind could not grasp.
Snapping back to reality, he locked his legs to continue marching forward, stabilised his torso to face the enemy duo, and opened fire.
The first two shells missed, but the remaining nine he managed to fire before return fire impacted his armor did not. The closer unit's armor buckled and gave off a horrible tearing noise as the Titan fell over, missing a part of its left leg and with a smoking crater in place of its lower front plate.
Filled with glee at the destruction, Vryk returned to moving his legs manually, but only managed two steps before an impact to his back torso plate tipped him over onto the dirt.

The impact knocked the breath out of Mharduk, on account of the straps keeping him in his chair. His sense of direction was being knocked about possibly even more than his body. Despite their mastery over countless fields, not even the Precursors could manage artificial gravity, leaving him to struggle to keep his lunch in as the Titan ate dirt.
The display in front of him continued streaming data regarding Vryk, the inputs his body fired off into the rapidly hardening liquid of the pool and the decidedly more measured responses from his Titan. He could hardly guess what each of the pulses meant, what kind of data the Titan was filling its pilot with. The scans of Vryk's brain were a little better, giving him at least some idea what the man was focusing, but even so it was impossible to distinguish which thoughts occured naturally and which were created by the machine.
It was a well-known fact the Titans affected their pilot's psyche, but to what end remained a mystery. The constant changes in what direction "down" was made it impossible for Mharduk to analyse anything clearly, and even if he could, the data was far too random and chaotic. Like hundreds of onboard doctors before him, he was relegated to trying to disconnect the pilot once the battle was over. For now, all he could do was watch the data, relying on intuition more than anything to warn him when things began to go downhill.
An intuition which was screaming in fear.
It took Vryk three separate attempts to stand up, but miraculously not a single shell found its target while he did so. He was thanking the gods for his luck in avoiding a brutal death when the reason why struck him - literally.
The impact was weak compared to a direct hit from a cannon shell, but nonetheless sufficient to again tip him over. He never expected a mech to engage him using its own body as a weapon. It wasn't just dangerous, it was suicidal. One misstep could doom you to a point blank tank shell.
Wasting no time, Vryk rolled to the side with all his might, tumbling twice until he ended facing upwards. The mech that assaulted him was reorienting, trying to get its own cannons pointed in the right direction. It barely failed, in no small part due to Vryk's metal leg connecting with its arm and swatting the weapon away. The enemy unit didn't seem to care, however. If anything, one of Vryk's side cameras made it look angry.
For a millisecond, Vryk could not help but focus on the image, something magnetic drawing him towards it. There was a symbol on the torso of the unit, a small red rectangle he could not recognize. Yet it was familiar, so familiar…
Suddenly, everything snapped into place. With a trained move he had done a thousand times before, Vryk leapt from the ground, jets flaring in order to assist. He gave the enemy unit no time to react as he spun in place, one heel digging into the dirt. The computer announced a firing solution for his arm even as it was still in motion and he accepted it, already calculating if the recoil would give his swing more power.
The cannon fired once before it inadvertently connected with the side of the enemy unit, knocking it off balance and face first into the dirt. Relegating control of his right arm to the machine, Vryk simply ordered it to kill the target and instead focused on stopping the spin by digging both his feet deep into the dirt. He managed it, but only just. The dirt was too soft for fast maneuvers here - he'd need to get off it and onto a more solid surface.
Waiting only long enough to register the recoil in his right arm, the machine pushed Vryk to move, entirely ignoring the series of small explosions that rippled through what remained of the mech below him.
Unsure of what to do next, or even how he had gotten this far, the pilot let his machine take over for a second, focusing his thoughts. With a whole squadron up against his lone mech, he didn't fancy his chances of victory. The computer offered him no hope either, remaining silent on the issue.
Silent. Where did that expression come from? The computer didn't remain silent. It only responded to inputs. How could it choose to remain silent?
No time for that.
As suddenly as it appeared, the thought was gone. Vryk found himself several steps away from where he handed control over to the machine, with shrapnel and shells alike peppering his armor. He wasted no time in returning fire, ordering his legs to keep moving forward, and hopefully into cover.
Mharduk had no idea what was happening. Vryk's readings became erratic, moving so much faster than ever before. It was slowly becoming impossible for him to tell where orders to the machine began and where they ended, orders and responses mixing inside the tank and Vryk's mind.
Whatever it was, it wasn't natural and thus was dangerous. As a doctor, Mharduk had a duty to fulfil.
"I'm pulling him out!" He yelled into his headset, desperately trying to get his fingers to cooperate in the shaking environment.
"Don't!" Druhk screamed back. "You pull him now, we're all dead! You hear me?!? Don't you dare pull him out!"
Mharduk hesitated. He had a duty to protect the pilot as much as he could. Right now he could still save him, in a minute he might not. Yes, he would risk it all trying to pull him out, but...
Vryk could not think, and yet he kept moving, desperately struggling to get away from his imminent doom.
The computer announced possible firing arcs. Vryk didn't bother examining any of them. The machine waited for input for a microsecond, then two. Finally, almost a quarter of a second later, it realised it had been ignored and picked one at random - or perhaps according to a predetermined algorithm. Vryk didn't care to find out.
All he could feel was terror.
The machine obeyed his input, yet it had taken over his body. His legs were no longer his, he could no longer feel the safeties of his cannons click into place. He was trapped in a prison of nanocomposites, waiting until the next input request came through.
A distant explosion announced a successful penetrating hit against an enemy Titan. Vryk wondered how such a thing was possible, at almost seven hundred units away. The machine did not answer in a way he could comprehend, showing him only a garbled set of numbers, foggy lines in a simulation.
Vryk resented that he could no longer understand, but the machine made clear that it didn't have the time to work on the simulation. That realisation scared him again. The machine took over his body, and now it was making things clear? It wasn't sentient!
And just as he realised his mistake, he felt incredible pain in his mind and blacked out.
The Titan suddenly keeled over, accidentally dodging several shells that otherwise would have impacted its armor, and all three of its still conscious crewmen screamed in terror before the impact knocked the air out of them.
As the machine's main systems powered down one buy one, the chamber slowly fell silent until the only remaining sounds were gasps for air.
Mharduk could feel the bruises across his body, the broken rib and fingers, but all he could feel was relief. Whatever had transpired, the heart monitor Vryk carried was still showing a steady heartbeat.
Druhk, however, started scolding him as soon as he caught his breath.
"Are you insane?!?"
"He was going to be overwhelmed! I had no choice!"
The other man scoffed in response. "We needed those few seconds! Now not only are we stuck lying face first in the open, we've also failed to delay them! You've doomed us is what you've done!"
"He was going to die!"
"He's going to die anyways! If that cannon goes down, their ship moves in and it's over. That thing can burn out even the Bunker! Do you think these guys will show us or Vryk any mercy?!?"
An impact rocked them in their chairs, as if to reinforce Druhk's point. The tactical officer could do nothing but smack himself back into the chair in exasperation. "Brilliant, just brilliant!"
Another impact followed, then two or three more, each rocking them in their seats. The power blinked once and then the machine turned off completely, leaving its crew trapped in complete darkness for a few seconds before Syndri managed to turn on her pocket flashlight and shine it directly into Druhk's eyes. In the dim light, it almost felt like she was the only one who belonged there, hanging in her seatbelt with a nonplussed expression.
"Are you done?" she asked, her voice equal parts venom and annoyance. She waited a few moments, letting Druhk squirm under the light, before she turned the light to blind Mharduk and continued. "Great. Now get out of your seats and help me down. We still have to get Vryk out of his tank."
Sargeant Krygh did not feel particularly happy about his situation.
The rest of Battalion 16 had already fallen back to the next perimeter, unable to assist the lone Titan in its fight. Not even their biggest weapons were any good against the armor of one of those beasts. They could technically overwhelm the stabilisers and knock one down through volume of fire, but that was a desperate tactic at best. So instead they retreated to a safe distance, letting the mech take field instead, and left Krygh to witness the machine’s one shot at glory.
And boy, was it a show.
The sargeant could not help but wince as the machines traded blows with enough force to wipe anything his species could ever produce off the face of the planet with impunity. Despite being far beneath the notice of a Titan, he couldn’t stop but think what would happen if one of the giants decided to take a shot at him. Would he even have a chance to run away? Or would the next shell evaporate him as surely as it would the hilltop he stood on?
He watched on as the pale white titans shot and missed their first volleys, staring in amazement when the friendly one rose into the sky on a pillar of flame and lunged far forward directly into the oncoming horde. Its movements were methodical, dedicated, and not at all mechanical. It was almost as if this was a battle of giant sentient beings, not highly advanced alien machines.
He could only stare in amazement as the only friendly giant danced through the enemy formation, wreaking havoc on the two closest machines with apparent ease. Even when it fell to the ground, it stood back up with the precision and speed of a ballerina, compensating it’s massive momentum with jets as it weaved past incoming fire. Whatever the machine truly was, it was magnificent - and terrifying.
Explosions erupted from two of the enemies just then, shortly after one another. Without missing a beat the mech continued to move, fluidly weaving past more deadly shells. It was almost as if it knew ahead of time what the enemy would do, and yet more shots continued to impact it, deflected by the armor at odd angles without causing much harm. Krygh found it quite the scene.
And then it went down. Hard. The impact snapped Krygh back to reality, forcing him to turn away and scamper from the hilltop he was standing on. As he turned, however, he saw another mech appear over the horizon and reached for his radio. The rest of the Battalion had to know.
The cavalry had arrived.
Deep inside her tank, the captain was viciously grinning. Today was a good day.
She would drive her machine to the edge of its abilities, use it like a surgeon uses their scalpel to cut out the tumor that was the enemy. One by one she would hunt them and kill them, end their little display of military bravado and give her mech the blood it was due.
Yet as she marched over the edge, her metal legs thundering against the mud, she could not help but notice Vryk first. His metal body was laying down, limp and lifeless, surrounded by craters and the wrecks of no less than two other mechs.
Inside the tank, her grin twisted into a predatory expression the likes of which nobody else could begin to imagine. Her cannons roared with righteous fury at what the enemy had done to her old friend. She didn't care about her chances to deal any damage at this range anymore. Now, she was angry. And she would make them pay.
But even as she marched on, weapons blazing and reactor humming for vengeance, she couldn't help but think of a certain strange detail.
Since when was the rookie her old friend?
Vryk awoke more than a week after the battle, by all accounts a medical miracle considering the overload Mharduk had accidentally put him through when disconnecting him from the Titan. His brain seemed to adapt remarkably well to whatever had transpired, more so than the brains of two other pilots who had been unceremoniously declared dead by their onboard doctors throughout the battle.
However, while the doctors busied themselves by research, one woman seemed to stay by his bedside for almost hours at a time. Nobody could figure out why captain Nerakhi did so, and most did not care. They forced the enemy to retreat, and that was enough reason for the pilots to stay drunk for a month, High Command didn't care if the report Nerakhi sent them was written in her office, and the nurses never has a reason to remove the captain from her apparent new nest.
It came as no surprise, then, that Nerakhi was also the only one who was present when Vryk awoke from his coma in the dead of night. She was on the verge of falling asleep herself, only to be jerked awake by Vryk's sudden scream for help.
The nurses arrived less than half a minute later, finding Nerakhi bent over Vryk as he screamed and shook, telling him it was over and the battle was done. A few would later mention how the once capable warrior had devolved into a crying mess for the rest of his night, alternating between nightmares, hallucinations and incoherent screaming in an unknown language. None would dare mention Nerakhi, however, or the time she spent holding Vryk in her arms and consoling him. All would however learn to leave it to the captain to keep the man from screaming from that point on, to let her stay at Vryk's bedside whenever she wished.
Over the course of the next few days, the man's madness then slowly subsided, replaced by his usual calm. He began asking questions, and Nerakhi was there to answer them. They talked long into the nights, eating together and falling asleep at ungodly hours. None of the nurses would ever hear any of their conversations, however, greeted by a cold silence every time they entered the room. And so, none of them would ever hear the sentence that finally allowed them both to rest.
"I think… I think that was the flag of the PRC."
submitted by LaggerCZE to HFY [link] [comments]


2019.07.23 00:07 StormWolf555 Check out this list of "occult and cursed objects." I really wish this was satire.

A Course in Miracles ACIMAbsent healing, any except Christian prayerAcupressureAcupunctureAddictions, anyAdeptAffirmationsAfrican masks – and other native, ethnic, tradecraft items are often cursedAge of AquariusAir therapyAkashic recordsAlexander methodAlice Bailey and Helena Blavatsky writingsAliens – anything, UFOs, ufology, extra-terrestrials, abductions, etc. (demons)AltarsAmuletsAnanda MargaAncient artefacts, relics, antiquities used in or related to idol worshipAngel worship / communication, baby angels, male or female angels, anything (we can ask God to send us His angels to help us)AnimalismAnimals fantasy – dragons, unicorns, satyrs, gryphons, mermaids, phoenix, etc.Animals images of real – serpents, frogs, toads, owls (owl of Minerva or owl of Molech)Animals – any as shamanic spirits – wolves, bears, buffaloes, some birds, etc.Animation, someAnimeAnkhAnthroposophy – books, products – anythingApparitions, ghosts, phantoms, etc. (demons)Applied kinesiologyAquarian gospel, Aquarian ageAromatherapy – some aspects esp. connected with the New AgeArtwork – demonic, occult symbolsAsanasAscended masters such as Sanat Kumara, St Germain, El Morya, Djwal Khul, Hilarion, Kuthumi, and any other New Age ‘lords’ or ‘rays’ etc.Ashtar Command, Raelism, Raëlianism, Raelian, Rael, and other ‘space’ cultsAstral projection / astral travel etc.Astrology / astrological medicine etc.Atlantis, LemuriaAuguryAura readingAura Soma – colour therapy etc. (closely connected to New Age)AuriculotherapyAutogenic trainingAutomatic writing or drawingAuto-suggestionAvatarAversion therapyAyurveda, Ayurvedic medicineBach and other flower remediesBahaismBan the bomb symbol – broken inverted crossBates eyesight trainingBehavioural kinesiologyBelief systems – any non-ChristianBestialityBhagwan Shree Rajneesh, any other gurus, any religion, Hindu or Buddhist, etc.Biochemic system – tissue salts – Dr SchusslerBio-energeticsBiofeedback, neurofeedback, biorhythmsBiopathyBirds some, can represent demons, esp. owls, crow family, eagles, etc.Birth signsBirthstones, etc.Black and white checks or squares – masonicBlack arts, black magic, black massBlood pactsBody piercingsBodyworkBowen therapyBoy scouts and girl guidesBreathing therapyBuddhas / BuddhismButterflies – sometimes when used as occult symbol for mind control, esp. MonarchCabbage Patch dolls – check the tags – all birthdays are 31st OctoberCabbala – see alternative spellings after this listCaduceusCandle staringCandles – candle magic – often used in pagan worship and dedicated to idolsCard cuttingCard playing setsCard readingCare BearsCartomancyCartoons – someCarvings paganCatholicism and any paraphernalia incl. statues, rosaries, relicsCelestial seesCelestine ProphecyCenteringChain lettersChakras – healing, anything to do withChannelling, anyChantingCharms any, charm bracelets due to connection with luckChess board, chessboard – black & white checks – masonicChildren of God, Family of Love and other such pseudo-Christian cultsChinese astrologyChironic healingChiropracticChristadelphianism and other such Christian cultsChristian books that are doctrinally inaccurate such as “The Shack”, “One Thousand Gifts”, “Faith Like Potatoes”Christian Family Fellowship, Christian Identity Movement, and other pseudo-Christian cults, movements and groupsChristian Science and other such Christian cultsChristmas – an idolatrous pagan festival (see Christmasisalie.com)ChromotherapyChronicles of Narnia (satyrs, witches an abomination)Church of Armageddon and anything similarCircle in a square, circle with a dot in the centre and other occult symbols, see link at end of articleClairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentienceClinical theologyClownsCo-counsellingColour therapyComics – superheroes, paranormal, violence, horror etc.CommunismCompany logos – many or mostConcept therapyConfucianismContemplative prayerConversations with God by Neale Donald WalschCooneyitesCornucopiaCosmic consciousnessCoueismCountry and western and other worldly music – lyrics and/or musicCranio-sacral therapyCreation mythsCreative imageryCreativity enhancementCrown of thorns (used to mock Jesus at the crucifixion)Crucifixes bent, broken and inverted – used in black magic, Celtic, Maltese etc.Crucifixes, crosses, torture instrument, esp. with figureCyberpunk culture, emos, goths, etc.Crystal ball, gazingCrystal healingCrystal skullCults, any – ruled by the Jezebel spiritCurses – by you, or on you or your familyDeath magicDéjà vuDemon worship, any (any worship of a false deity other than the Creator God of the Bible)Demonised anything which may be connected or cursed or prayed over to false / demon godsDemons or devils pictures figures etc.Devas – nature spirits, fairies, elves, etc. – actually demonsDharmaDiasporicDisembodied spiritsDivinationDivine counterpartDivine flame holderDivine Light MissionDo-inDolls – many – some would say allDove ‘kamikaze’ – flying downwardsDowsingDr PeeblesDr WhoDragons, anything to with such as DragonballDream work, dream journalsDreamcatchers – demonic / witchcraftDrugs, cannabis, magic mushroomsDruidismDungeons and dragonsEarth worship, therapy, Gaia, ‘Mother Earth’Easter – eggs – anything – pagan origin ‘Ishtar’Eastern ceremonial dances such as New Year Chinese dragon danceEastern philosophies and religionsEckankarEctoplasmEcumenism – The Bible is clear that syncretism is an abomination to GodEgyptology – figures, ornaments, etc.Egyptian gods and goddesses. pharoahs – anythingEgyptian mythology, Isis, Osiris, Horus, Anubis, Amun, Ra, Seth, etc.Eight BallElectric shock treatmentElephants – figures, pictures etc. – revered in HinduismEleutheriaElves – fairies, goblins, gnomes, imps, pixiesEmotional Freedom Technique EFT TappingEnchantment, enchanter, enchantingEncounter therapyEnlightenment, enlightened masterEnneagramsESP – extra-sensory perceptionEST – Erhard Seminars TrainingET – Extra-terrestrialEthnic or native items – can be dedicated to heathen gods or cursedExorcismFablesFairies – elves, goblins, gnomes, imps, pixies, leprechauns – anything similarFairy tales (‘fairies’ are actually demons)Faith healingFalun GongFamiliar spiritsFantasy role-playing gamesFatima and other apparitions of MaryFeldenkrais techniqueFeminismFeng shuiFertility symbolsFetishesFindhorn community etc. and similarFirewalkingFish – Nimrod – Neptune – Poseidon – Triton, false gods, etc.Flags national flagsFleur de lys / three feathers symbol, as often found on iron fences and gatesFloating trumpetsFlower remedies – anyFolklore – stories, music, dancing, etc.Fornication, pornography, oral sex – anythingFortune tellingFoundation of Human Understanding – another gospelFreemasonry, masonry, freemasons, masons, masonic membership, building, literature, regalia, anythingFreudFrogs, toads – pictures or figures (unclean spirits like frogs)Gaia – goddess worshipGambling, betting, bingo, lotto, lottery, lucky prize drawGames – manyGargoyles (often found in architecture even in churches and cathedrals)GeishaGemstone therapyGenies or djinnsGeomancyGestalt therapyGhosts, apparitions, phantoms, etc. (demons)Gipsies, gypsy – curses etc.Girl Guides and Boy Scouts – connected to freemasonryGlass movingGlobal – unity, oneness, gaia etc.Gnosticism, GnosticsGoblins – elves, fairies, gnomes, imps, pixies, leprechauns, anything similarGodfatherGoddesses, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Indian, Chinese, any – Isis, Kali, Venus, Ishtar, Asthtoreth, Asherah, Artemis, Diana, Lilith, Minerva, Aphrodite, Venus, Athena, Semiramis, and many more (all demons)Gods, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, India, Chinese, any – Osiris, Shiva, Apollo, Jupiter, Zeus, Odin, Baal, Remphan, Belial, Moloch, any (all demons)Gods and goddesses, anythingGods Greek, all – anythingGods Roman, all – anythingGood luck charms – horseshoe, cloverleaf, rabbit’s foot, any – superstitionGothic or emo culture, imagery, rock music, clothes etc.GraphologyGreat White BrotherhoodGreek key pattern all (some clearly spell “Isis”)Greek mythology – any and allGremlinsGriffin, griffon, gryphonGroup dynamicsGroup psychotherapyGuided imageryGuided meditationGurus any, ashrams anyHakimsHalloween – costumes, ornaments, sweets, anythingHallucinogenic drugs, anyHalos – pictures or figures with – CatholicHamsa amulet, jewellery, wall hangingsHand healersHand readingHandwriting analysisHard rock musicHare Krishna and gurus such as Bhaktivedanta Swami PrabhupadaHarry Potter anything http://www.cuttingedge.org/news/hpmain.htmlHats – as other clothing – depending on origin, representation, etc.Healing – any that is not specifically in the name of JesusHeavy metal music – anyHello Kitty (check history on the internet)Henna body painting body artHerbal concoctions used other than for medicine such as in spellsHeroes, hero worship – origin Greek goddess Hera, Heracles, HerculesHex signs or hexagramsHigh priestHindu gods – 330 million – such as Shiva, Shakti, Kali, Krishna etc.HinduismHippocratic OathHobgoblinsHolonomic IntegrationHoly objects or relics – manyHomosexualityHoodoo, voodoo, hex, etc.HookahHorn of plenty – cornucopiaHoroscopes, astrology, astrological charts, forecasts, star signs, etc.Horror, vampires, zombies, werewolves, lycanthropy, etc. any – films, books, eg. Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, anythingHorses winged, Pegasus, unicorns, centaursHorseshoes and any other ‘lucky’ symbols as superstition is cursedHuman Potential MovementHumanismHydromancyHypnosis, hypnotherapy, mesmerism, mind-bendingI Am, the film – based on HinduismI ChingIcons – many company icons are occult symbols incl. cars and PCs, etc.Idols, any – figures, pictures, anythingIlluminati groups, symbols, pyramid, one eye – all-seeing eye, all seeing eyeImages – symbols – http://www.crossroad.to/Books/symbols1.htmlImps – elves, fairies, gnomes, goblins, pixiesIncantationsIncenseIncubusInherited powersInitiateInner healingInner mediumInner Peace MovementIntuitive arts counsellingIridologyIslam, anything – mosque, koran, prayer rug, etc.Israeli flag – ‘star of David’ is a hexagram, an occult symbolItalian horn – long gently twisting shape often used for amuletsJainismJapanese flower arranging – sun worshipJason and the Argonauts and similar mythological storiesJesuitsJesus – pictures, figures – any idolatry as per the Ten CommandmentsJewellery – check all symbols, origins, etc.Jin Shin DoJonathan Livingstone Seagull – Hindu basisJugglingJung, Jungian PsychologyKabbalah (see alternative spellings after list)Karma SutraKinesiologyKirlian photographyKrishna, gopisKrishnamurtiKu Klux Klan, KKK, the KlanKundaliniLabyrinth – more info at: http://www.letusreason.org/Nam30.htmLaw of attractionLegendsLeis – Hawaiian flower garlands used to pacify idol demon godsLeprechaunLevitationLey lines, leylinesLiberalismLifespring, Life Training, New Age human potential trainingLightworkersLogos – icons – many esp. those used todayLord of the RingsLotus position – yoga (Baphomet portrayed sitting in lotus)Lourdes, Medurgorje, Walsingham, and other places of Catholic pilgrimageLuck – word derived from “Lucifer” – lucky charms, superstitionsMacrobioticsMadonna and child, mariologyMafiaMafu – The Foundation for Meditative StudiesMagic any – black and whiteMagic lamps, magic carpetsMagician, magic, conjuration, conjurors, illusions, illusionists, sorcery, sorcerersMagnetic healingMahjongMandalasMangaMantrasMariology – worship of Mary, Madonna, images, icons, statues, anything, catholicismMartial Arts – all and anything connectedMarxismMascotsMasks – manyMass Catholic (unbiblical)Master or other similar titlesMasters of the Universe toys, She-Ra and similar hero and superheroesMaypole dancing (pagan fertility rites)Medicine man – sorcererMedicine womanMeditation – any – leads to passivity, open to demonic influenceMediumshipMensaMental suggestionMental telepathyMental therapyMentor mysticMermaids – Greek pagan originMesmerismMessages from Michael entity, or other such messengers or messagesMetamorphic techniqueMetaphysicsMind control – The New Age is mind control – a devised deceptionMind dynamicsMind mediumshipMindreading, mind readingMindfulness meditation – leads to passivity, opens to demonic influenceMirror gazing – Bhagwan mirror, etc.Mirror manticMK-Ultra mind controlModernismMonismMonstersMoon images or figuresMoon crescent – used in Islam, Hinduism and goddess worshipMoonmancy, any form of moon worshipMora therapyMoral RearmamentMormon cultMorris dancing (Moorish origins) and other pagan traditionsMother EarthMother MeeraMovies – violence, horror, witches, wizards, superheroes, mythology, sex, etc.MoxibustionMummified remainsMuppetsMusic – some incl. Christian rock, punk, pop – sadly much of the music nowMutant Ninja Turtles and similar toysMystical TravellerMysticismMythological Gods all are demon gods, idols, Apollo, Poseidon, etc.MythsNanbudoNative American items, Red Indian any but esp. some such as arrowheadsNativity scenes and figuresNature worshipNaturopathyNecromancyNeopaganismNew Age – anythingNew ThoughtNew World Order, One World OrderNganga CauldronNinjaNirvana (false idolatrous Buddhist belief)NLP – Neuro Linguistic ProgrammingNumerical symbolismNumerologyNursery rhymes, manyObelisks – phallic – often 666ft high with part hidden undergroundOccult letters of protectionOccult music, books etc.Occultic gamesOdinismOld Moore’s AlmanacOld religionsOlympics incl. symbols, paraphernalia, regalia, clothingOmensOne World, anythingOneness PentecostalOpus DeiOracleOrgonomyOriental ornaments, manyOrthobionomyOsteopathyOuija board, spiritism, any form of communication with spiritsOwls picture or figures (Google owl of Minerva or owl of Moloch)Pagan artefacts, eg. straw man, burning man, corn dolliesPagan celebrations or days, May Day, Morris dancing, Maypole dancingPagan customs, pagan ritesPagan religious objects or relics, souvenirsPagan tourist places, eg. StonehengePagodas – pictures, figures – temples for demon godsPaisley – eye of HorusPalmistry, any form of fortune-telling, character analysisPan, faun or satyr – goat godPanentheismPantheismParakinesesParamahansa Yogananda cult, hindu cults and gurus such as Sai Baba, BabajiParanormalParapsychologyPassivity – vulnerable to demonic controlPast lives regression or therapy – anythingPattern therapyPeace pipePeace symbol – broken inverted crossPeacock feathersPendulum divination, MotorskopuaPentagram, hexagramsPersonal growth movementPersonal transformationPeruvian – AztecPhallic symbolsPharmacopoeiaPhilosophiesPhrenologyPictures – any fantasy animals – dragons, unicorns, satyrs, gryphons, mermaids, winged horse, phoenixPictures of Jesus – idolatry as per the Ten Commandments (particularly catholic type)Pictures of owls, frogs, snakes – unclean animalsPictures of pop, rock, movie stars – idolsPictures of saints – anyone with halo, holy people, gurus, etc.PierrotsPinata BullsPirates, skull and bonesPixies – elves, fairies, gnomes, goblins, imps, pixiesPlanchettePlaying cardsPokemonPolarity TherapyPoltergeistsPop stars – idolsPornography – anything incl. pics of anyone immodestly dressedPositive confessionPositive thinking, positive mental attitude – as a therapyPost-ModernismPower objectsPower Woman, Wonder Woman, superheroes male or female, Power Rangers, Thundercats, etc.Prayer beads, prayer flags, prayer wheelsPrecognitionPrimal therapyProphets, prophecy not of GodProsperity consciousnessPsionic medicinePsychiatryPsychic healing, diagnosis, psychic surgeryPsychic powers, sight, readings, portraitsPsychic unfoldmentPsychoanalysisPsychocyberneticsPsychodramaPsychographyPsychokinesisPsychology – good and bad aspects when New Age or strays from Bible principlesPsychometryPsychosynthesisPsychotherapy – good and bad aspects when New Age or strays from Bible principlesPublic house signs and paraphernalia – somePunk rock musicPuppetsPyramid healingPyramidologyQigong, Chi Kung, Chi GungQuakers – another gospelQuan Yin, Guan Yin, Kuan Yin, Quan’Am (Vietnam), Kannon (Japan), and Kanin (Bali), Bodhisattva of CompassionQueen of Heaven – Semiramis, in all its forms – Statue of Liberty, Starbucks, Madonna symbol, etc.Quieting ReflexRadiesthesiaRadionicsRainbow WarriorRainbows – as New Age or any other type of symbolsRastafarianismRaves, DJ dance parties and similarRealisationRebirthingReflexologyReichian therapyReikiReincarnationReligions any but Christian (strictly, denominational as per 1 Cor 3:4)Relics any – religious or CatholicReligious idolsRemote viewingRhabdomancyRock music incl. ‘Christian rock’ which is irreverentRocky Horror Picture Show and similar (fornication, etc.)Rod divinationRogerian therapyRolfingRoman CatholicismRosary beads, rosariesRosicrucianism and similar mystery religions based on ChristianityRunesRussian dolls – one inside anotherSailor MoonSaints – pictures holy people, books, statues – anything CatholicSand readingSanteriaSatanismSatyr, faun, unicorn, dragon, phoenix – any fantasy animalScarabs, sphinxes, mummies, pyramids, egyptology, etc.Science fiction – anythingScientology, scientologists, dianetics, Ron HubbardScouting movement – Boy Scouts or girl guides – masonicScryingSeancesSecret societiesSeerSelf – just about anythingSelf awarenessSelf Realization FellowshipSelf-help psychology, incl. Christian self-help psychologySelf-hypnosisSelf-improvement incl. ChristianSerpents – figures – cursed by GodSeth – any other channelling such as Lazaris, RamthaSeven RaysSeventh Day AdventismSex toysShamanism – or animal spirits such as wolves or bears in this respectShambhalaShiatsuShintoShrinersShrines – to heathen, pagan, demon godsSikhismSilva MethodSkin markingsSkin piercingsSkullsSkull and bones – flag, pirates, anythingSmurfs and other similar fantasy figures, imps, etc. (demons)Snakes – figures, etc. – cursed by GodSocial GospelSociety of Friends – another gospelSomatismSoothsaying, soothsayersSoul projectionSoul travelSoulmates, twin souls, twin flames, etc.Sound therapySouvenirs – ethnic crafts, tradecraft etc. – often dedicated to local demon godsSpellsSphinx, scarabs, egyptologySpiralsSpirit guidesSpirit knockings or rappingsSpiritismSpiritual Frontiers FellowshipSpiritual healingSpiritual unfoldmentSpiritualismSpoon bending etc.Square in circle – and many other geometric shapesSt Christopher – amulet, anything dedicated to catholic saintsStar of David – only in Bible as “star of Remphan” (hexagram)Star signsStar Wars (George Lucas)StargazingStarseedStatues – religious, saints, esp. ‘bleeding’, moving, weepingStatues – certainStatues of Jesus and/or MarySteinerStichomancyStigmataStonehenge and other pagan sitesStones standingStuffed animals esp. frogs, owls, snakes, dragons, etc.Subliminal messages, etc.SubudSuccess and motivation – selling schemes – someSufismSun worship – behind most paganism, figures, images of sun, sundials, sunburstSuperheroes – any, male or female – Superman, Batman, Spiderman, Power Woman, Wonder Woman, Power Rangers, Thundercats, etc.Superstitions any superstitious beliefs such as walking under a ladder, etc.Swastikas anySwedenborgianismSwords- ceremonial and ritualisticSymbols occult (hidden!) http://www.crossroad.to/Books/symbols1.htmlTable tippingTaboosTai ChiTaj Mahal (Hindu)TalismansTantraTaoism, Tao Te Ching, Dao De JingTarot cardsTattoosTaxidermyTealeaf readingTeddy bearsTelekinesisTelepathyTemples – heathen, pagan, demon gods, Mormon, Hindu, any, anythingTenrikyoTeraphimsThe Secret – the film also by the same author such as The PowerThe Seven RaysThe Venus ProjectThe Way InternationalThe White BrotherhoodTheosophyTherapeutic touchThird eye, chakras, kundalini, etc.Thought projection, thought transferenceThree wise monkeys ‘see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil’Tibetan singing bowlsTick – also Nike symbol – Nike heathen goddessTongue protrudingTongues counterfeit (demonic)Totems and totem polesTouch For HealthTrancesTransactional analysisTranscendental Meditation – TMTransformers toys – and similarTransmigrationTranspersonal psychologyTrapezoid – pyramid with flat topTravel of the soulTreasures any somehow connected with idolatryTree of Life – see alternative spellings belowTribal – dancing, figures, most – idols, demon godsTrident – pitchforkTrilateralismTulips (due to origin etc. check history – turban)TV and movie stars or pop, rock stars – idolsTwilight films and similarTwin Flames, soulmates, etc.Two by Twos religious movementUFOs – ufology, abductions, abductee, aliens, cults, extra-terrestrials (demons)Unification Church, MooniesUnitarianism, Unitarian UniversalistUniversal Life Church Monastery, ULC – claims to have ordained 20 million ministersUniversalismUrantiaVampires, vampirism, anything, also lycanthropy, werewolves, zombies, etc.Ventriloquist dummiesVideo games, PC gamesViolence – reality or films and books etc.VipassanaVisionaryVisualisationVoices in the mind (demonic)Voodoo, black magic, zombies, anythingWalt Disney – see many vids on Youtube incl. WD a freemason satanistWarlockWart charmingWater diviningWeapons such as swords, daggers, ceremonial and ritualisticWeather vaneWheel symbolWhite EagleWhite FeatherWhite magicWicca or Wikka, wiccan, witchcraft – black, white, any, anythingWillow pattern – incl. china – esp. pagoda – birds represent demonsWind chimesWink – all-seeing eye, all seeing eye, evil eyeWitchWitch doctor, markings – anyWitchcraft black – white – anyWizards and wizardry – anything to do with, ‘good’ or ‘bad’Worry beads, worry stonesWreaths, of flowers etc. like leis, of pagan originYin yang symbolYoga and meditation or anything connected (pilates may be fine)Zen BuddhismZodiac signs, forecasts, horoscopes, birthstones – anythingZone TherapyZoroastrianism
Link:https://truthinreality.com/2012/10/27/the-occult-cursed-objects-cults/
submitted by StormWolf555 to exchristian [link] [comments]


2019.03.14 21:15 Reason_For_Leaving Gallagher Bassett: Injured Workers' Worst Nightmare!

First of all I would like to thank you for bringing me up in your prayers.
I used to look at people a little more strictly when hearing about injury lawsuits until I found out just how evil some hypocrite insurance companies are! And I’m here to tell you, GALLAGHER BASSETT is one of those companies. In fact, I believe they are the worst, but maybe you know a company that is worse. Sure, I know there’s fraudulent claims from people just trying to get out of working.
For anyone out there who wants to judge me for not reporting my accident the moment it happened, look at yourself first and think first of all the split second decisions and remember some of them were even more hairbrained. When someone has an extremely traumatic experience it effects the way they think. It was also dire that I not go to the emergency room without first having to find myself paying for it knowing that Bullies such as Gallagher Bassett would do anything to not reimburse me. And the fact that this happened to me on the night shift increased the likelihood of getting scalped by them if I went to the ER.
I was a Stand up forklift operator in a place called United States Cold Storage in Fort Worth Texas last summer. Forklift can be dangerous but especially a stand-up reach version. People know about the danger of something called underride. I was a victim of this very thing on the night of July 29, 2018.
I was in one of the deep freezers down in a dead end isle. I was very narrow for the equipment to maneuver. I had just put a pallet of frozen food up on a high rack and went to turn around and get the second one. Something went terribly wrong and when I backed up. I found myself being bumped in the back by the bottom rack. Immediately I was pinned down with the rack running up over my pelvis into my lumbar spine and thrashing me over and over on the controls.
The sounds my back made we’re enough to get billions of likes and shares on YouTube, if only there had been a camera and or microphone recording everything. Just the memory of it makes my back hurt. Not kidding.
I had never in my life have I been subjected to the insane contortions in my back. I struggled with the control stick to no avail, as I heard such epic crackling sounds. My mind had not thought for the emergency button just to the right. The mental picture of what was being to my spine was of cartoon-ish proportions. Something very bad indeed.
I really do feel it right now just typing this to you.
Somehow my foot moved just the right way and the pedal you stand on halted everything. I don’t know for sure the amount of time I was being stressed, stretched and thrashed, but I’m sure it was under a minute, t Though it seemed like forever, and I could think of nothing other than this is it. This is happening to me and no escape. It’s over for me, my back is breaking. No real articulation of words, just the acceptance of defeat and the reality of being crushed and never being able to recover.
It was a very painful, traumatic experience. The claustrophobia was terrible but I was still standing there. I struggled to get free. I was in severe much pain and already had a 5% impairment rating on my leg from a few years before, so climbing was out of the question. I struggled but somehow managed to get out under the rack with barely enough room to spare. After correcting my bad language, I said, ” BY HIS STRIPES I’M HEALED!” (ISAIAH 53:5) and I started walking back and forth. No one happened to be a witness to my accident of course!
Shortly after the accident someone from 2nd shift rolled into the freezer. He was staying pretty late getting some extra time in. I don’t know his name of this Mexican man. He’s an older fella but still pretty strong. He had a pleasant attitude. I told him what happened and asked if he could help me get the forklift out from under the rack. He’s very short and even he had a struggle getting it out but did. I told him I was okay in spite of my feelings. I had already a past leg injury and it was difficult with both now. It was making even my leg hurt.
I got back on the lift and started doing my job again. I had to face this giant of fear, and yes I was shaking. I was very sensitive to my surroundings now, and all I could think of is I can’t do this anymore. I can’t handle it. What if it happens again? But I got that other pallet up on the rack and got out of the dead end with a sigh of mental relief and a sense of accomplishment. The fear was still very real and so I went out and got more pallets. The paint increased every step of the way, and I was starting to really doubt that I was doing the right thing. I told the boss I wasn’t feeling well, and that maybe I might need to go home if it got too bad. I mentioned my leg, but didn’t want to tell him about the back, hoping and praying I could just sleep it off. Boss José being very generous, and kind at work told I could go if it got too bad but to let him know. I didn’t tell him what had happened to me. That’s a big mistake to do that. When you have an accident you need to let the boss know. I am pretty stubborn and stayed a while. But I really could see that if for any reason I had to switch over to picking product from the shelf and palletizing it I would very quickly be overcome by this new injury that was swelling more and more and increasing in pain. So I left and even told someone I would see them tomorrow, stubbornly determined to return. I’ve never been back since.
When I climbed out of the car, the pain hit me so hard I nearly fell to the ground and I hardly could get the key into the front door. I was getting extremely concerned. I had no comfort laying in bed, sitting or standing. I started searching the internet to see if leaving without telling anyone about the accident was going to disqualify me from getting help. I found that in the State of Texas you have 30 days to report your accident and gave old José a call and let him know what happened and apologized. I was getting very desperate while at the same time my mind was trying to avoid going to any doctors ever. And many of you have heard that saying ” Dead Doctors don’t lie.” Yeah that’s the name of a book (which I never read, but only briefly leafed through) by Joel D Wallach and Ma Lan. People who have read it tell me how terrible the doctors are and that they lie. But after going to Carenow and getting their treatment I have to say I agree, dead doctors don’t lie. And the same goes for dead insurance adjusters. Particularly KIM STARCHER OF GALLAGHER BASSETT.
After reporting to the temp service they sent me to Carenow and I walked in with a bruise line across the middle of my back and nothing else visible to the naked eye. I was in serious pain like I was going to have a baby burst out of my spine. They took x-rays and said that nothing broke but declined to do an MRI. And it took 2-3 days just to get medication. And I didn’t want hydrocodone, so I didn’t complain when I got muscle relaxers and anti inflammatory. But the dosage was only 5 milligrams. They also had me on a steroid that did help a little but I was soon taken off of it. It was Gallagher Bassett holding that back from happening. They have tricks behind the scenes and get into the doctors pocket when they can. They lie, they cheat, they steal. They argue with you, accuse you, misrepresent you to everyone they bring your name up to. The injured worker is public enemy one for Gallagher Bassett. Gallagher Bassett adjusters will avoid your phone calls and emails except for when it suits them. And if you have a job where Gallagher Bassett is the workers compensation provider, MY ADVICE TO YOU IS GO FIND ANOTHER JOB THAT HAS NO CONNECTION WITH GALLAGHER BASSETT, ESPECIALLY IF YOU WORK IN AN ENVIRONMENT WITH POTENTIAL FOR ACCIDENT. expect nothing from them other than hatred for the injured workers and the unquenchable love of money (Jesus says this is the root of all evil.
I hate to sound like a commercial for an accident attorney but seriously, IF YOU OR YOUR LOVED ONE ARE HURT AT WORK, CONTACT A LAWYER IMMEDIATELY. IT WAS A HUGE MISTAKE THAT I DIDN’T.
Even though I have several books published, at this point I’m not independently wealthy, so I opted to go with the light duty job at a resale shop where I felt like I was reaching people for Christ, but accomplishing such little work in my condition. It really was bad and embarrassing here I am this big guy, who looks like I have nothing wrong with my body. And nothing could have been further from the truth. So I stayed out on the floor mostly putting books on the shelves one at a time, lots of sorting through donated books and getting rid of the bad stuff, from things like anti American anti God literature, to LGBT propaganda, to gay porn magazines. Seeing that stuff was not fun, and taxing on the soul. But getting rid of it, was amazing. There was also a great deal of racial hatred that turned up. No I don’t mean white supremacist literature. I’m talking about the multiculturalism game. The games that people play to make you feel guilty for being white, and marrying white, and loving white people God created them to be. Games that make your head spin as a society, and forces compliance of white guilt, and obedience to other gods by forcing obeicence to those who worship false gods, of a fallen alien order. Multiculturalism is just that. It’s underlying real agenda is about Who is God, and forcing God Himself out the door. Out of American culture, and out of any place of authority, even in the home. Don’t call me a white supremacist or a race hater. Anyway, back to my blog about Gallagher Bassett.
On August 8, 2018 while on a light duty job at Second Glance Resale Shop, I fell off a stool landing very hard on my back. I ended up with my head inside a bottom shelf near the floor. At the time it didn’t seem as though I had hit my head, but now I have 100% no doubt in my mind that I did, considering the symptoms and pain m enduring. Now it became two work comp cases. For three nights straight leading up to the fall, my sleep was forcefully disrupted in the middle of the night The sensation of someone literally hitting me in the middle of my spine with a sledgehammer ruined any chances of getting back to sleep. And that was with a muscle relaxer before bed! Try sleeping like that? The fall was a direct result of my first injury and a lack of any true medical help. My belief now is that I hit my head on a shelf but it didn’t seem like it at the time. I didn’t get any extra pain in my head, but I knew a guy once who had a car accident and walked away thinking he was fine and later found the top his skull was separating in a line crack. Very scary. Thank God that wasn’t me. So after my fall I was I sent back to Carenow where you are likely to get a different doctor every time. As I was interacting with the doctor, I started to feel this mysterious numbness on the right side of the back of my head. He didn’t really check my head, but gave me Valium as he thought I was experiencing symptoms of anxiety, and I ended up paying out of pocket for that. Well this so called “anxiety” had no fear with it. For the record, those pills had zero benefit in treating it. The numbness only got worse and persists off and on to this very day and have had no treatment or acknowledgement from GALLAGHER BASSETT. In fact, the only thing Senior Resolutions manager Kim Starcher did was raise her voice very argumentatively, trying to intimidate me into somehow agreeing with her that I must have diabetes. I do not have diabetes Kim, no I don’t receive diabetes! In the name of Jesus I don’t. There was a time I came into the Carenow and as soon as I walked under the cold air the numbness was triggered in my head. At first I thought “that air feels really good today” but then it didn’t go away. I sat in the waiting room and viewed that version of Snow White where she climbs from the sewer. It was the beginning when they were riding a horse together. I was unfamiliar with this version. As I watched I became enthralled with the moving artwork, the swirling and spinning patterns as if I was more than drunk. I wondered about what was happening to me, and clearly it was not a normal experience. My whole head became numb and kind of dizzy. The sensation died down when the cartoon part ended but it was still there. Then my name was called and I went in. The nurse or aide or intake worker, whatever they are, she immediately smiled after the door closed saying, “happy birthday!” Right then my head became numb even worse than ever. I felt as is I had traveled through time to my birthday since it wasn’t for another week. And that girl never smiled at me before. It escalated to a level that put me to shame and embarrassment. I kept telling her to stop smiling at me and she just wouldn’t stop. I don’t want to describe it in full. But it continued for a good half hour in total. And then other women started coming in talking to me like they were there to help. I got smiles from one, and I had to tell her “please don’t smile at me…” In fact, I asked her to please frown. When she proceeded to frown, it was perfect. And she kinda remided me of the Powerpuff Girls with just the curved line for a mouth but it was at a very steep slope downward. That I found hillarous since I’d never seen a frown like hers. Then it went away, and the original girl took my blood pressure and it was perfect. Very odd indeed. And Gallagher Bassett was like, “we don’t cover neurological. From then on every time I came back for a check-ups the quality of service was nearly always a joke. And the solution they had was always drugs. And I waited and begged and pleaded for therapy and an MRI but Gallagher Bassett will obstruct you any chance they get. They refused an MRI, and pretty soon had me begging for therapy. DOCTOR SANDRA IMES of Carenow later wrote on my paper “lower back pain” which is an insult to injury. And it stuck. Later I got her again and she acted very confused about me, when I showed up with a low level of pain, and was only trying to be honest. My pain level goes down and up. But there in her office I started to get spasms up and down and all around my back. She wrote that I complained about it, then proclaimed that I was now stabilized and removed my restrictions and sent me on my way! I mentioned I was looking for a lawyer, and the doctor wrote it on the paperwork to warn GALLAGHER BASSETT. But the next day I showed up for the other case and got a different doctor who put restrictions back on. I truly was feeling terrible that day and I went back to the temp service and they said I was going back to work but I showed them I was back on restrictions. So confusing. So I went back to work where pains and spasms plagued me throughout the day. This happens a lot. It’s no fun jerking around involuntarily throughout the day ready to take a muscle relaxer. Again, they had me begging for therapy. When I finally did get to a physical therapist, KIM STARCHER OF GALLAGHER BASSETT sent me to some place where they roughed me up, yelled at me, and bent me around trying to get the measurements that Gallagher Bassett wants, and doing it fast like I was on an assembly line. This woman we’ll call Jill, because that’s what her name is. She kept complaining that they needed me to hurry up cause I wasted their time trying to fill out the paperwork and they had other patients. I had a great deal of trouble concentrating on the trick questions they use on it. So here is this pushy woman, who looks to be on the edge of transgender possibly taking testosterone, barking orders at me in a heavy voice, and making me hurt both physically and mentally. Now that is real anxiety! She had me bending down a certain way and suddenly one of my testicles went numb feeling dead for a few moments. But me trying to be polite to her and her assistant, apologized for bringing it up because it’s an uncomfortable subject. And she being whatever it is she is, replied with, “that’s okay we won’t talk about that.” I went out of there with a terrible uncertainty about my future and of what to expect about therapy. When I eventually returned to start my first session and I just couldn’t go through with it. I told them I need a male therapist. Sadly, I feel that if I’d been a woman or a Tranny, I think they might have treated me with much more respect. And not to mention the patch on my shoulder, of the Christian flag. I often wear it when I go anywhere. In my book “Heartstrings Touching” is a poem called “Wear Your Cross Daily.” It wasn’t until I protested that they started acting as if they were caring people. They proceeded to contact KIM STARTCHER OF GALLAGHER BASSETT and got her right away. They had a number that I wasn’t given and I was amazed to hear her on the phone since I couldn’t ever reach her myself. An appointment was set up at a place with a male therapist, and I was was relieved to get out of there with my testicles in tact. Sorry if you think I’m crude. But I truly was given a traumatic experience at the hands of uncaring folks, and I don’t recommend Vista Physical Therapy on Western Center Blvd in Haltom City to my worst enemy. They have no care for an injured person’s dignity.
The new therapist was much different and careful with me. The Therapist at Premier Rehab Therapy in North Richland Hills went through the process quietly. He asked me to lay down on the table on my back. My back spasms went out of control and it was flopping around like a fish. So that’s what was happening to me in my sleep every night? He said “I’m sorry I can’t help you. You need a neurologist.” So I went away very sadly to finish up paperwork, knowing GALLAGHER BASSETT HAD NO INTENTIONS OF ANY NEUROLOGICAL HELP HAPPENING. Crazy. Then he came to me and said “I think I can help you with pool therapy.” I was so relieved and he said, “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.” So in a great deal of joy and pain I went down to the temp service and gave them the paperwork expecting therapy. But it didn’t come. I waited and waited and waited. Finally I got a call from the therapist saying they were declined and didn’t know why. I called around and everyone I talked to said there was on record of them ever requesting to do the therapy. Finally I was told that this therapist is outside of their Network. How convenient is that? Just another dirty trick by GALLAGHER BASSETT. They are the worst. And somewhere along the line I came across a nurse aid and a doctor that said “you haven’t even gotten an MRI yet? Boy it was getting to be past 2 months already. And so they ordered it for me. Thank you doctor! And GALLAGHER BASSETT approved it by accident and it slipped through. Then I went for this MRI and I laid down on the table and my back started spasming like a fish again! The woman technician was very professional. And she put some Christian music on my ears as my back slowly got still. After the MRI, I called GALLAGHER BASSETT and asked again for therapy and mentioned the MRI to KIM STARCHER. She was shocked that i had gotten it and sounded like she would panic. Then she said she would review the first case again and tried to sound like she had a little compassion, but it really wasn’t very convincing. So I didn’t know what to expect. Then Monday came and I found a letter in the mail saying they dropped my first case and had no intention of compensation. They claimed that I had told a couple worker “that after my accident I wanted to go home due to a past back injury” which is not the case. I had mentioned the leg, not the back, until I was at home. GALLAGHER BASSETT WILL TRY ANYTHING. I was appalled. But I went to work and just deal with all that and KIM STARCHER ignored my calls. Suddenly I got a call from a TAMIKA something at a company called GENEX saying GALLAGHER BASSETT hired them to get me the care that I deserve? Wow what a surprise. But don’t get too comfortable when GALLAGHER BASSETT sends such a person. They are not there to help you. They are there on behalf of GALLAGHER BASSETT and are there to comfort your adjuster. They are the eyes and ears of the adjuster and they might throw you a small bone and act like they want to help but they will try to get you to adjust your schedule around them. YOU SHOULD NOT BE GOING TO THE DOCTOR VISITS WHEN YOU SHOULD BE AT LIGHT DUTY WORK GETTING PAID. SCHEDULE IT FOR AFTER WORK. WHEN THEY SCHEDULE YOU THE THE ADJUSTER’S FRIEND WILL TRY TO GET YOU TO SHOW UP AT THEIR CONVENIENCE AND MAKE YOU THINK THAT THEY CAN’T HELP YOU UNLESS YOU GET THEM PAID TO SHOW UP FOR THEIR 9-5 JOB AND MEET YOU AT CARENOW. THEY ARE PARASITES SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF YOUR WALLET AND GALLAGHER BASSETT IS NOT TRUSTWORTHY TO PAY UP AND WILL DEFINITELY TRY TO STARVE YOU OUT AND HAVE NO CARE FOR INJURED WORKERS WHO FALL THROUGH THE CRACKS. THEY JUST DON’T CARE. I begged and begged for interpretation of the MRI. The doctors at care now all had a different idea of it. So somewhere along the line at about 3 months in, I ended up at a DOCTOR SCOTT of TRINITY ORTHOPEDIC in Hurst Texas to get the interpretation. Just like clockwork it always had to be when I should be at work. And I had misplaced my disc but I had a paper copy of what the MRI service said in language I don’t understand. And doctor Scott said he didn’t want to go by the paper wanted the actual images, which I thought was fair. But they didn’t send him the images and he did an x-ray and used it. So now we we’re back to square one and I felt insulted and embarrassed. But I wanted therapy so badly I just sat there. This doctor Scott literally rolled his eyeballs up into his head over and over. It looked very grotesque to me, and I could see the whites of his eyes very openly and clearly. I felt sorry for the guy. But then it became apparent (at least in my opinion) to me that he was on some very strong painkillers possibly an addict and although he had a great deal of head knowledge in his field, I would be very afraid of having him doing anything on my back. Afraid… No surgery, no injections. I wouldn’t want him botching that up. And so I looked at the x-ray that looked very good for a lack of details and just allowed him to insult me, and say he didn’t recommend injections or surgery. Yes was a relief to not be on any operating table with him. I don’t know how anyone let’s him do that in the first place. He should be drug tested. So his exact words were that I was “DECONDITIONED” but I failed to find this anywhere as a medical term. What a laugh. But he recommended therapy and that was a great victory for me. The way I see it is DOCTOR SCOTT of TRINITY ORTHOPEDIC has the hands of GALLAGHER BASSETT in his pocket. And this whole time all I want is to get better and I’m willing to work towards it. But of course by now you should know that GALLAGHER BASSETT AND KIM STARCHER never stop with dirty tricks. LIAR TAMIKA of GENEX sent me a letter telling me that DOCTOR SCOTT gave me the interpretation of my MRI. Very false statement indeed. But I had signed off, since I was in desperate need of some kind of help and I waited again for the therapy people to call and never got it. Wow. I had to call around and ask and find out what was going on. At least I did know where the therapy was supposed to be at and called them. They said they had called several times and could not reach me. Well can you believe it? GALLAGHER BASSETT gave them an old phone number they found from the temp service. A number that I no longer mine. NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE RUTHLESSNESS OF GALLAGHER BASSETT. So finally I got an appointment at THERAPY PARTNERS OF TEXAS in North Richland Hills at the edge of Keller. The assessment went like this. I walked in and to be quite honest with you, I started judging her right away by past experience. Her name is Randi Spencer and I have to say I was wrong in judging her. She is very understanding and professional and kind and thoughtful at her job. I had asked for a male therapist and she was going to give me one after the assessment. So here it was: She looked at me a little confused and a bit like I was crazy when I told them my symptoms. The only information GALLAGHER BASSETT GAVE HER was for a tendon strain and lower back pain. Maybe even you have forgotten by now, but I mentioned it was a stand-up forklift underride and I’m just happy not to be dead or in a wheelchair right now. So she went on to check me out and ran her hand up and down my back as I laid face down. And my back went crazy. The tendons and muscles felt like she was reaching into a box of mixed up tools or silverware all scattered in different directions and she was moving handfuls of them in all directions. And in a heavy vibrato like she was playing a hard heavy metal guitar. In reality she was only massaging up and down my spine. I cried out. It was very intense. She got in touch with the peer review doctor and told him what was like and what I had told her. He reviewed it and found that there had been a serious accident and approved 12 weeks. I thank God for RANDI SPENCER. And I proceeded to allow her to be my therapist rather than asking for a male therapist. Go with what works. Get something authentic and run with it. And this was authentic therapy. Quite possibly the first real authentic thing that had happened to me since the whole ordeal began. And by then I was like November soon to be December. I was incapable of doing a typical work day like other people and even in my restrictions I felt like physical limitations were being stretched. No more than 10 lbs lift, no bending, twisting, reaching, climbing, etc. or operating equipment. But I’m a driver with years of experience trucking, driving for repo companies as a scout looking for cars. Not to mention many different types of forklifts. And being a professional driver is enough to make very very embarrassed when you wreck. So I take it personal when I so much as bump anything. So I never would want to experience it again. My work day now consisted of me trying my best to look busy and normal. Meanwhile just watching people bring heavy furniture and feeling sorry and guilty that I couldn’t help. And having old retired woman working circles around me and helping me. When I heard the ringer for donations coming in I would go and answer it. But when it came to unloading donations from people’s cars. A big strong guy with no use to anyone, in the eyes of many. People would look at me like I was lazy. So I was always happy to get more books in my shopping cart so I would still have a job. And the fact that no one else really felt like doing books helped keep me there. But one day it abruptly ended and SECOND GLANCE RESALE could no longer budget me in. The temp service was grabbing their money and it was very costly. So I was out in front of the temp service holding a cheap sign that said “STOP COME GET A JOB” and it was my only option. People drove by thinking I was spare changing them. They didn’t even read it and in their mind they saw “HELP I DON’T HAVE A JOB” or something. That job ended when I talked the temp service lady into getting me supplies to build a good sign. I was in the process when two more injured people with much lesser things arrived. They needed signs too. An old man and a youngster. The you guy had bright purple hair. He got my first sign. By the time I was finishing up one for the old man, the purple guy returned saying he felt like he was too embarrassed and went home. Everyone in the office laughed when I said “he’s embarrassed to be seen holding a sign by the road but not embarrassed to be seen with purple hair?” So I finished up mine and went for a couple days until the City of Watauga said i couldn’t hold a sign by ordinance of the city. I was sent home for a couple weeks. They found me a job at the CEC of North Richland Hills. And those people are great. They gave me assignments to keep me busy at a desk. Making phone calls paperwork etc. It was very special for me to be there. But it was also very painful at a desk and I was feeling worse than ever. It was also very a special experience working at Second Glance. There is a select few employees there on a shoestring budget since they are a non profit supporting The Battered Women’s Foundation. Second Glance is owned by the CEC (Community Enrichment Center). I got to the end of my approved therapy and GALLAGHER BASSETT dropped me. They insulted me with having to go to Carenow and be told what was happening. They set up a new appointment for maximum improvement evaluation and sent me away with my tail between my legs. I went back to the CEC and said my long goodbyes, and got prayer from the top person there. I left several copies of my book “Heartstrings Touching” with different people there.
The State of Texas has given me a permanent impairment rating of 5% and before I could even get that information, KIM STARCHER OF GALLAGHER BASSETT sent me a letter saying they have opened my case again and acknowledge sprain of lumbar spine but dispute paying saying they believe I can get a job with the same amount of money sighting DOCTOR SCOTT and his lies. DOCTOR SCOTT never gave me a single interpretation of the MRI and I never got my paper with the MRI results back from him. Maybe he looked at it in the other room, but he made no reference to it, and I never saw it again. I since found my disc a few days ago. I have stopped my meds because Meloxicam causes a false positive for marijuana and muscle relaxers can prevent me from finding a job as well. The lack of medication has destroyed my sleep pattern, and my ears are ringing even as I type. I have made several friends along the way, and some have invited me to their home, while others to church events etc. Also my personal safety is a deep concern, and it much more difficult to defend the weak, or defend myself from a physical attack. This calls for me now heavily favor the open carry thing. And in Texas it’s now legal to carry a sword. Not just a Bowie knife or a switchblade. So don’t mess with me if you just happened to be the type of person that takes advantage of injured people. I don’t have a job and that’s critical, and I’m about to lose everything in storage. And I just don’t know what is next. I have to decline because sitting at the table and eating hurts terribly after a while. Plus the numbness from eating food may become unpredictable and I don’t want to make a scene. It hurts my social life. And whatever hope of finding a future spouse, are being diminished. If this is long term I don’t desire to subject a woman to this. I am blogging by mobile, since being at a desk causes me great pain. I need to publish several more books and was working on a second volume of the book I mentioned. This situation has very badly sapped my creativity and has stopped my efforts to write the books I need to write. All I can think of writing is how terrible my experience with GALLAGHER BASSETT is. There’s been no response from GALLAGHER BASSETT NO CALL BACK. I’ve researched them and found that my case is not an isolated one. This is how they operate and they are not there to help injured workers, and obstruct us by any means necessary. They claim they have no resources to help you but then spend money to send people to your house and to follow you around taking pictures of you, just like they did to me. So I’m wondering about the character of the people they send to do this. If you drop a piece of mail on the ground they take pictures when you try to pick it up. And they do it from the best angle that suits them. They don’t show you grabbing hold of the mailbox to avoid falling. What would have happened if I would have fallen on the street and couldn’t get up? Would they have come to my aid? They are a parasitic insurance company. So take my advice and find another job if they are your company’s work comp insurance provider. And if you have your own company and are trying to decide what work comp is best for your employees please avoid GALLAGHER BASSETT. I may just have to write a book about them. I need you to know that I don’t hate this woman and I aspire to forgive her. But after dealing with her lies and tricks for an extended period, it’s hard to not wake up every morning without a sense of regret for being abused by her and her company. I pray she doesn’t gain the whole world and lose her own soul. The same can be said for Tamika of Genex, Dr. Scott of Trinity orthopedic, Dr Sandra Imes of care now, etc. But it’s more so Gallagher Bassett and their relentless love of money, and daily war against the dignity and justice that everyday workers need when they are injured. There’s something very demonic happening behind the scenes world wide. And it is the devil’s work and claims adjusters are the embassadors of it, bringing you this sick conflict and others are getting sucked in left and right. Hey doctors, there’s a battle for your soul!
Here is the email for KIM STARCHER if you care to leave her your kind words and thoughts.
[email protected]
As of Saturday March 9th, 2019 I received a new letter from Gallagher Bassett stating that Gallagher Bassett on behalf of Zurich American Insurance are going to pay me and it’s pretty minimal, but enough to keep me from losing everything to a storage auction, and from getting my phone disconnected and car insurance dropped. Not to mention food. It pays to get a lawyer when these these happen happen upon you. Gallagher Bassett is known to act like they accidentally misplaced the check they promised to pay you. So pray for me about receiving mine. Ask God to heal me, I’m asking him to.
“For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” Hebrews 4:12 KJV
I encourage you to share this blog on your Facebook and Twitter and whatever social media you like to use.
If anyone out there is making a blog or a documentary on the subject please drop me a line. I’ll contribute to your biggest project for free and won’t turn down donations.
Please comment and ask questions, and share on social media. Thanks everyone.
submitted by Reason_For_Leaving to u/Reason_For_Leaving [link] [comments]


2019.03.13 18:33 D1rtymaca1 List of mystery box items 737 I think .., no golden goose realty

Link https://tstoaddicts.com/2019/03/13/in-game-update-classless-reunion-mini-event-is-live/
Acid Pools Acorn Kirk Adil Hoxha African Tree Resort Air Fortress Ajax Steel Mill and Roscoe Akiro and The Happy Sumo Alcatraaaz and Mansion Alison Taylor and Taylor House All American Apu All Seeing Eye Alley McBalls Ambulance Ancient Burial Ground Ancient Ruins Animatronic Bears Annual Gift Man Apus Apocalypse Jeep Aqua World Arc De Triomphe Ark of the Stonecovenant Arnie Pye Asia DeCuba Atlantis Atombic Bomb Attack Helicopter Auxillary Agency HQ Aztec Theatre Baby Gerald Bad Dream House and the Raven Bagpipe Bus Balance Beam and Gymnastics Lisa Banana Dictatorship Bandit Fort Bare Chested Willie Barney and Bowlarama Barracks Bart Balloon Bartman Cave Bartman Cave Basketball Game Battle Dome Battling Seizure Robot BBQ Pig Beach Hideaway Beach House Bear Cave Beer N Brawl and Lurleen Beersein Wiggum Belle and Maison Derriere Best Snowman Ever BGM and the Jazz Hole Big Bug House Big Butt Skinner Balloon Big Claw Big Digi Ben Black Leather Plane Blackbeard Blackbeard and Ghost Pirate Airship Blarney Castle Blasting Bass Blocko Store Blue Haired Lawyer Blue Nerd Blue Nerd Knight Blue Nerd Rogue Boardwalk Fountain Bob Clones Bob’s Victorian House Bonestorm Santa Bookaccinos Boxing Ring Brandine Brother Faith Van Brutus Bandit Buckingham Palace Buckingham Pay Less Motel Bumblebee Mand Burns Basketball Stadium Burns Coffin Burns Limo Caesars Pow Wow Casino and Chief Café Kafka Caged Tom Turkey Camera Hat Homer Camping Tent Candy Apple Island Candy Kevin Captain Bob Carnival Float Cartoon Motel Cartoon Set Cat Bus Catapult Cavewoman Booberella Cayman Island Banker Cemetery Plot Cesears Pow Wow Sign Chateau Maison Cheddarbarrel Combine Chest of Sacred Artifacts Chester and Unfinished Shed Chez Guevara Chimp Refuge Chinese Acrobatic Theatre Chinese Junk Chinese Restaurant Chinese Takeout Box Chippy Chocolate Chapel Chopper Ride Chripy Boy and Bart Jr Christmas Tree Ralph Circle of Death Classified Records Claus Co Clobber Girl Coat of Foxes Krusty Colosseum Column Mansion CONRAD Cool Brown House and Cool Homer Costingtons and Mr. Costington Cozy Hammock Crap Silo Crate of Fireworks Crazy Cat Lady and House Crazy Plane Cremo Bot Cristo of Springfield Crouching Panda Hidden Eggroll Curvaceous Cave and Cavewoman Booberella Cybord Snake Cypress Creek Elementary Cypress Creek Home Cypress Creek Sign Dancing Reindeer Dead Lobster Death Mountain and Dr Colossus Death to Homer Missile Department of Magical Vehicles Der Krazy Kraut and Becky Deuces Caboose Chili Dogs Devil Flanders Devil Float Dia-Betty and Motherloving Sugar Go Disco Stu and Disco DMV Limo Dodgeball Court Donut Boat Donut Store Donut Torture Device Donut Truck Doorbell Fiesta Van Dr Lenny’s Lab Dr. Nick Dragon Bundle Drive In Theater Drone Duff Barney Blimp Duff Beer Car Duff Blimp Duff Center Arena Duff Gardens Duff McShark Tank Duff Party Bus Duff Party Liner Duff Stadium Duff Statue of Liberty Duffman and Duff Brewery Dunking Device Easter Island God Ebenezer Burns Efcot Center Egg Nog Bar Egyptian Playground Eisenhower 4×4 and Ike Elder Blimp Electric Car Bundle Elf Home Elf Hotel Elf Toy Workshop Bell Elixir Mixer Elysium Project Enriched Learning Center EPA Hoverjet ESBN Sports Desk Eski Moes Evil Shop Keeper Bundle Exotic Petting Zoo Eyeballs of Death Eygyptian Tent Fairy Kodos Fake Toll Booth Fancy Farms Fantastical Beastarium Father Sean Fatov Femme Fatale Ferris Wheel Festive Light Plunger Fever Cabin Fiddler Filthy Angles Orphanage Fire Eater Fireman Apu Fireman Homer Fireworks Barge Fireworks Candy and Puppy Dogs First Bank of Springfield First Church of Lard Lad First Class Lounge Five Alarm Chili Stand Five Corners Flag Bundle Flanders Frozen Car Football Nelson Football Target Football Uprights Forgotten Grave Formless Terror Fort Sensible Fortress of Lonelitude Fortune Megastore and Arthur Francesca and Italian Villa Freakmobile Freedom French Waiter Frink and his Lab Frinkosonic MHV Frink’s Mechano Spider Frink’s Robot Dog Frinkthetic Egg Generator Mk1 Frinkthetic Egg Generator MkII Frosty the Hitman Fruit Bat Man Funzo Bundle Future Monument Future Proofed Home Futuristic Jet Gabbo and Arthur Garbage Truck Ghost Zapper Giant Burning Goat Giant Ferris Wheel Giant Grasshopper Giant Lobster Scorpion Giant Outdoor Fireplace Giant Robot Giant Screamapillar Giant Snow Globe Gingerbread House Gingerbread Mansion Gino and It’s A Wonderful Knife Giuseppe and his Workshop Globex Compound Gold Records on Walls Studio Golden Calf Idol Golf Course Gone Fission Gorgeous Grampa Gorgeous Grampa Bundle Great Wall Tower Greta and Springfield Prep Grub Shack Guitar Central Gypsy Fortune Teller Shop and Maude Half Pipe Hammock District Handsome Pete Hanger 18 Hangman Cage Hank and Volcano Lair Hans Moleman Havana Private Home Health Spa Heimlich Machine Hellementary School Helter Shelter Herb Powell and Powell Motors Hi Glow Waste Barrels Himeji Castle Holiday Tree Holis and Springfield Historical Society Home of Tomorrow Homer Dog Homerclese Statue Homer’s Ballet Hooch City Hootenanny Barn Hot Air Balloon Hot Springs Hot Squishee Station Hot Tub House on Scary Hill Hover Copter Howards Flowers Hugs Bunny I Choo Choo Choose You Train Ice Cream Truck and Ice Cream Homer Ice Palace Ice Sculpture Couch Gag Scene Imaginary Bear Impossible Tower Improvised Snare Inanimate Carbon Rod Monument Incubator Think Tank Inflatable Gorilla and Baboons IRS Drone Itchy and Scratchy Billboard Itchy and Scratchy Bots Itchy Balloon Itchy Mascot Itchy’s 70s Disco Itchy’s Mine Field Jacques and Fiesta Terrace Jasper and Springfield Community Center Jay G Bundle Jazzy Goodtimes Jesse Grass Jessica and Lovejoy House Jesus and Heavenly Swingset Jet Engine Bike Jewish Heaven Jimbo Lucius Sweet Johnny Tightlips and Platos Casino Juggler Julio and Hairy Shearers Juvenile Correction Facililty K9 Officer Kamp Bart & Kamp Krusty Kane Manor Kearney Kearney’s Other Son King Homer’s Skyscraper King Snorky King Winter and his Cave Kingsize Homer Bundle Knifey Spoonet and Crocky Waters Knightboat Kodos Krusty Fountain Krusty Mansion Krusty Station Krustylu Studios Krustys Kristmas on Ice Krusty’s One Plate Maximum Buffet Kwik-E-Mart Central Office La Belle Frottage Land Octopus Pen Lard Lad Donuts Laura Powers and Powers House Le Krusty Burger Left Handed Roadster Life Sized Spruce Moose Limo Lincolns Cabin Ling Bouvier Lisa Lionheart Lisa Statue Little Helper Ralph Little Lady Justic Little Lisa’s Recycling Plant Lobster Island Lotto N Liquor and Mr. Largo Luann and Cracker Factory Luft Waffles Lugash and Gym Lumpy Bundle Macaronis Shed Madame Chaos and Mindy Magic Palace Manacek and Brick Townhomes Manger Manjula and Apu’s Apartment Mansion of Solid Gold Mapple Store Mars Colony Marvin Monroe Tombstone Mary and Springfield Opry House Maude Praiseland Statue Mausoleum and Zombie Mayan Bundle Mexican Duffman and Lady Duff Mexican Duffman Bundle Milhouse’s Trailer Milo and Coolsville Mime Mini Nuclear Warhead Miss Springfield and Sleep Eazy Motel Model Donut Moe’s House Mojo Helper Monkey Money Poll Monorail Café Montgomery Burns State Prison Moog Mount Carlmore Mozert and Concert Hall Mr. Plow Mr. Sparkle Billboard Mr. Sparkley Mt. Krustmore Murderhorn Murderpuss Muscle Marge and Shapes Gym Museum of Swordfish Mutant Peacock Mutant Rabbit Mystical Self Defence National Bank of Springfield Nativity Scene Natural Faberge Egg Nickel n Dime Animation Nighthawk Diner and Rex Nightmare Pile Ninja Homer Practice Snake Nixon and Scandelgate Hotel Norbert’s Plane North Pole Station Not a Laser Shark Pool Number 111 Number 12 Number 14 Number 2 Number 21 Number 22 Number 29 Number 314 Number 5 Number 50 Number 51 Number 59 Number 67 Number 79 Number 85 Oasis Oktoberfest Gate Old English Station Old Faithless Old Gray Mare Old Mine Old Simpson Farm Old Tree Spirit Old West Sign Open Air Stage Opera Krusty Oscars Obstacles Truck Outlands Factory Outlands Sign and Mountain Man Pagon Bonfire Park Engineer Patches and Poor Violet Peacock Lounge Peekimon Park Pet Cemetery Pet Mutant Plant Pet Mutant Seedling Pharaoh Skinner and Throne Phineas Q Butterfats Pie Man Epic Statue Pies and Explosives Pile Pies for Funs Booth Piggly’s Super Smorg Pigs of Paradise Pen Pin Pals Bundle Pinkbeardy Yogurt Pinwheel Firework Pirate Kang Pirate Prison Plane Bot Planet Htype Plastic Prison Plastic Surgery Center Plow King Pokey Police Car Police Tank Polo Field House Pompeii Ruins Pont Du Gard Pope and St. Pauls Basilica Poppa Wheelies Portal to Rigel 7 Powell Mansion Prairie Maggie Prehistoric Jungle Preppers Compound Presidential Estate P-Rex and Tar Pits Pride of Ulster Banner and Leprechaun Princess Princess K and Florence of Arabia Prospector Pumpkin House Puritan Flanders Queen H and The Castle of Equalia Quick and Fresh Quicksand Quimborghini Quitters Rabbi K and Temple Beth Springfield Radiant BS Station Radioactive Man Billboard Radioactive Man Bundle Radioactive Man Film Set Radioactive Man Milhouse Radish Station Rancho Relaxo Raouls Penthouse Raptor Ray Gun Ray Patterson Reagan and the Reeducation Center Recycle Fort Red Nerd Knight Red Nerd Rogue Red Nerd Warrior Refrigeratorium ReNeducation Center Republican Party HQ Retro Lard Lad Rich Texan Rigellian Queen Rio Days Inn Ero Robby the Automaton Robot Robot Ant Bundle Rocket Car and Chester Rocket to Your Doom Roger Meyers Story Rolling Rock Rommelwood Barracks Rose and Capital City Capitol Building Rotating Religious Holo Statue Royal Tokyo Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers and Babysitter Bandit Russ Cargill Sacagawea Santa Santa’s Anvil Santa’s Little Helper Santa’s Plane Sled Santa’s Village Santa’s Workshop Sarah Wiggum and Springfield Aquarium Satellite Station Saxophone Lisa Scary Dock School Bus and Otto Sconewall Smithers Scratchy Mascot Self Reliant House Senor Ding Dong’s Doorbell Fiesta and Senor Ding Dong Sepulchre of Evil Sequel Shop Serfsons House Shaboom Kaboom Café Shadow Knight and Throne Shary Bobbins Shauna She She Lounge Sherri and Terri Shinning Hotel and Maze Shiva Shiva Statue Shooting Car Shortys Sidekick Milhouse Simpson Houseboat Simpson Laser Tag Ski Chalet Skulls Island Slaghold SLH Topiary Slide Factory Smooches on the Beach Snake with Rudolph Sneeds Feed and Seed Snow Monster Snowman Bundle Snub Club Snugglers Cove Sophie Krustofski Soul Extraction Institute Southern Cracker Fountain Space Barney Space Coyate and Pro Shop Space Shuttle Spellementary Library Spellementary Mess Hall Spider Willie Sportacus Spotlight Dancing Bot Sprawl Mart Springfield Animal Shelter Springfield Aslyum Springfield Bowl Springfield Cemetery Springfield Clamphitheater Springfield Falls Springfield Famers Markey Springfield Glenne Condos Springfield Gorge Springfield Greenhouse Springfield Heighs Opera House Springfield Hunting Supplies and Connor Grant Springfield Hyperstadium Springfield Museum Springfield Museum of Natural History Springfield Observatory Springfield of Tomorrow Sign Springfield Pet Shop and Jub Jub Springfield Shopper Springfield Sign Springfield Skating Rink Springfield Welcomes Bob Sign Springfield YMCA and Coach K Springy Spruce Caboose Sqanky Fish Squawky Squeaky Voice Teen Squirrel Luann Stack of Beer Stacy and Malibu Stacy HQ Stacy’s Dream House Stampy Ballon Star Spawn Statue of Burns STEM Conference Hotel Stiletto Scuplture Stone of Triumph Stonecutter Lodge and Number 1 Stonecutter Table Stonecutter Tunnel Stoners Pot Palace Street Cleaner Strongman Homer Stunt Bike Sugarloaf Mountain Sumatran Century Flower Sungazer Tour Bus Super Collider Super Sexy Flanders and Ski Lift Swelldorado Tailgate Taste of Duff Truck Tatum and Springfield Coliseum T-Ball Stand Teddy and Springfield National Park Teleporters (4) Tennis Court Tennis Machine TGI McScratchys The Collider The Egg Council Guy The Fracker The Grand Pumpkin The Gridiron The Grumple The Homer The League of Extra Horny Gentleman The Mayflower The Nag and Weasel and Guy Incognito The Paralyzer The Peek Inn The Scout Master The Stable at the Inn The Wiccans The Yes Guy THOH 2018 Witch Three Eyed Whale Time Travel Toaster Tappables Tire Fire Tourist Bundle Tower of Babel Town Square Training Plane Treasure Chest Truckasaurus Try N Save Tunnel of Love Turkey Stuffing Machine Turn Your Head and Coif Tuxedo Krusty Twirl n Hurl Twonicorn UFP Ultrahouse 2 Unoriginal Log Ride Up Up and Buffet UPA Talent Agency Uriah’s Heap Recycling Center and Hippie US Capitol Building USS Tom Clancy Uter and the Hungry Hun Valentines Pond Vehicle Pileup Vesuvius Pizza Vicious Monkeys Victorian UFO Victors Secret Wailing Wall Walking Kwik-E-Mart Washington and Cherry Tree Water Show Fountain Waterslide Tree Waverly Hills Elementary School Welcome to Springfield Sign Westminster Abbey Whack A Mole Whale White Witch Burns Wholesome Publishing WII Tank Wild West Film Set Wildlife Sanctuary Willie’s Tractor Wilted Rose Witch Marge and Cauldron Wizard Martin Wonder Films Woodstock Wooly Bully Wooly Mamoth Pen Work From Home Station World Wide Broadcast Dish Worm Train X Ray Truck Yardwork Simulator Ye Olde Off Ramp Inn Yellow Submersible Zip Zap and Za Zombie Zombie Sandwich Zutroy
submitted by D1rtymaca1 to tappedout [link] [comments]


2019.03.08 01:20 FeralTaxEvader Capture the Flag Massacre (no seriously, someone almost died)

Cross posted from nuclearevenge because some people said it actually belonged here.
(Alright, so, apologies if the formatting is bad: I'm on mobile. Additional apologies for the fact that I am even more long-winded than your stereotypical grandpa. I was not the one enacting the revenge in this story, but I figured it was of epic enough proportions that it deserved a place on this subreddit.)
Now, everyone knows that children, despite their reputation of being innocent and all that, can actually be scheming, bloodthirsty little monsters, right? We all know this. But it's still shocking at times to see just how far that can actually go.
A few years back, when I was maybe 12 or 13, my family and I took a trip out to this summer camp sort of place in the Northeast.
Now, none of us have ever really been outdoorsy types (understatement), but this place actually seemed to cater to that. It was like outdoor fun for people who hate the outdoors. We stayed in actual houses instead of cabins or tents, we had a buffet and a dining hall, etc. Basically it was just a resort with the theme of camping.
Because of this, the vast majority of people there were like us: families from the city/suburbs who wouldn't know the difference between poison ivy and poison oak. This ended up playing a pretty big role in what went down.
So, one afternoon, all the kids in the 9-14 age group are sent out to the woods to play Capture the Flag. There's a shit ton of us, maybe about 50 or so, so we needed the big area. Plus, being in the woods admittedly made the game more interesting than just playing in a gymnasium, because now you could actually hide the flag instead of just having it be in plain sight the whole time.
We were split into two teams: red and blue. Me and one of my little sisters (SR for Sister, Red) were on the Red Team. My other little sister, (SB for Sister, Blue) was put onto the Blue Team.
Of the three of us, SB was the closest thing to outdoorsy that we had in the family. She liked to play in mud and run around outside until our family called her back in, and she was fast, too. Not like, "first place in the track team" fast, but when compared to the other kids there, trust me, she was fast. So combine that with her massive competitive streak and desire to win, and even though she was on the younger side (9 or 10 at the time), she ended up being one of the blue team's "mvps".
So the first round began. Me and SR hung back for most of it, at most pacing up and down the boundary line to make it look like we were hunting for members of the other team. SR has a relatively mild form of Cerebral Palsy, meaning that she has no depth perception and has trouble using her right side- including her right leg. As such, a game of capture the flag on the bumpy ground of a forest wasn't really her idea of a good time.
The first round ended after only about 10 minutes, with the red team winning. Apparently the blue team hadn't hidden their flag very well, and the red team had no problem swooping in and stealing it with ease.
There was a fair bit of trash talk from red to blue. It was nasty, certainly, a lot of calling the blue team idiots and slow and the like, but it was really just childish boastfulness. It definitely didn't warrant what happened next.
The two teams are given 7 minutes to hide their flags, and talk strategy. Me and SR sat this out as well, just kind of hanging around at the edge of the woods pointing out cool birds and stuff until the 7 minutes are up, the whistle blows, and round 2 begins.
Again, SR and I begin pacing the border, except this time, there's a problem.
Apparently, the blue team had gotten really angry at the trash talking from the last round, and were trying a lot more aggressively to win. As such, one of the older boys from the blue team was trying to cross the border, saw SR, and essentially checked her into a tree and kept running. This guy easily had at least 75 pounds on her, and was enough to send her sprawling to the ground, slicing her face up on a branch along the way.
I heard her yelp and rushed over. The sight of blood pouring down my little sister's face as she tried not to cry infuriated me, and it took all of my restraint not to got charging after the kid and just start wailing on him, but I didn't. Instead, I helped her up, and started walking her back to the picnic tables where the counselors were sitting.
We hadn't made it far before we heard the cracking of branches behind us. We turned around to see SB sprinting towards us looking panicked. SR, of course, tagged her, but SB didn't even react. Unusual, to say the least.
Instead, she started talking very quickly. It was hard to make out what she was saying because she was breathing really heavy and stumbling over her words a bit, but I did manage to make out the words "rigged the flag".
I was about to ask her to slow down and explain what she meant before a blood curdling scream ripped through the forest, freezing everyone in their tracks. And then another, and another, until suddenly the woods erupted into a chorus of screams and shouts and stampeding feet.
In the ensuing chaos, it was all I could do to try and shield my sisters from the wave of terrified children rushing our way towards the counselors. The game was called off, and it was utter mayhem for several minutes as everyone tried to figure out what was happening.
I remember a counselor cleaning and bandaging SR's face (it was a tiny cut, really, it just looked a lot worse than it was). I remember a whole bunch of kids getting whisked off to the sort of impromptu nurse's station they had set up. I remember a lot of crying children.
I also remember the sound of sirens and the sight of flashing red and white lights as an ambulance pulled up.
The counselors called the entire Blue Team over several minutes later. They were furious. It took a while, as there was still mass confusion, but I was eventually able to piece together what had happened.
As I mentioned before, the blue team was really upset at having lost the first round, and even more upset at the red team's ensuing jeers. They didn't just wanna win, they wanted to get even.
There were three kids who hid the blue team's flag- two boys and a girl, all about 10 or 11. The girl was actually from the area, meaning she had knowledge of the forest, way more so than any of the other kids would have.
The three of them were looking around for a place to hide the flag. Apparently, they were already looking to hide it in a patch of poison ivy or thorns or something, when the girl spotted something on the ground in this one clearing. She suddenly had a "better" idea.
The three of them placed the flag in the middle of the clearing, pretty much in plain sight. SB, who was offering to help be a guard this time around, asked them why they would hide it somewhere so obvious. The girl, (who I will refer to from now on as LS for 'Little Sociopath') simply grinned and told SB that she didn't need to worry about being a guard this time around. In fact, she really should try to put as much distance between herself and the flag as possible. She said that last bit with a very obvious "hint-hint" type tone, the two boys (G1 and G2 for Goons one and two) laughing as she said it.
The second the game started, SB said she started running to try and find SR and I, hoping to warn us of the apparent danger. She had no idea what it was they had actually done, but she knew that whatever it was, it couldn't have been good if they were that smug about it.
She made it to us in time (though it's not like either of us would've actually been going after the flag anyway), but unfortunately, no one warned the red team scouts who stumbled across the flag first.
It was a small group, maybe about 4-5 kids, who spotted the blue flag just hanging out in the clearing, completely unguarded. Now, everything about the situation pretty clearly screamed "trap", but these were fairly young kids, so they didn't think twice about charging in blindly to grab it.
They must've only taken a few steps before one of the boys stepped on this innocuous looking pile of dead leaves and sticks, tripping a little on the small hole in the ground that the leaves had been concealing.
All hell breaks loose.
See, what had happened was that, while they were hiding the flag, LS had spotted something none of her less-outdoor-inclined teammates had noticed: a relatively small, almost perfectly round hole in the dirt. Now, if you had grown up in the cement covered city or suburbs, this probably wouldn't have meant anything in particular to you, but LS had been born and raised in the woods. She knew full well what that hole meant, or rather, what that hole contained.
She, along with G1 and G2, had very carefully rearranged some of the leaves in the area to make the hole less obvious, then promptly booked it in the opposite direction.
The poor, unsuspecting scouts stumbled into the clearing only a minute or two after the game began, and in their haste to grab the flag they stepped directly onto the giant nest of yellow jackets that had been hidden under the leaves, causing the irritable insects to swarm and attack the unfortunate children.
That was bad enough as is. The kids got stung countless times, running in a blind panic as the wasps enacted their wrath upon those who had destroyed their nest. One girl got stung all over her face, a good number of them got scratched up running directly into trees as they fled, but this one boy got the worst of it.
Comparatively, he didn't get stung any more than the rest of them, but it did turn out that he had an undiagnosed allergy to stinging insects. Well. It was definitely diagnosed now.
He went into anaphylactic shock, and had to be rushed to the nearest hospital. He survived, but it was a really close call, and he didn't come back to camp after that.
The counselors interrogated the three kids, as everyone else on the blue team sold them out in a heartbeat, SB included.
At first, they tried to lie their way out of it. They started by trying to claim they hadn't known it was there, but obviously they had, as their entire flag setup had been built around it. They then tried to claim that they'd thought the nest was dead, but again, they'd pretty clearly been trying to conceal it, so they must've known it was alive.
Still, they tried to play dumb, right up until one of the counselors got really mad and snapped at them that they might have actually killed someone. Silence. Finally, G1 broke down and confessed everything.
LS had pointed out the wasps nest, told them what it was, and they had all hidden it, fully intending to use it as a trap for the red team. G1 said between sobs that they'd been really upset at the red team, and wanted to get even, but that he hadn't known it would be this bad. Again, we were almost all city kids. He thought that it would just be like a bee sting or two. He hadn't known just how aggressive and dangerous wasps actually were, and certainly hadn't known they could kill someone.
But here's the thing; LS did. She knew full well what yellow jackets were capable of. I don't think she was necessarily intending to kill anyone, but she was certainly intending to seriously harm other children. All over a few childish insults thrown around in a game of capture the fucking flag.
I don't know what happened to them after that. I know for a fact that LS and her family were kicked out, and I'm pretty sure the same was true for G2 at the very least, and maybe G1, but I don't know anything beyond that. I'm not sure whether she could've been arrested for it, because she was like, 10, but if the one counselor hadn't had an epipen on hand (she had a similar allergy), then that one kid would've died, and I'm pretty sure that counts as manslaughter?
Anyway, children are terrifying.
(TL;DR: Member of the losing team of Capture the Flag infuriated by winners' gloating, decides to booby trap the flag with a wasps nest and nearly kills a kid in the process)
EDIT: I'm on MiseryBox, boys!!! Fuck yeah!!!
submitted by FeralTaxEvader to supernovarevenge [link] [comments]


2019.03.07 17:58 FeralTaxEvader Capture the Flag Massacre (no seriously, someone almost died)

(Alright, so, apologies if the formatting is bad: I'm on mobile. Additional apologies for the fact that I am even more long winded than your stereotypical grandpa. I was not the one enacting the revenge in this story, but I figured it was of epic enough proportions that it deserved a place on this subreddit.)
Now, everyone knows that children, despite their reputation of being innocent and all that, can actually be scheming, bloodthirsty little monsters, right? We all know this. But it's still shocking at times to see just how far that can actually go.
A few years back, when I was maybe 12 or 13, my family and I took a trip out to this summer camp sort of place in the Northeast.
Now, none of us have ever really been outdoorsy types (understatement), but this place actually seemed to cater to that. It was like outdoor fun for people who hate the outdoors. We stayed in actual houses instead of cabins or tents, we had a buffet and a dining hall, etc. Basically it was just a resort with the theme of camping.
Because of this, the vast majority of people there were like us: families from the city/suburbs who wouldn't know the difference between poison ivy and poison oak. This ended up playing a pretty big role in what went down.
So, one afternoon, all the kids in the 9-14 age group are sent out to the woods to play Capture the Flag. There's a shit ton of us, maybe about 50 or so, so we needed the big area. Plus, being in the woods admittedly made the game more interesting than just playing in a gymnasium, because now you could actually hide the flag instead of just having it be in plain sight the whole time.
We were split into two teams: red and blue. Me and one of my little sisters (SR for Sister, Red) were on the Red Team. My other little sister, (SB for Sister, Blue) was put onto the Blue Team.
Of the three of us, SB was the closest thing to outdoorsy that we had in the family. She liked to play in mud and run around outside until our family called her back in, and she was fast, too. Not like, "first place in the track team" fast, but when compared to the other kids there, trust me, she was fast. So combine that with her massive competitive streak and desire to win, and even though she was on the younger side (9 or 10 at the time), she ended up being one of the blue team's "mvps".
So the first round began. Me and SR hung back for most of it, at most pacing up and down the boundary line to make it look like we were hunting for members of the other team. SR has a relatively mild form of Cerebral Palsy, meaning that she has no depth perception and has trouble using her right side- including her right leg. As such, a game of capture the flag on the bumpy ground of a forest wasn't really her idea of a good time.
The first round ended after only about 10 minutes, with the red team winning. Apparently the blue team hadn't hidden their flag very well, and the red team had no problem swooping in and stealing it with ease.
There was a fair bit of trash talk from red to blue. It was nasty, certainly, a lot of calling the blue team idiots and slow and the like, but it was really just childish boastfulness. It definitely didn't warrant what happened next.
The two teams are given 7 minutes to hide their flags, and talk strategy. Me and SR sat this out as well, just kind of hanging around at the edge of the woods pointing out cool birds and stuff until the 7 minutes are up, the whistle blows, and round 2 begins.
Again, SR and I begin pacing the border, except this time, there's a problem.
Apparently, the blue team had gotten really angry at the trash talking from the last round, and were trying a lot more aggressively to win. As such, one of the older boys from the blue team was trying to cross the border, saw SR, and essentially checked her into a tree and kept running. This guy easily had at least 75 pounds on her, and was enough to send her sprawling to the ground, slicing her face up on a branch along the way.
I heard her yelp and rushed over. The sight of blood pouring down my little sister's face as she tried not to cry infuriated me, and it took all of my restraint not to got charging after the kid and just start wailing on him, but I didn't. Instead, I helped her up, and started walking her back to the picnic tables where the counselors were sitting.
We hadn't made it far before we heard the cracking of branches behind us. We turned around to see SB sprinting towards us looking panicked. SR, of course, tagged her, but SB didn't even react. Unusual, to say the least.
Instead, she started talking very quickly. It was hard to make out what she was saying because she was breathing really heavy and stumbling over her words a bit, but I did manage to make out the words "rigged the flag".
I was about to ask her to slow down and explain what she meant before a blood curdling scream ripped through the forest, freezing everyone in their tracks. And then another, and another, until suddenly the woods erupted into a chorus of screams and shouts and stampeding feet.
In the ensuing chaos, it was all I could do to try and shield my sisters from the wave of terrified children rushing our way towards the counselors. The game was called off, and it was utter mayhem for several minutes as everyone tried to figure out what was happening.
I remember a counselor cleaning and bandaging SR's face (it was a tiny cut, really, it just looked a lot worse than it was). I remember a whole bunch of kids getting whisked off to the sort of impromptu nurse's station they had set up. I remember a lot of crying children.
I also remember the sound of sirens and the sight of flashing red and white lights as an ambulance pulled up.
The counselors called the entire Blue Team over several minutes later. They were furious. It took a while, as there was still mass confusion, but I was eventually able to piece together what had happened.
As I mentioned before, the blue team was really upset at having lost the first round, and even more upset at the red team's ensuing jeers. They didn't just wanna win, they wanted to get even.
There were three kids who hid the blue team's flag- two boys and a girl, all about 10 or 11. The girl was actually from the area, meaning she had knowledge of the forest, way more so than any of the other kids would have.
The three of them were looking around for a place to hide the flag. Apparently, they were already looking to hide it in a patch of poison ivy or thorns or something, when the girl spotted something on the ground in this one clearing. She suddenly had a "better" idea.
The three of them placed the flag in the middle of the clearing, pretty much in plain sight. SB, who was offering to help be a guard this time around, asked them why they would hide it somewhere so obvious. The girl, (who I will refer to from now on as LS for 'Little Sociopath') simply grinned and told SB that she didn't need to worry about being a guard this time around. In fact, she really should try to put as much distance between herself and the flag as possible. She said that last bit with a very obvious "hint-hint" type tone, the two boys (G1 and G2 for Goons one and two) laughing as she said it.
The second the game started, SB said she started running to try and find SR and I, hoping to warn us of the apparent danger. She had no idea what it was they had actually done, but she knew that whatever it was, it couldn't have been good if they were that smug about it.
She made it to us in time (though it's not like either of us would've actually been going after the flag anyway), but unfortunately, no one warned the red team scouts who stumbled across the flag first.
It was a small group, maybe about 4-5 kids, who spotted the blue flag just hanging out in the clearing, completely unguarded. Now, everything about the situation pretty clearly screamed "trap", but these were fairly young kids, so they didn't think twice about charging in blindly to grab it.
They must've only taken a few steps before one of the boys stepped on this innocuous looking pile of dead leaves and sticks, tripping a little on the small hole in the ground that the leaves had been concealing.
All hell breaks loose.
See, what had happened was that, while they were hiding the flag, LS had spotted something none of her less-outdoor-inclined teammates had noticed: a relatively small, almost perfectly round hole in the dirt. Now, if you had grown up in the cement covered city or suburbs, this probably wouldn't have meant anything in particular to you, but LS had been born and raised in the woods. She knew full well what that hole meant, or rather, what that hole contained.
She, along with G1 and G2, had very carefully rearranged some of the leaves in the area to make the hole less obvious, then promptly booked it in the opposite direction.
The poor, unsuspecting scouts stumbled into the clearing only a minute or two after the game began, and in their haste to grab the flag they stepped directly onto the giant nest of yellow jackets that had been hidden under the leaves, causing the irritable insects to swarm and attack the unfortunate children.
That was bad enough as is. The kids got stung countless times, running in a blind panic as the wasps enacted their wrath upon those who had destroyed their nest. One girl got stung all over her face, a good number of them got scratched up running directly into trees as they fled, but this one boy got the worst of it.
Comparatively, he didn't get stung any more than the rest of them, but it did turn out that he had an undiagnosed allergy to stinging insects. Well. It was definitely diagnosed now.
He went into anaphylactic shock, and had to be rushed to the nearest hospital. He survived, but it was a really close call, and he didn't come back to camp after that.
The counselors interrogated the three kids, as everyone else on the blue team sold them out in a heartbeat, SB included.
At first, they tried to lie their way out of it. They started by trying to claim they hadn't known it was there, but obviously they had, as their entire flag setup had been built around it. They then tried to claim that they'd thought the nest was dead, but again, they'd pretty clearly been trying to conceal it, so they must've known it was alive.
Still, they tried to play dumb, right up until one of the counselors got really mad and snapped at them that they might have actually killed someone. Silence. Finally, G1 broke down and confessed everything.
LS had pointed out the wasps nest, told them what it was, and they had all hidden it, fully intending to use it as a trap for the red team. G1 said between sobs that they'd been really upset at the red team, and wanted to get even, but that he hadn't known it would be this bad. Again, we were almost all city kids. He thought that it would just be like a bee sting or two. He hadn't known just how aggressive and dangerous wasps actually were, and certainly hadn't known they could kill someone.
But here's the thing; LS did. She knew full well what yellow jackets were capable of. I don't think she was necessarily intending to kill anyone, but she was certainly intending to seriously harm other children. All over a few childish insults thrown around in a game of capture the fucking flag.
I don't know what happened to them after that. I know for a fact that LS and her family were kicked out, and I'm pretty sure the same was true for G2 at the very least, and maybe G1, but I don't know anything beyond that. I'm not sure whether she could've been arrested for it, because she was like, 10, but if the one counselor hadn't had an epipen on hand (she had a similar allergy), then that one kid would've died, and I'm pretty sure that counts as manslaughter?
Anyway, children are terrifying.
(TL;DR: Member of the losing team of Capture the Flag infuriated by winners' gloating, decides to booby trap the flag with a wasps nest and nearly kills a kid in the process)
EDIT: I'm on MiseryBox, boys!!! Fuck yeah!!!
submitted by FeralTaxEvader to NuclearRevenge [link] [comments]


2019.02.05 05:04 Aten_Ra Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - Armor & Underarmor - Feb 2019

Due to the Character Limit on Reddit / BethNet I'm going to do by "Type" Bug Roundups and then link them to a main thread.

General:

Issue: "Muffled" Limb Upgrade branch has a legacy FO4 Bug. (Ticket Submitted on 02-05-2019)
The Muffled line appears on both the Arm and Leg MODCOL's (leveled lists for Items) however only has the Keywords for Leg usage.
This seems to prevent it from working properly, and additionally prevents it from being added to Arms at a later date. (Reported by jchamlin)
It effects the following OMOD's.
mod_armor_Trapper_Lining_Limb_ReducedDetection "Muffled" [OMOD:00110877]
DLC03_mod_armor_Marine_Lining_Limb_ReducedDetection "Muffled" [OMOD:00110961]
mod_armor_Leather_Lining_Limb_ReducedDetection "Muffled" [OMOD:0018E569]
mod_armor_Metal_Lining_Limb_ReducedDetection "Muffled" [OMOD:0019408E]
mod_armor_Combat_Lining_Limb_ReducedDetection "Muffled" [OMOD:00194416]
mod_armor_RaiderMod_Lining_Limb_ReducedDetection "Muffled" [OMOD:001957D4]
mod_armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_Lining_Limb_ReducedDetection "Muffled" [OMOD:0034ED74]
mod_armor_Robot_Lining_Limb_ReducedDetection "Muffled" [OMOD:0051C6E7]
Fix:
Edit remove this upgrade from the "Arm" MODCOL's or switch the "Leg" keyword for the correct "Limb" Keyword.

Issue: Stacking of Identical Outfit items Disabled in December (Ticket Submitted on 02-04-2019)
Clothes / Fashion items no longer stack, bloating the length of the apparel menu.
Fix:
Revert that change, especially with the weight limit nerf it serves no purpose but to anger the community.


Armor:

**Enclave Scout Armor - Forest*\*
Issue: Missing from Legendary Reward Lists (Ticket Submitted on 02-04-2019)
All of them are missing from Legendary loot tables, making them by default inferior to other armors if for no other reason than they can be accidentally scrapped.
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_ArmLeft_Forest "Forest Scout Armor Left Arm" [ARMO:002E46B1]
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_ArmRight_Forest "Forest Scout Armor Right Arm" [ARMO:002E46B3]
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_LegLeft_Forest "Forest Scout Armor Left Leg" [ARMO:002E46B5]
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_LegRight_Forest "Forest Scout Armor Right Leg" [ARMO:002E46B7]
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_Torso_Forest "Forest Scout Armor Chest Piece" [ARMO:002E46AC]
Fix:
Add to the Legendary reward tables for Enclave events as a Rare option.
Issue: Slot usage prevents use with any Helmets (Ticket Submitted on 02-12-2019)
Headwear_EnclaveScoutUniform_Mask_Forest "Forest Scout Armor Mask" [ARMO:002E46AF]
The Slot 46, headband is conflicting with all head-ware. (Reported by Archeal_27)
Fix.
Remove Slot 46 from the Slot Usage on the Armor Record, leave ArmorAddon Untouched.


**Enclave Scout Armor - Urban*\*
Issue: Missing from Legendary Reward Lists (Ticket Submitted on 02-04-2019)
All of them are missing from Legendary loot tables, making them by default inferior to other armors if for no other reason than they can be accidentally scrapped.
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_ArmLeft_Urban "Urban Scout Armor Left Arm" [ARMO:002E46A2]
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_ArmRight_Urban "Urban Scout Armor Right Arm" [ARMO:002E46A4]
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_LegLeft_Urban "Urban Scout Armor Left Leg" [ARMO:002E46AA]
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_LegRight_Urban "Urban Scout Armor Right Leg" [ARMO:002E46A8]
Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_Torso_Urban "Urban Scout Armor Chest Piece" [ARMO:002E46A0]
Fix:
Add to the Legendary reward tables for Enclave events as a Rare option.
Issue: Slot usage prevents use with any Helmets (Ticket Submitted on 02-12-2019)
Headwear_EnclaveScoutUniform_Mask_Urban "Urban Scout Armor Mask" [ARMO:002E46A6]
The Slot 46, headband is conflicting with all head-ware. (Reported by Archeal_27)
Fix.
Remove Slot 46 from the Slot Usage on the Armor Record, leave ArmorAddon Untouched.

**Leather Armor*\*
Issue: "Studded" Upgrade missing the Material Swap. (Ticket Submitted on 02-05-2019)
The following Upgrades for the Leather Armor are not properly displaying the material swaps (Reported by jchamlin)
mod_armor_Leather_Arm_Material_4 "Studded Leather" [OMOD:00182E66]
mod_armor_Leather_Leg_Material_4 "Studded Leather" [OMOD:00182E67]
mod_armor_Leather_Torso_Material_4 "Studded Leather" [OMOD:00182E68]
Fix:
Examining the records there are (2) Errors that need to be addressed.
  1. The OMOD's in question are missing the correct Material Swap, likely cut due to it not working properly, LeatherArmorStudded [MSWP:00179C12].
  2. The Second might be a red herring, as I cannot open open the '76 nif's to verify, but assuming the configuration is the same as in Fallout 4, correct the slash usage in the material file, in all instances the first listed material swap is structured as armoleather\xxxxxx and the slashes must align to function.
Issue: Crafting Related problem. (Ticket Submitted on 03-23-2019)
Specific crafting issue with perk combo.
Fix:
Modify the curve table.

**Marine Armor*\*
Issue: Marine "Dense" armor plan Misnamed (Ticket Submitted on 02-04-2019)
recipe_DLC03_miscmod_mod_armor_Marine_Lining_Torso_Explosion2 "Plan: Dense Combat Armor Torso" [BOOK:00437029] is Misnamed as "Plan: Dense Combat Armor Torso"
It is impossible to tell the difference between the Marine armor and combat armor. (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Fix:
Rename to "Plan: Dense Marine Torso"

Issue: Marine "Deep Pocketed " armor plan Misnamed (Ticket Submitted on 02-05-2019)
recipe_DLC03_mod_armor_Marine_Lining_Torso_ImprovedCarryCapacity2 "Plan: Pocketed Marine Armor Chest" [BOOK:000218C6] is misnamed as Plan: Pocketed Marine Armor Chest (Reported by jchamlin)
Fix:
Rename to Plan: Deep Pocketed Marine Armor Chest


**Metal Armor*\*
Issue: Unable to craft the "Lighter" Torso Option (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
co_mod_armor_Metal_Lining_Torso_Lighter [COBJ:00194437] No Unlock or Skill book available, so unable to craft, unlock or add. (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Fix:
Add in the Scrapping unlock function and or a Skillbook to be found and or Purchased.

Issue: "Lighter Torso" Miscmod not on any leveled lists (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
miscmod_mod_armor_Metal_Lining_Torso_Lighter "Metal Armor Lighter Build Torso Mod" [MISC:0019443A] is missing from any leveled lists, combined with the Above issue of no proper unlock it makes it impossible to find.
Fix:
Add into the LLS_Mods_Armor_RegionToxicValley [LVLI:001EAF4B] or resolve the lack of a functional COBJ

Issue: Unable to craft the Material 0 for the Legs (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
mod_armor_Metal_Leg_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:00184019] lacks a COBJ or Miscmod, so unable to craft it / downgrade the armor. (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Fix:
Create a COBJ in line with the other Armor types.

Issue: Unable to craft the Material 0 for the Torso (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
mod_armor_Metal_Torso_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:00184022] lacks a COBJ or Miscmod, so unable to craft it / downgrade the armor. (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Fix:
Create a COBJ in line with the other Armor types.

**Raider Armor*\*
Issue: Unable to craft the Material 0 for the Legs (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
mod_armor_RaiderMod_Leg_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:0018B16E] lacks a COBJ or Miscmod, so unable to craft it / downgrade the armor. (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Fix:
Create a COBJ in line with the other Armor types.
**Robot Armor*\*
Issue: Plan(s) Misnamed giving the impression they are for one limb only (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
Mis-named, gives the impression it's Right arm only.
recipe_Armor_Robot_Heavy_Arms "Plan: Heavy Robot Right Arms" [BOOK:004385FD]
recipe_Armor_Robot_Medium_Arms "Plan: Sturdy Robot Right Arms" [BOOK:004385FB]
Fix:
Renamed in line with other Skill Books / Plans.

Issue: Arm "Mod" cannot be applied after unlocking or learning them (Ticket Submitted 02-05-2019)
This effects the following mods: (Reported and Isolated by jchamlin)
mod_armor_Robot_Lining_LimbArm_BetterBlocking "Braced" [OMOD:0051C6EA]
mod_armor_Robot_Lining_LimbArm_Brawler "Brawling" [OMOD:0051C6EB]
mod_armor_Robot_Lining_LimbArm_IgnoreArmor "Weighted" [OMOD:0051C6EC]
mod_armor_Robot_Lining_LimbArm_ReducedPowerAttack "Aerodynamic" [OMOD:0051C6ED]
mod_armor_Robot_Lining_LimbArm_Stabilized "Stabilized" [OMOD:0051C6EE]
Fix:
Add the missing keyword ma_armor_Lining_Robot_LimbArm [KYWD:00508D83] to both the Robot Arms.
Armor_DLC01_Robot_ArmLeft "Robot Left Arm" [ARMO:0010F375]
Armor_DLC01_Robot_ArmRight "Robot Right Arm" [ARMO:0010F373]

Issue: Cannot Apply the Enameled upgrade to the Torso. (Ticket Submitted 02-05-2019)
The OMOD is available in the MODCOLS, however mod_armor_Robot_Torso_Material_2 "Enameled Metal" [OMOD:0051C6FE] is missing a COBJ.
(Reported by jchamlin)
Fix:
Create a COBJ in allignment with the other upgrades.

**Trapper Armor*\*
Issue: Unable to craft the Material 0 for the Legs (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
mod_armor_Trapper_Leg_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:00110861] lacks a COBJ or Miscmod, so unable to craft it / downgrade the armor. (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Fix:
Create a COBJ in line with the other Armor types.

**Wood Armor Armor*\*
Issue: Unable to Scrap for any Returns (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
If a pencil can give me (1) Scrap wood, a Wooden Torso should give me a dozen.
Armor_Wood_ArmLeft "Wood Left Arm" [ARMO:0012C3B0]
Armor_Wood_ArmRight "Wood Right Arm" [ARMO:0012C3B2]
Armor_Wood_LegLeft "Wood Left Leg" [ARMO:0012C3C2]
Armor_Wood_LegRight "Wood Right Leg" [ARMO:0012C3C3]
Armor_Wood_Torso "Wood Chest Piece" [ARMO:0012C3CB]
Fix:
Add All wood Armor pieces to the modScrapRecipe_Null_Cromponent_Wood [FLST:001CF58E] form list.
Add the proper curve tables to the scrapping.

Issue: Only Available as a 1* Legendary (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
The wood armor, unlike any other Armors found, only had the "Prefix" AP
ap_Legendary1 [KYWD:001E32C8]
Effecting:
Armor_Wood_ArmLeft "Wood Left Arm" [ARMO:0012C3B0]
Armor_Wood_ArmRight "Wood Right Arm" [ARMO:0012C3B2]
Armor_Wood_LegLeft "Wood Left Leg" [ARMO:0012C3C2]
Armor_Wood_LegRight "Wood Right Leg" [ARMO:0012C3C3]
Armor_Wood_Torso "Wood Chest Piece" [ARMO:0012C3CB]
Fix:
Add the following Attach Points to the Wood Armor, or make it clear to the community this love "Niche" armor is intended to always be inferior.
ap_Legendary2 [KYWD:004E89A8]
ap_Legendary3 [KYWD:004E89A9]
ap_Legendary4 [KYWD:004E89AA]
ap_Legendary5 [KYWD:004E89AB]

Costumes:

**Skeleton Costume*\*
Issue: Hat COBJ is missing the correct Keywords. (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
co_Headwear_HalloweenCostume02Hat_Skeleton [COBJ:0050E3EE] is missing the required Keyword.
Fix:
Add the following Keyword to the COBJ in the FNAM / Category section to allow it to show under the "Crafting" Menu. " in the Armor Workbench
RecipeFilter_Armor_Headwear "HEADWEAR" [KYWD:00471955]

**Witch Costume*\*
Issue: Hat COBJ is missing the correct Keywords. (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
co_Headwear_HalloweenCostume01Hat_Witch [COBJ:0050E3ED] is missing the required Keyword.
Fix:
Add the following Keyword to the COBJ in the FNAM / Category section to allow it to show under the "Crafting" Menu. " in the Armor Workbench
RecipeFilter_Armor_Headwear "HEADWEAR" [KYWD:00471955]

Hats, Headwear & Helmet's

Issue: 'Asylum Worker Hat Forrest' is spelled incorrectly. (Ticket Submitted 02-22-2019)
Headwear_AsylumWorkerHat_05 "Asylum Worker Hat Forrest" [ARMO:0016B48F]
'Asylum Worker Hat Forrest' is spelled incorrectly - 'Forrest' should be 'Forest' (Reported by ZanthirEAS)
Fix:
Rename Armor Record


Issue: Confederate Hat is craftable ONLY if learned after patch 6. (Ticket Submitted 02-22-2019)
Headwear_CivilWarHatConfederate "Confederate Hat" [ARMO:0000ED6D]
recipe_Headwear_CivilWarHatConfederate "Plan: Confederate Hat" [BOOK:0050E3F0]
co_Headwear_CivilWarHatConfederate [COBJ:0050E3EB]
The Confederate Hat is now craftable as of patch 6, but only if you read the plan after patch 6. If you read it before patch 6 the plan will show as known but if cannot be crafted. (Reported by jchamlin)
Fix:
Unknown.

**Skeleton Costume*\*
Fixed in Patch 6
Issue: Hat COBJ is missing the correct Keywords. (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
co_Headwear_HalloweenCostume02Hat_Skeleton [COBJ:0050E3EE] is missing the required Keyword.
Fix:
Add the following Keyword to the COBJ in the FNAM / Category section to allow it to show under the "Crafting" Menu. " in the Armor Workbench
RecipeFilter_Armor_Headwear "HEADWEAR" [KYWD:00471955]


**Witch Costume*\*
Fixed in Patch 6
Issue: Hat COBJ is missing the correct Keywords. (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
co_Headwear_HalloweenCostume01Hat_Witch [COBJ:0050E3ED] is missing the required Keyword.
Fix:
Add the following Keyword to the COBJ in the FNAM / Category section to allow it to show under the "Crafting" Menu. " in the Armor Workbench
RecipeFilter_Armor_Headwear "HEADWEAR" [KYWD:00471955]

Outfits:

Issue: Engineer's Uniform has incorrect Slot usage. (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
Clothes_BoS_Engineer_Scribe "Engineer's Uniform" [ARMO:000DEDE7] has visible clipping on the hands / arms.
Fix:
On the ArmorAddon Record below add the listed flags
AAClothesBoSEngineerScribe [ARMA:000DEDE6]
34 - L Hand
35 - R Hand

Issue: Hooded Rages has incorrect Slot usage. (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
Clothes_Resident6 "Hooded Rags" [ARMO:000B3F4E] acts like a "Hazmat Suit" and unequips all Armor, making it a non-viable Outfit.
Fix:
Remove the following Slot Usage errors
41- [A] Torso
42 - [A] LArm
43 - [A] RArm
44 - [A] LLeg
45 - [A] RLeg

Issue: Military Fatigues lacking a CoBJ. (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
Armor_Casual_Underarmor_MilitaryFatigues "Military Fatigues" [ARMO:0016892C] is one of the few common outfits without a COBJ.
Fix:
Add a Plan / Unlock option


Issue: Nuka-Girl Rocketsuit Improperly configured slot usage. (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
UnderArmor and Armor are "showing" with the RocketSuit
ATX_Clothes_NukaGirlOutfit "Nuka-Girl Rocketsuit" [ARMO:001135E5]
As this is a "Pay Only" item it should be a high priority.
Fix:
On the ArmorAddon Add the missing Slot 41 - [A] Torso Flag
DLC04_NukaSpaceOutfitBody [ARMA:001135C1]
If the Outfit continues to function abnormally consider breaking off the Helmet into a secondary item, I know for a fact MANY MANY players would like that as an option.


UnderArmor:

Issue: Brotherhood Officer Underarmor missing material swap in some instances. (Ticket Submitted 02-05-2019)
Armor_BoS_Officer_Underarmor "Brotherhood Officer Suit" [ARMO:00134294] is the effected outfit, looking at the ArmorAddon's the error appears right away.
The "Gloves" ArmorAddon is missing the Material swaps required for it to show up as an Officers uniform.
AAArmorBoSKnightUnderarmorGloves [ARMA:0020DCDA] (Submited by alanthickesdick)
Fix:
Apply the correct Material Swap to the Gloves UnderArmor Record, or move the Material swap to the ArmorRecord and not on the ArmorAddon's.
BosKnightUnderarmor [MSWP:00134292]

Issue: Wearing UnderArmor is causing the total DR to be reduced when in Power Armor. (Ticket Number# 190203-002670)
Underarmor and “Outfits” are triggering an erratic but repeatable DR Reduction.This seems especially true of the BoS line.
Fix:
Unknown, it could / likely is linked to the Overload on servers causing a delay in effects being applied to the player. Optimizing many of the Perks, Magic Effects and other Debuffs would likely net dividends.
Shot in the dark, but might it also be worth looking into the Slot 57 usage most “Outfits” have and their interaction with the Power Armor Race.

Legendary Effects:

Issue: Ammo Weight Reduction Stops working with 4 pieces (Ticket Submitted 03-11-2019)
mod_Legendary_Armor3_WeightAmmo "Reduced ammo weight" [OMOD:0052BDB4]
With Related Perks (Ammo Weight Reduction) the benefit gained caps at 4 pieces of armor, which is odd because some ammo will still be at 0.2LBS where others have dropped to 0.001, so it doesn't appear to be a decimal cap.
This is only true with Ammo Perk Cards Maxed out and equipped.
Fix:
Unknown
Issue: Ammo Weight Does not work on All Ammo Types (Specifically Explosive) (Ticket Submitted 03-11-2019)
mod_Legendary_Armor3_WeightAmmo "Reduced ammo weight" [OMOD:0052BDB4]
Tested by Dropping 10, then 100 of each ammo type, with Weight Reduction Perks off, then Armor on, then off to determine lost weight each time.
The Following Ammo does not benefit from the Weight Reduction Effect.
AmmoGrenadeLauncher "40mm Grenade Round" [AMMO:001CF27D]
AmmoCannonBall "Cannonball" [AMMO:000FD11C]
AmmoFatManMiniNuke "Mini Nuke" [AMMO:000E6B2E]
AmmoMissile "Missile" [AMMO:000CABA3]
Fix:
Add the Missing Actor Value for Explosives to the Legendary Effect.
STAT_WeightReductionExplosives "Explosives Weight Reduction" [AVIF:0052BD9C]

Issue: Legendary Rad Resist is not adding the Bonus (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
Effecting all the Legendary Armor drops, the Rad-Resist Bonus on the Secondary (Major) Legendary effect is non-functional.
mod_Legendary_Armor2_RadResistance "HazMat" [OMOD:00527F6F]
Fix:
Not all of the engine is decoded, but using what I can see, and using Fallout 4 I replicated the combination in that environment and I am pretty sure I have the fix.
Nearly, if not all of the "Sizes" have a flaw in their Design. (As I can test and replicate)
They use a "Set" in the place of an "Add", which prevents additional changes from being made, or at the least results in erratic behavior in game.
This effects not just the Rad-Resist but Energy Resist is also incorrectly configured.

There are way to many "Size" OMOD's to list reasonable, but it is a fix that should take no more than 10 minutes total, but here is a practical example.
mod_armor_Robot_Torso_Size_C "Heavy Armor" [OMOD:0050972A]
FormID,Float
SET
DamageTypeValue
dtEnergy [DMGT:00060A81]

That "Set" should be changed to an "Add" for both the dtEnergy and dtRadiationexposure.


Issue: Legendary Weightless Effect is not calculating properly (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
mod_Legendary_Armor1_Weightless "Weightless" [OMOD:00529A14]
In game many of the armor's either "break" (and begin registering their full weight) or end up weighting significantly more than they should after an upgrade. This is doubly true on Multi-Star Legendary items.
Fix:
Again the engine is not fully decoded but I am seeing a couple things that cause me to scratch my head, understanding both Attach points and Armor as I do (I've got several thousand armor records under my belt)
Most of the Legendary effects have a secondary modifier on them, for example the following: "_PARENT_mod_Legendary_Armor_WEIGHTVALUE_1 [OMOD:004519EF]"
They all modify the value, but are all pointing at the same Attach point keyword, which is already populated,
ap_armor_Tier "Material" [KYWD:000536C6]
Generally speaking you can only have one "OMOD" attached to a single AP, the last in line kicks the previous one off, so not sure how this functions for calculating the value of items.
The only other thing, when comparing the "Ultralight" vs the Legendary effect, which are for all intents and purposes the same, is the "Priority" value of 100 (NAM1).
Again a guess, but wondering if a higher priority in sorting OMOD's is causing the calculation of the weight to be "Off" in some instances and completely break in others (25 pound, Reduced Weight Missile Launchers for example)

Issue: Legendary Armor Effects Cluster on Specific Limb "sides" and other oddities (Ticket Submitted 02-04-2019)
Sample size was more than 2*+ 3,000 legendary armors collected since beta started, with 6,023 pounds of Legendary Armor (after perks). Recording ended in the middle of December 2018.
Disproportionally high Light (and Medium Armor) drop rates post level 50.
A full 3/4ths was Light or Medium… 2/3rds of that being Light Armor. This affects Combat and Raider more than Metal and Leather.
Once I broke level 250 (End of December) the rate balanced a bit.
Left Limbs drop a full 20 to 50% more frequently than right.
Specific Legendary Prefixes were exceptions however, for Example Mutants and Nocturnal, I saw the inverse happen, almost no left limb drops, but 20 Mutant arm rights.
This becomes an issue with 2* & 3* Legendary items.
Fix:
Unknown, could be RNG gods frowning on the 4 people who worked with me on this study,

QoL:

Coming soon.

Please add bugs and suggestions that have been missed.


Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - Armor & Underarmor - Feb 2019
Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - NPC's - Feb 2019
Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - Perks - Feb 2019
Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - Power Armor - Feb 2019
Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - Quests - Feb 2019
Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - UI, Display and Graphics - Feb 2019
Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - Weapons - Feb 2019


submitted by Aten_Ra to fo76 [link] [comments]


2019.01.23 16:52 Aten_Ra Unofficial but Comprehensive Bug Roundup - Jan 2019 Edition

Bugs

Player:
-Last logout location frequently fails to save or update to last discovered location:
Often locking to last “Death and Respawn” location. Results in logging into odd and dangerous situations. Especially problematic for “Mule” characters.

-About one in ten times no “Paper Bag” container is created when a player drops an item:
This is one of the main methods of trading due to the massive lag caused by doing the standard trade process. This bug causes tons of lost items and massive amounts of anger and frustration.
-Frequent Deaths while logging in, include "Chain Deaths".
Multiple examples of players dying multiple times while logging in, especially problematic if someone was Disconnected / CTD'ed while out of Power Armor and log into a "Nuked Zone". Personally died at one point NINE times, resulting in a Endless Loadscreen loop, before I Alt-F4'ed and quit out of frustration Also reported by SalTSalvo and others.

-RNG is Seeded:
I am not sure if its account or Character based, but there is a “Seeded” Random Number Generator. Extensive testing has been done, from several hundred vendor interactions, several hundred treasure maps (same location) and a couple thousand legendary drops. I can't see any other explanation.
Constantly “Character A” (14 Luck) will loot average to below average in situations, where “Character B” (5 Luck) loots Above average to Exceptional, which is counter to what we understand when “Character A” has significantly higher luck than “Character B”.
Examples include:
WhiteSprings: (x4 2 hour nuke sessions tracked)
A Couple thousand Legendaries looted and tracked, “Character B” Looteded at least x8 Two Shot weapons Each time, with up to half of them being TSE. In 2 of the 4 Instances duplicate Exceptional TSE’s were looted (Handmades, Gatling Guns). “Character A” Looted an average of x2 Two Shot weapons and x0 TSE’s in each WhiteSprings run. “Character B” Also looted about 20% more 3*** Legendaries off the exact same kills, in a couple instances looting 3*** of the same creature “Character A” Looted a 1* or 2**.
Vendor Interactions: (100 Vendor Interactions)
“Character B” had 40% More Rare plans and Mods. Tested at the Enclave he purchased x3 X-01 Jetpacks and x5 X-01 Calibrated Shocks. “Character A” Purchased x1 Calibrated Shocks.
Treasure Maps: (Cranberry Bog, 50 Treasure maps were used)
“Character B” Loots several rare plans, including x6 T-60 Power Armor Pieces (to construct) and Mod Plans, “Character A” Looted x1 T-60 Power Armor Pieces and x4 “Motion Assist Servos” (Most Common Tier 1 Plan).
More tests were done, but these were tracked and the most striking. The “Seeding” Idea came to being after the 3rd WhiteSprings run a friend looted multiple TSE’s. I honestly thought he was jerking me around until we actually took the time to compile the data.
**Edit**
Others are starting to see the same thing, especially linked to the repeated looting of specific Legendary effects and here is an Example from dispoogaloo
Software:
Increased Instability reported since last update:
Acrossed all platforms, but heavily reported on PC. The last patch seem to either resolve instability for some, or in more cases increase instability significant. In my case I had ZERO CTD's before the January Update, and I now get as many as 4 Application crashed an Hour. Often before the client side crash occurs there will be an audio stutter. In other cases the Load screen will show odd distortion like inverted colors.
Example Posts: Bakkusa, DestaZalinto, Dizzyrooster8; here_for_the_love;
Windows Error logs often reports it related to: ucrtbase.dll, d3d11.dll, with Exception code: 0xc0000005. based on research could be linked to a Windows update conflict, Change in memory usage inside an application causing a fault, or DXT 12 issue.
Some users [PC] have seen increased performance and stability by manually forcing CPU Affinity to assigned cores when they have 6 or more cores.

Multiple Tasks:
When the game process is unexpectedly ended, usually as a result of a CTD or Alt-F4, there will often be one or more extra processes running in the background that eat up significant resources, but are not actually an open game instance. Up to 6 additional instances of FO76 have been observed running, identified after game FPS were reduced to single digits. The Average FPS loss when one of the Background tasks is open is about 15 FPS. Additional multiple users have reported the Voice Chat being “Live” after a CTD and they didn’t log back in, reporting friends hearing their conversations. Still a reported issue.

Endless Loadscreen when Switching worlds from an Interior Cell:
On high level characters (125+), a notable percentage of the time when switching servers to join a friend, avoid a nuke, or farm, an endless load screen. I’ve personally recorded more than 24, and the record wait time for it to “load” before Alt-F4’ing is 19 minutes. Additionally the Character will Load in game, and can be attacked and killed by NPC’s, but the player never receives the final handshake. Still reported to be an issue.

Achievements:
Still an issue with non-Beta characters getting the correct Achievements, 'Fallout Forever' for example (reported by Objectioner27) and multiple people have reported unlocking the '76 Achievements for various things but the "50" version, such as lockpicking does not unlock.
Combat:
Ranged:
- Ranged stealth attacks often result in no damage, health recovery, or damage followed immediately by health recovery of the enemy. (Submitted by gmillerii)

Armor:
ALL:
Weightless bugs out and gives full weight, requires you to swap a mod on the item to fix the weight.
Legendary Armor does not properly display "Size"... Due to the way the INNR is configured, and it is a VERY easy fix.

recipe_DLC03_miscmod_mod_armor_Marine_Lining_Torso_Explosion2 "Plan: Dense Combat Armor Torso" [BOOK:00437029] (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Misnamed as "Plan: Dense Combat Armor Torso" so it is impossible to tell the difference between the Marine armor and combat armor.

co_Headwear_HalloweenCostume01Hat_Witch [COBJ:0050E3ED]
co_Headwear_HalloweenCostume02Hat_Skeleton [COBJ:0050E3EE]
Both Missing the required Keyword (RecipeFilter_Armor_Headwear "HEADWEAR" [KYWD:00471955]) to make it show up under the "Crafting" Menu.

mod_armor_RaiderMod_Leg_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:0018B16E]
co_mod_armor_Metal_Lining_Torso_Lighter [COBJ:00194437] (Credit to ApoAlaia)
No Unlock or MiscMod available, so unable to craft, unlock or add.

mod_armor_Metal_Torso_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:00184022]
mod_armor_Metal_Leg_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:00184019]
mod_armor_RaiderMod_Leg_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:0018B16E]
mod_armor_Trapper_Leg_Material_0 "Standard" [OMOD:00110861] (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Missing COBJ, so it cannot be reverted to the base material.

mod_armor_Robot_Torso_Material_2 "Enameled Metal" [OMOD:0051C6FE] (Credit to ApoAlaia)
Missing COBJ, so it cannot be crafted.

recipe_Armor_Robot_Heavy_Arms "Plan: Heavy Robot Right Arms" [BOOK:004385FD]
recipe_Armor_Robot_Medium_Arms "Plan: Sturdy Robot Right Arms" [BOOK:004385FB]
Mis-named, gives the impression it's Right arm only.

Armor_BoS_Underarmor_BOSFatigues "Brotherhood Fatigues" [ARMO:00056738]
Armor_Casual_Underarmor_MilitaryFatigues "Military Fatigues" [ARMO:0016892C]
Missing COBJ

Armor_EnclaveScoutUniform_Armor (All)
All of them are missing from Legendary loot tables, making them by default inferior to other armors if for no other reason than they can be accidentally scrapped.
ATX_Clothes_NukaGirlOutfit "Nuka-Girl Rocketsuit" [ARMO:001135E5]
Force Unequips UnderArmors with gloves. As a Cosmetic only outfit this needs to be fixed, especially as a CASH item. It's directly linked to glove usage conflict. (Reported by the__artful__dodger)

Legendary:
-Disproportionally high Light (and Medium Armor) drop rates at level 50. A full 3/4ths was Light or Medium… 2/3rds of that being Light Armor. This affects Combat and Raider ore than Metal and Leather.
Left Limbs drop a full 20 to 50% more frequently than right. Mutants and Nocturnal are the exception, I saw the inverse happen, almost no left limb drops, but 20 Mutant arm rights.
See photo Example (if supported).
Sample size was more than 3,000 legendary armors collected since beta started, with 6,023 pounds of Legendary Armor (after perks).

-Weightless:
Only seems to be Weightless if you also take the “UltraLite” Misc option, otherwise won’t work with Chameleon.

-Rad Resistance: (Xbox)
Reported by markgatty, multiple items with the Legendary Prefix are not adding the Rad Resistance when inspected or worn. https://xboxdvr.com/gamemark-error-404/video/65097925

Stacking:
Clothes / Fashion items no longer stack, bloating the length of the apparel menu.

Robot, Marine, DLC Armors:
Total DR + ER + RR makes it hard to justify non-legendary versions. Robot Armor is especially bad at higher levels.

Wood:
Scraps for nothing. Since I get multiple wood from the stock of a gun, seems like I should get a couple from a breastplate.

UnderArmor:
Certain Underarmors reduce your Power Armor’s maximum armor value if worn (Brotherhood for example) (Submitted by Its_Syxx)

Hooded Rags:
Hooded Rags outfit is treated like a Hazmat Suit and removes all armor. (Submitted by Its_Syxx)

Clothes_BoS_Engineer_Scribe "Engineer's Uniform" [ARMO:000DEDE7]:
Clipping Issue with hands, Verified in ESM Hand Slots in the ArmorAddon are missing, which results in Gloves and Hands Rendering. (Submitted by Its_Syxx, Verified by Thirdstorm)

Camps / Settlement:
Camps that cannot be placed for one reason or another, a number of items refuse to place if another person built them for you, such as Lights, some walls, Water Purifiers, Piano’s, etc, causing great waste and frustration.
We understand it was in the patch notes, but it’s frustrating as hell when it comes to expensive Workshop items.

Harvestable:
Plants will often not show the correct visual cue they are ready to be harvested (Corn on the Stalk), but can be harvested.

Logon:
During log on, your settlement turrets can injure or kill you, if they are firing through you towards an enemy. Additionally, you can go hostile if you swing and hit your own settlements objects in the first seconds after the screen resolves while trying to kill a hostile NPC. (Happened Twice)​

Nuke Zone:
Logging on in a location that has been nuked, but after the nuke has dropped, will sometimes result in the entire camp being destroyed.

Repair CTD:
Occurring even with camps with less than 100% usage, if more than 70% of the camp is destroyed and you attempt to repair at the “C.A.M.P.” you will hard CTD Instantly almost always. Above 90% you will CTD every time until you manually repair a specific percentage. It appears to be atleast in part linked to Harvestable plans.

Work Benches:
-Power Armor Workbench:
From time to time locks your Power Armor, reports in use by someone else, in your own settlement, and will not let you re-enter.

Consumables:
- Items that add END do not increase HP.

Stealth Boy III:
- In some cases, item cannot be activated. In some cases, activating item does not grant Chameleon. In some cases, activating item grants Chameleon but does not consume the Stealth Boy III. (Submitted by Lava_Croft, phreakinfinity)

Crafting:
Tinkers Workbench:
-Bulk Antiseptic is Missing from the Bench
-Bulk Asbestos is Missing from the Bench
-Bulk Crystal is Missing from the Bench
-Bulk Fiber Optics is Missing from the Bench
-Bulk FiberGlass is Missing from the
-Bulk Screws Missing from the Bench
-Several Bulk Items should use Glass and not Plastic (Acid for Example).

Crafting General:
It is possible to cause server instability and even crash the server instance with crafting “spam”. A slider would resolve this.
Emotes:
Animations for emotes, after playing a while or encountering other players, just stop playing. This only resolves when rejoining serve restarting the game. Seems to be an issue when playing with a controller on PC (Xbox One controller in reported cases) . (Reported by RebelOfWar)

Friends List:
-Large Friends lists result in it being unable to sync.
It seems to cause an "overflow" error and a "Unable to Sync your Friends List. Your Friends list will be temporarily unavailable. Please try again later". This will persist for days at a time, and results in erratic behavior when "Friends" attempt to join you. Often they will either end up in a different server instance but be given the option to start a Team, or correctly join your server instance, but be unable to create a team with you. For all Intents and purposes makes the game unplayable in a co-op sense. Only consistent fix is to remove friends until the list stabilizes, to fix recently I had to remove about 40 friends, dropping to about 50, to make the interface stable
-People on the Friends list showing as "Online" or "Offline" when the inverse is true.
When joining the "Online" it becomes clear quickly the friends list was displaying out of order, and the incorrect name was displayed, as a different "Friend" is found on the server.

Inventory:
-Phantom Weight:
Items taking up weight and unable to be seen or dropped. (Still an issue with Jan 2019 Patch)
-Non-Junk Items marked as Junk: (Still an issue with Jan 2019 Patch)
Thank you for fixing the Harness Masses, but could you please fix this for "Mods" and the Junk Robot models?
-MiscMods Marked as Junk:
Many people report high quality MiscMods that were being saved were auto scrapped as junk when they were short one Aluminum. Adding the Keyword NoAutoScrapJunk [KYWD:004ECBA8] will resolve this. (Still an issue with Jan 2019 Patch)
-Vanishing Items:
MANY People are reporting vanishing items when being Disconnected or switching servers. This is not limited to recently looted items. Personally lost my Power Armor's Right arm x3 times, and 2 hotkeyed weapons, and I had not dropped / sold anything in the previous gaming period.
Example Posts: Post 1; Lilexx;

Legendries:
Armor:
-Disproportionally Light (and Medium Armor) drops most frequently at level 50. A full 3/4ths was Light or Medium… 2/3rds of that being Light Armor. This Effects Combat and Raider More than Metal and Leather.
Left limbs drop a full 20 to 50% more frequently than right. Mutants and Nocturnal armor is the exception, I saw the inverse happen, almost no left limb drops, but 20 Mutant Arm, Rights.
See photo Example (if supported). https://imgur.com/gallery/rbQHvsr
Sample size was more than 3,000 legendary armors collected since Beta Began, with 6,000+ LBS. of Legendary armor (after perks).

Furious:
Does not effectively work on RippeBuzzBlade. Some reports of it working better with the Jan 2019 patch.

Weightless:
Frequently bugs out giving full weight, requires changing mods to correct, which is expensive to impossible at times.

Vampire:
Does not effectively work on RippeBuzzBlade. Some reports of it working better with the Jan 2019 patch.

mod_Legendary_Armor3_LessDamageBlocking "Cavalier's" [OMOD:00527F76]
Has the same name as mod_Legendary_Armor3_LessDamageSprinting "Cavalier's" [OMOD:00527F77], causing confusion.

Level Lists:
Power Armor Plans:
Both the Vendor and In world placed plans default to the “Motion Assist Servos” 97/100 times.
Checking the BOS vendor in Watoga 110 times on both a level 210+ and a Level 45 nearly 95 out of 100 times it is Motion Activated Servos, and in the rare Instance it’s not, Hydralic bracers was the most common default.
Out of more than 220 times checked, between two characters I never saw a Tier 5 plan. The world drops in the “CranBerry” area were effectively the same, but harder to check due to the number of times the in-world item was already taken, but I was able to, between the 2 characters find plans over 100 times.
Oddly the few placed Power Armor MiscMods seem to spawn with the correct random Seeding.
Scorched Beast Drops:
I have received more than 15 “Ultracite Explosive vents”… In about 100 Scorch beast kills, I think this table could use a little love.

Lighting / FX:
Godrays still going through geometry: ​Sunrays still occasionally appear through plain ground (mountain slopes) or building walls. Didn't seem to be an issue in Fallout 4. (Reported by RebelofWar)

Locations:
-White Springs:
Artisan’s Row Shoppers Sign, Z clipping on South side of sign.

-Cranberry Bog: Monorail Elevator:
Will no longer take players to the upper levels. Pushing a button inside deposits them back on the ground near the location. (Reported by KedrickGale)
Mutations:
-Increased Carry weight from Marsupial will sometimes be missing. (Submitted by Its_Syxx)

-Plague Walker:
Appears to affect Friendly / Neutral NPC’s (Vendor Bot Phoenix for Example) when trading.
Also targets settlements own Brahmin.
NPCs:
NPC Vendors:
-Food Dehyrators in their "Junk" list show as "Zero" Caps and when you attempt to buy it result in a "Trade Failed on Server" and locks the vendors inventory, you need to exit and re-enter the trade window to continue transactions. Confirmed on the WhiteSpring Station Vendor.

Feral Ghouls:
-Frequent T-Posing Still occurring.
-Rare, but still occurring "Headless" Ghouls, effecting non-glowing ones specifically.
Scorched Beast:
-Not all players attacking and doing damage will get XP and loot. Still happening after the 12/04/2015 Patches, I killed 25 Scorchbeasts solo and 3 gave no loot, all 3 were fresh spawns.
-Often they will spawn with “Endless AP” doing chain shouts and never land. I’ve personally baited one around for 17 minutes, in clear terrain, and not had it land once, I broke 3 weapons shooting it down.

Scorched Queen:
Still is not giving “appropriate” Loot, I’ve killed her 6 times since 12/04/2018 and 1 out of 6 times I received no loot (but was a major damage dealer) 2 of the 5 remaining times I received no Legendary, and in 2 of the 3 times I did receive a legendary twice they were 1 Star Legendries below level 40, and Light Armor to boot. This would be EASY to fix by changing her loot table to “Best” which would result in atleast the Armor Records coming out as Medium or Heavy, which to be honest is only reasonable considering the difficulty.

Scorched (Humaniod):
Animations broken for majority of non-basic weapons.
Sergeant / General Gutsy:
Some variants have exceptionally high HP and damage output compared to others, I personally enjoy the challenge but if they could be consistent it would be much better.

General NPC:
-NPC will from time to time mid fight reset, resulting in a mostly dead NPC reverting to 100% health but maintaining aggro.
-Loot is still exceptionally poor for the difficulty of the encounters for most players.
Legendary NPCs:
-Frequently giving No loot.
-Level 40 to 68 Legendary NPC’s often giving level 35, or even level 15 Legendary drops
-Super Mutant Legendary NPC’s without a star seem to be cowardly or have a broken AI, as they announce a retreat and flee from the player.
-Inconsistent reward (See “RNG Seeding”) Player A and Player B, in the same group, will sometimes receive different *** Grade Legendaries.

Perks:
-Class Freak:
Will break if "Strange In Numbers" is also used and a Party change occurs. UnEquipping and Re-Equipping will usually fix, however sometimes requires a logout.

-Luck of the Draw
Stops working for some people, not "proc'ing" for entire game sessions, for others it proc's but does not repair the weapon equipped. Testing with a 15 base luck, because I could not get it to trigger more than once or twice an hour. (Reported by OceanSlim)

-Strange in Numbers:
Will often break both Calculated numbers and also the Perk "Class Freak" if a party change occurs. UnEquipping and Re-Equipping will usually fix, however sometimes requires a logout.

Plans:
- There is no implemented UI documenting known plans, recipes, or schematics. Players frequently purchase expensive plans they already know, because it is difficult to accurately recall which plans are already known.

Plants:
“Pitcher Plants” are often broken and will not allow harvesting pre or post nuke. This could be linked to the fact they do not appear to be “Instanced” per player.

Power Armor:
-General:
-When Exiting and Re-Entering Power Armor the Left Arm and Right Leg are De-Equipping 20% of the time (Tested with Raider Power Armor, T-45, T-60) ; Torso and Left Leg unequip about 10% of the time. (Still an issue as of Jan patch)
"Power Armor Glitch"
-At least (2) Bugged frames remain in circulation. One of them will never recall to inventory through the manual process, the Second one often results in getting stuck in power armor when exiting, then re-entering, until you log to main menu.

- T-51b Power Armor Helmet Headlamp when activated don't seem to actually have the "glow" texture applied, the flashlight works but the visual of indicating that the lamp is actually "open" is not there on the player model. (Reported by RebelofWar)
-Higher Fusion Core Drain Post Jan 2019 Patch.
With perks equipped, not using VATS many people are reporting very high core drain rates. This appears for some to be more than just the corrected FC "Reset". (Reported by Cak3orDe4th)

-Overly Bright Headlamps: (Post Jan 2019).
Reducing the Darkness of the Nights and TRIPPLING the brightness of the PowerArmor headlamps was a bad combo. Doing one, than adjusting the other would have been better. For many this has resulted in poor viewing experiences, painfully bright screens (Especially at night IRL), and washed out graphics. (Reported by irebane, verified)
-Mods:
PipBoy Flashlight is inverted (Confirmed in the T-60) and only lighting the Pipboy Outline, rather than lighting all but the Pipboy.
Excavator Power Armor:
All MiscMods improperly Named, Lacking the PA type Description, making it impossible to tell which PA it’s for
Ultracite Power Armor:
All MiscMods improperly Named, Lacking the PA type Description, making it impossible to tell which PA it’s for.
Missing from leveled lists
miscmod_PA_Ultracite_Torso_Misc_Kinetic "Kinetic Dynamo" [MISC:0033C752]
miscmod_PA_Ultracite_Leg_Misc_APRegen "Kinetic Servos" [MISC:0033C744]

-Scrapping:
Considering the Difficulty of finding Power Armor Plans, giving us the ability to scrap Power Armor pieces to learn mods, even if it’s exceptionally uncommon, would be helpful.
Legs Take the Majority of the Wear:
Legs, regardless of level or durability, seem to be hit more frequently than other body parts, especially when fighting small creatures or ScorchBeasts. (Submitted by DreadBert_IAm)

-S.P.E.C.I.A.L:
Calculation is sometimes off for Strength, wearing no armor / underarmor I will have a 15 Strength out of Power Armor, and a 15 Strength out of Power Armor. But for some reason the damage for melee weapons changes by 15 - 25 points in and out of power armor. Having trouble isolating the cause.
-UI:
In Power Armor the compass is about 30 degrees off, a modder has already resolved this, could you consider rolling this in.

PVP:
-PVP Damage Scaling / Reduction Scaling is “Off”… A poorly equipped 40’s player can easily kill a fully equipped 100+ character (Submitted by Its_Syxx)
-Enemy players are regularly invisible. (Submitted by Lava_Croft)
-From Stealth, opening attack reports a critical hit, but no damage is done. PvE and PvP. (Submitted by Lava_Croft)

Quest:
White Springs Golf Corse:
Leveled NPC’s will not spawn the “Golf Ghouls” if you are level 40+, tried for 2+, took a level 15 joining me for the NPCs to spawn, and even then it took (3) server hops to get a total of 10.

Daily / Event: -Quest Loss:
Leaving a group will frequently abort and remove daily / event quests from your Pipboy. Seems to occur most often when a group of two becomes a solo player.
Significant issue if you are part way through a power up event (Hour long event) and your partner drops from the group, exceptionally frustrating.

Incorrect Start Location:
- Often you’ll start a repeatable regional quest in a specified location, but area markers for that quest are frequently found in another region a substantial distance away from the quest events.

Supply Drops:
Changed from "Public" to "User Only" Resulting in in inadvertent PVP flagging.
No Warning given.
Change not listed in change log, and if intentional, the majority of the User base does not enjoy the change as it continues to push away from the advertised "Co-Cooperatively rebuild WV" to forced PvP.
Example Post SonofFink;
TWZ05 "Event: Swarm of Suitors" [QUST:0025C090]
Event will Fail with one of the following issues:
-Mirelurks will never spawn, after starting the quest and going to the Island.
-Mirelurks will spawn, you kill them all and prevent them from reaching the Island, and the quest is removed from the log, however no reward or completion text appears.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L.
-Special Calculation:
Characters may not have the correct amount of AP based on their total S.P.E.C.I.A.L. attributes (6 Agility generated 120 AP rather than 155 AP) (Submitted by Its_Syxx)
-Perks:
-Chem weight reduction perk does not affect all chems (Rad-Away etc) (Submitted by Its_Syxx)
-Perk Card Packs:
When opening a Perk Pack on level up, characters are frequently given duplicates of “Unique” single perks (such as lock picking). This can result in a pack with 3 duplicate uniques, resulting in no usable perk cards gained from that pack. Confirmed as of Jan 2019.

Teams/Groups:
Invisible Teammate:
Can occur joining from another server, entering “Cells” (like the Missile Silo) or after Fast Traveling. Can be fixed by sitting in a chair then standing.

UI:
Trading:
Often when giving an item over in barter (or gift) for zero caps, the buyer will see a cost of XX displayed when they go to accept the offer, as a pop-up, but it remains “zero” in the trade window. The work around is to set the item price to 1 cap.

Underarmor:
recipe_mod_armor_UnderArmor_Casual_Mk4 "Plan: Protective Lining Casual Underarmor" [BOOK:003D6548] is currently unable to be learned (or so it seems) as it's linked to a quest leveled list that appears unlinked, FS01_MQ_Warn_QuestRewards [LVLI:0033C4FA]. This prevent the Tier 5 recipe_mod_armor_UnderArmor_Casual_Mk5 "Plan: Shielded Lining Casual Underarmor" [BOOK:003D6549] from being obtained from the 3 possible reward leveled lists.

V.A.T.S.
- VATS hits on enemies play a hit sound, but sometimes no damage is dealt [PvP and PvE]. (Submitted by Lava_Croft)
- Attacks from stealth may report a critical hit, but sometimes do no damage. [PvE and PvP]. (Submitted by Lava_Croft)
-In VATS, melee pathing can run you into hazards (such as Fissure sites), killing the player and resulting in lost loot.
-VATS will activate and "Strobe" preventing normal operation and remains locked until original target is killed. Pipboy is non-responsive, new bug since last few patches. (Reported by blazingatom, verified by Thirdstorm) AHeroicLlama suggests "I've observed this happening when the mob is in "danger" on another target. Your client applies the stealth attack, the server disagrees and restores the extra damage."
- VATS hits on players don't charge the Critical meter (Submitted by Lava_Croft)

Weapons:
ALL:
Weightless bugs out and gives full weight, requires you to swap a mod on the item to fix the weight, but does not always work. Additionally adding mods to a weightless item will sometimes result in a 70% or 50% weight item, as if the calculations were off.
Explosive Weapons:
Explosive heavy weapons deal no damage on crit. Tested on multiple weapons. (reported by Rusty029)
10mmSMG "10mm Submachine Gun" [WEAP:0010DB0F]:
Variants, fully upgraded, only scrap for Steel.

AutoGrenadeLauncher "Auto Grenade Launcher" [WEAP:00182634]
No longer benefits from "Bear Arms" or any other perk for carry weight. (Reported by chibibiscuit)

BowieKnife "Bowie Knife" [WEAP:000311DE]:
Legendary Template includes the generic Knife upgrades, but it’s missing ma_Knife [KYWD:00187A0B] and non-legendary versions will spawn with upgrades, but they cannot be applied. It has a ma_BowieKnife [KYWD:0048D801] but no linked OMODS.
Knife does not appear to show the "Blood FX" when attacking an Organic NPC. (Reported by RebelOfWar)

Broadsider "Broadsider" [WEAP:000FD11B]
Does not appear to be Effected by any of the 3 levels of "Heavy Gunner" Perk, Damage does not change, but is effected by the Stabilized Perks.
Durability on weapon is horrifically bad, with a 2 shot, non-explosive weapon breaking after an average of 20 shots, when full repaired to 200%.
Damage is low, even with perks, when both compared to other weapons (like a rifle) doubly when counting in the Ammo weight. Not even Viable as a TS Weapons.
Chainsaw_76 "Chainsaw" [WEAP:0004DF01]
Missing from the Legendary tables, Missing from loot tables, level locked to one version.
mod_Chainsaw_Bar_Dual "Dual Bar" [OMOD:0004DEFF] does not appear to effect damage, OMOD has the dmg type being changed as secondary.
Chainsaw "secondary" damage is 1.00 so increasing secondary damage means 0.5 added damage.

CultistDagger "Cultist Dagger" [WEAP:0008E015]: Legendary Template includes the generic knife upgrades, but it’s missing ma_Knife [KYWD:00187A0B] and non-legendary versions will spawn with upgrades, but they cannot be applied.

Drill "Drill" [WEAP:00081DD5]
Missing Legendary MA_Keywords.
It is on the Legendary Creature table, and will show up in the in the place of another Legendary, but not configured properly as it is missing the "Legendary" AP's. Also Level Locked to 20.

GammaGun "Gamma Gun" [WEAP:000DDB7C]
Not effected by any weapon / pistol perks. (Reported by Stumbles_Actual)
GatlingGun "Gatling Gun" [WEAP:00011BF6]:
Gun sight is down and to the left, counter clockwise, 30 degrees off, when aiming.

Grenades:
Often when more than 3 are thrown in a row they all turn into Duds.

Mines:
When planting more than 2, the 3rd will often result in instant detonation. (Submitted by Balian01, Verified by Thirdstorm.)
MissileLauncher "Missile Launcher" [WEAP:0003F6F8]
Durability on weapon is horrifically bad, with a 2 shot, non-explosive weapon breaking after an average of 20 shots, when full repaired to 200%.
Damage is EXCEPTIONALLY low, even with perks, when both compared to other weapons (like a rifle) pound for pound, when counting in the Ammo.
Weapon is not viable, even in 2 shot version with the above considered.
PipeSyringer "Syringer" [WEAP:0014D09E]
Missing Legendary MA_Keywords.
It is on the Legendary Creature table, and will show up in the in the place of another Legendary, but not configured properly as it is missing the "Legendary" AP's. Also Level Locked to 20.

BlackPowder_Rifle_Dragon "The Dragon" [WEAP:00046946]
BlackPowder_Rifle "Black Powder Rifle" [WEAP:00091BB4]:
Durability on weapon is bad, with a 2 shot, non-explosive weapon breaking after an average of 20 shots, when full repaired to 200%.
The weapon overall is fun to use, but the large penalty of Slow Reload speed, heavy ammo, single shot fire should be enough of a penalty, it does not also need a durability loss significantly higher than similar weapons.
Durability:
-When the weapon you are using breaks - your 2nd quick swap item is sometimes also removed. (Submitted by Its_Syxx)
-Heavy weapons break EXCEPTIONALLY fast, even with all perks possible. Gatling Plasma and Gatling Laser seem heavily effected.
-All High rate of Fire weapons break exceptionally fast, even with Perks, making Fully Automatic or "Heavy" class weapons with low damage but high cyclic rates break quickly. They either need an significant durability bump or an adjustment to how the "breakage" is calculated, because caring around a 25 pound heavy weapon + Ammo, and getting less then one encounter out of them (Queen for Example) is one of the reasons TSE's are so popular.

Barrels, Machined Ballistic:
The Short Barrels cause a greater weight increase than long barrels.
Long:
Short:

Scopes:
Aim down sites / scope sometimes gets stuck and has to be cycled to unzoom. (Submitted by Its_Syxx)

Aiming:
Third person aiming is off. Where you aim - it actually shoots / hits about 20% to the left. (Test by shooting a wall, then swap to 1st person and aim and shoot and see difference) (Submitted by Its_Syxx)

Legendary:
-Furious:
Does not function properly for the Ripper / Mr. Handy Buzz Blade for "Continuous" Hits, only registers / works if you spam the hit button (continuous hit vs. fast repeated hits). Some reports of it working better with the Jan 2019 Patch.

-Two Shot:
Weapons shoot perfectly normally when you aim down the sights, but if used in VATS you can see the bullets bounce off each other into different directions. The 95% accuracy being displayed is a lie as you can only hit about 25% of the time in VATS with a two shot rifle. (Reported by mitchisawesome)

-Vampire:
Does not function properly for the Ripper / Mr. Handy Buzz Blade for "Continuous" Hits, only registers / works if you spam the hit button (continuous hit vs. fast repeated hits) Some reports of it working better with the Jan 2019 Patch.
Workshops:
-Neon Letters do not properly Snap:
Neon Letters seem to snap at 10 degrees or so off. They preview perfectly but do not place as such, causing us to think the SnapPoints are misaligned. This has lead to long tutorial posts on how to "properly deploy" the Neon lights.

-Phantom "Stored Items":
Persisting in the Jan 2019 patch, but it is improved.
-"Tamed" Creatures consume Workshop space when killed or Workshop Moves and they don't travel with it.
It will sometimes clear after 3 to 5 real world days, but for others it is still an issue for a week afterwards. Example 1;

Performance Issues: (Including several that can cause server crashes)

Major FPS Drops Linked to Nuclear events:
After spending more than 10 minutes in most nuked sites, immediately after dropping the nuke, performance begins to drop significantly, with some players going from 90+ FPS to single digits. Closing to desktop and re-entering through the friends list will resolve for about 10 minutes.
This seems to stabilize after about 20 minutes.

Forced Server Crash Related to Inventory:
I accidently discovered, then replicated, a situation that can cause a server crash, disconnecting all that were on that server (confirmed by players in Discord at the time). Replicated it 3 times, so fairly confident it should be able to be replicated in a testing situation. Please contact me for details.
Update:
Community manager has reached out for details, issue is still there however.

Forced Server Crash Related to Crafting:
Please contact for details, but it has been an issue that I think most people are unaware of, and a few people on Discord have noticed it as well.
There is an easy fix, give us a “Creation Slider”, just like when buying, selling, or transferring inventories. Besides hopefully relieving the stress on the server THE PLAYER BASE WOULD LOVE NOT WASTING TIME CRAFTING!
Cooking, Scrapping, Bulking, after a fun adventure is a freaking drag when I realize I just wasted an hour of quality gaming time doing nothing but basic maintenance.
Update:
Community manager has reached out for details, issue is still there however.

Forced Server Crash When Trading:
“Mules” or people exploiting the carry weight glitch can cause a server crash, mostly post nuke, Please PM for details.

Emmett mountain disposal (PS4):
If you touch the petrified corpse stood up across from the decontamination room next to the barrels my game just stops then goes to a blank screen then an error on my PS4. (Submitted by Cooper2085)

Major FPS drops / freezes linked to UI elements:
(Quest completion animation, looted item / unlocked mod text, etc)

CTD’s:
Workshop Mode Electrical:
-If you craft a pylon, wire it, add a light and then try to move the pylon, you will CTD when you set the pylon down.
Workshop Mode Repair:
Occurring even with camps with less than 100% usage, if more than 70% of the camp is destroyed and you attempt to repair at the “C.A.M.P.” you will hard CTD Instantly almost always. Above 90% you will CTD every time until you manually repair a specific percentage. It appears to be atleast in part linked to Harvestable plans.
submitted by Aten_Ra to fo76 [link] [comments]


2019.01.12 12:10 despotak Fallout 76 v 1.0.4.13 changelog based on game data ("SeventySix.esm") - Community Patch Notes

Community Patch Notes github updated for v1.0.4.13.
You can also find it at our new web page, https://despotak.github.io/fallout_76_patch_notes/ for easier reading in mobile devices.
 

Community Patch notes

Changes found on the SeventySix.esm file

Activator

Ingestible

Armor Addon

EdNote: We have no idea what those records do, why they were removed for 1.0.3.x, why they came back for 1.0.4.x and why the Lumberjack does not have the male world model edits)

Armor

Actor Value Information

Avatar

Cell

Challenge

Condition Form

Constructible Object

Container

Curve Table

Emote

Object Effect

Entitlement

Explosion

Global

Game Setting

Idle Animation

Ingredient

Instance Naming Rules

Keyword

Location Reference Type

Location

EdNote: Under further investigation. Probably nothing more than rearranged data tables that the diff tool shows as edits.

Light

Leveled Item

Magic Effects

Misc. items

Material Swap

Non-Player Character (Actor)

Object Modifications

Perks

Projectile

 
Reddit char limit reached. You can find the rest in github.
 
despotak notes: This time I'll become a little technical. Bethesda upped the Form Version and added a new subrecord called MAGF. This looks like a code refactoring and nothing the useplayer should actually care about. Except that we saw (and our tools might not tell the full truth here) what it looked like a deprecation of a previous unidentified subrecord inside the EFIT struct to this new MAGF. All new MAGF fields we saw have been initialized with zeros. The "problem" arises from the fact that not all the previous EFIT fields that were removed were zeroed-out as well. Some of them had data. We do not know what that data did and if it is crucial for the game, we just report what we saw, in case there was actually a refactoring taking place without taking care of data retention. Again, the useplayer has no reason to care about all this, we just wanted to point that out in case BethesdaGameStudios_ reads this.
Here is an example of what we are talking about

Credits

despotak: (aka Cdr_Archangel on Nexusmods and Discord): Main maintainer of this list. Roby65: Main tool architect and curator. ElminsterAU: Main developer of xEdit
submitted by despotak to fo76 [link] [comments]


2018.11.20 04:11 GooseGrewABeard [Race Report] - Deadhorse 50K - An Outsider's Perspective:

Race information

Goals

Goal Description Completed?
A Finish Yes
B Beat my marathon PR Yes
C Sub 5 hours No

Pictures

Splits

Mile Time
1 10:33
2 11:32
3 8:31
4 9:13
5 10:13
6 10:49
7 10:53
8 13:17
9 10:24
10 10:03
11 10:47
12 12:45
13 10:56
14 12:00
15 16:38
16 10:51
17 10:35
18 11:07
19 11:33
20 14:44
21 11:46
22 11:28
23 12:26
24 11:51
25 13:25
26 10:22
27 11:12
28 12:13
29 9:20
30 8:31

Background

For those of you who know me, I live in Durango, Colorado. Now it's kind of an ultra running hot spot. Tons of trails, climbs, mountains, oh and we're just an hour south of Silverton, home of the Hardrock 100. It's a small race, maybe you've heard of it? Durango is also the home to multiple Hardrock winners, the Tahoe 200 champ, the site of Jeff Browning's ultra camp, one of the most accomplished ultra runners in the sport (and is a local ultra coach), and I even worked with one of the first people to attempt an FKT on the Colorado trail.
Ultra running has a hold on the running culture here in Durango, especially the trail running here. Here in Durango is where I started running, just 3 years ago and I knew one day, I was going to run an ultra. 2018 is the year it actually happened.
Part in thanks to this ultra culture in Durango, I have been a fan of the sport for quite a while. I subscribe to the Outhouse Nation, I read iRunFar almost weekly, and you can find me listening to any ultra stories whenever possible. There are lots of videos, Ginger Runner, Billy Yang, and others that I've watched numerous times. There was a sick(ish) curiosity about ultras. So many stories and things I had heard about ultras that I wanted to experience. I needed to see if it was true.

Training

Well I had actually met with said ultra coach who reviewed a training program I put together for this 50K. It was a 12 week plan that featured a long run maxing at 3.5 hours and maxing at 60 mile a week.
See work is a tricky thing. I was running, doing my self-prescribed workouts and I was gaining confidence with each week. Then about week 6 hit and I had such terrible IT band problems that my leg actually locked up while I was running. I had just stopped to look at a trail sign and when I started back up again, I could barely bend my knee. When I finished my run, my lateral knee was actually swollen.
I immediately freaked out. I went into full recovery and treatment mode. Laser therapy, trigger point therapy, and tons and tons of stretching. I essentially took a full week off to get that thing under control. I stayed consistent on this stretching and rolling, like I should have been from the beginning, and my knee got significantly better.
After this, I avoided the workouts. My work schedule got crazy busy, and all my runs became focused on good easy efforts and trying to at least maintain 40MPW.
I had a couple good long runs during the rest of this cycle including a 22 miler about 4 weeks out. I felt so strong during that whole effort, paced very well, and went into my taper which was 2 weeks out in great confidence. And then the day I started my taper, I woke up sick. Sore throat, full on head cold. I also had to take this week almost completely off to fight off this sickness. It took me laying on the couch all day Saturday consuming copious amounts of tea to finally get over it. I woke up Sunday morning actually feeling completely better. I did a couple runs that week, thought that was enough, and drove down to Moab on Friday morning.

Pre-race

We got to our campsite on Friday afternoon, at a campground within eye shot on the finish line. We weren't originally planning camping here, but the convenience and relative quiet spot for our car camping made it the best and easiest option. We did a nice little 30 minute shake out on the first part of the course, went into town for my packet, got a sweet hat, and went back to the site where I chilled in back of the car while Kat biked. We had a very cold night with the wind which left us cold even after we got in our sleeping bags. I actually woke up before my alarm went off, so I turned the car on so we could get some heat going. Help me warm up a bit. I go outside, turn on the jet boil to get my aeropress going for my coffee, and tried to start making my pre race oatmeal. As the water was boiling, I get to look over and see the start of the 50 miler in the darkness. Funny enough, a group of about 50 runners ran past the first turn and past my campsite until people realized they pulled a JOOM and missed their turn.
I spill my frozen fruit on the ground with my frozen hands.
Oh well. I layer up, drink my pre-race coffee, Tailwind, and oatmeal. We walk on over to the race start and I get in line for my pre-race poop. As I look to the line to my left, I notice this guy wearing a thick Altra jacket. After he leave the john, I recognize that Golden Harper was here to race. So that was pretty neat. I take my pre-race pics with my wife and sister in law, ditch the pants, and shuffle over to the mass of people. At this point, it's a controlled chaos. I can barely hear the announcer, there's some people singing "happy birthday" and then next thing I know, a horn goes off and we're going. Except we weren't? There were so many people jammed into the starting area that I had to walk about the first 30 seconds until we cleared into the road.

Miles [1] to [4]

This starting point is basically managing the crowds, finding a group that pace I liked, and not getting too excited, very well knowing there was a long day ahead of me. Lots of interesting people at the start.
The race starts with going up on the road where we steadily climb for 2 miles. I unexpectedly saw a buddy of mine sitting in his jeep at the side o the road and I was surprised how big of a boost it was to get cheered on by him. At the peak of this 2 mile climb, the sun was barely peeking over the mountains and starting to illuminate the valley we were descending to.
We go down the road and along a sandy flat path where I catch this group of 3 runners. 2 ladies about my age (probably??) and an older gentleman talking about relationships, running, and something about a 3 week engagement. They seemed good company and were comfortably goin my pace, so I decided to hang with them. We then hit the first aid station and they stop. I decided I was feeling fine, so I press on without them and start to walk up this very steep hill until we hit the singletrack.

Miles [5] to [8]

The next 3ish miles of winding and climbing singletrack was mostly slickrock which is a much firmer surface than I'm used to for trail running. It's pretty fun though, and after some time, I make my way to the first aid station. We have to check in there so there's no bypassing like the first one. I've started sipping on my tailwind so I'm happy with my nutrition and hydration strategy. I start looking at all the offerings at the aid station, and wow, it was quite the buffet of snacks. I look for something I expect wouldn't upset my stomach, so I try a slice of bacon, and a handful of M&M's. As I wait in line for the john (there are super strict rules about staying on the trail in Moab so I wasn't going to risk it for a leak), I comment on the aid station felt like a party, how it's going to be hard to leave, and how the john was in just the right spot.

Miles [9] to [15]

This immediate stretch after the aid station had a bit of climbing that went to a flat-ish valley. I tried to get myself back into my pace and I noticed it felt slightly tougher than I expected it. I just reminded myself that the first half of the was a net uphill so this tough patch I was experiencing was a result of that. That or I just shouldn't have tried milk chocolate at the aid station. At some point, the group of 3 I was with earlier had caught up to me, so I tried to run with them as long as I could. One of the girls was struggling also, so while the other girl and guy went ahead, I kinda quietly tagged along with her. As she seemed to improve, she slowly gapped me on the climbs and I rolled into the halfway point maybe 30 seconds behind her.
An interesting part about this race was the access for 50Kers to have drop bags. Now I knew that drop bags for 50 miles and up was common, but I never heard of it for 50K. But at this point, I saw the benefit; people were changing out of gloves and jackets and putting on dry clothes. I went to the line of aid and I saw the snacks and water. I went to go start filling my soft flask when an aid station volunteer offered to fill it for me. "So this does happen!" was my thought. She was very helpful, but maybe filled it up too full, as when I went to pour my tailwind in, it kinda spilled a bit. Not a problem though, I just learned to put the powder in first now.
The group I had been following was taking their time in the aid station, so I figured it was fine to do the same. I looked around at the offerings of drinks, and that's when I saw it: the liquid of ultra legend: Coke. Coke in a gatorade cup too. I knew it was simple and easy calories, so I decided to go for it. And man, lemme tell you, I left that aid station feeling like a million bucks despite only being halfway. The legends were true, coke at aid stations is liquid magic.
It was at this point I realized I wasn't really warm, or cold. I figured it was only going to heat up from here on, so I made the decision to stuff my gloves into my rabbit mountain climber shorts and roll up my jacket and stuff that into my pack.

Miles [16] to [20]

I tried to head out of aid with the group I came in with since they were holding a strong pace, but I quickly couldn't keep up with what they were doing. I did catch to this guy and run behind him. Started chatting him up, he found out it was my first ultra, and the very characteristic of ultra running that I had heard so much about. He immediately began checking in on me, asking about nutrition, pace, and encouraging me. I even got in on his GoPro footage so we'll see if that ever shows up. After running with him for the next 15 or so minutes, he stepped off the trail and I kept on trucking.
I really don't remember much about these miles except that it was hard, my legs hurt, slickrock is unforgiving, and that at mile 17 I saw a sign that said "DANGER: CLIFF. BOY SCOUT SHOOTING RANGE." So I look to my right, and at the bottom of a cliff was a shooting range. I imagined what it would be like to run with bullets whizzing overhead.

Miles [21] to [26.2]

The cool part about this race is how completely hidden it is from the highway by a road that snakes around a ridge. The bad part about this race is you can see where you're going from about 10 miles away, looming in the distance as you very slowly snake towards it.
At this point, only two thoughts occupied my mind: finishing, and breaking my marathon PR. The previous summer I failed at my marathon debut, which is still the worst race I've ever done. This wasn't the case this weekend, I kept trying to run with other 50Kers, some of us passing each other and dropping each other, only to get caught at a different spot. We started to hit the part of the race where we met up with the 30kers so the trail started getting full. I got to help a couple other dazed runners stay on course by yelling out some directions. Moab is weird in how it only shows where the trail is by paint stripes every couple yards. For the most part, the course was very well marked by blue flags, but in a dazed state it was easy to miss them.
I felt the pace I was going at the time was what I felt what get me to the finish, so I focused on keeping my pace light and easy. Then it happened: I hit the marathon in 5 hours flat which was a whole 46 minutes faster than I ran my marathon in my debut.
Honestly I was happy, but I was a bit underwhelmed due to the fact that there was still 4 miles after that. I joined some other people as we hit aid at the base of a hill.

Finish and Post-race

I repeat the same routine as the other aid stations: I fill my tailwind, I drink coke, and I wash it down with water. It's at this point that I get it: ultra running is so hard, but I think I love it? I was having a blast despite being wiped and my legs being stiff and in pain.
I catch up with two ladies leading aid. One was a mother of 2 (who only got like 4 hours of sleep the night before cause of her kids) who wanted to run 32 miles at age 32 and was slightly bummed the race was short. The other was an elementary music teacher. Both incredibly friendly and fun ladies to run with as we trudged up the sandy and very slight incline road back to the finish.
As the hill gets steeper, we drop music teacher. Once we hit the actual 500ft climb before the finish, I let the mom go ahead cause I needed a break. I start power hiking with another guy where we give each other some encouragement and push to the top. He pulls ahead as I continue to powerhike, his long steps carrying further than I was willing to go.
I make it to the top and I can see it all, the finish line, my campsite, the highway, the mountains, and it dawns on me that this is real and I'm actually going to finish my first ultra. My legs are shot, but I do my very best to push it down the hill.
I get two bits of encouragement: my friend from the beginning, still in his Jeep, whooping and hollering and giving me a high five pushing me to the finish, and Golden Harper giving me a good job.
I hit the flat and push with a strength that surprised even me to do an 8:30 final mile to hit the finish. I hear the cheering of my wife and sister-in-law pushing me to the chute.
I had done it: I am an ultra marathoner.
At that point all I want is the chair and in that moment, I can finally relate to ultrarunning memes.
In the finishing chute the aid station lady almost cut off my trail gaiters trying to get at my tracking chip, so I had to bend down to help her out which was a bit painful.
I hobble on over to a rock and sit down there while I asked my wife to get me sandals, a jacket, and some Tailwind rebuild. We chat about the race, I lean back in the chair they get me and finally get to relax. I even eventually hobble over to the tent where the enchiladas are to enjoy some warm post race food.
Then this was one of the best parts, a short walk over to our campsite where we could watch other runners finishing and cheer them on in.
All in all, I'm 100% happy with how my race went and there's absolutely nothing I would change about it. Ultrarunning was everything I thought it would be and more.
I can't wait for the next one.
This post was generated using the new race reportr, a tool built by BBQLays for making organized, easy-to-read, and beautiful race reports.
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