Red lightning bolt dodge caravan
How the hell are we supposed to manage Mana as a Sorc?
2023.06.07 14:50 OrcWarChief How the hell are we supposed to manage Mana as a Sorc?
Hit WT3 the other day, spending a majority of my run using a Chain Lightning build. Mana was always a problem and it got worse as enemies scaled up and the drops just weren’t coming.
I respeced to an Ice Shards build at 51 and it’s much faster at clearing packs of monsters but the mana management is terrible, possibly even worse. I’m using Avalanche and I have some aspects that let Avalanche gain me an extra cast, I am running all the “meta” dungeon aspects for it so I have the basics.
It’s very strong for groups but if I can’t beat an elite I’m running around doing nothing while my mana recharges.
Most builds are not running a spender even as a starter build and I just don’t get how they can. You can cast Ice Shards exactly three times before you’re out. Without burning passives the regen sucks. Problem is without the Fireball passive my clearing sucks.
What the solution? CDR gear isn’t dropping for me and neither are mana cost reducing gear. Is it worth it to drop something from my rotation to add like Frost Bolt?
submitted by OrcWarChief to diablo4 [link] [comments]
I respeced to an Ice Shards build at 51 and it’s much faster at clearing packs of monsters but the mana management is terrible, possibly even worse. I’m using Avalanche and I have some aspects that let Avalanche gain me an extra cast, I am running all the “meta” dungeon aspects for it so I have the basics.
It’s very strong for groups but if I can’t beat an elite I’m running around doing nothing while my mana recharges.
Most builds are not running a spender even as a starter build and I just don’t get how they can. You can cast Ice Shards exactly three times before you’re out. Without burning passives the regen sucks. Problem is without the Fireball passive my clearing sucks.
What the solution? CDR gear isn’t dropping for me and neither are mana cost reducing gear. Is it worth it to drop something from my rotation to add like Frost Bolt?
2023.06.07 14:50 kiplet1 [City of Roses] no. 27.2: “The first order of Business” – at This table – antique Punk bullshit – the Basics of Security
![[City of Roses] no. 27.2: “The first order of Business” – at This table – antique Punk bullshit – the Basics of Security](https://external-preview.redd.it/qYRyXUWWQABRdxlpUwAdHKEY2WTFbpJX4iX5eV6evSw.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=c3d3d20ce92d53d951021fdc145ae09b16cbff40 "[City of Roses] no. 27.2: “The first order of Business” – at This table – antique Punk bullshit – the Basics of Security") | Patreon submitted by kiplet1 to redditserials [link] [comments] previous Table of Contents tends to crumble “The first order of business,” says the man at the head of the table, “in any face time we take with potential occupancy partners, we need to assess how the anticipated anchor’s gonna impact their appraisal and availability approach.” It’s a long table, a slab of wood the color of pale flesh, polished to a striking gleam that’s broken here and there by a phone or a computer tablet laid before this person or that, until down at the very other end of it, a couple of comb-bound reports bristling with post-it flags, a spill of colorful diagrams, a worn redweld holding a couple of file folders upright, a small black notebook splayed open, the wispy scratch of a fountain pen, APPRAISAL written in ruddy black ink, AVAILABILITY , then three sharp underscores. “It’s not,” the man at the head of the table is saying, “that we anticipate an antagonism toward the anchor, on the part of any potential partners?” His flat grey suit’s a touch too big, the collar of his soft blue shirt’s undone, his sparse beard neatly trimmed. “But by anticipating,” he says, “their respective stances vis-à-vis their individualized brand engagement profiles which, let me assure you, we will be reviewing in a thorough manner before we, we take up any,” he’s trailing off, “tête-à-têtes,” blinking quizzically. The room about them’s walled in cool sheets of green-tinged glass on all four sides and more beyond refracting, reflecting, shimmering desk lamps and fluorescents, computer screens, heads popping up over cubicle walls, turning, following the figure swimming up through them, one glass door after another opening before her, “I,” says the man at the head of the table, “excuse me,” as the final glass door swings open, she’s sweeping into the room, Ysabel in her long white coat. “I tried to tell her,” someone’s saying, a receptionist maybe, bobbing in her wake, and “Do you mind,” says an older man, halfway down the table, a hand on his phone on the wood, but she’s glaring at the very other end of the table. “How dare you,” she says. “Sorry, folks,” says Lymond, screwing the cap onto his fountain pen. “Think we might have the room a minute?” “I, um,” says the man at the head of the table, “we just got started?” “And we’ll get right back into it,” says Lymond. “I’m really looking forward to hearing more about this brand engagement. Now,” pushing back his chair, “if you don’t mind,” but already they’re filing out, shirts and blouses of dull green, milky blue, an intrepid puce, awkwardly around past Ysabel all in white. “Um,” says the man who’d been at the head of the table, in his flat grey suit. “Thanks,” says Lymond, cheerfully. The green glass door swings shut. “How dare I?” he says, to Ysabel. “I’m the King. A certain latitude’s expected.” “You could’ve gotten her killed,” says Ysabel. “They’re watching, you know,” he says, tucking a report into the redweld. “Go on. Lean over the table. Slap me. That should be enough to undo all his sacrifice secured.” She blinks at that, draws back. “Sacrifice,” she says. “He thought of it as such,” says Lymond, stacking up those diagrams, tapping their edges against the wood. “Now. Slap me, or turn about, and go home.” “Not until you explain yourself, brother.” “Oh, Ys,” he says. “If you would play at this table,” he’s tucking the diagrams into a file folder, “you must pay attention.” A wince, as he sets the folder aside. “We find ourselves upon a crux: the duel between the Devil and the Huntsman redounded to our favor, yet the wound’s but freshly healed. Any sudden shift might tear it right back open.” His hands, folded together before him, a thumb pressed tight against a knuckle. “Is that what you would have?” “I’ve seen the wound,” she says. “He nearly cut her through. The owr does what it can,” and she looks up from the tabletop to meet his eyes, one brown, one blue, both cold. “She sleeps. She’s been asleep since the Mason brought her home.” Leaning down now, both hands planted on the glossy wood. “I’m doing you a courtesy, by answering a question I assume you would eventually have asked?” A bitter something of a smile. “How is Jo,” he says, “how Jo is, I know how is our Gallowglas: loyal, and effective. I trusted her to do what needed doing, and she went and got it done. Now,” over her sharp intake of breath, “I ask, once more. You know what is at stake. Do you mean to stand against any particular point of our plan?” Leaning in close. “Slap me,” he says. “Or go home.” She steps back, she turns away. Before she can open the green glass door he says, “Take care, sister, where and when you might vent any further displeasures?” Looking down, at his folded hands. “Our tantrums are expensive.” “You’ve no idea,” she says, “what could’ve spilled from her heart, had his stroke been a whit more true.” She opens the door. He shifts his thumb. The thin line of a neat straight cut along the edge of his forefinger, sewn with tiny beads of dark red blood. He lifts it to his lips. “Um,” says someone, the man in the flat grey suit a touch too big, peering into the room. “Everything good?” “Paper cut,” says Lymond, waving him in. “C’mon, let’s go. Take it from the top.” • Well and I don’t know, dim voices floating up through floorboards loosely laid across the joists, not what we discussed, poets and junkies, epic, like some, there’s a mirror, there’s no one in the mirror, there’s a crack in the glass of it jagged, chased and dappled, splotched with gold, a spangled haze, such a history, working together, that didn’t work, a drip-drip trickle from the faucet, puddles on gold-streaked marble about the sink, but there, it’s gonna be epic, dust gone dark to grey, to black, a lump of it mucked up under the mirror, with the shreds of a burst plastic baggie, this, or this, or this. There’s music, too, loud but languid, strummed guitars, a melodeon, but she’s sitting up in the dark, her head in her hands, and there is no mirror, no light, no sinks or water, no marble countertop, but there is the dust, spangled, glimmering in the milky cloud of her hair, and still the music. “Well if we have to have a name,” says Gloria Monday. “It’s something to put on a poster,” says the woman sitting on the nubbled pea-green couch, one hand braced on the curled handle of an orthopædic cane, a big brown scaley purse in her lap. “Well if that’s all we want,” says Gloria, wrestling to one side a great stretched canvas, a twirling figure calligraphed in slashes of black, to reveal another propped behind it, the next wild scribble of dance. She steps back, behind a tiny silver camera atop a stolid tripod, stoops to peer through it. “We could call it the Lawn,” she says, snapping a picture. Straightening, she looks back and forth, from the painting, to the image of it, now on the enormous white-framed monitor behind her there on the worktable. “As in get off the?” says the woman standing off to one side, her long black coat done up with brightly silver buttons, and a little grey snap-brim hat on her head. “That’s not what we discussed,” says Anna in her houndstooth trousers, narrow black-rimmed glasses glaring in the light. “The house,” says Gloria, taking hold of the canvas. “Run-down and falling apart and poets and junkies and twenty bedrooms to one bathroom and full of,” lifting, “epic,” hoisting it aside, “legend, and, and art,” to reveal the next. “The Lawn,” says Gloria Monday. Her feet are bare, laddered tights printed with overlapping gears, her vast white T-shirt says Robot Fightin’ Boots. “I liked Weatherall’s,” says Anna. “If we’re going to change it.” “Yeah, well,” says Gloria, stooping behind the camera again. “Sounds like some Harry Potter shit,” says the woman in the long black coat. “Jilting of,” says Gloria, snapping another picture. “Granny Weatherall? Been a while, since you been in high school?” The woman on the couch snorts up a laugh, sits up, hefting her cane. “How about,” she says, pointing the wide rubber foot of it out, toward the cavernous space beyond, “this building,” the boxes, equipment, the bulks of whatever it is under tarps shoved off to either side, stacked in the stalls that one by one march down the long high walls, “the history,” soaked in soft grey light depending from up under the rafters, the windows there scrubbed clean of filth, scraped clear of paint, “a name should honor that.” “It was a warehouse for vegetables,” says Gloria. “A farmers’ market,” says the woman on the couch, “built by Italian immigrants, working together. Cooperatively.” “Snot Market,” says Gloria, “Grime Market, that didn’t work,” grabbing the next canvas, “Pus Market has a certain punch,” hauling it aside, “but Anna didn’t like any of those, and anyway it’s antique punk bullshit. Effluvial Plane I kinda liked, but that’s too, much, y’know?” “How old are you?” says the woman all in black. “Fuck you,” says Gloria. “That’s how old I am.” “Gloria,” says Anna. “No, fuck this,” snarls Gloria. “We got the space. We’re doing the thing. It’s gonna be epic. And you can either get on board, get your, people, involved,” the woman on the couch, clutching her purse, “you can write about it like you know what’s gonna happen,” the woman all in black, hands in her pockets, smirking, “or you can scramble to catch up after, like everyone else.” “Ms. Thorpe, we must apologize,” says Anna, after a moment, but “No, no,” says the woman all in black, “tempers run hot and you let them out and that’s fine, and then you stop and you take a deep breath and you think. Maybe you do this, or maybe tomorrow you’re kicked out for squatting. You don’t – ” “Hey, Anna!” says Gloria. “What’s the owner got to say, about us being here?” “There are no objections,” says Anna, but Thorpe looks away, rolling her eyes. “I did my homework,” she says, lifting her little grey hat, “or I wouldn’t be here at all,” scratching her head, her dark hair short, swept back. “You’re Suzette Wilson, you’re Tom Wilson’s daughter, and I’m sorry for your loss, but the title to this pile is hardly as clear-cut as,” but Gloria’s saying, “This, this is my place,” as Thorpe says “that’s before we even get into the questions of insurance, and zoning, and inspections,” but Gloria’s shouting “S1! Last Thursday! The Teahouse! You think they waited around for fucking paperwork?” Anna and the woman on the couch, watching them both, Gloria seething, Thorpe settling her hat on her head, “Well,” she’s saying, tucking her hands in the pockets of her coat, “S1 is street-legal now, yeah, and the Teahouse? That was in Sellwood? Long gone. And you have any idea how much the merchants on Alberta pay the city for extra cops?” A shrug, and that smirk warms to something more sympathetic. “You want to beg forgiveness instead of ask permission and I can respect that, but there’s this delicate balance. You gotta be big enough to get noticed, but you can’t be so big you get noticed, you know?” Looking out, over the cavernous space below. “And all this you want to do in a week.” Turning back, hands spread in a hapless shrug, a burble of sound, “I like you,” she says, “I do, I like the idea,” looking up. It sounds like someone’s singing up there. Up there, up at the edge of the planks laid across the joists, up by the brief ladder bolted to the wall a couple of long bare legs kicked over and orange underpants, ee, ee-oh nor, the keening voice a grunt, doo da-da dee, doo da-da dee, down the ladder to the walkway up there, a wild mad cloud of white-gold hair, “and quickly was received, enthusiastically,” and Thorpe looks down, over at the paintings leaned, at the image on the enormous monitor. “Some say that it had more to do with her,” the singer’s making her way, hand on the railing, “improper sense of dress, than her talent, or her diligence,” opening a door up there, painted with letters that possibly once said Ranchers, or Gardeners, and closing it muffles her song. “I’m sorry,” says Anna, drawing back their attention. “It seems Marfisa forgot we were meeting this morning.” “I’ve seen,” says Thorpe, “I’ve heard her, before.” “Salt and Straw,” says the woman on the couch, but then, lifting a finger, “no, that’s the ice cream.” “She kinda came with the place,” says Gloria. Up there a crash of water, flushing, that door opens, Marfisa’s stepping out, “Cartier Bresson!” she shouts. “Max Ernst, Paul Eluard, George Bataille,” as she’s making her way back along the wall above them. “Their misogyny really irritated her, but she wasn’t, she,” stopping, standing there, wavering a little, looking down at them. Absently scratching just beneath a breast, and sunlight flashing from the gold dust spangling her skin. “I heard you play once,” says Thorpe, abruptly. Her wide smile spreading, Marfisa tips back her white-gold head, “Lee, ee-oh nor!” she sings, reaching for the ladder. “Lee, ee-oh nor!” Climbing back up toward the makeshift floor above. “Stone and Salt!” says the woman on the couch. “That was it.” • Ding the microwave, she opens the door of it, reaches in with a hot pad for a steaming pink mug that says Sophia & Dorothy & Blanche & Rose. In she dunks a purple octopus infuser, dandling its delicate chain a moment. Color blooms. Out of the kitchen, across the living room, dark wood paneling, grey-green shag, shuff and snap of her slippers into a nook of a hall, too brightly lit. She nudges open a door left ajar, into a small dark room lit only by sunlight staining the edges of heavy curtains drawn, and almost entirely filled by a great wide bed. “I’ve brought tea,” she says, setting the mug on the nightstand in the corner. “Hey.” Sitting on the edge of the bed. “I called Reg,” she says, reaching along the margin of the thick dark comforter, and a gentle stroke for the blond head there, turned away. “Told him we’d need another week. He wasn’t happy, but hey. Fuck him.” Tucking a lock of her own hair, as blond, as straight, behind her ear. “Chrissie,” she says. “Chér.” “I don’t want any tea.” “Yeah, well,” says Ettie, and she gets to her feet with a sigh. “This would be why I stick with men. They can’t break your heart.” • The door swings open, for a moment all’s revealed, scarred floor and drifts of grit against the bar, peeling dimpled paint along the front of it and its cracked vinyl bumper, dust furring the bottles along the top shelf, the washed-out flyspecked neon lights, the bartender, spiky hair flared palely to a golden brown, hand up against the raw daylight, skinny arm festooned with shadowy tattoos, “Jacks?” says Jessie, blinking, but the light’s swallowed away as the door swings shut, and dimness closes about the warm neon, the sparkle of glass, the rattle of drums and a couple of jangled chords, bubbling bass, “Jackie?” says the bartender, his hair gone black. “Ah, naw. She ain’t here.” “Oh,” says Jessie, in her puffy pink parka. “Sorry. I thought,” and she shakes her head, Americans were thus denied, someone’s singing, with the guitar and the drums, all right to travel to the other side. “She usually works mornings,” says Jessie. “Any idea when she’s in next?” “No, see,” says the bartender, “I mean, she’s not here? Anymore?” Folding those skinny arms, leaning his elbows on the bar. “And we can’t be giving out people’s schedules, come on. Basic security.” “I’m a friend,” says Jessie, and then, “I used to dance here? About a year, year and a half ago. Went by Rain?” “If you’re a friend,” says the bartender, “I mean, she left, what, right after the holidays? Two, three months ago? So, I mean,” and he spreads his hands. “Want something to drink?” “Where’d she go?” says Jessie. “I don’t know, Eugene or something? But even if I did I couldn’t tell you, because, security, you know. Coffee? Anything?” Betcha my life, there’d be no violence there, and she opens her mouth to speak but everything lights up again, washed out, as the door swings open, two women, raincoat, trench coat, gym bag and backpack, nodding to the bartender who waves hello as they head through empty tables past the empty little stage, toward the nondescript door back there. “How about Chilli,” says Jessie. “He back there?” “He, naw, Chilli, we’re,” the bartender jumps as she walks away, “we’re under new management,” he calls after her, “so,” but there’s confusion by that nondescript door as it opens, those women stepping through around and past a man who’s stepping out, brown leather vest and rich red hair flopping from a widow’s peak, “I need you to,” the bartender’s saying. Jessie waves him off. “It’s Gaveston,” she says. “I know Gav.” But Gaveston’s holding the door for someone else, a tall woman in a white track suit, short hair greenly yellow, and Jessie stops short, in the midst of the empty tables. “Chariot?” she says. The tall woman’s saying something to Gaveston, as she heads off past the little stage. “Iona?” says Jessie, and the tall woman looks over to see her there in pink. “Oh,” she says, stopped short. “Rain.” “Is she here?” says Jessie. “The,” a cough, “the Princess? Uh, Queen? Ysabel?” Iona’s shaking her head, “I’m merely here on her behalf,” she says, stepping away, but “Iona,” says Jessie, “Chariot, tell her, please,” and Iona stops, looks back. “Yes?” she says. Jessie looks away. “Nothing,” she says. “Don’t tell her anything. Not even, that you saw me.” “As you wish,” says Iona. Jessie’s still looking away, there among the empty tables. I’d want the giddy-up, the guitar jangles, I’d want to live it up, I’d want the pick-me-up, and the nondescript door back there’s now shut. The bartender isn’t behind the bar that flares, scoured once more by daylight as Iona opens the door outside. She steps through, the door swings shut, the darkness returns. • Nox Sea Raid say the letters punched in light across the screen. Choose Your Squad swooshes in below. A husky contralto says Set em up Sarge over the speakers, and the guy on the beanbag thumbs and clicks the controller in his lap, wheeling the view on the screen about a motley crew of centaurs, each stepping up to present arms as the focus settles fleetingly on them, uttering a catch-phrase, Rock an roll, rack em and pack em, they will fear my song, buzzbombs why’s it have to be buzzbombs, reportin for beauty! rock an rack em rock an pack em why’s it have to fear my rock an roll an reportin! “This is gonna suck,” says the guy on the beanbag, “I need more’n one tank for this.” Wrinkles about his eyes and gingery stubble along his jaw. “Whaddaya think,” he says, looking away from the screen, “would a Mixolydian,” but there’s nobody beside him, there’s a man headed away, over toward the grand dark staircase, dodging around a dark wood column, his sweater bulky, red, he’s looking up to the woman stopped there on the stairs, black trousers, a bowtie unclipped about her winged collar. “Long as he needs,” she’s saying, and “Oh,” says the guy on the beanbag, turning back to the screen, “Ellen’s home.” Clicking through the figures on the screen, rock an roll, reportin for beauty, they will fear, “The hell was he doing, wearing my shirt?” and the guy on the beanbag looks up again at that, the man in the red sweater a step or two up the stairs, and Ellen above him, maybe a shrug, “It looks better on him,” she’s saying, turning away. Why’s it have to be, says the centaur on the screen. Rack em! https://preview.redd.it/yxg391a0yk4b1.png?width=35&format=png&auto=webp&s=506443fd3a4988b34878bf917171c44569067a50 previous Table of Contents Patreon |
2023.06.07 14:35 SnowBunnyBlue Dodge Grand Caravan 2015, A/C issue
So my minivan is having some AC issues and it’s booked in to a mechanic for next week. The a/c blows kinda cool on the driver’s side and just hot (outdoor temps?) on the passenger side. In the rear it appears to blow slightly coolish as well. The cool air it kinda could do was non-existent on the extreme hot days I had last week and it was the final straw.
After talking to some mechanics they said after checking to make sure there wasn’t a leak they could do a recharge BUT it is very typical for this vehicle to have a problem with the rear a/c and if so we could repair for big $$$ or cap it off for less $$ but still a fair bit.
So…. If we cap it off what does that mean for the rear? The rear has the ability to either control its own a/c temp and blower speed or I can control it from the front. If it is capped does it mean the rear can no longer control itself but I can still control and put cool air to the rear vents from the front controls? Or does it mean if using the a/c the rear just will not blow anything at all no matter which mode?
I’ve got kids and while I’ll be nice and cool up front and I suppose eventually the cool air will fill the whole cabin I just feel bad for them, summer be hot!
Just want to know what I’m agreeing to or if I need to figure out how to finance an expensive repair on a crap vehicle. Thanks!
submitted by SnowBunnyBlue to MechanicAdvice [link] [comments]
After talking to some mechanics they said after checking to make sure there wasn’t a leak they could do a recharge BUT it is very typical for this vehicle to have a problem with the rear a/c and if so we could repair for big $$$ or cap it off for less $$ but still a fair bit.
So…. If we cap it off what does that mean for the rear? The rear has the ability to either control its own a/c temp and blower speed or I can control it from the front. If it is capped does it mean the rear can no longer control itself but I can still control and put cool air to the rear vents from the front controls? Or does it mean if using the a/c the rear just will not blow anything at all no matter which mode?
I’ve got kids and while I’ll be nice and cool up front and I suppose eventually the cool air will fill the whole cabin I just feel bad for them, summer be hot!
Just want to know what I’m agreeing to or if I need to figure out how to finance an expensive repair on a crap vehicle. Thanks!
2023.06.07 14:03 QuiscoverFontaine Two Strangers Far From Home
Merv’s dull clamour reaches always her first when she arrives, followed closely by the smell; the air dark with the press of tired bodies and smoke and camels. Nisa is grateful that money has no smell else the town would be unbearable.
As always the central market is a deafening forum of voices, every trader trying to argue their way to prosperity. A heaving throng of faces and languages and manner of dress, but all still people just like her. Citizens of nowhere but the roads, of only the spaces between cities.
Among them all, a man catches her eye. The red dust of the road is still caught in his dark hair, his manners conscious and practised, his clothing incongruous even here.
He and Nisa make their trades in fractured sentences with words borrowed from a language neither of them speaks with any fluency. Two strangers both so far from home. Purple dye and red lacquer, gold cloth and bronze mirrors, statues of gods she recognises exchanged for gods she doesn’t. Goods that have been already passed along a relay of dozens of hands passed on once more.
Nisa cannot quite say what it is about him. Perhaps it’s his patience, or that he doesn’t try to cheat her out of a fair deal like so many others. Perhaps it’s the way his expression lifts when his eyes meet hers. Or the way he returns her smile. Or that she allows his hands to linger too long on hers.
They linger after their business is complete, both lacking the words to articulate what lay between them. There is colour in his cheeks. Nisa’s heart is galloping in her chest.
***
It is months before she returns to Merv, arriving heavy with a cargo of gold, wine, raw glass and tempered expectations.
Nisa had thought of him often during her journey there and back again when she had nothing but time as her companion. What might be. The small, warm spark of possibility climbing up into a blaze then settling into low, glowing embers and then down to smouldering ashes.
It had been nothing, she convinces herself. Only a passing politeness and no more. He will have forgotten her in an instant, and she will never see him again. Small mercies.
And yet he is there once more. His face calls out to her from the shifting masses like a beacon, his eyes alight with his recognition of her.
And the sight of him again reminds her that dying embers can still light a fire.
Had he waited for her? Or is this fate?
‘Come with’ he whispers to her that evening, wrapping his warm hands around hers. And in that moment, she is tempted. This is the furthest east she has ever travelled, has never dared leave the familiar safety of Parthia. There is still much further to go.
But would be madness. She hardly knows this man, can barely speak to him. Besides, she has already sold on her Western goods; there will be no market for the heavy silks she just bought back where they came from.
‘Next time. Perhaps,’ she tells him, unsure whether she has missed an opportunity or avoided a mistake. He nods and presses her fingertips to his lips, and her doubts disappear once more.
***
There is no sign of him the next time Nisa returns. She searches through the markets while refusing to trade on her wares, fearful of stumbling into the same mistake as before. New caravans of traders arrive from the east every day, but his face is not among them.
Fate indeed.
What a fool she was to think that he alone might be something solid in a world where nothing is fixed in place. The cities forever full of unfamiliar faces, a different camel at every trading post, always carrying things she cannot keep with only a bag of mismatched coins from places she’s never seen to show for it.
She could give up, go back to Ctesiphon and its comfortable memories. But how long would that last, with the Romans eyeing its walls like hungry wolves, seeking to swallow it whole as they do everywhere else within their reach?
All she has now with any certainty is the same stretch of road back and forth and back again, and the point outside Nishapur where she buried her husband too many years ago.
And certainty in herself.
When the new day begins, cold and clear, Nisa packs her new camel with her unsold goods—the same eastern silk unpicked and rewoven to a fine sheer veil as if it were something new—and joins the next caravan heading east to Bukhara.
There are half a hundred reasons why she’ll likely never see her stranger again. No matter. There’s no use waiting.
---
Original here.
submitted by QuiscoverFontaine to Quiscovery [link] [comments]
As always the central market is a deafening forum of voices, every trader trying to argue their way to prosperity. A heaving throng of faces and languages and manner of dress, but all still people just like her. Citizens of nowhere but the roads, of only the spaces between cities.
Among them all, a man catches her eye. The red dust of the road is still caught in his dark hair, his manners conscious and practised, his clothing incongruous even here.
He and Nisa make their trades in fractured sentences with words borrowed from a language neither of them speaks with any fluency. Two strangers both so far from home. Purple dye and red lacquer, gold cloth and bronze mirrors, statues of gods she recognises exchanged for gods she doesn’t. Goods that have been already passed along a relay of dozens of hands passed on once more.
Nisa cannot quite say what it is about him. Perhaps it’s his patience, or that he doesn’t try to cheat her out of a fair deal like so many others. Perhaps it’s the way his expression lifts when his eyes meet hers. Or the way he returns her smile. Or that she allows his hands to linger too long on hers.
They linger after their business is complete, both lacking the words to articulate what lay between them. There is colour in his cheeks. Nisa’s heart is galloping in her chest.
***
It is months before she returns to Merv, arriving heavy with a cargo of gold, wine, raw glass and tempered expectations.
Nisa had thought of him often during her journey there and back again when she had nothing but time as her companion. What might be. The small, warm spark of possibility climbing up into a blaze then settling into low, glowing embers and then down to smouldering ashes.
It had been nothing, she convinces herself. Only a passing politeness and no more. He will have forgotten her in an instant, and she will never see him again. Small mercies.
And yet he is there once more. His face calls out to her from the shifting masses like a beacon, his eyes alight with his recognition of her.
And the sight of him again reminds her that dying embers can still light a fire.
Had he waited for her? Or is this fate?
‘Come with’ he whispers to her that evening, wrapping his warm hands around hers. And in that moment, she is tempted. This is the furthest east she has ever travelled, has never dared leave the familiar safety of Parthia. There is still much further to go.
But would be madness. She hardly knows this man, can barely speak to him. Besides, she has already sold on her Western goods; there will be no market for the heavy silks she just bought back where they came from.
‘Next time. Perhaps,’ she tells him, unsure whether she has missed an opportunity or avoided a mistake. He nods and presses her fingertips to his lips, and her doubts disappear once more.
***
There is no sign of him the next time Nisa returns. She searches through the markets while refusing to trade on her wares, fearful of stumbling into the same mistake as before. New caravans of traders arrive from the east every day, but his face is not among them.
Fate indeed.
What a fool she was to think that he alone might be something solid in a world where nothing is fixed in place. The cities forever full of unfamiliar faces, a different camel at every trading post, always carrying things she cannot keep with only a bag of mismatched coins from places she’s never seen to show for it.
She could give up, go back to Ctesiphon and its comfortable memories. But how long would that last, with the Romans eyeing its walls like hungry wolves, seeking to swallow it whole as they do everywhere else within their reach?
All she has now with any certainty is the same stretch of road back and forth and back again, and the point outside Nishapur where she buried her husband too many years ago.
And certainty in herself.
When the new day begins, cold and clear, Nisa packs her new camel with her unsold goods—the same eastern silk unpicked and rewoven to a fine sheer veil as if it were something new—and joins the next caravan heading east to Bukhara.
There are half a hundred reasons why she’ll likely never see her stranger again. No matter. There’s no use waiting.
---
Original here.
2023.06.07 13:53 papabear513 The Experiments Beneath Green Haven Penitentiary
I stared up at the magazine cut out of a Maxim model that was crudely pasted on the underside of the top bunk. Her pert breast shimmied ever so slightly as Pete tossed and turned above.
She was platinum blonde with legs long enough to wrap around me twice. Or so the camera angle made it seem. I felt a stirring below, that yearning for a woman’s touch… which I hadn’t felt in six years, three months, and eleven days.
I rolled to my side, stifling it. It was the wrong time to seek out an orgasm, and I knew after the release I’d just spiral into self-loathing anyway. I focused on a crack in the cinder block until my eyelids became heavy.
Static pushed the thought of women from my mind as I slipped into sleep. The smell of cigars and oil flitted through my mind in a memory. My dad’s repair shop. The one I was meant to take over, before the arrest…
------
“Aaaarrgghh!”
A cry echoing from somewhere deep within the prison startled me awake. My heart thundered in my chest like a rabbit thrashing against its cage.
I rolled over to see Pete crouching low, his face pressed against the bars.
“What’s going on?” I croaked.
“They’re taking Benny.” He whispered.
“Fuck, really?” I pulled myself to the top corner of my mattress, just enough to peer around the edge of the bars.
Two guards wrestled the young latino onto a gurney as a man in a lab coat watched from a distance. He fought against them but it was futile. Once the straps were locked in he screamed once more, pleading for help.
Dozens of eyes watched from dim lit cells, none of which stirring to offer assistance in the slightest. We knew there was no helping him. We knew what happened next…
His cries were muffled as the doctor jammed a syringe into the base of his neck. Benny’s muscles tensed and pulsed in the fit of a seizure, but then lay still. The cell block was silent once more as they wheeled him down the hall and into the catacombs.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray. Once they took them, they never came back.
“A damn shame…” I muttered.
“Yeah, he was a good kid…” Pete stood and leapt back onto the top bunk.
A fire burned in my chest. I wanted to say something. To cry out about the injustice of what was happening to us. That committing a crime shouldn’t damn a man to whatever terrible fate they had instore for us below three feet of steel and a quarter mile of dirt.
But I didn’t… What good could it do? Other than drawing attention to me in a very negative way.
Once they took you to the lab, you were never seen again.
All you could do was hope that your number was never called, and that you got out of here before they visited your cell late into the night.
—-----
87…88…89…90…
My chest was on fire as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t go back to sleep last night. Kept thinking about Benny.
91…92…93…
So began the push-ups. It was the only way to clear my head.
94…95…96…
My therapy.
97…98…99…100.
I rolled to my back, out of breath.
Three years, six months and change.
So much time left to go.
Benny had only been here for a little over a year. It made no sense…
None of us could figure out exactly why they took who they took. There seemed to be no method to the madness.
Just a couple weeks ago they took old man Tom Finch. He’d been here longer than any of us. A lifer on the account of premeditated murder back in the 70s. But they didn’t come for him until he’d served most of his adult life behind bars.
The red beacon suddenly swirled above. A buzzing sound hummed as the cell doors clicked and slid open.
Breakfast.
—----
I pulled my tray along the bar to be loaded with oats, powdered eggs and bread.
Meager rations.
I grabbed a small carton of milk and made my way over to sit with Pete. He was already nibbling on his toast while perusing a crossword puzzle.
We exchanged nods and I went to devouring the entirety of my plate.
Calories build muscle after all.
Which was something Pete had no interest in. He was a bookworm through and through. Rail thin too. When we’d met, I’d assumed it was from the drug problem he’d had on the outside, which ultimately landed him in incarceration. But come to find out it was just his metabolism and general lack of appetite.
“John…” He whispered.
I looked up from my feast.
He was looking to the corner of the cafeteria and I followed his gaze to see two men in lab coats surveying the crowd.
I grunted and squeezed the handle of my fork until my knuckles went white. The impulse of burying it into their throats was almost overwhelming.
“Their activity has been ramping up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been seeing them much more frequently as of late. They must be close to a breakthrough.”
“Breakthrough of what?” I furrowed my brow.
“Who knows? Whatever it is they are doing down there. They’ve been taking us more often as well.”
Pete sighed at the twist of confusion on my face.
“Think about it… Benny last night, then Tom two weeks before that. Then Eric ten days before that, and Deonte maybe three weeks prior. It’s never been that close together. Until recently, they only came perhaps once every other month. Sometimes only once a season.”
Shit… he was right. I hadn’t realized it before.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, shoving another hunk of egg into my mouth.
“I have no idea. But I’d say our odds of survival have been reduced dramatically.”
—-----
Pete might as well have been an oracle, peering into our grim and desolate future.
Over the next several months we started seeing the lab coats weekly. Sometimes even more often than that.
The prison yard felt empty. Sure there were still plenty of us left, but our population had been noticeably trimmed. One gang in particular only had two members left, which didn’t bode well for them. The others slowly circled them like sharks. I had no affiliation with any of them and kept to myself. But still, I could see their fate a mile away.
Although, despite the business as usual dog eat dog atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of fear rippling through the general pop. You could smell it, like a scent of decay and desperation. Hard faces that had once promised violence, now almost flinched around every corner and jumped at each shadow.
The energy of a couple of hundred men that felt like an animal backed into a corner was palpable.
But what could we do?
I didn’t know but I sure wish someone would tell me… I threw myself into my workouts and Pete hardly ever looked up from a book. Escapism was our only reprieve.
I went to bed with a prayer on my lips, hoping I wouldn’t hear those iron bars moving in the late hours of the night.
—-----
A loud clanking followed by footsteps pulled me from sleep.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut hoping it was the cell next to mine.
But it wasn’t…
Three guards hovered behind a fourth that was unlocking our cell. The bars clicked and began to slide open.
I jumped to my feet and backed up against the wall. I pulled my fists up into a boxing stance, I wasn’t going to go without a fight. My muscles tensed and flexed like coiled steel.
“In the corner inmate! We’re here for your cellmate.” A short and stocky corrections officer barked with his hand gripping the baton at his waist.
Pete squirmed into a ball at the corner of his mat and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I put my face in the opposite corner as instructed. A mixture of fear and relief roiled in my gut, and I hated myself for it. It made me feel like a coward.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I heard Pete squeal from behind as guards flooded the cell.
I peaked over my shoulder and watched as they pried him from the top bunk. Pete tried to resist, but there was nothing to him. A bag of bones that they easily wrestled down.
That same fire ignited in my chest. Anger washed over me, cleansing away the cowardice. For God’s sake, he was my only friend.
All I could see was red.
I spun around bringing the back of my fist across a guard’s face, shattering the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from it as he dropped Pete’s legs.
With a giant step forward I brought an uppercut into the portly officer’s abdomen, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
I shoved a third into the corner, pinning him there as I screamed for Pete to run. He scampered out the opening and the last thing I heard were his footfalls as a baton smashed across the back of my skull. Everything went black before I even hit the ground.
—-----
I spent a month in solitary.
The room was so small it should have been inhumane to house a human being inside of it.
Still… I made the best of it with dips, pushups and situps. Countless reps of them. It was all I could do.
Some mornings I’d wake up with horrible migraines. I assumed it was a slight concussion from the impact of the baton.
I only hoped Pete could have somehow made it out. But somewhere deep down I knew that would have been impossible. Hopefully he at least gave them some hell before they took him below.
I stopped praying before bed. It didn’t seem like it did any good.
If there was a God, he didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
—-------
When I finally got back to my cell it had been emptied of everything. Pete’s books, artwork from his niece and even my Maxim cutout.
Just like he’d never existed. My heart sunk at the sight.
Later that day I’d learned from others that he had been captured just moments after escaping the cell.
But our actions weren’t wasted in vain.
We were the first to fight back against the abduction and it sparked something in the others.
They started talks of an uprising a few weeks back. A prison riot.
They even had a guard on the inside. C.O. Matthews. He was a very religious man and was just as horrified by what was happening as we were and had been looking for a way to help.
“It’s going down tonight John, just before lights out. Be ready.” Jerry whispered at the picnic table.
I gave a nod that I understood and headed off for my daily jog around the courts.
It wasn’t about getting out. Getting free. That wasn’t going to happen. It was about sending a message.
I let my mind go blank, filling with static as I enjoyed what could be my last day outside.
—------
The beacon swirled overhead in the common area.
“Inmates to their cells. Lights out.” The intercom buzzed.
There were over fifty men in cell block B, and not a single one of us moved.
The voice on the intercom repeated himself angrily as guards began to shuffle in closer. Nods passed like dominoes from one inmate to the next. We were ready.
“Get to your cell inmate.” a guard growled as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders.
I threw an elbow behind me into his groin, he howled in pain as he hit the floor. The other inmates sprung to their feet and flew off from their leaning places to join in the brawl.
Fists, feet and batons flew wildly across the cell block as we engaged in war with the uniformed officers.
I grappled with one until I was able to submit him in a choke until he went limp in my arms.
I stomped another in the face, spilling blood and brains on the concrete floor.
It had looked like we were winning until they sent the special response team in. We formed a line, many of us battered and bloody, in front of the row of riot shields.
We waited for their charge for what felt like an eternity.
But suddenly they backed out from where they’d come and slid the cell block doors closed.
What the hell…
The red beacon swirled once again overhead as a clicking sounded out behind us.
The rear entrance that the lab coats had always used swung open. I spun around to see…
“Mary, mother of God.” I gasped.
It was Pete…
But there was something horribly wrong with him.
His skin clung loosely to his body and had a terrible jaundice looking hue to it. His eyes almost seemed to glow and his hands… they were impossibly large like contorted branches.
I held my hand up to my mouth in disbelief.
A scientist stepped out from behind him.
“As you can see, we have a few kinks left to iron out, but we are making great progress. Would you all care to see what he can do?” He looked into each of our eyes inquisitively.
“If you don’t, head back to your cells now. You have ten seconds and then I shall release him.”
It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. But a violent and hungry energy filled the room, emanating from what used to be my friend.
Suddenly, over half the remaining inmates bolted for their cells out of fear. Not that I could blame them, my knees wobbled and threatened to buckle just at the sight of him.
But I stood my ground, as did a handful of others.
“Very well then. Specimen 3-1-0, engage.”
A growl reverberated through the cell block.
“Everyone rush him at once! It’s our only shot.” I hollered.
And we did, but it didn’t matter. It happened so fast. It was over before I could even comprehend it.
He moved like an animal, picking each of us apart almost in unison.
I lay on my back, unable to feel my legs as I watched Jerry be disemboweled. He was trying to shove his intestines back inside the tear in his abdomen before the creature came back to finish him off.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray.
As Pete stood over me, with dead eyes, I knew there was no God.
He didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
submitted by papabear513 to HFY [link] [comments]
She was platinum blonde with legs long enough to wrap around me twice. Or so the camera angle made it seem. I felt a stirring below, that yearning for a woman’s touch… which I hadn’t felt in six years, three months, and eleven days.
I rolled to my side, stifling it. It was the wrong time to seek out an orgasm, and I knew after the release I’d just spiral into self-loathing anyway. I focused on a crack in the cinder block until my eyelids became heavy.
Static pushed the thought of women from my mind as I slipped into sleep. The smell of cigars and oil flitted through my mind in a memory. My dad’s repair shop. The one I was meant to take over, before the arrest…
------
“Aaaarrgghh!”
A cry echoing from somewhere deep within the prison startled me awake. My heart thundered in my chest like a rabbit thrashing against its cage.
I rolled over to see Pete crouching low, his face pressed against the bars.
“What’s going on?” I croaked.
“They’re taking Benny.” He whispered.
“Fuck, really?” I pulled myself to the top corner of my mattress, just enough to peer around the edge of the bars.
Two guards wrestled the young latino onto a gurney as a man in a lab coat watched from a distance. He fought against them but it was futile. Once the straps were locked in he screamed once more, pleading for help.
Dozens of eyes watched from dim lit cells, none of which stirring to offer assistance in the slightest. We knew there was no helping him. We knew what happened next…
His cries were muffled as the doctor jammed a syringe into the base of his neck. Benny’s muscles tensed and pulsed in the fit of a seizure, but then lay still. The cell block was silent once more as they wheeled him down the hall and into the catacombs.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray. Once they took them, they never came back.
“A damn shame…” I muttered.
“Yeah, he was a good kid…” Pete stood and leapt back onto the top bunk.
A fire burned in my chest. I wanted to say something. To cry out about the injustice of what was happening to us. That committing a crime shouldn’t damn a man to whatever terrible fate they had instore for us below three feet of steel and a quarter mile of dirt.
But I didn’t… What good could it do? Other than drawing attention to me in a very negative way.
Once they took you to the lab, you were never seen again.
All you could do was hope that your number was never called, and that you got out of here before they visited your cell late into the night.
—-----
87…88…89…90…
My chest was on fire as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t go back to sleep last night. Kept thinking about Benny.
91…92…93…
So began the push-ups. It was the only way to clear my head.
94…95…96…
My therapy.
97…98…99…100.
I rolled to my back, out of breath.
Three years, six months and change.
So much time left to go.
Benny had only been here for a little over a year. It made no sense…
None of us could figure out exactly why they took who they took. There seemed to be no method to the madness.
Just a couple weeks ago they took old man Tom Finch. He’d been here longer than any of us. A lifer on the account of premeditated murder back in the 70s. But they didn’t come for him until he’d served most of his adult life behind bars.
The red beacon suddenly swirled above. A buzzing sound hummed as the cell doors clicked and slid open.
Breakfast.
—----
I pulled my tray along the bar to be loaded with oats, powdered eggs and bread.
Meager rations.
I grabbed a small carton of milk and made my way over to sit with Pete. He was already nibbling on his toast while perusing a crossword puzzle.
We exchanged nods and I went to devouring the entirety of my plate.
Calories build muscle after all.
Which was something Pete had no interest in. He was a bookworm through and through. Rail thin too. When we’d met, I’d assumed it was from the drug problem he’d had on the outside, which ultimately landed him in incarceration. But come to find out it was just his metabolism and general lack of appetite.
“John…” He whispered.
I looked up from my feast.
He was looking to the corner of the cafeteria and I followed his gaze to see two men in lab coats surveying the crowd.
I grunted and squeezed the handle of my fork until my knuckles went white. The impulse of burying it into their throats was almost overwhelming.
“Their activity has been ramping up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been seeing them much more frequently as of late. They must be close to a breakthrough.”
“Breakthrough of what?” I furrowed my brow.
“Who knows? Whatever it is they are doing down there. They’ve been taking us more often as well.”
Pete sighed at the twist of confusion on my face.
“Think about it… Benny last night, then Tom two weeks before that. Then Eric ten days before that, and Deonte maybe three weeks prior. It’s never been that close together. Until recently, they only came perhaps once every other month. Sometimes only once a season.”
Shit… he was right. I hadn’t realized it before.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, shoving another hunk of egg into my mouth.
“I have no idea. But I’d say our odds of survival have been reduced dramatically.”
—-----
Pete might as well have been an oracle, peering into our grim and desolate future.
Over the next several months we started seeing the lab coats weekly. Sometimes even more often than that.
The prison yard felt empty. Sure there were still plenty of us left, but our population had been noticeably trimmed. One gang in particular only had two members left, which didn’t bode well for them. The others slowly circled them like sharks. I had no affiliation with any of them and kept to myself. But still, I could see their fate a mile away.
Although, despite the business as usual dog eat dog atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of fear rippling through the general pop. You could smell it, like a scent of decay and desperation. Hard faces that had once promised violence, now almost flinched around every corner and jumped at each shadow.
The energy of a couple of hundred men that felt like an animal backed into a corner was palpable.
But what could we do?
I didn’t know but I sure wish someone would tell me… I threw myself into my workouts and Pete hardly ever looked up from a book. Escapism was our only reprieve.
I went to bed with a prayer on my lips, hoping I wouldn’t hear those iron bars moving in the late hours of the night.
—-----
A loud clanking followed by footsteps pulled me from sleep.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut hoping it was the cell next to mine.
But it wasn’t…
Three guards hovered behind a fourth that was unlocking our cell. The bars clicked and began to slide open.
I jumped to my feet and backed up against the wall. I pulled my fists up into a boxing stance, I wasn’t going to go without a fight. My muscles tensed and flexed like coiled steel.
“In the corner inmate! We’re here for your cellmate.” A short and stocky corrections officer barked with his hand gripping the baton at his waist.
Pete squirmed into a ball at the corner of his mat and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I put my face in the opposite corner as instructed. A mixture of fear and relief roiled in my gut, and I hated myself for it. It made me feel like a coward.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I heard Pete squeal from behind as guards flooded the cell.
I peaked over my shoulder and watched as they pried him from the top bunk. Pete tried to resist, but there was nothing to him. A bag of bones that they easily wrestled down.
That same fire ignited in my chest. Anger washed over me, cleansing away the cowardice. For God’s sake, he was my only friend.
All I could see was red.
I spun around bringing the back of my fist across a guard’s face, shattering the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from it as he dropped Pete’s legs.
With a giant step forward I brought an uppercut into the portly officer’s abdomen, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
I shoved a third into the corner, pinning him there as I screamed for Pete to run. He scampered out the opening and the last thing I heard were his footfalls as a baton smashed across the back of my skull. Everything went black before I even hit the ground.
—-----
I spent a month in solitary.
The room was so small it should have been inhumane to house a human being inside of it.
Still… I made the best of it with dips, pushups and situps. Countless reps of them. It was all I could do.
Some mornings I’d wake up with horrible migraines. I assumed it was a slight concussion from the impact of the baton.
I only hoped Pete could have somehow made it out. But somewhere deep down I knew that would have been impossible. Hopefully he at least gave them some hell before they took him below.
I stopped praying before bed. It didn’t seem like it did any good.
If there was a God, he didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
—-------
When I finally got back to my cell it had been emptied of everything. Pete’s books, artwork from his niece and even my Maxim cutout.
Just like he’d never existed. My heart sunk at the sight.
Later that day I’d learned from others that he had been captured just moments after escaping the cell.
But our actions weren’t wasted in vain.
We were the first to fight back against the abduction and it sparked something in the others.
They started talks of an uprising a few weeks back. A prison riot.
They even had a guard on the inside. C.O. Matthews. He was a very religious man and was just as horrified by what was happening as we were and had been looking for a way to help.
“It’s going down tonight John, just before lights out. Be ready.” Jerry whispered at the picnic table.
I gave a nod that I understood and headed off for my daily jog around the courts.
It wasn’t about getting out. Getting free. That wasn’t going to happen. It was about sending a message.
I let my mind go blank, filling with static as I enjoyed what could be my last day outside.
—------
The beacon swirled overhead in the common area.
“Inmates to their cells. Lights out.” The intercom buzzed.
There were over fifty men in cell block B, and not a single one of us moved.
The voice on the intercom repeated himself angrily as guards began to shuffle in closer. Nods passed like dominoes from one inmate to the next. We were ready.
“Get to your cell inmate.” a guard growled as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders.
I threw an elbow behind me into his groin, he howled in pain as he hit the floor. The other inmates sprung to their feet and flew off from their leaning places to join in the brawl.
Fists, feet and batons flew wildly across the cell block as we engaged in war with the uniformed officers.
I grappled with one until I was able to submit him in a choke until he went limp in my arms.
I stomped another in the face, spilling blood and brains on the concrete floor.
It had looked like we were winning until they sent the special response team in. We formed a line, many of us battered and bloody, in front of the row of riot shields.
We waited for their charge for what felt like an eternity.
But suddenly they backed out from where they’d come and slid the cell block doors closed.
What the hell…
The red beacon swirled once again overhead as a clicking sounded out behind us.
The rear entrance that the lab coats had always used swung open. I spun around to see…
“Mary, mother of God.” I gasped.
It was Pete…
But there was something horribly wrong with him.
His skin clung loosely to his body and had a terrible jaundice looking hue to it. His eyes almost seemed to glow and his hands… they were impossibly large like contorted branches.
I held my hand up to my mouth in disbelief.
A scientist stepped out from behind him.
“As you can see, we have a few kinks left to iron out, but we are making great progress. Would you all care to see what he can do?” He looked into each of our eyes inquisitively.
“If you don’t, head back to your cells now. You have ten seconds and then I shall release him.”
It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. But a violent and hungry energy filled the room, emanating from what used to be my friend.
Suddenly, over half the remaining inmates bolted for their cells out of fear. Not that I could blame them, my knees wobbled and threatened to buckle just at the sight of him.
But I stood my ground, as did a handful of others.
“Very well then. Specimen 3-1-0, engage.”
A growl reverberated through the cell block.
“Everyone rush him at once! It’s our only shot.” I hollered.
And we did, but it didn’t matter. It happened so fast. It was over before I could even comprehend it.
He moved like an animal, picking each of us apart almost in unison.
I lay on my back, unable to feel my legs as I watched Jerry be disemboweled. He was trying to shove his intestines back inside the tear in his abdomen before the creature came back to finish him off.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray.
As Pete stood over me, with dead eyes, I knew there was no God.
He didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
2023.06.07 13:51 papabear513 The Experiments Beneath Green Haven Penitentiary
I stared up at the magazine cut out of a Maxim model that was crudely pasted on the underside of the top bunk. Her pert breast shimmied ever so slightly as Pete tossed and turned above.
She was platinum blonde with legs long enough to wrap around me twice. Or so the camera angle made it seem. I felt a stirring below, that yearning for a woman’s touch… which I hadn’t felt in six years, three months, and eleven days.
I rolled to my side, stifling it. It was the wrong time to seek out an orgasm, and I knew after the release I’d just spiral into self-loathing anyway. I focused on a crack in the cinder block until my eyelids became heavy.
Static pushed the thought of women from my mind as I slipped into sleep. The smell of cigars and oil flitted through my mind in a memory. My dad’s repair shop. The one I was meant to take over, before the arrest…
------
“Aaaarrgghh!”
A cry echoing from somewhere deep within the prison startled me awake. My heart thundered in my chest like a rabbit thrashing against its cage.
I rolled over to see Pete crouching low, his face pressed against the bars.
“What’s going on?” I croaked.
“They’re taking Benny.” He whispered.
“Fuck, really?” I pulled myself to the top corner of my mattress, just enough to peer around the edge of the bars.
Two guards wrestled the young latino onto a gurney as a man in a lab coat watched from a distance. He fought against them but it was futile. Once the straps were locked in he screamed once more, pleading for help.
Dozens of eyes watched from dim lit cells, none of which stirring to offer assistance in the slightest. We knew there was no helping him. We knew what happened next…
His cries were muffled as the doctor jammed a syringe into the base of his neck. Benny’s muscles tensed and pulsed in the fit of a seizure, but then lay still. The cell block was silent once more as they wheeled him down the hall and into the catacombs.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray. Once they took them, they never came back.
“A damn shame…” I muttered.
“Yeah, he was a good kid…” Pete stood and leapt back onto the top bunk.
A fire burned in my chest. I wanted to say something. To cry out about the injustice of what was happening to us. That committing a crime shouldn’t damn a man to whatever terrible fate they had instore for us below three feet of steel and a quarter mile of dirt.
But I didn’t… What good could it do? Other than drawing attention to me in a very negative way.
Once they took you to the lab, you were never seen again.
All you could do was hope that your number was never called, and that you got out of here before they visited your cell late into the night.
—-----
87…88…89…90…
My chest was on fire as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t go back to sleep last night. Kept thinking about Benny.
91…92…93…
So began the push-ups. It was the only way to clear my head.
94…95…96…
My therapy.
97…98…99…100.
I rolled to my back, out of breath.
Three years, six months and change.
So much time left to go.
Benny had only been here for a little over a year. It made no sense…
None of us could figure out exactly why they took who they took. There seemed to be no method to the madness.
Just a couple weeks ago they took old man Tom Finch. He’d been here longer than any of us. A lifer on the account of premeditated murder back in the 70s. But they didn’t come for him until he’d served most of his adult life behind bars.
The red beacon suddenly swirled above. A buzzing sound hummed as the cell doors clicked and slid open.
Breakfast.
—----
I pulled my tray along the bar to be loaded with oats, powdered eggs and bread.
Meager rations.
I grabbed a small carton of milk and made my way over to sit with Pete. He was already nibbling on his toast while perusing a crossword puzzle.
We exchanged nods and I went to devouring the entirety of my plate.
Calories build muscle after all.
Which was something Pete had no interest in. He was a bookworm through and through. Rail thin too. When we’d met, I’d assumed it was from the drug problem he’d had on the outside, which ultimately landed him in incarceration. But come to find out it was just his metabolism and general lack of appetite.
“John…” He whispered.
I looked up from my feast.
He was looking to the corner of the cafeteria and I followed his gaze to see two men in lab coats surveying the crowd.
I grunted and squeezed the handle of my fork until my knuckles went white. The impulse of burying it into their throats was almost overwhelming.
“Their activity has been ramping up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been seeing them much more frequently as of late. They must be close to a breakthrough.”
“Breakthrough of what?” I furrowed my brow.
“Who knows? Whatever it is they are doing down there. They’ve been taking us more often as well.”
Pete sighed at the twist of confusion on my face.
“Think about it… Benny last night, then Tom two weeks before that. Then Eric ten days before that, and Deonte maybe three weeks prior. It’s never been that close together. Until recently, they only came perhaps once every other month. Sometimes only once a season.”
Shit… he was right. I hadn’t realized it before.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, shoving another hunk of egg into my mouth.
“I have no idea. But I’d say our odds of survival have been reduced dramatically.”
—-----
Pete might as well have been an oracle, peering into our grim and desolate future.
Over the next several months we started seeing the lab coats weekly. Sometimes even more often than that.
The prison yard felt empty. Sure there were still plenty of us left, but our population had been noticeably trimmed. One gang in particular only had two members left, which didn’t bode well for them. The others slowly circled them like sharks. I had no affiliation with any of them and kept to myself. But still, I could see their fate a mile away.
Although, despite the business as usual dog eat dog atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of fear rippling through the general pop. You could smell it, like a scent of decay and desperation. Hard faces that had once promised violence, now almost flinched around every corner and jumped at each shadow.
The energy of a couple of hundred men that felt like an animal backed into a corner was palpable.
But what could we do?
I didn’t know but I sure wish someone would tell me… I threw myself into my workouts and Pete hardly ever looked up from a book. Escapism was our only reprieve.
I went to bed with a prayer on my lips, hoping I wouldn’t hear those iron bars moving in the late hours of the night.
—-----
A loud clanking followed by footsteps pulled me from sleep.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut hoping it was the cell next to mine.
But it wasn’t…
Three guards hovered behind a fourth that was unlocking our cell. The bars clicked and began to slide open.
I jumped to my feet and backed up against the wall. I pulled my fists up into a boxing stance, I wasn’t going to go without a fight. My muscles tensed and flexed like coiled steel.
“In the corner inmate! We’re here for your cellmate.” A short and stocky corrections officer barked with his hand gripping the baton at his waist.
Pete squirmed into a ball at the corner of his mat and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I put my face in the opposite corner as instructed. A mixture of fear and relief roiled in my gut, and I hated myself for it. It made me feel like a coward.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I heard Pete squeal from behind as guards flooded the cell.
I peaked over my shoulder and watched as they pried him from the top bunk. Pete tried to resist, but there was nothing to him. A bag of bones that they easily wrestled down.
That same fire ignited in my chest. Anger washed over me, cleansing away the cowardice. For God’s sake, he was my only friend.
All I could see was red.
I spun around bringing the back of my fist across a guard’s face, shattering the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from it as he dropped Pete’s legs.
With a giant step forward I brought an uppercut into the portly officer’s abdomen, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
I shoved a third into the corner, pinning him there as I screamed for Pete to run. He scampered out the opening and the last thing I heard were his footfalls as a baton smashed across the back of my skull. Everything went black before I even hit the ground.
—-----
I spent a month in solitary.
The room was so small it should have been inhumane to house a human being inside of it.
Still… I made the best of it with dips, pushups and situps. Countless reps of them. It was all I could do.
Some mornings I’d wake up with horrible migraines. I assumed it was a slight concussion from the impact of the baton.
I only hoped Pete could have somehow made it out. But somewhere deep down I knew that would have been impossible. Hopefully he at least gave them some hell before they took him below.
I stopped praying before bed. It didn’t seem like it did any good.
If there was a God, he didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
—-------
When I finally got back to my cell it had been emptied of everything. Pete’s books, artwork from his niece and even my Maxim cutout.
Just like he’d never existed. My heart sunk at the sight.
Later that day I’d learned from others that he had been captured just moments after escaping the cell.
But our actions weren’t wasted in vain.
We were the first to fight back against the abduction and it sparked something in the others.
They started talks of an uprising a few weeks back. A prison riot.
They even had a guard on the inside. C.O. Matthews. He was a very religious man and was just as horrified by what was happening as we were and had been looking for a way to help.
“It’s going down tonight John, just before lights out. Be ready.” Jerry whispered at the picnic table.
I gave a nod that I understood and headed off for my daily jog around the courts.
It wasn’t about getting out. Getting free. That wasn’t going to happen. It was about sending a message.
I let my mind go blank, filling with static as I enjoyed what could be my last day outside.
—------
The beacon swirled overhead in the common area.
“Inmates to their cells. Lights out.” The intercom buzzed.
There were over fifty men in cell block B, and not a single one of us moved.
The voice on the intercom repeated himself angrily as guards began to shuffle in closer. Nods passed like dominoes from one inmate to the next. We were ready.
“Get to your cell inmate.” a guard growled as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders.
I threw an elbow behind me into his groin, he howled in pain as he hit the floor. The other inmates sprung to their feet and flew off from their leaning places to join in the brawl.
Fists, feet and batons flew wildly across the cell block as we engaged in war with the uniformed officers.
I grappled with one until I was able to submit him in a choke until he went limp in my arms.
I stomped another in the face, spilling blood and brains on the concrete floor.
It had looked like we were winning until they sent the special response team in. We formed a line, many of us battered and bloody, in front of the row of riot shields.
We waited for their charge for what felt like an eternity.
But suddenly they backed out from where they’d come and slid the cell block doors closed.
What the hell…
The red beacon swirled once again overhead as a clicking sounded out behind us.
The rear entrance that the lab coats had always used swung open. I spun around to see…
“Mary, mother of God.” I gasped.
It was Pete…
But there was something horribly wrong with him.
His skin clung loosely to his body and had a terrible jaundice looking hue to it. His eyes almost seemed to glow and his hands… they were impossibly large like contorted branches.
I held my hand up to my mouth in disbelief.
A scientist stepped out from behind him.
“As you can see, we have a few kinks left to iron out, but we are making great progress. Would you all care to see what he can do?” He looked into each of our eyes inquisitively.
“If you don’t, head back to your cells now. You have ten seconds and then I shall release him.”
It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. But a violent and hungry energy filled the room, emanating from what used to be my friend.
Suddenly, over half the remaining inmates bolted for their cells out of fear. Not that I could blame them, my knees wobbled and threatened to buckle just at the sight of him.
But I stood my ground, as did a handful of others.
“Very well then. Specimen 3-1-0, engage.”
A growl reverberated through the cell block.
“Everyone rush him at once! It’s our only shot.” I hollered.
And we did, but it didn’t matter. It happened so fast. It was over before I could even comprehend it.
He moved like an animal, picking each of us apart almost in unison.
I lay on my back, unable to feel my legs as I watched Jerry be disemboweled. He was trying to shove his intestines back inside the tear in his abdomen before the creature came back to finish him off.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray.
As Pete stood over me, with dead eyes, I knew there was no God.
He didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
submitted by papabear513 to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]
She was platinum blonde with legs long enough to wrap around me twice. Or so the camera angle made it seem. I felt a stirring below, that yearning for a woman’s touch… which I hadn’t felt in six years, three months, and eleven days.
I rolled to my side, stifling it. It was the wrong time to seek out an orgasm, and I knew after the release I’d just spiral into self-loathing anyway. I focused on a crack in the cinder block until my eyelids became heavy.
Static pushed the thought of women from my mind as I slipped into sleep. The smell of cigars and oil flitted through my mind in a memory. My dad’s repair shop. The one I was meant to take over, before the arrest…
------
“Aaaarrgghh!”
A cry echoing from somewhere deep within the prison startled me awake. My heart thundered in my chest like a rabbit thrashing against its cage.
I rolled over to see Pete crouching low, his face pressed against the bars.
“What’s going on?” I croaked.
“They’re taking Benny.” He whispered.
“Fuck, really?” I pulled myself to the top corner of my mattress, just enough to peer around the edge of the bars.
Two guards wrestled the young latino onto a gurney as a man in a lab coat watched from a distance. He fought against them but it was futile. Once the straps were locked in he screamed once more, pleading for help.
Dozens of eyes watched from dim lit cells, none of which stirring to offer assistance in the slightest. We knew there was no helping him. We knew what happened next…
His cries were muffled as the doctor jammed a syringe into the base of his neck. Benny’s muscles tensed and pulsed in the fit of a seizure, but then lay still. The cell block was silent once more as they wheeled him down the hall and into the catacombs.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray. Once they took them, they never came back.
“A damn shame…” I muttered.
“Yeah, he was a good kid…” Pete stood and leapt back onto the top bunk.
A fire burned in my chest. I wanted to say something. To cry out about the injustice of what was happening to us. That committing a crime shouldn’t damn a man to whatever terrible fate they had instore for us below three feet of steel and a quarter mile of dirt.
But I didn’t… What good could it do? Other than drawing attention to me in a very negative way.
Once they took you to the lab, you were never seen again.
All you could do was hope that your number was never called, and that you got out of here before they visited your cell late into the night.
—-----
87…88…89…90…
My chest was on fire as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t go back to sleep last night. Kept thinking about Benny.
91…92…93…
So began the push-ups. It was the only way to clear my head.
94…95…96…
My therapy.
97…98…99…100.
I rolled to my back, out of breath.
Three years, six months and change.
So much time left to go.
Benny had only been here for a little over a year. It made no sense…
None of us could figure out exactly why they took who they took. There seemed to be no method to the madness.
Just a couple weeks ago they took old man Tom Finch. He’d been here longer than any of us. A lifer on the account of premeditated murder back in the 70s. But they didn’t come for him until he’d served most of his adult life behind bars.
The red beacon suddenly swirled above. A buzzing sound hummed as the cell doors clicked and slid open.
Breakfast.
—----
I pulled my tray along the bar to be loaded with oats, powdered eggs and bread.
Meager rations.
I grabbed a small carton of milk and made my way over to sit with Pete. He was already nibbling on his toast while perusing a crossword puzzle.
We exchanged nods and I went to devouring the entirety of my plate.
Calories build muscle after all.
Which was something Pete had no interest in. He was a bookworm through and through. Rail thin too. When we’d met, I’d assumed it was from the drug problem he’d had on the outside, which ultimately landed him in incarceration. But come to find out it was just his metabolism and general lack of appetite.
“John…” He whispered.
I looked up from my feast.
He was looking to the corner of the cafeteria and I followed his gaze to see two men in lab coats surveying the crowd.
I grunted and squeezed the handle of my fork until my knuckles went white. The impulse of burying it into their throats was almost overwhelming.
“Their activity has been ramping up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been seeing them much more frequently as of late. They must be close to a breakthrough.”
“Breakthrough of what?” I furrowed my brow.
“Who knows? Whatever it is they are doing down there. They’ve been taking us more often as well.”
Pete sighed at the twist of confusion on my face.
“Think about it… Benny last night, then Tom two weeks before that. Then Eric ten days before that, and Deonte maybe three weeks prior. It’s never been that close together. Until recently, they only came perhaps once every other month. Sometimes only once a season.”
Shit… he was right. I hadn’t realized it before.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, shoving another hunk of egg into my mouth.
“I have no idea. But I’d say our odds of survival have been reduced dramatically.”
—-----
Pete might as well have been an oracle, peering into our grim and desolate future.
Over the next several months we started seeing the lab coats weekly. Sometimes even more often than that.
The prison yard felt empty. Sure there were still plenty of us left, but our population had been noticeably trimmed. One gang in particular only had two members left, which didn’t bode well for them. The others slowly circled them like sharks. I had no affiliation with any of them and kept to myself. But still, I could see their fate a mile away.
Although, despite the business as usual dog eat dog atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of fear rippling through the general pop. You could smell it, like a scent of decay and desperation. Hard faces that had once promised violence, now almost flinched around every corner and jumped at each shadow.
The energy of a couple of hundred men that felt like an animal backed into a corner was palpable.
But what could we do?
I didn’t know but I sure wish someone would tell me… I threw myself into my workouts and Pete hardly ever looked up from a book. Escapism was our only reprieve.
I went to bed with a prayer on my lips, hoping I wouldn’t hear those iron bars moving in the late hours of the night.
—-----
A loud clanking followed by footsteps pulled me from sleep.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut hoping it was the cell next to mine.
But it wasn’t…
Three guards hovered behind a fourth that was unlocking our cell. The bars clicked and began to slide open.
I jumped to my feet and backed up against the wall. I pulled my fists up into a boxing stance, I wasn’t going to go without a fight. My muscles tensed and flexed like coiled steel.
“In the corner inmate! We’re here for your cellmate.” A short and stocky corrections officer barked with his hand gripping the baton at his waist.
Pete squirmed into a ball at the corner of his mat and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I put my face in the opposite corner as instructed. A mixture of fear and relief roiled in my gut, and I hated myself for it. It made me feel like a coward.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I heard Pete squeal from behind as guards flooded the cell.
I peaked over my shoulder and watched as they pried him from the top bunk. Pete tried to resist, but there was nothing to him. A bag of bones that they easily wrestled down.
That same fire ignited in my chest. Anger washed over me, cleansing away the cowardice. For God’s sake, he was my only friend.
All I could see was red.
I spun around bringing the back of my fist across a guard’s face, shattering the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from it as he dropped Pete’s legs.
With a giant step forward I brought an uppercut into the portly officer’s abdomen, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
I shoved a third into the corner, pinning him there as I screamed for Pete to run. He scampered out the opening and the last thing I heard were his footfalls as a baton smashed across the back of my skull. Everything went black before I even hit the ground.
—-----
I spent a month in solitary.
The room was so small it should have been inhumane to house a human being inside of it.
Still… I made the best of it with dips, pushups and situps. Countless reps of them. It was all I could do.
Some mornings I’d wake up with horrible migraines. I assumed it was a slight concussion from the impact of the baton.
I only hoped Pete could have somehow made it out. But somewhere deep down I knew that would have been impossible. Hopefully he at least gave them some hell before they took him below.
I stopped praying before bed. It didn’t seem like it did any good.
If there was a God, he didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
—-------
When I finally got back to my cell it had been emptied of everything. Pete’s books, artwork from his niece and even my Maxim cutout.
Just like he’d never existed. My heart sunk at the sight.
Later that day I’d learned from others that he had been captured just moments after escaping the cell.
But our actions weren’t wasted in vain.
We were the first to fight back against the abduction and it sparked something in the others.
They started talks of an uprising a few weeks back. A prison riot.
They even had a guard on the inside. C.O. Matthews. He was a very religious man and was just as horrified by what was happening as we were and had been looking for a way to help.
“It’s going down tonight John, just before lights out. Be ready.” Jerry whispered at the picnic table.
I gave a nod that I understood and headed off for my daily jog around the courts.
It wasn’t about getting out. Getting free. That wasn’t going to happen. It was about sending a message.
I let my mind go blank, filling with static as I enjoyed what could be my last day outside.
—------
The beacon swirled overhead in the common area.
“Inmates to their cells. Lights out.” The intercom buzzed.
There were over fifty men in cell block B, and not a single one of us moved.
The voice on the intercom repeated himself angrily as guards began to shuffle in closer. Nods passed like dominoes from one inmate to the next. We were ready.
“Get to your cell inmate.” a guard growled as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders.
I threw an elbow behind me into his groin, he howled in pain as he hit the floor. The other inmates sprung to their feet and flew off from their leaning places to join in the brawl.
Fists, feet and batons flew wildly across the cell block as we engaged in war with the uniformed officers.
I grappled with one until I was able to submit him in a choke until he went limp in my arms.
I stomped another in the face, spilling blood and brains on the concrete floor.
It had looked like we were winning until they sent the special response team in. We formed a line, many of us battered and bloody, in front of the row of riot shields.
We waited for their charge for what felt like an eternity.
But suddenly they backed out from where they’d come and slid the cell block doors closed.
What the hell…
The red beacon swirled once again overhead as a clicking sounded out behind us.
The rear entrance that the lab coats had always used swung open. I spun around to see…
“Mary, mother of God.” I gasped.
It was Pete…
But there was something horribly wrong with him.
His skin clung loosely to his body and had a terrible jaundice looking hue to it. His eyes almost seemed to glow and his hands… they were impossibly large like contorted branches.
I held my hand up to my mouth in disbelief.
A scientist stepped out from behind him.
“As you can see, we have a few kinks left to iron out, but we are making great progress. Would you all care to see what he can do?” He looked into each of our eyes inquisitively.
“If you don’t, head back to your cells now. You have ten seconds and then I shall release him.”
It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. But a violent and hungry energy filled the room, emanating from what used to be my friend.
Suddenly, over half the remaining inmates bolted for their cells out of fear. Not that I could blame them, my knees wobbled and threatened to buckle just at the sight of him.
But I stood my ground, as did a handful of others.
“Very well then. Specimen 3-1-0, engage.”
A growl reverberated through the cell block.
“Everyone rush him at once! It’s our only shot.” I hollered.
And we did, but it didn’t matter. It happened so fast. It was over before I could even comprehend it.
He moved like an animal, picking each of us apart almost in unison.
I lay on my back, unable to feel my legs as I watched Jerry be disemboweled. He was trying to shove his intestines back inside the tear in his abdomen before the creature came back to finish him off.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray.
As Pete stood over me, with dead eyes, I knew there was no God.
He didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
2023.06.07 13:44 Pinto_RED_Window13 Son Goku (dbz) Vs the scarlet king (scp foundation)
[INT. A DARK AND BARREN PLANET - NIGHT]
[SON GOKU, a muscular man with spiky black hair and an orange gi, is standing in front of a large portal that is glowing red. He looks determined and confident.]
GOKU: So this is where he's hiding. The Scarlet King. The one who's been causing trouble across the multiverse. Well, I'm not afraid of him. I'm here to challenge him to a fair fight. And I won't hold back!
[He powers up, causing his hair to turn golden and his aura to flare up.]
GOKU: Come on out, Scarlet King! Show yourself!
[The portal rumbles and a loud roar echoes from within. A huge figure emerges from the portal, towering over Goku. It is THE SCARLET KING, a monstrous being with red skin, horns, claws, wings and a crown of fire. He has a sinister grin and glowing eyes.]
SCARLET KING: Hahahaha! So you are the one who dares to disturb my slumber. The one they call Son Goku. The Saiyan.
GOKU: That's right. And you are the one who's been destroying worlds and killing innocent people. The one they call the Scarlet King. The evil god.
SCARLET KING: You flatter me, mortal. But you are also foolish. Do you really think you can stand against me? I am the lord of all creation. The master of chaos and destruction. The king of kings.
GOKU: I don't care about your titles or your power. All I care about is that you're a bad guy. And I'm here to stop you.
SCARLET KING: Stop me? Hahahaha! You make me laugh, Saiyan. You have no idea what you're dealing with. I am beyond your comprehension. Beyond your reality. Beyond your imagination.
GOKU: Enough talk. Let's fight!
[He charges at the Scarlet King, throwing a punch at his face.]
SCARLET KING: Fool!
[He swats Goku away with his hand, sending him flying across the planet.]
GOKU: Ugh!
[He crashes into a mountain, creating a huge crater.]
SCARLET KING: Is that all you've got? Pathetic.
[He flies towards Goku, ready to finish him off.]
GOKU: No...I'm not done yet.
[He gets up from the rubble, wiping the blood from his mouth.]
GOKU: I still have more power to unleash.
[He powers up again, causing his hair to turn blue and his aura to become more intense.]
GOKU: This is Super Saiyan Blue!
SCARLET KING: Super Saiyan what?
GOKU: It's a form that combines the power of Super Saiyan with the power of God.
SCARLET KING: God? Hahahaha! Don't make me laugh, Saiyan. You are no god. You are nothing but an insect.
GOKU: We'll see about that.
[He dashes at the Scarlet King again, this time faster and stronger.]
SCARLET KING: Impudent worm!
[He tries to hit Goku again, but Goku dodges his attack and lands a kick on his chest.]
SCARLET KING: Gah!
[He staggers back, feeling the impact of Goku's blow.]
GOKU: How do you like that?
SCARLET KING: You...you actually hurt me.
GOKU: That's right. And I'm not done yet.
[He unleashes a barrage of punches and kicks on the Scarlet King, who tries to block and counter them but fails to keep up with Goku's speed and skill.]
SCARLET KING: Stop it! Stop it!
GOKU: No way! This is for all the people you've killed!
[He finishes his combo with a powerful uppercut that sends the Scarlet King flying into the air.]
GOKU: Now take this!
[He fires a large blue energy blast from his hands at the Scarlet King.]
GOKU: Kamehameha!
SCARLET KING: Noooooo!
[The blast hits the Scarlet King, engulfing him in a huge explosion.]
GOKU: Did I get him?
[He looks at the smoke cloud in the sky, hoping to see the Scarlet King's body falling down.]
SCARLET KING: Hahahaha!
[The smoke clears and reveals the Scarlet King still alive and unharmed.]
SCARLET KING: You fool! Did you really think that would work?
GOKU: What? How?
SCARLET KING: You are so naive, Saiyan. You think you can defeat me with your puny attacks? You think you can match me with your false godhood? You think you can challenge me with your mortal limits? You are nothing but a joke to me. A joke that I will end right now.
[He raises his hand and gathers a massive amount of red energy in his palm.]
SCARLET KING: Behold, Saiyan. Behold the true power of the Scarlet King. Behold the power that will destroy you and everything you hold dear. Behold...the Scarlet Wave!
[He fires a gigantic red beam of energy from his hand at Goku.]
GOKU: Oh no!
[He tries to dodge the beam, but it is too fast and too wide for him to avoid.]
GOKU: Aaaahhh!
[The beam hits Goku, engulfing him in a huge explosion.]
SCARLET KING: Hahahaha! Die, Saiyan! Die!
[The explosion covers the entire planet, destroying everything in its path.]
SCARLET KING: And now, for the rest of this pathetic universe.
[He flies back to the portal, ready to conquer other worlds.]
SCARLET KING: Nothing can stop me now. I am the Scarlet King. I am the king of all.
[He enters the portal and disappears.]
[THE END]
submitted by Pinto_RED_Window13 to copypasta [link] [comments]
[SON GOKU, a muscular man with spiky black hair and an orange gi, is standing in front of a large portal that is glowing red. He looks determined and confident.]
GOKU: So this is where he's hiding. The Scarlet King. The one who's been causing trouble across the multiverse. Well, I'm not afraid of him. I'm here to challenge him to a fair fight. And I won't hold back!
[He powers up, causing his hair to turn golden and his aura to flare up.]
GOKU: Come on out, Scarlet King! Show yourself!
[The portal rumbles and a loud roar echoes from within. A huge figure emerges from the portal, towering over Goku. It is THE SCARLET KING, a monstrous being with red skin, horns, claws, wings and a crown of fire. He has a sinister grin and glowing eyes.]
SCARLET KING: Hahahaha! So you are the one who dares to disturb my slumber. The one they call Son Goku. The Saiyan.
GOKU: That's right. And you are the one who's been destroying worlds and killing innocent people. The one they call the Scarlet King. The evil god.
SCARLET KING: You flatter me, mortal. But you are also foolish. Do you really think you can stand against me? I am the lord of all creation. The master of chaos and destruction. The king of kings.
GOKU: I don't care about your titles or your power. All I care about is that you're a bad guy. And I'm here to stop you.
SCARLET KING: Stop me? Hahahaha! You make me laugh, Saiyan. You have no idea what you're dealing with. I am beyond your comprehension. Beyond your reality. Beyond your imagination.
GOKU: Enough talk. Let's fight!
[He charges at the Scarlet King, throwing a punch at his face.]
SCARLET KING: Fool!
[He swats Goku away with his hand, sending him flying across the planet.]
GOKU: Ugh!
[He crashes into a mountain, creating a huge crater.]
SCARLET KING: Is that all you've got? Pathetic.
[He flies towards Goku, ready to finish him off.]
GOKU: No...I'm not done yet.
[He gets up from the rubble, wiping the blood from his mouth.]
GOKU: I still have more power to unleash.
[He powers up again, causing his hair to turn blue and his aura to become more intense.]
GOKU: This is Super Saiyan Blue!
SCARLET KING: Super Saiyan what?
GOKU: It's a form that combines the power of Super Saiyan with the power of God.
SCARLET KING: God? Hahahaha! Don't make me laugh, Saiyan. You are no god. You are nothing but an insect.
GOKU: We'll see about that.
[He dashes at the Scarlet King again, this time faster and stronger.]
SCARLET KING: Impudent worm!
[He tries to hit Goku again, but Goku dodges his attack and lands a kick on his chest.]
SCARLET KING: Gah!
[He staggers back, feeling the impact of Goku's blow.]
GOKU: How do you like that?
SCARLET KING: You...you actually hurt me.
GOKU: That's right. And I'm not done yet.
[He unleashes a barrage of punches and kicks on the Scarlet King, who tries to block and counter them but fails to keep up with Goku's speed and skill.]
SCARLET KING: Stop it! Stop it!
GOKU: No way! This is for all the people you've killed!
[He finishes his combo with a powerful uppercut that sends the Scarlet King flying into the air.]
GOKU: Now take this!
[He fires a large blue energy blast from his hands at the Scarlet King.]
GOKU: Kamehameha!
SCARLET KING: Noooooo!
[The blast hits the Scarlet King, engulfing him in a huge explosion.]
GOKU: Did I get him?
[He looks at the smoke cloud in the sky, hoping to see the Scarlet King's body falling down.]
SCARLET KING: Hahahaha!
[The smoke clears and reveals the Scarlet King still alive and unharmed.]
SCARLET KING: You fool! Did you really think that would work?
GOKU: What? How?
SCARLET KING: You are so naive, Saiyan. You think you can defeat me with your puny attacks? You think you can match me with your false godhood? You think you can challenge me with your mortal limits? You are nothing but a joke to me. A joke that I will end right now.
[He raises his hand and gathers a massive amount of red energy in his palm.]
SCARLET KING: Behold, Saiyan. Behold the true power of the Scarlet King. Behold the power that will destroy you and everything you hold dear. Behold...the Scarlet Wave!
[He fires a gigantic red beam of energy from his hand at Goku.]
GOKU: Oh no!
[He tries to dodge the beam, but it is too fast and too wide for him to avoid.]
GOKU: Aaaahhh!
[The beam hits Goku, engulfing him in a huge explosion.]
SCARLET KING: Hahahaha! Die, Saiyan! Die!
[The explosion covers the entire planet, destroying everything in its path.]
SCARLET KING: And now, for the rest of this pathetic universe.
[He flies back to the portal, ready to conquer other worlds.]
SCARLET KING: Nothing can stop me now. I am the Scarlet King. I am the king of all.
[He enters the portal and disappears.]
[THE END]
2023.06.07 13:30 Bragior Class Discussion: Apsaras (post-Ultimate Mastery Update)
Discussion Schedule and Navigation
- 06/05 - SSR: Caim (post-5★ Uncap)
- 06/06 - SSR: Adam
- 06/07 - Class: Apsaras (post-Ultimate Mastery Update)
- 06/08 - Weapon: Forbidden Agastia
- 06/09 - Weapon: Esna
Newly released/rebalanced characters will be added to the surveys after two weeks of their introduction or implementation.
Class Discussion: Apsaras
Dance and flow along the currents of the winds as you glide your way to victory.Resources
Unlock Prerequisites
- CP ×2,500
- Cavalryman Distinction ×20
- Superior Lancer trophy — Clear the quest Search for an Heir with a Lancer-type class
Class Details
- Style: Attack
- Specialty: Spear, Axe
Level Bonuses
| Level | Bonus |
|---|---|
| 1 | ATK +1,000 |
| 5 | Double Attack +5% |
| 10 | ATK +1,000 |
| 15 | Triple Attack +5% |
| 20 | Double Attack +5%, Triple Attack +5% |
- Total: ATK +2,000; Double Attack +10%; Triple Attack +10%
- Completion Bonus: Inhibit Overdrive +1% and Double Attack Rate +1%
Master Bonuses
| Level | Bonus | Level | Bonus | Level | Bonus |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | - | 11 | Skill DMG +2% | 21 | Skill DMG +2% |
| 2 | Skill DMG +2% | 12 | Skill DMG Cap +1% | 22 | Skill DMG Cap +1% |
| 3 | Skill DMG Cap +1% | 13 | ATK +400 | 23 | Skill DMG Cap +1% |
| 4 | ATK +400 | 14 | Skill DMG +2% | 24 | Skill DMG +2% |
| 5 | Skill DMG +2% | 15 | Skill DMG Cap +1% | 25 | Skill DMG Cap +1% |
| 6 | Skill DMG Cap +1% | 16 | ATK +400 | 26 | ATK +400 |
| 7 | ATK +400 | 17 | Skill DMG +2% | 27 | Skill DMG +2% |
| 8 | Skill DMG +2% | 18 | Skill DMG Cap +1% | 28 | Skill DMG Cap +1% |
| 9 | Skill DMG Cap +1% | 19 | ATK +400 | 29 | Skill DMG +2% |
| 10 | ATK +400 | 20 | New Support Skill | 30 | Main Skill Upgrade |
- Total: ATK +2,800, Skill DMG +20%, Skill DMG Cap +10%
- New Support Skill: Free-Flowing Style
- Unlocked Class Color Outfits:
- Lancer (Lvl 10)
- Dragoon (Lvl 15)
- Valkyrie (Lvl 20)
- Apsaras (Lvl 30)
Ultimate Mastery Bonuses
- ATK +3,500
- HP +1,500
- Skill DMG Cap +5%
- Skill DMG +12%
- Charge Bar Gain +10%
- Debuff Success Rate +7%
Support Skills
| Name | Obtained | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Swim Like a Bird, Fly Like a Fish | Lvl 1 | Boost to double attack rate when equipping a spear. |
| Amplify normal attack damage by 10% when equipping an axe. | ||
| Crisis Blow | Lvl 1 | Boost to "Resonating Surge" skill's damage. |
| Free-Flowing Style | Mst 20 | Boost to stats based on the number of spears and axes equipped. |
- Swim Like a Bird, Fly Like a Fish:
- Amplify damage does not stack with "Free-Flowing Style" support skill. Only the highest value will apply.
- Free-Flowing Style:
- Gain the following cumulative effects based on the number of spears and axes equipped:
- 20% ATK Up (Unique)
- Guaranteed DA
- 30% Normal Attack DMG Amplified
- 10% DMG Cap Up
- 10% Bonus DMG
- Gain the following cumulative effects based on the number of spears and axes equipped:
Main Skill
- Name: Thunder on the Water
- Skill Type: Damaging (Red)
- Cooldown: 6 turns
| Obtained | Effects | Duration |
|---|---|---|
| Lvl 1 | 3-hit, 100% Elemental damage to a foe (Cap: ~200,000 per hit). | Instant |
| Inflict Break Boosted (Time) to a foe in Break. | ? seconds | |
| Boost to specs based on number of spears and axes equipped (Max: Level 3). | ||
| Mst 30 | Gain additional specs based on number of spears and axed equipped (Max: Level 5). |
- Gain the following cumulative effects based on the number of spears and axes equipped.
- 10% Skill DMG Up (Stackable) (Max: 40%)
- Charge Bar +20%
- Activates twice
- 5% Skill DMG Cap Up (Stackable) (Max: 20%)
- 5% DMG Cap Up (Stackable) (Max: 20%)
EMP Skill 1
- Name: Swan Song
- Skill Type: Buffing (Yellow)
- Cooldown: 9 turns
- EMP Cost: 20
| Effects | Duration |
|---|---|
| All parties gain 10% Charge Bar Gain Up. | 3 turns |
| When Spear is equipped: All parties gain 80% Critical Hit Rate Up (20% DMG). | 3 turns |
| When Axe is equipped: All allies gain Drain (800) and 10% Debuff Success Boosted. | 3 turns |
EMP Skill 2
- Name: Dance of Zeal
- Skill Type: Buffing (Yellow)
- Cooldown: 8 turns
- EMP Cost: 5
| Effects | Duration |
|---|---|
| Gain Devotion. | 3 turns |
| All other allies gain 50% ATK Up and 20% DEF Down. | 3 turns |
- Devotion causes the ally with the highest HP to substitute for the MC. Does not include all-ally attacks.
- DEF Down can be cleared.
EMP Skill 3
- Name: Springwater Robe
- Skill Type: Buffing (Yellow)
- Cooldown: 6 turns
- EMP Cost: 10
| Effects | Duration |
|---|---|
| Gain Mirror Image (2 times). | Until used |
| Gain Springwater Robe. | 3 turns or until used |
- Springwater Robe causes the next skill to activate both Spear and Axe effects.
- The following skills are affected by Springwater Robe:
- Drive It In I/II (Lancer, Dragoon, and Valkyrie main skill)
- Double Trouble I/II/III
- Swan Song
- Crestfallen Flower
EMP Skill 4
- Name: Crestfallen Flower
- Skill Type: Buffing (Yellow)
- Cooldown: 6 turns
- EMP Cost: 30
| Effects | Duration |
|---|---|
| Gain 50% Debuff Res. Up. | 3 turns |
| When Spear is equipped: All allies gain 10%-20% Strength. | 3 turns |
| When Axe is equipped: All allies gain 10%-20% Jammed. | 3 turns |
EMP Skill 5
- Name: Lightning Strike
- Skill Type: Buffing (Yellow)
- Cooldown: 6 turns
- EMP Cost: 50
| Effects | Duration |
|---|---|
| Spear-specialty allies gain Guaranteed TA. | 1 turn |
| Axe-specialty allies gain 15% DMG Amplified. | 3 turns |
- Allies with both Spear and Axe specialties gain both effects.
UM Skill 1
- Name: Nyagrodha
- Skill Type: Damaging (Red)
- Cooldown: 8 turns
| Effects | Duration |
|---|---|
| 5-hit, 100% Elemental damage to all foes (Cap: ~68,000 per hit). | Instant |
| Inflict 25% ATK Down and 25% DEF Down on all foes. | 180 seconds |
| Number of hits increase by 1 for each Axe and Spear weapon equipped (Max: 15 hits total). |
UM Skill 2
- Name: Crowning Fluidity
- Skill Type: Buffing (Yellow)
- Cooldown: Cannot be recast
| Effects | Duration |
|---|---|
| Gain Crowning Fluidity. | Indefinite |
- Crowning Fluidity applies 1 Beguiling Dance stack to the caster at the end of the turn (Max: 5 stacks).
- Beguiling Dance supplements damage by 30,000 per stack (Max: 150,000 per instance).
- Beguiling Dance stacks resets upon taking damage.
- Crowning Fluidity and Beguiling Dance cannot be removed.
UM Skill 3
- Name: Showstopper
- Skill Type: Buffing (Yellow)
- Skill Standby: 6 turns
- Cooldown: Cannot be recast
| Effects | Duration |
|---|---|
| Gain Full Hostility and Dodge/Tank-and-Counter (5 hits). | 1 turn |
| When Spear is equipped: Also gain 50% Sharp ATK Up (Assassin). | 1 turn |
| When Axe is equipped: Also gain Full-Force Counter. | 1 turn |
Helpful topics to discuss
- What role does this class fill and what content does it do particularly well in?
- Which elements are best suited to using this class?
- What MH weapons are particularly suited to this class?
- Is the CCW worth using for this class?
- How does this class compare to other classes, for early-, middle-, and late-game players?
- What general subskill would you recommend using with this class?
- Which EMP nodes would you prioritize for the class?
- Which EMP skill are worth taking?
- How does this class fare in full auto?
- How does this class fare in battle system 2.0?
- How do you personally use this class, if at all?
- How was the class improved with Mastery Bonuses?
- How was the class improved with Ultimate Mastery Bonuses?
2023.06.07 13:25 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.07 13:25 Blubbpaule WiP Cheat-Sheet containing base damage stats of every enemy in Tears of the Kingdom.
Link to the sheet: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/154XcoSw28d4V-Y9NsAJAl5BDqHKIYnJaC9qDuLqp564/edit?usp=sharing
I am currently setting up (requires sooo much testing) a sheet containing the base and special attack damage of every enemy or effect (like lightning).
Some stats are the same as botw, but i already noticed why this game feels harder: Bokoblins in earlier stages (red and blue) hit THREE TIMES as hard.
I will gradually add more and more info as i test, so take care that it's very WiP right now.
The first observation i made was, that the special attacks of each enemy (Bokoblins horn attack) is twice their base damage. And some hit really hard.
This list obviously has spoilers for damage values as well as names.
submitted by Blubbpaule to tearsofthekingdom [link] [comments]
I am currently setting up (requires sooo much testing) a sheet containing the base and special attack damage of every enemy or effect (like lightning).
Some stats are the same as botw, but i already noticed why this game feels harder: Bokoblins in earlier stages (red and blue) hit THREE TIMES as hard.
I will gradually add more and more info as i test, so take care that it's very WiP right now.
The first observation i made was, that the special attacks of each enemy (Bokoblins horn attack) is twice their base damage. And some hit really hard.
This list obviously has spoilers for damage values as well as names.
2023.06.07 13:08 Pinto_RED_Window13 Archdemon (tf2 freakshow concepts) Vs Naruto
Script for Archdemon vs Naruto
[Scene: A barren wasteland. Archdemon is standing on a hill, surrounded by flames. He is holding a staff with a skull on top. Naruto is running towards him, wearing his orange jumpsuit and headband.]Naruto: Hey, you! You're the one who's been destroying everything, right? Well, you're going down!
Archdemon: [laughs] Foolish mortal. Do you really think you can stop me? I am the Archdemon, the god of destruction. You are nothing but an insect to me.
Naruto: Don't underestimate me! I'm Naruto Uzumaki, the future Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village! And I have the power of the Nine-Tailed Fox inside me!
Archdemon: The Nine-Tailed Fox? Ha! That pathetic creature is no match for me. I have devoured countless worlds and dimensions. Your chakra is like a drop in the ocean compared to mine.
Naruto: We'll see about that! Shadow Clone Jutsu!
[Naruto creates hundreds of clones of himself, who charge at Archdemon from all directions.]
Archdemon: How annoying. Begone!
[Archdemon swings his staff and unleashes a wave of dark energy that vaporizes all the clones.]
Naruto: What?! He took out all my clones in one hit!
Archdemon: Is that all you've got? You disappoint me. I expected more from the so-called hero of this world.
Naruto: Don't mock me! Rasengan!
[Naruto forms a ball of blue chakra in his hand and leaps at Archdemon.]
Archdemon: Hmph. A puny attack.
[Archdemon catches Naruto's hand and crushes the Rasengan.]
Naruto: Aaargh!
Archdemon: You are weak. You are foolish. You are unworthy of my attention.
[Archdemon throws Naruto to the ground and raises his staff to finish him off.]
Archdemon: Die.
Naruto: No...I can't...give up...
[Naruto's eyes turn red and his body is covered with orange fur. He grows nine tails and roars.]
Naruto: RAAAAAAHHH!
Archdemon: What? The Nine-Tailed Fox?
Naruto: You made me angry. Now you'll pay!
[Naruto lunges at Archdemon with his claws and fangs.]
Archdemon: Interesting. You have some fight left in you.
[Archdemon blocks Naruto's attacks with his staff and counters with his own.]
Naruto: Take this! And this! And this!
Archdemon: Not bad. But not good enough.
[The two exchange blows for several minutes, creating shockwaves and craters with their impacts.]
Naruto: You're tough. But I'm tougher!
[Naruto gathers chakra in his mouth and fires a blast of energy at Archdemon.]
Naruto: Tailed Beast Bomb!
Archdemon: Impressive. But futile.
[Archdemon absorbs the blast with his staff and fires it back at Naruto.]
Archdemon: Dark Matter Blast!
Naruto: What?!
[Naruto tries to dodge, but the blast hits him and sends him flying.]
Naruto: Ugh...
Archdemon: It's over. You have lost.
[Archdemon walks towards Naruto, who is lying on the ground, wounded and exhausted.]
Archdemon: Any last words?
Naruto: Yeah...I have one...
[Naruto smiles and gives a thumbs up.]
Naruto: Believe it!
Archdemon: Believe it? Believe what?
Naruto: Believe...in my friends!
[Archdemon looks confused. Suddenly, he hears a voice behind him.]
Sasuke: Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!
[Sasuke, Naruto's rival and friend, appears and shoots a large fireball at Archdemon.]
Archdemon: What?!
[Archdemon turns around and tries to block the fireball with his staff, but it is too late. The fireball hits him and engulfs him in flames.]
Archdemon: Aaargh!
Naruto: Sasuke!
Sasuke: Naruto!
[Sasuke runs to Naruto and helps him up.]
Sasuke: Are you okay?
Naruto: Yeah...thanks to you.
Sasuke: Don't mention it. You're my friend, after all.
Naruto: Heh...you're not so bad yourself.
[They smile at each other. Archdemon emerges from the flames, badly burned and furious.]
Archdemon: You...you dare interfere with my plans?
Sasuke: Plans? What plans?
Archdemon: I was going to destroy this world and all the others. I was going to bring chaos and darkness to the entire multiverse.
Sasuke: Why? What's the point of that?
Archdemon: The point? The point is...I am the Archdemon! The god of destruction! It is my nature! It is my destiny!
Sasuke: That's insane. You're insane.
Archdemon: Silence! You are nothing but insects to me. You cannot comprehend my greatness. You cannot stop me. No one can.
[Archdemon raises his staff and unleashes a massive blast of dark energy that covers the sky.]
Archdemon: Behold! The end of all things!
Naruto: No way! We can't let him do this!
Sasuke: I know. We have to stop him.
Naruto: But how? He's too powerful.
Sasuke: There's only one way. We have to combine our powers.
Naruto: Combine our powers?
Sasuke: Yes. Remember what we did against Madara?
Naruto: Oh yeah. That was awesome.
Sasuke: Let's do it again.
Naruto: Okay. Let's do it.
[Sasuke activates his Sharingan, a special eye technique that grants him enhanced perception and abilities. Naruto activates his Tailed Beast Mode, a transformation that grants him the power of the Nine-Tailed Fox.]
Sasuke: Ready?
Naruto: Ready.
[Sasuke forms a ball of black chakra in his hand and Naruto forms a ball of blue chakra in his hand. They bring their hands together and fuse their chakras into a single ball of purple chakra.]
Sasuke and Naruto: Rasen-Shuriken!
[They throw the ball of purple chakra at Archdemon, who is still charging his blast.]
Archdemon: What? What is this?
[The ball of purple chakra hits Archdemon and creates a huge explosion that engulfs him and his blast.]
Archdemon: Noooooo!
[The explosion fades away, leaving nothing but dust and smoke.]
Naruto: Did we do it?
Sasuke: I think so.
[They high-five each other.]
Naruto and Sasuke: Yeah!
[The end]
2023.06.07 12:57 Pinto_RED_Window13 Archdemon (TF2 FREAKSHOW CONCEPT WIKIA) Vs deku (MHA)
Scene 1: The Arrival
- The scene is set in a ruined city, with buildings on fire and rubble everywhere. The sky is dark and stormy, and lightning flashes occasionally.
- Izuku Midoriya is running through the streets, dodging debris and explosions. He is wearing his hero costume and carrying a backpack with some supplies. He looks determined but worried.
- He reaches a large plaza, where he sees a huge portal in the sky, with red energy swirling around it. He also sees a figure standing in front of the portal, surrounded by flames. It is Archdemon, who looks like a Teamless Medic with a Planeswalker Helm, a customised Quadwrangler, a coloured Practitioner's Processing Mask, a Pyro-class Blazing Bull, and demonic wings. He is holding a staff with a skull on top of it.
- Izuku stops and stares at Archdemon in shock and fear. He recognizes him from the reports he heard from other heroes and civilians. He knows that he is the one who caused the apocalypse by opening the portal to his dimension and unleashing his army of hellish creatures.
- Archdemon notices Izuku and turns to face him. He smiles wickedly and speaks in a deep and distorted voice.
Izuku: You... You're the Archdemon! The god of destruction! The one who wants to end all life!
Archdemon: That's right, boy. And you are?
Izuku: I'm Izuku Midoriya! And I'm here to stop you!
Archdemon: Hahahaha! Stop me? You? Don't make me laugh. You're nothing but a speck of dust to me. A mere insect that I can crush with my finger.
Izuku: Don't underestimate me! I have the power of One For All! The power that was passed down by the greatest hero of all time, All Might!
Archdemon: One For All? All Might? I've heard of them. They were among the first to fall before my might. Their power was nothing compared to mine.
Izuku: That's not true! They fought bravely and valiantly! They gave their lives to protect this world from you!
Archdemon: And what did that accomplish? Nothing. Look around you, boy. This world is doomed. Nothing can stop me from destroying it. Not you, not your friends, not your heroes. No one.
Izuku: I don't believe that! There's always hope! There's always a way! As long as I have this power, I will never give up!
Archdemon: How naive. How foolish. How... amusing. Very well then. If you want to challenge me, go ahead. But don't expect any mercy from me. I will show you the true meaning of despair.
Izuku: Bring it on!
- Izuku charges at Archdemon with his fist raised, ready to punch him with One For All.
- Archdemon raises his staff and fires a blast of red energy at Izuku.
- The scene cuts to black as the blast hits Izuku.
Scene 2: The Battle
- The scene resumes with Izuku flying back from the blast, crashing into a building wall. He groans in pain and falls to the ground.
- Archdemon walks towards him slowly, laughing maniacally.
Izuku: Ugh... No... It's not over yet...
Archdemon: Oh, but it is. You have no chance against me. You're just wasting your time and energy.
Izuku: No... I can do this... I can beat you...
Archdemon: You can't beat me. You can't even touch me.
Izuku: Yes I can!
- Izuku gets up and activates Full Cowl, covering his body with green sparks of One For All.
- He dashes at Archdemon again, faster than before.
- Archdemon swings his staff at Izuku, but Izuku dodges it and lands a punch on Archdemon's face.
- Archdemon staggers back slightly, surprised by Izuku's speed and strength.
- Izuku follows up with another punch, then another, then another, hitting Archdemon repeatedly with One For All.
- Archdemon blocks some of the punches, but still takes some damage. He grunts and growls in anger.
Izuku: Take this! And this! And this!
Archdemon: Enough!
- Archdemon grabs Izuku's arm and squeezes it hard, making Izuku scream in pain.
- He then throws Izuku into the air and fires another blast of red energy at him.
- Izuku tries to dodge, but the blast is too fast and hits him in the chest, sending him flying back again.
- Izuku crashes into another building, creating a large hole in the wall. He falls to the ground, coughing up blood. He is badly injured and burned.
- Archdemon flies towards him, using his wings. He lands near Izuku and looks down at him with contempt.
Izuku: Ugh... No... I'm not...
Archdemon: Yes you are. You're a failure. A failure as a hero. A failure as a human. A failure as a living being.
Izuku: No... I'm not...
Archdemon: Yes you are. And you know what I do to failures? I erase them. I erase them from existence. And that's exactly what I'm going to do to you.
Izuku: No... Please... Don't...
Archdemon: Goodbye, Izuku Midoriya. It was nice knowing you. Not really.
- Archdemon raises his staff and prepares to deliver the final blow to Izuku.
- Izuku closes his eyes and braces for the impact.
Scene 3: The End
- The scene cuts to black as Archdemon's staff comes down on Izuku.
- A loud thud is heard, followed by silence.
- The scene fades in with Archdemon standing over Izuku's lifeless body, holding his staff with blood on it.
- He smiles triumphantly and laughs evilly.
- He looks up at the portal and raises his staff.
- He points his staff at the portal and fires a blast of red energy at it, making it bigger and more unstable.
- More red energy flows out of the portal, along with more hellish creatures that fly out and swarm the city.
- Archdemon laughs louder and louder as he watches the chaos unfold.
- The scene zooms out, showing the city being overrun by fire and monsters.
- The scene fades to black as Archdemon's laughter echoes.
2023.06.07 12:35 According_Sun3182 Well that was fun.
 | I’ve been doing a bunch of no-heat Dark Thirst runs to finish all the Resource Director upgrades. For this one I used Aspect of Rama with Thunder Flourish, Relentless Volley, and Double Strike, but I got Ocean’s Bounty early in Tartarus and then kept running into Chaos Gates and getting offered eclipse boons. submitted by According_Sun3182 to HadesTheGame [link] [comments] The night reward in the final chamber after defeating [REDACTED] was +1438. |
2023.06.07 12:34 Pinto_RED_Window13 Archangel (TF2 freakshow) Vs muzan (demon slayer)
[Scene: A dark and deserted street in a dystopian city. Muzan, in his male form, is walking casually, looking for his next victim. He senses a human presence nearby and smiles wickedly.]
Muzan: (voice-over) Another foolish human wandering in the night. They make such easy prey for me. I wonder if this one will scream as loud as the others.
[He turns a corner and sees Archangel, in his exorcist guise, standing in front of him. Archangel is wearing a trench coat and a hat, and holding a katana in his hand. He stares at Muzan with a cold and determined expression.]
Archangel: (voice-over) There he is. The Demon King. The source of all evil in this world. I’ve been tracking him for a long time, waiting for the right moment to strike. Tonight, I will end his reign of terror once and for all.
[They lock eyes and recognize each other as enemies.]
Muzan: (surprised) You… You’re not human.
Archangel: (calmly) Neither are you.
Muzan: (angrily) Who are you? What do you want from me?
Archangel: (firmly) I am Archangel, the guardian of this world. And I want your head.
Muzan: (laughs) Archangel? What a ridiculous name. You think you can kill me? The first and the strongest of all demons? You must be joking.
Archangel: (shakes his head) No jokes. Only justice.
[He draws his katana and points it at Muzan.]
Archangel: Prepare to die, Demon King.
Muzan: (snarls) How dare you challenge me? You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ll show you the true power of a demon.
[He extends his claws and lunges at Archangel.]
Muzan: Die!
[They clash in a fierce and fast-paced battle. Archangel swings his katana with precision and skill, while Muzan dodges and counters with his claws and teeth. They exchange blows and cuts, drawing blood from each other.]
Muzan: (grunts) You’re faster than I expected. But not fast enough.
[He slashes Archangel’s chest, making him stagger back.]
Archangel: (groans) You’re stronger than I expected. But not strong enough.
[He stabs Muzan’s shoulder, making him scream in pain.]
Muzan: (roars) How can you hurt me? I’m immortal!
Archangel: (smirks) Immortal? Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing but a parasite that feeds on the lives of others.
[He twists his katana, making Muzan bleed more.]
Muzan: (gasps) Stop it! Stop it!
[He pushes Archangel away and retreats.]
Muzan: (panics) This can’t be happening. He’s too strong. He’s not human. He’s something else.
[He looks around and sees a woman walking on the sidewalk.]
Muzan: (thinks) Maybe I can use her as a hostage. Or better yet, as a snack.
[He runs towards the woman and grabs her by the neck.]
Muzan: (grins) Hello there, my dear. Don’t be afraid. I’m just going to take a little bite out of you.
Woman: (screams) Help! Help me!
Archangel: (shouts) Let her go!
[He runs towards Muzan and swings his katana at him.]
Muzan: (laughs) Too late!
[He bites the woman’s neck, making her blood spurt out.]
Woman: (chokes) Aaah!
Archangel: (horrified) No!
[He slashes Muzan’s arm, making him drop the woman.]
Muzan: (curses) Damn you!
Archangel: (picks up the woman) Are you okay?
Woman: (weakly) Thank you… Thank you for saving me…
Archangel: (nods) Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.
[He lays her down gently on the ground and covers her wound with his coat.]
Archangel: (to Muzan) You monster! How could you do that to an innocent person?
Muzan: (shrugs) Innocent? There’s no such thing as innocent in this world. Everyone is guilty of something. And everyone is food for me.
Archangel: (disgusted) You’re sick. You have no remorse, no compassion, no humanity.
Muzan: (proudly) Of course not. I’m a demon. And I’m proud of it.
Archangel: (angrily) Then you deserve to die.
[He stands up and faces Muzan.]
Archangel: This ends now.
Muzan: (smirks) Bring it on.
[They resume their battle, with more intensity and ferocity than before. Archangel unleashes his lightning attacks, while Muzan uses his blood demon art. They create explosions and shockwaves, destroying the surroundings and attracting attention.]
Crowd: (shocked) What’s going on? Is that a firework show? No, it’s a fight! A fight between a man and a monster!
[They watch in awe and fear as the two combatants fight to the death.]
Muzan: (growls) You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. But you can’t win against me. I’m the Demon King. I’m invincible.
Archangel: (snorts) Invincible? Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing but a coward. A coward who hides from the sun.
Muzan: (flinches) What did you say?
Archangel: (smiles) You heard me. You’re afraid of the sun. The sun that gives life to this world. The sun that you can never touch.
Muzan: (shakes his head) No… No… That’s not true…
Archangel: (points at the sky) Look. The sun is rising. It’s a new day. A new day without you.
[He sees the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon.]
Muzan: (screams) No! No! No!
[He feels his skin burning and his body weakening.]
Muzan: (pleads) Please… Please… Spare me… Don’t kill me…
Archangel: (shakes his head) No mercy. No pity. No forgiveness.
[He raises his katana and delivers the final blow, decapitating Muzan.]
Muzan: (gurgles) Aaah!
[His head falls to the ground, along with his body, which disintegrates into dust.]
Archangel: (breathes heavily) It’s over. It’s finally over.
[He lowers his katana and looks at the rising sun.]
Archangel: (voice-over) I did it. I killed the Demon King. I avenged all those who died by his hands. I restored the balance of this world. I fulfilled my duty as Archangel.
[He smiles and closes his eyes.]
Archangel: (voice-over) Now, I can rest.
[He falls to his knees and collapses, succumbing to his wounds.]
Crowd: (stunned) He did it… He killed the monster… He saved us all…
[They gather around him and pay their respects.]
Crowd: (murmurs) Thank you… Thank you… Thank you…
[The sun shines brightly, illuminating the scene.]
submitted by Pinto_RED_Window13 to copypasta [link] [comments]
Muzan: (voice-over) Another foolish human wandering in the night. They make such easy prey for me. I wonder if this one will scream as loud as the others.
[He turns a corner and sees Archangel, in his exorcist guise, standing in front of him. Archangel is wearing a trench coat and a hat, and holding a katana in his hand. He stares at Muzan with a cold and determined expression.]
Archangel: (voice-over) There he is. The Demon King. The source of all evil in this world. I’ve been tracking him for a long time, waiting for the right moment to strike. Tonight, I will end his reign of terror once and for all.
[They lock eyes and recognize each other as enemies.]
Muzan: (surprised) You… You’re not human.
Archangel: (calmly) Neither are you.
Muzan: (angrily) Who are you? What do you want from me?
Archangel: (firmly) I am Archangel, the guardian of this world. And I want your head.
Muzan: (laughs) Archangel? What a ridiculous name. You think you can kill me? The first and the strongest of all demons? You must be joking.
Archangel: (shakes his head) No jokes. Only justice.
[He draws his katana and points it at Muzan.]
Archangel: Prepare to die, Demon King.
Muzan: (snarls) How dare you challenge me? You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ll show you the true power of a demon.
[He extends his claws and lunges at Archangel.]
Muzan: Die!
[They clash in a fierce and fast-paced battle. Archangel swings his katana with precision and skill, while Muzan dodges and counters with his claws and teeth. They exchange blows and cuts, drawing blood from each other.]
Muzan: (grunts) You’re faster than I expected. But not fast enough.
[He slashes Archangel’s chest, making him stagger back.]
Archangel: (groans) You’re stronger than I expected. But not strong enough.
[He stabs Muzan’s shoulder, making him scream in pain.]
Muzan: (roars) How can you hurt me? I’m immortal!
Archangel: (smirks) Immortal? Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing but a parasite that feeds on the lives of others.
[He twists his katana, making Muzan bleed more.]
Muzan: (gasps) Stop it! Stop it!
[He pushes Archangel away and retreats.]
Muzan: (panics) This can’t be happening. He’s too strong. He’s not human. He’s something else.
[He looks around and sees a woman walking on the sidewalk.]
Muzan: (thinks) Maybe I can use her as a hostage. Or better yet, as a snack.
[He runs towards the woman and grabs her by the neck.]
Muzan: (grins) Hello there, my dear. Don’t be afraid. I’m just going to take a little bite out of you.
Woman: (screams) Help! Help me!
Archangel: (shouts) Let her go!
[He runs towards Muzan and swings his katana at him.]
Muzan: (laughs) Too late!
[He bites the woman’s neck, making her blood spurt out.]
Woman: (chokes) Aaah!
Archangel: (horrified) No!
[He slashes Muzan’s arm, making him drop the woman.]
Muzan: (curses) Damn you!
Archangel: (picks up the woman) Are you okay?
Woman: (weakly) Thank you… Thank you for saving me…
Archangel: (nods) Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.
[He lays her down gently on the ground and covers her wound with his coat.]
Archangel: (to Muzan) You monster! How could you do that to an innocent person?
Muzan: (shrugs) Innocent? There’s no such thing as innocent in this world. Everyone is guilty of something. And everyone is food for me.
Archangel: (disgusted) You’re sick. You have no remorse, no compassion, no humanity.
Muzan: (proudly) Of course not. I’m a demon. And I’m proud of it.
Archangel: (angrily) Then you deserve to die.
[He stands up and faces Muzan.]
Archangel: This ends now.
Muzan: (smirks) Bring it on.
[They resume their battle, with more intensity and ferocity than before. Archangel unleashes his lightning attacks, while Muzan uses his blood demon art. They create explosions and shockwaves, destroying the surroundings and attracting attention.]
Crowd: (shocked) What’s going on? Is that a firework show? No, it’s a fight! A fight between a man and a monster!
[They watch in awe and fear as the two combatants fight to the death.]
Muzan: (growls) You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. But you can’t win against me. I’m the Demon King. I’m invincible.
Archangel: (snorts) Invincible? Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing but a coward. A coward who hides from the sun.
Muzan: (flinches) What did you say?
Archangel: (smiles) You heard me. You’re afraid of the sun. The sun that gives life to this world. The sun that you can never touch.
Muzan: (shakes his head) No… No… That’s not true…
Archangel: (points at the sky) Look. The sun is rising. It’s a new day. A new day without you.
[He sees the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon.]
Muzan: (screams) No! No! No!
[He feels his skin burning and his body weakening.]
Muzan: (pleads) Please… Please… Spare me… Don’t kill me…
Archangel: (shakes his head) No mercy. No pity. No forgiveness.
[He raises his katana and delivers the final blow, decapitating Muzan.]
Muzan: (gurgles) Aaah!
[His head falls to the ground, along with his body, which disintegrates into dust.]
Archangel: (breathes heavily) It’s over. It’s finally over.
[He lowers his katana and looks at the rising sun.]
Archangel: (voice-over) I did it. I killed the Demon King. I avenged all those who died by his hands. I restored the balance of this world. I fulfilled my duty as Archangel.
[He smiles and closes his eyes.]
Archangel: (voice-over) Now, I can rest.
[He falls to his knees and collapses, succumbing to his wounds.]
Crowd: (stunned) He did it… He killed the monster… He saved us all…
[They gather around him and pay their respects.]
Crowd: (murmurs) Thank you… Thank you… Thank you…
[The sun shines brightly, illuminating the scene.]
2023.06.07 11:55 OGKnightsky This is my 900rr project
 | Street FighteRocket hybrid build. All the mechanical stuff has been repaired/replaced at this point and I'm just waiting on some stuff to come in the mail I ordered but soon sexy will be back. Thanks for checking out the project! Both wheels will be red, a red fairing bolt kit will be in soon, the gas tank will be black/red/white like the new seats, the front fender will be black and the RR will be red and the Honda Racing will be white, a new more modern clusters with some illumination and digital gauges, some new hand controls to replace the old Frankenstein'd ones on there now, another good amount of time will go into finalizing the wiring harness, also need motor mount bolt on the left side top (ordered), and I am going to be checking that the cam tolerances are good and probly refresh the top of the motor and check the cam tensioner as well. I am waiting until I see all the cosmetic changes applied to the bike before I decide on painting the frame as well, considered polishing the frame instead and making her really shine. Still up in the air on that lol. Thanks again for checking out the project! Will post regular updates to thus project. submitted by OGKnightsky to CBR900rr [link] [comments] |
2023.06.07 11:41 EducationalSky8620 The Universal Way of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva- A Public Domain Translation of Chapter 25 of the Lotus Sutra
 | submitted by EducationalSky8620 to Buddhism [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/zvzzb14mgk4b1.png?width=602&format=png&auto=webp&s=78d3b2e3cabaf81554fe7ca27b7e8e50729713aa The Universal Way of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva The Bodhisattva of Boundless Will arose from his seat, bared his right shoulder, turned towards the Buddha with joined palms and asked: “World Honored One, we yearn to know why the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara, He Who Hears and Heeds the Sounds of the World, is titled thus?” The Buddha replied to Boundless Will: “Virtuous Son! If a multitude of distressed sentient beings, ensnared in myriad sorrows, cry out with one heart the name of Avalokitesvara, the Bodhisattva will heed their cries and release them from suffering. If those who uphold Avalokitesvara’s name were thrown into a raging inferno, they would, by the astonishing power of the Bodhisattva, be immune from the flames. And if swept away by turbulent tides, they would reach the shallows. Likewise, whenever the many who cross the oceans in search of a fortune in gold, silver, red coral, pearls and precious stones find baneful winds forcing them into perilous or haunted waters, then the whole vessel may be steered to safety if just one among them chants the name of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva. For these reasons, he is honored as He Who Hears and Heeds the Sounds of the World.” “Furthermore, if soon to be victims of violence cry for Avalokitesvara, the attacking blades shall break and leave them uninjured. Should a mighty host of Yakshas and Rakshasas —vast enough to cover the universe— march forth to torment others, then these fearsome ghosts, upon encountering someone who holds the name of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, would be unable to even gaze at them with evil eyes, let alone do any harm. And all who are chained and fettered, whether guilty or not, will be freed and their restraints shattered upon invoking the name of Avalokitesvara. Moreover, say a merchant caravan laden with wealth and goods is about to pass through a perilous path surrounded by hoards of marauders—men with hearts hardened by hatred and grievances. If at that time one of the merchants addressed his peers: ‘My good fellows, be not afraid, for let us all chant with one heart the name of Avalokitesvara, the one who bestows fearlessness, and be thus freed from these marauders,’ then the merchants, upon chanting ‘Homage to Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva,’ will be released from all danger and be able to see their goods to safety.” “Boundless Will, the divine powers of Avalokitesvara Mahabodhisattva are ever so glorious. If beings stricken with lust or malice or ignorance often recall the Bodhisattva and cherish his name, they will see their vices recede. Boundless Will, Avalokitesvara possesses such bountiful and penetrating spiritual powers, thus, all beings must keep his name close to their hearts. If a woman wishing for a son prays and makes offerings to Avalokitesvara, she will have a son replete with fortune and wisdom. If she prays for a daughter, she will be blessed with a virtuous daughter of graceful countenance, honored by all. Boundless Will! Avalokitesvara has such awe inspiring powers, sentient beings who reverently pray to him will have not done so in vain, and shall receive endless good fortune. This is why all must receive and keep the name of Avalokitesvara.” “Boundless Will, say someone faithfully upholds the names of Bodhisattvas as numerous as sand grains in sixty two hundred million Ganges Rivers, and offered bed linens, robes, alms food and medicines to each and every one of them for a lifetime, would not the merit of such a virtuous man or woman be great?” “Certainly, World Honored One,” was the reply from Boundless Will. The Buddha continued: “On the other hand, if someone else who holds only the name of Avalokitesvara bows and makes offerings but once to him, the merit and blessings attained will be equal to that of the previous person, and shall last for all time. Boundless Will! The blessings reaped from keeping the name of Avalokitesvara are unlimited and unending.” The Bodhisattva of Boundless Will then asked the Buddha: “World Honored One, how does Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva tour the Saha world and minister to the masses? What is his way of preaching?” The Buddha replied: “Virtuous Son, if the inhabitants of a land must meet a Buddha to be liberated, Avalokitesvara will appear in the form of a Buddha and minister to them. He will manifest as a Paccekabuddha to those who have such affinities, and as an Arhat to those who seek one. If people are to be liberated by the Great Brahma King, he will appear as one and preach the Dharma, and if an audience requires the form of the Heavenly Father, he will appear as the Heavenly Father. If beings need to be ministered to by a deva from the Heaven of the Unburdened, he will appear as one, and likewise manifest as a deva from the Greater Heaven of the Unburdened when required. If the need to appear as a Celestial Marshal arises, he will do so and preach in that form. If the form of the Celestial King Kubera is sought for, he will oblige. The same is true for the forms of princes, elders, householders, magistrates, brahmins, monks, nuns, lay devotees, consorts, matrons, youthful sons or pure maidens. He will furthermore appear as any god, dragon, yaksha, gandharva, asura, garuda, kinnara, mahoraga, human or nonhuman. And for those destined to be liberated by a Vajra God, he will manifest accordingly and preach the Dharma to them as a Vajra God.” “Boundless Will! These are the meritorious deeds of Avalokitesvara, he graces all the lands in myriad different bodies and liberates all. So fail not to single-mindedly make offerings to Avalokitesvara, for it is this Mahabodhisattva who bestows fearlessness in moments of peril. He is known across the Saha world as the one who dispels all dangers and disasters.” The Bodhisattva of Boundless Will declared: “ World Honored One, I shall now make an offering to Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva.” As he removed his bejeweled Livery Collar—a treasure equal to a thousand gold staters— and presented it before Avalokitesvara, he said, “O Humane One, please receive this pious offering of pearls and jewels.” Being ever humble, the Bodhisattva declined the gift. In response, the Bodhisattva of Boundless Will beseeched again, “Humane One, please accept this offering out of pity for me!” At that moment, the Buddha said to Avalokitesvara: “You must accept this pious offering out of compassion for Boundless Will, the four assemblies, and for the gods, dragons, yakshas, gandharvas, asuras, garudas, kinnaras, mahoragas, humans and nonhumans.” Thus, out of compassion for them all, Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva accepted the gift, halved it, and offered a portion each to the Buddha and the Myriad Jeweled Stupa. “Boundless Will! Such is the supreme spiritual power of Avalokitesvara, he who is ever present across the entire Saha World.” The Bodhisattva of Boundless Will then asked in verse: “O World Honored One of wondrous countenance, I now seek once more the origins of this Heir of Buddha, The One Who Hears And Heeds the Sounds of the World!” And so, The Eminent One of Excellent Features replied To Boundless Will in mellifluous verse: “Hear the Ways of Avalokitesvara, he who manifests in myriad places, Has resolve deeper than oceans, he who has waited upon Countless Buddhas over endless eons, and kept the Great Vows of Purity. I shall now tell of the miracles Granted to those who hear his name, see his person, Those who hold his name close to their hearts, For their many sorrows shall all wither into dust! Say the murderous plot to push you into a fiery pit, Abide in Avalokitesvara and the fiery pit will turn into A delightful pond. Or if you are cast adrift in a mighty Sea, surrounded by hydras, sea-nymphs and devil whales, Abide in Avalokitesvara and the shallows shall appear. If you are pushed off Mount Meru, abide in Avalokitesvara And you will float in the void like the Sun. Suppose you are Pursued by hounds to the edge of the Vajra Cliff, abide in Avalokitesvara and see not one hair harmed. Or if you Are trapped by extortionists, armed and ready to do harm, Abide in Avalokitesvara and see forgiveness and mercy Swell in their hearts. Or if you are ensnared in the laws of Magistrates and sent to the guillotine, abide in Avalokitesvara And the blade shall break into pieces; if chained and fettered, Then the restraints shall be shattered and liberty regained. If you are victim of the dark arts, of curses and vexes, Abide in Avalokitesvara and the malice shall backfire Onto the culprit. And should you meet fearsome Rakshasas, venomous basilisks and other ghosts, abide in Avalokitesvara and none would dare haunt you. Or if You are circled by ferocious beasts, teeth and claws Long and sharp, abide in Avalokitesvara and see them scatter Away in every direction. Cobras and scorpions, toxic vapors And thick smoke, all dissipate when the name Of Avalokitesvara resounds in the air. And so too Ominous clouds, striking lightning, hail and rainstorms— Fading before the powers of Avalokitesvara. The multitude Of sentient beings, ensnared in myriad sorrows, shall find Release in the wondrous wisdom of Avalokitesvara, which Can alleviate all worldly pains and anxieties. Replete with Divine powers, and forever perfecting his wisdom and ease, He manifests in all the lands across the ten quarters. The manifold states of woe, the hells, ghost realms and Beastly domains, the suffering of birth, old age, illness, and Death shall all recede. Heeding purity and truth, heeding the Vast body of wisdom, heeding benevolence and compassion, May all forever admire him with resolve and praise. Radiance pure and unblemished, like sagacious solar rays Dispelling the darkness, able to tame all disasters from wind to Fire, and illume without bounds the whole universe. He is The body of benevolence, with thundering virtue, pouring forth The ambrosia of truth to extinguish the embers of anguish. If you are mired in prosecutions or caught in the throes of Battle, abide in Avalokitesvara and all enmity shall vanish. The wondrous sounds of Avalokitesvara, so pure like Serene waves, peerless in this world, who could afford Not to keep his name? Cherishing each chant with true faith, The pure and sagely Avalokitesvara is your rock in times of Pain and peril. Replete with merit and eyes of benevolence, Blessings boundless like the ocean, worthy of reverence!” In the end, the Bodhisattva Who Shouldered the Earth rose and proclaimed before the Buddha: “O World Honored One, anyone able to hear this sermon on the boundless deeds of Avalokitesvara and his universal works of mercy surely has an abundance of merit.” And as the Buddha spoke this Sutra, the myriad beings in the congregation before Him vowed for Unsurpassed Bodhi. Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva! Homage to the Greatly Compassionate, Greatly Benevolent, Avalokitesvara Mahabodhisattva! Source: https://avalokitesvarashrine.quora.com/The-Universal-Way-of-Avalokitesvara-Bodhisattva-A-Public-Domain-Translation-of-Chapter-25-of-the-Lotus-Sutra |
2023.06.07 11:21 DemosthenesOrNah LF basic feedback on opening scene of my speculative fiction novel (594) - would you keep reading?
Chapter 1
Ethan's heart pounded in his chest as he crouched among the dense foliage, the cool evening air prickling his skin. He had ventured deep into the heart of enemy territory, determined to retrieve the fallen flare, the sole means of inter-Outpost communication and a beacon of hope for the rebels. The surrounding woods crackled with tension, the ever-watchful eyes of the Empire troops scanning for any signs of rebel activity.
Carefully, Ethan maneuvered through the thick underbrush, his senses on high alert. His hands trembled slightly as he reached the spot where the flare had fallen, buried among fallen leaves and twigs. With practiced precision, he retrieved the small device, its vibrant red casing glowing faintly in his grasp.
But as Ethan's heart swelled with a glimmer of triumph, the forest betrayed him. A rustle of leaves and the hum of high-tech scanners filled the air. The Empire troops had closed in, their advanced equipment sweeping the area, seeking out any trace of rebellion.
Panic surged through Ethan's veins as he realized the gravity of the situation, the sounds of his predators encroaching on their prey drawing ever closer. With a swift gestalten flick of his wrist, he activated the flare's emergency escape feature, propelling it into the distance. A moment of relief washed over him, knowing that the luminary beacon would soon be soaring high above– carrying their precious secrets aloft, beyond the Empire's grasp.
Ethan's triumph was short-lived. The sharp crackle of plasma rifles shattered the tranquility of the woods, and his heart sank. The Empire troops had spotted him. Their demands to cease resistance echoed through the trees. A chilling reminder of the danger he faced reverberated all around him as their barrage of words and weaponry seemed to chip away the bark of his shelter with equal efficacy.
He tensed, waiting for a reprieve in the onslaught. Ethan took a brief lull as his cue, pushing himself to his feet– the hooded man bolted through the dense forest, dodging plasma blasts that scorched the ground around him. Branches whipped against his skin, and his lungs burned with each breath as he fought a lethargy that began to weave itself through his body. This internal predator closing the distance seen only as a blur, flickering through the leaves as the internal and external phantoms drew ever closer.
The Empire troops were relentless in their pursuit. Like hounds on the scent they closed in, their footsteps thundering behind him, an air of static and radio chatter permeating the smoldering copse. Their weapons trained on the rebel, ready to strike him down at the slightest move resembling disobedience-- he met their stares, defiance burning like a wildfire as the flames danced across his eyes.
He skidded to a halt, desperation coursing through his veins– he was surrounded by a ring of Empire troops, their plasma rifles bearing on him steadily.
Breathing heavily, Ethan raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, the flare's absence comforting him in a paradox of circumstance. The Empire troops closed in, their expressions cold and unyielding, the empty flare holster bumping softly on his hip as he fell to his knees.
As he watched his insignia-clad pursuers close the final distance, his thoughts flew back to his home as if drifting along the night sky with the deployed flare. He gazed up at the red trail streaking through the sky above, a single neon thread disappearing into the distance.
A needle cleanly piercing the tapestry of night as the tail curved over the distant horizon.
submitted by DemosthenesOrNah to WritersGroup [link] [comments]
Ethan's heart pounded in his chest as he crouched among the dense foliage, the cool evening air prickling his skin. He had ventured deep into the heart of enemy territory, determined to retrieve the fallen flare, the sole means of inter-Outpost communication and a beacon of hope for the rebels. The surrounding woods crackled with tension, the ever-watchful eyes of the Empire troops scanning for any signs of rebel activity.
Carefully, Ethan maneuvered through the thick underbrush, his senses on high alert. His hands trembled slightly as he reached the spot where the flare had fallen, buried among fallen leaves and twigs. With practiced precision, he retrieved the small device, its vibrant red casing glowing faintly in his grasp.
But as Ethan's heart swelled with a glimmer of triumph, the forest betrayed him. A rustle of leaves and the hum of high-tech scanners filled the air. The Empire troops had closed in, their advanced equipment sweeping the area, seeking out any trace of rebellion.
Panic surged through Ethan's veins as he realized the gravity of the situation, the sounds of his predators encroaching on their prey drawing ever closer. With a swift gestalten flick of his wrist, he activated the flare's emergency escape feature, propelling it into the distance. A moment of relief washed over him, knowing that the luminary beacon would soon be soaring high above– carrying their precious secrets aloft, beyond the Empire's grasp.
Ethan's triumph was short-lived. The sharp crackle of plasma rifles shattered the tranquility of the woods, and his heart sank. The Empire troops had spotted him. Their demands to cease resistance echoed through the trees. A chilling reminder of the danger he faced reverberated all around him as their barrage of words and weaponry seemed to chip away the bark of his shelter with equal efficacy.
He tensed, waiting for a reprieve in the onslaught. Ethan took a brief lull as his cue, pushing himself to his feet– the hooded man bolted through the dense forest, dodging plasma blasts that scorched the ground around him. Branches whipped against his skin, and his lungs burned with each breath as he fought a lethargy that began to weave itself through his body. This internal predator closing the distance seen only as a blur, flickering through the leaves as the internal and external phantoms drew ever closer.
The Empire troops were relentless in their pursuit. Like hounds on the scent they closed in, their footsteps thundering behind him, an air of static and radio chatter permeating the smoldering copse. Their weapons trained on the rebel, ready to strike him down at the slightest move resembling disobedience-- he met their stares, defiance burning like a wildfire as the flames danced across his eyes.
He skidded to a halt, desperation coursing through his veins– he was surrounded by a ring of Empire troops, their plasma rifles bearing on him steadily.
Breathing heavily, Ethan raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, the flare's absence comforting him in a paradox of circumstance. The Empire troops closed in, their expressions cold and unyielding, the empty flare holster bumping softly on his hip as he fell to his knees.
As he watched his insignia-clad pursuers close the final distance, his thoughts flew back to his home as if drifting along the night sky with the deployed flare. He gazed up at the red trail streaking through the sky above, a single neon thread disappearing into the distance.
A needle cleanly piercing the tapestry of night as the tail curved over the distant horizon.
2023.06.07 11:21 EducationalSky8620 The Universal Way of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva- (A translation of Chapter 25 of the Lotus Sutra from 2020, says donated into Public Domain)
 | submitted by EducationalSky8620 to Buddhism [link] [comments] Avalokitesvara photo from source, I recognise it as from Taipei Longshan temple The Universal Way of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva Source: https://avalokitesvarashrine.quora.com |
2023.06.07 11:11 Atlagosan Question about state based things
If I remove a rest in piece it sends itself to exile because it’s replacement effect doesn’t end until it’s gone. The removal on the other hand (if it’s a spell) goes to the graveyard. On the other hand if I lightning bolt a 3toughness tarmogoyf and no instant is in the graveyard yet the lightning bolt goes to the graveyard and the tarmogoyf survives because state based actions are not checked until the bolt it already in the graveyard.
I feel like those 2 contradict each other. How does the game realise Rest in piece is gone without state based actions beeing checked? Is putting a card in the graveyard after it resolves it’s own gameaction? I would also expect state based actions beeing checked in between game actions so why does tarmogoyf survive then? I guess I am basically confused about details on what a game action is and if continuous effects can stop mid-game action or not.
submitted by Atlagosan to mtgrules [link] [comments]
I feel like those 2 contradict each other. How does the game realise Rest in piece is gone without state based actions beeing checked? Is putting a card in the graveyard after it resolves it’s own gameaction? I would also expect state based actions beeing checked in between game actions so why does tarmogoyf survive then? I guess I am basically confused about details on what a game action is and if continuous effects can stop mid-game action or not.
2023.06.07 11:11 Pinto_RED_Window13 Redbear with the fazbear's curse (bertbert) Vs commander black (tf2 freakshow)
Scene 1: The Invasion
- The scene is set in a dark and abandoned Fazbear's Pizzeria. Redbear is sitting on a throne made of animatronic parts, surrounded by his loyal minions. He is holding a remote control that can activate the Fazbear's Curse on any animatronic he chooses.
- Suddenly, the lights go out and a loud explosion is heard outside. Redbear looks alarmed and orders his minions to check it out.
- The camera cuts to outside, where Commander Black and his Replicants have arrived in a large airship. They are armed with various weapons and magic spells. Commander Black gives a speech to his troops, telling them that this is their final target before they conquer the TF2 Freak World. He orders them to attack and destroy everything in their way.
- The Replicants charge towards the pizzeria, firing their guns and casting their spells. Redbear's animatronics try to fight back, but they are quickly overwhelmed by the superior numbers and firepower of the invaders.
- Commander Black flies over the battlefield, looking for Redbear. He spots him on the roof of the pizzeria, holding his remote control. He decides to confront him personally and flies towards him.
Scene 2: The Showdown
- Redbear sees Commander Black approaching and prepares to defend himself. He presses a button on his remote control, activating the Fazbear's Curse on several animatronics nearby. They glow red and become possessed by Redbear's will.
- Commander Black lands on the roof and faces Redbear. He taunts him, saying that he is a pathetic excuse for a leader and that his curse is useless against him. He challenges him to a one-on-one fight.
- Redbear accepts the challenge, but says that he will not fight fair. He commands his cursed animatronics to attack Commander Black from behind.
- Commander Black turns around and blasts the animatronics with his dark magic, destroying them in seconds. He then turns back to Redbear and says that he is wasting his time.
- Redbear gets angry and summons more animatronics to help him. He also activates his own enhanced abilities, increasing his strength and speed.
- Commander Black laughs and says that he is not impressed. He also activates his own enhanced abilities, increasing his power and durability.
- The two enemies charge at each other, ready to clash.
Scene 3: The Finale
- The scene shows a series of fast-paced shots of Commander Black and Redbear fighting each other. They exchange punches, kicks, slashes, blasts, and insults. They also dodge, block, parry, and counter each other's moves.
- The fight is evenly matched, with neither side gaining an edge over the other. They both inflict damage on each other, but they also heal quickly from their wounds.
- The fight moves from the roof to the inside of the pizzeria, where they continue to battle among the debris and corpses of their fallen allies.
- The fight reaches its climax when they both unleash their ultimate attacks at the same time. Commander Black fires a massive beam of dark magic from his hands, while Redbear fires a massive beam of red energy from his eyes.
- The two beams collide in mid-air, creating a huge explosion that shakes the entire building.
- The camera cuts to black as the sound of the explosion fades away.
Scene 4: The Aftermath
- The scene shows the aftermath of the fight. The pizzeria is completely destroyed, with only rubble and smoke remaining. There are no signs of life or movement.
- The camera zooms in on a pile of debris, where a hand emerges from underneath. It belongs to Commander Black, who has survived the blast.
- He crawls out of the rubble, coughing and bleeding. He looks around and sees no trace of Redbear or his animatronics. He assumes that he has killed them all.
- He smiles triumphantly and raises his fist in the air. He declares that he has won and that he is the ruler of the TF2 Freak World.
- He then falls unconscious on the ground, exhausted from the fight.
- The camera pans up to the sky, where a red glow can be seen in the distance. It belongs to Redbear's remote control, which has survived the blast as well.
- The remote control beeps and flashes, indicating that it has detected another animatronic nearby. It activates the Fazbear's Curse on it, turning it into Redbear's new host body.
- The camera cuts to the animatronic, which is revealed to be Springtrap. He opens his eyes, which glow red. He smiles wickedly and says that he is not done yet.
- He then laughs maniacally as the screen fades to black.
- The end.
2023.06.07 11:09 sjv891 Somewhere between a genlocke and a hatelocke part 4: Platinum. Death, difficulty spikes and a painful reminder
After completing FR, HG and OR it was on to Platinum and OH MY LORD what a difficulty spike. Sure I probably made some early mistakes due to Omega Ruby being so easy it almost put me to sleep at times but DAMN. Not only did I experience my first wipe of the entire run, I got to restart this chapter of the run 4 times after dying to Mars, Gardenia, Fantina and Cynthia. My first wipe to Mars I definitely blame on OR. I came in riding high off my easy E4 sweep only to be put in my place time and time again by Platinum. It was a welcome difficulty spike. I had been feeling like I had been getting through the first 3 games too easily. Even if those where the 3 regions I knew like the back of my hand.
I was however painfully reminded of something while running this game. As a kid I played Red, Silver and Ruby non stop. I absolutely loved those games. Red and Silver moreso than Ruby but I still played the crap out of it.
I know I played Platinum when it released, not because I remember playing it, in fact i didn't remember a damn thing about the game, but because I own a copy and when I booted up that copy there was a save file with my name and 50 hours on it.
And as I played through these 5 attempts to finally defeat Cynthia I think I realized why I deleted everything about this game from my memory. It was an issue the game always had for me but it was small enough at first I could live with it. It saw a sizable increase in gen 3 and really started to get on my nerves, but here in gen 4 it finally pushed me too far.
HM overload. I really do mean it when I say the HM requirements sucked almost all the fun out of the game for me. So much so it lead to me taking over a decade long hiatus from anything pokemon related. Yes, hitting late teens and early 20's and exploring different hobbies definitely played a part, but as I played through platinum again I know it for sure. HMs ruined pokemon for me and drove me away from the games. I am glad I rekindled the spark tho.
Back to the run.
On this final successful run I still struggled early on. Claiming Gardenias badge with 4 deaths and 2 mons left in the red. It was a battle that told the story of the early game. I could hardly hold a team together, mons were dropping left and right. This carried on till Fantina, losing another 2 mons until I finally hit my stride.
Things were going just fine up until the trip to Snowpoint City. I remember looking at the map at the start of my first run, seeing the snow and being so excited to get there. Catch a cool ice mon or 2 to add to the team. Only to come out the other side hating that route. Aside from the HM issues, the freaking hail and, as someone who for some reason never uses repels, the constant run, can't escape, run, CAN'T ESCAPE, RUN, CAN'T ESCAPE. My team was constantly on the edge of death because I could not escape from wild battles. 0/10 do not recommend.
After that thing were just fine once again. Picked up the last 2 badges, kick some Galaxy butt. But the devil in a box and went headstrong onto the Elite 4.
Accompanying me on the Championship attempt: Wrex the Houndoom, Blade the Leafeon, Bolt the Luxray, Slash the Scyther, Napoleon the Empoleon and Frisbee the Bastiodon.
Started off against Aaron had me sure the run was over. Wrex missing Flamethrower after Flamethrower while Yanmega gets up to +4evasion after spamming Double team. Then Aaron decides to spare me and uses U-turn for some reason allowing Wrex to sweep.
Bertha doesn't pose much of a threat either. While Whiscash sets up sandstorm, Blade sets up a double swords dance and razorleaf's the team to death.
Flint was a much larger issue. My best mon against him is Napoleon, who is slow as a snail and doesn't even resist anything Flints steam does. Napoleon manages to take out the houndoom but dies to infernape. Bolt comes in to clean up the monkey. Only to be sacrificed to the magmortar so I could get a safe switch in for Frisbee. Turns out I grossly overestimated how much damage Frisbee would be taking and sacced Bolt for nothing. Frisbee toxic stalls out the rest of flints team.
On to Lucian and it's Slashes time to shine. Setting up double swords dance while Mr. Mime sets up reflect and light screen, brick break those away and X scissor through the rest of the team.
Then on to Cynthia. I take an early lead taking out Spiritomb, Togekiss and Rozerade with Blade. Starting to feel confident. Then out comes Garchomp. Immediately setting the tone by outspeeding at critting Blade as I went for a synthesis. This is where I start to panick. Sending Wrex out straight to his death and tossing Frisbee out right after without thinking. Then I caught a break. Garchomp missed 2 attacks in a row allowing me to Toxic, Earthquake and rest with Frisbee, this buys me just enough turns of toxic damage before Frisbee dies for Slash to come in, outspeed Garchomp and finish him off with an X scissor. Milotic and Lucario left. 1 more X scissor, 2 more Aerial aces and its done.
I am now the champion of the Sinnoh region with Slash the Scyther by my side as the lone survivor. However we both know those 2 misses from garchomp were the real mvp.
This is the first run where every death felt like it mattered. A moment to remember the fallen: Jeebus the bidoof, Herc the Machop, Orion the Staravia, Maestro the Kricketune, Pivot the Geodude, Jess the Buneary, Chimes the Chingling, Nugget the Psyduck, Nibley the Pachirisu, Dash the Ponyta, Shade the Rotom and Spoop Jr the Duskull.
Now onwards to Unova!
submitted by sjv891 to nuzlocke [link] [comments]
I was however painfully reminded of something while running this game. As a kid I played Red, Silver and Ruby non stop. I absolutely loved those games. Red and Silver moreso than Ruby but I still played the crap out of it.
I know I played Platinum when it released, not because I remember playing it, in fact i didn't remember a damn thing about the game, but because I own a copy and when I booted up that copy there was a save file with my name and 50 hours on it.
And as I played through these 5 attempts to finally defeat Cynthia I think I realized why I deleted everything about this game from my memory. It was an issue the game always had for me but it was small enough at first I could live with it. It saw a sizable increase in gen 3 and really started to get on my nerves, but here in gen 4 it finally pushed me too far.
HM overload. I really do mean it when I say the HM requirements sucked almost all the fun out of the game for me. So much so it lead to me taking over a decade long hiatus from anything pokemon related. Yes, hitting late teens and early 20's and exploring different hobbies definitely played a part, but as I played through platinum again I know it for sure. HMs ruined pokemon for me and drove me away from the games. I am glad I rekindled the spark tho.
Back to the run.
On this final successful run I still struggled early on. Claiming Gardenias badge with 4 deaths and 2 mons left in the red. It was a battle that told the story of the early game. I could hardly hold a team together, mons were dropping left and right. This carried on till Fantina, losing another 2 mons until I finally hit my stride.
Things were going just fine up until the trip to Snowpoint City. I remember looking at the map at the start of my first run, seeing the snow and being so excited to get there. Catch a cool ice mon or 2 to add to the team. Only to come out the other side hating that route. Aside from the HM issues, the freaking hail and, as someone who for some reason never uses repels, the constant run, can't escape, run, CAN'T ESCAPE, RUN, CAN'T ESCAPE. My team was constantly on the edge of death because I could not escape from wild battles. 0/10 do not recommend.
After that thing were just fine once again. Picked up the last 2 badges, kick some Galaxy butt. But the devil in a box and went headstrong onto the Elite 4.
Accompanying me on the Championship attempt: Wrex the Houndoom, Blade the Leafeon, Bolt the Luxray, Slash the Scyther, Napoleon the Empoleon and Frisbee the Bastiodon.
Started off against Aaron had me sure the run was over. Wrex missing Flamethrower after Flamethrower while Yanmega gets up to +4evasion after spamming Double team. Then Aaron decides to spare me and uses U-turn for some reason allowing Wrex to sweep.
Bertha doesn't pose much of a threat either. While Whiscash sets up sandstorm, Blade sets up a double swords dance and razorleaf's the team to death.
Flint was a much larger issue. My best mon against him is Napoleon, who is slow as a snail and doesn't even resist anything Flints steam does. Napoleon manages to take out the houndoom but dies to infernape. Bolt comes in to clean up the monkey. Only to be sacrificed to the magmortar so I could get a safe switch in for Frisbee. Turns out I grossly overestimated how much damage Frisbee would be taking and sacced Bolt for nothing. Frisbee toxic stalls out the rest of flints team.
On to Lucian and it's Slashes time to shine. Setting up double swords dance while Mr. Mime sets up reflect and light screen, brick break those away and X scissor through the rest of the team.
Then on to Cynthia. I take an early lead taking out Spiritomb, Togekiss and Rozerade with Blade. Starting to feel confident. Then out comes Garchomp. Immediately setting the tone by outspeeding at critting Blade as I went for a synthesis. This is where I start to panick. Sending Wrex out straight to his death and tossing Frisbee out right after without thinking. Then I caught a break. Garchomp missed 2 attacks in a row allowing me to Toxic, Earthquake and rest with Frisbee, this buys me just enough turns of toxic damage before Frisbee dies for Slash to come in, outspeed Garchomp and finish him off with an X scissor. Milotic and Lucario left. 1 more X scissor, 2 more Aerial aces and its done.
I am now the champion of the Sinnoh region with Slash the Scyther by my side as the lone survivor. However we both know those 2 misses from garchomp were the real mvp.
This is the first run where every death felt like it mattered. A moment to remember the fallen: Jeebus the bidoof, Herc the Machop, Orion the Staravia, Maestro the Kricketune, Pivot the Geodude, Jess the Buneary, Chimes the Chingling, Nugget the Psyduck, Nibley the Pachirisu, Dash the Ponyta, Shade the Rotom and Spoop Jr the Duskull.
Now onwards to Unova!
2023.06.07 11:08 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More