Insufferable crypt dead cells
A place to monitor the activities of cuckold aznidentity mods
2017.08.02 07:35 AnXia4444 A place to monitor the activities of cuckold aznidentity mods
A place to monitor the activities of the cuckold aznidentity mods and the users there who think like them. Please use old Reddit to see all the resources on the sidebar.
2023.05.30 22:24 lbabinz [Walmart] Dead Cells Return to Castlevania Edition (Switch / PS5 / PS4) is up for pre-order
submitted by lbabinz to GamePreordersCanada [link] [comments]2023.05.30 21:57 Cause_Good_808 This Kauai Neighborhood Is A Celebrated Cell Phone Dead Zone. AT&T Wants To Change That
 | submitted by Cause_Good_808 to kauai [link] [comments] |
2023.05.30 21:42 Lazarinth Why Chichi is actually the best DB wife and parent
She gets a lot of hate because of how she treated Gohan and Goku from the Saiyan saga to cell saga but can you honestly blame her? No and here's why.
Back in DB she saw Goku was a great man and chose him to be her husband, she loved him. She wanted the traditional marriage and traditional life, have a wedding, raise her kids to be better than it's parents and live a peaceful life doing so. She put up with Goku's barbaric attitude on a daily basis like when he didn't name Gohan but wanted to go fishing.
She wanted her first born not to be born into a life of fighting, she wanted him to be a scholar and to be something better. This is traditional behavior for non western women especially Chinese and Japanese women. Chichi sometimes just went overboard but it's all out of love. And to top it off Gohan actually never loved fighting he was always meant to be a scholar, you could say Chichi at heart knew her son.
You have to remember that she married a alien that's barbaric and only cares about fighting and not once did she EVER(in canon manga) ever thing about leaving him even when he was dead. Even when Goku was dead and she was poor she never got remarried she literally stayed loyal to the very end.
People say she was tripping when she never wanted Gohan to train to fight but no she wasn't. What mother would be ok with her literally infant son training with a green alien to fight other alien from space or be ok with her son fighting on a different planet or training to fight robot androids? Seems like her erratic behavior is kind of justified especially considering she only has one son and just wanted a traditional peaceful life of raising a kid to be a scholar without all the extra stress included. Wouldn't she kind of be a bad mother if she didn't care ? Sure maybe she is a bit ignorant to the more serious things like evil being trying to destroy the earth but from her point of view she never signed up for this she just wants what's best for HER son and no mother wants to see her son fighting aliens or robots especially when the son is literally a child not even a pre teen lol. I mean how would you feel if your 6 year old brother was fighting aliens? I'd probably make him stop tbh.
Bulma spoils her kids rotten
Android 18 and her kid live with a literal pedophile sex offender
Videl neglects her kid.
I say Chichi is the best mother in DBZ. Gohan is not only one of the strongest guys in the series but he's also a good father and has a great real job and can support his entire family with his income all thanks to Chichi. Gohan had that balance of training and academics to be where he is today and it's thanks to both Goku and Chichi together.
submitted by Lazarinth to Dragonballsuper [link] [comments]
Back in DB she saw Goku was a great man and chose him to be her husband, she loved him. She wanted the traditional marriage and traditional life, have a wedding, raise her kids to be better than it's parents and live a peaceful life doing so. She put up with Goku's barbaric attitude on a daily basis like when he didn't name Gohan but wanted to go fishing.
She wanted her first born not to be born into a life of fighting, she wanted him to be a scholar and to be something better. This is traditional behavior for non western women especially Chinese and Japanese women. Chichi sometimes just went overboard but it's all out of love. And to top it off Gohan actually never loved fighting he was always meant to be a scholar, you could say Chichi at heart knew her son.
You have to remember that she married a alien that's barbaric and only cares about fighting and not once did she EVER(in canon manga) ever thing about leaving him even when he was dead. Even when Goku was dead and she was poor she never got remarried she literally stayed loyal to the very end.
People say she was tripping when she never wanted Gohan to train to fight but no she wasn't. What mother would be ok with her literally infant son training with a green alien to fight other alien from space or be ok with her son fighting on a different planet or training to fight robot androids? Seems like her erratic behavior is kind of justified especially considering she only has one son and just wanted a traditional peaceful life of raising a kid to be a scholar without all the extra stress included. Wouldn't she kind of be a bad mother if she didn't care ? Sure maybe she is a bit ignorant to the more serious things like evil being trying to destroy the earth but from her point of view she never signed up for this she just wants what's best for HER son and no mother wants to see her son fighting aliens or robots especially when the son is literally a child not even a pre teen lol. I mean how would you feel if your 6 year old brother was fighting aliens? I'd probably make him stop tbh.
Bulma spoils her kids rotten
Android 18 and her kid live with a literal pedophile sex offender
Videl neglects her kid.
I say Chichi is the best mother in DBZ. Gohan is not only one of the strongest guys in the series but he's also a good father and has a great real job and can support his entire family with his income all thanks to Chichi. Gohan had that balance of training and academics to be where he is today and it's thanks to both Goku and Chichi together.
2023.05.30 21:02 GameOnBrother Dead Cells: The Rogue-Lite Board Game Hands-On Preview
 | submitted by GameOnBrother to GamesAreLife [link] [comments] |
2023.05.30 20:49 lluv77 More Recommendations Please :)
I had great success asking previously and decided to try again.
I’m looking for new games to play and collect. I do lean towards more independent and mature/horror games. I do like almost every genre though.
Some games I enjoy:
Oxide Room 104 Deaths Door Cult of the Lamb Outlast Coma Singalis Paper Mario It takes Two Remothered Dead Cells Celeste White Day Dying Light Shantea Bayonetta Most Mario games tbh Metroid Prime Remastered Bramble the Mountain King Luigi’s Mansion W.M.D Worms River City Girls Indivisible
I think that’s a pretty solid list with a good idea of what I’ve played.
Recommendations of any that I may enjoy are wanted and welcome. I also don’t want to pay out the nose, but will consider it if the game is worth it.
Thanks!
Edit: Adding more games I own lol. Carrion Ender Lillies Afterimage Tunic (is coming) No More Heros
I’ll add more if someone mentions a game. That way it’s clear what I have. :)
submitted by lluv77 to NSCollectors [link] [comments]
I’m looking for new games to play and collect. I do lean towards more independent and mature/horror games. I do like almost every genre though.
Some games I enjoy:
Oxide Room 104 Deaths Door Cult of the Lamb Outlast Coma Singalis Paper Mario It takes Two Remothered Dead Cells Celeste White Day Dying Light Shantea Bayonetta Most Mario games tbh Metroid Prime Remastered Bramble the Mountain King Luigi’s Mansion W.M.D Worms River City Girls Indivisible
I think that’s a pretty solid list with a good idea of what I’ve played.
Recommendations of any that I may enjoy are wanted and welcome. I also don’t want to pay out the nose, but will consider it if the game is worth it.
Thanks!
Edit: Adding more games I own lol. Carrion Ender Lillies Afterimage Tunic (is coming) No More Heros
I’ll add more if someone mentions a game. That way it’s clear what I have. :)
2023.05.30 20:36 ReyFromJersey Dad's a Narcissist; How Do Iive with him?
TLDR: My Dad (m, 68) is a Narcissist Personality who can't acknowledge his own wrongdoings, and as I (f, 32) getting a clear understanding of my mental health, I don't know how to keep him in my life.
My Dad Has a narcissistic personality type. Pretty textbook. And while my mother was married to him, he displayed the majority of Dear Abby's signs of an abuser. Nothing physical ever. No dead animals. No physical violence against her or me.
But he's become insufferable. And I am undergoing a mental health metamorphosis, unlearning a variety of toxic coping mechanisms that I primarily developed living with him for the first 20 or so years of my life.
High empathy. Walking on eggshells. Never discussing my own needs or wants. Binge Eating. Making myself small and innocuous. All or nothing fear of failure.
Because my grown-ass father threw temper tantrums over any inconvenience. He did nothing to help, expecting my mother to cook, clean, run the household to every fine detail, and raise me. He was the breadwinner.
Now I'm 31, 32 at the end of June. Life has been a lot more difficult than I was led to believe.
My Mom gets it. We live together by choice. Because we get along and have a lot of the same shared trauma.
In December, I decided I missed my Dad despite every prior visit ending in me hiding somewhere so he wouldn't see me cry. He's good at triggering me.
I took a 10-hour + train either way to see him. I tried to explain triggers and that he can't determine what others are sensitive about. And I explained my weight and fatphobia are my top trigger.
Naturally, after I broke down crying in front of him for the first time, he continued to be an ass.
(Pissy about political correctness. He's never actually been racist. But he was raised in a well-off white family that took regular vacations. So his primary problem is a complete lack of understanding of the world outside his own experiences.
For instance, he couldn't understand why referring to Will Smith as a "Negro" Actor was racist.
Or why drunk Irish jokes are not the same as jokes about People of color.
And that no one owes you their time or conversations, and initial reactions are major.
And on my last night visiting, he brought up my weight. Because "he cared".
Ignoring the fact that just the notion of that topic has me sobbing a couple of nights earlier.
The visit plunged me into a deeper depression than I'd ever been. I withdrew and stopped talking much.
In April, I started TMS therapy for my depression and anxiety. And the day I started, my Dad sent me a horrible email of emotional manipulation. When I told him he makes me do too much emotional labor for us, he flipped out. After a couple weeks, I apologized that my words hurt him, and tried to explain I would not be who I have been before.
(I wanted him to understand I won't be a doormat anymore, and I am going to call him out for problematic behavior).
But because I was too subtle...he missed it.
My head is much clearer now. The TMS has been magic. Unfortunately, I'm also remembering all the reasons teenage me resented my father.
Because none of them have changed. Only I have.
Accommodating him is not good for me. If our relationship is to survive, I need him to acknowledge his missteps or wrongdoing.
And at this point, he's made it clear to me it's no longer ignorance. He is too intelligent not to understand things laid out in front of him.
And he doesn't believe in conversation boundaries and is resentful of the number of topics I've told him I don't want to discuss with him. Usually, they end in arguments where he refuses to listen to what I'm saying.
He's also extremely isolated. No social media. Doesn't follow the news. He owns his home. He's retired. He doesn't have as much to worry about.
He is removed and won't listen to anything that challenges his thoughts and beliefs.
I don't want to lose my father. I do love him. And I know he's capable of better.
But I'm at my wit's end. I don't want to be freshly traumatized every time I visit him. In part because I'm effectively trapped. He lives in the woods in the mountains.
If I try to bring up something new we could do together, he may entertain the notion, but more often, he's blown off my interests completely. This makes talking to him challenging, because he has, uh
Traumatized me out of enjoying any of his interests by being a complete control freak and brat in my developmental years who if did not constantly have some kind of engagement, would throw things around.
So I'm not a fan of Westerns, because he made the family watch every John Wayne movie-and most of Clint Eastwood's.
For me exploring nature was about meandering and enjoying myself. For Dad, walks were marches. I stopped enjoying going out into nature with him.
Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, we'd visit his father and stepfamily. Every year we'd be so agitated because of his stepmother that he and Mom fought on the way home while I was in the backseat.
Not to speak of the assorted holiday traditions he tainted. Jack O'Lanterns, Thanksgiving Meal, Christmas Trees.
I could and will probably write a collection of these experiences at some point.
But...he's my Dad. And when particular challenges arose, he'd help charge them on my account. He was my defender when I needed defending.
But Mom had to defend me far more often, from him. From his tantrums. From his heckling about my weight. From his blatant insensitivity to others' feelings.
I don't want to lose my Dad. But I don't know how to keep him, either. Does anyone have any tips or experiences for dealing with a situation like this?
submitted by ReyFromJersey to family [link] [comments]
My Dad Has a narcissistic personality type. Pretty textbook. And while my mother was married to him, he displayed the majority of Dear Abby's signs of an abuser. Nothing physical ever. No dead animals. No physical violence against her or me.
But he's become insufferable. And I am undergoing a mental health metamorphosis, unlearning a variety of toxic coping mechanisms that I primarily developed living with him for the first 20 or so years of my life.
High empathy. Walking on eggshells. Never discussing my own needs or wants. Binge Eating. Making myself small and innocuous. All or nothing fear of failure.
Because my grown-ass father threw temper tantrums over any inconvenience. He did nothing to help, expecting my mother to cook, clean, run the household to every fine detail, and raise me. He was the breadwinner.
Now I'm 31, 32 at the end of June. Life has been a lot more difficult than I was led to believe.
My Mom gets it. We live together by choice. Because we get along and have a lot of the same shared trauma.
In December, I decided I missed my Dad despite every prior visit ending in me hiding somewhere so he wouldn't see me cry. He's good at triggering me.
I took a 10-hour + train either way to see him. I tried to explain triggers and that he can't determine what others are sensitive about. And I explained my weight and fatphobia are my top trigger.
Naturally, after I broke down crying in front of him for the first time, he continued to be an ass.
(Pissy about political correctness. He's never actually been racist. But he was raised in a well-off white family that took regular vacations. So his primary problem is a complete lack of understanding of the world outside his own experiences.
For instance, he couldn't understand why referring to Will Smith as a "Negro" Actor was racist.
Or why drunk Irish jokes are not the same as jokes about People of color.
And that no one owes you their time or conversations, and initial reactions are major.
And on my last night visiting, he brought up my weight. Because "he cared".
Ignoring the fact that just the notion of that topic has me sobbing a couple of nights earlier.
The visit plunged me into a deeper depression than I'd ever been. I withdrew and stopped talking much.
In April, I started TMS therapy for my depression and anxiety. And the day I started, my Dad sent me a horrible email of emotional manipulation. When I told him he makes me do too much emotional labor for us, he flipped out. After a couple weeks, I apologized that my words hurt him, and tried to explain I would not be who I have been before.
(I wanted him to understand I won't be a doormat anymore, and I am going to call him out for problematic behavior).
But because I was too subtle...he missed it.
My head is much clearer now. The TMS has been magic. Unfortunately, I'm also remembering all the reasons teenage me resented my father.
Because none of them have changed. Only I have.
Accommodating him is not good for me. If our relationship is to survive, I need him to acknowledge his missteps or wrongdoing.
And at this point, he's made it clear to me it's no longer ignorance. He is too intelligent not to understand things laid out in front of him.
And he doesn't believe in conversation boundaries and is resentful of the number of topics I've told him I don't want to discuss with him. Usually, they end in arguments where he refuses to listen to what I'm saying.
He's also extremely isolated. No social media. Doesn't follow the news. He owns his home. He's retired. He doesn't have as much to worry about.
He is removed and won't listen to anything that challenges his thoughts and beliefs.
I don't want to lose my father. I do love him. And I know he's capable of better.
But I'm at my wit's end. I don't want to be freshly traumatized every time I visit him. In part because I'm effectively trapped. He lives in the woods in the mountains.
If I try to bring up something new we could do together, he may entertain the notion, but more often, he's blown off my interests completely. This makes talking to him challenging, because he has, uh
Traumatized me out of enjoying any of his interests by being a complete control freak and brat in my developmental years who if did not constantly have some kind of engagement, would throw things around.
So I'm not a fan of Westerns, because he made the family watch every John Wayne movie-and most of Clint Eastwood's.
For me exploring nature was about meandering and enjoying myself. For Dad, walks were marches. I stopped enjoying going out into nature with him.
Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, we'd visit his father and stepfamily. Every year we'd be so agitated because of his stepmother that he and Mom fought on the way home while I was in the backseat.
Not to speak of the assorted holiday traditions he tainted. Jack O'Lanterns, Thanksgiving Meal, Christmas Trees.
I could and will probably write a collection of these experiences at some point.
But...he's my Dad. And when particular challenges arose, he'd help charge them on my account. He was my defender when I needed defending.
But Mom had to defend me far more often, from him. From his tantrums. From his heckling about my weight. From his blatant insensitivity to others' feelings.
I don't want to lose my Dad. But I don't know how to keep him, either. Does anyone have any tips or experiences for dealing with a situation like this?
2023.05.30 20:30 TheDrungeonBlaster Gutterpunks Reloaded #7:100 Dead Nazis
-Red-
April 19th, 11:13 A.M., The Sprawl
I sparked a dilapidated Vita-Cig that I’d snagged from Trodes and peered out into the Sprawl; the careful equilibrium of a well-orchestrated black-market had returned; pushers and gangers lined the alleys, watching for signals from rooftop lookouts to avoid the single Peacewatch cruiser that had been stupid enough to enter the dockside. The poor bastard would be dead before the afternoon was over… not that I had much sympathy for his kind. Peacewatch made it a habit to stay out of the Sprawl: unless the Eggheads predictive crime system said something catastrophic was coming, they policed their kind and left us in the hands of the mob. I’d never iced an officer. Not yet at least.
“Your partner should be ready shortly, I think he’s just tying up a few loose ends,” Akari said, snatching the cigarette from my hand and taking a long drag.
“Remind me again why you think I should take the shrimp with me instead of Nico and Roman?”
“He’s smart… and the other two are working on something else. Besides-- you need brains on this one, Red, not muscle,” she giggled, passing the cigarette back.
“Whatever you say,” I paused, grabbing the smoke, “what do you have them up to?”
“There’s a shipment of Xeno-grade weapons coming down from the colonies. Nico and Roman will be liberating them from the Slicers. Or, their share, at least. It won’t be much, maybe a dozen guns, but it’ll be worth it: the force field tech alone will pay for the trip as soon as Fincetti’s goons start trying to take your heads off with plasma cannons and mono blades.”
“What do you mean, their share?”
“The job was too big for us to take on alone. I linked up with another enterprising group of Freelancers. If it goes well, maybe we can hire them on for the heist, we’re going to need more people if we want to walk out of there alive.”
We?
“What, are you planning on coming along now?” I asked, snuffing out the smoke.
“It only seems right; Trodes is coming along, and I’m a better shot than he’ll ever be. Besides, you have a dangerous habit of getting shot, and I can’t have you going down in the field,” she said, winking as if to punctuate the sentence.
“You sure? We can manage, you don’t have to come with us, you’ve done so much already.”
“I know I have, that’s why I have to protect my investment. If you go down out there, then the team is without a leader. A military scale operation like this will go south real fast without someone competent in command.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Akari: I’m no leader. I’m just someone who wants to live in a better city and doesn’t mind taking the trash out himself. Besides, why do we need a leader? We’re all competent adults acting in concert, of our own free will. We all know what we’re doing, if a situation arises and someone needs to take charge, it’ll happen.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in a crew you just met,” Akari said with a sneer.
“You know why I asked you to put the team together, Akari?”
“Because there’s a bounty on your head that could finance twenty retirements, and you know you can trust me?”
“No, well yeah, but that’s beside the point—I asked you because you’re not a Fixer, you’re a part time street doc that works the front desk at the most popular Freelancer hotel in the Sprawl. If there’s anyone who knows who’s gonna get the job done, it’s you. See, a Fixer is going to be okay with whatever losses they deem acceptable beforehand, but they’re fine with keeping that to themselves. If you thought any of these mooks were going to crack under pressure, or do something stupid, you wouldn’t have set me up with them.”
Before she could respond, Trodes emerged from the stairs leading to the lab. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes, shrugging on the hood of the oversized sweatshirt that blanketed his meek frame. Glimpses of pain showed through every tremor laden step he took. A cloak of wires enveloped his skull, feeding into an old-world cyber console.
“It’s insufferably hot out here,” Trodes sighed.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Chances are that whatever hole we’re meeting BFU in will have air conditioning,” I responded, clicking my key fob, and signaling the bike to pull around.
Trodes face fell flat when the Supersonic rolled around the corner; apparently, the prestige of carving through the skyway on a state-of-the-art Taffington jet-bike was lost on him.
“Are we taking… that?” Trodes stammered.
“We are. Unless you’ve got a pair of wheels with two seats?” I asked, mounting the bike and revving the engine.
With an exasperated sigh, Trodes boarded the passenger seat. I could feel him behind me, vibrating as tremors gripped his body.
“You good, buddy?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously, clenching the handrails with white knuckles.
Akari shook her head and headed back to the lab.
I heard Trodes mumble something under his breath, but it was quickly drowned out by the jet-bike’s purr. I carved into the skyway. Driving in the Sprawl was pure freedom: almost nobody owned vehicles with aerial capabilities in this part of town. It didn’t take long to reach top speed.
Slummers and gutterpunks walked the streets like zombies in a drug addled haze. The scent of gunpowder, pollution and burning ozone coalesced into a putrid stench that reeked of poverty and violence. Patches of azure moved in militant formation below; the Vorrath had taken to the streets. On a different day, a better day, I would’ve helped them. Most slummers hated the Offworlder Coalition, but not me—at the end of the day I always figured that I had more in common with poor people from another planet than rich people from another district of the city. At least we shared the same struggle.
The bike slowed to crawl; the Neo-Confederates were about, backed by a platoon of Brown-Shirts that looked like a tide of sewer run off, crashing through the streets with reckless abandon. Civilians fled for their homes. Fuck.
The jet-bike careened through the air before finally landing atop a building a few blocks away from the impending conflict.
“Get off,” I said, turning back to Trodes.
“Why? You don’t intend to abandon me at this altitude, do you?”
“Not as long as I survive—I’ll be quick, I just need to ventilate some Nazi fucks, understood?”
He shook his head and muttered a string of curses.
I tore through the air, circling around the impending conflict. I chased a handful of cheap amphetamines with a poorly rolled joint and swooped low, behind the rolling tide of brown shirts. This wasn’t the first time I’d made myself an enemy of the city’s Neo-Nazi’s; I’d killed at least a dozen of them in my career as a courier, but those were isolated incidents, back-alley brawls away from the mob.
This was a whole new ball game.
I fell slack as my Teleoperations module synchronized with the bike. My consciousness faded, reemerging into the HALO-Net’s stylized rendition of the bike’s interior. I wasn’t just the pilot now—I was the bike. Bullets carved twin streaks of crimson into the brown tide. It didn’t take long to hit top speed, 3.7 seconds, to be exact.
The group turned in nearly perfect unison, launching volley upon volley as I passed overhead. The bike’s shields barely held together; I felt every round, like a flock of birds violently slamming into my side—not enough to cause any real damage, but more than enough to get the blood pumping. I slid into an alley a few blocks off and waited for the shield generator to recharge. Gunshots rang out from the streets, alongside the sizzle of plasma meeting flesh. Soon the din was drowned beneath the roar of dozens of Vorrath war cries. I took to the sky.
Trodes was exactly where I left him, nervously clutching a knock off version of a Locust flechette pistol.
“I was beginning to doubt your survival,” Trodes said shakily.
“Wrong again, little guy,” I paused, reigniting a half smoked joint, “it was just a quick hit and run, we don’t have the time or the numbers for a pitched battle. Now, hop on.”
It didn’t take long to find BFU’s base of operations. Black flags and Anarchist graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned warehouse they’d apparently taken up residence in. A field of repurposed Peacewatch turrets were installed atop the roof, complimented by a web of cameras that spread across a three-block radius. Anarchists of all species and creeds loitered outside. The guards ranged from Cyborgs and Vat-Grown, to Vorrath and Vorstihl, each wearing a variant of the black flag with colors corresponding to their ideologies.
As I hovered above the building, I saw a familiar face: the rookie from earlier. Alarmingly, his cruiser was nowhere to be seen. His face was wrought with horror, as a pair of cyborgs led him inside the warehouse.
“They’re certainly less than subtle,” Trodes said.
“They don’t have to be subtle, they’re the biggest citizens political organization in the Sprawl. Peacewatch avoids them if they have anything less than a full platoon on hand,” I explained.
“Red… before we enter negotiations with these hooligans, I must inquire as to what your motivation hitting the vault is? Surely you know there’s a strong likelihood that you won’t make it out, and from what I’d heard about you, I always understood you to be a man who knew how to keep himself out of the line of sight of dangerous people,” Trodes said, nervously.
“Fincetti is the most dangerous man in the city, short of O’Bannon. He controls the black market with an iron fist and is instrumental in all the things I hate about living here. The problem is, I have no way to do anything about it right now… but there’s something big in the safe—there must be—for fucks sake, he iced his family over it. I’m hoping there’s something in there that can give me a little leverage, so I can cross him out afterwards.”
Trodes was silent for a moment, simply reaching as if to ask me to pass the joint. I obliged.
“I have my reasons to want O’Bannon dead too, I’m in,” he paused as a coughing fit seized him, causing the joint to fall to the ground, “there’s something you should know though: I’m working with an entity of great power in the Net; I don’t know what precisely it is, but I know it saved my life more than once. As a matter of fact, it’s the only reason I was able to obtain the blueprint of Fincetti’s bunker, and his security plan.”
“Is it… is it an unshackled AI?”
“Unlikely: it seems to understand compassion and empathy on a uniquely organic level, something that rarely slips past Netwatch.”
“Alright, well whatever it is, you keep an eye on it and let me know if things get shady. I appreciate you telling me.”
Trodes nodded in silence.
The crowd parted expectantly as I landed along the streetside. Dozens of eyes were immediately glued to Trodes and I. A cyborg with a steel double mohawk emerged from a sea of leather, patches, and smoke. A sawed-off shotgun hung at his side.
“Red, I presume?” the Cyborg asked, extending a steel hand.
“That’s right, and who’re you?” I answered, clasping the borgs hand as firm as I could manage.
“They call me Diezel, and I’ll be your host today,” he released my hand and looked me up and down as if assessing whether I was a threat, “follow me, everyone’s here so we can get straight down to business.”
The warehouse’s interior had been renovated drastically; layers of open-faced lofts sat stacked upon each other, consuming the walls. Nearly every non-violent law in the city was being broken in the lofts, from cooking chems and explosives to studying banned literature and Doomguard martial arts. It was beautiful. We followed Diezel through a winding hallway of munitions manufacturing stations, before finally emerging into an immense circular room, with rows of seats climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe it—there must have been two hundred people present.
The lights dimmed as we entered the arena. Diezel led us to the rooms center, ushering Trodes and I onto a great circular platform; he fell into place on a platform across from us, beside a Vat-Grown woman bearing an orange and black flag on her arm, and augmentations that cost more than my bike. Behind the duo a bulbous Vorstihl lurked; tentacles draped down his back, carefully pulled away from his cyclopean eye. A red and black flag was displayed on his arm… it was only then that I noticed the blue and black flag on Diezel’s arm.
The platforms each rose roughly fifteen feet into the air, before microphone stands emerged from the center of each platform. Diezel stepped forward, past the microphone.
“Before we start, I’ll explain how this works: the three of us are representatives of our specific unions—but the people are free to interject. One union voting to aid in your endeavors does not guarantee the help of the other two, as each union demands a perfect consensus. Likewise, if a faction without one union decides to help you, it does not necessarily mean you have the support of the entire union. The only way you’ll end up with total support is cross union consensus. Do you understand?”
A consensus: of course, they needed a damned consensus.
“I do,” I answered, speaking away from the microphone.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Diezel stepped back, finding his microphone before continuing, “Red, Trodes, welcome to the Bouleuterion,” he paused a moment as the crowd erupted into cheers, “beside me are my comrades Aria and Korvirex, and we stand ready to hear your proposal.”
“As most of you probably know, Don Fincetti is the most powerful man in the underworld, hell—maybe even the city—what you likely don’t know is that he has a vault beneath the city, guarded by an army of Harvesters. I intend to break into the vault, slaughter the Harvesters and strike a blow to Fincetti that he won’t forget… and I intend to kill him shortly after. What I ask is simple: you help me in what’s to come, and when he’s finally dead, you can all split his turf among yourselves. All I care about is making sure he doesn’t live long enough to poison the Sprawl more than he already has.”
A murmur emerged from the stands. I gazed across the way to see the three representatives huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Aria stepped towards her microphone.
“What you ask of us will likely mean the death of many of our people… we need something greater than what you offer—we need a guarantee of mutual aid—you have a reputation in the Sprawl, we would ask that you employ it in helping us when the time comes to resettle the Sprawl. Namely, we’d request your assistance against the gangs that may try to fill the power void you seek to create,” Aria explained.
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
Aria stepped back as Korvirex moved forward.
“Tell me, Red, are you familiar with the Offworlder Coalition?” Korvirex asked.
“I am—as a matter of fact, I aided them on the way here—they were marching against the Neo-Confederates and the Brown Shirts. I insured that they had the element of surprise.”
Korvirex stroked the beard-like tentacles that hung from his chin in contemplation.
“Good. What I ask is that you help us to secure their trust, we have offered solidarity where we could, but our forces are spread thin. The ideology of many of the exiled Vorrath rebels that found their way to Nova City—it matches that of our union. If our help was offered, would you agree to assist us in aiding the Coalition, so that they finally have an opportunity to get on their feet?”
Trodes leaned towards in, whispering in my ear.
“It would be prudent of you to make a counteroffer: proclaim that you’ll help with the Coalition, if they’ll spread the word to other groups whose goals may align with ours. There will likely be at least a couple hundred Harvesters in the Undercity when we strike… unless they’re occupied elsewhere.”
“I would happily help with the Coalition, on the condition that your faction spread the word about what we’re doing to like-minded organizations. As it stands, we could still use more numbers to match the Harvesters,” I said.
“These conditions may be satisfactory,” Korvirex said, before retreating into yet another group huddle.
The audience watched on in silence.
Finally, Diezel reapproached the microphone.
“The representatives have deemed this topic worthy of discussion: you’re free to leave, we’ll get ahold of Akari in a couple days, when all the details are ironed out.”
“A couple days?”
“Reaching a consensus can be a slow process at times—be prepared for a renegotiation of conditions, as there will likely be more stipulations made once the process is complete,” Diezel explained.
I nodded, and the platform beneath my feet began to descend towards the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Hopefully Nico and Roman would beat us home.
submitted by TheDrungeonBlaster to WriteFantasyStories [link] [comments]
April 19th, 11:13 A.M., The Sprawl
I sparked a dilapidated Vita-Cig that I’d snagged from Trodes and peered out into the Sprawl; the careful equilibrium of a well-orchestrated black-market had returned; pushers and gangers lined the alleys, watching for signals from rooftop lookouts to avoid the single Peacewatch cruiser that had been stupid enough to enter the dockside. The poor bastard would be dead before the afternoon was over… not that I had much sympathy for his kind. Peacewatch made it a habit to stay out of the Sprawl: unless the Eggheads predictive crime system said something catastrophic was coming, they policed their kind and left us in the hands of the mob. I’d never iced an officer. Not yet at least.
“Your partner should be ready shortly, I think he’s just tying up a few loose ends,” Akari said, snatching the cigarette from my hand and taking a long drag.
“Remind me again why you think I should take the shrimp with me instead of Nico and Roman?”
“He’s smart… and the other two are working on something else. Besides-- you need brains on this one, Red, not muscle,” she giggled, passing the cigarette back.
“Whatever you say,” I paused, grabbing the smoke, “what do you have them up to?”
“There’s a shipment of Xeno-grade weapons coming down from the colonies. Nico and Roman will be liberating them from the Slicers. Or, their share, at least. It won’t be much, maybe a dozen guns, but it’ll be worth it: the force field tech alone will pay for the trip as soon as Fincetti’s goons start trying to take your heads off with plasma cannons and mono blades.”
“What do you mean, their share?”
“The job was too big for us to take on alone. I linked up with another enterprising group of Freelancers. If it goes well, maybe we can hire them on for the heist, we’re going to need more people if we want to walk out of there alive.”
We?
“What, are you planning on coming along now?” I asked, snuffing out the smoke.
“It only seems right; Trodes is coming along, and I’m a better shot than he’ll ever be. Besides, you have a dangerous habit of getting shot, and I can’t have you going down in the field,” she said, winking as if to punctuate the sentence.
“You sure? We can manage, you don’t have to come with us, you’ve done so much already.”
“I know I have, that’s why I have to protect my investment. If you go down out there, then the team is without a leader. A military scale operation like this will go south real fast without someone competent in command.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Akari: I’m no leader. I’m just someone who wants to live in a better city and doesn’t mind taking the trash out himself. Besides, why do we need a leader? We’re all competent adults acting in concert, of our own free will. We all know what we’re doing, if a situation arises and someone needs to take charge, it’ll happen.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in a crew you just met,” Akari said with a sneer.
“You know why I asked you to put the team together, Akari?”
“Because there’s a bounty on your head that could finance twenty retirements, and you know you can trust me?”
“No, well yeah, but that’s beside the point—I asked you because you’re not a Fixer, you’re a part time street doc that works the front desk at the most popular Freelancer hotel in the Sprawl. If there’s anyone who knows who’s gonna get the job done, it’s you. See, a Fixer is going to be okay with whatever losses they deem acceptable beforehand, but they’re fine with keeping that to themselves. If you thought any of these mooks were going to crack under pressure, or do something stupid, you wouldn’t have set me up with them.”
Before she could respond, Trodes emerged from the stairs leading to the lab. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes, shrugging on the hood of the oversized sweatshirt that blanketed his meek frame. Glimpses of pain showed through every tremor laden step he took. A cloak of wires enveloped his skull, feeding into an old-world cyber console.
“It’s insufferably hot out here,” Trodes sighed.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Chances are that whatever hole we’re meeting BFU in will have air conditioning,” I responded, clicking my key fob, and signaling the bike to pull around.
Trodes face fell flat when the Supersonic rolled around the corner; apparently, the prestige of carving through the skyway on a state-of-the-art Taffington jet-bike was lost on him.
“Are we taking… that?” Trodes stammered.
“We are. Unless you’ve got a pair of wheels with two seats?” I asked, mounting the bike and revving the engine.
With an exasperated sigh, Trodes boarded the passenger seat. I could feel him behind me, vibrating as tremors gripped his body.
“You good, buddy?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously, clenching the handrails with white knuckles.
Akari shook her head and headed back to the lab.
I heard Trodes mumble something under his breath, but it was quickly drowned out by the jet-bike’s purr. I carved into the skyway. Driving in the Sprawl was pure freedom: almost nobody owned vehicles with aerial capabilities in this part of town. It didn’t take long to reach top speed.
Slummers and gutterpunks walked the streets like zombies in a drug addled haze. The scent of gunpowder, pollution and burning ozone coalesced into a putrid stench that reeked of poverty and violence. Patches of azure moved in militant formation below; the Vorrath had taken to the streets. On a different day, a better day, I would’ve helped them. Most slummers hated the Offworlder Coalition, but not me—at the end of the day I always figured that I had more in common with poor people from another planet than rich people from another district of the city. At least we shared the same struggle.
The bike slowed to crawl; the Neo-Confederates were about, backed by a platoon of Brown-Shirts that looked like a tide of sewer run off, crashing through the streets with reckless abandon. Civilians fled for their homes. Fuck.
The jet-bike careened through the air before finally landing atop a building a few blocks away from the impending conflict.
“Get off,” I said, turning back to Trodes.
“Why? You don’t intend to abandon me at this altitude, do you?”
“Not as long as I survive—I’ll be quick, I just need to ventilate some Nazi fucks, understood?”
He shook his head and muttered a string of curses.
I tore through the air, circling around the impending conflict. I chased a handful of cheap amphetamines with a poorly rolled joint and swooped low, behind the rolling tide of brown shirts. This wasn’t the first time I’d made myself an enemy of the city’s Neo-Nazi’s; I’d killed at least a dozen of them in my career as a courier, but those were isolated incidents, back-alley brawls away from the mob.
This was a whole new ball game.
I fell slack as my Teleoperations module synchronized with the bike. My consciousness faded, reemerging into the HALO-Net’s stylized rendition of the bike’s interior. I wasn’t just the pilot now—I was the bike. Bullets carved twin streaks of crimson into the brown tide. It didn’t take long to hit top speed, 3.7 seconds, to be exact.
The group turned in nearly perfect unison, launching volley upon volley as I passed overhead. The bike’s shields barely held together; I felt every round, like a flock of birds violently slamming into my side—not enough to cause any real damage, but more than enough to get the blood pumping. I slid into an alley a few blocks off and waited for the shield generator to recharge. Gunshots rang out from the streets, alongside the sizzle of plasma meeting flesh. Soon the din was drowned beneath the roar of dozens of Vorrath war cries. I took to the sky.
Trodes was exactly where I left him, nervously clutching a knock off version of a Locust flechette pistol.
“I was beginning to doubt your survival,” Trodes said shakily.
“Wrong again, little guy,” I paused, reigniting a half smoked joint, “it was just a quick hit and run, we don’t have the time or the numbers for a pitched battle. Now, hop on.”
It didn’t take long to find BFU’s base of operations. Black flags and Anarchist graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned warehouse they’d apparently taken up residence in. A field of repurposed Peacewatch turrets were installed atop the roof, complimented by a web of cameras that spread across a three-block radius. Anarchists of all species and creeds loitered outside. The guards ranged from Cyborgs and Vat-Grown, to Vorrath and Vorstihl, each wearing a variant of the black flag with colors corresponding to their ideologies.
As I hovered above the building, I saw a familiar face: the rookie from earlier. Alarmingly, his cruiser was nowhere to be seen. His face was wrought with horror, as a pair of cyborgs led him inside the warehouse.
“They’re certainly less than subtle,” Trodes said.
“They don’t have to be subtle, they’re the biggest citizens political organization in the Sprawl. Peacewatch avoids them if they have anything less than a full platoon on hand,” I explained.
“Red… before we enter negotiations with these hooligans, I must inquire as to what your motivation hitting the vault is? Surely you know there’s a strong likelihood that you won’t make it out, and from what I’d heard about you, I always understood you to be a man who knew how to keep himself out of the line of sight of dangerous people,” Trodes said, nervously.
“Fincetti is the most dangerous man in the city, short of O’Bannon. He controls the black market with an iron fist and is instrumental in all the things I hate about living here. The problem is, I have no way to do anything about it right now… but there’s something big in the safe—there must be—for fucks sake, he iced his family over it. I’m hoping there’s something in there that can give me a little leverage, so I can cross him out afterwards.”
Trodes was silent for a moment, simply reaching as if to ask me to pass the joint. I obliged.
“I have my reasons to want O’Bannon dead too, I’m in,” he paused as a coughing fit seized him, causing the joint to fall to the ground, “there’s something you should know though: I’m working with an entity of great power in the Net; I don’t know what precisely it is, but I know it saved my life more than once. As a matter of fact, it’s the only reason I was able to obtain the blueprint of Fincetti’s bunker, and his security plan.”
“Is it… is it an unshackled AI?”
“Unlikely: it seems to understand compassion and empathy on a uniquely organic level, something that rarely slips past Netwatch.”
“Alright, well whatever it is, you keep an eye on it and let me know if things get shady. I appreciate you telling me.”
Trodes nodded in silence.
The crowd parted expectantly as I landed along the streetside. Dozens of eyes were immediately glued to Trodes and I. A cyborg with a steel double mohawk emerged from a sea of leather, patches, and smoke. A sawed-off shotgun hung at his side.
“Red, I presume?” the Cyborg asked, extending a steel hand.
“That’s right, and who’re you?” I answered, clasping the borgs hand as firm as I could manage.
“They call me Diezel, and I’ll be your host today,” he released my hand and looked me up and down as if assessing whether I was a threat, “follow me, everyone’s here so we can get straight down to business.”
The warehouse’s interior had been renovated drastically; layers of open-faced lofts sat stacked upon each other, consuming the walls. Nearly every non-violent law in the city was being broken in the lofts, from cooking chems and explosives to studying banned literature and Doomguard martial arts. It was beautiful. We followed Diezel through a winding hallway of munitions manufacturing stations, before finally emerging into an immense circular room, with rows of seats climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe it—there must have been two hundred people present.
The lights dimmed as we entered the arena. Diezel led us to the rooms center, ushering Trodes and I onto a great circular platform; he fell into place on a platform across from us, beside a Vat-Grown woman bearing an orange and black flag on her arm, and augmentations that cost more than my bike. Behind the duo a bulbous Vorstihl lurked; tentacles draped down his back, carefully pulled away from his cyclopean eye. A red and black flag was displayed on his arm… it was only then that I noticed the blue and black flag on Diezel’s arm.
The platforms each rose roughly fifteen feet into the air, before microphone stands emerged from the center of each platform. Diezel stepped forward, past the microphone.
“Before we start, I’ll explain how this works: the three of us are representatives of our specific unions—but the people are free to interject. One union voting to aid in your endeavors does not guarantee the help of the other two, as each union demands a perfect consensus. Likewise, if a faction without one union decides to help you, it does not necessarily mean you have the support of the entire union. The only way you’ll end up with total support is cross union consensus. Do you understand?”
A consensus: of course, they needed a damned consensus.
“I do,” I answered, speaking away from the microphone.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Diezel stepped back, finding his microphone before continuing, “Red, Trodes, welcome to the Bouleuterion,” he paused a moment as the crowd erupted into cheers, “beside me are my comrades Aria and Korvirex, and we stand ready to hear your proposal.”
“As most of you probably know, Don Fincetti is the most powerful man in the underworld, hell—maybe even the city—what you likely don’t know is that he has a vault beneath the city, guarded by an army of Harvesters. I intend to break into the vault, slaughter the Harvesters and strike a blow to Fincetti that he won’t forget… and I intend to kill him shortly after. What I ask is simple: you help me in what’s to come, and when he’s finally dead, you can all split his turf among yourselves. All I care about is making sure he doesn’t live long enough to poison the Sprawl more than he already has.”
A murmur emerged from the stands. I gazed across the way to see the three representatives huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Aria stepped towards her microphone.
“What you ask of us will likely mean the death of many of our people… we need something greater than what you offer—we need a guarantee of mutual aid—you have a reputation in the Sprawl, we would ask that you employ it in helping us when the time comes to resettle the Sprawl. Namely, we’d request your assistance against the gangs that may try to fill the power void you seek to create,” Aria explained.
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
Aria stepped back as Korvirex moved forward.
“Tell me, Red, are you familiar with the Offworlder Coalition?” Korvirex asked.
“I am—as a matter of fact, I aided them on the way here—they were marching against the Neo-Confederates and the Brown Shirts. I insured that they had the element of surprise.”
Korvirex stroked the beard-like tentacles that hung from his chin in contemplation.
“Good. What I ask is that you help us to secure their trust, we have offered solidarity where we could, but our forces are spread thin. The ideology of many of the exiled Vorrath rebels that found their way to Nova City—it matches that of our union. If our help was offered, would you agree to assist us in aiding the Coalition, so that they finally have an opportunity to get on their feet?”
Trodes leaned towards in, whispering in my ear.
“It would be prudent of you to make a counteroffer: proclaim that you’ll help with the Coalition, if they’ll spread the word to other groups whose goals may align with ours. There will likely be at least a couple hundred Harvesters in the Undercity when we strike… unless they’re occupied elsewhere.”
“I would happily help with the Coalition, on the condition that your faction spread the word about what we’re doing to like-minded organizations. As it stands, we could still use more numbers to match the Harvesters,” I said.
“These conditions may be satisfactory,” Korvirex said, before retreating into yet another group huddle.
The audience watched on in silence.
Finally, Diezel reapproached the microphone.
“The representatives have deemed this topic worthy of discussion: you’re free to leave, we’ll get ahold of Akari in a couple days, when all the details are ironed out.”
“A couple days?”
“Reaching a consensus can be a slow process at times—be prepared for a renegotiation of conditions, as there will likely be more stipulations made once the process is complete,” Diezel explained.
I nodded, and the platform beneath my feet began to descend towards the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Hopefully Nico and Roman would beat us home.
2023.05.30 20:29 TheDrungeonBlaster [SF] Gutterpunks Reloaded #7: 100 Dead Nazis
-Red-
April 19th, 11:13 A.M., The Sprawl
I sparked a dilapidated Vita-Cig that I’d snagged from Trodes and peered out into the Sprawl; the careful equilibrium of a well-orchestrated black-market had returned; pushers and gangers lined the alleys, watching for signals from rooftop lookouts to avoid the single Peacewatch cruiser that had been stupid enough to enter the dockside. The poor bastard would be dead before the afternoon was over… not that I had much sympathy for his kind. Peacewatch made it a habit to stay out of the Sprawl: unless the Eggheads predictive crime system said something catastrophic was coming, they policed their kind and left us in the hands of the mob. I’d never iced an officer. Not yet at least.
“Your partner should be ready shortly, I think he’s just tying up a few loose ends,” Akari said, snatching the cigarette from my hand and taking a long drag.
“Remind me again why you think I should take the shrimp with me instead of Nico and Roman?”
“He’s smart… and the other two are working on something else. Besides-- you need brains on this one, Red, not muscle,” she giggled, passing the cigarette back.
“Whatever you say,” I paused, grabbing the smoke, “what do you have them up to?”
“There’s a shipment of Xeno-grade weapons coming down from the colonies. Nico and Roman will be liberating them from the Slicers. Or, their share, at least. It won’t be much, maybe a dozen guns, but it’ll be worth it: the force field tech alone will pay for the trip as soon as Fincetti’s goons start trying to take your heads off with plasma cannons and mono blades.”
“What do you mean, their share?”
“The job was too big for us to take on alone. I linked up with another enterprising group of Freelancers. If it goes well, maybe we can hire them on for the heist, we’re going to need more people if we want to walk out of there alive.”
We?
“What, are you planning on coming along now?” I asked, snuffing out the smoke.
“It only seems right; Trodes is coming along, and I’m a better shot than he’ll ever be. Besides, you have a dangerous habit of getting shot, and I can’t have you going down in the field,” she said, winking as if to punctuate the sentence.
“You sure? We can manage, you don’t have to come with us, you’ve done so much already.”
“I know I have, that’s why I have to protect my investment. If you go down out there, then the team is without a leader. A military scale operation like this will go south real fast without someone competent in command.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Akari: I’m no leader. I’m just someone who wants to live in a better city and doesn’t mind taking the trash out himself. Besides, why do we need a leader? We’re all competent adults acting in concert, of our own free will. We all know what we’re doing, if a situation arises and someone needs to take charge, it’ll happen.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in a crew you just met,” Akari said with a sneer.
“You know why I asked you to put the team together, Akari?”
“Because there’s a bounty on your head that could finance twenty retirements, and you know you can trust me?”
“No, well yeah, but that’s beside the point—I asked you because you’re not a Fixer, you’re a part time street doc that works the front desk at the most popular Freelancer hotel in the Sprawl. If there’s anyone who knows who’s gonna get the job done, it’s you. See, a Fixer is going to be okay with whatever losses they deem acceptable beforehand, but they’re fine with keeping that to themselves. If you thought any of these mooks were going to crack under pressure, or do something stupid, you wouldn’t have set me up with them.”
Before she could respond, Trodes emerged from the stairs leading to the lab. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes, shrugging on the hood of the oversized sweatshirt that blanketed his meek frame. Glimpses of pain showed through every tremor laden step he took. A cloak of wires enveloped his skull, feeding into an old-world cyber console.
“It’s insufferably hot out here,” Trodes sighed.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Chances are that whatever hole we’re meeting BFU in will have air conditioning,” I responded, clicking my key fob, and signaling the bike to pull around.
Trodes face fell flat when the Supersonic rolled around the corner; apparently, the prestige of carving through the skyway on a state-of-the-art Taffington jet-bike was lost on him.
“Are we taking… that?” Trodes stammered.
“We are. Unless you’ve got a pair of wheels with two seats?” I asked, mounting the bike and revving the engine.
With an exasperated sigh, Trodes boarded the passenger seat. I could feel him behind me, vibrating as tremors gripped his body.
“You good, buddy?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously, clenching the handrails with white knuckles.
Akari shook her head and headed back to the lab.
I heard Trodes mumble something under his breath, but it was quickly drowned out by the jet-bike’s purr. I carved into the skyway. Driving in the Sprawl was pure freedom: almost nobody owned vehicles with aerial capabilities in this part of town. It didn’t take long to reach top speed.
Slummers and gutterpunks walked the streets like zombies in a drug addled haze. The scent of gunpowder, pollution and burning ozone coalesced into a putrid stench that reeked of poverty and violence. Patches of azure moved in militant formation below; the Vorrath had taken to the streets. On a different day, a better day, I would’ve helped them. Most slummers hated the Offworlder Coalition, but not me—at the end of the day I always figured that I had more in common with poor people from another planet than rich people from another district of the city. At least we shared the same struggle.
The bike slowed to crawl; the Neo-Confederates were about, backed by a platoon of Brown-Shirts that looked like a tide of sewer run off, crashing through the streets with reckless abandon. Civilians fled for their homes. Fuck.
The jet-bike careened through the air before finally landing atop a building a few blocks away from the impending conflict.
“Get off,” I said, turning back to Trodes.
“Why? You don’t intend to abandon me at this altitude, do you?”
“Not as long as I survive—I’ll be quick, I just need to ventilate some Nazi fucks, understood?”
He shook his head and muttered a string of curses.
I tore through the air, circling around the impending conflict. I chased a handful of cheap amphetamines with a poorly rolled joint and swooped low, behind the rolling tide of brown shirts. This wasn’t the first time I’d made myself an enemy of the city’s Neo-Nazi’s; I’d killed at least a dozen of them in my career as a courier, but those were isolated incidents, back-alley brawls away from the mob.
This was a whole new ball game.
I fell slack as my Teleoperations module synchronized with the bike. My consciousness faded, reemerging into the HALO-Net’s stylized rendition of the bike’s interior. I wasn’t just the pilot now—I was the bike. Bullets carved twin streaks of crimson into the brown tide. It didn’t take long to hit top speed, 3.7 seconds, to be exact.
The group turned in nearly perfect unison, launching volley upon volley as I passed overhead. The bike’s shields barely held together; I felt every round, like a flock of birds violently slamming into my side—not enough to cause any real damage, but more than enough to get the blood pumping. I slid into an alley a few blocks off and waited for the shield generator to recharge. Gunshots rang out from the streets, alongside the sizzle of plasma meeting flesh. Soon the din was drowned beneath the roar of dozens of Vorrath war cries. I took to the sky.
Trodes was exactly where I left him, nervously clutching a knock off version of a Locust flechette pistol.
“I was beginning to doubt your survival,” Trodes said shakily.
“Wrong again, little guy,” I paused, reigniting a half smoked joint, “it was just a quick hit and run, we don’t have the time or the numbers for a pitched battle. Now, hop on.”
It didn’t take long to find BFU’s base of operations. Black flags and Anarchist graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned warehouse they’d apparently taken up residence in. A field of repurposed Peacewatch turrets were installed atop the roof, complimented by a web of cameras that spread across a three-block radius. Anarchists of all species and creeds loitered outside. The guards ranged from Cyborgs and Vat-Grown, to Vorrath and Vorstihl, each wearing a variant of the black flag with colors corresponding to their ideologies.
As I hovered above the building, I saw a familiar face: the rookie from earlier. Alarmingly, his cruiser was nowhere to be seen. His face was wrought with horror, as a pair of cyborgs led him inside the warehouse.
“They’re certainly less than subtle,” Trodes said.
“They don’t have to be subtle, they’re the biggest citizens political organization in the Sprawl. Peacewatch avoids them if they have anything less than a full platoon on hand,” I explained.
“Red… before we enter negotiations with these hooligans, I must inquire as to what your motivation hitting the vault is? Surely you know there’s a strong likelihood that you won’t make it out, and from what I’d heard about you, I always understood you to be a man who knew how to keep himself out of the line of sight of dangerous people,” Trodes said, nervously.
“Fincetti is the most dangerous man in the city, short of O’Bannon. He controls the black market with an iron fist and is instrumental in all the things I hate about living here. The problem is, I have no way to do anything about it right now… but there’s something big in the safe—there must be—for fucks sake, he iced his family over it. I’m hoping there’s something in there that can give me a little leverage, so I can cross him out afterwards.”
Trodes was silent for a moment, simply reaching as if to ask me to pass the joint. I obliged.
“I have my reasons to want O’Bannon dead too, I’m in,” he paused as a coughing fit seized him, causing the joint to fall to the ground, “there’s something you should know though: I’m working with an entity of great power in the Net; I don’t know what precisely it is, but I know it saved my life more than once. As a matter of fact, it’s the only reason I was able to obtain the blueprint of Fincetti’s bunker, and his security plan.”
“Is it… is it an unshackled AI?”
“Unlikely: it seems to understand compassion and empathy on a uniquely organic level, something that rarely slips past Netwatch.”
“Alright, well whatever it is, you keep an eye on it and let me know if things get shady. I appreciate you telling me.”
Trodes nodded in silence.
The crowd parted expectantly as I landed along the streetside. Dozens of eyes were immediately glued to Trodes and I. A cyborg with a steel double mohawk emerged from a sea of leather, patches, and smoke. A sawed-off shotgun hung at his side.
“Red, I presume?” the Cyborg asked, extending a steel hand.
“That’s right, and who’re you?” I answered, clasping the borgs hand as firm as I could manage.
“They call me Diezel, and I’ll be your host today,” he released my hand and looked me up and down as if assessing whether I was a threat, “follow me, everyone’s here so we can get straight down to business.”
The warehouse’s interior had been renovated drastically; layers of open-faced lofts sat stacked upon each other, consuming the walls. Nearly every non-violent law in the city was being broken in the lofts, from cooking chems and explosives to studying banned literature and Doomguard martial arts. It was beautiful. We followed Diezel through a winding hallway of munitions manufacturing stations, before finally emerging into an immense circular room, with rows of seats climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe it—there must have been two hundred people present.
The lights dimmed as we entered the arena. Diezel led us to the rooms center, ushering Trodes and I onto a great circular platform; he fell into place on a platform across from us, beside a Vat-Grown woman bearing an orange and black flag on her arm, and augmentations that cost more than my bike. Behind the duo a bulbous Vorstihl lurked; tentacles draped down his back, carefully pulled away from his cyclopean eye. A red and black flag was displayed on his arm… it was only then that I noticed the blue and black flag on Diezel’s arm.
The platforms each rose roughly fifteen feet into the air, before microphone stands emerged from the center of each platform. Diezel stepped forward, past the microphone.
“Before we start, I’ll explain how this works: the three of us are representatives of our specific unions—but the people are free to interject. One union voting to aid in your endeavors does not guarantee the help of the other two, as each union demands a perfect consensus. Likewise, if a faction without one union decides to help you, it does not necessarily mean you have the support of the entire union. The only way you’ll end up with total support is cross union consensus. Do you understand?”
A consensus: of course, they needed a damned consensus.
“I do,” I answered, speaking away from the microphone.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Diezel stepped back, finding his microphone before continuing, “Red, Trodes, welcome to the Bouleuterion,” he paused a moment as the crowd erupted into cheers, “beside me are my comrades Aria and Korvirex, and we stand ready to hear your proposal.”
“As most of you probably know, Don Fincetti is the most powerful man in the underworld, hell—maybe even the city—what you likely don’t know is that he has a vault beneath the city, guarded by an army of Harvesters. I intend to break into the vault, slaughter the Harvesters and strike a blow to Fincetti that he won’t forget… and I intend to kill him shortly after. What I ask is simple: you help me in what’s to come, and when he’s finally dead, you can all split his turf among yourselves. All I care about is making sure he doesn’t live long enough to poison the Sprawl more than he already has.”
A murmur emerged from the stands. I gazed across the way to see the three representatives huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Aria stepped towards her microphone.
“What you ask of us will likely mean the death of many of our people… we need something greater than what you offer—we need a guarantee of mutual aid—you have a reputation in the Sprawl, we would ask that you employ it in helping us when the time comes to resettle the Sprawl. Namely, we’d request your assistance against the gangs that may try to fill the power void you seek to create,” Aria explained.
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
Aria stepped back as Korvirex moved forward.
“Tell me, Red, are you familiar with the Offworlder Coalition?” Korvirex asked.
“I am—as a matter of fact, I aided them on the way here—they were marching against the Neo-Confederates and the Brown Shirts. I insured that they had the element of surprise.”
Korvirex stroked the beard-like tentacles that hung from his chin in contemplation.
“Good. What I ask is that you help us to secure their trust, we have offered solidarity where we could, but our forces are spread thin. The ideology of many of the exiled Vorrath rebels that found their way to Nova City—it matches that of our union. If our help was offered, would you agree to assist us in aiding the Coalition, so that they finally have an opportunity to get on their feet?”
Trodes leaned towards in, whispering in my ear.
“It would be prudent of you to make a counteroffer: proclaim that you’ll help with the Coalition, if they’ll spread the word to other groups whose goals may align with ours. There will likely be at least a couple hundred Harvesters in the Undercity when we strike… unless they’re occupied elsewhere.”
“I would happily help with the Coalition, on the condition that your faction spread the word about what we’re doing to like-minded organizations. As it stands, we could still use more numbers to match the Harvesters,” I said.
“These conditions may be satisfactory,” Korvirex said, before retreating into yet another group huddle.
The audience watched on in silence.
Finally, Diezel reapproached the microphone.
“The representatives have deemed this topic worthy of discussion: you’re free to leave, we’ll get ahold of Akari in a couple days, when all the details are ironed out.”
“A couple days?”
“Reaching a consensus can be a slow process at times—be prepared for a renegotiation of conditions, as there will likely be more stipulations made once the process is complete,” Diezel explained.
I nodded, and the platform beneath my feet began to descend towards the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Hopefully Nico and Roman would beat us home
submitted by TheDrungeonBlaster to shortstories [link] [comments]
April 19th, 11:13 A.M., The Sprawl
I sparked a dilapidated Vita-Cig that I’d snagged from Trodes and peered out into the Sprawl; the careful equilibrium of a well-orchestrated black-market had returned; pushers and gangers lined the alleys, watching for signals from rooftop lookouts to avoid the single Peacewatch cruiser that had been stupid enough to enter the dockside. The poor bastard would be dead before the afternoon was over… not that I had much sympathy for his kind. Peacewatch made it a habit to stay out of the Sprawl: unless the Eggheads predictive crime system said something catastrophic was coming, they policed their kind and left us in the hands of the mob. I’d never iced an officer. Not yet at least.
“Your partner should be ready shortly, I think he’s just tying up a few loose ends,” Akari said, snatching the cigarette from my hand and taking a long drag.
“Remind me again why you think I should take the shrimp with me instead of Nico and Roman?”
“He’s smart… and the other two are working on something else. Besides-- you need brains on this one, Red, not muscle,” she giggled, passing the cigarette back.
“Whatever you say,” I paused, grabbing the smoke, “what do you have them up to?”
“There’s a shipment of Xeno-grade weapons coming down from the colonies. Nico and Roman will be liberating them from the Slicers. Or, their share, at least. It won’t be much, maybe a dozen guns, but it’ll be worth it: the force field tech alone will pay for the trip as soon as Fincetti’s goons start trying to take your heads off with plasma cannons and mono blades.”
“What do you mean, their share?”
“The job was too big for us to take on alone. I linked up with another enterprising group of Freelancers. If it goes well, maybe we can hire them on for the heist, we’re going to need more people if we want to walk out of there alive.”
We?
“What, are you planning on coming along now?” I asked, snuffing out the smoke.
“It only seems right; Trodes is coming along, and I’m a better shot than he’ll ever be. Besides, you have a dangerous habit of getting shot, and I can’t have you going down in the field,” she said, winking as if to punctuate the sentence.
“You sure? We can manage, you don’t have to come with us, you’ve done so much already.”
“I know I have, that’s why I have to protect my investment. If you go down out there, then the team is without a leader. A military scale operation like this will go south real fast without someone competent in command.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Akari: I’m no leader. I’m just someone who wants to live in a better city and doesn’t mind taking the trash out himself. Besides, why do we need a leader? We’re all competent adults acting in concert, of our own free will. We all know what we’re doing, if a situation arises and someone needs to take charge, it’ll happen.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in a crew you just met,” Akari said with a sneer.
“You know why I asked you to put the team together, Akari?”
“Because there’s a bounty on your head that could finance twenty retirements, and you know you can trust me?”
“No, well yeah, but that’s beside the point—I asked you because you’re not a Fixer, you’re a part time street doc that works the front desk at the most popular Freelancer hotel in the Sprawl. If there’s anyone who knows who’s gonna get the job done, it’s you. See, a Fixer is going to be okay with whatever losses they deem acceptable beforehand, but they’re fine with keeping that to themselves. If you thought any of these mooks were going to crack under pressure, or do something stupid, you wouldn’t have set me up with them.”
Before she could respond, Trodes emerged from the stairs leading to the lab. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes, shrugging on the hood of the oversized sweatshirt that blanketed his meek frame. Glimpses of pain showed through every tremor laden step he took. A cloak of wires enveloped his skull, feeding into an old-world cyber console.
“It’s insufferably hot out here,” Trodes sighed.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Chances are that whatever hole we’re meeting BFU in will have air conditioning,” I responded, clicking my key fob, and signaling the bike to pull around.
Trodes face fell flat when the Supersonic rolled around the corner; apparently, the prestige of carving through the skyway on a state-of-the-art Taffington jet-bike was lost on him.
“Are we taking… that?” Trodes stammered.
“We are. Unless you’ve got a pair of wheels with two seats?” I asked, mounting the bike and revving the engine.
With an exasperated sigh, Trodes boarded the passenger seat. I could feel him behind me, vibrating as tremors gripped his body.
“You good, buddy?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously, clenching the handrails with white knuckles.
Akari shook her head and headed back to the lab.
I heard Trodes mumble something under his breath, but it was quickly drowned out by the jet-bike’s purr. I carved into the skyway. Driving in the Sprawl was pure freedom: almost nobody owned vehicles with aerial capabilities in this part of town. It didn’t take long to reach top speed.
Slummers and gutterpunks walked the streets like zombies in a drug addled haze. The scent of gunpowder, pollution and burning ozone coalesced into a putrid stench that reeked of poverty and violence. Patches of azure moved in militant formation below; the Vorrath had taken to the streets. On a different day, a better day, I would’ve helped them. Most slummers hated the Offworlder Coalition, but not me—at the end of the day I always figured that I had more in common with poor people from another planet than rich people from another district of the city. At least we shared the same struggle.
The bike slowed to crawl; the Neo-Confederates were about, backed by a platoon of Brown-Shirts that looked like a tide of sewer run off, crashing through the streets with reckless abandon. Civilians fled for their homes. Fuck.
The jet-bike careened through the air before finally landing atop a building a few blocks away from the impending conflict.
“Get off,” I said, turning back to Trodes.
“Why? You don’t intend to abandon me at this altitude, do you?”
“Not as long as I survive—I’ll be quick, I just need to ventilate some Nazi fucks, understood?”
He shook his head and muttered a string of curses.
I tore through the air, circling around the impending conflict. I chased a handful of cheap amphetamines with a poorly rolled joint and swooped low, behind the rolling tide of brown shirts. This wasn’t the first time I’d made myself an enemy of the city’s Neo-Nazi’s; I’d killed at least a dozen of them in my career as a courier, but those were isolated incidents, back-alley brawls away from the mob.
This was a whole new ball game.
I fell slack as my Teleoperations module synchronized with the bike. My consciousness faded, reemerging into the HALO-Net’s stylized rendition of the bike’s interior. I wasn’t just the pilot now—I was the bike. Bullets carved twin streaks of crimson into the brown tide. It didn’t take long to hit top speed, 3.7 seconds, to be exact.
The group turned in nearly perfect unison, launching volley upon volley as I passed overhead. The bike’s shields barely held together; I felt every round, like a flock of birds violently slamming into my side—not enough to cause any real damage, but more than enough to get the blood pumping. I slid into an alley a few blocks off and waited for the shield generator to recharge. Gunshots rang out from the streets, alongside the sizzle of plasma meeting flesh. Soon the din was drowned beneath the roar of dozens of Vorrath war cries. I took to the sky.
Trodes was exactly where I left him, nervously clutching a knock off version of a Locust flechette pistol.
“I was beginning to doubt your survival,” Trodes said shakily.
“Wrong again, little guy,” I paused, reigniting a half smoked joint, “it was just a quick hit and run, we don’t have the time or the numbers for a pitched battle. Now, hop on.”
It didn’t take long to find BFU’s base of operations. Black flags and Anarchist graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned warehouse they’d apparently taken up residence in. A field of repurposed Peacewatch turrets were installed atop the roof, complimented by a web of cameras that spread across a three-block radius. Anarchists of all species and creeds loitered outside. The guards ranged from Cyborgs and Vat-Grown, to Vorrath and Vorstihl, each wearing a variant of the black flag with colors corresponding to their ideologies.
As I hovered above the building, I saw a familiar face: the rookie from earlier. Alarmingly, his cruiser was nowhere to be seen. His face was wrought with horror, as a pair of cyborgs led him inside the warehouse.
“They’re certainly less than subtle,” Trodes said.
“They don’t have to be subtle, they’re the biggest citizens political organization in the Sprawl. Peacewatch avoids them if they have anything less than a full platoon on hand,” I explained.
“Red… before we enter negotiations with these hooligans, I must inquire as to what your motivation hitting the vault is? Surely you know there’s a strong likelihood that you won’t make it out, and from what I’d heard about you, I always understood you to be a man who knew how to keep himself out of the line of sight of dangerous people,” Trodes said, nervously.
“Fincetti is the most dangerous man in the city, short of O’Bannon. He controls the black market with an iron fist and is instrumental in all the things I hate about living here. The problem is, I have no way to do anything about it right now… but there’s something big in the safe—there must be—for fucks sake, he iced his family over it. I’m hoping there’s something in there that can give me a little leverage, so I can cross him out afterwards.”
Trodes was silent for a moment, simply reaching as if to ask me to pass the joint. I obliged.
“I have my reasons to want O’Bannon dead too, I’m in,” he paused as a coughing fit seized him, causing the joint to fall to the ground, “there’s something you should know though: I’m working with an entity of great power in the Net; I don’t know what precisely it is, but I know it saved my life more than once. As a matter of fact, it’s the only reason I was able to obtain the blueprint of Fincetti’s bunker, and his security plan.”
“Is it… is it an unshackled AI?”
“Unlikely: it seems to understand compassion and empathy on a uniquely organic level, something that rarely slips past Netwatch.”
“Alright, well whatever it is, you keep an eye on it and let me know if things get shady. I appreciate you telling me.”
Trodes nodded in silence.
The crowd parted expectantly as I landed along the streetside. Dozens of eyes were immediately glued to Trodes and I. A cyborg with a steel double mohawk emerged from a sea of leather, patches, and smoke. A sawed-off shotgun hung at his side.
“Red, I presume?” the Cyborg asked, extending a steel hand.
“That’s right, and who’re you?” I answered, clasping the borgs hand as firm as I could manage.
“They call me Diezel, and I’ll be your host today,” he released my hand and looked me up and down as if assessing whether I was a threat, “follow me, everyone’s here so we can get straight down to business.”
The warehouse’s interior had been renovated drastically; layers of open-faced lofts sat stacked upon each other, consuming the walls. Nearly every non-violent law in the city was being broken in the lofts, from cooking chems and explosives to studying banned literature and Doomguard martial arts. It was beautiful. We followed Diezel through a winding hallway of munitions manufacturing stations, before finally emerging into an immense circular room, with rows of seats climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe it—there must have been two hundred people present.
The lights dimmed as we entered the arena. Diezel led us to the rooms center, ushering Trodes and I onto a great circular platform; he fell into place on a platform across from us, beside a Vat-Grown woman bearing an orange and black flag on her arm, and augmentations that cost more than my bike. Behind the duo a bulbous Vorstihl lurked; tentacles draped down his back, carefully pulled away from his cyclopean eye. A red and black flag was displayed on his arm… it was only then that I noticed the blue and black flag on Diezel’s arm.
The platforms each rose roughly fifteen feet into the air, before microphone stands emerged from the center of each platform. Diezel stepped forward, past the microphone.
“Before we start, I’ll explain how this works: the three of us are representatives of our specific unions—but the people are free to interject. One union voting to aid in your endeavors does not guarantee the help of the other two, as each union demands a perfect consensus. Likewise, if a faction without one union decides to help you, it does not necessarily mean you have the support of the entire union. The only way you’ll end up with total support is cross union consensus. Do you understand?”
A consensus: of course, they needed a damned consensus.
“I do,” I answered, speaking away from the microphone.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Diezel stepped back, finding his microphone before continuing, “Red, Trodes, welcome to the Bouleuterion,” he paused a moment as the crowd erupted into cheers, “beside me are my comrades Aria and Korvirex, and we stand ready to hear your proposal.”
“As most of you probably know, Don Fincetti is the most powerful man in the underworld, hell—maybe even the city—what you likely don’t know is that he has a vault beneath the city, guarded by an army of Harvesters. I intend to break into the vault, slaughter the Harvesters and strike a blow to Fincetti that he won’t forget… and I intend to kill him shortly after. What I ask is simple: you help me in what’s to come, and when he’s finally dead, you can all split his turf among yourselves. All I care about is making sure he doesn’t live long enough to poison the Sprawl more than he already has.”
A murmur emerged from the stands. I gazed across the way to see the three representatives huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Aria stepped towards her microphone.
“What you ask of us will likely mean the death of many of our people… we need something greater than what you offer—we need a guarantee of mutual aid—you have a reputation in the Sprawl, we would ask that you employ it in helping us when the time comes to resettle the Sprawl. Namely, we’d request your assistance against the gangs that may try to fill the power void you seek to create,” Aria explained.
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
Aria stepped back as Korvirex moved forward.
“Tell me, Red, are you familiar with the Offworlder Coalition?” Korvirex asked.
“I am—as a matter of fact, I aided them on the way here—they were marching against the Neo-Confederates and the Brown Shirts. I insured that they had the element of surprise.”
Korvirex stroked the beard-like tentacles that hung from his chin in contemplation.
“Good. What I ask is that you help us to secure their trust, we have offered solidarity where we could, but our forces are spread thin. The ideology of many of the exiled Vorrath rebels that found their way to Nova City—it matches that of our union. If our help was offered, would you agree to assist us in aiding the Coalition, so that they finally have an opportunity to get on their feet?”
Trodes leaned towards in, whispering in my ear.
“It would be prudent of you to make a counteroffer: proclaim that you’ll help with the Coalition, if they’ll spread the word to other groups whose goals may align with ours. There will likely be at least a couple hundred Harvesters in the Undercity when we strike… unless they’re occupied elsewhere.”
“I would happily help with the Coalition, on the condition that your faction spread the word about what we’re doing to like-minded organizations. As it stands, we could still use more numbers to match the Harvesters,” I said.
“These conditions may be satisfactory,” Korvirex said, before retreating into yet another group huddle.
The audience watched on in silence.
Finally, Diezel reapproached the microphone.
“The representatives have deemed this topic worthy of discussion: you’re free to leave, we’ll get ahold of Akari in a couple days, when all the details are ironed out.”
“A couple days?”
“Reaching a consensus can be a slow process at times—be prepared for a renegotiation of conditions, as there will likely be more stipulations made once the process is complete,” Diezel explained.
I nodded, and the platform beneath my feet began to descend towards the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Hopefully Nico and Roman would beat us home
2023.05.30 20:28 rejuvaliftbeauty The Ultimate Guide to Exfoliation & Its Benefits!
 | Exfoliating is a term that you probably hear all the time. You might have heard the term in commercial ads where celebrities talk about their exfoliation routine on a podcast. The question might come to your mind: is it a part of your skincare routine? submitted by rejuvaliftbeauty to u/rejuvaliftbeauty [link] [comments] Exfoliating has potential benefits for your skin. In this blog, we will learn important insights about exfoliating. https://reddit.com/link/13vxzxh/video/dsss966xz13b1/player Let's get started: What Is Exfoliation?Exfoliation is the process of removing dead skin cells from the outer layer of your skin. It removes dead skin cells and leaves skin looking smoother and more radiant. Also, after exfoliation, your skin will reveal healthy and radiant skin.If you don't have time to visit a salon, you can exfoliate your skin naturally at Home. 3 Ways to Exfoliate Skin Naturally at HomeThese skin care health programs natural methods will give you healthier and glowing skin:To get the most out of exfoliation, you need to know your skin type. You have to determine what type of skin you have:
Pro Tip: If your skin gets irritated, the regime you have used the exfoliation too harshly. If this happens, stop exfoliating your skin and give your skin time to relax.YogurtYogurt's PH is around 5, which is low enough for it to work as an exfoliant. Its cooling properties hydrate the skin and are rich in protein.HoneyHoney has tremendous benefits not only for healthier skin. It has antimicrobial properties that heal skin cells and promote hydration.CoffeeThe fact about coffee is that caffeine has been shown to plump skin and fight signs of aging, such as wrinkles and dark spots.3 Benefits of Exfoliation on the SkinNot only this, exfoliating has many benefits and can be a regular part of your daily skincare routine.Reduce Acne on the SkinExfoliating helps to slough off dead skin cells from the surface of your skin. These dead cells can make your skin look dull and rough.Unclogs PoresExfoliation can prevent breakouts and blackheads and also improve the overall clarity of your skin.Reduce the Sign of AgingBy removing the layer of dead skin cells, your moisturizers, serums, and other treatments can better penetrate the skin and deliver their beneficial ingredients, maximizing their effectiveness.ConclusionTaking good care of your skin is essential for more than just your appearance. Exfoliating has several advantages and can be a regular part of your daily skincare routine. Incorporating regular exfoliation into your skincare routine can result in smoother, softer skin, improved skin texture, and a more youthful complexion. However, it's important to exfoliate gently and not overdo it, as excessive exfoliation can cause irritation and damage to the skin. |
2023.05.30 20:25 TheDrungeonBlaster Gutterpunks Reloaded #8: 100 Dead Nazis
-Red-
April 19th, 11:13 A.M., The Sprawl
I sparked a dilapidated Vita-Cig that I’d snagged from Trodes and peered out into the Sprawl; the careful equilibrium of a well-orchestrated black-market had returned; pushers and gangers lined the alleys, watching for signals from rooftop lookouts to avoid the single Peacewatch cruiser that had been stupid enough to enter the dockside. The poor bastard would be dead before the afternoon was over… not that I had much sympathy for his kind. Peacewatch made it a habit to stay out of the Sprawl: unless the Eggheads predictive crime system said something catastrophic was coming, they policed their kind and left us in the hands of the mob. I’d never iced an officer. Not yet at least.
“Your partner should be ready shortly, I think he’s just tying up a few loose ends,” Akari said, snatching the cigarette from my hand and taking a long drag.
“Remind me again why you think I should take the shrimp with me instead of Nico and Roman?”
“He’s smart… and the other two are working on something else. Besides-- you need brains on this one, Red, not muscle,” she giggled, passing the cigarette back.
“Whatever you say,” I paused, grabbing the smoke, “what do you have them up to?”
“There’s a shipment of Xeno-grade weapons coming down from the colonies. Nico and Roman will be liberating them from the Slicers. Or, their share, at least. It won’t be much, maybe a dozen guns, but it’ll be worth it: the force field tech alone will pay for the trip as soon as Fincetti’s goons start trying to take your heads off with plasma cannons and mono blades.”
“What do you mean, their share?”
“The job was too big for us to take on alone. I linked up with another enterprising group of Freelancers. If it goes well, maybe we can hire them on for the heist, we’re going to need more people if we want to walk out of there alive.”
We?
“What, are you planning on coming along now?” I asked, snuffing out the smoke.
“It only seems right; Trodes is coming along, and I’m a better shot than he’ll ever be. Besides, you have a dangerous habit of getting shot, and I can’t have you going down in the field,” she said, winking as if to punctuate the sentence.
“You sure? We can manage, you don’t have to come with us, you’ve done so much already.”
“I know I have, that’s why I have to protect my investment. If you go down out there, then the team is without a leader. A military scale operation like this will go south real fast without someone competent in command.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Akari: I’m no leader. I’m just someone who wants to live in a better city and doesn’t mind taking the trash out himself. Besides, why do we need a leader? We’re all competent adults acting in concert, of our own free will. We all know what we’re doing, if a situation arises and someone needs to take charge, it’ll happen.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in a crew you just met,” Akari said with a sneer.
“You know why I asked you to put the team together, Akari?”
“Because there’s a bounty on your head that could finance twenty retirements, and you know you can trust me?”
“No, well yeah, but that’s beside the point—I asked you because you’re not a Fixer, you’re a part time street doc that works the front desk at the most popular Freelancer hotel in the Sprawl. If there’s anyone who knows who’s gonna get the job done, it’s you. See, a Fixer is going to be okay with whatever losses they deem acceptable beforehand, but they’re fine with keeping that to themselves. If you thought any of these mooks were going to crack under pressure, or do something stupid, you wouldn’t have set me up with them.”
Before she could respond, Trodes emerged from the stairs leading to the lab. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes, shrugging on the hood of the oversized sweatshirt that blanketed his meek frame. Glimpses of pain showed through every tremor laden step he took. A cloak of wires enveloped his skull, feeding into an old-world cyber console.
“It’s insufferably hot out here,” Trodes sighed.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Chances are that whatever hole we’re meeting BFU in will have air conditioning,” I responded, clicking my key fob, and signaling the bike to pull around.
Trodes face fell flat when the Supersonic rolled around the corner; apparently, the prestige of carving through the skyway on a state-of-the-art Taffington jet-bike was lost on him.
“Are we taking… that?” Trodes stammered.
“We are. Unless you’ve got a pair of wheels with two seats?” I asked, mounting the bike and revving the engine.
With an exasperated sigh, Trodes boarded the passenger seat. I could feel him behind me, vibrating as tremors gripped his body.
“You good, buddy?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously, clenching the handrails with white knuckles.
Akari shook her head and headed back to the lab.
I heard Trodes mumble something under his breath, but it was quickly drowned out by the jet-bike’s purr. I carved into the skyway. Driving in the Sprawl was pure freedom: almost nobody owned vehicles with aerial capabilities in this part of town. It didn’t take long to reach top speed.
Slummers and gutterpunks walked the streets like zombies in a drug addled haze. The scent of gunpowder, pollution and burning ozone coalesced into a putrid stench that reeked of poverty and violence. Patches of azure moved in militant formation below; the Vorrath had taken to the streets. On a different day, a better day, I would’ve helped them. Most slummers hated the Offworlder Coalition, but not me—at the end of the day I always figured that I had more in common with poor people from another planet than rich people from another district of the city. At least we shared the same struggle.
The bike slowed to crawl; the Neo-Confederates were about, backed by a platoon of Brown-Shirts that looked like a tide of sewer run off, crashing through the streets with reckless abandon. Civilians fled for their homes. Fuck.
The jet-bike careened through the air before finally landing atop a building a few blocks away from the impending conflict.
“Get off,” I said, turning back to Trodes.
“Why? You don’t intend to abandon me at this altitude, do you?”
“Not as long as I survive—I’ll be quick, I just need to ventilate some Nazi fucks, understood?”
He shook his head and muttered a string of curses.
I tore through the air, circling around the impending conflict. I chased a handful of cheap amphetamines with a poorly rolled joint and swooped low, behind the rolling tide of brown shirts. This wasn’t the first time I’d made myself an enemy of the city’s Neo-Nazi’s; I’d killed at least a dozen of them in my career as a courier, but those were isolated incidents, back-alley brawls away from the mob.
This was a whole new ball game.
I fell slack as my Teleoperations module synchronized with the bike. My consciousness faded, reemerging into the HALO-Net’s stylized rendition of the bike’s interior. I wasn’t just the pilot now—I was the bike. Bullets carved twin streaks of crimson into the brown tide. It didn’t take long to hit top speed, 3.7 seconds, to be exact.
The group turned in nearly perfect unison, launching volley upon volley as I passed overhead. The bike’s shields barely held together; I felt every round, like a flock of birds violently slamming into my side—not enough to cause any real damage, but more than enough to get the blood pumping. I slid into an alley a few blocks off and waited for the shield generator to recharge. Gunshots rang out from the streets, alongside the sizzle of plasma meeting flesh. Soon the din was drowned beneath the roar of dozens of Vorrath war cries. I took to the sky.
Trodes was exactly where I left him, nervously clutching a knock off version of a Locust flechette pistol.
“I was beginning to doubt your survival,” Trodes said shakily.
“Wrong again, little guy,” I paused, reigniting a half smoked joint, “it was just a quick hit and run, we don’t have the time or the numbers for a pitched battle. Now, hop on.”
It didn’t take long to find BFU’s base of operations. Black flags and Anarchist graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned warehouse they’d apparently taken up residence in. A field of repurposed Peacewatch turrets were installed atop the roof, complimented by a web of cameras that spread across a three-block radius. Anarchists of all species and creeds loitered outside. The guards ranged from Cyborgs and Vat-Grown, to Vorrath and Vorstihl, each wearing a variant of the black flag with colors corresponding to their ideologies.
As I hovered above the building, I saw a familiar face: the rookie from earlier. Alarmingly, his cruiser was nowhere to be seen. His face was wrought with horror, as a pair of cyborgs led him inside the warehouse.
“They’re certainly less than subtle,” Trodes said.
“They don’t have to be subtle, they’re the biggest citizens political organization in the Sprawl. Peacewatch avoids them if they have anything less than a full platoon on hand,” I explained.
“Red… before we enter negotiations with these hooligans, I must inquire as to what your motivation hitting the vault is? Surely you know there’s a strong likelihood that you won’t make it out, and from what I’d heard about you, I always understood you to be a man who knew how to keep himself out of the line of sight of dangerous people,” Trodes said, nervously.
“Fincetti is the most dangerous man in the city, short of O’Bannon. He controls the black market with an iron fist and is instrumental in all the things I hate about living here. The problem is, I have no way to do anything about it right now… but there’s something big in the safe—there must be—for fucks sake, he iced his family over it. I’m hoping there’s something in there that can give me a little leverage, so I can cross him out afterwards.”
Trodes was silent for a moment, simply reaching as if to ask me to pass the joint. I obliged.
“I have my reasons to want O’Bannon dead too, I’m in,” he paused as a coughing fit seized him, causing the joint to fall to the ground, “there’s something you should know though: I’m working with an entity of great power in the Net; I don’t know what precisely it is, but I know it saved my life more than once. As a matter of fact, it’s the only reason I was able to obtain the blueprint of Fincetti’s bunker, and his security plan.”
“Is it… is it an unshackled AI?”
“Unlikely: it seems to understand compassion and empathy on a uniquely organic level, something that rarely slips past Netwatch.”
“Alright, well whatever it is, you keep an eye on it and let me know if things get shady. I appreciate you telling me.”
Trodes nodded in silence.
The crowd parted expectantly as I landed along the streetside. Dozens of eyes were immediately glued to Trodes and I. A cyborg with a steel double mohawk emerged from a sea of leather, patches, and smoke. A sawed-off shotgun hung at his side.
“Red, I presume?” the Cyborg asked, extending a steel hand.
“That’s right, and who’re you?” I answered, clasping the borgs hand as firm as I could manage.
“They call me Diezel, and I’ll be your host today,” he released my hand and looked me up and down as if assessing whether I was a threat, “follow me, everyone’s here so we can get straight down to business.”
The warehouse’s interior had been renovated drastically; layers of open-faced lofts sat stacked upon each other, consuming the walls. Nearly every non-violent law in the city was being broken in the lofts, from cooking chems and explosives to studying banned literature and Doomguard martial arts. It was beautiful. We followed Diezel through a winding hallway of munitions manufacturing stations, before finally emerging into an immense circular room, with rows of seats climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe it—there must have been two hundred people present.
The lights dimmed as we entered the arena. Diezel led us to the rooms center, ushering Trodes and I onto a great circular platform; he fell into place on a platform across from us, beside a Vat-Grown woman bearing an orange and black flag on her arm, and augmentations that cost more than my bike. Behind the duo a bulbous Vorstihl lurked; tentacles draped down his back, carefully pulled away from his cyclopean eye. A red and black flag was displayed on his arm… it was only then that I noticed the blue and black flag on Diezel’s arm.
The platforms each rose roughly fifteen feet into the air, before microphone stands emerged from the center of each platform. Diezel stepped forward, past the microphone.
“Before we start, I’ll explain how this works: the three of us are representatives of our specific unions—but the people are free to interject. One union voting to aid in your endeavors does not guarantee the help of the other two, as each union demands a perfect consensus. Likewise, if a faction without one union decides to help you, it does not necessarily mean you have the support of the entire union. The only way you’ll end up with total support is cross union consensus. Do you understand?”
A consensus: of course, they needed a damned consensus.
“I do,” I answered, speaking away from the microphone.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Diezel stepped back, finding his microphone before continuing, “Red, Trodes, welcome to the Bouleuterion,” he paused a moment as the crowd erupted into cheers, “beside me are my comrades Aria and Korvirex, and we stand ready to hear your proposal.”
“As most of you probably know, Don Fincetti is the most powerful man in the underworld, hell—maybe even the city—what you likely don’t know is that he has a vault beneath the city, guarded by an army of Harvesters. I intend to break into the vault, slaughter the Harvesters and strike a blow to Fincetti that he won’t forget… and I intend to kill him shortly after. What I ask is simple: you help me in what’s to come, and when he’s finally dead, you can all split his turf among yourselves. All I care about is making sure he doesn’t live long enough to poison the Sprawl more than he already has.”
A murmur emerged from the stands. I gazed across the way to see the three representatives huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Aria stepped towards her microphone.
“What you ask of us will likely mean the death of many of our people… we need something greater than what you offer—we need a guarantee of mutual aid—you have a reputation in the Sprawl, we would ask that you employ it in helping us when the time comes to resettle the Sprawl. Namely, we’d request your assistance against the gangs that may try to fill the power void you seek to create,” Aria explained.
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
Aria stepped back as Korvirex moved forward.
“Tell me, Red, are you familiar with the Offworlder Coalition?” Korvirex asked.
“I am—as a matter of fact, I aided them on the way here—they were marching against the Neo-Confederates and the Brown Shirts. I insured that they had the element of surprise.”
Korvirex stroked the beard-like tentacles that hung from his chin in contemplation.
“Good. What I ask is that you help us to secure their trust, we have offered solidarity where we could, but our forces are spread thin. The ideology of many of the exiled Vorrath rebels that found their way to Nova City—it matches that of our union. If our help was offered, would you agree to assist us in aiding the Coalition, so that they finally have an opportunity to get on their feet?”
Trodes leaned towards in, whispering in my ear.
“It would be prudent of you to make a counteroffer: proclaim that you’ll help with the Coalition, if they’ll spread the word to other groups whose goals may align with ours. There will likely be at least a couple hundred Harvesters in the Undercity when we strike… unless they’re occupied elsewhere.”
“I would happily help with the Coalition, on the condition that your faction spread the word about what we’re doing to like-minded organizations. As it stands, we could still use more numbers to match the Harvesters,” I said.
“These conditions may be satisfactory,” Korvirex said, before retreating into yet another group huddle.
The audience watched on in silence.
Finally, Diezel reapproached the microphone.
“The representatives have deemed this topic worthy of discussion: you’re free to leave, we’ll get ahold of Akari in a couple days, when all the details are ironed out.”
“A couple days?”
“Reaching a consensus can be a slow process at times—be prepared for a renegotiation of conditions, as there will likely be more stipulations made once the process is complete,” Diezel explained.
I nodded, and the platform beneath my feet began to descend towards the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Hopefully Nico and Roman would beat us home.
submitted by TheDrungeonBlaster to Novacityblues [link] [comments]
April 19th, 11:13 A.M., The Sprawl
I sparked a dilapidated Vita-Cig that I’d snagged from Trodes and peered out into the Sprawl; the careful equilibrium of a well-orchestrated black-market had returned; pushers and gangers lined the alleys, watching for signals from rooftop lookouts to avoid the single Peacewatch cruiser that had been stupid enough to enter the dockside. The poor bastard would be dead before the afternoon was over… not that I had much sympathy for his kind. Peacewatch made it a habit to stay out of the Sprawl: unless the Eggheads predictive crime system said something catastrophic was coming, they policed their kind and left us in the hands of the mob. I’d never iced an officer. Not yet at least.
“Your partner should be ready shortly, I think he’s just tying up a few loose ends,” Akari said, snatching the cigarette from my hand and taking a long drag.
“Remind me again why you think I should take the shrimp with me instead of Nico and Roman?”
“He’s smart… and the other two are working on something else. Besides-- you need brains on this one, Red, not muscle,” she giggled, passing the cigarette back.
“Whatever you say,” I paused, grabbing the smoke, “what do you have them up to?”
“There’s a shipment of Xeno-grade weapons coming down from the colonies. Nico and Roman will be liberating them from the Slicers. Or, their share, at least. It won’t be much, maybe a dozen guns, but it’ll be worth it: the force field tech alone will pay for the trip as soon as Fincetti’s goons start trying to take your heads off with plasma cannons and mono blades.”
“What do you mean, their share?”
“The job was too big for us to take on alone. I linked up with another enterprising group of Freelancers. If it goes well, maybe we can hire them on for the heist, we’re going to need more people if we want to walk out of there alive.”
We?
“What, are you planning on coming along now?” I asked, snuffing out the smoke.
“It only seems right; Trodes is coming along, and I’m a better shot than he’ll ever be. Besides, you have a dangerous habit of getting shot, and I can’t have you going down in the field,” she said, winking as if to punctuate the sentence.
“You sure? We can manage, you don’t have to come with us, you’ve done so much already.”
“I know I have, that’s why I have to protect my investment. If you go down out there, then the team is without a leader. A military scale operation like this will go south real fast without someone competent in command.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Akari: I’m no leader. I’m just someone who wants to live in a better city and doesn’t mind taking the trash out himself. Besides, why do we need a leader? We’re all competent adults acting in concert, of our own free will. We all know what we’re doing, if a situation arises and someone needs to take charge, it’ll happen.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in a crew you just met,” Akari said with a sneer.
“You know why I asked you to put the team together, Akari?”
“Because there’s a bounty on your head that could finance twenty retirements, and you know you can trust me?”
“No, well yeah, but that’s beside the point—I asked you because you’re not a Fixer, you’re a part time street doc that works the front desk at the most popular Freelancer hotel in the Sprawl. If there’s anyone who knows who’s gonna get the job done, it’s you. See, a Fixer is going to be okay with whatever losses they deem acceptable beforehand, but they’re fine with keeping that to themselves. If you thought any of these mooks were going to crack under pressure, or do something stupid, you wouldn’t have set me up with them.”
Before she could respond, Trodes emerged from the stairs leading to the lab. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes, shrugging on the hood of the oversized sweatshirt that blanketed his meek frame. Glimpses of pain showed through every tremor laden step he took. A cloak of wires enveloped his skull, feeding into an old-world cyber console.
“It’s insufferably hot out here,” Trodes sighed.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Chances are that whatever hole we’re meeting BFU in will have air conditioning,” I responded, clicking my key fob, and signaling the bike to pull around.
Trodes face fell flat when the Supersonic rolled around the corner; apparently, the prestige of carving through the skyway on a state-of-the-art Taffington jet-bike was lost on him.
“Are we taking… that?” Trodes stammered.
“We are. Unless you’ve got a pair of wheels with two seats?” I asked, mounting the bike and revving the engine.
With an exasperated sigh, Trodes boarded the passenger seat. I could feel him behind me, vibrating as tremors gripped his body.
“You good, buddy?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously, clenching the handrails with white knuckles.
Akari shook her head and headed back to the lab.
I heard Trodes mumble something under his breath, but it was quickly drowned out by the jet-bike’s purr. I carved into the skyway. Driving in the Sprawl was pure freedom: almost nobody owned vehicles with aerial capabilities in this part of town. It didn’t take long to reach top speed.
Slummers and gutterpunks walked the streets like zombies in a drug addled haze. The scent of gunpowder, pollution and burning ozone coalesced into a putrid stench that reeked of poverty and violence. Patches of azure moved in militant formation below; the Vorrath had taken to the streets. On a different day, a better day, I would’ve helped them. Most slummers hated the Offworlder Coalition, but not me—at the end of the day I always figured that I had more in common with poor people from another planet than rich people from another district of the city. At least we shared the same struggle.
The bike slowed to crawl; the Neo-Confederates were about, backed by a platoon of Brown-Shirts that looked like a tide of sewer run off, crashing through the streets with reckless abandon. Civilians fled for their homes. Fuck.
The jet-bike careened through the air before finally landing atop a building a few blocks away from the impending conflict.
“Get off,” I said, turning back to Trodes.
“Why? You don’t intend to abandon me at this altitude, do you?”
“Not as long as I survive—I’ll be quick, I just need to ventilate some Nazi fucks, understood?”
He shook his head and muttered a string of curses.
I tore through the air, circling around the impending conflict. I chased a handful of cheap amphetamines with a poorly rolled joint and swooped low, behind the rolling tide of brown shirts. This wasn’t the first time I’d made myself an enemy of the city’s Neo-Nazi’s; I’d killed at least a dozen of them in my career as a courier, but those were isolated incidents, back-alley brawls away from the mob.
This was a whole new ball game.
I fell slack as my Teleoperations module synchronized with the bike. My consciousness faded, reemerging into the HALO-Net’s stylized rendition of the bike’s interior. I wasn’t just the pilot now—I was the bike. Bullets carved twin streaks of crimson into the brown tide. It didn’t take long to hit top speed, 3.7 seconds, to be exact.
The group turned in nearly perfect unison, launching volley upon volley as I passed overhead. The bike’s shields barely held together; I felt every round, like a flock of birds violently slamming into my side—not enough to cause any real damage, but more than enough to get the blood pumping. I slid into an alley a few blocks off and waited for the shield generator to recharge. Gunshots rang out from the streets, alongside the sizzle of plasma meeting flesh. Soon the din was drowned beneath the roar of dozens of Vorrath war cries. I took to the sky.
Trodes was exactly where I left him, nervously clutching a knock off version of a Locust flechette pistol.
“I was beginning to doubt your survival,” Trodes said shakily.
“Wrong again, little guy,” I paused, reigniting a half smoked joint, “it was just a quick hit and run, we don’t have the time or the numbers for a pitched battle. Now, hop on.”
It didn’t take long to find BFU’s base of operations. Black flags and Anarchist graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned warehouse they’d apparently taken up residence in. A field of repurposed Peacewatch turrets were installed atop the roof, complimented by a web of cameras that spread across a three-block radius. Anarchists of all species and creeds loitered outside. The guards ranged from Cyborgs and Vat-Grown, to Vorrath and Vorstihl, each wearing a variant of the black flag with colors corresponding to their ideologies.
As I hovered above the building, I saw a familiar face: the rookie from earlier. Alarmingly, his cruiser was nowhere to be seen. His face was wrought with horror, as a pair of cyborgs led him inside the warehouse.
“They’re certainly less than subtle,” Trodes said.
“They don’t have to be subtle, they’re the biggest citizens political organization in the Sprawl. Peacewatch avoids them if they have anything less than a full platoon on hand,” I explained.
“Red… before we enter negotiations with these hooligans, I must inquire as to what your motivation hitting the vault is? Surely you know there’s a strong likelihood that you won’t make it out, and from what I’d heard about you, I always understood you to be a man who knew how to keep himself out of the line of sight of dangerous people,” Trodes said, nervously.
“Fincetti is the most dangerous man in the city, short of O’Bannon. He controls the black market with an iron fist and is instrumental in all the things I hate about living here. The problem is, I have no way to do anything about it right now… but there’s something big in the safe—there must be—for fucks sake, he iced his family over it. I’m hoping there’s something in there that can give me a little leverage, so I can cross him out afterwards.”
Trodes was silent for a moment, simply reaching as if to ask me to pass the joint. I obliged.
“I have my reasons to want O’Bannon dead too, I’m in,” he paused as a coughing fit seized him, causing the joint to fall to the ground, “there’s something you should know though: I’m working with an entity of great power in the Net; I don’t know what precisely it is, but I know it saved my life more than once. As a matter of fact, it’s the only reason I was able to obtain the blueprint of Fincetti’s bunker, and his security plan.”
“Is it… is it an unshackled AI?”
“Unlikely: it seems to understand compassion and empathy on a uniquely organic level, something that rarely slips past Netwatch.”
“Alright, well whatever it is, you keep an eye on it and let me know if things get shady. I appreciate you telling me.”
Trodes nodded in silence.
The crowd parted expectantly as I landed along the streetside. Dozens of eyes were immediately glued to Trodes and I. A cyborg with a steel double mohawk emerged from a sea of leather, patches, and smoke. A sawed-off shotgun hung at his side.
“Red, I presume?” the Cyborg asked, extending a steel hand.
“That’s right, and who’re you?” I answered, clasping the borgs hand as firm as I could manage.
“They call me Diezel, and I’ll be your host today,” he released my hand and looked me up and down as if assessing whether I was a threat, “follow me, everyone’s here so we can get straight down to business.”
The warehouse’s interior had been renovated drastically; layers of open-faced lofts sat stacked upon each other, consuming the walls. Nearly every non-violent law in the city was being broken in the lofts, from cooking chems and explosives to studying banned literature and Doomguard martial arts. It was beautiful. We followed Diezel through a winding hallway of munitions manufacturing stations, before finally emerging into an immense circular room, with rows of seats climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe it—there must have been two hundred people present.
The lights dimmed as we entered the arena. Diezel led us to the rooms center, ushering Trodes and I onto a great circular platform; he fell into place on a platform across from us, beside a Vat-Grown woman bearing an orange and black flag on her arm, and augmentations that cost more than my bike. Behind the duo a bulbous Vorstihl lurked; tentacles draped down his back, carefully pulled away from his cyclopean eye. A red and black flag was displayed on his arm… it was only then that I noticed the blue and black flag on Diezel’s arm.
The platforms each rose roughly fifteen feet into the air, before microphone stands emerged from the center of each platform. Diezel stepped forward, past the microphone.
“Before we start, I’ll explain how this works: the three of us are representatives of our specific unions—but the people are free to interject. One union voting to aid in your endeavors does not guarantee the help of the other two, as each union demands a perfect consensus. Likewise, if a faction without one union decides to help you, it does not necessarily mean you have the support of the entire union. The only way you’ll end up with total support is cross union consensus. Do you understand?”
A consensus: of course, they needed a damned consensus.
“I do,” I answered, speaking away from the microphone.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Diezel stepped back, finding his microphone before continuing, “Red, Trodes, welcome to the Bouleuterion,” he paused a moment as the crowd erupted into cheers, “beside me are my comrades Aria and Korvirex, and we stand ready to hear your proposal.”
“As most of you probably know, Don Fincetti is the most powerful man in the underworld, hell—maybe even the city—what you likely don’t know is that he has a vault beneath the city, guarded by an army of Harvesters. I intend to break into the vault, slaughter the Harvesters and strike a blow to Fincetti that he won’t forget… and I intend to kill him shortly after. What I ask is simple: you help me in what’s to come, and when he’s finally dead, you can all split his turf among yourselves. All I care about is making sure he doesn’t live long enough to poison the Sprawl more than he already has.”
A murmur emerged from the stands. I gazed across the way to see the three representatives huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Aria stepped towards her microphone.
“What you ask of us will likely mean the death of many of our people… we need something greater than what you offer—we need a guarantee of mutual aid—you have a reputation in the Sprawl, we would ask that you employ it in helping us when the time comes to resettle the Sprawl. Namely, we’d request your assistance against the gangs that may try to fill the power void you seek to create,” Aria explained.
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
Aria stepped back as Korvirex moved forward.
“Tell me, Red, are you familiar with the Offworlder Coalition?” Korvirex asked.
“I am—as a matter of fact, I aided them on the way here—they were marching against the Neo-Confederates and the Brown Shirts. I insured that they had the element of surprise.”
Korvirex stroked the beard-like tentacles that hung from his chin in contemplation.
“Good. What I ask is that you help us to secure their trust, we have offered solidarity where we could, but our forces are spread thin. The ideology of many of the exiled Vorrath rebels that found their way to Nova City—it matches that of our union. If our help was offered, would you agree to assist us in aiding the Coalition, so that they finally have an opportunity to get on their feet?”
Trodes leaned towards in, whispering in my ear.
“It would be prudent of you to make a counteroffer: proclaim that you’ll help with the Coalition, if they’ll spread the word to other groups whose goals may align with ours. There will likely be at least a couple hundred Harvesters in the Undercity when we strike… unless they’re occupied elsewhere.”
“I would happily help with the Coalition, on the condition that your faction spread the word about what we’re doing to like-minded organizations. As it stands, we could still use more numbers to match the Harvesters,” I said.
“These conditions may be satisfactory,” Korvirex said, before retreating into yet another group huddle.
The audience watched on in silence.
Finally, Diezel reapproached the microphone.
“The representatives have deemed this topic worthy of discussion: you’re free to leave, we’ll get ahold of Akari in a couple days, when all the details are ironed out.”
“A couple days?”
“Reaching a consensus can be a slow process at times—be prepared for a renegotiation of conditions, as there will likely be more stipulations made once the process is complete,” Diezel explained.
I nodded, and the platform beneath my feet began to descend towards the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Hopefully Nico and Roman would beat us home.
2023.05.30 20:21 Grif_Vitya [Store] Collector's Cache, Immortal's 2022-21-20.
Dear friends, I offer all the sets from Collector Cache 2021-2022, Immortal 2021-2022 Mythical Set 2021-2022
I am not changing 1 cache set to another!!! Cache sets can be transferred only 1 time as a gift!!!
I have been trading honestly for 3 years - all my reputation and merits are in my profile on the wall.
I want to remind you that all sets from the Collector Cache can be transferred only as a gift if you are friends for more than 30 days according to the rules of Steam.
Therefore, for the purchase, you add my profile to friends, write to me, pay for the goods and wait 30 days. IT is IMPORTANT that in order to buy a product, YOU MUST PAY WHEN ORDERING.
I accept Dota2 item, Arcana, Tf2 Key, Steam Gift Card for payment
There are Discounts - everything is negotiable.
My SteamRep [SteamRep]
My steam profile [Steam Profile]
submitted by Grif_Vitya to Dota2Trade [link] [comments]
I am not changing 1 cache set to another!!! Cache sets can be transferred only 1 time as a gift!!!
| Hero | Set | Quantity | Price |
|---|---|---|---|
| Coll Cache I 22 | Coll Cache I 22 | Coll Cache I 22 | Coll Cache I 22 |
| Riki | Scarlet Subversion | 1 | 5$ |
| Snapfire | Whippersnapper | 3 | 4$ |
| Chen | Hounds of obsession | 6 | 3$ |
| Clockwerk | Seadog’s Stash | 7 | 3$ |
| Spectre | Spoils of the Shadowveil | 1 | 5$ |
| Faceless Void | Chines of the Inquisitor | 5 | 3$ |
| Ursa | Trophies of the Hallowed Hunt | 4 | 4$ |
| Phoenix | Crimson Dawn | 7 | 3$ |
| Terrorblade | Forgotten Station | 6 | 2.5$ |
| Undying | Dirge Amplifier | 5 | 3$ |
| Monkey King | Champion of the Fire Lotus | 8 | 2.5$ |
| Witch Doctor | Deathstitch Shaman | 8 | 3$ |
| MARCI | Blue Horizons (RARE) | 4 | 10$ |
| INVOKER | Angel of Vex (RARE) | 4 | 15$ |
| PRIMAL BEAST | Dark Behemoth (VERY RARE) | 2 | 20$ |
| Coll Cache II 22 | Coll Cache II 22 | Coll Cache II 22 | Coll Cache II 22 |
| Silenser | Grand Supressor | 3 | 3$ |
| Alchemist | Darkbrew's Transgression | 5 | 3$ |
| Oracle | Transcendent path | 3 | 4$ |
| Brewmaster | The Wilding Tiger | 2 | 3$ |
| Doom | Dawn of a darkness foretold | 2 | 3$ |
| Pudge | Cursed CryptBraker | 3 | 4$ |
| Night Stalker | Feasts of Forever | 2 | 4$ |
| Phantom Assassin | Darkfeather Factioneer | 3 | 4$ |
| Clinkz | Withering pain | 4 | 4$ |
| Ogre Magi | Freeboot Fortunes | 4 | 3$ |
| Vangeful Spirit | Acrimonies of obsession | 3 | 4$ |
| Huskar | Sacred Chamber Guardian | 4 | 4$ |
| Techies | War Rig Eradicators | 1 | 4$ |
| Treant Protector (Rare) | Grudges of the gallows tree | 3 | 10$ |
| Anti-Mage (rare) | Brands of the reaper | 4 | 8$ |
| Void Spirit (very rare) | Sublime equilibrium | 2 | 20$ |
| Dead Reckoning | Dead Reckoning | Dead Reckoning | Dead Reckoning |
| Dawnbreaker | Dying Light | 2 | 5$ |
| Viper | Soul Serpent | 2 | 5$ |
| Immortal 2022 | Immortal 2022 | Immortal 2022 | Immortal 2022 |
| Centaur Warruner | Infernal Cavalcade | 6 | 1.5$ |
| Enchantress | Flutterstep | 7 | 1.5$ |
| TemplarAssasin | Seclusions of the Void | 5 | 1.5$ |
| Venomanser | Aktok's Glory | 6 | 1.5$ |
| Meepo | Everglyph Goggles | 8 | 1.5$ |
| BroodMother | Limbs of Lycosidae | 4 | 1.5$ |
| Huskar | Draca Mane | 4 | 1.5$ |
| Necrothos | Sullen Sanctum | 7 | 1.5$ |
| DarkSeer | Insight of Forlorn Precipice | 6 | 1.5$ |
| DragonKnight | Draconic Divide | 6 | 1.5$ |
| Disruptor(RARE) | Tremors of the Tandem Storm | 3 | 5$ |
| Bristleback(RARE) | Blastmitt Berserker | 5 | 3$ |
| TemplarAssasin (VERY RARE) | Golden Seclusions of the Void | 4 | 10$ |
| Centaur Warraner (VERY RARE) | Golden Infernal Cavalcade | 2 | 10$ |
| Huskar (VERY RARE) | Golden Draca Mane | 3 | 10$ |
| Necrothos (VERY RARE) | Golden Sullen Sanctum | 5 | 10$ |
| Hoodwink | The Strings of Suradan | 1 ( unpacked) | 30$ |
| Coll Cache 22 | Coll Cache 22 | Coll Cache 22 | Coll Cache 22 |
| Phantom Lancer | Scales Of The Shadow Walker | 1 | 4$ |
| Chen | Perils of the red banks | 3 | 4$ |
| Broodmother | Widow of the undermount gloom | 2 | 4$ |
| Rubick | March of the crackerjack mage | 3 | 4$ |
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| Coll Cache 19 | Coll Cache 19 | Coll Cache 19 | Coll Cache 19 |
| Abaddon | Echoes of the Everblack | 1 | 10$ |
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2023.05.30 20:00 Classic_Type3827 steamdeck crashing
im playing on steamdeck and its been crashing everytime i die, it also sometimes happens randomly.
and i hate to be that guy that just posts crashlogs but i tried to read it and none of it makes sense, i have been able to find out that its a render issue though
Fallout 4 v1.10.163 Buffout 4 v1.26.2 Unhandled exception "EXCEPTION_ACCESS_VIOLATION" at 0x0003590745E4 d3d11.Dll+00245E4 [Compatibility] F4EE: false [Fixes] ActorIsHostileToActor: true CellInit: true CreateD3DAndSwapChain: true EncounterZoneReset: true GreyMovies: true MagicEffectApplyEvent: true MovementPlanner: true PackageAllocateLocation: true SafeExit: true TESObjectREFRGetEncounterZone: true UnalignedLoad: true UtilityShader: true [Patches] Achievements: true BSMTAManager: true BSPreCulledObjects: true BSTextureStreamerLocalHeap: true HavokMemorySystem: true INISettingCollection: true InputSwitch: false MaxStdIO: -1 MemoryManager: true MemoryManagerDebug: false ScaleformAllocator: true SmallBlockAllocator: true WorkshopMenu: true [Warnings] CreateTexture2D: true ImageSpaceAdapter: true SYSTEM SPECS: OS: Microsoft Windows 10 Pro v10.0.18363 CPU: AuthenticAMD AMD Custom APU 0405 GPU #1: AMD VanGogh [AMD Custom GPU 0405] PHYSICAL MEMORY: 25.57 GB/30.47 GB PROBABLE CALL STACK: [ 0] 0x0003590745E4 d3d11.Dll+00245E4 [ 1] 0x000141D13CBE Fallout4.exe+1D13CBE -> 673619+0x2AE [ 2] 0x00014288018C Fallout4.exe+288018C -> 1184461+0xBC [ 3] 0x00014287F43C Fallout4.exe+287F43C -> 1083446+0xBC [ 4] 0x00014282EFD5 Fallout4.exe+282EFD5 -> 1048494+0x65 [ 5] 0x00014285101F Fallout4.exe+285101F -> 56596+0x36F [ 6] 0x000142857604 Fallout4.exe+2857604 -> 984743+0x184 [ 7] 0x000140D3CCBF Fallout4.exe+0D3CCBF -> 408683+0xDF [ 8] 0x000140D38906 Fallout4.exe+0D38906 -> 1075087+0x206 [ 9] 0x000140D39551 Fallout4.exe+0D39551 -> 633524+0x6F1 [10] 0x000140D36E10 Fallout4.exe+0D36E10 -> 1125396+0xC0 [11] 0x000140D35950 Fallout4.exe+0D35950 -> 668528+0x20 [12] 0x000142937157 Fallout4.exe+2937157 -> 1104651+0x143 [13] 0x00007B62C869 kernel32.dll+002C869 [14] 0x00007BC5FE13 ntdll.dll+005FE13 REGISTERS: RAX 0x0 (size_t) RCX 0x45E0050 (void*) RDX 0x13930F44240522B (size_t) RBX 0x4 (size_t) RSP 0x12F790 (void*) RBP 0x12F920 (void*) RSI 0x12F8F0 (void*) RDI 0x0 (size_t) R8 0x0 (size_t) R9 0x4 (size_t) R10 0x3 (size_t) R11 0x0 (size_t) R12 0x13930F44240522B (size_t) R13 0x45E0050 (void*) R14 0x0 (size_t) R15 0xFBACA600 (void*) STACK: [RSP+0 ] 0x61C5E00 (void*) [RSP+8 ] 0x100000000 (void*) [RSP+10 ] 0x1E3A200 (size_t) [RSP+18 ] 0x45E0050 (void*) [RSP+20 ] 0x2CBA2D50 (void*) [RSP+28 ] 0x359065564 (void* -> d3d11.Dll+0015564) [RSP+30 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+38 ] 0x35906B6C0 (void* -> d3d11.Dll+001B6C0) [RSP+40 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+48 ] 0xF179F100 (void*) [RSP+50 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+58 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+60 ] 0xFBACA688 (void*) [RSP+68 ] 0xFBACA6D0 (void*) [RSP+70 ] 0xFBACA688 (void*) [RSP+78 ] 0x4B12390 (void*) [RSP+80 ] 0x450B68 (char*) "P" [RSP+88 ] 0x141D13CBE (void* -> Fallout4.exe+1D13CBE) [RSP+90 ] 0xF179F100 (void*) [RSP+98 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+A0 ] 0x100000002 (void*) [RSP+A8 ] 0x4 (size_t) [RSP+B0 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+B8 ] 0x12F8F0 (void*) [RSP+C0 ] 0x81 (size_t) [RSP+C8 ] 0x2C588090 (void*) [RSP+D0 ] 0x81 (size_t) [RSP+D8 ] 0x4B123B0 (void*) [RSP+E0 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+E8 ] 0x100000001 (void*) [RSP+F0 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+F8 ] 0x35523B10 (void*) [RSP+100] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+108] 0x1B8001E38600 (size_t) [RSP+110] 0xC00000018 (size_t) [RSP+118] 0x661A60 (void*) [RSP+120] 0xFBACA6D0 (void*) [RSP+128] 0xFBACA688 (void*) [RSP+130] 0x7F1B876C6700 (void*) [RSP+138] 0x21C0000021C0 (size_t) [RSP+140] 0x5FEC90 (void*) [RSP+148] 0x450B70 (void*) [RSP+150] 0x2CBA2D50 (void*) [RSP+158] 0xFEC3E690 (void*) [RSP+160] 0x7F1B871EA340 (void*) [RSP+168] 0x3000000030 (size_t) [RSP+170] 0x5FEC90 (void*) [RSP+178] 0x5FEC90 (void*) [RSP+180] 0x5FEC90 (void*) [RSP+188] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+190] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+198] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1A8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1B8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1C0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1C8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1D0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1D8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1E0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1F8] 0x495A4C8 (BSBatchRenderer*) [RSP+200] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+208] 0x101E (size_t) [RSP+210] 0xF00D4D80 (void*) [RSP+218] 0x4A4E700 (BSDFPrePassShader*) [RSP+220] 0x101E (size_t) [RSP+228] 0x14288018C (void* -> Fallout4.exe+288018C) [RSP+230] 0x6B6EE0A0 (void*) [RSP+238] 0xF00D4E28 (void*) [RSP+240] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+248] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+250] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+258] 0x6B6EE0A0 (void*) [RSP+260] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+268] 0x14287F43C (void* -> Fallout4.exe+287F43C) [RSP+270] 0xA0 (size_t) [RSP+278] 0x495A4C8 (BSBatchRenderer*) [RSP+280] 0x495A528 (void*) [RSP+288] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+290] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+298] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2A8] 0x495A400 (BSShaderAccumulator*) [RSP+2B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2B8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2C0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2C8] 0x4 (size_t) [RSP+2D0] 0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF (size_t) [RSP+2D8] 0x14282EFD5 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+282EFD5) [RSP+2E0] 0x495A4C8 (BSBatchRenderer*) [RSP+2E8] 0x4 (size_t) [RSP+2F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2F8] 0xFFFFFFFF (void*) [RSP+300] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+308] 0x450A10 (void*) [RSP+310] 0x450050 (void*) [RSP+318] 0x14285101F (void* -> Fallout4.exe+285101F) [RSP+320] 0xB20 (size_t) [RSP+328] 0x4B10840 (void*) [RSP+330] 0x4B123B0 (void*) [RSP+338] 0xB18 (size_t) [RSP+340] 0x3F800000 (void*) [RSP+348] 0x3C23D70A (void*) [RSP+350] 0x3F800000 (void*) [RSP+358] 0x450A10 (void*) [RSP+360] 0x404134F2404134F2 (size_t) [RSP+368] 0x404134F2404134F2 (size_t) [RSP+370] 0x800000003F3A5F16 (size_t) [RSP+378] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+380] 0x3EE8F6DC00000000 (size_t) [RSP+388] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+390] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+398] 0xBF7FFFD100000000 (size_t) [RSP+3A0] 0x3A00D971B9A5A9DC (size_t) [RSP+3A8] 0x3F8000003F800000 (size_t) [RSP+3B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+3B8] 0x142857604 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+2857604) [RSP+3C0] 0x2 (size_t) [RSP+3C8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+3D0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+3D8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+3E0] 0x12FB80 (void*) [RSP+3E8] 0x100000000 (void*) [RSP+3F0] 0xBF2D43103F3BD246 (size_t) [RSP+3F8] 0xBD779390 (void*) [RSP+400] 0xBF2DAEEC3F3B612B (size_t) [RSP+408] 0xBD80C0F8 (void*) [RSP+410] 0x47B81FB5C72BA427 (size_t) [RSP+418] 0x45F6E894 (void*) [RSP+420] 0x47B81B26C72B945E (size_t) [RSP+428] 0x45F6DEBD (void*) [RSP+430] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+438] 0x140D3CCBF (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D3CCBF) [RSP+440] 0x2 (size_t) [RSP+448] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+450] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+458] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+460] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+468] 0x140D38906 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D38906) [RSP+470] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+478] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+480] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+488] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+490] 0xF3211D00 (Actor*) Object Reference: File: "" Flags: 0x00000008 Form ID: 0xFF00F2F7 Form Type: 45 File: "Fallout4.esm" Flags: 0x0040040B Form ID: 0x00100EE3 Form Type: 65 [RSP+498] 0x140093A1B (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0093A1B) [RSP+4A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+4A8] 0x12FD58 (void*) [RSP+4B0] 0x492E780 (ShadowSceneNode*) Name: "shadow scene node" [RSP+4B8] 0x2879E2E (void* -> Buffout4.dll+0049E2E) [RSP+4C0] 0xD2075818 (void*) [RSP+4C8] 0x1404807E3 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+04807E3) [RSP+4D0] 0x142C4A948 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+2C4A948) [RSP+4D8] 0x4967D88 (void*) [RSP+4E0] 0x9C0 (size_t) [RSP+4E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+4F0] 0x12FD00 (void*) [RSP+4F8] 0x140D41B5F (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D41B5F) [RSP+500] 0xF3211D00 (Actor*) Object Reference: File: "" Flags: 0x00000008 Form ID: 0xFF00F2F7 Form Type: 45 File: "Fallout4.esm" Flags: 0x0040040B Form ID: 0x00100EE3 Form Type: 65 [RSP+508] 0x10E8A2880 (void*) [RSP+510] 0x4967D88 (void*) [RSP+518] 0x12FD58 (void*) [RSP+520] 0x4531D8E0C58B7348 (size_t) [RSP+528] 0x43A2ED90 (void*) [RSP+530] 0x4A095440 (void*) [RSP+538] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+540] 0x2 (size_t) [RSP+548] 0x140D3AADC (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D3AADC) [RSP+550] 0x10E8A2884 (void*) [RSP+558] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+560] 0x2 (size_t) [RSP+568] 0xF3211D00 (Actor*) Object Reference: File: "" Flags: 0x00000008 Form ID: 0xFF00F2F7 Form Type: 45 File: "Fallout4.esm" Flags: 0x0040040B Form ID: 0x00100EE3 Form Type: 65 [RSP+570] 0x12FD50 (void*) [RSP+578] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+580] 0x429BE0CC (void*) [RSP+588] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+590] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+598] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+5A0] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+5A8] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+5B0] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+5B8] 0x140D39551 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D39551) [RSP+5C0] 0x145A66DD0 (UI*) [RSP+5C8] 0x294FD9 (void*) [RSP+5D0] 0x145A66DD0 (UI*) [RSP+5D8] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+5E0] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+5E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+5F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+5F8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+600] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+608] 0x140D36E10 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D36E10) [RSP+610] 0x600FE (void*) [RSP+618] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+620] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+628] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+630] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+638] 0x140D35950 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D35950) [RSP+640] 0x3C1D1A (void*) [RSP+648] 0x600FE (void*) [RSP+650] 0x647621D6 (void*) [RSP+658] 0x3C1D1A (void*) [RSP+660] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+668] 0x142937157 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+2937157) [RSP+670] 0x3C1D19 (char*) """ [RSP+678] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+680] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+688] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+690] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+698] 0x3C1D1A (void*) [RSP+6A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6A8] 0x7B62C869 (void* -> kernel32.dll+002C869) [RSP+6B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6B8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6C0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6C8] 0x205C510 (void* -> usvfs_x64.dll+007C510) [RSP+6D0] 0xA0009 (void*) [RSP+6D8] 0x7BC5FE13 (void* -> ntdll.dll+005FE13) [RSP+6E0] 0x590C30 (void*) [RSP+6E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6F8] 0x3F0000 (void*) [RSP+700] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+708] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+710] 0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF (size_t) [RSP+718] 0x7BC6B020 (void* -> ntdll.dll+006B020) [RSP+720] 0x7BC25A30 (void* -> ntdll.dll+0025A30) [RSP+728] 0xF (size_t) [RSP+730] 0x12FEA0 (void*) [RSP+738] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+740] 0x12FE70 (void*) [RSP+748] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+750] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+758] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+760] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+768] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+770] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+778] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+780] 0x7BC5FDCE (void* -> ntdll.dll+005FDCE) [RSP+788] 0x27F00001FA0 (size_t) [RSP+790] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+798] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7A8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7B8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7C0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7C8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7D0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7D8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7E0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7F8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+800] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+808] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+810] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+818] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+820] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+828] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+830] 0x7BC5FD90 (void* -> ntdll.dll+005FD90) [RSP+838] 0x202 (size_t) [RSP+840] 0x7BC5FD90 (void* -> ntdll.dll+005FD90) [RSP+848] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+850] 0x146CB9310 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+6CB9310) [RSP+858] 0x67FF0000 (void*) [RSP+860] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+868] 0x0 (size_t) MODULES: F4SE PLUGINS: Buffout4.dll v1.26.2 IpHlpAPI.dll mcm.dll XDI.dll PLUGINS: [00] Fallout4.esm [01] DLCRobot.esm [02] DLCworkshop01.esm [03] DLCCoast.esm [04] DLCworkshop02.esm [05] DLCworkshop03.esm [06] DLCNukaWorld.esm [07] unofficial fallout 4 patch.esp [08] armorkeywords.esm [09] XDI.esm [0A] workshopframework.esm [0B] NukaWorldPlus.esp [0C] moreuniques.esp [0D] clothingoverhaul.esp [0E] armorsmith extended.esp [0F] Stm_DiamondCityExpansion.esp [10] FaceMaxson.esp [11] CombatZoneRestored.esp [12] CombinedArmsNV.esp [13] CombinedArmsEXPack.esp [14] brotherhood_of_steel_overhaul.esp [15] 3dscopes-goty.esp [16] dd-enhanced blood basic.esp [17] everyonesbestfriend.esp [18] improved map with visible roads.esp [19] k9tacticalharness.esp [1A] moddablerobotsettlers.esp [1B] Vivid Fallout - All in One - Best Choice.esp [1C] CombatRifleOverhaul.esp [1D] constructible_faction_guards.esp [1E] the deadly commonwealth expansion.esp [1F] gashelmetsdlc.esp [20] alienassaultrifle.esp [21] radioactivestories.esp [22] Reinforcements.esp [23] militarizedminutemen.esp [24] Skb_RiflesRebirth.esp [25] Mercenary.esp [26] westtektacticaloptics.esp [27] NVUMP.esp [28] expchineserifle.esp [29] institute_overhaul.esp [2A] corvalhowidowshotgun.esp [2B] VUWR - AlternativeEdition.esp [2C] Tec-9.esp [2D] mk14.esp [2E] F4NVServiceRifleRedux.esp [2F] LAER.esp [30] MK18.esp [31] WattzLaserGun.esp [32] stumbleuponinteriors.esp [33] Wana_SA58.esp [34] p99.esp [35] dinoshelf.esp [36] FunctionalDisplays-Collectibles.esp [37] FunctionalDisplays.esp [38] more fortifications.esp [39] postwarpowerarmordisplays.esp [3A] power_armor_overhaul.esp [3B] prewarpowerarmordisplays.esp [3C] skipdimaspuzzles.esp [3D] skkcombatstalkers.esp [3E] vanillacraftingexpansion.esp [3F] upgradeable bos outfits.esp [40] M1Garand.esp [41] UniquePAFrames.esp [42] HandmadeLeverActionSG.esp [43] LeeEnfieldNo4MkI.esp [44] RU556.esp [45] ElMudoStore.esp [46] SigMCX.esp [47] Quad_Technetronic.esp [48] AAMWA2k.esp [49] DakSurvivalHatchet.esp [4A] ReversedWorkshopShader.esp [4B] WestTek.esp [4C] XM2010_SniperRifle_by_tooun.esp [4D] RussianAssaultPack.esp [4E] MP7.esp [4F] WinCowbowRepeater.esp [50] M1A.esp [51] KrissVector.esp [52] G3Family.esp [53] M1Garand - AWKCR.esp [54] LAER Automatron Weapons.esp [55] LAER-Armorsmith_Patch.esp [56] HK_UMP.esp [57] HK_MP5.esp [58] GIAT_FAMAS.esp [59] 9x39Project.esp [5A] 9x39ProjectAWKCR.esp [5B] GrafsSecurityFencesNoMenu.esp [5C] Scopes.esp [5D] QMW-CAE-ALLINONE.esp [5E] QMW-3DM82A3.esp [5F] QMW-3DSCOPEAUG.esp [60] QMW-3DSCOPEM249.esp [61] QMW-3DSCOPEMK12.esp [62] QMW-3DSCOPESPAS12.esp [63] QMW-3DSCOPEVSS.esp [64] QMW-CAG36.esp [65] QWM-3DSCOPE550.esp [66] QWM-CAAKM.esp [67] SIGMCXArmoryProject.esp [68] SIGMCXArmoryProject2.esp [69] skkfaststartnewgame.esp [6A] eli_faction housing overhaul - aio.esp [FE:000] ccbgsfo4015-pipyell.esl [FE:001] ccbgsfo4034-powerarmorskinyellow.esl [FE:002] LIF.esl [FE:003] Dank_WesternRevolver.esl [FE:004] CombinedArmsIntegrationProject.esp [FE:005] FAR.esp [FE:006] CROSS_BrotherhoodRecon.esp [FE:007] CROSS_BreakActionLaser.esp [FE:008] Dank_9x39.esp [FE:009] Dank_CowboyRepeater.esp [FE:00A] Dank_FAMAS.esp [FE:00B] Dank_FNFALSA58.esp [FE:00C] Dank_G3Family.esp [FE:00D] Dank_KrissVector.esp [FE:00E] Dank_LAER.esp [FE:00F] Dank_LeeEnfield.esp [FE:010] Dank_M1A.esp [FE:011] Dank_M1Garand.esp [FE:012] Dank_MK18.esp [FE:013] Dank_MP5.esp [FE:014] Dank_MP7.esp [FE:015] Dank_RU556.esp [FE:016] Dank_RussianAssaultPack.esp [FE:017] Dank_ServiceRifle.esp [FE:018] Dank_UMP.esp [FE:019] Dank_Wattz.esp [FE:01A] Dank_XM2010.esp [FE:01B] CombinedArmsNV - BLD Patch.esp [FE:01C] CombinedArmsIntegrationProject - BLD Patch.esp [FE:01D] CombinedArmsEXPack - BLD Patch.esp
also i dont think im able to use the buffout auto scanner so if someone could do that for me it would be greatly appreciated
submitted by Classic_Type3827 to FO4mods [link] [comments]
and i hate to be that guy that just posts crashlogs but i tried to read it and none of it makes sense, i have been able to find out that its a render issue though
Fallout 4 v1.10.163 Buffout 4 v1.26.2 Unhandled exception "EXCEPTION_ACCESS_VIOLATION" at 0x0003590745E4 d3d11.Dll+00245E4 [Compatibility] F4EE: false [Fixes] ActorIsHostileToActor: true CellInit: true CreateD3DAndSwapChain: true EncounterZoneReset: true GreyMovies: true MagicEffectApplyEvent: true MovementPlanner: true PackageAllocateLocation: true SafeExit: true TESObjectREFRGetEncounterZone: true UnalignedLoad: true UtilityShader: true [Patches] Achievements: true BSMTAManager: true BSPreCulledObjects: true BSTextureStreamerLocalHeap: true HavokMemorySystem: true INISettingCollection: true InputSwitch: false MaxStdIO: -1 MemoryManager: true MemoryManagerDebug: false ScaleformAllocator: true SmallBlockAllocator: true WorkshopMenu: true [Warnings] CreateTexture2D: true ImageSpaceAdapter: true SYSTEM SPECS: OS: Microsoft Windows 10 Pro v10.0.18363 CPU: AuthenticAMD AMD Custom APU 0405 GPU #1: AMD VanGogh [AMD Custom GPU 0405] PHYSICAL MEMORY: 25.57 GB/30.47 GB PROBABLE CALL STACK: [ 0] 0x0003590745E4 d3d11.Dll+00245E4 [ 1] 0x000141D13CBE Fallout4.exe+1D13CBE -> 673619+0x2AE [ 2] 0x00014288018C Fallout4.exe+288018C -> 1184461+0xBC [ 3] 0x00014287F43C Fallout4.exe+287F43C -> 1083446+0xBC [ 4] 0x00014282EFD5 Fallout4.exe+282EFD5 -> 1048494+0x65 [ 5] 0x00014285101F Fallout4.exe+285101F -> 56596+0x36F [ 6] 0x000142857604 Fallout4.exe+2857604 -> 984743+0x184 [ 7] 0x000140D3CCBF Fallout4.exe+0D3CCBF -> 408683+0xDF [ 8] 0x000140D38906 Fallout4.exe+0D38906 -> 1075087+0x206 [ 9] 0x000140D39551 Fallout4.exe+0D39551 -> 633524+0x6F1 [10] 0x000140D36E10 Fallout4.exe+0D36E10 -> 1125396+0xC0 [11] 0x000140D35950 Fallout4.exe+0D35950 -> 668528+0x20 [12] 0x000142937157 Fallout4.exe+2937157 -> 1104651+0x143 [13] 0x00007B62C869 kernel32.dll+002C869 [14] 0x00007BC5FE13 ntdll.dll+005FE13 REGISTERS: RAX 0x0 (size_t) RCX 0x45E0050 (void*) RDX 0x13930F44240522B (size_t) RBX 0x4 (size_t) RSP 0x12F790 (void*) RBP 0x12F920 (void*) RSI 0x12F8F0 (void*) RDI 0x0 (size_t) R8 0x0 (size_t) R9 0x4 (size_t) R10 0x3 (size_t) R11 0x0 (size_t) R12 0x13930F44240522B (size_t) R13 0x45E0050 (void*) R14 0x0 (size_t) R15 0xFBACA600 (void*) STACK: [RSP+0 ] 0x61C5E00 (void*) [RSP+8 ] 0x100000000 (void*) [RSP+10 ] 0x1E3A200 (size_t) [RSP+18 ] 0x45E0050 (void*) [RSP+20 ] 0x2CBA2D50 (void*) [RSP+28 ] 0x359065564 (void* -> d3d11.Dll+0015564) [RSP+30 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+38 ] 0x35906B6C0 (void* -> d3d11.Dll+001B6C0) [RSP+40 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+48 ] 0xF179F100 (void*) [RSP+50 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+58 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+60 ] 0xFBACA688 (void*) [RSP+68 ] 0xFBACA6D0 (void*) [RSP+70 ] 0xFBACA688 (void*) [RSP+78 ] 0x4B12390 (void*) [RSP+80 ] 0x450B68 (char*) "P" [RSP+88 ] 0x141D13CBE (void* -> Fallout4.exe+1D13CBE) [RSP+90 ] 0xF179F100 (void*) [RSP+98 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+A0 ] 0x100000002 (void*) [RSP+A8 ] 0x4 (size_t) [RSP+B0 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+B8 ] 0x12F8F0 (void*) [RSP+C0 ] 0x81 (size_t) [RSP+C8 ] 0x2C588090 (void*) [RSP+D0 ] 0x81 (size_t) [RSP+D8 ] 0x4B123B0 (void*) [RSP+E0 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+E8 ] 0x100000001 (void*) [RSP+F0 ] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+F8 ] 0x35523B10 (void*) [RSP+100] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+108] 0x1B8001E38600 (size_t) [RSP+110] 0xC00000018 (size_t) [RSP+118] 0x661A60 (void*) [RSP+120] 0xFBACA6D0 (void*) [RSP+128] 0xFBACA688 (void*) [RSP+130] 0x7F1B876C6700 (void*) [RSP+138] 0x21C0000021C0 (size_t) [RSP+140] 0x5FEC90 (void*) [RSP+148] 0x450B70 (void*) [RSP+150] 0x2CBA2D50 (void*) [RSP+158] 0xFEC3E690 (void*) [RSP+160] 0x7F1B871EA340 (void*) [RSP+168] 0x3000000030 (size_t) [RSP+170] 0x5FEC90 (void*) [RSP+178] 0x5FEC90 (void*) [RSP+180] 0x5FEC90 (void*) [RSP+188] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+190] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+198] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1A8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1B8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1C0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1C8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1D0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1D8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1E0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+1F8] 0x495A4C8 (BSBatchRenderer*) [RSP+200] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+208] 0x101E (size_t) [RSP+210] 0xF00D4D80 (void*) [RSP+218] 0x4A4E700 (BSDFPrePassShader*) [RSP+220] 0x101E (size_t) [RSP+228] 0x14288018C (void* -> Fallout4.exe+288018C) [RSP+230] 0x6B6EE0A0 (void*) [RSP+238] 0xF00D4E28 (void*) [RSP+240] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+248] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+250] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+258] 0x6B6EE0A0 (void*) [RSP+260] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+268] 0x14287F43C (void* -> Fallout4.exe+287F43C) [RSP+270] 0xA0 (size_t) [RSP+278] 0x495A4C8 (BSBatchRenderer*) [RSP+280] 0x495A528 (void*) [RSP+288] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+290] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+298] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2A8] 0x495A400 (BSShaderAccumulator*) [RSP+2B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2B8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2C0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2C8] 0x4 (size_t) [RSP+2D0] 0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF (size_t) [RSP+2D8] 0x14282EFD5 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+282EFD5) [RSP+2E0] 0x495A4C8 (BSBatchRenderer*) [RSP+2E8] 0x4 (size_t) [RSP+2F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+2F8] 0xFFFFFFFF (void*) [RSP+300] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+308] 0x450A10 (void*) [RSP+310] 0x450050 (void*) [RSP+318] 0x14285101F (void* -> Fallout4.exe+285101F) [RSP+320] 0xB20 (size_t) [RSP+328] 0x4B10840 (void*) [RSP+330] 0x4B123B0 (void*) [RSP+338] 0xB18 (size_t) [RSP+340] 0x3F800000 (void*) [RSP+348] 0x3C23D70A (void*) [RSP+350] 0x3F800000 (void*) [RSP+358] 0x450A10 (void*) [RSP+360] 0x404134F2404134F2 (size_t) [RSP+368] 0x404134F2404134F2 (size_t) [RSP+370] 0x800000003F3A5F16 (size_t) [RSP+378] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+380] 0x3EE8F6DC00000000 (size_t) [RSP+388] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+390] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+398] 0xBF7FFFD100000000 (size_t) [RSP+3A0] 0x3A00D971B9A5A9DC (size_t) [RSP+3A8] 0x3F8000003F800000 (size_t) [RSP+3B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+3B8] 0x142857604 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+2857604) [RSP+3C0] 0x2 (size_t) [RSP+3C8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+3D0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+3D8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+3E0] 0x12FB80 (void*) [RSP+3E8] 0x100000000 (void*) [RSP+3F0] 0xBF2D43103F3BD246 (size_t) [RSP+3F8] 0xBD779390 (void*) [RSP+400] 0xBF2DAEEC3F3B612B (size_t) [RSP+408] 0xBD80C0F8 (void*) [RSP+410] 0x47B81FB5C72BA427 (size_t) [RSP+418] 0x45F6E894 (void*) [RSP+420] 0x47B81B26C72B945E (size_t) [RSP+428] 0x45F6DEBD (void*) [RSP+430] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+438] 0x140D3CCBF (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D3CCBF) [RSP+440] 0x2 (size_t) [RSP+448] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+450] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+458] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+460] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+468] 0x140D38906 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D38906) [RSP+470] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+478] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+480] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+488] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+490] 0xF3211D00 (Actor*) Object Reference: File: "" Flags: 0x00000008 Form ID: 0xFF00F2F7 Form Type: 45 File: "Fallout4.esm" Flags: 0x0040040B Form ID: 0x00100EE3 Form Type: 65 [RSP+498] 0x140093A1B (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0093A1B) [RSP+4A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+4A8] 0x12FD58 (void*) [RSP+4B0] 0x492E780 (ShadowSceneNode*) Name: "shadow scene node" [RSP+4B8] 0x2879E2E (void* -> Buffout4.dll+0049E2E) [RSP+4C0] 0xD2075818 (void*) [RSP+4C8] 0x1404807E3 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+04807E3) [RSP+4D0] 0x142C4A948 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+2C4A948) [RSP+4D8] 0x4967D88 (void*) [RSP+4E0] 0x9C0 (size_t) [RSP+4E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+4F0] 0x12FD00 (void*) [RSP+4F8] 0x140D41B5F (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D41B5F) [RSP+500] 0xF3211D00 (Actor*) Object Reference: File: "" Flags: 0x00000008 Form ID: 0xFF00F2F7 Form Type: 45 File: "Fallout4.esm" Flags: 0x0040040B Form ID: 0x00100EE3 Form Type: 65 [RSP+508] 0x10E8A2880 (void*) [RSP+510] 0x4967D88 (void*) [RSP+518] 0x12FD58 (void*) [RSP+520] 0x4531D8E0C58B7348 (size_t) [RSP+528] 0x43A2ED90 (void*) [RSP+530] 0x4A095440 (void*) [RSP+538] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+540] 0x2 (size_t) [RSP+548] 0x140D3AADC (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D3AADC) [RSP+550] 0x10E8A2884 (void*) [RSP+558] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+560] 0x2 (size_t) [RSP+568] 0xF3211D00 (Actor*) Object Reference: File: "" Flags: 0x00000008 Form ID: 0xFF00F2F7 Form Type: 45 File: "Fallout4.esm" Flags: 0x0040040B Form ID: 0x00100EE3 Form Type: 65 [RSP+570] 0x12FD50 (void*) [RSP+578] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+580] 0x429BE0CC (void*) [RSP+588] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+590] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+598] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+5A0] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+5A8] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+5B0] 0x4967D80 (Main*) [RSP+5B8] 0x140D39551 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D39551) [RSP+5C0] 0x145A66DD0 (UI*) [RSP+5C8] 0x294FD9 (void*) [RSP+5D0] 0x145A66DD0 (UI*) [RSP+5D8] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+5E0] 0x1 (size_t) [RSP+5E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+5F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+5F8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+600] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+608] 0x140D36E10 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D36E10) [RSP+610] 0x600FE (void*) [RSP+618] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+620] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+628] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+630] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+638] 0x140D35950 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+0D35950) [RSP+640] 0x3C1D1A (void*) [RSP+648] 0x600FE (void*) [RSP+650] 0x647621D6 (void*) [RSP+658] 0x3C1D1A (void*) [RSP+660] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+668] 0x142937157 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+2937157) [RSP+670] 0x3C1D19 (char*) """ [RSP+678] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+680] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+688] 0xA (size_t) [RSP+690] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+698] 0x3C1D1A (void*) [RSP+6A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6A8] 0x7B62C869 (void* -> kernel32.dll+002C869) [RSP+6B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6B8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6C0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6C8] 0x205C510 (void* -> usvfs_x64.dll+007C510) [RSP+6D0] 0xA0009 (void*) [RSP+6D8] 0x7BC5FE13 (void* -> ntdll.dll+005FE13) [RSP+6E0] 0x590C30 (void*) [RSP+6E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+6F8] 0x3F0000 (void*) [RSP+700] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+708] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+710] 0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF (size_t) [RSP+718] 0x7BC6B020 (void* -> ntdll.dll+006B020) [RSP+720] 0x7BC25A30 (void* -> ntdll.dll+0025A30) [RSP+728] 0xF (size_t) [RSP+730] 0x12FEA0 (void*) [RSP+738] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+740] 0x12FE70 (void*) [RSP+748] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+750] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+758] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+760] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+768] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+770] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+778] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+780] 0x7BC5FDCE (void* -> ntdll.dll+005FDCE) [RSP+788] 0x27F00001FA0 (size_t) [RSP+790] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+798] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7A0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7A8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7B0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7B8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7C0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7C8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7D0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7D8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7E0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7E8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7F0] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+7F8] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+800] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+808] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+810] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+818] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+820] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+828] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+830] 0x7BC5FD90 (void* -> ntdll.dll+005FD90) [RSP+838] 0x202 (size_t) [RSP+840] 0x7BC5FD90 (void* -> ntdll.dll+005FD90) [RSP+848] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+850] 0x146CB9310 (void* -> Fallout4.exe+6CB9310) [RSP+858] 0x67FF0000 (void*) [RSP+860] 0x0 (size_t) [RSP+868] 0x0 (size_t) MODULES: F4SE PLUGINS: Buffout4.dll v1.26.2 IpHlpAPI.dll mcm.dll XDI.dll PLUGINS: [00] Fallout4.esm [01] DLCRobot.esm [02] DLCworkshop01.esm [03] DLCCoast.esm [04] DLCworkshop02.esm [05] DLCworkshop03.esm [06] DLCNukaWorld.esm [07] unofficial fallout 4 patch.esp [08] armorkeywords.esm [09] XDI.esm [0A] workshopframework.esm [0B] NukaWorldPlus.esp [0C] moreuniques.esp [0D] clothingoverhaul.esp [0E] armorsmith extended.esp [0F] Stm_DiamondCityExpansion.esp [10] FaceMaxson.esp [11] CombatZoneRestored.esp [12] CombinedArmsNV.esp [13] CombinedArmsEXPack.esp [14] brotherhood_of_steel_overhaul.esp [15] 3dscopes-goty.esp [16] dd-enhanced blood basic.esp [17] everyonesbestfriend.esp [18] improved map with visible roads.esp [19] k9tacticalharness.esp [1A] moddablerobotsettlers.esp [1B] Vivid Fallout - All in One - Best Choice.esp [1C] CombatRifleOverhaul.esp [1D] constructible_faction_guards.esp [1E] the deadly commonwealth expansion.esp [1F] gashelmetsdlc.esp [20] alienassaultrifle.esp [21] radioactivestories.esp [22] Reinforcements.esp [23] militarizedminutemen.esp [24] Skb_RiflesRebirth.esp [25] Mercenary.esp [26] westtektacticaloptics.esp [27] NVUMP.esp [28] expchineserifle.esp [29] institute_overhaul.esp [2A] corvalhowidowshotgun.esp [2B] VUWR - AlternativeEdition.esp [2C] Tec-9.esp [2D] mk14.esp [2E] F4NVServiceRifleRedux.esp [2F] LAER.esp [30] MK18.esp [31] WattzLaserGun.esp [32] stumbleuponinteriors.esp [33] Wana_SA58.esp [34] p99.esp [35] dinoshelf.esp [36] FunctionalDisplays-Collectibles.esp [37] FunctionalDisplays.esp [38] more fortifications.esp [39] postwarpowerarmordisplays.esp [3A] power_armor_overhaul.esp [3B] prewarpowerarmordisplays.esp [3C] skipdimaspuzzles.esp [3D] skkcombatstalkers.esp [3E] vanillacraftingexpansion.esp [3F] upgradeable bos outfits.esp [40] M1Garand.esp [41] UniquePAFrames.esp [42] HandmadeLeverActionSG.esp [43] LeeEnfieldNo4MkI.esp [44] RU556.esp [45] ElMudoStore.esp [46] SigMCX.esp [47] Quad_Technetronic.esp [48] AAMWA2k.esp [49] DakSurvivalHatchet.esp [4A] ReversedWorkshopShader.esp [4B] WestTek.esp [4C] XM2010_SniperRifle_by_tooun.esp [4D] RussianAssaultPack.esp [4E] MP7.esp [4F] WinCowbowRepeater.esp [50] M1A.esp [51] KrissVector.esp [52] G3Family.esp [53] M1Garand - AWKCR.esp [54] LAER Automatron Weapons.esp [55] LAER-Armorsmith_Patch.esp [56] HK_UMP.esp [57] HK_MP5.esp [58] GIAT_FAMAS.esp [59] 9x39Project.esp [5A] 9x39ProjectAWKCR.esp [5B] GrafsSecurityFencesNoMenu.esp [5C] Scopes.esp [5D] QMW-CAE-ALLINONE.esp [5E] QMW-3DM82A3.esp [5F] QMW-3DSCOPEAUG.esp [60] QMW-3DSCOPEM249.esp [61] QMW-3DSCOPEMK12.esp [62] QMW-3DSCOPESPAS12.esp [63] QMW-3DSCOPEVSS.esp [64] QMW-CAG36.esp [65] QWM-3DSCOPE550.esp [66] QWM-CAAKM.esp [67] SIGMCXArmoryProject.esp [68] SIGMCXArmoryProject2.esp [69] skkfaststartnewgame.esp [6A] eli_faction housing overhaul - aio.esp [FE:000] ccbgsfo4015-pipyell.esl [FE:001] ccbgsfo4034-powerarmorskinyellow.esl [FE:002] LIF.esl [FE:003] Dank_WesternRevolver.esl [FE:004] CombinedArmsIntegrationProject.esp [FE:005] FAR.esp [FE:006] CROSS_BrotherhoodRecon.esp [FE:007] CROSS_BreakActionLaser.esp [FE:008] Dank_9x39.esp [FE:009] Dank_CowboyRepeater.esp [FE:00A] Dank_FAMAS.esp [FE:00B] Dank_FNFALSA58.esp [FE:00C] Dank_G3Family.esp [FE:00D] Dank_KrissVector.esp [FE:00E] Dank_LAER.esp [FE:00F] Dank_LeeEnfield.esp [FE:010] Dank_M1A.esp [FE:011] Dank_M1Garand.esp [FE:012] Dank_MK18.esp [FE:013] Dank_MP5.esp [FE:014] Dank_MP7.esp [FE:015] Dank_RU556.esp [FE:016] Dank_RussianAssaultPack.esp [FE:017] Dank_ServiceRifle.esp [FE:018] Dank_UMP.esp [FE:019] Dank_Wattz.esp [FE:01A] Dank_XM2010.esp [FE:01B] CombinedArmsNV - BLD Patch.esp [FE:01C] CombinedArmsIntegrationProject - BLD Patch.esp [FE:01D] CombinedArmsEXPack - BLD Patch.esp
also i dont think im able to use the buffout auto scanner so if someone could do that for me it would be greatly appreciated
2023.05.30 18:39 DragonSlayer-2020 I found this somewhat of a glitch on Dead Cells.
I discovered this completely by accident a week ago. I was trying to defeat HoTK and died. I immediately exit the game and turned off my switch. I picked the game an hour later and it brought me back to the HoTK again. It was weird and I've been abusing this power for a few times to fix my mistakes in runs.
So I think how it happens when you die and exit out the game and close it. And immediately go back in and press continue. I'm pretty sure the game couldn't register if you died or not and justvspawn you back at the beginning of the biome like nothing happened.
I apologize for abusing this glitch to cheat on a few of my runs.
submitted by DragonSlayer-2020 to deadcells [link] [comments]
So I think how it happens when you die and exit out the game and close it. And immediately go back in and press continue. I'm pretty sure the game couldn't register if you died or not and justvspawn you back at the beginning of the biome like nothing happened.
I apologize for abusing this glitch to cheat on a few of my runs.
2023.05.30 18:18 Halcyon520 Thoughts on the Win600
 | I purchased my Win600 in kind of a bad time in my life, I was away from home and having a rough time and wanted something to work on (building a list of games an curating them) submitted by Halcyon520 to SBCGaming [link] [comments] I didn’t do as much research as I should have but saw Anbernic was well enjoyed and I wanted the most powerful one there was. (Could not get a steam deck in the time I was where I was at) I got it and was happy, had a little buyers remorse but that’s normal. I have been playing around on this thing pretty consistently for about a month and wanted to give my thoughts (for what ever it is worth) If you ever get one of these things I would recommend the following, get the 16gb 3200mhz ram. (If the system doesn’t have it I got mine for 30€ on Amazon) this helps the performance. I took windows off instantly and had a Steam OS with Batocera on a USB stick for about a month. I might be “one of those perfectionist gamers” but there wasn’t much I could do on this with Steam OS that I wanted. I tried playing Oblivion and the game ran fine but I could not get a play control that worked, I tried playing Civ 5 but again could not get a play control to work. I was able to play the pixel remasters of The FF games and Dead cells but there was more misses then hits. On Steam OS and mostly due to the play control (I wasn’t trying to play high end games at all really) I found my self playing Batocera more and more. I ended up buying a 512gb Solid state drive and putting that in there. I loaded Batocera direct and as my only boot option. (I might be dumb but when I had the USB Batocera and Steam OS SSD. I could get the USB to boot first but if the USB was out of the socket it would go to Steam OS and then “forget” to check the USB next time so I couldn’t really find a “turn key” solution to booting off USB consistently or SSD, I always was changing the boot order or manually choosing at start up) Because I spent more time in Batocera that’s what I flashed on the 512SSD. (65€ on Amazon) I think Batocera is the best option for this thing because it walks the great line of customization and low back end to keep performance as high as possible (at least in my mind) I am pretty happy with the WiiU PS2 and XBOX OG performance (Not always perfect but pretty good) So after all of that I think I have a really good use case for this device and would recommend Batocera to anyone who has one of these. Thoughts, suggestions or questions, totally welcome 😄 TL DR: For me the best thing to do with the Win600 is load Batocera direct onto the SSD I found that more useful and fun than Windows or Steam OS |
2023.05.30 18:17 ChaoticMindsStudio Portable Roguelikes and Roguelites: Did I Skip Any Worthwhile Titles?
 | submitted by ChaoticMindsStudio to roguelikes [link] [comments] |
2023.05.30 18:10 R3dn3ck3r Dead Cells - Giant Killer showcase (not great, not terrible)
 | submitted by R3dn3ck3r to deadcells [link] [comments] |
2023.05.30 18:05 BLHero Considering Two Starter Boxes and Custom Scenarios -- Doomed or Has Potential?
Thank you all for answering some questions over the weekend. After watching some YouTube, reading through the rules, and finally proxying some Starter Boxes to try the game myself I think I have a plan.
(I'm the person that wants to eventually play normal Malifaux, but also find some way to play it solo in less than an hour.)
Crudely summarizing, the plan is to start by purchasing Starter Boxes for Ten Thunders, Bayou, and Arcanist, and then for solo play think not in terms of the normal Strategies and Schemes but to use some custom scenarios.
As examples:
Or have folks already tried this and it does not work for some reason I cannot yet forsee.
(I'm not saying it could be as satisfying as a normal two-player game. Just trying to make something worthy for exploring crew interactions, for a new player currently without a Malifaux in-person community.)
submitted by BLHero to Malifaux [link] [comments]
(I'm the person that wants to eventually play normal Malifaux, but also find some way to play it solo in less than an hour.)
Crudely summarizing, the plan is to start by purchasing Starter Boxes for Ten Thunders, Bayou, and Arcanist, and then for solo play think not in terms of the normal Strategies and Schemes but to use some custom scenarios.
As examples:
- Prison Escape on a map like the Paizo Prison Flip-Mat. One team starts in a hallway beside jail cells. The other team starts at the prison exit with bonus equipment. Only the escaping team scores points: for opening enough jail cell doors, making the most progress towards the exit, and having models alive at the end of three turns. After three turns, reset the game with roles switched.
- Steampunk Cleanup on a map with obstacle in the center. Proxy a bunch of Gearlings around the map. Whichever team deals the most damage to Gearlings wins. During each turn, damage caused by later activations counts slightly more towards points so Pass tokens do not lose value.
- Equip the Wimp Arena on a map where random weapons appear each round on the map in known locations, only usable by the two wimpiest models on each team. Scheme marker are dropped to create spawn points where a dead "wimp" may be re-summoned during the Resolve Effects step of Start Phase.
- Train Race on a map of train cars. Secretly pick which model starts on the map in the caboose, the others are reinforcements that can be summoned by dropping a scheme token that remains until End Phase. In each train car both teams can interact once to score a point (they are searching for McGuffins). Interacting twice where train cars connect separates those cars during End Phase which makes the rearward portion of the train removed from play!
Or have folks already tried this and it does not work for some reason I cannot yet forsee.
(I'm not saying it could be as satisfying as a normal two-player game. Just trying to make something worthy for exploring crew interactions, for a new player currently without a Malifaux in-person community.)
2023.05.30 18:04 bobwvng [H] Bundle leftovers, Destiny 2: Lightfall, F1 2020, more [W] Megaman Legacy 2, Soulslike leftovers, offers
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2023.05.30 18:04 bobwvng [H] Bundle leftovers, Destiny 2: Lightfall, F1 2020, more [W] Megaman Legacy 2, Soulslike leftovers, offers
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- 11-11: MEMORIES RETOLD
- 112 Operator
- 99Vidas
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- Absolute Drift
- Agatha Cristie Abc Murders
- Anomaly II
- Archery Practice VR
- ATOM RPG Trudograd
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- Axis Football 2021
- Between the Stars
- Bridge Constructor
- Crypts of Anak Shaba
- Deiland: Pocket Planet
- Desperados III
- Destiny 2: Lightfall
- Dirt 4
- Dolmen
- Dungeon of Elements
- ENDLESS Space - Definitive Edition
- Ethernal
- Evan's Remains
- F1 2018
- F1 2020
- Farmer's Dynasty
- Fort Triumph
- Garage: Bad Trip
- Gas Station Simulator
- Get Even
- Getting Over It with Bennett Foddy
- Ghostrunner
- Golf with your friends
- Gone Home + Original Soundtrack
- Grimstar: Welcome to the savage planet
- Hack N Slash
- Hammerting
- Heads Will Roll: Downfall
- Hearts of Iron IV Cadet Edition
- Hell Let Loose
- HOT WHEELS UNLEASHED™
- Hotshot Racing
- ibb and obb (steam gift)
- Internet Cafe Simulator
- Iron Harvest
- Isonzo
- Just Die Already
- Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes
- Kingdoms of Amalur: Re-Reckoning FATE Edition
- Land of Puzzles Elven Princess
- Land of Puzzles Knights
- Last Inua
- Last Oasis
- Lawn Mowing Simulator
- Legend of Keepers
- Legion TD 2
- Leisure Suit Larry - Retro Bundle
- Lovecraft's Untold Stories
- Mahjong
- Mass Effect: Legendary Edition
- Megabyte Punch
- Metro Exodus
- Midnight Protocol
- Moo Lander
- Morendar Goblin Slayer
- Mountain
- mummification
- NARUTO TO BORUTO: SHINOBI STRIKER
- Nebuchadnezzar
- OSK - The End of Time
- OUT OF REACH
- Outward
- Overcooked - The Lost Morsel
- Paradise Lost
- Peaky Blinders: Mastermind
- Plane Mechanic Simulator
- Plunder Panic
- POLE
- Professor Watts Memory Match Cute Animals
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- Puzzle Monarch Egypt
- Puzzle Monarch Forests
- Puzzle Monarch Mummy
- Puzzle Monarch Nile River
- Puzzle Monarch Vampires
- Quadrant M4
- Quixzel Rush Halloween Party
- Randal's Monday
- Red Solstice 2: Survivors
- Reventure
- Ring of Pain
- RING RUNNER FLIGHT OF THE SAGES
- Rogue Heroes: Ruins of Tasos
- Rustler
- S.W.I.N.E. HD Remaster
- Scorn
- Scribble It! Premium Edition DLC
- Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun - Aiko's Choice
- Shape of the World
- Sid Meier's Civilization V: Complete
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- Softened Cookie
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- Stacking
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2023.05.30 17:53 SchrodingersSmilodon (Spoilers Extended) A unified theory of the Others, the Long Night, the Horn of Winter, and Bloodraven, Part 4
This is the third in a series of posts, in which I present a theory on the history of the Others. You can read part one here, part two here, and part three here.
My previous posts came with a disclaimer, which I'm going to copy-paste below:
In a certain sense, I am both a new and an old fan of ASOIAF. I read the books about ten years ago, enjoyed them, and then barely thought about them ever again after putting them down. Then, HotD got me interested in the series again, and I ended up going down the rabbit hole of fan theories, speculation about future books, details that I missed on my first reading, etc., which has been a lot of fun! But I’ve only read the series once, and it was ten years ago, so a lot of my memories are pretty fuzzy. Honestly, a lot of my knowledge comes from the wiki (although I have gone back and reread certain important chapters). All of this is to say, I am not the most knowledgeable person to be coming up with fan theories, and the fact that I’m posting this at all probably indicates a certain amount of Dunning-Kruger effect. Take everything I say here with a grain of salt, and please let me know if there’s something obvious that my ignorance has caused me to miss. Other than that, let me know what you think!
But I also need to include another disclaimer: I came up with this theory before I became aware of the idea that Bloodraven wasn't the three-eyed crow, and, as such, this theory assumes that Bloodraven is the three-eyed crow. To be honest, I'm becoming increasingly sympathetic to the idea that Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, but I'm still undecided. If Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, that will poke a few holes in this theory, but I ultimately think it wouldn't be too big of a problem. After all, the 3EC led Bran to Bloodraven, so they must share at least some goals. So, I ask that you assume for the purposes of this post that Bloodraven is the 3EC, with the understanding that, if it turns out that Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, this theory will need some minor amending. I've already been thinking about theories on that topic, so, if and when I finish such a theory, I'll post it and discuss how it modifies this theory. But that's getting ahead of ourselves. For now…
I suspect that that First Men faction was none other than the Stark Kings of Winter; this would explain why it's called the Horn of Winter in the first place. Regardless of which group of First Men was responsible, however, it's easy to see why they did it: the Horn of Winter is a powerful weapon, and any faction of First Men would have been happy to have such a weapon in their possession. So the interesting question isn't, "Why did the First Men work with the CotF to create the Horn of Winter?" The interesting question is, "Why did the CotF work with the First Men to create the Horn of Winter?" Why would the CotF give the First Men a weapon capable of destroying the Wall?
Let's take a step back and recall the role that the CotF played in the events leading up to the construction of the Wall. Their lands were invaded by the First Men, and I argued in my first post that they responded by creating the Others as a race of slave soldiers to fight the First Men. After the Pact ended the war between the CotF and the First Men, the CotF kept the Others enslaved and/or hunted down the free ones in the Lands of Always Winter. Then the Long Night came, and I argued in my second post that the Others took advantage of it by attacking the First Men, killing them en masse in order to grow their power, with the ultimate goal of attacking the CotF. Eventually, the CotF participated in the peace agreement that ended the Long Night. But it's worth remembering that the CotF only interceded in the conflict between humans and Others at the urging of the Last Hero:
You may be wondering, why didn't the CotF just destroy the Wall using the Hammer of the Waters? The problem with doing that is that the Hammer of the Waters is distinctly CotF magic, so destroying the Wall with the Hammer of the Waters would have pointed right back to the CotF. The humans and the Others would have known that the CotF were trying to provoke them back into war, and they would have naturally resisted those efforts. The way around this is to give humans access to the same magic as the Hammer of the Waters. That way, when the humans use that magic near the Wall, it will be the humans who are responsible for destroying the Wall. Helping the First Men create the Horn of Winter was therefore a way for the CotF to end the peace between humanity and the Others, all while maintaining plausible deniability. And it kind of worked; the Horn of Winter did destroy the western part of the Wall. But this didn't result in the human-Other war that the CotF wanted, because, as I argued in my previous post, the Others' queen was taken captive at the same time as the destruction of the Wall, and she's been used as a hostage to keep the peace ever since.
This raises the question, if the CotF wanted humans to defeat the Others, why didn't they help the humans during the Long Night (at least, prior to the Last Hero's involvement)? Well, once again, we need to consider the psychology of the CotF. We know the CotF are willing to fight incredibly bloody wars, as they did against the First Men, but we also know that they won't keep fighting in a hopeless circumstance simply to spite their enemy, in the way that humans will. In situations where they are faced with assured destruction, they react with sad acceptance, not defiance. The fact that the CotF didn't initially participate in the war against the Others during the Long Night indicates that they must have viewed that war as hopeless. The Others were sweeping south, massacring humans, converting their boys into more Others and raising the rest as wights, constantly growing stronger; the CotF must have concluded that there was nothing they could do, no way to survive the Long Night. They didn't just roll over and die, but they weren't about to fight the Others when they had no chance of success. The CotF most likely hid, guarding themselves with magic, waiting to die a slow death—just like they're doing today.
Fortunately for the CotF, the Long Night did not end in their extinction. As I argued in my second post, Azor Ahai negotiated a peace treaty that ended the Long Night. But, as part of that peace treaty, the Others received a queen, the first female member of their species (whom I've been referring to as the Night's Queen). This allowed the Others to reproduce sexually, as opposed to their earlier method of kidnapping human children, and as a result the Others' population would have begun increasing dramatically following the Long Night. So, on the one hand, the Others were no longer benefitting from the Long Night, meaning they were more vulnerable than they had been prior to the peace treaty. But, at the same time, the Others were growing more powerful, as their population rose. For the first time since the Long Night began, the CotF could now hope for victory in a war with them and the humans on one side and the Others on the other side, but they had a very narrow window in which to act, before the Others became too powerful. That's why they only began making moves against the Others after the Long Night; during the Long Night the Others were too strong to be realistically opposed, and before the Long Night the Others weren't seen as a significant threat. Once the Long Night ended, however, the CotF got to work, by helping to make the Horn of Winter and by providing the Night's Watch with obsidian.
But, while the CotF might have successfully averted the risk posed by the Others, they failed to do the same with the humans. Leaf, and presumably the other CotF, fully recognize that humanity's expansion is going to drive them extinct. This has massive implications for the CotF's goals and motivations. The fact that the CotF are aware of and resigned to their inevitable extinction means that self-preservation is no longer a concern for them. They might have been motivated by self-preservation following the end of the Long Night, but not anymore. Whatever the CotF are doing nowadays, they're doing it because there's something they want to accomplish before they vanish as a species. And I do think that the CotF are trying to accomplish something, partly because characters that don't want anything are boring, and partly because Bloodraven is clearly up to something, and the CotF are supporting him. So, if they're not motivated by self-preservation, what are the CotF trying to do?
A common idea I've heard is that Bloodraven and the CotF want to prevent the Others from destroying the world in a second Long Night. I think there's an element of truth to this (especially considering the lengths the CotF have already gone to to oppose the Others), but I don't think it's the whole story. Consider this: if the CotF want to prevent the Others from conquering Westeros, but they're not motivated by self-preservation, then they must be motivated by some combination of altruism and guilt. They created the Others, then the Others got out of hand, to the point where they threatened all of Westeros, and now the CotF feel responsible for making sure they don't do that again. That's reasonable, even noble, but it can't be limited to merely defeating the Others in this latest confrontation. If all that comes of this current conflict with the Others is that the Others are prevented from conquering Westeros, then who's to say that the Others won't try to conquer Westeros a third time in another 8,000 years? And by the time that happens, the CotF will be extinct, so they won't be around to help with that conflict. Simply defeating the Others and thwarting their plans would be a temporary solution to a permanent problem, and, with the CotF facing their own extinction, they would see now as a time for permanent solutions. And when the problem in question is the existence of the Others, there can be only one solution: The CotF want to wipe out the Others completely. I suspect they wanted this ever since the Long Night; they probably see it as cleaning up after their mess. Now, with their extinction looming, that plan to genocide the Others has been made a priority.
I know that my logic has involved jumping around in time a lot, so, as a summary, let me present this handy timeline of the CotF's thoughts on the Others:
To grossly oversimplify a complex series of events, Winterfell's vulnerability can be traced back to two events:
More significantly, Bloodraven removed Bran's memory of Jaime pushing him from the tower:
Later, when Theon takes Winterfell, he wakes up suddenly in the middle of the night, and he gets the feeling that someone was responsible for waking him:
Of course, putting Winterfell in a vulnerable position only matters if the Others know about that vulnerability. Bloodraven must have some communication with the Others. I'm not sure what this communication looks like; if the Others can dream, then it might just mean sending them green dreams prophesying Winterfell's coming vulnerability. Alternatively, Bloodraven might be communicating with them directly by skinchanging into a raven. Maybe he's posing as a human traitor, willing to sell out the humans and the CotF, a kind of second Night's King? This is definitely the biggest missing piece in my theory, but I don't think it's too outlandish to posit Bloodraven has some means of getting information to the Others, and that he's thereby clued the Others in on Winterfell's coming vulnerability.
Given his undying Targaryen loyalty, Bloodraven must be psyched about the coming war between the humans and the Others. Daenerys is coming with three dragons, which will be humanity's best hope for defeating the Others; Westeros will naturally rally behind Daenerys, solidifying her rule. Moreover, dragons will be seen as the saviors of Westeros, rather than as dangerous weapons. If Marwyn was right that the maesters killed the dragons, then this would prevent a similar conspiracy from arising and driving the dragons back into extinction, since the dragons would now be seen as necessary for Westeros's security against the forces of evil. So while Bloodraven wants to provoke a war between humans and Others, just like the CotF do, he wants this for a different reason than they do; Bloodraven wants to use the Others to bring about a lasting Targaryen restoration.
submitted by SchrodingersSmilodon to asoiaf [link] [comments]
My previous posts came with a disclaimer, which I'm going to copy-paste below:
In a certain sense, I am both a new and an old fan of ASOIAF. I read the books about ten years ago, enjoyed them, and then barely thought about them ever again after putting them down. Then, HotD got me interested in the series again, and I ended up going down the rabbit hole of fan theories, speculation about future books, details that I missed on my first reading, etc., which has been a lot of fun! But I’ve only read the series once, and it was ten years ago, so a lot of my memories are pretty fuzzy. Honestly, a lot of my knowledge comes from the wiki (although I have gone back and reread certain important chapters). All of this is to say, I am not the most knowledgeable person to be coming up with fan theories, and the fact that I’m posting this at all probably indicates a certain amount of Dunning-Kruger effect. Take everything I say here with a grain of salt, and please let me know if there’s something obvious that my ignorance has caused me to miss. Other than that, let me know what you think!
But I also need to include another disclaimer: I came up with this theory before I became aware of the idea that Bloodraven wasn't the three-eyed crow, and, as such, this theory assumes that Bloodraven is the three-eyed crow. To be honest, I'm becoming increasingly sympathetic to the idea that Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, but I'm still undecided. If Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, that will poke a few holes in this theory, but I ultimately think it wouldn't be too big of a problem. After all, the 3EC led Bran to Bloodraven, so they must share at least some goals. So, I ask that you assume for the purposes of this post that Bloodraven is the 3EC, with the understanding that, if it turns out that Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, this theory will need some minor amending. I've already been thinking about theories on that topic, so, if and when I finish such a theory, I'll post it and discuss how it modifies this theory. But that's getting ahead of ourselves. For now…
Part 4: Bloodraven
Making First Men horny
One of the most powerful pieces of magic we're told of in ASOIAF is the Hammer of the Waters. This is a spell that causes powerful earthquakes, capable of radically reshaping the geography where it's used. The Children of the Forest are said to have used the Hammer of the Waters on at least two occasions: once to flood the Neck, and once to break the Arm of Dorne. I argued in my previous post that the Horn of Winter contains the same magic as the Hammer of the Waters, and that when Joramun blew the Horn of Winter the resulting earthquake destroyed the western section of the Wall and created the Gorge. However, while the Horn of Winter replicates the magic of the Hammer of the Waters, that doesn't mean the Horn of Winter was the original Hammer of the Waters; that is to say, I don't think that the Horn of Winter was used to flood the Neck or break the Arm of Dorne. There are a few reasons why the Horn probably wasn't responsible for these historical events:- The Horn of Winter is probably the same horn that's currently in Sam's possession (link to a series of posts that analyzes the Horn of Winter and lays out this argument), and that horn is banded in bronze. The CotF didn't work with bronze.
- TWOIAF described how the CotF brought about the Hammer of the Waters, and it had nothing to do with sounding a horn. Supposedly, it was your standard blood sacrifice deal: kill a bunch of people, and in exchange a powerful magical effect will occur. While the Horn of Winter might kill the person who blew it (in the same way Dragonbinder does), we have no reason to believe it requires a mass sacrifice.
- Creating the Gorge, while no mean feat, is much less impressive than breaking the Arm of Dorne or flooding the Neck. The Horn of Winter appears to be a weaker version of the Hammer of the Waters.
I suspect that that First Men faction was none other than the Stark Kings of Winter; this would explain why it's called the Horn of Winter in the first place. Regardless of which group of First Men was responsible, however, it's easy to see why they did it: the Horn of Winter is a powerful weapon, and any faction of First Men would have been happy to have such a weapon in their possession. So the interesting question isn't, "Why did the First Men work with the CotF to create the Horn of Winter?" The interesting question is, "Why did the CotF work with the First Men to create the Horn of Winter?" Why would the CotF give the First Men a weapon capable of destroying the Wall?
Let's take a step back and recall the role that the CotF played in the events leading up to the construction of the Wall. Their lands were invaded by the First Men, and I argued in my first post that they responded by creating the Others as a race of slave soldiers to fight the First Men. After the Pact ended the war between the CotF and the First Men, the CotF kept the Others enslaved and/or hunted down the free ones in the Lands of Always Winter. Then the Long Night came, and I argued in my second post that the Others took advantage of it by attacking the First Men, killing them en masse in order to grow their power, with the ultimate goal of attacking the CotF. Eventually, the CotF participated in the peace agreement that ended the Long Night. But it's worth remembering that the CotF only interceded in the conflict between humans and Others at the urging of the Last Hero:
"Now these were the days before the Andals came, and long before the women fled across the narrow sea from the cities of the Rhoyne, and the hundred kingdoms of those times were the kingdoms of the First Men, who had taken these lands from the children of the forest. Yet here and there in the fastness of the woods the children still lived in their wooden cities and hollow hills, and the faces in the trees kept watch. So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost." (AGOT, Bran IV)Prior to the Last Hero, the CotF seem to have been content to sit back and watch the humans and the Others kill each other—which, considering the history of those three species, is understandable. (According to Sam, the CotF did at one point give obsidian daggers to the Night's Watch, so the CotF did get involved in the conflict between the humans and the Others eventually, but this probably didn't happen until after the Last Hero made contact with them. Old Nan says that the Last Hero had to go on a quest of some difficulty to make contact with the CotF; presumably, this wouldn't have been necessary if the CotF were already giving obsidian daggers to the Night's Watch, because then the Last Hero could have just gone to the Night's Watch and gotten in contact with the CotF that way. So, for most if not all of the Long Night, the CotF did not provide humans with obsidian weapons, meaning that they truly were uninvolved in the conflict between the two species.) I argued in my second post that the peace agreement between the First Men and the Others was an essential part of ending the Long Night, and that this was facilitated by the Last Hero/Azor Ahai. The CotF's absence in the conflict between the humans and the Others prior to the Last Hero's involvement suggests that the CotF had no desire to see the humans and the Others make peace. They only facilitated a peace agreement because it was necessary in order to end the Long Night. The Long Night was an existential threat to the CotF, both because the forests can't survive in an eternal night and because the Others might eventually become powerful enough to threaten the CotF. So the CotF needed to end the Long Night, and ending the Long Night necessitated a peace agreement between humans and Others. It's very easy to imagine that the Last Hero's pitch to the CotF went something like, "Look, I know there's no love lost between you and humanity, and certainly none between you and the Others. But the Long Night isn't going to end unless all three species work together, and the Long Night will kill you guys, just as it will kill humanity. For your own sake, work with us to end this." Clearly, this argument was persuasive. But, once the Long Night ended, the CotF no longer had any reason to care about peace between the humans and the Others—a peace that only existed thanks to the Wall, which was partially destroyed by the Horn of Winter, which the CotF helped to create. The logical conclusion is that the CotF made the Horn of Winter in order to destroy the Wall and renew the war between the humans and the Others. The CotF weren't unconcerned observers to the human-Other war; they actively wanted the two species to fight.
You may be wondering, why didn't the CotF just destroy the Wall using the Hammer of the Waters? The problem with doing that is that the Hammer of the Waters is distinctly CotF magic, so destroying the Wall with the Hammer of the Waters would have pointed right back to the CotF. The humans and the Others would have known that the CotF were trying to provoke them back into war, and they would have naturally resisted those efforts. The way around this is to give humans access to the same magic as the Hammer of the Waters. That way, when the humans use that magic near the Wall, it will be the humans who are responsible for destroying the Wall. Helping the First Men create the Horn of Winter was therefore a way for the CotF to end the peace between humanity and the Others, all while maintaining plausible deniability. And it kind of worked; the Horn of Winter did destroy the western part of the Wall. But this didn't result in the human-Other war that the CotF wanted, because, as I argued in my previous post, the Others' queen was taken captive at the same time as the destruction of the Wall, and she's been used as a hostage to keep the peace ever since.
Child psychology
I've argued that the CotF wanted the humans and Others to fight, but I haven't explained why they'd want that. The easy answer is that the CotF have grievances with both the humans and the Others, so they wanted bloodshed between the two. But we shouldn't accept that easy answer too readily. If we're going to understand what the CotF want, we're going to have to get inside their heads. The books tell us about at least one way in which CotF psychology differs from human psychology:"That was in the dawn of days, when our sun was rising. Now it sinks, and this is our long dwindling. The giants are almost gone as well, they who were our bane and our brothers. The great lions of the western hills have been slain, the unicorns are all but gone, the mammoths down to a few hundred. The direwolves will outlast us all, but their time will come as well. In the world that men have made, there is no room for them, or us."So we're told that vengeance and spite aren't really a thing for the CotF, or at least not in the way that they are for humans. I've heard some people suggest that Leaf might be lying here, and that the CotF actually do want vengeance, but I don't think so, for a couple of reasons. First, and this is purely personal preference, I think it's a lot more interesting if the CotF don't think in the same way that humans do. If you're going to have multiple sentient species in your story, and they all think and behave in the same way, then it kind of defeats the purpose of having multiple species in the first place, doesn't it? If the CotF think and act just like humans do, I would personally find that boring. Secondly, and more importantly, we know that the CotF employ at least one human, Bloodraven, as a greenseer. This is a position of importance and confidence in CotF society, and it gives Bloodraven access to immense information. If the CotF were really planning on taking vengeance on humanity, then it's unlikely that they would be able to hide that information from Bloodraven (and any other human greenseers the CotF had; we don't know if Bloodraven was the only one), and it's unlikely that Bloodraven would help the CotF destroy or harm his own species. So the fact that the CotF rely on Bloodraven (and possibly other human greenseers in the past) suggests that the CotF genuinely don't wish any ill will on humanity, just as Leaf said. And if the CotF don't wish any ill will on humanity today, then they also probably didn't wish any ill will on humanity at the time they made the Horn of Winter—that was back when humans still held to the Pact, so the CotF would have had fewer grievances back then than they do today. So, if the CotF wanted to cause a war between the humans and the Others, and their goal wasn't to cause any long-term harm to humanity as a species, then their intent must have been to harm, weaken, or exterminate the Others. The CotF wanted the humans and the Others to go back to war, and they wanted humans to win. This explains why the CotF used to gift obsidian daggers to the Night's Watch.
She seemed sad when she said it, and that made Bran sad as well. It was only later that he thought, Men would not be sad. Men would be wroth. Men would hate and swear a bloody vengeance. The singers sing sad songs, where men would fight and kill. (ADWD, Bran III)
This raises the question, if the CotF wanted humans to defeat the Others, why didn't they help the humans during the Long Night (at least, prior to the Last Hero's involvement)? Well, once again, we need to consider the psychology of the CotF. We know the CotF are willing to fight incredibly bloody wars, as they did against the First Men, but we also know that they won't keep fighting in a hopeless circumstance simply to spite their enemy, in the way that humans will. In situations where they are faced with assured destruction, they react with sad acceptance, not defiance. The fact that the CotF didn't initially participate in the war against the Others during the Long Night indicates that they must have viewed that war as hopeless. The Others were sweeping south, massacring humans, converting their boys into more Others and raising the rest as wights, constantly growing stronger; the CotF must have concluded that there was nothing they could do, no way to survive the Long Night. They didn't just roll over and die, but they weren't about to fight the Others when they had no chance of success. The CotF most likely hid, guarding themselves with magic, waiting to die a slow death—just like they're doing today.
Fortunately for the CotF, the Long Night did not end in their extinction. As I argued in my second post, Azor Ahai negotiated a peace treaty that ended the Long Night. But, as part of that peace treaty, the Others received a queen, the first female member of their species (whom I've been referring to as the Night's Queen). This allowed the Others to reproduce sexually, as opposed to their earlier method of kidnapping human children, and as a result the Others' population would have begun increasing dramatically following the Long Night. So, on the one hand, the Others were no longer benefitting from the Long Night, meaning they were more vulnerable than they had been prior to the peace treaty. But, at the same time, the Others were growing more powerful, as their population rose. For the first time since the Long Night began, the CotF could now hope for victory in a war with them and the humans on one side and the Others on the other side, but they had a very narrow window in which to act, before the Others became too powerful. That's why they only began making moves against the Others after the Long Night; during the Long Night the Others were too strong to be realistically opposed, and before the Long Night the Others weren't seen as a significant threat. Once the Long Night ended, however, the CotF got to work, by helping to make the Horn of Winter and by providing the Night's Watch with obsidian.
Things change
The above description probably makes it seem like the CotF were motivated to provoke a new war against the Others out of self-preservation, and there may well be some truth in that. The Others, with their new queen, were a rising power, and they still probably harbored a vendetta against the CotF. If the new war against the Others resulted in the Others' extinction, that would obviously guarantee the CotF's safety from them; if the war resulted in the Night's Queen being killed or captured (which I argued is what happened), that would remove the Others' status as a rising power. So, if the CotF were acting out of self-preservation, their plan seems to have been both well motivated and reasonably successful.But, while the CotF might have successfully averted the risk posed by the Others, they failed to do the same with the humans. Leaf, and presumably the other CotF, fully recognize that humanity's expansion is going to drive them extinct. This has massive implications for the CotF's goals and motivations. The fact that the CotF are aware of and resigned to their inevitable extinction means that self-preservation is no longer a concern for them. They might have been motivated by self-preservation following the end of the Long Night, but not anymore. Whatever the CotF are doing nowadays, they're doing it because there's something they want to accomplish before they vanish as a species. And I do think that the CotF are trying to accomplish something, partly because characters that don't want anything are boring, and partly because Bloodraven is clearly up to something, and the CotF are supporting him. So, if they're not motivated by self-preservation, what are the CotF trying to do?
A common idea I've heard is that Bloodraven and the CotF want to prevent the Others from destroying the world in a second Long Night. I think there's an element of truth to this (especially considering the lengths the CotF have already gone to to oppose the Others), but I don't think it's the whole story. Consider this: if the CotF want to prevent the Others from conquering Westeros, but they're not motivated by self-preservation, then they must be motivated by some combination of altruism and guilt. They created the Others, then the Others got out of hand, to the point where they threatened all of Westeros, and now the CotF feel responsible for making sure they don't do that again. That's reasonable, even noble, but it can't be limited to merely defeating the Others in this latest confrontation. If all that comes of this current conflict with the Others is that the Others are prevented from conquering Westeros, then who's to say that the Others won't try to conquer Westeros a third time in another 8,000 years? And by the time that happens, the CotF will be extinct, so they won't be around to help with that conflict. Simply defeating the Others and thwarting their plans would be a temporary solution to a permanent problem, and, with the CotF facing their own extinction, they would see now as a time for permanent solutions. And when the problem in question is the existence of the Others, there can be only one solution: The CotF want to wipe out the Others completely. I suspect they wanted this ever since the Long Night; they probably see it as cleaning up after their mess. Now, with their extinction looming, that plan to genocide the Others has been made a priority.
I know that my logic has involved jumping around in time a lot, so, as a summary, let me present this handy timeline of the CotF's thoughts on the Others:
- During the war between the CotF and the First Men: "We need the Others to win this war."
- After the Pact was forged: Either "We may not be at war anymore, but we need to keep the Others as our slave soldiers, just in case the humans break the Pact," or "We don't need the Others anymore now that we have the Pact. I'm sure the handful of free Others in the Lands of Always Winter won't be a problem."
- During the Long Night: "The Others are going to drive both us and the First Men to extinction, but there's nothing we can do about it. This sucks."
- After the Long Night: "The Others are vulnerable, but they won't be for long. They're a danger to both us and the humans, and they're our fault. We need to act fast to destroy them, while we still can. That means we need to get the humans and the Others to start fighting again, and then we can help the humans win that war."
- After the Night's Queen was taken prisoner: "This isn't ideal, but the Others are no longer a rising power without their queen, so we can leave well enough alone."
- After it became clear that the CotF were going extinct: "The Others are unable to act against the humans for now, but there's no guarantee that that will last, and we won't be around to oppose the Others forever. We need to genocide the Others, while we're still around to do so."
"Two hundred years?" said Meera.It has often been observed that the Others, as an existential threat that can only be dealt with if humanity puts away its petty political squabbles, serve as a metaphor for climate change. In this metaphor, the CotF are the older generations that caused climate change in the first place and now are dying off for unrelated reasons. The CotF's behavior can then be seen as an aspirational model for how older generations should behave with regards climate change. Rather than saying, "Fuck it, I'll be dead, so it's not my problem," they ought to say, "I'm partly responsible for this, so I need to fix it, and the fact that I won't be around that much longer only means I need to work harder to fix it while I still can." Sadly, the CotF only behave the way they do because of their inhuman psychology, which points to the fact that it was never realistic to hope that older generations would behave this way in real life. I doubt this theme is intentional; Martin seems to have originally not seen the Others as a climate change metaphor, although he's since come around to the idea. Still, I think it's a neat connection.
The child smiled. “Men, they are the children.” (ADWD, Bran II)
It was Bloodraven all along
If the CotF really want to wipe out the Others, then the current situation at Winterfell must seem perfect for them. I argued in my last post that the events of the series have left Winterfell vulnerable, and the Others are now planning a rescue mission to extract their queen from the Winterfell crypts. With their queen no longer held captive, there will be nothing preventing war between humans and Others (and, after the humans kept the Night's Queen imprisoned for thousands of years, the Others will definitely have cause for war), and this war will happen while the CotF are still around to support the humans. Better still, humanity has dragons again, which will surely be useful against the Others. Everything seems to be going swimmingly for the CotF's plan to provoke a war of extermination against the Others, which raises an obvious question: did the CotF cause the current situation?To grossly oversimplify a complex series of events, Winterfell's vulnerability can be traced back to two events:
- Ned going to King's Landing, and subsequently getting beheaded. This caused all of the Starks except for Bran and Rickon to leave Winterfell, and it caused the Northern army to march south, leaving Winterfell vulnerable to…
- Theon capturing Winterfell, and subsequently losing it to Ramsay. This physically damaged Winterfell, it caused Bran and Rickon to leave, and it meant that Winterfell was now under Bolton control, which put it at the center of both Stannis's war and the various Northern intrigues.
More significantly, Bloodraven removed Bran's memory of Jaime pushing him from the tower:
Bran was staring at his arms, his legs. He was so skinny, just skin stretched taut over bones. Had he always been so thin? He tried to remember. A face swam up at him out of the grey mist, shining with light, golden. "The things I do for love," it said.If Bran had kept that memory, then he presumably would have woken up and told someone, "Jaime Lannister pushed me out of the tower, after I saw him wrestling naked with Queen Cersei." How exactly this would have changed the events of the book is a matter of fanfic, but, with eye-witness evidence of Jaime and Cersei committing incest and attempted murder, it's very easy to see things going poorly for the Lannisters. Even Cersei recognized how difficult of a situation that would have been to navigate:
Bran screamed.
The crow took to the air, cawing. Not that, it shrieked at him. Forget that, you do not need it now, put it aside, put it away. It landed on Bran’s shoulder, and pecked at him, and the shining golden face was gone. (AGOT, Bran III)
If truth be told, Jaime had come to rue heaving Brandon Stark out that window. Cersei had given him no end of grief afterward, when the boy refused to die. "He was seven, Jaime," she’d berated him. "Even if he understood what he saw, we should have been able to frighten him into silence."Had Bran kept his memory of Jaime pushing him out of the window, then it likely would have been Cersei and Jaime's downfall, and that means Ned wouldn't have lost his head.
"I didn’t think you’d want—"
"You never think. If the boy should wake and tell his father what he saw—"
"If if if." He had pulled her into his lap. “If he wakes we’ll say he was dreaming, we’ll call him a liar, and should worse come to worst I’ll kill Ned Stark."
"And then what do you imagine Robert will do?" (ASOS, Jaime I)
Later, when Theon takes Winterfell, he wakes up suddenly in the middle of the night, and he gets the feeling that someone was responsible for waking him:
One moment he was asleep; the next, awake.This was the chapter where Bran and company "escape," and Theon's primary emotions throughout the chapter are anxiety and desperation. Those feelings build over the course of the day, as Theon tries and fails to find Bran and Rickon, eventually consuming him to the point where he does something stupid.
Kyra nestled against him, one arm draped lightly over his, her breasts brushing his back. He could hear her breathing, soft and steady. The sheet was tangled about them. It was the black of night. The bedchamber was dark and still.
What is it? Did I hear something? Someone?
Wind sighed faintly against the shutters. Somewhere, far off, he heard the yowl of a cat in heat. Nothing else. Sleep, Greyjoy, he told himself. The castle is quiet, and you have guards posted. At your door, at the gates, on the armory.
He might have put it down to a bad dream, but he did not remember dreaming. (ACOK, Theon IV)
"Joseth has the right of it," said Maester Luwin. "Groping through the woods by torchlight will avail us nothing."Theon woke up in the middle of the night with a sense that something was off, and then he had plenty of time to stew in his anxiety. Were it not for that, he might not have descended to the point where killing the miller's boys seemed like a good idea. Therefore, the hint that someone was responsible for waking him up is interesting; maybe Bloodraven used his psychic tree powers to wake Theon? The passage mentions the "sigh" of wind—a notably anthropomorphic phrasing—and we know that, when Bran tried to communicate with Ned in the past, it sounded like wind to him; maybe Bloodraven can do something similar, sans time travel? There's nothing explicitly pointing to Bloodraven, but there is evidence that he's messing with Theon's emotions in his next chapter:
Theon could taste bile at the back of his throat, and his stomach was a nest of snakes twining and snapping at each other. If he crept back to Winterfell empty-handed, he might as well dress in motley henceforth and wear a pointed hat; the whole north would know him for a fool. And when my father hears, and Asha …
"M’lord prince." Reek urged his horse near. (ACOK, Theon IV)
The sky was a gloom of cloud, the woods dead and frozen. Roots grabbed at Theon’s feet as he ran, and bare branches lashed his face, leaving thin stripes of blood across his cheeks. He crashed through heedless, breathless, icicles flying to pieces before him. Mercy, he sobbed. From behind came a shuddering howl that curdled his blood. Mercy, mercy. When he glanced back over his shoulder he saw them coming, great wolves the size of horses with the heads of small children. Oh, mercy, mercy. Blood dripped from their mouths black as pitch, burning holes in the snow where it fell. Every stride brought them closer. Theon tried to run faster, but his legs would not obey. The trees all had faces, and they were laughing at him, laughing, and the howl came again. He could smell the hot breath of the beasts behind him, a stink of brimstone and corruption. They’re dead, dead, I saw them killed, he tried to shout, I saw their heads dipped in tar, but when he opened his mouth only a moan emerged, and then something touched him and he whirled, shouting … (ACOK, Theon V)Theon feels guilty for faking Bran and Rickon's death, and he's afraid for his future; that guilt and fear would have existed in him no matter what, but these dreams amplify those feelings, and the presence of weirwood trees suggests that Bloodraven is actively sending them to Theon. After all, none of Theon's experiences have involved a weirwood in any significant capacity, so this wasn't a native element of his dream, and Bran often has dreams about a weirwood that are implied to be sent by Bloodraven. Theon's fear and his attempts to rationalize his guilt drive him to cling desperately to his power and authority:
"Your prize will be the doom of you. Krakens rise from the sea, Theon, or did you forget that during your years among the wolves? Our strength is in our longships. My wooden pisspot sits close enough to the sea for supplies and fresh men to reach me whenever they are needful. But Winterfell is hundreds of leagues inland, ringed by woods, hills, and hostile holdfasts and castles. And every man in a thousand leagues is your enemy now, make no mistake. You made certain of that when you mounted those heads on your gatehouse." Asha shook her head. "How could you be such a bloody fool? Children …"All of this causes Theon to reject Asha's offer to leave Winterfell for Deepwood Motte, which results in Ramsay sacking Winterfell. So, to summarize, Bloodraven provided the Lannisters with advantages so that they would triumph in their intrigues against Ned, and he psychologically manipulated Theon so that he would lose Winterfell to Ramsay. Bloodraven has actively worked to create the circumstances that have left Winterfell vulnerable, so that the Others will be able to rescue their queen and begin a new war against the humans. I don't want to fall into the trap of claiming that Bloodraven was responsible for everything; I think that most events in the story happened without his direct interference. But, thanks to his greensight giving him glimpses of the future, Bloodraven has found a few places where just a small nudge can result in things going the way he wants them to.
"They defied me!" he shouted in her face. "And it was blood for blood besides, two sons of Eddard Stark to pay for Rodrik and Maron." The words tumbled out heedlessly, but Theon knew at once that his father would approve. "I’ve laid my brothers’ ghosts to rest." (ACOK, Theon V)
Of course, putting Winterfell in a vulnerable position only matters if the Others know about that vulnerability. Bloodraven must have some communication with the Others. I'm not sure what this communication looks like; if the Others can dream, then it might just mean sending them green dreams prophesying Winterfell's coming vulnerability. Alternatively, Bloodraven might be communicating with them directly by skinchanging into a raven. Maybe he's posing as a human traitor, willing to sell out the humans and the CotF, a kind of second Night's King? This is definitely the biggest missing piece in my theory, but I don't think it's too outlandish to posit Bloodraven has some means of getting information to the Others, and that he's thereby clued the Others in on Winterfell's coming vulnerability.
A politically useful apocalypse
I've talked a lot about the CotF's motivations, but not at all about Bloodraven's, so let's do that now. I'd recommend you read this excellent series of posts on Bloodraven, which I'll be drawing from heavily. Prior to becoming the Last Greenseer, Bloodraven was primarily occupied with the Blackfyres. He played a crucial role in ending the First Blackfyre Rebellion, including but not limited to killing Daemon Blackfyre and his eldest two sons, and since then he went to every effort to foil future Blackfyre attempts to claim the Iron Throne. Some people have speculated that Bloodraven did so out of duty and a desire to keep the realm stable, but this doesn't hold up. Following Maekar I's death, a Great Council was held to determine the succession, and Bloodraven invited and then immediately killed Aenys Blackfyre. Bloodraven later claimed that this was for the good of the realm, but… how? If the Great Council had selected Aenys as the next king, the crown would have passed to him just as peacefully and rightfully as it ended up passing to Aegon V. If Bloodraven was truly motivated by duty and a desire for peace, he would have had no reason to kill Aenys. The only explanation for Bloodraven's actions is that he genuinely did not want a Blackfyre to take the throne, no matter the circumstances surrounding their accession. In fact, his anti-Blackfyre obsession was so intense that he ignored the devastation caused by Dagon Greyjoy, because addressing it would leave the throne vulnerable to the Blackfyres:"Myself, I blame Bloodraven," Ser Kyle went on. "He is the King's Hand, yet he does nothing, whilst the krakens spread flame and terror up and down the sunset sea."It's important to note that Maynard Plumm was probably a glamored Bloodraven, so this isn't mere speculation; this is Bloodraven telling us his motivation. By all accounts, Bloodraven's tenure as Hand was an awful time for Westeros, where law and order broke down and few people respected the king. The point is, Bloodraven was not a noble man fighting against a beloved brother because it was the right thing to do. Bloodraven was a Targaryen uber-loyalist, who would gladly see the realm burn, so long as a Targaryen remained on the throne. And he appears to have retained that loyalty, decades later. Bloodraven is likely in control of Mormont's raven (see the series of posts I linked earlier), and in raven form Bloodraven hints fairly clearly about wanting Jon to be king:
Ser Maynard gave a shrug. "His eye is fixed on Tyrosh, where Bittersteel sits in exile, plotting with the sons of Daemon Blackfyre. So he keeps the king's ships close at hand, lest they attempt to cross." (The Mystery Knight)
"Aemon knew, and rightly, that if he remained at court those who disliked his brother’s rule would seek to use him, so he came to the Wall. And here he has remained, while his brother and his brother’s son and his son each reigned and died in turn, until Jaime Lannister put an end to the line of the Dragonkings."Something similar happens in ADWD, but what's interesting about this instance of the raven calling Jon king is that it happens immediately after Mormont claims that the Targaryen line has ended. This suggests that this is more than just a prophetic statement of fact; this is a profession of loyalty. Jon is the rightful Targaryen king, and he has Bloodraven's support.
"King," croaked the raven. The bird appeared across the solar to land on Mormont’s shoulder. "King," it said again, strutting back and forth. (ACOK, Jon I)
Given his undying Targaryen loyalty, Bloodraven must be psyched about the coming war between the humans and the Others. Daenerys is coming with three dragons, which will be humanity's best hope for defeating the Others; Westeros will naturally rally behind Daenerys, solidifying her rule. Moreover, dragons will be seen as the saviors of Westeros, rather than as dangerous weapons. If Marwyn was right that the maesters killed the dragons, then this would prevent a similar conspiracy from arising and driving the dragons back into extinction, since the dragons would now be seen as necessary for Westeros's security against the forces of evil. So while Bloodraven wants to provoke a war between humans and Others, just like the CotF do, he wants this for a different reason than they do; Bloodraven wants to use the Others to bring about a lasting Targaryen restoration.
Continued in comments
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