Silver lab christmas ornaments
Cube [Chapter 4]
2023.06.01 21:40 Xzenergy Cube [Chapter 4]
Sleep was a respite only in the way it separated the past from the new. A fresh start each day meant something different. You had survived and were still providing, still waking up everyday, optical lens’ able to catch the light of whatever star you labored underneath.
Gareth knew something was being lost. A call from the chambers of his sleeping physical brain, the hidden gods and their infinite creativity caged behind a synthetic wash of sedatives, used to keep the outer realms of consciousness at bay.
He was thinking of lost dreams, trying to remember the night terrors he had as an adolescent, shrieking to the dark wind at something he now couldn’t picture.
“Are you hearing me? They want you to absorb thirty-five percent of losses, covering just the gloves alone. What the fuck were you thinking Gareth?” Eris tapped elegant mechanical hands folded upon the jet black steel table between them.
Gareth looked up, “I was thinking about the narrative. I was trying to find the time.”
“Oh bullshit,” Eris scoffed, “Triarch will be coming through those doors in twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds, they left me unbriefed.”
Gareth’s glove was still as he sat and tried to ignore Eris. If they wanted him off the restoration sector, then fine. By all means. He would be happy to operate anywhere else. Even containment and corrections were beginning to look bright.
Silence descended between them as they waited for their superiors to arrive, worry twisting their stomachs. Eris was tapping a weathered spot on the back of his right hand, something he always did when he was nervous. Gareth had worked with him for over a century and it was a habit that had never changed. The sound resonated with some part of his stimulant addled brain.
“What was in it, anyways?” Eris finally asked.
Gareth shook his head, “I don’t know, it’s sitting in my laboratory. Mostly data from the airbase we’re passing over.”
Gareth wondered if the LIDAR scans had been completed. There was also the secured safe, which was sitting in his lab. Awaiting his dissection.
Eris shook his head and huffed, “so all this for pretty much–nothing? Fantastic.”
The entrance chimed and Eris stood to attention as a team of deadly looking security gloves guided a smaller administration official into the wide, low chamber.
The one called the Triarch.
The security team dispersed to the corners and entrances of the room and the affluent looking Triarch took his seat. The glove he wore was refined and set him apart from the others, just as it was intended to do. Hand pitted copper inlays and traces of gold glinted in the low lighting of the meeting chamber.
“Eris, please.” Triarch motioned towards the middle edge of the table, where a seat had already manifested from the floor.
“Of course, thank you.” Eris sat, the small nervous tapping of his hand just under the awareness of the rest.
Triarch’s optics focused on Gareth, “this isn’t the first time we’ve met.”
“It is not.” Gareth replied.
“I believe our last meeting was in regards to workplace safety. It feels as if we’re repeating ourselves. Eating our own tail.” Triarch placed both hands flat on top of the table.
“The added layer of chemical security was unexpected, the first time I’ve ever encountered such a modification. Tetrahyrdolytic-M88, a substance used in arc fusion reactors to keep the inside of the reactor free from molecular impurities. This is the first time I’ve seen it used outside of its intended application, if I’m to be honest.”
Triarch’s head twitched to the side, “this is something that would have been discovered, had the proper safety protocols been followed.”
Gareth had no reply. It was unambiguous, he was right as right could be. If they had tapped the outer seal, it would have registered and they could have proceeded in a different manner. Trigam’s way.
A safer way.
“You’ve been behaving as if our resources are infinite,” Triarch began, spreading his hands, “thirteen engineers, the cost of refacing and repairing the research bay, and the resignation of another one of your assistants. All for some comparable data. Where does it end?”
Gareth looked up, meeting Triarch’s opticals, “research requires sacrifice. The advances towards the narrative demand risks and I feel I’ve uncovered a relevant datagem from the airfield we are currently moving through.”
Triarch shook their head, “there are few datagems in our work worth the cost of the damage done today. The war here has already been lost, Yok Theron doesn’t care for the corpuscant he leaves behind. We are in a war, Gareth, that’s the reason we’re out here. To rebuild that which was lost, because we can’t afford to lose more. You’ve been through a lot of gloves, but younger inexperienced workers don’t have the same luxury. There’s a psychological impact, as well as monetary.”
Gareth conceded, “you’re right. I understand, my lack of discipline has been bothering me lately. Eris has given me direction and I will seek further counsel.”
The many lenses on Triarch’s face seemed to focus, “see that it’s done, archeotech. Your debt to the guard is beginning to cast a shadow.”
Triarch stood without warning and collapsed into the middle of his security, as they folded out of the dark door and were out of sight and mind. All meetings were like this, simple and as fast as possible.
“God almighty-,” Eris gasped.
Gareth sat, motionless.
Eris moved from the side of the table to the seat across, as he had been sitting before, “are you in this room? Did you hear what he just said?”
“I’m at the end of my rod, I heard him.”
Eris folded his hands, screeching metal sounding, “as your liaison, I need you to listen to me very carefully, Gareth. You need to focus, for fuck’s sake. Please, I beg of you.”
Gareth glanced down at the orange plastic covering his arms, sleek and dense. He could feel the anger flush through him, his actual skin rippling with heat and potential. So far away, but instant all the same.
“Leave me to my work, I’ll stay down. I promise.”
“Stay in your lab, at least for the next forty-eight hours. As soon as things calm, we can re-task and discuss where we’re at. Does that sound simple and doable, at all, to you?” Eris stood.
“Simple, totally doable.”
“Thank you-,” Eris moved to leave the meeting chamber, walking as if he were surrounded by broken glass, “I’ll catch back up with you in two days.”
Eris turned and exited the opposite door, a wave of air rushing out and away as it whooshed closed.
Gareth sat there for a while, unmoving. There was a small silver fleck of imperfection on the surface of the table and he was focused on it, his mind far away in a place where the pressures of life fell away like a cocoon, the blossom of worry and pain distant and stale.
“Sample D-1 seated and currently awaiting instruction.” Rube’s voice ripped him from the depths he was falling into.
“Initial analyses?” Gareth asked, standing and leaving the dim chamber.
“Grade composition of container: Pb, heavy lead shielding. Weight: 77kg-”.
“Please move the test article to hazard bay 443, I’ll be up shortly.”
Gareth walked through the massive inner structure of the Cube, making his way towards the MOL-44 printers. There would be a printer in the back left, just finishing a small ceramic urn full of ashes. He plucked the perfect white urn from the printing plate and left the upper sectors, making his way down to the bottom of the Cube.
It took two levicors and a small escalating platform, the journey to the usual outer seal he used was long and winding, taking him through the inner bays in a zig-zag pattern. The more random his habits, the more control he felt over his life. When everything was synchronized, unplanned deviation gave a sort of rush. A rush that washed away the sour taste of the meeting he had just sat through.
“Your debts are beginning to cast a shadow.”
Shadows were the result of light and he felt no brightness within. It was all darkness, no definition any longer to navigate.
Focus on the narrative, he thought to himself.
The pain he endured paled in comparison to what these people must have experienced in their final days or hours. The sky ablaze, nuclear death raining down, more bodies than flies. Oceans boiled, the atmosphere sheared off.
The echoes of his wails were nothing against the hurricane.
Gareth had finally reached the bottom level and could see the outer access door still a ways away, lit by a blue runner from above. He glanced down at the small ivory urn, making sure it was still intact. When he looked back up, there was someone standing in front of him, silhouetted in the dark.
Trigam’s voice called out through the cloud, “what do you do out there?”
He was a couple meters away, optics glinting in the low blue light.
Gareth stopped, his heart rate spiking, “what are you doing down here?”
Trigam spread his dark metallic hands and sauntered forward, “making sure you don’t wander off and have an accident. What else?”
Gareth tried to ping Rube, but his local gateway was blocked.
“What’s so important outside, that you would throw away a MK-V research glove? Like it’s scrap.”
Gareth started backing up and bumped into a solid plate of metal. He had walked past two gloves pressed against the walls like waiting vipers uncoiled, both wearing Atlas exoframes normally used in mining and heavy labor. They grabbed him by his arms and legs and raised him up, so that his feet were just off the floor. The sound of squealing and crunching metal and plastic echoed down the dark walkway.
“c15,000, c20,000? What is it? It’s more than MK-III engineers, I know that much.”
Gareth strained against the hold he was in, his small white urn shattering under the struggle. Ash and ceramic shards fell to the floor unnoticed.
“So what is it? Why do you walk out there?” Trigam asked, the angular build of his glove’s face inches away from Gareth’s.
Trigam didn’t allow him to answer, instead he rammed a charged copper spike into the side of Gareth’s neural controller, just inside his breastplate, sending waves of pressurized spasms through his glove and into his body, back in the seed tank billions of miles away. Gareth screamed, but his agony was scattered by the network jammer currently enveloping the small group.
“Everyone said you were brilliant, eccentric. Working with you was something like rediscovering yourself,” Trigam laughed, “I was your slave for eight months and now I’m considering joining Yok.”
Trigam depressed a small switch and the pain spike went dead.
Gareth gasped for air through the feeling of being unwinded, his head spinning and his rage turned ashen and to despair.
“We can’t afford our own debt and we won’t take on yours.”
A short silence fell between them, before Gareth’s legs and right arm were pulled and ripped away from his body. Sparks and caustic hydraulic fluid sprayed in a wide arc, covering the shifting metal of the interior walls.
“Loss is part of the process,” Gareth sighed, “but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. You never were very good at understanding that.”
Trigam smeared the clear oil along Gareth’s cheek, “you would be the expert of loss as well. Your bitch died and now you try to follow her, but Aetherguard will never let you die. You’re too special to them.”
The Atlas exosuits chomped down into the floor as the two holding Gareth started forward and hauled him towards the access door.
“It’s ten hours until sunrise, I hope you enjoy the little bit of leisure time we’ve bought you.” Trigam said, the access door whooshing open next to him and revealing the pitch dark howling night.
Gareth was tossed, like a dead battery, out into the ivory sand, tumbling end over end as he fell thirteen meters to the ground. The impact jittered his sensor core and his optics began an automatic reset, showing him the massive shifting wall of the Cube upon coming back online. He would give anything to close his eyes, but the pitch black was as close as he would get.
Every actuating joint and stabilizing core was damaged in the assault and now his entire glove vibrated in a kind of mechanical desynchronization. He hoped it would shake itself to pieces before he had to wait the agonizing hours for the star to rise over Kine’s horizon and cook him. The sooner he could get back and report this to Eris, the better his rage would be soothed.
Or so he hoped.
He still had slight control of the right arm they had left him and so he used it to push himself onto his back, face up and exposed to the sky above. His infrared lens gave the cosmos an ethereal shade, so much more to witness when looking outside the normal range. The sight of it all turned his awe to bitterness and guilt at the reminder of the casting away of his physical flesh. Not so much a loss, but a disconnection, controlled and bound by the numbers sworn fealty to as a neophyte. The end result was a sight so magnificent and so replicated it morphed into remorse.
“Rube?”
No answer came, they had damaged his communication module as well it seemed. He was on his own in the desert. He could already see the small search drones, their thermals scanning the glowing sand, looking for an imperfection in a backdrop of white.
When he looked down, the sand tinkled and blazed with the same astigmatism as in the small desk art piece, in Eris’ office. He looked and realized the sand wasn’t crushed silicate, but tiny individual diatomaceous shells, heaped by the trillions. He magnified and marveled at the radiating mass grave of microscopic animals. There was something about this last rape in the environmental brief, but the fact seemed to have slipped away, lost in a trillion other details of calamity.
North was a ridgeline rising out of the dunes, he could try to climb that and then throw himself off when he reached a sufficient height. Perhaps he could cut a few hours off of the current timeline, get back to the Cube and wring necks. The plastics and soft materials of his glove had all already sloughed off, leaving him a mechanical shell crawling across the wasteland, one arm dragging himself along.
Perhaps this was what it felt like, a fraction of the narrative’s suffering.
His neural core was pulsing, the flash of agony on the back of his subconscious reminding him he could feel at all.
He knew it would only be a fraction of what Trigam and his thugs would endure.
submitted by Xzenergy to HFY [link] [comments]
Gareth knew something was being lost. A call from the chambers of his sleeping physical brain, the hidden gods and their infinite creativity caged behind a synthetic wash of sedatives, used to keep the outer realms of consciousness at bay.
He was thinking of lost dreams, trying to remember the night terrors he had as an adolescent, shrieking to the dark wind at something he now couldn’t picture.
“Are you hearing me? They want you to absorb thirty-five percent of losses, covering just the gloves alone. What the fuck were you thinking Gareth?” Eris tapped elegant mechanical hands folded upon the jet black steel table between them.
Gareth looked up, “I was thinking about the narrative. I was trying to find the time.”
“Oh bullshit,” Eris scoffed, “Triarch will be coming through those doors in twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds, they left me unbriefed.”
Gareth’s glove was still as he sat and tried to ignore Eris. If they wanted him off the restoration sector, then fine. By all means. He would be happy to operate anywhere else. Even containment and corrections were beginning to look bright.
Silence descended between them as they waited for their superiors to arrive, worry twisting their stomachs. Eris was tapping a weathered spot on the back of his right hand, something he always did when he was nervous. Gareth had worked with him for over a century and it was a habit that had never changed. The sound resonated with some part of his stimulant addled brain.
“What was in it, anyways?” Eris finally asked.
Gareth shook his head, “I don’t know, it’s sitting in my laboratory. Mostly data from the airbase we’re passing over.”
Gareth wondered if the LIDAR scans had been completed. There was also the secured safe, which was sitting in his lab. Awaiting his dissection.
Eris shook his head and huffed, “so all this for pretty much–nothing? Fantastic.”
The entrance chimed and Eris stood to attention as a team of deadly looking security gloves guided a smaller administration official into the wide, low chamber.
The one called the Triarch.
The security team dispersed to the corners and entrances of the room and the affluent looking Triarch took his seat. The glove he wore was refined and set him apart from the others, just as it was intended to do. Hand pitted copper inlays and traces of gold glinted in the low lighting of the meeting chamber.
“Eris, please.” Triarch motioned towards the middle edge of the table, where a seat had already manifested from the floor.
“Of course, thank you.” Eris sat, the small nervous tapping of his hand just under the awareness of the rest.
Triarch’s optics focused on Gareth, “this isn’t the first time we’ve met.”
“It is not.” Gareth replied.
“I believe our last meeting was in regards to workplace safety. It feels as if we’re repeating ourselves. Eating our own tail.” Triarch placed both hands flat on top of the table.
“The added layer of chemical security was unexpected, the first time I’ve ever encountered such a modification. Tetrahyrdolytic-M88, a substance used in arc fusion reactors to keep the inside of the reactor free from molecular impurities. This is the first time I’ve seen it used outside of its intended application, if I’m to be honest.”
Triarch’s head twitched to the side, “this is something that would have been discovered, had the proper safety protocols been followed.”
Gareth had no reply. It was unambiguous, he was right as right could be. If they had tapped the outer seal, it would have registered and they could have proceeded in a different manner. Trigam’s way.
A safer way.
“You’ve been behaving as if our resources are infinite,” Triarch began, spreading his hands, “thirteen engineers, the cost of refacing and repairing the research bay, and the resignation of another one of your assistants. All for some comparable data. Where does it end?”
Gareth looked up, meeting Triarch’s opticals, “research requires sacrifice. The advances towards the narrative demand risks and I feel I’ve uncovered a relevant datagem from the airfield we are currently moving through.”
Triarch shook their head, “there are few datagems in our work worth the cost of the damage done today. The war here has already been lost, Yok Theron doesn’t care for the corpuscant he leaves behind. We are in a war, Gareth, that’s the reason we’re out here. To rebuild that which was lost, because we can’t afford to lose more. You’ve been through a lot of gloves, but younger inexperienced workers don’t have the same luxury. There’s a psychological impact, as well as monetary.”
Gareth conceded, “you’re right. I understand, my lack of discipline has been bothering me lately. Eris has given me direction and I will seek further counsel.”
The many lenses on Triarch’s face seemed to focus, “see that it’s done, archeotech. Your debt to the guard is beginning to cast a shadow.”
Triarch stood without warning and collapsed into the middle of his security, as they folded out of the dark door and were out of sight and mind. All meetings were like this, simple and as fast as possible.
“God almighty-,” Eris gasped.
Gareth sat, motionless.
Eris moved from the side of the table to the seat across, as he had been sitting before, “are you in this room? Did you hear what he just said?”
“I’m at the end of my rod, I heard him.”
Eris folded his hands, screeching metal sounding, “as your liaison, I need you to listen to me very carefully, Gareth. You need to focus, for fuck’s sake. Please, I beg of you.”
Gareth glanced down at the orange plastic covering his arms, sleek and dense. He could feel the anger flush through him, his actual skin rippling with heat and potential. So far away, but instant all the same.
“Leave me to my work, I’ll stay down. I promise.”
“Stay in your lab, at least for the next forty-eight hours. As soon as things calm, we can re-task and discuss where we’re at. Does that sound simple and doable, at all, to you?” Eris stood.
“Simple, totally doable.”
“Thank you-,” Eris moved to leave the meeting chamber, walking as if he were surrounded by broken glass, “I’ll catch back up with you in two days.”
Eris turned and exited the opposite door, a wave of air rushing out and away as it whooshed closed.
Gareth sat there for a while, unmoving. There was a small silver fleck of imperfection on the surface of the table and he was focused on it, his mind far away in a place where the pressures of life fell away like a cocoon, the blossom of worry and pain distant and stale.
“Sample D-1 seated and currently awaiting instruction.” Rube’s voice ripped him from the depths he was falling into.
“Initial analyses?” Gareth asked, standing and leaving the dim chamber.
“Grade composition of container: Pb, heavy lead shielding. Weight: 77kg-”.
“Please move the test article to hazard bay 443, I’ll be up shortly.”
Gareth walked through the massive inner structure of the Cube, making his way towards the MOL-44 printers. There would be a printer in the back left, just finishing a small ceramic urn full of ashes. He plucked the perfect white urn from the printing plate and left the upper sectors, making his way down to the bottom of the Cube.
It took two levicors and a small escalating platform, the journey to the usual outer seal he used was long and winding, taking him through the inner bays in a zig-zag pattern. The more random his habits, the more control he felt over his life. When everything was synchronized, unplanned deviation gave a sort of rush. A rush that washed away the sour taste of the meeting he had just sat through.
“Your debts are beginning to cast a shadow.”
Shadows were the result of light and he felt no brightness within. It was all darkness, no definition any longer to navigate.
Focus on the narrative, he thought to himself.
The pain he endured paled in comparison to what these people must have experienced in their final days or hours. The sky ablaze, nuclear death raining down, more bodies than flies. Oceans boiled, the atmosphere sheared off.
The echoes of his wails were nothing against the hurricane.
Gareth had finally reached the bottom level and could see the outer access door still a ways away, lit by a blue runner from above. He glanced down at the small ivory urn, making sure it was still intact. When he looked back up, there was someone standing in front of him, silhouetted in the dark.
Trigam’s voice called out through the cloud, “what do you do out there?”
He was a couple meters away, optics glinting in the low blue light.
Gareth stopped, his heart rate spiking, “what are you doing down here?”
Trigam spread his dark metallic hands and sauntered forward, “making sure you don’t wander off and have an accident. What else?”
Gareth tried to ping Rube, but his local gateway was blocked.
“What’s so important outside, that you would throw away a MK-V research glove? Like it’s scrap.”
Gareth started backing up and bumped into a solid plate of metal. He had walked past two gloves pressed against the walls like waiting vipers uncoiled, both wearing Atlas exoframes normally used in mining and heavy labor. They grabbed him by his arms and legs and raised him up, so that his feet were just off the floor. The sound of squealing and crunching metal and plastic echoed down the dark walkway.
“c15,000, c20,000? What is it? It’s more than MK-III engineers, I know that much.”
Gareth strained against the hold he was in, his small white urn shattering under the struggle. Ash and ceramic shards fell to the floor unnoticed.
“So what is it? Why do you walk out there?” Trigam asked, the angular build of his glove’s face inches away from Gareth’s.
Trigam didn’t allow him to answer, instead he rammed a charged copper spike into the side of Gareth’s neural controller, just inside his breastplate, sending waves of pressurized spasms through his glove and into his body, back in the seed tank billions of miles away. Gareth screamed, but his agony was scattered by the network jammer currently enveloping the small group.
“Everyone said you were brilliant, eccentric. Working with you was something like rediscovering yourself,” Trigam laughed, “I was your slave for eight months and now I’m considering joining Yok.”
Trigam depressed a small switch and the pain spike went dead.
Gareth gasped for air through the feeling of being unwinded, his head spinning and his rage turned ashen and to despair.
“We can’t afford our own debt and we won’t take on yours.”
A short silence fell between them, before Gareth’s legs and right arm were pulled and ripped away from his body. Sparks and caustic hydraulic fluid sprayed in a wide arc, covering the shifting metal of the interior walls.
“Loss is part of the process,” Gareth sighed, “but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. You never were very good at understanding that.”
Trigam smeared the clear oil along Gareth’s cheek, “you would be the expert of loss as well. Your bitch died and now you try to follow her, but Aetherguard will never let you die. You’re too special to them.”
The Atlas exosuits chomped down into the floor as the two holding Gareth started forward and hauled him towards the access door.
“It’s ten hours until sunrise, I hope you enjoy the little bit of leisure time we’ve bought you.” Trigam said, the access door whooshing open next to him and revealing the pitch dark howling night.
Gareth was tossed, like a dead battery, out into the ivory sand, tumbling end over end as he fell thirteen meters to the ground. The impact jittered his sensor core and his optics began an automatic reset, showing him the massive shifting wall of the Cube upon coming back online. He would give anything to close his eyes, but the pitch black was as close as he would get.
Every actuating joint and stabilizing core was damaged in the assault and now his entire glove vibrated in a kind of mechanical desynchronization. He hoped it would shake itself to pieces before he had to wait the agonizing hours for the star to rise over Kine’s horizon and cook him. The sooner he could get back and report this to Eris, the better his rage would be soothed.
Or so he hoped.
He still had slight control of the right arm they had left him and so he used it to push himself onto his back, face up and exposed to the sky above. His infrared lens gave the cosmos an ethereal shade, so much more to witness when looking outside the normal range. The sight of it all turned his awe to bitterness and guilt at the reminder of the casting away of his physical flesh. Not so much a loss, but a disconnection, controlled and bound by the numbers sworn fealty to as a neophyte. The end result was a sight so magnificent and so replicated it morphed into remorse.
“Rube?”
No answer came, they had damaged his communication module as well it seemed. He was on his own in the desert. He could already see the small search drones, their thermals scanning the glowing sand, looking for an imperfection in a backdrop of white.
When he looked down, the sand tinkled and blazed with the same astigmatism as in the small desk art piece, in Eris’ office. He looked and realized the sand wasn’t crushed silicate, but tiny individual diatomaceous shells, heaped by the trillions. He magnified and marveled at the radiating mass grave of microscopic animals. There was something about this last rape in the environmental brief, but the fact seemed to have slipped away, lost in a trillion other details of calamity.
North was a ridgeline rising out of the dunes, he could try to climb that and then throw himself off when he reached a sufficient height. Perhaps he could cut a few hours off of the current timeline, get back to the Cube and wring necks. The plastics and soft materials of his glove had all already sloughed off, leaving him a mechanical shell crawling across the wasteland, one arm dragging himself along.
Perhaps this was what it felt like, a fraction of the narrative’s suffering.
His neural core was pulsing, the flash of agony on the back of his subconscious reminding him he could feel at all.
He knew it would only be a fraction of what Trigam and his thugs would endure.
2023.06.01 21:31 Clay_Bricks Every retiring LEGO set (June 2023 update)
Another month, another retirement update! A lot of sets changed dates this month, and even more new sets got added! Which reminds me, I'm considering making a /legoleak Discord server in order to expand more on leaks, answer questions, and provide daily retirement updates. If there's interest in that, I'll work on having it done before the next list!
As always, we owe a massive thanks to ZombieYeti from the BrickHound Discord for providing this valuable data. If you're looking for real-time in-stock/deal alerts for Lego.com and other sites, make sure to check out his server: https://discord.gg/BwezK2t5qf
This information is scraped directly from Lego's website, and all dates are subject to change. ZombieYeti is currently developing a website to host this data and offer real-time updates. In the meantime, here is a list of every set and their corresponding retirement date as per LEGO's system!
FULL LIST ON GOOGLE SHEETS HERE <--
If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. Due to Reddit's character limits, we can't include everything here, but the full spreadsheet contains every set.
CHANGES IN JUNE:
NEW SETS ADDED:
SETS RETIRING IN 2023:
submitted by Clay_Bricks to Legoleak [link] [comments]
As always, we owe a massive thanks to ZombieYeti from the BrickHound Discord for providing this valuable data. If you're looking for real-time in-stock/deal alerts for Lego.com and other sites, make sure to check out his server: https://discord.gg/BwezK2t5qf
This information is scraped directly from Lego's website, and all dates are subject to change. ZombieYeti is currently developing a website to host this data and offer real-time updates. In the meantime, here is a list of every set and their corresponding retirement date as per LEGO's system!
FULL LIST ON GOOGLE SHEETS HERE <--
If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. Due to Reddit's character limits, we can't include everything here, but the full spreadsheet contains every set.
CHANGES IN JUNE:
| Theme | Set # | Set Name | Old Date | New Date | Change |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Avatar | 75577 | Mako Submarine | Dec 31, 2024 | Dec 31, 2023 | -1 year |
| Avatar | 75578 | Metkayina Reef Home | Dec 31, 2024 | Dec 31, 2023 | -1 year |
| Classic | 11020 | Build Together | Dec 31, 2024 | Dec 31, 2023 | -1 year |
| Duplo | 10966 | Bath Time Fun: Floating Animal Island | Dec 31, 2024 | Dec 31, 2023 | -1 year |
| City | 60388 | Gaming Tournament Truck | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Creator | 31143 | Birdhouse | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Friends | 41735 | Mobile Tiny House | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Harry Potter | 75969 | Hogwarts Astronomy Tower | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Icons | 10306 | Atari 2600 | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Ideas | 21331 | Sonic the Hedgehog - Green Hill Zone | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Jurassic Park / World | 76946 | Blue & Beta Velociraptor Capture | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Jurassic Park / World | 76951 | Pyroraptor & Dilophosaurus Transport | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Marvel | 76226 | Spider-Man Figure | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Marvel | 76241 | Hulk Mech Armor | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Marvel | 76243 | Rocket Mech Armor | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Marvel | 76245 | Ghost Rider Mech & Bike | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Marvel | 76256 | Ant-Man Construction Figure | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Speed Champions | 76906 | 1970 Ferrari 512 M | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Speed Champions | 76907 | Lotus Evija | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Star Wars | 75333 | Obi-Wan Kenobi's Jedi Starfighter | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Star Wars | 75344 | Boba Fett's Starship Microfighter | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
| Technic | 42138 | Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 | Dec 31, 2023 | Dec 31, 2024 | +1 year |
NEW SETS ADDED:
| Theme | Set # | Set Name | Retirement Date |
|---|---|---|---|
| City | 60381 | City Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41758 | Friends Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76418 | Harry Potter Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76267 | Marvel Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71777 | Kai's Dragon Power Flip | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71778 | Nya's Dragon Power Drift | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71779 | Lloyd's Dragon Power Spin | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75366 | Star Wars Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Batman | 30653 | Batman 1992 Polybag | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Batman | 76224 | Batmobile: Batman vs. The Joker Chase | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Batman | 76252 | Batcave – Shadow Box | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Batman | 76264 | Batmobile Pursuit: Batman vs. The Joker (4+) | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Batman | 76265 | Batwing: Batman vs. The Joker | Dec 31, 2024 |
| City | 60367 | Passenger Airplane | Dec 31, 2024 |
| City / 2K Drive | 60395 | Combo Race Pack | Dec 31, 2024 |
| City / 2K Drive | 60396 | Modified Race Cars | Dec 31, 2024 |
| City / 2K Drive | 60397 | Monster Truck Race | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Creator | 31144 | Exotic Pink Parrot | Dec 31, 2024 |
| DREAMZzz | 40657 | Dream Village | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Friends | 41756 | Holiday Ski Slope and Café | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Friends | 41760 | Igloo Holiday Adventure | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Harry Potter | 76419 | Hogwarts Castle and Grounds | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Harry Potter | 76421 | Dobby the House-Elf | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Icons | 40634 | Icons of Play | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Mario | 71422 | Picnic at Mario's House | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Marvel | 76249 | Venomised Groot | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Marvel | 76261 | Spider-Man Final Battle | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Marvel | 76262 | Captain America's Shield | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Marvel | 76263 | Iron Man Hulkbuster vs. Thanos (4+) | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Marvel | 76266 | Endgame Final Battle | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Minecraft | 21247 | The Axolotl House | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Minecraft | 21248 | The Pumpkin Farm | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Minecraft | 21249 | The Crafting Box 4.0 | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Minecraft | 21250 | The Iron Golem Fortress | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71789 | Kai and Ras's Car and Bike Battle (4+) | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71790 | Imperium Dragon Hunter Hound | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71791 | Zane's Dragon Power Spinjitzu Race Car | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71792 | Sora's Transforming Mech Bike Racer | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71793 | Heatwave Transforming Lava Dragon | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71794 | Lloyd and Arin's Ninja Team Mechs | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71795 | Temple of the Dragon Energy Cores | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71796 | Elemental Dragon vs. The Empress Mech | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71797 | Destiny's Bounty - Race Against Time | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Ninjago | 71798 | Nya and Arin's Baby Dragon Battle (4+) | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Sonic | 76993 | Sonic vs. Dr. Eggman's Death Egg Robot | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Star Wars | 75359 | 332nd Ahsoka's Clone Trooper Battle Pack | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Star Wars | 75360 | Yoda's Jedi Starfighter | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Star Wars | 75365 | Yavin 4 Rebel Base | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Star Wars | 75368 | Darth Vader Mech | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Star Wars | 75369 | Boba Fett Mech | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Star Wars | 75370 | Stormtrooper Mech | Dec 31, 2024 |
| Duplo | 10987 | Recycling Truck | Dec 31, 2025 |
| Duplo | 10994 | 3-in-1 Family House | Dec 31, 2025 |
| Duplo | 10997 | Camping Adventure | Dec 31, 2025 |
| Ninjago | 71799 | NINJAGO City Markets | Dec 31, 2025 |
| Technic | 42161 | Lamborghini Huracán Tecnica | Dec 31, 2025 |
| Icons | 10323 | PAC-MAN Arcade | Dec 31, 2026 |
| Technic | 42160 | Audi RS Q e-tron | Dec 31, 2026 |
SETS RETIRING IN 2023:
| Theme | Set # | Set Name | Retirement Date |
|---|---|---|---|
| Classic | 11015 | Around the World | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 31123 | Off-Road Buggy | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 10780 | Mickey and Friends Castle Defenders | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43203 | Aurora, Merida and Tiana's Enchanted Creations | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41962 | Unicorn Creative Family Pack | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71404 | Goomba's Shoe | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71407 | Cat Peach Suit and Frozen Tower | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71409 | Big Spike's Cloudtop Challenge | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71412 | Big Bad Island | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Mindstorms | 51515 | Robot Inventor | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21187 | The Red Barn | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71738 | Zane's Titan Mech Battle | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71754 | Water Dragon | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71756 | Hydro Bounty | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71759 | Ninja Dragon Temple (4+) | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71762 | Kai's Fire Dragon EVO | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71770 | Zane's Golden Dragon Jet | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71773 | Kai's Golden Dragon Raider | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42129 | 4x4 Mercedes-Benz Zetros Trial Truck | Jul 31, 2023 |
| Minifigures | 71038 | LEGO® Minifigures Disney 100 | Aug 31, 2023 |
| Architecture | 21054 | The White House | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Art | 31203 | World Map | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Art | 31205 | Jim Lee Batman Collection | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Art | 31206 | The Rolling Stones | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Art | 31207 | Floral Art | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Avatar | 75571 | Neytiri & Thanator vs. AMP Suit Quaritch | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Avatar | 75573 | Floating Mountains: Site 26 & RDA Samson | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Avatar | 75577 | Mako Submarine | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Avatar | 75578 | Metkayina Reef Home | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Batman | 76181 | Batmobile: The Penguin Chase | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Batman | 76220 | Batman versus Harley Quinn (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Brickheadz | 40540 | Lion Dance Guy | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Brickheadz | 40541 | Manchester United Go Brick Me | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Brickheadz | 40542 | FC Barcelona Go Brick Me | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Brickheadz / Avatar | 40554 | Jake Sully & his Avatar | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Disney | 40377 | Donald Duck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Disney | 40378 | Goofy & Pluto | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Disney | 40476 | Daisy Duck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Disney | 40477 | Scrooge McDuck, Huey, Dewey & Louie | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Disney | 40550 | Chip & Dale | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Disney | 40553 | Woody and Bo Peep | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Disney | 40622 | Disney 100th Celebration (Oswald, Mickey, Snow White, Tinker Bell) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Harry Potter | 40495 | Harry, Hermione, Ron & Hagrid | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Harry Potter | 40560 | Professors of Hogwarts | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Minecraft | 40624 | Alex | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Minecraft | 40625 | Llama | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Minecraft | 40626 | Zombie | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Star Wars | 40539 | Ahsoka Tano | Dec 31, 2023 |
| BrickHeadz / Star Wars | 40623 | Battle of Endor Heroes | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 30590 | Farm Garden & Scarecrow Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 30638 | Police Bike Training Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 30639 | Dog Park and Scooter Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 41723 | Donut Shop | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 41726 | Holiday Camping Trip | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60253 | Ice-Cream Truck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60313 | Space Ride Amusement Truck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60314 | Ice Cream Truck Police Chase | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60315 | Police Mobile Command Truck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60317 | Police Chase at the Bank | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60318 | Fire Helicopter | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60319 | Fire Rescue & Police Chase | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60320 | Fire Station | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60321 | Fire Brigade | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60322 | Race Car Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60323 | Stunt Plane | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60324 | Mobile Crane | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60325 | Cement Mixer Truck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60327 | Horse Transporter | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60330 | Hospital | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60332 | Reckless Scorpion Stunt Bike | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60333 | Bathtub Stunt Bike | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60335 | Train Station | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60338 | Chimpanzee Smash Stunt Loop | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60339 | Double Loop Stunt Arena | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60341 | The Knockdown Stunt Challenge | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60342 | The Shark Attack Stunt Challenge | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60343 | Rescue Helicopter Transporter | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60346 | Barn & Farm Animals | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60348 | Lunar Roving Vehicle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60349 | Lunar Space Station | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60350 | Lunar Research Base | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60351 | Rocket Launch Centre | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60353 | Wild Animal Rescue Missions | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60354 | Mars Spacecraft Exploration Missions | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60355 | Water Police Detective Missions | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60356 | Bear Stunt Bike | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60357 | Stunt Truck & Ring of Fire Challenge | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60358 | Cyber Stunt Bike | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60359 | Dunk Stunt Ramp Challenge | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60360 | Spinning Stunt Challenge | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60361 | Ultimate Stunt Riders Challenge | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60371 | Emergency Vehicles HQ | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60381 | City Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60382 | Vet Van Rescue | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60385 | Construction Digger | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60390 | Park Tractor | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60393 | 4x4 Fire Truck Rescue | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60394 | ATV and Otter Habitat | Dec 31, 2023 |
| City | 60398 | Family House and Electric Car | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Classic | 11014 | Bricks and Wheels | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Classic | 11018 | Creative Ocean Fun | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Classic | 11019 | Bricks and Functions | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Classic | 11020 | Build Together | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Classic | 11021 | 90 Years of Play | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Classic | 11022 | Space Mission | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Classic | 11031 | Creative Monkey Fun | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Classic | 30510 | 90 Years of Cars Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 30641 | Panda Bear Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 30644 | Vintage Car Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 31111 | Cyber Drone | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 31118 | Surfer Beach House | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 31127 | Street Racer | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 31128 | Dolphin and Turtle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 31130 | Sunken Treasure Mission | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 31131 | Downtown Noodle Shop | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 31132 | Viking Ship and the Midgard Serpent | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 40461 | Tulips | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 40469 | Tuk Tuk | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 40568 | Paris Postcard | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Creator | 40646 | Daffodils | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 10777 | Mickey and Minnie's Camping Trip | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 30646 | Moana's Dolphin Cove Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 40521 | Mini Disney The Haunted Mansion | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 41168 | Elsa's Jewellery Box | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43187 | Rapunzel's Tower | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43189 | Elsa and the Nokk Storybook Adventures | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43194 | Anna and Elsa's Frozen Wonderland | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43196 | Belle and the Beast's Castle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43197 | The Ice Castle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43198 | Anna's Castle Courtyard | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43199 | Elsa's Castle Courtyard | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43202 | The Madrigal House | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43204 | Anna and Olaf's Castle Fun | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43207 | Ariel's Underwater Palace | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43208 | Jasmine and Mulan's Adventure | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Disney | 43209 | Elsa and the Nokk's Ice Stable | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 30560 | Pineapple Photo Holder & Mini Board Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41801 | My Pets Bracelet | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41802 | Unicorns Forever Bracelet | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41803 | Extra Dots series 8 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41805 | Creative Animal Drawer | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41806 | Ultimate Party Kit | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41807 | Bracelet Designer Mega Pack | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41947 | Mickey and Friends Bracelets Mega Pack | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41948 | Cute Banana Pen Holder | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41950 | Lots of DOTS - Lettering | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41951 | Message Board | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41957 | Adhesive Patches Mega Pack | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41959 | Cute Panda Tray | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41960 | Big Box | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots | 41961 | Designer Toolkit - Patterns | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots / Disney | 41963 | Mickey Mouse & Minnie Mouse Stitch-on Patch | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots / Disney | 41964 | Mickey Mouse & Minnie Mouse Back-to-School Project Box | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots / Harry Potter | 41808 | Hogwarts Accessories Pack | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots / Harry Potter | 41809 | Hedwig Pencil Holder | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Dots / Harry Potter | 41811 | Hogwarts Desktop Kit | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10411 | Learn About Chinese Culture | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10872 | Train Bridge and Tracks | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10882 | Train Tracks | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10930 | Bulldozer | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10938 | Dinosaur Nursery | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10944 | Space Shuttle Mission | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10948 | Parking Garage and Car Wash | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10949 | Farm Animal Care | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10955 | Animal Train | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10956 | Amusement Park | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10964 | Bath Time Fun: Floating Red Panda | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10966 | Bath Time Fun: Floating Animal Island | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10968 | Doctor Visit | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10972 | Wild Animals of the Ocean | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10973 | Wild Animals of South America | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10974 | Wild Animals of Asia | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10977 | My First Puppy & Kitten with Sounds | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10978 | Creative Building Time | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 10979 | Wild Animals of Europe | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo | 30648 | Whale Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo / Disney | 10899 | Frozen Ice Castle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo / Disney | 10960 | Belle's Ballroom | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo / Disney | 10962 | Buzz Lightyear's Planetary Mission | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo / Holiday | 10976 | Santa's Gingerbread House | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Duplo / Marvel | 10963 | Spider-Man & Friends: Funfair Adventure | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 30633 | Skate Ramp | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 30634 | Friendship Flowers Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41443 | Olivia's Electric Car | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41677 | Forest Waterfall | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41696 | Pony-Washing Stable | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41697 | Turtle Protection Vehicle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41699 | Pet Adoption Café | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41703 | Friendship Tree House | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41704 | Main Street Building | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41705 | Heartlake City Pizzeria | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41707 | Tree-Planting Vehicle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41708 | Roller Disco Arcade | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41711 | Emma's Art School | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41712 | Recycling Truck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41713 | Olivia's Space Academy | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41714 | Andrea's Theatre School | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41715 | Ice Cream Truck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41716 | Stephanie's Sailing Adventure | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41717 | Mia's Wildlife Rescue | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41718 | Pet Day-Care Center | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41719 | Mobile Fashion Boutique | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41720 | Water Park | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41721 | Organic Farm | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41722 | Horse Show Trailer | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41729 | Organic Grocery Store | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41732 | Downtown Flower and Design Stores | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41733 | Mobile Bubble Tea Shop | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41741 | Dog Rescue Van | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41742 | Cat Hotel | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41743 | Hair Salon | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41751 | Skate Park | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Friends | 41758 | Friends Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 30435 | Build Your Own Hogwarts Castle Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 30651 | Quidditch Practice Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 75968 | 4 Privet Drive | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 75979 | Hedwig | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76386 | Hogwarts: Polyjuice Potion Mistake | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76398 | Hogwarts Hospital Wing | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76399 | Hogwarts Magical Trunk | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76400 | Hogwarts Carriage and Thestrals | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76401 | Hogwarts Courtyard: Sirius's Rescue | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76403 | The Ministry of Magic | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76406 | Hungarian Horntail Dragon | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76408 | 12 Grimmauld Place | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76409 | Gryffindor House Banner | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76410 | Slytherin House Banner | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76411 | Ravenclaw House Banner | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76412 | Hufflepuff House Banner | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Harry Potter | 76418 | Harry Potter Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday | 40426 | Christmas Wreath 2-in-1 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday | 40522 | Valentine Lovebirds | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday | 40523 | Easter Rabbits Display | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday | 40570 | Halloween Cat and Mouse | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday | 40571 | Wintertime Polar Bears | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday | 80110 | Lunar New Year Display | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday | 80111 | Lunar New Year Parade | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday / Creator | 30584 | Winter Holiday Train Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday / Creator | 30642 | Birthday Train Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday / Creator | 30643 | Easter Chickens Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Holiday / Icons | 10293 | Santa's Visit | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10265 | Ford Mustang | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10266 | NASA Apollo 11 Lunar Lander | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10273 | Haunted House | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10276 | Colosseum | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10289 | Bird of Paradise | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10290 | Pickup Truck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10292 | The Friends Apartments | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10299 | Real Madrid - Santiago Bernabéu Stadium | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 10497 | Galaxy Explorer | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons | 76989 | Horizon Forbidden West: Tallneck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons / Modular | 10255 | Assembly Square | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons / Modular | 10270 | Bookshop | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Icons / Modular | 10278 | Police Station | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ideas | 21325 | Medieval Blacksmith | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ideas | 21326 | Winnie the Pooh | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ideas | 21329 | Fender Stratocaster | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ideas | 21337 | Table Football | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Jurassic Park / World | 76943 | Pteranodon Chase (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Jurassic Park / World | 76945 | Atrociraptor Dinosaur: Bike Chase | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Jurassic Park / World | 76947 | Quetzalcoatlus Plane Ambush | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Jurassic Park / World | 76948 | T. rex & Atrociraptor Dinosaur Breakout | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Jurassic Park / World | 76950 | Triceratops Pickup Truck Ambush | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Jurassic Park / World | 76956 | T. rex Breakout | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Lightyear | 76830 | Zyclops Chase (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Lightyear | 76831 | Zurg Battle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Lightyear | 76832 | XL-15 Spaceship | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 30509 | Yellow Yoshi's Fruit Tree Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71406 | Yoshi's Gift House | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71413 | Character Packs Series 6 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71414 | Conkdor's Noggin Bopper | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71415 | Ice Mario Suit and Frozen World | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71416 | Lava Wave Ride | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71417 | Fliprus Snow Adventure | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Mario | 71418 | Creativity Toolbox | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 10781 | Spider-Man's Techno Trike (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 10784 | Spider-Man Webquarters Hangout (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 10790 | Team Spidey at Green Goblin's Lighthouse (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 30652 | Doctor Strange's Interdimensional Portal Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76187 | Venom | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76193 | The Guardians' Ship | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76206 | Iron Man Figure | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76207 | Attack on New Asgard | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76208 | The Goat Boat | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76209 | Thor's Hammer | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76211 | Shuri's Sunbird | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76212 | Shuri's Lab (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76213 | King Namor's Throne Room | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76214 | Black Panther: War on the Water | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76215 | Black Panther | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76216 | Iron Man Armory | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76225 | Miles Morales Figure | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76230 | Venom Figure | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76242 | Thanos Mech Armor | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76253 | Guardians of the Galaxy Headquarters | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76255 | The New Guardians' Ship | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Marvel | 76267 | Marvel Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21164 | The Coral Reef | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21170 | The Pig House | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21172 | The Ruined Portal | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21177 | The Creeper Ambush | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21180 | The Guardian Battle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21181 | The Rabbit Ranch | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21183 | The Training Grounds | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21184 | The Bakery | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21185 | The Nether Bastion | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21186 | The Ice Castle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Minecraft | 21188 | The Llama Village | Dec 31, 2023 |
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| Minecraft | 30647 | The Dripstone Cavern/The Stalactite Cave Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Miscellaneous | 40174 | LEGO Chess | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Miscellaneous | 40382 | Birthday Set | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Miscellaneous | 40393 | LEGOLAND Fire Academy | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Miscellaneous | 40584 | Birthday Diorama | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 30656 | Monkey King Marketplace Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80008 | Monkie Kid's Cloud Jet | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80030 | Monkie Kid's Staff Creations | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80032 | Chang'e Moon Cake Factory | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80033 | Evil Macaque's Mech | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80034 | Nezha's Fire Ring | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80035 | Monkie Kid's Galactic Explorer | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80037 | Dragon of the East | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80038 | Monkie Kid's Team Van | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Monkie Kid | 80039 | The Heavenly Realms | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 30649 | Ice Dragon Creature Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71757 | Lloyd's Ninja Mech (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71760 | Jay's Thunder Dragon EVO | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71761 | Zane's Power Up Mech EVO | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71763 | Lloyd's Race Car EVO | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71765 | Ninja Ultra Combo Mech | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71766 | Lloyd's Legendary Dragon | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71767 | Ninja Dojo Temple | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71768 | Jay's Golden Dragon Motorbike | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71769 | Cole's Dragon Cruiser | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71771 | The Crystal King Temple | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71772 | The Crystal King | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71774 | Lloyd's Golden Ultra Dragon | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71775 | Nya's Samurai X MECH | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71776 | Jay and Nya's Race Car EVO | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71777 | Kai's Dragon Power Flip | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71778 | Nya's Dragon Power Drift | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71779 | Lloyd's Dragon Power Spin | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Ninjago | 71781 | Lloyd's Mech Battle EVO | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Speed Champions | 30657 | McLaren Solus GT Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Speed Champions | 76900 | Koenigsegg Jesko | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Speed Champions | 76901 | Toyota GR Supra | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Speed Champions | 76910 | Aston Martin Valkyrie AMR Pro and Aston Martin Vantage GT3 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Speed Champions | 76911 | 007 Aston Martin DB5 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Speed Champions | 76912 | Fast & Furious 1970 Dodge Charger T | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 30654 | X-wing Starfighter Polybag | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75288 | AT-AT | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75292 | The Razor Crest | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75300 | Imperial TIE Fighter | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75301 | Luke Skywalker's X-wing Fighter | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75309 | Republic Gunship (Ultimate Collector Series) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75312 | Boba Fett's Starship | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75317 | The Mandalorian & The Child | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75318 | The Child | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75320 | Snowtrooper Battle Pack | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75322 | Hoth AT-ST | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75323 | The Justifier | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75324 | Dark Trooper Attack | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75326 | Boba Fett's Throne Room | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75327 | Luke Skywalker (Red Five) Helmet | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75329 | Death Star Trench Run Diorama | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75330 | Dagobah Jedi Training Diorama | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75332 | AT-ST (4+) | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75334 | Obi-Wan Kenobi vs. Darth Vader | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75335 | BD-1 | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75336 | Inquisitor Transport Scythe | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75338 | Ambush on Ferrix | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75339 | Death Star Trash Compactor Diorama | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75342 | Republic Fighter Tank | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75343 | Dark Trooper Helmet | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Star Wars | 75366 | Star Wars Advent Calendar 2023 | Dec 31, 2023 |
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| Technic | 42096 | Porsche 911 RSR | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42107 | Ducati Panigale V4 R | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42111 | Dom's Dodge Charger | Dec 31, 2023 |
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| Technic | 42122 | Jeep Wrangler | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42123 | McLaren Senna GTR | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42125 | Ferrari 488 GTE 'AF Corse #51' | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42127 | The Batman - Batmobile | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42128 | Heavy-Duty Tow Truck | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42131 | Cat D11 Bulldozer | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42132 | Chopper | Dec 31, 2023 |
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| Technic | 42134 | Monster Jam Megalodon | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42135 | Monster Jam El Toro Loco | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42137 | Formula E Porsche 99x Electric | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42139 | All-Terrain Vehicle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42140 | App-Controlled Transformation Vehicle | Dec 31, 2023 |
| Technic | 42144 | Material Handler | Dec 31, 2023 |
2023.06.01 21:24 RandomAppalachian468 Don't fly over Barron County Ohio. [Repost]
The whirring blades of my MD-902 throbbed against the warm evening air, and I smiled.
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a towering ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, with a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.
submitted by RandomAppalachian468 to u/RandomAppalachian468 [link] [comments]
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a towering ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, with a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.
2023.06.01 21:24 ddylan03 I knew Kitty Pryde would come in handy one day
 | submitted by ddylan03 to MarvelSnap [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 20:25 worldrallyx [WTS] Assorted Blade Lot, Mitchell's Wool Fat Bowl, Martin De Candre Original Envelope
Automod removed my post for whatever reason, so I'm relisting
Pic
For sale are some blades I’ve acquired one way or another and just don’t reach for anymore.
Astra Green - 3
Bic Chrome Platinum - 4
Fatip Ice Tempered - 2
Gillette Minora Stainless - 4
Gillette Minora Platinum - 8
Gillette Perma-Sharp - 4
Gillette Wilkinson Sword India - 10
Gillette Nacet - 3
Gillette Silver Blue - 4
Kai - 5
Personna Med Prep - 4
Personna Lab Blue - 4
Polsilver - 5
Voskhod - 5
Statum - 8
Asking $15 shipped to conus with PayPal f&f. Let me know if you have any questions and thanks for looking
Edit:
Still available is:
Martin De Candre Original Envelope $10 - pinched a tiny amount out for one use. It is very dry and crumbly, but it is supposed to be that way, so don't feel discouraged like I did
Mitchell's Wool Fat Ceramic Dish $15 (No Soap included) Comes w box
Take the blades, bowl, and MDC envelope for $35 shipped
submitted by worldrallyx to Shave_Bazaar [link] [comments]
Pic
For sale are some blades I’ve acquired one way or another and just don’t reach for anymore.
Astra Green - 3
Bic Chrome Platinum - 4
Fatip Ice Tempered - 2
Gillette Minora Stainless - 4
Gillette Minora Platinum - 8
Gillette Perma-Sharp - 4
Gillette Wilkinson Sword India - 10
Gillette Nacet - 3
Gillette Silver Blue - 4
Kai - 5
Personna Med Prep - 4
Personna Lab Blue - 4
Polsilver - 5
Voskhod - 5
Statum - 8
Asking $15 shipped to conus with PayPal f&f. Let me know if you have any questions and thanks for looking
Edit:
Still available is:
Martin De Candre Original Envelope $10 - pinched a tiny amount out for one use. It is very dry and crumbly, but it is supposed to be that way, so don't feel discouraged like I did
Mitchell's Wool Fat Ceramic Dish $15 (No Soap included) Comes w box
Take the blades, bowl, and MDC envelope for $35 shipped
2023.06.01 19:44 MisterG1415 $5K First Build - Gaming PC
Good morning,
I will be building my first PC for productivity and gaming over the next few days and wanted to make sure I didn't make any egregious mistakes purchasing parts. I have settled on the Monitor and I just purchased the GPU for $1,725 after tax from BestBuy.
Besides those components, I am looking for advice and/or alternative build lists within a 5k budget that yall think might be better. Btw, minimalist, professional, themed aesthetics are nice but they come after performance (I don't like a lot of RGB btw).
Thanks so much for your help, I can't wait to build it and post pics! :)
PCPartPicker Part List
submitted by MisterG1415 to buildmeapc [link] [comments]
I will be building my first PC for productivity and gaming over the next few days and wanted to make sure I didn't make any egregious mistakes purchasing parts. I have settled on the Monitor and I just purchased the GPU for $1,725 after tax from BestBuy.
Besides those components, I am looking for advice and/or alternative build lists within a 5k budget that yall think might be better. Btw, minimalist, professional, themed aesthetics are nice but they come after performance (I don't like a lot of RGB btw).
Thanks so much for your help, I can't wait to build it and post pics! :)
PCPartPicker Part List
2023.06.01 19:15 Bacon123321 Missing ornament
So I bought the ornament for Dawn Chorus for bright dust a while ago but I can’t see it under ornaments for Dawn Chorus. I don’t even see the option to buy it for silver like I can with other exotics. Does anyone know what happened?
submitted by Bacon123321 to DestinyTheGame [link] [comments]
2023.06.01 19:09 No_Boss_6728 [TOMT][Alien Interview]
Alien interview
I have little hope in finding this one. My internet history was wiped clean and I even looked through my google activities but I still can’t seem to find the post. I don’t know which subreddit it was under but I will try to give some brief info as to what it was about. I don’t remember everything or in detail since it was around 3-4 years ago.
So the guy had this job as some interrogated maybe where he questioned I’m guessing criminals. But there was this one guy who seemed to be a little odd. So op talks about how detailed his response was which made him think there might be some truth to this. So the guy he was interviewing was some scientist. It started when he and his fellow scientists had their usual lab project dissecting some frogs (not sure if it was specifically a frog). Fast forward and idk why they they were rummaging through the pond but they found this body. It looked a little human but I believe it had grey skin and was quite tall.
Here it gets a little more specific. They dissected the body (btw it was dead). Somehow even after drowning a sort of liquid was still being produced by an organ. The liquid seemed to be silver and I believe was sustaining or supporting it’s body after death. Not sure about this but I think they gave it to some rat or mouse and it could heal or possibly went berserk. Anyway, they were tinkering with the ‘alien’ & made a stupid decision of cutting up the organ, that produced the silvery liquid, that was oozing from his body. The body or more precisely the organ no longer produced the liquid. Not sure how the gov found out but they seized the lab, even the area was either under lockdown or was highly guarded. You had vehicles and stuff and they called op to possibly squeeze some more info. All in all the guy was innocent but delved into something he shouldn’t have. Had everything confiscated and op could no longer speak to him nor was he ever heard of. People in the comments made some jokes because op didn’t reply thinking that he might’ve been caught.
So I have little hope and I doubt anyone knows because I can’t find the sub. But I’m hoping at least 1 person read it.
submitted by No_Boss_6728 to tipofmytongue [link] [comments]
I have little hope in finding this one. My internet history was wiped clean and I even looked through my google activities but I still can’t seem to find the post. I don’t know which subreddit it was under but I will try to give some brief info as to what it was about. I don’t remember everything or in detail since it was around 3-4 years ago.
So the guy had this job as some interrogated maybe where he questioned I’m guessing criminals. But there was this one guy who seemed to be a little odd. So op talks about how detailed his response was which made him think there might be some truth to this. So the guy he was interviewing was some scientist. It started when he and his fellow scientists had their usual lab project dissecting some frogs (not sure if it was specifically a frog). Fast forward and idk why they they were rummaging through the pond but they found this body. It looked a little human but I believe it had grey skin and was quite tall.
Here it gets a little more specific. They dissected the body (btw it was dead). Somehow even after drowning a sort of liquid was still being produced by an organ. The liquid seemed to be silver and I believe was sustaining or supporting it’s body after death. Not sure about this but I think they gave it to some rat or mouse and it could heal or possibly went berserk. Anyway, they were tinkering with the ‘alien’ & made a stupid decision of cutting up the organ, that produced the silvery liquid, that was oozing from his body. The body or more precisely the organ no longer produced the liquid. Not sure how the gov found out but they seized the lab, even the area was either under lockdown or was highly guarded. You had vehicles and stuff and they called op to possibly squeeze some more info. All in all the guy was innocent but delved into something he shouldn’t have. Had everything confiscated and op could no longer speak to him nor was he ever heard of. People in the comments made some jokes because op didn’t reply thinking that he might’ve been caught.
So I have little hope and I doubt anyone knows because I can’t find the sub. But I’m hoping at least 1 person read it.
2023.06.01 19:09 MisterG1415 Will These Parts Work Together?
Good morning,
I will be building my first PC for productivity and gaming over the next few days and wanted to make sure I didn't make any egregious mistakes purchasing parts. Do you know if these parts are compatible and will work well?
PCPartPicker Part List
submitted by MisterG1415 to buildapc [link] [comments]
I will be building my first PC for productivity and gaming over the next few days and wanted to make sure I didn't make any egregious mistakes purchasing parts. Do you know if these parts are compatible and will work well?
PCPartPicker Part List
2023.06.01 18:58 No_Boss_6728 Alien interview
Alien interview
I have little hope in finding this one. My internet history was wiped clean and I even looked through my google activities but I still can’t seem to find the post. I don’t know which subreddit it was under but I will try to give some brief info as to what it was about. I don’t remember everything or in detail since it was around 3-4 years ago.
So the guy had this job as some interrogated maybe where he questioned I’m guessing criminals. But there was this one guy who seemed to be a little odd. So op talks about how detailed his response was which made him think there might be some truth to this. So the guy he was interviewing was some scientist. It started when he and his fellow scientists had their usual lab project dissecting some frogs (not sure if it was specifically a frog). Fast forward and idk why they they were rummaging through the pond but they found this body. It looked a little human but I believe it had grey skin and was quite tall.
Here it gets a little more specific. They dissected the body (btw it was dead). Somehow even after drowning a sort of liquid was still being produced by an organ. The liquid seemed to be silver and I believe was sustaining or supporting it’s body after death. Not sure about this but I think they gave it to some rat or mouse and it could heal or possibly went berserk. Anyway, they were tinkering with the ‘alien’ & made a stupid decision of cutting up the organ, that produced the silvery liquid, that was oozing from his body. The body or more precisely the organ no longer produced the liquid. Not sure how the gov found out but they seized the lab, even the area was either under lockdown or was highly guarded. You had vehicles and stuff and they called op to possibly squeeze some more info. All in all the guy was innocent but delved into something he shouldn’t have. Had everything confiscated and op could no longer speak to him nor was he ever heard of. People in the comments made some jokes because op didn’t reply thinking that he might’ve been caught.
So I have little hope and I doubt anyone knows because I can’t find the sub. But I’m hoping at least 1 person read it.
submitted by No_Boss_6728 to chemistry [link] [comments]
I have little hope in finding this one. My internet history was wiped clean and I even looked through my google activities but I still can’t seem to find the post. I don’t know which subreddit it was under but I will try to give some brief info as to what it was about. I don’t remember everything or in detail since it was around 3-4 years ago.
So the guy had this job as some interrogated maybe where he questioned I’m guessing criminals. But there was this one guy who seemed to be a little odd. So op talks about how detailed his response was which made him think there might be some truth to this. So the guy he was interviewing was some scientist. It started when he and his fellow scientists had their usual lab project dissecting some frogs (not sure if it was specifically a frog). Fast forward and idk why they they were rummaging through the pond but they found this body. It looked a little human but I believe it had grey skin and was quite tall.
Here it gets a little more specific. They dissected the body (btw it was dead). Somehow even after drowning a sort of liquid was still being produced by an organ. The liquid seemed to be silver and I believe was sustaining or supporting it’s body after death. Not sure about this but I think they gave it to some rat or mouse and it could heal or possibly went berserk. Anyway, they were tinkering with the ‘alien’ & made a stupid decision of cutting up the organ, that produced the silvery liquid, that was oozing from his body. The body or more precisely the organ no longer produced the liquid. Not sure how the gov found out but they seized the lab, even the area was either under lockdown or was highly guarded. You had vehicles and stuff and they called op to possibly squeeze some more info. All in all the guy was innocent but delved into something he shouldn’t have. Had everything confiscated and op could no longer speak to him nor was he ever heard of. People in the comments made some jokes because op didn’t reply thinking that he might’ve been caught.
So I have little hope and I doubt anyone knows because I can’t find the sub. But I’m hoping at least 1 person read it.
2023.06.01 17:44 it_aint_tony_bennett What is Mr. Waxwing eating here? It looks like a Christmas ornament.
 | submitted by it_aint_tony_bennett to birding [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 16:51 lilsmutking [For Sale] [For Trade] Older Pressings mostly Jazz, Funk, Reggae, Classic Rock: Art Pepper, Bob Marley, Cal Tjader, Derek & Dominos, Horace Sliver, Jack McDuff, Junior Mance, Les Baxter, Lonnie Smith, Miles Davis, Nilsson, Oscar Peterson, Paul Desmond, Ramones, Stan Getz, Vince Guaraldi, and more!
Hi everyone,
Shipping from California to US only. Did my best to price appropriately, but if something seems off, let's talk.
$5 unlimited shipping. $20 minimum to ship. Paypal Goods and Services only.
Grading is record/sleeve.
If interested, please comment and then send a message/chat. Would LOVE to trade. Trade list of wants is at the bottom.
Thanks for looking!
Almon Memela - Funky Africa NM/NM - $20 Played once, in shrink.
Art Pepper - Early Art VG+/VG+ - $15
Sleeve has corner cut on spine side and is a little dirt/ringwear on bottom and top which is a bit more visible with it being an off white color jacket. Most of the record plays quite well but there are a couple tics at the beginning of the second track on the fourth side. Happy to send pics.
Atmosphere - Seven's Travels NM/NM - $20 Played once.
Bob Marley - 20 Greatest Hits VG+/VG+ - $10
Bob Marley - Catch a Fire VG+/VG+ - $20
Runouts of this, but labels of this. Name on label in pen.
Byron Janis - Piano Concertos VG+/VG+ - $15
Cal Tjader - Soul Sauce NM/NM - $20
Derek and the Dominos - Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs VG+/STRONG VG $15
(Creasing to bottom of cover near spine. Initials in blue marker on bottom right of cover.)
Horace Silver - Song For My Father VG+/VG+ - $25 (With Obi)
Jack McDuff - Magnetic Feel VG+/VG+ - $15
Junior Mance Trio - That's Where It Is VG+/NM - $10 in shrink.
Kim So Hee - Pansori Korea's Epic Vocal Art Instrumental Music VG+/VG - $20 (name on label in pen)
Les Baxter and his Orchestra - The Primitive and the Passionate VG+/VG+ - $10
Lonnie Smith - Keep On Lovin' VG+/VG - $15 Sleeve has some significant creasing near top, most prominent on back, happy to send pics.
Me First and the Gimme Gimmes - Take a Break NM/NM - $20 Played once, in shrink.
Miles Davis - Porgy and Bess VG+/VG+ - $25
In shrink. It is a 6 eye and could be this listing or possibly this one.
Miles Davis - Quiet Nights VG+/VG+ - $20 in shrink.
Not 100% sure this is the right Discogs listing, Runouts end with 1k on A side and 1AF on B side.
Muscle Shoals Horns - Doin' It To The Bone VG+/VG - $12
Nilsson - Nilsson Schmilsson STRONG VG/VG - $10
plays clean except some noise for first 45 seconds or so of Without You which is kind of annoying. Sleeve in pretty good shape but big ol Promo timing strip deal across bottom half of cover
Nilsson - The Point (LSPX-1003) presumed M/M - $40 (Can't tell which pressing exactly since sealed but US 70s)
Oscar Peterson Trio - Night Train VG+/NM - $35 (RE6 on A RE3 on B with scratch outs) Borderline NM all around
Oscar Peterson - Plays the George Gershwin Song Book VG+/VG+ - $10
Paul Desmond - Easy Living NM/NM $40 (In shrink, beautiful)
Ramones - Subterranean Jungle VG+/VG+ $30
(name written on labels, small price sticker on top right front of jacket.)
Ramones - Too Tough To Die VG+/VG+ - $35
(Name on label in pen, creasing and a little bit of sticker residue on cover.)
Rusty Bryant - Fire Eater NM/NM - $25
Sam Coffey and the Iron Lungs - Sam Coffey and the Iron Lungs - NM/NM - $10
Stan Getz/Joao Gilberto - Getz/Gilberto - VG+/NM - $35 in shrink.
Stan Getz / Charlie Byrd - Jazz Samba STRONG VG/STRONG VG - $10
Various - A Motown Christmas VG+/VG+ - $30
Various - Funky Stuff: The Best of Funk Essentials Volume One VG+/STRONG VG - $12 (creasing on bottom right corner of sleeve)
Vince Guarald - Oh, Good Grief! VG+/NM - $25 (borderline NM on media, in shrink.)
4 for $20 shipped:
(Mostly VG+ records with VG+ or VG covers. Some are in worse condition. I will double check condition prior to finalizing any transaction to make sure condition is accurately disclosed prior to purchase and happy to send pictures etc.)
Aerosmith - Live! Bootleg
Bob James - Heads
Bread - The Best of Bread
Bread - The Best of Bread Volume Two
Bud Shank - Bud Shank and the Sax Section (worst album cover art ever. Lazy Eye+Unibrow)
Charlie Byrd - The Great Byrd
Charlie Byrd - Hollywood Byrd
Charlie Byrd - Sketches of Brazil
Cliff Richard - Best 20 (South Korean record)
Colin James Hay - Looking For Jack
The Crusaders - Unsung Heroes
Elton John - 17-11-70
Elton John - Blue Moves
Elton John - Rock of the Westies
Enoch Light and the Brass Menagerie - The Brass Menagerie 1973
Greg Kihn - Again
jj - JJ N 3 - NM/NM
Jim Croce - You Don't Mess Around with Jim
Johnny Hodges - The Eleventh Hour
Judy Collins - Recollections
Kano - New York Cake VG+/VG (promo timing strip on cover)
Kenny G - Duotones
Les Baxter His Orchestra And Chorus - Voices In Rhythm
Lionel Hampton and Orchestra - Lionel
Loverboy - Get Lucky
Mark Colby - Serpentine Fire
Mates of State - All Day VG+/VG+
Michael Stanley Band - Heartland
Mike Rutherford - Smallcreep's Day
Mystic Moods Orchestra - One Stormy Night
Pete Seeger - We Shall Overcome
Rick Springfield - Tao
Rick Springfield - Beautiful Feelings
Rick Wakeman - Journey to the Centre of the Earth
Roy Acuff and His Smoky Mountain Boys - The Best of Roy Acuff: Songs of the Smoky Mountains
The Rubinoos - Back to the drawing board
The Rubinoos - Party of Two
Tropea - Tropea VG+/VG+
Vangelis - Opera Sauvage
Various - The Montreux Collection
Vic Feldman - Mallets A Fore Thought G+/G
Windham Hill Records Sampler '82
Wings - London Town
LOOKING TO TRADE FOR AND/OR BUY THESE:
Charles Kynard - Woga
Donald Byrd - Kofi
Funk Inc. - Chicken Lickin'
Grateful Dead - Wake of the Flood
Harold Ousley - The Kid!
Horace Silver Quintet - Cape Verdean Blues
Ike Quebec - Bossa Nova Soul Samba
Keith Jarrett - The Survivor's Suite
Melvin Sparks - Akilah!
Neal Creque - Contrast!
O'Donel Levy - Simba
Pucho & His Latin Soul Brothers - Jungle Fire!
Teddy Edwards - Nothin' But The Truth!
Wavves - V
Yusef Lateef - Detroit
Primarily looking for Jazz/Funk type stuff, so if you have something along those lines let me know!
submitted by lilsmutking to VinylCollectors [link] [comments]
Shipping from California to US only. Did my best to price appropriately, but if something seems off, let's talk.
$5 unlimited shipping. $20 minimum to ship. Paypal Goods and Services only.
Grading is record/sleeve.
If interested, please comment and then send a message/chat. Would LOVE to trade. Trade list of wants is at the bottom.
Thanks for looking!
Almon Memela - Funky Africa NM/NM - $20 Played once, in shrink.
Art Pepper - Early Art VG+/VG+ - $15
Sleeve has corner cut on spine side and is a little dirt/ringwear on bottom and top which is a bit more visible with it being an off white color jacket. Most of the record plays quite well but there are a couple tics at the beginning of the second track on the fourth side. Happy to send pics.
Atmosphere - Seven's Travels NM/NM - $20 Played once.
Bob Marley - 20 Greatest Hits VG+/VG+ - $10
Bob Marley - Catch a Fire VG+/VG+ - $20
Runouts of this, but labels of this. Name on label in pen.
Byron Janis - Piano Concertos VG+/VG+ - $15
Cal Tjader - Soul Sauce NM/NM - $20
Derek and the Dominos - Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs VG+/STRONG VG $15
(Creasing to bottom of cover near spine. Initials in blue marker on bottom right of cover.)
Horace Silver - Song For My Father VG+/VG+ - $25 (With Obi)
Jack McDuff - Magnetic Feel VG+/VG+ - $15
Junior Mance Trio - That's Where It Is VG+/NM - $10 in shrink.
Kim So Hee - Pansori Korea's Epic Vocal Art Instrumental Music VG+/VG - $20 (name on label in pen)
Les Baxter and his Orchestra - The Primitive and the Passionate VG+/VG+ - $10
Lonnie Smith - Keep On Lovin' VG+/VG - $15 Sleeve has some significant creasing near top, most prominent on back, happy to send pics.
Me First and the Gimme Gimmes - Take a Break NM/NM - $20 Played once, in shrink.
Miles Davis - Porgy and Bess VG+/VG+ - $25
In shrink. It is a 6 eye and could be this listing or possibly this one.
Miles Davis - Quiet Nights VG+/VG+ - $20 in shrink.
Not 100% sure this is the right Discogs listing, Runouts end with 1k on A side and 1AF on B side.
Muscle Shoals Horns - Doin' It To The Bone VG+/VG - $12
Nilsson - Nilsson Schmilsson STRONG VG/VG - $10
plays clean except some noise for first 45 seconds or so of Without You which is kind of annoying. Sleeve in pretty good shape but big ol Promo timing strip deal across bottom half of cover
Nilsson - The Point (LSPX-1003) presumed M/M - $40 (Can't tell which pressing exactly since sealed but US 70s)
Oscar Peterson Trio - Night Train VG+/NM - $35 (RE6 on A RE3 on B with scratch outs) Borderline NM all around
Oscar Peterson - Plays the George Gershwin Song Book VG+/VG+ - $10
Paul Desmond - Easy Living NM/NM $40 (In shrink, beautiful)
Ramones - Subterranean Jungle VG+/VG+ $30
(name written on labels, small price sticker on top right front of jacket.)
Ramones - Too Tough To Die VG+/VG+ - $35
(Name on label in pen, creasing and a little bit of sticker residue on cover.)
Rusty Bryant - Fire Eater NM/NM - $25
Sam Coffey and the Iron Lungs - Sam Coffey and the Iron Lungs - NM/NM - $10
Stan Getz/Joao Gilberto - Getz/Gilberto - VG+/NM - $35 in shrink.
Stan Getz / Charlie Byrd - Jazz Samba STRONG VG/STRONG VG - $10
Various - A Motown Christmas VG+/VG+ - $30
Various - Funky Stuff: The Best of Funk Essentials Volume One VG+/STRONG VG - $12 (creasing on bottom right corner of sleeve)
Vince Guarald - Oh, Good Grief! VG+/NM - $25 (borderline NM on media, in shrink.)
4 for $20 shipped:
(Mostly VG+ records with VG+ or VG covers. Some are in worse condition. I will double check condition prior to finalizing any transaction to make sure condition is accurately disclosed prior to purchase and happy to send pictures etc.)
Aerosmith - Live! Bootleg
Bob James - Heads
Bread - The Best of Bread
Bread - The Best of Bread Volume Two
Bud Shank - Bud Shank and the Sax Section (worst album cover art ever. Lazy Eye+Unibrow)
Charlie Byrd - The Great Byrd
Charlie Byrd - Hollywood Byrd
Charlie Byrd - Sketches of Brazil
Cliff Richard - Best 20 (South Korean record)
Colin James Hay - Looking For Jack
The Crusaders - Unsung Heroes
Elton John - 17-11-70
Elton John - Blue Moves
Elton John - Rock of the Westies
Enoch Light and the Brass Menagerie - The Brass Menagerie 1973
Greg Kihn - Again
jj - JJ N 3 - NM/NM
Jim Croce - You Don't Mess Around with Jim
Johnny Hodges - The Eleventh Hour
Judy Collins - Recollections
Kano - New York Cake VG+/VG (promo timing strip on cover)
Kenny G - Duotones
Les Baxter His Orchestra And Chorus - Voices In Rhythm
Lionel Hampton and Orchestra - Lionel
Loverboy - Get Lucky
Mark Colby - Serpentine Fire
Mates of State - All Day VG+/VG+
Michael Stanley Band - Heartland
Mike Rutherford - Smallcreep's Day
Mystic Moods Orchestra - One Stormy Night
Pete Seeger - We Shall Overcome
Rick Springfield - Tao
Rick Springfield - Beautiful Feelings
Rick Wakeman - Journey to the Centre of the Earth
Roy Acuff and His Smoky Mountain Boys - The Best of Roy Acuff: Songs of the Smoky Mountains
The Rubinoos - Back to the drawing board
The Rubinoos - Party of Two
Tropea - Tropea VG+/VG+
Vangelis - Opera Sauvage
Various - The Montreux Collection
Vic Feldman - Mallets A Fore Thought G+/G
Windham Hill Records Sampler '82
Wings - London Town
LOOKING TO TRADE FOR AND/OR BUY THESE:
Charles Kynard - Woga
Donald Byrd - Kofi
Funk Inc. - Chicken Lickin'
Grateful Dead - Wake of the Flood
Harold Ousley - The Kid!
Horace Silver Quintet - Cape Verdean Blues
Ike Quebec - Bossa Nova Soul Samba
Keith Jarrett - The Survivor's Suite
Melvin Sparks - Akilah!
Neal Creque - Contrast!
O'Donel Levy - Simba
Pucho & His Latin Soul Brothers - Jungle Fire!
Teddy Edwards - Nothin' But The Truth!
Wavves - V
Yusef Lateef - Detroit
Primarily looking for Jazz/Funk type stuff, so if you have something along those lines let me know!
2023.06.01 16:10 THrobloxiannewb I saw this in a computer virus video, what computer virus makes Christmas ornaments spawn on your computer? the guy in the video didn't know either
submitted by THrobloxiannewb to computerviruses [link] [comments]
2023.06.01 15:04 richolas_m [For Sale] Various records for sale. Mondo/UGK/Beach House/Gotye/Future Islands/Arcade Fire
Shipping from Houston, TX. US Buyers only please.
Add $6 for USPS Media Mail, up to 3 records.
I don't grade any records as Mint, so even Sealed records will be graded as NM.
Feel free to make an offer if you don't like the price!
I also have a bunch of vintage Soul/Funk/Rock records for sale here. Please note I haven't play tested any of these records, please consider them VG condition or lower.
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1e1JzhPXfUrgDalVw6Q7o59FbHbThqbQIbfBuNkjdbLk/edit#gid=0
Grading is Sleeve/Record
A Tribe Called Quest - Low End Theory Reissue- NM/NM $25
Animal Collective - Centipede HZ VG+/VG+ $12
Animal Collective - Prospect Hummer - RSD 2021 Exclusive - NM/NM Opened, unplayed $10
Anthrax/Chuck D - Bring The Noise UK Import 7" Single VG+/VG+ $15
The Apples In Stereo - New Magnetic Wonder VG+/VG+ $40
Arcade Fire - S/T - RSD 2018 Exclusive Blue Numbered - NM/NM Opened, unplayed $25
Arcade Fire - Everything Now - Blue Translucent - NM/NM $15
Arcade Fire - Reflektor VG+/VG+ $15
Art Ensemble of Chicago with Fontella Bass - VG/VG $15
The Avalanches - Wildflower - Newbury Exclusive Cover VG+/NM $50
Beach Fossils - S/T - 2018 Green Reissue with OBI NM/NM $20
Beach Fossils - Clash The Truth - 1st Pressing Red Screen printed Cover - Limited to 400 VG+/NM $40
Beach Fossils - Somersault - Clear - NM/NM $30
Beach House - Depression Cherry - Loser Edition Clear with Velvet Sleeve VG+/NM $45
Beach House - Thank Your Lucky Stars - Loser Edition Green - NM/NM $55
Beirut - No No No - NM/NM $15
Beirut - Gallipolli - Turquoise - NM/NM $15
Best Coast - Always Tomorrow $5
Bill Evans - More From The Vanguard UK Import VG/VG $12
Black Pumas - S/T - Cream - SEALED $15
Black Sabbath - Paranoid - VMP Purple - VG+/VG+ $45
Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake It's Morning - 2016 Remaster w/OBI & Shrink - NM/NM $20
The Clash - London Calling - 1981 Pressing - VG+/VG+ $40
The Clash - London Calling - 2015 Reissue NM/NM+ $30
Daft Punk - Tron Legacy OST - Target Blue - SEALED $20
Dinosaur Jr - Give A Glimpse Of What Yer Not - VG+/VG+ $10
The Distillers/ The Regrettes - Dismantle Me 7" - RSD 2018 Exclusive - SEALED $10
Dr. Dre - Deep Cover feat. Snoop Dogg - Unofficial 12" Single VG+/VG+ $50
Dub Pistols - Point Blank + Keep Movin 12" Single $20
EPMD - Unfinished Business VG/VG $10
Eyedea & Abilities - By The Throat NM/NM $20
Eyedea & Abilities - First Born - VMP NM/NM $25
Father John Misty - I Love You, Honeybear NM/NM $20
Father John Misty - Pure Comedy - Aluminum/Copper - SIGNED NM/NM $100
Future Islands - As Long As You Are - Blue Marble - NM/NM $15
Future Islands - In Evening Air - Clear - NM/NM $25
Future Islands - The Far Field - White - NM/NM $15
Future Islands - Wave Like Home - NM/NM $50
Gotye - Making Mirrors NM/NM $175
Handsome Boy Modeling School - So..How's Your Girl? - VMP Green - NM/NM Opened, Unplayed $40
The High & Mighty - Home Field Advantage VG+/VG+ $25
Hot Water Music - Light It Up - Coke Clear w/Black Smoke - SEALED $10
Isaac Hayes - Tough Guys OST - VMP Classics - SEALED NM/NM $20
Joanna Newsom - The Milk-Eyed Mender - G+/VG+ (Sleeve's bottom seam separated, easy fix. still looks great) $12
Joanna Newsom - Ys VG+/VG+ $20
Kishi Bashi - Emigrant EP - Joyful Noise VIP Exclusive /503 - NM/NM $40
Louis XIV - The Best Little Secrets Are Kept - MOV White Numbered - NM/NM $15
Mac Demarco - Another One - Newbury Aqua Blue - NM/NM $40
Mac Demarco - Here Comes The Cowboy - Olive Green - NM/NM $15
McCoy Tyner - Looking Out - In Shrink VG+/VG+ $10
Modest Mouse - Good News For People Who Love Bad News - VG+/VG+ $25
The National - Sleep Well Beast - Blue - NM/NM $30
The National - I Am Easy To Find - Cherry Tree Exclusive - SEALED NM/NM $30
The Nextmen - Amongst The Madness - VG+/VG+ $12
Noah & The Whale - Heart Of Nowhere NM/NM $15
Okkervil River - In The Rainbow Rain - Purple/Blue - NM/NM $12
Parquet Courts - Content Nausea VG+/VG+ $15
Pink Floyd - Saucerful of Secrets - RSD 2019 Mono - NM/NM $30
Pixies - Monkey Gone To Heaven UK 12" - VG/VG $15
The Presidents Of The United States Of America - Green/Bronze Marble NM/NM $100
Queens Of The Stone Age - Villians Deluxe NM/NM $35
The Raconteurs - Broken Boy Soldier - VG/VG+ $20
The Raconteurs - Help Us Stranger - NM/NM Opened, unplayed $10
Radiohead - A Moon Shaped Pool NM/NM $30
Raekwon - Only Built 4 Cuban Linx - 2016 MOV Press NM/NM $40
Rocket From The Crypt - Hot Charity VG+/VG+ $20
The Silvertones - Silver Bullets - MOV Orange Numbered - SEALED NM/NM $12
Spiritualized - And Nothing Hurt - SEALED NM/NM $15
Spiritualized - Let It Come Down - SEALED NM/NM $20
Spiritualized - Sweet Heart, Sweet Light - SEALED NM/NM $20
Steady Hands - Truth In Comedy VG+/VG+ $5
Sublime - 40 oz. To Freedom - Pink Picture Disc VG/VG $50
Talking Heads - Warning Sign: Live At The Parkwest Chicago 1978 VG+/VG+ $25
UGK - Underground Kingz - VMP Woodgrain - VG+/NM $175
UGK - International Players Anthem - RSD 2016 Picture Disc SIGNED BY BUN B NM $250
The Wailers - The Wailing Wailers - VMP Red/Black - SEALED NM/NM $35
Washed Out - Life Of Leisure - 2010 Unnumbered Press - NM/NM $50
Willie Nelson Lot - Stardust, Always On My Mind, Somewhere Over The Rainbow (All VG+ In Shrink) $15
Willie Nelson - Shotgun Willie - VMP Gunsmoke - NM/NM $40
The First Six Dicords Records Box Set - Opened, unplayed. Comes in original mailer. $150
Vince Guaraldi Trio - A Charlie Brown Christmas - UO Red/Green/Clear Splatter - NM/NM $40
Mondo - Portal OST White/Gray Split - NM/NM $100
Mondo - Jurassic Park OST Yellow & Red Swirl w/ Black Splatter NM/NM $225
V/A - Dune OST - " Spice" RSD 2020 Exclusive - NM/NM $45
submitted by richolas_m to VinylCollectors [link] [comments]
Add $6 for USPS Media Mail, up to 3 records.
I don't grade any records as Mint, so even Sealed records will be graded as NM.
Feel free to make an offer if you don't like the price!
I also have a bunch of vintage Soul/Funk/Rock records for sale here. Please note I haven't play tested any of these records, please consider them VG condition or lower.
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1e1JzhPXfUrgDalVw6Q7o59FbHbThqbQIbfBuNkjdbLk/edit#gid=0
Grading is Sleeve/Record
A Tribe Called Quest - Low End Theory Reissue- NM/NM $25
Animal Collective - Centipede HZ VG+/VG+ $12
Animal Collective - Prospect Hummer - RSD 2021 Exclusive - NM/NM Opened, unplayed $10
Anthrax/Chuck D - Bring The Noise UK Import 7" Single VG+/VG+ $15
The Apples In Stereo - New Magnetic Wonder VG+/VG+ $40
Arcade Fire - S/T - RSD 2018 Exclusive Blue Numbered - NM/NM Opened, unplayed $25
Arcade Fire - Everything Now - Blue Translucent - NM/NM $15
Arcade Fire - Reflektor VG+/VG+ $15
Art Ensemble of Chicago with Fontella Bass - VG/VG $15
The Avalanches - Wildflower - Newbury Exclusive Cover VG+/NM $50
Beach Fossils - S/T - 2018 Green Reissue with OBI NM/NM $20
Beach Fossils - Clash The Truth - 1st Pressing Red Screen printed Cover - Limited to 400 VG+/NM $40
Beach Fossils - Somersault - Clear - NM/NM $30
Beach House - Depression Cherry - Loser Edition Clear with Velvet Sleeve VG+/NM $45
Beach House - Thank Your Lucky Stars - Loser Edition Green - NM/NM $55
Beirut - No No No - NM/NM $15
Beirut - Gallipolli - Turquoise - NM/NM $15
Best Coast - Always Tomorrow $5
Bill Evans - More From The Vanguard UK Import VG/VG $12
Black Pumas - S/T - Cream - SEALED $15
Black Sabbath - Paranoid - VMP Purple - VG+/VG+ $45
Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake It's Morning - 2016 Remaster w/OBI & Shrink - NM/NM $20
The Clash - London Calling - 1981 Pressing - VG+/VG+ $40
The Clash - London Calling - 2015 Reissue NM/NM+ $30
Daft Punk - Tron Legacy OST - Target Blue - SEALED $20
Dinosaur Jr - Give A Glimpse Of What Yer Not - VG+/VG+ $10
The Distillers/ The Regrettes - Dismantle Me 7" - RSD 2018 Exclusive - SEALED $10
Dr. Dre - Deep Cover feat. Snoop Dogg - Unofficial 12" Single VG+/VG+ $50
Dub Pistols - Point Blank + Keep Movin 12" Single $20
EPMD - Unfinished Business VG/VG $10
Eyedea & Abilities - By The Throat NM/NM $20
Eyedea & Abilities - First Born - VMP NM/NM $25
Father John Misty - I Love You, Honeybear NM/NM $20
Father John Misty - Pure Comedy - Aluminum/Copper - SIGNED NM/NM $100
Future Islands - As Long As You Are - Blue Marble - NM/NM $15
Future Islands - In Evening Air - Clear - NM/NM $25
Future Islands - The Far Field - White - NM/NM $15
Future Islands - Wave Like Home - NM/NM $50
Gotye - Making Mirrors NM/NM $175
Handsome Boy Modeling School - So..How's Your Girl? - VMP Green - NM/NM Opened, Unplayed $40
The High & Mighty - Home Field Advantage VG+/VG+ $25
Hot Water Music - Light It Up - Coke Clear w/Black Smoke - SEALED $10
Isaac Hayes - Tough Guys OST - VMP Classics - SEALED NM/NM $20
Joanna Newsom - The Milk-Eyed Mender - G+/VG+ (Sleeve's bottom seam separated, easy fix. still looks great) $12
Joanna Newsom - Ys VG+/VG+ $20
Kishi Bashi - Emigrant EP - Joyful Noise VIP Exclusive /503 - NM/NM $40
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2023.06.01 14:12 sonofabutch No game today, so let's remember a forgotten Yankee: Jackie Jensen, "The Golden Boy"
Jackie Jensen, "The Golden Boy", was a superstar athlete in the 1940s who seemed destined for greatness as the heir to Joe DiMaggio... only to be supplanted by a different golden boy, the great Mickey Mantle.
Jensen would eventually live up to the hype, but with the Red Sox -- but his career ended prematurely because, as baseball expanded to the west coast, his fear of flying made road games unbearable!
The Yankees between 1947 and 1964 were utterly dominant, winning 15 pennants and 10 World Series. And it wasn't just the major league team that was successful. The Yankees of this era were loaded up and down the system, from Rookie ball to their two Triple-A teams!
With such a loaded major league roster, the Yankees had many talented players stuck either on the end of the bench or in the minors who would eventually find an opportunity with other teams, including Bob Cerv, Vic Power, Gus Triandos, Lew Burdette, Jerry Lumpe, Bob Porterfield, and Bob Keegan, all named All-Stars with other teams after leaving the Yankees. Clint Courtney would be the 1952 A.L. Rookie of the Year runner-up after the Yankees traded him to the Browns, and Bill Virdon was the 1955 N.L. Rookie of the Year with the Cardinals (and then Yankee manager from 1974 to 1975!).
But the most talented player who just couldn't find the playing time in New York was Jack Eugene Jensen, born March 9, 1927, in San Francisco. His parents divorced when he was 5, and he grew up poor, his mother working six days a week, 12 hours a day. Jensen said the family moved 16 times between kindergarten and eighth grade -- "every time the rent came due."
After serving in the U.S. Navy during World War II, Jensen went to the University of California in 1946 on the G.I. Bill. There he became one of the most famous college players in the country, leading Cal to the Rose Bowl. In 1947, he was the starting fullback as well as the team's top defensive back, and in 1948, he rushed for 1,000 yards and was an All-American.
He also was a tremendous two-way baseball player, pitching and hitting for the Golden Bears in 1947 as the won the very first College World Series, beating a Yale team that had George H.W. Bush playing first base. In 1949, he was an All-American in baseball, too.
His blond hair, good looks, and athletic accomplishments earned him the nickname "The Golden Boy."
Halfway through his junior year, Jensen left Berkeley to turn pro. Jensen would later say he couldn't risk playing a career-ending injury playing for free while teams -- baseball and football -- were trying to sign him to big-money contracts.
At the end of the year, the Oaks sold his contract (and that of Billy Martin, another Northern California kid) to the Yankees.
That same year, Jensen married his high school sweetheart, Zoe Ann Olsen, an Olympic diver. (By age 18, she had won 14 national diving championships and a silver medal in the 1948 Olympics.) "Together they looked like a Nordic god and goddess," Sports Illustrated reported. Nicknamed "the sweethearts of sports," they were the Dansby Swanson and Mallory Pugh of their era. More than 1,000 people attended their wedding.
Jensen would start the 1950 season not in the minors but in the Bronx. He joined the Yankees in a time of flux. They though they'd won the 1949 World Series, the Yankees knew they had to make some changes, with 35-year-old Joe DiMaggio nearing the end of his career. And their heir apparent was not Mickey Mantle -- at the time an 18-year-old shortstop playing in the Class C league, the equivalent of A-ball today -- but the 23-year-old Jensen.
But Jensen disappointed, hitting just .171/.247/.300 in 70 at-bats, and only starting in 13 games. Watching from the bench most of the season, Jensen would later lament the lost year of development, saying he'd have been better off playing every day in the Pacific Coast League.
The Yankees won the pennant for a second straight year, and in the World Series he once again was left on the bench. His only action was as a pinch runner in Game 3 as the Yankees swept the Phillies. That "Moonlight Graham" appearance would be his only taste of the post-season in an 11-year career.
The following year would be DiMaggio's last, and Mantle's first. Jensen began the year as the Yankees' starting left fielder and proved he belonged, hitting .296/.371/.509 through the end of July... and then, shockingly, was demoted to Triple-A and replaced with previously forgotten Yankee Bob Cerv.
I can see why they called up Cerv -- the University of Nebraska stand-out was tearing up Triple-A, leading the American Association in batting average (.349), home runs (26), triples (21), RBIs (101), and total bases (261) -- but why demote Jensen, who had a 140 OPS+ in the majors? Maybe the Yankees felt the brash 23-year-old needed to be taken down a peg. In any event, Cerv hit just .214/.333/.250 in August and was sent back to Triple-A, but Jensen also was left down there. He hit .263/.344/.469 and was recalled after the Triple-A season ended, only getting into three games (he went 3-for-9).
Mantle, too, had started the season with the Yankees, and after hitting .260/.341/.423 through the middle of July, was sent down to Triple-A. But he hit .361/.445/.651 in 166 at-bats, and unlike Jensen was back in the bigs by August 24. He would play pretty much every game the rest of the season, hitting .284/.370/.495 in 95 at-bats.
The torch had clearly been passed -- Jensen was no longer the heir apparent to DiMaggio. In the World Series that year, Mantle was the starting right fielder, and Jensen wasn't even on the post-season roster.
Jensen was so disappointed with how the Yankees had treated him in 1951 that he talked to the San Francisco 49ers about switching to pro football, but ultimately decided to stick with baseball.
Never shy about what he said to reporters, Jensen told The Sporting News on October 24, 1951:
Sportswriters spent the off-season speculating whether DiMaggio would retire, and if he did, whether Jensen or Mantle would take over as the center fielder, as there were still concerns that Mantle, who had hurt his knee in the 1951 World Series, wouldn't be fully recovered by the start of the season.
On Opening Day, April 16, 1952, it was Jackie Jensen in center and Mickey Mantle in right. Jensen went 0-for-5 with a GIDP; Mantle, 3-for-4 with a double, a walk, and a stolen base! Seven games into the season, Jensen was 2-for-17 (.118) and found himself on the bench. He'd never play for the Yankees again. On May 3, the Golden Boy was traded to the Washington Senators along with Spec Shea, Jerry Snyder, and Archie Wilson in exchange for Irv Noren and Tom Upton.
In two years with the Senators, Jensen hit an impressive .276/.359/.407 (112 OPS+), but the team was terrible, and Jensen wasn't happy. Still just 26 years old, he later said he had almost quit after the 1953 season... particularly after a harrowing flight to Japan for a series of exhibition games with a squad of All-Stars that included Yankees Yogi Berra, Eddie Lopat, and Billy Martin. That experience gave Jensen a lifelong fear of flying, a phobia that became so intense eventually he could only fly with the help of sleeping pills... and a hypnotist!
He might have quit if not for the trade on December 9, 1953, that sent him to the Boston Red Sox for pitcher Mickey McDermott and outfielder Tom Umphlett. He was homesick, he hated flying, and he now had two little kids at home. Red Sox general manager Joe Cronin convinced Jensen to come to the Red Sox, telling him that Fenway Park was tailor made for his swing. Cronin was right: Jensen was a career .279/.369/.460 hitter, but .298/.400/.514 at Fenway.
It was in Boston that Jensen finally lived up to the hype, becoming a two-time All-Star and winning the A.L. MVP Award in 1958 and a Gold Glove in 1959. During his seven seasons in Boston, he hit .282/.374/.478 in 4,519 plate appearances. In his MVP season, Jensen hit .286/.396/.535 (148 OPS+) with 31 doubles, 35 home runs, and a league-leading 122 RBIs. During his peak with the Red Sox, 1954 to 1959, Jensen's average season was .285/.378/.490 (127 OPS+) with 28 doubles, 26 home runs, 111 RBIs, 14 stolen bases, and 3.6 bWAR. During those six seasons, no one in the American League -- not Mickey Mantle, not Ted Williams, not Al Kaline -- had more runs batted in than Jackie Jensen.
Of course, Mantle was the far better player -- even in Jensen's MVP season, Mantle had more runs, hits, home runs, walks, and a 188 OPS+ -- but Jensen's 127 OPS+ between 1954 and 1959 would have been an upgrade over the aging Hank Bauer's 110 OPS+ in right or the left field merry-go-round of Norm Siebern (113 OPS+), Irv Noren (107 OPS+), Enos Slaughter (103 OPS+), and previously forgotten Yankee Hector Lopez (101 OPS+). Casey Stengel would later say the Jensen trade was the worst one the Yankees had made while he was manager.
Despite his success, Jensen was sometimes booed by the Boston fans, just as they sometimes booed Ted Williams. There even was an article in Sport magazine, "What Do They Want From Jackie Jensen?", taking Red Sox fans to task for their unreasonably high demands from the Golden Boy. In 1956, in a game at Fenway Park against the Yankees, the hometown fans were razzing Jensen so much that teammates had to restrain him from going into the stands after a fan. Later that same game, Williams misplayed a wind-blown fly ball from Mantle, and the fans booed lustily. The very next play, Williams made a leaping catch at the scoreboard to rob Yogi Berra of a double. But Williams, still furious, spit into the crowd. He was later fined $5,000.
And Jackie was unhappy to be away from home. He and Zoe Ann had bought a house near Lake Tahoe, where they could both ski and golf year-round, as well as hit the casinos. They also had a home in Oakland, and a restaurant there, and each year Jensen hosted a pro-am golf tournament. But the marriage was struggling. Zoe Ann, once nationally known for her Olympic exploits, was frustrated to be a stay-at-home mom in the shadow of her famous husband, and Jackie became angry if she engaged in her favorite outdoor hobbies, suspecting there were men around.
Jensen's fear of flying also had become even more intense. Sometimes he was so drugged up that he had to be carried on and off the plane, fueling rumors that he was a drunk. Other times he took trains or even drove while his teammates flew.
Once again Jensen was talking about retirement, and in Spring Training 1957, the Red Sox allowed him to train with the San Francisco Seals, Boston's Triple-A team, rather than having to go to Florida. But he was still miserable. That year, he told Sports Illustrated:
After leaving baseball, Jensen invested in real estate and a golf course, but lost most of his money. He then got a job working for a Lake Tahoe casino, was a national spokesman for Camel cigarettes, Wonder Bread, and Gillette, and even tried selling cars. Ironically, Jackie found himself on the road almost as much as he had been as a ballplayer. In 1963, he and Zoe Ann divorced, remarried, and then divorced again.
In 1967, Jensen became a TV sportscaster, married his producer Katharine Cortesi, and eventually teamed up with Keith Jackson calling college football games for ABC, and was a college baseball coach, first at the University of Nevada-Reno and then at the University of California. He managed the Red Sox team in the New York Penn League in 1970. In 1977, Jackie and Katharine moved to Virginia and started a Christmas tree farm while he coached baseball at a military academy. About five years later, on July 14, 1982, he died of a heart attack at age 55.
You Don't Know Jack(ie):
submitted by sonofabutch to NYYankees [link] [comments]
Jensen would eventually live up to the hype, but with the Red Sox -- but his career ended prematurely because, as baseball expanded to the west coast, his fear of flying made road games unbearable!
The Yankees between 1947 and 1964 were utterly dominant, winning 15 pennants and 10 World Series. And it wasn't just the major league team that was successful. The Yankees of this era were loaded up and down the system, from Rookie ball to their two Triple-A teams!
With such a loaded major league roster, the Yankees had many talented players stuck either on the end of the bench or in the minors who would eventually find an opportunity with other teams, including Bob Cerv, Vic Power, Gus Triandos, Lew Burdette, Jerry Lumpe, Bob Porterfield, and Bob Keegan, all named All-Stars with other teams after leaving the Yankees. Clint Courtney would be the 1952 A.L. Rookie of the Year runner-up after the Yankees traded him to the Browns, and Bill Virdon was the 1955 N.L. Rookie of the Year with the Cardinals (and then Yankee manager from 1974 to 1975!).
But the most talented player who just couldn't find the playing time in New York was Jack Eugene Jensen, born March 9, 1927, in San Francisco. His parents divorced when he was 5, and he grew up poor, his mother working six days a week, 12 hours a day. Jensen said the family moved 16 times between kindergarten and eighth grade -- "every time the rent came due."
After serving in the U.S. Navy during World War II, Jensen went to the University of California in 1946 on the G.I. Bill. There he became one of the most famous college players in the country, leading Cal to the Rose Bowl. In 1947, he was the starting fullback as well as the team's top defensive back, and in 1948, he rushed for 1,000 yards and was an All-American.
He also was a tremendous two-way baseball player, pitching and hitting for the Golden Bears in 1947 as the won the very first College World Series, beating a Yale team that had George H.W. Bush playing first base. In 1949, he was an All-American in baseball, too.
His blond hair, good looks, and athletic accomplishments earned him the nickname "The Golden Boy."
Halfway through his junior year, Jensen left Berkeley to turn pro. Jensen would later say he couldn't risk playing a career-ending injury playing for free while teams -- baseball and football -- were trying to sign him to big-money contracts.
"There was a money tree growing in my backyard. Why shouldn't I pluck off the dollars when I wanted to?"Jensen considered a number of offers, including from the Yankees, before signing a three-year, $75,000 contract with the Oakland Oaks of the Pacific Coast League. Jensen said he thought he'd face better competition in the Pacific Coast League, the top minor league of the era, than he would at the bottom of the Yankee farm system. He was right about it being more of a challenge -- he hit an unimpressive .261/.317/.394 in 510 plate appearances with the Oaks.
At the end of the year, the Oaks sold his contract (and that of Billy Martin, another Northern California kid) to the Yankees.
That same year, Jensen married his high school sweetheart, Zoe Ann Olsen, an Olympic diver. (By age 18, she had won 14 national diving championships and a silver medal in the 1948 Olympics.) "Together they looked like a Nordic god and goddess," Sports Illustrated reported. Nicknamed "the sweethearts of sports," they were the Dansby Swanson and Mallory Pugh of their era. More than 1,000 people attended their wedding.
Jensen would start the 1950 season not in the minors but in the Bronx. He joined the Yankees in a time of flux. They though they'd won the 1949 World Series, the Yankees knew they had to make some changes, with 35-year-old Joe DiMaggio nearing the end of his career. And their heir apparent was not Mickey Mantle -- at the time an 18-year-old shortstop playing in the Class C league, the equivalent of A-ball today -- but the 23-year-old Jensen.
But Jensen disappointed, hitting just .171/.247/.300 in 70 at-bats, and only starting in 13 games. Watching from the bench most of the season, Jensen would later lament the lost year of development, saying he'd have been better off playing every day in the Pacific Coast League.
The Yankees won the pennant for a second straight year, and in the World Series he once again was left on the bench. His only action was as a pinch runner in Game 3 as the Yankees swept the Phillies. That "Moonlight Graham" appearance would be his only taste of the post-season in an 11-year career.
The following year would be DiMaggio's last, and Mantle's first. Jensen began the year as the Yankees' starting left fielder and proved he belonged, hitting .296/.371/.509 through the end of July... and then, shockingly, was demoted to Triple-A and replaced with previously forgotten Yankee Bob Cerv.
I can see why they called up Cerv -- the University of Nebraska stand-out was tearing up Triple-A, leading the American Association in batting average (.349), home runs (26), triples (21), RBIs (101), and total bases (261) -- but why demote Jensen, who had a 140 OPS+ in the majors? Maybe the Yankees felt the brash 23-year-old needed to be taken down a peg. In any event, Cerv hit just .214/.333/.250 in August and was sent back to Triple-A, but Jensen also was left down there. He hit .263/.344/.469 and was recalled after the Triple-A season ended, only getting into three games (he went 3-for-9).
Mantle, too, had started the season with the Yankees, and after hitting .260/.341/.423 through the middle of July, was sent down to Triple-A. But he hit .361/.445/.651 in 166 at-bats, and unlike Jensen was back in the bigs by August 24. He would play pretty much every game the rest of the season, hitting .284/.370/.495 in 95 at-bats.
The torch had clearly been passed -- Jensen was no longer the heir apparent to DiMaggio. In the World Series that year, Mantle was the starting right fielder, and Jensen wasn't even on the post-season roster.
Jensen was so disappointed with how the Yankees had treated him in 1951 that he talked to the San Francisco 49ers about switching to pro football, but ultimately decided to stick with baseball.
Never shy about what he said to reporters, Jensen told The Sporting News on October 24, 1951:
"I felt so badly about the treatment that I received from the Yankees that, although I was in New York at the end of the season, I didn't feel like sticking around to even watch the club play in any of the World's Series games."Despite blasting his manager in the press, Jensen was still the property of the Yankees. That off-season, teams were circling, hoping to pry away the talented but disgruntled outfielder. There were newspaper reports of offers from the St. Louis Browns, the Detroit Tigers, the Philadelphia Athletics, the Washington Senators, the Cleveland Indians, and the Boston Red Sox -- with one rumor being Ted Williams to the Bronx in exchange for Jensen and several other players. (A Red Sox scout called the rumored deal "a lot of hogwash.")
"I do not feel the Yankees were justified in sending me to the minor leagues. When I was shipped to Kansas City, I was doing as good a job as any Yankee outfielder and better than some of them. I was hitting .296, which was ten points better than Hank Bauer and 30 points better than Joe DiMaggio, Gene Woodling and Mickey Mantle. Yet Casey Stengel didn't give me the chance I felt I deserved."
Sportswriters spent the off-season speculating whether DiMaggio would retire, and if he did, whether Jensen or Mantle would take over as the center fielder, as there were still concerns that Mantle, who had hurt his knee in the 1951 World Series, wouldn't be fully recovered by the start of the season.
On Opening Day, April 16, 1952, it was Jackie Jensen in center and Mickey Mantle in right. Jensen went 0-for-5 with a GIDP; Mantle, 3-for-4 with a double, a walk, and a stolen base! Seven games into the season, Jensen was 2-for-17 (.118) and found himself on the bench. He'd never play for the Yankees again. On May 3, the Golden Boy was traded to the Washington Senators along with Spec Shea, Jerry Snyder, and Archie Wilson in exchange for Irv Noren and Tom Upton.
In two years with the Senators, Jensen hit an impressive .276/.359/.407 (112 OPS+), but the team was terrible, and Jensen wasn't happy. Still just 26 years old, he later said he had almost quit after the 1953 season... particularly after a harrowing flight to Japan for a series of exhibition games with a squad of All-Stars that included Yankees Yogi Berra, Eddie Lopat, and Billy Martin. That experience gave Jensen a lifelong fear of flying, a phobia that became so intense eventually he could only fly with the help of sleeping pills... and a hypnotist!
He might have quit if not for the trade on December 9, 1953, that sent him to the Boston Red Sox for pitcher Mickey McDermott and outfielder Tom Umphlett. He was homesick, he hated flying, and he now had two little kids at home. Red Sox general manager Joe Cronin convinced Jensen to come to the Red Sox, telling him that Fenway Park was tailor made for his swing. Cronin was right: Jensen was a career .279/.369/.460 hitter, but .298/.400/.514 at Fenway.
It was in Boston that Jensen finally lived up to the hype, becoming a two-time All-Star and winning the A.L. MVP Award in 1958 and a Gold Glove in 1959. During his seven seasons in Boston, he hit .282/.374/.478 in 4,519 plate appearances. In his MVP season, Jensen hit .286/.396/.535 (148 OPS+) with 31 doubles, 35 home runs, and a league-leading 122 RBIs. During his peak with the Red Sox, 1954 to 1959, Jensen's average season was .285/.378/.490 (127 OPS+) with 28 doubles, 26 home runs, 111 RBIs, 14 stolen bases, and 3.6 bWAR. During those six seasons, no one in the American League -- not Mickey Mantle, not Ted Williams, not Al Kaline -- had more runs batted in than Jackie Jensen.
Of course, Mantle was the far better player -- even in Jensen's MVP season, Mantle had more runs, hits, home runs, walks, and a 188 OPS+ -- but Jensen's 127 OPS+ between 1954 and 1959 would have been an upgrade over the aging Hank Bauer's 110 OPS+ in right or the left field merry-go-round of Norm Siebern (113 OPS+), Irv Noren (107 OPS+), Enos Slaughter (103 OPS+), and previously forgotten Yankee Hector Lopez (101 OPS+). Casey Stengel would later say the Jensen trade was the worst one the Yankees had made while he was manager.
Despite his success, Jensen was sometimes booed by the Boston fans, just as they sometimes booed Ted Williams. There even was an article in Sport magazine, "What Do They Want From Jackie Jensen?", taking Red Sox fans to task for their unreasonably high demands from the Golden Boy. In 1956, in a game at Fenway Park against the Yankees, the hometown fans were razzing Jensen so much that teammates had to restrain him from going into the stands after a fan. Later that same game, Williams misplayed a wind-blown fly ball from Mantle, and the fans booed lustily. The very next play, Williams made a leaping catch at the scoreboard to rob Yogi Berra of a double. But Williams, still furious, spit into the crowd. He was later fined $5,000.
And Jackie was unhappy to be away from home. He and Zoe Ann had bought a house near Lake Tahoe, where they could both ski and golf year-round, as well as hit the casinos. They also had a home in Oakland, and a restaurant there, and each year Jensen hosted a pro-am golf tournament. But the marriage was struggling. Zoe Ann, once nationally known for her Olympic exploits, was frustrated to be a stay-at-home mom in the shadow of her famous husband, and Jackie became angry if she engaged in her favorite outdoor hobbies, suspecting there were men around.
Jensen's fear of flying also had become even more intense. Sometimes he was so drugged up that he had to be carried on and off the plane, fueling rumors that he was a drunk. Other times he took trains or even drove while his teammates flew.
Once again Jensen was talking about retirement, and in Spring Training 1957, the Red Sox allowed him to train with the San Francisco Seals, Boston's Triple-A team, rather than having to go to Florida. But he was still miserable. That year, he told Sports Illustrated:
“In baseball you get to the point where you don’t think you have a family. It just looks like I’m not built for this life like some ballplayers. You are always away from home and you’re lonesome, and as soon as I can, I intend to get out.”The 32-year-old Jensen announced his retirement after the 1959 season, and he spent 1960 home with Zoe Ann and their children and running his restaurant. But he returned in 1961. After hitting just .130 in April, Jensen took a train from Detroit home to Reno, determined to quit once again. After a week away, he rejoined the team and had six hits in his next 10 at-bats. By the end of the season he was at .263/.350/.392, and he quit again. This time for good.
After leaving baseball, Jensen invested in real estate and a golf course, but lost most of his money. He then got a job working for a Lake Tahoe casino, was a national spokesman for Camel cigarettes, Wonder Bread, and Gillette, and even tried selling cars. Ironically, Jackie found himself on the road almost as much as he had been as a ballplayer. In 1963, he and Zoe Ann divorced, remarried, and then divorced again.
In 1967, Jensen became a TV sportscaster, married his producer Katharine Cortesi, and eventually teamed up with Keith Jackson calling college football games for ABC, and was a college baseball coach, first at the University of Nevada-Reno and then at the University of California. He managed the Red Sox team in the New York Penn League in 1970. In 1977, Jackie and Katharine moved to Virginia and started a Christmas tree farm while he coached baseball at a military academy. About five years later, on July 14, 1982, he died of a heart attack at age 55.
You Don't Know Jack(ie):
- How good would Jackie Jensen have been as a Yankee? Maybe not great. He was a career .279/.369/.460 hitter, but just .238/.326/.398 at Yankee Stadium, which -- especially in that era -- was famously death on right-handed batters. Fenway Park was much more to his liking!
- Born in San Francisco in 1927, it's no surprise Jensen's favorite player as a kid was Joe DiMaggio, who made his debut with the San Francisco Seals when Jensen was a 5 years old. When Jensen made his major league debut, on April 18, 1950, DiMaggio went 3-for-6 with a triple in a 15-10 win over the Red Sox. Two weeks later, on May 3, Jensen made his first start, playing left field and batting second, and DiMaggio was in center and batting fourth.
- Jensen wore #36 at Cal. When he came up with the Yankees, he was first issued #40, then switched to #27, and finally to #25. (With the Senators, he wore #8, then #4; in Boston, he first wore #30 but primarily wore #4.) Currently, #40 is worn by Luis Severino. Other famous 40's include Chien-Ming Wang (2005-2009), Andy Hawkins (1989-1991), and Lindy McDaniel (1968-1973). #27 has been worn by Giancarlo Stanton since 2018; prior to him, it was worn by Austin Romine (2016-2017). It also was the number worn by Bob Wickman (1993-1996), Butch Wynegar (1982-1986), and Woodie Held (1954-1957). Gleyber Torres has worn #25 since 2018; it also was worn by Mark Teixeira (2009-2016), Jason Giambi (2002-2008), Joe Girardi (1996-1999), Jim Abbott (1993-1994), Tommy John (1979-1989), and Joe Pepitone (1962-1969).
- Jensen is one of six major leaguers to graduate from Oakland High School, but the only Yankee. Cal has sent 83 players to the majors, including twenty Yankees -- most notably, early 1990s pitcher Chuck Cary, 1930s infielder Lyn Lary, and 1990 A.L. ROY runner-up Kevin Maas.
- The Yankees during spring training in 1951 tinkered with the idea of using Jensen into a pitcher. Jensen had been a star pitcher at Cal, including pitching in the 1947 College World Series, and had pitched in a winter league that off-season. But he was bombed in a handful of spring training innings -- while crushing as a hitter -- and the Yankees decided to leave him in the outfield.
- College teammates said Jensen wasn't afraid of flying at Cal. His second wife Katharine said the phobia came from a near-miss experience on a flight early in his baseball career -- he looked out the window and saw another plane coming straight at him! The two planes managed to avoid each other, but he was never comfortable on a plane again.
- Billy Martin, who also had grown up in Northern California and was Jensen's teammate on both the Oakland Oaks and the Yankees, was merciless when it came to teasing Jensen about his fear of flying. In 1953, on a flight from Okinawa to Honshu to play a series of exhibition games in Japan, the plane ran into a bad storm and was bouncing pretty hard. Jensen, who wouldn't get on a plane without the help of tranquilizers, was blissfully sleeping through the turbulence. Martin found a lifejacket and put it on, then stood over Jensen and shouted "We're going down!"
- Arthur Ellen, a hypnotist that Jensen had used to try to cure his fear of flying, believed Jackie wasn't aerophobic at all. It was really a fear of losing his family. "Subconsciously, it developed as a good reason to leave the Red Sox and go home," the hypnotist said.
- Jensen is featured prominently in Norman Rockwell's famous 1957 painting, The Rookie. Jensen is the one seated on the bench tying his shoe in the middle of the painting. Standing behind him is Ted Williams, and sitting on the bench next to him is pitcher Frank Sullivan (#18). Wearing the catcher's mitt in the foreground is Sammy White, and the player with his hand over his mouth to the far right is Billy Goodman. Jensen, Sullivan, and White had gone to Rockwell's studio in Massachusetts to pose for the painting; the images of Williams and Goodman were based on photos. The shirtless player was one of Rockwell's assistants, and "the rookie" holding the suitcase was a local high school student!
- Boston sportswriters named Jensen the team's MVP in 1954, when he hit .276/.359/.472 with 25 home runs and 117 RBIs. I guess they were tired of giving the award to Ted Williams, who hit .345/.513/.635 that year, albeit in just 117 games as he had broken his collarbone in spring training. Williams didn't qualify for the batting title that year because he had only 386 at-bats... mostly due to his league-leading 136 walks. The rule was subsequently changed from at-bats to plate appearances.
- After Jensen was acquired by the Washington Senators, manager Bucky Harris -- who managed the Yankees when they won the 1947 World Series -- pulled him aside and told him he was the right fielder and he'd hit third. "No pep talk, no nothing, but he made it sound like I was the right fielder and third place hitter for a long time to come," Jensen later recalled. "It made me feel good." The 1950s Senators had a number of ex-Yankees and several of them told reporters that Harris was a much more low-key, hands-off manager than Casey Stengel, and Jensen agreed. "With Stengel it was always 'watch for that curve ball' or 'watch for that change up'," Jensen said. "Bucky leaves you on your own up there." But Jensen would later say Stengel was the smartest manager he'd ever had.
- Stengel obliquely mentioned Jensen in his famously long, rambling testimony before the Senate Anti-Trust and Monopoly Subcommittee on July 8, 1958. Asked about legislation that would exempt baseball from federal anti-trust laws, Stengel said about 7,000 words without really saying anything. The hearing was held the day after the All-Star Game -- the Stengel-managed A.L. All-Stars won, 4-3 -- and in the American League starting lineup were Jensen and two other ex-Yankees, Bob Cerv and Gus Triandos. Stengel was asked if the Yankees were going to continue to "monopolize" the World Series, and his confusing answer: "Well, I will tell you. I got a little concerned yesterday in the first three innings when I saw the three players I had gotten rid of [Jensen, Cerv, and Triandos] and I said when I lost nine what am I going to do? And when I had a couple of my players I thought so great of that did not do so good up to the sixth inning I was more confused but I finally had to go and call on a young man in Baltimore that we don't own and the Yankees don't own him and he is doing pretty well and I would actually have to to tell you that we are more the Greta Garbo-type now from success. We are being hated. I mean from the ownership and all we are being hated. Every sport that gets too great or one individual -- but if we made twenty-seven cents and it pays to have a winner at home why would you have a good winner in your park if you were an owner? That is the result of baseball. An owner gets most of the money at home, and it is up to him and his staff to do better or they ought to be discharged." After befuddling the committee with answers like that for 45 minutes, Stengel was excused and Mickey Mantle called upon. His opening statement: "My views are just about the same as Casey's."
- Casey Stengel later said Jensen plus Spec Shea, Jerry Snyder, and Archie Wilson to the Senators for Irv Noren and Tom Upton was the worst trade the Yankees made during his tenure. But in reality it was pretty much a wash for the Yankees. Jensen, in two seasons, would be worth 4.9 bWAR for the Senators before being traded. Shea, a right-handed pitcher who had been an All-Star with the Yankees as a rookie, pitched four years in Washington and was worth 2.9 bWAR. Snyder was a good-glove, no-hit infielder worth -0.1 bWAR in seven seasons with the Senators. (You must have a really good glove to last seven seasons with a 55 OPS+!) Wilson, at one point seen as a good prospect but now a 28-year-old minor league journeyman, only played 26 games in Washington before being traded. In exchange, the Yankees received the 27-year-old Irv Noren, an outfieldefirst baseman who played five years in New York and was an All-Star in 1954; he was worth 7.9 bWAR, making the trade essentially even by bWAR. (The other player the Yankees received, minor league infielder Tom Upton, never made it back to the bigs.) Prior to the 1957 season, Noren was traded to the Kansas City Athletics as part of a monster 13-player trade that included Clete Boyer, third baseman of the early 1960s dynasty!
- The two players Washington got from Boston for Jensen, Mickey McDermott and Tom Umphlett, were both future Yankees. McDermott was a left-handed pitcher whose father, Maurice McDermott, had played in the minors with Lou Gehrig. Mickey was just 25 years old at the time of the trade but had been in the majors for six seasons, going 48-34 with a 3.80 ERA (114 ERA+). In two years with the Senators, McDermott went 17-25 (but with a 3.58 ERA), then prior to the 1957 season was traded to the Yankees as part of a seven-player deal; he went 2-6 with a 4.24 ERA as a swingman, and closed out the Game 2 win in the 1956 World Series. After that one season in New York, he was part of the trade with the A's that brought back Clete Boyer.
- Umphlett, a 22-year-old infielder, was traded back to the Red Sox in 1955, and then the Red Sox traded him to the Yankees in 1962 for infielder Billy Gardner. He would spend 1962 and 1963 in Triple-A for the Yankees, then ended his career in the minors with the Minnesota Twins -- the team that had been the Senators until 1961.
- In 1956, the anthology television show Cavalcade of America had an episode called The Jackie Jensen Story. Jackie had a cameo as the adult version of himself, but the 30-minute episode was focused on Jackie's teenage years and the influence of his middle high school coach, a man named Ralph Kerchum who became a father figure. The coach was played by Ross Elliott, a Bronx native whose most memorable role might have been as the director in the Vitameatavegamin episode of I Love Lucy.
- Jensen's MVP in 1958 broke a string of four straight MVP awards for Yankees -- Yogi Berra in 1954 and 1955 followed by Mickey Mantle in 1956 and 1957. Nellie Fox of the White Sox won it in 1959, and then the Yankees won it four years in a row again -- Roger Maris in 1960 and 1961, Mantle in 1962, and Elston Howard in 1963. Then a long drought -- the next Yankee to win it would be Thurman Munson in 1976.
- Going by bWAR, Mantle should have won it a third straight year in 1958 -- his 8.7 bWAR led the league, followed by Frank Lary at 6.7 and Al Kaline at 6.5. Jensen's 4.9 was 10th that year. Of course, they didn't have bWAR back then!
- Jackie won a Gold Glove in 1959; it was just the third year of the award's existence, or he might have won more. "Right field in Boston is a bitch, the sun field, and few play it well," Ted Williams said. "Jackie Jensen was the best I saw at it." Jensen was renowned for his throwing arm -- he twice led the league in assists, and twice led the league in double plays as an outfielder. One Yankee scout said he had the best arm he'd seen since previously forgotten Yankee Bob Meusel, usually said to have the best cannon in baseball history until Roberto Clemente came along.
- Jensen was well known for his brashness, especially compared to Mantle's aw shucks attitude. Mantle, asked if he thought he could beat out Jensen to replace DiMaggio in center field, humbly replied that there were three positions in the outfield and he hoped to win any one of them. Jensen, on the other hand, vowed he'd "out-run, out-hit, and out-throw" Mantle, an arrogant answer that didn't go over well with teammates. Joe DiMaggio, asked what he thought of the duel for his old job, quipped that Mantle was "out-quoting" Jensen.
- When Mantle was asked what he thought about Jensen's quote, he replied: "I don't know what to make of that guy." Jensen would later say he was misquoted, but reports of his cockiness would follow him throughout his Yankee years. Later in life, Jensen said people mistook his shyness and anxiety for arrogance and rudeness.
- According to Sports Illustrated, Jensen is the only player to have played in the East-West football game, the Rose Bowl, the World Series, and the Major League All-Star Game. I'll take their word for it!
- As a freshman at Cal, the first time Jensen touched the ball -- on a punt return -- he ran it back for a 56-yard touchdown. Cal quarterback Charles Erb said they'd never seen anything like it. "He was all over the field, dodging and leaping over guys. The rest of us just stood there on the sidelines with our mouths open. Finally somebody said, 'Who in the hell is that guy?' "
- Jensen is one of two "forgotten" Yankees in the College Football Hall of Fame -- the other is 1960s catcher Jake Gibbs. (Other Yankees in the College Football Hall of Fame include John Elway, who was in the Yankee minor league system before joining the Denver Broncos, and Deion Sanders, who was on the Yankees in 1989 and 1990.) Jensen also is a member of the Cal Hall of Fame, the Bay Area Sports Hall of Fame, and... ugh... the Boston Red Sox Hall of Fame.
- Despite his speed -- Jensen led the league in triples in 1956 and in stolen bases in 1954, and was in the top five in stolen bases in six seasons -- Jackie also was prone to grounding into double plays, leading the league in 1954, 1956, and 1957. His 32 GIDPs in 1954 was the major league record until Boston's Jim Rice hit into 36 in 1984, which is still the single-season record. Rice also had 35 in 1985. Jensen's 32 is tied for third with four others. The most by a Yankee? Dave Winfield with 30 in 1983, which is tied for 14th.
- Jensen lost most of his baseball earnings through a series of bad investments. His ex-wife, former Olympian Zoe Ann, later became a blackjack dealer in Reno to pay the bills.
- Jensen had four appearances on the popular show Home Run Derby, and set a record for most home runs in one match when he defeated Ernie Banks, 14-11, in Episode 24. The 25 combined home runs also was a record. He took on Mickey Mantle in Episode 3, with Mantle winning, 9-2, then defeated Rocky Colavito, 3-2, in Episode 25. He rematched against Mantle in Episode 26, with Mantle winning again, 13-10. Jensen set another record in that contest when he became the only player to hit four home runs in a row, and then a fifth home run in a row. That episode was supposed to be the season one finale, but it turned out to be the last episode of the series: The show's host and producer, Mark Scott, died of a heart attack at age 45, shortly after the last episode aired, and two months later the show's 64-year-old director Benjamin Stoloff also died. Rather than replacing them, the show was cancelled.
- Jensen's last game came against the Yankees, on October 1st, 1961, at Yankee Stadium. He appeared as a pinch hitter and popped out to shortstop Tony Kubek. In the 4th inning of that game, Roger Maris hit his 61st home run, breaking Babe Ruth's single-season record!
- Jackie and Zoe Ann had two sons, Jon and Jay, and a daughter, Jan. Jay's son, Tucker Jensen, was a pitcher in the Blue Jays farm system in 2011 and 2012.
2023.06.01 13:12 InvestWithTribe 📢 Stay Informed with Invest with Tribe Newsletter! 📰
 | submitted by InvestWithTribe to StockMarketIndia [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 13:12 InvestWithTribe 📢 Stay Informed with Invest with Tribe Newsletter! 📰
 | submitted by InvestWithTribe to dalalstreetbets [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 11:46 Imaginary_Map_6570 Phoenix Labs please hear me out, I have some suggestions.
I know this is most likely not going to reach Phoenix Labs, but if anyone from Phoenix Labs is reading this please hear out some of my suggestions:
submitted by Imaginary_Map_6570 to dauntless [link] [comments]
- Weapon balance changes: This is personally one change that I would love to see. Even if its once or twice a season weapon special, mod or behemoth weapon changes would be a great way to shake up the meta. Imagine a world where cruel riftstrike is a meta special. It doesn't have to be meta shaking changes something simple like reducing the cooldown on phalanx weapon rockets to make them a more usable weapon would be a nice refresher to the game and could encourage more people to use the weapon.
- Make future events weapons easier or more worth the effort: lets be honest the silver sword is good but the grind is a massive put off. No one really wants to spend days of playtime to get a single weapon, but a simple fix could be to either to make the event weapons easier to get or just make each step of the quests give more rewards.
- Reduce slayer path prices: I know just playing the game will give me all the resources I need to be able to get the slayer path upgrades, but I have nearly 500 hours in the game and i probably have around half of the slayer path upgrades. Its a small change but its a quality of life change that I'm sure a lot of the casual player base would much appreciate.
- Leader board gauntlet rewards: Obviously we have trials leader board rewards such as the champions armour and weapon transmogs and something similar for gauntlet would be a good incentive for guilds to want to get higher in the gauntlet. A simple idea would be to make it like trials where there would be transmogs that are available to everyone for a certain amount of gauntlet coins and then have some reskinned transmogs for top 25 guilds that would cost more gauntlet coins or something similar.
- A new weapon: This is one that has been asked for years and I'm sure that you have heard it 1 million times but its for good reason. A new weapon would be amazing for dauntless because its been years since a new weapon was released and a new weapon would be such an amazing thing because it would allow the community to be able to learn an entirely new weapon and master it.
2023.06.01 08:18 eyoung1103 [US-CA][H] Keyboards (Memento, Bias, Nazare, Salvation, Mode80 FE, Elongate, E7-V2, Piggy60, Sagittarius, Pandora, AVA, Portal, CLS-2/65, Fjell, Think6.5 v2, Sunsetter R1, Noon, Enjoy), GMK (Lavander, Moomin, Bento R2, Honor & Oblivion), Deskmats & RAMAs [W] Paypal, Local Cash/Venmo
*Hi MM!
Timestamp
Prices include shipping & PP fees to CONUS (via USPS) – Not shipping international at the moment, sorry! Many items are priced at my cost or below.
Not FCFS but priority given to bundles > local (SoCal - Orange County (92708)) > those willing to do asking price > others
Bundling will let me give you better discounts on the items & everything can be OBO - no lowball offers please! Always willing to negotiate prices but most prices are pretty firm given that they're at or below cost.
---# As always, thank you!
submitted by eyoung1103 to mechmarket [link] [comments]
Timestamp
Prices include shipping & PP fees to CONUS (via USPS) – Not shipping international at the moment, sorry! Many items are priced at my cost or below.
Not FCFS but priority given to bundles > local (SoCal - Orange County (92708)) > those willing to do asking price > others
Bundling will let me give you better discounts on the items & everything can be OBO - no lowball offers please! Always willing to negotiate prices but most prices are pretty firm given that they're at or below cost.
Please Comment before PM - Chats will be ignored – PLEASE DON’T USE REDDIT CHAT
Deskmats
| Name | Quantity | Price | Status | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| TinyMakesThings – Winter Bunny Deskmat | 1 | $35 shipped | Available | Brand new – Big Bunny |
| GMK Dots R2 (Loading) | 1 | $35 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| GMK Dots R2 (Line) | 1 | $35 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| Nono the Duck | 1 | $35 shipped | Available | BNIB (does not include plush) |
| Brushworks (Zandaka) | 1 | $35 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| Cyber Meka (BLK) | 1 | $35 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| GMK 80082 (Geo BL00) | 1 | $35 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| Just a Box (Sneakbox) | 1 | $35 shipped | Available | BNIB |
Keyboard(s) –
- All keyboards will come with either original box or a keyboard case, unless otherwise indicated
- Will be shipped USPS priority
- If PCB is mill-maxed = 0305 sockets used, unless otherwise indicated
- Keyboards will come unbuiilt, unless otherwise indicated
- Some keyboards include stabilizers, if so the format, Stabilizer Name (Stems lubed w/ x, Wires lubed w/ x), is used
| Keyboard | Price | Color | Plate | PCB | Stabilizers | Extras | Status | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| ZTBoards Noon | $675 shipped, $660 local | Navy | Half Alu | Solder (Mill-maxed) | Durock v1s (205g0, Dielectric) | 2x plates (Full Alu & Full FR4), 1x PCB + Daughterboard | Available | Like new, used for about 2-3 weeks, comes w/ carrying case, keycaps/switches not included |
| TastyKeys Enjoy | $760 shipped, $730 local | e-white w/ brass bottom | Carbon Fiber | Hotswap | None | 1x PC plate & 1x Solder PCB | Available | Like new, used for less than a week. Comes w/ carrying case and no keycaps/switches/stabilizers |
| Charue Sunsetter R1 | $500 shipped, $480 local | Black (B-Stock) | Brass | Solder | None | 1x Steel Plate, Eclipse Badge kit, rubber plate sheet & 1x Solder PCB | Available | Brand new, unbuilt – Gaskets installed on case |
| GrayStudio Think6.5 v2 1u | $540 shipped, $520 local | Deep Ocean/Polycarb, Deep Ocean weight | UHMWPE | Solder (Mill-maxed) | Durock v2 (205g0,BDZ) | 1x FR4 plate, 1x POM plate, 1x Solder PCB, extra case feet & gaskets, Cat artisan & default Lightbulb badge (anchor installed) | Available | switches/keycaps not included. Gaskets have been installed on case. Basically new |
| Mekanisk Fjell R6 | $470 shipped, $450 local | Gray | Brass | Hotswap | Durock v1(205g0, Dielectric) | 1x Solder PCB, Brass plate & 2x Mekanisk foams | Available | switches/keycaps not included. Basically new, used for less than a few hours |
| Parallel Limited Portal | $440 shipped, $430 local | Navy | Alu | Solder (Mill-maxed) | None | 1x FR4 plate, 1x Solder PCB + Daughterboard, 1x 30A o-ring | Available | Like new, used for less than a week. DOES NOT come with carrying case & no keycaps/switches/stabilizers |
| Ori CLS-2/65 BE | $925 shipped, $900 local | Black | FR4 | Solder (Mill-maxed) | Owlabs (205g0, Dielectric) | 1x Alu plate, 1x Solder PCB + Daughterboard, 2x replacement daughterboards & gaskets, 1x Gold Leaf Logo | Available | Like new, used for less than 2 weeks. Comes w/ carrying case & stabilizers, does not include keycaps or switches |
| Sneakbox AVA | $565 shipped, $550 local | Black | POM | Solder (Mill-maxed) | Durock V2 (205g0, Dielectric) | 1x Brass plate, 1x Solder PCB, SS weight, extra PC bottom, extra foam, gaskets & feet | Available | Basically new, used for less than week. Comes w/ carrying case & no keycaps/switches/stabilizers |
| PearlBoards Pandora | $820 shipped, $800 local | Deep Black w/ SS weight | Brass | Solder | None | 1x Hotswap PCB, 1x PC Half plate, 1x POM half plate | Available | Brand new (opened for pictures), will come in original packaging. |
| Gondolindrim Sagittarius | $590 shipped, $570 local | Navy/Silver | Brass | Solder | None | 1x PCB, Gaskets & 1x FR4 plate | Available | Brand New (opened for pictures), will come in carrying case |
| JackyLabs Piggy60 | $825 shipped, $810 local | PC (PVD Silver inner frame & brass weight) | PVD Silver Brass | Solder (Mill-maxed) | Owlabs (205g0, dielectric) | 1x Solder PCB, extra daughterboard w/ JST, Gaskets, thick feet & 1x PC Plate | Available | Light used (~1 week), will come in original box |
| Elongate | $400 shipped, $390 local | Black | Alu | Solder | None | 1x PCB & 1x FR4 plate | Available | BNIB (only opened for inspection & pictures) |
| E7-V2 | $710 shipped, $690 local | e-white | FR4 | Solder (Mill-maxed) | Owlabs (205g0, dielectric) | Brass Logo & Backplate, 1x Solder PCB & Mute pad, 1x Brass plate | Available | Light use, switches not included |
| Mode 80 (FE) | $740 shipped, $720 local | Dark Gray | Alu | Solder (Mill-maxed) | Staebies (205g0, dielectric) | 1x Solder PCB, Gaskets, 3x plates (POM, PC & FR4) | Available | Light use, switches not included |
| Leaf65 | $690 shipped, $675 local | e-white/PC (PVD Silver inner frame & brass weight) | PVD Silver Brass | Solder (Mill-maxed) | Durock V2 (205g0, Dielectric) | 1x Solder PCB, 1x FR4 Plate, extra foams | Available | Light used, switches & keycaps not included |
| Salvation | $400 shipped, $390 local | Silver | FR4 | Solder | None | Solder PCB | Available | BNIB, will come with carrying case (only opened for inspection & pictures) |
| Nazare 1-60 | $865 shipped, $850 local | E-white/Black | Alu | Solder | None | Solder PCB & CF plate | Available | BNIB, will come with carrying case (only opened for inspection & pictures) |
| Baionlenja Bias | $825 shipped, $800 local | Black | Alu | Solder | None | Solder PCB + Daughterboard, misc kit & 1x PC plate | Available | BNIB, will come with carrying case (only opened for inspection & pictures) |
| Eniigma Memento | $750 shipped, $740 local | Black | Alu | Solder | None | Solder PCB & PC Full plate | Available | BNIB, will come with carrying case (only opened for inspection & pictures) |
Keycap sets
- Keycaps will be shipped in Ziplock bags unless otherwise indicated
- Shipping via USPS priority
| Keycaps | Sets | Price | Status | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| MilkWay PBT WoB | Base | $60 shipped | Available | Was part of original batch of misaligned legends from Bolsa (considered B-stock) |
| GMK Bento R2 | Traditional Base, Novelties & Spacebars | $240 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| GMK Honor | Light Base | $120 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| GMK Lavender | Base, Novelties & Spacebars | $195 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| GMK Moomin | Base, Novelties & Spacebars | $265 shipped | Available | BNIB |
| GMK Oblivion R3 | Extension | $40 shipped | Available | BNIB |
Artisans & Misc
| Artisans | Price | Status | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
| GMK Honor - Kabuto | $65 shipped | Available | Never mounted |
| GMK Honor - Katana | $65 shipped | Available | Never mounted |
| GMK Bento - Kanji | $65 shipped | Available | Never mounted |
| GMK Bento - Waves | $65 shipped | Available | Never mounted |
| GMK Bento - O | $65 shipped | Available | Never mounted |
| JTK Trays - standard | $20 for 2 or $12 each | 7 Available | 2 minimum if shipped, 1 minimum if local |
| JTK Trays - max | $55 for 2 or $25 each | 9 Available | 2 minimum if shipped, 1 minimum if local |
2023.06.01 08:03 nnalien [TOMT] [MOVIE] [2000s] Animated Christmas film about living toys going on a journey to find a toymaker
A 2D animated children's film; could have also been from the 90s. One of the toys was an elf christmas tree ornament made of unravelling fabric. Another of the toys was a wooden horse with a wheel on each foot. There was a toy that could only talk after someone pulled the cord on its back. I think there were other main characters but these are the only ones I remember; the elf especially is super distinct in mind, I think I could draw him to this day. They needed to find the guy that made them because they were in disrepair and needed him to fix them or something. I think one of the toys died falling through the ice as they crossed a frozen lake. The toys may have been on the run from soldiers (not too sure about this point). There may have been kind of an isekai element where the main characters traveled from a different world to the toy universe (even less sure about this point). Hope someone else remembers this film. I seem to remember this movie making me really emotional so its really bothering me that I can't find it.
submitted by nnalien to tipofmytongue [link] [comments]
2023.06.01 07:43 DragonsTreasures Ring Watermelon Hydro Genuine Lab Created Gem Sterling Silver Size T 1/2 US 10
 | submitted by DragonsTreasures to SilverGemJewellery [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 07:35 Awkward_Impact_6186 Nature of monsters ch 5
Vermas (Venmom) pov
The werewolf named Davey continued talking about how safe my son's job usually was and talking about how his job was just to report if he senses any monsters while delivering packages. It still did little to calm my worry, after all what if another monster senses him!
With that Davey laughed "werewolves are the only race that can identify other monsters by scent, and while some werewolves might be criminals, the worst we've ever encountered was a mob boss a few decades ago." "Besides, will might be scrawny for his age but he's fast, not much can actually catch him!" My nerves calmed a little more after Will told me that the last time a sniffer died on duty he was on his pad and got hit by a car.
I told him to be extra careful before he and Lim went to bed. A medic had patched Lim up the best he could but he was still missing a tooth. This paw was insane and it definitely tired us all out but I still had to continue speaking with Davey and Sasha. "You really surprised me by hugging him." For some reason she sounded relieved, like a great pressure was taken off off her shoulders. "Why?" I asked. "Most people fear fear monsters. I've seen really bad reactions, everything from disowning them to trying to kill them I their sleep. We literally have a task force meant to watch people who are turned by rouge vampires in order to guarantee their safety."
I was horrified, they were worried I would react like that?! I might have been scared at first but that's still my son, I could tell the moment I looked him in the eyes. "Can you tell me anything I need to know about him? Does he prefer his wolf form?" Davey turned to me "most werewolves don't prefer either form, but I see him napping in the communal area at HQ in his wolf form all the time after his shift. The cleaning crew are always pulling small pranks on him for leaving hair everywhere." It made sense, he always slept under a mountain of blankets, all this time he was trying to mimic the warmth of his fur. "As for parenting tips we can get you a large treadmill for your basement. Running at full speed can make any werewolf happy and keep them entertained."
Nodding I turned to Sasha "is there anything I need to know about his diet? Does he need to eat meat or can he continue eating fruits and vegetables?" With that they both turned to each other awkwardly before Sasha turned back to me. "Will and Davey eat lab meat with each other every couple days." She said quietly. Him eating meat didn't bother me, I just didn't want the smell of cooking meat in the house. There was a human refugee center nearby and they had a separate food court for meat, and the center was only a short shuttle ride away and I had made it clear that he could go whenever he needed to.
"As werewolves we need a lot more protein then humans." Davey explained. I nodded a long, it made sense upon seeing how his wolf form could allow him to fight an arxur with his bare hands, or were they paws now? "I have a question but I don't want to seem rude." "What is it?" "Why do you live in secret, you look strong and Will easily beat three terrorists!" With that Davey sighed. "It's a long story, a long time ago werewolves used to rade human farms during full moons to steal livestock, while others would rob and kill humans. Vampires used to feed solely on human blood too, and other monsters would prey upon them. But it only took one human discovering out weakness and surviving to tell the tale before everyone knew how to kill us, it only took one human stabbing a vampire in the chest with some broken furniture. After they knew our weaknesses they could easily kill us all, so over time we intergrated into human society in secret. Over centuries we became legunds and as humanity discovered how to make media to entertain we became the antagonists over those stories. The media has a lot of misinformation, like vampires being able to fly or werewolves not being in control of their wolf forms but they got one thing right, how to kill us. If you ask any human how to kill a werewolf they will tell you to use silver or kill them while we're in humans form, if you ask how to kill a vampire they'll tell you to stake them in the heart, decapitate then, or throw them into sunlight." " We also have extremely low birth rates world wide, with vampires having to infect humans to make more of themselves, and biting a human is seen as a SIN! There are under fifty thousand of us werewolves, and under twenty eight thousand vampires world wide, and were bothe the most common species!" "On top of all of that, humanity has been scaring themselves with stories about us for thousands of years, if they saw us it would be as though their nightmares came to life some would fear us, some might accept us like the humans who work with us, but many would call for genocide out of fear."
Finally understanding just how terrifying it must have been for Will to come clean about what he was I made a mental reminder to hug him extra hard and he woke up for work. I turned to Will's coffee machine, I normally only drink one cup a day but there was still more stuff and you talk about with Davey and Sasha so I needed more energy. Luckily I've seen Will brew with this thing so many times I know how to do it myself. "Not to be offensive Davey, but it was hilarious seeing Will moving in here in his wolf form" Sasha said barely containing her laughter. With that Davey began laughing "yeah, he's going to be fucked when he's full grown!"
After the realization of why he just said hit me I turned to Davey quickly " He's going to get bigger!?!"
Previous First
submitted by Awkward_Impact_6186 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
The werewolf named Davey continued talking about how safe my son's job usually was and talking about how his job was just to report if he senses any monsters while delivering packages. It still did little to calm my worry, after all what if another monster senses him!
With that Davey laughed "werewolves are the only race that can identify other monsters by scent, and while some werewolves might be criminals, the worst we've ever encountered was a mob boss a few decades ago." "Besides, will might be scrawny for his age but he's fast, not much can actually catch him!" My nerves calmed a little more after Will told me that the last time a sniffer died on duty he was on his pad and got hit by a car.
I told him to be extra careful before he and Lim went to bed. A medic had patched Lim up the best he could but he was still missing a tooth. This paw was insane and it definitely tired us all out but I still had to continue speaking with Davey and Sasha. "You really surprised me by hugging him." For some reason she sounded relieved, like a great pressure was taken off off her shoulders. "Why?" I asked. "Most people fear fear monsters. I've seen really bad reactions, everything from disowning them to trying to kill them I their sleep. We literally have a task force meant to watch people who are turned by rouge vampires in order to guarantee their safety."
I was horrified, they were worried I would react like that?! I might have been scared at first but that's still my son, I could tell the moment I looked him in the eyes. "Can you tell me anything I need to know about him? Does he prefer his wolf form?" Davey turned to me "most werewolves don't prefer either form, but I see him napping in the communal area at HQ in his wolf form all the time after his shift. The cleaning crew are always pulling small pranks on him for leaving hair everywhere." It made sense, he always slept under a mountain of blankets, all this time he was trying to mimic the warmth of his fur. "As for parenting tips we can get you a large treadmill for your basement. Running at full speed can make any werewolf happy and keep them entertained."
Nodding I turned to Sasha "is there anything I need to know about his diet? Does he need to eat meat or can he continue eating fruits and vegetables?" With that they both turned to each other awkwardly before Sasha turned back to me. "Will and Davey eat lab meat with each other every couple days." She said quietly. Him eating meat didn't bother me, I just didn't want the smell of cooking meat in the house. There was a human refugee center nearby and they had a separate food court for meat, and the center was only a short shuttle ride away and I had made it clear that he could go whenever he needed to.
"As werewolves we need a lot more protein then humans." Davey explained. I nodded a long, it made sense upon seeing how his wolf form could allow him to fight an arxur with his bare hands, or were they paws now? "I have a question but I don't want to seem rude." "What is it?" "Why do you live in secret, you look strong and Will easily beat three terrorists!" With that Davey sighed. "It's a long story, a long time ago werewolves used to rade human farms during full moons to steal livestock, while others would rob and kill humans. Vampires used to feed solely on human blood too, and other monsters would prey upon them. But it only took one human discovering out weakness and surviving to tell the tale before everyone knew how to kill us, it only took one human stabbing a vampire in the chest with some broken furniture. After they knew our weaknesses they could easily kill us all, so over time we intergrated into human society in secret. Over centuries we became legunds and as humanity discovered how to make media to entertain we became the antagonists over those stories. The media has a lot of misinformation, like vampires being able to fly or werewolves not being in control of their wolf forms but they got one thing right, how to kill us. If you ask any human how to kill a werewolf they will tell you to use silver or kill them while we're in humans form, if you ask how to kill a vampire they'll tell you to stake them in the heart, decapitate then, or throw them into sunlight." " We also have extremely low birth rates world wide, with vampires having to infect humans to make more of themselves, and biting a human is seen as a SIN! There are under fifty thousand of us werewolves, and under twenty eight thousand vampires world wide, and were bothe the most common species!" "On top of all of that, humanity has been scaring themselves with stories about us for thousands of years, if they saw us it would be as though their nightmares came to life some would fear us, some might accept us like the humans who work with us, but many would call for genocide out of fear."
Finally understanding just how terrifying it must have been for Will to come clean about what he was I made a mental reminder to hug him extra hard and he woke up for work. I turned to Will's coffee machine, I normally only drink one cup a day but there was still more stuff and you talk about with Davey and Sasha so I needed more energy. Luckily I've seen Will brew with this thing so many times I know how to do it myself. "Not to be offensive Davey, but it was hilarious seeing Will moving in here in his wolf form" Sasha said barely containing her laughter. With that Davey began laughing "yeah, he's going to be fucked when he's full grown!"
After the realization of why he just said hit me I turned to Davey quickly " He's going to get bigger!?!"
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