Post food hacks and bog slop here: No Boglims allowed. Of age, alive, consenting, non-related, cisgender goth chicks welcome. TWU SATIRE. This page does not reflect the real business
MKE, Cream City, Mil-town, Brew City, The Good Land.
I hung out with a buddy last night and he let me know he had stopped drinking which was awesome. I felt really dumb having a beer in my hand. I've been trying for years to quit with some success. It was very inspiring to see him alcohol free, especially since he and I have had quite a few rowdy drunken nights together lol.
Anyways it helped me realize I don't need it to have fun. I've identified the reason I still imbibe (I've drastically cut down, at least) is that I feel like I need it to have fun. Which really sucks. But I feel like I'm getting over that fallacy.
I'm getting married later this year and that is an event surrounded with booze. I still need to plan my bachelor party. Part of me wants to just do a solo camping trip so I won't feel the need to organize a night out with the boys getting blackout drunk. And then there's the open bar at my wedding. Don't get me wrong I absolutely can't wait to get married, I just am worried about booze. I don't think I'm gonna get wasted and make an ass of myself, but I'd rather not have it dull my big day.
Anyways, thanks for reading. Not drinking with you today.
Where people from each neighborhood can drop what art shows, concerts, bar events, sport games etc are happening across the city and in their neighborhoods
My wife and I currently have an 8 month daughter and she is the sweetest, easiest going baby. She’s everything I want in a child. Lately my wife has changed her idea of having 2 kids, and instead thinks we should just stay with our 1.
I’m pretty indifferent. I always wanted a daughter after growing up with a whole generation of boys. We can financially afford 2, but I think we are both worried the 1st set the bar pretty high (thus far, of course) for us.
So, if we went the route of only having 1 child, what would you say are some of the pros & cons, or things we should be aware of?
Thanks for any advice!
The Rotas-Sator Square is the same as the Rock and Roll Clock. Think yin-yang on a square. Christ is born at 9pm. Anti-Christ wakes inside Christ at 12am. Rocking (12am-3am) is to zigzag between the black stripes on a white field. At 3am Mercy hour Anti-Christ kills Christ. Rolling (3am-6am) is to zigzag between the white stripes on a black field. 6am is death (The Wall). Then the cycle repeats. Artists use the pictograms to build metaphors. It's kind of like the Mad Libs phrasal template word game. Here, once you know which words are for the good Christ and the bad Anti-Christ, the words can be combined to build metaphors and stories. When BB King says, "Same old story, same old song", he means White 4am and Grey 5am. White 4 being (same old black bar story white dot). Grey 5 being (same black outline old black outline song black bar). Also, the metaphors match each other. If you understand that apple = White 4 (apple white dot tree black bar) then you can see tree = Grey 5 (tree black outline of knowledge black bar) or student White 4 and teacher Grey 5 (Hot for Teacher by Van Halen). This is the world pulled over your eyes. The story between the lines. Metaphors built on this template surround us, and although the artists know how to write these songs, the fans don't know how to translate them. Slave is White 4. Fan or follower is Grey 5.
So I recently purchased a 2nd hand ebike. - Brand: Jimove MC - Battery: 36v and 5 bars. - Gear: 5 gears (Max 25kmph) - Mileage: 7000km - Previous owner usually charged overnight 8-12hours mostly used for deliveries. He kept it in storage for around 1 year before selling it to me.
When i plugged it in the first time for charging there was a spark (power wasn’t switched on yet), around 2 weeks ago. So far I have not much problem except missing 2-3kmph on gear 5 & battery won’t fully charge even after 8 hours on 40%/3bars capacity and will drain slightly fast.
A friend told me I have to change the fuse, is there any other things i have to look out for? And how important is the fuse? Will it explode if im not careful?
I might be dumb for not changing it for 2 weeks & i use it every 2-3days for 4 hours and charge it. Usually the charger heats up quite high.
ps sorry for bad english.
So as everyone knows who has seen the film, the big conflict near the end of the movie revolves around the idea of ‘canon’ events, which are the most pivotal moments in a Spider-Man’s/Woman’s life to shape them into the hero they are. When relating this to the Raimi trilogy, the film does show 2 events that seem to constitute as canon events: the upside-down kiss and Uncle Ben’s death. I was just wondering, based on what we saw in the trilogy, what are the ‘defining’ or ‘canon’ events of the Tobey Maguire Spider-Man? I have a list below of moments from each of the 3 films that might qualify:
Spider-Man - Peter is bitten by the radioactive spider - Peter’s selfishness causes Ben’s death - Spidey & MJ have the upside-down kiss - The death of Norman Osborn
Spider-Man 2 - Spider-Man No More - Spidey stops the runaway speeding train - Peter convinces Otto + Otto’s sacrifice - Peter & MJ start a relationship
Spider-Man 3 - Peter rids himself of the symbiote - Harry’s sacrifice to save Peter - Peter forgives Flint Marko for Ben’s death
I chose these as many of them have a correlation with events pertaining to many variants of the character in some form or fashion. I’d be curious to hear what you guys have to say about this topic, I found it quite interesting when it was brought up in the film. Thanks!
So, she gets invited to Grimmauld Place, and drags along the entire Weasley tribe. And then, not being grateful that she is living in an actual mansion with countless protective measures in London instead of a bloody hovel in the middle of nowhere, she starts acting like the boss and owner of Grimmauld Place, and tells Sirius off cause he wasn't there for Harry. She should just be grateful for the opportunity to steal the silverware, and keep her mouth shut.
So I started out at this company through their apprenticeship program (which was very good might I add, I did learn everything I know today) last year around November, started in the slow season and started on hourly + commission. After i think 2 months of hourly we switched over to straight commission. Now I’d say my numbers aren’t the best, I’m sitting at around the middle of the pack when it comes to revenue generated. We have about 24 guys in the road, I’d say only about 10 of us can actually run service calls, including myself. So lately I’ve been learning lots on the road by myself, but my numbers aren’t the best. But that’s because I really only like the service side and really hate upselling people on shit they don’t actually need on maintenance and service calls. Last 2 weeks I’ve been getting grilled by management for my numbers not being where they should be, I get where they’re coming from this is a business and they need to make money. But recently I’ve discovered through a guy that does sell a lot, that the only reason all the guys that are consistently at the top in revenue are pieces of shit. For example lie about mold being in the homeowners system, claim their condensate line is clogged and needs to flush and replace the pvc to find the clog, shit like that to constantly keep their conversion and and revenue high. So the honest techs and I are getting screwed because the guys who upsell get cherry picked the “best calls” and get special privileges. What do you guys think?
I see you lovely people genuinely looking for answers from josh because you supported him and don’t recognise the version he’s presenting as now.
I think to be honest the issue is he only waged war on family channels because A. He tried and failed at being one and B. He stumbled onto a winner when he did the stauffer (is that how you spell it) videos.
Being against exploitation is an easy cause to garner support for. Endless vloggers to cover. It’s a fantastic shield because if anyone dares disagree with or criticise anything about you, you scream ‘think of the kids’ and accuse whoever it is of not caring.
The fact he tried doing the family vlogs is proof it wasn’t a core value for him. If he had been successful and shut it down at its peak, he would be able to claim he had an epiphany but the fact is, the only reason he dropped it is because his family were, to be blunt, not conventionally attractive enough, bland, boring and his wife didn’t want to be so public. That’s the only reason he isn’t doing the family vlogging.
As he got support and his sub count got healthier, his facade dropped gradually and his ego became apparent.
If you notice, many of his personal opinions are hateful. Everything he does (unless he’s really pissed off his true sycophant paying subs in which case he backs down) is according to him, right.
I’ve not followed him enough to have ever watched a full video but I’ve seen enough to know most of his criticism at least of the Doughertys, is the way the mum looks, how she dresses, how she talks, her style, the fact she has the occasional drink, what she buys and MONEY. Oh how he hates with a spitting passion that she makes money.
Most of what he says is hypocritical. He’s a frustrated angry man.
The issue is, you fantastic ex subs here don’t like who he really is, but you remember who you thought he was. If someone’s like two different people and the one you like was the first version they presented but the one you dislike is the current, consistent version? The simple almost guaranteed explanation (barring a catastrophic event that could’ve traumatised them) is they’ve dropped the facade.
I know it must be confusing, hurtful, makes you feel foolish, you regret supporting him whether by subscribing or even financially. But the best thing you can do is accept this is the real him and let it go. Find satisfaction in knowing you wised up. Be happy you’re not him, you’re not married to him, he only duped you from a distance. Once you see what a pathetic human he is, just laugh at him.
The fact you’re hanging onto the initial version of him because you can’t imagine being such a deceitful, greedy, mean, hateful narcissist, you can’t imagine using exploited kids as your claim to (minor YouTube) fame and (not enough to become rich but at least you can contribute to the bills to heat the basement) fortune means you’re a GREAT HUMAN
So I've been collecting cans now for a while. Doing pretty good, relative to how good you can do with such a thing. There's just no way I'm gonna pull what I need out of trashcans in time this week though.
So I thought perhaps I'd set up at one of the "begging" spots. There's an offramp from the highway, connecting to a main road about a block away. The traffic coming off the highway is halted at the light for about a minute and a half. I've seen many people out on that corner with signs begging for cash, seems to be a good spot. You've got access to like 30 new cars every few minutes.
I'm not going to ask for cash. I'd rather not beg like that, plus I dunno how effective it'd be. What I'd like to do is go out with a couple of bins and signs "Collecting empty cans/bottles". I figure almost everyone is gonna have a loose can or bottle in their car, just trash to them. I also figure that they'd be happy to give them over just to get rid of them. If even half of the cars give 1 can or bottle, that'd be $1.50 in profit every few minutes.
Plus I think that the fact I'm not "begging" but rather "working" pushes the situation in my favor more.
I'd be down at the corner of the turnoff, front of the line with a bag and bin, grabbing up whatever is offered. The second bin I'd set up about 30/40 feet up the traffic flow, on the side of the road so I don't have to walk the whole thing back and forth. I thought I might make a sign for it that says "Feed me your cans and bottles".
Beyond that I considered making a cardboard "backboard" with a target on it. To encourage people to just chuck em, try to get them in; make it almost a game plus they don't have to even get out of the car. This way I can "work" the first few rows of cars and the bin does the work for the ones further back, ideally.
Another gimmick I considered is to have a sign with one of those "goal measures" on it. You know, like a bar I can fill in as I get closer, or just a sign that reads how much I've collected so far.
Feel like if I am all properly set up and there's an actual goal to reach people will see this, how serious I'm taking it, it may make them more likely to help out. Especially if it's more "interactive" with stuff like the toss bin and a measure of gains.. These are just my guesses though.
I feel like this could be much more fruitful than picking from the trash. Thing is I've got pretty bad social anxiety and this plan is a nightmare to me, I've got to be reasonably sure it's going to be worth it before I push myself to go do it. It all sounds good in theory to me, but you guys have much more practice with such things so I defer to you.
So what do you guys think? With your experience asking for money, or collecting cans, or just flat out street smarts does this seem like as good an idea to you as it did to me? Any tips you can offer, like maybe a clever way to word the sign, or better optimization of the details, or just even how to get past the anxiety and go try it? As always any advice or input is welcome and helpful. Thank you.
I'm reposting this because my last post was removed for being too broad.
My boyfriend and I are currently considering planning a 4 day trip to Cancun in September.
We are currently considering either the Cyan Cancun Resort & Spa or the Westin Resort and Spa. Does anyone have any suggestions for hotels that you've stayed at? We're mostly interested in hotels on the more affordable side, but are willing to spend more if the place is right.
Or suggestions for restaurants or bars that you went to? Or any other activities that you enjoyed?
From what I've seen incidents with harassment, assault or worse are most common from partners or in places where people try to hookup like bars or clubs etc. This is obviously a horrible problem and I'm not trying to excuse that. However I need to understand my personal risks and not the average.
I'm asexual aromantic and sex repulsed. So outside of a very unlikely change in both sexuality and romantic desires I'll probably never be in these higher risk situations. I have no plans to date, I don't go to bars or clubs, I don't drink or do drugs etc. Obviously I understand there is still the usual casual stuff and standard risks just being a woman. But I'm hoping to mitigate some of my worries overall.
I'm planning on starting transition relatively soon and I'm already struggling with accepting the negatives in terms of harassment, not being taken seriously, gatekeeping in hobbies etc.
I would appreciate some perspectives and anecdotes anyone can give regarding this. If anyone has any studies or statistics that apply that's also helpful.
(Hey everyone! Finally out of the shadow realm! Im reposting chapter five here, 6 is still percolating away in my head, but in the mean time, enjoy! Comments are appreciated!)
4-LOM rolled up to the holotable, the aging shipbuilder looking over the various fleet and division commanders.
4-LOM was an old Mk1 astro robot, his main body was a sphere, with four mechanical arms extending from his body, two large and bulky, and the other two smaller, more nimble and accurate, more dexterous, with a cylindrical lower body leading down to his treads, which were angular, tank like in shape, designed for heavy lifting. His head was flat, with a duo of square optics, a set of welding shields flipped up, ready to flip down when and where needed. His backpack was open, with tools sticking out, ready to be grabbed and used.
Looking around, he noted that the Saurians had their Admiral, a middle age Rox, their massive, tyrannasauric form still managing to tower over most of the others, even in holo, while Serano stood next to him. Nearby, Hota sat, nursing a coffee, rubbing his head, while one of the chief science officers hologram glanced at him nervously.
Another door entered, and a Mk12 frame entered, standing at the table. At first glance, the frame looked pristine, but 4-LOM wasn't fooled. He wasn't a shipwright for nothing, and he could see the pitting under the paint where plasma weaponry had uselessly splashed off, taking with it little layers of metal with it. Despite how new the frame looked, it was clear it had seen some action, recently as well, judging by the fresh coat of paint.
More holograms of fleet officials, and the bridges, or representations of their ships, flickered in above their shoulders. Serano looked like he had an old sailing ship floated there idly, a representation of the Enterprise. Some had wasps, while one captain had a cartoonish Barbus fish, with an old style white sailors cap and a belt of dynamite.
And then a small black hole flickered into view in front of his faceplate, making him roll back with a start. Getting a good look at the now pulsing black hole, he seemed to frown, one of his welding shields rising higher to simulate a eyebrow raise….. "Horizon? Is that you, little lass?" He said, with a thick, Scottish accent as his other shield rose up to join the other in shock.
The holographic black hole bobbed up and down in the air, two arms extending out from its corona and spun, as if to represent it, no, her, spinning in happiness. For a moment, 4-LOM was silent, before he began laughing, reaching up, even as his servo passed through the holo. "Ach, what I wouldn't give ta be in the Link with ye, lassie! I'm glad ye survived." He said, as the little ever hungry representation of the ship spun around him, before it shot off, floating near the Mk12, who looked at it.
The 12s head tilted more, as it listening to what the ship was saying, while 4-LOM felt a bit of possessiveness flair. Horizon was one of HIS creations, his and his wife's. Their ships were like children for them. Rolling over, he mentally began preparing a bit of what his wife would call the shovel talk, something they used to do with Captains that took on their vessels……
"Did you need something, Grandfather?" The machine said, domed head snapping to his, taking the wind out of his sails, and stare blankly at the taller, thinner machine.
Behind him, he heard Serano chuckle behind him, even as the Rox raised an eyeridge, while the Saline sat his mug down and placed his head in his hands.
"Grandfather- oh. I see…." He said, gaze turning flat as he gave a glare at Horizon. "I see the little gremlin is still able to make me short a fuse or two. Void knows Maria's hair turned white before she had to move bodies due to someone's antics." The little black hole pulsed sharply, as if squawking. "Would have appreciated a warning she made herself a captain…. Lassie, ye best be teaching him self preservation instincts." Catching the snort from the Rox and the sigh from Serano.
Slowly, his head turned around to face the two, one shield twitching, and finally saw Hota looking up with a flat look. "Too late on that one. I'll pass you the after action report later, AFTER the meeting." Serano said, hiding a smile. "If you want a first hand account, ask Hota. From what I understand, he had a front row seat for the Chaos the two caused."
She wasn't a little ship anymore, she wasnt- ah kriff it all. She was still his little lass. He'll talk with her later…preferably with Maria there…..after he grabbed his wrench and had a….. talk….. with whoever was their crew.
All the admirals and fleet commanders were soon in place, Asimov standing to the side, near the Admiral Serano, Horizons representation floating next to his head as his own panned about, looking at the assembled species. Several robotic ones, not Astro Robot series, called Glinch, looked at him curiously, while he picked out several different….Saurians, a few Roxes, several Trikes.
Several were pale, white skinned humans, bald, be they male or female. Clones, like himself, but with organic bodies, accompanied by nat-born humans, and several more advanced Astro Robot series units, these ones looking everything from near human, to large and bulky, armed with cannons, inbuilt missile launchers on their upper arms, and massive treads, or slimmer, almost skeletal ones with modules that could be swapped out at a moments notice.
"I appreciate ye all for coming on such short notice" 4-LOMs voice said, cutting over the gentle hubbub of the side conversations. "I had hoped that we wouldn't be facing them again, but here we are." The robot said as one of his smaller limbs tapes a command into the console, pulling up images of Everwatch stations current…condition. "Those of yeh from Federation space are more familar of the old stories, battle videos and the like. The Demons, as the Human Federation calls them, have been returned. It's only thanks to the work of Representative Hota that we have this information….. and had stumbled across an old Ace that had woken back up in time for this chaos." 4-LOM said, nodding to the Saline, getting the attention of his compatriots, who he shook his head to.
"Our opponents are equipped with biotech vessels, and are known for appropriating technology to forcibly integrate it with their own. Which means keep an eye out for a worse hodgepodge of weapons than a pirate vessel after its crew hits a pound of Spice and then gets drunk at a star port." 4-LOM said dryly, as various, old, images of the vessels and a few of the newer ones. "That being said, expect the sheer firepower jammed onto each of these ships to be on the higherside. However, they need long recharge periods, likely due to whatever power source used overloading, or the capacitor banks running dry and needing to recharge. Don't be fooled, they do have some form of biological armament, acid spitters, spike launchers, the works." He said, as images flicked up organic turrets, tentacles, and what looked like maws.
"As of right now, several of our larger vessels are being inspected and repaired, resupplied, and upgraded as needed. Several older vessels are being pulled out of mothball for the same reason. All civilian vessels are being drafted for emergency roles, receiving refit with hardware that will allow them to fight in a pinch, though their primary objective will be escorting transport ships and acting as emergency evacuation ships. We won't be expecting them to fight, but we need every ship we can get."
An image flickered into view of what amounted to the humans old museum of warships and deep space vessels, revealing it to be a hive of activity. Many other races had laughed at humanity for keeping their old vessels, rather than scrapping them, but now, now there was a reason why humanity had.
"Patrol fleets are to be at least one Saline Sensor ship, two to three Buckler class Trike Shield Bearers, one Rox Artillery ship, one Vohle capable human vessel, Two human PT ships, and three Raptor Swift claws." 4-LOM said, "these things aren't to be taken lightly. Sensors pick them up, call it in and engage. Stall for time if needed for reinforcements to arrive. Intercept fleets are to consist of five Trike Aegis class Shield Bearers, six Swift claws, one Rox supercarrier, three Rox artillery ships, two Saline Auxiliary ships, one Saline Medical cruiser, one Human Vohle Super-carrier, eight human PT ships, two Human Iowa class destroyers." The elderly bot belted out, making several Captains and admirals wince. Those weren't lightweight ships. The 'patrol' fleet could have been considered a planetary invasion force.
Before anyone could make any arguments or questions as to why the fleets were set to the Human classic of 'Maximum Overkill', and before any more ridiculous fleet deployments could be called out, a slightly panicking human sprinted into the room. "Sir! Confirmed hostile assault on Tisan-4" the human said, breathing heavily. "The Demons made planet fall, looks like a small invasion force that had left before the incursion field went up."
4-LOM stared….and then sighed. "Well, Caliburn had been itching for a fight." He sighed and placed a servo over his optics.
/-----------------------------------/ WARNING: Hostiles detected. Match confirmed; species D-65. Threat level:Apollyon. Combat systems:unlocked.
That was what appeared on the Colony Managers terminal as alarms screamed across the Colony, alerts screaming on PADDs, sirens spinning as bunkers opened up.
An aging Wargen bared his teeth as he rapidly tapped at his terminal, as the younger human clone stood grimly at her manager's terminal.
"Civilians are filling out the bunkers, tunneling charges are set and ready to clear escape routes." The elderly, wolf like Wargen said, his muzzle splitting into four as he spoke, one part vertical, the other horizontally. "Colonial militia are manning hard points and connecting to systems now."
"Understood." The Colony manager said and let out a long breath, before opening the PA system. "All hands, brace for Activation procedure. I repeat, all hands, brace for activation procedure." She said, before securing herself in on one of the chairs, even as the commander buckled himself in across from her, even as terminals all around them flickered and the building shuddered and shook, new lights came online all over.
"And the other races call our alliance insane for building the bunkers" The Wargen muttered under his breath as the command room became a flurry of activity, sensor teams working together in an attempt to get data on their opponents. "Our people are safe. That's what matters, commander." The clone said softly, looking at her long time friend, even as the hidden defense system of the Colony woke up.
Outside, the demonic army approached, on a slow, steady March, disgruntled at the lack of organics they had found to use. They needed biomass to fuel their war machine, to create their bases, their armies, their ships. And while they didn't care much about the sheer number of ships they lost during planet fall thanks to the orbital defenses, they needed to deal with the local defense computers. There had to be a way to broadcast an all clear signal and allow their other ships past.
Before them sat a large, fortified structure, looked like a massive cathedral, really. The irony was not lost on them as ports on the castle-like structure opened up, and began spitting metallic shells at them, exploding after punching through their infantry, leaving craters behind, destroying more of their forces.
The ground shook as their massive siege beast began forming from the splattered biomass, like some strange, oozing horror, slowly forming into a quadropodic creature.
The beast was mostly just a giant mouth in legs, with a long, worm like body lined with eyes, teeth, spikes, and tendrils, flinging said teeth at the structure.
Warlord Gistle ground his teeth as he stared at the cathedral as it held its own, his forces decimated by the attempted rain of metal. Said rain changed to one of scalding plasma as the castle changed tactics to try and burn the bodies to prevent them from forming additional, stronger units.
"Battle lord." Hissed one of the smaller battle chiefs said, as they stepped up next to Gistle. "The Seekers have not located where the miserable Frails have hidden themselves. Our efforts would be best put to entering the fortress ahead." The chief said, pointing at the massive fortress as the siege beast brushed off the weapons fire.
"No need, we will be inside soon en-" Came the guttural voice of the Warlord, before it was interrupted by a computerized voice, echoing out.
"THREAT ASSESSED. ASSUMING COMBAT MODE."
There was a rumble, everyone grabbing onto the stablest thing around them as the ground tore apart, the siege beast stumbling back, as the building tore up its own foundations as steam hissed out, and part of the building lifted up, and then slammed into the ground, and then the other side, slowly pulling itself up….and up…and up……
The structure wasn't a structure. Not any more. Towering over them, looking like a massive hunchback stood the cathedral, it's towers opening, revealing to be cowling around massive artillery cannons. It's arms, once covered with flat pillars, opened up to reveal a set rotating barrels, slowly spinning up, and a bulky duo of MAC batteries on the other arm. Sticking off the side of its upper arms were smaller hardpoints, each turret armed with four barrels, small and accurate, sniping ground units with horrifying accuracy, the soft metal shells ripping away to reveal their incendiary cargo held within steel mesh, allowing the coilguns to spit them out rapidly.
The head section looked like a sphere with three optics in a triangular formation, around a cannon that locked onto the siegebeast and whined, arcing brightly, before it fired, a bright flash seen as the cannon went off, it's round leaving behind a trail of fire as it raced through the air, punching through the beast, making it howl, and began trying to heal the injury that pierced it, ripping open a hole below it.
It's bipedal legs were thick, armored, and just as equally armed, it's lower legs armed with rotary cannons that spun, the lower pair foring a heavy stream of plasma, one barrel firing and then cooling as it spun, the others keeping the pace up, while above them, physical artillery was spat out, helping pierce armor for the plasma to scorch and burn to uselessness. More cannons sat on the sides and back of its legs in, taking aim at the surrounding armies, making sure to add on their screeches of rage.
Hanging off the underside of the platform that held the Cathederal sat more turrets, each swiveling around and adding to the chaos, their mini MAC armament chattering as they fired, picked a new target and fired again. On the top of the platform were AA cannons, taking aim and firing into the air, altering the timing of their rounds so that they acted as impromptu artillery, while more cannons, on four turrets, covered the monstrosities back, preventing them from sneaking up behind it, as if the cannons on the back of its legs weren't enough to cover it.
Warlord Gistle hissed in shock. The Frails had been LIVING in a Siege beast of their own!? Hidden partially underground, deceiving them to make it seem as if it was nothing more than a fortification!?
"Have all expendable units merge with our Siege beast, NOW! if the frails continue to pick our forces off one by one, they will never be able to reinforce our beast after they fall!" Gistle roared, even as around him the battle chiefs barked out the orders……..
The massive machine stared down at the hostile forces as they turned into a thick, biological slurry, short of the Demons themselves, and oozed towards the horror before it.
The monster seemed to absorb the substance on contact, growing larger and larger with each passing moment, howling and hissing.
He could feel his crew cursing in their heads, humans and otherwise, lighting the slurry up with plasmafire, burning some of it, but not enough. Caliburn agreed with them, as his Plasma getting cannon spun up, the five barrels glowing brightly, the heatsinks by the ends of the barrel glowing as the machine poured plasmafire from the barrels, searing into the beasts body, burning it up as it grew, stunting its growth heavily, and forcing it to consume more biomass to make heavy, chitenous armor, layers burning away under the assault.
Caliburn could feel the dust coming off as his gears spun, and he stepped forward, swinging the glowing arm as it cooled down, making the horror screech as he spun his upper body to add to the force of the blow, digging the glowing heating into the beast's face and knocking it back, buying time for his crew to deal with the horrific slurry around them, which still tried to fuse with the horror, chasing after it with a single minded determination.
As his upper body slowed down and he was facing forward again, he saw the beast setting up, snarling. His other arm came up, and he could feel his capacitors burning as he began firing his MAC arm at it, the massive, vehicle sized slugs punching into the beast, knocking it back farther, punching holes in the chitin it tried to grow as armor, making it hiss and move rapidly, trying to put distance between itself and the machine.
Unfortunately, the beast had the advantage in land speed, as it had four legs, while Caliburn only had two and lumbered slowly forward, his aging systems relishing the taste of combat after so long. And now he had far better weapons then a simple crane arm, like he had last time he fought a creature like this.
Because the beast had put distance between itself and him, it managed to absorb the last of the biomass, and began bounding forward, it's maw open, teeth spinning like some sort of Cuisinart….
A target he couldn't miss. His head cannon barked again, not as powerful as last time, but this time, he wasn't trying to rip it apart from the inside. The shell detonated on contact with the teeth, shredding them, tearing into the soft flesh within, making the beast howl and close its maw, it's chitin armor weathering the plasma splashing off, hardened to withstand the smaller weapons fire his crew spat at the creature.
His arms pulled their shrouding back around them, as he drew back and swung, hard, again using his body spinning to his advantage, striking the beast, the heavy weight of the heatsink and the weapon itself burying the shroud covered arm inside, the end opening up. Unfortunately, thanks to the partial shrouding, he wouldn't be able to spin his cannon, but all he needed was one shot inside it, and let it fly, ripping his arm out as it howled, smoke billowing from its new hole it tried rapidly to heal.
The tendrils it had tried to dig into his arm burned away as he kicked it up from below and began unloading both arms, fully unshrouded, the heat coming off both of them making steam hiss up into the air, as the beast took a heavy slug and then a plasma bolt, one after the other, deep into its stomach, sending it onto its back.
Loud popping sounds were heard as its limbs reoriented, allowing its former belly to become its back, the holes sealing slowly as it circled the walking cathedral, even as Caliburn scanned it, his upper body following its every movement. His command crew were breaking down every schematic and scan he gave them, working hard to figure out a way to kill the horror.
In the mean time, Caliburn and his crews would do their damndest to stall the beast and continue on their current plan. Burn it down, slowly.
He could feel his crews tracking the retreating demon forces, listening to the mental chatter within him as the artillery crews happily worked together to figure out their path, searching for the enemy command position, even as sensor crews watched as the rapidly approaching flood of biomass and machinery charged for them, some of the artillery crews already letting loose N-4 shells, the 'super-napalm', as the crews nicknamed them, impacting and exploding, burning into the biomass, unquenchable, even as the biomass attempted and failed to smother the burning substance, only serving to make it worse, melting the weaponry it carried with it.
The only reason why the crews could get away with it was because the biomass wasn't near the Bunkers exits or near infrastructure. Or Burnable items.
Command soon had a viable target, a sort of brain mass it had, separated throughout its body in a vain attempt to make sure it could still operate when a few of them were destroyed.
Several had been burned away by the plasma bolt going off inside of it, but many more remained, and it was attempting to make more/replace the burned away ones. They needed to eliminate the command signal….
Jubilation and grim satisfaction bloomed in his sensor and artillery crews, as he felt the mad scramble for bunker busting shells, before they were let loose into the air. Even as he blocked a tail strike from the beast and managed to crush its head under one foot, letting his landing engines ignite for the first time in decades to burn the creature more, his crews targeted the command bunker, shelling it with deadly accuracy, smoke rising from the hill they were tucked away behind in the distance, making Caliburn burn with satisfaction and praise for his crew.
Gistle ran as fast as his hooves could move him, teeth barred as he snarled.
Around him, their command temple shook and shuddered, veins bursting, cables arcing wildly as the biomass contracted involuntarily or simply sagged, turning to biomass.
"Warlord, they are heavily shelling our position, we won't be able to retreat at this rate!" Hissed one of the Battle Chiefs at his side, hissing in fear, even as he snarled at the Pitiful, compared to him, creature. "We won't be taking everyone, only the essentials. The Everlasting King must be notified of this development. King be damned, the frails took the time to prepare for our arrival again." He growled as he came out to a hanger area, and ran into a small, fast ship, even as the others ran into larger, bulkier, slower ships.
Soon, the chitin that served as the door opened, and they shot out, erratically flying, trying to avoid the artillery shells, and now AA fire joining the fray.
He kept close to his compatriots, using them as a living shield as he twisted the small vessel around, smirking as he dodged the fire while they took it..
They were almost to space, soon, they could tear a Gate and get the fleet-
Reality tore open above him as a massive ring shaped vessel pushed itself into real space, disgorging hundreds of smaller vessels, bearing down on their positions, others engaging the floating fleet around them with aggressive assault runs, the sudden appearance in the system allowing them to have the element of surprise.
Weapons fire began filling the space around f them, tearing at their vessels faster then they could repair them as little, frail vessels zipped in and out of line of fire faster then they could shoot, track, or react, unloading slugs, plasma, torpedoes in a flurry of activity before diving away, allowing their munitions to wreak havoc amongst them.
Already, the larger vessels were disabled before Gistle managed to sacrifice one, smirking as it warped, it's biomass fueling the Gate, as he flew through, hoping he was in friendlier territories, unaware of a sensor torpedo flying in behind him.
Down below, on the surface, Caliburn flung back his opponent again, arms blazing as he shelled it.
It was bigger then it had been, managing to absorb the biomass from the surviving landing ships and the remains of the command center they shelled out. It's armor was thicker, and was flinging out dozens, hundreds of calcium spikes, spitting its unknown energy weapons, only to splash off his shields, for the energy weapons, and his ar.or foe the calcium spikes, even as his weapons screeched.
The beast had holes all over its chitenous armor, from his shells punching in, or his artillery crews shelling the beast, his plasma following close behind as he sought to burn the creature out from the inside, going so far as to ram his plasma cannon inside and unload it, the rotating barrels helping tear it up from the inside as the heat sinks burned it.
Ships began dropping down from above, doing strafing runs, dropping smaller caliber explosives, distracting the beast as he tore another hole in it by spinning his upper body, one shrouded cannon arm striking the beast and ripping in, just as a gunship fired a Cleaner into it, just before it healed.
A burning flash of light, a horrific scream from the beast as it howled, body jerking as the explosive did its job…. Before it swung down, still alive, though just barely, it's armor shattering rather then buckling on the next strike from Caliburn, a facsimile of a uppercut, before the barrels let loose again, even as the plasma cannon dumped bolt after bolt into its lower body, searching for, burning the neural clusters as he found them.
The beast wrenched itself away from his grasp, snarling as it looked at him, the beast snarling as it tried to heal from the most recent injuries.
Caliburn felt his crew snarling back, his cannons swiveling around as they gave their response in munitions as he lumbered forward, the ground shaking from his steps and the escape ships erupting out of the ground around them, his rotary cannon screaming as it fired, the MAC on the other arm barking as he hit it again and again as it charged forward.
The beast no longer cared for its injuries, all it cared was to take the metal monster before it down, spitting acid out of it as it tried, and failed, to blind the machine, even as said machine swung its smoldering plasma cannon up and brought down the burning barrels down on its head, smashing it into the ground, pinning it there as it's crew continued shelling it out ruthlessly.
Caliburn refused to let the beast survive, he refused to let the thing get to the civilians. His crew snarled their agreement as the beast tore the pinned head off its body, even as it burned away to nothing, and tried to charge again, blindly, only to smash against the MAC arm and receive a pair of heavy slugs to the neck stump for its troubles, sending it somersaulting back, trying to reform its head.
It was much, much smaller now, now matching Caliburns size, due to all the biomass loss, it's head reforming as it snarled.
Caliburn seemed to roll his pauldrons and twitched his MAC, as if saying 'come at me'. The beast howled and charged forward, razor sharp tentacles erupting from its sides, whipping about wildly, only for turret crews to blast the tentacles off at the base, and for his artillery crews to shell it down from above, flattening it into the ground again with explosive shells.
Again, the beast began pulling itself out of the ground, only for another strafing run from aircraft , this time dropping standard napalm canisters onto the beast, making it howl as it healed around the canisters, and began burning from within.
It thrashed and writhed, tail and body whipping about, even as Caliburn kept firing, not letting up, shells puncturing the chitin bubble it was trying to form around the napalm to contain it, keeping it burning into the beasts body.
At last, the beast tried to fling itself at Caliburn, thinking that it could at least burn out the mechanical monster with it, only for Caliburn to swing and strike it, flinging it away again, the beasts body unable to get back up, and laid there, slowly burning away at last……………