My little pony oc maker picrew

An area to share OC characters based on the MLP franchise

2011.09.10 02:30 waffen337 An area to share OC characters based on the MLP franchise

For find, sharing, and discussing OC ponies, changelings, griffons, dragons, and other species based on the *My Little Pony* franchise.
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2014.07.25 21:09 Coelacanth0794 Anything pony, anything dragon

A My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic subreddit for anything to do with dragons.
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2014.08.21 20:24 Coelacanth0794 Only one canon zebra

The My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic subreddit for zebra characters, Zecora or otherwise. Keep things related to stripy equines! Original characters are welcome!
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2023.06.07 03:46 mahimahi1226 The super hero my little brother came up with and his sidekick Rick. (OC)

The super hero my little brother came up with and his sidekick Rick. (OC) submitted by mahimahi1226 to MadeMeSmile [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:28 Fearless_Title_523 My little guy's smile, so sweet.🥰(OC)

My little guy's smile, so sweet.🥰(OC) submitted by Fearless_Title_523 to IKEApets [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:28 A_Music_Maker1400 Letter to Brett and Eddy

I'd like to say something on behalf of the violas. Stop making fun of us. I know it sounds like another "Oh, stop hating the violas because I'm a viola" posts, but this time it's from the heart. We go through just as much as you fucking spoiled violin brats, and I'm tired of you treating us like we're less than. Yeah, their channel may be TwoSetViolin, but I need a place where I can relate to other string players, and I can't do that if we are being made fun of. Think of it where if you were in my situation. Seeing people constantly look down on you just for having a different string would be annoying... and a little bit saddening. SO STOP FUCKING MAKING FUN OF US

Go back and practice for 40 more hours,
-A Music Maker (who plays viola, yeah that's right, bitches)
submitted by A_Music_Maker1400 to lingling40hrs [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:20 Personal_Hippo1277 Clio Token Size As Text Size By Tier Comparison [Mega Text Wall For Enjoyers of Scrolling]

When I was brand new to NovelAi I had no idea how 2048 tokens really looked as text. So for anyone looking at the tiers, trying to decide how many tokens they want for Clio with the new update, I've tokenized Part of The Great Gatsby by Scott Fitzgerald (public domain since 2021).
That way new users can more easily visualize what the AI's maximum context is for each tier. According to the UI Clio uses the NerdStash Tokenizer, as different tokenizers will convert text to tokens their own way.
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In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.
“Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”
He didn’t say any more, but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence, I’m inclined to reserve all judgements, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.
And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on. When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “creative temperament”—it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again. No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.
My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this Middle Western city for three generations. The Carraways are something of a clan, and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the actual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother, who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War, and started the wholesale hardware business that my father carries on today.
I never saw this great-uncle, but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in father’s office. I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic migration known as the Great War. I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless. Instead of being the warm centre of the world, the Middle West now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go East and learn the bond business. Everybody I knew was in the bond business, so I supposed it could support one more single man. All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep school for me, and finally said, “Why—ye-es,” with very grave, hesitant faces. Father agreed to finance me for a year, and after various delays I came East, permanently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two.
The practical thing was to find rooms in the city, but it was a warm season, and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office suggested that we take a house together in a commuting town, it sounded like a great idea. He found the house, a weather-beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington, and I went out to the country alone. I had a dog—at least I had him for a few days until he ran away—and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman, who made my bed and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove.
It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road.
“How do you get to West Egg village?” he asked helplessly.
I told him. And as I walked on I was lonely no longer. I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler. He had casually conferred on me the freedom of the neighbourhood.
And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.
There was so much to read, for one thing, and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giving air. I bought a dozen volumes on banking and credit and investment securities, and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Maecenas knew. And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides. I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the Yale News—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the “well-rounded man.” This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all.
It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North America. It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York—and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land. Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound. They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story, they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetual wonder to the gulls that fly overhead. To the wingless a more interesting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size.
I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little sinister contrast between them. My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season. The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imitation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool, and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. It was Gatsby’s mansion. Or, rather, as I didn’t know Mr. Gatsby, it was a mansion inhabited by a gentleman of that name. My own house was an eyesore, but it was a small eyesore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a view of the water, a partial view of my neighbour’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dollars a month.
Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans. Daisy was my second cousin once removed, and I’d known Tom in college. And just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago.
Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savours of anticlimax. His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come East in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance, he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest. It was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to do that.
Why they came East I don’t know. They had spent a year in France for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together. This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart, but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking, a little wistfully, for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game.
And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarcely knew at all. Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful red-and-white Georgian Colonial mansion, overlooking the bay. The lawn started at the beach and ran towards the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sundials and brick walks and burning gardens—finally when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run. The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch.
He had changed since his New Haven years. Now he was a sturdy straw-haired man of thirty, with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing, and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage—a cruel body.
His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the impression of fractiousness he conveyed. There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts.
“Now, don’t think my opinion on these matters is final,” he seemed to say, “just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.” We were in the same senior society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own.
We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.
“I’ve got a nice place here,” he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly.
Turning me around by one arm, he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep, pungent roses, and a snub-nosed motorboat that bumped the tide offshore.
“It belonged to Demaine, the oil man.” He turned me around again, politely and abruptly. “We’ll go inside.”
We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-coloured space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end. The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-coloured rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.
The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. I must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall. Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room, and the curtains and the rugs and the two young women ballooned slowly to the floor.
The younger of the two was a stranger to me. She was extended full length at her end of the divan, completely motionless, and with her chin raised a little, as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall. If she saw me out of the corner of her eyes she gave no hint of it—indeed, I was almost surprised into murmuring an apology for having disturbed her by coming in.
The other girl, Daisy, made an attempt to rise—she leaned slightly forward with a conscientious expression—then she laughed, an absurd, charming little laugh, and I laughed too and came forward into the room.
“I’m p-paralysed with happiness.”
She
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laughed again, as if she said something very witty, and held my hand for a moment, looking up into my face, promising that there was no one in the world she so much wanted to see. That was a way she had. She hinted in a murmur that the surname of the balancing girl was Baker. (I’ve heard it said that Daisy’s murmur was only to make people lean toward her; an irrelevant criticism that made it no less charming.)
At any rate, Miss Baker’s lips fluttered, she nodded at me almost imperceptibly, and then quickly tipped her head back again—the object she was balancing had obviously tottered a little and given her something of a fright. Again a sort of apology arose to my lips. Almost any exhibition of complete self-sufficiency draws a stunned tribute from me.
I looked back at my cousin, who began to ask me questions in her low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again. Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth, but there was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered “Listen,” a promise that she had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour.
I told her how I had stopped off in Chicago for a day on my way East, and how a dozen people had sent their love through me.
“Do they miss me?” she cried ecstatically.
“The whole town is desolate. All the cars have the left rear wheel painted black as a mourning wreath, and there’s a persistent wail all night along the north shore.”
“How gorgeous! Let’s go back, Tom. Tomorrow!” Then she added irrelevantly: “You ought to see the baby.”
“I’d like to.”
“She’s asleep. She’s three years old. Haven’t you ever seen her?”
“Never.”
“Well, you ought to see her. She’s—”
Tom Buchanan, who had been hovering restlessly about the room, stopped and rested his hand on my shoulder.
“What you doing, Nick?”
“I’m a bond man.”
“Who with?”
I told him.
“Never heard of them,” he remarked decisively.
This annoyed me.
“You will,” I answered shortly. “You will if you stay in the East.”
“Oh, I’ll stay in the East, don’t you worry,” he said, glancing at Daisy and then back at me, as if he were alert for something more. “I’d be a God damned fool to live anywhere else.”
At this point Miss Baker said: “Absolutely!” with such suddenness that I started—it was the first word she had uttered since I came into the room. Evidently it surprised her as much as it did me, for she yawned and with a series of rapid, deft movements stood up into the room.
“I’m stiff,” she complained, “I’ve been lying on that sofa for as long as I can remember.”
“Don’t look at me,” Daisy retorted, “I’ve been trying to get you to New York all afternoon.”
“No, thanks,” said Miss Baker to the four cocktails just in from the pantry. “I’m absolutely in training.”
Her host looked at her incredulously.
“You are!” He took down his drink as if it were a drop in the bottom of a glass. “How you ever get anything done is beyond me.”
I looked at Miss Baker, wondering what it was she “got done.” I enjoyed looking at her. She was a slender, small-breasted girl, with an erect carriage, which she accentuated by throwing her body backward at the shoulders like a young cadet. Her grey sun-strained eyes looked back at me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming, discontented face. It occurred to me now that I had seen her, or a picture of her, somewhere before.
“You live in West Egg,” she remarked contemptuously. “I know somebody there.”
“I don’t know a single—”
“You must know Gatsby.”
“Gatsby?” demanded Daisy. “What Gatsby?”
Before I could reply that he was my neighbour dinner was announced; wedging his tense arm imperatively under mine, Tom Buchanan compelled me from the room as though he were moving a checker to another square.
Slenderly, languidly, their hands set lightly on their hips, the two young women preceded us out on to a rosy-coloured porch, open toward the sunset, where four candles flickered on the table in the diminished wind.
“Why candles?” objected Daisy, frowning. She snapped them out with her fingers. “In two weeks it’ll be the longest day in the year.” She looked at us all radiantly. “Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it.”
“We ought to plan something,” yawned Miss Baker, sitting down at the table as if she were getting into bed.
“All right,” said Daisy. “What’ll we plan?” She turned to me helplessly: “What do people plan?”
Before I could answer her eyes fastened with an awed expression on her little finger.
“Look!” she complained; “I hurt it.”
We all looked—the knuckle was black and blue.
“You did it, Tom,” she said accusingly. “I know you didn’t mean to, but you did do it. That’s what I get for marrying a brute of a man, a great, big, hulking physical specimen of a—”
“I hate that word ‘hulking,’ ” objected Tom crossly, “even in kidding.”
“Hulking,” insisted Daisy.
Sometimes she and Miss Baker talked at once, unobtrusively and with a bantering inconsequence that was never quite chatter, that was as cool as their white dresses and their impersonal eyes in the absence of all desire. They were here, and they accepted Tom and me, making only a polite pleasant effort to entertain or to be entertained. They knew that presently dinner would be over and a little later the evening too would be over and casually put away. It was sharply different from the West, where an evening was hurried from phase to phase towards its close, in a continually disappointed anticipation or else in sheer nervous dread of the moment itself.
“You make me feel uncivilized, Daisy,” I confessed on my second glass of corky but rather impressive claret. “Can’t you talk about crops or something?”
I meant nothing in particular by this remark, but it was taken up in an unexpected way.
“Civilization’s going to pieces,” broke out Tom violently. “I’ve gotten to be a terrible pessimist about things. Have you read The Rise of the Coloured Empires by this man Goddard?”
“Why, no,” I answered, rather surprised by his tone.
“Well, it’s a fine book, and everybody ought to read it. The idea is if we don’t look out the white race will be—will be utterly submerged. It’s all scientific stuff; it’s been proved.”
“Tom’s getting very profound,” said Daisy, with an expression of unthoughtful sadness. “He reads deep books with long words in them. What was that word we—”
“Well, these books are all scientific,” insisted Tom, glancing at her impatiently. “This fellow has worked out the whole thing. It’s up to us, who are the dominant race, to watch out or these other races will have control of things.”
“We’ve got to beat them down,” whispered Daisy, winking ferociously toward the fervent sun.
“You ought to live in California—” began Miss Baker, but Tom interrupted her by shifting heavily in his chair.
“This idea is that we’re Nordics. I am, and you are, and you are, and—” After an infinitesimal hesitation he included Daisy with a slight nod, and she winked at me again. “—And we’ve produced all the things that go to make civilization—oh, science and art, and all that. Do you see?”
There was something pathetic in his concentration, as if his complacency, more acute than of old, was not enough to him any more. When, almost immediately, the telephone rang inside and the butler left the porch Daisy seized upon the momentary interruption and leaned towards me.
“I’ll tell you a family secret,” she whispered enthusiastically. “It’s about the butler’s nose. Do you want to hear about the butler’s nose?”
“That’s why I came over tonight.”
“Well, he wasn’t always a butler; he used to be the silver polisher for some people in New York that had a silver service for two hundred people. He had to polish it from morning till night, until finally it began to affect his nose—”
“Things went from bad to worse,” suggested Miss Baker.
“Yes. Things went from bad to worse, until finally he had to give up his position.”
For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened—then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret, like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.
The butler came back and murmured something close to Tom’s ear, whereupon Tom frowned, pushed back his chair, and without a word went inside. As if his absence quickened something within her, Daisy leaned forward again, her voice glowing and singing.
“I love to see you at my table, Nick. You remind me of a—of a rose, an absolute rose. Doesn’t he?” She turned to Miss Baker for confirmation: “An absolute rose?”
This was untrue. I am not even faintly like a rose. She was only extemporizing, but a stirring warmth flowed from her, as if her heart was trying to come out to you concealed in one of those breathless, thrilling words. Then suddenly she threw her napkin on the table and excused herself and went into the house.
Miss Baker and I exchanged a short glance consciously devoid of meaning. I was about to speak when she sat up alertly and said “Sh!” in a warning voice. A subdued impassioned murmur was audible in the room beyond, and Miss Baker leaned forward unashamed, trying to hear. The murmur trembled on the verge of coherence, sank down, mounted excitedly, and then ceased altogether.
“This Mr. Gatsby you spoke of is my neighbour—” I began.
“Don’t talk. I want to hear what happens.”
“Is something happening?” I inquired innocently.
“You mean to say you don’t know?” said Miss Baker, honestly surprised. “I thought everybody knew.”
“I don’t.”
“Why—” she said hesitantly. “Tom’s got some woman in New York.”
“Got some woman?” I repeated blankly.
Miss Baker nodded.
“She might have the decency not to telephone him at dinner time. Don’t you think?”
Almost before I had grasped her meaning there was the flutter of a dress and the crunch of leather boots, and Tom and Daisy were back at the table.
“It couldn’t be helped!” cried Daisy with tense gaiety.
She sat down, glanced searchingly at Miss Baker and then at me, and continued: “I looked outdoors for a minute, and it’s very romantic outdoors. There’s a bird on the lawn that I think must be a nightingale come over on the Cunard or White Star Line. He’s singing away—” Her voice sang: “It’s romantic, isn’t it, Tom?”
“Very romantic,” he said, and then miserably to me: “If it’s light enough after dinner, I want to take you down to the stables.”
The telephone rang inside, startlingly, and as Daisy shook her head decisively at Tom the subject of the stables, in fact all subjects, vanished into air. Among the broken fragments of the last five minutes at table I remember the candles being lit again, pointlessly, and I was conscious of wanting to look squarely at everyone, and yet to avoid all eyes. I couldn’t guess what Daisy and Tom were thinking, but I doubt if even Miss Baker, who seemed to have mastered a certain hardy scepticism, was able utterly to put this fifth guest’s shrill metallic urgency out of mind. To a certain temperament the situation might have seemed intriguing—my own instinct was to telephone immediately for the police.
The horses, needless to say, were not mentioned again. Tom and Miss Baker, with several feet of twilight between them, strolled back into the library, as if to a vigil beside a perfectly tangible body, while, trying to look pleasantly interested and a little deaf, I followed Daisy around a chain of connecting verandas to the porch in front. In its deep gloom we sat down side by side on a wicker settee.
Daisy took her face in her hands as if feeling its lovely shape, and her eyes moved gradually out into the velvet dusk. I saw that turbulent emotions possessed her, so I asked what I thought would be some sedative questions about her little girl.
“We don’t know each other very well, Nick,” she said suddenly. “Even if we are cousins. You didn’t come to my wedding.”
“I wasn’t back from the war.”
“That’s true.” She hesitated. “Well, I’ve had a very bad time, Nick, and I’m pretty cynical about everything.”
Evidently she had reason to be. I waited but she
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didn’t say any more, and after a moment I returned rather feebly to the subject of her daughter.
“I suppose she talks, and—eats, and everything.”
“Oh, yes.” She looked at me absently. “Listen, Nick; let me tell you what I said when she was born. Would you like to hear?”
“Very much.”
“It’ll show you how I’ve gotten to feel about—things. Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling, and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. ‘All right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. And I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.’
“You see I think everything’s terrible anyhow,” she went on in a convinced way. “Everybody thinks so—the most advanced people. And I know. I’ve been everywhere and seen everything and done everything.” Her eyes flashed around her in a defiant way, rather like Tom’s, and she laughed with thrilling scorn. “Sophisticated—God, I’m sophisticated!”
The instant her voice broke off, ceasing to compel my attention, my belief, I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said. It made me uneasy, as though the whole evening had been a trick of some sort to exact a contributory emotion from me. I waited, and sure enough, in a moment she looked at me with an absolute smirk on her lovely face, as if she had asserted her membership in a rather distinguished secret society to which she and Tom belonged.
Inside, the crimson room bloomed with light. Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read aloud to him from the Saturday Evening Post—the words, murmurous and uninflected, running together in a soothing tune. The lamplight, bright on his boots and dull on the autumn-leaf yellow of her hair, glinted along the paper as she turned a page with a flutter of slender muscles in her arms.
When we came in she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand.
“To be continued,” she said, tossing the magazine on the table, “in our very next issue.”
Her body asserted itself with a restless movement of her knee, and she stood up.
“Ten o’clock,” she remarked, apparently finding the time on the ceiling. “Time for this good girl to go to bed.”
“Jordan’s going to play in the tournament tomorrow,” explained Daisy, “over at Westchester.”
“Oh—you’re Jordan Baker.”
I knew now why her face was familiar—its pleasing contemptuous expression had looked out at me from many rotogravure pictures of the sporting life at Asheville and Hot Springs and Palm Beach. I had heard some story of her too, a critical, unpleasant story, but what it was I had forgotten long ago.
“Good night,” she said softly. “Wake me at eight, won’t you.”
“If you’ll get up.”
“I will. Good night, Mr. Carraway. See you anon.”
“Of course you will,” confirmed Daisy. “In fact I think I’ll arrange a marriage. Come over often, Nick, and I’ll sort of—oh—fling you together. You know—lock you up accidentally in linen closets and push you out to sea in a boat, and all that sort of thing—”
“Good night,” called Miss Baker from the stairs. “I haven’t heard a word.”
“She’s a nice girl,” said Tom after a moment. “They oughtn’t to let her run around the country this way.”
“Who oughtn’t to?” inquired Daisy coldly.
“Her family.”
“Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old. Besides, Nick’s going to look after her, aren’t you, Nick? She’s going to spend lots of weekends out here this summer. I think the home influence will be very good for her.”
Daisy and Tom looked at each other for a moment in silence.
“Is she from New York?” I asked quickly.
“From Louisville. Our white girlhood was passed together there. Our beautiful white—”
“Did you give Nick a little heart to heart talk on the veranda?” demanded Tom suddenly.
“Did I?” She looked at me. “I can’t seem to remember, but I think we talked about the Nordic race. Yes, I’m sure we did. It sort of crept up on us and first thing you know—”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Nick,” he advised me.
I said lightly that I had heard nothing at all, and a few minutes later I got up to go home. They came to the door with me and stood side by side in a cheerful square of light. As I started my motor Daisy peremptorily called: “Wait!”
“I forgot to ask you something, and it’s important. We heard you were engaged to a girl out West.”
“That’s right,” corroborated Tom kindly. “We heard that you were engaged.”
“It’s a libel. I’m too poor.”
“But we heard it,” insisted Daisy, surprising me by opening up again in a flower-like way. “We heard it from three people, so it must be true.”
Of course I knew what they were referring to, but I wasn’t even vaguely engaged. The fact that gossip had published the banns was one of the reasons I had come East. You can’t stop going with an old friend on account of rumours, and on the other hand I had no intention of being rumoured into marriage.
Their interest rather touched me and made them less remotely rich—nevertheless, I was confused and a little disgusted as I drove away. It seemed to me that the thing for Daisy to do was to rush out of the house, child in arms—but apparently there were no such intentions in her head. As for Tom, the fact that he “had some woman in New York” was really less surprising than that he had been depressed by a book. Something was making him nibble at the edge of stale ideas as if his sturdy physical egotism no longer nourished his peremptory heart.
Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs and in front of wayside garages, where new red petrol-pumps sat out in pools of light, and when I reached my estate at West Egg I ran the car under its shed and sat for a while on an abandoned grass roller in the yard. The wind had blown off, leaving a loud, bright night, with wings beating in the trees and a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the frogs full of life. The silhouette of a moving cat wavered across the moonlight, and, turning my head to watch it, I saw that I was not alone—fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my neighbour’s mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the silver pepper of the stars. Something in his leisurely movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to determine what share was his of our local heavens.
I decided to call to him. Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and that would do for an introduction. But I didn’t call to him, for he gave a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone—he stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward—and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness.
II
About halfway between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of ash-grey men, who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight.
But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to
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submitted by Personal_Hippo1277 to NovelAi [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:19 One_and_Only19 Something lurks in the shadows

Just a heads up, this guy is used in a universe where hawkmoth treat crime more like a bossiness and as such akumatizes criminals and villains rather than peeved teenagers and disgruntled citizens... basically hawkmoth isn't stupid

OC details:

Name: jonathan hughes
Alias: shadow spider
Miraculous: none/ tech based hero
Symbolism: death and creation

Backstory:

Johnathan was raised by his dad as a single man, An estranged sister, and a mother who died giving birth to john, as such his dad gave him all the love that he could in the small town in the middle of kent england where his dad made hid money as an engineer before moving off to paris with john who was just 3 years old. Life took a swift turn for the best, quickly establishing his talents for weapon creation and design, johnathans father quickly folded a company called Hughes industries where he designed weapons for the parisian military, rubbing shoulders with the elites of france including the agreste's, the tsugurgi's, and the Bourgeois's leaving john to become good friends with both adrien and chloe(shes still a bitch though). All the while johnathans technological prowess also grew, he was making his own video games at 4, designing web browsers at 5, and age 6 made a military grade AI for hid own amusement called SpyDar(spy radar, also sounds like spider😁) with his dad using johnathan on occasion to help implement some of the code to his more advanced weapons. Hawkmoth had wanted johns father to supply his goons with new weaponry, when he refused.... so, at age 10 johnathan watched as hawkmoth crushed his beloved fathers head between his hands like it were a balloon forever traumatising him and essentially killing the boy as well. He since spent his days training to become as strong as possible, his evenings developing his tech to make up for his short comings, and his evening trying to find out who hawkmoth is and where to find him. He's softened up a bit over the course of those 5 years, from wraithful vengeance to a dark defender of the night having even turned his base of operations(which is a big empty warehouse) into a hostel for families who have lost everything to villain attacks, and doing what he can to protect the hurt and innocent

Appearance:

Civilian form
Jonathan is a mix between max and kim, he's tall with an athletic build though tends to wear geeky clothes, not much caring for fashion. He wears his super suit under his shirt, the black sleeves clearly visible, though wears a green comic shirt over it, making it look like a more estethical choice. He also wears brown cargo pants and plain black runners. His shield compacts down into his watch with most of his gear ready to go at a moments notice. His only bit of equipment that is missing is his helmet which is kept in his bag which he takes every where with him. His hair is a plain black with blue high lights, his skin is extraordinarily pale and his eyes are a very dark blue.
Hero form
An almost entirely black suit with a white outline marking holes in his mask, they are sharp looking eyes that are pointed to look like a permanent scowl with a thin white outline. small holes that allow him to breath through the mask (ill give him a water upgrade later) which leads into a grey chest piece that covers and created the illusion of pecs, Abs, and runs down to his crotch to protect that as well. On his chest is a large spider web that forms a semi circle, and hanging from it, a large black spider with sharp edges and somewhat realistic anatomy. On my shoulders are thick metal plating which is also present on his knees and elbows, a blue LED strip denotes wheres the endoskeleton is which is his most armoured point and is meant to draw fire, it can also be turned off either by removing his helmet or per his request. His bottom half is quite plain bar the same black runners he wears in his civilian form, shiny black metal knee guards, and blue LED that runs down the side of his legs. The shield is a mat black with a web pattern on it that has 4 lines that go through the centre and create 8 segments with 3 webs between each larger thread. The webs are white.

Personality:

Johnathan is ultimately altruistic but reserved, knowing that showing off could get him discovered as shadow spider, pretending to basically be a weak coward so no one would suspect him to be shadow spider. Quite nerdy, he's a part of multiple super hero fandoms, usually using them for inspiration for tech and techniques. Johnathan is also prone to bouts of anger where his facade will drop and he'll act more like shadow. Also as johnathan has a high pitched voice with a notable french accent.
As shadow spider he's a different person entirely, even his voice becomes much lower, slightly gravely and distinctly english. His altruistic nature subsides somewhat and has little compassion for criminals and villains, often brutalising them so badly that without immediate medical attention they'd likely die of their injuries. With that being said, he'll only do that to someone who has taken a life, if you didn't understand the weight of you're actions, or you were otherwise justified in his eyes then he will put his life in the line to save yours.

Powers/abilities:

Web generation
Through the use of specialised gauntlets he is able to generate a strong web like substance which is also used for transportation and through the use of various nozzles can be adjusted suit any given need.
Spiked gloves/soles
Through specialised tech his shoes and gloves can produce extremely sharp claws which can be used in combat, but are primarily used to climb walls and other surfaces. These claws also have small injectors that allow him to inject a villain with a neurotoxin that causes paralysis for 24 hours.
Parkour
Jonathan is adept at utilising his environment in order to maximise his mobility options, able to beat an olympian in a race across paris due to his parkour prowess this is just to give him reason to be able to be able move that quickly)
Exoskeleton
A lightweights exoskeleton hidden beneath his suit allows for super human strength feats, up to roughly 3x peak human strength, though only about half as strong as a miraculous holder, also allows for super speed whilst running, hits like a truck, and 5 meter high jumps
SpyDar
An ai that jonathan developed to help analyse his environment including xray vision, internet access, telecommunications access, hacking and many other abilities. He formed his hero identity after his SpyDar systems.
Tech wizard
He's good with computers
Titanum weave suit
Though not impervious to damage jonathan is still able to take hits from your average akuma victim and keep fighting. This weave is light and breathable, though some areas are clearly better armoured including the full metal face shell, the knee and elbow pads, and thicker padding around the chest area.
Repulse canon/ explosive shield
And finally jonathan's shield, though it is made from the same titanium as his face shell it has a web pattern 'engraved' on it. Though these engravings are in fact outlets for a repulse canon which is strong enough to knock down a brick wall without having to use his main suits power supply. Along its edges are another outlet except this one for c4, allowing jonathan a chance against akuma victims with real fire power. The back is also equipt with some smaller devices including trackers, additional cameras to scope an area out more effectively, web grenades, audio lures and an electromagnet to both summon the shield when needed and attach it to his arm or back. It also has small spikes that can inject a neurotoxin into his opponents that will paralysise them for the nest 24 hours

Weaknesses:

Low battery
If jonathan's shield runs out of power he can still carry it around with him, however if his suit does the same then not only does he loose his powers but he's now weighed down and essentialy trapped inside of a metal tomb during a fight
Emp blasts
See above
Fatigue
Jonathan is only human without any additional powers and general combat will slow him down quickly and leave him tired and unable to operate
Being hacked
A simple computer virus is enough to stop most of his powers except for the endoskeleton and web shooters, beyond that he is helpless afterwards
Hand to hand combat
Jonathan knows very little about combat and relies on his gear and environment to neutralise an opponent, getting up close and personal is a great way to deal with him.
submitted by One_and_Only19 to MLBRoleplay [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:16 Poppy_37 What can my tweenager watch next after Dawson's Creek and Gilmore Girls?

My soon-to-be 13 y/o middle schooler just finished both of the above and I'm looking for a show along the same lines. The OC, One Tree Hill and Gossip Girl are just little to deep for her right now. She enjoyed The Wonder Years, Sabrina TTW and Wednesday, but I'm really stuck for more shows featuring 12-14 y/o's...we have pretty much all the major platforms on our tv, so any suggestions would be greatly appreciated...
submitted by Poppy_37 to televisionsuggestions [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:06 almondblossomsssss looking for hotd & outlander.

hi hi! it's been a while since i posted any kind of ad, so bear with me. celestial, in my 20s, she/her. dog & cat mom, i have a full time job working with animals. I've been rping on and off for eight, nine years? something around there. after taking a little hiatus I'm back and looking for some roleplays!
a little about me:
i.) I'm not super picky with length of responses. i can go from a couple of sentences to a couple of paragraphs, just depends. same with reply times, i can reply a couple of times a day to a couple of times a week, it just depends on how busy my life is that week. if it takes longer i'll always let my partner know, but please don't bug me for a response.
ii.) i prefer 3rd person, past tense.
iii.) canon x oc is my jam. i prefer to double, but it's not required. split roleplays welcomed.
iv.) please be 18+, it's the only thing I'm pretty strict with.
What I'm looking for:
- outlander: I'm really looking for someone to write Jamie for me! i can happily double as anyone else for you.
- house of the dragon: i'm looking for someone to write daemon against my oc! will happily double!
submitted by almondblossomsssss to DiscordRP [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 02:51 fry0129 [Waybound] a story about Ziel. so much Spoilers, like so much.

Hi everybody this is my first real attempt at fanfiction, spoilers for Waybound obviously. I stayed up unhealthily late Monday night to finish the book like a lot of people did. And the next day did one of the most boring jobs, dipping shingles and hanging them to dry for eight hours. The good news is I had plenty of time to think and made this story. Hopefully, if the response is good there will be more. Enjoy!



The Silverlord Fereleigh stepped into the iteration and stretched her power, the Abidan had abandoned this universe, it was on the edge of its sector and they would have an easier time stabilizing all the other iterations in this sector if they abandoned it. Plus it had a high likelihood of becoming irreparably corrupted in the next century. This meant that it was the perfect harvest for the Vroshir. And only one person stood in her way.
He appeared as a young man with green horns and a grey cloak. In his hands, he held a massive hammer and a shield that looked as though it was made from a turtle's shell. Both resonated with different kinds of Authority. It was his armor that worried her the most though, it was pitch black and seemed to drink in the light of the nearby star. So this was one of those new reapers that she had been hearing about, he felt more like a titan to Fereleighs senses, with a deep connection to the power of the shield. The man looked at her with relief, “Finally,” he said, and his voice echoed across the void between planets, “ I would have gone mad if I had to write up one more trade agreement or negotiate one more peace treaty. I swear Eithan chooses those assignments just to annoy me.”
Fereleigh had admired The Mad King for centuries, to her he had been the symbol that all Vroshir should strive to be, and she had modeled her power after his. But instead of one great fiend bound inside her, she had thousands of lesser ones, she carefully cultivated them from corrupted worlds. It meant she had to constantly contend with thousands of voices inside her pushing her to destroy and cause chaos.
This meant that when she saw the armor of the man who had helped kill Daruman all of her fiends pushed her to smite the person who wore it from existence. The Mad King would not waste time on words, so neither would she. A swirling sun of screaming voices appeared above her and shot a beam of condensed hatred hot enough to make the close by sun seem like a flickering ember and it was enhanced by her silver crown, the authority of a Silverlord. This attack was as much spiritual and mental as it was physical. And the person who received it would have to fight off the combined pain and hatred of thousands of tortured fiends.
The man caught it on his shield, Fereleigh had expected that. She had defeated titans before and they were annoyingly hard to kill but as long as you kept them cornered, they usually didn't have strong offensive power. Still, she had expected it to do more than ruffle his hair. In the next instant, he was in front of her and swinging his hammer down. The blow carried far more offensive power than she expected, at least the equal to his defensive. And she felt the other deep connection to the way this man possessed, a connection to the power of the hammer. But not the hammer of The Builder or The Maker, this was the hammer of The Breaker, the Unmaker. It carried the power of a wolf. She could see why this man had been chosen as a reaper.
Still, she felt her defenses could take it. It might burn through some of her fiends but it would be worth it to eliminate one of Ozriels pets. For he had left himself open. In striking with his hammer he couldn't defend with his shield. She struck out with another of her beams of hatred and was already feeling satisfied with her victory when the man's shield flashed and its power was activated and a golden avatar appeared around his body, the avatar took the image of a man with a shell and tail. Whatever creature had died to make that shield had been thousands of years older than Fereleigh with a will that was so strong it would break a world just by existing in it. It synergized with the man's will and black armor so that even though it struck his armor exactly where she intended it to, this time it didn't even ruffle his hair.
And finally, Fereleigh realized her mistake. The mistake that would cost her her life. And it had been staring her right in the face. This man wasnt a wolf or a titan. He was a Reaper, and his hammer carried The Blessing of Ozriel. It slammed straight through her shields, many of which had been scavenged from titans, and destroyed thousands of her fiends in an instant as they swarmed around her to guard her. And then it crashed into her chest and she felt her Origin crack.
When Fereleigh finally stopped moving she found herself in the core of one of the moons that orbited the main planet of the iteration. She immediately looked towards where she felt the man had been then she realized that from some odd coincidence three of five moons had been in alignment and she blasted straight through two before stopping. It should have been more she new, but the attack had been focused on breaking her origin, not her body. And it had worked, she now only had acces to a fraction of her former power, and the only reason she had survived was her long experiance as a Silverlord and the many seals she had wrapped around her soul, all of which were gone now.
“Thats disappointing, I thought you would have died from the first strike, obviously I need to train more.” the green horned man was floating above her with his hammer drawn back for another strike, which Fereleigh new would kill her. She fled. She tore open a portal into the way and vanished form the iteration. Only to be spit back out hundreds of miles away. She felt what he had done. He had sealed the entire iteration from anyone trying to leave. She could probably undo the seals given enough time but the man had already caught up to her. So she slipped through the way again. Not trying to leave, only trying to move to a different location in the iteration, which the seals allowed. And so started a game of cat and mouse where Fereleigh tried to run and hide long enough to figure out how to dismantle the seals keeping her from escaping. If there was one advantage she had, it was that she was slightly better at spatial transportation than him, which allowed her to stay ahead
As she did she contemplated the mans hammer. Incorporating Reaper artifacts into other weapons was notoriously hard to do, even the Abidan struggled with it and they had the willing cooperation of the Reaper himself. The destructive authority embedded in them broke down almost all other materials they came into contact with, sure The Mad King and the previous Makiel had made weapons with Reaper authority, but that was The Mad King and Makiel, unsurpassed craftsmen, well, almost unsurpassed. That the man had incorporated such a thing into his power was astonishing, though he was obviously still struggling to bring out its full potential. The hammer itself felt like it had been with the man since he was very young. So it was a wise choice to use to command authority. And as Fereleigh looked closer she realized that embedded in the head of the hammer was a black arrowhead, and it contained the finality of Death.
While she contemplated this a battle continued to rage between the two ascended. As Fereleigh slipped between the world again she threw a grenade at the main planet of the iteration. Either the greenhorned man would quit battle to stop it from releasing its sun sized detonation. Or he let it land to continue chasing her, which would destablize the entire universe with the amount it killed. Only right when it was about to enter the planets atmosphere a script circle appeared around the planet. Trapping the grenade in time. Fereleigh cursed, of course he had layered defenses over the planet before she got there. Than the grenade disappeared and appeared right in front of her where its seals vanished and it detonated in her face. She screamed in frustration as fire washed over her. Luckily she had teleported out before she got more than a sunburn.
The fight continued like this for what felt like hours. But in reality was only a few minutes. She unleashed a luck spirit that loved chaos and would twist fate around whoever she wanted, to either make there fate lean toward positive or negative outcomes. She swung with a butchers knife that was made of a piece of the night sky of a far off world. She hurled a worn out fishing net that could entrap a skilled member of the fox division. He either broke with his hammer, guarded with his shield, or straight up avoided when he needed. He must have an incredible Presence in order to meet each attack with precisly the force required.
Finally he cornered her in spinning green scripts, and Fereleigh new her end had come. In one last act of desperation she burned all her remaining fiends, only a little more than a hundred at this point, to unleash one last hate beam that flew towards him. She expected him to summon that golden avatar of absolute strength, but instead he simply held out his black armored hand and let the attack hit him. Given his authority over protection plus his armor the physical part of the attack wouldnt do him much damage, though she saw a little smoke rising from the armor. Likewise his spirit was strong and unyielding, and was able to withstand the attack. But the mental component must have been agony, hearing those endless screams like nails driven into your head. But his hard expression didnt change and he floated forward until he was infront of her. In his eyes she saw the judgement of an executioner, and somehow she new he was aware of her great sin. The last word Fereleigh the Silverlord heard before her the hammer descended was, “You deserve this.”
……………..
“Wow, that was impressive and very cool. I mean you usually are. But especially today” Ziels Dross made a contented noise as Ziel himself gathered up what corrupted remains were left of the Silverlord and contained them in a scripted ball. When he returned to The Grave he would put it into an incinerator-like machine Eithan and Lindon had made that could be used to imitate Eithan's power and erase anything put inside from existence. It couldn't be moved easily and could only be used on relatively small things. But it was still very useful. Dross, seeing Ziels hard face chimed in again “ Oh come on you enjoyed it. I know you did.” He had. It had been nice facing a real opponent. Granted not one that had a shot of defeating him but still one that could surprise him, like that fishnet, that would have really slowed him down if he had gotten caught in it. He knew there were thousands of people out there that could beat him, but he mostly worked inside worlds and didn't face any real opponents.
So he had enjoyed it, right up until Dross had told him how the woman came to her power. She had purposely corrupted worlds in order to grow fiends. Sacrificing millions to gain a few hundred fiends that would serve her well. In the end, it hadn't been any trick that had allowed Ziel to push back her final attack. His wrath had simply been greater. Ziel knew he would need to have a long talk with Emriss after this. Maybe take some time to relax with his friend, teach Lirin a little scripting. This was the primary way the new Reapers resisted corruption. Because for all Daruman had been good and just once, he had always preferred to work alone. And when he became the vessel for a True Fiend, he had no one he trusted to help him. No one stood for him when it really mattered.
Still fighting a silverlord had drained him. And her attacks were potent. He wouldn't have liked facing them without his dreadgod shield. He looked down at his gauntlet and found the metal twisted and some of the paint flecked off. His mind and body were sore. So he finished repairing the moons he had destroyed and slipped into the way, the seals he had placed around the iteration dissolving before him. Little Blue would come and clean up the corruption that had drawn the Vroshir in the first place. Ziel needed to sleep



Ok, so this is my first story I'm writing following the group's adventures through the way. I hope to make one for each member of the group but I started with Ziel because he is my guy. I have no idea how far down the line this is timewise. But I think a little bit for Ziel to beat a silverlord. Even with some of Ozriels power, armor made by him, and a dreadgod weapon. Though i personally think one day Ziels hammer will be even more significant than his shield.
I made some additions to Ziels power. I think the synergy of Shield and Hammer Icons work well with him. And it gives him both defensive and offensive power. Plus he is a reaper, he should be able to hit hard. The Hammer has also been a symbol that has been with him almost as long as his desire to protect. So I think he would have about equal authority over it. Obviously its a different type of hammer icon than Lindons. The addition of the shard of penance to his hammer I think works(in story it was added by Lindon and Eithan working together. Since he killed a dreadgod with a splinter of Ozriels power I thought that would help him gain some control over it(like when Yerin killed Sesh with penance, though that was a much bigger splinter) and also he is Ozriels apprentice even before he ascended and I think would medidate in front of the real Paths of Heaven in the labyrinth(including Ozriels door) as much as he can. Making him better attuned to death. I know everyone in the group has different abilities but i feel like they should all be at least a tiny bit connected to the power of the reaper. Any questions?
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2023.06.07 02:37 Ralts_Bloodthorne First Contact - Chapter 962 - The Shadows of Twilight

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There are some deeds, some crimes and horrors even our Mother, the Universe itself, loathes beyond all. And when this is the case, neither time, nor space, nor reality itself can deny her vengeance.
Because time is a flat circle... and we all dance on its twisting disk. - kwong879, Pukan philosopher, Post Second Precursor War Reconstruction Era
For three days and three nights did the Lady Lord of Hell, the Detainee herself, in all of her fearsome matronly glory, tempt the First Biological Disciple, Daxin Freeborn, Enraged Phillip.
And for three days and three nights did he deny her.
And thus did he pass into memory and legend. - The Book of Telkan
And before I took the lives of the damned, He did appear before us and commanded my hand still.
His glowing blue form a radiant mercy. For us.
For them. - Glory, Failure, Temptation, & Redemption, Magnus Oathsworn
There is no doubt of the fact of malevolence. The very universe itself reaches out to crush what she has birthed in an eternal struggle of hatred. There are, however, some sins which even in the face of annihilation cannot be countenanced. Some acts which even this malevolent universe will not tolerate. Protect the infants at all cost, for they are survival, and to sacrifice survival for the sake of survival shall bring only suffering and doom. - Wisdom of the Traveler, Tribulations, Chapter 5 Verse 1.
In the Age of Paranoia, Humanity's leadership ordered terrible things done. Not because they knew they were necessary, but because they might become necessary. Never realizing that the existence of those terrible things would drive them to find a reason to use them. — Prof. Kuruka N'anga, University of the Sacred Bough, Terra Nuevo
While many things enrage the Lady of Hell, in fact most things seem to, certain crimes and sins earn her personal wrath. The many men who took everything from her. The idiotic creatures who thought themselves masters of everything. And those who commit cruelties upon the innocent. For she sees all of mankind's many many sins and knows very few are clean of them. Wise beings fear when cold gray eyes turn upon them.
We were desperate, and in our desperation we reached for things that will haunt me for all eternity. We could have stopped at anytime, we should have stopped before it was too late. We ignored the warnings, in our hubris we were assured that what we were doing was necessary. We were right, but it was still wrong and there is not enough time in the universe to pay for what we did. We ignored all the warnings and applauded ourselves on our success...only moments later the shouts of joy and celebration became screams of terror as the gray-eyed one illustrated why the warnings of these dark sciences should be heeded. --Words found in a blood-soaked journal at dark site research station, this was the only document recovered. Site glassed and all traces of the research were redacted.
It was misty, with a little bit of rain. The anomaly was hidden behind artificially generated cloud cover so that it looked more like an overcast sun than the strange globe of psuedo-reality it was. The starwalk station was empty, no bones, no shades, no scars from the furious fighting that had taken place after the Glassing had driven the SUDS personnel insane.
Holos flickered, some advertising restaurants or stores, others with directions, some with safety warnings, and still others with just public service holograms. The mist made the holograms flicker and fade in and out as the focused laser systems were scattered by the tiny water droplets suspended in the air.
There was a beep and the gate opened, allowing Surscee to step from the starwalk to the platform. She was wearing revealing leathers, a bustier, a short skirt with copper strips for reinforcement, tight weave fishnet stockings, and polished black leather boots with silver buckles. Around her shoulders was a gauzy sheer cape that shed the moisture even as it gleamed and sparkled.
She stopped to examine a few of the public service announcements. Some making her smile, others making her shake her head.
"You are a window to the world of my ancestors, nine thousand years gone," she said softly, touching the base of the holo. She moved to another and watched it. "We are not so different, you and I," she said, her voice full of wonder. She watched a PSA to remind everyone not to bring plants from Earth in case of seed contamination. "Your lives were full of danger that eventually became mundane," she said softly.
"That's humanity in a nut shell," the voice from behind her was low, rough, a woman's whiskey and cigarettes voice.
"Although ever changing, thus, we are," Surscee said, straightening up. She turned around and looked over the short matron in her dark charcoal gray skirt and blouse. "Greetings, fearsome one."
"Greetings to you, sorceress," the Lady Lord of Hell said. She looked Surscee up and down slowly. "Huh."
Surscee raised an eyebrow.
"Nice to see the Great Value Red Sonja look isn't just an act," the Lady Lord of Hell said, turning and walking into the mist. "Magic, science, mysticism, technology, all the same to the ignorant." Her voice faded as she walked away.
Surscee watched the short woman walk away, then turned and went back to following the path.
She was startled to discover that the vending machines were not VI driven, but just mechanical with a few holograms.
One of the vending machines that normally dispensed energy drinks and fizzybrews was ripped open, like someone had hacked on it with a blade. Surscee noted that most of the Liquid Hate was gone.
She got a lemon-lime fizzypop and followed the softly glowing holographic line of the ground until she finally came to a small park.
She stopped at the playground, leaning against a cement post, and stared at it.
The swings moved slightly back and forth at the almost unfelt breeze that stirred the mist. Droplets of water ran down the slide. The swinging rings just rocked slightly in the air current. The seesaw and the spring horses, the jungle gym and the wooden playhouse all sat quietly, damp from the mist.
Surscee closed her eyes, cocking her head slightly, listening for any echoes of happiness gone by.
"I would bring them here to play, once I had soothed their trauma to where they could interact with one another, to the point they could do more than run and scream and claw at themselves," the voice of the gray eyed matron sounded behind Surscee.
The sorceress turned, seeing the darkly clothed matron standing under a tree, barely visible in the fog, lighting a cigarette.
"I recreated it in Hell, just for them. To let them be children again, to remember," her voice said. She took a drag off her cigarette and Surscee saw the stern planes of the smaller woman's face illuminated for a moment. When she exhaled smoke, Surscee could still see her gun-metal gray eyes.
"I set fallen angels to watch over the park with sword of burning sin and tridents of icy treachery," she said, then turned and walked into the mist.
Surscee frowned as the matron vanished into the mist.
She waited a moment, but the other woman was gone.
Surscee moved on, making no sign of effort as she brought up her defenses. Her fingernails twinkled slightly as the microscopic piezoelectric systems came online. The targeting reticles and the HUD elements appeared in her vision. She brought up the passive acoustic mapping and changed the hardness of the heels of her boots so that her boots clicked with each step.
The fog muffled the acoustic map slightly, the water droplets absorbing and redirecting sound, making the map fuzzy here and there.
She passed by a vending machine and smelled cigarette smoke. The onboard systems broke it down for her, putting it up in the tiny window beyond her left hand peripheral vision. No manufacturer signature, no trace elements from other worlds. Her onboards told her that it was Old Earth brand, the tobacco lacking any genetic engineering and the cigarette containing nothing but an asbestos filter, paper, and tobacco. No flavors, no genetic smoothing, no flavor enhancements. No record in the database she always carried loaded.
She frowned slightly.
"You are unmoved by human suffering, making you suitable for this task," a tired sounding man said from just past a set of benches. He was leaning against a fountain. He had shaggy cut dark hair, a simple pair of pants and shirt without decoration, and dark circles under his eyes.
Two steps and the figure vanished.
The echolocation acoustic mapping told her that there was a solid bipedal humaniod form there for a split second but it vanished just when she got in range of it.
Surscee followed the arc of the path, curiosity filling her.
She knew if the being that had manifested as a five meter tall demon with bat wings and a whip of burning warsteel links woven with barbed wire, or the short matron with the nasty steel knife, wanted to kill her, the being simply would.
Surscee was curious what the purpose of this was.
"Enemies never rest. That's why they're called the Enemy, you blithering morons. I swear, dealing with the two of you is like dealing with particularly naive and ignorant children who are shocked, shocked I tell you, that they can't ziptie a plastic bag around their head and dance in the middle of the Interstate during rush hour," the matron's voice was cruel and full of disdain. "Of course millions are dying, that's what happens when you act like atomic weapons are no more dangerous than sparklers."
Surscee didn't bother to look around, her onboard bioware systems letting her know that the point of origin for the voice kept moving and shifting.
A trivial trick with nanites and one she had used often to confuse and harry foes.
"Your weakness disgusts me," the woman's voice hissed from between two food vending machines. "If you spent less time crying and more time fixing the system you'd be done by now, you pathetic puling weakling."
Surscee smiled slightly.
The voice reminded Surscee of her mother mocking her lessers.
There was a small basket with berries and small fruits sitting on a bench and Surscee's smile got wider. She moved over and sat down, picking up the basket and setting it on her lap.
If the being wanted her dead, she would be dead, simple as that.
The berries were blackberries, strawberries, and raspberries. Clean, sweet and tart.
After a moment the matron came walking out of the fog, opening a breast pocket to remove a pack of cigarettes and a flint-steel lighter. The woman sat down, crossing her legs at the knee and smoothing her skirt. She then lit the cigarette, the flare of the lighter lighting her face with the warmth of the flame without making the face seem any warmer.
Surscee slowly chewed a blackberry as the cigarette was lit, puffed on, and the lighter clinked shut. The pack and the lighter went back into the top pocket, the matron's fingers nimbly buttoning up the pocket.
They sat there for a long moment.
"All of that power, all your knowledge and mastery of exotic and esoteric disciplines, and here you sit eating freshly picked berries and fruit," the matron said.
"I am a simple woman who enjoys simple pleasures," Surscee said, smiling.
"I could use someone like you on my team," the matron said, exhaling smoke. "Power, the will to dominate, the means to achieve the goals I set out for you."
"An enticing offer," Surscee said carefully. She picked up strawberry and bit off the tip, chewing slowly.
"With your brother as one of my Hell Knights, you would make an excellent Hell Storm," the matron said.
This time when she exhaled the smoke was tinged with a slight tang hot freshly spilled blood and a taint of brimstone.
"Acting as the agent of the Lady Lord of Hell herself," Surscee said. She picked up a black cherry and looked over it. "Empowered, strengthened, by the Lady Lord of Hell, to punish the wicked for their sins."
The matron nodded slowly.
"With you as the judge, myself as the jury, and my brother as the executioner," Surscee said, still smiling.
"At times," the matron said. She exhaled smoke and glared at the mist that surrounded them. "Do you know what sin mankind has fallen into?"
Surscee shook her head. "Pride, perhaps? My mother often spoke of sloth and gluttony, perhaps that?"
The matron shook her head. "No. Far far worse."
"I would hear your words, fearsome one," Surscee said, making sure her voice was respectful.
"An anecdote," the matron said. She sighed. "Later, in my life, as more and more people became enamored with being ethical, more for status than to be truly ethical, philosophers and those who called themselves ethecists began posing questions, providing answers, each of the seeking to be recognized as the pinnacle of ethics and morals that would guide humanity into a Golden Age."
"That smack of wickedness," Surscee said. "Of pride and arrogance."
The matron nodded. "One question, posed by academics to students, always enraged me. Asked by academics who had never traveled beyond their ivory towers or guarded enclaves, asked to pampered students who had spent their lives dwelling in luxuries beyond imagination to the people of my youth."
The matron reached down into the mist that covered her feet, lifting up a bottle of beer and popping the cap with a talon that immediately returned to a manicured nail.
"The question, put forth, involves a situation. I will explain it thusly: You are at a village in a war torn nation. A warlord arrives with his men, intending on killing the village. The reasons do not matter. However, the warlord makes you an offer, handing you a gun with a single bullet. Shoot one person, of your choice, and he will spare you and the survivors. Kill him, and his men will kill you, and allow the village to survive. Kill none, and he will order his men to kill all the villagers, man, woman, and child, but leave you to live," the matron said.
Surscee frowned. "A terrible choice."
The matron snorted. "The academics and ethical philosophers then asked their students: What is the most moral choice?" the matron looked at Surscee. "Care to make a guess?"
Surscee thought for a long moment. "Shoot one of his men. He did not say you had to kill a villager."
The matron laughed. "A choice fitting for a Great Value Red Sonja," she laughed. She shook her head. "But, you would be wrong. You see, you make the unethical choice to take a human life."
"Then what?" Surscee asked.
"To stand aside. That you do not make a choice. The philosophical correct answer was to stand aside, that the warlord and his men make their own decisions and it is not your responsibility nor your moral failing whatever they choose to do," the matron looked out at the mist, taking a swig of her beer. "Do nothing, let the trolley kill five, because for you to decide who lives and dies is unethical."
Surscee snorted. "Choosing to make no choice is a choice in and of itself. You should always seek to do the least harm and the greatest good."
The matron nodded.
"The cowardice disgusts me," the matron said. She took another swig of her beer and then a drag from her cigarette. She exhaled smoke tinged with blood and brimstone. "I need those who will not back down, who are willing to get in the mud and the blood and the beer to get the job done."
The matron held up a red apple. "Take the apple, accept my offer. Be my Hell Storm to your brother's Hell Knight."
"Your offer humbles me," Surscee said. "It does not matter if my brother took your offer, I am Oathsworn to Lady Nakteti the Traveler. My duty is clear, it lies with my sworn liege."
"But what of your duty to your people?" the matron asked. "What of your duty to humanity?"
"I represent humanity wherever I go. Shall my actions, my decisions, lead the people's of the galaxy to believe that humanity are oath breakers? That our word, our bond, our oath, carries no meaning other than to further our own aims and goals? That we will abandon them, no matter what oaths we swear?"
The matron was silent.
"I am tempted by your offer, but I must, respectfully, refuse," Surscee said.
"Very well," the matron said. She blew on her fingertips and the apple dissolved. She stood up, taking a moment to smooth her skirt and tug the cuffs of her sleeves.
"You would have made an excellent Hell Storm," the matron said, exhaling smoke.
When it cleared, she was gone.
Surscee closed her eyes and heaved a great breath.
"I have passed the test, I hope," she said softly.
Only the dripping of water in the mist answered her.
[first] [prev] [next] - [wiki]
submitted by Ralts_Bloodthorne to HFY [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 02:19 Oblio72 [OC] Nearly took this little guy out with my lawn tractor. He/she didn't move all day... was gone in the morning - hopefully with mom.

[OC] Nearly took this little guy out with my lawn tractor. He/she didn't move all day... was gone in the morning - hopefully with mom. submitted by Oblio72 to aww [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 02:11 AshCanDaTheoreticMan I want a game like Dungeon Maker 2 hidden war

I only recently found out about the drpg genre but when I was a little kid we had dungeon maker 2 on the psp and no other game hits that itch the same way. The premise of making the dungeon to catch monsters and enter to defeat them just hit every spot in my nerd girl brain and I need more like it. Please tell me there are games like that
submitted by AshCanDaTheoreticMan to DRPG [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 02:04 Anti_exe325 Pink Octane by Green seal Cannabis Co. 27.2% Thc 3.5g

Pink Octane by Green seal Cannabis Co. 27.2% Thc 3.5g
(This is my first Strain review so be mindful of that) Strain And Overview: Pink Octane: This indicates dominant strain hits hard and smokes smooth. with a earthy citrus smell. and a pungent taste, this strain is perfect for daily smokers. the high is cerebral but does relax the body as well. its hard hitting and long lasting, it just make you feel good too.
Effects/High: Although bring a Indica this hits you in the head in just the right way. but that doesn't mean that the indica is lost. you feel this high throughout your entire body. this strain will leave you relaxed and happy. overall I'd give the high a confident 9.2/10. honestly the high is the best part of this weed. and really that's your smoking weed for so this one's great. first green seal pickup I LOVED.
Bag Appeal: These were medium sized green nugs with purple specks, orange psitils and friasted in a layer of kief. overall for bag appeal alone I'd give it a 7.9/10
Smell: I'm not the greatest at describing smells but, this strain Has a inital strong earthy aroma. then you get the Dank Gas smell. and finally on the back end you get a slight sweet citrus aroma. I'd give Pink Octane a 6/10 as the smell was lacking, but that could be the packaging date.
Consumption methods: bong: Out of the bong you get a strong earthy, gassy taste with sweet notes on the end. it is really smooth and gives and nice head high as well as a nice body high. Left my eyes heavy and my mind happy. joint: When smoking a joint the flavour comes through much stronger. with Pink Octane you really get a gas taste and it kinda overpowers the sweet notes but, the citrus is still noticeable. it hits the head and eyes harder and burns clean. the ash was mainly white but did have specks of black. lastly the resin ring was well developed and even running at times. overall a great and tasty smoke. kingpalm/blunt: the thicker smoke provides a different smoking experience. the flavour was obviously affected and I found it a little harsher too. the ash was more peppery too this time. overall still really enjoyable too. smoothness, flavour and ash burning mainly pure makes this one a 8/10 on the smoking experience.
Price: I picked this 8th up from my local store. it was on sale for $35.49 for the 8th, and it's not much pricer on OCS. coming in at $35.99 for the 8th.
Rating: Overall I like the High a lot. I smoke a lot daily and I find a lot of the Indicas feel the same lately. so to get a cerebral high but also the body high is a nice change. the flavour is Dank and gassy, and earthy with slight sweet citrus notes. and i find the strain to be consistently really smooth. my bag was packaged on January 23 2023 wirhout a humidity pack so my nugs were a little stiff but that didnt really effect the smoking experience. So I'd say that Pink Octane is a 8.7/10 strain and I would recommend it to any smoker that likes a hard hitting indica with sativa notes.
submitted by Anti_exe325 to TheOCS [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 01:52 motherofcorgss Update: Woke up to a note in my mailbox today

Please see my previous post for the whole story, but tl;dr my estranged dad left me a note in my mailbox that my estranged mom died.
I never contacted my Uncle (NMom’s brother) as the note instructed. A few days later he showed up AT MY HOUSE. I was caught off guard and didn’t answer the door. I figured my silence would’ve sent the message that I wanted no parts of this. When he left, there was another note to tell me to call the funeral home for her arrangements. I called the funeral home directly and was informed that they needed me to sign off on her cremation forms. Medicaid covered her cremation, but her family also wanted a viewing and a service (which is what they needed my permission to do and also pay for).
I wouldn’t have been contacted otherwise. Shitty, but not surprising.
The funeral home was wonderful to me and said that her family “isn’t entitled to anything” and they are not “the decision makers” I am. I said no to the funeral and everything else and they informed her family for me. They called me when her ashes came in and I picked them up. If anyone thinks I’m being petty here, yes I am. The audacity to not just leave me alone. When my younger brother died, my Nmom and her family went to the funeral home and made all the arrangements without consulting my dad and I- but had them send my dad the bill. Spelled my son’s name wrong in the obituary too. None of them including Nmom paid a dime, my dad and I did. So this was my payback.
I’ll be sending her ashes to my estranged Aunt in another state. What I was told from her son (also doesn’t talk to anyone like I do) was that none of my NMom’s brothers even called her to inform her that she had died. Hence cementing my suspicions they only contacted me to do something for them. My aunt will get her ashes and if the rest of her shitty family wants to see them or ask for some they’ll have to call their sister and probably explain themselves. From what I hear she’s really pissed. Whatever, it’s off my plate now and not my problem.
I found out where she lived and contacted her landlord to ask if anyone has been in touch to clean out her apartment. He said that my uncles have been but he needed my permission. My uncles haven’t contacted me any further because I’m assuming they’re pissed off I shit all over their funeral plans and we’re trying to figure out a way around this without informing me. I did give the landlord permission for them to clean out her space. They’re greedy but what they don’t realize is that my mother didn’t have anything of value, she sold anything for drugs years ago. They can do the legwork and pick the scraps and fight amongst each other. I don’t want anything of hers anyway. I am listed on her death certificate and I’ll be closing her bank accounts tomorrow. There’s probably very little if anything in there anyway, but they won’t get to have it. I’ll be using it for the shipping fee for her ashes.
I’m doing okay though.
submitted by motherofcorgss to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 01:51 TruckerWilliams [Spoilers] Father Day is coming up soon so I thought it would be fun to see how each of Primarchs feel about The Emperor so here every quote I could find on them giving their opinion.

This post is just for fun and I tried to only find quotes about their opinions on Big E before the Heresy also after reading some of these quotes you can tell some Primarchs are more direct towards the feelings toward the Emperor compared to others also feel free to post any quotes I missed I know for a fact I missed some.
Lion El Jonson
1.) "There will be no new Emperor, only a lifetime of war. My brothers will bleed each other dry, contesting for eternity until there can be no victor. No, not even him. There is only the Emperor, none is worthy of inheriting that mantle. I will ensure the Legiones Astartes destroy themselves before another matches the power upon Terra." - The Primarchs
Fulgrim
2.) "Even in my moments of blackest doubt, all that sustained me was the utter certainty of my ultimate achievement of perfection The Emperor was the shining paragon of that dream’s attainment.
"I dreamed of one day being like him of standing at his shoulder and feeling his pride and love for me." - Fulgrim
Perturabo
3.) "Our father knows more than us. He has seen further than us. If He tells us there are regions of the warp into which even He does not dare look, then we are beholden to accept that." - Magnus the Red: Master of Prospero
4.) "The Emperor uses me for the most thankless tasks. My men are thrown against the worst of horrors, given the most gruelling roles. We are divided, our talents ignored, our might reduced to splitting rock. My father ignores me." - Perturabo: Hammer of Olympia
Jaghatai Khan
5.) "My Father was neither a monster nor a simpleton. He did a thing only because it had to be done. Perhaps He could have explained more, but I will not believe, even now, that there was not a reason for His choices." - Path of Heaven
6.) "So I fight for a Father who I never loved, against a brother that I did." - Path of Heaven
Leman Russ
7.) “I fought the Allfather, that is true, and He bested me, for the gods themselves fear Him, mightiest of men." - Leman Russ: The Great Wolf
8.) "Sometimes I think the emperor isn’t half as clever as he thinks he is." - Wolfsbane
Rogal Dorn
9.) "We must forever hold the Emperor’s judgement as the highest there is, or we must wonder if we are nothing more than creations of vanity. He is the Master of Mankind, and he will steer us to Enlightenment." - Deliverance Lost
10.) "I trust the Emperor to know best." - Deliverance Lost
Konrad Cruze
11.) "'You made me as your judge. It is my purpose. I am the weigher of souls. Do you wish to know, father, how I judge you?’
He leaned so close to the effigy that his nose brushed the slippery meat of it.
‘Guilty,’ he whispered." - Konrad Curze: The Night Haunter
12.) (Sanguinius speaking) - "He wants to believe the Emperor made him a broken puppet so that he can convince himself he was right all along." - Angels of Caliban
Sanguinius
13.) "The Emperor has concerns that go far beyond the needs of his individual sons. You know that is so. We all know that is so." - Fear to Thread
14.) "Fathers lie to their sons to protect them, to save them. Our father hid Himself for untold millennia among mankind, revealing Himself only when He deemed the time right. The story of our scattering was a necessary lie, if indeed it is a lie." - Pharos
Ferrus Manus
15.) "On Medusa, he had battled the giant elementals that dwelled within its mountains, conversed with ancient spirits that spoke in magmic eructation and the shaking of the earth, aided an Iron Father in the exorcism of an enraged machine, and he knew the Emperor’s ‘Truth’ for a useful lie." - A lesson in Iron
Angron
16.) "We fight because the Emperor wants every world in his hands. All he knows is slavery, painted in the inoffensive cloak of compliance. The very notion of freedom is a horror to him." - Betrayer
Roboute Guilliman
17.)"He is not my father, he created me, but I assure you, priest, that he was no father. King Konor of Macragge was my father." (This after the Heresy)
Mortarion
18.) "The first time I met Him He stole from me my life’s struggle. It was nothing to Him, a bump in His smooth road to godhood. He took what I had worked and suffered for and He did not care! He called Himself the Emperor! What kind of being has the presumption to claim such a title? Who takes and takes the affections of His sons and gives so little in return? He would not even deign to tell us His name!" - Dark Imperium: Plague War
Magnus
19.)"Under the Emperor, we have perpetuated a holy war that has sucked worlds dry of resources and cost billions upon billions of lives. We have spent life like meaningless currency, all because one man said we must. How many cultures have we annihilated, Vulkan? How many have we assimilated and robbed of their vitality, replacing innovation with conformity? How much knowledge have we destroyed because father decided no one was allowed to learn it?" - Echoes of Eternity(During the Heresy)
Horus
20.) "He trusts me to make the decisions he would make. He trusts me to make no mistakes. I must be allowed the freedom to interpret policy on his behalf." (Before the Heresy)
Lorgar
21.) "You are immortal, undying, seeing all and knowing all that transpires across creation. Father, you are a god in all but name." - The First Heretic (Before the Heresy)
Vulkan
22.) Emperor - "I am a singular being, Vulkan. I am a man, and also more than man. I sometimes think of myself as a creator, much as you think of yourself. A maker. At other times, a father. Yet, I find I am... removed. My concerns are of a lofty nature.'
Vulkan "You cannot relate to them, to mankind, even though you claim to be one of them. You made sons so that you would not be alone, so that you could share company with like minds, if not equal minds." - Mercy of the dragon
Corvus Corax
23.) "The Emperor is all the things he wishes to be. He has been both tyrannical and compassionate, merciless and merciful. But I have seen into him, and I have touched minds with him in a way no other can. And at the core of what others see is a man of humility and wisdom and learning. He is a man driven by the rational. A tyrant craves domination, but the Emperor carries his power like a burden, the responsibility for all of humanity on his shoulders. He is everything he must be, not out of desire, but from duty and necessity." - Corax Soulforge
Alpharius Omegon
24.) "He has many great ambitions, and the noblest of intentions, but I know that above all else, He is determined to stand firm against the rise of Chaos. He has always known the truth of it. The overthrow of the Primordial Annihilator is His greatest wish. So what I do, autarch, from this moment on, I will do for the Emperor." - Legion
Bonus
Malcador
"He has sacrificed more than any of us, and He does not use it for Himself. A man may pursue a single goal and become the master of that endeavour, only to find himself weakened in all other pursuits. The Emperor battles daily with forces beyond understanding, yet you expect Him to retain a mortal sympathy." - Jaghatai Khan - Warhawk of Chogoris
submitted by TruckerWilliams to 40kLore [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 01:41 Meatpaste1729 Better Sniper Balance: In response to the Hanzo/Widow One-shot update and post that is currently front page

Here's the post
I think the changes are a bit goofy and won't fix the issue, (see top comments on linked post) and I want to ask about my own ideas and if/why they'd work or not instead. Scroll to the bottom for those~
Before I proper start, I'm biased and hopefully that's okay. I was briefly a 3500 tank main and hopefully that's enough credential to be seen as having a decent sense of the game over the years
Snipers in fps games can always be some level of contentious, because their gameplay often revolves around headshots, and a cycle of either broken or unplayable gameplay balancing. This is not an easy problem to solve, I'm not an expert, I just want to throw my spaghetti into the wind about it
I've always found Widow to be the least 'fun' champion, mostly through what she asks of other players on her team implicitly: -Low damage output means players have to either pick up dps slack or wait for a headshot. -Extreme backline position means I had to do the most work to peel for one, and had the most difficulty 'feeling out' if I was providing good frontline pressure to open up better shots -One shots are less fun than combined damage kills for almost everyone involved except the shooter; The healers don't get to heal, the tanks don't get to shield, and even the other dps on the team doesn't get to assist. (This is a little bit hyperbole, there is pressure and positioning to think of, snipers just do it the least visibly and thus most frustratingly)
Hanzo I don't personally mind as much because his burst is higher (i can play around a hanzo air jumping in with his 5 quick shots easier than a widow's aggressive grapple) and he's often more midrange, i.e. interactable, but he can certainly spam at head height and farm tilt. He has very similar problems to Widow, I just like his playstyle more
So what are the changes going to do?
Widow is getting her long range nerfed, bringing her more midrange if she wants headshots. Good! We can interact with her! And also, bad! Horrible! Her dps is already so low that my shields will always break before my fellow opponent tank's, now it's even worse!
Hanzo's Sonic arrow is now 'more visible' to enemies, good, i like this one, it's been needed for a long time.
Hanzo can't one-shot 250hp targets thanks to a slight dps nerf. Good? Who cares? Isn't the problem squishes dying from casually tossed cross map log spam?
I don't think these changes will fully fix the issue, and I do think they risk pushing the sniper class from op to bottom tier for most Elo tiers, so here are my own custom oc do not steal but please do if they're any good, suggestions:
Widow needs a DoT poison shot on her primary sniper. It's wild she only has poison on her mine and terribly unthematic. But, it can't be all DoT because that's Anna, and her iconic sniper shot sound wouldn't match viscerally with the damage type or the hero.
So, take a portion of the total damage of the shot, and convert it to a poison DoT that ticks over the next few seconds. And tie that ratio to the distance the shot was taken at! Or even the speed at which the dot ticks, maybe with a small window of grace for a healer
Examples: Fully charged widow headshot at -200m: 300 damage, 50 instant and 250 over 3 seconds after a delay of 0.5 seconds -100m: 300 damage, 150 instant and 150 over 2 seconds after a delay of 0.5 -50m: 300 damage, 190 instant and 110 over 1 second after a delay of 0.5 -10m: 300 damage, 240 instant and 60 over 0.5 seconds after 0.5 seconds
The main reasons to like this is how modular balancing widow becomes, because you may not like these numbers but each can be changed! The damage of the shot, duh The instant/dot damage ratio at any specific range The time it takes for the dot to deal its full damage The grace period before the 'poison' sets in that allows a healer to save the day
Unironically Widows damage could be buffed under these conditions. Her damage at long range could be increased if needed, with the stipulation that it's a long range DoT that will tick over a longer time. I'm not saying i want that, just that this damage system allows for it without making it an instant one shot, which is pretty cool I think!
Okay so hanzo gets the same treatment, but different flavor and a little simpler. He always talks about marking people by dragon, so why not actually have that as a core mechanic:
-First shot marks, deals ~70-90% of it's total damage, adds a mark -Second shot procs the mark, deals ~70-90% of it's total damage plus the 10-30% of the first shot, plus a new mark -Third shot deals ~70-90% of it's total damage, plus the first shot mark damage, plus MAYBE the second shot mark damage as well! This accounts for shots having different amounts of charge and damage, so hopefully it won't promote a playstyle of having to shoot one limp arrow to mark and one big boi to nuke.
Simple as, don't get hit two or more times How do I know I'm marked? Maybe Hanzo says something, maybe there's a UI indicator How long does the mark last? Maybe its only who you hit last, and it's permanent until you hit someone else, maybe it lasts 3-10 seconds and you can apply it to whoever Can any of his other moves mark? Storm for sure but numbers would need to be shifted so the average damage is about the same. Maybe sonic arrow, if the mark duration was shorter? Definitely ultimate damage should mark! Tagging people with follow up shots after the twin dragons tickle them could be fun.
Point is, all the suffering is on the first shot, so just shuffle that pain over a bit, suddenly its a mechanic and you can play around it or be rewarded for chaining arrows together!
Thanks for reading however much of it you did~
Edit: Sorry I'm a clown at formatting
TLDR: Why don't we take Hanzo and Widow, and push their damage somewhere else?
submitted by Meatpaste1729 to Overwatch [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 01:19 temptationaus UFC 289: Nunes vs Aldana (Provide Picks Full Card Breakdown and Analysis)

2023 Results (So Far): +13.78 Units
2022 Results: +73.185 Units
All Time: +87 Units
Quick recap for last week - one of our worst weeks in some time. It was a very frustrating watch on quite a lot of our bets. I mentioned in our betting mailout post weigh-ins that this was a massively dicey card in that it was going to be a hugely positive results or quite a rough week for betting and that came completely true (sadly). Recap:
  1. Daniel Santos ITD and under 2.5 rds - I don’t know how Munoz hung in there, he was getting absolutely battered at some many points. That one hurt.
  2. Castaneda wins RD 2/ RD 3 - A tonne of people riding the Gafarov side in this one, he showed some good heart and durability but Castaneda was the clear a side in this one as I thought. In retrospect, this was a really sharp bet and I think we were unlucky not to hit here.
  3. Zaleski ITD - on the right side with a close fight between these two, ITD never really looked likely. Chalk it.
  4. Tim Elliott ML - was my strongest lean and at a good price. All week I thought he would just be better than Altamirano everywhere and he was. I think Victor looked good and he is getting better and the guy is super tough but just outclassed in this one.
  5. Kara-France/Albazi under 4.5 rds - thought this was hitting when Albazi had the back of Kai and was choking him out, Kai did unreal to survive that. Close fight, never really close to any finish besides that RNC. Is what it is.
I think we were unlucky on a few of those picks and if a few things had gone differently it wouldve been a mammoth week. That’s part of the game though! Play your value, make your reads properly week after week and you will get your dues - firm believer.
Anyways enough waffle - let’s get into this week’s shenanigans. Name value wise, this is one of the worst PPV’s in some time - gotta feel for those Canadian fans. However, I say it most weeks, any weekend with MMA in my life is a better weekend than if there was nothing! Some strong favourites and some interesting underdogs this week.
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David Dvořák (20-5) vs. Steve Erceg (9-1):
Erceg is a rangey FLW who fights out of OD. Decent little leg kick, more of a counter striker. He has good timing on his wrestling entries, good at using the overhand right consistently and then using that setup to feint and use double leg entries. Erceg also has really nice outside leg trips. He’s quite an elite grappler, very sharp on the ground and is outstanding at finding the back and on the mat he is so comfortable. He has complete control with his long arms and legs and is able to use them expertly to position his opponent where he wants them. He just has a great variety of submissions he is able to go to depending on the scramble situation. He is also very good at using his height to hold people against the cage and has really good knees in the clinch. Dvorak is an elusive, well rounded guy on the feet. He is quite a movement orientated FLW, very bouncy and likes to fight on the outside and off the back of his jab. Quite a wide base and can be very measured which means he should have good balance against an incoming takedown. He does at times rush into exchanges at times which worries me that he will get level changed and clean taken down. He is the far more experienced fighter with almost double the fights and this does seem like a step down in competition. Coming into this fight I thought I would be far on the Dvorak side given the striking advantage but I think Erceg can give Dvorak a lot of issues on the ground here with his scrambling ability and outside leg trips in the clinch. Close fight, edging Dvorak but if we see Erceg as a big underdog, I am definitely playing him, potentially by sub. For now, I will take David Dvorak via UD.
BET: If Erceg is over a +250 underdog, 1 unit play on Erceg. If I can get Erceg via SUB at +500 or more, I am definitely playing that.
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Chris Daukaus (12-6) vs. Khalil Rountree (11-5) [CANCELLED BUT I HAD ALREADY ANALYSED SO ENJOY LOL]
Rountree is a SP Thai style fighter, he has very quick, sharp hands that pair with his explosive variety of kicks nicely. He has always been a super talented guy but struggled mentally so it is nice to see him put things together in that area as well as develop physically. I like the way he handfights in opposite stances, he really accentuates the rear body kick and straight shots which is excellent, it works better when he works off the back of his lead hand feints. Can be partial to losing a little technique with his boxing combos and swinging wildly which a skilled boxer in the pocket will take full advantage of. Daukaus coming down for to 205 for this fight which is a move that shouldve happened sooner IMO. He’s mainly a boxer who relies on quick hands in close, landing some decent volume but can be out powered. If you look at Daukaus’ record, there’s a clear trend - he KO’s grapplers and loses to competent strikers. Will be interested to see him on the scales but skill for skill, I favour Rountree’s kicking game to really shine here and given this will be an OD vs SP matchup, I favour the Rountree side even more - I expect the lead hand feints, sharp crosses and rear body kick to dictate this fight and lead to a KO within 2 rounds. Taking Khalil Rountree via TKO RD 2.
BET: Will be looking at the unders, Khalil ITD if in the range of -130 and under.
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Nassourdine Imavov (12-4) vs. Chris Curtis (30-10):
This is a pretty tough fight to handicap given we have seen such varying degrees of success from both men. Imavov is a long, flowy Orthodox mainly kickboxer who has good footwork and really good straight shots. He has a similar style of footwork to his main training partner Cyril Gane however he has far less head movement and this really does show as he is quite hittable. I do really like the variety in the kicking game of Imavov, he has a very agile lead lead leg which means a lot of teeps, side kicks, oblique kicks and calf kicks. Imavov is far better when he is dictating the fight off the back of his jab and the one moving forward, when he is the one moving backwards his head movement is far worse, his chin is there to be hit and his footwork leaves him just in range. Chris Curtis is a Southpaw boxer who has a simple game plan in his fights - keep the fight standing with his great takedown defence and land the more significant shots in the pocket. He is good at moving forward, cutting off the cage and relying on initial slips and a high boxing guard to defend most shots. His lead hand is somewhat active but his money maker is definitely his body rips, which generally come off his slipping actions, as well as his rear hand cross. Given his heavy lead leg orientated boxing stance, Curtis has very little kicking ability and his ability to check kicks is next to nothing - this is an area I fully expect Imavov to exploit. To me, Imavov is going to be landing more volume, with the kicks and the hands, dictating where this fight takes place. I think Curtis will be slowly trying to move forward, cut the cage and use his power shots to the body to wear on Imavov to where he can take over late. I think the movement of Imavov will be enough to use angles in and out, land more often and use the clinch to get the Thai plum for knees to the body and to hold Curtis against the cage if need be. This is a close fight, I think the odds are pretty bang on here. Not interested in betting this fight but I will slightly edge Nassourdine Imavov via UD (29-28).
BET: Too many unknowns for me, no bet.
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Aiemann Zahabi vs. Aoriqileng
Zahabi is one of the strangest fighters to breakdown for me simply because he is so awkward in his movements. He switches stances as he moves forward in the most uncomfortable looking way. I like his kicking counters, has nice kickboxing style counters and he clearly has some power in his hands. He is very low volume and looks to be the counter striker, letting his opponent throw first and then countering off that. He fights super infrequently which concerns me but is riding a few OK wins. Coming up against Aoriqileng here who is definitely rounding out his skill-set and getting better which you like to see. Defensively, he is good at just staying out of range with his footwork and staying in a tight shell, he also has a really good chin to absorb shots. Offensively, he is OK, he could probably benefit from using his jab more but he has good timing on his shots and has nice boxing combos in close specifically. He likes to lead in with a lead left hook and follow with his big cross and work off that. In this one, I think Aoriqileng is the side to be on. I think he is the more well-rounded fighter who can use his wrestling to mix things up but on the feet, I favour his power and hand-speed and I think he will touch Zahabi up in this one. I think Fight Ready will have Aoriqileng primed here and I think he will look better than his last fight. Taking Aoriqileng via UD.
BET: Swaying on an Aoriqileng ML play but as of right now, nothing.
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Blake Bilder vs. Kyle Nelson
I think Bilder is better in every single area of this fight. He’s a better boxer, he is more durable, his grappling is probably his best aspect of his game and I think he will wear on Nelson here and outlast him. Bilder is (pardon me) building into his career nicely, I think this is a good opponent for him to put a showcase on against. Am curious to see what some props on Bilder ITD will be. I think he will have more volume, more power and he will be more live to finish the fight. I think Bilder’s speed will catch Nelson and then he will find a submission. Taking Blake Bilder via SUB RD 2.
BET: Nothing outlayed currently. Potential Bilder ITD play if +250. Probably a parlay piece.
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Diana Belbiţă vs. Maria Oliveira
Close fight. Not interested here.
BET: no bet.
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Jasmine Jasudavicius vs. Miranda Maverick
Now this is a fight that I might surprise some with. Let’s start with Maverick - she got a huge wrap from Anik probably over 1.5 years ago claiming she would beat Shevchenko. Now while that is completely ludicrous, she has shown a decent amount of talent. On the feet, she is pretty technical with her kickboxing, looking her best when she is at range and can use her kicks to dictate the fight. She is pretty well-rounded with an OK offensive wrestling game, generally built off clinch pressure and outside/inside trips. Now where she has struggled is her defensive wrestling, she is content to get stuck on her back and shows an inability to move or improve position. She is coming up against Jasudavicius here, who while is incredibly average on the feet, is honestly a very impressive female wrestler. She is BIG for the division, she is durable and she has really good forward pressure. I think while this fight is on the feet, Maverick will be the far better striker but I think Jasudavicius will be like a dog in this fight, moving forward, absorbing shots while she closes distance and holds Maverick up against the cage, using her massive frame before working takedowns and trips and maintaining top position to win minutes. I think this is a decent matchup for Jasudavicius and I think frankly that this is a far closer fight than the odds would indicate. It should be close but I am taking Jasmine Jasudavicius via UD.
BET: Jasudavicius ML +260 (1 unit to win 2.6).
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Mike Malott vs. Adam Fugitt
Hometown boy in Mike Malott in this one. Malott fights out of both but southpaw stance mainly, with a Thai style striking game mixing powerful hands and sharp rear power kicks while keeping the fight in his range. On the ground he has really good BJJ, I like how smothering his top pressure is - he has really good balance to hold top position but uses it well to land good ground and pound and hunt submissions. He has good power in his hands, especially in his hooks that land in perfect placement and with excellent timing. Fugitt also fights out of southpaw and is a sort of OK everywhere but not great anywhere sort of fighter. He looks comfortable on the feet but is extremely hittable, not a lot of head movement but is super durable, I mean that head kick he just ate from Kinoshita was so flush and it didnt even wobble him. He is a Muay Thai bred fighter but has good wrestling pressure and we saw in his last fight that he can mix in takedowns, maintain top position and use vicious elbows to finish the fight. If we see SP v SP on the feet, I think this will be pretty closely contested. Both guys are fairly rudimentary strikers with Malott probably having more power but I think Fugitt has the durability to withstand this. I probably favour the grappling of Malott, I think pure grappling wise he is stronger and more technical and given I think that the striking is fairly close, I am going to lean Mike Malott via UD.
BET: Curious to see what the over 1.5 is set at given Fugitt is durable and can probably withstand Malott.
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Dan Ige vs. Nate Landwehr
Man I love Nate Landwehr as a person and a personality within the UFC but this is just a really difficult matchup for him. Ige is super well-rounded with good power in his hands, nice movement, Hawaiian durability, effective offensive wrestling and good grappling. He is good in brawls but also content to fight from the outside and land his shots. Nate thrives when he can make these fights absolute scraps and wear on his opponent but I just don’t see Dan succumbing to the pressure of Nate. Nate’s chin can definitely be cracked and I think Ige has too much power in his hands, I think he will touch Nate and I think he will put him away. It’s a big step up in competition and one that I would love to see Nate do well in, but going to have to side with the more proven, well-rounded commodity at this point and take Dan Ige via TKO RD 2.
BET: no bet.
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Eryk Anders vs. Marc-André Barriault
No time to watch tape and honestly not much interest. Two grappling offensive heavy boys. You’d think this goes overs.
BET: No bet
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Charles Oliveira vs. Beneil Dariush
And finally, we are at the main event of the evening! Just kidding, but seriously…. We know who Charles Oliveira is, he is an aggressive, forward pushing, muay thai striker with elite offensive grappling. On the feet, I love Charles’ offense. He has technically beautiful and powerful boxing combinations, he has solid leg kicks, he has a agile lead leg which we see lets him use his teep to the guts and check kicks intermittently, he is just a lot to deal with. However, where he falls is his striking defence. He is susceptible to being hit and this is purely because he has no head movement and is always on centre line. While his recovery time is pretty decent, his chin isn’t great and we have seen that he can be submitted after being hurt if the opponent isn’t concerned with entering the grappling space with him. Onto Beneil Dariush - super well rounded guy, fights out of SP and is on some sort of upward trajectory career wise. While I do think the competition level can be slightly questioned, the same could have been said (and was said) of Charles post Kevin Lee / Tony Ferguson, but these guys cant prove themselves against top flight competition if they don’t get their chance and Beneil is getting his shot here. Beneil is good but not great on the feet, he has a sort of awkward style where he isn’t super explosive and is kind of flat footed but he does have power, good leg kicks and a decent chin. He has excellent takedown defence to keep the fight standing and if his opponent does get him down, he has elite scrambles to threaten submissions, specifically leg entanglements to use this to get back to his feet. Straight up, this is an excellent fight and we are in for a treat. How does this fight play out? It is definitely the critical question. I actually think Do Bronxs offensive wrestling is hugely underrated, he has elite double legs and if he can clinch up with you, especially against the cage, his knees to the body and elbows on the break and massive for wearing on his opponent. I honestly don’t think we see a massive amount of ground time here unless someone is rocked and wants to jump in, I think Beneil’s TD DEF is good enough to stay on the feet and I doubt he’s putting himself out to shoot singles and doubles and risk a scramble scenario with a non-concussed Charles. So the question is, who is the better striker? I think it’s Charles. I think his lead teep is going to be a huge weapon here, I think he will push the pace, use that to keep range and just wear at Beneil as well as off his jab and as long as he can avoid the big overhand left that Beneil loves, I think he is live in this one. Beneil drops his hands as he leg kicks and I can see Charles timing this, blocking the power left kick from Beneil and countering with left hook on the chin and I think we might see a ground and pound stoppage here. It is a super close fight, one that will be exciting from the start and one that will hurt no matter who loses. I think the odds are closer to a 50/50 than the bookmakers have it - I am taking Charles Oliveira via TKO RD 1.
BET: Charles Oliveira ITD +180 (1 unit to win 1.8)
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Amanda Nunes vs. Irene Aldana
This is a much more interesting fight than the previous Pena scheduling so I don’t mind seeing this replacement. Mexican fighters are on a hell of a run in title fights, so I am sure Aldana will be absorbing that momentum coming into this. Aldana is a very typical style Mexican fighter, good boxing especially in the pocket, some wicked durability and a really nice jab. She can be wrestled and taken down but for a mainly boxing fighter she manages to catch people in some strange scrambles sometimes which could play a key here. The main questions for Nunes is and always tends to be, what is her motivation like? We know how she fights, she loves to try and strike on the feet, has mean power but can also shoot takedowns and grapple with severe efficiency when she gets on top. We knew Pena was going to be durable, be awkward, be relentless and keep pushing forward and she did and she wore on Nunes. I think Aldana can do the same here, if she fights off the back of her long jab, she is a much more technical striker than Nunes IMO - and to be honest, I think Nunes has slightly regressed in her technicality on the feet. Aldana has a path to victory in fighting behind the jab, frustrating Nunes to engage in a dog fight which is much to Aldana’s benefit. I also think Nunes has a path to victory by working her takedowns, working her kicking game and winning minutes by smothering the output of Aldana. I capped this fight 55/45 to Aldana, will wait to see what they both look like on the scale before I pull the trigger but there is a potential of a Aldana ML play here if we get the right number. The pick will be Amanda Nunes via SUB RD 4 but has the potential to change.
BET: No bet currently, potential Aldana ML play.
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And that wraps up the breakdowns for this week! Good luck, always gamble responsibly and remember to hang around long-term because there will be ups and downs but trust the process and we will build some bankroll. Would love to know if you agree or disagree anywhere and let us know who you are riding with below. Enjoy the fights!
Full transparency, I run a MMA betting service called Provide Picks. We have been operating for roughly a year and a half completely tracked and verifiable with a return of over 90 units in that short time. You can find our full tracking sheet history here and you can also see a bunch of customer testimonials and betting slips throughout that time here.
Me myself, I have watched MMA religiously for more than 10 years and trained for over 4.5 years, I love this sport so I figured why not help bring some insight and analysis to others! Now this isn’t a sales pitch, I know how Reddit works and I really enjoy the opinions shared on this sub-reddit so I genuinely want to help contribute and if you enjoy the output, please feel free to join the team! We are proven to be profitable long-term so if you have some spare change to invest at any level, you love the sport and are interested in improving your knowledge - come over and check us out at providepicks.com. As we have a fair base of paying members, it wouldn’t be fair to them to share every single one of our bets however I want to provide as much value for this betting community as people, hopefully to help you guys see a different angle in terms of MMA betting and long-term profitability and more importantly - sending these bookies broke.
submitted by temptationaus to MMAbetting [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 01:17 Sparrowsabre7 Is this some kind of weird error or joke?

Is this some kind of weird error or joke?
I consider myself pretty well-versed in Beast Wars so I'm pretty sure there was no character called Beaty who appeared in every episode voice by a My Little Pony voice actor...
Going on her IMDB she's also down as playing Beatrice in Earthspark. I've not seen the show but Beatrice has no results on TFwiki so I assume also fictional. But the gag doesn't carry over to any other IMDB Transformers entries (assuming it is someone's idea of a joke).
submitted by Sparrowsabre7 to transformers [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 01:02 Smilefukr (Offer) Hereditary (A24) HD, The Bling Ring (A24) HD, Cut Bank (A24) HD, Mechanic Resurection HD, Super Troopers HD, Russell Madness HD, Love The Coopers HD, Knock Knock (2015) HD, Good Will Hunting HD, The Age Of Adaline HD, Heist HD, Philomena HD, Spy HD, Mortdecai HD + More (Request) Lists

Request/ISO Titles I'm Currently Looking For - The Super Mario Bros Movie, Renfield, Dungeons & Dragons, Batman: The Doom That Came To Gotham, Secret Headquarters & VUDU Credits.
Currently at 4,000+ titles so I do have a great amount of movies that are commonly available through redemption but I do encourage any & all offers. I apologize in advance to anyone I'm unable to make a trade with & as always thank you for taking time out to look at my list 🙂.
All iTunes titles marked with * will port to MA.
Also to those that may be new to uvtrade sub, All Google Play listed do port to Movies Anywhere/Vudu/iTunes if you connect your accounts accordingly. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
--All Codes Split Where Applicable--
2 Fast 2 FuriousHDMovies Anywhere
2Guns (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
2Guns* (Split)HDiTunes
The 5th WaveHDMovies Anywhere
12 Rounds 3: LockdownSDVUDU
21 Jump StreetHDMovies Anywhere
21 Jump StreetSDMovies Anywhere
22 Jump StreetHDMovies Anywhere
22 Jump StreetSDMovies Anywhere
47 Ronin (Split4KiTunes
47 Ronin (SplitHDMovies Anywhere
Act of ValorSDiTunes
Action PointHDiTunes
The Adjustment Bureau*HDiTunes
The Adventures of TinTin (Split)HDVUDU
The Adventures of TinTin (Split)HDiTunes
After EarthSDMovies Anywhere
After EarthHDMovies Anywhere
The Age of AdalineHDVUDU
Aladdin [1992 Disney Animation] (Split)HDGoogle Play
Aladdin [Live Action] (Split)HDGoogle Play
Alex CrossHDVUDU
Alexander & The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day* (Split)HDiTunes
Alexander & The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Split)HDGoogle Play
Alien: CovenantHDMovies Anywhere
Alien Covenant*4KiTunes
All The Money In The WorldSDMovies Anywhere
Alice in Wonderland [1951, Animated] (Split)HDGoogle Play
AlohaHDMovies Anywhere
AlohaSDMovies Anywhere
Alvin and the Chipmunks: ChipwreckedSDiTunes
Alvin & the Chipmunks: The Road Chip*4KiTunes
The Amazing Spider-Man 2HDMovies Anywhere
America: Imagine The World Without HerHDVUDU
American AssassinHDVUDU
American HustleSDMovies Anywhere
American Reunion (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
American Reunion* (Split)HDiTunes
Amsterdam (Split)HDGoogle Play
Anchorman 2 (Split)HDVUDU
Anchorman 2 (Split)HDiTunes
The Angry Birds MovieHDMovies Anywhere
Annie [2014]SDMovies Anywhere
Another Cinderella StoryHDMovies Anywhere
Antlers (Split)HDGoogle Play
Ant-Man* (Split)4KiTunes
Arrival4KiTunes
The ArtistSDMovies Anywhere
Assassin's Creed*4KiTunes
Avengers: Age of Ultron* (Split)4KiTunes
Avengers: Age of Ultron (Split)HDGoogle Play
Avengers: Infinity War (Split)4KiTunes
Avengers: Infinity War (Split)HDGoogle Play
AVP: Requiem*SDiTunes
Bad GrandpaHDiTunes
Bad Grandpa.5HDiTunes
Bad Moms* (Split)HDiTunes
Bambi (Split)HDGoogle Play
Barbie and Her Sisters in a Puppy Chase* (Split)HDiTunes
Barbie and Her Sisters in a Puppy Chase (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Barbie Spy Squad (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Battleship*4KiTunes
Beauty & the Beast [Live Action] (Split)HDGoogle Play
Ben Hur (2016)4KiTunes
Big Hero 6* (Split)4KiTunes
Big Hero 6 (Split)HDGoogle Play
Big Miracle* (Split)HDiTunes
Big Mommas: Like Father, Like SonSDiTunes
The Big Wedding (Split)HDVUDU
The Big Wedding (Split)HDiTunes
Black Panther (Split)HDGoogle Play
Black Swan*SDiTunes
Black Widow (Split)HDGoogle Play
The Bling Ring (A24)HDVUDU
The Bob's Burgers Movie (Split)HDGoogle Play
Book Club (Split)HDVUDU
Book Club (Split)HDiTunes
The Boss* (Split)HDiTunes
The Boss (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
The Bourne Legacy (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
The Bourne Legacy* (Split)4KiTunes
The Bourne Supremacy (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Boyhood (Split)HDVUDU
Boyhood (Split)HDiTunes
BraveSDiTunes
BridesmaidsHDiTunes
Bridge of Spies* (Split)HDGoogle Play
Brooklyn's FinestSDiTunes
Bumblebee (Split)4KiTunes
The ButlerHDVUDU
The Bye Bye Man (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
The Bye Bye Man* (Split)HDiTunes
Call of the Wild (Split)HDGoogle Play
Captain America: Civil War* (Split)4KiTunes
Captain America: Civil War (Split)HDGoogle Play
Captain Marvel (Split)HDGoogle Play
Captain PhillipsHDMovies Anywhere
Captain Underpants: The First Epic MovieHDMovies Anywhere
The Case For Christ (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Cedar Rapids*SDiTunes
Celebrating Mickey (Split)HDGoogle Play
The ChoiceHDVUDU
Cinderella [Live Action]* (Split)4KiTunes
Cinderella [Live Action] (Split)HDGoogle Play
Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2SDMovies Anywhere
Contraband*HDiTunes
Coco*4KiTunes
CocoHDGoogle Play
Cowboys & Aliens*HDiTunes
The Crazies (2010)SDiTunes
CriminalHDVUDU
The CroodsHDMovies Anywhere
Cruella (Split)HDGoogle Play
Cut Bank (A24)HDVUDU
Daddy's Home (Split)4KiTunes
Daddy's Home (Split)HDVUDU
Dallas Buyers Club* (Split)HDiTunes
Dallas Buyers Club (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Dawn of the Planet of the Apes4KiTunes
Dead Man DownSDMovies Anywhere
Deadwood Complete SeriesHDGoogle Play
The DescendantsSDiTunes
Deepwater Horizon4KiTunes
Despicable Me 2 (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Despicable Me 2* (Split)4KiTunes
The Devil InsideSDVUDU
Diary of a Wimpy KidHDMovies Anywhere
Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long HaulHDMovies Anywhere
The Dictator (Split)HDVUDU
The Dictator (Split)HDiTunes
Die Hard Collection 1-4SDMovies Anywhere
Divergent (Split)HDVUDU
Divergent (Split)4KiTunes
The Divergent Series: InsurgentHDVUDU
Django UnchainedHDVUDU
Doctor Strange (Split)HDGoogle Play
Dredd (Split)HDVUDU
Dredd (Split)4KVUDU
Due DateSDiTunes
The DuffHDVUDU
ElysiumSDMovies Anywhere
The Emoji MovieHDMovies Anywhere
Empire of Light (Split)HDGoogle Play
EpicHDMovies Anywhere
EpicSDiTunes
The EqualizerHDMovies Anywhere
Eternals (Split)HDGoogle Play
EverestHDMovies Anywhere
Ex Machina (A24)HDVUDU
The Expendables 2HDVUDU
The Expendables 34KVUDU
ExposedHDVUDU
ExtractionHDVUDU
The Eyes of Tammy Faye (Split)HDGoogle Play
Falling Skies: Season OneSDVUDU
Family Guy: Blue HarvestSDiTunes
Fast & Furious 6 Extended (Split)HDVUDU/Movies Anywhere
Fast & Furious 6 Extended* (Split)4KiTunes
The Fast & The Furious: Tokyo Drift* (Split)4KiTunes
The Fast & The Furious: Tokyo Drift (Split)HDVUDU/Movies Anywhere
Fatale4KVUDU
Fathers and DaughtersSDVUDU
The Fate Of The Furious [Extended Director's Cut]HDMovies Anywhere
The Fault in Our Stars*4KiTunes
Fifty Shades Of Grey [Unrated] (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Fifty Shades Of Grey [Unrated]* (Split)HDiTunes
The Fighter4KiTunes
Finding Dory* (Split)4KiTunes
Finding Dory (Split)HDGoogle Play
The Flash: Season OneHDVUDU
Florence Foster Jenkins (Split)HDVUDU
Florence Foster Jenkins (Split)HDiTunes
Footloose [2011] (Split)HDVUDU
Footloose [2011] (Split)HDiTunes
Frankenweenie [2012] (Split)HDGoogle Play
Frozen (Split)HDGoogle Play
Frozen* (Split)4KiTunes
Frozen "Sing Along Edition"* (Split)HDiTunes
Frozen "Sing Along Edition" (Split)HDGoogle Play
Frozen GroundHDVUDU
Furious 7 [Extended Version]* (Split)4KiTunes
Furious 7 [Extended Version] (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
FuryHDMovies Anywhere
Get Shorty: Season 1HDVUDU
Ghostbusters 'Theatrical + Extended' [2016]SDMovies Anywhere
The Girl On The TrainHDMovies Anywhere
Girls NightHDMovies Anywhere
The GiverHDVUDU
God's Not Dead 2 (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
God's Not Dead: A Light in DarknessHDMovies Anywhere
The Good Dinosaur (Split)HDGoogle Play
Good Will HuntingHDVUDU
GoosebumpsSDMovies Anywhere
GravityHDMovies Anywhere
The Great Gatsby [2013]HDMovies Anywhere
Green ZoneSDiTunes
The Grey (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
The Grey (Split)HDiTunes
Grown Ups 2SDMovies Anywhere
Guardians Of The Galaxy* (Split)4KiTunes
Guardians Of The Galaxy (Split)HDGoogle Play
Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 2 (Split)HDGoogle Play
The Guilt TripHDiTunes
Hacksaw Ridge (Split)HDVUDU
Hard Target 2HDMovies Anywhere
HaywireSDiTunes
The HeatHDMovies Anywhere
The HeatSDMovies Anywhere
Heaven is For RealSDMovies Anywhere
HeistHDVUDU
Hell or High Water (Split)HDVUDU
Hell or High Water (Split)4KiTunes
HellBoy II: The Golden Army* (Split)4KiTunes
Hell Fest4KVUDU
Hercules (2014)4KiTunes
Here Comes The BoomHDMovies Anywhere
Here Comes The BoomSDMovies Anywhere
Hereditary (A24)HDVUDU
Hidden Figures*4KiTunes
HitmanSDiTunes
Hitman Agent 47*4KiTunes
Hocus Pocus (Split)HDGoogle Play
A Hologram For a KingSDVUDU
Home (2015)HDMovies Anywhere
Home Alone*4KiTunes
Homefront (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Homefront* (Split)HDiTunes
Hop (Split)HDMovies Anywhere
Hop* (Split)HDiTunes
Hope SpringsSDMovies Anywhere
The Host*HDiTunes
Hotel TransylvaniaHDMovies Anywhere
Hotel TranslyvaniaSDMovies Anywhere
Hotel Translyvania 2SDMovies Anywhere
HugoSDVUDU
The HulkSDiTunes
The Hunger GamesHDVUDU
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (Split)HDVUDU
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Jack Reacher (Split)HDVUDU
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John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum4KVUDU
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Justice*HDiTunes
Katy Perry: Part Of Me (Split)SDVUDU
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The Kid Who Would Be KingHDMovies Anywhere
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Little Women [2019]SDMovies Anywhere
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Lone Survivor* (Split)4KiTunes
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Maleficent: Mistress of Evil (Split)HDGoogle Play
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Marley & Me*SDiTunes
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Thor*SDiTunes
Thor: Dark World (Split)HDGoogle Play
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submitted by Smilefukr to uvtrade [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 01:00 Round_Employment_247 [CHAT] How do I make a pattern that is circle shaped?

I am working on a project that is a bunch of small cats. The project design has each little cat in its own frame, but I want to combine these cats with the astrological signs from another pattern, to create one large pattern.
I want to lay out and space the cats (all different sizes and shapes) evenly across a larger circle frame, but I am struggling to figure out how I can lay everything out when all the pattern creators are square shaped. Sorry if this sounds dumb but my poor brain just can’t get around this one.
I want to be able to lay out my pattern but have the pattern maker be circle shaped instead of square. Are there any pattern makers that can do this? I looked on the reddits recommendations but it gives me a 404 error.
submitted by Round_Employment_247 to CrossStitch [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 00:55 Micshork Number Measuring Contest

Number Measuring Contest submitted by Micshork to lostpause [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 00:39 dlschindler [Murder Of Crows] S1E3 My Crow Speaks To The Mad

I sat in the parking lot of McDonald's feeding french fries to my talking crow. We were in the back of Detective Winters's car. He was having the large coffee that cost only a dollar. He had told me he liked it better than Starbuck's, as he took it black.
"Sergeant Ventura was a good cop." Detective Winters was talking about the policeman that had gotten killed at the crimescene.
"Did he have family?" I asked.
"He was divorced." Detective Winters sounded like he could cry for the dead man. "We were his family."
I ate my cheeseburger in silence. Cory hopped onto the fries and scattered them to the floor. He looked up at me without an apology for his behavior before he went to go eat some of them.
We were taken to a hotel where we became roommates with Detective Winters. The maid knocked on the door as I was taking off my boots. He answered it with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth that he had lit with hotel matches.
"What is it?" He asked her. I listened, genuinely curious.
"No animals." She pushed past him slightly and spotted Cory. Presumably, she would go get the hotel manager.
"It's okay, he is with me. I am a detective. I am solving murders." He told her, and showed her his badge with a well-rehearsed gesture. She gave him a very admonishing look and left without saying more. I wondered if our sleep would be interrupted. I was very tired and went right to bed.
In the morning the same maid was back, prompting me to wonder if she had worked all night. She glared at us as we left and she went in to clean.
Detective Winters took me to the station and made me sit around with him all day while he did paperwork. He had interviews with people and more paperwork. His job suddenly seemed very boring to me. I already longed to go outside and discover the world out there. I was his hostage because he knew I knew that I was his suspect in a murder.
"I want you investigating this. Looks like it might be the hitchhiker killer. If you can get some cooperation from you-know-who, maybe we can call the FBI on this one." The boss of Detective Winters walked over to his desk and gave him a thin file on a crime scene secured earlier.
"Let's go." Detective Winters got up and I followed.
"Who was he talking about?" I asked.
"A possible serial killer. I know a guy who knows a lot more than he is telling us. First we need to go see the crime scene. Forensics is already there so you will have to wait outside." Detective Winters was talking fast. He was excited about this for some reason.
"You know this serial killer?"
"Yes. If it is the same one then we've had several killings already. I will need to go see our friend. Then we call the FBI." Detective Winters explained.
"Is that how it's done?" I asked.
"It is how we are gonna do this. You wouldn't understand." He started his car and we left.
"You like it when people say 'you wouldn't understand' to you?" I asked after awhile.
"Not really. Sorry. I just don't like feeling like I am explaining myself to someone." Detective Winters gave me some kind of crude apology for the way he had spoken to me.
"Well, I don't really like listening to you anyway." I offered. After that we just drove in silence. After we arrived at the crime scene, Cory went to the floor of the back seat to feed on the drying fries left there. Detective Winters asked someone he was passing for their cigarette, took it, and smoked it, as he walked away. We were left there alone in his car.
I was tempted to just get out and walk away. I felt that it would be dishonorable. Therefore I stayed, out of a sense that I was doing the right thing.
"What a mess." Detective Winters came back after awhile. He fished a half smoked butt out of his ashtray and lit it with the car's lighter. Then he rolled down the window to exhale smoke as we drove away.
We arrived at a small trailer where a column of smoke arose from out back. Detective Winters said: "Come with me."
The man was just throwing the last papers and files out of an empty banker's box and tossed it aside where several others sat empty.
"Daniel Barrow." Detective Winters spoke so he would turn around. The man gestured at the destructive act he had committed and shrugged and smiled.
"What can I say?" Daniel Barrow asked. "I don't work for you. I am a private eye. You know, an investigator-for-hire."
"I could arrest you for destruction of evidence." Detective Winters told the private eye.
"Then do so. I am merely destroying my own pictures and notes. Personal property." Daniel insisted.
Then we left him there, smoke trailing away with bits of white ash in his hair.
"What a dick..." Detective Winters used a bad pun.
I chuckled and replied: "He seemed crazy."
Something dawned and Detective Winters held his hand up at me for a second while he thought. Then he lowered it and brightly added:
"Dellfriar Asylum." Detective Winters decided.
"Where crazy people are?" I tried to follow his jump to a conclusion. I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Where Doctor Evans was killed. That is how I met our friend for the first time. He was caught snooping around that crime scene too." Detective Winters recalled.
I said nothing as we drove to Dellfriar and gained access to the ancient and fearsome looking seaside castle. It was still medieval compared to other mental hospitals. I had only seen it in pictures, but now the place creeped me out.
"What are we doing here?" I asked. "If Doctor Evans was killed by the same person Daniel Barrow would have told you about: then you already know who it is."
"You are right." He stared up at the terrifying structure. "Jesse Darling. She was a patient here. We have a copy of her file. You are right. There is something more I wanted to see again."
"I'd rather wait here." I told him. He nodded and left us in the parking lot.
When he came back he looked disappointed. We drove back to the hotel in silence. The next day he met with the FBI and told them what he knew, about a serial killer named Jesse Darling.
Then he found me and told me: "Her name is Scarlet. She was friends with Daniel Barrow. He visited her often."
"Now that you have completed that path, why not try another?" I asked him.
"Scarlet is who we should be looking for." Detective Winters agreed. "We will never find Jesse Darling."
"Then let's start at the beginning." I advised him. And so we drove back to the crime scene we were at before.
His decision was to drive along the highway from there, heading away from Dellfriar. Detective Winters said:
"I think she has killed six men and she tried to kill Daniel Barrow. He survived."
As it grew dark a light rain began to fall. The sound of the windshield wipers kept going. My hand began to ache. Up ahead stood someone in a red hoody, hitchhiking with their left thumb. We pulled over.
"Must go now." Cory cawed.
"Sounds anxious." Detective Winters noted.
"He is saying we must leave." I translated. "He gets jittery."
"He got a name?"
"Cory." I took my crow to my lap and gently held him while the back passenger door opened. I looked over at the dark shape in the red hoody. Lightning flashed behind her before she got in to sit with me in the back.
I could feel the damp cold air coming off of her hoody as she seated herself. She was young, although her face was kinda mean looking. As she spoke, she gestured with her left hand, her right never appearing. She said:
"I was walking and this rain started. I just need a lift into town." And she tried a fake little laugh and smile.
"We can give you a lift." Detective Winters offered. We started back onto the highway and she reached up with her left hand and got her seatbelt on.
"The hand is silver and it can cut like a knife. Maker of dead men, from living ones. She actually likes doing it, you could learn from her." Cory told me about our guest.
"Your bird talks." She smiled. This smile looked real, but still predatory.
"If you call that talking." Detective Winters chuckled with a masculine disregard.
"I don't know." I stammered. I was frozen in fear. This was surely our hook-hand hitchhiker. She was definitely Scarlet. I could imagine her weapon striking away half my neck in one instant swipe, out of nowhere. She'd kill the detective next. Only she was wearing a seatbelt: so our corpses would get ejected into the darkness. She'd stay belted to her seat.
"I can understand him." She smiled coyly.
"You can?" I was choking. Sweat beaded my forehead and terror gripped my heart.
"He says I am pretty and sweet and that you already like me." She sighed.
"He said that." I breathed mechanically.
We pulled into a gas station. Scarlet stayed seated, smiling endlessly at me, her eyes shiny like glass. I had to pee yet couldn't move. I was afraid that if I tried to get out: she would slaughter me.
Detective Winters took his time filling gas, making a long phone call, buying cigarettes and smoking about half the pack. I was in agony: it was either pee myself and probably trigger her killing me, or get out and die trying.
"I really have to pee. Is it okay if I go and go pee?" I squeaked.
"Sure. Come right back." She was still smiling like a golden devil at me. I crept away from her and shut the door. Cory was on my shoulder as we obtained the key, attached to a real goat's leg, hoof and all. I went into the bathroom and peed.
As we came out with the goat leg in one hand, zipping up with the other, the parking lot lit up. Police cars swarmed from all around, surrounding Detective Winters's car. I watched while armored SWAT had to drag Scarlet from the vehicle.
Scarlet managed to slash them anyway, drawing blood from three of them. Her hidden prosthetic arm was indeed like a sharp pair of hooks. She whipped out a knife and got one of them in the groin. Blood spurted from his wound and he staggered and fell over.
Finally, they had her restrained and arrested. I went into the gas station to return the goat's leg bathroom key. Detective Winters came into the gas station behind me and selected a lighter to buy. It was with a bunch of lighters with tattoo art on them. His had a little red riding hood, looking scared, and standing in front of a wolf's eyes.
"You're still alive." He told me and flicked his lighter's flame in front of me before he went back out to the car.
"Death will always happen." Cory agreed with him.
I just sighed and tossed the goat's leg onto the counter.
submitted by dlschindler to redditserials [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 00:32 durzanult [BotW] I bought BotW and want to play it, but keep losing interest during the tutorial...

Alright, so here's the deal. I've been wanting to do a full playthrough of a Zelda game for a long while now, but never really had the opportunity to do so until recently. I only had a PS2 growing up, and when I got to college I prioritized getting a PS4 over any other console, so I only had a few brief chances to play LoZ when either a friend or a roommate let me play for a few minutes or a couple hours. The furthest I've gotten in any game was the second dungeon of Ocarina of Time, the one where you fight that salamander thing as child!Link in fire mountain... but hell, I actually really enjoyed it, even if it felt a bit clunky here and there (due to being an older game).
So when I heard how great Breath of the Wild was, and how much of a game changer it was, it naturally went on my backlog of games I want to play. So when I FINALLY get a switch, BotW was one of the first games I buy/download. Here I was, excited to REALLY play a Zelda game and enjoy this series that I had been low-key fascinated with off and on since I was like six years old. I boot up the game, and begin playing... only to die over and over again of times just trying to get to the four towers and dungeons on the plateau where you start. The old man who wants to give you the paraglider is a bit of an annoying jerk that rubs me the wrong way, the robots snipe me when I'm just trying to find the quickest way from point A to point B, and my damn weapons keep breaking before I have a chance to really get used to them or do so right in the middle of combat when I have little or no other tools to replace them with, the environmental affects that require proper clothing are annoying (the number of times I died just trying to cross or work my way around that lake up in the freezing mountain area... grrrrrr!), etc. I've tried picking it back up every so often, only for me to stare at the screen and not even move my character, lose interest 5 minutes into my intended play session, and/or rage quit due to too many deaths or something annoying me just enough to go do something else. I REALLY want to like this game and enjoy it but at this point... I feel like it's, at best, a meh experience at best and can't bring myself to actually work my way through it. Its just not fun...
For context, I have ADHD and so its not uncommon for me to both become randomly and stubbornly engrossed in playing one single game for hours/weeks on end, and just drop one game randomly in favor of another game that I suddenly just randomly desire to play five minutes into a gaming session. It's also common for me to go days or weeks not playing anything, then splurge for weeks playing on my consoles. I don't mind open world games or platforming. I've EATEN up Days Gone, God of War, and the one Assassin's Creed game I actually played. I LOVE story games, as I've played the hell out of the first Last of Us. I ate up Sonic games when I was younger and still enjoy playing Sonic 3 and Knuckles. Strategy games? Played StarCraft II for half my life at this point, despite how rage inducing it can be. FPS? I'll play a casual game of Halo (if my buddy owns it and is willing to do multiplayer), or CoD Zombies despite the fact that I suck at them. Arcade games? Pacman and Tetris can keep me occupied for a good hour if I'm in the right mood, and Shotgun King: The Final Checkmate is literally the game I play the most on my laptop currently. As far as Nintendo games, I've regularly played Animal Crossing and Pokemon Shining Pearl the most (and Pokemon barely interested me until recently. What is wrong with me. !!!), with the occasional short dabble into Super Mario Maker 2 or Super Smash Bros Brawl in small doses.
I've stubbornly persisted with games that have annoying mechanics, or things that I "hate" before, and still ended up enjoying myself to some extent. Hell, the damn fairy in OoT is damn irritating as hell, arguably mores than old man paraglider. So why the is it that this particular Zelda game is so off-putting to me?
submitted by durzanult to zelda [link] [comments]