Millers boots and shoes butte mt
Worms attack college dorm
2023.03.22 23:38 GoldieSama Worms attack college dorm
So it rained a couple weeks ago at my college. I wore my rain boots, but apparently everyone else in my dorm decided it was a nice day for tennis shoes for some reason?? As you may imagine, most of the people on my floor had wet tennis shoes. So somebody left theirs against the wall in the hallway, next to their door. This quickly became a trend and soon there were wet shoes lining the hallway. At 3 am, I decided I had to do something about this. I left my dorm and went down the hallway placing a worm on a string in every single shoe. The next day, all the shoes had been brought in, and nobody said a word about the shoe worms. I do hope it made some of them laugh tho
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2023.03.22 23:03 toastymctoast10 New World Hope Ch 27: Just in time to be too late
February 7th, NCR, Tahoe Town
6:30 am
Frank rang the street phone again. He needed to talk to Hector badly, he usually got to work at this time so he should be answering, he checked the street. It was pitch black he was safe for now, Wendy sat next to him keeping watch. As the phone rang one more time he sighed then took the phone from his ear about to set it back in the line.
"Hello?"
Hearing the voice Frank quickly brought the phone up to his mouth.
"Hector it's me."
"FRANK!..."
The phone went silent then Hector began again whispering.
"Where the hell are you!? And what the hell did you do?! There are rangers after you, they turned my shop upside down, they even took my pip-players."
"Look it doesn't matter, I'm on my way to New Canaan can you send my stuff to the drop box?"
"I'm not finished but I can when I'm done. Should get there in like a week or two."
"Alright thank you, just wash off the NCR stuff."
"Got it...so how's my rifle."
Frank went silent.
"Frank...."
"I lost the barrel and stock."
"God dammit you bastard, I let you borrow it and you can't even-"
"I was being shot at I'm sorry okay."
"I should lose your stuff."
"Hector..come on just send the shit."
"Fine.."
Frank hung up the phone and turned to Wendy.
"Okay let's go."
*March 11th, 2291 New Canaan *
Wendy woke up and looked around the room, empty. She got up with a sigh and changed. When she finished she go out of the room and made her way downstairs. Tina, James's wife was cooking breakfast.
"Oh, Wendy you're up. I was gonna send Micheal to get you."
"Yeah sorry I slept in a little bit...haven't been on a bed in a while, what time is it?
"Little over 8...James is getting your caravan ready."
"And Frank?"
"Oh, I didn't know he was here. I haven't seen him sorry."
"Oh....it's fine"
Wendy sat at the table as Tina set the plates down on by one for the kids. Isabel turned to Wendy and began talking.
"So where are you going?"
"Oklahoma. Your dad said he could help us out."
"James."
"What?"
"James is my stepdad. My dad died."
"Isabel!"
Mrs. Richter scolded her daughter.
"What it's true he's not my dad."
"Well, he's trying to be."
Mrs. Richter shook her head and then got back to the stove as they continued.
"What happened to your dad?"
"He died during an attack by super mutants about 7 years ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's alright...he was a hero, saved the city by holding them off. I still miss him but I know I'll see him again one day. So what about your dad?"
"Oh...I never met him...and my mom died when I was young."
"Oh...so what about Frank? You said he takes care of you right? So he's kinda like your dad right?"
"Well not really. I'm just cargo to him, just wants to get me from point A to point B."
"Oh, thats rud- MICHEAL STOP TOUCHING MY BOOKS!"
Wendy turned around to see a grubby little 6-year-old reading a book with greasy yolk-covered fingers.
"But I want to read!"
"READ YOUR BOOKS!"
Defiant the boy continued to read the book.
"I hate him so much...do you have siblings?"
"I do not...would be nice though."
"Trust me, you get tired of them fast."
The two girls talked and laughed their way through breakfast and it wasn't long before James returned.
"Hello, family..."
"Oh, you're back."
Tina approached her husband and gave him a smooch.
"Eggs are still hot if you want some."
"No can do."
James walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of brahmin milk before turning to Wendy.
"You ready?"
"Oh...yeah just gotta grab my bag."
"Okay well make it quick time is of the essence."
Wendy got up and grabbed her bag as she said bye to the Richters she walked out the door as James walked behind her.
"So where to?"
"The office building, cargo is in the back."
James's demeanor changed as he dropped the honest working man act.
"Listen I'm sorry about Frank, he should've said good-"
"It's fine...just get me from point A to B."
"I mean it...you of all people shouldn't have."
"Look it's fine James."
"Yeah..."
"So what's it like having two names?"
"Not that hard honestly. Everyone knows me as James so I just respond to that, I hear Oliver occasionally and I instinctively respond but not often."
"I don't think I could do it honestly, I barely know my own I'd probably rat myself out like that."
"So how come you have a gun, thought you could shoot electricity from your hands like some sort of wizard?"
"I can but it's exhausting."
"How tiring can it be?"
"Have you ever fired electricity from your hands?"
"No."
"Exactly, use to knock me out all the time before Sarah found a way to help."
As the two talked they soon turned the corner and found the building.
"Alright head to the back...I'm just going to fill out some paperwork to authorize the traveling."
"You have to do the paperwork to travel?"
"Yep...wonders of society."
James opened the door and made his way to the lobby stairs as Wendy split off and walked towards the garage doors.
The secretary waved at her as pushed her way through the doors into the garage. She looked around, there were some cars but there seemed to be slepnier more than anything, the giant mutant horses looked at her and neighed as she approached them.
"Hello there...you guys are amazing. So big and strong...think James will let me keep one of you?"
Wendy laughed to herself as she looked around the room, as she did she noticed a shoe sticking out from behind a barrel. As she approached she saw a leg, then a pelvis. And finally, she realized what she saw. A man lay dismembered in a pool of his blood, she yelped and slipped falling to the floor. As she did she heard the doors open behind her.
"Alright I got the paperwork....what are you doing on the floor?"
"Body!"
"What?"
Wendy pointed towards the corpse in front of her.
James walked towards her and then began to sprint upon seeing the foot.
"No, no, no, no! Fuck!"
James walked over to the bloody corpse and examined it.
"They got Edward. Okay, listen we need to go now."
Wendy slowly got up and walked over to James who was tidying up the body.
"Looks like a guy with a machete cut him to pieces, he didn't see it coming."
Wendy peered over James' shoulder to examine the body. As the two looked a group of barrels knocked over behind them and the two jumped. James drew his 1911 pistol.
"Who is it?!"
"Boss it's me...God dammit."
"Ryan!"
James ran over to the man who clutched his side. James helped him to a chair and propped him up.
"What happened?"
"You need to get out of here they'll be back."
"Who?"
"Those bastards...from the church...they snuck in here, stabbed us in the back....literally....left me alive.....said they....want to chat..."
"Where are they?"
"They're on there...."
Ryan's eyes drooped and his body went limp.
"Ryan. Ryan! Where are they going?!"
James shook the limp body over and over yelling for an answer.
"I got to go."
"What?"
"Stay here."
"Where are you going?"
"I need to protect my family."
"How do you know they're heading to your house?"
"I don't but I need to protect them if they are."
"What about me?!"
"Just...stay here....you have your shotgun and so just use it if anyone comes."
James ran out the door the travel papers scattered across the floor.
Wendy unslung her shotgun and racked a shell. She stood in the room looking around heart racing, she was alone again. She was vulnerable and afraid. After what felt like an entirety she heard a noise coming from the lobby.
"Where is she?!"
"Where is who?"
BANG
"Find her and kill her!"
Wendy ran into an upper-side office and locked the door, she kept her head down as she looked through the small office window into the rest of the garage as armed men walked around holding rifles.
"Brother Ezekiel weren't we just here?"
"Yes. Dorkins believed she would come through here however so keep your eyes peeled."
Wendy kept her head down as the men continued to walk around. Eventually one made their way to where Ryan's limp body sat.
"Body!"
Two more men ran into the room.
"Shit there's more of them."
Wendy gritted her teeth as she watched.
"It's the one I stabbed. Someone moved him."
"Find them now!"
Wendy ducked down and held her shotgun tightly as she heard the footsteps grow closer.
"Keep your eyes peeled they could still be around here!"
"Think it's her?"
"Could be."
"Why isn't Dorkins with us?"
"What do you mean?"
"Couldn't he just persuade her to come with us?"
"She's far too powerful..."
"It'd do nothing?"
"Exactly. And also the other plan is in motion."
Wendy slung her shotgun over her shoulder and began to crawl by the desk. As she did her foot tangled around a wire and pulled a radio to the ground.
AND THIS IS NEW CANAAN RADIO BRINGING YOU YOUR FAVORITE SONGS! HERE'S HANK WILLIAMS WITH MOVE IT ON OVER!"
"Up there!"
Wendy untangled the wire from her foot and then unslung the shotgun, she stood up and fired at the first person she spotted. The gun recoiled as the shell plowed through the weak plane of glass sending sharp shards of it toward the first man along with pellets. The man fell dead as the room erupted into gunfire.
"Zachary!"
Wendy racked another shell and fired at another man, the man ducked behind a stable as the pellets smashed into the weak wood. The slepnier thrashed and screamed as bullets and debris filled their once quiet room.
Wendy ducked down as gunfire poured up into the small office. She racked another shell as the door to the office was slashed open by a man wielding a machete. She turned the gun quickly and fired at the man hitting him center mass through the door.
"John!"
Wendy racked another shell and then stood firing down in the general direction of her attackers.
Click
She ducked down and checked her pockets.
"Shit, shit, I'm out!"
"Push up!"
"She's out of ammo!"
Wendy took her backpack off and pulled out her 9mm, she took the safety off and aimed toward the door. A man peeked through the hole in the door and she fired three times, the man ducked down and fired a burst through the door.
"She's up here!"
The footsteps grew louder and louder as more and more boots thudded on the garage pavement and metal frame stairs as they made their way up towards her. Wendy's life flashed before her eyes as she fired round after round through the door. Some landed others missed but soon she was out.
"Fuck. The radio continued to play as men piled up the stairs. She pointed at the radio and a steak of electricity poured from her finger destroying it.
Wait that's it.
Wendy stood up and readied herself. The door was practically all gone and if she was right they were all bunched up. She could simply fry them all and, a grenade flew through the hole.
She dove back behind the metal desk as the grenade exploded.
"PUSH UP!"
Wendy looked back up as she saw the point of a barrel and then the attacker. Everything in life hit her at once as the rifle was pointed at her.
Tiink
The man was slammed against the stairs and pinned to the wall.
"BEHIND U-"
A sharp boom filled the air as did more gunfire. After a brief exchange the room went quiet, Wendy stood up and slowly walked towards the door. As she opened the now almost-gone door she spotted a cloaked figure beating one of the attackers.
She looked down the stairs past bodies with limbs blown clean off and some even pinned to the wall and stairs.
"Why are you after her?!"
"Go to hell!"
The figure punched the man again.
"I'll send you there first to set up the table! Now answer the question!"
"Fuck you!"
tiink
The figure stood up and looked up the stairs, a dark green helmet with crimson red eyes. Wendy took a step back and then sighed in relief as she recognized the person, the metal hand sticking out of the duster gave it away.
Wendy ran down the stairs throwing herself at Frank
"YOU BASTARD!"
She hugged the blood-soaked ranger who took off his helmet. Frank set the helmet on the floor as he knelt at her level.
"You okay?"
"I thought you left?!"
"I changed my mind."
She buried her face into the black duster as Frank hugged her back. He pushed her back and unclasped the metal gear around him.
"Put it on."
"What is it?"
"My armor...look I'm sorry for being a dick yesterday. But we can talk later we need to go now."
He fastened the armor before putting his helmet back on and standing
"What about James?"
Frank walked over to one of the stables and took a slepnier, he threw a saddle on it and turned to Wendy.
"I don't know. Now we got to go this city is a war zone."
"What happened?"
"I'm not sure but it's hell out there and we need to go."
Frank helped Wendy onto the mount and then took the reins. The mount buckled for a moment but Frank got it under control as he led it toward the big door at the end of the garage. Frank picked up a rifle from one of the dead men and handed it to Wendy along with ammo.
"In here!"
Frank turned and drew a revolver, he cocked the hammer and fired at the man who charged through the double doors. As the man fell Frank turned back around and threw the garage doors open, he mounted the horse and set it into motion starting with a slow trot. Another man ran through the doors and Frank fired at him as the trot became a full sprint down the cement street.
"We need to find James!"
"There's no time."
"It's the least we can do."
Frank sighed as he turned the mount to the left and tore through an alley, the 8-legged creature thundered through the city as gunfire rang out everywhere. As they approached the street an inferno raged, Frank slowed the mount down as they stood in front of the Richter's home.
"What happened?"
Frank dismounted from the mount and approached them, it was the Richters, James family dead. "Someone executed them, .45 ACP, had them on their knees."
"Why?"
"I don't know...but Oliver isn't here."
As Frank examined the bodies he heard a small sob and saw James, a now broken man with a gun in his hand by a barren tree.
"You!"
He stood up and walked towards Frank as he pointed the gun at Wendy.
"Whoa easy, Oliver...set the gun down."
"This is all your fault...this is all on you!"
"Easy now look this is on nobody...just put the gun down."
"No!"
"Then just...gun on me.. okay not her. Me."
Oliver turned the gun and aimed at Frank.
"They did this cause of her! They did all of this cause of her! You brought her here!"
"Oliver...come on...I wasn't trying to have this happen put the gun down, we can talk this through."
Wendy looked at Oliver his hands and shirt caked in blood
"Oliver..come on man. Look we can talk this through."
"He made me......I saw everything...."
"Who did?"
"He wanted her.....he wanted her dead....."
"Oliver...don't."
Oliver moved his arm and in that split second, Frank drew and fired his revolver into Oliver. Wendy let out a horrified groan as he fell back dead the pistol going off as it hit the ground.
"God dammit!"
Frank knelt by his old friends corpse and cleaned it up before picking him up and bringing him to rest with his family. As New Canaan burned Frank turned back towards Wendy and got back onto the horse.
"Let's go...."
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6:30 am
Frank rang the street phone again. He needed to talk to Hector badly, he usually got to work at this time so he should be answering, he checked the street. It was pitch black he was safe for now, Wendy sat next to him keeping watch. As the phone rang one more time he sighed then took the phone from his ear about to set it back in the line.
"Hello?"
Hearing the voice Frank quickly brought the phone up to his mouth.
"Hector it's me."
"FRANK!..."
The phone went silent then Hector began again whispering.
"Where the hell are you!? And what the hell did you do?! There are rangers after you, they turned my shop upside down, they even took my pip-players."
"Look it doesn't matter, I'm on my way to New Canaan can you send my stuff to the drop box?"
"I'm not finished but I can when I'm done. Should get there in like a week or two."
"Alright thank you, just wash off the NCR stuff."
"Got it...so how's my rifle."
Frank went silent.
"Frank...."
"I lost the barrel and stock."
"God dammit you bastard, I let you borrow it and you can't even-"
"I was being shot at I'm sorry okay."
"I should lose your stuff."
"Hector..come on just send the shit."
"Fine.."
Frank hung up the phone and turned to Wendy.
"Okay let's go."
*March 11th, 2291 New Canaan *
Wendy woke up and looked around the room, empty. She got up with a sigh and changed. When she finished she go out of the room and made her way downstairs. Tina, James's wife was cooking breakfast.
"Oh, Wendy you're up. I was gonna send Micheal to get you."
"Yeah sorry I slept in a little bit...haven't been on a bed in a while, what time is it?
"Little over 8...James is getting your caravan ready."
"And Frank?"
"Oh, I didn't know he was here. I haven't seen him sorry."
"Oh....it's fine"
Wendy sat at the table as Tina set the plates down on by one for the kids. Isabel turned to Wendy and began talking.
"So where are you going?"
"Oklahoma. Your dad said he could help us out."
"James."
"What?"
"James is my stepdad. My dad died."
"Isabel!"
Mrs. Richter scolded her daughter.
"What it's true he's not my dad."
"Well, he's trying to be."
Mrs. Richter shook her head and then got back to the stove as they continued.
"What happened to your dad?"
"He died during an attack by super mutants about 7 years ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's alright...he was a hero, saved the city by holding them off. I still miss him but I know I'll see him again one day. So what about your dad?"
"Oh...I never met him...and my mom died when I was young."
"Oh...so what about Frank? You said he takes care of you right? So he's kinda like your dad right?"
"Well not really. I'm just cargo to him, just wants to get me from point A to point B."
"Oh, thats rud- MICHEAL STOP TOUCHING MY BOOKS!"
Wendy turned around to see a grubby little 6-year-old reading a book with greasy yolk-covered fingers.
"But I want to read!"
"READ YOUR BOOKS!"
Defiant the boy continued to read the book.
"I hate him so much...do you have siblings?"
"I do not...would be nice though."
"Trust me, you get tired of them fast."
The two girls talked and laughed their way through breakfast and it wasn't long before James returned.
"Hello, family..."
"Oh, you're back."
Tina approached her husband and gave him a smooch.
"Eggs are still hot if you want some."
"No can do."
James walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of brahmin milk before turning to Wendy.
"You ready?"
"Oh...yeah just gotta grab my bag."
"Okay well make it quick time is of the essence."
Wendy got up and grabbed her bag as she said bye to the Richters she walked out the door as James walked behind her.
"So where to?"
"The office building, cargo is in the back."
James's demeanor changed as he dropped the honest working man act.
"Listen I'm sorry about Frank, he should've said good-"
"It's fine...just get me from point A to B."
"I mean it...you of all people shouldn't have."
"Look it's fine James."
"Yeah..."
"So what's it like having two names?"
"Not that hard honestly. Everyone knows me as James so I just respond to that, I hear Oliver occasionally and I instinctively respond but not often."
"I don't think I could do it honestly, I barely know my own I'd probably rat myself out like that."
"So how come you have a gun, thought you could shoot electricity from your hands like some sort of wizard?"
"I can but it's exhausting."
"How tiring can it be?"
"Have you ever fired electricity from your hands?"
"No."
"Exactly, use to knock me out all the time before Sarah found a way to help."
As the two talked they soon turned the corner and found the building.
"Alright head to the back...I'm just going to fill out some paperwork to authorize the traveling."
"You have to do the paperwork to travel?"
"Yep...wonders of society."
James opened the door and made his way to the lobby stairs as Wendy split off and walked towards the garage doors.
The secretary waved at her as pushed her way through the doors into the garage. She looked around, there were some cars but there seemed to be slepnier more than anything, the giant mutant horses looked at her and neighed as she approached them.
"Hello there...you guys are amazing. So big and strong...think James will let me keep one of you?"
Wendy laughed to herself as she looked around the room, as she did she noticed a shoe sticking out from behind a barrel. As she approached she saw a leg, then a pelvis. And finally, she realized what she saw. A man lay dismembered in a pool of his blood, she yelped and slipped falling to the floor. As she did she heard the doors open behind her.
"Alright I got the paperwork....what are you doing on the floor?"
"Body!"
"What?"
Wendy pointed towards the corpse in front of her.
James walked towards her and then began to sprint upon seeing the foot.
"No, no, no, no! Fuck!"
James walked over to the bloody corpse and examined it.
"They got Edward. Okay, listen we need to go now."
Wendy slowly got up and walked over to James who was tidying up the body.
"Looks like a guy with a machete cut him to pieces, he didn't see it coming."
Wendy peered over James' shoulder to examine the body. As the two looked a group of barrels knocked over behind them and the two jumped. James drew his 1911 pistol.
"Who is it?!"
"Boss it's me...God dammit."
"Ryan!"
James ran over to the man who clutched his side. James helped him to a chair and propped him up.
"What happened?"
"You need to get out of here they'll be back."
"Who?"
"Those bastards...from the church...they snuck in here, stabbed us in the back....literally....left me alive.....said they....want to chat..."
"Where are they?"
"They're on there...."
Ryan's eyes drooped and his body went limp.
"Ryan. Ryan! Where are they going?!"
James shook the limp body over and over yelling for an answer.
"I got to go."
"What?"
"Stay here."
"Where are you going?"
"I need to protect my family."
"How do you know they're heading to your house?"
"I don't but I need to protect them if they are."
"What about me?!"
"Just...stay here....you have your shotgun and so just use it if anyone comes."
James ran out the door the travel papers scattered across the floor.
Wendy unslung her shotgun and racked a shell. She stood in the room looking around heart racing, she was alone again. She was vulnerable and afraid. After what felt like an entirety she heard a noise coming from the lobby.
"Where is she?!"
"Where is who?"
BANG
"Find her and kill her!"
Wendy ran into an upper-side office and locked the door, she kept her head down as she looked through the small office window into the rest of the garage as armed men walked around holding rifles.
"Brother Ezekiel weren't we just here?"
"Yes. Dorkins believed she would come through here however so keep your eyes peeled."
Wendy kept her head down as the men continued to walk around. Eventually one made their way to where Ryan's limp body sat.
"Body!"
Two more men ran into the room.
"Shit there's more of them."
Wendy gritted her teeth as she watched.
"It's the one I stabbed. Someone moved him."
"Find them now!"
Wendy ducked down and held her shotgun tightly as she heard the footsteps grow closer.
"Keep your eyes peeled they could still be around here!"
"Think it's her?"
"Could be."
"Why isn't Dorkins with us?"
"What do you mean?"
"Couldn't he just persuade her to come with us?"
"She's far too powerful..."
"It'd do nothing?"
"Exactly. And also the other plan is in motion."
Wendy slung her shotgun over her shoulder and began to crawl by the desk. As she did her foot tangled around a wire and pulled a radio to the ground.
AND THIS IS NEW CANAAN RADIO BRINGING YOU YOUR FAVORITE SONGS! HERE'S HANK WILLIAMS WITH MOVE IT ON OVER!"
"Up there!"
Wendy untangled the wire from her foot and then unslung the shotgun, she stood up and fired at the first person she spotted. The gun recoiled as the shell plowed through the weak plane of glass sending sharp shards of it toward the first man along with pellets. The man fell dead as the room erupted into gunfire.
"Zachary!"
Wendy racked another shell and fired at another man, the man ducked behind a stable as the pellets smashed into the weak wood. The slepnier thrashed and screamed as bullets and debris filled their once quiet room.
Wendy ducked down as gunfire poured up into the small office. She racked another shell as the door to the office was slashed open by a man wielding a machete. She turned the gun quickly and fired at the man hitting him center mass through the door.
"John!"
Wendy racked another shell and then stood firing down in the general direction of her attackers.
Click
She ducked down and checked her pockets.
"Shit, shit, I'm out!"
"Push up!"
"She's out of ammo!"
Wendy took her backpack off and pulled out her 9mm, she took the safety off and aimed toward the door. A man peeked through the hole in the door and she fired three times, the man ducked down and fired a burst through the door.
"She's up here!"
The footsteps grew louder and louder as more and more boots thudded on the garage pavement and metal frame stairs as they made their way up towards her. Wendy's life flashed before her eyes as she fired round after round through the door. Some landed others missed but soon she was out.
"Fuck. The radio continued to play as men piled up the stairs. She pointed at the radio and a steak of electricity poured from her finger destroying it.
Wait that's it.
Wendy stood up and readied herself. The door was practically all gone and if she was right they were all bunched up. She could simply fry them all and, a grenade flew through the hole.
She dove back behind the metal desk as the grenade exploded.
"PUSH UP!"
Wendy looked back up as she saw the point of a barrel and then the attacker. Everything in life hit her at once as the rifle was pointed at her.
Tiink
The man was slammed against the stairs and pinned to the wall.
"BEHIND U-"
A sharp boom filled the air as did more gunfire. After a brief exchange the room went quiet, Wendy stood up and slowly walked towards the door. As she opened the now almost-gone door she spotted a cloaked figure beating one of the attackers.
She looked down the stairs past bodies with limbs blown clean off and some even pinned to the wall and stairs.
"Why are you after her?!"
"Go to hell!"
The figure punched the man again.
"I'll send you there first to set up the table! Now answer the question!"
"Fuck you!"
tiink
The figure stood up and looked up the stairs, a dark green helmet with crimson red eyes. Wendy took a step back and then sighed in relief as she recognized the person, the metal hand sticking out of the duster gave it away.
Wendy ran down the stairs throwing herself at Frank
"YOU BASTARD!"
She hugged the blood-soaked ranger who took off his helmet. Frank set the helmet on the floor as he knelt at her level.
"You okay?"
"I thought you left?!"
"I changed my mind."
She buried her face into the black duster as Frank hugged her back. He pushed her back and unclasped the metal gear around him.
"Put it on."
"What is it?"
"My armor...look I'm sorry for being a dick yesterday. But we can talk later we need to go now."
He fastened the armor before putting his helmet back on and standing
"What about James?"
Frank walked over to one of the stables and took a slepnier, he threw a saddle on it and turned to Wendy.
"I don't know. Now we got to go this city is a war zone."
"What happened?"
"I'm not sure but it's hell out there and we need to go."
Frank helped Wendy onto the mount and then took the reins. The mount buckled for a moment but Frank got it under control as he led it toward the big door at the end of the garage. Frank picked up a rifle from one of the dead men and handed it to Wendy along with ammo.
"In here!"
Frank turned and drew a revolver, he cocked the hammer and fired at the man who charged through the double doors. As the man fell Frank turned back around and threw the garage doors open, he mounted the horse and set it into motion starting with a slow trot. Another man ran through the doors and Frank fired at him as the trot became a full sprint down the cement street.
"We need to find James!"
"There's no time."
"It's the least we can do."
Frank sighed as he turned the mount to the left and tore through an alley, the 8-legged creature thundered through the city as gunfire rang out everywhere. As they approached the street an inferno raged, Frank slowed the mount down as they stood in front of the Richter's home.
"What happened?"
Frank dismounted from the mount and approached them, it was the Richters, James family dead. "Someone executed them, .45 ACP, had them on their knees."
"Why?"
"I don't know...but Oliver isn't here."
As Frank examined the bodies he heard a small sob and saw James, a now broken man with a gun in his hand by a barren tree.
"You!"
He stood up and walked towards Frank as he pointed the gun at Wendy.
"Whoa easy, Oliver...set the gun down."
"This is all your fault...this is all on you!"
"Easy now look this is on nobody...just put the gun down."
"No!"
"Then just...gun on me.. okay not her. Me."
Oliver turned the gun and aimed at Frank.
"They did this cause of her! They did all of this cause of her! You brought her here!"
"Oliver...come on...I wasn't trying to have this happen put the gun down, we can talk this through."
Wendy looked at Oliver his hands and shirt caked in blood
"Oliver..come on man. Look we can talk this through."
"He made me......I saw everything...."
"Who did?"
"He wanted her.....he wanted her dead....."
"Oliver...don't."
Oliver moved his arm and in that split second, Frank drew and fired his revolver into Oliver. Wendy let out a horrified groan as he fell back dead the pistol going off as it hit the ground.
"God dammit!"
Frank knelt by his old friends corpse and cleaned it up before picking him up and bringing him to rest with his family. As New Canaan burned Frank turned back towards Wendy and got back onto the horse.
"Let's go...."
2023.03.22 23:00 Kairukun90 [help] machining safety boots for metal shavings
I need help figuring out what would be a good show/boot when working with small metal shavings from a Cnc machine along with oil. I keep getting tiny slivers in my shoes now and it’s driving me insane. They have to be safety toe of any sorts. Idk if it matters but I have wide feet like most people I know.
Idk why it’s hard to find quality boots nowadays that last mine all seem to fall apart in 6 months and I spend upwards of 200 dollars each time.
submitted by Kairukun90 to Boots [link] [comments]
Idk why it’s hard to find quality boots nowadays that last mine all seem to fall apart in 6 months and I spend upwards of 200 dollars each time.
2023.03.22 22:58 CanadianMultigun Canadian Multigun: Light Infantry Division for future events
After getting a wee bit of feedback from some people that they want a more brutal division to participate in our 2 gun brutality events we have formed the Light Infantry Division.
This is a draft open for change, but you can start prepping now if you choose to:
No wagons, sleds etc. may be used to carry equipment, all gear must be carried on the shooter for the entire duration of the event
• Patrol gear must be carried on stage but may be removed when not on stage
• Endurance gear must be carried between stages, on light infantry tasks and on any specific stages that require it to be carried
Patrol gear needs to be accessible so that the shooter can access those with one hand. (For example the 3 mandatory rifle mags must be accessed with one hand, but any additional rifle mags can be for example in a backpack)
Endurance gear must be worn on top of patrol gear and be able to be removed without undue effort and while maintaining strict safety with firearms.
Patrol Gear Minimum Equipment (must reach a minimum of 15kg)
As a result of these requirements those in the Light Infantry division may not use a rental handgun
Endurance Gear Minimum Equipment (must reach a minimum of 10kg)
Note 2: Light Infantry Division members will be conducting additional daytime and nighttime activities to those in other divisions including staying outdoors overnight. Your preparation will determine your comfort.
submitted by CanadianMultigun to canadaguns [link] [comments]
This is a draft open for change, but you can start prepping now if you choose to:
Light Infantry
No restrictions on gear, weapons or equipment as long as all of it is retained throughout the entire match. Patrol and Endurance gear must reach a minimum 25kg weightNo wagons, sleds etc. may be used to carry equipment, all gear must be carried on the shooter for the entire duration of the event
• Patrol gear must be carried on stage but may be removed when not on stage
• Endurance gear must be carried between stages, on light infantry tasks and on any specific stages that require it to be carried
Patrol gear needs to be accessible so that the shooter can access those with one hand. (For example the 3 mandatory rifle mags must be accessed with one hand, but any additional rifle mags can be for example in a backpack)
Endurance gear must be worn on top of patrol gear and be able to be removed without undue effort and while maintaining strict safety with firearms.
Patrol Gear Minimum Equipment (must reach a minimum of 15kg)
- Pistol which the shooter is using in the competition. Pistol is carried in the holster which shooter is using in the competition
- Rifle which the shooter is using in the competition
- At least 3x rifle magazines
- At least 2 litres of water. (Note: Shooter can drink the water during the competition, however shooter needs to make sure that he/she is carrying at least 1 litre of water while on the stage)
- Knife/multitool. (Length of the blade has to be at least 90mm)
- Torch (Flashlight)
- Gloves
- Sling needs to be carried and attached to the rifle
- First aid kit. (Has to include a functional CAT / tourniquet)
- Plate carrier / Chest rig / Webbing
- Long sleeved shirt and trousers with long leg, color of these clothes needs to be discreet so that those could be used in military service.
- Boots which colour is discreet so that those can be used in military service. Shoes needs to be give support to ankle
- Any additional equipment/weights required to meet the 15kg
As a result of these requirements those in the Light Infantry division may not use a rental handgun
Endurance Gear Minimum Equipment (must reach a minimum of 10kg)
- Backpack / Bergen to carry endurance gear
- Waterproof Jacket and trousers with long leg, colour of these needs to be discreet
- Spare set of trousers, shirt, jacket, underwear, and socks
- Cold weather clothing (at your discretion)
- Sleeping bag, bivvy bag and roll matt
- Tarpaulin (with grommets), Tent Pegs and Paracord
- Cooking equipment & utensils
- 36h worth of food & water
- Toiletry pack
- Compact shovel
- Ammunition
- Any additional equipment/weights required to meet the 10kg limit
Note 2: Light Infantry Division members will be conducting additional daytime and nighttime activities to those in other divisions including staying outdoors overnight. Your preparation will determine your comfort.
2023.03.22 22:52 harryhood78 Jam Band Legacy: Grateful Dead>Phish>Goose
IMHO, I believe there is now a clear jam band legacy. What do I mean? The first jam band as we know it was the Grateful Dead. They took different genres, improvisation, and creativity to blend their influences into a new form. Taking elements from folk, bluegrass, jazz, fusion, funk, etc. and making something new. They also had, and still do, a huge fan base that traveled, taped, and lived the Deadhead lifestyle. They influenced many but the next top tier jam band to come along was Phish. They took a page out of the Grateful Dead’s playbook but then added their own mixture and elements to make a new type of sound. This is the evolution of the jam band. Then when Jerry Garcia died Phish took the reins as top jam band. They had the fan base, songs, and skills to step into the Dead’s shoes. And, then it seemed like there was a jam band explosion and we got all types of different styles of jam bands. However, it is not until Goose that we get the next evolution of the jam band. Great songs, musicianship, singing, studio recordings, and live improvisations. As we have seen, both the Dead and Phish have played live with Goose. I know I’m leaving out many other jam bands but I do not believe anyone else reaches the heights of these 3 bands. All 3 are on my Mt. Rushmore of jam bands. What is another jam band you believe should be on this level? *my opinion, please debate maturely
submitted by harryhood78 to Music [link] [comments]
2023.03.22 22:03 HarryDreamtItAll Worst Youth Group Game Idea Ever
 | submitted by HarryDreamtItAll to bing [link] [comments] |
2023.03.22 21:59 RecordReviewer Willis Reed's '73 Knicks might be the most historic championship team of all-time.
Below was something I wrote last year when doing some research on the 1973 Knicks. With Willis Reed's recent passing, I wanted to bring it to everyone's attention again just how much history was packed into a single franchise that season:
First, I want to make one thing clear. I am NOT saying the '73 Knicks were the best team in league history. They were great, but not that great. But I think a case can be made that when you combine the total careers of the individuals responsible for the championship, they were one of the most historic teams in NBA history.
There are plenty of places to start, but I'm going to begin with their arena:
Madison Square Garden- For any normal team, you probably don't bring up their arena to build a case for how important they were. But this isn't a normal team, and this isn't a normal arena.
First thing you have to realize is there have been 4 different venues in New York City called Madison Square Garden. The current one though, was opened in 1968 at 4 Pennsylvania Plaza at the site of the former Pennsylvania Station. The '73 Finals took place here just 5 years after it was built. It wasn't just the Mecca of basketball that we know today (in large part due this very Knicks team), it was arguably the very center of western culture as a whole.
Just to give you an idea of how important the Knicks home court was, here is a short list of some people that performed there in just 1973:
The Beach Boys, Linda Ronstadt, Elton John, Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, Jackson 5, Chicago, Bruce Springsteen, Alice Cooper, John Denver, Judy Collins, Bill Withers, Eric Weisberg, and Neil Young.
Like I said, this isn't a normal arena.
Next, we'll take a look at some non-players associated with the team:
President- Ned Irish- Ol' Ned here had been around for a while in basketball by the time the '73 season had rolled around. He first started promoting basketball games at one of the former MSG sites in 1934. By 1946, he and his closest 10 buddies decided to start a basketball league of their own called the Basketball Association of America. By 1949, they decided it was a good idea to merge with the NBL, and rebrand the new league the National Basketball Association.
Known primarily for his work in founding the NBA and the Knicks, Irish was enshrined in the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1964.
Head Coach/GM- Red Holzman- Red was recently honored as one of the 15 greatest coaches in NBA history and was literally born to coach the Knicks. Born and raised in NYC, Holzman played college ball for CCNY and spent a decade as an assistant for the Knicks prior to becoming head coach.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Knicks, Holzman was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1985.
Assistant coach- Dick McGuire- As if head coach Red wasn't enough of a New Yorker, McGuire was even more closely associated with the city in his basketball career. Also born and raised in NYC, McGuire played 4 seasons at St. Johns before being drafted by the Knicks in the 1st round of the BAA draft in 1949. After finishing his playing career in Detroit as well his first few years coaching, McGuire returned to coaching in the organization from 1965-79.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, McGuire was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1993.
Radio play-by-play- Marv Albert- Might be a bit absurd to include a radio guy, but no other team has ever had the voice of basketball calling their games either.
Known primarily for his role calling NBA games, Albert was inducted into the broadcasting Hall of Fame in 2015.
Ok, now onto some of the players themselves:
Earl Monroe- Vernon Monroe, aka Earl the Pearl, aka Black Jesus, was one of the best ball handlers in early NBA history. An outstanding player at D2 Winston-Salem State, Monroe was drafted 2nd overall by the Bullets in 1967. When he joined the Knicks in 1971, he and Walt Frazier combined for one of the best backcourts in NBA history
Known primarily for his playing career with the Bullets and Knicks, Monroe was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1990.
Jerry Lucas- Long story short on Lucas, he was kinda LeBron before LeBron in terms of hype. He was the most highly sought after recruit in high school, receiving offers from over 150 schools, and having 15,000 in attendance for one of his high school games. He followed that up by being a 3x All-American at Ohio State, 2x Consensus National College Player of the Year, NCAA champion in 1960, as well as winning a gold medal in the 1960 Olympics. He had a great NBA career after that with the Royals, but by the time he was a Knick, it was more in a Walton/Celtics role.
Known primarily for his playing career at Ohio State and with the Royals, Lucas was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1980.
Bill Bradley- Bradley was a national player of the year while at Princeton and won a gold medal in the '64 Olympics. In what has to be among the most unique entries on basketball reference Bradley missed his first two years in the NBA studying as a Rhodes scholar at Oxford. He spent his entire 10 year career with the Knicks, was a 1 time All-Star, lead the team in scoring in the '73 Finals, and checks notes oh yeah became a US Senator after his NBA career.
Known primarily for his playing career at Princeton and with the Knicks, Bradley was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Phil Jackson- So there's a good chance you knew Jackson was on this team, but like me you might not have realized he was 6th on the team in minutes in the '73 Finals and was their 4th leading rebounder for the series. He wasn't just a bench guy, our man Phil was the legit 6th man on a title team. Oh, and he became arguably the greatest coach in league history afterwards.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Bulls and Lakers, Jackson was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 2007.
Dave DeBusschere- DeBusschere is one of just a handful of players that played in both the NBA and MLB. He's also the only player to throw a complete game shutout in the majors in the same year he had a 30 point game in the NBA. On top of that, he was one of the best defensive wings in the NBA in the '70s, and was a 8 time All Star.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Pistons and the Knicks, DeBusschere was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Walt Frazier- Earning the nickname "Clyde" his rookie year after wearing a Bonnie and Clyde style hat, Walt Frazier was the epitome of cool in the '70s. He was one of the first NBA players to get a shoe deal, but easily has the most iconic shoe from those early deals, Frazier backed up his off-court style with his on-court play. He was a 4 time all-NBA 1st team player, and is still the Knicks all-time leader in assists.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Frazier was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1987.
Willis Reed- Last but not least, we have the man in the middle himself Willis Reed. Probably most remembered for inspiring the Knicks to win game 7 of the 1970 NBA Finals just by walking on the court, Reed was without a doubt the heart and soul of this Knicks team as well. He was MVP in 1970, as well as Finals MVP in both '70 and '73, Reeds career was cut short with knee injuries that forced him to retire at just 31 years old. If there was ever a statue build outside of MSG, it'd probably be Reed.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Reed was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1982.
submitted by RecordReviewer to VintageNBA [link] [comments]
First, I want to make one thing clear. I am NOT saying the '73 Knicks were the best team in league history. They were great, but not that great. But I think a case can be made that when you combine the total careers of the individuals responsible for the championship, they were one of the most historic teams in NBA history.
There are plenty of places to start, but I'm going to begin with their arena:
Madison Square Garden- For any normal team, you probably don't bring up their arena to build a case for how important they were. But this isn't a normal team, and this isn't a normal arena.
First thing you have to realize is there have been 4 different venues in New York City called Madison Square Garden. The current one though, was opened in 1968 at 4 Pennsylvania Plaza at the site of the former Pennsylvania Station. The '73 Finals took place here just 5 years after it was built. It wasn't just the Mecca of basketball that we know today (in large part due this very Knicks team), it was arguably the very center of western culture as a whole.
Just to give you an idea of how important the Knicks home court was, here is a short list of some people that performed there in just 1973:
The Beach Boys, Linda Ronstadt, Elton John, Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, Jackson 5, Chicago, Bruce Springsteen, Alice Cooper, John Denver, Judy Collins, Bill Withers, Eric Weisberg, and Neil Young.
Like I said, this isn't a normal arena.
Next, we'll take a look at some non-players associated with the team:
President- Ned Irish- Ol' Ned here had been around for a while in basketball by the time the '73 season had rolled around. He first started promoting basketball games at one of the former MSG sites in 1934. By 1946, he and his closest 10 buddies decided to start a basketball league of their own called the Basketball Association of America. By 1949, they decided it was a good idea to merge with the NBL, and rebrand the new league the National Basketball Association.
Known primarily for his work in founding the NBA and the Knicks, Irish was enshrined in the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1964.
Head Coach/GM- Red Holzman- Red was recently honored as one of the 15 greatest coaches in NBA history and was literally born to coach the Knicks. Born and raised in NYC, Holzman played college ball for CCNY and spent a decade as an assistant for the Knicks prior to becoming head coach.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Knicks, Holzman was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1985.
Assistant coach- Dick McGuire- As if head coach Red wasn't enough of a New Yorker, McGuire was even more closely associated with the city in his basketball career. Also born and raised in NYC, McGuire played 4 seasons at St. Johns before being drafted by the Knicks in the 1st round of the BAA draft in 1949. After finishing his playing career in Detroit as well his first few years coaching, McGuire returned to coaching in the organization from 1965-79.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, McGuire was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1993.
Radio play-by-play- Marv Albert- Might be a bit absurd to include a radio guy, but no other team has ever had the voice of basketball calling their games either.
Known primarily for his role calling NBA games, Albert was inducted into the broadcasting Hall of Fame in 2015.
Ok, now onto some of the players themselves:
Earl Monroe- Vernon Monroe, aka Earl the Pearl, aka Black Jesus, was one of the best ball handlers in early NBA history. An outstanding player at D2 Winston-Salem State, Monroe was drafted 2nd overall by the Bullets in 1967. When he joined the Knicks in 1971, he and Walt Frazier combined for one of the best backcourts in NBA history
Known primarily for his playing career with the Bullets and Knicks, Monroe was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1990.
Jerry Lucas- Long story short on Lucas, he was kinda LeBron before LeBron in terms of hype. He was the most highly sought after recruit in high school, receiving offers from over 150 schools, and having 15,000 in attendance for one of his high school games. He followed that up by being a 3x All-American at Ohio State, 2x Consensus National College Player of the Year, NCAA champion in 1960, as well as winning a gold medal in the 1960 Olympics. He had a great NBA career after that with the Royals, but by the time he was a Knick, it was more in a Walton/Celtics role.
Known primarily for his playing career at Ohio State and with the Royals, Lucas was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1980.
Bill Bradley- Bradley was a national player of the year while at Princeton and won a gold medal in the '64 Olympics. In what has to be among the most unique entries on basketball reference Bradley missed his first two years in the NBA studying as a Rhodes scholar at Oxford. He spent his entire 10 year career with the Knicks, was a 1 time All-Star, lead the team in scoring in the '73 Finals, and checks notes oh yeah became a US Senator after his NBA career.
Known primarily for his playing career at Princeton and with the Knicks, Bradley was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Phil Jackson- So there's a good chance you knew Jackson was on this team, but like me you might not have realized he was 6th on the team in minutes in the '73 Finals and was their 4th leading rebounder for the series. He wasn't just a bench guy, our man Phil was the legit 6th man on a title team. Oh, and he became arguably the greatest coach in league history afterwards.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Bulls and Lakers, Jackson was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 2007.
Dave DeBusschere- DeBusschere is one of just a handful of players that played in both the NBA and MLB. He's also the only player to throw a complete game shutout in the majors in the same year he had a 30 point game in the NBA. On top of that, he was one of the best defensive wings in the NBA in the '70s, and was a 8 time All Star.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Pistons and the Knicks, DeBusschere was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Walt Frazier- Earning the nickname "Clyde" his rookie year after wearing a Bonnie and Clyde style hat, Walt Frazier was the epitome of cool in the '70s. He was one of the first NBA players to get a shoe deal, but easily has the most iconic shoe from those early deals, Frazier backed up his off-court style with his on-court play. He was a 4 time all-NBA 1st team player, and is still the Knicks all-time leader in assists.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Frazier was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1987.
Willis Reed- Last but not least, we have the man in the middle himself Willis Reed. Probably most remembered for inspiring the Knicks to win game 7 of the 1970 NBA Finals just by walking on the court, Reed was without a doubt the heart and soul of this Knicks team as well. He was MVP in 1970, as well as Finals MVP in both '70 and '73, Reeds career was cut short with knee injuries that forced him to retire at just 31 years old. If there was ever a statue build outside of MSG, it'd probably be Reed.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Reed was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1982.
2023.03.22 21:51 RecordReviewer Willis Reed's '73 Knicks might be the most historic championship team of all-time.
Below was something I wrote last year when doing some research on the 1973 Knicks. With Willis Reed's recent passing, I wanted to bring it to everyone's attention again just how much history was packed into a single franchise that season:
First, I want to make one thing clear. I am NOT saying the '73 Knicks were the best team in league history. They were great, but not that great. But I think a case can be made that when you combine the total careers of the individuals responsible for the championship, they were one of the most historic teams in NBA history.
There are plenty of places to start, but I'm going to begin with their arena:
Madison Square Garden- For any normal team, you probably don't bring up their arena to build a case for how important they were. But this isn't a normal team, and this isn't a normal arena.
First thing you have to realize is there have been 4 different venues in New York City called Madison Square Garden. The current one though, was opened in 1968 at 4 Pennsylvania Plaza at the site of the former Pennsylvania Station. The '73 Finals took place here just 5 years after it was built. It wasn't just the Mecca of basketball that we know today (in large part due this very Knicks team), it was arguably the very center of western culture as a whole.
Just to give you an idea of how important the Knicks home court was, here is a short list of some people that performed there in just 1973:
The Beach Boys, Linda Ronstadt, Elton John, Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, Jackson 5, Chicago, Bruce Springsteen, Alice Cooper, John Denver, Judy Collins, Bill Withers, Eric Weisberg, and Neil Young.
Like I said, this isn't a normal arena.
Next, we'll take a look at some non-players associated with the team:
President- Ned Irish- Ol' Ned here had been around for a while in basketball by the time the '73 season had rolled around. He first started promoting basketball games at one of the former MSG sites in 1934. By 1946, he and his closest 10 buddies decided to start a basketball league of their own called the Basketball Association of America. By 1949, they decided it was a good idea to merge with the NBL, and rebrand the new league the National Basketball Association.
Known primarily for his work in founding the NBA and the Knicks, Irish was enshrined in the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1964.
Head Coach/GM- Red Holzman- Red was recently honored as one of the 15 greatest coaches in NBA history and was literally born to coach the Knicks. Born and raised in NYC, Holzman played college ball for CCNY and spent a decade as an assistant for the Knicks prior to becoming head coach.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Knicks, Holzman was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1985.
Assistant coach- Dick McGuire- As if head coach Red wasn't enough of a New Yorker, McGuire was even more closely associated with the city in his basketball career. Also born and raised in NYC, McGuire played 4 seasons at St. Johns before being drafted by the Knicks in the 1st round of the BAA draft in 1949. After finishing his playing career in Detroit as well his first few years coaching, McGuire returned to coaching in the organization from 1965-79.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, McGuire was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1993.
Radio play-by-play- Marv Albert- Might be a bit absurd to include a radio guy, but no other team has ever had the voice of basketball calling their games either.
Known primarily for his role calling NBA games, Albert was inducted into the broadcasting Hall of Fame in 2015.
Ok, now onto some of the players themselves:
Earl Monroe- Vernon Monroe, aka Earl the Pearl, aka Black Jesus, was one of the best ball handlers in early NBA history. An outstanding player at D2 Winston-Salem State, Monroe was drafted 2nd overall by the Bullets in 1967. When he joined the Knicks in 1971, he and Walt Frazier combined for one of the best backcourts in NBA history
Known primarily for his playing career with the Bullets and Knicks, Monroe was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1990.
Jerry Lucas- Long story short on Lucas, he was kinda LeBron before LeBron in terms of hype. He was the most highly sought after recruit in high school, receiving offers from over 150 schools, and having 15,000 in attendance for one of his high school games. He followed that up by being a 3x All-American at Ohio State, 2x Consensus National College Player of the Year, NCAA champion in 1960, as well as winning a gold medal in the 1960 Olympics. He had a great NBA career after that with the Royals, but by the time he was a Knick, it was more in a Walton/Celtics role.
Known primarily for his playing career at Ohio State and with the Royals, Lucas was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1980.
Bill Bradley- Bradley was a national player of the year while at Princeton and won a gold medal in the '64 Olympics. In what has to be among the most unique entries on basketball reference Bradley missed his first two years in the NBA studying as a Rhodes scholar at Oxford. He spent his entire 10 year career with the Knicks, was a 1 time All-Star, lead the team in scoring in the '73 Finals, and checks notes oh yeah became a US Senator after his NBA career.
Known primarily for his playing career at Princeton and with the Knicks, Bradley was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Phil Jackson- So there's a good chance you knew Jackson was on this team, but like me you might not have realized he was 6th on the team in minutes in the '73 Finals and was their 4th leading rebounder for the series. He wasn't just a bench guy, our man Phil was the legit 6th man on a title team. Oh, and he became arguably the greatest coach in league history afterwards.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Bulls and Lakers, Jackson was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 2007.
Dave DeBusschere- DeBusschere is one of just a handful of players that played in both the NBA and MLB. He's also the only player to throw a complete game shutout in the majors in the same year he had a 30 point game in the NBA. On top of that, he was one of the best defensive wings in the NBA in the '70s, and was a 8 time All Star.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Pistons and the Knicks, DeBusschere was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Walt Frazier- Earning the nickname "Clyde" his rookie year after wearing a Bonnie and Clyde style hat, Walt Frazier was the epitome of cool in the '70s. He was one of the first NBA players to get a shoe deal, but easily has the most iconic shoe from those early deals, Frazier backed up his off-court style with his on-court play. He was a 4 time all-NBA 1st team player, and is still the Knicks all-time leader in assists.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Frazier was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1987.
Willis Reed- Last but not least, we have the man in the middle himself Willis Reed. Probably most remembered for inspiring the Knicks to win game 7 of the 1970 NBA Finals just by walking on the court, Reed was without a doubt the heart and soul of this Knicks team as well. He was MVP in 1970, as well as Finals MVP in both '70 and '73, Reeds career was cut short with knee injuries that forced him to retire at just 31 years old. If there was ever a statue build outside of MSG, it'd probably be Reed.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Reed was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1982.
submitted by RecordReviewer to nba [link] [comments]
First, I want to make one thing clear. I am NOT saying the '73 Knicks were the best team in league history. They were great, but not that great. But I think a case can be made that when you combine the total careers of the individuals responsible for the championship, they were one of the most historic teams in NBA history.
There are plenty of places to start, but I'm going to begin with their arena:
Madison Square Garden- For any normal team, you probably don't bring up their arena to build a case for how important they were. But this isn't a normal team, and this isn't a normal arena.
First thing you have to realize is there have been 4 different venues in New York City called Madison Square Garden. The current one though, was opened in 1968 at 4 Pennsylvania Plaza at the site of the former Pennsylvania Station. The '73 Finals took place here just 5 years after it was built. It wasn't just the Mecca of basketball that we know today (in large part due this very Knicks team), it was arguably the very center of western culture as a whole.
Just to give you an idea of how important the Knicks home court was, here is a short list of some people that performed there in just 1973:
The Beach Boys, Linda Ronstadt, Elton John, Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, Jackson 5, Chicago, Bruce Springsteen, Alice Cooper, John Denver, Judy Collins, Bill Withers, Eric Weisberg, and Neil Young.
Like I said, this isn't a normal arena.
Next, we'll take a look at some non-players associated with the team:
President- Ned Irish- Ol' Ned here had been around for a while in basketball by the time the '73 season had rolled around. He first started promoting basketball games at one of the former MSG sites in 1934. By 1946, he and his closest 10 buddies decided to start a basketball league of their own called the Basketball Association of America. By 1949, they decided it was a good idea to merge with the NBL, and rebrand the new league the National Basketball Association.
Known primarily for his work in founding the NBA and the Knicks, Irish was enshrined in the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1964.
Head Coach/GM- Red Holzman- Red was recently honored as one of the 15 greatest coaches in NBA history and was literally born to coach the Knicks. Born and raised in NYC, Holzman played college ball for CCNY and spent a decade as an assistant for the Knicks prior to becoming head coach.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Knicks, Holzman was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1985.
Assistant coach- Dick McGuire- As if head coach Red wasn't enough of a New Yorker, McGuire was even more closely associated with the city in his basketball career. Also born and raised in NYC, McGuire played 4 seasons at St. Johns before being drafted by the Knicks in the 1st round of the BAA draft in 1949. After finishing his playing career in Detroit as well his first few years coaching, McGuire returned to coaching in the organization from 1965-79.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, McGuire was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1993.
Radio play-by-play- Marv Albert- Might be a bit absurd to include a radio guy, but no other team has ever had the voice of basketball calling their games either.
Known primarily for his role calling NBA games, Albert was inducted into the broadcasting Hall of Fame in 2015.
Ok, now onto some of the players themselves:
Earl Monroe- Vernon Monroe, aka Earl the Pearl, aka Black Jesus, was one of the best ball handlers in early NBA history. An outstanding player at D2 Winston-Salem State, Monroe was drafted 2nd overall by the Bullets in 1967. When he joined the Knicks in 1971, he and Walt Frazier combined for one of the best backcourts in NBA history
Known primarily for his playing career with the Bullets and Knicks, Monroe was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1990.
Jerry Lucas- Long story short on Lucas, he was kinda LeBron before LeBron in terms of hype. He was the most highly sought after recruit in high school, receiving offers from over 150 schools, and having 15,000 in attendance for one of his high school games. He followed that up by being a 3x All-American at Ohio State, 2x Consensus National College Player of the Year, NCAA champion in 1960, as well as winning a gold medal in the 1960 Olympics. He had a great NBA career after that with the Royals, but by the time he was a Knick, it was more in a Walton/Celtics role.
Known primarily for his playing career at Ohio State and with the Royals, Lucas was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1980.
Bill Bradley- Bradley was a national player of the year while at Princeton and won a gold medal in the '64 Olympics. In what has to be among the most unique entries on basketball reference Bradley missed his first two years in the NBA studying as a Rhodes scholar at Oxford. He spent his entire 10 year career with the Knicks, was a 1 time All-Star, lead the team in scoring in the '73 Finals, and checks notes oh yeah became a US Senator after his NBA career.
Known primarily for his playing career at Princeton and with the Knicks, Bradley was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Phil Jackson- So there's a good chance you knew Jackson was on this team, but like me you might not have realized he was 6th on the team in minutes in the '73 Finals and was their 4th leading rebounder for the series. He wasn't just a bench guy, our man Phil was the legit 6th man on a title team. Oh, and he became arguably the greatest coach in league history afterwards.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Bulls and Lakers, Jackson was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 2007.
Dave DeBusschere- DeBusschere is one of just a handful of players that played in both the NBA and MLB. He's also the only player to throw a complete game shutout in the majors in the same year he had a 30 point game in the NBA. On top of that, he was one of the best defensive wings in the NBA in the '70s, and was a 8 time All Star.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Pistons and the Knicks, DeBusschere was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Walt Frazier- Earning the nickname "Clyde" his rookie year after wearing a Bonnie and Clyde style hat, Walt Frazier was the epitome of cool in the '70s. He was one of the first NBA players to get a shoe deal, but easily has the most iconic shoe from those early deals, Frazier backed up his off-court style with his on-court play. He was a 4 time all-NBA 1st team player, and is still the Knicks all-time leader in assists.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Frazier was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1987.
Willis Reed- Last but not least, we have the man in the middle himself Willis Reed. Probably most remembered for inspiring the Knicks to win game 7 of the 1970 NBA Finals just by walking on the court, Reed was without a doubt the heart and soul of this Knicks team as well. He was MVP in 1970, as well as Finals MVP in both '70 and '73, Reeds career was cut short with knee injuries that forced him to retire at just 31 years old. If there was ever a statue build outside of MSG, it'd probably be Reed.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Reed was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1982.
2023.03.22 21:50 RecordReviewer Willis Reed's '73 Knicks might be the most historic championship team of all-time.
Below was something I wrote last year when doing some research on the 1973 Knicks. With Willis Reed's recent passing, I wanted to bring it to everyone's attention again just how much history was packed into a single franchise that season:
First, I want to make one thing clear. I am NOT saying the '73 Knicks were the best team in league history. They were great, but not that great. But I think a case can be made that when you combine the total careers of the individuals responsible for the championship, they were one of the most historic teams in NBA history.
There are plenty of places to start, but I'm going to begin with their arena:
Madison Square Garden- For any normal team, you probably don't bring up their arena to build a case for how important they were. But this isn't a normal team, and this isn't a normal arena.
First thing you have to realize is there have been 4 different venues in New York City called Madison Square Garden. The current one though, was opened in 1968 at 4 Pennsylvania Plaza at the site of the former Pennsylvania Station. The '73 Finals took place here just 5 years after it was built. It wasn't just the Mecca of basketball that we know today (in large part due this very Knicks team), it was arguably the very center of western culture as a whole.
Just to give you an idea of how important the Knicks home court was, here is a short list of some people that performed there in just 1973:
The Beach Boys, Linda Ronstadt, Elton John, Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, Jackson 5, Chicago, Bruce Springsteen, Alice Cooper, John Denver, Judy Collins, Bill Withers, Eric Weisberg, and Neil Young.
Like I said, this isn't a normal arena.
Next, we'll take a look at some non-players associated with the team:
President- Ned Irish- Ol' Ned here had been around for a while in basketball by the time the '73 season had rolled around. He first started promoting basketball games at one of the former MSG sites in 1934. By 1946, he and his closest 10 buddies decided to start a basketball league of their own called the Basketball Association of America. By 1949, they decided it was a good idea to merge with the NBL, and rebrand the new league the National Basketball Association.
Known primarily for his work in founding the NBA and the Knicks, Irish was enshrined in the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1964.
Head Coach/GM- Red Holzman- Red was recently honored as one of the 15 greatest coaches in NBA history and was literally born to coach the Knicks. Born and raised in NYC, Holzman played college ball for CCNY and spent a decade as an assistant for the Knicks prior to becoming head coach.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Knicks, Holzman was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1985.
Assistant coach- Dick McGuire- As if head coach Red wasn't enough of a New Yorker, McGuire was even more closely associated with the city in his basketball career. Also born and raised in NYC, McGuire played 4 seasons at St. Johns before being drafted by the Knicks in the 1st round of the BAA draft in 1949. After finishing his playing career in Detroit as well his first few years coaching, McGuire returned to coaching in the organization from 1965-79.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, McGuire was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1993.
Radio play-by-play- Marv Albert- Might be a bit absurd to include a radio guy, but no other team has ever had the voice of basketball calling their games either.
Known primarily for his role calling NBA games, Albert was inducted into the broadcasting Hall of Fame in 2015.
Ok, now onto some of the players themselves:
Earl Monroe- Vernon Monroe, aka Earl the Pearl, aka Black Jesus, was one of the best ball handlers in early NBA history. An outstanding player at D2 Winston-Salem State, Monroe was drafted 2nd overall by the Bullets in 1967. When he joined the Knicks in 1971, he and Walt Frazier combined for one of the best backcourts in NBA history
Known primarily for his playing career with the Bullets and Knicks, Monroe was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1990.
Jerry Lucas- Long story short on Lucas, he was kinda LeBron before LeBron in terms of hype. He was the most highly sought after recruit in high school, receiving offers from over 150 schools, and having 15,000 in attendance for one of his high school games. He followed that up by being a 3x All-American at Ohio State, 2x Consensus National College Player of the Year, NCAA champion in 1960, as well as winning a gold medal in the 1960 Olympics. He had a great NBA career after that with the Royals, but by the time he was a Knick, it was more in a Walton/Celtics role.
Known primarily for his playing career at Ohio State and with the Royals, Lucas was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1980.
Bill Bradley- Bradley was a national player of the year while at Princeton and won a gold medal in the '64 Olympics. In what has to be among the most unique entries on basketball reference Bradley missed his first two years in the NBA studying as a Rhodes scholar at Oxford. He spent his entire 10 year career with the Knicks, was a 1 time All-Star, lead the team in scoring in the '73 Finals, and checks notes oh yeah became a US Senator after his NBA career.
Known primarily for his playing career at Princeton and with the Knicks, Bradley was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Phil Jackson- So there's a good chance you knew Jackson was on this team, but like me you might not have realized he was 6th on the team in minutes in the '73 Finals and was their 4th leading rebounder for the series. He wasn't just a bench guy, our man Phil was the legit 6th man on a title team. Oh, and he became arguably the greatest coach in league history afterwards.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Bulls and Lakers, Jackson was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 2007.
Dave DeBusschere- DeBusschere is one of just a handful of players that played in both the NBA and MLB. He's also the only player to throw a complete game shutout in the majors in the same year he had a 30 point game in the NBA. On top of that, he was one of the best defensive wings in the NBA in the '70s, and was a 8 time All Star.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Pistons and the Knicks, DeBusschere was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Walt Frazier- Earning the nickname "Clyde" his rookie year after wearing a Bonnie and Clyde style hat, Walt Frazier was the epitome of cool in the '70s. He was one of the first NBA players to get a shoe deal, but easily has the most iconic shoe from those early deals, Frazier backed up his off-court style with his on-court play. He was a 4 time all-NBA 1st team player, and is still the Knicks all-time leader in assists.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Frazier was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1987.
Willis Reed- Last but not least, we have the man in the middle himself Willis Reed. Probably most remembered for inspiring the Knicks to win game 7 of the 1970 NBA Finals just by walking on the court, Reed was without a doubt the heart and soul of this Knicks team as well. He was MVP in 1970, as well as Finals MVP in both '70 and '73, Reeds career was cut short with knee injuries that forced him to retire at just 31 years old. If there was ever a statue build outside of MSG, it'd probably be Reed.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Reed was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1982.
submitted by RecordReviewer to nbadiscussion [link] [comments]
First, I want to make one thing clear. I am NOT saying the '73 Knicks were the best team in league history. They were great, but not that great. But I think a case can be made that when you combine the total careers of the individuals responsible for the championship, they were one of the most historic teams in NBA history.
There are plenty of places to start, but I'm going to begin with their arena:
Madison Square Garden- For any normal team, you probably don't bring up their arena to build a case for how important they were. But this isn't a normal team, and this isn't a normal arena.
First thing you have to realize is there have been 4 different venues in New York City called Madison Square Garden. The current one though, was opened in 1968 at 4 Pennsylvania Plaza at the site of the former Pennsylvania Station. The '73 Finals took place here just 5 years after it was built. It wasn't just the Mecca of basketball that we know today (in large part due this very Knicks team), it was arguably the very center of western culture as a whole.
Just to give you an idea of how important the Knicks home court was, here is a short list of some people that performed there in just 1973:
The Beach Boys, Linda Ronstadt, Elton John, Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, Jackson 5, Chicago, Bruce Springsteen, Alice Cooper, John Denver, Judy Collins, Bill Withers, Eric Weisberg, and Neil Young.
Like I said, this isn't a normal arena.
Next, we'll take a look at some non-players associated with the team:
President- Ned Irish- Ol' Ned here had been around for a while in basketball by the time the '73 season had rolled around. He first started promoting basketball games at one of the former MSG sites in 1934. By 1946, he and his closest 10 buddies decided to start a basketball league of their own called the Basketball Association of America. By 1949, they decided it was a good idea to merge with the NBL, and rebrand the new league the National Basketball Association.
Known primarily for his work in founding the NBA and the Knicks, Irish was enshrined in the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1964.
Head Coach/GM- Red Holzman- Red was recently honored as one of the 15 greatest coaches in NBA history and was literally born to coach the Knicks. Born and raised in NYC, Holzman played college ball for CCNY and spent a decade as an assistant for the Knicks prior to becoming head coach.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Knicks, Holzman was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1985.
Assistant coach- Dick McGuire- As if head coach Red wasn't enough of a New Yorker, McGuire was even more closely associated with the city in his basketball career. Also born and raised in NYC, McGuire played 4 seasons at St. Johns before being drafted by the Knicks in the 1st round of the BAA draft in 1949. After finishing his playing career in Detroit as well his first few years coaching, McGuire returned to coaching in the organization from 1965-79.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, McGuire was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1993.
Radio play-by-play- Marv Albert- Might be a bit absurd to include a radio guy, but no other team has ever had the voice of basketball calling their games either.
Known primarily for his role calling NBA games, Albert was inducted into the broadcasting Hall of Fame in 2015.
Ok, now onto some of the players themselves:
Earl Monroe- Vernon Monroe, aka Earl the Pearl, aka Black Jesus, was one of the best ball handlers in early NBA history. An outstanding player at D2 Winston-Salem State, Monroe was drafted 2nd overall by the Bullets in 1967. When he joined the Knicks in 1971, he and Walt Frazier combined for one of the best backcourts in NBA history
Known primarily for his playing career with the Bullets and Knicks, Monroe was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1990.
Jerry Lucas- Long story short on Lucas, he was kinda LeBron before LeBron in terms of hype. He was the most highly sought after recruit in high school, receiving offers from over 150 schools, and having 15,000 in attendance for one of his high school games. He followed that up by being a 3x All-American at Ohio State, 2x Consensus National College Player of the Year, NCAA champion in 1960, as well as winning a gold medal in the 1960 Olympics. He had a great NBA career after that with the Royals, but by the time he was a Knick, it was more in a Walton/Celtics role.
Known primarily for his playing career at Ohio State and with the Royals, Lucas was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1980.
Bill Bradley- Bradley was a national player of the year while at Princeton and won a gold medal in the '64 Olympics. In what has to be among the most unique entries on basketball reference Bradley missed his first two years in the NBA studying as a Rhodes scholar at Oxford. He spent his entire 10 year career with the Knicks, was a 1 time All-Star, lead the team in scoring in the '73 Finals, and checks notes oh yeah became a US Senator after his NBA career.
Known primarily for his playing career at Princeton and with the Knicks, Bradley was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Phil Jackson- So there's a good chance you knew Jackson was on this team, but like me you might not have realized he was 6th on the team in minutes in the '73 Finals and was their 4th leading rebounder for the series. He wasn't just a bench guy, our man Phil was the legit 6th man on a title team. Oh, and he became arguably the greatest coach in league history afterwards.
Known primarily for his work coaching the Bulls and Lakers, Jackson was elected into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 2007.
Dave DeBusschere- DeBusschere is one of just a handful of players that played in both the NBA and MLB. He's also the only player to throw a complete game shutout in the majors in the same year he had a 30 point game in the NBA. On top of that, he was one of the best defensive wings in the NBA in the '70s, and was a 8 time All Star.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Pistons and the Knicks, DeBusschere was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1983.
Walt Frazier- Earning the nickname "Clyde" his rookie year after wearing a Bonnie and Clyde style hat, Walt Frazier was the epitome of cool in the '70s. He was one of the first NBA players to get a shoe deal, but easily has the most iconic shoe from those early deals, Frazier backed up his off-court style with his on-court play. He was a 4 time all-NBA 1st team player, and is still the Knicks all-time leader in assists.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Frazier was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1987.
Willis Reed- Last but not least, we have the man in the middle himself Willis Reed. Probably most remembered for inspiring the Knicks to win game 7 of the 1970 NBA Finals just by walking on the court, Reed was without a doubt the heart and soul of this Knicks team as well. He was MVP in 1970, as well as Finals MVP in both '70 and '73, Reeds career was cut short with knee injuries that forced him to retire at just 31 years old. If there was ever a statue build outside of MSG, it'd probably be Reed.
Known primarily for his playing career with the Knicks, Reed was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1982.
2023.03.22 21:31 JewelerMinimum6418 IF YOU TAP YOU WILL CUM
 | IF YOU TAP YOU WILL CUMIF YOU TAP YOU WILL CUMIF YOU TAP YOU WILL CUMhttps://i.redd.it/4ykh588wocpa1.gif This story continues on directly after my previous story, Two Fridays – Part 1. In the morning I woke up, and wondered if it had all been a dream. My come-stained shirt, lying in the corner near the head of my bed, where I had tossed it before getting in, showed one thing- the part about wanking myself was certainly true, but what about the rest? I showered and put on fresh clothes for the day, and a short time later, Tina came to join me at breakfast, straight from her bed, and wearing her nightie and brunch coat. Although as usual, we talked and chattered over breakfast, Tina said nothing about last night, which suggested to me that maybe I just dreamt it, but it all seemed so real. Then, if it was real, and Tina showed no sign it ever happened, that probably meant she was ashamed, and it certainly meant it wasn’t going to happen again. I thought it was best not to bring the subject up, unless Tina did it first. I noticed that, straight after breakfast, and before she even had a shower, Tina stripped her bed and took her sheets to the laundry, putting them straight in the washing machine, but even that wasn’t unusual for her. Our mother was still having her Saturday morning sleep-in, and as Tina walked from the laundry, our eyes met, but she said nothing out of the ordinary. The entire weekend went by, with no hint of anything from Tina, but a couple of times when her door was shut, I had to wonder if she was in there, touching herself like she had done for me, pleasuring herself the way she had done on Friday night, and my throat would go dry, and that familiar need to take matters in hand would make itself known. I masturbated twice that Sunday without using a porn magazine for inspiration, just re-running the events of Friday night in my head. Monday, of course, was a school day, and after school, Tina and I caught the same bus home as usual, but when we got off at our stop, I saw Tina walking with Katy in the direction of Katy’s house. I went home and changed into some shorts and a casual shirt, did a little half-hearted work on a school assignment due later in the week, and then watched some TV. Tina came in the back door, about an hour after I got home, still in her school uniform, and as soon as she walked into the family room, she said, “Look at this.” She reached into her school backpack, took out a DVD case, and handed it to me. I could see straight away it was a porn movie, and the title on the front was Heatwave at Station 69. There was a picture on the front, of a busty, bare-breasted blonde girl, wearing an open fireman’s jacket over stockings, suspenders and white lace panties, and holding the metal end of a firehose, the way a girl would hold a man’s cock when she was giving him a hand job. I turned it over and on the back there were some stills from the movie, and it said, Things heat up all over when a charm school for young ladies opens up next door to a Louisiana fire station. Polish your helmet and you can come, too. Let’s all go for a ride-along with these good old boys and their southern belles “Where’d you get that?” I said, handing it back to Tina. I couldn’t help smiling. “Katy,” she answered, cheerfully, “She was snooping around in her father’s bedside table and found it in the drawer with some other ones. She didn’t think he’d notice if she borrowed one for a few days.” “What are you gonna do with it?” I asked, chuckling. “Watch it, Dickhead. What do you normally do with movies?” Tina smiled, “When Mum’s not home, of course.” She took the DVD, and went to her room, and came out a few minutes later with some jeans and a pink top on, and watched TV with me until our mother came home from work. The week went by, and almost before I knew it, Friday night came around again. I forgot all about the porn DVD, and as usual on a Friday night, after cooking us our dinner, our mother got dolled up and left in a taxi to go and meet her unofficial boyfriend, Steve. I don’t know why, but for some reason, although she had him over a few times, and he got on okay with Tina and me, she never let him stay the night, and didn’t like anyone referring to him as her boyfriend. Women can be strange sometimes. Tina was wearing a short skirt, made of white denim, and a cream coloured top, with short sleeves and a square neckline that showed some of her modest cleavage, and her hair was in its usual ponytail. We sat and watched some comedy shows on TV, and then after they ended, I looked at the TV guide, to see if there was anything worth watching. One channel had a rerun of Dirty Dancing, but I’d seen that at least half a dozen times, and there was nothing interesting on any of the other channels. Tina came in from the kitchen and said, “What’s on?” “Crap,” I said, “Dirty Dancing is on but not much else.” “Patrick Swayze’s a hunk, but I’ve seen it so many times I can practically recite the script,” Tina said, without much interest. She sat on the couch next to me, and said, “Hey, let’s watch that dirty movie.” She was smiling, a little mischievously. “Okay,” I smiled. I’d forgotten about it, but Tina got up and went down the hall to her room, and came back a minute later. When she bent to put the DVD in the player, I caught a glimpse of pink cotton panties under her short skirt. She came to the couch, kicked off her sandals, and sat next to me. Like any guy my age, I had seen a few porn DVD’s, but to be honest, I had never watched one right through, because I usually got so horny I had to wank myself before it was over. This one went for forty minutes, and like most dirty movies, it showed people fucking missionary style, doggy style, cowgirl, there were pussies licked, cocks sucked, even a lesbian threesome with two female firefighters, and a girl from the charm school. As usual, the flimsy plot was only there to link a series of sex scenes together, but it was a pretty arousing movie. A few times, I looked over at Tina, and her eyes were glued to the movie, and if it was making me horny, I wondered about how it was affecting her. She had not said a word all week about last Friday night, but I still wondered about that, too. I didn’t know how many dirty movies Tina had seen, but I doubt if this was her first. During the movie, there was one scene where a fireman named Johnny Hardacre had arrived for work in his old pickup, and the principal of the charm school, a voluptuous redhead called Miss Vee, was waiting for him outside the fire station. She was wearing a big, floppy sunhat, and she said, “Mister Hardacre, I’ve been waitin’ for you.” The fireman slammed the pickup door, and strode over to her, kissing her, hot and hard on the mouth, and when they broke their kiss, Miss Vee had said, “Why don’t y’all come next door for a while, Mister Hard-acre? I got a li’l ol’ fire burnin’ inside, that needs some of yo’ ex-pert attention.” The two characters had kissed passionately, with lots of tongue, and plenty of mouth exploration, and had then gone next door, leading to a hot sex scene in Miss Vee’s living quarters, where Mister Hardacre had licked Miss Vee’s pussy, she had sucked his cock, and they had fucked missionary, legs over the shoulder, and then doggy style. Mister Hardacre had finished up by coming on her back, and his cock was massive. There were plenty of close-ups of the action, not just in this scene, but right through the entire move, and seeing those pussies being licked, especially in the lesbian scenes, had its effect on me. After the movie, Tina got up as the credits rolled, and walked down the hallway towards our mother’s bedroom. I was taking the DVD out of the player when she came back in the room, wearing a big, floppy sunhat that belonged to our mother, and it was very similar to the one that Miss Vee was wearing in the movie. Tina stood at the doorway, in her short, white skirt, and cream top, with that floppy sunhat on her head, and standing in the same provocative way that Miss Vee had done in the movie, she said, “Mister Hardacre, I’ve been waitin’ for you.” She even nailed the southern accent. I stood at the TV stand, and chuckled, and Tina said, “You be Johnny Hardacre, and I’ll be Miss Vee.” I stood there, looking at her, and she said, “Come on. Kiss me like he did in the movie.” I said, “Well, he slams the door, and …,” then I strode over to Tina, taking hold of her like Johnny Hardacre had taken hold of Miss Vee in the movie, and I kissed her, trying to do it like the fireman had kissed Miss Vee. Naturally, I felt a wave of excitement going through me as I kissed my sister’s soft mouth, gently exploring hers with the tip of my tongue. When we broke our kiss, Tina recited Miss Vee’s next line, “Why don’t y’all come next door for a while, Mister Hard-acre? I got a li’l ol’ fire burnin’ inside, that needs some of yo’ ex-pert attention.” Once again, she took off the southern accent perfectly, but when I recited Mister Hardacre’s line, to the best of my memory, I didn’t try to do the accent myself. We kissed a little more, as per the movie, but gradually we got out of character, until we were just kissing each other’s mouths for the pleasure it was giving us, holding each other close, kissing in a hot and sexual way, like lovers. We had a break for air, and Tina moved back towards the couch, and sat down, tossing the sunhat over the back onto the floor. I sat next to her on her right, and she moved close to me, and put her right arm across my shoulders. She moistened her lips, and kissed me again, a soft and sexy kiss, but a fairly quick one. Then, with our faces close, she said, in a soft voice, “That was a sexy movie, wasn’t it?” I sighed, and said, “Yeah.” “Do you get excited when you watch movies like that?” Tina asked, still speaking softly. Her face was close enough to mine for me to feel her warm breath. 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2023.03.22 21:22 SimplicityFirst Mostly cruising and a bit of slalom
tldr: Looking for inline skates that are suitable for cruising AND (later on) some slaloming
I read a lot of threads about the best inline skates for beginners. I now know everything about wheel size, rockers and boots, but can’t find the best answer to my question.
Which pair of inline skates is good for cruising (mostly bike lanes) AND practicing some slalom moves? I’m totally mesmerized by the slalom clips so I’d love to do some slaloming after I learn how to skate properly.
I feel like a hard boot is better for me as a beginner, but I want to avoid a ski boot type of thing. I’d like a bit of flexibility in the boot. My shoe size is EU 37,5 (woman). I’ve already decided on a 4x80 setup. I don’t want any bright colored skates as the women’s versions tend to have, I love the black ones. :)
The best options within my budget I see are:
Thanks!
submitted by SimplicityFirst to AskRollerblading [link] [comments]
- 4x80 (manoeuvrability is important for me)
- Hard boot but not like ski boot (a bit of flexibility would be nice)
- No bright colors
- Size 37,5 (EU) (woman)
I read a lot of threads about the best inline skates for beginners. I now know everything about wheel size, rockers and boots, but can’t find the best answer to my question.
Which pair of inline skates is good for cruising (mostly bike lanes) AND practicing some slalom moves? I’m totally mesmerized by the slalom clips so I’d love to do some slaloming after I learn how to skate properly.
I feel like a hard boot is better for me as a beginner, but I want to avoid a ski boot type of thing. I’d like a bit of flexibility in the boot. My shoe size is EU 37,5 (woman). I’ve already decided on a 4x80 setup. I don’t want any bright colored skates as the women’s versions tend to have, I love the black ones. :)
The best options within my budget I see are:
- FR FRX 80 (rockerable frame)
- FR FR3 80 (rockerable frame)
- Powerslide Next, but boot seems a little too bulky for my taste (lower to the ground because of Trinity mount?)
Thanks!
2023.03.22 21:20 imzeigen What EDC boots do you recommend?
I know there are a lot of threads already, but my case is a bit particular. I broke both ankles a few years ago and since then I pretty much only use boots. I have a lot of boots of all kinds since it is pretty much the only kind of shoe I can use and feel 'safe' since my ankles never really fully healed. I had been checking for a pair of boots that are very very comfortable to use every day, from doing shopping, walking the dog, and office work. I have tested a few of the ones mentioned here like dr martens and red, but they feel to 'made for work' and not particularly comfortable. I read that they get better over time, but just won't want to spend a lot of money in a pair that probably won't be comfortable.
Basically my question is, what is the best pair of boots in term of durability and comfort I can get? particularly not for hiking or working.
Thanks!
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Basically my question is, what is the best pair of boots in term of durability and comfort I can get? particularly not for hiking or working.
Thanks!
2023.03.22 21:06 SRTNerd_81 WWS Ground Zero - Week 1
January 3, 2023
WWS Ground Zero
All State Arena, Rosemont, Illnois
The show kicks off with William Regal inside the ring, he gets a huge reaction from the crowd. He grabs a microphone and says, “This is WAR. It is a time of WAR. Nothing in this world is fair. You cannot be spoonfed anything, not under my watch. You need to prove yourself worthy. Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty because fear has no place under my watch. Prove it to me that you have it in you. In my watch this is going to be THE place for premier professional wrestling and you can take my word for it. ”
Regal then announces tournaments for the WWS Intercontinental, Tag Team and World Women’s Championships.
A six man round robin cup for the Intercontinental Championship which is named the Scott Hall Memorial Tournament.
Under a 15 minute time limit for each match, a win gets you 2 points, draw 1 and a lose none.
The participants of the cup are revealed to be : Kota Ibushi, Daniel Garcia, Matt Riddle, Cody Rhodes, Moose and Mike Bailey with Cody Rhodes vs Kota Ibushi and Matt Riddle vs Daniel Garcia slated for further down the card.
The Tag Team and Women’s Championships get 8 person tournaments.
The Tag Team eliminator will feature The Usos, Swerve in Our Glory, reDragon, The Acclaimed, The Gunns,G.O.D, Varsity Athletes and a mystery team.
Brackets for it are as follows
The Usos vs Swerve in Our Glory G.O.D. vs Varsity Athletes
reDragon vs The Acclaimed The Gunns vs TBD
The Women’s eliminator will feature Rhea Ripley, Charlotte Flair, Jordynne Grace, Athena, Toni Storm, Deonna Purrazzo, Alexa Bliss and Io Shirai.
Brackets for it are as follows Toni Storm vs Deonna Purrazzo Charlotte Flair vs Athena Rhea Ripley vs Jordynne Grace Alexa Bliss vs Io Shirai
He leaves as the crowd cheer and we cut to our commentators Mauro Ronallo and Nigel McGuinnes giving a rundown of the card later tonight.
It’s for the first ever match in WWS history, it’s Chris Danger making his debut against Trey Miguel.
Chris Danger vs Trey Miguel
(They approach each other for a collar and elbow tie up but Miguel quickly gets the better of the much inexperienced Danger as he puts him away with a german suplex. Danger gets back up and charges for a clothesline only to be ducked and hit by an enziguri by Miguel. Danger is perched on the ropes as Miguel goes for a clothesline but Danger reverses it and hits a backbody drop as Miguel lands on the outside hard on his back. Danger gets on the apron and hits a springboard moonsault to Miguel on the outside.
Danger sends him back in and as he rushes Miguel hits an elbow and looks for a superkick, Danger dodges and hits him with a V-Trigger. Miguel is staggered as danger runs the ropes and hits another V-Trigger. Danger goes into the corner to tune up the band for the superkick but Miguel ducks and catches him with a cutter. As Danger is on his knees, Miguel hits a meteora and goes for the win but only gets a two count. He continues the offense and locks in a sharpshooter but Danger escapes.
Following a headscissors, Miguel measures Danger for the Scorpion Kick but Danger blocks the kick, hits a knee, grabs the arm and hits the Taste of Danger. He then goes in the corner,tunes up the band again and hits the superkick and gets the pin)
Chris Danger def. Trey Miguel
Roman Reigns' theme plays as the entire Bloodline walks out with Paul Heyman. Roman, Jimmy, Jey and Solo, the personification of being in god mode. Heyman takes the mic, “Ladies and Gentlemen, My name is Paul Heyman and I am the Special Counsel for the most premier wrestling family that has ever existed. You are looking at peak specimens at the top of their game, physically and mentally. You are looking at Solo Sikoa, (points at Solo) the most exciting prospect this business has seen in years and a future face of the company. You are looking at Jimmy and Jey, the first tag team champions of WWS, they are the most prolific tag team in the business right now and they have no signs of stopping and finally you, ladies and gentlemen are looking at Roman Reigns. The biggest box office draw in professional wrestling. He is the head of the table, he is OUR Tribal Chief and he is going to be the first WWS World Heavyweight Champion, mark my words, not a prediction, it’s a spoiler. The Bloodline is here to conquer the pro wrestling landscape, which is something they have been molded by the elders to do since the very inception of their lives and they will not budge from the top because that’s where they belong.”
Roman takes the mic, “People, I’m here. I’m not here to impress anyone, I’m here to do what I do best, put butts in seats, sell t-shirts and rule what is rightfully, MY KINGDOM. I am not just the face of the WWS, I am the WWS. There are no sell out arenas without me, there is no publicity, no prime time television spot without me and all I want for giving everything to this business is for you to ACKNOWLEDGE ME”
Roman drops the mic and spreads his arms, looks up and closes his eyes just when
Swerve in Our Glory is here at the WWS
Keith Lee and Swerve Strickland, Swerve in Our Glory, the Usos’ opponents in the first round of the World Tag Team Eliminator.
Swerve says, “Look Roman, we respect you,we get it you’re a draw but that doesn’t mean all of us busting our asses day in, day out are worthless. You are not the WWS, all of us, everyone in the back, we make the WWS and let’s set the record straight, Paulie, they are not going to be the next tag team champions, hell they won’t even go past Round One.”
Some more back and forth starts and Roman makes a reference to Keith Lee’s illness and they both charge the ring and a brawl starts. Solo and Swerve fight, while Lee takes on the Usos. Solo hits Swerve with the Samoan Spike outside. Lee in the ring hits Jey with the Big Bang Catastrophe as he rolls out to Solo. Keith then grabs Jimmy and throws him outside onto Solo and Jey. As Keith taunts and the crowd cheers, he turns and runs straight into a spear from Roman Reigns. Reigns leaves with Heyman as William Regal comes out to make a match, It’s Keith Lee vs Jey Uso.
Keith Lee vs Jey Uso
(Swerve, Jimmy and Solo are ringside for this one. Jey walks towards Lee cautiously but Lee charges at him and pounces him forward. Jey is on the mat looking shocked but he gets right back and runs for a shoulder tackle but Lee barely budges, Jey runs the rope and goes for it again but Lee doesn’t budge, Lee runs the ropes and hits a shoulder tackle knocking Jey off his feet and back rolls back to his knees. Jey looks determined but Lee runs and hits a basement dropkick but Jey reverses and hits a stomp to the grounded Lee’s chest. Lee gets up but Jimmy hits a Lou Thesz Press. Uso throws expletives at Lee as gets up at the corner but Jey gets him with a running forearm smash in the corner. Lee is seated in the corner as Jey hits the running hip attack, Lee falls forward but gets up to his knees but Jey lands a superkick and goes for the pin but Lee kicks out. Jey goes to the top rope as Lee gets to his feet,Jey dives but Lee catches him into a big spinebuster and Jey rolls out of the ring. The crowd cheers as Lee hits the somersault senton onto Jey outside.
Lee picks up Jey and as he is about to throw him back in the ring Solo gets in his face. Lee gets face to face with Solo but Jey pushes Lee from behind and he lands straight into the steel steps. Swerve uses the steel steps to catapult himself and take Solo out. Meanwhile, Jey takes Lee back in the ring. Jey starts working on Lee’s leg and eventually locks the Tequila Sunrise. Lee manages to break the submission but as he gets up he is met by a superkick. Jey goes to the top but Lee manages to catch him and he climbs the turnbuckle as well. He looks to go for the Spanish fly but Jey punches him in the abdomen and kicks off one of his legs. Jey capitalizes and hits a Canadian destroyer. He goes for the pin but Lee kicks out.
Jey goes to the top rope again looking for the Uso splash but Lee moves out of the way and he immediately hits a lariat that takes Uso’s head off and some more traditional Lee offence. Lee has the crowd rallying for him as he picks up Jey for the Big Bang Catastrophe but Jimmy shows up on the apron to distract the ref. Lee drops Jey and throws him at Jimmy which knocks him up, Jey turns around only to get into a Spirit Bomb and that gets the win.)
Keith Lee def. Jey Uso
A vignette airs with Karrion Kross in a dungeon punching a punching bag while Scarlett does a voiceover where she narrates the story of the herald of doom and the last line is, “When the clock hits zenith, everyone will feel the WRATH of Kross.”
We cut back from the commercial to see Edge cutting a promo ahead of his match with John Cena.
"Now if this was any other show, I would say you just saw the best of me and I'm in the best shape of my career but that's not the case clearly. I'll be 50 soon. Seeing that look on my daughters' faces made me realize something. Wrestling is a drug and I'm a junkie and this thirst for the business will leave me crippled one day but I won't let that happen to my girls.
I know that I do not have enough time left in the ring, so now let me make myself clear. I've had enough fooling around but that's it! I'm about to do what I said I will when I came back three years ago. I WILL END MY CAREER ON MY TERMS! and the only place a career like mine deserves to end is right at the top. So anyone who comes between me and the world title is going to face the worst in me."
"Wrestling has more than one Royal Family"
Cody Rhodes makes an emphatic entrance for his round robin match against
KOTA IBUSHI
Kota Ibushi vs Cody Rhodes - (15 minute time limit draw)
(Ibushi and Rhodes with a handshake in the middle of the ring. They go for a collar and elbow tie up but Ibushi snaps and smashes Cody face first onto the mat. Cody gets up grabbing his jaw and smiling. They go at it again and Cody gets the headlock and punches Kota square in the face. Kota reels back and comes back with a flurry of forearm attacks on Cody and he pushes him away, Cody runs to him and Ibushi counters into a spanish fly. Kota goes for a canadian destroyer but Cody counters with an Alabama slam. Cody takes control with some ground and pound strikes and as he lets Kota go he kips up but Cody springboards off the middle rope to hit a Disaster kick. Cody then goes to the top rope to hit a swanton bomb, he goes for the pin but Kota kicks out. Kota gets up near the ropes but Cody clotheslines him out. The crowd is behind him as Cody runs the ropes and goes for a suicide dive but Ibushi catches him with a V-Trigger. Ibushi slides in the ring, runs the ropes and tries to hit the Sasuke special but Cody moves out of the way and Kota lands on his knees hard. Cody grabs his ankle and smashes his leg on the ringside floor.
Cody sends him inside and as Kota limps to his feet catches him with a lariat. Cody grabs one of his legs and hits a dragon screw. Cody taunts for the crowd as Kota limps up to his feet as Cody grabs him from behind and hits a Cross Rhodes. He goes for the pin but Kota instinctively kicks out at and jumps to his feet to a huge pop only to collapse immediately. Cody grunts and picks Kota up and sets him for the Cross Rhodes but Kota collapses. Cody then works his leg, constant submissions and strikes. Kota is almost lifeless as Cody grabs his leg to lock in the figure four leg lock. The commentators remind us on how only a minute is left on the clock. Kota struggles to reach the ropes when he fails he gets up and Cody headbutts him hard, Kota falls back, ref counts, he gets up and starts heabutting Cody like crazy drawing the crimson mask as the bell rings. )
Cody Rhodes and Kota Ibushi go to a time limit draw.
Cody is in disbelief as he moves towards Kota and helps him get back to his feet and back to gorilla up the ramp as the crowd applauds.
We come back to from commercial as it’s time for some women’s action as it’s TONI STORM VS DEONNA PURRAZZO
Toni Storm vs Deonna Purrazzo
(The bell rings as Purrazzo charges at Storm but runs straight into a bicycle knee strike. She gets back up and goes back but runs straight into a no motion headbutt. Deonna is on her knees as Toni runs and punts her in the abdomen. Toni drops down and hits a slap on Purrazzo and locks in a guillotine choke. After struggling in the lock for a bit, Deonna gets back to her feet with Toni on her and hits a big Northern Lights Suplex. Storm bounces off the mat and goes back to her knees as Purrazzo jams a knee into her back and she locks in a dragon sleeper. Storm gets back to her feet, jumps up and kicks Purrazzo in the head as she releases the hold as Storm hits a big roundhouse kick and Purrazzo falls on the middle rope and Storm springboards off the ropes and hits a guillotine leg drop. Storm taunts on the outside as she climbs on the apron and gets on the top rope and hits a big elbow drop. She goes for the pin but Purrazzo gets a shoulder up.
Storm runs at Purrazzo for a clothesline but Purrazzo reverses it with a DDT followed by a penalty kick. Purrazzo picks up Storm for a suplex and rolls through for another and another. THE THREE AMIGOS! Following that Purrazzo seeks the opportunity to lock her Cosa Nostra submission but Storm gets out so Purrazzo instead locks in a fujiwara armbar. Storm struggles in the lock for a bit but slowly reaches the ropes. Purrazzo continues on the offensive with stomps. Storm rolls out of the ring Purrazzo follows suit but runs into a big boot. Storm smashes Purrazzos face on the apron and sends her in. Storm then lands a hurricanrana.
Storm runs in for a lariat but Purrazzo intercepts with a spear. Storm is down as Purrazzo locks in the Cosa Nostra. Storm struggles for a bit and moves her body while panicking she finally gets her feet to touch the ropes. Purrazzo leaves as Storm takes the ropes to get up Purrazzo goes at her but Storm hits a superkick to the gut followed by another that knocks Purrazzo to her knees as Storm goes for a Storm Zero lifts her up but Purrazzo counters with the rana. Purrazzo goes towards Storm again only to get a big rolling elbow which knocks out Purrazzo as Storm hits the Storm Zero and gets the win.)
Toni Storm def. Deonna Purrazzo
We see footage of William Regal’s office from earlier where he is sitting but is interrupted by Grayson Waller. He says that he could forgive him for not including him for the World Title Tournament but not putting him in the Intercontinental title tournament is plain disrespectful for the next face of the company. Regal berates him and then says that Grayson is talented though a little delusional and that’s not all the belts as he then announces a fatal four way ladder match for the WWS Television Championship at Genesis. The first qualifying match does indeed feature Grayson Waller and it is tonight.
We cut back from the footage to see Waller already in the ring with the mic in his hand. He says that though he feels disrespected for being put in contention for the WWS Television Championship, he gets where management is coming from. They need an exceptional talent to put the new title on the map and Waller promises to make it even bigger than the World Championship and he also feels sorry for whoever his opponent is for their wretched luck. As he says this the guitar hits
'With your feet in the air and head on the ground....'
Orange Cassidy is here in the WWS!
Grayson Waller vs Orange Cassidy
(Waller leans on the corner and asks Cassidy to bring it. Cassidy is still in his aviators as he removes his jacket slowly and puts his hands up and into his pockets as the crowd pop hard. Waller is clearly pissed as he charges at Cassidy with a lariat but Cassidy lazily ducks. Waller goes after him again but Cassidy ducks again. Waller goes again but Cassidy ducks, runs the ropes but Waller goes for a back body drop but Cassidy lands on his feet as the crowd pops and reverses a punch with an arm drag with his hands in his pockets. Waller gets back up and gets into Cassidy’s face and that triggers Cassidy to hit his KICKS OF DOOM. Waller is disgusted as he slaps Cassidy out of frustration and that makes the aviators fall off his face. Cassidy looks up to Waller and hits a front dropkick as Waller falls outside the ring and Cassidy hits a big suicide dive to the outside. He sends Waller inside but as he gets back in Waller hits a big boot knocking out Cassidy. He picks him up and gets him into the electric chair position into a big back suplex. Cassidy gets up with the momentum of the impact runs into a jumping sidekick. Waller measures Cassidy and hits a big famouser and goes for the pin but Cassidy kicks out. Waller is frustrated as he picks up the aviators and wears them himself and puts his hands in the pockets but as he turns around Cassidy leaps and hits an Orange Punch on his face which breaks the aviators. Cassidy goes for the pin, 1.2.3. )
Orange Cassidy def. Grayson Waller to enter the TV Title Ladder Match
Cassidy’s music hits as he celebrates but he is attacked from behind by…… Moose!
Moose clobbers Cassidy and hits him with a big Spear. When he’s done with Cassidy we hear the music of one notable prick.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN
MJF is here at the WWS. He enters the rings and spreads his arms to soak in the heat. MJF grabs a pair of brass knuckles from his pocket and hits a really bad looking Orange Punch to Orange Cassidy and the segment ends with MJF and Moose standing tall.
Before we cut to commercial we see a vignette of John Cena hyping up his WWS debut in the main event tonight.
We cut back from commercials as it’s time for another Intercontinental Title Tournament Match.
It’s Matt Riddle vs Daniel Garcia.
Matt Riddle vs Daniel Garcia
(The two gladiators walk towards each other and start hitting each other with forearm strikes to each other and Garcia wins the forearm-off and hits a big belly-to-belly suplex Riddle gets up and hits a big german suplex. Riddle runs right into a big roundhouse kick, he staggers and hits a big spear. Riddle then hits a big senton on Garcia. Riddle gets him up in a fireman carry and hits a Bro to Sleep and another German Suplex and goes for the pin but Garcia kicks out. Riddle grabs Garcia and lifts him up for a gutwrench suplex and another and another. Garcia is still on his knees as Riddle grabs him for a deadlift sitout powerbomb but Garcia gets to his feet with the impact only to run into a final flash knee strike. Riddle gears up and tries to hit a spear but Garcia rolls through to lock in a guillotine choke but Riddle tries to escape seeing this Garcia turns the guillotine into a suplex hold and slams Riddle hard on his head with a brainbuster.
Garcia capitalizes and hits a big german dropping Riddle on his head again. Riddle is down as Garcia mounts him and starts bashing his head in with a barrage of elbows. Garcia is fired up as he goes to the top rope and tries to hit an elbow drop but misses as Riddle lands a senton on his back. Riddle climbs the top rope and goes for the Floating Bro but Garcia gets his knees up, Riddle is still standing as Garcia charges and hits a spinning back elbow to the back of Riddle’s head. With Riddle down, Garcia approaches his prone body and locks in a dragon sleeper. Riddle seems to be fading but gains consciousness and gets up lifts Garcia from the dragon sleeper position and hits a Bro Derek. He goes for the pin and gets the three counts. )
Matt Riddle def. Daniel Garcia
The commentators give us a heads up of the next week’s card
Swerve in Our Glory vs The Usos
Darby Allin vs Jonathan Gresham
Mike Bailey vs Moose
We hear from Rhea Ripley
It’s Main Event Time
JOHN CENA and EDGE both make emphatic entrances for the main event
John Cena vs Edge
(Cena and Edge lock up in the middle of the ring and they both get in a handshake. They lock up as Edge pushes Cena into the corner and starts kneeing him in the gut but the ref breaks it up. The lock up again as this time Cena gets him to the corner and hits knees to the gut. They lock up a third time with Edge pushing him to a corner but Cena punches him and explodes off with a big clothesline. This is followed by a suplex as Edge gets up grabbing his back but ducks a clothesline to hit Cena with a big boot which pushes Cena but he retaliates with a dropkick. Edge rolls out as Cena goes to follow him but Edge kicks him in the gut and smashes his face on the apron. Edge punches Cena but he no sells it and grabs Edge’s face to smash it on the turnbuckle. Edge gets busted open and in the rage he pushes Cena into the steel steps and hits a big boot sandwiching Cena’s head in between.
Edge sends Cena back in as he collects himself in the corner, Edge charges but Cena trips to go face first onto the middle turnbuckle. Cena grabs him from behind and hits a back suplex. Cena goes for the pin but Edge kicks out. Cena then heads to the top rope as Edge gets back up but Cena hits a leg drop on Edge. The crowd rallies behind him as he hits the four moves of doom. Shoulder tackle, shoulder tackle, duck and the protobomb. Cena raises his arm up, runs the ropes and hits the five knuckle shuffle. Edge gets up as Cena hits the AA. Cena goes for the pin. 1, 2 but Edge kicks out. Cena picks him up for another AA but Edge counters and hits an Impaler DDT. Edge goes to the top rope as Cena gets to his feet, he goes for a crossbody but Cena catches him in mid air and goes for the AA but Edge slides off his shoulder ducks a clothesline and hits a spear. He goes for the pin but Cena barely kicks out.
Edge is frustrated as he locks Cena in the Edgecator but Cena survives in it. Frustrated, Edge turns it into the STF. Cena struggles but manages to reach the ropes. Edge is pulled by the referee trying to break the submission. Edge goes into the corner looking for a spear just when the lullaby we heard in the press conference plays again. Edge looks shocked but ignores it and runs for the spear when Cena trips him catches the leg and locks in the STF. Edge withers in the submission for a bit but eventually taps out.)
John Cena def. Edge
Edge gets to his feet when we see a man in a mask on the titantron. He removes it to reveal BRAY WYATT.
He says just two lines
‘THE DARK FATHER AWAITS, HE WILL PROTECT YOU’
The lights go off and they come back to a similar mask to Wyatt’s lying in front of a kneeling Edge.
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WWS Ground Zero
All State Arena, Rosemont, Illnois
The show kicks off with William Regal inside the ring, he gets a huge reaction from the crowd. He grabs a microphone and says, “This is WAR. It is a time of WAR. Nothing in this world is fair. You cannot be spoonfed anything, not under my watch. You need to prove yourself worthy. Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty because fear has no place under my watch. Prove it to me that you have it in you. In my watch this is going to be THE place for premier professional wrestling and you can take my word for it. ”
Regal then announces tournaments for the WWS Intercontinental, Tag Team and World Women’s Championships.
A six man round robin cup for the Intercontinental Championship which is named the Scott Hall Memorial Tournament.
Under a 15 minute time limit for each match, a win gets you 2 points, draw 1 and a lose none.
The participants of the cup are revealed to be : Kota Ibushi, Daniel Garcia, Matt Riddle, Cody Rhodes, Moose and Mike Bailey with Cody Rhodes vs Kota Ibushi and Matt Riddle vs Daniel Garcia slated for further down the card.
The Tag Team and Women’s Championships get 8 person tournaments.
The Tag Team eliminator will feature The Usos, Swerve in Our Glory, reDragon, The Acclaimed, The Gunns,G.O.D, Varsity Athletes and a mystery team.
Brackets for it are as follows
The Usos vs Swerve in Our Glory G.O.D. vs Varsity Athletes
reDragon vs The Acclaimed The Gunns vs TBD
The Women’s eliminator will feature Rhea Ripley, Charlotte Flair, Jordynne Grace, Athena, Toni Storm, Deonna Purrazzo, Alexa Bliss and Io Shirai.
Brackets for it are as follows Toni Storm vs Deonna Purrazzo Charlotte Flair vs Athena Rhea Ripley vs Jordynne Grace Alexa Bliss vs Io Shirai
He leaves as the crowd cheer and we cut to our commentators Mauro Ronallo and Nigel McGuinnes giving a rundown of the card later tonight.
It’s for the first ever match in WWS history, it’s Chris Danger making his debut against Trey Miguel.
Chris Danger vs Trey Miguel
(They approach each other for a collar and elbow tie up but Miguel quickly gets the better of the much inexperienced Danger as he puts him away with a german suplex. Danger gets back up and charges for a clothesline only to be ducked and hit by an enziguri by Miguel. Danger is perched on the ropes as Miguel goes for a clothesline but Danger reverses it and hits a backbody drop as Miguel lands on the outside hard on his back. Danger gets on the apron and hits a springboard moonsault to Miguel on the outside.
Danger sends him back in and as he rushes Miguel hits an elbow and looks for a superkick, Danger dodges and hits him with a V-Trigger. Miguel is staggered as danger runs the ropes and hits another V-Trigger. Danger goes into the corner to tune up the band for the superkick but Miguel ducks and catches him with a cutter. As Danger is on his knees, Miguel hits a meteora and goes for the win but only gets a two count. He continues the offense and locks in a sharpshooter but Danger escapes.
Following a headscissors, Miguel measures Danger for the Scorpion Kick but Danger blocks the kick, hits a knee, grabs the arm and hits the Taste of Danger. He then goes in the corner,tunes up the band again and hits the superkick and gets the pin)
Chris Danger def. Trey Miguel
Roman Reigns' theme plays as the entire Bloodline walks out with Paul Heyman. Roman, Jimmy, Jey and Solo, the personification of being in god mode. Heyman takes the mic, “Ladies and Gentlemen, My name is Paul Heyman and I am the Special Counsel for the most premier wrestling family that has ever existed. You are looking at peak specimens at the top of their game, physically and mentally. You are looking at Solo Sikoa, (points at Solo) the most exciting prospect this business has seen in years and a future face of the company. You are looking at Jimmy and Jey, the first tag team champions of WWS, they are the most prolific tag team in the business right now and they have no signs of stopping and finally you, ladies and gentlemen are looking at Roman Reigns. The biggest box office draw in professional wrestling. He is the head of the table, he is OUR Tribal Chief and he is going to be the first WWS World Heavyweight Champion, mark my words, not a prediction, it’s a spoiler. The Bloodline is here to conquer the pro wrestling landscape, which is something they have been molded by the elders to do since the very inception of their lives and they will not budge from the top because that’s where they belong.”
Roman takes the mic, “People, I’m here. I’m not here to impress anyone, I’m here to do what I do best, put butts in seats, sell t-shirts and rule what is rightfully, MY KINGDOM. I am not just the face of the WWS, I am the WWS. There are no sell out arenas without me, there is no publicity, no prime time television spot without me and all I want for giving everything to this business is for you to ACKNOWLEDGE ME”
Roman drops the mic and spreads his arms, looks up and closes his eyes just when
Swerve in Our Glory is here at the WWS
Keith Lee and Swerve Strickland, Swerve in Our Glory, the Usos’ opponents in the first round of the World Tag Team Eliminator.
Swerve says, “Look Roman, we respect you,we get it you’re a draw but that doesn’t mean all of us busting our asses day in, day out are worthless. You are not the WWS, all of us, everyone in the back, we make the WWS and let’s set the record straight, Paulie, they are not going to be the next tag team champions, hell they won’t even go past Round One.”
Some more back and forth starts and Roman makes a reference to Keith Lee’s illness and they both charge the ring and a brawl starts. Solo and Swerve fight, while Lee takes on the Usos. Solo hits Swerve with the Samoan Spike outside. Lee in the ring hits Jey with the Big Bang Catastrophe as he rolls out to Solo. Keith then grabs Jimmy and throws him outside onto Solo and Jey. As Keith taunts and the crowd cheers, he turns and runs straight into a spear from Roman Reigns. Reigns leaves with Heyman as William Regal comes out to make a match, It’s Keith Lee vs Jey Uso.
Keith Lee vs Jey Uso
(Swerve, Jimmy and Solo are ringside for this one. Jey walks towards Lee cautiously but Lee charges at him and pounces him forward. Jey is on the mat looking shocked but he gets right back and runs for a shoulder tackle but Lee barely budges, Jey runs the rope and goes for it again but Lee doesn’t budge, Lee runs the ropes and hits a shoulder tackle knocking Jey off his feet and back rolls back to his knees. Jey looks determined but Lee runs and hits a basement dropkick but Jey reverses and hits a stomp to the grounded Lee’s chest. Lee gets up but Jimmy hits a Lou Thesz Press. Uso throws expletives at Lee as gets up at the corner but Jey gets him with a running forearm smash in the corner. Lee is seated in the corner as Jey hits the running hip attack, Lee falls forward but gets up to his knees but Jey lands a superkick and goes for the pin but Lee kicks out. Jey goes to the top rope as Lee gets to his feet,Jey dives but Lee catches him into a big spinebuster and Jey rolls out of the ring. The crowd cheers as Lee hits the somersault senton onto Jey outside.
Lee picks up Jey and as he is about to throw him back in the ring Solo gets in his face. Lee gets face to face with Solo but Jey pushes Lee from behind and he lands straight into the steel steps. Swerve uses the steel steps to catapult himself and take Solo out. Meanwhile, Jey takes Lee back in the ring. Jey starts working on Lee’s leg and eventually locks the Tequila Sunrise. Lee manages to break the submission but as he gets up he is met by a superkick. Jey goes to the top but Lee manages to catch him and he climbs the turnbuckle as well. He looks to go for the Spanish fly but Jey punches him in the abdomen and kicks off one of his legs. Jey capitalizes and hits a Canadian destroyer. He goes for the pin but Lee kicks out.
Jey goes to the top rope again looking for the Uso splash but Lee moves out of the way and he immediately hits a lariat that takes Uso’s head off and some more traditional Lee offence. Lee has the crowd rallying for him as he picks up Jey for the Big Bang Catastrophe but Jimmy shows up on the apron to distract the ref. Lee drops Jey and throws him at Jimmy which knocks him up, Jey turns around only to get into a Spirit Bomb and that gets the win.)
Keith Lee def. Jey Uso
A vignette airs with Karrion Kross in a dungeon punching a punching bag while Scarlett does a voiceover where she narrates the story of the herald of doom and the last line is, “When the clock hits zenith, everyone will feel the WRATH of Kross.”
We cut back from the commercial to see Edge cutting a promo ahead of his match with John Cena.
"Now if this was any other show, I would say you just saw the best of me and I'm in the best shape of my career but that's not the case clearly. I'll be 50 soon. Seeing that look on my daughters' faces made me realize something. Wrestling is a drug and I'm a junkie and this thirst for the business will leave me crippled one day but I won't let that happen to my girls.
I know that I do not have enough time left in the ring, so now let me make myself clear. I've had enough fooling around but that's it! I'm about to do what I said I will when I came back three years ago. I WILL END MY CAREER ON MY TERMS! and the only place a career like mine deserves to end is right at the top. So anyone who comes between me and the world title is going to face the worst in me."
"Wrestling has more than one Royal Family"
Cody Rhodes makes an emphatic entrance for his round robin match against
KOTA IBUSHI
Kota Ibushi vs Cody Rhodes - (15 minute time limit draw)
(Ibushi and Rhodes with a handshake in the middle of the ring. They go for a collar and elbow tie up but Ibushi snaps and smashes Cody face first onto the mat. Cody gets up grabbing his jaw and smiling. They go at it again and Cody gets the headlock and punches Kota square in the face. Kota reels back and comes back with a flurry of forearm attacks on Cody and he pushes him away, Cody runs to him and Ibushi counters into a spanish fly. Kota goes for a canadian destroyer but Cody counters with an Alabama slam. Cody takes control with some ground and pound strikes and as he lets Kota go he kips up but Cody springboards off the middle rope to hit a Disaster kick. Cody then goes to the top rope to hit a swanton bomb, he goes for the pin but Kota kicks out. Kota gets up near the ropes but Cody clotheslines him out. The crowd is behind him as Cody runs the ropes and goes for a suicide dive but Ibushi catches him with a V-Trigger. Ibushi slides in the ring, runs the ropes and tries to hit the Sasuke special but Cody moves out of the way and Kota lands on his knees hard. Cody grabs his ankle and smashes his leg on the ringside floor.
Cody sends him inside and as Kota limps to his feet catches him with a lariat. Cody grabs one of his legs and hits a dragon screw. Cody taunts for the crowd as Kota limps up to his feet as Cody grabs him from behind and hits a Cross Rhodes. He goes for the pin but Kota instinctively kicks out at and jumps to his feet to a huge pop only to collapse immediately. Cody grunts and picks Kota up and sets him for the Cross Rhodes but Kota collapses. Cody then works his leg, constant submissions and strikes. Kota is almost lifeless as Cody grabs his leg to lock in the figure four leg lock. The commentators remind us on how only a minute is left on the clock. Kota struggles to reach the ropes when he fails he gets up and Cody headbutts him hard, Kota falls back, ref counts, he gets up and starts heabutting Cody like crazy drawing the crimson mask as the bell rings. )
Cody Rhodes and Kota Ibushi go to a time limit draw.
Cody is in disbelief as he moves towards Kota and helps him get back to his feet and back to gorilla up the ramp as the crowd applauds.
We come back to from commercial as it’s time for some women’s action as it’s TONI STORM VS DEONNA PURRAZZO
Toni Storm vs Deonna Purrazzo
(The bell rings as Purrazzo charges at Storm but runs straight into a bicycle knee strike. She gets back up and goes back but runs straight into a no motion headbutt. Deonna is on her knees as Toni runs and punts her in the abdomen. Toni drops down and hits a slap on Purrazzo and locks in a guillotine choke. After struggling in the lock for a bit, Deonna gets back to her feet with Toni on her and hits a big Northern Lights Suplex. Storm bounces off the mat and goes back to her knees as Purrazzo jams a knee into her back and she locks in a dragon sleeper. Storm gets back to her feet, jumps up and kicks Purrazzo in the head as she releases the hold as Storm hits a big roundhouse kick and Purrazzo falls on the middle rope and Storm springboards off the ropes and hits a guillotine leg drop. Storm taunts on the outside as she climbs on the apron and gets on the top rope and hits a big elbow drop. She goes for the pin but Purrazzo gets a shoulder up.
Storm runs at Purrazzo for a clothesline but Purrazzo reverses it with a DDT followed by a penalty kick. Purrazzo picks up Storm for a suplex and rolls through for another and another. THE THREE AMIGOS! Following that Purrazzo seeks the opportunity to lock her Cosa Nostra submission but Storm gets out so Purrazzo instead locks in a fujiwara armbar. Storm struggles in the lock for a bit but slowly reaches the ropes. Purrazzo continues on the offensive with stomps. Storm rolls out of the ring Purrazzo follows suit but runs into a big boot. Storm smashes Purrazzos face on the apron and sends her in. Storm then lands a hurricanrana.
Storm runs in for a lariat but Purrazzo intercepts with a spear. Storm is down as Purrazzo locks in the Cosa Nostra. Storm struggles for a bit and moves her body while panicking she finally gets her feet to touch the ropes. Purrazzo leaves as Storm takes the ropes to get up Purrazzo goes at her but Storm hits a superkick to the gut followed by another that knocks Purrazzo to her knees as Storm goes for a Storm Zero lifts her up but Purrazzo counters with the rana. Purrazzo goes towards Storm again only to get a big rolling elbow which knocks out Purrazzo as Storm hits the Storm Zero and gets the win.)
Toni Storm def. Deonna Purrazzo
We see footage of William Regal’s office from earlier where he is sitting but is interrupted by Grayson Waller. He says that he could forgive him for not including him for the World Title Tournament but not putting him in the Intercontinental title tournament is plain disrespectful for the next face of the company. Regal berates him and then says that Grayson is talented though a little delusional and that’s not all the belts as he then announces a fatal four way ladder match for the WWS Television Championship at Genesis. The first qualifying match does indeed feature Grayson Waller and it is tonight.
We cut back from the footage to see Waller already in the ring with the mic in his hand. He says that though he feels disrespected for being put in contention for the WWS Television Championship, he gets where management is coming from. They need an exceptional talent to put the new title on the map and Waller promises to make it even bigger than the World Championship and he also feels sorry for whoever his opponent is for their wretched luck. As he says this the guitar hits
'With your feet in the air and head on the ground....'
Orange Cassidy is here in the WWS!
Grayson Waller vs Orange Cassidy
(Waller leans on the corner and asks Cassidy to bring it. Cassidy is still in his aviators as he removes his jacket slowly and puts his hands up and into his pockets as the crowd pop hard. Waller is clearly pissed as he charges at Cassidy with a lariat but Cassidy lazily ducks. Waller goes after him again but Cassidy ducks again. Waller goes again but Cassidy ducks, runs the ropes but Waller goes for a back body drop but Cassidy lands on his feet as the crowd pops and reverses a punch with an arm drag with his hands in his pockets. Waller gets back up and gets into Cassidy’s face and that triggers Cassidy to hit his KICKS OF DOOM. Waller is disgusted as he slaps Cassidy out of frustration and that makes the aviators fall off his face. Cassidy looks up to Waller and hits a front dropkick as Waller falls outside the ring and Cassidy hits a big suicide dive to the outside. He sends Waller inside but as he gets back in Waller hits a big boot knocking out Cassidy. He picks him up and gets him into the electric chair position into a big back suplex. Cassidy gets up with the momentum of the impact runs into a jumping sidekick. Waller measures Cassidy and hits a big famouser and goes for the pin but Cassidy kicks out. Waller is frustrated as he picks up the aviators and wears them himself and puts his hands in the pockets but as he turns around Cassidy leaps and hits an Orange Punch on his face which breaks the aviators. Cassidy goes for the pin, 1.2.3. )
Orange Cassidy def. Grayson Waller to enter the TV Title Ladder Match
Cassidy’s music hits as he celebrates but he is attacked from behind by…… Moose!
Moose clobbers Cassidy and hits him with a big Spear. When he’s done with Cassidy we hear the music of one notable prick.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN
MJF is here at the WWS. He enters the rings and spreads his arms to soak in the heat. MJF grabs a pair of brass knuckles from his pocket and hits a really bad looking Orange Punch to Orange Cassidy and the segment ends with MJF and Moose standing tall.
Before we cut to commercial we see a vignette of John Cena hyping up his WWS debut in the main event tonight.
We cut back from commercials as it’s time for another Intercontinental Title Tournament Match.
It’s Matt Riddle vs Daniel Garcia.
Matt Riddle vs Daniel Garcia
(The two gladiators walk towards each other and start hitting each other with forearm strikes to each other and Garcia wins the forearm-off and hits a big belly-to-belly suplex Riddle gets up and hits a big german suplex. Riddle runs right into a big roundhouse kick, he staggers and hits a big spear. Riddle then hits a big senton on Garcia. Riddle gets him up in a fireman carry and hits a Bro to Sleep and another German Suplex and goes for the pin but Garcia kicks out. Riddle grabs Garcia and lifts him up for a gutwrench suplex and another and another. Garcia is still on his knees as Riddle grabs him for a deadlift sitout powerbomb but Garcia gets to his feet with the impact only to run into a final flash knee strike. Riddle gears up and tries to hit a spear but Garcia rolls through to lock in a guillotine choke but Riddle tries to escape seeing this Garcia turns the guillotine into a suplex hold and slams Riddle hard on his head with a brainbuster.
Garcia capitalizes and hits a big german dropping Riddle on his head again. Riddle is down as Garcia mounts him and starts bashing his head in with a barrage of elbows. Garcia is fired up as he goes to the top rope and tries to hit an elbow drop but misses as Riddle lands a senton on his back. Riddle climbs the top rope and goes for the Floating Bro but Garcia gets his knees up, Riddle is still standing as Garcia charges and hits a spinning back elbow to the back of Riddle’s head. With Riddle down, Garcia approaches his prone body and locks in a dragon sleeper. Riddle seems to be fading but gains consciousness and gets up lifts Garcia from the dragon sleeper position and hits a Bro Derek. He goes for the pin and gets the three counts. )
Matt Riddle def. Daniel Garcia
The commentators give us a heads up of the next week’s card
Swerve in Our Glory vs The Usos
Darby Allin vs Jonathan Gresham
Mike Bailey vs Moose
We hear from Rhea Ripley
It’s Main Event Time
JOHN CENA and EDGE both make emphatic entrances for the main event
John Cena vs Edge
(Cena and Edge lock up in the middle of the ring and they both get in a handshake. They lock up as Edge pushes Cena into the corner and starts kneeing him in the gut but the ref breaks it up. The lock up again as this time Cena gets him to the corner and hits knees to the gut. They lock up a third time with Edge pushing him to a corner but Cena punches him and explodes off with a big clothesline. This is followed by a suplex as Edge gets up grabbing his back but ducks a clothesline to hit Cena with a big boot which pushes Cena but he retaliates with a dropkick. Edge rolls out as Cena goes to follow him but Edge kicks him in the gut and smashes his face on the apron. Edge punches Cena but he no sells it and grabs Edge’s face to smash it on the turnbuckle. Edge gets busted open and in the rage he pushes Cena into the steel steps and hits a big boot sandwiching Cena’s head in between.
Edge sends Cena back in as he collects himself in the corner, Edge charges but Cena trips to go face first onto the middle turnbuckle. Cena grabs him from behind and hits a back suplex. Cena goes for the pin but Edge kicks out. Cena then heads to the top rope as Edge gets back up but Cena hits a leg drop on Edge. The crowd rallies behind him as he hits the four moves of doom. Shoulder tackle, shoulder tackle, duck and the protobomb. Cena raises his arm up, runs the ropes and hits the five knuckle shuffle. Edge gets up as Cena hits the AA. Cena goes for the pin. 1, 2 but Edge kicks out. Cena picks him up for another AA but Edge counters and hits an Impaler DDT. Edge goes to the top rope as Cena gets to his feet, he goes for a crossbody but Cena catches him in mid air and goes for the AA but Edge slides off his shoulder ducks a clothesline and hits a spear. He goes for the pin but Cena barely kicks out.
Edge is frustrated as he locks Cena in the Edgecator but Cena survives in it. Frustrated, Edge turns it into the STF. Cena struggles but manages to reach the ropes. Edge is pulled by the referee trying to break the submission. Edge goes into the corner looking for a spear just when the lullaby we heard in the press conference plays again. Edge looks shocked but ignores it and runs for the spear when Cena trips him catches the leg and locks in the STF. Edge withers in the submission for a bit but eventually taps out.)
John Cena def. Edge
Edge gets to his feet when we see a man in a mask on the titantron. He removes it to reveal BRAY WYATT.
He says just two lines
‘THE DARK FATHER AWAITS, HE WILL PROTECT YOU’
The lights go off and they come back to a similar mask to Wyatt’s lying in front of a kneeling Edge.
2023.03.22 20:59 Jolenena help for some cute black boots
Hi! So iv always worn some sort of gym shoe/nike air max, but I have this all black fit and I wanted to know if any short boots (like the ones that look like dr.martins/ the classic black boot u possibly see influencers wear) that youve tried that doesnt have a huge platform/doesnt hurt when wearing them/not having to break them alot (idk if that makes sense) & something reasonability priced.
I havent had any experience with any boot lol(like the dr.martin type), and I dont want to have to go through multiple shoes since I dont wear those types of shoes all the time. Thank you if you read this C: i hope this makes sense
submitted by Jolenena to avesafe [link] [comments]
I havent had any experience with any boot lol(like the dr.martin type), and I dont want to have to go through multiple shoes since I dont wear those types of shoes all the time. Thank you if you read this C: i hope this makes sense
2023.03.22 20:51 VolkerBach Peasants Gorging on Kraut (c. 1410)
https://www.culina-vetus.de/2023/03/22/wittenwilers-wedding-feast-vi-kraut/
Another part from Der Ring: A course of greens served with bacon and consumed with no manners at all.
Now the cabbage (chraut) was ready, covered in bacon (speck) and fried lardons (greuben). It was served together with fish. The servants behaved in a courtly fashion, holding the bowls in front of their bellies, resting their fingers some on them, some in them, some spilling half, and serving the food to the guests as though strewing grass to a calf in the manger or anywhere. The gentlemen thanked them for it. Lastersak (lit. sack of vices) was very hungry. He looked around like a bull and called for a spoon. The others shouted “one for us, too!”. Some found spoons, others did not. They took their hands for ladles and ate as mannerly as the others.
Behold, such a brawl arose around the cabbage (chraut) and the sauce that you have never seen such chasing and rushing in our lifetime. You could see more than ten spoons stab like spears into each bowl. They especially sought out the lardons, going after them with their oars. Then Twerg (lit. Dwarf) at one point threw so much bacon into his mouth that his beard was suddenly all dripping with fat (smaltzich). Count Purkhardt did damage to all: He held a hand full of cabbage and moved it towards his mouth, calling to God for the weather to remain fine until the harvest was brought in. But how Chnotz took his revenge: He stirred about the bowl until his spoon broke. So he went in with both hands and grabbed cabbage on both sides, a big handful of food. “Be it fair weather or foul” he said at that point, “You must go into my gullet!”
Geri picked up the bowl and took a mighty gulp. She said “God grant you die of stench! (müesst derstinken). You have eaten (frass) it up, so I shall drink it!” and sat down again so that a great part of splashed out again. Oh, how she coughed! The others came to her rightaway and drank it up – I don’t know how – so that the tablecloth stayed dry. But what else there was, leaves, grass, breadcrumbs, crusts and bones, they left lying everywhere. Some also lingered in a courtly manner, bent over their bowls so their path was short, for their loads were heavy. And they had yet another reason for doing so: Should anything fall off their spoons or out of their mouths, it would fall right back into the bowl. Their mouths (mäuler) were wide open the entire time. Then they also did this: Whenever their fingers became wet, they waved them about over the cabbage quite deftly and wiped the remainder off on their boots and their garments. They had to do this because they had no napkins (hanttuoch) before them. They they immediately reached out again. They were also pleased by another thing: Whenever a diner dropped something to the ground, be it chewed or not, it had to be picked up and placed before all of them again, except if it had landed on his clothes. Then he was free to keep the morsels as he pleased.
There isn’t really very much novel to say here. The manners on display, the greed and vulgarity, are meant to amuse a more refined readership, but they are very unlikely to be anything like a real peasant banquet. An illustrative point, especially in contrast with the fish course, is how abundant the chraut is. It’s a lower-class dish, a catchall term that can refer to any leafy greens, but usually means cabbage. This would likely have been available in quantity, elevated to a festive status with copious amounts of meat. Grieben, fried lardons or cracklings, are mentioned specifically. These are mentioned quite frequently as toppings for various vegetable dishes, a quick and attractive way to enrich them on meat days. Clearly, the meat is the desirable part, the things that people fight over, and though the behaviour is unlikely to have been common, the sense of their value is probably accurate. People craved meat and fat.
At the end of this section, diners are described wiping greasy hands on their clothes and boots in the absence of napkins. This could be simple calumny, another disgusting thing we imagine peasants doing, but there may be more to it. Leather shoes needed regular greasing to stay waterproof. A small bowl of fat would be provided in any household to do so, and the German saying “ins Fettnäpfchen treten“ for a faux pas originates from the consequences of accidentally upending one. The fat used for this was unschlitt, considered unfit for human consumption, not food-grade schmalz. However, in a society where fat was scarce and coveted, reserving some of it for technical purposes must have been contentious and the boundary between technical and culinary fats more blurry than our sources generally like to admit. transgressing it may hint at a broader taboo.
Heinrich Wittenwiler‘s massive poem ‚Der Ring‘ (the ring) is a somewhat puzzling piece of literature. Most likely produced in Constance around 1408-10, it tells a complex story of love, adventure, and deceit set in a peasant environment exploited for comedy value, but seems to have a genuine didactic purpose, though one often enough achieved by satirically describing the very opposite of desired conduct. In this, it resembles later Grobianic literature. I will limit myself to translating the parts that are relevant to food and table manners, but would advise anyone with enough command of German to read it in its entirety.
submitted by VolkerBach to CulinaryHistory [link] [comments]
Another part from Der Ring: A course of greens served with bacon and consumed with no manners at all.
Now the cabbage (chraut) was ready, covered in bacon (speck) and fried lardons (greuben). It was served together with fish. The servants behaved in a courtly fashion, holding the bowls in front of their bellies, resting their fingers some on them, some in them, some spilling half, and serving the food to the guests as though strewing grass to a calf in the manger or anywhere. The gentlemen thanked them for it. Lastersak (lit. sack of vices) was very hungry. He looked around like a bull and called for a spoon. The others shouted “one for us, too!”. Some found spoons, others did not. They took their hands for ladles and ate as mannerly as the others.
Behold, such a brawl arose around the cabbage (chraut) and the sauce that you have never seen such chasing and rushing in our lifetime. You could see more than ten spoons stab like spears into each bowl. They especially sought out the lardons, going after them with their oars. Then Twerg (lit. Dwarf) at one point threw so much bacon into his mouth that his beard was suddenly all dripping with fat (smaltzich). Count Purkhardt did damage to all: He held a hand full of cabbage and moved it towards his mouth, calling to God for the weather to remain fine until the harvest was brought in. But how Chnotz took his revenge: He stirred about the bowl until his spoon broke. So he went in with both hands and grabbed cabbage on both sides, a big handful of food. “Be it fair weather or foul” he said at that point, “You must go into my gullet!”
Geri picked up the bowl and took a mighty gulp. She said “God grant you die of stench! (müesst derstinken). You have eaten (frass) it up, so I shall drink it!” and sat down again so that a great part of splashed out again. Oh, how she coughed! The others came to her rightaway and drank it up – I don’t know how – so that the tablecloth stayed dry. But what else there was, leaves, grass, breadcrumbs, crusts and bones, they left lying everywhere. Some also lingered in a courtly manner, bent over their bowls so their path was short, for their loads were heavy. And they had yet another reason for doing so: Should anything fall off their spoons or out of their mouths, it would fall right back into the bowl. Their mouths (mäuler) were wide open the entire time. Then they also did this: Whenever their fingers became wet, they waved them about over the cabbage quite deftly and wiped the remainder off on their boots and their garments. They had to do this because they had no napkins (hanttuoch) before them. They they immediately reached out again. They were also pleased by another thing: Whenever a diner dropped something to the ground, be it chewed or not, it had to be picked up and placed before all of them again, except if it had landed on his clothes. Then he was free to keep the morsels as he pleased.
There isn’t really very much novel to say here. The manners on display, the greed and vulgarity, are meant to amuse a more refined readership, but they are very unlikely to be anything like a real peasant banquet. An illustrative point, especially in contrast with the fish course, is how abundant the chraut is. It’s a lower-class dish, a catchall term that can refer to any leafy greens, but usually means cabbage. This would likely have been available in quantity, elevated to a festive status with copious amounts of meat. Grieben, fried lardons or cracklings, are mentioned specifically. These are mentioned quite frequently as toppings for various vegetable dishes, a quick and attractive way to enrich them on meat days. Clearly, the meat is the desirable part, the things that people fight over, and though the behaviour is unlikely to have been common, the sense of their value is probably accurate. People craved meat and fat.
At the end of this section, diners are described wiping greasy hands on their clothes and boots in the absence of napkins. This could be simple calumny, another disgusting thing we imagine peasants doing, but there may be more to it. Leather shoes needed regular greasing to stay waterproof. A small bowl of fat would be provided in any household to do so, and the German saying “ins Fettnäpfchen treten“ for a faux pas originates from the consequences of accidentally upending one. The fat used for this was unschlitt, considered unfit for human consumption, not food-grade schmalz. However, in a society where fat was scarce and coveted, reserving some of it for technical purposes must have been contentious and the boundary between technical and culinary fats more blurry than our sources generally like to admit. transgressing it may hint at a broader taboo.
Heinrich Wittenwiler‘s massive poem ‚Der Ring‘ (the ring) is a somewhat puzzling piece of literature. Most likely produced in Constance around 1408-10, it tells a complex story of love, adventure, and deceit set in a peasant environment exploited for comedy value, but seems to have a genuine didactic purpose, though one often enough achieved by satirically describing the very opposite of desired conduct. In this, it resembles later Grobianic literature. I will limit myself to translating the parts that are relevant to food and table manners, but would advise anyone with enough command of German to read it in its entirety.
2023.03.22 20:08 missfourthofjuly Friction wounds from shoes - tips?
Hi everyone! I have hEDS and while my joints and comorbidities usually cause me way more grief than my skin in my day-to-day life, one thing that I’ve always really struggled with is the fact that virtually all kinds of shoes really easily give me friction wounds above my heels/at the backs of my ankles. So basically where most people would get blisters I just skip the blisters and really quickly go straight to open bleeding wounds. (Small wounds, but they bleed pretty heavily and refuse to close up.) I’ve already had to throw a pair of shoes away after a perfectly normal walk outside because one of the shoes got soaked with blood on the inside.
And once I have one of those wounds it takes them really long to heal and it’s really difficult to wear normal shoes during that time because they always open the wounds up again (sometimes even when I put bandaids on them).
Basically the only shoes I haven’t gotten any friction wounds from so far are Adidas sneakers and classic Converse high tops. My problem is though, that I really like walking and hiking around in the woods and I usually prefer to wear more robust, mud and weather-proof shoes for that (like Timberland boots and stuff like that), unless it’s a sunny summer day, and I don’t really know how to prevent them from giving me friction wounds. I’ve been thinking about trying to put bandaids on the high risk areas of my feet preemptively, but taping up the backs of my feet with bandaids every time I go for a walk/hike seems quite annoying, over-complicated and wasteful in the long run, so I was wondering if anyone here has this issue too and maybe knows some more practical (and less wasteful) tips and tricks to deal with it :)
Thanks in advance!
submitted by missfourthofjuly to ehlersdanlos [link] [comments]
And once I have one of those wounds it takes them really long to heal and it’s really difficult to wear normal shoes during that time because they always open the wounds up again (sometimes even when I put bandaids on them).
Basically the only shoes I haven’t gotten any friction wounds from so far are Adidas sneakers and classic Converse high tops. My problem is though, that I really like walking and hiking around in the woods and I usually prefer to wear more robust, mud and weather-proof shoes for that (like Timberland boots and stuff like that), unless it’s a sunny summer day, and I don’t really know how to prevent them from giving me friction wounds. I’ve been thinking about trying to put bandaids on the high risk areas of my feet preemptively, but taping up the backs of my feet with bandaids every time I go for a walk/hike seems quite annoying, over-complicated and wasteful in the long run, so I was wondering if anyone here has this issue too and maybe knows some more practical (and less wasteful) tips and tricks to deal with it :)
Thanks in advance!
2023.03.22 19:34 belarson2 Midwest spring wedding outside - attire help needed!
Hi all, I am attending a family member’s wedding in April in Minnesota outside on a farm. We’ve had a top 10 historical snow year so I’m guessing there will either be snow banks still or it will be all mud. Also a decent chance it might still be cold. Because of this, I’m struggling with what to wear. No formal dress code, we were told to wear what’s comfortable/good for pictures and practical shoes. Any suggestions? I’m thinking small black boots for sure but am struggling with what to wear for a dress. Since it’s close family, I feel like it needs to be “nicer.”
Info - I’m a girl and 5’11”.
submitted by belarson2 to Weddingattireapproval [link] [comments]
Info - I’m a girl and 5’11”.
2023.03.22 19:11 tf2_over_fortnite3 Everyday I wake up, then I start to break up - Lonely is『A Man Without Love』
Stand musical Reference:”A Man Without Love” by Engelbert Humperdinck
Stand Typing: Long Range
Category: Non-humanoid, and Similarly to The Sun, it is an astral body imitation, imitating the Moon
User Name: Lasya Kuan Yin
User References: Lasya is the Tibetan Moon Goddess, Kuan Yin being the Chinese moon goddess.
Stats
Power: B
Speed: D
Range: A
Persistence: A
Precision:E
Potential: E
Stand Ability:『A Man Without Love』hovers around 75 meters above, and, unlike The Sun, can move at approximately 3.8 centimeters per second. The ability of『A Man Without Love』is that when the user closes their eyes, any clouds currently within 3 kilometers of『A Man Without Love』, not including that clouds constantly surrounding it, will begin to rain very, very heavily, with the falling raindrops being around 6 millimeters in diameter, which is triple a normal raindrop’s. More so, the longer that the user keeps the stand active, the more clouds will seem to appear. If the user tries to sleep with the stand activated, it will begin hailing, with the same intensity as the rain, being enough to destroy cover, though the user can only sleep for 3 hours total with the stand active. Along with this, the average temperature within『A Man Without Love』drops to around 45 degrees Fahrenheit, while The User’s body temperature lowers to 35 degrees Fahrenheit, requiring them to be by a warm object to use the stand. Similar to how The Sun is balanced, it is very imprecise, and gives the user no protection from their stand ability. Like how with The Sun night never seems to come, while『A Man Without Love』is active, because the sky will always be dark with storm clouds.
Appearance:『A Man Without Love』takes an appearance of a full moon seen in the sky, similar to how The Sun is positioned, and it Is surround by dark stormy clouds. It, while it is raining, almost seems to become a sickly green, and when the user sleeps, it begins beating like a very slow heart.
User lore: Lasya has had her stand since birth, and felt a similar loneliness to Kakyoin’s in her childhood. She had been able to use(but not control) her stand a mere month after she was born, like Shizuko with her Achtung Baby. She had unknowingly causing a raging storm to rain outside for 3 years, Leaving her and her family stranded in their supply stocked cellar-bunker until at age 3 she gained enough awareness to stop it. During this time her parents had to burn through what was 10 years worth of firewood in 2 years just to keep the unusually cold Lasya from getting hypothermia. Lasya had a more or less normal life after that, lonely. She took a swimming class, and minored in medical, but she majored in Meteorology. She moved out at age 19, being the person of a weather channel that actually predicts the weather(and making it easy by just making it rain when she doesn’t want to work), with some freelance work on the side. She is now age 26, and has had a continuous lack of long-term boyfriends all throughout her life. She commonly feels lonely, even when surrounded by people, though she still loves her life and cares for others. She has a Moral compass.
User Appearance: Lasya is a pretty short girl, clocking at at 5’2, and is quite thin, with light-blue long hair and a rainy cloud pattern on her nails. Lasya wears pretty unusually heavy clothes even in hot weather, wearing a thick light blue-scarf, a solid black and way-too-big jacket to catch more heat from the sun, and a thinner-than-the-jacket Pants that go down to her ankles. She has a small Fannypack on the inside of her jacket, which holds flippers for swimming, tall and light-blue rubber boots for wading, and a blow-up life jacket. She wears solid black tennis shoes and very thick socks normally, with three cloud stickers randomly slapped onto each shoe.
submitted by tf2_over_fortnite3 to fanStands [link] [comments]
Stand Typing: Long Range
Category: Non-humanoid, and Similarly to The Sun, it is an astral body imitation, imitating the Moon
User Name: Lasya Kuan Yin
User References: Lasya is the Tibetan Moon Goddess, Kuan Yin being the Chinese moon goddess.
Stats
Power: B
Speed: D
Range: A
Persistence: A
Precision:E
Potential: E
Stand Ability:『A Man Without Love』hovers around 75 meters above, and, unlike The Sun, can move at approximately 3.8 centimeters per second. The ability of『A Man Without Love』is that when the user closes their eyes, any clouds currently within 3 kilometers of『A Man Without Love』, not including that clouds constantly surrounding it, will begin to rain very, very heavily, with the falling raindrops being around 6 millimeters in diameter, which is triple a normal raindrop’s. More so, the longer that the user keeps the stand active, the more clouds will seem to appear. If the user tries to sleep with the stand activated, it will begin hailing, with the same intensity as the rain, being enough to destroy cover, though the user can only sleep for 3 hours total with the stand active. Along with this, the average temperature within『A Man Without Love』drops to around 45 degrees Fahrenheit, while The User’s body temperature lowers to 35 degrees Fahrenheit, requiring them to be by a warm object to use the stand. Similar to how The Sun is balanced, it is very imprecise, and gives the user no protection from their stand ability. Like how with The Sun night never seems to come, while『A Man Without Love』is active, because the sky will always be dark with storm clouds.
Appearance:『A Man Without Love』takes an appearance of a full moon seen in the sky, similar to how The Sun is positioned, and it Is surround by dark stormy clouds. It, while it is raining, almost seems to become a sickly green, and when the user sleeps, it begins beating like a very slow heart.
User lore: Lasya has had her stand since birth, and felt a similar loneliness to Kakyoin’s in her childhood. She had been able to use(but not control) her stand a mere month after she was born, like Shizuko with her Achtung Baby. She had unknowingly causing a raging storm to rain outside for 3 years, Leaving her and her family stranded in their supply stocked cellar-bunker until at age 3 she gained enough awareness to stop it. During this time her parents had to burn through what was 10 years worth of firewood in 2 years just to keep the unusually cold Lasya from getting hypothermia. Lasya had a more or less normal life after that, lonely. She took a swimming class, and minored in medical, but she majored in Meteorology. She moved out at age 19, being the person of a weather channel that actually predicts the weather(and making it easy by just making it rain when she doesn’t want to work), with some freelance work on the side. She is now age 26, and has had a continuous lack of long-term boyfriends all throughout her life. She commonly feels lonely, even when surrounded by people, though she still loves her life and cares for others. She has a Moral compass.
User Appearance: Lasya is a pretty short girl, clocking at at 5’2, and is quite thin, with light-blue long hair and a rainy cloud pattern on her nails. Lasya wears pretty unusually heavy clothes even in hot weather, wearing a thick light blue-scarf, a solid black and way-too-big jacket to catch more heat from the sun, and a thinner-than-the-jacket Pants that go down to her ankles. She has a small Fannypack on the inside of her jacket, which holds flippers for swimming, tall and light-blue rubber boots for wading, and a blow-up life jacket. She wears solid black tennis shoes and very thick socks normally, with three cloud stickers randomly slapped onto each shoe.
2023.03.22 19:09 FatmanTheWorld I wrote a song about diarrhea
I've written a song about diarrhea
I've got diarrhea Boiling in my butt Squeaking from my anus Though I try to hold it shut
Lovely diarrhea Fun for one and all Pour it on your sister Smear it on the wall
It's funny when you say it It's funny when you think it It's funny when it fills your pants It's funny when you drink it
Ride a rollercoaster Round the loop the loop Spray the folks behind you With your liquid poop
Put some in the crockpot Pour some in a glass Remember to recycle Pour it up your ass
Rub some on your nipples Rub some on your toes Get a tube and funnel And pour some up your nose
Robert Oppenheimer Poured some on his mom Flew to Hiroshima With a diarrhea bomb
Mister Albert Einstein's Anus was impaired Proved that diarrhea Equals mc poopie squared
Biden's poops are water So are Donald Trump's No one in the White House Poops out solid lumps
I've got diarrhea I do liquid poop So come around my house some time Have a bowl of soup
Diarrhea! Oozes from your crack Diarrhea! Splashes up your back Diarrhea! Bursts forth from your hole Diarrhea! Didnt make it to the toilet bowl
Diarrhea! Diarrhea! Diarrhea! Diarrheaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Feel the pain in your gut Lots of pressure in your butt You probably shouldn't take the chance Liquid mischief in your pants
The stench is wafting through the room Cant deny the creamy doom Clench your anus desperately Shit your pants for all to see
It's on the floor and in your shoe Everybody looks at you The mess you made cannot be cleaned It is much worse than it seems
The girl you like is standing there You shat so hard it's in her hair Crying screaming in disbelief That she was caught in your bowels release
She tries to run but slips in shit Now no way you'll touch her clit
submitted by FatmanTheWorld to copypasta [link] [comments]
I've got diarrhea Boiling in my butt Squeaking from my anus Though I try to hold it shut
Lovely diarrhea Fun for one and all Pour it on your sister Smear it on the wall
It's funny when you say it It's funny when you think it It's funny when it fills your pants It's funny when you drink it
Ride a rollercoaster Round the loop the loop Spray the folks behind you With your liquid poop
Put some in the crockpot Pour some in a glass Remember to recycle Pour it up your ass
Rub some on your nipples Rub some on your toes Get a tube and funnel And pour some up your nose
Robert Oppenheimer Poured some on his mom Flew to Hiroshima With a diarrhea bomb
Mister Albert Einstein's Anus was impaired Proved that diarrhea Equals mc poopie squared
Biden's poops are water So are Donald Trump's No one in the White House Poops out solid lumps
I've got diarrhea I do liquid poop So come around my house some time Have a bowl of soup
Diarrhea! Oozes from your crack Diarrhea! Splashes up your back Diarrhea! Bursts forth from your hole Diarrhea! Didnt make it to the toilet bowl
Diarrhea! Diarrhea! Diarrhea! Diarrheaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Feel the pain in your gut Lots of pressure in your butt You probably shouldn't take the chance Liquid mischief in your pants
The stench is wafting through the room Cant deny the creamy doom Clench your anus desperately Shit your pants for all to see
It's on the floor and in your shoe Everybody looks at you The mess you made cannot be cleaned It is much worse than it seems
The girl you like is standing there You shat so hard it's in her hair Crying screaming in disbelief That she was caught in your bowels release
She tries to run but slips in shit Now no way you'll touch her clit
2023.03.22 19:03 LondonBridgeisRising How many pairs of shoes does your toddler have?
I have two toddlers. Both need specialty shoes and they don’t like rain boots or sandals.
They’ve had one pair of tennis shoes each for the past couple months but I’m buying them both an extra pair today. I realized this probably isn’t the norm!
Edit: I guess I should mention they outgrew their others pretty fast so we didn’t expect to be in these very long.
So how many pairs of shoes of do your kids have?
submitted by LondonBridgeisRising to toddlers [link] [comments]
They’ve had one pair of tennis shoes each for the past couple months but I’m buying them both an extra pair today. I realized this probably isn’t the norm!
Edit: I guess I should mention they outgrew their others pretty fast so we didn’t expect to be in these very long.
So how many pairs of shoes of do your kids have?
2023.03.22 18:39 aproyal The Fisher of Men
I was a fisherman because my father was a fisherman. And his father was a fisherman before him; this is all my family has ever known.
I worked on my father’s boat as one of his deckhands for years. We caught crabs in the Bering sea. Essentially, we would dunk massive metal cages into the water, trapping the crustaceans miles below. It's a tough living, and definitely something not for the faint of heart. You wake up to the murky haze of sunrise, the sea breeze chilling your bones, the smell of salt and the fresh guts of fish clinging to your nose like rust to the hull. Ninety percent of greenhorns never make it past their first day. Many of them were drifters, new to our community. The job paid well, so it attracted men who were eager to work. And my father was always willing to give anyone a shot. But the truth of it was, the job just wasn’t for everybody.
Something always hurt: whether it was your neck, your back, or your joints. It didn’t matter. If you left the harbor in our boat, you best be prepared for the grueling day or my father would toss you over himself.
I watched many a man perish on expeditions, swallowed up by the ravenous sea. Careless or stupid or just plain unlucky.
Things had been going smoothly, though, recently. There were a lot fewer casualties and some very nice yields. A few of the older deckhands at the pub had even quoted this as a “legendary” year. We drank to our good fortune. It wasn’t the same story we were hearing from some of the other vessels, but some years were better than others. It was just how the tide turned.
As I said, it’s an honest living and all I’ve ever known is Thally. It was renamed after my father’s first love, but he’d said if Mum ever asked it was named after the Greek Goddess of the sea. The ship had seen its fair share of tumultuous expeditions, but it always managed to steer us home with my father at the helm.
The day I realized he was in trouble, it was far too late. My father had slipped past the point of no return. In actuality, he had been slipping for months, but he was an incredibly stubborn man, impossible to deal with at times. You would just have soon put a bullet in his head if you kept him off the water. But the signs were there. His now shaky hands had once been the most steady spearfishing hands our town had ever seen. His lungs were once exceptional: many old timers at the bar claimed he could hold his breath for ten minutes. Now, he would cough out a watery tar-like residue from them. He stumbled over his words, occasionally forgetting some of the greenhorns’ and deckhands' names.
The signs were all there, and I chose to ignore them.
I think it was because he was the strongest man I ever knew; I couldn’t fathom him needing help. He taught me everything—how to fish, how to swim, how to gut and cook them once you were done. And that was everything in our fishing community. But I guess strong men get old too.
The only reason I caught him was the fussy latch on the door. He jiggled it in frustration as he left, another project left by the wayside. The wind swung the door open in a violent clap; the howling and whistling traveling through the home. A moment later, my coat was on and I followed him into the cold.
The conditions were wretched: the rain fell from the sky in a ruthless downpour. I followed the beacon of light from his lantern. He walked onto the dock and untied the mooring line before entering Thally. The beating of the rain was so intense it drowned out my footsteps and pleas for him to stop. But there was a whistling that could be heard. Its high-pitched tune seemed to float through the conditions, lingering by the dock.
I sprinted once the lights turned on, the motor purring. I barely managed to slide on deck before it drifted off to sea.
***
I’ve been on the water long enough to know we don’t belong there. This stormy night was no exception. The precarious weather would mean waves as tall as houses. In much milder conditions, it was easy to get tossed off deck, plunged into the depths of the dark unknown. High tide was not to be messed with. My father understood all of this, and yet he steered Thally into the choppy waters. The waves sloshed back and forth, creating slick pools that slid from one end to the other.
It was reckless. Unforgivable. Only a fool would steer into the eye of a storm, and my father was far from a foolish man.
He was a very superstitious man, that I knew. He believed in many silly things. Most were innocuous and standard to sailor folklore. Try to bring a banana on board (even so much as an item containing artificial flavoring, the kind you’d find in candy that tasted like awful chemicals) and he’d send you packing. Every morning he’d kiss the rosary above the helm and say a prayer before we’d dock. They made me smirk, these superstitions, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Our best years came under his reign, and when he made money, we all made money—including all of the businesses down the supply chain. The man just seemed to have a knack for it. He knew all the sweet spots and had a feel for where we should be.
Lightning sparked above us. I held onto the railing and stumbled my way toward the entrance of the wheelhouse. The thunder that followed made me flinch. It erupted above, sending trails of jagged light zig-zagging across the cluster of ominous clouds. I twisted the handle, but it didn't move. I could see a faint hue of light past the cloudy glass and the steps ascending upwards, but no sign of my father. Banging on the door was useless, the water continued to pummel everything in its wake, drowning out the noise.
Except for the whistling. It was steady. Unwavering. The calm song seemed to dance above the water, hovering around the main deck.
I threw my hands up in frustration. My father had finally lost it. They always said too much time at sea would do that to you.
Searching for something to help me gain access, I held onto the handle for dear life. With a sudden jerk of the ocean, my hand slipped. I rolled across the deck, my back slamming against the railing on the periphery. My cheek felt cold against the soaked wood floors. A gush of water quickly followed, flowing into my face and sneaking into the crevices of my raincoat, invading my wooly sweater and long johns underneath. I moaned in agony, spitting out a sticky gob of salt and blood.
The boat continued to teeter violently with the waves in large, helpless dips. I managed to get to my knees, desperately clutching the railing. My back felt like it had been scorched. All the while, I cursed my father.
I needed to find shelter or it was a matter of time before I would be underwater. The main deck was largely open. It would be impossible to get to the living quarters or engine room, the water was too treacherous and the distance too far. I needed to go back the way I came and get to my father before it was too late.
Amidst the haze of the rain, I spotted the tool bench that housed some basic tools. I waited until the ebb and flow of the waves had mellowed before timing my staggered run. When the deck leveled, I ran. I felt the muggy squish of salt water between my water-logged boots. As the boat began to rise again, I grasped one of the railing barriers wrapped around the metal bench. A wave of water dropped down, chopping at my body. I swayed momentarily before my feet were sent airborne. The arctic chill brought shivers as it whipped my drenched skin. I gasped. The tips of my fingers were numb as I scrambled to my feet.
Once the waves settled, I fiddled with the combination. The lock clicked open, and I grabbed the first two objects that looked like they could do damage—an iron mallet and a pair of pliers—and waited for the next sequence of waves to settle. I trudged back toward the stairs. The waves tilted the boat at a harsh angle. I stumbled, losing grip of one of the tools. The pliers skidded away in the darkness, disappearing into the black waters. I clutched the mallet for dear life.
The window vibrated with every heavy thud. I brought the mallet down as hard as I could, my arms trembling. After a couple of powerful whacks, tiny spiderweb cracks began to emerge. It eventually shattered, allowing me to reach in and unlock the door.
“Father!” I bellowed up the stairs. My hands slid up the guard rail as the cool steel supported my clumsy steps.
“Charlie?” he called back. His eyes were full of terror: wide and jittery. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I shouted back. “Look outside! We need to turn back!”
Someone else stood by my father’s side. He stared blankly out the window, gripping the wheel. His long, ashy-white locks draped down from his head like thick sections of rope. He looked dressed and ready to work: a brown leather apron, and a cracked leather bucket hat, the string browned and weathered around his chin. The man glanced back at me, a grave look on his face.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“He shouldn’t be here, Ferris,” the man warned.
My father's hands shot to his face. The one missing a ring finger caressed his beard in panic. “Oh, Lord. What are we to do now?” he cried.
“What do you mean? Have you both gone mad?” I stormed the helm and pulled the wheel in the opposite direction. The older man held firm, battling me for control.
“Turn around!” I pleaded.
The man roared back, “Ferris, do something!”
The waves continued to wobble the boat violently from side to side.
“Charlie. Please stop!” my father begged. He gripped the top of my hand and tried to pry my fingers from the wheel.
“Are you crazy, Father? We are going to capsize!” The pressure from his hands finally was too much. I shrugged him off of me, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He then drifted toward the opposite wall, dragged from one end to the other by the tide. Next, I leaned my weight against the man steering the ship. To my surprise, I fell right through him. I stared helplessly from the floor, my mouth ajar at the ghastly revelation. He barely glanced back, his narrow umber brown stare kept firm on the water.
The boat abruptly stopped before I could react. I was launched toward the window, my shoulder colliding with the switchboard. My father was a crumpled heap on the floor. Only the sound of clattering rain filled the air for a moment.
The light was undeniable past the foggy wet window. Blinding. A radiant glow of aquamarine encompassed the outside of the ship.
The man spoke, walking to the door, “It’s time to go.”
The ground felt steady, the rocking ceased. But my father still held the wall as he stepped toward the exit. Seeing him then, he appeared frail and uneasy.
“Stop,” I ordered, wagging my hand in the man’s direction. “Not until I know what’s going on.”
My father sighed, every word looked exhausting exiting his lips. “It is too much to explain now.” He pointed to the door. “You must come.”
“To what exactly? Where are we going?”
The older man held the door open. “To meet our destiny.”
***
Outside the wheelhouse, the incredible glow illuminated the deck. The old man strode toward the floating being. My father stayed a few steps behind, in apprehension. I could tell the tossing around on the ship had done a number on him: he held his wrist as he hobbled forward at a gingerly pace. I placed my hand against the small of his back, aiding him onward.
“Say goodbye,” the man urged. “No need to drag this along, Ferris.”
I observed the being, frozen in wonder. She hovered above the deck, her translucent body holding no color, but glimmering in a silky rainbow sheen like a ray of light hitting the surface of glass at an angle. Her body was beautiful: curvaceous, smooth.
“F…Father…what is this?”
Walls of water surrounded the perimeter of the boat, creating a giant bowl around the ship. The mountainous waves were held in limbo, suspended in the air like swirling blue arcs of impending doom. Schools of fish could be seen swimming in the waves.
My father glanced back as he approached the floating entity. His expression had softened, his stare was that of a little boy who had lost his mother. “I would have come for you, Charlie. I would have explained everything…after I gathered the right words.” I walked toward him and held his head at my chest. He began to sob.
“You must go now,” the old man ordered. “She grows impatient.”
I felt my father trying to peel away, but I held the folds of his neon jacket tighter.
“Let him go,” the old man hissed.
She drifted nearer. There were too many tentacles to count protruding from the base of her skull. Her lips remained pursed. She did not speak, but there was a vibration coming from her. A cooing. The gentle whistle sang from her reverberating gills.
“Tell me what this is, Father,” I cried. “I will not let you go!”
He held me close. I had never heard him cry so hard before.
The older man spoke for him. “Your father’s time is up. Like all of our times have come to an end,” he explained. “He has served well. Exceptionally well.”
My father finally let go.
“Okay,” he declared with a deep breath. “I am ready.“ He took one last look up at me. “I love you, Charlie. Tell your mother I love her too.”
What happened next happened in rapid succession. He took two steps forward and the tentacles wrapped around his body. A petrified scream escaped his lungs. His limbs jolted uncontrollably, as tiny electric sparks flashed from the tentacles. The smell of singed flesh replaced the salty breeze. His eyes rolled back as the entity’s jaw stretched open to an unsettling length. His head was plunged into the cavernous confines, her teeth as sharp as spearheads. She stared back at me as his body disappeared. Her jaw opened and closed in horrifying crunches. Alligator-like snaps.
I wailed helplessly. Was I next?
Her glowing eyes had a glint of satisfaction; her pillow lips moist with delight. They smacked together in a disturbing click. All the while, the whistling continued from its flexing gills.
In an instant, the waves were released, wooshing down from the perimeter. The tsunami was too much, it swallowed everything whole. I saw a flurry of bubbles as the waves crashed into me; I felt the frigid sting of the water mixed with an intense burning in my lungs.
The old man’s voice spoke in the flood:
“Good luck, Boy.”
Everything washed away.
***
I awoke in the wheelhouse, my arms and legs spread out like a starfish. My father was standing over me.
“Welcome back, Son,” he smiled. His gold front tooth was gleaming.
I sat up to see the bright bleed of sunrise peeking in through the clouds.
“How long was I out?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. My head pulsated like I was having a sinister hangover.
“A couple of hours?” he guessed. “It’s not important. What matters is that you are here.”
The rain had stopped, but the deck still had puddles of water pooled up on the surface. It miraculously looked like the boat survived the night with little to no damage.
“You still have time to make it back to work,” he assured me. He appeared content as the pier came into view.
“You won’t believe the nightmare I had.”
There was a flicker of sadness in his smirk. “It was no nightmare.”
I laughed nervously. “Sure.”
“I wish it was a joke, Charlie,” he said. He placed his hand at the helm and spun the wheel. A large buoy floated past. “But I am ready to explain.”
My father told me that the man from last night was named Hayden. He was my grandfather. He had died at sea before I was ever born. So had his father. And his father before him. This was the pact our family had made.
I rubbed my eyes.
“We all take, take, take from the ocean. Our family has been chosen to be the ones who give back, to try to breach the gap.”
The story left me frozen in my spot. “So, this is to be my fate, as well?”
He gazed out the window with an empty stare. The sun was now an orange ring fanning across the skyline. “The way I see it, you have two options.” He turned to look me in my eyes. “You can carry on and captain Thally. Just as you were destined to. It is your responsibility now—the livelihood of the community, the tradition—it all lives with you.” He paused, scratching his chin. “It is a cross to bear, Charlie. The strongest men carry the most weight. You will bring a lot of good men into grave peril. The sea will claim who they see fit, it is not for you to choose. But you must bring them, in plenty.” He cleared his throat. “But you will also protect the community. The sea will reward you so. You will also do much good.”
“Or?” I asked.
“Or…” he paused. “You dock the ship and walk away from it all. Forever. Start a new life. Change your trajectory.”
I contemplated what a new life would look like. “What would happen to Mother?”
“She must never know,” he said. “It will be a tough pill for her to swallow. But she is a tough woman, she will make do.”
We stood in silence, the squawk of the waterfowls and the rolling waves filling the space.
“If you take that path, you must stay away from the ocean. Forever. The sea is unforgiving. A betrayer of covenants, well, you will stand no chance.” He swallowed. “Your children will stand no chance.”
The pier slowly approached. The shadows of awaiting crew members were huddled together at the end of the pier, their lit cigarettes shone in the twilight.
“We are almost here, Son.” He kissed me on the forehead and walked toward the exit. His lips felt incredibly cold. “Just trust I support you in your decision. Whichever way you choose.”
I nodded, tears fleeing from my eyes. I swiftly wiped them away.
“Goodbye, Son. I love you.”
With that, he walked through the closed door.
I gripped the wheel and watched Thally glide toward the pier.
When we got close, I tied the ship to the dock. The familiar whistle cooed in from the sea.
I began to load the ship and felt a hand clutch my shoulder. Murphy grabbed me playfully, his crooked grin across his face. Chase, the new greenhorn, yawned as he shook my hand. I ribbed him about his uneven mustache. He stomped out his butt. More of the crew began to gather their things and hop on board.
We prepared for the daily catch.
For this was all I’ve ever known.
aproyal
submitted by aproyal to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]
I worked on my father’s boat as one of his deckhands for years. We caught crabs in the Bering sea. Essentially, we would dunk massive metal cages into the water, trapping the crustaceans miles below. It's a tough living, and definitely something not for the faint of heart. You wake up to the murky haze of sunrise, the sea breeze chilling your bones, the smell of salt and the fresh guts of fish clinging to your nose like rust to the hull. Ninety percent of greenhorns never make it past their first day. Many of them were drifters, new to our community. The job paid well, so it attracted men who were eager to work. And my father was always willing to give anyone a shot. But the truth of it was, the job just wasn’t for everybody.
Something always hurt: whether it was your neck, your back, or your joints. It didn’t matter. If you left the harbor in our boat, you best be prepared for the grueling day or my father would toss you over himself.
I watched many a man perish on expeditions, swallowed up by the ravenous sea. Careless or stupid or just plain unlucky.
Things had been going smoothly, though, recently. There were a lot fewer casualties and some very nice yields. A few of the older deckhands at the pub had even quoted this as a “legendary” year. We drank to our good fortune. It wasn’t the same story we were hearing from some of the other vessels, but some years were better than others. It was just how the tide turned.
As I said, it’s an honest living and all I’ve ever known is Thally. It was renamed after my father’s first love, but he’d said if Mum ever asked it was named after the Greek Goddess of the sea. The ship had seen its fair share of tumultuous expeditions, but it always managed to steer us home with my father at the helm.
The day I realized he was in trouble, it was far too late. My father had slipped past the point of no return. In actuality, he had been slipping for months, but he was an incredibly stubborn man, impossible to deal with at times. You would just have soon put a bullet in his head if you kept him off the water. But the signs were there. His now shaky hands had once been the most steady spearfishing hands our town had ever seen. His lungs were once exceptional: many old timers at the bar claimed he could hold his breath for ten minutes. Now, he would cough out a watery tar-like residue from them. He stumbled over his words, occasionally forgetting some of the greenhorns’ and deckhands' names.
The signs were all there, and I chose to ignore them.
I think it was because he was the strongest man I ever knew; I couldn’t fathom him needing help. He taught me everything—how to fish, how to swim, how to gut and cook them once you were done. And that was everything in our fishing community. But I guess strong men get old too.
The only reason I caught him was the fussy latch on the door. He jiggled it in frustration as he left, another project left by the wayside. The wind swung the door open in a violent clap; the howling and whistling traveling through the home. A moment later, my coat was on and I followed him into the cold.
The conditions were wretched: the rain fell from the sky in a ruthless downpour. I followed the beacon of light from his lantern. He walked onto the dock and untied the mooring line before entering Thally. The beating of the rain was so intense it drowned out my footsteps and pleas for him to stop. But there was a whistling that could be heard. Its high-pitched tune seemed to float through the conditions, lingering by the dock.
I sprinted once the lights turned on, the motor purring. I barely managed to slide on deck before it drifted off to sea.
***
I’ve been on the water long enough to know we don’t belong there. This stormy night was no exception. The precarious weather would mean waves as tall as houses. In much milder conditions, it was easy to get tossed off deck, plunged into the depths of the dark unknown. High tide was not to be messed with. My father understood all of this, and yet he steered Thally into the choppy waters. The waves sloshed back and forth, creating slick pools that slid from one end to the other.
It was reckless. Unforgivable. Only a fool would steer into the eye of a storm, and my father was far from a foolish man.
He was a very superstitious man, that I knew. He believed in many silly things. Most were innocuous and standard to sailor folklore. Try to bring a banana on board (even so much as an item containing artificial flavoring, the kind you’d find in candy that tasted like awful chemicals) and he’d send you packing. Every morning he’d kiss the rosary above the helm and say a prayer before we’d dock. They made me smirk, these superstitions, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Our best years came under his reign, and when he made money, we all made money—including all of the businesses down the supply chain. The man just seemed to have a knack for it. He knew all the sweet spots and had a feel for where we should be.
Lightning sparked above us. I held onto the railing and stumbled my way toward the entrance of the wheelhouse. The thunder that followed made me flinch. It erupted above, sending trails of jagged light zig-zagging across the cluster of ominous clouds. I twisted the handle, but it didn't move. I could see a faint hue of light past the cloudy glass and the steps ascending upwards, but no sign of my father. Banging on the door was useless, the water continued to pummel everything in its wake, drowning out the noise.
Except for the whistling. It was steady. Unwavering. The calm song seemed to dance above the water, hovering around the main deck.
I threw my hands up in frustration. My father had finally lost it. They always said too much time at sea would do that to you.
Searching for something to help me gain access, I held onto the handle for dear life. With a sudden jerk of the ocean, my hand slipped. I rolled across the deck, my back slamming against the railing on the periphery. My cheek felt cold against the soaked wood floors. A gush of water quickly followed, flowing into my face and sneaking into the crevices of my raincoat, invading my wooly sweater and long johns underneath. I moaned in agony, spitting out a sticky gob of salt and blood.
The boat continued to teeter violently with the waves in large, helpless dips. I managed to get to my knees, desperately clutching the railing. My back felt like it had been scorched. All the while, I cursed my father.
I needed to find shelter or it was a matter of time before I would be underwater. The main deck was largely open. It would be impossible to get to the living quarters or engine room, the water was too treacherous and the distance too far. I needed to go back the way I came and get to my father before it was too late.
Amidst the haze of the rain, I spotted the tool bench that housed some basic tools. I waited until the ebb and flow of the waves had mellowed before timing my staggered run. When the deck leveled, I ran. I felt the muggy squish of salt water between my water-logged boots. As the boat began to rise again, I grasped one of the railing barriers wrapped around the metal bench. A wave of water dropped down, chopping at my body. I swayed momentarily before my feet were sent airborne. The arctic chill brought shivers as it whipped my drenched skin. I gasped. The tips of my fingers were numb as I scrambled to my feet.
Once the waves settled, I fiddled with the combination. The lock clicked open, and I grabbed the first two objects that looked like they could do damage—an iron mallet and a pair of pliers—and waited for the next sequence of waves to settle. I trudged back toward the stairs. The waves tilted the boat at a harsh angle. I stumbled, losing grip of one of the tools. The pliers skidded away in the darkness, disappearing into the black waters. I clutched the mallet for dear life.
The window vibrated with every heavy thud. I brought the mallet down as hard as I could, my arms trembling. After a couple of powerful whacks, tiny spiderweb cracks began to emerge. It eventually shattered, allowing me to reach in and unlock the door.
“Father!” I bellowed up the stairs. My hands slid up the guard rail as the cool steel supported my clumsy steps.
“Charlie?” he called back. His eyes were full of terror: wide and jittery. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I shouted back. “Look outside! We need to turn back!”
Someone else stood by my father’s side. He stared blankly out the window, gripping the wheel. His long, ashy-white locks draped down from his head like thick sections of rope. He looked dressed and ready to work: a brown leather apron, and a cracked leather bucket hat, the string browned and weathered around his chin. The man glanced back at me, a grave look on his face.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“He shouldn’t be here, Ferris,” the man warned.
My father's hands shot to his face. The one missing a ring finger caressed his beard in panic. “Oh, Lord. What are we to do now?” he cried.
“What do you mean? Have you both gone mad?” I stormed the helm and pulled the wheel in the opposite direction. The older man held firm, battling me for control.
“Turn around!” I pleaded.
The man roared back, “Ferris, do something!”
The waves continued to wobble the boat violently from side to side.
“Charlie. Please stop!” my father begged. He gripped the top of my hand and tried to pry my fingers from the wheel.
“Are you crazy, Father? We are going to capsize!” The pressure from his hands finally was too much. I shrugged him off of me, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He then drifted toward the opposite wall, dragged from one end to the other by the tide. Next, I leaned my weight against the man steering the ship. To my surprise, I fell right through him. I stared helplessly from the floor, my mouth ajar at the ghastly revelation. He barely glanced back, his narrow umber brown stare kept firm on the water.
The boat abruptly stopped before I could react. I was launched toward the window, my shoulder colliding with the switchboard. My father was a crumpled heap on the floor. Only the sound of clattering rain filled the air for a moment.
The light was undeniable past the foggy wet window. Blinding. A radiant glow of aquamarine encompassed the outside of the ship.
The man spoke, walking to the door, “It’s time to go.”
The ground felt steady, the rocking ceased. But my father still held the wall as he stepped toward the exit. Seeing him then, he appeared frail and uneasy.
“Stop,” I ordered, wagging my hand in the man’s direction. “Not until I know what’s going on.”
My father sighed, every word looked exhausting exiting his lips. “It is too much to explain now.” He pointed to the door. “You must come.”
“To what exactly? Where are we going?”
The older man held the door open. “To meet our destiny.”
***
Outside the wheelhouse, the incredible glow illuminated the deck. The old man strode toward the floating being. My father stayed a few steps behind, in apprehension. I could tell the tossing around on the ship had done a number on him: he held his wrist as he hobbled forward at a gingerly pace. I placed my hand against the small of his back, aiding him onward.
“Say goodbye,” the man urged. “No need to drag this along, Ferris.”
I observed the being, frozen in wonder. She hovered above the deck, her translucent body holding no color, but glimmering in a silky rainbow sheen like a ray of light hitting the surface of glass at an angle. Her body was beautiful: curvaceous, smooth.
“F…Father…what is this?”
Walls of water surrounded the perimeter of the boat, creating a giant bowl around the ship. The mountainous waves were held in limbo, suspended in the air like swirling blue arcs of impending doom. Schools of fish could be seen swimming in the waves.
My father glanced back as he approached the floating entity. His expression had softened, his stare was that of a little boy who had lost his mother. “I would have come for you, Charlie. I would have explained everything…after I gathered the right words.” I walked toward him and held his head at my chest. He began to sob.
“You must go now,” the old man ordered. “She grows impatient.”
I felt my father trying to peel away, but I held the folds of his neon jacket tighter.
“Let him go,” the old man hissed.
She drifted nearer. There were too many tentacles to count protruding from the base of her skull. Her lips remained pursed. She did not speak, but there was a vibration coming from her. A cooing. The gentle whistle sang from her reverberating gills.
“Tell me what this is, Father,” I cried. “I will not let you go!”
He held me close. I had never heard him cry so hard before.
The older man spoke for him. “Your father’s time is up. Like all of our times have come to an end,” he explained. “He has served well. Exceptionally well.”
My father finally let go.
“Okay,” he declared with a deep breath. “I am ready.“ He took one last look up at me. “I love you, Charlie. Tell your mother I love her too.”
What happened next happened in rapid succession. He took two steps forward and the tentacles wrapped around his body. A petrified scream escaped his lungs. His limbs jolted uncontrollably, as tiny electric sparks flashed from the tentacles. The smell of singed flesh replaced the salty breeze. His eyes rolled back as the entity’s jaw stretched open to an unsettling length. His head was plunged into the cavernous confines, her teeth as sharp as spearheads. She stared back at me as his body disappeared. Her jaw opened and closed in horrifying crunches. Alligator-like snaps.
I wailed helplessly. Was I next?
Her glowing eyes had a glint of satisfaction; her pillow lips moist with delight. They smacked together in a disturbing click. All the while, the whistling continued from its flexing gills.
In an instant, the waves were released, wooshing down from the perimeter. The tsunami was too much, it swallowed everything whole. I saw a flurry of bubbles as the waves crashed into me; I felt the frigid sting of the water mixed with an intense burning in my lungs.
The old man’s voice spoke in the flood:
“Good luck, Boy.”
Everything washed away.
***
I awoke in the wheelhouse, my arms and legs spread out like a starfish. My father was standing over me.
“Welcome back, Son,” he smiled. His gold front tooth was gleaming.
I sat up to see the bright bleed of sunrise peeking in through the clouds.
“How long was I out?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. My head pulsated like I was having a sinister hangover.
“A couple of hours?” he guessed. “It’s not important. What matters is that you are here.”
The rain had stopped, but the deck still had puddles of water pooled up on the surface. It miraculously looked like the boat survived the night with little to no damage.
“You still have time to make it back to work,” he assured me. He appeared content as the pier came into view.
“You won’t believe the nightmare I had.”
There was a flicker of sadness in his smirk. “It was no nightmare.”
I laughed nervously. “Sure.”
“I wish it was a joke, Charlie,” he said. He placed his hand at the helm and spun the wheel. A large buoy floated past. “But I am ready to explain.”
My father told me that the man from last night was named Hayden. He was my grandfather. He had died at sea before I was ever born. So had his father. And his father before him. This was the pact our family had made.
I rubbed my eyes.
“We all take, take, take from the ocean. Our family has been chosen to be the ones who give back, to try to breach the gap.”
The story left me frozen in my spot. “So, this is to be my fate, as well?”
He gazed out the window with an empty stare. The sun was now an orange ring fanning across the skyline. “The way I see it, you have two options.” He turned to look me in my eyes. “You can carry on and captain Thally. Just as you were destined to. It is your responsibility now—the livelihood of the community, the tradition—it all lives with you.” He paused, scratching his chin. “It is a cross to bear, Charlie. The strongest men carry the most weight. You will bring a lot of good men into grave peril. The sea will claim who they see fit, it is not for you to choose. But you must bring them, in plenty.” He cleared his throat. “But you will also protect the community. The sea will reward you so. You will also do much good.”
“Or?” I asked.
“Or…” he paused. “You dock the ship and walk away from it all. Forever. Start a new life. Change your trajectory.”
I contemplated what a new life would look like. “What would happen to Mother?”
“She must never know,” he said. “It will be a tough pill for her to swallow. But she is a tough woman, she will make do.”
We stood in silence, the squawk of the waterfowls and the rolling waves filling the space.
“If you take that path, you must stay away from the ocean. Forever. The sea is unforgiving. A betrayer of covenants, well, you will stand no chance.” He swallowed. “Your children will stand no chance.”
The pier slowly approached. The shadows of awaiting crew members were huddled together at the end of the pier, their lit cigarettes shone in the twilight.
“We are almost here, Son.” He kissed me on the forehead and walked toward the exit. His lips felt incredibly cold. “Just trust I support you in your decision. Whichever way you choose.”
I nodded, tears fleeing from my eyes. I swiftly wiped them away.
“Goodbye, Son. I love you.”
With that, he walked through the closed door.
I gripped the wheel and watched Thally glide toward the pier.
When we got close, I tied the ship to the dock. The familiar whistle cooed in from the sea.
I began to load the ship and felt a hand clutch my shoulder. Murphy grabbed me playfully, his crooked grin across his face. Chase, the new greenhorn, yawned as he shook my hand. I ribbed him about his uneven mustache. He stomped out his butt. More of the crew began to gather their things and hop on board.
We prepared for the daily catch.
For this was all I’ve ever known.
aproyal
2023.03.22 18:36 MackFenzie Shoot Your Shot: Algae Blooms part 3
This is a Nature of Predators Fanfic
First Previous Next
Amelia was excitedly telling a sea-loving Krakotl about her own childhood trips to the beach when she heard a shrieking laugh behind her. She turned to the sound instinctively, and saw her boyfriend laughing with the bartender. She smiled widely, tipsiness making her forget to hide her teeth. She was considering whether she should get up and join him at the bar, or wait for him to come to her, when she saw Jaisa fly over to him. Talva had been right, it looked like she was happy to see an old friend.
Then, she kissed his neck, and he sensually stroked her feathers.
The smile fell from Amelia’s face. If that was how they greeted each other, they must be really “good friends.”
The Krakotl she had been talking to chirped and tilted his head at her. She refocused on him and realized she’d stopped talking mid-sentence.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I got distracted, my boyfriend just walked in. Forgive me, that was rude. You were asking if we enjoy the wind currents? Honestly, we like getting in the water more, although we do use the wind to sail boats. We do have a sport called surfing, though, let me see if I can find a video for you.”
While the Krakotl watched the video, Amelia took a breath and reminded herself not to jump to conclusions. She had made the decision to date an alien, and difficult cultural moments were an inherent part of that. Heck, the only reason Glenil had had the courage to ask her out was because she’d misinterpreted one of his platonic gestures as romantic in intent. Besides, she knew next to nothing about Krakotl culture. Physical contact between friends was perfectly acceptable in her own culture, after all. She shook her head slightly. She just needed to put that image of Jaisa’s beak on Glenil’s neck out of her mind until she could talk to him in private.
“Hello, beloved,” his warm voice sounded behind her. “I got a spiked tayri juice for you.”
“Hey handsome,” she told him brightly. “Thanks for the cocktail. This is Krisim, we were just talking about swimming at the beach.”
“Well, I was talking about soaring at the beach,” he corrected her.
“Wait, you can swim?” Jaisa asked incredulously.
“I mean, not as well as actual aquatic animals, but we like splashing around, sure!”
“Cute,” Jaisa smirked. “I just can imagine a group of you teaching your hatchlings how to splash around in the most elegant possible manner.” She pushed Glenil’s shoulder with her wing and giggled musically.
Amelia’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally; was Jaisa being intentionally condescending and touchy with Glenil? Don’t jump to conclusions based off your own culture, she reminded herself. She pasted a toothy, white smile on her face. “Yep, swimming lessons are definitely fun.”
Glenil leaned over her and deposited a quick kiss on her cheek in the human fashion, before murmuring that he wanted to catch up with Jaisa.
She watched them walk away to a nearby table with a sinking heart. Amelia tried to focus on the conversation with the group she’d just been hitting it off with, but couldn’t quite muster the enthusiasm she’d felt just moments before.
Mariah glanced from Amelia to Glenil and back, and raised her eyebrows. Her dark eyes emoted concern, but Amelia just shrugged. “It’s fine,” she mouthed at her. “I’ll talk to him later.”
Well, Amelia’s relationship was her concern. Mariah herself was not feeling fine. Just moments ago, some jerk had dive-bombed her group and called them “ugly, stinking, skin-monsters.” While she was grateful that the other Krakotl had intervened and apologized for his boorish behavior, she felt twitchy every time one of them lifted a wing or cawed too loudly. She sipped at her second glass of algae bloom — Krisim had wordlessly gotten it for her when he noticed her blinking back tears — and tried to calm herself by simply listening to the conversation around her.
It seemed the Krakotl were amused over Amelia’s choice of beverage.
“I wouldn’t have thought a predator would like fruit juice, let alone drink it at a bar,” one chuckled.
“Well, if she doesn’t like the algae blooms, it’s not like she could drink the Venlil swill! We can commiserate with you on that one, human.”
“That’s true,” Krisim said. “Venlil eat lots of fruit, and for their ancestors, eating the fermented fruits on the forest floor was a big evolutionary advantage. We eat fruit, sure, but our ancestors mostly ate algae, which is always fresh. We just didn’t evolve that alcohol tolerance the way the Venlil did. Humans and Krakotl have that in common, I suppose.”
Mariah nodded slightly but didn’t venture to speak. Every time Amelia talked, more birds flocked to her, and Mariah just didn’t want them focused on her. She was terrified one of them would ask about her family or home, and she’d dissolve.
“Speaking of things in common, do humans dance?” Krisim’s friend, Laimil, asked.
“Of course! I took classes as a kid, but I’m not great or anything. Mariah over there is who you should talk to about human dancing.”
Mariah’s mind rushed back to her childhood, learning to dance in her family’s kitchen to the rhythm of their old dishwasher, feet balanced on top of her father’s shoes as he showed her how to step to the beat and her mother laughed. That was all gone, now. That dishwasher wasn’t just sitting in a junk heap somewhere, it had been obliterated by an antimatter bomb, and everything she loved with it. She couldn’t even think about dancing right now, let alone talk about it with these feathered aliens.
Sitting next to her, Talva noticed Mariah’s eyes filling with tears, and her knuckles turning white around the handful of skirt she was clenching. Talva rested her hand comfortingly on her friend’s forearm, and decided to turn the conversation away from the teary girl.
“I clearly remember you doing choreography, Amelia!” Talva blurted. “I’d bet we all want to hear about that!”
Mariah shot her a grateful look and sighed.
“Talva!” Amelia exclaimed, flapping her hand at her friend. “That was not real dancing, you can’t tell people about that!”
The avians around the table ruffled their feathers in laughter. “What kind of choreography would be ‘not real dancing?’” Krisim asked, eyes glinting with mirth.
Amelia glared daggers at Talva, who wagged cheerfully back at her.
“Human kids do these silly dances to popular songs. It’s a common activity for a group of friends to make up and learn a dance together, and record a video of the group dancing. A couple weeks ago, someone played a song at the bar we usually go to that was popular when I was a kid, and probably half the English speakers — uh, sorry, that’s the language of my tribe, which is spoken by several other tribes, too — immediately just busted out these inelegant, ridiculous moves we all learned back in 2115.”
“I’m surprised the Venlil weren’t terrified at a group of humans moving in unison,” someone squawked mockingly.
“It was too hilarious to be threatening,” Talva chortled.
“But I refuse to let something as clumsy as my half-remembered schoolyard choreography be taken as an example of human achievement in dance!” Amelia finished, emphasizing each word with a tap of her hand on the table top.
The Krakotl around them were making bizarre, light skreetches that Amelia strongly suspected was giggling. Embarrassing as getting called out on her decades-old boy band dance routines in front of strangers might be, she strongly preferred that to them being scared of her.
As Laimil turned to Mariah to ask her about “real” human dancing, Amelia drained her juice and got up to buy another. The air pressed on her ear drums as a Krakotl beat their wings to clear the table and land next to her.
“Mind if I join you?” Krisim asked. “It’s been such a pleasure talking to you, I’d be honored if you let me buy you a drink.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. She glanced across the room at her boyfriend — wait, did Jaisa have her wing around his shoulders?? — and back at the Krakotl in front of her, and let out a breath.
“That is so generous of you. But, um, in my culture, that has romantic implications? And I do have a boyfriend…” she told him awkwardly.
Krisim gestured graciously with his wing. “I completely understand, and I thank you for your frank explanation. I wasn’t sure if your people were even monogamous. Although, he doesn’t appear to be buying you a drink at present. If you decide differently, let me know.”
Amelia blushed. That definitely sounded like flirting to her. She would just have to do her best to be friendly, but not encouraging. That balance was hard enough to strike with others from her own cultural background, let alone with a bright, blue, alien, space turkey.
After a moment’s silence, Krisim continued. “Revealing one’s bright coloration does convey rather romantic intentions in my own culture. I only tell you so that you may conceal the vivid tones in your face to avoid such miscommunications if you wish.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped open, and she covered her face with her hands. “Well, I can’t control it, especially if I’ve had a few drinks. It’s a blood pressure thing.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize. I’d seen humans with more and less vivid coloration on their skin and thought it was something you did at will, like how we can show off or hide our brightest feathers.”
“Well, we do, but it’s with paint, not something we can just do at a moment’s notice.”
“I see, fascinating. This is why I was so excited to see a human here today. You’re so spectacularly alien!”
“Well, thanks, I guess.” They fell silent as Kisoar confirmed they both wanted another round of the same drinks they’d been having.
“Is it an everyday, normal thing for a Krakotl to nuzzle people with their beaks?” Amelia blurted suddenly, after Kisoar flapped to the end of the bar to refill the massive jug of algae bloom he needed to top up Krisim’s glass.
“What do you mean by that?”
Amelia ignored the fact that her cheeks were still burning and sending those mixed messages to everyone in the bar, and gestured at her neck. “Like as a greeting, would you platonically greet someone by nuzzling their neck with your beak? And if they like, stroked your whole wing, what kind of signals would that be sending?”
“That’s a typical interspecies embrace. When Krakotl meet friends and family, we embrace and smooth each other’s feathers with our beaks. It’s called allopreening. You mammals can’t do that, so we approximate the motion, and the mammal strokes our wing with their paw. It’s perfectly platonic.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good then,” Amelia said, gaze lowering to the bar. She’d known all along her concern had been unfounded and silly!
Krisim chortled at her. “You weren’t jealous of Glenil spending time with his ex-lover, were you?”
Amelia’s head snapped back around, and her eyes narrowed at the Krakotl male. “His what?”
His eyes widened and his feathers puffed up; his tail fanned out behind him in alarm. Just a minute ago, he’d been somewhat attracted to the predator’s charmingly bright cheeks, and now she looked like she’d break his neck in an instant. “I thought you knew!” he squawked, flapping his wings slightly. The bar got quieter as the inhabitants who had been keeping one eye on the predators noted the Krisim’s barely-suppressed intimidation display. Outside of Amelia’s field of vision, Talva leapt out of her seat and jogged towards her friend.
Some part of Amelia’s brain realized she had inadvertently freaked Krisim out. She turned her head away from him in an effort to show she wasn’t sizing him up for a meal. “God dammit. I’m sorry, Krisim, I realize my facial expression was a little intense there. Another cultural miscommunication, I guess. I just didn’t realize Glenil dated Jaisa. Thanks for telling me.”
Kisoar pushed a green, fermented algae to Krisim, who took it and flew away in a flap. Kisoar gave Amelia her alcoholic juice, and fixed her in his gaze.
“Humans are territorial, right?” he asked her. Taking her silence as an affirmative, he went on. “We are too. We’re known for being more aggressive than other Federation species, and part of that is because we evolved to defend our nests, both from predators, and from other Krakotl with flashier feathers. At least, that’s what some of the historians who go against the Farsul narratives have been saying. My point is, the Venlil aren’t like that. They’re not as placid as people like to think they are, but, they don’t look at a romantic relationship as something that needs to be defended like we do.”
“Is that why you were worried about inviting him here?” Talva squeaked from behind Amelia’s shoulder.
Amelia jumped. A Venlil would have seen Talva there, but with her human skull structure, Amelia was caught unawares.
“Oh my god, girl, when did you get here? Never mind. No, I was worried about inviting him because in my culture, it would be rude to invite my boyfriend on a girls’ night. If I’d known they dated, I might have felt a little worried about that, but that wouldn’t change the fact that they’re friends. People are allowed to be friends with their exes. But a human would know to be up front and clear about that so that their girlfriend wouldn’t get blindsided by that information and have to deal with that revelation in front of everyone.”
“Human, working here, I see a lot of interspecies couples of all types,” the bartender went on. “This kind of conflict around cultural expectations comes up with all of them. Channel whatever it was that Noah used to explain himself to the Federation, and let your mate know what you’re feeling and thinking. Oh, and get him to dance with you so that the rest of these curious lekkers will realize you’re not available.”
“Lekkers?”
“A group assembled to compete for mates - flashing their colors, flirting, you know.”
Amelia nodded contemplatively. “I have to say, it’s a relief to realize I’m not the only one with these issues. You can imagine how it went meeting his family, I’m sure.”
“Oh, Inatala, that must have been difficult.”
Amelia sipped her tayri cocktail contemplatively. “He stood up for me, though. He always does.”
“I’m not surprised. He’s a good guy. Got all of the best qualities of a Venlil, and few of the annoying ones.”
Talva flicked her ears in annoyance as Amelia barked out a laugh. “You’re not wrong, Kisoar. Hey, while I’ve got you dispensing advice, you mentioned I should dance with Glenil - dancing’s a romantic thing for the Krakotl?”
Kisoar bobbed his head noncommittally. “It can be. Dancing as a couple, one-on-one, is usually an expression of pointed interest or commitment. It’s a pretty common lekking activity. Dancing in a larger group doesn’t have that connotation.”
“Depends on the context, then. Just like us. Hey, could I have a glass of whatever Glenil had?”
Kisoar tilted his head cautiously at her. “For him, or for you? No offense, but I don’t need a human passed out on my floor.”
“For him, obviously!!” Amelia rotated her head quickly from side to side, as if checking for predators, before leaning forward conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I value my life far too much to drink that poison.”
“Hey!” Talva swatted her with her tail. “I ignored the ‘annoying qualities of a Venlil’ comment, but just because you can’t handle a real drink doesn’t make the finest brew in the galaxy ‘poison!’”
————————————————————
Amelia and Talva approached Glenil and Jaisa’s table.
“Mind if we butt in?” Amelia asked with a smile, setting the clear glass down in front of Glenil.
“Of course, beloved,” Glenil said with an affectionate wave of his tail.
“Actually, Jaisa, could I talk to you?” Talva asked. “I got you a drink, and I’ve got an idea I wanted to sprout with you. Plus, we should save Mariah from those lekking males.”
Jaisa chirped a cheerful agreement and followed Talva away from the table.
“Do you want to do some dancing? I thought that you might enjoy that, and Mariah is said to be a gifted dancer.”
Jaisa tilted her head. “And you had to ask that in private?”
“Well, Amelia is shy when it comes to dancing, I didn’t want to embarrass her! And… I wanted to ask if you are still interested in Glenil,” she admitted.
“Oh Inatala, no! He’s sweet, but sweet just isn’t my type. That’s why we broke up, remember?”
“Right. That and the jealousy.”
“Ugh, you Venlil are always thinking the slightest thing is too aggressive. Protective doesn’t always mean jealous.”
Vala chuckled. “Well, you Krakotl are always jumping to conclusions.”
Jaisa squawked a laugh as Vala whacked her with her tail. “That’s why we’re such good friends. You talk me down when I’m swooping to divebomb something, and I make you stand up for yourself. I’ve missed you, friend. Maybe it’s a good thing we’ve both been so busy, though. I would have told you not to sponsor that predator coming to Venlil Prime, but she’s actually perfectly nice. And, to answer your initial question, yes, I think dancing would be fun.”
Mariah’s head perked up to look at them. She excused herself to the person she had been talking to, and smiled broadly at Jaisa as she perched next to her. “Did I hear you say ‘dancing?’”
Although she’d done her best to present a cheerful face, she had been on edge ever since that one Krakotl had dive-bombed them, even though the rest of the bar had made it clear they didn’t agree with his intolerance. If she didn’t do something to help her feelings dissipate, she felt she might explode. Moving to a rhythm did always lift her mood.
The floor at the center of the room was clear of tables and perches to allow plenty of room for dancing. Several Krakotl were already dancing, and Jaisa easily fell into an elegant pattern of movement across from them. She bobbed her head to the song, and flared and shook her feathers along with the harmonic trills. When Mariah tried to join her, she found that even finding the beat to the music was a challenge. She had heard that Krakotl music was known throughout the Federation for its unique complexity, but had not expected to find herself unable to match the beat for longer than a few seconds at a time before it got away from her. While Mariah had years of formal training in ballet, jazz, and hiphop, and a childhood spent dancing to the complex beats of her father’s Igbo music, this music was simply more alien than anything she’d heard before.
As she realized that this music didn’t adhere to the same rules that governed human music, she came to a stop. She dropped her drink on a nearby table and closed her eyes. She snapped the fingers of her right hand along to the beat, and when the song shifted to no longer match, she patted her left hand on her thigh. It shifted again, and she tapped her toes. The song finally changed back to match her initial, finger-snapping pattern. She listened, focusing on the three time signatures she was measuring with her body. After a few minutes, she realized that each time the dominant beat changed, the harmony subtly carried the theme of the other two rhythms. She had learned young that if you could find the beat, you could dance to anything, even a noisy dishwasher. Now, she just had to figure out how to follow this one.
Jaisa was disappointed to see the human fumble instead of dancing as confidently as Talva had promised. She’d liked her confidence, but she’d been silly to think a predator, of all people, would be able to discern the complex flows, currents and wingbeats of Krakotl music to dance gracefully. The human had seemed to realize her own failure and froze, eyes closed as if in an effort to hide. She stopped trying to dance, and simply made small movements with her extremities to the wingbeats of the music. Jaisa wondered if the female would take offense if she offered to try to show her how to move.
Mariah opened her eyes again and took a few steps. She combined elements of a waltz, a cha-cha, and a foxtrot to create a footwork pattern that could dynamically shift with the beat of the song. Once her feet successfully navigated the complex musical phrases without tripping over the constantly changing time signatures, she let the rest of her body shimmy, twist, bounce, and swoop with the soaring and flitting harmonies.
Jaisa trilled in surprise. The human wasn’t clumsy at all! Once she had mapped the currents of the music, she soared along the ground with surprising elegance and poise. Jaisa frilled her tail to show off her bright plumage along to the sweeping flow of the music, and incorporated some of Mariah’s alien footwork into her own dance. Mariah smiled as she noticed, and echoed the feather movements with her hands. Jaisa was glad she’d bullied Talva into bringing the human; this was fun.
As she twisted and twirled, Jaisa noticed iridescent highlights on the human’s cheekbones. Those colors had to signal interest, she couldn’t think of any possible reason a being would evolve iridescence other than to attract a mate. She wouldn’t have thought that predators would be civilized enough to understand the concept of couple-bonding without reproducing, whether same- or opposite-sex. Now that she’d actually talked to humans, she realized that had been an ignorant assumption. If Mariah was interested in her, well, she could certainly use the rebound. Besides… she’d never met anyone that moved like this. Jaisa fluttered closer to her, wings and tail shifting in time to the music to display her iridescence to the utmost effect.
Mariah wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light making Jaisa appear more colorful as she moved. But she did notice the avian woman’s intent focus on Mariah’s steps, and that every time Mariah mirrored one of her moves, Jaisa would borrow one of hers. The bird trilled and shimmered the feathers on her neck. Mariah overtly ignored the other Krakotl around her and focused on dancing confidently with her new friend, closer and closer with each phrase of the music. For the first time since Talva had mentioned going to a Krakotl establishment, Mariah actually felt at ease.
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Amelia was excitedly telling a sea-loving Krakotl about her own childhood trips to the beach when she heard a shrieking laugh behind her. She turned to the sound instinctively, and saw her boyfriend laughing with the bartender. She smiled widely, tipsiness making her forget to hide her teeth. She was considering whether she should get up and join him at the bar, or wait for him to come to her, when she saw Jaisa fly over to him. Talva had been right, it looked like she was happy to see an old friend.
Then, she kissed his neck, and he sensually stroked her feathers.
The smile fell from Amelia’s face. If that was how they greeted each other, they must be really “good friends.”
The Krakotl she had been talking to chirped and tilted his head at her. She refocused on him and realized she’d stopped talking mid-sentence.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I got distracted, my boyfriend just walked in. Forgive me, that was rude. You were asking if we enjoy the wind currents? Honestly, we like getting in the water more, although we do use the wind to sail boats. We do have a sport called surfing, though, let me see if I can find a video for you.”
While the Krakotl watched the video, Amelia took a breath and reminded herself not to jump to conclusions. She had made the decision to date an alien, and difficult cultural moments were an inherent part of that. Heck, the only reason Glenil had had the courage to ask her out was because she’d misinterpreted one of his platonic gestures as romantic in intent. Besides, she knew next to nothing about Krakotl culture. Physical contact between friends was perfectly acceptable in her own culture, after all. She shook her head slightly. She just needed to put that image of Jaisa’s beak on Glenil’s neck out of her mind until she could talk to him in private.
“Hello, beloved,” his warm voice sounded behind her. “I got a spiked tayri juice for you.”
“Hey handsome,” she told him brightly. “Thanks for the cocktail. This is Krisim, we were just talking about swimming at the beach.”
“Well, I was talking about soaring at the beach,” he corrected her.
“Wait, you can swim?” Jaisa asked incredulously.
“I mean, not as well as actual aquatic animals, but we like splashing around, sure!”
“Cute,” Jaisa smirked. “I just can imagine a group of you teaching your hatchlings how to splash around in the most elegant possible manner.” She pushed Glenil’s shoulder with her wing and giggled musically.
Amelia’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally; was Jaisa being intentionally condescending and touchy with Glenil? Don’t jump to conclusions based off your own culture, she reminded herself. She pasted a toothy, white smile on her face. “Yep, swimming lessons are definitely fun.”
Glenil leaned over her and deposited a quick kiss on her cheek in the human fashion, before murmuring that he wanted to catch up with Jaisa.
She watched them walk away to a nearby table with a sinking heart. Amelia tried to focus on the conversation with the group she’d just been hitting it off with, but couldn’t quite muster the enthusiasm she’d felt just moments before.
Mariah glanced from Amelia to Glenil and back, and raised her eyebrows. Her dark eyes emoted concern, but Amelia just shrugged. “It’s fine,” she mouthed at her. “I’ll talk to him later.”
Well, Amelia’s relationship was her concern. Mariah herself was not feeling fine. Just moments ago, some jerk had dive-bombed her group and called them “ugly, stinking, skin-monsters.” While she was grateful that the other Krakotl had intervened and apologized for his boorish behavior, she felt twitchy every time one of them lifted a wing or cawed too loudly. She sipped at her second glass of algae bloom — Krisim had wordlessly gotten it for her when he noticed her blinking back tears — and tried to calm herself by simply listening to the conversation around her.
It seemed the Krakotl were amused over Amelia’s choice of beverage.
“I wouldn’t have thought a predator would like fruit juice, let alone drink it at a bar,” one chuckled.
“Well, if she doesn’t like the algae blooms, it’s not like she could drink the Venlil swill! We can commiserate with you on that one, human.”
“That’s true,” Krisim said. “Venlil eat lots of fruit, and for their ancestors, eating the fermented fruits on the forest floor was a big evolutionary advantage. We eat fruit, sure, but our ancestors mostly ate algae, which is always fresh. We just didn’t evolve that alcohol tolerance the way the Venlil did. Humans and Krakotl have that in common, I suppose.”
Mariah nodded slightly but didn’t venture to speak. Every time Amelia talked, more birds flocked to her, and Mariah just didn’t want them focused on her. She was terrified one of them would ask about her family or home, and she’d dissolve.
“Speaking of things in common, do humans dance?” Krisim’s friend, Laimil, asked.
“Of course! I took classes as a kid, but I’m not great or anything. Mariah over there is who you should talk to about human dancing.”
Mariah’s mind rushed back to her childhood, learning to dance in her family’s kitchen to the rhythm of their old dishwasher, feet balanced on top of her father’s shoes as he showed her how to step to the beat and her mother laughed. That was all gone, now. That dishwasher wasn’t just sitting in a junk heap somewhere, it had been obliterated by an antimatter bomb, and everything she loved with it. She couldn’t even think about dancing right now, let alone talk about it with these feathered aliens.
Sitting next to her, Talva noticed Mariah’s eyes filling with tears, and her knuckles turning white around the handful of skirt she was clenching. Talva rested her hand comfortingly on her friend’s forearm, and decided to turn the conversation away from the teary girl.
“I clearly remember you doing choreography, Amelia!” Talva blurted. “I’d bet we all want to hear about that!”
Mariah shot her a grateful look and sighed.
“Talva!” Amelia exclaimed, flapping her hand at her friend. “That was not real dancing, you can’t tell people about that!”
The avians around the table ruffled their feathers in laughter. “What kind of choreography would be ‘not real dancing?’” Krisim asked, eyes glinting with mirth.
Amelia glared daggers at Talva, who wagged cheerfully back at her.
“Human kids do these silly dances to popular songs. It’s a common activity for a group of friends to make up and learn a dance together, and record a video of the group dancing. A couple weeks ago, someone played a song at the bar we usually go to that was popular when I was a kid, and probably half the English speakers — uh, sorry, that’s the language of my tribe, which is spoken by several other tribes, too — immediately just busted out these inelegant, ridiculous moves we all learned back in 2115.”
“I’m surprised the Venlil weren’t terrified at a group of humans moving in unison,” someone squawked mockingly.
“It was too hilarious to be threatening,” Talva chortled.
“But I refuse to let something as clumsy as my half-remembered schoolyard choreography be taken as an example of human achievement in dance!” Amelia finished, emphasizing each word with a tap of her hand on the table top.
The Krakotl around them were making bizarre, light skreetches that Amelia strongly suspected was giggling. Embarrassing as getting called out on her decades-old boy band dance routines in front of strangers might be, she strongly preferred that to them being scared of her.
As Laimil turned to Mariah to ask her about “real” human dancing, Amelia drained her juice and got up to buy another. The air pressed on her ear drums as a Krakotl beat their wings to clear the table and land next to her.
“Mind if I join you?” Krisim asked. “It’s been such a pleasure talking to you, I’d be honored if you let me buy you a drink.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. She glanced across the room at her boyfriend — wait, did Jaisa have her wing around his shoulders?? — and back at the Krakotl in front of her, and let out a breath.
“That is so generous of you. But, um, in my culture, that has romantic implications? And I do have a boyfriend…” she told him awkwardly.
Krisim gestured graciously with his wing. “I completely understand, and I thank you for your frank explanation. I wasn’t sure if your people were even monogamous. Although, he doesn’t appear to be buying you a drink at present. If you decide differently, let me know.”
Amelia blushed. That definitely sounded like flirting to her. She would just have to do her best to be friendly, but not encouraging. That balance was hard enough to strike with others from her own cultural background, let alone with a bright, blue, alien, space turkey.
After a moment’s silence, Krisim continued. “Revealing one’s bright coloration does convey rather romantic intentions in my own culture. I only tell you so that you may conceal the vivid tones in your face to avoid such miscommunications if you wish.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped open, and she covered her face with her hands. “Well, I can’t control it, especially if I’ve had a few drinks. It’s a blood pressure thing.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize. I’d seen humans with more and less vivid coloration on their skin and thought it was something you did at will, like how we can show off or hide our brightest feathers.”
“Well, we do, but it’s with paint, not something we can just do at a moment’s notice.”
“I see, fascinating. This is why I was so excited to see a human here today. You’re so spectacularly alien!”
“Well, thanks, I guess.” They fell silent as Kisoar confirmed they both wanted another round of the same drinks they’d been having.
“Is it an everyday, normal thing for a Krakotl to nuzzle people with their beaks?” Amelia blurted suddenly, after Kisoar flapped to the end of the bar to refill the massive jug of algae bloom he needed to top up Krisim’s glass.
“What do you mean by that?”
Amelia ignored the fact that her cheeks were still burning and sending those mixed messages to everyone in the bar, and gestured at her neck. “Like as a greeting, would you platonically greet someone by nuzzling their neck with your beak? And if they like, stroked your whole wing, what kind of signals would that be sending?”
“That’s a typical interspecies embrace. When Krakotl meet friends and family, we embrace and smooth each other’s feathers with our beaks. It’s called allopreening. You mammals can’t do that, so we approximate the motion, and the mammal strokes our wing with their paw. It’s perfectly platonic.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good then,” Amelia said, gaze lowering to the bar. She’d known all along her concern had been unfounded and silly!
Krisim chortled at her. “You weren’t jealous of Glenil spending time with his ex-lover, were you?”
Amelia’s head snapped back around, and her eyes narrowed at the Krakotl male. “His what?”
His eyes widened and his feathers puffed up; his tail fanned out behind him in alarm. Just a minute ago, he’d been somewhat attracted to the predator’s charmingly bright cheeks, and now she looked like she’d break his neck in an instant. “I thought you knew!” he squawked, flapping his wings slightly. The bar got quieter as the inhabitants who had been keeping one eye on the predators noted the Krisim’s barely-suppressed intimidation display. Outside of Amelia’s field of vision, Talva leapt out of her seat and jogged towards her friend.
Some part of Amelia’s brain realized she had inadvertently freaked Krisim out. She turned her head away from him in an effort to show she wasn’t sizing him up for a meal. “God dammit. I’m sorry, Krisim, I realize my facial expression was a little intense there. Another cultural miscommunication, I guess. I just didn’t realize Glenil dated Jaisa. Thanks for telling me.”
Kisoar pushed a green, fermented algae to Krisim, who took it and flew away in a flap. Kisoar gave Amelia her alcoholic juice, and fixed her in his gaze.
“Humans are territorial, right?” he asked her. Taking her silence as an affirmative, he went on. “We are too. We’re known for being more aggressive than other Federation species, and part of that is because we evolved to defend our nests, both from predators, and from other Krakotl with flashier feathers. At least, that’s what some of the historians who go against the Farsul narratives have been saying. My point is, the Venlil aren’t like that. They’re not as placid as people like to think they are, but, they don’t look at a romantic relationship as something that needs to be defended like we do.”
“Is that why you were worried about inviting him here?” Talva squeaked from behind Amelia’s shoulder.
Amelia jumped. A Venlil would have seen Talva there, but with her human skull structure, Amelia was caught unawares.
“Oh my god, girl, when did you get here? Never mind. No, I was worried about inviting him because in my culture, it would be rude to invite my boyfriend on a girls’ night. If I’d known they dated, I might have felt a little worried about that, but that wouldn’t change the fact that they’re friends. People are allowed to be friends with their exes. But a human would know to be up front and clear about that so that their girlfriend wouldn’t get blindsided by that information and have to deal with that revelation in front of everyone.”
“Human, working here, I see a lot of interspecies couples of all types,” the bartender went on. “This kind of conflict around cultural expectations comes up with all of them. Channel whatever it was that Noah used to explain himself to the Federation, and let your mate know what you’re feeling and thinking. Oh, and get him to dance with you so that the rest of these curious lekkers will realize you’re not available.”
“Lekkers?”
“A group assembled to compete for mates - flashing their colors, flirting, you know.”
Amelia nodded contemplatively. “I have to say, it’s a relief to realize I’m not the only one with these issues. You can imagine how it went meeting his family, I’m sure.”
“Oh, Inatala, that must have been difficult.”
Amelia sipped her tayri cocktail contemplatively. “He stood up for me, though. He always does.”
“I’m not surprised. He’s a good guy. Got all of the best qualities of a Venlil, and few of the annoying ones.”
Talva flicked her ears in annoyance as Amelia barked out a laugh. “You’re not wrong, Kisoar. Hey, while I’ve got you dispensing advice, you mentioned I should dance with Glenil - dancing’s a romantic thing for the Krakotl?”
Kisoar bobbed his head noncommittally. “It can be. Dancing as a couple, one-on-one, is usually an expression of pointed interest or commitment. It’s a pretty common lekking activity. Dancing in a larger group doesn’t have that connotation.”
“Depends on the context, then. Just like us. Hey, could I have a glass of whatever Glenil had?”
Kisoar tilted his head cautiously at her. “For him, or for you? No offense, but I don’t need a human passed out on my floor.”
“For him, obviously!!” Amelia rotated her head quickly from side to side, as if checking for predators, before leaning forward conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I value my life far too much to drink that poison.”
“Hey!” Talva swatted her with her tail. “I ignored the ‘annoying qualities of a Venlil’ comment, but just because you can’t handle a real drink doesn’t make the finest brew in the galaxy ‘poison!’”
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Amelia and Talva approached Glenil and Jaisa’s table.
“Mind if we butt in?” Amelia asked with a smile, setting the clear glass down in front of Glenil.
“Of course, beloved,” Glenil said with an affectionate wave of his tail.
“Actually, Jaisa, could I talk to you?” Talva asked. “I got you a drink, and I’ve got an idea I wanted to sprout with you. Plus, we should save Mariah from those lekking males.”
Jaisa chirped a cheerful agreement and followed Talva away from the table.
“Do you want to do some dancing? I thought that you might enjoy that, and Mariah is said to be a gifted dancer.”
Jaisa tilted her head. “And you had to ask that in private?”
“Well, Amelia is shy when it comes to dancing, I didn’t want to embarrass her! And… I wanted to ask if you are still interested in Glenil,” she admitted.
“Oh Inatala, no! He’s sweet, but sweet just isn’t my type. That’s why we broke up, remember?”
“Right. That and the jealousy.”
“Ugh, you Venlil are always thinking the slightest thing is too aggressive. Protective doesn’t always mean jealous.”
Vala chuckled. “Well, you Krakotl are always jumping to conclusions.”
Jaisa squawked a laugh as Vala whacked her with her tail. “That’s why we’re such good friends. You talk me down when I’m swooping to divebomb something, and I make you stand up for yourself. I’ve missed you, friend. Maybe it’s a good thing we’ve both been so busy, though. I would have told you not to sponsor that predator coming to Venlil Prime, but she’s actually perfectly nice. And, to answer your initial question, yes, I think dancing would be fun.”
Mariah’s head perked up to look at them. She excused herself to the person she had been talking to, and smiled broadly at Jaisa as she perched next to her. “Did I hear you say ‘dancing?’”
Although she’d done her best to present a cheerful face, she had been on edge ever since that one Krakotl had dive-bombed them, even though the rest of the bar had made it clear they didn’t agree with his intolerance. If she didn’t do something to help her feelings dissipate, she felt she might explode. Moving to a rhythm did always lift her mood.
The floor at the center of the room was clear of tables and perches to allow plenty of room for dancing. Several Krakotl were already dancing, and Jaisa easily fell into an elegant pattern of movement across from them. She bobbed her head to the song, and flared and shook her feathers along with the harmonic trills. When Mariah tried to join her, she found that even finding the beat to the music was a challenge. She had heard that Krakotl music was known throughout the Federation for its unique complexity, but had not expected to find herself unable to match the beat for longer than a few seconds at a time before it got away from her. While Mariah had years of formal training in ballet, jazz, and hiphop, and a childhood spent dancing to the complex beats of her father’s Igbo music, this music was simply more alien than anything she’d heard before.
As she realized that this music didn’t adhere to the same rules that governed human music, she came to a stop. She dropped her drink on a nearby table and closed her eyes. She snapped the fingers of her right hand along to the beat, and when the song shifted to no longer match, she patted her left hand on her thigh. It shifted again, and she tapped her toes. The song finally changed back to match her initial, finger-snapping pattern. She listened, focusing on the three time signatures she was measuring with her body. After a few minutes, she realized that each time the dominant beat changed, the harmony subtly carried the theme of the other two rhythms. She had learned young that if you could find the beat, you could dance to anything, even a noisy dishwasher. Now, she just had to figure out how to follow this one.
Jaisa was disappointed to see the human fumble instead of dancing as confidently as Talva had promised. She’d liked her confidence, but she’d been silly to think a predator, of all people, would be able to discern the complex flows, currents and wingbeats of Krakotl music to dance gracefully. The human had seemed to realize her own failure and froze, eyes closed as if in an effort to hide. She stopped trying to dance, and simply made small movements with her extremities to the wingbeats of the music. Jaisa wondered if the female would take offense if she offered to try to show her how to move.
Mariah opened her eyes again and took a few steps. She combined elements of a waltz, a cha-cha, and a foxtrot to create a footwork pattern that could dynamically shift with the beat of the song. Once her feet successfully navigated the complex musical phrases without tripping over the constantly changing time signatures, she let the rest of her body shimmy, twist, bounce, and swoop with the soaring and flitting harmonies.
Jaisa trilled in surprise. The human wasn’t clumsy at all! Once she had mapped the currents of the music, she soared along the ground with surprising elegance and poise. Jaisa frilled her tail to show off her bright plumage along to the sweeping flow of the music, and incorporated some of Mariah’s alien footwork into her own dance. Mariah smiled as she noticed, and echoed the feather movements with her hands. Jaisa was glad she’d bullied Talva into bringing the human; this was fun.
As she twisted and twirled, Jaisa noticed iridescent highlights on the human’s cheekbones. Those colors had to signal interest, she couldn’t think of any possible reason a being would evolve iridescence other than to attract a mate. She wouldn’t have thought that predators would be civilized enough to understand the concept of couple-bonding without reproducing, whether same- or opposite-sex. Now that she’d actually talked to humans, she realized that had been an ignorant assumption. If Mariah was interested in her, well, she could certainly use the rebound. Besides… she’d never met anyone that moved like this. Jaisa fluttered closer to her, wings and tail shifting in time to the music to display her iridescence to the utmost effect.
Mariah wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light making Jaisa appear more colorful as she moved. But she did notice the avian woman’s intent focus on Mariah’s steps, and that every time Mariah mirrored one of her moves, Jaisa would borrow one of hers. The bird trilled and shimmered the feathers on her neck. Mariah overtly ignored the other Krakotl around her and focused on dancing confidently with her new friend, closer and closer with each phrase of the music. For the first time since Talva had mentioned going to a Krakotl establishment, Mariah actually felt at ease.
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