Hake scene

[Review] Beggar's Rebellion by Levi Jacobs #SPFBO-5 Finalist!

2020.03.25 16:59 jenile [Review] Beggar's Rebellion by Levi Jacobs #SPFBO-5 Finalist!

Another finalist review from me. Links at the bottom for the rest of the team and to find out more about the contest and leaderboard.
***
Two people from different sides of the track meet and find love, er…nope, just kidding. Actually, they get involved with a rebellion and turn a city on its heels; there’s death, mayhem, super-power type magics, and a lot of stuff getting burned.
We follow two characters-
Ella. She is currently like the H&R block of the Sea, doing taxes and bookkeeping for seafarers, so they can be about their business as soon they come ashore.Saving her money to go to an elite school, she’s been hiding her identity while living aboard. She’s not licensed as a calculator (this world bookkeepers) and gets herself in a spot of trouble when her secret is outed and her savings stolen. Ella is smart, thinks on her feet and has plans to change the world. She’s very idealistic, righteous and quite naïve.
Her special ability/magic (called Resonances) is time-slipping, she can slow down time, one thing I liked about this was the way it was written when she slipped was that it did feel like we actually were sped up and they were at a stop.
Tai- lives on the street using his smarts to survive with a few kids he calls family. When Tai gets into it with one of the local peacekeeper types, it causes a backlash of trouble endangering his “kids” and forcing him to look for refuge down in the mines.
Tai wants the world to change but probably wouldn’t have rocked the boat except his kids were endangered. His special ability/magic is that he is a Wafter- he can run fast and jump really high.He also has the advantage of not needing the Yura to use this ability (more on that below).Like Ella he is also idealistic, righteous, and naïve at times for a street kid.
The magic- called Resonances was pretty cool. Kind of superhero type powers. There are six abilities that can be accessed through the Uai (the inner power that fuels the magic) and it seems like quite a few people are able to use their Uai with the help of Yura (a type of moss). This has made Yura a top commodity for trade and black-marketing. In the capital where it’s all the rage- a little ball is worth quite a lot of money.
There is an added twist that some people don’t need to use the Yura, they have “pleased their ancestors” and have reached the next level of their ability (this has progression fantasy magic feel since they are already quite strong and they gain access to stronger abilities as they “level-up”).
Pleasing the Ancestor- The ancestors are like ghosts or demons that feed off your Uai. The Yura helps by muting them for a brief time allowing a person to access their abilities.
Both Ella and Tai have Ancestors-
Tai’s is the ghost of his friend Hake, whose sister is one of the kids he looks after. Ella’s is LeTwi a respected scholar.
Because they’re like having two extra main characters they help a bit with the exposition and filling little details of the world, but I also got annoyed with them occasionally with the repetitive arguing.
The story and the pacing-
I was impressed with the amount of detail that was packed in to this book- it was definitely the strong point of the story and the pace was surprisingly fast for an epic fantasy that features this much world and magic building.
But there were also places I felt it was too fast because some of the important events seem to happen lickety-split (the search for the kids for example) and in others it felt a little draggy just because I wasn’t as interested. Most of the instances that felt fast were where I wanted to slow down and explore the repercussions.
I did appreciate not having to sit around doing nonsensical things waiting for a realistic amount of time to pass to build the rebel army etc.
Pet peeve alert- I am sure everyone knows by now how much I hate an overlapping pov retelling of a scene, especially one that adds absolutely nothing to the story. I dock a lot of points for these clunky feeling add-ons and I need a good reason for them to be there to not do that. I want to learn something new from them, not just a rehash of what happened so we can see the other pov’s reactions. That kind of thing should and can be shown the first time around. (IMO)
Other notes-
-Liked the events to do with The High Arbiter.
-Enjoyed all the courtroom trial with Ella and Ordil, the back and forth with the case and quick pacing made it fun to see the proceedings even though I felt the whole thing was a little on the easy side.
- There was a bit of confusion for me about the magic and its uniqueness to certain people- especially since Ella was worried about people seeing her talking to her inner voice but then later, everyone has magic so I assume they all have a voice as well?This was cleared up by one of the other judges (Lukasz) and was me not putting two and two together about the winter fruits and the regions and the effects on the magic.


Go here to find out more about SPFBO contest and to find links to all the participating bloggers/authors and reviews.
https://mark---lawrence.blogspot.com/2019/06/spfbo-5-phase-1.html
Go here for the finalist standings.
https://mark---lawrence.blogspot.com/2019/10/finalists-for-5th-spfbo.html?fbclid=IwAR3Q9MZ0P8W-3Qg5pH2au7W2DI0hNDNFAs2h9d1aJKcuu4GJg22dgI0dhNA
And here for more team reviews from #RockStarlit and our score.
https://starlitbook.com/2020/03/20/spfbo-beggars-rebellion-by-levi-jacobs/
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2019.12.11 15:56 srslyjuststop Why The TREP Was Suspended

Why The TREP Was Suspended
(Versión en español)
I've been reviewing public documents in an attempt to figure out exactly what happened on Election Day (October 20th 2019) in Bolivia to cause the stoppage of the TREP (non-binding preliminary vote count). This unexpected stoppage, followed by a late rally that expanded the MAS's lead just enough to win outright in the first round, led to accusations of electoral fraud that fueled a protest movement which eventually overthrew the government.
I think the suspension of the TREP was a result of the tension and lack of communication between Marcel Guzmán de Rojas, the director of NEOTEC, the firm which developed and administered the computer system that processed the votes, and Ethical Hacking, the Panamanian cybersecurity firm that was hired in the last few weeks by the TSE (Supreme Electoral Court, which oversees Bolivian elections) to audit the system then monitor it on Election Day. It's important to note that some MAS-aligned members of the TSE had hoped to develop their own system instead of continuing to rely on NEOTEC, who'd administered elections in Bolivia for decades, but their effort failed and NEOTEC, who had the support of the MAS's opposition, was rehired about five weeks before the election. The TSE reached out to Ethical Hacking about a week later on September 19th. It wouldn't be until October 4th, though, just 16 days before the election, when the first meeting between NEOTEC and Ethical Hacking was held, and the compressed pre-election schedule contributed to frictions between them. Guzmán de Rojas felt burdened by the additional demands on him, and the monitoring software that's so often mentioned in news reports was installed over the protests of Guzmán de Rojas, who expressed skepticism about it, fearing it could create conflicts with his own software and there wasn't enough time to test it adequately. When it was finally installed on his servers three days before the election, he only agreed because the TSE ordered it, and even then he had a contract drawn up in which he repeated his concerns, and he and Ethical Hacking's CEO Alvaro Andrade bickered over the details.
The day before Election Day, there was an event with government officials and electoral observers in which they reinitialized the databases, validated the election software, and preserved a copy of the source code, then had a verbal agreement not to make more changes or connect to the servers. However, shortly before midnight Guzmán de Rojas accessed one of the servers, which generated security alerts. Ethical Hacking called Guzmán de Rojas, who explained that in the earlier event, there wasn't enough time to reinitialize all the databases and he'd planned to finish the process later. Ethical Hacking asked him to disconnect from the server and not make any more changes, but hours later, early in the morning on Election Day, Guzmán de Rojas made two bugfixes to his code in response to errors caused by the arrival of the first tally sheets from overseas, which generated more security alerts and forced Ethical Hacking to redo its review from the day before. According to Ethical Hacking, these unauthorized changes "generated great suspicion and unease toward NEOTEC among the TSE board" and Guzmán de Rojas was forced to agree in writing to not make any more changes without the coordination and participation of the DNTIC (National IT Directorate) and Ethical Hacking. Also, throughout Election Day, Guzmán de Rojas and his staff regularly accessed the servers to check the logs despite the protests of the cybersecurity people, who preferred that it be done via their monitoring software. Reading the Ethical Hacking report, one gets the sense that Guzmán de Rojas saw them as a nuisance that could mostly be ignored as he went about his usual work. In fact, this was the first time that the TSE had hired a cybersecurity firm to monitor an election and Guzmán de Rojas must not have been used to such strict supervision. When he saw something that needed to be done, he sometimes did it without bothering with whatever protocols there might be.
The most serious problems emerged in the lead-up to the 7:45PM press conference at which the TSE board would announce the preliminary results. To facilitate this event, there was a planned stoppage of the generation of TREP results at 7:40PM, so that during the press conference, these results wouldn't change mid-announcement. However, also around this time, there was a large, unexpected increase in tally sheet verification traffic coming an unauthorized server known as bo1. This was the first of the so-called hidden servers, both of which were used to relay routine traffic to the servers that warehoused the electoral data, but it's important to note that, according to the OAS, this server had been active all day relaying tally sheet verification traffic from the SERECI (Civil Registry Service). Ethical Hacking should've sent a notification about this server earlier, since it wasn't in the list provided to them that morning by Guzmán de Rojas, but failed to do so.
When the number of HTTP requests from bo1 increased, an event which began around 7:30PM, 10 minutes after the peak of tally sheet verifications, this activity was flagged by Ethical Hacking, who saw that the traffic was for tally sheet verifications and it was coming from an unauthorized IP address. They tried to call Guzmán de Rojas - who was working at the SERECI offices where the tally sheets were being verified, instead of with Ethical Hacking at the TSE offices - but couldn't reach him. They also consulted the DNTIC about the server, but they didn't recognize it. After two failed attempts to contact Guzmán de Rojas, they sounded a "maximum alert" to the TSE. Guzmán de Rojas says that at around 8:10 PM the utilities at the SERECI offices were cut, which put a stop to tally sheet verifications. Minutes later at 8:15 PM, he received a call from the TSE in which he was ordered to halt the TREP and to come to an urgent meeting at the TSE offices.
It's worth stopping for a moment to consider the explanation Guzmán de Rojas later gave of this unauthorized bo1 server:
(Note: Transmission operators are functionaries present at polling places who use an Android app developed by NEOTEC to transcribe each tally sheet and take a photo of it, sending this data to a cloud server operated by NEOTEC so that it can then be validated by the verification operators at the SERECI who independently transcribe the photo of the tally sheet.)
The bo1 server, a perimeter server (Nginx gateway), was used during the preparations for the election from 9/20/2019 onward. This server was used for the registration of transmission operators and verification operators, the training of verification operators, and during the testing of the transmission of results and the verification of tally sheets prior to the election.
The agent monitor ossec wasn't installed on this server. The server bo21 should've been used on Election Day, an instruction which wasn't carried out.
In his reports, he's vague about the reason for the error, only saying he should've used another server but failed to do so. In their report, Ethical Hacking describe how they performed an extensive security review of this server shortly after the stoppage, reviewing all its logs and checking for any malicious software, and found nothing to contradict Guzmán de Rojas. It really does seem that it was just some test server that was active when it shouldn't have been. Also, he showed the others that this server was where he stored historical data from previous elections, which would seem to support his claim about it being a test server.
What's absolutely clear is that the TSE wasn't in on this at all. Around 8:30PM, everyone meets at the TSE offices and, according to Ethical Hacking, an extremely tense scene ensues:
By this time, the president of the TSE and the board members, except for Dr. Costas, started to accuse Marcel Guzmán de Rojas of committing fraud. The situation became untenable. Everyone started shouting and accusing him of fraud. There was talk of calling the Attorney General, of calling the police. We had to intervene to calm the mood of the meeting.
Again, it simply does not make sense that the TSE was behind this server. What happened clearly took them by surprise and they were extremely hostile toward Guzmán de Rojas. This detail is not in any report, but a friend told me that he'd spoken to an ex-minister from the MAS who suspected Guzmán de Rojas had sabotaged the election, which seems unlikely but does help illustrate just how much the MAS distrusts him.
According to Guzmán de Rojas, the TSE presented him with three reasons at the 8:30PM meeting to justify their stoppage of the TREP:
1: The use of an unmonitored server, bo1.
2: The unexpected increase in tally sheet verification traffic from the bo1 server.
3: The sudden change in trend between the MAS and CC.
You can tell right away from the first two reasons that the inciting event of this entire catastrophe was the maximum alert about bo1. That's why they stopped the TREP. Because they thought the computer system was being manipulated. In fact, Ethical Hacking says that at the 8:30PM meeting it was again ordered that the TREP be stopped "until what happened can be verified" and it's clear this is a reference to the bo1 server. However, the TSE was alerted about more than just that server. Ethical Hacking also notified the TSE about cyberattacks from Colombia. Here's how the board member Edgar Gonzalez described it:
Regarding the bo1 server, Gonzáles claimed that it was the audit firm Ethical Hacking that pointed out that error, for which the whole board was called to a meeting where the board member Antonio Costas wasn't present. That meeting was between 8:30PM and 9:00PM on Election Day.
González explained that Marcel Guzmán de Rojas didn't declare that server and, "second of all, at that time the system was receiving a ton of attacks. That's what the IT person from the audit firm explained (to us). Something like 70,000 attacks from Colombia," the TSE board member specified in statements to Urgente.bo.
"That's what they told us, that the server was being attacked from overseas. Mr. Guzmán de Rojas (told us) that there was another server, an IP address that he hadn't declared and he apologized," he noted.
In Ethical Hacking's report, there's a section about this event, which they describe as a possible denial of service attack. According to a 6:58 PM email in their report, the public TREP results website had received over a million HTTP requests in less than an hour from a single IP address. Using a simple whois, I found that the IP address belongs to Centro Nacional de Consultoria in Bogotá, Colombia. Based on their website, they're a firm that does market research and corporate consulting, but most importantly they are a parent company of ViaCiencia, one of the principal polling firms for the election and the only one certified by the government to perform a quick count on Election Day. All their requests were for resources of the form https://trep.oep.org.bo/resul/resulActa/xxxxx/yy, which are JSON-formatted TREP vote counts. For example, if I wanted TREP vote counts for the presidential election (1) from tally sheet #71795, I'd request:
https://trep.oep.org.bo/resul/resulActa/71795/1
(Note: The website was deactivated in January 2020.)
It's clear from this and the large number of requests being generated that they were only scraping the TREP election results website, but there's a thin line between scraping and a denial of service attack, and these folks in Bogotá crossed it. The obvious solution to a single IP address drowning you in requests is to block it, but it's not clear that this happened. Ethical Hacking had no credentials to log in to the servers - only the notifications from their monitoring software - and may have had trouble reaching the person who did have the logins: Guzmán de Rojas. According to Edgar Gonzalez, word about this supposed cyberattack reached him as part of the alert about bo1, which helped set off a panic that resulted in the suspension of the TREP.
In his October 28th report, Guzmán de Rojas admits he shouldn't have used the bo1 server for the election, but insists the traffic level was absolutely normal. Ethical Hacking disagrees, claiming it's impossible for legitimate SERECI tally sheet verification traffic to reach "30,000 HTTP requests every 30 seconds," a figure taken from this traffic graph in their report:
Warning: The times in this graph are all one hour early, which is because Ethical Hacking is based in Panama. Also, you can see that Ethical Hacking's '30,000 requests per 30s' is actually 30,000 requests *per 5 minutes* (=3,000 per 30s).
This question of what constitutes normal traffic seems like the only point where Guzmán de Rojas and Ethical Hacking are in serious conflict about the facts. I'm inclined to trust Guzmán de Rojas here since it's his system and Ethical Hacking only had two weeks of experience with it. (Click here for a discussion of the bo1 traffic spike.)
At the end of Guzmán de Rojas's claim that the traffic was normal, he makes this comment:
If the use of the bo1 server and an increase in traffic were considered anomalies, this should've been warned about and cleared up before 7:30PM.
And he's right! Ethical Hacking should've flagged traffic from bo1 much earlier. You can see in their owb graph that bo1, the green line, had been active long before the labeled spike. In fact, the OAS says it had been active all day. It's possible Ethical Hacking didn't pay attention to it because, like the authorized servers, it had an IP address in a range reserved for private networks (format: 10.x.x.x), which really ought to have given them more pause about sending a maximum alert.
That traffic graph can be combined with other evidence to reconstruct some of the timeline of the TREP stoppage. The number of HTTP requests from bo1 began to spike at around 7:30PM Bolivia time. In their report, Ethical Hacking claims to have detected the traffic increase right at 7:30PM, but they may not have actually noticed until some minutes later, since the traffic level then was about equal with the previous peak. They called Guzmán de Rojas twice without success and consulted with the DNTIC, after which they sent their maximum alert to the TSE. I believe the TSE only learned about this alert between 7:53-7:58PM. I say this because from 7:50-7:53PM there was the TSE's preliminary results press conference, which was attended by all the board members, and none appear to be alarmed or hurried. The TSE president, María Eugenia Choque, even ends the event noting that there were still many rural votes to be counted, which would seem to imply she believed the TREP would continue. The latest the TSE would've learned about this alert was 7:58PM, which corresponds to the apparent first attempt to cut the SERECI's internet. This can be seen in unreleased electoral data which shows a 5-second pause followed by a change in the SERECI's IP address at 7:58:07PM, which appears to be their backup line. Then, at 8:06:44PM, their first IP address was restored and seconds later at 8:07PM, all tally sheet verifications ceased, so the utilities must've been cut. After this, according to Guzmán de Rojas, the TSE board (minus Costas) called him around 8:15PM and ordered him to halt the TREP.
If you'll recall, there was a third reason given to Guzmán de Rojas for the TREP suspension: a sudden change in trend between the MAS and CC. And for all the media coverage this reason has received, you'd think that it was the only one. It's taken for granted that the TSE had no real complaint except that the result appeared unfavorable for the MAS, but there's reason to believe there really was an apparent sudden change in trend. In particular, in this interview (and this one) Álvaro Andrade of Ethical Hacking says that in the lead-up to the press conference, there was a sharp reduction in the MAS's margin of victory over CC, which abruptly declined from 11-12 points to seven points, and that this prompted a request from the TSE to verify these numbers. Andrade explained way the decline by citing the verification of tally sheets from Santa Cruz, whose voters tend to oppose the MAS, but the problem with all of this is that, based on the public data, at no point did the MAS ever have an 11-12 point lead in the presidential election. It's not clear what occurred, but one striking detail that could explain it comes from the November 4th NEOTEC report, in which Guzmán de Rojas explains that the TREP system was set up to serially replicate election data from a primary server to a secondary server, then from this secondary server to a tertiary server, after which this tertiary server would serve as the data source for the TREP website. However, around 7:00 PM on Election Night the data replication process across these servers was unexpectedly slow, with the result that the tertiary server had a dataset that was, at most, about half the size of that of the first server. To ensure the press conference was held with the more complete data set, Guzmán de Rojas says he reconfigured the website to instead reference the first server, whose dataset was at least twice as large as the others'. It's possible that the phantom 11-12 point lead reflected an incomplete data set on the tertiary server, and that when the switch was made to the first server, this gave the appearance of a sudden change in trend. In his October 28th report, Guzmán de Rojas argued there was no change in trend, which he later interpreted as a lead change between the two parties, but it appears only to have been a question of whether the MAS would win outright in the first round. At the 8:30PM meeting, he tried to clear up the TSE board's concerns, but they weren't convinced and decided not to resume the TREP.
Also, in the OAS report, a shadowy figure appears at this time. A advisor who's not on any employee lists but is vouched for by the TSE. They withheld his name in the OAS report, but Alvaro Andrade later named him in an interview. This advisor is one Sergio Martínez. According to his LinkedIn profile, he'd recently done IT work at the National Institute of Statistics and had worked other government jobs prior. He began work as an IT contractor for the SERECI on October 8th, only four days after Ethical Hacking's own start. He appears in passing multiple times in the Ethical Hacking report, always in routine professional contexts: in two emails about security patches and audits on the 15th and in another from the 18th after he provided Andrade with a protocol to reinitialize the databases. He was also present for meetings after the TREP interruption on Election Night, where he appears to have proposed the configuration of a new perimeter server - bo20, the second of the hidden servers - that would be used for the verification of the remaining tally sheets, likely to resolve the conflict between Marcel Guzmán de Rojas and the TSE board, some of whom distrusted Marcel and had accused him of fraud. In a report provided to the OAS, the DNTIC said that this bo20 server was configured a day later by all of the important technical personnel: the DNTIC, NEOTEC, and Ethical Hacking (SIM SRL).
In his November 4th report to the TSE, Guzmán de Rojas offers this description of bo20:
On election night at the 20:00 (sic) meeting, the TSE decided to replace the bo1 server with a new server, bo20. This server was created and configured in the TSE's Amazon AWS server space. Just like the server bo1, the new server is a simple gateway, a reverse proxy using Nginx.
It's clear from statements he's made that he thought the TSE's complaints about bo1 and the excessive traffic were baseless, but there was no way of placating them except with another gateway server that was, as he explained, just like the one it was replacing.
The next day, according to NEOTEC's October 28th report, there was a meeting at 12:30PM between Guzmán de Rojas and the TSE where they all hashed out how to proceed. It was there that it was decided that the internet would be restored to the SERECI offices, the remaining TREP tally sheets would be processed, and then the publication of results would resume once this was completed. Also, a new IP address, this one belonging to the new bo20 server, was given to the SERECI by the DNTIC director for the verification of the remaining actas. Around 2:30PM, the SERECI had its internet restored and their TREP operators began to process tally sheets again. It would be another four hours, at 6:30PM, before the order was given to resume the publication of results, which resulted in a sharp discontinuity when the public website updated for the first time in nearly a day. In that time, 3831 tally sheets were verified and the MAS's margin over CC had grown from 7.87% to 10.15%, pushing it just over the critical 10% margin needed to win outright in the first round.
The rest of the story is less interesting, although some errors and bad practices are shocking for a production system in a national election. It all occurs in the Cómputo (official vote count) and it's scene after scene in which, say, there's a correction requested by an electoral official or a database error, so the DNTIC grants Marcel VPN access and he fixes the mistake in the only way he can: with a SQL command, as I'm sure he's done a million times in a million other elections. In most cases he appears to have permission from government officials, but he's not observed performing the changes. He simply does it, then documents in an email the SQL command he used, and then Ethical Hacking complains that he's not following procedure. There's also a WhatsApp chat log at the end of the Ethical Hacking report that shows there was an informal system between Windsor Saire, the director of the DNTIC, and Marcel Guzmán de Rojas which the two tried to document via email but which didn't appear to include the in-person supervision of Marcel.
(Note: There have been many complaints about the use of these SQL commands, which is terrible practice and even worse within the context of an election, but according to the contract Guzmán de Rojas had drawn up, the database (MySQL) history files on the TREP servers were being monitored in real time. After that second bug fix in the morning on Election Day, he said, 'With the bash (Linux command line) and MySQL history files, you can see what I did.' I'd expect Ethical Hacking to have monitored the same logs on the Cómputo servers, although it's unclear to me if this is the case. At any rate, if Guzmán de Rojas's emails are accurate, these SQL commands were all corrections of erroneous status values, not edits to vote totals.)
I'm confident there wasn't any data manipulation during the outage, and I think the belief that there was is due to the enormity of the technical fuck-ups and the bitterness of the political divisions in the country. Why? Because the final margin is predictable based on pre-interruption trends. Also, the OAS hasn't pointed to discrepancies between the digital and physical records, which for me would constitute strong evidence of data manipulation.
Sources:
  • Fragment from Ethical Hacking Report to TSE (10/28/2019, link)
  • NEOTEC Report to TSE #1 (10/28/2019, link)
  • NEOTEC Report to TSE #2 (11/4/2019, link)
  • Ethical Hacking Consolidated Timeline (v1.4, 11/6/2019, link)
  • OAS Preliminary Report (11/10/2019, link)
  • DNTIC Report to OAS about bo20 (11/11/2019, link)
  • OAS Final Report (12/4/2019, link)
  • Statement from Sergio Martínez (12/10/2019, link)
UPDATE #1: I wrote to Guzmán de Rojas to explain why I disagreed with the OAS report and to urge him to rebut it. To my great surprise, he responded.
UPDATE #2: Ex-TSE vice president Antonio Costas, who voted against certifying Evo Morales's candidacy and was the only board member with an IT background, points to human error as well. Some choice quotes from this October 23rd article:
"I get word that my colleagues (board members) were meeting with [Ethical Hacking] and NEOTEC. What happened is that there's a security protocol between the two firms and a part of the data was migrated in order to publish the data to another server, a movement which needed to be coordinated. [Ethical Hacking] detects this situation, and I think in this there was an excessively zealous protocol. Instead of making a big fuss, they should've sat down and looked at what happened. (...) They should've warned us," he said in an interview with Unitel.
(...)
"There's no fraud here. It was incompetence," he said.
(Other interviews: CNN, La Revista al Día, PAT, NTN, RED+. There's this, too, from 11 days before the election. Costas says that Ethical Hacking was "very demanding", but that they were helping to formalize processes that were somewhat improvisational and this would ultimately improve the TSE as an institution.)
UPDATE #3: The EU also published a report with a few interesting details. They explain that the TSE's original plan with the TREP was to make a single announcement at 8:00PM to avoid confusion with the official count, which they had done in prior elections, but 10 days before the election, under outside pressure, they agreed to two more announcements, one at midnight and another later on the 21st. It seems that, with the decision to suspend the TREP, the TSE tried to fall back to their original plan and in effect wash their hands of the TREP right there, but ultimately gave in to calls to resume it. Also, in the lead-up to the election, there were many dismissals and resignations of key TSE staff, which reduced its technical expertise for the election. It's possible this made the TSE more dependent on its contractors to perform the technical roles.
UPDATE #4: I obtained new electoral data and used it to make a timeline (in Spanish) of the progression of the TREP during the period when the publication of results was halted. The exact time of the interruption was 8:07 PM, at which point the MAS had a 9.02% lead with 95.06% of tally sheets transmitted and 89.98% verified in the presidential race.
UPDATE #5: I missed this uncharacteristically informative November 18th piece from Página Siete where Guzmán de Rojas and Andrade snipe at each other. Guzmán de Rojas denies BO1 was an unknown server, insisting it had been used in testing two days before the election and Andrade should've complained then. He also claims Andrade's erroneous "30,000 HTTP requests per 30 seconds" is a deliberate lie. For his part, Andrade says all the errors were the fault of Guzmán de Rojas, who violated the security protocol over and over. One odd detail is Andrade claims to have received a notification about BO1 at 6:49 (PM). This seems an hour too soon, so I assume he's citing it for the wrong time zone and actually means 7:49 PM, but I'm not sure.
UPDATE #6: A point which needs to be underlined is that NEOTEC (read: Guzmán de Rojas) was the only one with access to the TREP servers. Not even the government had logins. This point has been made by everyone. The TSE board said it. Alvaro Andrade said it. In fact, Guzmán de Rojas first appears in Andrade's report refusing to give him logins. It was the first item in that contract of his, too. DNTIC director Windsor Saire said it. Even Sergio Martinez said it. Any theory of data manipulation that doesn't centrally involve Guzmán de Rojas - who had a long track record, the support of the opposition, and was viewed skeptically by the MAS - is questionable.
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2019.11.10 18:13 ryu289 Apparently trans people aren't allowed to defend themselves

https://donotlink.it/b3A7A
The motive, according to police, was that McClimans (a/k/a “Claire Wolfever”) had recently revealed to his co-workers at Wal-Mart his intent to undergo gender reassignment, and didn’t like Hall’s reaction to this news. McClimans, 22, claimed to feel “threatened” by Hall, and had filed a complaint with Wal-Mart management, which was under investigation at the time of the November shooting. McClimans was charged with attempted murder and is awaiting trial.
No...Hall made actual threats apparently. https://www.wcn247.com/titanradio/our_community/wal-mart-shooting-suspect-says-he-endured-threats-over-gendearticle_775729dd-f8b7-5e7e-8740-80f7cbdef70f.html Apparently this wasn't disapproval
In January 2017, two months after McClimans shot Hall, another transgender employee of the same Wal-Mart had an encounter with police. A domestic violence call came into 911 from a woman who said her daughter (who was transitioning from female to male) had held a knife to her throat. When police officers responded to the scene, Sean Marie Hake (a/k/a Sean Ryan) was wielding a razor box-cutter:
Yes because parents can never be the cause of such domestic violence...https://www.wfmj.com/story/36330311/sharon-police-answer-suit-filed-over-transgender-shooting-death
Mercer County, Pennsylvania, is not a major urban area. It’s across the border from Youngstown, Ohio, and the county’s largest town, Hermitage, has a population of less than 17,000. Yet twice in a two-month span, local law enforcement was forced to deal with “Trannies Gone Wild” situations. This relates to a fact cited by the feminist site 4th Wave Now, which points out, “gender dysphoria occurs with troubling frequency in concert with a range of other mental disturbances, including personality disorders, depression, anxiety, and autism.”
Yes, but gender dysphoria is not the cause...https://www.reddit.com/AskSocialScience/comments/dlmxyx/why_is_there_a_high_comorbidity_between_gende https://web.archive.org/web/20190505202832/https://genderanalysis.net/2015/09/paul-mchugh-is-wrong-transitioning-is-effective-gender-analysis-10/
Given what we know about the dangerous prevalence of mental illness in the transgender population, isn’t a certain level of “transphobia” warranted? Zachary McClimans claimed to feel “threatened” by Jayson Hall, but who was it that got shot four times? And what about Sean Hake’s mother, who said her daughte“son” had held a knife to her throat? The media ignore this angle, however, and focus on the social-justice victimhood narrative.
Mainly because the mental illness angle is a red herring.
Tim Teeman of the Daily Beast is strictly following the victimhood narrative in asking, “Why Are So Many Transgender Women of Color Being Killed in America?” He leads with the case of Troy “TeeTee” Dangerfield, who was shot to death in the southside Atlanta suburb of College Park. If you know anything at all about the Atlanta area, murder in College Park isn’t usually a national headline kind of story. The population of College Park is about 80% black, and 75% of residents live in rental properties. The FBI has identified College Park as “statistically the region’s most unsafe community.” Getting murdered in College Park isn’t particularly difficult, and most of the crime victims there are “people of color,” so it’s unlikely “TeeTee” Dangerfield was killed because of his/“her” transgender status.
Well...https://www.theroot.com/1797518786 https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=https://www.transequality.org/sites/default/files/Meaningful%2520Work-Full%2520Report_FINAL_3.pdf&ved=2ahUKEwjznqHAkeDlAhUuhOAKHZTvB_YQFjAAegQIAxAB&usg=AOvVaw0Eyo5bS5Lc7chXbNpNXd_k
Try again...
If you look at the odd coincidence of two transgender Wal-Mart employees in Pennsylvania both being involved in violent incidents, and suggest that this might signify something about the connection between transgenderism and mental illness, you’re obviously a bigot.
No, you are a bigot because you confuse correlation with causation...
In 21st-century America, crazy men who think they’re women and crazy women who think they’re men are both subjects of fake news by the fake media, which refuse to employ any sane or honest people.
And you are sane for ignoring evidence? https://web.archive.org/web/20190505202832/https://genderanalysis.net/2015/09/paul-mchugh-is-wrong-transitioning-is-effective-gender-analysis-10/
https://web.archive.org/web/20180902070724/https://genderanalysis.net/2018/01/evidence-of-health-benefits-of-medical-transition-gender-dysphoria-body-image-sexual-functioning-and-quality-of-life/
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2019.09.15 20:00 candlejackstraw Today's Tutorial! 8x10 Church and Bridge, Local Scene. On stonehendge aqua paper, hake, rigger, quin gold, indigo and brown madder :) I have links to my different social medias in the comments if you would like to follow along https://youtu.be/aFdad1oSjgk

Today's Tutorial! 8x10 Church and Bridge, Local Scene. On stonehendge aqua paper, hake, rigger, quin gold, indigo and brown madder :) I have links to my different social medias in the comments if you would like to follow along https://youtu.be/aFdad1oSjgk submitted by candlejackstraw to Watercolor [link] [comments]


2019.08.08 15:27 MarleyEngvall that's e has been created

By Nathaniel Hawthorne THE PROPHETIC PICTURES.* *This story was suggested by an anecdote of Stuart related in Dunlap's History of the Arts of Designs——a most entertaining book to the gen- eral reader, and a deeply-interesting one, we should think, to the artist. "But this painter!" cried Walter Ludlow, with animation. "He not only excels in his peculiar art, but possesses vast acquirements in all other learning and science. He talks Hebrew with Dr. Mather and gives lectures in anatomy to Dr. Boylston. In a word, he will meet the best-in- structed man among us on his own ground. More- over, he is a polished gentleman——a citizen of the world——yes, a true cosmopolite; for he will speak like a native of each clime and country on the globe, except our own forests whither he is now going. Nor is all this what I most admire in him." "Indeed!" said Elinor, who had listened with a woman's interest to the description of such a man. "Yet this is admirable enough." "Surely it is," replied her lover, "but far less so than his natural gift of adapting himself to every variety of character, insomuch as all men——and all women, too, Elinor——shall find a mirror of themselves in this wonderful painter. But the greatest wonder is yet to be told." "Nay, if he have more wonderful attributes than these," said Elinor, laughing, "Boston is a perilous abode for the poor gentleman. Are you telling me of a painter, or a wizard?" "In truth," answered he, that question might be asked much more seriously than you suppose. They say that he paints not merely a man's features, but his mind and heart. He catches the secret sentiments and passions and throws them upon the canvas like sunshine, or perhaps, in portraits of dark-souled men, like a gleam of infernal fire. It is an awful gift," added Walter, lowering his voice from its tone of enthusiasm. "I shall be almost afraid to sit to him." "Walter, are you in earnest?" exclaimed Elinor. "For Heaven's sake, dearest Elinor, do not let him paint the look which you now wear," said her lover, smiling, though rather perplexed. "There, it is passing away now; but when you spoke you seemed frightened to death, and very sad besides. What were you thinking of?" "Nothing, nothing!" answered Elinor, hastily, "You may paint my face with your own fantasies. Well, come for me to-morrow, and we will visit this won- derful artist." But when the young man had departed, it cannot be denied that a remarkable expression was again visible on the fair and youthful face of his mistress. It was a sad and anxious look, little in accordance with what should have been the feelings of a maiden on the eve of wedlock. Yet Walter Ludlow was the chosen of her heart. "A look!" said Elinor to herself. "No wonder that it startled him if it expressed what I sometimes feel. I know by my own experience how frightful a look may be. But it was all fancy. I thought nothing of it at the time; I have seen nothing of it since; I did but dream it." And she busied herself about the embroidery of a ruff in which she meant that her portrait should be taken. The painter of whom they had been speaking was not one of those native artists who, at a later period than this, borrowed their colors from the Indians and manufactured their pencils of the furs of wild beasts. Perhaps, if he could have revoked his life and prearranged his destiny, he might have chosen to belong to that school without a master in the hope of being at least original, since there were no works of art to imitate nor rules to follow. But he had been born and educated in Europe. People said that he had studied the grandeur or beauty of conception and every touch of the master-hand in all the most famous pictures in cabinets and galleries and on the walls of churches till there was nothing more for his for his powerful mind to learn. Art could add nothing to its lessons, but Nature might. He had, therefore, visited a world whither none of his professional brethren had preceded him, to feast his eyes on visible images that were noble and picturesque, yet had never been transferred to canvas. America was too poor to afford other temptations to an artist of eminence, though many of the colonial gentry, on the painter's arrival, had expressed a wish to transmit their lineaments to posterity by means of his skill. Whenever such pro- posals were made, he fixed his piercing eyes on the applicant and seemed to look him through and through. If he beheld only a sleek and comfortable visage, though there were a gold-laced coat to adorn the picture and golden guineas to pay for it, he civilly rejected the task and the reward. But if the face were the index of anything uncommon in thought, sentiment or experience; or if he met a beggar in the street with a white beard and a fur- rowed brow; or if sometimes a child happened to look up and smile; he would exhaust all the art on them that he denied to wealth. Pictorial skill became so rare in the colonies, the painter became an object of general curiosity. If few or none could appreciate the technical merit of his productions, yet there were points in regard to which the opinion of the crowd was as valuable as the refined judgment of the amateur. He watched the effect that each picture produced on such unuttered beholders, and derived profit from their remarks, while they would as soon have thought of instructing Nature herself as him who seemed to rival her. Their admiration, it must be owned, was tinctured with the prejudices of the age and coun- try. Some deemed it an offense against the Mosaic law, and even a presumptuous mockery of the Creator, to bring into existence such lively images of his creatures. Others, frightened at the art which could raise phantoms at will and keep the form of the dead among the living, were inclined to con- sider the painter as a magician, or perhaps the famous Black Man of old witch-times plotting mis- chief in a new guise. These foolish fancies were more than half believed among the mob. Even in superior circles his character was invested with a vague awe, partly rising like smoke-wreaths from the popular superstitions, but chiefly caused by the varied knowledge and talents which he made sub- servient to his profession. Being on the verge of marriage, Walter Ludlow and Elinor were eager to obtain their portraits as the first of what, they doubtless hoped, would be a long series of family pictures. The day after the conversation above recorded they visited the painter's rooms. A servant ushered them into an apartment where, though the artist himself was not visible, there were personages whom they could hardly forbear greeting with reverence. They knew, indeed, that the whole assembly were but pictures, yet felt it impossible to separate the idea of life and intellect from such striking counterfeits. Several of the portraits were known to them either as distin- guished characters of the day or their private acquaintances. There was Governor Burnett, look- ing as if he had just received an undutiful communi- cation from the House of Representatives and were inditing a most sharp response. Mr. Cook hung beside the ruler whom he opposed, sturdy and somewhat puritanical, as befitted a popular leader. The ancient lady of Sir William Phipps eyed them from the wall in ruff and farthingale, an imperious old dame not unsuspected of witchcraft. John Winslow, then a very young man, wore the expres- sion of warlike enterprise which long afterward made him a distinguished general. Their personal friends were recognized at a glance. In most of the pictures the whole mind and character were brought out on the countenance and concentrated into a single look; so that, to speak paradoxically the originals hardly resembled themselves so strik- ingly as the portraits did. Among these modern worthies there were two old bearded saints who had almost vanished into the darkening canvas. There was also a pale but unfaded Madonna, who had perhaps been worshiped in Rome, and now regarded the lovers with such a mild and holy look that they longed to worship too. "How singular a thought," observed Walter Lud- low, "that this beautiful face has been beautiful for above two hundred years! Oh, if all beauty would endure so well! Do you not envy her, Elinor?" "If heaven were earth, I might," she replied. "But where all things fade, how miserable to be the one that could not fade!" "This dark old St. Peter has a fierce and ugly scowl, saint though he be," continued Walter; "he troubles me. But the Virgin looks kindly at us." "Yes, but very sorrowfully, methinks," said Elinor. The easel stood beneath these three old pictures, sustaining one that had been recently commenced. After a little inspection they began to recognize the features of their own minister, the Rev. Dr. Colman, growing into shape and life, as it were, out of a cloud. "Kind old man!" exclaimed Elinor. "He gazes at me as if he were about to utter a word of pa- ternal advice." "And at me," said Walter, as if he were about to hake his head and rebuke me for some sus- pected iniquity. But so does the original. I shall never feel quite comfortable under his eye till we stand before him to be married." They now heard a footstep on the floor, and turning, beheld the painter, who had been some moments in the room and had listened to a few of their remarks. He was a middle-aged man with a countenance well worthy of his own pencil. In- deed, by the picturesque though careless arrange- ment of his rich dress, and perhaps because his soul dwelt always among painted shapes, he looked somewhat like a portrait himself. His visitors were sensible of a kindred between the artist and his works, and felt as if one of the pictures had stepped from the canvas to salute them. Walter Ludlow, who was slightly known to the painter, explained the object of their visit. While he spoke a sunbeam was falling athwart his figure and Elinor's, with so happy an effect that they also seemed living pictures of youth and beauty glad- dened by bright fortune. The artist was evidently struck. "My easel is occupied for several ensuing days, and my stay in Boston must be brief," said he thoughtfully; then, after an observant glance, he added, "but your wishes shall be gratified though I disappoint the chief-justice and Madam Oliver. I must not lose this opportunity for the sake of painting a few ells of broadcloth and brocade." The painter expressed a desire to introduce both their portraits into one picture and represent them engaged in some appropriate action. This plan would have delighted the lovers, but was necessarily rejected because so large a space of canvas would have been unfit for the room which it was intended to decorate. Two half-length portraits were there- fore fixed upon. After they take their leave, Wal- ter Ludlow asked Elinore, with a smile, whether she knew what an influence over their fates the painter was about to acquire. "The old women of Boston affirm," continued he, "that after he once got possession of a per- son's face and figure he may paint him in any act or situation whatever, and the picture will be prophetic. Do you believe it?" "Not quite," said Elinor, smiling. "Yet if he has such magic, there is something so gentle in his manner that I am sure he will use it well." It was the painter's choice to proceed with both the portraits at the same time, assigning as a reason, in the mystical language which he sometimes used, that the faces threw light upon each other. Accord- ingly, he gave now a touch to Walter and now to Elinor, and the features of one and the other began to start forth so vividly that it appeared as if his triumphant art would actually disengage them from the canvas. Amid the rich light and deep shade they beheld their phantom selves, but, though the likeness promised to be perfect, they were not quite satisfied with the expression; it seemed more vague than in most of the painter's works. He, however, was satisfied with the prospect of success, and, being much interested in the lovers, employed his leisure moments, unknown to them, in making a crayon sketch of their two figures. During their sittings he engaged them in conversation and kindled up their faces with characteristic traits, which, though continually varying, it was his pur- pose to combine and fix. At length he announced that at their next visit both the portraits would be ready for delivery. "If my pencil will but be true to my conception in the few last touches which I meditate," observed he, "these two pictures will be my very best per- formances. Seldom indeed has an artist such sub- jects." While speaking he still bent his penetrative eye upon them, nor withdrew it till they had reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing in the whole circle of human vanities takes stronger hold of the imagination that this affair of having a portrait painted. Yet why should it be so? The looking-glass, the polished globes of the andirons, the mirror-like water, and all other reflecting surfaces, continually present us with the por- traits——or, rather, ghosts——of our selves which we glance at and straightaway forget them. But we forget them only because they vanish. It is the idea of duration——of earthly immortality——that gives such a mysterious interest to our own portraits. Walter and Elinor were not insensible to this feeling, and hastened to the painter's room punctu- ally at the appointed hour to meet those pictured shapes which were to be their representatives with posterity. The sunshine flashed after them into the apartment, but left it somewhat gloomy as they closed the door. Their eyes were im- mediately attracted to their portraits, which rested against the farthest wall of the room. At the first glance through the dim light and the distance, seeing themselves in precisely their natural attitudes and with all the air that they recognized so well, they uttered a simultaneous exclamation of delight. "There we stand," cried Walter, enthusiasti- cally, "fixed in sunshine forever. No dark passions can gather on our faces." "No," said Elinor, more calmly; "no dreary change can sadden us." This was said while they were approaching and had yet gained only an imperfect view of the pictures. The painter, after saluting them, busied himself at a table in completing a crayon sketch, leaving his visitors to form their own judgment as to his perfected labors. At intervals he sent a glance from beneath his deep eyebrows, watching their countenances in profile with his pencil sus- pended over the sketch. They had now stood some moments, each in front of the other's picture, contemplating it with entranced attention, but without uttering a word. At length Walter stepped forward, then back, viewing Elinor's portrait in various lights, and finally spoke. "Is there not a change?" said he in a doleful and meditative tone. "Yes; the perception of it grows more vivid the longer I look. It is certainly the same picture that I saw yesterday; the dress, the features, all the same, and yet something is altered." "Is then, the picture less like than it was yester- day?" inquired the painter, now drawing near with irrepressible interest. "The features are perfect, Elinor," answered Walter, "and at the first glance the expression seemed also hers; but I could fancy that the por- trait has changed countenance while I have been looking at it. The eyes are fixed on mine with a strangely sad and anxious expression. Nay, it is grief and terror. Is this like Elinor?" "Compare the living face with the pictured one," said the painter. Walter glanced sidelong at his mistress, and started. Motionless and absorbed, fascinated, as it were, in contemplation of Walter's portrait, Elinor's face had assumed precisely the expres- sion of which he had just been complaining. Had she practiced for whole hours before a mir- ror, she could not have caught the look so suc- cessfully. Had the picture itself been a mirror, it could not have thrown back her present aspect with stronger and more melancholy truth. She appeared quite unconscious of the dialogue e- tween the artist and her lover. "Elinor," exclaimed Walter, in amazement, "what change has come over you?" She did not hear him or desist from her fixed gaze till he seized her hand, and thus attracted her notice; then with a sudden tremor she looked from the picture to the face of the original. "Do you see no change in your portrait?" asked she. "In mine? None," replied Walter, examining it. "But let me see. Yes; there is a slight change——an improvement, I think, in the picture, though none in the likeness. It has a livelier ex- pression than yesterday, as if some bright thought were flashing from the eyes and about to be uittered from the lips. Now that I have caught the look, it becomes very decided." While he was intent on these observations Elinor trusted to the painter. She regarded him with grief and awe, and felt that he repaid her with sympathy and commiseration, though wherefore she could but vaguely guess. "That look," whispered she, and shuddered. "How came it there?" "Madam," said the painter, sadly, taking her hand and leading her apart, "in both these pict- ures I have painted what I saw. The artist——the true artist——must look beneath the exterior. It is his gift——his proudest, but often a melancholy one ——to see the inmost soul, and by a power indefin- able even to himself to make it glow or darken upon the canvas in glances that express the thought and sentiment of years. Would that I might con- vince myself of error in the present instance!" They had now approached the table, on which were heads in chalk, hands almost as expensive as ordinary faces, ivied church-towers, thatched cot- tages, old thunder-stricken trees, Oriental and an- tique costume, and all such picturesque vagaries of an artist's idle moments. Turning them over with seeming carelessness, a crayon sketch of two figures was disclosed. "If I have failed," continued he——"if your heart does not see itself reflected in your own portrait, if you have no secret cause to trust my delineation of the other——it is not yet too late to alter them. I might change the action of these figures too. But would it influence the event?" He directed her notice to the sketch. A thrill ran through Elinor's frame; a shriek was upon her lips, but she stifled it with the self- command that becomes habitual to all who hide thoughts of fear and anguish within their bosoms. Turning from the table, she perceived that Walter had advanced near enough to have seen the sketch, though she could not determine whether it had caught his eye. "We will not have the pictures altered," said she, hastily. "If mine is sad, I shall but look the gayer for the contrast." "Be it so," answered the painter, bowing, "May your griefs be such fanciful ones that only your picture may mourn for them! For your joys, may they be true and deep, and paint themselves upon this lovely face till it quite belie my art!" After the marriage of Walter and Elinor the pict- ures formed the two most splendid ornaments of their abode. They hung side by side, separated by a narrow panel, appearing to the eye each other constantly, yet always returning the gaze of the spectator. Traveled gentlemen who professed a knowledge of such subjects reckoned these among the most admirable specimens of modern portrait- ure, while common observers compared them with the originals, feature by feature, and were rapturous in praise of the likeness. But it was on a third class——neither traveled connoisseurs nor common observers, but people of natural sensibility——that the pictures wrought their strongest effect. Such per- sons might gaze carelessly at first, but, becoming interested, would return day after day and study these painted faces like the pages of a mystic vol- ume. Walter Ludlow's portrait attracted their earliest notice. In the absence of himself and his bride they sometimes disputed as to the expression which the painter had intended to throw upon the features, all agreeing that there was a look of earnest import, though no two explained it alike. There was less diversity of opinion in regard to Elinor's picture. They differed, indeed, in their attempts to estimate the nature and depth of the gloom that dwelt upon her face, but agreed that it was gloom and alien from the natural temperament of their youthful friend. A certain fanciful person an- nounced as the result of much scrutiny that both these pictures were part of one design, and that the melancholy strength of feeling in Elinor's coun- tenance bore reference to the more vivid emotion ——or, as he termed it, the wild passion——in that of Walter. Though unskilled in the art, he even began a sketch in which the action of the two figures was to correspond with their mutual expression. It was whispered among friends that day by day Elinor's face was assuming a deeper shade of pen- siveness which threatened soon to render her too true a counterpart of her melancholy picture. Wal- ter, on the other hand, instead of acquiring the vivid look which the painter had given him on the canvas, became reserved and downcast, with no out- ward flashes of emotion, however it might be smoul- dering within. In the course of time Elinor hung a gorgeous curtain of purple silk, wrought with flowers and fringed with heavy golden tassels, before the pictures, under pretense that the dust would tarnish their hues or the light dim them. It was enough. Her visitor felt that the massive folds of the silk must never be withdrawn nor the portraits men- tioned in her presence. Time wore on, and the painter came again. He had been far enough to the north to see the silver cascade of the Crystal Hills, and to look over the vast round of cloud and forest from the summit of New England's loftiest mountain. But he did not profane that scene by the mockery of his art. He had also lain in a canoe on the bosom of Lake George, making his soul the mirror of its loveliness and grandeur till not a picture in the Vatican was more vivid than his recollection. He had gone with the Indian hunters to Niagara, and there, again, had flung his hopeless pencil down the precipice, feeling that he could as soon paint the roar as aught else that goes to make up the wondrous cata- ract. In truth, it was seldom his impulse to copy natural scenery except as a framework for the delineations of the human form and face instinct with thought, passion or suffering. With store of such his adventurous ramble had enriched him. The stern dignity of Indian chiefs, the dusky loveliness of Indian girls; the domestic life of wigwams, the stealthy march, the battle beneath gloomy pine trees, the frontier fortress with its garrison, the anomaly of the old French partisan bred in courts, but grown gray in shaggy deserts,——such were the scenes and portraits that he had sketched. The glow of perilous moments, flashes of wild feeling, struggles of fierce power, love, hate, grief, frenzy—— in a word, all the wornout heart of the old earth—— had been revealed to him under a new form. His portfolio was filled with graphic illustrations of the volume of his memory which genius would transmute into his own substance and imbue with immortality. He felt that the deep wisdom in his art which he had sought so far was found. But amid stern or lovely nature, in the perils of the forest or its overwhelming peacefulness, still there had been two phantoms, the companions of his way. Like all other men around whom an engross- ing purpose wreathes itself, he was insulated from the mass of humankind. He had no aim, no pleasure, no sympathies, but what were ultimately connected with his art. Though gentle in manner and upright in intent and action, he did not possess kindly feelings; his heart was cold: no living crea- ture could be brought near enough to keep him warm. For these two beings, however, he had felt in its greatest intensity the sort of interest which always allied him to the subjects of his pencil. He had pried into their souls with his keenest insight and pictured the result upon their features with his utmost skill, so as barely to fall short of that stand- ard which no genius ever reached, his own severe conception. He had caught from the duskiness of the future——at least, so he fancied——a fearful secret, and had obscurely revealed it on the por- traits. So much of himself——of his imagination and all other powers——had been lavished on the study of Walter and Elinor that he almost regarded them as creations of his own, like the thousands with which he had peopled the realms of Picture. Therefore did they flit through the twilight of the noontide sun. They haunted his pictorial fancy, not as mockeries of life nor pale goblins of the dead, but in the guise of portraits, each with an un- alterable expression which his magic had evoked from the caverns of the soul. He could not recross the Atlantic till he had again beheld the originals of those airy pictures. "O glorious Art!" Thus mused the enthusiastic painter as he trod the street. "Thou art the image of the Creator's own. The innumerable forms that wander in nothingness start into being at thy beck. The dead live again. Thou recallest them to their old scenes and givest their gray shadows the lustre of a better life, at once earthly and immortal. Thou snatchest back the fleeting moments of history. With thee there is no past, for at thy touch all that is great becomes forever present, and illustrious men live through long ages in the visible perform- ance of the very deeds which made them what they are. O potent Art! as thou bringest the faintly- revealed past to stand in that narrow strip of sun- light which we call 'now,' canst thou summon the shrouded future to meet her there? Have I not achieved it? Am I not thy Prophet" Thus with a proud yet melancholy fervor did he almost cry aloud as he passed through the toilsome street among people that knew not of his reveries nor could understand nor care for them. It is not good for man to cherish a solitary ambition. Un- less there be those around him by whose example he may regulate himself, his thoughts, desires and hopes will become extravagant and he the semblance ——perhaps the reality——of a madman. Reading other bosoms with an acuteness almost preternat- ural, the painter failed to see the disorder of his own. "And this should be the house," said he, look- ing up and down the front before he knocked. "Heaven help my brains! That picture! Methinks it will never vanish. Whether I look at the windows or the door, there it is framed within them, painted strongly and glowing in the richest tints——the faces of the portraits, the figures and action of the sketch." He knocked. "The Portraits——are they within?" inquired he of the domestic; then, recollecting himself, "your master and mistress——are they at home?" "They are, sir," said the servant, adding, as he noticed that picturesque aspect of which the painter could never divest himself, "and the portraits too." The guest was admitted into a parlor communi- cating by a central door with an interior room of the same size. As the first apartment was empty, he passed to the entrance of the second, within which his eyes were greeted by those of living per- sonages, as well as their pictured representatives, who had long been the objects of so singular an interest. He involuntarily paused on the threshold. They had not perceived his approach. Walter and Elinor were standing before the portraits, whence the former had just flung back the rich and voluminous folds of the silken curtain, holding its golden tassel with one hand, while the other grasped that of his bride. The pictures, concealed for months, gleamed forth again in undiminished splendor, appearing to throw a somber light across the room rather than be disclosed by a borrowed radiance. That of Elinor had been almost pro- phetic. A pensiveness, and next a gentle sorrow, had successively dwelt upon her countenance, deep- ening with the lapse of time into a quiet anguish. A mixture of affright would now have made it the very expression of the portrait. Walter's face was moody and dull or animated only by fitful flashes which left a heavier darkness for their momentary illumination. He looked from Elinor to her portrait, and thence to his own, in the con- templation of which he finally stood absorbed. The painter seemed to hear the step of Destiny approaching behind him on its progress toward its victims. A strange thought darted into his mind. Was not his own the form in which Destiny had embodied itself, and he a chief agent of the coming evil which he had foreshadowed? Still, Walter remained silent before the picture, communing with it as with his own heart and abandoning himself to the spell of evil influence that the painter had cast upon the features. Grad- ually his eyes kindled, while as Elinor watched the increasing wildness of his face her own assumed a look of terror; and, when at last, he turned upon her, the resemblance of both to their portraits was complete. "Our fate is upon us!" howled Walter. "Die!" Drawing a knife, he sustained her as she was sinking to the ground, and aimed it at her bosom. In the action and in the look and attitude of each the painter beheld the figures of his sketch. The picture with all its tremendous coloring, was finished. "Hold, madman!" cried he, sternly. He had advanced from the door and interposed himself between the wretched beings with the same sense of power to regulate their destiny as to alter a scene upon the canvas. He stood like a magician controlling the phantoms which he had evoked. "What!" muttered Walter Ludlow, as he re- lapsed from fierce excitement into sullen gloom. "Does Fate impede its own decree?" "Wretched lady," said the painter, "did I not warn you?" "You did," replied Elinor, calmly, as her terror gave place to the quiet grief which it had disturbed. "But——I loved him." Is there not a deep moral in the tale? Could the result of one or all our deeds be shadowed forth and set before us, some would call it Fate and hurry onward, others be swept along by their passionate desires, and none be turned aside by the prophetic pictures. 
From Twice-Told Tales, Vol. I, by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Ten Cent Classics Edition; Educational Publishing Co., 50 Bromfield St, Boston; pp. 171—188.
Jet fuel does not burn hot enough to melt steel. 9/11 was a big lie, and everybody knows it.
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2019.08.02 21:55 doctorgecko Let's look at Ash Ketchum's physicals: Special/Energy durability

Original thread so I don't have to explain what I'm doing again.
And now on to the next stat

Special/Energy Durability

About this stat: Once again durability tends to be his best stat, and physical durability is no exception. I'll take this segment by segment. Note that durability, more than any other stat, starts falling into the question of what qualifies as a gag feat. As I don't think there's a clear line, your mileage may vary on some of these.
Fire
For fire probably the most iconic way Ash gets burned is from his Charizard, who has a tendency to roast him both pre and post loyalty (pre-loyalty it was a way to say fuck off, post-loyalty it's a way to show affection). These can fall into the category of gags, but it's probably worth mentioning that even trying to hold back Charizard's flamethrower was blackening rock,AG and this is what he looks like actually holding back to light a camp fireAG
Beyond this... his fire/heat durability runs the whole gambit. You've got gag scenes where he can barely take any (like Fennekin), gag scenes where he can take a lot (like Turtonator), serious scenes where he's in serious danger (like Hunter J), and serious scenes where he can take a lot (like Monferno). Ash can defninitely take fire and heat a lot better than a real life person, but how well varies from episode to episode.
Ice
Ash has a lot of instances of being frozen in a block of ice, and being fine after being thawed out. However a lot of ice attacks it's not clear how hard he was hit, and more direct and powerful cold has put him in serious danger repeated times.
Electricity
Electrical Durability is Ash's best stat
No contest
This is like 95% due to his partner being Pikachu, and him shocking Ash being a recurring gag. But even beyond that, given how many times the Pokemon anime likes to do "Pikachu loses control" or "Pikachu gets mind controlled," you have a lot of instances of Ash being shocked while Pikachu isn't holding back.
It's also not just Pikachu, or even Pokemon, that Ash can take electricity. And while there are times it leaves him more frazzled than others, for the most part if you want to kill Ash with electricity... good luck.
Electricity - Pikachu
Electricty - Other Pokemon
Misc Special
This sort of works the same way as Ash's physical durability. You've got some decently impressive stuff even with no scaling, some feats that get absolutely ridiculous with scaling, and some anti-feats that all ultimately average down to superhuman durability of at least some level, though as with everything it can vary from episode to episode.
The Yveltal feat is just a meme if taken at face value though.
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2019.07.13 16:35 ConorCulture Booking NXT TakeOver’s For the Next Year - Part 1: NXT TakeOver Toronto and Build to NXT TakeOver WarGames: III

NXT TakeOver: Toronto:**
North American Championship Match - KUSHIDA vs. Matt Riddle
This match would mainly be built upon the hype for the TakeOver debut of KUSHIDA. KUSHIDA gets dominant wins throughout the summer and announces that he wants a match for the North American Championship at TakeOver Toronto. Matt Riddle - Who recently beat Velveteen Dream for the title on an episode of NXT - comes out and tells KUSHIDA that he’s ”totally down for the match bro” and then it’s made official. Matt Riddle acts all chill in the build although he is a bit scared of what KUSHIDA can do. KUSHIDA continues to get wins going into this match undefeated. He competes in a Six-Man Tag 2 weeks before Toronto, teaming with Isaiah ”Swerve” Scott and Angel Garza against Matt Riddle, Jordan Myles and Tyler Breeze. KUSHIDA’s team win the match which gives KUSHIDA an edge going into the match as he just beat Riddle, can Riddle redeem himself?
KUSHIDA and Matt Riddle have a fun and hot opener. KUSHIDA gets an awesome debut entrance coming out as Marty McFly as the crowd chant his name in unity. KUSHIDA starts the match fast to try and through Riddle off guard but Riddle is one step ahead and uses his MMA abilities to grapple down with KUSHIDA. KUSHIDA continues to use his high flying and striker abilities, countering a Triangle Choke into a Penalty Kick. KUSHIDA goes to the top ropes for a Midnight Express but Riddle catches him into a Exploder Suplex position, pulls him down from the ropes and hits the Exploder Suplex into the middle ropes! Riddle starts to come down with stomps and the ref pulls him off KUSHIDA. As KUSHIDA gets to his feet Riddle sprints for a devastating Knee Strike but Riddle catches that into a Rocket Kick!!
They do a lot of back and forth action until KUSHIDA slides out of a Rear Naked Choke and locks in his Hoverboard Lock. Matt Riddle looks like he’s out but manages to get out of it. KUSHIDA goes for a Superkick from the corner but Riddle counters into a Headlock. KUSHIDA kips Up Out Of The Attack and grabs Riddle’s hand for an Elevated Knee Strike. KUSHIDA struggles to his feet and starts to scale the ropes. He finally hits the Midnight Express! He rolls up the pin! 1...2..3! KUSHIDA wins the North American Championship! The crowd go nuts as KUSHIDA leaps into the crowd to celebrate his title!
Kushida wins the match and becomes your new North American Champion! ( 13 Minutes )
NXT Tag Team Championships - Street Profits vs. Undisputed Era
Kyle O’Reilly and Bobby Fish demand a rematch for the NXT Tag Team Championships against what they calls ”dumbass dancers” for taking UE’s Tag Titles. Seeing as rematch clauses exist ( which the Main Roster forgets a lot ) Undisputed Era are able to get there rematch. Kyle O’Reilly and Bobby Fish work a match on NXT TV against Forgotten Sons in an entertaining match but a bump on the apron tweaks O’Reilly’s Knee. Seeing as O’Reilly took some hard bumps in the ladder match - especially Kyle - this bump causes more damage than it would Normally cause. Bobby Fish picks up the win for the team but O’Reilly is hurt but is in good enough condition to work the match.
Montez Ford and Angelo Dawkins get a video package before the match showing off they’re lives as kids growing up and finally being able to reach this stage. They may not be the most technical or flying teams out there but where they are know has made each man more happy than they have ever been. Undisputed Era are good, very good, but there’s no way they’re taking these titles.
It’s a fun and exciting classic NXT Tag Team Match with fast Chains and high spots. Bobby Fish starts to match so O’Reilly doesn’t have to work due to his injury and after some good work with Montez Ford, Fish Tags In O’Reilly. O’Reilly works well and his able to hold his own with Ford. Ford Tag in Angelo Dawkins and O’Reilly goes for a cheap shot Knee Strike as Dawkins is walking through the ropes but that calls back the hurt knee and Dawkins takes advantage. Undisputed Era carry on in the match but at the climax of the match, Street Profits win after they’re using an epic double team move. Undisputed Era are visibly pissed as they walk to the back.
Street Profits retain their NXT Tag Team Championships! ( 15 Minutes )
Singles Match - Keith Lee vs. Isaiah ”Swerve” Scott
Isaiah Scott as many of you know is the WWE name of Indy Star, Shane Strickland. I’d have him start making televised appearances just after TakeOver 25 and quickly get into feud with Keith Lee. It’d be a simple feud of who is the better man with Keith Lee trying to prove he is a top star and not some boring Midcarder. Keith Lee works some good matches in the build also to hype up this match. Swerve goes into the match cocky and undefeated playing a bit of a tweener as he’s cocky yet the fans love him and Keith Lee being the freakish monster.
It’s a David vs. Goliath match as you’d expect. Scott attempts to use his flying abilities to outdo Keith Lee but Keith Lee himself is a flyer and uses that to take advantage. Swerve goes for a Handspring Back Elbow but Keith Lee Costner’s into a Pendelum Backbreaker. Keith Lee hits a Standing Moonsault to the crowds surprise. Keith Lee runs into the corner for a Crossbody off the ropes but he stops himself by putting is foot on the ropes, he uses his foot to pull himself to the top rope and come down with a Crossbody! But midair Swerve hits a Codebreaker!!
After he lands the Codebreaker, Scott is shocked at Keith Lee’s ability and plays underdog throughout the match trying to beat the freakish monster of Keith Lee. He uses some cool techniques like countering a Hurricanerana by Landing on his feet and hitting a Pele Kick to get himself an edge. They go back and forth some more with more cool action. Swerve is on the top rope looking to go for a Moonsault but Keith Lee gets to the top and hits an amazing Green Bay Plunge from the top ropes, 1...2..3! Keith Lee wins the match defeating Isaiah Scott after a good match.
Keith Lee picks up the win! ( 15 Minutes )
Street Fight for the NXT Women’s Championship - Io Shirai vs. Shayna Baszler
I’d keep the thing of Shirai attacking Shayna after the match at TaekOver 25 out of frustration of not being able to win the NXT Women’s Championship. Regal gets annoyed at Shirai for doing this. Shirai asks for a rematch against Shayna Baszler which Regal accepts but says to make sure that this doesn’t end in a flook, it’s a Street Fight. Shirai says that she will end Shayna once and for all and end her reign of terror as NXT Women’s Championship. Shirai really means “end” as she promises to send Baszler out of NXT and kill this blight on Women’s Wrestling.
It’s a violent and chaotic match as you’d expect from a Street Fight. At a few points in the match Shirai looks like she’s in genuine danger because of the violence of Baszler. Weapons are used with Shirai at one point going insane with a chair on all 3 of the MMA Horsewomen and even hitting a Spear off the apron, through a table. Shayna herself at times looks like she’s the match won, but Shirai gets out of it. Shirai also at times looks like she’s the match won but Baszler avoids it to make it even more unpredictable. In the end after the long match, a huge spot where Shirai sends Shayna through a stack of tables, turn is just able to roll her in the ring and get the cover, making Io Shirai your new NXT Women’s Champion!
After the match Shirai cuts a quick promo saying she will be a fighting champion, then we hear familiar music....It’s Dakota Kai! Dakota Kai makes her NXT return! Kai comes out to a big pop as she waves at the crowd and high fives them as she walks down to the ring. Dakota Kai challenges Io Shirai for the NXT Women’s Championship at TakeOver: WarGames 3. Shirai accepts and they shake hands afterwards. A video pops on the screen of an ad for NXT TakeOver WarGames 3! It shows action of various NXT Wrestlers, it shows clips of previous WarGames and finally the graphic for Io Shirai vs. Dakota Kai!
After the chaotic and unpredictable war, Io Shirai wins the match and becomes your new NXT Women’s Champion! ( 20 Minutes )
Submission Match for the NXT Championship - Adam Cole vs. Johnny Gargano
The final match in this trilogy will take place in the main event of NXT TakeOver: Toronto! The match having now stipulation at TakeOver: XXV was a bit eh to me to for the final match I’d add a special stipulation. The ultimate match-type, You’ll need wits, intensity and endurance for, a Submission Match! The match is made a Submission Match to rightfully prove who is the best wrestler when one man must voluntarily give up for the match to end. Gargano says in the build he needs this win. For his family, for his brother Ciampa, for his legacy in NXT, he needs this win. Adam Cole is the cocky heel but because O’Reilly and Fish are busy with the Tag Titles and Roddy and Cole have been a little shaky recently, so he goes into this match alone. The two have a stare down the go home week before the show. In the build we see video packages of Gargano training as hard as he can at the gym and stuff. He has his Won trainer who we get some words from then Gargano talks about how much he needs this win. The match is fully hyped by the go home week and everyone is set for this blockbuster of a showdown!
Adam Cole comes out to his Singles theme https://youtu.be/xG-rly6ieUE fully ready for the match. It’s the ultimate match, both men pull out all the big moves, all the big spots, each man trying to take each other down. It’s Strong Style, It’s High Flying, It’s Technical, It’s Story, It’s Passion, It’s NXT. Falls Finishes, Constant Reversals are also a trademark of this clash as both men go to war. Adam Cole lines up his final Last Shot, but Gargano ducks! Gargano locks in the Gargano Escape and wrenches it with all his energy and drive. Adam Cole refuses to quit which Gargano won’t accept, pulls as hard as he can like he’ll snap off his neck. Cole gets out, LAST SHOT!!! Adam Cole locks in a Crippler’s Crossface! Gargano taps!!!Adam Cole retains his title and walks to the back with a massive smile on his face. Gargano however is crushed and can barely get to his feet. He stumbles to the back as he looks on at the Toronto Crowd.
Road To TakeOver: WarGames 3
NXT Championship - Adam Cole vs. Velveteen Dream
Velveteen Dream announces on NXT that WarGames is home to The Dream. First year of WarGames, The Dream made his TakeOver Debut and made one of the best debuts in NXT History making everyone believe in The Dream and getting Aleister Black to finally say his name. Then last year, The Dream had the chance to become NXT Champion but unfortunately he wasn’t able to. Now that this is the third year of WarGames, The Dream will come true and Velveteen Dream will finally win the NXT Championship! ”What do you say Adam Cole?” Adam Cole comes out with the title over his shoulder. He tells Velveteen Dream that if he wants the title he’ll have to earn it case this is a prestigious title - thanks to Adam Cole - so however William Regal decides how you’ll get your opportunity, take it.
William Regal makes a blockbuster Fatal 4-Way Main Event for next weeks NXT featuring Velveteen Dream, Roderick Strong, Kushida and Pete Dunne! It’s a high intensity match to hopefully get some people attracted to NXT weekly shows. It goes for about 30 minutes with everyone in the perfect role. Roderick Strong is the cocky heel fighting to get a match against the man who brought him success. Pete Dunne is the aggressive brawler who is simply there cause he’s a fucking badass. Kushida is the big Cruiserweight of the bunch pulling off his awesome flying and technical maneuvers. Velveteen Dream is the gimmick guy who also can work a hell of a match in the ring with the ultimate drive to win the NXT Championship. It’s a great match which ends in Velveteen Dream hitting a Dream Valley Driver to Roderick Strong ( Cole’s teammates ) to win the match. He celebrates as the crowd go wild.
Roderick Strong himself is pissed as this and complains to Cole saying “Why didn’t you help me?!” Cole says Strong should be able to win on his own and he doesn’t need Cole’s help. Or at least, he shouldn’t. Strong gets mad at this as the two argue back and forth. Eventually Strong has had enough, AND ATTACKS HIM IN THE RING! Roddy sends Adam Cole flying into the ring post and hits an END OF HEARTACHE THROUGH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE! Roderick Strong leaves the arena being booed to Hell. William Regal announces that Roderick Strong is banned from NXT for the time being for his actions. Velveteen Dream says that Roderick Strong will not ruin The Dream and if he gets involved, he’ll be sure to sort him out. Cole and Dream find an unlikely middle ground as they side on their hatred for Roddy. However they still are competition for the biggest prize in NXT. Velveteen Dream promises to put in his best effort to finally Make The Dream Come True.
WarGames Match
Tommaso Ciampa makes his return to television but not as an active competitor, for now at least. I don’t want him to compete in WARGAMES of all matches at a return, that is not safe. So he’s been given the role of assembling one of the teams for WarGames. Obviously his first pick is Johnny Gargano for being in his opinion the best wrestler in the world. He then creates a Tag team tournament where two men are paired together at random and have to work as a team to the finals. Once you win the finals you are put into the team. Isaiah Scott and Keith Lee def. Kushida and Tyler Breeze in the finals on an episode of NXT. It’s an great and exciting match with the highly charismatic team of Breeze and Kushida being popular amongst the fans. While Swerve and Lee having to work together even though they are rivals and feuding. Both men manage to make the team and Ciampa promises something big for the fourth man. He says one of the most vicious and dangerous men in NXT, Pete Dunne! Pete Dunne is announced for the team 3 weeks before the show takes place. So Ciampa has the team fully prepared for WarGames!
On the other side of things a 17-Man NXT Mini Rumble takes place to decide the Team Captain for the other team ( team selection stuff would happen at the same time as each other ). Every 90 seconds 3 men enter the ring, last one standing wins. Except for the start when only 2 people are in the ring. #1 and #2 are Jaxson Ryker and Jonah Rock! Both the big men go at it together as more and more people start to stack up. Raúl Mendoza puts on some high flying stuff working well with Gran Metalik. #3 is Raúl Mendoza, #4 is Bobby Fish and #5 is Gran Metalik. Fish puts on some good stuff carrying the torch for UE. Bobby Fish works Mendoza in the corner. #6 is Your Favorite Wrestler, Kona Reeves, #7 is Oney Lorcan and #8 is Mansoor. Reeves fights with Jonah Rock. Jonah Rock eliminates Kona Reeves then Jonah and Oney start to work with each other. Lorcan manages to hit a German Suplex to Jonah Rock! Mansoor who does some work with Gran Metalik. #9 is Kyle O’Reilly, #10 is Wesley Blake and #11 is ACH. O’Reilly and Fish team up to eliminate Raúl Mendoza and Blake and Ryker team up to fight off UE. ACH who comes in hot and eliminates Mansoor. #12 is Garza Jr, #13 is Punishment Martinez and #14 is Matt Riddle. Garza does some good lucha things while Matt Riddle and Martinez fight amongst themselves. UE manage to eliminate Forgotten Sons. #15 is Shane Throne, #16 is Ilja Dragunov ad #17 is Candice LeRae. ACH and Garza Jr. eliminate each other meaning it’s down to 8 remaining people. Punishment Martínez eliminates Ilja Dragunov but then Martínez is eliminated by Matt Riddle. After some more work the final four are Jonah Rock, Bobby Fish, Kyle O’Reilly and Matt Riddle. Bobby Fish tiredness kicks in and he falls short to Jonah Rock leaving 3 remaining men. Kyle O’Reilly and Riddle team up to eliminate Jonah Rock which leaves 2 men left. They have a good contest but Matt Riddle fosses KOR Out to win the match. Matt Riddle is the team captain!
Over the next weeks Matt Riddle starts to confirm members for the team. One big announcement he makes his the first person he is confirming is......Dominick Dijakovic! He will be making his PPV debut right in WarGames! He then a week or two later announces that SmackDown’s, The Club are coming to NXT to represent the team! The Club make their debut on NXT TV against Danny Burch and Oney Lorcan where they defeat them after about 9 minutes. The teams are fully ready by November, Matt Riddle, Dominick Dijakovic and The Club ( “Machine Gun” Karl Anderson and Luke Gallows ) vs. Johnny Gargano, Pete Dunne, Keith Lee and Isaiah “Swerve” Scott!
North American Championship - KUSHIDA vs. Jordan Devlin
Kushida has been running rampant as North American Champion recently taking on all comers. We start seeing video packages on NXT for a new arrival. Eventually the teasers reveal to be, Jordan Devlin! Devlin makes the jump from NXT UK and will be taking time away from NXT UK until December where he has his match against WALTER for the United Kingdom Championship at TakeOver: Manchester. He arrives in NXT with one goal, to win the North American Championship.
Jordan Devlin could cut some sick heel promos as he just excels in that role. He can call KUSHIDA a New Japan Has-been who’s destroying the title for what it’s really worth, Jordan Devlin. Jordan Devlin gets some dominant wins in the weeks of October as does KUSHIDA. KUSHIDA calls himself the Undisputed Ace Of The North American Championship Scene and that Devlin can stand no chance.
Devlin is here to prove his doubters wrong who says he’s just Mini-Finn or a Bálor-Knockoff and that he is Ireland’s Greatest Wrestler Ever. No. Not Ireland’s Greatest, North America’s Greatest Wrestler Ever. Drew Gulak warns Jordan Devlin of the dangers that KUSHIDA holds after Gulak came up short to him at NXT’s 9th Anniversary Show which took place August 31, exactly 9 years after NXT Season 1 ended at Full Sail. ( The Show featured three matches, Kushida vs. Drew Gulak for the NA Title, Johnny Gargano vs. Pete Dunne in an Exhibition Match and a Six-Man Tag Main Event Of Adam Cole, Kyle O’Reilly and Bobby Fish vs. WALTER, Fabian Aichner and Marcel Barthel ). Jordan Devlin says he is ready to take the title from KUSHIDA, he knows he can take title from KUSHIDA and he will take the title from Kushida. Whatever It Takes.
NXT Women’s Championship - Dakota Kai vs. Io Shirai
This is an easy story. Dakota Kai already declared her interest in the NXT Women’s Championship after coming out at TakeOver: Toronto to challenge Io Shirai. Shirai accepted the challenge confirming the match. Dakota Kai says 8n the build that she has been out for so long, all she can ever think about now is winning the NXT Women’s Championship. So now that she is back all her passion and drive has been but into this match, so Io Shirai better watch out, cause it’s all coming out at TakeOver: WarGames 3.
Dakota Kai gets her own video package on NXT talking about her life. How she grew up as a Kiwi in New Zealand and what it was like getting into the wrestling business. She talks about coming from a Samoan Mother, her sister being a MMA Specialist, her brother as a DJ and even going into her roots as a Sportswomen as her father played for the Worlds Best Rugby Team, the All Blacks. Then she talks about how she got into the Pro Wrestling Industry, now she spent 9 years around the Australian and New Zealand Indy Scene but in 2016 finally coming to the US. That choice, brought her right here. To NXT. Challenging for the NXT Women’s Championship. Her whole life as lead up to this moment. At WarGames 3, November 23rd, Dakota Kai will make history, becoming the NXT Women’s Champion!
NXT Tag Team Championships - Street Profits vs. Mustache Mountain
Mustache Mountain recently made the full time jump to NXT and have been doing pretty good. The duo of Tyler Bate and Trent Seven welcome Aussie Open to NXT with that being Aussie Open’s first NXT Match ( although they’d mainly compete on NXT UK ). Mustache Mountain win the match although Aussie Open put in a great effort. Tyler Bate and Trent Sevens hake the hands of the men after the match congratulating them on their performance. Aussie Open then cut a promo saying they’re challenging Gallus for the NXT UK Tag Team Championships!
Street Profits cut a promo giving their two cents on Mustache Mountain wanting the NXT Tag Team Championships. Street Profits say they’re open to all challengers to if Mustache Mountain want some, They can get some. The two polar opposites of fun urban dance guys vs. pure English gentlemen.
Mustache Mountain tell Street Profits they’re won’t win without one of us injured so this will be easy so Street Profits do exactly that. Mustache Mountain are having a Match against Jeet Rama and Rinku Singh when Street Profits Run to the ring with chairs. They each swing their respective chairs at each individual of Mustache Mountain but both Bate and Seven Duck. Seven hits a German Suplex to Angelo while Bate hits a German Suplex to Montez. The match ends in DQ as they all get into a big brawl.
Mustache Mountain cut a furious promo the next week calling Street Profits utter cowards who don’t deserve the titles. Street Profits then say they’re only trying to keep their titles and Mustache Mountain are being whiny brats. The fire is fumed for this match as both teams go in with the passion of the world behind them.
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2019.06.22 15:40 ConorCulture Firestorm: Booking NXT TakeOver: WarGames 3 - Part 1: The Build

NXT TakeOver: Toronto:
North American Championship Match - KUSHIDA vs. Matt Riddle
This match would mainly be built upon the hype for the TakeOver debut of KUSHIDA. KUSHIDA gets dominant wins throughout the summer and announces that he wants a match for the North American Championship at TakeOver Toronto. Matt Riddle - Who recently best Velveteen Dream for the title on an episode of NXT - comes out and tells KUSHIDA that he’s ”totally down for the match bro” and then it’s made confirmed. Matt Riddle acts all chill in the build although he is a bit scared of what KUSHIDA can do.
KUSHIDA and Matt Riddle have a fun and hot opener. KUSHIDA gets an awesome debut entrance coming out as Marty McFly as the crowd chant his name in unity. KUSHIDA starts the match fast to try and through Riddle off guard but Riddle is one step ahead and uses his MMA abilities to grapple down with KUSHIDA. They do a lot of back and forth action until KUSHIDA slides out of a Rear Naked Choke and locks in his Hoverboard Lock. Matt Riddle looks like he’s out but manages to get out of it. Only to be hit by a Superkick from the corner by KUSHIDA followed by the Midnight Express, roll up pin! 1...2..3! KUSHIDA wins the North American Championship in his first main match as he runs through the crowd, celebrating with his title.
Kushida wins the match and becomes your new North American Champion! ( 13 Minutes )
NXT Tag Team Championships - Street Profits vs. Undisputed Era
Kyle O’Reilly and Bobby Fish demand a rematch for the NXT Tag Team Championships against what they calls ”dumbass dancers” for taking UE’s Tag Titles. Seeing as rematch clauses exist ( which the Main Roster forgets a lot ) Undisputed Era are able to get there rematch. Kyle O’Reilly and Bobby Fish work a match on NXT TV against Forgotten Sons in an entertaining match but a bump on the apron tweaks O’Reilly’s Knee. Seeing as O’Reilly took some hard bumps in the ladder match - especially Kyle - this bump causes more damage than it would Normally cause. Bobby Fish picks up the win for the team but O’Reilly is hurt but is in good enough condition to work the match.
Montez Ford and Angelo Dawkins get a video package before the match showing off they’re lives as kids growing up and finally being able to reach this stage. They may not be the most technical or flying teams out there but where they are know has made each man more happy than they have ever been. Undisputed Era are good, very good, but there’s no way they’re taking these titles. It’s a fun and exciting classic NXT Tag Team Match with fast Chains and high spots. Bobby Fish starts to match so O’Reilly doesn’t have to work due to his injury and after some good work with Montez Ford, Fish Tags In O’Reilly. O’Reilly works well and his able to hold his own with Ford. Ford Tag in Angelo Dawkins and O’Reilly goes for a cheap shot Knee Strike as Dawkins is walking through the ropes but that calls back the hurt knee and Dawkins takes advantage. Undisputed Era carry on in the match but at the climax of the match, Street Profits win after they’re using an epic double team move. Undisputed Era are visibly pissed as they walk to the back.
Street Profits retain their NXT Tag Team Championships! ( 15 Minutes )
Singles Match - Keith Lee vs. Isaiah ”Swerve” Scott
Isaiah Scott as many of you know is the WWE name of Indy Star, Shane Strickland. I’d have him start making televised appearances just after TakeOver 25 and quickly get into feud with Keith Lee. It’d be a simple feud of who is the better man with Keith Lee trying to prove he is a top star and not some boring Midcarder. Keith Lee works some good matches in the build also to hype up this match. Swerve goes into the match cocky and undefeated playing a bit of a tweener as he’s cocky yet the fans love him and Keith Lee being the freakish monster.
It’s a David vs. Goliath match as you’d expect. Scott attempts to use his flying abilities to outdo Keith Lee but Keith Lee himself is a flyer and uses that to take advantage. Scott is shocked at his ability and plays underdog the math trying to beat the freakish monster of Keith Lee. He uses some cool techniques like countering a Hurricanerana by Landing on his feet and hitting a Pele Kick to get himself an edge. They go back and forth some more with more cool action. Swerve is on the top rope looking to go for a Moonsault but Keith Lee gets to the top and hits an amazing Green Bay Plunge from the top ropes, 1...2..3! Keith Lee wins the match defeating Isaiah Scott after a good match.
Keith Lee picks up the win! ( 17 Minutes )
Street Fight for the NXT Women’s Championship - Io Shirai vs. Shayna Baszler
I’d keep the thing of Shirai attacking Shayna after the match at TaekOver 25 out of frustration of not being able to win the NXT Women’s Championship. Regal gets annoyed at Shirai for doing this. Shirai asks for a rematch against Shayna Baszler which Regal accepts but says to make sure that this doesn’t end in a flook, it’s a Street Fight. Shirai says that she will end Shayna once and for all and end her reign of terror as NXT Women’s Championship. Shirai really means “end” as she promises to send Baszler out of NXT and kill this blight on Women’s Wrestling.
It’s a violent and chaotic match as you’d expect from a Street Fight. At a few points in the match Shirai looks like she’s in genuine danger because of the violence of Baszler. Weapons are used with Shirai at one point going insane with a chair on all 3 of the MMA Horsewomen and even hitting a Spear off the apron, through a table. Shayna herself at times looks like she’s the match won, but Shirai gets out of it. Shirai also at times looks like she’s the match won but Baszler avoids it to make it even more unpredictable. In the end after the long match, a huge spot where Shirai sends Shayna through a stack of tables, turn is just able to roll her in the ring and get the cover makes Io Shirai your new NXT Women’s Champion! After the match Shirai cuts a quick promo saying she will be a fighting champion, then we hear familiar music....It’s Dakota Kai! Dakota Kai makes her NXT return and challenges Io Shirai for the NXT Women’s Championship at TakeOver: WarGames 3. Shirai accepts and they shake hands afterwards.
After the chaotic and unpredictable war, Io Shirai wins the match and becomes your new NXT Women’s Champion! ( 20 Minutes )
Submission Match for the NXT Championship - Adam Cole vs. Johnny Gargano
The final match in this trilogy will take place in the main event of NXT TakeOver: Toronto! The match having now stipulation at TakeOver: XXV was a bit eh to me to for the final match I’d add a special stipulation. The ultimate match-type, You’ll need wits, intensity and endurance for, a Submission Match! The match is made a Submission Match to rightfully prove who is the best wrestler when one man must voluntarily give up for the match to end. Gargano says in the build he needs this win. For his family, for his brother Ciampa, for his legacy in NXT, he needs this win. Adam Cole is the cocky heel but because O’Reilly and Fish are busy with the Tag Titles and Roddy and Cole have been a little shaky recently, so he goes into this match alone. The two have a stare down the go home week before the show. In the build we see video packages of Gargano training as hard as he can at the gym and stuff. He has his Won trainer who we get some words from then Gargano talks about how much he needs this win. The match is fully hyped by the go home week and everyone is set for this blockbuster of a showdown!
Adam Cole comes out to his Singles theme https://youtu.be/xG-rly6ieUE fully ready for the match. It’s the ultimate match, both men pull out all the big moves, all the big spots, each man trying to take each other down. It’s Strong Style, It’s High Flying, It’s Technical, It’s Story, It’s Passion, It’s NXT. Falls Finishes, Constant Reversals are also a trademark of this clash as both men go to war. Adam Cole lines up his final Last Shot, but Gargano ducks! Gargano locks in the Gargano Escape and wrenches it with all his energy and drive. Adam Cole refuses to quit which Gargano won’t accept, pulls as hard as he can like he’ll snap off his neck. Cole gets out, LAST SHOT!!! Adam Cole locks in a Kimaru Lock! Johnny Gargano can’t stay in it and taps out! Adam Cole retains his title and walks to the back with a massive smile on his face. Gargano however is crushed and can barely get to his feet. He stumbles to the back as he looks on at the Toronto Crowd.
Road To TakeOver: WarGames 3
NXT Championship - Adam Cole vs. Velveteen Dream
Velveteen Dream announces on NXT that WarGames is home to The Dream. First year of WarGames, The Dream made his TakeOver Debut and made one of the best debuts in NXT History making everyone believe in The Dream and getting Aleister Black to finally say his name. Then last year, The Dream had the chance to become NXT Champion but unfortunately he wasn’t able to. Now that this is the third year of WarGames, The Dream will come true and Velveteen Dream will finally win the NXT Championship! ”What do you say Adam Cole?” Adam Cole comes out with the title over his shoulder. He tells Velveteen Dream that if he wants the title he’ll have to earn it case this is a prestigious title - thanks to Adam Cole - so however William Regal decides how you’ll get your opportunity, take it.
William Regal makes a blockbuster Fatal 4-Way Main Event for next weeks NXT featuring Velveteen Dream, Roderick Strong, Kushida and Pete Dunne! It’s a high intensity match to hopefully get some people attracted to NXT weekly shows. It goes for about 30 minutes with everyone in the perfect role. Roderick Strong is the cocky heel fighting to get a match against the man who brought him success. Pete Dunne is the aggressive brawler who is simply there cause he’s a fucking badass. Kushida is the big Cruiserweight of the bunch pulling off his awesome flying and technical maneuvers. Velveteen Dream is the gimmick guy who also can work a hell of a match in the ring with the ultimate drive to win the NXT Championship. It’s a great match which ends in Velveteen Dream hitting a Dream Valley Driver to Roderick Strong ( Cole’s teammates ) to win the match. He celebrates as the crowd go wild.
Roderick Strong himself is pissed as this and complains to Cole saying “Why didn’t you help me?!” Cole says Strong should be able to win on his own and he doesn’t need Cole’s help. Or at least, he shouldn’t. Strong gets mad at this as the two argue back and forth. Eventually Strong has had enough, AND ATTACKS HIM IN THE RING! Roddy sends Adam Cole flying into the ring post and hits an END OF HEARTACHE THROUGH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE! Roderick Strong leaves the arena being booed to Hell. William Regal announces that Roderick Strong is banned from NXT for the time being for his actions. Velveteen Dream says that Roderick Strong will not ruin The Dream and if he gets involved, he’ll be sure to sort him out. Cole and Dream find an unlikely middle ground as they side on their hatred for Roddy. However they still are competition for the biggest prize in NXT. Velveteen Dream promises to put in his best effort to finally Make The Dream Come True.
WarGames Match
Tommaso Ciampa makes his return to television but not as an active competitor, for now at least. I don’t want him to compete in WARGAMES of all matches at a return, that is not safe. So he’s been given the role of assembling one of the teams for WarGames. Obviously his first pick is Johnny Gargano for being in his opinion the best wrestler in the world. He then creates a Tag team tournament where two men are paired together at random and have to work as a team to the finals. Once you win the finals you are put into the team. Isaiah Scott and Keith Lee def. Kushida and Tyler Breeze in the finals on an episode of NXT. It’s an great and exciting match with the highly charismatic team of Breeze and Kushida being popular amongst the fans. While Swerve and Lee having to work together even though they are rivals and feuding. Both men manage to make the team and Ciampa promises something big for the fourth man. He says one of the most vicious and dangerous men in NXT, Pete Dunne! Pete Dunne is announced for the team 3 weeks before the show takes place. So Ciampa has the team fully prepared for WarGames!
On the other side of things a 17-Man NXT Mini Rumble takes place to decide the Team Captain for the other team ( team selection stuff would happen at the same time as each other ). Every 90 seconds 3 men enter the ring, last one standing wins. Except for the start when only 2 people are in the ring. #1 and #2 are Jaxson Ryker and Jonah Rock! Both the big men go at it together as more and more people start to stack up. Raúl Mendoza puts on some high flying stuff working well with Gran Metalik. #3 is Raúl Mendoza, #4 is Bobby Fish and #5 is Gran Metalik. Fish puts on some good stuff carrying the torch for UE. Bobby Fish works Mendoza in the corner. #6 is Your Favorite Wrestler, Kona Reeves, #7 is Oney Lorcan and #8 is Mansoor. Reeves fights with Jonah Rock. Jonah Rock eliminates Kona Reeves then Jonah and Oney start to work with each other. Lorcan manages to hit a German Suplex to Jonah Rock! Mansoor who does some work with Gran Metalik. #9 is Kyle O’Reilly, #10 is Wesley Blake and #11 is ACH. O’Reilly and Fish team up to eliminate Raúl Mendoza and Blake and Ryker team up to fight off UE. ACH who comes in hot and eliminates Mansoor. #12 is Garza Jr, #13 is Punishment Martinez and #14 is Matt Riddle. Garza does some good lucha things while Matt Riddle and Martinez fight amongst themselves. UE manage to eliminate Forgotten Sons. #15 is Shane Throne, #16 is Ilja Dragunov ad #17 is Candice LeRae. ACH and Garza Jr. eliminate each other meaning it’s down to 8 remaining people. Punishment Martínez eliminates Ilja Dragunov but then Martínez is eliminated by Matt Riddle. After some more work the final four are Jonah Rock, Bobby Fish, Kyle O’Reilly and Matt Riddle. Bobby Fish tiredness kicks in and he falls short to Jonah Rock leaving 3 remaining men. Kyle O’Reilly and Riddle team up to eliminate Jonah Rock which leaves 2 men left. They have a good contest but Matt Riddle fosses KOR Out to win the match. Matt Riddle is the team captain!
Over the next weeks Matt Riddle starts to confirm members for the team. One big announcement he makes his the first person he is confirming is......Dominick Dijakovic! He will be making his PPV debut right in WarGames! He then a week or two later announces that SmackDown’s, The Club are coming to NXT to represent the team! The Club make their debut on NXT TV against Danny Burch and Oney Lorcan where they defeat them after about 9 minutes. The teams are fully ready by November, Matt Riddle, Dominick Dijakovic and The Club ( “Machine Gun” Karl Anderson and Luke Gallows ) vs. Johnny Gargano, Pete Dunne, Keith Lee and Isaiah “Swerve” Scott!
North American Championship - KUSHIDA vs. Jordan Devlin
Kushida has been running rampant as North American Champion recently taking on all comers. We start seeing video packages on NXT for a new arrival. Eventually the teasers reveal to be, Jordan Devlin! Devlin makes the jump from NXT UK and will be taking time away from NXT UK until December where he has his match against WALTER for the United Kingdom Championship at TakeOver: Manchester. He arrives in NXT with one goal, to win the North American Championship.
Jordan Devlin could cut some sick heel promos as he just excels in that role. He can call KUSHIDA a New Japan Has-been who’s destroying the title for what it’s really worth, Jordan Devlin. Jordan Devlin gets some dominant wins in the weeks of October as does KUSHIDA. KUSHIDA calls himself the Undisputed Ace Of The North American Championship Scene and that Devlin can stand no chance.
Devlin is here to prove his doubters wrong who says he’s just Mini-Finn or a Bálor-Knockoff and that he is Ireland’s Greatest Wrestler Ever. No. Not Ireland’s Greatest, North America’s Greatest Wrestler Ever. Drew Gulak warns Jordan Devlin of the dangers that KUSHIDA holds after Gulak came up short to him at NXT’s 9th Anniversary Show which took place August 31, exactly 9 years after NXT Season 1 ended at Full Sail. ( The Show featured three matches, Kushida vs. Drew Gulak for the NA Title, Johnny Gargano vs. Pete Dunne in an Exhibition Match and a Six-Man Tag Main Event Of Adam Cole, Kyle O’Reilly and Bobby Fish vs. WALTER, Fabian Aichner and Marcel Barthel ). Jordan Devlin says he is ready to take the title from KUSHIDA, he knows he can take title from KUSHIDA and he will take the title from Kushida. Whatever It Takes.
NXT Women’s Championship - Dakota Kai vs. Io Shirai
This is an easy story. Dakota Kai already declared her interest in the NXT Women’s Championship after coming out at TakeOver: Toronto to challenge Io Shirai. Shirai accepted the challenge confirming the match. Dakota Kai says 8n the build that she has been out for so long, all she can ever think about now is winning the NXT Women’s Championship. So now that she is back all her passion and drive has been but into this match, so Io Shirai better watch out, cause it’s all coming out at TakeOver: WarGames 3.
Dakota Kai gets her own video package on NXT talking about her life. How she grew up as a Kiwi in New Zealand and what it was like getting into the wrestling business. She talks about coming from a Samoan Mother, her sister being a MMA Specialist, her brother as a DJ and even going into her roots as a Sportswomen as her father played for the Worlds Best Rugby Team, the All Blacks. Then she talks about how she got into the Pro Wrestling Industry, now she spent 9 years around the Australian and New Zealand Indy Scene but in 2016 finally coming to the US. That choice, brought her right here. To NXT. Challenging for the NXT Women’s Championship. Her whole life as lead up to this moment. At WarGames 3, November 23rd, Dakota Kai will make history, becoming the NXT Women’s Champion!
NXT Tag Team Championships - Street Profits vs. Mustache Mountain
Mustache Mountain recently made the full time jump to NXT and have been doing pretty good. The duo of Tyler Bate and Trent Seven welcome Aussie Open to NXT with that being Aussie Open’s first NXT Match ( although they’d mainly compete on NXT UK ). Mustache Mountain win the match although Aussie Open put in a great effort. Tyler Bate and Trent Sevens hake the hands of the men after the match congratulating them on their performance. Aussie Open then cut a promo saying they’re challenging Gallus for the NXT UK Tag Team Championships!
Street Profits cut a promo giving their two cents on Mustache Mountain wanting the NXT Tag Team Championships. Street Profits say they’re open to all challengers to if Mustache Mountain want some, They can get some. The two polar opposites of fun urban dance guys vs. pure English gentlemen.
Mustache Mountain tell Street Profits they’re won’t win without one of us injured so this will be easy so Street Profits do exactly that. Mustache Mountain are having a Match against Jeet Rama and Rinku Singh when Street Profits Run to the ring with chairs. They each swing their respective chairs at each individual of Mustache Mountain but both Bate and Seven Duck. Seven hits a German Suplex to Angelo while Bate hits a German Suplex to Montez. The match ends in DQ as they all get into a big brawl.
Mustache Mountain cut a furious promo the next week calling Street Profits utter cowards who don’t deserve the titles. Street Profits then say they’re only trying to keep their titles and Mustache Mountain are being whiny brats. The fire is fumed for this match as both teams go in with the passion of the world behind them.
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2019.06.07 04:48 TravTheScumbag Best Case Worst Case Podcast Episode 122 Delphi Murders - some interesting points.

Many of your may have already listened to his, but I thought I would do a quick transcribing of some of the main points of discussion. I will try to do episode 123, second part on the Delphi murders soon. For those of you who don't know, the Best Case Worst Case episode was released on April 26, 2019. The episode features these guests:

Jim Clemente - American author, former New York State prosecutor, former FBI profiler, podcast co-host and creator of the show Real Crime Profile, and writeproducer on CBS' Criminal Minds
Francey Hakes - Former state and federal prosecutor.
Bobby Chacon - retired FBI Special Agent
Maureen O'Connell - retired FBI Special Agent

Jim - When looking at the motivation for these the the vast majority of them are sexual in nature. And unfortunately that's the most likely. Other motivations: greed. Someone getting in the way of a relationship. And also some cases in which some people have a lust for murder and they want to try it.

Jim - BG probably had a weapon. I know people have analyzed photos of him and have made out shapes and forms that could be a gun or some kind of weapon, so it is is most likely that. Killers use the victims own politeness and social graces to get them into a position where they are more vulnerable.

Maureen - We saw in the original photograph they released that BG was a fairly heavy set person. The significance of the new video, his legs looks thin, but u can see a lot of stuff stuffed into his jacket, he has a fanny pack on, and you can see his gait is affected by this bulk. He could have had a kill kit in there.

Francey - we don’t know the cause of death. My guess, my speculation is there was a sexual element to this. And the children were left in such a state that there almost has to be DNA there.

Jim - Weather conditions, was there water involved...all of those things can impact the retrieval of DNA. When I said “sexual motives” im not necessarily talking about what people would consider traditional sexual assault. There could be a number of things that could be sexual for an offender. We might not have what you would expect in a rape case. Many different things people can get off on sexually, it doesn’t have to be traditional sex.

Jim - When a perp moves victims...he moves them to a place of greater privacy and control. So he may have had a particular lair set up there where he wanted to take them once he got there. Maybe he was waiting for a girl to walk by, and it just happened to be 2, so he took them both.

Jim - I don’t think he could have known, they couldn't have been targeted victims, I don’t think he could have known that they were going to be there. I think he setup his trap and they fell into it. But I think he had to get them to a particular place so he could have privacy to do what he wanted.

Jim - A number of these nuances shows me he is probably from there, spent a lot of time there. He knew this was a place where little girls who fit his fantasy could come by. I think he is the kind of guy who fantasized a great deal about doing this. This wasn't anything impulsive. This was something he planned for and played out in his mind over and over again. It didn't go exactly as he planned, but he played it out repeatedly and then took steps to carry it out...Whatever that was...him preparing a place...preparing a way to control his intended victim...preparing a place where he could be unseen until the victim came into view. He showed some level of criminal sophistication that would only come from having done prior crimes. He might have displayed peeper behavior, might have broken into residences to be there when someone wasn't home to go through underwear drawers. The excitement and thrill of being someplace he wasn't supposed to be, going through people’s intimate things. Might have been misdemeanors. He probably did these kinds of things. Almost certainly did it, but might not have gotten caught doing it. This guy has some level of forensic sophistication, because he didn’t apparently leave a lot of forensic evidence behind of himself, at least not that they have reported.

Jim - In this case, I think Abby and Libby just happened to walk by and fall into this guys trap. When people are victim hunting, they are looking for vulnerability, availability, and desirability. And at times the desirability factor is just anybody who is available and vulnerable.
Maureen - first thing we do it pay attention to the pathway he told them to go down to. Possible boot prints, and it was likely the same path he took out of the crime scene. I just have a feeling that the girls may have been posed or staged.
EDIT: I didnt include the part where Jim mentions a suspect who had been arrested and the cleared as BG because 1 - it was confusing 2 - it had already been discussed here.
EDIT 2: Here is a link to the podcast in case someone would like to listen! I wasnt sure if I could post it but was advised I could. It is very insightful! Highly recommend.
https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/wondery/best-case-worst-case/e/60288423
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2019.05.06 19:27 nihil_scio [Spoilers All] A curious role playing /headcannon idea

That all three of the protagonists share the same consciousness. They are one soul in three bodies, and the primary one is the inquisitor.
It suddenly occurs to me when I watching the cutscene after Hawke’s sacrifice in the fade with Varric. What if the inquisitor and Hawke are the same person with different bodies? And the same goes with the situation when Alistair talks about “he walks a dark path” with the inquisitor? Or with Cassandra and Varric’s fighting scene over Varric’s lie about Hake? (All three MC unromanced)
Imagine the following scene after Hawke’s sacrifice in the fade.
(In a private room in skyhold)
Varric: (recalling how Hawke talks down the merchant guild assassins/debtors over the tea)
Inquisitor: (Hugs Varric)
Varric: Hawke just.. had that effect on people. I should probably write a letter to Carver. Excuse me, Inquisitor.
Inquisitor: Actually... I will speak to Carver myself. Save your ink and paper, Varric.
Varric: (looking at inquisitor in shock, unable to comprehend the situation) Inquisitor? What?!
Inquisitor: Don’t grieve over my suicidal decision in the fade, Varric. I’m glad that I can save Alistair, and at least one of my body makes it.
Varric: (Drops his jaw) But...
Inquisitor: (Laugh) You should look at your own face, Varric! It’s golden! I do not need to go over how Fenris and Andres trash each other every time we went out, right? And how your book conveniently drops your bribery to the city guard for my apostate identity?
Varric: (Still in shock) Hawke? Andraste’s sacred knickers!
Inquisitor: (Shake his head, put his hand on Varric’s shoulder, in a softer tone) I really don’t have that effect on people, my friend. All I have done in Kirkwall is to keep my friends and family safe, and I failed. You have given me much more than I deserve, Varric. I’m grateful for your help and support.
Varric: (in tears) I know you bastard won’t die so easily, waffles!
I don’t know what a purple Hawke/Inquisitor would say, actually...
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2019.04.19 20:39 JPscrawlings The Wailing Of The Wind (Final)

Part One

‘I’m surprised Angus came down,’ Alison said. ‘He never did come into town very often.’
‘Where else is there to live around here?’
‘In the hills,’ Alison replied. ‘A few miles from here. It’s a nice walk if the sun shines.’
‘You’ve been there?’
‘Only to drop some things off for his mother. Well, Moira’s not his real mother, but she took him in when his parents died. It’s an old mansion, or what’s left of it. Her family used to be quite wealthy, but they lost their money over the years and the place fell apart. When I was a girl they lived in the one wing which still had a roof over it. Hake House, I think?’
‘I’m surprised anyone lives in the hills, what with the reputation they have around here.’
Alison let out a small laugh. ‘I think they’re part of the mystique of it.’ She entwined her arm around mine, the smile quickly fading from her lips. ‘Can we go home?’
I nodded. ‘Sure.’
The fog was now dispersing, revealing the bleak stone dwellings and their lichen-covered thatches. The few people we did see were still dressed in black, offering small nods of acknowledgement to Alison but no words. We meandered through the partially cobbled streets, eventually ending up back at Arthur’s house.
The house had a quiet aura of death about it. I crept through the entrance as if my footsteps would wake the dead, keeping my footsteps to a respectable volume. Alison looked around the room, taking in the grainy photos which adorned the damp walls and sighed. ‘Something wrong?’ I asked.
‘I don’t really know,’ Alison said. Her shoulders dropped and exhaustion took over her. ‘I feel like I should get to know him, you know? Even after everything he did. He’s still my father, after all.’
‘After everything he did,’ I repeated. ‘You still haven’t told me what happened?’
‘There’s not much to it,’ Alison replied. ‘He was a bully, verbally at first, then physically towards the end. He used to tell me I was worthless, that I should run away and never come back, that I was the reason my mother was dead.’ Her voice trailed into the air, her eyes gathering tears. ‘He hit me, just the once. That was the day I left and never came back.’
I knew her well enough to know when she wanted to be alone. ‘Is there anything I can do? I can give you some space, if you want?’
She pushed her rain-dampened hair from her eyes and smiled. ‘You know me too well.’ She nodded after a moment of thought. ‘Yes, I’d like that. If you don’t mind, of course.’
I could hardly disagree. There was little to Tralleth, but I was sure I could busy myself for a few hours. ‘Sure thing. I’ll be back in a few hours.’
She gave me a quick hug and a whispered thanks.
The fog had lifted now, although sunlight was yet to break through the bleak blanket of cloud above. How I was going to keep myself entertained, I did not know, but I was determined to give Alison the space she needed.
I let my feet guide the way, and I soon found myself at the quayside. The dock was even more dismal in the cold light of day. A couple of rusted boats were tied to the quay, their hulls waterlogged and half sunk. An old crane painfully arched itself over the water, the metal groaning as it struggled to take its own weight. The only pleasant thing I could find was the calm lapping of the sea against the stone walls of the harbour.
Footsteps quickly closed in on me. ‘Are you certain that he spoke to you?’
I recognised the voice, and turned to see Hilda, her face solemn. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m certain.’
Her face paled further. ‘He mentioned her, didn’t he?’
The encounter with Angus was odd enough that at the time I did not even question who he was talking about. ‘Who is she?’
She wetted her cracked lips. ‘Arthur said the same. He said Angus had spoken to him, just before his death, said he had heard her voice in the night too. No one has seen her for years, in fact, Arthur may have been the last to see her in person, but that was years ago now. She is Moira, Angus’ adopted mother.’
My blood ran cold through my veins. ‘Alison told me about her.’
Hilda lowered her voice as if telling a great secret. ‘Superstition has always surrounded that family. The hills hold power, and they chose to live among those dreaded peaks. Did he say much else?’
I recalled the conversation, but it came back as a blur. I battled against the memory of Angus’ furious eyes, dredging out some of the words he said. ‘He said I needed to pay my respects,’ I said after a moment. ‘He said that Arthur had failed to do the same.’
Hilda shot a hand out, grasping her bony fingers into my wrist. ‘My boy, if you wish to leave this place alive, you will go and pay your respects.’ Her eyes were wide as she spoke. ‘You must go see her, now. There is no time to waste.’
I tore my arm free. ‘Wait, what-’
She grabbed me again, stronger this time. ‘I said now! This is for your benefit, not mine.’ She turned and pointed towards one of the roads which led away from Tralleth. ‘Follow this road, it will lead you to the hills. Once the road ends, you must follow the dirt path which follows the stream, you can’t miss it. You’ll reach Hake House eventually.’
My dismissal of Hilda’s initial talk of the hills had already faded, replaced with a rapidly increasing heartbeat. ‘And what then?’ I asked. ‘What do I do?’
Hilda shook her head. ‘I’ve done all I can for you,’ she said, looking around nervously. ‘Go. Go now! You should make it back before it gets dark.’
‘What about Alison?’
‘I’ll check on her. You just concentrate on getting to that house.’
It was not long until I was leaving the edge of Tralleth. The cobbled street continued into the hills ahead, a collection of wind-blasted shrubbery and thorny bushes crowding the heath which surrounded the road. As I left the last few cottages behind, a harsh wind nipped at me, and I drew my coat in closer around me.
The trek was hard and lonely. Since leaving the small village I had not seen a single soul on the road which led towards the hills. The signs of a well-worn path were missing here; thorny vines encroached on the road, and moss crowned the stones in the track. The cobbles slowly disappeared, replaced by hardened earth.
By the looks of it, it was once well used, with the paths of wheels firmly gouged from the earth. Judging from the thick grass that grew from those scars, those days were long gone.
The sky had darkened by the time Hake House was in sight, making the building look more foreboding than it probably was. It was nestled in a dip between two hills, a long dirt path leading towards it.
As I gained ground, it was evident that the house had fallen into some state of disrepair. The house was grand, that much was certain, with two wings flanking the grand main entrance. Dilapidated stonework formed the majority of it, years of neglect allowing a thick growth of ivy and other climbing plants to form a stranglehold around the property.
I arrived at the door of the house. I rattled the rusted knocker against the imposing slab of heavy oak, the sound of rotted wood answering. There was little sign of stirring inside. I stepped back and glanced up. There was a pair of windows which still retained their glass, high on the second floor of the building. I took a deep breath and tried the knocker again.
The door was unlocked. On my second knock, the door swung uneasily on its hinges, revealing a skeleton of a once grand interior. The flagstones were encrusted with thick lichen, a result of the long collapsed roof allowing the elements to enter at their will. What used to be an ornate bannister was now eaten away by rot, parts of it crumbled to nothing.
A shiver ran up my spine as I surveyed the house. Surely no one could live in such a place.
‘Hello?’ I called out. I glanced at the old empty doorways, expecting Angus or Moira to reveal themselves, but instead there was only silence.
An unseen door creaked open. My eyes widened at the sound, my muscles tensing in fearful anticipation. I could not work out where the sound had come from, until I heard footsteps from the top of the curving staircase.
I glanced up the space in the middle, squinting against the greying sky. ‘Hello?’ I called again.
I saw it on the second floor. A large hand curled around the bannister, but nothing more. It was of a leathery condition, with gnarled fingernails protruding from the tips. As quick as it appeared it was gone again.
My mind raced, all sense wanting me to turn and flee. I did not care how many miles it was back to town, I knew my fear could carry me if it had to. My thoughts turned to Angus and Hilda, to the fear that ran through her aged eyes as I spoke of what Angus had said to me. The hills had power, and I could feel that now.
I took a second to steady myself, to slow my heart-rate and to return some calm to my mind. I had come this far, surely I could not turn back now?
I ascended the staircase, taking care with my footing so as not to breach the rotting steps beneath me. They moaned as they bore my weight, each board announcing my approach. I passed the first floor, with its missing doorways and cold empty rooms, and approached the landing of the second floor.
The door here was different. It was of solid oak, just like the front door, but the condition was impeccable. It was carved with much care and precision, strange and beautiful runic shapes adorning it, each held by a plethora of fantastical creatures.
I could not help but touch my hand to it, feeling the fine workmanship as it ran flawlessly beneath my fingers. There was a sound on the other side. It sounded like a whisper, but odd and inconsistent. It reminded me of the wind I had heard last night as I stood beside Arthur’s corpse.
I took a deep breath and knocked. In the brief pause afterwards, the whispering stopped. I stepped back as the door creaked ajar, not swinging fully wide, but releasing the deep smell of incense from within.
I sucked down a lungful of clean air and pushed the door open further. ‘Hello?’ The door creaked open, and my eyes adjusted to the low light of the room. A sparse amount of candles were spread around the room, providing insufficient light to clear all of the darkness.
A scurry of movement caught my eye. It was quick, but I knew I had seen something. It was impossible, but it was almost as if something was waiting beyond the curtained window and had quickly clambered out of it then up the external stonework. I watched the now open window for a moment, but only the wind provided any movement to the curtain. I put it down to a trick of the eye and stepped inside.
The thick incense filled my lungs with heat, my throat clamouring for the harsh outside air. In one corner of the room was an old desk, papers liberally spread all over it as if long abandoned. I stepped towards it and inspected what was there.
The papers were filled with illegible scrawls, or at least it was not a language that I recognised. It looked as if the lettering had been scratched on with ink, and a long-dried feather which had settled beneath a few of the pages confirmed my thoughts. As I squinted at the ink in an attempt to make any sense of it, the faint whispering returned.
I dropped the papers which I held, the sudden sense of presence shocking me. I turned around and looked for whoever lurked in that room. Against the dim light which seeped through the curtained window, I could make out a figure. They were sat upright on what looked to be a bed.
‘Hello?’ I said. ‘I’ve been told to come see you.’
The figure did not answer directly, but the faint whispering grew in volume slightly.
I grabbed the candle from the table and stepped towards the figure. They were unmoving, simply sat with their back straight and propped against the wall behind the bed. I crept closer, the whispering remaining present. The dim light of the candle eventually touched their features.
I recoiled in horror, and almost stumbled over a small bedside chest. I could only guess that the person on the bed was Moira, or at least used to be. The figure on the bed was long dead, their skin reduced to a paper-like appearance and eyes long hollowed. A net of flimsy hair still clung to her scalp, falling around her face in a dishevelled fashion.
In my horrified silence, I heard the whispering still. I braved another look, bringing the candle in closer this time. Moira’s, if it really was her, mouth hung wide open, a gaping maw in her face. In her hands she clutched two circular stones, both carved with runes similar to that of the door to the bedroom.
I was not imagining it, she really was whispering. It was incoherent, just a breath mangled to sound like syllables, but it still unnerved me. The light of the candle flickered, as if touched by the wind. I moved it closer, bringing it to Moira’s mouth. It was coming from her.
Behind her was a small crack in the wall, which I could only guess wormed its way to the outside world. A cold breeze flowed through it, entering the mummified corpse through a multitude of holes in her back where the frail skin had crumbled away to dust. The air drifted through that hollow chest, rising up through where lungs used to be, and worked its way past a blackened and shrivelled tongue.
I stood back and listened to her whispers. Could it really have been the voice I had heard the other night? It seemed impossible, with Hake House being so far from Tralleth, but I knew those quiet tones.
Even though the curtained window was open, the room was fast becoming unbearable stuffy. I braved a few steps towards the window, then opened to curtains to gulp down the cool, outside breeze. Even with the curtains open, a shadow fell over Moira’s form, however, it did reveal something else.
At the end of the bed was a child’s crib. In the darkness I had not noticed it, and I was surprised that I had not stumbled over it earlier. My curiosity got the better of me, and I could not help but peer in.
Bones. They were not those of a baby who would have led within, but they were still bones of a child. They were neatly piled, with the skull nestled within a triangle of thigh and arm bones. The small bones of the hands and feet were surrounding all of this, arranged in a circle on a bed of red cloth.
An ear-splitting shriek startled me. I stumbled back, knocking the cot and sending the child’s bones clattering across the floor. The shriek was coming from Moira’s rotten mouth, a blast of icy air accompanying it. In my blind terror I panicked. All I wanted was for that wretched screech to be quiet, it sent tremors through my body and mind alike.
I grasped at the door to the room, but it did not budge. I looked around, heart and head throbbing, desperate to make the ungodly sound stop.
I grabbed the nearest thing I could get my hands on, a heavy tome from the cluttered writing desk. I dashed towards Moira, her voice twisting and unnatural, and staved her head in with the book. Her frail body gave way. Her head collapsed, skin splitting and cracking, the bones underneath following suit. The room filled with a thick haze of dry and dusty skin.
In the following silence, I stumbled blindly towards the door, my lungs and throat becoming clotted with the deathly sediment which thickened the air. My hands ran over what felt like endless stone walls until I eventually clasped my scrabbling hands around the door handle. I wrenched it firmly, and this time it opened, sending me stumbling out into the remnants of the derelict house.
It was fully dark. I did not know how long I had been within Moira’s room, but somehow night had already fallen. My lungs clamoured for the night air, coughing and spluttering in an attempt to rid my throat of the dead tissue. Rainwater streamed into the main staircase from a broken gutter, and although the water was no doubt vile, I rinsed my mouth with it.
I descended the two flights of stairs and stared out into the night. The moon was out and bright, painting the surrounding hills a dark silver. The trek back to Tralleth was going to be a long one, and there was no way I could stay here for the night, so I set to walking back. My immediate thoughts were about Alison, and what she would think after I had been missing for so long; all fear for my self falling by the wayside. I hoped she was alright. I picked up my pace at those thoughts.
As I strode down the dirt path, I could not help but look back at the sad wreck I had left behind. To see such grandness reduced to a ruin saddened me. I studied it in the cold light of the moon, and at that moment I almost forgot about what I had experienced in the upstairs bedroom.
With that thought my eyes drifted towards the curtains, still billowing in the breeze. Even from this distance, I could still smell the strong incense and taste of rot. Something moved. It was not from the window itself, but from the rooftop above it.
I thought it was a trick of the eye at first, but then its continual creeping presence soon proved me wrong. It was a strange shape, a large and dark shadow. It clambered over the edge of the roof and clambered down the stonework until it reached the curtained window. It paused for a moment, and I held my breath. It slunk inside and disappeared out of the moonlight.
I turned and quickened my pace. Whatever it was that I had just seen, I had no desire to meet with it alone in the hills, especially at night. A guttural and unnatural bellow stopped my heart.
It was unlike anything I had ever heard, even worse than the strange screech Moira had emitted. Pure, black terror shot through me, turning my limbs to jelly. I glanced back at the house and saw something leaving the doorway and coming down the road. The figure was tall and wide, cutting an oppressive shape in the dark. I recognised the shape as it thundered down the dirt track. Angus.
Without a second thought, I fled as fast as my feet would carry me. I dashed down that dirt track and only slowed for breath as the dim lights of Tralleth came into view. My chest heaved painfully, my lungs pressing against my ribs. I looked back. Somehow, I had managed to outpace him, with only a clear road behind me. I did not let that trick me into complacency.
I forced myself onward, finally leaving the hills and charging across the flat open ground which led to Tralleth. The cloudless night caused my ragged breaths to pain my throat as I sucked down icy night air, my sweat chilling my face and neck.
I let out a brief laugh of desperation and relief as my feet beat against the cobbled streets. I could only assume that it was now the early hours of the morning as there was not a soul in sight. I thundered past the old dock and up the street towards Arthur’s house.
I quickly found myself at the front door and hammered at it. ‘Alison!’ I shouted. ‘Alison! I’m back!’ There was no answer, but as I peered through the window to the side of the door, I could see there was a light on inside. I knocked at the window and yelled again, but there was still no answer.
I tried the handle, and to my surprise, the door was unlocked. I entered swiftly, closing the door behind me. ‘Alison?’ I called out. There was a sound coming from the living room, the dull light spilling into the hallway. I crept towards the door and peered in.
Alison was sat facing the old television. On the screen was a display of static, the hiss of white noise filling the room. I approached Alison, her eyes not turning from the television. By the look of her reddened cheeks and damp eyes, her crying had only recently stopped.
‘Alison,’ I said, grabbing her hand. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long, but I had to-’
She turned her eyes to me, fresh tears brimming at the corners. ‘He did it for me, Matthew. He did it for me.’
I frowned at her words. ‘Did what, Alison? Who?’
She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘My father. He needed me to leave, that’s why he treated me so badly. So that I would go and never come back.’ She sobbed quietly to herself. ‘I never should have come back.’
I placed a gentle hand on her chin and turned her head to face me. ‘I get it, Alison, I really do, but we need to go. Now.’
Alison shook her head. ‘No. I can’t leave. I can’t.’
I tried my best to shake the thought of Angus bursting through the door from my mind. ‘You can, Alison. We’ll go get your stuff and we’ll call Isaac.’
‘You don’t get it,’ Alison sobbed. She held up a VHS cassette. ‘Just watch this, you’ll understand.’
‘Where did you get that?’
‘I found it,’ Alison said. ‘In my father’s belongings. There are loads of them, but this was his last.’
I took her hand in mine. ‘We’ll watch it when we get out of here.’
She snatched her hand away from me. ‘We’ll watch it now!’ She jumped from her seat and placed the VHS in the dust-covered video player. The tape whirred as it spun to life.
Arthur appeared on the screen. He looked awful, somehow worse than when I saw his lifeless body lying in wake in the dining room. His skin was creased with age, and his eyes held a baleful sadness which was hard to comprehend. He shook as he placed himself in a chair opposite the camera, his body seeming to rebel against his movements.
‘This will be my last tape,’ Arthur said, his voice as grainy as the image. ‘She’s finally broken me, that old witch. She told me that she would make me pay for sending Alison away, and my feeble bones now pay that price. I always knew it would come to this, but I knew I could never give my girl up when the time came. All I can hope is that I die quietly and quickly, and that Alison never cares enough to come back for me.’ Tears ran down the old man’s face. ‘If everything works as planned, she’ll never know that I loved her. I can only pray that I treated her bad enough to make her hate me for the rest of her life. God help that girl if she ever comes here again. I won’t let her end up like that poor lad, Angus.’ The picture fizzled out in a haze of static and the tape ejected.
I stood there in shocked silence. Alison watched me, awaiting my response. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ I said. ‘So he chased you away on purpose?’
‘I’ve watched the rest of the tapes,’ Alison said. ‘I know I can’t leave this place. What I am is...unnatural.’
I ignored her odd words. ‘We can still leave,’ I said. ‘There’s still time.’
‘Don’t you get it?’ Alison cried. ‘I was never meant to leave here! My father, he cut a deal with Moira. My father and mother were unable to conceive, so asked her to use her magic to give them a child. She agreed, on the condition that I would return to her on my eighteenth birthday. After my mother died in childbirth, my father vowed that he wouldn’t lose me either, so he forced me away.’
My mind returned to the huge form of Angus. ‘What happened to Angus? Did your father say anything else about him?’
‘I don’t know,’ Alison replied. ‘Moira took him in, after that I don’t know.’
‘Perhaps Angus isn’t the same boy any more,’ I said.
‘What makes you say that?’
‘There were bones in Hake House,’ I said. ‘A child, in their early teens I’d say.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You were at Hake House?’
‘Yes.’ I said. ‘Angus, or whoever that is now, asked me to. He told me that I needed to pay my respects, whatever that meant.’
‘So he did speak to you?’
I nodded. ‘He did.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He asked what I was going to do with regards to you.’
‘What? What did you say?’
‘I said that we’d go back to Oxford once things were settled here.’
Alison’s voice dropped to a whimper. ‘Oh no.’
Her tone sent a shiver of fear through me. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘They won’t let me leave. Angus and Moira, they won’t let me go, not again. And now that they know that I’m planning to leave...’ Her voice trailed off, leaving only despair hanging in the air.
‘I don’t think Moira will be a problem any more.’
Alison’s eyes snapped to meet mine. ‘Why do you say that?’
I didn’t have the guts to tell her the truth of what happened with Moira. I could still taste her in the back of my throat. I stifled a cough at that thought. ‘She’s dead, Alison. She’s been dead for years.’
Alison gave a hollow laugh. ‘After seeing my father’s videos, I don’t think death will stop her.’
Fear bubbled in the back of mind. I grabbed Alison and pulled her up from the sofa. ‘Come on, we still have time. We can leave if we go, but it has to be now.’
‘Isaac won’t be here for another day, and he won’t be here for hours if we use the emergency radio.’
‘There are other boats. We’ll steal one if we have to.’
A fire returned to Alison’s eyes, one I had not seen since the letter detailing her father’s demise had arrived. ‘You’re right, we should at least try.’
We dashed out of the room and up the stairs, floorboards groaning under the sudden strain. Alison grabbed what she could and piled it into her bag, and I followed suit. The wind outside was quickly turning into a gale, the air howling against the house as the nearby ancient oaks lashed at the windows. I tried to ignore it, but a voice was still there. Moira.
I grasped Alison and hauled her towards the bedroom door, only to be brought to a halt by a terrifying noise. It was a guttural bellow, one that cut through Moira’s voice, cut through the lashing of the trees, and shook the very foundations of Arthur’s house.
Alison clutched my arm, nails digging firmly into my flesh. ‘What was that?’
I knew who it was, or to be more accurate, what it was. Angus had finally trailed me down through the valley and into Tralleth. The wind came to a sudden halt, bright moonlight glinting off the window pane. I prised Alison’s fingers from my arm and crept across to the window.
It was then that I saw what Angus truly was. Creeping across the rooftops opposite, framed in the harsh glare of the moon, was a monstrous figure. As it clambered across the thatched roofs, I saw limbs unfold, extending unnaturally and allowing it an alarming reach. The bulky coat that had covered up the true nature of Angus suddenly made sense; no such sight was ever meant to be seen by human eyes.
He turned his hateful glare towards me. The top half of his head was human-like, but his jaw was an extended and distended mess of teeth and tongues. I recoiled in horror, stumbling back from the window.
‘What?’ Alison whispered. ‘What is it?’
I forced the words from my fear-clotted throat. ‘He’s here.’
Her face paled, eyes widening. ‘Now?’
I grasped Alison’s arm and tugged her towards the door. ‘Come on,’ I cried out. ‘There’s no more time.’
We dashed down the stairs and out of the front door, leaving it wide open as we tore a trail into the dark night. Alison still gripped hold of her case, although it was not long before she dropped the excess weight, sending it clattering across the old stone road.
‘Where are we going?’ she called breathlessly.
‘The docks,’ I replied. It was the only place I could still think of in my blind panic. I prayed to anyone or anything that was listening that at least one of the old wrecks in the harbour might be salvageable enough for our escape.
I did not dare glance back on our moonlit run. The trees which lined the road to the dock soon let their overbearing presence be known; their overgrown branches forming a formidable canopy above us, threatening to block out the only light we had. There were stumbles and falls from both of us, but adrenaline and terror drove us on.
We arrived at the docks both panting for breath. Alison’s face was freshly stained with fearful tears, which still ran down her cheeks.
‘A boat,’ I puffed. ‘Find a boat.’
The search was fruitless. All of the boats in the harbour were far beyond any useful state, a collection of sunken graves to the fishermen’s livelihoods. I stared down at the murky water in desperation. There was little doubt that any attempt to swim would kill us; icy cold water in the endless night of the sea spelt only our doom.
Alison’s shrieks pulled me from my macabre thoughts. ‘The church,’ she cried. ‘The church!’
Alison reached the church before I could, and pulled the door open. She turned and offered a desperate smile, as if this could be our way to escape the monstrosity which stalked us.
I hurried inside and we secured the heavy oak doors behind us. The church was silent, the firm stone walls keeping out much of the sound of the wind. Although dark, the stained-glass windows allowed some of the moonlight to seep through, giving a low and silver glow to the three rows of upturned pews and a vandalised altar.
‘What do we do now?’ Alison whispered. ‘Pray? Wait?’
I examined the graffiti which adorned the wooden altar. It was no normal vandalism. I recognised some of the scratched and painted markings; they were similar, if not the same, as the runic symbols I had seen in that fearful room of Hake House. I turned back to Alison. ‘If there ever was a God here to pray to, he left this place a long time ago.’
Even in the pale moonlight, it was easy to see the colour draining from Alison’s face. ‘What about the radio?’ she said.
It was a lightbulb moment, a single ray of hope in the otherwise oppressive cloud of terror that surrounded us. ‘Isaac said we could get him in an emergency, didn’t he?’ I said.
Alison managed an odd smile, one tinged with the mania of impending doom. ‘It’s in the building across from the church. The harbourmaster's building, if I remember correctly.’
It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was the only one we had right now. ‘If we’re going to do it, we need to go now.’
Alison nodded in agreement. We eased open the heavy door to the church and peered out into the night, the cold wind flowing through the gap. The flickering lights of the dock provided an intermittent view of the small building which sat opposite the church.
Alison gripped my arm. ‘We go on the count of three-’
Angus’ guttural bellow broke off her words. The wind picked up speed, the howling sound returning with it. Somewhere within that harsh sound was Moira’s rasping voice. As much as I tried, I could not ignore it.
At the entrance to the dock, a strange and large figure stalked out of the darkness. It moved as if pained by every step, yet driven by some unquenchable fury. The noise that erupted from its foul collection of mouths was enough to strip my soul from my body.
Alison stifled a horrified scream and slammed the door shut. ‘Is that...is that him?’
I could not keep my voice from cracking. ‘Yes,’ I whispered, my voice barely climbing from my throat.
The fear which emanated between us was palpable, a thick and sickly aura of despair engulfing us both. Tears ran freely down Alison’s face, and I found myself too numb to move.
Without a word, Alison marched through the church and grabbed one of the upturned pews. ‘Help me with this, will you?’
I rushed towards her and grasped the other side. Together we heaved the heavy pew in front of the church doorway, pushing it firmly to the large door. We retrieved another two and did the same, all while the wind was reaching a deafening volume. Moira’s voice had twisted from a quiet whisper to a venomous snarl, her words no doubt repeating whatever foul language was written upon the papers in her room.
Without any warning, the wind stopped. A faint scrabbling could be heard at the door, the sound of hands not quite human attempting to wrestle with the handle. Alison and I stared at each other in horrified silence as the scratching ceased, only to be replaced by the sound of the heavy front door being repeatedly hit with firm resolve.
My chest tightened, squeezing the breath from my lungs. I forced myself to slow my breathing in an attempt to stop myself passing out with fear. My vision became hazy, the room starting to spin.
Alison grasped at me, shaking me out of my stupor. ‘Come on,’ she begged. ‘Stay with me.’
The pews groaned under the weight of whatever Angus had become. He slowly but firmly hammered the door, his strange guttural voice becoming a cacophony of terror from his mess of teeth and tongues.
The door thumped again, harder this time. My heart leapt into my throat. Alison’s hands clawed at me for comfort, holding me close to her. It thumped again, harder still, the sound of splintering wood joining this time.
‘I’m sorry,’ Alison said.
The door thumped again. ‘Sorry for what?’ I asked.
‘I’m sorry for bringing you here,’ she said. ‘If I had known that my father had chased me away for a reason, I never would have come. I never would have dragged you here. This is all my fault.’
‘This is your father’s fault, not yours,’ I said. The door cracked, a shard of wood breaking away from it.
‘It’s all of us,’ Alison replied. ‘All of my family. I was born by unnatural means. I don’t even know what I am any more.’
A sickening roar sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a bone-crushing blow. The door splintered in two, a putrid smell breaking in with it. A large sinewy hand reached through the gap and pushed the pews aside.
A panicked nausea rose from my stomach. Whatever death was waiting for me at the hands of whatever was on the other side of that door, I did not imagine it to be quick or painless. I resisted the urge to yell out in terror.
Alison jumped to her feet. ‘It’s me you want!’ she yelled. ‘It’s me!’
The hand stopped for a moment, an odd silence falling over the scene. All that could be heard was the sound of the water lapping against the quayside, and the heavy, strained breathing of Angus.
‘Alison!’ I cried. ‘What are you doing?’
Alison did not respond to my outburst. She stepped towards the door. ‘All these years you’ve wanted me to come home, so you and Moira can claim what is owed to you. Well, I’m here now. I’m here!’
The hand effortlessly pushed the last pew to one side, another arm emerging to tear the rest of the door from its hinges. From where I was huddled I could not see out of the now open doorway, and I praised my luck that I could not see that grotesque creature in such detail. I opened my mouth to speak, but my words failed to form.
Alison stepped towards the darkness of the doorway, a monstrous hand stretching out to claim her. She looked back at me, tears running freely down her face. I’m sorry, she mouthed.
The hand grasped her and yanked her out into the darkness. I clutched my hands over my ears at the sudden ear-splitting shriek which rang out. Blinding flashes of light burst from the doorway, illuminating the horrific scene in nightmarish detail.
In those brief flashes of detail were scenes that I wished I could erase from my mind forever. Bestial and demonic flesh merged with Alison’s body, creating abnormal and impossible contortions and dimensions. That was the last thing I remembered.
I awoke drenched in sweat. My head and stomach rolled as I stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling, all rusted bolts and metal. The sound of an engine droned somewhere nearby, and birds called out somewhere above. I rose from the shabby little bunk I had been led on and pulled myself to my feet.
The rolling sensation did not stop. I stumbled towards the steep stairs which led towards daylight and climbed them. My head poked through the opening at the top of the stairs, taking in the small room I had entered. It was the wheelhouse of a small fishing vessel, and a familiar figure stood steadfastly at the helm.
‘Isaac?’ I groaned.
The old seaman turned in surprise. ‘You’re awake? Much sooner than I thought you’d be, boy.’
I clambered up the final steps and stood beside him. We were far from land now, with only the water surrounding us and grey skies above. Black figures of birds whirled and wheeled overhead. ‘What happened?’
Isaac eyed me for a moment. ‘I would ask you the same,’ he said. ‘But I’d rather not know what things happened over in Tralleth.’
Horrendous images came back to me. If it was not for the fact that Alison was not with me, I would have put it down to some night terror.
‘Judging by the shade of white your face just turned, I definitely don’t want to know.’
I ignored Isaac’s comment. ‘How am I here?’
‘Had a call on the radio,’ Isaac said, turning the wheel towards port. ‘Old Hilda. Told me that they had an emergency, needed to get you back to the mainland. Didn’t tell me much more than that.’
‘What about Alison?’ I asked.
Isaac shifted uncomfortably. ‘They told me she was staying with her family.’
I suppose Hilda was right when she said that. I nodded a silent response.
‘Hopefully the bridge will be up for your next visit. When you go to see her, I mean.’
‘No,’ I replied. ‘I won’t be coming back.’
Isaac kept his gaze on the open sea ahead. ‘Aye. You’re not the first to say that.’
It was not long before I was back to work in Oxford. Although my quietness was questioned at first, I explained it away as a bout of illness. My boss had asked me where Alison was, and all I could do was repeat Hilda’s semi-truth. I forged a resignation letter from her and handed it to my boss, after that she was never mentioned again.
Nightmares still plague me now, reaching me in the quiet moments of the evening. Sometimes I still think about Alison, about what would have happened had we not travelled to that godforsaken village. Late at night, when the sounds of the city have died away and the wind whistles through the trees, I can still hear a faint whisper on the wind. What disturbs me the most is that it is no longer Moira’s voice that calls my name, but Alison’s.
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2019.04.14 05:09 MarleyEngvall Gooseberry Island has been created

By Nathaniel Hawthorne THE VILLAGE UNCLE. AN IMAGINARY RETROSPECT. Come! another log upon the hearth. True, our little parlor is comfortable, especially here, where the old man sits in his old arm chair; but on Thanks- giving night, the blaze should dance higher up the chimney, and send a shower of sparks into the outer darkness. Toss an armful of those dry oak chips, the last relics of the Mermaid's knee timbers, the bones of your namesake, Susan. Higher yet, and clearer be the blaze, till our cottage windows glow the ruddiest in the village, and the light of our house- hold mirth flash far across the bay to Nahant. And now, come, Susan, come, my children, draw your chairs round me, all of you. There is a dimness over your figures! You sit quivering indistinctly with each motion of the blaze, which eddies about you like a flood, so that you all have the look of visions, or people that dwell only in the firelight, and will vanish from existence, as completely as your own shadows, when the flame shall sink among the embers. Hark! let me listen for the swell of the surf; it should be audible a mile inland, on a night like this. Yes; there I catch the sound, but only as uncertain murmur, as if a good way down over the beach; though, by the almanac, it is high tide at eight o'clock, and the billows must now be dashing within thirty yards of our door. Ah! the old man's ears are failing him; and so is his eyesight, and perhaps his mind, else you would not all be so shadowy in the blaze of his Thanksgiving fire. How strangely the past is peeping over the shoul- ders of the present! To judge by my recollections, it is but a few moments since I sat in another room; yonder model of a vessel was not there, nor the old chest of drawers, nor Susan's profile and mine, in that gilt frame; nothing, in short, except this same fire, which glimmered on books, papers, and a picture, and half discovered my solitary figure in a looking- glass. But it was paler than my rugged old self, and younger, too, by almost half a century. Speak to me, Susan; speak, my beloved ones; for the scene is glimmering on my sight again, and as it brightens you fade away. Oh! I should be loth to lose my treasure of past happiness, and become once more what I was then; a hermit in the depths of my own mind; sometimes yawning over drowsy volumes, and anon a scribbler of wearier trash than what I read; a man who had wandered out of the real world and got into its shadow, where his troubles, joys and vicissitudes were of such slight stuff, that he hardly knew whether he lived, or only dreamed of living. Thank heaven, I am an old man now, and have done with all such vanities. Still this dimness of mine eyes! Come nearer, Susan, and stand before the fullest blaze of the hearth. Now I behold you illuminated from head to foot, in your clean cap and decent gown, with the dear lock of gray hair across your forehead, and a quiet smile about your mouth, while the eyes alone are concealed, by the red gleam of the fire upon your spectacles. There, you made me tremble again! When the flame quivered, my sweet Susan, you quivered with it, and grew indistinct, as if melting into the warm light, that my last glimpse of you might be as visionary as the first was, full many a year since. Do you remember it? You stood on the little bridge, over the brook that runs across King's Beach into the sea. It was twilight; the waves rolling in, the wind sweeping by, the crimson clouds fading in the west, and the silver moon brightening above the hill; and on the bridge were you, fluttering in the breeze like a sea bird that might skim away at your pleasure. You seemed a daughter of the viewless wind, a creature of the ocean foam and crimson light, whose merry life was spent in dancing on the crests of the billows, that threw up their spray to support your footsteps. As I drew nearer, I fancied you akin to the race of mermaids, and thought how pleasant it would be to dwell with you among the quiet coves, in the shadow of the cliffs, and to roam along secluded beaches of the purest sand, and when our norther shores grew bleak, to haunt the islands, green and lonely, far amid summer seas. And yet it gladdened me, after all this nonsense, to find you nothing but a pretty young girl, sadly perplexed with the rude be- havior of the wind about your petticoats. Thus I did with Susan as with most other things in my earlier days, dipping her image into my mind and coloring it of a thousand fantastic hues, before I could see her as she really was. Now, Susan, for a sober picture of our village! It was a small col- lection of dwellings that seemed to have been cast up by the sea, with the rock weeds and marine plants among the pipe staves and other lumber, which had been washed from the deck of an eastern schooner. There was just space for the narrow and sandy street between the beach in front, and a precipitous hill that lifted its rocky forehead in the rear, among a waste of juniper bushes and the wild growth of a broken pasture. The village was pict- uresque, in the variety of its edifices, though all were rude. Here stood a little old hovel, built, per- haps, of drift wood, there a row of boat houses, and beyond them a two story dwelling, of dark and weather-beaten aspect, the whole intermixed with one or two snug cottages, painted white, a suffici- ency of pig-styes, and a shoemaker's shop. Two grocery stores stood opposite each other, in the centre of the village. These were the places of re- sort, at their idle hours, of a hardy throng of fisher- men, in red baize shirts, oil cloth trousers, and bots of brown leather covering the whole leg; true seven league boots, but fitter to wade the ocean than walk the earth. The wearers seemed amphib- ious, as if they did but creep out of salt water to sun themselves; nor would it have been wonderful to see their lower limbs covered with clusters of little shell fish, such as cling to rocks and old ship timbers over which the tide ebbs and flows. When their fleet of boats was weather bound, the butchers raised their price, and the spit was busier than the frying pan; for this was a place of fish, and known as such, to all the country round about; the very air was fishy, being perfumed with dead sculpins, hard heads and dog fish, strewn plentifully on the beach. You see, children, the village is but little changed, since your mother and I were young. How like a dream it was, when I bent over a pool of water, one pleasant morning, and saw that the ocean had dashed its spray over me and made me a fisherman! There was the tarpaulin, the baize shirt the oil cloth trousers and seven league boots, and there my own features, but so reddened with sun- burn and sea breezes, that methought I had another face, and on other shoulders too. The sea gulls and the loons, and I, had now all one trade; we skimmed the crested waves and sought our prey beneath them, the man with as keen enjoyment as the birds. Al- ways when the east grew purple, I launched my dory, my little flat-bottomed skiff, and rowed cross-handed to Point Ledge, the Middle Ledge, or, perhaps, be- yond Egg Rock; often, too, did I anchor off Dread Ledge, a spot of peril to ships unpiloted; and some- times spread an adventurous sail and tracked across the bay to South Shore, casting my lines in sight of Scituate. Ere night fall, I hauled my skiff high and dry on the beach, laden with red rock cod, or the white bellied ones of deep water; haddock, bear- ing the black marks of Saint Peter's finger's near the gills; the long-bearded hake, whose liver holds oil enough for a midnight lamp; and now and then a mighty halibut, with a back as broad as my boat. In the autumn, I toted and caught those lovely fish, the mackerel. When the wind was high; when the whale boats, anchored off the Point, nodded their slender masts at each other, and the dories pitched and tossed in the surf; when Nahant Beach was thundering three miles off, and the spray broke a hundred feet in air, round the distant base of Egg Rock; when the brimful and boisterous sea threat- ened to tumble over the street of our village; then I made a holiday on shore. Many such a day did I sit snugly in Mr. Bartlett's store, attentive to the yarns of uncle Parker; uncle to the whole village, by right of seniority, but of southern blood, with no kindred in New England. His figure is before me now, enthroned upon a mack- erel barrel; a lean old man, of great height, but bent with years, and twisted into an uncouth shape by seven broken limbs; furrowed also and weath- er-worn, as if every gale, for the better part of a century, had caught him somewhere on the sea. He looked like a harbinger of tempest; a shipmate of the Flying Dutchman. After innumerable voyages aboard men-of-war and merchantmen, fishing schoon- ers and chebacco boats, the old salt had become master of a hand-cart, which he daily trundled about the vicinity, ans sometimes blew his fish horn through the streets of Salem. One of uncle Parker's eyes had been blown out with gunpowder, and the other did but glimmer in its socket. Turning it up- ward as he spoke, it was his delight to tell of cruises against the French, and battles with his own ship- mates, when he and an antagonist used to be seated astride of a sailor's chest, each fastened down by a spike nail through his trousers, and there to fight it out. Sometimes he expatiated on the delicious flavor of the hagden, a greasy and goose-like fowl, which the sailors catch with hook and line on the Grand Banks. He dwelt with rapture on interminable winter at the Isle of Sables, where he had gladdened himself, amid polar snows, with the rum and sugar saved from the wreck of a West India schooner. And wrathfully did he shake his fist, as he related how a party of Cape Cod men had robbed him and his companions of their lawful spoil, and sailed away with every keg of old Jamaica, leaving him not a drop to drown his sorrow. Villains they were, and of that wicked brotherhood who are said to tie lan- terns to hoses' tails, to mislead the mariner along the dangerous shores of the Cape. Even now, I seem to see the group of fishermen, with that old salt in the midst. One fellow sits on the counter, a second bestrides an oil barrel, a third lolls at his length on a parcel of new cod lines, and another has planted the tarry seat of his trousers on a heap of salt, which will shortly be sprinkled over a lot of fish. They are a likely set of men. Some have voyaged to the East Indies or the Pacific, and most of them have sailed in Marblehead schooners to Newfoundland; a few have been no farther than the Middle Banks, and one or two have always fished along the shore; but as uncle Parker used to say, they have all been christened in salt water, and know more than men ever learn in the bushes. A curious figure, by way of contrast, is a fish-dealer from far up- country, listening with eye wide open, to narratives that might startle Sinbad the sailor. Be it well with you, my brethren! Ye are all gone, some to your graves ashore, and others to the depths of the ocean; but my faith is strong that ye are happy; for when- ever I behold your forms, whether in dream or vision, each departed friend is puffing his long nine, and a mug of the right black strap goes round from lip to lip! But where was the mermaid in those delightful times? At a certain window near the centre of the village, appeared a pretty display of gingerbread men and horses, picture books and ballads, small fish- hooks, pins, needles, sugar-plums and brass thimbles, articles on which the young fishermen used to expend their money from pure gallantry. What a picture was Susan behind the counter. A slender maiden, though the child of rugged parents, she had the slim- mest of all waists, brown hair curling on her neck, and a complexion rather pale, except when the sea breeze flushed it. A few freckles became beauty spots beneath her eyelids. How was it, Susan, that you talked and acted so carelessly, yet always for the best, doing whatever was right in your own eyes, and never once doing wrong in mine, nor shocked a taste that had been morbidly sensitive till now? And whence you had that happiest gift, of bright- ening every topic with an unsought gayety, quiet but irresistible, so that even gloomy spirits felt your sun- shine, and did not shrink from it. Nature wrought the charm. She made you a frank, simple, kind- hearted, sensible, and mirthful girl. Obeying nature, you did free things without indelicacy, displayed a maiden's thoughts to every eye, and proved yourself as innocent as naked Eve. It was beautiful to observe how her simple and happy nature mingled itself with mine. She kindled a domestic fire within my heart, and took up her dwelling there, even in that chill and lonesome cav- ern, hung round with glittering icicles of fancy. She gave me warmth of feeling, while the influence of my mind made her contemplative. I taught her to love the moonlight hour, when the expanse of the encircled bay was smooth as a great mirror and slept in a transparent shadow; while beyond Na- hant, the wind rippled the dim ocean into a dreamy brightness, which grew faint afar off, without be- coming gloomier. I held her hand and pointed to the long surf-wave, as it rolled calmly on the beach, in an unbroken line of silver; we were silent to- gether, till its deep and peaceful murmur had swept by us. When the Sabbath sun shone down into the recesses of the cliffs, I led the mermaid thither, and told her that those huge, gray, shattered rocks, and her native sea, that raged for ever like a storm against them, and her own slender beauty, in so stern a scene, were all combined into a strain of poetry. But on the Sabbath eve, when her mother had gone early to bed, and her gentle sister had smiled and left us, as we sat alone by the quiet hearth, with household things around, it was her turn to make me feel, that here was a deeper poetry, and that this was the dearest hour of all. Thus went on our wooing, till I had shot wild fowl enough to feather our bridal bed, and the Daughter of the Sea was mine. I built a cottage for Susan and myself, and made a gateway in the form of a Gothic arch, by setting up a whale's jaw bones. We bought a heifer with her first calf, and had a little garden on the hillside, to supply us with potatoes and green sauce for our fish. Our parlor, small and neat, was ornamented with our two profiles in one gilt frame, and with shells and pretty pebbles on the mantelpiece, se- lected from the sea's treasury of such things, on Nahant Beach. On the desk, beneath the looking glass, lay a Bible, which I had begun to read aloud at the book of Genesis, and the singing book that Susan used for her evening psalm. Except the al- manac, we had no other literature. All that I heard of books was when an Indian history, or tale of ship- wreck, was sold by a peddler or wandering subscrip- tion man, to some one in the village, and read through its owner's nose to a slumbrous auditory. Like my brother fisherman, I grew into the belief that all human erudition was collected in our peda- gogue, whose green spectacles and solemn phiz, as he passed to his little school house, amid a waste of sand, might have gained him a diploma from any collage in New England. In truth I dreaded him. When our children were old enough to claim his care, you remember, Susan, how I frowned, though you were pleased, at this learned man's encomiums on their proficiency. I feared to trust them even with the alphabet; it was the key to a fatal treasure. But I loved to lead them by their little hands along the beach, and point to nature in the vast and the minute, the sky, the sea, the green earth, the pebbles and the shells. Then did I discourse of the mighty works and coextensive goodness of the Deity, with the simple wisdom of a man whose mind had prof- ited by lonely days upon the deep, and his heart by the strong and pure affection of his evening home. Sometimes my voice lost itself in a tremendous depth; for I felt His eyes upon me as I spoke. Once, while my wife and all of us were gazing at ourselves, in the mirror left by the tide in the hollow of the sand, I pointed to the pictured Heaven below, and bade her observe how religion was strewn everywhere in our path; since even a casual pool of water recalled the idea of that home whither we were travelling, to rest for ever with our children. Suddenly your image, Susan, and all the little faces made up of yours and mine, seemed to fade away and vanish around me, leaving a pale visage like my own of former days within the frame of a large looking-glass. Strange illusion! My life glided on, the past appearing to mingle with the present and absorb the future, till the whole lies before me at a glance. My manhood has long been waning with a stanch decay; my earlier con- temporaries, after lives of unbroken health, are all at rest, without having known the weariness of later age; and now with a wrinkled forehead and thin white hair as badges of my dignity, I have become the patriarch, the Uncle of the village. I love that name; it widens the circle of my sympathies; it joins all the youthful to my household, in the kindred of affection. Like uncle Parker, whose rheumatic bones were dashed against Egg Rock, full forty years ago, I am a spinner of long yarns. Seated on the gunnel of a dory, on the sunny side of a boat house, where the warmth is grateful to my limbs, or by my own hearth, when a friend or two are there, I overflow with talk, and yet am never tedious. With a broken voice I give utterance to much wisdom. Such, heaven be praised! is the vigor of my faculties, that many a forgotten usage, and traditions ancient in my youth, and early adventures of myself or others, hitherto effaced by things more recent, acquire new distinct- ness in my memory. I remember the happy days when the haddock were more numerous on all the fishing grounds than sculpins in the surf; when the deep water cod swam close in shore, and the dog- fish, with his poisonous horn, had not learnt to take the hook. I can number every equinoctial storm, in which the sea has overwhelmed the street, flooded the cellars of the village, and hissed upon our kitchen hearth. I give the history of the great whale that was landed on Whale Beach, and whose jaws, being now my gate way, will last for ages after my coffin shall have passed beneath them. Thence it is an easy digression to the halibut, scarcely smaller than the whale, which ran out six codlines, and hauled my dory to the mouth of Boston harbor before I could touch him with the gaff. If melancholy accidents be the theme of con- versation, I tell how a friend of mine was taken out of his boat by an enormous shark; and the sad, true tale of a young man on the eve of marriage, who had been nine days missing, when his drowned body floated into the very pathway, on Marblehead neck, that had often led him to the dwelling of his bride; as if the dripping corpse would have come where the mourner was. With such awful fidelity did that lover return to fulfill his vows! Another favorite story is of a crazy maiden, who conversed with angels and had the gift of prophecy, and whom all the village loved and pitied, though she went from door to door accusing us of sin, exhorting to repentance, and foretelling our destruction by flood or earthquake. If the young men boast their knowledge of the ledges and sunken rocks, I speak of pilots who knew the wind by its scent and the wave by its taste, and could have steered blindfold to any port between Boston and Mount Desert, guided only by the rote of the shore; the peculiar sound of the surf on each island, beach, and line of rocks along the coast. Thus do I talk, and all my auditors grow wise, while they deem it pastime. I recollect no happier portion of my life, than this, my calm old age. It is like the sunny and sheltered slope of a valley, where, late in the autumn, the grass is greener than in August, and intermixed with golden dandelions, that had not bee seen till now, since the first warmth of the year. But with me, the verdure and the flowers are not frost-bitten in the midst of winter. A play- fulness has revisited my mind; a sympathy with the young and gay; an unpainful interest in the busi- ness of others; a light and wandering curiosity; arising, perhaps, from the sense that my toil on earth is ended, and the brief hour till bedtime may be spent in play. Still, I have fancied that there is a depth of feeling and reflection, under the superfi- cial levity, peculiar to one who has lived long, and is soon to die. Show me any thing that would make an infant smile, and you shall behold a gleam of mirth over the hoary ruin of my visage. I can spend a pleas- ant hour in the sun, watching the sports of the village children, on the edge of the surf: now they chase the retreating wave far down over the wet sand; now it steals softly up to kiss their naked feet; now it comes onward with threatening front, and roars after the laughing crew, as they scamper beyond its reach. Why should an old man be merry too, when the great sea is at play with those little children? I delight, also, to follow in the wake of a pleasure party of young men and girls, strolling along the beach, after an early supper at the Point. Here, with handkerchief at nose, they bend over a heap of eel grass, entangled in which is a dead skate, so oddly accoutred with two legs and a long tail, that they mistake him for a drowned animal. A few steps further, the ladies scream, and the gentlemen make ready to protect them against a young shark of the dog-fish kind, rolling with a lifelike motion in the tide that has thrown him up. Next, they are smit with wonder at the black shells of a wagon load of live lobsters, packed in rockweed for the country market. And when they reach the fleet of dories, just hauled ashore after the day's fishing, how do I laugh in my sleeve and sometimes roar outright, at the simplicity of these young folks and the sly humor of the fisher- men! In winter, when our village is thrown into a bustle on the arrival of perhaps a score of country dealers, bargaining for frozen fish, to be transported hundreds of miles, and eaten fresh in Vermont or Canada, I am a pleased but idle spectator in the throng. For I launch my boat no more. When the shore was solitary, I have found a pleasure that seemed even to exalt my mind, in observing the sports or contentions of two gulls, as they wheeled and hovered about each other, with hoarse screams, one moment flapping on the foam of the wave, and then soaring aloft, till their white bosoms melted into the upper sunshine. In the calm of the summer sunset, I drag my aged limbs, with a little ostentation of activity, because I am so old, up to the rocky brow of the hill. There I see the white sails of many a vessel, outward bound, or homeward from afar, and the black trail of a vapor behind the eastern steamboat; there, too, is the sun, going down, but not in gloom, and there the illimitable ocean mingling with the sky, to remind me of Eternity. But sweetest of all is the hour of cheerful mus- ing and pleasant talk, that comes between the dusk and the lighted candle, by my glowing fireside. And, never, even on the first Thanksgiving night, when Susan and I sat alone with our hopes, nor the second, when a stranger had been sent to gladden us, and be the visible image of our affection, did I feel such joy as now. All that belong to me are here; Death has taken none, nor Disease kept them away, nor Strife divided them from their parents or each other: with neither poverty nor riches to disturb them, nor the misery of desires beyond their lot, they have kept New England's festival round the patriarch's board. For I am a patriarch! Here I sit among my descendants, in my old arm chair and immemorial corner, while the firelight throws an appropriate glory round my ven- erable frame. Susan! My children! Something whispers me, that this happiest hour must be the final one, and that nothing remains but to bless you all, and depart with a treasure of recollected joys to Heaven. Will you meet me there? Alas! your figures grow indistinct, fading into pictures on the air, and now fainter outlines, while the fire is glimmering on the walls of a familiar room, and shows the book that I flung down, and the sheet that I left half written, some fifty years ago. I lift my eyes to the looking-glass, and perceive myself alone, unless those be the mermaid's features, retiring into the depths of the mirror, with a tender and melancholy smile. Ah! One feels a chilliness, not bodily, but about the heart, and, moreover a foolish dread of looking behind him, after these pastimes. I can imagine precisely how a magician would sit down in gloom and terror, after dismissing the shadows that had personated dead or distant people, and stripping his cavern of the unreal splendor which had changed it to a palace. And now for a moral to my reverie. Shall it be, that, since fancy can create so bright a dream of happiness, it were better to dream on from youth to age, than to awake and strive doubtfully for something real! Oh! the slight tissue of a dream can no more preserve us from the stern reality of misfortune, than a robe of cobweb could repel the wintry blast. Be this the moral, then. In chaste and warm affec- tions, humble wishes, and honest toil for some useful end, there is health for the mind, and quiet for the heart, the prospect of a happy life, and the fairest hope of Heaven. 
From Twice-Told Tales, Vol. II, by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Ten Cent Classics Edition, Vol. III., No. 68. Educational Publishing Co., 50 Bromfield St, Boston; pp. 80—94.
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2019.04.05 13:58 Mado2019 Restaurantes Arabe en MaDRID

Kabuki could necessarily mean also "they working day I found out which i have never eaten actual tuna". This is an extremely high priced cafe but it surely worths each individual penny.
Simply because was a gem hidden in town'centre, and now all the newest bars and restaurants designers are there.
Take a peek at our array of The most crucial occasions occurring this 12 months in Madrid and start organizing your subsequent visit!
A worthy traditional on each individual Madrileño’s bar-hopping route, in addition to an oasis while in the stylish Malasaña, the location is usually crowded — a superb place to experience Madrid’s bar scene at its greatest. [$]
This restaurant may be very associated Using the vegetables, as it is possible to guess studying the put's title, but it's not a vegetarian cafe. All their dishes are quite healthy and delicious at the same time.
enthusiasts like Sophia Loren and Ernest Hemingway alongside their idols, like Manolete. The broadly appealing menu attributes dishes like classic oxtail stew and fried hake. Evidence that this put isn’t much too stuffy? Anthony Bourdain ate in this article… and he cherished it. [$$]
La Biblioteca cafe was after the library of your Duke of Santo Mauro, and authentic functions like the antique fireplace, guide-lined partitions and cherry Wooden paneling remain to provide a scholarly ambiance.
A lovable and cozy restaurant with only eight tables. The owners are super nice and pleasant and would acquire a few minutes to clarify every single dish if you need so.
The pretty staid environs of this gentlemen's club eating home (put on a tie) deliver the not likely environment for a restaurant encouraged and initially overseen by iconic chef Ferran Adrià and now operate by considered one of his most illustrious disciples, Paco Roncero. It might boast of a few Repsol suns and two Michelin stars. What extra can we say?
En cumplimiento con la ley 34/2002, de servicios de la sociedad de la información te recordamos que Mejor restaurante Madrid al navegar por esta World-wide-web estas aceptando el uso de cookies. Aceptar Leer más
Spain’s cash is awash with tapas bars but How would you find the excellent kinds amid the sea of tourist-traps? Madrid-centered food items writer
Go to Web page Galicia’s seafood and trademark Delicacies has discovered itself a house in the town Centre courtesy of chef Iván Dominguez. The cafe’s inside is composed of a long counter having an open up kitchen exactly where Mejor restaurante Madrid the cooks are prominently on Display screen when they generate, Prepare dinner, and plate the dishes.
David Muñoz’s restaurant wants no introduction. In only 5 years, this chef went from remaining a whole unfamiliar to successful the Spanish Nationwide Prize for Gastronomy and getting awarded a few Michelin stars for his cafe DiverXO, exactly where he has long gone for an elaborate variety of Delicacies, mixing the flavours, textures and tactics of haute cuisine.
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2019.01.10 18:52 AzureBeast Respect Lord Dominator (Wander Over Yonder)

Lord Dominator

"What am I, boys?"
"She's the bad guy."
Lord Dominator started her career as a relatively unknown villain, but soon became feared throughout the galaxy for her ruthless robotic army and tendency to destroy planets instead of ruling them. Though several villains fought against her for supremacy, she soon dominated all of them, rising to the rank of #1 villain in the galaxy. All except one. Lord Hater, the former #1 villain, continued to resist her rule while attempt to woo her. She nearly accomplished her goal, destroying every planet in the galaxy besides one hidden minuscule planet. She would be defeated by Lord Hater, ad ran away from Wander following the battle after he offered to be her friend.
Note for scale: Sylvia is stated to be 10 ft. tall. Lord Hater is about the same height as Sylvia and Dominator is slightly taller than Hater when she's undisguised. Fully armored Dominator is taller than her unarmored form. Another thing to keep in mind is that size is often played fast and loose in order for the viewer to see what's going on, and thus in some scenes characters will appear bigger than they actually are and locations will appear smaller.

Unarmored Physicals

Strength

Speed/Agility

Armored Physicals

Strength

Durability

Speed/Agility

Skill/Misc

Powers

Lava Manipulation

Power
Shaping
Other

Ice Manipulation

Following a failed attempt to freeze her power core, Dominator found that she could wield both lava and ice.
Power
Shaping
Other

Gear

Armor

Weapons
Other Features

Other

Minions

Magma Droids

Weapons
Strength
Durability
Speed
Other Functions

Magma Tank

General
Weaponry
Strength
Durability

Probe Bots

General
Speed
Strength
Weaponry
Durability

Battle Cruiser

Weapons

Drill
Lasers
Missiles

Mech Form

Misc

"I came, I saw, and I DOMINATED!"
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2019.01.10 18:51 AzureBeast Respect Lord Hater (Wander Over Yonder)

Lord Hater

"I have mangled the minds of millions! I have tempted forth torrential tides of tears! I have reduced the richest of republics to rubble and ruin! Because I... Am the greatest in all the galaxy!"
The backstory of Lord Hater is a mystery to many, but what is known is that he is a tyrannical warmonger bent on conquering the universe. Though he was once the top villain in the galaxy, Hater lost sight of his goal when he was introduced the the Star Nomad Wander, a creature that constantly evaded his grasp and attempts to destroy him. Hater became hung up on attempting to destroy Wander, losing his standing among the villains. Realizing that he had fallen from grace, Hater tried to give up on destroying Wander and worked on rebuilding his former glory. Hater himself is incompetent when it comes to the bureaucratic side of conquering, but thankfully his right hand man Commander Peepers is smart enough for the both of them. After Lord Dominator claimed the title of #1 villain in the galaxy, Hater worked to usurp the title and woo her, eventually defeating her at the very last planet in the galaxy.
Hover over feats for the episode name. Because Hater is powered by anger and thus usually angry, I will mark feats where he is especially angry, as he operates above his usual capacity, with EA.
Note for scale: Sylvia is stated to be 10 ft. tall. Lord Hater is about the same height as Sylvia. Another thing to keep in mind is that size is often played fast and loose in order for the viewer to see what's going on, and thus in some scenes characters will appear bigger than they actually are and locations will appear smaller.

Physicals

Strength

Striking
Pushing/Pulling
Other

Durability

Blunt
Fire/Explosive/Energy
Other

Speed/Agility

Skill/Misc

Gear

Misc

The Sword of Synergy

Skull Ship

General
Strength
Speed
Durability
Weapons
Other

Robomechabotatron

A legendary weapon forged at the dawn of time, Robomechabotatron was built to defend the universe from those who threatened to destroy it. After completing its first mission, the robot was sealed away until it was again needed to save the universe. It lay dormant until it was sought out by Wander, Sylvia, Peepers, and Lord Hater to use as a weapon against Lord Dominator (and in the case of the latter pair, to conquer the galaxy). The quartet joined forces to pilot the robot in a fight against Dominator. Thanks to Wander's pacifist nature and Lord Hater's over-zealousness, the robot was destroyed.
General
Weaponry
Strength
Durability

Minions

Watchdogs

Captain Tim

Power of Hate

Anger

Teleportation

Forcefields

Telekinesis

Electricity Projection

Power
Heat
Other

Other

"Lord Hater, #1 Superstar"
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2018.12.07 20:03 LameJames1618 Respect Clark Kent/Kal-El/Superman (Smallville)

Clark Kent, aka Kal-El, aka Superman is Earth's greatest hero and the main protagonist of Smallville. Hailing from the planet Krypton, Clark is a super-powered alien who was raised in Smallville, Kansas. He resided there until his early adult years, when he moved to Metropolis.
Born as Kal-El to Jor-El and Lara-El, Clark was sent to Earth by his parents to fulfill a destiny in which he would become the savior of humanity: he was rocketed off of the planet just minutes before its destruction. Accompanied by a massive meteor shower, his spaceship crash-landed in Miller's Field in Smallville: there, he was found by farmers Jonathan Kent and Martha Kent to which they raised him as their son, instilling in him strong moral principles and teaching him to use his abilities for good. Thanks to the yellow sun, Clark developed many Kryptonian powers that grew stronger as he got older. He learned much about his origins from Dr. Virgil Swann, a journal and an artificial intelligence version of Jor-El. Clark secretly fought crime around his hometown during his high school years and moonlit as a vigilante throughout Metropolis initially known as the Good Samaritan, then as the Red-Blue Blur, and then simply as the Blur. By day, he works as a reporter at the Daily Planet and manages his family's farm.
Clark Kent's powers and abilities have grown more powerful as he's gotten older while under Earth's yellow sun. As such, when hovering over each feat, a title will indicate which season it took place in. Except for feats which don’t seem to change over time, such as kryptonite or magic vulnerability.

Powers:

• Super Strength
• High Durability
• Super Speed
• Flight
• Super Hearing
• Super Breath
• Healing Factor
• Heat Vision
• X-ray vision
• Multi-spectrum vision
• Super Vision
• Solar radiation absorption
• Increased Mental Capacity and Telepathic Resistance
• Longevity
• Reality Warping Resistance

Super Strength:

• Striking/Arm Strength:
• Leaping:
• Other:

Durability:

• Blunt Force:
• Blades and Edged Weapons:
• Heat/Explosions:
• Cold:
• Other:

Super Speed:

• Running:
• Reaction/Movement Time:
• Swimming:

Flight:

"No tights, no flights" is a rule created by Smallville creators Alfred Gough and Miles Millar. The rule prohibited Smallville from having Clark Kent possess the ability of flight and also from wearing his trademark Superman outfit. Which is why Clark’s flight feats are so intermittent, and why he doesn’t fully learn how to fly until the end of the show when he dons the Superman suit.
• Limitations:

Heat Vision:

X-Ray Vision:

• Limitations:

Telescopic Vision:

Micro-vision:

Mulit-spectrum vision:

Super Breath:

Super-hearing:

Freeze Breath:

Although Clark was likely capable of it ever since he developed super-breath, he never uses it until season 9.

Healing:

As a Kryptonian, he heals very quickly, especially when exposed to sunlight. Although even with that consideration, the rate he heals seems rather inconsistent throughout the show. It doesn’t seem to get more effective like his other powers and sometimes just flat out doesn't work when he's injured even when kryptonite isn't present.

Increased Mental Capacity/Telepathic Resistance:

Longevity:

Kryptonian Training:

After the death of Jimmy Olsen, Clark mourns goes to the fortress to receive training from his father so he can better protect people. Among other things, he learns how to fight.

Other:

Weaknesses/Limitations:

• Kryptonite:
• Black kryptonite, a black colored variant of kryptonite. It’s been able to “split” individuals, such as the Kryptonian monster Doomsday from Davis Bloom, and once split Lex Luthor into a good and evil half.
• Silver Kryptonite, an artificial variant of kryptonite made by Brainiac, it gives Clark paranoid delusions, but doesn’t seem to affect his powers except for it being able to penetrate his skin
• Blue Kryptonite, a blue variant of kryptonite which takes away Clark’s powers if it’s near him. At the same time, it makes him immune from the effect of green kryptonite:
• Gemstone Kryptonite, a variant of kryptonite which gives Clark the ability to hypnotize people after one exposure. (Ah yes, good old superhypnotism. What is this, Silver Age comics?) Even himself, but it doesn’t work on a person more than once, and when exposed to green kryptonite it negated the order he’d given himself.
• Gold Kryptonite, a golden variation of kryptonite which can permanently take away the powers of a Kryptonian.
• Magic:
• Solar Flares Mess With His Powers
• Red sun radiation
submitted by LameJames1618 to u/LameJames1618 [link] [comments]


2018.10.10 19:47 LambentEnigma Featuring Mari McCabe, AKA Vixen (Arrowverse)

Vixen

Appearance (animated)
Appearance (live action)
The Arrowverse is a shared universe based on DC Comics, primarily consisting of the TV shows Arrow, The Flash, and Legends of Tomorrow (with Supergirl taking place in a parallel universe). One of the lesser-known installments is Vixen, an animated web microseries.
Vixen stars the titular hero Mari McCabe, a vigilante based in the city of Detroit. After the African village she was born in was destroyed by a warlord, Mari was adopted by an American couple. She inherited a necklace from her birth mother, which turned out to be the totem of the god Anansi. With it, Mari can tap into the life force of animals, acquiring their powers.
Strength
Durability
Speed
Mobility
Other Abilities

Using Vixen on WhoWouldWin

When making a thread with Mari, be sure to specify Mari and not just Vixen, because there are two Vixens in the Arrowverse (the other being Mari’s grandmother, Amaya, from Legends of Tomorrow).
It’s worth mentioning that due to Legends of Tomorrow altering the timeline, the current timeline version of Mari is featless. It can be assumed that you’re referring to the original timeline version.

Recommended Viewing

The Vixen webseries can be watched at http://www.cwseed.com/. If you can, it’s preferable to watch Vixen: The Movie, which stitches together the episodes of the web series with additional scenes. However, I don’t think the movie is available legally online.
Bear in mind that you won’t know who some of the characters are unless you watch Arrow and The Flash. Vixen is best watched about halfway through season 4 of Arrow and season 2 of The Flash.

See Also

Vixen’s full respect thread
submitted by LambentEnigma to whowouldwin [link] [comments]


2018.10.06 19:11 BreadisGodbh Ever felt dupped by a podcast?

I had my first dupped feeling.. 89 episodes into a great crime podcast called Best Case Worst Case.
The two hosts have large crime"fighting" resumes and look at crimes and cases through multiple lens giving a unique, almost 360 degree view of whats happening behind the scenes.
Episode 89 changed it for me.
I searched podcasts and found this recent post about the same podcast and its current drama. . which I just replied to.
https://www.reddit.com/podcasts/comments/9j6k9k/francey_hakes_of_best_case_worst_case_being/
submitted by BreadisGodbh to podcasts [link] [comments]


2018.09.21 00:06 LambentEnigma [Featured character draft] Featuring Mari McCabe, AKA Vixen (Arrowverse)

Vixen

Appearance (animated)
Appearance (live action)
Mari McCabe is a vigilante based in the city of Detroit. After the African village she was born in was destroyed by a warlord, Mari was adopted by an American couple. She inherited a necklace from her birth mother, which turned out to be the totem of the god Anansi. With it, Mari can tap into the life force of animals, acquiring their powers.
Strength
Durability
Speed
Mobility
Other Abilities

Using Vixen on WhoWouldWin

When making a thread with Mari, be sure to specify Mari and not just Vixen, because there are two Vixens in the Arrowverse (the other being Mari’s grandmother, Amaya, from Legends of Tomorrow).
It’s worth mentioning that due to Legends of Tomorrow altering the timeline, the current timeline version of Mari is featless. It can be assumed that you’re referring to the original timeline version.

Recommended Viewing

The Vixen webseries can be watched at http://www.cwseed.com/. If you can, it’s preferable to watch Vixen: The Movie, which stitches together the episodes of the web series with additional scenes. However, I don’t think the movie is available legally online.
Bear in mind that you won’t know who some of the characters are unless you watch Arrow and The Flash. Vixen is best watched about halfway through season 4 of Arrow and season 2 of The Flash.
submitted by LambentEnigma to WhoWouldWinWorkshop [link] [comments]


2018.08.22 15:30 doctorgecko Respect Pikachu (Pokemon Anime: XY Series)

Main Pikachu Respect Thread

Previous Region: Unova
And now time for the next region. Welcome to Kalos!

Pikachu

The Electric Mouse Pokemon
Trainer: Ash Ketchum
Type: Electric
Weaknesses: Ground
Resistances: Flying, Electric, Steel
Height: 1'04"
Weight: 13.2 lb
During his journeys through the Decalore Islands on his return trip from Unova to Kanto Ash ran into and began traveling with a journalist named Alexa. Alexa was from a region Ash hadn't heard of called the Kalos region, and had a number of Pokemon he had never seen before. After learning about this, as well as the fact that Alexa's younger sister was a gym leader in the region, Ash and Pikachu set off with Alexa to the Kalos region in order to meet new Pokemon and compete in a new league.
A few XY specific notes
  • Feats will be marked based on which XY season they take place in
    • XY: The first XY season
    • KQ: AKA Kalos Quest, the second XY season
    • XYZ: The third Kalos season
    • KL: The Kalos League at the end of the XYZ season, as well as the Kalos Crisis and remaining XYZ episodes.
  • A number of Pikachu's feats scale off Greninja. As such...
Greninja RT for reference
Moves
  • Thunder Bolt: Fires of a bolt of electricity at his foe
  • Quick Attack: Charges forwards at high speed to strike his foe
  • Iron Tail: His tail glows and hardens, which he uses to strike his foe
  • Electro Ball: Forms a ball of electricity on his tail that he then hurls at his foe
Strength
Speed
The Log Feat
Mobility
Dodging
Striking
Thunder Bolt
Electrical Power
Destructive Power
Explosive Power
Blocking Attacks
Misc Power
AoE
Speed
Precision
Endurance
Quick Attack
Strength
Speed
Iron Tail
General Striking
Blocking Attacks
Cutting
Electro Ball
Misc Attacks
Unspecified Attack
Combination Attacks
Durability
Physical
Special
Misc
Misc
Physiology
Senses
Intelligence
And that's it for Kalos.
After this we've only got one more series before we're caught up with the anime.
Sun and Moon respect thread
Curious what else Ash's Pokemon are capable of?
Check out the full Ash Ketchum respect thread
submitted by doctorgecko to respectthreads [link] [comments]


2018.07.12 03:57 subreddit_stats Subreddit Stats: battlefield_one top posts from 2016-09-01 to 2018-07-11 13:39 PDT

Period: 678.56 days
Submissions Comments
Total 997 160669
Rate (per day) 1.47 236.61
Unique Redditors 790 40067
Combined Score 3199676 2531559

Top Submitters' Top Submissions

  1. 41043 points, 10 submissions: SNZR
    1. Y'all got anymore of them 'nades? (8986 points, 347 comments)
    2. Operations explained in 10 seconds (5759 points, 307 comments)
    3. Kolibri - 3 shots 7 kills (5744 points, 202 comments)
    4. Last night I arranged a decent gangbang (4486 points, 218 comments)
    5. My grind is ended. (4120 points, 230 comments)
    6. Medics used to ignore you? Now they ignore you, and steal your gun... (3029 points, 262 comments)
    7. There are two types of horsemen on Battlefield 1 (2885 points, 132 comments)
    8. Cavalry: Royal Flush (2126 points, 105 comments)
    9. Close escape after sector loss (2119 points, 113 comments)
    10. Press X to clench your butt (1789 points, 49 comments)
  2. 36363 points, 12 submissions: eddie1pop
    1. This dude killed me 12 times and sent me a smug msge mid game, revenge was about as satisfying as it gets.. (6487 points, 354 comments)
    2. "The force is strong with this one" (5379 points, 75 comments)
    3. Mondays... (3524 points, 110 comments)
    4. Surprise Motherfuckers! (3501 points, 143 comments)
    5. Lebel Love. 485m pilot headshot (3232 points, 100 comments)
    6. Destroy a Behemoth with the Kolibri 0/1 (3042 points, 78 comments)
    7. Doctor Death (2399 points, 100 comments)
    8. Flank 'n Spank (2224 points, 128 comments)
    9. Putting 'em down like a comment from EA (1885 points, 72 comments)
    10. Every hole's a goal. (1852 points, 159 comments)
  3. 29579 points, 6 submissions: VidvanElse
    1. Remember what you've learned (9692 points, 362 comments)
    2. The moment when you realize, you played to much RPGs (8827 points, 177 comments)
    3. Synchronized Gameplay: 8/10 (4026 points, 57 comments)
    4. Ok guys, here is the deal: I will run into hell to revive you but if I see you skipping for 0,1 sec., I won't even try (3382 points, 292 comments)
    5. Like a Nazgul searching for the ring (2087 points, 77 comments)
    6. Classic Teammate... (1565 points, 66 comments)
  4. 27055 points, 1 submission: cancerous_176
    1. You use the Internet. Take a stand and fight for it! (27055 points, 202 comments)
  5. 25662 points, 6 submissions: obxsguy
    1. Jesus Christ That's Jason Bourne (11418 points, 300 comments)
    2. Things battlefield_one Hates Starterpack (4069 points, 523 comments)
    3. Hmmm... (3401 points, 52 comments)
    4. On Caporetto there's a phonograph behind B flag which plays menu music and a one hit kill wine bottle. (2802 points, 151 comments)
    5. MFW I try using ammo crates instead of pouches (2621 points, 114 comments)
    6. These bayonet kills are getting out of hand (1351 points, 82 comments)
  6. 24655 points, 1 submission: Jaspersong
    1. Fact checking (24655 points, 397 comments)
  7. 23111 points, 10 submissions: El_Spacho
    1. To the people complaining about the fog... ["The Great War" visiting Fort Douaumont] (3111 points, 191 comments)
    2. Sometimes, after a long day of slaughtering enemies, you just want to take a nice little walk on the beach and enjoy the sunset. Just beautiful. (2854 points, 118 comments)
    3. Uhm, yeah that's one way to celebrate a clear victory... (2792 points, 79 comments)
    4. "Now the Germans with an attack, nice cross there from Phispa, in the middle is ffass waiting for the grenade...great header... Kill! Kill!!!!" (2441 points, 66 comments)
    5. The new lance-charge for the Russian Cavalry looks incredible! (2308 points, 255 comments)
    6. When you barely use AT mines and for a moment have absolutely no idea what just happened. (2255 points, 133 comments)
    7. Today, I became the meme... (2016 points, 66 comments)
    8. That's... That's not how you reload the Autoloading Extended. (1830 points, 60 comments)
    9. Congratulations... you played yourself. (1758 points, 29 comments)
    10. Not my brightest moment.... (1746 points, 95 comments)
  8. 21523 points, 3 submissions: HD90Rickyboby
    1. When you accept your destiny (12749 points, 178 comments)
    2. DICE PLEASE!! Atleast make the bunker collapse! (6911 points, 351 comments)
    3. Taking advantage of the situation (1863 points, 61 comments)
  9. 19094 points, 1 submission: pbrown92
    1. Stay...very...still... (19094 points, 908 comments)
  10. 19059 points, 6 submissions: KyleOrtonAllDay
    1. The least competent 15 seconds of Battlefield I've ever played (6173 points, 516 comments)
    2. As a Model 10 A user seeing the Martini Henry outcry (3625 points, 375 comments)
    3. It's not over till it's over (3282 points, 84 comments)
    4. In the world of infuriating BF1 glitches, this one's got to be up there. What. The. Fuck. (3039 points, 214 comments)
    5. 27 days play time and this is the first time I've ever seen a bomber driving across a field while trying to shoot at people. (1500 points, 142 comments)
    6. When you're the only line of defense, it feels like playing Horde Mode (1440 points, 66 comments)

Top Commenters

  1. El_Spacho (9653 points, 156 comments)
  2. sac_boy (9192 points, 220 comments)
  3. The_German_Soldat (7822 points, 161 comments)
  4. tallginger89 (6783 points, 175 comments)
  5. DANNYonPC (6026 points, 219 comments)
  6. Lampmonster1 (5590 points, 178 comments)
  7. eddie1pop (5556 points, 173 comments)
  8. BleedingUranium (5492 points, 203 comments)
  9. hundreddollarman (5375 points, 120 comments)
  10. tallandlanky (5020 points, 73 comments)

Top Submissions

  1. You use the Internet. Take a stand and fight for it! by cancerous_176 (27055 points, 202 comments)
  2. Fact checking by Jaspersong (24655 points, 397 comments)
  3. Stay...very...still... by pbrown92 (19094 points, 908 comments)
  4. Quite possibly the smoothest behemoth escape I’ve seen by TheIronLord1 (17292 points, 363 comments)
  5. My husband plays Battlefield 1. I made a painting inspired by some of the scenes I have seen from the game. by WonderlandOnAcid (17009 points, 348 comments)
  6. When you accidentally get put into a BF1 Trailer by The1AndOnlyLegoAlex (16626 points, 564 comments)
  7. Every time I'm in a plane turret by ohnodanny (16274 points, 376 comments)
  8. Every pilot in Bf1 by weedandspace (15512 points, 244 comments)
  9. Well that escalated quickly... by Jessejames106 (14858 points, 477 comments)
  10. #SquadGoals by ZenRiver1 (13835 points, 245 comments)

Top Comments

  1. 4808 points: Jaxro's comment in After 47 straight deaths, my gf finally gets her first kill playing "the shooting game."
  2. 2964 points: FidgetyFondler's comment in How did i miss?..
  3. 2933 points: watchoutyo's comment in Quite possibly the smoothest behemoth escape I’ve seen
  4. 2734 points: Ohgodwhatisthisidont's comment in My friend told me he doesn't care about skins, then sent me this
  5. 2659 points: GuardsmanWaffle's comment in Not even mad.
  6. 2490 points: SevenTom's comment in Real picture from Ballroom Blitz
  7. 2478 points: Phase--2's comment in Stay...very...still...
  8. 2402 points: thehat89's comment in After 47 straight deaths, my gf finally gets her first kill playing "the shooting game."
  9. 2171 points: indianabelushi's comment in Remember what you've learned
  10. 2075 points: ehhhcomeon's comment in I've had this blade for ages, given to me by my late uncle. I never knew what it was or where it came from. Thanks Battlefield
Generated with BBoe's Subreddit Stats
submitted by subreddit_stats to subreddit_stats [link] [comments]


2018.03.23 16:00 doctorgecko Respect Charizard (Pokemon Anime)

Charmander/Charmeleon/Charizard

Trainer: Damian (formerly)/Ash Ketchum (currently)
Species Information
Backstory as told by Ash
Personality: As a Charmander he was very kind hearted and friendly. However after evolving his personality did a 180 and he became violent and rude, personality traits that were retained after evolving. He was shown to only ever want to nap unless he could face a powerful Pokemon. After regaining his loyalty is still very headstrong and proud, but is also much friendlier and can be extremely affection towards his trainer.
Notes
  • The body of this thread will cover Charizard's fully evolved form. To see his pre-evolutions, as well as a more detailed background, scroll to the comments or click here
  • I will be including feats from movies and specials, but as there is some question on their canonicity these feats will be marked.
  • All feats will be labeled based on which series they occur in. The labels are as follows
    • OS: Kanto series (OS stands for Original Series)
    • OI: Orange Islands series
    • JJ: Johto Series (JJ stands for Johto Journeys)
    • JJ-CV: Johto Series after Charizard has trained in the Charicific Valley (which made him much stronger)
    • BF: Kanto Battle Frontier series
    • BW: Best Wishes or Unova series
Moves
Ash's Charizard has used more moves than any other Pokemon in the anime. Moves marked with an asterisk are ones he currently knows
Known as Charmander
  • Flamethrower:* Unleashes a powerful stream of fire from his mouth
  • Leer: Stares down his foe to lower their defenses
  • Rage: Takes hits from his opponent to increase the strength of his attacks
  • Skull Bash: Rams into the foe with his skull
  • Ember: Unleashes several red hot embers at his foe
  • Fire Spin: Creates a vortex of flame around his foe
Learned as Charizard
  • Submission: Spins around at high speed to incap his foe
  • Seismic Toss: Carries his foe high into the air and then slams them down into the ground
  • Dragon Rage: Unleashes a powerful ball of energy from his mouth
  • Take Down: Rams into his foe with a massive amount of force
  • Tackle: Rams into his foe
  • Dragon Breath: Unleashes a beam of energy from his mouth
  • Overheat: Heats up his body and then unleashes an extremely powerful stream of fire
  • Steel Wing: Hardens his wings and then strikes at his foe with them
  • Wing Attack:* His wing glows which he uses to strike at his foe
  • Slash:* His claws glow and extend, which he uses to slash at his foe
  • Dragon Tail:* His tail glows blue, which he uses to strike at his foe
Note that Charizard has been commanded to use the moves Mega Punch and Fly, but either refused or was unable to.
He is also capable of combining multiple moves together, such as fire spin and seismic toss.
Flamethrower
Heat
Blocking Attacks
Misc Power
Control/Utility
Other Fire Attacks
Fire Spin
Ember
Overheat
Energy Projection
Dragon Rage
Dragon Breath
Strength
No Attack
Seismic Toss
Take Down
Tackle
Steel Wing
Wing Attack
Slash
Dragon Tail
Speed
Reaction/Dodging
Blitzing
Aerial Mobility
Misc
Durability
Misc
And that's all for now
Curious what else Ash's Pokemon are capable of?
Check out the full Ash Ketchum Respect Thread
Other Charizard
submitted by doctorgecko to respectthreads [link] [comments]