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aller-geez · 20 days ago

Note

hey I don’t know if you are still taking Fic requests and if you aren’t totally get it but if you are may I request a sick and super sneezy Kriia fic? I don’t have a lot of specifics tbh she’s just one of my favorites and I wanted to request a fic of her 😅. Again if you aren’t taking any more I totally get it.

Hey there Nonny!

Wow I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to go through these fic requests! I’ve been working on my book so much it’s hard to find time to get to them all 🥲

Sorry that this got way too fluffy at the end, I can’t help it, they’re just my favorite right now 🥲

How to Have A Bad Day

Written & illustrated by: allergeez✨

Summary: In a snowbound city where glamour and grit coexist, Kriia, a determined but deeply under-the-weather performer, pushes through a punishing winter day to get what she’s earned. What begins as a simple trip to pick up her paycheck spirals into a fever-drenched journey of sheer willpower, resilience, and quiet vulnerability. Navigating freezing streets, social isolation, and her own deteriorating health, Kriia’s struggle is both poignant and painfully real. Amidst a swirl of sleet, neon lights, and relentless sneezes, her trek becomes a raw testament to the aching beauty of being cared for—just when you need it most. 3.9k words

Kriia wasn’t fit to be anywhere but in bed. Her head throbbed like a subwoofer at a rave, her nose was a faucet with a vendetta, and every inhale triggered a breathless tickle that built behind her sinuses like storm clouds ready to split wide open. Still, it was payday—and even if she was falling apart, her rent sure wasn’t. So she’d dragged herself out of her nest of blankets, throat raw, face flushed, and hoodie sleeves crusted with a thin layer of snot from her wiping her nose all night after its marathon on running, to stumble through the club doors like some kind of congested ghost.

The scent of perfume, sweat, and dollar bills hit her like a slap. The lights were low and hazy, throwing shimmery shadows over the main floor where the dancers were mid-set—goddesses in glitter and stilettos, lithe and electric as they arched and twisted around the pole. The bass thumped underfoot, rattling in her sinuses in the worst way.

“hh…H’Kxtchh!—h’Tschkkt! ngsh! H’NgXt! Hh‘gsch!”

Kriia stifled violently into the crook of her arm, jerking with each suppressed sneeze, the force leaving her blinking and dizzy. Her deep purple eyes streamed. Her nose was a miserable shade of red, and she sniffled harshly, her breath catching on another insistent tickle.

“hh’KNNxxgt—! Hh’Tsshhgnk!…k’gnsh! N’gxt! ….. Ughhh.”

The girls who usually danced alongside her glanced over with well-practiced disinterest—that is, until the sneezes started coming in thick, helpless fits. Then came the sidelong looks, the subtle recoils, the exaggerated scoots away. One girl pulled a silk robe tighter around her shoulders, muttering something under her breath about “airborne death.” Kriia didn’t blame them. She sounded contagious as hell.

Tissues crinkled in her hoodie pocket as she fished one out mid-step, pressing it to her nose for a desperate blow. Her breath hitched again—

“Nnch! Nkch! Ktch! Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!!!—”

She swayed in place, lightheaded, her voice a ragged whisper when she finally spoke: “Fff—fuck, okay. Jus’ get the check. Id add out. Easy…”

Easier said than done.

Chandra, her boss and the human embodiment of tight-laced grace under fire, was posted in the furthest booth, clipboard in hand and her gorgeously messy ringlet curls pinned perfectly behind her ears. She didn’t notice Kriia at first—not until the path cleared around her like a ripple effect, a single sickly elf girl trudging forward through a growing radius of avoidance. When Kriia locked eyes with her across the club, Chandra’s expression flickered. Panic. Thinly veiled horror. Then she composed herself like the seasoned pro she was.

Kriia barely made it a few feet from her before the tickle in her nose surged again with cruel, burning persistence.

“hh’tSCHtuhh!—hh’NGXshh!!—Hh-N’gxt! Heh’n’gtx! Huhhh.. n’gtx!!”

They tumbled from her in desperate, breathless bursts, head snapping forward each time, muffled only slightly by the now-damp tissue in her hand. Nearby patrons glanced over, recoiling in sync. One man full-on got up and moved tables.

“Don’t bi’d be,” she rasped, voice hoarse and breathy, waving vaguely as her next sneeze built in her throat. “Just fugki’g dyigg over here. Just—h’gTShhHh! hiIh’nG-kT—-!!”

When she finally reached Chandra, sniffling miserably, the woman pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed with enough weight to shift tectonic plates.

“Kriia,” she said, her voice flat, “I thought you called out sick.”

“I did,” Kriia croaked, nose twitching helplessly again. “But it’s payday, and I’b dot that sick—Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!! Nngch! H’tshhkt!! ngsh! H’NgXt! ”

“Jesus, you sound like a dying cat in a blender,” Chandra muttered, grimacing and holding the clipboard between them like a shield. “Give me five seconds to print your check. Do not sneeze on anything. Or anyone.”

“No prohh’GXNXshht!”—Kriia turned halfway, doubled over again into her sleeve. “…do probleb.”

At least, she thought as she blew her nose as discreetly as she could, she was already banned from touching the pole for a week. Small mercies.

By the time Kriia had her check folded and tucked into her hoodie pocket (between a packet of tissues and a crushed cough drop), her nose had given up entirely on the idea of functioning. It ran constantly, a drip that wouldn’t stop, even as she sniffled hard enough to make her sinuses scream in protest.

Outside, the world had turned into a white, whispering blur.

“Rex, baby, pleaaaaaase,” she whined into her phone, her voice nearly unrecognizable. “I wouldd’t ask udless I really deeded it. I feel like shiiit.”

On the other end of the line, Rexar’s voice was warm but firm. “Babe, if I could get away from this family thing, I would be there. I swear. But they’ve got the doors locked, and I think Theren’s been crying for twenty minutes straight.”

Kriia let out a congested groan, fog misting from her lips in the frigid air. “Whad about Rebi?”

Rex sighed. “His truck broke down again yesterday, I’m sorry babygirl. I’ll be back soon though, okay?”

She hung up, pocketed her phone with a heavy sniffle, and braced herself against the wind. The city street was a slushy mess, snow coming down sideways, stinging against her flushed cheeks. The walk home wasn’t long—maybe twenty minutes—but in her condition, it felt like a cursed pilgrimage.

Kriia buried her hands in the sleeves of her hoodie, shoulders hunched. Every breath she took felt like inhaling ice needles, and her nose tickled constantly from the cold. Her body gave a betrayed warning shiver.

“hh’Hnngxtchh!—h’kTSHHt! Hehh… hhh’Gkchhnntt!”

She tried to muffle them into her scarf, but the wet fabric clung to her mouth and only made her feel more suffocated. Her eyes streamed as she stumbled down the sidewalk, boots splashing through slush puddles, lashes frosted over and trembling from another oncoming fit.

“Hhhuhhh’TSCHHHhuh! Hh—hh-Nnch! Nkch! Ktch!—fuhhh—Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!!!—!”

Her legs shook with the effort, the world tilting just slightly beneath her. A kind older woman passing by gave her a wide berth, wrinkling her nose and walking faster. Kriia didn’t blame her. She sounded like the harbinger of a new strain of plague.

Halfway home, she ducked under the overhang of a closed florist shop, coughing raggedly into her elbow, eyes fluttering shut. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed sandpaper, her sinuses packed so tight it was a miracle she could still breathe through her mouth.

She reached into her pocket, fumbling for tissues—already damp, half-shredded—and pressed one to her nose just in time for another rapid-fire fit:

“hh’NKTschhh! hihh-N’gxt! Heh’n’gtx! Huhhh.. n’gtx!!”

When the world stopped spinning, she stayed huddled there for a moment, steam rising off her in the icy dusk, trying to summon the willpower to keep going.

But she did.

Because the sooner she got home, the sooner she could curl into a nest of blankets and hopefully pass out with Rex’s hoodie over her head and a hot water bottle to her chest.

She just had to survive ten more minutes.

And about thirty more sneezes.

The town of Vekin Hook glittered under a thick, ghostly veil of snow. Streetlights shimmered like frozen stars, casting hazy halos in the flurrying white. But none of that was beautiful to Kriia.

She could barely see it through the mess her body had become.

The wind howled mercilessly, tugging at her hood and sneaking through every gap in her clothes like it knew she was weak. Her crimson hair was soaked, sticking to her cheeks in icy strands. Her eyes—usually sharp and glowing with purpose—were glassy now, brimming with tears that refused to fall, blurred further by the unstoppable tickle deep in her sinuses.

“Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!! Nnnhg…. Hh—! Nngch! Hh-H’tshhkt!! ngsh! H’NgXt”

Her head snapped forward with every sneeze, making her stumble in the snowdrifts that lapped at her thighs. She hardly had time to recover between them. They came in desperate clusters, tearing through her like her own body was rebelling.

She gasped as another shiver rattled her bones. Her nose—red, sore, and leaking despite the pathetic wad of tissue she clung to—dripped relentlessly, leaving a damp trail down her philtrum and chin. Some of it had started to freeze along the edge of her scarf, stiffening in the bitter air. Her breath came in hiccuping, fogged bursts.

“h hh…H’Kxtchh!—h’Tschkkt! ngsh! H’NgXt! Hh‘gsch!”

She nearly tripped over her own boots as she staggered onto the last stretch of the walk. Rexar’s estate finally rose into view at the end of the street like a lighthouse through a snowstorm—massive, elegant, black stone walls crusted with snow and glowing faintly with firelight through the stained glass windows.

“F-Finally,” Kriia wheezed, voice sanded down to dust. “I’m… hhihh— h’gTShhHh! hiIh’nG-kT—-!!!—h-home.”

She half-sobbed as she made it to the door, snow crusting her knees and ankles, nose running like a faucet, body aching like she’d been thrown into a frozen river and left there to drown.

With shaking, blue-tinged fingers, she dug into her hoodie pocket. Crumpled tissues. Payday check. Another used tissue. No keys.

Her breath caught.

She patted her other pockets. Back ones. Coat lining.

Nothing.

A sick, quiet horror crept in.

“No. No, no, no, no—” she rasped, pressing her forehead to the door. “I had th’b-hh’CHhhkkt!—th’buhh—hhGNTchhh!—thehm this borning—hhhhuhhh…”

She turned slowly, like in a dream, and slumped down against the frozen front steps, arms wrapped around her knees.

Locked out.

It was almost funny.

Almost.

The tears came then, hot against frozen cheeks, streaking down a face already flushed with fever. Her nose dripped freely, breath coming in congested gasps. She didn’t even try to cover the next fit—there was no one around to see her anyway.

“Heh’n’gtx! Huhhh.. n’gtx! Hh‘gsch! Hh-hehh-k’gnsh! Ngt’chh! Hhptt’CH!!”

Her body curled forward each time, shoulders trembling, breath hitching with miserable inevitability.

And then… silence.

Just the soft whisper of snow falling around her, building up on her back, clinging to her lashes.

She didn’t have the strength to cry anymore.

But gods, she hoped someone would come home soon.

The cold had teeth.

Kriia sat hunched on the steps of the estate, snow blanketing her like she was just another piece of the scenery. Her hoodie was soaked through, sleeves stiff with half-frozen snot and tears. The small stack of tissues she'd once clung to had long since disintegrated in her hands, and she had nothing left to fight with but the crook of her elbow—and even that was damp, useless.

Her breath hitched again. She could feel it coming, like static crawling along her spine.

“hh-HHT’CHHh’uhhh! H’GSHHHt! hh’KTSHHhh-uhhh!”

She pitched forward with each one, crimson hair bouncing as the sneezes dragged her with them. They were relentless now—coming in waves that blurred together, leaving her dizzy and blinking at the swirling snow with glassy, purple eyes.

“hh’NKTschhh! hihh-N’gxt! Heh’n’gtx! Huhhh.. n’gtx!!”

Each one tore through her chest, wet and painful and loud. Her nose dripped with reckless abandon, a thin line running down her upper lip that she couldn’t stop, couldn’t hide, couldn’t do anything about except sob a little under her breath.

She sniffled thickly, but it did nothing—her sinuses were a wreck, raw and swollen and stuffed to the brim. The congestion had crept down into her chest, too, making every breath a struggle.

She wiped her face on her sleeve again with a whimper, blinking hard against the freezing burn in her eyes. “F-Fuggk,” she muttered weakly, voice shredded. “This is so... so stuhhh—hh’ihhH’TCHHHuhh!—stupid...”

She didn’t even hear the hummer pulling up over the wind.

But Rexar did.

And when his headlights lit up the front porch and caught a glimpse of the crumpled shape on the steps, his heart stuttered in his chest.

“Kriia?!”

The car was still running when he leapt out, slamming the door behind him, boots crunching across the snow. His entire frame was tense, ember-ringed eyes wide and horrified as he reached her.

“Babygirl—what the hell—” He dropped to his knees beside her, cupping her flushed, icy cheeks in his huge hands. “Why are you out here? Why didn’t you call me? You’re—shit, you’re burning up.”

Kriia tried to answer, but it dissolved instantly into another fit.

“Hh‘gsch!! Nnnhg…. Hh—! Nngch! Hh-H’tshhkt!! ngsh! H’NgXt”

Her whole body rocked, barely holding together, nose running freely now as she slumped forward again. “H-hihhh—hh’hhKNSHHt! I-I left by keys—hhuhhh—hh’TSSHHuhh!—didn’t wanna b-bother you if you were already cobi’g…” she croaked, shoulders trembling.

“Oh, princess...” Rexar’s voice cracked. “No. No, no—none of that. You can always bother me. Look at you, you're freezing.”

She didn’t protest when he slid off his coat and wrapped it around her, pulling her gently to her feet. Her legs buckled, but he caught her easily, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.

“Sshhh, I got you. I’m here now,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her damp forehead. “Let’s get you inside. We’re warming you up, and I’m not letting you lift a damn finger.”

Kriia didn’t argue. Didn’t pretend to be strong. She just sniffled thickly, curling into his chest, letting his warmth soak into her frozen bones.

“hh-hhh...hhT’chhhuhh! Hh’kxtnsschh!”

Rexar tucked her tighter against him, heart twisting. “That’s it, baby. Let it out. I’m here now.”

And this time, she really was home.

The warmth hit her in a rush the second Rexar shouldered open the front door—dry heat from the estate’s furnace flooding over her frozen skin, his coat still wrapped snug around her. He didn’t even pause at the threshold. Just carried her straight to the couch like she weighed nothing, whispering calming things into her tangled, overheated hair.

“Almost there, babygirl. Gonna get you all settled, okay?.”

Kriia let her head loll against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering with exhaustion. The harsh, freezing burn in her nose didn’t let up—not even indoors—and as he laid her gently onto the cushions, she barely had a second before she was pitching forward again.

“Hh’hhGkxtschhh!—HH’TCHsshhhuhh!—Hhuhh-KNSSHhhhk-uhhh!”

Rexar was already crouched beside her, cradling the back of her head, murmuring, “Bless you, princess. Easy now, I’ve got you.”

He reached for the box of tissues he’d brought over from the hall table, pulling a few free and holding one gently to her face. “Come on, blow. You’re all stuffed up.”

Kriia sniffled thickly, trying to shake her head in protest, but he didn’t give her the chance to retreat back into pride. Not tonight.

“Babygirl,” he said softly, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. “Let me help you.”

And just like that—just hearing that voice, that gentleness, that name—she caved. She closed her eyes and blew hard into the tissue he held for her, cheeks going red as the sound came out embarrassingly wet and congested.

Rexar didn’t flinch. Just wiped gently beneath her nose, kissing the crown of her head.

“There we go. Good girl.”

She whimpered something incoherent, sniffling still, nose twitching as another sneeze tried to crawl up her ruined sinuses. Her breath hitched, stuttered—and then stopped short, stuck painfully between buildup and release.

“Hhhuhh—hhh’Hhhuhhh… ughhh—R-Rexxx…”

“I got you,” he murmured, his voice low and steady as he shifted closer.

With a tenderness that sent shivers through her overworked frame, Rexar raised one hand and let the very tip of his nail trail delicately down the bridge of her nose. The contact was whisper-light, just enough to tease the building itch that had her breath catching. He traced the path with precision—slow and deliberate—until he reached the tip, then circled gently, coaxing the stubborn sneeze forward.

“Right here,” he whispered, using the edge of his nail to stroke carefully along the sensitive curve of her septum, back and forth in the faintest motion. “Let it go, princess.”

The sensation was maddening in the best way—soft and maddeningly exact, like a promise she couldn’t resist. Her breath hitched wildly, chest trembling against his side as her eyelids fluttered and her nose twitched helplessly.

Her breath hitched again, then again—until he leaned in close and whispered, just barely, “Bless you.”

It was enough.

“Hh’HHSCHHHuhh! Hh’GZCHHHhhk! Hhuhhh-KGT’SHHhh’uhh!”

The fit exploded from her, and she collapsed back into his chest, utterly destroyed. “I… I cad’t stob sdeezi’g…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered, wrapping her in the thickest blanket he could find. “You don’t have to. Just breathe. Just rest. I’m gonna take care of everything.”

Normally, she’d swat his hands away. Make some sarcastic quip. Puff herself back up and insist she was fine.

But not tonight.

Tonight she melted into him, curling her legs onto his lap, shivering and feverish and aching, and let herself be small in his arms. His hand was steady on her back, slow circles grounding her. His other hand held her own, thumb stroking the back of her knuckles.

She closed her eyes, breath ragged.

And for the first time all day, she felt safe enough to let go.

The bathroom was already warm by the time Rexar carried her in, steam curling like soft fingers around the wide marble tub. The overhead lights were dimmed to a golden glow, and the water—just shy of too hot—was laced with eucalyptus salts that kissed the air with a clean, bracing scent.

Kriia clung weakly to his shoulders, her nose a flushed mess of red and glistening misery against his collarbone. She was limp in his arms, too sick to protest, too exhausted to care about pride.

He knelt beside the tub, careful and patient, setting her down on the plush bath mat to undress her layer by layer. Her hoodie clung to her sweat-slick skin, and her hands trembled as she helped peel it off, only to fall into another breathless, hitching pre-sneeze spiral.

“Hhh—hh’ihhh-Hhhuhhh…!”

Rexar didn’t even pause, already holding the tissue up as her face crumpled.

“Let it out, babygirl.”

“hhh’nGNxxt! Ht’tchkt! Hihh’gxxxnt!! Hnngxgt!—snfhh…”

Each sneeze bent her in half, draining the little strength she had left. Her nose was raw, breath shallow, and her head throbbed with every release—but the sound of Rexar’s voice, calm and steady, wrapped around her like another blanket.

He kissed her hairline. “Let’s get you in.”

The second her body sank into the hot water, her shoulders slumped. Her eyes fluttered shut with relief, lashes damp, breath catching as the heat seeped into her aching bones.

“Better?” he asked, kneeling behind the tub and running his fingers gently through her tangled hair.

She could barely answer. Just nodded faintly, sniffling into her wrist.

Rexar gathered a handful of her crimson curls, massaging in lavender shampoo with a tenderness that made her chest ache. She tilted her head back, too weak to hold it steady on her own, and he supported her effortlessly, rinsing the suds out with a warm pour of water cupped in his hand.

She whimpered with the effort of another building sneeze, her breath hitching in a long, pitiful stutter. “Hhhuhhh-hhhuhh… R-Rexxx…”

He already had the tissue there.

“Go ahead, princess.”

“HhhGNTschhh!—hh’TSHHuhhkk!—Hhhuhhh… ughhhh…”

The sneezes knocked a soft cry out of her, and she reached blindly for his arm. He caught her hand, squeezing it in his.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. Just let it all out.”

He rinsed the soap from her skin next, dragging the warm water in smooth lines down her back and arms, cradling her like glass. She leaned fully into him as he washed the tension from her, lips parted with a shaky breath.

“Y-you dod’t have to d-do all this…” she whispered.

“I want to, Princess,” he said simply, cupping her cheek, his eyes heavy with nothing but love. “You’d do it for me.”

She didn’t answer that. Just blinked up at him, tears prickling from the strain of it all, and let herself believe that—for once—it was okay to not fight the comfort.

Rexar wrapped her in the fluffiest towel he could find, pressing her close to his chest as he carried her out of the bathroom. Her hair was damp and fragrant, skin flushed from the bath, and she was trembling more from exhaustion than chill now. Every few steps, her breath would stutter again, her nose twitching against his shirt as another round of helpless sneezes overtook her.

“Hhh’gnnxt! Hihh’tkshh! Hhh’Nxgshhh!”

She whimpered, curling tighter into him, and he didn’t flinch—just adjusted his grip and kept walking.

By the time they made it to the bedroom, she was more of a bundle than a person, bundled up in the towel and whatever strength she had left. Rexar laid her gently on the bed, the covers already turned down, the room warm from the central fireplace.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said softly, kneeling beside her.

Kriia blinked at him through bleary, purple-lashed eyes. Her nose was pink and puffy, her lips chapped, and her face slick with the aftermath of too many sneezes to count. Her voice cracked as she tried to laugh—“You’re so full of shit,” she rasped.

But Rexar was already unscrewing the jar of vapor rub, unfazed. “No, I’m not,” he murmured, scooping a bit with two fingers. “You’re sick as hell and still somehow the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he pressed the cool salve gently to her chest, rubbing in slow, steady circles. Her breath hitched again, but this time, she shivered for a different reason.

“Just breathe, babygirl,” he said, dotting a tiny amount under her poor, raw nose. “Let it work.”

She sighed, low and content, eyes finally drifting closed as he eased her back into the pillows. He climbed into bed behind her, slipping under the covers and gathering her into his arms. His body radiated heat like a furnace, his chest broad and solid beneath her as she nestled against him.

His fingers found her hair, still damp but soft, and he ran them through the strands slowly, soothingly.

“Hhh—n’gtx!… snfhh…” she sniffled, her final sneeze of the night quiet and tired.

“I got you,” he whispered into her hair. “Always.”

The tension drained from her all at once. Her body melted into his, soothed by his warmth and steady breathing, and with one last congested little sigh, a soft snore escaped her parted lips.

Rexar smiled, never stopping the gentle motion of his fingers, even as her breathing evened out. He stayed there all night, holding her close—his sick, sleepy, beautiful babygirl—until the morning light crept in, and she was safe and resting deeply in his arms.

The End ✨

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kaijuno · 9 months ago

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This is the Mitsubishi Diatone D160, the largest subwoofer ever built. 60 inches across and weighing 800kg, it can easily shatter windows and produces small earthquakes that can be felt like ground vibrations within a 2-kilometer range.

At the Koriyama factory, the test was conducted at first in the measuring room, but was stopped because the ceiling lamps fell due to vibration.

The outdoor test appeared to have a negative impact on the neighborhood. Within a 2-kilometer radius of the factory, damage from small earthquakes occurred.

Despite its impressive earthshaking performance, the Mitsubishi Diatone D160 faced several challenges. Its enormous size and weight made it impractical for most home environments. Additionally, the cost of manufacturing and purchasing such a massive subwoofer was prohibitive for many consumers.

As a result, only a limited number of D160 units were produced, making it a rare and sought-after collector's item today.

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breaking-noose · 8 months ago

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This is the Mitsubishi Dialtone D160, the largest subwoofer ever built, with 60 inches in the 1980s. Weighing 800kg, it can easily shatter windows and produces small earthquakes that can be felt like ground vibrations within a 2-kilometer range.

At the Koriyama factory, the test was conducted at first in the measuring room, but was stopped because the ceiling lamps fell due to vibration.

The outdoor test appeared to have a negative impact on the neighborhood. At a distance of about 100 m from the speaker, the sound was felt, but at a greater distance, it was transmitted as vibration and noise on the earth instead of an audible sound. Within a 2-kilometer radius of the factory, damage such as vibrations, small earthquakes, as well as noises from walls and windows occurred.

#subwoofer #sub woofer #audio #synth #bass #d160 #sound #audio engineering #stereo #japanese design

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sirfrogsworth · 2 years ago

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Someone was having trouble getting decent sound in his living room and instead of recommending a room treatment or better speakers this person just casually suggests PUTTING AN ADDITION ONTO THE HOUSE.

Trying to get advice on audio forums is often a challenge because a lot of these dudes just have *so much* disposable income. And they just assume everyone else is wealthy too. You can even tell them you have a budget and they'll be like, "You should save up longer and buy this thing that is three times your budget."

And it's not like there aren't wonderful options that are more affordable. I think I may have about $3000 worth of home theater equipment that I have collected over the last 20 years. They will spend that on a single speaker and suggest you do the same.

The people in these forums would have a fit if they knew I had a single subwoofer. Apparently, the cardinal audio sin is having only ONE subwoofer.

Your room could have NULLS!

NULLLLLLS!!!

Seriously, they will lecture you anytime you mention having a single subwoofer. "Your seat-to-seat response is going to be inconsistent!"

I also saw a guy say that a 15" subwoofer was "tiny" and "pointless."

My 70-pound, 12" subwoofer is currently vibrating items off the shelf in my house ever since I moved it upstairs and don't have concrete floors like in the basement. I'm going to have to buy special subwoofer feet to decouple it from the floor. I can't imagine what a 15" sub would do to my house. It might collapse on top of me.

So you can only get a sub that is at least 18" and you need a minimum of 2... but 4 is much better. Actually, 4 is the minimum. 2 is garbage. 2 in front and 2 in back.

And, of course, you have to get a Rythmik or PSA subwoofer. Don't cheap out on the brand!

You have to build an addition to the house AND buy $8000 worth of subwoofers and then MAYBE your sound will be somewhat listenable.

But only if you calibrate the subs with a MiniDSP and the proper UMIK calibration microphone.

Wait, do you have a regular AVR with built in amplification? That won't do. What you need is an audio processor with individual external amplification.

You'll need a 9.4.6 configuration for the proper surround sound experience. That is 9 ear-level speakers, 4 subwoofers, and 6 atmos ceiling speakers.

So 2 of these.

1 of these.

3 pairs of these.

6 of these... plus professional ceiling installation.

And an individual amplifier for each speaker.

Do you really need a 600 watt amp for the ceiling speakers too?

OF COURSE YOU DO!

DO YOU WANT A LOW NOISE FLOOR AND NO DISTORTION OR DO YOU WANT GARBAGE?

Comfort is important too. So you'll want a Valencia leather power recliner with LED cup holder.

And... by far... the most important home theater component...

The power cable.

This will assure that only the highest quality electrons are delivered to your audio equipment.

Don't think about it too much.

Don't think about all of the janky powerlines that deliver electricity to your house.

Or all of the generic power cables inside your wall.

This cable magically negates all of that and turns the last few feet of electricity into pure, audio-grade power.

Guaranteed to drastically improve your sound quality... somehow.

It can't be nonsense, otherwise someone would have never written such beautiful prose about a power cable in a review...

"I was smitten by the piano’s extra depth in its nether regions. I’m not talking about what some audiophiles like to refer to as testicular bass, but rather, a rich and absorbing presentation."

$14,000 for rich and absorbing testicular bass? WORTH IT!

So that's roughly $65,870 for all of that and between $50,000 and $100,000 for a 500 square foot room addition.

A small price to pay for a room that is not junk for listening to music.

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sekhisadventures · 1 month ago

Text

Fighting the Boss

It had been quite the battle. As soon as they had breached the shutters the Gallajio’s automated defenses had burst into life, forcing both Alliance and Horde into retreat to the Incontinental Hotel.

Grimo and the rest of Savage United had rallied as many members of the Horde to their side as they could and, after some tense negotiations helped by Nelen and the members of Avalon, they had reached an agreement with those of the Alliance present in the Undermine.

The grounds of the Gallajio were unassailable now and, if the noise was to be believed, Galliwix’s lieutenants had emerged and held strategic points around the Undermine. The situation had changed. The members of the Alliance would stand guard at Slam Central Station, the only exit from the Undermine to anywhere else in Azeroth and ensure that the Darkfuse Cartel wouldn’t escape.

Meanwhile, the warriors of the Horde would move in and cut a swathe through to the Gallajio, find an alternative entrance, and dethrone Gallywix by any means necessary.

Just over two dozen members of the Horde fought through the war zone the Undermine had become, facing down whatever threats came their way… and after several very intense battles, they made their way to the Gallajio and forced their way inside.

Finally, however, the end was drawing near…

Deep Within The Gallajio

“FOR THE HORDE!” roared a tauren bull, wielding a massive hammer as he raced towards an oncoming mech inside the casino, slamming his weapon home with a loud crack and a buzz of broken and frayed electronics.

“LOK’TAR OGAR!” added Galdia as she charged in next to him, her own shield smashing into the face of a hobgoblin as her sword was thrust into the hulking man’s ribcage to pierce his lung.

Behind them were the rest of the group, along with the other members of Savage United. Grimo cocked his rifle, taking careful aim, and with a loud BANG the driver of the shredder bot jerked suddenly, then slumped over the controls as the machine fell silent, blood leaking from a bullet wound in his forehead onto the control panel.

Grimo nodded in satisfaction and reloaded his gun, glancing back to the others. “We gotta be gettin’ close now. Ya ready?” he asked.

Most of the others nodded, but Nitika glanced behind her and then back at Grimo. “Um… maybe one of us should escort Sekhi back out? She got really shook up by that one fight…” she muttered.

Grimo shook his head, “Sorry Nitts, but we need everyone we can get. Sekhi’s been through worse ‘n this ‘n besides… she was th’ one who took that guy down!” he pointed out.

Nitika frowned, looking back at the shamaness again…

About an hour ago, outside the Gallajio

The warriors of the Horde ran along the pavement into a path near the cavern walls, fighting their way towards what looked like a massive stage. All around them were speakers playing loud music with goblins stumbling around, the sound seeming to affect their minds. They quickly dispatched the guards, then gathered together as a loud record-scratch sound echoed.

“HEY HEY! WHO’S MESSIN’ WITH TH’ ACOUSTICS!?” demanded a voice from all the sound devices in the area.

Swooping down from above was a goblin in a gaudy outfit wearing sunglasses with more rhinestones than frames on them in the strangest flying machine that most of them had ever seen. It was a goblin flyer, a big round cockpit with twin jets on either side to keep it airborne… but these jets had huge subwoofers built into them facing forward from the machine, and the controls were as much a DJ’s mix table as they were for steering.

Grimo winced and held a hand over one ear, the other still holding his rifle. “Fuckin’ FEL! That’ll clean th’ earwax out… whats this guy’s deal?!” he shouted over the din as the music continued.

Mola’raum frowned, his own undead eardrums feeling the pressure as much as the living ones. “Fooked if I know mon! Lets take ‘im out ‘n keep goin’!” he nodded.

The goblin in the machine laughed at them, “Ya think ya can get past me?! You ain’t got th’ rhythm or th’ style…” he smirked and his fingers danced along the turntable as another record scratch came out of the speakers, “Now you’re gonna get schooled by R-R-R-RIK REVERB! START TH’ MUSIC!” he called out.

At once several more speakers were dropped into the arena by a set of flying claws, and out of them came… well… at normal volume it would be considered music, but at this decibel level it could be used for mining holes in a mountain!

The sound hit the members of the Horde like a physical force, knocking them off their feet as Rik laughed and tweaked the controls on his machine, the sounds pulsing and changing to keep his foes off balance.

“GAH! MY HEAD! I’M GONNA BREAK YOUR FUCKIN’ FACE!” roared Galdia in fury as she got to her feet and charged towards him, leaping to try to reach the flying machine.

Nitika shook her head, trying to focus to channel An’she’s power to heal the damage that the sounds were causing. A few of their allies were already unconscious with blood trickling out of their ears!

Nitika saw that, and her eyes widened as she remembered one of her own teammates who had very sensitive hearing. “Oh no… Sekhi! Are you okay?!” she yelled over the cacophony… then suddenly a bolt of lightning shot past her!

Rik Reverb looked up from his turntable just in time to see the lighting slam into the front of his vehicle, the flying machine sagging under a sudden new weight to it. When the light cleared Sekhi was standing there, her eyes wide and her ears flat against her head.

“HEY! AUDIENCE STAYS OFF THE STAGE TOOTS!” shouted the goblin as he raised a fist to shove her off.

Sekhi flicked her finger and Rik screamed as his hand suddenly erupted in flames, the vulpera’s face expressionless as she reached to her belt and pulled out a knife that was normally used for skinning game on the island…

Then everyone below heard screams as the flying machine rocked back and forth, the music going chaotic as two goblin hands frantically grabbed at the controls and a vulpera’s footpaws tried to keep balance on them as Sekhi dealt with the problem.

The Gallajio, present

Sekhi’s eyes were still stare-y. She had never heard sounds like that, she had never FELT sounds like that. It wasn’t as bad as the Maw had been, but it was non-stop and endlessly loud and drilled right into the shamaness’ sensitive ears.

She also still had some… well… the fur around her mouth was oddly colored. A dark red color.

“I had to make it stoooooop…” she hissed, her tail thrashing behind her.

Grimo nodded, “See, I want that.” he pointed to her, “I wanna point that at Jastor ‘n see what happens. If I’d known Sekhi had a berserker setting I’d have been tryin’ to weaponize it before we even got here.”

Nitika frowned at him, her eyes flicking to purple. She took out a notebook she used for her enchanting research, then wrote something down in it.

“Whatcha doin’?” asked Grimo.

“We’re in enemy territory so now isn’t the time, but I’m making a note to smack you across the face once we’re done.” growled Darkhoof.

Grimo winced, then the doors at the far end of the hallway crashed open as both Galdia and the tauren man slammed into them together! “DEAD END AHEAD! EVERYONE, THIS MAY BE IT!” called the tauren back to the rest of the group as the members of the Horde roared and raised their weapons, then ran to meet them. Along with them were four goblins as well. Gazlowe, Noggenfogger, Baron Relgavaz, and a young redheaded goblin woman named Grimala Fizzlecrank who, after the current leader had been dealt with, was going to take over and reform the Venture Company.

The team burst through into the room beyond, and a huge metal platform awaited them surrounded by machinery.

“Gallywix!” shouted Gazlowe. “It doesn't have to end here!”

“Oh save me the mush!” came Jastor’s voice from above them, amplified by a speaker. "The Horde made you soft!"

"Its not being soft! I'm offering you a way out!" retorted Gazlowe as he looked around, a grenade readied in one hand (he was trying to be the better man, but he wasn't an idiot.)

Then Gallywix's voice echoed loudly through the room, "You don't make the offers, I DO! Now watch and learn how a REAL goblin takes charge!"

There was a sudden roar of an engine and from above a huge machine swooped into view. It was a massive vehicle, a flying pod with two gatling guns built onto either side of it, designed to look like the leering face of Jastor Gallywix, complete with a mock cigar in its grinning mouth. On top of it was a chamber like a stylized top hat with a red tinted porthole on the front, and visible through it was the furious face of its pilot.

Inside the mech Jastor gripped the microphone with one hand and shouted into it, the machine’s jaw moving to mimic his speech as a speaker inside repeated his words loudly. “I’ve put up with your bullshit long enough Monte! I’m gonna take you all down, ‘n when I’m done I’m gonna put your heads on fuckin’ display in the lobby like HUNTING TROPHIES! NOBODY IS GONNA STOP ME! YA HEAR ME! NO. FUCKIN’. BODY!” he roared, then he slammed a button on the controls and the guns snapped up.

Grimo reacted immediately, “SCATTER!” shouted the goblin as the members of Savage United ran to the sides, the rest of the group following them as a loud whirring filled the air and bullets slammed down into the floor where they’d been, punching holes through it! Not just normal bullets either, every one of these shots was black blood enhanced, they ATE the metal!

Edwood grimaced as one almost hit his foot, the warlock stumbling back. “WATCH YER ARSES ALL OF YE! Those’re th’ same rounds they used ta kill Renzik!” he warned.

Grimo snarled and cocked his rifle, then took aim at Gallywix’s cockpit and unleashed a stream of bullets as his rifle switched to rapid fire mode. They didn’t even dent the glass, bouncing away with a loud pinging sound.

“Tch’…” grumbled the goblin, “‘course it’d be bulletproof.”

Gallywix’s laughter echoed through the pod’s ‘mouth’ as another salvo smacked down, Galdia and the tauren brave charging it and managing to slam their weapons into it, trying to find a weak point. The machine was huge, but heavy, it couldn’t hover very high off the ground!

The rest of the gathered adventurers did what they could as well, but the plating on it was the strongest Gallywix could have bought! Spells smashed into it and only scuffed the paint job, weapons rebounded with loud clangs, and all through it came Jastor’s mocking voice and the sound of the guns firing.

Grimo raised his rifle again, then swore and dove to the side as another stream of shots tore up the floor next to him. He heard a scream and looked up just in time to see a troll fall to the ground and crumble to dust and ashes. One of the black blood bullets had hit her in the stomach, and the Void-enhanced round had consumed her whole.

Grimo shuddered, then pulled his goggles down, “We gotta finish this fast…” he snarled, tapping a button on his gauntlet as the HUD on his goggles began to scan the machine. “C’mon… everything gotta have a weakness, right?!”

Then his goggles beeped, and the goblin grinned widely. “Gotcha… L.U.P.E!” he shouted, his robotic dog (he’d summoned it down from the Glittering Prize when they retreated to the Hotel,) let out a mechanical bark. “Time ta test those upgrades I gave ya before we went to th’ Siren Isle… ENGAGE SPOTTER MODE!” he commanded.

The robot dog slammed its feet down securely as its metal back popped open on a set of hinges, and a machine emerged out of it. It was a large, round, jet turbine! It began to vibrate as it started up, the rear turning from gray to cherry red… and then there was a WOOSH and the robot shot up into the air!

Nitika ducked as it shot over her, the tauren woman channeling her healing power into an orc who got winged by one of the bullets. Thankfully a graze wasn’t a fatal hit, but the black blood was akin to a virulent poison, and she’d been channeling An’she’s power to try to counter it. “What the fel did he do this time?!” she cringed, watching the robot dog fly through the arena.

Grimo had his gauntlet ready, the microphone on it connected to the L.U.P.E.’s electronic brain. “Alright L.U.P.E. FETCH!” he commanded, then pushed on the touch screen where he saw the weakness.

The robot let out an electronic bark and dove, its metal jaw opening wide, and it shot towards the pod’s mouth! With a clash of metal on metal it slammed home and there was a loud squealing sound as it tore at what it found, then the jet engine roared and it shot upwards, its prize clenched between its razor-sharp fangs!

A tirade of swearing came out of the speakers of Jastor’s machine as sparks erupted from the mouth, the guns suddenly firing wildly. “FUCK FUCK! WHO DID THAT?! I’M GONNA FILL YOU FULL O’ LEAD YA BASTARD!” he roared as the L.U.P.E. banked around and dropped its prize at Grimo’s feet.

It was the mock cigar from the mech’s mouth, which in truth was its targeting system! It had to have something to detect targets and the eyes were too obvious a spot, so it was hidden in the cigar!

“HAHA! How’s that for goblin ingenuity ya piece of shit!” retorted Grimo as he took aim at the gaping hole that the attack had left in the mech’s mouth.

Inside the mech Jastor snarled, then slammed another button, “Oh that’s just the openin’ act you little nobody! ROUND TWO!” he snapped, and there was a huge crash as something large landed on the far side of the platform.

Jastor’s pod quickly shot over to it and the jets roared almost as loudly as Rik Reverb’s music, the metal head rising up, then landing on a pair of metal shoulders… which were connected to a metal torso with sturdy metal legs and a pair of metal arms with huge cannons built into them! Jastor’s pod had become the head of a towering robotic battlesuit!

Grimo winced, “Oh fuck…” he whispered as he and the other adventurers scattered, the L.U.P.E. flying upwards again as the mech took aim with its weapons and opened fire!

“TAKE THIS! ‘N THIS! I’M GONNA KILL ALL OF YA!” shouted Gallywix into the microphone, spit flying onto the windshield on his mech as it stomped forwards, the cannons booming and launching huge blasts of black blood as they went.

Grimo tried to aim, but the mech was firing too rapidly! Any time he drew a bead on it he’d barely get off a shot before he had to flee another salvo. “FUCK! I can’t hold still long enough to shoot! He’s too fast!” he shouted.

“I believe I can assist there.” came a voice as he looked to his left.

Laurelgosa, already in her dracthyr form, was standing with her wings spread and her arms out, sand beginning to swirl around them. As Jastor’s weapons readied another round she shot up into the air and flew towards the mech, the power of the bronze dragonflight echoing through her body and seeming to leave afterimages of sand behind her as she drew near.

She took a breath, and then there was a loud roar as an eruption of sand came from her mouth, coating the mech from head to toe!

Jastor swore as he saw the dracthyr draw behind the range of his guns, the barrels unable to point at her this close, and then suddenly the mech began reading several malfunctions! The machine’s movements slowed to a snail’s pace! The guns couldn’t keep up with his targets!

“What the fuck was that?! WHAT’D YOU DO TO MY ROBOT?!” he demanded.

Sand drifted off the arms of Gallywix’s vehicle, the mech moving… but very very VERY slowly! The black blood protected it from being totally frozen, but Laurelgosa had slowed its timeline to the point where it could barely move at all!

“EVERYONE! THAT WILL NOT SLOW HIM FOR LONG! STRIKE NOW!” shouted the dracthyr as she flapped out of range as quickly as she could.

A roar went up from the assembled members of the Horde and, as one, they charged!

Mola’raum’s ghoul let out a guttural roar as it’s master channeled his power into the monster, it’s body swelling with necromantic energy into a twisted and horrific form as it body-slammed the left leg of the mech, gripping it firmly and weighing it down further as the tauren brave grabbed the other to hold it in place, the guns still trying to aim for the adventurers but unable to move fast enough to hit them!

Edwood raised his hands, along with an orc woman with glowing red eyes and a blood elf in purple robes with runes etched in fel green on them. Together they channeled a bolt of pure felfire, a massive one bigger than any Ed could have managed alone and threw it directly at the hole where the mock cigar had been! There was a titanic eruption of felfire and the lower jaw of the mech was blown apart!

“HAH! Felt that one eh?” laughed Ed, “SEKHI! READY YER CANNONS ‘N OPEN FIRE!” he called out.

Sekhi nodded, her head still pounding from Rik Reverb’s abuse of the very concept of sound as she raised her flute and began to play a rapid piping tune. Next to her an orcish man in a cape made from a bear’s hide, a darkspear troll wielding a wooden stave decorated with crystals, and a goblin man wearing robes with a necklace of gears painted blue, white, red, and green joined her. A moment later a bolt of lightning that would have made Raszageth sit up and take notice struck the mech’s ruined face and the speaker squealed loudly as sparks flew from the machine, soon replaced with Gallywix’s cursing.

“DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT! STOP DOING THAT! I’M GONNA KILL YA! I’LL STRANGLE YA WITH MY BARE FUCKIN’ HANDS! I’LL BEAT YA TO DEATH WITH MY CANE! NONE OF YOU FUCKERS ARE GETTING’ OUTTA HERE ALIVE!” shouted the trade prince amid other, less coherent cursing and threats as the control panel and displays inside the mech began to flash warning lights and reports of damage sustained.

Then Nitika stepped forward. With her were a sin’dorei woman in robes of resplendent gold and white and a vulpera man in robes of sandy brown stitched with symbols of foxes amid the sands of their homeland.

“Together!” she nodded as they raised their hands, then focused them on the damaged machine.

“ANDU FALAH’DOR!” called out the blood elf as a blast of light erupted from her fingertips, the power of the Sunwell coursing through he even this far from Quel’thalas.

“BY THE DUNES!” cried the vulpera as a stream of what appeared to be golden motes of sand swirled from her hand, shooting towards the mech like a concentrated dust storm made of light!

“AN’SHE! I CALL UPON YOUR MIGHTY RADIANCE!” shouted Nitika, raising her stave and pointing the eagle head towards Gallywix’s mech, and a blast of sunlight shot forth to join the others.

The blessed powers, each a reflection of what they held as holy, shot towards the mech and into its damaged recesses, right into the fuel tank of black blood deep within! The trio kept up the attack as long as they could as, inside, smoke erupted from the controls of the mech as Gallywix flailed his arms, coughing frantically!

The black blood was created by the Void, and the quantity left in the fuel tank after how much he’d already consumed couldn’t withstand the blessed power! The starcursed liquid boiled and roiled as the divine spells blasted into the canister, and finally it ruptured and cracked open, the vile fluid spraying out the sides of the mech as those nearby ran for cover!

“Alert! Black blood fuel compromised! Auto-eject activated!” shouted a mechanical voice inside the cockpit.

“NO! ABORT DAMMIT! I CAN STILL WIN THIS! I-…” protested Gallywix as the top of the top hat popped open and the chair inside shot upwards, launching the podgy trade prince into the air. Gallywix flailed his arms as he fell, then landed behind the machine with a loud thud and a louder curse.

The goblin scrambled to his feet, ignoring the members of the Horde present in his frustration and fury, and turned on the machine. “WORTHLESS HUNK OF JUNK!” he snapped, stomping to one of the legs and kicking at it repeatedly.

Gazlowe stepped forward, ready to insist on Gallwix’s surrender… then he saw the mech begin to shake. One of its legs had been damaged, bent by the strength of the tauren brave, and it was losing its balance! “Hey…” began Gazlowe, realizing what was happening, “Hold on!”

Jastor ignored him, stomping forward and glaring daggers at Gazlowe, “Its not over ‘till I say it’s over!” he snarled, kicking at the machine again. “AND I.” he kicked it harder, “ALWAYS!” he lifted his leg and slammed his entire foot into the mech’s metal limb. “WIN!”

There was a loud creaking sound, and the mech wobbled as Gazlowe started to run forward, “LOOK OUT!” he shouted.

It was too late however, the mech tottered, then tipped backwards as Jastor looked up, “Huh?” he gasped, then he screamed wordlessly as the mech fell backwards and several tons of metal and electronics landed on him with enough force to shake the entire platform, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and smoke from the broken electronics inside it as Gazlowe, the other goblin cartel leaders, and the members of the Horde took cover and shielded themselves from the billowing fumes and debris.

When the dust cleared Gazlowe looked out to see the mech laying on it’s back… and a single arm sticking out from under it in a slowly widening pool of blood. The weight of the machine had crushed Jastor’s body, killing him.

Gazlowe sighed deeply, this wasn’t how he’d wanted it to go. He wanted Jastor to answer for his crimes, to face the reality of what he’d done, to have to finally admit for once that he’d gone too far… but… the important thing was that it was over. “… lets get outta here.” he nodded.

The Incontinental Hotel, the Following Day

It was a victory celebration, but it was a low key one by goblin standards (still rowdy by most standards though.) The Undermine had suffered greatly under Gallywix, and many goblins had lost friends and family during the riot. The survivors of the Darkfuse Cartel had vanished, though Gazlowe had his men keeping an eye out for them.

In the basement of the continental hotel the members of Avalon and Savage United were seated together around their table, once more a pair of smaller tables pushed together to accommodate them all, and talking about what they’d found out.

The main question on all their minds however… it had become clear given Xal’atath’s abandonment of Gallywix that the ethereals were not working with her. The harbinger had lost the power of the dark heart… but now it was in the hands of an unknown quantity.

The ethereals were enigmatic beings, the survivors of the world of K’aresh which had been devoured by the Void Lord Dimensius, one of the most powerful entities in all realities. At times the ethereals had been both friend and foe to the people of Azeroth, which begged the question…

Why did they claim the Dark Heart?

What were they going to do with it?

Were the ethereals potential allies, or were they a new threat to Azeroth?

As the party wore on Nelen stepped outside of the hotel, needing to get some fresh… well, fresh-er air. He looked around the city, seeing goblin work crews scurrying back and forth, taking in reports, assessing damage, working on minor repairs that could be done quickly as preparations were made for bigger ones. If nothing else the goblins knew how to rebuild things, though with the way their engineering and science worked they’d have to.

As he stood there, he became aware of the smell of burning socks, then looked over to see Grimo walking up next to him. “Well, that’s done. Been wanting to put a fuckin’ bullet in Gallywix since th’ Cataclysm.” he grunted, a cigar sticking out of his mouth.

Nelen nodded, “Satisfied?” he asked the goblin.

Grimo chuckled, “Eh… yeah I guess. Be better if we got th’ Dark Heart back too but… eh, I’ll take it.” he sighed, taking the cigar out and holding it between two fingers as he shook his head, his other hand resting on his belt with his thumb hooked into it.

Nelen sighed, nodding, the magus’s hands folded behind his back. “Mm… quite. Ethereals though. I hadn’t been aware they were even interested in what was going on in Khaz Algar. This could get problematic soon…” he replied.

“I heard some of our boys ran into one back in Azj-kahet. Some ‘Nexus-Princess’ chick… at least, I think it was a chick. Dunno if ethereals even got gender-y bits anymore.” replied Grimo, taking another pull of his cigar.

Nelen nodded, “Hm… well, all we can do is wait and see Grimo. Until the ethereals make their intentions known, we can’t act.” he sighed. “Perhaps Khadgar or Alleria could offer some insight…”

Grimo shrugged, “Eh, we’ll find out when it starts to stink Fullmoon.” he smirked, then took a deep pull of his cigar and exhaled a huge cloud of acrid smoke.

Nelen coughed and waved his hand infront of his face to push the fumes away, “… indeed.” he smirked a bit.

Across the street, a pair of eyes watched them.

Seated there, next to a lamp post was a cat with jet black fur and shining green eyes. It narrowed its eyes, its ears flicking as if it could pick up what they were saying, then it stretched and ran off into the Undermine.

It passed by some buildings, next to a trash can, paused as a goblin car thundered across the street ahead of it, then its ears perked up as it heard voices nearby.

“… said she’ll meet us when we signal her. We should focus on finding a new base first while they clear out the hideout here. We don’t want to leave anything they can use behind, don’t want a repeat of what almost happened with his horn, do we?” came a masculine goblin’s voice, a rather cultured one for a resident of the Undermine.

“Too right we don’t…” growled another voice. A woman’s voice, a goblin woman. “Just gotta wait until… oho, speak o’ th’ demon…”

The cat emerged and walked towards a pair of goblins. One of them was dressed in a black silk shirt with red suit pants and jacket, a pair of polished black shoes on his feet and black hair tied in a ponytail.

The other was a female goblin, wearing a silvery grey silken gown under a cloak. She had purple hair hanging loose around her face with a small ponytail. Her eyes were also a deep crimson. It wasn’t unheard of for goblins to have red eyes, but that shade almost made them look like they could glow in the dark.

The cat walked towards the woman and leapt up onto her shoulder. “They know?” she asked, glancing to it.

The cat shook its head, and the goblin smirked in response.

“Perfect… well, lets head up then.” she nodded to the goblin man as she looked back towards the Incontinental Hotel. Both she and her companion shared a grin… as did the cat. A wide grin, too wide, unnaturally so with long sharp teeth filling its mouth. Then the two goblins turned and, with their feline companion, walked towards Slam Central Station, vanishing into the crowd. Just another pair of goblins in the Undermine, nobody even gave them a second glance.

#warcraft #warcraft fanfiction #adventures in azeroth #world of warcraft #the war within

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digitaldetoxworld · 4 months ago

Text

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Versatility: Soundbars can be used for extra than simply TV audio; they are remarkable for streaming track, gaming, and even arms-free calls, depending at the model.

Factors to Consider When Choosing a Soundbar

Selecting the right soundbar involves thinking about several elements to make certain it meets your desires and preferences:

Audio Quality: Pay attention to the soundbar's specs, which include the wide variety of channels, wattage, and frequency range. Listening to a demo, if feasible, also can assist.

Room Size and Layout: Choose a soundbar that fits the dimensions of your room. For larger rooms, don't forget fashions with outside subwoofers or additional speakers.

Compatibility: Ensure the soundbar is like minded along with your TV and different gadgets. Look for features like HDMI ARC or eARC for seamless integration.

Connectivity Options: Consider your selected connection technique, whether it's Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, or bodily cables.

Features and Functionality: Determine which functions are most critical to you, consisting of digital surround sound, voice assistants, or Dolby Atmos aid.

Budget: Set a budget and examine models inside your rate range. While top rate soundbars provide superior functions, there are tremendous mid-variety and budget alternatives available.

Setting Up Your Soundbar

Setting up a soundbar is usually quick and easy. Here are a few popular steps to follow:

Position the Soundbar: Place the soundbar without delay underneath or above your TV for most beneficial audio alignment. If mounting it on a wall, make sure it is at ear level.

Connect to Your TV: Use the preferred connection technique, inclusive of HDMI ARC, optical cable, or Bluetooth. Follow the manufacturer’s instructions for setup.

Adjust Settings: Access the soundbar’s settings to customise the audio profile. Experiment with presets or EQ adjustments to find the satisfactory sound in your space.

Test the Audio: Play distinctive styles of content to ensure the soundbar can provide steady overall performance across films, track, and TV indicates.

Maintenance and Troubleshooting

To preserve your soundbar acting optimally, observe these renovation guidelines:

Keep it Clean: Dust the soundbar regularly to prevent dust buildup, that may affect sound first-rate.

Update Firmware: Check for firmware updates from the producer to make sure your soundbar has the today's capabilities and fixes.

Check Connections: Periodically investigate cables and connections to make certain they're stable and functioning properly.

Troubleshoot Issues: If you enjoy problems like audio lag or connectivity troubles, seek advice from the person guide or searching for support from the manufacturer.

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