#Car Kalashnikov

[weedshop2020-blog]

#9MM 🤝💯 #Glock #beretta #revolver #Ak-47 #M16 .... #guns #quebec #usa #minneapolis

WhatsApp:+1(873)664-5912

[girlactionfigure]

naz_hashem

On May 2, 2004, Tali Hatuel was traveling with her four daughters-Hila (11), Hadar (9), Roni (7), and Meirav (2) to Ashkelon. While driving between the Mor Bridge and the Kissufim Route, two terrorists, Ibrahim Hamad of Islamic Jihad and Faisal Abu Majra of Fatah, ambushed her car from nearby residential buildings in Khan Yunis. The attackers, armed with Kalashnikov rifles, forced the car off the road. Tali, eight months pregnant, was seriously injured in the initial attack. The terrorists then approached the vehicle and fired at point-blank range, killing Tali and her daughters. IDF forces arrived at the scene and neutralized the attackers. This tragedy reminds us: it didn’t start on October 7th. It was never about land but solely about eliminating the JEWISH people.  Flash news. We are NOT going anywhere.  May their memory be a forever blessing.  God bless Israel. Am Yisrael chai.  🇮🇱🇮🇱🇮🇱

[contentloadingandstuff]

Chat what am I looking at right now? A giant floating gun? (Obviously my opinion)

And according to leaked images, Mauvika is supposed to have a literal motorcycle. Sure, Hoyo. So how about we just give Citlali a Kalashnikov and do away with this whole "fantasy" nonsense? This makes for so many inconsistencies in the technological levels of the seven nations that the whole worldbuilding starts to look like a poor man's game of Civilisation. I really don't dig this new update, and neither do I like the direction the worldbuilding is heading. So what, are we going to have flying cars and traffic lights in Snezhnaya? Meanwhile in Mondstadt, Liyue and Inazuma people are still using carts, horses, swords and bows. I swear. If this continues, in time, I might just stop liking the game. It starts to get on my nerves, the approach Hoyo has taken.

[viktorviolettaenterprises]

Avtomat Kalashnikova's Rifle Series

Part 1: 7,62 x39 (Soviet M43)

DOWNLOAD🔽

Information

Right after World War II ended, the Red Army began searching for a new service rifle. They sought a rifle that would fire a cartridge based on the M43—a shortened version of the 7.62 x 54mm round, which became the 7.62 x 39mm. This new round was chosen for its moderate recoil and suitability for automatic fire. Initially, the semi-automatic Simonov SKS was selected as an interim solution while the search continued.

In 1946, Mikhail Kalashnikov entered his design into a competition alongside others. However, the Central Committee was not satisfied with the initial results, and all contestants were required to make improvements. A year later, Kalashnikov returned with a modified version, which he named the "Avtomat Kalashnikova model 47." Tests showed that Kalashnikov's design met all the Central Committee's requirements. Ultimately, his design was standardized as the Red Army's main service rifle, simply named the "AK" or "Avtomat Kalashnikov."

🇷🇺Original Releases🇷🇺

The rifle that started it all—the AK-47—is Mother Russia’s proudest gift to the world, born from the genius of Mikhail Kalashnikov. This section details the original AK model produced by the Soviet Union and it's Successcor States, Russian Federation, mark the beginning of an iconic rifle series

AK-47 (Avtomat Kalashnikova 1947)

Of all the weapons in the vast Soviet arsenal, nothing was more The One that Started all. nothing is more profitable than Avtomat Kalashnikova model of 1947, more commonly known as the AK-47, or Kalashnikov. It's the world's most popular assault rifle. A weapon all fighters love. An elegantly simple 9 pound amalgamation of forged steel and plywood. It doesn't break, jam, or overheat. It will shoot whether it's covered in mud or filled with sand. It's so easy, even a child can use it; and they do. The Soviets put the gun on a coin. Mozambique put it on their flag. Since the end of the Cold War, the Kalashnikov has become the Russian people's greatest export. After that comes vodka, caviar, and suicidal novelists. One thing is for sure, no one was lining up to buy their cars.

This Particular Model is first adoption of the AK family by the Red Army in 1949 & Contray to Popular Believe This Type Of Rifle Along With It's Folded Stock Variant Are So Rare and inteded as Red Army Trial Model. It got short service lenght in the Advent Of AKM.

AKS-47 (Avtomat Kalashnikova Skladnoy Model 1947)

Later versions of the original AK-47 are basically standard AK-47s but with a downward-folding metal stock (like the one on the German MP40 submachine gun). This design makes it easier to use in cramped spaces, like inside BMP infantry combat vehicles, and for paratroopers use. It was adopted for use by the Soviet military.

AKM (Avtomat Kalashnikova modernizirovanny)

The AKM is a improved & modernized variant of the AK-47 and was produced in much larger numbers. The most notable difference is that the AKM has a stamped receiver, making it lighter and less costly to produce, a slant compensator on the tip of the barrel (to reduce recoil) & an improved gas tube to ensuring Reliability. The Most Obiquotous AK Variant In Market.

AKMS (S – Skladnoy – Folding), A Variant Of AKMS which was equipped with an under-folding metal shoulder stock. The metal stock of the AKMS is somewhat different from the folding stock of the previous AKS-47 model as it has a modified locking mechanism, which locks both support arms of the AKMS stock instead of just one (left arm) as in the AKS-47 folding model. Like The perk From it's Main Rifle. This Variant Also Featuring More Lighter, Cheaper to Produce and better Recoil Management

AK-103/ Kastov 762

Note:Some of You young folks might knowed this gun from New Call of Duty LOL

The Trend of Weapon Modernization of 21st Century Finally Fall into Kalashnikov's Ear And AK 103 is the Answer for that. The AK-103 is a newer version of the AK-47. It still uses the same 7.62×39mm ammo but comes with some upgrades like a more comfortable synthetic stock and better materials like it's 5.45 Version brother. It’s designed to be more accurate and reliable, making it a solid choice for military and law enforcement use. Overall, it’s a tough like What you expect from Kalashnikov Rifle, modern rifle that handles well in different situations.

AK-104

A Russian Modern Answer to M4 Carbine. The AK-104 is a modernized version of the AK-47, designed to compete with the American M4. Chambered in 7.62×39mm, it’s more compact and features a folding stock, making it easier to handle in tight spaces. The AK-104 incorporates updated materials and design elements to stay relevant in today's weapon trends. Kalashnikov's ability to adapt and innovate has kept the AK series influential and trendy, maintaining its status as a leading choice in firearms across the globe.

☭Warsaw Pacts Derivatives & Foreign Copies☭

Due to the popularity of the Kalashnikov rifle and the heightened Cold War marked by the foundation of the Warsaw Pact (Soviet's defense pact to match Western NATO), many communist-aligned nations started copied Kalashnikov designs, both legally and illegally. The following section covers the foreign derivatives of the legendary Kalashnikov!

🇭🇺FEG AMD-65 (Automata Módosított Deszantfegyver 1965)🇭🇺

Another Masterpiece from Hungarian Factory Fegyver- és Gépgyártó Részvénytársaság. Popular Amongst Afghanistan National Army (Afghan's Army during occupation of United states of America, Until the fall of Afghanistan in 2021) is a modified compact version of the AKM-63 made for use by specialist troops like paratroopers and vehicle crews. The AMD-65 featured a shorter barrel, a muzzle brake, and an Iconic side folding stock.

The AMD-65 is the most famous variant of the Hungarian AKs, due to its distinctive appearance and more widespread availability in the United States compared to other variants.

🇵🇱FB RADOM Wz. 96 Beryl M762🇵🇱

representing Poland's efforts to develop modernized indigenous 5.45x39mm and 5.56x45mm Kalashnikov Rifle in response to late Cold War Warsaw Pact and NATO cartridge standardizations. This particular Model is is an export version of the kbs Wz. 96C chambered in 7.62x39mm. It is most notably used by Nigeria. and Mostly Popular Amongst "PlayerUnknown's Battlegrounds" Gamers or PUBG.

🇷🇴Pistol Mitralieră model 1963/1965🇷🇴

PM md. 63 (Romanian: Pistol Mitralieră model 1963; lit. "model 1963 submachine gun") is the Romanian military designation of Romanian manufactured clones of the Soviet AKM. Produced at the Cugir Arms Factory (today a subsidiary of ROMARM), early Romanian Kalashnikov rifles were almost indistinguishable from Soviet AKMs, but a number of Romanian domestic features were introduced in later production models, making them more and more distinct from Soviet Kalashnikovs. it is better known under the export name of AIM.

PM md. 65 The PM md. 65 is the Romanian clone of the AKMS. As with the md. 63, the rifle features a foregrip integrated into the handguard; in order to accommodate the underfolding stock, however, the foregrip of the PM md. 65 notably slants backwards. The rifle is exported to the west under the export name AIMS.

The Mini Draco (imported by Century Arms) is an ultra-short export variant of the Romanian AK featuring a 7.75" barrel. intended For US Civilians. Straight From Grand Theft Auto V

🇫🇮SAKO/Valmet Assault Rifle Series🇫🇮

The Finnish firearms manufacturer Valmet built assault rifles, in co-operation with Sako, based in part on the Kalashnikov action in the early 1960s, and continued to manufacture them up until 1994. Valmet later merged into Sako (in the late 1980s), and the some of their designs are currently being manufactured.

The model M62 (known as Rk 62 in Finland) was adopted by the Finnish Defence Forces, and still serves as the standard infantry weapon of the Finnish Army.The M62 has an unusual T-shaped tubular buttstock, compared to other Kalashinkov pattern rifles. The gas block and front sight design is very similar to the Israeli Galil rifle, as the Galil was designed based on the Valmet.

The RK 95 TP (known commercially as M95) is an upgraded variant of the M62, designed and manufactured by Sako. It has a folding stock, and can be fitted with suppressors. It was adopted into service by the Finnish Army, although in relatively small numbers, and it is still used by Finnish Special Forces. An export variant in 5.56mm was also produced in extremely limited numbers.

��🇳Norinco Type 56🇨🇳

The Type 56 assault rifle is the Chinese clone of the Soviet AK-47 rifle. It was China's service rifle from 1956 to the adoption of the QBZ-95 in around 1997. The Type 56 is the most commonly used AK variant in American film and television productions. This came about because China exported civilian AK variants (both Type 56 patterened and less commonly Soviet AK patterened) to the West in large numbers during the 1980s, primarily by the export companies Norinco

QBZ-56C (Type 56C) – Short-barrel version, introduced in 1991 for the domestic and export market. The QBZ-56C as it is officially designated in China, is a carbine variant of the Type 56-2 and supplied in limited quantities to some PLA units. The Chinese Navy is now the most prominent user. The QBZ-56C is often carried with a twenty-round box magazine, although it is capable of accepting a standard Type 56 thirty-round magazine. It also has a sidefolding stock in addition to a muzzle booster, giving it a similar appearance to the AKS-74U.

Type 56-2 – Improved variant introduced in 1980, with a side-folding stock and dark orange bakelite furniture. The stock also houses a cleaning kit, which both underfolding AKs (all nations) and other sidefolding AKs lacked, instead requiring a separate pouch. It also allows a traditional detachable bayonet, both AK-47 and AKM styles, as an option in addition to the folding spike style. Mainly manufactured for export and rare in China.

Type 56-2M - Basically Norinco Type 56-2 fitted with an aftermarket LHV-47 handguard and ergonomic pistol grip. Perfect for Customization. Model Straight From Grand Theft Auto V

💀Special Role And Novelty Items🤡

This Section will Covering Some Specialized Roles of Kalashnikov Rifle And some just a novelty Items of it which is specifically designed to serve no practical purpose, and is sold for its uniqueness

RPK-47

The Light Machine Gun Version of Legendary Kalashnikov's Assault Rifle. Featuring A Heavier Barrel for supporting Sustained fire, Bipod To enhance stability and accuracy during sustained fire, the RPK includes a bipod. This feature allows the operator to stabilize the weapon while firing from a prone or kneeling position, which is crucial for maintaining accuracy and control in a support role. along with the RPK often features a sturdier stock, which helps manage recoil and enhance overall stability while firing. this particular Version is Using 7.62X39mm

Golden AK Series

Note:Special Thanks For @bluexxxxx For magnificent Watergun Pose in Second Picture.

Alright, picture this: the iconic AK-47, but with a dazzling twist. That’s the Golden AK Series for you! Imagine the legendary Kalashnikov rifle decked out in a sleek, gold finish that screams both style and power. These rifles aren’t just about looking cool (though, let’s be honest, they definitely do). They’re also built with all the rugged reliability and firepower you expect from an The Cold War champion. So, if you want a rifle that combines legendary performance with a touch of glamour, the Golden AK Series is where it’s at. It’s not just a tool; it’s a statement.

@exzentra @exzentra-reblog

[eretzyisrael]

By Hamza Howidy

I was born in Gaza Strip in the late 1990s, one of six children. At the time, the Palestinian Authority was the ruling party. My father, like most people in Gaza, was sick of the PA's corruption and was waiting for any alternative. Hamas promised "change and reform" and they won the Palestinian Legislative Council elections in 2006. One year later, I awoke to the sound of gunfire. Hamas gunmen were fighting Fatah, and they ended up killing of more than 600 Palestinians. It became clear very quickly that Hamas was not the "change and reform" that we hoped for.

To silence dissent, Hamas terrorized the citizens of Gaza. On the way to the Dar-Alarqam school I attended in the al-Shujaiya neighborhood near the Israeli border, a group of masked men carrying Kalashnikovs would check each car. At the end of the year, masked men opened offices in our school to promote Hamas's military camps and register students.

I graduated and began my studies at the Islamic University of Gaza, along with future Hamas leaders and current members. All art classes were replaced with radical Islamic teachings, and the elections of the student councils and clubs were only open to Hamas members, who hoarded all the privileges and distributed all the grants between themselves.

Voicing dissent was not an option. Hamas has a no tolerance policy for criticism or objections to any of its policies. Even discussion is forbidden Any journalist who objects or criticizes a policy is suspended and investigated. Demonstrations are strictly prohibited. Freedom of speech in Gaza is a fantasy. The dirtiest tool Hamas uses to silence citizens is character assassination through online campaigns accusing dissenters of working for hostile bodies or committing immoral acts. Hamas also routinely breaks into the homes of people deemed disloyal and humiliates them in front of their family and neighbors.

I observed all this with growing horror as a student. And as Hamas's oppression of the Palestinian citizens of Gaza increased, the quality of life deteriorated. Hamas's aggression toward Israel resulted in fewer and fewer job permits and limits on the electricity in Gaza, which we only got for eight hours a day. The economy cratered. Social and economic conditions collapsed.

[beardedmrbean]

While other factions still control significant parts of Syria – including the Turkish-backed Syrian National Army (SNA), HTS’s ally in the latest offensive, and the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) – HTS has achieved a stunningly rapid military victory. In just ten days, the Islamist group toppled the Assad regime and seized control of most of Syria’s major cities.

This sudden consolidation of power has sparked widespread alarm, particularly among Syria’s minority communities. The country’s mosaic of ethnic and religious groups – including Shia Alawites, Christians, and Kurds – now finds itself under the rule of a group with a deeply controversial history. HTS, which remains on the terror lists of the United States and the European Union, has also provided shelter to international jihadists from Afghanistan, Chechnya, and France. For many minorities, the notion of such a group ruling from Damascus evokes fear and uncertainty about what lies ahead.

Since its creation in 2017, HTS has attempted to rebrand itself as a more moderate force, demonstrating a degree of tolerance towards certain minorities, particularly Christians, in the areas it controls, compared with the al Qaeda-linked group it emerged from. Since assuming power in Damascus and much of Syria this month, the group has generally shown restraint in its treatment of Christian and Shiite Alawite monuments and communities.

In official announcements and meetings with local minority leaders, HTS has repeatedly pledged to safeguard the safety of Christians and Alawites. Jolani told CNN on December 5: “These sects have coexisted in this region for hundreds of years, and no one has the right to eliminate them.”

But reports and videos on Syrian social media show that reprisal killings have begun, casting doubt on HTS’s promises of protection. Members of the Alawite community appear to be the primary target. Despite representing only 10 percent of Syria’s population, Alawites dominated the country’s power structures for more than four decades under the Assad regime. Their close ties to Iran’s Shia regime – an unwavering backer of Bashar al-Assad – have further entrenched their vulnerability under HTS rule. 

Video shows execution of suspected regime 'Shabiha'

On December 10 a video emerged on Telegram documenting the execution of four men by HTS fighters. The video opens with two bodies visible, one man on his back, another man face down with his hands apparently bound. A voice is heard saying: “There they are, Shabiha pigs,” a reference to the Shabiha, pro-regime militias known for beating and killing political opponents of the Assad clan. Two men are visible on their knees. As one of the fighters asks their name, others are heard calling them “Nusayriyah”, an anti-Alawite slur, and “Allahu akbar.” Two of the fighters, one wearing the black Seal of Muhammad flag popular among Islamist groups, then open fire and kill the two men with bursts from their Kalashnikovs, as a third says: “Two pigs killed in the village of Rabia.” (There are at least two villages in Syria called Rabia, one in Latakia governorate, the other in Hama governorate. There were conflicting reports about which village was the site of the killing.)

FRANCE 24’s specialist on Islamist groups, Wassim Nasr, said the video was the first documented case of a summary execution by HTS fighters since the offensive began on November 27.

Other videos appearing to show reprisal attacks against suspected regime collaborators have also emerged. Two videos filmed in Idlib and posted on December 10 show a body being dragged behind a car as a crowd applauds.  The caption includes an apparent plea to the HTS leadership: “We demand the establishment of a state with a justice system. Shabiha thugs should be punished by the rule of law, not by actions like this. There is no difference between you and the Assad regime.”

Videos like this are adding to the fears of Syrian citizens about their future under HTS. The FRANCE 24 Observers team spoke to Syrians from the Alawite, Sunni and Christian communities.

[patriot2525]

I'm gussing Ruby has a lot of questions for Nikolay's Tesla pistol and the tech behind it.

At the weapon maintenance classroom were Beacon student Usually came here too learn how to better take care of their weapons and how they can improve them.

But Right now the entire classroom was empty, as As there was no one in need of fixing their weapons. So the Was almost empty, except for the only occupant that was in this classroom.

Nikolay Arkovsky, the Soviet Marshall with his ever cold demeanour. Was currently in the middle of maintaining his Tesla pistol that was laying on the desk disassembled.

Nikolay: *Currently Busy in cleaning some of the parts of his weapon, while feeling the gaze of a particular little red reaper that is watching him from the distance* If you want to see my pistol up close, you can simply come over here, instead of hiding like a small kid, Ruby. *Saying all of this while not taking his gaze off his disassembled weapon.*

Ruby: *"Eeepp" in Surprised it being found out, Before off her surprise, and then using her speed semblance to appear next to Nikolay, who’s gaze was still on the disassembled pistol* How did you know I was here?

Nikolay: If you can call, hiding behind the door while poking out your head so obvious to anyone to see, Then you did a very poor job at spying on me. *Ruby puffed up her cheeks in a childish way, from being told that she’s terrible in hiding. but her demeanour immediately change into curiosity when she sets her eyes upon the Tesla pistol, to which Nikolai noticed this* I'm guessing you here because you interested in this. *gestures to the disassembled Tesla pistol*

Ruby: *Nodding her head excitingly, while having stars in her eyes* Yes! *making puppy dog eyes* Please tell me everything about it.

Nikolay: *finally looks up from his disassembled weapon and looks at her* So this is The Tesla pistol, created in year 1985 during the third world war, the man who designed this pistol with the help of The omega science division, is Mikhail Kalashnikov, The create the infamous AK assault rifle. *points at 2 different magazine, one was a regular magazine filled with bullets, while the second one looks like a small car battery* The Tesla pistol can shoot as regular gunpowder bullets and it can shoot High voltage laser projectiles *points to the area of the handle where There is a switch with three different features on it* this switch allows to switch between three different features that the Tesla gun has, Which can go from single shots, automatic and high plasma. *points to the barrel of the pistol that has many tesla rings on it* if switches into high plasma, the Tesla rings on the barrel helps gather more electrical energy before shooting high plasma that can destroy heavy armoured enemies and even vehicles. *Looks back at Ruby* The pistol was named after the Serbian inventor Nicole Tesla due to the technology that was used to create this pistol, that was mostly inspired from the research and adventures of Tesla. *finally finish with his explanation, he sees that star eyed Ruby was in total amazement and awe of the Tesla pistol*

Ruby: WOW! This Gun is amazing. *Looks up at Nikolai with exciting puppy dog eyes* Can I please help you with the Tesla pistol, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!

Nikolay: *makes a small chuckle before petting Ruby's head* Sure, Why not. *Ruby shouts “yay” with raising her fist to the air, before moving closely to him and begins excitedly helping him with the pistol*

[vampiricmechanic]

My review of “Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga”

rating: hard to say but somewhere between ★★★ and ★★★★ (while both at the same time)

text below — includes spoilers!!

Such a hard movie for me to rate. This is going to be long but I’ll fang it as much as I can – fasten your belts.

When I watched this movie at the cinema, I walked out of the room a little overwhelmed, little disappointed, a little happy regardless but mostly trying to sort my thoughts and weigh them in a way that pointed a direction towards like or dislike for it. I’m not sure if I made any progress, but I was able to crank out some coherent sentences that, at least, verbalize the mess inside my head.

I said to my friend – “I feel like I gotta watch this movie three times to be able to opine.” Today I rewatched it with no pretensions, but – if anything – I feel like I rusted the chrome finish of it all by doing so. It’s not bad, yet it’s not good. It is, in all of its pomposity, furiously okay.

I knew it wasn’t going to be Fury Road – by Valhalla, I didn’t want it to be – but I wanted it to look like Fury Road. A little seedling, yet to turn into a ripe peach when set behind its predecessor. The visuals are duller, and while I’m not sure what was attainable filming in a different country, you’ll take the toll of not catching the public’s eye. Humans, we’re like magpies (or crows), there’s no way around it. The hot-blue sky and even hotter orange sand are almost like missing characters.

The way Furiosa loses her arm — I was (in all of my know-it-allness) so sure that, the reason it happened was because she had tried to run away a couple times too many, making someone take away her map. Still, the canon alternative leans so much more into the very nature of Mad Max narratives — bad things will happen no matter how hard we try to avoid them, how far we run from them. The act of not only having to do it herself to live, but also knowing she'd have to trust her memory from now on, is such a clever and heartbreaking choice.

Plot holes can be extrapolated to be worn-out patches or vice-versa, potential for fan additions, creative liberty or overall diversity in interpretations, but I can’t help but yearn for more story – clarification – in some bits. Did no one notice how Furiosa went missing? And no one recognized this little, so thought war-boy, popping up from chains and car gears? When she came back as road warrior Furiosa, I connected the dots that Jack convinced Joe to let her stay as a road warrior, “she’s too good at what she does to be lowered into breeding stock.” Or something of this nature. Charlize’s headcanon of a proven barren Furiosa, bitterly recycled as Praetorian sounded more realistic, but that’s at least one less trauma on her back.

But fear not, not everything is mediocre!

Anya is magnificent, but she feels like a different font of the character – and fair enough! Tom is captivating, Jack is so easy to crush on, every interaction between him and Furi feels like a warm hand clasp. Organic Mechanic, The People Eater, Kalashnikov – even if briefly – maintain their brilliance. Joe feels like Joe but younger, like he’s growing out his evil glare, blunt-blow personality and whatever-it-takes mindset; all that’ll unwillingly soften as he’s past his peak, aged and tired. Scrotus is nowhere as cruel and distressingly unstable as I expected, which is as unfortunate as it isn’t – he’s a fun little guy. Rictus has a surprising twist, and more intellect than I assumed. I’ll take it as his mental capacity being wavering and hard to measure.

Dementus is his own thing. He’s a confident failure, a powerful mess, a character playing a character. He’s so immersed in his idea of greatness he began believing it, no matter how pathetic life proves him to be – and he’ll only come to his senses too late, but regretting none of it. That’s a character I’d read a second chapter of comics about.

Cars, cars, cars. They don’t feel as grand, no longer a key object – and again, fair enough! The War Rig was so many things beyond a truck, but there’s no need for such thing again. For the CGI, I silently winced less than I thought I would, but a couple times too many. Dealbreaker? No.

The blurt out between Furiosa and Dementus in the end, oh, grandiose. Quite literal while maintaining some poeticism, time-old lesson about revenge.

There were many more things I planned on writing down, many of which I talked about so much after watching that my brain made sure to wear away and discard so I could shut up – or alternatively, attain some ability to be briefer. The rest of it I considered irrelevant while my brain revved and fingers burned rubber on the keyboard.

Every time I try to ponder this movie fully, I start out excited, get upset midway through and finish it contently and glad George is still so in love with his own creation, as he should be. In the end, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga isn’t as shine as Fury Road, and as much as I don’t use one as a standard to the other, comparison is unavoidable – just don’t let it be thing that ruins the experience for you. It is an unpolished V8, a movie I wanted, thought we didn’t need, and wouldn’t trade back.

Witnessed! Risen from the ashes of this world into the gates of my Mad Max hyperfixation.

———

NOTE: PLEASE take into consideration this is my opinion and i'm NOT seeking beef. you have every right to disagree, just keep things civil.

[spidermilkshake]

Взаимное уважение (Vzaimnoye Uvazheniye) 1:

More RE fanfiction, of a different kind and a different time--post Raccoon City Incident, and very far away from all that. But we do get some further insight into the modus operandi and the nature/nurture of a particular scary Colonel and his personal Ivan Tyrant bodyguards.

Content Warnings: Mentions of Corporate Bullshit, Cursing (mostly in Russian), anxiety and mentions of trauma, otherwise tame.

Взаимное уважение (Vzaimnoye Uvazheniye), 1:

--------------------------------------

            The security had been about what Collin had expected; two checkpoints had the rather understated Umbrella agent stop his car for pairs of beefy men brandishing Kalashnikovs… or something like Kalashnikovs, anyways. Collin didn’t know guns, except to not say anything stupid and simply hand off his identification to the ones aiming the guns at him. The armed guards grunted, waved him through to the next set of gates, and willfully ignored this weedy annoyance. Ahead, he spied the actual complex itself, though it was beyond the reach of the dirt one-lane road he’d been on for the past half mile, and stopped the slightly dented, rented vehicle to step out and investigate his route further—the complex was, technically, a residence though not a typical one.

The man who lived there was also not a typical one. Colonel Sergei Vladimir was considered “retired�� from Umbrella’s board, but as with most people involved with the company it was impossible to cut all ties, even when the break was legitimate and not just legal smokescreen. Though the Colonel could put a safe distance from the business of genetically-engineered super-virals and the cutthroat bioweaponry environment—sitting comfortably on the stacks of money gained from quite literally selling off bits of himself—he seemed to have prepared well for someone to have found out his involvement anyhow, and be ready to withdraw like a tortoise and fight to the death. He seemed the type, just from what Collin knew. At least a dozen experimental Tyrants had been cloned directly from this bizarre old Soviet, and a dozen more at least had large chunks of his genome spliced into them in the embryonic stages.  

            Collin did not like Tyrants… not the individual creatures and definitely not the concept of them. Despite still being on Umbrella business and very much out of his element, Collin was at least relieved that he was isolated in a private piece of the Ukrainian countryside, and not stuck in some laboratory or test range with the hulking monsters’ cloudy, vacant eyes following his every move. Not nearly as vacant as they looked…

            There was a third checkpoint area at the end of the small footpath some fifty yards down the hill from where he’d left the car, though no guards appeared to be standing at their normal places. There was only a smaller, ordinary metal fence with a very much not-security oriented latch between himself and a small patio leading up to a Brutalist-styled house’s front entrance, and after waiting a few seconds Collin timidly lifted the latch and let himself onto the brick pavers. Still there was no sign of a final checkpoint guard, so he called out once in English, then kicked himself mentally and tried again in a wavery Russian. No voice replied. There wasn’t even the bark of a sentry dog. Steeling his fragile spine, Collin took the next few paces over to the heavy oak door and thought about knocking. There was obviously no doorbell…

            Behind him and to his left came a swift stamping of heavy boots, and Collin spun around in terror as their trajectory stopped less than a yard from him. A tremor rattled the paver he was standing on. He’d already craned his neck up expecting to be glared down by the standard six-foot meathead soldier and cursed out in a mix of tongues for crossing the threshold without clearance. He instead came eye-to-chest with a wall of heavy white fabric. His neck had to creak up another few notches—and Collin shuddered at what was looming very much into his personal space.

            A Tyrant. Of course there would be a goddamn Tyrant, even out here. It wasn’t even a very big one as the trained killer biomutants went—but it was still well in the range of what Collin considered way too damn big for anything that superficially resembled a bald, mute, and jacked humanoid.

            There was… something else weird here too, which Collin didn’t place until the seven-foot-plus monstrosity had stopped and stared the little man down for several seconds, and then leaned its deep grey, leathery face closer. Collin flinched, bringing his hands up into a default position of surrender as he silently prayed the thing was not under any kind of kill orders. With a delayed startle he realized the Tyrant had been… wearing something extra with its bright white Limiter coat.

            Were those… sunglasses?

            Well, maybe “blinders” was also appropriate. They were an iridescent orange, wrap-around type which almost completely obscured the creature’s eyes and brows. The need was obvious: Tyrants of all production phases, all models, and all model variants had long been known to have extremely sensitive eyesight—and prolonged damage from bright sun or frequent flashbangs was the reason behind the eerie, pupilless appearance that many of them developed. Why this one was given a piece of eye protection that was so goofy-looking, like it was off to escort its master to a rave, Collin couldn’t quite understand.

            The goofiness of the glasses did not do much to lessen the very real possibility that Collin was going to piss himself and cry before falling down. The Tyrant had cocked its head slightly, and let out a confused grunt before lowering its head even closer. Its face was almost brushing up on Collin’s messy mop of hair; it sucked in a few heavy sniffs, straightened up, and repeated the process on each of the man’s upraised hands. Collin’s bladder nearly gave up the fight as a second set of thundering footsteps came around the house and loomed in from the right: Another Tyrant. This one was near-identical, except for the goofy sunglasses it wore being blue. This mutant also began sniffing heavily over the elevated portions of the intruder, letting out a low warning growl as Collin tried to duck out of its easy reach.

…What the hell were they doing? Were they under orders at all? Or was he screwed—simply happening to catch these things’ interest while they were freely roaming, and about to get out-of-control mauled by the two of them?

            A large hand stretched out and pawed at the breast pocket of Collin’s shirt, and he stifled a yelp. He held still as a statue as the other’s hands began investigating his open coat pockets, growling a bit more emphatically as its gloved fingers closed over his tube of Chapstick. It snatched the tube, studied it for a second, then gave it an exploratory sniff before baring its upper teeth in disgust and flinging it away. The orange-visored monster was now digging into his slack’s pockets—still with a casual scent-check over Collin’s jacket shoulder as the man couldn’t suppress his squeak in alarm.

Maybe he wasn’t dead. The Tyrants seemed to be searching him—and a fair bit more politely than a TSA agent at that—and once the two monsters had seemingly determined that this intruder had no weapons, poisons, or other dangerous things they’d been ordered to watch for, they let up on the rough grabbing, the menacing growls, and stood back. It wasn’t easy to tell thanks to the ridiculous wrap-around headgear, but the Tyrants now seemed to be calmly watching him. The blue-visored one tilted its head sharply as Collin started lowering his hands to curl up around chest level, and grunted sharply at him.

            What the hell did that mean? Were they… waiting for orders from him now? He wished his voice wasn’t cracking like his balls hadn’t dropped and also that he’d thought to bring some water for his dry mouth:

            “U-umm… English? You understand?”

            To Collin’s shock, the two began nodding eagerly, tensed on their feet like pointer dogs focused on a hidden, quivering rabbit.

            “Right, um, I’ve come to meet with Sergei Vladimir. Is he here?”

            Both started to move, stopping as their broad shoulders bumped into each other and each issued a deep rumble of dissatisfaction as they glared at each other, noses only inches apart. The snarls raised in pitch until finally the slightly bigger one in the orange visor relented, shifting its weight in place, leaving the blue-visored one to tromp off around the side of the house presumably to fetch the ex-Spetsnaz Colonel. Collin tried to just get some oxygen without hyperventilating as he got left with the even less ideal situation. Being small, and being guarded by a seven-foot-plus mutant born and bred to crack heads open and punch through walls.

            “H-he’s, uh, gone to find the Colonel?” He must have snapped if he was chatting with a lethal bioweapon. But anything to help him forget the monstrous nature of the thing still standing less than a yard away, right?

            To Collin’s surprise, the Tyrant peered back down at him and gave a curt bob of its head. He began to nervously chuckle, uncontrollably.

            “Aheh… heh… good… that’s good…”

            The thing grunted again, sounding… interested, confused, annoyed? Collin couldn’t tell, and backed up to the door as the Tyrant suddenly shifted its weight towards him, leaning its entire head, shoulders, and massive chest down as if ready to headbutt him or crush him bodily against the closest wall. Collin flinched, hands wrapping up to futilely protect his eggshell-flimsy skull. He didn’t think he’d done anything provoking, but then the Colonel was known to be a bit on the crazy side. His personal Tyrants might also be trained to be a bit crazy to match.

            But nothing hit him… Cracking an eye open, Collin was startled by the sight of a wrinkly, grey ear hovering less than a foot from his face. The Tyrant was just holding the bent-over posture, waiting. Was it… looking at something by his shoes? There was nothing there but the cracks in the pavers and a light-colored moss. After a second the creature gave a soft groan—now definitely confused and shifting from foot to foot in impatience.

            “W-Uh-Wh-What do you w-want?” Collin prayed to whatever power existed that the Tyrant could parse his stammers. The thing blew a heavy snort through its nostrils, then answered very, very clearly, though the man still half-squealed at the reply he got: It groaned again, it pressed its shoulder sideways against Collin’s, and dipped its head further to bump softly against his forehead.

…Was this… normal for Tyrants? Was it… asking him to, what, pet it, like a dog or something?

            “Well—go on!” A deep, jovial voice chuckled from where its owner was stepping out around the side-yard. “Don’t leave him like that too long! Reward the poor Vanya before he gets let down!”

            Collin’s attention snapped to the tall, white-haired older man who was standing (and trying not the laugh) with the blue-visored Tyrant faithfully shadowing him. His right eye was closed permanently and still marked with a long scar, and he was wearing heavy outdoor boots, trousers, and a half-open coat even in the faint chill of the spring air. He was imposing indeed—barely looking small compared to these Tyrants, and also wore an insufferably amused smirk.

            “Ah, uh—” Collin was still afraid of whatever it meant to “let down” the insistent monster mashing itself into his side, and reached up while trying his best to keep his hand from shaking. Since the thing kept pushing its head further into his personal bubble, Collin gave the creature a quick scratch over the scalp as he might an overtly-friendly dog. The Tyrant let out a rumble that seemed contented, twisting its neck so that the fumbling hand was over the desired spot.

            “Seems Podushka likes you, ahaha!” the man, who could only be the Colonel, guffawed as he watched his visitor’s terrified expression turn fully confused under the barrage of the Tyrant still snuggling heavily onto him. “Come on, get some nerve! The big beast isn’t going to hurt you, сука. Ugh, what kind of hiring is Umbrella resorting to these days?”

            Colonel Sergei said something short and level in… Russian possibly, though he didn’t understand it. The Tyrant—or “Podushka”—swiftly retreated from Collin’s armsreach and grunted in an acknowledgement. The Colonel then stepped over towards his guest with the other Tyrant not far behind and squinted downwards.

            “Hmmm… You’re the one here about the settlement, yes? What do I call you?”

            “C-Collin Davies, sir. Yes, you’re quite right,” he straightened up, trying not to reveal just how chilly he was now that fear-sweat had soaked right through to his lapels, “I’m from Umbrella’s U.K. branch… Just here to confirm with you some things that will, ah, assure your immunity.”

            “Hmph… Might as well get cozy, with all this legal pizdets…” Sergei appeared to chew at the inside of his cheek a moment. “We should do this inside. Laska! Podushka! Follow.”

            Okay, this big Soviet bastard definitely found his phobia of Tyrants hilarious; there was a smirk on his face as he opened the door and let the agent in—making sure the still-rumbling Podushka was right behind the tiny man the whole way.

            Well… at least Colonel Vladimir’s hospitality was as big as whatever offshore bank account his work at Umbrella had bloated. The older man bade him make himself comfortable in one of the armchairs of what was either a living room or a particularly lush study, the dim coals of the last night’s warming fire still glowing in the nearby hearth. Collin politely accepted the glass of ice-water but had to turn down the shot of fiery spirits that his host also offered. Sergei downed his own in a split-second, barely reacting, and passed the unclaimed shot over to the blue-visored Tyrant, who gave it a tentative sniff and drank it almost as swiftly.

            “Nnr!”

            It half-choked, gray nose and lips wrinkling up as it shook its head. Sergei cackled as he took the empty shot glass back from its twitching hands.

            “Ohh, poor Laska. I’m cruel to you, yes? So cruel I give you the thirty-euro vodka… come on, hush, you’re fine. My fantastic Ivan, eh? There you are,” The Colonel plucked something from his pocket and pushed it into the Tyrant’s palm, which upon being studied lit the creature’s face up and earned a higher-pitched grunt.

            While the creature tore open the wrapper and devoured whatever it was that the Colonel had given it, Sergei kicked up his feet onto the small stool close by and sighed.

            “Now, business…”

            Collin knew more gory details than he liked to, but such was required working in the position he did. Many Umbrella executives were now either M.I.A.—presumably either dead, the traitors responsible for the recent disastrous outbreak, or part of the response now running as far from association with the company as possible—or they were part of the ring of board members which the United States Government was now putting under the microscope. Except for the Colonel. There was no official record of his current or recent work under Umbrella, despite his role in salvaging what could be found out of the Raccoon City Incident before the place was “sterilized” in the flash of the USA’s nuclear judgment. Judging from the fact that Colonel Vladimir had helicoptered in, recovered at least one archive and a supercomputer alongside several Monitors and other personnel, and lived to escape was a testament to the fact that Sergei had perhaps been the only competent person involved in that little fiasco that Collin’s boss had dared to call “damage control”.

            The lack of paper or digital trail was very beneficial to Colonel Vladimir’s case—as was the strong evidence which still existed of mismanagement and sabotage from a certain Albert Wesker and Dr. William Birkin, the latter of which was definitely dead and the former disappeared to parts unknown. There would still be sanctions, reparation settlements that would be ordered, and at least a few of the artificially-high-ranked useless toadies on Umbrella’s executive branch would have as much culpability redirected onto their records as possible to give the courts a few sacrificial targets to lay down prison sentences. Umbrella would survive—in what state it couldn’t be said yet, but it would survive this. And by virtue of not being provably anywhere near the States at the time and comfortably at home in a former Soviet country where extradition was rare even for the less powerful… Sergei Vladimir would likely not be seeing the inside of a courtroom.

            Sergei grumbled as he scanned the statements he was to sign and initial, one hand wandering to a small switchblade which he slipped from a pocket and fidgeting with it. Collin tried not to watch the flash of light as the blade flicked out, in, out again—and tried even harder not to stare in alarm as the behemoth of a man then turned the tip of the exposed knife up to his mouth, teeth clicking against metal as he chewed on it. He only stopped as a tiny dribble of blood ran down his gums and beaded at the corner of his mouth, but apparently, he did not stop from pain; the Tyrant left standing by Collin’s chair (Podushka) began to make a soft groaning that almost sounded like a whine, head locked in the direction of its master’s visible bleeding.

            “Hm.” Sergei sheathed and put away the weapon, then wiped away the blood on the back of his sleeve, “Very well, I should sign. I am losing track of time, you see… good, my Ivan! You keep me on task.”

            Podushka’s plaintive noise turned immediately to the more satisfied rumble at the sound of praise. The other—what had he called it again? Laksha? Lasya?—leaned closer to its master’s large armchair and its nostrils flared in a few sniffs, detecting the presence of its master’s blood and tensing up visibly. Sergei chuckled and reached around to pat this Tyrant on the shoulder.

            “Laska, shh.” Vladimir smiled, and not with the schadenfreude as he had at the plight of his guest. Collin watched, completely dumbfounded. He had never seen anyone handle one of these killer mutants this way before; half of the Tyrant training staff he’d ever asked would have said anyone with their guard this low around a T-103 model was asking for at least an accidental fracture, if not far, far worse.

            While Sergei quickly got to work signing and initialing, Collin could not help but notice that the Colonel’s one functioning eye was scrutinizing the far less physically impressive man with a troubling glint in it. As the Colonel flipped to the last place that needed his distinctive scrawl, another almost playful grin was pointed over his way.

            “I see you have been surprised by these two. So, what you make of my Ivans?”

            “Ah… ‘Ivans’, sir?” Collin tried not to let the increase in the sweat beading over his brow be obvious, “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the Tyrant model… Er, they’re T-103s?”

            “Derivative model. By you there is designated T-IVAN-012, and here we have T-IVAN-013. Split embryo. Twin brothers, you could say. But yes, very like the T-103s.” Sergei smirked, “You do not work around such fantastic beasts, do you?”

            “Well, er, actually… a-around them, not exactly with…”

            The Colonel raised up a brow, “Really? Your fear suggests you have no experience whatsoever.”

            “On the contrary,” Collin’s lips split in an anxious, uncontrolled grimace which he quickly warped into a smile, “I’ve had some, uh, not necessarily pleasant experiences. F-frequently.” At this Collin’s heart dropped as the daunting man’s face soured into a somewhat suspicious frown. He said something snappily to the Ivan named Laska, who turned and retrieved a few small objects from one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves before coming back to its master and holding them out. Vladimir grabbed up the cigar first, chomped it a bit more roughly than necessary, and then took the matchbook.

            “Mr. Davies,” he growled around the cigar as he lit it, pausing to take a few strong puffs, “By chance do you recall the facilities where these… not pleasant and frequent experiences occurred to you?”

            “Oh, not to me,” Collin tittered, wiping the back of his neck, “I don’t think I’d be alive now if that stuff was towards me. No no, I just, ah… saw a lot of things in my different placements.”

            “Hm-mm. Saw a lot of Tyrants, eh?”

            “Y-yes. And their handlers.”

            “Come, tell me about some. The training and news of such beasts is a great interest of mine. As you maybe could tell,” he lightened up once more, though there was still a glare aimed his way even while Sergei rewarded Laska once more with a sturdy series of pats on the shoulder which it not-so-subtly leaned into.

            “Er… well, I’m Umbrella U.K. primarily, so I do a lot of assignments at the U.C.T. complex up in Orkney,” his mouth started running, and Collin wasn’t sure what he could do to stop it. Maybe he’d look a bit less of a cowardly bastard if he did go into detail; probably not—this Russian bear was a Soviet-Afghanistan veteran and anything human versus human was likely so much more disturbing than what Collin had to offer. But then it seemed a bit of a relief of pressure to spill the beans to this crazy Colonel. He seemed to have certain… opinions of Collin’s superiors that these violent spectacles he’d witnessed would no doubt prop up a bit higher.

            “We had Tyrant groups transferred there. For uh, specialized training I think. I’m not good with what the purpose of it all was. I was mostly just filing the paperwork. There was this one time a few years ago that a group of three were coming through for training before they got passed along to the buyer in… Sweden, I think.

            “They had a bunch of handlers, of course. They’re 300 kilo monsters, and sometimes they just won’t move the way you want them to.”

            “That they are,” Sergei chuckled. “Go on!”

            “But those three Tyrants had one trainer for whatever it was they were supposed to do in Sweden. This guy named Anton. Didn’t talk to him much. I got the feeling he thought poorly of anyone behind a desk.

            “Anyway, Anton kept putting in notes I had to file up the chain that one of the Tyrants was acting, uh, defective.”

            Sergei snorted.

            “Well, that’s what Anton said. I wouldn’t know.” Collin licked at his dry lips, doing little good since the memory had dried his whole mouth out anyways. “I’m in my work space and I get called to the observation deck there to watch this guy. I guess, ah, that intern knew better what was going to happen.”

            If the dark chuckle the Colonel responded with was any indication, he had a good idea what was next as well—as well as about ten things the suspiciously-past-tense-only Anton should not have done…

            “That Tyrant didn’t look off at all, except that it wasn’t listening to Anton. A handler went in to redirect it, started it going through the basic stuff—moving obstacles, testing reflexes with the tennis ball gun, holding still and turning so its Limiter could get adjusted. You know… And this one was, uh… a big one. A head or more over, um…”

            “—Podushka,” the Colonel reminded him of the larger Ivan’s nickname, then nodded for him to carry on.

            “Yes, so, very big. And when the handler went out, this one did fine. More than fine—it was perfect. In fact it acted kinda… um… well—”

            “—Relieved?” Sergei’s expression wasn’t quite a smirk, but it bled both confidence and foreknowledge. Collin had to stare at him, amazed he’d found the exact word.

            “Yes, that’s it! There was no sign at all it would snap, at least at that point. That Tyrant looked positively cool-headed as it worked, so did the handler.”

            “Mm-hm,” Another low cloud of cigar smoke drifted up towards the ornate vent in the ceiling, “And that tells you—just by logic now, no need to know Tyrant training—exactly who was defective?”

            Not the Tyrant,” Collin did not bother to suppress the shiver, “Its fists worked just fine…”

            “And before fists came out? Details, сука!”

            “Well, er, Anton looked pretty annoyed that this newbie handler wasn’t getting the same treatment as him. So he pushed the guy back to the door and said he’d take over the drills.” Collin shrugged. “Next thing anyone knew, that thing was on top of Anton, and then he was not so much Anton as, ah… several pieces.”

            “It sounds to me,” Vladimir again patted Laska, which then evolved into stroking the creature’s entire shoulder and arm, prompting the Ivan to tilt its head heavily down towards the contact, “like this anonymous handler had the Tyrant’s respect. Perhaps enough it considered the handler its master it had to protect. You see now why Anton did not make it, yes?”

            “It… thought Anton was attacking its master?”

            “As surely as anyone going to shove me would feel my Vanyas’ wrath, absolutely. It is one of the finer qualities of any Tyrant—loyalty, and a willingness to put themselves between a threat and the ones they must protect. Even if it brings pain to them—they want to fight—to protect, more than they want to avoid pain.”

            Collin’s voice caught in his throat; he decided he would not mention that the higher-ups had opted to put down the “faulty/insubordinate” Tyrant.

            “Ugh, idiot trainer,” the ex-Soviet grumbled, sucking on the cigar with a more desperate force. “This was not the only such debil you saw at work, eh.”

            “Err… no sir, I would say not, sir.”

            “Serves them right then. Tyrants are truly too good for them.”

            “Um… Sir?”

            “Hm, you know how some say ‘mankind does not deserve dogs’?” Sergei mused, “It is much the same with any beast that has grown to live alongside humans. Such creatures,” Vladimir’s voice went low, “are innocent. They ask for nothing—especially not to be born to serve. There are… situations in our world that let us know that there are Masters, and there are Slaves. Leaders and Followers. It would be the duty of the leader to ensure the needs of the followers, though…” the older man’s brow cinched up, darkening his expression, “This is often not the case. Thus there are Masters and Slaves. While any well-trained guard dog would be fully within its right to attack the Master who beats or starves it, a dog… well, any normal animal doesn’t have the power to remind mankind what we owe it.

            “But a Tyrant,” Sergei’s deep, intimidating voice became full of awe, full of softness where you wouldn’t expect, “A Tyrant had the power. So close to human in form and build and makeup, they wake automatically understanding our words and reading our faces, our voices. And whenever mankind does not deserve a Tyrant, the Tyrant can and will make it known.

“So when a Tyrant obeys you, it is humbling. This beast could so easily destroy every bone in your body, take whatever it needed or wanted, and treat you as nothing… but it does not. It is the ultimate example of serving another, or absolute willingness, and to earn such an unconditional devotion is…” the huge man sighed, “… almost spiritual.”

“…You… care about these two quite a lot, don’t you?”

“Oh, certainly,” the man’s hand had wandered up to the area just behind the Ivan’s ear, and the creature’s fingers curled up involuntarily as it began to grumble with a tone that was as pleased as Collin had ever heard from one of the monsters. Another Tyrant vocalization—a dull groan, almost yearning—sounded from right behind the Colonel’s visitor, and he jumped slightly before remembering Podushka was still looming over his chair. “I have… given up much. Some things I should not have—It was a failure of mine that haunts me, yet it had to be done. But for these two, I can earn back that worth. So long as I am not dead, then I have the trust of my dear Ivans!”

Sergei then squinted at the flinching man, entertained still by his reflexive fright, “Mr. Davies—you have an urgent request waiting, hahah!”

The small man reached a tentative hand up, hoping the Ivan would guide him a bit in exactly where to place it. Podushka growled loudly, but not with any kind of aggression, and soon enough expressed that the thought did count even if the reaching hand was nowhere near it: There was a gentle clonk of the brute’s cranium resting down on the top of Collin’s shaggy mop.

“Um.”

Oh god. He must have looked especially pathetic now, because the ex-Spetsnaz was visibly cracking up at this. Sucking up the two atoms’ worth of courage in his whole body, Collin tucked his upraised hand around and scratched vigorously at the first spot of Tyrant he came in contact with—which ended up being the side of its meaty neck. Podushka pressed into it, blissful grumble vibrating itself, Collin, and the chair he sat in like a revving engine.

“Good, my Vanya, ha! You are lucky, Mr. Davies. These two do not warm up to outsiders like this so easy. Especially not Podushka. He is fiercely protective whenever strangers call.”

“Uh. I… sort of doubt I’m all that dangerous.” The Ivan seemed to concur—if it was even paying much attention, that is. It was currently occupied with nuzzling the side of its broad jaw down into the top of the captive guest’s hair, squeezing the man lower just hard enough that Collins squeaked and gasped sharply, but not hard enough to compress him into an accordion shape, “U-um! Easy—you’re heavy, oof.”

“Podushka, do not break him, eh?” Sergei snickered, and with a low huff through its nostrils the Tyrant released the agent’s head, though still lingered overhead low enough to continue extorting affection from him. “Well, it appears all of the legal nonsense is done. But it is late, yes? You will not be making it back to civilization before dark…”

“Is… that a particular concern around here, Colonel?”

“Hmph, you don’t fear driving forty kilometers in the night on these old backroads, alone? If some debil didn’t want your car, or your money, it would be your kidneys at least.”

“Ah,” Collin’s hand froze mid-scratch, and a puzzled grunt issued from the Tyrant, “I, uh, had a room paid for back in Zinkiv, but I’m not sure getting there sounds appealing.” Reminded of the biomutant’s presence as it bumped itself against him again, Collin startled and gave Podushka three final pats before retrieving his hand, “A-are you sure these, uh, your Ivans would be safe to be around for that long? As an outsider?”

“Merely overnight,” Sergei chuckled and shook his head, “If their master gives the word, they will leave you be. Even without my orders, you’d be fine. Don’t do anything foolish, and you are better off taking your chances with the Tyrants than the… locals,” he sniffed.

“Well, I… thank you for the, ah, hospitality. It’s quite unexpected in my line of work.”

“Not a problem,” Vladimir shook his head more forcefully, “We are in this work together, hm? Come, I will show you the guest room. Soon is dinner—that is, if you do not mind local commoner fare.” He chuckled darkly, “And sharing it with Tyrants.”

“Eheh… So long as no one bites my hand off I should manage.”

[arnold-layne]

First of all: congrats on landing the internship!!!! crossing my fingers the workload will be manageable and you'll learn a lot of things that'll be useful for you down the road! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

and would you like to tell me about your original story? what are the main characters like? their personalities/relationships/motivations? and what's the setting like? Time, area, social climate, whatever else you wanna ramble about? I always love to read your fanfics and the updates have saved my mind a bunch of times and i simply cannot wait to hopefully one day experience your original writing!!! <333

sending all my love, hope you're doing okay bestie <333

thank uuuu <3 i'm liking it so far and even if i dont land the job (hoping i will tho) i will have something to put on my resume, which is more than what i have now (nothing)

ok so!!! the setting is a desert planet, think dune mixed with fallout new vegas mixed with tatooine, and people there mostly live in trailers and cars and their lives pass in traveling the desert searching for food and water. this planet used to be highly technological but then something, ahem, happened and now people live on the remains of that civilization, but they still retain some technical knowledge. two main heroines are jina and aela. jina is constantly anxious and has a cybernetic arm and a family relic - a kalashnikov that she never parts with; aela is reckless, outspoken girl with armor skin covering her whole body and an unnatural fascination with explosives. one day they traverse the desert and find a car with a dead driver whose guts have been ripped out and a trailer full of canisters of precious water. in his computer they find strange coordinates and decide to go there to check if they can get more water there and become rich... and the rest you will learn if i ever finish it and translate it to english <3 i'm having a lot of fun writing this story, and im especially fond of the dynamics between jina and aela! thank u for asking, i really love talking about my writing <3

[thepastisalreadywritten]

AK-47

AK-47, Soviet assault rifle, possibly the most widely used shoulder weapon in the world.

The initials 'AK' represent Avtomat Kalashnikova (Russian for "automatic Kalashnikov") for its designer, Mikhail Timofeyevich Kalashnikov, who designed the accepted version of the weapon in 1947.

Kalashnikov says he regrets inventing the weapon. But personally, weapons don't take people's lives. People do.

Cars, tools, or any object can be used as a weapon. The real weapon lies in the minds of those who use weapons for bad reasons.

—

Mikhail Timofeyevich Kalashnikov (10 November 1919 – 23 December 2013) was a Soviet and Russian lieutenant general, inventor, military engineer, writer, and small arms designer.

He is most famous for developing the AK-47 assault rifle and its improvements, the AKM and AK-74, as well as the RPK light machine gun and PK machine gun.

[head-post]

Trump assassination suspect urged volunteers to join Ukrainian army

Another assassination attempt was made on Donald Trump at his golf club in Florida on Sunday. Police have already detained the suspect. The shooter was reportedly running a website that recruits military personnel for the Ukrainian armed forces.

The US Secret Service said agents opened fire on the gunman near a golf course. The suspect fled in a black car, but a witness helped authorities identify the vehicle, leading to its detection. Palm Beach County Sheriff Ric Bradshaw said at a press conference that a man who is considered a potential suspect is currently in custody.

Bradshaw stressed that Trump was playing golf at his West Palm Beach course, located near his Mar-a-Lago residence, when the shooter was spotted on the hole directly in front of him. Campaign spokesman Steven Cheung confirmed that the former president was safe after shots rang out near him.

Secret Service spokesman Rafael Barros said they are still not sure if the man managed to shoot their agents. Agents patrolling the golf course reportedly spotted the barrel of a shotgun coming out from behind the fence. The suspect was located approximately 300-500 yards (275-455 metres) away. A weapon resembling a Kalashnikov assault rifle with a telescopic sight was found at the scene, along with two backpacks and a GoPro camera believed to be intended for filming. Barros also added:

The threat level is high. We live in danger times.

Detained shooter supported Ukraine

Records show 58-year-old Ryan Wesley Routh lived in North Carolina for most of his life before moving to Kaaawa, Hawaii, in 2018. There, he and his son operated a barn building company, according to an archived version of that business’s web page, AP News reports.

Routh often wrote on social media about the war in Ukraine and had a website where he tried to raise money and recruit volunteers to travel to Kyiv to join the Ukrainian army. A photo of Routh posted on the site shows him smiling, wearing a T-shirt and jacket emblazoned with American flags.

In June 2020, he published a post on X asking then-President Trump to win re-election by issuing an executive order directing the Justice Department to prosecute police officers for misconduct.

That year, he also posted a post in support of the presidential campaign of Democrat Tulsi Gabbard (Hawaii), then a US representative who has since defected to Trump. However, in recent years, judging by his posts, he stopped liking Trump and began supporting President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris.

In July, following Trump’s assassination attempt in Pennsylvania, Routh urged Biden and Harris to visit those injured in the shooting at the hospital and attend the funeral of a firefighter killed at the rally. He wrote:

Trump will never do anything for them …. show the world what compassion and humanity is all about.

According to voter registration records, he registered as an unaffiliated voter in North Carolina in 2012 and last voted in person in the state’s Democratic Party primary in March 2024.

Routh has also made 19 small donations totalling $140 since 2019 using his Hawaii address to ActBlue, a political action committee that supports Democratic candidates, according to federal campaign finance records.

In May, an assassination attempt in Slovakia critically wounded the republic’s prime minister, Robert Fico. The assailant turned out to be Juraj Cintula, a supporter of the opposition Progressive Slovakia party. Cintula later admitted that he had opposed Fico’s policies when the Slovak prime minister promised not to send weapons to Ukraine, as Trump is now doing, and criticised Kyiv’s NATO bid.

Harris’ reaction to the assassination attempt

The White House said US President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris had been briefed on the incident and were “relieved that he Trump is safe.” Harris, who is the Democratic presidential candidate, said:

Violence has no place in America.

She also added:

I am deeply disturbed by the possible assassination attempt of former President Trump today. As we gather the facts, I will be clear: I condemn political violence. We all must do our part to ensure that this incident does not lead to more violence.I am thankful that former President Trump is safe. I commend the US Secret Service and law enforcement partners for their vigilance. As President Biden said, our Administration will ensure the Secret Service has every resource, capability, and protective measure necessary to carry out its critical mission.

This is the second time Trump has been targeted by gunmen. On July 13, Trump was wounded in the ear in a shooting at a campaign rally in Pennsylvania. One spectator died as a result of the shooting. The Secret Service informed that the shooter, 20-year-old Thomas Crooks, has been eliminated.

Read more HERE

[mariacallous]

A Russian journalist in the city of Izhevsk was kidnapped and assaulted last weekend, according to the Telegram news channel where he works, Izhevsky Venik.

On the night of January 27, Alexander Skvortsov reportedly left his home to “get some exclusive information from a source.” He was then forced into a car, where “a hat was taped over his eyes, his mouth was sealed, and his hands were tied up,” the channel reported. After that, the attackers took him to what he believes was a basement.

There, one of the kidnappers explained in clear terms that he needed to stop “writing bullshit about respected people and [drone manufacturer] Zala Aero.” To make sure he got the message, they beat him — professionally, without leaving a trace. They threatened to harm his loved ones and our entire team.

After Skvortsov had been in the basement for an entire day, the kidnappers took him back to the spot where they had abducted him. He reported the incident to the police, but they refused to register his report due to a “lack of evidence.”

Other journalists at Izhevsky Venik have also reportedly received threatening calls and messages.

“We don’t have any resources or ways to stand up to Zala Aero. So for now, we’re suspending our work,” the outlet wrote.

Zala Aero is a subsidiary of Kalashnikov owned by Russian businessman Alexander Zakharov, the designer of the Lancet combat drone, which has been widely used by Russian forces in Ukraine. In December 2023, the British government imposed sanctions against Zakharov and his family. The independent outlet iStories has reported that Zakharov owns an apartment in London and that one of his sons lives abroad and works at the U.N. Institute for Disarmament Research.

[jaxtothefuture]

Young Abdel Mahdi Shahmay was only 18 years old,

He was the youngest of nine children

He never spent a night away from home.

And his mother held his photograph up in the New York Times

To see the killing has intensified along the road to peace

He was a tall, thin boy with a whispy moustache

Disguised as an orthodox Jew

On a crowded bus in Jerusalem, some had survived World War Two

And the thunderous explosion blew out windows two hundred yards away

With more retribution and seventeen dead along the road to peace

Now at King George Ave and Jaffa Road passengers boarded bus 14A

In the aisle next to the driver Abdel Mahdi Shahmay

And the last thing that he said on

Earth is, "God is great and God is good"

And he blew them all to kingdom come upon the road to peace

Now in response to this another kiss of death was visited upon

Yasser Taha, Israel says is an Hamas senior militant

And Israel sent four choppers in, flames engulfed his white Opel

And it killed his wife and his three year old child

Leaving only blackened skeletons

They found his toddler's bottle and a pair of small shoes

And they waved them in front of the cameras

But Israel says they did not know

That his wife and child were in the car

There are roadblocks everywhere and only suffering on TV

Neither side will ever give up their smallest right

Along the road to peace

Israel launched its latest campaign against Hamas on Tuesday

Two days later Hamas shot back and killed five Israeli soldiers

So thousands dead and wounded on both

Sides most of them middle eastern civilians

They fill their children full of hate to fight an old man's war

And die upon the road to peace

"And this is our land we will fight with all

Our force" say the Palastinians and the Jews

Each side will cut off the hand of

Anyone who tries to stop the resistance

If the right eye offends thee then you must pluck it out

And Mahmoud Abbas said Sharon had been lost

Out along the road to peace

Once Kissinger said "we have no friends, America only has interests"

Now our president wants to be seen as a hero

And he's hungry for a re-election

But Bush is reluctant to risk his future

In the fear of his political failures

So he plays chess at his desk and poses for the press

Ten thousand miles from the road to peace

In the video that they found at the home of Abdel Mahdi Shahmay

He held a Kalashnikov rifle and he spoke with a voice like a boy

He was an excellent student,

He studied so hard, it was as if he had a future

He told his mother that he had a test that day

Out along the road to peace

The fundamentalist killing on both

Sides is standing in the path of peace

But tell me why are we arming the

Israeli army with guns and tanks and bullets?

And if God is great and God is good

Why can't he change the hearts of men?

Well maybe God himself is lost and needs help

Maybe God himself he needs all of our help

Maybe God himself is lost and needs help

He's out upon the road to peace

Well maybe God himself is lost and needs help

Maybe God himself he needs all of our help

And he's lost upon the road to peace

And he's lost upon the road to peace

Out upon the road to peace.

-Tom Waits, Road to Peace

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this Week # 145 (Year 3/Week 41):

The Axe, a French thriller by Costa-Gavras, about a laid-off executive at a large paper manufacturing firm, who fruitlessly tries for 2 years to find another new job. Eventually he becomes desperate enough that he starts killing his job competitors. A bit like Walter White, it's a roundabout critique of turbo-capitalism and corporate greed, served under a facade of black humor. 6/10.

🍿

Javier Barden x2:

🍿 Another biting anti-corporate comedy, the Spanish The good boss, a week in the life of Anton Chigurh as a charismatic factory owner. Like a benevolent father to his employees, he seems helpful and understanding - as long as it suits his very self-centered needs. Manipulative and Machiavellian, it's hard to take your eyes off him. 9/10.

🍿 Only my 4th Michael Mann movie, the King of LA crime city at night, the terrific thriller Collateral. A west-coast 'Taxi Driver' action thriller, with Tom Cruise as a killing Terminator, that like a bunny, dosen't stop. It starts with a quiet, beautiful prelude at the cab, and ends, after a long action-adventure, with the same couple who survived a long, bloody adventure, walking the streets at dawn, and [like the end of 'Midnight Run'] can't find a cab to take them home. 8/10.

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Bekas ("Up and away"), my first Kurdish film from Iraq [actually, it’s a Swedish production, directed by an Iraqi-born Swedish director]. Beautifully set in yellow tint in bare desert landscapes, it's about 2 young brothers, orphans with nobody to care for them. After seeing a Superman movie in the poor village where they live, they decide to travel to America and meet their hero. (Photo Above).

The trailer doesn’t represent its simple mood. 7/10.

🍿

The mirror, my 4th unique meta-film by prosecuted Iranian director Jafar Panahi, about a little girl trying to find her way home. Mina is a second grader whose mom didn't pick her up from school, so she takes off on a scary journey through the dangerous, chaotic streets of Tehran (3 accidents are seen in the background).

But in the exact middle of this sweet, empathetic kid-film, the little girl is heard saying 'I don't want to to be in this movie any more', and the second half follows her clandestinely from across the streets, as she's supposedly no longer play-acting. The distinction between reality and make-belief is blurred and kept unexplained.

100% on Rotten Tomatoes.

🍿

"Haider, that burrito wouldn't budge"

Haider, an interesting 3 hours Indian adaptation of 'Hamlet', the director's 3rd part of a Shakespeare trilogy (After Macbeth and Othello). Set on the background of the modern day conflict in Kashmir, it's filled with cinematic anachronisms like Kalashnikov battles in snowy graveyards, and queen Gertrude strapping a belt of hand granades and suicide kills herself. Poetic and rich, it uses dozens of beautiful locations to tell the Oedipal story of murder and revenge.

Unfortunately, there are only a couple of song/dance numbers, the gravediggers scene, and the Nightingale Bismil dance.

🍿

2 with Adèle Exarchopoulos:

🍿 My 4th gay drama by Ira Sachs, Passages, his latest and the least enjoyable of them. A love triangle between a married male couple in Paris, one of whom falls in love with Adèle Exarchopoulos. But this small 'unconventional wrinkle' didn't elevate the flat narrative. Especially when the main character was such a flawed, vain and unsympathetic man. 3/10.

🍿 In Zero Fucks Given she brilliantly plays a young stewardess at a low-fare carrier based in the Canary Island. After the death of her mother in a car accident, her life is rudderless, emotionally stunted, hard. Like the cinematic style of the story, episodic, sporadic, without relief. 8/10.

🍿

“...Love is a most reckless thing…”

Another subversive Douglas Sirk melodrama, There's always tomorrow. Gender roles at the heart of American conformism of the 1950's. A toy manufacturer who feels unloved and un-appreciated by his middle-class family, meets a woman from his past. But no impropriety must disturb society's natural order; Even his children know that. 7/10.

🍿

2 Danish thrillers+ 2 delightful bonuses:

🍿 The Keeper of Lost Causes, my second of the Danish detective series about 'Department 'Q', which deals with "cold" homicide cases (after 'A conspiracy of faith'). Nikolaj Lie Kaas and Fares Fares are the detectives demoted to work out of the basement in the typically-engaging Nordic Noir. Unfortunately, the story turns into horror when a sadistic psychopath kidnaps a woman and keeps her locked in a pressure chamber. 5/10.

🍿 Hærværk ("Vandalism"), a faithful adaptation of Tom Kristensen's classic novel about a 1920's newspaperman who self-destruct. Like 'Druk', and 'Under the volcano', 'Days of wine and roses', etc. it's a senseless and tedious descent into the depth of desperation and self-loathing.

🍿 Dexter Gordon playing in Montmartre Copenhagen and Oscar Peterson Trio with Guest Dexter Gordon, both from 1969. Montmarte was the heart of European jazz world at that time. Perfections!

🍿

The Trotsky, a very thin Canadian comedy about a 17-year-old student who believes that he’s the reincarnation of Leon Trotsky, so he starts agitating for a Russian-style revolution at his Jewish Montreal high-school. This joke premise is quickly exhausted, and the class struggle aspect is played for laughs. Small roles for 'Lee Donowitz' Saul Rubinek and 'Megan Draper' Jessica Paré. One plus for a dream sequence that replays the baby carriage scene from 'Battleship Potemkin'.

🍿

The Burial, a David and Goliath legal drama about a flamboyant Johnnie Cochran-style lawyer who takes a case from small-time funeral home director Tommy Lee Jones, and - Surprise, motherfuckers! - wins big against an evil corporation. Old cliches of black identity, southern graciousness and old racism tropes makes this a shallow and forgettable effort. That that's even before they get into the second half of the movie, which they spend in trial; I can't stand fake courtroom dramatizations. 2/10.

🍿

Chantilly Bridge is a chick-flick TV movie that is apparently a continuation of a previous story from 20-30 years ago. This ensemble piece of all-female older actresses cast about long-term friendship, an all-talking"Big chill" for women. It doesn't have a Wikipedia page yet, but glowing IMDb reviews. Unfortunately, I couldn't finish it.

🍿  

(My complete movie list is here)