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perpetual-catmotion · 1 year ago

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'sona lore (brief version)

To be updated when I feel like it. I'm writing a much more detailed story version of this, but that's gonna take a while.

09/11/23: various rewordings, speeling correkshuns and a vague attempt at kicking my addiction to semicolons, brackets and excessive commas. Some extraneous details omitted (there's e.g. Sarna for deeper dives into specific 'mech models and such) Capitalization of common nouns kept to first instances of a word (e.g. MechWarrior). Spelling Americanized where applicable, cos lol

Any place but home

Robyn, born 2995, is a down-on-her-luck MechWarrior from the Lyran Commonwealth system of Vantaa. A rather miserable planet, but altogether not involved in the Third Succession War. The system is close to the Draconis Combine border, but being on the Periphery edge meant that while there were pirate attacks, it didn't see much fighting between the Great Houses.

Her parents were a retired FedCom foot soldier (who disappeared without a trace some years ago, including all his luggage), and a Lyran court scribe to a minor noble (perishing in a pirate attack not too long ago). Extended family ranges from just kinda there, to outright untrustworthy in some cases. There was even one pirate lord amongst her great uncles, until a rival sniper cracked him open like the last beer can on the troop transport.

Not particularly sociable (or rather, not particularly good at it), she spent her early adult years working the spaceport, unloading the DropShips that acted as the planet's lifeline. To escape backbreaking physical labor, she eventually earned an IndustrialMech license. A Buster loader 'mech, dating back the Star League and even manufactured on Terra, was her employer's sole remaining unit. Nicknamed Tulinen Teemu (or just Teemu for short) for the frequently-backfiring combustion engine, and just plain catching on fire sometimes.

She lost her license when pirates attacked. Putting her piloting skills to use, she helped fend off the pirates (with a lot of throwing and smashing of stuff), but punting one of their Skimmer hovercraft into the side of the dropship she was unloading netted the company a "hefty" repair bill from the captain, and had them strip her of her license. It was the equivalent of throwing a Ford Pinto into the side of the Nimitz, but apparently squeegees and paint are expensive these days.

You're in the LCAF now

A passing officer of the Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces, who witnessed the fight (and the hovercraft punting) offered her a place piloting actual BattleMechs, an offer she tentatively accepted; if only to get off the planet. However, she ran the risk of being thrown into the meat grinder of the Third Succession War. She signed up, was assigned to the 30th Lyran Guards, and indeed got promptly thrown into action against the Combine.

Her first major combat action was part of the invasion to reclaim Sevren from the Combine in 3024. She didn't get one of the fancy new Hatchetman 'mechs the regiment was inundated with, but made do with a GRF-1N Griffin. It's got two good fists that helped her keep up with the Hatchetmen in urban combat, and longer-ranged weapons for when things are out of punching range.

While equipped with jumpjets and an avid user of them, she wasn't all that good at death from above attacks, and quickly abandoned the practice after failing spectacularly once. Trying to crush a J. Edgar hovertank, she instead missed slightly and slipped. The lasting embarrassment (not alleviated by beating the hovertank to a pulp), and the Skimmer incident previously, inculcates a lifelong hatred of hover vehicles in her.

Verdammte Kompanie

After the Sevren campaign, she was reassigned to 13th company and they were sent to hunt pirates. Lacking political connections, she never rose above the rank of first leutnant, but at least had command of her own lance. Their hauptmann was a minor noble by the name of Gormann. Furious he was assigned to this damned company and denied glory, but generally trying his best to keep them supplied, at least. Which was handy, as the 13th didn't get more than scraps from higher command; to the point they'd sometimes have to trade ammunition with the locals for toilet paper.

Her last mission with the unit saw first and second lances, with command lance predictably held in reserve, head to the location of a reported pirate dropship landing, in the system of Here. Normally the 8th Arcturan Guards' stomping grounds, but Gormann wanted this glory for himself. Expecting to catch some amateurs with their pants down, the lances instead came face to face with a veteran raiding party with a Union dropship and a full 'mech company. They defeat the pirates, but got the shit kicked out of them.

Gormann and Robyn were the only survivors, once all was said and done. Gormann tries to kill her to bury the only living witness to his fuckup, but fumbled the last killing stroke, giving her the opening she needed to turn his Hatchetman's axe on him. He ejected before his reactor breached, and she threw his ejection pod into the burning pirate dropship.

I'm going for a walk, I may be some time

She gets back to the company dropship and says nothing, though since the Hatchetman's diagnostic data was being recorded, they already knew. They fixed up her 'mech as best they could, loading it with supplies, tradable trinkets (along with salvaged pirate loot) and their precious few notes and coins. Gormann might've tried to kill her, but the LCAF would utterly bury her to hide this incident, so she had to go. As far away as possible.

The 'mech is repaired as best they can, LCAF livery and unit markings are painted over with a crude approximation of forest camo. She claims Gormann's hatchet as her own, engraving it with "Lalli". LRM-10 was gone, so the LRM ammo bins were repurposed for storage. Her final destination: Canopus. Nobody else would accept a deserting LCAF officer, and she'd just about nuked any bridges with the local pirate kingdoms.

While the 8th Arcturan sends their own dropship to check up on the decimated company, she hides in some of the local catacombs; various bunkers and underground facilities dating back centuries. Once they've both left, she follows instructions on a datapad supplied by her crew. Gormann's smuggler contacts could get her out of system, and indeed it looks like he'd arranged to have himself smuggled out, arranging and paying for it some time ago.

Anywhere but Here

She follows the instructions to an isolated spaceport that was once a Rim Worlds Army company base. Painted over the faded original unit markings, in bold colours and blocky letters were the words "Anywhere but Here Shipping", their logo a fairly unwell-looking planet with three dropships flying out to the upper right and spreading out. She pays a little extra as her mech is a fair bit heavier than the Hatchetman they were expecting. On the 23rd of November, 3025, her exodus begins.

Over the course of 14 jumps, 102 days and 329 lightyears, she reaches the system of Issaba. She helps the dropship unload for some money, and gets some tips on local work she can do. An extra month of dockwork to make some more, and manages to sell all of her remaining cargo. With the proceeds she buys a pair of medium lasers, and christens her modified 'mech with the designation GRF-TB Thunderbird.

Enders End

The next leg of her journey takes her to Enders Cluster (specifically Ender 4, rather appropriately named "This is It?"), this time aboard a rather shady, modified cargo Leopard that smells slightly less of stale beer. After 9 jumps, 66 days and 232 LY, she arrives, hops off and tries to find something to do to fund the next trip. Specifically, a month-long security contract for a local archaeological digsite.

They'd already fended off multiple pirate attacks, and after a week of patrols, they attack once again. A Locust, Wasp and Assassin, along with a couple dozen mostly light vehicles. The pirates are defeated, but not before wiping out local security and claiming the lives of several civilian workers. A bloodbath that will never quite leave her memory.

The company can't afford to pay out her full rate plus combat bonuses (since with things heating up, they need to hire a whole professional merc outfit), so they offer her a deal: a rare lostech XL 275 engine for her 'mech, supplies, refit and transport, if she helps them get revenge on the pirate gang in a system along her route. Andiron, in the Circinus Federation; a pirate kingdom that puts on airs of democracy. She accepts. Her current contract is cut short after another week, and she embarks on the next.

Operation Clothesline(d)

She, as the additional member to an under-strength merc outfit, spend 7 jumps, 51 days and 159 LY getting to know each other, and preparing for their mission. The pirates are holed up in an old RWA base, but seem oddly weak. Until they kick down the gate, jump over the walls, and come face to face with heavy armor, and a salvaged royal Orion. Still being refitted, but phenomenally dangerous. It claims the lives of two of the mercs, and grievously wounds the third before falling.

A stash of double heatsinks are uncovered, amongst other looted the pirates had accumulated. She gets heatsinks and an LRM-10, the surviving merc gets the Orion along with the other two's 'mechs; rest of the salvage goes to the company that sent the expedition. After 9 days of salvaging and repairs, they part ways. The last Robyn hears of the merc, she's taken over leadership of the merc outfit and is busy terrorizing the other local pirate gangs. She and the company perish at the hands of an elite Federation response team, many years later.

No home away from home

From Andiron to Lahti takes 9 jumps, 66 days, 211 LY. She tries to cut her journey short and settle here, in a border region of the Free Worlds League. She gets a job in corporate security as something of a prestige piece. After all, how many companies have a veteran pirate hunter in their employ, piloting a military-grade Battlemech loaded with rare tech? There aren't much in the way of pirates in this region of space though, just some relatively peaceful minor Periphery powers.

After three months and three days, Lyran black ops, specifically Loki, prove staying to be a terrible idea. People she's formed connections with die as a result of her staying too long. Company higher ups, furious about the actions of a foreign intelligence agency, use their connections to grant her escape, and hire some mercs to give Loki agents, and the rat that tipped them off, a nasty surprise.

So close, yet so far.

From Lahti to Tellman's Mistake is 8 jumps, 58 days and 192 LY. Learning from their last mistake, Loki hire local mercs to hunt her down, and get a local lord in on the action by framing her for LCAF atrocities on the Steiner/Marik border. She's hunted by them for two months and 13 days; initially doing well, but gradually worn down.

She confronts the lord, who had realized she wasn't responsible like Loki led him to believe, but after having killed several of his family in combat, he doesn't really care anymore and wants her dead all the same. The ensuing battle leaves her mech a shambles, but accidentally stumbling ass-first into his son's plot to take the throne. He gets her and her wrecked 'mech a ticket out of there, but little else. Not even some biscuits.

Canopus

From Tellman's Mistake to Canopus is 10 jumps, 73 days, 234 LY. After a total of 57 jumps, 416 days (635 days total including non-travel time), and 1357 LY of travel, she has finally reached her destination. Utterly destitute and unable to use her 'mech to earn money, she gets by with a month and two weeks of odd jobs, barely managing to sustain herself and keep her 'mech. Certainly not enough to afford her transition.

She's then offered a contract that seems too good to be true; a month-long stint of brute enforcer work, with laser pistol and fist, after which she'll have her transition paid for, and her 'mech fully repaired. Having few other options, and barely reading the contract, she accepts. The month comes due, and she realizes the transition comes with becoming a catgirl, and several years of service in their dingy clubs to pay her massive debt. Catgirls are rather popular with tourists on Canopus for some reason, much to the chagrin of long-term residents and locals.

33382044000

The shady lostech medical capsule the clinic used goes a bit too far, and she ends up, well... "Pop the lid and let's see how she's doing" "Ma'am? How are you feeling?" "mrrrp? :3" "Oh fuck" She's released from her contract immediately with an apology and enough money to get her 'mech walking, on the condition she doesn't report them to Canopian medical board.

Exactly 1 year, 11 months and 11 days from the start of her journey, from the moment she stepped onto the first dropship, she has transitioned. And despite becoming a bit more than she bargained for, certainly a lot more than a catgirl, she finally likes what she sees in the mirror.

A woman. A cat as well, sure, but a woman. And hey, cats are pretty neat.

She applies for citizenship on political asylum grounds, having roundly pissed off the Lyrans and kinda fucked things up with some of the League, and offers to serve in the Magistracy Armed Forces to fulfill the national defense contribution requirement. They fix Thunderbird up the rest of the way, and she proves to be an even better mechwarrior after her changes. She can't really be trusted around laser pointers anymore, though.

#woe be upon ye who finds this post #no i'm not gonna use tags that make this easier to find #for the love of Kerensky don't reblog this

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aliaparker3 · 1 year ago

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How to Make Cheap Tents in NZ More Affordable

Introduction:

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Opt for Basic Features:

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mttstructures · 2 years ago

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kianmcgrath · 13 days ago

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Flirting wasn’t Kian’s forte. He’d tried, for a while, when he was young and slightly more confident, tucked safely in the confines of The George back home. It was one of the few Gay Bars in Dublin that he’d ever found himself, its longstanding residence in the city center a comfort to a much younger, far more afraid Kian. Those same fears riddled the back of his mind even now, but they wore different faces. Kian’s queerness was quieter now than it had ever been before, the uncertainty of each encounter with a stranger enough to make him build his walls up. Indeed, even his relationship with Rory had started off a little tentative. The other lad’s openness to talking about other men, never shying away from the fact that he fancied himself a bit of a rogue, had been the very thing that Kian had needed to calm his nerves. Their friendship had come first, the careful companionship paving the way for the pair of them to act on their shared lust later. Rory had been gentle with him, talking him through their first encounters, patient as Kian had relearned every touch and position that made him feel good.

It felt unusual for another man to be so open with him, in broad daylight, about the fact that he was hitting on Kian. Hackles up, ready and rearing to make an escape, the wicked, more sinister little devil on the barman’s shoulder told him not to trust it. This man was Ivy’s friend, though. He wasn’t closeted and burying himself in shame the same way that Kian was – he seemed open to the flirtation, simple and easy, something innocent that could amount to nothing or to everything. It seemed to come natural to him, yet he still sported a warm blush and a nervous smile. The careful combination of teasing and shy only endeared Kian to him further.

“If it’s shite, you’ve only yourself to blame,” Kian found himself laughing, shaking his head as he turned his back to the other man.

He enjoyed the distraction that came with sourcing a clean glass, scoping out which of their beers he thought Louis might enjoy. In truth – and his mother would have given him a good clip around the earhole for making such a snap judgement – Louis didn’t strike him as the kind of guy that solely drank beer. He seemed like he was probably partial to the fruity concoctions Ivy often mixed together for their boxer friend, the same ones Luca often indulged in. Something with a little umbrella inside of it. All the same, he tipped the glass and rested it against the tap, his free hand closing around the lever as he slowly pulled the perfect pint.

“Pint of Stella comin’ right up. I’d ask if that was alright with you, but beggars can’t be choosers,” he teased, sliding the glass carefully across the bar.

Kian’s retort melted on his tongue as his cheeks began to flush at Louis’ open admission. So he was flirting, and he appeared just as nervous as Kian. It surprised him, to a degree. The other man was the kind of handsome that somehow perfectly toed the line between genuinely rugged and spends his entire morning working his hair into a tousled, but well manufactured, mess. The Irishman merely assumed that he was batting off the advances of every gender at any given moment. Perhaps he was, perhaps his coyness was just a ploy to get in his pants. He found he didn’t seem to mind, either way.

“Well, I should tell you, I don’t do this often,” he admitted, dipping his head low as he leaned across the bar.

His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, but he wanted to ensure the other man heard it. He could take Kian as he was or not at all, that was his choice. There was no point in pretending he was more forward and experienced than was true.

“But, eh, well. I wouldn’t mind getting to know you. Or – feck it all, I sound a right corny bastard,” he groaned, laughter pouring from him as he met his gaze. Awkwardness seemed to drip from his every crevice, it was a wonder Louis had even so much as spared him a glance to begin with.

"Uh, huh. Louis." the man said, stressing the two syllables that made up his name, hoping his tone came across playful rather than patronising. In comparison, he was sure Kian was always getting his name butchered. He didn't need to complain to the Irishman all about woes of having a fruity, French-sounding name.

"You're already forgiven." Louis said, having melted into something like butter the minute Kian had thrown that wink his way. It wasn't that Louis did badly with men, or women, it was more that for the past few years, he hadn't actually tried. He'd had flirtations, casual sex, gone on a few dates, got so close to a girl he'd almost called his girlfriend before he choked, being labelled a commitmentphobe in the process. Louis used his charm now to talk his way around rooms of writers and publishers, and to get the last red velvet muffin at his favorite bakery. Trying now and having someone (maybe?) flirt back was making Louis feel like a giddy idiot.

Brown eyes levelled to meet Louis' own as the other man leaned over the bar, subconciously mirroring Louis' stance as they both leaned in, noses inches away from one another. A smirk tugged the corner of the American's mouth upward. He was a little older than Louis, but Louis had never minded dating a guy a little older. Not that this was dating... it was a harmless, fun flirtation with an exceptionally hot co-worker of his ex-boyfriend's best friend. Harmless.

"I really like shitty bars." Louis laughed, pulling back in a fluid, accidentally synchronised movement with Kian to gesture at the decor. Well, decor was too kind a word for it. Louis wasn't exactly sure what the owner of The Black Dog had had in mind when it had first been dreamt up, it was dark and kind of hard to get to and most of the time, the bartenders were a sullen sort. Louis was sure he would have hurried past it on a regular day if it hadn't have been for Ivy.

"I know." Louis replied, a small shrug on his shoulders. "You made the impression, not the bar."

Trying not to flush at the casual - albeit adoarably awkward touch - of Kian, he glanced past him to look at the row of glass bottles they had on display. Louis bit his lip, wishing he had an answer on the tip of his tongue. Over the year Louis had tried his hardest to give up many of his vices - cigarettes and alcohol had never quite made the cut. But his tolerance had been lowered, Louis didn't know how he'd ever managed to drink something alcoholic that didn't have an umbrella or a picture of a cartoon fruit on the side.

"Whatever you've got on tap, I guess?" Louis said, fighting to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. He smiled a little, running a hand through his hair as Kian turned his back on him to retrieve a glass, and letting out a long, low breath.

"So," he admitted, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater. "I don't really do this often? Flirt with total strangers."

Biting his bottom lip to suppress a smile, he forged on,

"That's a lie. I do. Just usually not this brazenly."

#thread: louis1 #ft. louis

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alolanrain · 2 years ago

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Ash finds a small wooden box sitting innocently next to his name tag on the large extended table. The other Champions eyed the box as well with confusion as they sat down. Pulling out their files of paperwork for the upcoming three hour long meeting.

Ash set Pikachu down to let the mouse Pokémon get a better sniff. Eyeing the way his long ears bobbed up and down in curiosity before stepping back and facing Ash once more with wide eyes.

“Did...” Ash paused, looking around nervously while sitting down at his designated spot, “did anyone come in earlier and set this here?”

There were mumbles as everyone shook their heads. Even the chairmen that were present looked confused as they were in the room five minutes before the Champions and didn’t even see the ring wooden box.

Reaching out a tentative hand, Ash brought the box closer. Feeling the uneven sides, definitely hand done from scratch as the two bolts keeping the top of the lid close weren’t even the same kind. Instead of a latch to keep the box closed there was a beautiful wax seal instead. An outline of a lunging Piakchu with its head turn to the right with its body pointed to the left was the emblem. Keeping a pressed Morning Glory to the box by the stem.

No doubt the Pikachu symbol would definitely clarify it was for him. No other high end personal even has a Pikachu line on their team. Said Pokémon huddled to his side to get a look at what Ash was staring at. Cooing sweetly and bumping his head against Ash’s jaw.

Ash didn’t want to open it, it was to beautiful and who ever made it definitely took their time, though with the surrounding looks and curiosity the others have they would all pester him until Ash did open the box.

Taking great effort, and snapping at a few people to back off, Ash was able to peel the wax seal off and still have the flower stay in contact. Taking a deep breath and with Pikachu gently nudging him, Ash opened the box.

First thing he saw was a small folded up piece of letter. The paper felt... different, more heavy then normal manufactured paper, which means it was hand made as well. Ash eyes another smaller box sitting next to what looked like earrings and a bar of soap and another silk looking bag.

Opening the paper the note read; blue looks good on you.

Nothing else was on the paper, just the words ‘blue looks good on you’ and nothing else. No signature or other indicator of who put the box next to the name tag. The curly cursive made in gold ink was very pretty and who ever made it even drew a fancy blue Morning Glory with an outline of a Pikachu and Eevee dancing around it. Little darker blue petals that also kinda looked like rain drops swirled around the two drawn Pokémon.

Ash’s mind immediately brought up Gary though he quickly dispelled the thought. Gary was currently in Sinnoh, across the world from where Ash was residing in Kalos for the next two weeks, it was impossible for the brunette.

Serena was the second name to pass his mind. Maybe the girl had come back home from Hoenn and decided to drop something by but once more that would be feat unable to be accomplished. She would have to get by security and would definitely be noticed by the chairmen since they were here before the box magically appeared. Let alone Serena would have to know Ash would be in Kalos and know which building the meeting he was attending would be held in.

Before Ash could worry more Pikachu had tugged on his sleeve. Peering into the box and pulling out the silk bag and handing it to his trainer.

Dumping the content into the bag Ash’s eyebrow raised at the waterium Z Crystal laying innocently in his hand. It was wrapped up in twine in a way that Ash could easily wear it around his neck and or tie it around a belt loop to hang by his side.

Ash passed the crystal over to Lance who made a questioning noise in the back of his throat. The older champion holding the crystal up to the light and humming as Cynthia wordlessly leaned over to take a look as well. He took a mental note that this was probably the first time the two Champions even saw a Z crystal, let alone held one.

He tug out the bar of soap next. Golden in color and with the hexagonal pattern of a Combee and the scent of honey was strong with the after scent of orange blossom. Blue petals, he guaranteed they were also morning glory going by the color themed of the box, were contained in the soap.

“What a peculiar theme,” Alder rumbled across the table, getting everyone’s attention, “blue and gold of all things...”

“Do you have a clue who did this Alder?” Wallace asked. Looking appreciatively at the earnings Ash hadn’t plucked from the box yet. Ash caught the glance and gently pulled the earrings back. Having to wiggle them a little when they got caught on the silk like pillow that made up the bottom of the box instead of the normal shredded paper that usually were used in gifts like theses.

“No.” Alder huffed. “I’m just curious because the combination of blue and gold is a sign of wealth in Unova.”

Ash didn’t even look at them before reaching across the table to hand them over to Wallace, the Hoenn Champion meeting him half way with his longer arms. Sitting back he wordlessly watched the Hoenn Champion admire with a gentle praising look in his eyes.

“Well who ever put these in the box hand made them as well, the soildering to connect a few tiny pieces are off center and...” Wallace paused. Pulling the earrings closer and squinting at the gems that were wrapped in intercut little rods of metal.

“Wallace-“ Diantha spoke up only to be cut off when the male champion suddenly reared back with enough force to almost tilt his chair back.

“Are these blue emeralds!?” He nearly screeched. Tugging the earrings up towards the ceiling and holding them under the fluorescent lights. This action casted a few blue and green spots to scatter a little over a small patch on his cheek.

Wallace’s outburst caused Lance to fling the zcrystal. Luckily Pikachu slid to the middle of the long table and caught it holding it gently in his mouth. The mouse Pokémon glared at Lance who mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Ash who shook his hand and gave a ‘what can we do’ look while nodding to Wallace who was still babbling away.

The collective six chairmen watched the Champions with collective silent amusement. Meeting long since abandoned as they were also unnaturally curious.

Ash opened the smaller box next. Eyes flying wide open at seeing a Mega Stone, one made for a trainer instead of a specific Pokémon, lying in another silk pillow. He wordless showed it off to Diantha who gently took the box out of his hands. Humming and hawing much like Wallace was over the earrings. There was even another note under the box, smaller then the next but the same kind of paper with more words this time.

I gave you just one half of a bond because I know you would like the challenge, I can’t see where to take this present. I know it’ll be great.

Okay so this person knows Ash. That’s obvious but it doesn’t really give any clue to whom it is. He’d never seen any of his friends write in that kind of style of cursive but he can’t really cross them out either since he hasn’t seen the write in cursive before. It could be an admirer in the international league who’s had an eye on him for a while and probably had access to some of the more classified reports.

Though that mostly likely wasn’t it because very few people knew that Ash’s favorite flower was actually morning glory. Only his mother, the oaks, and Dawn knew. Not even Brock or Misty were aware. The only reason Dawn knew was that they stumbled into a large field of morning glory’s after getting separated by Brock. Ash didn’t want to leave quite yet as they got into the middle of the field. Too in awe of the sight.

Just who could be Ash’s admire? And what did they want from him?

#ash ketchum #champion lance #champion diantha #champion alder #champion wallace #champion leon #pokemon cynthia #left it somewhat ambiguous if anyone wants to take a crack and write a part 2 or smthin

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caribooed · 3 years ago

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[cha cha slide voice] reverse!

Freeze! Everybody clap your hands!

Ok so Catwoman Guardian of Gotham was a disaster so I'm taking it into my own hands. Only Bruce and Selina are swapped and Alfred still exists, not. The weird maid lady and Bruce is Not a bloodthirsty murderer

This got Very long so it's under a cut

Selina's parents were murdered by Joe Chill and she vowed to never let anyone feel the same pain she did, hence why she later became Catwoman

Bruce grew up on the streets with his big brother Thomas taking care of them both, but Thomas ended up killing a guy in a mugging and got sent to prison and left Bruce on his own

Catwoman hears about a number of high-profile thefts (museums, aristocrats) springing up and starts trying to track down the cat burglar and ends up interrupting a burglarly from a wealthy woman's penthouse

She chases the burglar down and they have a fight on the rooftops where they kick the everloving shit out of eachother but the burglar throws her off the roof and when she gets back up he's gone

Next night, she attends a charity event and meets an activist and fundraiser by the name of Bruce Wayne and they have a nice chat and hit it off

In the middle of it, a waiter bumps Selina in the side right over where her ribs got cracked from the other night and she doubles over so Bruce helps her out of sight and asks what happened

She tells him she tripped down the stairs of her house but he does Not believe it and ends up sticking by her the rest of the night, at the end of which Selina is like. "He's nice I think" and invites him out for lunch soon

Jump a day or two and Selina runs into the burglar again but this time he's got full body armor and a bat motif and she is Not Happy With This Development

Bruce stole a ton of armor and weaponry from the GCPD and made his own suit because Selina rly messed him up the last time they met

So they fight and Bruce hits her in the side and it floors her and he is like. Wait A Minute, but she recovers and he's forced to run

And then over a period of a month or two, Bruce starts hanging out with Selina in the day (lowkey stalking her to see if his wild theory is right) and while over at her manor he spots a bloodstain on her shirtsleeve from a wound that bled through the bandages she was wearing and when he questions her she says she cut her arm open on a nail accidentally and it's not a big deal but he's just. Hm

Also during this period, Catwoman keeps showing up to stop all of Batman's robberies and he's really getting sick of it because he's been using the money from his stolen goods both to like, feed himself but also to support a gang of homeless kids in the neighborhood he lives in and to help provide food for the local orphanage and it's getting Really Hard To Do That When He Can't Steal Stuff

So basically he knows she's Catwoman and Selina is his friend and he's just. I Have An Idea

Batman starts going out more often just to taunt Catwoman while she's on patrol and he starts going to other rogues like Two-Face and Cobblepit to egg them on and he actively breaks Bane out of prison and the Riddler out of Arkham just to set them loose

He's basically manufacturing a crime wave to try and wear Catwoman out and it's working

She's really exhausted because of all this and every time she has to make an appearance in public she's all tired and struggling to keep it together and Bruce makes a point to be there and to cover for her whenever she's too overwhelmed

Eventually Catwoman gets severely injured during a fight and she's too far from the Cave so, not really having another option, she shows up passed out in Bruce's apartment bleeding out and he's all surprised and helps her and gives her impromptu medical care but never pulls off her mask

Selina wakes up on his couch and he's asleep in a chair he pulled up next to her and she's like :] and leaves him a thank you note before going

So Batman has basically become priority one but he keeps causing so many new problems to spring up that she can't actually go after him while he commits a robbery spree, and every tine she deals with everything else he goes to ground for weeks on end

All the while Bruce is there being Supportive Friend Of The Year and they keep going out to eat and they spend events together and it's Grand

Eventually Bruce asks her out! And she's like. Oh No because while she likes him, she genuinely doesn't know if she can handle being in a relationship at the moment but she doesn't want to say no so she gives a tentative yes and so they're dating

Luckily he is a very understanding man and whenever she has to dip out to be Catwoman or when she's too tired to go out he's all "oh it's fine, I can reschedule" and it's a Very Big Relief

Batman goed to ground after another round of Mess With Catwoman and he stays that way for like three months and she puts all her rogues away so for the first time in a While she has proper free time to spend with Bruce and it's lovely! And shes like. "If this is how our relationship is, I don't want it to end" but because she's Catwoman and she doesn't know that she could hide it from Bruce if they were married and so one night she shows up in his apartment as Catwoman and shows him that she's Selina and he's just "!!!!! Oh that explains a lot, that's really awesome"

He swears he'd never tell anyone about her identity and makes a joke about how because Selina makes herself seem so ditzy at parties, nobody would believe him anyway and so Selina proposes to him the next night and they end up getting married and Bruce moves into the manor ❤️

Unfortunately Batman comes back and he pulls a pro gamer move which involves releasing every inmate from Arkham and Blackgate, including but not limited to her entire rogues gallery

So she's having a Time and literally just can't handle everything and every time she does well against a rogue Batman swoops in out of nowhere to divert her and really it's exhausting and she's working herself to the bone

Eventually she manages to wrangle most of them but the Joker is still on the loose and Batman keeps evading her and she Has Not Slept For Four Nights

While she's in the Cave, Alfred makes a comment about how at night it always gets so nerve wracking, especially since Bruce tends to leave after she does and Alfred is worried he might get caught up in something dangerous considering Batman and the crime wave and Selina is like

"He leaves the house at night??? [wh]" And Alfred gets confused tells her how he can never find Bruce in the manor from around eleven pm to two in the morning so he assumes Bruce goes out to visit friends or to deal with personal business and he tells her abt how he asked Bruce about it and he told Alfred that he and Selina had already talked about it

And Selina is just. "He was lying to you, I had no idea he was going out" which makes her Very Suspicious

She can't Do anything about it because she's trying to track down supercriminals but she checks the manor security feeds and she can't find any trace of Bruce leaving which is Concerning

Basically she ends up finding the Joker and stopping him from bombing the city and he gets sent back to Arkham, but before she can go home Batman shows up and they facedown on the roof

Batman goes all "I really didn't want to do this but you gave me no choice" and then starts trying to kill Selina

He gets a bunch of good stabs in but Selina seems to get the better of him and so he runs and she follows him into an apartment building but loses him in the hallways

She spots a bomb behind one of the doors and realizes the building is about to explode so she gets out of there just before it does and Batman corners her with a gun on a nearby roof

He tries to kill her again but Selina manages to get close and hits the gun away

Batman tries to run but she grabs him by the cape and yanks him back and manages to rip his cowl off before he gets away, at which point she sees that it's Bruce and she's Horrified

And it finally clicks that Batman has been trying to get every other criminal in Gotham to either kill her for him or wear her out so that he can do it himself, which would Also be killing Selina Kyle, and since she doesn't have any other heir, Bruce would get her fortune

And she's all "why would you do all this" and he gets really angry and starts telling her all about the people that aren't as privileged as her and he basically tells her that he wants her money so he can use it to help the people living in the East End and the Narrows, since Selina and the other aristocrats of her stature didn't know the problem like he did and refused to help

So Selina is just baffled that he'd go this far and he apologizes to her genuinely before he tries to kill her one last time because now that she Knows, this is his last chance to get away with the plan

It doesn't work, Selina fights him off and manages to get cuffs on him but he gets away and Selina goes home and Divorces That Man Immediately but also realizes that while he was living with her he'd been stealing things like jewelry she never wore or fancy paintings from rooms nobody ever went into and she is just Not Pleased

But she also allocates a ton of money towards charity projects focused in the more rundown areas of Gotham and actively starts funding all sorts of orphanages, soup kitchens, clinics, etc

She tries to track Bruce down but he's just Gone and so she lets it go even though she's very heartbroken and sad that he tried so hard to kill her

#bat and cat swap #batman #catwoman #dc comics #gaysonlyocean #adobe decrees #tysm rat 🥺

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executivesanitation · 4 years ago

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Portable Toilet Evansville MN

Portable Toilets - What Are They and Why Use One?

The invention of the Portable Toilet Evansville MN has revolutionized the way that people go about their sanitation needs. There are so many different kinds of portable toilets that it can be difficult to know exactly which one is right for you. However, there are a number of things to keep in mind when selecting a toilet. These toilet selections will depend on where you will use them and how often. Choosing a toilet can be an important investment for your business if you want to maximize the safety of your employees and customers.

DescriptionA portable toilet is any kind of toilet which is easily movable, usually by at least one individual, and sometimes by mechanical devices. Most varieties are completely self-sufficient, but do not need any additional services, including sewage disposal. They are also referred to as tin toilets, camping toilets, back or camping toilets, or simply "bell tents." Most modern portable toilets are constructed from materials which are weatherproof and waterproof.

Materials: The traditional portable toilet industry used cast iron, and while it is durable and sturdy, it was also extremely heavy. As a result, many businesses and industries had difficulty affording them. Modern manufacturing techniques, however, have made possible the construction of a wide range of materials. Copper, for example, is often used in high-end portable toilets, although the latest models are typically constructed from plastic, vinyl, or polycarbonate materials.

Porta Potties: Many consumers choose porta potty style portable toilets in their backyard. They are ideal for individuals who enjoy going hiking or camping, and wish to have access to a toilet facility nearby. In order to best utilize your backyard's outdoor septic system, it is important to purchase a unit that can fit into the current plumbing system. This means that you will need to have an in-ground, cast iron or concrete sink installed in order to house the unit, and possibly place a propane gas line from your existing septic system to the holding tank, where you will then connect it to your home or vehicle's sewer system.

Dometic Toilets: A domestic toilet is essentially a toilet tank with a built-in flushing mechanism. Dometic toilets are usually smaller than standard portable toilets and may have a seating of two to five people. The tank itself is about three feet in length and between six and ten inches in diameter, and the flushing mechanism is located between the two tank chambers. Many designs include a five gallon bucket or collection cup.

Camco Portable Toilet: Camco makes two popular styles of dump truck toilets. The Camco Camo Hybrid Garbage Truck Flush System consists of two separate units. The second style, the Camco Ultramax Garbage Truck Flush System, has two bins side-by-side, with each holding a standard five gallon garbage container, as well as a dump basket on top for extra convenience.

Van Life Toilets: Although van life portable toilets do not typically offer the features found in other types of portable toilets, many van owners still prefer them because of their convenience. They come with individual waste bins that sit flush against the bed of the van, rather than taking up space on the floor of the vehicle. They also come with individual waste containers that sit flush against the side of the van, rather than taking up room in the center console or storage compartments of vehicles like sedans. And, they can be operated by either the driver or a push button start, making them very easy to use.

Backyard Portable Toilet: If you have enough space in your backyard, you may want to consider purchasing a portable toilet for your backyards. These can be as simple as a folding camping toilet or can incorporate all sorts of fancy amenities. The best models will incorporate both an outdoor storage compartment and a sealed indoor liner. They are great for families or for entertaining because you won't need to worry about getting the kids to do their business in the back yard, and they will save you some clean up!

#Portable Toilet Evansville MN

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capricornus-rex · 5 years ago

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A Test of Wills (2)

Requested by Anon. Prompt:

What about...Cal x reader fic, getting stuck on Jakku because the Mantis needs repairs?

Cal Kestis x Reader

Part 1 | Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of ?

The door lowered itself to open and the planet presented itself to you. The Mantis has landed in the outskirts of the settlement—and perhaps in a safe distance away from that particular settlement in case the locals weren’t too friendly.

The trek roughly took an hour to travel by foot. Next thing you know, you and Cal were already standing by the arch that bore the place’s name.

Niima Outpost.

The sights and the sounds gave you an idea of what life in this place looks like.

Lightweight speeders and ferries come in droves, the drivers carrying out loads of parts—treating them just as carefully as actual smuggler’s bounty—and all of these junk traders gravitate towards the biggest tent resting in the center of the settlement.

It doesn’t take a genius that majority—if not all—of these people are scavengers. The real question is where they are finding their bounties.

“Get ‘yer own loot!” a Sullustan growled at Cal while he hauled a sled filled with scraps.

“Sorry, I was just looking,” Cal scoffed.

He turned to face front before speaking, “It’s almost like Bracca in here.”

“There a difference?”

“Well, there doesn’t seem to be any rain in here,”

There were a few ruffians here and there, a few benevolent dwellers sprinkled into the population—the ones who just go about their business and avoid trouble when they could—you place yourself in the latter category. Keeping your cowls low, you and Cal make your way towards the cluster of tents.

“Where do you think we can get the best parts?” Cal muttered within your earshot.

“I don’t know, but I guess we can keep looking,”

“Okay…”

The two of you fanned out, covering more ground and merchandise instead of sticking together. As you passed and stopped by the tents, the peddlers implored you to buy their scavenged parts. Cal, on the other hand, decided to get intel whilst window shopping. He stopped at one of the tents that sold a certain array of parts, he looked around until the merchant in charge of the booth arrives.

Much to his surprise, he meets the merchant—an Abednedo, the same species as Prauf.

“I used to scrap things like these before,” he said while studying what appears to be a central processing unit board, he looked the part of an interested buyer as he weighed it on his hands. “Where do you get them?”

“Most of these are the fruits of my labor. Some others here are ones I’ve traded with the bunch o’ riffraff that come here,”

“Oh, I see,”

There was a pause between the exchange. Suddenly, Cal’s memories caught him off-guard. He remembers the last thing that Prauf told him: to get out and see the galaxy. Well, now he’s doing it.

“Kiddo, hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he muttered. “Just remembered a friend.”

The Abednedo nodded and gestured over his wares, advertising some more to Cal.

“I wager you have some emergency power cells for the ship I’m in,”

“Well, that depends on what kind of ship you’re talking about,”

“An S-161 Stinger XL,”

Cal added the other parts that they needed—the hyperspace compressor as well as enough tanks of fuel that could cover the distance between Jakku and the Core World systems.

The merchant adjusts himself on his seat, thoroughly intrigued by the mention of the Mantis’s manufacture name, “Well now, that’s a fancy ship for a kid like you to be in—and here in this middle o’ nowhere planet too!”

“Do you have them?” Cal pressed.

Even with its small mouth, the Abednedo’s expression took a dramatic shift. Suddenly, his laidback demeanor became stiff and wary, his small eyes looked left and right, and then he leaned over his table so that his words would only be in Cal’s earshot.

“Listen, the stuff in your shopping list is something we vendors combined can’t cover—even if we take to the best trader that might come here,”

“So what can you suggest?”

“See that big tent over there?”

Cal looked over to his shoulder and saw the exact same tent that he and you first noticed when you set foot into this outpost. When he turned back to the merchant, he got a more elaborate explanation.

“That’s the best place you’re going to get your parts. They’ll accept Republic credits—if you have any on you—but getting them will be tough,”

“How so?”

“A blob with two legs—goes by Unkar Plutt—holds up an event of some kind every two weeks. You name it: auction, gamble—a game of Sabacc or Dejarik, whatever—and even fight club. I heard that there will be an event tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow,” Cal echoed. “Which of the three?”

“He didn’t say; or at least word hasn’t come out yet,”

Cal and the merchant exchanged nods. To throw off any suspicion, Cal bought the only mint power cell the Abednedo had. He also slid a single silver bar of Republic credit on the table for the intel. He leaves the tent and comes looking for you; he finds you studying a bunch of auxiliary power cells and compressors sold by an old vendor. Cal stops dead in his tracks, he looks at you from afar, and watches you converse with the peddler—you were sweetly smiling back at the vendor, even lending an ear to some stories that she felt compelled to tell you, and by the grace of your kindness, you stayed to listen before you could pay what you’ve taken.

The old and kindly lady-vendor gave a weak squeeze on your hand when she saw that you have given some excess in the payment—which you insisted she keep. Cal smiled to himself while keeping his eyes on you, still studying your hauls for today. He thinks that your endearing nature seems to persist even in an unforgiving setting such as this planet.

You look to your front and see Cal walking up to you with a smile.

“Why are you smiling?” you curiously asked.

He shakes his head but his smile stretched a few inches more, “Nothing. What’d you get there?”

“Something we might need in the future. This,” you hold up the part in your hand to show Cal, “Is a compact auxiliary power battery. It may be small but can power up a ship as big as the Mantis or perhaps a Corellian freighter.”

“You know your parts, huh?”

“I met a good scrapper,” you winked.

“Is he good-looking too?”

You pursed your lips, tipped your head sideways and shrugged, “Most likely.”

Cal lets you in on the intel that he’s gathered from the Abednedo merchant—everything that he’s learned from start to finish. You conclude that there shouldn’t be any harm in just checking it out.

Both of you marched towards the biggest tent in the center of the settlement. Brushing past a couple of dwellers who were in the middle of a brawl because one of them apparently cut in line. Seconds later, a group of uniformed individuals entered the scene and broke off the fight, they had weapons on them too, and the fact that they were pointing it at the brawlers’ faces were enough for them to stand down.

Neither of you maintained eye contact and didn’t look long at the scenario—you continued your unassuming trader charade.

“You Unkar Plutt?” Cal abruptly spoke to the squelching blob that had its back turned to the window.

The creature in charge was a huge gob of pink, moist flesh. A pair of small eyes between a wide nose and a small mouth filled with tiny but sharp, yellow teeth. Neither of you jumped at the sight of him; but mentally, both of you agreed that he was definitely ugly… and rancid.

Cal did the talking. After all, he is the scrapper between the two of you.

“So what if I am?” he grumbled.

“What’s tomorrow’s main event?”

Unkar didn’t seem to be impressed that a pair of new faces have caught wind about the events he holds for the best prizes in his stronghold. He planted his pudgy fist on the table and leaned closer to the grated window that separated him from Cal.

“I don’t think you can take what you’re getting yourself into,”

“Oh, trust me—I’ve had worse,”

The Blobfish—as most scavengers call him—chuckled sinisterly, unknowingly underestimating Cal.

“At dawn. You win; you name your boon. That’s all I could tell ya,”

“Do we get like a schedule or a sign-up list or whatever?”

“At dawn, boy. At my shipyard out there,” he snarled.

“Thanks. We’ll be in touch,”

You and Cal pace away from the window, he starts to whisper his ideas to your ear—but in your periphery, some of the thugs had their eye on you, even while you were still speaking with Unkar, you take Cal by the arm and exit the tent, away from prying eyes and ears.

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indiantent · 4 years ago

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Indian Tent Manufacturer

Indian Tent Manufacturer, as the very name of our company, suggests we are tent manufacturers, producing all types of tents ranging from garden tents, party tents, Luxury Indian Tent. We are here to meet the needs and demands of the organizers and hotel organizers. Our collection of tents is available in many designs, colors, materials, sizes, prints, and customers can choose from a complete range as per their choice. All states display the different culture and traditional marriage is now popular due to the old culture. Royal Indian Tent decorations for rental services and export materials. There are wedding tents in octagonal, hexagonal, and pentagonal sizes. The wedding party supplies the tent for event companies and exports from India to the event that organized the luxury wedding function. Ceremonies, fancy tent rings for luxury wedding tents and function, look gorgeous on parties and important occasions.

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krystalreverb · 4 years ago

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Tomorrow, Tomorrow (Fic Preview #3)

“All these years, and I’ve never seen you in anything but an Academy uniform or a suit and tie. It’s a bit unfair, isn’t it? I’m not unaware of how I look, Hubert. Scarred, broken, put back together again like an old rag doll. I’m an ugly old monster. But I’m comfortable this way, not because of how I look but because here, in this room, I don’t have all of society’s pressures weighing on me telling me how I should look at all times. I feel free here. I want that same sort of freedom for you, Hubert. If we’re going to share our little cottage, we shouldn’t have this kind of shyness between us.” She turned over onto her stomach, letting her chin rest in Hubert’s lap. “Come on, indulge me, you big grumpy grump.” She reached up and pinched his cheek, and Hubert jerked his head away.

“Fine, but only because you asked me. I cannot deny you anything, it seems.” Hubert gently moved her off his lap, then stood, knocked back a shot of Edelgard’s fancy Almyran brandy to steel his nerves, and took off his jacket, hanging it on the back of Edelgard’s desk chair. “And, to be perfectly clear… you don’t look like an old rag doll to me, milady. You will always be the shimmering jewel of the Empire, polished to gleam in the sun. You are not a monster, you are a Queen.” He took off his outer vest, folding it neatly and placing it on Edelgard’s chair beside his jacket. He took off his tie, hanging it with his jacket over the back of the chair. Then, his shirt went, and with it his undershirt, folded neatly and placed atop his vest on the seat of the chair.

Hubert had an average build for a man his height. He had the build of a man who spent more time studying spellbooks than weapons training, but he wasn’t a little waif, nor was he particularly skeletal, despite what his face may have suggested. He did work out occasionally. Usually, only when he had to for mission training, but he knew his way around a training course. He knew his way around a lance, too, just in case his dark magic didn’t or couldn’t do its job.

“Your scars do not make you broken, milady.” Hubert continued, leaning backwards on the desk to kick his leg up so he could remove his boots, one by one. “Your scars are not your fault. They have never been your fault, and they didn’t break you then, so how could they possibly break you now?”

“Hubert…” Edelgard murmured.

“And you are not broken, nor are you ugly. You’re as magnificent as a bird of prey, soaring the skies high above us.” He removed his trousers, and folded them neatly, placing them atop his shirts. “I hope this is sufficient. Please, pardon me. I wish to still garner some image in my head of propriety.” Hubert’s face flushed, standing there stiffly in his underwear. Simple black standard-issue military briefs, for those who were wondering. “Either that or I’m going to need more of that.” He gestured weakly to the half-empty bottle of brandy. `

“Drink to your heart’s content. I’ll just pick up another bottle while we’re traveling.” Edelgard teased, and Hubert flushed to the tips of his ears under her eyes, half-lidded as she looked at him, pleased with her servant’s willing response to her suggestion. Her eyes almost looked hungry, like a wildcat, ready to strike. She wanted to see all of him, from his head to his toes, and as her vassal, he was bound to her will. He reached for the bottle of brandy, upended it into his mouth unceremoniously, and took a large gulp to get it all down. Once the alcohol hit his stomach and fizzed there, he coughed into his fist at the taste. Then, before he could change his mind and flee, he stripped off his smallclothes and tossed them to the side. There he was, in all his glory, just a man. No longer the servant, the protector, the guardian… now just a man. And he felt so strange, standing there under her lilac gaze. He’d never been nude in front of her, it wouldn’t have been proper. But somehow, through all the alcohol coursing through his veins and the intoxicating sound of her laughter, she had managed to coerce him. And his body was not unreactive to their situation, and Edelgard’s eyes twinkled with some sort of mischief as Hubert desperately thought of anything he could, any grisly sight he’d ever seen, just to keep the blood in his brain where it belonged.

“There we are. So much more free, isn’t it?” Edelgard purred.

“Speak for yourself. I feel horribly exposed. This is humiliating. At least let me put my trousers back on.” Hubert tried to protest, but Edelgard only laughed. Giggled, really, a beautiful and playful sound.

“Sit with me, Hubert. Come here.”

Hubert looked at her, eyeing her up and down curiously. He stepped forward, and Edelgard slung her arms around his hips and pulled him down to sit beside her on the bed. For a brief moment, his groin brushed ever-so-gently against her arms, and Hubert sucked in a gulp of air as he landed.

“See? Now just feel the sheets on your skin. Isn’t it nice?”

Hubert reached down and took the material between his fingers experimentally, as though it might bite him if handed too roughly. It was fine silk, manufactured in the Alliance but with silk imported from Adrestia. The finest silk money could buy, in a beautiful crimson. And it djd feel quite nice against his legs. Still, he was terribly uncomfortable, and this sort of impropriety could have been met with a death sentence should anyone find out. Still, she held him, her arms slung around his waist, and she used the leverage of his hips to pull herself into his lap, laying atop him as if laying on a fine silken couch. Hubert’s breath hitched, ever so slightly as she straddled him, spreading her arms wide as if to embrace all of him at once. His arms snaked under hers to hold her, and somehow, his hands lost contact with his brain and began to move autonomously, running up and down her spine gently. She shivered, and her hips twitched, and Hubert would only realize much later that she was flushed from her nose to her chest, and her gaze looked far more prurient than pure.

“Mmm… see, Hubert? They call you cold-blooded, but you’re so warm…” She snuggled up into his lap, and he was pushed backwards, and she curled up on his chest and stayed there, sleepy and soft. Hubert’s hands found purchase on her waist, and she embraced him with all the drunken, sleepy love in the world. A warm embrace. He could feel her heart beating in tune alongside his own. “Hold me, Hubert. Prove to me you’re real.” She murmured, and they laid there together, arms locked around each other, dizzy and spinning in euphoria.

The alcohol finally hitting them both, Edelgard looked up at Hubert with all the sadness in the world behind her eyes, but also all the hope. She stretched towards him, as though her lips might have met his, in a better world. Heh. A better world... “Hubert…?”

“Yes, milady?”

“Mmph…” And Edelgard promptly passed out cold in Hubert’s arms. Hubert could barely keep his own eyes open; the room was spinning and his head felt like someone had hit him with a brick. He passed out beneath her, barely managing to wrap them both up in blankets before unconsciousness took him.

The sunlight peeking in through the windows roused them both from sleep in a rude manner. Hubert tried to open his eyes, and failed, squeezing them shut again as pain shot through his forehead and his temples throbbed as though he were a billet of iron being pounded into a sword by a particularly vicious blacksmith. Edelgard moaned in pain next to him, and he jumped.

“Oh… my goodness… I must have passed out.” Edelgard said weakly, holding her skull with both hands. Hubert managed to sit up, his eyes squeezed shut, and as the duvet slid down, he found, quite shockingly, that he seemed to be in the nude. Beyond that, he had a rather irritating and embarrassing case of morning wood; and not a case that seemed likely to fade any time soon, not if Edelgard kept on being nude herself. Wait. What?

It took a few seconds for Hubert to open his eyes and realize that he was not in his own quarters. The sheer crimson canopy and silk sheets were a dead giveaway. He looked over at Edelgard, who was now sitting up and rubbing her temples with bloodshot eyes. The empty bottle of Almyran brandy sat imposingly on the desk, displaying the label of 65% alcohol mockingly in his direction.

Suddenly, Hubert’s mind was racing. No. No, no. You did not! You did not! You are the head of House Vestra! How dare you deign to even-- how bloody dare--you fool!

“Hubert? Are you quite alright? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” Edelgard looked up at him, pale and slightly green from nausea, red rings around his eyes and a sheen of sweat making him just slightly glisten in the sunlight flowing in through the window. His bloodshot golden-green eyes fixated on her, as if shocked that she was still there, that she didn’t flee at the sight of a naked, painfully erect man in her bed, and why was he nude now? He bunched up the sheets in his fists and covered his groin, his cheeks flushing red. He looked around again; they were still clearly in Edelgard’s bedchamber, with her massive four-poster bed with its crimson canopy and curtains that filtered the sunlight oozing in into a bright haze that pierced their eyes like neon arrows.

“Was I… in here… all night?” Hubert asked tentatively.

“Well… I assume. You were here from as far as I can remember… and you’re here now.” Edelgard mumbled, her eyes squeezed shut against the streaming sunlight from the window. She seemed to not notice his erection. Good. Good.

“...Where are my trousers?”

“What?”

“My trousers, Edelgard. Why don’t I have them?” Hubert sounded frantic as he looked around the room.

“Oh, that! Mm, I was quite drunk, asking you to take off your clothes was really a bit of a mistake on my part, I do apologize for that. Um, your clothes are on the chair. You put them there after I asked you to get naked with me. That’s about all I can remember. After that I think I blacked out.” Edelgard gestured to her desk chair, and Hubert managed to drag his body upright and get out of bed.

Hubert quickly put his clothes back on (he couldn’t find his underwear, but it mattered little), and pulled Edelgard’s clothes from her drawers. He kept his back carefully turned to her, deliberately going about the room so as to avoid looking into her eyes. His face was burning. How? How could he face her after such an offense? Even if she didn’t look very offended at all. In fact, she looked as though she were the one who had done something wrong. A frown doesn’t suit her. He thought.

“Hubert?”

“Yes, milady?”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t trying to.”

“It’s not a problem, milady, don’t worry about it.” Hubert tried to say, but Edelgard sighed.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Edelgard asked, pulling Hubert’s head so he was facing her. “Nothing happened, Hubert. We’d know if it had.”

“Would we, though?” Hubert asked breathily, almost in a whisper. “Would we know? We were both sloshed, Your Majesty. We were drinking all day. I have such a headache that I barely remember my own name right now, let alone what I did last night. What if I did...something to you? What if I hurt you? Gods, if I hurt you… I’d throw myself upon the sword.”

#will they wont they #tomorrow tomorrow #fire emblem #three houses #edelbert #fic preview #i am black eagles trash #watch them get rip-roaringly drunk and not remember the night before #yes good

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aliaparker3 · 1 year ago

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How to Make Cheap Tents in NZ More Affordable

Introduction:

Research and Compare Prices:

Consider Second-Hand Tents:

Opt for Basic Features:

Size Appropriately:

Look for Seasonal Sales:

Buy Bundled Packages:

Take Care of Your Tent:

Conclusion:

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songsandsorcery · 4 years ago

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Gnomish Contributions to Carnival Culture

Presented by Intamin Diveroll, Darkmoon Designeer, at the Gnomish Cultural Exchange

Intamin holds a holo-tablet in his hands, a curious contraption of Mechagonian design. Held on either side by conduit rods that emit a solid screen of arcane light. He regards the small crowd with a personable smile that turns up the corners of his mustache, optics alight with an intelligent warmth.

“Greetings and salutations my curious crowd! I am Intamin Diveroll, a Designeer with the Darkmoon Faire that specializes in the construction of amusement rides. Today I will be speaking on the importance of Gnomish contributions to carnival culture. From fried-fare to roaring roller coasters, our astute kin have more than played their part on the midway!”

“I will preface my lecture with a history lesson of sorts. The Darkmoon Faire operated as a traveling fixture up until recently, boasting only minor offerings such as shooting galleries, exotic vendors, and the infamous Darkmoon cannon. Gnomish contributions were far-flung if not for the nation’s propensity for isolation, given the state of affairs in Gnomeregan that had caused them to retreat from contact with the outside world.”

“It is only with the opening of Darkmoon Island that the world was granted the opportunity to view the important hand that Gnomish engineering played in the Faire. Not only had a great many Gnomish refugees fled to the faire to start their life anew …”

The holo-tablet in Intamin’s hands emits a beam of light that solidifies into a blue grid. The altitude lines rise and fall, forming the shape of Darkmoon Island. A rough timeline of the Faire’s history begins to play, documenting the construction of tents, pavilions, games, and even the Gryvern roller coaster itself!

“… but a static location meant that more resources could be invested into permanent structures with the express purpose of amusing the masses! Gnomish culture was allowed to thrive in an environment that encouraged creative thinking, meaning that many carnival mainstays can be attributed to the Gnomish people!”

“For example, we owe one of the most popular pieces of carnival cuisine to the Gnomish people. Gnomish pursuits in the world of food are marked as being infamously experimental. It was through tireless trial and error that the world was introduced to the world of Gnomish confections. That’s right, my friends: it was the gnomes that gave us candy!”

The simulation playing before Intamin begins to shift, this time depicting a machine of gnomish design. A shallow bowl atop the contraption is powered by a box beneath, feeding into a whirling head and accompanying heater that was shown to melt sugar and spin it into fluffy, colorful strands.

“While our goblin fellows may have enlightened us to the marvelous invention of the deep frier, it was gnomes that perfected the invention of the fairy floss machine! These curious contraptions are able to spin sugar into wispy strands, often served on a stick! Yet we’ve breached only the tip of the iceberg, as the gnomes also brought us versicolor treats, ice-cream, and other such sugary snacks!”

“But alas, I could fill a whole lecture with such a topic. I would like to follow-up with quite a curious fact: did you know that many carnival games are often misattributed to gnomes? It’s true, my friends! In reality, our friends the goblins are the masterminds behind many of these midway masterpieces. A cultural love for gambling is perhaps to blame, but I digress …”

“While goblins may have given us the games, it is the gnomes that outfit them with all manner of prizes to be won by the adoring public! Chief among their contributions are Gnomish wind-ups, clockwork toys that resemble a variety of vehicles and animals, like-so …”

The form of a wind-up ship forms itself before Intamin, glimmering a faint arcane blue before it solidifies. The clockwork vessel putters before the mechagnome, puffing out clouds of simulated steam and firing off a round of illusionary pellets into the crowd, which harmlessly fade before making impact.

“While food, games, and prizes are quite fancy indeed, the Darkmoon Faire distinguishes itself from a simple circus by offering only the biggest and baddest of attractions. I am, of course, referring to the one, the only, the Gryvern roller coaster!”

“Roller coasters in particular can trace their roots back to both goblin and gnomish methods of transportation. Goblin roller coasters primarily operate on a wide track with sit-down rocket trains, repelled above the track with a set of thrusters and following a route that is pre-programmed into the rocket itself. A popular example of such a design is the Azshara Rocketway.”

An overview of Azshara is projected from the holo-tablet in Intamin’s hands, giving a birds-eye view of a long rocket track that snakes across the peninsula. With a pinch of the screen he zooms onto a rocket that zips along the track, stopping at multiple waystations to ensure safe passage throughout the treacherous landscape.

“Gnomish roller coasters favor an inverted design with wide trains suspended below a track. The tracks themselves are hollow to both save on material costs and remain lightweight. These hollow tracks are what give Gnomish coasters, and the Deeprun Tram, its distinctive roar! This can be muffled by filling the tracks with sand.”

A wipe of the screen reveals a simulated depiction of the Deeprun Tram, which is quickly deconstructed with a few taps of the mechagnome’s fingers. He twists the tracks into sharp corkscrews and loops, all the while maintaining that inverted track and showing the evolution from transportation to thrill-machine.

“The Gryvern represents a marriage of goblin and gnomish contributions to roller coaster technology, touting a lightweight, track structure popularized by gnomish engineers and sit-down trains emblematic of goblin designs. It is, in a way, a cultural exchange itself!”

“But, alas, creating amusements for the world at large presents itself a myriad of engineering problems. This is where Azerothian ergonomics come in. In layman’s terms, this field of study refers to the following: how well can an individual of a particular race access this particular thing?”

A tap summons the train zipping across the simulated track to the forefront. A pinch and pull of the fingers sends the train blasting apart, revealing all manner of safety restraints for every race under the sun. Collapsible seating to accommodate quadrupedal riders, silicone restraint cuffs especially for tails, and even horn-muffs to protect tauren riders!

“This is an exceedingly crucial aspect of roller coaster design! When constructing a train, one must ask themselves many questions! For example, how do you accommodate riders with digitigrade legs, or even riders with tails? What about quadrupedal races like centaur, or even limbless races like naga? So many decisions, and that is not even to account for g-forces!”

“A roller coaster is capable of exerting massive g-forces on its rider with any amount of inversions, dives, and other such ride elements. While constructing these amusements us Designeers toe that careful line of keeping our riders thrilled, yet comfortable. Think of it this way: g-forces that could prove exciting for a tauren could potentially kill a gnome.”

“As you can see, while the Faire may be all fun and games, working behind the scenes proves to be both a stimulating and challenging venture! To believe that I have just barely scratched the surface of exploring the fascinating world of manufactured amusements … !”

“It is with all this said that I now conclude my lecture. I do hope that, should you find yourself on Darkmoon, that you will thank your Gnomish friends for all they have contributed to keeping the carnival the happiest place on Azeroth! Should no inquiries present themselves for my observation, I wish you all a most-wonderful rest of the festival.”

#moon guard #world of warcraft #intamin diveroll #the darkmoon faire

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engangsservice · 4 years ago

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Plates for Weddings

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aubreestreich81-blog · 5 years ago

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The Finest Tactics to Enhance Your Business With Inflatables

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finnanbeaton · 5 years ago

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Worldbuilding questions! In your world... Is the economy currency based or based on bartering physical goods? What is most valuable? What is least? | What do dwellings typically look like? What materials are usually used in their construction? Are there stylistic features common among structures? | What is the typical wardrobe like? Colourful or dull? Fancy or functional? Warm or light?

This got super long, so there’s now a read more

~Is the Economy Currency Based or based on Bartering?

a) It depends on location and access. In the Spindle ‘Verse, there are several major economies that happen simultaneously. The major economy that’s is the evolution of our current model of currency but has switched to an entire electronic method. You have your legal methods and your illegal methods of transferring money between people. The legal method is determined based on your UBI which all citizens have once a spindle is installed and they’ve reached the age of sixteen. Citizens can apply for work programs, university education, and internships once they’ve finished schooling but the numbers for each are limited. Each Megalopolis have their own numbers for what positions and jobs are available at any given time. Spindles work as a biometric tag, an identification, access to the internet, access to the government, complete health history. Everything is collated and transferred via the Spindle. Money is no longer physically necessary because those who wish to purchase things, can either purchase them from the net, or if they would like to go to a local store walk in and walk out with their items the system debiting their bank accounts upon leave. However, this hasn’t stopped people from referring to money, the general term used is Coin.

However, to get around these limitations and to have funds available or necessary items not provided by UBI or other means, bartering has sprung up in many places. Most notably you’ll find bartering systems in the old Waterfront, and inside the Weeds. The tent cities that pop up around the waterfront are strictly prohibited from using any forms of currency, they’re given only so much and access so Spindles are limited to citizens only.

That being said, economies spring up where they need to and use whatever they have on hand. Bartering is one of the easiest forms of trade, whether in physical goods or in skill. Pop ups are very common where noncoms open up quick pop markets, for exchange skills (repair services, health services, etc), textiles are very popular.

The Weeds has done something similar with markets and bartering. When the Havens started enforcing limits on jobs and businesses that could be opened they stopped requesting and opened stalls on the street. In the beginning the police tried to quell the markets, claiming they opened up to black market items and illegal goods, but the markets kept on coming and the people fought back. In order to keep the peace the markets were allowed to stay.

Off Comms deal with their economy an even different way, dealing with both currency and bartering systems as necessary. Most OffComms are socialist communes where no one person owns one thing. Things within the public domain are kept there and everyone has access. Fair compensation is given for goods and things like food and shelter are provided and obtained as a collective. It’s not a perfect system and there are things that need to be worked out and communication between everyone is necessary to keep it functioning but so far so good.

~What is Most Valuable/What is Least?

a) Skill sets are one of the most valuable commodity among bartering econs. Textiles, repair services, gardening, cooking, art pieces, jewelry making. All of these have great value within the market because they’re often unique and can be traded one to one. Someone who is very good at carpentry or repair work can barter their services to fix someone’s home for clothing, or for food items not provided or difficult to obtain fresh. In the Weeds, actual money, is useless unless being used one of the registered businesses and you can’t get anything without a spindle anywhere else.

~What do dwellings typically look like? What materials are usually used in their construction? Are there stylistic features common among structures?

a) Homes in the Havens are tall, towering skyscrapers and super sleek apartments. They’re hyper green, with aesthetically pleasing gardens cascading artfully over balconies. It’s full of shining white concrete and sleek metals, tasteful and appropriate flowers and trees. The Havens has all the money, or a lot of it and all the government. And all the control. It’s home of the Spindle, main offices of SpOre and has the largest space cargo hubs in North America. The next largest is in South America in Caracas Venezuela.

The Hub’s location in the Havens is relatively. Following the events of the L_1_Virus outbreak in the 2070s the old system was scratched and a new one was built in the Havens in the early 2080s.

The Havens is a poster child, set up to be photographed and looked at from afar. Not many have the clearance or status to enter the main part of the city except on certain holidays and events.

The Weeds, when it was known as the Garden had much the same infrastructure but overtime and through shitty government handling building in the Garden took on a life of its own until SpOre under the instruction of the Government and with the help of the Spindles to corral growth. (This was much longer and included but I lost all of it because tumblr if you’re interested in the really shitty government handlings and the fact that Canada as we know it doesn’t exist anymore -- neither does the US mind you, I can go into more detail in a separate post)

Materials are pretty simple and prefab within the Weeds and even objects are simple and come with AR enabled options so that people customize their homes based on their spindles not wht’s actually present.

~What is the typical wardrobe like? Colourful or dull? Fancy or functional? Warm or light?

I am going full cyberpunk cliche with the clothing styles, sleek and form fitting with clean lines, or leather and lots of buckles. Think sci fi anime and blade runner had a really well dressed baby. Colours are generally dark greys but that’s to enable the smart coding for the spindles to read the styles. People can change their styles and their clothes on a whim and purchase sets electronically.

There are other ways clothing is produced, and see above with the economy, cloth, weaving, and other forms of textile manufacture are still carried out and done. Some is boutique and sells for ridiculous sums in the Havens. (I have yet to determine the giagantic question of where are the sheep, but this is humanity and I’m just going to say we’ve found a way, and you’re just as likely to see a goat wandering down the streets in the weeds as a cat.

#quilloftheclouds #worldbuilding questions #writeblr #spindle:wip #finn asks

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