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elitelimoli · 4 months

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Experience the Pinnacle of Comfort and Luxury with Elite Limo LI’s Private Car Service on Long Island

Long Island, a picturesque haven stretching from the vibrant cityscape of New York City to the serene beaches of Montauk, is best experienced in style and comfort. For those seeking a premium travel experience, Elite Limo LI’s private car service offers unparalleled luxury, convenience, and reliability. Here’s an in-depth look at what makes our private car service the ultimate choice for discerning travelers on Long Island.

Unmatched Luxury and Comfort

At Elite Limo LI, we understand that luxury is about more than just a ride—it’s about the experience. Our fleet of vehicles is meticulously maintained and features a selection of high-end models to suit every preference. Whether you choose a sleek sedan, a spacious SUV, or a sophisticated limousine, you can expect plush interiors, cutting-edge amenities, and an immaculate presentation. Every ride with Elite Limo LI promises a sanctuary of comfort, allowing you to relax and enjoy the journey.

Professional Chauffeurs

Our chauffeurs are more than just drivers; they are ambassadors of our commitment to excellence. Each chauffeur undergoes rigorous training to ensure they deliver the highest standards of service. Punctuality, discretion, and courtesy are the hallmarks of our team. With extensive knowledge of Long Island’s roads and traffic patterns, our chauffeurs ensure a smooth and efficient journey, whether you’re heading to a business meeting, a special event, or exploring the island’s attractions.

Personalized Service

We pride ourselves on offering personalized service tailored to meet your specific needs. From the moment you book with Elite Limo LI, our team works diligently to accommodate your preferences and requirements. Need a specific vehicle? Have special requests for amenities or stops along the way? Our team is dedicated to ensuring your complete satisfaction. We offer 24/7 customer support to assist with any changes or special requests, providing a seamless and stress-free experience.

Versatile Transportation Solutions

Elite Limo LI’s private car service is ideal for a wide range of occasions and purposes:

Airport Transfers: Begin or end your journey with a hassle-free airport transfer. We serve all major airports in the New York City area, including JFK, LaGuardia, and Newark, ensuring timely pickups and drop-offs.

Corporate Travel: Impress clients and colleagues with our executive car service. Arrive at meetings, conferences, and corporate events in style and on time.

Special Occasions: From weddings and proms to anniversaries and birthday celebrations, make your special moments even more memorable with our elegant transportation options.

Wine Tours: Explore Long Island’s renowned North Fork wine country with our customized wine tour packages. Enjoy the region’s best vineyards without worrying about driving.

Sightseeing and Leisure: Discover the beauty and attractions of Long Island with a private tour. Whether it’s the historic landmarks of Sag Harbor, the beaches of the Hamptons, or the charm of Port Jefferson, our chauffeurs will guide you to the best spots.

Safety and Reliability

Your safety is our top priority. Our vehicles are equipped with the latest safety features and undergo regular maintenance checks to ensure optimal performance. Our chauffeurs adhere to all safety regulations and best practices, providing a secure and reliable journey. Additionally, we utilize real-time traffic monitoring and GPS tracking to avoid delays and ensure timely arrivals.

Easy Booking and Transparent Pricing

Booking with Elite Limo LI is simple and convenient. Our user-friendly online reservation system allows you to book your ride in just a few clicks. Alternatively, our customer service team is always available to assist with reservations over the phone. We offer transparent pricing with no hidden fees, so you can plan your travel budget with confidence.

Experience the Elite Difference

When you choose Elite Limo LI’s private car service, you’re choosing a commitment to excellence in every aspect of your journey. From luxurious vehicles and professional chauffeurs to personalized service and a focus on safety, we strive to exceed your expectations. Discover the elite difference and elevate your travel experience on Long Island. Book your private car service today and experience the pinnacle of comfort and luxury.

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jamiepicon · 1 year

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Did They Eat Pasta in Medieval Times?

When one envisions medieval times, images of knights, castles, and feudal societies come to mind. However, one might wonder about the culinary landscape of this era. Did medieval European inhabitants indulge in pasta dishes like we do today? The answer is more complex than a simple yes or no, as the history of pasta and its presence in medieval times is intriguing and multifaceted.

Early Origins of Pasta

The origins of pasta can be traced back to ancient civilizations, long before medieval times. The ancient Greeks and Romans consumed early forms of pasta-like dishes. These dishes consisted of dough made from wheat flour and water, which were then shaped and cooked. While not identical to the pasta we know today, these early iterations laid the foundation for the culinary evolution of pasta.

The Medieval European Diet

Medieval Europe was characterized by its agrarian society, where most of the population relied heavily on farming and agriculture for sustenance. The staple foods of this era were grains such as wheat, barley, and rye. The bread was a fundamental part of the medieval European diet, serving as a source of energy and nourishment.

The Advent of Pasta-Like Dishes

During the medieval period, there was evidence of dishes that resembled pasta in specific ways. However, it's important to note that these dishes differed from today's pasta. One such dish was "Lombard pasta," made from fermented dough cooked and flavored with various ingredients. While not identical to modern pasta, these early dishes demonstrated a similar concept of using dough as a base ingredient.

Arab Influence and Culinary Exchange

Trade and cultural exchanges facilitated the spread of culinary knowledge and techniques. The Arab world, known for its advanced agricultural practices, significantly introduced various ingredients to medieval Europe. Among these ingredients were durum wheat and techniques for creating dried pasta. With its high gluten content, Durum wheat was particularly well-suited for making pasta that could be dried and stored for long periods.

Noodles in the Mediterranean

During the medieval period, dried noodles made from durum wheat began to appear in the Mediterranean region. These noodles, similar to what we now know as pasta, were well-suited for long voyages and provided a convenient source of sustenance for sailors and travelers. For instance, the port city of Genoa became a hub for producing and exporting dried pasta.

Pasta's Evolution and Regional Variations

While pasta-like dishes were becoming more prevalent in parts of medieval Europe, the ingredients, shapes, and preparations varied widely by region. The concept of pasta continued to evolve, adapting to the available ingredients and culinary preferences of different areas. As a result, various parts developed their unique pasta dishes that reflected their cultural heritage and available resources.

So, did they eat pasta in medieval times? The answer is a nuanced one. While pasta, as we know it today, may not have been precisely the same during the medieval era, there were undoubtedly dishes resembling pasta-like creations. The influence of ancient civilizations, Arab culinary exchange, and regional adaptations all shaped the trajectory of pasta's evolution.

As we delve into the culinary history of medieval Europe, it's clear that pasta-like dishes did make their presence felt. Whether it was the use of fermented dough, the incorporation of durum wheat, or the creation of noodles that could withstand long journeys, the precursor to modern pasta was part of the medieval dining experience.

While we may not find knights feasting on spaghetti in grand medieval halls, we can appreciate the historical thread that connects our beloved pasta dishes to the past. The culinary journey from ancient civilizations to medieval Europe laid the groundwork for the gastronomic pleasures we savor today. So, the next time you twirl a forkful of pasta, remember that you're indulging in a tradition that spans centuries, bridging the gap between the past and the present.

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ultraheydudemestuff · 1 year

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Hurley Mound

McKay Rd.

Lumberton, OH

The Hurley Mound is located east of McKay Rd. above the Anderson Fork, southwest of Lumberton, west of Port William in Liberty Township, Clinton County, Ohio. One can see the mound in the distance by looking southward (upstream) along the Anderson Fork from the McKay Road bridge. The Hurley Mound is a burial mound built by the Adena culture and a significant archaeological site. It was listed with the National Register of Historic Places on May 5, 1978.

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ookersale · 2 years

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Chopsticks are held using the top of the particular thumb

Fork and also Knife Chopstick, the directory finger, and the middle finger's knuckle. Inside an open healthy posture, the tips in the sticks are close up together, while a shut down posture requires the ideas to be far apart. The three fingers hold the chopsticks together for the rear and permit them to wiggle.

Many people may find in which traditional chopsticks will not be suitable for these folks, and will obtain a knife rather. For such conditions, there are nasty versions available. While these can easily cut meat, they lack the particular slicing power on the ginsu or bakery knife. In improvement, plastic chopsticks are not as sharp or perhaps serrated as regular chopsticks.

When using chopsticks, it is really important to keep the hands clean and dry. A pair associated with Fork & Knife Chopsticks are the ideal choice, as they may prevent your fingers from getting sticky along with food. These chopsticks usually are flexible and long-lasting, so they're great for lunchboxes.

When utilizing chopsticks, remember to never point at your current food. It may be known as rude and disrespectful. This could also spill your food to the table or various other dishes. Therefore, it's best not to stage with chopsticks in case you are eating with others. You'll end up making many people feel uncomfortable as well as offended.

If you are using chopsticks incorrectly, you'll end up eating the wrong kind of foods. Chopsticks are compact and slender, and they are great for taking a grains of rice and small portions of meat plus vegetables. Those who consume Chinese food may also be adept at applying chopsticks.

The earliest Korean chopsticks date towards Three Kingdoms. We were looking at excavated from this royal tomb with Baekje. Korean chopsticks are often made of steel. This is viewed as a result in the practice of your royals to detect poison within their food. However, the composition regarding metal chopsticks varied according to historical eras.

Chef's knife and chopstick rests are another tableware item. They date returning to the 16th one hundred year, when they were crafted from wood. Today, nonetheless, most are cut from metal and are easy to scrub. These accessories besides prevent knives by scrubbing the dining room table, but they guard the table in addition. They prevent dusty knives and forks out of staining it. The particular French call these individuals porte-couteaux.

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maggiec70 · 3 years

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The Addams Family at Home in the Dordogne I had no desire to track down Jean-Boy’s descendants when I moved from city to town to village, London to Lisbon to Zaragoza to Vienna to Paris and many stops between in search of useful archival documents and elusive local knowledge for my dissertation in 1992. I already had a feeling that the descendants were an odd bunch. I just didn’t know how odd.

After graduating in the summer of 1994, I spent the last of my financial aid funds on two months in SW France with my besties who’d moved from Canterbury to the Gers and within spitting distance of Lectoure two years earlier. They suggested we pack a nice picnic, drive up to the Dordogne, and visit, for five francs each, the chateau bought, renovated, and occupied by the present duc de Montebello. My friend Jill had already been, but she said, with a straight face, that it was worth a second visit.

And as we say here in the South, “Boy, howdy!”

If this pile of stones, circa 11th century for its squat tower and through the 16th century for the rest of its unprepossessing additions, is the best that Jean-Boy’s descendants could do—or chose to do—then I have to think the gene pool has been sadly corrupted, in quite a few ways. As an aside, Jean-Boy loathed the English, so two of his sons married average middle-class Englishwomen; unfortunately, that trend continued down the line for a while. He hated the Ancien régime aristocracy, and another descendant, probably in the third or fourth line of dukes, married into the duc de Broglie’s family. He was until the end anti-clerical, and the last couple of generations are rabidly conservative Catholics, and religious artifacts, drawings, and paintings abound. He also hated the Chouans/Vendéans, and I think one or two of those somehow crept into the mix by the end of the 19th century.

The tour of the family pile—and when I say “family” here, I refer to the last duke only because he bought the place in the 1960s—began outside in the gardens. I think they were indeed supposed to be gardens because I saw a couple of roses among the knee-high weeds and a couple of shaggy ornamental hedges. Our tour guide was—wait for it!—madame la duchesse de Montebello herself; she is from some stalwart Prussian princely family, which explains why she looked precisely like Aunt Lydia or the wife of some former well-fed Nazi official. She was responsible for showing visitors around the outside grounds and the weeds.

After about 30 minutes, she shooed us inside, where Woody Allen met us. The present duke is about 5’5”, with a wizened little face, rather elf-like, with a hairstyle resembling a 13th-century monk’s tonsure. He was wearing a cream-colored turtleneck sweater, a plaid jacket, and khaki pants held up by—I do not jest here—a piece of rope. A pair of blindingly white tennis shoes and some red wine stains down one leg of the khakis completed this bit of sartorial splendor. As he greeted us, M. le duc held a full glass of red wine and never let go of it for the next hour or so as the level steadily decreased.

The tour languished in the 11th-century tower for over twenty minutes as Woody expected us to admire each stone on the way up a spiraling and quite worn staircase. At the end, we entered a large room with the usual array of wooden ceiling trusses and beams and early Renaissance features holding up an otherwise unadorned ceiling. The walls were stone with a few distinctly threadbare tapestries hanging here and there. The most noticeable feature was a long refectory table, enough for two dozen guess at least, covered in no discernible order with stacks of porcelain plates, serving pieces, and cups from wildly different designs and historical periods. The display included battalions of knives, forks, and spoons, then glassware, lots and lots of glassware. I picked up a glass and looked for a hand-written price tag; the entire setting resembled items arrayed for sale in a large junk shop. The patina of dust lay everywhere, as did the evidence of mouse droppings and a few pigeons that had flown in from holes in the ceiling to leave their calling cards on the dining table and some of the plates.

The next room was a reception room, but it was impossible to tell what historical period it represented. Jumbles of chairs, stools, small tables, a baby carriage, porcelain dolls, bookcases, modern lamps leaning to port and starboard added to the garage sale atmosphere. The oil portraits on the walls featured a collection of Ancien régime folks—Woody spent ten minutes of the glories of the de Broglies—a portrait of Berthier—Woody seemed fond of him too—and various high-ranking clergy, primarily bishops and archbishops. And who did I not see on the walls? Yep, you guessed it.

The last room on the tour was a small study, crammed so full of nondescript stuff that we could scarcely move around without bumping into something. But at last, I saw Jean-Boy. A black-and-white drawing, and not a very good one, of him, LouLou, and the five little Montebello rugrats all looking so en famille I couldn’t help but snicker. By then, I’d had it with Woody and his bottomless glass of wine. I asked what he had that either belonged to Jean-Boy or somehow related to him. He shrugged, took another gulp, rummaged around in a desk, and produced, encased in plastic, an inscribed invitation to the coronation. That was it. I asked, rather sharply, where all the letters, documents, uniforms, and other possessions had gone. Woody shrugged. His response, accompanied by more wine, was that those things had all disappeared over time.

I almost slapped him.

And that, Dear Readers, is one of the driving reasons I intend to bring to light all the dirty linen I already have, as well as the rest we’re gathering as I type. No one else has bothered. Everyone else is happy with the “official version.” But I do hate to see such a marvelous Kardashian-style saga go to waste.

#Jean-Boy #Montebellos

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wetsteve3 · 3 years

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From Mecum: This beautiful Regina (queen) by Horex was the most popular model ever for this small German company, combining graceful styling with modern mechanics for a terrific all-around machine. When one thinks of German motorcycles of the 1950s, elegant is not usually the word one uses, as German design trends in the period could be heavy and awkward. However, that wasn’t the case for Horex, which had been around since 1923, when the Homburg-based Rex bought the local Columbus motorcycle factory and combined their hometown name (Homburg) with the Rex family business. Young Fritz Kleemann, son of factory founder Friedrich, pushed this move into transport, and soon a series of single-cylinder models with side-valve and OHV top ends rolled out of the factory. After World War II, the factory resumed production with its prewar SB35 350cc OHV single in 1948, still with a rigid frame and girder forks. But in 1950, the new Regina model appeared. With a 342cc motor, the Regina had a beautiful, chrome gas tank of an elongated teardrop shape and a simple chassis with telescopic front forks, plunger rear suspension, a solo saddle and Bosch electrics. The fenders were slim and C-section, giving the bike a sporty appearance, and the engine had unit-construction with an iron cylinder and head. An aluminum cover hid the enclosed rocker gear, and twin exhaust ports gave the opportunity for symmetrical exhaust pipes and mufflers. With a 4-speed gearbox, the Regina was a picture of modernity and a motorcycle of near perfect proportions. This rare 1955 Horex Regina 400 twin is a low-mileage, original machine with 1,300 kilometers on the clock. Delivered new to Sweden according to its original title, it’s now part of the MC Collection. It’s a beautiful and rare motorcycle from this historic German factory

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rabbitcruiser · 2 years

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Manitoba was incorporated as a province on January 27, 1870.

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friendsofmotoguzzicathedral · 3 years

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Super Alce - Feature Bike

The Featured Super Alce in Location

Nestled unobtrusively among a row of 500 singles inside the Cathedral of Moto Guzzi, within a part of the structure which was historically an old sheep shearing shed lies one of Teo's Super Alces. This Super Alce is presently flanked by an Alce and an Airone Sport. The Super Alce was produced from 1946 - 1957 and it replaced "la gloriosa Alce". The Alce was renowned as a tough and reliable military bike during "La Guerra" WW2. It was a robust and powerful machine which distinguished itself everywhere from the large open plains in North Africa during the fighting and then equally as well in the tough mountainous terrain of "Le Alpi" the Alps.

The Alce, or the Elk in English, was always going to be a very tough act to follow but Moto Guzzi not only followed that act, they massively improved that tough act in 1946 with the Super Alce or Super Elk. At first glance the Super Alce and Alce appear hard to differentiate. Moto Guzzi stayed with the same sturdy frame and the proven girder fork suspension up front, the tank and seats look similar. They both have the trademark (for the time) Guzzi horizontal single 500cc motor keeping the overall look of both models the same. As the Super Alce was never sold to the public but only made for the military, both models generally (not always) share that military olive green colour in a flat paint to avoid reflection and detection but that's where the similarities end. Some were offered to the Carabinieri and although still finished in green paint featured some chrome plating as well around the tank.

The Alce had a side valve engine but for the Super Alce there was an upgraded engine derived from the type V engine used in the GTV and GTW series. This engine had a single port with two inclined overhead valves along with a four speed gearbox. The Super Alce had a twist grip throttle, a major improvement from the old lever on the handle which was present on the Alce. During 1952 the Super Alce included a magneto with automatic advance rather than the old timing advance lever on the handle needing to be adjusted by the rider as the speed changed.

Earlier models continued with the short double muffler from the Alce on the left hand side which was replaced in 1955 with a single long muffler still on the left side.

Andy and Wayne communing with their Super Alces in the workshop

One, perhaps unique, and quirky optional feature of both the Alce and Super Alce models is the presence of a second set of handle bars available for the pillion passenger. We have heard much conjecture as to the real reason for the second set of handle bars but frankly we have never met anyone who has convinced us they understand the factory rationale for this decision. One of the better theories is that because both of these models were only for military use that perhaps the second set of bars was made available so that when soldiers of lower rank were transporting senior officers around the battle field terrain etc that the pillion handle bars were in place so the more senior officers did not need to physically touch or hold the more junior officers piloting those machines. This is only a theory proposed by some and it is possibly not consistent with Italian culture. My own father was a soldier in the Australian Army during "La Guerra" WW2 and as a corporal he did often have the responsibilities of ferrying senior officers around on motorcycles but to my knowledge there was no such option on any military motorcycles within the Australian Army. He is no longer alive so I can't ask him about any touching while ferrying superior officers on a bike. Please share with us your thoughts or comments on this feature and any ideas you might have in the comments section, we would be very pleased to hear your opinions and learn from any specific knowledge which our 'friends' may posses.

Teo at his best, challenging himself with a Moto Guzzi problem

Special Quiz Question

As a bonus for reading this article all the way through to this point we have a special quiz, or perhaps a test for the very knowledgeable. Most Super Alce's have frame and engine numbers which commence with the letters SAxxxxxx with the SA being an abbreviation for Super Alce but some Super Alces come with the VAxxxxxx prefix on both the engine and frame. Do you know what the VA stands for in this instance? Do you know what differences there are on a Super Alce which has the VA prefix for the frame and engine?

As a clue I can advise that for the Alce model had the frame and engine prefix Axxxxx. This was consistent through the model run but there were a few Alces which had the prefix Vxxxxx. The V stood for Velocita and these bikes had different gearing and substantial chrome differences.

So the question remains to our collective brains trust, what differences in the Super Alce model came with the Vaxxxxx prefix. At this point I will make two declarations before people provide their thoughts or facts:

We at the Friends of the Cathedral of Moto Guzzi do not know the answer to this question.

I own a Super Alce (just purchased from Teo) with the prefix VAxxxxxx.

The Statistics

Provenance of Feature Bike

While this article is about Super Alces in general, the feature bike in question nestled inside the old shearing shed in between the Alce and the Airone Sport has an interesting provenance of its own. An Italian guy contacted Teo from Italy asking him if he wanted to purchase it some eight years ago. The usual discussions around price were had and before long this Super Alce was in a container bound from Italy to Melbourne, destination Cathedral of Moto Guzzi. The bike arrived exactly the same way it is presented in the museum now, eight years later with one exception. It had an old ammunition box on the back which Teo removed to keep the bike in its very original condition. When Teo finally got the munitions box open, he found inside a nice bottle of fine Italian wine made from the famed grape of Tuscany which is responsible for some of the most revered and celebrated red wines in Italy. Yes it was a beautiful Sangiovese. Needless to say, Teo has received great pleasure from both the Super Alce and the Sangiovese.

The Friends of Cathedral of Moto Guzzi Workshop

Most of us in this group, The Friends of the Cathedral of Moto Guzzi, know that the cathedral is the private collection of Teo Larmers' but as well as the cathedral itself there is so much more going on every day at the site as there is an active and vibrant Moto Guzzi workshop here where many Moto Guzzi related repairs and ground up restorations occur.

We thought that as well as featuring the Super Alce in this article that we would also feature some recent work in the associated workshop relating to two Super Alces. The first of these is my own Super Alce which I recently purchased from Teo. It had been sitting languishing on his farm (inside a shed) for 10 years before, so we had no idea what we would find and if it would start and the second of these Super Alce projects is one owned by Andrew Hawkes another Cathedral of Moto Guzzi regular who has owned his machine for circa three years.

Teo fettling with Andy’s bike

Wayne’s Super Alce in the Workshop

My own Super Alce story commenced a couple of months back when I told Teo I have a hankering to own a Super Alce. Something about the unbreakable agricultural look and feel of these machines with their military lack of adornment was beckoning me. I am beguiled by their primitive but effective engineering casually on display. I am transfixed by the girder fork front end which like the Eiffel tower is strong, lasting and effective as a piece of engineering while hiding none of it's structural secrets. One glance at the girder forks shows you how it works and after 82 years of service within the Italian military then abuse at the hands of us civilians these simple front ends are still functioning very well in 2021. They held up to the constantly changing tide of attack and retreat at the hands of Rommel and the allies in the deserts of North Africa and they did it all again on the Italian mainland. This engineering honesty proudly on display does not stop at the front end but extends to the rear end as well and then the most mesmerising example of engineering honesty exposed, watching the externally operating valve gear doing its work in front of your very eyes as the four stroke engine ticks over.

First is the induction stroke and you can see the intake valve open to suck in fuel and air from the Dell’Orto MD 27 F.

Next is the compression stroke when all the power is being built up and here both valves remain closed.

Finally comes the combustion stroke when all the power made is released in a fury of fire and brimstone. Again both valves remain closed.

Then, in preparation for it all to start again is the exhaust stroke where all the spent gases are expelled and here the exhaust valve is open telling all what the engine is doing

The Super Alce power plant is no ‘blackbox’ keeping all its running secrets from prying eyes, no this engine is a open book ready to teach any of us willing to learn the finer details of how an internal combustion engine really works.

Modern motorcycles won't even permit you to view the outside of an engine which is cocooned in a secrecy blanket of accessories or plastic decoration let alone see the exposed workings of the valve train but for the Super Alce, there it is in front of your eyes for all to see and admire, the truth at the heart of it all.

So after telling Teo I wanted to own a Super Alce myself, he revealed that somewhere in the deep dark recesses of his sheds and containers he had a Super Alce which had been dormant for 10 years or more. With that he located the Super Alce which would become mine. We gave the old girl a new spark plug lead and new spark plug and new plug cap. We used the kick starter to roll over the engine a couple times and deduced that it probably didn't have a lot of compression. Not deterred by this we got some fuel, filled the tank, checked the oils and started the video running. (See the video of the bike's first kick below). Teo and I had talked over how this would go. I would pull the choke lever from Aperto to Chiuso (from open to closed), then I would prime the carburettor. The throttle would need to be in just the right place, then, after locating Top Dead Centre using the decompression lever, I would give that one explosive kick which would bring the bike to life. Sounds good in theory. Well watch the following video to see what happened......... Yep, she started first kick after 10 years or more in a dark corner.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13hvzKvvdm4 (First Kick)

https://studio.youtube.com/video/hCbFljGPb2M/edit (First Ride)

At first, despite the engine running well, there was a problem with the idling which could not be rectified even with a bit of fettling by Teo. We opened up the carby and used compressed air to blow out the idle jet. After that all was perfect, she ran well and idled beautifully.

It seemed we had a good engine, despite it feeling like it had so little compression. I rode the old girl around a few dirt roads over a couple of weekends and she started reliably and pulled strongly enough. We were both satisfied that it was ready to go. But, life sometimes doesn't go as planned. The next weekend I was ready to take her home and get some red plates for her and she was reluctant to start. What had happed to our perfect machine which started first kick every time on queue! We were able to start her and she ran fine but she just took way too much effort with me kicking so much my leg started to get tired before she would start.

As we were working from Teo's workshop nearby the Cathedral of Moto Guzzi it was no effort to pull off the head and barrel to see the condition of the piston, rings, valves etc. First we poured some oil into the cylinder. Wow, with oil providing a seal, suddenly I could easily find the compression stroke which had been elusive up to this point. I could even stand up on the kick-starter using all my weight without the engine turning over. Oh dear, we obviously lacked compression despite the old girl appearing to run just fine. First we removed the head. The exhaust valve had a substantial leak and after removing the valves we could see there was so much wear to the valve guides, the valves had been rattling up and down the guides like a clackity old train. How had this girl run so well! But surprisingly the best, or should I say, worst was yet to come. As we pulled the barrel off the piston the four piston rings fell onto the work bench in a myriad of pieces. One of the piston rings was in seven separate pieces. How had this old girl been running so well and how had the broken piston rings not caused any damage to the piston or the bores. What a testament to the robustness of these old engines that with all this going on the old girl just kept running.

Bits of piston ring everywhere as we removed the barrel.

Oh dear!

All the pieces of the puzzle.

Fortunately Teo was able to supply us with the necessary expertise and parts to reassemble the engine and voila, she will be back to starting with barely more than a simple well placed kick. I can’t wait to see how this baby will go with even more oomph. Another very happy customer and another amazing old Super Alce back on the roads or paddocks or wherever I choose to ride her. Hope to see you out on the road one day while I am riding her.

Andy’s Super Alce

You may notice in the photos that there is also another Super Alce in Teo's workshop. This fine example of a 1949 Super Alce belongs to our esteemed friend and fellow Friend of the Cathedral of Moto Guzzi, Andy Hawkes.

Andy’s bike in the foreground

To my eye, Andy's bike is one of the best examples of a Super Alce that I have ever seen. It's not one of these perfect shiny examples that has magnificent paint with perfect finish to all the chrome and other fittings. It has never been restored or made to look somehow better than it would have back in 1949. No, Andy's bike has surface rust in all the right places. It had dents which show the scars of a long and busy life. It has the scars of a life lived to the fullest and evidence of many experiences which date back to its time in active service for the Italian military. I suppose in today's parlance it may be described as a 'rat rod' but make no mistake, the scars on Andy's bike are not contrived or deliberately curated. No the scars on Andy's bike came slowly over years and one by one by virtue of simply being used and enjoyed for the purpose for which it was designed.

Andy’s Super Alce story starts similarly to mine. It started with an itch and hankering for a Super Alce which Teo was pleased to satisfy. Teo sourced an appropriate Super Alce for Andy in Italy and thus started the long wait which Andy had to endure as his soon to be Super Alce was transported by boat from Italy to Melbourne Australia and onto the Guzzi Cathedral at Yea Victoria.

Andy’s bike arrived with a non functioning magneto and a few other foibles which were no problem at all in the workshop of Teo Lamers next to the Cathedral of Moto Guzzi. With these minor issues quickly dispatched by Teo’s skill and tools in the workshop, Andy was soon riding his latest pride and joy.

In fact it was March 2018 when Andy was taking his maiden voyage on his ‘new’ Super Alce that I quickly developed my own hankering. Andy has always been such a trend setter with the rest of us merely following.

See link below to Andy riding his Super Alce back in March 2018. Apologies for the recalcitrant pillion passenger on the back of Andy’s bike.

https://youtu.be/yPm2uWIa4pE

The Boys Having Fun Riding Super Alces at the Cathedral of Moto Guzzi Workshop on a Sunday Afternoon.

https://studio.youtube.com/video/dP8Sn10X9wA/edit (Sunday afternoon ride)

https://studio.youtube.com/video/skMy4MJVVic/edit (Back at the workshop)

Written by Wayne Brundell

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#friendsofcathedralofMotoGuzzi #SuperAlce #motoguzzi

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randomisedgaming · 4 years

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OK Virtual-On fans time to start moaning at SEGA for a PS4 western release of the Masterpiece Collection and more!

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Right, that trailer looks lovely doesn’t it? Three arcade perfect ports of all the Virtual-On arcade games in one shiny 4k PlayStation 4 package. Trouble is, it was released in Japan almost a year ago now and we still haven’t had one word of a possible release date in Europe or North America yet. Seeing as both SEGA of Europe and America failed to release the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 versions of the original Virtual On Cyber Troopers and Virtua Striker, gonna be honest it's not looking good.

SEGA have a long history of not releasing their Japanese games in the west. Their failure to do so has steadily damaged their brand and image over the years, hugely reducing their audience size as players become unaware of their games. With many gamers now born after SEGA's console glory days, they need to keep on top of their historical gaming library to keep awareness of it as much as possible.

How long must we wait to see this?

So not re-releasing collections of classic SEGA titles makes them look either incompetent, lazy or just don't care. Maybe all the Staff currently working in their western branches have never played or heard of Virtual-On? More realistic and if I put on my industry experience hat on, could well be SEGA don't want to fork out for the translation costs as they feel it won't sell that well in the west.

Trouble is even that's a really bad argument. As with the PlayStation 5 just around the corner, if you release on the PlayStation 4 now and have it set up to run on the PlayStation 5. Then you have an evergreen collection of the three Virtual-On arcade games for the lifespan of the PS4 & PS5. So you won't need to look at releasing again until the PS6 hits. Smart developers and publishers are also aware that you have a captive audience right at the start of a new console generation. Making it the perfect time to release new IPs or update and re-release old ones. Around a price point of £15-20 and I'd say you can't go wrong.

Atlus 2020 re-release of the SEGA Saturn classic Princess Crown on PlayStation 4 is also in the same boat right now and as SEGA now own Atlus! Well you know how this story goes...

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OH SEGA! Why do you do this to yourself... Even SEGA's Mega Drive library collections have been underwhelming, every time they stick about 50 games on it and leave it there. Often we get stuck with the same turkey's in the collection time after time too, like Altered Beast. While high quality later Mega Drive titles like The Ooze and the Japanese only Pepenga Pengo are often totally ignored. Really SEGA need to re-release every SEGA Mega Drive / Genesis game they every did (legal issues allowing) on one of these MD collections or split it over a couple of packs if needed or even sell them singly, at say a £1-2 price point each.

Yes that is Sonic hiding in the crowd at the back of the box artwork for Pepenga Pengo

Certainly SEGA have missed a trick by not doing an open Mega Drive emulator software game, that would allow other developers like Electronic Art, Capcom, Namco to also release their old Mega Drive games on it as separate downloads to plug into the main game. Which would then allow SEGA to re-release just about every Mega Drive game on Modern systems. Bar all those old license sports games that would be a legal nightmare to re-release and many were just awful in the first place. Yes, Altered Beast should be re-issued every time, but not at the expense of better titles, fans just want them all. Doing this SEGA could well find some of their classic games and character gain a whole new legion of fans. That's not even talking about where are the Master System, Game Gear, Mega CD, 32X SEGA Saturn and Dreamcast retro collections or re-releases.

So if like us here at the Randomised Gaming team, you want to see the Virtual-On Masterpiece Collection get a release in the west on PlayStation 4 along with Princess Crown. You are going to have to shout about it.

So reblog and like this post and get tweeting, chatting on forums etc.. as the old saying goes if you don't ask you don't get! Let's go with #VirtualOnGoWest & #PrincessCrownGoWest as hash tags and see how many western Virtual-On fans are out there and Princess Crown ones who want these collections released here.

Feature by Random Gamer Riven.

Twitter: RDGamerRiven

E.mail: [email protected]

Follow Randomised Gaming on Tumblr, for video game, art, reviews, features, videos and more. You can also find us on twitter and subscribe to us on YouTube for even more gaming content!

#VirtualOnGoWest #PrincessCrownGoWest #Virtual-On #Princess Crown #SEGA #Atlus #2020 #PlayStation 4 #PS4 #Dennou Senki Virtual-On Masterpiece 1995-2001 #電脳戦機バーチャロンマスターピース 1995～2001

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someguynamedstevewrites · 5 years

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Unwanted House Guest: Valentine’s Run - Part 5

Believe it or not, this story is based on characters created by @tamarinfrog , @searching-for-bananaflies , @cafe-cardamari , @bottledupcomic , etc.

And based on the video games Splatoon, Splatoon 2, and Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion by Nintendo.

Without a minute to spare, Arnick began by running through the Salmon Run basics with his team:

Their objective was to defeat the boss Salmonids, grab the golden eggs that they drop, and bring them to the cylindrical container known as the “basket”, usually located at the bow of the ship. To make sure the team knew what Kind of Salmonids to expect, Arnick went through the employee manual quickly to show pictures of each one. When asked by Lajni about why they were taking the Salmonid’s golden eggs, Arnick stated that he was not the right person to answer that question and moved on.

If a team member was splatted, each one of them had an emergency life preserver that could sustain them until another team member revitalized them with a splash or shot of ink. If the entire team is splatted and wiped out, Mr. Grizz initiates an emergency recall signal that pulls everyone back to the company ship so they could reconstitute themselves. However, that was to be avoided at all costs due to how it would affect their performance score and pay rate.

Arnick explained how the Salmonids attacked in waves, and the Grizzco employee’s job was to meet the egg quota set by Mr. Grizz for each one of the three waves. Lajni asked why they attacked like that, and Arnick theorized that while Salmonids were quite vicious, they couldn’t stay above water for too long before needing to return to it in order to catch their breath both figuratively and literally. Arnick wasn’t entirely sure if that was true or not, but it wasn’t like he could just go up to a Salmonid and ask them. Most attempts by Inklings to talk to them resulted in a large frying pan (the Salmonid weapon of choice) to the face.

It was agreed Arnick was going to lead the team, using the argument that he was the oldest and most experienced (and not because he was an Inkling despite Aadi claiming otherwise). With some help from Nalini, Arnick memorized the words for “bow”, “stern”, “starboard”, and “port” in Octarian so he could issue directions, and he also brushed up on simple phrases such as “Follow Me”, “Retreat”, “Hold The Line”, ��Return to Base”, and others. Nalini explained to her siblings what to do whenever Arnick called out a specific word or phrase. Aadi and Lajni seemed to understand, but Arnick wasn’t too sure if they would be able to remember every detail.

After a rushed fifteen minutes of planning, it was time to get to work and Arnick and the Octo-siblings were launched to Marooner’s Bay. Arnick steeled himself for he knew there was a lot of work to do.

———————————

As Nalini flew through the air, she had a nagging thought at the back of her head. During their planning session, It was clear to her that Arnick had a very hard time with saying certain things in Octarian. But at the same time, if Arnick’s grasp on the Octarian language was so flimsy, then what was with that sudden outburst he had when they first met him? His Octarian, while foul and explicit, was grammatically correct, so why was he having such difficulty with it after that? When they all landed, these thoughts were quickly pushed to the back of her head. It was time to get to work.

<COVER GROUND!> Arnick shouted, indicating that now was the time to ink the terrain as much as they could before the first wave appeared. Nalini found herself armed with the Grizzco Blaster which quickly covered large swaths of ground with its rapid fire rate. The rapid popping noise it made with each burst of ink reminded Nalini of the sound made from bubble wrap and found it helped calm her nerves.

Looking around, Nalini could see Lajni splashing around with the Grizzco Slosher. This was her first time going out and using a weapon of any kind. She had a large smile on her face, and appeared to be having a ball as she sloshed ink around with a carefree attitude. Nalini found herself smiling at the sight, but stopped and turned away once she saw Arnick nearby.

*PSSHHOOO*

Arnick fired a shot off in a seemingly random direction and appeared to be keeping an eye on everyone; like he was studying them. His cold, steely eyes reminded Nalini of the Elite Octoling drill instructors she had back when she was in training. They were ruthless, strict, and did not accept failure. Trainees that couldn’t keep up with them were left behind and dropped like a sack of potatoes. Nalini felt a knot form in her stomach just from the thought that Arnick could be anything like them.

Meanwhile, Arnick was equipped with the Grizzco Charger: a Bamboozlr Mk 1 that had been modified by Grizzco. Unknown to Nalini, Arnick’s sour face wasn’t directed at her and the others, but because he had a strong disdain for his Charger. He thought Grizzco had gone too far in their modifications of the traditional and historical weapon. While he did have to admit that the charge speed and power output of the Grizzco Charger were impressive and useful, he would always ask to himself, “...at what cost?”

Nalini turned and saw Aadi who had gotten the Grizzco ‘Brella. He was rapidly shooting across the beached ship to cover plenty of ground and seemed to be enjoying himself. Upon seeing his sister looking his way, Aadi smiled and waved before giving her a big thumbs up.

Nalini couldn’t help but think how grateful she was that the work schedule for today included all of the customized Grizzco weapons. With Lajni or Aadi equipped with these, it would help them get used to the Salmon Runs as well as provide extra protection from the Salmonids. Despite Arnick’s quick thinking and planning, there was the still the possibility of disaster. If anything happened to her siblings, Nalini would never forgive herself. She was going to look after them and leave absolutely nothing to chance.

Unknown to her, she wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

———————————

On a small rock outcrop a ways away from the decrepit freighter that was quickly being covered in ink, three Salmonids wriggled their way to a small punch clock. One by one, they took their time cards and punched in for work. Each one then slipped their way to their respective musical instruments: a cello, timpani drums, and a DJ Turntable. They were the band known as “ω-3″ (pronounced “Omega-3″) and it was time for them to give their fellow co-workers their marching orders.

The leader of the band made his way over to his cello and took a moment to sit down. He was well in his fifty’s and couldn’t play his best unless he was perfectly comfortable. He grabbed his instrument and plucked the strings once or twice before picking up his bow and running it across. He grimaced and immediately began to tighten the strings to make sure everything was tuned properly.

*SCRRRRAAAAAAATTCCCHHH*

The band leader whipped his head around and glared at the band’s DJ. He was snickering but shrugged his flippers like he had no idea where that sudden and very LOUD record scratch came from. The obstinate little guppy loved messing with his superiors, much to the leader’s dismay.

After turning to the right page of sheet music, the cellist picked up his bow and signaled for them to begin. At the timpani drums, the percussionist Salmonid picked up two grilling forks with fresh corn on the cob attached to the ends of them and began to pound away at the drums.

*BRUM BUM BRUM BUM BRUM BUM BRUM BUM*

———————————

<GET READY!> Arnick shouted as the rhythmic drumming began to echo across the water.

Moments after he said that, a pair of bulbous eyes popped out of the water as one of the Salmonids known as a “Chum” wriggled out of the water and started to head towards the Grizzco employees. It had a crazed look in its eyes, a pair of overalls on its fish-like body, and a frying pan held in its flipper. Shortly after it came out of the water, another one popped up.

Then another...

...and another still.

<STERN!> Arnick hollered to indicate where the Salmonids were coming in from.

<I’M ON IT!> Aadi hollered back enthusiastically. It was finally time for him to show what he was made of. Since Nalini had spent so much time caring for him and Lajni, he figured it was time he returned the favor and showed that he could help out too.

*BLAM BLAM BLAM*

Aadi rapidly fired away and took out Chum after Chum. When each one was splatted, they dropped power eggs that Aadi greedily snagged and stuffed in a pack on his back. These would provide an extra bonus for him once work was finished. <HA! This is a piece of cake! We’ve got this in the bag!>

Arnick heard what he said and looked at him with a bug-eyed expression. He was about to say something before cutting himself off and then face-palming himself. The last thing the group needed was a jinx, and Aadi just had to open his big mouth.

Sure enough, a shadow loomed over behind Aadi, and he turned around just in time to jump out of the way of a much larger frying pan being held by a “Cohock”. He looked very much like a Chum, but was much, much larger and fatter. He was quite slow to move too, which only emboldened Aadi.

<MISSED ME!> Aadi teased as he blasted away at the Cohock to take him down. With still a good amount of ink left in the Grizzco ‘Brella, Aadi was feeling very confident...

...at least he was until an even bigger shadow loomed over him.

Aadi turned around and saw a massive Salmonid standing right behind him. Aadi didn’t even hear the beastly thing creep up on him, but now he was looking up at its angry and intimidating yellow eyes. It was covered in armor plated scales from top to bottom, and was biting down on something that looked like an oxygen mask for deep sea divers. It snarled at the Octoling boy and continued to march towards him.

Aadi fired away at it, but the ink from the ‘Brella just bounced right off the non-stick coating of the thing’s scales. Once it was close enough, the monster began to inflate something on top of its head. It looked like a large green trash bag with some strange markings on it. Seeing it, Aadi gulped and suddenly found his confidence starting to wane.

<STEELHEAD!> Nalini yelled as she raced towards her brother. She could see the Boss Salmonid filling the massive ink bomb on top of its head, and Aadi needed to get out of there and fast. A small school of Chum and “Smallfry” (who were too cute for their own good what with their little spoons for weapons) blocked her path, but she blasted her way through and made a mad dash to try and stop the Steelhead before her brother got to know the business end of their massive ink bombs. Even with their emergency life preservers, it still hurt a lot when splatted on the job.

But before she could get there...

*PSSHHOOO*

A long stream of ink flew above Nalini and Aadi’s heads and struck the ink bomb dead-center. The bomb became unstable as the large Steelhead looked up in terror as he knew exactly what was about to happen.

*BOOM*

With an explosion of ink, the Steelhead vanished and in its place were three, sparkling golden eggs.

<GET THE EGGS!> Arnick shouted from afar as he ran towards the two older Octolings. Aadi wasted no time in grabbing an egg and had already began heading back to the basket before Arnick could yell, <RETURN TO BASE!>

Nalini arrived, and grabbed an egg at the same time Arnick did. Each egg was large enough that the Grizzco employees could only carry one at a time. She began heading towards the egg container at the bow of the ship, eager to deposit the golden treasure. Much to her surprise, somehow Arnick had gotten there first. He dropped his egg off and then ran off without a word.

Nalini deposited her egg and thought to herself, <How did he get here so fast? I took the most direct route back!> She could see that they now had three out of the fifteen eggs needed to make quota, and then realized that Lajni was nowhere to be seen. This worried her immensely since she promised herself not to let her or Aadi out of her sight. But just as she finished that thought, a platform on the starboard side of the ship rose up with Lajni and Arnick on top of it. Arnick was sniping off pursuing Salmonids, while Lajni used her slosher to power the propeller that provided the platform propulsion. Both of them had golden eggs in their possession. The team was now a third of the way to meeting their quota.

<Lajni!? How did you...?>

<Saw a “Stinger” pop up and Arnick helped me take it down,> Nalini’s little sister said nonchalantly. Looking over the starboard edge, Nalini could see one remaining golden egg from where the Stinger once stood. A “Snatcher”, a Salmonid that looked very similar to a Chum save for different fin color, picked it up and hauled it back to the water before anyone could stop it. She blinked a couple of times as she tried to process how Arnick was able to get to Lajni so fast. And for that matter, how did he know where she was?

<NALINI!> yelled Arnick, <PORT!>

This snapped Nalini out of her momentary daze as she followed Arnick to the Port side of the ship. Arnick immediately leaped off the edge and Nalini followed suit. Before she could hit the ground, she heard the sound of tires screeching and then an engine exploding. Arnick had just stopped a “Scrapper” in its tracks. The makeshift vehicle was stalled as the Chum inside of it began to frantically try and get it moving again. Nalini knew just what to do: she dashed behind it and took it out with a few shots from her blaster. Three more golden eggs appeared and Arnick and Nalini both grabbed one.

<RETURN TO BASE!> Arnick ordered while pointing to the propeller powered platform behind them that went straight to the egg container. Nalini began to run over to it, but saw Arnick march down along the side of the ship towards the stern. Nalini wasn’t sure what he was doing, but following his order, she quickly rose to the top of the bow and put her egg in the basket.

To her surprise, the counter on the basket now showed eight eggs total. She didn’t have time to think about where they came from. She looked down towards the stern of the ship and saw a massive “Steel Eel” chasing after Aadi. Nalini wasted no time and shifted into her octopus form to swim down the ink path they set up earlier with hopes to get to the large metallic monstrosity to stop it in time. She knew if she could get to the rear of the Steel Eel where the Chum was controlling the snake-like contraption, then she’d be able to take it out with her blaster.

But once again, before she could get there, the Steel Eel suddenly collapsed and exploded, revealing three more golden eggs.

<THANKS ARNICK!> Aadi hollered back before grabbing an egg and running back to the basket. Nalini reflexively grabbed one of the eggs, but her mind was somewhere else altogether.

<What’s going on?> Nalini thought to herself as she carried another egg back to the basket, <Can Inklings split into two or something!? It’s like he’s in two places at once!> She quickly deposited the twelfth egg, but felt a strange mix of emotions inside of her. Wasn’t she supposed to be the hero to save Lajni and Aadi from danger? Was she actually getting envious of Arnick because he kept getting to the Boss Salmonids first?

Nalini didn’t have time to think beyond that as she shook herself out of her funk and immediately ran back down to the stern where she could see a “Flyfish” floating around. Piloted by a tiny Smallfry, the Ink-Seeking Missiles it could launch would make things extremely complicated if left alone.

Her brother had caught up and was now running beside her. Nalini called out to him, <Aadi! Throw a Splat Bomb into the missile container once it opens up!>

<YOU GOT IT!> he said confidently, apparently having gotten a second wind after looking petrified by the Steelhead from earlier. Once they were close enough, they could see the Flyfish open its missile launchers and prepare to fire. Nalini and Aadi both grabbed a splat bomb from their belts and tossed them at the Flyfish.

They both landed in the right missile launcher.

<Aadi!> Nalini said worriedly.

<Oops,> Aadi said with a blush, <Sorry, sis.>

Suddenly, another splat bomb flew through the air and landed in the left missile launcher.

*BOOM*

Nalini looked to her side, half expecting to see Arnick saving the day once again, but saw Lajni instead. The Flyfish crashed to the ground, releasing still more golden eggs to pick up. Lajni smiled at her siblings, <Looks like all that time spent playing Basketball paid off!> she said proudly.

Nalini felt so proud of her little sister and smiled, but then turned deathly pale as she saw a small antennae with a flashing sphere at the end of it move right underneath Lajni. Nalini instantly recognized the “Maws” that had just made its way right underneath her sister. This Salmonid was capable of eating an Inkling or Octoling whole, and the only way to stop it was to feed it a Splat Bomb. None of the Octo-Siblings had any left after taking care of the Flyfish.

Nalini had been splatted before in previous Salmon Runs, and the best way she could describe them would be “painful”. The hurt that came with being splatted can be quite excruciating depending on how someone is splatted. Nalini’s first time being eaten by a Maws left her somewhat traumatized. The feeling of the sharp teeth piercing the skin, as her whole body popped like a balloon, was something she would never forget.

Now it was her sister’s turn to know how it felt, and there was nothing Nalini could do about it. She worried that being eaten like that could scare her away from Salmon Runs, or worse. Lajni had never even been a turf war before!

As the adrenaline pumped through her veins, time seemed to slow down for Nalini. She caught every moment as, just before the Maws leaped out of the ground, Lajni suddenly seemed to trip and fall forward onto her face. Right behind her was Arnick who had shoved Lajni out of the way. With the sensation of time being slowed down, Nalini saw the look on Arnick’s face and gave a small gasp.

There was absolutely no fear on Arnick’s face. Nalini couldn’t even detect a single hint of anger or frustration. His eyes were still the same stern, strict eyes he had always had, but they were eyes of determination. His mouth was closed, showing no gritted teeth, making what he was doing seem almost effortless.

Then the Maws breached the ink-covered surface and threw Arnick into the air. Arnick was now gritting his teeth, but still showed no sign of fear. Despite wincing in pain, he still had a fierce look of determination on his face as he began to swing his body around so he was facing the toothy Titan. With a snap of its jaws, the Maws splatted Arnick whole.

<ARNICK!> Nalini screamed as the adrenaline rush wore off. Time seemed to move normally again when she rushed over to grab her sister. She needed to get Lajni away from the Maws as quickly as possible. Suddenly the Maws’ eyes bugged out as its cheeks and face began to swell. Before shoving Lajni out of harms way, Arnick had also dropped a Splat Bomb right where the Maws was about to appear. Right as Nalini got to Lajni, the Maws exploded in a shower of ink.

The three Octo-Siblings looked at the large splotch of ink where Arnick had once stood. Nalini couldn’t believe what she had just seen. An Inkling sacrificed himself to save an Octoling.

Back in the training camps, Nalini was often taught about how ruthless, selfish, and cruel Inklings could be. During test exercises, the Elite Octolings in charge wouldn’t hesitate to abandon or sacrifice the Octarians under their command if it meant succeeding in their mission. Nalini was told that there was no place for weaklings who could be taken down so easily, and that if she wanted to survive, she had to rely on herself and herself only. It was the only way she could become strong like an Elite Octoling.

But Nalini always hated that.

She and her fellow trainees were all taught that there were No heroes. There was the enemy, your comrades, and yourself. They explained to the trainees how they should never expect help or aide from any of their comrades. Above all, the mission was the top priority, and the second priority was to protect their superiors. A superior could count on a subordinate to follow their orders, but a subordinate was to have no such expectations that their superiors would ever help them. Like they were told, they were their superiors, and they were not heroes.

Nalini decided that if there were no heroes, then she would become one. Even if she was only a hero to her younger brother and sister, that was enough for her.

When Nalini first met Arnick, she feared that he would act the same as the trainers she had before. He had the same serious and stern look on his face. He had the same posture of superiority and dominance that the elites did. He also could swear, curse, and berate just as well as the Elites.

Bur he wasn’t like them at all.

He somehow was always there to help her, Aadi, and Lajni during this first outing. Compared to the Elite Octolings that were in charge of training and instructing her back at camp, Arnick was practically a beacon of selflessness and courage. He may have been crass and strict, but no one without compassion would have done what he just did. There was no doubt in Nalini’s mind now that Arnick was a hero.

And now he was gone.

<GO!>

Nalini could almost hear him barking away like usual.

Even though she had only known met him about an hour ago, she could hear his voice loud and-

Nalini looked down and saw a small life preserver floating on the ink with a Grizzco company flag attached to it. The spirit of a rather angry looking Inkling was staring at the three siblings. And he just spoke perfect Octarian.

Lajni and Aadi both looked relieved to see Arnick okay. Nalini fired her blaster at the preserver, and in the ink that splashed on it, a rather annoyed looking Arnick emerged, brushed himself off, and grabbed one of the golden eggs left by the Maws.

<If you have enough time to stand around and gawk, then move your arses and GET THE EGGS!> he said loudly with annoyance.

Lajni and Aadi grabbed the other two eggs while Nalini had grabbed one from the FlyFish. It was then that Nalini finally understood why Arnick was having trouble speaking Octarian earlier.

The trouble wasn’t that Arnick couldn’t speak Octarian...

...it was that he couldn’t speak Octarian POLITELY!

All four of them made it to the bow of the ship and deposited the eggs in time to make quota. The music that had been playing in the distance died down and the Salmonids that were still out of the water turned around and began to meander back to it. The first wave was over.

———————————

After two more waves of the Salmonids coming after them, it was finally time for a break. Mr. Grizz was VERY pleased with their performance and congratulated them all for an excellent job. Back on the company ship away from Marooner’s Bay, Arnick leaned up against the wall of the cabin for the bridge, took off his hat, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He had ran more than usual compared to past Salmon Runs of his.

Lajni and Aadi soon walked up to him with big smiles on their faces.

<YOU WERE AMAZING!> Aadi cheered.

<THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HELPING US!> Lajni beamed.

Arnick smiled at the two of them and then made the mistake of trying to talk back, <This dumbass enjoyed helping you little brats!>

Lajni and Aadi looked very confused as Nalini walked up behind them, laughing. <I thought so!> she said as soon as she could stop giggling, <You can’t say anything politely, can you?! Not even about yourself!>

“Errr...” Arnick said with a small blush, “...no.”

“It is alright,” Nalini responded in Inklish. “Sometimes, rude talk necessary to do job well!”

Arnick looked to the side and gave a half-frown as if to indicate, “Hmmm... I don’t know about that.”

<Politely?> Lajni asked.

<I was wondering why he had so much trouble talking earlier when we were introducing ourselves,> explained Nalini, <It’s because Arnick doesn’t know the right way to speak politely in Octarian. He didn’t want to offend us before.>

<Really?> Aadi said as he turned to Arnick. Arnick gave a small nod back in response. <Ooohhhhh! Well, that’s okay! You helped us out so much on the Salmon Runs, I don’t mind if you say mean things!>

<Me neither!> chimed in Lajni, <We know you’re not trying to be rude.>

Arnick glanced sideways with a look that clearly said, “Ehhhhhhh...”

“You are good man, Mr. Stilton,” Nalini said with a smile, “Please still be taking care of us.”

Before Arnick could reply, the bear statue radio piped in and the voice of Mr. Grizz announced, “Okay folks, break’s over! Time to get some more of those eggs!”

Arnick put his hat back on and once again looked stern and serious. However this time, he was smiling too. <Okay you dummies,> he said cheerfully, <Let’s take this job and work it!>

Lajni and Aadi were still snickering when they stepped on the spawn point to go back to Marooner’s Bay.

To Be Continued...

#Unwanted House Guest #Arnick Stilton #Splatoon #Octolings #Nalini Aadi and Lajni #Salmon Run #Salmonids

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bwenner · 5 years

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jail bird, pt. i

The boy’s dedushka—poorer yet another pawned possession—grows somber over the wire-thin wheel of his Zhiguli. His hooded eyes look heavier, grayer, their severity ever-growing. A once lively blue sheen within them dies, fatigued to silver over the passing road, and those familiar lines which form thoughtful creeks and valleys to flow grandfatherly thoughts across his forehead seem now deepened to canyons: rumpled, furrowed beds of tumbling dread.

The drive home from the city lock-up has grown routine. The dedushka drives like his age, rolling a reasonable speed down the highway to rural nowhere—an unmarked path of snow save for skids of gray where other tires have rolled before—while the boy sits humbled in the passenger seat and says his usual sorries. Dedushka, who at this point in the drive would normally have offered a few deluded words of forgiveness and certainty about the boy’s innocence, says nothing.

Their noses stay cold while their boots warm in the max-blast of the drafty Vaz-2101’s heat. Permanent polar dusk hangs the sky midnight sea-blue overhead: a lightless ultramarine that soaks into snow, rendering the winter scene around them an abyss of blue. Mountains rise and fall on either side of the sturdy old car (whose Lada-factory himmelblau also blends right in), their peaks indistinguishable from sky. The lonely Murmansk Oblast highway—its asphalt brittle with subzero cracks, scabbed over with quick-fix tar adhering the scabbed patches of scaly concrete, pale and salty and fractured—takes on this same color of undersea nothing. Only the fiery gold of the Vaz’s headlights and the far-off glow of another car’s tail lights (which disappear in a blink now over the winding road, red ghosts retiring from their haunt of the cold night) offer any splash of color to the arctic landscape. Another quarter hour passes before finally a growing treeline rises to separate snow from sky: its green dulled to lightless black, the heads of spruces forked and horned, rising proud to border endless night.

The Vaz roars slatted, dusty heat at its passengers—the meager byproducts of its overworked engine—and though it struggles to make their slice of cabin space any warmer as they rocket through subzero tundra, it easily fills the air between the boy and his grandfather with an odd, buffering tension. A disquieting tension, specially produced by inanimate objects who noisily carry on their purpose in the face of those momentous and traumatic peaks of human experience. Deaf and steady, no matter the social context nor the emotional climate around them—these things belonging of course to the abstract tangles of feeling, territory of a dark jungle existing only on an unseen plane, and as such fully impossible for the copper radiators of Soviet-era Vaz-2101 compact sedan Zhiguli’s to gauge. Ghostly broadcasts from the realm of the unsaid. And even in the human animal who both creates and occupies this realm—one foot in the material, the other in the immaterial—it is a peripheral place of shadow, slippery, fleeting, dodging and scurrying away whenever one looks for it, and its existence, if not doubted and dismissed by its creators altogether, is at the very least ignored.

And so the heat roars while the boy tries once more to tell his dedushka he's sorry, forcing him to come out with the words much louder than feels appropriate. “I didn’t mean to get in trouble again,” he says. He balks after that, nearly shuts up, but something in him finds the nerve: He asks Dedushka what he had to give up to pay the cost of bail.

The question sits naked and profane between them. A lewd thing, a sacrilege making mud of their now beaten-path pilgrimage from the dirty claws of the city ports back to the unsullied snow of the forest cabin. His dedushka, stormy in the mouth and eyes, shakes his head.

The boy pushes luck further: “I’ll pay you back,” he says.

His dedushka Volodya, who ran his usual rounds this morning assuring everyone who’d heard the gossip that there was some sort of misunderstanding, that his grandson was a good boy with bad luck, that he was an innocent fallen into the clutches of trouble, that he had to do whatever it took to get the boy out of jail, says now, “Whose money would you put in my hand?”

The boy knows not to answer. He doesn't know the answer anyway.

“Whose blood would I find on it?”

The incorrigible boy, who has always seemed to know nothing of law and order, of conscience and scruples, whose destructive spirit seems to his dedushka to hold the beastly innocence of a wild pup who mauls a smaller creature—a neighbor’s pet—and returns, tail wagging, with blood on his maw and limp carcass in his teeth, is once again shamed to silence by that lone hallowed star of his life: his grandfather’s disapproval.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

He’s sorry to have disappointed his dedushka, and he means just that.

The boy is sorry to have fallen out of his favor, but he’s not sorry for what he’s done. Like Kazak and Tsaritsa and Jezebel, who know that pissing in the house incurs their master’s wrath, the boy doesn’t see the why of it.

Dedushka, who has never seemed quite this angry with him before, offers a final warning: that the boy shouldn’t tell his babushka of any of this, lest he strain her heart to its early grave. Grigori Rasputin. And a Solonik on top of it. “What did your mother expect? You’ve all the good sense of your namesake!” A disgraced mystic con man, and the boy's drunken wretch of a father. He can’t decide if his daughter is a fool who doomed her son with such a name, or a clairvoyant who merely assigned him the most appropriate title. (His mother, were she there in the car to defend herself, might explain that the boy--who was born on the feast day of Saint Gregory--had all throughout her pregnancy announced himself through many a kick as a hellraising little rasputnik, and once she finally held the newborn in her arms and saw for the first time those hypnotic green eyes, she knew there was simply no other name for him. Furthermore, she found it harmlessly amusing to tell her rambunctious little Grigori Rasputin what a lady’s man he would grow up to be.) “At the docks again, consorting with vory. You didn’t mean to get in trouble? Smugglers and black marketeers? Grebenschikov? Sturgeon?”

Grigori, who perhaps has more than a foot in the immaterial, struggles as always to see the forest for the trees. Though he has been able to solve calculus equations in his head, diagram the syllogisms inherent in French existentialist philosophy, recall every historical date ever mentioned to him, and monthly earn fluency in new languages since before all his baby teeth fell out, the complex thoughts and feelings of others—especially those rooted in material concerns like safety, practicality, tribal instinct—are to him impenetrable. And so he means just what he says when he answers his grandfather: “I wanted to see what they looked like...”

There’s nothing more to say. The boy doesn’t get it. Dedushka offers one last head-shaking remark, more to the universe than to Grigori: “You were almost called Nikolai.”

He has an answer for his grandfather, but he keeps it in his head: Perhaps then I’d be a passion-bearer shot in a basement…

The remainder of the drive passes without a word, Grigori shamed and droopy and window-gazing. He doesn't know how to make things right. The clunky Vaz, its noisy heat, its rubbish brakes, and the unyielding highway rush of winter air on its boxy frame supply the rest of the drive’s soundtrack. Paved highway eventually tapers to snow-cased dirt path, and the woods grow thick and cluster tameless along the road. Trees crowd in chess formation: At the front lines stand the straight, thorny stalks of dead birch. Their branches fork like wooden lightning, joining hands to fence themselves as pawns along the perimeter. Beyond them the proud evergreens—thick, impenetrable, immovable pine and spruce—stand together. They shroud their forest under cover of darkness. Their king, their queen, wherever they are, cannot be seen or found. And when civilization is out of sight, when pointed trees consume the world and the road is lost to forest and snow, the boy and his grandfather drive through this darkness wherever the Vaz will fit, forging their own path.

Eventually, the woods thin. At the forest’s heart a clearing emerges: night-soaked snow pricked by the blurred sunburst arms of distant light. Cabin windows—gold bars whose value soars beyond measure in the wilderness—peak through the trees, and soon they find themselves rolling up to Dedushka and Babushka's house, glowing safe and warm in its snowy clearing through the forest.

#writing #my writing #writeblr #work in progress #drafting

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