#full bore flow meter

[digitalshree]

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[loreleiloon]

(Variation of my other post)

What if, due to fighting villains so much, Hero contracts a serious illness that threatens to completely debilitate them.

Hero is nothing without their crime fighting work, so they seek out one of the best doctors in the city.

The doctor gives Hero a drug that keeps the illness in remission. But Hero needs to come in for injections twice a week.

Hero complies with this schedule religiously. After a few months, not only is the illness almost gone, but Hero feels better than they have in years.

And the doctor is so kind, so understanding. They never ask Hero where they get their bruises or broken bones, just patch them up good as new. As if they know exactly where Hero was injured.

For once in Hero's life, they are the ones being taken care of. They forgot how incredible that feeling was.

One day, the doctor steps out with a flustered nurse while Hero is getting injected.

"I'll be back soon," they promise on the way out. "Just sit tight and wait for me." Then with a swish of their doctor's coat, they disappear behind the door.

Hero obliges, letting the drug soothe the aches in their bones. But then the machine cuts off abruptly. Hero looks but the IV bag is still half full.

Confused, they ease off the operating chair. The plug is attached to the outlet. All the wiring seems fine.

Then Hero notices that the doctor left their clipboard behind. Hero's never read the clipboard. They can't even remember the last time the doctor let the clipboard out of their sight.

Hero knows they shouldn't but the notes are about them, after all. Besides, they want to know what the doctor thinks of all their strange injuries so poorly explained.

The first page is normal medical jargon. Hero flips through the second, third, fourth.

It's not until they reach the last page that they find handwritten notes.

"Strongest at .5 meters"

"Test 3mg more of Haepoxulin."

"Monitor activities during witching hour more closely."

"Do NOT taser right leg. Femur still healing."

Hero tested their step on their right leg. The leg felt healthy, better than healthy. What did the doctor--

A sharp pain shot up Hero's leg. Their knee buckles. Hero clutches the arms of the operating chair, agony locking them in place.

"You've been wanting to read that, haven't you?"

Hero's eyes whip towards the door. Supervillain stands in the doorway, holding the doctor's coat over their arm.

Hero tries to lunge, but the pain keeps them in place.

"What did you do to the doctor?" Hero yells, hatred burning from their gaze. "If you touched a hair on their heads, I'll--"

Supervillain shakes their head. "Ever the savior. To busy asking what I did to them," shaking out the coat, Supervillain pulls it over their shoulders, "to wonder what I did to you."

Hero's blood freezes. There's that roguish grin the doctor always wears, that stubborn cowlick the doctor can never comb down.

"You--you're--how?" Hero's heart twists with rage, confusion, hurt. "Was it all a lie?"

"Of course not. I couldn't have my favorite Hero dying. Who would thwart my plans? Life's so boring when everything goes your way," They press a small button on the device in their hand, "Don't you think, Hero?"

A thousand shock waves jolt through Hero's body. They crumple to the floor, writhing from the neurons coursing through their blood.

Supervillain clicks the button again. The agony stops at once. In its place, healing strength flows into Hero's muscles.

Hero's eyes roll back in their head. Consciousness weakens and the world swims into darkness.

Before Hero can fully pass out, they turn their head to ask Supervillain one more question: "Why...?"

Supervillain's, no, the doctor's roguish grin is the last thing Hero sees before the world goes dark.

"Why not, Hero?"

[salmonskinrolltf]

The Grind

Todd really did enjoy working from home. He loved the perks of getting to roll right out of bed when his alarm went off, and he loved not being stuck in traffic every morning and evening on his commute. But recently, he was starting to feel like he couldn't focus. It was important to him to succeed at this job, so he could keep rising in the ranks at his ad agency, but there were too many distractions that weren't allowing him to prove himself: chores to do, food to eat, noise from his neighbors. Dear God, the noise!

The window of his home office opened right out onto the alley behind his apartment. It was summer, so he needed the windows open in order to snag that cross breeze and keep from boiling to death, but the teenage skaters that seemed to swarm the alley during summer break were out and about in full force.

He tapped his chin with his pen, trying to come up with a good word that a cat might use to describe the delicious new treats Todd's client was going to feed him, but he found himself distracted yet again by the noise from the skaters outside. He wondered how they didn't get bored, with their endlessly repetitive roster of lame-ass tricks that all sounded the same.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Whirrrrrrr-thud

That's all Todd heard all day, over and over, with metronomic regularity. If he could harness one-tenth of the passion that these burnouts used when trying to learn ollies or whatever, he would be CEO within the week.

God, if only. He felt like he was working himself to the bone, with no results. A mighty headache was threatening to rear up and throttle his brain, too. He had been chugging Pedialyte, hoping to at least make it to the end of his shift. If he used even one sick day, he worried he'd seem like a slacker who wasn't committed.

OK, staring at his laptop screen wasn't working. He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Sometimes physically writing things down helped his creative juices flow. He tapped his pen on his chin with a maniacal rat-a-tat rhythm. It didn’t help. He sighed and hung his head in his hands. He just wanted to rise in the ranks. To get a better life for himself. Why was this so difficult?

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Todd tapped his pen on his chin more slowly. Was it just him, or were the skaters kind of perfectly timing their tricks? It sounded almost like the percussion on one of his favorite classical compositions. He strained to listen.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Yeah, there was definitely a meter to the noises, so precise that his brain felt like it could slot perfectly into them. He realized the predictability of the noise would be beneficial in terms of helping him ignore the skaters and focus back on work. As long as he internalized the rhythm, it would just fade into the background.

He pulled the paper toward him and began tapping with fresh vigor, trying to let the noise sink into the back of his brain.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Whirrrrrrr-thud

The sound was still present, but it was already becoming more like a gentle hum he was only vaguely aware of.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Whirrrrrrr-thud

That’s right. He felt the noise begin to flow through him. It was just like living in an apartment by the freeway, he thought. You can ignore any noise if it becomes familiar enough.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Familiar… Familiar… Family! He scribbled on his notepad. “Your cat is a part of the family…” He sucked on the end of his pen. He couldn’t figure out what to put next, but it was a start. He stared at the paper for what felt like another ten minutes, continuously drawing a blank. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Fuck, that headache was building again. He knew he was only feeling bad because of stress, but how was he supposed to de-stress when he had a deadline? He stared at the paper intensely, willing words to appear on it.

Whirrrrrrr-THUD

A particularly loud thud jolted Todd out of his reverie. Fuck, he was getting jumpy. Maybe he should take a ten minute break. As soon as he figured out the end of this tagline. He sucked on the end of his pen once more, but as he did so, something weird happened. There must have been a hole in the clicker of his pen, because he felt it break open, releasing a hot, gaseous substance into his mouth.

He gasped in surprise, accidentally forcing the gas into his lungs, which began to feel like they were burning. He gave a panicky cough and a plume of smoke trailed weakly from his mouth. What the fuck? He closely inspected his pen, but everything looked totally normal. Perhaps the end was a little damp from him sucking on it. But he saw nothing that explained what had just happened to him.

The burning sensation still tickled his lungs, but it was quickly mellowing into something… something quite nice, actually. His toes felt a little tingly, and a sense of calm washed over him. He felt his muscles relax somewhat as he slumped back into his chair. His headache was even receding a bit. If he could get it to go away entirely, maybe he could finally finish…

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Yeah, fuck it. He was gonna try again. He put the end of the pen in his mouth and took another deep breath. Once more, the top of the pen opened up and expelled smoke, which he took into his lungs and held there, enjoying the warming sensation before blowing it out in a tight stream.

That’s the ticket. He felt the headache recede entirely. He finally felt well and truly relaxed. He flipped his hoodie up over his head and drew the drawstrings. Wait, he hadn’t been wearing a hoodie, had he? Fuck it, he didn’t care. He was now warm and cozy, inside and out. He felt better than he had in a long time.

But it was still too hot under the hood. It felt right to be wearing it, even in summer somehow, but he could feel sweat glistening on his forehead. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, but he still felt himself grow hotter and hotter, yet strangely lazy and unwilling to actually do something about it because he was SO relaxed.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

He began to sweat so much that his perfectly coiffed hair started to wilt, dangling down in front of his eyes. It then just… kept going. It extended down over his face to the point that he thought the sweaty strands might poke him in the eyes. His normal instinct would have been to sweep it back, but in his addled state, he instead gave a practiced flick of the head, gathering the hair at one side. The color began to change from a strawlike dirty blond, to brunette, to dark brown, to a black so concentrated it must have been dyed. But he never dyed his hair, had he? He liked being a natural blonde.

Fuck, it was SO hot. Why had he chosen to wear this hoodie? A memory blossomed of him putting it on that morning. Well, of course he had worn this hoodie. It was his favorite hoodie. He wore it every day, whatever the weather. Sure, he could do to wash it. It stank of sweat and pot smoke, but it was his and he loved it.

He needed to cool down something fierce, though. He made a move to pull the hoodie off from around his head, but his hands unconsciously ignored his intention, opting to flip up the collar of his open button-down instead. As he adjusted the collar to look perfectly mussed and careless, the material of the shirt turned coarse and thick as it became a battered denim jacket.

He was totally unaware that he hadn’t perfectly executed his plan, still feeling relaxed and a little fuzzy from his vape pen. That’s what it was, of course. A vape pen. He wasn’t sure why he'd thought it was an actual pen, like for writing. He chuckled softly. Suddenly, being confused about things felt like it came more naturally to him, somehow. At first, he was confused about that, but then he wasn’t. Being confused isn’t confusing, is it? Is that confusing? Shaking his head and laughing, he took another hit off his vape pen and blew a perfect smoke ring, letting the warm fuzziness flow through him.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

He decided to return to his brainstorming. Although he was hot and not entirely clear-headed, he felt a burst of creative energy all of a sudden. He began to scribble on the notepad, working furiously as sweat began to pool on his forehead once more. He only noticed when it began to trickle down his face, tickling his cheeks and dripping from his chin onto the page. He scrubbed his face with his hand, not noticing that, as he did so, the hairs of his neatly trimmed beard were wiped entirely away, vanishing into thin air.

As he continued to scribble, his newly clean-shaven face grew pockmarked and yet more youthful and supple at the same time. His mustache, the only thing unaffected, began to recede into his upper lip, slowly shrinking back until it was just a dotting of stubble that suggested he’d been trying to grow one out but this was as far as he ever got. As if to compensate, his eyebrows thickened, darkening to a deep brown that better matched (but not entirely) his new hair color. He didn’t even notice the dark black strands hanging down over his eyes anymore, or the careful flick of his head that he gave periodically when he needed to concentrate.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

The warmth around his head eventually made him feel sleepy and dull, and he couldn’t stop yawning. So, after a couple more minutes, he sat back and looked at the perfect tagline he’d been working on, only to realize that he’d just been doodling little cartoons all around the edge of the page instead of actually focusing on work.

“Dude, get a grip,” he said out loud. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dude? Since when did he say dude?

He decided to take a break, cool down, and grab a Perrier sparkling water. Returning from his fridge with the green bottle, he unscrewed the cap and took a deep swig. His tongue was suddenly awash with the taste of sugary battery acid, and he had to fight not to spit it out. What the…?

He looked down and saw that he had accidentally grabbed a bottle of Mountain Dew, not Perrier. He didn’t remember buying Mountain Dew, but maybe his nephew had left one behind when he had come to visit last? He thought about going back to the fridge to swap out the drinks, but it suddenly seemed so far away. And now that he knew what flavor to expect, the taste wasn’t all that bad, actually.

He took another swig of the soda, the sugary concoction lighting up his insides.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

His skin began to feel itchy. Was he having an allergic reaction to the soda? He lifted up the hem of his hoodie and scratched at his stomach. As he did so, he felt the light blonde hairs of his treasure trail wriggling back into their follicles, leaving him perfectly smooth. What the fuck?

Finally, the shock of what he had just felt pierced his newfound love for the hoodie and he ripped it off, along with the denim jacket. He rushed into the bathroom, arriving in front of the mirror just in time to see his sparse blonde chest hair receding back into his skin. He ripped off his chinos as well, panicking as he saw the hairs on his legs vanishing into thin air. He did a quick 360 and checked in his underwear, noting that the only hair that remained on his entire body was his pubic hair and armpit hair, both of which seemed thicker than usual and were quickly darkening to a deep brown as though they were in a time-lapse video.

He watched this happen in horror, but even with his hoodie off, his head still felt warm and sleepy. His senses felt dulled, and he struggled to think of what he could possibly do next. He began to breathe faster in his panic, his belly jiggling slightly as he did so. Breathe. Jiggle. Breathe. Jiggle. Breathe… Nothing.

As he watched, his soft tummy had begun to recede as well, revealing cobblestone abs like the tide pulling out over a rock formation. His doughy chest began to firm up as well, shrinking into a pair of lean pecs, his round nipples shrinking and popping out from their perches on the hardened mounds as soon as they were finished forming.

“Holy shit, dude, I’m ripped!” he said, letting the slang tumble breezily out of his mouth without a second thought while he rubbed his abs with both hands. The ridges of his stomach made his fingers tingle and his arms shrank, lean muscles emerging from the surface while his legs followed suit, the thighs shrinking into the perfect fit for skinny jeans - where had that thought come from? - while his calf muscles rippled and stretched, their new bulging shape accentuated by his hairless, pale skin.

Whirrrrrrr-THUD

Todd felt the noise from the alley reverberate around his head. It sounded like someone out there must have fucked up a crooked grind real bad. ‘Gnarly,’ he thought, imagining how much pain they must be in. His mental image grew more and more clear and vivid. Somebody falling onto the asphalt on their elbows.

He felt a slash of pain across his elbows and held them up, seeing red in the mirror before it faded into a pair of scarred, scabbed patches that he felt like had always been there. He returned to his reverie. Somebody skinning their knee after narrowly avoiding hitting a tree. Another slash of pain and the skin on his knee suddenly looked knobbly, like it was still healing.

As potent mental images flitted one by one through his brain, scars and scrapes began to dot his body. Slash, slash. Two more long scars on the left knee. Slash. A long red scrape along his right pec that looked dope as hell. Slam. His palms became pockmarked and gravel-scraped.

Not even noticing the pain anymore as his skin toughened and ever-so-slightly tanned, he stood up straight to his full height, admiring the effect of his newfound musculature. He was too busy trying (and failing) to pop his skinny pecs to notice that his “full height” was a couple inches shorter than it used to be.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

The sound of the skaters outside brought him back to the present. Wasn't he supposed to be doing something, other than checking himself out in the mirror? He got dressed, throwing his hoodie and jacket back on. He could have sworn he’d been wearing a different pair of pants earlier, but all he found crumpled on the bathroom floor was his favorite pair of joggers. Oh well, he threw them on too.

He was halfway out the door when he remembered he was supposed to be doing something at home. Where the hell did he think he was going? He shook his head, trying to remember. He still felt sleepy and slow, his thoughts inching along as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

He reached into his pocket for his vape pen and realized he’d left it on his desk. His desk! That’s what he was doing! He was still on the clock! He needed to work!

He wandered over to his desk, took a drag from the vape, and stared in consternation at the notepad in front of him.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

He knew he was supposed to care about this dumb shit about cat food or whatever, but he really wasn’t feeling it. Something in the back of his mind told him that he’d get money if he finished it though, so he decided to give it a shot. He sat back in his chair and found himself falling, the chair’s seat vanishing beneath him. Before he hit the ground, however, he was caught with a soft flump in a squishy, slick mound.

He looked down and saw that he was in a beanbag chair. Something was wrong here. He could feel his brain slowly whirring. Was it the chair? No, it’s the one he’d brought from home when he moved in. He saw his initials carved crudely into the fabric on his right side.

What was wrong, then? Was it his desk? No, he didn’t have a desk, did he? He looked up and saw his entertainment unit in front of him, his XBOX still glowing green because he’d forgotten to turn it off earlier. No, all that looked normal.

So what was wrong? Was it the fact that he was worrying about money?

Whirrrrrrr-thud

His parents paid for whatever shit he wanted as long as he kept his community college grades up, so there was no need to worry.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

No need to worry at all, really. About anything. Or think, even. He barely ever went to class. He just wanted to hang with his friends at the skate park. But as long as he flirted with his professors the right way, he passed with flying colors. He was a studied flirt, even if he wasn’t a studied anything else.

Anyway, his parents would let him drop out once he proved he could make money as an X Games champion. He rubbed his dick through his joggers, not noticing as it plumped up a few extra inches while he fantasized about all the tail he’d get once he was a skateboarding champion with endorsement deals and shit.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

No, he had all the money he needed. He just wished he was 21 already, so he could buy weed for himself at the dispensary. Then everything would be perfect. Just two more years, he reminded himself. He could survive on stealing shit from his older brother's stash at home until then.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

Todd leaned back in the beanbag and reveled in that sound. His favorite sound. He loved it so much. He never wanted to stop hearing it. With his eyes closed, he didn’t notice the rest of the room change around him. The tasteful Pier One art being swapped out for posters of busty babes and retro Tony Hawk video games sloppily scotch taped onto the walls. The cream-colored couch he’d saved up for was now scuffed, stained orange in patches from crushed Cheeto dust, and stank of weed.

The wall that formerly held potted plants was now devoted to a rack of the sickest custom boards anyone had ever seen. Not that he’d made any of them, he didn’t have time for that shit. He just paid other people to bring his dope-ass ideas to life.

Whirrrrrrr-THUD

Todd was rubbing his dick absent-mindedly again and came in his underwear. Fuck. He hadn’t prematurely ejaculated in months, now. As he changed his underwear, leaving the cum-drenched boxers on the floor by the beanbag, he worried about doing that in front of a babe he wanted to score.

He needn’t have worried. Todd didn’t know it, but he would never have worries again. Inside that underwear, which would remain on the floor forgotten for the next two weeks, contained the last vestiges of his previous life, expelled through pure pleasure at the life he got to live now. What he left behind was a person he would never remember and who he would shudder to think had even existed in the first place.

No, he was destined for a dope life. In a clean pair of underwear and his favorite kicks, he wandered his way into the back alley, watching his friends Tate and Landon practicing tricks while offering them tips and taking a hit off his vape. The grind was over for Todd now, though that word already meant something entirely different to him at this point.

Whirrrrrrr-thud

[indiegame-analyzer]

The Cathedral of Carnage: Dissecting ULTRAKILL & Hakita's Relentless Vision

(Or, How a Solo Dev Reinvented the Wheel, Then Set It On Fire and Kicked It Down a Staircase Made of Pure Adrenaline)

ULTRAKILL isn't just another retro shooter. ULTRAKILL isn't nostalgia bait wrapped in pixel art. It’s a meticulously crafted, violently elegant argument. An argument about movement, about feedback, about the very soul of the FPS genre, built not by a committee chasing trends, but by a singular, uncompromising visionary: Arsi "Hakita" Patala. And it’s this terrifyingly focused vision, poured into every pixel, every shotgun blast, every nanosecond of air control, that makes it not just a great game, but a transformative one. Forget "boomer shooter revival." This is evolution.

Part 1: The Body as Instrument - Where Movement Becomes Music

Most shooters treat movement as a means to an end: get from cover to cover, dodge the big telegraphed attack. ULTRAKILL treats movement like a Stradivarius in the hands of Paganini. Your body is the weapon. The core loop isn't just "shoot demon, collect style points." It's "orchestrate chaos."

The Slide: Not a crouch-speed gimmick. It’s a launchpad. Chaining slides isn’t just fast; it builds kinetic energy that translates into devastating slam attacks or crucial repositioning. It fundamentally changes the topography. Floors aren't walked on; they're played.

Air Control: Forget momentum-killing inertia. In ULTRAKILL, air is your canvas. The pinpoint precision of mid-air strafing, rocket jumping, railcoining – it grants godlike agency. You aren't falling; you're composing your trajectory millisecond by millisecond. This isn't just fun; it’s emancipating. It shatters the constraints most FPS games impose without you even realizing it.

The Feedback Symphony: Every action sings. Landing a point-blank shotgun blast? The screen shakes, the sound design crunches, the enemy recoils violently, and a gory fountain of coins erupts. Parrying your own shotgun pellet? The sharp CLANG, the flash, the sudden reversal of damage – it’s pure, unadulterated synaptic candy. Hakita understands something primal: pleasure in games isn't just visual, it's haptic, auditory, rhythmic. ULTRAKILL weaponizes dopamine.

Part 2: Style as Substance - The Brutal Ballet

The Style Meter isn't a tacked-on gimmick. It's the game's thesis statement. It demands variety, aggression, and relentless momentum. Stagnation is death, literally and stylistically.

The Dance of Death: You aren't just killing demons; you're engaging in a lethal waltz. Whiplashing an enemy into the air, pumping them full of nails mid-flight, then slam-stomping their corpse into paste before ricocheting a coin into the skull of a distant foe – that's a combo. The game actively rewards audacity and creativity. Playing safe isn't just boring; it’s inefficient.

Resource Management as Flow State: Health isn't found in packs; it’s earned through aggression via the Blood Mechanic. Ammo is plentiful but demands constant swapping and clever use of alt-fires. This creates an intoxicating flow state. You’re never passively waiting for recharge. You’re constantly acting, reacting, pushing. The resource management is the combat rhythm.

"Ultrakill" as Mantra: The title isn't just edgy. It's the core directive. Hesitation is defeat, reframed as a design pillar. The game pushes you, relentlessly, to be faster, smarter, more brutal. To achieve not just victory, but mastery.

Part 3: Hakita - The Architect of Mayhem

Understanding ULTRAKILL requires understanding the mind that forged it. Hakita isn't just a developer; he's a fiercely independent auteur operating with near-maniacal focus.

The Solo(ish) Symphony: While collaborators like sound designer Jason "Jesper" Kridsner (FKFKFK) are crucial, Hakita is the undeniable nucleus. He codes, designs, directs, composes the game's iconic industrial/techno/dark ambient soundtrack. This holistic control is vital. Every element – the crunch of a shotgun, the pulsating bassline of "Order," the specific trajectory of a coin toss – speaks the same design language. There’s no committee dilution, no publisher mandate softening the edges. This is pure, uncut vision.

"Fuck Your Trends" Design: ULTRAKILL doesn't chase modern FPS conventions. No reloading. No regenerating health. No aim-down-sights realism. No sprawling open worlds. It strips away decades of accumulated cruft and asks: "What makes moving and shooting feel fundamentally good?" It answers by doubling down on immediacy, speed, and player expression. Hakita resurrects the spirit of the 90s shooter not through imitation, but by reinterpreting its core tenets through a modern, hyper-polished lens.

The Relentless Iterator: Look at early prototypes versus the current game. The movement has been tweaked, the weapons balanced, the enemies refined, the visual style evolved – all while maintaining its core identity. Hakita exhibits a rare dedication to feel. He understands that a 0.1-second adjustment to slide friction or projectile speed can transform the entire experience. He plays his own game obsessively and polishes it like a diamond.

Transparency & Community: Despite the intense focus, Hakita maintains a remarkable connection with the community. Devlogs are detailed and insightful, explaining design choices. He engages (often bluntly, sometimes humorously) on forums and Discord. This isn't just PR; it's a reflection of his passion and respect for the players dissecting his work. He treats them as fellow enthusiasts, not just consumers.

Part 4: More Than Gore - The Stark, Stunning Aesthetic

Beneath the blood geysers and gibs lies a surprisingly cohesive and starkly beautiful aesthetic.

Minimalist Hellscapes: The environments (especially in Act 1) are often vast, desolate, and architecturally imposing. Think brutalist cathedrals drenched in blood and shadow. This minimalism isn't laziness; it’s focus. It removes visual clutter, putting the spotlight squarely on the enemies and the intricate dance of combat. The void is as much a character as the demons.

The Power of Juxtaposition: The hyper-violence clashes brilliantly with the clean, almost abstract enemy designs (V2, Gabriel) and the sterile UI. The ethereal beauty of the soundtrack pieces like "Altars of Apostasy" against the backdrop of carnage creates a unique, unsettling, and powerful atmosphere. It’s not just "metal"; it’s sublime.

Narrative as Ambiance: The story isn't spoon-fed. It’s cryptic terminals, environmental storytelling, and the haunting sermons of Gabriel. It embraces ambiguity and existential dread, perfectly complementing the gameplay’s themes of endless, violent repetition and the pursuit of power. You are not a hero; you are a machine fulfilling its base directive: ULTRAKILL.

Conclusion: Why This Matters - The Indie Crucible

ULTRAKILL is more than an excellent game. It’s a testament to the power of uncompromising indie development.

Proof of Concept: It demonstrates that a solo dev (with key collaborators), fueled by vision and relentless iteration, can create an experience that not only rivals but often surpasses AAA offerings in its chosen niche. It throws down a gauntlet: "This is possible."

Design Philosophy Manifesto: It challenges stagnant conventions. It argues that depth doesn't require complexity, that feedback is king, that player agency should be paramount, and that feel is quantifiable through obsessive tuning. It’s a masterclass in systemic design where every element interconnects to create an emergent ballet of violence.

The Fire of Passion: You can feel Hakita’s obsession in every frame. This isn't a product built by committee for maximum marketability; it’s a raw, unfiltered expression of a specific, demanding vision. It reminds us why indie games are vital – they are where the most daring, idiosyncratic, and pure ideas can flourish.

ULTRAKILL isn’t perfect. Some find its aesthetic too sparse, its difficulty curve punishingly steep, its narrative too opaque. But its "flaws" are often intrinsically tied to its strengths – the difficulty demands mastery, the minimalism enhances focus, the opacity fuels intrigue. It’s a game that knows what it wants to be and achieves it with terrifying, beautiful efficiency.

Hakita didn't just make a shooter. He built a Cathedral of Carnage, a monument to movement, feedback, and pure, unadulterated player expression. He reminded us that hell isn't just fire and brimstone; it's a perfectly designed arena where the only sin is hesitation, and the only salvation is style.

And we are all the richer, and slightly more blood-soaked, for it.

Footnotes for the Obsessed (Like Me):

The Shotgun Parry: This isn't just a cool trick. It's a philosophy. It embodies the game's demand for aggression and awareness. You must be close, you must time it perfectly, and the reward (massive damage, health regain, style points) is immense. It turns defense into offense, a core tenet.

Gabriel: A perfect antagonist. His theatrical pronouncements ("MACHINE... I WILL CUT YOU DOWN, BREAK YOU APART, SPLAY THE GORE OF YOUR PROFANE FORM ACROSS THE STARS!") are hilariously over-the-top yet delivered with such conviction they become genuinely compelling. His fights are spectacles, demanding mastery of all your tools.

The Soundtrack: Hakita’s music isn't just background; it’s the game’s pulse. Tracks like "Tenebre Rosso Sangue" are perfectly synced to boss phases. The ambient dread of "Sheer Heart Attack" or the driving industrial beat of "War" directly influence the player's adrenaline and rhythm. It’s inseparable from the experience.

"P-Ranking": Achieving a P-Rank (Pure, Perfect) on a level isn't just bragging rights. It's the ultimate expression of system mastery – speed, style, no damage. It forces you to internalize the level's geometry, enemy patterns, and your own arsenal to an absurd degree. It is the endgame.

So yeah. That’s ULTRAKILL. That’s Hakita. What do you think? What moment made it click for you? Or does the sheer intensity leave you cold? Let’s get bloody in the tags.

(This post is dedicated to the hours lost to Cybergrind. Worth it.)

[hirocimacruiser]

Tommykaira Tuned Legacy M20tb.

TUNED LEGACY M20tb

The challenge from GT to racing sports, the fastest wagon

Tommy Kaira's pedigree on the wagon. TUNED LEGACY M20tb, the flag bearer of the wagon era

A high level of perfection that can only be achieved by Tommy Kaira's complete car, which pursues total balance. Thorough pursuit of the well-established BOXER-4. The 297 horsepower produced by its reliability and high level of perfection gives it the edge of a sports car, and even though it is a wagon, it is enough to stimulate the true sports car mindset.

The torquey power that rises smoothly from the low rotation range brings you a world of endless possibilities.

It makes wagonists forget about the body and truly invites them into the world of sports cars.

The suspension tune is also the traditional Tommy Kaira tune, and its biggest appeal is the unique flavor that pursues the fun of sports driving while taking advantage of the appeal of 4WD.

The M20tb will demonstrate its true worth in all environments and conditions, including winding roads, highways, and if you're looking for a full-fledged circuit.That's the true joy of driving with the M20tb.

Powerful form

The front bumper spoiler, rear bumper spoiler, and roof end spoiler are Tommy Kaira Aero originals, and 17-inch wheels and tires are standard on the suspension. Completely tuned car, Tommykaira's status is modeled. It can be said that it is an object that harmonizes with any world in which wagonists drive.

SPECIFICATIONS

Max Output: 297ps/6600rpm

Max Torque: 35.3kgm/5800rpm (GT-8:5MT)

Max Output: 278ps/6600rpm

Max Torque: 33.3kgm/5800rpm (GT-8: AT)

Max Output: 270ps/6400rpm

Max Torque: 32.8kgm/5300rpm(GT: 5MT.AT)

BODY Length: 1680mm Width: 1695mm Height: 1490mm Wheelbase: 2630mm Tread: Front 1470mm Rear 1460mm.

■ENGINE

BOXER MASTER-4, DOHC 4cam 16Valve Twin Turbo with Multi-cup Intercooler Bore x Stroke: 92.0mm×75.0mm Piston Displacement: 1994cc

LAYOUT 4Wheels Drive 5-Speed Manual/E-4AT

Brakes: 2Piston Type Caliper+Ventilated Disk

Wheels: 7.0Jx17(Front & Rear)

Tire: 215/45ZR (Front & Rear)

Suspension: Strength Sports Spring

Steering: Rack&Pinion

●Interior

A comfortable design that lets you enjoy sports driving.

It features a shift knob made of aluminum, a 20-meter console that stands out in Tommy Kaira red, and an original meter made of three-dimensional carbon.

●Engine

Tommykara

The 297 hp power effortlessly guides the driver into the experience zone from the moment the car starts. Easy-to-handle engine characteristics are the hallmark of Tommykans.

●Front view

The originally designed spoiler with large openings above and below the bumper line maximizes cooling effectiveness. Together with the large integrated sub-light, it creates an impressive front view.

●Rear view

The fiberglass sports stabilizer and spoiler create a dynamic range that improves stability through downforce at high speeds.

●Fender decal/side decal

Flowing Tommykara, the confidence of a tuned car.

[poke-entomology]

A Tentacool Story

Here's chap 5. I lack anything witty to add to this section so please insert your own joke here.

_________________________ Heh, that was pretty good.

Chapter 5: A cool trip

'Ocean man, take me by the- No wait, I don't have those anymore... Tentacool, take me by the tentacle? No, that's barely even a rhyme.' *sigh*

They toss another mud ball into the ever elongating mud pathways. It's looking like the world's most depressing slip and slide for all the effort he's put in. But at least these noodle arms are getting better at throwing. Almost made it to the next pond over.

'I'm so bored, the prof noticed those things finally, but he's not even bothering to look into it. Where's your sense of curiosity? Aren't you a scientist?' *splat*

A full month came and went and still no closer to returning to normal. There wasn't even a search party, let alone an investigation into where he went. Fixed deep in a depressive episode, the jellyfish was practicing his moves again. Although it's less practicing in battle and more using "Constrict" over and over again on the mud.

'The local pokemon have been getting more active lately, sometimes joining in making a few balls and setting them near the shore. A handful of talented Magikarp have even made a game of trying to get their mud balls farther than the others, making those two lines even farther than I had intended. So much for spelling out "Help!", but it is a fun distraction from the crushing dread of being forgotten by everyone I know and love, so I join in whenever I’m not fishing or sleeping.'

'Haven't seen that Krabby around lately either, thankfully. It's trainer must be keeping it close after one too many complaints or something. A crustacean like that is bound to get into more trouble than it's worth.'

*drip*

'Hm? Rain?' The pokemon all stop their game and look up. Soon, the drizzle becomes a full rainstorm. Most of them dive deeper and I'm about to join them when I notice a faint trail of mud streaming into the lake.

Looking to the two long mounds, I see a small stream of rainwater flowing in the direction of the lake. Curiously, I swim over and carve a small groove into the softening dirt, allowing some lakewater to push between the walls we've been making over this past month...!

"All of you! Come out! It's time!" Hearing the Tentacool's words, a group of fish float up and watch intently.

"You’re all tired of being in this tiny lake, same as me. Well the rain has given us a chance, we’re gonna make our own path!!"

As he flexes his jelly body, water pumps up and into the groove. Dirt flies away and Tentacool pushes more and more into the walls. Soon, he's managed to get enough water into this channel that he’s able to swim… kinda, and the others are beginning to take notice. Following his lead lines of pokemon begin joining in the effort, giving him a strong push from behind and forcing the trench deeper as they swim, allowing more lake water to flow into makeshift channel.

"Yes, that's it! All together now!" 'If I remember anything from walking to these damn ruins every day, there's a stream right by here! If we can just dig in a little farther, just a few meters, we'll be able to hop from pond to pond and reach it! And once we hit the stream, all that's left is-'

'the ocean!'

[odayaka1]

Chapter 6: Knowledge of Seals

[

STATUS UPDATE

CHAKRA QUANTITY : 5 TAILS

COMBAT POWER : 6 TAILS

9 TAILS WITH OCULAR POWERS

ABILITIES

TAILED BEAST BOMB – LVL MAX

• ANY SHAPE WITH ENOUGH STRUCTURAL BALANCE, CAN BE USED FOR THE BOMB. EVEN A FINGER SIZED BOMB CAN ERADICATE A MOUNTAIN ON DETONATION.

]

Wow I just threw some chakra bombs to pass my time and the level went up by so much that it maxed out.

I think it's due to my new control. The bomb now comes to me as easy as breathing.

Now I don't want to train in chakra control. I feel bored, so  I started rolling my 150 meter body on the floor.

Lets train harem style shadow clones for a month as relaxation.

As I created a mountain full of clones turned into naked women and a notification came.

[

ABILITY UPDATE

HAREM STYLE SHADOW CLONES: LVL 9

• A SKILL FORMED BY A BORED FOX JUST TO KILL TIME AND STEAL SOMEONE ELSE GLORY.

• CAN BE USED FOR DIFFERENT APPLICATION DEPENDING ON USERS INTENTION.

• SKILL OF DEGENERATE PEOPLE.

]

'Oye-Oye! Don't go and say all those things like it's true. I mean I did steal it to mess with Naruto but I am not a degenerate.'

Why is it still a level 9 system ? What does it lack to reach level 10?'

[

NOTICE

ACCORDING TO THE TECHNIQUES IN DATABASE THERE IS ONLY REAL EXPERIENCE THAT IS REQUIRED WHICH HOST DOESN'T  HAVE AS HOST HASN'T  SEEN NAKED BODY INCH BY INCH TO HAVE AN PROPER UNDERSTANDING OF IT.

ONLY THE ORIGINAL CREATOR 'NARUTO UZUMAKI' REACHED LEVEL 10 IN THIS TECHNIQUE AFTER STAYING WITH JIRAIYA.

]

So Naruto was more of a degenerate than I thought. Well now back to training.

For the next five years I went on intense grind in which I took the topic I liked the most, the seals.

Seals are divided into several categories: Basic seals. This includes the same and more knowledge that Uzumaki have till advanced levels.

Like sealing chakra in things, affecting senses, gravitational seals.

There are many seals like sensory seals, chakra blocking seals, 4 element seals etc. These are all in beginners level.

In intermediate level. It comes to the knowledge of sealing living beings, making soul weapons.

The Death Reaper seal was also included in it. It is one of the most forbidden knowledge of Uzumaki. Now I know its variation without any price. I also have a counter for the same skill.

Cursed seals are also part of the course. Better than what pedomaru could even think of.

Seals for conscious or mind palace altering. I even got enough knowledge to make better seals of tailed beasts than them.

Advanced seals are way above the previous level. They consist of seals to slow time or increase it.

It can create teleportation channels amongst two seals with enough chakra provided.

Gravitational forces can be altered in larger planes or areas like a whole city.

I was able to learn how five elements or other elements are mixed to form Kekkei Genkai also known as bloodline limits like wood style and many more.

Just using seals and having enough element affinity which is no problem for me being a beast with all affinities.

I made seals with the knowledge and imprinted on my body which negates my weakness to wood style and also my tails sensitivity is now under control, yes even the ears.

These weren't  shown on the system panel as it was not an ability but a seal.

[ABILITY UPDATE

SEALS – LVL 6

• ADVANCED LEVEL SEALS ACHIEVED

• ENTER THE UNDERSTANDING OF COMPLEX ELEMENTS LIKE TIME, SPACE, FORTUNE.]

I just scratched the surface of advanced seals as it is a vast topic.

After advanced seals there are forbidden seals which divulge information regarding the forbidden knowledge of the universe like altering fate, increasing luck without any consequences.

In the advanced version fortune requires equal exchange like for your lucky day everyone around you has a bad day.

These types of seals are usually affecting the flow of reality which one should not touch unless they have a proper grasp or understanding of their nature, they always have a chain effect on things like a time loop.

'Mess with reality and it messes with you, huh'

I will never use this seal. I made a seal to passively increase the quantity of chakra while maintaining the quality. It is  very slow but I don't  have to focus on it because it's automatic and I can focus on other things.

It will let me handle the other things on my plate as I leave the chakra to the seals. Creation of seals is only limited by your imagination. It is not just a set of action or pattern, it requires sequence and what outcome you desire from the seals. 

Depending on your thinking process you can make the worst seal using the best knowledge and you can also create the best seal just using the basic knowledge.

[udhhyogpipesupplier]

All SS Pipe Sizes in One Chart – Seamless & ERW | Udhhyog India

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NB Size (Inch)OD (mm)Wall Thickness (mm)SCH 10SSCH 40SSCH 80S½”21.31.65 – 3.73✓✓✓¾”26.91.65 – 3.91✓✓✓1”33.42.0 – 4.55✓✓✓1½”48.32.0 – 5.08✓✓✓2”60.32.0 – 5.54✓✓✓3”88.92.11 – 7.62✓✓✓4”114.32.11 – 8.56✓✓✓6”168.32.77 – 10.97✓✓✓8”219.13.18 – 12.70✓✓✓10”273.03.4 – 15.09✓✓✓12”323.83.96 – 17.48✓✓✓

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[lonnieslaments]

Paul Bunyan and the Lady on the Moon

Paul sat, alone. He was resting on a giant redwood tree, the only kind of tree that could hold him. He stared into the night sky, amazed. Every day, he is mesmerized by the beauty of his environment, and every night, he is struck with awe at what lies beyond. Stars reflect in his eyes, twinkling like diamonds. Meteor showers, little pieces of heaven coming down to say hello. The moon, like a beautiful pearl fixed in the night sky. The moon amazes him most of all. So beautiful, looking as if it could fit in between his fingers, yet completely unattainable. He loved to stare at the full moon on nights like tonight. His blue ox, Babe, was sleeping on Paul’s legs. 

He petted his friend, and said to the sleeping giant, 

“It sure is beautiful, isn’t it buddy?” Babe did not respond, fast asleep.

“Yeah…” He said, staring back up into the endless sky, “It sure is.”

Suddenly, the still night sky seemed to change. Paul looked up at the moon, and it seemed something was falling from it. Falling fast, and towards him. He stood up quickly, waking his blue friend, who yawned and stared, half asleep and fully confused. It was like a meteor, but much faster, landing in a field just 1000 meters from Paul. Common sense would make Paul assume a massive crater would form from the meteorite. But there was no crater, and no meteorite. Instead, landing gracefully, was a woman. A larger than life woman, almost as tall as Paul, who stood to 29 meters if he didn’t slouch. He was not slouching now, briskly covering the distance between him and the woman.

As he reached her, he beheld her beauty. Her skin, a gray white, the palest he had ever seen. Her eyes, huge, her irises silver, and her pupils, deep pools of black, so deep, Paul could see his amazed face in their reflection. Her hair, blacker than a starless night, flowed down her head like a silk cascade. Her dress, if Paul could manage to break his gaze from her face, was perhaps the most captivating of all. It seems to be white, but as it moved with the night breeze, it sparkled with a seemingly infinite amount of colors; silver, purple, green, orange, like an entire galaxy trapped in the fabric. Paul could not say a word, he could not move an inch, just staring.

“Hi, how are you?” the girl said, finally breaking the silence. Her voice drove chills up Paul’s arms, soft yet booming, calm, yet demanding of an answer.

“Good,” Paul managed to choke out, “Did you just fall from space?” She giggled at this, which in turn made Paul redder than a tomato.

 “Very observant. I’m the lady on the moon.” She said back to him. Paul looked around for a moment, then back to her. 

“But we’re not on the moon, are we? That doesn’t make much sense.” He flashed a grin and she laughed. What a beautiful laugh. Thought Paul.

“I suppose you’re right. You can call me Luna,” the moon girl said, “And you are Paul, yes?” This shocked Paul, who had not given his name yet.

“How do you know that?”

“The moon can be a boring place, Paul, I’ve found quite an entertaining pastime in watching your adventures when I can. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I suppose not, though I am surprised.” He said, thinking back to his adventures. He made sure to live each day to the fullest, and he felt a sense of fulfillment that someone had been able to watch and enjoy them as much as he had. “So, Luna, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” He stared into her eyes, which seemed deep in thought. Finally, her eyes looked back into his.

“I suppose I want to have an adventure of my own,” She said with a smile, “Could you help with that?”

“That’s what I’m best at,” Paul cracked a wide smile of his own, “Let's head south at sunrise.”

And so they did. To kill time waiting for the sun to come up, Paul played his flute for her, made from a large tree he had cut down when he was a boy. And while dawn cracked and they started to move, Paul pondered what he would show her first. Out of the many thoughts twirling around in his head, Paul grasped one. He wanted to show her one of his proudest creations, what the pioneers call the Grand Canyon. And so they went. When they finally arrived, Luna was clearly tired, choosing to finish the trek riding on Babe’s back, but when she saw the beautiful canyon, she perked right up. Paul helped her climb down into it, and they explored for a while, Luna fascinated with the layers of earth uncovered by the many large cracks in the ground. 

“Paul, what if this canyon was filled with water? It would make a lovely swimming hole for us and Babe, don’t you think?” she asked, her large inquisitive eyes looking at him. He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing a little.

“Well sure, but there’s not normally any rain around these parts, I’m afraid.”

“Oh that’s no trouble at all! Watch this, Paul!” She raised her arms into the air, and dark clouds pooled above them, eventually causing a torrential downpour. “Being the crown princess of the moon comes with some perks, like controlling the Earth’s water!” She yelled to Paul over the rain.

“Amazing… simply amazing.” Paul stared in wonder at the clouds, then at her. “You’re something special, aren’t you, Princess?” Her white cheeks turned red.

“I’m glad you think so.”

And so they swam. Babe thoroughly enjoyed splashing around in the fresh rainwater. As the afternoon melted away, They got out of the canyon, and Luna raised her arms back into the air, Paul watching in awe as the water rose back into the atmosphere, turned back into deep, dark clouds, then dispersed again. 

For the next many days they traveled around the west. The geysers of Yellowstone, the sequoia trees of Yosemite, the endless miles of magical rock in South Dakota's badlands. Near this was Mount Rushmore, a mountain made from one of the times Paul and Babe’s wrestling got out of hand. Luna got quite a laugh from that story as Paul told it. They went to New Mexico to explore the miles of the white sand desert.

On the 5th day, they went back to Wyoming, as Luna said she wanted to climb some real mountains that day. Paul took her to the Grand Tetons. They decided it would be best if Babe stayed at the base of the mountain. As they climbed, the sun began to fall, and golden light showered upon the two. Paul stared at her as she climbed, amazed by her beauty and dedication to adventure. They climbed for many hours, and the air became colder, thinner, as twilight began to poke holes in the sky and stars shined through. Eventually, as nightfall became absolute, they reached the summit. There, they finally rested, Luna in Paul’s arms as they stared into the starry night, the moon bigger than Paul had ever seen. After what seemed like an eternity holding one another, but at the same time only an instant, Luna stood. She faced Paul as he stood with her, tears in her eyes.

“Paul, I’m so sorry.”

“Why, Princess? What’s the matter?”

“This adventure I’ve had you take me on, it will be our only one.”

“What do you mean? Why?”

“My father, The Man on the Moon, he’s very sick. Soon I will have to take his job forever.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, Luna.”

“This adventure, it’s the only one I’ve ever had, the only one I will ever have. I had us come up here because I’m returning to the moon tonight.”

“Luna…”

“I know Paul, and I want you to know I never want this adventure to end, I never want to lose you. But I have to. I can’t ever see you again.”

With this, Paul stepped closer to Luna, and cupped her face in his hands. 

“My dear Luna, don’t be foolish. You will never lose me. Each time the tide rolls in and I feel the water hit my legs, that will be me feeling you. Feeling your presence. Each night, I will stare at the moon, knowing you are staring back. You will see me every night I see the moon, I promise. And when the moon wanes, I will wait patiently for your return. And when my time on Earth is done, I will scrape the heavens, and become stardust, so we can be together forever. You will not lose me, ever.” With this, he kissed her. And she knew what it was like to be human. She knew what a real adventure must be full of; love.

“I guess this is goodbye, Paul.” She said as they pulled away, tears in both their eyes.

“Goodbye doesn’t exist for people like us.” He said with a bittersweet smile.

“You’re very right.” She said, kissing him one last time, then floating off to the moon. He stared for a very long time. Until she was a speck, until she was nothing. Until the moon was the only thing left he could see. That great beautiful pearl in the endless sea of space held his ultimate treasure. And for now, he was content. Because he knew he would see her again, no matter what.

Dawn was breaking when he made it back to the summit. Babe looked confused, not knowing where Luna had gone. But he could tell Paul was depressed, so he curled up to him, trying to console him. Paul rubbed behind his ears.

“Thanks Babe. How about we head east? I need some new surroundings.” And so Paul and Babe went, chasing the sunrise, looking for new adventures so The Lady on the Moon could be entertained.

Written August 9th, 2025. By Lonnie Latimore.

My first true short story, I don't think it's perfect but it has a lot of elements I'd love to include in more polished pieces someday. Paul Bunyan is an amazing character.

[allservices01]

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[sakaiyuji234]

Female General’s Code, Fight for His Majesty

Chapter 4

*MTL*

Xiaolu's injury is almost healed, and she can jump around like before.

    Last time, Chen'ai and Xiaolu talked about the Jade Blood Sword. Xiaolu really wants to go and take a look. Besides, the rich man Bai Yang's house is not far from Dongyu Village, it's quite close. It would be even better if she could see the most beautiful woman in the world.

    Xiaolu told Chen'ai about her thoughts, initially Chen'ai was reluctant to let Xiaolu go. However, since Xiaolu had decided to go out on her own, he was unable to stop her.

After sending her thousands of miles away, finally they must say goodbye.

    Chen'ai waved goodbye to Xiaolu, knowing in his heart that she was about to embark on a journey over rivers and lakes, not knowing when she would come back.

    But for Xiaoluzi, who has no family feuds or national hatred, she is worry-free, so what is there to be afraid of?

    ——————

    Zidu City has been very prosperous in recent days. The flow of people is more than five times that of usual times. Both inns and many small shops are crowded with people.

This place is now filled with individuals of all kinds, each with their own set of eyes and ears. Many people come here for the Jade Blood Sword, but they also come to admire the world's most beautiful woman. Not only that, many assassins are waiting for an opportunity to hide in Zidu City.

    Xiaolu walked in the crowded crowd, and after asking around, she learned that in the past few days, Chu Sheng and Bai Yang would trade at the largest "Fulai Inn" in Zidu City.

    Thinking that she didn't even have a place to stay tonight, Xiaolu looked around all the way, eager to find a place to stay for the night.

    But curiosity made her walk all the way to the Fulai Inn. At this time, the Fulai Inn was heavily guarded. She wanted to go in and take a look, but was stopped by the soldiers at the door. They scolded, "Where did you come from, you ignorant girl, get out!"

    Seeing that the soldier ignored her, Xiaolu felt tired, so she sat down on the side of the road ten meters away from the Fulai Inn.

    At this time, a voice suddenly rang in Xiaolu's ears, "Little ghost is here to watch the fun."

    The voice sounded mature, and there was no lack of provocation in the words.

    In front of Xiaolu, a man in his early forties appeared. He had his hands folded in front of his chest, wearing plain clothes, with a little stubble on his face. In his hand was a tattered sword.

    Xiaolu stared at the sword with wide eyes, wondering which great god was this? She didn't provoke him. She was just an insignificant spectator among the many people in Zidu City.

    Conquered by the dumbfounded look of the little girl, Feng Er pointed his sword at her and said, "What are you looking at? I'm talking about you, little brat."

    Xiaolu could only look at the uncle who was looking for trouble with a blank expression.

    Feng Er laughed, "Are you scared by my majestic and imposing manner?"

    Xiaolu looked up. He was looking down at her, and his figure was facing the sun. Her eyes and his head just formed a diagonal line with the sun.

    The scorching sun made her shrink her head and cover her eyes tightly with both hands. It was dark, so how could she see it carefully?

    So if she had to give this uncle a score, six points for his appearance, and full marks for his narcissism. Xiaolu nodded and said, "You are very handsome, you are very handsome."

Xiaolu, who had just started out, did not dare to offend this narcissistic hero, because he had a sword in his hand. This big city was not as simple as that small fishing village. If she said something wrong, her head would probably be separated from her body.

    Feng Er just thought that the child was terribly stupid, and said, "That's about it. You have nothing to do. Let's go."

    After that, he walked away with his tattered sword. He was just bored, but he found a girl who was more bored than himself, so he chatted with her, but the other party was so clumsy.

    Xiaolu shook her head secretly for the uncle who chatted with her for no reason. She was a little tired. After a while, she fell asleep against the big pillar in front of the inn.

    ——————

    When she woke up, the people on the roadside had surrounded her. Seeing them laughing at her, Xiaolu was puzzled.

    A child holding a gourd string laughed and said, "Beggar!"

    Everyone laughed at the word beggar.

    There have been many beggars in the Purple Capital City. She has become a rarity!

    Facing the pointing of the crowd, all directed at her face. What on earth is on her face!

    At this time, another child shouted, "Ah, the black-faced Guan Gong!"

    She subconsciously wiped her face with her hand, stretched out her hand and saw that all five fingers were black!

    Oh my God, could it be that her death date has come, so this time travel has turned this miracle into decay, her face began to turn black... fester... turn into bones... disappear...

    She wanted to faint directly, she was sitting on the ground, but no one came to help her!

    It turned out that Feng Er made a brilliant appearance while she was sleeping soundly. He used a brush to write the word "beggar" on her forehead solemnly, but it was still not enough to satisfy him, so he painted her face black, nodded and happily flew to the opposite tower.

    So, he just lay on the chair, drinking and humming, watching her jokes with great peace of mind, and she was completely unaware.

    ——————

    Perhaps attracted by the crowded crowd, Shi Sanfeng, the shopkeeper of Fulai Inn, came over all the way shyly. She thought something big had happened, but it turned out that it was just a beggar who had sneaked into the Purple Capital City at some point.

    Shi Sanfeng gently blocked her face with her feather fan, and saw the girl's dark face, shabby clothes, and stupid look, and couldn't help laughing softly. Then, she took out a silver ingot from her pocket and threw it gently in front of her.

    Seeing this, the onlookers also untied their silver bags. Of course, only a few threw silver coins, and most threw the resounding copper coins to her.

    Listening to the rustling copper coins on the ground and looking at the people who were so kind to her, she always felt that something was wrong. So, Xiaolu put her finger to her nose and sniffed. She found that it did not smell like her own skin, but more like ink.

    She realized that it was not that she was going to die, but that someone had smeared ink all over her face for no reason, and she slept like a dead pig, completely unaware of what that person had done!

    By the way, who was so bored to stage this prank!

    Liu Huansheng and his two siblings happened to be on their way here. When Liu Xianer saw this girl begging openly, she flew to her and said, "Pick up the silver in front of you. From now on, you will follow me and be my personal maid. I guarantee you will not starve to death."

    Liu Xianer thought to herself, although this girl is ugly, she is chivalrous and righteous. She is so pitiful that she has to be helped.

    When Liu Xianer arrived, there was a ringing sound of bells.

    Standing in front of Xiaolu was a young and lovely female warrior. She was carrying a beautiful sword, wearing pink, with many silver bells around her waist, and of course, there was a rope around her waist, with a pink whip tied in the middle of the rope.

    In Xiaolu's opinion, this female warrior had a wide range of hobbies.

    Xiaoluzi replied "Oh" obediently, then gently picked up the various loose silver coins in front of her, held them in both hands, and handed them to Liu Xianer, saying: "Girl, I won't go with you. I came to this city to see the Sword of Blood and Jade."

    What a country girl, do you deserve to see the Sword of Blood and Jade? Shi Sanfeng, who secretly mocked Xiaolu in her heart, walked up to her gently, gently held her hand, and said: "Girl, you should go with this girl, it's better than begging here. You are so young, you should find a proper job."

    Hearing this, Xiaolu looked a little aggrieved. The noblewoman in front of her had a gentle expression and spoke in a sincere and generous manner. Although she spoke with conviction, as if she wanted to give the whole universe to warm herself, she was not someone who only wanted to make a living by begging.

    Xiaolu stared at everyone with her eyes. She first thanked them and then said to them respectfully: "All kind people, I appreciate your kindness, but I really came to see the Jade Blood Sword."

    Liu Xianer, who had already received the silver, saw that the girl was so unwilling to listen to her advice, so she stepped forward and dragged her, saying: "What are you looking at the Jade Blood Sword? Come on, follow me to wash my clothes for the past few days."

    For Liu Xianer, a martial arts practitioner, it was easy to capture Xiaolu. Seeing that Xiaolu still had some resistance, she gently tied her two wrists tightly with a rope, and then pulled her up at the other end.

    Seeing that Liu Xian'er was so unreasonable, Liu Huansheng started to deal with beggars as she did, so he said righteously: "Liu Xian'er, don't mess around."

    Liu Xian'er immediately blinked at Liu Huansheng and said pitifully: "Brother, this girl is so pitiful, don't you see the word beggar written on your forehead!"

    She would pretend to be pitiful to her brother, but she couldn't stand the little deer who was begging with great fanfare, so how could she ignore it!

    When the little deer heard that there was still the word "beggar" on her forehead, there was also embarrassment on her dark face, but she could do nothing about it. She didn't understand who was playing a prank!

    No hatred or resentment! He actually played with her like this. But think about it, this Liu Xian'er! This is not the righteous person in the mouth of Brother Chenhui, why is he so barbaric and willful. The little deer was going crazy. It was nothing for everyone to laugh at him. If she had to follow her as a slave in the future, how could she make his way in the world!

    A sharp cry came from the little deer's mouth.

    "Let me go!"

    "Help!"

    But Liu Xian'er didn't care how she yelled, she thought she was helping her! Seeing this, Liu Huansheng could only shake his head secretly and walked away.

    Such a little deer, naturally, could not get any help from heaven or earth, and could only let Liu Xian'er drag him around the street.

    And Feng Er, who was still on the tower, couldn't help but stand up, holding the sword, and looked at her with a laugh.

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[cryptid-killjoy]

Flotsam noticed the Scout-doo Thomas was sporting and taming back into shape as they first drove away.

"It'll settle long before we get there, love. Don't worry. Always does. Wouldn't letcha embarrass yerself." He said as he reached over and gave comb through of his own fingers over and around his ear as he often did once settled in the car unable to quit touching the man.

"Although you know we have anime styles on lock if we really wanted for any costumed event." He teased. "We could both be mad styling."

He'd nod his head about the hotels. "Good idea."

Then he had a second thought. "Or camping store?"

He had no idea if people were allowed to hang around Malin Head over night considering how watched over Skellig was, but it was an idea. He'd look that up too momentarily not that he was always a rule follower, but he liked to know what he was getting himself into before he began.

"Exactly. You get me." Thomas seemed to understand right what Flotsam was trying to explain so all was right with the world. But, then he really started laughing.

"You, me, camping, or a good hotel bed? In more other words famous words of Jimi Hendrix. Are You Experienced? Fuck yeah I am and I know what happens in both situations. Aint gonna be no shrinkage here."

Then Flotsam contemplated lighthouses being romantic.

"Hmm. Never really thought about it. I heard Willem say that before, calls it his candle on the water, and I mostly just figured he was high and liked the ocean like me since he's a seafaring type guy. I do see artists always trying to paint them like it's some kind of symbolism. I've always gotten the ships and the anchors. People get those as tatts endlessly. I think what bothered me about lighthouses was it was the sign of trying to get back to land or reality while I was always trying to make it to the ocean or like get out of my head when it felt so far out of reach and reality sucked. I'm a poetic guy like that. Even Kuzco has a thing about lighthouses I noticed. Not entirely sure the story there except for his estate is also ocean side. I figure it correlates somehow. Willem's about it. Kuzco's about it. Even Sparky lived in one. She said it and I never went there out of spite of her family outside of riding some duck boats. It was on the river Mississip, not the ocean. Now you said it. That's it. I have to investigate this. We have to go up the lighthouse and see what all the fuss is about."

Flotsam loved Thomas was getting to do all the things he wasn't allowed if wanted to. That was golden. He wanted to be that for Thomas. Flotsam read somewhere most toy sales were from adults buying toys for themselves not children and that made him smile somewhere in his heart. People were allowing themselves to play more and not be so serious. When Harry Potter was mentioned Thomas said the most perfect thing. "That's it. You nailed it. That's exactly it. That's one of the many reasons I love your fine ass. Excuse me while I picture it on a bicycle again with Jetsam on the back because that booty fine. You're willing to do that with me. Everyone got boring and uptight. When we read a story, the words become a movie in my head. I see our movie everywhere. It becomes real."

Bilbo and Frodo indeed.

"I'm ready for our next adventure now."

If Flotsam was a video game his happiness meter would be rising to full.

"Okay, so I just booked us a hotel room in Donegal County not too far away to keep our options open. Also, luckily unlike Skellig this place does have actual toilets and coffee within human range since it's a peninsula not a remote tiny island. So, we're open to wing it and go with the flow do this however to our heart's content. Even a pub. Apparently the one all the Star Wars' actors hung out in since it was so close."

Flotsam leaned against the edge of his seat as the drive went on. Poor Thomas. Flotsam was going to get a snooze in before they got there and he wasn't.

Those tombstones, still standing on the small secret island. The only thing that ever showed that people had been there. Maybe one day, in a couple hundred of years time, some anthropologists will come upon it and think that these people had the surname Balls, or something. It would certainly be an interesting find.

Although they shared sight, Thomas was still finding himself surprised by Scout at all turns. He didn’t actively spy through her, or pay that much attention unless she seemed in trouble. He got to see his husband through his own eyes, what better view could there be than that? So the fact that she did things like this was a shock, pun intended. He laughed though, finding it all in good fun, even though he had very staticky hair now, that wouldn’t sit just right. “Well played, Scout, well played,” He chuckled.

He did keep running his fingers through his hair when they got onto the road, leaving their kids behind, five of em. He entirely trusted Scout and Dale to take care of the triplets, they’d both been such a help over the past year. This was their time to relax. To not worry about carrying strollers in awkward places, and making sure that grabby hands were entertained and that their bottles were the correct temperature and wet nappies. He was leaving that behind like it was something tangible he could throw out the window.

Flotsam had full control over the soundtrack of the drive. It was his birthday, or so called birthday, or what have you. He’d celebrate it whenever Flotsam wanted to celebrate it. And he was really glad that it was happening while they were up in here Ireland, rather than at home where he could … well, mope a bit. Not that Thomas would let that happen for very long.

“You can go ahead and look up what hotels there are in the area, whatever one strikes your fancy,” Thomas said with a grin. Normally he would have done that but he was focused on the driving. Whenever he drove with a member of his family, he did his utmost not to be distracted. This was precious cargo right here.

“I getcha, even the most beautiful sights seem duller when you’ve got something on your mind,” Thomas said with a nod. “I’m glad we’re doing it now, doing it together. In our own way - although Alaska sounds like it’s beautiful… for your birthday, I want to erase the cold and any possibility of shrinkage,” He joked,his eyes darting over to Flotsam in the hope that he would have a bit of a laugh too. “There’s no one I’d rather be seeing it with you than, love.”

Thomas was an absolute trivia nerd, so he was committing each of these facts to memory. It helped that it was Flotsam’s voice that was saying them. That always made it so much easier to listen. He grinned like a schoolboy as the music was changed to Hendrix. “We’ll listen to it countless times, I’m sure, and I won’t mind a bit.”

“I’m sure Go-Go would have a field day with that,” He said, eyebrows raised. He felt like he needed some sort of textbook in order to talk to Go-Go sometimes. Just a simple question could sometimes get a very technical answer, like the girl forgot that not everyone was some sort of engineer. “Always liked the idea of lighthouses. They seem romantic in a way.”

Thomas enjoyed the Star Wars movies, but it was the more high fantasy that he enjoyed. Elves and knights and goblins and magic, all that sort of stuff. Basically, rebelling against his parents in his own way, since such things like that were frowned upon. Anything magical was basically considered a sin. Couldn’t even do a card trick without his mother’s voice droning on behind him and a smack to the back of the head.

He had no idea about the Harry Potter thing, but that was a pretty cool fact to know too. “I always loved feeling like a part of the stories I read. Last couple of years, it’s been feeling like the real thing. It’s pretty special,” He said, resting his hand on Flotsam’s thigh and rubbing it gently.

He grinned as Flotsam assured him of what his favorite was - and then changed it to an even better answer.

“And like the book that Bilbo gives to Frodo - we’ve got a lot of pages we can fill up with our own adventures.”

[hirocimacruiser]

Tommykaira R-z brochure translation.

The wonders of Tommykaira Magic that you can experience while driving. R

Total balance with a high degree of perfection commensurate with 530ps.

The displacement has been increased to 2700cc, achieving a maximum output of 530 horsepower and a maximum torque of 54.52kgm. To achieve this, various types of tuning have been applied. For example, the crankshaft, which is the most important element for bringing out the best performance of the engine, is an original crankshaft manufactured by Fandon in the UK. Highly rigid full counter type provides excellent balance performance. Furthermore, the R-z uses an H-section connecting rod and forged aluminum piston, making it both highly rigid and lightweight. What's more, it achieves well-balanced tuning. In addition, the R-z uses metal head gaskets, high-lift camshafts, valve springs, and racing plugs to bring out the best in the pistons, connecting rods, and crankshafts that are the main moving parts. Composite Radiator Improves cooling effect by using NI water pump.

I got it.

Changes to the intake and exhaust system have resulted in a significant increase in efficiency through the use of a stainless steel exhaust system with suction from the front pipe and a racing type intercooler. By increasing the size of the fuel system parts and strengthening the drive system, you can enjoy ample torque even when driving at low rpm around town. What's more, the sense of power, extension, and revving at high rpm will captivate anyone sitting in the driver's seat.

suspension tuning is

"High ride comfort and handling"

Balance in Dimensions.” During normal driving

Passenger-friendly ride

While realizing the taste, wine day

It is sharp and has excellent turning performance when turning.

Tomita has achieved this goal and has received rave reviews from many quarters.

It's a magic called Kaira Magic.

The front brake has been strengthened to control the 530 horsepower. Uses AP 6-pot calipers, AP brake rotors, and PFC brake pads. This is a highly reliable braking system that responds precisely to the driver's wishes.

[mechanism]

engine body

・Cylinder head/port polishing

・Cylinder block/boring, internal polishing

・Original crankshaft made in UK Fandon

・Special H section connecting rod

・Special forged piston

・Titanium coated piston ring

・Metal head gasket

・High lift camshaft

・Reinforced valve spring, valve guide

・Racing plug

computer unit

・R-z dedicated computer unit

cooling system

・Large capacity water-cooled oil cooler

Water pump for high speed N1

Intake and exhaust system

・All exhaust system

・Large capacity intercooler

・Special turbine

fuel system

Large capacity air flow meter

large capacity injector

・Large capacity fuel pump

drive system

・Twin plate clutch

Reinforcement parts

・Strut tower bar (with master cylinder stopper)

・Reinforced engine mount

・Enhanced mission mount

[Suspension]

Brake system

・AP 6-pot caliper & rotor (F)

・PFC brake pad

suspension

・Bilstein original shock absorber

・Original spring (F)

Original double spring (R)

tires/wheels

・Forged magnesium cut wheel “PRO R” 9.5×19+22

・DUNLOP FORMULA FM901 275/30ZR19

Reinforcement parts

・Stainless mesh brake hose

・Front tension rod (pillow ball)

* [Exterior] and [Interior] are the same specifications as R-s.

Tommykaira R-Z SPECIFICATION

PRICE ¥10,500,000-

PERFORMANCE

Max Output 530ps/7300rpm

Max Torque 54.52kgm/6000rpm

ENGINE

RB26DETT STRAIGHT-6 DOHC Turbo with multi-cup Intercooler

Piston Displacement: 2700cc

Bore x Stroke: 87.0mm x 75.7mm

BODY

Length: 4620mm

Width: 1785mm

Height: 1335mm

Wheelbase: 2665mm

Tread: Front 1496mm

Rear 1496mm

LAYOUT

4 Wheels Drive

Transmission: 6MT

Brakes:(F) 6 Piston Opposed Type Caliper + Ventilated Disc

Brakes:(R) 2 Piston Opposed Type Caliper + Ventilated Disc

Wheels: 9.5JJX 19 (Front&Rear)

Tire: 275/30ZR19 (Front&Rear)

Suspension : Original Shock absorber + Original Coil Spring

Steering: Rack & Pinion < SUPER HICAS >

*Price is vehicle price delivered at Kyoto store, registration fees and consumption tax not included US specifications, data, etc. are subject to change without notice. *Detailed options, equipment, body color, etc. are based on genuine Nissan. Catalog photos may look different from the actual products as they are printed materials. For inquiries and requests..

TOMITA

dream factory

http://www.tommykaira.com