#navy chair

[plasticbubbleboy]

[theyeartochange]

Guest Bedroom Mid-sized transitional guest dark wood floor and brown floor bedroom photo with no fireplace and white walls

[alicesbookshelf]

Living Room in San Francisco

Example of a mid-sized transitional formal and open concept medium tone wood floor living room design with gray walls, a standard fireplace, a brick fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[vesperthemes]

Living Room - Transitional Living Room

Large transitional open concept living room idea with a light wood floor and a brown floor, white walls, and a tile fireplace.

[mappingbarcelonapublicart]

Dallas Bathroom Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional master bathroom remodel with shaker cabinets, blue cabinets, an undermount sink, quartz countertops, white countertops, and a built-in vanity. The bathroom also has a single sink.

[erdman-chairs]

Who really was the biggest star of this scene in The Matrix (1999)? Keanu Reeves? Hugo Weaving? Or maybe... the Erdman chair??

[elise-rosy-unicorn]

Midcentury Living Room - Enclosed

[skitskatdacat63]

And this too, is vettonso to me:

[rabbitcruiser]

Benches/Chairs (No. 69)

Kingston, ON (three pics)

Montréal, QC

Chicago, IL (six pics)

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[kitelovr113]

he would love competitive debate

[jamesfitzjamesdotcom]

After Fitzjames and Edward Fanshawe met in the Mediterranean they became very intimate. Fitzjames was noted for his strength and agility which he later displayed in Fanshawe's lodgings in Portsmouth when he broke a chair. As you do.

- Admiral Sir Edward Gennys Fanshawe G.C.B.: A Record. Notes Journals Letters edited by Alice Fanshawe, 1904

[alicesbookshelf]

New York Transitional Living Room Example of a mid-sized transitional enclosed dark wood floor living room design with a music area, white walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[quidittch]

Boston Living Room Ideas for a contemporary formal living room renovation with a dark wood floor, beige walls, and no fireplace

[erdman-chairs]

Who is she?

A supersoldier? A barfly? An environmentalist icon?

The Erdman chair was born the Emeco Navy Chair in 1944 in Hanover, Pennsylvania, USA. The US Navy had commissioned her father, Wilton Carlyle Dinges, to create a supersoldier. Or at least a chair who could survive the Navy’s constant exposure to moisture, salt, and “the occasional torpedo blast.”

After her sheer indestructability turned hazardous to the company business model, she started working at bars and hotels, whoever her sleek looks and alluring call could seduce.

Now the Erdman chair is part of a push for long-lasting products made from sustainable materials. I swear I’m not paid by the company I just think this is so cool.

[dragonkingz159]

Thissss so much of this. Give me the Humanity in Space. Show us why, despite the “grim darkness” of the 41st millennia, it’s worth it to Care about it.

Give me the bittersweet romance between a communications officer and a laborer on the lower decks who can only meet during the shift changes. Or the story of a trio of friends separated by layers of metal and hallways but make it a personal mission to find each other at every opportunity. Make it more interesting by having one of them being an Ogryn and one a budding Pysker or better yet a Blank that they STILL care for.

Give me stories of them shrinking away from the roaming Tech Priests because sometimes they take people away and turn them into something else. Something critical the tech priest says. That some on the ship say is an honor but all they know is that someone is gone and a machine with their face stares back at them.

Give me the story of people fighting tooth and nail against space marines chaos or otherwise because This is OUR Home. Ours. Ours by blood and birth and work and it is holy and sacred despite its flaws. We have made it ours and it has made us it’s. Give me that! Have Them Win.

Just Warhammer frustrates me at times!

Something that I think Warhammer 40,000 storytellers miss sometimes is the sheer scale of their setting. I mean, don't get me wrong - I love the big, dramatic clashes, the characters you can buy in mini form and their convoluted, interwoven lore, the dramatic combats against unstoppable foes across a thousand ruined worlds. But that's the top of the setting, as it were - the most powerful beings in the universe, all fighting for supremacy. And at ground level, the level of the ordinary person, are so many other stories.

Did you know that a Lunar-class void cruiser has a crew of 95,000? Nearly a hundred thousand people, aboard a spaceship five kilometers long. A city, flying through outer space to wage war. Many of those people are proper trained soldiers, fresh from some academy or veterans of long, grueling campaigns, and many more are pressed into service, begrudgingly laying their lives at their Emperor's feet. But, unless the ship is currently actively involved in a really bloody campaign, most of those people were born aboard that ship. Most of their parents were born aboard it. And their grandparents. And their great-grandparents. Lineages stretching back centuries, so far that the original soldier who came aboard has been forgotten. A lot of those people probably know, on some level, that they're aboard a ship flying through space - but a lot of them probably don't, and I guarantee you almost none of them understand what that means. This ship is their world. To look out the window means madness so often that they avoid it - not that windows are readily available anyway. Most of them probably barely even understand that they're fighting. All they know is that when the readouts on their analog instruments display like so, when they hurry to obey the blared orders through the klaxon, the Emperor is pleased with them. They were born into that world. When they were children they did smaller tasks the adults couldn't. Their entire existence was winding metal corridors, laid out according to some archaic design, any logic that might dictate their layout long since degraded after millennia of ignorant maintenance, lit only by emergency lights that have long since become the default. They learned how to read an angle readout or how to relay an order perfectly the way another child might learn history or math. When they grew up, their service was flawless, born of pride and ignorance, and when they grew old and died, their legacy was remembered until it was forgotten. Many were killed in battle, but who cares? They gave their lives to the Emperor - a name whose meaning they don't understand, but whose importance they believe in wholeheartedly, all but synonymous with the commanding officers up above.

Sometimes, the klaxons sound a specific command, and every person on board who understands what it means feels a deep, awful dread as they run to their battle stations. They don't know what a warp jump is. They don't understand they're going from one place to another by the fastest way available. All they know is that, for a time, the ship dips into hell. The corridors go wrong. Things and people might not be where or what they were before. Daemons stalk the halls, and must be killed by any who can hold a lasgun. The overcrowded berths, the little nooks that families find for themselves - they are not private anymore. They are not safe. Things drift through the shift that do not care about the laws of physics, but that delight in killing and torturing human beings. Vast energies shake the ship and tear parts of it away - their home, their world, their existence, the biggest thing they can imagine, assaulted by something bigger. Is it the Emperor's punishment for failure? Is this what battle is? What's going on? They don't know, and no one who does can be bothered to tell them. The dread of those who have seen this before is even worse, because they don't know how long it will be. It might be just a few hours. It might be days, or weeks, or months, or years, or decades. It might be centuries, as the captain of the ship goes hunting daemons deep in the warp - the officers live that long, after all, and have little care for those who don't. There will be people born in hell, who spend their entire lives fighting from the day they can stand, and who die in hell, as old age and need catch up to them and they curl up in a corner to perish. To them, it isn't even hell. It's just the world. The world is death and pain and cruelty, an infinite metal box through which monsters stalk, and sometimes you must run to a battle station and do as you're ordered to do. And sometimes, as they reach forty or fifty or even a ripe old sixty, the ship drops out of the Warp, and, for the final years of their life, they are granted a life of relatively safe service better than anything they ever hoped to dream of.

Those are the kinds of stories I want to see more of. Super-soldiers fighting each other is cool, yes, but I want to see this universe explored. I want stories from the perspective of those that keep the Imperium going, or the aeldar, or the tyranids, or anyone, really. There's just so much potential in this setting. It deserves it.