#not tagging beloved. he's ant sized

[brbarou]

flowers

[dollishmehrayan]

# “SUDDENLY I SEE, THIS IS WHAT I WANNA BE” ── .✦ ( batboys w a zoologist/someone who’s very passionate about animals!reader ⋆౨ৎ )

dollish note ⋆౨ৎ: okay so this was a request by anon (here) and alsoo I’ve been like kinda gone as like much as I said I’d be back in march I thought that my days like have this gap in them where I can write for you guys so I thought why not entertain + carry my life yk? Anywayss enjoy ! <3 tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The Supportive Golden Retriever Boyfriend™

Dick absolutely adores how passionate you are about animals. He finds it so endearing that you can go on a 20-minute tangent about why capybaras are the ultimate chill kings of the animal world literally (we love a supportive king 💪)

He’ll sit there, chin propped in his hand, watching you with literal heart eyes as you explain fun animal facts. "Did you know that sea otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart??”, he just responds with: "Babe, that’s literally us."

When you take him to the zoo, he’s your number-one cheerleader. He’s the guy hyping you up when you go full National Geographic mode. "Damn, look at my girl go! Bet the zookeepers are taking notes."

But also… chaos. You tell him about a random animal, and the next day, you get a text:

Dick: Babe, can we get a capybara?

You: No???

Dick: I already named him Carl. (Bad at name giving)

100% buys you animal plushies. You say you love red pandas? Boom. He’s bringing you a giant red panda plush the size of a toddler.

If he catches you watching animal documentaries at 2 AM, he will absolutely join in. You both end up getting emotionally attached to some random meerkat family.

JASON TODD ── .✦

The “Pretends Not To Care But Absolutely Does” Boyfriend

At first, he acts like it’s no big deal. You start talking about octopus intelligence, and he’s like, “Yeah, cool.” But then he’s actually listening.

You’ll randomly hear him drop animal facts he learned from you in casual conversation. "Did you know crows can recognize human faces?" And then he just walks away like he didn’t just absorb your entire personality.

You try to take him to the zoo. He acts reluctant. "Babe, I’m too old for this." But the second he sees the wolves? Yeah, he’s standing there for 20 minutes, fully invested.

Secretly loves big cats. If a tiger so much as looks at him, he’s like, “Yeah, that’s my guy, he fw me.”

Jason will 100% fake annoyance when you go on animal rants, but he’d never actually tell you to stop. He’ll just shake his head, smirking. "Babe, you’re literally an unpaid Discovery Channel host."

But if anyone ELSE tries to make fun of your animal obsession? Oh, he’s fighting them. "What, you don’t think learning about the mating habits of penguins isn’t interesting? You go right out the door before I drag you to it.”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The “Actually, This Is Fascinating” Nerd Boyfriend

Tim is so invested in your knowledge. He treats every animal fact you tell him like it’s groundbreaking news.

"Wait, wait, explain how ants communicate again?" You blink. "Tim, I’ve told you this three times." "Yeah, but I need to visualize it properly."

Will absolutely go down research rabbit holes just so he can talk to you about animals on your level. You wake up to a text at 3 AM:

Tim: So technically, a shrimp can punch as fast as a bullet?

You think he’s tired when you take him to the zoo? Nope. He’s taking notes. He will challenge the tour guide with additional facts.

If you’re working on any zoology projects, he’s your biggest supporter. Need funding for animal conservation? He’s pulling Wayne Enterprises money and some drake money too.

One time, you found him watching bird videos for fun. When you called him out, he just said, "They're cool, okay?"

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

The “Of Course, My Beloved” Boyfriend

Listen. This is his dream relationship. Animals? Passion for them? You’re his soulmate LOCKEDDD INNNNN.

Will literally test you. "What do you know about Tibetan mastiffs?" If you pass? Immediate respect. If you don’t? "Tt. I will educate you."

You and him are unstoppable in animal debates. No one dares question your combined knowledge. Someone tries to say "cats don’t have feelings"? You and Damian tag-team destroy them.

You 100% have “who loves animals more” competitions. "I saved a hawk yesterday." "Tt. I rehabilitated a stray cat." "I named a baby goat after you." "...Beloved."

Dates? Animal sanctuaries. Zoos. Wildlife reserves. This man is taking you on the most eco-friendly, animal-filled dates ever.

One time, you found him talking to a cow. You swear it understood him. (Batcow ofc 🙂‍↕️)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Very thoughtful husband

Secretly impressed by your knowledge. You caught him actually listening when you explained how dolphins have names for each other.

Would 100% fund a wildlife conservation project just because you’re passionate about it.

(Fuck this man fr I don’t have ideas for him🥲)

[thomase1]

Two broken make a whole

Avenger!Loki×Fem!Avenger!Reader

What would happen if you were an assasin with the Avengers? What would happen if Loki became one of earths mightiest heros too? Can you two become friends? Or even more? Will you be able to move on from your past? Will he be able to move on from his?

Marvel AU; all Avangers are alive, Ragnarok happened.

Slow burn, talks of past abuse and trauma, angst, loss, randomness, a lot of humour, missions so fight scnes, later smut; a LOT of smut.

Every chapter will have individual warnings. 18+ chapters will be marked as such.

-The character Medusa from the Marvel Comics is not this one, I forgot about that character.-

Also, this is going to have a lot of things not matching up with the actual movies, just an example: I still use Jarvis as the AI even though Vision exists in my story. (Friday just isnt as iconic, sorryyyy :D)

I can tag you if you want, just tell me in the comments and I will tag you! ♡

First chapter below.

Chapter two.

Chapter three.

Chapter four.

Chapter five.

Chapter six. 18+

Chapter seven.

Warnings; a bit of cursing, yelling, comedy, bit of Loki thirst, wacky attempt to capture the Avangers characters.

Wordcount: ~3000

Enjoy.

It was a normal day when they arrived. Well, normal for you at least.

You were standing in the common room, half living room, half kitchen. It was early in the day, not long after 1pm, so like any normal adult, you went to make yourself some cereal. This is breakfast for you.

You dont have a mission today, so you obviously slept in.Saying that, you were hopeing for a nice, relaxed day, however your wish was not granted. Your peace is beeing disturbed. Not only with their arrival, but also with a lot of Avangers here to welcome the now additions. Most were at least quiet, but Tony and Steve bickering and bitching like little kids is something else. You also know that with Sam beeing here, you will have to hide your snacks. That guy is always hungry. And Scott can be just as bad, him beeing able to shrink to ant size really makes it difficult to hide stuff from him.

As you reach the cupbord, after climbing onto the counter to reach it, they arrive.

Not quietly of course, no, it was with a loud boom of thunder, almost makeing you fall.

You guessed it, the beloved god of thunger and his infamous brother, the god of mischief, here to join earths mightiest heros. You knew Thor ever since you got here yourself, you are good friends. He could be a bit dull sometimes and very oblivious to, well, about pretty much eveything, but he really is just a giant teddy bear.

You never had the pleasure to meet his brother Loki however. Now, you say pleasure, you havent exactly heard good things. Given that the Avangers are your family and he mind controlled Clint, threw Tony out the highest point of the tower and attacked with an army of freak aliens,... To say you arent that fond of him would be the nicest way of putting it.

There was a whole briefing going on to be prepared for their arrival. Lokis arrival. A few members, such as you, have not been part of the team when he attacked earth, that was the reason for the briefing. So everybody got a list of his abilities and such, something that looks like a wanted poster.

-Lokis powers-

Teleportation, Shapeshifting, forming Energy blasts, casting illusions.

Able to read minds and project his thoughts to others, no physical touch needed.

Skilled in magic (seiðr), skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Genius level intellect.

Heritage: Jotunn.

You have memorized the list of his powers, it worried you. Not only that, no, his whole person worries you, god of mischief and lies, a frost giant. You would be toothless against him. Your weapons would have no effect on him, normal daggers wont pierce his skin. Bullets only leaving bruises. So even your trusted Kunai would fail you. Yes, it worries you.

What also worries you is that his is so damn good looking.

While Thor did assure that "Loki is a changed spirit. He no longer wishes to bring suffering to midgard.", nobody was fully convinced. But you promised Thor to give him a chance; for him. You know he loves his brother, even though they dont really express it too much in the crazy relationship they have.

So now you stand here, in your PJ's, pink fluffy socks and hair up in a very messy bun. So much for first impressions.

The others swarmed around Thor, who was booming with delight to see his friends again, hugging his old pals way too tightly. They look like those anti stress balls with eyes that pop out in his giant arms.

Loki on the other hand stood two steps behind his brother, seeming pretty annoyed by the whole ordeal. It appears he isnt one for big gatherings either.

You get away from the cabinet and lean onto the kitchen island, listening to the things Thor has to say. He ends up talking about new Asgard, which is where they came from right now.

After they successfully stopped Thanos, they went to new Asgard, help build the new kingdom further. Everybody thought Thor would, naturally, become king of new Asgard, with both Odin and Frigga dead. But he renounced his claim to the throne, leaving Valkyrie and Heimdall to be voted as the rulers of new Asgard since Loki was voted out by the people.

"Why dont you take that throne already? Oh blondie...", Tony claps him on the shoulder, shakeing his head. "I do not wish to rule, I only wish to build a peaceful future. Possibly with a family of my own." "Let me guess...", Tonys lips thin in a upside down smile. Several people, in unison, answer for him, "With Jane.". Thor nods solemnly and proceeds to tell the others about going to meet Jane later, seeing if they could be able to reconcile.

Poor guy still loves her.

It is the same old story; any time you two really have a chat, you end up at the talk of how much he misses her. You do feel bad, but youve heard it so many times by now. At some point you lost interest and went back to retreiving your cereal, only to realize somebody put the empty box back into the cupbord.

This really took the cake; your day officially ruined. You snatched the empty box and stormed to your roommates and teammates, doubting it was your roommates Nat and Bruce.

"Ok, which assh-" "LANGUAGE!", Steve heckles. You shoot him a fuming, warning, look and continue, "WHO ate all the cereal and put the empty box back?!", you look through the small crowd of people.

Nobody speaks.

Peter looks terrified, but you know he wouldnt, hes just a little timid. Then you spot it, the slight panic in Tonys eyes. You point at him, "You! I see the panic in your eyes, you did it!", you stride towards him. As you do, your bun loosens and plaps down the side, Tony smirks and reaches for your hair. You snap your head towards him, "Do you want to lose a hand today?" He hurriedly pulls back, "Ok ok I did it. I was hungry ok? I'll buy you some later.". You pout, "So am I! This is my day off and all I wanted was a relaxing day and now I cant even have my breakfast!".

"Its after 1 Y/n.", Nat says matter of factly. "What didnt you understand when I said 'day off' and 'relaxing day'?"

Clint looks at you dead serious, "No thats actually the perfect day off. I'm with you on that one." "You also love hanging out in your jammies and pink fluffy socks with your hair in a bun, stuffing your face with snacks all day?", you ask him in play seriousness. He nods, "Yes of course, normally I do paint my nails and put on a nice face mask too.", he plays along. "I always make myself a nice salad and go shopping.", Scott joins in with a nasal tone.

You three break character at that point and fall into laughter. Nat just shakes her head with a grin. Its a real talent of them, they always lighten the mood.

Your stomach growls, "I'm so hungryyy.", you whine. "Cant you just eat something other than cereal?", Sam asks. You think, "I mean, I do have some leftover food in the fridge and some cooki- Why are you looking at me like that?". Sam's jaw flexed when you mentioned the cookies and Bruce looked away when you said leftovers. "Oh come on! When did you even eat my cookies? I saw you come in, thinking 'oh, Sam is here I need to hide my snacks'.", you pout again, but now you are actually a little sad, feeling betrayed. "When you put your hair up. I'm sorry ok? I didnt know it was your day off and you wanted to relax.", he says a little guilty.

"And I didnt know it was your left over food. I'm really sorry.", Bruce says. Oh man, you cant be mad at Bruce, he probably worked late again and forgot to eat until he almost passed out. It has happened before, Tony found him. Ever since that day Jarvis is able to tell the heart rate and general well beeing of people inside the tower.

You sigh, "Its ok guys, just... ask in the future ok? I just remembered, I should have some waffles- oh god please no...", you see Scotts smile drop and know exactly what that means. "I thought they were Tonys, I'm sorry.", he exclaims. "Hey! I'd be very careful Tumbelina. If I held a grudge, I could, litrally, smash you like a bug.", Tony looks at him through hooded eyes.

You sigh and awkwardly sway on the balls of your feet, "I'M HUNGRYYYYY!". That got everybodys attention, all eyes are now on you and you blush a little.

You arent just hungry, no, you are hangry. A dangerous state for an assasin to be in.

"Ok. Lets just settle this. Pizza on Tony?", Steve looks at Tony. He rolls his eyes but nods. Just as you happily turn away you realize how rude you actually are.

"Oh and-", you walked to Thor, giving him a big hug which he happily returns, "Welcome back thunder.". "Y/n, havent lost your wit I see.", he says with a chuckle as you pull apart. "No, I havent. You got to with these scatterbains.", you chuckle too. You hear several offended noises in the room which only seals your words.

You turn around to Loki who still looks pretty detached, but also so unfairly handsome. "Havent had the fortune of meeting you up to now. Y/n, alias Medusa.", you put out a hand to shake, looking into his eyes.

His eyes remind you of dense treetops; a dense green through which the bright blue sky shimmers. He looks at you for a second before stepping closer, giving your hand a firm squeeze, "Loki, god of mischief. I am certain you have heard only the very best of me.", he smirks.

He smells of leather, mint and winter. Like fresh snow. Devine. You bite your tongue to distract yourself.

"Yes, precisely. Like throwing Tony off the rooftop.", you smirk back. "Alright, thats it! Go order that Pizza before I change my mind!", Tony interrupts with an offended hand at his hip. "Lets order together then.", you suggest, squeezing onto the couch next to Peter. You like the kid, you are only 4 years older than him, so you get along quite well.

After 20 minutes you finally ordered all 11 Pizzas. Took Thor a bit to convice Loki to give it a try, saying 'it tastes like Valhalla in a box'. And you agree with that analogy wholeheartedly.

You took Peter with you to collect them from the lobby and going straight back to the common room. You didnt even have time to announce the feast before Sam and Thor snatched the boxes out of Peters and your arms. Its a mistery how they didnt scatch up your exposed skin. "You guys act like you havent been fed in weeks!" "I have not eaten in five hours! I am practially starving. It takes substance to maintain this physique!", Thor tries to reason. Loki rolls his eyes, one of the first emotions you saw on his face up to now. "So you have a reason for nearly takeing my arm, but that one just stole and ate my cookies!", you point to Sam who is already opening every box to find his Pizza. Hearing you he just shrugs and continues looking.

You sit down again, next to Peter who sat back in the same spot he just left. After a few moments everybody is seated and has their Pizza.

To Thors joy, Loki enjoys the food he was praising to him. Not openly of course, but he couldnt keep the corner of his mouth from twitching up. Everybody knows, no complaint is praise enough.

"So, where will you guys live?", Steve asks to break the silence. Loki just looks at Thor, who swallows audibly at the question, "Well, we would need to look for a place to stay except- You know, if we could take residency in your noble castle Stark.". You stop eating, giving this your undevided attention. "I mean sure, theres enough space. Just dont call the Hammer through the walls; better yet, dont break stuff at all. And behave!", he looks directly to Loki at the last part. He raises his hands in mock surrender, "I wouldnt dare.". "Dont worry Stark, I wont let the goat mistreat your benevolence. Thank you for your kindness to not leave us without shelter.", the blonde god bows with a teethy smile.

Your eyes wander to Loki who is seated on a hassock, jaw clenched at the nickname Thor just called him. Mighty lord above, that jaw- You swear something inside you just ignited. And those thighs, wait. Why the hell are you staring at his thighs? Why must that armour of his be so tight in those places? I bet he purposefully got them made like that. God get a grip woman! You pinch yourself and peel your eyes away from that sinful eye candy which now even lives here. Ugh, thats gonna be a challenge.

"I know, I'm such a self less guy, right?", Tony says, shoving a piece of pizza in his mouth. You scoff at him, and even Bruce raises an eyebrow at him.

Which reminds you of bounderies that have yet to be set. "No takeing my stuff and no going in my room without permission!", you raise a pointer finger, pointing between both of them. "Of course lady Y/n.", Thor assures you, to which you narrow your gaze. As long as there is enough pop tarts your food should be safe from Thor, but Loki?

You will have to see what happens.

That dude can teleport, shapeshift, he could go into your room without you even knowing. The thought makes you tingly, NO! Get your mind out of your panties Y/n! Hell, he could probably even shift to look like Nat! You nearly spirall down the lane of paranoia but you shrug it off. You panicking would only encurage him.

"If there are two more residents now, we really have to start writing down groceries. This cant keep on happeing, or somebody's gonna get shanked." Tony looks at you annoyed, "Just tell Jar what to get. It will show up in the app. As I've told all of you at least ten times.". "Hey! Dont get pissy with me! At least I try to make a homemade meal every now and then, everybody else just orders food! No wonder Fury orders annual fitness exams!", you lay an offende hand on your chest. "Just tell him in the future!", Tony rolls his eyes.

"Fitness exams? Well, that is new.", Thor laughs. "Oh yea, these [you point at Tony, Sam, Scott and Clint] have got cought one night, throwing something which can only be described as a grease feast.", you tell the god who hadnt been here for a few months. The culprets avert their gaze, clint starts whistling and Scott clears his throat. "That sounds revolting and yet I want to be part of a feast like that.", Thor mutters, makeing you face palm yourself and Sam clap his shoulder with a nod. "Well, you will have to do it secretly, Fury is onto all of us. Which reminds me, we have to burn the evidence of this right here or he'll make us do burpees again.", the memory makes you shudder.

"Oh come on, a bit of exercise would be really good for all of us.", Steve says sternly, earning several annoyed grunts. "A bit of exercise?! Have you forgotten what Fury did last time?", Tony says in a higher than usual voice. "It wasnt that bad-", Steve tries to continue but several people cut him off. "NOT THAT BAD?!"

"Thats easy coming from the super soldier!", Nat speaks up. Yes, even she struggled during the Burpee incident. "I had to wear my suit to even go to the bathroom! Do you know how much Pepper mocked me?!", Tony bores his fingers into Caps chest, furious from the reminder of those days.

"Three days I couldnt move! And the following week was hell on earth, every movement hurt! Even the hulk was out of it!", Bruce whines. You swear you heard Loki snicker and whisper "Server you right.". Brucy was in so much pain, the hulk broke out, but even he couldnt move. It was a pathetic sight, the unbeatable hulk starfishing in the hallway, whiped out by some burpees. If Loki knew, he probably wouldnt stop laughing, given his and the hulks history.

"I couldnt lift my arm to press the elevator buttons! I CRAWLED to my room, THATS how bad it was!", you damn near cry at the memory.

"You are all just out of shape!", Steve shakes his head. "Shut up!", Nat throws a magazine at him but he, of course, catches it.

"I'm so glad to not be an official member yet. I think I would have died that day, I'm not even kidding.", Peter says small. "Lucky.", you mumble.

There is a few moments of solemn silence, until Thor says, "So when are we doing the next grease feast?", earning himself a room full of offended glares.

[musicgoon]

Recommended Reading

You can find all of my weekly recommended reading link lists with the RR-tag. Dedicated link posts can be found with the link tag. For real-time news and article sharing, follow me on Twitter and like my Facebook page. I love reading links and your comments, so please keep in touch. And to get all of my blog articles, exclusive insight, and more from my many projects, you can subscribe to my newsletter.

Christianity

Raise Your Song in the Night

Is Church (Literally) Good for You?

Infographic: How Do You Read the Bible?

Needed: Weak Pastors

In Christian Theology, Beauty Demands to Be Noticed

Groanings Too Deep for Words

It Pleased God...to Create (Richard C. Barcellos)

Give Your Children All of Your Attention. Some of the Time.

Three Essentials for Christian Parenting

Bored to Life: How to Fight Spiritual Apathy

Don’t Just Wait for Gospel Opportunities

How the Names of God Reveal the Nature of God

10 Things You Should Know about Preaching

What’s So Great about the Sovereignty of God?

Can Your Soul Survive Facebook and Twitter?

Since You Asked: Marking 100 Million Plays for Ask Pastor John

Art as Bridge: How One L.A. Church Serves the City’s Youth

Kids and Technology

Why Children Need a High View of God

Christian Dating: Christlike Character

Music, Memory, and the Heart of a Child

Seven Reasons Pastors Burn Out

R.C. Sproul through the Years: The Holiness of God

The Most Dangerous Place to Live: The Subtle Perils of the Past

Culture

James Gunn Fired as Director of ‘Guardians of the Galaxy 3’ [Updated]

What James Gunn’s Firing Means for Marvel, ‘Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,’ and Hollywood at Large

Meet the People Who Grind Out the Best Movie Trailers in the World

The Three Things No One Ever Tells You About Teleportation

The Rise Of The Sampling Pad In The Modern Drummer’s Setup

The End of the “Real You” Online

‘Ant-Man and the Wasp’ Director Peyton Reed on The Quantum Realm, That San Fran Car Chase, and Mini Paul Rudd [Spoiler Interview]

Infographic Showing the Behemoth Size of Disney’s Media Empire

Watch the Puppeteers of Jim Henson Beloved Sesame Street Explain How They Control Their Puppets

Every Role a Starring Role – Disneyland Resort Project Manager, Digital Guest Experience

‘Insatiable’ Trailer: Debby Ryan Craves Revenge While Wearing a Problematic Fat Suit in New Netflix Series

Pinterest Co-Founder Shares the Simple Step He Took to Transform His Communication Style

Matt Healy Talks With The Guardian

A good ranking of classic Disney animated movie soundtracks

Ask a Grown Woman: Cyndi Lauper

‘Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ Trailer & Villain Voice Cast Revealed [Comic-Con 2018]

What Parents Need to Know About Musical.ly

The Horrors of ‘Eighth Grade’

A Video Essay Guide to the Sam Raimi ‘Spider-Man’ Trilogy

View Your Medical Records From Your Phone With Apple Health

Here's 13 minutes of Aubrey Plaza casually terrorizing celebrity interviewers

[ladystylestores]

NATO Imagines Future Warfare

Innovation is a key component of readiness when it comes to future threats. NATO’s Innovation Hub recently commissioned a short story from author August Cole, asking him to draw upon his writing and imaginative abilities to create a picture of what NATO operations could be like in the year 2040. The Cipher Brief is pleased to be able to bring you 2040: KNOWN ENEMIES, with permission from NATO.

CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES — PARIS, FRANCE

The protestors’ braying air horns reminded Alain Durand of the feel of his father’s hand squeezing his as they watched the Tour de France peloton speed by on a verdant hill outside Chambéry, half a lifetime ago. Tonight on the Champs Elysees it meant drones. It meant gas.

He carefully pushed aside two old fashioned white cloth banners — “PAX MACHINA” and “NON AUX ARMEES, NON A LA GUERRE,” written in thick red brush strokes to better see. In a field of view populated with synthetic representations of the real world, the banners were anachronistic but also enduring. They spoke to the necessary spirit of dissent in one of Europe’s more temperamental democracies, Alain thought. Yet it was time to change again: France was the last NATO member, other than the United States, to maintain conventional combat forces. The other members had already robotized.

“A matter of not just tradition but national survival,” his father, a colonel in France’s 3e Régiment de Parachutistes d’Infanterie de Marine, always insisted.

The horns stopped. The crowd of thousands hushed to better hear the whine of the oncoming Compagnies Républicaines de Sécurité riot-police crowd-control drones, a sound like a frantically played piccolo. It was a child’s sound — that was why it intimidated. The flight of a dozen drones hovered in a picket formation in front of the crowd of more than 10,000 marching along the cobbled stones toward the Arc de Triomphe. On Alain’s augmented reality glasses, the bots were bright orange dots, tagged with comments from around the world guiding him on everything from how to download apps to jam their controllers to offers of legal representation. Alain reached into his satchel and cursed, as an ad for gas mask replacement filters popped into view.

A protestor’s drone, bright yellow and the size of an espresso cup, darted past him, then returned to hover in front of his face. It was filming. He could see the live feed it broadcast on his own glasses, identifying him as the son of a senior army officer. He looked around, feeling a need to disappear in the crowd even though that was impossible. He swatted at the yellow drone, and it darted off.

Was that a Catalyst design?, he wondered. The mysterious informal global network emerged on the public stage about three years ago, fomenting dissent and countergovernment action in the virtual realm. It started with what was essentially algo-busting or AI-enabled augmented-reality pranks to make a point about excessive Chinese and American influence around the world. But in the last six months, something had changed, and they were now moving from the online to the real world, supplying not only plans for printable grenades or swarm drones but also the fabs to make them. They had never tried to operate in Europe before, or the U.S. Was this drone a sign something was changing, literally before his own eyes?

Those same eyes began to itch. He had other things to worry about for the moment.

“Juliet, I don’t have my mask,” he said to his sister. She already had hers, a translucent model with a bubble-like faceplate that made her look like a snorkeler.

“And?” she said.

“I am certain I put it in there, but …” he trailed off.

She sighed angrily, condensation briefly fogging her mask. Four years younger, his 15-year-old sister could judge him harshly. She got that from their father.

“We stay,” she said, passing him a bandana and bottle of water. “Parliament votes tomorrow. Father is already deployed. If we leave now, when will we ever stand?”

“Ok, ok,” Alain muttered. He wet the bandana and braced himself for the gas.

Drones dashed just a few feet overhead, a disorienting swirl of straining electric motors and the machines’ childlike tone. The crowd sighed all at once and then individual shouting erupted around him. A moment later his eyes began to sting. Fumbling with the bandana he quickly wrapped the wet cloth around his mouth. But, eyes now burning, he struggled to tie it around his neck. With so much gas in the air, no one without a mask would be able any more to continue watching the eruption of digital dissent. He felt Juliet’s fingers on his neck, helping secure the bandana’s knot. Hands now free, he angrily pumped his fists in the air and blindly grasped to help hold his cloth banners aloft.

JULIUS NYERERE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT — DAR-ES-SALAAM, TANZANIA

It was so hot, when the convoy stopped at the main gate to the joint United Nations-African Union compound, that the German and Italian battle bots broke formation. The NATO task force’s hundreds of small armored wheeled and tracked machines jerked and shimmied like ants as they fought over the shade beneath the bright blue revetments — towering stacks of shipping containers reinforced with blast-foam. That left the French para forces, what NATO classified as a light-effects company due to its mostly non-robotic composition under, in the crushing heat with nowhere to go. That was fine for the French unit’s commander, Luc Durand. His men and women could handle the heat; the bots were another story.

Captain Monika Toonce hopped off one of the oversized German Jaeger crawlers and jogged over to Durand’s open scout car. The French convoy included the jeep, six-wheeled troop carriers (each carrying 12 paratroopers as well as external racks of offensive and defensive smallbots), and four mules loaded with ammunition, spare parts, and assorted spider-like fixers.

“Colonel, we are still waiting for the clear codes before the task force can enter the compound,” Toonce said. She paused to wipe sweat from her nose. “Headquarters said they sent them. But they are not yet authenticated here …”

Durand cursed. The bots would not yet be cleared for self-defense, let alone offensive use. He forced himself to ease back and put his boot up on his jeep’s wheel well, a pose he could hold for hours on a high-speed cross-desert dash or pulling security at a vital intersection. This is an old problem in a new form, he thought. This is why the French army trains to fight with or without machines. “La victoire ne se donne pas!” was the motto adopted four years ago.

Deconflicting the newly arrived German and Italian anti-armor/aircraft and counter-personnel bots with the existing UN-AU peacekeeping forces — so that they didn’t automatically attack one another — was just another form of confusion and complexity. For all the advantage the machines offered, they also brought the onset of the fog of war forward that much earlier in a conflict. Ignoring Toonce, Durand drew with his finger on the dusty screen he wore at his waist, a series of arrows to sketch out a concept. He snapped a picture of the tracings with his glasses; it was something he would write up when he got back from deployment. You never know where inspiration will come from.

“Ok, you want to ride with us then? We are heading in. The machines can handle themselves, no?” Durand said.

Toonce looked torn between waiting with the disabled bots or accompanying Durand. Her responsibility for the German armored forces was a significant one, given the expense and competition for deployment-likely slots in the Bundeswehr. There were fewer soldiers in the German army today than there were postal carriers in Bavaria. Why they kept so many of the latter and so few of the former us was not something Toonce allowed herself to weigh too deeply. She loved the army, loved her comrades and their machines.

Toonce nodded. The maintenance techs were still on the way. She was the sole German representative, and she told herself she needed to be present when the NATO task force leaders finally presented themselves.

The two soldiers were in a narrow pause, a lull — in what had been fevered fighting — that the NATO task force had taken advantage of to deploy by air from a staging area outside Nairobi.

“Good choice,” Durand said. Toonce hopped on. Durand smiled at the master sergeant in the seat next to him, who tapped the jeep’s dash twice with the sort of gentle encouragement one might give a beloved horse. The vehicle advanced on its own at the gentle command.

They proceeded inside the compound under the watching guns of a pair of stork-legged Nigerian sentry turrets, each armed with a trio of four-barreled Gatling guns mounted on the mottled-grey fuselage pod.

Serge Martelle, the para master sergeant, handed Durand a palm-sized screen, a phone that used the local civilian networks.

“Seen this, sir?” Martelle asked.

A sigh. An image appeared of Alain’s face, jaw clenched and wide eyed, in the midst of a Paris protest. Again.

“No, not now, Martelle,” Durand said. A nod and he withdrew the screen. But Durand pulled up footage on his glasses, already tagged to his own and his son’s social media accounts. The final image was a bleary-eyed and red-faced Alain holding aloft the “PAX MACHINA.” It is Bastille Day after all, isn’t it. Durand smiled as they pulled up to a Kenyan general and his staff, standing at attention.

AU-UN HEADQUARTERS — DAR-ES-SALAAM, TANZANIA

“It’s not a mystery, as such, but we are not yet certain who is supplying the rogue Tanzanian army elements, as well as other local elements. But we can ascertain that they are currently involved in a rapid-equipping cycle using established and improvised fabrication sites that …”

“It’s Catalyst,” Durand barked. “Just call it out!” It was too easy to be rude to the UN Peacekeeping Office AIs; they were atrocious. Indecisive. Burdened with a politeness programmed to appease too many sensibilities. And that accent, unattached to any country’s native tongue, is an affront, he thought.

“Colonel Durand, analysis indicates a probability of certainty of—” the machine responded, now using a careful ethereal cadence to mollify Durand.

“General Kimani, with respect, how might we begin to engage an adversary that we refuse to identify?” Durand pressed the point. If the AU UN force acknowledged an “outbreak” of Catalyst coercive technologies, it would require an escalation of military presence that neither organization wanted to endorse at this point in the crisis.

“The last twenty-seven hours have seen no fighting,” Kimani responded. “We are hoping to use this window for dialogue.” He was the senior officer of the AUMIT, or African Union Mission in Tanzania. His charge included the military aspects of the peacekeeping mission, as well as coordinating with UN and quasi-governmental conflict-resolution groups trying to cool the conflict. “Right now, we’re running a Blue Zone dialogue with the dissident Tanzanian army, UN negotiators, Front Civil, and others. An invitation was extended to Catalyst, but no response.”

Durand nodded. Why would this highly disruptive and increasingly dangerous movement join in? It had no leaders. No clear strategy. He viewed French military intelligence’s take as sound: Catalyst sought to undermine US or Chinese economic, political, and military blocs of strategic influence to enable sub-national movements of self-determination.

The Blue Zones were private virtual environments managed by UN AIs to facilitate non-confrontational negotiations with machine-speed modelling and data. Some even talked of the platform’s AIs themselves being nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. If Kimani really believed the UN could speed that diplomatic cycle up before the rearming of the Tanzanian coup forces then there was a chance this could resolve without further violence. Durand knew him by reputation and instinctively trusted him. Then he ground his teeth. He was being too optimistic. But what were the odds some Catalyst algos weren’t already spoofing that whole thing? It happened before, in Venezuela, in ’38. They never joined these kinds of hand-holding sims.

His watch buzzed. Toonce reported the clearance codes were finally being transmitted and would be uploaded shortly. Having the NATO mech forces inside the base would make him feel better as they could be re-checked, zeroed, and synched with the UN and AU bots already in the area of operations. NATO-reinforced UN and AU patrols could begin the next morning, he hoped. Leave the conciliation and negotiation to the UN. He had his mission.

On his glasses, Durand cued up his task force’s status reports, and began watching the downloading of the clearance codes. Details mattered, even more so with machines. As a leader you had to stay on top of it. He focused on the data and half-listened as Kimani spoke for another minute. A Rwandan officer began discussing the Belgian food fab facility near the port about to be brought online.

Blasting horns brought conversation to an abrupt stop. Half of the attendees around the table jolted upright, standing and holding the conference table with white-knuckled grips as if bracing for a bodily impact. Durand remained seated and sighed. He locked eyes with Kimani, who shook his head. An attack with a warning was one you would survive, they both knew. It’s the strikes that come without any heads up that get you.

His glasses blinked, a scratching and pixelated green snow, then returned to showing the download progress of the clear codes. Stuck at seventy-six percent. Martelle was already on his notepad, ensuring the French paras inside the compound were ready for what came next. Of course they would be, he knew. That also gave him calm.

The door burst open and Toonce paused to catch her breath. She wiped dust from her mouth and began to speak.

“The clear codes were hijacked,” she said. “Catalyst payload rode the packets, but it’s not a Tanzanian Army attack. They got partially hit, too — at least their Chinese systems, from what I can tell already. One of the local groups it looks like, based on analytics. Took the task force bots and mechs down. Same with the AU and UN already deployed here. They’re trying to bring the whole country to a stop, they say, to start real negotiations.”

“How did they attack, exactly?”“They used the clear codes to target our bots’ firmware, forcing a factory reset that requires hard keys that only exist back with the civilians at the defense ministries. We, as the deployed German army, don’t even hold those. Same with the Italians. As for the Tanzanian army systems they got from the PLA, I don’t know anything for sure, but seem to be down, too.”

That might seem fortuitous, but Durand immediately looked at it another way: If Catalyst elements could wipe out the Tanzanian army’s reliance on Chinese platforms, that would be a blank slate for a new dependence on easily downloadable and fabbable Catalyst systems. Tanzania would probably acquire the Doktor anti-armor system, a simple self-firing short-barreled launcher that could be concealed in a backpack or mounted with suction-grips to a driverless vehicle, and maybe Viper launchers, a short-range 64-shot swarm weapon about the size of a concrete block that could be held and aimed by two handles or prepositioned to strike on its own.

Nearby explosions — one, two, three — rocked the room and knocked out the lights. Sounds like mortars. In the darkness, as Durand began to taste dust in the air, he conferred with Martelle about what to do next. His paras might be the only truly friendly combat-capable force in the area right now.

CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES — PARIS, FRANCE

Wringing out the handkerchief for a third time into the café’s brown-stained sink, Alain finally had the courage to look into the cracked mirror. Black splotches beneath the edges of the glass stained the edges of the reflective surface, framing a specter’s raw, red eyes peering back from an inky cloud.

“Oof,” he sighed. The neck of his black shirt was torn, by whom he could not remember. Claw-like scratches ran along his neck from his left ear down to his opposite clavicle. The blond girl who was shot in the legs? Or was it the CRS trooper who hit him with the mace?

A gentle knock on the door. “Everything Ok?”

That was his sister.

“A moment,” he said. He wiped his face with a coarse paper towel one more time, then put his augmented reality glasses back on. He tinted the lenses light blue. “I’m coming.”

Back out into the café, he rejoined his sister. A coffee waited, and he carefully touched its side with shaking fingers. Still warm. He closed his eyes and sipped the bitter espresso, grateful for the company of his sister and the tranquility of the café. Police drones raced by every few minutes, but no police were going to stop in here. They had other concerns right now responding to the attacks on the Champs-Élysées.

AU-UN HEADQUARTERS — DAR-ES-SALAAM, TANZANIA

Through thick black smoke, one of the tall two-legged defense turrets spun its gun mounts in lazy circles like a pinwheel. It did not fire as a swarm of bird-sized winged drones flew past in a corkscrew formation toward a far corner of the compound used for medevac flights. A series of blue strobe-like flashes followed by a sound like tearing paper meant that part of the camp would no longer be usable, Durand knew.

“Whose drones?” he asked aloud, looking around for Martelle.

“TA,” Martelle shouted, meaning “Tanzanian Army.” Normally, Martelle could look up with his glasses and get a read-out of the environment, seeing detailed information on everything from bandwidth to physical objects just as if he were going shopping. But since he had been on the base network during the attack, he saw nothing except fingerprint smudges and dust.

Yet after emerging from the bunker, the French officer knew where to find his soldiers. He sprinted at a low crouch toward a dispersed arrangement of vehicles set up in defensive positions. He greeted a soldier crouched near the rear flank of an AMX-3 armored vehicle. The paratrooper had set up a camoflage brown pop-up ballistic shield and was aiming a 10-year-old portable defense weapon skyward. These double-barreled shoulder-fired kinetic and microwave weapons were not connected to the base network or even the vehicles they were carried on, and so were still able to autonomously shoot down incoming shells and drones.

“Getting started a bit earlier than we wanted,” Durand said.

“Always ready, no?” said the soldier, whose chest armor name-plate read Orbach.

Durand held up the tablet he wore at his waist, and tapped it against the soldier’s forearm-mounted screen. Between the hastily broken up meeting and this physical connection, the mission-management AIs hosted on Durand’s tablet had created a plan of action based on years of training and real-world operations led by the colonel.

“There you go, Orbach. You have everything you need? Maybe I can fire up a fab for a nice coffee for you?”

Orbach smiled and nodded.

“Now get ready,” Durand said. “Let’s get out of this mess here and go start some trouble.”

Orders given, the information would spread rapidly from soldier to soldier, vehicle to vehicle, by direct or indirect laser transmission. Reliable, tightband, and perfect for a situation like this. Somebody might intercept it, but that was true with everything, wasn’t it?

At once, half the French paras moved to their vehicles, as the other half began climbing the shipping containers. Thanks to the task force’s own orbital sensors, unaffected by the attack so far, Durand had targets. Conventional doctrine emphasized machine vs. machine engagements, but he was going to be doing something far riskier. And more important: targeting the individuals who were the contacts, or nodes, for the Catalyst technologies. There was no time to waste staying inside the protection the base afforded. The Catalyst systems were learning and improving, from the first wave of attacks. Iterative warfare required ferocious speed and more initiative than most leaders were comfortable with.

A text message from Toonce appeared on Durand’s glasses. The UN base’s network was back up. Wait. Based on the auburn-colored text and the blue triangle icon, this was a message being sent via an encrypted consumer messaging app.

“I’m printing new logic cores for the defensive bots first, then the offensive systems. We have 213,” Toonce said.

“Of course,” Durand responded, a subvocal command converted to text. “How long?”

“Six hours.”

“And if you alternate printing, say, one defensive then one offensive, so there is … balance in our capability? I will not wait for the AU forces to regenerate. There is a window here we have to take before another round of upgrades by Tanzanian Army forces, or whoever else is equipping with Catalyst systems. We are moving out now.”

He closed out the conversation. Six hours would become 12, which would become a day delaying until the machines were ready. Durand’s paras were primed to fight now. La Victoire ne se donne pas.

Inside and atop the trucks and jeeps, the soldiers began cueing up virtual representations of their targets. The drivers took manual control, the safest option at a time like this. Less than a minute later, Durand and Martell were back in the scout car, with the commander buckling on his armor. The convoy rolled forward at a walking pace toward the base’s main gate. Some of the paras cast wary glances at the glitching Nigerian defense bots, which swayed back and forth atop their stork-like legs. Other soldiers looked for the two para sniper teams protectively watching from atop the shipping containers. As the vehicles advanced, the snipers flew a quartet of Aigle reconnaissance drones to scout routes established by Durand’s AIs.

The French soldiers were not the only ones rushing to action. Holding a water bottle in his lap, Martelle watched a squad of Kenyan infantry worked carefully to clear the medevac flight pad, guiding a pair of eight-legged explosive ordnance disposal bots as they cleared the area of micro-munitions left behind by the Catalyst swarm. The “confetti mines” were the size of an old postage stamp, paper-like explosives that detonated when their millimeters-thin bodies were bent or cracked. Coiled tight around titanium spools stored inside the bird-like drones, the mines fluttered to the ground by the hundreds, arming as they fell. One mine alone might not be enough to injure a person or even a machine. But if one detonated, it triggered other nearby mines.

“Martelle, hey,” Durand said.

“Sir,” Martelle responded, nodding. He took a drink of water.

“They have their job. We have ours.”

“Always ready. Onward,” Martelle said.

A tap on the pad at his waist and Durand urged the column forward. The base’s thick-plasticrete barrier-gates at its main entrance swung outward like arms extending for an embrace. Durand held his breath as his jeep was the first through, out into the open area beyond the base. With a feeling of regret, he passed intricate human-sized pyramids of dust-covered German and Italian bots, looking like cairns on a forgotten desert trail. It was as if in their final moments they sought to join together out of fear. He did not need those machines to complete this mission, but he would be lying to himself if he did not admit that they could make a life-or-death difference for his soldiers.

“Faster now,” said Durand. “We have our objectives, now we—”

His glasses vibrated painfully.

“MISSION ABORT,” read the message, a bright red scrawl of flashing characters.

This was no time to stop. He swiped it aside, and motioned for Martelle to keep driving.

Then General Kimani broke through with a direct audio feed.

“Colonel, you need to return to base. Mission abort. Confirm?”

There was no way to lock the officer out. Unlike with a fully autonomous formation, there was no “kill switch” for Durand’s troops. He led them, fully.

“We are en route to the objectives, general. You can see our target set; it has been approved by the task force command.”

The jeep slewed to the right, around a broken-down Tanzanian Army T-99X tank, a self-driving Chinese model that was exported throughout Africa, complete with stock PLA green-and-brown digital camo.

“No longer. PKO and AU leadership just made the call. They do not want your troops hunting down individuals in the city. Their models say it will just worsen the situation for civilians, everybody.”

Worsen? Durand thought. Isn’t it already bad enough?

“So,” said Durand. “That’s it?”

“I am going to propose another target set. Only bots, fabs, and cyber targets. No humans. We can deploy the task forces systems in six hours, I understand. Your paras can be on standby.”

Machines targeting machines, said Durand. That’s all they want any more.

He braced his leg and leaned back in his seat as his vehicle accelerated onto a deserted artery flanked by half a kilometer of torched and roofless four-story buildings. He looked back over his shoulder at the trailing convoy. His troops were there, following.

August Cole is co-author of Burn-In: A Novel of the Real Robotic Revolution

Read also How NATO is Innovating Toward the Future only in The Cipher Brief

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief.

      Source link

قالب وردپرس

from World Wide News https://ift.tt/2T8NbG8

[whittlebaggett8]

The first official ‘Avengers: Endgame’ toys are in stores — here are the ones kids will want, Defence Online

caption

Some of the a lot of “Avengers: Endgame” toys in outlets now.

source

Hasbro / composite by Kirsten Acuna

The initial “Avengers: Endgame” toys are in shops Sunday, March 31.

INSIDER satisfied with Hasbro to preview its initial wave of toys mid-March.

Among the ones little ones will want are Captain The us and Ronin from the Legends’ collection line of action figures and a 14-inch Captain America determine which makes seems and phrases and can toss his renowned protect.

Hasbro unveiled the initial wave of “Avengers: Endgame” toys Sunday. Around 40 new wearables, action figures, and even a Thor’s Stormbreaker can be located in suppliers.

INSIDER achieved with Hasbro mid-March to preview the lineup forward of time. The meeting was so top secret that the fourth flooring home windows of a Manhattan large-rise have been taped up with paper to protect against any one from sneaking a peek within. Director of world-wide model tactic and marketing for Hasbro’s Marvel line, Michael Pullano, took INSIDER by way of the line, which they’ve been doing work on considering that last calendar year.

“[It’s] a great partnership with Marvel and Disney to bring these toys to daily life,” explained Pullano. “It’s been astounding. It is really distinctive and actually awesome to see every little thing you’ve been performing on for in excess of a year start out to come to be reality.”

“Endgame” is predicted to be a person of the greatest videos at the box business office this 12 months, which usually means families are going to be on the hunt for toys. Every single merchandise we noticed from Hasbro ranged from $10-$30.

“Our target is to convey a good deal of lower-selling price-position function play to the current market to actually be ready to convey all the figures to everyday living,” mentioned Pullano. “More little ones, extra family members, accessible, and just genuinely enjoyment to engage in with. What we have tried out to do is actually go again to fundamental principles with a lot of toys and locate out what’s definitely enjoyment.”

From a Captain America motion figure which talks and can toss a protect to plenty of Hawkeye action figures in his new ninja gear, listed here are the coolest “Endgame” toys we observed.

If you’re looking for extra in depth versions of characters from “Avengers: Endgame,” Hasbro’s to start with wave of figures in its Legends sequence features Captain The united states and Hawkeye — right here as Ronin.

caption

There will be a few waves of “Endgame” figures. Legends is Hasbro’s priciest line of motion figures.

source

Courtesy of Hasbro

“These two are the precise film figures from ‘Endgame,’ so you see Ronin – Hawkeye – in this article in his brilliant ninja outfit and Captain The us and his staff fit,” Pullano told INSIDER.

You are going to will need all seven new figures, such as Citizen V, “Infinity War’s” Ebony Maw, and Hercules, to build your own Thanos. If you are a little bit bummed out there aren’t a lot more “Endgame” figures, just wait around out a bit more time.

Pullano explained to us much more “Endgame” figures will appear out in two waves later on this calendar year.

Suggested ages: 4+ Rate: $19.99

Customizable “Avengers: Endgame” Nerf Assembler Equipment will let children blend and match blasters from Captain The usa, Black Panther, Ronin, Captain Marvel, and much more to make a blaster exceptional to them.

caption

Captain America’s foldable defend is a beloved of ours.

resource

Courtesy Hasbro

Hasbro integrates its Nerf blasters with “Avengers: Endgame” figures in this article. As opposed to normal Nerf blasters, you can disassemble and reassemble blasters to personalize them with components from distinct toys in the same line. So if you genuinely want to mix Captain America’s protect with Black Panther’s claw, no a person is halting you.

“It definitely puts the electrical power in the kids’ fingers to imagine and make what they want to make,” said Pullano. “We do not instruct the children to create a sure way.”

Advisable ages: 5+ Price: $19.99

You will be in a position to get a greater part of the “Avengers: Endgame” figures in somewhat smaller sized six-inch figures.

caption

Here are a couple of of the people you will see in stores.

resource

Hasbro

Figures that will be offered contain Captain The us, Spider-Person in his Iron Spider match, Black Panther, Ant-Gentleman, the villainous Chitari, Captain Marvel, Ronin, Iron Gentleman, and War Device.

Proposed ages: 4+ Price tag: $9.99

Thanos and Hulk are a little bit much more expensive simply because they occur with their individual weapons.

caption

Thanos will come with a sword.

source

Hasbro

Thanos is in his total battle armor. Hulk’s weaon doesn’t glance like something to us other than something he pulled up out of the floor.

Recommended ages: 4+ Selling price: $12.99

If you want Rocket Raccoon, you will be able to get him with his buddy Thor in a two-pack.

caption

The rabbit and Thor are back with each other.

resource

Courtesy of Hasbro

We also believed it was very great that both of those Captain Marvel and Captain The united states will be out there in a two pack.

Suggested ages: 4+ Price tag: $19.99

Ignore Thor’s hammer, you can get your very own mini Stormbreaker just like the one Chris Hemsworth’s character makes use of in “Infinity War.”

caption

Do not forget about to aim for the head when going after Thanos.

source

Courtesy of Hasbro

The toy by itself isn’t new. It’s just in new “Endgame” packaging below. Regardless, I expect it to be 1 that young ones will want just after viewing the sequel because it is teased in the trailers. When you press the little inexperienced leaf, which was after Groot’s arm, you’ll get different lightning sound effects.

Proposed ages: 5+ Price: $19.99

14-inch Iron Man and Captain The us action figures have been the coolest types we saw and experimented with out.

caption

These are the two priciest items of the selection, but kids should really undoubtedly get their money’s worth. Pullano said immediately after talking with their world wide purchaser insights team, Hasbro has uncovered little ones want larger scale items with a straightforward aspect they can easily activate.

supply

Courtesy Hasbro

Pullano claimed some of the feedback they’ve read is that some of the line is also highly-priced so they’ve experimented with to choose that in brain with its line of “Endgame” toys this year.

“We’ve consciously designed the effort to try to convey our price factors down to aim on one amazing matter that we know kids are likely to enjoy,” stated Pullano.

The concentration on these two toys is the electronics. The two feature over 15 seem outcomes and phrases. Regretably, it’s not the actors you will listen to in “Endgame” furnishing their voices to the toys. Instead, it’s a likeness. The “wow” factor with these two toys is the ability to pull again either motion figure’s arm and observe Captain The united states frisbee toss his protect on his personal and Iron Guy blast projectors out of his hand. It’s definitely very simple to established up and start and kids will likely devote a while perfecting their aim.

Advisable ages: 4+ Rate: $29.99

The post The first official ‘Avengers: Endgame’ toys are in stores — here are the ones kids will want, Defence Online appeared first on Defence Online.

from WordPress https://defenceonline.com/2019/03/31/the-first-official-avengers-endgame-toys-are-in-stores-here-are-the-ones-kids-will-want-defence-online/

[itsworn]

After Five Decades, This 1968 GTO Remains In Original Showroom Condition

History Takes Off With This Two-Owner Original Muscle Car

George Zanebis was the first owner of this immaculate, 26,826-mile 1968 GTO four-speed coupe. His mint 1960 Thunderbird had been banged up in L.A. traffic, so he had the urge to replace it with a modern muscle car.

A mechanic for American Airlines at the time, George was in a coffee shop at LAX Airport having lunch with some of his cohorts, sitting at the bottom of a U-shaped counter. Seated to his left was movie legend Rock Hudson, along with a bevy of stewardesses providing first-class attention.

To his right were two men wearing business suits and ties. George began complaining to his buddies about the performance of a 390 Torino he recently test-drove. “It just didn’t seem that fast” he said. One of those two executive-types was Jack Anderson from Royal Pontiac, right there in Hollywood (no connection to the Pontiac dealership by the same name in Royal Oak, Michigan). The other guy was the Pontiac division VP, on his way back to Detroit. George remembers him as “John somebody.” The VP instructed Anderson to “give his business card to that young man and make sure he test-drives, then buys himself a new GTO.”

George special-ordered this Flambeau Burgundy model with a Black Cordova top the day after his test-drive at Hollywood’s Royal Pontiac on January 17, 1968. His new GTO arrived at the dealership on February 27, and wore more than $1,200 worth of options, including power windows, steering, and brakes with discs up front. Its upscale, supercar flavor gave it all the performance characteristics of today’s modern equivalents, such as a Hemi Challenger or Camaro SS. All it needs is a set of modern wheels and tires to prove it. No wonder restomods are so enticing.

Since this car’s timeless design remains, you have to wonder what would happen if GM built this very same 1968 model GTO all over again, with new mechanicals and safety features. What market segment doesn’t love the idea of a powerful, front-engine, rear-wheel drive, two-door coupe? It would be like buying a perfect restomod straight from the factory.

This was the first year of a distinct styling upgrade that put the GTO body on the fast track to the next decade. This GTO is the High-Output—or H.O—version, which was the first engine option on the order form that deviated from the standard package. It bought a 10.75:1 compression, 360 hp at 5,100 rpm, and a torque rating of 445 lb-ft at 3,500 rpm. The close-ratio four-speed works with 3.55:1 rear gearing to make this particular GTO more of a mid- and upper-range ruffian than a stoplight bandit.

Not only did the 1968 Pontiac represent a new, smoother exterior style, but it also incorporated the fantastic­–looking and performing Enduro front bumper/nose piece designed to resist significant damage from low-speed contact with other cars and objects. It would establish a trend for the auto industry still in use today by virtually all car makers worldwide. At the same time, this new bumper design took a big bite out of the crowbar’s reputation as a tough guy, thanks to Pontiac’s national ad campaign promoting its new bumper technology.

One commercial showed movie star and Pontiac spokesperson Paul Richards wearing a white dinner jacket, black bow tie, and white gloves, packing an industrial-grade crowbar. He began the sales pitch, then took seven major-league swings with said crowbar against the front of that GTO. Three swings to the passenger-side leading edge of that bumper, two shots to the center nose piece, then two more to the driver-side leading edge—all to no avail. You could even hear him slightly out of breath when he finished swinging and resumed the verbal portion of his presentation. To punctuate, he tossed the crowbar down on the concrete floor so all could hear the conspicuous ringing of real steel.

This GTO’s physical dimensions set the standard for cars of this type—and would last for decades. This 1968 Pontiac GTO has the same wheelbase as that of a 2015 Camaro, with a width 1-inch narrower than a new Dodge Challenger. In addition, the GTO’s height is almost 3 inches lower than a new Shelby Mustang, and it weighs less than any of those modern torch-bearers.

The wheelbase on the 1968 Tempest/GTO series was cut down by 3 inches compared with that of the previous year, while the overall length was shortened in the process by approximately 6 inches. These reduced dimensions—and the all-new styling-—kick-started the brand, resulting in the second best-ever GTO sales figure for a single year. It was also awarded Motor Trend’s coveted Car of the Year honor.

Just because this car has been babied its entire life doesn’t mean it hasn’t felt the old performance whip from time to time. One evening, George took his friend, who had moved to the States from Greece, out cruising. It would have a dimension-changing impact on the visitor’s concept of the physical world, at least as it relates to time and distance–American-style, that is. After all, our overseas visitor drove a four-cylinder Fiat back home, so he had no reference point for the sudden physical violence that was about to occur.

The experience took place in 1972 at the intersection of La Cienega Blvd. and Slauson Ave. in the heart of Los Angeles. At the time, it was wide-open pavement and nothing but surrounding oil fields. George, his pal, and the GTO were minding their own business at the stoplight when a 1969 Dodge 440 Super Bee pulled up next to them. We all know very well what that meant.

The hand-painted red letters “RP” displayed on several places of the car indicate that this GTO was bound for Royal Pontiac in North Hollywood, California.

At the “green” both cars launched explosively with climbing revs and burning rubber. The Mopar grabbed the lead at the punch, yet the Pontiac would eventually drive by the Dodge, even though it had to go into triple-digit speeds to do so. George said he backed off at 110 mph. His friend was in a state of shock. He reacted like someone who had just survived a train wreck and was so overcome by it all that he refused to speak to his lifelong friend for two days, even though they rode to and from work together every single day.

Then there was that Sunday-morning episode on the Santa Monica Freeway when a red Ferrari 308 GTR pulled up to next to George, and just stayed even with him for a several minutes. Soon, Mr. Ferrari bumped the speed up to 65 mph, so George matched it. Not long after that, the ante was raised to 75, so the GTO motored up next to the Ferrari again, then stayed there. Eventually, they eased up to about 105 mph, and then cruised side-by-side for several miles, neither one attempting to pull away from the other. A small-displacement, high-revving Italian V8 and a large American V8 torque monster must have produced an extraordinary exhaust duo—a beautiful riff at every rev. All too soon, George’s exit came up so he gestured so-long, and parted company while delighting in an experience only gearheads would understand.

George never intended this car to be a daily driver, which is why every house he lived in had a garage or basement accessible via the driveway—so his GTO could spend much of its time out of the elements.

Note the car is wearing Rally 1 wheels from the factory, not the newer Rally 2 series, which George specified during the special-order process.

His most nerve-racking experience with this car was one day back in the 1970s, when George was forced to drive it in the rain for ten long, agonizing minutes. That may have been the only time in this car’s history when it was exposed to such a cruel act of nature. It was this attitude George had that kept the unrestored GTO in virtual showroom condition for five decades.

As time went by—with the GTO sitting undisturbed and covered by two king-size bed quilts in his clean, dry basement—George began to consider the previously unimaginable: passing the car along to another enthusiast. But he wasn’t about to sell it to just anyone.

Now, Tim Baker knew about George’s car for years, and the two had met early on, but at the time George was just not ready to part ways with his beloved GTO. Eventually, Tim got the call and was invited back to purchase this rare machine. George liked the idea that his car would have the right kind of company around it, as Tim was a Pontiac guy himself and already had a couple of them in the family.

Tim got the Tin Indian bug from his dad, who had a 1955 model he can remember riding in. By age 16, Tim had his first Pontiac, a 1966 LeMans convertible four-speed. Next came a 1968 Firebird. At the moment, he also owns a 1966 GTO Tri-power four-speed convertible and a 1971 Trans Am 455 H.O. four-speed. These Pontiacs already socialize with a brand-new Mustang Shelby GT350 and bad-to-the-bone 1961 Impala bubbletop with a turbocharged LS series small-block, a six-speed and four-wheel disc brakes.

When Tim purchased the GTO from George in June 2016, the odometer registered less than 27,000 miles, and it was rolling on its original Rally wheels and tires. Everything still works on this high-option car, including its H.O. engine. Tim says it barely feels broken-in when he drives it around the neighborhood.

The spare tire has never been on the ground because it has never been disconnected from its mounting bracket.

The paper trail for this car couldn’t be more complete. The original owner kept everything imaginable that pertains to it, including the actual window sticker, purchase order, receipts for the deposit and down payment, loan payment book, all the manuals and warranty documents, and the Protect-o-Plate. A 10-day temporary California tag and black plates issued in March 1968 as well as a carb-related recall notice complete the trail of authenticity.

Only the tires have been replaced so the car can be driven safely. Naturally, those originals are still with the car and are leaning up against the wall. Recently, George gave Tim a box containing the car’s original drivebelts and filters that he saved for decades after they were replaced during one of the car’s early service intervals.

Tim plans to keep the GTO indefinitely since it fits so perfectly into his lifestyle. Naturally, it will be driven from time to time, but here’s the thing: A beautiful, trend-setting, classic GTO muscle car doesn’t require hours of drive time to appreciate what it can do. In fact, just a brisk lap around the block can instantly generate memories that will remain vivid forever. Not even a crowbar can pry those loose.

The 1968 GTO was restyled and trimmed down to a sleeker, more manageable size. The phrase “coke-bottle design” is often used to describe this new model, although the words smooth, clean, and aerodynamic do the car’s shape more justice. A shorter wheelbase and less overall length brought this car’s platform more in line with its new, more efficient look.

Retractable headlights, in combination with the ground-breaking, crowbar-embarrassing Enduro frontend drives this car straight to the top of the technology chart. Except for the tires, everything else you see is original and correct as it came from the factory. The rolling-stock change was purely a safety precaution.

Inside, this GTO looks as good as it did the day it rolled off the assembly in the early weeks of 1968. The tan/parchment interior surfaces contrast royally to the burgundy exterior paint, and all accessories operate as new. No noticeable wear marks or blemishes of any kind can be seen, not even on the carpets.

Pontiac dashes and gauge layouts always looked sporty and special compared with almost any other car. Consider the dash pod in the second-gen Trans Am. The one in this hot rod dares to incorporate a wood veneer for that European sports-car look. Three large dials hold all the data drivers from this era needed.

Notice the discoloration on the stone wall in the background after only a few years. Now, notice the lack of discoloration on the GTO after almost five decades. George took great care in covering and storing it to maintain its pristine state.

Take a good look all you GTO purists out there: If you are striving to restore your own 1968 GTO, this is exactly what the finished product should look like. Except for those new drivebelts and filters, everything you see is the way it looked when it left the factory.

The post After Five Decades, This 1968 GTO Remains In Original Showroom Condition appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network http://www.hotrod.com/articles/five-decades-1968-gto-remains-original-showroom-condition/ via IFTTT