#weapon refinery

[duplicitousfate]

Hear me out: Lamb but two 👀

Literally everyone knows about there being two lambs. The Bishops, the cultists, the crowns. Everyone EXCEPT Narinder

It made... quite a first impression when he was later revived after bringing the bishops into the cult

Now the whole cult's placing bets on how long it'll take for him to figure out which of the lambs killed him and which lamb he kinda, maybe, likes hates with a passion.

(Art by @gatoma )

No one looks at tumblr blogs anymore so under the cut is more in depth refs about the bishops and such! WARNING: LONG.

LAMBERT: Masc They/Them. The main caretaker of the followers. The few times they go on crusades, they prefer the blunderbuss and the golden fleece combo. Did, in fact, one-shot Leshy’s fight with this min-max strategy.

They are gentle and treat the followers more like their kids than their followers for the most part. They are the one that loves Narinder, but for the sake of the bit, they keep it subtle.

LAMBARI: Femme They/Them. The main crusader. They can work with generally any weapon, but will refuse and in fact rage-quit if they get the gauntlets or the dagger, preferring to strike heavy. They were the one that made the original deal with The One Who Waits, and was more than happy to slay the bishops.

They are more stern, preferring to take a more tough-love approach that will tell you immediately if they don’t like something. They eventually get with Shamura, and have the goal of restoring their mind.

NARINDER had absolutely NO idea there were two lambs until he was brought back to life, after his siblings were brought into the herd. The twins did what any pair of identical twins would do: Fuck with him.

Now, he not only has to figure out which one was the lamb that struck him down, but also which one he began to harbor feelings for. The entire cult is now taking bets.

His role in the cult is undefined, as he is far more occupied in figuring out his conundrum.

SHAMURA was the first Bishop of the Old Faith, and the first to be betrayed by Narinder. They were the last Bishop to be struck down by the lambs, and the last to be brought back. The God of War and Knowledge, the most savage and yet the most diplomatic, attempting to warn the Lambs of their imminent betrayal and the quickest to listen and convert when they bested their brother.

They have the most vague position in the cult, often focusing on the personal care of Lambari after their long, grueling crusades. They are often seen at the refinery otherwise, when there’s nothing else to keep their many hands busy.

KALLAMAR was the second Bishop of the Old Faith, the second to be betrayed. Third to be struck down, third to be brought back. The God of Pestilence and Vitality may be a coward, but he is an impeccable fighter, providing the most trouble thanks to how devoted his followers are to him.

While his official role is that of a healer and the main refiner, he will be seen in various roles to help any number of his multiple boyfriends. He is also often the one sent out on missionary work as the most charismatic of the siblings.

HEKET was the fourth Bishop of the Old Faith, and the third to be betrayed. The second to be cut down and brought back, and the first to make moves when the group acts as a unit. The God of Famine and Fertility took over when Shamura’s injury proved too debilitating, acting as the big sister despite being the second youngest. She is strong, stern, and acts in the best interest of the siblings, which the Lambs respect despite the implications of her involvement with the extinction of the sheep.

She is the strong silent type, overseeing the farming and cooking. She keeps to herself, when she isn’t busy making everyone swoon, intentionally or otherwise. Many men’s hearts have been broken when she made her preference for women clear. Much to the delight of many girls.

LESHY was the final Bishop of the Old Faith, the youngest and last to be betrayed. He was the first to be struck down and the first to be brought back, both times cut down in one single attack from Lambert. As the God of Chaos and Order, and someone who respects a good fight, he was easily converted thanks to Lambert’s dedicated attention to dealing with him.

Any attempts to assign Leshy to a duty end in failure. He often does whatever work interests him that day, to mixed results. So his “official” role is that of an enforcer, which he often takes to mean “the bookie, right? The guy that keeps track of all the bets? Yeah I got that, no problem.“  But he has no hesitation when it comes to helping Lambert take care of the cult.

[the-jordas-trials]

teehee. More earthmovers. Reference time aswell YIPPEE!!! This is by all means not all of my stupid war horses, theres like so many more still in the back of my brain who i gotta design, that atop doing designs for each ones final moments/ Whalefall just vibing on the surface.

more info about each under the cut (poke me about any of these guys i WILL ramble more bout them)

Benjamin: here just for a height reference. Standard Civilian class earthmover. Just a littol man (bonus points if you manage to find V1 hidden on his ref. Carefull. V1 is like five pixels tall but it IS there)

Pyroclastic: Supreme Escalation Class. Ruthless and violent, known to stop at nothing untill his targets have been eliminated. Pyro's name sake was drawn due to his size causing extensive overheat, as a result, vents were built and installed post creation, allowing him to turn the tide of most fights by dumping superheated steam/blood and vapour directly onto the field, often melting or overheating rivals. Pyro is considered a 'failed' EM, having he failed the second 'hurdle' of an earthmover's coming of age. Winning a fight against the last made, Whalefall. Disgraced, he was often chased away from his kills and only gained respect after wiping out several Supreme class herds, earning the nickname Burning Devil. Starshine: early Greater Escalation class. SS is old for an earthmover, but by far not the eldest, old enough before the design was fully nailed down. She supports a prototype canon, opposed to the usual javelin, she was designed to get up close and personal before overloading a rivals shield with a canon shot, allowing a fellow herd member to later take them down. SS pingponged between herds, and was later wounded and found by Whalefall. She's rather squeamish, shockingly kind and was known to go without refueling and resting form months on end. Both she and Whalefall survived the long night and new peace, untill the machine uprising, where Pyroclastic cut her down. Whalefall: Supreme Scavenger/Civilian class later repurposed for escalation. Whalefall is an oddity, having being a dual class earthmover, and was later upgraded before the long night set in. She's deceptively fast, known to sprint down her rivals and body slam them. She's also one of the few earthmovers known to weaponize an old targeting glitch, rearing up onto her hind legs and using the sun as cover, forcing her foe's to loose agro and lo longer class her as a 'threat' due to the sudden lack of javelin. Whalefall is also one of the few earthmovers post Hell Invasion that're still alive and is somewhat able to move, she now rests overgrown awaiting for her last maintenance machine to return from its hell dive.

Cyclone: Lesser plateau class. Cyclone is apart of the last round of earthmover's before the refineries and factories were razed to the ground. Apart of the 'colt/filly' round, small due to the lack of resources to make a herd of full sized earthmovers. Typical for his herd, Cyclone sports massive electric generators along his flanks, allowing him to electrify rivals. His herd splintered early on, joining up with existing herds, he found himself in the care of Whalefall fairly early on. Perished during the long night after tripping and unable to follow Whalefall and Starshine. Divergent: Standard civilian class. She's nothing to write home about. Born, killed, earned respect, then left alone. She's bog standard. Often living a peaceful life protected by her two sisters. Converse often with other herds, including Whalefalls, her large antenna array allowing her to do so. She's a known peace keeper, and was able to talk sever herds out of fighting multiple times. Convergent: Greater escalation class. By far one of the most hyperactive earthmovers. Known sprinter, known escalator. She was violent and hot headed, often shot first, hailed for peace second. Horridly protective over her sisters. She was wounded early on in her life, having taken an unlucky hit to her neck and surviving by the skin of her teeth. As a result she cant look down nor does she have full range of movement within her neck. Transform: Supreme civilian class. Form had by far the largest population atop her back, and as a result could hardly move faster than a shamble. Before the long night set in, she had been gravely wounded on her hind right leg, resulting in an extensive limp. Despite that Form is one of the few Civilian class movers that're willing to fight, and fight often. References still to draw are: Tsunami, Geyser, Eruption, Habitat, Freeze, Solarflair, Pompey, Hurricane, Typhoon and Tropical. yeah... theres alot of these fuckers lmao.

[skyartworkzzz]

what do the bishops do in the cult? Are they happy or plotting revenge?

At first their reactions varied from plotting revenge to escaping or overtaking the cult, I think all of them have tried to kill the Lamb at some point xD

But with enough time and the right companies, they eventually learned to like their new home! And even find themselves guilty for what theyve done in the past, each at their own pace and manner

Long texts under the cut for more details! :D

Leshy was probably the less-management one, when he joined he'd break a lot of things and purposefully make the Lamb's life harder, like a kid throwing a tantrum It was only when he was assigned under Beau's care that he chilled out. Beau has always been good with people, so it was no problem for him to figure Leshy out and help him to eventually come to terms with his new home After the getting-used-to's, Leshy became pretty much the chillest out of all the other Bishops. He's fine with living in the cult and honestly enjoys it to an extent, but will obviously never say it aloud xD once threatening people and the Lamb, now befriending / getting acquainted with some of them! He works as a farmer or bartender most of the time

Heket was surprisingly along the same lines of chill. She was definitely unhappy with her situation, but was the most relieved one to be free from the Crowns influence Now able to genuinely experience the taste of food and feel that emptiness inside of her being filled in at last, she quickly learned to like her new home Ofc tho, she never said it, and in fact became much quieter compared to before, since she no longer had the Crowns power to easen up her throat. Now it hurts a lot more to talk, she has to take meds in order to soothe it up and tends to communicate mostly in gestures, stares or acts of service depending on her mood. She also knows sign language! :D She mostly works at the mines or lumberyards, seemingly enjoying to break things apart. The Lamb thinks its her way of "coping" with not being a Bishop anymore lol Out of all the Bishops, shes probably the loneliest, not many have the guts to approach her and Heket tends to like being by herself usually. Sometimes she can be found sulking about with Narinder, the second loneliest out of all the others

Kallamar was likely the most outraged one, since hes been stripped away from the luxuries of being a Bishop like clothings, weapons, jewelries, a nice fancy home. He thought that getting the Crowns back could bring his old life back, not for the sake of power, but the comfort and safety it gave him. Hes definitely the one who has tried scheming against the Lamb many times, still holding his knowledge of weapons and magic in general. But to no surprise, he always failed LOL Kallamar only started calming down once seeing his spouses/disciples in the cult, whom he had tried to get to work with him against the Lamb, but refused or failed still After everything, he'd become depressed, desperately missing when he was taken seriously as an authority figure, but with time his spouses will teach him to like his new life Nowadays he still misses his old life, but is more at peace with being in the cult, especially knowing those he loves and cares about the most are with him (aka his spouses and siblings). Hes the one who will break the most sweat to truly get used to the cult Sometimes he works as a tailor or at the refinery, crafting tends to calm him down and distract him from his thoughts. However, he mostly prefers to be a medic at the Healing Bay, since its one of the few things that remind him of what he once was

Shamura would likely jump from chill to disturbed depending on their mood. Although they believe to be deserving of their punishment, a part of their mind which was considerably overtaken by the Crowns' ideals will sometimes force them to look for a way out or relinquish back the eldritch power, usually against Shamura's will, like voices they'd hear from time to time telling them what to do All in all tho, theyd be the one to try their best to like their new home and even purposefully make themselves miserable out of guilt for their past mistakes, something which the Lamb is either compassionate for or allows them to do due to their own hatred for the Bishops still There'd be many times where Shamura seemed to "sleepwalk" around or found themselves outside the cult without memory of how they got there. Itd be only when they ask the Lamb to become their Disciple that the voices in their head start to quiet down, now being overpowered by the Red Crowns influence Eventually, they become an official Disciple and scribe for the Lamb. Their psychotic episodes will significantly reduce, but still happen from time to time with minor consequences The Lamb often finds themselves questioning whether Shamura is being genuine on what theyve chosen, but is very much compelled to forgive them one day

[redpenship]

As requested, here is an edited version (although I left some stuff in that doesn't really need to be there, like the whole section on the NPT) of my paper on nuclear strategy in the Sonic Adventure series:

None of this is good, Vector. That’s why it’s called war. 

- Knuckles the Echidna, in Sonic Forces (2017)

Sonic the Hedgehog is a very weird video game series. 

(Author's note: the quality of this paper does not reflect the majority of my academic writing. It was for a 200-level (beginner's) English class wherein I was encouraged to do whatever I wanted and not worry about tone, topic, etc. I also wrote it in less than a day after having written 3 other papers the same week, and was suffering from sleep deprivation and brain fog while writing it. I have not included my references in this post because they were done in Chicago footnote format and don't paste into Tumblr well. If you want more info on anything I mention, I will gladly provide sources on said topics! Ty ty)

---

Sonic the Hedgehog is a very weird video game series. 

This statement has nothing to do with its varying quality of gameplay. Sonic the Hedgehog is weird because its surface presentation as a colourful, furry-adjacent Dragon Ball rip-off disguises its extremely fascinating perspectives on warfare. The games frequently feature weapons of mass destruction in its stories, which allows for interesting analysis on the strategies used in-game and how it relates to American perspectives on nuclear war. The first game analyzed will be Sonic Adventure, which depicts an attempted nuclear strike on an American city. The second game analyzed will be Sonic Adventure 2, which features an attempt at WMD-boosted bargaining. These games will be used to answer the following research question: which side does Dr. Eggman take in the Borden-Brodie debate on nuclear weapons strategy? 

As a brief explanation, the Borden-Brodie debate is about how nuclear weapons will actually be used in a nuclear war between two states. This debate emerged in the late 1940s and early 1950s, as theorists attempted to predict the future of war after the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Borden predicted that nuclear weapons would be used as “big artillery” to support regular military attacks, whereas Brodie predicted that the devastating effects of nuclear weapons would make war between two nuclear weapons states (NWS) inconceivable. Brodie appears to have won the debate as nuclear doctrine shifted to favour deterrence during the Cold War, but we must consider the following idea: perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, there has not been a conflict worth using them for just yet.

What is the geopolitical situation in Sonic the Hedgehog? Technically, the series takes place on Earth, but it’s a little different. Instead of the United States, there is the United Federation, instead of Greece there is Apotos, and instead of Africa there is Mazuri, because even the fun cartoon animal game cannot keep itself from generalizing the entire African continent into one entity. These countries are predominantly inhabited by humans, who live on the continents, and the animal-people (like Sonic and friends) live on small offshore islands. There has never been an explanation for why this separation exists, and while it could be fun to explore potential reasons, that is not the point of this paper!

Dr. Eggman typically begins his campaigns of world domination on these islands. He captures small animals to be used as batteries in his machines and builds extractive industrial plants, such as oil refineries and chemical plants. Sonic opposes him in the earlier games because he is harming the environment, and this has turned into a standard rivalry as the games have continued and Eggman’s evil plans have grown in scale. As soon as the games give the characters spoken dialogue in Sonic Adventure, Eggman’s schemes move away from resource extraction and towards using huge weapons and awakened ancient gods in order to conquer the planet. This is where the weapons of mass destruction come into play.

The first depiction of a WMD in Sonic the Hedgehog is in Sonic Adventure, where Eggman attempts to murder-suicide Station Square (in-universe San Francisco) by firing a submarine-launched ballistic missile (SLBM) at the city while he is still in it. He does this because he is upset that his plan failed, although perhaps he was attempting to show us mercy by wiping all the Silicon Valley bros off the face of the planet. Regardless of exact intention, his attempt to nuke Station Square says a lot about his perspective on nuclear war, which will be discussed below. 

When dealing with an enemy, their perception of you and their own weapons are crucial to understand. The norm in nuclear doctrine is that nuclear weapons are used in retaliation to extremely high levels of threat. However, this has not always been the case—in the 1950s, they were generally perceived as really big bombs that could be used in combination with normal artillery. This theory was emphasized most by the radically anti-communist William Borden, also famous for testifying against Oppenheimer in his security clearance review, who argued that nuclear war will target military infrastructure and end when one side in the conflict has run out of weapons. Therefore, it is in the best interest of the United States to possess as many weapons as possible because it is the quantity they possess that will render them victorious. City-busting occurs after the war, when you are free to hurt your enemy’s civilian population without fear of retaliation. Or, perhaps, when you have nothing left to lose—which is exactly what happened in Eggman’s case. 

Borden predicted that nuclear weapons states would disperse their launchers and military bases to make them harder to strike. He likewise predicted the use of nuclear missile-equipped submarines (SSBNs), which are used strategically for second strikes; submarines are hard to find, and can be positioned close to the enemy, making them very useful for retaliation. This is precisely in line with Eggman’s attack in Sonic Adventure 1, which used an SSBN close to the enemy’s civilian population as a last resort punishment after he incurred heavy losses. Whether or not this was a smart thing for Eggman to do is up in the air—the SLBM appeared to be an attempted surface burst on a city, which would actually minimize casualties when compared to an air burst detonation, so it is very likely that he cares more about building cool bombs than understanding how to use them properly—but it is clear that he is a champion of the Borden expectations of nuclear warfare nonetheless!

Eggman’s arguably insane, vengeful attack on Station Square stokes fears of nuclear armageddon that were hyper-present during the Cold War. Although he has been referred to as Dr. Eggman exclusively so far in this essay, this is not the case in Sonic Adventure—Tails, the character present in the city while the attack happens, refers to him as “Dr. Robotnik”. The character’s “real” name is Ivo Robotnik, which was given to him by American translators in lieu of “Eggman” when the classic games first released. It may not be surprising that American translators at the end of the Cold War decided to give an industrialist who primarily wears red an Eastern European sounding name. Russians are disproportionately featured as enemies in video games, eclipsing both the Axis Powers (typically Germany or Japan) and Arabs (as terrorists) in studied games. In wartime, framing one’s enemies as irrational is a core component of propaganda. Depicting someone named “Robotnik” as a self-driven madman who is willing to nuke an entire city when he loses feeds into assumptions that the enemies of the United States are not rational, which is then used to justify US hegemony on the international scene—someone has to keep these unruly states in line! This is especially true for the non-proliferation regime, which has been regarded by some states as neocolonial. India, a nuclear weapons state, has argued that the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons is discriminatory because it does not ban vertical proliferation. This stance generally purports that non-proliferation treaties are used to keep nuclear weapons out of “undesirable” hands while allowing nuclear weapons states to maintain and build on their own stockpile (vertical proliferation). Fears of certain states (such as Iran or North Korea) acquiring arsenals are presented as imminent dangers because enemies of the United States are always inherently irrational, and therefore cannot be trusted with such powerful weapons. The idea of “rationality” has been weaponized in service of white supremacy—and to a lesser extent, the patriarchy—for centuries and it should surprise no one that an international nonproliferation regime, largely built by and for states who were founded and are sustained on the premise of white supremacy, would prop up inequality and keep nuclear weapons only in the hands of those who “deserve” them. Although Russia is not a victim of this regime, it is frequently depicted as irrational and untrustworthy with nuclear weapons. Robotnik’s attack on Station Square is reminiscent of this rhetoric. 

Of course, Sonic is a Japanese video game, which should grant it some leniency in the depiction of a nuclear attack as inherently irrational and violent. But for American players, who are meant to perceive this as an attack on a fictionalized version of their country, the implications are more specifically anti-Russian.

Sonic Adventure 2 flips this script a bit: as it would turn out, Eggman is American, and members of his extended family were killed in a coverup operation by the Sonic equivalent of the US military, Guardian Unit of Nations—typically abbreviated to GUN. His grandfather, Gerald Robotnik, was commissioned to research immortality and weapons of mass destruction aboard the space colony ARK. One of his creations was the Eclipse Cannon, a giant laser capable of destroying the planet. 

Between games, Eggman has seemingly underwent the same attitude shift as every other NWS during the Cold War, because he has now discovered that WMDs can be used to threaten your enemies into getting what you want. On the ARK, Eggman activates the Eclipse Cannon and does the following:

1. Uses its laser to destroy part of the moon in a show of force; 

2. Threatens to use it against the Earth unless he is crowned emperor of the planet; 

3. Gives Earth 24 hours to accept. 

Did Bernard Brodie predict the plot of Sonic Adventure 2? In his earliest work The Absolute Weapon, he argued that the absolute power of a nuclear bomb would make wars too costly to fight. The primary purpose for governments would therefore be to avoid war at all costs, since any of them could result in devastating nuclear war. Brodie also wrote many pieces laying out strategies of nuclear deterrence, which continue to be used to this day. 

There is a common knee-jerk reaction to Eggman’s story that I see in fan discussions of the game. Many comments feature the following logic: “Why would Eggman blow up the planet he wants to rule? Either the writer is stupider than me, or Eggman is lying!” This is a very understandable way to perceive his threat with the Eclipse Cannon—why would someone make such an unreasonable threat? Does he really expect it to work? Who is going to buy this?

The game provides no insight into the general reaction to this by the world’s governments. However, Sonic and friends believe his threat right away, and race to the ARK to stop him. They are correct to do so—Eggman does end up trying to use the Eclipse Cannon against the Earth, but it does not work because Gerald Robotnik programmed it to fail if ever used. Therefore, we know that Eggman was not bluffing about his threat to destroy the planet at all. We know that he was actually going to do it. So, why do fans of the game continue to argue that Eggman’s threat was pointless? 

Bernard Brodie’s concept of the absolute weapon has become the mainstream view of WMDs in the public consciousness. We fear nuclear weapons because of their destructive power and believe that no conflict could ever require their deployment. We believe other NWS hold the same concerns. This perspective is then projected onto Eggman by fans, who mistakenly assume he should foster the same feelings about WMDs. The assumption that Eggman was not willing to go through with his plan, or that the world’s governments would not surrender to him, requires Eggman to value his own life over the success of his empire. The first Sonic Adventure game has Eggman attempt to nuke a city he is standing in. A suicidal, last-ditch plan to take over the world is perfectly in-line with his character. What is the point of living if he cannot have his way? What is the point of a planet’s existence if he is not the one in charge? These are the questions driving Eggman’s decisions in the games. 

Sonic Adventure 2 does not reject Brodie’s theories, but does provide a counterargument: deterrence breaks down when one’s ambitions outgrow the potential retaliation for acting upon them. Eggman’s dream of ruling the world was stronger than his will to live. Mortal terror was not enough to curb his imperial ambitions, and the Earth was almost destroyed as consequence of this perspective. 

When the two games are measured against one another, it becomes apparent that Eggman has taken a very clear stance on the Borden-Brodie debate: he is a supporter of the Borden perspective on nuclear war! He does not believe in absolute deterrence and treats WMDs as usable tools in his arsenal, even at a potential detriment to himself. His actions in Sonic Adventure 2 align his views with one of Borden’s biggest theories: the winner of a nuclear war will not be the state who inflicts the most damage on their enemy, but rather the one who does not run out of nuclear weapons first. Eggman is determined to be the last one standing—even if it means standing alone atop the ashes of the world. 

[lordmartiya]

On Trump cutting help to everyone but Israel and Egypt... He fucked up. As in, he literally just caused one of the things he said he would prevent, and I actually expected him to keep his word on this because doing otherwise would be immensely STUPID and successfully unite a large chunk of world, INCLUDING Israel, to be pissed at him. What I'm referring top is the impending increase in oil and fuel prices.

When Russia started its full scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, a regime of sanctions was put in place with a precise goal: to keep Russia from making money out of its refined oil exports without removing said products from the market, thus increasing immensely the oil products worldwide including the US (a state with abundant exports, but the global market means that if oil prices go up they go up EVERYWHERE). This scheme worked, but had a very clear weak spot, namely Ukraine's increasing ability to forcibly stop the exports by targeting the pipelines, refineries (mostly on the Black Sea coast, as most of the exports were historically aimed to Europe and the initial oil fields were closer), and the so-called "shadow fleet" of poorly maintained tankers that allows the buyers to import Russian oil products and gas at higher prices than the price cap established by the sanctions (but still well below the market price).

Ukraine so far hadn't seriously tackled the Russia energy export ability because the US and Europe had a deal with them, weapons and help in exchange for not skyrocketing oil prices worldwide, a deal Ukraine mostly kept to... And then THIS IDIOT decided to give a "show of force" by cutting off help to Ukraine for ninety days. To which Ukraine, to whom defeat would mean genocide and knows better than stop fighting without solid guarantees, has already answered via an ACTUAL show of force by hitting the Ryazan Oil Refinery (the largest oil refinery in Russia, 196 km from Moscow thus making it a visible target). Twice. And at least the second attack caused secondary fires, with consequent "bonus" damage.

I don't have a car so I don't really notice this stuff unless I look at the oil pumps... But I expect gasoline and diesel prices to spike soon if they already haven't, leading a large chunk of America's allies, including Israel (oil IMPORTER nation, as they have no oil deposit) to tell this idiot to make a waiver for Ukraine YESTERDAY, all the while OPEC laughs and makes money after this long term decrease of the offer of oil products around the world.

He decided to show the world he had it by the balls, but it was the world that squeezed.

[tomorrowusa]

Ukrainian drones blew up a large Russian arms depot west of Moscow. The blast was large enough to have been detected by earthquake sensors.

A Ukrainian drone attack on a large Russian weapons depot caused a blast that was picked up by earthquake monitoring stations, in one of the biggest strikes on Moscow’s military arsenal since the war began. Pro-Russian military bloggers said Ukraine struck an arsenal for the storage of missiles, ammunition and explosives in Toropets, a historic town more than 300 miles north of Ukraine and about 230 miles west of Moscow. Videos and images on social media showed a huge ball of flame rising high into the night sky and detonations thundering across a lake, in a region not far from the border with Belarus. The strike was part of a broader Ukrainian drone campaign targeting Russian oil refineries, power plants, airfields and military factories, and highlights Kyiv’s enhanced long-range drone capabilities. Earthquake monitoring stations registered what sensors thought was a minor earthquake in the area.

The blast was so big that in the first couple of seconds it appears to be during daytime.

The Kyiv Independent has additional details.

Arms depot in Russia's Tver Oblast built to withstand nuclear explosion heavily damaged by Ukrainian drones

Back in 2018, the Russian Defense Ministry bragged that this facility would be prepared to withstand even a nuclear explosion. Six years later, the claim was proven to be false. According to the SBU, the arsenal stored ballistic missiles, including Iskanders, anti-aircraft missiles, artillery ammunition, and KAB guided bombs. The attack "literally wiped off the face of the earth a large warehouse of the main missile and artillery department of the Russian Defense Ministry," the SBU source said. The construction of the arsenal, controlled by the Main Missile and Artillery Directorate, began in 2015 in the town of Toropets, located 480 kilometers north of Ukraine. The construction was part of a 2012 government program set to improve Russia's storage of missiles, ammunition, and explosives. According to Russia's Defense Ministry, the program, worth 90 billion rubles (nearly $980 million), called for 13 modern arms depots to be built. [ ... ] Yet the source in the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) told the Kyiv Independent that a "very powerful detonation" occurred, and the affected area was 6 kilometers (3.7 miles) wide. NASA satellites also recorded a surge in thermal activity in Tver Oblast, where the 107th arsenal of the Main Missile and Artillery Directorate is located. "The arsenal seems to have been built correctly, with bunkered storage facilities that can hold up to 240 tons of ammunition each," Serhiy Zgurets, military expert and CEO of the Ukrainian media Defense Express, told the Kyiv Independent.

As Joe Biden might put it, this is "a big fucking deal". Months worth of ammunition, missiles, and other ordnance which was waiting to be used against Ukrainians has been eliminated.

In total, about 30,000 tons of ammunition were stored in the arsenal in Toropets, which could have been enough to conduct attacks for months, according to the expert. Russia most likely stored 122 mm Grad ammunition, 82 mm mines, and missiles for Buk medium-range surface-to-air missile systems, among other munitions, according to Zgurets.

Ukraine apparently destroyed 30,000 tons (i.e. 30 kilotons) of ammo. For comparison, the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima was the equivalent of 15 kilotons.

Ukrainians are intelligent and resourceful. They are now building drones which cannot be jammed by electronic warfare. They may have used those to get to Toropets.

And it seems a bit weird that Russia would build a gigantic arsenal just 4.51 km (less than 3 miles) from downtown Toropets – a scenic town and local administrative center.

So Ukraine has now penetrated and destroyed an impenetrable arms depot. Previously, Ukraine has stopped unstoppable Kinzhal Russian missiles. This war is unwinnable for Russia but the country continues to humiliate itself with its unmistakable military ineptitude.

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 4 - Post #9: Lucid Dreams [M]

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 6K (ninth post in Volume 4)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

A/N: this post is ~90% smut please proceed with caution

_______________________________

IX. “Who are they?” the Mandalorian asks.

You peer out from the gap under his arm. Up on the slope above, you spot the hazy outline of several figures making their way through the scattered huts and dwellings clinging to the mountainside. 

“Guards,” you say, recognizing the bright patches sewn over their breast pockets. “But I don’t think they’re on patrol.” 

The figures sway and meander as though too drunk to walk straight. They keep bunching up together to pass something around—a bottle, maybe?—only to break apart again to avoid tripping over each other. 

“Tagge Corp?”

“Not officially. Most are Lakarani, but they’re trained and outfitted by the Tagge’s to ensure…order.”

Mando unholsters his blaster.

“Don’t,” you whisper, placing a cautionary hand over his fist. “Please! If you’re seen—it could jeopardize everything.” 

He ignores your hushed warnings. “Can you confirm how many?”

“Three,” you mutter, growing more frustrated by the second. The Mandalorian might be accustomed to doing whatever he feels like without worrying about the consequences, but shooting his way through the entire camp, will put your whole operation in danger.

“Let’s not do anything rash, okay? They’re probably just making their way to the bonfire. That’s where everyone’s gathering for the solstice.”

“Weapons?”

Really? Okay. Yeah, stabbing him suddenly feels like a fantastic idea. 

“They usually take tasers on patrol. Some carry blasters.”

“Alright,” he says. “We hope they pass by. But if they make trouble for us…I’ll take care of the bodies.”

“Bodies?!” you groan.

“Leave the carcasses in the woods for predators. When the river washes up what’s left of them, it’ll look like an animal attack,” Mando shrugs. “An accident.”

You rub your hands over your face to prevent yourself from wrapping them around the Mandalorian’s throat. 

“Three missing guards is not going to look like an accident no matter what state they’re found in.” There’s a sharp edge to your words that only hinted at the rage building inside your chest. This isn’t some Outer Rim trading depot. Any sign of trouble would put the TaggeCo refinery on high alert. 

Sure, the Tagges liked to appear uninterested in the settlement right outside their gate. When it suited them. When they could claim ignorance about the appalling living conditions and environmental contamination. But they were, in fact, very interested in any signs of disorder. And three dead guards would certainly raise some eyebrows.   

Did they make the camp guards wear trackers? The guard Humia’s been sleeping with is the one who showed her how to block the signal. That didn’t necessarily mean—kriffing hell! If Mando leaves behind a bloody path that leads right back to your doorstep? Humia, Davik, and Serenio will all be fucked.

“Keep your head down,” the Mandalorian urges, angling his shoulders so the cloak hides you from view.

“Dammit, would you listen to me!” and you’re not the only one surprised to hear the fury in your voice. Mando’s head snaps up at attention. “Look,” you whisper softly, trying to regain some composure. “I know we haven’t spoken in weeks—”

“That was for your protection,” he says defensively. “You think I wanted—”

“That’s as may be,” you cut him off. “But my point is that you have no fucking clue how things work around here, or how close I am to—for you to just—you can’t just show up and—”

Mando’s hand closes firmly over your mouth, “They’re coming.” 

Light from the guard’s lantern splutters overhead, flickering against the steel and tin as it hovers aloft, illuminating their path down the slope.  

The Mandalorian’s hand slides up the back of your neck to press your forehead against his chest, completely obscuring your view of the approaching guards. You can only hear your breath and his, and the sound of footsteps coming closer.

While the criss-cross of shadows underneath the hut helps to conceal you, you aren’t totally hidden from sight. If they happen to look in your direction when they follow the path between the houses, the guards will see you under the lantern light. 

Or maybe the gods will be merciful? Most people never look further than the next foot in front of them, and these three are so drunk, they need all their concentration to stay upright. They might simply walk past and—   

But you hear from the crunch of gravel that they’ve already noticed the two indistinct figures huddled together amidst the pilings.  

They slow down. Suspicion? Voyeurism? You can’t be sure. 

But that last thought gives you sudden inspiration. “Grab me,” you whisper, looking into the Mandalorian’s viewplate. When he pauses to stare down at you in confusion, you explain, “Like you’re taking me up against the pylon.” 

There’s no time to run and even less time to think. You need to hide. Only there’s nowhere to hide—except exactly where you’re standing.

Mando catches on quick. He tucks the blaster into the bandolier strapped across his chest, and with two strong hands, grabs your ass in his wide palms and hauls you against his hips. The hard press of his body sends a trill of panic coursing through you. He has you pushed up against the steel beam now. You hadn’t really thought this through. Yet, despite your anger and frustration from moments ago, instead of pulling back, you lean closer. Lean into him. 

Leather fingers glide down your thigh to grip your knee, before he hoists your leg up, wrapping it around his back. He moves so fast and with such force, you have to throw your hands out behind you to brace yourself against the piling. The hem of your robe tugs open, the fabric falling aside to expose your leg from toe to hip, and the Beskar tasset scrapes against your bare skin. 

But the thrill of sensation when he presses his hips between your thighs, pinning you against the steel and concrete, is so good that you hardly notice. Suddenly you don’t care about him ignoring you, or the thoughtlessness of his actions. Pleasure arcs through you, and you gasp. 

The sound draws the guards’ attention. 

“Take a look at these two,” one of them guffaws. 

The beam from the lantern droid turns, casting a thin fluorescent glow over the pilings underneath your hut. With the Mandalorian’s hood draped over him, the cloak is just long enough to cover the Beskar, and his armor remains hidden. Hopefully, they won’t see the disintegration rounds strapped to his shin.  

“Remember,” Mando growls through clenched teeth. “This was your idea.” 

“I—” you have no idea what you planned to say in response—sorry?—but it doesn’t matter. 

Because that’s when his leather hand slips under the crease of your knee, lifting your leg up so high you have to wrap an arm around his shoulder to keep from falling. You barely regain your balance, when his hips buck, shoving you back against the rigid steel so hard you feel the pressure of his straining erection rub against you through the flight suit.

Oh?! Oh. Interesting! 

Is one gasp of pleasure in the Mandalorian’s ear all it takes to get that kind of reaction? Knowing that Mando is just as aroused, just as helpless to resist the force of attraction between you, is such an exhilarating rush. 

You feel ungodly smug right now. Still got it, you think to yourself. 

Then his hips buck again, and you lose the ability to think about anything else at all. It only lasts a moment, but that’s long enough to send a surge of pleasure ricocheting through you. A jolt of aching desire throbs between your thighs, and the cry that escapes your lips isn’t performance. 

“Whoa-ho, brother!” another of the guards chuckles. “Careful not to break her.”

They all laugh at this, and one of them calls out, adding, “Your queen deserves a bed, brother.” 

“A bed of blossoms for Ehki’s daughter!”  

“It’s Honatoka, brother! Where are her flowers?” 

“A crown of flowers for your queen!”

They are very loud and very drunk. Yet, some part of your brain vaguely acknowledges the harmless nature of their taunting. You sense no ill will from any of them. They had slowed down to jeer but made no attempt to approach. 

“Come on, you perverts! He doesn’t need you shouting suggestions.”

“Ah, you’re right, ha ha! At that rate, he won’t last much longer.” 

“My back hurts just watching.”

They howl in a chorus of raucous laughter as the slow tread of their footsteps continues to carry them down the rocky path.

Which should come as a relief. However, most of your brain is consumed by whether you might actually orgasm from the stimulation of the Mandalorian rutting between your thighs. This might be an act, but the way he pretends to fuck you is merciless. The rhythm of his hips is slow and brutal. 

You feel precariously weightless. The rigid strength of Mando’s arms is the only thing bearing you upright. He’d slid a hand behind your back, bracing his elbow against the pylon next to your face to conceal you from view as the guards pass by. But, his other hand remains cinched around your thigh, knee nearly pressed against your chin, using the leverage to hold you in place. Beneath the robe, you only have on a thin pair of shorts you were wearing when you fell asleep, and with each thrust, you feel the hard press of his cock rubbing the fabric against your clit.

By now, the sensation is almost overwhelming. Each time, you have to gasp for breath, caught between the bursts of pleasure—reeling on the edge of climax. All the blood in your body rushes to your cunt, pulsing with his every thrust, over and over. 

And, Blessed Mother, the sound of his breathing coming shallow and fast is enough to bring you to the brink already. You’re so close. 

Is this what he was like with other women? The women who came before, who fucked him in his armor and left afterward? Your time together had been so gentle and tender—Mando’s first time making love, being naked, sharing a bed in the aftermath. But you want this side of him, too. You want all of him. 

For some reason, the lantern droid had lingered to hover above the path, still casting its thin light overhead. You watch the undulation of his shadow while the Mandalorian rocks his hips against you. A jagged phantom looming over you, claiming you. You close your eyes and arch into his thrusts as the world goes black.

But even as you dance along the dizzying edge of orgasm, you can’t let go. Dammit, you can’t stop thinking about those faceless women. Ferocious mercenaries and cold-hearted bounty hunters, you imagine. Women of action, who did not sob under their blankets, wracked with indecision. 

Well, you may not be ruthless, but you can be shameless. Tonight, you want to erase everyone else who came before. Tonight, think only of me. 

The Mandalorian worships your tits, and from this angle, he must have a spectacular view of them bouncing with each clash of his hips. You know he must be watching, staring down at them, hypnotized and longing to touch them. So you reach for the hand on your thigh and press his palm over your breast.

Mando’s tenses in surprise. “Are they gone?” he asks in a low voice.

“Do you care?” you reply, letting all that urgency and desire fill your words. 

It takes him a minute to consider. Both the droid’s light and the guard’s boisterous laughter had finally faded away, leaving you behind in the quiet darkness. Still…maybe this was too reckless for him. Too impulsive. You don’t want to push his boundaries, but that’s exactly what makes it thrilling, right? That desire can make the rest of the world fade away, blurring out the periphery. 

Mando sighs, his fingers tracing the neckline of your robe, when he can’t find the words to answer.

The fabric is drapey enough for him to push aside, baring your breasts to the night air. The camisole you wore to bed is lace, so old and worn it's downy soft. And threadbare. Your nipples press against the gaping weave, visibly darkening with arousal. They pinch from the cold and anticipation. 

As his thumb brushes over your puckered skin, you suck in a sharp breath—“Mmph!”—then he squeezes. Hard. Then soft, then hard again. Arousal spirals through you, down to your core, as he kneads and caresses. The hand he had braced against the pylon, slips down to trail over the length of your neck, past your collarbone, and between your breasts until he presses them together tightly. The contrasting sensation of the soft leather and lace roughly teasing over your nipples is almost too much to bear. 

You bite your lip to keep from crying out.

“This is what you want?” Mando whispers. His hand lifts to cup your face, and you can feel his gaze boring into you, seeking out what’s hidden in the depths of your eyes. “Here? Now? In the armor?”

“Yes,” you moan. Sweet, merciful gods, yes! Your cunt is so tight and hot that it almost hurts. Tilting your hips at just the right angle, you rub yourself against his cock and feel the friction of the fabric glide across your clit again. You’re already soaking wet—so wet he must feel the dampness through his flight suit. 

“Hu-ungh,” the Mandalorian groans, before gripping you by the waist so he can meet the thrust of your hips and grind back against you. The hard press of his erection sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can make it if you keep doing that,” his voice is gruff and hoarse. “But you’re angry…what if you regret this?”

You feel a frantic bubble of laughter rising in your throat. How did you manage to fuck each other in the first place? You are both far too honorable!

Of course, Mando’s not wrong. But all that anger from before has, by now, transformed into lust—igniting the heat of passion, so hot it warms the hollow places in your heart. And you want to feel the full force of that heat. Burning through desperate emotions like hurt and despair, and, yes—jealously—to reclaim your confidence the best way you know how. With sex.

You want to feel powerful, the way you do when the Mandalorian gasps your name, as though it was his last dying breath.

“It’s nothing to do with you,” you lie, and maybe he is right about you being a terrible liar. Because when he continues to hesitate, you grow downright incensed. How dare he change his mind now, after you’ve decided this is what you want?

“Please, Mando,” you moan. “I need you.”

Those pleading words wrench something within him. “Maker, help me,” he says, jaw tight, as he reaches to hold your face in his leather palms. “But, I fucking love hearing you say please.” 

Now you’ve got him swearing? Your mouth curves into a triumphant grin. 

“You love hearing me beg,” you correct him with a sly wink. “Now let go, so I can get my hands around your cock.”

He breathes out sharply as though you’d struck him. Okay. So the Mandalorian likes it when you talk dirty? Or perhaps it’s your confidence he enjoys. He’s drawn to strong women, after all. 

His hands pull away as he stands up straighter and takes a step back. The night air rushes in to fill the sudden gap between your bodies, and for a terrifying second, you feel the dreadful weight of rejection ready to crush you. But the next second, Mando’s fingers close around your wrist, guiding your hand downward to place your palm over his straining erection. 

“It’s already so hard for you,” he says, his grip is as firm as his tone is soft. And you love it. That despite the gallantry, your boldness makes him bold. He needs this as much as you do.

By now, you feel dizzy—hazy with lust. The guttural moan he gives when you curl your fingers around his cock and slowly stroke your palm over its length is intoxicating, like a drug. You don’t care who might see, and you don’t care how shameless it is.

Tonight, think only of me. 

You bite your lip. “Last time we did this, you had me up against a wall,” you say, glancing at the closest pylon behind him, judging the distance. “Hmm, something something turnabout’s fair play?”

With that, you reach out to place your hands over his chest and push him back against the steel piling. Caught off-guard, he braces his hands wide behind him. As he stands there, mildly shocked, legs slightly spread, you kneel between his thighs and reach for his belt.

“What are you doing?” his voice is tight with strain.

You look up into the view plate, brow arched. “I should think it was obvious.”

It’s a strange logic that getting down on your knees can make you feel powerful, but there’s a thrill of satisfaction knowing the skills you’ve honed over years of practice will reduce this hardened warrior into a trembling state of incoherence. And you want to hear him shouting your name.

You aren’t especially flexible, nor are you totally free of inhibitions, but sucking dick is your one slutty superpower. 

“You don’t—haah,” his breath hitches when you open your mouth to trace your tongue over your lips, wetting them as you release the latch of his belt. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” you say, holding his gaze. “But I want to. And so do you.” 

Your fingers fan wide, palms gliding up the inside of his thighs, trying to ease some of the nervous tension building in his muscles. “Relax,” you murmur teasingly. 

Your hands meet at his inseam, slipping beneath the vest to caress the outline of his stiff erection through the canvas. The purr of his zipper goes almost tooth by tooth. In the breathless, still silence, you can even hear the soft sound of your fingers reaching into his pants to take hold of his enormous cock. 

He’s already so hard that it slips free, jutting into your palm, supple and thick. No matter how many times you see it, it’s still ridiculous! 

Released from the confines of his pants, Mando throbs in your grip, swelling larger between your fingers. The base is a deep bronze, the head is pale pink, growing steadily darker as blood pumps through his veins. He feels feverishly hot against your cool skin, so full that he must ache.

And so caught up in the sight of you kneeling between his legs, that he’s breathless.

With one hand, you circle him in your grip, tightening and loosening your fist as you move up and down the length of his shaft, before brushing your thumb over the tip. You smile up at him when his hips jerk, and you feel the first beads of come slick over your fingers even as his muscles tense, trying to resist the pleasure of it. 

“Relax,” you say again, softer this time. Your voice is almost a whisper, “I’ll take good care of you.” 

And with that, you lift the head of his cock to your mouth and lick away the salty droplets with the tip of your tongue. Finally, you feel his body yield to a different kind of tension. 

“Nnngh!” he groans, gripping your shoulders before gasping something that might have been your name or just a general obscenity. Dirty talk isn’t covered in your Mando’a phrasebook—but it really should be! You make a mental note to download a more comprehensive dictionary, a little shocked that you hadn’t thought of it sooner.

His salty come is warm against your tongue. You trace the tip of his cock over your wet lips, slowly circling the circumference of your open mouth before drawing in just the first few inches, pleased to hear a sharp intake of breath sizzling through the modulator.

“Fuck,” he whispers, winding a hand through your hair as you open your mouth to take him in. You start sucking—soft, slow little swallows at first. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

You don’t give him everything right away. Sometimes, anticipation is the best part. You want him to slow down and enjoy the wait. So you run your tongue along the length of his shaft, lick him, tease the ridges of his crown with your lips, kiss the taut band of tissue underneath, and caress him against your cheeks.

Then, you press your lips against the tip to give him one swirl of your tongue, before sliding them down the length of his shaft. You take a strong, hard pull, hallowing your cheeks.

Mando throws his head back and releases another guttural moan, “Mmn-nngh!” The hand in your hair tightens, until his grip borders on pain. 

With the leather gloves on, he probably can’t tell. But you don’t mind. You like knowing you have this effect on him. And gods divine, the noises he’s making—

Come wells between your legs, so wet it’s drenching your shorts and slicking down your thighs. The urge to touch yourself, to slip a finger inside the wet folds of your cunt, is so unbearable it makes you feel weak. Instead, you grip his rock-hard thighs with both hands and take him in deeper. 

His girth forces you to open your jaw all the way, so big that you can barely use your tongue. It’s all you can do to get the full length of him inside your mouth. The head is almost to the back of your throat, and you feel like you might choke. You have to keep swallowing, faster and faster, just to catch your breath. Come wells against your mouth, trickling from your lips, stretched thin around his thick cock. 

You remember how much he loved your teeth last time, so you tense your jaw a little tighter before lightly dragging them under his shaft, grazing the ridges of his crown as you draw back.

“Aaah! Fuck, yes! That’s...” his fingers clench in your hair. His other hand cups the back of your head, but he can’t find the words to describe exactly what you're doing to him. 

Mando’s huge, but you feel confident you can take more of him down your throat. The trick is to still your breathing and swallow him. Which is where the ability to control your body on a cellular level elevates your dick-sucking abilities into the stratosphere.

But he’s not ready for that yet. You remind yourself to take it slow and luxuriate in the feel of him against your tongue, the taste of salt flooding your mouth. You can feel the tightness in his balls against your chin and wonder just how long it’s been since he’s had head this good. 

Placing your thumb and forefinger around the base of his sac, you gently tug downward to release some of the pressure while continuing to draw him into your mouth, alternating shallow, repetitious strokes and long, languorous pulls. Your other hand closes around the base of his cock so you can pump him in time with your movements.

The sticky come trickling from the corners of your mouth tells you that he’s getting close. You can feel him throb with every stroke. If you want to give him everything you’ve got, it has to be now. 

So you relax any muscle or reflex that might resist, before taking all of him in. You feel every swollen vein of his thick shaft sliding between your slick lips until he fills you all the way to your throat, until your nose touches his warm belly under a coarse thicket of black hair surrounding the base of his cock.  

Cheeks glistening with saliva, come running down your chin, you swallow around him, and the contraction of your throat is enough to make him thrust even deeper. Your mind empties of any thought beyond the pressure of each inch he squeezes further down your throat. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” his hands resting on your head squeeze into fists—you didn’t think he could grip you any tighter, but they do. The very real pain brings tears to your eyes, but it only sharpens your desire. The desperate, aching need, clenching the muscles inside your cunt, is so insistent you could probably come by just pressing your thighs together. 

"Oh, fuck," he gasps.

With your hands braced on his hips, you encourage him to thrust deeper into your mouth and throat in rhythm with each bob of your head. The squelching sound is driving you wild. He’s so close to finishing—so close you can feel his cock pulsing against your lips. His breath becomes shorter and sharper, each one just short of a moan.

Then, suddenly, Mando pulls out of your mouth. He takes a step back and shakes his head, catching himself right on the brink. 

“Did I—” your voice quavers. 

“No,” he looks up at you sharply. “That was perfect…so perfect that…” the Mandalorian stumbles on his next step before leaning back against the pylon.  

Holy crap! The widest, most delightful shit-eating grin spreads across your face. He doesn’t trust himself to stand. Yep, still got it!

“I wasn’t finished,” you say, wiping your chin clean with the back of your hand.

“I know,” he manages between ragged breaths. “But, another minute—aah— fuck, another second—and I would have shouted your name loud enough for the entire parsec to hear.”

Really?! “Then I definitely shouldn’t stop.”

That makes him laugh. 

Mando regains his equilibrium and steps forward, feet steadier now. His cock is still hard, jutting out from his pants, and you nuzzle it against your cheeks as he comes closer.

“Look at me,” he gasps, tilting your chin up. You lift your eyes to meet the jet-black line of his helmet, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“I dreamed of this so many times,” he says, using one hand to gently brush the hair from your cheeks while the other guides his cock back into your mouth. His hips roll so slowly you can tell he’s determined to regain some measure of control. “What does it say about me…that I think you look perfect like this?”

“Mmmm,” your moan of satisfaction is genuine. The praise and validation, the sound of his hitched sighs and groans of pleasure—your entire body reacts—growing flushed, getting impossibly wetter. Your cunt begins to pulse so hard that, for a moment, you think you might come from simply listening to the hunger in his voice. 

The vibration of your lips against his cock sends a jolt through his body, and you remind yourself to dial it down. He doesn’t want to come yet. 

Sometime soon, you’ll need to mention that your abilities can assist with his…longevity. And recovery time. But for now, you can respect his need to slow down.   

You run your tongue underneath the length of his shaft, tease the ridge with your lips, and suck the head once or twice before pulling back. He slips from your mouth, dark and glistening. “Was it this good in your dreams?”

“Nothing feels as good as this,” Mando murmurs.

You’re about to say something clever about that sounding like a challenge, but the words get lost in your throat when his hands slip under your arms, lifting you back onto your feet. One hand slides up your spine to grip the back of your neck, the other clings to your waist. You feel the length and hardness of his erection pressed against your soft belly.

“Mmmph,” he sighs. “Nothing, except maybe the feeling of you clenching around my cock when you come.”

Oh gods, if you could orgasm from just listening to the Mandalorian’s voice, that would have done it.

“How do I make you ready?” he asks.

“That, aaah, won’t be a problem,” and since you’re so determined to prove what a shameless slut you are, you slip your hand between your bodies, down past your stomach, and into your shorts, wetting your fingers before holding them out for him to see. You fix him with what you hope is a smoldering look and drop into your most sultry tone, “See how wet I got with your cock in my mouth.” 

Grabbing you by the wrist, he pulls your hand up toward his face, lifts the steel jaw of his helmet over his mouth, and sucks the come from your fingers. 

Your entire body flushes with heat.

"Haaah," you gasp. The sensation of his warm, wet mouth, the press of his tongue between your fingers, sends the most powerful tidal wave of arousal coursing through your fingertips and down to your cunt. “That was…” but you’ve lost the capacity to speak, let alone describe what may be the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.  

Then, the helmet falls into place, and Mando pushes you back against the pylon. “Turnabout—” he starts to say—

“Yes,” you groan, arching into him. “Exactly,” and you wriggle the silky fabric of your robe against the rough concrete until your shorts slip over your hips and down to your ankles. 

Reaching out for him, you wrap your arms around his neck. He lifts you by the backs of your thighs and guides your legs around his waist, under the tassets. 

The blaster is still tucked against his chest plate, and it's all conflicting sensations—cold steel, warm body, sharp edges, and soft skin—but you can’t think about any of that. There’s nothing beyond the feeling of him between your thighs and the anticipation of sliding onto his waiting cock. 

The head is penetrating you, just barely, but slightly more with every roll of his hips. Mando is working you open as slowly and deliciously as possible. 

“So, you did miss me,” you throw your head back, smiling and breathless.

“Yes, cyar'ika, ” he moans, rolling his hips until he sinks the rest of the way inside you, groaning with bliss. “I missed the way you taste. I missed holding you in my arms. I thought about you every day, and when Arasuum heard my prayers, you found me in my dreams.” 

Then he thrusts harder, filling you completely, making you cry out, “Aaangh!” 

Hearing you, he growls in satisfaction and rocks his hips back so he can thrust inside you again. Mando’s width and length stretches you—your cunt burns as he forces you wider to take him in. It’s a pain so sweet, it makes your mouth water, and so, you lick the only part of him that’s exposed, the rough, stubbled skin under his jaw all the way to the tip of his chin. 

The Mandalorian responds by gasping what is definitely your name this time, along with some incomprehensible words that sound a lot more like prayers than obscenities. His hands grip you tighter, and that’s the moment when the pleasure eclipses the pain. His cock feels so good inside you, blurring out everything else.

Every time, he pulls almost all the way out, then plunges in deep. You glance down to see if you can watch him sliding in and out between your thighs. But all the crumpled folds of fabric, quilted leather, and armor are in the way. You can’t see. All you can do is feel.

“And what did you do to me in these dreams?” you whisper.

“Everything,” he sighs, the modulator vibrating next to your ear. “Slowing down to take my time, and I last forever. Speeding up until I’m fucking you senseless.”

Then he thrusts, so hard you have to clutch at his neck, your fingernails digging into the thick canvas. “We can go slow and hard like this. Or do you want me to fuck you faster? Tell me what you want.”

Merely hearing those words brings you back to the brink. You’re dizzy and flushed, entirely helpless to the feeling of him moving inside you. Your voice is hardly more than a whisper as you say, “Please...please, Mando, just fuck me as hard as you can.”

His hands go to your waist and grip you tightly as he starts to pump into you, each stroke more fierce as the last. You feel his powerful abdominals flexing against you, the muscles in his thighs tensing with each brutal thrust. He speeds up, and then the only sounds are his heavy breaths, grunting, and the whimper you release with each clash of his hips.

This angle makes it harder for you to get fully stimulated, but his cock feels so good inside you, filling you completely. You cry out—one long cry you can’t control��as the blood rushes to your cunt. The sensation spirals. Soars. Desire sharpens inside you. Peaks. You feel weightless in the rush of pure ecstasy, hips circling against him as every muscle of your body surrenders to the intensity of your orgasm.

Gravity turns upside down as you clench around Mando’s cock. The climax hits you so hard that, for a moment, you worry you might pass out.

“Nnngh, yes,” he grits his teeth, "just like that," and then he’s there with you. The Mandalorian reaches down, tilting your pelvis to thrust even deeper. How is that even possible? You feel him everywhere. Then he slides in slower, once, twice—then goes totally still, as a shudder of pleasure goes through him. "Haah, haah, aah."

His head collapses against your shoulder as you both struggle to catch your breath.

“Careful,” you murmur, barely able to hear yourself over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. “You’re the only thing keeping me from collapsing and tumbling down the side of a mountain.”

Mando chuckles, the vibration of his laughter resonating against your ribs. “Was that what you wanted?” he asks, slipping a hand behind your back so you feel more secure.

“That was perfect,” you sigh. “You?”

“Perfect,” he agrees. “But next time, I’m tearing that robe off you.” 

You look down to see the neckline hanging open, with a solitary knot at your waist, holding on for dear life as the fabric gapes open over your thighs.

“I’m not sure there’s much left to do.”

Mando laughs, pinching one of the sleeves to rub the fabric between his leather fingers. “I’m glad you like it. It suits you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say appreciatively. “Thank you.”

“It’s a piece of fabric. You make it beautiful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks, and your heart begins to race again. His cock is still half hard inside you. If you moved your hips—

“I missed seeing that look in your eyes,” he says.

“What look?”

“When you flirt, you usually have this…sort of smug look on your face.” You immediately roll your eyes, which just makes him laugh. “But one compliment and you blush, and your eyes go wide with this look of…something,” he breathes out sharply. “Need, maybe. I can see in your eyes how much you want me.”

Damn, he is observant. “I’m usually the one making people blush.”

“I know, that's why it’s so satisfying.”

You place a hand lightly over his helmet, relieved when he doesn’t flinch or pull away. “Feels like an unfair advantage. How am I supposed to know how bad you want me?”

Mando cocks his head.

“Alright, fine. The hard on is a reliable indicator. But—”

“Never worry about that,” he says wryly, and you feel his cock throb, flexing inside you. “I always want you.”

The flush in your cheeks gets even hotter, and you laugh to dispel the fluster of embarrassment.

“When you were gone, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. When you’re near, all I want to do is touch you. All I ever want to do is touch you and kiss—"

He stops himself, "I—”

“It’s okay,” you sigh. “I know you can’t take off the helmet. You don’t remove your armor on the job.”

You uncross your ankles and return both feet to the ground. Mando finally slips out, and you feel warm wetness sliding down your thighs.

The Mandalorian can sense your disappointment, but you have no intention of being thwarted so easily. You wrap your arms tighter around his neck, threading your fingers so he won’t pull away. Your head rests against his chest—the Beskar plate feels cool against your flushed cheek.  

“We have time,” he says. “We haven’t even made it inside yet.”

“Actually,” you look up at him. “There's something I want to show you that's going to make you very excited.”

*********

Continue reading - Volume 4 - Post #10: Never Knew I Needed You

Back to all posts for Volume 4

[strkid]

You know what I’ll say this

IF it is that guy Luigi Mangione, and he’s not just some guy realizing he could do the funniest thing ever as soon as he saw the photos — or he’s not just some guy who kinda fit the profile and now they’re planting evidence on him etc

But IF it is that guy then I’ll say this. Center right wing people are the ones who could do this.

A deed like this one requires a certain level of individualism in your political beliefs in order to make you carry it out

As an anarchist and a communist I have unfortunately in many ways lost a lot of hope through adulthood regarding organizing collectively.

I see it as the strongest weapon but it’s incredibly difficult and exhausting and the effort is huge and long term and many of the wins feel small

Yet my despair would never be able to entirely reach the point of murdering one CEO, even though I believe in propaganda of the deed, my deed would be much more likely to be aimed at something like a weapons manufacturing plant, or an oil refinery or some other cog in the machine

However a deed like that wouldn’t fully be able to reach the masses like this did.

When most people view the world as made up of people rather than systems, a deed like this will reach everyone in a way that blowing up their offices or something wouldn’t have.

This guy took the structural and made it personal.

He reduced the CEO to his human parts. To his flesh and blood.

I think this is something that the working class can resonate with more than any type of more structural deed.

The commentary more than any other commentary, allows the cracks to surface; by this I mean:

If the guy had burned down a UHC building to the ground with no injuries to people

(Such as is often the tactics of the most extremist leftist or anarchist groups whether it’s the vegans and climate activists of the 90s or Weather Underground of the 60s)

Saying that you don’t care about an office being burned down doesn’t provoke the out of touch rich people at all as much.

They much don’t care either; to them the office is ultimately numbers- they’d be indignant and demand the “justice” system harshly punish those who destroy their sources of income �� but they wouldn’t actually care.

This deed, while perhaps not in and out of itself destroying the machine in the same sense that for example pal action does — this one is in some ways significantly scarier to at least some of the capitalists

What they’re seeing online is that the people, as soon as anyone manages to actually illustrate class tensions, are actually pretty united

When class tension becomes sufficiently visible, people are able to unite across the dividing lines and agree, wholeheartedly for the deaths of those who oppress us.

If we are lucky, the way things play out from now on will keep bringing out the sense that the capitalists too are flesh and blood just like ourselves

I hope as well that we remember this when we speak to bigots and right wingers; we have things in common. Our class interests align.

Our job as leftists is not to convert anyone to our ideology, or to our organizations.

Our main job is to get people to look up.

When in discussions about sensitive topics come up, try to aim the conversation upward.

Use their lingo. Talk about the “suits in the offices”, talk about the rich, talk about honest work

[tvckerwash]

alright so I disliked season two as a whole, but one thing that was really :/ was the demonization of hextech and the almost…anti science stance they took with it. I'm not going to get into any of the actual rhetoric or anything because that's not the point of the post and I'm not really knowledgeable enough on the topic to speak on it anyway, so yeah.

with that out of the way I want to present an idea for an alternative narrative surrounding hextech that keeps the focus on the piltover/zaun conflict, whilst incorporating more aspects of league lore into arcane that I believe season one possibly set up a foundation for.

(utc bc it's a bit long)

firstly, it’s important to recognize that hextech is more than just a new form of technology—it’s an entirely new field of scientific study. in episode five heimerdinger says that scholars from around the world have come to piltover to study the hexgates, and therefore hextech, and that its “reignited passion for the arts and science.”

jayce mentions in episode five when showing heimerdinger the hexite gemstone and demonstrating its uses alongside viktor that the unrefined crystals were too volatile to be utilized outside of their laboratories. that is laboratories, plural. jayce and viktor are the creators of hextech, yes, and they likely understand it better than anyone else, but they are not the only ones who do. he mentions these laboratories again during the council meeting following jinx’s theft: 

more importantly however, he mentions that they have a refinery, and I’ll come back to that in a moment. 

it’s arguably established in episode two that the hexite crystals are a finite energy source, as we see the rune used by the mage be depleted of its energy following the teleportation spell. in episode six we also see technicians in PPE who are for the sake of this hypothetical narrative presumably checking the state of the crystals that power the hexgates and presumably replacing them as needed. 

in league, the hexite crystals originate from shurima, and while I wouldn’t put it past piltover to continue mining for them and importing them, that is ultimately unsustainable financially and physically in the long run. so, how do they solve the problem of ensuring that they will have a constant, steady supply of these crystals that have revolutionized and revitalized their society? 

easy, in league lore the hexite used to power all of the hextech devices are synthetic versions of the originals, so I propose the idea that at some point during the time skip jayce and viktor would’ve also figured out a way to synthesize synthetic versions of those crystals.

this creates another question though, how and where do they manufacture the crystals? as the sheer size of the hexgates means they would have to do so on quite a large scale. this is where the refinery mentioned earlier come in, as in league lore, the crystals were first used by clan ferros—who also exist in the arcane universe, being mentioned in episode two by elora as house ferros: 

so, on top of the existence of synthetic crystals I propose that a version of the hexcore foundry from league also exists in the arcane universe, and it should continue to be owned and operated by house ferros. 

the hexcore foundry would fit in perfectly in arcane’s narrative as it adds to the disparity and wealth inequality between piltover and zaun. not only do zaunites not have any access to hextech and currently reap none of its benefits, they’re the ones getting smothered by the pollution the foundry creates: 

Yet there were consequences—synthetic crystal manufacturing has long been rumored to heavily contribute to the Zaun Gray. 

the existence of the foundry and the chaos following jinx's attack is also the perfect opportunity to introduce camille ferros, an intelligence operative who’s main goal is to maintain the status quo of piltover:

Weaponized to execute outside the boundaries of the law, Camille is an elegant and elite operative who ensures the Piltover machine and its Zaunite underbelly runs smoothly. Camille's true strength is her adaptability and attention to detail, viewing sloppy technique as an embarrassment that must be put to order. Raised among manners and money, she is the Principal Intelligencer of Clan Ferros, tasked with cutting down her family's darker problems with surgical precision. With a mind as sharp as the blades she bears, Camille's pursuit of superiority through hextech body augmentation has left many to wonder if she is more machine than woman. 

I think she’d make an excellent sort of antagonistic force for various characters, including ambessa, as she’d be working against any attempts by jayce, viktor, caitlyn, and vi to better the lives of zaunites, but she’d also work with all of them and mel to combat ambessa’s meddling and maintain a delicate "peace" with zaun in the name of keeping her well oiled capitalist machine running undeterred.  

back to hextech, you may have noticed that camille is augmented, and her augmentations are specifically hextech augmentations. now, these cybernetics obviously don’t exist yet in arcane, so we’d be introduced to her before she becomes a cyborg, but this is how viktor’s arc would be continued after ditching the hexcore. he could be the one to create the very first hextech cybernetics since cybernetics, robotics, automation, and side of chemistry are all kind of his whole deal as the machine herald:

The herald of a new age of technology, Viktor has devoted his life to the advancement of humankind. An idealist who seeks to lift people to a new level of understanding, he believes that only by embracing a glorious evolution of technology can humanity’s full potential be realized. With a body augmented by steel and science, Viktor is zealous in his pursuit of this bright future.

viktor creating hextech augmentations and his love of robotics being introduced also means that blitzcrank and orianna—who are both made of hextech—could’ve been easily incorporated into the series in a way more faithful to their origins (or at all in the case of blitzcrank. I can't believe they shoehorned viktor's robot child in his new bio by saying he created them off screen during the timeskip. fuck you riot games), but since this post is already somewhat long diving deeper into how those characters could’ve come to be is for another post that I may or may not make. 

[daydreaming-jessi]

“There’ve been many souls that have come and gone from the flock, some are just more memorable than others.”

Decided to doodle some cultists I’ve come up for in fics, had in my actual game, or a cool idea i came up with on the spot. Oh and Sozo and Webber are here too :D This is by no means the entirety of the cult, and there may be future followers that stand out too, but for now enjoy these guys. Feel free to ask about them I guess lmao

I will be putting down my written notes under a cut since they’re so small and scribbly ^^;

Brother Tyr, head priest, he/him: The Lamb's 3rd closest. Very stressed despite doing his job for 200 years. Tries and fails to be a peacekeeper in the cult. Tyr and Nari argue a lot.

Brother Narinder, head mortician, he/him: Don't piss him off. The Lamb's spouse. Best source of info on the crowns and outside world. Can do any job around the temple and will. When the Lamb isn't around.

Sister Merbre, temple organizer, she/her: Helob loves her. The main reason the temple runs when Lamb is gone. Has a surprising realist view. Everyone loves her. Romantic at heart.

Yeon, general worker, she/her: Has to let loose in demon form or else. Together with Julno. Friends with Narinder. Seeking absolution from her past crimes. 'Encouraged' Narinder to court Lamb.

Tyna, assistant mortician, they/them: Cult's head goth. Runs the slam poetry night. Also does piercings and tats.

Nanaon, retired missionary, she/her: One of the Lamb's most faithful. Insists she's not that old and can still work. One of the few mortals to earn the respect of both Deaths.

Firyn, farmer, he/him: A worker. Great with people and plants. Born after the fall of the Old Faith. Leshy's companion. Doesn't know the horrors yet. People tend to underestimate him.

Pura, general worker, she/they: Likes Firyn. Likes to manipulate things to her benefit. Doesn't like Leshy. Doesn't realize what being an ex-bishop means. Genuinely respects the Lamb.

Almer, refinery worker, he/him: Shamura's friend. Easy going. Wants a big family. A good confidant. Gives great hugs.

Grayden, silk sorter, they/them: Shamura's friend. Quiet but a beautiful singer. A shy pushover, but will snap.

Julno, farmer, he/him: Came with the 'coward' trait. Still scared of the Lamb, and Yeon's 'bestie' Narinder. Together with Yeon. Doesn't know her murderous urges.

Poppy, she/her: Best friends with Webber, youngest of the cult. Brave and tenacious Webber, he/them: Best friends with Poppy, youngest of the cult. Gentle and curious.

Dr. Sozonius, researcher, he/him: Amnesiac. Lamb is helping him find home. Extremely well educated about biology. Does not like the spider stalking him, or the mushroom.

Keeper, record keeper, she/him: Face is always obscured. Hates the Dark. Doesn't talk about his past. Has a strange locket that ticks. Always smells of salt.

Joobre, refinery worker/tailor, he/them: Loves working with silk. Has tea with Berith. Likes gold jewelry.

Thorty, bartender, he/him: Fights with Nari a lot. Short temper. Best with the drunks.

Bregrear, smith, he/him: Quiet. Knows his way around weapons. Old hat at this point. Hopes to retire in peace.

Harbre, smith apprentice/missionary, any pronouns: Hot tempered. Looks up to Bregrear. Married to Bathin, chases off suitors neither of them like. Longs to master their craft. Protective.

Anar, miner/lumberjack, he/him: Distrusting. Hard worker. Doesn't exactly trust the Lamb, but willing to give the cult a shot. Starts fights.

Fun-Gui, researcher assistant, they/them: Weirdly obsessed with Sozo. Self proclaims as his assistant. Other mushroomos don't like them. Always goopy and dripping.

Hajal, traitor, she/her: Left the cult. Status unknown.

[elfdragon12]

So, for my own fanfic purposes, I worked on a list of canonical locations on Cybertron. I don't know if any site has a nicely formatted list of cities/city-states, so I thought I might share this list with others. This is mostly comprehensive as I left off locations that were too specific to one continuity or too confusing and it's quite possible I missed a few places. There are some continuity specific places included I think are more flexible. Many items on this list are not expanded upon, so you can have as much fun as you want.

Either way, here's what I got in one handy (very long) list:

Regions

Tri-Torus

- Petrohex

- Polyhex

- Dodecahex

Polar States

- Iacon

- Kaon

Tri-Penninsular Torus

- Uraya

- Praxus

- Protihex

Iacon (capital)

Iacon Central

- Great Dome

- Celestial Spires

-- Celestial Temple

Academy of Science and Technology

Jan-ja

Imperial Amphitheater

Maccadam's Old Oil House

Iaconian Aerial Academy

Metroplex

Trion Square

the Undergrid

Translucentia Heights

the Senate

Xeno Quarter

Hall of Records

Observatory of Iacon

High Council Pavilions

Chamber of the Autobots

Polyhex

Darkmount

Deadend

the original Space Bridge

Polyhex Toll Plaza

a canyon

Grease pits

Nova Cronum

Praetorus Wharf

Chamber of the Ancients

center of philosophy

Protihex

Protihex Medical Mechanics University

Uraya

bigger than Praxus and Protihex

Tyger Pax

idyllic and tranquil

Rust Sea

unstable planetary matter

emits a mostly harmless corrosive gas

Hydrax Plateau

- Damaxus

Toxic Sludge Swamps

Tagan Heights

Durax

Ultirex

- technoversity

Tetrahex

responsible for 40% of industrial output

Tyrest

Jekka Amphitheater

Tyrest University

Altihex

deep space research facilities

underground energon refinery

Altihex casino

Kalis

Pax Cybertronia Decommissioning Depot

Kalis Primary Energon Reserves Control

Kaon

Kolkular

- the Cradle

space bridge

gladitorial rings

Jump Joint

Wreckage Row

mines

Kaon Prison

Kaon Plaza

Ibex

Central Spaceport

Ibex School of Epistemology

Ibex Cup racing circuit

Crystal City

Drouhard University

Refracting Gardens

Geosynchronus Energon Bridge

known for elegant construction and scientific minds

Undercity

mostly deserted

near the Red Sea

Peptex

near Rust Sea

Dodecahex

Shuttle Complex Ohm

Petrohex

Upper Petrohex

Lower Perrohex

Rust Sea tributary

Harmonex

"Singing City"

center for art and learning

Lithic singing crystals

Alyon

uninhabited

Vos

rich in energy resources

close to Tarn

Air Command Center

Stanix

Yuss

- Amprodome

- Justice Building

Fort Scyk

Acid Wastes

Proximax

Transhyperwave Caster Tower

Hyperious

defensive walls

Burthov

docks

launch site

labs and factories

"belongs" to Science Division

Petrex

"twin-mode" city

Simfur

Simfur Temple

Chamber of the Dynasty of Primes

Tarn

power plant

border fortresses

gladitorial rings

original Senate Building

The Decagon

main control center of planetary defenses

Blaster City

low class industrial region

munitions source

weapons manufacturing facility

Rad Zone

dangerous

Plasma Energy Chamber

plasma energy reservoir

Tesarus

artisans and philosophers

Helex

Power Base

gladitorial arena

Axiom Nexus

The Blue Deployer

Widow's Cafe Cybertronian

The Heap

Rodion

waterways

Maccadam's New Oil House

Deltaran Medical Facility

Nyon

Rust Narrows

Acroplex

Gygax

tunnel to Ankmor Park

Ankmor Park

as old as Quintesson supremacy

chemical processing center turned biochemical garden

Galaxxon

industrial

slagwerks

K'th Kinsere

Vaulted Heights

home to High Priests

Triax

the Nexis

Ky-Alexia

stronghold

Plurex

Plurex Flats

Emirate Xaaron Spacebridge Nexus

just outside of Iacon

Well of Allsparks

afterlife

inside the Core

Sistex

Sistex University

Staniz

ship building

Centurion

bright

Praxus

the Assembly

Helix Gardens

Slaughter City

low class industrial center

illegal gladotorial games

Border Regions

borders Iacon

Promontory

Forum of Enlightenment

Predigeon Arch

Cities with no information

Nuon

Pescus Hex

Esserlon

Monoplex

Median

Hexima State

Perihex

Praxium

Bitrex

Ultrix

Valvolux

Carpessa

Glibax

Vaporex

Ambustus Minor

Tribat

Unitrex

Tesk

Teledonia

Detrona

Landmarks

Redox River

Timonium River

Straits of Yuss

Trannis Fork River

Mithril Sea

Argon Sea

- gaseous

Sonic Canyon

The Badlands

Manganese Mountains

Cataclysm Tundra

- Athenaeum Sanctorum

Tri-Torus Loop

Tygun Span

-road between Iacon and Nova Cronum

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2024 - 16. Third Rate Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Lavender, Ilberd Feare Rating: Teen Summary: Hers was a third rate plan, too, but Zoissette wasn't about to admit that. Notes: Weird Wild West AU - A Desertwalkers story

In the canyon, a Thunderhead war airship sat, incomplete, tethered to the canyon wall, sitting low below the edge where it would be impossible to see from a distance despite its immense size. The ceruleum refinery on fire on the lip of the canyon, however, was rather more visible, and made for a dramatic backdrop for what was a not very impressive duel.

Zoissette was, despite her military background, not much of a fighter. In the military she had been an engineer. Now, she was a naturalist, which meant she could hold her own in most fights, between her field skills and various Pattern-enhanced gadgets. However, whoever she was fighting in that white Griffin mask was huge, powerful, and clearly had lived an entire life honing his martial prowess.

Weave crackled around his blade as he swung it around hard towards her midsection, and she chose to fold into it, kicking her legs to push herself back with the blow, blocking with her twin blades which hummed with deep Pattern energies of their own. Lightning and ice met, and she was thrown backwards, far backwards, flying through the air and tripping as she landed, rolling along the ground.

"Sloppy!" the man crowed. "I'll tear you limb from limb! And what will you have accomplished?"

"Oh, I would pay real pel to get him to stop talking," groused Zoissette quietly to the ground as she pushed herself up. It was hot up here, despite the night, as the free ceruleum around the refinery caught and blazed, creating a bluish inferno lighting up the night like a torch. It silhouetted the man, giving him the appearance of being much larger than life, the flames a dramatic outline as he cast a long shadow, the lighting dancing along his mask.

Zoissette came to her feet, unsteady. She knew her little one person airship was hidden behind some rocks not so far.

And also that she was running out of time.

Had to try to get him to run out of time first.

"More than you!" she yelled back. "This is a third rate plan by a two bit megalomaniac who cares not one whit for his people! A Thunderhead is more than just a weapons platform, it is a logistics nightmare! You will need fuel, water, people. And that contraption you had built? A fancy deathtrap for your soldiers!"

The fire roared, and so did his returning laughter. "Elegant, wouldn't you agree? Imagine! My people, at the height of their emotion, feeling the fire of revolutionary fervor! They'd give anything to carve out their freedom."

He slowly stalked towards her. "Even their lives. And that will be fuel enough to launch the Shinryu."

She frowned at him. The heat must be getting to him. He had gone mad. He was babbling. Fuel? Maybe if a bunch of very angry very agitated ghosts slamming into the Weave all at once bad enough to create an uncontrollable, unpredictable storm was fuel. The release of all that emotion would more likely blow out the entire Pattern assembly and-

Oh.

Oh, no.

She saw it now.

She had to get back to town. She had to warn everyone. And she still had to secure enough time for the people she had rescued and put on a rail cart to be able to make their escape.

On one side of her, the canyon edge. In front of her, this mad man and a refinery that was going to go up any moment. On her other side, open bushland all the way out to a very distant horizon. And behind her, less than a hundred meders away, her method of escape.

She could practically feel her options narrowing.

And what was taking Lavender so long?

"Oh, sod this," she said, sheathing her swords. The man stopped, tilting his head, holding his sword back, waiting to see what trick she had up her sleeve.

She drew her gun, crouched to one knee, and took careful aim.

He laughed.

"That won't do you any good!"

He was right.

Or at least, he would have been, if she had not spent the last bell sneaking around, locking cutoff valves in their open position, and disabling the flashback suppressors on the overpressure systems. The fire would've caught something eventually and triggered a chain explosion.

A carefully aimed pyros round would cause that to happen now.

The first pressure vessel exploded, and the man twisted in shock, watching as the fireball travelled upward. He turned and ran, springing for the edge of the canyon, throwing himself over the edge.

Zoissette was already in motion, sprinting for her craft. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lavender at last come zooming up from the canyon, having carried out her task, and trying to return as fast as possible.

The second pressure vessel went up, and its explosion chained into the main refinery tower.

The resulting hellfire boomed out over the landscape, a blue fireball erupting up into the sky, turning night into day for a split second. The fireball curled in on itself, smoke and molten metal and ash streaking its mushroom cap as it rose slowly, a shockwave rocketing out from it, sweeping the plain clean, thundering over the canyon. The blast took out the canyon lip, and a rockslide began, the refinery and the ground it was sitting on crumbling, falling down, pelting the Thunderhead airship with debris. The sound of metal cables being pulled tight and then snapping echoed their metallic notes, reverberating amongst canyon walls, as the airship pulled free and was set adrift.

A strange rain fell, made of dirt clumps and molten metal, twirling detritus lit with ceruleum fire, peppering the ground for a malm around.

And one elf fell to the ground with a sickening crunch, rebounded, rolling into the air, and landed again, and with a final flop at last came to rest, her would-be funeral pyre still burning behind her.

Those she had helped escape would be safe. Those who would have recaptured them would now be too busy with this industrial scale catastrophe. And the launching of the Thunderhead would surely be delayed significantly.

If only someone was left who could return to town, return to proper civilization, and warn them of what a mad man was attempting to accomplish here deep in the desert, next to a long abandoned quarry, in a canyon few dared to bother to traverse.

Gods, everything hurt.

Was it worth it, in the end?

Sloppy, indeed.

She closed her eyes.

Her breathing, labored, stilled.

Her fingers twitched.

And then, she gasped.

A terrible, ghostly energy lit around her.

Broken bones reset themselves as her limbs flailed to their correct alignment. Terrible cracking noises were made as her body stitched itself back together. Blood that had pooled under her reversed its course, seeping back into its body. Muscles reknit and her body shuddered, and she rolled over onto her back, before sitting up sharply, suddenly, as though she were spring loaded. She let out a terrible groan as she stood to her feet, and at last, opened her eyes.

Eyes which now glowed with an ethereal purple energy.

She stood there for several long moments, before looking down at herself. She briskly brushed dirt and debris off herself, and patted herself down. She tested her limbs, flexing fingers and toes, arms and legs, finishing by jogging in place for a moment and doing some experimental stretches.

Satisfied that she was in one piece, or close enough, she looked around.

"Oh, mistress," said Lavender, unhappily. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Zoissette would not be answering anytime soon.

[eretzyisrael]

By Michael Bachner

Israel’s widespread airstrikes in Iran on Saturday crippled Iran’s ability to produce long-range ballistic missiles in a blow that will be hard and time-consuming to recover from, and rendered crucial energy facilities vulnerable to future attacks by destroying air defense batteries protecting them, according to multiple reports citing Israeli, American and Iranian officials, as well as satellite images analyzed by experts.

The strikes, which Israel’s Kan public broadcaster said reflected capabilities developed over two decades, indicated much greater freedom of operation for Israeli warplanes in striking Iran if the current conflict continues to escalate, as well as a setback in Tehran’s ability to continuously fire missiles at the Jewish state, which Jerusalem apparently hopes will serve as a deterrent against further attacks on the Jewish state.

The strikes targeted sites that reportedly include the secretive Parchin base near Tehran, which was used in the past for research and development of nuclear weapons, as well as a factory that manufactures drones.The attacks on the air defenses caused “deep alarm” in Iran, The New York Times reported citing three unnamed Iranian officials — one from the country’s oil ministry — since it rendered defenseless Khuzestan Province’s Abadan oil refinery, Bandar Imam Khomeini petrochemical complex and an adjacent major port, as well as the Tange Bijar gas field in the Ilam Province.

In addition, the report said citing the Iranian officials and three Israeli officials, the strikes disabled three Russian-made S-300 air-defense systems at Tehran’s Imam Khomeini International Airport and at the Malad missile base near the capital. This is in addition to a strike in April that took out an additional battery in the Isfahan Province.

[awesome-casuallyfamouscollector]

Very good news: The Russian oil refinery in Ryazan was struck once again last night. The target is almost 480 km (300 miles) from the Ukrainian border and was struck now repeatedly within 48h. Source: (((Tendar)))

The best news is that the target was hit by Ukrainian-made weapons and Russian air defenses were unable to intercept them...

P.S. The heroic defenders of Ukraine prove every day that the chatter of Westerners about values and peace, both right, liberal and left, is pathetic B.S....

[mariacallous]

When the arsenal in Toropets detonated, the blast was so large it registered as a small earthquake and some eyewitnesses likened it to a small nuclear explosion. On the night of Sept. 17, the 107th Arsenal of the Main Missile and Artillery Directorate, a military facility about 300 miles from the Ukrainian border in the region of Tver, was struck by around 100 Ukrainian drones, destroying some of Russia’s most advanced rockets and air defense interceptors, and possibly newly arrived North Korean ballistic missiles. Three days later, another large-scale Ukrainian drone strike hit the Tikhoretsk Munitions Storage Facility in the southern Krasnodar region, a main distribution depot of Russian munitions sourced from North Korea. Well over 200 miles from Ukrainian-controlled territory, the attack resulted in another huge fireball. That same night, more drones sailed into the directorate’s 23rd Arsenal, again in Tver, igniting the facility.

In a matter of days, munitions worth hundreds of millions of dollars had been destroyed. Estonian military intelligence estimates that the bombing of the 107th Arsenal destroyed two to three months’ worth of munitions alone.

These were the latest sorties of Kyiv’s fleet of homemade unmanned aerial bombs, which over the past few months have immolated air bases, fuel depots, oil refineries and ammunition stockpiles, all of them well inside Russian territory.

Ukraine is now giving as good as it gets, hitting Russia on its own turf by land, sea and air, and prompting a new debate in Western capitals as to whether NATO allies should assist it in these deep strikes or can afford to do so without triggering nuclear war.

In August, Ukraine made a well-coordinated incursion into Kursk, the first time a foreign army had invaded sovereign Russia since World War II. Despite early Western forecasts that this operation would be swiftly and severely reversed by a Russian counterstrike, Ukrainian forces continue to hold an expanse of territory roughly the size of Los Angeles and have so far deflected from Russian efforts to dislodge them by invading from other axes. In square mileage, this surprise tactical victory eclipsed in the space of two weeks Russia’s yearlong advance in the eastern Ukrainian region of Donbas, where Moscow has committed enormous resources in manpower and artillery. According to members of the Ukrainian military interviewed by New Lines, at least some of these resources have now been redeployed to Kursk, partially fulfilling one of the stated aims of the offensive.

Though military cartographers and statisticians may assess these gains and losses as a decidedly mixed result after Kyiv’s third summer of fighting, Ukraine has also been making gains elsewhere, namely in the field of arms development. It is now manufacturing a fleet of combat and reconnaissance drones, both airborne and naval, as well as its own long-range missiles. Kyiv is using these weapons to do what Washington still refuses to allow it to do with Western equivalents: strike at Russian air bases, command-and-control hubs, logistics centers and energy infrastructure, all deep in Russia’s interior.

If the Kremlin entered the war under the “rather childish delusion that they were going to bomb everyone else, and nobody was going to bomb them,” to borrow a phrase from Sir Arthur Harris, the commander in chief of the U.K.’s Royal Air Force Bomber Command during World War II, Ukraine has spent the last months of 2024 bringing the war home to Russia and to Russians, with devastating effect. Ukrainian drone attacks have become so common that some enterprising Russian insurance companies have even started providing dedicated home insurance against drone attacks.

The only surprise is that this comes as any surprise.

During the Soviet era, Ukraine was a military-industrial powerhouse, home to the largest cargo aircraft ever built, the Antonov An-225 Mriya (the Russians destroyed it at start of the full-scale invasion), not to mention the entire line of T-64 main battle tanks and R-36M ballistic missiles, the introduction of which caused sleepless nights among Western military planners at the height of the Cold War — which is partly why NATO codenamed them “Satan.” Contemporary Ukraine has tapped into this heritage, and its engineers have gone to work again, this time to fight their former metropole and to make up for the American restriction on the use of Western artillery rockets and cruise missiles to target Russia.

According to Ukraine’s Ministry of Strategic Industries, Kyiv’s defense industrial base now commands 300,000 employees spread across 500 enterprises — four-fifths of them privately owned. Major Ukrainian public figures and charitable organizations have supported the effort by raising money and supporting the manufacture of drones.

Other Ukrainian civil society actors and volunteers have also turned hobbyist racing drones into remotely piloted, precision-guided munitions. FPV (first-person view) drones have become one of the most lethal weapons of the war — and one that Russia has copied to equal effect. Piloted by technicians stationed miles away wearing a virtual reality-style headset that captures the flight path as though they were on board, FPVs chase down soldiers on foot, on motorbikes or in armored vehicles and pound into command centers and military-occupied buildings. Recordings show everything until the moment of impact when the screen ominously turns to white noise.

So terrifying are FPVs — and so difficult to evade owing to their small size, speed and maneuverability — that Russian troops have committed suicide rather than face a grisly death from above. They’re also incredibly cheap and easy to mass produce, costing on average $300 to $500 depending on the components used. As such, these drones account for the majority of casualties on both sides, according to Lt. Gen. Oleksandr Pavlyuk, commander of Ukraine’s ground forces.

For all the domestic innovation, Ukraine insists it still needs to use foreign weapons systems to go after strategic targets in Russia. The U.K., which was the first country to supply long-range munitions to Ukraine and has been one of Kyiv’s more bullish allies in the war, has been in favor of lifting such restrictions. British Prime Minister Keir Starmer has even been lobbying European allies, such as Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, to support a proposal to allow Ukraine to use European-provided long-range weapons inside Russia without U.S. approval, Bloomberg recently reported. Other British officials were reported to be holding similar talks with their French and German counterparts.

There are growing indications that Washington is also coming around to this point of view. According to sources in the Biden administration, U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken is “fully in favor” of letting Ukraine strike back but faces resistance among those fearful of escalation with Russia, including at the National Security Council and the Pentagon. During a recent trip to Kyiv, Blinken stated that since the start of the war, the U.S. has been willing to adapt its policy as the situation on the battlefield evolves. “From day one, we have adjusted and adapted,” Blinken said after meeting Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy. “Needs have changed as the battlefield has changed, and I have no doubt that we will continue to do this.”

These adaptations, while welcome, often come too late to save Ukrainian lives. After the Russian incursion into the northeastern region of Kharkiv in 2024, U.S. restrictions preventing Ukraine from striking targets on the Russian side of the border were lifted. Had they been lifted before the incursion, a member of Ukraine’s Kraken special forces unit told New Lines during a visit to the front in May, the Russian invasion could have been prevented entirely. An unknown number of Ukrainian casualties could have been prevented, and the city of Vovchansk would not have been razed to the ground.

Telegraphing to Washington that Russia can absorb losses on its own territory without starting World War III may be why the guns of August have been firing overtime.

Apart from the Kursk operation, the end of summer has seen the successful use of Ukraine’s long-range drone program. On the night of Aug. 2, these flying bombs struck the Morozovsk air base in Rostov, approximately 165 miles from Ukrainian-controlled territory. The base’s ammunition dump housed hundreds of glide bombs, deadly air-dropped munitions that can destroy entire buildings and fighting positions in a single hit. The dump was obliterated in the Ukrainian strike, which also destroyed at least one Russian Su-34 fighter-bomber and almost certainly damaged two more, plus airfield infrastructure.

Days later, on Aug. 8, another Ukrainian drone strike targeted Lipetsk air base (250 miles from the border), a major training center for the Russian air force. The ammunition dump at the base was likewise also completely destroyed, with the other buildings at the facility suffering damage as well. Then, on Aug. 22, Ukraine’s drones bombed Marinovka air base in what was possibly the most successful strike to date, destroying at least one more Su-34 and likely destroying or heavily damaging four more aircraft. The base’s facilities suffered extreme damage, with hangars, ammunition stores and emergency vehicles all taking hits.

“No individual strike tells us that much, but it’s the growing number and mass of systems involved that are most important,” Phillips O’Brien, professor of strategic studies at the University of St Andrews, told New Lines. “If Ukraine can wage a comprehensive ranged campaign against the Russian military, it will allow it to degrade Russian production, logistics, command and control. The types of targets which usually determine the outcome of wars.”

Just the fact that Ukraine can routinely and successfully target such air bases will have an impact on Russian air force operations, according to Lt. Col. Jahara Matisek⁩, a U.S. Air Force pilot and a professor at the U.S. Naval War College, who spoke in a personal capacity. “The biggest benefit is that it is forcing the Russian air force farther away from Ukraine, which decreases Russian ability to lob missiles and bombs into Ukraine.” He explained that it would also provide Ukraine with an opportunity to establish localized air superiority, giving Ukrainian ground offensives a greater ability to mass forces and maneuver in the open without fear of being attacked from the air.

Russia will continue to struggle to defend itself against Ukrainian drones, Matisek⁩ believes, because its air defense networks were designed to fend off a large-scale NATO and U.S. attack, rather than smaller, slower drones flying from Ukraine. “Cold War assumptions about how the U.S. and NATO would attack the USSR meant that Russian air defenses are oriented in that fashion. Hence, Russia likely never designed an air defense network to defend against Ukrainian incursions.”

To ward off Ukraine’s drones, Russia has instead opted for ad hoc measures such as painting the outlines of fake aircraft on the concrete hard stands and covering real ones under dozens of old tires — not the best form of camouflage against weapons that don’t rely on visual sensors to find their targets. The most effective way Russia defends against current Ukrainian attacks, however, is to simply fly all airworthy planes away from incoming drones, something that would be entirely ineffective should supersonic long-range Army Tactical Missile Systems, known as ATACMS, be allowed to target them.

Ukraine isn’t just pounding planes on the tarmac. Deep strikes have been directed at Russia’s strategic oil infrastructure, such as refineries, depots and even export ports. For instance, on Aug. 17 Ukrainian drones targeted the Kavkaz oil depot, a large storage facility in Proletarsk, in Rostov, causing a catastrophic fire that continued to burn for over two weeks. Hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of fuel was destroyed in one night, and the Proletarsk facility will be functionally useless for the foreseeable future. (Russian authorities eventually drafted in a number of Orthodox priests in an attempt to invoke divine intervention to put out the fire — a further sign of Moscow’s fecklessness in the face of these attacks.) Less than two weeks later, on Aug. 28, Ukraine hit the Atlas oil depot, another large storage facility, also in Rostov, precipitating yet another multiday fire but not before 40% of the facility’s fuel tanks had burned to the ground. Then, on Sept. 1, a wave of Ukrainian drones struck the Moscow Refinery, located just outside the Russian capital.

An assessment by the U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency estimated that Kyiv has so far disrupted 14% of Russia’s oil refining capacity and driven up domestic fuel prices by 20%-30% as of mid-March. This might have gone down well in Washington, given the attention paid to hobbling Russia’s war-oriented economy through sanctions, but such was not the case. The Biden administration responded to Ukraine’s targeting of Russia’s energy infrastructure by expressing its displeasure, citing the risk of rising global oil prices (the implication being that this would hurt the Democrats in November’s election). Self-deterrence has been a constant in U.S. security assistance, but Ukrainians and oil industry analysts alike greeted this American grumble with bemusement. Russia’s hydrocarbons industry keeps its tanks and personnel carriers moving and is thus a viable strategic target.

As with the incursion into Kursk, the impact of these strikes is not just physical but also psychological: They make a population largely indifferent to a foreign conflict acutely aware of its domestic costs. Ukraine’s incursion into Russia has seen the largest occupation of Russian territory since World War II, and like its deep strike weaponry, has shown Russia and the world that Ukraine retains the ability to inflict significant pain on its adversary.

The arrival of even more sophisticated Ukrainian drones will likely compound the pain for the Russians. On Aug. 24, Ukraine’s Independence Day — the third such celebration since the start of the full-scale invasion that was meant to take all of three days to be decided — Zelenskyy announced the successful employment of the new Ukrainian Palyanytsia. Named for a type of bread, the Ukrainian word for which is notoriously difficult for native Russian speakers to pronounce and is thus a convenient way of ferreting out Russian spies and collaborators, the drone will produce “unpronounceable results,” according to Zelenskyy. The Palyanytsia is powered by a rocket engine, meaning it will fly far faster than Ukraine’s current, mostly propellor-driven suicide drones, giving Russian aircraft less time to scramble out of the impact zone when used against their air bases. Days later, Zelenskyy also announced the successful test of an as yet unnamed Ukrainian ballistic missile. While he did not specify the exact type, it is likely the Hrim-2, a short-range ballistic missile that has been in development for over a decade, funding for which was supposedly earmarked by Ukraine’s then-defense minister, Oleksii Reznikov, in 2023.

These new weapon systems come a year after the introduction into Ukraine’s arsenal of a land-attack version of its Neptune anti-ship missile, a munition Kyiv famously used to sink the Russian Black Sea Fleet’s flagship cruiser, the Moskva, in the first year of the war. On Aug. 22, a Neptune cruise missile destroyed a Russian ferry loaded with fuel tanks in the Kerch Strait. “While Palyanytsias and Neptunes can achieve many objectives, there are tasks that only ATACMS, Storm Shadows and other weapons from our partners can fulfill,” Zelenskyy said.

From a logical and legal perspective, there is no reason to prohibit Ukraine from using Western weaponry to strike any legal Russian military target. American artillery and cluster munitions are already killing tens of thousands of Russians inside Ukraine, and the British-French Storm Shadow/SCALP-EG cruise missile conspicuously powdered the headquarters of the Black Sea Fleet in Crimea, claimed by Moscow to be an integral part of “Russia” since 2014.

There has also been a consistent pattern of the Kremlin making exaggerated threats when a Western capability has been on the table for delivery to Ukraine, only for it to later claim, once those weapons have been delivered, that they’re insignificant or that Russian forces have already destroyed all of them. This happened with HIMARS, Abrams tanks and F-16 fighter jets.

The West needs to stop allowing the Kremlin to set the rules of the game, Timothy Snyder, a European historian and professor at Yale University, told New Lines on a recent visit to Kyiv. “It’s the same psychological mistake where you’re playing by the rules that the other side has set for you as opposed to the rules of international law, which allow for an invaded country to defend itself.”

Washington’s escalations have routinely been met by Moscow’s anticlimactic responses. Nor does Russia stand to gain anything by resorting to nuclear weapons just because the munitions destroying its air bases, command centers and logistics hubs are made in the U.S. (or the U.K. or France) instead of in Ukraine. On the contrary, even the use of a tactical nuke in Ukrainian territory would yield no advantage on the battlefield. It would, however, transform Russia into even more of a pariah state overnight, alienate its critical ally China and likely lead to nuclear proliferation in places where neither Moscow nor Beijing would desire to see it, such as Kazakhstan, Finland, Turkey, Taiwan, Japan and Australia. As has no doubt been communicated, such an escalation would be met by a NATO conventional military response that would do even greater damage to Russia than anything currently on offer from Ukrainian ATACMS or Storm Shadows. Sergei Markov, someone often used as a hard-line voice of the Russian government in the Western press, told The Washington Post recently that the White House’s eventual rescission of the deep strike restriction has already been factored in by Russia’s war planners, who consider the decision a fait accompli — this in an article about Ukraine’s serial violation of Russia’s supposed “red lines.” Tellingly, Markov made no reference to weapons of mass destruction.

[dream-in-fall]

The theory of Lesley and Maud (part two.) Horsemen of the Apocalypse (does the series speak metaphorically about modern problems?) Who owns the Crown, Scales and Sword?

It is necessary to read the first part.

Modern problems of the Tigris River: (as well as other great rivers)

1.The Tigris River plays a crucial role in agriculture and providing people with food. But in recent decades, the river has been drying up. This leads to a lot of troubles, including famine of the poor people. The horseman of the apocalypse Famine gets a tool - Scales. In his hands, the Scales are desecrated and become a symbol of unfair measure and restrictions.

2.There are a number of problems between countries that actively use the river. These problems require wise solutions and peace agreements. But unfortunately, the countries continue to exchange mutual accusations about the irrational use of the river. This does not solve the pressing problems, but only exacerbates the conflict. (In S1E2 shows a scene in Africa where War came - this is a real conflict problem concerning the Nile River and the inhabitants of Egypt and Ethiopia.) The Horseman of the Apocalypse War receives a Sword, in her hands the sword symbolizes the weapon of war.

3.Due to the drainage of rivers, there is a shortage of clean fresh water. In addition to drying out, there is the problem of direct pollution from coastal factories, oil refineries and landfills. Citizens have to use polluted water. Thousands of people suffer from poisoning every year. (Lesley visited Africa Nile River), and Des Moines in America (Mississippi River.) The horseman of the apocalypse Pollution gets the Crown. The desecrated crown is a symbol of unholy domination and control.

I write entertainment content, but these problems are real and their scale cannot be overestimated! Great rivers are dying from pollution, drying up and wasteful use!

4.So, after the three horsemen of the apocalypse have been defeated by the three virtues (three children), the divine weapons return to the deliveryman. He will return the items to the owner, but who is the owner and who gave the packages to Lesley? We know that the sword was lost and several persons including God and angels, asked Aziraphale about this sword. So the sword wasn't in heaven.

5.Okay, here's the classic Justice Tarot card:

You can see she has Scales a Sword and a Crown. Scales in its true meaning symbolizes balance and justice. The Sword is a symbol of mind and law, it is able to separate truth from lies. The Сrown is a symbol of recognized divine authority. Is God in GO "Justice"? Or is it another character?

6.I assume Lesley will give these tools to his wife. If his wife really is the prototype of the goddess of justice. A bit of history - Initially, only Scales was associated with the goddess Maat, the goddess of justice. (She was putting a feather on the scales to weigh a human heart at the posthumous trial.) As the centuries passed, she became an independent figure and received a Sword and a blindfold (a symbol of impartiality.) In medieval Europe, she received the throne, and the blindfold was replaced by a Crown.

Here's my theory. Lesley is the spirit or prototype of the Great Divine River (Tiger, Nile, Lethe or all of them) Maud is the prototype of Matelda, the priestesses who keeps knowledge and fulfills holy vows. She is probably a goddess who acting the duties of a fair judge. Lesley and Maud are neutral characters, they don't belong to heaven or hell. I really hope they will appear in the third season. And I also hope to see a court scene in the third season. (it was a long way..)