#last chancers

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Last Chancers Omnibus Cover Art by Andrea Uderzo

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Penitentiary Claimed Last Hope of Reform,” The Globe and Mail. January 22, 1938. Page 9. --- If Term Fails to Change Criminal, His Chance for Good Citizenship Slight, Magistrates Agree ---- If a term in Portsmouth Penitentiary does not reform a criminal, there is scant hope of the offender being re-established in society as a good citizen, in the opinion of two Toronto Police Magistrates.

This was set forth by Magistrates Robert J. Browne and Arthur J Tinker, yesterday afternoon, when Interviewed sa a statement of Magistrate Mckay in Hamilton yesterday. The Hamilton Magistrate, in sentencing a prisoner released from Portsmouth Penitentiary one month ago to go back and serve five years for car theft and having burglar tools, said, "Penitentiary didn't seem to do you much good."

"Some men have left the penitentiary and become fine citizens," said Magistrate Browne. "Before I send a man to the penitentiary, I study his record, unless the crime he is charged with demands a penitentiary term." He declared that youths going to the penitentiary are generally "graduates" from jails and prisons and if a term in Kingston does not reform them they drift back to a life of crime.

Magistrate Tinker said youths are sentenced to penitentiary only in extreme cases. If a youth becomes a confirmed criminal and goes back to his old haunts after being in the penitentiary there is not much hope for him going straight, the Magistrate thought.

[brummiereader]

No Son Of Mine (One Shot)

Summary: Justice had finally been served in the wake of John's death. But with all acts of violence comes consequences, one Tommy must face when his trusted friend Johnny dogs stumbles upon the now orphaned baby of the traitor and his wife he and Arthur had both murdered in cold blood all in the name or revenge. With no child of their own and Graces refusal to send him to the orphanage, Tommy begrudgingly takes the child into his care. Will Tommy ever show young Oliver the love of a father he deserves? Or will he continue to see him as nothing but a burden the heavens had cruelly punished him with?

Warnings: Language, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, angst, fluff

Authors note: A lovely reader of mine popped into my messages and kindly asked me if I could write this story for them. I'm sorry for the long delay hun, I can only blame my procrastinating brain for my tardiness. Anyway, I hope i did your prompt justice. Enjoy!

"Right, we done?" Tommy said raising a brow as he wiped the blood that had splattered onto to his crisp white evening shirt looking to his brother Arthur nodding his head in response, his chest heaving up and down as he brushed his bloody hands through his hair, both having been sidetracked from the nights festivities.

" Fucking scum" Arthur sniffed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave one last kick to the lifeless body at his feet. A cascade of events since John's death had led up to this very day, and Tommy and Arthur both simultaneously agreed without the need of words that justice had finally been served. Luca Changretta had been dead for almost a fortnight, the vendetta was over for all but the two surviving older brothers. That was until tonight when both Arthur and Tommy were unexpectedly called away to the news that Johnny dogs had found exactly who they'd been looking for. The traitor, the informer, the bastard that had given John's address to the Italians. A Peaky Blinder, one of their very own men.

" What about her?" Arthur spat a splutter of saliva laced with blood to the ground, the result of one lucky punch from the chancer that had tried his luck with the towering gangster. He'd put up a decent fight, one Arthur enjoyed watching before his patience grew thin and he pummeled his fist into him, each snap and break of his bloody face crumbling into something unrecognizable before being shot point-blank in the head. No one wanting or willing to hold him back. Not even Tommy. No forgiveness was given that dark night, only the sweet mercy met at the end of the barrel of a gun.

" Collateral" Tommy replied as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips not giving the nights events one ounce of remorse. This was for John after all.

" Collateral?" Arthur sniffed feeling a pang of guilt hit his stomach. Women and children were not to be harmed, an unspoken agreement before time in all dealings in war between men.

" Yes Arthur, fucking collateral alright?" Tommy snapped as he marched over to his brother whose eyes hadn't left those of the lifeless woman laid on the muddied ground below him " She ran into the line of fire brother. She all but killed herself" Tommy finished growing impatient with Arthur's weighing guilt. The last thing he needed was his number one soldier to be hit with a moral compass.

" Lads, we've got ourselves a wee problem" Johnny rushed over breathless as he loosened the neckerchief from the vein pumping angrily on the side of his neck. Fuck sake, Tommy thought to himself as he threw his cigarette to the ground. Things could never go smoothly, as smoothly as murder could go that was.

" What kinda problem?" Tommy replied as he and Arthur followed him into the small bedsit from the courtyard that two dead bodies had yet to be disposed of. The commotion resulting in the curiosity and twitching of the neighbours curtains, not one of them daring to or even contemplating in the slightest to inform any person of authority. Who would they go to? The police? The mere thought was laughable.

"Just a small one" Johnny replied taking two steps at a time up the rickety wooden stairs elaborating no further on what exactly had thrown a spanner into the works.

"A small problem Johnny eh? That's a big fucking problem!" Tommy ranted shaking his head as the three men entered the flat met with the sound of a newborn baby wailing in his woven bassinet, his bottom lip wobbling with each cry that furiously left his little lungs.

"Well he's small ain't he?" Johnny replied as he tilted his head looking down at the baby boy bundled in a white knitted blanket. You'd think with the the small army of children Johnny had fathered he'd be in his element. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Johnny was a natural with children, but a natural with children that had been weened, potty trained, and able enough to drive a four wheeled vehicle and shoe a horse. In basic terms, teenagers. But nonetheless wee babbies in his eyes. Newborns were all but a loud messy mystery to him.

" Jesus fucking Christ..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as his mind frantically tried to come up with a solution as to what in the hell he was going to do now.

" Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell!" Arthur bellowed as he kicked the chair beside him, the gravity of what they had just gone hitting him far more than any sin from the long list he had committed in the past. They had made a child an orphan, and Arthur's regret and new-found faith in the almighty was about to turn into a furious rage of self-inflicted guilt.

" Hey, hey!" Tommy said cupping Arthur's head in his hands in a vice grip, trying to snap him from the pit he was intent on falling in. " Johnny take the child and go start the car" Tommy said loosening his hands as Arthur's head cast down with shame at his sudden outburst. No reading of scriptures would ever be able to tame the raging fury from igniting within him at any given moment, no matter how hard he tried. " And Johnny, light a fire. Just as we did for John" Tommy finished reminding Arthur who this was for, who they were avenging.

" He won't quit!" Arthur panicked as he held the baby in the back seat of the car, fumbling with the hand stitched blanket as Tommy drove full speed down the country lane back to Arrow house were the night of meeting with dignitaries was surely over.

" He ain't a bloody chicken is he?" Johnny said as he reached over from the passengers seat taking the bundled up child into his arms. " Like this, look" Johnny added resting the baby's head on his shoulder as he silently prayed to every ancestor to take pity on him, promising them that the next child to be birthed with his last name he'd be the epitome of a modern father to.

" Shut him up Johnny!" Tommy shouted, his jaw clenched at the increased wailing in his ear, his nerves on edge by the constant reminder of the nights events he now had to deal with as he slammed his foot down on the pedal with Arrow house in sight.

"Grace!" Tommy's voice bellowed through the walls of the their house. Every guest had already left, the grand entrance cleared of tables of the most prestigious of all champagnes imported from France mere hours ago. A night of free food, free booze and music in return for them delving into their pockets. But with the host having been otherwise occupied for most of the evening it was a night wasted, one he would begrudgingly have to endure for a second time.

" Tommy..." Grace said as she hurried down the stairs pulling her ivory night gown around her as she watched Tommy pace back and forth with a cigarette hanging from his lips in the grand hallway.

" Here. You wanted a baby, now you have one" Tommy said as he took the child from Johnny's arms placing him into hers before storming off to his office and slamming the door shut, leaving his wife wide-eyed in confusion as Johnny and Arthur stood there sheepishly without a word.

" Frances, some warm cows milk and another blanket please. That will have to do until the morning" she said softly not wanting to startle the child anymore as she gently hushed his sobs away into small whimpers and sniffles. " One of you going to tell me what happened?"

It had been an hour, three whiskys, a packet of cigarettes and the rubbing of one's brow back and forth as a pounding headache settled onto his forehead since Tommy had shut himself away in his office, shutting himself away from the consequences of the night.

" Tommy?" Graces voice quietly announced as she entered the room with the newborn bundled in her arms soundly asleep as a flash of love at seeing his wife in her element softened her husband's face. Her motherly instincts that had been waiting to be freed finally being put to use after the longing for her own child.

" I've rung the orphanage" Tommy bluntly replied, the sweet moment that had captured him bitterly snatched away by no one else but himself as he stubbed out his cigarette. " They're coming first thing tomorrow to..."

" The orphanage. Tommy..." Grace interrupted him, her angered voice raising just above a whisper in response before being cut off herself.

" I won't hear anymore on it Grace. He can't stay here, that's the end of it" Tommy stood up throwing his lighter on a stack of paperwork as he rested his hands on the mahogany desk in front of him, looming over the list of numbers he had been calling as he huffed out a cloud of smoke.

" The end of it is it Thomas?" Grace scoffed as she walked forward, her eyes narrowing in on her husband with every step she took. " You made this child an orphan, he is your responsibility now. That's the end of it" she said coming to a stop in front of his desk as her husbands jaw tightened at her words.

" What about John's kids eh? They've been made orphans, hm? Grace? " He said as his wife turned her back on him as she headed for the door, Tommy's raised voice enough to startle a small whimper of cries from the baby boy now waking up from a deep slumber.

" When will it end Tommy?" Grace said as she came to a stop at the door. Tommy's relentless need for revenge against anyone who had dared to cross him leaving a string of orphans, elderly burying their own children and children burying their own parents. " A son Tommy, isn't that what you've wanted? What we've wanted?" she sighed, a deep wave of sorrow filling her heart as she looked down at the sweet child in her arms, a child she had yearned for during the unforgiving nights she had held onto her husband as tears streamed her face. Loss after loss breaking her already shattered heart.

" He'll be no son of mine"

Six years later...

" Elbows off Oliver" Grace reprimanded with a small smile of affection at the breakfast table to the child who had grown into a dimpled cheeked young boy as she rubbed her swollen stomach.

" Yes mummy" he replied kicking his legs back and forth as he wiped his cheeks from the egg soldiers he had just enjoyed as Tommy eyed him over the newspaper in his hand, reaching to caress his wife's stomach.

" He'll be here soon" Grace smiled to her husband lacing her fingers between his as she glanced over at her son that had no knowledge of who his birth parents were or the night that had brought him into their life, never wanting to or willing to send him into turmoil with the truth at such a young age "A baby brother for you Oliver " she winked to him as he grinned from ear to ear at the idea of having a sibling all whilst trying to stack the remaining pieces of toast into a strong hold that would keep the soldiers from the fiery dragon his imagination had conjured up. His attempts rendered futile when his tower of toast came crashing down onto the recently polished floors.

" Grace..." Tommy huffed folding his newspaper in half throwing it on the table in front of him, his patience easily tested with anything the small boy did that caused the slightest of inconvenience.

" Don't play with your food darling" she corrected him as Oliver's eyes darted to his father and the irritation clearly expressed in the creases of his furrowed brow. "Go clean up those buttery cheeks before I leave ok?" She smiled as the boy nodded in response while sliding off his seat only to stand on the scattered toast below him, causing a mountain of crumbs and further mess.

" You heard your mother" Tommy huffed lighting a cigarette as he looked down at the waste of food and the disorder that came with the child that had created it. " Oliver" Tommy pinched his brow as the little boy stood there doe eyed looking up at him nervously through his lashes.

" Go on" Grace smiled reassuring him as he ran to the door. " You're to harsh with him, he's scared of you" Grace said snapping her head to Tommy as he left the room.

" He doesn't listen" Tommy stated as he stood up taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched the boy through the crack of the door running up the stairs. " Stands there looking gormless whenever I tell him to do something, just like his traitor father"

" Tommy!" Grace said as she put the breakfast dishware down, crashing them onto the table in one loud clatter of knives, forks and spoons as she hurried to shut the door. " Don't ever let him hear you talk like that!"

" Well maybe he should know, eh Grace ?" Tommy said coldly stubbing his cigarette out, the pain from his brothers death never fully grieved, only ever making itself clear through the unfair coldness he showed to the child his wife had lovingly taken in all those years ago, raising him solely on her own over the watchful eye of him always standing from afar.

" You'd like that wouldn't you Tommy? Wouldn't have to keep up your facade anymore" Grace replied as she walked around the table. " Your his father, he knows no different. Just like this one" she said resting her hand on her stomach. " You're breaking his heart Tommy" she said taking his hand trying to reason with his stubbornness and the relentless friction he had undoubtedly created in the house the three of them shared. "I'm going to miss my train" she sighed as she closed her hand around his placing a tender kiss to his lips before turning to leave as Tommy followed behind her, watching from the door as she knelt down to Oliver in the entryway.

" Can't i come?" the young boy sobbed as she brushed his tears from his rosy cheeks. " Please?" he sniffed turning to see Tommy leaning against the door frame watching from afar, always from afar.

" I'm sorry darling, not this time" she replied a look of concern in her eyes about leaving him alone with Tommy, silently wishing this one time he would push his unenthusiastic demeanor aside and at least try if not for her then the little boy who thought the world of him. The same little boy with a determination that matched the very man who would brush off any attempts he made to impress him. Tommy's hate for the man that had fathered him clouding every parental instinct in his body. " I'll bring you something back" she winked giving him a hug before she fixed her hat and hesitantly turned to the door, leaving the young boy standing in the hallway sobbing as Tommy cruelly turned his back on his tears and shut the dinning room door behind him.

" Dad, Johnny, watch me!" Oliver shouted as he precariously placed one foot in front of the other climbing the large oak tree shading the evening sun on the grounds of Arrow house as Tommy and Johnny dogs watched on from the patio door. The young boy hell-bent on getting to the very top after seeing his uncle Arthur climb the very same tree two weeks earlier as he watched on in awe.

"That 'a boy!" Johnny shouted back pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he waved back. " Found 'em Tom" he turned to Tommy in a hushed voice as he leaned in. "They live up north in Yorkshire, factory workers in the local pressing center. Dirt poor, drunk ol' man that beats his wife within an inch of her life and too many mouths to feed" Johnny added as he watched Tommy's eyes following Oliver's every move.

" He's gonna fucking fall" Tommy huffed under his breath as he stood up straight, already on guard for the inevitable. He never fucking listens, why would he never listen to him?

" Tom, you listening ?" Johnny said as he pulled the address of Oliver's uncle from his pocket. " Grace will never forgive you Tom, he's her whole world" Johnny added as Tommy took the piece of crumpled paper from him, the decision to send Oliver to his family having been made after the unexpected news of Grace's pregnancy, a decision made solely by him without her knowledge. It's better she didn't know, better for him that was. And when the day did come, he'd tell her his family claimed him back. What grounds would she have to fight them? She'd be distracted with the birth of their son, she'd forget...wouldn't she?

"Dad look!" Oliver shouted trying to get his attention, determined to show him how far he could climb, how he was as fearless as any other Shelby before he misplaced his foot and came tumbling down to the ground.

"Oliver!" Tommy shouted throwing his cigarette into the grass as he and Johnny ran over in a panic. " What did I tell you eh?! What did I fucking tell you?!" Tommy shouted, all words of expected comfort and love absent from his voice as anger and frustration took over.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed looking up to his dad as Tommy removed his cap from his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at the bloody cut on his hand, every ounce of his being telling him to cradle the boy in his arms that knew nothing but him as his father.

" Ay, up you get" Johnny said helping him as he gave him a pat to his back. " Just a scratch Oliver ay? No broken bones. Nout to worry on. Ain't that right Tommy?" Johnny said in attempts to reassure the sobbing boy and Tommy who was about ready to snap again, his jaw tightened at the sight of Oliver's cheeks streamed with tears, muddy and red from the blow of the fall.

"Get inside" Tommy said placing his cap back on as he started marching back to the house, ignoring the pit of fear in his stomach at how things could have taken a turn for the worse under his watch of the boy Grace had entrusted him with. " Boys don't cry Oliver. Soldier up and wipe those tears" Tommy harshly stated as he left him and Johnny by themselves as he made his way to his office, shutting himself once again away from any more responsibility, anymore damage his presence caused.

" Come on lad" Johnny said putting his arm around him as Oliver sniffed back his tears feeling foolish that he had not only fallen but cried In front of his father, the man that never cried.

Sitting back in his leather chair Tommy rubbed the weight of the guilt that had settled on his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the night drew in, the soft hue from the crackling fire the only source of light in the blackened room he had locked himself in for the remainder of the evening. The impending birth of his child had unexpectedly thrown Tommy's thoughts into an uncomfortable disarray. Out of sight out of mind had been Tommy's only solution to the feelings that had started to arise in him that fatherhood had threatened, that fatherhood had been threatening him with for six years. Oliver was more like him than Tommy dared to admit. The child's strong will and refusal to listen one of his own cruel making. Why couldn't he love him like he already loved his unborn child? How long could he keep this up? Would he be that man, unashamedly favoring one child in front of the other? With too many questions dominating his thoughts and his wife's gentle voice absent to soothe the demons he had created for himself, Tommy did what he only knew how to do. Drink himself to the bottom of a whisky bottle. Heading up to the second floor of Arrow house with the finest bottle of Irish whisky in his hand he stopped at the top of the stairs, small whimpers and cries coming from the room at the end of the hallway capturing his attention. Oliver's room.

" Frances!" Tommy called out as he waited for the the housekeeper to deal with what he knew he couldn't. "Fuck sake" he huffed under his breath after waiting in place for someone to come before he found himself walking down the hallway to Oliver's room. There, with his knees curled up to his chest Tommy watched though the crack of the door as Oliver rubbed his hand back and forth over the bandage wrapped tightly around his injured wrist, his small frame illuminated by the cast of the gentle moonlight shining through his bedroom window. Running his hand down his face Tommy opened the door as Oliver quickly turned around pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Oliver?" Tommy questioned placing the bottle of whisky on the side cabinet as he walked over. " Why aren't you asleep?" Tommy said more bluntly than he intended to as he stood by the bed, feeling a wave of unease wash over him as he noted the small blanket Oliver was clutching onto. The very same blanket he was wrapped in the night they had found him. Grace had kept it, something he would have known if he had ever sat and read him a bedtime story, if he had ever woke in the night to hush the nightmares away from his worried mind, if he had ever even entered his room in all of the six years he had lived under his roof." Let me see" Tommy said in a gentler tone as he sat beside him on the bed. " Oliver let me see" he said when no response came from the whimpers the small child was trying to stifle. Boys don't cry. " Please?" Tommy sighed resting his hand on the child's back as his head fell into his other, the guilt of six year of taking the life of his parents settling on his shoulders pushing him further into his elbow digging into his leg as his head grew heavy with regret. Sniffling, Oliver turned around with his hand out as Tommy cradled it gently in his own, the difference in size causing Tommy's throat to go dry. The hate for his father's betrayal that of a grown mans doing, not this young boys that Tommy had cruelly burdened him with for six years " First of many battle wounds eh?" Tommy smiled to the young boy as Oliver's face stayed unchanged, unresponsive to Tommy trying to ease his worry. Had he done this? Made the child is his care so frightened of him he couldn't even a coax a smile from him?

" Soldiers don't cry" Oliver said pulling his hand away, his bottom lip turning down at the thought he wasn't as strong as his father, a soldier like him.

" They do Oliver" Tommy said as his brows knitted together at the thought that young Oliver had taken his words to heart. What else had Tommy said in the past six years, what else had he unknowingly taught him?

" You said boys..."

" And I shouldn't have " Tommy answered before he could finish as the boy wiped his tears from his youthful cheeks whilst a small silence filled the room, the strain from their relationship left empty with nothing further to say as Tommy desperately tried to search for the comforting words he knew Oliver needed to hear. " You want your mum don't you?" Tommy said swallowing harshly as he turned his head to the rays of moonlight cast on the wooden floor " I'm sorry Oliver, I'm..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as he clasped his hand around the child's shoulder. "... I'm not very good at this. You gotta help me out here. Will you help me?" he said as he gently squeezed his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth as the barriers Tommy had kept up started to fall around him as he desperately scrambled to gain back the wasted years he had been adored, loved unconditionally, a love he had never once reciprocated . " Get some rest" Tommy sighed patting Oliver's shoulder, his plea for help left unanswered as he stood up when a small hand grabbed hold of him.

" Tell me a story, please?" Oliver asked as he sat up in his bed looking up to the man he had always looked up to, always waiting for an ounce of affection.

" That what your mum does eh?" Tommy replied as he sat back down, adjusting the covers lovingly around the boy, if not a little overly enthusiastically as Oliver was now in a tight cocoon of covers and blankets with his arms securely fastened by his sides. " A story..." Tommy mused aloud, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as his brain mulled over all the potential tales that could see him sleeping in the guest room for an undefined amount of time if Grace ever found out, when the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile you would think had never seen the light of day let alone witnessed by anyone but himself. Arthur had made him swear in blood to never mention the day his gangly legs had gotten in his way causing him to fall from would could have been the very same tree Oliver had fell from earlier that day in attempts impress a girl three decades ago. " Arthur made me swear never to tell anyone, but you won't tell him I told you, right? Tommy said as the boy nodded his head, understanding the severity of pinky swears and the fate of death if you ever spilled.

" Cross my heart" he nodded with all the seriousness he could muster as his little face twisted into a stern expression, a worthy match to Tommy's own infamous pout. He was a Shelby after all, Tommy thought to himself as his heart suddenly filled with pride.

" That's my boy" Tommy said as he turned to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Oliver nestled into his side " My son eh? Tommy nudged him into his body as the boys eyes beamed up at his father's loving gaze. "My son..."

[drakeanddice]

Finished the season of Mausritter last night. Everyone survived the Battle of Big Stump, but we lost some allies along the way. The Last Chancers (the old glory-hound regiment from Fox Cross) were wiped out almost to a mouse. The AutoMice leader and command structure was taken prisoner for later experimentation by the City Mice. The walls of Big Stump were burnt to a near ruin and the spirit of the Stump (a strange fey abomination sealed away in the dead tree) is stirring. Worse, Fennel's plan to assassinate the Cat Queen Azura did not come to fruition; his poisoned arrow hit, but failed to affect her to the extent that was planned and the follow up shot posed a difficult choice. "Whoever you shoot next will die. Do you kill the Cat Queen or the Marauder Rat?" And Fennel decided that it was better to assure the end of Clooney Splitjaw. So down he went.

We got a neat medals at the end of Star Wars scene following the battle with the assembled survivors of the army that the Wayfinders led to victory. Azura leaned in to each in turn as she settled medals over their necks.

"Birch, valorous marshal and captain by blood and toil of the battlefield, wear your rank with pride. We name you First Sword of the Stump. May tales of your valiant heart echo, and may we requite your love one hundred fold."

"Bindi, flame of innovation, burning when all hope fades. We have seen your leadership among those with no stomach to fight. Urchins became an army. The gates burnt but never fell. We name you Firebrand. What is burnt may sprout anew. May we never forget."

"Fennel. Archer, rootwalker. The next time you draw a treacherous shaft, steady your hand, and DO. NOT. MISS."

Smash cut to credits.

Next week we decide on whether to switch over to Beyond the Wall or Slugblaster for our between seasons interlude. Either way, it's going to be weird teens getting into situations and I'm stoked.

[mariacallous]

Well, if you’re just joining us, the nation has delivered an all-night victim impact statement. Labour has won a landslide and the Conservatives have suffered their worst ever general election result. Keir Starmer – the prime minister – has promised “national renewal … to fight until you believe again”. Liz Truss has failed to save South West Norfolk, let alone “the west”. That is the big picture (if not the whole picture, with turnout and Labour’s vote share notably low). Meanwhile, it’s incredible to think that only a short while ago we thought we’d eradicated measles and Nigel Farage. Both have now been brought back, largely by the same people.

But look, after the 3am to 7am shift, no one will be able to say the right doesn’t do comedy. There were moments worthy of entire Netflix specials as in sports halls and community centres various Dickensian grotesques were ushered into their Christmas future, live on stage. Alas, it was going to take more than buying the Cratchits a turkey to get out of this one. Jacob Rees-Mogg heard his fate standing next to a candidate wearing a baked bean balaclava. He’ll be crying into Nanny’s starched bosom today. Committed sewage apologist Thérèse Coffey was pumped into the sea in Suffolk Coastal. Andrea Jenkyns had the middle finger given to her by the voters of Morley and Outwood. In Welwyn Hatfield, Grant Shapps chanted “supermajority” five times into the mirror, and then it came for him.

Then again, Michael Portillo losing his seat was supposedly 1997’s big moment. So perhaps the question is: in two years’ time, which current hate figure will be presenting a cosy travelogue on Europe’s most picturesque illegal migration routes? Alternatively, do remember that one person’s onstage humiliation is another person’s milk round for directorships in the arms trade.

Speaking of absolute weapons, hat twat George Galloway wimped out of his own count in Rochdale, presumably out of fatigability. He lost to Labour. There was jubilation for the Lib Dems, who finished not a million miles behind “the natural party of government”, and for the Greens, who won all four of their target seats. The SNP can now squeeze its MPs round the flip-down dining table of a motorhome. Referendum arguments may move to Northern Ireland, with Sinn Féin now that nation’s largest Westminster party.

As for Reform … Farage won in Clacton, a constituency for which he will now have to hold surgeries, presumably by Zoom link from his hot desk in the US presidential colon. Or as he put it in his victory speech: “This is the first steps of something that is going to stun all of you” – at least confirming his political abattoir will be bolt-gunning its victims unconscious first. Farage is the horror version of Inside Out, where Mendacity is only just holding off Racism at the control console. His cultural hinterland extends to a single Goodbye, Mr Chips DVD he got free with the Sunday Times in 2008, and the idea that this hollow chancer should still be one of the most significant politicians of the age says everything about the age.

Anyway, back to the Conservatives’ four-hour in-memoriam reel. Penny Mordaunt, Jonathan Gullis, Michael Fabricant, Gillian Keegan, Steve Baker, Alex Chalk, Johnny Mercer, Michelle Donelan, Victoria Prentis, Liam Fox, Mark Harper … all out, along with many more. So many cabinet ministers fell that the ones who live may actually develop survivor guilt. It’s currently unclear how gruesome things will be among the extant Conservatives in this post-apocalyptic world. As a fictional president once wondered of Dr Strangelove, will the living not end up envying the dead? Far from it, Strangelove reassures him, forcing down an involuntary Nazi salute. What will abound is a spirit of bold curiosity for the adventure ahead!

Speaking of which, 13th fairy Suella Braverman finally turned up, holding on in Fareham and cooing: “I am sorry that my party didn’t listen to you. The Conservative party has let you down.” Expect to see her humbly attempting to disembowel fellow survivors Jeremy Hunt and James Cleverly in the forthcoming trial-by-combat for what convention demands we style as “the soul of the Conservative party”.

At his count, Rishi Sunak explained he’d already conceded the election in a congratulatory call to Keir Starmer, adding, “I take responsibility for the loss.” In Downing Street, he confirmed he would be standing down as Tory leader in some sort of due course, stressing, “I have heard your anger.” Then, instead of yet another speech straight from the Tortured Prime Minister’s Department, this one offered humility and magnanimity, as well as a pointed reminder of the positive (and fragile?) progress that saw him become the UK’s first British-Asian prime minister. What a contrast to the relentless negativity of his past six weeks. Sunak’s campaign was conducted like a gender-reveal party where the device that’s meant to release the puff of blue smoke accidentally functions as a pipe bomb and burns the house down.

It also closed out several years of mindboggling chaos, dysfunction and national decline. They won’t be playing anything from this album on the Conservative party’s Eras tour. The Tories have cycled through five prime ministers over the past eight years, to the point where they were recently found going through the rubbish, pulling the first guy back out, thinking, “Actually, he doesn’t look half bad now,” and making him foreign secretary. This is the behaviour of addicts.

Not that they have the monopoly on erraticism. Any dispassionate view of these results suggests the fabled post-Brexit “realignment” is more of a dealignment – the huge sweeping gains of this or that political moment able to be reversed in previously unthinkable timespans. Volatility might now be our defining electoral characteristic, and a rise in sectarian politics cannot and should not be ignored. Because hey – what’s the worst that can happen with that one? Meanwhile, many people who derided the simplistic “Get Brexit done” slogan in 2019 have pretended not to notice that the winner here went out under the even more gnomic banner of “Change”.

Yet in the wider global context, what a win. One summer evening in 1914, the foreign secretary, Edward Grey, famously remarked: “The lamps are going out all over Europe.” In our own times, a darkening has recently felt at hand, as hard- or extreme-right parties have gained ground across the continent, to say nothing of the US. But here – in this country, in this moment – a different direction has been taken. That matters today, and anyone not on the wingnut fringes, who hopes to avoid those gathering shadows, should wish Keir Starmer good luck with his task. For plenty who would snuff out the lamps are also rising – increasingly, they walk among us.

[taudad]

Which T'au authors from Black Library would you recommend?

I only really know about Phil Kelley and everyone only mentiona him as a bad writer (even tho I am personally mostly enjoying my current reading of Farsight: Crisis of Faith)...

Thank you for asking! I’m only dipping my own toes into the Black Library myself, but I do have a few recommendations regardless

Despite aspects of Phil Kelley’s writing, I did actually really enjoy the Shadowsun book. You can see my post about it here: https://www.tumblr.com/taudad/745116246289334272/so-im-reading-shadowsun-by-phil-kelly-right-now

This other recommendation is pretty old, but it stuck with me from way back when. The second book of the Last Chancers series (Kill Team, I think was its name) by Gav Thorpe is from the perspective of a Guard Penal legion posing as Gue’vesas on a mission to infiltrate and assassinate a T’au commander and it was a real fun read, I’d highly recommend that one

For other books here’s a list I intend to work through myself from the T’au Reddit page: https://www.reddit.com/r/Tau40K/comments/12hq1mg/tau_reading_list/?rdt=33501

If you end up reading any of these please come back with your thoughts! I’m always looking to read more T’au myself

[randomdork-artdump]

"Well, well. So you've made it here at last, Second Chancers."

"Don't you think making me wait a hundred years was a bit… indulgent?"

---

Based on the fic, Carry Me From These Walls, by @ofstormsandfire and @illusion-of-death

[dailykillermoth]

✨✨✨ ultimate batman loser tournament ✨✨✨

here are our lovely contenders for the best (worst?) d-list batman villain <3

each vote will last 24 hrs & results will be regularly posted below ⬇️

♡ ROUND ONE : Clock King VS. Orca - WINNER [CLOCK KING]

♡ ROUND TWO : Chancer VS. Ratcatcher - WINNER [RATCATCHER]

♡ ROUND THREE: Killer Moth VS. Copperhead - WINNER [KILLER MOTH]

♡ ROUND FOUR: Cavalier VS. Calendar Man - WINNER [CALENDAR MAN]

♡ ROUND FIVE: Firefly VS. Flamingo - WINNER [FIREFLY]

♡ ROUND SIX: Kite Man VS. Magpie - WINNER [KITE MAN]

♡ ROUND SEVEN: The Eraser VS. Condiment King - WINNER [THE ERASER]

♡ ROUND EIGHT: Polka-Dot Man VS. Professor Pyg - WINNER [POLKA-DOT MAN]

QUARTER FINALS START !

♡ ROUND NINE: Clock King VS. Ratcatcher - WINNER [RATCATCHER]

♡ ROUND TEN: Killer Moth VS. Calendar Man - WINNER [KILLER MOTH]

♡ ROUND ELEVEN: Firefly VS. Kite Man - WINNER [FIREFLY]

♡ ROUND TWELVE: The Eraser VS. Polka-Dot Man - WINNER [POLKA-DOT MAN]

SEMI FINALS START !

♡ ROUND THIRTEEN: Killer Moth VS. Ratcatcher - WINNER [KILLER MOTH]

♡ ROUND FOURTEEN: Firefly VS. Polka-Dot Man - WINNER [FIREFLY]

FINAL ROUND !

♡ FINAL VOTE: Killer Moth VS. Firefly - WINNER [KILLER MOTH]

[bobattef]

BADBATCH FIC

Working a shift @ 79’s

There was nothing special about you.

You were just an ordinary civilian, trying to earn a decent living in an ever growing and ever changing world.

There could have been worse places to be of residence than the planet Coruscant of course but that didn’t stop a few chancers in the bar of 79’s where you worked.

Some punters were a little too hands on for your liking, both with your body and your tills as one too many times your boss would take a chunk out of your tips to cover what was lost from the nights takings.

Tonight was no different…

You already had a guard escort a couple of drunkards from the premises for not taking no as an answer from one of your colleagues.

Being mostly a bar for the clones to unwind in, you still had a few other travellers from across the galaxy.

You knew a good amount by their names now and would greet them as such.

That’s when you saw them, more so him.

A clone of course but this one was different. His whole crew was but he stood out to you.

Dressed in an armour made up of mostly black and red. With a striking red bandana across his head, holding in place those beautiful dark curls of his, much different to the short buzz cut the other troopers would sport.

You could see it was an experienced clone as such as you ran your eyes over the many scratches and scorch marks across their chest plate, watching it rise and fall as they took their breaths.

The clearing of your colleagues throat brings you back from your thoughts.

“Looks like we’ve gota couple of newbies”

She nudges you in the ribs slightly as she slaunters over to them.

Another customer hollers you from across the bar as you sigh out, you wanted to get a closer look at this new guy but you grin and bear it as you start to take the order from them.

Time had passed like it normally would.

You had gathered quite a few credits in tips tonight being so busy.

You were just counting them casually as you stood by the bar, waiting for another customer to call you for an order to be poured by the droid working behind it.

The familiar whistling from your boss almost causes you to freeze as he comes stalking over, his eyes on the little wad of credits that you quickly stuff into your apron.

“Doing well tonight darling?”

You nod politely as the pet name he uses almost causes you to shudder.

He doesn’t hide the fact that he drops his gaze down to your chest and then back up again. The shirts he made all his waitresses wear were always on the small side.

“You know… I’m pretty sure the tills were down last night”

He says to you as he clicks his tongue.

“Really?”

You sigh out, knowing what was coming next.

“Mmmhmmm”

He smirks at you.

“By about…oh, 20 credits”

His answer causes you to furrow your eyebrows at him.

That was just the number you had gotten to when you were counting your tips.

“20 credits? How??”

You ask him knowing it was a lie.

“Don’t ask me love-ee, it is what it is”

You stare at him a little too hard as you finally give in and open the zipper on your apron again.

Making sure you sigh out very loudly when you handed your earned tips over to him.

“You’re so good here”

He chuckles as he slinks away, looking for his next target.

You could feel the adrenaline start to pump through your veins as the anger from the exchange with your sleazy boss replays through your head.

You feel your heart almost hit your chest as you hear the blood roaring in your ears.

You turn on your heels a little too quickly to storm off into the bathroom to calm down but as you do, you feel like you hit a brick wall.

Slamming face first into the cold metal armour of that clone you were checking out from earlier on.

“Ow!!”

You curse out as you pull your hand to your face, both in embarrassment and pain.

“Sorry, I..er.. didn’t expect you to move so fast”

You feel a slight pang of guilt at your outburst.

It wasn’t his fault you were in a huff.

“No, no I’m sorry! I wasn’t mad at you, it’s just…”

You trail off before you bore this poor clone with your rants of your boss.

“What can I..what can I get you?”

You go back into server mode as you pull your data pad and e-pen from your pocket.

“Oh er..we have a table server”

He sounded awkward as he spoke to you.

“Oh…course”

You tried not to show your disappointment at the fact your colleague beat you to it tonight.

“I was just coming to see if..you, well..”

You tilt your head at him as he was clearly finding something difficult to say.

Your eyes find his own as you mentally note he has the exact same colour as the rest of the clones you had met.

Albeit half his face was covered in a tattoo of some sort.

You must of completely zoned out whilst checking him out as your brain practically shouts at you for being so quiet.

“Sorry…?”

You feel your cheeks heat slightly in embarrassment as you didn’t want to come across as rude to him.

“Your…nose? It’s bleeding”

He pulls a face as your eyes widen, wiping your nose with the back of your hand now, sure enough, a smear of blood trialed across the skin.

“Dank Ferrick!”

You huff, almost pushing past the dark haired clone and into the bathroom stalls.

You quickly grab some paper towels to dab your bloodied nose with whilst you stare into your reflection, noting just how red your face had turned.

“What a mess!”

You think to your self as you fold over the dampened tissue now and press it against your nose once more.

You weren’t sure how long you were in the bathroom for but your colleague comes storming in now.

“That absolute nerf herder!!”

She spits as she kicks the small trash can in the corner.

You sigh out, knowing exactly who she must be cursing about.

The sound causes her to look up at you as she notices your bloodied nose.

“Oh…what happened??”

She tries to hold in her laughter and sound concerned with you but you rolling your eyes causes her to lose her demure.

“You know that clone squad you’re serving on tonight?”

Your voice sounded muffled as you were holding onto the bridge of your nose to stem the bleeding.

“Yes…”

She sighs out in victory she remembers she snagged them from you.

“Well I just ran into one of them.. literally”

You throw her a look as she full on laughs out loud.

“Which one?”

She asks as she slows her giggles.

“Er the er one with the tattoo”

You shrug, acting as if you weren’t taking in every detail of the clones face all night.

“The tattoo?”

Your colleague sighs out sarcastically, most clones had tattoos. They wanted to gain some sort of identity for themselves.

“The face tattoo”

You look back into the mirror now, knowing your cheeks will heat again thinking of him.

“Aaah…”

She nods as a smirk flashes across her face.

“Hunter?”

She raises her eyebrows for you to confirm but you hadn’t known his name, any of their names.

“I don’t know”

You furrow your own eyebrows at her now.

“Yeah Hunter…the one with the curly black hair, bandana? And half face tat?”

She pushes, knowing you knew all of that stuff.

“Funny you should mention him cause”

You watch her through the reflection in the mirror as she gets cut off by another person entering the bathroom now.

You both smile awkwardly at them as they stare at your bloodied face before they disappear into a cubicle.

“Funny why?”

You try to get her to continue.

“Because… he was asking about you”

She smirked as she folded her arms across her chest now whilst winking at you.

You looked at her for a while longer, wondering why she’d make up something like that.

Why would the clone be asking about you?

“Wha…what did he say?”

You stutter slightly as she lets out a chuckle.

“Go back out there and find out”

She tells you slapping you across your back before heading back out into the bar area.

“You can’t say that!”

You shout after her but she laughs again as she disappears through the crowd.

You’ve managed to stop the last few drops of blood falling from your nose now so you feel safe to return to the floor.

You thought about what your colleague had said, should you approach the clone? But what would you say? What if she was just trying to wind you up and made it up about him asking for you?

You straighten out your shirt and apron as you head back over to the bar now, choosing to just ignore what she said and carry on serving your tables but you see the clone, Hunter now you know his name, still stood where you had left him.

“Hey”

He smiled as you approached him, you couldn’t help but smile back.

“How’s your er…”

He trailed off as he pointed at your face.

“Ha! Fine now thanks”

You answer, willing yourself not to get embarrassed again.

“I’m sorry”

He blurted out as you look up at him confused.

“I honestly didn’t expect you to…”

He went to continue his apology to you but you hold a hand up to stop him.

“No don’t be daft!”

You let out a nervous laugh.

“It was my fault, I was… annoyed and went to stomp off but didn’t check my surroundings”

You try to talk in the same language the other clones often spoke like.

Like military personnel.

“Ah”

Hunter says realising.

“The exchange with your boss?”

He tilts his head at you as you nod, trying not to get annoyed again.

“He does it all the time…the tips I mean, I should be used to it by now but…”

You huff out as you look at the floor now.

“I’ve worked with him before”

Hunter sounded sympathetic.

“He’s a con man unfortunately”

“Tell me about it!”

You roll your eyes.

“Want me to have a word?”

He tells you as you laugh out loud.

Hunter does too, pretending that it was a joke.

“Excuse me…Miss!”

A customer from one of your tables tries to get your attention.

“Sorry I er…”

You fumble again as you look up towards Hunter, he was stood so close to you now, almost towering over you.

“…I better be getting back to er…”

You manage to get out as he continues to look into your eyes.

You almost can’t pull away from his gaze as you suddenly feel your heart beat flutter, at the same time Hunter lets out a chuckle.

“You got work to do”

He says to you as you nod.

You have to clear your throat as you turn away from him, suddenly in need of some water.

You weren’t able to catch the way he grins as you walk away, not realising you were holding a breath until you exhale out when taking the order of your customer.

You had no idea why tonight was so busy.

Was it even busier than normal?

Or was it the fact you were wishing on a spare minute or two to catch up with the bad batch clone.

You had managed to find out the name of their battalion from passing by your colleague a few times at the bar.

You kept stealing long looks with him as you passed from one side to the other whilst serving your customers.

Glancing up at the large time dial as you noted it wasn’t long until your shift would end. But then that would mean the bar closing and Hunter would be leaving alongside his fellow clones.

You had your head buried in your data pad as you sensed another customer taking a seat at one of the tables inside your area tonight.

“What will it be? We have a specials menu if you’d like to take a look”

You start to reel off your usual choice of words when greeting a new customer but a low chuckle fills your ears instead.

You look up confirming your thoughts.

It was Hunter.

Sat alone now as you glance over to where he was before, his fellow crew members still seated and being served by your colleague.

“What are you…”

You go to ask what he was doing over here but he cuts you off.

“If you can’t come over to me, I’ll come over to you”

He tells you like it was obvious.

You laugh as he watches the way your smile meets your eyes.

“You do know I’m going to have to open up a new tab right? Of your own?”

You tilt your head at him, knowing his previous tab was racking up nicely as his crew (and the few others they were meeting with tonight) were making their way through your drinks menu rather quickly.

“I do”

He nods as he pulls a few credits out of his back pocket.

You roll your eyes, knowing it’s just enough for one bottle of the ale you noted he was drinking before.

“I’ll be right on it”

You smile at him as you take the credits and walk over to the bar now, grabbing the bottle yourself rather than waiting on the droid to do it, seeing as it was only the one drink.

You make your way back round to the other side of the bar, your eyes still on Hunter’s as he couldn’t remove his gaze from you but you’re suddenly stopped quite abruptly by your boss stood in front of you.

“You working on the bar too tonight darling?”

His words almost slither out his mouth as you gulp down your feelings of unease.

“No just…just need one drink so”

You shrug at him as he doesn’t maintain eye contact with you.

“Hmmm…just the one bottle?”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Yup”

You tell him, trying not to look over at Hunter in case your boss tells you it’s a waste of time to wait on a singular customer.

He takes no time at all to work out who you weren’t trying to look at as he tips his head down towards you now.

“The defective clone?”

He almost sneers but you flare your nostrils at his remark.

Defective?? What did he mean by that.

“They’re bad news ya know! Turn on ya very quickly”

He scoffs as you look past him and land your gaze on Hunter now.

He was staring straight back at you.

His one hand was balled into a fist as you noted his other was hovering over his blaster holder that was attached at his hip.

You furrow your eyebrows at his stance.

How could he possibly hear what your laser brain of a boss was saying to you.

“How about I take a few notches off your wage tonight?”

Your bosses words bringing you back into the conversation.

“What…what for?”

You sounded genuinely confused at his comments.

“For wasting time on lone rangers and ignoring where the money is!…the groups!”

You stare at him as if he was talking another language.

Was he really thinking about deducting some of your wages just for grabbing a bottle of ale for your one customer?

“You can’t be kriffing serious??”

You snap as your raised voice causes a few of the punters sat closest to you to look over.

“Oh…I’m being deadly serious”

Your boss leans close to your face now.

The smug look on his face as he was inches away from your own now snaps something inside of you.

You had put up with his bs for a few weeks now.

This job wasn’t perfect but it helped you get your own apartment and make a few new friends after your previous relationship fell flat and you were all alone.

This guy had to be the slimiest boss you’ve ever worked for, constantly making remarks about your appearance, never shying away from the fact that he checks you out all the time. He took your tips, that you earned fair and square most nights and now he’s on about taking your pay cheque all because you were serving one customer.

You’re not sure what you were thinking but it wasn’t clearly as you finally lose your patience with him.

Ripping off your apron now you scrunch it into some sort of ball of fabric as you launch it as his face. It hits him straight on as he calls out in pain, the last few credits in tips you had sitting inside the zipper clanging against his face.

Almost everyone inside the bar turns to see what the commotion was at you shout in his face that you quit.

“Don’t you dare!”

Your boss hisses as he grabs you by the wrist but Hunter is right next to you within seconds.

Removing the hold your boss had on you rather quickly as you noticed how much taller he was than you now, stood so close to you.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you”

His voice sounded velvety as you realised he was sticking up for you.

“This doesn’t concern you…clone”

Your boss says between gritted teeth as he rubs his face.

“Yes…it does”

Hunter says back as your eyes widen in surprise.

“You’re making a mistake”

Your boss hisses as he watches the other 4 members of Hunter’s crew walk over to you now.

“Get out of my bar!”

Your boss shouts as Hunter raises an eyebrow.

“All of you!”

He gestures to the rest of them as they had stood behind you now.

“You’re not welcome here anymore”

He tells the bar as no one reacts to his words.

“Oh trust me, we won’t be back”

Hunter sounded surprisingly calm despite he was holding back throwing a punch to this guy.

“And neither will she…”

He says nodding towards you.

Your heart skips a little, no one’s ever protected you like Hunter is doing so now, and you’ve only met him tonight.

“And I”ll have my tips back too!”

You add in as Hunter seems impressed at you speaking up.

“Ha!”

Your boss splutters a laugh.

“Over my dead body!”

He tries to stare you down as a voice comes from behind you now.

“That can be arranged”

The larger member of the batch laughs almost.

Your boss looks from you to the faces of the other clones as he quickly realises he was about to have his ass handed to him.

He puts his hands up in surrender as he pulls the bag he has slung over his shoulder round to the front.

Unzipping it slowly as to not startle anyone who had their hands on their blasters, he pulls out a huge wad of credits now.

Your eyes light up as he hands them all over to Hunter.

It was a lot more than the 20 credits he took from earlier on tonight but you weren’t going to complain.

“Happy?”

He snaps as he watches Hunter pass the wad of credits to you now. You hesitate but then bring them up to your chest.

Nobody says another word as Hunter is the first to lead the others out now, not before grabbing your hand and pulling you with him.

You shoot a glance back at your work colleague stood with her mouth wide open at what just happened.

You weren’t exactly friends as she was always trying to steal customers from you but you had always been civilised in the competitiveness.

Still, you weren’t sad to walk away from her.

You gather outside the front doors, stood awkwardly as Hunter still had a hold of your hand. The other clones he was with were looking at you.

“Oh er, here…”

You tell the one with glasses on as you hand him the wad of credits, he looked like the more important one but also, he had a satchel attached to him.

“Tech”

Hunter called his fellow bad batch member who had his face inside his data pad.

“Oh? I do apologise..”

He straightens up his googles as he talks.

“I was just adding the name of this establishment to our long list of bars and clubs I have saved, places that we are banned from so-to-say”

He tells as you laugh a little too hard. Was he being serious?

“Those are your credits”

Hunter tells you as he smiles at your awkward laughter.

“Well, 20 of them yes but the rest…”

You go to separate 20 away from the other slates but he stops you.

“Nope, all yours”

He smiles at you whilst the moody clone stood next to you both, sighs out loud.

“Haha!”

The larger one hits the back of him now after seeing his reaction.

“Crosshair was hoping for another drink!”

He bellows.

“We still can?”

You nod at him, feeling bad for getting them kicked out.

“I don’t think so”

Tech pipes up.

“That was the last standing bar in the whole city that we hadn’t been banned from previously”

[freshie44]

SPOILER ALERT Cut Off - Hopefully. Lets talk about the latest happenings

Bias Tier - Who I predict are the final 3

Aiden: Besides Tess who you could argue up here if you want, has the most story potential in Cyan, at least in my opinion. I predict we'll see some plays come merge as besides Tess and Tom, Aiden going to need some allies and I think there are some interesting angles you can go here. Alec: The finals need a villainous rep, and besides a full heel turn Jake I think few will fight off Alec's grip on that spot. As 3 of the people in the alliance are write-offs in the slot and I think Ellie digging her own grave with her moves this episode, so unless Fiore can convince Alec to lay on the sword I think he is the one. Ashely: Taking a risk on this one and this could blow up in my face as did my last pic for this bias tier. But I think the development with Ally shows that Ashley could play the game well to move from the Jake alliance to other circles of influence and that could just land her into the finals.

Drama Duo We are going to finally use this development and have them talk right? we aren't going to drag this out, right? Not Safe, But Not in Trouble Tess: Sitting pretty as the tiebreaker, absolutely making merge and from there we'll see.

Fiore: This one a risk, I'll admit. Fiore is absolutely not in a safe spot if Magenta loses. But would they really not have that verbal "closure" for her and Alec right? I think she reaching merge but only that. In Danger Ellie: Yeah funny seeing that dig at Jake but it not going win her any points and I think she is in trouble if Cyan loses the next elimination challenge. Especially if the truth of her plan is revealed Ally: I don't think she going next, absolutely not. But she is only a member of an alliance and not the leader. So I think she making merge but her days after that are numbered. No Chancers Gabby: Hey Gabby can you get a storyline? You're going to get Lake'd if you don't. Riya: Conner is gone, and this means your safety net is gone. Yul: Oh this is going to be an absolute mess when this blows up, and it'll be glorious. Grett: I should be putting her before Yul, I should as it not looking as immediately dire as it once was. But they are going to do her nasty and have her go before him aren't they? Damn shame. Elimination Conner: I should have stayed true to my initial guess that he was getting backstabbed. I would've been right! But rose tinted glasses made me think of he getting story, he definitely going further than I initially thought. But no, no he wasn't. He could revive, that is on the table. But that is an if, and do I see him going into finals if he revives .... I don't think so. Speaking of ... Revival: Based off these 5, I think Lake would be a good choice to give an actual plot to. Miriam and James would only be there to further the Jake and Aiden feud so I think it would be a bit of a waste. Hunter could come back to finalize that storyline but if he comes back he is getting eliminated especially if it is a double elimination. Last Episode | Next Episode

[hldailyupdate]

I’m the oldest sibling, so there’s always been an element of responsibility. It was a big family, we’d have friends over, we were always on top of each other. It was dead loud in our house.

I worked at Doncaster Rovers as the guy you bought the pies off. We had a little scheme. If the pie fell on the floor, even foil side up, it couldn’t be sold. I didn’t have a lot of money at the time, so a lot went overboard, because the pies were banging.

I was the singer in my school band – the Rogue – for two years. We covered Green Day, blink-182, Oasis. I loved performing – even in front of 100 people from my year group – but they formed another band behind my back because the guitarist wanted to be the singer. I’ve had the last laugh.

What does Simon Cowell smell like? The same as me – cigarettes.

It’s so important, mentally, to have breaks from my abnormality, even if that means putting my business head on for 10 minutes.

I’m not the kind of guy who puts my awards up all over his house, but I do give them the credit they deserve. They’re pretty much centre stage in a cabinet.

Who is more likely to get back together: Oasis or One Direction? I’d love to see Oasis, but I’m going to say us fellas.

The weirdest thing I’ve had to sign? A fan’s boobs.

I’ve no idea how many tattoos I’ve got, 30 or more. Two or three are good, the rest are pretty mad. I’ve got them on my arms, feet and one I’m not proud of – a penguin – on my arse. It’s the least sexy thing in world.

My worst fear used to be getting older, but I’m in my 30s now, so I suppose I’m here. Will I still be doing this when I’m 50? I hope so.

I have an incredible skill to sleep on any flight. Whatever time, however long, it doesn’t matter, I will sleep 90%. I think my body is just starved of sleep. I do have to kind of constantly be reminded of what time zone we’re in, where we are. Your head’s a little pickled – you’re detached from the real world. It’s cool to a degree.

I’ve not been on a night out in Doncaster for years. It’s a combination of being too busy and the fact there’s always a chancer who wants to give you a slap. I don’t want to get my head kicked in.

I’m low-maintenance. I don’t have any major diva requests. As long as I’ve got coffee and cigarettes, I’m sound.

I live a pretty happy life. I’m lucky like that. I don’t cry often, but I’m not afraid to.

The worst thing about fame is the judgment, but I get it. I used to be a judgmental little fucker as well.

Louis Tomlinson’s new album, Faith in the Future, is out now

-The Guardian on Louis. (19 November 2022)

[ofstormsandfire]

okay so the people have spoken and they wanted me to talk about fic updates on here so. don't threaten me with a good time or anything!

coming to you live (or live-ish, nanowrimo and the end of the semester kind of kicked both of our asses) from yours truly as well as my friend @illusion-of-death is a fun little AU of breath of the wild, where...

well, okay.

you like dungeons & dragons?

you like modern AUs? (especially modern AUs where nonhuman characters remain nonhuman)

you like university AUs? (or just, school shenanigans in general)

you like gay shit? (though really, that's something of a given with me.)

consider reading Carry Me From These Walls, where Cym and I went slightly apeshit and are gleefully continuing to do so. years ago, Link and Zelda were in a D&D campaign with their friends, run by Zelda's mom, which ended in tragedy. years later, their paths cross again as they coincidentally happen to be attending the same college, the University of Hyrule, and a new campaign begins...

...but there might be something going on outside the campaign, something that may very well be the reason why the last campaign ended the way it did. it's probably fine, though. right? right.

we put up the latest chapter, Chapter 26, this morning. it's a fun one. the Second Chancers (for every D&D party must have a silly name) might even make it up to that Divine Beast on their own.

man that was fun. I really should do this more often lol

[the-archangel]

I haven't posted for a while, or even written very much, as I wanted to get through PL and see in which direction it dragged me. I'm still not sure how I feel about THAT call in THAT ending, but I'll try and write my way out of it, or into it, not sure yet!

Anyway, I wrote this BEFORE, but it hints at V's devastation in the new ending. I've decided it's called:

NEW NOISE

V sits on the steps leading to the balcony of his penthouse letting the warm rain wash over him. Usually, he would have taken an AV at this time of night to get home from work, but tonight, for Christ only knows what reason, he’d decided to walk the relatively short distance. That was his first mistake.

His second was staying out here long enough for Kerry to realise he was missing. The Rockerboy had clearly been sleeping and grabbed the nearest clothes he could find, combat shorts and V’s old sparring hoodie, to come out to find his mainline, it’s not usual for V to be sat out here alone at any time, but certainly not in the middle of the night so he approaches him quietly – but not so silently as to startle, gently placing a hand on his shoulder and crouching beside him.

As he looks into V’s face, Kerry does his best to suppress the hiss trying to escape from between his teeth, but V knows he looks like shit with his messed-up face and torn clothes and meets his husband’s gaze with clouded eyes. “Hey Ker,” he says in a tired voice, “what’re you doin up this late?”

“Waiting for you ya gonk,” he replies softly, “come inside, you’re getting soaked.”

“In a minute maybe, just need…” the sentence is left unfinished as tears mingle with the rain on his cheeks. He turns away trying to hide this rare show of weakness, but Kerry is having none of it, holding his chin to turn his face back to look into his downcast eyes.

“Talk to me Vince, what happened?” he asks sitting himself down on the step and running his thumb over one of the many bruises blooming on the other man’s cheek.

Lifting his eyes V takes a deep breath and begins the tale.

-

The Afterlife was quiet, even for a Tuesday, so finishing up his paperwork V puts his laptop in the office, locks the door and makes for home. The moon is bright and a light mist of rain is cooling the city after a scorching hot day, it’s a pleasant enough night for a walk so V sets off down the street, it’s maybe a half-hour walk, he’ll be there in no time. He smiles when he thinks about how happy he’d been this morning, Kerry had made brunch and surprised him with VIP tickets to the Night City festival in a couple of weeks, they’d wanted to go for years but it just never happened for one reason or another, V was just thinking about what he had to look forward to and how much he loved that man of his when a noise from the doorway to his left caught his attention.

“Well looky what we’ve got here, Mr la-di-da Eurodyne ‘King of the Afterlife’. What you doin out on the streets with the dregs?”

V curses inwardly, having been out of the merc life for the last four years his instinct for spotting danger clearly wasn’t what it once was, though he’s pretty sure he still has a few tricks up his sleeves. “Just making my way home chooms, not lookin for trouble.”

“You hear that?” the goon calls to his friends, “he’s not looking for trouble. Well that’s a shame cuz trouble looks like it’s found you.”

There were about six of them, though in the dark and shadow it was hard to tell for sure, it didn’t look to V like they were with any gang particularly, just chancers out to make some trouble and besides, the gangs knew the level of pain they’d be causing themselves if they so much as looked at him the wrong way. These guys though, they’re just thinking they’ve found an easy target with a fat wallet.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” a harsh but feminine voice tells him as a second goon emerges from the shadows, “You’re gonna transfer us a shit-tonne of eddies and in return we might not kill you completely dead.”

“Hmm, not sure I like that deal, what if I say no?”

The first male answers, “Then we’ll beat you till your insides are outside and then go after your faggy slut of an output.”

Up until this point, V could have walked away – well jumped out of harm’s way onto the nearby rooftop he’d scanned and ran away – but that was no longer an option.

For the past couple of years V had considered on and off having his Mantis Blades removed, he didn’t use them anymore and the weight of them made his nearly middle-aged shoulders ache. He’d even made the appointment a couple of times and cancelled at the last minute, now he was pleased he had. Despite years of disuse they slip out cleanly, shredding his shirt and jacket and causing the surrounding goons to take a step back, but not to flee which V is pleased about, they’re going down for what they’ve said.

A glinting knife gets cut away along with the arm holding it, legs are hewn from bodies, one sweep sends two heads into the gutter and a final lurch and thrust hooks under the chin of the first goon and pins him to the wall, “The streets are dangerous enough without dicks like you, and now you’re just gonna make the place look untidy with your ugly fucking corpses.” V watches as the tip of his blade makes its way into the other man’s brain, then shakes him off into the gutter along with the rest of his ill-advised chooms and sheaths his weapons.

V is no longer the youthful, healthy man he once was, the rush from the fight leaves him drained and unsteady and after a couple of lurching steps the hard pavement of Night City rushes up to meet his face providing the bruises that Kerry is now so lovingly tending to.

“I don’t know what happened Ker, the blood, the shouting, it was all too much, everything started swimming and I just checked out for a few minutes.”

“Vince, baby, Vik said that overexertion could lay you out, something about missing receptors or some shit, I dunno, but you need to try to walk away from things that get you over-excited.

Sullenly, V nods in agreement. He’s not sure he gets along with this new normal.

[esta-elavaris]

Not only did my laptop just spontaneously update, forcing me to recover all of the smut I've spent the last few days writing, but I then left my bedroom with my laptop unlocked and I am so lucky my brother didn't decide to be a chancer. Never could've looked him in the eye again.

[farewelln3verland]

{The Chancer}

pairing: idol!seungmin x reader

a/n: this is for the amazing @krishastumblernow...i'm so sorry it took so long...but i took creative liberties :)

also...i reccomend listening to the chancer by christopher

Time and time again, you wondered how you’d gotten so lucky. Working for JYP, meeting all sorts of people. With your experience in the staffing department, you'd gotten the job to work specifically for Stray Kids. You’d been brought on in the NoEasy era, and you'd loved it ever since. 

Especially since that's when you met seungmin. He had been the kindest, most welcoming person you’d ever met, even through his shy smiles. He had personally shown you around, taking you to the best coffee shops in the area. It was under the guise of helping you out, but even though you turned a blind eye to acts of affection most times, the way he blushed and stumbled over his words…it confirmed his feelings easily. 

At times, you felt that with his idol life, compared to your considerably less unique lifestyle, it was bound to end. That you couldn't keep up. That you’d never even get to go on a date with him. 

But today. 

Today was the day. You just didn’t know it yet. 

{SEUNGMIN POV} ______________________________________________________

“Deep Breaths, Min.” Chan held up his hands, ready to stabilize.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m okay.” Taking a deep breath, I nodded to myself. Today was the day I’d convince y/n of my love. I'd do it after the group shoot. I knew they had doubts about if we could work, but I was going to prove we could. We were practically dating anyways, we always went to restaurants together, went on walks together…we did everything together. I was so lucky. 

Bustling into the room, y/n looked around frantically, then relaxed, their eyes landing on- Chan. Oh. 

“Chan! Thank god! You were meant to be ready for your shoot ten minutes ago!” 

“No, there was too much drama.” A light and airy voice giggled, and our heads all whipped over to a dark corner. 

“Wooyoung?!” Chan screamed. 

Somehow, the boy from Ateez had gotten in. Honestly- it didn't even surprise me anymore. He showed up when you least expected it. I think Changbin might have given him a key card. That was probably a bad idea. 

But what was somewhat more concerning was that he had Chan’s laptop. 

“Hey!” Chan lunged for the computer- but the red-haired boy was too quick- leaping over the sofa and out the door with Chan running after him.

There was a moment of silence as y/n and I looked at each other then burst out laughing. 

“Oh my god-” Y/n was bent over laughing. “I don't even know how he got here!”

“-Go out with me.”

I blinked. Shit. I was not- I was not supposed to ask like that.What is wrong with me? I've completely screwed this up-

I glanced around and saw the roses I’d planned to give them later. Shoving them in their hands, I immediately looked down and fiddled with my fingers. Hoping someone would come and put me out of my misery. 

“...Yeah. Okay.”

“Wait what-”

“Yes. I’ll go out with you Min. I think we could make this work.”

{END POV}

And that was how we came to be. Two months later and we’re still going strong. The company seems to know, but they aren't doing anything about it. And as for me- I’m ecstatic. I’m in love with y/n. Every time they smile, my world gets a little brighter. Everytime they walk into the room, the world stops around them. They are my one. My all. And that's how I know we’ll last. Because even the world knows how lucky I am that I got such an amazing person as the love of my life. 

The end is not the end for

The Beginning has begun

[thatboomerkid]

Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy

Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy

fomor boar (see M20 Gods & Monsters pg. 105) for use with Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th Anniversary Edition, W20 Book of the Wyrm, and Book of the Wyrm Companion

ATTRIBUTES: Strength 5, Dexterity 2, Stamina 6, Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 2

ABILITIES: Alertness 2, Athletics 2, Brawl 2, Intimidation 2

Willpower: 3

Health Levels: OK, OK, -1, -1, -2, -5, Incapacitated

Armor Rating: 1 (seven soak dice, total)

Attacks: Bite (Strength +1 lethal); Gore (Strength +2 lethal); Body Horror Cannon (8 dice lethal; 25 yard range at Difficulty 6; may fire as a single-shot or Three-Round Burst [W20, pg. 295] weapon; see below)

Fomori Powers: Berserker, Body-Horror Cannon (x2), Eat Corruption

Brought to you absolutely free to use, to enjoy, to share, to dick-around with, and to argue about  – as always – by the fine folks of my Patreon.

Hugest of special thanks to Josh Heath and to all of my First Team: Last Chancers & Exalted Vs. World of Darkness players.

Portions of this material are the copyrights and trademarks of Paradox Interactive AB, and are used with permission. All rights reserved. For more information please visit worldofdarkness.com.

Nothing here is official World of Darkness material.

art by the incredible Joey Wallace

Berserker: A Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy has a Rage Trait of 5; it may spend & regain Rage exactly as if it were an Ahroun (W20, pg. 144-145) and is allowed a standard Rage-roll to remain active after falling to (or below) Incapacitated. In addition, a Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Gun-Piggy regains points of temporary Rage by consuming corpses, radioactive material, bio-hazardous toxic waste, and other absolutely horrible things (such as, just for example, radioactive corpses soaked in bio-hazardous toxic waste; see the Eat Corruption Power, below, for details). Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Gun-Piggies are vulnerable to frenzy (W20, pg. 261-262).

---

Body-Horror Cannon: As a standard action, a Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may choose to spend a point of Willpower or Rage, suffer an unsoakable Health Level of aggravated damage, and roll Willpower, difficulty 7. On a success, the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy draws-forth its cannon instantly; on a failure, it begins pulling the cannon free but must wait three full turns before the weapon is fully ready.

NOTE: The Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy is free to act normally during this time: it does not need to spend further actions “drawing the weapon” as the object slowly emerges from the creature’s body. The Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may – should it fail on this activation-roll – choose to pull the weapon free early, but doing so prevents the beast from regaining its lost Health Level of aggravated damage when the effect of this Power ends (see below).

On a botch, the point of Willpower is spent and the Health Level of aggravated damage is dealt, but the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy can’t force its weapon to emerge from its body for the rest of the scene.

If the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy achieves three or more successes on the Willpower roll to activate this Power, the beast reduces all Difficulties to use the weapon in combat by -1.

When this Power is fully activated, the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy gains use of a Semi-Automatic Shotgun (W20, pg. 303) with unlimited ammunition (detailed above).

This hideous biomechanical firearm is pulled from the monster’s body, still dripping viscera and roaring like a chainsaw, and is often studded with weeping human eyes, crafted of compressed car-engines & rotten meat, continually spraying blood – and less-identifiable fluids – as it screams affronts to Gaia; such cannons are usually crawling with maggots & the obsidian-jade balefire of deepest Malfeas: in all instances, the mere sight of such a weapon incites the Delirium.

This grotesque weapon merges once again with the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy’s body at the end of the scene or after one hour, whichever comes first; the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may choose, at that time, to expend an additional point of Willpower (or Rage) to instead maintain its weapon’s existence for one additional hour or for one additional scene, as appropriate.

The Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may always choose to reabsorb its weapon at any time as a free reflexive action.

If this weapon is removed from the grasp of the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy early, the weapon decays to bits of cartilage, rot, and infected, bubbling ooze at the end of the round … then erupts once more from the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy’s body – appearing in the monster’s hands, ready to use – immediately before the beast’s next action.

When the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy absorbs its weapon back into its body and ends the use of this Power, the monster instantly regenerates its lost Health Level of aggravated damage … unless the weapon was drawn-froth early after a failure on the creature’s activation roll, as noted above.

Each unique, individual Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may choose three (3) of the following Special Ammunition Types when it crawls forth to defile & devour Gaia’s children:

Acid-Drenched Thunderwyrm-Teeth: The piggy’s cannon deals -4 dice of damage as compared to a normal Semi-Automatic Shotgun, but the weapon deals aggravated damage rather than lethal; any creature struck by a blast from the weapon also suffers an additional 2 dice of aggravated damage, soaked separately, the following round (difficulty 6 to soak).

Jagged-Razor Bone-Slivers: The piggy’s cannon deals -1 die of damage as compared to a normal Semi-Automatic Shotgun, but the weapon automatically ignores up to three points of armor. This specific Special Ammunition Type may be selected multiple times, and its effects stack: a cannon with Jagged-Razor Bone-Slivers [x3], for example, deals -3 dice of base damage and ignores up to nine points of armor. The Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may always choose to apply a smaller number of “doses” of this Special Ammunition Type to a shot it makes, if it desires.

Nasty, Sharp, and Pointy: The piggy’s cannon deals +1 die of damage. This specific Special Ammunition Type may be selected multiple times, and its effects stack: a weapon with Acid-Drenched-Thunderwyrm-Teeth plus Nasty, Sharp, and Pointy [x2], for example, would deal -2 dice of base shotgun damage, aggravated (rather than -4 dice); the target would then suffer 2 dice of aggravated damage (as normal) the following round.

‘Splodin’ Tumor-Loogie: The piggy’s cannon deals -2 dice of damage to its primary target; when its projectile detonates, however, the shot then deals [-1 die/2 yards out] of lethal damage to everything else in the area: this means 6 dice of lethal to the first target, 5 dice to everything within two yards, 4 die to everything within four yards, and so-on all the way down to one die of lethal damage to anyone 10 yards away from the target (this is, of course, assuming that the blast doesn’t also have the Nasty, Sharp, and Pointy Special Ammunition Type, above, applied to it -- increasing the base damage of the shot -- or any Special Ammunition Type that LOWERS the base damage of the weapon).

Tumor Full of Infected Waste: This unique Special Ammunition Type may only be added to a ‘Splodin’ Tumor-Loogie shot (see above); when the projectile detonates, it also coats everything within ten yards of the detonation-point with a thick layer of bubbling biohazardous sludge, which very rapidly begins filling the same area with toxic gas. Direct expose to the sizzling liquid deals 2 dice of lethal damage each turn, on the target’s action, until it’s washed-off, while exposure to the fumes deals 2 more dice of lethal damage each turn (also on the target’s action). Creatures with any level of poison resistance or immunity to poison (such as leeches and those with the Gift: Resist Toxin) are immune to the gas, but not to the sludge; a creature outfitted in a full biohazard suit is effectively immune to both. The sludge and gas dissipate after about ten minutes unless cleared-away early: use of the Gift: Call the Breeze (W20, pg. 199) can push away the fumes, but not the sludge itself. This specific Special Ammunition Type may be selected multiple times, and its effects stack: each time it’s selected, the sludge and the fumes each increase the damage they deal by two dice of lethal damage.

Tumor of Gore-Slick Calcification: This unique Special Ammunition Type may only be added to a ‘Splodin’ Tumor-Loogie shot that is also a Tumor Full of Infected Waste shot; when the projectile detonates, the sizzling bile sprayed over everything in the area rapidly hardens into a dense, solid mass of semi-organic, contagion-ridden resin: something like pustulent basalt – formed by the rapid cooling of liquid iron – bubbling with hot plastics & liquefied death. Each round on her action, immediately after a creature suffers additional damage from the toxic sludge of a Tumor Full of Infected Waste, the creature also gains one of the following (her choice):

she suffers a one-die penalty on all Dexterity-related dice pools

she suffers a two-dice penalty on all Perception-related dice pools

her movement-speed is halved, rounded down: because a normal human jogs at a rate of 13 yards per turn and runs at a rate of 20 yards per turn, a human who selects this effect twice (for example) may jog at a rate of only 3 yards per turn or flat-out run at a rate of 5 yards per turn

A creature reduced to a Dexterity score of zero or lower by this effect is effectively frozen – immobilized, able to take only purely mental and social actions (such as screaming for help, activating Gifts that require no external movement, or having a panic attack, for example) – while a creature reduced to a Perception score of zero or lower is effectively blind, deaf, and utterly numb, able to smell and taste only the thick, clotted, tar-like poison coating her, with all sensory-organs otherwise filled-in & glued-shut.

The congealing sludge eventually becomes glass-like – still oozing, ever so slightly, like 120-degree asphalt warping under a gout of balefire – and subsequently shatters into shards of irritating organic-metal dust after about ten minutes (as normal for a Tumor Full of Infected Waste shot).

This specific Special Ammunition Type may be selected multiple times, and its effects stack; each time it’s selected, a creature affected by the sludge suffers an additional “debuff” of her choice (an extra die of Dexterity-penalty, two extra dice of Perception-penalty, or an extra halving of her movement-speed) each round, immediately after suffering damage from the sludge of a Tumor Full of Infected Waste effect: a creature hit by a Tumor of Gore-Slick Calcification [x3] shot, for example, might choose to gain a two-dice Dexterity-penalty and a two-dice Perception-penalty on her first found after suffering damage, then choose to suffer a four-dice Perception-penalty and halve her movement-speed again on the following round.

The Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may always mix-&-match its Special Ammunition Types as it desires, switching between them or combining them on the fly.

NOTE: if a Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy would ever gain a new Fomori Power for any reason, the beast may instead choose to gain two (2) new Special Ammunition Types.

---

Eat Corruption: A Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may draw strength & sustenance from unnatural sources, gaining up to ten points of Willpower or Rage (piggy’s choice!) each day from consuming objects thick with corruption and nightmare resonance.

No single object consumed in this way can provide more than three points of Rage (or Willpower), and most such objects provide only a single point. Objects to be consumed must be things associated with depravity, monstrosity, decay, or excess: the Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy gains no benefit from consuming gravel, unless it’s from a spot where a mortal died.

A Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy can even gain Rage (or Willpower) from eating normal human food, so long as the food is eaten in full view of a starving person; alternatively, the piggy might smear the food with blood or other bodily fluids first.

A Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggy may also -- at the Storyteller’s discretion -- gain Rage (or Willpower) from consuming murder weapons, stolen wedding rings, rare art, illegal drugs, human flesh, maggots, vomit, feces, insects, bones, and suicide notes.

===

enjoying this? get more here!

===

Word on the street these days has it that Chicago-based “private conceptual bio-research design-&-consulting firm” (read as: illegal black-ops military-grade flesh-engineering studio) Jetpacks & Sugar-Bombs LTD. — an off-the-books division of Nik-Nak Computing & high-profile, top-end contractor for Project Echidna — is, as of this most recent financial quarter, under new management.

VERY new management.

This is, just to be clear, more than somewhat to be expected: the catastrophic failure of the Particularly Diseased Pigeon (Book of the Wyrm Companion, pg. 46-47) to hit its numbers in terms of “being able to fucking MURDER a whole shit-ton of Bone Gnawers & their kin” could NOT have come at a worse time for the company, already reeling from the tragically underwhelming debut of the Lookie-Loo Hooty-Hooter (Book of the Wyrm Companion, pg. 38-39).

Long story short? Inflation is up, real wages are down, the stock market is a shit-show, the economy is a shambles, another recession is right around the corner, and the Lookie-Loo Hooty-Hooter is — while certainly a, uhhhh … a “technical marvel,” I guess? — it simply lacks the ... eh, how you say?

The uh ...

THE MOTHERFUCKING WOW!!1! FACTOR, DAWG

... I suppose, that’s required to truly electrify the Board of Directors.

Look, man: Peter Culliford, Benjamin Rushing, and Chase Lamont may not agree on much — other than a shared love of serial-murder & some hardcore mutual disdain for one another — but I think we can all agree that they (and their colleagues) expect something slightly more impressive than “an owl that can see werewolves” when Harold Zettler unveils his newest project.

Like, you know!

A penguin made out of napalm!

An orangutan that shits ninja-stars!

A rattlesnake with a rocket-launcher, and then when it bites you it turns your blood into even more rocket-launcher-snakes that shoot their way out! Pew pew pew!

And let’s be clear: while Jetpacks & Sugar-Bombs LTD. may have a few big wins under their belt, they are — sad to say — sorely lacking the proven track-record of a group like Danmakuden Dynamic (an affiliate of Ichibashi, a subsidiary of Hallahan Fishing Company), or the First United Blargarian Church of Squaid the Redeemer (a splinter-faction of Incognito), or even those asshole bastards over at the Dick Meatsweats Collective (very proudly sponsored by O’Tolley’s, the Family Place!).

Speaking of which?

Yeah, those conniving shit-heals rushed their piss-poor, brick-stupid, utterly-unnecessarily-flashy Pure Goddamn ‘Murikan Patriotism Elemental (Book of the Wyrm Companion, pg. 53-54) out of beta-testing just to get the jump on the hot new King Vulture-fomor currently being built by the evil genius ornithologist team at Jetpacks & Sugar-Bombs, Codename: The King of Vrock.

THERE IS NONE HIGHER.

Hey, dickheads! “Avian-based fomori” are, like, their THING over here, man!

... or, I guess, at least, they were?

A guy who knows a guy who works at Jetpacks & Sugar-Bombs told me that Harold Zettler flew-in from Beaumont on the night the new quarterly figures dropped to personally eviscerate the CEO & feed him to his top brass.

It was a goddamn horror-show, man.

Anyway: Jetpacks & Sugar-Bombs is officially out of the bird-business.

They’re now in the PIG business.

‘Cause the new big-man over at Jetpacks & Sugar-Bombs -- a fellow by the name of Beauregard T. Waterhouse, former head honcho of Southeastern Waterhouse-Mangrove Suburban Development, responsible for fifteen out of the twenty largest hog-rendering facilities in the United States -- has a vision.

And that vision may be briefly summarized as The Age of Swine.

... the longer & less-summarized version, which Beauregard is currently writing-up -- one chapter at a time! -- as a sort of tell-all, self-help, personal-growth & lifestyle-fitness guide / business-Bible for all those cutthroat businessmen who aren’t (yet) greedy enough to literally devour the bones of the enemies, gets a LOT more into Mr. Waterhouse’s deeply held personal belief that “humans,” as a species, will very soon be replaced by a race of genetically-engineered super pig-human hybrids who have been designed to be as delicious as possible.

Once he’s finished, he’s REALLY hoping to get on Oprah with it.

Maybe on Joe Rogan.

Fingers crossed!

(Please note that the “T.” in Mr. Waterhouse’s name stands for “The Boss”).

A figure otherwise shrouded in mystery, Mr. Waterhouse is an intensely private man: they say that no one has ever met him personally, dealing with him only through phone calls, emails, and his loyal assistant: Scoot Turgsen.

Scoot Turgson, ladies & gentlemen: proud, card-carrying member of Tau Upsilon Phi (W20 Book of the Wyrm, pg. 137)

The reason for this privacy is two-fold:

Such anonymity affords Mr. Waterhouse the rare & valuable opportunity to sow mistrust, discord, paranoia, and suspicion among his employees.

Mr. Waterhouse is not human, per se, and in point of fact is technically a Skullpig (W20 Book of the Wyrm, pg. 154-155) who has eaten so many goddamn fomori that he’s now rocking an Intelligence of 5 (or possibly higher, if you decide to give him the Mega-Intelligence Fomori Power [W20 Book of the Wyrm, pg. 133-134 & Book of the Wyrm Companion, pg. 59], because ... eh. Why the fuck not, at this point?)

... and oh yeah, it ALSO lets Mr. Waterhouse do a wide variety of goofy voices for his own amusement (one of his favorite hobbies): while in-character as a CEO, for example, he 100% sounds like Foghorn Leghorn fucked Boss Hog.

He just finds it very funny to hear people shit themselves with terror while he rants & raves about killing them into a speaker-phone with a silly accent.

But that’s not important right now.

What’s important is that Mr. Waterhouse now has the money & connections to make his dream of replacing humans with swine-monsters an actual reality; his hot new Rage-Fueled Fully-Automatic Disposable Gun-Piggies, already in the ramp-up to full-on industrial-scale production, are just his first step.

He has so many more horrible ideas.

And pigs are SO CHEAP to work with!

... and unless someone from the Garou Nation and/or the Beast Courts of the Emerald Mother* can get their shit together and stop him, Mr. Waterhouse is gonna kill a whole goddamn lot of people as he attempts to stomp the world into mud beneath an infinite tide of squealing, Bane-infested murder-pigs.

*NOTE: that would be your PCs.

---

As noted above: portions of these materials are the copyrights and trademarks of Paradox Interactive AB, and are used with permission. All rights reserved. For more information please visit worldofdarkness.com.

Nothing here is official World of Darkness material.

all hail the Dark Pack.

(for more information, see here)