#pistolism: 001.

[firecatgamer]

> Terminal entry 001

Unit type: Patrol Unit

Unit Codename: RED

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RED type units are the most commonly manifactured units. They can be human, cyborg or robot. Every one of them is equipped with a laser pistol and an electric baton, but it is possible to change weapons depending on the task given.

Due to the large amount of RED units we have provided a hierarchy, the units with 9 dots being highest in command, and 1 dot being the lowest.

The back of their armor provides 2 attachments that can be used for ammo, medkits or batteries.

RED type units can be used in any situation but are mainly used for patrolling. Nice of them to provide weak spots. Shoot the glowing bits. Try not to kill the humans.

----

Obligatory english isnt my first language so I have no clue if any of this is actually understandable :p Also I'm calling this universe(?) Beyond Repair because lore reasons and also it sounds cool, probably

[pin-crusher2000]

Character files 001: Jacob Grayson

FireWing is a young vigilante/superhero who is also the son of Nightwing & StarFire plus the twin brother of NightStar. He is also the co-leader of the superhero group: Young Titans.

Appearance: a young man with tan white skin (a slight orange tan due to his mom) human green eyes (that glows fully green light when using powers and/or angry) & black hair that has a little of bright red hair dye.

Outfit: a purple & white version of nightwings outfit but the blue bird is a white flame/he has a Nightwing version where the blue bird is a flame design.

Personality: laidback, goofy, serious, a good sport like his dad and kind, sensitive, & emotional like his mom.

Powers: FireWing has half tamaranean dna, which means he can absorb solar radiation that allows him to fly, gain super abilities like strength & speed, and due to his mothers, is able to shoot out fireballs called StarBolts in forms of balls, energy waves, & a flamethrower move. (In case you’re wondering, yes he can & will light his farts on fire 😂 extra fun fact)

Trivia/Fun Facts:

Knows how to juggle; his dad taught him.

He has special type of escrima sticks that allows him to channel his starbolt energy into to create energy constructs like swords or axes, he can also use it like a laser beam gun by pointing the tip at something & firing it like a pistol both non-lethally & lethally, he can also use it as a torch to see in the dark.

Loves to play basketball 🏀 he is also on a team at his school.

His favorite heroes are: his parents, twin sister, the teen titans (both his father’s version & Red Robin’s) & Superman.

In my universe: FireWing & his sister NightStar are ancient descendants of the goddess X’Hal, which means they possess the ability to have a transformation ability: they gain sharp cat teeth & fingernails with spiky & bright hair like in anime with glowing eyes, there are three different levels: green, red/orange, & purple. (Along with their starbolt colors) their mom & aunt does not have this ability due to…..reasons lol

One more thing: in the comics they would leave like a flame/light trail from their hair when the fly, in my universe it only happens when they are in their transformation state.

[chl-owo-e]

★-{Wild Sunflowers}-★

(Daryl Dixon X Fem! Reader)

Summary; In the midst of chaos they still found each other. With a crossbow in his hand, and a pistol in yours, nothing was written in the air except the tense longing for each other.

Warnings; Angst, fluff, blood, mutilation, slow burn?, TWD stuff, smut, Strangers to lovers?

—————————————————

•-[Chapters]-•

(001/One) -{It’s mine}-

Summary; Stumbling upon each other, with weapons pointed straight in the other's face. Nothing was lost yet there was a lot to gain, but for what?

(002/Two) -{what used to be}-

Summary; The past hurts, even when the wound healed it still feels like it’s bleeding. But sometimes you have to rip off the bandaid, if not the pain wont get any better.

(003/Three)-{The Hunt for something new}-

Summary;

—————————————————

[cowboygreeting]

art © starparkdesigns

task 001. 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚛.

last updated 02/20/2024

BASICS.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 seth hiroshi masters — seth hiroshi from birth, masters 1996-onwards, following his legal adoption.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 cowboy greeting professionally, apparently; gnomerodeo if you know him from online. believe it or not, it is a coincidence.

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 will sharpe

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 thin scar cutting through his eyebrow, healed-broken nose, occasional facial twitch/spasm

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

japanese maple (right shoulder); canada goose in flight (right bicep); soot sprites (left forearm); kermode bear [spirit bear] (crook of left elbow); pistols pointing down (matching, both hips); portuguese water dog [his childhood dog sam] in play (left calf)

pierced right ear, small gold hoop

𝐀𝐆𝐄 / 𝐃.𝐎.𝐁. 38 years old / 2.2.1986

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 aquarius sun: unconventional, abstract, boundary-pushing, roots for the underdog; scorpio moon: intense, passionate, dramatic, struggles to let others in; sagittarius rising: independent, optimistic, confident, charismatic yet blunt and critical

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 powell river, b.c. / brampton, ontario

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

ellen and rod masters (parents); mackenzie irish (sister); brandon irish (brother-in-law); june irish (niece)

kaiko mcintyre-masters (daughter, lives with her mother) — his favourite person on planet earth, hands down, would do anything for her, keeps several pictures of her in his wallet, will not be letting anyone here who doesn't already know she exists know about her.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒 cis man, he/him

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 gay

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 single, never married.

enjoys hookups and casual relationships; has dated on-and-off; last serious relationship ended several years ago; says he's prioritizing work and his daughter, truly has no interest in committing to the people he meets.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 thoughtful, considerate, loyal, obedient

𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 timid, disconnected, tendency towards disinvestment, capacity for fixation/malicious compliance

𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 vaping, compulsive gaming, more-than-occasional drug and alcohol use, late night wandering, not texting back

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 gaming (particularly world of warcraft and rust, social games); bass guitar; powerlifting; cooking; rec-league rugby

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒 (𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄) tobiko — tiny crusty white mutt. sometimes known as tobi or toebeans. currently being cared for by his parents.

THE FOUNDATION.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄 jr. researcher

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍(𝐒) jr. researcher for the reintegration department; field analyst doing site evaluations on a number of mtfs — some might call this "glorified operative hall monitor", which he would resent

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 last worked for the anomalous entities engagement division (aeed), researching the efficacy of humane containment procedures and enrichment programs against more traditional methods of containment — some might describe this as "glorified scp babysitter", which he wouldn't necessarily object to

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒

formal credentials include: a b.a. in psychology, with a focus in cognitive and behavioural psych; a masters of social work, with a focus in public policy and family systems; several years of experience writing policy in the non-profit sector, several years of experience working with vulnerable clients in the field

informal credentials include: an impossibly high tolerance for bureaucratic bullshit, an iron stomach, thicker skin than you'd imagine, genuinely sense of care for those around him, not caring whether or not he personally gets fired, fluency in boardspeak

EXTRAS.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 to be added.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 to be added.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 / 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 to be added.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 gideon nav, the locked tomb; dr. wilson, house; antigone, jean anouilh's antigone; camilla hect, the locked tomb; oh dae-su, oldboy

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 to be expanded upon. for the time being, see my cg tag.

[fictionkin-hell]

☆Crying Child Playlist for Anon!☆

With 80s punk and gothic rock!

♪001 Problems - Sex Pistols

♪002 What I See - Black Flag

♪003 Insight - Dead Kennedys

♪004 It Follows - Minor Threat

♪005 Should I Stay or Should I Go - The Clash

♪006 People Are People - Depeche Mode

♪007 Broken - Tears for Fears

♪008 We Are So Fragile - Tubeway Army

♪009 Birthday - The Sugarcubes

♪010 Dead Souls - Joy Division

[cophene]

001 || ☆ ⁺ « TUMBLEDOWN BARS IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : with virtually nothing left in their credit account, a gang of space thieves turn to the richest man in the galaxy to give them  a job worth millions. too bad those never come easy, even with stand abilities and pretty-faced crew notes : sci-fi au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 3.2k+

★˚⋆  IF LADY LEGARDE WOULD JUST STOP cutting flirty glances at your pilot, the deal would have drawn to a close by now. You’d be walking away from this sticky, sweat-smelling plastic booth with some much-needed credits to feed the crew’s starving account. Maybe you would grab a drink before heading back to the Passione, Trish on your arm and Narancia throwing snarky remarks at your back. You’d fill up the kitchen with some real food. Replace the seats. Get your ship back to the purring, sexy piece of machinery that had been your first love.

As it were, however, your ass was still parked in a gaudy red vinyl seat, a sexagenarian making moony eyes at your pilot, and a turtle beside your plate of fries who may or may not have died in the twenty minutes since you’d gotten here. 

Granted, the turtle was still encased in a slim card, just the size of your palm. If it died, you wouldn’t have blamed it.

“How old did you say you were again?” Lady Legarde asked, in a way that was not creepy in the slightest. In another universe, she could’ve been someone’s perfectly sweet grandmother, but in this one, she happened to be an eccentric gazillionaire with a penchant for gathering unusual animals.

And young, impetuous pilots, it seemed.

Narancia grinned, quicksilver against his olive skin. “Twenty plus one soon enough.”

Lady Legarde’s smile turned foxy, and she rested her sizable chest against her arm, pushing up her breasts. She wore a dress made of what looked like feathers upon first glance, but were actually scraps of denim. The Lady had paired the ridiculous dress with a cone-looking black hat and enormous tortoise shell sunglasses. You thanked the stars you’d only gotten a glimpse of her knee-high denim boots before they were hidden beneath the table. 

Narancia raised his eyebrows and you had to look at the strips of green lights in the ceiling to keep from hurling. This woman was about two decades too old to be making moves like that. It was a wonder she hadn’t been arrested for that plunging neckline.

“So young,” Lady Legarde purred. “And you’re a pilot? That must be challenging.”

“I’m a sucker for challenges,” Narancia said, his voice lowering in a way that must have sent this woman’s ovaries quivering.

Trish chose that moment to jump in, bless her stars. “May I ask a question, Lady Legarde?” Her fingers stroked lightly over the card with the turtle. With five members on your squad, there were only so many people who could be at this meeting today. Fugo was back on the Passione, keeping watch, and the crew’s gunman, Mista, was a few stores away, his elector and Pistols on the ready should things go sideways. More likely he was flirting with anyone remotely cute who came his way.

Trish and Fugo were always your first pick for this kind of thing; Trish for her charm and self-assuredness; Fugo for his perception and keen thinking. Despite that, Fugo had insisted on switching himself out for Narancia. The last meeting with Lady Legarde hadn’t gone well; Lady Legarde noticing the prickly way Fugo held himself and poking at him until his temper exploded. The entire deal had nearly been blown out the window if Trish had desperately swooped in to scramble for a deal. 15 000 credits wasn’t even half of what the turtle was worth. With Coco Jumbo under Lady Legarde’s nose, you were hoping to raise the payment to the 50 000 credits your crew was due. And it was the least you were due, considering you’d flown through half the galaxy and bashed the Passione within an inch of her life during the mad dash. 

So yeah, you needed those credits. Pretty badly. It just would’ve been nice of Fugo to mention that Lady Legarde had a weakness for violet-eyed boys with rakish grins and messy hair. So did you, but at least you could be professional about it. Maybe Narancia could have been here to your advantage, but so far, he was doing the opposite.

“Ask,” Lady Legarde said. Her gaze didn’t leave Narancia and neither did the smirk curling her lips. How he sat stealing fries from your plate and looking completely unbothered was beyond you.

“How much did you say you would offer this turtle?” Trish and Lady Legarde had the same stiff, crisp accent in common with Fugo. You and Mista liked to make fun of it, especially whenever Trish got pissed and Fugo started bitching. It was the voice of the pampered, upper class people of Inner Space, too wealthy to slum it with the rest of the galaxy. A few years on the crew had watered down Fugo and Trish’s accent, thankfully

“10 000 credits.” Stone cold liar, this one. You never would’ve accepted any mission paying that little. Things were rough, but that didn’t warrant risking your crew’s asses for pocket change.

No wonder Fugo had blown up last time with Lady Legarde. You were about to scream at her yourself.

“Oh, really?” Trish’s full lips formed a perfect pout. “Surely this little turtle is worth more than that, my Lady. It wasn’t easy to get our hands on him.”

“I distinctly remember telling you it was 10 000. Don’t try to bargain, darlings. You can’t increase the worth of the turtle.”

“You can’t find it within your heart to raise the price? I know I’d appreciate it,” Narancia said.

“Oh, believe me, I want to," Lady Legarde cocked her head, "but I have a set price for these transactions. Budgeting and all that. I’m sure you understand.”

“20 000 isn’t too much to ask,” Trish pressed. “Especially for someone like you.”

“10 000 is my limit.” Lady Legarde had the audacity to titter behind her hand. She reached out to take the card into her hand and eyed it critically. “Besides, as charming as you all are, how can I know this is the genuine turtle? You’ll take it out of this card, won’t you? Even then, it’s missing something.”

“I’ll take it out after you pay,” you said flatly. “And the key isn’t included. If you want it, that’s extra.”

Lady Legarde finally turned her attention to you. “You’re the captain, yes? I remember you from our last meeting. You look like you’ve done business like this before. Do you make it a habit to dupe your clients?”

You almost laughed. This lady had some nerve.

Even with your nonexistent turtle knowledge, you knew the one sitting here wasn’t anything special. The only reason the Lady wanted it—and the reason it had been so damn hard to get in the first place—was because of the key that fit into the turtle’s shell. You weren’t quite sure what it did, seeing as an afternoon of Fugo fiddling around with it hadn’t brought anything up. The only sure thing was that it had something to do with a Stand—snazzy, supernatural abilities that only a select few in the galaxy were privy to. 

That was part of the reason why the Lady had sought your crew out. There were hundreds of thieving crews in the galaxy, but your crew’s specialty were these high-caliber thefts involving Stands. Since everyone on your crew had a Stand ability, you had been able to pull off a hell of a lot, giving you a much-needed leg up on those other crews. Sure, your crew could always sell those artifacts and gems to anyone, but purloining for the wealthy gave Passione an almost elite status. People liked you. You were celebrities unto yourselves. Thousands of people tuned into the daily holocast everyday just to see what else you’d managed to snag. The more secure, valuable, and elusive the better.

At least, it had been like that once. You couldn’t remember the last time your credit account had those kinds of triple-digit figures. And lately, it was more likely to see a newscast on Prince Donatello’s new handbag than an escapade from your crew. Lady Legarde was one of the biggest clients you’d had in a long time.

“Give me the key,” Lady Legarde said.

“30 000 for the turtle,” you answered, fishing the key from the front pocket of your jumpsuit, “and 30 000 for the key.”

Trish nudged your leg. You ignored her. You were done playing games with this woman.

Lady Legarde laughed. “You have moxy, I’ll give you that. 15 000.”

“I’m not negotiating. 60 000 or we’re out.”

“Who do you think you are to be demanding that kind of money? Your crew should be thankful I even hired you for this job.”

“On the contrary.” You smiled crookedly. “We’ve got a list of other people who want to get their hands on this turtle. If you don’t want to pay us, we can find someone else to sell to.”

Narancia’s eyebrows drew together the slightest bit. It was a tiny bluff on your part. Sure you had a list, but not anyone else who could pay as much as the Lady.

Lady Legarde’s teasing demeanor shed like a second skin. When she spoke again, her voice was iron. “15 000. That’s my final offer. I highly doubt you’ll find a higher price than that.” She was still holding the turtle card. Deftly, you snatched it away.

“A shame, then. Looks like we’ll be going.” You pushed away from the booth.

“If you’re really so pigheaded, fine. I’ll pay what you ask. If you allow me one request.”

“That request being…”

Lady Legarde extended a silver-tipped finger towards Narancia. “Your pilot spends a night with me.”

Several things happened at once. You were on your feet, slipping out the elector card you’d concealed in your sleeve and pointing it at the Lady’s face. In the same moment, she lurched from her seat and got an arm around Narancia, wrestling him to her chest away from the booth. Trish was dragged from her seat as someone yanked her arms around her and stuck an elector against her temple—one of Lady Legarde’s goons making his appearance after hiding out in one of the booths. As your eyes darted around, several more melted into view, forming a loose circle around you and the booth with the Lady and Trish outside. The bar was now silent and still as a crypt. Everyone had left at some point without your noticing.

Stupid, you thought. Why didn’t I notice her goons were the only ones in here with us? You were literally backed into a corner. It should've instantly been suspicious that this ultra rich woman was choosing to meet in such a tumbledown bar in the middle of nowhere. Tumbledown bars in the middle of nowhere were much easier to riddle with elector bullets.

You gripped the turtle card in your other hand. “The deal’s off,” you barked. “Let go of my pilot before I shoot.” Not that you could do much, fenced in by the vinyl seats and ring of goons.

To her credit, the Lady didn’t seem confused at the sight of an elector in your hand after you’d already been patted down at the door. That nifty trick of slipping things into cards was thanks to your Stand, the specifics of which you weren’t about to get into at the moment. It had saved your ass on multiple occasions, and this one was about to be a prime example. 

“I hired you to get me the turtle,” Lady Legarde said calmly. “Leave and you’ll be reported to the Galactic Authorities for immoral conduct and fraud.”

“You haven’t even paid us!” Trish burst out. The schmuck restraining her pressed a hand over her mouth.

Narancia looked bemused more than anything, especially pressed against Lady Legarde’s boobs. “Hey, I know my acting is good, but you know you’re not my type, right?”

“Quiet!” Your heart leapt into your throat as the Lady drew out a needle from an unseen pocket in her dress and jabbed it into your pilot’s neck. He went limp as a spaghetti noodle. Trish let out a whimper as your hand twitched on the elector trigger. As if on cue, the loose circle of Lady Legarde's goons leveled their electors at you. electors had three settings, Stun, Incap, and Kill. Your crew rarely turned the dial to Kill, but guessing from the hard buzz coming from the weapons around you, the goons weren't as morally driven.

Where the flack was your gunman when you needed him?

"What did you do to him?" you growled.

"A sedative to make the trip back to my penthouse easier," said Lady Legarde with an acerbic smile. "Really, we're making a scene, darling. Hand over the turtle please."

It didn't take a master tactician to know one elector against ten wouldn't end well. You kept your elector aimed between the Lady's sunglasses, mind racing. Trish was struggling behind you and Narancia was flopped over the Lady’s arm like a sack of potatoes.

You should’ve just taken that 10 000, huh?

A shadow at the back of the bar caught your attention. 

You let the arm holding the elector fall back to your side. Lady Legarde smiled triumphantly. You tapped it against your thigh twice, putting a defeated expression on your face and hoping Trish was watching. 

“You want the turtle so much?” You raised the turtle card, pinched between your index and middle finger.

“Have it.”

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

[starblazes]

📂📂 🏃💨

( headcanons / accepting !! )

001. She dumpster dives. This is absolutely 100% a hobby and not a gimmick or a fun little joke. Stelle is an endlessly curious person and, having few memories to fall back on, she likes to get her hands on anything that might spark a clue as to who she was before Kafka woke her up. Whenever she returns to the Parlor Car after a Trailblaze mission, or even a side trip, she almost always has a bagful of trinkets with her that she's procured from various trash cans and dumpsters. Everything from broken pocket watches to glass jewelry beads and marbles. One person's trash is another person's treasure, as the saying goes.

002. Perhaps an obvious one, but Stelle's fighting style could be described as "scrappy". She is not trained, or at least, doesn't remember being trained, and isn't afraid to get in a foe's personal space to fight in hand-to-hand combat and play dirty. Stelle is resourceful enough that she can pretty much use anything as a weapon, whether it's her signature baseball bat or something requiring more precision like a pistol. She learns these weapons pretty quickly and can usually think fairly quick on her feet, making her a formidable opponent even when rendered without a "real" weapon.

[wino-strut]

Hot As A Pistol But Cool Inside (Jerry Painting 001) Piece: 24” Tall x 20” Wide 1/2” Profile Piece with Frame: 26” Tall x 22 1/8” Wide 2 5/8” Profile Oil, House Paint, Acrylic, Pencil On Wood Board By: David Phillips (wino-strut) www.wino-strut.com 3/2023 #jerrygarcia #hotasapistolbutcoolinside #jerrypainting #oilpainting #portrait #deadandcompany #tiedye #contemporaryart #gratefuldeadart #gratefuldead #deadhead #oneofakind #handmade #hesgone #wolfguitar #wolf #purples #greys #blues #deepdive https://www.instagram.com/p/CpnmwaAPAQH/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ignitedfms]

[ ruth negga, demi-woman, she/they ] Look who just landed! GRACE ASEFA, I sure hope you packed all you need. Perhaps you’re not worried as BOSS of THE ISLES / INDEPENDENT MECHANIC for UNAFFILIATED. The city has plenty of spots for a 40 year old CYBORG like you. You’ll be known in the city soon enough as THE CATALYST, being DEDICATED and VENGEFUL. ( eve, 27, GMT, removed for discretion )

00000 - - INTERVIEW INCOMING - - - 001

001101 1- - ARE you A LOCAL OF MARS OR HAVE you LANDED HERE RECENTLY? WHAT IS your OPINION OF THE CITY OF NEW JAKARTA? - 00011011

Why she has been brought in for questioning, Grace has yet to ascertain, but it was not their first time there, and likely wouldn’t be their last. She had lived a lifetime of charges the OVERSEERS couldn’t make stick, and even now, as a semi-respectable business owner in the MAWAR DISTRICT, they liked to pull her in when they’d exhausted all other leads. It was as reliable a thing as the passing of night and day, but it rarely annoyed them. In fact, it had the opposite effect, and now served as a running gag among members of The Isles.

She crossed one leg over the other casually, utterly at ease. “You know, officer, usually I don’t tell people my life story until they’ve bought me a drink first.” Stone silence. They tut. “You’re less fun than the one I spoke to last time. That’s okay. I was born here, and I’ll die here. NEW JAKARTA is my city, for better or for worse.”

0101022 - - ARE you AWARE OF THE CRIMINAL CIRCUIT OF NEW JAKARTA? WOULD you BE WILLING TO INFORM THE OVERSEERS IF you SEE ANYTHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY? - 001200

“What exactly do you define as ordinary? What do you define as criminal?” she asks, leaning across the table with a smile. “It seems to me that people like to pick and choose what constitutes a crime these days. Maybe it’s all subjective.” They lean back again, expression lingering somewhere between amusement and disgust. There is plenty that they could say. They could point out that many of the criminals working in the city only did so out of necessity, or else they would be living on the streets, or worse. They could argue that the most egregious offenders were the ones who operated in skyscrapers, issuing orders from behind polished chrome desks that resulted in destruction far worse than anything devised in the slums. They could say that the city was corrupt from its outskirts to its centre, and no amount of work that OVERSEERS could do would change a thing when they were controlled by criminals themselves.

But she restrains herself, and merely rolls her eyes instead of spewing a tirade of vitriol.

“Given that you keep dragging me in here for any offence that comes across your desks that you don’t have a suspect for, I don’t think I’ll be informing the OVERSEERS about anything. You’ve given me no reason to believe that you can do your jobs correctly. My mother would have better luck solving crimes than you, and she’s in her seventies.”

000111311 - - HAVE you BEEN TESTED FOR ANY TRACES OF SIGHIR? HAVE your TESTS ON THE VIRUSES COME BACK CLEAN? - 0012133

They can’t help but laugh. “Wow, you don’t communicate with one another at all, do you? You should know from the last time you dragged me here that I’ve been tested for everything and am completely clean. Next?”

0113114 - - DO you HAVE ANYTHING TO DECLARE? WEAPONS, AUGMENTATIONS, MECHANICAL PARTS OR AI-RELATED APERTURE? - 0012444

With calculated nonchalance, Grace leans back in their chair, hands behind their head. “Shattered my knee back in my twenties, they had to rebuild it using muscle weave and titanium bone. And I had an energy implant installed a few years ago. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.”

She neglects to mention the pistol strapped to her ankle, concealed by her boots, and the butterfly knife tucked neatly into the waistband of their jeans. They also don't think it worth mentioning their recorder unit, or their enhanced hearing, or their cybernetic hand with all the functions of a Swiss Army knife. What the OVERSEERS didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. Yet.

“Now, if I’m not under arrest, I believe I’m free to leave — yes?”

[boyakishantriage]

SCP - 001

Class: N/A

“Triage”

Description: SCP-001 appears to be a woman of Chinese Malaysian descent. She does not require sleep or food but prefers to have so, seemingly out of habit. SCP - 001 behaves in a sarcastic, “helpfully unhelpful” behaviour.

SCP - 001 has “magic” , a reality bender, of sorts. Samples and papers given by SCP - 001 indicate her abilities to be within our understanding of reality, using the same rules anyone can supposedly do similar acts however according to the subject. “The barrier ain’t opened yet”.

This registration is written in mocking of the SCP foundation by SCP - 001, the following are various data points by record of SCP - 001.

Addendum -01:

Dr Andrews:

[console initiated by user 0.]

[set metadata to “narrative” by user 0]

[override control by user 0 from order O1]

[console deinitiated]

My name is Nathan Andrews. Class 3 designated researcher of the SCP foundation. I have been assigned a desk by one "Black" a "operative" or "agent" of the "Wolves". This is due to my request for a way to communicate with the O1. For the most bizarre of reasons, the device provided does not accept the standards of the SCP foundation, rather a strange mix between personal and impersonal talk.

I've been granted a keyboard, mouse and monitor. Sitting in what appears to be Black's cubicle, various photos and memorabilia from his personal life. But beside the point.

Skimming the files, cloaked in shadows to the camera. 01 taps the recording. Three disks, each with a sticky note labelling them 1-5. The first one began to play as he skimmed reports.

"A decade ago."

Australian. Western side, mix of Chinese and Malay dialect. Female.

"One Nathan Andrews vanished from the SCP foundation campus. I am the result. Mr Michael."

He froze, the recording beginning to laugh.

"Made you pause huh? Pansy little fuckwit. This is a recording Mr Michaels. And your organisation is a speck. I am Triage. Rank. Corporal. Your organisation works to keep normalcy, your. Administrator. They're one of my agents. Or maybe that's a lie? Who knows. The following files and other two CDs are... a kind of message. We are the Wolves. And you sir. Are welcome to try to Secure. Contain. Protect. I'll see you in Hell."

Click.

The CD dropped out of the player, grasping his papers. As he picked the CD.

Pardoning that. I guess I'll try to explain what occured.

It'd happen again. At this point. Nobody was surprised. SCP - 682 had breached containment. Unfortunately a meteor falling towards the earth had begun it's descent faster and faster as it changed directory. Anaesthetics immediately deployed to all civilians in the near vicinity as Nathan Andrews ran from the enraged monster.

Frankly speaking, he was surprised he even got that far. A researcher in the organisation who worked his way upwards simply by acting as a safe guard for every upper position, the track runner sprinting for his life as the hateful lizard roared at the human.

BOOM

The earth exploded, throwing him over himself as something tackled the lizard to the ground. Roaring in outrage and anger, the flaming figure began to. Beat down against the lizard? Slamming fists harder and harder, her hands burning bright orange as she smashed the reptile's head in.

"- I SAID QUIT IT YOU LANKY FUCKER! I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK IF THATS YOUR PREY. STAY DOWN YOU CHEEKY LITTLE... Oh."

The Australian accented thing looked at the human, dagger in one hand, riding the dead corpse as the top of her ears perked. Black haired, Asian looking, the rumbling of a truck echoing towards him.

"... Hmm. Can't exactly leave this here- mortal did see me... OI. FUCK OFF YOU CUNT!"

Throwing the dagger into a tree, seemingly nothing as the anomaly ripped the dagger back to her hand.

Spitting onto the corpse, she walked towards the researcher.

CLICK.

Pistol aimed at her head, the humanoid looked down at the gun.

"... what's your plan here?"

BANG.

What birds were frozen in fear flapped off, mobile forces glancing up at the mass of birds. The researcher's borrowed pistol firing multiple more times into the air with a hint of red vanishing as it flew into the heavens.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG-

BFFT.

Holding the gun's muzzle in her hand, an eyebrow raised as she picked the bullets out her body.

"Ow."

Sarcastically, she flung the pistol onto the reptile. It snorting as she shouted back at it.

"NEMEN POSWI LACKA YOU HORINI. LOVNAJSUYA HEWMI THOSE FUCKS YOU NEMEN!"

Kicking the regenerating corpse, seeming to spur the lizard into a scowl as it started towards the trucks.

Dragging himself away, something ripping into his back, pain coursing through his body as the sound of ripping played behind him. Throwing him out into, something. The reality behind him left far behind.

[no-rest-for-the-doomed]

#001: Doom (1993)

Okay okay, I know the picture says Ultimate Doom but it's pretty much the only official release floating around out there these days.

Doom needs no further explanation - you're a marine for the UAC, fighting demons on space techbases and Hell. This blog is primarily going to be used for PWADs, and will assume you know what the hell a PWAD even is, among other basic Doom terminology; that being said, I just did a first-ever for me in this game, that being an UV-max (100% kills and secrets) pistol starts saveless run of Episodes 1-3. Episode 4 is kicking my ass at the moment, that'll get its own article, but this is just really an intro post to get things off the ground and going. I can't really talk about anything that hasn't been said, because people far more talented than I have already said it all. Doom is a masterpiece of gaming, and while most custom PWADs for the franchise are for Doom II, its sequel, I still find charm in playing around with the base shotgun with no upgrade and a limited bestiary.

Bio's rating: How the fuck have you not played this yet?

[fictionkin-hell]

☆Daniil Playlist for Daniil Anon!☆

With indie and modern rock! (I tried)

♪001 Little Pistol - Mother Mother

♪002 Dr.Sunshine Is Dead - Will Wood

♪003 Wine Red - The Hush Sound

♪004 Saint Bernard - Lincoln

♪005 Secret - The Pierces

♪006 Dirty Night Clowns - Chris Garneau

♪007 Runs in the Family - Amanda Palmer

♪008 Blah Blah Blah - The Oozes

♪009 Body Terror Song - AJJ

♪010 64 Little White Things - Cake Bake Betty

♪011 The Beer - Kimya Dawson (All the TWs for this song btw)

♪012 Blue Lips - Regina Spektor

[infinitcnexus]

Loot Box Opened, You obtained: Jasper's Canik Mete, SN: 001. A wonderful full size pistol with a holosun pistol sight.

Send "Loot Box Opened, You obtained: ______" And add any item you want. My muse will give their reaction to finding said Item.

(I will go with Shrike for this since you didn't specify a muse)

Shrike examined the firearm he received from the mysterious sender with curiosity and confusion, caressing it carefully in his hands as he looked down the sight. Judging from its appearance alone, the forger behind this weapon certainly didn't skim on quality or reliability. However, even if he was by no means a lousy shot, a gun wouldn't fit well with his melee-oriented fighting style. A missed bullet would attract more attention in comparison to a relatively quiet whiff.

The imp placed the handgun back into the box and closed it. Maybe he or someone else could find a better use for the weapon.

[mafiaheiress]

I LOVE THAT RUSH when he folds me into his arms & i can let out a sigh of relief, knowing i'm SAFE there. always.

ISABELLA & PIERCE EDITS ╱ 001. featuring @pistolism

[greensparty]

Album Review: Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros “Joe Strummer 002: The Mescalero Years”

When you're the leader of The Clash, finding you're next act can be a tough act to follow, but as I've said before, I actually think some of Joe Strummer's solo work is just as good and in some cases better than The Clash. I know that's a bold statement but it's true. After Strummer died in 2002, I picked up the posthumously released Streetcore album he did with his band The Mescaleros. It was my #1 album of 2003 and one of the best of the 2000s. Over time I've discovered The Mescaleros and the band’s 1999 debut Rock Art and the X-Ray Style is quite good. In 2018 I got to review the compilation Joe Strummer 001 and was truly blow away by the sheer amount of 5-star music Strummer put out post-Clash. I mean Wow! In 2021 I got to review the single disc compilation Assembly, also quite good even though it doesn't dig as deep. Earlier this year I got to review the anniversary edition of Clash's Combat Rock. All of these serve to remind us how ahead of his time Strummer was with his call for equality in his lyrics and using the punk sound along with world sounds, the music still holds up, especially in 2022! Now the music of The Mescaleros is getting the box set treatment on Joe Strummer 002: The Mescalero Years, recently released on Dark Horse Records, the label of George Harrison, now run by Olivia and Dhani Harrison.

box set cover

Disc 1 of this box set is Rock Art and the X-Ray Style. When the album was first released in 1999, it marked Strummer’s first proper album since 1989 and was released on Tim Armstrong’s label Hellcat Records. The band was super tight, especially guitarist Anthony Genn and bassist Scott Shields complimenting Strummer’s style. Always dug this album! Disc 2 is Global a Go-Go. I missed this album when it was first released in 2001, but many of the songs I’ve become a big fan of via compilations they have appeared on since then. Some of the songs appeared on some movie and TV soundtracks too. Disc 3 is Streetcore. Recorded in 2002 before Strummer’s death, Mescaleros Martin Slatterly and Scott Shields completed the album for the posthumous release in 2003. I listened to this a ton throughout the 00s and for my money it is just as good if not better than some Clash albums. Easily. Still sounds amazing! Disc 4 is Vibes Compass, a collection of B-sides and rarities. It’s mostly demos and early versions of songs that made it onto the three albums, but some highlights include “Ocean of Dreams” featuring Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols (kinda cool to have these two U.K. punk icons on one song) and their cover of Johnny Rivers’ “Secret Agent Man”.

the vinyl edition of the box set

Now you’re probably wondering, if one was a fan of The Mescaleros and already own those three albums, why buy this box set? Disc 4 is definitely a cool treat for the fans. The remastering of those three albums from Paul Hicks definitely elevates the already great music. But the biggest reason to buy this is the packaging. The 72-page book is filled with handwritten lyrics and notes from Strummer, awesome photos, insightful liner notes and rare drawings from Strummer. This is such a cool gift (or stocking stuffer) for Strummer fans and it’s about time The Mescaleros got a box set of this caliber!

For info on The Mescalero Years: https://shop.joestrummer.com/products/joe-strummer-002-the-mescaleros-years-4cd

4.5 out of 5 stars

[territri]

Angry giant nerd

Angry giant nerd full#

I need a gif of 001 from Stranger Things angry as all get out because that. This is definitely not worth the trouble, but Im angry at it now.

Angry giant nerd full#

BTW, wear half plate, full plate doesn't work with Rage. Skywing Knights HomepageSkywings BlogPosts Tagged My Giant Nerd Boyfriend. Congratulations, Giant Nerd: Read Every Book AchievementsBooksSaveb.json says Ive. Enlarge/Reduce can put you up to kaiju size to fight a giant Rob. Repeating shot to put on either a Hand Crossbow, Laser Pistol or Antimatter Rifle, depending on which of the many light guns you're using. An Amulet of Health should give you more HP and a better concentration bonus on spells like Haste, if you're not using your Rage ability and mostly just using your dakka. I may not be the biggest fan of the Angry Video Game Nerd, but I’ve seen enough of the web series to get a good idea of what the Nerd is all about.I enjoy some aspects of. Belt of Hill Giant Strength and Arcane Propulsion Armour (Power Glove) is good for close range punching, especially when combined with Rage, put Enhanced Defence on a shield aka the LJN Roll and Rocker, get a Cloak of Protection for the Power Pad you wear on your back, dedicate Artificer lvls 12 and 16 to Dexterity and at Artificer lvl 19, grab the Sharpshooter feat. Grab the Infiltrator model for your Konami Laserscope, it uses Intelligence which should be capped at total lvl 9. Lots of guns, the Zapper, the Laser-Scope, all of that.)Īthlete feat (+1 Strength, running long jumps and standing from prone only requires 5ft of movement and climbing doesn't require any extra movement.) Strength 13 (The man can punch pretty hard and his games see him doing a lot of jumping and platforming.)ĭex and Int 15 (His tinkering skills are so crazy he made a controller for Gyromite after ROB failed him and even a Beat a Game button. Wisdom and Charisma 8 (He has alcohol and anger problems, also he spends all his time in his man cave with little to no human interaction and every 3 to 5 words in his dialogue is a profanity.)Ĭonstitution 12 (He can hold his drink quite well and is never seen to suffer from liver failure.)