#repurposed soldier unit

[girlactionfigure]

This is Lt. Col. Yarden, a batallion commander currently fighting in Gaza.On 10/7 she woke up in her home in southern Israel to the sound of sirens and hid with her family, but then heard her base was under attack. She got in her car, picked up 4 of her soldiers on the way, and drove towards danger. On the way she realized terrorists are all over the roads. She called her husband and told him to take their 3 kids somewhere safe.

They arrived at the base, directing other soldiers along the way on what routes should be avoided because they are infested with terrorists. When they arrived, the force she led killed at least 10 Hamas terrorists. 

The fighting that began in the morning lasted all day, until they eliminated the threat and evacuated the other soldiers.

In the meantime, dozens of her soliders (male and female) in the search and rescue unit decided to make their way independently to the southern town of Ofakim, where they began rescuing civilians.

Lt. Col. Yarden is the first female batallion commander operating in enemy territory. Her team is creative and adaptive - In Gaza, they are taking their S&R expertise and tools and repurposing them to uncover terrorists. Apparently they are so good that infantry commanders are fighting over who will get to use them.

She doesn't seem too interested in talking about being a female commander, or the fact that she leads a mixed-gender unit. All that matters is how good the soldiers are, she says. And they’re very good. (story from @yoavzitun

[internetskiff]

Ohhh man do I have words to say about Crowbar Collective's Half Life 1 Remake

I notice the Black Mesa remake seems to be quite divisive, at least amongst the people I've spoken to. While I do understand some of the problems it has, I do believe it's a really stellar remake, especially when it comes to reimagining Half Life 1's frankly underwhelming xen levels.

I've seen people argue that Black Mesa's a little over-reliant on the Half Life 2 callbacks, especially with the Nihilanth's base of operations being a massive tower at the center of Xen's island mass. But personally? I think it's quite fitting for the Nihilanth. Even in Half Life 1, it seems to be in the process of trying to develop a "Unity" of it's own, increasing it's influence in the hopes that it can join enough species together to combat the Universal Union as it continues to hunt it down through worlds. I'd assume if it succeeded in fleeing to Earth, it would seek aid from the humans in developing equipment and weaponry that could counter the Combine, be it diplomatically or through forceful subjugation. Seeing as it's seeking to unify different species in order to resist it's oppressor, I believe it's quite fitting for Nihilanth's base of operations to be a sort of "Citadel" of it's own.

The Nihilanth resorting to imitating Combine equipment in the hopes of countering them is almost similar to how Half Life 2's Resistance Movement also repurposes Combine tech for it's own purposes, no? While yeah, this is definitely a cheeky nod to Episode 1's Reactor Sequence, it does make lore sense and technically helps characterize the Nihilanth's forces as a sort of desperate imitation of the Combine. They both use other species as pawns to further their plans (this is true even in the original HL1), which goes to show that in it's attempts to evade the Union the Nihilanth became almost exactly like them.

The Gonarch, for example - she seems to be deliberately kept around and permitted to nest in the outer expanses of the Nihilanth's island, almost acting as a sort of guard dog and, perhaps, the first line of defense. It has Garguantuas at it's disposal - it could have easily killed the Gonarch if she proved a detriment to it. But it doesn't. Infact, it seems to lament when it perishes - "Done, what have you done?"

And this brings us to the Tower itself, the Nihilanth's base of operations and the main production facility for it's foot soldiers. I have already touched on the parallels between it and the Combine's Citadel, but I do believe it's almost a clever mirror to it - both appear to be alive, but while the Combine force organic matter into an artificially constructed monolith to bring it to life, the Tower itself seems to be a living organism, the infrastructure within seemingly designed to aid it's bodily functions. The Citadel is parasitic in nature, a mere extension of the will of those that built it, but the relationship between the Tower and it's architect seems entirely symbiotic. Both, however, seem to have quite a detrimental terraforming effect on the surrounding environment.

With the context of Half Life 2, I consider the Alien Grunts to be the Nihilanth's response to the Universal Union's many heavily augmented units. A little disappointing that they didn't really touch upon how exactly they are created, but I guess any interpretation they could do could potentially end up being incorrect to Half Life 1's canon, so they kept the process mostly vague. I personally like to think they're cultivated from heavily influenced samples of Vortigaunt tissue, rather than being Vorts themselves altered through some sort of unknown process. Despite certainly being higher up in the chain of command compared to Vortigaunts, it doesn't seem like their lives are any better - any Grunt with a defect or abnormality is shown to be thrown into a literal meatgrinder, and apart from the ones overseeing the Vortigaunt workers they appear to be almost immediately geared up and sent to fight on Earth. This technically explains why their AI behavior is a little more complex in the Nihilanth tower compared to the ones sent to fight on Earth - it's possible the ones overseeing the tower had lived much longer compared to the infantry sent to overtake Black Mesa, and have thus further developed their proficiency with handling their Hivehand weaponry and navigating the Tower's vertical environment. The Grunts we fight on Earth might have, quite literally, come right off the production line only to be immediately sent out.

The Vortigaunts themselves seem to have been reduced from a once culturally rich species to one doing laborious tasks around the Tower and providing support to the Grunts during the invasion. I wonder if, at some point, the Nihilanth and the Vortigaunts established a union willingly, only for the Nihilanth to grow increasingly more oppressive as it grew more and more desperate to escape re-capture by the Combine. Perhaps at one point they saw eachother as equal - both united against a common enemy that sees great value in exploiting both: the Vortigaunts for their Vortessence and the Nihilanth for it's psychic abilities and the power to teleport things not only between worlds, but also specific points of interest in said worlds - capturing and subjugating it would instantly solve the Combine's local transportation problem. They needed it alive - after all, it was the last of it's kind.

Finishing Xen in Half Life 1, I didn't even stop as I reached the Nihilanth's portal, just kinda rushing in to kill it and be done with the game. But this? This made me stop and stare for a good while. Reaching the Nihilanth's portal actually had the sense of finality it was always meant to have. What you're about to do is doom several species to the threat of extinction - completely wiping one out, and opening the doorway for the Combine to subjugate humanity. It's really amazing finally seeing the end of this Remake's development cycle, over a decade of work culminating in this moment. There were people who thought they would never even remake Xen at all - for a good while, this game ended right as Freeman jumps into the Lambda Core's portal. And now, after years, here you are - standing at the foot of another, preparing to kill the thing on the other side and allow an even greater horror to force it's way into your world.

I really love the remade fight with the Nihilanth - it starts out gloating, laughing as it throws barrages of pure energy at you from the safety of it's shield. Once you break down the generators powering it, however, it seems to grow a little more concerned and confused, upping the intensity of it's assault but remaining relatively confident.

The moment all of it's countermeasures fail, though? It completely freaks out. It throws everything at you, summoning a storm inside of it's chamber and tearing everything up in the hopes you'll be killed in the chaos. It grows increasingly unstable, it's head splitting apart, it's attempts to stop Freeman quite literally tearing it apart from within. As he lands the killing blow, this culminates in the Nihilanth erupting in a destructive blast that wipes everything it's built up from Xen as a whole.

The G-man pulls you out just as you're about to be incinerated, impressed with your efforts and offering you a new job proposal - y'know, seeing how your original workplace is a bit.. Incinerated.

While yes, of course, it's not exactly canon-friendly to Half Life - how could it ever be, as a fan-made project - I do find Black Mesa's interpretation of Xen to be quite impressive from a storytelling perspective. Unlike the original barren floating islands, you can really tell that the remake's Xen has a history - many different species coming together to create an ecosystem in this borderworld where no creature was ever meant to linger, only to be wiped out by a single theoretical physicist wielding a crowbar and an arsenal of military weaponry.

It's fitting that this retelling of Half Life 1's story was finally completed right before Valve finally returned to their franchise with Half Life: Alyx.

[life-in-the-garden]

Jar Spell: Spirit's Freedom

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron is a 2002 animated movie about a young mustang stallion in 19th century western America. After growing up as a wild horse, he is captured by white soldiers of the United States Cavalry and “broken” to bear a saddle and rider before making his escape with a Lakota youth named Little Creek. He bears witness to the abuse that horses suffer as a great railroad is being built, and finally runs free again with his herd after falling in love with a mare named Rain. This jar spell channels Spirit’s yearning for freedom from oppression, abuse, and confinement, and is ideal for anyone seeking emotional help with breaking free from an abusive home, job, or relationship. (Please see the “Notes” section at the end for mundane resources related to escaping abusive situations).

You will absolutely need:

a small vessel with a lid (a pill bottle or spice shaker works just fine)

sealing wax (ideally blue or white) or liquid glue

Once you have your vessel, add some ingredients related to wild horses running free and/or your conception of what freedom means. Some suggested ingredients that you may or may not include depending on your preferences are:

a clipping of hair from a horse’s mane or tail

a feather from a wild bird (for flight and freedom)

1-3 horse-themed bracelet charms but NOT horseshoe charms (horseshoes symbolize being tamed)

sea salt (for the wildness of the ocean)

dried flower heads from flowering weeds (for defiance)

peppercorns and/or ground black/red pepper (for defiance)

Directions:

Cleanse your vessel if it is repurposed or you feel a need to cleanse it, then add your ingredients but do not seal it just yet. In a quiet, private place and with your filled vessel nearby, ponder the nature of your confinement and the liberation you hope to achieve. Ruminate on the steps you will need to take in order to gain your freedom—this could be searching for a new job, locating a place of sanctuary in which to take refuge, reaching out to a friend or loved one for assistance, and much more. Use this time to emotionally fortify yourself.

When you are ready, use the wax or liquid glue to seal the vessel. This seals your intention of escape and liberation from whatever circumstances confine you. If you keep faith to a spirit or deity you wish to call upon for assistance in your endeavor, you may do so at this point. Keep your sealed vessel in a safe place until you have made your escape.

When you have taken flight and made your escape, break the seal and scatter the organic ingredients in a wild, free place. If using inorganic ingredients such as metal or plastic bracelet charms, it is ideal to thank, cleanse, and save the charms for another use.

Notes:

Magic can be a useful tool, but it doesn’t work all on its own. If you make no effort to get yourself out of a quagmire, then of course this spell (and any other) is going to fail. That said, you are not alone in your struggles. Please feel free to use any of the resources below that are applicable to your circumstances.

The United States’ national domestic violence hotline is 800-799-7233. You can also connect to help via SMS by messaging the word START to 88788. Their website is here.

In all 50 states of the USA, as well as in Washington DC and Puerto Rico, you can dial 211 to be connected to a social worker. Please note that calling 211 doesn’t need to be used solely for discussing the escape of an abusive situation; you can also dial this number for general healthcare and mental health resources that are local to your area. You can learn more here.

The United Kingdom’s national domestic violence hotline is 0808-2000-247. There is also an online chat that can be accessed here.

[katherinegaymes]

A little bit of dark microfiction i wrote in a discord server

(CW really dark, treated as property, rape, forced impreg) : A mechanical soldier fighting in a war it has no say in. They said that life was too precious for any blood to be spilt, and as far as the military is concerned you are just property. Low on battery, and low on supplies. You are the last bot running in your unit. The rest have been dismantled and taken in as scrap by the enemy. You were promised more supplies when you capture the enemy outpost…but you aren't sure if you can anymore. While you try to be stealthy, they set off a 'defensive' EMP blast that renders you unconcious. You awaken in their lair, strapped down to a table. The footsoldiers are stroking themselves to your naked body while the enemy general eyes you like prey. "Good evening, doll. It is so lovely to see you~ Im going to give you a choice: either you can get dismantled as scrap or repurposed to serve us." Your battery is running dangerously low and you dont have much time to think. Your programming forces you to consider the mission, which cant continue without you, so you need to survive. "You may use me," you say reluctantly. She licks her lips and grabs your waist with her claws. "I was hoping you would say that ". Her big throbbing knot rubs against your port and threatens to break you and you are powerless to do anything to stop her. She forces herself onto you and roughly breeds you like the fucktoy you are. After a few minutes of having your ports pounded, she fills you with her seed. "Take good care of that, my good little incubator. There will be more where that came from~"

[zarvasace]

More Than You Can Chew

(febuwhump day 12, I like this one!)

Summary: At the end of the Roaring Twenties, Warriors has to come clean about his vampirism so they can track down who kidnapped Wind.

Prompt: "Can you hear me?" Warriors POV, Wind-centric. Historical setting, vampires, blood and gore. 4k words, rating this Mature for gratuitous violence near the end. This is very dumb and so much fun. Set in 1931 America. CWs for the gore and WWI trauma. :) AO3 link!

---

Warriors pulled his hat off as he ducked through the bar's front door. Conversation and laughter nearly drowned out the record playing near the wall, some popular singer he didn't know. A haze hung low in the air from all the pipes and cigars. Warriors just held his breath. 

A few people called out at him, and he gave them his best smile and a wave before heading into the back rooms. If his heart was in the habit of beating, it would be in the running for a race. 

He felt the tension as soon as he entered the club room in the back. The others looked up when he arrived. 

"Anything?" Time asked, standing at the head of the repurposed, paper-strewn pool table with his hands behind his back. He'd loosened his tie, and he didn't seem to notice the coffee stain on his white sleeve. 

"Yes," Warriors responded before he could back out. 

Hyrule perked up from where he sat in the corner with Wild, both of them fussing over a table laden with Bunsen burners and beakers. A concerning stream of colored vapor rose into the air from one of their experiments. Their experiments looked like magic, sometimes.

"What did you find?" Hyrule said.

Warriors shrugged his jacket off and hung it up beside the door, trying to collect his buzzing thoughts and delay the inevitable. He pulled out one of the mismatched chairs and sank down into it, rubbing at his mouth. He should've had something to drink before coming, perhaps that would've calmed his nerves. 

"It's bad, isn't it?" Sky asked quietly, noticing the hesitation. Next to him, Twilight pressed his lips together, looking up from the map of the city. Four took a break from writing and sat back to wipe at the inkstains on his fingers, waiting for Warriors to begin. Legend similarly looked up from his knitting—he'd never quite gotten over the childhood wartime habit. 

"It's not good, no," Warriors responded. He had everyone's attention, now. No backing out, he reminded himself. His words seemed to leave him, and the only thing that came out was—"Wind is older than me."

Legend stared at him. "Hyrule, check him over, I think he hit his head."

"No, I'm being serious." Warriors shook his head at himself. "I'm sorry. That was an awful way to begin."

"Do you know where Wind is?" Twilight asked impatiently. "Yes or no?" 

"I have important context for his disappearance. It'll lead us to him, eventually. Or, just me, I don't… if you…"

"Warriors. Spit it out," Time interrupted. Steel glinted in his eye, a far cry from the scared young adult Warriors remembered meeting in France. 

Under that gaze, Warriors found himself sitting straighter, despite the memories. The others knew he'd fought in the Great War, same as Time had, though they didn't know the extent of it. Warriors appeared too young to have been a soldier, at least one who hadn't lied about his age. He knew Sky had, in order to get in at the end.

"Yes, sir. This is going to sound a little bit crazy, everyone, but you need to bear with me. Time, you may not remember, but in your very first unit as a soldier, I was in command." Warriors watched the confusion float over Time's face, echoed in a few others around the table. "When that slew of reorganization came through, you transferred out, and Wind transferred in."

"What?" Sky asked slowly. "Wind wasn't even born then, Wars." 

"I know what it sounds like, Sky. Look, I knew he had to be too young to have been honest on the enlistment form, but there he was, and we needed people, so I didn't push it. I just made sure to watch for him, and got a bit attached, I admit. He was always a reckless kid." He got a few snorts from that. Four looked thoughtful, though most of the others still frowned like they thought Warriors was insane. 

He continued. "We were in the trenches. Our unit was scattered, I was terrified they'd throw in some gas, and all I could focus on was finding Wind." Warriors smelled dust as he remembered. Dust and blood. "I found him, alive apparently, covered in blood. I managed to tackle him before he got hit with shrapnel from a shell. I got hit with it instead, felt the bits lodge in my lungs. I was definitely going to die. He screamed at me for saving his life, but what was I supposed to do?" 

"Wars," Time said in warning. The lamps tossed darker shadows over his face than usual. 

Warriors shook his head and tried to get to the point. "To make a short story even shorter, he asked me if I wanted him to save my life. Instead of dying that night, as I perhaps should have, I stopped aging."

"What are you saying?" Wild asked. He'd wandered over to listen to the story. 

"Wind and I are vampires, and I think his recent disappearance has to do with that."

The sudden silence in the room pressed in on Warriors's eardrums. He felt like the static in his head would become visible any second now. He had no idea how they'd react, though based on past evidence, he was mildly confident it wouldn't be with metaphorical pitchforks. Or literal ones. Honestly, he'd be somewhat impressed if they found literal pitchforks out here in the city. 

"Hm… that changes a few things about our theories." Four broke the silence, picking up a red pencil and standing on his chair to reach over the table. He drew a few confident lines, dividing the city map into pieces. 

Wild tapped one of the lines. "Move this over to Emerald Street, that treaty was signed last week."

"Oh, was it?" Four erased that border and redrew it where Wild indicated. "I didn't think the Eldins would capitulate."

"They didn't," Twilight said, "until the Farons increased the offer, something like two hundred thousand total." 

"Hm, that's more than I expected."

Warriors let out an entirely mortifying squeak. "How the hell do you three know so much about recent vampire politics? Four, those are the clan territories!" 

"Obviously. You don't get very far in the supernatural side of the city without working around them." Four finished his edits to the map and stood back. 

"Okay." Time held up his hands and took a visible breath. "I think we need to reevaluate. If you are aware of the supernatural in this city, and were before this conversation, raise your hand."

Warriors did so, of course. Four, Wild, Twilight were unsurprising after the recent conversation. Time, Sky, and Hyrule followed. 

Legend burst out laughing and dropped a knitting needle to raise his own hand. "I was wondering when this would happen! We've all been hiding each other from each other, and it's been hilarious."

"You knew?" Twilight asked, dropping his hand. "And you never said anything?" 

"I tried," Legend responded. He picked his knitting back up. "But you all brushed me off. I gave up. I asked Wind what was in his flask once. He told me it was vodka."

"It usually is vodka," Warriors said. His brain began to work again. 

Wild tilted his head. "Not blood?" 

"No, that's disgusting, stored like that, and barely does anything for you."

"Oh. Storing it works for me." 

Warriors narrowed his eyes in utter bafflement. 

"Half," Wild said by way of explanation. He shrugged. "My father's side. Hateno clan."

"Huh." Warriors crossed his arms. "Well, to get us back to the point—I recently learned that hunter activity has been increasing subtly the last few months, and I know where a few of their lairs are."

Sky looked startled. "You think hunters have him?" 

"That's an unfortunate conclusion," Time said, leaning over the table to stare at the new version of the map, "but I don't think you're wrong. Mark where those lairs are, if you would, Warriors." 

With a nod, Warriors stood and got to work. As they talked and adjusted their ideas, their true natures came out bit by bit. Hyrule and Time were partly fae, with Four and Legend different sorts of almost-fae as well. Sky had strong air elemental ancestry, and ties to that community. Wild was, as he'd said, half-vampire, and Twilight was his cousin on the human side. 

It was relieving to hear Wild make a pun about blood-sucking and the laughter that followed. Even in his wildest dreams, Warriors had never imagined such an outcome. The best he'd hoped for was a ready acceptance and curiosity, but that had felt out of reach. Although he was worried for Wind, Warriors's hope in a successful rescue grew.

They made a plan to find and save Wind. 

---

It took two more days, but through a combination of investigation and good, old-fashioned breaking and entering, the eight of them figured out where Wind would be. The restaurant was a good place to hold secret vampire hunter meetings, Warriors thought. At several floors tall, it had many hiding spots, and the clatter of patrons and the kitchen would hide most sounds of a struggle. Nobody would blink twice at people visiting often, either, unlike a brothel or a bank. 

Time, Twilight, and Wild had entered earlier, getting a table and smuggling in a tiny, winged Hyrule in Time's jacket, and Four inside Twilight's shadow. Legend sat outside watching the exits and keeping an eye out. He said he knew a guy for a getaway vehicle, so they let him work that part out. Sky and Warriors snuck in through the maintenance entrance, gaining surprisingly easy access. They wandered the halls with aprons and brooms, looking like they knew where they were going. 

"This feels too easy," Sky muttered. "We're in a hunter's den and we just waltzed right in."

Warriors winced and took the next turn, following the faint smell of blood. "Don't remind me. I keep worrying that some light will go off somewhere and an alarm will sound and all the doors will lock and someone will start screaming about vampires."

"We're all here with you. You have nothing to worry about."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but there is rather a lot to worry about at the moment. Have you seen anyone yet?" Warriors paused as a woman in a long coat passed, stalking more than walking down the hall. He caught a glimpse of silvery weapons under that coat, but she didn't glance at them as she swept past. 

Once she left, Sky answered. "No. Not yet. Of course, I'm not exactly practiced at looking for fairies and shadows, so I could have missed them."

Warriors stumbled just a little when the scent he followed changed abruptly. He regained his balance and picked up the pace. "He's this way."

"How do you know?" Sky hurried to catch up. "You can smell him?" 

"Yes. I've been following a faint trail of blood, but this is unmistakably Wind. I'd know his scent anywhere." Warriors walked slower past the next few doors, and his patience was rewarded with a dim hallway hidden behind one of them. It was silent back here. 

Sky closed the door behind them. "You said he saved your life. He turned you into a vampire?"

"Yes. It was painful."

"I'm sorry." Sky got the hint and dropped the subject. 

"Ugh, everything back here reeks," Warriors complained, "The trail is muddied too much to follow."

"The hallway isn't so long, we can listen at each door and open them if we have to."

Warriors took the right side, and Sky took the left, pausing at every door. Though Sky said to listen, the oppressive silence amplified the sounds of their clothing and Sky's breathing until that was all Warriors could hear. Sky could hear very well, so he listened, while Warriors relied more on his nose, even with all the ambient scent throwing him off. 

Near the end of the hallway, Sky sucked in a breath. "Wars. This one."

They put their brooms down. Warriors was the one to try the door handle. Upon finding it locked, he attempted to break the wood with his elbow, but only succeeded in taking off a few splinters. It must have been reinforced. He stepped back, frustrated. 

"Allow me," an unexpected voice said, and Four appeared practically out of nowhere to pull out his lockpicks and crouch in front of the doorknob. 

Sky startled. "Four! Where did you come from? My heart nearly stopped."

"Mine nearly started," Warriors added, mustering a joke but not quite a smile to go along with it. 

Four shook his head in amusement and started wiggling his pins inside the lock. "Hyrule and I have been following you for a while. Hyrule's outside that door back there, holding up a spell to keep people away from here."

"That's handy," Sky said. 

"Mhm." Four lost interest in conversation as he worked. It took a few tense minutes, but soon enough, the lock clicked open, and he smiled. "There."

Warriors put a hand over Four's before he could open the door. "Hold on. I don't know what shape he's in right now, and I know he wouldn't want to hurt anyone. Go tell Hyrule to let one person in, someone we don't mind killing."

Four glanced at him sharply, then seemed to understand. He nodded, and his form under Warriors's fingers melted away into shadows. 

"You stay here," Warriors told Sky, "for the same reason. I doubt they fed him, and having you so close might hurt more than it helps. Whoever Hyrule lets back here, subdue them and toss them in."

Sky looked troubled. "You think we need to kill someone?" 

"Like I said, I doubt they fed him. He's a vampire. He needs blood. Depending on how much they hurt him, he could need an entire adult to come back to himself." Warriors tried to impress the severity of the situation to Sky through his gaze, and Sky backed down.

"I… suppose there are worse places to find a victim than a vampire hunter's den." 

Warriors nodded, then took a breath and slipped into the room.

The single small window had been blocked first with paint, and then with several boards nailed onto it from the other side, letting in no light. Besides the blood-streaked floral wallpaper and bare floorboards, the room was devoid of any decoration. A chain hung from a closed hook bolted into the ceiling, trailing down to wind on the floor like a coiled snake. The chain ended in a pair of small manacles, locked around thin wrists. 

Warriors hurried to Wind's side, kneeling down and gathering him up in his arms. He had a split lip and discolored throat, and his blue shirt had been torn down the side. His skin was cold in Warriors's hands, which told him right away that Wind had to be starving. No real heartbeat, no breath, no signs of life except for the very slight fluttering of his eyelids. 

"Wind? Can you hear me?" Warriors asked quietly. "Don't fall asleep for twenty years again, like you said you did that one time. Come on, kid." 

Wind made a soft noise in his throat and stirred. He opened one eye. "Wars? Mm… not a kid."

"Yeah, I know, you're a very powerful vampire, born sixteen-ninety-whatever, grew up in the Golden Age of Piracy, I get it. You remember that, right?"

"Mhm. 'Course. Tired."

Warriors lifted him up a bit as he heard a scuffle outside. "How about hungry?" 

"Not thinkin' about that." 

The door opened, and Sky appeared. He hauled an older man into the room by the arms, straining a bit to drag the weight. Warriors wasn't very hungry, but the scent of the man's bleeding head wound hit him hard, especially against the stale smell permeating this room in particular. 

Wind groaned and turned to hide his face in Warriors's shirt. "Go 'way, Sky."

Sky hesitated, but Warriors impatiently gestured him and the body in. "He just doesn't want to hurt you."

"That's not a reason to come closer!" Sky said, though he continued to pull the man toward Wind. 

The nearer he got, the tighter Wind held onto Warriors, who winced at the trust. It wasn't that he planned on breaking it, of course not, it was just odd to play this side of it. Wind had held him back from indulging his baser instincts more than once, when he was figuring things out. The bloodlust was hard to fight, and Warriors knew how strong Wind had to be to keep his head and not attack Sky right there. Warriors kept a hand on Wind's head.

"Where do you want him?" Sky panted, once he'd successfully dragged the man within five feet. 

"Drop him there and go."

Sky hesitated, but he dropped the man's arms. "Do you need anything else?" 

"We're fine." Warriors hugged Wind a little closer and gave Sky his best smile. It felt like a wince. "We've done this before."  

"Right. We'll make sure the way out is clear." Sky left, just a little hesitant. 

Once the door shut again, Warriors relaxed his hold on Wind. "There we go. Take as much as you want."

Wind had moved beyond the point of understanding words. As soon as Warriors let him go, he pounced, chain rattling as he attacked the man. 

Warriors sat back and let him at it. Wind had never been a very clean eater, for as long as Warriors had known him, but he always went out of his way to try to not hurt whoever he took blood from. He'd passed on a few of his techniques to Warriors, who'd adopted a similar strategy. 

Right now, Wind was too far gone to bother with any of that. If the man hadn't been dead before, he definitely was now, with his throat half-ripped out and the rest of him quickly exsanguinated. 

After several minutes, Wind slowed, and soon stopprf. He hung his head over the bloody corpse for a few long seconds, then pushed himself to his feet and turned to face Warriors. 

In the dim light, with half his face and front soaked with fresh blood, his bruises healing with the excess running through his veins, Wind looked every inch the two-hundred-year-old vampire he was. He looked down at the red-slick manacles around his wrists. 

"Four picked the lock to get in here, he can probably pick that one, too," Warriors offered. He stood, too. 

Wind lifted his hands to look at the metal. "He doesn't need to." Two sharp pops rang out through the room, and the manacles dropped to the ground. Wind adjusted his broken thumbs back into place with his teeth and allowed them to heal. 

Warriors rolled his eyes. "That's unnecessary. You were just starving."

"Well, now I'm not starving or chained up." Wind offered a bright smile, and something in Warriors's stomach loosened. This was probably barely a blip on Wind's meter of inconveniences. "Did you say Four?" 

"Yes." Warriors opened the door, and Sky stood up straight. 

"Wars! Everything all right?" Sky peeked past Warriors to see Wind, who still stood there in all his bloody glory.

Wind froze, then hesitantly, futilely tried to wipe his chin off with a hand just as red as his face. "Um…"

"It's okay," Warriors told him, looking both ways down the hallway before exiting the room. "I told them all."

"You told them all?" Wind hissed, shoving past Warriors. 

Sky offered Wind a single handkerchief, one clearly soaked by blood before and imperfectly cleaned. It would never be white again. It would also never hold quite as much blood as it would neeed, to clean Wind off. It was a nice gesture anyway. 

"He did," Sky said as Wind narrowed his eyes. "As it turns out, all of us thought we were hiding the supernatural from everyone else."

"You're kidding." Wind hesitated, but took the handkerchief and wiped his mouth off. It only mostly worked.

"Not at all," Warriors confirmed. "Come on, we need to get out." 

Wind crossed his arms as they started back toward the main hallway. "I don't want to just get out, Wars, I wanna burn this place to the ground."

"No. There are civilians here, Wind, it's a restaurant. Someone would notice."

"I've gotten away with arson before," Wind grumbled. 

Warriors shook his head. "Not today."

"There is a fight going on, though." Sky put his hand on the doorknob. "It sounds like Time and Twilight are doing somewhat poorly out there. I don't know where Wild and Hyrule are, but I think Four is avoiding the fight to keep watching."

"How do you know?" Wind asked. "Wait, I can ask later. Don't die so I can ask. First, if there's a fight against these hunters, I'm going to get my revenge. Sweet, cold revenge."

Sky glanced at Warriors with mild concern. 

"That last bit of blood in someone's veins is the strongest," Warriors said by way of explanation. "There are advantages to killing. He'll be riding high on that wave until he burns it out. It's not a bad idea to let him run wild for a bit."

With a shrug and an expression of 'So help me, Wars, I hope you know what you're doing,' Sky opened the door onto a shambles of a fistfight. 

As Sky had thought, Twilight and Time struggled against the vampire hunters and thugs that had gathered in the area. There were more than Warriors had anticipated—more than ten, less than twenty. It wouldn't be an issue with all nine of them, but with only three or four… Twilight held his arm stiffly, and Time was backed into a corner. Four had joined the fight, but some of the hunters' tools were clearly bothering him. Wild was visible down the hall, running toward them with a black frying pan in his hand and a full-sized Hyrule right behind him. 

Wind kicked the door open the rest of the way, banging it against the wall and drawing everyone's attention. He grinned, bloody fangs on full display. 

"Did you know," Wind said, stepping out into the hallway, "that most vampires were killed off in the fifties? The seventeen-fifties, mind you. Hunters like you did their damndest, but could never kill me." The fight had stalled, everyone hypnotized, possibly literally. Warriors had never received a straight answer about that particular rumored ability.

"I'm one of the only old ones left. You know what that means, don't you?" Wind paused as if waiting for an answer, but none came. "You've bitten off more than you can chew, hunters."

The spell broke, and Wind launched himself wholeheartedly into the melee. He laughed as he dug his fingers into sternums and ripped apart ribcages. He tore his teeth into flesh and cracked open skulls like eggs. 

With a full, hopped-up Wind on their side, unafraid to let loose, the tide of the scuffle quickly turned. Despite the carnage, Wind always managed to identify friend from foe. He kept well away from hurting Twilight or Wild or any of the others. Sky and Warriors didn't even bother joining the fight after seeing how it was going. 

Once every enemy had been felled, Wind stood up and threw aside a handful of entrails. They landed on the wall with a wet splat and slid down to the baseboard, leaving a streak of blood. "That's it?" 

"That should be it, for now," Time said, unfazed. "We should go before someone calls the police. Are you all right, Wind? You seem a little… manic."

Wind sucked a bit of blood off of his hand. If Warriors had thought he was bloody before, that was nothing compared to now. It was caked in his hair, and he'd probably start complaining about it once it began to dry. Sky's handkerchief wouldn't even make a dent. "I'm fine. That took care of all the extra energy. I could go for a nap." 

"Come on. Legend should have a ride ready," Sky said, ushering Hyrule and Wild over the mess of body parts. He wrinkled his nose. "We can get everyone baths and a change of clothes." 

"That sounds nice." Wind grabbed Warriors's sleeve and hung on as they headed toward the exit. "You hungry? You could go grab one of those for the road."

"I don't need your leftovers," Warriors said flatly. He smiled easily, though. Wind was always looking out for him. And he'd always look out for Wind. 

Wind scoffed. "Pfft. Picky baby."

---

Ending A/N: Hyrule had to go looking for a guy to kill, and he found some dude yelling at a waitress because she wasn't responding to his solicitations. He deserved to die.

Wind was born 1696 and turned into a vampire around 1710, during the golden age of piacy. He is eternally 14. Sorry, Wind. He mentions vampires dying in the 1750s, and unfortunately that included Tetra and her crew. He's a little bitter about that and will take any chance to get back at hunters for them.

I liked this AU! I might do more with it! :)

[mrbayless]

Yellowjacket Trigger

黄色 - 上着 - 引き金

This is a project I’ve had in my mind for a year now. I initially wrote the concept for all this in my notes app and sketched out all the bits and pieces over the next several months when I had downtime.

I researched a lot of anime and figures to find the right look and style and it was super fun building out this whole world and concept. That core concept being “a team of cute girls who hunt down robot beasts”

Within that world we have UMOD (Universal Mechanoid Observation Division), a branch of the military standing against the robotic beasts and soldiers called Mechanoids that terrorize the planet. The Yellowjackets are an elite team of UMOD soldiers who hunt down Mechanoids.

With that, let me introduce the team:

First up, Izzy! The newest member of the team, she is brash and confident. I wanted someone who was the “loose cannon cop” type. The rockstar. She’s joining an established team so it always helps to have someone that shakes things up. Someone with unconventional methods but gets the job done.

Up next is Catherine, the most skilled member. She’s super serious, because it’s always fun to have that clash of serious with confident. The Murtaugh and Riggs dynamic. She considers herself the leader purely because she’s the longest surviving hunter.

Introducing Anita, one of my favorites. Every team needs to have the cautious and hesitant one who isn’t always keen for combat. Much like Donatello, she is the brains of the bunch, helping with inventions and tech, and the upkeep of Panzer. She’ll fight to protect her team… just at a distance.

This is Olivia, the ditzy dumb sniper. Every good group of characters has to have the classic airhead, this one just happens to be deadly at 800 meters. What she lacks in intelligence she makes up for in deadly accuracy. With most of these designs I had to give into a bit of the style and play with anatomy.

Then we have Dee, an absolute unit of a soldier. She’s the muscle, the heavy, the strong silent type. I was very keen to offset the body types of this team with some muscle. I imagine her being the typically quiet one but when you give her a behemoth machine gun she goes off like a kid with a new toy.

Lastly is Panzer, my favorite element of this whole project! The Mechanoids that the team hunts down are robotic soldiers and animals and Panzer here was one they found and repurposed for their side. As deadly as he is precious and loyal, he stands by the girls day or night. I went a little overboard with his design, adding in seams and panels because A from my research, that’s how you solidify a mecha design, and B I imagine he has quite a bit of firepower tucked away within is body. He is, the goodest of boys.

I have so much more of this concept laid out with Mechanoid designs, various important figures, and a rival group of hunters.

If you guys enjoy this let me know!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

via the summer stock show program again:

WRITER'S NOTES by Cheri Steinkellner | Book & Additional Lyrics

How do you begin to adapt a film like Summer Stock into a stage musical?

Close my eyes and remember what I loved about it when I was a little girl, watching it with my cousin Cathy on the Million Dollar Movie every night for a week and twice on the weekend so we could reenact it beat-for-beat at Sunday family dinner. Key memories include: Singing on a tractor, dancing on a newspaper, and a pink painted sky.

Open my eyes, dig out my Judy Garland boxed-set and watch the DVD.

Close my eyes and re-watch the story on an imagined stage, with a diverse cast, contemporary social values, and a fresh storyline to match.

Open my eyes and write that. Then rewrite it. Then re-re-write, until I hit my deadline and can re-re-re-rewrite no more.

About that deadline: I first got the call in October. They needed a designer draft by January, a workshop draft by March, and a rehearsal draft by June for a July opening. That's fast, even for me, and I started my career in TV where you write and produce a new episode every week. But Summer Stock is all about putting on a show in a barn—so we roll up our sleeves, get up early, stay up late, and get the work—and the play—done!

What has changed from the original and what are the challenges of updating a 1950 film for a modern audience? That feel-good feeling of the original movie is still intact, but story, songs, and characters have all changed to be here now.

STORY: When I first signed on, I was given one mandate: No tractor. Heavy farm machinery wouldn't fit on the Goodspeed stage, so there went the film's whole buy-a-tractor/wreck-a-tractor/fix-a-tractor plotline. This opened up space to answer some of my more burning questions:

Why is Falbury farm at risk?

Why can't Joe get his show to Broadway?

How does a farmgirl like Jane suddenly morph into a triple-threat superstar?

And why is she wearing nothing but a tux jacket and fedora in that pink-sky finale?

As I wrote, more questions popped up: What do you do with a wanna-be actress who doesn't wanna rehearse? Why is a Shakespearean matinee idol starring in a musical in a barn? And what happens when you make show-people wake up at sunrise to muck out the stalls? All of these questions are asked—and I hope answered—in song and dance.

SONGS: The film features nine songs. Most contemporary stage musicals have twenty or more. So building out the score was a task. Some of the film's original songs like "Howdy Neighbor" and "Dig for Your Dinner" are repositioned and repurposed to tell our story. "You Wonderful You" and "Get Happy" have gained back-stories. To fill out the rest of the score, I turned to the Public Domain, where old favorites like "The Best Things in Life are Free," "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows," "Some of These Days," "It Had to Be You," and more, could be tailored to sing in our character's voices. Production numbers like "Paper Moon," "Everybody Step," and "June Night" are newly built on tunes that are nearly a century old, but with Doug Besterman's jazzy, brassy, Woody Herman-inspired arrangements, and Donna Feore's dynamic direction and thrilling choreography, they sing and dance like never before.

CHARACTERS: Looking at 1950s characters through a contemporary lens meant making crucial changes, not only in motivation—but in the people we want to see onstage. One challenge was crafting a story to support a diverse cast of characters with intention, authenticity, and care. I found my way in through the U.S. miltary. Special Services began in WWII and was one of the few army units to be racially integrated. I could imagine an ace director/choreographer like Joe Ross working with a gifted writer like Phil Filmore, pulling together a talented troupe of marginalized soldiers, and putting on a show for the troops. But what happens after the war, when they come home and their show can't get a break on Broadway? Hit musicals in 1950—Brigadoon, Guys and Dolls, Call Me Madam—were distinctly homogenous—i.e., white. Historically, it would be nearly a decade before a Black director would helm a Broadway play (Lloyd Richards, A Raisin in the Sun). So now we know what Joe and Phil are up against, and why they need this barn in Connecticut to put on their show. The Falbury family—Jane, Gloria, and Pop—need this show—and these show people—just as much to save their beloved farm from being acquired by a rich and powerful land owner bent on creating her own family legacy. I won't give away how song-and-dance save the day—but in the end, everyone does Get Happy.

What has been your favorite part of writing this musical and what are you most excited about seeing come to life on stage? If I could spend the rest of my writing life putting old songs into new musicals, I'd be one happy writer. Summer Stock is the second musical I've crafted "with" legendary composers like Irving Berlin, Harold Arlen, and Shelton Brooks (the first was Hello! My Baby, Goodspeed 2011). Bringing in these songs my mom taught me and her mom taught her, so my kids and theirs can sing them again, is my dream job—and I can't wait to see this dream cast hit the notes, find the laughs, and take flight like I can't even begin to dream.

[rkn001]

oooohhh bet you've thought of a flower for crashman :o

kinda. i've settled on the thistle as my choice for him.

there's many genera of flowers that go under the common name of thistle, so it might seem appropriate to analyze the etymology of that name itself. the word thistle comes from the old english word þistel, which originates from the proto-germanic word þistilaz, a variant of the proto-indo-european root (s)teyg-, which means "to be sharp; to pierce; to prick." and it makes sense—what these genera have in common are the prickly thorns at the sides of the bulbous flower head, a warning sign of "handle with care or else i'll prick you" and i think that's certainly the case for crash man's character; the other second gen'ers would have to watch for his violent bouts of anger, especially since he's always equipped with explosives. prickly, like the flower itself.

also, the flower head itself looks like it's bursting with strays of energy, showy and expressive. it somewhat reminds me of explosions, which is what crash man's weapon is all about!

but it's also known that the thistle represents strength, aggression, resilience, and protection, which has to do with the origin tale of how the thistle became scotland's flower: an invading norse army attempted to ambush a scottish army unit, but it failed because one norse soldier was barefoot and stepped on a thistle and cried out in pain, alerting the scottish army. somehow, i can't help but feel that the love that the scottish have for this flower because of this tale is in parallel with the love that the second gen'ers have for crash man. he might be thorny, but when the going gets tough, he'd fight tooth and nail to protect his linemates at all costs, and that's what deserves him his respect.

also, thistles are known to be tough flowers; many thistles variants can survive under the harshest climates, whether that be in arid or cold ones. crash man himself is tough; his armor can withstand many explosions, and that reflects the resilient nature of these flowers.

another meaning which i came across for the thistle is misanthropy. i'm not sure where this meaning came from, but i figured this also somewhat fits my own interpretation of crash man (somewhat inspired by the mega's programmed to fight). to me, he's a tired war machine who's had enough of seeing the same petty wars between a couple of human men over and over again, when the causalities include robot masters that have been repurposed for war (which would explain why he'd dislike recycling). i'm sure with him being worn out by all of this conflict, he can't help but feel scorn for humankind for what robots have to be put through.

i'm going to leave it at that for now, and i'd be happy if anyone else would think of other, possibly more appropriate choices of flowers for the orange bomber himself!

[cleverwordsandotherstuffilike]

A number of dresses made from parachute silk are housed and exhibited at numerous museums, including the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., the Don F. Pratt Museum in Fort Campbell, Kentucky, and the Imperial War Museum in London.

Luxuries were thin on the ground during and after World War II. When silk became a “military issue” and the price of the material went up, the only silk available could be a groom’s parachute, and if it wasn’t damaged, it could eventually be transformed into a stunning wedding gown.

Due to the fact that it was fire resistant, strong, lightweight and easy to pack, silk was among the best fabrics for making parachutes. The colour of the parachutes was white, probably because the cost to change it was considered prohibitive or due to camouflage reasons.

Combine the characteristics of the silk with the colour of the parachutes used during World War II and a perfect wedding dress appears. The groom would give his parachute (in many cases the one that saved his life) to his bride so she could make a dress for the big occasion.

But what if the groom was not part of the parachute unit? World War II veteran Ted Zimmerman has the answer to this question.

Zimmerman met his wife, Jackie, in Brussels during World War II and about a year later the couple decided to get married. However, there was a small problem facing them: Jackie couldn’t find the supplies she needed to make a wedding dress. Luckily, Zimmerman knew a few soldiers in the parachute unit, and as he told KTVB, he took a bottle of whiskey and traded it for white material.

The two got married in 1946 and in 2016 they celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary. The couple donated Jackie’s parachute wedding dress to the World War II History Museum in New Orleans.

Parachute manufacturers in the United States began using nylon fabric by the end of the war, because they were unable to import silk from Japan. After the war, many brides made their white wedding dresses from repurposed nylon parachutes.

[askmadcomcrew]

Phobos and the Auditor, why does the AAHW seemingly have so much affiliation with the NC? They occupied Nexus bases in the far outskirts of Nexus City, were used to fight the test subject for the Sleepwalker Training Program, and even have a similar hierarchy for base troops?

Phobos: What is now known as the AAHW began simply as the Advanced Training Program, an initiative to mass produce programmed soldiers to be used as cannon fodder for the arena. Once the tests were concluded, we put them up for grabs as an army for rent. As long as you paid us, you had your own military. Of course since they are products of our sciences, they follow a similar hierarchy of units.

Auditor: We were occupying former AAHW bases in order to get a grasp on any remaining generation 3 units in the area, also because there were reports of activity of Hank in the area. I have repurposed the nexus core's technology to suit my own needs.

[bccfggffbgv]

Uzi Prime's army units:

Soldier drones: Worker drone units given military grade armor and weaponry. Aren't the best fighters but are always there no matter how many of them are destroyed and are incredibly loyal to a fault.

Berserker drones: disassembly drones that gave up all firearms in place for all sorts of melee weapons. All are quite dimwitted and never really plan ahead but are very unpredictable and are quite resilient to pain.

Bomber Drones: Flying disassembly and/or (jetpack/hoverboard riding) worker drones that bombard their enemies with various explosives. While incredibly fast, they aren't all too sturdy and the worker's fuel tanks are vulnerable to any type of damage and are very explosive.

Brute Bots: Repurposed old worker drone models that were too big for others uses in the past but now are used for their brute strength and durability to crush any and all foes. Though incredibly durable, they do have a weak spot upon their back that's easily damaged by any attack and are quite easy to outrun and dodge any of their attacks.

H0UND Units: Repurposed assist K-9 bots that are now used for tracking and hunting any defiant bots or humans by biting or clawing at them. While incredibly fast, they are easily distracted with bones, tennis balls, and dog toys due to them still having some of their old programming coded in and are actually capable of being tamed if lucky enough.

@crystal-beast-tamer

[tehuti88-art]

3/15/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is an unnamed tank commander, without cap (top drawing), with field cap (middle drawing), and with field cap and goggles (bottom drawing). He often gets into verbal sparring matches with Master Sgt. Theodor Schulte. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding his design, he's a fawn Great Dane. I'm not entirely satisfied with him but he'll do for now.

TUMBLR EDIT: This is the guy known as Unnamed (SS) Panzer Commander, I've just learned to be prudent regarding which language I use when referring to this story on Reddit. I had to change the size and lengthen his cap to accommodate his design. He's a relatively bit character who won't be receiving a name, since his brief appearances in the story are meant more as comic relief/a running gag than anything, though he does play a bigger role in the background than previously intended. Result of all this is I don't know much about him, and don't intend to.

Guy here is a Waffen-SS Panzer commander (I think he's a master sergeant like Schulte but am unsure) (edit, I just looked at the adult scene he appears in, and yes, that's his rank), very tall and broad shouldered and gangly, as it seems to me, probably not the most fit person to be crammed inside a tank. But hey, my Manitou Island character Francois LaCroix is a tall voyageur in a profession where being short and compact is far more suitable. Maybe this is one reason for Unnamed Guy's attitude? I've already mentioned, I believe, the running gag he's involved in. Every so often he comes into contact with Lt. Gunter Hesse's henchman, Master Sergeant Theodor Schulte, and the two of them spend several moments cussing each other out, screaming threats, and hurling insults about each other's mothers and whatnot, as if they're mortal enemies with some lifelong grudge. They then promptly settle down and exchange cigarettes and chocolate and such before making plans when to next meet and wishing each other a mild farewell. Lather, rinse, repeat. Hesse, when he's present, always observes these weird interactions with vague puzzlement. When he tries asking Schulte for details on what exactly originated this ritual, Schulte can't recall, he doesn't even know the Panzer guy's name. Hesse is bothered by this lack of clarity yet Schulte doesn't care, Panzer guy always offers decent cigarettes. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A few of the details of what I do know about this Panzer guy:

*He's almost certainly on meth, and this might partly explain his screaming matches with Schulte.

*He appears as a background character in an adult WIP featuring Lars Franke, after Franke is forced out of his position in the SS-Totenkopfverbände and transfers into a Panzer unit himself. Hinting that, at least for a time, these two serve together. I can't get into detail for obvious reasons but the Panzer unit is overnighting someplace, and Unnamed Guy's part in the scene involves his, um, extracurricular activities with the housewife keeping Franke awake. Franke is understandably peeved, and comes across as quite a prude, when it turns out later on that he has his own kink. (See HIS ENTRY.) So, Unnamed Guy and Lars Franke are familiar with each other.

*He (and Franke) appears at the Alpine Fortress in Ultima Thule, meaning he's a test subject in Project Ultima Thule. This is a more recent development involving how Project Doomsday evolves into the newer project and what testing entails; certain Waffen-SS units are volunteered for experimentation with the new, repurposed serum, to create a sort of "immortal" super soldier. Both Franke and Unnamed Guy act with autonomy, indicating that they survive the war and flee to the Fortress voluntarily, rather than being killed and brought there afterward (like Hesse and PFC Konrad Helmstadt). They also answer to Frau Sigrid Richter, who's the last person left in charge of things after the SS falls. This is a much newer plot point which needs more fleshing out; Franke is planned to play a supporting antagonist role, though Unnamed Guy is still a minor background character, so far.

And, that there is about all I know of him. He might develop a few more details in the context of a supporting character in more important characters' sidestories/backstories (like Franke's), though I'm attempting to leave him largely undeveloped.

[Unnamed SS Panzer Commander 2024 [‎Friday, ‎March ‎15, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:21 AM]]

[Unnamed SS Panzer Commander 2024 2 [‎Friday, ‎March ‎15, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:29 AM]]

[Unnamed SS Panzer Commander 2024 3 [‎Friday, ‎March ‎15, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:36 AM]]

[sixstringphonic]

Where Is Hamas Getting Its Weapons? Increasingly, From Israel.

The very weapons that Israeli forces have used to enforce a blockade of Gaza are now being used against them. (The New York Times, January 28th 2024.)

Israeli military and intelligence officials have concluded that a significant number of weapons used by Hamas in the Oct. 7 attacks and in the war in Gaza came from an unlikely source: the Israeli military itself.

For years, analysts have pointed to underground smuggling routes to explain how Hamas stayed so heavily armed despite an Israeli military blockade of the Gaza Strip. But recent intelligence has shown the extent to which Hamas has been able to build many of its rockets and anti-tank weaponry out of the thousands of munitions that failed to detonate when Israel lobbed them into Gaza, according to weapons experts and Israeli and Western intelligence officials. Hamas is also arming its fighters with weapons stolen from Israeli military bases.

Intelligence gathered during months of fighting revealed that, just as the Israeli authorities misjudged Hamas’s intentions before Oct. 7, they also underestimated its ability to obtain arms.

What is clear now is that the very weapons that Israeli forces have used to enforce a blockade of Gaza over the past 17 years are now being used against them. Israeli and American military explosives have enabled Hamas to shower Israel with rockets and, for the first time, invade Israeli towns from Gaza.

“Unexploded ordnance is a main source of explosives for Hamas,” said Michael Cardash, the former deputy head of the Israeli National Police Bomb Disposal Division and an Israeli police consultant. “They are cutting open bombs from Israel, artillery bombs from Israel, and a lot of them are being used, of course, and repurposed for their explosives and rockets.”

Weapons experts say that roughly 10 percent of munitions typically fail to detonate, but in Israel’s case, the figure could be higher. Israel’s arsenal includes Vietnam-era missiles, long discontinued by the United States and other military powers. The failure rate on some of those missiles could be as high as 15 percent, said one Israeli intelligence officer who, like others interviewed for this article, spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss intelligence matters.

By either count, years of sporadic bombing and the recent bombardment of Gaza have littered the area with thousands of tons of unexploded ordnance just waiting to be reused. One 750-pound bomb that fails to detonate can become hundreds of missiles or rockets.

Hamas did not respond to messages seeking comment. The Israeli military said in a statement that it was committed to dismantling Hamas but did not answer specific questions about the group’s weapons.

Israeli officials knew before the October attacks that Hamas could salvage some Israeli-made weapons, but the scope has startled weapons experts and diplomats alike.

Israeli authorities also knew that their armories were vulnerable to theft. A military report from early last year noted that thousands of bullets and hundreds of guns and grenades had been stolen from poorly guarded bases.

From there, the report said, some made their way to the West Bank, and others to Gaza by way of Sinai. But the report focused on military security. The consequences were treated almost as an afterthought: “We are fueling our enemies with our own weapons,” read one line of the report, which was viewed by The New York Times.

The consequences became apparent on Oct. 7. Hours after Hamas breached the border, four Israeli soldiers discovered the body of a Hamas gunman who was killed outside the Re’im military base. Hebrew writing was visible on a grenade on his belt, said one of the soldiers, who recognized it as a bulletproof Israeli grenade, a recent model. Other Hamas fighters overran the base, and Israeli military officials say some weapons were looted and returned to Gaza.

A few miles away, members of an Israeli forensic team collected one of the 5,000 rockets fired by Hamas that day. Examining the rocket, they discovered that its military-grade explosives had most likely come from an unexploded Israeli missile fired into Gaza during a previous war, according to an Israeli intelligence officer.

The Oct. 7 attacks showcased the patchwork arsenal that Hamas had stitched together. It included Iranian-made attack drones and North Korean-made rocket launchers, the types of weapons that Hamas is known to smuggle into Gaza through tunnels. Iran remains a major source of Hamas’s money and weapons.

But other weapons, like anti-tank explosives, RPG warheads, thermobaric grenades and improvised devices, were repurposed Israeli arms, according to Hamas videos and remnants uncovered by Israel.

Rockets and missiles require huge quantities of explosive material, which officials say is the most difficult item to smuggle into Gaza.

Yet Hamas fired so many rockets and missiles on Oct. 7 that Israel’s Iron Dome air-defense system could not keep up. Rockets struck towns, cities and military bases, giving cover to the militants who stormed into Israel. One rocket hit a military base believed to house part of Israel’s nuclear missile program.

Hamas once relied on material like fertilizer and powdered sugar — which, pound for pound, are not as powerful as military-grade explosives — to build rockets. But since 2007, Israel has enforced a strict blockade, restricting the import of goods, including electronics and computer equipment, that could be used to make weapons.

That blockade and a crackdown on smuggling tunnels leading into and out of Gaza forced Hamas to get creative.

Its manufacturing abilities are now sophisticated enough to saw into the warheads of bombs weighing up to 2,000 pounds, to harvest the explosives and to repurpose them.

“They have a military industry in Gaza. Some of it is above ground, some of it is below ground, and they are able to manufacture a lot of what they need,” said Eyal Hulata, who served as Israel’s national security adviser and head of its National Security Council before stepping down early last year.

One Western military official said that most of the explosives that Hamas is using in its war with Israel appear to have been manufactured using unexploded Israeli-launched munitions. One example, the official said, was an explosive booby trap that killed 10 Israeli soldiers in December.

The military wing of Hamas, the Qassam Brigades, has flaunted its manufacturing abilities for years. After a war in 2014 with Israel, it established engineering teams to collect unexploded munitions like howitzer rounds and American-made MK-84 bombs.

These teams work with the police’s explosive ordnance-disposal units, allowing people to safely return to their homes. They also help Hamas gear up for the next war.

“Our strategy aimed to repurpose these pieces, turning this crisis into an opportunity,” a Qassam Brigades commander told Al Jazeera in 2020.

Qassam’s media arm has released videos in recent years showing exactly what they were doing: sawing into warheads, scooping out explosive material — usually a powder — and melting it down to reuse.

In 2019, Qassam commandos discovered hundreds of munitions on two World War I-era British military vessels that had sunk off the coast of Gaza a century earlier. The discovery, Qassam boasted, allowed it to make hundreds of new rockets.

Early in the current war, a Qassam video showed militants assembling Yassin 105 rockets in a sunless manufacturing facility.

“The most essential way for Hamas to obtain weaponry is through domestic manufacture,” said Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, a Middle East policy analyst who grew up in Gaza. “It’s just a tweak of chemistry and you can make pretty much whatever you want.”

Israel restricts the mass importation of construction materials that can be used to build rockets and other weapons. But each new round of fighting leaves behind neighborhoods of rubble from which militants can pluck pipes, concrete and other valuable material, Mr. Alkhatib said.

Hamas cannot manufacture everything. Some things are easier to buy from the black market and smuggle into Gaza. Sinai, the largely uninhabited desert region between Israel, Egypt and the Gaza Strip, remains a hub for arms smuggling. Weapons from conflicts in Libya, Eritrea and Afghanistan have been discovered in Sinai, according to Israeli intelligence assessments.

According to two Israeli intelligence officials, at least a dozen small tunnels were still running between Gaza and Egypt before Oct. 7. A spokesman for the Egyptian government said its military had done its part to shut down tunnels on its side of the border. “Many of the weapons currently inside the Gaza Strip are the result of smuggling from within Israel,” the spokesman said in an email.

But the besieged streets of Gaza itself are increasingly a source of weapons.

Israel estimates that it has conducted at least 22,000 strikes on Gaza since Oct. 7. Each often involves multiple rounds, meaning tens of thousands of munitions have likely been dropped or fired — and thousands failed to detonate.

“Artillery, hand grenades, other munitions — tens of thousands of unexploded ordnance will be left after this war,” said Charles Birch, the head of the U.N. Mine Action Service in Gaza. These “are like a free gift to Hamas."

By Maria Abi-Habib and Sheera Frenkel

Maria Abi-Habib reported from London, and Sheera Frenkel from Tel Aviv and Jerusalem.

[icharchivist]

finished the event! it was really sweet!!

like for a performance event it didn't cut as deep as the mole troupe event did but it didn't need to, and it was mostly lighthearted and fun.

it's also a nice way to repurpose and evolve Juri so he doesn't stay stuck in the whole "serious ex-imperial soldier" mold.

Kinda shocked they only just quickly mentioned Poseidon once in a while but didn't actually give him anything to do?! if Juri gets a new unit i imagine it might be for his FE or something because they really didn't do anything with that DLKJFDKLFJ

but i'm okay with all of my "crew related" expectation being let down because i think focusing on Lauphit was a good choice, and it brought a lot of heart to the event's stories, and how someone's confidence can be so easily crushed when they're mostly driven by passion and people around him think it's not nearly enough to get through things. Juri being able to remind him that passion is what matters most therefore rerail him a bit and it's nice.

Lauphit and Juri had a really, really nice dynamic, they end up influencing each other very well so that they can grow together with their Fiery Soul and passion. It was neat to see and i hope we keep seeing this duo later.

All and all, a cute event!

[recentlyheardcom]

Russia's T-72B3 tanks at a military parade rehearsal in 2020. Viktor Vytolsky/Epsilon via Getty ImagesA Ukrainian soldier called Russian tech support after a captured Russian tank wouldn't start, per Forbes.The support staff seemed unaware they were speaking to a Ukrainian and offered their assistance.Ukraine has been capturing and repurposing Russia's tanks for their own use.A Ukrainian officer decided to call Russian tech support for help when he ran into issues operating a captured Russian tank.The officer, whose callsign is Kochevnik, was seen in a video making what appeared to be calls trolling staff working for the Russian tank manufacturer, Uralvagonzavod. The videos were posted to YouTube by Militarnyi, a Ukraine-based media outlet reporting on the war.Kochevnik said he had problems with his Russian T-72B3 tank, a model that is widely used by Russia's military. The T-72B3 is also the most advanced version of the Soviet-era T-72 tanks.The video, which Forbes reported on in a story published on Sunday, did not specify when or where Kochevnik and his fellow Ukrainian soldiers captured the tank. Insider was unable to independently verify who Kochevnik called and when that call took place.Kochevnik first called up a person he said was a Uralvagonzavod staff member, Aleksander Anatolevich. On the call, Kochevnik ran through a litany of complaints about the tank, from how it had been spewing oil to its faulty compressors."I am the commander of an armor group and the problem is we simply cannot operate it," Kochevnik said in the video, per Forbes.Anatolevich appeared to be unaware that he was speaking to a Ukrainian soldier. He assured Kochevnik that he would raise Kochevnik's issues with the design bureau and the engine manufacturer, per Forbes' translation.In the second half of the video, Kochevnik made a call to what he claimed was Uralvagonzavod director Andrey Abakumov. Abakumov could be heard telling Kochevnik to report the tank's issues via a WhatsApp message, per Forbes.Like Anatolevich, Abakumov seemed to be unaware that Kochevnik was Ukrainian. Kochevnik later revealed his identity to both men at the end of the calls."Look, I'm the commander of the armored group K-2. This is the second mechanized battalion of Ukraine's 54th mechanized brigade," Kochevnik told Anatolevich."When we take more of these tanks as our trophies, make them better so that it will be easier for us to operate them. Agreed? Thank you very much. Take care of yourselves. Glory to Ukraine," Kochevnik added.The Russian military has lost two-thirds of its tanks since it invaded Ukraine, according to the Netherlands-based open-source intelligence website, Oryx.Jakub Janovsky, a military analyst from Oryx, told Insider in May that Russia initially had around 3,000 operational tanks when the war began. The Russians have lost at least 2,329 tanks, per Oryx's 2022 data.Besides destroying the tanks, the Ukrainians have also been repurposing them for their own use.Michael Kofman, the director of the Russia Studies Program at The Center for Naval Analyses, said in March that Ukraine has been capturing and using Russia's T-80 tanks."They were very easily identifiable. You can see an entire unit composed of nothing but captured Russian tanks," said Kofman, who was speaking at an event hosted by the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.Representatives for Russia's Ministry of Defense did not immediately respond to a request for comment from Insider sent outside regular business hours.Read the original article on Business Insider

[xxx-calibur]

"If you are in need of relief, this Unit is willing to oblige your desires, my lord."

Calypso was a recent addition to Chaldea's roster. Not truly a servant, but a divine automata, designed and created by the gods for the purpose of providing sexual relief to their soldiers. Her body a work of art in every aspect, imbued with matronly curves more than able to satisfy any mortal man.

Coming to Chaldea, she had been more than willing to provide aid in whatever way she could, and after hearing of a servant so burdened by an overactive libido that he was claiming other female servants for his bed with startling frequency, she just knew that she needed to do something to help. That she thought she could satisfy him, where gods and demons and angels had tried and failed, was perhaps a bit too arrogant...

Of course the gods had sent something to intervene. An angel had been snatched and repurposed by him after all. Yet it was their folly that their creation had been turned into just another set of holes for Alibaba. He'd give her credit, she lasted longer than most. Her Saint's Graph was particularly strong and resistant to his Noble Phantasm, but resistant did not mean immune. In time she broke just as the others did and, just like the Fates and Avery, her core would be changed with one simple description: [Alibaba's Wife (EX)].

"That was so nice of those Gods to make something just for me, you know? Isn't this so much better than serving them, Caly? Being Alibaba's Wife is just the best, you know? I don't know if I can get you pregnant, but we'll just have to try lots and lots, you know?"

This, of course, being said as he was using her like little more than a toy, her face shoved down into his bed as his hips thrust that bludgeon he called a cock into her cum bloated pussy again and again at a pace he dared not perform on any of his other wives. They might break if he did that, but Calypso? If she was built to satisfy the Gods and their soldiers then surely she could take the abuse, a theory Alibaba was more than happy to test again, and again and again.