#siege engineer talks

[we-are-siege-engineer]

Titan: Don't Fuck With the Ocean

So this has been delayed, and everyone and their mother has already commented on this. We’re well past the virality mark on this topic. But whatever, I want to crack in and get this thing wrapped up anyways. For context, I study mechanical and manufacturing engineering. I’ve grown up around submarines with my dad being an engineer on US Navy subs, and I was able to ask him about this. I’ve also got a diving cert and enough experience living coastal to at least get me a knowledgeable respect for the ocean. Being 60 ft under should instill that, at least. 

I will not make any comments on any of the other four victims. However, I reserve the right to be fully derogatory to the CEO who died in the submersible, Stockton Rush, for his disgusting flippancy towards safety in such a dangerous environment as 4,000m below sea level, for disregarding multiple warnings against the project, and for subjecting other passengers to this. I intended to start with my favorite source on this, but it looks like I’m beginning with spite. I claim that in engineering, if safety disregards don’t immediately boil your blood, you have to turn in your card. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-65998914 “Titan sub CEO dismissed safety warnings as 'baseless cries', emails show” Some people may have seen the quote “At some point, safety just is pure waste,” Stockton told journalist David Pogue in an interview last year. “I mean, if you just want to be safe, don’t get out of bed. Don’t get in your car. Don’t do anything.” Stockton Rush has typed "We have heard the baseless cries of 'you are going to kill someone' way too often," he wrote. "I take this as a serious personal insult." *Frankly*, the response to this should very much not be personal insult, but a call to action. There is no reason to take this personally. “I have broken some rules to make this…The carbon fiber and titanium, there is a rule that you don’t do that. Well, I did.” 

“At some point safety just is pure waste…I think I can do this just as safely by breaking the rules.”

“[The sub industry is] obscenely safe, because they have all these regulations…But it also hasn’t innovated or grown—because they have all these regulations.”

This is gruesomely hilarious when you remember the CEO isn’t the actual person running the stress tests, manufacturing it, checking materials charts and costs, calculating max tolerances, or anything else. He’s the little funny man with the money and the reputation who tells people do what he wants anyways. He has no right to play maverick when he is hardly doing any of the work, and especially when it involves other innocent people. While he has a bachelor’s in aerospace engineering, a very commendable thing to get, that’s not what he does hands on as the CEO, and aerospace does not directly translate to submersible understanding. You do not get to be flippant with other peoples’ lives. These comments would be bad enough for anything on the surface, or even in the sky. But again, the ocean is a completely different beast, where it is much more difficult for emergency services to reach people.

As well as this, I need to state the difference between submersible and submarine. If I don’t, I feel the entire US Navy breathe down my neck. It’s like boat vs ship. Submersible: needs to be supported by a vessel up top, not designed for long term deployments. Smol boy. Submarine: can be operated independently, can go on six month or so deployments. Big boy. Going forward, the primary difficulties of the ocean are first and foremost the atmospheres of pressure on the vehicle. The dangers of no breathing air in the ocean are of course, a major issue, but the pressure of the ocean will be what breaks this and makes that lack of air a huge issue. A submersible needs to be properly pressurized to withstand the changes and keep the passengers inside also safe. The ocean is also very difficult to reach communication through. https://www.hindawi.com/journals/wcmc/2019/6470359/, so the submersible losing connection isn’t entirely unsurprising. But other factors listed here lead to its delay.

[victusinveritas]

[felassan]

This post is a follow-on to [this post].

Some more Bluesky posts by David Gaider:

David Gaider: "The Road to Summerfall - Part 3 I haven't talked a lot about the two years I spent at Beamdog (between 2016 and 2018) mainly because, well, ultimately nothing came of it. I worked on two projects, both of which ended up cancelled. Still, I think the time I spent there was ultimately worthwhile." [x]

(Rest of post is under a cut due to length.)

"After leaving BioWare, I was understandably in a bit of a funk. I talked to my friends at length about how I wanted to start a studio, but for that you really need two things: someone to handle the biz dev side, who can start the company and talk to publishers, and someone to work on the project." [x] "I was the latter, certainly, but even then my options were limited. I could put together a design, but I couldn't *make* a game on my own without engineering and art skills, and I had neither. So whatever design I made would need to be pitched to publishers, and for that I needed the biz dev person." [x] "Yet I didn't know anyone like that yet. And this really is a case where you either do or don't, because you can't just *join* a start up as a co-founder unless you know someone involved first. The only other way is by being hired as an employee. Nobody *hires* co-founders, unless you're truly lucky." [x]

"Around this time, I ran into Trent Oster at my local gym. Trent used to work at BioWare (as a co-founder, and was, at one time, one of the Project Directors on DAO) and left to found Beamdog - a small Edmonton studio which, at that time, had mostly done re-makes of BioWare's Infinity Engine games." [x] "He told me Beamdog was starting to do their own projects. They were finishing Siege of Dragonspear, an expansion for BG1, but more importantly were also up to something else: a sequel to Planescape: Torment, for which they had Chris Avellone on board as a consultant. Now THAT caught my interest." [x] "After all, making a sequel to one of the most beloved Infinity Engine titles? In the Planescape setting, which I adored, and which gave license to break all the "standard" rules of CRPG's? Yes, please! Under that premise, I warily agreed - and by March of 2016 I was Beamdog's new Creative Director." [x]

"Initially, I was diverted onto doing a treatment for a possible BG3 - which I did, but we quickly learned that Wizards of the Coast (WotC) had already passed this onto a triple-A developer. We *suspected* this was Larian, and at that point: fair enough! There was no way Beamdog could match that!" [x] "Thus, I spent the next year training a pair of brilliant young writers and (with Chris Avellone's help) put together a plan for what ended up being called Planescape: Unraveled, where you played one of three aspects of Ravel Puzzlewell racing against time to solve the mystery of your own existence." [x] "I was proud of this one, let me tell you. It was sharp, it had great NPC's, WotC was so excited about it they were willing to move up their plans for 3rd edition Planescape and include some of the characters and seismic events from the game in the setting reboot. We were ready to start writing!" [x]

"The problem? Funding. WotC wasn't in a place to do more than give a stamp of approval, and the publishers we met... well, Trent knows more than I do, but I think there was a perception that Planescape wasn't very successful or commercial. Or maybe they just didn't have confidence in Beamdog, or me." [x] "Whatever the problem, we couldn't sell it... and by the end of 2016, we had to put Planescape: Unraveled on the shelf and start something new. Which killed me, and I almost moved on right then, but then Trent gave me license to move onto a pet project of mine: a game which became Cold West." [x] "See, I had a long-standing itch to make something Weird West. I'd pitched an idea for an Old West exorcist game to Bio back in the day (to blank stares and "thanks for the pitch"), but here I had the chance to actually develop it into something? OK, yes. For that, I'll keep going. And I did." [x]

"Thus, we made a game that took place in Alberta (the Canadian province where Edmonton is) in 1881, but with demons and magic and dark fae. It gave me a chance to do history research about Canada's Old West period and especially its aboriginal history, something home-grown, and it felt REALLY cool." [x] "Even with a great playable prototype showing off the turn-based combat, however: we couldn't sell it. Weird West isn't a popular genre, I suppose, but whatever the problem was once again the publishers Beamdog spoke to all passed. Once again, we were all ready to start writing and had to shelve it." [x] "I was gutted. Two cancellations in a row? I always had the feeling Trent didn't think either of these games had much commercial appeal, but - to his credit - he let them happen. Now, however, it was time to make something more conventionally commercial. Time for Beamdog, perhaps, but not for me." [x] "I would have left by this point anyhow, I think, but it just so happened I'd recently made a friend who was maybe that very biz dev-oriented person one needed to start a studio... and who wanted to do just that. So, as I left Beamdog at the start of 2018, this time it was with a plan. Maybe. 😅" [x]

[original thread, following thread, latest thread]

Follow-up and other recent Q&A Bluesky posts:

Mike Laidlaw: "Dave’s making me blush in [this thread]. Happy memories working together even if the entire writing team would wince every time I walked in their room and said, “Soooo…..” and clapped-clasped my hands. It was and still is my “bad news is a-comin’” tell." [x] David Gaider: "I still tell tales to the youngins about your "So!" power move and the sheer terror it would inspire in me each and every time. 😅" [x] "And the grin. The grin that contained a self-awareness of the pain he was about to inflict, and which he took no personal joy in, but By God it was going to happen anyhow." [x]

DG: "While I was at BioWare, EA *always* preferred Mass Effect, straight up Their Marketing team liked it more. It was modern. It had action. They never quite knew what to do with DA, and whenever DA outperformed ME, ME got the excuses. If you ask me, it was always just shy of the axe since DA Origins." [x] Allan Schumacher: "I felt this percolated down to people in studio as well. ME was the prestige franchise, while DA was the plucky one that was too wild west and had low standards." [x] DG: "It was kind of hard to get away from the feeling that the Dragon Age team was BioWare's "B team", wasn't it? Even when Mass Effect didn't do as well as Dragon Age, there was a kind of certainty that this was a fluke and Mass Effect ultimately had more *potential*." [x]

User: "I've always wondered how close Beamdog got to doing BG3 and if there was anything planned in advance before it ended up with Larian." DG: "I answered this in the latest thread. Beamdog made a pitch for a BG3, but it was already in Larian's hands by that point. So never more than a pitch." [x]

[original thread, following thread, latest thread]

[zennihilation]

Davrin: Suppose you had a contract to assassinate me. Would you take it? Juan: Oh hell no. Davrin: So you do have morals? Juan: No, have you seen you?! You know what kind of speed I'd need to get to just crack your ribcage? Davrin: What? Juan: That's not even with the armor. Seriously, where are you from? I need to know. For research. Davrin: Nevermind.

Bellara: So... I heard you talking to Davrin. Juan: It's not what you think. I was curious. Bellara: I don't know where he's from either, so if you find out... For research. Juan: FOR RESEARCH. Davrin: STOP.

After A Friend in Need: Juan: It's not what you think it is. Bellara: We just want to know where. Juan: And if there are more of you, because Eldrin isn't... Davrin: Isn't what? Juan: Built like three siege engines stacked on top of each other.

[northgazaupdates]

5 February 2024

Environmental engineer Dr. Tamer Al-Najjar reviews the situation in north Gaza as it stands thus far. He writes,

How is the situation in North Gaza?

The situation in North is tough, painful, extremely exhausting, and terrifying, hanging between hunger and attack!!

How? Wasn't there a withdrawal of incursion?

Indeed, there was a withdrawal, and thousands roamed amidst the rubble. However, the incursion resumed, and intense clashes resumed as well!

Whether there's an incursion or not, we face a Starvation war, siege, and continuous bombardment!!

How is the situation on the ground?

Extremely intense clashes in north and west of the Strip, continuous explosions, ongoing bombardment, displacement, destruction!!

What's the news on negotiations?

Ceasefire talks are ongoing, and the situation is complicated, balancing between a temporary truce and conditions that could undermine the cause, or a complete cessation with terms that could revive the people and the nation!

So, what about the people?

Those leading the negotiations are the sons of this people, fully aware of our cause and paramount interests, and what preserves our rights and blood!

Source: Tamer Al-Najjar via Stories on Instagram

[peasant-player]

I watched the war of the rohirrim!

And I have thoughts spoilers under the cut + some crappy doodles ❤️

Man that Oliphant was nightmare fuel.

I never thought I would be scared of elephants but here I am.

The watcher was kinda adorable!

Here some doodles xD

Wulf is now forever a raccoonTM in my head.

What a pathetic man.

Whoever said Hera is a Mary sue needs to check their brain OR the definition of Mary Sue.

For God sake her first real kill was with the help of her horse and a pitchfork while laying down being terrified.

I do like that she used the "death" Sentence in her amazing show off against the racoonTM because that what Rohans warrior use to say while riding into battle!

I disapprove about her daily clothing choice. White boots and shirt? Really? That poor laundry lady!

Now to the more important part that I need to say:

I loved Targg and the shield maiden Owlyn so much. I want a healing fix it and I ship them.

Did they had any interactions with each other. No. But that's not gonna stop hopefully anyone!

He was a really good general with great moral compass! He would have spared Hama and the small folk. Now let me get this quick~ out of the system:

I loved his clothing and I mean he got just stabbed once(1)time he could survive that! (Helm got shot with arrows like 6 times and was fist fighting people while being very depressed in a snowstorm like a week after that)

Let there be some loyal wild men safe Targg from the battle field and then he heals but doesn't know what to do with his life and then he meets hera and olwyn and he tags along because he respects her and he has nothing better to do. They could go on a adventure together.

Or idk let him see that the raccoon man is crazy earlier and safe hama for negotiations or whatever and he helps Rohan idk I read fics with much worse unrealistic premise and it still worked great!

Here have a little comic

So let's talk about Helm hammerhand!

What a legend. No really I'm gonna draw him standing heroics with his tits out and his hammer holding into the sky.

He would approve.

I laughed out loud that he kinda froze to death and suddenly had his hammer in his hand!

He punched a ogre/orc to death! Sauron and the Balrog should be thankful that he does not have access to thermo leggings and the blood of the Numenorian because he would have punched them all straight into the void!!

He would have throw the ring into the fire because he has no use of such nonsense!

And Haleth !! The silm Haleth would have approved of him!!!

So cool,so hot and even his death was kinda cool, very quick but so heroic.

The twink bard hama got used up to show that the raccoonTM is a terrible war lord and a super pathetic man. Kinda sad and underwhelming. Good part to start a fix it fic!

And wulf Ach wulf man idk what to say I will say that the German dub gave him a better and deeper voice then the English voice so that was nice! I had some feeling for him when his father died and he got choked out by helm but he really went all out to become very pathetic.

I hope there are some good fics that work on his very odd characteristics

I'm gonna draw him once being even much more pathetic but I need to confess he is rather bland next to Targg or Frealaf!!

Frealaf ❤️ God he is SO handsome and so cool in the rescue and he got that calm vibe about him.

He makes a great King.

I loved his clothing so much in general the clothing was great!! (Except the white pants/boot from hera!!)

Very beautiful and I can't wait to see more close up pics!! It was of course alot of fantasy style belts and fur but I do not mind that!

Then the very funny siege machine.

In all earnestly if the wild men are so good at building stuff and hauling around ridiculous amount of woods then they missed their opportunity to become middle earth's greatest engineers!!

Builders!

Wood cutters!

Why fighting around and eating scraps if you could become middle earth's best architect??

And what the hell did the poor drum player did wrong that he got a free yeeting into the atmosphere???

At least he was dedicated to play his drum until his end I guess?

But I loved the skull masks! Hehe very easy way to draw some hot wild men ~

That's my thoughts I did not went into much details about what could have been better or what is not really like in the books. I'm just glad that there is another great addition to the Tolkien fandom!!

[arachnixe]

Small Minded

They say there are powers—unfathomable and unnamed—buried deep within the earth. Boons and banes and spirits and seductions call to the ambitious, but I've never known of someone actually finding one until now.

What does one say to a dark sorceress on the cusp of her victory?

My knight, so loyal and brave, wheezes and gasps for breath within his broken armor. Our roguish friend, normally so quick witted and talkative, lies silent and unmoving in a pool of blood. I don't have the strength left to heal either of them.

"Let it sink in, Princess. I've won."

She has. I bow my head in defeat.

"The Godsblood is mine."

It hovers within her reach, an unshaped carmine gem formed of the crystallized blood of whatever forgotten god was buried here. The sickly sweet scent of its power, like rotting fruit, fills the air.

"With it, I shall wield ultimate power."

Yes, the power to remake the world according to her whim, to raise mountains from the sea or to sink cities into the abyss at her pleasure, perhaps even to rewrite the laws of space and time if she desires.

"At last, I will depose your father and rule all of Rutennia in his place!"

I jerk my head upright and stare at her in disbelief. "What?"

The sorceress Velle grins like an idiot. "You heard me, Princess. Your whole kingdom will be mine."

My face must betray my feelings, judging by the way her confidence falters at my reaction. "You've claimed a power like this, and all you can think to do with it is take over this kingdom?"

"Your father—"

"Yes. I know." I wave off her explanation, disinterested. "He didn't see your worth, you wanted to show us all, I get it, but if all you wanted to do was rule Rutennia, you could have just courted me and then poisoned my father!" I scrub at my face in frustration and suppress a scream. "What small-minded ambitions!"

That throws her off balance. "Small minded? I won! I'm getting everything I want!"

"And what you want," I retort, "is a single grain of sand on a beach." I ball my hands into fists and stalk toward her, outraged that my friends died for so little. "You are a cat who stole a siege engine to catch the mouse that once eluded you. You wouldn't even know what to do with the kingdom once you had it."

Velle barks an indignant laugh. "As if the king does!" She casts a hand toward me, magically halting my approach. "No, he has others handle all the administrative duties so he can simply bask in the worship of his subjects!"

"And when the people don't worship you?" I ask through gritted teeth, "because trade with Melland and Istow has completely halted without their kings' cousin sitting our throne?"

"I'LL MAKE THEM!" She makes a tugging motion in the air, yanking me forward to shout the words in my face. "With the Godsblood I can make my subjects dance like puppets at my command! They will all kneel before my throne."

This close to the gem, the scent fills my senses. It leaves me feeling lightheaded, giddy, almost delirious, even. It draws an inappropriate giggle out of me before I can retort. "Build a doll out of cloth and sticks. Make it kneel. Put worshipful words in its mouth. It will mean just as much. Personally, I got tired of playing with dolls at age eight."

Her face reddens. "You think you can trick me into giving up my goals? You think you can convince me this power is worthless?"

"Worthless?" I cackle. "The power of a dead god, worthless? No, only the things you imagine doing with it are worthless. You want to know what you should do with all that power? I'll tell you."

She leans forward, obviously curious.

"Istow's ports give it mastery of the sea and trade we need," I explain, as if to a child, "but we don't need them if we bring the sea to us. Flood their plains, drown their whole nation if you'd like, but take that bargaining chip away."

Some dim, distant part of me says I shouldn't give her ideas, but every inhale of the intoxicating aroma of Godsblood fills my mind with visions of what that power can do. Why can't she see it as clearly as I do?

"Melland," I continue, "is weak but well defended by the terrain. Pull the mountains down onto their capital, swallow their impregnable fortress in a new chasm, and their resources become ours."

Velle's eyes light up with understanding. "Yes, yes, you're right!"

No, no, no, even I'm still thinking too small. Like a petty warlord with a mere weapon. But this is no weapon, it's the power of a god. I take a deep breath and focus. I need to be thinking like a god.

"No, why set our sights on conquering our neighbors," I muse aloud, "when there's a whole world out there to reshape? We don't need what they have. It's not a zero sum game anymore."

Judging by her face, I've lost Velle again, but I don't care. My thoughts race. With every breath I take, my vision crystallizes.

She doesn't need to understand. I don't speak for her to hear; I speak because I must. "A perfect world, answering only to me. Every river, every pebble, the mountains and the seas, the very stars in the sky, all mine…"

"No." The sorceress shakes her head and tightens her grip on the magical restraints holding me in place. "The Godsblood is mine. I found it. I got here first. You lost."

She sounds so petulant, so small. Velle doesn't understand power, not really. She's merely a spurned court magician who deluded herself into thinking she was more, not someone with the will to rule.

And this is no inert stone. The heart's blood of a god demands to be wielded. It demands the will to wield it.

It was mine the moment I decided it was mine.

Without transition, the stone is already in my hand. A twitch of a thought tears Velle's restraints to pieces, no more than a cobweb caught on a boot.

She's screaming, shouting something, flinging spells my way, but my attention falls instead upon the crumpled figures of my dear companions.

With a thought, I am no longer next to her. I stand beside my knight, seeing him inside and out. His body is a trifle to mend, and like wiping dust from a windowsill, I smooth away the injuries. With little effort, I scan the thoughts within his mind, and… oh, what useful secrets lurking within! Many ways to control this one if he chooses to resist me.

My thief is dead. I refuse to abide that for the only one I recall who could consistently make me laugh, and a god deserves a jester even more than a king, right? All it takes is a touch to reignite the spark of life and bid the soul return to its body; funny, I always imagined resurrection to be a more difficult process.

Last of all, my sorceress. I don't need to read her thoughts to recognize her profound denial of the reality of this situation. She flings chaotic bolts of fire and lightning and ice at me, howling threats and curses that mean very little.

If I want her as my high priestess, I should impress her more.

We stand in the middle of a great empty ribcage, and yes, I think a god-bone crown would suit me. Brittle ribs bend like supple grasses, shrink and weave themselves into an ornate crown to rest on my head. I crush the Godsblood gem in my fist and direct the shards to implant themselves in pleasing patterns within the bone.

Velle ceases her assault. I watch her delusions melt away upon witnessing me destroy the gem. The light of understanding dawns within her mind that my power is entirely mine, never to be stolen. A god-bone collar snakes around her neck as gently as a princess's gloved hand, and I can taste her complete surrender.

The whole world also aches for my touch, but it will have to wait just a little longer for my design to perfect it. There are many more boons and banes buried within this graveyard world, and I'll need every last one if I wish to extend my reach beyond even the stars.

And my first three worshippers still need training.

[royalinkblot]

Wings of Home

Bonus Epilogue: Meet the Boyfriends

It was a quiet Saturday morning in the Kazansky-Mitchell household.

Saturday mornings at the Kazansky-Mitchell household were sacred—coffee, soft jazz, and the occasional dramatic reading of military policy by Iceman. Maverick had just fixed the espresso machine, Iceman sat at the kitchen island reading defense reports he wasn’t technically supposed to have anymore, wearing reading glasses and a navy blue hoodie that said “World’s Chillest Admiral.” when Nikola strolled in, glowing like the sun off a titanium fuselage.

She looked effortlessly beautiful—platinum-blonde hair in a sleek braid, soft pink lipstick, tailored flight suit hugging her slim, athletic frame. Feminine, graceful, and deadly in the air, Nikola was a perfect blend of elegance and danger.

“I brought someone,” she said, setting her helmet down with a soft clink.

Behind her stepped a man that nearly made Maverick choke on his espresso.

Lieutenant Noah “Menace” Bearsley was 26, tall, tan, with wild brown hair and a reckless grin. His flight jacket hung open, revealing a confident swagger and a devil-may-care attitude. He looked exactly like Maverick did at that age (bar the height: he was definitely taller than Maverick, the jerk)—cocky, handsome, absolutely trouble.

“Big fan, sir. I’ve studied the Black forest footage, the Siege of Garat, the Night Carrier Run—”

“Which of those was classified?” Iceman asked, softly.

“...All of them, sir.”

“And yet you studied them.” Maverick’s coffee mug paused mid-sip. “You’re five years older than my daughter.”

“Hypothetically.” Noah nodded. “Yes, sir. And she’s more mature than I am, so it balances out.”

Nikola beamed, clearly unbothered. Iceman was trying to remember if he owned a gun.

Before either of them could react, Ace entered—blue-grey eyes gleaming, hair slicked back, flight suit casually unzipped at the neck. He looked like a movie star and walked like he knew it. Next to him was a towering man with military bearing and soulful brown eyes.

“Dads,” Ace said coolly. “This is my boyfriend.”

Chief Petty Officer Milo “Bullseye” Cohen, Navy SEAL, gave them a sharp nod. Calm, polite, and built like a god, he had a quiet intensity that rivaled Iceman himself.

“Pleasure to meet you, sirs.”

Iceman blinked. Maverick gasped.

“This one’s you,” Maverick whispered to Iceman. “He brought home you.”

“And Nikola brought home you, in 1986,” Iceman whispered back.

The realization hit them like a low-altitude barrel roll.

Cue Panic. Parental panic.

“Alright,” Maverick barked. “Family room. Now. All six of us. We’re having a talk.”

Everyone groaned. Nikola flopped onto the couch like a dramatic soap opera star. Ace smirked. Milo stood at attention. Noah looked both amused and mildly terrified.

Maverick pointed at both young men.

“We know how charming pilots and special ops guys can be. We were those guys.”

Iceman nodded. “That’s why you’re getting the talk. Yes, even at 21.”

Nikola buried her face in a pillow. “Please, just let me crash a jet instead.”

Maverick continued. “Respect. Protection. Communication. If either of you break their hearts, I will fly a restored Tomcat into your apartment.”

“And I’ll backseat it,” Iceman added, deadpan.

Noah raised a hand. “Are we allowed to be terrified and flattered at the same time?”

“Yes,” both dads said in unison.

Maverick paced. “Let’s make this simple. Our kids are badasses. Brilliant, beautiful, Top Gun-winning pilots. If either of you so much as scratch their hearts—”

“I’ll personally oversee your reassignment to Antarctica,” Iceman finished.

Nikola smiled sweetly at Noah and ran a hand along his sleeve. “They love me a little too much.”

“I love you a lot too much,” he whispered back, charmed and doomed.

Ace threw an arm around Milo’s waist. “Good luck surviving them, babe.”

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

Noah had faced enemy fighters, dodged missile locks, and once landed an F/A-18 with half an engine. But nothing—nothing—compared to stepping into the Kazansky-Mitchell home and coming face to face with the two most legendary figures in naval aviation.

Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was every bit as intimidating as the stories said. Unshakable posture, eyes like cold steel, and the kind of silence that made you overthink your breathing. Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell—cool, infamous, unreadable—wasn’t easier either. He watched Noah like a hawk with a radar lock.

Noah’s voice came out a little too fast when he said, “Big fan, sir. I’ve studied the Black forest footage, the Siege of Garat, the Night Carrier Run—”

“Which of those was classified?” Iceman asked, softly.

Noah’s stomach dropped. “...All of them, sir.”

Maverick arched an eyebrow. “And yet you studied them.”

He swallowed. “Hypothetically.”

Nikola’s hand slipped into his. She didn’t even flinch, and that gave him a second wind. She believed in him. The problem was… he wasn’t sure he was enough for her. Nikola was a prodigy—fighter pilot, hacker, walking storm of brilliance wrapped in silk and titanium.

Noah could fly, sure, but he still felt like some wild kid from Pensacola with a cocky grin and an engine to prove himself. What if they saw that? What if they thought he wasn’t good enough for her?

“Relax,” Nikola whispered to him later on the patio, when Maverick had wandered off to lecture Ace about the perils of falling for SEALs.

“I can’t,” Noah whispered back. “Your dad’s an admiral who won Top Gun and can probably kill me with his pinky. And your other dad just looked at me and I forgot my name.”

Nikola smiled. “I love you.”

And that one phrase nearly made him cry.

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

Milo had walked into war zones quieter than this living room.

Ace—cocky, brilliant, absurdly attractive—sat beside him with a lopsided grin and no sense of danger. He had brought Milo, a SEAL with five years on him, into the home of Iceman and Maverick, who might be retired but ran deeper in the Navy than the ocean itself.

He’d met presidents and Joint Chiefs. But here? He felt like a recruit all over again.

Admiral Kazansky looked at him with that terrifying brand of calm power. Maverick said very little, which somehow made it worse.

Milo sat ramrod straight, replaying every interaction he’d had with Ace in his head—was that one kiss in the hangar technically public? Did that off-duty beach weekend break regs? Had he ever accidentally called Ace “baby” over comms?

And then there was the other panic-inducing thought:

He wanted to marry Ace. Had for months now.

But if he said that—if he let that slip—they’d discharge him with a boot print on his ass and a polite letter of death. Or worse, they’d disapprove, and Milo didn’t think he could handle that. Not from them. Not from Ace’s family.

So he stayed quiet. Almost too quiet.

Later, on the porch, Ace touched his shoulder gently. “You okay?”

“I want to marry you,” Milo blurted. “I mean—not now. I mean yes, now. I mean, someday. And also I think your dad could absolutely kill me with a spoon.”

Ace blinked. Then smiled slowly. “You’re lucky I like honesty.”

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

Later, when everyone had gone to bed and the house was quiet, Maverick and Iceman sat on the back porch, fingers intertwined. Iceman took a sip of his tea and said to Maverick, “They’re both scared of us.”

“Good,” Maverick replied, arms crossed. “They should be.”

And somewhere in the hallway, Ace shouted, “WE CAN STILL HEAR YOU!”

“I WASN'T WHISPERING.” Maverick yelled back. "AND I MEANT EVERYTHING I SAID".

Iceman smiled faintly. “But they love our kids.”

Maverick sighed. “That’s what matters.” He opened and closed his mouth, trying to put his thoughts into words, looking adorable. Many decades later, Tom Kazansky fell in love again. “Do you realize what we’ve built?” Maverick whispered.

Iceman kissed his temple. “A legacy. A home. A future.”

Inside, two of the most brilliant pilots on earth texted their partners emojis of fighter jets, kisses, and flames.

And just beyond, under the quiet hum of the stars, love carried on—loud, loyal, and legendary.

Bonus II

The End (Again). (Probably)

[dcdreamblog]

Could you tell us anything about the Battle of El Paso. When I looked into the third Blue Beetle I was really interested in this and was hoping for further information on some stuff I saw talked about and confirmation in what was accurate.

Here's stuff I gathered: Only three former JLI members arrived in the city in the midst of the invasion. Some have claimed Peacemaker was there but no images of his rather famous costume have shown up. Blue Beetle was actually not seen in the battle but he did show up with Booster Gold at the end and the Reach's main ship went down despite no one being near it. Time travel as an inflitration tool maybe? Why did no one else rush there?

Civilian(best word I can think to use) metahumans involved in the city's defense. Not trying to out anyone but are those rumors true?

A military presence? Some people have posted blurred photos of people welding military style weaponry but in obviously civilian clothes. Some people have actually claimed those were not standard issue weapons, but some sort of experimental tech

The so called "Battle of El Paso" is really an object lesson in how most superhero fights actually work even when the stakes are really high. So, background. For the previous few months the Earth had been 'infiltrated' by an alien race known as The Reach

(A photo of the 3 main Reach representatives seen on Earth) The Reach had made seemingly peaceful contact with the Earth, offering exchanges of advanced technology at very little cost. They even provided support for the newly appeared Blue Beetle who it turned out had been wearing a piece of Reach technology for his high tech battle armor. In REALITY the Reach were an infamous race across the galaxy who had at one time held a large, forcefully conquered empire only to be pushed back by the Green Lantern Corps and restricted from further military expansion. To circumvent treaty restrictions they had adopted a pattern of subverting planetary independence over a long period such as the production of a soft drink that would increase human docility in future generations before engineering a disaster that would place humanity in a position to sign away our planet's mineral rights. Blue Beetle was able to uncover their plot due to the bond with his malfunctioning battle suit and sent a letter (yes, a pen and paper letter) for help because of the Reach's ability to monitor any technological form of communication. This is why it was only allowed to reach a small circle of allies before his final plan was put into motion, they had to act before the Reach knew they had been outmaneuvered because the Reach had already moved their fleet of strip mining equipment onto the planet which could cause ecological catastrophe if they were allowed to act before being cornered. The Reach did attempt to retaliate once Blue Beetle made his move, seemingly capturing the young hero and laying siege to El Paso directly. No one knows why per se, it may have been an attempt to wipe out whatever evidence they believed the heroes had against them OR a movement for fait accompli to begin taking territory now that their cover had been blown.

Only three superheroes were known to be at the battle, Ice, Fire and Green Lantern Guy Gardner. The presence of a Green Lantern was imperative because he was the only one with authority to "arrest" the Reach's invasion fleet (in reality what he did once the Reach forces had been turned back was make a very overt threat that they could either clear out of Earth orbit SHARPISH or he would get the entire Corps up their ass fast enough to make their head spin) The people of El Paso rose up in large part to defend themselves, including a large amount of work done by a metahuman gang calling themselves The Posse. Not much is known about the group in general but they seem to be generally benign, more of an attempt by extranormal individuals to band together for protection than anything nefarious. Metahumans, like most maligned minorities are more likely to be victims of violence than its cause. The reports of military equipment being deployed can most likely be chalked up to the heroes stockpiling as many advantages as possible ahead of the battle kicking off. They were placed in the unenviable position where the population of El Paso itself would be one of the things holding the line and they wanted to give people the best possible chance to defend themselves and their families. The people of El Paso DID in fact hold the line, the Reach's forces were routed in full and within hours the entire superhero community had scrambled to impound the Reach everywhere they had set up shop. Within a couple of days the Green Lantern Corps arrived in orbit to escort the Reach out of Terran Space (and helpfully defined for us what our planetary space actually IS from a legal perspective, along with a few other bits of galactic law that have helped us keep this from being repeated in future). It was later discovered that the Reach had purposefully waited for a moment when many of Earth's Green Lanterns were off world which really should demonstrate to us how afraid even galactic empires are of crossing the green line. From what we've been told the Reach disavowed any responsibility for their "rogue" fleet's actions but that flew about as well as could be expected and the Reach's little loophole was dismantled across the galaxy under GL supervision. So the Blue Beetle and friends didn't just save the world, they saved a couple dozen.

[tainbocuailnge]

thinking about the terrible victoria arc and how it could be less terrible. taking chapter 14 as premise & reverse engineering how to better get to that emotional payoff (namely the babel squad finally getting closure for theresa's death and babel's downfall & the fate of the sarkaz being severed) without throwing the base concepts of the other chapters out completely i think for starters the entirety of chapter 9 should just be an event instead. so much of the dublinn plotline was in an event already (what the firelight casts) and ever since ch9 most of "the dublinn plotline" has just been eblana ominously hovering in the distance, its just bloating things with no meaningful contributions. that does mean taking horn and bagpipe out too, much as I like them, but I think they can shine better when they're not competing with so many other white women for empty screentime anyway.

then you want the victoria arc proper to have you meet the self salvation corps asap after sneaking into the city and the core tension is going to be between siege and her gang as face of the nobility even if they individually might not agree with that label, the self salvation corps as representative of the common people of londinium who may hate the nobles but still have their own unsustainable british nationalism to work through, and rhodes island as altruistic outsiders whose reasons for getting involved don't actually have to do with victoria itself. clovisia was obviously supposed to be an amiya expy before she got forgotten almost immediately after her debut, but keeping the focus on these three groups would ideally also get some use out of that.

I said in a post i made after i read ch11 that it really isn't hard to see what siege's gang and the steam knight are supposed to represent, the symbol of victoria's honor and glory was betrayed by the greed of its nobles and its rightful heir is running a street gang, if you want to save victoria you have to decide what kind of "victoria" is worth saving to you. so in the victoria arc that doesn't suck these three parties are gonna have to actually talk about and contend with their inevitably clashing images and visions of victoria, and steam knight is gonna have to be a mandatory boss.

I also feel like manfred was fought too early for how much backstory weight he has to the babel gang and how long he sticks around after that. as if in ch10 they straight up didn't know yet that victoria arc was gonna end in being about babel, which might genuinely have been the case. so in the better victoria arc im making up in my head his bossfight is gonna get pushed back a few chapters.

like i'm thinking first victoria chapter you fight steam knight, it starts with meeting the self salvation corps and has you quickly throw everything on that gamble of getting siege the sword because both the glasgow gang and the corps buy enough into the idea of a past glorious victoria that can be brought back to try that only to have to face the decrepit husk of that glorious past in order to get it. siege can be passive in this one still, because her doing basically nothing is going to last only one chapter here instead of two and a half and it's going to serve a point.

so now you have the sword but both the gang and the corps are quite shaken about how they obtained it, and in the second chapter tensions between the three factions begin to rise when the obvious ideological disagreements about where to go next become impossible to postpone. you fight damazti here because the cluster is gonna be an awesome plot device for pushing mutual distrust and paranoia. honestly I don't even remember what the deal with damazti cluster was or what it was supposed to contribute so in the better victoria arc they do something about that too probably. and siege is forced to form actual opinions and say them out loud, and they're going to differ from what the rest of the glasgow gang is saying.

then by the third chapter you're able to sort out that internal conflict enough to finally muster the forces to fight manfred, this is probably where you get siege actually forming the exemplars and stuff, showing leadership and ideals and all that. i think allerdale can eat shit and so can the npc members of siege's gang so I'm cutting them out, we're putting all the focus on forcing these royal fake street punks from siege's posse and plain londinium factory workers from the self salvation corps to find common ideological ground. i like delphine though delphine can stay. there was a scene in one of these chapters with siege and amiya talking about their responsibility as figureheads that i liked (because it almost did something with siege) that i think would fit here, and it's an obvious chance to do something with clovisia too. like this is a good point to talk about more abstract ideas of leadership and turning people into figureheads and the way people will turn to a single person to save them, to start making it a bit more about theresa too. so here you get rhodes trying not to drag their feet because it's the part where it starts actually getting personal for them, materially because several members have a history with manfred but conceptually because there's an incoming shift of focus

defeating manfred marks rhodes island having to admit that they're very much in it for theresa and the sarkaz and their own personal history rather than just altruism towards "victoria", vague as that concept has become these past few chapters, so you get a somewhat more natural shift into the sanguinarch and the feranmut skeleton and finally theresa because we can sensibly compare the ideal and reality of the glorious war-torn homeland between victoria and kazdel, and the more abstract throughline of where the border between honoring the past and being dragged down by it lies. logistically the manfred fight would probably be in order to get out of the city and investigate the vampire shit so he'd serve as a kind of border between this being about victoria/londinium and this being about something beyond that in that way too.

and ch13 and 14 is when things finally started picking up so I don't think they actually need all that much tweaking beyond making it consistent with the things changed in the stuff before it. and probably cutting out some more characters. because the worst part really is that the focus was just all over the fucking place so just keeping the cast more manageable would do a lot. i think that teacher woman was interesting enough to be allowed to stay and that guy who killed himself in front of the sanguinarch was fun he can stay too. but i feel like the nightingale plotline might have to go.

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 11

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,438 of 29,558

Start | Prev | Next

AO3 Link

Frottica has no friendly faces to offer us, only howling wind and bitter cold. If the air was thin in Wittica it's threads of ice this far up in the mountain range. It's good and I like it that way. As each arctic gust blows my black peacoat open and stabs me with a chilled knife, I feel the tether of reality to my situation.

I moved back into the sleeping cabin after we left Wittica, and to the Wizard's respectable credit, he hadn't brought up how I had shut down after the meeting with Morrible. Madame Morrible, actually. They were so familiar that when I asked him if we would see her again at Rouncible, he gave me a queer look as if I had addressed her by some childish nickname. She was a woman of great accomplishments and Headmistress of Shiz University. It would be a great faux pas if I were to ever address her as anything other than Madame Morrible.

The possibility of accidentally insulting someone else once we get to the safe house has been eating at me since that moment. All of this, the war and secrecy, was so foreign and new. What I had experienced back in the Emerald City between the Wizard and Ambassador Humak was shallow compared to the depths of the political web of Oz that we were now swimming in, groping for any sort of lifeline.

Once in the train station, we make our way up to the counter and the Wizard asks for any correspondence for and Oscar Diggs or Engine 1701.

"Mail's running late," the concierge says, "but there is a letter that came yesterday for Engine 1701." He fishes out a mint green envelope from one of the back cubbies and gives it to the Wizard.

"It's for you," the Wizard says, almost astonished. He hands me the envelope, and I can see that it’s from Bruno back in the Emerald City.

"How?" I ask, smoothing my thumb over my name, trying to see if the ink is real. "The city is under siege."

"He must've snuck it out," the Wizard says. "Come on, let's get some lunch."

We walk to the diner, and I glide my finger underneath the seal, trying not to tear the delicate paper. I’d have to find a safe place to put it once we got back on the train. "This means he's alive," I say as we sit down.

"It means that he was alive when he sent it," the Wizard corrects. "I haven't gotten news of death tolls yet... Hopefully, we'll get some today. I'm sure they're still... counting bodies.

I pull the letter from the envelope. The top right corner of the paper was addressed two days prior.

"We made it through the night," I recite. "Prince Fiyero has escaped, and we're still looking for the Grimmerie, but we have rid the palace of any Winkies. The ambassador probably stashed it somewhere in the palace thinking he'd be able to come back and get it.

"I checked on Fileah this morning. She's alright. A little shaken, but alright. I'm making sure that the kids there have enough food and heat. That place is like an ice box. It isn't right. Kids with no coats and the fires are nothing but coals. Fileah wanted to know where you were. I tried to explain it to her without talking about the ongoing investigation, but I don’t think it made much sense. She asked when she could see you again. I told her that it would hopefully be soon.

"We haven't gotten a good count of the dead yet, but it's good you got out when you did. A few bystanders were killed in the attack. The Gale Force is looking into identifying them so their families can be informed, but they've been stretched thin with spy efforts lately.

"It's a huge risk putting all of this into a letter, but I'm doing my best to get it smuggled out of here and away from enemy hands. I've got a friend in one of the amnesty medic units, but even that is not guaranteed safe. Don’t expect further correspondence from me.

"Tell the Wizard that we're working around the clock to find ways to break through the roadblocks and get the city restored. We'll succeed or die trying.

"-Bruno."

We sit in silence together, letting the verbal ghost of Bruno linger. The Wizard stares at the letter, tapping his index finger against the table.

"That's it?" he asks.

I flip the letter over; nothing is on the back. "That's it," I reply.

He drags his hand over the lower half of his face, leaning back into the booth. "They haven't even counted the dead yet," he says to no one in particular.

Those words linger over the meal as we half-heartedly eat our bacon sandwiches and drink watery burnt coffee. Every bite feels like a herculean effort, knowing that my own sister is being kept in a freezer and that Bruno alone is seeing to her being fed while also fighting a siege. If I was ever going to see her again, I would have to find a way to slip away from the Wizard, before we got on that train to Rouncible.

We head back to the concierge to find that mail has arrived with two envelopes for Oscar Diggs in care of Engine 1701. If I pretend I have a question to ask the conductor once we get back to the train, I think, then I can get away and have time to hide.

"Anything good?" I ask him. I have to act normal.

"Death tolls," he says quietly, eyes glued to the one paper. We slip away from the counter where people might hear us and onto a wooden bench meant for passengers heading back to Wittica. This far up into the Pertha hills, there are hardly any trains that continue north. There were a few smaller villages up north and the hunting lodges for the particularly wealthy, but they were so few and far between that the board for departures going north only showed one time of departure for seven o'clock this evening.

"How bad?" I ask, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm. He turns from the paper, briefly glancing to where I have touched him, and then looks me in the eye.

"Hundred of the palace guards. Half the Emerald Guard. Some party guests," he says.

I squeeze his arm, trying to let him know that everything will be okay. "We can come back from it. There's always the backup of Gillikin."

He doesn't say anything to that, simply moving on to the next letter. This one is from Governor Thropp. Good news that makes me breathe a sigh of relief. A favor repaid was exactly what the Wizard needed. He tears the letter open and as he reads it his face darkens into a grave expression.

"Thropp isn't coming," he says.

There are no good words to say to that. It's impossible. I know nothing of the man, but everything of the Wizard. You did not refuse the Wizard of Oz. Whatever power he had, he had earned the name Oz the Great and Terrible. He was the Wonderful Wizard of Oz and all of the benevolence that came with the title. Maybe he didn't get everything he wanted, but it would be unthinkable to refuse him. To be in direct rebellion would be a sign of wickedness of the heart.

The Wizard gets up from the wooden bench and walks silently toward the exit for the train platform. I follow after him, my pathetic boots clicking on the tile floor to match his long strides.

"Morrible said she was going to talk to the Lord-Mayor," I offer, trying to bring some ray of shining hope back into the situation.

He doesn't respond to that.

"A thousand guards is more than enough to replace what we lost," I offer. We are back to the train car and he turns on me.

"I don't want to hear it!" he snaps, startling me. "I am good as dead without Thropp's help. I have no way of forcing him to help if all of my troops are locked in an Emerald Box. Do you get that? Everything…. Everything that I have built for the past fifty years is about to be rocks. It’s going to be rubble. Just..." He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply, hands held up to silence. "I need time to think. I- I need to be alone."

I can feel my bottom lip trembling as he steps into the passenger car and shuts the door behind him. This is what I wanted, right? To be left unsupervised so that I could slip off? There are a few strangers milling about the train station – bums, really, with the holes in their clothes and shoes worn fabric-thin – but I need to be alone. I need privacy. My hand reaches for the passenger car handle but shies away from it. The train station seems like exactly the wrong place, so I hop down onto the tracks, hoping to find some engine heading back to Wittica. As I step around engine 1701,  I peer into the cab, hoping that the conductor has stepped away for a bit.

Unfortunately, when I get to the doorway, I can see a man in a sooty gray uniform – probably a railway worker – sweeping coal dust out from the cab floor of the engine. I try to slip away without notice but he calls out to me.

"Oy! Miss! You can't be running around the tracks!" he shouts. "You're going to get run over."

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling my cheeks burn as if I were a child scolded. Near the engine component, the smell of smoke and ash is unavoidable. It makes it impossible to think about anything else besides wanting to hold your nose. There is a creeping fear that if you breathe too deeply you'll die hacking up a lung.

"Well then get off alright?" he says. "I'm pulling this engine out in ten minutes and I don't want anything gumming up the works."

I hurry back around the train, wishing that I could punch him for ruining my plans. I have ten minutes to disappear before the Wizard comes out to get me.

Once back up on the platform, I walk down it quickly enough to put some distance between me and the train. I need to be careful not to walk too fast so that anyone looking might make note of me and report which direction I went to the Wizard if he came looking. Frottica is almost identical to Settica and I smile for a moment thinking how funny it is that the two towns form drab slices of bread for the colorful sandwich of Wittica. There are some plain-looking shops just ahead: a tailor, a bakery, a bank. Those will be the first places he looks. I make a right turn down the cobblestone street, pulling my coat tighter around me from the biting wind. Wherever I'm going, I need to get there soon, before I get frostbite.

I scan the shops, trying to swallow the fresh memory of the Wizard tearing into me. It really was my fault for setting him off like that. Why couldn't I have just kept my big mouth shut? It was so obvious that things had gone from bad to worse with the lack of support from Munchkinland. A thousand guards would not be anywhere near enough if his estimates of a 5000-strong Winkie host were true. Optimism only got you so far, and even I knew that. Why else would I be running away to save my sister by myself? Whatever magic he holds would do no good if she ended up dead.

I turn the corner, thanking the Unnamed God that I am finally doing what's right. If I had stayed on that train I might as well have signed her death certificate. I would need to come back here and find the railway worker someday to thank him. If he hadn't told me that the train was pulling out in ten minutes-

I stop, trying to put two and two together. Maybe it had been the awful choking smoke or the biting cold, but the man who was in the cab of the engine looked nothing like the barrel-chested and balding man from the boiler room.

I grab my head, trying to focus. I need to keep going, to get out of here before someone comes looking for me. And yet, here I am worrying about some stupid train conductor… or was he a railway worker? My feet refuse to budge any further down the cobblestone street.

Something is wrong. I don't know how long I've been gone, but if I can warn him, maybe he'll listen. If something really is wrong he can fix it and I’ll find another way to get away while he’s fixing it. My hand grips the ten dollars in my pocket as I race back to the train. It's a promise: a promise that after this, it'll be the last time I see him.

I'm wheezing when I get back to the platform, the thin and icy air stabbing my lungs with its crystalline fingers, but I can't help smiling. The train is still there. I made it in time. Ten yards away from the platform, the train blows its whistle and slowly the smile drops from my face. My legs are still running, but I know I won't be able to get off if I get on. Smoke has already started to billow up from the stack.

The thought about optimism from earlier occurs to me. He wasn't guaranteed to save my sister, only I could do that. But if there was something wrong with the train conductor, who would warn him? Who was there to save him?

The wheels creak forward and I push my legs harder and faster into the ground, diverting my course toward the moving train. I reach the door and heave it open to find the Wizard standing there. He pulls me in and shuts the door.

"I felt the train start moving and I- I didn't realize we were leaving so soon." His eyes roam over me, taking in my wind-reddened face and the way I'm gasping for air. "I'm sorry that I said that stuff earlier. It's just that-"

"Something's wrong," I cut him off, wheezing. "The train... Something's wrong."

[we-are-siege-engineer]

Current spite fixation is the Cybertruck from Tesla. May or may not get around to condensing what we know on its flaws and what I can guess in a piece, trying to keep it shorter this time.

[shiyorin]

What do you think it would be like if primarchs used social media?

Lion El'Jonson:

Private account, doesn't accept follower requests

Rarely posts, usually just sunset or forest photos

Uses emojis sarcastically in replies

Has 20 followers but thinks it's way too many

Fulgrim:

Aesthetic pictures pose artfully depict exotic hobbies and runway couture 

Filters all photos to perfection  

Constantly debates high art vs pop culture 

Thirst traps cause monthly massacres

"Like for a follow back 🔥" 

Perturabo:

Photos are exclusively poorly-lit fortress blueprints 

Bio is 25000 character treatise on siege tactics

Follows exactly 12 history scholars 

Hates everyone and everything on the site 

Actually ran some incisive political commentary bots before being banned

Jaghatai Khan: 

Only posts the sickest motocross and extreme sports clips

Videos have insane views but no captions 

Fans think he's a cryptid until rare livestreams 

Hijacks Fulgrim's comments to hype rad stunts

Leman Russ:

Changed his name to 'Wolf Daddy 🐺'

Shirtless hunting/drinking photos get 10K likes

Roasts everyone in comments but they love it  

Followers think he's a viking hipster meme page

Follows biker gangs, sled dog accts, scholars of old Terra 

Rogal Dorn:

Only posts are architectural blueprints and records of fortifications

Gets into epic debates about structural principles in comments  

No one knows if he actually loads new content or just archives old

Somehow gains tons of followers thirsting for DILF

Konrad Curze:

Pure darkness and screams in hazy JPEGs 

3 followers and they're all bots

Posts disturbing ‘prophecies’ and murder puzzles

Under investigation for doxxing

Sanguinius: 

Angelic selfies bring all the followers to his page    

Flowing locks and golden abs get 20K likes instantly   

Quotes poetry in every reply but no one understands 

Only follows animal shelter and children's hospital accounts

Ferrus Manus:

Only follows engineering/robotics pages

Posts heavily filtered machine shop mini-documentaries 

Photos of custom machines that make engineers weep

Comments are unintelligible techno-babble  

Somehow gains huge gym bro following thirsting for muscle

Angron:

Gets banned monthly for graphic content and abuse

Posts angry rants about society in broken caps

Got suspended after sending death threats to Guilliman

Only follower is Khârn who comments 'THIS' on everything  

Roboute Guilliman:

Shares updates on the latest Codexes 

Only follows serious history/philosophy lecture pages

Posts long analyses of governance strategies 

Constantly lectures others in comments

Has blocked half his followers for trolling

Mortarion:

Aesthetic is grimy gas mask selfies in back alleys

ONLY reposts plague doctor memes from 2003

Bio is endless copypasta about essential oils

Gains cult following of goths, metal heads and preppers

Magnus:

Endless livestreams talking about theoretical magic at 3AM with 2 viewers. 

Tries making TikToks explaining sorcery but the videos are an hour long each.

Overexplains memes and emojis in long-winded threads

Memes and facts threads blow up as the most esoteric

Horus Lupercal:

Selfies showing off abs get him 50K followers in a week

Posts stunning photos from across the Imperium with #blessed captions

Fan club is half the mankind 

DMs from people asking for selfies blow up his notifications  

Lorgar Aurelian:

Aesthetic is dark robes and candlelit monasteries

Constantly reposting zealot sermons out of context

Accidentally starts wars of faith whenever he livestreams

Got suspended for uploading hardcore Slaneeshi hymns

Still has 10 alt accounts all named Brother [REDACTED]

Vulkan:

Only follows puppy accounts and craft bloggers

Posts Happy Holiday baking tutorials and dad jokes

Likes and comments positivity on everyone's posts

Followers think he's the nicest DILF ever online

Secretly the biggest wholesome meme page

Corvus Corax:

Only darkness, shadow puppets and cryptic poems

No one knows if he's real or a myth on the deep web

Internet detectives can’t trace his true identity  

Only sends encrypted coordinates in mysterious DMs  

No one has any idea what he's trying to say  

1 follower is Alpharius who only replies 'No, I'm Alpharius'

Alpharius/Omegon:

Constantly pretending to be other online  

No one knows their true forms or agenda 

Takeovers of government sites spark conspiracies

Leaves clues implicating everyone else’s schemes

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

There's an interesting bit of ludonarrative I've been noticing with the Rainbow Six Siege operators in Arknights. Something that gets pretty consistently brought up, and really emphasized in places like Frost's Module, is that while Team Rainbow are very skilled and much more technologically advanced than Terrans are, they make a trade-off: they're a lot physically weaker. Frost's Welcome Mat, for instance, is criticized for its lack of force by the Engineering Department operator who examines it, remarking that even they could easily get out of it, and when Frost asks for a hunting bow to use, they give her a Sarkaz hunting bow, which she struggles to draw the string of.

Outside of...the six stars...you can actually see this in the kits that they have. Several R6S operators are very good at attacking rapidly (Tachanka, Blitz, Iana, Fuze, Doc, Ash) because they're well trained and are proficient in using weapons that are pretty rare on Terra. You can see this in the absolutely crazy numbers they're allowed to have: Blitz and Iana are allowed the truly fucked up ASPD buffs of +200 and +300 respectively, with Fuze coming in with a more modest +90 APSD; Tachanka, Doc, and Ash can significantly reduce their attack interval more than other operators, with Tachanka and Ash reducing their attack intervals by 85% and 90%, and Doc reducing his by a flat 0.7 seconds.

They lack good ATK buffs though. In general, for physical operators, clearly DEF thresholds is really important, and this is something that all of the R6S operators except Ela struggle with. They either have to try to attack from a different angle (Tachanka's S1), ignore some DEF (Tachanka S1 again and Doc's talent), rely on limited-use explosives (Ash and Fuze), or exploit some conditional damage (Ash and Blitz). Even Ela, who is the most useful even if she can't do her thing, still works best on enemies affected by her mines.

They all tend to struggle against high DEF enemies as a result. Ash, and especially Ela, tend to struggle the least, but its pretty consistent. It doesn't do wonders for their gameplay, I have avoided talking about Frost for quite some time because she seems to not have any way of getting around high DEF enemies at all, but it's neat. They've given Team Rainbow an actually interesting mechanical identity in this way and I really enjoy it.

It's a shame we get so little of them. Even just reading through their new Operator Records revealed stuff I genuinely want to know more about.

[northstar-galactic-command]

Shipkillers, Part One

Shady marketing materials will sometimes claim a weapon from a particularly license is “ship scale” or “naval grade”. Some pilots will also claim that the custom, overpowered monstrosity they’ve attached to their Mech is a “ship-class” gun. But what does that mean, anyway?

On a purely technical level, it means absolutely nothing. All of these terms are fluff and marketing buzzwords. There is no formal or official definition of what is and isn’t a naval weapon. At the most literal level, if someone bolted a GMS Type-I Pistol to the side of a freighter then any Frame equipped with a Type-I Pistol is technically armed with a “ship gun”.

A more realistic definition for so-called “naval weapons” is that they are dedicated ship-to-ship weapons that have been scaled down for use on a Mech, Mech weapons that have been scaled up into a ship-to-ship weapon, or Mech weapons that operate using the same principles as a popular ship-to-ship weapon.

In a hilarious twist the Pinaka missile launcher is a simultaneous example of both the first and second definitions*, while Harrison Armory’s Tachyon Lance is a pretty straightforward example of the third.

All that being said, claiming a chassis weapon is a “naval gun” because it has a loose naval counterpart is like claiming something is an artillery mech because it’s equipped with an IPS-N. hand cannon. The hand cannon uses explosive propellant to launch a high-caliber projectile just like the GMS Type-III howitzer and HA siege cannon, and even has “cannon” in its name! That still doesn’t make it an artillery cannon.

There is one major exception to this, and it’s the main reason we even have to have this discussion. So let’s talk about the elephant in the room: the Apocalypse Rail.

First, we need to clear up some misconceptions. The Apocalypse Rail does not use the same technology as the long and short-spool guns found on warships. It was never put on a ship, and it was never meant to be put on a ship. Not in its current form, at least.

The Apocalypse Rail was originally a scale test of an entirely new type of spool weapon that Harrison Armory hoped would eventually replace existing spinal spoon guns. It was released to the general public as a form of crowd-sourced field testing, to give HA engineers live data they could use to help work out the kinks before attempting to put it on a ship.

Getting it to the point it could actually be deployed to a real battlefield was the tricky part. It was too big, too volatile, and required too much power to include as a standalone weapon. So instead they built the Apocalypse Rail around the only Chassis big enough to handle it: the new (at the time) Barbossa frame. Or the Barbossa was built around the Apocalypse Rail, depending on who you ask.

Unfortunately for those desiring taxonomic precision, this came with a PR problem. The Barbossa was built under the explicit orders of John Creighton Harrison II. It was supposed to, and this is a direct quote, “stand as the unstoppable image of Harrison I”. There was no way HA was going to let words “miniature”, “small”, or “light” be affiliated with the signature superweapon of the biggest frame they’d ever released, a frame that was supposed to be an idol to their beloved founder. So instead of an accurate classification like “small-scale gravitational spool gun” or “miniature exponential gravitic catapult”, the weapon was marketed as a “ship-class spool weapon”.

…which is where the problems start.

There’s no shortage of people who like to perform statistical analyses of Mechs and their equipment, and there’s no end of data for them to comb through: official specs, field tests, action reports, simulations accurate down to the last spec of dust, videos of weird stunts someone pulled in the Long Rim, and so much more. The official reports done by corporations or nationstates almost never see the light of day, but plenty of others are willing to take a more public stab at it. Some of these are extremely methodical and well researched, some are hot garbage, and virtually all of them have at least some bias (intentional or otherwise).

The Omninet is flooded with articles, videos, and think pieces on each and every major Frame, most arguing why the Frame is either the best thing ever or utter trash. While it has its supporters, the Barbarossa rarely comes out well in these sorts of amateur reviews. A common complaint (aside from its ridiculous size) is that the terrifying Apocalypse Rail is overhyped. It's easy to find a weapon that can be modified to hit just hard as the Apocalypse Rail does against an unarmored or lightly armored target, without the Rail's many drawbacks. For example, according to most reports a full burst from a stock Leviathan Heavy Assault Cannon has higher average damage than an Apocalypse Rail, and a mech with a Leviathan doesn't need to sit still while their gun charges.

This causes some misunderstandings. Pilots look at the numbers for their over-caliber artillery cannon or super-charged turbolaser and see that it's averaging as much or more damage as the legendary "ship-class spool weapon". If the Apocalypse Rail is a ship-scale weapon and their gun hits just as hard, they must be carrying naval ordinance too!

What most people forget is that the Apocalypse Rail wasn't designed to shoot at Frames, or aircraft, or tanks. It's honestly wasted against them, like trying to kill ants with a sledgehammer. The Rail was designed to be used against hundred-meter long slabs of armor that can't dodge or take cover. It's an anti-ship, anti-fortification weapon, and that's where it shows its true power.

An IPS-N portable bunker can shrug off hits from siege cannons, Pinaka missile barrages, and fully-charged solidcore lasers. It’s four times as thick as the GMS Pattern-A Jericho deployable cover, designed to tank sustained barrages from super-heavy ordinance.

An Apocalypse Rail can destroy a portable bunker in a single shot.

Even if you somehow doubled the bunker's thickness and put it under two overlapping Aegis shield generators, a fully-charged Apocalypse Rail will still vaporize the bunker in a single hit. It’s that powerful. So why does it suck?

To put it bluntly, the Apocalypse Rail can barely hit the broadside of a barn. It has a deviation measured in meters. This shouldn't come as a surprise: it's a highly volatile weapon system built directly into an infamously clumsy Frame that must be totally stationary while charging and firing. Everything from gravity to humidity to atmospheric pressure to density of air particulates can impact the weapon's accuracy, and that's not even getting into the fact that enemies usually won't sit perfectly still so they can be shot. Unless the Rail is shooting at a large building, a direct hit is almost impossible. So instead of aiming at their target, most pilots will aim at something near their target.

Infantry, Frames, vehicles, and similar units don’t take damage from an Apocalypse Rail’s projectile: they get damaged by the shockwave from the projectile impacting nearby. This keeps misses from unintentionally rearranging landmarks several dozen kilometers away, and a fully charged Rail is so powerful that even a near miss can severely damage most units. It doesn't always work, however, which is how you get those amusing images of people standing in the molten crater of an Apocalypse Rail impact, totally unharmed despite everything around them having been vaporized.

Against large orbital targets, which move in predictable ways and don’t have as much terrestrial nonsense to complicate the shot, the Apocalypse Rail is devastating. In an orbital defense role, its range and damage exceed almost any other chassis-based weapon system on the market. Thus, while it isn't purpose-built for the job, the Apocalypse Rail is still the closest thing most pilots ever get to putting “true” naval ordinance on a Mech.

But dedicated Frame-mounted anti-ship weapons do exist. They’re known as “Shipkillers”.

To be continued…

*: The Pinaka was based on a ship-to-ship missile system, which was sized down for use on a mechanized Chassis. The original naval weapon was phased out, but the Pinaka performed so well as part of the Monarch license that SSC scaled it back up and rereleased it as part of their LIMITD line of naval weapons.

[josefavomjaaga]

Another letter from Duroc to Murat

This time from 1809.

This letter was taken from the publication of Murat’s correspondence by Paul Le Brethon, so I’m unsure wether it’s been translated before. If so, sorry for the doublette.

Putting the letter into context: Murat has been made King of Naples, obviously. Napoleon has just returned to France from Spain, where he had put Joseph back on the throne. Soult has been busy chasing Moore’s British troops back to La Coruna and is now on his way into Portugal. Ney is in Galicia, freeing nuns. Lannes and Junot are at the siege of Saragossa, Mortier and Victor are also in Spain while Bessières is back in Paris, I think. Marmont is in Dalmatia. Eugène is in Italy and already sends alarmed letters to Napoleon because the Austrians prepare for war, the Fifth Coalition War is about to begin (even if Duroc seems to not believe in it yet):

Paris, 15 February 1809 Sire, Your Majesty should not be in any doubt as to how grateful I am for the fond memories he is willing to preserve for me; he would do me a great disservice if he thought I had forgotten his kindnesses to me. Nobody forgets that here.

Your Majesty asks me for news of the Emperor. On his return from Spain, where he has always enjoyed the best of health, His Majesty came down with a fairly bad cold.This cold and some dissatisfaction that His Majesty had with the chatter in Paris during his absence had made him ill, so to speak, although his work and ordinary exercises had never suffered. His Majesty is perfectly well again and has enjoyed the pleasures of Carnival and hunting.

Our carnival was short but very cheerful. We first had at Monsieur Marescalchi's and yesterday at Monsieur l'Archichancelier's two masked balls. His Majesty went there and seemed to enjoy himself. They turned out very well. The Court has its circles and concerts as usual and the Princesses, balls as in other years. Although we are as good Catholics as in Italy, we will be extending our Carnival pleasures during Lent.

As in Paris one thing quickly follows another, there is already no more talk of what displeased the Emperor on his return and of the disgrace suffered by a great personage, especially as His Majesty is treating him better now. Your Majesty knows as well as I do what is going on. The Emperor was told that during his absence the Prince of Benevento had expressed his disapproval of the affairs in Spain, that there had been some cackling between him, the Minister of Police and Remusat; something was also said about the Minister of the Navy. All were rebuked and the Prince was disgraced by losing his position as Grand Chamberlain. There is now talk of a forthcoming appointment of senators and, as Your Majesty is well aware, this is causing quite a stir.

Business in Spain is going very well, even better than expected. The expedition to Portugal will be easy. Only the siege of Saragossa is being prolonged, but it is being conducted vigorously. They are madmen who have to be attacked house by house, and they are blown up by mines one after the other. We lost General Lacoste, the Emperor's aide-de-camp, who was in command of the engineers; he was hit in the head by a bullet.

Austria's armaments are causing a lot of talk about war being imminent; however, there is reason to believe that she will not start it and that she is arming out of fear. There is no bad rumour that is not being spread over there: according to them, we no longer have any troops left in Germany; the Emperor only left Spain because he was put off by the difficulties, and they deny all our successes.

Monsieur de Romansoff, who was here, is returning to Petersburg. It had been thought that as the correspondence started with England had always been continued, it could be resumed in these circumstances, especially since the disasters suffered by their army in Spain. With profound respect, Sire, I am Your Majesty's most humble and obedient servant. The Duke of Frioul.

[P.S.:] The notes which the Queen had sent to the Emperor in Spain have arrived here. When she left, Her Majesty gave me a commission which I am fulfilling, but I do not know whether I should continue or to whom I should go afterwards to be reimbursed.