2017 land rover discovery sport problems

Open Letter: The Switch Isn't Dead. It's Not Even Dying...

2023.06.08 13:08 TheRetroWorkshop Open Letter: The Switch Isn't Dead. It's Not Even Dying...

TL; DR: Unless Nintendo has some serious plans hidden away (i.e. whole new console for 2024), there is no way the Switch is dead pre-2030. If Nintendo comes out with either Switch Lite 2.0 and/or Switch Pro circa 2024-2026, then it's very much alive until at least 2026-2028.
Of course, after that, there will still be millions of core Switch fans that don't move to the new console until it's cheapebetter, if at all; thus, the Switch will remain fairly alive until at least 2027, if not 2035. Years after its end, as is the case with most major consoles.
Following the logic of YouTubers, the PS4 must be 'dead' now, since it no longer has new major games, and the PS5 is going strong. Yet, the PS4 is still actively supported by Sony, and has millions of core users. The PS4 won't be dead until at least 2030 (17 years). Just like the PSP, Xbox 360, and others (16–17 years).
Consoles seem to die about half-way into the life of the next generation. In other words, about 15 years (where a whole generation is akin to a whole generation of users: 25 years). This makes perfect sense.
Thus, the Switch will last, overall, at least 15 years (2017-2032).
Let's talk about it. So, there has been a lot of talk over the last few months, that the Switch is coming to an end (at least, somewhat officially). The problem is as follows:
Yes, most of these unit sales are from 2017-2018 with the original Switch, as everybody rushed on it. But, it's still selling about as good as any other single console right now, if you compare all the numbers. (Note that the Wiki link above also shows that every other niche, hybrid, and/or handheld console is failing horribly, or else doesn't even exist. There are no realistic alternatives to the Switch. The numbers speak for themselves. Maybe the PlayStation Q takes off, but I don't think it'll reach Switch levels at all, for a few reasons -- and it won't hurt Switch sales too much.)
Further, if Nintendo merely updates the Switch family in some way, even as early as late-2024, then there won't be much -- if any -- shift away from the Switch as such until at least 2026, with support remaining until at least 2030. It's illogical for them to bring out a Switch Pro for just 1–2 years; and it's illogical for them to radically shift away from the Switch family of consoles too early!
Following this logic, the Switch family (v1 through Pro) must remain not only official, but very much alive until at least 2026. This is in keeping with the life span of such a dominant, wide-ranging (either at the level of hardware or software) consoles, as the Game Boy, PS2, and Wii. After that, it shall remain semi-supported and semi-popular until at least 2030.
The fact that Tears of the Kingdom is the last big Zelda game on the system does not mean it's coming to an end. Yet, I have heard this a few times from big YouTubers and such over the last few weeks.
Let's have a look at the facts.
Hardware
On the unit/model front, we know that it's likely that a Pro model comes along by 2024 and remains strong until at least 2026. We know this because that's how it has been for almost every major console (from all companies) since the late-1990s.
The Switch is, of course, both handheld and home, which is a bit messy -- but it's primarily a home console (if we look at the stats on sales and how most people play with it). However, it's possible that we don't get the Switch Pro until 2025 or so, only furthering the life span (unless there is a whole cultural move away from the Switch, which seems unlikely).
To make a long story short, we typically see a new model/upgrade to a system every 2 years, for a total of 3–4 upgrades. After that, the system itself is slowly phased out for 2–6 years, until the new system comes out (i.e. PS4 > PS5), giving us a total life of around 8–14 years. Obviously, this depends on many factors, including (a) company direction; (b) tech issues/exact nature of the system; and (c) how long you can keep the current system dominant/strong for. After that, you will have a few extra years of support and/or popularity, until it's fully dead after around 12–18 years.
Even if the new Switch Pro only sells 20 million units, if you couple that with the 15 million OLED sales (as of 2023), then that's still close to the PS5 sales, and that's only 30% of the entire Switch family/models!
We are not only not near the end of the Switch, we're really only about 50% of the way through, I believe. But, you may define 'end of life' differently. If you define 'end of life' as, 'last massive title', then you may be correct: unclear. But, that seems moot, if it still remains popular and supported for years to come.
Software
So, let's look into this idea that every Nintendo console ends with a big Zelda game.
Of course, it's a bit more confusing than this, given all the handhelds. And, it's possible that Nintendo plans on really sticking with the Switch, in which case, they may be planning on a third Zelda game for it, or else a new massive Mario game. That will boost its energy again, more so, if coupled with a Pro model circa 2024-2025.
All of this leads me to believe that the Switch will not die until at least 2030 (and the final support won't end until at least 2035), with or without another Zelda game! However, something will be required: either a Switch Pro, a Switch Lite 2.0, and/or a new massive game outside of Zelda. And, I'm 90% certain that at least one of these is coming by 2025. Remember: worst case for the Switch is that they bring out a whole new console by 2024-2025, and slowly phase out the Switch. This still won't truly kill the Switch until at least 2030. I wouldn't call that 'soon', as some people are! That's still many years left. (I do think it's a great time to buy the OLED, however -- and it does seem that 90% of the library is complete now. Unless you really want to wait to see what they have planned for 2024-2025. Of course, the Switch Lite itself seems like a decent option purely for handheld, though it may be a struggle for big hands: there is mixed evidence on this. I don't think a Switch Lite 2.0 is likely at all, but take that with a grain of salt, as it's impossible to know.)
Remember, too: Nintendo has stated that it won't be gifting us new hardware until at least mid-2024; instead, it's focusing on new games and ports as the Switch grows out. Seems logical to me, and pretty good news for the fans.
Tears of the Kingdom is not the end, but more like mid-journey for the Switch family, with or without a new console -- so, just enjoy the ride. :)
submitted by TheRetroWorkshop to nintendo [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 12:52 Chico237 #NIOCORP~ SCANDIUM OXIDE, GREEN HYDROGEN & BLOOM ENERGY in the news! & more....

#NIOCORP~ SCANDIUM OXIDE, GREEN HYDROGEN & BLOOM ENERGY in the news! & more....

June 7, 2023~Bloom Energy, Perenco to Deploy Solid Oxide Fuel Cells in the United Kingdom~

Bloom Energy, Perenco to Deploy Solid Oxide Fuel Cells in the United Kingdom Business Wire
The Bloom Energy Server® platform, to be delivered in late 2023, will be installed at Wytch Farm in Dorset, England, the largest onshore oil field in western Europe, where it will be used to support Perenco’s baseload requirements. (Photo: Business Wire)
SAN JOSE, Calif. & LONDON--(BUSINESS WIRE)--Bloom Energy (NYSE:BE) has signed an agreement with Perenco to install 2.5 megawatts (MW) of Bloom’s solid oxide fuel cells at a site in England. Perenco is a leading independent hydrocarbon company, producing 500,000 BOE of oil and gas per day from its operations in 14 partner countries.
The Bloom Energy Server® platform, to be delivered in late 2023, will be installed at Wytch Farm in Dorset, England, the largest onshore oil field in western Europe, where it will be used to support Perenco’s baseload requirements. The agreement marks the first deployment of Bloom fuel cell technology in the United Kingdom.
“This is an important step that will demonstrate how our solid oxide fuel cell technology supports the resilience and sustainability goals of our energy-intensive clients,” said Tim Schweikert, Senior Managing Director of International Business Development at Bloom Energy.
“Perenco has always been a pioneer in innovation and long-term investment in the countries where we operate,” said Benoit de la Fouchardiere, Perenco CEO. “Today’s announcement is another important step as we continue to reduce our emissions wherever we work. We look forward to a successful initial deployment at Wytch Farm and to then expanding the use of the technology into other global operations sites.”
The agreement with Perenco is another major step in Bloom’s expansion in Europe, following the recent sales agreement for northern Europe with Elugie, a marketing partnership agreement with Telam for Spain and Portugal, and energy platform sales to Cefla and Ferrari in Italy announced in 2022.
For more information about the Bloom Energy Server, see https://www.bloomenergy.com/technology/.

JUNE 6, 2023 ~Westinghouse and Bloom Energy Sign Letter of Intent to Accelerate Zero-Carbon, Large-Scale Hydrogen Production in the Nuclear Industry~

Bloom Energy - Bloom Energy Demonstrates Hydrogen Production with the World’s Largest and Most Efficient Solid Oxide Electrolyzer
CRANBERRY TOWNSHIP, Pa. & SAN JOSE, Calif. – June 6, 2022 – Westinghouse Electric Company and Bloom Energy Corporation (NYSE:BE) today announced that they have entered into a Letter of Intent to pursue clean hydrogen production in the commercial nuclear power market. The companies are teaming to identify and implement clean hydrogen projects across the nuclear industry.
Westinghouse and Bloom Energy will jointly develop an optimized and large-scale high temperature integrated electrolysis solution for the nuclear industry. With the ability to operate 24/7 and provide high-quality steam input, nuclear plants are well-positioned to utilize electrolyzer technology and produce substantial quantities of clean hydrogen with minimal disruption to current, ongoing operations.
“Through this collaboration, we are committed to delivering an economical solution for large-scale hydrogen production in the nuclear industry, which further supports the path to net zero carbon emissions,” said Pam Cowan, Westinghouse President of Americas Operating Plant Services.
“We are proud Westinghouse has turned to Bloom and our solid oxide technology to supercharge the clean hydrogen economy,” said Rick Beuttel, vice president, hydrogen business, Bloom Energy. “Solid oxide technology is well suited for nuclear applications, efficiently harnessing steam to further improve the economics of hydrogen production. High temperature electrolysis is already garnering attention and accolades as a cost-effective and viable solution to create low-cost, clean hydrogen, which is critical to meeting aggressive decarbonization goals.”
Global demand for hydrogen and its emerging applications is projected to increase tenfold or more by 2050, surpassing the current infrastructure for producing and delivering hydrogen. As hydrogen usage expands from traditional industrial uses to the fuel of a clean future, the need to produce it in larger quantities and from low- and zero-carbon sources is clear.
The hydrogen produced in nuclear plants can be utilized to serve many industries such as renewable fuels production, oil and metals refining, ammonia synthesis, mining operations, and mobility in sectors such as heavy trucks, buses, and even air travel. The companies also are well positioned to support the U.S. Department of Energy’s developing hydrogen hubs.
About WestinghouseWestinghouse Electric Company is shaping the future of carbon-free energy by providing safe, innovative nuclear technologies to utilities globally. Westinghouse supplied the world’s first commercial pressurized water reactor in 1957 and the company’s technology is the basis for nearly one-half of the world’s operating nuclear plants. Over 135 years of innovation makes Westinghouse the preferred partner for advanced technologies covering the complete nuclear energy life cycle. For more information, visit www.westinghousenuclear.com and follow us on Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
About Bloom EnergyBloom Energy empowers businesses and communities to responsibly take charge of their energy. The company’s leading solid oxide platform for distributed generation of electricity and hydrogen is changing the future of energy. Fortune 100 companies around the world turn to Bloom Energy as a trusted partner to deliver lower carbon energy today and a net-zero future. For more information, visit www.bloomenergy.com.

MAY 7, 2023~World’s largest solid oxide electrolyzer begins producing hydrogen~

World’s largest solid oxide electrolyzer begins producing hydrogen (hydrogentechworld.com)

Bloom Energy has begun generating hydrogen from the world’s largest solid oxide electrolyzer installation at NASA’s Ames Research Center. This high-temperature unit produces 20–25% more hydrogen per MW than commercially demonstrated lower-temperature electrolyzers such as PEM or alkaline

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This electrolyzer demonstration showcases the maturity, efficiency and commercial readiness of Bloom’s solid oxide technology for large-scale, clean hydrogen production. The 4 MW Bloom Electrolyzer™, delivering the equivalent of over 2.4 tonnes per day of hydrogen output, was built, installed and operationalized in a span of two months to demonstrate the speed and ease of deployment.
“This demonstration is a major milestone for reaching net-zero goals,” said KR Sridhar, Ph.D., Founder, Chairman and CEO of Bloom Energy. “Hydrogen will be essential for storing intermittent and curtailed energy and for decarbonizing industrial energy use. Commercially viable electrolyzers are the key to unlocking the energy storage puzzle, and solid oxide electrolyzers offer inherently superior technology and economic advantages. Bloom Energy, as the global leader in solid oxide technology, is proud to share this exciting demonstration with the world: our product is ready for prime time.”
The current demonstration expands on Bloom’s recent project on a 100 kW system located at the Department of Energy’s Idaho National Laboratory (INL), which achieved record-breaking electrolyzer efficiency. In the ongoing project, 4,500 hours of full load operations have been completed with a Bloom Electrolyzer™, producing hydrogen more efficiently than any other process – over 25% more efficiently than low-temperature electrolysis.
The INL steam and load simulations replicated nuclear power conditions to validate full capability of technology application at nuclear facilities, and the pilot results revealed the Bloom Electrolyzer producing hydrogen at 37.7 kWh per kg of hydrogen. Dynamic testing conducted at INL included ramping down the system from 100 percent of rated power to 5 percent in less than 10 minutes without adverse system impacts. Even at 5 percent of rated load, the energy efficiency (kWh/kg) was as good or better than other electrolyzer technologies at their 100% rated capacity. These results will be presented at the Department of Energy’s Annual Review Meeting in Washington DC on 7 June 2023.
Dr. Ravi Prasher, CTO of Bloom Energy, said: “The amount of electricity needed by the electrolyzer to make hydrogen will be the most dominant factor in determining hydrogen production cost. For this reason, the efficiency of the electrolyzer, the electricity needed to produce a kilogram of hydrogen becomes the most critical figure of merit. This 4 MW demonstration at the NASA Ames Research Center proves that the energy efficiency of our large-scale electrolyzer is similar to the small-scale system tested at INL highlighting the strength of our modular architecture. The electrolyzer product is leveraging the Bloom platform knowhow of more than 1 GW of solid oxide fuel cells deployed in the field and providing approximately 1 trillion cumulative cell operating hours. The same technology platform that can convert natural gas and hydrogen to electricity can be used reversibly to convert electricity to hydrogen. With Bloom’s high-efficiency, high-temperature solid oxide electrolyzers, we are one step closer to a decarbonized future powered by low-cost clean hydrogen.”
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April 5, 2022 ~Scandium emerges from the shadows~

Scandium emerges from the shadows - MMTA

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Scandium has long been considered an “if” metal. If only it were available in quantity, it could transform aircraft production and fuel consumption. If only it were available in quantity, it could speed the emerging hydrogen economy. If only it were available in quantity, it could accelerate the rollout of 5G technologies. And so on.

The view has been that scandium could be used in numerous large-volume applications, if only supplies were sufficient to meet the potential demand. Manufacturers regularly cited a lack of sufficient scandium supply as the reason why they did not roll out new uses and products containing scandium.
After a near-mythic role in the 1980s (as a strengthening agent in aluminium alloys deployed in the last generation of Soviet MiG fighter aircraft and even, reputedly, in ballistic missile nosecones), scandium entered the banal in the 1990s, in sporting goods and, bizarrely, hand guns.

Bloom Energy turned the tide starting around 2010, with its introduction of fuel cells based on scandium-stabilised zirconia ceramic electrolytes. Bloom has grown rapidly and now represents perhaps 80% of the world’s annual consumption of SCANDIUM, a paltry 25t or so of oxide in 2021.

And yet, despite these rickety foundations, SCANDIUM consumption is poised to grow dramatically in the next decade, buoyed by new sources of supply and sustained by demand-side innovation.

The supply side

Let’s start with supply. Until about 2018, most scandium was supplied as a by-product in China and Russia, from uranium and titanium processing. Since then, however, much has changed.
First, Sumitomo Metal Mining built and has now commissioned a scandium recovery circuit at its Tagano Bay nickel high pressure acid leach (HPAL) plant in the Philippines. This plant recovers scandium oxalate for processing into oxide (and probably into scandium-zirconium oxide particles destined for Bloom Energy) in Japan. The plant recovers 7-8tpy of scandium oxide and when commissioned increased global supply by around 40%. Capital costs were perhaps US$5M/t of scandium oxide.
Second, the Chinese integrated titanium producer Lomon Billions has established a 20-30tpy scandium oxide facility with the potential to increase to 50tpy. The company estimates up to 100tpy of scandium oxide are available in its titanium plants using the sulphate process.
Third, in 2021, Rio Tinto commenced scandium recovery from its Sorel Tracy plant in Québec, Canada. The pilot plant can supply 3tpy of scandium oxide and cost US$6M. The site has the ability to supply an estimated 50-60tpy of oxide based on current raw material feed.
Finally, UC Rusal has both commissioned a 3tpy pilot scandium oxide plant, recovering scandium oxide from red mud deposits, and also commenced marketing and selling a range of scandium alloys (branded “ScAlution” alloys) that boast enhanced performance at low (typically 0.1%) concentrations of scandium.
Plus, it is not only Rusal that has pioneered low-scandium alloys. In the USA, Eck Industries, a specialist aluminium casting house, is commercialising cerium-based alloys in which scandium, again at low loadings, could provide additional strength as well as much reduced post-cast processing requirements.
Looking further out, there are numerous scandium projects in development, many of which should come into production around the middle of the decade, thanks to two parallel forces.
The main driver for scandium, as for so many minor metals, is vehicle electrification. There are multiple operating and development projects utilising HPAL technology to recover and separate nickel and cobalt in laterite deposits, many of which can in principle recover scandium. While the moral of Tagano Bay is that for existing plants retrofitting can be costly and low yield, there are emerging projects in Australia that are designing scandium recovery into their circuits alongside nickel and cobalt. The potential output of scandium can range from 50-100tpy or more, depending on the project.
The second driver is the heightened concerns over supply chain security for critical metals. In the EU this has led to the “ScaVanger” programme to recover scandium from titanium waste streams. In the USA, red mud scandium recovery as well as by-product scandium stand to benefit.

The demand side

The demand side is a little more complicated but nonetheless extremely positive. Bloom’s power generation business continues to grow and has surely been reinforced by severe power disruptions in the past three years in California and Texas. Moreover, Bloom has now received initial approvals for maritime power generation (IMO regulations are forcing seagoing vessels to reduce dramatically their sulphur emissions, and Bloom can facilitate this change), and Bloom is also developing its technology to run in reverse, so to speak, as a generator of hydrogen. Critically, Bloom in the past five years has managed to bring its system costs and performance under control, removing any technology-related going-concern issues.
Scandium is also a strong candidate for RF antennas able to support 5G frequencies. A typical high-end cell phone may require 100 RF filters, and in the 5G frequency range, scandium aluminium nitride is being used as the active material in these filters (called “bulk acoustic wave,” or “BAW” filters).
Aerospace is a third area of application, and while commercial aviation likely remains years away from broad use of scandium alloys, near-term use in space and autonomous aircraft is an avenue for strong potential growth of scandium alloys. The cost to place 1kg in orbit has dropped dramatically but is still of the order of US$1,000/kg, so any system weight reductions can be extremely valuable.
Electric vehicles (EVs) also offer the potential for large volumes of scandium demand. Weight reduction is the obvious reason. Lux Research has estimated a 1kg weight saving in an EV will be worth US$5 in 2030. But a second consideration is overall product cost. Scandium can reduce or potentially even eliminate the need for post-casting heat treatments, which can in some instances double the cost of an as-cast part. Thus the savings from the use of scandium alloys, especially at low scandium loadings, can be large.
In addition, as EVs shift to heat pumps in their HVAC systems, scandium can support the implementation of aluminium radiators without adding substantial system volume (as discussed by CM Group in its 2018 scandium report).
Naturally, there are other opportunities for scandium. Achieving a robust aluminium alloy able to perform at 300°C could displace large amounts of titanium, and Eck’s alloys are closing in on this goal. Maritime applications, especially in the military arena but also in autonomous vessels and ferries, could embrace scandium thanks to its greatly enhanced anti-corrosion impact in aluminium. Passenger jets are also a market that is likely to happen at some point.

Most important, perhaps, is the fact that well financed firms have entered the market and are able to supply up to about 100tpy each. Supply at this level is all-but-certain to create demand, and in turn this should stimulate new supply. Scandium’s chicken-and-egg problem, in which lack of supply held back demand that in turn held back supply, has been reversed, with growing (and reliable) supply poised to stimulate actual demand, that in turn will pull through new supply, and transform scandium from “if” to “when”.

JANUARY 2023 National Defense Act Calls out NIOBIUM & TITANIUM & SCANDIUM & the need to establish a U.S. Industrial Base for the Supply & Processing of ALL!

https://docs.house.gov/billsthisweek/20220711/CRPT-117hrpt397.pd

SCANDIUM PAGE # 246 Briefing on the Establishment of Domestic Scandium Processing Facilities in the United States

The committee believes the United States industrial base for the supply and processing of the critical mineral scandium has significant vulnerabilities. The committee also believes that the United States should seek to eliminate dependence on Chinese and Russian sources of scandium, with support from allies and partners. Accordingly, public and private sectors should cooperate closely to establish scandium processing facilities in the United States. Therefore, the committee directs the Secretary of Defense, in consultation with the Secretary of Commerce, to provide a briefing to the House Committee on Armed Services not later than May 1, 2023, on public and private sector activities, working with allied nations, to establish scandium processing facilities in the United States, especially facilities based on more efficient, cleaner, and less energy intensive technologies. This briefing will also include how these processing facilities will help the United States reduce dependence on and compete more effectively with China and Russia.
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MAY 2023 ~Exploring global supply and demand of scandium oxide in 2030 ~ (NIOCORP is Mentioned!)

Exploring global supply and demand of scandium oxide in 2030 - ScienceDirect

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Incorporation of scandium in materials has environmental benefits across multiple industrial sectors, particularly in decarbonization of energy. One pathway to mitigate greenhouse gas emissions is to generate electricity using hydrogen or synthetic liquid fuels, which are more efficient than combustion engines and easily used in co-generation of electricity and heat (IEA, 2019). The functional technology is a fuel cell. A solid oxide fuel cell (SOFC) produces electricity by oxidizing an energy carrier. The standard SOFCs produced by Bloom Energy are refrigerator-sized and input liquid or gaseous hydrocarbons (methane or biogas) to produce 100 kW of power. These cells process natural gas, biogas, or hydrogen to generate electricity with higher efficiency; up to two times higher compared to a gas-fired power station with efficiency of only 33–48% (Deepika et al., 2018). They are typically used to produce electricity and heat on-site for large buildings (Bloom Energy, 2021a). Currently, SOFC producers (e.g., Bloom Energy) utilize yttrium-stabilized zirconia and a scandia-stabilized zirconia in electrolytes; however, there are benefits of utilizing scandium over yttrium. Use of scandia-stabilized zirconia increases electro-conductivity and decreases operation temperature, resulting in higher efficiency and reliability (Deepika et al., 2018; Laguna-Bercero et al., 2009). Spurred by carbon reduction and global renewable energy initiatives, Bloom Energy is expanding its partnership worldwide (Bloom Energy, 2020, 2021b), resulting in increased demand in the SOFC market and scandium oxide required to produce SOFC boxes (Weinstein et al., 2018).
Scandium also has potential for light-weighting (alloys), which is important for improving fuel economy as it requires less energy to transport lighter materials. Currently, transportation contributes 27% to total U.S. greenhouse gas emissions and 14% globally (EPA, 2022; IEA, 2022b). The Corporate Average Fuel Economy standards require vehicle manufacturers to continuously increase fuel efficiency (NHTSA, 2022). One approach is through light-weighting by replacing conventional aluminum alloy parts in vehicles with scandium alloys, potentially reducing 10% of vehicle mass and thus 6–8% of emissions (Joost, 2012). Given that the United States passenger vehicle emissions were 3.2 gigatonnes in 2020, this would translate to 0.2–0.3 gigatonnes of reduction (IEA, 2022a). In the United States, the Build Back Better agenda mandates 50% of new vehicles in 2030 must be EVs (The White House, 2021). To push emission reductions further than electric vehicle adoption, light-weighting should be considered. If legislation mandated regulation like Corporate Average Fuel Economy standards for EVs, there will be further reductions in energy demand. Lighter scandium alloys serve to reduce energy demand from transportation, which directly aids to mitigate climate change induced by automobiles.
Another example of light-weighting is for commercial airplanes. The bionic partition structure is a wall partition between crew members and passengers, which also serves as an emergency stretcher and foldable seating for crew members (Airbus, 2016). Current commercial airplane's partition structures are bulky and heavy, weighing approximately 63 kg (Lau, 2016). Airbus and AutoDesk collaborated and successfully produced a 30 kg bionic partition structure using Scalmalloy®, a proprietary aluminum-magnesium-scandium alloy (APWORKS GmbH, 2015; Rhodes, 2015). Replacement of 4 conventional partition structures per A320 plane in commercial aircraft with Scalmalloy® structures could save up to 465,000 tonnes of carbon dioxide emissions per year (Airbus, 2016).
Despite scandium's potential role in meeting future sustainability goals, historically and currently, scandium is under-utilized because of its low supply and high cost due to its nature as a by-product. Prices of scandium oxide ranged from $3,800–5,000 per kg from 2013 to 2020 (Gambogi, 2017, 2020, 2021), placing scandium among the most expensive elements in production. High prices and low supply are due in part to its production as a co-product - production is dependent on the demand of other primary metals it is mined with. For example, when there is an increase in scandium demand and price, supply does not respond instantaneously because producers need to increase production of the primary products. This leads to price volatility. Scandium oxide is produced as a co-product due to its sparse concentration in ore, which makes it uneconomical to mine alone. It has been extracted as a co-product with iron ore, other rare earths, titanium, and zirconium in China; uranium in Kazakhstan and Ukraine; apatite (phosphorus) and uranium in Russia; and nickel in the Philippines (Gambogi, 2021). The global production of scandium oxide was 14–23 tonnes (15–25 tons) per year in 2020 (Gambogi, 2021), which was small in comparison to 220,000 tonnes (240,000 tons) of global rare earths oxide per year (Cordier, 2022) and 68 million tonnes (75 million tons) of aluminum per year (Lee Bray, 2022).
Scandium appears to continue as a co-product in the future, for the most part. Mining companies expect scandium to be a minor co-product from mining other metals such as nickel, cobalt, titanium, niobium, etc. (Clean TeQ Holdings Limited, 2018; NioCorp Superalloy Materials, 2019; Platina Resource Limited, 2021; Wang et al., 2020). There is one exception in New South Wales, Australia by Scandium International Mining Corporation, whose primary product is scandium oxide (Scandium International Mining Corp, 2020). For consumption, SOFCs by Bloom Energy are the main scandium oxide consumer with 74% of total global consumption (CM Group, 2018). A typical Bloom Energy server box of 100 MW contains 13–15 kg of scandium oxide and costs $700,000–800,000 in 2010 (Ecclestone, 2020; Jenkins, 2010). Before subsidies, Bloom Energy servers cost approximately $0.14 per kilowatt-hour of electricity compared to $0.10 per kilowatt-hour of retail power price on the U.S. national grid (Helman, 2020). Although sufficient and reliable supply play an important role in other sectors (e.g., SOFCs, commercial aerospace), price is crucial in adoption in other sectors (e.g., sporting goods, beverage cans). Abstract continues....
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NIOCORP MANAGEMENT ON Jan. 31st, 2023, ~What were they doing in D.C. for 4-Days?~ "Working with White House officials on critical minerals issues. This Administration is working hard to help support environmentally responsible critical minerals projects like NioCorp’s Elk Creek Project in the great State of Nebraska. "~
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MAY 25th 2023 ~NioCorp Demonstrates Higher Niobium Recovery Rates New Processing Approach Demonstrates the Ability to Make More Niobium per Tonne of Ore, Produce a Higher Purity Product, and Potentially Address New Markets with Different Niobium Products

https://www.niocorp.com/niocorp-demonstrates-higher-niobium-recovery-rates/
Potential New Forms of Niobium Products and Potential Markets
NioCorp’s new process approach, which incorporates a chlorination step to improve niobium and titanium separation and purification, also has demonstrated NioCorp’s ability to potentially produce three different niobium products: (1) ferroniobium; (2) niobium chloride; and (3) niobium oxide.NioCorp had previously planned to make ferroniobium, which is used by the steel industry to produce high-strength low-alloy steel alloys. Those alloys are used in the construction, automotive and transport, aerospace and defense, oil and gas, and other industries. Niobium is a $3.3 billion per year global market but is currently served by only three major niobium producers in two countries.Niobium chloride would likely be converted by NioCorp into niobium oxide, but niobium chloride is also used in glass and ceramic manufacturing.Niobium oxide is critical to multiple applications, including niobium-lithium-ion batteries, superalloys, superconducting applications, capacitors, specialized optics, and many others. Its use in niobium-lithium-ion batteries is considered by current niobium producers as one of the fastest growing prospective global niobium markets
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MAY 26th 2023~NioCorp Demonstrates the Ability to Potentially Double Projected Titanium Recovery Rates for the Elk Creek Project

https://www.niocorp.com/niocorp-demonstrates-the-ability-to-potentially-double-projected-titanium-recovery-rates-for-the-elk-creek-project/

Demonstration Plant Shows New Recovery Process May Double NioCorp’s Titanium Production per Tonne of Ore as well as Produce a Higher Purity Product that May Command Higher Market Prices
CENTENNIAL, Colo. (May 26, 2023) – NioCorp Developments Ltd. (“NioCorp” or the “Company”) (NASDAQ:NB) (TSX:NB) is pleased to announce that it has successfully demonstrated an ability to potentially double the recovery of titanium from each tonne of ore the Company expects to mine at its Nebraska-based Elk Creek Critical Minerals Project (the “Project”), once project financing is obtained and the commercial plant is constructed. The new process is expected to produce a purer form of titanium that may command a higher price than is assumed in NioCorp’s June 2022 feasibility study for the Project (the “Feasibility Study”). NioCorp’s demonstration plant in Trois Rivieres, Quebec, has shown that the Company’s new and improved recovery process can likely achieve an 83.7% rate of overall titanium recovery to final product. This compares to a 40.3% titanium recovery rate in NioCorp’s previous process approach. This new result points to a potentially large increase in the amount of titanium that NioCorp can potentially produce at currently planned rates of mining

MAY 29th 2023~NioCorp Launches Phased Approach to Commercial Production of Made-in-America Aluminum-Scandium Master Alloy

https://www.niocorp.com/niocorp-launches-phased-approach-to-commercial-production-of-made-in-america-aluminum-scandium-master-alloy/

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AMES LAB COLLABORATION IN 2019!
NioCorp Partnering with Nanoscale Powders LLC to Explore the Possibility of Establishing the First US-Based Mine-to-Master-Alloy Vertically Integrated Production of the High-Performance MaterialNioCorp’s Potential Commercial Production of Al-Sc Master Alloy Could Launch Prior to the Company’s Planned Production of >100 Tonnes/Year of Scandium Oxide at its Proposed Elk Creek Critical Minerals Project in Nebraska and Would Use Scandium Produced at the Elk Creek Facility as well as From Other SourcesChina Now Dominates the Scandium World, but North America is Now Positioned to Emerge as a “Leading Scandium Producer,” says NioCorp CEO

MAY 29th 2023~ Jim/NIOCORP respond to question on recent Scandium News Release above:What comes to mind right off the bat is:

*A)"How is this Scandium AlSc master Alloy different than what Niocorp produced with IBC & AMES laboratory???"*Response:

"It is a different process that will be utilized. "

*B) Will this be a Patentable approach now moving forward? in conjunction with Nanoscale???*Response:

" Yes and yes. But we do not discuss the details of intellectual property matters except as required by law"

(\****This is very interesting indeed because a few years back Niocorp was not interested in patenting any such materials!)*
*C) IS NIOCORP still engaged with IBC, AMES & OTHER ENTITIES in regards to Scandium Alloy production & uses moving forward? and with the New Niobium & Titanium oxides as well!!!!
*Response:

"We are focusing on our partnership with Nanoscale on the production of AlSc master alloy, but we engaged with a number of parties on various elements of our scandium-aluminum master alloy business development. We are not working with IBC on niobium or titanium product development efforts."

(****SOUNDS LIKE OTHER COLLABORATIONS ARE ONGOING WITH POSSIBLE PRIVATE & GOVERNMENT ENTITIES?? OFF-TAKE AGREEMENTS & SO MUCH MORE! COULD BE IN PLAY AS THE MINE IS BUILT & NEARS PRODUCTION!!!!!!)

"ENGAGED WITH A NUMBER OF VARIOUS PARTIES!!!!"

FORM YOUR OWN OPINIONS & CONCLUSIONS ABOVE!

(Please Scroll down to see earlier Reddit POST ON GREEN HYDROGEN!)

https://preview.redd.it/xgyok547yr4b1.png?width=480&format=png&auto=webp&s=935baf0d83038b08431d58f6692168529e67224d
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https://preview.redd.it/bn09y1c8yr4b1.png?width=383&format=png&auto=webp&s=7f162043be273147b27f20a6f90f286c0c2e9a07
Chico
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2023.06.08 12:23 ForteSP33 [USA] [H] Chrono Trigger (SNES), SNES Games, DS Games, 3DS Games, Switch, Pokemon, Ps1, Horror, jRPGs, Dragon Quest, Playstation Longboxes, XBOX 360 High End Sports, NES, CIB Mike Tyson Punch Out, Graded Games, Factory sealed games, other titles, systems too! [W] Paypal, Zelle, Venmo, Cashapp

PLEASE NOTE ALL PRICING DOES NOT INCLUDE SHIPPING. I WILL CHARGE SHIPPING EXACTLY BASED ON ZIP / LOCATION. Typically shipping for a game will range between $3-5.
NES Games
SNES
GAMECUBE
Nintendo 64
Wii
Switch
Gameboy
GBC
GBA
DS
3DS
Sega Genesis
DREAMCAST (all disc only)
PS1
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PS4
PSP (all CIB)
Xbox 360
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2023.06.08 10:09 WaveOfWire One Hell Of A Vacation - Chapter 89

First Prev Next Royal Road Patreon
u/KieveKRS providing the Trash certification of quality! (with help from u/coldfireknight cuz this one needed it.)
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Nalah affixed the massive shield to her back, the rectangular form large enough for him to fit behind while only needing to crouch slightly. It was mostly ironwood, but the sides and front were metal-plated, so it still weighed a considerable amount. Despite that, the thing’s bulk hardly seemed to be noticed by the blonde-furred female, likely due to the constant construction work she involved herself in. It paired oddly with the long pike she insisted on using, but he couldn’t deny that poking at things while hiding behind a mobile wall sounded like a good idea.
Jax was wearing his new armour, the bulky chest-piece a mirror of his blond-furred pack mate’s. Though he forwent the protection a buckler or likewise would offer, he doubled up on gear. Gauntlets, vambraces, pauldrons, and anything else he could wear to compliment the massive axe he had taken a liking to.
Where Nalah was fitted to look like an apocalypse survivor—her protections limited to her torso, forearms, and shield—the black-furred male resembled a giant, if underfunded, paladin. All he needed now was some religious imagery and a penchant for exalting the qualities of their god. Joseph almost nudged the guy to suggest it for kicks.
On second thought, he decided that Jax absolutely did not need a reason to start yelling about the Human-turned-religious-figure, because there was no way in hell he wouldn’t. There was no telling what he would choose to say, and the Grand Hunter was perfectly happy never knowing.
Having been with the male as long as he had, it would probably involve ‘taming’ females or something else that would leave him groaning for weeks, if not just contemplating another high-dive from the cliff.
Joseph fixed his own equipment, the ‘Wraith armour’ worn over his own thin iron breastplate. He wasn’t thrilled to wear the extra weight, but it beat being mauled by the thing they were heading out to kill. The trips so far had been tolerable, fog and overcast skies keeping the temperature in check, but he didn’t want to go out in this on a hotter day as Summer really kicked back in. He was sweaty enough without baking inside all this crap.
He adjusted the wolf-skull mask, the rest of the hunting party having gotten over the worst of the unease it gave them. Though they’d needed to rotate people out for the sake of fairness, this would be their eighth consecutive scouting. Using the information that Raine and Faye provided, they narrowed down a likely stomping grounds for the creature and were systematically clearing sectors. It might have been discouraging to keep looking after so long, but the occasional marking on trees and the odd moss-wolf corpse tipped them off that they were getting close. There was still another week’s worth of searching left if today wasn’t the day, but somehow he doubted they wouldn’t need that long.
All in all, they numbered six; larger parties were attempted, but their efforts at stealth quickly became pointless between so many trudging through the forest and stopping for breaks. There was a bit of a scare where one of Mi’low’s pack went missing, but the guy had just stopped to relieve himself. Since the discovery was made by someone else knocking him over in the process by mistake, they decided that keeping the number smaller made communication easier. And lowered the amount of grumbling about needing a bath.
Jax, Nalah, two security members, one of the hunters, and him. Sure, grabbing Tel or the Wraiths would have been a bit more useful for cohesion, but they were all busy with things, and he didn’t want to grind everything in the settlement to a halt for nothing if the search turned up empty again. They were more suited to taking out their fellow Lilhun than some monster in the woods, as much as he disliked the thought.
Scarlet was spending a lot of time with Violet and the new Atmo, Faye was spending much of her recovery with the moss-wolves and moss-pup, and Tel was in the process of helping Harrow shore up the few security members that were slated to become snipers. Kaslin was still learning chemistry with Toril, and Raine was helping whoever needed a hand, so that marked off all of his usual accompaniment. He could have taken more of his direct pack, but they all had important things to take care of as well.
Sahari was managing the pack and putting people where people needed to be put, Pan was working with Idee and Heralt to make a line of armour for the whole pack, and Mi’low was...well, Mi’low. He was pretty sure she was unofficially the master of the hunter’s lodge and spent most of her time keeping track of what came in and out of it, while also making sure that everyone got their fair share. It needed to be done with the settlement growing as much as it had, and it kept Mi’low busy enough to stymie the flow of complaints, so he wasn’t about to complain.
They double checked that they had everything that was needed; food, water, arrows, bolts, and some bags to store anything that the snares had caught on the way back. Four ranged and two melee weapons meant that they would be mostly using Jax and Nalah to soak hits if it came down to it, the others peppering it with projectiles. Given that Harrow was insistent on the bear-thing being resistant to anything they could use at a distance, they also carried spare weapons for the ranged users, just in case. Nodding, Joseph gestured to the group finishing up their preparations for the day’s trip.
“A moment, sir?” Scarlet called to him as she approached the gate, the Wraith flanked by Rose and Cobalt. The two Atmo were decked-out in their own armour, which appeared to be almost entirely metal, save for the palm lining the inside for comfort. Each of their six legs were adorned with broad shields, their bases capped off with a flat storage carriage. They looked like someone had a little too much fun testing how much the insects could effortlessly carry and had ended up with sapient hexapedal tanks.
“Only if you explain why those two would look more at home if they had cannons installed on their backs,” he quipped, an expression somewhere between surprised, amused, and plain dumbfounded plastered on his face. The blackish red-furred female smirked for a split-second before resuming her usual servile presentation.
“The young mistress had extended her request for these two to accompany you.”
Joseph tilted his head incredulously. “Violet told you to send them?”
Scarlet nodded, gesturing to the outfitted Atmo. “They have been under her tutelage for some time now, and wish to be of assistance.”
The Grand Hunter snapped his mouth closed when he was about to ask why his daughter would teach them anything that might be useful for fighting a deadly beast. Of course she did; It was one of the first things he did for her. It would have been weirder for her not to pass on what she knew after all the hours she spent either seeing him coach the others, or being coached herself. With the time she had under her belt, she was the local Atmo Close Quarters Combat specialist, and no one else understood how the modified boxing she learned worked with their bodies like she did.
He wore a hesitant expression, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Well, they’ve certainly geared up.”
“It is a product our smith is rather proud of,” the Wraith affirmed confidently.
He exhaled slowly. “Seems a bit much.”
She seemed to be expecting the remark, barely pausing to register what he said before responding. “Your kit wishes you safe, yet understands you would not allow her to accompany you. These two wish to be of assistance.”
To punctuate her point, the two nodded in agreement, walking forward and slinging some of the backpacks onto their carriages. It seemed ‘no’ wasn’t something they were going to accept after Violet had said her piece. He sighed, conceding that they wouldn’t slow the party down with everyone carrying so much weight in equipment, regardless of the bags. They took breaks frequently enough to accommodate the Atmo, so that wouldn’t hinder anything either.
“Fine,” he relented with a wave of his hand. “We’ll take them. Not like they’d hurt anyway. But–” He put a warning into his tone. “–they’re not playing the hero and getting themselves killed. This isn’t going to work if they think any of us dying is still a net positive, got it?”
The two Atmo mimed their understanding, Scarlet replying with a victorious smile. Joseph couldn’t help but bemusedly roll his eyes. The female had taken rather well to baby-sitting, and that seems to have extended to humouring the young Queen’s schemes now. It wasn’t an unwelcome addition to their little sojourn. At least they could haul back any larger game without it tacking hours onto the return trip.
He thanked Scarlet for her trouble before dismissing her, confirming with the group that everything was accounted for, and set off before it grew too late. He wasn’t looking to get caught out in the woods during the night. The Lilhuns might be fine, but he was pretty well blind unless the moon felt generous.
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Jax watched the two Atmo quietly follow on the sides of the group, their heavily armoured forms posing no issues with their naturally soundless movements in the forest. In the den, they would make moderate clacks and clicks as their chitinous legs contacted the ground, but the soft dirt and foliage stifled all but the smallest report of their travel. With Scarlet supervising alongside Violet, he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the former Blade had influenced their movement with the goal in mind, though he had never paid much attention to how they walked before to compare.
He had to admit, having them carry the additional equipment was exceedingly useful. He had proposed having the group use the newly acquired platforms on their more arachnid-like abdomen to rest in shifts, but Joseph was quick to insist that the insects were of lesser stamina than even Lilhuns. The phrasing seemed like a comparative insult, but Jax had more than enough experience with the Human to know that he had simply spoken his mind. To him, everyone had sub-par stamina. Training had gone some way to remedy the discrepancy, but the Grand Hunter could still continue for longer than even the most well-conditioned of them.
The black-furred male rolled his shoulders, feeling the heft of his axe shift with the movement. It was an impressive size, the weight well-balanced and its edge sharp. He had once laid it to the ground out of curiosity and confirmed that it was about as tall as Pan from head to haft, though only if she stood to her full height. Regardless of its size, it was still lighter than the armour he chose to don.
Having only really worn leathers or a few sets of ironwood protections, the encumbering prominence of the iron equipment took getting used to. It wasn’t entirely restrictive, but did put a damper on any chances he had of sprinting from danger. That was fine, he supposed, since he was wearing it against a beast he had no experience with. It could very well outrun him regardless, and he would rather have the defences in either case.
Nalah seemed to be doing fine, the large barrier she kept on her back swaying slightly as she walked. She was unhindered by it, her movements barely affected by the bulk, which was reassuring. Joseph, however, seemed to be panting more than usual, the rolling cloud coverage easing as the sun progressively warmed the environment. The fog from earlier meant that it was rather humid, and that seemed to bore no well wishes for the male encased in dark leathers and thick plates. He had even flipped down his hood, the sweat beading on his skin adding a sheen to his visage.
“I liked this better when the sun didn’t exist,” the Human lamented quietly, just loud enough for Jax to hear. The black-furred male chuckled.
“It would be rather dark.”
Joseph glared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “I just don’t rank ‘heavily armoured hike through the woods’ high up on my list of things I want to do regularly.”
“I believe that list would be occupied by your mates, no?” he ribbed playfully, a smirk arising when the Grand Hunter shunted his eyes closed in a grimace.
“I hate you.”
“I can see your smile underneath your displeasure, Joseph,” Jax quipped, nudging the male with his elbow, then giving an apologetic smile when his friend almost fell. Joseph sighed, waving Cobalt over and fetching a water-skin from the luggage that the insect was ferrying without breaking stride—though he needed to be careful not to get stepped on.
The Atmo always amused Jax. Be it their passive demeanour hidden by their towering stature, or his interactions with the den-kit, they never failed to be curious people. Having the two that accompanied Volta with them was an unexpected development, but he couldn’t claim to disapprove. If they had been imparted the methods of combat that Violet had cultivated, then there was little worry of them being harmed by naught but perhaps their current target. At least not until there was a better reference of its strength than the single encounter the first-years had so long ago.
At the time, it had smashed pillars and pierced flesh effortlessly, claws proving to be little more than tempting ministrations of tender touch to the thick hide. Jax only had some of the pack’s recount to base the experience off of, but was content to take their word for it. He was, ashamedly, preoccupied taking care of baser needs when the event transpired, so he was woefully unprepared for the eventual encounter. Still, he was afforded the best the settlement had to offer so that he might serve his duty of protecting the Grand Hunter. Harrow would never forgive him if only he returned.
His thoughts were disturbed by Joseph calling for a rest, Jax’s legs thankful for the break from supporting the unusual weight for so long. The Human dispensed rations and water for the pack, the Atmo waiting until everyone else was supplied before accepting their portion. They rested on their base directly, instead of curling their legs beneath them like Jax had become accustomed. Perhaps the armour impeded such, or they wished to remain mobile in the event such was required. Regardless, they blocked what little breeze there was, forcing the Grand Hunter to walk beyond them to enjoy it in the shade. It was short-lived however, as Rose quickly repositioned to stay between the pack and whatever lay beyond their protections.
It was a futile effort, it seemed, because it repeated again twice before Joseph groaned loudly and threw himself atop the carriage to lay back, his legs dangling at the knee. He seemed perfectly content with the unorthodox arrangement, snorting his amusement along with a muttered comment about a ‘taxi.’
The entertaining sight was marred by a distant yelp, snapping the group to attention. Jax and Joseph traded looks, subtle nods and gestures given to move out while remaining quiet. Ignoring his earlier complaints, the Grand Hunter flicked his hood up and donned the mask, drawing his crossbow and readying a bolt. The hunter of the pack mimicked the preparation, the two security members loosely nocking their arrows while Rose, Cobalt, Jax, and Nalah took point.
They proceeded quietly for far longer than the proximity of the noise would have suggested, but marks and gashes upon the trees implied a moving conflict. Thoughts of it being a lost cause quickly became moot as a closer growl and bark shattered the careful silence they had been maintaining.
Motioning for the pack to stop, Joseph waved Jax forward, Nalah approaching the other side. Using the large shield as additional cover, they peered around a particularly thick tree. Locked in combat were two moss-wolves, both attacking a truly massive grey creature.
Twice the Human’s height, half that in width. Four pillars as legs—the muscular trunks sinewy and defined—supported the disturbing hunched figure, the wide base tapering slightly into a thick and extended torso. A singular eye-stalk replaced the head, the ocular organ atop it pitch black and free of any indication of its focus. Four arms with deadly claws parried and sliced the two yellow beasts as they attempted to drive off the predator, a sickeningly large maw gaping to catch any attempts at a lunge. The mouth of the creature almost occupied the entirety of the available surface area upon its front, the jagged bone tools of manduction undulating with the promise of sustenance.
Joseph pulled them back, cursing under his breath as he tried to fight off the tension. From Nalah’s worried expression, it seemed his caution was rather potent, the other members of the group smelling his reaction as well.
“So, what’s the plan, Jax?” the Human whispered, his grip on the crossbow alternating with his fingers stretching across the trigger lest his fidgeting cause a misfire.
“I thought that, with your record, you would wish to tame it for the settlement,” Jax replied while thinking through a plan of action. He was glad that his friend trusted him, but he wished he had known the true scale of the beast prior. Joseph grit his teeth, turning to glance past the tree again with sarcasm pouring out of his response.
“Can’t quite see Winnie-the-woodchipper there playing great with kids.”
“You say that after adopting an Atmo as kit, Grand Hunter,” he returned, nodding to himself when a plan formed. The Human smiled, the banter easing the tension somewhat. “Rose, Cobalt, you two are the most well defended of us. Circle around and drive the beast this way. You should be capable of such without noise, yes?”
The two insects nodded, emptying their luggage behind a tree so as not to lose any of it before disappearing into the trees. The slight glimmer of their iron armour was the only indication of their position through the dense forest. Jax hoped that the beast was not particularly curious about the dimly pulsing glare, nor finished with its current altercation in time to impede the pair.
Satisfied with their progress, he motioned for the two security members to scale a tree and gain a superior vantage point. Their weapons would be able to maintain a more rapid pace of sustained fire at longer ranges. Joseph and the hunter were instructed to hide behind trees nearby, though the Human would need to remain grounded as his lack of claws made scaling the large flora difficult with his equipment.
Finally, Nalah and he positioned themselves much closer, in order to flank the creature as it fled the Atmo and occupy it long enough for the others to bleed it out, if not outright dispose of it.
With the forms of the Atmo peeking through the brush opposite them, Jax raised his axe to signal the start.
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Joseph felt the hammering in his chest, his heart preparing him to fight for his life against the walking abomination that easily outclassed the only other predator that he had experience with. Sure, the moss-wolves were easy to take down once you had equipment and a plan, but that thing screamed danger.
He watched Jax and Nalah set up behind thick trees, their goal being for Jax to hopefully disable a leg or two with the war-axe while Nalah occupied it with the shield. As the two strongest members of his little family, he trusted both to do their job.
As a clusterfuck of animal and torture device, he had no faith in the creature playing along.
Swallowing his hesitation, he adjusted his grip on the crossbow again, mentally tallying his shots and cursing himself for not researching explosives. Sure, Toril didn’t want to be involved in that kind of weapon, but at the moment, the tailless white-furred male could suck it up and make one anyway. Joseph would give his left nut to see how quickly the chemist would make weapons of mass destruction just to annihilate whatever that thing called home.
Jax raised his axe, glinting the sunlight of it towards the Atmo. Receiving the start signal, the two clicked and loosed a deafening screech, the Human’s ears ringing even from this distance.
The beast seemed unperturbed by the noise, though the lack of visible ears may have had something to do with the lacklustre effect. Regardless, it did notice the two armour-clad insects charging at it, and smartly decided to extradite itself from the area. The moss-wolves, however, didn’t quite get the memo, mistaking the advancing assistance as yet another foe to defend themselves from.
He had to say, Violet taught the two well. They flashed their blades out in the same flicker jab that he had shown his daughter, and with an unceremonious squelch, the two bisected canines landed in four pieces, a vibrant green ichor now staining the weapon-like appendages of the Atmo. Undeterred by their first act of violence—as far as he was aware, anyway—they continued herding the beast.
It wasn’t as fast as they might have feared, its quadrupedal gait hindered by its proportions, but it was still quick enough to be damn intimidating. Its arms acted as a counter balance, constantly adjusting this way and that just to keep it stable. That thing was clearly never meant for sprinting, all its mobility being given to the overactive maw that pulsated with the exertion.
He readied his crossbow, the shaking in his hands not ruining his aim against such a large target. He eyeballed the distance between the creature and the ambush point, forcibly moving his finger off the trigger so that he didn’t fire early.
Closer. Come on. Almost.
Now.
Jax wound up like a particularly enthusiastic lumberjack, putting his full body into the rotation. The massive axe swung like a horizontal pendulum striking home with all the finality of a clock tolling midnight. It bit into the front leg of the beast, only sinking a few inches before momentum nearly wretched the weapon from the black-furred male. Luckily, the force and timing was enough to trip it, the creature crashing to the forest floor with a deafening roar of pain.
They could hurt it. That made him feel better.
His relief evaporated as the beast swiftly recovered, hauling itself from the ground faster than he thought possible, but his archers took it for an unspoken signal. Arrows and bolts peppered its thick hide, to no effect—it shrugged off the projectiles like they were nothing more than pine needles, none sinking far enough to gain notable purchase.
Jax hefted his axe for another strike, careful not to over-commit this time. Nalah prodded the beast wherever she could with her pike, the melee weapon sliced and skewered just past the surface of the hide, though not enough to do more than marr. It was, however, enough to gain the attention of the target, the creature swinging two of its four arms to rake across the shield that the blond-furred female held. The iron plating across the front let out an unearthly shriek as claws ripped and crumpled the metal.
Well, fuck.
Nalah was quick to react, treating the shield less as an immovable barrier and more like a slight distance buffer, dodging in and out of range to steal jabs with the polearm. The security members nocked another volley, picking different targets than before. An arrow bounced harmlessly off the black orb of an eye, another finding purchase in what passed for gums in its mouth.
The hint was received; aim for the mouth. Thankfully, that was a large target. Less thankfully, it realized that flashing its teeth was detrimental to its health, slamming the maw closed.
Jax managed another swing, this time into one of the rear legs. It wasn’t as effective as the first strike, but it did warrant a sweeping double back-fist from the creature, scoring Jax’s armour with shallow claw marks as he jumped backwards. Joseph let out a breath as he fired his second shot, only just narrowly missing the sliver of a gap between razor teeth that the enraged attack afforded. It couldn’t keep its mouth shut forever, each frenzied swipe pulling its form enough for glimpses of softer flesh within to appear. The hunter dropped from their tree, darting across to reposition for a wider angle to capitalize on. The creature noticed, lunging forward to eviscerate the easier target.
Joseph blinked as two armoured figures jumped in front of the Lilhun, raising their blades in a tight guard to block the four arms grabbing for a quick meal. The beast recoiled with a thunderous screech, two of its appendages sporting deep gashes that fountained blood, while the others managed to impact above the edged outside of the blades. Rose and Cobalt pressed forward, buying time and space for the hunter to collect themselves and scale up another perch. Taking advantage of its pain, two new arrows ripped through the air, smacking into exposed inner flesh. Two new protrusions joined the first in the mouth, one landing next to the existing projectile, while the other cleared the gateway of serration, driving deeply inside of it.
More flicker jabs and extended straights pushed and cut the beast as it tried to gain distance from the two that wounded it, every retaliatory strike earning it another gash in its grey hide.. Unencumbered by the constant barrage, Nalah thrust into its legs more vigorously, her body leaning into each attack to gain every inch of penetration she could into the muscle and thick hide.
Jax used the chance to score another chopping blow, doubling down on a previous wound to a back leg—striking bone this time, based on the unholy wail the beast uttered. Joseph raised his crossbow to land another shot into its mouth, but the beast flailed wildly to fend off the ambush.
Rose managed to block, Jax lunged backwards, Nalah deflected most of it with what remained of her shield, but Cobalt was caught by a strike, taking the hit to its torso. The Atmo flew backwards, rolling when it landed, the carriage and assorted armoured plates trailing behind it. Rose shifted instantly, covering the direction that their companion had been sent while Jax and Nalah focused on pulling the beast away from the downed combatant.
Joseph’s eyes flicked to the Atmo, waging an internal battle on whether helping the insect would be better or worse for the situation as a whole. He didn’t want to lighten up their assault if it would just mean more injuries, but Cobalt could be in dire need for a patch job. It was hard to tell from where he was.
Cursing, he bolted from his spot, firing off one last round into the gaping maw before clipping the crossbow onto his armour and sliding on his knees in front of Cobalt, healroot hastily retrieved from his pocket.
He paused, sighing in relief when none of the armour bore more than deep gashes, the carapace underneath unblemished by the attack. Cobalt clicked lightly, dazed, but otherwise seeming unhurt. Unlearned in the physiology relevant, he ushered the Atmo to remain out of the fight for fear of concussion or something similar. They could look at the insect back at the base to be sure later.
“Joseph!”
His head spun around at both Jax and Nalah screaming his name, a massive clawed hand sweeping at him—the monster's approach unnoticed while he focused on Cobalt. Lacking a better option, he lunged forward towards the underside of the beast to dodge the swipe, crashing to his shoulder on the dirt below.
The creature raised a leg above Joseph, pounding the earth scant inches from his head as he rolled sideways. Ignoring the kicked up dirt, he brought his fist to the underside of the beast, flicking the release on his bracer.
Blood spouted from the newly formed wound, the blade breaking at the mechanism as the massive animal lurched in pain, Joseph rolling out of the way of another attempted trampling. He scrambled to his feet, feeling the wind of another strike narrowly missing him.
Yeah, that would probably kill him.
Luckily, the injuries renewed the desire to flee in the monstrosity, the group of attackers proving too dangerous to continue challenging. It stumbled away from them, sparing Cobalt from its panicked trudging. Jax and Nalah started to run towards him, worry evident in their eyes, but he barked for them to finish it, redirecting the two to keep the pressure going. He didn’t want to mention the pain in the arm from where the bracer hitched. It didn’t feel broken, and thus was irrelevant.
Pressure applied, the grey beast picked a random direction free of opponents to escape, ignorant of the waiting security. When it was too close for them to shoot into its mouth at a decent angle, they slung the bows over their shoulders and drew the swords they had been afforded, patiently waiting with the blades turned down.
It passed below them, the two Lilhuns dropping from the branches to put their full weight into the plunging blades. Both landed on the large target, one sword sinking deep into a shoulder, while the other managed to pierce one of its hip joints. The beast spun haphazardly to dislodge the ‘new’ threats, both security members kicking off and finding new trees to set up in.
Whatever damage was actually done, it had lost the use of an arm, and its gait shifted awkwardly as the blade lodged in its hip worked more harm with each shambling step.. Emboldened, Jax picked up the pace, struggling to position himself with the amount of metal he wore. Ducking another swipe of its claws, he saw his chance and swung, pivoting with his axe as a counter weight. For the third time, his axe blade found the wound in its leg, adding a sickening crunch as the bone snapped from the impact.
The creature swung wildly, forced to favour its two remaining good legs, and the only other leg that could still support at least some of its weight. It was unstable now, the hunched figure swaying while unmoving. Unable to run, it decided to go down with as many of them as it could.
Rose caught up with the attack, drawing attention from the comparatively squishy Nalah as the blond-furred female deflected a wayward swing with her shield. The once iron-plated ironwood now sporting little more than jagged scraps of metal atop its silver wooden structure, a series of deep gouges marring the surface. Two lunging thrusts with the pike bit flesh, drawing new blood from the beast.
Joseph loaded his crossbow, getting off two bolts, but not managing to keep it steady enough to hit anything of use, his arm faltering under the weight of the weapon. Cursing, he decided to flank the beast and try his luck with the other bracer. If nothing else, the force in which the blade deployed was enough to pierce the thick hide, and the others were doing a good job of distracting it.
The red armoured Atmo let loose a series of directed swings, the fifth severing an arm in motion, the flying appendage forcing Nalah to raise her shield to block the unorthodox projectile. The female was sent sprawling from the weight of the impact, but the beast was too busy voicing its agony to take advantage of it. Jax worked another two chops into the broad legs, but neither managed to incapacitate it any more, and the prolonged exertion was slowing his reflexes.
As if cued into his waning energy, the beast flung Jax with another strike, the hunter of the group sinking a bolt deep into the cavernous flesh of its mouth to prevent an attempt at following up.
Joseph roared, desperate to finish it off before the creature could do the same to his downed pack. He sprinted at the monster's back and slid underneath it with as much speed as he could muster. Throwing his fist into the passing undercarriage, he let the deployed blade leave a long gash in its wake.
The grey monster lost its ability to stand, torn tendons, blood loss, and inflicted injuries taking their toll. The Grand Hunter kicked off his knees to fling himself out of the way of the collapsing figure, grimacing as the remaining bracer proved unable to support the abuse he had put it through. He looked back at the beast, the flailing body failing to right itself as teeth did little more than gouge dirt, its back exposed. Rose approached, raising their blades together and plunging it through the body over and over until it stopped moving.
Exhausted, the Atmo dropped where it was, breathing heavily. Joseph’s instinct to yell their victory was delayed as he hurried over to Jax and Nalah to confirm he didn't need to bring back bad news. Nalah seemed fine, if a bit sore from hitting the dirt and rolling, while Jax just asked to lay down when he heard that everything was over. Cobalt came over to the group, the armour that had come off collected atop the carriage it had managed to loosely affix to its base.
It was light, a chuckle originating from the Human as he slumped to the ground against a tree, but soon the entire group was roaring with laughter as victory settled in their minds. The two security members helped the hunter begin disassembling the beast, their contribution to the fight leaving them with more energy than the rest. They hadn’t been slacking off, that much was certain. The number of arrows jammed into the maw of the thing would have guaranteed a few extra seconds of survival and chances to escape if one of them had been forcibly tossed into there, and it had caused enough pause for the rest of them to get in a few hits up close.
Joseph rested across from Jax and Nalah, letting his heart rate slow from the rapid pace it had been pinned to since the start of the conflict. His arm continued its protests, but from the amount of movement he still had, he guessed that he had just strained the elbow. A few days taking it easy should straighten that right up.
Once the active members were about half way through processing the creature for hide and meat, Cobalt approached him, a mimed request for assistance putting their armour back on being redirected to Nalah since he doubted he could lift the damn pieces without hurting himself at the moment. She obliged, getting the blue Atmo back in full attire, though it took a while.
Rose stood first, stopping over to allow the hunter to place collected bits and pieces onto the carriage before securing it with whatever they could make due. A security member gathered the moss-wolf corpses for a similar treatment. Waste not, want not, he supposed.
Rose ended up carrying most of their spoils. When he was about to ask why, he, Jax, and Nalah were dragged to Cobalt and hefted onto the carriage. A series of confused questions revealed that the rest wanted to head back before it started getting dark, and it was pretty obvious who was the most exhausted of them. Lacking the will or energy to argue it, he flopped back on the Atmo as the trees passed them by, Nalah resting her legs across him as her head sat on Jax’s lap. The black-furred male didn’t so much as smirk, so it was clear he had pushed himself too far to quip about the arrangement as he laid down.
“The next time you wish to exhaust me this much, Joseph,” the Head of Security started after a long while of silence, tiredness in his voice, “I would prefer it to involve my mate and a bed.”
The Human snorted, closing his eyes and enjoying the lack of walking as the surprisingly stable Atmo carried the three of them. “Fuck off, Jax.”
“Of course, Grand Hunter.”
Next
A/N: Patreon is fixed!... aka new one cuz problems with the last. Check it out to support the story, get AI character art every now and then, or even preview sections of chapters as i write them! (aka, before kieve gets to fix them :D)
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2023.06.08 06:53 hideouszondarg Hubris, Boston, and Everything After

Race Information

Goals

Goal Description Completed?
A Under 2:42 (PR) Yes
B Under 2:45 Yes
C Finish strong Yes
This is a bit late for a Boston recap and very long for a casual read (consider yourself warned). It’s kind-of about the race, but it’s also just a bunch of semi-connected thoughts and feelings about training, injury, results, and what comes next that have been floating around for me over the last couple months.

Prologue

I started running during the pandemic, transitioning away from my long-time sport of Ultimate Frisbee to try to run a sub-5 mile (report here). I did it, and it was good. And I had caught the running bug. Ready to extend my distances, I declared to my coach that my next goal (after a short hiatus to play one more season of frisbee) was to qualify for Boston. Boston was, in fact, the only marathon I had ever spectated: I remember sitting at Coolidge Corner in 2009, watching runners speed by. I was young and springy then, and had no desire to run farther than 3 miles continuously. But now it was 2021, and time had run out on my fast-twitch abilities: it was time to go long. I wanted to run Boston, which meant I had to run something else - and hopefully just one “something else” - first.
We decided to target Eugene for 2022, to qualify for Boston in 2023. I began building up my base in the fall, testing my weekly mileage limits. I remember a “long run” of 70 minutes the first Sunday after I returned to regular running. I nearly gave up and walked 60 minutes in. But the next Sunday I did 80 minutes, and it was better. By the end of the fall, I was comfortably hitting 50 mpw and 2 hour runs. By the time Eugene came around, I had sixteen weeks of generally healthy training and six 20+ mile runs in my legs. felt ready, and I was: I ran a 2:42. I was a freshly minted 36 at the time, so with the BQ time for my age group and gender at 3:05, I was firmly in the clear.
I'll pause here to say that although I am far from an elite runner, I am also keenly aware that many people work their asses off for years to qualify for Boston, and that some never do. I worked hard, too, and my history of sports can’t have hurt, but at the end of the day I know I have some (unearned) talent for running that made my path to Hopkinton easier than it is for many. I will leave it here in saying that I have immense respect for everyone who laces up and puts in the work, regardless of their pace and outcome.

The Build

After Eugene, I had turned my attention away from the roads for about six months. I put the bank of fitness I had developed to work on trails and on mountains. I got to cover (and bonk on) a few of the many thrilling backcountry objectives in British Columbia, and even ran a 50k in Washington. (It went about as well as most people’s first 50k, which is to say that I ran out of food, water, fully supermanned down a trail, cramped every muscle in my lower body, and shuffled it in. Huge success.) But when December came around, it was time to get back to the roads.
Working with the same coach, my road fitness came back surprisingly quickly. I was hitting high-water marks for volume, pushing my average up to the high 60s/low 70s. I felt, well, not good, but I did feel fast. I remember hammering out a 30 minute tempo on the track at 5:41/mi, a workout I never would have been capable of during the Eugene build. I was tired after, but confident and elated. I got compliments from the youngsters rolling 600 repeats around the track, and their coach. I felt like I was on track for a new PR, and not just a PR but a crushingly fast time, maybe somewhere in the mid 2:30s. But somewhere, offscreen, ominous music played. I had my wings on, and I was headed towards the sun.
The sun took the form of a work trip to Bozeman. I flew over Thursday, found a gym to do a tough 60 minute “mountain fitness” workout that evening, ran for an hour Friday morning in the snow, and skate skied 2.5 hours hard on Saturday. Sunday morning, I took on a treadmill workout that was something like 7x(7 min @ 5:41/mi, 2 min off). After two intervals, I knew I didn’t have it. I stepped off the treadmill. I’ve failed workouts in the past, and I’ve been able to move on, but for some reason this one stuck. It stuck, as they say in the South in my craw. Annoyed, I went back to my hotel room and tried to regroup. With my muscles already starting to tighten up with the effort, I resolved to partially salvage the day with an easy run around town. But it didn’t feel like I had salvaged anything. So, after an 8-hour, two hopper flight home, I made another attempt to soothe my bruised ego. With night falling, I hit the pavement, starting out easy but picking up speed. Tired, tight, and without any food or water, I hammered away, deep in the no-man’s land of Zone 3. I had heard the warnings. I paid no heed. I was invincible, and I was going to reclaim the fitness I had missed out on that morning. I ran the distance of a half marathon and got home after dark, and you know what? It felt good, at the time. It felt

The Injury

The next morning, I woke up in a pile of melted wings. My left leg couldn’t take any weight without shooting pain and was tender to the touch around my mid-shin. I felt the dubious benefit of immediate and regretful clarity on what had gone wrong. My ego had let me believe that I could or should try nail a workout on a foreign treadmill at altitude (Bozeman!) after an exhausting couple of days. Failing that, it had convinced me that I should make up the workout with a long, unfueled run. Ego is a hell of drug.
It took several days for me to accept that I was injured. Looking back on my training log, it seems insane, but I ran the next few days on my program, including a track workout. My leg would throb and ache, but I would get through it, only to wake up in more pain that would abate just enough for me to try it out again that afternoon. Eventually, I fessed up to my coach and she immediately sent me to a PT and had me stop running for a week. I thought this was excessive at the time, but in retrospect I think it might have saved the build. The PT I saw said I had a stress reaction, probably brought on by a combination of weak glutes (it’s always the glutes) changing my push off and some good old-fashioned overdoing it.
For the next month, I cross trained with uphill biking, skate skiing, and water jogging. We re-introduced running gradually, starting with once every three days, then every other day, then two out of three days. The shin seemed to get better slowly, and we gradually reached a kind of homeostasis: I knew how far I could push it, and as long as I didn’t overdo it, it seemed to recover slightly faster every time. But the injury had come at a bad time, and missing most of February meant that I couldn’t race the local half marathon I had planned on or a local trail race (though I still participated in them as long runs).
By mid-March, I was feeling mostly better. In addition to Boston, I had also signed up for Chuckanut 50k, a trail ultra renowned for its smooth runnable trails and its timing: it often drew some of the elites of US trail running as an early season opener. I didn’t feel quite ready to hammer the downhills, but if anything, limiting myself kept my quads intact almost through the end of the race. I didn’t tear the roof off, but I ran most of the way and felt pretty good doing it. When I woke up the next day with the usual soreness, but no acute pain in my shin, I knew I was going to finish the build and run an honest race at Boston.
The only problem was that a week’s recovery brought me to March 24: only about three weeks before Boston. With a weeklong taper, shorter than usual by necessity, we really only had two weeks to get into Boston shape. My coach put on a masterclass in programming: she designed workouts that required exactly as much as I could give at the time, while preparing me for the unique qualities of the Boston experience and course. One in particular stands out: 4x(15 min MP effort, 8 min T effort, 4 min jog), but on a route that included a 300-foot hill, which I ended up going up and down 3 times. The key was to maintain effort going uphill, but to not go any faster than 6:10/mile downhill. That and another long run gave me two 20+ milers in the books. That was it.
Going into Boston, I knew I didn’t have the sharpness I had even three months ago. I had started the cycle hoping to PR, maybe by a lot, but before the marathon I set more conservative goals: my C goal was to get to 20 miles (where my mom would be) feeling strong; my B goal was to get under 2:45. My A goal was to PR. I wasn’t feeling brave: I wanted to minimize the possibility of blowing up, while still giving myself a fighting chance at a one-second PR if I was having a really good day.

The Marathon

There’s not much to say about Boston (the marathon) that readers here haven’t read before. The logistics are impeccable, but overwhelming for a first-timer, the fanfare and the fans are legendary, and the course is the running world’s version of the Strait of Messina: athletes must navigate Scylla’s ego-tempting downhills and Charybdis’ ill-timed uphills to survive. While it is literally impossible to make it to the Boston marathon start line without having at least one hundred people tell you to not hammer the downhill at the start, people still do it every single year.
In a way, I was lucky have reckoned with (and lost to) my ego early in the build. I came to Boston healthy but wary of too much self-belief. We set a target and hard limit on the pace I would set through the first 15k: 6:15s would be ideal, but at most 6:10s: I wouldn’t run faster than I had down my training hill. At the start line, a small inspiration struck. Boston sets bib numbers by qualifying time, and my 2:42 at Eugene gave me something in the 1100s. Within my corral, I found the people around my number and then walked about 30 meters back, placing myself closer to folks wearing 1500s. I reasoned that if most people overcooked the start, then I wanted to be with the folks overcooking it at a pace I could be comfortable with.
Once the race started, it was virtually impossible, for the first couple miles or so, to shift my pace much above or below what the people around me wanted to run. If thought at first that I had let myself sit too far back: I ran a 6:35 first mile down the two-lane streets of Hopkinton. But as the crowds thinned a bit, I found a rhythm, and clicked off my first 5k at around 19:14, around a 6:12/mile pace. The next 5k, still downhill but slightly less, was a 19:12. The third was 19:13. Rolling through the small towns that make up the western side of the Boston metro area, I didn’t feel good, exactly, but I also didn’t feel bad. I wasn’t sure what kind of day I was having. That’s the odd thing about the marathon, so far as I can tell: you might know you’re having a bad day early on, but deciding that you’re having a good day is inviting disaster.
A quick aside: it can’t be overstated how impressive the Boston crowds are. There was no point on the course that I can remember where we were without support for more than 25 meters. Wellesley and Boston University are extreme even in that context, though: you actually feel the roar at those points in the course before you hear or see it. Bless you, you drunk and joyful undergraduates.
By 25k, we were through half and quickly approaching the Newton Hills. After a long downhill, we turned at the fire station and started to charge up. I shortened my stride and began to pump my arms, lifting my effort from a 6 to a 7 but no higher. I didn’t look at my watch until the end of the first hill, so you can imagine my shock when I saw that the last mile had been a 6:06. I cruised the lengthy downhill after the first hill (nobody really tells you about those) and regained my composure. The second hill was punchier, and brought me down to a 6:10, but I still felt good, and was starting to pass quite a few people. The third hill was mostly forgettable, which left only Heartbreak. While not objectively a big hill, it’s big enough for that point in a marathon, and you definitely see it coming. I was determined to hold my early race pace through it, though, and pushed the effort up again. I was breathing hard, but I got to the top still holding a 6:11 pace.
Even at the top of Heartbreak, I wasn’t fully ready to believe that this was going to be a really good day. I’m told that much better runners have lost entire races in the so-called “haunted” mile following Heartbreak, and I wasn’t sure what my quads had left in the tank. But while it still didn’t feel good, I kept pouring in gas and they kept responding. The last few miles of the race are a bit of a blur: I remember pushing the pace down to 6:06, then 6:00, then even below 6:00 for a mile or so. There are a couple very short and punchy climbs just before the last turns that took something out of me, but by the time I turned left on Boylston I knew I had more than the balance left over. I started sprinting at the turn, only to realize that the 600 meter long stretch was a bit more than I had bargained for. Still, I closed respectably: I ran last mile was a 5:41, exactly what I had worked on maintaining in that early tempo workout.
I finished in 2:40:XX and negative split by about 2 minutes. It poured like crazy 15 minutes after, while I huddled under a restaurant awning. I watched other runners come in. Some, like me, had the elation of a good day to soothe their tired muscles and joints. Some had no such balm, and were left to untangle the end of a long, challenging cycle from a disappointing final result. I was reminded, too, that it’s all relative: as I sat under the awning, I heard a runner near me lament his 2:35, while another came in over the moon with his 3:15. Kipchoge had a bad day, and he finished more than half an hour before I did. We are comparison machines, and expectations versus reality is the oldest routine we know.

Epilogue

The marathon is a harsh race, and I feel genuinely lucky to have had good experiences on my attempts so far. Two months on though, my body still feels beat up: I’m struggling to recover, my knees ache, and my workouts seem to be going the wrong direction. I don’t think I gave my recovery the respect it deserved, so I am once again tangling with my own hubris.
Assuming I can rest enough to properly recover, I also find myself in the position of figuring out what’s next. Boston was a big goal for me, and I didn’t set any real running objectives after it. All I have on my schedule this summer is a couple of local trail and road races. I thought Boston would be my last marathon before I moved entirely to the more forgiving pastures of trail running, but I’m also tempted to see how far I can push the needle on my road running before age claws my aerobic fitness back from me. I’m 37 now, and well aware that at some point the PRs will no longer be on the table, but I think that day is still a few years off. If you were me, what would you aim for next?
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2023.06.08 05:51 Determination7 An Outcast In Another World (Subtitle: Is 'Insanity' A Racial Trait?) [Fantasy, LitRPG] - Chapter 200 (Book 5 Chapter 26)

Quick Author's Note:
For better clarity of intent, the 'worthwhile opponent' stipulation in Lifedrinker is being changed to 'non-negligible opponent' moving forward.
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"The Gellin Empress was the catalyst for our breakthrough," a mage explained. "Tracing Lord Rob's lingering mana signature through the space between dimensions proved effective at first, yet it came with an insurmountable problem: he only attained mana after initially leaving Earth. At a certain point, there was no more of a signature for us to trace. We had found his home dimension, but finding his home world within the infinite expanses of that dimension could have taken years of aimless searching, like blind men stumbling in the dark."
He leaned forward, clearly enjoying having a captive audience. "The key, then, lay within Lord Rob's memories. Even without mana, memories have a power all their own. The Empress looked within his mind and found locations of personal importance to him. Ones that he remembers with pristine clarity. By scrying for areas within Lord Rob's dimension that matched those specific locations, we were able to narrow down the scope of our search considerably."
The mage spread his palms wide, and his voice dropped a full octave, as if he was imparting a great revelation. "The result will soon be made self-evident. You shall bear witness to the foremost magical achievement of our era: a one-way viewing window into Lord Rob's world. The first of many to come."
In respect for the man's showmanship, Rob started up a clap. Granted, he would've clapped even if the explanation was done via a mindnumbing PowerPoint presentation, because nothing in the universe could stunt his enthusiasm right now. Riardin's Ranger, the Elders, Diplomacy, and the Soul Surgeon clapped as well, although Rob was pretty sure they were just following his cues. This moment couldn't possibly hold the same gravitas for them as it did for him. They mostly were here to provide moral support and satisfy their curiosity.
While for him, this meant everything.
"Do we need the Gellin Empress here to create the window?" Rob asked. "I'd also like to thank her for the help she's given."
The mage shook his head. "I'll spare you the details, but to be succinct; she taught us how to save a mana-based copy of the necessary memories, which will allow us to attune to a subset of Earth locations. Her presence is not required. In fact, she insisted that we proceed without her, as the Gellin have gone to rest for the night."
Must be nice. I'd trade ten Levels for a consistent sleep schedule. Rob internally frowned at himself, punting the envious thoughts away. No sour grapes. If the Empress helped me see Earth again, then I hope she sleeps like a baby for the rest of her life.
"One question," Keira interjected. "In your explanation, you stated that, without the Empress' assistance, it may have taken years to discover Earth. That is hardly the weeks or months you claimed in the past."
The group of dimension mages froze, embarrassment blooming on their features. They looked to the head mage for guidance, whose veneer of showmanship was deflating like a leaky balloon. "We were perhaps...optimistic."
"By years?"
"The previous estimate I put forth was one that assumed we would develop breakthroughs as we went along." His mouth widened into a sheepish grin. "As you can see, we, um, succeeded."
Keira raised an eyebrow. "Only with the timely assistance of a Leader." Her tone was calm, yet unyielding. "Rob is too grateful to point out this contradiction, so I suppose the task falls to me. You have also told us that you should be able to 'open' the window and let Rob send a letter home within the next week – is that more unfounded optimism?"
"No." The mage straightened his posture. "Now that we have located Earth, the rest is simply a matter of refining our spells and collecting reserves of mana. We are no longer blind, nor are we fumbling in the dark, and thus our progress moving forward shall be predictable and steady. This, I swear."
After a few seconds, Keira nodded. "Then I thank you for the wonderful boon you've granted to the man I love."
From behind, Malika giggled under her breath. Rob squeezed Keira's hand, gave her a warm smile, and faced the mages. "I'm ready whenever you are."
The tent thrummed with mana as the dimension mages formed a Mage Circle with Malika. It was no different from any other time they'd done so, yet the knowledge of what they were about to accomplish heightened the tension in the air to a fever pitch. Rob's pulse quickened, his throat tightening. He'd been disemboweled by monsters, decapitated by eldritch abominations, and none of those events made him a fraction as nervous as watching the dimension mages at work.
Minutes passed. Rob forced himself to be patient. Reaching across the boundaries of space and dimensions wasn't like heading to the store to pick up a carton of milk. It involved a level of spellcasting prowess that would take Rob decades of committed study to have even the slightest chance at grasping. Frankly, the fact that it was possible at all still beggared belief.
Maybe...maybe the mages were wrong. Not lying; just wrong. They could be overeager, sharing before they were actually ready, and they'd end the circle looking contrite and ashamed.
That was okay. No biggie. Rome wasn't built in a day, or...something. He could wait–
Creak.
It was the sound of a rusted hinge, of crumpling paper, of breaking bones, and more. A combination of all the noises things made when subjected to an external force. Like reality itself was groaning under the pressure.
Creeeak.
A thin, imperceptible line appeared at eye-level, dark as the endless void. Slowly, inch-by-inch, it widened.
CREEEAK.
It had become a rectangle. Two feet wide, three feet high. With a final CREAK, reality threw in the towel. The void dissipated, as if smoke blown away by a gust of wind, revealing...
Home.
Everything was as he remembered it. The same furniture with scuffed marks of wear-and-tear. The same living room where they'd watched movies each Friday. The same kitchen with a sink perpetually filled with dirty dishes. The same tacky wallpaper that his mom refused to change, and that he secretly enjoyed.
Identical. Like a portrait had been painted straight from his memories.
A tsunami of aching nostalgia surged through him. Rob didn't realize he was extending his hand until his fingertips were already brushing against the viewing window. Its surface felt solid, and for an instant he was terrified that this really was just a painting. Something invented to give him false hope.
Then he noticed that a window had been cracked open. Not the mages' window; the window inside his house. A small breeze blew inside, jostling a curtain ever so lightly. Just enough to make it move.
"It's real." Rob's voice was hoarse. "It's my home."
No one said anything. They allowed him his silence, a gesture which he greatly appreciated. Eventually, Rob took a deep breath, clenched his hands so that they wouldn't tremble, and looked at the dimension mages. "Thank you. I owe you...so much. Even if observing from afar ended up being the limit of what you could do, just seeing my house again like this is..."
He trailed off, unable to find words that were sufficient. Thankfully, the dimension mages seemed to understand. "You are most welcome, Lord Rob." The head mage smiled. "This is far from the limit of what we can do, however. Give us time, and this window shall open."
Rob nodded, choosing not to believe them. They were probably right, but on the off chance they weren't, he didn't want to look back on this moment with bitterness. Best to assume the worst and be grateful for what he already had.
As if drawn by a gravitational pull, his eyes drifted back towards the window. It was displaying a fixed point in the center of his home. "Can you switch perspectives? I want to check other rooms." His parents were likely asleep in their bedroom at this hour. Assuming they didn't sell the house out of grief and move, that is.
"I am afraid that isn't possible. We can transpose the viewing window to other specific locations that the Empress provided, but having it 'walk around', so to speak, requires finer control than we are yet capable of."
Yet, he says. Which means that with practice, they'll be able to. Rob placated himself with that notion. This was a minor setback, and he wouldn't let it get him down.
He especially wouldn't listen to that tiny voice in the back of his head, whispering that the reason he couldn't see his parents right now was because they were–
"Got it," Rob stated, in a wooden voice. "What other locations did the Empress pick out?"
The window's perspective blurred and shifted. Rob swallowed a gasp as an extremely familiar place was displayed before him. He'd seen it many, many times, even after coming to Elatra. It used to be at the top of his nightmare rotation, only ousted from its throne when Blights started coming into play.
In front of them was a small grassy lawn, surrounded by lecture halls in the near-distance. The place that had forever altered the course of his life.
"This is where it all started." Rob pointed to an empty spot in the middle of the field. "Portal opened up. Right there. Saturated with darkness. Chains shot out, tried to grab at Jason. I pushed him out of the way, and...the rest is history."
Silence reigned once more. After a few seconds, Orn'tol stirred. The young Ranger opened his mouth, preparing to say what would undoubtedly be some platitude reassuring Rob over his noble sacrifice.
"The grass truly is green."
Rob burst out laughing. He kept going until he was short of breath, wheezing as the others looked at him with eyes full of concern. "I'm okay," he managed to cough, once the laughter had died down to snickers. "Thanks, Orn'tol. I needed that."
"You're very welcome?" Orn'tol exchanged confused glances with the rest of Riardin's Rangers. "I am unsure of what I did to assist you, yet it's good to see you in high spirits nonetheless."
"Sometimes a little silliness is just what the doctor ordered." Rob offered him a high-five, which the boy accepted with zeal. They returned their gazes to the viewing window, Rob tilting his head as he peered closer. "Hmm. That's weird."
"What do you mean?"
"There's no people. It's early evening, but college students have the worst sleeping patterns on the face of the planet. Trust me; I'm speaking from experience. Usually you'd see a dozen partygoers strung out on energy drinks racing around now."
"Perhaps this location is known as a place of danger," Keira posited. "I would certainly be hesitant to tread where a portal of darkness sprang from the aether and kidnapped a civilian."
Rob watched the viewing window for signs of life, finding none. "Could be. Parents probably pulled their kids out after what happened to me. Then either the government condemns the area, or enough money is lost that the college goes bankrupt." He snorted. "Would be the least of what it deserves, considering the tuition fees. Bloodsucking vampires."
"People on Earth drink blood?"
Normally, Rob would have played along with their confusion, but there were more important things to focus on. "Can you change this to the next location from my memories?" he asked the dimension mages. "How many are there, anyway?"
"Five in total. One moment, please."
The window's perspective blurred, shifted, and reformed. Now it was displaying a city sidewalk, its view positioned right outside the best god damn burger joint in existence. Rob didn't care what anyone else said; two greasy slabs of beef squeezed between two sesame-seed buns was the absolute pinnacle of culinary delight. So what if his palette was 'like a five-year old's?' Wasn't his fault that delicious things were delicious.
Belatedly, he realized that his memory of this restaurant had been strong enough for the Gellin Empress to choose it as a point of reference for interdimensional portal magic. That...yeah, that tracked. Aside from the burgers, he had fond memories of sitting at the outside patio with Jason and his folks, drinking Minty Fresh Phantasma and inhaling cheesy fries as they mocked his dietary preferences. Good times.
He was about to explain what this place meant to him when a human casually walked past the viewing window.
She was a normal working woman like any other. Tired eyes, a purse slung over her shoulder, and dressed for lukewarm weather. A cell phone was held in her right hand, her eyes glued to some form of social media. She strode past the window without a care in the world, visible for merely a second before disappearing from view.
To the Elatrans, it was like a horror movie jumpscare. All of them froze. Several gasped. Elder Alessia grimaced. Faelynn muttered "a world of Humans" in a hushed tone. The only exceptions were Elder Duran and the Soul Surgeon, who crept closer to get a better look, their eyes shimmering with curiosity.
In contrast, Rob let out a sigh of overwhelming relief. That bored, everyday woman was exactly what he'd needed to set him at ease. Earth hasn't completely gone to shit behind my back. People are still living their lives.
As he watched, a few more humans walked in front of the window. A middle-aged man, a young boy with his mother, and an old woman with a walking cane. The old woman pivoted straight into the burger joint, Rob internally praising her good taste.
"W-well," the head mage stuttered. He paused, cleared his throat, then started anew. "As you can see, the viewing window is imperceptible to those with low Levels of Sense Mana. Naturally, this will not be the case for a portal that can be interacted with from both sides."
"Dangerous," Meyneth commented. "I would advise that you conceal this type of spell for as long as you are able. The viewing window especially."
"Why is that?"
"If this window cannot be sensed by those with low Levels of Sense Mana, then that makes it an ideal tool for spying on non-Mages. In your haste to glimpse into the world of another dimension, you have inadvertently developed a field of magic that puts every nation in Elatra at risk of subterfuge. People have been assassinated for much less."
The mages blanched. "We are nothing more than simple researchers," the head mage protested, in a faltering voice. "Who besides a madwoman like the Dragon Queen would stoop so low as to threaten noncombatants?"
Keira averted her eyes, pointedly examining the floor.
"We can discuss matters of life and death at a later time," Duran interjected. He gestured to the viewing window with the demeanor of a child in a toy story. "There's a world of discoveries to explore! Take a look at those structures the Earth Humans have built – they resemble the buildings within Human territory, yet small differences set them apart."
Duran ooooh'd as another person walked past the viewing window. "So many humans are ambling about despite the late hour. Is this area a well-traveled location in your home city, Rob?"
"This is around the level of street traffic you should expect for early evening. If it were daytime, you'd see a hundred people per minute."
Duran aaaah'd. Before he could launch into a series of questions, Zamira beat him to it. "Pardon me if this comes across as an insult," she began, hesitantly. "But Earth Humans appear marginally...uncoordinated. It is hard for me to describe the notion, yet when I watch them move, they appear as if they're liable to fall over at any moment."
They look normal to me, Rob almost said, before remembering that Earth's normal wasn't Elatra's normal. "That's called being permanently Level 1." He shrugged. "They've all got crap stats. Except athletes, I guess."
Zamira stared at the human passerby with obvious sympathy. "My condolences."
Does Earth seem like a world of cripples to her? Rob wondered. Even Utility Class users have the option to put a couple points into Dexterity and Perception. That's not counting the natural stat boosts they gain as they grow up, either. And when combined with Vitality and healing magic, it means that people in Elatra tend to age gracefully.
Rob tried to think of the last time he'd seen an Elatran with the same frailty as that old human woman with her walking cane. The oldest person he'd met so far was the Fiend High Soulseer, and in spite of being positively ancient – and blind – the dude could get around fine. Elder Duran was having health problems, but that was only after suffering from severe Corruption poisoning for weeks on end. An incident like that would've landed an Earth human in long-term hospice care.
Actually, no, that was wrong. It would've just killed them.
"We should switch to the next location," Rob said, preempting any further questions. "There's still two more left." Maybe I can see...no. Keep your expectations in check.
He was right to do so. Rob's heart sank as the viewing window solidified once again, revealing battered, empty streets. Half the buildings had collapsed to rubble, as if visited by a wrecking crew with an axe to grind. He recognized this spot as the street leading up to his favorite movie theater on the other side of the city. There'd been good times here, as well.
Although not anymore. The theater's roof had caved in, and half the letters in its ostentatious PRIME CINEMA logo were missing. It would take years to rebuild – assuming someone was willing to invest millions of dollars into what was essentially a ghost town.
"This..." He ran his hand down his face, aware of everyone gazing at him with pity. "As you can probably infer, this isn't normal. In the past–"
Bang.
Rob practically jumped out of his skin at the abrupt sound of gunfire. At first he thought the shot had come from outside, but no, it was both too distant and too close for that. The noise also sounded different from the rifles that the Dwarven Thunder Rod wielders employed.
A series of repeated bangs swept his thoughts away. Everyone watched in astonishment as a crew of Earth military soldiers ran into view from a side street, desperately fleeing the eight-legged Blightspawn that was hot on their tails. The abomination was more of an amalgamation of flesh and limbs than anything resembling a living creature, and the way it skittered made Rob reconsider if spiders were really that bad in comparison.
"Keep firing!" one of the men commanded, his voice sounding like it was coming from the bottom of a lake. The soldiers blasted their assault rifles in a retreating offensive, peppering the abomination with a hailstorm of bullets. Their response was swift, their aim was true, and it did not matter. The Blightspawn bulldozed through the rain of bullets as if it was a light drizzle, the creature's five cavernous mouths wailing for blood and sustenance.
It was nearly upon them when an explosive rocketed in from the opposite side street, knocking the Blightspawn off its many feet. The reprieve was temporary, but it was just long enough for the soldiers to escape unharmed. Unfortunately, the creature was also mostly unharmed, sporting minor injuries despite a direct missile strike to the torso. With a chorus of screams that prickled Rob's ears, the abomination continued its chase, batting away a second missile as it resumed the chase with renewed fervor.
Then it was gone, having left the window's range of sight. Distant sounds of battle grew quieter, the gunshots and explosions becoming more faint as predator and prey ran deeper into the ruined city.
Rob closed his eyes. He said nothing for half a minute, allowing himself time to process what he'd seen.
"Okay." He opened his eyes, nodding. "This is fine."
Keira laid a hand on his shoulder, struggling with what to say. "Rob...you don't need to–"
"Hold it in? Bottle up my emotions?" A wry chuckle escaped his throat. "Honestly, I'm not as affected as I thought I'd be. The Blight dropped one too many cryptic hints for me to be surprised, anyway. At this point I'm just glad that Earth hasn't been completely overrun. Some parts of the city might be fucked up, but not all of it is."
He narrowed his eyes. "The biggest thing I'm worried about is the Blightspawn itself. You saw those weapons the humans were using, right? Think of them as substantially upgraded versions of the Thunder Rods. They should've put a real dent in a fully-grown Blight, let alone one of its spawn."
"Perhaps the creatures have gained a defensive Skill?" Duran theorized. "What we witnessed appears consistent with other damage reduction Skills such as Tough Skin or Heat Resistance. I would surmise that the Blight has learned something akin to – for example – Thunder Rod Resistance."
Rob paused. Elatra didn't have a specified 'Bullet Resistance' Skill, but that was because conventional firearms had been removed from the system for balancing purposes. The Blight wouldn't give two shits about balance. They'd cheerfully grant themselves Bullet Resistance, Missile Resistance, and whatever else tickled their fancy.
And the more Earth fought back, the more resistant they'd become.
"...This doesn't change anything," Rob eventually concluded. "Earth is a big boy planet. It'll figure something out. In the meantime, we'll clean up our problems here and be ready to help if the Blight's still around by then."
"You're sure?" Keira asked. Two words that held so much intent. 'Are you sure you'll be alright? Are you sure Elatra should remain your primary concern? Are you sure you don't want to head home the instant the dimension mages create a working portal?'
Rob gave her a thumbs-up. "I'm sure. And I know you'll worry about me regardless, but I promise I'm feeling fine."
Or maybe he was just numb, and an avalanche of emotions would bury him when he least expected it. The good news was that was a problem for future-Rob to deal with. Present-Rob had one last area to investigate.
I'd be satisfied with seeing my old bedroom intact, he thought, as the dimension mages altered the viewing window for the last time. I have strong memories there, right? It should be a candidate. Those late night Netflix binges were uh...riveting. Yeah.
The window finalized.
Rob felt the strength leave his body.
Some parts of what he was seeing were incongruous. Strange details that he'd need to figure out soon. All of it took a hard backseat to the one sight in the room that truly mattered.
Jason was alive.
He was at his house that Rob had visited so often. Alive. Surrounded by people. Alive. Chatting away. Alive. Gesturing in that exaggerated manner he often used. Alive.
Smiling.
Alive.
A dam broke. Silent tears began streaming down Rob's face. Thoughts cut out, leaving only the realization that his best friend since childhood, the sole person he'd have trusted with his life before meeting Riardin's Rangers, the man whose place he'd taken when the gods picked a new chew toy...
Was alive.
"Hey, man." Rob's smile was the most genuine it had been in a long time. "Been a while."
At that moment, almost as if he could hear him, Jason grinned.
​
--
​
Author's Note:
When I was writing Chapter 199, I was mildly annoyed that Rob didn't reach 200 Vitality on Chapter 200. That would've been hilariously coincidental. But if I had to choose between that chapter or this one for a big milestone...I think I like this better.
Happy Chapter 200, everyone. Thanks for reading and staying on this journey with me.
submitted by Determination7 to HFY [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 05:33 KillerOrangeCat Three New Terrifying True Scary Tales 6/7/2023

Three New Terrifying True Scary Tales
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Number One: The Pool
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Now, this happened a very long time ago. I am not going to mention when or where though and I am submitting it anonymously. I don’t want people going back and finding out more about it and then lashing out of me.
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I was 13 years old and my brother was 11. As I mentioned, this happened a long time ago and I think today, not a lot of parents would put a 13 year old in charge of an 11 year old. But this was not unusual at all back then. In fact, I was looking after my little brother all the time before either of us even hit 10 years old.
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After a while, of course, always keeping my eye on him began to get very annoying. It interfered with my hanging out with friends. It was quite a drag when I would try to talk to girls. It was just a pain in the ass, really.
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Anyway, one day during a really hot summer, our parents decided to drop us both off at the local swimming pool for the day. My dad had to work and my mom had errands and stuff to run plus work do to do for the church. It was so hot and there was no way we could afford air conditioning. We had one old fan in the house and a sprinkler in the yard that we could go play in. But the swimming pool was the much better option.
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Of course the pool was very crowded. Lots of families would drop their kids off there during the summertime. And of course, even though I knew it already, my mom stressed to me, “Keep an eye on your little brother at all times.”
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Some of my friends were at the pool too. I got to talking to them and they told me about this new girl who moved into town. She would be starting school that fall and supposedly she was really hot. So of course, I wanted to check her out. I knew the lifeguards would be watching my brother in the water, so he would be fine.
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I went with the guys and the girl was really cute. My buddies all dared me to approach her, which was admittedly a brave thing for a 13 year old boy to do. Of course, I couldn’t chicken out in front of them, so I did just that.
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She was a very sweet girl. We actually ended up talking for a little while. Her parents were at the pool though, and they called her back after too long. So I went back to the water to see how my little brother was doing.
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The only problem was that I couldn’t see him anywhere in the water. This was a small town in a rural area, so although I said the pool was crowded, it wasn’t like a water park is crowded though. I should have easily been able to pick him out of the water. He just wasn’t there.
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I went and searched around the area surrounding the pool and didn’t see him there either. My heart started beating faster and I began panicking. I went to the building where the showers and concession stand were. He wasn’t there either. You couldn’t leave that pool without going through that building, though. I asked the attendant if a 11 year old boy had left the pool on his own in the previous hour and he told me no.
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I then went to the lifeguards and my buddies. I thought maybe there was a chance that I had missed him. It’s easy to occasionally miss someone in a crowd. The lifeguards ordered everyone out of the pool. Fortunately, there were no drowned children in the pool. Unfortunately, my brother was nowhere to be found outside of the pool.
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The lifeguards had to call my mother at the church. I had never before lost track of my little brother like this before. I had no idea what to expect when she showed up. I was only thankful that the police were already at the pool or she probably would have whipped my ass right there in front of the entire pool.
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The trouble I got into at home isn’t something that I want to go into very much. My butt very much has PTSD from the experience. But that was minor compared to the fear I felt for my little brother. Hell, I didn’t even have time to feel guilty although that I knew that I was. I was only concerned for him and wondered what would happen.
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All day and night, I expected the police to bring him home. But that didn’t happen. I expected it the next day too. But it didn’t happen.
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The town organized a search to look for him. I kept expecting to hear from them that they had found him. But that didn’t happen either.
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After about a week of my brother not being found, I began fearing for the worst. I began thinking that he was dead. And I was terrified every waking moment of my life, expecting to absolutely hear the news that his dead body was found.
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Nearly two weeks after the disappearance, we got a phone call from the police. They had found my brother and thankfully, he was alive. But unfortunately, that’s not the whole story.
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Remember the attendant telling me that no boy had left on his own? Well that’s because the boy left with one of the lifeguards who was getting off duty. He had lured my brother out of the pool and into his car with promises of ice cream, something he and I rarely ever got. And my brother went to his house with him.
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For all of that time, he kept my little brother locked up in his basement. He didn’t do anything sexually to him, thank God. But there was a lot of mental and some physical torment when my brother wouldn’t do what he was told to you. But the scariest part for him was thinking he would never get out and be with his family again.
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Here is another weird part. The lifeguard wasn’t an adult. He did this while his parents were out of town for a few weeks. They came back early and caught him. And if you think I felt bad for my parents’ punishing me, what they did to him had to be legendary. The police thought he was either planning on killing or releasing my brother before his parents got home. But no one ever knew for sure.
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He had to live with it without much help for a long time. Mental health assistance had a very bad stigma back then. But we’re both still alive today and he forgave me a long time ago.
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Number Two: Taking the Garbage Out
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A few weeks ago I went outside at around 3am to move the garbage to the curb since pickup would be in the morning. I often do this in the middle of the night. I just tend to keep weird hours and as the weather warms up for the summer I find the warm nights preferable to the sweltering days.
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I’m not worried about bothering my neighbors since I don’t use noisy bins and all of the houses right next to me are currently empty. I actually find the quiet of the neighborhood at night quite relaxing.
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Unfortunately since I don’t use bins animals are able to get into the bags a bit easier and while this doesn’t happen often it had happened on this night. So I was outside picking up the strewn around garbage and putting it into another bag when the silence of the night was suddenly broken by multiple police sirens.
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At first they seemed distant and while they startled me it was not at all unheard of to hear sirens at night here. But usually it would be one in the distance. As I listened, still bagging the garbage, I could tell it was multiple sirens and they were getting closer. Then just as suddenly as it started it stopped again. There was just silence. By the time they stopped they sounded maybe four blocks away.
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For a moment the night was silent again and I began hauling the bags to the curb when the neighborhood dogs began barking all at once. It was like every dog in the neighborhood had gotten the cue to start barking. Many were even howling. It continued for maybe a minute and once again it just stopped as suddenly as it had started.
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I realized I hadn’t heard any barking or howling while the sirens were going and that’s normally how it would work. These dogs had started up separately from the sirens and just stopped all at once. It just wasn’t normal. I went back to the side of the house to grab more bags when the silence was broken a third time.
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Just a single chime in the night. Like someone getting a phone notification. This sound wasn’t blocks away. This sound was here. RIGHT HERE. No more than feet away. As I said, the houses around me are empty.
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I was done. The rest of the garbage would wait until morning. I didn’t see anyone close by but that just made it worse. There was someone close by that I couldn’t see. I immediately went into the house to leave the garbage for the morning.
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I don’t know if these things were related. If the cops had been chasing someone who’s fleeing had caused the dogs to bark. Someone who received a message on their phone as they approached my house. Or if it was all just a coincidence. But I won’t be taking the garbage out at 3am anymore.
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A Commuter’s Nightmare
William M.
06/30/2021
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Back in the 80s, I worked at the Irwin Memorial Blood Bank in San Francisco while living and commuting from Oakland, CA
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My job as Registrar, took me all over Northern California, during Blood Drives at hospitals, clinics, major corporations, etc., where we would sometimes witness firsthand, the dead, being placed on gurneys, running out of the Coroner's or Medical Examiner’s rear doors, and down the sidewalks, because they simply didn’t have enough room or staff inside the morgues to process them. Mortuaries were having problems too due to the massive overload where deceased loved ones were admitted but not processed or interred for months or even years at a time.
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I remember watching the News and reading newspaper accounts of E.R.s in hospitals, clinics, etc. so clogged with patients, that 1 in 10 would die waiting to just get in to see a Dr. It was a Public Health and Safety nightmare. It was a National disgrace. It was politically orchestrated mass murder. It was the B purge of the ‘80s and ‘90s.
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I remember, starting work early on one of many Blood Drives (the A.I.D.S. epidemic was just getting started) and having to catch the first B.A.R.T. (Bay Area Rapid Transit) train out of the station at about 4:00 am, where morning after morning I would witness hundreds of people sleeping on the benches, or the sidewalks, or on the streets outside, waiting for it to open.
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Hundreds of others would be seen walking around like zombies in the early morning freeze amid the concomitant yelling, screaming, moaning, begging, and pleading, all of it looking like a newsreel of the death camps at Auschwitz-Birkenau.
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Many times, I was woken at home in the middle of the night, to the sounds of people howling and cursing outside my window at some real or imagined threat, until either the police came, which usually took hours because they were spread so thin, or some tenant, or other, ran them off.
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I remember the time I woke up to the sound of a woman’s voice begging in the early morning cold for someone to help her. She kept repeating it over and over growing weaker and weaker until it was little more than a whisper.
By the time I’d gotten up, armed myself with the steel-reinforced baton I’d purchased at a Police Supply store, and ran the 5 floors down to the ground floor, I found her sitting in a taxi shivering from the 42-degree drizzle coming in off the Pacific. The cabbie told me it was alright; she was just cold and needed someplace to rest and warm up; He’d drop her off at one of the nearby shelters.
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At the time, I was living in a local Residence Hall on Lake Merrit in Oakland, California which was little more than a converted Hotel from the San Francisco/Oakland Gilded Age of the late 1920s. It had 5 floors and a penthouse with a capacity of about 200. I never saw it get much beyond about 30 residents. It sported a full kitchen, dining area, big screen tv viewing room, swimming pool, and a recreation room with pool, foosball, and darts.
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I lived with a friend, at the time, on the 5th floor just under the penthouse. There was an elevator, but like most refurbs, it didn’t work. That meant we'd have to climb 10 flights of stairs every day to reach our room. The best part was that we had the entire floor to ourselves. I guess nobody wanted to climb that many stairs. Because we were both runners, it was a little like running the 900 feet to the top of Angel Island, running across The Golden Gate Bridge and back, or running the 3.4 miles around Lake Merrit twice a day.
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Because there was no air-conditioning, all the windows were left open during the summer months, but along with whatever cool air the San Francisco/Oakland Bay would bring through the gaping nearly wall-length vault ceilinged windows, it was always accompanied by the teeming, screaming City of Oakland street din: cabbies, buses, cars, trucks, vans, motorcycles, scooters, police sirens, ambulance, fire department, pedestrians, hustlers, druggies, break-dancers, prostitutes the homeless, et al. Day or night, winter or summer, it was like living in a jet engine test lab, somewhere on the 9th level of hell.
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Of course, we could always close the windows against the noise 5 stories below. But if it was summer, with all the humidity coming off the bay, we’d roast like 2 suckling pigs in our own sweat even if we used a fan.
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One night after a particularly grueling day at work, I came home, climbed Mount Everest (or at least K-2) to my steaming little abattoir, tore off my sports jacket, shirt, and tie, and fell into a coma-like sleep only to awake some 4 hours later to the sound of someone slamming a door, over and over, seemingly as hard as they could. It was about 2:00 am and raining so hard the water was pouring through the open window and flooding the floor and carpet. The sound was coming somewhere down the hall from one of the other units.
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After about the 15th or 16th slam to my inner ear, I was up, as in a trance, running like a lunatic from unit to unit and window to window, covering the entire southside of the 5th floor; battening down the hatches, and getting drenched in the process. It was, how should I say: exhilaratingly infuriating. I was supposed to get up in 2 hours and commute to work in the upper peninsula.
Having unconsciously completed this Sisyphean task and realizing that there was zero chance of getting any sleep, I donned my foul weather gear, equipped my trusty baton (I used to tuck its 2 ½-foot length up my sleeve when running), and headed out the front door to Lake Merrit which was just outside the main entrance. From there, I trotted to the sidewalk circling the lake, and began to run.
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As I ran counterclockwise against a torrential rain with a gale-force wind broken only by the occasional intermittent rainbow-hued lightning flashes which blinded me to almost everything around me, I almost ran into someone up ahead who was walking in the same direction.
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He was hunched over against the wind and rain and wearing a long heavy winter coat. Unusual for that time of year, I thought. Whenever I would run in public, I always made it a courtesy to let people know when I was approaching especially from behind. I’d blurt out a perfunctory:
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“Excuse me.” Followed by a conciliatory:
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“Sorry.”
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But apparently, the person ahead either didn’t hear me or didn’t care because, when I was about 6 feet from him, he suddenly turned around, exposing a darkened contorted face, jagged teeth, and a guttural growl that would have stopped a charging 600-pound Grizzly.
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The sheer force of the malevolence emitted from this inhuman thing almost made me stop, but because I was moving so fast, the inertia along with the gale force wind and lightning strikes propelled me past him (or it), and fingering my steel-reinforced baton, I, in turn, steeled my nerve and kept running. I looked back only once to reassure myself that he (or it) wasn’t following.
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Running on the leeward side now, with the rain at my back, I ran past a group of men in a circle smoking or drinking or doing whatever noxious or illicit thing I imagined, when, feeling charged with my own adrenalin, or the anger and resentment at that woman’s searing pleas for help, or the spook I’d almost run into, or just the gross injustices thrust upon the world in that dank, dark and dangerous time, I almost stopped, baton in hand, intending to take on the whole group: I may go down, I told myself, but at least I would take one or two with me.
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Just then, the lightning struck particularly close to where I and they stood and the sheer blinding flash and concussive boom shook all of us enough to break up their conspiratorial collaboration and my righteous crusade; just enough, that is, to shove me headlong around the next bend, to the long straight full out dash to the front doors, the 5 floors, 10 landings, and 50 risers to rain-sodden home.
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To get to work every day, I'd have to commute to the upper peninsula by using 3 buses, 1 train, and 1 cab and after a 10 or 12 or sometimes 14-hour day, I would have to take the same to get back. This meant that if I didn’t go out, make dinner, eat, or watch tv, I just might get about 4 hours sleep. Commuting took between 2 to 3 hours, one way.
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Once on the way home, almost every stop was crowded with commuters. I was told that it was because there were so many buses down for repair. The ones still running were so filled beyond capacity, that the shocks and springs were sitting on the chassis, and stop after stop proved nearly impossible to take on any more passengers. Still, and despite the few getting out at every stop, the driver would take on even more and just pack them in.
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I remember him yelling for people to get back behind the yellow line over and over. By then, he was long past any semblance of reason; his patience frayed to a single maniacal thought, his voice raspier and raspier, his manner, more and more brusk.
​
I can still see when he finally lost it; jumping up, out of his seat, with a nickel-plated 38 Caliber Revolver pointing at one of the passengers; an elderly woman, screaming from the top of his lungs:
​
“Get back behind the yellow line!”
​
I can still hear the woman begging the driver:
​
“Please...” while the passengers behind were practically trampling each other to get out of the line of fire.
I remember the sad, exhausted urgency in her voice; she really was trying to move back, but how could she, an old woman, do that with all those people blocking her way? Everyone knew this was an impossible task; everyone except the maddened driver. He just kept glaring, and bellowing with his gun out pointed right at her and the other passengers.
​
"Back up and make room" he yelled.
​
‘Or else what?’ I thought. ‘You're gonna kill an old woman?'
​
Getting up out of my seat, pushing my way through the throng who were pushing against me to get away, I managed to get within about 6 feet from the front when, roaring through the din and my fear and anger, I ordered the bus driver to:
​
“Put the gun down!” And again, with even more rage and authority:
“Put the gun down, now!”
​
The bus driver shocked that it might be a cop, or worse, shakily, put his gun back in his concealed carry holster and hypnotically sat back down. He resumed driving without saying another word. I got out at the next stop, along with the elderly woman. She was so shaken, that she busted out crying. I held her still fuming despite the close call because I would now have to wait for another bus and after that, 2 more; the train and a cab to get home. I wasn’t going to make it until well after 8:00 pm. As soon as I got home, I reported the bus number and the driver to Muni.
​
Many of the commuters I'd see day to day, or share a seat with were victims of the purge just trying to get out of the rain or the cold, or the wind, or the sun, even for just a little while. For them, it was easing the agony of living on the street, even just a little. For many of us regular commuters, during those dark times, it proved to be the same.
​
On one of the final buses that would take me to the train and across the bay, I remember standing, with about 50 others, on Market Street waiting. Like ours, stop after stop was so packed with people, some were standing in the street because there was simply not enough room on the sidewalk. The ones in the street would stay where they were for fear of losing their place and missing their connection and having to wait another hour, or more, to catch another.
​
Because the rapidly descending elevation of the southbound streets ending at Market Street from the upper peninsula were so steep and the transverse angle of the turn so sharp, some of the buses would skirt the edge of the curb, sometimes rolling up over it onto the sidewalk putting them dangerously close to the commuters waiting on the other side.
​
If there were any people in the street, especially the old or the infirm, they would either have to get out of the way and lose their place in line or hope the bus driver stopped before completing the turn. Most of the drivers would. Once there was one who didn’t.
​
I remember the television and newspaper account about an elderly woman waiting at one of the stops during the pm rush hour. When the bus made the oblique turn way too fast at 25 miles per hour she was either too close to the edge or standing in the street when she was hit by the side view mirror across the face and the left side of her head.
​
She went down under the wheels and her body got hung up under the chassis. The bus driver too full of passengers to stop, or late for his break, or just too coked up to notice, kept on heading for the Embarcadero before he realized something was wrong. By then, the woman had been dragged over a quarter of a mile. No one knew for sure whether the concussion from the mirror or the relentless dragging was the cause of death. I guess it didn’t matter to her anymore, one way or the other. It mattered to a lot of those who witnessed the whole thing though; screaming and yelling, block after block, trying to get the bus driver to stop.
​
To get across the Bay to San Francisco from Oakland or back, one alternative to the nightmare bus commute was the B.A.R.T (Bay Area Rapid Transit). It was quiet, clean, air-conditioned, and fast. Traveling under the Bay, it could span the 13 miles in minutes. Once I’d reach the train station, by bus, from the Oakland side, I’d descend one of the many street-level entries to the below-ground turnstiles which led to the train platform. Of course, there were always hundreds of derelicts, homeless, hustlers, etc., hanging out by the turnstiles waiting for their chance to slip through and get on any one of the many trains that serviced the Bay Area, but sometimes, especially after a scuffle with B.A.R.T. Security or the San Francisco/Oakland Police, they’d scatter to the winds (or the shadows as it were) until everything calmed down and then they'd be back at it again, day and night.
​
Almost every week I'd hear about someone falling, or being pushed, or jumping down onto the third rail, which would either short-circuit the line and knock out the power or if it was particularly grisly, halt service entirely. Because service resumption could take hours, waiting passengers would have to go back up and out onto the street and catch another train, take a cab or a bus or just walk or, as was often the case for me, run.
​
Once, I remember running to the next stop when I was ascending to the upper peninsula because the previous connection didn’t show up which meant it would have added another 45 minutes to my commute. The choice was obvious and inevitable: I could either
“wait to be late” or go for it. I chose the latter.
​
You just can't imagine what it’s like to run at a 20-degree angle uphill for about 2 miles while wearing dress slacks, dress shoes, a white shirt and tie, and a sports jacket, in San Francisco, during the summer, with the humidity until you’ve tried it. It’s, how should I say: exhilaratingly infuriating.
​
Running, I came upon a stand-alone, transmission shop, right in the middle of a residential area. The owners must have paid a pretty penny to get away with that one. There were police cars, the fire department, a metro ambulance, the San Francisco Chronicle, and a marked County Coroner’s Office vehicle scattered around the shop.
Some people along with some of the employees: their first names embroidered on their shirts, were standing on the sidewalk just outside the property watching. They’d been there for about an hour when I stopped to ask one of them (Bob) what happened.
​
Wearily he said:
​
“The girl who worked in the office answering the phone and typing up orders was shot to death by her boyfriend. The boyfriend got away but she was still down there being processed. God, she was only 24 years old. They’ll catch him, though. He hasn’t got a chance.”
​
'Nope,' I thought.
'In this town, I don’t expect he would.'
​
I was late again when I got home. Vaulting the 5 floors to reach our loft, I held my friend close, the entire night. She was ok with that. So was I.=
submitted by KillerOrangeCat to killerorangecat [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 05:08 Slayers_Picks UFC 289 Fight Predictions!

Hello!
I hope everyone here is doing well.
Now, this is an odd write up, in that there really was not a lot to say for the vast majority of the fights, it's such a low interest card that it feels like a fight night that they used to throw for Mighty Mouse when he defended his belt, you remember those old cards? wacky time that was.
With that said, you guys know that my interest for a card translates into far better analysis, so if this card feels like opinion instead of analysis, that's because it's one of those bad cards lmao.
Lets get this over and done with yeah?
(c) - Champ
D/DWCS - Debut/Dana Whites' Contender Series
FLS - Fight Lose Streak
FWS - Fight Win Streak
NS - No Streak
(#x) - Rank in Division
x/3 - Confidence Levels
Lets go!
Prelims
Women's Strawweight
Diana Belbita (-105) (14-7-0, NS) v Maria Oliveira (-115) (13-6-0, NS) - Well this is certainly a tale of two losers, and I mean that in the nicest possible sense. Belbita is coming off a tough but very hard fought loss against Gloria de Paula, and whilst Belbita did show a lot of initiative in starting exchanges, her strikes were only landing at a 37% rate which is fairly low. She does look busy and is very active on the feet, her striking is relatively standard, but ultimately I feel like she does tend to lack in the grappling and wrestling department. Now, Belbita is obviously a striker, she does throw a lot of volume but she also has natural power as well, however she kind of reminds me of a long reach fighter with the way they strike, its a long movement and motion that packs a lot of power, but with that comes a downside of speed, she seems like she’s punching underwater at times and whilst she can knock out her opponents, if she is facing a much quicker, more traditional combat sports striker like a Muay Thai fighter, she tends to fall behind. Oliveira is also coming off a tough loss, this time against Demopoulos in which Demopoulos ended up controlling her in more dominant positions, not allowing Oliveira to set her own pace and rhythm with her striking. Oliveira has similar grappling and wrestling disadvantages that Belbita has, in that it’s certainly not her best attribute as a fighter. However, Oliveira has been a lot more active than Belbita, and I feel like even feeling the strength and durability of Demopoulos is enough to give her a taste of things to come, and that would allow her to make the proper adjustments. Oliveira is a very explosive starter, she is no doubt a very dangerous Muay Thai fighter who is still finding her footing in the UFC, and I feel like the fact that Belbita is a bit of a striker herself will only play in the favour for Oliveira. There is also the different way both fighters strike. Belbita tends to kind of load up, you can see her pull back the punch then throw them, they’re not tight punches, and that’s where Oliveira has that advantage, Oliveira, if her team knows what they’re looking at, knows that Belbita is a bit of a long striker, and that speed is a necessity when fighting against her. I got Oliveira winning this one, she has been a lot more active and overall is, in my opinion, the slightly better pick here.
Oliveira via UD - (1/3)
Flyweight
David Dvorak (#11) (-175) (20-5-0, 2 FLS) v Steve Erceg (D) (+150) (9-1-0, 8 FWS) - This is going to be an interesting one. Dvorak is coming off two back to back losses against some incredible tough fighters in Kape and Nicolau, that’s a tough outing for anyone, and one thing that I’m almost certain of is that Dvorak has improved a whole lot just by preparing for those two warriors. Dvorak is a very well rounded fighter who has a very tight striking style, he throws his punches relatively accurately and is quick on the feet. His striking will be a necessity in this fight since he is taking on a very dangerous submission specialist, so the longer he keeps the fight on the feet, the longer Erceg will have to play a completely different game, away from any planned attacks that himself and his corner have prepared him for. Now, Dvorak has a huge experience advantage in this fight, and he has faced a litany of challenges in the UFC. I also suspect that he is very well aware of a lot of submissions that Erceg may attempt since Erceg is a very tall and long fighter, the set ups will be a bit different from a more equal physique opponent. Overall, I think Dvorak will be well prepared for anything that comes his way, although once things get to the ground, anything can happen. Erceg is coming in as a late replacement and no doubt is excited to finally fight in the UFC. Erceg has one significant win in his career that I’ll highlight, and that was against Shannon Ross, that’s one hell of a win. Erceg is an interesting one to talk about, because he also comes from a gym that is relatively small and has no major fighters, in fact I believe he is the only pro fighter, so I feel like the lack of higher level fighters in his gym might not translate too well in the competitive sphere of the UFC. I hope that made sense because I have no other way to explain why I think him being in a relatively unknown gym might hamper his capabilities in the UFC. Regardless of that though, he is still a ferocious submission artist and I suspect that from the get go he is going to look for chokes, whether its a jumping guillotine (his length may allow him to wrap up Dvorak easily) or just a takedown followed by progressional submission movements. Either way, if Erceg wins, it will have to be by submission, because I don’t see him outstriking Dvorak. I got Dvorak winning this one, but i’m eager to see how Erceg does against him on his debut.
Dvorak via UD - (1/3)
Featherweight
Blake Bilder (-200) (8-0-1, 8 FWS) v Kyle Nelson (+165) (13-5-1, 2 FLS) - I always find it difficult to categorise what a draw is, I don’t know whether to include that as a loss, or a win, so if you’re wondering why Nelson is on a losing streak, that’s why. Bilder is on one hell of a nice streak at the moment, and during his fight against Young, it became a bit clear as to why he is riding such a streak. There is a uniqueness to his movement, he is very tricky to get a hold of and his lateral movement allows him to find angles and openings, especially when his opponent wants to reach and try to land punches, he lures his opponent into his own range in which he fires away with a quick counter. He is also fairly proficient at throwing kicks, especially the left high kick in orthodox stance in which he flicks up with such speed and accuracy that it barely disrupts his own movement and motions. Bilder is also an excellent wrestler and grappler, he’s strong on the ground and often looks for takedowns, constantly keeping his opponent guessing and working, and all of this works well with his lateral movements because it makes his opponent chase and walk him down, focusing on closing distance rather than the potential level changes that might come his way. Nelson is in a very difficult spot in his career, not really a winner in the Featherweight division, he is coming off a tough back and forth fight against Choi and even prior to that hasn’t exactly won a whole lot. He is a fairly well rounded fighter who does look for takedowns fairly often, but ultimately doesn’t do a whole lot with them, he is a very submission focused grappler who doesn’t mix it up very well on the ground, he can be a bit one dimensional and I can see him being frustrated with Bilder’s movements and thus making a forced mistake in which Bilder capitalises on it. However, if Nelson turns up the offence and throws volume, that can slow down Bilder a whole lot, because the more his opponent presses the action, the more movement is involved, and that can sap at the cardio of Bilder. However, all of that aside, on paper I think Bilder is going to get a win here, he performed very well against the very dangerous Shane Young, and with him fighting in his own backyard, he has a home-town advantage which is very much a real thing, there is no need to worry about logistics of travel, adapting to time zones and knowing where to train when you’re training in the same country. I got Bilder winning this one.
Bilder via UD - (2/3)
Bantamweight
Aiemann Zahabi (+105) (9-2-0, 2 FWS) v Aoriqileng (-130) (24-9-0, 2 FWS) - Well this is certainly something. Zahabi is coming off two relatively good wins, albeit those wins have taken place in the span of two and a bit years, and the quality of his opponents have been a bit questionable. Regardless of that, Zahabi is a very well rounded fighter who has a fairly high fight IQ, which is no doubt a trait that he learnt from training alongside his brother Faras Zahabi, the head coach of Tristar. However, with how low quality his opponents have been, it’s fairly difficult to gauge where he is at compared to someone like Aoriqileng. One potential advantage that I can see Zahabi having over someone like Aoriqileng is in the wrestling department. Zahabi has a black belt in BJJ and since we know fairly well that Tristar produces outstanding wrestlers, I highly suspect that wrestling will be in the game plan since Aoriqileng is a very dangerous knockout artist. However, one thing comes into mind and that’s age and activity. Zahabi isn’t nearly as active as Aoriqileng has been, and Aoriqileng has a whole lot of experience in comparison to the older fighter in Zahabi. Aoriqileng is someone who I hyped up when he started fighting, it was everything about him that made me a fan, his nickname, his ferocity when he strikes, his first round fury and power, everything you love to see in a striker, however, he still was a bit of a greenie. Now, with more time in the Octagon against some tough competition, I think he has found his footing, and I feel like now that he has settled down a little bit and become a bit more methodical with his strikes, I suspect that he is going to have a power advantage here. The only problem is that Zahabi is a methodical fighter who can get a very good read on his opponents movements and set ups, and of course there’s that possible grappling advantage. The fact here is that it’s a highly close match and a tough one to predict, either fighter has, in my opinion, a relatively equal chance to win, but i’m gonna make a rough prediction here and say that Zahabi is going to get a win. Aoriqileng doesn’t have great takedown defence, and whilst Zahabi has not shown any capability (yet) on the ground, there is always a surprise in a fight, and I think Zahabi will make said adjustments coming into this fight. You do not become a black belt whilst training under Danaher without putting in the work, and you do not become a high level MMA fighter without the assistance of veteran coaches in Faras Zahabi. I know I sound like i’m gargling the balls of Tristar, but I think that in this particular case, style wise, Zahabi can get a win here.
Zahabi via UD - (1/3)
Women’s Flyweight
Jasmine Jasudavicius (+240) (8-2-0, NS) v Miranda Maverick (#13) (-300) (11-4-0, 2 FWS) - This is the only fight that I look forward to watching in the prelims. Well, one of two fights actually. Jasudavicius is coming off a rather boring wrestle-heavy fight against Fernandes, who was making her debut and thus kind of suffocated under the pressure of Jasudavicius and her superior wrestling. Jasudavicius is a tough one to talk about because I feel like she’s been a touch overhyped by the commentators and promotion team at the UFC, there is nothing significant about her that Maverick does multitudes better and I think the only main advantage Jasudavicius has over Maverick is her reach and height, that could cause some severe problems for Maverick, especially since Maverick will need to hunt down a takedown and that could leave her open for any knees or uppercuts that Jasudavicius has in her pocket. Jasudavicius is a good wrestler in her own right, but she hasn’t exactly fought the best competition, I mean, the best win on her record is Kay Hansen who is about as relevant as the Commodore 64. This upcoming fight is a true test for Jasudavicius, and I suspect that her striking is going to be the only major problem for Maverick. Maverick is someone who is always on my “must watch” list. If you’ve been reading my stuff for a while, you know for a fact that I think she’s going to be a contender sooner or later, she’s something special and even though she had a slip up against Blanchfield (who is now currently the hottest prospect in the division) she has improved substantially since then, a whole lot of improvements have been made to her wrestling and just her workload, she is exceptional in the cage and can absolutely wear down her opponents. The biggest difference in terms of wrestling between both fighters here is that Maverick implements ground and pound in high volume, she is a fully evolved MMA fighter and that’s the major difference maker in this fight. It’s why I think she has the best chance to win this fight. The only problem or challenge that I see Maverick running into is frustration in being unable to achieve a takedown, if Maverick cannot get a takedown, I suspect that she’s going to be behind on the scorecards because all Jasudavicius is going to do is back up and throw counters, a whole lot of jabs and just be ahead in volume on the feet. With that said though, I am in full belief that Maverick is going to get a win here.
Maverick via UD - (3/3)
Middleweight
Nassourdine Imavov (#13) (-125) (12-4-0, NS) v Chris Curtis (#14) (+105) (30-10-0, NS) - This is the other fight that I am very much looking forward to on the prelim card. Imavov is coming off quite a devastating loss against Sean Strickland, and whilst he did lose mostly due to the sheer volume and pressure of Strickland, he has gained incredibly valuable experience at the higher levels of the UFC, and is going to be a lot more prepared since Curtis is not a late replacement fight, so there is no doubt a lot of tape study and preparation involved. However, Imavov does have one major advantage that isn’t a fighting related one, and that’s that Xtreme Couture have prepared for Imavov twice now, they saw Strickland fight Imavov and no doubt went “alright so that’s his intricacies as a fighter, he likes a clean fight, so lets throw a crapload of volume and break him” and I highly suspect that Curtis is going to implement a very similar game plan this time around. However, Imavov isn’t just a striker with impeccable accuracy and timing, he is a dangerous wrestler too, and whilst Curtis has stuffed every takedown that has come his way, Imavov will still have that ability to mix it up and perhaps get a fight changing takedown. One other thing that I see happening is Imavov trying to copy what Hermansson did against Curtis, and that’s frustrate with a tactical style, don’t take risks and make Curtis force an attack, and from there, retaliate with a counter, and counters are something Imavov is very good at doing. Imavov also has impeccable footwork and I believe that he will a bit more of a chance to utilise it in this fight since its a three rounder and Curtis is not exactly as volume-oriented as Strickland is. Curtis is coming off a tough loss against Gastelum, and it was a very close fight in which a fair few thought Curtis won the fight, but that headbutt kind of changed things a bit. Curtis is a highly dangerous, well rounded fighter who is a lot more technical than Strickland, he moves around a lot more, has a lot more emphasis in his strikes and is just a bit more well rounded than Strickland has recently shown. This might create a challenge that Imavov will struggle to work around, that, alongside the fact that Xtreme Couture know Imavov’s capabilities very well might lead to Curtis having a massive advantage. Let’s not forget the fact that Curtis has 40 fights under his belt whilst Imavov has 16, advantage in experience has been proven to be a dangerous attribute. Either way, this is a very, very 50/50 prediction, but I think Imavov will be able to get a win here, his movement, evasiveness and counters might be enough to frustrate Curtis and cause him to make mistakes. However, Curtis could be a good underdog here, depending on how the line moves, and of course your own preference.
Imavov via UD - (1/3)
Main Card
Middleweight
Eryk Anders (+115) (15-7-0, NS) v Marc-Andre Barriault (-140) (15-6-0, NS) - This is bound to excite the crowd. Anders is coming off a strong win against Kyle Daukaus, and it was fairly clear from the start that Anders had a power advantage, and boy did he decimate Daukaus. Anders has always been a highly athletic and explosive fighter, but there has been one thing that has held him back, and that’s his cardio, and that’s simply because he doesn’t tag up his opponents, he throws with nasty intent and also has quite explosive takedowns, all of these things, when strung together well, make Anders a wrecking ball that not many Middleweights can stand against. As I said though, he does tend to slow down a little bit, he doesn’t throw a lot of volume and everything he does is explosive, and thus comes in short, albeit effective bursts. The primary reason why i’m talking about his cardio and his conditioning is simply because Barriault has all of that and much more. Barriault is coming off a strong TKO win against Julian Marquez, a relatively dangerous fighter but perhaps not on the level of Barriault. Barriault is a very well rounded fighter, he is a ferocious striker with incredible power, with the added bonus of having the cardio to carry said power throughout three rounds, which makes him such a dangerous challenger for anyone who isn’t able to get him taken down to the ground. Even once the fight gets taken down to the ground, Barriault is never complacent with being in a bad position, he constantly works to get back into a standing and striking position, and that alone can exhaust even his opponents. I just feel like Barriault is going to look like the fresher fighter the longer this fight goes on, and once Anders starts to slow down (assuming that Anders throws heavy and often early) that’s when we’ll see Barriault turn up the striking a little bit. This is a tough one to predict though because whilst Anders isn’t the best fighter, neither is Barriault, the only major difference between these two warriors is the cardio factor, in which Barriault wins that comparison. Bit of a short but sweet prediction here, but I got Barriault winning this one, and I suspect that this would be a late fight KO due to how durable Barriault is.
Barriault via KO R3 - (1/3)
Featherweight
Dan Ige (#13) (-230) (16-6-0, NS) v Nate Landwehr (+190) (17-4-0, 3 FWS) - Ige is coming off a tremendous KO win against the fairly tough and durable Damon Jackson, and for the most part it was a scrappy back and forth fight, with Ige looking like the more cleaner striker. Ige has always been a phenomenal boxer, and he has such substantial knockout power for a Featherweight that it doesn’t take a lot for him to land the fight-ending punch. Ige’s best attacks are within the pocket though, short hooks, especially the right one, are perhaps his most perfected weapon and he uses it brilliantly either entering the pocket or breaking from a clinch. One other thing that I need to highlight is the sheer quality of competition that Ige has faced over the past couple of years, I mean, his losing streak, whilst a bit of a bad look, is stacked with insane fighters… Evloev, The Korean Zombie, Emmett… all of these fighters are contender calibre and Ige shared 45 minutes total with them. That’s a whole lot of experience gained just from those three fights alone, so to say that there is a substantial difference in quality of competition is a bit of an understatement. Landwehr is a wildcard when he fights, but he is riding one hell of a strong streak at the moment, and each and every fight has been entertaining. This is primarily due to how much output and activity Landwehr utilises when he fights, he is a non-stop action packed fighter who throws everything and anything at his opponent and just doesn’t stop until he’s knocked out. Now, the big problem that Ige will need to deal with is the crowd, there is a possibility that the crowd roaring and cheering at the action will lure Ige into throwing wild, volume heavy combos that leaves his chin open, and Ige isn’t exactly a strong, long range boxer, he tends to overextend and perhaps Landwehr’s aim is to lure him into throwing like that so Ige can make mistakes. Landwehr and Ige’s style tends to clash in my opinion, because whilst Ige wants a methodical approach, set up his own attacks and read the actions of his opponent, Landwehr doesn’t slow down and is constantly in the face of his opponent, and that could cause Ige to lose his ability to settle down and set a rhythm and pace where he is at his best. However, despite all of that, I still think that Ige has the necessary experience to handle Landwehr, I mean, if Landwehr’s biggest attributes is activity and volume of attacks, that’s no different from Emmett or The Korean Zombie if we’re talking sheer stand up striking, and if you want to lean on the wrestling aspect of Landwehr, Evloev is a takedown machine. What I’m trying to say here is that Landwehr seems to be a combination of all three losses that Ige has experienced, and even though they are losses, Ige is the type to learn from those losses and thus turn it into an advantage.
Ige via KO R2 - (1/3)
Welterweight
Mike Malott (-210) (9-1-1, 5 FWS) v Adam Fugitt (+170) (9-3-0, NS) - Alright this is going to be a bit of a rant induced post because if we look at this without any context other than Malott v Fugitt, this is ultimately a prelim fight. Malott has no doubt been gifted this position in the main card, and some might say its for a very good reason, and I would somewhat agree. Malott has three finishes in the UFC, all in the first round, all against relatively green fighters (green = newcomers). The reason why i’m saying all of this is simply because at its core, this fight needs to be treated as a regular prelim fight where a “prospect” fights someone who isn’t quite a prospect. In this case Malott has a whole lot of momentum behind him, fighting against someone who has just found his footing. Malott is a very well rounded fighter who is highly explosive but also does everything very cleanly and just so… textbook. I don’t know if that sounds like a compliment, but with him winning his fights within minutes, it’s hard to say how far he is going to go. All I can say confidently is that he is definitely someone that we need to keep an eye on since he has the skill set to make it fairly far in the UFC, and with him being the last canadian to make a walk out to the Octagon, that’s only going to hype up the crowd a whole lot more, and Malott, who has been asking to be on this card, is going to absorb that energy like a sponge. Malott has one massive advantage that cannot be underestimated, and that’s his wrestling, he is very quick to find that takedown, but not force it, he kind of makes feints and reads before shooting for that takedown, and once the fights taking place on the ground, he works effortlessly to get into a dominant position and chase a finish. He is a genuine prospect and perhaps the only chance Canada has at really having a prospect or a future contender. Fugitt on the other hand is someone who i’m still trying to get a read on, because during his last fight against Kinoshita, he did land many takedowns on Kinoshita, but I have a rule, and it’s a rule that maybe only I follow, and that’s “the less takedowns, the better”. What I mean by that is if you are unable to keep your opponent on the ground, and you require numerous attempts to keep him on the ground, you’re an inefficient wrestler who is only wasting cardio. It’s fantastic to watch and is a display of sheer athleticism and cardio, sure, but ultimately it’s much, much better to watch one takedown followed by 4 minutes of control/ground and pound, compared to 4 of 7 takedowns for only just under 3 minutes of control time and 6 ground strikes. Do you guys understand what i’m saying? Anyway, Fugitt is, in my opinion, not on the level of Malott and perhaps only accepted this fight because its on a PPV in front of a large crowd. Rant aside, Malott in my opinion has a higher chance to win compared to Fugitt, and I say that simply because those three first round wins are nothing but immaculate displays of fight IQ and well roundedness, stuff that we need to see more of, so with that said, I got Malott winning this one early.
Malott via KO R1 - (2/3)
Co-Main Event
Lightweight
Charles Oliveira (#2) (+105) (33-9-0, NS) v Beneil Dariush (#3) (-130) (22-4-1, 8 FWS) - This is the fight we all were waiting for, i’m sure. Oliveira is in an interesting position at the moment, and I think a lot of hype disappeared when he lost his title against Makhachev. People need to remember that Oliveira has never really been a well rounded, high level fighter, there have always been holes in his games, namely his ability to take a punch, it’s not quite there any more and we saw that when he fought the three heaviest hitting fighters in the division in Poirier, Chandler and Gaethje. The main difference between these three guys and Oliveira is the ground game and that’s how Oliveira won against Poirier and Gaethje. Oliveira’s grappling is on a whole different level however, and its an interesting aspect of this fight since we are about to see Oliveira’s grappling tested once again, but this time against an incredibly hungry, and very talented wrestler in Dariush. Now, Oliveira’s striking is not going to be a major problem for Dariush simply because Dariush has excellent striking defence and tends to avoid a lot of the striking exchanges through his wrestling sequences and actions, so that somewhat eliminates, in my opinion, one major tool that Oliveira has somewhat relied on in recent years. On the ground, specifically in any submission position, Oliveira has the edge, but he has only had that edge against mostly strikers, and whilst there have been some exceptions, its clear that his last 4 wins have been mostly strikers who don’t quite have a capable grappling skill set that matches Oliveira. That is where Dariush steps in. Dariush has been on an insane tear through the division, and only recently has been on the radar in many fans and pundits minds, simply because the quality of competition kind of held him back a tiny bit. It was only when he fought Gamrot that I saw some serious potential for him holding the belt in the future. To counter-wrestle and fight that effectively against an elite, best of the best wrestler like Gamrot is ground shattering, there was of course expectations prior to that fight that Dariush could resist the takedowns, but to look that quick, with reactions that fast and the ability to adapt and adjust against one of the best wrestlers in the UFC in Gamrot really puts a shine on Dariush. Dariush has similar striking to Oliveira, in that it’s certainly a thing, but Dariush hasn’t been dropped yet nor has he suffocated under a strikers pressure, mostly due to his ability to just shoot and get a takedown. Now, obviously Dariush will need to be careful of the submission threat that Oliveira is very well known for, but any good wrestler will recognise immediately what his opponent will be setting up, and since Oliveira is primarily a submission specialist, not a wrestler, I feel like Dariush is going to just bully Oliveira on the ground. All the groundwork and fundamentals to defeat Oliveira is there, Makhachev made sure of that, and I highly suspect that Dariush is going to mimic or copy what Makhachev did, and that’s wrestle, shut down the submission capabilities by manoeuvring out of danger, and just punish with ground and pound. I got Dariush winning this one, but i’m not counting out Oliveira wholly, mostly because that submission threat is very real.
Dariush via UD - (2/3)
Main Event
Women’s Bantamweight Championship Bout
Amanda Nunes (c) (-330) (22-5-0, NS) v Irene Aldana (#4) (+260) (14-6-0, 2 FWS) - I don’t actually have a lot to say about this one. Nunes is coming off a rematch win against Pena and it was a reasonably good fight if you were a Nunes fan, and a disappointing mismatch if you were a Pena fan. Nunes has always been a step above a lot of the competition, mostly due to how shallow the division is, and just how much of an advantage Nunes has with her power and speed when she strikes. Striking is no doubt a realm that Nunes has ruled for a long time in this division, and I can only suspect that she will have a power advantage in this fight. However, when it comes to technique, she tends to fall a tiny bit behind in my opinion, she’s mostly a brawler and I feel like Aldana has a tiny bit of an advantage on the feet due to her technical boxing. However, I'm going to piss off a lot of Nunes fans (if there are any)... Nunes reached her ceiling long ago, and has not improved at all, she has begun to plateau as a fighter and is only a champion because of the lack of competition and high level fighters, and Aldana has a fairly clear chance at winning, because whilst Nunes has had a full camp, she is facing someone who she is unfamiliar with in the cage, instead of facing Pena who she shared the Octagon twice with, and whilst Aldana isn’t exactly a championship level fighter, its the technical boxing and her ability to gauge range and timing well that might catch Nunes a few times. Aldana is coming off a strong win against Macy Chiasson, and it was a bit of a rare upkick KO win that crumbled Chiasson. Now, a win against Chiasson is great and all, but to go from Chiasson to Nunes with a noticeably short amount of time to prepare is a whole different thing, not to mention that this is a 5 rounder main event makes me think that Aldana will be woefully unprepared. There is of course a chance that Nunes will get caught by Aldana, since Aldana does have the boxing advantage over Nunes, which does make me think that Aldana would make a great underdog pick, but there’s still that chance that Nunes will get a win, but really she has fought fucking shit fighters over the past few years, I mean, Megan Anderson? Felicia Spencer? That’s not bottom of the barrel competition, that’s underneath the damn barrel stuff. I do have Nunes winning purely because of the longer camp and experience in 5 round fights, especially at this calibre, but Aldana has a solid chance at winning too since she does seem like a capable contender if we are speaking on boxing skill alone. This is a weird prediction post, I know, but I truly don’t give any shits about this fight, its a coin toss.
Nunes via KO R4 - (1/3)
And that's it!
As I said, i'm not happy with this write up, only because it's such a weird card overall and I felt no motivation to write even this much for this card lmao.
Locks of the week are: Bilder, Maverick, Malott and Dariush.
Primary Parlay is: Oliveira/Belbita o1.5 - Dvorak/Erceg o1.5 - Maverick/Jasudavicius o1.5 - Barriault/Anders o1.5 - Ige/Landwehr Does Not Go The Distance
Alt Bets are: Curtis Points, Anders KO R1 or 2 (combo rounds), Landwehr ML, Aldana KO
if you wish to keep in contact with me or follow me on twitter, my twitter handle is @Slayer_Tip, and my Discord is Slayertip#7013.
Lets have a fun and friendly discussion down below about this weekends card!
I hope you all have an amazing day, look after yourselves, and enjoy this awesome event!
submitted by Slayers_Picks to MMAbetting [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 04:42 Radracon42069 Could use some help with picking a base.

Warning: long post.
Now first of all, I acknowledge that there’s a high chance I’ll probably just stay home or settle where I can without much of a choice, but I have a few places that I thought about potentially using as a sort of base of operations and I thought hey it be cool to sort of discuss what would be the best option to use. I’ll give some pros and cons and you can tell me what you think.
The storage unit: Could fit about 30 people.
A relatively small series of outdoor storage units not too far from where I live. It’s fenced off on all sides and there are some RVs, truck trailers and camper trailers in the back. It would be easy to build up defenses, there’s farm land close by (plus decent soil inside the fence) and I’d imagine the units could be repurposed into rooms. Plus there’s what looks like a water treatment area not far by. The problem is that it’s very close to the road and while it’s not exactly the most populated town it’s hard to miss it. It’s also close to a small airport, like literally across the street. Plus I am not sure how I’d get power or water to the place.
A college campus sports field Could hold 50-75+
The campus I go to has a series of sports fields for football, soccer, baseball etc near the edge of the campus. Its partially fenced off with some pretty serious metal fences and has a series of tall buildings that would be great for look outs plus hills. There’s plenty of space on the fields for tents and shelters as well as farming and live stock and the power comes from the campus which partially uses solar. The campus itself would make for a great base later on but would be impossible to clear and inhabit early on without some serious preparations. There’s also a few ponds near the field which could be used for water. Despite being by a campus it’s not visible from any main roads problems would come from the fact that the walls don’t go all the way around and depending on the time this place would be the most populated. Also while there is space to build there are no readily available shelters and power would be difficult to acquire.
the camp ground Could hold 30-50
An old family vacation spot, this place is pretty remote. There’s no store or any major city for at least 10 miles and that is a conservative estimate. While most of the camps buildings (a motel, a check in lodge, a restaurant, a canoe shop) are on the ground, most camp sites are up a steep hill with each having access to well water. There is a river as well with stretches half way around the camp site along with two ponds. There is a horse ranch across the street of the quite subtle entrance and plenty of trails and wild life to hunt. There is a wood heater which helps keep the buildings warm and everyone around is either a prepper or just wants to be left alone. The main issue is that it would be incredibly difficult to defend this place if it is ever discovered, it would be hard to get power here along with any supplies, the soil doesn’t seem the best for growing crops (course I never tried) and this location is the farthest from my home, a whole two hour drive.
If any of you guys have questions or suggestions I am all ears. Thank you.
submitted by Radracon42069 to ZombieSurvivalTactics [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 04:22 khoafraelich789 Behind the scenes of Rick Ross' massive car show at his metro Atlanta mansion

Behind the scenes of Rick Ross' massive car show at his metro Atlanta mansion
11Alive's Dawn White was allowed on Rick Ross' property for the car show, and it's a vantage point you'll only see on 11Alive.
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https://preview.redd.it/m70k9vmffp4b1.png?width=693&format=png&auto=webp&s=0713fafad836f205297d1c1ea7956aa65c0b9a3d
FAYETTEVILLE, Ga. — An event advertised as "the greatest automotive experience" rolled into metro Atlanta Saturday as rapper Rick Ross held his second annual car show at his Fayetteville home.
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Last year's event turned out to be a traffic nightmare with people stuck on roads in the area for hours, but this year, it was a much different story.
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Last year, only six officers worked the event. This year, more than 100 officers from multiple counties were out in full force.
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11Alive's Dawn White was allowed on Rick Ross' property for the car show, and it's a vantage point you'll only see on 11Alive.
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Thousands of people pulled into Ross' home known as the "Promise Land" with cars as far as the eye could see.
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“Oh my God. When we talk about last year, it's almost like you wake up to a bad dream. Traffic was horrible," City of South Fulton Police Maj. Marcus Dennard said.
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Dennard said this year was much different due to lots of planning.
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“Well, we started planning this for this thing about three months ago," Dennard said. "There are no cars parked on the side of the street in our neighborhood in the City of South Fulton. The residents, for the most part, are happy. I'm happy things are flowing straight. We talk about a wait time again, two hours compared to 15 minutes now."
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Fayette County Sheriff Barry Babb said officers helped to move traffic along smoothly by being stationed along roads and intersections close to Ross' mansion.
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"They had to use one of five parking locations, and there were also some back up lots and they would take shuttle busses here. We've only heard from one or two neighborhoods with minor problems, and we've immediately been able to address it," Babb said.
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Busses picked people up from lots and dropped them off at the car show.
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“Everything has worked out because our South Fulton Police Department worked in conjunction with Rick Ross's team and we had a multi-jurisdictional task force that's come together and made sure that they had a plan for traffic control," City of South Fulton Councilwoman Linda Pritchett said.
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No parking signs lined roads for miles in Fayette and Fulton counties.
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50 Yard Line Breakfast and Sports Bar owner Harriett Bryant said people going to the car show blocked the parking lot last year, and they had no customers. This year, business is booming.
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“It was like night and day," Bryant said. “It was great for the businesses here in the Tri County Plaza. It was just a great experience. Everything worked out. Everything was orderly.”
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Customer April Kennedy thinks this year's event was much smoother.
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“I think it was a good thing for the community. You know, as far as you know, as a car show, the kids get to come out to see all the cars, the different cars, to see, you know, what it's like. You know, they have the old school cars," Kennedy said.
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This is expected to be an annual event. Police agencies had a debriefing after the car show to look for any ways to improve it for 2024.
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Source: 11alive
submitted by khoafraelich789 to CarInformationNews [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 04:07 Sepulvd Which car would you buy between this 3

2019 land rover discovery sport SE 18k 2016 VW sportswagen sel 14k 2015 VW tiguan rline 14k
submitted by Sepulvd to whatcarshouldIbuy [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 03:33 RattyJones Haven't played in two years- now all basic classes feel useless.

Just started playing on my PC account today, I'm up to 22 as heavy and 13 as aerial. But I'm facing an issue where it feels like the moment I spot any non-basic class (commando, aerial, hero, etc.) on my screen, then I'm essentially already dead. Maybe I'm remembering wrong, but I remember that I could actually stand a chance when I was playing from 2017-2021. I cannot, for the life of me, kill these higher classes. I can shoot down plenty of vehicles and other basic classes (I seem to average 20-40 kills during long rounds), but nothing more than that. I understand why heroes kill me easily. I actually like fighting them even if I lose. But these other guys? It doesn't matter if I get the jump on them or if they catch me but I shoot first. They kill me first, 90% of the time. I also cant leave cover for a split second anymore. The only kills I can guarantee at this point are CQC kills. And that makes me feel reeaally useless.
And what's even more confusing is that I can land 85-95% of all of my shots, but it seems like the other guy can just get one shot off on me and my character blows up through the atmosphere and into another dimension. It doesn't seem to matter if I shoot them in the face or body (I try to aim for the head). Is this just a me problem? Or does any other returning day 1 vets feel the same. I kind of feel like that I'm not used to the game anymore, BF2 isn't the typical shooter.
submitted by RattyJones to StarWarsBattlefront [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 00:43 JeliPuff Felix Vail: The Pedophile Serial Killer Caught After 54 Years (PART 2)

This is Part 2 of this write-up. Please read part 1 first. This is the link:
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/143r7l9/felix_vail_the_pedophile_serial_killer_caught/

PART 2:

ANNETTE CRAVER:

Born on the 7th of December 1965, Annette Craver was intelligent and creative. At 15 she was a singer-songwriter and in her senior year at a private school that specialized in medicine. Her dream was to become a midwife.
http://charleyproject.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/vail_annette6.jpg(A photo of Annette Craver.)
In the summer of 1981, she and her mother, Mary Rose greeted people at a friend’s yard sale in the Montrose neighborhood in Houston, Texas. They had just returned from a vacation in Mexico, and Annette felt heartsick, still infatuated with a boy named Adolfo, who was unable to join her in America.
VAIL MEETS ANNETTE
While people browsed the sale, Vail pulled up on a motorcycle and spoke with Annette. He was 41 and had done some carpentry work in the area. “When I saw her, I thought, ‘That’s going to be my new girlfriend,’” he said about the 15-year-old.
In April 1982, Rose and her daughter invested in a Tulsa home that had a rental cottage behind it. Rose began renovating both. After graduating from high school, Annette joined her mother in Tulsa. Vail appeared a few days later, and convinced Annette to leave with him on his motorcycle. They lived off the $500-a-month Social Security check that she received from her father’s death 3 years prior. It would be over a year before Mary Rose would see her daughter again.
That fall, Annette (who was still 15) would fall pregnant, and Vail would force her to have a painful abortion.
Jerry Woodall, reportedly friends with Vail later recalled an embarrassing scene, where the 42-year-old Vail was in a sleeping bag, having public sex with a 16-year-old Annette, only 20 feet away from him and his then-wife Meredith McMackin. Annette grinned and waved at them. Woodall and McMackin did their best to ignore them.
McMackin would later say that Vail had “this coldness and controlling aspect to his personality. Annette was so open and alive, but I think he just totally dominated her. He would try to convey that he was this higher form of being. At first, I thought maybe he was evolved, but then I realized it was this arrogant act.”
Later that summer, police in California would arrest Vail for violating probation a dozen years earlier. Annette telephoned Woodall, who gave her $200. After Vail walked free from prison, he and Annette decided to get married. However, as a 17-year-old she needed permission.
Annette told her mother that she loved Vail, that they were already “spiritually married” and that they would travel to Mexico and get married there if she refused. Not wanting to lose her daughter completely, Rose said OK.
On August 15th, 1983, in Bakersfield, California, the couple were wed.
AFTER THE MARRIAGE
Four months after the marriage, Annette turned 18, allowing her to collect more than $98,000 ($293,500 today) from life insurance policies on her late father. Accompanied by Vail, she withdrew all the money in cash from a San Antonio bank. She bought a Fiat convertible that Vail liked and paid for his dental work.
In April 1984, Rose returned home to find Annette waiting at her door. She told her she wanted to divorce Vail, and enroll in college. She talked about Vail’s temper, including an incident where he had broken his hand trying to punch his wife. He missed and hit a wall.
A few weeks later, Vail showed up. The couple fought constantly, and Vail left after a few days. Mary Rose said that Vail was “insanely jealous” and would become furious when Annette spoke of her desire to go out with younger men.
She and Annette worked on renovating the two homes after Vail left, enjoying their time together. The 2 even started a garden together.
Annette received a letter from Vail, who vowed their time apart would fuel their love. He wrote to her: “After we hung up, I went out to a park and ran and hung and talked with God and smoked some and shot some pool and rode with the top down out through the marsh playing ‘Iron Butterfly’ [“In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”] and bathing every inch of your body-spirit being with love.”
He referred to being away from Annette as “deprivation jail” and to her ego as “his jailor.”
“The idea of her cutting away ego’s “feeder roots and creating roots between your spirit and the cosmic ground of loving makes me hot for you. My mind is kissing you everywhere.”
After that, Vail would return to Annette’s life. Rose said, “Annette told me, ‘Felix is the wisest person in the world, and I can’t make decisions without him.’” His influence on Annette had only grown stronger. According to Rose, she even compared Vail to God, a comparison Vail agreed with.
After this, the couple angrily insisted that Rose move out and deed the house to Annette. Accompanied by suicidal thoughts brought on by Vail’s continued control over her daughter, Rose left for California to stay with family and friends, deeding the house to Annette for $7000 ($21,000 today) before she did.
Annette would add Vail to the deed, and a month later had deeded him both homes, leaving him as the sole owner.
ANNETTE’S DISAPPEARANCE
Mere weeks after deeding the houses to Vail, the couple told neighbors they were leaving on vacation. When Vail returned in October, he was alone.
Vail told a neighbor that Annette had a lot of money wither her when he’d left her, and that she was likely visiting friends in Denver.
Upon learning that Annette hadn’t come back with Vail, Mary Rose called him. “He told me that while they were camping, Annette had a sexual dream about being with other men in Mexico, and she wanted to go there,” she recalled to an investigative reporter years later. “He claimed that the dream made them both realize that she should have her freedom.” The next day, Vail told her he had put Annette on a bus with $50,000 ($150,000 today) but didn't elaborate.
On Oct 22, 1984, Rose filed a missing person’s report. She told the Tulsa Police Department that each person who spoke with Vail “gets a different story about the amount of money that Annette took with her and where she might be. We all believe that he knows where she is or has done something with her.”
On January 22, 1985, Detective Dennis Davis and another officer questioned Vail at his home (This is obscenely late to start questioning him). By this point, Vail had filed for divorce, citing an inability to find her after a “diligent search.” Davis said her mother, Mary Rose, mentioned her daughter had received more than $90,000 from her father’s estate. Vail confirmed this was true, saying the couple had spent much of that money traveling in foreign countries. He said they kept their money in cash because they didn’t trust banks and that he had found about $10,000 in cash when he returned home.
The next day, Vail called a lawyer, who promised to talk with the officers and tell them to “leave me alone,” as he wrote in his journal.
When Davis returned five days later, Vail had a detailed alibi: The couple left Tulsa between noon and 3 p.m. on Sept. 13, 1984, and stayed the night in a hotel in Claremont, Oklahoma. After two nights of camping on the river, Annette woke up and told Vail she had decided to leave him. He took her to the Trailways Bus Station in St. Louis and left before she bought the ticket. (There is no Trailways Bus Station in St. Louis, and there has never been a Trailways Bus Station in St. Louis.)
He told the officers that she had told him she was headed for Denver, where she planned to get a fake ID card and leave for Mexico. When asked if he would take a lie detector test, Vail said no.
After Davis left, he wrote a letter to Rose. He blamed her for the “bad things” about Annette, told her that after the couple had returned from Costa Rica Annette had been “seeing friends and relatives --- completing her relationships with them for the purpose of getting ready to drop everybody and start over.” He wrote that Annette “disappeared herself from you” because Rose kept imposing her “value system” on her, and said Annette viewed her mother, grandmother, and herself as “zero self-image whores for approval.”
He explained the 2 had no plans to communicate, he did not know where she was, and that “I also assure you that even if I did know, I would not tell you.”
When Rose returned to Tulsa in April 1985, she entered the cottage Annette used to live in, only to find almost all the young woman’s belongings were gone, including her clothes and her diary.
Inside a Barbie suitcase, Rose found a photograph of her daughter and several of her identification cards. She also located things that Annette had written, including a Feb. 17, 1984, note that contradicted Vail’s claim that the couple had spent most of her inheritance on their travel to Mexico and Central American countries.
Instead, the note detailed how they used the money to buy the Fiat, pay off all of Vail’s loans, and deposit $36,000 into Louisiana Savings. It said that as of that day, they had $41,600 ($125,000 today) in cash.
Rose shared the information with the police. Detective Davis showed up again, and Vail told Davis the couple divided the money into smaller cashier’s checks, contradicting his earlier statement that they kept the money in cash.
After a while, Davis left, and despite the (seemingly obvious) suspicious behavior of Vail, closed the missing person’s case.
AFTER ANNETTE’S DISAPPEARANCE
Rose kept calling Vail after this and was finally able to reach him on September 14th 1985.
When asked about Annette’s whereabouts he refused to tell her.
When asked about Annette’s missing clothes he said he gave them to charity.
When asked about the insurance money, Vail told her ‘That’s all she really cared about.’ Rose hung up.
Two years later, fed up with the lack of progress in Annette’s case, Rose would return to Tulsa. She spent thousands of dollars on private investigators to locate Vail. When that failed, she simply went and found him herself.
Tipped off that he was staying at someone’s house, she went there with a friend and found him sitting outside. When asked where Annette went, he replied “Mexico.” When asked where in Mexico, he said the 2 had made a pact to contact each other every 5 years, contradicting his statement that the 2 didn’t have plans to communicate. Rose didn’t believe a word of it.
The whole time Vail never looked up, never stood up and never looked her in the eye.
BETH FIELD
Some time after this, Vail began dating Beth Field. Soon the couple had began arguing, and Vail would call her a “whore.” During a December 1987 argument, he would strike her so hard he ruptured her ear drum. She told Vail there was no justification for violence, to which he responded, “If you quit behaving like a whore, I’ll quit hitting you.”
In August 1988 Beth received a call from Rose, sharing details about the disappearance of her daughter, Annette. From that point forward, Field said she began to examine Vail’s words more closely, realizing that he had likely murdered her.
Four months after the call, he entered her home unannounced. Already drunk, he accused her of “imagined promiscuity,” according to a court order. He slapped her, struck her, and threw her across the bedroom. She asked if Vail was going to kill her, to which Vail replied, “It depends on what you tell me.”
A judge gave her a protective order, requiring Vail to keep his distance. Two weeks later, the sheriff reported that Vail was nowhere to be found.
While Field was visiting a meditation center in Texas in 1990, Vail arrived. After composing herself, she told him “There is a part of you that goes off, and it’s sick and it’s dangerous.”
He looked at her and asked, “Really?” She said “yes, really.” This time, the message seemed to go through. Vail left the next day, and with a single exception about five years later, she never saw him again.
MARY ROSE LEARNS ABOUT THE OTHER 2 CASES
In the summer of 1991 (6 years after Annette's disappearance), Rose drove over 2000 miles to Canyon Lake, Texas to speak to Sue Jordan, Felix Vail’s sister. Jordan said that Vail had told her that Annette wanted to leave, that he took her to a bus station and that she left with some Mexican men, heading for Mexico. Jordan also mentioned that Vail’s first wife had drowned, which was news to Rose.
Before she left, Jordan also told her, “Oh, you know, there was another woman that disappeared. I remember her mother calling my mother for years, checking to see if they’d heard from her. I think her name was Sharon.”
After the conversation, Rose sat down at a typewriter, writing every word she could remember. She also called the public library in Lake Charles.
The librarian remembered the 1962 drowning of Vail’s first wife, Mary Horton. She told Rose that he had taken out life insurance policies on his wife prior to her drowning and that the insurance companies were suspicious and didn’t pay the full value. The librarian made copies of newspaper articles and mailed them to her.
After reading them, Rose reached out to Mary’s family in Louisiana, speaking to Will Horton. He shared her suspicions about Vail and a copy of the 1971 National Enquirer article made after Vail's son Bill reported him to the police. When she read it, she learned that Sharon’s last name was Hensley.
In 1994, she read in the newspaper about Dolores Strehlow’s disappearance from Medford, Oregon, seven years earlier. Police had just arrested her husband, thanks to the work of Detective Terry Newell. She contacted Newell, who helped her find the family of Sharon Hensley. When Rose dialed the Hensley family, Sharon’s mother, Peggy, answered. Rose asked if Peggy knew a Felix Vail. Peggy replied with "you bet I do"
THE INVESTIGATION HEATS UP… AND COOLS DOWN
The detective who helped Rose before, Terry Newell, contacted Jim Bell, a national expert in serial killings working for the FBI. When Rose talked with Bell, she felt like she'd finally gotten somewhere. He was interested in working on the Vail case if he could swing the time. He still remained busy with active serial killer cases, helping train task forces across the U.S. Vail’s son, Bill, told Rose that he was willing to testify, as long as authorities provided protection to his family. Both the Tulsa police and the district attorney’s office in Lake Charles revived their investigations into Vail, now considered a suspected serial killer.
Bell suggested the victims’ families gather with authorities at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia, to share information on Vail. He was unable to work on the case and left the FBI in 1995. The meeting in Quantico never materialized, and the cases involving Vail grew cold once again.
A QUICK RUN DOWN OF EVENTS
In the fall of 1997, family and friends held a mural for Annette.
Diagnosed with esophageal cancer, Vail’s son Bill heard from doctors that he didn’t have long to live. He’s quoted saying “now I’ll get to be with my mom.” Months before passing away in 2009, Bill talked about his father in a recorded interview with his pastor at Grace Church in Overland Park, Kansas.
On Jan. 3, 2009, Bill died, and Vail wrote in his journal, “I feel a large empty hole in my being where his life presence has been for 47 years,” before writing about getting a good haircut. He drove to Kansas but didn’t attend his own son’s funeral. If he had, he would have heard the recording, with his son detailing how he had overheard his father talk about murdering Bill's mother, Mary.
When Vail learned of the recording, he wrote to Pastor Tim Howey, asking for a copy. He blamed his son’s statements on “false memories,” saying, “I have not known about it until now and am stunned.”
In 2012, while attempting to confront Vail with reporter Jerry Mitchell whom she had contacted to write about Vial, Rose was stopped by Kaye Faulkner, Vial’s sister. She told Rose and Mitchell of the recording and urged Mitchell to get a copy of it. She also said that she believed Vial had murdered Mary Horton, Sharon Hensley, and Annette Craver.
She gave the reporter Vial’s number, as well as the numbers of her other brother, Ronnie, and her sister, Beth. Vial didn’t answer those calls, so Mitchell left a message. Ronnie promised to speak to his brother on his behalf.
MITCHELL INVESTIGATES
Mitchell arrived in Lake Charles and stopped by the Southwestern Louisiana Genealogical and Historical Library, which shared copies from old city directories. He began tracking down people who had lived in the Maree Apartments with Felix and Mary.
Many described Mary’s fair of drowning. A close friend of Vails, Judson McCann II described Vial as a ladies’ man, and insinuated he was a cheater. “Many nights, his car wouldn’t be home, and Mary would be there with the lights on. When Felix was gone, it wasn’t because he was trotline fishing.”
Another close friend, Bob Hodges described Vial’s story of Mary ‘falling’ in the river as “horse manure.”
A college roommate of Mary, Sandra Sudduth Pratt, said “Nobody believed it was an accident.”
Mitchell shared Mary’s autopsy report with pathologist Dr. Michael Baden of New York City, who concluded that foul play had taken place in her death.
The report showed large bruises with bleeding into tissues on the left side of the neck, which he said suggested she suffered forceful neck trauma before entering the water. There were hemorrhagic bruises to the right calf and left leg above the knee, which he said were consistent with a struggle before her submersion. But most convincingly of all was the scarf authorities found around her neck that extended 4 inches into her mouth, which suggested traumatic asphyxia before entering the water.
“Somebody had to push that scarf into her mouth. She had to have that scarf wedged in her mouth before she was put in the water.”
A cousin put Mary’s brother Will Horton in touch with former detective “Rabbit” Manuel, who had headed up the Calcasieu Parish Sheriff Office’s investigation back in 1962. He had never forgotten Mary’s death. “Felix’s story just didn’t add up. The fishing tackle was dry. The trotline was dry. The boat was dry. Even Felix’s cigarettes were dry, despite him telling the deputies he dove straight in the water to save Mary.”
He and Manuel met with “Lucky” DeLouche, who directed an elite task force unit that investigated homicides. Three young detectives took notes as they talked. Manuel shared details from the case, saying deputies (officers) wanted to prosecute, but the district attorney wouldn’t let them. Horton shared the autopsy report, Vail’s letters and his belief that Vail was a serial killer. Horton said DeLouche replied, “This absolutely fits the profile of a serial killer,” to which the other detectives agreed.
Shortly afterwards, DeLouche left the task force, and for seemingly the hundredth time, grew cold again.
After Mitchell posted a story about Vail titled “Gone” (It’s nearly 9,000 words long, and the precursor to the 35,500 word story I have drawn heavily from) a man named Wesley Turnage contacted him. He told him of a conversation he had had with Vail in 1963 during a car ride.
According to Turnage, Vail called Mary a bitch and said she thought another child would help solve their marriage problems. He quoted Vail as saying, “She wanted to have another kid. I didn’t want the one I got. I fixed that sorry bitch. She will never have another one.”
Mitchell would make another discovery. District Attorney Salter Jr. had ordered that the judge dismiss 882 criminal cases — more than three cases for each working day.
Will Horton told Mitchell the original detectives in the case told him that Salter wouldn’t allow them to present the evidence they had collected against Vail. That matched the stories Mitchell had heard from grand jurors’ families.
Horton then contacted District Attorney John DeRosier, who said he would be willing to reopen the case if there was enough evidence.
Then came an interesting wrinkle in the story. Finding Vail.
He’d disappeared, returning on Labor Day weekend 2012 to sell his property, before disappearing again. Luckily, another reader of "Gone" came to the rescue. He phoned Mitchell, telling him where Vial was. Canyon Lake, Texas.
Mitchell then contacted Enzo Yaksic, founder of the Serial Homicide Expertise and Information Sharing Collaborative. Yaksic then contacted Armin Showalter, acting chief for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, which specialized in serial homicide investigations.
Yaksic shared a copy of GONE with Showalter, who in turn called Calcasieu Parish Deputy Randy Curtis, now taking on the Vail case. Curtis phoned Mitchell to find out where Vail was. A few days later, he called back to say the FBI had discovered Vail purchased property at 737 Shadyview Drive in Canyon Lake.
On Jan. 18, 2013, Curtis decided to confront Vail. He found him at that address, living in a storage shed. Curtis said he read Vail his rights before asking him about the death and disappearances of the women. Vail refused to say anything, accusing families and The Clarion-Ledger (Where "Gone" was published) of lying about him. The whole time, Vail couldn’t stop smirking.
​
Will Horton gave Mitchell the number of his cousin, who was a caretaker for 90-year-old Isaac Abshire Jr. When Mitchell sat down with the man, he shared a haunting story.
Abshire had worked with Vail and offered him a room to rent out. Once Vail and Mary were married, Vail had moved out. Abshire viewed himself as “a big brother” to Mary, calling her “a sweet little girl.”
After the marriage, Vail had become angry at work, talking about how ugly his wife was when she was pregnant, and how he didn’t like his baby. On the Friday before she was killed, the couple visited Abshire, bringing Bill, who was still an infant. Mary privately asked Abshire if he thought Vail could take her baby away.
Two days later, Mary was dead.
Abshire and two other workers went out the next day to drag the river. The next morning, Oct. 30, 1962, he returned with one of them, Jimmy May, to continue dragging.
Abshire said while they were talking, “something popped up. A guy with binoculars asked, ‘Does she have blonde hair?’ I said, ‘Yes, that’s her.’”
They recovered the body, and Abshire could never forget what he saw. Her body was rigid, and a scarf was wrapped around her neck before going into her mouth. Blood boiled on the boat, everyone voicing the same opinion. Vail had killed Mary.
Abshire had kept photos from that day for over 50 years. He said he had given them to Deputy Curtis as well as a copy of the 1962 sheriff’s report, which listed 15 points suggesting Vail’s guilt.
Despite being behind on major bills, Vail had managed to pay an entire year’s premiums in advance for a $50,000 ($150,000 today) life insurance policy on his wife. He had a second life insurance policy on her for $8,000 ($24,000 today), which promised to pay double if she died by accident.
It was almost as if he knew she was about to die.
Deputies had reported witnesses claims that Vail had told them he didn’t love his wife, that she looked stupid and vulgar, and that he had had sexual relations with multiple women, and at least one man.
Vail told deputies that his wife was wearing an off-white leather jacket when she went into the water. But she wasn’t wearing the jacket when her body was recovered. Inside his boat, deputies found two life preservers. Mary had not been wearing one, despite her fear of drowning. As for the trotline the 2 were supposedly running, deputies found it still inside Vail’s tackle box.
Most witnesses the Deputies had spoken too felt that Vail was capable of killing his wife.
When asked if he believed Vail killed his wife, Abshire said “Oh, my God, yes.”
THE CHASE & THE FINAL CLUES:
Ever since Vail had sold his Mississippi property, Mary Rose had wondered if he would eventually sell the Tulsa property, the one she and Annette had lived in. He did. Vail sold it for $149,000. Rose asked the question on the mind of everyone investigating. “What is he going to do with all that money? --- He could be running.”
On April 30th Mitchell got a call saying that Vail had left Texas. He was pulled over by police in Columbus, Mississippi after hopping the fence of his now dead brother Ronnie’s property. Curtis told Mitchell that the Columbus police were sending him a photo of Vail and the white pick-up truck he was pulled over in. He once again warned Mitchell that Vail could be running.
Vail’s sister called again, saying she heard her brother was heading to Montpelier. She wondered if he was driving to the home of possible witness Wesley Turnage.
Mitchell called Turnage to let him know that Vail might be headed his way. Turnage replied “If he sets foot on my property, there won’t be no trial.” He called Mitchell back later, saying no one in Montpelier had seen Vail.
Private Investigator Gina Frenzel, who had questioned Vail herself, including pretending to be his girlfriend, called Mitchell with good news. Vail had contacted her and told her he was back in Canyon Lake. Mitchell informed Curtis.
On May 17th 2012, authorities arrested Felix Vail for the murder of his wife Mary Horton.
In telephone calls from the jail in Lake Charles, he shared his explanation of what happened the night of Oct. 28, 1962, when Mary died.
He referred to his first wife as a “coon-ass lady,” saying she was “half kneeling” on his feet when she “saw one of the float buckets that were on the line.” He said the boat was “going real slow along the edge of the bank when the boat hit a stump ... and it dumped her right out.” Vail said he shut off the motor and dove in “where she had plopped in the water. I mean, nothing. The river had sucked her right in.” He said he “dove around until I was exhausted, and came in immediately to the police station in town and reported the accident and that was it.”
This story differed greatly from his story in 1962 when he said his wife was sitting on top of a boat seat when she fell out, not that she was kneeling on his feet. Back then, he said nothing about hitting a stump — just swerving to miss it.
It also differed from the story he had told his son, where a wave from another boat had dumped Mary out.
Vail told Frenzel that the case “has been an avalanche coming down the mountain all that time, waiting to hit my head, and it finally has.”
He blamed the families and Mitchell, “an evil, shrimpy reporter,” for what had happened, calling the charges “fabricated” and insisting that “a large amount of money, hate and political ambitions are behind them.”
At Vail’s request, Frenzel returned his truck to his home and went inside to take care of a few tasks. While there, she spent 16 hours photographing all his journals, more than 2,400 pages. She also photographed letters, documents, photographs and business cards, some dating back to the 1960s. She found a collection of women’s jewelry, old buttons, pins, and even a glass dildo.
Disturbingly, if at this point unsurprisingly, she found a photograph of a naked 3-year-old girl. Frenzel later spoke with the girl, now a woman. The journals revealed that Vail had stalked her for years.
Frenzel discovered the birth certificate of Annette Craver, who had used it for previous trips to Mexico.
Mitchell and Frenzel poured through the journals she had photographed. They noticed gaps in them that lead them to believe Vail had ripped pages out, including times when he should have been with Sharon and Annette.
His journals were dominated by sex, dreams of sex and reflected an obsession with children. In a March 27, 1986, entry, Vail wrote about the visit of a woman and her daughters in his home. “The little girls were delicious --- We massaged some, hugged & kissed some & it was 12 (midnight) & time for them to go.”
On Aug. 29, 1992, Vail walked into the Wal-Mart in West Point, and as he wrote in his journal “a 1-year-old white girl looked in my eyes loving me like there was no age difference between us.”
When Mitchell interviewed Kert Germany, a co-worker of Vail in 1977 he said that Vail attracted women wherever he went, and that Vail had told him the best sex of his life had been with 2- or 3-year-old girl.
It was that this time that Alexandra Christianson, Vail’s ex-wife called Mitchell and told him her story. She also put him in contact with Bruce Biedebach, the man she had been on a date with when she left with Vail. Biedebach would tell Mitchell that during a party in 1965 that turned into a “boast-fest” Vail had boasted about something he had done, that no one else had done.
Killed his wife.
He told the men at the party that he had held his wife’s head underwater until she drowned.
Biedebach then put Mitchell in contact with Rob Fremont, who had bicycled around California with Vail when he was 13. He said that while riding with Vail, he had told him that he hit his wife on the head and drowned her. Fremont never rode with him again after that.
With as much evidence as they could possibly gather, the case went to trial.
THE TRIAL:
Vail’s trial began on August 8th, 2016.
District Attorney John DeRosier laid out the evidence clearly.
He spoke of the evidence against Vail about Mary’s murder on October 28th, 1962.
He spoke about Vail swearing to Sharon Hensley’s mother that she wanted to start a new life in 1974.
He spoke about his letters to Mary Rose, telling her he wouldn’t tell her where her daughter Annette was “even if he knew.” Vail smirked at that one.
Finally, he spoke to the jurors.
“Mary Horton Vail is gone, Sharon Hensley is gone,” DeRosier said, “and Annette Craver Vail is gone.”
“You’re going to write the last chapter, and it’s simply going to read, ‘And justice was finally done. William Felix Vail, guilty as charged.’”
Prosecutors called all three families to testify.
Will Horton told jurors of his sister, “Mary was the kind of person you would want as a friend.” He broke while talking about visiting his nephew after he death in 1962. “I just wanted Bill to know how much his mother loved him.”
Brian Hensley told jurors that he last saw his sister, Sharon, with Vail before the pair left Bismarck, North Dakota, in 1972. Other than a telephone call and letter in the months that followed, he said no one had seen or heard from her since.
When Mary Rose took the stand, Vail bowed his head.
This was the woman who had been working for 32 long years to bring him into this court.
This was the mother who had waited 32 years for this moment.
She called Annette “a huge light in my life. We were always loving toward each other.” She testified that Vail ran off with her daughter on his motorcycle and married her. She testified that Annette, who inherited nearly $100,000 and received two homes, disappeared weeks after deeding those homes to Vail.
Wesley Turnage, Rob Fremont, and Bruce Biedebach swore under oath that Vail said he killed his first wife. Biedebach said he asked Vail if Mary was a bitch, to which Vail had said yes. Vail laughed in court as he told the story.
The current coroner, forensic pathologist Dr. Terry Welke, testified that in most drownings, the body comes up in a “dead person’s float,” with the back of the head surfacing first and the limbs hanging down in the water.
After sharing a series of pictures to show it, he showed the court two black-and-white photographs of Mary Horton when her body was recovered on Oct. 30, 1962, less than two days after she reportedly drowned. Her body was stiff, with her hands over chest as if she was in a coffin.
They also saw the videotaped testimony of Isaac Abshire Jr, who had died in 2014. He said her body was stiff when it surfaced either sideways or face up when she bobbed up in the Calcasieu River.
That testimony helped contribute to Welke’s homicide conclusion. So did the unbroken grease-like stain across her Chi Omega sweatshirt, which he believed could have come from a tarp covering her. Welke concluded Mary was dead and stiff before her body went into the water, explaining why rigor had set in.
Testimony was heard of Vail not paying for his own wife’s funeral, despite having made thousands from her life insurance.
THE VERDICT
The jury didn’t even take a half hour to reach their verdict.
William Felix Vail Sr was unanimously found guilty of murdering Mary Horton. He was sentenced to life in prison.
After the verdict, the prosecutor also revealed that the FBI had found out that Vail had molested a child over 30 years ago. They were unable to put him on trial for it, as the statue of limitations had passed.
Finally, nearly 54 years after she was murdered, Mary Horton had found justice.
Finally, 42 years after her disappearance, Sharon Hensley had found justice.
And Annette Craver, with the help of her mother Mary Rose’s tireless efforts, had finally found justice after 32 years.
https://content.api.news/v3/images/bin/f75084c7dce4fb08e12e45ccba5e40a1
This a photo of Mary, Sharon and Annette. I felt it was fitting to end off with. May they all rest in peace.
MY SOURCES:
https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/8284?nav
https://charleyproject.org/case/annette-michelle-craver-vail
https://www.clarionledger.com/story/news/local/felixvailgone/2016/12/29/felix-vail-gone-one-wife-dead-two-other-missing-jerry-mitchell/95895894/
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/5796622/mary-elizabeth-vail
https://charleyproject.org/case/sharon-hensley
https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/20525?nav
submitted by JeliPuff to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 00:23 sonofabutch Smoked out tonight, so let's remember a forgotten Yankee: Tom "Smoke" Sturdivant

The 1950s Yankee dynasty had some great hitters -- Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Moose Skowron, Hank Bauer, Gil McDougald, just to name a few -- but the key to going to eight World Series between 1950 and 1959 (and winning six of them) was a pitching staff that led the league in ERA in five of those 10 seasons -- and in the top three in all 10!
Whitey Ford was the ace of the staff, going an unbelievable 121-50 (.708 W%) with a 2.66 ERA (140 ERA+) between 1950 and 1959. And that was with Casey Stengel often skipping Ford against weaker teams to save him for tougher match-ups, meaning that most of those wins came against top competition. In 1956, for example, the Chairman of the Board had 10 starts against teams with losing records, and 20 starts against teams with records of .500 or better. He went 7-1 with a 2.27 ERA against the losers, and 12-5 with a 2.59 ERA against the winners!
But behind Ford were some pretty good if less famous pitchers, including Allie Reynolds, Eddie Lopat, Tommy Byrne, and Bob Grim. And another, even lesser known hurler won two rings as a key member of the Yankee rotation: Tom Sturdivant.
A hard enough thrower in his youth that he got the nickname "Smoke," by the time Sturdivant reached the Yankees he was called "Snake" because of the way his pitches moved. He threw a curve that broke away from right-handed batters, a screwball that broke away from lefties, a sinking fastball, and a looping change-up. All were good pitches, but none of them was great. Ted Williams was asked how Sturdivant was so successful without overpowering stuff, and he replied:
"Maybe he hasn’t got a thing. But I notice one thing. He keeps winning."
Eventually he did find a thing, though. Particularly later in his career, Sturdivant became known for his knuckleball. He would call it his "money pitch." He also complained about the pitch like an unruly pet, saying "it just won't act right 'til late in the season."
Born in Gordon, Kansas, on April 28, 1930, Thomas Virgil Sturdivant grew up in Oklahoma City and attended Capitol Hill High School. Sturdivant was signed by Yankee scout Tom Greenwade, who also signed another kid from Oklahoma, Mickey Mantle. Like Mantle, Sturdivant was signed as an infielder. But Sturdivant also was a pretty good pitcher as a teenager, as Greenwade told a reporter:
"Used to be a high-school pitcher in Oklahoma City, you know. And one of the greatest. He set some kind of record. More than 100 innings without being scored on."
Sturdivant struggled to hit his first few seasons as an infielder in the minors, hitting .246 in 281 at-bats in 1950. He then spent all of 1951 and much of 1952 in the U.S. Army, and -- as happened to most major leaguers drafted into the service -- spent most of his time playing baseball for a base team. (As Whitey Ford once said: "Army life was rough. Would you believe it, they actually wanted me to pitch three times a week!") Sturdivant's success pitching in the Army, as well as a leg injury that cost him some of his running speed, convinced him he should ask the Yankees to try him at pitching.
"I knew I wasn't getting anywhere, batting .246 in Class B, so I decided I'd better try something else if I wanted to stay in baseball, which I did, badly."
He returned from the Army in time to pitch 86 innings with the Yankees' Double-A affiliate, the Beaumont Roughnecks, and went 3-3 with a 3.56 ERA. His days as an infielder were over.
Sturdivant went 10-7 with a 2.98 ERA in Double-A the following season, and 8-9 with a 3.57 ERA in Triple-A the year after that. Yankee pitcher Allie Reynolds, a fellow graduate of Capitol Hill High School in Oklahoma City who had gone 20-8 for the Yankees in 1952, had retired after the 1954 season. That winter, he worked with Sturdivant and told him he might make the Yankees in spring. Sturdivant's hard work that off-season impressed manager Casey Stengel. "We learned that he can be a fighter, and that's what we want with this club," he said.
He made the team out of spring training and made his major league debut on April 14 against the Red Sox at Fenway Park -- Boston's home opener. Bob Grim started the game and was bombed for five runs on seven hits through six innings. Sturdivant entered the game in the 7th, with the score 5-2, and gave up another run. The Yankees battled back in the bottom of the 8th, scoring two runs on back-to-back singles from Elston Howard and Jerry Coleman to make it a two-run game, but Sturdivant gave up a two-run single in the 8th to pitcher Ellis Kinder to put the game out of reach again, and the Yankees lost, 8-4.
In 33 games that year, Sturdivant posted a 3.16 ERA and a 1.302 WHIP, not bad for a rookie. He didn't give up a lot of hits, but he did walk 41 men in 68.1 innings. Stengel didn't mind that, though. In a 2020 article, "Big Walkers", Bill James wrote about how Stengel employed a strategy of "pitching around" power hitters. When a slugger was at the plate, pitchers were coached to work the edges of the plate, not giving him anything good to hit. He might chase pitches and strike out... he might hit something off the end of the bat... or he might walk. Any of the three, in Stengel's opinion, was a better outcome than throwing a pitch down the middle to a guy who could hit it 450 feet.
As a result, the Yankees often were near the top in walks allowed -- but also in fewest home runs allowed. And also in double plays. And also, not coincidentally, in earned run average.
In his five seasons with the Yankees, Sturdivant walked 221 batters in 524.1 innings (3.8 BB/9), but only gave up 45 home runs (0.8 H9). He also induced 44 double plays. James, in looking at what made the Yankees successful in the 1950s, discovered that they had a huge differential in HR-GIDP. In 1955, Sturdivant's first year in the league, the Yankees hit 175 home runs, and grounded into 101 double plays (+74). Yankee opponents had 108 home runs, and grounded in 145 double plays (-37). In 1956, the Yankes were +86, their opponents -53.
James wrote:
This is not a typical championship team pattern. In many areas, the 1950s Yankees were just an ordinary team. They really had only one outstanding starting pitcher, while Cleveland usually had three or four. But the Yankees huge advantages in Home Runs vs. Double Plays enabled them to win almost every year.
Sturdivant rode this strategy to back-to-back 16-win seasons, going 16-8 with a 3.30 ERA (118 ERA+) in 1956, and 16-6 with a 2.54 ERA (142 ERA+) in 1957.
After those two great seasons, though, Sturdivant's career went up in... well... smoke.
In Spring Training 1958, he held out for a raise, eventually signing for $18,000, a $4,000 raise from what he'd made the year before. He gave up 10 runs in his first two starts of the year, and then missed a month with a sore arm. When he came back, he was hit hard in his next three starts, and was banished to the bullpen. After a pretty good month (8.0 IP, 4 H, 1 ER, 4 BB, 7 K), he was put back into the rotation, and went 3-2 with a 3.31 ERA in 32.2 innings, but his arm still wasn't quite right, and he missed some time in August due to a heel injury. He was on the World Series roster in 1958, but didn't pitch.
All off season there were rumors that Sturdivant was on the trading block, and after another slow start -- 0-2 with a 4.97 ERA, and still bothered by his sore arm -- he was dealt to the Yankees' favorite trading partner in the late 1950s, the Kansas City Athletics. "Snake", along with Jerry Lumpe and Johnny Kucks, was dealt for Ralph Terry and previously forgotten Yankee Hector Lopez -- a pretty good deal for the Yankees, as Terry and Lopez helped the Yankees to five straight pennants and two championships between 1960 and 1964. Lumpe, a little used utility player with the Yankees, proved to be a solid regular for the Athletics and then an All-Star with the Tigers in 1964. But Kucks, an All-Star with the Yankees in 1956, was done, going 12-21 with a 4.78 ERA (84 ERA+) in two seasons with the Athletics, and was out of baseball after the 1960 season.
Sturdivant would hang around another five seasons, and pitch for six different teams! He went from the Athletics to the Senators -- not the original Senators, who were now the Twins, but the expansion team founded in 1961 that would become the Rangers in 1972 -- then the Pirates, the Tigers, back to the Athletics, and then rejoined Casey Stengel on the Mets in 1964. Over that stretch he went 21-20 with a 4.16 ERA and 1.301 WHIP as a swingman.
The 34-year-old Sturdivant announced prior to the 1964 season he was running for the Oklahoma State Senate and that he'd quit baseball if elected in November. The Mets beat him to it, though, releasing him in May after he posted a 5.97 ERA in 28.2 innings. Maybe more as a campaign ploy, in July Sturdivant signed with the Oklahoma City 89ers. He went 6-3 with a 3.89 ERA and 1.365 WHIP in 74.0 innings. He lost the election, and retired from baseball.
After that, Sturdivant owned a trucking company and tried to drum up support for the Hall of Fame case for his old mentor Allie Reynolds.
In 2000, the 69-year-old Sturdivant was in a serious car accident. Someone -- he never learned who -- found him on the roadside, thrown from his truck after it had rolled five times. When the ambulance arrived, they thought he was dead. They strapped his body to a stretcher and loaded him into an ambulance.
Sturdivant told sportswriter Brian Jensen:
"When we were driving to the hospital, I was in the back and they had me strapped down and I guess when I came to, I raised my head and I said, 'hey could y'all call my wife for me,' and the driver almost jumped out of the van. It just wasn't time for me to go."
He had broken his back, both hips, his pelvic bone, his tailbone, multiple ribs, and had a punctured lung. He never recovered.
"I don't have a life," Sturdivant said. "You know, I have a hard time remembering a lot of stuff and I'm kind of slow. I kind of have little spells where I pass out and have a hard time walking straight."
Sturdivant died on February 28, 2009.
Smoke Show:
Sturdivant remained a Yankee for life. After his playing days were over and he was living in Oklahoma, he was an early adopter of a subscription service that allowed him to watch Yankee games!
submitted by sonofabutch to NYYankees [link] [comments]

2023.06.07 23:48 Putin_On_You Weird shifting or brake issue?

My 2017 Fiat 500 with the 6 speed Aisin has been a bit quirky since I bought it. First Quirk, when it downshifts from second to first it will sometimes feel like it's lurching or almost like the brakes are trying to lock up? Only does it at that downshift point and only in drive mode. Sport shifts really well. Second Quirk, sometimes when I go from park to drive or even reverse it almost feels like an old truck when you go to put it in gear and it lurches and you can physically feel the car going into gear. Other times it just feels like all my other cars, smooth and unnoticeable. I've had both problems looked at by the dealership I bought it from and a trusted mechanic that I do business with. The mechanic at the dealership said that he's had two and the old one his wife had did and still does the same thing. His daughter still drives it but his newer one doesn't do either one of those. Sorry for the long wall of text but I've been chasing this since I bought the car in February with no real answers. Just wanting to know if this is considered normal ish lol. Any help would be appreciated!
submitted by Putin_On_You to fiat500 [link] [comments]

2023.06.07 22:38 timelessselfless 39 [M4F] #Tennessee or open to relocating: Calm confidence, cocky competence, and playful wisdom. Seeking my forever.

Hello there! I'm a laid back 39-year-old working professional who is seeking the right woman to enjoy the rest of my life with. Life is challenging, but even the most difficult waters are worth it if you know how to embrace joyful living.
I work in the digital realm of information technology. I enjoy my career, but mostly because it allows me to engage in one of my deepest passions, problem solving. I have an innate need for understanding, figuring out how things work, how to fix them, and how to improve them. I am also quite handy, as I grew up the son of a general contractor, and have helped many homes rise and fall. My parents threw enough at me to ensure an enduring base level of competence in all things I try. Though I can be a bit playfully cocky, this is more just a natural confidence derived from experience and reflection over the years.
I spend a lot of my time reading and learning about things that interest me. Will I ever use the fact that you can dilute gold with silver and dissolve it in a solution of muriatic acid in order to strip other heavy metals out and ultimately purify the gold? No, probably not. But if I ever find myself in such a situation where that information is required, I'm prepared. Speaking of prepared, I'm a bit of a prepper, as you might call it. It's obvious which direction we're headed, and it's likely things will get a little ugly. So, if you're looking for somebody to go target shooting with, get a bit of land and some self-sustainability, while slowly accumulating precious metals as the banksters, one-world-government authoritarians, and progressive NPCs continue to burn the world to the ground, I might be your guy.
When I'm not immersed in the fascinating realm of tech or youtube rabbit holes, you can find me indulging in a few other choice hobbies. Rock climbing is one of my favorites, it's an excellent mix of strength, flexibility, balance, and creativity. I also enjoy cars, well, driving fast more accurately, and recently had a lot of fun driving exotic sports cars on the local track. I'm down for most activities in the sun, but I also really enjoy relaxing with some video games, a nice craft cocktail, watching thunderstorms, and the occasional joint. I enjoy improving my cooking skills and refining recipes over time. Cooking allows me to unleash my creativity while satisfying my senses in a delectable manner.
In a partner, I'm seeking someone who possesses a captivating intellect or curious nature, a sharp sense of humor, and a good natured disposition. I value empathy, understanding, and emotional vulnerability as I believe these qualities form the foundation of a strong connection. Exploring boundaries, trust, and deepening intimacy through sex, touch, and physical affection is also an important aspect of a relationship to me.
If you're an open-minded woman who appreciates a confident yet silly man with a curious mind, traditional mindset, and is interested in finding the right person to start a life with, I'd love to hear from you. Message or Chat is fine.
submitted by timelessselfless to AgeGapPersonals [link] [comments]

2023.06.07 22:27 strabosassistant Essay [v0.9 2 of 2] Pitchforks to an Android Fight: How A.I. destroys the class power balance

Part 2 of 2: All constructive criticism is welcome and the more specific, the better.

Bringing a pitchfork to an android fight

This leaves the ruled with the sole strategic deterrent of their collective potential for violence. The deterrent is twofold:
  1. Their potential as agents of coercive violence on the part of intra-class competitors
  2. Their collective power as a ‘mob’ or mass movement that if necessary can overwhelm through numbers (a la Bastille)
In societies, where the institutions of legitimacy are hereditary, intra-class rivalries are more likely given the largely unconditional and irrevocable nature of legitimacy conferred by birth. No effective mechanism can remove class membership without challenging the legitimacy of the institution conferring membership.
Privileges and special treatment are often accorded to members of the same class in external societies with matching institutions of legitimacy. These privileges can even hold in wartime where either special treatment during capture or prohibitions against shedding ‘royal’ or ‘noble’ blood set class members apart from the ruled populace of either society.
This irrevocability of status limits the ability of a class to neutralize rogue members. Even if rejected by other class members, rogue members are often able to still garner support internally and externally based on their claim to legitimacy as in the case of James Francis Edward Stuart.
This inherent instability results in the courting of the ruled by competing members of the ruling elite as agents of violence. It can be as gross as the direct financing of the Clodian and Milonian gangs by Caesar and his opponents or the actual bidding war for the Roman Imperial purple by Didius Julianus. Or it can be as professional as purchasing the services of condottieri during the Italian city-state conflicts. The commonality is gathering enough of the ruled to bludgeon other members of the ruling elite into submission.
The 20th century saw the beginning of the end for hereditary institutions of legitimacy. The Chinese and Russian Communist revolutions as well as the ascent of Nazism in Germany represented the rise to power of ideologies that were fatally antagonistic to the aristocracy) and royalty. The post World II breakup of the British Empire - especially in India - saw the removal of more hereditary rulers as former colonies coalesced into independent modern nation-states. Even the former imperial leader saw radical institutional shakeups. The Labour Party’s victory in the 1945 elections started Great Britain’s transition from hereditary legitimacy as well culminating in the House of Lords Act 1999 and its following updates. In less than 100 years, a substantial portion of humanity transitioned their institutions of legitimacy and the basis of ruling elite power.

The end of elite intra-class conflict

Modernity has seen the irrevocable legitimacy of birth and descent replaced with the conditional legitimacy of intellectual compliance with the ruling elite’s philosophy or ideology. This phenomenon is most easily discerned in the Soviet Union, Communist China and other formecurrent Communist countries.
Elites were subject to constant surveillance and purged for even small infractions of ideological deviation. Surveillance was pervasive - so pervasive that in East Germany it was estimated that there was one Stasi (secret police) informer for every 6.5 citizens. Once identified as deviants, purged members were de-legitimized prior to removal in tightly controlled trials where ‘extracted’ confessions were presented as damning evidence of ideological nonconformity. This ‘delegitimization’ was so effective that popular uprisings on behalf of purged members were/are virtually nonexistent. With no legitimate claim or access to energy in the system, the purged members are rendered powerless to raise groups of the ruled to save them.
In Western Europe and the vast majority of the Anglosphere, credentialism is the preferred institution of legitimacy and can be revoked unlike inherited nobility or spiritual superiority. Credentialism (nominal meritocracy coupled with ideological compliance) forms a framework of class control slightly less punitive, yet every bit as pervasive as the Communist regimes.
In a credentials-based system, the institutions that bestow credentials - such as elite universities - represent a significant chokepoint of control over ruling elite members.
Attendance has its privileges. In the United States, Ivy League and Ivy League plus graduates are overrepresented in the upper echelons of US government, business and non-profit institutions. Currently 8 out of 9 US Supreme Court justices are graduates of just two law schools: Yale and Harvard Law. 4 out 5 of the last US Presidents graduated from Ivy League schools.
However, despite representation as a ‘meritocracy’, admission to and attendance at these institutions are not contingent solely on merit. The most obvious exceptions being legacy preferences and affirmative action. Legacy preferences and affirmative action are non-merit criteria for admission that enables ruling elites to play gatekeeper and prefer members of their class or preferred candidates for addition to the class.
Less obvious though is the implied ideological conformity to become a member of these credential granting institutions. During the 1950s and 1960s, the whiff of Communist sympathies could blacklist an individual from these institutions. In present times, differing views on gender, race, immigration or even ‘lack of personality’ can bar an individual from admission, cause rescission of admission or expulsion from these credential granting institutions. Earned credentials can be revoked for academic disagreement if it buts against the class consensus as is the case in California where disagreement with the ‘consensus’ over COVID now allows medical license revocation.
Technology makes possible the ubiquitous yet decentralized class policing to maintain conformity in the West. Stray comments from years in the past during literal childhood are now grounds for exclusion or ‘cancellation’. Social media and cancel culture allows class coordination in real-time with everything captured on phones and immediately shared on Twitter, Tiktok, Instagram to generate instant class outrage and cancellation - all without recourse to a government institution. There’s no longer a need to ‘eliminate’ someone when a bot can post inciting content that results in the loss of credentials, employment and social status for the problematic individual.
Whether the punitive Communist system or the slightly less punitive yet every bit as controlling Western system, the revocable nature of legitimacy in both systems enables modern elites to resolve intraclass disputes without having to resort to mass violence. Expulsion from the institutions of legitimacy is possible without death and can be instantaneous since unlike birth-descent legitimacy which only ends upon death, removal of a credential or Party membership doesn’t require the individual to be found, seized and killed. A few keystrokes and boom! - virtual death.
This ease and swiftness of delegitimization means class dissidents are less likely to be able to garner and maintain enough popular support necessary to violently contest for supremacy.
While beneficial to the ruling class, this removes participation in the informal violence of intraclass conflict within the ruling elite as a path of advancement or accommodation for the ruled. The ruled are no longer needed to maintain the intra-class balance.

We need pitchforks. Lots of pitchforks.

The ruled populace’s sole remaining leverage is to act as members of the formal security institutions of the society such as the armed forces or law enforcement.
The structure of the armed forces mimics the same control structure as other social institutions with the officers corps overpopulated with members of the ruling elites and the bulk of recruits from the other strata of society.
In the US, the bulk of the enlisted recruits - 80% - 90% of the total - are from households under $100k annual income. With an average income of slightly over $50,000, these recruits’ household incomes are significantly below the top 10% annual income average of $173,000 .
Doing the bulk of the fighting and dying has meant that the ruled populace has enough strategic value to the ruling elite as violent counterbalances to external elites that accommodations in energy distribution and class membership are a grudging but recurring feature of political history.
There’s a roughly direct relationship between conflict severity and the level of accommodation. The violent global paroxysms of the 20th century (WWI, WW2, the Korean War) saw the advent of socialized medicine), the GI Bill and other concessions throughout Western Europe and the Anglosphere. The Cold War saw the further growth of the welfare state in the societies of the West as well the advent of a series of development/aid programs directed towards the developing world. The ruling elites of the West and the Communist bloc competed with accommodations to shore up their popular support domestically and globally in case of another world conflict that might be nuclear and apocalyptic in nature.
The Vietnam War represented the beginning of the end of this type of popular accommodation in the United States. The usual inequities of socioeconomic status vs combat exposure were hyper-magnified as college and health related exemptions allowed many scions and aspiring members of the ruling elite to avoid the conflict altogether.
This left the armed forces composed of draftees - disproportionately from the lower socioeconomic classes - commanded by the few volunteer members of the ruling elite. The results were disastrous. Social justice protests, McNamara’s Morons, ‘fragging’ and other disciplinary and performance issues - caused by the imbalanced force structure - proved such a toxic stew that the US moved to an all-volunteer force in 1973.
The move to a professional army removed the need for broad-based popular consent to ensure force cohesion during conflict (or so the theory went). And with the decreased need for broad-based support, the US ruling elites began to contract the post-World War accommodations and welfare-state.
First to suffer was veteran treatment as the soldiers exposed to Agent Orange were denied compensation and care for the myriad health problems resulting from their exposure. The 1980s saw the beginning of the end for The Great Society welfare state and culminated with the ‘end of welfare as we know it’ being signed into law by President Bill Clinton in the 1990s. Offshoring began in the 1980s and accelerated with NAFTA and China’s accession to the WTO. This coupled with the Reagan-Bush-Trump tax cuts further eviscerated the middle class which typically provides the bulk of armed forces recruits.
Initial impacts on operational readiness appeared during the first Gulf War, Afghanistan and the second Gulf War but were ameliorated by extended and repetitive use of reserve forces. However, recruiting has plummeted across the board and the soldiers that fought the last three American conflicts are aging out of service eligibility. In 2022 and 2023, it is projected that all branches except the Space Force will have failed to meet recruitment goals.
The likelihood that new recruitment techniques will improve the situation are grim as the Army estimates that only 23% of the 17-to-24 year olds in the US would even qualify as recruits. The other 77% are unable to pass the basic armed forces entrance exam or are too overweight/obese to meet minimum fitness requirements.
A shrinking pool of recruits has not impaired the ruling elites’ willingness to engage in armed conflict to achieve their geopolitical goals. Currently, the United States and its NATO allies are engaged in a proxy war in Ukraine against Russia. The United States, Taiwan, Australia, South Korea, Japan and the Philippines stand on the verge of conflict over Taiwan and access to the South China Sea.
All of the actors in these brewing or ongoing conflicts are experiencing some degree of demographic decline with severe population declines projected for Russia, Ukraine, China, South Korea, Japan and much of Europe. The United States is projected to be buoyed by immigration however the native birth rate has already plummeted below replacement levels.
This leaves the ruling elites with the confounding situation where the current economic and political institutions they control have ennervated the ruled populace to the point it impairs their ability to project power externally. Rebuilding the middle class that provides the bulk of recruits would necessitate major structural changes that would greatly lessen their class’ control and at least a generation of time for enough children to be born to erase the recruitment deficit.
Reversing 40-years of rigged economic and political policy alone would represent a Herculean task. But couple this with natural class resistance to any loss of control egged on by the psychopathy of the class leaders, the necessary changes are improbable to the point of impossible.
With no change and conflicts on the immediate horizon, the ruling elites have one solution left to them to replace the dispossessed recruitment pools of the middle class - artificial intelligence and autonomous weapons.

Move over humans. It’s time for something scarier.

A.I. powered weapons offer a number of advantages over human combatants. Not only does A.I. already demonstrate tactical superiority against human opponents in simulation, but its unique nature is particularly appealing to the ruling elites.
Without conscience or kinship ties or moral safeguards, the A.I. soldiers will pursue any objective regardless of the dubious nature of the orders. History would have been markedly different if A.I. soldiers had been present in the Soviet Union during the hardline coup against Gorbachev or available to the Arab rulers during the Arab Spring. Implementing Asimov’s Laws of Robotics would be foolhardy in a combat android but even if implemented, the noted problems of AI control could result in unintended casualties.
Additionally, as non-humans, casualties no longer equal declining morale in the armed forces and society as a whole. The Vietnam War demonstrated the impact of seeing body bags of soldiers returned home. During the Afghanistan, Gulf and Iraq wars, this type of footage was banned (until 2009) to stop the type of social unrest that occurred during the Vietnam War when the public was faced with the direct cost of conflict. It is doubtful that humans will see injured or killed A.I. soldiers in the same empathetic light as they do human casualties. Risky missions start to have acceptable loss levels and this change enables more aggression on the part of ruling elites.
But the greatest advantage of the new A.I. soldier is that there is absolutely no need for accommodation by the ruling elites to the ruled populace to maintain their base of power. A newer, remorseless and completely obedient purveyor of violence is now available to the ruling elite. It makes no demands beyond bare functioning and feels no emotional remorse for immoral acts.
These A.I. soldiers that are capable of maintaining the developed world’s strategic parity to the global masses’ numbers can be also used internally to quell any possible dissent or mass movement. A.I. generally offers unlimited potential for surveillance and internal class discipline but coupled with advances in robotics, it will offer an ethics-free physical enforcer to combat protests like Sri Lanka, Canada, the Netherlands and the United States. There are no repercussions available for the A.I. soldier since they have no personhood or control so even the spotty administration of ICC justice isn’t a deterrent. Already law enforcement agencies in Los Angeles, New York and other jurisdictions are deploying robotic dogs - which is eerily reminiscent of the usage of attack dogs by oppressors through history. An A.I. soldier that was used for similar purposes would have no fear of punishment or injury or fear at all unlike the officer or even the dog in past situations.
Attempts to control this new technology and A.I. soldiers are manifesting in calls for A.I. regulation and licensing by the ruling elites of the US and Western Europe. The potential for positive change through a human-A.I. partnership is tremendous and widespread availability has the potential to provide the ruled populace with substantial technical and economic advancements without the overhead of the ruling elite. Citing the danger of extinction by A.I. while simultaneously continuing development of the technology highlights how disingenuous the call for regulation is by the ruling elites. In reality this is a call to restrict any dangers presented to their institutional control of education, finance and healthcare as well as their monopoly of violence within society.
The future is grim for the ruled populaces of humanity. At a time that technology could power the solutions to climate change, economic collapse and space exploration, the technology is being evolved and restricted to prop up the ruling class’ domination. And with no bargaining chips left - whether as producers or gangs or soldiers - the real extinction crisis may not be for humanity as a whole but for the ruled.

Appendix: A Classical Case of Control

Pre-Marian reforms

In the pre-Marian reform Roman Republic, strict divisions were made between patricians )and plebeians with severe restrictions on political and religious participation placed on the plebeian class. Military service was strictly limited to property owners to ensure that the landowning class maintained a monopoly on violence. A credo of tribal superiority ranking Roman -> Latin -> Italian -> non-peninsulars was embodied legally in tiered political membership of Citizen -> Latin Rights holder -> Foreigner. Membership was zealously policed by officials called censors who were initially exclusively patrician.
The patricians of Rome were successful in maintaining their monopoly of power until a series of secessio plebis (Latin: withdrawal of the commoners or secession of the plebs) or general strikes by the plebeian class forced the patricians to cede some power, privileges and land to the plebeian class. Faced with complete economic standstill, a series of accommodations were made to maintain the viability of the power structure itself.
This cession of power was largely illusory though. While technical class distinctions were removed, the old patrician class and the wealthiest of the plebeian class merged through co-option and intermarriage to form a new nobility that enforced their new collective will through property qualifications restricting political participation.
This new nobility fought any further accommodations to middle and lower classes such as the Gracchan, Marian and Livian reforms. The brothers Gracchi and Livius Drusus) were killed and Marius died in the middle of a civil war with Sulla and his noble adherents.
Conquest and the resulting ubiquity of slavery destroyed any further economic leverage the lower classes had. With literally millions of slaves now cheaply available, laborers, craftspeople, shopkeepers and domestic employees were dispossessed of their livelihoods as slaves replaced them in their jobs. Small landholders were driven off their farms and into the urban stews as the treasure of conquest inflated the price of real estate astronomically.

Post-Marian reforms

The Marian reforms left one avenue for the lower classes - the military. As the rich and powerful (Marius v Sulla, Pompey v Caesar, Augustus v Antony) fought each other for supremacy within their own class, the poor were courted with numerous concessions and bonuses to serve as soldiers for the powerful.
While always at the whim of the commander (barring assassination) who was always a member of the ruling class, military necessity served as a check on the ruler's ambitions. Armies need soldiers and another ambitious member of the same class could always bribe or recruit soldiers with better terms to topple the current leader. A degree of class balance was a necessity to preserve the power structure.
For those who couldn’t or wouldn’t join the army, panem et circenses (bread and circuses) dulled the need for rebellion. Gladiator games, free food distributions and occasional money distributions maintained a docile subsistence-based population that remained fairly quiescent until the late Western Empire despite depredations by the landed elite and nobility.
The system despite all its inequities suffered along for multiple centuries until external pressures and the depredations of the nobility overwhelmed the economic and military capacity of the Empire and resulted in its fall in 476 CE. But it’s important to note that the system wasn’t overthrown from within but overwhelmed from the outside.
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2023.06.07 22:18 Negative_Spend83 Trying to determine if my dad is a narcissist

Hey guys, I’m a 25(M) and recently sober after a long stint of alcoholism, and I’ve been trying to unpack the root of my substance abuse issues lately. Also before I get into this, I live in the DFW area now but still on my mothers insurance (BCBS of Alabama), so it has been very hard to find therapy that accepts my insurance, and I'm not very well versed on recognizing narcissism I guess, so just wanted to see what you guys thought.
So my Dad was born in a pretty poor family in Alabama in like the 60s, and did the whole like good ole boy childhood, then joined the Air Force and got a degree in computer science. He did do really well for himself, and our family was like upper middle class, so I had financially a pretty comfortable childhood. My parents both like whooped me and my 2 sisters growing up, but honestly like everybody in mf Alabama early 2000s was whoopin there kids so I don’t like think that was a huge deal. I guess though when I look back like there were times my dad went over the line. He punched me in the face once because I couldn’t carry a like piece of furniture we were moving. He really wanted me to be like a sports star, and I was like kinda athletic but just not like anything special, but he was so hard on me with that shit. In baseball like when I started the actual kid pitch, he took me out to a field and like beaned me with 10 balls and made me stand there so I wouldn’t be afraid of the ball (which like to this day I’m fuckin terrified of baseballs haha). He would make me get outta the car after a football game if I played bad and run down our driveway, which was half a mile long, and drive behind me and act like he was going to hit me. He hit me a few times with a stick in front of these older boys that were helping us clear some land because I couldn’t like pickup a log. I got all these memories of him saying terrible shit like, “you’re gonna make him weaker than he already is” that made like my self imagine throughout high school really low. He was very verbally abusive to my mom and older sister as well, but only really physical with me.
Anyways like I hated being home growing up and moved down to this boarding school in Mobile, AL for my last two years of high school. I look back and like that probably saved my life, because I was like becoming increasing depressed and like honestly violent and disconnected. He was always like right on my ass though, like turning off my phone if I missed a call or telling me I couldn’t go back to that school when I would come home. This continued throughout college.
I did really well in college, even with like severe alcoholism haha got an accounting degree, and I have a really solid job (somehow), and support myself and everything. I don’t talk to my dad a lot. He and my mom got divorced when I was 20, and our family has kinda centered around my mom, and like he’ll call me, but most of the time I just kinda ignore it or make an excuse, because I’m so anxious to talk to him.
Yesterday he was flying through DFW, and I hadn’t seen him in like 6 months and went to grab dinner on his layover. During that dinner I told him that I was sober(he kinda knew I had a problem with alcohol), that I was like eating good and working out and like doing so well at work, and his response was like “hmm”. Like kinda like a hmm I don’t know about that. Really kinda took the air outta me. He proceeded to kinda dominate the entire convo with telling me how hard it was to find a new job, how he doesn’t want to keep dating his girlfriend because he doesn’t like her kids, how my sister was dumb for not waiting longer to have a kid (she’s 29 and married, going to be like the first kid from me or my siblings) and how he’s depressed since none of his kids will talk to him. Just kinda anxious now because I know he’s going to be expecting me to talk to him and come visit.
Sorry yo know that’s a lot, and I’ve written this post out like 20 times and deleted it before, but just thought posting this might give me some like advice or encouragement ig. It’s just fucking hard sometimes.
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2023.06.07 20:41 newsupdatehindi Top Women Boxers in the Wirld

Top Women Boxers in the World-

We Are Listing the Top Women Boxers in the World can be subjective and may very depending on Various Ranking andPersonal Opinions. However here is a list of Accomplished and Highly Regarded Women Boxers who have made significant contributions to the Sports-

List of Top 20 (Twenty) Women Boxers In The World

📷Photo: Top Women Boxers In the World1.Claressa Shields

2.Katie Taylor

​

3.Cecilia Brækhus

4.Amanda Serrano

5.Jessica McCaskill

6.Terri Harper

7.Seniesa Estrada

8. Mikaela Mayer

9. Delfine Persoon

10.Heather Hardy

11.Mariana Juarez

12.Nicola Adams

​

13.Hannah Rankin

14.Jelena Mrdjenovich

​

15.Maiva Hamadouche

16. Daniela Romina Bermúdez

17.Yesica Bopp

18. Ewa Piatkowska

19. Ramla Ali

20. Savannah Marshall

Read More....
Cholesterol Lowering Treatment : कोलेस्ट्रॉल कम करने का रामबाण इलाज
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2023.06.07 18:50 Justwonderinif Post Conviction II

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[Post Conviction III>>]()
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