Mens brown leather gloves cashmere lined
I might be the weirdest proof that you can be both gorgeous and ugly as sin simultaneously
2023.06.09 09:00 classicmimi I might be the weirdest proof that you can be both gorgeous and ugly as sin simultaneously
I'm a 27 year old woman. I was always insecure about my looks as a teen, and it was confirmed to me by just being very unpopular with boys/men and being straight up called ugly etc, but as a young adult I quickly got over it and ironically one day not long ago I had a mini glow up.
At around 25 I started just looking prettier for reasons that are beyond me, BUT my face is now very strange because it's both pretty or incredibly weird depending on very little.
And no this is not in my head, because I now am asked out by cute dudes fairly often (which is funny cuz I grew to identify as gay) but I also notice some men telling me they find me super attractive at first then being uninterested in a matter of minutes. Towing the line of being considered conventionally pretty and absolutely gross is kinda nuts to me.
So about my looks : I'm Moroccan so I have somewhat tan skin, thick black eyebrows, full lips, almond shaped brown eyes that I think are my best attribute, and ...drum rolls...a deviated septum on a hooked nose (yeah I got lucky lmao) + a deviated jaw but here's the fun bit : these two things do not look the same from any angle and they therefore make or break my attractiveness by an extremely long shot with moving my face just a bit. Some angles don't reveal these oddities at all and show a symmetric pretty face but turn me just a bit to the left or right and boom. And I know everyone looks different depending on angles but I'm talking about a critical difference. I can go from a solid 8 to a 2 in seconds because my nose and jaw are so asymmetrical that I can look like 6 different people in one photoshoot.
I don't dress particularly sexy and wear only eye liner so makeup doesn't weigh in that situation, I'm almost always bare faced.
Once again my self esteem is fine because I've learned to just accept it and feel confident anyway, plus i'm gay and women tend to not care as much about looks (not always but mostly). I really just posted this like a case study of my own face as in I think it's bizarre as hell.
I would post photos but I'm scared of breaking my anonymity so if you'd like to know, DM me cause I'd be curious to have a brutally honest opinion from someone I'm not close to.
Important clarification : I have a type 3 malocclusion so my jaw is prominent and also pointing left, and i also have a deviated septum. Both of these were told to me by a doctor so really not in my head.
submitted by classicmimi to beauty [link] [comments]
At around 25 I started just looking prettier for reasons that are beyond me, BUT my face is now very strange because it's both pretty or incredibly weird depending on very little.
And no this is not in my head, because I now am asked out by cute dudes fairly often (which is funny cuz I grew to identify as gay) but I also notice some men telling me they find me super attractive at first then being uninterested in a matter of minutes. Towing the line of being considered conventionally pretty and absolutely gross is kinda nuts to me.
So about my looks : I'm Moroccan so I have somewhat tan skin, thick black eyebrows, full lips, almond shaped brown eyes that I think are my best attribute, and ...drum rolls...a deviated septum on a hooked nose (yeah I got lucky lmao) + a deviated jaw but here's the fun bit : these two things do not look the same from any angle and they therefore make or break my attractiveness by an extremely long shot with moving my face just a bit. Some angles don't reveal these oddities at all and show a symmetric pretty face but turn me just a bit to the left or right and boom. And I know everyone looks different depending on angles but I'm talking about a critical difference. I can go from a solid 8 to a 2 in seconds because my nose and jaw are so asymmetrical that I can look like 6 different people in one photoshoot.
I don't dress particularly sexy and wear only eye liner so makeup doesn't weigh in that situation, I'm almost always bare faced.
Once again my self esteem is fine because I've learned to just accept it and feel confident anyway, plus i'm gay and women tend to not care as much about looks (not always but mostly). I really just posted this like a case study of my own face as in I think it's bizarre as hell.
I would post photos but I'm scared of breaking my anonymity so if you'd like to know, DM me cause I'd be curious to have a brutally honest opinion from someone I'm not close to.
Important clarification : I have a type 3 malocclusion so my jaw is prominent and also pointing left, and i also have a deviated septum. Both of these were told to me by a doctor so really not in my head.
2023.06.09 08:25 yishengsweater men wool,fleece blazer,lambswool Turtleneck remedy
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submitted by yishengsweater to u/yishengsweater [link] [comments]
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2023.06.09 08:25 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.09 06:47 PlumpPhoenix Torrhen Hornwood, Lord of the Hornwood
Reddit Username: PlumpPhoenix
Discord Name: plumpphoenix
Name and House: Torrhen Hornwood
Age: 21
Cultural Group: Northerner (First Men)
Religion: Old Gods
Appearance: Torrhen has short dark brown hair that is at most ear length, and is clean shaven. He is of average height but has a robust build. He is very much a warrior. He is slightly darker than the average Northman, a tan that was obtained over his years as a sellsword in Essos. He has dark gray eyes that are prototypical of a Northman. He dresses simply, wearing furs and leathers with little adornment to them. The only symbol on his clothing is that of his house, that of the bull moose. Even then, the adornment is small in size.
Trait: Strong
Skill(s): One-Handed Swords (e), Two-Handed Weapons (e), Riding , Vanguard (e), Tactician
Talent(s): Games (Board/Card), Gardening, Cooking
Negative Trait: N/A
Starting Title(s): Lord of the Hornwood
Starting Location(s): White Harbor (changed this on advice of another player)
Alternate Characters: N/A
Bio:
Torrhen Hornwood was born the last of four children to Lord Jorah Hornwood and Lady Alys Glover. His elder siblings in order of birth are Beron Hornwood, Alaric Hornwood, and Alarra Hornwood. As the third-born son and the youngest in the family, it was generally expected that he would not inherit into any lands or holdings. In most other families, it would have been likely that Torrhen would have received a lord’s education from a Maester before going off to find his own destiny and life. However, Lord Jorah Hornwood was a man who was a meticulous planner, and assigned every child’s destiny to them shortly after birth. He had dreams of making House Hornwood a house of great repute and renown, and wished each child of his to form a part of a greater whole. Therefore, Beron Hornwood, as the eldest, was specifically trained to be the lord’s heir, to be a master of diplomacy and intrigue, to charm and to impress. Alaric, the lord’s spare, was educated in numbers and administration, so that he would serve as his brother’s steward and principle advisor. Alarra was raised to be the perfect lady, so that she might help to forge a marriage alliance with another noble house. Finally, Torrhen was raised to be a soldier, so that he might server as the master-at-arms and lead his brother’s armies. Although his father had his plans, he could be cruel in crushing his children’s other interests and hobbies.
As such, when it came to skill at arms, although all the sons received some training, it was Torrhen who was deemed the primary focus of the master-at-arms instruction, and worked in a brutal regime, drilling for hours each day every day. He was additionally brought up learning military strategy and tactics, and studying ancient battles from before and after the Conquest. He did learn what would be considered an acceptable education for a noble in numbers and letters from the Maester, but beyond that his father demanded that Torrhen focus on martial skills. This decision did not disappoint Torrhen, as he largely did not really care about nor have any particular talent or gift for numbers and administration.
He was not particularly close with any of his brothers or sister, in part due to an 6 year age gap between the younger two siblings and himself, and also due to a difference in upbringing, as the other three siblings were educated together largely under the care of the Maester, whereas Torrhen was largely educated out in the field. The only member of his family with whom he was close to was his mother, who secretly taught Torrhen how to garden, as such a hobby was considered by Lord Jorah Hornwood to be beneath Torrhen. On his 14th name day, Torrhen was given a fine crafted bastard sword as a gift and has subsequently used that blade in every battle and fight he has been in.
In 195 AC, when Torrhen came of age, Lord Jorah Hornwood announced that Torrhen would depart for Essos at once, where he would take up residency and arms among the Ragged Standard, so that he would further hone his martial skills in genuine live combat. All the necessary arrangements had been made, and Torrhen departed that evening. Whilst overseas fighting in the Disputed Lands, he became familiar with foreign cultures and developed an interest in them. During this time, he became acquainted with various board and card games that were frequently played among sellswords, and was halfway decent at them. He additionally began to learn the basic tenets of cooking, after he grew tired of eating the same gruel that the Ragged Standard called food. This skill came particularly useful during a difficult campaign in the Disputed Lands, where the sellswords of the Ragged Standard were forced to consume rats and insects to survive. However, life was not all perfect in the Hornwood. In 198 AC, Beron Hornwood disappeared without a trace one evening. Servants had opened his chamber door to find the bed neatly made and empty, with no evidence of any struggle. None of the guards had seen him depart and to this day his disappearance remains a mystery. When Lord Jorah sought to recall his second son, Alaric, home from the Free Cities where he was being educated more deeply in numbers, the ship that was carrying Alaric was destroyed in a storm and sank without even seeing White Harbor. In the face of many of his sons dying and his lifelong established plans being torn asunder, Lord Jorah died in a fit of rage.
The news of Lord Jorah and his two elder brother’s deaths only reached Torrhen in 200 AC, when he had returned to Lys after a final campaign in the Disputed Lands. Upon finding out the news, he chartered a ship to White Harbor, where he expects to assume his duties as the Lord of the Hornwood.
Timeline:
179 AC - Torrhen Hornwood is born the fourth child of Lord Jorah Hornwood and Lady Alys Glover
183 AC - Torrhen begins learning the basics of gardening from his mother
185 AC - Torrhen begins his training in arms with the Master-at-Arms of the Hornwood
193 AC - Torrhen is gifted his bastard sword
195 AC - Torrhen departs Westeros to join the Ragged Standard and engage in combat in the Disputed Lands
197 AC - Torrhen distinguishes his skill as a commander and fighter in a difficult campaign while in the Disputed Lands.
200 AC - After returning from campaign, Torrhen discovers the news about his father and brothers and opts to return to Westeros and the North.
200 AC - Torrhen arrives in White Harbor. Present Day.
Hornwood Family Tree
NPCs
Alarra Hornwood: (Archetype: Castellan) Alarra is not considered a comely nor homely woman and is tall and strong, taller than Torrhen. She wears her dark brown hair with braids and it flows down to her shoulders. She possesses intelligent dark gray eyes, and has a mind suitable for administration and numbers. She enjoys wearing subtle grays and whites as color in her clothing, and wears slightly more elaborate clothing, such as fine linens and silks.
Lady Alys Glover: (Archetype: Trader) Lady Alys, the mother of Alarra and Torrhen, is still alive. She has black hair that has begun to gray, and has brown eyes that are soft. Despite her age, she still possesses a strength in her posture and eyes. She is a woman of average height and build. She dresses similar to her daughter, but wears more reds and grays in the color of her house.
Maester Walder: (Archetype: Medic) The Maester assigned to serve the Lord of the Hornwood. He is a man of middle age, with a slight receding hairline of gray hair.
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Discord Name: plumpphoenix
Name and House: Torrhen Hornwood
Age: 21
Cultural Group: Northerner (First Men)
Religion: Old Gods
Appearance: Torrhen has short dark brown hair that is at most ear length, and is clean shaven. He is of average height but has a robust build. He is very much a warrior. He is slightly darker than the average Northman, a tan that was obtained over his years as a sellsword in Essos. He has dark gray eyes that are prototypical of a Northman. He dresses simply, wearing furs and leathers with little adornment to them. The only symbol on his clothing is that of his house, that of the bull moose. Even then, the adornment is small in size.
Trait: Strong
Skill(s): One-Handed Swords (e), Two-Handed Weapons (e), Riding , Vanguard (e), Tactician
Talent(s): Games (Board/Card), Gardening, Cooking
Negative Trait: N/A
Starting Title(s): Lord of the Hornwood
Starting Location(s): White Harbor (changed this on advice of another player)
Alternate Characters: N/A
Bio:
Torrhen Hornwood was born the last of four children to Lord Jorah Hornwood and Lady Alys Glover. His elder siblings in order of birth are Beron Hornwood, Alaric Hornwood, and Alarra Hornwood. As the third-born son and the youngest in the family, it was generally expected that he would not inherit into any lands or holdings. In most other families, it would have been likely that Torrhen would have received a lord’s education from a Maester before going off to find his own destiny and life. However, Lord Jorah Hornwood was a man who was a meticulous planner, and assigned every child’s destiny to them shortly after birth. He had dreams of making House Hornwood a house of great repute and renown, and wished each child of his to form a part of a greater whole. Therefore, Beron Hornwood, as the eldest, was specifically trained to be the lord’s heir, to be a master of diplomacy and intrigue, to charm and to impress. Alaric, the lord’s spare, was educated in numbers and administration, so that he would serve as his brother’s steward and principle advisor. Alarra was raised to be the perfect lady, so that she might help to forge a marriage alliance with another noble house. Finally, Torrhen was raised to be a soldier, so that he might server as the master-at-arms and lead his brother’s armies. Although his father had his plans, he could be cruel in crushing his children’s other interests and hobbies.
As such, when it came to skill at arms, although all the sons received some training, it was Torrhen who was deemed the primary focus of the master-at-arms instruction, and worked in a brutal regime, drilling for hours each day every day. He was additionally brought up learning military strategy and tactics, and studying ancient battles from before and after the Conquest. He did learn what would be considered an acceptable education for a noble in numbers and letters from the Maester, but beyond that his father demanded that Torrhen focus on martial skills. This decision did not disappoint Torrhen, as he largely did not really care about nor have any particular talent or gift for numbers and administration.
He was not particularly close with any of his brothers or sister, in part due to an 6 year age gap between the younger two siblings and himself, and also due to a difference in upbringing, as the other three siblings were educated together largely under the care of the Maester, whereas Torrhen was largely educated out in the field. The only member of his family with whom he was close to was his mother, who secretly taught Torrhen how to garden, as such a hobby was considered by Lord Jorah Hornwood to be beneath Torrhen. On his 14th name day, Torrhen was given a fine crafted bastard sword as a gift and has subsequently used that blade in every battle and fight he has been in.
In 195 AC, when Torrhen came of age, Lord Jorah Hornwood announced that Torrhen would depart for Essos at once, where he would take up residency and arms among the Ragged Standard, so that he would further hone his martial skills in genuine live combat. All the necessary arrangements had been made, and Torrhen departed that evening. Whilst overseas fighting in the Disputed Lands, he became familiar with foreign cultures and developed an interest in them. During this time, he became acquainted with various board and card games that were frequently played among sellswords, and was halfway decent at them. He additionally began to learn the basic tenets of cooking, after he grew tired of eating the same gruel that the Ragged Standard called food. This skill came particularly useful during a difficult campaign in the Disputed Lands, where the sellswords of the Ragged Standard were forced to consume rats and insects to survive. However, life was not all perfect in the Hornwood. In 198 AC, Beron Hornwood disappeared without a trace one evening. Servants had opened his chamber door to find the bed neatly made and empty, with no evidence of any struggle. None of the guards had seen him depart and to this day his disappearance remains a mystery. When Lord Jorah sought to recall his second son, Alaric, home from the Free Cities where he was being educated more deeply in numbers, the ship that was carrying Alaric was destroyed in a storm and sank without even seeing White Harbor. In the face of many of his sons dying and his lifelong established plans being torn asunder, Lord Jorah died in a fit of rage.
The news of Lord Jorah and his two elder brother’s deaths only reached Torrhen in 200 AC, when he had returned to Lys after a final campaign in the Disputed Lands. Upon finding out the news, he chartered a ship to White Harbor, where he expects to assume his duties as the Lord of the Hornwood.
Timeline:
179 AC - Torrhen Hornwood is born the fourth child of Lord Jorah Hornwood and Lady Alys Glover
183 AC - Torrhen begins learning the basics of gardening from his mother
185 AC - Torrhen begins his training in arms with the Master-at-Arms of the Hornwood
193 AC - Torrhen is gifted his bastard sword
195 AC - Torrhen departs Westeros to join the Ragged Standard and engage in combat in the Disputed Lands
197 AC - Torrhen distinguishes his skill as a commander and fighter in a difficult campaign while in the Disputed Lands.
200 AC - After returning from campaign, Torrhen discovers the news about his father and brothers and opts to return to Westeros and the North.
200 AC - Torrhen arrives in White Harbor. Present Day.
Hornwood Family Tree
NPCs
Alarra Hornwood: (Archetype: Castellan) Alarra is not considered a comely nor homely woman and is tall and strong, taller than Torrhen. She wears her dark brown hair with braids and it flows down to her shoulders. She possesses intelligent dark gray eyes, and has a mind suitable for administration and numbers. She enjoys wearing subtle grays and whites as color in her clothing, and wears slightly more elaborate clothing, such as fine linens and silks.
Lady Alys Glover: (Archetype: Trader) Lady Alys, the mother of Alarra and Torrhen, is still alive. She has black hair that has begun to gray, and has brown eyes that are soft. Despite her age, she still possesses a strength in her posture and eyes. She is a woman of average height and build. She dresses similar to her daughter, but wears more reds and grays in the color of her house.
Maester Walder: (Archetype: Medic) The Maester assigned to serve the Lord of the Hornwood. He is a man of middle age, with a slight receding hairline of gray hair.
2023.06.09 06:03 Objective_Campaign82 Sins of the Father Ch36 (Hellworlder pirates 2)
Standing and moving still brought the Arbiter a lot of pain. But the Law’s grim enforcer couldn’t let anyone see that weakness. Especially not with the pirate before them and the very same assassin who had nearly killed them weeks before beneath that pirate’s foot.
The Arbiter had only just been cleared for light duty and decided to spend that time with the Officers in charge of watching the pirates Demon ship. They weren’t ADCU since those officers couldn’t be wasted on a simple stakeout. The Arbiter however had been assured the Officers in charge there were the best they had. But not two minutes within the stakeout tent the Arbiter had learned that the pirate Captain had slipped past the officers assigned to tail her. And more disturbingly that every pirate who left the Astaroth had slipped their tails with disdainful ease.
That led to the Arbiter learning that all the officers in charge of the overwatch operation were actually low level beat cops and file clerks. Looking into the system used to select these officers the Arbiter learned that they weren’t just incompetent, but so incompetent that the staggering number of negative reports had confused the filing system and had placed them into the highest bracket of trusted officers. The system was made to calculate negative values but couldn’t properly place such incompetent people into their proper bracket because there wasn’t a bracket appropriately low enough to place them into. So instead it simply went past the lowest level and placed them into the highest level.
And of course such poor officers couldn’t simply be fired because the officers workers union would make a fuss. Which meant the SS couldn’t replace these idiots with any slightly more intelligent sapients.
The bureaucratic idiocy was so infuriating that the Arbiter had lashed out at a nearby pole before they could think better of it. The pole snapped at the impact, fell over, and collapsed half the tent with it.
After that little outburst the Arbiter decided to take a walk and calm down. Only to stumble upon the missing pirate captain locked in a life-or-death battle with the very same assassin who had ambushed them just weeks before.
The Arbiter hadn’t been there for the start of the fight, but simple deduction was enough to reason that the assassin had likely initiated the conflict. They had mentioned Astarte’s name on the night of the attack. And the Pirate had no reason to seek out and attack the assassin.
During that fight The Arbiter had barely survived their encounter with the assassin. The assassin’s prosthetic modifications presented a gap in power that the Arbiter just couldn’t bridge. But despite fighting what should have been a one sided battle, the pirate was doing surprisingly well. In fact if the Arbiter was any judge, Astarte seemed to have a slight advantage.
Not in speed, power, or endurance. The assassin’s mechanical body was simply too powerful for a human to matchup. But in skill Astarte out matched the mechanical assassin.
Astarte dodged and weaved without effortless ease, getting past the assassin’s guard to strike at their, or her, mechanical body. If the assassin hadn’t been a machine then Astarte would have won by now, even with the gap in power.
Rachel felt slightly ashamed at her own poor showing against the assassin when compared to Astarte’s fight. The shame then quickly burned into anger as the Arbiter gripped the rifle at their side and pulled it out to try and shoot the assassin. Unlike the Arbiter had been that night, Astarte was wearing that ridiculous dark red armor and had a sword like she was some sort of space samurai. The Arbiter had done well that night, and their lack of superior weaponry had been their only flaw. One that had been amended with the addition of a more powerful pulse rifle.
They tried to line up a shot on the assassin that wouldn’t hit Astarte, when Astarte began to speak. “You wanna know the funny part. Greyson didn’t even care that you were gone.”
Wait, did these two share a past. The Arbiter guessed that old saying about birds of a feather was true. Who was Greyson? Some sort of man they had both known?
“Didn’t even question me about. Just said ‘Zera’s gone, now you will guard my back’” the pirate continued. “Then not even a week later I was second in command and got to sleep in his comfy bed.” The pirate gave her attacker a sloppy lascivious grin.
“And then you killed him like the deceptive whore you are!” the assassin spat, her attacks becoming sloppier with more openings.
Where these two quarreling over a man? The Arbiter felt bile rise into their throat. Two of the deadliest human women they had ever seen fighting over some man they had known. Pathetic. No man was worth that. Especially not whoever this Greyson bastard was given how quickly he had let the pirate into his bed after his first girlfriend disappeared.
Wait, Greyson, pirate, dead. Were they talking about the infamous human pirate, Byron Greyson? The one who had been a menace to the Femeri system, who was responsible for the disappearance of over thirty thousand humans and the deaths of many more? The one whose headless body had turned up one day aboard the drifting remains of the Black Saint? It couldn’t be, right?
But the rise of the Astaroth and Astarte had happened shortly before Greyson’s mysterious death. It seemed too coincidental.
“Of course I did, I refused to be the latest women he ruined and dumped into the gutter. Face it, your days were numbered. If it wasn’t me it would have been him.” The pirate said with a derisive sneer.
A bit callous and mercenary, but if they were discussing Greyson then likely not inaccurate.
The assassin however didn’t see that logic. “LIAR!” she screamed as she flew into a rage.
Then the Arbiter saw the reasoning behind Astarte’s taunts. This assassin was dangerously unhinged, and Astarte was using that to bait her into a trap.
The next sequence of attacks was too fast for the Arbiter to follow. A sword hilt to the face, followed by something launching out of the assassin’s arm. Then somehow Astarte had her other arm in her grip and flipped the assassin over a shoulder. With the assassin on the ground, Astarte quickly pressed one leg to their back, and with the arm in hand began to pull. The assassins sudden ultrasonic scream made the Arbiter vison darken at the edges, and maybe caused their ears to bleed a little.
Then the arm came out with a pop and the screaming stopped.
The pirate looked at the arm for a second, before lifting it above her head and swinging it down into the assassin’s head. The loud conk of metal on metal was enough to startle the Arbiter out of her awe and terror.
The barrel of their pulse cannon lifted up with Astarte centered in its sight “FREEZE!” the Arbiter roared with all their might.
Astarte paused mid swing, looked towards the Arbiter, and then raised both of her hands above her head. As well as the assassins severed arm. “It was self defense.” The pirate said quickly.
The Arbiter could have sworn they saw a flash of red. But it happened so fast that they weren’t sure if it was really there. And if it was then why would the pirates eye flash red?
The eye crossed by a gruesome scar. Did the pirate have a glass color changing eye?
No, her eyes were both clearly moving around and focusing on things like they should. Could it be cybernetic? Those were supposed to be impossible, too complicated to properly miniaturize with current technology.
It was something to investigate.
The Arbiter had been so focused on Astarte that they hadn’t been watching the assassin close enough. In a movement the Arbiter hadn’t seen the assassin threw Astarte off her back before popping up to her feet. Astarte went down onto the ground and the assassin lurched forward to attack her downed foe. But before she could reach the pirate three quick blasts from the Arbiters rifle stopped her in her tracks.
One had winged her side, another went wide. But the third had caught her right where a liver should have been. The assassin stuttered, but wasn’t dead. They dodged the next shot by ducking and then the second by somehow leaping ten meters into the air and onto a window seal. The assassin looked down on the two women and was clearly judging their chances at victory. But with an, admittable impressive, one-handed springlike flip Astarte was back on her feet, sword ready for another round.
The assassin’s strange mechanical face scowled before another impossible jump sent her over a nearby building and out of sight.
The Arbiter relaxed once the assassin was gone, but Astarte didn’t. The pirate turned, grabbed the Arbiters gloved hand, and pulled her into a jog down the open alleyway. “Come on, there’s an open lot nearby. Can’t jump us from there.” She said without looking back as she dragged the Arbiter along.
For a stunned few seconds Rachel stared at the strong hand grasping her own smaller one. But then the Arbiter saw the logic in Astarte’s worry and forced their hand to release the pirate and ran alongside her.
A few times the Arbiter had noticed a thin humanoid shadow leap between the buildings above them, but a quick turn down an alley from Astarte had them moving away from the incoming ambush from the assassin chasing them via roof tops. In no time at all they made it to an open loading dock for a nearby warehouse. Astarte ran into its center and scanned the roof tops, the Arbiter followed suit.
The Arbiter and the Pirate stood back to back, each searching for any signs of the mutual foe.
“There!” Astarte shouted while pointing her finger at a roof top.
The Arbiter stared up, but couldn’t see anything. But following the pirate’s direction they raised their rifle and shot at the edge of the building Astarte had pointed at. The blasts landed and then the crouched figure of the assassin rose up and backed away.
How had the pirate seen her? The Arbiter spared her a glance and saw a second flash of red before the pirate shifted her head.
“You should call for backup.” The pirate stated while still scanning the roof tops.
“To arrest the assassin?” the Arbiter asked before they could think better of it.
Astarte snorted. “Wouldn’t trust any SS to arrest a dead log, let alone Zera. But more witnesses might scare her off.”
Two things stood out in that statement, the assassin’s apparent name, and “SS, is that supposed to be short for station security?”
“Schutzstaffel actually, its just a strange coincidence they line up” the Pirate joked wryly.
The Arbiter scowled “You think the Station security are like the Nazi’s?” The Arbiter’s lessons about the various evil factions during Earths history had left her with nightmares for years. Crucifixion, death by a thousand cuts, blood eagles, and the like had disturbed their six-year-old mind. Their lessons had spent weeks on all the evils humanity inflicted upon each other, all the way until First contact.
“If the kinky boot fits.” Astarte said while examining the Arbiter’s own black boots.
The Arbiter swished their cloak to hide their boots, and the pirates gaze snapped back up to the rooftops. The Arbiter made the call, and the idiots in charge of the tent said they would need a few minutes to ‘locate’ their rifles and arm shields. Why they had to be located in the first place confused the Arbiter? They couldn’t be so incompetent as to not know where their weapons were, right?”
Tense minutes past before Astarte let out a sigh of relief. “I think she gave up.” she then shot the Arbiter an accusing glare “I almost had the bitch. If you hadn’t interfered we wouldn’t have to worry about her coming back.”
"You expect me to stand by while you committed murder?” The Arbiter growled, now stepping back from the pirate and reaching for a set of cuffs.
The pirate frowned, then glanced up as if recalling a distant memory. “I… ugh felt my life was in imminent danger, and feared for my life while facing down a clearly aggressive and violent deathworlder with a weapon. I used whatever objects I could find at the time…I carry no weapons and was forced to use ceremonial objects in crude, and ugh…unusual ways for self defense. I did not think retreat was possible so I acted to end the threat” she said in a bland staccato rhythm of everyone reciting words from memory. Her words obviously citing several different laws pertaining to self-defense.
The Arbiter felt an eye twitch. “The law pertaining to Deathworlder assailants was not intended to include Deathworlder victims.” The Arbiter said slowly.
Astarte shrugged “Union vs. Trevor Philips established that the enforcement of the law was done by the letter of the law, not the spirit. By that ruling and precedent I acted reasonably and was within my rights for self-defense. Any attempt to detain me would result in punitive measures from my legal representation.”
In all their time on the ADCU the Arbiter had never encountered a criminal so well versed in the intricacies of Union law. Some loop holes were well known, and easy for Officers to circumvent in order to attain an arrest. But the Arbiter hadn’t encountered something like this before.
The Arbiter looked down and noticed the sword she still held, red blood from the pirate running down its blade. “So that sword isn’t a weapon?” The Arbiter asked pointedly.
The feline smile that covered Astarte’s face sent shivers up their spine. “My dear officer, as you can notice I am of half Japanese heritage, a hafu if you will. I am dressing in the traditional fashions of my people. The armor, the katana, and the wakizashi are all hallmarks of the samurai I am descended from. None of these are worn for anything beyond cultural heritage. And for that matter, my crew wear the same to honor my ancestry.”
The Arbiter sighed. Astarte’s defense, though blatantly false, was airtight. Arresting her now would only give her ammunition to legally strike back. And with the recent backlash of the Deathworlder crack down the Arbiter could doom Judge’s career. It had been a celebrated move of the last chief, but the knock-on effects of it had resulted in several months of rioting, looting, and political discourse in the heart of the Union. The last chief was forced to step down and Judge took his place and was still trying to reverse the damages. Which was hard with all the precincts fighting him on it. Those officers had too many friends torn apart by Terran criminals to ever let that grudge go.
“Then you may leave the arm behind and be one your way.” The Arbiter ordered.
Astarte blinked, “the arm?”
The Arbiter pointed to the severed arm still within the pirate’s grasp “That is evidence in an on going investigation. LEAVE. IT. BEHIND” The Arbiter explained, growling out the last words slowly. Just because Astarte had likely saved the Arbiter’s life with some quick thinking didn’t erase the fact that she was a person of interest/suspect in the same case.
Astarte glanced down at the severed arm and blinked as if surprised she was still holding it. Then tossed it carelessly onto the ground. “All yours, make sure to check for bugs before plugging it in.”
“Bugs?”
“Computer viruses hidden in its OS. Thing could have all sorts of things hidden within.”
“And how do you know?”
“I don’t. It’s just the sort of thing I would do myself. Try loading it onto a separate server. Oh, and check for small explosives.”
“Danm Deathworlders” the Arbiter growled as they now considered the severed arm on the ground next to a small splatter of Astarte’s blood. She was right, Deathworlders were known for their tricks and traps. Humans especially. During one investigation a load of seized morphine from an illegal clinic had been stored next to an unstable chemical that reacted poorly to the jostling of the transport and destroyed the evidence in a fiery explosion.
Astarte chuckled “Glass stones Arbiter.”
“What?”
“Glass stones, it’s a human malaphor of sorts. I’ll leave the details for you to figure out. Good luck with tracking down Zera, I’d recommend starting with the prison records on Union Station Parox.” She said as she turned aways and strode off. Walking in the opposite direction of the arriving officers, half of which were missing their weapons or shields.
The Arbiter let out a sigh as she observed the most incompetent idoits she had ever seen strut onto the lot without a care in the universe.
“You called us Sir.” The lead Voral said.
The Arbiter took in a deep breath “Yes I did. Ten minutes ago.”
“It was a long walk.” The officer said defensively, no care for the Arbiters growing anger.
“Its only a few hundred standard meters. But that doesn’t matter I encountered an assassin in the midst of their crime. That’s their arm.”
The Voral looked panicked and began to look from side to side.
The Arbiter felt an involuntary eye twitch and clenched her fist. “The assassin is gone.”
The Voral relaxed “So you want us to secure the evidence?” he asked.
That had been the Arbiters plan, but now seeing them mill about aimlessly they changed their mind. “No, secure the area and stay out of CSI’s way. Understood?”
The officer looked offended. “Sir, its just an arm. We don’t need to wait around for CSI, one of my men can bag it right now.”
Patience wearing thin the Arbiter marched right into the Voral’s face. The fact the Officer loomed over her by two meters did little to diminish the Arbiter’s menacing aura. “AM. I. UNDERSTOOD?”
“Yes Sir.” The cowed Voral officer answered with a nervous buzz of his wings.
“Then go.”
Ten minutes later six medium shuttles from the CSI unit, and two small shuttles from the ADCU were on the scene of the lot and in the alley where the Arbiter had stumbled upon Astarte. Edict and Prosecutor began to jump along the rooftops, recreating the assassin’s movements and collecting more evidence.
The assassin’s arm, and the dried sample of Astarte’s blood was collected. As well as fragments of what looked to be a broken glass eye with a micro camera.
They lost the assassin’s trail after they ducked into the inner hull of the station and escaped across the pipes, wires, and support structure of Unity.
Thirty minutes after that they departed for the central precinct. The Arbiter within the darkened confines of the ADCU shuttle felt safe enough to take off the hood. Caleb and Bartolv did the same. They noticed her pensive mood and didn’t disturb her.
It wasn’t lost on her that Astarte knew exactly who this assassin was. And if she hadn’t left those pretty blatant clues about how to identify her then then Rachel would be trying to acquire a warrant to bring her in for questioning. But that still left her with a lot of questions.
And despite the answers she might get, she had the sinking feeling it wouldn’t be enough to see the whole picture. How big was this whole thing?
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The Arbiter had only just been cleared for light duty and decided to spend that time with the Officers in charge of watching the pirates Demon ship. They weren’t ADCU since those officers couldn’t be wasted on a simple stakeout. The Arbiter however had been assured the Officers in charge there were the best they had. But not two minutes within the stakeout tent the Arbiter had learned that the pirate Captain had slipped past the officers assigned to tail her. And more disturbingly that every pirate who left the Astaroth had slipped their tails with disdainful ease.
The utter lack of concern had further stoked their fury. According to the officer on duty every pirate that left eventually made a mess of something and stirred up a minor disturbance. And that only a few that left were unaccounted for.The complete lack of awareness for how shady and suspicious all that should have sounded baffled the Arbiter’s mind. They knew crime and violence didn’t come so naturally to other species as it did for the Arbiter’s human mind. But the failure to make such a basic connection that the pirates were creating distractions so that other pirates could do their work covertly, screamed at incompetence.
That led to the Arbiter learning that all the officers in charge of the overwatch operation were actually low level beat cops and file clerks. Looking into the system used to select these officers the Arbiter learned that they weren’t just incompetent, but so incompetent that the staggering number of negative reports had confused the filing system and had placed them into the highest bracket of trusted officers. The system was made to calculate negative values but couldn’t properly place such incompetent people into their proper bracket because there wasn’t a bracket appropriately low enough to place them into. So instead it simply went past the lowest level and placed them into the highest level.
And of course such poor officers couldn’t simply be fired because the officers workers union would make a fuss. Which meant the SS couldn’t replace these idiots with any slightly more intelligent sapients.
The bureaucratic idiocy was so infuriating that the Arbiter had lashed out at a nearby pole before they could think better of it. The pole snapped at the impact, fell over, and collapsed half the tent with it.
After that little outburst the Arbiter decided to take a walk and calm down. Only to stumble upon the missing pirate captain locked in a life-or-death battle with the very same assassin who had ambushed them just weeks before.
The Arbiter hadn’t been there for the start of the fight, but simple deduction was enough to reason that the assassin had likely initiated the conflict. They had mentioned Astarte’s name on the night of the attack. And the Pirate had no reason to seek out and attack the assassin.
During that fight The Arbiter had barely survived their encounter with the assassin. The assassin’s prosthetic modifications presented a gap in power that the Arbiter just couldn’t bridge. But despite fighting what should have been a one sided battle, the pirate was doing surprisingly well. In fact if the Arbiter was any judge, Astarte seemed to have a slight advantage.
Not in speed, power, or endurance. The assassin’s mechanical body was simply too powerful for a human to matchup. But in skill Astarte out matched the mechanical assassin.
Astarte dodged and weaved without effortless ease, getting past the assassin’s guard to strike at their, or her, mechanical body. If the assassin hadn’t been a machine then Astarte would have won by now, even with the gap in power.
Rachel felt slightly ashamed at her own poor showing against the assassin when compared to Astarte’s fight. The shame then quickly burned into anger as the Arbiter gripped the rifle at their side and pulled it out to try and shoot the assassin. Unlike the Arbiter had been that night, Astarte was wearing that ridiculous dark red armor and had a sword like she was some sort of space samurai. The Arbiter had done well that night, and their lack of superior weaponry had been their only flaw. One that had been amended with the addition of a more powerful pulse rifle.
They tried to line up a shot on the assassin that wouldn’t hit Astarte, when Astarte began to speak. “You wanna know the funny part. Greyson didn’t even care that you were gone.”
Wait, did these two share a past. The Arbiter guessed that old saying about birds of a feather was true. Who was Greyson? Some sort of man they had both known?
“Didn’t even question me about. Just said ‘Zera’s gone, now you will guard my back’” the pirate continued. “Then not even a week later I was second in command and got to sleep in his comfy bed.” The pirate gave her attacker a sloppy lascivious grin.
“And then you killed him like the deceptive whore you are!” the assassin spat, her attacks becoming sloppier with more openings.
Where these two quarreling over a man? The Arbiter felt bile rise into their throat. Two of the deadliest human women they had ever seen fighting over some man they had known. Pathetic. No man was worth that. Especially not whoever this Greyson bastard was given how quickly he had let the pirate into his bed after his first girlfriend disappeared.
Wait, Greyson, pirate, dead. Were they talking about the infamous human pirate, Byron Greyson? The one who had been a menace to the Femeri system, who was responsible for the disappearance of over thirty thousand humans and the deaths of many more? The one whose headless body had turned up one day aboard the drifting remains of the Black Saint? It couldn’t be, right?
But the rise of the Astaroth and Astarte had happened shortly before Greyson’s mysterious death. It seemed too coincidental.
“Of course I did, I refused to be the latest women he ruined and dumped into the gutter. Face it, your days were numbered. If it wasn’t me it would have been him.” The pirate said with a derisive sneer.
A bit callous and mercenary, but if they were discussing Greyson then likely not inaccurate.
The assassin however didn’t see that logic. “LIAR!” she screamed as she flew into a rage.
Then the Arbiter saw the reasoning behind Astarte’s taunts. This assassin was dangerously unhinged, and Astarte was using that to bait her into a trap.
The next sequence of attacks was too fast for the Arbiter to follow. A sword hilt to the face, followed by something launching out of the assassin’s arm. Then somehow Astarte had her other arm in her grip and flipped the assassin over a shoulder. With the assassin on the ground, Astarte quickly pressed one leg to their back, and with the arm in hand began to pull. The assassins sudden ultrasonic scream made the Arbiter vison darken at the edges, and maybe caused their ears to bleed a little.
Then the arm came out with a pop and the screaming stopped.
The pirate looked at the arm for a second, before lifting it above her head and swinging it down into the assassin’s head. The loud conk of metal on metal was enough to startle the Arbiter out of her awe and terror.
The barrel of their pulse cannon lifted up with Astarte centered in its sight “FREEZE!” the Arbiter roared with all their might.
Astarte paused mid swing, looked towards the Arbiter, and then raised both of her hands above her head. As well as the assassins severed arm. “It was self defense.” The pirate said quickly.
The Arbiter could have sworn they saw a flash of red. But it happened so fast that they weren’t sure if it was really there. And if it was then why would the pirates eye flash red?
The eye crossed by a gruesome scar. Did the pirate have a glass color changing eye?
No, her eyes were both clearly moving around and focusing on things like they should. Could it be cybernetic? Those were supposed to be impossible, too complicated to properly miniaturize with current technology.
It was something to investigate.
The Arbiter had been so focused on Astarte that they hadn’t been watching the assassin close enough. In a movement the Arbiter hadn’t seen the assassin threw Astarte off her back before popping up to her feet. Astarte went down onto the ground and the assassin lurched forward to attack her downed foe. But before she could reach the pirate three quick blasts from the Arbiters rifle stopped her in her tracks.
One had winged her side, another went wide. But the third had caught her right where a liver should have been. The assassin stuttered, but wasn’t dead. They dodged the next shot by ducking and then the second by somehow leaping ten meters into the air and onto a window seal. The assassin looked down on the two women and was clearly judging their chances at victory. But with an, admittable impressive, one-handed springlike flip Astarte was back on her feet, sword ready for another round.
The assassin’s strange mechanical face scowled before another impossible jump sent her over a nearby building and out of sight.
The Arbiter relaxed once the assassin was gone, but Astarte didn’t. The pirate turned, grabbed the Arbiters gloved hand, and pulled her into a jog down the open alleyway. “Come on, there’s an open lot nearby. Can’t jump us from there.” She said without looking back as she dragged the Arbiter along.
For a stunned few seconds Rachel stared at the strong hand grasping her own smaller one. But then the Arbiter saw the logic in Astarte’s worry and forced their hand to release the pirate and ran alongside her.
A few times the Arbiter had noticed a thin humanoid shadow leap between the buildings above them, but a quick turn down an alley from Astarte had them moving away from the incoming ambush from the assassin chasing them via roof tops. In no time at all they made it to an open loading dock for a nearby warehouse. Astarte ran into its center and scanned the roof tops, the Arbiter followed suit.
The Arbiter and the Pirate stood back to back, each searching for any signs of the mutual foe.
“There!” Astarte shouted while pointing her finger at a roof top.
The Arbiter stared up, but couldn’t see anything. But following the pirate’s direction they raised their rifle and shot at the edge of the building Astarte had pointed at. The blasts landed and then the crouched figure of the assassin rose up and backed away.
How had the pirate seen her? The Arbiter spared her a glance and saw a second flash of red before the pirate shifted her head.
“You should call for backup.” The pirate stated while still scanning the roof tops.
“To arrest the assassin?” the Arbiter asked before they could think better of it.
Astarte snorted. “Wouldn’t trust any SS to arrest a dead log, let alone Zera. But more witnesses might scare her off.”
Two things stood out in that statement, the assassin’s apparent name, and “SS, is that supposed to be short for station security?”
“Schutzstaffel actually, its just a strange coincidence they line up” the Pirate joked wryly.
The Arbiter scowled “You think the Station security are like the Nazi’s?” The Arbiter’s lessons about the various evil factions during Earths history had left her with nightmares for years. Crucifixion, death by a thousand cuts, blood eagles, and the like had disturbed their six-year-old mind. Their lessons had spent weeks on all the evils humanity inflicted upon each other, all the way until First contact.
“If the kinky boot fits.” Astarte said while examining the Arbiter’s own black boots.
The Arbiter swished their cloak to hide their boots, and the pirates gaze snapped back up to the rooftops. The Arbiter made the call, and the idiots in charge of the tent said they would need a few minutes to ‘locate’ their rifles and arm shields. Why they had to be located in the first place confused the Arbiter? They couldn’t be so incompetent as to not know where their weapons were, right?”
Tense minutes past before Astarte let out a sigh of relief. “I think she gave up.” she then shot the Arbiter an accusing glare “I almost had the bitch. If you hadn’t interfered we wouldn’t have to worry about her coming back.”
"You expect me to stand by while you committed murder?” The Arbiter growled, now stepping back from the pirate and reaching for a set of cuffs.
The pirate frowned, then glanced up as if recalling a distant memory. “I… ugh felt my life was in imminent danger, and feared for my life while facing down a clearly aggressive and violent deathworlder with a weapon. I used whatever objects I could find at the time…I carry no weapons and was forced to use ceremonial objects in crude, and ugh…unusual ways for self defense. I did not think retreat was possible so I acted to end the threat” she said in a bland staccato rhythm of everyone reciting words from memory. Her words obviously citing several different laws pertaining to self-defense.
The Arbiter felt an eye twitch. “The law pertaining to Deathworlder assailants was not intended to include Deathworlder victims.” The Arbiter said slowly.
Astarte shrugged “Union vs. Trevor Philips established that the enforcement of the law was done by the letter of the law, not the spirit. By that ruling and precedent I acted reasonably and was within my rights for self-defense. Any attempt to detain me would result in punitive measures from my legal representation.”
In all their time on the ADCU the Arbiter had never encountered a criminal so well versed in the intricacies of Union law. Some loop holes were well known, and easy for Officers to circumvent in order to attain an arrest. But the Arbiter hadn’t encountered something like this before.
The Arbiter looked down and noticed the sword she still held, red blood from the pirate running down its blade. “So that sword isn’t a weapon?” The Arbiter asked pointedly.
The feline smile that covered Astarte’s face sent shivers up their spine. “My dear officer, as you can notice I am of half Japanese heritage, a hafu if you will. I am dressing in the traditional fashions of my people. The armor, the katana, and the wakizashi are all hallmarks of the samurai I am descended from. None of these are worn for anything beyond cultural heritage. And for that matter, my crew wear the same to honor my ancestry.”
The Arbiter sighed. Astarte’s defense, though blatantly false, was airtight. Arresting her now would only give her ammunition to legally strike back. And with the recent backlash of the Deathworlder crack down the Arbiter could doom Judge’s career. It had been a celebrated move of the last chief, but the knock-on effects of it had resulted in several months of rioting, looting, and political discourse in the heart of the Union. The last chief was forced to step down and Judge took his place and was still trying to reverse the damages. Which was hard with all the precincts fighting him on it. Those officers had too many friends torn apart by Terran criminals to ever let that grudge go.
“Then you may leave the arm behind and be one your way.” The Arbiter ordered.
Astarte blinked, “the arm?”
The Arbiter pointed to the severed arm still within the pirate’s grasp “That is evidence in an on going investigation. LEAVE. IT. BEHIND” The Arbiter explained, growling out the last words slowly. Just because Astarte had likely saved the Arbiter’s life with some quick thinking didn’t erase the fact that she was a person of interest/suspect in the same case.
Astarte glanced down at the severed arm and blinked as if surprised she was still holding it. Then tossed it carelessly onto the ground. “All yours, make sure to check for bugs before plugging it in.”
“Bugs?”
“Computer viruses hidden in its OS. Thing could have all sorts of things hidden within.”
“And how do you know?”
“I don’t. It’s just the sort of thing I would do myself. Try loading it onto a separate server. Oh, and check for small explosives.”
“Danm Deathworlders” the Arbiter growled as they now considered the severed arm on the ground next to a small splatter of Astarte’s blood. She was right, Deathworlders were known for their tricks and traps. Humans especially. During one investigation a load of seized morphine from an illegal clinic had been stored next to an unstable chemical that reacted poorly to the jostling of the transport and destroyed the evidence in a fiery explosion.
Astarte chuckled “Glass stones Arbiter.”
“What?”
“Glass stones, it’s a human malaphor of sorts. I’ll leave the details for you to figure out. Good luck with tracking down Zera, I’d recommend starting with the prison records on Union Station Parox.” She said as she turned aways and strode off. Walking in the opposite direction of the arriving officers, half of which were missing their weapons or shields.
The Arbiter let out a sigh as she observed the most incompetent idoits she had ever seen strut onto the lot without a care in the universe.
“You called us Sir.” The lead Voral said.
The Arbiter took in a deep breath “Yes I did. Ten minutes ago.”
“It was a long walk.” The officer said defensively, no care for the Arbiters growing anger.
“Its only a few hundred standard meters. But that doesn’t matter I encountered an assassin in the midst of their crime. That’s their arm.”
The Voral looked panicked and began to look from side to side.
The Arbiter felt an involuntary eye twitch and clenched her fist. “The assassin is gone.”
The Voral relaxed “So you want us to secure the evidence?” he asked.
That had been the Arbiters plan, but now seeing them mill about aimlessly they changed their mind. “No, secure the area and stay out of CSI’s way. Understood?”
The officer looked offended. “Sir, its just an arm. We don’t need to wait around for CSI, one of my men can bag it right now.”
Patience wearing thin the Arbiter marched right into the Voral’s face. The fact the Officer loomed over her by two meters did little to diminish the Arbiter’s menacing aura. “AM. I. UNDERSTOOD?”
“Yes Sir.” The cowed Voral officer answered with a nervous buzz of his wings.
“Then go.”
Ten minutes later six medium shuttles from the CSI unit, and two small shuttles from the ADCU were on the scene of the lot and in the alley where the Arbiter had stumbled upon Astarte. Edict and Prosecutor began to jump along the rooftops, recreating the assassin’s movements and collecting more evidence.
The assassin’s arm, and the dried sample of Astarte’s blood was collected. As well as fragments of what looked to be a broken glass eye with a micro camera.
They lost the assassin’s trail after they ducked into the inner hull of the station and escaped across the pipes, wires, and support structure of Unity.
Thirty minutes after that they departed for the central precinct. The Arbiter within the darkened confines of the ADCU shuttle felt safe enough to take off the hood. Caleb and Bartolv did the same. They noticed her pensive mood and didn’t disturb her.
It wasn’t lost on her that Astarte knew exactly who this assassin was. And if she hadn’t left those pretty blatant clues about how to identify her then then Rachel would be trying to acquire a warrant to bring her in for questioning. But that still left her with a lot of questions.
And despite the answers she might get, she had the sinking feeling it wouldn’t be enough to see the whole picture. How big was this whole thing?
Previous/Patreon/Next
2023.06.09 06:00 bad_apricot IPF World Classic Open Powerlifting Championships in Malta: Preview and discussion post
What is IPF Classic Worlds?
The International Powerlifting Federation (IPF) is the largest international drug tested fed. “Classic” means the lifters can wear a belt and knee sleeves, but not knee wraps (or bench shirts, deadlift suits, etc). As with all standard powerlifting meets, the lifter with the best total (their best squat + best bench + best deadlift for the day) within each weight class wins.
When is it?
June 11-18
How do I watch? The IPF live stream page.
Find the full schedule here (times listed in Central European Summer Time), and the full roster and nominating totals here (men/women). Note that all the lifters discussed below will be in the “A” group for their weight class.
Story lines to watch
Is Karlina Tongotea the new queen of the -76s?
Karlina Tongotea (New Zealand) came roaring into the international spotlight last fall when she totaled 600 kilos at the Commonwealth Games, and won the hyped “battle of the 76s” at Sheffield 2023, despite missing several lifts. Here she faces off again against reigning World Champ Jessica Buettner (Canada) and Equipped Champ (and the brief holder of the -76 total world record, until Karlina broke it) Agata Sitko (Poland). Karlina comes into this as the favorite; winning cements her as the premier -76 kilo raw lifter.
Check out the epic showdown between Agata and Jess at last year’s IFP Worlds here.
The -63s, and the return of Carola Garra
Lya Bavoil (France) was the undisputed -63, but failed to make weight for the 2022 IFP Worlds. This opened the door for a fierce competition that ended in a three-way tie for best total, with Meghan Scanlon (USA) winning on bodyweight. With Bavoil moving up to the -69s, the favorite to win is Carola Garra (Italy), with Chiara Bernardi (Italy) and Scanlon likely fighting for silver. Garra last competed in Classic Worlds in 2019, where she won gold. Since then she's mostly competed in equipped, where she has been equally successful.
Bonus: Check out this podcast interview with Scanlon, where she talks about coming back to elite level powerlifting after giving birth to twins.
Does Bonica Brown have a real challenger?
Bonica Brown (USA) has been the strongest 84+ for years. At Sheffield in March she broke the squat world record and total world record, and all of her lifts looked easy. However, Belgian lifter Sonita Mulah has been putting up monster gym numbers. She’s also got a big deadlift, so if things are close she has the advantage in that she’ll likely deadlift last. Brittany Schlater (Canada) is also worth keeping an eye on.
Evie vs Noemie: The Rematch
Evie Corrigan (New Zealand) shocked everyone by cutting down a weight class to the -52s for Sheffield, where she shocked (almost) everyone and won the whole competition as a wildcard nomination. However, Noemie Allabert (France) was just a few kilos behind her. The battle is going to be intense and could easily come down to the last deadlift.
The -93s
The men’s -93 class is absolutely stacked, and paired with the women’s -76s last year was one of the most fun sessions to watch. Even though last year’s champ Chance Mitchell (USA) won’t be competing, Jonathan Cayco (USA), Gustav Hedlund (Sweden), Emil Krastev (Bulgaria) and Gavin Adin (USA) are all legitimate contenders for gold (and would be even if Chance was there). Cayco put on a masterclass at Sheffield, coming in second, while Adin had a monster world record squat attempt that the jury ultimately declared a bad lift on depth (he placed third overall). Expect Adin to nail the squat record this time.
Highlights from last year's showdown here.
This event is huge, so there are a ton of great lifters and awesome match ups I didn't have space to talk about. Use this thread to talk about what you're hyped for, discuss the competition, and ask questions.
submitted by bad_apricot to xxfitness [link] [comments]
The International Powerlifting Federation (IPF) is the largest international drug tested fed. “Classic” means the lifters can wear a belt and knee sleeves, but not knee wraps (or bench shirts, deadlift suits, etc). As with all standard powerlifting meets, the lifter with the best total (their best squat + best bench + best deadlift for the day) within each weight class wins.
When is it?
June 11-18
How do I watch? The IPF live stream page.
Find the full schedule here (times listed in Central European Summer Time), and the full roster and nominating totals here (men/women). Note that all the lifters discussed below will be in the “A” group for their weight class.
Story lines to watch
Is Karlina Tongotea the new queen of the -76s?
Karlina Tongotea (New Zealand) came roaring into the international spotlight last fall when she totaled 600 kilos at the Commonwealth Games, and won the hyped “battle of the 76s” at Sheffield 2023, despite missing several lifts. Here she faces off again against reigning World Champ Jessica Buettner (Canada) and Equipped Champ (and the brief holder of the -76 total world record, until Karlina broke it) Agata Sitko (Poland). Karlina comes into this as the favorite; winning cements her as the premier -76 kilo raw lifter.
Check out the epic showdown between Agata and Jess at last year’s IFP Worlds here.
The -63s, and the return of Carola Garra
Lya Bavoil (France) was the undisputed -63, but failed to make weight for the 2022 IFP Worlds. This opened the door for a fierce competition that ended in a three-way tie for best total, with Meghan Scanlon (USA) winning on bodyweight. With Bavoil moving up to the -69s, the favorite to win is Carola Garra (Italy), with Chiara Bernardi (Italy) and Scanlon likely fighting for silver. Garra last competed in Classic Worlds in 2019, where she won gold. Since then she's mostly competed in equipped, where she has been equally successful.
Bonus: Check out this podcast interview with Scanlon, where she talks about coming back to elite level powerlifting after giving birth to twins.
Does Bonica Brown have a real challenger?
Bonica Brown (USA) has been the strongest 84+ for years. At Sheffield in March she broke the squat world record and total world record, and all of her lifts looked easy. However, Belgian lifter Sonita Mulah has been putting up monster gym numbers. She’s also got a big deadlift, so if things are close she has the advantage in that she’ll likely deadlift last. Brittany Schlater (Canada) is also worth keeping an eye on.
Evie vs Noemie: The Rematch
Evie Corrigan (New Zealand) shocked everyone by cutting down a weight class to the -52s for Sheffield, where she shocked (almost) everyone and won the whole competition as a wildcard nomination. However, Noemie Allabert (France) was just a few kilos behind her. The battle is going to be intense and could easily come down to the last deadlift.
The -93s
The men’s -93 class is absolutely stacked, and paired with the women’s -76s last year was one of the most fun sessions to watch. Even though last year’s champ Chance Mitchell (USA) won’t be competing, Jonathan Cayco (USA), Gustav Hedlund (Sweden), Emil Krastev (Bulgaria) and Gavin Adin (USA) are all legitimate contenders for gold (and would be even if Chance was there). Cayco put on a masterclass at Sheffield, coming in second, while Adin had a monster world record squat attempt that the jury ultimately declared a bad lift on depth (he placed third overall). Expect Adin to nail the squat record this time.
Highlights from last year's showdown here.
This event is huge, so there are a ton of great lifters and awesome match ups I didn't have space to talk about. Use this thread to talk about what you're hyped for, discuss the competition, and ask questions.
2023.06.09 03:53 cbvv1992 🔥50% Off Code – $12.49 Leather Journal Travel Writing Notebook For Men Handmade Leather Bound Personal Organizer (Brown)
 | submitted by cbvv1992 to DealAndSale [link] [comments] |
2023.06.09 03:45 lin_seed The Seven Items Of A Teacher
Hey zen, it is good to be making OPs again, ngl.
And thank you very much for all the engagement on my last post. It felt very good to get some content up, and bring some conversation to the table after an extended absence. (Now hopefully Reddit can find some solution for this 3rd party app kerfuffle. I’m not sure I’m ready for tech platform Ragnarok just yet–when there’s so much zen to study these days!)
Anyway, in my previous post, I mentioned that I was splitting my look at the case (BCR 15) into two posts. I feel like it was worth doing in this case—partially because I often feel that we never look at the actual BCR in this forum, because it makes for such long OPs to try and grapple with Yuanwu's entire commentary. (And I do personally find Zen Master Yuanwu's commentary to be a key component of the book that Zen Master Yuanwu wrote for us, and am more than a little leary of the chopping-block treatment that it often receives in this forum.)
Anyway, this two part post is an attemp to address this issue. There were too many themes, or too much that was worth looking at, to fit it all in one post. "Why not just cut off at about the point where I used to fall asleep while reading BCR cases?" the thought suddenly occurred to me. "That would seem to make a lot of sense, if that's what my original reading experiences themselves were like!"
(Et voilá—the prototype BCR two-parter is born in a golden flash! ⚡️)
This way all of you who read the first post have already had time to sleep on it–a mechanism and process I do not find at all trivial when it comes to reading and literary analysis.
Anyway, here is part II. I filmed a new video for it, in which I read and look at the central part of the commentary, the part that caught my.eye for this go around—but first, let's look at the text.
Oh wait, also—I have some potentially bad news. That moose and calf I ran into the other day and told you about? My gardening teacher just told me that he heard a brown bear had taken a moose calf up on our hill somewhere. Likely hers, he thought. (She resides in and is very active in our corner of the neighborhood.) This is just awful to hear. (in more ways than one. Hearing a brown bear kill a moose calf is bar none the worst thing one can hear that I have ever heard. Seriously it is the worst thing you can hear.)
I hope it was a different moose. I just looked her in the eye like a week ago. It's natural...but it is very unpleasant to hear about moose calfs being taken and / or see the aftereffect (bereaved moose). It's pretty savage out here, sadly. I'm not sure if it was her, and I won't know until I get eyes on her again, but just a heads up that that particular moose, who was so instrumental to the video from last week and the experience I related, might have suffered something truly awful. Hopefully not. Hopefully I see her calf with her, and it turns out to be a misplaced rumor that's really about an entirely different moose. I'll be sure to let ya'll know when I find out.
(Sorry if that seemed discursive, but that moose did star in some Zen content and conversation in a way, and if she suffered a tragedy I felt it was worth sharing.)
Anyway, now to the text.
If you remember, we left off after the verse. Afterward, Yuanwu spends some time blowing hot air up Hsou Tou's skirt, and then has this to say about Yun Men:
The image "stretching out in the tiger's mouth" is pretty cool, as is this description of just how far they will go for you. Makes "going back with them" sound supremely worth it, does it not?
And now for some fun literary content. I love it when Yuanwu does shit like this!
You know it's gonna be good when a Zen Master heads to vulture peak on spirit mountain. (Seriously. As a literati, my literary senses activate like the AI in Ironman's suit everytime Vulture Peak is mentioned.) I'm glad Cleary included the note about phoenix feathers...he transmits an awful lot of information to readers of the book, that's for sure. As the western economy continues to collapse, there will likely be millions and millions of more people who actually have the time to read again—and I certainly think Cleary is well positioned to get the Zen Masters into a lot of those eyes.
I’ve already released dozens of his books into the wild, but if I get the opportunity at some point I’d like to realize an operation to distribute them to all the small towns in Alaska. (Take that zenners—you have to spend decades arguing publicly on the internet to get Zen texts out there—while we slacker hermits can cover an entire state / century with a couple thousand bucks and one or two days on Amazon—now that is some efficiency!)
Oh gosh. Now here I am blowing hot air up a dead guy's skirt. How embarrassing. Thanks Yuanwu—apparently your literary fawning is transmissable through time and space!
That poem was something else, though. This line?
I cannot stress enough what a good poem this is. Seriously—Yuanwu is not a fucking joke. This was a masterful selection, in my opinion. I’m not sure how many zen readers are reading commentary like this, by the time they are this far into it—perhaps they are more focused on doctrine and ideas like many seem to be in zen posts and comments—but does anyone else receive the absolute literary flooring that is on offer here? Like a sword run straight down through the top of your head, piercing your right eye, and poking out beneath your jaw?
I guess what I’m saying is that, sometimes, it is hard to have the conversation with Yuanwu that I want to have with him as a Zen literati. (Oops…did that sproing a few sockets out there in readerland? “Zen literari”? “Literati who studies Zen” just sounds so clunky! Don’t panic—I won’t let it go to my head.) Thankfully, zen exists, which has provided me with a venue where I actually can have that conversation with Yuanwu, as easy as pie.
And this is one of those times I want to point at what a rich and detailed object Yuanwu has in fact handed us through the centuries, like a jade goldfish we can swallow, slip into our ear, entertain in our fishbowls—or even flush down our toilet! (For those of us lucky enough to have indoor plumbing, anyway. The fate of deep rural goldfish is a far grimmer one, this hermit can personally assure you.)
But anyway, just look at that poem Yuanwu snuck us, zennists. A deft stroke. Highly enjoyable. Like a phoenix feather floating on a pond.
And gosh I just love that metaphor: the “phoenix feather” meaning a “successor”. Neat-O Mosquito! (Linseed: it’s mosquito season and I just got back from duck taping the holes in my windows.)
Okay, and so the end of Yuanwu’s commentary is just so gosh darned good that I wanted to read it to you myself. So the video part of the content starts here. The part that grabs me about this selection is the qualities and the description of the Teacher (based on seeing Yun Men in the case) that both Yuanwu and Cleary lay out for us together, hand in hand, right here in this book. So that’s the bit to pay attention to—or at least it’s the bit that I was really paying attention to.
First, I do tell a story, one about two hermits, and how I learned I could pilfer from another hermit in my neighborhood using nothing but chopsticks. And not just run-of-the-mill theivery, either—a real heist! I was talkkng to Mr Algood about “pilferers who pilfer from pillferers who pilfer” the ofher day, and mentioned that it was the “best hermit past time.” This is also the same truth that underlies most (if not all) literary work. Mr Algood said: “If you need it, it’s just trading,” which is certainly a valid take. My response, offered to him now, is: “And if they’re dead—that’s a waiver!”
So the little story I tell is a comment on Yuanwu / Hsou Tou, Thomas and JC Cleary—and even the practice of all of us here (or some of us) strudying Zen together in this literary medium otherwise known as “r zen”.
But then I get to the important stuff. The stuff I am interested in looking at. The Seven Items Of A Teacher.
The Tyrannosaur & The GOAT.
Ain't those seven items something, though? Don't they give us something to ponder?
Guess which of the seven is my favorite?
The freedom to appear and disappear.
Always has been.
Thanks for reading!
(And let’s hope that moose calf is okay.)
—Linseed
🫎
submitted by lin_seed to zen [link] [comments]
And thank you very much for all the engagement on my last post. It felt very good to get some content up, and bring some conversation to the table after an extended absence. (Now hopefully Reddit can find some solution for this 3rd party app kerfuffle. I’m not sure I’m ready for tech platform Ragnarok just yet–when there’s so much zen to study these days!)
Anyway, in my previous post, I mentioned that I was splitting my look at the case (BCR 15) into two posts. I feel like it was worth doing in this case—partially because I often feel that we never look at the actual BCR in this forum, because it makes for such long OPs to try and grapple with Yuanwu's entire commentary. (And I do personally find Zen Master Yuanwu's commentary to be a key component of the book that Zen Master Yuanwu wrote for us, and am more than a little leary of the chopping-block treatment that it often receives in this forum.)
Anyway, this two part post is an attemp to address this issue. There were too many themes, or too much that was worth looking at, to fit it all in one post. "Why not just cut off at about the point where I used to fall asleep while reading BCR cases?" the thought suddenly occurred to me. "That would seem to make a lot of sense, if that's what my original reading experiences themselves were like!"
(Et voilá—the prototype BCR two-parter is born in a golden flash! ⚡️)
This way all of you who read the first post have already had time to sleep on it–a mechanism and process I do not find at all trivial when it comes to reading and literary analysis.
Anyway, here is part II. I filmed a new video for it, in which I read and look at the central part of the commentary, the part that caught my.eye for this go around—but first, let's look at the text.
Oh wait, also—I have some potentially bad news. That moose and calf I ran into the other day and told you about? My gardening teacher just told me that he heard a brown bear had taken a moose calf up on our hill somewhere. Likely hers, he thought. (She resides in and is very active in our corner of the neighborhood.) This is just awful to hear. (in more ways than one. Hearing a brown bear kill a moose calf is bar none the worst thing one can hear that I have ever heard. Seriously it is the worst thing you can hear.)
I hope it was a different moose. I just looked her in the eye like a week ago. It's natural...but it is very unpleasant to hear about moose calfs being taken and / or see the aftereffect (bereaved moose). It's pretty savage out here, sadly. I'm not sure if it was her, and I won't know until I get eyes on her again, but just a heads up that that particular moose, who was so instrumental to the video from last week and the experience I related, might have suffered something truly awful. Hopefully not. Hopefully I see her calf with her, and it turns out to be a misplaced rumor that's really about an entirely different moose. I'll be sure to let ya'll know when I find out.
(Sorry if that seemed discursive, but that moose did star in some Zen content and conversation in a way, and if she suffered a tragedy I felt it was worth sharing.)
Anyway, now to the text.
If you remember, we left off after the verse. Afterward, Yuanwu spends some time blowing hot air up Hsou Tou's skirt, and then has this to say about Yun Men:
If Yun Men were not someone whose whole capacity had penetrated through to liberation, how could he die with you and be born with you? Why can he do this? Because he is free from the many leaking points of gain and loss, of is and is not.Ngl, being free from gain and loss sounds pretty nifty. I wonder if Yuanwu has more to say about these "leaking points"–if so, that seems like it could be pretty useful.
Thus Tung Shan said, “If you would judge whether one going beyond is genuine or false, there are three kinds of leakage: emotional leakage, leakage of views, and verbal leakage. If there is leakage of views, the intellect does not stir from its fixed position and falls into the poisonous sea. If feelings leak, knowing always turns towards and against, and one’s view is biased. Verbal leakage embodies the marvel but loses the fundamental; the intellect confuses beginning and end. You should know these three leaks for yourself.These leakage points really caught my eye. I spent quite a bit of time contemplating them and looking at them myself and for them in myself. They make a lot of sense to me. Don't they make sense, though? I also find the term "leakage point" very useful, because it allows one to see these phenomena in a practical way, as something real and observable but also simple, grapple-able, addressable. Yuanwu? A fella that could write!
There are also three mysteries; the mystery within the essence, the mystery within the phrase, and the mystery within the mystery.b When the Ancients came into this realm, their whole capacity was fully used: if you happened to be born, they would be born together with you; if you happened to die, they would die with you. They stretched out their bodies in the tiger’s mouth; letting go their hands and feet, they would follow your lead for a thousand miles, for ten thousand miles. Why? You must go back with them to get this one realization before you’ll understand.I like it that he mentions the mysteries, then doesn't try to explain them! More about the Ancients being "born with you and dying with you"—honestly I think this is a very interesting subject these days, and I'm already considering more content on the subject. Anyone else find this an interesting conversation? To me it seens to be highly relevant at the moment.
The image "stretching out in the tiger's mouth" is pretty cool, as is this description of just how far they will go for you. Makes "going back with them" sound supremely worth it, does it not?
And now for some fun literary content. I love it when Yuanwu does shit like this!
As for “Eighty-four thousand disciples of Buddha were not phoenix feathers,” this is the assembly of eighty-four thousand holy people on Vulture Peak of Spirit Mountain—they were not phoenix feathers.c The Southern History relates that in Sung times (420–479) there lived Hsieh Ch’ao-tsung (“surpassing his clan”), a man of Yang Hsia in Ch’en prefecture, the son of Hsieh Feng (“phoenix”). He had studied widely and his literary talent was superlative. At court there was no one to equal him; his contemporaries considered him unique. Since he was skilled in the written word, he served as permanent attendant at the capital. For the funeral ceremonies of the king’s mother Yinshu, Ch’ao-tsung composed a eulogy and presented it at court. Emperor Wu saw what he had written and praised him highly, saying, “Ch’ao-tsung does indeed have phoenix feathers!”Translator's Note:
An old poem says,
Audiences over, the incense smoke fills his billowing sleeves;
In the perfection of a poem, the perfect jewel lies in the stroke of his brushtip.
If you want to know the excellence of the hereditary managers of Imperial decrees,
On the pond right now there’s a phoenix feather floating.
c Phoenix feather is a metaphor for someone of outstanding talent, and also for a worthy successor.The Blue Cliff Record Thomas Cleary & J.C. Cleary
You know it's gonna be good when a Zen Master heads to vulture peak on spirit mountain. (Seriously. As a literati, my literary senses activate like the AI in Ironman's suit everytime Vulture Peak is mentioned.) I'm glad Cleary included the note about phoenix feathers...he transmits an awful lot of information to readers of the book, that's for sure. As the western economy continues to collapse, there will likely be millions and millions of more people who actually have the time to read again—and I certainly think Cleary is well positioned to get the Zen Masters into a lot of those eyes.
I’ve already released dozens of his books into the wild, but if I get the opportunity at some point I’d like to realize an operation to distribute them to all the small towns in Alaska. (Take that zenners—you have to spend decades arguing publicly on the internet to get Zen texts out there—while we slacker hermits can cover an entire state / century with a couple thousand bucks and one or two days on Amazon—now that is some efficiency!)
Oh gosh. Now here I am blowing hot air up a dead guy's skirt. How embarrassing. Thanks Yuanwu—apparently your literary fawning is transmissable through time and space!
That poem was something else, though. This line?
If you want to know the excellence of the hereditary managers of Imperial decrees,Literally out of this world!
I cannot stress enough what a good poem this is. Seriously—Yuanwu is not a fucking joke. This was a masterful selection, in my opinion. I’m not sure how many zen readers are reading commentary like this, by the time they are this far into it—perhaps they are more focused on doctrine and ideas like many seem to be in zen posts and comments—but does anyone else receive the absolute literary flooring that is on offer here? Like a sword run straight down through the top of your head, piercing your right eye, and poking out beneath your jaw?
I guess what I’m saying is that, sometimes, it is hard to have the conversation with Yuanwu that I want to have with him as a Zen literati. (Oops…did that sproing a few sockets out there in readerland? “Zen literari”? “Literati who studies Zen” just sounds so clunky! Don’t panic—I won’t let it go to my head.) Thankfully, zen exists, which has provided me with a venue where I actually can have that conversation with Yuanwu, as easy as pie.
And this is one of those times I want to point at what a rich and detailed object Yuanwu has in fact handed us through the centuries, like a jade goldfish we can swallow, slip into our ear, entertain in our fishbowls—or even flush down our toilet! (For those of us lucky enough to have indoor plumbing, anyway. The fate of deep rural goldfish is a far grimmer one, this hermit can personally assure you.)
But anyway, just look at that poem Yuanwu snuck us, zennists. A deft stroke. Highly enjoyable. Like a phoenix feather floating on a pond.
And gosh I just love that metaphor: the “phoenix feather” meaning a “successor”. Neat-O Mosquito! (Linseed: it’s mosquito season and I just got back from duck taping the holes in my windows.)
Okay, and so the end of Yuanwu’s commentary is just so gosh darned good that I wanted to read it to you myself. So the video part of the content starts here. The part that grabs me about this selection is the qualities and the description of the Teacher (based on seeing Yun Men in the case) that both Yuanwu and Cleary lay out for us together, hand in hand, right here in this book. So that’s the bit to pay attention to—or at least it’s the bit that I was really paying attention to.
First, I do tell a story, one about two hermits, and how I learned I could pilfer from another hermit in my neighborhood using nothing but chopsticks. And not just run-of-the-mill theivery, either—a real heist! I was talkkng to Mr Algood about “pilferers who pilfer from pillferers who pilfer” the ofher day, and mentioned that it was the “best hermit past time.” This is also the same truth that underlies most (if not all) literary work. Mr Algood said: “If you need it, it’s just trading,” which is certainly a valid take. My response, offered to him now, is: “And if they’re dead—that’s a waiver!”
So the little story I tell is a comment on Yuanwu / Hsou Tou, Thomas and JC Cleary—and even the practice of all of us here (or some of us) strudying Zen together in this literary medium otherwise known as “r zen”.
But then I get to the important stuff. The stuff I am interested in looking at. The Seven Items Of A Teacher.
The Tyrannosaur & The GOAT.
Ain't those seven items something, though? Don't they give us something to ponder?
Guess which of the seven is my favorite?
The freedom to appear and disappear.
Always has been.
Thanks for reading!
(And let’s hope that moose calf is okay.)
—Linseed
🫎
2023.06.09 03:41 MaleJewels 8 Clothing Tricks Most Guys Don't Know
Introduction: When it comes to fashion, everyone could use a few tricks up their sleeve to enhance their style game. While women have long been associated with having a deep understanding of fashion and clothing tricks, it's time to debunk the myth that men are clueless in this department. With a little knowledge and creativity, guys can elevate their personal style and make a lasting impression. In this blog post, we will unveil eight clothing tricks that most guys don't know, providing practical tips to help men effortlessly level up their fashion game.
1. Tailoring is the Key to a Perfect Fit:
One of the most underrated clothing tricks for men is the power of tailoring. Off-the-rack clothing rarely fits perfectly, but a few alterations can make a significant difference. Find a good tailor who can adjust the fit of your shirts, trousers, and jackets to match your body shape. A well-tailored garment instantly enhances your overall appearance, giving you a polished and sophisticated look.
2. Invest in Versatile Basics:
Building a stylish wardrobe starts with investing in versatile basics. These are timeless pieces that can be mixed and matched with different outfits to create various looks. Essential items like a crisp white shirt, a well-fitted pair of jeans, a navy blazer, and a classic black or brown leather belt can serve as the foundation for numerous stylish ensembles.
3. Master the Art of Layering:
Layering is a simple yet effective way to add depth and dimension to your outfits. Experiment with different combinations of shirts, sweaters, jackets, and accessories to create stylish layered looks. Layering not only provides extra warmth during colder months but also adds visual interest and complexity to your overall appearance.
4. Pay Attention to Proportions:
Understanding proportions is vital for creating a balanced and flattering look. Consider your body shape and height when selecting clothing items. If you're on the shorter side, opt for slim-fit trousers and shorter jackets to create the illusion of height. On the other hand, if you're tall, go for wider lapels and longer jackets to maintain the right proportions.
5. Accessorize Thoughtfully:
Accessories are an often overlooked aspect of men's fashion. A well-chosen accessory can elevate even the simplest outfit. Experiment with items like watches, ties, pocket squares, bracelets, and statement belts to add a touch of personality to your overall look. However, it's crucial to strike a balance and not overdo it. Choose one or two accessories that complement your outfit without overwhelming it.
6. Embrace Colors and Patterns:
Don't be afraid to incorporate colors and patterns into your wardrobe. Many men tend to stick to neutral colors, but adding pops of color can make a significant difference. Experiment with different shades and patterns to add vibrancy and interest to your outfits. Start with subtle patterns like checks or stripes and gradually incorporate bolder choices into your wardrobe.
7. Pay Attention to Grooming:
No matter how stylish your clothing is, neglecting grooming can undermine your overall look. Pay attention to details such as well-maintained facial hair, neatly trimmed nails, and polished shoes. Regular grooming routines and cleanliness are essential for presenting a well-put-together appearance.
8. Confidence is Key:
Perhaps the most important trick of all is to wear your clothes with confidence. No matter how fashionable your attire may be, if you lack confidence, it will not make the impact it deserves. Stand tall, embrace your personal style, and exude confidence in your clothing choices. When you feel good in what you're wearing, it radiates through your body language and leaves a lasting impression on others.
Conclusion: By implementing these eight clothing tricks, you can transform your style and present yourself as a fashionable and confident individual. Remember, fashion is a form of self-expression, and with a little knowledge and experimentation, you can develop a unique style that reflects your personality. So, gentlemen, it's time to embrace these tips, step up your fashion game, and make a statement wherever you go!
submitted by MaleJewels to u/MaleJewels [link] [comments]
1. Tailoring is the Key to a Perfect Fit:
One of the most underrated clothing tricks for men is the power of tailoring. Off-the-rack clothing rarely fits perfectly, but a few alterations can make a significant difference. Find a good tailor who can adjust the fit of your shirts, trousers, and jackets to match your body shape. A well-tailored garment instantly enhances your overall appearance, giving you a polished and sophisticated look.
2. Invest in Versatile Basics:
Building a stylish wardrobe starts with investing in versatile basics. These are timeless pieces that can be mixed and matched with different outfits to create various looks. Essential items like a crisp white shirt, a well-fitted pair of jeans, a navy blazer, and a classic black or brown leather belt can serve as the foundation for numerous stylish ensembles.
3. Master the Art of Layering:
Layering is a simple yet effective way to add depth and dimension to your outfits. Experiment with different combinations of shirts, sweaters, jackets, and accessories to create stylish layered looks. Layering not only provides extra warmth during colder months but also adds visual interest and complexity to your overall appearance.
4. Pay Attention to Proportions:
Understanding proportions is vital for creating a balanced and flattering look. Consider your body shape and height when selecting clothing items. If you're on the shorter side, opt for slim-fit trousers and shorter jackets to create the illusion of height. On the other hand, if you're tall, go for wider lapels and longer jackets to maintain the right proportions.
5. Accessorize Thoughtfully:
Accessories are an often overlooked aspect of men's fashion. A well-chosen accessory can elevate even the simplest outfit. Experiment with items like watches, ties, pocket squares, bracelets, and statement belts to add a touch of personality to your overall look. However, it's crucial to strike a balance and not overdo it. Choose one or two accessories that complement your outfit without overwhelming it.
6. Embrace Colors and Patterns:
Don't be afraid to incorporate colors and patterns into your wardrobe. Many men tend to stick to neutral colors, but adding pops of color can make a significant difference. Experiment with different shades and patterns to add vibrancy and interest to your outfits. Start with subtle patterns like checks or stripes and gradually incorporate bolder choices into your wardrobe.
7. Pay Attention to Grooming:
No matter how stylish your clothing is, neglecting grooming can undermine your overall look. Pay attention to details such as well-maintained facial hair, neatly trimmed nails, and polished shoes. Regular grooming routines and cleanliness are essential for presenting a well-put-together appearance.
8. Confidence is Key:
Perhaps the most important trick of all is to wear your clothes with confidence. No matter how fashionable your attire may be, if you lack confidence, it will not make the impact it deserves. Stand tall, embrace your personal style, and exude confidence in your clothing choices. When you feel good in what you're wearing, it radiates through your body language and leaves a lasting impression on others.
Conclusion: By implementing these eight clothing tricks, you can transform your style and present yourself as a fashionable and confident individual. Remember, fashion is a form of self-expression, and with a little knowledge and experimentation, you can develop a unique style that reflects your personality. So, gentlemen, it's time to embrace these tips, step up your fashion game, and make a statement wherever you go!
2023.06.09 03:29 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.09 03:24 Fariin-NSF A Minutemen Troop Transport
 | After so many years I’ve made my own lore around a desperate branch of the minutemen that’s dedicated to naval warfare, tactics and most importantly the manufacturing and maintenance of the various boats both created and modified from prewar finds still in good condition. submitted by Fariin-NSF to falloutsettlements [link] [comments] This armored transport has giant skid bars built into the frame with the intention of ramming the ship through low hanging objects by forcing it to ride lower than normal for a short period if it’s a hard surface or ram right through ramshackle wooded objects if needed, while it’s primary function is a transport for 25 soldiers it is also capable of limited offense with a .50 browning M2 on either side and the captain is protected by low overhangs to prevent bullets with extra wire mesh to keep out debris, grenades and wildlife. The gunner compartment is separated from the transport area and the walls lined with sound deadening foam from a radio studio to help save everyone’s hearing, it may not be much however it still exceeds 3M standards. Due to being a transport with a capability to kill, it’s ability to rip through obstacles and its shape in the water the men have taken to calling them Rippos, a nod to the prewar hippo and their unusually high body count. Being one of only 2 transport ships and being the most capable of inland exploration the Rippos often make first contact as they cruise in with the side gunners suppressing targets causing it to also have multiple kills despite not being a designated fighting craft. |
2023.06.09 02:26 FormalSmoke The Wales Bonner x adidas SS23 Footwear Collection Debuts Tomorrow
Check out Amazon Gold Box Daily Deals
Check out the Top Deals on Sneakers for Sale on Amazon!
The Wales Bonner x adidas SS23 Footwear Collection Debuts Tomorrow
adidas Originals and Wales Bonner continue their ongoing collaborative partnership with a Spring/Summer 2023 collection. For this collection, the central focus switches to the Caribbean as the British designer adroitly explores the Trefoil’s lasting presence within Jamaican culture.
This season sees Bonner returning to the classic adidas Samba and the SL72 running shoe, both were both featured in the FW20 and SS22 drops. Shown below, the Samba is crafted in full leather covered in a reflective gunmetal finish with decorative-stitched Three Stripes branding on the sides and heel badge. Its oversized tongues nods to the retro soccer boots while sitting atop an Earthy Brown rubber sole. The SL72 Knit will drop in two color options. Both comes constructed out of a knitted upper with suede overlays and premium leather tongues, heels, and inner lining for an extra premium touch. The first one is dressed in Green with Yellow contrasting accents, while the other comes in a Brown with Burnt Orange accents. All three pairs come with Wales Bonner branding on the lateral heel, insoles, and co-branding packaging.
Drawing on the nation’s awe-inspiring landscape and environment, the collection features a matching light teal nylon tracksuit, signature tracksuit in elevated knit construction, striking silver anorak with matching shorts, and the introduction of a Jamaican icon in the form of a Harrington jacket and flared trouser set. Other highlights include a toweling top and shorts set, knitted geometric patten roll neck, knitted sweater vest, neutral sweater sweatpant set, and two vibrant short-sleeve cotton t-shirts.
Get an official look at the Wales Bonner x adidas SS23 Footwear Collection below and look for them to release on June 9th at select adidas Originals retailers and adidas.com. Retail is set at $200 per pair.
In Jordan Brand news, check out official images of the upcoming Air Jordan 1 Low OG Black Cement.
submitted by FormalSmoke to ShoeSneakerFashion [link] [comments]
Check out the Top Deals on Sneakers for Sale on Amazon!
The Wales Bonner x adidas SS23 Footwear Collection Debuts Tomorrow
adidas Originals and Wales Bonner continue their ongoing collaborative partnership with a Spring/Summer 2023 collection. For this collection, the central focus switches to the Caribbean as the British designer adroitly explores the Trefoil’s lasting presence within Jamaican culture.
This season sees Bonner returning to the classic adidas Samba and the SL72 running shoe, both were both featured in the FW20 and SS22 drops. Shown below, the Samba is crafted in full leather covered in a reflective gunmetal finish with decorative-stitched Three Stripes branding on the sides and heel badge. Its oversized tongues nods to the retro soccer boots while sitting atop an Earthy Brown rubber sole. The SL72 Knit will drop in two color options. Both comes constructed out of a knitted upper with suede overlays and premium leather tongues, heels, and inner lining for an extra premium touch. The first one is dressed in Green with Yellow contrasting accents, while the other comes in a Brown with Burnt Orange accents. All three pairs come with Wales Bonner branding on the lateral heel, insoles, and co-branding packaging.
Drawing on the nation’s awe-inspiring landscape and environment, the collection features a matching light teal nylon tracksuit, signature tracksuit in elevated knit construction, striking silver anorak with matching shorts, and the introduction of a Jamaican icon in the form of a Harrington jacket and flared trouser set. Other highlights include a toweling top and shorts set, knitted geometric patten roll neck, knitted sweater vest, neutral sweater sweatpant set, and two vibrant short-sleeve cotton t-shirts.
Get an official look at the Wales Bonner x adidas SS23 Footwear Collection below and look for them to release on June 9th at select adidas Originals retailers and adidas.com. Retail is set at $200 per pair.
In Jordan Brand news, check out official images of the upcoming Air Jordan 1 Low OG Black Cement.
2023.06.09 00:56 SwimmingOk4643 I... am... van Richten, Vampire Slayer! - A high camp alternative to RAW
Background
I always had trouble with van Richten in RAW. The van Helsing analogue was supposed to be a famous monster killer, a very serious man, but most everything he does is high camp kitch... Disguises himself as a circus owner? Arrives in town with a monkey? Gives said monkey to a toy maker? Writes notes to himself about an orc that can chew iron bars? Wears a 'hat of disguise' and a 'ring of mind shielding'? Has a starving tiger... in a circus wagon.... that is his master plan.... to commit Vistani genocide?????? How can anyone take this guy seriously?
On top of that, you have Esmerelda, the one of the pair who seems to actually fight monsters, herself Vistani, whom we're told is van Richten's protege? Who, despite her seeming professionalism, has no idea nor plan to stop her mad sensei from wiping out her people... by starving tiger....?
So, I rewrote the guy. I like him much better this way. He's much more fun to play. An opportunity for role playing DM to really chew some scenery. Hopefully some of you like it too.
The party met him in Blue Water, but he was cagey as in RAW. They never really took interest in him & I never knew what to do with him, so he faded a bit into the background. Then the Feast of St Andral & Vallaki burning... suddenly Rictavio appears, shaking, snarling circus wagon in tow... "You know me as Rictavio, master of the circus, lord of the ring! But I am actually a Vampire Hunter! Meet me tomorrow at my tower!" With that unexpected & unprovoked revelation, he gallops off dramatically through the burning gates into the night....
Van Richten - Vampire Hunter
Simply put... Rudolph van Richten is barking mad. The former owner of what is now the Walpole and Son Bookstore in Vallaki, he went out of business as, lost in his endless library of fantasy, he would spend days forgetting even to unlock the front door . He was particularly fascinated by the book "The Chilling Tales of Rudolph van Richten, Vampire Hunter." , a melodramatic, but well-read pulp novel written long ago by a Barovian author who claimed to see visions from beyond the mists and was later institutionalized.
The young Rudy, now without job or means, retreated further into his fictional world and now imagines himself to be the famed monster hunter himself! He is Strahd's arch-enemy (although Strahd has never heard of him) , constantly hunted and on the run. He disguises himself in increasingly absurd ways - the latest being the carnival barker Rictavio (he got the idea from a traveling circus - Refugees from the Carnival dark domain in the Ravenloft guide and a future random encounter). To complement the deception, he "acquired" a wagon from an unsuspecting farmer, which he painted in bright, splashy colors and purchased a monkey from the Lake Vistani.
When the party first encounters him at the Blue Water in Vallaki, he will have been spying on the Lake Vistani for the last several weeks. He regularly pulls his carriage up just outside of their camp, dons his 'Hat of Disguise' and in an exaggeratedly thick accent, pretends to be a fellow Vistani 'from far south'. The Vistani regard him as a harmless crank and regularly ask him to tell them more funny stories about their "brothers to the south" - which become increasingly inventive with each telling - and to sell him bits of random junk... err... "magical Vistani treasures", including a 'Ring of Mind Shielding' which is actually nothing more than a cheap electrum plated brass ring that's already starting to rub off and make his fingers itch (evidence that he is under constant assault from Strahd!). The Vistani might be a bit less welcoming, however, if they knew he was also stealing their laundry to train the very real tiger that he has locked in his circus wagon (it followed him, for its own purposes, from the Carnival).
Meeting Van Richten
When the party arrives at the tower, they will find van Richten waiting for them there - he has just arrived from his regular 'infiltration' of the Vistani. He introduces himself with a dramatic bow & flourish "For more than three decades now, I have undertaken to investigate and expose creatures of darkness to the purifying light of truth and knowledge. "Hero" I am named in some circles, "sage" and "master hunter" I am called in others. That I have survived countless supernatural assaults is seen as a marvel among my peers; my name is spoken with fear and loathing among my foes. I…am… Rudolph von Richten, Vampire Hunter!!" (This is both the opening to his papers in RAW and - in this version - the opening paragraph to the fictional novel "The Chilling Tales of Rudolph van Richten, Vampire Hunter"). As he pronounces his name, trilling his 'r's to an absurd length, he throws back his cape, revealing an overabundance of vampire hunting weapons, hand sewn in loops and pockets: wooden stakes, silver daggers, holy water, holy symbols, mirrors and a long string of garlic bulbs around his neck. Before the party can react, he seems to remember that he is outdoors where the evil one could be listening and in a loud whisper warns that the night has ears and they "shouldn't speak out in the open!"
He invites the party into the tower, but stops suddenly before the door, arms shielding the party from invisible danger. "Stand back! My tower is equipped with a powerful ward! If you make the slightest move, a bolt of lightning will strike you down from the skies!" He gestures at the door pointing out scratches in the old wood, which, if the party squints hard and applies a great deal of imagination might be stick figures...? "You must do as I do, if you want to live!" As the party watches bemused, van Richten contorts himself into a complicated series of silly poses and facial expressions. He insists that the party does the same (make your players get up and repeat your dance!). Then... nothing... He gestures to follow, opening the mundane and harmless wooden door to the tower.
As the party walks up the stairs of the dismal and ruined tower they see a broken platform & worn statues. Van Richten, turns dramatically at each floor and addresses the party: "This was the tower of the great Wizard Kazan (another figure from an adventure book he read) and is protected by an anti-magic shield! Strahd can not hear them or pass its walls! We are safe here!" He walks up the stairs a pace then turns, hand dramatically extended in the face of the party, pointing to his ring... "How do I fool the dark lord when I am outside, you ask? Behold! The great treasure of the Vistani! A Ring of Mind Shielding!" Up another floor on the creaky stairs, van Richten again wheels to face the party, pointing out the 'Stone Golems, that protect the tower from intruders!" When the party touches them, small bits of rock chip off and rattle their way down the tower.
When the party finally arrives at the top of the tower, van Richten opens the door. A powerful smell of garlic and sweat fills the air. The room is full of rows of garlic hanging from the roof, the walls are covered with holy symbols and mirrors. The floor is covered with piles of handwritten books (his notes and plans, which he copies down in an indecipherable script of his own invention - which reads suspiciously like pig-latin.) There are strings criss-crossing from wall to wall, forming an intricate net between hundreds of scraps of paper and drawings attached everywhere, all seemingly leading to a single torn out portrait of Strahd, defaced with cartoon horns & fangs in red and the words 'Vasilli!!??!?!' written in red pen underneath (The party recently learned Vasilli's secret). Some of the strings have drawings or recognized villains: Lady Wachter, the Baron & Izek, but there's also the Martikovs (with a feather pinned to it), Walpole the bookseller (with exaggerated glasses and a dunce cap drawn on) and Claudia from the orphanage (with the name Belasco!!!!! underlined twice in red).
Most surprisingly, there is also a monkey here, swinging from string to string towards its master, pulling a few from their nails as it does. Van Richten shouts loudly "Piccolo, stop it! Filthy monkey! You'll destroy my research!" He users the party into the room. Once in, he turns again to face them: "Now I can reveal what I have learned! The true enemy is not Strahd! It is… Madam Eva!." At this revelation, he slams the door shut revealing that all the lines around the room also connect to a crudely drawn picture of Madam Eva, with the words "Must see the Takkora. How does she know?!?!?!" written in all caps and triple underlined. "It is true! How could she know what is in the cards unless she was controlling it from the start! Haven't you ever wondered how she knows your fate? Do you know also why some are born without souls? It is her! She is the puppet-master of Ravenloft!" (In my game, she's responsible for the missing souls, so - like with many things, he's crazy, but makes some connections others don't)
By now the party's suspicions are confirmed… this guy is not living on the same plane of reality… but he misreads their understanding as agreement. "Ah, you see it too! I understood it when I visited the Lake Tser Vistani camp in disguise! They mistook me as one of their own… see?" He puts on the "Hat of Disguise" (a hunter's cap with some sort of metal paper wrapped around it) which was hanging from a holy symbol on the wall and spreads out his hands wide as if demonstrating a singular transformation. Seeing no reaction, he pulls off the hat. "Do not worry friends, it is I! Rudolph van Richten!" "They took me to Madam Eva and she read my fortune. She told me that my story would soon come to an end. A threat! That's when I knew I was getting close. She said a new chapter could only begin if I found the Vistani girl Arabella at the Lake camp." (In my game, Arabelle is a future threat to Madam Eva's plans, so she's manipulating Van Richten). "But I saw through her trickery. I knew that little girl would spell my doom! So I went to the Lake Vistani, found her alone and cut off her head!" (Here the party firsts starts to see his madness isn't totally harmless). He flings open a footchest and pulls out a heavy burlap bag. "I commanded the dead to speak and it told me its secrets. It confessed that Madam Eva was the true power behind the mists!"
"Now you know. I need your help to defeat Madam Eva once and for all! I have trapped a ferocious beast from beyond the veil. I have kept him chained and ravenous in my cart. I have tormented him wearing Vistani clothes. You will help me take it to Madam Eva, we will disguise ourselves as a carnival, then when she emerges from her tent, we will release the tiger!" He lifts two fingers up to his mouth like fangs and snarls.
Enter Esmerelda
At the end of this rant, the door behind the party slams open. In it, stands a tall, wiry Vistani woman with long curly black hair tied back behind a brown scarf, wearing beaten leather armor and a tarnished, yet obviously cared for silver rapier. She's been following the party since they left Ravenloft (They just finished the dinner). The Tser Pool Vistani speak highly of them, but anyone leaving that place might be an agent of Strahd, so she's cautious and hostile.
Esmerelda is a Lake Vistani, the sister of Arrigal. She is ashamed of her people's support for Strahd and of their practice of bringing outsiders into Barovia. She left the camp when she was a teenager because she refused to stand by Arrigal as he supplicated to Strahd after his father died, leaving him heir. Always a capable fighter, on her own, she has become much more so. Unwelcome with her people, she drifted until she found her way to Krezk, where she fell in love with Kolya, the eldest son of the Krezkovs. They were to be married - against the wishes of Anna, suspicious of Vistani - when Dmitry was killed by werewolves while hunting for the winter. Anna, mourning her son, blamed Esmerelda for having brought a Vistani curse on her family and she was exiled.
With nowhere else to go, remembering the tattered book she found as a child and taught herself to read with - "The Chilling Tales of Rudolph van Richten, Vampire Hunter." - she pitted her formidable skills against the werewolves terrorizing the region. Although she tells herself she does this to protect the innocent, she also feels the need to disprove the prejudices against her people. She gets on better with the Tser Vistani, whom she often trades with, but she's suspicious of Madam Eva for reasons she can't quite put her finger on (Madame Eva knows she's a blood relative of Arabelle and is destined to aid her in the future contest to become the next seer).
Esmerelda vs Van Richten
As soon as she opens the door, she taunts van Richten: "So you're the famous van Richten? Destroyer of the Lich of Lamordia? The Headless Rider of Kalakiri? The Death Knight of Darkon…? Children's books... I read them when I was a young girl. What would you do, great monster hunter, if you felt the claws of a werewolf around your throat, if you felt its breath on your neck?" She approaches, her rapier tapping on the overstuffed cape van Richten wears. "Which bit of that worthless junk in your bags would you reach for, eh? Your crazy head would be ripped off your shoulders before you could choose" With a swift slash, Esmerelda cuts the burlap bag containing the head of Arabelle and a heavy rock with a crude face painted on it tumbles out onto the floor. "You're a fake."
van Richten protests: "But… I… I've seen a warehare turn into a rabbit at the full moon! I knew a half orc who could chew through iron… a giant plant monster that could sing most beautifully…" (All of these are in in his notes and will later appear as a random encounter in the Carnival). "Wait till I get my tiger!" he threatens, pushing the party aside as he runs through the door, down the tower.
She now turns her attention to the party, taunting them: "Why were you in Ravenloft? Taking orders from your master? Getting reward for your service - she fingers the crystal bracelet (a gift from Strahd). After a talk, Esmerelda demands the party prove themselves (a way she has of 'asking' for things): "Come to Krezk… they have a werewolf problem. If you are truly the heroes you claim to be, you should not fear a few monsters?" She throws a leather satchel on the table and several fangs spill out. "I don't" (Esmerelda is also a breadcrumb to Krezk & Werewolf Den).
As the party follows her down the tower, they find Van Richten fighting with the lock on his circus wagon. Whatever is inside must be clawing great furrows into the door to get out, since it's shaking the small cart to pieces. Seeing the party, he spits at them 'Vistani lovers, you'll pay for this betrayal!" With that last burst of anger, he pries the lock off the wagon and an enormous Sabertooth tiger leaps out, knocking him to the ground. He manages to scamper just far enough away that he can pull himself up as the tiger, with the scent of the man who had been starving and taunting it for weeks in its nostrils, slowly begins to stalk its prey. Terrified, van Richten runs into the tower, slamming the door behind him as it furiously claws at the wooden door, trying to get in.
submitted by SwimmingOk4643 to CurseofStrahd [link] [comments]
I always had trouble with van Richten in RAW. The van Helsing analogue was supposed to be a famous monster killer, a very serious man, but most everything he does is high camp kitch... Disguises himself as a circus owner? Arrives in town with a monkey? Gives said monkey to a toy maker? Writes notes to himself about an orc that can chew iron bars? Wears a 'hat of disguise' and a 'ring of mind shielding'? Has a starving tiger... in a circus wagon.... that is his master plan.... to commit Vistani genocide?????? How can anyone take this guy seriously?
On top of that, you have Esmerelda, the one of the pair who seems to actually fight monsters, herself Vistani, whom we're told is van Richten's protege? Who, despite her seeming professionalism, has no idea nor plan to stop her mad sensei from wiping out her people... by starving tiger....?
So, I rewrote the guy. I like him much better this way. He's much more fun to play. An opportunity for role playing DM to really chew some scenery. Hopefully some of you like it too.
The party met him in Blue Water, but he was cagey as in RAW. They never really took interest in him & I never knew what to do with him, so he faded a bit into the background. Then the Feast of St Andral & Vallaki burning... suddenly Rictavio appears, shaking, snarling circus wagon in tow... "You know me as Rictavio, master of the circus, lord of the ring! But I am actually a Vampire Hunter! Meet me tomorrow at my tower!" With that unexpected & unprovoked revelation, he gallops off dramatically through the burning gates into the night....
Van Richten - Vampire Hunter
Simply put... Rudolph van Richten is barking mad. The former owner of what is now the Walpole and Son Bookstore in Vallaki, he went out of business as, lost in his endless library of fantasy, he would spend days forgetting even to unlock the front door . He was particularly fascinated by the book "The Chilling Tales of Rudolph van Richten, Vampire Hunter." , a melodramatic, but well-read pulp novel written long ago by a Barovian author who claimed to see visions from beyond the mists and was later institutionalized.
The young Rudy, now without job or means, retreated further into his fictional world and now imagines himself to be the famed monster hunter himself! He is Strahd's arch-enemy (although Strahd has never heard of him) , constantly hunted and on the run. He disguises himself in increasingly absurd ways - the latest being the carnival barker Rictavio (he got the idea from a traveling circus - Refugees from the Carnival dark domain in the Ravenloft guide and a future random encounter). To complement the deception, he "acquired" a wagon from an unsuspecting farmer, which he painted in bright, splashy colors and purchased a monkey from the Lake Vistani.
When the party first encounters him at the Blue Water in Vallaki, he will have been spying on the Lake Vistani for the last several weeks. He regularly pulls his carriage up just outside of their camp, dons his 'Hat of Disguise' and in an exaggeratedly thick accent, pretends to be a fellow Vistani 'from far south'. The Vistani regard him as a harmless crank and regularly ask him to tell them more funny stories about their "brothers to the south" - which become increasingly inventive with each telling - and to sell him bits of random junk... err... "magical Vistani treasures", including a 'Ring of Mind Shielding' which is actually nothing more than a cheap electrum plated brass ring that's already starting to rub off and make his fingers itch (evidence that he is under constant assault from Strahd!). The Vistani might be a bit less welcoming, however, if they knew he was also stealing their laundry to train the very real tiger that he has locked in his circus wagon (it followed him, for its own purposes, from the Carnival).
Meeting Van Richten
When the party arrives at the tower, they will find van Richten waiting for them there - he has just arrived from his regular 'infiltration' of the Vistani. He introduces himself with a dramatic bow & flourish "For more than three decades now, I have undertaken to investigate and expose creatures of darkness to the purifying light of truth and knowledge. "Hero" I am named in some circles, "sage" and "master hunter" I am called in others. That I have survived countless supernatural assaults is seen as a marvel among my peers; my name is spoken with fear and loathing among my foes. I…am… Rudolph von Richten, Vampire Hunter!!" (This is both the opening to his papers in RAW and - in this version - the opening paragraph to the fictional novel "The Chilling Tales of Rudolph van Richten, Vampire Hunter"). As he pronounces his name, trilling his 'r's to an absurd length, he throws back his cape, revealing an overabundance of vampire hunting weapons, hand sewn in loops and pockets: wooden stakes, silver daggers, holy water, holy symbols, mirrors and a long string of garlic bulbs around his neck. Before the party can react, he seems to remember that he is outdoors where the evil one could be listening and in a loud whisper warns that the night has ears and they "shouldn't speak out in the open!"
He invites the party into the tower, but stops suddenly before the door, arms shielding the party from invisible danger. "Stand back! My tower is equipped with a powerful ward! If you make the slightest move, a bolt of lightning will strike you down from the skies!" He gestures at the door pointing out scratches in the old wood, which, if the party squints hard and applies a great deal of imagination might be stick figures...? "You must do as I do, if you want to live!" As the party watches bemused, van Richten contorts himself into a complicated series of silly poses and facial expressions. He insists that the party does the same (make your players get up and repeat your dance!). Then... nothing... He gestures to follow, opening the mundane and harmless wooden door to the tower.
As the party walks up the stairs of the dismal and ruined tower they see a broken platform & worn statues. Van Richten, turns dramatically at each floor and addresses the party: "This was the tower of the great Wizard Kazan (another figure from an adventure book he read) and is protected by an anti-magic shield! Strahd can not hear them or pass its walls! We are safe here!" He walks up the stairs a pace then turns, hand dramatically extended in the face of the party, pointing to his ring... "How do I fool the dark lord when I am outside, you ask? Behold! The great treasure of the Vistani! A Ring of Mind Shielding!" Up another floor on the creaky stairs, van Richten again wheels to face the party, pointing out the 'Stone Golems, that protect the tower from intruders!" When the party touches them, small bits of rock chip off and rattle their way down the tower.
When the party finally arrives at the top of the tower, van Richten opens the door. A powerful smell of garlic and sweat fills the air. The room is full of rows of garlic hanging from the roof, the walls are covered with holy symbols and mirrors. The floor is covered with piles of handwritten books (his notes and plans, which he copies down in an indecipherable script of his own invention - which reads suspiciously like pig-latin.) There are strings criss-crossing from wall to wall, forming an intricate net between hundreds of scraps of paper and drawings attached everywhere, all seemingly leading to a single torn out portrait of Strahd, defaced with cartoon horns & fangs in red and the words 'Vasilli!!??!?!' written in red pen underneath (The party recently learned Vasilli's secret). Some of the strings have drawings or recognized villains: Lady Wachter, the Baron & Izek, but there's also the Martikovs (with a feather pinned to it), Walpole the bookseller (with exaggerated glasses and a dunce cap drawn on) and Claudia from the orphanage (with the name Belasco!!!!! underlined twice in red).
Most surprisingly, there is also a monkey here, swinging from string to string towards its master, pulling a few from their nails as it does. Van Richten shouts loudly "Piccolo, stop it! Filthy monkey! You'll destroy my research!" He users the party into the room. Once in, he turns again to face them: "Now I can reveal what I have learned! The true enemy is not Strahd! It is… Madam Eva!." At this revelation, he slams the door shut revealing that all the lines around the room also connect to a crudely drawn picture of Madam Eva, with the words "Must see the Takkora. How does she know?!?!?!" written in all caps and triple underlined. "It is true! How could she know what is in the cards unless she was controlling it from the start! Haven't you ever wondered how she knows your fate? Do you know also why some are born without souls? It is her! She is the puppet-master of Ravenloft!" (In my game, she's responsible for the missing souls, so - like with many things, he's crazy, but makes some connections others don't)
By now the party's suspicions are confirmed… this guy is not living on the same plane of reality… but he misreads their understanding as agreement. "Ah, you see it too! I understood it when I visited the Lake Tser Vistani camp in disguise! They mistook me as one of their own… see?" He puts on the "Hat of Disguise" (a hunter's cap with some sort of metal paper wrapped around it) which was hanging from a holy symbol on the wall and spreads out his hands wide as if demonstrating a singular transformation. Seeing no reaction, he pulls off the hat. "Do not worry friends, it is I! Rudolph van Richten!" "They took me to Madam Eva and she read my fortune. She told me that my story would soon come to an end. A threat! That's when I knew I was getting close. She said a new chapter could only begin if I found the Vistani girl Arabella at the Lake camp." (In my game, Arabelle is a future threat to Madam Eva's plans, so she's manipulating Van Richten). "But I saw through her trickery. I knew that little girl would spell my doom! So I went to the Lake Vistani, found her alone and cut off her head!" (Here the party firsts starts to see his madness isn't totally harmless). He flings open a footchest and pulls out a heavy burlap bag. "I commanded the dead to speak and it told me its secrets. It confessed that Madam Eva was the true power behind the mists!"
"Now you know. I need your help to defeat Madam Eva once and for all! I have trapped a ferocious beast from beyond the veil. I have kept him chained and ravenous in my cart. I have tormented him wearing Vistani clothes. You will help me take it to Madam Eva, we will disguise ourselves as a carnival, then when she emerges from her tent, we will release the tiger!" He lifts two fingers up to his mouth like fangs and snarls.
Enter Esmerelda
At the end of this rant, the door behind the party slams open. In it, stands a tall, wiry Vistani woman with long curly black hair tied back behind a brown scarf, wearing beaten leather armor and a tarnished, yet obviously cared for silver rapier. She's been following the party since they left Ravenloft (They just finished the dinner). The Tser Pool Vistani speak highly of them, but anyone leaving that place might be an agent of Strahd, so she's cautious and hostile.
Esmerelda is a Lake Vistani, the sister of Arrigal. She is ashamed of her people's support for Strahd and of their practice of bringing outsiders into Barovia. She left the camp when she was a teenager because she refused to stand by Arrigal as he supplicated to Strahd after his father died, leaving him heir. Always a capable fighter, on her own, she has become much more so. Unwelcome with her people, she drifted until she found her way to Krezk, where she fell in love with Kolya, the eldest son of the Krezkovs. They were to be married - against the wishes of Anna, suspicious of Vistani - when Dmitry was killed by werewolves while hunting for the winter. Anna, mourning her son, blamed Esmerelda for having brought a Vistani curse on her family and she was exiled.
With nowhere else to go, remembering the tattered book she found as a child and taught herself to read with - "The Chilling Tales of Rudolph van Richten, Vampire Hunter." - she pitted her formidable skills against the werewolves terrorizing the region. Although she tells herself she does this to protect the innocent, she also feels the need to disprove the prejudices against her people. She gets on better with the Tser Vistani, whom she often trades with, but she's suspicious of Madam Eva for reasons she can't quite put her finger on (Madame Eva knows she's a blood relative of Arabelle and is destined to aid her in the future contest to become the next seer).
Esmerelda vs Van Richten
As soon as she opens the door, she taunts van Richten: "So you're the famous van Richten? Destroyer of the Lich of Lamordia? The Headless Rider of Kalakiri? The Death Knight of Darkon…? Children's books... I read them when I was a young girl. What would you do, great monster hunter, if you felt the claws of a werewolf around your throat, if you felt its breath on your neck?" She approaches, her rapier tapping on the overstuffed cape van Richten wears. "Which bit of that worthless junk in your bags would you reach for, eh? Your crazy head would be ripped off your shoulders before you could choose" With a swift slash, Esmerelda cuts the burlap bag containing the head of Arabelle and a heavy rock with a crude face painted on it tumbles out onto the floor. "You're a fake."
van Richten protests: "But… I… I've seen a warehare turn into a rabbit at the full moon! I knew a half orc who could chew through iron… a giant plant monster that could sing most beautifully…" (All of these are in in his notes and will later appear as a random encounter in the Carnival). "Wait till I get my tiger!" he threatens, pushing the party aside as he runs through the door, down the tower.
She now turns her attention to the party, taunting them: "Why were you in Ravenloft? Taking orders from your master? Getting reward for your service - she fingers the crystal bracelet (a gift from Strahd). After a talk, Esmerelda demands the party prove themselves (a way she has of 'asking' for things): "Come to Krezk… they have a werewolf problem. If you are truly the heroes you claim to be, you should not fear a few monsters?" She throws a leather satchel on the table and several fangs spill out. "I don't" (Esmerelda is also a breadcrumb to Krezk & Werewolf Den).
As the party follows her down the tower, they find Van Richten fighting with the lock on his circus wagon. Whatever is inside must be clawing great furrows into the door to get out, since it's shaking the small cart to pieces. Seeing the party, he spits at them 'Vistani lovers, you'll pay for this betrayal!" With that last burst of anger, he pries the lock off the wagon and an enormous Sabertooth tiger leaps out, knocking him to the ground. He manages to scamper just far enough away that he can pull himself up as the tiger, with the scent of the man who had been starving and taunting it for weeks in its nostrils, slowly begins to stalk its prey. Terrified, van Richten runs into the tower, slamming the door behind him as it furiously claws at the wooden door, trying to get in.
2023.06.09 00:51 sandwich_with_a_hat i am sorry
NARRATOR: (Black screen with text; The sound of buzzing bees can be heard) According to all known laws of aviation, : there is no way a bee should be able to fly. : Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. : The bee, of course, flies anyway : because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. BARRY BENSON: (Barry is picking out a shirt) Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. : Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. JANET BENSON: Barry! Breakfast is ready! BARRY: Coming! : Hang on a second. (Barry uses his antenna like a phone) : Hello? ADAM FLAYMAN:
(Through phone) - Barry? BARRY: - Adam? ADAM: - Can you believe this is happening? BARRY: - I can't. I'll pick you up. (Barry flies down the stairs) : MARTIN BENSON: Looking sharp. JANET: Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. BARRY: Sorry. I'm excited. MARTIN: Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. : A perfect report card, all B's. JANET: Very proud. (Rubs Barry's hair) BARRY= Ma! I got a thing going here. JANET: - You got lint on your fuzz. BARRY: - Ow! That's me!
JANET: - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! (Barry flies out the door) JANET: Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! (Barry drives through the hive,and is waved at by Adam who is reading a newspaper) BARRY== - Hey, Adam. ADAM: - Hey, Barry. (Adam gets in Barry's car) : - Is that fuzz gel? BARRY: - A little. Special day, graduation. ADAM: Never thought I'd make it. (Barry pulls away from the house and continues driving) BARRY: Three days grade school, three days high school... ADAM: Those were awkward. BARRY: Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. ADAM== You did come back different. (Barry and Adam pass by Artie, who is jogging) ARTIE: - Hi, Barry!
BARRY: - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. ADAM: - Hear about Frankie? BARRY: - Yeah. ADAM== - You going to the funeral? BARRY: - No, I'm not going to his funeral. : Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. : Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. ADAM: I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. (The car does a barrel roll on the loop-shaped bridge and lands on the highway) : I love this incorporating an amusement park into our regular day. BARRY: I guess that's why they say we don't need vacations. (Barry parallel parks the car and together they fly over the graduating students) Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. (Barry and Adam sit down and put on their hats) : - Well, Adam, today we are men.
ADAM: - We are! BARRY= - Bee-men. =ADAM= - Amen! BARRY AND ADAM: Hallelujah! (Barry and Adam both have a happy spasm) ANNOUNCER: Students, faculty, distinguished bees, : please welcome Dean Buzzwell. DEAN BUZZWELL: Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... : ...9: : That concludes our ceremonies. : And begins your career at Honex Industries! ADAM: Will we pick our job today? (Adam and Barry get into a tour bus) BARRY= I heard it's just orientation. (Tour buses rise out of the ground and the students are automatically loaded into the buses) TOUR GUIDE: Heads up! Here we go.
ANNOUNCER: Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. BARRY: - Wonder what it'll be like? ADAM: - A little scary. TOUR GUIDE== Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco : and a part of the Hexagon Group. Barry: This is it! BARRY AND ADAM: Wow. BARRY: Wow. (The bus drives down a road an on either side are the Bee's massive complicated Honey-making machines) TOUR GUIDE: We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life : to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. : Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. : Our top-secret formula : is automatically color-corrected,
scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured : into this soothing sweet syrup : with its distinctive golden glow you know as... EVERYONE ON BUS: Honey! (The guide has been collecting honey into a bottle and she throws it into the crowd on the bus and it is caught by a girl in the back) ADAM: - That girl was hot. BARRY: - She's my cousin! ADAM== - She is? BARRY: - Yes, we're all cousins. ADAM: - Right. You're right. TOUR GUIDE: - At Honex, we constantly strive : to improve every aspect of bee existence. : These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. (The bus passes by a Bee wearing a helmet who is being smashed into the ground with fly-swatters, newspapers and boots. He lifts a thumbs up but you can hear him groan) : ADAM==
BARRY: You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? ADAM: Like what? Give me one example. (Barry and Adam stop walking and it is revealed to the audience that hundreds of cars are speeding by and narrowly missing them in perfect unison) BARRY: I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. ANNOUNCER: Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. BARRY: Wait a second. Check it out. (The Pollen jocks fly in, circle around and landing in line) : - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! ADAM: - Wow. : I've never seen them this close. BARRY: They know what it's like outside the hive. ADAM: Yeah, but some don't come back. GIRL BEES: - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! (The Pollen Jocks hook up their backpacks to machines that pump the nectar to trucks, which drive away)
LOU LO DUVA: You guys did great! : You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! (Punching the Pollen Jocks in joy) I love it! ADAM: - I wonder where they were. BARRY: - I don't know. : Their day's not planned. : Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. : You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. ADAM== Right. (Barry and Adam are covered in some pollen that floated off of the Pollen Jocks) BARRY: Look at that. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. ADAM: It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. BARRY: Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. (Barry waves at 2 girls standing a little away from them)
ADAM== Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? BARRY: Distant. Distant. POLLEN JOCK #1: Look at these two. POLLEN JOCK #2: - Couple of Hive Harrys. POLLEN JOCK #1: - Let's have fun with them. GIRL BEE #1: It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. BARRY: Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! : He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! (Slaps Adam with his hand to represent his scenario) GIRL BEE #2: - Oh, my! BARRY: - I never thought I'd knock him out. GIRL BEE #1: (Looking at Adam) What were you doing during this? ADAM: Obviously I was trying to alert the authorities. BARRY: I can autograph that.
(The pollen jocks walk up to Barry and Adam, they pretend that Barry and Adam really are pollen jocks.) POLLEN JOCK #1: A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? BARRY: Yeah. Gusty. POLLEN JOCK #1: We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. BARRY: - Six miles, huh? ADAM: - Barry! POLLEN JOCK #2: A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. BARRY: - Maybe I am. ADAM: - You are not! POLLEN JOCK #1: We're going 0900 at J-Gate. : What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? BARRY: I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. (The scene cuts to Barry looking out on the hive-city from his balcony at night) MARTIN:
Hey, Honex! BARRY: Dad, you surprised me. MARTIN: You decide what you're interested in? BARRY: - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. : Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? MARTIN: Son, let me tell you about stirring. : You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. : You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. BARRY: You know, Dad, the more I think about it, : maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. MARTIN: You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? : That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. :
Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! JANET: - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. BARRY: - I'm not trying to be funny. MARTIN: You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! JANET: - You're gonna be a stirrer? BARRY: - No one's listening to me! MARTIN: Wait till you see the sticks I have. BARRY: I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! (Barry's parents don't listen to him and continue to ramble on) MARTIN: Let's open some honey and celebrate! BARRY: Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. : Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! JANET: I'm so proud. (The scene cuts to Barry and Adam waiting in line to get a job) ADAM: - We're starting work today!
BARRY: - Today's the day. ADAM: Come on! All the good jobs will be gone. BARRY: Yeah, right. JOB LISTER: Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... BEE IN FRONT OF LINE: - Is it still available? JOB LISTER: - Hang on. Two left! : One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. ADAM: - What'd you get? BEE IN FRONT OF LINE: - Picking crud out. Stellar! (He walks away) ADAM: Wow! JOB LISTER: Couple of newbies? ADAM: Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! JOB LISTER: Make your choice. (Adam and Barry look up at the job board. There are hundreds of constantly changing panels that contain available or unavailable jobs. It looks very confusing)
ADAM: - You want to go first? BARRY: - No, you go. ADAM: Oh, my. What's available? JOB LISTER: Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. ADAM: - Any chance of getting the Krelman? JOB LISTER: - Sure, you're on. (Puts the Krelman finger-hat on Adam's head) (Suddenly the sign for Krelman closes out) : I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. (Takes Adam's hat off) Wax monkey's always open. ADAM: The Krelman opened up again. : What happened? JOB LISTER: A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. : Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. : Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life!
ADAM: Oh, this is so hard! (Barry remembers what the Pollen Jock offered him and he flies off) Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, : humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, : mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? (Adam turns around and sees Barry flying away) : Barry! POLLEN JOCK: All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... ADAM: (Through phone) What happened to you? Where are you? BARRY: - I'm going out. ADAM: - Out? Out where? BARRY: - Out there. ADAM: - Oh, no! BARRY: I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. ADAM:
You're gonna die! You're crazy! (Barry hangs up) Hello? POLLEN JOCK #2: Another call coming in. : If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd : that gets their roses today. BARRY: Hey, guys. POLLEN JOCK #1 == - Look at that. POLLEN JOCK #2: - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? LOU LO DUVA: Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. POLLEN JOCK #1: It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. (Puts hand on Barry's shoulder) LOU LO DUVA: (To Barry) Really? Feeling lucky, are you? BEE WITH CLIPBOARD: (To Barry) Sign here, here. Just initial that. : - Thank you. LOU LO DUVA: - OK. : You got a rain advisory today, :
and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. : So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, : hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. : Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. : Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! BARRY: - That's awful. LOU LO DUVA: (Still talking through megaphone) - And a reminder for you rookies, : bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! : All right, launch positions! POLLEN JOCKS: (The Pollen Jocks run into formation) : Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! LOU LU DUVA: Black and yellow! POLLEN JOCKS:
Hello! POLLEN JOCK #1: (To Barry)You ready for this, hot shot? BARRY: Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. POLLEN JOCK's: Wind, check. : - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. : - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. BARRY: Scared out of my shorts, check. LOU LO DUVA: OK, ladies, : let's move it out! : Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! : All of you, drain those flowers! (The pollen jocks fly out of the hive) BARRY: Wow! I'm out! : I can't believe I'm out! : So blue.
: I feel so fast and free! : Box kite! (Barry flies through the kite) : Wow! : Flowers! (A pollen jock puts on some high tech goggles that shows flowers similar to heat sink goggles.) POLLEN JOCK: This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. : Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. : Roses! POLLEN JOCK #1: 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. : Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. (The pollen jock fires a high-tech gun at the flower, shooting tubes that suck up the nectar from the flower and collects it into a pouch on the gun) BARRY: That is one nectar collector! POLLEN JOCK #1== - Ever see pollination up close? BARRY: - No, sir. POLLEN JOCK #1:
(Barry and the Pollen jock fly over the field, the pollen jock sprinkles pollen as he goes) : I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, : a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. BARRY: That's amazing. Why do we do that? POLLEN JOCK #1: That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. BARRY: Cool. POLLEN JOCK #1: I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. could be daisies. Don't we need those? POLLEN JOCK #2: Copy that visual. : Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. POLLEN JOCK #1: Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? POLLEN JOCK #2: Affirmative. (The Pollen jocks land near the "flowers" which, to the audience are obviously just tennis balls) KEN: (In the distance) That was on the line!
POLLEN JOCK #1: This is the coolest. What is it? POLLEN JOCK #2: I don't know, but I'm loving this color. : It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. POLLEN JOCK #1: Yeah, fuzzy. (Sticks his hand on the ball but it gets stuck) POLLEN JOCK #3== Chemical-y. (The pollen jock finally gets his hand free from the tennis ball) POLLEN JOCK #1: Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. (The pollen jocks turn around and see Barry lying his entire body on top of one of the tennis balls) POLLEN JOCK #2: My sweet lord of bees! POLLEN JOCK #3: Candy-brain, get off there! POLLEN JOCK #1: (Pointing upwards) Problem! (A human hand reaches down and grabs the tennis ball that Barry is stuck to) BARRY: - Guys! POLLEN JOCK #2: - This could be bad. POLLEN JOCK #3: Affirmative. (Vanessa Bloome starts bouncing the tennis ball, not knowing Barry is stick to it)
BARRY== Very close. : Gonna hurt. : Mama's little boy. (Barry is being hit back and forth by two humans playing tennis. He is still stuck to the ball) POLLEN JOCK #1: You are way out of position, rookie! KEN: Coming in at you like a MISSILE! (Barry flies past the pollen jocks, still stuck to the ball) BARRY: (In slow motion) Help me! POLLEN JOCK #2: I don't think these are flowers. POLLEN JOCK #3: - Should we tell him? POLLEN JOCK #1: - I think he knows. BARRY: What is this?! KEN: Match point! : You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to EAT IT! (A pollen jock coughs which confused Ken and he hits the ball the wrong way with Barry stuck to it and it goes flying into the city) BARRY:
Yowser! (Barry bounces around town and gets stuck in the engine of a car. He flies into the air conditioner and sees a bug that was frozen in there) BARRY: Ew, gross. (The man driving the car turns on the air conditioner which blows Barry into the car) GIRL IN CAR: There's a bee in the car! : - Do something! DAD DRIVING CAR: - I'm driving! BABY GIRL: (Waving at Barry) - Hi, bee. (Barry smiles and waves at the baby girl) GUY IN BACK OF CAR: - He's back here! : He's going to sting me! GIRL IN CAR: Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! (Barry freezes as well, hovering in the middle of the car) : GRANDMA IN CAR== He blinked! (The grandma whips out some bee-spray and sprays everywhere in the car, climbing into the front seat, still trying to spray Barry) GIRL IN CAR: Spray him, Granny! DAD DRIVING THE CAR: What are you doing?! (Barry escapes the car through the air conditioner and is flying high above
the ground, safe.) BARRY: Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. (Barry sees that storm clouds are gathering and he can see rain clouds moving into this direction) : I gotta get home. : Can't fly in rain. : Can't fly in rain. (A rain drop hits Barry and one of his wings is damaged) : Can't fly in rain. (A second rain drop hits Barry again and he spirals downwards) Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! (WW2 plane sound effects are played as he plummets, and he crash-lands on a plant inside an apartment near the window) VANESSA BLOOME: Ken, could you close the window please? KEN== Hey, check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. : You see? (Folds brochure resume out) Folds out. (Ken closes the window, trapping Barry inside) BARRY: Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. (Barry tries to fly away but smashes into the window and falls again) : What was that?
(Barry keeps trying to fly out the window but he keeps being knocked back because the window is closed) Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... : Drapes! (Barry taps the glass. He doesn't understand what it is) That is diabolical. KEN: It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. ANDY: What's number one? Star Wars? KEN: Nah, I don't go for that... (Ken makes finger guns and makes "pew pew pew" sounds and then stops) : ...kind of stuff. BARRY: No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. KEN: When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. BARRY: (Looking at the light on the ceiling) There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. (Starts flying towards the lightbulb) : I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. (Barry hits the lightbulb and falls into the dip on the table that the humans are sitting at) KEN:
I predicted global warming. : I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. (Andy dips a chip into the bowl and scoops up some dip with Barry on it and is about to put it in his mouth) : Wait! Stop! Bee! (Andy drops the chip with Barry in fear and backs away. All the humans freak out) : Stand back. These are winter boots. (Ken has winter boots on his hands and he is about to smash the bee but Vanessa saves him last second) VANESSA: Wait! : Don't kill him! (Vanessa puts Barry in a glass to protect him) KEN: You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! VANESSA: Why does his life have less value than yours? KEN: Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? VANESSA: I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. (Vanessa picks up Ken's brochure and puts it under the glass so she can carry Barry back to the window. Barry looks at Vanessa in amazement) KEN:
My brochure! VANESSA: There you go, little guy. (Vanessa opens the window and lets Barry out but Barry stays back and is still shocked that a human saved his life) KEN: I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. VANESSA: Put that on your resume brochure. KEN: My whole face could puff up. ANDY: Make it one of your special skills. KEN: Knocking someone out is also a special skill. (Ken walks to the door) Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. : - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? VANESSA: - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. : (Vanessa tries to close door) KEN== - You could put carob chips on there. VANESSA: - Bye. (Closes door but Ken opens it again) KEN: - Supposed to be less calories.
VANESSA: - Bye. (Closes door) (Fast forward to the next day, Barry is still inside the house. He flies into the kitchen where Vanessa is doing dishes) BARRY== (Talking to himself) I gotta say something. : She saved my life. I gotta say something. : All right, here it goes. (Turns back) Nah. : What would I say? : I could really get in trouble. : It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. : I can't believe I'm doing this. : I've got to. (Barry disguises himself as a character on a food can as Vanessa walks by again) : Oh, I can't do it. Come on! : No. Yes. No. : Do it. I can't.
: How should I start it? (Barry strikes a pose and wiggles his eyebrows) "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. (Vanessa is about to walk past Barry) Here she comes! Speak, you fool! : ...Hi! (Vanessa gasps and drops the dishes in fright and notices Barry on the counter) : I'm sorry. VANESSA: - You're talking. BARRY: - Yes, I know. VANESSA: (Pointing at Barry) You're talking! BARRY: I'm so sorry. VANESSA: No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. : But I don't recall going to bed. BARRY: Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. VANESSA: This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee!
BARRY: I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, (Pointing to the living room where Ken tried to kill him last night) but they were all trying to kill me. : And if it wasn't for you... : I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. (Vanessa stabs her hand with a fork to test whether she's dreaming or not) : That was a little weird. VANESSA: - I'm talking with a bee. BARRY: - Yeah. VANESSA: I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! BARRY: I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. (Barry turns to leave) VANESSA: - Wait! How did you learn to do that? BARRY: (Flying back) - What? VANESSA: The talking...thing. BARRY:
Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. VANESSA: - That's very funny. BARRY: - Yeah. : Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. : Anyway... VANESSA: Can I... : ...get you something? BARRY: - Like what? VANESSA: I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Coffee? BARRY: I don't want to put you out. VANESSA: It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. : - It's just coffee. BARRY: - I hate to impose. (Vanessa starts making coffee) VANESSA: - Don't be ridiculous!
BARRY: - Actually, I would love a cup. VANESSA: Hey, you want rum cake? BARRY: - I shouldn't. VANESSA: - Have some. BARRY: - No, I can't. VANESSA: - Come on! BARRY: I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. VANESSA: - Where? BARRY: - These stripes don't help. VANESSA: You look great! BARRY: I don't know if you know anything about fashion. : Are you all right? VANESSA: (Pouring coffee on the floor and missing the cup completely) No. (Flash forward in time. Barry and Vanessa are sitting together at a table on top of the apartment building drinking coffee)
: BARRY== He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. : He finally gets there. : He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. : And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. : Why would I marry a watermelon?" (Barry laughs but Vanessa looks confused) VANESSA: Is that a bee joke? BARRY: That's the kind of stuff we do. VANESSA: Yeah, different. : So, what are you gonna do, Barry? (Barry stands on top of a sugar cube floating in his coffee and paddles it around with a straw like it's a gondola) BARRY: About work? I don't know. : I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. VANESSA: I know how you feel.
BARRY: - You do? VANESSA: - Sure. : My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. BARRY: - Really? VANESSA: - My only interest is flowers. BARRY: Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. : Anyway, if you look... (Barry points to a tree in the middle of Central Park) : There's my hive right there. See it? VANESSA: You're in Sheep Meadow! BARRY: Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! VANESSA: No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. BARRY: - Why do girls put rings on their toes? VANESSA: - Why not? BARRY:
ADAM: You did? Was she Bee-ish? : - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! BARRY: - No, no, no, not a wasp. ADAM: - Spider? BARRY: - I'm not attracted to spiders. : I know, for everyone else, it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. : I can't get by that face. ADAM: So who is she? BARRY: She's... human. ADAM: No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. BARRY: - Her name's Vanessa. (Adam puts his head in his hands) ADAM: - Oh, boy. BARRY== She's so nice. And she's a florist! ADAM: Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!
BARRY: We're not dating. ADAM: You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes : with power washers and M-80s! That's one-eighth a stick of dynamite! BARRY: She saved my life! And she understands me. ADAM: This is over! BARRY: Eat this. (Barry gives Adam a piece of the crumb that he got from Vanessa. Adam eats it) ADAM: (Adam's tone changes) This is not over! What was that? BARRY: - They call it a crumb. ADAM: - It was so stingin' stripey! BARRY: And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! : - You know what a Cinnabon is? ADAM: - No. (Adam opens a door behind him and he pulls Barry in)
BARRY: It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. ADAM: Be quiet! BARRY: They heat it up... ADAM: Sit down! (Adam forces Barry to sit down) BARRY: (Still rambling about Cinnabons) ...really hot! (Adam grabs Barry by the shoulders) ADAM: - Listen to me! : We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! BARRY== Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? ADAM: There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! : You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! BARRY: - Thinking bee. WORKER BEE: - Thinking bee. WORKER BEES AND ADAM: Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee! (Flash forward in time; Barry is laying on a raft in a pool full of honey. He is wearing sunglasses) JANET: There he is. He's in the pool. MARTIN: You know what your problem is, Barry? (Barry pulls down his sunglasses and he looks annoyed) BARRY: (Sarcastic) I gotta start thinking bee? JANET: How much longer will this go on? MARTIN: It's been three days! Why aren't you working? (Puts sunglasses back on) BARRY: I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. MARTIN: What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! JANET: Would it kill you to make a little honey? (Barry rolls off the raft and sinks into the honey pool) : Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. : Martin, would you talk to him? MARTIN:
Barry, I'm talking to you! (Barry keeps sinking into the honey until he is suddenly in Central Park having a picnic with Vanessa) (Barry has a cup of honey and he clinks his glass with Vanessas. Suddenly a mosquito lands on Vanessa and she slaps it, killing it. They both gasp but then burst out laughing) VANESSA: You coming? (The camera pans over and Vanessa is climbing into a small yellow airplane) BARRY: Got everything? VANESSA: All set! BARRY: Go ahead. I'll catch up. (Vanessa lifts off and flies ahead) VANESSA: Don't be too long. (Barry catches up with Vanessa and he sticks out his arms like ana irplane. He rolls from side to side, and Vanessa copies him with the airplane) VANESSA: Watch this! (Barry stays back and watches as Vanessa draws a heart in the air using pink smoke from the plane, but on the last loop-the-loop she suddenly crashes into a mountain and the plane explodes. The destroyed plane falls into some rocks and explodes a second time) BARRY: Vanessa! (As Barry is yelling his mouth fills with honey and he wakes up, discovering that he was just day dreaming. He slowly sinks back into the honey pool) MARTIN: - We're still here.
JANET: - I told you not to yell at him. : He doesn't respond to yelling! MARTIN: - Then why yell at me? JANET: - Because you don't listen! MARTIN: I'm not listening to this. BARRY: Sorry, I've gotta go. MARTIN: - Where are you going? BARRY: - I'm meeting a friend. JANET: A girl? Is this why you can't decide? BARRY: Bye. (Barry flies out the door and Martin shakes his head) : JANET== I just hope she's Bee-ish. (Fast forward in time and Barry is sitting on Vanessa's shoulder and she is closing up her shop) BARRY: They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? VANESSA: To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream!
: Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. BARRY: A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? VANESSA: No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? BARRY: It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. VANESSA: Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. BARRY: TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! VANESSA: You don't have that? BARRY: We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. VANESSA: Oh, my. (A human walks by and Barry narrowly avoids him) PASSERBY: Dumb bees! VANESSA: You must want to sting all those jerks. BARRY: We try not to sting.
It's usually fatal for us. VANESSA: So you have to watch your temper (They walk into a store) BARRY: Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, : write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: : Anger, jealousy, lust. (Suddenly an employee(Hector) hits Barry off of Vanessa's shoulder. Hector thinks he's saving Vanessa) VANESSA: (To Barry) Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? (Barry is getting up off the floor) BARRY: Yeah. VANESSA: (To Hector) - What is wrong with you?! HECTOR: (Confused) - It's a bug. VANESSA: He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! (Vanessa hits Hector across the face with the magazine he had and then hits him in the head. Hector backs away covering his head) Barry: What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? (Vanessa sets Barry back on her shoulder)
VANESSA: Yeah, it was. How did you know? BARRY: It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. VANESSA: You've really got that down to a science. BARRY: - Oh, we have to. I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. VANESSA: - I'll bet. (Barry looks to his right and notices there is honey for sale in the aisle) BARRY: What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? (Barry looks at all the brands of honey, shocked) How did this get here? Cute Bee, Golden Blossom, : Ray Liotta Private Select? (Barry puts his hands up and slowly turns around, a look of disgust on his face) VANESSA: - Is he that actor? BARRY: - I never heard of him. : - Why is this here? VANESSA: - For people. We eat it. BARRY:
You don't have enough food of your own?! (Hector looks back and notices that Vanessa is talking to Barry) VANESSA: - Well, yes. BARRY: - How do you get it? VANESSA: - Bees make it. BARRY: - I know who makes it! : And it's hard to make it! : There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! VANESSA: - It's organic. BARRY: - It's our-ganic! VANESSA: It's just honey, Barry. BARRY: Just what?! : Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! : You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! :
And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. : I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! (Flash forward in time; Barry paints his face with black strikes like a soldier and sneaks into the storage section of the store) (Two men, including Hector, are loading boxes into some trucks) : SUPERMARKET EMPLOYEE== Hey, Hector. : - You almost done? HECTOR: - Almost. (Barry takes a step to peak around the corner) (Whispering) He is here. I sense it. : Well, I guess I'll go home now (Hector pretends to walk away by walking in place and speaking loudly) : and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. BARRY: You're busted, box boy! HECTOR: I knew I heard something! So you can talk! BARRY: I can talk. And now you'll start talking! : Where you getting the sweet stuff?
Who's your supplier? HECTOR: I don't understand. I thought we were friends. : The last thing we want to do is upset bees! (Hector takes a thumbtack out of the board behind him and sword-fights Barry. Barry is using his stinger like a sword) : You're too late! It's ours now! BARRY: You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! HECTOR: You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! (Barry hits the thumbtack out of Hectors hand and Hector surrenders) Barry: Where is the honey coming from? : Tell me where! HECTOR: (Pointing to leaving truck) Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! (Barry chases after the truck but it is getting away. He flies onto a bicyclists' backpack and he catches up to the truck) CAR DRIVER: (To bicyclist) Crazy person! (Barry flies off and lands on the windshield of the Honey farms truck. Barry looks around and sees dead bugs splattered everywhere) BARRY: What horrible thing has happened here?
: These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now : they're on the road to nowhere! (Barry hears a sudden whisper) (Barry looks up and sees Mooseblood, a mosquito playing dead) MOOSEBLOOD: Just keep still. BARRY: What? You're not dead? MOOSEBLOOD: Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? BARRY: To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. MOOSEBLOOD: I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! ANOTHER BUG PLAYING DEAD: I'm going to Tacoma. (Barry looks at another bug) BARRY: - And you? MOOSEBLOOD: - He really is dead. BARRY: All right. (Another bug hits the windshield and the drivers notice. They activate the windshield wipers) MOOSEBLOOD== Uh-oh! (The windshield wipers are slowly sliding over the dead bugs and wiping
them off) BARRY: - What is that?! MOOSEBLOOD: - Oh, no! : - A wiper! Triple blade! BARRY: - Triple blade? MOOSEBLOOD: Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! (Mooseblood and Barry grab onto the wiper and they hold on as it wipes the windshield) Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! : How much do you people need to see?! (Bangs on windshield) : Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! RADIO IN TRUCK: From NPR News in Washington, I'm Carl Kasell. MOOSEBLOOD: But don't kill no more bugs! (Mooseblood and Barry are washed off by the wipr fluid) MOOSEBLOOD: - Bee! BARRY: - Moose blood guy!! (Barry starts screaming as he hangs onto the antenna) (Suddenly it is revealed that a water bug is also hanging on the antenna.
There is a pause and then Barry and the water bug both start screaming) TRUCK DRIVER: - You hear something? GUY IN TRUCK: - Like what? TRUCK DRIVER: Like tiny screaming. GUY IN TRUCK: Turn off the radio. (The antenna starts to lower until it gets to low and sinks into the truck. The water bug flies off and Barry is forced to let go and he is blown away. He luckily lands inside a horn on top of the truck where he finds Mooseblood, who was blown into the same place) MOOSEBLOOD: Whassup, bee boy? BARRY: Hey, Blood. (Fast forward in time and we see that Barry is deep in conversation with Mooseblood. They have been sitting in this truck for a while) BARRY: ...Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. MOOSEBLOOD: Wow! BARRY: I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. : I mean, that honey's ours. MOOSEBLOOD: - Bees hang tight. BARRY:
BEEKEEPER #2: They make the honey, and we make the money. BARRY: "They make the honey, and we make the money"? (The Beekeeper sprays hundreds of cheap miniature apartments with the smoker. The bees are fainting or passing out) Oh, my! : What's going on? Are you OK? (Barry flies into one of the apartment and helps a Bee couple get off the ground. They are coughing and its hard for them to stand) BEE IN APARTMENT: Yeah. It doesn't last too long. BARRY: Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? BEE IN APPARTMENT: Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. (The apartment room is completely empty except for a photo on the wall of the "queen" who is obviously a man in women's clothes) BARRY: This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! : That's a drag queen! : What is this? (Barry flies out and he discovers that there are hundreds of these structures, each housing thousands of Bees) Oh, no! : There's hundreds of them! (Barry takes out his camera and takes pictures of these Bee work camps. The beekeepers look very evil in these depictions)
Bee honey. : Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! : This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. (Flash forward in time and Barry is showing these pictures to his parents) JANET: Oh, Barry, stop. MARTIN: Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. BARRY: Do these look like rumors? (Holds up the pictures) UNCLE CARL: That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. JANET: How did you get mixed up in this? ADAM: He's been talking to humans. JANET: - What? MARTIN: - Talking to humans?! ADAM: He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! JANET: Make out? Barry!
BARRY: We do not. ADAM: - You wish you could. MARTIN: - Whose side are you on? BARRY: The bees! UNCLE CARL: (He has been sitting in the back of the room this entire time) I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. JANET: Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? BARRY: I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! : Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked : your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. JANET: I remember that. BARRY: What right do they have to our honey? : We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!
ADAM: Even if it's true, what can one bee do? BARRY: Sting them where it really hurts. MARTIN: In the face! The eye! : - That would hurt. BARRY: - No. MARTIN: Up the nose? That's a killer. BARRY: There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. (Flash forward a bit in time and we are watching the Bee News) BEE NEWS NARRATOR: Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. BEE PROTESTOR: No more bee beards! BEE NEWS NARRATOR: With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. : Weather with Storm Stinger. : Sports with Buzz Larvi. : And Jeanette Chung. BOB BUMBLE: - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. JEANETTE CHUNG:
Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. KEN: But it's our yogurt night! VANESSA: (Holding door open for Ken) Bye-bye. KEN: (Yelling) Why is yogurt night so difficult?! (Ken leaves and Vanessa walks over to Barry. His workplace is a mess) VANESSA: You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! BARRY: Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. ADAM: - Frosting... - How many sugars? ==BARRY== Just one. I try not to use the competition. : So why are you helping me? VANESSA: Bees have good qualities. : And it takes my mind off the shop. : Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. BARRY:
Those are great, if you're three. VANESSA: And artificial flowers. BARRY: - Oh, those just get me psychotic! VANESSA: - Yeah, me too. : BARRY: Bent stingers, pointless pollination. ADAM: Bees must hate those fake things! : Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. : Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. VANESSA: - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. BARRY: - I guess. ADAM: You sure you want to go through with it? BARRY: Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able : to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! (Flash forward in time and we are watching the human news. The camera shows
a crowd outside a courthouse) NEWS REPORTER: It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, : where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, : we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. (We are no longer watching through a news camera) ADAM: What have we gotten into here, Barry? BARRY: It's pretty big, isn't it? ADAM== (Looking at the hundreds of people around the courthouse) I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. BARRY: You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? SECURITY GUARD: Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. (A limousine drives up and a fat man,Layton Montgomery, a honey industry owner gets out and walks past Barry) ADAM: - What's the matter? BARRY: - I don't know, I just got a chill. (Fast forward in time and everyone is in the court) MONTGOMERY: Well, if it isn't the bee team.
(To Honey Industry lawyers) You boys work on this? MAN: All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. JUDGE BUMBLETON: All right. Case number 4475, : Superior Court of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry : is now in session. : Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? MONTGOMERY: A privilege. JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? (Everyone looks closely, they are waiting to see if a Bee can really talk) (Barry makes several buzzing sounds to sound like a Bee) BARRY: I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. JUDGE BUMBLBETON: Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. MONTGOMERY: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, : my grandmother was a simple woman. :
Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right : to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. : If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, : just think of what would it mean. : I would have to negotiate with the silkworm : for the elastic in my britches! : Talking bee! (Montgomery walks over and looks closely at Barry) : How do we know this isn't some sort of : holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? : They could be using laser beams! : Robotics! Ventriloquism! Cloning! For all we know, : he could be on steroids! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Benson?
BARRY: Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. : I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. : It's important to all bees. We invented it! : We make it. And we protect it with our lives. : Unfortunately, there are some people in this room : who think they can take it from us : 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, : you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have : but everything we are! JANET== (To Martin) I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Call your first witness. BARRY: So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden
of Honey Farms, big company you have. KLAUSS VANDERHAYDEN: I suppose so. BARRY: I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! KLAUSS: Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. BARRY: Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. : I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? KLAUSS: (Quietly) - No. BARRY: - I couldn't hear you. KLAUSS: - No. BARRY: - No. : Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, : it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. KLAUSS: They're very lovable creatures.
: Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. BARRY: You mean like this? (The bear from Over The Hedge barges in through the back door and it is roaring and standing on its hind legs. It is thrashing its claws and people are screaming. It is being held back by a guard who has the bear on a chain) : (Pointing to the roaring bear) Bears kill bees! : How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! : Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! JUDGE BUMBLETON: OK, that's enough. Take him away. (The bear stops roaring and thrashing and walks out) BARRY: So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. : - Where have I heard it before? MR. STING: - I was with a band called The Police. BARRY: But you've never been a police officer, have you? STING: No, I haven't. BARRY:
No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example : of bee culture casually stolen by a human : for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. STING: Oh, please. BARRY: Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? : Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. : Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! MONTGOMERY: That's not his real name?! You idiots! BARRY: Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on : your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. RAY LIOTTA: Thank you. Thank you. BARRY: I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome : with a churning inner turmoil
that's ready to blow. RAY LIOTTA: I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? BARRY: Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? : Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't : have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? RAY LIOTTA: Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! BARRY: This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! (Ray Liotta looses it and tries to grab Barry) RAY LIOTTA: Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! JUDGE BUMBLETON: - Order in this court! RAY LIOTTA: - You're all thinking it! (Judge Bumbleton starts banging her gavel) JUDGE BUMBLETON: Order! Order, I say! RAY LIOTTA: - Say it! MAN:
KEN: Do we? BARRY: Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. KEN: (Menacingly) That's just what I was thinking about doing. (Ken reaches for a fork on the table but knocks if on the floor. He goes to pick it up) VANESSA: Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. (Ken quickly rises back up after hearing this but hits his head on the table and yells) BARRY: I'm going to drain the old stinger. KEN: Yeah, you do that. (Barry flies past Ken to get to the bathroom and Ken freaks out, splashing some of the wine he was using to cool his head in his eyes. He yells in anger) (Barry looks at the magazines featuring his victories in court) BARRY: Look at that. (Barry flies into the bathroom) (He puts his hand on his head but this makes hurts him and makes him even madder. He yells again) (Barry is washing his hands in the sink but then Ken walks in) KEN: You know, you know I've just about had it (Closes bathroom door behind him) with your little mind games. (Ken is menacingly rolling up a magazine) BARRY:
(Backing away) - What's that? KEN: - Italian Vogue. BARRY: Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. KEN: It's a lot of ads. BARRY: Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? KEN: That's funny, I just can't seem to recall that! (Ken smashes everything off the sink with the magazine and Barry narrowly escapes) (Ken follows Barry around and tries to hit him with the magazine but he keeps missing) (Ken gets a spray bottle) : I think something stinks in here! BARRY: (Enjoying the spray) I love the smell of flowers. (Ken holds a lighter in front of the spray bottle) KEN: How do you like the smell of flames?! BARRY: Not as much. (Ken fires his make-shift flamethrower but misses Barry, burning the bathroom. He torches the whole room but looses his footing and falls into the bathtub. After getting hit in the head by falling objects 3 times he picks up the shower head, revealing a Water bug hiding under it) WATER BUG: Water bug! Not taking sides!
(Barry gets up out of a pile of bathroom supplies and he is wearing a chapstick hat) BARRY: Ken, I'm wearing a Chapstick hat! This is pathetic! (Ken switches the shower head to lethal) KEN: I've got issues! (Ken sprays Barry with the shower head and he crash lands into the toilet) (Ken menacingly looks down into the toilet at Barry) Well, well, well, a royal flush! BARRY: - You're bluffing. KEN: - Am I? (flushes toilet) (Barry grabs a chapstick from the toilet seat and uses it to surf in the flushing toilet) BARRY: Surf's up, dude! (Barry flies out of the toilet on the chapstick and sprays Ken's face with the toilet water) : EW,Poo water! BARRY: That bowl is gnarly. KEN: (Aiming a toilet cleaner at Barry) Except for those dirty yellow rings! (Barry cowers and covers his head and Vanessa runs in and takes the toilet cleaner from Ken just before he hits Barry) VANESSA: Kenneth! What are you doing?! KEN== (Leaning towards Barry)
You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! VANESSA: We need to talk! (Vanessa pulls Ken out of the bathroom) : He's just a little bee! : And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! KEN: Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? VANESSA: No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! KEN: Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... : My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! VANESSA: Goodbye, Ken. (Ken huffs and walks out and slams the door. But suddenly he walks back in and stares at Barry) : And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners MADE BY MAN! (Ken leaves again and Vanessa leans in towards Barry) VANESSA: I'm sorry about all that. (Ken walks back in again)
KEN: I know it's got an aftertaste! I LIKE IT! (Ken leaves for the last time) VANESSA: I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. : I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. : Are you OK for the trial? BARRY: I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. (Flash forward in time and Barry, Adam, and Vanessa are back in court) MONTGOMERY-- We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. ADAM: Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... (Barry stares at Adam) ...Yeah. LAWYER: Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. MONTGOMERY: Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around : is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. (To lawyer)
: Order, please! (Flash forward in time and we see a human news reporter) NEWS REPORTER: The case of the honeybees versus the human race : took a pointed turn against the bees : yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. (Adam is laying in a hospital bed and Barry flies in to see him) BARRY: - Hey, buddy. ADAM: - Hey. BARRY: - Is there much pain? ADAM: - Yeah. : I... : I blew the whole case, didn't I? BARRY: It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. ADAM: I'd be better off dead. Look at me. (A small plastic sword is replaced as Adam's stinger) They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.
: Look, there's a little celery still on it. (Flicks off the celery and sighs) BARRY: What was it like to sting someone? ADAM: I can't explain it. It was all... : All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! BARRY: ...All right. ADAM: You think it was all a trap? BARRY: Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. : What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. ADAM: What will the humans do to us if they win? BARRY: I don't know. ADAM: I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. BARRY: Adam, they check in, but they don't check out!
ADAM: Oh, my. (Coughs) Could you get a nurse to close that window? BARRY: - Why? ADAM: - The smoke. (We can see that two humans are smoking cigarettes outside) : Bees don't smoke. BARRY: Right. Bees don't smoke. : Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. : That's it! That's our case! ADAM: It is? It's not over? BARRY: Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. : Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. (Flash forward in time and Adam is making a paper boat in the courtroom) ADAM: And assuming you've done step 29 correctly, you're ready for the tub! (We see that the jury have each made their own paper boats after being taught how by Adam. They all look confused) JUDGE BUMBLETON:
Mr. Flayman. ADAM: Yes? Yes, Your Honor! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Where is the rest of your team? ADAM: (Continues stalling) Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. : Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, : and as a result, we don't make very good time. : I actually heard a funny story about... MONTGOMERY: Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs : taken up enough of this court's valuable time? : How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? : They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges : against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. : I move for a complete dismissal
of this entire case! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going : to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. ADAM: But you can't! We have a terrific case. MONTGOMERY: Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? : Show me the smoking gun! BARRY: (Barry flies in through the door) Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? : Here is your smoking gun. (Vanessa walks in holding a bee smoker. She sets it down on the Judge's podium) JUDGE BUMBLETON: What is that? BARRY: It's a bee smoker! MONTGOMERY: (Picks up smoker) What, this? This harmless little contraption? : This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. (Montgomery accidentally fires it at the bees in the crowd and they faint
and cough) (Dozens of reporters start taking pictures of the suffering bees) BARRY: Look at what has happened : to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" : Is this what nature intended for us? : To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines : and man-made wooden slat work camps? : Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? (Barry points to the honey industry owners. One of them is an African American so he awkwardly separates himself from the others) LAWYER: - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. BARRY: Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! ADAM AND VANESSA: Free the bees! Free the bees! BEES IN CROWD: Free the bees! HUMAN JURY: Free the bees! Free the bees! JUDGE BUMBLETON: The court finds in favor of the bees!
BARRY: Vanessa, we won! VANESSA: I knew you could do it! High-five! (Vanessa hits Barry hard because her hand is too big) : Sorry. BARRY: (Overjoyed) I'm OK! You know what this means? : All the honey will finally belong to the bees. : Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. MONTGOMERY: This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. : You'll regret this. (Montgomery leaves and Barry goes outside the courtroom. Several reporters start asking Barry questions) REPORTER 1#: Barry, how much honey is out there? BARRY: All right. One at a time. REPORTER 2#: Barry, who are you wearing? BARRY: My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants.
(Barry flies outside with the paparazzi and Adam and Vanessa stay back) ADAM: (To Vanessa) - What if Montgomery's right? Vanessa: - What do you mean? ADAM: We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. (Flash forward in time and Barry is talking to a man) BUSINESS MAN: Congratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? BARRY: First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. (As Barry is talking we see a montage of men putting "closed" tape over the work camps and freeing the bees in the crappy apartments) Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, : every last drop. (Men in suits are pushing all the honey of the aisle and into carts) We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more (We see a statue of a bear-shaped honey container being pulled down by bees) than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. : We're all aware of what they do in the woods. (We see Winnie the Pooh sharing his honey with Piglet in the cross-hairs of a high-tech sniper rifle) BARRY: (Looking through binoculars)
Wait for my signal. : Take him out. (Winnie gets hit by a tranquilizer dart and dramatically falls off the log he was standing on, his tongue hanging out. Piglet looks at Pooh in fear and the Sniper takes the honey.) SNIPER: He'll have nausea for a few hours, then he'll be fine. (Flash forward in time) BARRY: And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... (Mr. Sting is sitting at home until he is taken out of his house by the men in suits) STING: But it's just a prance-about stage name! BARRY: ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products : and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. (An old lady is mixing honey into her tea but suddenly men in suits smash her face down on the table and take the honey) OLD LADY: Can't breathe. (A honey truck pulls up to Barry's hive) WORKER: Bring it in, boys! : Hold it right there! Good. : Tap it.
(Tons of honey is being pumped into the hive's storage) BEE WORKER 1#: (Honey overflows from the cup) Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! : - I think we need to shut down! =BEE WORKER #2= - Shut down? We've never shut down. : Shut down honey production! DEAN BUZZWELL: Stop making honey! (The bees all leave their stations. Two bees run into a room and they put the keys into a machine) Turn your key, sir! (Two worker bees dramatically turn their keys, which opens the button which they press, shutting down the honey-making machines. This is the first time this has ever happened) BEE: ...What do we do now? (Flash forward in time and a Bee is about to jump into a pool full of honey) Cannonball! (The bee gets stuck in the honey and we get a short montage of Bees leaving work) (We see the Pollen Jocks flying but one of them gets a call on his antenna) LOU LU DUVA: (Through "phone") We're shutting honey production! : Mission abort. POLLEN JOCK #1: Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. (The Pollen Jocks fly back to the hive)
(We get a time lapse of Central Park slowly wilting away as the bees all relax) BARRY: Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. ADAM: Oh, yeah? BARRY: What's going on? Where is everybody? (The entire street is deserted) : - Are they out celebrating? ADAM: - They're home. : They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. : I heard your Uncle Carl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. BARRY: At least we got our honey back. ADAM: Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? : It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. : This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. :
And now... : Now I can't. (Flash forward in time and Barry is talking to Vanessa) BARRY: I don't understand why they're not happy. : I thought their lives would be better! : They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. VANESSA: You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? BARRY: - What did you want to show me? (Vanessa takes Barry to the rooftop where they first had coffee and points to her store) VANESSA: - This. (Points at her flowers. They are all grey and wilting) BARRY: What happened here? VANESSA: That is not the half of it. (Small flash forward in time and Vanessa and Barry are on the roof of her store and she points to Central Park) (We see that Central Park is no longer green and colorful, rather it is grey, brown, and dead-like. It is very depressing to look at) BARRY: Oh, no. Oh, my. :
They're all wilting. VANESSA: Doesn't look very good, does it? BARRY: No. VANESSA: And whose fault do you think that is? BARRY: You know, I'm gonna guess bees. VANESSA== (Staring at Barry) Bees? BARRY: Specifically, me. : I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. VANESSA: It's not just flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. BARRY: That's our whole SAT test right there. VANESSA: Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. : And then, of course... BARRY: The human species? : So if there's no more pollination,
: it could all just go south here, couldn't it? VANESSA: I know this is also partly my fault. BARRY: How about a suicide pact? VANESSA: How do we do it? BARRY: - I'll sting you, you step on me. VANESSA: - That just kills you twice. BARRY: Right, right. VANESSA: Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. (Vanessa leaves) BARRY: (To himself) I had to open my mouth and talk. : Vanessa? : Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? (Vanessa is getting into a taxi) VANESSA: To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. :
They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. : It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. BARRY: Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. VANESSA: I know. Me neither. (The taxi starts to drive away) BARRY: Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. : Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? : Roses! : Vanessa! (Barry flies after the Taxi) VANESSA: Roses?! : Barry? (Barry is flying outside the window of the taxi) BARRY: - Roses are flowers! VANESSA: - Yes, they are. BARRY: Flowers, bees, pollen!
VANESSA: I know. That's why this is the last parade. BARRY: Maybe not. Could you ask him to slow down? VANESSA: Could you slow down? (The taxi driver screeches to a stop and Barry keeps flying forward) : Barry! (Barry flies back to the window) BARRY: OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. VANESSA: Yes, it kind of is. BARRY: I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you : with the flower shop. I've made it worse. VANESSA: Actually, it's completely closed down. BARRY: I thought maybe you were remodeling. : But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. VANESSA: I don't want to hear it!
BARRY: All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. : I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. : All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. : - Bees. VANESSA: - Park. BARRY: - Pollen! VANESSA: - Flowers. BARRY: - Re-pollination! VANESSA: - Across the nation! : Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. : They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. : Security will be tight. BARRY: I have an idea.
(Flash forward in time. Vanessa is about to board a plane which has all the Roses on board. VANESSA: Vanessa Bloome, FTD. (Holds out badge) : Official floral business. It's real. SECURITY GUARD: Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. =VANESSA== Thank you. It was a gift. (Barry is revealed to be hiding inside the brooch) (Flash back in time and Barry and Vanessa are discussing their plan) BARRY: Once inside, we just pick the right float. VANESSA: How about The Princess and the Pea? : I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! BARRY: Yes, I got it. : - Where should I sit? GUARD: - What are you? BARRY: - I believe I'm the pea. GUARD: - The pea? VANESSA:
It goes under the mattresses. GUARD: - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. VANESSA: You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! : Let's see what this baby'll do. (Vanessa drives the float through traffic) GUARD: Hey, what are you doing?! BARRY== Then all we do is blend in with traffic... : ...without arousing suspicion. : Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. (Flash forward in time and Barry and Vanessa are about to get on a plane) SECURITY GUARD: Stop! Security. : - You and your insect pack your float? VANESSA: - Yes. SECURITY GUARD: Has it been in your possession the entire time? VANESSA: - Yes.
SECURITY GUARD: Would you remove your shoes? (To Barry) - Remove your stinger. BARRY: - It's part of me. SECURITY GUARD: I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. (Barry plotting with Vanessa) BARRY: Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. (Flash forward in time and Barry and Vanessa are flying on the plane) Can you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! VANESSA: I think this is gonna work. BARRY: It's got to work. CAPTAIN SCOTT: (On intercom) Attention, passengers, this is Captain Scott. : We have a bit of bad weather in New York. : It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. VANESSA: Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. BARRY:
I gotta get up there and talk to them. VANESSA== Be careful. (Barry flies right outside the cockpit door) BARRY: Can I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. (The flight attendant opens the door and walks out and Barry flies into the cockpit unseen) BARRY: Captain, I'm in a real situation. CAPTAIN SCOTT: - What'd you say, Hal? CO-PILOT HAL: - Nothing. (Scott notices Barry and freaks out) CAPTAIN SCOTT: Bee! BARRY: No,no,no, Don't freak out! My entire species... (Captain Scott gets out of his seat and tries to suck Barry into a handheld vacuum) HAL: (To Scott) What are you doing? (Barry lands on Hals hair but Scott sees him. He tries to suck up Barry but instead he sucks up Hals toupee) CAPTAIN SCOTT: Uh-oh. BARRY: - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney!
HAL: (Hal doesn't know Barry is on his head) - Who's an attorney? CAPTAIN SCOTT: Don't move. (Scott hits Hal in the face with the vacuum in an attempt to hit Barry. Hal is knocked out and he falls on the life raft button which launches an infalatable boat into Scott, who gets knocked out and falls to the floor. They are both uncounscious.) BARRY: (To himself) Oh, Barry. BARRY: (On intercom, with a Southern accent) Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. : Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? (Vanessa looks confused) (Normal accent) ...And please hurry! (Vanessa opens the door and sees the life raft and the uncounscious pilots) VANESSA: What happened here? BARRY: I tried to talk to them, but then there was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. : Now one's bald, one's in a boat, and they're both unconscious! VANESSA: ...Is that another bee joke? BARRY:
REPORTER: (Talking with Bob Bumble) We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls : with absolutely no flight experience. BOB BUMBLE: Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. BUD: I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. : They've done enough damage. REPORTER: But isn't he your only hope? BUD: Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. : Their wings are too small... BARRY: (Through radio) Haven't we heard this a million times? : "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense."... BOB BUMBLE: - Get this on the air! BEE: - Got it.
BEE NEWS CREW: - Stand by. BEE NEWS CREW: - We're going live! BARRY: (Through radio on TV) ...The way we work may be a mystery to you. : Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. : But let me tell you about a small job. : If you do it well, it makes a big difference. : More than we realized. To us, to everyone. : That's why I want to get bees back to working together. : That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. : We get behind a fellow. : - Black and yellow! BEES: - Hello! (The scene switches and Barry is teaching Vanessa how to fly) BARRY:
Left, right, down, hover. VANESSA: - Hover? BARRY: - Forget hover. VANESSA: This isn't so hard. (Pretending to honk the horn) Beep-beep! Beep-beep! (A Lightning bolt hits the plane and autopilot turns off) Barry, what happened?! BARRY: Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. VANESSA: - That may have been helping me. BARRY: - And now we're not! VANESSA: So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. (The plane plummets but we see Lou Lu Duva and the Pollen Jocks, along with multiple other bees flying towards the plane) Lou Lu DUva: All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! : Move out! (The scene switches back to Vanessa and Barry in the plane) BARRY: Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! (Barry sticks out his arms like an airplane and flys in front of Vanessa's face)
VANESSA: Don't have to yell. BARRY: I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. VANESSA: It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! BARRY: It's not a tone. I'm panicking! VANESSA: I can't do this! (Barry slaps Vanessa) BARRY: Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! VANESSA: (Slaps Barry) You snap out of it. BARRY: (Slaps Vanessa) : You snap out of it. VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! (We see that all the Pollen Jocks are flying under the plane) VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it!
VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! VANESSA: - Hold it! BARRY: - Why? Come on, it's my turn. VANESSA: How is the plane flying? (The plane is now safely flying) VANESSA: I don't know. (Barry's antennae rings like a phone. Barry picks up) BARRY: Hello? LOU LU DUVA: (Through "phone") Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? (All of the Pollen Jocks are carrying the plane) BARRY: The Pollen Jocks! : They do get behind a fellow. LOU LU DUVA: - Black and yellow. POLLEN JOCKS: - Hello. LOU LU DUVA: All right, let's drop this tin can
on the blacktop. BARRY: Where? I can't see anything. Can you? VANESSA: No, nothing. It's all cloudy. : Come on. You got to think bee, Barry. BARRY: - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. (On the runway there are millions of bees laying on their backs) BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! BARRY: Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. VANESSA: - What? BARRY: - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. : Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. : Bring the nose down. BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! CONTROL TOWER OPERATOR: - What in the world is on the tarmac? BUD: - Get some lights on that!
(It is revealed that all the bees are organized into a giant pulsating flower formation) BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! BARRY: - Vanessa, aim for the flower. VANESSA: - OK. BARRY: Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? LOU LU DUVA: Affirmative! BARRY: Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. : Land on that flower! : Ready? Full reverse! : Spin it around! (The plane's nose is pointed at a flower painted on a nearby plane) - Not that flower! The other one! VANESSA: - Which one? BARRY: - That flower. (The plane is now pointed at a fat guy in a flowered shirt. He freaks out and tries to take a picture of the plane) VANESSA: - I'm aiming at the flower!
BARRY: That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! (The plane hovers over the bee-flower) : Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. : Rotate around it. VANESSA: - This is insane, Barry! BARRY: - This's the only way I know how to fly. BUD: Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? (The plane is unrealistically hovering and spinning over the bee-flower) BARRY: Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! : Just drop it. Be a part of it. : Aim for the center! : Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! : Come on, already. (The bees scatter and the plane safely lands) VANESSA: Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly!
BARRY: - Yes! (Vanessa is about to high-five Barry) No high-five! VANESSA: - Right. ADAM: Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? BARRY: What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! ADAM: - Thank you. BARRY: - But we're not done yet. : Listen, everyone! : This runway is covered with the last pollen : from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. : That means this is our last chance. : We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. : If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say?
: Are we going to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains? BEES: We're bees! BEE WHO LIKES KEYCHAINS: Keychain! BARRY: Then follow me! Except Keychain. POLLEN JOCK #1: Hold on, Barry. Here. : You've earned this. BARRY: Yeah! : I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. (The Pollen Jocks throw Barry a nectar-collecting gun. Barry catches it) Oh, yeah. JANET: That's our Barry. (Barry and the Pollen Jocks get pollen from the flowers on the plane) (Flash forward in time and the Pollen Jocks are flying over NYC) : (Barry pollinates the flowers in Vanessa's shop and then heads to Central Park) BOY IN PARK: Mom! The bees are back! ADAM: (Putting on his Krelman hat) If anybody needs
to make a call, now's the time. : I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! (The bee honey factories are back up and running) (Meanwhile at Vanessa's shop) VANESSA: (To customer) Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Can I help who's next? : Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. (There is a room in the shop where Barry does legal work for other animals. He is currently talking with a Cow) COW: Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! : Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! BARRY: I had no idea. VANESSA: Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? BARRY: Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. MOOSEBLOOD: Sorry I'm late. COW: He's a lawyer too?
MOOSEBLOOD: Ma'am, I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. VANESSA: Have a great afternoon! : Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. BARRY: No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. VANESSA: You're a lifesaver, Barry. Can I help who's next? BARRY: All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. VANESSA: Thank you, Barry! (Ken walks by on the sidewalk and sees the "bee-approved honey" in Vanessa's shop) KEN: That bee is living my life!! ANDY: Let it go, Kenny. KEN: - When will this nightmare end?! ANDY: - Let it all go. BARRY: - Beautiful day to fly. POLLEN JOCK:
submitted by sandwich_with_a_hat to bees [link] [comments]
(Through phone) - Barry? BARRY: - Adam? ADAM: - Can you believe this is happening? BARRY: - I can't. I'll pick you up. (Barry flies down the stairs) : MARTIN BENSON: Looking sharp. JANET: Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. BARRY: Sorry. I'm excited. MARTIN: Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. : A perfect report card, all B's. JANET: Very proud. (Rubs Barry's hair) BARRY= Ma! I got a thing going here. JANET: - You got lint on your fuzz. BARRY: - Ow! That's me!
JANET: - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! (Barry flies out the door) JANET: Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! (Barry drives through the hive,and is waved at by Adam who is reading a newspaper) BARRY== - Hey, Adam. ADAM: - Hey, Barry. (Adam gets in Barry's car) : - Is that fuzz gel? BARRY: - A little. Special day, graduation. ADAM: Never thought I'd make it. (Barry pulls away from the house and continues driving) BARRY: Three days grade school, three days high school... ADAM: Those were awkward. BARRY: Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. ADAM== You did come back different. (Barry and Adam pass by Artie, who is jogging) ARTIE: - Hi, Barry!
BARRY: - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. ADAM: - Hear about Frankie? BARRY: - Yeah. ADAM== - You going to the funeral? BARRY: - No, I'm not going to his funeral. : Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. : Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. ADAM: I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. (The car does a barrel roll on the loop-shaped bridge and lands on the highway) : I love this incorporating an amusement park into our regular day. BARRY: I guess that's why they say we don't need vacations. (Barry parallel parks the car and together they fly over the graduating students) Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. (Barry and Adam sit down and put on their hats) : - Well, Adam, today we are men.
ADAM: - We are! BARRY= - Bee-men. =ADAM= - Amen! BARRY AND ADAM: Hallelujah! (Barry and Adam both have a happy spasm) ANNOUNCER: Students, faculty, distinguished bees, : please welcome Dean Buzzwell. DEAN BUZZWELL: Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... : ...9: : That concludes our ceremonies. : And begins your career at Honex Industries! ADAM: Will we pick our job today? (Adam and Barry get into a tour bus) BARRY= I heard it's just orientation. (Tour buses rise out of the ground and the students are automatically loaded into the buses) TOUR GUIDE: Heads up! Here we go.
ANNOUNCER: Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. BARRY: - Wonder what it'll be like? ADAM: - A little scary. TOUR GUIDE== Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco : and a part of the Hexagon Group. Barry: This is it! BARRY AND ADAM: Wow. BARRY: Wow. (The bus drives down a road an on either side are the Bee's massive complicated Honey-making machines) TOUR GUIDE: We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life : to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. : Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. : Our top-secret formula : is automatically color-corrected,
scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured : into this soothing sweet syrup : with its distinctive golden glow you know as... EVERYONE ON BUS: Honey! (The guide has been collecting honey into a bottle and she throws it into the crowd on the bus and it is caught by a girl in the back) ADAM: - That girl was hot. BARRY: - She's my cousin! ADAM== - She is? BARRY: - Yes, we're all cousins. ADAM: - Right. You're right. TOUR GUIDE: - At Honex, we constantly strive : to improve every aspect of bee existence. : These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. (The bus passes by a Bee wearing a helmet who is being smashed into the ground with fly-swatters, newspapers and boots. He lifts a thumbs up but you can hear him groan) : ADAM==
- What do you think he makes? BARRY:
- Not enough. TOUR GUIDE: Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. (They pass by a turning wheel with Bees standing on pegs, who are each wearing a finger-shaped hat) Barry:
- Wow, What does that do? TOUR GUIDE:
- Catches that little strand of honey : that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. ADAM: (Intrigued) Can anyone work on the Krelman? TOUR GUIDE: Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. : But choose carefully : because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. (Everyone claps except for Barry) BARRY: The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. ADAM:
BARRY: You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? ADAM: Like what? Give me one example. (Barry and Adam stop walking and it is revealed to the audience that hundreds of cars are speeding by and narrowly missing them in perfect unison) BARRY: I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. ANNOUNCER: Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. BARRY: Wait a second. Check it out. (The Pollen jocks fly in, circle around and landing in line) : - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! ADAM: - Wow. : I've never seen them this close. BARRY: They know what it's like outside the hive. ADAM: Yeah, but some don't come back. GIRL BEES: - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! (The Pollen Jocks hook up their backpacks to machines that pump the nectar to trucks, which drive away)
LOU LO DUVA: You guys did great! : You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! (Punching the Pollen Jocks in joy) I love it! ADAM: - I wonder where they were. BARRY: - I don't know. : Their day's not planned. : Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. : You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. ADAM== Right. (Barry and Adam are covered in some pollen that floated off of the Pollen Jocks) BARRY: Look at that. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. ADAM: It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. BARRY: Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. (Barry waves at 2 girls standing a little away from them)
ADAM== Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? BARRY: Distant. Distant. POLLEN JOCK #1: Look at these two. POLLEN JOCK #2: - Couple of Hive Harrys. POLLEN JOCK #1: - Let's have fun with them. GIRL BEE #1: It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. BARRY: Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! : He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! (Slaps Adam with his hand to represent his scenario) GIRL BEE #2: - Oh, my! BARRY: - I never thought I'd knock him out. GIRL BEE #1: (Looking at Adam) What were you doing during this? ADAM: Obviously I was trying to alert the authorities. BARRY: I can autograph that.
(The pollen jocks walk up to Barry and Adam, they pretend that Barry and Adam really are pollen jocks.) POLLEN JOCK #1: A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? BARRY: Yeah. Gusty. POLLEN JOCK #1: We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. BARRY: - Six miles, huh? ADAM: - Barry! POLLEN JOCK #2: A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. BARRY: - Maybe I am. ADAM: - You are not! POLLEN JOCK #1: We're going 0900 at J-Gate. : What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? BARRY: I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. (The scene cuts to Barry looking out on the hive-city from his balcony at night) MARTIN:
Hey, Honex! BARRY: Dad, you surprised me. MARTIN: You decide what you're interested in? BARRY: - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. : Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? MARTIN: Son, let me tell you about stirring. : You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. : You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. BARRY: You know, Dad, the more I think about it, : maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. MARTIN: You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? : That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. :
Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! JANET: - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. BARRY: - I'm not trying to be funny. MARTIN: You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! JANET: - You're gonna be a stirrer? BARRY: - No one's listening to me! MARTIN: Wait till you see the sticks I have. BARRY: I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! (Barry's parents don't listen to him and continue to ramble on) MARTIN: Let's open some honey and celebrate! BARRY: Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. : Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! JANET: I'm so proud. (The scene cuts to Barry and Adam waiting in line to get a job) ADAM: - We're starting work today!
BARRY: - Today's the day. ADAM: Come on! All the good jobs will be gone. BARRY: Yeah, right. JOB LISTER: Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... BEE IN FRONT OF LINE: - Is it still available? JOB LISTER: - Hang on. Two left! : One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. ADAM: - What'd you get? BEE IN FRONT OF LINE: - Picking crud out. Stellar! (He walks away) ADAM: Wow! JOB LISTER: Couple of newbies? ADAM: Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! JOB LISTER: Make your choice. (Adam and Barry look up at the job board. There are hundreds of constantly changing panels that contain available or unavailable jobs. It looks very confusing)
ADAM: - You want to go first? BARRY: - No, you go. ADAM: Oh, my. What's available? JOB LISTER: Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. ADAM: - Any chance of getting the Krelman? JOB LISTER: - Sure, you're on. (Puts the Krelman finger-hat on Adam's head) (Suddenly the sign for Krelman closes out) : I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. (Takes Adam's hat off) Wax monkey's always open. ADAM: The Krelman opened up again. : What happened? JOB LISTER: A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. : Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. : Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life!
ADAM: Oh, this is so hard! (Barry remembers what the Pollen Jock offered him and he flies off) Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, : humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, : mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? (Adam turns around and sees Barry flying away) : Barry! POLLEN JOCK: All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... ADAM: (Through phone) What happened to you? Where are you? BARRY: - I'm going out. ADAM: - Out? Out where? BARRY: - Out there. ADAM: - Oh, no! BARRY: I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. ADAM:
You're gonna die! You're crazy! (Barry hangs up) Hello? POLLEN JOCK #2: Another call coming in. : If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd : that gets their roses today. BARRY: Hey, guys. POLLEN JOCK #1 == - Look at that. POLLEN JOCK #2: - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? LOU LO DUVA: Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. POLLEN JOCK #1: It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. (Puts hand on Barry's shoulder) LOU LO DUVA: (To Barry) Really? Feeling lucky, are you? BEE WITH CLIPBOARD: (To Barry) Sign here, here. Just initial that. : - Thank you. LOU LO DUVA: - OK. : You got a rain advisory today, :
and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. : So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, : hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. : Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. : Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! BARRY: - That's awful. LOU LO DUVA: (Still talking through megaphone) - And a reminder for you rookies, : bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! : All right, launch positions! POLLEN JOCKS: (The Pollen Jocks run into formation) : Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! LOU LU DUVA: Black and yellow! POLLEN JOCKS:
Hello! POLLEN JOCK #1: (To Barry)You ready for this, hot shot? BARRY: Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. POLLEN JOCK's: Wind, check. : - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. : - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. BARRY: Scared out of my shorts, check. LOU LO DUVA: OK, ladies, : let's move it out! : Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! : All of you, drain those flowers! (The pollen jocks fly out of the hive) BARRY: Wow! I'm out! : I can't believe I'm out! : So blue.
: I feel so fast and free! : Box kite! (Barry flies through the kite) : Wow! : Flowers! (A pollen jock puts on some high tech goggles that shows flowers similar to heat sink goggles.) POLLEN JOCK: This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. : Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. : Roses! POLLEN JOCK #1: 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. : Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. (The pollen jock fires a high-tech gun at the flower, shooting tubes that suck up the nectar from the flower and collects it into a pouch on the gun) BARRY: That is one nectar collector! POLLEN JOCK #1== - Ever see pollination up close? BARRY: - No, sir. POLLEN JOCK #1:
(Barry and the Pollen jock fly over the field, the pollen jock sprinkles pollen as he goes) : I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, : a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. BARRY: That's amazing. Why do we do that? POLLEN JOCK #1: That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. BARRY: Cool. POLLEN JOCK #1: I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. could be daisies. Don't we need those? POLLEN JOCK #2: Copy that visual. : Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. POLLEN JOCK #1: Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? POLLEN JOCK #2: Affirmative. (The Pollen jocks land near the "flowers" which, to the audience are obviously just tennis balls) KEN: (In the distance) That was on the line!
POLLEN JOCK #1: This is the coolest. What is it? POLLEN JOCK #2: I don't know, but I'm loving this color. : It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. POLLEN JOCK #1: Yeah, fuzzy. (Sticks his hand on the ball but it gets stuck) POLLEN JOCK #3== Chemical-y. (The pollen jock finally gets his hand free from the tennis ball) POLLEN JOCK #1: Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. (The pollen jocks turn around and see Barry lying his entire body on top of one of the tennis balls) POLLEN JOCK #2: My sweet lord of bees! POLLEN JOCK #3: Candy-brain, get off there! POLLEN JOCK #1: (Pointing upwards) Problem! (A human hand reaches down and grabs the tennis ball that Barry is stuck to) BARRY: - Guys! POLLEN JOCK #2: - This could be bad. POLLEN JOCK #3: Affirmative. (Vanessa Bloome starts bouncing the tennis ball, not knowing Barry is stick to it)
BARRY== Very close. : Gonna hurt. : Mama's little boy. (Barry is being hit back and forth by two humans playing tennis. He is still stuck to the ball) POLLEN JOCK #1: You are way out of position, rookie! KEN: Coming in at you like a MISSILE! (Barry flies past the pollen jocks, still stuck to the ball) BARRY: (In slow motion) Help me! POLLEN JOCK #2: I don't think these are flowers. POLLEN JOCK #3: - Should we tell him? POLLEN JOCK #1: - I think he knows. BARRY: What is this?! KEN: Match point! : You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to EAT IT! (A pollen jock coughs which confused Ken and he hits the ball the wrong way with Barry stuck to it and it goes flying into the city) BARRY:
Yowser! (Barry bounces around town and gets stuck in the engine of a car. He flies into the air conditioner and sees a bug that was frozen in there) BARRY: Ew, gross. (The man driving the car turns on the air conditioner which blows Barry into the car) GIRL IN CAR: There's a bee in the car! : - Do something! DAD DRIVING CAR: - I'm driving! BABY GIRL: (Waving at Barry) - Hi, bee. (Barry smiles and waves at the baby girl) GUY IN BACK OF CAR: - He's back here! : He's going to sting me! GIRL IN CAR: Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! (Barry freezes as well, hovering in the middle of the car) : GRANDMA IN CAR== He blinked! (The grandma whips out some bee-spray and sprays everywhere in the car, climbing into the front seat, still trying to spray Barry) GIRL IN CAR: Spray him, Granny! DAD DRIVING THE CAR: What are you doing?! (Barry escapes the car through the air conditioner and is flying high above
the ground, safe.) BARRY: Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. (Barry sees that storm clouds are gathering and he can see rain clouds moving into this direction) : I gotta get home. : Can't fly in rain. : Can't fly in rain. (A rain drop hits Barry and one of his wings is damaged) : Can't fly in rain. (A second rain drop hits Barry again and he spirals downwards) Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! (WW2 plane sound effects are played as he plummets, and he crash-lands on a plant inside an apartment near the window) VANESSA BLOOME: Ken, could you close the window please? KEN== Hey, check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. : You see? (Folds brochure resume out) Folds out. (Ken closes the window, trapping Barry inside) BARRY: Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. (Barry tries to fly away but smashes into the window and falls again) : What was that?
(Barry keeps trying to fly out the window but he keeps being knocked back because the window is closed) Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... : Drapes! (Barry taps the glass. He doesn't understand what it is) That is diabolical. KEN: It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. ANDY: What's number one? Star Wars? KEN: Nah, I don't go for that... (Ken makes finger guns and makes "pew pew pew" sounds and then stops) : ...kind of stuff. BARRY: No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. KEN: When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. BARRY: (Looking at the light on the ceiling) There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. (Starts flying towards the lightbulb) : I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. (Barry hits the lightbulb and falls into the dip on the table that the humans are sitting at) KEN:
I predicted global warming. : I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. (Andy dips a chip into the bowl and scoops up some dip with Barry on it and is about to put it in his mouth) : Wait! Stop! Bee! (Andy drops the chip with Barry in fear and backs away. All the humans freak out) : Stand back. These are winter boots. (Ken has winter boots on his hands and he is about to smash the bee but Vanessa saves him last second) VANESSA: Wait! : Don't kill him! (Vanessa puts Barry in a glass to protect him) KEN: You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! VANESSA: Why does his life have less value than yours? KEN: Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? VANESSA: I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. (Vanessa picks up Ken's brochure and puts it under the glass so she can carry Barry back to the window. Barry looks at Vanessa in amazement) KEN:
My brochure! VANESSA: There you go, little guy. (Vanessa opens the window and lets Barry out but Barry stays back and is still shocked that a human saved his life) KEN: I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. VANESSA: Put that on your resume brochure. KEN: My whole face could puff up. ANDY: Make it one of your special skills. KEN: Knocking someone out is also a special skill. (Ken walks to the door) Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. : - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? VANESSA: - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. : (Vanessa tries to close door) KEN== - You could put carob chips on there. VANESSA: - Bye. (Closes door but Ken opens it again) KEN: - Supposed to be less calories.
VANESSA: - Bye. (Closes door) (Fast forward to the next day, Barry is still inside the house. He flies into the kitchen where Vanessa is doing dishes) BARRY== (Talking to himself) I gotta say something. : She saved my life. I gotta say something. : All right, here it goes. (Turns back) Nah. : What would I say? : I could really get in trouble. : It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. : I can't believe I'm doing this. : I've got to. (Barry disguises himself as a character on a food can as Vanessa walks by again) : Oh, I can't do it. Come on! : No. Yes. No. : Do it. I can't.
: How should I start it? (Barry strikes a pose and wiggles his eyebrows) "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. (Vanessa is about to walk past Barry) Here she comes! Speak, you fool! : ...Hi! (Vanessa gasps and drops the dishes in fright and notices Barry on the counter) : I'm sorry. VANESSA: - You're talking. BARRY: - Yes, I know. VANESSA: (Pointing at Barry) You're talking! BARRY: I'm so sorry. VANESSA: No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. : But I don't recall going to bed. BARRY: Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. VANESSA: This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee!
BARRY: I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, (Pointing to the living room where Ken tried to kill him last night) but they were all trying to kill me. : And if it wasn't for you... : I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. (Vanessa stabs her hand with a fork to test whether she's dreaming or not) : That was a little weird. VANESSA: - I'm talking with a bee. BARRY: - Yeah. VANESSA: I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! BARRY: I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. (Barry turns to leave) VANESSA: - Wait! How did you learn to do that? BARRY: (Flying back) - What? VANESSA: The talking...thing. BARRY:
Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. VANESSA: - That's very funny. BARRY: - Yeah. : Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. : Anyway... VANESSA: Can I... : ...get you something? BARRY: - Like what? VANESSA: I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Coffee? BARRY: I don't want to put you out. VANESSA: It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. : - It's just coffee. BARRY: - I hate to impose. (Vanessa starts making coffee) VANESSA: - Don't be ridiculous!
BARRY: - Actually, I would love a cup. VANESSA: Hey, you want rum cake? BARRY: - I shouldn't. VANESSA: - Have some. BARRY: - No, I can't. VANESSA: - Come on! BARRY: I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. VANESSA: - Where? BARRY: - These stripes don't help. VANESSA: You look great! BARRY: I don't know if you know anything about fashion. : Are you all right? VANESSA: (Pouring coffee on the floor and missing the cup completely) No. (Flash forward in time. Barry and Vanessa are sitting together at a table on top of the apartment building drinking coffee)
: BARRY== He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. : He finally gets there. : He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. : And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. : Why would I marry a watermelon?" (Barry laughs but Vanessa looks confused) VANESSA: Is that a bee joke? BARRY: That's the kind of stuff we do. VANESSA: Yeah, different. : So, what are you gonna do, Barry? (Barry stands on top of a sugar cube floating in his coffee and paddles it around with a straw like it's a gondola) BARRY: About work? I don't know. : I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. VANESSA: I know how you feel.
BARRY: - You do? VANESSA: - Sure. : My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. BARRY: - Really? VANESSA: - My only interest is flowers. BARRY: Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. : Anyway, if you look... (Barry points to a tree in the middle of Central Park) : There's my hive right there. See it? VANESSA: You're in Sheep Meadow! BARRY: Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! VANESSA: No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. BARRY: - Why do girls put rings on their toes? VANESSA: - Why not? BARRY:
- It's like putting a hat on your knee. VANESSA:
- Maybe I'll try that. (A custodian installing a lightbulb looks over at them but to his perspective it looks like Vanessa is talking to a cup of coffee on the table) CUSTODIAN:
- You all right, ma'am? VANESSA:
- Oh, yeah. Fine. : Just having two cups of coffee! BARRY: Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. VANESSA== Yeah, it's no trouble. BARRY: Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. (Barry points towards the rum cake) : Can I take a piece of this with me? VANESSA: Sure! Here, have a crumb. (Vanessa hands Barry a crumb but it is still pretty big for Barry) BARRY:
- Thanks! VANESSA:
- Yeah. BARRY: All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around.
: Or not. VANESSA: OK, Barry... BARRY: And thank you so much again... for before. VANESSA: Oh, that? That was nothing. BARRY: Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... (Vanessa and Barry hold hands, but Vanessa has to hold out a finger because her hands is to big and Barry holds that) (The custodian looks over again and it appears Vanessa is laughing at her coffee again. The lightbulb that he was screwing in sparks and he falls off the ladder) (Fast forward in time and we see two Bee Scientists testing out a parachute in a Honex wind tunnel) BEE SCIENTIST #1: This can't possibly work. BEE SCIENTIST #2: He's all set to go. We may as well try it. : OK, Dave, pull the chute. (Dave pulls the chute and the wind slams him against the wall and he falls on his face.The camera pans over and we see Barry and Adam walking together) ADAM: - Sounds amazing. BARRY:
- It was amazing! : It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life.
ADAM: You did? Was she Bee-ish? : - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! BARRY: - No, no, no, not a wasp. ADAM: - Spider? BARRY: - I'm not attracted to spiders. : I know, for everyone else, it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. : I can't get by that face. ADAM: So who is she? BARRY: She's... human. ADAM: No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. BARRY: - Her name's Vanessa. (Adam puts his head in his hands) ADAM: - Oh, boy. BARRY== She's so nice. And she's a florist! ADAM: Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!
BARRY: We're not dating. ADAM: You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes : with power washers and M-80s! That's one-eighth a stick of dynamite! BARRY: She saved my life! And she understands me. ADAM: This is over! BARRY: Eat this. (Barry gives Adam a piece of the crumb that he got from Vanessa. Adam eats it) ADAM: (Adam's tone changes) This is not over! What was that? BARRY: - They call it a crumb. ADAM: - It was so stingin' stripey! BARRY: And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! : - You know what a Cinnabon is? ADAM: - No. (Adam opens a door behind him and he pulls Barry in)
BARRY: It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. ADAM: Be quiet! BARRY: They heat it up... ADAM: Sit down! (Adam forces Barry to sit down) BARRY: (Still rambling about Cinnabons) ...really hot! (Adam grabs Barry by the shoulders) ADAM: - Listen to me! : We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! BARRY== Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? ADAM: There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! : You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! BARRY: - Thinking bee. WORKER BEE: - Thinking bee. WORKER BEES AND ADAM: Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee! (Flash forward in time; Barry is laying on a raft in a pool full of honey. He is wearing sunglasses) JANET: There he is. He's in the pool. MARTIN: You know what your problem is, Barry? (Barry pulls down his sunglasses and he looks annoyed) BARRY: (Sarcastic) I gotta start thinking bee? JANET: How much longer will this go on? MARTIN: It's been three days! Why aren't you working? (Puts sunglasses back on) BARRY: I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. MARTIN: What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! JANET: Would it kill you to make a little honey? (Barry rolls off the raft and sinks into the honey pool) : Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. : Martin, would you talk to him? MARTIN:
Barry, I'm talking to you! (Barry keeps sinking into the honey until he is suddenly in Central Park having a picnic with Vanessa) (Barry has a cup of honey and he clinks his glass with Vanessas. Suddenly a mosquito lands on Vanessa and she slaps it, killing it. They both gasp but then burst out laughing) VANESSA: You coming? (The camera pans over and Vanessa is climbing into a small yellow airplane) BARRY: Got everything? VANESSA: All set! BARRY: Go ahead. I'll catch up. (Vanessa lifts off and flies ahead) VANESSA: Don't be too long. (Barry catches up with Vanessa and he sticks out his arms like ana irplane. He rolls from side to side, and Vanessa copies him with the airplane) VANESSA: Watch this! (Barry stays back and watches as Vanessa draws a heart in the air using pink smoke from the plane, but on the last loop-the-loop she suddenly crashes into a mountain and the plane explodes. The destroyed plane falls into some rocks and explodes a second time) BARRY: Vanessa! (As Barry is yelling his mouth fills with honey and he wakes up, discovering that he was just day dreaming. He slowly sinks back into the honey pool) MARTIN: - We're still here.
JANET: - I told you not to yell at him. : He doesn't respond to yelling! MARTIN: - Then why yell at me? JANET: - Because you don't listen! MARTIN: I'm not listening to this. BARRY: Sorry, I've gotta go. MARTIN: - Where are you going? BARRY: - I'm meeting a friend. JANET: A girl? Is this why you can't decide? BARRY: Bye. (Barry flies out the door and Martin shakes his head) : JANET== I just hope she's Bee-ish. (Fast forward in time and Barry is sitting on Vanessa's shoulder and she is closing up her shop) BARRY: They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? VANESSA: To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream!
: Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. BARRY: A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? VANESSA: No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? BARRY: It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. VANESSA: Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. BARRY: TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! VANESSA: You don't have that? BARRY: We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. VANESSA: Oh, my. (A human walks by and Barry narrowly avoids him) PASSERBY: Dumb bees! VANESSA: You must want to sting all those jerks. BARRY: We try not to sting.
It's usually fatal for us. VANESSA: So you have to watch your temper (They walk into a store) BARRY: Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, : write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: : Anger, jealousy, lust. (Suddenly an employee(Hector) hits Barry off of Vanessa's shoulder. Hector thinks he's saving Vanessa) VANESSA: (To Barry) Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? (Barry is getting up off the floor) BARRY: Yeah. VANESSA: (To Hector) - What is wrong with you?! HECTOR: (Confused) - It's a bug. VANESSA: He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! (Vanessa hits Hector across the face with the magazine he had and then hits him in the head. Hector backs away covering his head) Barry: What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? (Vanessa sets Barry back on her shoulder)
VANESSA: Yeah, it was. How did you know? BARRY: It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. VANESSA: You've really got that down to a science. BARRY: - Oh, we have to. I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. VANESSA: - I'll bet. (Barry looks to his right and notices there is honey for sale in the aisle) BARRY: What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? (Barry looks at all the brands of honey, shocked) How did this get here? Cute Bee, Golden Blossom, : Ray Liotta Private Select? (Barry puts his hands up and slowly turns around, a look of disgust on his face) VANESSA: - Is he that actor? BARRY: - I never heard of him. : - Why is this here? VANESSA: - For people. We eat it. BARRY:
You don't have enough food of your own?! (Hector looks back and notices that Vanessa is talking to Barry) VANESSA: - Well, yes. BARRY: - How do you get it? VANESSA: - Bees make it. BARRY: - I know who makes it! : And it's hard to make it! : There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! VANESSA: - It's organic. BARRY: - It's our-ganic! VANESSA: It's just honey, Barry. BARRY: Just what?! : Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! : You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! :
And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. : I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! (Flash forward in time; Barry paints his face with black strikes like a soldier and sneaks into the storage section of the store) (Two men, including Hector, are loading boxes into some trucks) : SUPERMARKET EMPLOYEE== Hey, Hector. : - You almost done? HECTOR: - Almost. (Barry takes a step to peak around the corner) (Whispering) He is here. I sense it. : Well, I guess I'll go home now (Hector pretends to walk away by walking in place and speaking loudly) : and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. BARRY: You're busted, box boy! HECTOR: I knew I heard something! So you can talk! BARRY: I can talk. And now you'll start talking! : Where you getting the sweet stuff?
Who's your supplier? HECTOR: I don't understand. I thought we were friends. : The last thing we want to do is upset bees! (Hector takes a thumbtack out of the board behind him and sword-fights Barry. Barry is using his stinger like a sword) : You're too late! It's ours now! BARRY: You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! HECTOR: You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! (Barry hits the thumbtack out of Hectors hand and Hector surrenders) Barry: Where is the honey coming from? : Tell me where! HECTOR: (Pointing to leaving truck) Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! (Barry chases after the truck but it is getting away. He flies onto a bicyclists' backpack and he catches up to the truck) CAR DRIVER: (To bicyclist) Crazy person! (Barry flies off and lands on the windshield of the Honey farms truck. Barry looks around and sees dead bugs splattered everywhere) BARRY: What horrible thing has happened here?
: These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now : they're on the road to nowhere! (Barry hears a sudden whisper) (Barry looks up and sees Mooseblood, a mosquito playing dead) MOOSEBLOOD: Just keep still. BARRY: What? You're not dead? MOOSEBLOOD: Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? BARRY: To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. MOOSEBLOOD: I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! ANOTHER BUG PLAYING DEAD: I'm going to Tacoma. (Barry looks at another bug) BARRY: - And you? MOOSEBLOOD: - He really is dead. BARRY: All right. (Another bug hits the windshield and the drivers notice. They activate the windshield wipers) MOOSEBLOOD== Uh-oh! (The windshield wipers are slowly sliding over the dead bugs and wiping
them off) BARRY: - What is that?! MOOSEBLOOD: - Oh, no! : - A wiper! Triple blade! BARRY: - Triple blade? MOOSEBLOOD: Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! (Mooseblood and Barry grab onto the wiper and they hold on as it wipes the windshield) Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! : How much do you people need to see?! (Bangs on windshield) : Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! RADIO IN TRUCK: From NPR News in Washington, I'm Carl Kasell. MOOSEBLOOD: But don't kill no more bugs! (Mooseblood and Barry are washed off by the wipr fluid) MOOSEBLOOD: - Bee! BARRY: - Moose blood guy!! (Barry starts screaming as he hangs onto the antenna) (Suddenly it is revealed that a water bug is also hanging on the antenna.
There is a pause and then Barry and the water bug both start screaming) TRUCK DRIVER: - You hear something? GUY IN TRUCK: - Like what? TRUCK DRIVER: Like tiny screaming. GUY IN TRUCK: Turn off the radio. (The antenna starts to lower until it gets to low and sinks into the truck. The water bug flies off and Barry is forced to let go and he is blown away. He luckily lands inside a horn on top of the truck where he finds Mooseblood, who was blown into the same place) MOOSEBLOOD: Whassup, bee boy? BARRY: Hey, Blood. (Fast forward in time and we see that Barry is deep in conversation with Mooseblood. They have been sitting in this truck for a while) BARRY: ...Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. MOOSEBLOOD: Wow! BARRY: I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. : I mean, that honey's ours. MOOSEBLOOD: - Bees hang tight. BARRY:
- We're all jammed in. : It's a close community. MOOSEBLOOD: Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. BARRY:
- What if you get in trouble? MOOSEBLOOD:
- You a mosquito, you in trouble. : Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! BARRY: At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. MOOSEBLOOD: Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. : Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. (An ambulance passes by and it has a blood donation sign on it) You got to be kidding me! : Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! (Mooseblood leaves and flies onto the window of the ambulance where there are other mosquito's hanging out) :
- Hey, guys! OTHER MOSQUITO:
- Mooseblood!
BEEKEEPER #2: They make the honey, and we make the money. BARRY: "They make the honey, and we make the money"? (The Beekeeper sprays hundreds of cheap miniature apartments with the smoker. The bees are fainting or passing out) Oh, my! : What's going on? Are you OK? (Barry flies into one of the apartment and helps a Bee couple get off the ground. They are coughing and its hard for them to stand) BEE IN APARTMENT: Yeah. It doesn't last too long. BARRY: Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? BEE IN APPARTMENT: Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. (The apartment room is completely empty except for a photo on the wall of the "queen" who is obviously a man in women's clothes) BARRY: This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! : That's a drag queen! : What is this? (Barry flies out and he discovers that there are hundreds of these structures, each housing thousands of Bees) Oh, no! : There's hundreds of them! (Barry takes out his camera and takes pictures of these Bee work camps. The beekeepers look very evil in these depictions)
Bee honey. : Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! : This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. (Flash forward in time and Barry is showing these pictures to his parents) JANET: Oh, Barry, stop. MARTIN: Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. BARRY: Do these look like rumors? (Holds up the pictures) UNCLE CARL: That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. JANET: How did you get mixed up in this? ADAM: He's been talking to humans. JANET: - What? MARTIN: - Talking to humans?! ADAM: He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! JANET: Make out? Barry!
BARRY: We do not. ADAM: - You wish you could. MARTIN: - Whose side are you on? BARRY: The bees! UNCLE CARL: (He has been sitting in the back of the room this entire time) I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. JANET: Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? BARRY: I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! : Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked : your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. JANET: I remember that. BARRY: What right do they have to our honey? : We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!
ADAM: Even if it's true, what can one bee do? BARRY: Sting them where it really hurts. MARTIN: In the face! The eye! : - That would hurt. BARRY: - No. MARTIN: Up the nose? That's a killer. BARRY: There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. (Flash forward a bit in time and we are watching the Bee News) BEE NEWS NARRATOR: Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. BEE PROTESTOR: No more bee beards! BEE NEWS NARRATOR: With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. : Weather with Storm Stinger. : Sports with Buzz Larvi. : And Jeanette Chung. BOB BUMBLE: - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. JEANETTE CHUNG:
- And I'm Jeanette Chung. BOB BUMBLE: A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, : intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, : packaging it and profiting from it illegally! JEANETTE CHUNG: Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, : we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, : Classy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. (The scene changes to an interview on the news with Bee version of Larry King and Barry) BEE LARRY KING: Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. : Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? BARRY: Bees have never been afraid to change the world. : What about Bee Columbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? BEE LARRY KING: Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans.
: We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. BARRY: How old are you? BEE LARRY KING: The bee community is supporting you in this case, : which will be the trial of the bee century. BARRY: You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. BEE LARRY KING: It's a common name. Next week... BARRY: He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... BEE LARRY KING: Next week... BARRY: Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. BEE LARRY KING: Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here, live. (Bee Larry King gets annoyed and flies away offscreen) BARRY: Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. (Flash forward in time. We see Vanessa enter and Ken enters behind her. They are arguing)
Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. KEN: But it's our yogurt night! VANESSA: (Holding door open for Ken) Bye-bye. KEN: (Yelling) Why is yogurt night so difficult?! (Ken leaves and Vanessa walks over to Barry. His workplace is a mess) VANESSA: You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! BARRY: Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. ADAM: - Frosting... - How many sugars? ==BARRY== Just one. I try not to use the competition. : So why are you helping me? VANESSA: Bees have good qualities. : And it takes my mind off the shop. : Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. BARRY:
Those are great, if you're three. VANESSA: And artificial flowers. BARRY: - Oh, those just get me psychotic! VANESSA: - Yeah, me too. : BARRY: Bent stingers, pointless pollination. ADAM: Bees must hate those fake things! : Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. : Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. VANESSA: - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. BARRY: - I guess. ADAM: You sure you want to go through with it? BARRY: Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able : to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! (Flash forward in time and we are watching the human news. The camera shows
a crowd outside a courthouse) NEWS REPORTER: It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, : where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, : we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. (We are no longer watching through a news camera) ADAM: What have we gotten into here, Barry? BARRY: It's pretty big, isn't it? ADAM== (Looking at the hundreds of people around the courthouse) I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. BARRY: You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? SECURITY GUARD: Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. (A limousine drives up and a fat man,Layton Montgomery, a honey industry owner gets out and walks past Barry) ADAM: - What's the matter? BARRY: - I don't know, I just got a chill. (Fast forward in time and everyone is in the court) MONTGOMERY: Well, if it isn't the bee team.
(To Honey Industry lawyers) You boys work on this? MAN: All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. JUDGE BUMBLETON: All right. Case number 4475, : Superior Court of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry : is now in session. : Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? MONTGOMERY: A privilege. JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? (Everyone looks closely, they are waiting to see if a Bee can really talk) (Barry makes several buzzing sounds to sound like a Bee) BARRY: I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. JUDGE BUMBLBETON: Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. MONTGOMERY: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, : my grandmother was a simple woman. :
Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right : to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. : If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, : just think of what would it mean. : I would have to negotiate with the silkworm : for the elastic in my britches! : Talking bee! (Montgomery walks over and looks closely at Barry) : How do we know this isn't some sort of : holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? : They could be using laser beams! : Robotics! Ventriloquism! Cloning! For all we know, : he could be on steroids! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Benson?
BARRY: Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. : I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. : It's important to all bees. We invented it! : We make it. And we protect it with our lives. : Unfortunately, there are some people in this room : who think they can take it from us : 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, : you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have : but everything we are! JANET== (To Martin) I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Call your first witness. BARRY: So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden
of Honey Farms, big company you have. KLAUSS VANDERHAYDEN: I suppose so. BARRY: I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! KLAUSS: Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. BARRY: Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. : I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? KLAUSS: (Quietly) - No. BARRY: - I couldn't hear you. KLAUSS: - No. BARRY: - No. : Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, : it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. KLAUSS: They're very lovable creatures.
: Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. BARRY: You mean like this? (The bear from Over The Hedge barges in through the back door and it is roaring and standing on its hind legs. It is thrashing its claws and people are screaming. It is being held back by a guard who has the bear on a chain) : (Pointing to the roaring bear) Bears kill bees! : How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! : Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! JUDGE BUMBLETON: OK, that's enough. Take him away. (The bear stops roaring and thrashing and walks out) BARRY: So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. : - Where have I heard it before? MR. STING: - I was with a band called The Police. BARRY: But you've never been a police officer, have you? STING: No, I haven't. BARRY:
No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example : of bee culture casually stolen by a human : for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. STING: Oh, please. BARRY: Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? : Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. : Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! MONTGOMERY: That's not his real name?! You idiots! BARRY: Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on : your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. RAY LIOTTA: Thank you. Thank you. BARRY: I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome : with a churning inner turmoil
that's ready to blow. RAY LIOTTA: I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? BARRY: Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? : Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't : have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? RAY LIOTTA: Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! BARRY: This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! (Ray Liotta looses it and tries to grab Barry) RAY LIOTTA: Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! JUDGE BUMBLETON: - Order in this court! RAY LIOTTA: - You're all thinking it! (Judge Bumbleton starts banging her gavel) JUDGE BUMBLETON: Order! Order, I say! RAY LIOTTA: - Say it! MAN:
- Mr. Liotta, please sit down! (We see a montage of magazines which feature the court case) (Flash forward in time and Barry is back home with Vanessa) BARRY: I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. VANESSA: I think the jury's on our side. BARRY: Are we doing everything right,you know, legally? VANESSA: I'm a florist. BARRY: Right. Well, here's to a great team. VANESSA: To a great team! (Ken walks in from work. He sees Barry and he looks upset when he sees Barry clinking his glass with Vanessa) KEN: Well, hello. VANESSA:
- Oh, Ken! BARRY:
- Hello! VANESSA: I didn't think you were coming. : No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... (Ken holds up his phone and flips it open. The phone has no charge) ...the battery... VANESSA:
KEN: Do we? BARRY: Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. KEN: (Menacingly) That's just what I was thinking about doing. (Ken reaches for a fork on the table but knocks if on the floor. He goes to pick it up) VANESSA: Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. (Ken quickly rises back up after hearing this but hits his head on the table and yells) BARRY: I'm going to drain the old stinger. KEN: Yeah, you do that. (Barry flies past Ken to get to the bathroom and Ken freaks out, splashing some of the wine he was using to cool his head in his eyes. He yells in anger) (Barry looks at the magazines featuring his victories in court) BARRY: Look at that. (Barry flies into the bathroom) (He puts his hand on his head but this makes hurts him and makes him even madder. He yells again) (Barry is washing his hands in the sink but then Ken walks in) KEN: You know, you know I've just about had it (Closes bathroom door behind him) with your little mind games. (Ken is menacingly rolling up a magazine) BARRY:
(Backing away) - What's that? KEN: - Italian Vogue. BARRY: Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. KEN: It's a lot of ads. BARRY: Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? KEN: That's funny, I just can't seem to recall that! (Ken smashes everything off the sink with the magazine and Barry narrowly escapes) (Ken follows Barry around and tries to hit him with the magazine but he keeps missing) (Ken gets a spray bottle) : I think something stinks in here! BARRY: (Enjoying the spray) I love the smell of flowers. (Ken holds a lighter in front of the spray bottle) KEN: How do you like the smell of flames?! BARRY: Not as much. (Ken fires his make-shift flamethrower but misses Barry, burning the bathroom. He torches the whole room but looses his footing and falls into the bathtub. After getting hit in the head by falling objects 3 times he picks up the shower head, revealing a Water bug hiding under it) WATER BUG: Water bug! Not taking sides!
(Barry gets up out of a pile of bathroom supplies and he is wearing a chapstick hat) BARRY: Ken, I'm wearing a Chapstick hat! This is pathetic! (Ken switches the shower head to lethal) KEN: I've got issues! (Ken sprays Barry with the shower head and he crash lands into the toilet) (Ken menacingly looks down into the toilet at Barry) Well, well, well, a royal flush! BARRY: - You're bluffing. KEN: - Am I? (flushes toilet) (Barry grabs a chapstick from the toilet seat and uses it to surf in the flushing toilet) BARRY: Surf's up, dude! (Barry flies out of the toilet on the chapstick and sprays Ken's face with the toilet water) : EW,Poo water! BARRY: That bowl is gnarly. KEN: (Aiming a toilet cleaner at Barry) Except for those dirty yellow rings! (Barry cowers and covers his head and Vanessa runs in and takes the toilet cleaner from Ken just before he hits Barry) VANESSA: Kenneth! What are you doing?! KEN== (Leaning towards Barry)
You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! VANESSA: We need to talk! (Vanessa pulls Ken out of the bathroom) : He's just a little bee! : And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! KEN: Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? VANESSA: No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! KEN: Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... : My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! VANESSA: Goodbye, Ken. (Ken huffs and walks out and slams the door. But suddenly he walks back in and stares at Barry) : And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners MADE BY MAN! (Ken leaves again and Vanessa leans in towards Barry) VANESSA: I'm sorry about all that. (Ken walks back in again)
KEN: I know it's got an aftertaste! I LIKE IT! (Ken leaves for the last time) VANESSA: I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. : I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. : Are you OK for the trial? BARRY: I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. (Flash forward in time and Barry, Adam, and Vanessa are back in court) MONTGOMERY-- We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. ADAM: Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... (Barry stares at Adam) ...Yeah. LAWYER: Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. MONTGOMERY: Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around : is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. (To lawyer)
- You got the tweezers? LAWYER:
- Are you allergic? MONTGOMERY: Only to losing, son. Only to losing. : Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. : What exactly is your relationship (Points to Vanessa) : to that woman? BARRY: We're friends. MONTGOMERY:
- Good friends? BARRY:
- Yes. MONTGOMERY: How good? Do you live together? ADAM: Wait a minute... : MONTGOMERY: Are you her little... : ...bedbug? (Adam's stinger starts vibrating. He is agitated) I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand,
: doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? BARRY: - Yeah, but... MONTGOMERY: (Pointing at Janet and Martin)
- So those aren't your real parents! JANET:
- Oh, Barry... BARRY:
- Yes, they are! ADAM: Hold me back! (Vanessa tries to hold Adam back. He wants to sting Montgomery) MONTGOMERY: You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? ADAM: He's denouncing bees! MONTGOMERY: Don't y'all date your cousins? (Montgomery leans over on the jury stand and stares at Adam) VANESSA:
- Objection! (Vanessa raises her hand to object but Adam gets free. He flies straight at Montgomery) =ADAM:
- I'm going to pincushion this guy! BARRY: Adam, don't! It's what he wants! (Adam stings Montgomery in the butt and he starts thrashing around)
: Order, please! (Flash forward in time and we see a human news reporter) NEWS REPORTER: The case of the honeybees versus the human race : took a pointed turn against the bees : yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. (Adam is laying in a hospital bed and Barry flies in to see him) BARRY: - Hey, buddy. ADAM: - Hey. BARRY: - Is there much pain? ADAM: - Yeah. : I... : I blew the whole case, didn't I? BARRY: It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. ADAM: I'd be better off dead. Look at me. (A small plastic sword is replaced as Adam's stinger) They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.
: Look, there's a little celery still on it. (Flicks off the celery and sighs) BARRY: What was it like to sting someone? ADAM: I can't explain it. It was all... : All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! BARRY: ...All right. ADAM: You think it was all a trap? BARRY: Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. : What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. ADAM: What will the humans do to us if they win? BARRY: I don't know. ADAM: I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. BARRY: Adam, they check in, but they don't check out!
ADAM: Oh, my. (Coughs) Could you get a nurse to close that window? BARRY: - Why? ADAM: - The smoke. (We can see that two humans are smoking cigarettes outside) : Bees don't smoke. BARRY: Right. Bees don't smoke. : Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. : That's it! That's our case! ADAM: It is? It's not over? BARRY: Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. : Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. (Flash forward in time and Adam is making a paper boat in the courtroom) ADAM: And assuming you've done step 29 correctly, you're ready for the tub! (We see that the jury have each made their own paper boats after being taught how by Adam. They all look confused) JUDGE BUMBLETON:
Mr. Flayman. ADAM: Yes? Yes, Your Honor! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Where is the rest of your team? ADAM: (Continues stalling) Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. : Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, : and as a result, we don't make very good time. : I actually heard a funny story about... MONTGOMERY: Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs : taken up enough of this court's valuable time? : How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? : They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges : against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. : I move for a complete dismissal
of this entire case! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going : to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. ADAM: But you can't! We have a terrific case. MONTGOMERY: Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? : Show me the smoking gun! BARRY: (Barry flies in through the door) Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? : Here is your smoking gun. (Vanessa walks in holding a bee smoker. She sets it down on the Judge's podium) JUDGE BUMBLETON: What is that? BARRY: It's a bee smoker! MONTGOMERY: (Picks up smoker) What, this? This harmless little contraption? : This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. (Montgomery accidentally fires it at the bees in the crowd and they faint
and cough) (Dozens of reporters start taking pictures of the suffering bees) BARRY: Look at what has happened : to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" : Is this what nature intended for us? : To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines : and man-made wooden slat work camps? : Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? (Barry points to the honey industry owners. One of them is an African American so he awkwardly separates himself from the others) LAWYER: - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. BARRY: Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! ADAM AND VANESSA: Free the bees! Free the bees! BEES IN CROWD: Free the bees! HUMAN JURY: Free the bees! Free the bees! JUDGE BUMBLETON: The court finds in favor of the bees!
BARRY: Vanessa, we won! VANESSA: I knew you could do it! High-five! (Vanessa hits Barry hard because her hand is too big) : Sorry. BARRY: (Overjoyed) I'm OK! You know what this means? : All the honey will finally belong to the bees. : Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. MONTGOMERY: This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. : You'll regret this. (Montgomery leaves and Barry goes outside the courtroom. Several reporters start asking Barry questions) REPORTER 1#: Barry, how much honey is out there? BARRY: All right. One at a time. REPORTER 2#: Barry, who are you wearing? BARRY: My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants.
(Barry flies outside with the paparazzi and Adam and Vanessa stay back) ADAM: (To Vanessa) - What if Montgomery's right? Vanessa: - What do you mean? ADAM: We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. (Flash forward in time and Barry is talking to a man) BUSINESS MAN: Congratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? BARRY: First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. (As Barry is talking we see a montage of men putting "closed" tape over the work camps and freeing the bees in the crappy apartments) Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, : every last drop. (Men in suits are pushing all the honey of the aisle and into carts) We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more (We see a statue of a bear-shaped honey container being pulled down by bees) than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. : We're all aware of what they do in the woods. (We see Winnie the Pooh sharing his honey with Piglet in the cross-hairs of a high-tech sniper rifle) BARRY: (Looking through binoculars)
Wait for my signal. : Take him out. (Winnie gets hit by a tranquilizer dart and dramatically falls off the log he was standing on, his tongue hanging out. Piglet looks at Pooh in fear and the Sniper takes the honey.) SNIPER: He'll have nausea for a few hours, then he'll be fine. (Flash forward in time) BARRY: And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... (Mr. Sting is sitting at home until he is taken out of his house by the men in suits) STING: But it's just a prance-about stage name! BARRY: ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products : and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. (An old lady is mixing honey into her tea but suddenly men in suits smash her face down on the table and take the honey) OLD LADY: Can't breathe. (A honey truck pulls up to Barry's hive) WORKER: Bring it in, boys! : Hold it right there! Good. : Tap it.
(Tons of honey is being pumped into the hive's storage) BEE WORKER 1#: (Honey overflows from the cup) Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! : - I think we need to shut down! =BEE WORKER #2= - Shut down? We've never shut down. : Shut down honey production! DEAN BUZZWELL: Stop making honey! (The bees all leave their stations. Two bees run into a room and they put the keys into a machine) Turn your key, sir! (Two worker bees dramatically turn their keys, which opens the button which they press, shutting down the honey-making machines. This is the first time this has ever happened) BEE: ...What do we do now? (Flash forward in time and a Bee is about to jump into a pool full of honey) Cannonball! (The bee gets stuck in the honey and we get a short montage of Bees leaving work) (We see the Pollen Jocks flying but one of them gets a call on his antenna) LOU LU DUVA: (Through "phone") We're shutting honey production! : Mission abort. POLLEN JOCK #1: Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. (The Pollen Jocks fly back to the hive)
(We get a time lapse of Central Park slowly wilting away as the bees all relax) BARRY: Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. ADAM: Oh, yeah? BARRY: What's going on? Where is everybody? (The entire street is deserted) : - Are they out celebrating? ADAM: - They're home. : They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. : I heard your Uncle Carl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. BARRY: At least we got our honey back. ADAM: Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? : It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. : This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. :
And now... : Now I can't. (Flash forward in time and Barry is talking to Vanessa) BARRY: I don't understand why they're not happy. : I thought their lives would be better! : They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. VANESSA: You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? BARRY: - What did you want to show me? (Vanessa takes Barry to the rooftop where they first had coffee and points to her store) VANESSA: - This. (Points at her flowers. They are all grey and wilting) BARRY: What happened here? VANESSA: That is not the half of it. (Small flash forward in time and Vanessa and Barry are on the roof of her store and she points to Central Park) (We see that Central Park is no longer green and colorful, rather it is grey, brown, and dead-like. It is very depressing to look at) BARRY: Oh, no. Oh, my. :
They're all wilting. VANESSA: Doesn't look very good, does it? BARRY: No. VANESSA: And whose fault do you think that is? BARRY: You know, I'm gonna guess bees. VANESSA== (Staring at Barry) Bees? BARRY: Specifically, me. : I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. VANESSA: It's not just flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. BARRY: That's our whole SAT test right there. VANESSA: Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. : And then, of course... BARRY: The human species? : So if there's no more pollination,
: it could all just go south here, couldn't it? VANESSA: I know this is also partly my fault. BARRY: How about a suicide pact? VANESSA: How do we do it? BARRY: - I'll sting you, you step on me. VANESSA: - That just kills you twice. BARRY: Right, right. VANESSA: Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. (Vanessa leaves) BARRY: (To himself) I had to open my mouth and talk. : Vanessa? : Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? (Vanessa is getting into a taxi) VANESSA: To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. :
They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. : It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. BARRY: Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. VANESSA: I know. Me neither. (The taxi starts to drive away) BARRY: Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. : Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? : Roses! : Vanessa! (Barry flies after the Taxi) VANESSA: Roses?! : Barry? (Barry is flying outside the window of the taxi) BARRY: - Roses are flowers! VANESSA: - Yes, they are. BARRY: Flowers, bees, pollen!
VANESSA: I know. That's why this is the last parade. BARRY: Maybe not. Could you ask him to slow down? VANESSA: Could you slow down? (The taxi driver screeches to a stop and Barry keeps flying forward) : Barry! (Barry flies back to the window) BARRY: OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. VANESSA: Yes, it kind of is. BARRY: I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you : with the flower shop. I've made it worse. VANESSA: Actually, it's completely closed down. BARRY: I thought maybe you were remodeling. : But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. VANESSA: I don't want to hear it!
BARRY: All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. : I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. : All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. : - Bees. VANESSA: - Park. BARRY: - Pollen! VANESSA: - Flowers. BARRY: - Re-pollination! VANESSA: - Across the nation! : Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. : They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. : Security will be tight. BARRY: I have an idea.
(Flash forward in time. Vanessa is about to board a plane which has all the Roses on board. VANESSA: Vanessa Bloome, FTD. (Holds out badge) : Official floral business. It's real. SECURITY GUARD: Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. =VANESSA== Thank you. It was a gift. (Barry is revealed to be hiding inside the brooch) (Flash back in time and Barry and Vanessa are discussing their plan) BARRY: Once inside, we just pick the right float. VANESSA: How about The Princess and the Pea? : I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! BARRY: Yes, I got it. : - Where should I sit? GUARD: - What are you? BARRY: - I believe I'm the pea. GUARD: - The pea? VANESSA:
It goes under the mattresses. GUARD: - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. VANESSA: You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! : Let's see what this baby'll do. (Vanessa drives the float through traffic) GUARD: Hey, what are you doing?! BARRY== Then all we do is blend in with traffic... : ...without arousing suspicion. : Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. (Flash forward in time and Barry and Vanessa are about to get on a plane) SECURITY GUARD: Stop! Security. : - You and your insect pack your float? VANESSA: - Yes. SECURITY GUARD: Has it been in your possession the entire time? VANESSA: - Yes.
SECURITY GUARD: Would you remove your shoes? (To Barry) - Remove your stinger. BARRY: - It's part of me. SECURITY GUARD: I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. (Barry plotting with Vanessa) BARRY: Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. (Flash forward in time and Barry and Vanessa are flying on the plane) Can you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! VANESSA: I think this is gonna work. BARRY: It's got to work. CAPTAIN SCOTT: (On intercom) Attention, passengers, this is Captain Scott. : We have a bit of bad weather in New York. : It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. VANESSA: Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. BARRY:
I gotta get up there and talk to them. VANESSA== Be careful. (Barry flies right outside the cockpit door) BARRY: Can I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. (The flight attendant opens the door and walks out and Barry flies into the cockpit unseen) BARRY: Captain, I'm in a real situation. CAPTAIN SCOTT: - What'd you say, Hal? CO-PILOT HAL: - Nothing. (Scott notices Barry and freaks out) CAPTAIN SCOTT: Bee! BARRY: No,no,no, Don't freak out! My entire species... (Captain Scott gets out of his seat and tries to suck Barry into a handheld vacuum) HAL: (To Scott) What are you doing? (Barry lands on Hals hair but Scott sees him. He tries to suck up Barry but instead he sucks up Hals toupee) CAPTAIN SCOTT: Uh-oh. BARRY: - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney!
HAL: (Hal doesn't know Barry is on his head) - Who's an attorney? CAPTAIN SCOTT: Don't move. (Scott hits Hal in the face with the vacuum in an attempt to hit Barry. Hal is knocked out and he falls on the life raft button which launches an infalatable boat into Scott, who gets knocked out and falls to the floor. They are both uncounscious.) BARRY: (To himself) Oh, Barry. BARRY: (On intercom, with a Southern accent) Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. : Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? (Vanessa looks confused) (Normal accent) ...And please hurry! (Vanessa opens the door and sees the life raft and the uncounscious pilots) VANESSA: What happened here? BARRY: I tried to talk to them, but then there was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. : Now one's bald, one's in a boat, and they're both unconscious! VANESSA: ...Is that another bee joke? BARRY:
- No! : No one's flying the plane! BUD DITCHWATER: (Through radio on plane) This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? VANESSA: This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. BUD: Where's the pilot? VANESSA: He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. BUD: Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? BARRY: As a matter of fact, there is. BUD:
- Who's that? BARRY:
- Barry Benson. BUD: From the honey trial?! Oh, great. BARRY: Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. : It's got giant wings, huge engines.
REPORTER: (Talking with Bob Bumble) We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls : with absolutely no flight experience. BOB BUMBLE: Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. BUD: I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. : They've done enough damage. REPORTER: But isn't he your only hope? BUD: Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. : Their wings are too small... BARRY: (Through radio) Haven't we heard this a million times? : "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense."... BOB BUMBLE: - Get this on the air! BEE: - Got it.
BEE NEWS CREW: - Stand by. BEE NEWS CREW: - We're going live! BARRY: (Through radio on TV) ...The way we work may be a mystery to you. : Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. : But let me tell you about a small job. : If you do it well, it makes a big difference. : More than we realized. To us, to everyone. : That's why I want to get bees back to working together. : That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. : We get behind a fellow. : - Black and yellow! BEES: - Hello! (The scene switches and Barry is teaching Vanessa how to fly) BARRY:
Left, right, down, hover. VANESSA: - Hover? BARRY: - Forget hover. VANESSA: This isn't so hard. (Pretending to honk the horn) Beep-beep! Beep-beep! (A Lightning bolt hits the plane and autopilot turns off) Barry, what happened?! BARRY: Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. VANESSA: - That may have been helping me. BARRY: - And now we're not! VANESSA: So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. (The plane plummets but we see Lou Lu Duva and the Pollen Jocks, along with multiple other bees flying towards the plane) Lou Lu DUva: All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! : Move out! (The scene switches back to Vanessa and Barry in the plane) BARRY: Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! (Barry sticks out his arms like an airplane and flys in front of Vanessa's face)
VANESSA: Don't have to yell. BARRY: I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. VANESSA: It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! BARRY: It's not a tone. I'm panicking! VANESSA: I can't do this! (Barry slaps Vanessa) BARRY: Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! VANESSA: (Slaps Barry) You snap out of it. BARRY: (Slaps Vanessa) : You snap out of it. VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! (We see that all the Pollen Jocks are flying under the plane) VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it!
VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! VANESSA: - Hold it! BARRY: - Why? Come on, it's my turn. VANESSA: How is the plane flying? (The plane is now safely flying) VANESSA: I don't know. (Barry's antennae rings like a phone. Barry picks up) BARRY: Hello? LOU LU DUVA: (Through "phone") Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? (All of the Pollen Jocks are carrying the plane) BARRY: The Pollen Jocks! : They do get behind a fellow. LOU LU DUVA: - Black and yellow. POLLEN JOCKS: - Hello. LOU LU DUVA: All right, let's drop this tin can
on the blacktop. BARRY: Where? I can't see anything. Can you? VANESSA: No, nothing. It's all cloudy. : Come on. You got to think bee, Barry. BARRY: - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. (On the runway there are millions of bees laying on their backs) BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! BARRY: Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. VANESSA: - What? BARRY: - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. : Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. : Bring the nose down. BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! CONTROL TOWER OPERATOR: - What in the world is on the tarmac? BUD: - Get some lights on that!
(It is revealed that all the bees are organized into a giant pulsating flower formation) BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! BARRY: - Vanessa, aim for the flower. VANESSA: - OK. BARRY: Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? LOU LU DUVA: Affirmative! BARRY: Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. : Land on that flower! : Ready? Full reverse! : Spin it around! (The plane's nose is pointed at a flower painted on a nearby plane) - Not that flower! The other one! VANESSA: - Which one? BARRY: - That flower. (The plane is now pointed at a fat guy in a flowered shirt. He freaks out and tries to take a picture of the plane) VANESSA: - I'm aiming at the flower!
BARRY: That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! (The plane hovers over the bee-flower) : Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. : Rotate around it. VANESSA: - This is insane, Barry! BARRY: - This's the only way I know how to fly. BUD: Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? (The plane is unrealistically hovering and spinning over the bee-flower) BARRY: Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! : Just drop it. Be a part of it. : Aim for the center! : Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! : Come on, already. (The bees scatter and the plane safely lands) VANESSA: Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly!
BARRY: - Yes! (Vanessa is about to high-five Barry) No high-five! VANESSA: - Right. ADAM: Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? BARRY: What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! ADAM: - Thank you. BARRY: - But we're not done yet. : Listen, everyone! : This runway is covered with the last pollen : from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. : That means this is our last chance. : We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. : If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say?
: Are we going to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains? BEES: We're bees! BEE WHO LIKES KEYCHAINS: Keychain! BARRY: Then follow me! Except Keychain. POLLEN JOCK #1: Hold on, Barry. Here. : You've earned this. BARRY: Yeah! : I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. (The Pollen Jocks throw Barry a nectar-collecting gun. Barry catches it) Oh, yeah. JANET: That's our Barry. (Barry and the Pollen Jocks get pollen from the flowers on the plane) (Flash forward in time and the Pollen Jocks are flying over NYC) : (Barry pollinates the flowers in Vanessa's shop and then heads to Central Park) BOY IN PARK: Mom! The bees are back! ADAM: (Putting on his Krelman hat) If anybody needs
to make a call, now's the time. : I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! (The bee honey factories are back up and running) (Meanwhile at Vanessa's shop) VANESSA: (To customer) Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Can I help who's next? : Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. (There is a room in the shop where Barry does legal work for other animals. He is currently talking with a Cow) COW: Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! : Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! BARRY: I had no idea. VANESSA: Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? BARRY: Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. MOOSEBLOOD: Sorry I'm late. COW: He's a lawyer too?
MOOSEBLOOD: Ma'am, I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. VANESSA: Have a great afternoon! : Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. BARRY: No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. VANESSA: You're a lifesaver, Barry. Can I help who's next? BARRY: All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. VANESSA: Thank you, Barry! (Ken walks by on the sidewalk and sees the "bee-approved honey" in Vanessa's shop) KEN: That bee is living my life!! ANDY: Let it go, Kenny. KEN: - When will this nightmare end?! ANDY: - Let it all go. BARRY: - Beautiful day to fly. POLLEN JOCK:
- Sure is. BARRY: Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. (Barry recreates the scene near the beginning of the movie where he flies through the box kite. The movie fades to black and the credits being) [--after credits; No scene can be seen but the characters can be heard talking over the credits--] You have got to start thinking bee, my friend! :
- Thinking bee!
- Me? BARRY: (Talking over singer) Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. : I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Can we stop here? SINGER: Oh, BarryBARRY: I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! SINGER: All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. BARRY: I had virtually no rehearsal for that.
2023.06.09 00:20 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
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2023.06.08 23:40 AbsolutusVirtus [Blue] Brand new Goyard Watch Travel Roll in Rare Goyard Green - 100 spots at $35.00/ea with NO spot limit.
| Item Name: | Brand new Goyard Watch Travel Roll in Rare Goyard Green |
|---|---|
| Price: | $3,500.00 |
| # of Spots: | 100 @ $35.00/Spot |
| Price Justification: | Sold for $1,979.00 on 04/21/2023 but grey and used |
| Price Justification: | Available for $3,294.00 but black and used |
| Price Justification: | Available for $3,178.00 but black |
| Price Justification: | Available for $3,000.00 but black and used |
| Price Justification: | Available for $2,994.99 but black and used |
| Price Justification: | Available for $2,900.00 but grey |
| Price Justification: | Available for $2,760.96 but grey |
| Price Justification: | Available for $2,749.00 but black and "gently used |
| Price Justification: | Available for $2,500.00 but red and used |
| Price Justification: | Available for $2,200.00 but black and brown and used |
| Price Justification: | I can not find and p2p comps. If you find any, please share. |
| Call spots? | Y |
| Spot limit per person? | No |
| Location/Country: | USA |
| Will ship international? | USA ONLY |
| Timestamp/pics: | Album + Timestamp |
| Escrow: | I am for leezy36 |
| Description: | Up for raffle is rare Goyard watch travel roll in Goyard Green. Does not exist in this color in America on website. VVIP color. Brand new with tags purchased 6/2/2023, dust bag and shopping bag. Retail ~3K for plain ones but can’t get this green at all anywhere. Good luck with raffle! |
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2023.06.08 23:02 Cocao_Nibs The Duelist in Purple Armor v2 Remastered, Chapter 2
FirstNext
Well, it only took Canada burning and the East Coast turning into smoky rendition of a Mexico filter for this chapter to finally reach completion. Regularly-scheduled programming should hopefully resume after July 4th. Until then, drink some water, don't do gender reveals in the forest, and hang in there, guys!
Pursuant to Imperial Decree 10928, and in recognition of the reservist nature of the unit, the 1st Rocket Artillery Regiment has been found to satisfy the standards outlined in the Decree. However, in light of the significant budget and nonmaterial resource allocations that were required to bring the aforementioned unit up to levels considered satisfactory by existing standards, additional considerations beyond readiness and training levels must be taken into account.
Throughout the appeals process, you have repeatedly indicated that you believe rocket artillery to still have a place on the modern battlefield, citing recent reports from the Terran Planetary District command of the Sol System sector, as well as early after-action reports from the Intervention on Raknos, which you claim to support your argument. However, further investigation into this claim by independent analysts on behalf of Armored Warfare Command has found it to hold no merit in light of the recent restructuring outlined in detail in prior communications. Simply put, neither the Empress, nor her advisors, believe that the maintenance and garrisoning of units intended strictly for low-intensity counter-insurgency operations remains doctrinally viable.
Additionally, the excessive monetary and nonmonetary resources you requested in preparation for the evaluation, in light of the on-par, verging on substandard performance of the 1st Rocket Artillery Regiment, even accounting for the large number of fresh troops that needed to be drawn down from other posts to fill out its ranks, is highly suggestive on the part of you, the honorable Ashira Rakishal. This discrepancy is of high importance, and you may rest assured that it has already been publicly filed by the time this letter appears in your inbox.
Such a discrepancy is indicative of either incompetence or corruption on your part. Commanding officers may face demotion or a possible dishonorable discharge for the former, or, for the latter, a fine totalling no more than one-and-a-half times the estimated sum of the damages assessed, guaranteed dishonorable discharge and a potential prison term of no more than four years. Due to there being no evidence to suggest the latter, the former approach has been suggested by the Armored Warfare Command. Effective fourteen (14) days after this order is signed, your rank will be reduced and you will be relieved of commanding the Regiment. You may be restationed at this time, and your government-issued devices may be deactivated to facilitate this restationing. The 1st Rocket Artillery Division, in accordance with Decree 10928, will be dissolved and its assets relocated to other units wherever possible. Any remaining property will be auctioned under section 12.57.3(g) of the Naval and Marine Surplus Handling Act of 651 at the Val’tira Central Forwarding Depot.
Ashira finished reading the letter, but the words meant nothing to her. She hadn't slept in half a week, if not longer, in anticipation of the results from her hearing. In fact, she'd hardly gotten up from her desk; the 1st RAR was on leave until the final verdict would be announced publicly, and it was all she could do but to refresh her inbox every few minutes and watch mindless clips in the background that she hardly heard and never managed to remember a word from.
She tried reading it again, but the letters seemed to float off the screen, each one wrapped in a halo of bluish white screen glow. Nothing made sense.
'We were found to be satisfactory, but then… why does it talk about my rank? Am I getting promoted? There was something about dishonorable discharges, too, so… are some of my girls getting let go? I guess I will have to break the news to them. And it said something about budget overruns… well, mom still owes me from when she forgot to get me anything for my eighteenth last month, so I guess she can pay them back for all the equipment and training I had to authorize…'
Her thoughts were already drifting off into a vague haze when her stomach made a low noise, reminding her of the fact that she hadn't eaten in hours, mostly because her supply of food had run dry. Almost in a trance, she rose from her desk and, almost on autopilot, set about getting ready to go out and do some shopping, as she always did. The floor of her living quarters was almost entirely hidden by weeks-old discarded packaging, mountains of dirty clothes, and bottles half-filled with liquid that was either expired juice or urine. Narrow paths snaked through the mess; one to the bathroom, one to her bed, and one more still to the door, which she now slowly shambled towards.
Ashira pulled a pair of battered combat boots over her bare feet - she'd run out of socks that didn't offend her senses some weeks prior - without bothering to lace them, shoved her wallet into the front pocket of the fireproof jumpsuit she wore with absolutely nothing underneath and hadn't changed out of all week, and shoved the door open to head out. Immediately, the smell - or, perhaps, a lack thereof - of the corridor hit her. All the sleeping quarters were locked. It was quiet. Though her boots were heavy, her footsteps barely made a noise as she plodded along the thick, purple and topaz-blue carpet that lined the floor.
The door to the lobby was propped open by a cleaner's cart, and a heavy perfume of chemical detergents wafted through the opening as she approached. In the lobby was a small, older Helkam male, with his long and, in places, graying hair tied back with a beige bandana that matched his civilian contractor's coveralls, just as his green noise-canceling headphones matched the company logo on his uniform. He was dutifully mopping the already nigh-spotless polished stone floor, and there was only a narrow dry strip connecting doorway to doorway.
“‘Scuse me,” she mumbled, tapping him on the shoulder to alert him to her presence. “Coming through.”
He flinched away from her touch, and she flinched away from him, as though his own shock was contagious. “The fuck, you touch me!?” He exclaimed, whipping around to face her, mop at the ready like a Turox-prod. His face burned a pale but furious violet, contorted with fear and a readiness to fight. But, just as suddenly as he’d come to face her, his expression became one of confusion. His mop dipped down, and they stood in silence for a split second that seemed to drag on for entire minutes. Then, he made an odd face, as if of disgust or contempt, and stepped aside, motioning for her to pass by him.
Ashira would have been puzzled by this, if only she were not so frazzled and caught up in her own thoughts. She stepped outside and was immediately hit by a cool breeze; it was night out, and the wind blew in just as it always did. Not that it bothered her much; over the previous months, she had found that it didn’t seem to affect her very much. The only reason she wasn’t feeling the full brunt of the evening gales was that the buildings around the officer’s quarters were mostly two- and three-story affairs, their height and old, weathered stone cladding the last specters of the prominence and prestige the base enjoyed in the long-before times. Before the Unification Wars were but a distant memory. Before the Periphery had become the final, unconquerable frontier. Before the Empress-damned mess that was Raknos. Before Rocket Artillery had become hopelessly obsolete.
The wind blew, relentless and steadfast, as she trudged towards the only place on-base that still had its lights on. The general store. She didn’t know what she wanted to buy there, nor if there would indeed be anything on the shelves that she’d want to buy, but she felt she had to try, anyway. The only rest she could get now was chemically-assisted, either through over-the-counter sleeping pills, or copious volumes of booze, or, when the going got particularly rough, a combination of both. She was vaguely aware of the damage she was probably inflicting upon her organs, but she figured that they were a worthy sacrifice. Still, some days she couldn't fall asleep, even boozed up and medicated as much as she would dare, so she would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, hoping that the splitting headaches she would get from that chemical cocktail would make her ears ring loud enough to drown out her intrusive thoughts.
The store wasn't particularly warm when she entered, and it reeked of cigarette smoke and mildew as always. The nearest set of shelves to the door were stocked with bags of some sort of imported breaded meat snacks labeled Pufriyah - Ancestral Recipe, Modern Taste! across the top shelf and cases of Red Grains across the bottom, as if some long-forgotten planner had seen into the future and anticipated Ashira's shopping habits exactly. Without much thought, she pulled a case of the Reds off the bottom shelf, her back, which had been sore for months by then, crying out in pain that just barely cut through her apathy. She threw a few bags of the Pufriyah snacks on top of it, entirely indifferent to their name, slogan, and brown-furred chibi mascot that spoke to their Rakiri intended consumer base.
'It's all just carbs and protein at the end of the day,' she figured. It wasn't like she could taste much of them anyway, had she really cared to learn their flavor. It was close to a month prior that she'd caught a nasty cold, and her constant sleep deprivation and stress hadn't lent themselves to it clearing itself up on its own. Her senses of taste and smell were unnecessary to her whipping her unit into shape, she'd decided, once she learned that the antivirals she needed to take to make her symptoms clear up would need her to be on bed rest for three straight days. She could always take them later, anyway.
The bottles of Red Grain clanked against each other as Ashira heaved the case onto the checkout counter. The bags on top of it slid off, and she only just caught them in time. The noise awoke the lone cashier, another civilian contractor, from her nap atop her wobbly three-legged stool. She quite inelegantly hopped off of it and came to lean against the counter with one hand, the other lazily waving the scanner of a specialized Data-Slate over the merchandise.
"ID for the Reds," the cashier groggily slurred out, patting down her many pockets in search of a cigarette box. "Standard procedure, nothing personal against you."
Ashira stared at her, dumbfounded, for a few moments too many, before it hit her that she needed to pull up her Marine Profile on her Slate. Mumbling an apology mixed with an excuse, she reached into one of the few - albeit cavernously huge - pockets of her fireproof suit and produced the grimy government-issue device in question. The lock screen was set to her ID, just to make such common interactions go by quicker.
She pushed the Slate across the counter, expecting to get it slid back to her in a few moments, and maybe a manufactured smile and a nod if the cashier noticed the Rakishal House crest in the corner and realized she was of noble blood. But this time, none of that happened. The woman across from her frowned, squinting as she analyzed something about the ID, her face no more than perhaps a few centimeters from it. She looked up at Ashira, then back down at the ID, then back at her, and then all of a sudden her confusion melted into some odd mixture of shock and disgust. She wordlessly pushed the Slate back across the counter, scanned the case of Red Grain, and then motioned to a now very baffled and somewhat offended Ashira that she was free to leave.
In her sleep-deprived state, Ashira had barely the mental capacity to remember where the door was, much less to ponder the deeper meaning behind what had transpired. Vowing to come back the next day, after getting a good night's sleep, and get the insolent cashier fired, she trudged out of the shop, back to the officers' quarters, where the Helkam man was still toiling away in the lobby, now wiping down the Turox-leather seats, and into her own suite.
She brushed the most egregious of the trash from her bed, with the arm that wasn't clutching the spoils of her trek to her chest, and allowed gravity to gracelessly guide her into its soft, fitted-sheet embrace. With a sigh of barely-felt relief, she cracked the cap off her first bottle with her tusks and took a long, well-earned swig.
The next thing she knew, it was morning.
Everything hurt. Ashira's muscles all ached like she'd run every Deathshead Commando bootcamp course, back-to-back, without stopping. Her head felt like a bloated, rotten gourd, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Even though her eyes were closed, what little light made it through them felt as though it was piercing straight through her eyeballs and into her brain. However, through it all, she noted an odd, almost pleasant sensation that she hadn't felt in so long, she'd almost forgotten the word for it.
'Empress all-powerful, this must be the first time in almost a year that I've had a full night's sleep!'
Ashira would have kept laying there, exactly where she was. The room was quiet. No one needed her. Her unit was stood down for another few days. She could just stay in bed, in peace, and wait for the pain to subside. But the very second she considered that possibility, her bladder cried in agony, and she simultaneously came to the realizations that she would not be able to hold it in for even a minute longer, and that she was wearing her only set of relatively-clean clothes.
She pushed herself up and onto her feet, and that motion sent showers of sparks cascading through her vision, even as her eyes stayed firmly shut. Her ears rang from the pain as though she'd stuck her head between the prongs of a colossal tuning fork, her limbs felt numb as she stumbled through her room, and the only way she could tell up from down was from the direction gravity kept pulling her every time she lost her balance.
She hit the door frame to the bathroom by chance, only recognizing it as the right one by the light switch her elbow painfully caught. From there, she went entirely by feel. There was the sink, the towel rack, the soap dispenser, the shower door… and finally, having run out of wrong things to blindly grope around for, her hand bumped into the tank of the toilet. Even bending down made her head fill with the pounding beat of her heart, every pulse seeming to try and push her brain out of her skull through her eyes and ears. She nearly blacked out as she sat down.
The next thing Ashira knew, she was doubled over her sink, dry-heaving, her fireproof pants pulled back up around her waist but neither zipped shut nor clipped together at the front. She knew for certain that nothing had come up, because she was newly aware of the desiccated dryness in her mouth and throat, as if all her flesh had been replaced with fine-grit sandpaper. Still lacking the resolve to open her eyes, she blindly clawed at the knobs of the sink until water began to pour, and then began scooping handfuls of it into her mouth.
After a few gulps, she began to feel a bit better. Her mouth, though it still felt dry as ever, was at least now rid of the horrible, sour, metallic taste that she hadn't registered until it was gone, and the unintentional splashing of water onto her face did wonders in helping her start to truly wake up. The very next instant, though, a numbing pain spread across her hands and face, and down her throat. The water was freezing cold.
That didn't deter Ashira, though, and she kept drinking until she knew that she would not be able to swallow a drop more without throwing up. Her hands were numb from the frigid water, as was her face. Icy rivulets streamed down her chin and throat and under her unzipped collar, leaving cool, glistening trails across her breasts and stomach.
Somehow, this numbness that spread across her fingers and cheeks seemed to have carried over to her hangover, as well, though whether it was the rapid cooling, or the much-needed hydration, or both, she neither knew nor cared. Her head now hurt with the intensity of just any old headache, her skin did not feel two sizes too small for her organs, and her muscles and joints barely ached with any more intensity than they usually did.
She opened her eyes for the first time since she'd gotten out of bed, ready and eager to take full advantage of her hangover cure while its effects still lasted, and almost fell over as she stumbled away from the mirror in shock. The reflection in the mirror was decidedly not her.
Bloodshot eyes stared out at her from dark, sunken orbits; two craters on a puffy face rendered a waxy, pale bluish lilac by months of near-total involuntary isolation from the daylight. Raven hair framed that lifeless visage, once kept neat and short, now a wild, greasy, and, above all, long Seetcha's nest. It had once had lively sun-bleached streaks where her beret and headset did not fully cover it, from when she would ride head-out in her trusty command Ishtarti-603, but they were now mere faded tips spread unevenly through the carbon-black tangle.
The rest of her was not in much better shape. Her bust, though always on the fuller size, was nonetheless noticeably larger than it had been the last time Ashira had inspected her reflection, and doubtless was the cause of her incessant back pain. In the same moment, she became aware that her breasts rested not against the top of her six-pack - which, while rarely worked out and never particularly defined, had, in its mere presence, still been a point of quiet pride for her - but at the upper limits of a beer gut, whose faint outline was visible even under the baggy suit she was wearing for the umpteenth day in a row, and which stood as a testament to the inertia she had descended into while trying to force the RAR into motion.
'Fuck, there's the evidence of my battle. Mom was right, I do eat like a Turox before the slaughter. I have no self-control. Why do I even bother with this restructuring business if I can't even keep to my own damn fitness goals?' Her gloom, though deep and all-consuming while it weighed upon her soul, dissipated just as quickly as it set in. 'But I knew it would happen, so why does it surprise me? I knew going in that I was burning myself up in the present to keep future me warm. It's just a few kilos. A dozen at most. No big deal. Just need a bit more exercise for a month or two and I'll be right back in parade shape!'
It did, however, make her think to place an order with the on-base supply depot for some new clothes. With the Unification Day festivities looming, it would simply not do for this quite temporary distortion of her Noble figure to be so brazen, she firmly decided.
The order would have to wait, however. When Ashira brought out her government-issued Data-Slate from her front pocket in a familiar motion, already compiling a list of all the workout gear, field uniforms, and parade garb she would need in a size up, the device, in an apparent bout of unruliness, first resisted her efforts to turn it on, and when it was finally made to do so, simply boot-looped endlessly on the startup screen. For all intents and purposes, it was a Slate-shaped paperweight, and Ashira didn’t even have enough physical documents in her possession to make use of this one purpose it had left.
‘First my clothes, now the one Slate mom can’t track me on. What’s next, is my ID going to expire all of a sudden? Will my physical Chit card have a bad contact?’
There was only so much she could take at one time, so she decided to do the sensible thing and get something to eat before returning to dealing with her problems. She pulled out her Slate. It was almost noon.
'No one needs to see me like this. How can I command the regiment if they see me in such a state? I'll order breakfast - well, lunch now, but who's really counting? - and I can join everyone for dinner, once I get a chance to order in some new clothes, and shower, and maybe do something with my hair.'
With a practiced motion, so automatic it was almost a reflex, she swiped through the interface until she found what she was looking for. There, between Combatters forum sites, was a saved page for the Hungry Gal's order menu. Her chit was already saved in the system. All she needed was to tap on "Large Hot Meal #5 - Drink Combo" and…
CHIT DECLINED - PAYMENT BLOCKED
"That can't be right," Ashira muttered aloud as she tapped the button again, over and over, to the same effect. "It's a government card. Unless- ah, right, it must be the new policy they were talking about! Can't believe they made food expenses count as personal expenditure only, the nerve of these credit-pinching…"
She went into the payment details section of the page, switched the number to her personal one, and selected "Large Hot Meal #5 - Drink Combo" again. This time, a new message appeared.
INVALID ACCOUNT - DEACTIVATED
The gnawing hunger in her stomach disappeared in an instant, replaced by a solid iron bar of dread. Why was her account deactivated? Who could have done it? The only other person with access privileges was her own mother, and why would she…?
Ashira knew the answer. She didn't want to know it, to acknowledge that she knew it for fear of what it meant, but she did. With shaking hands, she opened the notification screen of her Slate, and saw she had unread messages from her family group chat. She tapped that notification, expecting a deluge of fury about her weight, her spending habits, her slovenly appearance in public, or any manner of other things, but there was but one message, sent earlier that morning. It was from her mother, indeed, but it was just four words long.
I got the letter.
She wanted to protest, to scream, "What letter could you possibly mean?," but she couldn't. A memory, hazy from the fog of insomnia that had dulled her thoughts at the time, played against her volition in her mind. The words hadn't made sense to her then, but they did now. Robotically, she closed the message from her mother and searched through her inbox for one marked with a government seal. She opened it, and read it in silence. The last few lines were the hardest to read, because by then the tears had begun to well up in her eyes.
It was over. Her career, her noble status, her finances, her life as she knew it… they were all gone, and it had taken just one letter to send it all crashing down.
submitted by Cocao_Nibs to Sexyspacebabes [link] [comments]
Well, it only took Canada burning and the East Coast turning into smoky rendition of a Mexico filter for this chapter to finally reach completion. Regularly-scheduled programming should hopefully resume after July 4th. Until then, drink some water, don't do gender reveals in the forest, and hang in there, guys!
Pursuant to Imperial Decree 10928, and in recognition of the reservist nature of the unit, the 1st Rocket Artillery Regiment has been found to satisfy the standards outlined in the Decree. However, in light of the significant budget and nonmaterial resource allocations that were required to bring the aforementioned unit up to levels considered satisfactory by existing standards, additional considerations beyond readiness and training levels must be taken into account.
Throughout the appeals process, you have repeatedly indicated that you believe rocket artillery to still have a place on the modern battlefield, citing recent reports from the Terran Planetary District command of the Sol System sector, as well as early after-action reports from the Intervention on Raknos, which you claim to support your argument. However, further investigation into this claim by independent analysts on behalf of Armored Warfare Command has found it to hold no merit in light of the recent restructuring outlined in detail in prior communications. Simply put, neither the Empress, nor her advisors, believe that the maintenance and garrisoning of units intended strictly for low-intensity counter-insurgency operations remains doctrinally viable.
Additionally, the excessive monetary and nonmonetary resources you requested in preparation for the evaluation, in light of the on-par, verging on substandard performance of the 1st Rocket Artillery Regiment, even accounting for the large number of fresh troops that needed to be drawn down from other posts to fill out its ranks, is highly suggestive on the part of you, the honorable Ashira Rakishal. This discrepancy is of high importance, and you may rest assured that it has already been publicly filed by the time this letter appears in your inbox.
Such a discrepancy is indicative of either incompetence or corruption on your part. Commanding officers may face demotion or a possible dishonorable discharge for the former, or, for the latter, a fine totalling no more than one-and-a-half times the estimated sum of the damages assessed, guaranteed dishonorable discharge and a potential prison term of no more than four years. Due to there being no evidence to suggest the latter, the former approach has been suggested by the Armored Warfare Command. Effective fourteen (14) days after this order is signed, your rank will be reduced and you will be relieved of commanding the Regiment. You may be restationed at this time, and your government-issued devices may be deactivated to facilitate this restationing. The 1st Rocket Artillery Division, in accordance with Decree 10928, will be dissolved and its assets relocated to other units wherever possible. Any remaining property will be auctioned under section 12.57.3(g) of the Naval and Marine Surplus Handling Act of 651 at the Val’tira Central Forwarding Depot.
Ashira finished reading the letter, but the words meant nothing to her. She hadn't slept in half a week, if not longer, in anticipation of the results from her hearing. In fact, she'd hardly gotten up from her desk; the 1st RAR was on leave until the final verdict would be announced publicly, and it was all she could do but to refresh her inbox every few minutes and watch mindless clips in the background that she hardly heard and never managed to remember a word from.
She tried reading it again, but the letters seemed to float off the screen, each one wrapped in a halo of bluish white screen glow. Nothing made sense.
'We were found to be satisfactory, but then… why does it talk about my rank? Am I getting promoted? There was something about dishonorable discharges, too, so… are some of my girls getting let go? I guess I will have to break the news to them. And it said something about budget overruns… well, mom still owes me from when she forgot to get me anything for my eighteenth last month, so I guess she can pay them back for all the equipment and training I had to authorize…'
Her thoughts were already drifting off into a vague haze when her stomach made a low noise, reminding her of the fact that she hadn't eaten in hours, mostly because her supply of food had run dry. Almost in a trance, she rose from her desk and, almost on autopilot, set about getting ready to go out and do some shopping, as she always did. The floor of her living quarters was almost entirely hidden by weeks-old discarded packaging, mountains of dirty clothes, and bottles half-filled with liquid that was either expired juice or urine. Narrow paths snaked through the mess; one to the bathroom, one to her bed, and one more still to the door, which she now slowly shambled towards.
Ashira pulled a pair of battered combat boots over her bare feet - she'd run out of socks that didn't offend her senses some weeks prior - without bothering to lace them, shoved her wallet into the front pocket of the fireproof jumpsuit she wore with absolutely nothing underneath and hadn't changed out of all week, and shoved the door open to head out. Immediately, the smell - or, perhaps, a lack thereof - of the corridor hit her. All the sleeping quarters were locked. It was quiet. Though her boots were heavy, her footsteps barely made a noise as she plodded along the thick, purple and topaz-blue carpet that lined the floor.
The door to the lobby was propped open by a cleaner's cart, and a heavy perfume of chemical detergents wafted through the opening as she approached. In the lobby was a small, older Helkam male, with his long and, in places, graying hair tied back with a beige bandana that matched his civilian contractor's coveralls, just as his green noise-canceling headphones matched the company logo on his uniform. He was dutifully mopping the already nigh-spotless polished stone floor, and there was only a narrow dry strip connecting doorway to doorway.
“‘Scuse me,” she mumbled, tapping him on the shoulder to alert him to her presence. “Coming through.”
He flinched away from her touch, and she flinched away from him, as though his own shock was contagious. “The fuck, you touch me!?” He exclaimed, whipping around to face her, mop at the ready like a Turox-prod. His face burned a pale but furious violet, contorted with fear and a readiness to fight. But, just as suddenly as he’d come to face her, his expression became one of confusion. His mop dipped down, and they stood in silence for a split second that seemed to drag on for entire minutes. Then, he made an odd face, as if of disgust or contempt, and stepped aside, motioning for her to pass by him.
Ashira would have been puzzled by this, if only she were not so frazzled and caught up in her own thoughts. She stepped outside and was immediately hit by a cool breeze; it was night out, and the wind blew in just as it always did. Not that it bothered her much; over the previous months, she had found that it didn’t seem to affect her very much. The only reason she wasn’t feeling the full brunt of the evening gales was that the buildings around the officer’s quarters were mostly two- and three-story affairs, their height and old, weathered stone cladding the last specters of the prominence and prestige the base enjoyed in the long-before times. Before the Unification Wars were but a distant memory. Before the Periphery had become the final, unconquerable frontier. Before the Empress-damned mess that was Raknos. Before Rocket Artillery had become hopelessly obsolete.
The wind blew, relentless and steadfast, as she trudged towards the only place on-base that still had its lights on. The general store. She didn’t know what she wanted to buy there, nor if there would indeed be anything on the shelves that she’d want to buy, but she felt she had to try, anyway. The only rest she could get now was chemically-assisted, either through over-the-counter sleeping pills, or copious volumes of booze, or, when the going got particularly rough, a combination of both. She was vaguely aware of the damage she was probably inflicting upon her organs, but she figured that they were a worthy sacrifice. Still, some days she couldn't fall asleep, even boozed up and medicated as much as she would dare, so she would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, hoping that the splitting headaches she would get from that chemical cocktail would make her ears ring loud enough to drown out her intrusive thoughts.
The store wasn't particularly warm when she entered, and it reeked of cigarette smoke and mildew as always. The nearest set of shelves to the door were stocked with bags of some sort of imported breaded meat snacks labeled Pufriyah - Ancestral Recipe, Modern Taste! across the top shelf and cases of Red Grains across the bottom, as if some long-forgotten planner had seen into the future and anticipated Ashira's shopping habits exactly. Without much thought, she pulled a case of the Reds off the bottom shelf, her back, which had been sore for months by then, crying out in pain that just barely cut through her apathy. She threw a few bags of the Pufriyah snacks on top of it, entirely indifferent to their name, slogan, and brown-furred chibi mascot that spoke to their Rakiri intended consumer base.
'It's all just carbs and protein at the end of the day,' she figured. It wasn't like she could taste much of them anyway, had she really cared to learn their flavor. It was close to a month prior that she'd caught a nasty cold, and her constant sleep deprivation and stress hadn't lent themselves to it clearing itself up on its own. Her senses of taste and smell were unnecessary to her whipping her unit into shape, she'd decided, once she learned that the antivirals she needed to take to make her symptoms clear up would need her to be on bed rest for three straight days. She could always take them later, anyway.
The bottles of Red Grain clanked against each other as Ashira heaved the case onto the checkout counter. The bags on top of it slid off, and she only just caught them in time. The noise awoke the lone cashier, another civilian contractor, from her nap atop her wobbly three-legged stool. She quite inelegantly hopped off of it and came to lean against the counter with one hand, the other lazily waving the scanner of a specialized Data-Slate over the merchandise.
"ID for the Reds," the cashier groggily slurred out, patting down her many pockets in search of a cigarette box. "Standard procedure, nothing personal against you."
Ashira stared at her, dumbfounded, for a few moments too many, before it hit her that she needed to pull up her Marine Profile on her Slate. Mumbling an apology mixed with an excuse, she reached into one of the few - albeit cavernously huge - pockets of her fireproof suit and produced the grimy government-issue device in question. The lock screen was set to her ID, just to make such common interactions go by quicker.
She pushed the Slate across the counter, expecting to get it slid back to her in a few moments, and maybe a manufactured smile and a nod if the cashier noticed the Rakishal House crest in the corner and realized she was of noble blood. But this time, none of that happened. The woman across from her frowned, squinting as she analyzed something about the ID, her face no more than perhaps a few centimeters from it. She looked up at Ashira, then back down at the ID, then back at her, and then all of a sudden her confusion melted into some odd mixture of shock and disgust. She wordlessly pushed the Slate back across the counter, scanned the case of Red Grain, and then motioned to a now very baffled and somewhat offended Ashira that she was free to leave.
In her sleep-deprived state, Ashira had barely the mental capacity to remember where the door was, much less to ponder the deeper meaning behind what had transpired. Vowing to come back the next day, after getting a good night's sleep, and get the insolent cashier fired, she trudged out of the shop, back to the officers' quarters, where the Helkam man was still toiling away in the lobby, now wiping down the Turox-leather seats, and into her own suite.
She brushed the most egregious of the trash from her bed, with the arm that wasn't clutching the spoils of her trek to her chest, and allowed gravity to gracelessly guide her into its soft, fitted-sheet embrace. With a sigh of barely-felt relief, she cracked the cap off her first bottle with her tusks and took a long, well-earned swig.
The next thing she knew, it was morning.
Everything hurt. Ashira's muscles all ached like she'd run every Deathshead Commando bootcamp course, back-to-back, without stopping. Her head felt like a bloated, rotten gourd, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Even though her eyes were closed, what little light made it through them felt as though it was piercing straight through her eyeballs and into her brain. However, through it all, she noted an odd, almost pleasant sensation that she hadn't felt in so long, she'd almost forgotten the word for it.
'Empress all-powerful, this must be the first time in almost a year that I've had a full night's sleep!'
Ashira would have kept laying there, exactly where she was. The room was quiet. No one needed her. Her unit was stood down for another few days. She could just stay in bed, in peace, and wait for the pain to subside. But the very second she considered that possibility, her bladder cried in agony, and she simultaneously came to the realizations that she would not be able to hold it in for even a minute longer, and that she was wearing her only set of relatively-clean clothes.
She pushed herself up and onto her feet, and that motion sent showers of sparks cascading through her vision, even as her eyes stayed firmly shut. Her ears rang from the pain as though she'd stuck her head between the prongs of a colossal tuning fork, her limbs felt numb as she stumbled through her room, and the only way she could tell up from down was from the direction gravity kept pulling her every time she lost her balance.
She hit the door frame to the bathroom by chance, only recognizing it as the right one by the light switch her elbow painfully caught. From there, she went entirely by feel. There was the sink, the towel rack, the soap dispenser, the shower door… and finally, having run out of wrong things to blindly grope around for, her hand bumped into the tank of the toilet. Even bending down made her head fill with the pounding beat of her heart, every pulse seeming to try and push her brain out of her skull through her eyes and ears. She nearly blacked out as she sat down.
The next thing Ashira knew, she was doubled over her sink, dry-heaving, her fireproof pants pulled back up around her waist but neither zipped shut nor clipped together at the front. She knew for certain that nothing had come up, because she was newly aware of the desiccated dryness in her mouth and throat, as if all her flesh had been replaced with fine-grit sandpaper. Still lacking the resolve to open her eyes, she blindly clawed at the knobs of the sink until water began to pour, and then began scooping handfuls of it into her mouth.
After a few gulps, she began to feel a bit better. Her mouth, though it still felt dry as ever, was at least now rid of the horrible, sour, metallic taste that she hadn't registered until it was gone, and the unintentional splashing of water onto her face did wonders in helping her start to truly wake up. The very next instant, though, a numbing pain spread across her hands and face, and down her throat. The water was freezing cold.
That didn't deter Ashira, though, and she kept drinking until she knew that she would not be able to swallow a drop more without throwing up. Her hands were numb from the frigid water, as was her face. Icy rivulets streamed down her chin and throat and under her unzipped collar, leaving cool, glistening trails across her breasts and stomach.
Somehow, this numbness that spread across her fingers and cheeks seemed to have carried over to her hangover, as well, though whether it was the rapid cooling, or the much-needed hydration, or both, she neither knew nor cared. Her head now hurt with the intensity of just any old headache, her skin did not feel two sizes too small for her organs, and her muscles and joints barely ached with any more intensity than they usually did.
She opened her eyes for the first time since she'd gotten out of bed, ready and eager to take full advantage of her hangover cure while its effects still lasted, and almost fell over as she stumbled away from the mirror in shock. The reflection in the mirror was decidedly not her.
Bloodshot eyes stared out at her from dark, sunken orbits; two craters on a puffy face rendered a waxy, pale bluish lilac by months of near-total involuntary isolation from the daylight. Raven hair framed that lifeless visage, once kept neat and short, now a wild, greasy, and, above all, long Seetcha's nest. It had once had lively sun-bleached streaks where her beret and headset did not fully cover it, from when she would ride head-out in her trusty command Ishtarti-603, but they were now mere faded tips spread unevenly through the carbon-black tangle.
The rest of her was not in much better shape. Her bust, though always on the fuller size, was nonetheless noticeably larger than it had been the last time Ashira had inspected her reflection, and doubtless was the cause of her incessant back pain. In the same moment, she became aware that her breasts rested not against the top of her six-pack - which, while rarely worked out and never particularly defined, had, in its mere presence, still been a point of quiet pride for her - but at the upper limits of a beer gut, whose faint outline was visible even under the baggy suit she was wearing for the umpteenth day in a row, and which stood as a testament to the inertia she had descended into while trying to force the RAR into motion.
'Fuck, there's the evidence of my battle. Mom was right, I do eat like a Turox before the slaughter. I have no self-control. Why do I even bother with this restructuring business if I can't even keep to my own damn fitness goals?' Her gloom, though deep and all-consuming while it weighed upon her soul, dissipated just as quickly as it set in. 'But I knew it would happen, so why does it surprise me? I knew going in that I was burning myself up in the present to keep future me warm. It's just a few kilos. A dozen at most. No big deal. Just need a bit more exercise for a month or two and I'll be right back in parade shape!'
It did, however, make her think to place an order with the on-base supply depot for some new clothes. With the Unification Day festivities looming, it would simply not do for this quite temporary distortion of her Noble figure to be so brazen, she firmly decided.
The order would have to wait, however. When Ashira brought out her government-issued Data-Slate from her front pocket in a familiar motion, already compiling a list of all the workout gear, field uniforms, and parade garb she would need in a size up, the device, in an apparent bout of unruliness, first resisted her efforts to turn it on, and when it was finally made to do so, simply boot-looped endlessly on the startup screen. For all intents and purposes, it was a Slate-shaped paperweight, and Ashira didn’t even have enough physical documents in her possession to make use of this one purpose it had left.
‘First my clothes, now the one Slate mom can’t track me on. What’s next, is my ID going to expire all of a sudden? Will my physical Chit card have a bad contact?’
There was only so much she could take at one time, so she decided to do the sensible thing and get something to eat before returning to dealing with her problems. She pulled out her Slate. It was almost noon.
'No one needs to see me like this. How can I command the regiment if they see me in such a state? I'll order breakfast - well, lunch now, but who's really counting? - and I can join everyone for dinner, once I get a chance to order in some new clothes, and shower, and maybe do something with my hair.'
With a practiced motion, so automatic it was almost a reflex, she swiped through the interface until she found what she was looking for. There, between Combatters forum sites, was a saved page for the Hungry Gal's order menu. Her chit was already saved in the system. All she needed was to tap on "Large Hot Meal #5 - Drink Combo" and…
CHIT DECLINED - PAYMENT BLOCKED
"That can't be right," Ashira muttered aloud as she tapped the button again, over and over, to the same effect. "It's a government card. Unless- ah, right, it must be the new policy they were talking about! Can't believe they made food expenses count as personal expenditure only, the nerve of these credit-pinching…"
She went into the payment details section of the page, switched the number to her personal one, and selected "Large Hot Meal #5 - Drink Combo" again. This time, a new message appeared.
INVALID ACCOUNT - DEACTIVATED
The gnawing hunger in her stomach disappeared in an instant, replaced by a solid iron bar of dread. Why was her account deactivated? Who could have done it? The only other person with access privileges was her own mother, and why would she…?
Ashira knew the answer. She didn't want to know it, to acknowledge that she knew it for fear of what it meant, but she did. With shaking hands, she opened the notification screen of her Slate, and saw she had unread messages from her family group chat. She tapped that notification, expecting a deluge of fury about her weight, her spending habits, her slovenly appearance in public, or any manner of other things, but there was but one message, sent earlier that morning. It was from her mother, indeed, but it was just four words long.
I got the letter.
She wanted to protest, to scream, "What letter could you possibly mean?," but she couldn't. A memory, hazy from the fog of insomnia that had dulled her thoughts at the time, played against her volition in her mind. The words hadn't made sense to her then, but they did now. Robotically, she closed the message from her mother and searched through her inbox for one marked with a government seal. She opened it, and read it in silence. The last few lines were the hardest to read, because by then the tears had begun to well up in her eyes.
It was over. Her career, her noble status, her finances, her life as she knew it… they were all gone, and it had taken just one letter to send it all crashing down.
2023.06.08 21:00 KiraWinchester H: trades (list below) W: Vanguard's Scout armor with +S/Cav or items off wish list
Wish List: Teslas below, AA/SS/1S melee below, rare apparel/masks, or Vanguard Scout armor with +Strength/Cavalier
I still need the following Teslas: H/50c/25,,, Jug/50c/25,,, Troub/50c/25
I still need the following AA/SS/1S melee: cultist blade,,, gulper smacker
Complete Trade List: (Thank you for your time browsing this huge list!!!)
FIXERS: AA/25/15r,,, AA/25/15v,,, AA/50c/15v,,, AA/50vhc/25,,, AA/50L/25,,, AA/AP/25,,, AA/E/Dur,,, Ari/25/15r,,, Ari/E/15r,,, Ari/E/25,,, B/25/15v,,, B/50L/25,,, BAP/25,,, Exe/25/25,,, Exe/50c/25,,, Exe/AP/25,,, Exe/E/25,,, F/50c/25,,, GouE/25,,, GS/50c/25,,, GS/E/25,,, H/50c/25,,, Jug/50c/25,,, Jug/AP/25,,, Junk/25/15r,,, Junk/50c/15v,,, Junk/50c/25,,, Junk/50L/25,,, Junk/AP/25,,, Junk/E/15v,,, Med/25/25,,, Med/50c/25,,, Med/AP/25,,, Mu/AP/25,,, MS/50c/25,,, MS/AP/25,,, N/AP/25,,, N/E/25,,, Q/25/15r,,, Q/25/15v,,, Q/AP/25,,, St/50c/25,,, St/AP/25,,, St/E/25,,, Su/50c/25,,, Su/AP/25,,, Su/E/25,,, T/50c/25,,, T/AP/25,,, TS/25/15r,,, TS/25/15v,,, TS/50vhc/25,,, TS/AP/25,,, V/AP/25,,, Z/25/25,,, Z/E/25
HANDMADES: AA/E/15v,,, Junk/25/15r,,, MS/E/25,,, Mu/E/25,,, Mu/50c/25,,, Q/50vhc/25
HEAVY WEAPONS: AA/25/90 AGL,,, AA/25/15r Cryolator,,, AA/25/90 Harpoon Gun,,, As/25A/90 Fatman,,, As/25/90 Gatling Plasma,,, B/E/Gho 50cal,,, B/25A/90 Cryolator,,, B/50L/90 Cryolator,,, B/25A/90 Missile Launcher,,, B/50vhc/90 Missile Launcher,,, B/50L/90 AGL,,, Exe/50c/15r Flamer,,, Exe/25A/90 Gatling Plas,,, Exe/E/25 LMG,,, F/50c/25 Cryolator,,, Q/25/15v LMG,,, Q/50L/90 Minigun,,, TS/25/15r Gatling Gun,,, TS/E/25 Minigun,,, V/25/15r 50cal,,, V/25A/90 Cryolator,,, V/25/25 Gatling Gun,,, V/50L/90 Harpoon Gun,,, Z/E/90 LMG
MELEE: AA/SS/1S Death Tambo,,, AA/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, AA/40P/1S Gulper Smacker,,, AA/SS/1S Pole Hook,,, AA/50c/15v Power Fist,,, AA/SS/1S Super Sledge,,, Ari/SS/1S Shovel,,, Ari/SS/1S Sledgehammer,,, As/40P/1S Chainsaw,,, As/40P/1S Drill,,, As/SS/1S Sheepsquatch Staff,,, B/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, B/50c/1S Drill,,, B/SS/25 Gulper Smacker,,, B/SS/25 Meat Hook,,, B/SS/1S Power Fist,,, Exe/40P/25 Drill,,, Exe/50c/1S Power Fist,,, Ext/SS/1S Drill,,, F/40P/40 Chainsaw,,, GS/SS/1S Chainsaw,,, GS/SS/1S Ripper,,, I/SS/1S Death Tambo,,, I/SS/1S Golf Club,,, I/SS/1S Super Sledge,,, Junk/SS/1S Assaultron Blade,,, Junk/SS/1S Security Baton,,, Mu/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, MS/SS/1S Shishkebab,,, Su/SS/1S Spear,,, Su/SS/1S Tire Iron,,, Troub/SS/1S Bowie Knife,,, Troub/SS/1S Golf Club,,, V/SS/1S Combat Knife,,, V/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, V/SS/1S Pole Hook,,, V/SS/1S Sledgehammer,,, Z/SS/1S Fire Axe,,, Z/SS/1S Knuckles,,, Z/SS/1S Pipe Wrench
RAILWAYS: AA/50c/25,,, AA/50vhc/25,,, AA/E/15v,,, AA/E/25,,, Ari/25/15r,,, B/50vhc/25,,, B/E/15r,,, B/E/90,,, F/50c/25,,, F/E/25,,, GS/25/25,,, GS/50c/25,,, H/50c/25,,, I/25/25,,, I/50c/25,,, Junk/E/25,,, Q/50L/90,,, St/50c/25,,, Su/E/25,,, TS/50L/25,,, TS/50vhc/25,,, TS/50c/15r,,, TS/AP/25,,, TS/E/Dur,,, V/25/25,,, V/50c/25,,, Z/E/90
TESLAS: AA/25/15r,,, AA/50L/15r,,, AA/AP/25,,, B/25/Gho,,, Exe/25/15r,,, Ext/25/15r,,, F/25/15r,,, I/25/15r,,, Q/25/250,,, Q/AP/25,,, TS/25/15r,,, TS/25/25,,, V/25/250,,, V/25/Dur,,, V/50L/15r,,, Z/25/15r
AA/25/25 Assaultron Head,,, AA/50c/15v Crossbow,,, AA/50L/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, AA/25/25 Gamma Gun,,, AA/E/15r Hunting Rifle,,, B/AP/25 Compound Bow,,, B/25/25 Gauss Rifle,,, Exe/50c/25 Combat Rifle,,, Exe/50c/25 Double Barrel,,, Exe/E/25 Hunting Rifle,,, Exe/E/25 Lever Action,,, F/50c/15v Compound Bow,,, F/E/25 Double Barrel,,, F/50c/15v Thirst Zapper,,, GouE/25 Double Barrel,,, Gou25/25 Lever Action,,, GS/50c/25 Gamma Gun,,, Jug/E/25 Combat Rifle,,, Jug/50c/25 Laser Rifle,,, Junk/50c/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, Mu/50c/25 Crossbow,,, N/25/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, N/50c/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, Q/50c/25 Assaultron Head,,, Q/25/15r Combat Shotgun,,, Q/25/15r Plasma Rifle,,, St/50c/25 Crossbow,,, St/E/25 Single Action Revolver,,, Su/25/25 Radium Rifle,,, TS/25/15r Combat Rifle,,, TS/50c/25 Combat Rifle,,, V/50c/25 Bow,,, V/50L/25 Compound Bow,,, V/AP/25 Crossbow,,, V/25/15r Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, V/50c/25 Gauss Rifle
ARMOR: Aristocrat's Heavy Robot left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Assassin's Heavy Combat right leg with Strength/Sentinel,,, Assassin's Marine right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Assassin's T-45 right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Assassin's Trapper right arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Assassin's USA left arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim Heavy Robot right leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim Raider Power left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim USA right arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim USA right arm with AP/WWR,,, Auto Stim USA right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Auto Stim USA right leg with Strength/WWR,,, Bolstering FSA left leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Marine right arm with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Sturdy Combat left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Trapper chest with AP/Cavalier,,, Bolstering Trapper right arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Bolstering USA left arm with 7%LED/FDC,,, Bolstering USA left leg with slowed hungeWWR,,, Bolstering USA right leg with Charisma/Sentinel,,, Chameleon FSA left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon Heavy Leather right arm with AP/WWR,,, Chameleon Marine right leg with AP/HDT,,, Chameleon Raider Power right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon Robot chest with 7%LED/WWR,,, Chameleon Trapper left leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Chameleon USA chest with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Chameleon USA left arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon USA left leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Chameleon USA right arm with 7%LED/WWR,,, Chameleon USA right leg with AP/FDC,,, Cloaking Raider Power right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Cloaking USA right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Exterminator's FSA right arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Exterminator's FSA right leg with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Ghoul Slayer's FSA right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Life Saving Combat left leg with AP/WWR,,, Life Saving Trapper left leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Life Saving Trapper right leg with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Life Saving USA left arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Life Saving USA right arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Mutant's Excavator left arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Mutant's FSA chest with 7%LED/WWR,,, Mutant's FSA left leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Nocturnal Excavator right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Nocturnal Marine right arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Nocturnal USA right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Combat left arm with +25 Cryo resist/Cavalier,,, Overeater's Excavator right leg with Luck/Cavalier,,, Overeater's FSA chest with Endurance/Sentinel,,, Overeater's FSA right arm with Luck/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Combat left arm with 7%LED/JWR,,, Overeater's Heavy Combat right leg with Perception/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Metal left leg with Strength/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Raider left arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Overeater's Heavy Raider left leg with Charisma/WWR,,, Overeater's Heavy Robot chest with +25 Rad resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Robot left leg with Agility/WWR,,, Overeater's Heavy Robot right leg with +25 Cryo resist/Cavalier,,, Overeater's Marine left leg with slowed hungeWWR,,, Overeater's Marine right arm with +25 Rad resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Marine right leg with +25 Fire resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Metal left leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Robot right leg with Endurance/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Trapper left arm with AP/HDT,,, Overeater's Trapper left leg with +25 Fire resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Trapper left leg with Perception/WWR,,, Overeater's Trapper right arm with Luck/WWR,,, Overeater's T-60 left arm with +25% Env resist/WWR,,, Overeater's T-60 left arm slowed hungeWWR,,, Overeater's USA chest with +25 Cryo resist/HDT,,, Overeater's USA left arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's USA right leg with slowed hungeFDC,,, Overeater's Wood left arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Regenerating Heavy Leather right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Regenerating Heavy Raider right arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Troubleshooter's Excavator right arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Troubleshooter's Marine left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Troubleshooter's Sturdy Metal right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Unyielding FSA chest with Intelligence/Dur,,, Unyielding FSA left arm with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding FSA left leg with AP/FDC,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat chest with Strength/HDT,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat right arm with +25 Poison resist/JWR,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat right leg with 7%LED/Less limb dam,,, Unyielding Heavy Leather right arm with AP/HDT,,, Unyielding Heavy Metal right leg with Endurance/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Heavy Robot chest with +25 cryo resist/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Marine right arm with +25 Rad resist/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Marine right leg with +25 Fire resist/WWR,,, Unyielding Metal chest with AP/HDT,,, Unyielding Metal right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Robot right arm with Agility/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Sturdy Leather left arm with Strength/WWR,,, Unyielding Sturdy Leather left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Sturdy Metal chest with AP/WWR,,, Unyielding Sturdy Metal left arm with +25 Rad resist/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Trapper left leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Trapper right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Unyielding USA chest with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA left arm with +25% Env resist/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA left leg with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA right leg with +25 Poison resist/JWR,,, Unyielding Wood chest with Luck/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's Excavator right leg with Intelligence/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's FSA left arm with slowed hungeSentinel,,, Vanguards's FSA right leg with Strength/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's Heavy Leather right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Vanguard's Heavy Robot right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Vanguard's Marine right arm with AP/HDT,,, Vanguard's Sturdy Robot left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's Sturdy Robot right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Vanguard's USA chest with Luck/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's USA left arm with Intelligence/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's USA left leg with Strength/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's USA right arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's USA right leg with Strenght/Cavalier(2),,, Vanguard's Wood chest with Strength/Sentinel,,, Weightless USA left arm with Strength/Sentinel,,, Weightless USA right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Zealot's USA right arm with AP/WWR,,, Zealot's USA right leg with AP/WWR
PLANS: Alien Blaster,,, Assault rifle,,, Barbed walking cane,,, Baseball bat rocket,,, Baseball bat searing puncturing rocket,,, Bear arm,,, Bear arm heavy mod,,, Boxing glove lead lining,,, Camo Backpack,,, Cave cricket tube,,, Deathclaw gauntlet,,, Dense marine armor torso,,, Dense trapper armor torso,,, Fire station bell,,, Flannel shirt & jeans,,, Hatchet electro fusion,,, Junkyard fountain,,, Machete sacrificial blade,,, Meat Tenderizer,,, Nuka girl area rug,,, Pepper Shaker,,, Pitchfork flamer,,, Protective lining marine underarmor,,, Protective lining raider underarmor,,, Puncturing pole hook,,, Radioactive barrel,,, Raw cement barricade,,, Scorchbeast queen plushie,,, Scorched tube,,, Shielded lining casual underarmor,,, Shielded lining marine underarmor,,, Shielded lining raider underarmor,,, Ski sword skate blade,,, Skiing outfit,,, Sledgehammer heavy searing sharp rocket,,, Small vault girl statue,,, Snallygaster plushie,,, Spiked walking cane,,, The Fixer,,, T-60 BOS knight paint,,, TV Aquarium,,, Ultracite emergency protocols,,, Undershirt & jeans,,, Vintage water cooler,,, WV state bird rug,,, Yao Guai tube,,, Cutting fluid recipe,,, Fasnacht donut recipe,,, Fasnacht sausage recipe,,, Healing salve Ash Heap recipe,,, Healing salve Cranberry Bog recipe,,, Healing salve Mire recipe,,, Formula P recipe,,,Stimpak Diffuser recipe,,, Tato salad recipe
APPAREL: Asylum Uniform Pink,,, Clean Spacesuit,,, Emmett Mountain hazmat suit,,, Garrahan Foreman Outfit and Helmet,,, Grey Fishermans Overalls,,, Hunter's Long Coat,,, Longshoreman Outfit,,, Skiing red and green outfit,,, Straight Jacket Clean,,, ,, Winter Jacket and Jeans
CHEMS: Addictol: 185,,, Berry Mentats: 661,,, Buffout: 1528,,, Calmex: 546,,, Daddy-O: 1074,,, Day Tripper: 805,,, Disease Cure: 415,,, Mentats: 1000,,, Overdrive: 580,,, Psycho: 2831,,, Psychobuff: 1372,,, Psychotats: 1252,,, X-cell: 347
FOOD: Canned meat stew: 65,,, Pepper: 2586,,, Salt: 994,,, Spices: 1440,,, Sugar Bombs(w/rads): 385
MODS: Enclave plasma aligned flamer mod,,, Enclave plasma aligned sniper barrel mod,,, Enclave plasma severe beta wave tuner
submitted by KiraWinchester to Market76 [link] [comments]
I still need the following Teslas: H/50c/25,,, Jug/50c/25,,, Troub/50c/25
I still need the following AA/SS/1S melee: cultist blade,,, gulper smacker
Complete Trade List: (Thank you for your time browsing this huge list!!!)
FIXERS: AA/25/15r,,, AA/25/15v,,, AA/50c/15v,,, AA/50vhc/25,,, AA/50L/25,,, AA/AP/25,,, AA/E/Dur,,, Ari/25/15r,,, Ari/E/15r,,, Ari/E/25,,, B/25/15v,,, B/50L/25,,, BAP/25,,, Exe/25/25,,, Exe/50c/25,,, Exe/AP/25,,, Exe/E/25,,, F/50c/25,,, GouE/25,,, GS/50c/25,,, GS/E/25,,, H/50c/25,,, Jug/50c/25,,, Jug/AP/25,,, Junk/25/15r,,, Junk/50c/15v,,, Junk/50c/25,,, Junk/50L/25,,, Junk/AP/25,,, Junk/E/15v,,, Med/25/25,,, Med/50c/25,,, Med/AP/25,,, Mu/AP/25,,, MS/50c/25,,, MS/AP/25,,, N/AP/25,,, N/E/25,,, Q/25/15r,,, Q/25/15v,,, Q/AP/25,,, St/50c/25,,, St/AP/25,,, St/E/25,,, Su/50c/25,,, Su/AP/25,,, Su/E/25,,, T/50c/25,,, T/AP/25,,, TS/25/15r,,, TS/25/15v,,, TS/50vhc/25,,, TS/AP/25,,, V/AP/25,,, Z/25/25,,, Z/E/25
HANDMADES: AA/E/15v,,, Junk/25/15r,,, MS/E/25,,, Mu/E/25,,, Mu/50c/25,,, Q/50vhc/25
HEAVY WEAPONS: AA/25/90 AGL,,, AA/25/15r Cryolator,,, AA/25/90 Harpoon Gun,,, As/25A/90 Fatman,,, As/25/90 Gatling Plasma,,, B/E/Gho 50cal,,, B/25A/90 Cryolator,,, B/50L/90 Cryolator,,, B/25A/90 Missile Launcher,,, B/50vhc/90 Missile Launcher,,, B/50L/90 AGL,,, Exe/50c/15r Flamer,,, Exe/25A/90 Gatling Plas,,, Exe/E/25 LMG,,, F/50c/25 Cryolator,,, Q/25/15v LMG,,, Q/50L/90 Minigun,,, TS/25/15r Gatling Gun,,, TS/E/25 Minigun,,, V/25/15r 50cal,,, V/25A/90 Cryolator,,, V/25/25 Gatling Gun,,, V/50L/90 Harpoon Gun,,, Z/E/90 LMG
MELEE: AA/SS/1S Death Tambo,,, AA/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, AA/40P/1S Gulper Smacker,,, AA/SS/1S Pole Hook,,, AA/50c/15v Power Fist,,, AA/SS/1S Super Sledge,,, Ari/SS/1S Shovel,,, Ari/SS/1S Sledgehammer,,, As/40P/1S Chainsaw,,, As/40P/1S Drill,,, As/SS/1S Sheepsquatch Staff,,, B/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, B/50c/1S Drill,,, B/SS/25 Gulper Smacker,,, B/SS/25 Meat Hook,,, B/SS/1S Power Fist,,, Exe/40P/25 Drill,,, Exe/50c/1S Power Fist,,, Ext/SS/1S Drill,,, F/40P/40 Chainsaw,,, GS/SS/1S Chainsaw,,, GS/SS/1S Ripper,,, I/SS/1S Death Tambo,,, I/SS/1S Golf Club,,, I/SS/1S Super Sledge,,, Junk/SS/1S Assaultron Blade,,, Junk/SS/1S Security Baton,,, Mu/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, MS/SS/1S Shishkebab,,, Su/SS/1S Spear,,, Su/SS/1S Tire Iron,,, Troub/SS/1S Bowie Knife,,, Troub/SS/1S Golf Club,,, V/SS/1S Combat Knife,,, V/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, V/SS/1S Pole Hook,,, V/SS/1S Sledgehammer,,, Z/SS/1S Fire Axe,,, Z/SS/1S Knuckles,,, Z/SS/1S Pipe Wrench
RAILWAYS: AA/50c/25,,, AA/50vhc/25,,, AA/E/15v,,, AA/E/25,,, Ari/25/15r,,, B/50vhc/25,,, B/E/15r,,, B/E/90,,, F/50c/25,,, F/E/25,,, GS/25/25,,, GS/50c/25,,, H/50c/25,,, I/25/25,,, I/50c/25,,, Junk/E/25,,, Q/50L/90,,, St/50c/25,,, Su/E/25,,, TS/50L/25,,, TS/50vhc/25,,, TS/50c/15r,,, TS/AP/25,,, TS/E/Dur,,, V/25/25,,, V/50c/25,,, Z/E/90
TESLAS: AA/25/15r,,, AA/50L/15r,,, AA/AP/25,,, B/25/Gho,,, Exe/25/15r,,, Ext/25/15r,,, F/25/15r,,, I/25/15r,,, Q/25/250,,, Q/AP/25,,, TS/25/15r,,, TS/25/25,,, V/25/250,,, V/25/Dur,,, V/50L/15r,,, Z/25/15r
AA/25/25 Assaultron Head,,, AA/50c/15v Crossbow,,, AA/50L/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, AA/25/25 Gamma Gun,,, AA/E/15r Hunting Rifle,,, B/AP/25 Compound Bow,,, B/25/25 Gauss Rifle,,, Exe/50c/25 Combat Rifle,,, Exe/50c/25 Double Barrel,,, Exe/E/25 Hunting Rifle,,, Exe/E/25 Lever Action,,, F/50c/15v Compound Bow,,, F/E/25 Double Barrel,,, F/50c/15v Thirst Zapper,,, GouE/25 Double Barrel,,, Gou25/25 Lever Action,,, GS/50c/25 Gamma Gun,,, Jug/E/25 Combat Rifle,,, Jug/50c/25 Laser Rifle,,, Junk/50c/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, Mu/50c/25 Crossbow,,, N/25/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, N/50c/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, Q/50c/25 Assaultron Head,,, Q/25/15r Combat Shotgun,,, Q/25/15r Plasma Rifle,,, St/50c/25 Crossbow,,, St/E/25 Single Action Revolver,,, Su/25/25 Radium Rifle,,, TS/25/15r Combat Rifle,,, TS/50c/25 Combat Rifle,,, V/50c/25 Bow,,, V/50L/25 Compound Bow,,, V/AP/25 Crossbow,,, V/25/15r Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, V/50c/25 Gauss Rifle
ARMOR: Aristocrat's Heavy Robot left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Assassin's Heavy Combat right leg with Strength/Sentinel,,, Assassin's Marine right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Assassin's T-45 right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Assassin's Trapper right arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Assassin's USA left arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim Heavy Robot right leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim Raider Power left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim USA right arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim USA right arm with AP/WWR,,, Auto Stim USA right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Auto Stim USA right leg with Strength/WWR,,, Bolstering FSA left leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Marine right arm with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Sturdy Combat left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Trapper chest with AP/Cavalier,,, Bolstering Trapper right arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Bolstering USA left arm with 7%LED/FDC,,, Bolstering USA left leg with slowed hungeWWR,,, Bolstering USA right leg with Charisma/Sentinel,,, Chameleon FSA left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon Heavy Leather right arm with AP/WWR,,, Chameleon Marine right leg with AP/HDT,,, Chameleon Raider Power right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon Robot chest with 7%LED/WWR,,, Chameleon Trapper left leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Chameleon USA chest with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Chameleon USA left arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon USA left leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Chameleon USA right arm with 7%LED/WWR,,, Chameleon USA right leg with AP/FDC,,, Cloaking Raider Power right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Cloaking USA right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Exterminator's FSA right arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Exterminator's FSA right leg with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Ghoul Slayer's FSA right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Life Saving Combat left leg with AP/WWR,,, Life Saving Trapper left leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Life Saving Trapper right leg with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Life Saving USA left arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Life Saving USA right arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Mutant's Excavator left arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Mutant's FSA chest with 7%LED/WWR,,, Mutant's FSA left leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Nocturnal Excavator right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Nocturnal Marine right arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Nocturnal USA right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Combat left arm with +25 Cryo resist/Cavalier,,, Overeater's Excavator right leg with Luck/Cavalier,,, Overeater's FSA chest with Endurance/Sentinel,,, Overeater's FSA right arm with Luck/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Combat left arm with 7%LED/JWR,,, Overeater's Heavy Combat right leg with Perception/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Metal left leg with Strength/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Raider left arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Overeater's Heavy Raider left leg with Charisma/WWR,,, Overeater's Heavy Robot chest with +25 Rad resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Robot left leg with Agility/WWR,,, Overeater's Heavy Robot right leg with +25 Cryo resist/Cavalier,,, Overeater's Marine left leg with slowed hungeWWR,,, Overeater's Marine right arm with +25 Rad resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Marine right leg with +25 Fire resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Metal left leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Robot right leg with Endurance/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Trapper left arm with AP/HDT,,, Overeater's Trapper left leg with +25 Fire resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Trapper left leg with Perception/WWR,,, Overeater's Trapper right arm with Luck/WWR,,, Overeater's T-60 left arm with +25% Env resist/WWR,,, Overeater's T-60 left arm slowed hungeWWR,,, Overeater's USA chest with +25 Cryo resist/HDT,,, Overeater's USA left arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's USA right leg with slowed hungeFDC,,, Overeater's Wood left arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Regenerating Heavy Leather right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Regenerating Heavy Raider right arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Troubleshooter's Excavator right arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Troubleshooter's Marine left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Troubleshooter's Sturdy Metal right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Unyielding FSA chest with Intelligence/Dur,,, Unyielding FSA left arm with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding FSA left leg with AP/FDC,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat chest with Strength/HDT,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat right arm with +25 Poison resist/JWR,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat right leg with 7%LED/Less limb dam,,, Unyielding Heavy Leather right arm with AP/HDT,,, Unyielding Heavy Metal right leg with Endurance/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Heavy Robot chest with +25 cryo resist/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Marine right arm with +25 Rad resist/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Marine right leg with +25 Fire resist/WWR,,, Unyielding Metal chest with AP/HDT,,, Unyielding Metal right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Robot right arm with Agility/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Sturdy Leather left arm with Strength/WWR,,, Unyielding Sturdy Leather left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Sturdy Metal chest with AP/WWR,,, Unyielding Sturdy Metal left arm with +25 Rad resist/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Trapper left leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Trapper right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Unyielding USA chest with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA left arm with +25% Env resist/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA left leg with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA right leg with +25 Poison resist/JWR,,, Unyielding Wood chest with Luck/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's Excavator right leg with Intelligence/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's FSA left arm with slowed hungeSentinel,,, Vanguards's FSA right leg with Strength/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's Heavy Leather right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Vanguard's Heavy Robot right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Vanguard's Marine right arm with AP/HDT,,, Vanguard's Sturdy Robot left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's Sturdy Robot right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Vanguard's USA chest with Luck/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's USA left arm with Intelligence/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's USA left leg with Strength/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's USA right arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's USA right leg with Strenght/Cavalier(2),,, Vanguard's Wood chest with Strength/Sentinel,,, Weightless USA left arm with Strength/Sentinel,,, Weightless USA right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Zealot's USA right arm with AP/WWR,,, Zealot's USA right leg with AP/WWR
PLANS: Alien Blaster,,, Assault rifle,,, Barbed walking cane,,, Baseball bat rocket,,, Baseball bat searing puncturing rocket,,, Bear arm,,, Bear arm heavy mod,,, Boxing glove lead lining,,, Camo Backpack,,, Cave cricket tube,,, Deathclaw gauntlet,,, Dense marine armor torso,,, Dense trapper armor torso,,, Fire station bell,,, Flannel shirt & jeans,,, Hatchet electro fusion,,, Junkyard fountain,,, Machete sacrificial blade,,, Meat Tenderizer,,, Nuka girl area rug,,, Pepper Shaker,,, Pitchfork flamer,,, Protective lining marine underarmor,,, Protective lining raider underarmor,,, Puncturing pole hook,,, Radioactive barrel,,, Raw cement barricade,,, Scorchbeast queen plushie,,, Scorched tube,,, Shielded lining casual underarmor,,, Shielded lining marine underarmor,,, Shielded lining raider underarmor,,, Ski sword skate blade,,, Skiing outfit,,, Sledgehammer heavy searing sharp rocket,,, Small vault girl statue,,, Snallygaster plushie,,, Spiked walking cane,,, The Fixer,,, T-60 BOS knight paint,,, TV Aquarium,,, Ultracite emergency protocols,,, Undershirt & jeans,,, Vintage water cooler,,, WV state bird rug,,, Yao Guai tube,,, Cutting fluid recipe,,, Fasnacht donut recipe,,, Fasnacht sausage recipe,,, Healing salve Ash Heap recipe,,, Healing salve Cranberry Bog recipe,,, Healing salve Mire recipe,,, Formula P recipe,,,Stimpak Diffuser recipe,,, Tato salad recipe
APPAREL: Asylum Uniform Pink,,, Clean Spacesuit,,, Emmett Mountain hazmat suit,,, Garrahan Foreman Outfit and Helmet,,, Grey Fishermans Overalls,,, Hunter's Long Coat,,, Longshoreman Outfit,,, Skiing red and green outfit,,, Straight Jacket Clean,,, ,, Winter Jacket and Jeans
CHEMS: Addictol: 185,,, Berry Mentats: 661,,, Buffout: 1528,,, Calmex: 546,,, Daddy-O: 1074,,, Day Tripper: 805,,, Disease Cure: 415,,, Mentats: 1000,,, Overdrive: 580,,, Psycho: 2831,,, Psychobuff: 1372,,, Psychotats: 1252,,, X-cell: 347
FOOD: Canned meat stew: 65,,, Pepper: 2586,,, Salt: 994,,, Spices: 1440,,, Sugar Bombs(w/rads): 385
MODS: Enclave plasma aligned flamer mod,,, Enclave plasma aligned sniper barrel mod,,, Enclave plasma severe beta wave tuner
2023.06.08 20:42 nussbomb [WTS] Top Notch Decants -- Creed, Louis Vuitton, Tom Ford, Roja, MFK and MORE -NUSS- (Decant)
Welcome to my Decant Shop, I really enjoy what I do!
QUICK PSA: Hey guys, I'm not sure what's going on with my messages but they don't seem to be loading correctly. I'm constantly having to uninstall and reinstall the app. So if you have an outstanding order with me and it's been longer than normal and I have not shipped it, LET ME KNOW. Alot of my messages are getting deleted.
Haven't posted the list in 20 DAYS so here we go!
SEVERAL NEW ADDITIONS THIS WEEK
New Frags/Restocks This Week:
15 mL - $43
30 mL - $72
50 mL - $109
15 mL - $38
30 mL - $69
50 mL - $99
60 mL - $132
15 mL - $46
30 mL - $85
15 mL - $42
30 mL - $75
50 mL - $115
15 mL - $49
30 mL - $89
15 mL - $36
30 mL - $69
50 mL - $109
100 mL - $199
15 mL - $35
30 mL - $65
50 mL - $105
15 mL - $39
30 mL - $74
50 mL - $115
10 mL - $29 (+3$ ea for 3 for 64)
15 mL - $41
30 mL - $74
30 mL - $115
15 mL - $44
30 mL - $85
50 mL - $125
15 mL - $52
30 mL - $104
50 mL - $175
15 mL - $35
30 mL - $65
50 mL - $99
15 mL - $25
30 mL - $39
15 mL - $30
30 mL - $55
15 mL - $34
15 mL - $39
30 mL - $72
15 mL - $36
30 mL - $65
50 mL - $99
60 mL - $118
100 mL - $165
15 mL - $39
30 mL - $69
50 mL - $109
60 mL - $134
15 mL - $45
30 mL - $91
50 mL - $129
15 mL - $49
30 mL - $95
50 mL - $145
15 mL - $51
30 mL - $108
15 mL - $39
30 mL - $75
50 mL - $119
15 mL - $46
30 mL - $92
50 mL - $145
15 mL - $53
30 mL - $106
50 mL - $179
15 mL - $39
30 mL - $76
50 mL - $125
15 mL - $36
30 mL - $69
15 mL - $46
15 mL - $38
30 mL - $76
50 mL - $119
15 mL - $43
15 mL - $36
30 mL - $66
50 mL - $99
15 mL - $49
15 mL - $55
10s of each for $65
15 mL - $49
30 mL - $93
15 mL - $37
30 mL - $69
- 3 x 10 mL for $85
15 mL - $45
30 mL - $85
15 mL - $49
30 mL - $95
15 mL - $55
30 mL - $108
\Add $3 if purchased by self. No charge if added on to order.*
CARDED SAMPLES
Decant Add-Ons
15 mL - $22
30 mL - $43
15 mL - $26
30 mL - $48
15 mL - $31
30 mL - $59
15 mL - $38
submitted by nussbomb to fragranceswap [link] [comments]
QUICK PSA: Hey guys, I'm not sure what's going on with my messages but they don't seem to be loading correctly. I'm constantly having to uninstall and reinstall the app. So if you have an outstanding order with me and it's been longer than normal and I have not shipped it, LET ME KNOW. Alot of my messages are getting deleted.
Haven't posted the list in 20 DAYS so here we go!
SEVERAL NEW ADDITIONS THIS WEEK
New Frags/Restocks This Week:
- Nishane
- Wulong Cha
- Fan Your Flames
- Tom Ford
- Oud Wood Returns
- Tobacco Vanille Returns
- Parfums De Marly
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2023.06.08 20:41 Mista9000 Perfectly Safe Demons -Ch 14- Bruised and cheerful
[Chapter One]
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Rosifo Girtwoud woke up feeling sore and exhausted. He slept well, but never as long as he’d have liked. He could hear his roommates moving around and getting ready for their days. Sitting up in bed, he stretched and took stock. His new job was physically demanding, but it was the best job he’d ever had. By a lot. He loved having his own room in a nice place, all thanks to his generous new salary! He could even afford to eat as much as he wanted, a luxury he’d not even dreamed was possible. Last night he ate three helpings of honey glazed pork at the pub! Still clumsy from sleep, Ros shrugged on a tunic and clean slacks, pausing for a second to appreciate the lordly quality of the garments. He still couldn’t believe he owned such nice things, and the Chief just gave it to him! Well, everyone got a few, but that didn’t make it any less special. Ros put on his belt as he went downstairs to the kitchen, where a few of his roommates were eating breakfast and the landlady was pulling some fresh buns out of the wood fired oven.
“Hey there’s the champ now!” called out Rikad, his housemate and co-worker.
“Heh, there are some perks to being the lightest guy on the squad!” Ros replied, referring to the agility drill he had won at work yesterday. Three days a week of training was by far the hardest part of the job, being trained by the Chief was like weathering a storm. Terrifying and dangerous, but something you could be proud of surviving. The other three days a week they worked were a holiday in comparison. Sitting on carts and standing by warehouses was easy.
Ros devoured his huge bowl of sweetened oats and then three buttered fresh buns. Pushing back from the long table with a satisfied sigh, he got up to leave for work with Rikad. The spring morning air was brisk, and they made sure to stay out of the way of loaded carts and riders that zipped by on the narrow cobblestone streets.
“What do you reckon the Chief will have us do today?” Rikad asked.
Ros snorted, “Quit embarrassing ourselves and pick up the pace?”
“Hah! That’s hardly a guess! I liked the knife throwing we did a few weeks ago, that was fun. I hope it’s not all runs and drills, I’m still aching from yesterday,” Rikad said.
“Yeah, I like combat drills. Other than when I have to spar with the Chief. He’s like a mountain that’s fast. I think the day I get a point on him, I’ll buy the whole team a beer!” Ros motioned a lunging jab as they walked.
“We’ll be too old to drink by then!” Rikad teased.
They were in for a typical training routine, a morning lecture on tactics and formations, some solo weapon drills, a short run, then a hearty lunch delivered from the nearby deli. Other days they just called a food cart into the yard with them, but Ros liked the deli lunches better. Also the novelty of someone else buying his lunches was thrilling. Ros assumed that this must be how pretty girls felt all the time. Maybe less sore and less yelled at. But maybe not.
The real highlight of the day was Ros got to see the owner of the whole company when he came out to observe their exercises. Ros hadn’t seen a real lord up close before he started at Pandemonium, and he thought it was one of the biggest perks. Mostly he looked like a tired doctor or shopkeeper, but Ros wasn’t disappointed. He had a nobility of his bearing, clarity in his eyes and an aura of authority. Even the Chief changed when he was around him! Seeing the him defer to anyone spoke volumes to their importance. Not only was he the lord of a whole company, he was also a mage! They were super rare even before the Church started purging all those heresies in their College of Magic, but now he wasn’t even sure there were any in the city!
“Agility drills are done! Imma talk to Mage Thippily, so you lot do some king of the hill sparring; Sword ‘n board! Ros and Kedril start!” boomed Chief of Security Stanisk.
Ros staggered exhaustedly to the equipment racks to get an arming jacket, leather helm, training sword and shield.
“Mage Thippliy is watching,” he whispered reverentially to himself as he geared up.
“Mind your tone or he’ll turn you into a turnip!” called Rikad.
Kedril grinned, “Hah, He’ll turn you into a turnip, Rik. He’ll just look at Ros and see his work is already done!”
Ros used to despise Kedril. He embodied everything Ros had yearned to become: handsome, confident, affluent, and sharp-witted. The team's dynamic was confrontational, rife with competition; they raced, fought, and scored against one another all day, three days a week. It had taken Ros a while to grasp that they were, in fact, a team. Kedril, infuriatingly attractive, devoted time to helping Ros in a few drills last week and offered valuable advice. So, albeit begrudgingly, Ros began to admire him. Kedril was older by a few years, substantially larger, and appeared to be one of the few who already had some training in arms. The prospect of sparring with him didn’t excite Ros.
Fresh from drills and immediately thrown into sparring, sweat trickled into Ros's eyes. The sting impaired his vision. He repeated to himself, 'Elbows in, shield up, tip forward, hips back,’ partially to fix his stance, partially to focus. Kedril was typically in better shape than him, but now appeared even more worn out. His guard was lax and messy, creating a gaping opening. Ros seized the opportunity and struck with a swift, precise jab. In the fleeting instant the jab took, Kedril's shield snapped into position, and his tip dealt a solid blow to Ros's ribs just beneath his sword arm. It was a feint - a brilliantly executed display of weakness where he was most prepared, exactly the tactic Stanisk had explained yesterday.
“Mashed Turnip!” Kedril shouted to the cheers of the others.
“Ros! You lost because your stance is awful! Keep lower! Coiled spring, lad!” the Chief shouted from across the yard.
Ros raised his hands over his head to cede the point and sat at the end of the bench. He hated losing, but he had expected to lose. He gratefully grabbed a cup of water and watched Kedril make short work of a few more challengers. It seemed like they were picking on him, but Ros was coming to understand they were also bonding with him, and these might be the closest friends he’d ever had. Not that it was a high bar, and he didn’t like all of them, but they had his back, and that meant a lot. Finally Jourgun, the biggest lad on the team, tore into Kedril with so much energy and fury that no amount of clever tactics could stop him. Even though he knew these were his friends, seeing Kedril getting bashed in the face with a shield was almost as good as seeing a real mage!
One thing Ros appreciated about training days was that they were shorter. After the sparring, Stanisk pulled aside Kedril and Jourgun for additional work, and dismissed the rest of the men. Ros trailed behind some of his newfound friends to a peculiar place where one would sit, fully naked, in a steam-filled room, all for two glucks.
“This is a sex thing, right?” Ros asked Rikad cautiously.
“What?! Light, no! It’s to relax and heal," Rikad explained. "They place herbs on hot rocks, we sit there, sweat, and breathe in the steam. It’s excellent, you’ll love it!”
“Sounds like we’re all naked and sweaty, though?” Ros remained convinced this was some intimate activity he wasn’t fully grasping. Rikad rolled his eyes and even paid Ros’s entry fee.
Inside the dim, tiled room was surprisingly comfortable. The steam smelled slightly of herbs and medicine, and it was so thick he couldn’t even see the far wall. A quick survey of the others revealed they were just as covered in bruises as he was, which gave Ros a fresh sense of camaraderie. They towelled off, dressed, drank some cold water, and left the strange business without any hint of the carnal encounter Ros had suspected. Despite his lingering confusion about the whole place, Ros liked it and wanted to come back. He appreciated his squadmates not making a single steamed turnip joke. He was hoping that didn’t stick as a nickname, he felt it didn’t remotely suit him.
After the steam, their muscles relaxed and the day's tension eased away. Ros and Rikad were starving. It had been hours since lunch, so they headed to a nearby tavern for drinks and dinner. Being able to simply enjoy food and drink without concern for the price was an intoxicatingly fresh experience. In fact, Ros enjoyed this newfound freedom even more than the meal itself.
After a huge dinner and a few beers Ros paused, and opened up a little.
"Did you know this is the pub where I talked the Chief into hiring me?"
"Really? To be honest, I've always wondered about that. No offence, but you're a lot smaller than the rest of us." Rikad pushed away his empty plate, taking a long drink of his beer.
"Yeah, I saw the Chief in here, dressed like a shining champion, buying ladies drinks and rounds for the whole bar. He was so confident and kind and relaxed. But also obviously dangerous. I’d never seen anyone like him!" Ros gestured to the tavern maid for a refill. "I must have been a sight. My clothes were more patch than original cloth, I was so skinny you could've counted my ribs through a sweater. Not that I had sweater money!" Ros reflected on the lean muscle he'd gained in recent months with inward satisfaction.
"Did the Chief take you for a beggar?"
Ros bristled at the suggestion. "Hell no! I've never begged in my life, I've always earned my keep!" his brief flare of indignation faded immediately. "No, he thought I was a refugee, from some starving backwater. Of course, I corrected him—after he bought me dinner!"
"Hah! The proper sequence," Rikad agreed, laughing.
"Anyway, he asked about my plans. I told him I was waiting till I was eighteen to join the army and serve the Emperor."
"You've certainly filled out since I met you, but I'm not sure you'd pass the army physical even now," Rikad cautiously speculated.
"The Chief was blunter about it. 'Yer so scrawny, a necromancer would find ya offputting, the army ain't gonna waste rations on ya.'" Ros imitated Stanisk’s gruff rural northerner accent.
"Hah! That sounds about right. Which makes your wearing company purple less clear than ever!" Rikad replied.
"Well, he asked if I knew my way around the city. I said I've tread every cobblestone here, so he offered me a job running letters and picking up parcels. Better work than sweeping alleys for a half-gluck and stale bread. I figured a fancy man like him would pay alright."
The waitress finally brought the next round, and Ros paused to take a long drink. Setting his mug down, he continued. "I walked into the Chief's office, and there he was behind that tiny desk with his book and quill. He looked like a cave troll trying to be a librarian. But I wasn't gonna laugh—it was still the Chief. He said, 'We don’t got a lot for now but I’ll give you a list in the morning, and see that it gets done.' I said ain’t fancy, I don’t know how to read! He didn't lose his cool. He simply nodded and said, 'Alright, just report to me in the morning, and we’ll get you started.' Oh, and he warned me never to speak to the Mage unless spoken to, which suited me fine."
Ros took another drink of his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and continued. "I was hoping for five gee a day. I’d probably have done it for a lone gluck, to be honest. So imagine my shock when he apologised that he could only offer me twenty glucks a day!"
"Where were you living, that five would've been enough?" Rikad asked, curious.
Ros, slightly flushed from the beer, leaned forward. "Under a bloody hedge!" He burst into laughter at his own expense.
"That's rough man," Rikad commented, shaking his head.
Ros nodded. "It was, but it's behind me now. After a month or so of running errands, the Chief finally let me join the crew he was training. That's how I ended up a part of the elite guard of a learned lord mage."
Rikad, his face ruddy, pointed his finger at Ros’s chest. "It’s your attitude! You always train the hardest. It’s changed the whole team's tone."
Ros nodded again, serious. "I gotta! The fifteen hundred gee I make every month now is probably more than I did in the last decade. Total! I bet we make as much as a knight commander does leading a thousand soldiers!"
Rikad looked at him suspiciously. "Wait, a decade? Aren't you still a teenager?"
Ros shrugged. "It's been a long, hard time. Anyway, I know I promised to go to see that folk band with you tonight, but I'm spent. I think I might call it an early night." He finished the beer in two long gulps and stood up.
"I get it. Besides, tomorrow's Sunday. We can finally sleep in!" Rikad pointed out.
******
Ros woke to a frantic pounding on his bedroom door. It was still dark out.
“Go away! Keep it down! You’ll wake the whole house!” Ros grumbled, mostly asleep.
“Come on man! Emergency meeting at the training yard. We gotta go now!” Rikad hoarsely whispered.
“Ah, that’s not good!” Ros threw on some clothes and headed out the door with his friend.
“Think it has something to do with what Kedril and Jourgun were doing after work?” Ros asked.
“Maybe? That was hours and hours ago, and those guys are great, and they were with the Chief,” Rikad countered.
They jogged through the mostly empty streets. The moons were behind clouds, and the dew made the cobblestones slick. The faint flickering of their leviathan oil lamp cast strange shadows in the foggy night. The city felt on edge, too many people on the streets in the middle of the night, whispering. A few times Ros thought he heard something about thunder and demons, which did nothing to calm his growing panic.
“What if something happened to Mage Thippily? Are we all unemployed now?” Ros asked, knowing Rikad knew as much as he did.
“What is the business we guard? Something to do with magically formed super secret goods that no one was allowed to talk about. I think? I should have asked,” Rikad lamented.
Finally they made it to the yard, and Kedril was standing at the gate, torch held aloft.
“Good lads! Go into the workshop and take a seat. The Chief has some tea on.” Kedril’s voice was as calm and steady as ever, but his face was pale and drawn, and his eyes never focused on them, just scanned the night intently.
“Inside? Are you sure?” Ros had never gone inside; that was the single biggest rule.
Kedril just nodded. Ros and Rikad looked at each other for courage and moved forward. The big yard door to the workshop opened a crack, and warm light was spilling out. Rikad motioned Ros to go first, and he poked his head in, fully expecting to lose it.
“Oy, is that Ros? Git your scrawny ass in here,” Chief Stanisk rumbled.
The two men felt like flies exploring a web, but inside was surprisingly normal. Five other guards were already there, and the room was a lot like any other workshop. It had planked floors, shelves and tables and one corner was even converted into a kitchen. There were a few simple stools set up, and two incredibly luxurious loungers. Like everyone else, Ros and Rikad took a stool. The Chief gestured to a kettle and mugs for the tea, but no one seemed interested.
“What’s happening, is everyone okay?” Ros finally asked.
“Short answer is yes, for now.” Stanisk said calmly. “We’ll give the other lads a few minutes to get here, then I’ll explain.”
“Holy light, sir! You aren’t wearing your armour!” This unsettled Ros more than anything he’d seen all night, it was like seeing a bear shaved. Chief was just sitting there in trousers and a shirt, sipping tea. He’d never seen the Chief without armour.
“Needs cleaned,” he answered cryptically.
Follow up questions were interrupted by the rest of the men arriving, followed by Kedril and then Jourgun, who must have been watching the far gate.
“Alright, gather round, at ease.” Stanisk started. He looked relaxed which was probably a good sign.
“You lot were hired to protect the interests of our operations. There was an attempt on Mage Thippliy’s life tonight, at his meeting. Security Specialists Kedril and Jourgun did excellent work, and I have full confidence in all of your growing abilities. Our concern is there will be additional attempts."
There was a murmur of apprehension. The mage was the company. Without him there was nothing to guard. No one here wanted to lose their jobs, but they had been suspicious from the start. The pay didn’t match the work.
Stanisk paused as Mage Thipply and the elv, that had only been speculated to exist, came down the ladder from the loft. The mage was dressed like normal, in his brown pants and a white shirt, frameless glasses and a short well maintained beard streaked with grey. The elv was wearing an oversized sweater and long stockings. It had the effect of making her upper body look human, but with the long spindly legs of a shore bird. Her huge nocturnal eyes stared at them all unblinkingly, and her long narrow fingers with too many segments wrapped around a mug of tea. Ros was both intimidated and repulsed. It was like a bird or an insect pretending to be a person, but with eyes that had intelligence and cruelty.
“Ah! Um, thank you all for coming!” The mage was directly addressing them, Ros grinned despite his fears and worries. “There have been events over the last week or so that have culminated tonight, and I no longer think that our operation in Jagged Cove is viable.” The mage saw the reaction of the crowd turn sharply negative. He hastily added, “Of course I’m not closing up shop, we’re just moving to another location. A location outside of the capital region, and I’d like you all to join us.”
Ros sighed and leaned back in relief. This wasn’t bad news at all. He’d gladly move to the bottom of the sea for the Mage. He could feel his pulse returning to normal, as other people started asking questions.
“What? I can’t leave the city, I got a wife and kids!” a guard named Theros said.
“Oh, I just started dating a baker's apprentice, is there an option to stay?” Jourgun asked.
The elv stood up, and addressed the room with an icy indifference. “This is not a negotiation. There is a ship that is leaving in about six hours. If you are on it, you will remain employed. We have also made considerations for your families. They are welcome on the ship, and you can find new homes in the town we relocate to.” She subtly nodded to the Chief before continuing. “Chief Stanisk values your skills so highly that he convinced the board of directors to offer each of you a five year contract. The contract will have some additional employment conditions, but there will be a 5000 glindi signing bonus. Follow Chief Stanisk’s instructions to get on the boat, and we’ll see you there. Or not.”
She returned to the ornate chair, and the room erupted into chaos.
“Holy light! That’s so much!”
“I’d be insane not to sign!”
“Where are we even going?”
Ros grinned from ear to ear, what’s to decide? This was the best possible outcome! Free money to see the world! Packing his bags would take no time, and he could carry everything that mattered in one trip.
Stanisk took command of the room, “You with young ‘uns, we got the company wagons for you waiting, get a move on. I’ll take the mage’s personal wagon and do a loop to Kedril’s, Eowin’s and Klive’s. The rest of you, leg it! Meet back here in three hours and tell anyone what asks, that you took a job out of the city. Be vague! Come on, pick up the pace you helpless kittens!"
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Rosifo Girtwoud woke up feeling sore and exhausted. He slept well, but never as long as he’d have liked. He could hear his roommates moving around and getting ready for their days. Sitting up in bed, he stretched and took stock. His new job was physically demanding, but it was the best job he’d ever had. By a lot. He loved having his own room in a nice place, all thanks to his generous new salary! He could even afford to eat as much as he wanted, a luxury he’d not even dreamed was possible. Last night he ate three helpings of honey glazed pork at the pub! Still clumsy from sleep, Ros shrugged on a tunic and clean slacks, pausing for a second to appreciate the lordly quality of the garments. He still couldn’t believe he owned such nice things, and the Chief just gave it to him! Well, everyone got a few, but that didn’t make it any less special. Ros put on his belt as he went downstairs to the kitchen, where a few of his roommates were eating breakfast and the landlady was pulling some fresh buns out of the wood fired oven.
“Hey there’s the champ now!” called out Rikad, his housemate and co-worker.
“Heh, there are some perks to being the lightest guy on the squad!” Ros replied, referring to the agility drill he had won at work yesterday. Three days a week of training was by far the hardest part of the job, being trained by the Chief was like weathering a storm. Terrifying and dangerous, but something you could be proud of surviving. The other three days a week they worked were a holiday in comparison. Sitting on carts and standing by warehouses was easy.
Ros devoured his huge bowl of sweetened oats and then three buttered fresh buns. Pushing back from the long table with a satisfied sigh, he got up to leave for work with Rikad. The spring morning air was brisk, and they made sure to stay out of the way of loaded carts and riders that zipped by on the narrow cobblestone streets.
“What do you reckon the Chief will have us do today?” Rikad asked.
Ros snorted, “Quit embarrassing ourselves and pick up the pace?”
“Hah! That’s hardly a guess! I liked the knife throwing we did a few weeks ago, that was fun. I hope it’s not all runs and drills, I’m still aching from yesterday,” Rikad said.
“Yeah, I like combat drills. Other than when I have to spar with the Chief. He’s like a mountain that’s fast. I think the day I get a point on him, I’ll buy the whole team a beer!” Ros motioned a lunging jab as they walked.
“We’ll be too old to drink by then!” Rikad teased.
They were in for a typical training routine, a morning lecture on tactics and formations, some solo weapon drills, a short run, then a hearty lunch delivered from the nearby deli. Other days they just called a food cart into the yard with them, but Ros liked the deli lunches better. Also the novelty of someone else buying his lunches was thrilling. Ros assumed that this must be how pretty girls felt all the time. Maybe less sore and less yelled at. But maybe not.
The real highlight of the day was Ros got to see the owner of the whole company when he came out to observe their exercises. Ros hadn’t seen a real lord up close before he started at Pandemonium, and he thought it was one of the biggest perks. Mostly he looked like a tired doctor or shopkeeper, but Ros wasn’t disappointed. He had a nobility of his bearing, clarity in his eyes and an aura of authority. Even the Chief changed when he was around him! Seeing the him defer to anyone spoke volumes to their importance. Not only was he the lord of a whole company, he was also a mage! They were super rare even before the Church started purging all those heresies in their College of Magic, but now he wasn’t even sure there were any in the city!
“Agility drills are done! Imma talk to Mage Thippily, so you lot do some king of the hill sparring; Sword ‘n board! Ros and Kedril start!” boomed Chief of Security Stanisk.
Ros staggered exhaustedly to the equipment racks to get an arming jacket, leather helm, training sword and shield.
“Mage Thippliy is watching,” he whispered reverentially to himself as he geared up.
“Mind your tone or he’ll turn you into a turnip!” called Rikad.
Kedril grinned, “Hah, He’ll turn you into a turnip, Rik. He’ll just look at Ros and see his work is already done!”
Ros used to despise Kedril. He embodied everything Ros had yearned to become: handsome, confident, affluent, and sharp-witted. The team's dynamic was confrontational, rife with competition; they raced, fought, and scored against one another all day, three days a week. It had taken Ros a while to grasp that they were, in fact, a team. Kedril, infuriatingly attractive, devoted time to helping Ros in a few drills last week and offered valuable advice. So, albeit begrudgingly, Ros began to admire him. Kedril was older by a few years, substantially larger, and appeared to be one of the few who already had some training in arms. The prospect of sparring with him didn’t excite Ros.
Fresh from drills and immediately thrown into sparring, sweat trickled into Ros's eyes. The sting impaired his vision. He repeated to himself, 'Elbows in, shield up, tip forward, hips back,’ partially to fix his stance, partially to focus. Kedril was typically in better shape than him, but now appeared even more worn out. His guard was lax and messy, creating a gaping opening. Ros seized the opportunity and struck with a swift, precise jab. In the fleeting instant the jab took, Kedril's shield snapped into position, and his tip dealt a solid blow to Ros's ribs just beneath his sword arm. It was a feint - a brilliantly executed display of weakness where he was most prepared, exactly the tactic Stanisk had explained yesterday.
“Mashed Turnip!” Kedril shouted to the cheers of the others.
“Ros! You lost because your stance is awful! Keep lower! Coiled spring, lad!” the Chief shouted from across the yard.
Ros raised his hands over his head to cede the point and sat at the end of the bench. He hated losing, but he had expected to lose. He gratefully grabbed a cup of water and watched Kedril make short work of a few more challengers. It seemed like they were picking on him, but Ros was coming to understand they were also bonding with him, and these might be the closest friends he’d ever had. Not that it was a high bar, and he didn’t like all of them, but they had his back, and that meant a lot. Finally Jourgun, the biggest lad on the team, tore into Kedril with so much energy and fury that no amount of clever tactics could stop him. Even though he knew these were his friends, seeing Kedril getting bashed in the face with a shield was almost as good as seeing a real mage!
One thing Ros appreciated about training days was that they were shorter. After the sparring, Stanisk pulled aside Kedril and Jourgun for additional work, and dismissed the rest of the men. Ros trailed behind some of his newfound friends to a peculiar place where one would sit, fully naked, in a steam-filled room, all for two glucks.
“This is a sex thing, right?” Ros asked Rikad cautiously.
“What?! Light, no! It’s to relax and heal," Rikad explained. "They place herbs on hot rocks, we sit there, sweat, and breathe in the steam. It’s excellent, you’ll love it!”
“Sounds like we’re all naked and sweaty, though?” Ros remained convinced this was some intimate activity he wasn’t fully grasping. Rikad rolled his eyes and even paid Ros’s entry fee.
Inside the dim, tiled room was surprisingly comfortable. The steam smelled slightly of herbs and medicine, and it was so thick he couldn’t even see the far wall. A quick survey of the others revealed they were just as covered in bruises as he was, which gave Ros a fresh sense of camaraderie. They towelled off, dressed, drank some cold water, and left the strange business without any hint of the carnal encounter Ros had suspected. Despite his lingering confusion about the whole place, Ros liked it and wanted to come back. He appreciated his squadmates not making a single steamed turnip joke. He was hoping that didn’t stick as a nickname, he felt it didn’t remotely suit him.
After the steam, their muscles relaxed and the day's tension eased away. Ros and Rikad were starving. It had been hours since lunch, so they headed to a nearby tavern for drinks and dinner. Being able to simply enjoy food and drink without concern for the price was an intoxicatingly fresh experience. In fact, Ros enjoyed this newfound freedom even more than the meal itself.
After a huge dinner and a few beers Ros paused, and opened up a little.
"Did you know this is the pub where I talked the Chief into hiring me?"
"Really? To be honest, I've always wondered about that. No offence, but you're a lot smaller than the rest of us." Rikad pushed away his empty plate, taking a long drink of his beer.
"Yeah, I saw the Chief in here, dressed like a shining champion, buying ladies drinks and rounds for the whole bar. He was so confident and kind and relaxed. But also obviously dangerous. I’d never seen anyone like him!" Ros gestured to the tavern maid for a refill. "I must have been a sight. My clothes were more patch than original cloth, I was so skinny you could've counted my ribs through a sweater. Not that I had sweater money!" Ros reflected on the lean muscle he'd gained in recent months with inward satisfaction.
"Did the Chief take you for a beggar?"
Ros bristled at the suggestion. "Hell no! I've never begged in my life, I've always earned my keep!" his brief flare of indignation faded immediately. "No, he thought I was a refugee, from some starving backwater. Of course, I corrected him—after he bought me dinner!"
"Hah! The proper sequence," Rikad agreed, laughing.
"Anyway, he asked about my plans. I told him I was waiting till I was eighteen to join the army and serve the Emperor."
"You've certainly filled out since I met you, but I'm not sure you'd pass the army physical even now," Rikad cautiously speculated.
"The Chief was blunter about it. 'Yer so scrawny, a necromancer would find ya offputting, the army ain't gonna waste rations on ya.'" Ros imitated Stanisk’s gruff rural northerner accent.
"Hah! That sounds about right. Which makes your wearing company purple less clear than ever!" Rikad replied.
"Well, he asked if I knew my way around the city. I said I've tread every cobblestone here, so he offered me a job running letters and picking up parcels. Better work than sweeping alleys for a half-gluck and stale bread. I figured a fancy man like him would pay alright."
The waitress finally brought the next round, and Ros paused to take a long drink. Setting his mug down, he continued. "I walked into the Chief's office, and there he was behind that tiny desk with his book and quill. He looked like a cave troll trying to be a librarian. But I wasn't gonna laugh—it was still the Chief. He said, 'We don’t got a lot for now but I’ll give you a list in the morning, and see that it gets done.' I said ain’t fancy, I don’t know how to read! He didn't lose his cool. He simply nodded and said, 'Alright, just report to me in the morning, and we’ll get you started.' Oh, and he warned me never to speak to the Mage unless spoken to, which suited me fine."
Ros took another drink of his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and continued. "I was hoping for five gee a day. I’d probably have done it for a lone gluck, to be honest. So imagine my shock when he apologised that he could only offer me twenty glucks a day!"
"Where were you living, that five would've been enough?" Rikad asked, curious.
Ros, slightly flushed from the beer, leaned forward. "Under a bloody hedge!" He burst into laughter at his own expense.
"That's rough man," Rikad commented, shaking his head.
Ros nodded. "It was, but it's behind me now. After a month or so of running errands, the Chief finally let me join the crew he was training. That's how I ended up a part of the elite guard of a learned lord mage."
Rikad, his face ruddy, pointed his finger at Ros’s chest. "It’s your attitude! You always train the hardest. It’s changed the whole team's tone."
Ros nodded again, serious. "I gotta! The fifteen hundred gee I make every month now is probably more than I did in the last decade. Total! I bet we make as much as a knight commander does leading a thousand soldiers!"
Rikad looked at him suspiciously. "Wait, a decade? Aren't you still a teenager?"
Ros shrugged. "It's been a long, hard time. Anyway, I know I promised to go to see that folk band with you tonight, but I'm spent. I think I might call it an early night." He finished the beer in two long gulps and stood up.
"I get it. Besides, tomorrow's Sunday. We can finally sleep in!" Rikad pointed out.
******
Ros woke to a frantic pounding on his bedroom door. It was still dark out.
“Go away! Keep it down! You’ll wake the whole house!” Ros grumbled, mostly asleep.
“Come on man! Emergency meeting at the training yard. We gotta go now!” Rikad hoarsely whispered.
“Ah, that’s not good!” Ros threw on some clothes and headed out the door with his friend.
“Think it has something to do with what Kedril and Jourgun were doing after work?” Ros asked.
“Maybe? That was hours and hours ago, and those guys are great, and they were with the Chief,” Rikad countered.
They jogged through the mostly empty streets. The moons were behind clouds, and the dew made the cobblestones slick. The faint flickering of their leviathan oil lamp cast strange shadows in the foggy night. The city felt on edge, too many people on the streets in the middle of the night, whispering. A few times Ros thought he heard something about thunder and demons, which did nothing to calm his growing panic.
“What if something happened to Mage Thippily? Are we all unemployed now?” Ros asked, knowing Rikad knew as much as he did.
“What is the business we guard? Something to do with magically formed super secret goods that no one was allowed to talk about. I think? I should have asked,” Rikad lamented.
Finally they made it to the yard, and Kedril was standing at the gate, torch held aloft.
“Good lads! Go into the workshop and take a seat. The Chief has some tea on.” Kedril’s voice was as calm and steady as ever, but his face was pale and drawn, and his eyes never focused on them, just scanned the night intently.
“Inside? Are you sure?” Ros had never gone inside; that was the single biggest rule.
Kedril just nodded. Ros and Rikad looked at each other for courage and moved forward. The big yard door to the workshop opened a crack, and warm light was spilling out. Rikad motioned Ros to go first, and he poked his head in, fully expecting to lose it.
“Oy, is that Ros? Git your scrawny ass in here,” Chief Stanisk rumbled.
The two men felt like flies exploring a web, but inside was surprisingly normal. Five other guards were already there, and the room was a lot like any other workshop. It had planked floors, shelves and tables and one corner was even converted into a kitchen. There were a few simple stools set up, and two incredibly luxurious loungers. Like everyone else, Ros and Rikad took a stool. The Chief gestured to a kettle and mugs for the tea, but no one seemed interested.
“What’s happening, is everyone okay?” Ros finally asked.
“Short answer is yes, for now.” Stanisk said calmly. “We’ll give the other lads a few minutes to get here, then I’ll explain.”
“Holy light, sir! You aren’t wearing your armour!” This unsettled Ros more than anything he’d seen all night, it was like seeing a bear shaved. Chief was just sitting there in trousers and a shirt, sipping tea. He’d never seen the Chief without armour.
“Needs cleaned,” he answered cryptically.
Follow up questions were interrupted by the rest of the men arriving, followed by Kedril and then Jourgun, who must have been watching the far gate.
“Alright, gather round, at ease.” Stanisk started. He looked relaxed which was probably a good sign.
“You lot were hired to protect the interests of our operations. There was an attempt on Mage Thippliy’s life tonight, at his meeting. Security Specialists Kedril and Jourgun did excellent work, and I have full confidence in all of your growing abilities. Our concern is there will be additional attempts."
There was a murmur of apprehension. The mage was the company. Without him there was nothing to guard. No one here wanted to lose their jobs, but they had been suspicious from the start. The pay didn’t match the work.
Stanisk paused as Mage Thipply and the elv, that had only been speculated to exist, came down the ladder from the loft. The mage was dressed like normal, in his brown pants and a white shirt, frameless glasses and a short well maintained beard streaked with grey. The elv was wearing an oversized sweater and long stockings. It had the effect of making her upper body look human, but with the long spindly legs of a shore bird. Her huge nocturnal eyes stared at them all unblinkingly, and her long narrow fingers with too many segments wrapped around a mug of tea. Ros was both intimidated and repulsed. It was like a bird or an insect pretending to be a person, but with eyes that had intelligence and cruelty.
“Ah! Um, thank you all for coming!” The mage was directly addressing them, Ros grinned despite his fears and worries. “There have been events over the last week or so that have culminated tonight, and I no longer think that our operation in Jagged Cove is viable.” The mage saw the reaction of the crowd turn sharply negative. He hastily added, “Of course I’m not closing up shop, we’re just moving to another location. A location outside of the capital region, and I’d like you all to join us.”
Ros sighed and leaned back in relief. This wasn’t bad news at all. He’d gladly move to the bottom of the sea for the Mage. He could feel his pulse returning to normal, as other people started asking questions.
“What? I can’t leave the city, I got a wife and kids!” a guard named Theros said.
“Oh, I just started dating a baker's apprentice, is there an option to stay?” Jourgun asked.
The elv stood up, and addressed the room with an icy indifference. “This is not a negotiation. There is a ship that is leaving in about six hours. If you are on it, you will remain employed. We have also made considerations for your families. They are welcome on the ship, and you can find new homes in the town we relocate to.” She subtly nodded to the Chief before continuing. “Chief Stanisk values your skills so highly that he convinced the board of directors to offer each of you a five year contract. The contract will have some additional employment conditions, but there will be a 5000 glindi signing bonus. Follow Chief Stanisk’s instructions to get on the boat, and we’ll see you there. Or not.”
She returned to the ornate chair, and the room erupted into chaos.
“Holy light! That’s so much!”
“I’d be insane not to sign!”
“Where are we even going?”
Ros grinned from ear to ear, what’s to decide? This was the best possible outcome! Free money to see the world! Packing his bags would take no time, and he could carry everything that mattered in one trip.
Stanisk took command of the room, “You with young ‘uns, we got the company wagons for you waiting, get a move on. I’ll take the mage’s personal wagon and do a loop to Kedril’s, Eowin’s and Klive’s. The rest of you, leg it! Meet back here in three hours and tell anyone what asks, that you took a job out of the city. Be vague! Come on, pick up the pace you helpless kittens!"
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