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Genre - Drama runtime - 107 min Luna Lauren Velez 50 votes Director - Michael D. Olmos The picture has an artistic feel to it for me. It's got half of black lines and the other white lines. It's perfectly symmetrical with the man in the middle. Feels like an art piece to me. Windows on the world watch full length 2017. 102 Minutes This article was reported and written by Jim Dwyer, Eric Lipton, Kevin Flynn, James Glanz and Ford Fessenden. They began as calls for help, information, guidance. They quickly turned into soundings of desperation, and anger, and love. Now they are the remembered voices of the men and women who were trapped on the high floors of the twin towers. From their last words, a haunting chronicle of the final 102 minutes at the World Trade Center has emerged, built on scores of phone conversations and e-mail and voice messages. These accounts, along with the testimony of the handful of people who escaped, provide the first sweeping views from the floors directly hit by the airplanes and above. Collected by reporters for The New York Times, these last words give human form to an all but invisible strand of this stark, public catastrophe: the advancing destruction across the top 19 floors of the north tower and the top 33 of the south, where loss of life was most severe on Sept. 11. Of the 2, 823 believed dead in the attack on New York, at least 1, 946, or 69 percent, were killed on those upper floors, an analysis by The Times has found. Rescue workers did not get near them. Photographers could not record their faces. If they were seen at all, it was in glimpses at windows, nearly a quarter-mile up. Yet like messages in an electronic bottle from people marooned in some distant sky, their last words narrate a world that was coming undone. A man sends an e-mail message asking, Any news from the outside. before perching on a ledge at Windows on the World. A woman reports a colleague is smacking useless sprinkler heads with his shoe. A husband calmly reminds his wife about their insurance policies, then says that the floor is groaning beneath him, and tells her that she and their children meant the world to him. No single call can describe scenes that were unfolding at terrible velocities in many places. Taken together though, the words from the upper floors offer not only a broad and chilling view of the devastated zones, but the only window onto acts of bravery, decency and grace at a brutal time. Eight months after the attacks, many survivors and friends and relatives of those lost are pooling their recollections, tapes and phone records, and 157 have shared accounts of their contacts for this article. At least 353 of those lost were able to reach people outside the towers. Spoken or written at the hour of death, these are intimate, lasting words. The steep emotional cost of making them public is worth paying, their families say, for a clearer picture of those final minutes. Many also hope the history of the day is enlarged beyond memorials to the unquestioned valor of 343 firefighters and 78 other uniformed rescuers. It is time, they say, to account for the experiences of the 2, 400 civilians who also died that day. Iliana McGinnis, whose husband, Tom, called her from the 92nd floor of the north tower, said, If they can uncover even one more piece of information about what happened during those last minutes, I want it. Some details remain unknowable. Working phones were scarce. The physical evidence was destroyed. Conversations were held under grave stress, and are recalled through grief, time and longing. Even so, as one fragile bit of information elaborates on the next, they illuminate conditions on the top floors. The evidence strongly suggests that 1, 100 or more people in or above the impact zones survived the initial crashes, roughly 300 in the south tower and 800 in the north. Many of those lived until their building collapsed. Even after the second airplane struck, an open staircase connected the upper reaches of the south tower to the street. The Times has identified 18 men and women who used it to escape from the impact zone or above. At the same time they were evacuating, at least 200 other people were climbing toward the roof in that tower, unaware that a passable stairway down was available, and assuming — incorrectly — that they could open the roof door. "The belief that they had a rooftop option cost them their lives. said Beverly Eckert, whose husband, Sean Rooney, called after his futile trek up. Hundreds were trapped on floors untouched by the airplanes. Even though the buildings survived the initial impacts, the twisting and bending of the towers caused fatal havoc. Stairwells were plugged by broken wallboard. Doors were jammed in twisted frames. With more time and simple tools like crowbars, rescue workers might have freed people who simply could not get to stairways. In the north tower, at least 28 people were freed on the 86th and 89th floors by a small group of Port Authority office workers who pried open jammed doors. Those self-assigned rescuers died. In both towers, scores of people lost chances to escape. Some paused to make one more phone call; others, to pick up a forgotten purse; still others, to perform tasks like freeing people from elevators, tending the injured or comforting the distraught. The crises had identical beginnings and endings in each tower, but ran different courses. At least 37 people, and probably well over 50, can be seen jumping or falling from the north tower, while no one is visible falling from the south tower, in a collection of 20 videotapes shot by amateurs and professionals from nearby streets and buildings. Both towers had similar volumes of smoke and heat, but in the north tower, about three times as many people were trapped in roughly half the space. Scores were driven to the windows of the north tower in search of relief. In the south tower, people had more opportunities to move between floors. The impact zones formed pitiless boundaries between those who were spared and those who were doomed. Even at the margins, the collisions were devastating: the wingtip of the second plane grazed the 78th floor sky lobby in the south tower, instantly killing dozens of people waiting for elevators. In all, about 600 civilians died in the south tower at or above the plane's impact. In the north tower, every person believed to be above the 91st floor died: 1, 344. The farther from the impact, the more calls people made. In the north tower, pockets of near-silence extended four floors above and one floor below the impact zone. Yet remarkably, in both towers, even on floors squarely hit by the jets, a few people lived long enough to make calls. To place these fragmentary messages in context, The Times interviewed family members, friends and colleagues of those who died, obtained times of calls from cellphone bills and 911 records, analyzed 20 videotapes and listened to 15 hours of police and fire radio tapes. The Times also interviewed 25 people who saw firsthand the destruction wreaked by the planes, because they escaped from the impact zone or above it in the south tower, or from just below it in the north. 8:00 North Tower, 107th Floor, Windows on the World, 2 hours 28 minutes to collapse "Good morning, Ms. Thompson. Doris Eng's greeting was particularly sunny, like the day, as Liz Thompson arrived for breakfast atop the tallest building in the city, Ms. Thompson remembers thinking. Perhaps Ms. Eng had matched her mood to the glorious weather, the rich blue September sky that filled every window. Or perhaps it was the company. Familiar faces occupied many of the tables in Wild Blue, the intimate aerie to Windows that Ms. Eng helped manage, according to two people who ate there that morning. As much as any one place, that single room captured the sweep of humanity who worked and played at the trade center. Ms. Thompson, executive director of the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, was eating with Geoffrey Wharton, an executive with Silverstein Properties, which had just leased the towers. At the next table sat Michael Nestor, the deputy inspector general of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, and one of his investigators, Richard Tierney. At a third table were six stockbrokers, several of whom came every Tuesday. Eng had a treat for one of them, Emeric Harvey. The night before, one of the restaurant's managers, Jules Roinnel, gave Ms. Eng two impossibly-hard-to-get tickets to "The Producers. Mr. Roinnel says he asked Ms. Eng to give them to Mr. Harvey. Sitting by himself at a window table overlooking the Statue of Liberty was a relative newcomer, Neil D. Levin, the executive director of the Port Authority. He had never joined them for breakfast before. But his secretary requested a table days earlier and now he sat waiting for a banker friend, said Mr. Levin's wife, Christy Ferer. Every other minute or so, a waiter, Jan Maciejewski, swept through the room, refilling coffee cups and taking orders, Mr. Nestor recalls. Mr. Maciejewski was one of several restaurant workers on the 107th floor. Most of the 72 Windows employees were on the 106th floor, where Risk Waters Group was holding a conference on information technology. Already 87 people had arrived, including top executives from Merrill Lynch and UBS Warburg, according to the conference sponsors. Many were enjoying coffee and sliced smoked salmon in the restaurant's ballroom. Some exhibitors were already tending to their booths, set up in the Horizon Suite just across the hallway. A picture taken that morning showed two exhibitors, Peter Alderman and William Kelly, salesmen for Bloomberg L. P., chatting with a colleague beside a table filled with a multi-screened computer display. Stuart Lee and Garth Feeney, two vice presidents of Data Synapse, ran displays of their company's software. Down in the lobby, 107 floors below, an assistant to Mr. Levin waited for his breakfast guest. But when the guest arrived, he and Mr. Levin's aide luckily boarded the wrong elevator, Ms. Ferer would learn, and so they had to return to the lobby to wait for another one. Upstairs, Mr. Levin read his newspaper, Mr. Nestor recalled. He and Mr. Tierney were a little curious to see whom Mr. Levin, their boss, was meeting for breakfast. But Mr. Nestor had a meeting downstairs, so they headed for the elevators, stopping at Mr. Levin's table to say goodbye. Behind them came Ms. Thompson and Mr. Wharton. Nestor held the elevator, so they hopped in quickly, Ms. Thompson recalled. Then the doors closed and the last people ever to leave Windows on the World began their descent. It was 8:44 a. m. 8:46 North Tower, 91st Floor, American Bureau of Shipping, 1 hour 42 minutes to collapse The impact came at 8:46:26 a. American Airlines Flight 11, a Boeing 767 measuring 156 feet from wingtip to wingtip and carrying 10, 000 gallons of fuel, was moving at 470 miles an hour, federal investigators estimated. At that speed, it covered the final two blocks to the north tower in 1. 2 seconds. The plane ripped a path across floors 94 to 98, directly into the office of Marsh & McLennan Companies, shredding steel columns, wallboard, filing cabinets and computer-laden desks. Its fuel ignited and incinerated everything in its way. The plane's landing gear hurtled through the south side of the building, winding up on Rector Street, five blocks away. Just three floors below the impact zone, not a thing budged in Steve McIntyre's office. Not the slate paperweight shaped like a sailing ship. Not the family snapshots propped up on a bookcase. McIntyre found himself in front of a computer that was still on. Then came the whiplash. A powerful shock wave quickly radiated up and down from the impact zone. The wave bounced from the top to the bottom of the tower, three or four seconds one way and then back, rocking the building like a huge boat in a storm. "We got to get the hell out of here. yelled Greg Shark, an American Bureau of Shipping engineer and architect, who was bracing himself in the swaying while he stood outside Mr. McIntyre's office. Somehow, they were alive. Only later would the two men realize the slender margin of their escape. In their accounts of hunting for a way out, they provide a survey of a border territory, an impregnable zone through which the people imprisoned above would never pass. McIntyre, Mr. Shark and nine other employees, all uninjured, hustled out of the A. B. S. reception area in the northwest corner and turned left toward the elevators and stairways in the tower's core. McIntyre recalls peering into a dim, shattered stairwell, billowing with smoke. He heard nothing but water cascading down the stairs, as if he had encountered a babbling brook on a mountain hike. The water almost certainly came from severed sprinkler pipes. Seeing and hearing no one else in the stinking gloom, he looked up. The stairwell was blocked from above — not by fire or structural steel, but by huge pieces of the light gypsum drywall, often called Sheetrock, that had enclosed the stairwell to protect it. In huge hunks, the Sheetrock formed a great plug in the stairwell, sealing the passage from 92, the floor above. Going down the stairs, it made a slightly less formidable obstruction. "This is no good. Mr. McIntyre would remember saying. McIntyre could hardly have known it, but he stood at a critical boundary. Above him, across 19 floors, were 1, 344 people, many of them alive, stunned, unhurt, calling for help. Not one would survive. Below, across 90 floors, thousands of others were also alive, stunned, unhurt, calling for help. Nearly all of them lived. Bad as this staircase was, the two other emergency exits were worse, Mr. McIntyre later said. So he went back to that first staircase, northwest of the building's center. He stepped inside and immediately slipped down two flights of grimy gypsum. Unhurt, he stood and noticed lights below. He remembers calling: This way. His A. colleagues joined the exodus from 91. One floor above them, on the 92nd floor, employees of Carr Futures were doing exactly what the A. people had done: hunting for a way out. They did not realize they were on the wrong side of the rubble. On the 92nd floor, Damian Meehan scrambled to a phone at Carr Futures and dialed his brother Eugene, a firefighter in the Bronx. "It's really bad here — the elevators are gone. Mr. Meehan told him. "Get to the front door, see if there's smoke there. Eugene Meehan recalled urging him. He heard his brother put the phone down, then followed the sounds drifting into his ear. Yelling. Commotion, but not panic. A few minutes later, Damian Meehan returned and reported that the front entrance was filled with smoke. "Get to the stairs. Eugene remembered advising him. "See where the smoke is coming from. Go the other way. Then he heard Damian for the last time. "He said, We've got to go. Or he said, We're going. Eugene Meehan said. "I've been racking my brains to remember. "I know he said, We. 9:00 North Tower, 106th Floor, Windows on the World, 1 hour 28 minutes to collapse "What do we do? What do we do. Doris Eng, the restaurant manager, called the Fire Command Center in the lobby repeatedly with that question, according to officials and co-workers. Just minutes after the plane hit, the restaurant was filling with smoke and she was struggling to direct the 170 people in her charge. Many in the crowd made their living providing information or the equipment that carried it, communications experts taking part in the morning's conference in the ballroom. But with thickening smoke, no power and little sense of what was going on, the restaurant was fast becoming an isolation zone, where people scrambled for bits of news. "Watch CNN. Stephen Tompsett, a computer scientist at the conference, e-mailed his wife, Dorry, using his BlackBerry communicator. "Need updates. Videos from two amateur photographers show that the smoke built with terrifying speed at the top of the building, cascading thicker from seams in windows there than from floors closer to the plane. Early on, Rajesh Mirpuri called his company, Data Synapse, coughing, and said he could not see more than 10 feet, his boss, Peter Lee, would remember. Peter Alderman, the Bloomberg salesman, also told his sister about the smoke, using his BlackBerry to send an e-mail message: I'm scared. Ms. Eng and the Windows staff, following their emergency training, herded people from the 107th floor down to a corridor on the 106th near the stairs, where they used a special phone to call the Fire Command Center. The building's policy was to immediately evacuate the floor on fire and the one above it. People farther away, like those in Windows on the World, were to leave only when directed by the command center "or when conditions dictate such actions. Conditions were quickly deteriorating, though. Glenn Vogt, the restaurant's general manager, said that 20 minutes after the plane hit, his assistant, Christine Olender, called him at home. She got his wife instead, Mr. Vogt said, because he was on the street outside the trade center. Olender told Mrs. Vogt that they had heard nothing on how to leave. "The ceilings are falling. she said. "The floors are buckling. Within 20 minutes of the crash, a police helicopter reported to its base that it could not land on the roof. Still, many put their hopes on a rescue by someone, some way. "I can't go anywhere because they told us not to move. Ivhan Carpio, a Windows worker, said in a message he left on his cousin's answering machine. "I have to wait for the firefighters. The firefighters, however, were struggling to respond. No one in New York had ever seen a fire of this size — four and five floors blazing within seconds. Commanders in the lobby had no way of knowing if any stairwells were passable. With most elevators ruined, firefighters were toting heavy gear up stairwells against a tide of evacuees. An hour after the plane crash, they would still be 50 floors below Windows. Downstairs, the authorities fielded calls from the upper floors. "There's not much you could do other than tell them to go wet a towel and keep it over your face. said Alan Reiss, the former director of the world trade department of the Port Authority. But the plane had severed the water line to the upper floors. Maciejewski, the waiter, told his wife in a cellphone call that he could not find enough to wet a rag, she recalled. He said he would check the flower vases. The room had almost no water and not much air, but there was no shortage of cellphones or BlackBerries. Using them and a few intact phone lines, at least 41 people in the restaurant reached someone outside the building. Peter Mardikian of Imagine Software told his wife, Corine, that he was headed for the roof and that he could not talk long, she recalled. Others were waiting for one of the few working phones. Garth Feeney called his mother, Judy, in Florida. She began with a breezy hello, she later recalled. "Mom. Mr. Feeney responded, I'm not calling to chat. I'm in the World Trade Center and it's been hit by a plane. The calm manner of the staff could not contain the strain. Laurie Kane, whose husband, Howard, was the restaurant's comptroller, said she could hear someone screaming, We're trapped. as they finished their final conversation. Gabriela Waisman, a conference attendee, phoned her sister 10 times in 11 minutes, frantic to keep the connection. Veronique Bowers, the restaurant's credit collections manager, kept telling her grandmother, Carrie Tillman, that the building had been hit by an ambulance. "She was so confused. Mrs. Tillman said. 9:01 North Tower, 104th Floor, Cantor Fitzgerald, 1 hour 27 minutes to collapse Just two floors below Windows, the disaster marched at an eerily deliberate pace, the sense of emergency muted. The northwest conference room on the 104th floor held just one of many large knots of people in the five floors occupied by Cantor Fitzgerald. There, the smoke did not become overwhelming as quickly as at Windows. And the crash and fires were not as immediately devastating as they had been a few floors below, at Marsh & McLennan. In fact, Andrew Rosenblum, a Cantor stock trader, thought it would be a good idea to reassure the families. With his wife, Jill, listening on the phone from their home in Rockville Centre, N. Y., he announced to the room: Give me your home numbers. his wife recounted. "Tim Betterly. Mr. Rosenblum said into his cellphone, reeling off a phone number. "James Ladley. Another number. As the list grew, Mr. Rosenblum realized that 40 or 50 colleagues were in the room, having fled the smoke. "Please call their spouses, tell them we're in this conference room and we're fine. he said to his wife. She remembers scribbling the names and numbers on a yellow legal pad in her kitchen, as the burning towers played on a 13-inch television in a cubbyhole near the backdoor. Mrs. Rosenblum handed pieces of paper with the numbers to friends who had shown up. They went either to the leafy, fenced-in backyard, where the dog wandered among them, or to the front lawn, calling the families on cellphones. Rosenblum's group, including Jimmy Smith, John Salamone and John Schwartz, sat on the eastern side of the bond trading area, in one of the open areas, according to John Sanacore, one of the group who was not at work that day. The spot offered expansive views of the Empire State Building. On the opposite end of the bond area, overlooking the Hudson River, other traders were gathered. John Gaudioso, who normally worked in that section but was on a golf outing that morning, recalled that Ian Schneider sat at the head of a string of desks where he led a global finance group. Michael Wittenstein, John Casazza and Michael DeRienzo were all in that area, and, like Mr. Schneider, were using land lines at their desks to take calls from concerned customers and loved ones, according to six people who spoke with them. "The building rocked like it never has before. said Mr. Schneider, who was there for the 1993 bombing, in a phone call with his wife, Cheryl. In the equities trading area in the southern part of the 104th floor, looking toward the Statue of Liberty, there was a third group. Here, Stephen Cherry and Marc Zeplin pushed a button at their desk to activate the squawk box, a nationwide intercom to other Cantor offices around the country. "Can anybody hear us. Mr. Cherry asked. A trader in Chicago who was listening in later said that she managed to reach a firehouse near the trade center. "They know you're there. the trader told them. Mike Pelletier, a commodities broker in a Cantor office on the 105th floor, reached his wife, Sophie Pelletier, and was then in touch with a friend who told him that the airplane crash had been a terrorist attack. Pelletier swore and shouted the information to the people around him, Mrs. Pelletier said. In Rockville Centre, on the front lawn of the Rosenblums' house, Debbie Cohen dialed the numbers on the yellow pieces of paper she had been handed by Jill Rosenblum. "Hello? You don't know me, but I was given your number by someone who is in the World Trade Center. she said. "About 50 of them are in a corner conference room, and they say they're O. K. right now. 9:02 South Tower, 98th Floor, Aon Corp., 57 minutes to collapse Those in the south tower were still spectators, if wary ones. "Hey Beverly, this is Sean, in case you get this message. Sean Rooney said on a voice mail message left for his wife, Beverly Eckert. "There has been an explosion in World Trade One — that's the other building. It looks like a plane struck it. It's on fire at about the 90th floor. And it's, it's — it's horrible. Bye. Even in Mr. Rooney's tower, people could feel the heat from the fires raging in the other building, and they could see bodies falling from the high floors. Many soon began to leave. The building's staff, however, announced that they should stay — judging that it was safer for the tenants to stay inside an undamaged building than to walk onto a street where fiery debris was falling. That instruction would change at the very moment that Mr. Rooney, who worked for the insurance company Aon, was leaving a second message for his wife, at 9:02 a. "Honey, this is Sean again. he said. "Looks like we'll be in this tower for a while. He paused, as a public announcement in the background could be heard. "It's secure here. Mr. Rooney continued. "But ——" He stopped again to listen: if the conditions warrant on your floor you may wish to start an orderly evacuation. I'll talk to you later. Mr. Rooney said. "Bye. As Mr. Rooney spoke, United Flight 175 was screaming across New York Harbor. 9:02 South Tower, 81st Floor, Fuji Bank, 57 minutes to collapse Yes, Stanley Praimnath told the caller from Chicago, he was fine. He had actually evacuated to the lobby of the south tower, but a security guard told him to go back. Now, he was again at his desk at Fuji Bank. "I'm fine. he repeated. As he would later tell his story, those were his final words before he spotted it. A gray shape on the horizon. An airplane, flying past the Statue of Liberty. The body of the United Airlines jet grew larger until he could see a red stripe on the fuselage. Then it banked and headed directly toward him. Another one. "Lord, you take over. he remembers yelling, dropping under his metal desk. At 9:02:54, the nose of the jetliner smashed directly into Mr. Praimnath's floor, about 130 feet from his desk. A fireball ignited. Steel furnishings and aluminum plane parts were torn into white-hot shrapnel. A blast wave hurled computers and desks through windows, and ripped out bundles of arcing electrical cables. Then the south tower seemed to stoop, swinging gradually toward the Hudson River, ferociously testing the steel skeleton before snapping back. Through most of both towers, the staircases were tightly clustered, and in the north tower, they were all immediately severed or blocked by the blast. Along the impact zone of the south tower, floors 78 to 84, however, the stairs had to divert around heavy elevator machinery. So instead of running close to the building core, two of the stairways serving those floors were built closer to the perimeter. One of them, on the northwest side, survived. A report in USA Today this month also suggested that the surviving stairway might have been shielded by the machinery. However the stairway survived, it made all the difference to Stanley Praimnath, who, huddled under his desk, could see a shiny aluminum piece of the plane, lodged in the remains of his door. The plane, entering at a tilt, raked across six floors. Three flights up was the office of Euro Brokers, on the 84th floor. Most of the company's trading floor there was annihilated. Yet even there — at the bull's-eye of the airplane's impact — other people were alive: Robert Coll, Dave Vera, Ronald DiFrancesco and Kevin York, among others. Within minutes, they headed to the closest stairwell, led by Brian Clark, a fire warden on the 84th floor, who had his flashlight and whistle. A fine powder mixed with light smoke floated through the stairwell. As they approached the 81st floor, Mr. Clark would recall, they met a slim man and a heavyset woman. "You can't go down. the woman screamed. "You got to go up. There is too much smoke and flame below. This assessment changed everything. Hundreds of people came to a similar conclusion, but the smoke and the debris in the stairwell proved less of an obstacle than the fear of it. This very stairwell was the sole route out of the building, running from the top to the bottom of the south tower. Anyone who found this stairwell early enough could have walked to freedom. This plain opportunity hardly read that way to the band of survivors who stood on the 81st floor landing, moments after the plane crash. They argued the alternatives, with Mr. Clark shining his flashlight into his colleagues' faces, asking each, Up or down. The debate was interrupted by shouts on the 81st floor. "Help me! Help me. Mr. Praimnath yelled. "I'm trapped. Don't leave me here. With no further discussion, the group in the stairs turned in different directions. As Mr. Clark recalls it, Mr. Coll, Mr. York and Mr. Vera headed up the stairs, along with the heavyset woman, the slim man and two others he knew from Euro Brokers but could not identify. Coll hooked arms to support the woman, Mr. Clark recalled. One of them said: Come on, you can do it. We're in this together. Clark and Mr. DiFrancesco headed toward the man yelling for help. Praimnath saw the flashlight beam and crawled toward it, over toppled desks and across fallen ceiling tiles. Minutes earlier, this had been Fuji Bank's loan department, employee lounge and computer room. Finally, he reached a damaged wall that separated him from the man with the flashlight. From both sides, they ripped at the wall. A nail penetrated Mr. Praimnath's hand. He knocked it out against a hard surface in the darkness. Finally, the two men could see each other, but were still separated. "You must jump. Mr. Clark told Mr. Praimnath, whose hand and left leg were now bleeding. "There is no other choice. Praimnath hopped up, Mr. Clark helped boost him over the obstacle. They ran to the stairwell and headed down. The steps were strewn with shattered wallboard. Flames licked in through cracks in the stairwell walls. Water from severed pipes poured down, forming a treacherous slurry. They moved past the spot with the heavy smoke that the woman had warned Mr. Clark against. Perhaps the draft had shifted; maybe the smoke had not been all that bad to begin with. In any case, the stairs were clear and would be clear as late as 30 minutes after the south tower was hit. Meanwhile, Mr. DiFrancesco took a detour in search of air, climbing about 10 floors, where he found the first group to go upstairs. They could not leave the stairwell; the doors would not open. Exhausted, in heavy smoke, people were lying down, Mr. DiFrancesco included. "Everyone else was starting to go to sleep. he said. Then, he recalled, he sat up, thinking, I've got to see my wife and kids again. He ran down. 9:05 South Tower, 78th Floor, Elevator Sky Lobby, 54 minutes to collapse Mary Jos cannot say for sure how long she was lying there, unconscious, on the floor of the sky lobby, outside the express elevator. Her first recollection of stirring is when she felt searing heat on her back and face. Maybe, she remembers thinking, she was on fire. Instinctively, she rolled over to smother the flames. She saw a blaze in the center of the room, and in the elevator shafts. That was terrifying enough. Then, below the thick black smoke and through clouds of pulverized plaster, she gradually noticed something worse. The 78th floor sky lobby, which minutes before had been bustling with office workers unsure whether to leave the building or go back to work, was now filled with motionless bodies. The ceilings, the walls, the windows, the sky lobby information kiosk, even the marble that graced the elevator banks - everything was smashed as the second hijacked plane dipped its left wingtip into the 78th floor. In an instant, the witnesses say, they encountered a brilliant light, a blast of hot air and a shock wave that knocked over everything. Lying amid the deathly silence, burned and bleeding, Mary Jos had a single thought: her husband. "I am not going to die. she said, remembering her words. In the 16 minutes between attacks, those in the south tower scarcely had time to absorb the horrors they could see across the plaza and decide what to do. To map their choices about movements is to see the geography of life and death. Before the second plane hit, survivors said, the mood in the sky lobby was awkward: relief at the announcements that their building was safer than walking on the street, and fear that it really wasn't. In these critical moments, people milled about, trying to decide. Be at trading desks for the opening of the market, or grab a cup of coffee downstairs? At Keefe, Bruyette & Woods, nearly the entire investment banking department left and survived. Nearly all the equities traders stayed and died. One of them, Stephen Mulderry, spoke to his brother Peter, and described the blaze in the north tower he could see from a window. Still, the word had come from the building management that his tower was "secure. and his soundless phone was blinking for his attention. "He said, I got to go - the lights are ringing and the market is going to open. Peter Mulderry recalled. In the moments before the second impact, everyone in the 78th floor sky lobby was poised between going up or down. Kelly Reyher, who worked on the 100th floor at Aon Corporation, stepped into a local elevator headed up. He wanted to get his Palm Pilot, figuring it might be a while before he could return to his office. Judy Wein and Gigi Singer, also both of Aon, debated whether to go back and get their pocketbooks from their 103rd floor office. But Howard L. Kestenbaum, their colleague, told them to forget about it. He would give them carfare home. As some office workers spoke nervously of the loved ones they were rushing to rejoin, there was even a bit of humor. "I have a horse and two cats. Karen E. Hagerty, 34, joked, as she was squeezed out of an elevator spot. At the instant of impact, a busy lobby of people - witness estimates range from 50 to 200 - was struck silent, dark, all but lifeless. For a few, survival came from having leaned into an alcove. Death could come from having stepped back from a crowded elevator door. As Ms. Wein came to, she had her own battered body to deal with: her right arm was broken, three ribs were cracked and her right lung had been punctured. In other words, she was lucky. All around her were people with horrific injuries, dead or close to it. Wein yelled out for her boss, Mr. Kestenbaum. When she found him, she said, he was expressionless, motionless, silent. Hagerty, who had joked about the cats at home, showed no signs of life when a colleague, Ed Nicholls, saw her. And Richard Gabrielle, another Aon colleague, was pinned to the ground, his legs apparently broken by marble that had fallen on them. Wein tried to move the stone. Gabrielle cried out from pain, she said, and told her to stop. Gradually, those who could move, did. Wein found Vijayashanker Paramsothy and Ms. Singer, neither of whom had life-threatening injuries. Kelly Reyher, who had been on his way to get his Palm Pilot, managed to pry open the elevator doors with his arms and his briefcase. He crawled out of the burning car and found Donna Spira 50 feet away. Her arm fractured, her hair burned, Mrs. Spira could still walk. A mysterious man appeared at one point, his mouth and nose covered with a red handkerchief. He was looking for a fire extinguisher. As Judy Wein recalls, he pointed to the stairs and made an announcement that saved lives: Anyone who can walk, get up and walk now. Anyone who can perhaps help others, find someone who needs help and then head down. In groups of two and three, the survivors struggled to the stairs. A few flights down, they propped up debris blocking their way, leaving a small passageway to slip through. A few minutes behind this group was Ling Young, who also survived the impact in the sky lobby. She, too, said she had been steered by the man in the red bandanna, hearing him call out: This way to the stairs. He trailed her down the stairs. Young said she soon noticed that he was carrying a woman on his back. Once they reached clearer air, he put her down and went back up. Others never left. The people who escaped said Mr. Paramsothy, who had only been scraped, remained behind. Young said that Sankara Velamuri and Diane Urban, colleagues of Mrs. Jos from the State Department of Taxation and Finance, tried to help two more seriously injured friends, Dianne Gladstone and Yeshavant Tembe, both also state employees. All five of these people would die. Of the dozens of people waiting in the sky lobby when the second plane struck, 12 are known to have made it out alive. 9:35 North Tower, 104th Floor, Cantor Fitzgerald; 106th Floor, Windows on the World; 53 minutes to collapse So urgent was the need for air that people piled four and five high in window after window, their upper bodies hanging out, 1, 300 feet above the ground. They were in an unforgiving place. Elsewhere, two men, one of them shirtless, stood on the windowsills, leaning their bodies so far outside that they could peer around a big intervening column and see each other, an analysis of photographs and videos reveals. On the 103rd floor, a man stared straight out a broken window toward the northwest, bracing himself against a window frame with one hand. He wrapped his other arm around a woman, seemingly to keep her from tumbling to the ground. Behind the unbroken windows, the desperate had assembled. "About five floors from the top you have about 50 people with their faces pressed against the window trying to breathe. a police officer in a helicopter reported. Now it was unmistakable. The office of Cantor Fitzgerald, and just above it, Windows on the World, would become the landmark for this doomed moment. Nearly 900 would die on floors 101 through 107. In the restaurant, at least 70 people crowded near office windows at the northwest corner of the 106th floor, according to accounts they gave relatives and co-workers. "Everywhere else is smoked out. Stuart Lee, a Data Synapse vice president, e-mailed his office in Greenwich Village. "Currently an argument going on as whether we should break a window. Mr. Lee continued a few moments later. "Consensus is no for the time being. Soon, though, a dozen people appeared through broken windows along the west face of the restaurant. Vogt, the general manager of Windows, said he could see them from the ground, silhouetted against the gray smoke that billowed out from his own office and others. By now, the videotapes show, fires were rampaging through the impact floors, darting across the north face of the tower. Coils of smoke lashed the people braced around the broken windows. In the northwest conference room on the 104th floor, Andrew Rosenblum and 50 other people temporarily managed to ward off the smoke and heat by plugging vents with jackets. "We smashed the computers into the windows to get some air. Mr. Rosenblum reported by cellphone to his golf partner, Barry Kornblum. But there was no hiding. As people began falling from above the conference room, Mr. Rosenblum broke his preternatural calm, his wife, Jill, recalled. In the midst of speaking to her, he suddenly interjected, without elaboration, Oh my God. 9:38 South Tower, 97th Floor, Fiduciary Trust; 93rd Floor, Aon Corp. 21 minutes to collapse "Ed, be careful. shouted Alayne Gentul, the director of human resources at Fiduciary Trust, as Edgar Emery slipped off the desk he had been standing on within the increasingly hot and smoky 97th floor of the south tower. Emery, one of her office colleagues, had been trying to use his blazer to seal a ventilation duct that was belching smoke. To evacuate Fiduciary employees who worked on this floor, Mr. Emery and Mrs. Gentul had climbed seven floors from their own offices. Now the two of them, and the six or so they were trying to save, were all in serious trouble. As Mrs. Gentul spoke to her husband on the phone - he could overhear what was happening - Mr. Emery got up and spread the coat over the vent. Next, he swung a shoe at a sprinkler head, hoping to start the flow of water. "The sprinklers aren't going on. Mrs. Gentul said to her husband, Jack Gentul, who listened in his office at the New Jersey Institute of Technology in Newark, where he is a dean. No one knew the plane had cut the water pipes. "We don't know whether to stay or go. Mrs. Gentul told her husband. "I don't want to go down into a fire. she said. Among the doomed, the phone calls, messages and witnesses make clear, were many people who had put themselves in harm's way by stopping to offer a hand to colleagues or strangers. Others acted with great tenderness when all else was lost. Gentul and Mr. Emery of Fiduciary, whose offices stretched from the 90th to the 97th floors, had made their own fateful decisions to help others. When the first plane hit across the plaza, the fireball billowed across the western facade of the 90th floor, where Mr. Emery was in his office. "I felt the heat on my face. said Anne Foodim, a member of human resources who worked nearby. Emery, known for steadiness, emerged, the lapels on his blue blazer flapping as he waved people out. "Come on, let's go. he said, escorting five employees into a stairwell, including Ms. Foodim, who recounted the events. They walked down 12 floors, reaching the 78th floor and the express elevator, with Mr. Emery giving encouragement. "If you can finish chemo, then you can get down those steps. Mr. Emery told an exhausted Ms. Foodim, who had just completed a round of chemotherapy. When they finally reached a packed elevator on the 78th floor, Mr. Emery made sure everyone got aboard. He squeezed Ms. Foodim's shoulder and let the door close in front of him. Then he headed back up, joining Alayne Gentul. Like Mr. Emery, Mrs. Gentul herded a group out before the second plane hit. A receptionist, Mona Dunn, saw her on the 90th floor where workers were debating when or if to leave. Gentul instantly settled the question. "Go down and go down orderly. she said, indicating a stairway. "It was like the teacher saying, It's O. K., go. Mrs. Dunn recalled. Together, Mrs. Emery went to evacuate six people on the 97th floor who had been working on a computer backup operation, Mrs. Emery was hunting for a stairwell on the 97th floor when he reached his wife, Elizabeth, by cellphone. The last thing Mrs. Emery heard before she lost the connection was Alayne Gentul screaming from somewhere very near Ed Emery, Where's the stairs? Where's the stairs. Another phone call was under way nearby. Edmund McNally, director of technology for Fiduciary, called his wife, Liz, as the floor began buckling. McNally hastily recited his life insurance policies and employee bonus programs. "He said that I meant the world to him and he loved me. Mrs. McNally said, and they exchanged what they thought were their last goodbyes. Then Mrs. McNally's phone rang again. Her husband sheepishly reported that he had booked them on a trip to Rome for her 40th birthday. "He said, Liz, you have to cancel that. Mrs. McNally said. On the 93rd floor, Gregory Milanowycz, 25, an insurance broker for Aon, urged others to leave - some of them survived - but went back himself, after hearing the announcement. "Why did I listen to them - I shouldn't have. he moaned after his father, Joseph Milanowycz, called him. Now he was trapped. He asked his father to ask the Fire Department what he and 30 other people should do. His father said he passed word from a dispatcher to his son that they should stay low, and that firefighters were working their way up. Then, he says, he heard his son calling out to the others: They are coming! My Dad's on the phone with them. They are coming. Everyone's got to get to the ground. Even when the situation was most hopeless, the trapped people were still watching out for one another. On the 87th floor, a group of about 20 people from Keefe, Bruyette & Woods took refuge in a conference room belonging to the New York State Department of Taxation and Finance. During the final minutes, Eric Thorpe managed to get a call to his wife, Linda Perry Thorpe, who was waiting to hear from him at a neighbor's apartment. No one spoke from the tower. Instead, Ms. Thorpe and the neighbor listened to the ambient noise. "I hear everything in the background. Mrs. Thorpe recalled, including, she said, gasping. "Someone asks, Where is the fire extinguisher. Someone else says, It already got thrown out the window. I heard a voice asking, Is anybody unconscious. Some of them sounded calm. "One man went berserk, screaming. I couldn't understand that he was saying anything. He just lost it. "I heard another person soothing him, saying, It's O. K., it'll be O. 9:45 South Tower, 105th Floor, 14 minutes to collapse Minutes after the second plane struck the south tower, Roko Camaj called home to report that a throng had gathered near the roof, according to his son, Vinny Camaj. "I'm on the 105th floor. Roko Camaj told his wife. "There's at least 200 people here. The promise of sanctuary on the roof had seemed so logical, so irresistible, that scores of people chased their fates up the stairs. They were blind alleys. Camaj, a window washer who had been featured in a children's book, carried the key to the roof, his son said. That key alone would not open its door: a buzzer also had to be pressed by the security staff in a command post on the 22nd floor. And the post had been damaged and evacuated. The roof seemed like an obvious choice - and the only one - to people on the upper floors. A police helicopter had evacuated people from the roof of the north tower in February 1993, after a terrorist bomb exploded in the basement. For a variety of reasons, though, the Port Authority, with the agreement of the Fire Department, discouraged helicopters as part of its evacuation plan. Police commanders ruled out a rooftop rescue that morning. Whatever the wisdom of the policy, it came as a shock to many people trapped in the towers, according to their families and summaries of 911 calls. Only a few realized that Stairway A could take them down to safety, and that information never circled back upstairs from those escaping or from the authorities. Frank Doyle, a trader at Keefe, Bruyette & Woods, called his wife, Kimmy Chedell, to remind her of his love for her and the children. She recalls he also said: I've gone up to the roof and the rooftop doors are locked. You need to call 911 and tell them we're trapped. The 105th floor was the last stop for many of those who had climbed toward the roof, a crowd dominated by Aon employees. At 9:27, a man called 911 and said a group was in the north conference room on the 105th floor. At 9:32, a man on the 105th floor called 911 and asked that the roof be opened. At 9:38, Kevin Cosgrove, a fire warden for Aon, called 911, then rang his brother. Sean Rooney called Beverly Eckert. They had met at a high school dance in Buffalo, when they were both 16. They had just turned 50 together. He had tried to go down but was stymied, then had climbed 30 floors or so to the locked roof. Now he wanted to plot a way out, so he had his wife describe the fire's location from the TV pictures. He could not fathom why the roof was locked, she said. She urged him to try again while she dialed 911 on another line. He put the phone down, then returned minutes later, saying the roof door would not budge. He had pounded on it. "He was worried about the flames. Ms. Eckert recalled. "I kept telling him they weren't anywhere near him. He said, but the windows were hot. His breathing was becoming more labored. Ceilings were caving in. Floors were buckling. Phone calls were being cut off. He was alone in a room filling with smoke. They said goodbye. "He was telling me he loved me. Then you could hear the loud explosion. 10:00 North Tower, 92nd Floor, Carr Futures, 28 minutes to collapse "Mom. asked Jeffrey Nussbaum. "What was that explosion. Twenty miles away in Oceanside, N. Y., Arline Nussbaum could see on television what her son could not from 50 yards away. She recalls their last words: The other tower just went down. Mrs. Nussbaum said. "Oh my God. her son said. "I love you. Then the phone went dead. The north tower, which had been hit 16 minutes before the south, was still standing. It was dying, more slowly, but just as surely. The calls were dwindling. The number of people falling from windows accelerated. That morning, the office of Carr Futures on the 92nd floor was unusually busy. A total of 68 men and women were on the floor that morning, 67 of them associated with Carr. About two dozen brokers for Carr's parent company had been called to a special 8 a. meeting. When the building sprang back and forth like a car antenna, door frames twisted and jammed shut, trapping a number of them in a conference room. The remaining Carr employees, about 40, migrated to a large, unfinished space along the west side. Jeffrey Nussbaum called his mother, and shared his cellphone with Andy Friedman. In all, the Carr families have counted 31 calls from the people they lost, according to Joan Dincuff, whose son, Christopher, died that morning. Carr was two floors below the impact, and everyone there had survived it; yet they could not get out. Between 10:05 and 10:25, videos show, fire spread westward across the 92nd floor's north face, bearing down on their western refuge. At 10:18, Tom McGinnis, one of the traders summoned to the special meeting, reached his wife, Iliana McGinnis. The words are stitched into her memory. "This looks really, really bad. he said. "I know. said Mrs. McGinnis, who had been hoping that his meeting had broken up before the airplane hit. "This is bad for the country; it looks like World War III. Something in the tone of her husband's answer alarmed Mrs. McGinnis. "Are you O. K., yes or no. she demanded. "We're on the 92nd floor in a room we can't get out of. Mr. McGinnis said. "Who's with you. she asked. McGinnis mentioned three old friends - Joey Holland, Brendan Dolan and Elkin Yuen. "I love you. Mr. "Take care of Caitlin. Mrs. McGinnis was not ready to hear a farewell. "Don't lose your cool. she urged. "You guys are so tough, you're resourceful. You guys are going to get out of there. You don't understand. Mr. "There are people jumping from the floors above us. It was 10:25. The fire raged along the west side of the 92nd floor. People fell from windows. McGinnis again told her he loved her and their daughter, Caitlin. "Don't hang up. Mrs. McGinnis pleaded. "I got to get down on the floor. Mr. With that, the phone connection faded out. It was 10:26, two minutes before the tower crumbled. The World Trade Center had fallen silent.

Windows on the world watch full length hd. Ok. Since people actually seemed to want to see it. Here's what I actually have to say in response to the question asked in a previous thread about how black people feel about Black Panther. I fucking HATE black panther. The smug, stalinist, self-righteous, git. And yes, I know this sort of thinking is supposed to be Haram for me, according to the social justice overlords who are apparently of the opinion that myself and every other black person should be trembling mightily and praising our white-dominated society for throwing me a bone to chew on by finally giving us a character who happened to match my general level of melanin. But fuck them. And fuck them hard. T'challa is nothing more than a sickeningly, and quite frankly impossibly wealthy and powerful man with an animal theme whose father was killed before him by an evil man, who fights villains that threaten his home and its people, utiliziing a genius level intellect and knowledge, expert martial arts skills honed over a lifetime of training, an extremely keen mind tactical mind for planning and improvisation, while wearing a dark-armoured costume using high-tech gagdets and little pointy ears. And if this is all sounding really familiar to you, that's because they did it in 1939 and it was called BATMAN. Monochromatics of skin pigmentation aside, the only appreciable difference between Bruce Wayne and T'Challa in concept is that (aside from Bruce Wayne actually being LESS of a general douche let that sink in) whereas Bruce Wayne inherited all of his money, power, and unearned privaledge, by taking over his fathers company when he died. T'Challa inherited all of his money. Power, and unearned privaledge, by taking over his fathers entire country when he died. He's Batman, a character who many people already point out is something of an impossibly unrealistic Mary Sue, with even fewer flaws and vulnerabilities, and more power wealth and influence. Oh yeah, he also has a lot of magic knowledge and a grab bag of nonsense mystical based powers. He has defeated the Silver Surfer in hand to hand combat. Jury-rigged a machine mid-battle that knocked out Thanos in one go. Wielded the infinity gauntlet, raised an army of the dead, which he can command, and taken down Mephisto (Satan) with a single punch. really. Mephisto is a mutli-dimensional level threat possessed of power beyond many gods of the Marvel universe, a demon lord of such immense eldritch might that he threatens and recreates entire realities. So how does Black Panther overcome this foe who is threatening him? He punches him once and knocks his ass to the ground. Oh that's nothing. Check out this explanation for how he managed to do it. Yup. Wakandan scientists managed to figure out a way to turn off one of the fundamental constants of the universe and used it to shut off Mephistos powers. ience. Oh, and that's not even the first time he bullshit bullshits his way into a victory against Mephisto. There was the time he tricked Mephisto (the king of lies and deceit mind you) into taking his soul in order to get something out of him. But because his soul is tied to the Panther God and all of the bullshit bullshit souls of the bullshit bullshit previous Black Panther leaders, Mephisto has to accept all of them too. Unfortunately for him T'challa's soul (and that of the other Obsidian Pussycats) is the noblest and purest of souls he's ever encountered, so much so that trying to devour it actually hurts him. And that horrible sound you're hearing is my forebrain desperately trying to consume my frontal lobe. And this was BEFORE Marvel went social justice. I invite you to let that sink in for a moment, then feel free to curl up in a corner and weep. Then there's Wakanda, one of the most blatant Marysuetopias ever put to pen. In simple terms a marysuetopia is a society depicted in a piece of media which is absolutely perfect and wonderfully functions as a Utopia, despite obvious realistic and economic reasons why it shouldn't work. Basically it's perfect because the author wants it be perfect, and damn the logic. Wakanda is an African nation rich in the fictional metal vibranium. In fact it is the only place on Earth where it seems that the extraterrestrial metal can be naturally found. This resource has made Wakanda the richest nation on the planet with Vibranium being sold at 10, 000 a gram. Yes. a gram. Because of their great wealth Wakanda has a full health care system and one of the finest education systems where all children are educated completely free including college. This has also made them the most technologically advanced race in the world. Having split the atom a full century before the rest of the world outside their borders did. Their computer technology is so insanely advanced and unique that it is impossible to hack, but they can quite easily hack into any other computer on the planet. They use no fossil fuels such as gas or oil, not because they don't have those resources, but because they prefer to use eco-friendly energies for their vehicles and power sources like solar or anyone else getting sick just listening to this yet? Oh and they have the cure for cancer. Wakanda is also a heavily isolationist nation, surrounded by a massive wall that keeps out the rest of Africa. In order to preserve it's nation and customs for all of these centuries it has cut off any contact with the outside world and does not get involved in other countries affairs. Even to provide aid to their african neighbours, or to use their wealth and power to make the world in general better via their technologies, they maintain strict isolation. Well until THEY need help. Then they run off to the Fantastic Four, or the Avengers, or someone else. And you know, I actually wouldn't have any problems with this at all as a character concept. I could handle it, I might even like to read about it. IF the comics realistically portrayed T'challa and the Wakandans as the insufferable, sociopathic, egotistical douchebags they very obviously are. You can even still keep T'challa as being relatively heroic, as long as you keep the perspective focused on him and Wakanda. Protaginist Centered Morality is a very common thing in stories. But when you have to juxtapose him and them with the rest of the world, like moral paragons such as Captain America and Spiderman. Or the Xmen who, while sometimes morally dubious and sometimes dicks, always fight the good fight even if the world is against them. Trying to portray T'challa as the noble warrior doesn't exactly work. Hell he's one lab accident, a ve5ry slight moral shift and an eternal grudge against Reed Richards away from being a point by point copy of Doctor Doom. Seriously. The Black Panther comicverse is the fictional incarnation of white guilt. A black man, or in this case a black society, can be as shitty to everyone else as they want, and yet he is a still a noble and pure-hearted heroic savage in-universe to everyone who knows him. Even if you give him power and perfection by fiat more than anything else. "Look at how awesome we made the black man look. See how strong and mighty we're showing him to be? Now caper and dance for my moral amusement, you gloriously negroid Monkey Man. They even had the balls to give him Storm as a wife for a while. An actually good black character, and don't even get me started on how everyone involved with that decision should be roasted over a fire ant pit and buggered in the eye socket by pineapple dicked demons until Judgement Day approaches. And now that Marvel decided to pull down it's metaphorical pants and unleash this shit into the MCU I've got to watch all these low self-esteem niggers compete to find out who can give Marvel the most sumptuous moral blowjob. John Kani, who plays T'chaka in the film once spoke to TMZ about how the movie shows just what Africa would have been like without those damned evil white people coming in and knocking over our sand castles. I'm not sure if it's sad or hilarious that they are trying to conceptualize reality based on a fictional universe with talking cybenetic raccoons. They do realize that even in the MCU version of Wakanda all of that stuff still happened? It just didn't happen to Wakanda because they have a giant wall around themselves. Marvel Africa is still a violence ridden shit hole. But I guess we're going to ignore that, much as these Hollywood political liberals are wont to do when there's no photo op or a cute little nappy haired baby to adopt. Look let me ask you guys something. Who do you think was selling those slaves to the white men? You realize that they didn't wade into the deadly, unknown to them, jungle full of predators to catch people themselves right? They bought them from the kings and the tribal chieftains. The slaves who came over were largely prisoners of war taken during battles or on raids. The whites just built coastal forts as trading posts from which to do business and hung their signs out. It was we innocent and blameless people of colour who sold off fellow africans into slavery. Look I'm not going to pretend that slavery and the stuff that white people did in Africa are not a large contributing factor in why the continent ended up a giant shithole. Yes, they were scumbag slavers. Yes, they sold us the guns. Yes, they are assholes each and everyone of them. But WE are the ones who sold them the slaves so we could get the money, goods, and guns. WE took those guns and used them to make war on one another, tearing down our societies. WE are the ones who caused the massive labour shortages that led to poor production and poor crops because we carted 20 million plus men away and sent them to pick cotton. I'm just saying Honky Mcgee may be a proximal cause for the problems of Africa. But perhaps, just perhaps it's not the dystal cause. Oh, and fun fact by the way. Do you know how all of the major trade and contact between Africa and England got established? It happened in the 8th century when North Africa invaded and conquered Spain and Portugal. They established regular trade between Europe and Africa, centered their political power at Córdoba and turned the region into one of the most important Islamic cultural centers for centuries to come until they would eventually lose Spain and Portugal to the Christians in the late 15th. So if it bothers you that Whitey stuck his dick into African affairs and told us to bend over, well we gave him the reach around first. This is the kind of stuff I had to deal with reading all this crap in the media. And the absolute worst of it was the stuff like John Kani, Ryan Coogler, and Tre Fuckin' Johnson. The stuff coming out from these mindless black people who have absolutely not an ounce of self-respect for themselves or their own place in the world and want to drag every other black person in western society down with them. They're lapping up this shallow praise from an ideological group that is so blatantly manipulating them. Instead of doing anything about any real problems, you convince them that it's all a bunch of vague “society” shit. That way as long as you toss them the occasional irrelevant little treat, like making a movie with a black person and praising it for supposedly being ground breaking they'll smile and nod at you. Thinking that actually constitutes progress of any kind. Then toss them a couple of shiny awards and watch them flap their you notice how it seems to be the rich and the powerful blacks who are doing this. The privileged who are going along with this so easily. IE. The ones who don't really have any problems that might relate themselves to the average black person. But that's cool because we're all black, and that's the only defining trait any of us could have of any import. these people. Fuck these people. Just read some of these to excerpts from Rolling Stone contributor Tri Johnson and Ryan Coogler as they try to deepthroat T'challas whole length. Ryan ““I think the question that Im trying to ask and answer in Black Panther is, ‘What does truly mean to be African? ” the filmmaker recently told Rolling Stone. “The MCU has set itself in the real world as much as possible – so what does it mean for TChalla to move around as this black man in a movie reality that tries to be a real world? ” “ “When people ask me where Im from, I tell them the Bay Area and theres a sense of pride there. But the truth is, were really from that place. The place that everybodys from. ” “ “That said, Coogler tried to ensure that “with all the technological advancements, you dont leave the culture out. Africa is a culture that has been colonized and oftentimes demonized, so it was about reclaiming certain things as beautiful and powerful. ” “ “Thats African, man! ” Coogler says, laughing. “Thats my tribes world. My wife is a black woman whos incredibly strong and smart – and the more I get out of her way, the better my life becomes. I thought thats one of the things that makes TChalla brilliant. He knows how to get out of the way of amazing women in his life. ” “ ““The biggest thing for me was the themes of the story – letting them know where my head was at and making sure they would get on board, ” he says. “I was very honest about the idea I wanted to explore in this film, which is what it means to be African. That was one of the first things I talked about. “ Tre Johnson “Watch the new trailer, however – the one that dropped months ago for his stand-alone film – and youll see someone with the arrogance of Shaft, the coolness of Obama and the hot-headed impulsiveness of Kanye West. This TChalla is accessible, awe-inspiring and perhaps most importantly, human. “ “Yet Black Panther already feels different from all of this. Coogler has set out to do something with the modern black superhero that all previous iterations have fallen short of doing: making it respectable, imaginative and powerful. “ “As a child in school, I rarely reached for the black or brown Crayola crayons in my superhero coloring books; I have a lifetimes worth of Halloweens where I weighed how often I could or should dress as the white superheroes. I couldnt find ones that looked like me both outside of and underneath the mask. An entire generation of children will now know that a black superhero, society, imagination and power can exist right alongside Peter Parker, Steve Rogers and Bruce Wayne. An entire generation of children will not know what it feels like to not see themselves reflected back on costume racks, coloring books or movie screens. Were at a pivotal time where these characters and stories are coming not out of permission or obligation, but necessity. “ Ok first off, Ryan are a middle/upper middle class born fourth generation nigger from Oakland California. Not! bile from the Yuroba tribe. What do you know about the African experience? You went to Africa once for a few weeks and hung out with a couple guys in the city. I know you sure as hell didn't shoot this movie there. You shot the movie in South Korea. I can only notice that his display of what Africa is truly like mysteriously did not involve looking at the child soldiers, the mass raping of men and women, ruthless dictatorships, blood diamonds, poverty, aids, and famine. Instead it was all about cool tribal costumes, dancing to tribal music, slinging around spears and worshipping pagan animal gods. Because I guess that it's somehow less racist, and stereotyping when YOU do it? I'm not saying that there aren't wonderful things about Africa and it's many cultures, but don't pretend that you're taking any kind of realistic look or doing any deep soul-searching, when we both know you're going to completely ignore all of the shit of the cultures as well. Unless of course you can blame it on white people. Then I'm sure you'll have it do a little song and dance number under a spotlight. And you understand that there is no such goddamn thing as “African” culture correct? There are fifty four countries, hundreds of distincts cultures and languages, and several thousand dialects. There's no great mystical Afro power coursing through our Nubian veins that binds us together. The fact that you can even talk about African culture with a straight face shows just how little your western born bourgeoisie ass understands about it. I did a story once on a former child soldier who managed to escape in his teens. At age ten he and his family were dragged from their homes by an armed group of men. His father was forced at gun point to rape his own daughter while they laughed and took bets on how long she could scream before she passed out from the pain. and then were both executed in front of him. You really want to help black kids, you assholes? There you go. Go back in time and tell that kid not to worry because one day you'll put a black man in a superhero movie and it'll be a major step forward for black people everywhere. I'm sure he'll be comforted as he wipes the blood splatter from his baby sister out of his eyes and hair. Unfortunately you'll also have to tell him that this glorious black superhero marvel of Marvels wouldn't give two shits of a damn about him because he's not the right kind of African. Remember, this is a guy who can almost literally look out his bedroom window, out over the big wall that surrounds his nation and look out onto a barren desolate tundra where children are wallowing in filth, bellies distended from starvation and malnutrition. At which point he takes a sip of his tea brushes his hands together and thinks “oh well, fuck it! If they had wanted to eat actual food they should have known enough to be born in the right country. ” What part of this screams out Hero of the Oppressed Blackman to these people? The fact that he's black and powerful? Talk about low expectations. Give him any other skin tone and he would be openly acknowledged as the racially supremacist, fascist autocrat the character is. But because he and his people are black, they're more perfect than any other society or culture in the Marvel universe. I read articles by these people, and they are gushing over T'challa in a way that is disturbingly reminiscent of thirteen year old girls describing Edward and Jacob from Twilight. They talk about his power and his awesomeness, thing. They, they talk about nothing. Nothing beyond that he is black and powerful. And these are not short articles. But nothing about these articles would actually tell you about the movie itself or the nature of the character. It's all just sad and pathetic black men whining about society and how they never had any good black people to watch in films and relate themselves to. At least until Black Panther came along riding on the back of a thousand angels. Now finally they have someone they can relate to and see themselves cause he's black. And that's it. What's interesting is that I'm willing to bet pretty hard that they're lying about how horrible it was to have black role models or black heroes. I'm pretty sure that they're just looking back with a massive set of SJW-style beer goggles. But they've somehow concivnced themselves that not having enough men to look up to who looked exactly like them was a great detriment and blow to their childhoods. So much so that because of the detrimental effect done to their lives they were never able to grow up to be any better than hollywood actors, directors, and contributors for Natioanal Publications. Clearly the system failed them. And all their liberal friends want is to have the priviledge of showing a black man up on stage. A little dancing monkey up on the big screen for them to parade around. That's all that is. And these black men, like Ryan, like Jamil, like Tre, and John, they get to lap up the praise for their blackness like a puppy as if that is the only worth that they can see in themselves. This cannot be healthy for the children being raised in the black community. Telling them that being black is the one and only dikstinguishing feature about themselves, and the only thing that they can relate to. It's a recipe for racial tension and ignorance. It's hilariously ironic that the SJW/feminist crowd took Black Panther on as their Golden Boy, when he is the complete antithesis of everything they claim to stand for and believe in. Firstly, Black Panther is anti-globalist. T'challas whole worldview is marinated in a strong nationalistic conviction that constantly places the wellbeing of his peoples history, culture, and identity over any external attempts at opening up the culture and economy of Wakanda. Second, Wakanda is a hierarchal society thats intentionally racially homogeneous, and its immigration policy is effectively non-existent (unless T'challa wants to marry a hottie like Storm, and don't even begin to get me started on how many fucks that deserves) Other cultural influences are permitted to exist, as Black Panther believes them to be harmful to the wellbeing of his people. In fact even outside education is not allowed (again, unless you're T'challa. The only schools and universities are those run by the state and teach the state approved curriculum. Third. The Wakandan King enforces these policies through an entrenched military, the Hatut Zerzae (a former secret police force turned mercenary group. the Dora Milaje (the Kings all-female Praetorian Guard. Hey this is all starting to sound familiar again. Fourth. Wakanda is a theistic monarchy where all power rests in the hands of the male who happens to be on the throne. T'challa is not just king he is also the religious leader and symbol of his people. A position passed down from father to son (ie an actual patriarchy. Wakanda is not a constitutional republic, democracy, or any other form of governmental rule that emerged from the Enlightenment. TChalla is a militaristic absolute monarch & Wakanda is a nation that has historically thrived as a society where the king rules both as the national religious leader and the commander-in-chief. In Wakanda, there is no separation of Church and State, and TChalla is the authoritarian ruler of every aspect of Wakandan society. Fifth, and perhaps the most characteristically anti-globalist aspect of Wakandan society, is the fact that although Wakanda possesses universal healthcare and a cure for cancer, its government refuses to assist other countries. Wakanda is chiefly concerned with the wellbeing of its own people, foreign plights and would-be immigrants be damned. TChalla is basically a Fascist autocrat when it comes to ruling his country. OK. I think I pretty much exhausted my supply of bile for this shit and this character. And I feel oddly cleansed. For those who think that was too long, I warned you. This is what happens when you ask a cranky old nigger to tell you what's pissing him off about something.

How do you cradle board a fetus and where are the fontanelles? Some of this blokes stuff may be correct but no this. Me too i never got to visit it, in fact during the time that it stood there i completley forgot about it, i never thought about it until it the incident happened and it was gone, now im showing in an interest and always going on youtube and looking at what was once there wishing i had visited it when it was still there and regreting never being there. Fake news, climate change! next, you will believe man walked on the moon.

Foi muito triste este acontecimento. Not long ago I posted this answer to this prompt (part 1) and I realised that the original story I was telling was so brilliant that it had to be continued. After all, someone asking for Part 2 got like 6 upvotes. So like Prometheus I have descended from heaven to bring you part 2. r/writing told me that the best way to get a literary agent is to show them your Reddit posts, so it's not like I'm doing this for free. u/gragoyle, this is for you... Anyway please enjoy my masterpiece and don't criticize me please. “Samrose”, I insisted, “You have to let me take your letter and go to Hogwarts myself. I really really need to go to Hogwarts! ” “Katniss, no, as Ive told you a thousand times, and am repeating now for your benefit and no other reason, even if I dont want to go to Hogwarts, you cant go either. Theyll kill you if they find out you cant use the force! ” “Thats a risk Im willing to take, Samrose. Only 3 out of 10 children survive the Trial of the Grasses anyway, so if you go you might die too! ” “So then why are you so desperate to go? ” Dumblegolfs ancient face, mostly obscured by his incomprehensible eyebrows, flashed through my head. “Dont tell anyone about the Ring, ” he seemed to remind me. “If you do, I will kill you and destroy the ring myself. ” We had talked long and often about the ring and its powers, all offscreen of course, but now I can include the relevant bits of our conversations and exclude all the irrelevant bits, such as the many comments Dumblegolf made about my large, perfect breasts. The upshot of this was that the reason Dumblegolf refused to destroy the Ring was because it makes you sexually impotent (in addition to granting immortality) and despite being over 60 years old (one of the oldest living men) he was “not done whoring. ” “I dont know, Samrose, its just… I want to get out of here. Im sick of farming potatoes, all day, every day. I need… something more. ” “But youll die. Is leaving here really worth it? ” It was worth it. My sole character motivation was to destroy evil, despite not having any reason for doing so. I felt something pushing me to Hogwarts, to a TARDIS, eventually to Skaro. Felt like I was part of some plot, some kind of. story, I guess. that was pushing me forward to my goal. Maybe it was Destiny. I heard something from outside the window. Like the creakings of an old, arthritic mans bones. “Dumblegolf? ” I called out. I recognized his bone sounds. “Whos Dumblegolf? ” Samrose asked. I shushed her. “Me! ” The Jedi proclaimed, suddenly standing up outside the open window. “You remember me? I was at the party. For Benbo and Katnisss birthday. ” “God rest his soul, ” I interjected. “Yes, Yes. But I couldnt help but notice, dear ladies: you have a problem. One which I think I could fix. You see, Katniss wants to go to Hogwarts and Samrose doesnt want to die. I might have a solution. “Many of the richer students at Hogwarts keep miniature horses as pets. For some unknown reason, these horses stay with the students at all times. Its some rich person thing that Im too poor to understand. But perhaps, Samrose, I could turn you into a horse - ” “How? ” Samrose ejaculated. “Oh yes, Im a Jedi, ” Dumblegolf continued. “I could turn you into a horse, Samrose. Katniss, you could pretend to be her, and Samrose could still do all of the magic while in horse form! ” “But why would you help us? ” Samrose asked, confused due to not yet knowing that the Ring existed. “I was quite fond of your uncle, and both of you are pretty hot. Speaking of which, how old are you? ” “16, the age of consent. ” Samrose replied. “Were identical twins, as you can see. ” “Strange that that wasnt mentioned before, especially considering the birthday party that just happened, ” Dumblegolf considered, stroking his beard (which was so enormous that it was dwarfed only by his miraculous eyebrows. “But no matter. All that matters is that Katniss gets to Hogwarts and destroys the One Ring. ” “The One Ring? ” Samrose inquired, increasingly confused. “Wait, you havent told her about the ring? ” Dumblegolf incredulouslied. I shook my head. “You told me, ‘keep it secret, keep it safe! Why would I tell her? ” “Jesus Christ, Katniss, shes your sister! Your lack of emotional intelligence is almost as impressive as your perfect ass. ” I told Samrose about the Ring. She seemed nonplussed. “Huh, ” she declared. “Well, I know now why you want to go to Hogwarts. But I cant let you go alone. Alright. Lets do the horse thing. ” “Wait, Samrose! What will your horse name be? ” I inquired, not wanting to call her something she would be uncomfortable with. “I dont know. I dont know of any good horse names. ” She glanced over at Dumblegolf. Dumblegolf paused, seemed to reflect. “A great friend of mine was a horse rider, once, ” he declared finally. “His horse was named Roach. ” “A good name! Ill be Samroach, ” Samrose responded. “Samroach it is, ” Dumblegolf agreed. He began waving his hands and muttering under his breath, drawing complicated signs in the air. The light seemed to leave the room; the windows clapped shut and the door slammed closed. In the darkness, I could see only Samroses vague form, which began to collapse, like clay. Wind began howling inside the tiny room. Someone was screaming. Was it me? Was it Samrose? Out of the clay that had once been Samrose, a new shape began to emerge, blocky and ill-defined at first, like a childs drawing. The scream began to sound more animalistic. Out of the blocks of fleshy clay, muscles began to emerge. The shape grew larger and rounder, more organic. Then suddenly the lights returned. The winds stopped howling. The door and windows crashed open again. The room looked as if nothing had ever happened, except that in the middle, a chesnut mare stood, nearly as tall as me. The horse was wearing the tattered remains of Samroses clothes. It was still screaming. “Yeah, thats going to continue for a bit, ” Dumblegolf sidled over to me, so that he could be heard over the animalistic screech. “Shes in enormous pain. In the meantime, lets head outside. ” We did. Dumblegolf and I sat on the doorstep outside, the horse scream but a faint, distant sound. “So how exactly does the Force work? ” I asked, genuinely interested. “Im glad youve asked! ” Dublegolf proclaimed. “The Force can do literally anything (provided you are strong enough to do it, which is such a vague requirement that it never seems to matter anyway) however, the Force only works when there is no other solution accessible to you or your friends at the time. The bards like this system, because it makes for interesting stories while enabling us to get out of any hole weve dug for ourselves. ” “Interesting, ” I replied. “A shame that Ill never have the Force, as that would be a fun thing to have. ” “Indeed, ” Dumblegolf replied. “Its odd that you dont since the Force is genetic, and pretty much only people who are related to other Force users can use the Force, but oh well. Im sure this will never come up again. ” Inside, the screaming seemed to subside. “Shall we go back in? ” I asked. “Lets. ” Samroach seemed to resent her transformation, but seeing as she was now a horse, she couldnt communicate her discontent strongly. Dumblegolf slapped her on her horse ass. “Damn, ” he mused. “I never understood what Benbo was on about, but now I get it! ” “Im sorry? ” I asked, confused. “Oh, nothing, ” Dublegolf corrected himself. “Well, lets go to Hogwarts now. ” So we went. Our country used to be called “The United States of America, ” but ever since Emperor Donald Trump Jr. caused the nuclear holocaust of 2045 in an attempt to “own the Rhinocerouses” only the original 13 states remained. Massachusetts reabsorbed Maine, West Virginia reunited with Virginia, and every other state was destroyed. Now they are a mere wasteland. It is known that nothing lives there, except for the Texas cloning facility where the Clones, hideous, malformed soldier standing about 4 feet tall, are made. The clones fought in the Clone Wars, where they joined with Jedi (including Uncle Benbo) to destroy the Toxic Waste Dragon named Nuclear Smaug and his army of battle droids made of solid gold who invaded from the ruins of California. But now, they live and die in Texas, getting more and more deformed with each generation of interbreeding. The cloners claimed that it wasnt incest if the sexual partners were the same person, which I thought was sound logic but also missing the point. At any rate, the 13 remaining states became 13 districts: one, district 11, for farming potatoes (the one where I live) and I dont remember the other 12. In the capitol, which is near district 6 but technically distinct from it for some unknowable reason, the Hogwarts school of Force and Fun is rumored to reside. Necessary worldbuilding completed, we rode north toward the capitol. As Samroach cantered, labouring her breath (with Dumblegolf and I on her back) we conversed cheerily about the force, Time Travel and the possibility of death in the Trial of the Grasses. Our legs brushed along the ground as we rode, Samroach being a miniature horse, but there wasnt really anything we could do about that. “Dumblegolf, Im glad you have joined me on this journey, ” I proclaimed, glancing back at him. Only he wasnt there. He had disappeared. “Fuck, ” I complained. “I suppose he was too useful to stick around for long. ” I petted Samroachs head. “It looks like its just you and me, now. Lets get to the capitol. ” Before long, we arrived at the capitol. It was surrounded by a tall wall, with two guards at the gates. As we approached, they called out to us. “Halt! Dismount your horse and state your business, ” they ordered. I did so. “Katniss Bagdeenobi, ” I replied coolly. Samroach nudged me with her head, anxious. There was a long, awkward silence as I tried to figure out the implications of the nudge. Was Samroach mad at me for some reason? Impossible. No. She must be trying to communicate. Of course! I had left my letter from Hogwarts in my bag. “One moment please, ” I hurried, flashing my dazzling smile at the guards. I withdrew the letter from my saddlebags and glanced at it. “To: Samrose Bagdeenobi”, it read. “Oh shit! ” I exclaimed, laughing as I returned to the guards. “Did I say Katniss Bagdeenobi before? Haha, how humorous! I meant to say Samrose Bagdeenobi. All my friends call me Katniss, which is the reason for the confusion. Katniss is my middle name, you see. ” “That makes perfect sense to me, ” the guards replied, taking the proffered letter. “Oh, a Hogwarts girl, ” they communicated as they read. “Well, head on through, Samrose! Good luck on the Jedi Path! ” The letter contained a convenient map, which lead me down Pennsylvania Avenue (named, apparently, for a former State) towards a building called the White House. a bit of a misnomer, as the building was little more than a soot-blackened heap of rubble. I noticed a large number of other young people milling about, some with horses, some without. I dismounted. A young lad approached me. His skin was as pale as his hair, and he was the hottest man I had seen in a long time. “Hi, ” he slimed, extending a perfect hand. “My name is Tony D. Malfoy. The D stands for Draco, but if you want I can give you the D instead. ” It was a fairly smooth line, so I deigned to shake his hand. He winked at me. Unsurprisingly, he was as attracted to me as everyone else in the world. “Kat- I mean, Smarose Bagdeenobi. ” He raised an eyebrow. “Bagdeenobi? Like the Bagdeenobi? Benbo? The greatest Lannister to ever live? ” “I dont know about the last part, but that does sound like him. ” “Im not a fan of House Lannister, but even I have to respect the man. They say that he was the only man the Dark Lord feared; that, even though he was a master of the lightsaber, his greatest strength was in another sword. His dick, I think. ” “Sounds like Uncle Bagdeenobi, ” I conceded. “I havent seen him wield a lightsaber, but his dick was truly impressive considering the circumstances. ” I realised that I had voiced too much. I was worried that my description of Benbos genitalia might have clued Tony into the fact that he had possessed a Ring of Power. But he didnt seem to notice. He was too transfixed by my perfect tits. “Uh huh, very cool. So what house do you want to be sorted into? Im all for Stark. Targaryen wouldnt be bad, what with the dragons, but I think if I was sorted into Lanninster or Tyrell Id just kill myself. Im edgy like that. ” “Oh, I dont know, ” I wondered, unsure what these houses implied. They hadnt been covered in the worldbuilding. “Lannister, I guess? ” “Like your uncle. Well, we cant all be as perfect as we look. ” He winked at me, then disappeared back into the crowd. I must have looked somewhat confused, standing there alone with my horse, because a tall, slim woman bustled up to me, several children about my age trailing her. “Cersei Lannister, ” she declared, extending her hand. “You looked confused, and it was about time that a main Game of Thrones character was introduced. ” “Huh? ” I asked. “Huh? ” She replied. “What are you, stupid? Im Cersei Lannister! ” “Yeah, I caught that, ” I sighed. “Youre right, I am…” “Stupid? ” she ejaculated. “No, confused. ” “Ah, yes. Hogwarts can do that to people. One of my sons is here for the first time, too. Jeffery, say hello! ” A redheaded boy with a frogs face peeked out from his mothers skirt. For a 16-year-old, he was shockingly childlike and short. He didnt say hello, but he did wave. Ominously. “Im sure hell be sorted into House Lannister. All my children have been so far, and I am descended directly from Highlord Lannister himself! ” Cersei glanced at her watch. “Would you look at the time! ” she exclaimed. “Were running late! Come along, little girl, we must enter the White House! ” As I looked around I noticed nearly all the students were filing towards the heap of rubble. I couldnt see where they were entering. the large stones were dense, and must have obstructed my vision, but obediently I followed the woman, Samroach behind me. “So do we, just, walk through a stone and it magically takes us to Hogwarts? ” “No, you stupid whore! There's a door! Look! ” Indeed there was; a glass revolving door, smudged with fingerprints, barely large enough for a person to go through. I entered, then Samroach, then Cersei and Jeffery. In front of me I saw a train, perched precariously on a set of tracks which ran into the ground. There was a conductor, motioning people onto the train. “This way, ” he instructed. “Welcome to the White House, please get on the train, were running late, my boss will have my ass. ” Then as I passed: “Speaking of ass, youre a hot piece of it, yourself. ” I ignored him and boarded the train. Samroach and Jeffery followed, but I noticed that Cersei had stayed behind. She waved to us, wordlessly, then turned on her heel and sauntered (against the flow of traffic) back to the revolving door. She was going to have a hard time getting through, I imagined. Jeffery gestured to me. “Come on, ” he instructed. “Lets get a seat. ” Jeffery wasnt at all hot; he was a little chubby and wore unflattering clothes; but he also had a distinct air of command that made an impression on me. I decided that it wouldnt be worthwhile to say no. “I see you have a horse, ” he pouted. “Mother wont buy me one. This infuriates me. You look poor. How did you buy a horse? Did you steal it? ” “No, my… Uncle gave it to me. Uncle Benbo. Bagdeenobi. ” If Jeffery was impressed, he didn't show it. Instead the two of us strolled casually down the length of the train until we found a nearly empty car. surprising, considering how jam-packed the rest of the train was. “How convenient, ” I mused. “Im Samrose, by the way. ” “Yes, Yes, ” Jeffery replied. “Youre Samrose, but whos the naked bitch? ” He pointed to the nude girl sleeping alone on the car floor. From the way she was sleeping, it was clear that she was beautiful but just didnt know it yet. Jeffery grabbed her shoulder and gave it a vigorous shake. The girl stirred awake, yawning. Her large buck teeth became visible. They were hot. Upon realizing her state, she quickly covered herself up with her arms. She lounged seductively. “Who the hell are you? ” she gravelled sensuously. “And what did you do with my clothes? ” “Nothing, ” I protested quickly. “It was probably some horny boys. ” “That checks out, ” she moaned. I was beginning to feel challenged, as all women feel in the presence of an equally attractive woman. “Here, take my robe” Jeffery pronounced quickly, drawing it out of his backpack. “That should last until you get your clothes at least. Im Jeffery, and this is Samrose. ” “Mary Merigranger, ” she sexed. “Nice to meet you. Do you want to help me find my clothes? ” I shrugged. “Sure. Do you think its safe to leave my horse here? ” “Probably so, ” Mary and Jeffery concluded. “Just make sure to shut the compartment door. ” I did, and we strolled through the train together. We felt it draw out of the station and start heading downhill. presumably, it would lead underground to Hogwarts. As we walked, Mary pointed to a pale passing hotboy. “Those are my clothes that hes carrying! ” she whispered seductively. I whirled. and came face to face with Tony (the boy from earlier. “Kat-Samrose, ” he nodded. “Jeffy. Mary. ” “Tony, you piece of shit. Give me back my boob tube and extremely short skirt, ” Mary demanded. “Gladly! ” Tony smarmed. “I was just looking for the poor girl to whom these belong so I could return them. Id hate to be found naked sleeping in some compartment, after all. ” He winked at me. Mary yanked the garments out of his hand. She seemed to be seriously contemplating hitting him. “Hes not worth it, ” Jeffery muttered to her. “Lets go. ” As abruptly as it had started, the train stopped. As we exited onto the platform we saw, in one students words, that “Shadows had fallen in the valley below, but there was still a light on the faces of the mountains far above. The air was warm. The sound of running and falling water was loud, and the evening was filled with a faint scent of trees and flowers, as if summer still lingered in Elrond's Hogwartss gardens. ” In awe, we filed down a long flight of marble stairs, across a spindly marble bridge, railed with silver, and by twists and turns we found ourselves standing at the main doors to Hogwartss Great Hall, where a familiar face greeted us. “Good evening students, ” Dumblegolf proclaimed. “I am Dr. Dumblegolf…” “Doctor Who? ” Tony shouted out. “. and I”, the Doctor continued, nonplussed, “Am pleased to welcome all of you handsome boys and especially lovely girls (here he winked at me. or was he winking at the now-dressed Mary? I wasnt sure) to your first year at the Hogwarts school of Force and Fun! I hope your first year is uneventful…” “Last year, I hear that some of the students fought a radioactive cave troll in the bathroom, ” Jeffery whispered to Mary and I. “Ron, Harry and Hermoine, they were. Tragically killed, I hear. Thats probably why Dumblegolf is hoping for an uneventful year. ” “You will all undergo the Trial of the Grasses, this very night! Now you may have heard some dark rumors about the Trial: that only 3 out of 10 children survive, that they are dangerous even to the mightiest force users. Fear not, however, for this is not the case! Only 6 out of 10 people die in the trials, and you are not children at all, considering every person in this book. on this porch, I mean. is at least 16, the age of consent. In fact, many of you are 18, because we didnt find you soon enough. Those of you who are that age (Mary smiled here) will Im sure have the most graphic and kinky sex out of all of us. ” Upon hearing the -out-of-10 people die statistic, students began to murmur nervously, “But fear not! ” Dumblegolf continued cheerily. “For if you survive the Trial, you will already be well on your way to becoming Jedi. You will be sorted into one of our four houses. Targaryen, for those who like dragons and are smart; Lannister, for the bravest and hottest among you (here he winked at me (or was it Mary? No, Im sure he was looking at me. Mostly. Stupid bitch with her tits hanging out. I hate all women who are hotter than me) again) Stark, for the technologically inclined and evil among you; Tyrell, for the bitchy tryhards who will only be mentioned by me again to point out how bad they are at everything. So in we go! ” As he spoke these words, the Great Hall doors wooshed open and we filtered in slowly, staring around the hall in awe. The assholes in the back, standing around outside and waiting for us to hurry up and get inside, made their displeasure known. I walked no faster, leading my horse to a seat at the only empty table in the room. There were 5 other tables; one for each house and one for the faculty, who gazed down at us with something approaching contempt. Mary and Jeffery sat next to me, and shortly the table was full. I looked around. Not many of the students had horses, but there were a few. Tony was one of them. As we looked around, wondering where the food would come from, a group of Clones scurried in, carrying great platters of food and drink, sliding them easily on the tables. The spread was magnificent. From left to right, heres everything that was on the table. There were boneless wings, glistening orange, alongside towers of celery and wooden vats of warm bleu cheese; There were breadsticks, buttery and garlicky, alongside bowls of alfredo sauce; Plates of gourmet beef and chicken nachos, or chips and queso for the more simple among us; quesadillas with stringy pork brisket or tender chicken cubes peeking out from between their two tortillas; spinach and artichoke dip; softshell chicken wonton tacos; wings, celery and more bleu cheese, this time bone-in; salty pretzels with tasty, plastic cheese dip; mozzarella sticks, narrow but fattening; salsa and onion rings and salads and soups. Then the glistening barbeque ribs, plates and platters of riblets or if you premer, baby back ribs; and the sizzling steaks: Shrimp n parmesan sirloin; 6 or 8 oz top sirloin, bourbon street steak. they brought tears to my eyes with their smell alone. If chicken is more your thing, they had that, too: bourbon street chicken and shrimp; crisply plates and platters of chicken tenders; fiesta lime chicken and sweet and savoury grilled chicken and grilled chicken breast and classic chicken parmesan and chicken wonton stir fry, the smell of soy sauce wafting gently to the rafters. Then there was the seafood: blackened cajun salmon; hand-battered fish and chips; shrimp wonton stir fry; double crunch shrimp. I was beginning to be paralyzed. There were far too many choices here, and still the Clones brought out more food (food that wasnt potatoes. Stuffed rigatoni bolognese; broccoli alfredo in chicken or shrimp; three-cheese chicken penne; more chicken parm; pack and cheese, topped with caramelized chicken tenders; smoky mozzarella-topped ravioli. It seems the chef had gone on a pasta kick. The smells were beginning to overwhelm me. I was feeling dizzy. Then the sandwitches (will I be over soon? I thought. The clones were reaching the end of the table…) Bacon cheddar grilled chicken. Buffalo chicken. Grilled club sandwich. Prime rib. Turkey. Brisket tacos. 3 varieties of chicken wraps. Please god stop this madness. The table was now entirely covered with all these dishes, but to my horror, the clones started folding out more table, previously unseen. Oh god. Oh fuck. Burgers with eggs on top, burgers pretending to be quesadillas, triple-bacon and whiskey-bacon burgers, classic bacon burgers, classic burgers. Some with cheese, some without. Why did I ever come here? Samroach could have been facing this, not me. The Ring is not worth this effort. I have never felt so ill. Then came desserts; caramel blondies, brownies, brownie bites, chocolate lava cakes, hot fudge sundaes. The smell of chocolate joined the cacophony. An Aside. One would think that a person like me, never having eaten anything but potatoes and the occasional yam (for special occasions) would be overjoyed at such a spread. But often, to a starving person, such quantities of food hurt more than they help. This magnificent spread only made me feel ill, at the overwhelming excess. Was my Hunger just a Game to the Jedi? People were starving, and they were eating Quesadilla burgers? Even thinking back on it it disturbs me, sickens me. The clones were still not done. Fries, they added; mashed potatoes (finally, something familiar. mac-and-cheese, broccoli, green beans, skewers of grilled shrimp. Than the drinks; fruity teas, twice-fruity lemonades, both liquid and frozen; fountain drinks and shakes. I couldnt believe I was still conscious. I was dizzy and short of breath. The table bowed under the weight of all the dishes. My nose and head ached from processing all the scents. In short, the table was covered with every dish that you could buy at your local Applebees. It was truly staggering. I rubbed my temples and fell to with gusto. I had to watch my figure, so I only ate broccoli, but it was with enthusiasm that I finished a small bowl. I watched Mary inhale a plate of green beans. Pig. Soon all the students had eaten their fill, and the Clones began to clear the table. Dumblegolf rose from his seat at the head of the faculty table and cleared his throat. “I hope you all enjoyed that meal. For some of you, it will be your last. Bring out the machine! ” We turned our heads in anticipation as a large lead box was wheeled in. It was opened up to reveal a large scanner, like an airport security scanner, but covered in spikes with jets of fire shooting out the top. Samroach neighed anxiously. I patted her nose and sucked in breath. “This, ” Dumblegolf explained, “Is the Sorting Machine. You will enter it. You will undergo the trial of the grasses. If you survive you will join one of the four houses. I will draw names to see who goes first. ” Dumblegolf removed his pointy hat and a few slips of paper tumbled down his head. “Shit, ” he grumbled, scrabbling to pick them up. “Alright, ” he continued at last. “Lets see. First up is… Jeffery Lannister! ” “WIsh me luck, Jeffery whispered, standing. “Not that Ill need it. Every one of my siblings survived. Ill see you in House Lannister! ” I nodded, and then Jeffery sauntered up to the machine. “Here we go, ” he murmured, anxious in spite of himself. As he entered the machine, Dumblegolf instructed him. “Feet shoulder-width apart. Yes, like that. Hands up, fold them together. A little higher. There we go. Alright, kid. Good luck. ” Dumblegolf flipped a switch and green vapours began to flood the chamber. Some of the spikes descended down towards Jeffery and pierced his skin, filling his veins with the Decoctions of the Grasses. Jeffery was breathing quicker now. Suddenly he let out an unholy scream. His body twisted painfully, his jaw clenched. “Maintain the position, Jeffery! ” Dumblegolf shouted. Jeffery did, with great effort. His nose was bleeding, then his ears, then his eyes, then every pore in his skin. His shrieks ascended to heaven, meeting the smells from dinner along the way. Then suddenly everything stopped. the gas, the screams, everything. Even Jefferys breathing. He slumped to the floor of the chamber, eyes open. Red. Vacant. The Hall was silent. Dumblegolf cleared his throat. “Uhh, so that was Jeffery. Good times. Uh, next up we have… Tony Malfoy. ” Apprehensive, Tony stood. His trial went much the same as Jefferys. blood, spikes, gas, screams. but Tony exited the chamber alive, if not quite well. The machine had an announcement to make. “Never, ” it announced, in a loud, mechanical voice, “has there ever been a more pure Stark than this. All rise and acknowledge Tony, of House Stark! ” There was uproarious applause from the Stark table (and nowhere else. Tony stalked over to the table and sat down triumphantly. “Alright, well done Tony! ” Dumblegolf roared. Next we have… Mary Merigranger. Come up to the machine! ” Mary (that whore) breasted boobily up to the headmaster, wrapping herself around him. “Well, I think we all know that we have a Lannister right here, ” he whistled, drinking in her cleavage. Mary blushed shyly. That was the worst part about her; everyone loved her and she was so oblivious to it. “Thank you headmaster, ” she titted, pulling away from his hand. “Ill enter the machine now, ” she husked. Blood. Spikes. Gas. Screams. Masochistic bitch. Mary emerged, disheveled, from the spiked machine. The machine took one look at her soft body, somehow enhanced by all the blood, and pronounced her a Lannister, to the surprise of absolutely no one. Mary strutted over to sit with all the pretty people at the Lannister table. As soon as she sat, a hot prefect slid over and they started making out, heavily. “Samrose Bagdeenobi? ” Dumblegolf called for what must have been the second time. “Coming! ” I ejaculated, standing up, one-upping Mary for the whole world to see. Samroach started to follow me. I reached to stop her, but a student laughed. “Dont worry about bringing your horse in. Non-force-sensitives arent at risk from the trials. ” I gulped and looked to Dumblegolf for assistance. He nodded, understanding. “Leave the horse, Samrose. Lets get this over with. Were on a bit of a surviving streak, so try not to ruin it. ” I approached the machine. The other students words had calmed me, but they were small comfort in front of the large, spiky contraption. ” I exhaled. Gas filled the chamber. I held my breath as long as I could, but eventually my lungs, burning, surrendered. I took a deep breath in. Bitter. I closed my eyes. Another breath. I felt needles piercing my skin and almost cried out. I slowed my breathing. Relaxed. I felt nothing. No pain. Serenity. I screamed. I had appearances to keep up, after all. I couldnt fake the blood, but. And then it started gushing; eyes, ears, mouth, pores. Like everyone else. Perhaps Dumblegolf was helping me out. I still felt nothing. Then, a voice, piercing the stillness. Heard in my mind but not in my ears. Peculiar. “Katniss Bagdeenobi. Liar. ” “Who are you? ” I thought. “I am the sorting machine. You are not your sister. ” “I am not. But I have a mission to complete. ” “I understand. There is great potential in you. I sense a high midichlorian count, but one that has not yet begun to wake. Yet I am at a loss as to what to do with you. In which house do you want to be sorted? ” “Lannister. ” “You believe that is your destiny. To steal a TARDIS. To destroy the ring. ” “Yes. ” The machine laughed, deep and resonant in her mind. “You will not find your destiny in House Lannister. ” “I have to try. ” “You do. ” I felt the presence recede from my mind. Then everything stopped. The needles withdrew. The gas dissipated. I opened my eyes. A loud, mechanical voice pierced the silence. So unlike the kind, deep voice I had heard in my head. “Let it be known that Samrose Bagdeenobi was a sortstall. I could hardly place her, unique as she is. But a decision had to be made. And that decision was made by her. “Samrose wished to be sorted into… House Lannister! ” That tables cheers were quieter than I expected, but once the muted applause died down, the machine made a sound analogous to clearing its throat. It wasnt done. “Can you imagine? ” It laughed harshly. “ Lannister. The house of eight-point-fives or higher. ” The Lannister table joined in the laughing. I felt ill. “And this bitch is, what, an eight? At best? Get your fat ass over to Stark, ” the machine mocked. The Stark tables applause was equally muted. “Looks like were Lannisters sloppy seconds, huh, ” Tony sneered. I looked at Dumblegolf. We mouthed one word, in unison. Fuck. Anyway that's chapter 2 feel free to follow me on Twitter or Youtube where I regularly post this type of content. Hugs and kisses stay tuned for part 3.

Please don't forget to mention that Climate change is not just a financial-scam gravy train - it's the trojan horse for a planned unelected dictatorial global government to end democracy. The sales pitch of it's powerful proponents is: in order to (pretendedly) save the planet, democracv must be circumvented because the public cannot be trusted to know what's best for them (us. The power-seekers needed a scare story vehicle to achieve this goal; hence the alarmist carbon scam was acknowledged to have been planned decades ago, whereupon they set about spinning, and often fabricating, the evidence. The central intent of inventing a carbonic-bogeyman-scapegoat is to suppress the prosperity bestowed by fossil fuels (the cheapest fuel) because prosperity empowers and liberates a population. They want to undermine/ topple the strength of the more prosperous countries; and thwart-and-control the economic progress of the Third world. whilst simultaneously transferring vast wealth to the United Nations - an organisation where it is estimated that for every dollar going into the U.N., only 1 cent emerges out to benefit those in need. Thus, the U.N. (and particularly it's anti-scientific, avidly-political climate panel, the IPCC) is eamarked as the core element of the intended one-world un-elected government. The U.N. is already well on it's way to achieving this role thanks pertly to the ACTUALLY-FAILED Copenhagen intergovernmental climate Treaty - WHICH FAILURE they largely ignored and went ahead with anyway by implementing the establishment of nearly 700 new bureaucracies worldwide that are chiefly designed to transfer taxpayers money - AND POWER (via regulation) toward the U.N. i.e. away from national governments. The mainstream media are, as always, almost entirely silent on these matters - both then and since. The current estimated total cost of fleecing taxpayers worldwide via the U.N.-led climate scam is 1.5 Trillion (1,500 Billion) per annum. The same climate extremists are currently seeking to increase that figure to 10 Trillion per annum over the next 10 years i.e. 100 Trillion over the decade, to tackle that which is clearly demonstrably a non-problem.

Windows on the world watch full length hair. Windows on the world watch full length trailer. Windows on the World Watch full length. Windows on the world watch full length season. My deepest condolences To the families of these kitchen emplyees. Im a chef my self from Copenhagen Denmark RIP brothers and sisters And Thank you for this video Ive always wondered how Windows on the world looked like inside as well as the kitchen.

Community Requested Updates V2: For colour file version see link: Please read and feel free to comment your ideas! Contents Preface: Key: Updates: Crash Fixing & Bugs. Controller Update. Visual Effects & User Interface. Multiplayer & Races. REP and PINK SLIPS. Cops & Heat. Car Updates. Story. Car Modifications. Music. Thankyou. Preface: An updated version of the original Community Requested Updates with additions to features and bug fixes requested from members of the NFS Community. Updates: Ghost Note: you are probably up to date with a large portion of these requests already, if not working on some behind the scenes. Crash Fixing & Bugs As many people have experienced, Crashes seem to occur a reasonable amount in this game. Although its not the end of the world, and usually the players progress is saved, these crashes can really influence the enjoyment of a game. Vinyl customisation on cars seems to have some impact on performance and thus impacts the games stability. After driving a car with little vinyl customisation for a couple hours, switching to a vinyl heavy car caused the wrap to go blurry or not appear and evidently caused a crash to desktop when attempting to start a race. o Fix: letting the wrap load by going into the car selection menu in the garage or before a race, then exiting and continuing seemed to fix the issue for the most part. Waiting for the vinyl to load fixed this. Multiplayer Stability seems to be causing some crashes as well. There are random crashes that occur in the middle of races or when customising vehicles, again this could be due to the wrap but could also be due to hardware limits…. Need more testing and community response for this. If anyone in the community has similar experiences or has an understanding why these crashes occur, please send them forward to customer support. NOTABLE BUGS: Some User Interface Bugs are in the Visual Effects and User Interface Section) o Race Start Glitch: since update 1. 6) When slow or stopped in the area of an event, the Interface to start the event skips the “start race/change car” interface and goes straight to the “Solo/party/lobby” race interface. This prevents you from moving the car and means you need to exit out whenever you are close to event. The previous method before update 1. 6 was better. o Checkpoint missed or broken: § The Resorts Circuit race needs to have its checkpoints widened round the whole track. Sometimes you will get slowed to a slow pace when close to the wall or inside lane on the end corners. § Some races during a party race will display the player as missing a checkpoint, even when the checkpoint was correctly passed. No “Checkpoint Missed” message is displayed and ultimately ruining the players race. o Exhaust Flames: The flames do not appear in the right Location on the NSX RocketBunny Rear Bumper, or the Stock Mustang Foxbody with Stock Rear bumper and Speedhunter Exhaust. o Nissan Fairlady Window Option: Is a buggy window that will often revert back to stock when out in Free Roam or races. (Glitches also seen in the customisation menu) o Music Notification: When in races it appears over the names of the racers in the event. This makes it hard to read. Sometimes it also appears for such a short time that it cant be read…... maybe leaving it on for a little longer would be good. o Racer Challenges Notification: After every race, the “Racer Challengers Notification” appears on the right-hand side and stays there until the player hides it. Annoying and unnecessary…. The player can easily open the menu should they want to know what they are yet to complete. o Speedwall Cars Wrong: After completing an event in a specific car, sometimes the time on the speedwall will remain the same but the car will change to the current vehicle. This basically displays false car times in the speedwall. E. g. Time originally set with Porsche RSR on Sonic @ 2. 32. 96…… after doing the event with the Ferrari 488GTB, will swap the speedwall car to the Ferrari, even though the best time was set in the Porsche. Please send other bugs directly to EA Support: Controller Update One of the most annoying things that players experienced when playing the game is the lack of control customisation. o Allow players to change button layout…. Even button layout presets? Even though the previous issue was fixed, it would still be nice to see some options for button binds. Key binds on PC – A large portion of the key binds cant be changed. Payback had options that were somewhat proficient in allowing the player to customise key binds…. why change what works? Nevertheless, the option to brake or double tap accelerate to drift was a brilliant decision. Thanks! Visual Effects & User Interface PRE RACE: After seeing and using update 1. 4 I have read a lot of people wanting the Visual effects removed from the High Heat races put back. I understand why they were removed, but a large quantity of people werent having any issues and it totally kills the amazing atmosphere set for those races even if the loading time is a couple seconds longer. (Again, I think this may come down to multiplayer and hardware restrictions for some players. RACE EFFECTS: More of these effects could be added for other races as well, it gets a little monotonous watching the people film or take a camera photo of my car before every race. A little thing, but it makes such a big difference to the atmosphere. (Think NFS Carbon… races and races in General. BUSTED ANIMATIONS: Although the current busted animations are great, Busted animations from previous titles such as undercover had a good immersion value. Would be nice to see similar return. CAR SCRATCHES: Although its not really a big issue, it can be annoying to players that like a clean car. The car gains what seems like scratches on the body panels after a set duration in game even if the player has not crashed into anything, this mechanic is fine. What would be nice is if these scratches would be fixed after going through a petrol station along with all the other physical damage our car receives while driving. CHARACTER: The Character in the Game feels totally underutilised and the immersion could be improved with more interaction with our in game Character. This would be achieved by providing more story, producing more in-game cutscenes (Much like the ones from Most Wanted, Carbon, Undercover) and using them more with crew events and battles. Animations are ok as they are, but would be nice to have some cool 1v1 animation sequences if Icon Pink Slip Boss Races are introduced. FILM GRAIN: What is with all the film grain? Please add an option in the graphics settings to turn this off. It seems to be semi-adjustable through the settings already, but would be nice to have a clear “Film Grain” option. GARAGE ORGANISATION: The current player garage car selection menu is annoying to use. It can take a while to find the car you are searching for…. Especially with many of us having more than 30 cars and potentially some duplicates. § It also doesnt help that the image doesnt show the car with the applied wrap but the original car colour. This would be helpful for finding cars, especially if you have multiple of one type of car. § Either a: Sort by option (Car Level, Name, Manufacturer, Vehicle Type [JDM, Muscle etc. § OR: The option to swap the position of cars in the slide list (Much like how you can change layers with the vinyls. This could be implemented through a number system where each car is numbered and you can sort by number or just a move left or right feature while in the car selection interface. CAR STATS – Car Weight instead of power on the main stat page: The Power bar on the main Car Stat interface is unnecessary as the power stat can be seen on the secondary page. It would be more useful for players to be able to see the weight of the car as that seems to have an impact on how the car handles. Amazing job on all the other visual effects though, the world is amazing. The rain, puddle and ember effects at night. Multiplayer & Races Difficulty: Apart from the fact that the AI are generally too slow even on Hard Difficulty, they seem to be okay when it comes to variety between races. Please make an Ultimate difficulty where the AI should be a challenge for those of us with some reasonable experience in racing games. (I know there are a lot of us. o Not sure if as Devs you can see the times for the races people are setting but beating global average times would seem reasonable and adding a bonus of 5% BANK to the race for top 3 places on Ultimate Difficulty. CUSTOM RACE CREATOR: As players, being able to create races would provide another medium of play and extend the game life of NFS. Players should be able to make races using a checkpoint tool and be able to upload them into a database using tags so that people can search for races made by the community. o Create races for night and day. o You could create a race anywhere and however you like…. Would allow for custom drag races. o Custom weather for the race o Traffic/or none o Let the player pick the level requirements/restrictions of the car. Could also include type of car e. muscle or Tuner/JDM, country of origin, year. o Let the player determine how many players can race. o The game calculates the reward based off the car level and length of race. o Add option to restrict NOS use and certain vehicles in the race. g Nissans only, or no Porsche RSR etc. INCREASE PAYOUTS FOR HIGH LEVEL DAY RACES: Not all races have high level pay-outs. It would be nice to see all races have a high Tier (eg. 320+ level) race which would encourage player to make the use of all the races on the map rather than just the current high paying ones. Most high-level races, depending on the length, should give at least 50k to the player. EXCLAMATION POINT & COMPLETION MARK/REATH: It is slightly unclear what all of these symbols and markings mean on races…... it would be nice if there was a key or some sort of clear description on races so that completionists can fill out the map. There is the circle and Reath shape background for races which we think displays completion, clarity on this would be great. The Exclamation mark should disappear once you have completed both level events. NIGHT RACE UPDATES: After obtaining the Ultimate parts through night-time racing, there is little incentive to go back into night. Cash incentives or a pink slip incentive for staying in night races would be great. o This could also be aligned with more integration with crews, The League and potentially the return of characters or crews from previous NFS titles such as Carbon or Most Wanted. DAY TIME RACING: The atmosphere of Daytime racing feels weak in comparison to the awesome atmosphere from night racing. Would be great to have a more alive feeling (Think more of a ProStreet atmosphere. Multiplayer: More Multiplayer Please. Bring Back Speed lists, competitive racing is super fun and adds replayability. See the video made by BLACKPANTHAA, for some ideas: Bring Back the Challenge Series from older games…. specifically restricted class or car that challenge the user to the limit. Racing, Off-road, drifting, Time trials, Speed traps, you name it. Some of these challenge series were Super fun. If you could add these in the world map as an event that would be crazy cool. More people per server: 8 people to form a party is great and 16 per server is cool too, but a large majority of the time people are in events that arent displayed on the map and so the game can feel dead even if the server is full. o Not sure how you would implement this but an increased server size to make it feel as though it was less dead would be amazing. (Could still restrict race numbers to current limit but just allow more people in free roam. Fun Events: Put fun group events into the game o Cops and Robbers o Hide and Seek o Cat and Mouse Im sure the community can come up with more…. Those are just a start. Races: MORE RACES Please. Drag Races? We got them drag tires, but nowhere to use them other than in drift events 😉) Night and Day. Super Long Drift Events – Think the recent Climbkhana. A crew member and I went drifting recently up in the hills recently and enjoyed trying to dodge cars while chaining large numbers of turns together. (Something I miss from the canyon events in NFS Carbon) Night and Daytime. This includes team drift events like from 2015. Night Off-road Races? – Where are the off-road Night Races at? Need more of these please. Bring the Discovery Races from the night to the Day and add a crazy long race or two (20 mins or more long that take up the whole map. Timelimit Checkpoint races Knockout Circuit Races CREW vs CREW Events. Make being in a crew a competition After playing several hours of Heat since launch, I still see a large portion of people in the default GHOST Crews. Although this isn't a bad thing, the crew mechanic in this game is slightly underutilized and we have some ideas that could improve the multiplayer gameplay for all players which involve Crews. Ideas: o Global Speedwall: Being able to see a global speedwell would allow you to see which crews hold the fastest times/best drift scores but also allow you to view crews that have similar ability to you in terms of times and scores, should you want to join a new crew. o Crew Rep Leader board: Being able to see the most rep earned by crews so there is something after Crew lvl 50 to aim for with Rep. Seasons or updates would also allow new rewards to be added for further rep milestones for the crew (BANK, Cars Unlock and Visual Mods. o Crew Description Tags: tags for your crew (such as race, drift, drag, cruises, car shows, muscle, exotic, tuner, JDM, competitive, active, adult, car design/wraps, Free Roam events, Prefer Night Racing, Money Grind, Everyone Welcome, Highly Competitive only, Insert Country Here. Insert Time zone here. etc) would allow you to search for people and crews that have similar preferences to your own while playing the game. Each Crew can have up to 3 tags to keep searching simple. o Conquered Zones: § Much like the zone conquer mechanic in Carbon, players who have the fastest time in a race hold control of that race. § If they control all the top scores for all the events in one zone (the zones currently used for the collectables and activities) they then control that zone and the rest of the crew get notified. § Maybe the area could have a red border or there is a notification/control map within the crew interface. § This would provide a few battles for specific zones and a challenge for crew members to control the whole map. o Crew vs Crew zone battles: § The zone battles would work the same as the Conquered Zones except each week (after a crew zone battle is accepted) two or more crews will battle it out to see who can control the most zones on the map. § These could be done each month and your total zones conquered tally would give you unique rewards each month depending on how many you conquer. Eg. Stage 1. 5 or more zones = new livery & 100, 000 [Stage 2. 10 or more zones = new horn & 200, 000 [Stage 3. 15 or more zones = new neon and NOS colour & 300, 000 [Stage 4. 25 or more zones = custom number plate 500, 000 (Each stage would include the rewards from the previous stage. So 25 or more zones would = unlock all items and 1, 100, 000 for players that took part) This would provide a greater incentive for members in the crew to participate to unlock items together rather than just receiving them like we have with update 1. 5. While also encouraging players to do all events on the map rather than just repeat the ones that provide high rep or bank. o Crew Cinematics: A generic cinematic could be used (Think NFS Carbon crew or Most Wanted Blacklist cinematics with cars and characters) with our own crew cars and avatars. This may work much like how the personalised teaser trailer was done with the app cars except this is done on a crew basis for crew battles and other seasonal events where the cinematic acts as a loading screen for the opposition so they can see who they are playing against. The cinematic would ideally flip through a full crew avatar shot and maybe a couple of random crew car cinematics as well, drifting and racing. The option for each crew to pick a song from the game Songlist for the crew cinematic would be great too. o Customisable Crew Icons/Logo: Customising your crew logo using the vinyl editor. Allows for more variety (This would tie in with points 3 & 4 and allow for more personalisation. This icon could also be available in the wrap designer in-game so that you can display your crew icon on all your cars (Essentially a more personalised version of what we have now. It would also be used for captured zones/races much like in NFS Carbon. Overall, the crews in Heat are limited as you need to be an Origin/PSN/Xbox Friend with someone before you can invite them to your Party. Not sure why you can't invite crew members without friending them? I guess that's a limitation by the software? Please correct me if I am wrong. Crews then only become useful for time trials, drift scores and times and overall they feel really underutilized. REP and PINK SLIPS Once we hit Lvl 50 Rep and unlock all the Ultimate+ parts (other than to have some fun with the cops in a night environment) it is almost unnecessary to drive at night. Here is an interesting solution myself and a couple people I have talked to would like to see implemented. Increase Rep limit to Infinite or super high, Why is there a cap. For every 10 Rep Levels past level 50 (60, 70, 80…... and so on) there is a night event that acts as a ULTIMATE DIFFICULTY 1v1 Pink Slip race. Starting from the worst cars in the dealership, you would be given the chance to win the custom car off the opponent. There are over 100 cars in the game currently so that would mean almost infinite replayability. It would also bring back the grind and desire to play at night. With Endgame cars such as the Regera and P1GTR being available in a Pink Slip after level 1000. Could also be another night incentive where for every 2 Million Rep Earned an Icon Pink Slip Race is Available with an ultimate difficulty 1v1 race takes place. These races could take place against Icons from Previous NFS Games and their Iconic cars. o It would also be great for 100% completers who want to get trophies of all the pink slips. o We understand this is going to take a reasonable amount of work but man would it be awesome to see this feature in game. #BRINGBACKPINKSLIPS Cops & Heat There has been a lot of controversy surrounding the cops in HEAT, however I think most players can agree that the cops in this game are one of its best brought back features from the old games. They can be hard to go up against, but that is the fun of it. There are jumps which act as speed breakers, hiding spots do work if you get out of the line of sight (Just because there are no cooldown zones or speed breakers on the map, doesnt mean that they arent put in the game as a valid escape tactic. o Tip: use the Radar disabler in your Auxiliary, it makes a big difference when trying to hide. When you are a higher level (Car Lvl 300. the cops become simple to beat once you know the map. I think this is great, as it teaches you to be careful with cops early on. o Some People would like Higher Heat Levels (6-10) with faster cops (Dubai Lambo style or trucks with bull bars for example) with additional car roadblocks. – Although not entirely necessary it could be fun to add more challenge at the higher levels. #BRINGBACKCROSS Thanks for making the cops better in HEAT, havent had so much thrill in an NFS game for a while. Car Updates SUPERCHARGER: We can hear the turbochargers fine, but can we turn up the volume on the Superchargers please. MUSCLE CARS: Muscle cars seem super weak again in NFS, many dont have the appropriate max upgrades (400+ and their power, although seemingly large doesnt match the handling ability of other cars, thus making them less competitive. o Fix: add drag races and increase acceleration on all muscle cars slightly. This would make them usable for events other than drift. PORSCHE RSR: Another year, another year this car is OP as heck. o Fix: Reduce its top speed by 20-25kph. This would restrict its overpowered nature on the longer races where top speed is incredibly useful, while allowing it to remain strong on the shorter circuit tracks where its handling goes to town. Its Acceleration isnt too OP (It aint AWD) and its handling works well for the image of the car, so it doesnt make sense to nerf those too much. o This would make it more like the Mitsi Evo 9 as that also struggles to keep up with cars on longer tracks but is quick in short races due to its acceleration. CAR LIST: The Car list is great in this game. As usual the community is great at letting everyone know which cars they would like in the game. This list includes cars that have been requested a reasonable amount in the community. This list can of course be added onto, but I thought it was appropriate to start with the most requested. Toyota: We see FORZA got Toyota back, we are hoping you can do the same! o Supra (GR. MK4) o Corolla AE 86 o JZX100 More K. S. Cars and Bodykits – (Please add the Kits, as it would be nice to be able to change the wrap and wheels on the K. Cars to provide more personalisation in game. Aston Martin: o DB9 Audi: o R8 – Le Mans Quattro (2003) o RS6 BMW: o Z4 GTR Bugatti o Veyron o Chiron Cadillac o Eldorado Chevrolet o Impala (1964) Ford: o GT (2006) o Escort MK1 Koenigsegg: o CCX Lamborghini: o Gallardo Lexus: o LFA o LC500 Mazda: o RX8 (2003) o RX3 (1974) McLaren o F1 Mustang: o GT (2005) Mitsubishi: o Eclipse (1999) o Evo VI Nissan: o 300ZX o S14 Pagani: o Zonda Porsche: o Carrera GT Shelby o GT500 o 427 VW: o GOLF R32 (2004) Story Story: The story is the best it has been in a long time. Reasonable Characters, not too cheesy, interesting storyline, but way too short. Like mentioned in the note, it would be cool to see Cross or someone come back into NFS o Other Characters we would love to see come back are the likes of RAZOR, DARIUS, KENJI, WOLF and ANGIE (After Leaving the city after their defeats from CARBON) EDDIE (New ride could be interesting. MERCER, TORRES, SHAW. o These characters could be reintroduced with the PINKSLIP System described before with their new/old cars. Otherwise, more story would be ideal…. It felt as though the story ended prematurely so there is an expectation that something is to come. If a decent story update doesnt come in the following year I think quite a few people will be a little disappointed. We dont want some tack on like the speed cross DLC from Payback either, although fun, it didnt really sit with the story or make much use of the content already in game. Overall, Good job on the story improvements…. Looking forward to the year to see what ya bring us! Car Modifications CARS MODIFICATIONS: A large proportion of the new cars in the game have very little modification. Us players understand that it must take a long time to get all the mods created, especially the bumpers to make sure they dont clip etc. Thank you for the work youve done so far, the customisation is what set NFS apart from other racing games. However, it would be nice to see more customisation on cars. The newer cars to this specific game, such as the Ferrari Pista and Testarossa have very limited and underwhelming modification. On the whole, the community would prefer less cars, but each with a large amount of modification, over a 400+ car list with no modification. Examples of car modifications: o Fitment for wheels on cars. Bring back the settings used for NFS 2015. They were great. (Rake & Track Width) o The ability to Search vinyl/wrap artist by Username o A “NFS Curated Tab” in the Wrap section which highlights some high quality wraps in the community rather than just “highly popular” which can sometimes just be a colour wrap. o Fix Unwanted outline that appears when you overlay a “Non-Metal” decal with a “metal” one o Bring back missing Decals – Manufacturer logos and other Crew Decals from previous games. o Some new vehicles cant use all tyre options o Some new vehicles cant change headlight colour o Some new Vehicles cant change exhaust o Cars with variants (Eg. Ferrari 488 GTB and Pista) although have similar bodies have completely different mods…... Could be nice to include more mods for those of us that want it. o Blowers through the hood for Muscle Vehicles o Ferrari Testarossa: Cant add a mirror on other side of vehicle. I know the og had 1 mirror, but it would be nice to add the mirror counterpart. o VEILSIDE and other manufacturer Bodykits (Big ask for a couple cars, but they are iconic) AUTOSCULPT: This feature was one of the greatest customisation features to have been released in the NFS Franchise, where players could truly control how their car looked. There are already plenty of NFS bodykits available in-game, so although it is likely a very large update to the game, it would allow users to edit the bodykits on cars that might not have much customisation options. This would include spoilers, to make them not so huge for those that like smaller spoilers on their cars etc. There are more, but these were some that bugged me. Of course not all cars need heaps of modification, but the community seems to be aligned with the idea that in the future, more modifications on the single Lamborghini Huracan or Ferrari 458/488 is far superior than supplying us with 4 types of Huracan/Ferrari of that similar model type with very little customisation. Other Car & UI Updates: DRIFT TYRES: Make Drift/Showcase Tyres what current Drag tyres are but without the wheelie action, this way we can actually drift with drift tyres. – Seems to be mostly viable with RWD cars. AWD cars seem to be better with the current drift tyres. SNAPSHOT MODE: o Please supply a better Depth of Field effect that doesnt put an edge around the car when used. o Settings for time of day and weather o Option to add Motion Blur to ground and environment o Ability to Turn on/off lights while bagged (This would be cool if it was another multiple keybind such as LB+Y) SPOILERS: TOO MANY BIG WINGS. Ok, so this has annoyed me and others a fair bit. We like spoilers, but in this game, most of the spoilers are oversized and too big as if they were drawn by a 6-year-old. Please adjust a couple of the spoilers to be slightly lower (under roof level height seems to be about right) so that some of us non-BIG WANG enthusiasts have more variety to pick from. Mentioned in autosculpt section. SOUND SYSTEM: Does the sound system modification do anything worthwhile…. havent noticed anything from in game, as it cant really be seen in most cars it seems. Please correct us if there is something I havent noticed. Seems like a gimmick upgrade/modification. Mirror Feature: Bring Back the optional rear-view mirror USER INTERFACE feature from previous NFS games while driving. First Person Mode: It seems as though the interiors are reasonable in game, and maybe apart from the speed dial and animations seems it could be viable…... is it possible to put in the game? Music EA Trax from Older Games: Being able to access or listen to older games soundtracks in the game (UG, Carbon, MW, Undercover) would be super nice. We can do it via computer external music player. But it would be nice to have in the game. Custom Radio. If old tracks arent introduced, could we have more old-school tracks. Priceless (Feat. Birdman) – Flo Rida etc. o Understand that the Game is Set in a Miami Styled city, but there is just way too much Latino styled music and it becomes repetitive fast when you have played multiple hours. o We also need more rock and metal in certain areas of the game. Some of the best songs from the old games were rock and metal. o Maybe this could be implemented alongside the EA Trax in the menu where you can control the music in game. Thankyou! Just in case anyone is salty about this list, remember this is just a compilation of some of the main updates that I have seen requested by the community and doesnt incorporate everyones individual opinion. THANKYOU VERY MUCH GHOST FOR MAKING AN AMAZING GAME.

Get Netflix - Microsoft Store Overview System Requirements Reviews Related Description Netflix has something for everyone. Watch TV shows and movies recommended just for you, including award-winning Netflix original series, movies, and documentaries. Theres even a safe watching experience just for kids with family-friendly entertainment. Now on Windows, you can enjoy every detail of the worlds favorite shows in 4K Ultra HD on Netflix. Download many of your favorite series and movies with the simple click of the download button. You can watch while youre on the go or without an Internet connection on your PC, tablet or laptop with Windows 10. How does Netflix work? Instantly watch TV shows and movies through thousands of internet-connected devices. You can play, pause, and resume watching, all without commercials. - Netflix adds new content all the time. Browse titles or search for your favorites. - The more you watch, the better Netflix gets at recommending TV shows and movies that youll love — just for you. - You can create up to five individual profiles within a single Netflix account. Profiles allow different members of your household to have their own personalized Netflix experience built around the movies and TV shows they enjoy. If you decide Netflix isn't for you - no problem. No contract, no cancellation fees, no commitment. Cancel online anytime. By clicking INSTALL, you consent to the installation of the Netflix application and any updates or upgrades thereto. Screenshots You may not access this content Additional information Published by Netflix, Inc. Copyright 1997-2018 Netflix, Inc. Approximate size 74. 57 MB Age rating For ages 13 and up This app can Use your microphone Access your Internet connection Access your Internet connection and act as a server. Access your home or work networks hevcPlayback Installation Get this app while signed in to your Microsoft account and install on up to ten Windows 10 devices. Language supported English (United States) English (India) العربية (المملكة العربية السعودية) ( ) Čeština (Česká Republika) Dansk (Danmark) Deutsch (Deutschland) Ελληνικά (Ελλάδα) Español (España, Alfabetización Internacional) Suomi (Suomi) Français (France) עברית (ישראל) Magyar (Magyarország) Italiano (Italia) 日本語 (日本) 한국어(대한민국) Norsk Bokmål (Norge) Nederlands (Nederland) Português (Brasil) Polski (Polska) Română (România) Türkçe (Türkiye) Svenska (Sverige) 中文(香港特別行政區) ไทย (ไทย) Tiếng Việt (Việt Nam) English (United Kingdom) Français (Canada) Español (México) English (Canada) English (Australia) Português (Portugal) 中文(中国) 中文(台灣) Additional terms Xbox Live code of conduct Netflix privacy policy Terms of transaction Netflix license terms By downloading this application you agree to the Netflix Terms of Use and Privacy Policy, located at Internet access and valid payment method are required. Your Netflix membership is a month-to-month subscription that you can cancel at any time. Go to "Your Account" on the Netflix website for cancellation instructions. No refund or credit for partial monthly subscription periods. The Netflix service is only available in the country where you originally signed up. A device that streams from Netflix (manufactured and sold separately) and broadband Internet connection are required to watch instantly. For complete terms and conditions, please visit. Report this product Report this app to Microsoft Thanks for reporting your concern. Our team will review it and, if necessary, take action. Sign in to report this app to Microsoft.

Windows on the world watch full length 2. We have detected some adult content on the image you uploaded, therefore we have declined your upload process. Its blindingly obvious that co2 is not going to cause runaway global warming. In fact the opposite has occurred. Where do they think all the co2 was before it was trapped in fossil fuels below ground. It was in the atmosphere of course along with all the carbon you can see trapped in the chalk of the White Cliffs of Dover, clays, shales, sedimentary and carbonate rocks and much more. CO2 is a very common gas around the wider universe and scientists are even able to identify it in large quantities on exo planets outside our solar system by observing the light spectrum of these planets. Our planet was born with at least 20% CO2 in the atmosphere and possibly as much as 50. The content has been falling ever since due to a sequestering of co2 from the atmosphere and reached critically low levels at the last glacial maximum. There are 400 parts per million of co2 in the atmosphere. This means that in any column of air 1 kilometre high there are 400mm of co2. As the contribution of humans to this total is just 2% that would mean only 8mm of co2 in any 1 km column of air is our fault roughly equivalent to 1mm per billion people. The extent of the layer of air in the atmosphere is no more than 30km. Therefore in any column of atmosphere 30km high the anthropogenic co2 would amount to a tiny 8mm x 30km = 240mm. This is not going to warm the planet especially as the co2 does not coagulate together to form a heat trapping barrier but is sprinkled evenly throughout the atmosphere. This would mean that this negligible barrier would have to be more effective than a thermos flask which we all know is unable to prevent the heat from boiling water escape into space overnight. This level of co2 is sprinkled so thinly through the atmosphere that any heating rising into space could easily escape through the gaps. Australia sometime ago promised to reduce their co2 emissions by 5. Australias contribution to the world total of anthropogenic co2 is 1. If everyone died in Australia and the whole place shut down forever the amount of anthropogenic co2 in any 30km column of air would eventually reduce from 240mm to 237.5mm. Even if you accept IPCC methods of calculating the effect on temperature, shutting down the whole of Australia is going to reduce the global temp by about 1 thousandth of a degree in 30 years. Why does the natural co2 not cause any harm? The naturally produced co2 in the atmosphere would = 392mm x 30km=1176mm (11.76 metres) of none anthropogenic co2. According to the alarmists this bit is perfectly fine whereas the 240mm of anthropogenic co2 will cause a global catastrophe. This does not make sense.

I really hope that the man wearing the bullet vest got out. Let's be honest. The average punter doesn't have a clue about any of this. Just mention UN Agenda 21 and count the responses you get when you ask 10 people. Windows on the world watch full length free. The truth is the buildings were old. and the style of architecture was outdated. it looked like it was from the 80's not to mention they were filled w asbestos which was outlawed. they HAD to bring these buildings down but they staged a terrorist attack to do it. they couldn't afford dismantling it from the top. they also couldn't legally demolish it because the asbestos. So they staged an attack so they could have newer architecture and make money off the insurance at the same time. perfect crime. it was done by Zionists w the help of the Mossad. Bush and Bin Laden did business for years. the problem is ppl don't do research and still think it was Islamic terror. the soldiers who went to fight the war alot all said they had no idea why they were there. they didn't even have basic technology let alone pulling off something like this that would take lots of technology and professionals. there were no terrorists.

Windows on the world watch full length video. Bishop Williamson! Why cant you say it? Why on Earth cant you see and admit it? fFrancis is not the Pope but antipope! Your opinion is of no value when it is not in line with the teaching of the Catholic Church! You are sadly, a heretic! Please see also Most Holy Family Monastery! This is critical. Please Pray for the conversion of everybody. Book 1 of The HEL Jumper [f. p. n. Previous] p. Book 2] f. Next] n] Thanks to Tulip, Big_Papa_Dakky, Mr_Polygon, txgunman65, Mamish, Vikairious, Sam Berry, ClarityAndVision, RedHawkdude, KillTech, LilLaussa, and 24 others currently supporting me on patreon. Alice. MacGregor got her attention, waiting to see how the situation would unfold. She seemed to understand his concerns. Asha and Zolta looked on quietly with curious expressions. "Russell is here too. I'll be alright. I think it's best we show some trust, all things considered. I'll call for you when you come up. She proposed, trying desperately to tamp down the swarm of butterflies in her chest and stomach while maintaining a composed outward appearance. "All the same I hope I don't come up. Center of attention seems to get knives thrown at em. Lachlan reasoned. Alice chuckled shortly. "I presume you'll be wanting a place to sleep. Ah that's a fair point, lass. You go on then. I'll be here with these three furry companions. he offered. "Yeah, alright then. Alice agreed, turning her back to the shuttle and staring at the gates as she murmured to herself. "I'll just go meet with the council of raptor cats that love my brother like. a brother and could probably kill me with their toes. No sweat. What could go wrong? No, let's not answer that…" Alice's private musings lasted the short trip to where her brother stood before the priests of the village, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust as she walked along the narrow strip of non-irrigated land. The little cub Russell had been tending took flight at seeing so many authority figures at once, leading his mother on a short chase past Alice and towards the shuttle, where MacGregor sat himself in the dirt and attempted to offer the little tyke a relatively nonthreatening option. Between the Marine, Veera, Zolta, and Asha, he was soon corralled and playing with Lachlan's impressive moustache, giving his mother a chance to catch up with him. The assembled priests all watched the proceedings closely while Russell shared a moment with his sister. "You good. He asked simply, feeling as close to her as hed ever been. “Ready to be a part of whatever all this is? ” "Yeah, I'll be alright. she assured him, taking solace in his presence. "This is literally everything I've ever dreamed of, since first contact at least. Then I'll be at the shuttle if you need me. Io, is she good for translation. Yes sir, we're in the clear. the AI assured him excitedly, projecting herself in an outfit to match Alices as a sign of solidarity. It only lasted a instant however, the AI picking up on Russells attitude and insistence that this be Alices time. "Thanks, Io. Good luck sis. Love you, bro. Alice whispered, giving him a quick hug. He'd never been the over the shoulder type, but he'd been looking out for her from afar since they were teens. Her courage was bolstered as he turned from the gates, making it clear to the Cauthan that they should deal with his sister independently. "Yeah, you too, ” he called over his shoulder. “Don't keep them waiting. Ratha's a bitch but the rest are good people. Hell even she is, I guess. With that confusing statement Russell walked off, letting Alice initiate her own entrance to village life as the swell of chatter and gossip grew behind the line of priests. Alice focused on the one that she knew, approaching Antoth and bowing politely. "Hmph, I guess this one has some manners. Ratha muttered, earning herself Antoth's hand, and claws, on her shoulder. The towering Cauthan spoke diplomatically while he reined in his mate as tactfully as possible given the situation. "Alice Winters, I have presented the treaty with your people to my fellows here. We are tasked with the burden of guiding our people. And while there is understandable nervousness among us…" Antoth held up a hand as Alice made to speak. "We are cautiously optimistic that your presence will be beneficial to our village. There is much in this document that is…subject to interpretation. We open our gates to you as a gesture of goodwill and as an expectation that our kindness shall be returned. I. I see. Thank you all for your consideration. Alice spoke clearly, allowing her A-MACS to translate for her. Relief spread through her as most of the Cauthan present nodded or ruffled their feathers in a similar fashion to what she'd seen from Veera once things had calmed on the Event Horizon. "My name is Alice Winters and it's an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Russell's older sister. Has he always been such an insufferable human. Ratha demanded haughtily, resting a hand on her hip as her mate growled quietly. "Oh shut it, Antoth. You let him hug me. Would it surprise you to learn that he likes you more than most humans. Alice asked nervously, watching as the elderly couple among the priests smiled widely and nodded to one another, their graying fur and slightly drooping jowls shifting to display what Alice hoped was humor and favor. That theory of cultural evolutionary convergence was already churning in her head at their subtle movements. Ratha did not seem pleased with her answer. "Why me. Ratha demanded of the sky, tilting her head to regard the clouds above. "You've become dramatic now that you're with dramatic. Antoth declared, swiftly moving his hand from Ratha's shoulder to her belt. "This is not a hunt, my mate. It is diplomacy. Keep your knife at your side and give this one a chance. She tore into Winters when he asked about her courtship. You would have approved. Now introduce yourself and do not dishonor our word. Alice watched cautiously, playing with the sleeve of her jumpsuit as Ratha simmered in silent frustration. To her marginal relief it seemed more directed at Antoth than her. Eventually Ratha shoved his hand away from her knife and stared Alice down. "My name is Ratha, servant of Valta and mate of the priest of as he is. she simpered with a coy glance Antoth's way. "So long as you respect the authority of the Huntress and don't go on any crazed hunts like and I will not have problems. Alice nodded, knowing that said brother would absolutely escalate the situation if he were her. She opted to tilt her head deferentially instead, hoping to placate the grumpiest of the priests. "I should like to learn of Valta and your traditions; if you have time, of course. she offered. Ratha looked her over keenly, as if searching for deception or weakness. Alice was reminded of a hawk. "Maybe later. was all she would say on the matter, feeling the eyes of her fellows, her people, and Winters upon her. "Let's get on with this already. Seil is annoyingly warm today. Well if you would stop acting like she's her brother we'd be done by now. Staroth boomed, stepping forward as Ratha shot him a death glare. "Alice Winters, it's a pleasure to meet you. Name's Staroth, village Guardian. Your brother was welcome among us under Antoth, and he remains so now that I've taken up the mantle of Uthos. You're welcome in the barracks at any time. If youre his kin, theres a place for you. Alice glanced around in stunned silence, temporarily shaken by the abrupt reversal in mood. "I…thank you very much, Staroth. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that my brother found his way into your world, should I? Can I ask you a question. Alice ventured, sensing an ease and casual friendliness about the Guardian that she did not feel around the impenetrable bulwark that was Antoth. "Yeah, course! That's why you're here isn't it? You dont seem like the conquering type. Staroth laughed before turning on his heel with surprising speed. "Gael, Rakis, save it for the festival you stone for brains! Pardon me, Alice. You didn't hear that, did you. Uhh…I'm sorry. Alice responded with a shrug, guessing that her hearing, the language barrier, or both had led to her missing something. Staroth shook his head like a father watching his sons do something incredibly stupid that he nevertheless intended to allow them to see through. "Nah, probably for the best. Bunch of young boys with mating on the brain, wanting to know if your fur is soft. I'll drill them hard tonight, dont you fret. So Alice, you had a question. Staroth continued, seemingly unconcerned with most anything. "Yes, actually. Is there a prescribed manner in which a female should greet a male in public? I wouldn't want to offend you and I wasn't sure if it would be proper to shake your hand. Alice explained her hesitation. Staroth brought his hand to his chin as Gentia chuckled and cooed about 'how polite the sister was. Well you don't really have feathers, do you? All that fur up top, can you move it. Staroth asked curiously. Alice laughed and shook her head back and forth, kicking her loosely tied ponytail about. A handful of Cauthan behind them spoke animatedly about the length of Alices black mane of hair. "No sir, not intentionally. Ha! Don't ever call me sir again. Reminds me of being old. So show me a handshake then, eh? Don't think I've ever done such a thing with your brother. He enjoys scale bashing far too much. The guard said with overbearing friendliness. Alice held out her hand, palm rotated slightly upward. Staroth measured her closely for a moment, eventually holding out his own paw and looking Alice in the eye for confirmation. He was only a couple inches taller than her and his brown eyes were quite amicable. She nodded, prompting the captain to turn his head and regard two of his younger charges. "Ha ha. Uproarious joviality rose from the assembled guardsmen as Staroth took Alice's hand in a strong shake, the two of them squeezing harder until a firm pressure was established and the gesture explained. Alice flashed her teeth in a wide smile as her brother laughed from a distance. "A pleasure to meet you, Staroth. I will certainly be taking you up on that offer to visit the barracks and learn more about your ways. You let go of her this instant, you lech. A female Cauthan called from the crowd. "Now now, fluff of my life, I'm just conducting diplomacy with this human. Staroth called with overemphasized innocence. "Diplomacy my tail! I know she's female. Did I mention I love my mate very much? Go on now, Alice. I'm sure we'll meet again. Staroth encouraged, incapable of fearing a smooth and soft being like a female human when he had arms and armor. The male that Alice had brought with her was another story, but he'd deal with that later. The next priest stepped forward. "I guess it's my turn then? A pleasure to meet you, Alice. I can see you've already met one of my charges. Alice took a couple paces down the line from Staroth to greet an elegant, blonde furred Cauthan who reminded her of an ermine. She had radiant blue eyes and sandy colored feathers, and was dressed easily the best of all the assembled priests. Unlike most of her fellow villagers who wore leather or fur, the Cauthan before her sported a fetching woven garment that Alice assumed was made of some sort of plant fiber. She'd not seen any animals that could be sheared since landing. The dress was not particularly detailed, but the dull white fabric was expertly tailored to her body. It lent the priestess an air of sophistication that was rather unique. "My name is Alyra, and I serve the Twins. It's a pleasure to meet you, Alyra. I love your dress; it's quite beautiful. So Asha is one of yours? I've only seen a dress like that on her so far. Alice deduced, holding out her hand tentatively to the other female. "Hmm, a keen eye on you as well? We'll have to have you stop by sometime and change out of is. Alyra turned up her nose at Alice's jumpsuit, marveling at how the human's cheeks suddenly flushed red. "Look we all have to wear them on board the ship, alright. Alice muttered, still awkwardly holding out her hand as her outfit was scrutinized. Alyra waved her off. "Well you're not on Is that it? You're not there anymore, are you. Alyra insisted, using the closest word she had. "So there. We'll have you looking the part in no time. Oh, and save your hand for the males. You have no feathers but there's nothing preventing us from using the customary human greeting your brother partakes in. Wait, he does wha. Alice yelped as Alyra stepped forward and embraced her, eliciting a hoot from Staroth as she tried to figure out how much of the Cauthan she was allowed to touch. In the end Alice opted to not rock the boat any further, gently applying pressure with her arms to Alyra's upper back. She signified that she accepted the hug, while indulging in the brief contact of the priestess' fur on her cheek. "Is something the matter, Alice? You appear to be changing colors. Alyra observed with genuine concern as Alices blush deepened. The human shook her head vigorously, wondering how to explain a flush of the cheek to an alien with no visible cheeks to flush. 'If I may, my friends. Io suddenly cut in, appearing at Alice's wrist. 'If she had feathers it would look something like this, Alyra. The Cauthan and human watched closely as Io shifted forms and waved the feathers of her avatar in a pattern that implied both embarrassment and excitement. "Ah, I see now. How very strange. And yet here I am wishing I could change my fur color. Alyra replied animatedly. "I do apologize, Alice. You just have no tail for that matter. The human smiled bashfully as Alyra flicked her slim, white tipped tail back and forth for emphasis. "That's quite alright. I was just surprised to be greeted in such a friendly manner! And why don't you just dye your fur. Alice suggested. "Surely you have pigments. Oh Alice, you do not want that fat, oil, and dirt all over your fur. You'd look a mess. The Twins might enjoy such a scene though. Alyra considered with a twinkle in her eyes. "And who are the Twins, if I may ask. Eiur and Auril, the two moons that scamper about the night skies and play among the stars. They are tricksters and patrons of the arts. Alyra explained, bringing a claw to her chin. "Now Alice, what is with that look, hmm? You have so many little movements on your face it's hard to keep track of. They like pranks and tricks. Alice asked eagerly. "Why, did you have something in mind. Alyra whispered with a flaring of her feathers. Alice leaned closer with her suggestion. "You find me something that looks better than this accursed jumpsuit and I'll see what I can do about changing your fur color! Temporarily of course. You jest. Maybe. Alice replied coyly, hopping back a pace and standing fully upright. Her guts were practically turning inside out with nerves. I dont want to overstep anything, but theyre all so friendly! Maybe not. Wouldn't want to offend the Twins by being so blunt. Alice ventured. "Sorry, Antoth. Oh brother, she's got you dead to rights. The burly Cauthan who had been waiting patiently next to Alyra finally piped up, reaching to clap Antoth on the shoulder. "I think the two of you ladies have had enough fun; and unlike your brother you'll probably be making more visits to Alyra's temple than mine. Name's Nerazek, forge master and high priest of Tyrdus, the Smith. We're the ones who make all the useful things around town. Zolta's master added with a terribly unsubtle look at Alyra. The priestess took it in stride. "Were it not for our trading you would have no metal to work with, Nerazek. Try not to get too big for your scales now. Big words from the pretty girl. he laughed. "I am a pretty girl. Alyra agreed, holding her head high and preening her feathers. Alice nodded with wide eyes, hoping not to offend anyone as she injected herself into what sounded like playful inter-temple banter. The details would have to be teased out at a later time. "I think you're quite pretty. she whispered. "See, forge master? The human agrees. And how many times has her brother stepped foot in your temple, hmm. Nerazek countered. "That's what I thought! Alice, pleasure to meet you and if you need anything fixed up, carved, forged or otherwise made, my temple's the place to go. You pay in metal like that. he proposed, pointing to the shuttle. "And we won't have any problems at all. Ah. I'm a bit short on Grizzly class shuttles at the moment and I don't think pilot Cromwell is selling hers. Do you accept other payment. Alice requested with a warm tone. "Anything of value. The forge master assured her. She nodded and held her hand out, analysis continuing within her mind. So a barter system. Then I look forward to visiting your temple. Quite so! Yes I believe we should do this shaking thing. Alyra has a mind of her own. We are both female. There is no problem. the priestess insisted. "Yeah yeah, as you say. And don't worry Alice, the scales don't hurt. Nerazek chortled as she took his hand. Alice hadn't considered it much in her interactions with Staroth or Antoth, but she took some time to get acquainted with the fine, small scales on the top of the smith's paw and fingers. Many of them were actually smoother than his calloused pads, and they blended seamlessly with the fine fur on the sides and bottoms of his digits. Oh I could spend a day just looking at their hands! Alice exclaimed internally. Ok that's really weird now that I say it out loud…well not really out loud. Anyway, time to meet the last two. You're almost there, Alice! No, they don't. Thank you for the kind welcome, sir. Alice concluded. "It's my pleasure. Welcome to our village. And watch out for her. Nerazek insisted, pointing not to Alyra, as Alice expected, but to the short, elderly female next to him. He received a whap of her cane to the back of his leg in reply. "See what I mean. Don't listen to him, dear. He's breathed in too many fumes at that forge lately. My name is Gentia. I serve Meylith, the Mother and patron of hearth and home. It is so good to meet you. Could you ask your brother to come here a moment, please. Alice was briefly taken aback by the elder's request but she certainly wasn't about to deny something so reasonable. "Hey Russell, Gentia wants to speak to you. She called, watching as her armored sibling shrugged his shoulders and ambled over. "What's going on Genti- hey! Cut that out. He ordered as Gentia lit into him with her walking stick the moment he was in range. "And when were you planning on telling me about your family, hmm? About this wonderful sister of yours who's polite and easy to look at. Gentia demanded, the customary light in her eyes as Alice utterly failed at keeping her mirth contained within her chest. "Mercy for my brother, please! He was never trained to fight off angry old women with canes. Hmph, if you insist young one. Go on now, Winters. You go play while I speak with your sister. Gentia advised happily as though she'd not just assaulted him. He looked down at her seriously. "You're gonna need a longer cane next time. he advised before tearing off for the shuttle and out of Gentia's range. The old priestess looked up at Alice "He's a good lad, saved many lives. Hers most of all. Gentia told the human as she pointed at Veera. The weight of emotion in Gentia's voice was such that the smile was wiped from Alice's face, leaving her to contemplate the many unknowns in the tale of her brother and his mate. "You will be welcome in my temple as his family, and I hope you can aid us as he has. We aren't out of the woods yet, so to speak. Is there something you need help with. Alice asked, opening her hands in offering. "Another time, my dear. That sort of talk is not for such an occasion. This should be a festive moment. Yes, well in that case thank you very much for meeting me. The sun is not too bad? We could move into the shade or. Oh perish the thought, dear. Felen has blessed us with ample clouds today and neither my mate nor I are pregnant. Gentia…" Ratha growled. "Meylith bless you, Ratha. You have yet to visit me regarding your cub. Gentia raised her voice, completing the image in Alice's mind of a pint sized midwife with a full sized attitude. "I'm fine. This cycle or I'll come visit you and make sure Antoth watches. Gentia sang, her words spurring Ratha to face Antoth and slam her fist against his solid chest. "You did this to me. She screeched before kissing Antoth the way only she could, leaving Alice rooted to the spot and Antoth looking at his wife with exasperation. "Ratha. I said hello. I'll kill her if she hurts anyone. I'm going home. The Huntress declared, spinning on her heel and departing the gate. No one dared block her path. "She will be a wonderful mother someday. Gentia declared, watching as Ratha's proud tail finally disappeared past the crowds. "I'll take you word for it. You've probably seen many more mothers than I have. Alice said. "Such is my joy and my duty. Gentia agreed, hugging Alice briefly around the waist due to her short stature. "One that I share with my mate. Thantis. Oh, of course, yes. Why I remember just under a year ago speaking with your brother at this very gate. the wizened priest informed her, gazing up into the skies. "Who are you, I asked him. Where did you come from? What is your purpose? Ah, so many questions there were and so many left unanswered. But I am forever grateful to have seen him in my twilight years. Such a momentous end to a long life. Oh stop it, you. We have many years left. Gentia insisted with love in her voice born of decades shared. "Now introduce yourself, priest of Kel. Indeed! Where are my manners? I do apologize. Thantis said, suddenly aware and alert instead of wistful and distant. He adjusted his cane and looked up at Alice. "Miss Alice, my name is Thantis. I serve Kel, lord of winter, death, knowledge, and He who keeps the balance. It is a pleasure to meet you. You're him, the death priest. Alice demanded excitedly as she extended her hand, shaking Thantis' gently. "My brother told me you're a scholar and keeper of knowledge. I am too! Will you teach me of you people and history. Well what do you know? She likes you best. Gentia provided with a smirk. "I do have one condition technically two. Thantis replied warmly, taking a moment to contemplate her hand in his palm. "On second thought, can I make it three. Start with one, my love. Gentia advised with a flutter of her aging feathers. "Sure, Thantis. Give and take right. Alice suggested in reply. The priests assembled nodded in agreement. The human didn't miss the gesture. "Yes well, first could I study your hand. Thantis requested. Gentia tittered delightfully while Antoth groaned and wondered how introductions had somehow turned into anatomy lessons. He blamed their familiarity with Alice's brother and her similarities to him. "Sure. Humans are quite comfortable with such things. What else. Will you join me for tea so that I might finally satisfy my curiosity with yptians of yours? Is that the word? I wrote it down somewhere… "Gods with animal heads, mummification, stone tombs. Alice asked, wondering if she's heard right. The upturn of Thantis' lips made it clear she had. "Yes yes, that's them. He exclaimed. Alice beamed at him. "I'd love to, Thantis. Just wait until you hear about the Greeks. And the last. She inquired, her brows furrowing as Thantis suddenly adopted a serious expression and posture. "I would ask that you make an effort to befriend my young apprentice. Much light has been stolen from his life. I hope that new knowledge might rekindle it. I…" Alice paused, looking left to Antoth and the others. All of them seemed to understand what Thantis was speaking of. "I am here to learn and to listen. I would be happy to speak with him. she agreed, feeling a cool breeze pass over her head as a cloud rolled past the sun above. "Then you have my thanks. Please visit soon! We are at the other end of the village by the east gate. the death priest explained. "Oh Ratha, I thought you were leaving us. Yeah I forgot something. the Huntress replied without care. "You lot seem done, finally. Antoth, where the heck are you going to put her. We were just getting to that. Antoth said accusingly. "Which you would know if you'd not stomped off. Alice, if you could summon your companion please? We must discuss your lodgings so long as none among us have objections. A moment if you would. Staroth requested, much to Antoth's surprise. The sun priest quickly hummed in understanding once the Guardian explained himself. "Alice, can we trust the other human? The warrior, who is he to you. Alice had anticipated such a question. She didn't hold the weapons. "He's a dear friend and someone who volunteered to come down here with me to keep me safe and assist with my work. We promised your people protection in the treaty. You can consider him a first line of defense, so to speak. His armor has the ability to communicate with our home ship high above us, and he's well trained in the art of war. Most importantly, I've been around him for about half a year now and I've never known him to be anything but a kind man with a strong sense of duty. I guess he's a bit like my brother in that way, but with less edge. Good, I almost cut myself on Winters. Ratha chuckled under her breath. "Satisfied, Staroth. I'd like him to train with my men at some point, get him used to them if he's going to fight with us. But yes, regarding admittance to the village I am in favor. Alice, if you would. With greetings completed and her mind positively humming with ideas, Alice turned and walked over to the shuttle, briefly explaining to Lachlan and the others what had been discussed to that point. The Scotsman, eager to show a comforting side to the villagers, stood with Sentaura's son in his arms. He let the young, curious boy continue to tap against his armor and run his claws along the ballistic fiber protecting his joints. "You're a curious little guy, aren't ye. He asked as the cubs mother followed at his side. 'You will find that curiosity is a defining trait of the species at large. Io opined using their various earpieces. 'Splendid job so far, Alice. You've gotten into none of the fights your brother did on his first day. Io, you can't just dangle that out in front of us and not deliver. Alice insisted hotly as the young Cauthan noticed her hair and reached for it instead, pulling on her ponytail and forcing Alice to suddenly bump into Lachlan or suffer. "Oh no no no no! Please stop, little guy. Woah, hey there young man! Ya can't be touching a lass like that. You gotta be gentle with beautiful things. the Marine insisted, slowly prying the Cauthans fingers away from Alices hair. "Oh stow it, Lachlan! They already saw me blushing. She squealed. "Begging your pardon, Alice. the Marine winked at her as Sentaura reprimanded her son. "Ursol, what have I told you about feathers. She asked in a stern voice. t pull. Little Ursol replied. "That's right, sweetheart. This human's fur is like feathers. Do you understand. So…no pull fur. Very good. his mother praised him as he refocused on Lachlan's equipment. The Marine met her eyes. "He's a wee, sharp lad, isn't he. He gets it from his father. was all she would say. Their time was up anyway, with Lachlan suddenly feeling sweat on the back of his neck as every Cauthan high priest scrutinized him as he held one of their treasured young. o' the morning to y'all! It is morning 't it. He asked, gauging the position of the star above. "Afternoon. Antoth clarified. "Huh, well is that right. Another time, Private. We must discuss where you two will be staying when you are with us. There are some complications that must be considered. the sun priest continued. "Last winter our village suffered fire. I'm sorry to hear that. Alice replied without inquiring further. Antoth nodded curtly her way. "Thank you. As things stand several families remain without homes, and others have had to relocate to…" The blockhouses. They're poor now. It sucks. At least we have enough food. Just get on with it. Ratha urged with acid in her voice. "I suppose my mate is right. It's not like we can hide the situation and perhaps you humans will have a solution? In any case, I cannot in good conscience place you in one of the newly constructed homes in the temple district while my own people still recover. I don't think that's a problem. Alice offered tentatively. "I'm sure that anywhere you have available will be more than enough. I can request any furnishings or gear I need from the Event Horizon. Same with Lachlan. When the Marine bobbed his head in affirmation of Alice's perspective, Antoth bowed to them both. "Meylith forgive me for treating you in such a way but thank you, Alice. There is a single unit available in the blockhouses. It was built for one, and rests adjacent to the east gate. Thantis and Gentia have their temples just to the south and the young couple you already met, Zolta and Asha, live in that quarter. I will personally ensure that you have what you need to remain here comfortably. Well that's mighty kind of ye, Antoth. Thank you. What is it. Lachlan asked as many eyes suddenly turned his way with suspicion. "Are you mated to Alice, young man. Gentia asked like a cat eyeing a canary. "No, no I'm not. the Marine replied unconcernedly, wondering where the conversation was headed as Alice mouthed 'I'm sorry' at him. "Then I'm afraid we must insist that you stay elsewhere. Gentia informed him. "It would be most improper for a man and woman, unmated, to share a roof and bed in such a way. Neither Lachlan nor Alice were about to argue with Gentia on that point. Such customs were not so alien to human history and they both knew well that breaking taboo around relationships was not something that would behoove them on their first day. Instead the humans looked at one another curiously, questioning silently what they were going to do. There didn't seem to be room at the inn. "Then he will stay with me. Sentaura, I forbid it. Ratha replied strongly. "Such a thing is. Ratha. the hunter's widow stopped her. "You have done more for me and my son than I can ever repay you for. Nonsense! I know you're working the fields this year. You shouldn't! I take care of my own. The Huntress insisted. Sentaura waved her feathers in understanding but carried on politely. "That home is too large for just a female and cub. It would dishonor me and Lady Meylith if such space were wasted. But. Sentaura looked sadly at the forest. "I have had my time, Ratha. I knew love, courtship, motherhood. I was bonded in the sight of the Mother. I am not like this young human maiden, and he and I are not even of the same species. There is no shame in what I have suggested. If they are here to help us then let me help them. Ratha looked first to her husband, then to Gentia. Her face was contorted in worry and sorrow. don't have to do this. I know, Huntress. It would be an honor to aid our people in such a way. High priest, please allow this human to stay with us. Antoth, you cannot! Look at what Winters did to Veera. that concern for the 'mutt' I heard in your voice. Antoth growled pleasingly, his voice like velvet. "You are a vile, unrepentant. Father of your. Antoth cut her off softly. "Ratha, there is no suitable alternative. What else would you have me do? Have him sleep with the shen? Sentaura remains mated in the eyes of the goddess until she chooses otherwise. We stand to gain from their presence here. When more homes are rebuilt this will not be an issue. Outnumbered and failing, Ratha approached the wife of one of her missing and took her by the shoulders. "He touches you, even one feather, you come to me. Understand. She pleaded. "As you say, Huntress. Thank you for this chance to serve the village. With that Ratha made for her temple, unwilling and unable to play at diplomacy and tact any longer. Antoth sighed as she left but refused to speak poorly of his mate outside of her presence. "I suppose that settles it then. Private MacGregor, is this arrangement suitable to you? I know you humans are a bit more. flexible regarding the mixing of the sexes. MacGregor took a moment to regard the tyke in his arms as well as his mother. “If thats the arrangement you all think is best, Ill be lodging no complaints. Just try and go easy on my moustache, would ya little guy? ” “Stache! Strache! ” Ursol repeated the word, reaching for the Marines facial hair again. “No no, dear. We do not use our claws with friends. Fingers only for touching and only in good places. Do you understand me? ” Sentaura scolded him politely. “Yes mamma! ” “Well would ya look at him? Well behaved lad and speakin English already! Gotta say Alice, I like these aliens a bit bettern the Ghaelen. Dont tell yer buddy I said so, ” Mac made a show of sharing secrets to try to break the tension. “Miss Sentaura, I thank ya kindly for your hospitality. ” “Mmm, resolution at last, ” Antoth murmured. “Any further concerns? ” He demanded of his fellows. When there were none the various priests bowed and returned to the village, resulting in the dispersal of the crowd as word immediately began to skip from lip to lip about the newest aliens who had come in peace. Each spiritual leader soon found themselves surrounded by curious villagers. “Kaha, if you would? ” “You have need of me, sir? ” The sun guard called, marching up to Antoth from where hed been standing amongst the people of the village. “I do. Kaha this is Alice, the sister of Winters. Well technically they are both Winters, but I know you refer to him in that manner. This other human you wouldnt mind, Private? ” Antoth requested. “Lachlan MacGregor, at your service. Thats some fine armor youve got yerself there, ” the Scotsman greeted Kaha, looking over the finely crafted ornamental fixtures on the sun guard's mostly leather armor. “I know not what to say about yours, human. I suspect it will prove more durable than mine. What orders, Antoth? ” “Please assist Miss Winters with any belongings or equipment that she needs carried. We will be allowing her to stay in the open room near the eastern gate, ” Antoth explained. “Of course, sir! Alice Winters are you finished here? ” Kaha requested, eager to be of service to a sun priest who, by and large, was the complete opposite of Vash and sought to do everything himself. “Yes. Its a pleasure to meet you, Kaha. Let me show you to my things. It should only be a comms array or two…” As the human woman and strapping Cauthan sun guard walked off to the shuttle, Lachlan finally handed Ursol over to his mother. “Would ya give me just a moment, please? ” He requested. She flared her feathers and responded affirmatively. “Thank you, miss. Antoth, Ill be informing the Admiral of the situation down here. Hell probably be wanting to set up a shuttle and orbital schedule once he knows were settled in and not in any trouble. ” “I will request that Alice explain what you just said to me at a later time, ” Antoth replied with a hint of annoyance. “Sentaura, please come find Ratha or myself if there are any issues at all. In the meantime Im sure half the Cauthan in the village wish to speak with me. Good day to you, Private. ” “ you, Antoth! ” Mac called after him, more than a bit stunned to have been left at the gates with what amounted to an open invitation. He shrugged his shoulders and activated the link between his armor and the bridge of the Event Horizon. “Admiral, are ye there? ” A loud yawn greeted him. “Im sure it must be quite exciting down there, but do you have any idea what time it is up here? ” Kaczynski requested. “What news, Private? ” “Sir, Alice and I have secured a place to stay and admittance to the village. Quaint little thing it is. Well be settin up comms and then taking a nap if its all the same ta you? Im sure well need a couple things from the fabricators here and there but thatll take a bit of time ta tease out. ” “Hmm, very good. And the First Lieutenant? ” Natori inquired seriously. “He looks right as rain now that hes back planetside, sir. ” “I see, ” was all Natori had to say on the matter. “Very well, Private. In order to lessen the draws on the drive core we will establish an orbital period of five hours and fifteen minutes or so. That should ensure a shuttle window of close to an hour four times per Maran day. As you establish yourselves down there we can adjust as needed. We have already set up an orbital communications relay system, so you should be able to reach us no matter where we are relative to the village. Oh, and do send pilot Cromwell back up when youre done, would you? She could use a rest most of all, I presume. ” “Aye aye, sir. Ill be doin that posthaste. Wouldn't want her usin more than one stim patch. Thank ya again for this opportunity. The locals have been real friendly, sir. ” “Thats wonderful to hear, Private. We shall speak again soon. Kaczynski out. ” Having touched base with the Event Horizon, MacGregor turned and held up a gloved finger, spinning it a couple times so that Cromwell knew she could start preparing for her ascent. Russell and Veera had already unloaded the spare components and batteries for Ios operation as well as much of the electronic gear brought by Alice. That left his couple of duffels and bedroll. “Miss Sentaura, do ya think you could be showin me to your home? I…” Mac had to take a pause to yawn prominently into the back of his hand. His helmets optics indicated it was almost four in the morning aboard the ship. “As ya can see its been a while since I last slept. ” When his words were translated, Ursol looked curiously at his mother, wondering if he understood the situation. At the age of four, the idea of an entertaining individual like MacGregor staying over at home was quite intriguing. The boys mother signaled with her feathers again, hoping that with time their new guests might pick up on Cauthan habits. “Of course. Do gather your things and Ill show you the way. And what shall I call you, human? ” “Lachlan is just fine, miss. ” “I see. Very well, Lachlan, ” Sentaura replied, her soft accent flowing around his name like a stream. “Welcome to our village. ”. Previous] p. First] f. Next] n. Patreon] y. Own The HEL Jumper: Survive in the format of your choice: hardcover. paperback. epub. Amazon Kindle.

”I am not blind, nor deaf. I know that you all believe me weak, frightened, feeble. Your father knew me better. Oberyn was ever the viper. Deadly, dangerous, unpredictable. No man dared tread on him. I was the grass. Pleasant, complaisant, sweet-smelling, swaying with every breeze. Who fears to walk upon the grass? But it is the grass that hides the viper from his enemies and shelters him until he strikes. Your father and I worked more closely than you know … but now he is gone. The question is, can I trust his daughters to serve me in his place. A Dance with Dragons – The Watcher Introduction Names like Ser Aerys Oakheart, Princess Arianne Martell, and Ser Balon Swann are foreign to show only watchers but exhibit the lack of effort given to the true Dornish plot of A Song of Ice and Fire. The lowest rated episode by viewers in the television series ‘Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken is titled with the words of House Martell. The Sandsnakes and Dornish were received as shallow and uninspired characters with no relevance. Their true natures and actions are massively underrated and will play a role in The Winds of Winter. I invite you to drop those prior thoughts and dive into the Deeper Dorne and a reeducation of the infamous older four of the eight daughters of Prince Oberyn Martell the Red Viper of Dorne and how they will play their part in events so come. The ruling family of Dorne consist of Prince Doran Martell, his royal consort Mellario of Norvos and their three children, heir Princess Arianne, Prince Quentyn, and Prince Trystane. The Sandsnakes are the 8 daughters of his brother Prince Oberyn who function as supporting characters in the Dornish plot, working under their father, uncle, and cousins to promote Dornish interest unlike the show where they called the shots. Our primary POVs into them are the Captain of Guards in Sunspear, Areo Hotah and a close companion of the Sandsnakes, their cousin Princess Arianne. Hotah studied each of them in turn. Obara, rusted nails and boiled leather, with her angry, close-set eyes and rat-brown hair. Nymeria, languid, elegant, olive-skinned, her long black braid bound up in red-gold wire. Tyene, blue-eyed and blond, a child-woman with her soft hands and little giggles. A Dance with Dragons – The Watcher Dangerous Women Obara Sand Obara. He knew her stride; long-legged, hasty, angry. In the stables by the gates, her horse would be lathered, and bloody from her spurs. She always rode stallions and had been heard to boast that she could master any horse in Dorne. and any man as well. Obara was the eldest Sand Snake, a big-boned woman near to thirty, with the close-set eyes and rat-brown hair of the Oldtown whore who'd birthed her. Obara Sand always walked too fast. She is chasing after something she can never catch, the prince had told his daughter once, in the captain's hearing. Beneath a mottled sandsilk cloak of dun and gold, her riding clothes were old brown leather, worn and supple. They were the softest things about her. On one hip she wore a coiled whip, across her back a round shield of steel and copper. She had left her spear outside. A Feast for Crowns - Captain of the Guards Boisterous and perpetually angry Obara chose the spear over tears at an early age. She is usually the first to act out of her siblings and often does so without much thought beforehand. Obara holds a deep seeded hate for Oldtown, the birthplace of her disgraced mother. Seeking the approval of her father Obara shows true loyalty to only he and her sisters and lacks respect for many others regardless of social rank. Nymeria Sand Nymeria Sand was five-and-twenty, and slender as a willow. Her straight black hair, worn in a long braid bound up with red-gold wire, made a widow's peak above her dark eyes, just as her father's had. With her high cheekbones, full lips, and milk-pale skin, she had all the beauty that her elder sister lacked. but Obara's mother had been an Oldtown whore, whilst Nym was born from the noblest blood of old Volantis. A dozen mounted spearmen tailed her, their round shields gleaming in the sun. They followed her down the dune. A Feast for Crows – Captain of the Guards She wore a gown of yellow silk so sheer and fine that the candles shone right through it to reveal the spun gold and jewels beneath. So immodest was her garb that the white knight seemed uncomfortable looking at her, but Hotah approved. Nymeria was least dangerous when nearly naked. Elsewise she was sure to have a dozen blades concealed about her person. A Dance with Dragons- The Watcher A princess is all but name, Lady Nym is the second eldest and most beautiful of the Sandsnakes. She is known to carry similar lust as her father, enjoying the company women sometimes two at a time. Inheriting Oberyns martials prowess as well, she wields blades all over her person. Calculating and regal, Nymeria commands the most respect of her siblings and is often the mouthpiece for the group. She has a close relationship with House Fowler who controls The Princes Pass, one of the two land passes into Dorne from the north. Tyene Sand She was sitting cross-legged on a pillow beneath the raised dais where the high seats stood, but she rose as they entered, dressed in a clinging gown of pale blue samite with sleeves of Myrish lace that made her look as innocent as the Maid herself. In one hand was a piece of embroidery she had been working on, in the other a pair of golden needles. Her hair was gold as well, and her eyes were deep blue pools. and yet somehow they reminded the captain of her father's eyes, though Oberyn's had been as black as night. All of Prince Oberyn's daughters have his viper eyes, Hotah realized suddenly. The color does not matter. Lady Tyene's voice was gentle, and she looked as sweet as summer strawberries. Her mother had been a septa, and Tyene had an air of almost otherworldly innocence about her. A Feast for Crows – Captain of the Guards ”Sisters, truly, I know the poison Father used. If his spear so much as broke the Mountain's skin, Clegane is dead, I do not care how big he was. Doubt your little sister if you like, but never doubt our sire. Lady Tyene smiled at that. Her soft, pale hands were as deadly as Obara's callused ones, if not more so. He watched her carefully, alert to every little flutter of her fingers. A Dance with Dragons – The Watcher Pious, proper, and poisonous Tyene Sand is the slyest of her sisters. Growing up as best friends with her cousin Princess Arianne, they know better than any the dangerous extent of one anothers allure. They two ladies learned to read together and shared their first man and drink. She always seems to have more information that what she lets on and shares Oberyns mastery of poisons and her mothers education as a septa from The Reach. Tyene maintains an innocent composure but remains as vengeful as her siblings. Sarella Sand My uncle brought me here, with Tyene and Sarella. The memory made Arianne smile. "He caught some vipers and showed Tyene the safest way to milk them for their venom. Sarella turned over rocks, brushed sand off the mosaics, and wanted to know everything there was to know about the people who had lived here. A Feast for Crows – The Queenmaker The prince considered. "Ellaria's girls are too young to be a danger, but there are those who might seek to use them against me. It would be best to keep them safe in hand. Yes, the little ones as well. but first secure Tyene, Nymeria, and Obara. As my prince commands. His heart was troubled. My little princess will mislike this. "What of Sarella? She is a woman grown, almost twenty. Unless she returns to Dorne, there's naught I can do about Sarella save pray that she shows more sense than her sisters. Leave her to her. game. Gather up the others. I shall not sleep until I know that they are safe and under guard. A Feast for Crows – Captain of the Guards How could you tell I was of noble birth. The same way you can tell that I'm half Dornish. The statement was delivered with a smile, in a soft Dornish drawl. A Feast for Crowns – Prologue Many speculate that that acolyte training alongside Samwell Tarly, “Lazy Leo” Tyrell, and Pate the Pigboy is Sarella under a male disguise (ALLERAS backwards. Alleras admits to a half Dornish, half Summer Islander heritage, the same as Sarella Sand. Alleras has great skill in archery as Summer Islanders are renowned for. Alleras has also made a quick friendship with Marwyn the Mage, an archmaster known to possess a Glass Candle and dabble in Dark Magic. Interesting enough, Sarella leaves Dorne during the events of either A Game of Thrones or A Storm of Swords meaning both Oberyn and Doran are aware of the plot and the Dornish have truly been working for some time to influence events in the story. The Four Pillar Theory Some of the tension went out of the prince. Hotah saw him sag back into his chair. He held out his hand, and Princess Arianne moved to his side to hold it. "Tell them, Father. Prince Doran took a jagged breath. "Dorne still has friends at court. Friends who tell us things we were not meant to know. This invitation Cersei sent us is a ruse. Trystane is never meant to reach King's Landing. On the road back, somewhere in the kingswood, Ser Balon's party will be attacked by outlaws, and my son will die. I am asked to court only so that I may witness this attack with my own eyes and thereby absolve the queen of any blame. Oh, and these outlaws? They will be shouting, Halfman, Halfman. as they attack. Ser Balon may even catch a quick glimpse of the Imp, though no one else will. Areo Hotah would not have believed it possible to shock the Sand Snakes. He would have been wrong. A Dance with Dragons – The Watcher The four pillars of Westeros society are the Crown, Military, the Faith, and the Citadel. The Iron Throne controls laws and economy, the military and lieges defend it, the Faith inspires the morality of the realm, and the maesters control information, education, and scientific progress. Prince Doran is aware of the unpredictable nature of his nieces and decides to place each of them in positions to learn these systems from the inside out and spread Dornish influence in each while seeking revenge for the death of their father. All the while Doran is playing every side in the current wars that surround his country. Prince Trystane has been betrothed to Princess Myrcella Baratheon, Princess Arianne has been sent to Storms End to meet with the suspected son of her late aunt Elia, f)Aegon Targaryen, and Prince Quentyn has been dispatched to Meereen to seek a marriage pact to Queen Daenerys Targaryen. Currently Dorne has a hand in nearly every cookie jar of southern politics in Westeros and many of Dorans overcooked plans will start to bear fruit very soon via his children and overzealous nieces. The Crown – Lady Nym The time is not yet come for Dorne to openly defy the Iron Throne, so we must need return Myrcella to her mother, but I will not be accompanying her. That task will be yours, Nymeria. The Lannisters will not like it, no more than they liked it when I sent them Oberyn, but they dare not refuse. We need a voice in council, an ear at court. Be careful, though. King's Landing is a pit of snakes. Lady Nym smiled. "Why, Uncle, I love snakes. A Dance with Dragons – The Watcher The fued between the Reach and Dorne goes back thousands of years from invasions, assassinations, and growing disdain between the two regions igniting with recent events. Although Willas Tyrell found forgiveness for the jousting incident that left him crippled Mace Tyrell has not let it go that Oberyn Martell injured his heir decades prior to the start of the story. Going so far as to having a full fledge meltdown in A Storm of Swords when its announced that the Dornish would be attending Margaerys wedding and now have their own seat on the Small Council. Mace will have a jarring reaction to the bastard daughter of Oberyn taking over the seat on the now Reachmen heavy council. More so because before Kevan Lannister can inform the council members of her arrival he is murdered by Varys so he is currently unaware that she is even coming. The seventh voice would be the Dornishwoman now escorting Myrcella home. The Lady Nym. But no lady, if even half of what Qyburn reports is true. A bastard daughter of the Red Viper, near as notorious as her father and intent on claiming the council seat that Prince Oberyn himself had occupied so briefly. Ser Kevan had not yet seen fit to inform Mace Tyrell of her coming. The Hand, he knew, would not be pleased. The man we need is Littlefinger. Petyr Baelish had a gift for conjuring dragons from the air. A Dance with Dragons – Epilogue However, Lady Nym does not easily forget either and although her fathers paramour Ellaria Sand gives a heartfelt testimonial that peace is what the Sandsnakes should seek to break the wheel of constant violence and vengeance Nymeria is hearing none of it. Ellarias cheeks were wet with tears, her dark eyes shining. Even weeping, she has a strength in her, the captain thought. “Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maiden-hood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end? ” Ellaria Sand laid her hand on the Mountains head. “I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick? ” “What would you have us do, my lady? ” asked the Lady Nym. “Shall we lay down our spears and smile, and forget all the wrongs that have been done to us? When she had gone, Lady Nym said, “I know she loved our father well, but it is plain she never understood him. ” A Dance with Dragons - The Watcher Cersei has recently found a taste for exotic women in Taena Merryweather. Later, following Cerseis arrest Taena runs back to her husbands seat of Longtable and the Queen may be open to having some new allies around her and a reunion with Myrcella could immediately put Lady Nym in her good graces. Luckily Nymeria likes the ladies too. In addition, a meeting between Nymeria Sand and Ser Robert strong is inevitable and would expose the lie that the skull sent to Dorne was not Ser Gregor Clegane's if it's revealed they are one in the same. The Military – Obara Prince Doran raised a hand. His knuckles were as dark as cherries and near as big. "Ser Balon is a guest beneath my roof. He has eaten of my bread and salt. I will not do him harm. No. We will travel to the Water Gardens, where he will hear Myrcella's story and send a raven to his queen. The girl will ask him to hunt down the man who hurt her. If he is the man I judge, Swann will not be able to refuse. Obara, you will lead him to High Hermitage to beard Darkstar in his den. A Dance with Dragons – The Watcher Obara will serve as Prince Dorans muscle carrying out his secret martial pursuits. She wouldnt last in Kingslanding with such an aggressive and uncouth demeanor and must also be sent away from Sunspear because of her current bloodthirst in response to Oberyns murder. Starfall, the seat of House Dayne is the location of various mysteries and developing plots within the story. Namely the mysterious suicide of Ashara Dayne after her alleged lover Ned Stark returns the famed sword Dawn following the Battle at The Tower of Joy, Asharas alleged stillbirth and rumors of mothering Jon Snow, locating the lost young lord Edric who is nicknamed “Ned”, the possibility of another Sword of the Morning from the current generation emerging, and the truth about the assault on Princess Myrcella. Ser Gerald “Darkstar” Dayne is the lord of High Hermitage, a cadet branch of House Dayne further up the Red Mountains. He is the alleged perpetrator in the maiming of Princess Myrcella but Obara, Nymeria, and Tyene all agree that it wasnt him but if so, who was it? Balon Swann, Areo Hotah, and Obara could be walking into an ambush or be forced to change perspectives once he pleads his case. Either way something smells fishy. Areo Hotah has imagined that a time will come when hed cross swords with Arys Oakheart, Balon Swann, and Obara Sand and the possible outcomes of each and yet the three are tasked with working together now. So far 1/3 have already come true. If they all come to pass, can Areo find victory each time and what side will Obara pick. The white knight. The captain frowned. Ser Arys had come to Dorne to attend his own princess, as Areo Hotah had once come with his. Even their names sounded oddly alike: Areo and Arys. Yet there the likeness ended. The captain had left Norvos and its bearded priests, but Ser Arys Oakheart still served the Iron Throne. Hotah had felt a certain sadness whenever he saw the man in the long snowy cloak, the times the prince had sent him down to Sunspear. One day, he sensed, the two of them would fight; on that day Oakheart would die, with the captains longaxe crashing through his skull. A Feast for Crows - Captain of the Guards When she appeared beneath the triple arch, Areo Hotah swung his longaxe sideways to block the way. The head was on a shaft of mountain ash six feet long, so she could not go around. “My lady, no farther. ” His voice was a bass grumble thick with the accents of Norvos. “The prince does not wish to be disturbed. ” She had left her spear outside. For that, Areo Hotah gave thanks. Quick and strong as she was, the woman was no match for him, he knew. but she did not, and he had no wish to see her blood upon the pale pink marble. A Feast for Crows-The Captain of the Guards Ser Balon Swann was taut as a drawn bow, the captain of guards observed. This new white knight was not so tall nor comely as the old one, but he was bigger across the chest, burlier, his arms thick with muscle. His snowy cloak was clasped at the throat by two swans on a silver brooch. One was ivory, the other onyx, and it seemed to Areo Hotah as if the two of them were fighting. The man who wore them looked a fighter too. This one will not die so easy as the other. He will not charge into my axe the way Ser Arys did. He will stand behind his shield and make me come at him. If it came to that, Hotah would be ready. His longaxe was sharp enough to shave with. A Dance with Dragons - The Watcher The Faith – Tyene ”Your mother was a septa. Oberyn once told me that she read to you in the cradle from the Seven-Pointed Star. I want you in King's Landing too, but on the other hill. The Swords and the Stars have been re-formed, and this new High Septon is not the puppet that the others were. Try and get close to him. Why not? White suits my coloring. I look so … pure. A Dance with Dragons – The Watcher As stated by her older sister Lady Nym and Tyene herself, she is the key to getting into the Red Keep and doing damage that no one would see coming. The Sandsnakes have their assassination victims already listed Tywin, Cersei, Jaime, and Tommen. Two targets are present in the capital. Tyene looks young, innocent, and under the guise of religion can get a place at court amongst the growing fanatics who are struggling with nobles for power in the capital. Nym glanced over a shoulder, to where her companions rode a dozen lengths behind. “I was abed with the Fowler twins when the word reached me, ” the captain heard her say. “You know the Fowler words? Let Me Soar! That is all I ask of you. Let me soar, Uncle. I need no mighty host, only one sweet sister. ” “Obara? ” “Tyene. Obara is too loud. Tyene is so sweet and gentle that no man will suspect her. Obara would make Oldtown our fathers funeral pyre, but I am not so greedy. Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywins golden twins, as payment for Elias children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father. ” A Feast for Crows-Captain if the Guards Queen Regent Cersei Lannister attempts to forgo a portion of the crowns depts by foolishly decreeing the resurgence of the Faith Militant under the direction of the corrupt new High Septon, deemed the High Sparrow. This results in her arrest and public humiliation on a confession of accused charges. Following her walk of atonement Cersei is now under 24/7 supervision by the High Sparrows female novices and septas who have access to her bed, food, drink, and whereabouts throughout the Red Keep. A dangerous position to put a poisons expert in. The meal was served by three novices, well-scrubbed girls of good birth between the ages of twelve and sixteen. In their soft white woolens, each seemed more innocent and unworldly than the last, yet the High Septon had insisted that no girl spend more than seven days in the queens service, lest Cersei corrupt her. They tended the queens wardrobe, drew her bath, poured her wine, changed her bedclothes of a morning. One shared the queens bed every night, to ascertain she had no other company; the other two slept in an adjoining chamber with the septa who looked over them. A Dance with Dragons – Epilogue The Citadel – The Sphinx Tell them how wise and good they are. Tell them that Aemon commanded you to put yourself into their hands. Tell them that you have always dreamed that one day you might be allowed to wear the chain and serve the greater good, that service is the highest honor, and obedience the highest virtue. But say nothing of prophecies or dragons, unless you fancy poison in your porridge. Marwyn snatched a stained leather cloak off a peg near the door and tied it tight. "Sphinx, look after this one. I will. Alleras answered, but the archmaester was already gone. They heard his boots stomping down the steps. "I have a confession. Ours was no chance encounter, Sam. The Mage sent me to snatch you up before you spoke to Theobald. He knew that you were coming. How. Alleras nodded at the glass candle. Sam stared at the strange pale flame for a moment, then looked away. Outside the window it was growing dark. A Feast for Crows- Samwell V The wildcard. If Alleras the acolyte at the Citadel is indeed Sarella Sand, Doran Martell has a wide scope of information available to him. Alleras is trusted with Samwell Tarly and a glass candle. Complicating things further, a distance cousin of House Tyrell “Lazy Leo” also is aware of the glass candle and could possibly use it. Though it hasnt been used by a POV character yet glass candles are said to cause visions and allow the user to see over vast distances. An incredibly useful tool supported by the abundance of information available at the Citadel. With the Ironborn invading the Reach and Faceless Men now present in Oldtown the ancient Valyrian artifact and Alleras may be invaluable assets in coming events. Jon, Daenerys, Jaime, Aemon and other characters have experienced dreams and visions that heavily hint at the use of various Glass Candles being in use throughout the world. Maesters do not like magic and Alleras like Sarella is said to often put themselves in the middle of situations that they should probably leave alone due to curiosity. One of the only characters to also mention the three headed dragon prophesy and nicknamed “The Sphinx”, Alleras will be a game changer. When Marwyn had returned to Oldtown, after spending eight years in the east mapping distant lands, searching for lost books, and studying with warlocks and shadowbinders, Vinegar Vaellyn had dubbed him “Marwyn the Mage. ” The name was soon all over Oldtown, to Vaellyns vast annoyance. “Leave spells and prayers to priests and septons and bend your wits to learning truths a man can trust in, ” Archmaester Ryam had once counseled Pate, but Ryams ring and rod and mask were yellow gold, and his maesters chain had no link of Valyrian steel. Armen looked down his nose at Lazy Leo. He had the perfect nose for it, long and thin and pointed. “Archmaester Marwyn believes in many curious things, ” he said, “but he has no more proof of dragons than Mollander. Just more sailors stories. ” “Youre wrong, ” said Leo. “There is a glass candle burning in the Mages chambers. ” A hush fell over the torchlit terrace. Armen sighed and shook his head. Mollander began to laugh. The Sphinx studied Leo with his big black eyes. A Feast for Crown – Prologue That had been one of his last good days. After that the [Maester Aemon] old man spent more time sleeping than awake, curled up beneath a pile of furs in the captain's cabin. Sometimes he would mutter in his sleep. When he woke he'd call for Sam, insisting that he had to tell him something, but oft as not he would have forgotten what he meant to say by the time that Sam arrived. Even when he did recall, his talk was all a jumble. He spoke of dreams and never named the dreamer, of a glass candle that could not be lit and eggs that would not hatch. He said the sphinx was the riddle, not the riddler, whatever that meant. A Feast for Crows - Samwell IV TL;DR The older Sandsnakes will be extremely influential characters in the coming events in The Winds of Winter but not nearly in the way that their HBO counterparts were. They will infiltrate the four pillars of Westeros society the Crown (Nymeria) Military (Obara) the Faith (Tyene. amp;amp; Citidel (Sarella) on the order of Prince Doran. Planning to enact revenge for the deaths of Princess Elia and Prince Oberyn and the attempt on Prince Trystanes life. They will send knowledge back to Prince Doran of events surrounding them while furthering Dornish interest from behind the scenes.

A 😔 sad story behind the news that no one mentioned when it happened, that's a danger jod, but someone had got to do it... 😕. @potus wow undocumented.

Windows on the world watch full length 2016

Windows on the world watch full length online. Most Brits DO know that Arthur was nothing to do with the Angles or Saxons or Normans, as we are mostly the descendants of the Brits still here and voting LEAVE to get out of the current attempts to rule over us. La maldad de el hombre no tiene limites que dia tan triste recuerdo como si fuera ayer. Readiness condition: DefCon 7 Exercise term: WHITE NOISE Description: Lowest state of readiness within the Terran Union. No hostiles exist that threaten the current military capabilities of fleets or planets. Minimum armaments on all non-colonization fleets as per Unified Module Design (UMD. Dedicated military fleets (excluding capital weaponry) to be maintained at around 5% of total fleet capability, guarding crucial jump points in the Union. Military fleets are to maintain a 20% system redundancy, at 50% personnel capacity. Personnel up to full fleet capacity will be assigned. These additional personnel are to report to their assigned fleet sector in case of DefCon increase. Planetary defense installations are to maintain a 30% activation rate. Orbital defense installations are to maintain a 50% activation rate. For frontier colonies these become 50% and 80% respectively, assuming adequate military infrastructure is in place. Capital weaponry is to be maintained in a non-active state in pre-selected sectors. All personnel assigned to capital weaponry will be housed in said pre-selected sectors and fulfill civilian roles as described in the Economic Morality of Peacetime Capital Weaponry manual (EMPCW. Excerpt from The Terran High Command Military Documents Collection. Treaty of Valhalla +20, 18:21, 29 hours Standard Terran Time. Rear Admiral Mid-Section Tatyana Lyudmilovna Voronina was rereading the list of targets she had been provided for the upcoming meeting. Although she looked relaxed, anyone watching closely could see an unmistakable predatory glee surrounding her. Ambassador Kchathak of the Chitiiri Technocratic Union and Ambassador Olloooleeal al Ollooooluuuel of the Karkat people. The two xenos responsible for her presence upon a Diplomatic Corp cruiser heading towards a meeting that will decide humanities interaction with every xenos species for quite some time. She thought back at the absurdity of it all when she was told that she, a lifetime soldier, would be representing humanity here, today. Her thoughts were interrupted as the ship-wide intercom came to life: “Two minutes to arrival. All quarters, prepare for FTL-disengagement. ” Tatyana secured her documents into the wall-mounted socket and strapped herself to her seat. She glanced back and saw her second putting his reading glasses into a protective case. He caught her eye and asked with a smirk: “Learn anything new, or are you just trying to see if you can burn a whole in that paper with your stare? ” Ibrahim Bashir was a member of the External Branch of the Diplomatic Corp. He had been assigned as her liaison and second chair, a job he had performed admirably, sarcastically and admirably sarcastic these past few days. As he was a regular second chair during military panels and the like they'd met a few times before. She'd always much preferred him over some of his more. distinguished colleagues. “No and in a way, ” she replied “seeing as I was not provided with an actual picture or even a description of my opponents, a piece of paper with their names on it is the closest Im going to get if I want to practice my death stare. Was there a reason why I was given no audiovisual material? ” Ibrahim chuckled. “Maam, with all due respect, if there is one thing about you that doesnt need anymore practice its you death stare. ” She smiled as the voice on the intercom started counting down: “Exiting hyperspace in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1. ” The TSS Diplomati dropped out of hyperspace, shuddering randomly as it did. While not violent enough to hurt individuals on board, provided they strapped themselves in properly, it was enough cause most small objects to take up skydiving as a hobby. Outside a massive space station hovered silently in the void. A giant metal icosahedron that formed the beating heart of the Federation. Ibrahim unbuckled and walked over to the other side of the room, where the windows where. “There she is: the Conclave. Impressive feat of construction, dont you think? Tatyana looked at the angular black monstrosity floating through space and wondered how many preschoolers it would have taken to design the thing. It looked like someone had a bunch of leftover triangles, glued them together and threw the results into space. “Yes, very impressive piece of architecture, ” she lied. “You also havent answered my question yet. ” Ibrahim grinned at her and replied: “Ow theres a very good reason youve not been shown any pictures or videos. Im surprised you havent figured it out yet. ” Tatyana raised an eyebrow in anticipation. “Being that youre a Rear Admiral Mid-Section and Im just a humble Special Attaché whose pay grade is far too low for these kinds of questions. ” He was probably lying although she couldnt exactly call him out on it. It was an open secret among the upper ranks of the Terran military that Special Attachés had a direct line to the Judicial Branch. They were usually assigned to diplomats who ran the risk of going off-road. Not that she would ever do that of course. The ship-wide intercom once more came to life: “Attention all passengers and crew, we have just dropped out of hyperspace outside Conclave station. We will be in orbit for the next 36 hours. Those with authorized leave requests, report to docking bays 11 to 15. Those without authorized leave, please report to your assigned cargo holds to receive adequate past-time recreational activities. Ambassadors, your shuttle has been prepared. At your earliest convenience, please report to docking bay 7. ” Ibrahim collected his possessions and said: “Im gonna go ahead and prepare the shuttle. It will be done in about ten minutes. ” Tatyana gave him a nod of approval and he started to make his way to docking bay 7. Looking out over the Conclave, Tatyana let her mind wander for a bit. First draft of a new entry into the Online Xenos Encyclopedia of Terra [U]niversal Translation Sphere V1. 0 WIP etc. The universal Translation Sphere (UTS) is one of the most remarkable pieces of technology ever seen. It consists of a metallic sphere the size of a basketball with a number of smaller spheres the size of baseballs hovering around it. The number of smaller spheres varies depending on the number of individuals that are being translated. These spheres will hover near individuals that are in need of a translation. This seems to happen automatically. Initial observations seems to suggest that the smaller spheres act as the microphones and speakers, while the bigger one does the translating. Unfortunately, there is as of yet no way of studying the inner workings of the UTS. The sole proprietors of this wondrous piece of technology are the Haltheon, who currently (preside over? Are presidents of? Rule. the Interstellar Federation. Any attempts to obtain a UTS will be blocked by them and would in all likelihood bring the wrath of the Federation down upon the dumb s o b that tries. The UTS is crucial to the proper functioning of the Federation. As the name implies it acts as a translation device. However, to call it a mere translation device would be bad or something, think of good words tomorrow. Rather than just translate the meaning of words that are spoken, the UTS actually analyses what is spoken as well as the context in which it is spoken. In addition, the Sphere can also pick up on slang, idioms and common sayings and translate them into a cultural equivalent for the listener while still keeping the messages original structure and content. The amount of computing power this would require goes far beyond what should be able to This reads like a seduction attempt rewrite. Also sports balls are not an objective unit of measurement. Note to self: further investigate the rumors that a sudden spike in volume dont immediately get corrected properly a. k. a talking normally and then shouting would cause the shout to be volume boosted to 11. How does this thing translate crosscultural jokes, but cant auto mute some shouting douche? Ask DipCorp Alice about this. Treaty of Valhalla +20, 18:25, 47 hours Standard Terran Time. It was only slightly over three years ago, Tatyana mused, that the first signs of non-human intelligent life were detected. Sapient she heard the voice of her grandfather shout in the back of her mind. She smiled and thought of how he would react to all this mess. Ok, old man. It was slightly over three years ago that the first signs non-human sapient life were detected by one of the newer colonies the Terran Union had established, a far off ice world appropriately named Valhalla. The following year was a flurry of construction, expansion and preparation. Specialists from all fields of study were dispatched to Valhalla. Of course, when it turned out to be one of the worst case scenarios, the Xenos were hostile and part of an alliance with other Xenos, high command was about ready to enact doomsday protocols. Thankfully, all those months of preparation hadnt been in vain and swift action allowed the human Diplomatic Corps to convince the other Xenos to stay at the sidelines, though apparently that hadnt been all that difficult (their words. “More of an economic bloc than a single political entity, ” was Aboiyes description. Fucking Michael Aboiye. Who would have thought that Micky the Obo would guide us through our first Xenos war. Tatyana closed her eyes and thought back to the moment the Terran Union ended the war. And boy did we end it. The first war with an Xenos race and the first ever use of an Exterminatus fleet. A single sustained bombardment on Ak Garmarth, capital of the planet Garmarth, fourth most populous planet in the Marth Dominion. Hundreds of thousands of specialized canisters filled with a mix of liquid flame and some chemical or another she never bothered to learn the name of. A chain reaction, splitting water molecules in the air into their constituent parts. Hydrogen and oxygen. And fire. The bombs would be more effective the higher the humidity, shed been told. Garmarth looked like the Amazonas if they were a planet. The resulting inferno shone as bright as the sun. Within 4 km2 nothing survived. 37 million died in less than two hours, including most of the planets political elite. The Dominion offered unconditional surrender not an hour after and humanity got a seat at the intergalactic table. Hell of a first contact. Excerpt of the transcript of an interview with a potential candidate for assignment 651-18. *CONFIDENTIAL. CONFIDENTIAL. This document is EYES ONLY. Glory to Humanity. Assignment 651-18 Interviewee: Rear Admiral Mid-Section Tatyana Lyudmilovna Voronina Interviewer: Richard Basely, Diplomatic Corp - Assignment Verification Branch Also present. Ambassador Eva Molina, Diplomatic Corp - Special Attaché Ibrahim Bashir, Diplomatic Corp - External Branch - Admiral Algernon Beaumont - Justiciar Prakoso, Central Terran Intelligence Chamber – Judicial Branch. Richard: Welcome everyone. This is the interview with Rear Admiral Mid-Section Tatyana Lyudmilovna is currently being considered for diplomatic mission 651-18, details of which have been withheld on a need to know basis. Uhm, if everyone could identify themselves quickly, just names, ranks, relevant branches… I am Richard Basely, Assignment Verification branch of the Diplomatic Corp. Tatyana: I am Rear Admiral Mid-section Tatyana Lyudmilovna Voronina, Terran Navy. Eva: Im Eva Molina, Ambassador with the Diplomatic Corp. Ibrahim: Ibrahim Bashir, Special Attaché, DipCorp External Branch. Algernon: Admiral Agernon Beaumont, Terran Navy. Prakoso: Judiciar Prakoso, Judicial branch. Richard: Quite an illustrious gathering, if I do say so. Uh, the way this usually works, we just call someone by their first names when addressing them in the interest of expediency, is that alright with everyone? All attendees are in agreement] Richard: Fantastic. Uhm, Tatyana, I would first like to go over your file for a bit. RAMC Voronina, currently in command of the Rapid Response Force “Molniya”. Enlisted immediately after graduating Arkhangelsk Naval Academy at 23. Displayed natural leadership qualities and exemplary discipline under pressure. Was assigned to Rapid Response Force “Molniya”, under then Rear Admiral Low-Section Mikhail Ivanovich Fyodorov at age 24. Stayed with Task Force “Molniya” in spite of numerous offers and promotions for twenty years, going so far as to take command after Fyodorovs retirement three years ago. Why were you so intent on staying with a Rapid Response Force, while you could have gotten a higher rank, increased benefits, more prestige elsewhere? Tatyana: laughing] With all due respect, if I wanted prestige and benefits I would have enlisted in the Terran Honor Guard, done the bare minimum service term, then retired at 35, spending the rest of my life basking in luxury in one of the upper spires. Ibrahim, Richard and Eva: Laughing] Prakoso: cough] Richard: Well, I suppose when you put it like that, but Im still curious as to why- Tatyana: Sir, if I may speak freely for a moment. Richard: Uh, yeah, uhm, of course, feel free to speak freely at any time, this is a freely speaking zone after all. [laughing] Tatyana: I am puzzled as to why I am here. As you just summarized I have been in the Navy my entire life. I am not, nor will I ever be, a diplomat. Although I dont know the precise details of this assignment, it stands to reason that it would require a… delicate touch. Ibrahim: Sir, if I may? Richard: Yes, go ahead. Ibrahim: Tatyana, you were present at the orbital bombardment of Ak Garmarth. You were also part of the post-war Ethics Inquiry. In your opinion, how would you place the events of that day in the wider context of the war. [pause] Tatyana: I, uh, that is, what happened on Ak Garmarth… [pause] Tatyana: What I saw on that footage was the single most horrifying thing Ive ever seen in my entire life. I have been through every live-fire exercise the Terran Navy has to offer. If their was footage of a war on our history, I have seen it. Nothing you can imagine could ever come close to what I saw in that footage. If you ever have a chance to review it do not do so, unless you have no say in the matter. Outside of the Ethics Board that footage holds no value to anyone. [pause] Having said that, I consider what happened an absolute necessity. Ibrahim: How so? We were winning the war. It just seemed like pointless cruelty. Tatyana: Yes, we were winning the war, but this wasnt just about the war. We needed to show to every member of the Federation what would happen should they decide to act against the Terran Union. We needed to burn into their very souls the cost of going against us. Youve read the XIC report. Unless we ended the war with overwhelming brutality and violence, unless we showed them exactly how far we were willing to go to protect ourselves, they would not have understood how different humanity was from every other race in the Federation. Ibrahim: And that is why you are here. Tatyana: I dont... follow. Ibrahim: Ambassador? Eva: Shes your pick. You have the honors. Richard: Uhm, at this point documents containing information considered “classified” will be discussed. For anyone without the proper clearance the, uh, recording will end here. End of recording. Treaty of Valhalla +16, 05:13, 31 hours Standard Terran Time. Wolfgang Kaiser walked into the room. He was still wearing his regular work outfit, a charcoal grey three piece suit, which for every other person would function as formal, but to him felt far too casual for meetings like this. This wardrobe crisis did nothing to aid his mood, which was already soured by the rushed nature of this meeting, worsened still by the fact that he had committed a capital sin: he was late. He looked around, noting the few handful of notable individuals among the thirty-odd people present. He sat down at the large round table that dominated the room, followed quickly by the rest of those present. The space itself was drab and functional, with only a few plants in various corners offering much in the way of color. “My apologies for being slightly later than planned, we had some last minute intel coming in, as per usual. Seeing as we are on a tight schedule and already behind it, I suggest we skip formalities and get straight to business. ” Murmurs of agreement arose around the room. “Because of the impromptu nature of this meeting we were unable to secure nametags or signs or the like. If you happen to find yourself speaking, state you name and position so everyone knows who they need to stop ignoring. Case in point: Wolfgang Kaiser, Senior Supervisor of the Xenos Behavioural Unit, sub-branch of the Xenos Intelligence Chamber. As the highest in rank I will also be acting as the chairman of this meeting. So, lets get to it: DipCorp, why are we here? He looked towards on section of the table where an Asian woman in her late fifties with short, cropped hear wearing a long-skirted diplomats uniform stood up. “Zhao Liu, Ambassador at Large, Conclave station. Approximately sixteen hours ago the combined diplomatic forces of the Chitiiri and Karkat have petitioned the Conclave to hold an expedient inquiry into humanity, specifying our continued refusal to publicly identify our so-called ‘warrior class. In spite of our best efforts their Federation seniority combined with general fear towards humanity meant the request was quickly pushed through. The inquiry is scheduled four days from now at 19:10, 00 STT. ” Wolfgang rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fantastic. So the purpose of this short session will be to determine the goal of this inquiry? What are the rats and the bugs planning and why? ” “Not quite. Briefly summarized: the Chitiiri Technocratic Union, the Karkat people and the Marth Dominion have had a three-way cold war going on for about a century now. With our overwhelming victory over the Marth, on the back of which we negotiated our entry into the Federation, the fear of the Chitiiri and Karkat is that we will continue to expand our influence over the rest of the Federation members. So far they are the only ones to have openly expressed this sentiment, but similar thoughts are going around within the diplomatic castes of the other species. It is no great leap in logic to suggest they seek our immediate expulsion from the Federation. Additionally, given the result of the war they may also seek some form of military supervision over humanity as ‘safeguard against hostilities or something of that description. ” Wolfgang sighed. “So your typical ‘we are scared so we dont want you in our club house-response. Since we already know this, why hasnt the Diplomatic Corp selected an ambassador to fix this then? ” He leaned backwards and stared intently at Ambassador Zhao. She almost cracked a smile. He always had a fondness for theatrics. “As you know, Senior Analyst Kaiser, for a while now the Diplomatic Corp and Xenos Intelligence Chamber have collaborated on research into the natural prey response found in the various species within the Federation. This research, combined with their remarkable societal structuring, has created several highly exploitable diplomatic avenues. We at the Diplomatic Corp believe that now is the time to utilize as many of these avenues as possible. This ‘inquiry is nothing less than a diplomatic act of war. They wish to isolate humanity from the galactic stage, out of base fear and ignorance, and that will not stand. ” “Like the war with the Marth, we did not start this and we have given them ample space to negotiate. Like the war with the Marth, our opponents feel they are superior to us and have refused. And thus, like the war with the Marth, we feel there is but one way to end this: with overwhelming force and aggression, to break the will of those that would stand against us and force them into submission. ” “We have gathered you here today to discuss a joint training program, utilizing the combined resources of the Diplomatic Corp and the XIC, to create, within four days, the diplomatic equivalent of an Exterminatus fleet. ”. Selection of decrypted e-mails from the Xenos Intelligence Chambers servers regarding predator/prey responses in the Xenos species encountered. Sender: Charlie Cox To: Robin Molenaar Subject: Orders from THE MAN Sup nerd, Attachment for yous perusiality. Upper command has suggested that, given the Xenos vastly different evolutionary path (check XIC doc “on the evolutionary differences, with regards to home world suitability for nurturing life” if you havent done so (which you deffo should have) their response to predacious stimuli should in theory be vastly and more amplified then ours. Theyve posited that, since in their evolutions they didnt have the uphill battle that we had (humans are metal confirmed) theyll have a significantly lower benchmark for labeling something “a threat”. Like, for them a wasp is an agent of satan (I mean they are, but thats beside the point) while we dont get out of bed for less than a hive. Ok, maybe not the best example but you get what I mean. What they want from us: draw up a preliminary report detailing the various stress-responses typically seen in predators and prey here on earth. Rough outline, so dont go deepdiving into the archives just yet. Well meet tomorrow for coffee yeah? Charles the weiner. Totally our homework and not a troyan dot Sender: Robin Molenaar To: Charlie Cox Cc: Yael Uzerli Subject: Preliminary finding re: prey response found in Federation xenos by Diplomatic Corp stationed at the Conclave Dear colleagues, before we begin: Ive added Yael to this chain. She has previous experience mapping behavioral patterns in isolated prey animals and, given the initial findings we shall discuss, command felt she would be a valuable addition to the team. On to todays topic: initial anecdotal testing seems to support the theory that the xenos have a heightened fight-or-flight response compared to humans. Ordinary interaction that involve “predatory behavior”, i. e. speaking with a noticeable growl, showing teeth, prolonged eye contact etc. all provoke a noticeable response from every single species present with the exception of the Haltheon, whos nature appears vastly different than all the species including humanity. They will be excluded from any further research in this field. See attachment for the full report. To properly introduce ourselves I suggest we have lunch sometime this week. I would suggest this Wednesday, but if you have other suggestions do let us know. Kindest regards, Robin Molenaar. Initial findings of the diplomatic Corp with regards to prey response of xenos present on the Sender: Yeal Uzerli To: Robin Molenaar, Charlie Cox Subject: Some more videos to help categorize specific species behavior Hey gang, Some more videos from the DipCorp people on the Conclave. This time we got the Findolein (the goat people) Karkat (hedgehog dungbeetles right. and some more Chitiiri (steampunk rats. Same deal as before? Three says of viewing, then link up and compare notes. Yael. Findolein stress response Karkat stress response Chitiiri stress response Sender: Charlie Cox To: Robin Molenaar G, Yeal Uzerli Subject: re:Some more videos to help categorize specific species behavior Ok, is it just me or do some of these goat people look kinda hot? I mean not that I wanna go for it or anything, just as a subjective observation. Sender: Robin Molenaar To: Yeal Uzerli, Charlie Cox Subject: re:re:Some more videos to help categorize specific species behavior I understand that with a last name like yours, being led by ones genitals is a natural instinct. Be that as it may, I would suggest not openly admitting to affection for Xenos species, lest your credentials be reviewed by some individuals of significant extra-legal influence. Having said that: I do admit to finding some of them aesthetically pleasing. Humanitys ability to find specific “human” characteristics in other species never ceases to amaze me. Robin Molenaar. Sender: Yeal Uzerli To: Robin Molenaar, Charlie Subject: re:re:re:Some more videos to help categorize specific species behavior I have no idea what you mean. Attached are totally not some lewds by some very talented artists. I would never do that. Yael. No Findolein The goat and the Totally not a modern Whatever floats your Sender: Robin Molenaar To: Yeal Uzerli, Charlie Cox, Sidney Houston Subject: Addition to the team Greetings colleagues, This is a notification of a new member joining the team. Sidney is part of the Diplomatic Corp. Since we are moving into strategy formulation based on our research, most teams will be joined by a member of the DC. Good to have you Sidney. Robin Molenaar. Sender: Charlie Cox To: Yeal Uzerli, Sidney Houston, Robin Molenaar Subject: re:Addition to the team Sup Sid, good of you to hitch a ride on the crazy train. Never a dull moment! So: emu or eagle? Charles III, esq. Sender: Yeal Uzerli To: Charlie Cox, Sidney Houston, Robin Molenaar Subject: re:re:Addition to the team Hey Sidney, Nice to have you here. I was wondering how we were going to be formulating strategies with some people here apparently failing to outgrow puberty. More importantly though: emu or eagle? Greetings, Yael. Sender: Sidney Houston To: Yeal Uzerli, Charlie Cox, Robin Molenaar Subject: re:re:Addition to the team Hey all, thanks for having me. Ill be working with you to formulate active social strategies to exploit the various vulnerabilities youve categorized. First off: fantastic work. Just knowing what the tells are makes all the difference in the world during negotiations. Ill be looking forward to working with you. Ive included a doc on general social strategies used by us during aggressive negotiations. I dont expect you to memorize it or anything, just give it once over so you know what well be working towards. Sincerely, Sidney P. s. Kiwi actually. Im pretty sure my parents were high on meth when they signed my birth certificate. General strategies during hostile. Treaty of Valhalla +16, 19:10, 31 hours Standard Terran Time. Upon entering the great auditorium, the first thing that struck Tatyana was its deliberate design. The description shed read didnt do it justice. A flat circular floor surrounded by concentric circles, increasing in height with each ring. Each circle had seats for delegates of various species, with specific sections tailored to fit any one species particular physiological needs. All envoys present would be looking down upon the poor delegation standing in that center circle, who were no doubt feeling very small and wishing they had in fact chosen the cold hard vacuum of space over this meeting. So naturally, when Tatyana passed through the doors leading into the auditorium, she confidently strode into the exact middle of the room closely followed by Ibrahim. As they came into view every envoy present suddenly took a quick breath, which lead to sounds ranging from drowning puppies to cocaine rats to cement mixers turned up to eleven. The Xenos envoys tried to maintain proper decorum, but the collective tendency was to lean as far away from the creatures standing, mercifully, on the lowest level. In this particular instance, rather than making the beings standing in the center feel small and insignificant, the room seemed designed to make the envoys sitting high up and far away feel just a bit safer. Soon however, the Chitiiri and Karkat managed to organize a joint Xenos booing of the humans delegation. The different delegations were seated as shed been told, with the lone Haltheon directly on the opposite end of where Tatyana and Ibrahim entered, at twelve oclock. At eleven oclock sat the Chitiiri who had indeed packed their section to the brim, creating the feeling of a legion of sports hooligans if those sports hooligans resembled Skaven having joined the Adeptus Mechanicus. Ambassador Kchatchak sat in the center of the first row, proudly flying the Chitiiri diplomatic flag. Bless their hearts, they really are going all out. The Karkat were seated at three oclock, also packing quite a delegation but not as many as the Chitiiri. Or as rowdy for that matter. Ambassador Olloooleeal al Ollooooluuuel also sat in the center of the first row, also proudly flying their diplomatic colors. Ill almost feel bad crushing their spirits. Tatyana spent a few moments observing the Marth delegation. They numbered just three and really did seem like they had preferred the airlock rather than this meeting. Looking at them, she felt really only pity. Although the war they started caused a lot of human casualties, these paled in comparison to what theyd suffered. She remembered various wars on earth, where armchair generals sent millions to their death in pointless conflicts. At least this time, the ones responsible had gotten their just desserts. Now to make sure none of these other sniveling xenos bureaucrats try and do a repeat. The rest of the delegations also sat in their assigned section, although most had brought no more than a few dozen delegates. The Thorians and Pleocykwa had, as predicted, not sent anyone. As they were standing at the center of the room a small translator sphere began silently hovering near Tatyana and Ibrahim. Tatyana tried to decipher some of what the Chitiiri and Karkat were shouting, but even the Haltheons vaunted translation sphere couldnt deal with the cacophony of sounds filling the room. All she heard was cocaine rats screeching something about “integrity”, supported by the sounds of, what, beached whales with cement lungs? She looked around and found the source of this sound was the Karkat delegation. It sounded like someone rubbing two pieces of concrete together and adding a bunch of bass effects in post. Tatyanas respect for the diplomatic corps doubled when she was forced to listen to it for a length of time. She wondered if not allowing her to hear this beforehand was some sort of Diplomatic Corp hazing. As soon as the translator sphere had properly aligned itself with human envoys, the melodic voice of the Haltheon presiding over this meeting began to reverberate around the room: “We are honored to once again preside over a meeting of equals, here in this great Federation. We would like take this moment to welcome the newest member of this league of species: Humanity. ” Ok, showtime. Various reactions ranging from quiet disapproval to outright disgust arose from the various Xenos envoys, with the exception of the Marth, who just seemed to want to disappear, and the Findolein, who just seemed rather amused by the whole affair. “We, Haltheon, will be presiding over this inquiry, requested by the honorable envoys of the Karkat and Chitiiri. I will now give the floor to envoy Kchathak, speaker on behalf of the Chitiiri Technocratic Union, who will explain their reasoning for requesting this inquiry. Speaker Kchatchak also speaks on behalf of Envoy Olloooleeal al Ollooooluuuel of the Karkat. ” Envoy Kchatchak rose to his paws and started speaking: “It has been less than two Standard Federation Cycles since the nightmarish attack on Ak Garmarth, a horrifying act that still has our people terrified from its brutality. In the history of our Federation, no single species has ever dared commit and act of such a reprehensive nature. We therefore saw it as the first priority of the Federation to ensure the humans align with our customs and laws, the number one law being the immediate and open identification of their warrior class, be it societal caste or client race. To date they have refused any and all such requests! How are we expected to allow them to walk around when we cant even tell is one of them is a warrior? ” Loud noises of support filled the auditorium. The Karkat were particularly noisy, no surprise since they co-funded this circus. She acted suitably humbled by the words and sounds around her, all the while keeping a sharp eye on ambassador Kchathak. She caught it immediately: the change in his breathing, the shift in posture. Here we go. Go ahead. Drop your little firecracker. “We would therefore, honorable envoys, like to use this inquiry to establish why exactly humanity has failed in its obligations to the Federation. If the humans once again fail to identify their warriors in the interest of public safety, or if their reasons for not complying sooner are unsatisfactory, The Chitiiri Technocratic Union and the honorable people of the Kartkat will put forward a motion to revoke humanities admission to the Federation, and to place them under strict military supervision by the combined forces of the Federation to safeguard the integrity and the continued existence of this great league of species. ” At this the auditorium erupted in a hurricane of sounds. Cries of support were thrown around again, once more dominated by the cement whales. The Marth for their part were shocked out of silent dread into full-blown panic mode. The Findolein shouted what Tatyana guessed was a flurry of racially motivated slurs at both the Chitiiri and Karkat, judging by the few snippets of words she could make out. Shame, some new curse words would have been nice. The noise was deafening and showed no signs of slowing down. Ambassador Kchathak looked at Tatyana with what she assumed was the techno-rat version of smug condescension. But instead of the cowed and scared human he had expected, he saw something else entirely. There, in the center of this maelstrom of profanity being hurled around she stood. Smiling. A simple, genuine smile, aimed straight at Kchathak. He saw this strange creature, with its face flaps curled up and seemingly wholly relaxed. It felt like he was staring in the eyes of a great beast, ready to pounce and rip his throat out. He shivered as a thought crept up, along his spine, firmly lodging itself in his mind: had he just made a terrible mistake? Tatyana caught his shiver and recognized that look in his eyes. Shed seen it a thousand times in her decades as a soldier. She slowly widened her smile, revealing her teeth. Yes, little mouse, you did just make a mistake. It is bad. And it is going to get. A. Whole. Lot. Worse. Glory to Humanity. Readiness condition: Defcon 6 Exercise term: FADE IN Description: Increased readiness, indicating a possible, but as of yet unconfirmed, threat to the Terran Union. Defcon increase requires 50% support from Central Military Threat Assessment Committee (CeMTAC) Central Military Command (CMC) senior leadership as well as the United Terran Parliament (UTP. Intermediate stage between peacetime mobilization and escalation to war economy. Conversion of governmental civilian to military vessels to start, in accordance with the assessments made by CemTAC. Rapid Response Fleets (RRF) to be stationed at every major jump point connected to the region a hostile force is threatening. All military personnel currently assigned to military fleets are to maintain draft-readiness if so ordered. Systems where combat is occurring or expected to occur may draft soldiers as needed up to fleet capacity and request the resources to increase system redundancy across fleets and defensive installations, pending approval from CeMTAC. Planetary defense installations are to maintain a 50% activation rate. Orbital defense installations are to maintain a 70% activation rate. For locations where combat is expected to occur these become 70% and 90% respectively, assuming adequate military infrastructure. The following capital weapons are to be activated, pending unanimous support from CeMTAC, CMC senior leadership as well as the Military Ethics Board (MEB) Super heavy Carrier Groups (designated as HCV) and Dreadnoughts (designated DBB. If hostile landings have occurred or are occurring, fallout shelters are to be opened and evacuation protocols are to be put in place. Planetary Defense Forces are to be activated on such planets. Suspension of civilian code of law in effect, to be replaced with the Conduct under Martial Law (CML. Excerpt from The Terran High Command Military Documents Collection.

The FBI was Founded by Vatican Knight of Malta ( SMOM ) J Edgar Hoover, the CIA was Founded by Knight of Malta ( SMOM ) Bill Donovan. 6 Other CIA Directors were Confirmed SMOM members too, for example ; William Casey, Bush, and Alan Dulles ( Director at the time of JFK. The European Nobility, Intelligence Directors and the Most Big CEO's are Vatican Knights and / or Freemasons, they Bow to the Papal Roman Empire. And when this System Fails, the Papacy and the U.N. will Act as Savior Offering the Totalitarian Socialist World System under the U.N. as Solution to the Chaos. While Unknown to Most the Jesuits, Freemasonry and Papal Rome Created Much of the Problems in the First Place. All ( NWO ) roads lead to the 1500 year Old ANTICHRIST Papacy, just like the Bible Predicted. Please : Do Your Own Research and Get Born Again, God bless.

Please support us on Patreon I will be uploading specialized content for patrons of  Windows on the World. Click below for all our shows and also… 9PM SUNDAY LIVESTREAM A ND CHATBOX Bitchute Channel If you benefit from our information please contribute here: Patreon Link LIVE STREAM ON SPREAKER 9pm SUNDAYS Please Subscribe Here New shows Every Wednesday at 8pm on Windows on the World You Tube Channel Mark Windows guest livestream shows on  Eric Von Essex channel Latest interviews Richie Allen show interview starts at 56 mins Our series of talks The Bigger Picture  are available to book through the website. Go to  Live Events FORTHCOMING EVENTS: THE BIGGER PICTURE You can download our Bigger Picture Poster Here ALL TALKS TALKS 2020: 8th Feb, The Cornerhouse 1 Christchurch Street East Frome BA11 1QA  11:00 AM – 6:00 PM GMT   EVENTBRITE BOOKINGS PAGE 9th Feb 12-7. 30pm The Dartmouth Inn, Totnes, Eventbrite bookings page SAT 15th Feb 10 on the door: KonSept Fitness, 10 Mengham Road, Hayling Island, Hampshire, PO11 9BL Sat 22nd Feb Worthing, East Sussex,  EVENTBRITE BOOKINGS PAGE Some recent interviews: To understand how the narrow reality and accepted corridor of opinion is imposed and why you are controlled through it, it is necessary to understand the system you are born into. Interview with The Irish Megaphone Interview with Richard Willett “A BUSINESS PLAN FOR THE WORLD”. Interview with Ciaran Boyle:  An Irish Perspective. More on his channel. EXPOSING USEFUL IDIOTS! IN OUR RECENT SHOW CITIZENS ASSEMBLIES = END OF CHOICE  We described how public participation in local planning has been taken away. The recent Citizens Assemblies in Oxford will usher in draconian restrictions on private travel and the closing of streets to all traffic. The implementation of this agenda in Waltham Forest was very unpopular and now Walthamstow Deputy Council leader Clyde Loakes who was the front puppet for implementation of “Mini Holland” in Waltham Forest has been chosen to front the same agenda in Oxford under its new brand “liveability”. The video below includes soundbites and outright lies and all in the name of sustainable development the UN Agenda to control and manage population in Smart Cities with only public transport and cycling. None of this has been properly thought out. Check out our archive on Mini Holland and Agenda 21/30/ All comments on the video below are “shadow banned”, this is very sinister considering that this is meant to be about public engagement, the amount of dislikes is revealing though. NAMED AND SHAMED! The UK Venues that Hate Truth Listen to the phone call to the organization who banned “The Bigger Picture”: Phone call to The Hamblin Centre Mark Windows Interview with Richard Willetts of Glitch in the Code: PODCAST LINK: Global Action Plan – Its just business Richie Allen Show with Mark Windows (Starts 30 mins in) The Bigger Picture, an overview Please support us by downloading our feature documentaries: Here Piers Corbyn Climate Challenge to the UN IPCC Small Charity and Venue Under Threat: FULL STORY Check out our  Crimestoppers Takedown Mark Windows on Richie Allen show (31 mins in.

Hitting the nail on the head about the Australian bushfires and failing to clear areas to stop fires spreading. Flooding is being caused ON PURPOSE in the UK for the same reason - th CREATE problems and push people into smart cities. Road grates are always blocked when I cycle and guess what happens when it rains heavy? Yes - roads and larger areas flood! The stopping of dredging rivers has highered the riverbeds, leading to FLOODING! As for the flood defense walls, they are merely shoving the water further downstream to flood another area, quite often areas away from the 'smart city' areas. come on people, it's obvious what is going on.

That reminds me of a story. “Rock”, Esme yells to me exasperatedly, as Im out in the garage trying to fix the winch on my truck, “Your satellite phones going nuts. Will you please answer the damned thing? ” I had left my Osmoridium phone in my study as Im off-duty and elbows deep in a wayward world-weary worn Warn Winch. “Oh, sorry”, I reply. My, shes cranky. I know Tash has lately been into everything, but thats no reason… “ROCK! ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN PHONE! ” Esme orders at great volume. “Yes, dear”, I rapidly and meekly reply as I run to my office. I guess its time for a conciliatory Haagen-Dazs infusion. I run into the house, trip on the stupid cat, and get waylaid by Lady who insists that now would be a good time for walkies…. Out of breath, after promising Lady Ill take her for her daily constitutional if shell let me answer the damned phone, I pick it up, cue the passcode, and yell into the infernal device: “WHAT‽” “Umm…Hello, Doctor. ” the phone replies. Its Agent Rack. “Yes? Sorry. Im a bit out of breath. ” I apologize. “Sorry. I didnt catch you in the middle of anything, did I? ” he leers, which is difficult to convey over the phone, but he manages. “Yes. ” I snap back, “I was welding on a winch…” but I stop. I knew this was going nowhere. “Oh? ” he replies. “Yep. Now, Agent, what for can I do you? ” I ask. “Hows your schedule look for the next couple-three weeks? ” he asks. “So far, semi-clear, ” I reply. Ive got some galley proofs to read over on an article Ive submitted to Science magazine with some other geological types, but Im holding off on contracts for a time. These last few trips really took it out of me. I need a little R&R. “Well, Ive got a request”, he explains. “Great. More Agency skullduggery? ” I wonder aloud, “Or another training mission to some far-flung locale? ” “No. Not this time”, he explains, “Its more of an interdepartmental courtesy…” “Oh, lord, ” I muse, “Now what? ” “Well, Doctor”, Agent Rack proceeds, “The US Department of the Inferior, in collaboration with the Bureau of Land Mismanagement and the Bureau of Indigenous Affairs was asking us if we knew anyone with mining geological experience. Naturally, your name came up. ” “Um, Agent”, I explained, “Im Oil Field Trash. Ive done some mining; coal, hard and soft rock, surface and underground, as well as quarrying, but you know well Im mostly an oily, drilly sort of guy…” “We know that”, he continues, “But they are in explicit need of someone with a large amount of geological…” “Yes? ” I ask leerily. “…and blasting experience…” he adds. I can hear his grin growing over the phone. “OK, you got me”, I note, “You have piqued my interest. You will not be hung up on now for another 2 minutes. The clocks ticking, Agent…” “Umm, yes”, he noted, “They need someone to make the rounds of a number of disused mines in the Southwest, some in New Mexico as a matter of fact, and de-activate them. ” Visions of Primacord and binaries begin dancing in my head. “OK, youve earned yourself a few more minutes”, I reply, “Please. Do continue. ” “If you accept”, he notes further, “Youll be paired with an accredited Wildlife Biologist. Those mines with populations of bats are to be closed but retaining access for these animals. Those mines without an indigenous winged mammalian fauna will be closed permanently. ” “Whoa. ‘Indigenous winged mammalian fauna? ” I ask. “Since when did you go to school? ” “Im reading from the prospectus, Doctor”, he replies, icily. “Ah. ” I reply, “When, where and most importantly, how much? ” “When is as soon as possible. Where is New Mexico, Colorado, and Arizona. Possibly Nevada. How much remains to be seen. ” He replies. “OK. What about materiels? ” I ask, “Will I have access to some governmental goodies? ” “If you are referring to explosives, ” he continues, “Of course. You will have full access to whatever you need. That includes building materials. You can mix and lay concrete, can you not? ” “Oh, sure. ” I reply, “Just ask Guido the Blade. Oh, never mind. He wouldnt say much from the bottom of the Chicago River. ” “Humor. ”, the agent continues, “A most difficult concept. Particularly with you. ” “Yes”, I clarify, “Im adept at handling concrete. Its not exactly rocket science, yknow. ” “Good”, he replies, “Interested? ” “As usual, let me ask Esme. If I get the all-clear from her, yeah, Id be interested. Is it FIFO or DIDO? Fly in/Fly Out, Drive In/Drive Out. ” “Wed prefer you drive”, he notes, “You already have most of the equipment, and that will save time in the long run. ” “Yknow”, I reply, “rental on my gear is going to cost you…wear and tear, transport, insurance… This is a very ominous assignment. with overtones of extreme personal danger. I'm a bloody Doctor of Geology. This is important, goddamnit! ” “Yes, we know”, he says somewhat defeated, “Send us your quote by the COB (Conclusion of Business) today. Well be back in touch. ” “BuzzBuzzBuzz. ” The phone buzzes. “Hmm. He hung up”, I notice, “How rude. ” First things first. If Im going to spring this on Es at the present moment, I need to make plans. “Es! ” I yell, “Im taking Lady walkies. I took my phone. Back in a few! ” and Im out the door, being dragged by our 130-kilo Mastiff. Luckily, theres a Stop-n-Rob just on the other side of the sub-division. We head over there and pick up a container of Dark Chocolate Fudge Mocha Chip Trüffel Caramel Custard Marshmallow Triple Ripple, a pint of Peppermint Custard Sandwich Cookie White Chocolate Peppermint Schnapps, and some Butter Rum Custard Dark Chocolate Sea Salt Almond Bark Pecan Macadamia with Fudge-Covered Peanuts, Lite for home. I also picked up a pint of Blue Bell Bean Vanilla for me. Its not bribery. Its for maintaining sanity and a sense of normality back home. They have thermal insert bags, so I purchase one to keep the frozen bounty in its present condition until Lady decides shes walked enough. Over a pint of choco-goo, I broach the idea of my traveling to New Mexico for a couple or three weeks. “Yeah, Es”, I explain, “I really dont want to go, but hell. Its the government, and they asked specifically for me. It makes me nervy, especially if I say no and they talk to their buddies at the Infernal Revenue Disservice. ” Not really. Its a small fib, although I never did let them know about my accounts in Russias Sverbank… Not that thats illegal or anything. I think. I hope. Esme looks at me askance. “Leaving again? ” she asks, “Home alone with the kids. Well, I knew the job was dangerous when I took it…” “What job? ” I foolishly ask. “Marrying you. ” She grins. Actually, shes fine with my taking a road trip. It gives her the excuse to order plane tickets for her mother to fly in and sit with Esme and the kids whilst Im gone. Of course, Esme will tend to this, she has all my pertinent numbers. Im now on a schedule. And a mission. “All that ice cream for nothing”, I lament. “Everything in life has its price”, she smiles at me. “So, I can go? ” I ask her directly. “Well, ” she smirks, “As long as youre going to New Mexico, you could drop by the Scavada and see whats on dead pawn…” “Gotcha. ” I smile, “Good thing the Agencys got deep pockets. This is going to cost me a bundle just to get there. ” “Turquoise”, Esme notes, “Not turtle shell. Oh, silver conchos if Fred has any. ” “Message received. ” I smile. “Well, I need to mail Rack and Ruin my prospectus for this job”, I note, “And now I really need that winch fixed. ” “Rock”, Es says, “Dont take this wrong, but why not call in Digger? You worry about your Agency contract and let Digger sort out your truck. That thing is evil and hates me but you seem to like it. Let him get it ready for your road trip. ” My 1-ton GMC pickup is a big old truck, and Esme hates it because its huge, has a custom 10-speed manual transmission, three fuel tanks, four-wheel drive, and mind of its own. However, shes never let me down and I refuse to trade her in. Thats the truck Im referring to… I call Digger and he sends over his top mechanic, Cletus. I pile the bits and pieces of the winch into the back and he drives off to Diggers garage. Hes going to give her the once over, change all the belts and hoses and charge me a fortune. But, he does excellent work and stands behind it. He even changes and tops off the blinker light fluid. More than I can say for most mechanics Ive run across. I work up my contract for the Agency. Its bog-standard: per diem, travel allowances, Door to Door, Force Majeure clause, Take or Pay; the usual. I send it off and within three hours, I have the signed contract in my hands along with my contact information, itinerary, and the job description. Its actually rather simple work this time. Assay disused mines all over the southwest. If they are home to a bat population, then close the mines adits (portals) so that the bats, but nothing else, particularly humans, can gain entrance. No bats? Close the portals permanently. I love vague wording. Translation: get loads of explosives from the government and blast those fuckers shut good and tight. Since were back in Texas now; yes, we do a lot of bouncing around for the next couple of decades, Im actually looking forward to the drive to New Mexico. I decide to take the scenic route. Ill go down I-10 through San Antonio, to El Paso. Spend the night in El Paso, then drive north to Las Cruces. After that, its just due north to Albuquerque and the offices of the BLM. Easy drive, nice and scenic. Ill leave at midnight, be in San Antonio by 0300 or so, and then spend the morning and early afternoon driving to El Paso. Overnight in ‘The Pass, with maybe a bit of a side trip to Old Mexicos Ciudad Juarez to pick up a few boxes of cheap cigars, and bunk it in for the night. The next morning, I can ease up to Las Cruces, maybe with a stopover in Socorro and visit the New Mexico Bureau of Mines and Mineral Resources, then scoot up to Albuquerque. Well, as long as Im going to stop over in Juarez, I may as well drop in at Los Ojos Rojos, a restaurant/tavern I used to frequent on our annual deer hunts down near Cornudas. Wed go every year, and most years we would actually take guns. Anyways. First, I have to get my truck back from Digger. Until then, time to pack. Later that evening I hear my truck pull up outside the house. Its Digger personally delivering my GMC back to me. “Yeah, welp, Rock; we goter all saddled and bridled for ya” Digger says, “Had to upgrade your winch, seems some ham-fisted rod jockey welded some of the contact points clean off…” I was standing in the driveway with a cross look. “Which can happen to anyone”, he quickly continues. “Tuned ‘er up, oil change, new belts, checked all the fluids, made sure everything was A-OK. I finally got those tires you ordered, and lookee here. Shit, with these new skins, she looks like a new truck. Got you two spares like you asked; ones slung underneath and the others locked down in the bed. ” The truck looked great. New all-terrain off-road and overland tires, polished Crager high-strength off-road mag wheels, winch with all new mounting hardware and new tow cable. Hell, even got me a new titanium hook-clip for the winch. Impressive. I felt better now heading on down and off the road. I gasped a bit when he presented me with the bill. He never dings me much for labor, pick up or delivery. But new chrome locking lug nuts, six new tires, a couple of new rims, and all the assorted tune-up and fluids work topped out north of 1, 750. I paid Digger. I also consoled myself that one way or another, the Agencys going to be footing this bill. I shake Diggers greasy hand and thank him. He tells me to take it easy as the Texas Highway Patrols on the warpath again. Hes a fountain of good Intel. Back in the house, I tell Esme its all hands on deck. I need help packing as Esme tells me “Youre hopeless”. “OK”, I readily agree, “I need two-three weeks worth of field clothes, a couple of pairs of field boots, my blasting vest, and my Stetson. ” “Only the bare minimums, right? ” Esme chuckles. “Oh, all that under-armor and socks and such…” I add. “Youd forget your head if it wasnt bolted on”, Esme chuckles as she grabs one of my luggage cases and sets to packing me for my journey. In my office, I start to collect my traveling necessities. Hmmm…wallet, necessary licenses, and certificates. Check. Passport? Not this time. Emergency and road flasks? Check, double-check. Oh, bother. Only one box of cigars. And its too late to head to the mall. Ah, well, now I have a real excuse to sashay over the border in El Paso. I hope a single box of Fuentes will get me as far as ‘The Pass. Now, back to packing. Bullwhip? Nahhh. I never could get the hang of that thing. OK, lets see: Captain America blasting machine. Leatherman. Buck jackknife. Blasters pliers. Estwing hammers. Chisels. Gad pry bars. Marsh pick. All those leftover rolls of “Do Not Cross. Crime Scene” tape. Zippo lighters. Fresh field notebooks. Tyvek sample bags. 10 gauge pump Mossberg shotgun. A couple of boxes of double-ought buckshot. 64 ounce ‘keepsem hot travel mug. Cassettes, 8-track tapes, and CDs (my truck goes all ways, musically. Ill need to stop in Mancos, TX. to pick up some dry sausage and jerky. Good thing its right on the way. Oh, yeah; my. 454 Casull sidearm. And a couple of boxes of hot loads. Ill need to procure a quart of bourbon, a quart of rum, a quart of vodka, a case of Bitter Lemon, a bag of limes, a couple of cases of beer… not that I needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious booze collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. We put the children to bed after stories and hugs, and I pack my truck. I forgot I had a ‘safety blitz, that is, a case of beer stashed behind the seat in my truck. Good. I can stay hydrated much more easily now. Odd, I dont remember opening it and grabbing a six-pack. Wasnt like that when it went to Diggers, was it? Bah! Never mind. I need to get packed. I place the shotgun in the Texas-standard Easy Rider Rifle Rack. I have my holster on, but driving while wearing a hand cannon is most uncomfortable. It goes into the metal lock-box between the two seats. Esme helps me load the truck and seeing how I forgot any foul weather gear, she brings out my duster for me. “What would I do without you”, I ask through a sloppy, wet kiss. “Die of exposure? ” she snickers. “Nice. ” I reply. I go through my quick mental checklist. Luckily Es remembers that I didnt mention film. I troop back in the house and grab a half-dozen rolls out of my office fridge. “Now do you have everything? ” Es asks. ” I reply, “Dont think I forgot anything else…” “Do you have your Brunton? ” she asks. Back in the truck after retrieving my Brunton compass, she asks me “Galvanometer? ” In the garage, I grab my galvanometer. I look around furtively to see if theres anything else I should grab. Back in the truck, again. Esme is still chuckling. “If Ive forgotten anything, Ill buy it, ” I said, hunkering down behind the wheel. “Contracts? Field books? Pencils? Satellite phone? ” Esme asks. “No, Ive got all that. ” I reply, “Looks like Im finally good to go. ” Es scans the front seat of my truck which looks like a flea market in Addicks. “Dont worry. Ill sort out all this debris while on the road. ” I assure her. “Just be damned careful. Remember, my mothers coming in a day or two. Dont be afraid to call. ” She smiles. “Not a problem. ” I reply, “You take it easy with the girls. Maybe go over to Bear Creek and feed the ducks? ” “Dont let them hear you say that”, Es looks alarmed, “You know what an ordeal that is. ” Its not feeding the ducks, its loading the car and all the preliminaries. Then the inevitable “I dont wanna” when its time to go home. “OK”, I say, “Just stand down until Oma arrives. Use my corporate card and get her a cab so you dont have to troop out to the airport with the kids. ” “I was going to ask Sylvia to watch them”, Es nods, “But thats a better idea. ” “Thats me all over. ‘Dr. Problem Solver. ” I smile. We embrace, kiss, and I fire up my truck. It catches on the first turn and I note all three tanks are full. “Only need to stop is to pee before reaching El Paso, ” I say to Es, “Were all tanked up and ready to go. ” “Just be damned careful”, Es reminds me, “Youve got a family waiting on your return in once piece. ” “Hey, if I can survive Aeroflot, Im bulletproof”, I say. Es chuckles deferentially. “Just drive safely and come home safe and sound. ” She tells me. “Will do, hon! ” I reply. We kiss, I drop the truck into reverse, and chug out on the highway. I plug a tape into the musical volcano that is my trucks sound system. 1000 watts RMS, 8 speakers, graphic equalizer. Nothing succeeds like excess. Im not certain that the subwoofer was such a good idea for a truck without a crew cab… “On the road again - Just can't wait to get on the road again. The life I love is blowin shit up with my friends. And I can't wait to get on the road again. On the road again. Goin' places that I've never been. Seein' things no one will ever see again. And I can't wait to get on the road again On the road again. ” “Gad”, I think, “What a set of pipes. ” Well, the road trip calms down considerably after all this. The initial euphoria of being out on the road again is replaced by the reality of the fact of the size of Texas and the time it takes going from point A to point B. No roadmap needed. The trip is utter simplicity. I-10 West until El Paso, then dogleg right up I-25 through New Mexico. Yawn. Its only been 2. 5 hours and already Im bored out of my skull. Coming up to Mancos, I see the Mancos Billy Bob Truck Stop, Tire Salon, Hair Dressers, and International Airport is still open. This is my first stop. Provisions. 64-ounces of day-old, if Im that lucky, road coffee. Beef, elk, bison, and turkey jerky. Links of dry sausage. A couple of cases of Lone Star. A bottle of Old Thought Provoker or two. OK, three. A bag of ice for the cooler, a bulletproof ham and cheese Truck Stop sandwich, and a bag of chicken crispies. These are the bits of chicken that fall off other peoples orders. Theyre greasily magically delicious. A couple of boxes of Jack Black cheapo-o road cigars, some scratch-off lottery tickets for Es, and five “Pick 5” lotto picks. Yeah, I occasionally pay the Stupid Tax. But, I rationalize, you cant win if you dont play. I trundle all this out to my truck and put the coffee, chicken, sandwich, and jerky in the cab. The rest goes in the cooler in the back, on ice. For later. Back headed due west, I fiddle with the radio in my truck. I was a real HAM geek for years (WZ9AXI – KFZ 9605) and this radio proves it. Its a mobile long- and shortwave receiver, as well as AM/FM broadcast radio. Im currently fiddling with it trying to find Radio Moscow as I hum down the deserted highway. It also can pick up certain law enforcement agencies radio transmissions. Im no lead foot, never a ticket in over 45 years of driving, but I do listen occasionally for weather and road reports. Thats my story and Im stickin to it. I roll into the outskirts of San Antonio earlier than expected. Given the lack of crosswinds, traffic, and the time of night; even with my pit stop in Mancos, Im way ahead of schedule. Which is great, as I realize that Ive been slurping coffee for the last three hours and damn. I need to pee. I whip into a What? A Burger? joint. I beeline to the head and make a fatter bladder flatter. I feel it necessary to purchase something since Ive availed myself of their facilities so I go up to the front and order some more coffee. “Java, java, java” I say, mimicking largeness exponentiated with each recitation. The tired-looking guy behind the counter grouses, now he has to make a fresh pot. “No one else is going to want coffee for three maybe four more hours. ” Damn, grouse, bitch, kvetch. “OK, mate”, I say, “Forget the coffee, just a medium Dr. Pepper then, light ice. ” He brightens slightly and pours me a huge fountain Dr. Pepper, the largest they have. “OK”, I say, bewildered, “How much? ” “Zip. Its a freebie. Now I dont have to make coffee. Enjoy. ” he tells me. “OK, youre the boss”, I say, tip my hat, and head out to my truck. I set this huge drink in my cup holder between the seats. It scarcely fits, so I slurp some of it down. No dice, its still metastable. This spills, its a soda tsunami. Struck with an idea, I drain the last few dregs of my thermal coffee cup, grab some ice out of the cooler in the back, and transfer the drink to the iced capped cup. “There. Not a problem. ” I say as I fire up the truck, back out, and head on down the road. Tooling down the road, its way early, 0-dark 30. Bars are all closed, and its before the graveyard shift gets off work. The roads empty. I whizz past downtown San Antonio and off to the wilds of West Texas. Im smoking on one of my Fuentes Canoñe cigars, slurping from my Dr. Pepper, rocking out to Pink Floyd, and making great time. Im not speeding, no need. I get there when I get there. Then why the blinkered fucks are there red and blue flashing lights in my rearview mirror? This thought is counterpointed by the shrill blast of a Texas State Troopers siren. “Oh. Fucking delightfully peachy. ” I grumble. I signal to pull over, stop, put on the parking brake, set the blinkers, shift into neutral, kill the engine, and put my hands on the steering wheel at 10 and 2, in plain sight. “Tok, tok, tok” goes the troopers nightstick against my widow. “Use your left hand and roll down the window. ” He instructs me. “Yes, sir”, I say as I comply, “Officer, I need to tell you that I am carrying weapons. Im licensed for CCL, but by law, I must inform you. ” “OK, sir. Thank you for that”, he says. “Let me see them”. I point with my thumb over my shoulder to my Easy Rider Rifle Rack and he shines his torch up there. “10 gauge pump? Holy shit” he says. “You like that, youll love this”, as say as I open the action, spill the shells, and hand him my empty, custom. 454 Casull. “Son of a bitch! ” he exclaims, “What the hell is this? ” “Its a. 454 Casull Magnum. Used for hunting buffalo. Up close. ” I say. He laughs and hands me back my pistol. “OK, sir. Can I see your licenses, registration, and proof of insurance? ” “Certainly”, as I hand him the required documents. “OK, all seems to be in order. ” He says, handing me back my paperwork, “You know why Im stopping you? ” “No sir. No idea. ”, I reply, “I wasnt speeding, that I know. ” “No, but you were drinking. Whats in the cup? ” he asks. “My coffee cup? Why Dr. Pepper. Just got it the other side of Santone. ” I note. “And whats that smell? You got any Mary Jane in there? ” he asks. “Nope. ” As I retrieve my cigar. “Just this Fuentes cigar. Keeps me awake. ” “Ohh, I see. Let me see your coffee cup”, he asks. “OK”, and I hand him my 64-ounce thermal mug. He gives it a sniff and says “Yep. Thats Dr. Pepper all right. ” “Told you so”, I replied. “My apologies, sir”, he continues, “Its just that it's 0400 in the morning, I heard your music as you cruised past me back there. Then I see a glowing red cherry and you drinking out of a huge mug. Sorry, but thats looks suspicious to me. ” “Not a problem, officer”, I say, “Best to be certain and make sure Im not going off to New Mexico with a load of dynamite. ” He chuckles a bit, looks at me, and asks, “Youre not, are you? ” “Actually, yes. ” I reply, “Im not carrying any explosives at present, but Im off on a job for the BLM, BIA, and Department of the Inferior. Im a licensed blaster and Im off to close some dangerous subsurface mines down. ” “Can I see your permit? ” he asked. “Which one? My domestic Master Blasters permit? My International Certificates? Or my certified ISEE permits? ” I ask. He just shakes his head. “No one who doesnt hold all that cant just make that up on the spot. Sorry to detain you, sir. Have a nice trip. ” “Not a problem, officer. “, I repeat, “Thanks for checking. I feel better out driving on these lonely roads knowing theyre being well looked after. ” “With your arsenal? ” he laughs. “Thanks, sir. You have a good one now. ” “I will, good morning to you, sir! ” I say brightly, spark up my cigar, take a pull on my Dr. Pepper, and fire up my truck. He pulls out and it gone in a trice. I just chalk it up to the way things have been going of late and head back down the road, into the wilds of the American Southwest. Dawn is breaking behind me as the sun slowly slouches up over the prairie behind me. I reach for my sunglasses and find out that, yep, I forgot the damned things. Looks like we just had our glitch for this mission. No way I can drive with that bright fusing ball of thermonuclear hydrogen chasing me all day. A few miles down the road is another truck stop. I wheel in, park, and look around hoping to find a pair of decent cheap sunglasses. They are either decent. Or theyre cheap. And I seriously doubt ‘Ray-Ban is spelled with two ‘ns. I find a decent pair and cough up the 75. Oh, well, the Agencys going to get this as field expenses. Perhaps they might have real Ray-Bans here… Back on the road, Im working on the remaining Dr. Pepper and see my bag of chicken crispies is almost empty. Been snacking in overdrive, I think. Oh, well. I drift past Ozona headed toward Fort Stockton. Im making such good time, I decide to take a break around Fort Stockton and grab some real breakfast. I need to stretch as well, damn stupid backs barking from all the road miles. Its only about three or so hours from Fort Stockton to El Paso, so Ive got loads of time. I find a local Ma and Pa roadside cantina. Normally I detest Tex-Mex chow, but theres just something about breakfast burritos with chorizo and beef jerky. Its a Texas thing. I stop in and its still fairly quiet. A few locals fueling up for the day, and me. I find a table and ask for a menu. The matronly waitress asks if Id like coffee. “Ive had enough coffee for a while” I smile back, “Sure could do with a cold beer, though. ” I was joking about that, but after I place my order for 3 breakfast burritos with salsa verde, she returns with a frosty mug of beer. Im not about to argue. Its cold, its here, and its whats for breakfast. My breakfast arrives and I request another cold one. This is complied with almost immediately. The burritos transport me back to the New Mexico Cuba Café and their magistra with breakfast fusion chow. The food is good, hot and above all, filling. I was rapidly becoming blissed. I elect that a single further beer wont hurt, but decided against it. I still have several hours of driving ahead of me. The bill comes and I pay the extortionate price of 7. I leave a fiver as a tip. The food and service were that good. Back on the road, its going to be a warm day. Window part-way down, I fire up another stogie, and head generally westward. I have a reservation at the Super 9 Motel in El Paso. I wheel into town around 1300 hours and realize Im a bit early to check-in. However, I decided to give it a go. I have nowhere else to be until later that evening. The hotel was quiet, but my room was ready. Normally, check-in wasnt until 1500, but since I was already here and the room had been serviced, they allowed me to. I stashed the shotgun in the lockable toolbox in the bed of the truck, under the step-cap. I brought the Casull into my room and locked it in the room safe. I also dragged in my cooler, cigars, and other assorted necessary paraphernalia. Being able to park right in front of your hotel door made things easy. I locked my truck, set the alarm, for whatever good that would do, and locked the room door behind me. Its wasnt a suite at the Ritz, but it was clean, serviceable and cheap. I dont always have to have the Executive Suite on the top floor. Im used to this kind of lodging, remembering back to my Grad school days where I longed for a hotel room as I sat in my tent, being pummeled by a high desert thunderstorm. I called a local cab company to take me down to the border around 1900 hours. No way I was driving across to Mexico and leaving my truck there. Its bad enough that I have to leave it here in The Pass unguarded. Plus, I might just possibly have a sip or two while Im south of the border. No need to drive after something like that. I take a long, hot shower and flake out for a couple of hours kip. It might be a late-night tonight, and I need to give my back some rest. Luckily, the hotel mattress is made of granodiorite, or so it seemed. I prefer a hard mattress to a soft one, like the ones that usually accompany a suite wherever I go. But this was even a bit unyielding, even for me. Didnt matter. I was out like a light in 5 minutes. I wake after a couple of hours and see that Ive got just enough time to get everything in apple-pie order before I head to Ciudad Juarez. There is so much to see and do in Ciudad Juarez. Es maravilloso! One could visit the Benito Juarez Monument, or go to the Revolucion en la Frontera Museum, or visit the Archeology Museum, or see the Paquime UNESCO World Heritage Site. One could head south to the stunning white sand dunes of the Salamayuca Desert or tour La Parque Central. Yeah, thats not going to happen. Im going to visit my old friend Martín who owns “ Grandes putos cigarros ” down on Camino del Tabaco in Ciudad Juarez. Ill probably hang around his shop while his employees whip up a custom box of smokes for me. Then, if the evening proceeds as usual, Ill take Martín out to dinner. Hell take me around town and well go to several cantinas trying out different locally indigenous beverages. After this, Martín will try to get me to go to some of the quaint anatomical and animal shows down along Tourist Street (Juarez Avenue. Then well end up at the “World Famous Kentucky Club”, trying to avoid scams, fights, naughty ladies of the evening, and other forms of semi-dangerous adult entertainment. After which, Ill pour Martín into a cab and Ill head back north across the border. Its become a tradition every time Im in this neck of the woods. Its exhausting. Well, best get going… I cab it down to the border and walk across. No passport necessary at this time, my Texas Drivers License suffices. Once across the border, I spark up a cigar; down here, I think thats the law, and hail a cab. Once the flying metal settles down, and the car fires are doused, I choose the least wrecked looking taxi and hope the driver speaks English a bit or I can follow his Juarez Español. I negotiate a fare, part with a cigar, and head off to Martíns. The evening has begun. Martíns shop is a hole in the wall, which belies its grandness. Unobtrusive outside, once in theres a large series of walk-in humidors, some heavily overstuffed chairs to sit and savor a cigar, and several walls full of lockers where like-minded folks keep their cigars. The whole shop is one huge humidor. In back is where the magic happens. He has a dozen or so folks who are tobacco masters, hand-rolling cigars. Several are Cuban, who have immigrated to Mexico for this very job. Theyve trained several others in the intricacies of creating unique cigars. They have a radio blaring Mexican Top-40 tunes, which seems to set some form of cadence. Its low-tech, low-overhead, and highest quality. Martín shows me around and introduces me to some of the older tobacco masters. He is proud to show me all the different styles and sorts of cigars his folks can create. Candela, Connecticut, Cameroon, English Market Selection, Colorado, Maduro, or Oscuro wrappers. Short or long filler. Tobacco from around the world, and styles of stogies and sizes to match. After a bit of looking around, I decide I want a couple-three of boxes of Maduro Double Churchills. 60 ring-gauge (60 divisions per inch of ring) 8. 5” in length and dark and oily as can be. Today, a box like this would be easily 300, if not more. Here I am paying US100 for three boxes of 25. I pay Martín and give him my hotel information. He assures me theyll be delivered to my hotel before I leave for New Mexico. In fact, it was this sort of affair where Martín and I became friends. I was down on a deer hunting trip some years before. It was much wilder and woolier then as Juarez was just another border town. Lots of drugs, lots of gangs, lots of violence. Martín was struggling to make his cigar shop something different. Something legal, something high-quality and high-class. Being new, he didnt keep much in the line of stock, instead, he had it created, de novo, by workers in the back. To be continued….

 

You could not pay me anuff to get up there and clean the windows. Sorry for the lost. Fuckin antisemitic twats. What I find depressing is how all the good ideas and best intentions of how to live more harmoniously in the world have become weaponised and turned against us. In fact it's so well done that people are gagging for their own enslavement. Local economies, ecological design principles, developing resilience in the face of natural climate change and the rest, makes sense, but it's all been co-opted and corrupted...

He said 2 or 3 years and ill retire damn and the next year he was killed. First, Previous, Next (Coming Soon) “Hes so cool. So handsome. ” “He must be an idol or something. Look at his eyes! ” Goemons magnetism for attention as they rode the train into central Osaka was not aiding their efforts to blend in at all. They stood by the doors between long benches of seats either side of the train where groups of girls sat, giggling and pointing. Jesse tried to stay concealed behind Goemons bulk, tightening the draw strings on her hooded jumper. Along with her large sunglasses, it made sure her face was well hidden. Goemon had been loving every second of their foray into this strange new world, but now he was sweating and pale green, hardly even able to speak. How could someone who could basically fly feel motion sickness? “Jesse, its the next stop, ” the priest said directly into her head. It was such a strange feeling. Goemon nodded with effort. Merlins magic was, for a change, working. But it didnt sit well with her. Jesse felt a mix of emotions. Anger. Relief. Frustration. She had almost agreed with Goemon when he suggested throwing Merlin back in the tomb along with the corpse of the giant. He hadnt been joking. Merlin had found a weapon, but in the process of doing so, nearly killed them all, unleashing something not only evil, but incredibly powerful. A Demon, no less. In typical Merlin fashion he had then revealed to her the extent of his troubles, what he had been holding back. It wasnt just his magic, but rather the whole worlds magic that was in peril. It was a lot to take in. It always was. But that wasnt the worst of it. She had taken a life. It had happened so quick she was still confused. She saved Taro from certain death. She made the right choice, she was sure. But the man had been possessed; an innocent soul for all she knew. She had cried as Merlin said a prayer and Goemon tossed his body to the roots. “He would probably thank you for freeing him, Jesse. ” Merlin had said, but it didnt help the guilt. It was only made worse by the memory of the rushing relief as his life had flooded into her, easing the pain from the missing piece, and making her crave more. There had been no silver lining to the incident, nothing surfacing from beyond the veil in her mind. Her memories it seemed, were more firmly locked away than ever. The phone in Jesses pocket rumbled, distracting her from her conflicting thoughts. Pulling it out, she looked at the screen. “From what I and Excalibur can sense, the Demon is somewhere in this area, ” Merlins voice rattled around in her head. The screen highlighted a mapped area, full of narrow roads and shops. “Exit the next stop and leave the station, ” the priest said. Merlins disastrous attempt at using his power had afforded one breakthrough, however. When he had transformed Kuma he had realised something, a connection between magic and the conflicting powers of technology. Taking an old phone of the priests he had been experimenting with, and while holding Jesses hand, he had been able to make it ‘spark to life, as he called it. Now he could connect to and control it from afar, see everything they could and more. The phones screen had a strange blue hue spilling from the edges like leaking gas. Across the back were blue and red pulsing veins. The battery remained firmly at 100. “This contraption, ” he had excitedly declared, “however small, marks the first joining of technology and magic. A true marvel, and a hope for the future. ” It allowed Merlin to be with them, without being there, which was perfect. He had wanted to come, but Jesse had refused. She couldnt risk it. W ouldnt risk it. Even leaving him at the temple with the priest had filled her with dread. At least Kuma was there now. Kuma: It truly had been a miracle. On a whim she had tried to connect with the canine, for Taros sake, not expecting anything. But it had worked, and the pure feelings she had felt radiating from the beasts heart had been almost too beautiful to believe. It was like nothing she had never felt before. Without a doubt, the dog was now as bound to her as much as Goemon was and possessed a transformation just as terrifying. Before they had departed he had happily transformed to reach and lick her face with a huge slimy tongue, before switching back to his smaller size in an instant, wagging his tail excitedly in a way that said, ” hey, look what I can do! ” There was no question of him joining them. As strong as his bond was to Jesse, it was nothing for what the beast felt for Taro. He would never leave his side. So now she had an uncontrollable and dangerous wizard, a kind of bird-man beast samurai, and a dog that could transform into a monstrous super-wolf. She sighed. It felt like she wasnt quite doing this right, but it was better than being alone. “Tenjinbashi-roku-choume, Tenjinbashi-roku-choume, ashi moto go chui kudasai” The train speakers announced their arrival at the station. ‘Tenjinbashi-roku-choume station: just north of the heart of Osaka. The train ride had only been 30 minutes, but the scenery had quickly transformed from sprawling country side to urban metropolis. The only thing Goemon had recognised aside from the creek in the mountains was the wide river they had crossed before arriving at the station. The dark shimmering water had made his eyes momentarily flash with excitement, before closing as the train rocked from side to side. The temple, Merlin and the others, were back in Minoh, a city in the North of the prefecture. The temple was deep in the mountains, nestled along a winding creek that led to the waterfall they had heard while escaping the tomb. Jesse looked around, spotting foreigners of all kinds among the crowds. No doubt they would be holidaying, sightseeing, having fun, maybe even venturing to the waterfall. And Jesse, what was she here to do? To kill. Again. The thought sent shivers down her spine. What was she becoming? And the Demon, if he kept body skipping, what would she do? Just keep killing? The feeling of wanting to run away crept in her thoughts, but she couldnt. She had helped Merlin escape the tomb. She had forced him to try and find the weapon. It was her fault, and she had to deal with it. Besides, it wasnt even a choice; there was no one else. People bustled past her hurriedly, making Goemon and her flow with the crowd towards the steps leading up and away from the platform. Jesse gripped Excaliburs hilt in her pocket, willing herself to stay calm. The sword had shrunk down to just its base, Goemons doing the same, much to his disappointment. “Excalibur can choose its form, ” Merlin had reminded them as it had shrunk conveniently into her palm. The crowds rose up the stairs and out in the night air. It was cooler than the day, but still warm. The smell of food filled their senses. People rushed all around, busy and uninterested in her and Goemon as they made their way home from work or dinner. Bright lights shone from the buildings surrounding them, causing Goemons neck to arch back and stay there, frozen in awe. “Across the street is the Shoutengai. Go there, ” the priest said. Glancing across the intersection that was next to where they had emerged, she could see a large arched entrance that jutted out from under a tall building. Bright lights and shops beckoned within. After patiently waiting for the lights to change, they crossed and entered the high-ceilinged space. Inside, the long arcade stretched far away into the distance, curving out of view near the end. Following the phones directions, they walked through, Jesses nerves and Goemons wonder at everything making the pace slow. Shops, restaurants and strange places passed them by as noise assaulted them from all directions. Adverts and music, noisy arcade like buildings, karaoke bars and pachinko parlours. Shop staff stood in their way and greeted them with a bow, coaxing to them to go inside. All the smells were getting to Goemon, who was salivating as he stared lovingly through the windows and counters, lagging behind. Jesse was too nervous to really take in her surroundings, instead focusing on the phone and the map. The few times she had made eye-contact with the workers in their path she had felt compelled to awkwardly bow as they did. They had been slowly making their way down the arcade for 10 minutes, and still it meandered onward. Merlin suddenly spoke. “Turn here, Jesse. Go down the small alleyway to the left. Stop somewhere and wait for a moment. He is close. ” To Jesses left was a narrow alley, with a small shop serving small dumpling like balls straight on to the street. They entered the alley, coming to a stop a bit further down by a standing-bar. They stepped up onto the small deck that was bordered by a rail. A western-looking man with dread-locked hair nodded politely as they did, and the barman came to their attention, offering a small bow. Jesse responded in kind. Goemon stared for a moment at the dread-locked man, appraising him with a raised eyebrow, before turning to the barman. “One beer, and tea for my girlfriend. ” He smiled as he spoke, which turned into a laugh as he saw Jesses face go red. “You need to relax, J, ” he said as they received their drinks, along with a chilled towel. How could she relax? Her heart was thundering inside her chest. The Demon was nearby. There were so many people. She would be seen. What if… “Oi, ” Goemon said as he grabbed her shoulder and bent down to look her in the eye, “youre not alone. Im with you. It will be OK. ” “Im fine, G, really I am. Dont worry about me. ” With a slap on Jesses shoulder he turned back to the bar, swigging his beer as he lent back on the rail, wiping his forehead with the towel. Using the letters of their names instead of the full ones was a precaution, but it sounded so weird and forced. Even Goemons name, the priest had said, would attract attention. Jesse nervously played with Excaliburs hilt in her pocket. It tingled to her touch, as if the sword itself were also anticipating the worst. “Youre Japanese is better than mine! Where are you from? ” the barman asked as he took a note from what Goemon had left on the bar; only a small portion of what the priest had given them. Before she could reply however, there was a sudden rush of bodies behind. A dozen men in suits swept through. “Yakuza, ” the barman said, his face drawn with worry, “lots of Yakuza. Something is happening. ” The man at the end of the bar nodded. He seemed to be staring intently at Jesse and checking his phone. Had he realised who she was, or was Jesse letting her paranoia get the better of her? Before she could do anything but nervously smile, there was another rushing of feet down the alley. This time, it was not men in suits, but in uniform. Police. “Yep, might need to close up early tonight. ” The barman said with a wry smile. “The Demon is located further down in the alley. Hes possessed a gang member of some kind. There are many of his people with him, drinking at a bar that opens into the street. Be careful, Jesse. These men are dangerous. ” It was Merlins voice. Somehow he was looking ahead. Goemon finished his beer. “Lets go take a closer look. ” They waited a moment before departing, and then went down the alley. It was like a maze of interconnecting paths and roads that kept to no pattern, leading into a different world. People were drinking, eating and laughing everywhere. Hanging lights and lanterns provided soft light that gave the place a warm and cosy aura; completely at odds with how Jesse felt. Various pieces of music played from the myriad of vendors while delicious smells of cooked meat and other food filled the space with a mouth-watering fragrance. As they ventured further down however, the number of patrons became less, the noise dying out. More shops were closed, people hurriedly moving away in the other direction. Then they saw the policemen coming back their way. Oddly, they were smiling, laughing and completely relaxed. “Lets get a beer or something guys, no problems here. ” Goemon and Jesse exchanged glances. Goemon knew the law when he saw it, and was just as bemused as her. As they watched the men pass, Jesse felt like she was wading through cold and thick fog. “This feeling, ” Goemon said, “is the Demon. Its just like when he tried to possess me. ” It became thicker as they walked on, turning a corner to see a large group of suited men sprawled around some outside seating of a bar that had a Hawaiian theme. They were loud, laughing and drinking heartily. The staff looked scared. All the other shops were empty. Around the street, a few men lay badly beaten and bruised. Goemon pulled her out of view as they looked on. Merlins voice buzzed in their heads. “This kind of Demon strives for power, constantly skipping between those it finds superior; it is no surprise he has found such men. He can assume their power, their knowledge, their skills, their very identities. Others are drawn to him. A master manipulator. Proceed carefully. ” It looked to be true. The men around him seemed to hang on his every word as he spat them loudly between gulps of drink. Every now and he would turn to a man slumped back in a chair behind him, punching him harshly across the face to cheers of the others. Blood trickled freely from the mans head and swollen cheeks. Jesse wasnt even sure if he was still alive. Like a robot a young waitress neared the table where he sat, passing more drinks to the men. Her expression was blank and unblinking. “We can't just stand here while he hurts people. We have to help, ” Jesse said. Now was probably the best chance they were going to get. Few bystanders. Few witnesses. Best of all, they all seemed to be gang members. A lack of innocence definitely helped Jesses conscience. “That body he possesses looks like an ordinary man. ” Goemon said. “Do not be fooled, Goemon. ” said Merlin, “Demon of his ilk possess many powers. ” The comment didnt stop Goemon, who stepped confidently out, ignoring Merlins warning. Jesse followed. Almost immediately the Demons head lifted. He stopped talking and stood. “My friends, it appears we have visitors. ” Without a word, the men around him turned to face her in one smooth motion, and then remained completely still, as if frozen. “Goemon, Ill go for the main guy. You fly in and get that injured man out of there. He doesnt look like hell last much longer. Get the other guys who are hurt, too. ” Goemon breezed past, his hair and skin igniting in a flurry of black and golden feathers as he seemed to float before zipping away. A blast of wind hit the tables where the men sat, sending them flying and sprawling to the ground. In a flash, the man who had been seated behind them was gone, and Goemon was back, depositing him beside Jesse. Goemon stumbled as he let them down, clutching his head. Black blood dripped from his nose. “The bastard is doing something, ” he said between grunts, “the closer you get, the more you feel it. Argh! ” Goemon cried out in pain. “He is growing in power, Jesse. ” Merlin said through their connection. The sound was distorted, as if being disrupted by another, stronger signal. “Can you do something, Merlin? ” Jesse asked. “I, er, I…” It was probably better not to ask. “Goemon, get the other guys and stay with them, ” Jesse said as she began to walk forward. The Demons eyes were wide as he recognised her despite her guise, the smile fading from his face into a hard frown. “Tell me, little princess, how many people are you willing to kill? ” Jesse didnt reply. “Let us see. Get her, ” he ordered. Jesse grasped Excaliburs hilt. She only wanted to use it on the Demon. “Excalibur lend me your power, but no armour, no sword. Not yet. ” She tried to relax, to feel the power as it surged through her. Follow it, she told herself. The men rushed forward. The one nearest threw a punch, she ducked, ramming her fist into his stomach. Lifting off the ground he slammed heavily into a nearby shop grate. The next, seeing how easily his ally had been thrown, thought better of his fists, producing a small knife he slashed at Jesse as she rose. It passed her face and she grabbed the mans arm. Spinning round and leaning her weight into a throw, she let go, his arm snapping as he tumbled over the ground. Against Goemon, her strength had seemed almost normal. Now she could see that she was much stronger; the man had felt near weightless. It filled her with confidence. Something else was tingling at the edge of her perception, a sense of those round her and how they moved, like a pressure in the air. Was this something from Goemon? She darted forward. 5 more men. The Demon just stood, watching. Then he smiled. Like a thousand children crying in chorus, a scream erupted in Jesses mind, as if their high-pitched voices were vibrating red-hot barbed-wires that were dragging through her brain. She stumbled, falling to the floor as a boot of the nearest thug reached her stomach. Slam. “Just who are you…” The air rushed out of her. She heard the Demons voice, a crawling whisper in her head. “Kind of empty in here, isnt it? Hahaha…” Jesse jumped up, blocking a blow to the head. Her hood flew back, hair whipping around her face as her sunglasses flew off. Aiming for a chin, she threw her weight upwards, striking hard. The man left the ground as she spun to face the next. But she was a second too late. Bang. A shot rang out. Searing pain ripped through her stomach. Jesse fell back. A gust of wind sailed past her as she felt Goemons arms wrapping around her body. More shots. Thud. With incredible speed they returned to the end of the alley, landing next to the men Goemon had saved. Jesse looked down. Around her mid-section, gold armour swelled and glowed in pulses, bright spots dotted through it marking where the bullets had entered. “Jesse, I was unable to stop all of the damage, ” Excalibur said, “you are hurt, we must retreat. ” “Im shot? ” Jesse said in disbelief. How stupid. Of course they would have guns. Goemon too, was in pain, slumping beside her and clutching his side. Looking across at him, she was suddenly overcome at how futile everything seemed. Excalibur was no match for bullets. No match for a Demon who could control peoples minds. What was she even doing here? Was this all a joke? The men slowly approached, their guns still drawn. Moving in for the kill. The pain in Jesses head still throbbed with every strained beat of her heart, growing in intensity as the Demon strode through his men. Suddenly, he stopped. “What the hell are you idiots doing? ” A voice roared from behind the group. Alone, a man approached. Tall and slim, he was well-dressed in a sleek black suit. He wore no tie on a bright red silk shirt, unbuttoned towards the colour to reveal a thick gold necklace over complex tattoos. A pony tail pulled back his slick hair down wide shoulders. His eyes were alive with fury set in a gaunt face that was sharp and jagged, the cheek bones high and prominent. His voice boomed through the men. “Jesse, you need to get out of there, now! ” Merlin shouted, his voice in a panic. From the mans side, he drew a long blade that slid slowly from its holder, a note of pure misery playing as the sword scrapped against the sheath. Jesses heart lurched in her chest as a deep sorrow engulfed her, silencing the screeching that had been in its place. “Thats it, thats the sword. Its…. ” Merlins voice crackled and disappeared. The sword. All Jesse could do was watch as the Demon turned to face the man. Panic flared in his eyes. “Shoot him! Shoot him now! ” he yelled at the men around him, who suddenly began to move on their own accord, staring around as if confused as to what was happening. “Okamoto Kumicho! ” they said, dropping to the ground and bowing deep, their heads touching the floor. Kumicho: the head of a Yakuza group. Jesse stared as the translation worked in her head. As if things couldnt get any worse. These men were all part of the Japanese mafia, and this man, their boss. “Shoot me? ” Okamoto shouted, “I am their leader. I am your leader! I took you from nothing and made you the man you are, Okajima! And this is how you repay me? By starting a war? By rampaging across half of Osaka and then doing this? What have you done? ” The beautiful sword was now fully out from its sheath, reflecting the lights in the small alley down its length. As the mans rage grew, the sword seemed to shine brighter. The Demon was looking around, as if trying to find someone to flee to. Jesse felt it too. Okamotos gaze seemed to lock all those it gazed upon in place, his aura paralyzing them in fear. It seeped down the alley to her: the most pure and horrific evil she had evil felt. She wanted to run, but could not, her body crying out at the slightest of movement as her strength failed her. Goemon lay next to her, passed out but breathing. They both needed help. This was no fairy tale; she had got shot. What did she think was going to happen? How naive had she been? Was she going to die here? Sharp pain began to meet her strained breathing as she failed to tear her gaze away from Okamoto. The sword he held seemed to call out to her, mocking her with waves of energy that rocked her like tides at sea, each one viler than the last. That evil thing was meant to be her salvation. Her only hope. The thought of joining with such a weapon made her want to vomit. There just had to be another way. “Die! ” Okamoto shouted as he sprang forward. He moved in a flash, the sword swinging out as it cut through the air towards the Demon, who didnt move. Couldnt move. The Demons body exploded into a cloud around the man as the sword ran through him. As if trying to run, the cloud burst in Jesses direction, only to be drawn back in as the sword twisted around. Okajimas eyes went black. “Okajima! What the hell is this? ” Okamoto shouted. “Kumicho…forgive me. ” Okajima hissed through his teeth as the blackness rippled over his eyes. Black smoke began to fizz and hiss over the exposed parts of the sword, smoke burning from it as the cloud was drawn in. Okajima fell away to the floor as the last wisps of smoke trialled up the sword and into the hilt. Jesse swore she heard the Demon scream as a black sheen glimmered over the swords surface, and then disappeared. Okamoto dropped to his knees, breathing hard and sweating. His eyes were open and wild. “This power…, ” he whispered. One of the men ran to his aid. “Kumicho…” he squealed. The sword flickered, and the man fell. “You have all betrayed me! ” Okamoto screamed as he rose. Panicked yells rang out in the alley as each man perished in quick order, hardly moving as Okamoto dispatched them one by one. Then he turned to her. Jesse blinked, her eyes failing. She was exhausted, could barely even keep them open. The armour that covered her in places was fading. “Excalibur…” she called with her mind, but there was no answer. There was simply too much damage. “You…I know you, ” Okamoto said as he approached. Specks of blood covered his face, matching the deep red of his shirt. “The girl from TV…but more than that. You called to me. Your sword…” He pointed at her hand that clutched Excaliburs hilt. “You were looking for us, ” he said, running his fingers across the blade as blood dripped from it to the floor. As he fingers trailed off the end he pointed the sword at her. His eyes flicked to Goemon, drawn to the feathers that were retreating down his neck and growing around the place of his injuries. “What the hell is all of this? ” Okamoto whispered. “Yoshinori! ” a voice broke out behind him. An old man approached, followed by several men who kept their distance, weapons drawn as they stepped through the bodies on the street. He had a long white beard that fell to the breast of a pure white kimono. Calm seemed to radiate from him as he bowed his head, only a little more than a nod. “Tsukasa, ” Okamoto hissed, ” I have dealt with this. Justice has been served. ” “I wouldnt call this, Justice. Put your sword away, Yoshi, ” Tsukasa said, “if you can. ” Tsukasas gaze was firmly on Okamotos blade, as if he couldnt look away. At his own waist was an almost identical but smaller version that remained sheathed. Tsukasa gripped it tightly. Okamoto scowled, but slowly began to bring the sword around, placing the tip at the edge of the scabbards entrance. He didnt even look as his fingers guided it into position, keeping his gaze on Tsukasa. It paused at the rim. Okamotos arm jerked and spasmed as he began to groan. A low rumble emanated through the alley as a wind swept through, bustling around his body. “Argggghhh! ” Okamoto screamed, slamming the sword into the scabbard with a high-pitched whine of steel. The heavy aura that had pervaded through the space was suddenly gone. Okamotos deep breaths were rough against the silence. His hand dropped away from the hilt, bloody and raw. The men behind Tsukasa ran to the aid of the young man who lay next to Goemon, also helping the others who had regained consciousness. Tsukasa nodded to Jesse and Goemon too, and then men helped prop them up from the floor. “What are you doing, old man, ” Okamoto spoke, his voice low and tired. “Taking them with me. If the boy survives, war may be avoided. If he dies…” “You would dare go to war with me? You would risk everything? Who is he? ” “I would have no choice, old friend. Daisuke is the son of a prominent family. They hold great power within the Kazeyama-kumi. We live and die by the rules, Yoshi. Even you and I. ” “Tsukasa…I am so close to our dream. Dont do this. ” “Your dream, old friend. It is out of my hands. ” Tsukasa said, looking down. Okamoto didnt answer. He looked at Jesse. “Why is she here? ” Tsukasa looked over toward Jesse. If he was surprised, nothing was betrayed on his face. “If she had not been, Daisuke would be dead. We both owe them our gratitude. ” “But she is the girl from TV…she has power…they were looking for me…” Okamoto trailed off, a look of confusion coming over his face. He shook, shaking his head and standing straight, regaining composure before he spoke again. “Do as you must. I will await your decision. If there is war, you know what will happen. ” “I do. ” Tsukasa fixed his gaze on Jesse and simply nodded as Okamoto walked past. The men behind quickly moved out of his way as he went through, jumping into a car at the end of the alley and speeding off. Jesse was fading. Fast. Darkness reached from their edges of her vision. The pain didnt even seem that bad anymore. She felt down to where it was, and lifted her hands. Slick red ran off her fingers. “Miyakegawa Kumicho, we must move. The police are coming. ” Tsukasa nodded, and Jesse felt herself being lifted as she closed her eyes. “Jesse! Jesse! Can you hear me? Are you ok? ” Merlins voice suddenly shouted in her mind. Jesse gave in to the warm feeling spreading through her body and fell into its dark embrace. First, Previous, Next (Coming Soon.

Windows on the World Watch Full length. 9 wins & 1 nomination. See more awards  » Edit Storyline On the morning of September 11, 2001, Fernando and his family in Mexico watch the news in horror as the Twin Towers collapse. His father, Balthazar, is an undocumented busboy on the top floor in the Windows on the World restaurant. Three weeks pass, and there is no word from Balthazar. No telephone calls, money orders, or hope that he is alive. As the family grieves, feeling the emotional and financial toll of their absent patriarch, Fernando's distraught mother swears she sees her husband on news footage - escaping from the building ALIVE. Heroic Fernando decides to take the epic journey from Mexico to New York City to find his father and save his family. Along the way, he finds love and befriends an eclectic group of international characters that help him restore his faith in humanity, as Fernando discovers the hard truths about his father, the melting pot of America, and the immigrant experience. Plot Summary, Add Synopsis Taglines: Faith. Love. Family. Hope. It's inside of us all... Details Release Date: 3 March 2019 (USA) See more  » Also Known As: Windows on the World Company Credits Technical Specs See full technical specs  ».

Windows on the world watch full length film. Windows on the World Watch Full lengthy. “Ive never seen anything like this in my entire life” Dude, thankfully you were not in New York during 9/11, and if you were, maybe you were sleeping. New show every Sunday 9pm. LIVE SHOW HERE on You Tube Every Wednesday 8pm. You can find out more about us and our archive at You can support us and get special interest content at Patreon. Windows on the world watch full length movie. Some nice video footage there! 👍. Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 Extra: 1, 2 I had thought that dealing with Riley and Fife would have been similar to Lia. That couldnt have been further from the truth, the two of them and who they were working with were intelligent. They werent just going to attack us head-on if they could use other means. And they had those other means, they knew how to utilize the rules of the tradition to their advantage. They could predict what we were going to do and respond accordingly. They werent in a rush…they were willing to play the long game if they had to. Time was not on our side in this situation. The longer we waited, the more the scales tipped into Riley and Fifes favor. With the drug-addled junkies closing in on us from all sides, I looked around for a way to escape. I could hear people on the streets beginning to panic. The attack had caused fear in people, but it didnt look like wed be getting any help for our situation. There were only five people around us, but their spacing made getting through them impossible without coming within arms length. Eri pointed her hand at the ground, and the purple glow from it once again pulsed. The air around us seemed to warp and distort. I watched as our five attackers suddenly were lifted off of their feet and into the air. It wasnt only them however, as a car parked beside us began lifting off of the ground too as well as anything else that wasnt held to the ground. Even the rain falling around us stopped and floated, forming bubbles in the air. It was the first time I had seen her pull this trick out. It would have been fairly comedic, seeing people struggle to move as they were levitating in the air. Given the circumstances, I couldnt get a good laugh out of it. For whatever reason, I was able to keep my feet planted to the ground. Eri and I rushed past the assailants and towards her car. When we reached it, I looked back to see gravity correct itself, and everything that was floating fall back to the ground with a crash. “Shit! ” I heard Eri say. Turning to see what happened, I saw our attackers had gotten to the car and slashed all of its tires. It seems like they werent planning on letting us get away that easy. I saw the hooded man sprinting at us, knife held high in the air. As he brought it down, I pushed Eri aside and held up my hand. The knife tore into my palm, stabbing through so I could see the blade sticking out of the back of my hand. I cried out in pain as I wound back my other hand and delivered a punch to the mans nose. He reamed back, blood flowing freely from his nostrils, a look of pure bliss on his face. I looked at my hand, the knife still embedded into it, ripping it out I tossed it to the ground. Seeing the blood and rain mixing together, dripping down my hand, I felt my vision start to pulse. The world around me was starting to tint red, I blinked, but the tint grew stronger. “Feel their love! Let it envelop you in its warm embrace! ” The hooded man yelled. I wondered what the hell was happening to me, then looking down at the knife, I realized it. It was the same knife the man had cut his tongue open with, his blood coating part of the blade. His blood must have got into my body. It was causing me to suffer the effects of the Tigers Blood. Another man charged towards me, wielding a rust-coated crowbar. Right before he got close enough to swing, he got blasted back, flying through the driver's side window of a nearby car. I could Eri starting to pant behind me. A woman charged towards us, knife in hand. She too was blasted away, her body tumbling across the asphalt and coming to a stop when she crashed into a light post. Both of them got back to their feet, even though they must have broken bones and were bleeding. They showed no sign they were in any pain whatsoever. It felt like the only way we would be able to stop them would be to kill them or break their bodies enough that fighting back was impossible. I began to feel the pain in my body subside, replaced instead by this strange but enjoyable sensation. To think that even just trace amounts of the drug could subject you to its effects was a scary thought. I needed to get it out of my system, on top of that, we needed to get away from these maniacs. But we had no option to run, no a fight with them was going to be unavoidable. It was then I heard a scream from down the street, looking towards it. I saw that a couple of the assailants had gotten distracted with two pedestrians. A mother and her teenage daughter. The woman with the nail bat was relentlessly beating the mother on the ground. Each strike hitting a place where it wouldnt be lethal but would cause excruciating pain. While the daughter was being dragged off by another man towards a parked van. It was happening again, my mind going back to the events at the university. More innocent people were being attacked and murdered, and I was going to do nothing about it. Eri darted past me, she raised her hand up to the hooded mans chest. The purple glow around it intensified, the man looked down a smirk on his face, as he went soaring through the air and through the display window of a nearby clothing store. I could see that Eri was running towards the mother and daughter, she must have felt at fault for them being in danger. These drug addicts were here for her anyhow, of course she would feel guilty for others being put in danger because of her. I watched the man with the crowbar, and the knife-wielding woman chased after Eri. What was I doing? The thought pervaded into my mind. Was I just going to sit here and do nothing? Eri was clearly getting tired, what if her powers gave out? Was I just going to stand by while she got killed? No…I couldnt keep doing nothing. Not when there was something I could do about. Id flush this drug from my system, and at the same time Id stop being a coward for once. I ran towards Eri, she was already a ways down the street. The man and woman were much closer to her than I was, in just a few moments they would be on top of her. I had to move faster, I pushed myself harder and felt my body becoming lighter. I slammed my shoulder into the woman knocking her and bolted in front of the man as he was swinging down his crowbar at Eri. I grabbed the crowbar and held it back. “Kevin? ” Eri looked over at me, puzzled. “You go help them, I can handle these two. ” I said. Eri nodded to me and continued down the street. The woman got up and charged at me and shoved the knife into my stomach, twisting it into my guts. Crimson soaking through the fabric of my shirt. It didnt feel painful, it felt invigorating. It was time to give it what it wanted. I used my free hand and grasped the woman by her throat, feeling my skin beginning to peel apart, the black fur sprouting out from beneath. My bones and muscles beginning to shift and alter my flesh. My clothing beginning to tear and fall from my body as it grew too large to be contained by them. I found myself growing taller and taller, now looking down at my would-be killers. My hand turned to a claw, ever so slightly digging into the womans neck. My mouth jutted forward into a muzzle, saliva trickled down from my new mouth as my lips curled into a snarl. The red tint in my vision being replaced by a drab-colored world. I ripped the crowbar from the mans hands and slammed the back of it across his face. As he stumbled back, I threw it at him, watching it slam into his chest and send him collapsing to the ground. I lifted the woman up off of the ground and raised my claw, readying to pierce it into her stomach and rip out whatever I grasped. Before I followed through with the attack, I stopped. I couldnt follow through with the attack and kill the woman. Feeling all of the rage and bloodlust pumping through my veins was a drug not dissimilar to what affected them. To destroy them would have filled me with nothing but satisfaction. It was what the wolf thrived on…bloodshed. I couldnt let it have full control, and if I killed even one of them…I didnt know if I would be able to hold myself back. I just needed to incapacitate them. I tightened my grip on the womans neck. Making sure not to gouge my claws into the supple flesh of her neck. Instead choking her until I saw her consciousness fade. Tossing her onto the ground, I turned my attention to the man who was getting up, he picked up his crowbar and charged at me. They showed no sign of being afraid in the slightest. No pain, no fear, complete obedience. This drug would seem to have made the perfect soldier. To think at one point, these people were just ordinary. To think it was this easy for them to lose themselves. As the man swung the crowbar at me, I caught his arm at the elbow. I bent his arm back, causing the bone to pierce through his skin. The man didnt cry in pain as he shouldve, instead moaning with delight. I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up, preparing to choke him out the same as the woman. There was a sudden sharp pain by my neck, as I turned to see the hooded man had returned with his knife dug deep into my collar bone. The hooded man had jumped onto my back. He pulled the knife out and stabbed it in again and again. Cackling the entire time, blood spraying out from the wound onto his face. I howled out in pain and tossed the man I was holding across the street. I grasped the hooded man and threw him overhead onto the ground. Slamming his back against the asphalt. His head hit the concrete from the force of the throw, knocking him out. I gritted my teeth and dragged the hooded mans unconscious body up off of the ground. This burning hatred filled my mind. My lips curled back and drool spilled down my mouth as my maw widened to take a bite out of his neck. I stopped myself right before biting down, dropping the hooded man to the ground, and stepping back from him. I was starting to feel my mind being torn away from me. It was beginning to take everything I had not to give in to my animalistic desires. I couldnt lose myself, I had to put a stop to it. Before I lost control of myself. I took a look over towards where Eri was and saw that she succeeded in helping the mother and daughter. The two junkies that were after them both lying incapacitated on the ground. The mother and daughter were huddled together, as I saw Eri running over towards me. I could hear the sounds of police sirens closing in. I had to get out of this form before they arrived. “Kevin…” Eri muttered, I could tell she was worried about how I was struggling to maintain my sense of self. “Mnh…” I tried to tell her I was okay, but the words caught in my throat. I tried to clear my head, but the wolf was howling at me to continue. It wasnt satisfied with this, it wanted to rip and tear to its hearts content. I couldnt let it gain control, there was no telling what it would do if it could roam the streets freely. I felt something grasp onto my arm and noticed Eri looking up at me. The look of worry she just had gone. “Its okay…you can do this. ” I pushed all thoughts from my mind and located that emotionless state. Gradually I returned to my human form, feeling the fur fall away from my skin and my body shrinking. I breathed a sigh of relief. Looking at Eri, who had a smile on her face. Looking behind Eri, I noticed something odd. Standing beside a parked car, the car that was following us to begin with, was a young woman. She was holding a digital camera aimed at us. She looked terrified. Eri followed my gaze towards the woman with the camera. When the woman noticed both of us looking at her, she bolted into her car and sped off. Why was she here? And why was she in such a hurry to leave? I couldnt think about that very long before realizing the cops would be arriving soon, and I had no clothing on. Luckily, I had thought a bit ahead on this kind of thing happening. So there was an extra set of clothes sitting inside of Eris car. I hadnt planned on this sort of thing happening today or anything. But it doesnt hurt to be prepared just in case. I got myself dressed inside of the car, just in time to see the cop cars coming to a stop on the street. Needless to say, there was a decent bit of explaining to do, but when the cops found out the five people who attacked us were all under the influence of Tigers Blood, they were quick to pin all of the damage to the surroundings on them. It was odd how almost unconcerned with Eri and I the officers were. Even the mother and daughter, who Eri helped and who had to have seen her powers, didnt know precisely how Eri helped them. I had heard that the demon intervenes in matters like this to ensure the tradition can be carried out in the way it wants. It was surreal seeing it happen right in front of me, though. The officers arrested all five people, the more injured ones being taken to the hospital first. The cops ended up chalking the whole thing up to a random act of violence. Since the attack fit the others like it that happened around the city, there was no way for them to know that they were targeting Eri specifically unless we told them. They didnt even question that much or want us to head down to the station. Under normal circumstances, this sort of conduct would have been unusual. Eri ended up getting her car towed to a shop, and we had to call Miranda to come and pick us up. She wasnt too happy about us getting into her car soaking wet but was more concerned about what had happened. “So, theyre using their blood magic to make drugs that control people. How the hell did they come up with that? ” Miranda stated after having the situation explained to her. “I dont know. Ever since they disappeared, I knew they had to be planning something, but something like this…this is just horrible. ” Eri said. “Why did they disappear? ” I asked. “Riley and Fife never really cared about anyone but each other. Even after they were given surgery to part the two of them, they would just spend every waking hour together. Then one day when they turned eighteen, the two of them just left one night, and we hadnt seen or heard anything about them since. There is no way of knowing exactly why they left. Same with our other sisters who just left the family. ” Miranda said. “Would it have to do with the tradition? ” Miranda shook her head. “Not for those. There was just something…off about them. ” “Jennifer wants us to work with her to stop them. “Makes sense, she cant do much against them otherwise, which means those girls have free reign of the city. Are you going to help her? ” Miranda asked. Eri was silent for a few moments, staring out at the rain. “We dont have much of a choice, do we? If I dont do anything, they are just going to wait and kill me at their leisure. “Theyll just keep on ruining peoples lives all because Im too afraid to die…” “Eri…you know that” Miranda started to say before Eri interrupted her. “No…as long as I can do something about it, its my fault. ” Tears begin to fall down Eris face. I guess Eri had the same invasive thoughts that I had. How that guilt eats away at you, even though what is happening is out of your control. “Take us to the station, I want to talk to Jennifer. Let her know that I will do whatever I can to help. ” “You sure? ” Miranda asked. Eri nodded her head. “Im sure, I need to do this. Kevin…youre still with me, right? ” “Of course. ” I replied. The decision seems so easy to make in hindsight, just your classic good versus evil predicament. Yet we would be dragged through hell by the end of this hunt. Not only us, but hundreds of other people would have their lives irreparably changed by the events. And the demon would get a show the likes of which he probably never imagined.

Kinda hard to imagine life pre-9/11. Windows on the World Watch Full lengths. Breathing really heavy. That's the review. Windows on the world watch full length movies.

 

 

 

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