Irish speed dating
PARIS: HOW I ESCAPED THE CLUTCHES OF A DARK CURSE IN THE CITY OF THE CATACOMBS
2020.11.24 15:21 DJSwaleswritesbooks PARIS: HOW I ESCAPED THE CLUTCHES OF A DARK CURSE IN THE CITY OF THE CATACOMBS
I don’t often talk about why I left Paris last year, but my mind won’t leave it alone. Memories of my neighbour, Madame Blankenfelde, jolt me with the realization that there are
things out there that want to hurt us. To hunt
us. By things
, I should be clear . . . I mean entities
of this earth, but not formed of flesh and blood. This last quality is perhaps why they covet us.
I had left Dublin for Paris as a struggling poet – following in the footsteps of James Joyce and many Irish writers and poets who had their “Paris phase”. I even journeyed to the City of Light in the same manner of those luminaries – by boat and train. No low cost airlines for me! There has to be some hardship,
I thought, I mean, I’m not escaping the mass deaths of the Irish famine, nor grinding colonial oppression.
Nope, I had merely been performatively dumped by my girlfriend during a slam poetry evening. Our explosive argument practically shut down the event. I was so embarrassed – another reason to leave Dublin. It didn’t help our chances that my poetry had received twice as many votes as her own.
On top of being dumped, the gourmet burger company I slaved for, near Trinity College, fired me without explanation. I later heard from Niamh, a co-worker from Donegal, that my beardless face, ginger curls, and generous Guinness
waistline just weren’t “hipster enough”.
“Hipster enough?” I cried. “For fuck’s sake I’m literally
a starving poet!”
I can still feel the relief as I finally stood outside the sadly yet gracefully decaying Residence Rimbaud
mansion block on that sweltering August day, after picking my way through the dog turds that peppered the pavement. Graffiti covered the length of the building as high as hands could reach. Being August, Paris was half empty, but the air was still thick with weed. At the base of the building were large incongruous foundation stones, the sad remains of a medieval abbey that now made up the building's basement, and apparently had a secret tunnel leading into the bone-filled catacombs. Five hundred years of dog piss had stained the noble stones like an abstract painting.
Behind me, a metro train roared out of the iron lattice of the raised Barbès – Rochechouart Metro station. I squinted at the hideous carvings in the honey coloured stone – gargoyle faces and macabre twisting vines and wilting flowers. They surrounded every door and window of Residence Rimbaud.
I think I sweated three bottles of Evian just lugging my huge suitcase up the first four flights of stairs. I remember pausing and leaning into the stairwell, trying to figure out the origin of some arabesque music that echoed around me as it very often would on the streets of what is now a very Tunisian and Algerian neighbourhood. Within walking distance were the picturesque hilly cobbles of Montmartre, made famous to some by the movies Amélie
and Moulin Rouge
, and known to others as the haunt of Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh, and Picasso. Monetmartre was where I’d really wanted to live, but the rents were higher than the dome of Sacre Coeur, the neighbourhood’s crowning glory. Shit!
I jumped. A frail, thin little lady, hair the colour of snow, was watching me, emotionless, from the top of the stairs. I laughed at the absurdity of it, grabbed my suitcase and, out of nowhere, she was suddenly next to me. “Oh, excuse me,” I said. “I hope I’m not in your way.”
She looked into my eyes, crossed herself like a good Irish Catholic, then muttered something inscrutable as she melted down the stairs. That was weird
, I thought. But I got used to it. That was my first experience of my decidedly eccentric neighbour Madame Blankenfelde.
A month after I moved in, I recorded Madame Blankenfelde’s routine passing phrase and posted it among my usual Instagram poetry stories. One of my followers is Latvian and she told me the words “var ļaunums palikt prom no jūsu durvīm”
mean, “may you keep evil from your door”
For my first few months in Paris I just wandered the streets by day, writing spontaneous poems and eating too many pastries. My Instagram profile and various blogs gradually attracted a meagre following of insomniacs, weirdos, and two potential stalkers. By night I pulled pints in The Foggy Dew
, one of the hundred Irish pubs in Paris, but the only one that can lay claim to have been the haunt of Oscar Wilde, after he left England a broken man. It was hidden down an alleyway in the medieval district of Le Marais
, next to a tiny gay bar, an old synagogue, and opposite a snooty interior design store where you had to ring the bell for entry. Bram Stoker was also said to have drunk in The Foggy Dew, after visiting the city’s skull-filled subterranean catacombs.
After work I’d lay in bed, listening to Gothic podcasts and working on my journal. I was researching the history of the Irish in France. Aside from when Irish famine refugees were ordered to stay outside the port city walls at night, the Irish had a glorious history in the country.
“There were Irish regiments in the French army,” I once explained to Patrice, one of the heaviest regular drinkers at The Foggy Dew. “They fought for France, but also to free Ireland from the British,” I explained. “It was actually an Irish General – MacMahon – that liberated Paris from the Prussians and the horrors of the Commune.”
“Ah!” said Patrice, “When the citizens turned on each other in every twisted savagery. Cannibalism! Madame Guillotine! Unspeakable acts! Not even babies were sacred. Bah!
All so some fucker could write a musical called Les Miserable!
Moments later I was on my knees in front of Patrice, mopping up his vomit. It was then that I looked up and saw a small face in the window. Madame Blankenfelde!
I dashed outside, my brow lined with confusion. She was shaking. “Are you cold?” I asked, but it was a warm night. Her face looked haunted. It was fear. Terror!
“Please!” she said, urgently pressing a thick envelope into my palm, conjuring the saddest weak smile. A few seconds later and I watched her speed away in her waiting taxi.
When I emptied the envelope behind the bar I found her keys, two hundred Euros and a small note, all in CAPS, saying:
HELLO RYAN. I MUST GO LATVIA. GRAND PROBLEMES FAMILY. PLEASE FEED CLEAN DRINK CAT KAKIS. MONEY. ONE WEEK KAKIS GOOD CAT. PLEASE PRAY ME GOD. MERCI – KATARINA
I showed the note to Patrice.
“Pull some fish out of the river, feed them to the cat, and pocket the money!” he advised. His breath still stank of vomit and I pulled away, lost in thought but now tasting my own bile at the back of my throat.
Three days into cat-sitting Kakis, I saw Mustafa, the janitor of the building, a broad and towering sixty-something mustachioed Algerian. He was mopping the tiles of the reception area, where a full time attendant once sat in better days. The wood of the desk was worn and scratched. On its warped surface a few thumb-eared tourist brochures had been abandoned by departing Airbnb guests. A large chandelier, missing most of its crystals, hung precariously on a cable that stretched up the full seven storeys of the building’s stairwell.
Mustafa spoke five languages if you included his spattering of English. He paced nervously on the spot, in open-toed sandals, as he explained that Madame Blankenfelde had been a housekeeper for a wealthy family in the 16th arrondissement for thirty years. This was only the third time she had returned to Latvia, the other times being the deaths of her mother and father. Thirty years?
I thought. How can that be, her flat is less than spartan. She has virtually no belongings.
I didn’t mention the dozen crucifixes nailed to every wall and bibles laid around the edge of the floors in both rooms. The only faded black and white photo in the place was pinned above her bed. The faces of two adults were scratched away. I figured they were her parents, with the girl nestled between them being Madame Blankenfelde. All three of them stood in front of a thick wooden door, from the top of which three small symbols dangled from ribbons. One looked a little like a Swastika, while another was a triangle. Others looked a little more complex, but all angular.
“She no like go home,” pot-bellied Mustafa said, shaking his head ruefully. His fingers sought the chain around his neck, hidden under the I LOVE DUBLIN
t-shirt I had passed on to him after putting on too much weight. The chain was taut on his thick neck as he pulled out a golden holy Hand of Fatima, rubbing it between his fingers as he spoke. I recognised the talisman immediately– said to protect Muslims from evil. I’d seen them sold at markets near the beach in El Gouna, Egypt. “You want?” asked Mustafa, seeing my interest in the object.
“No, no, just admiring,” I said, and trudged upstairs swinging a bag of cat food tins. I stopped in mid-step and swivelled to call down one last question: “Where is her husband? Latvia?”
Mustafa shook his head and, without looking up, said: “Bad thing happen, many
bad thing.” A vintage telephone blared from a side room. He stalked away to answer it.
On the sixth night, I checked on Kakis after returning from work. It was 2 a.m. As usual, the affectionate Kakis was at the door with the first scrape in the lock. It wrapped itself around my legs and then tailed close to my ankles as I stepped over the creaking floor. I smiled to see the blue silver-haired feline attentively watching the world from the window ledge, in a gap between several small bottles of Lourdes holy water. In fact I was wishing I had a few more days of me and my new buddy.
My eyes blinked in the dark. It was 4 a.m. Urggh, less than two hours of sleep,
thought. I heard footsteps through the wall next to my head. Madame Blankenfelde is back?
No sooner had I thought the words than the footsteps grew louder. They seemed to stop right next to me, just through the wall. I’m not sure how long it took me to drift off again, but I didn’t hear another step.
I had a pounding headache all day at work and left early. Constance stood in for me, a hazel-eyed, half-Irish girl from Bordeaux with a “thing” for poets and writers. She had legs up to her neck and one eyebrow forever raised in a state of circumspection. On my first day at work she became my unrequited crush the instant I walked through the door. Her laughter, her words of easy temper and swift forgiveness were all delivered through lips that rich people might suffer a thousand injections to mimic. Just being close to Constance’s forever sun-kissed skin and long shiny hair – like dark satin – made each shared shift a joy. But, conversely, her absence made the achingly boring hours of pulling pints and lugging barrels a grind. Either way, I needed the money.
Constance’s family had a fancy vineyard in Pomerol, but she wanted to be a wild child in Paris for a few years – and she liked Irish men. I wasn’t complaining, we’d made out drunkenly a few times after locking up. But the mind-blowing kisses always ended with her confessing I wasn’t really her type. “But I love your accent,” she’d say as if it was compensation for not getting any further with her.
As I fumbled with my key at the front door of Rimbaud Residences I heard a car door slam behind me. I turned to find Madame Blankenfelde paying her taxi driver, her luggage at her feet. What the hell?
“Bonjour Madame,” I greeted her as she stepped forward. I was ashamed that my French was still utterly useless, cursing myself for working in a bar where people either spoke English or wanted to.
“Bonjour Ryan,” she responded, allowing me to pull her small suitcase. In her weariness the words hardly escaped her lips. Not only was her hair somehow whiter, but the blood seemed gone from her face, her eyes almost lifeless. Her skin was like a walnut, with deep furrows across her forehead.
I would not have thought it possible but Madame Blankenfelde’s face turned even more ashen in the hallway, as Mustafa translated what I’d heard the night before. Her hands dropped to her sides, with a look of defeat.
“Deaux minutes,” said Mustafa and gently pulled her to the side, where they exchanged whispers. Feeling awkward, like I was intruding, I bade them goodbye and hauled myself upstairs. The headache roared back, threatening to split my skull. As I passed Madame Blankenfelde’s flat I saw the line of light under her door. I thought I saw a shadow . . . something bigger than Kakis. For a second I was rooted to the spot, but heard Mustafa guiding my returned neighbour up the stairs. I’m sure it’s nothing,
I thought. If there’s anything odd Mustafa will take care of it.
The next day, at exactly 11.11 a.m. I was awakened by sparrows chirping on my sunny window ledge. The headache had gone and I had a text from Constance saying: I’m coming over at 11.30. I’m bringing food.
“Suddenly everything is right with the world!” I said aloud, burying myself in my duvet and wondering if I had time for a shower or just a wet wipe “whore bath” as my sister called it. Will she want to play nurse?
“The door’s open!” I shouted when I heard the knock. After buzzing Constance in I leapt back into bed after drawing the curtain to cast myself in a more flattering glow.
“You have a gift?” asked Constance, as her smile filled my pokey two room flat.
“Someone left you something.” After leaving a shopping bag on the floor she twisted and plucked a small bag off the door handle. “Here”
“Oh, maybe it’s from Madame Blankenfelde, my neighbour.” I stretched my hand towards her.
“Ooh la la, an admirer? Am I interrupting a romance,” Constance said, pushing my hand aside, walking over the discarded wet wipes, and throwing herself onto the bed.
She felt so warm. I buried my nose in her long brown hair and kissed down to her neck. Her clothes peeled away. My hands, arms and legs enveloped her as she surrounded me. She smelled like mangoes and papayas. This is the Parisian dream, I thought, forgetting about the little bag.
That evening we were on the bullet train to Bordeaux. The new high speed line had just opened, her parents were away in Martinique, and we’d have the farmhouse to ourselves for five days. As the train whistled through the night I finally opened the bag in the cabin’s ghostly white light.
“They are so creepy,” said Constance, holding the carved wooden geometric symbols close to her face. She had just read me the note that accompanied them:
RYAN. THANK YOU PLEASE. ONE IN WINDOW. ONE DOOR. ONE POCKET. VERY IMPORTANT
**. FROM LATVIA.** – KATARINA
“Ah, yes. I saw these in that old photo in Madame Blankenfelde’s flat.” I knew there was something familiar about them.
For the next twenty minutes Constance searched through webpage after webpage, reading me her findings. The symbols were from Latvian folklore, dating back to Pagan times and an ancient tribe called the Latgallians. They were and still are used to ward away evil and attract blessings.
When we pulled into Bordeaux, Juliet was waiting for us. I’d met her a few times in Paris at The Foggy Dew, learning in the process that she was nowhere near as accomplished a kisser as Constance. Juliet had been the main influence for Constance moving to Paris, then bottled out when she was supposed to join her. The matter was a sensitive subject once enough booze had been consumed.
Juliet leapt out of an old beat-up Citroën CX Familiale
like a scalded cat. She flew across the ground, her stick-thin legs a blur of bright orange leggings. A huge baggy black turtle-neck sweater appeared to give her open arms wings. It was moth-eaten and looked like it had belonged to her father. “Your chauffeur awaits!” Juliet said, flinging her slight body into Constance’s arms and wrapping her legs around her.
Even with more changes of style than a chameleon, Juliet always looked striking. Her elven face greeted us that night with dark Gothic eyeliner, black lipstick and deathly white foundation. Her Elvira Queen of the Night
look was framed by severe straight bangs and an angular bob – at its longest in front of ears, which were studded with a junk yard of metal.
Juliet pulled open the car door for us, bowing theatrically. I saw her long and perfectly manicured nails, painted with black varnish and couldn’t help imagining them scratching down my back.
The car had three rows of seats – one each! I lay back for several minutes then folded my arms around Constance from behind. The wheels screeched as we careened down roads flanked by endless lines of vines.
“Pomerol, directement!" demanded Constance, laughing.
“Of course my lady,” answered Juliet from the driver's seat, like an English aristocrat. Her black eyes glanced in the rear view mirror more than she looked at the road, joining Constance in constant laughter and machine-gun French. I hardly understood a word and I didn’t care. I could have spent a lifetime listening to Constance.
The first night the alarm at Constance’s family’s rambling stone manor house went off several times while we slept, scaring the shit out of us, but it was kind of fun as we searched from room to room for any interlopers – clinging to each other.
On the second night Constance was unsettled by shadow standing in the corner of the bathroom. “It didn’t disappear in the light!” she said, after racing back to my open arms in the warm bed.
“Of course your mind is going to see weird things in a five hundred year old chateau, miles from anywhere,” I said. “But you’ve got me now.” If anything the unexplained shared experience just brought us closer.
On the third night we put up the Latvian talismans in our bedroom window. We were undisturbed the rest of our trip.
Constance and I parted ways at Montparnasse station, exhausted, happy, blissful. With my tired eyes I glanced back at her as she climbed into her Uber. She waved from the window as it pulled away, warming my romantic heart. I’m such a love fool
, I thought, as my heart panged at her absence. With that, I descended into the hot air of the Metro.
Back in Residences Rimbaud, I passed Madame Blankenfelde’s door.
I saw movement in the weak bar of light at its base. It swiftly went black, blotted out like night had fallen beyond the door. Hmm, Kakis must have laid down there
, I thought, hearing scratches from the base of the door. The poor moggy misses me
, I thought, aiming to knock on the door in the morning.
Unpacking my backpack I found the small bag and the wooden symbols. I read Madame Blankenfelde’s note again then did exactly as she had asked. Why was I so suddenly compliant? I don’t know. Something made
me do it. A compulsion perhaps, or some primal previously untriggered instinct. I placed one talisman on the window, one on the door hook, and the last one in my pocket. BANG!
There was a huge thud against my wall.
“Shit!” I jumped out of my skin. I felt a cold surge of adrenaline. Ponderous footsteps, close to the wall, faded as they walked away. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whispered as I heard them quicken and return. Another huge thud! The room shook, like a car had slammed into the wall. Goosebumps bristled over my skin. Cold air pressed in around me.
“Fuck it,” I said. I quickly headed to the door and into the corridor.
“Not another bloody note?” I stooped to pick up the torn paper outside Madame Blankenfelde’s door and heard the key scrape in her lock.
WELCOME BACK RYAN. PLEASE CAN YOU HELP ME? IT’S THE CAT. SHE HASN'T EATEN FOR DAYS. MAYBE SHE MISSES YOU.
What the hell?
I thought. Did she read my mind? And now she knows how to use apostrophes in English?
The double lock scraped again. The handle turned. An inch gap opened, revealing a strange absence of light. Sunset is hours away
, I thought. “Hello? Bonjour? Madame Blankenfelde?” I asked, without answer. Where is Kakis?
I thought. His expectant eyes and curious face usually tested the thinnest gap between the door and frame. I sensed something was wrong.
I waited, listening. There was no sound. Even the Metro trains at Barbès – Rochechouart station and beeping cars beyond her window were silenced. Then I heard the voice. Shivers of ice still trowel up and down my spine at its recollection.
“Ryyy –annn,” it said, in a thin, lingering hoarse voice. Like that of old woman sore and stricken with tonsillitis, who has to choke up each word. “Ryan, please come in . . . we’ve been waiting for you.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I said, my voice cracking. “Are you ok in there? Should I get Mustafa?”
“No!” ordered the voice, suddenly sharper.
The air around me was so frigid I saw the cloud of my own breath.
The door creaked open on its hinges. I didn’t dare step closer. Instead, I inched backwards, turning my feet towards the stairwell.
“Ryan?” asked the now impatient voice,deeper in tone, and exuding a latent threat.
As I backed away, the floor creaked. No, no, it can’t be Madame Blankenfelde,
I thought, the penny dropping, neither the note nor the voice. She knows damned well that her beloved cat is a boy!
I felt an intense heat on my upper thigh, moments before heavy footsteps advanced from where I knew her bed to be. That’s where I put the old Latvian talisman!
I remembered, hand on my pocket, as I fled for the stairs.
My short fat legs hardly touched the floorboards.
Halfway down the marble staircase I almost collapsed from the exquisite terrifying anticipation of those footsteps catching up with me in the stairwell. Instead, I heard a thunderous slam of a door.
The police called me at Constance’s flat that night. I was not prepared for what she would relay to me from the phone.
“When Mustafa and the police broke down the door Madame Blankenfelde’s room was destroyed,” she said. “Many crucifixes and the metal and wood from her dismembered bed were sticking out from the wall closest to your room – all thrown with inhuman strength.”
The worst was yet to come. Constance was weeping as she translated each line. “Oh my god. They looked inside a small high cupboard . . . they needed a small step ladder. Buried behind clothes and books . . . they found her body!”
“Madam Blankenfelde’s body?” I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“Brace yourself for what I am about to tell you,” said Constance, her face grey. “Poor Madame Blankenfelde was crushed . . . into a small
“No! How?” I asked, spluttering. My heart was broken. “Impossible. I helped her carry that suitcase into the building. No one could fit inside it, hardly even a child.”
Constance gasped and covered her mouth in horror as she listened, the phone pressed to her ear. “Her neck and limbs had been snapped like twigs.”
I slumped to the floor and wrapped my arms around her legs, my head in her lap. She stroked my head as she spoke.
“The police think she was murdered about four days ago. There was an old photograph in the suitcase with her, with three faces scratched away.”
“Three? No, I saw only two had been scratched.”
It was then I realised Madame Blankenfelde had lived every day knowing one day she would be found. By what
I do not know.
The love that Constance and I shared was a light soon snuffed out by the darkness of what transpired at Residences Rimbaud. On my thigh I still bear the red angular scars of the talisman Madame Blankenfelde gave me. I wonder if the being
that hunted down the members of her family was too strong for the symbols, overcoming the faith held in them. Or, long ago, had some dark act by someone in her family invoked the hunter
, nullifying their power – like those foolish people who were said to invite vampires over their thresholds?
Before Constance and I broke up for the last time we travelled to Riga together, the capital of Latvia. Supposedly it was to enjoy the romantic Christmas markets. We also sourced more of those ancient carved wooden talisman symbols.
Kakis was never found . . .
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2020.11.20 22:21 CrysofCrimson Julien Crackeroey, "The Friendless" (repost)
(Keep this in mind, this is a repost, not a new character. Only edited, but still kept with the same mechanics in mind. As of the repost of this character, no one can make new ones. As the mods are still working on the way character sheets are made. )
(Quick message to the Mods: I got permission for this, but if you wouldn't like this to be kept up I can remove and just edit the old one instead. My reason for a repost is to keep it more recent and up to date. I will remove it if requested.)
[Bio] Name: Julien Crackerboey
Looks: A tall, gloomy looking character with Irish, American, and Asian heritage. His height is 6’4 and possibly taller, while holding a muscular figure above most athletes. His hair is a velvet red with large bangs that drip down over his eyes, making them hardly able to make out. The hairdo is quite messy and a little wavy, but not too wavy or else it would cause more attention to this introverted giant.
He wears a sweatshirt ripped at the shoulders so that he can show all his nasty scars and biceps while pummeling enemies. To flex even more, his jacket is purple and has a badass akuma symbol on the back imprinted in red. The hood on his sweatshirt usually lays dormant on his messy hair to keep the messy haire suppressed, and the sweat jacket has its zipper usually unzipped exposing a tight wife beat underneath. His physique is easy to catch this way.
Julien’s pants are black and ripped at the knees, and always seem to look a little worn in quality; with steel-toe-boots with the same color for a matching style.
He also has a huge sheath for what seems like some sort of broad weapon. More about this weapon in the Equipment section.
No Pain No Gain - Julien has gone to extreme measures to get to where he is now, even if his methods weren’t the most agreeable. He is abnormally durable and has a small resistance to blunt forces.
Cursed Hatred - Julien has gained an affinity with dark magic through abnormal circumstances at the cost of his sanity. Hitting an enemy with his fists grants Julien some of their life force, and hitting enemies 10 with his fists grants him the ability to go into a blind rage while clouding himself in dark magic. This switches his move set at the cost of a huge withdrawal after 10 turns of being in this state, which makes him open to attacks for a couple turns and disables his ability to attack for about 2 turns.
Crippling Combo - Julien combos the enemy and cripples them. This stuns the enemy for 2 rounds, and does moderate damage.
Devilish Headbutt - Julien takes a stance and charges at his opponent at full speed. On hit, Julien gets a small damage buff and deals moderate damage.
Lunch Break - Julien hides behind an ally and attempts to bandage himself for 1 turn. This stops bleeding and numbs some pain, while healing Julien by a moderate amount. If the ally Julien hides behind is attacked, Julien also gets hurt and is forced back to his spot on the field. This move can only be used every 5 turns.
Cursed Hatred Variants:
Shadow Blitz - Julien slices his sword at the enemy several times. This does above massive damage, and makes the opponent bleed for a few turns. This move can only be used after the enemy stops bleeding.
Devil Sever - Julien lunges at the opponent at super fast speeds, and does a downward slash onto the opponent. This does monstrous damage and disables the enemies physical moves for 5 turns. If it misses, Julien falls flat on his face and damages himself. Idiot.
Demonic Overflow - At the cost of adding 2 more turns of withdrawals after the end of the awakening, Julien manifests multiple tendrils made of black magic and stabs the enemy with them. While this is happening, the enemy is stunned and is dealt life steal damage. This a percent amount of damage no matter how big or small the opponent is, which is usually half the amount of health they already have. This lasts for 1 turn.
Restrained Speech - Can’t talk almost at all.
Insane - Is mentally unstable and has to focus on keeping himself together. Physiological attacks do more damage.
[Lore] As a young’n, Julien has undergone so much pain and torment from his peers it eventually drove him to his breaking point. Then, if things couldn’t get any worse, a curse strove him to spill blood against those who hurt him. In the end, he had to flee to avoid getting put in the cellar while figuring out what had happened to him.
He eventually learned to control this power at the cost of pushing some of his mental focus towards controlling it. As he got older, he developed a reason to fight. People didn’t like him for his curse, and got into a bunch of problematic situations regarding his safety. This led to him having to learn how to defend himself, and finding someone who could teach him so. Years of training later and now Julien is able to control the curse without worrying about much trouble towards others, and is able to defend himself without accidentally killing anyone.
In other words, he doesn’t have to worry about killing other people anymore. He’s already bared the pain and consequences of doing such things and never wants to do it again. His mind won’t be able to handle it. Not again.
Just wanted to make some money like a normal mercenary and not get caught into any shenanigans. Then he did, and now never wants to leave.
[Equipment] Julien’s Weapon - Something that appears to be an abnormally large greatsword. It's got demonic like properties that seem to help Julien regulate his power. It also seems quite heavy. How does he even carry that thing around!?
Steel-Toed Boots - They help prevent your feet from getting hurt. Any more need to be said?
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2020.11.14 13:14 RebornInLife Prophecies of Nostradamus - a channelled solution, part 2
| || |This mini-series outlines the coming turn of the Wheel of Fate for humanity as prophesized by the great occultist and seer, Nostradamus. The source claims Nostradamus was in communion with him and gave him more direct explanations of his quatrains peering into our reality from the higher realms that had to be encrypted at his time because of authorities. I've revealed this here as it sits perfectly with the other materials (over a hundred prophecies) as well as the movements on the world stage. The quatrains of Nostradamus would require the reader to be well versed in latin, greek, history of the world, occult science, astronomy, the body, alegories of ancient and Nostradamus time and so on and can be explained in endless ways as they often are in the lamestream media. https://preview.redd.it/0gkkcj6e57z51.png?width=730&format=png&auto=webp&s=6188c75510b1271629ebe67022e5d4a18962bc17 7.3 England brashly rushes into battle An English prince, Mars has his heart in the heavens, will wish to follow his prospering fortune. In two duels, one will pierce him in the gall bladder, hated by him, but well loved by his mother. (III-16) submitted by RebornInLife to PropheciesOfTheFuture [link] [comments]
This is an event that will take place close to the beginnings of the war caused by the Anti-Christ. This will precipitate England’s involvement with this great war. «The English Prince, his heart held by Mars high in the heavens»
, is a young man of the English royal house who is eager to lead the troops into battle. He will be anxious to go. He will be in two major engagements and in one of them he will be defeated. He will be outflanked on the field and he will have to retreat in disgrace. The troops that he was fighting against will spit at him and use his name as a curseword, for he was a good fighter even though he was defeated.
His brashly rushing into battle messes up some of the carefully laid plans in the conquest of Europe. And so this man will return to England. However, «his mother»
i.e. his motherland, England, will be cheering him and will love him all the more for the brave show he made. For trying to help and for carrying the English name and honor bright into battle. The part «they will pierce him in the gall bladder»
means they will outflank him and «pierce»
his forces in the side and hence defeat him.
The weapons fight in the sky for a long period; the tree fell in the middle of the city. The sacred branch cut, a sword opposite Tison, then the King Hadrie falls. (III-11)
It refers to the fall of the English royal house. The quatrain predicts a combination of the male descendants of the family either being killed in battle or dying from a disease released from biological bombs designed to affect only men. The enemy will have biological bombs that release viruses killing all of the soldiers. Slashing the fighting forces so they’ll have less soldiers to confront on the battlefield. But the bomb doesn’t discriminate. It also affects men who are not fighting, such as older men at home and young boys. This bomb is only going to be dropped on England. But the doctors in England will be able to create a vaccine or a serum that will counteract the effects of the virus and help make people immune to it. In the North great efforts will be made, across the seas the way will be open. The rule on the island will be re-established, London fearful of the fleet when sighted. (II-68)
This refers to two events. On the one hand it refers to the way things were between the United States and England during World War II, and how they managed to keep the «shipping lanes open between the two countries»
. It also refers to the time of the Anti-Christ. The Anti-Christ, during his European campaign, will also attempt to take over Great Britain – «London fearful of the fleet when sighted
» - but not be entirely successful. Part of the reasons for this will be because there will be the support of the United States behind England, once again. So Great Britain, being a prime maritime power will be able to reassert herself.
The more stubborn supporters of the underground will flee to Ireland and Scotland. He will not be successful in taking over the entire
island. Then you’ll have kind of like a "rump" United Kingdom. You’ll understand me if you recall your history of World War II, when the Germans took over part of Czechoslovakia. Two-thirds of Czechoslovakia was part of Nazi Germany and the remainder of Czechoslovakia put together a rump government. Thus, they will have a rump United Kingdom. The majority of England will be under the power of the Anti-Christ. But North England, Scotland and Ireland will not be under is power.
Hopefully this event taking place has the possibilities of uniting Ireland. Because if England is taken over, she will not be able to do anything about Northern Ireland, so Ireland can reunite itself the way it’s been wanting to be reunited for centuries. When England is taken over by the Anti-Christ, they will be in no position to have any say-so as to what goes on in Ireland. And so Ireland will be able to apply its own remedies to its problems, and turn its dynamic energy towards other problems, such as the Anti-Christ. And the Irish spirit, being strong and valiant as it is and the Scottish stubbornness will play a good ways toward helping the underground movement to survive the worst of the worst days and eventually conquer the Anti-Christ. When all this is over, people who are Scottish and people who are Irish will be proud that they are, because of the role Ireland and Scotland will play.
7.4 France is torn https://preview.redd.it/7jg9mtdm57z51.png?width=350&format=png&auto=webp&s=382197f394cfaa6b4e9e7f3f50dac9f94e6d5e62 French fleet, do not approach Corsica; even less Sardinia, you will regret it. You will all die, the help from the cape in vain, captive, swimming in blood you will not believe me. (III-87)
The Anti-Christ will use the islands of «Corsica»
as a base of operation to attack France. Others who are aware of what is going on will try to warn the French – unfortunately «in vain»
. In Avignon, the leader of all the Empire will make a stop because Paris is deserted. Tricast will contain the African anger, the Lion will be poorly consoled by the change. (III-93)
The Anti-Christ marches through southern France near «Avignon»
. Avignon was a very important city in my days, because it was the seat of the papacy at one point; within a couple of hundred years of my time. «Paris will be deserted»
because he will threaten to bomb it, as he has bombed Rome and Athens. England won’t be able to do a thing because she’ll be threatened next.
In the green field of Alleins and Vernegues of the Luberon mountains near Durance, the fighting on both sides will be so bitter for the armies that Mesopotamia shall cease to be found in France. (III-99)
This quatrain refers to the fighting that will occur when the Anti-Christ’s forces try to capture Switzerland. He won’t be successful but he will destroy a part of France in trying. A bomb will be launched to destroy Geneva and Zurich, but instead it will land in France and cause contamination. This will happen at the French and Swiss border area, hence the names of the places in France.
During his daring Mediterranean campaign the Anti-Christ takes over Monaco and he knows he must get rid of the Prince of Monaco so he can be the official ruler. The reason why Monaco is so important is because of its strategic position in relation to Italy and southern Europe. In Century III-10
I refer to «the great golden one caught in an iron cage
». This is the successor to Prince Ranier (apparently one of his sons) who will be imprisoned after the takeover.
7.5 The Rock of Gibraltar falls
The marine tower will be captured and retaken three times by Spaniards, barbarians and Ligurians. Marseilles and Aix, Arles by men of Pisa, devastation, fire, sword, pillage at Avignon by the Turinese. (I-71) https://preview.redd.it/vj4yij5q57z51.png?width=400&format=png&auto=webp&s=60caedb29d88c44333fc2724861c1721ec480fdb
The «maritime tower»
refers to the Rock of Gibraltar, a «tower»
of strength due to its strategic location. Also it belongs to a country that is basically a maritime or a marine power; that is, Great Britain with her navy. A promontory stands between two seas: A man who will die later by the bit of a horse; Neptune unfurls a black sail for his man; the fleet near Gibraltar and Rocheval. (Ι-77)
Gibraltar will play a key role in the Mediterranean battle with the Anti-Christ. The key man principle in saving Gibraltar from the Anti-Christ’s forces and thereby as a result saving the Iberian Peninsula, will later go to his death. He will be killed in an automobile accident. I used the phrase, «bit by the horse
» because I did not know the concept of automobiles. This man is a naval officer but he will die somewhat young. That’s why I said «Neptune had unfurled a black sail for him»
The promontory is the Rock of Gibraltar and «the fleet near Gibraltar and Rocheval»
refers to one of the key strategic places the fleet will need to be in the process of the ongoing sea battles. Rocheval is an anagram for a small obscure port that’s not too distant from the Rock of Gibraltar. The leader who will conduct great numbers of people far from their skies, to foreign customs and language. Five thousand will die in Crete and Thessaly, the leader fleeing in a sea-going supply ship. (I-98)
There will be a large force of marines that will try to stave off an attack. Many will be killed in the neighborhood of «Crete and Thessaly»
. But they will not succeed and they will have to withdraw, probably to Gibraltar. This is to be expected because the Anti-Christ won’t be able to just walk into Europe. There will be a struggle. The Europeans will fight back. The fighting ship which their leader is on will be sunk and he will have to transfer his colors to a supply ship because it will be the nearest ship that is still seaworthy and large enough to carry his men. It will be a very fierce battle. I’m speaking figuratively. I described it as «barn»
because it is a place where you store your feed for your horses plus your horses. This ship will have amphibious vessels in it as well as gasoline and such. 7.6 The conquest of Spain
New games are set up in Gaul, after the victory of the Insubrian campaign. The mountains of Hesperia the great ones tied and bound. Romania and Spain will tremble with fear. (IV-36)
It refers to the Anti-Christ’s southern European campaign. His influence will begin spreading to where it will threaten Spain on the western side and threaten Romania on the eastern side. At this point in the campaign the Anti-Christ will have already taken over much of France and will prepare to take over Spain.
As for the «victory of the Insubrian campaign
» you will find some parallels in the Gallic peoples and the Roman history when the Roman Empire was trying to expand northward into central Europe. The Romans were only able to go so far before they ran into problems. But the Anti-Christ will learn from history to overcome these problems. «The mountains of Hesperia»
refer to the mountains of eastern Europe, particularly the Alps and the Caucasians. That area is mountainous and difficult to maneuver in. Note: The Insubres were one of several Gallic peoples of the continent, known as Celtae, who crossed the Alps and settled in what is now known as Milan and the Po valley in the 5th century B.C.E. These people were fierce warriors. Undaunted by the prospect of death they fell upon their enemies with an ardor and impetuosity that swept away an army in an instant. They destroyed but they did not create. 7.7 Greece-Turkey : a brief war The alien nation will divide the spoils. Saturn is dreadful aspect in Mars. Dreadful and foreign to the Tuscans and Latins. Greeks who will wish to strike. (I-83) «The alien nation»
represents the country you know as Turkey because Turkey will contain so many internal factions – «will divide the spoils»;
that’s why it will start a war with Greece so people will concentrate on the war rather than the internal problems that are taking place within their country. While Turkey will have the support of the Russians, Greece will not have the support of other countries. It will ask for help from Italy, the United States and other countries, but they will all stay neutral. «Saturn in dreadful aspect in Mars»
refers to the fact that this war will happen when Saturn will be in its ruling position of Capricorn, and Mars will be in Aries. The war will only last for a couple of months. There’ll be fire in the great city of Athens but they are not going to burn the Parthenon.
The great Satyr and Tiger of Hyrcania; gift presented to the people of the Ocean: the leader of a fleet will come forth from Carmania and land at the Phocea of Tyre. (III-90)
During the Turkish-Greek war, the Greeks will be outraged by Turkey’s desire to control a lot of the Greek islands in the Aegean Sea. The «Tiger»
represents Israel, and the «Satyr»
represents the glory of ancient Greece. They will make an alliance and this will bottle up the Turks and Arabs who are trying to destroy Israel.
An alliance will be created between Greece and Israel against Turkey, and their ceremonies will be conducted on the water - «gift presented to the people of the Ocean».
You can research the historical name Hyrcanus and the history of ancient Tyre in order to understand these references. Near the Douro closed by the Cyrenian sea he will come to cross the great mountains of the Pyrenees. The shortest hand and his opening noted he will take his followers to Carcassonne. (III-62)
The «Cyrenian Sea»
refers to the Anti-Christ’s invasion of Europe through Spain and Greece. The Anti-Christ will take possession of Cyprus away from the Turks when he first rises to power. He will also take over the ancient town of «Carcassonne»
which is in southern France. He considers it to be a strategic point.
7.8 The children suffocate without education https://preview.redd.it/hlkpz1fu57z51.png?width=300&format=png&auto=webp&s=c37eabee68bcddf0e0d4c02f490cfc8992cdacdf A year before the war in Italy, Germans, French and Spanish will be for the strong one; the school-house of the republic will fall, where, except for a few, they will suffocate to death. (II-39)
There will be those in Germany, France, Spain, and Italy, who «will be for the strong one»
, will be secretly working for the Anti-Christ, helping him to take over Europe. As a result of him taking over Europe and destroying the cultural centers and such, it will affect Europe in such a way that, since they’ll be in a state of war, it’ll be difficult to continue educating the children because of air raids and such like. And so the children will have to go without education until the time of troubles are over.
Some of them, the ones referred to as «suffocating to death»
, are those with curious minds who need to read and learn because they are of above-average intelligence. They will feel like they are suffocating without the exposure to literature and such as they were used to. The phrase «the schoolhouse will fall»,
refers to the inability to educate the children due to the war conditions. 7.9 Experimentation
During the time of troubles the nations will become desperate for any solution to stop the monster. Thus, this also will become a time of experimentation. Scientists will search for new and more radical weapons and other methods of war that defy belief. Some of them seem to stretch man’s imagination to the limits. https://preview.redd.it/libcc0zv57z51.png?width=280&format=png&auto=webp&s=0ffbbf05fb26d21d5092ad7ecc8512fcfe191703 The sun in twenty degrees of Taurus, there will be a great earthquake; the great theater full up will be ruined. Darkness and trouble in the air, on sky and land, when the infidel calls upon God and the Saints. (ΙΧ-83)
This one has a multiple meaning. Such quatrains are easy enough to interpret into multiple meanings because of the disasters that happen from time to time in earth’s history. One of the minor implications of this quatrain has happened in what you would consider the recent past, that is the earthquake in Mexico City (September 1985). But that is not the major impetus of the quatrain. This will be an earthquake that will be triggered by a weapon that is currently being developed in secret underground laboratories. I cannot put across the images of how this weapon works, for the concepts are not present in my vocabulary and they’re not present in this vehicle’s vocabulary either
. It apparently will be working on some scientific principle recently discovered that has not really been developed yet. https://preview.redd.it/k8987lmx57z51.png?width=280&format=png&auto=webp&s=4ed3372c928a50804bc6eb79319cb0f2d7c2a81b
So the concept of it is not generally available to be learned. The only thing I’m putting across clearly is the operating part of this weapon, the part that actually triggers the earthquake. I’m not sure, or rather the concepts are not clear as to whether it is something that is dropped or something that is projected like a laser ray, but whatever the actual operating point of the spear is, so to speak, it is airborne. Some extension of the device is carried in a plane and the plane must fly over the area where the earthquake is to be or at least fly over the area where the earthquake must be triggered, regardless of the area the earthquake ends up affecting. https://preview.redd.it/3gtr5biy57z51.png?width=350&format=png&auto=webp&s=c73cceb9d6763055bf3d0fc63017ff66aa482055
But that will not be the entire device. That will simply be like the point of the spear, just the operating part of it. The power behind the weapon and the science behind it will be based in a secret underground laboratory elsewhere. Somehow the power from the underground laboratory will be linked to the airborne device in such a way as to be able to channel it to the desired effect of a triggered earthquake. This could possibly be done in some sophisticated way by directing sound waves toward the target. The country that develops this device will be able to hold it as a major threat over the heads of all the major nations. Any nation can be intimidated that has any geological faults in their country that are susceptible to earthquakes.
It will be very similar to the situation immediately after World War II, of the United States being the only country with nuclear power. It might be a nation like Russia, or a nation with the power behind it to have secret military research going on in a big way, on a large scale. The attitude this nation will have is that, "the weapon is mine. I’m going to keep it to myself". It’s a paranoid nation that will have it and this will cause the disintegration of the United States. «The sun in 20 degrees of Taurus»
, refers to when the weapon becomes generally known. It’s already in the process of being developed but it’s extremely secret. When it becomes more generally known, it will be that date. There will be an earthquake associated with it. That’s how people will come to realize there is something fishy going on. For there will start being a lot of earthquakes without the previous buildup of pressure associated with them. One side effect of this weapon is that it will create sufficient instability to set off other earthquakes that are apt to go at any time anyway.
I’m picturing the two major fault systems in the United States. One is particularly unstable. The other one stays stable but then is explosive. The San Andreas and the New Madrid faults. The earthquakes triggered by this weapon will cause the San Andreas fault to rumble all the time. The New Madrid fault has always been bad to build up the pressure and then explosively quake.
So with the San Andreas fault continually rumbling and vibrating it will set off the New Madrid fault into a major earthquake. When these earthquakes initially start happening the geologists will think it’s by natural causes, but then some of the information will not point to natural causes and they’ll begin so suspect something. As more earthquakes happen, through their science they gather more information and confront the scientific world with the evidence they have that these are not natural earthquakes.
This earthquake device, that this country has for focusing a certain type of energy waves onto certain parts of the earth’s crust to trigger earthquakes, is already in the process of being developed. This will be basically before the Anti-Christ comes to power. It will contribute to the United Nations falling apart, and that in turn will make things easier for the Anti-Christ.
This nation that develops this machine will be developing it independently of the Anti-Christ rising to power, but later on when he takes over a certain amount of power he’ll be able to start acquiring things like this. Then the Anti-Christ will take over this machine and start using it to his own ends. The Anti-Christ will acquire that machine through guile and trickery, through spies and bribery and all other nefarious means known to man. The eye of Ravenna will be forsaken, when his wings will fail at his feet. The two of Bresse will have made a constitution for Turin and Vercelli, which the French will trample underfoot. (Ι-6)
There will be some research being done on a more sophisticated sort of radar to make it into a sensing-type device that will provide more in-depth information for the operator. They will be trying to develop this device so it can be used in aircraft. But the first experiments with this will be a failure. Somehow the device will put off the type of sympathetic vibrations to cause the structure of the plane to become weakened and dangerous, due to the dissolving of the bonds between some of the molecules in the metal. https://preview.redd.it/0mukw75167z51.png?width=450&format=png&auto=webp&s=0596a54d853aaa28f2a17aae53efacabdb1282a4 «The eye of Ravenna»
is an anagram for a mythological figure (Ravana: great demon in Indian lore)
skilled in sorcery and in every magic art transforming themselves into all manner of shapes. «When his wings will fail at his feet»
, refers to the aircraft. At this time the scientists will end up temporarily abandoning the research in this project due to diplomatic breakdowns and the threat of war, etc. This will be occurring at the time of the Anti-Christ but before the Anti-Christ comes to full power. It will be happening in Europe at the time the Anti-Christ is gaining a power base in the Middle East, so the two events won’t really be related. But it will be one of the events in Europe that lead up to making it easier for the Anti-Christ to take over Europe. The radar has been developed but it’s not been experimented on yet. They will find out soon enough that it is dangerous. Note: Toward the end of inventor Nicola Tesla’s life he claimed to be able to create a shield in the upper atmosphere that would destroy any incoming aircraft. The Russians developed a machine (called "gyrotron"), based on Tesla’s invention, designed to "sweep the sky of warplanes" by using high-energy microwaves. These high-power microwave weapons would give the operator the same ability to wipe out electronic circuits as a nuclear blast would provide. The main difference is that this new technology is controllable, and can be used without violating nuclear weapons treaties. Tesla described his speed-of-light system as being able to melt aircraft hundreds of miles away.
Another quatrain that sounds like the "gyrotron" is Century II-91
(in "Space exploration") describing secret weapon research carried out by the Soviets. They develop energy fields that guard their northern approach corridors. 7.10 Use of nuclear weapons Milk, blood, frogs will be prepared in Dailmatia: battle, engaged, plague near Balennes. A great cry will go up throughout Slavonia, then will a monster be born near Ravenna. (II-32) https://preview.redd.it/fcoev8x267z51.png?width=300&format=png&auto=webp&s=3d0d455e27af6a853bf428bc265084e7261b1290
The «milk, blood, frogs will be prepared in Dalmatia»
– refers to both the instruments of death itself – that is, various atomic weapons - plus the labs nearby where new ones are being developed. That last line «then will the monster be born»
is about when researchers will develop this ultimate monstrosity in weapons near Ravenna. (In this quatrain Ravenna is also mentioned referring to a place). This research is already going on in your present. It will come to fruition during the time of troubles.
Near the harbor and in two cities will be two scourges, the like of which have never been seen. Hunger, plague within, people thrown out by the sword will cry for help from the great immortal God. (II-6)
The word «harbor»
means a body of water, an ocean, separating «two»
. One of these cities is London and the other city is New York. Due to some secret research into bacteriological warfare, two different disease-causing organisms will be released into the atmosphere in such a way as to affect the population of the two cities. It will appear to be two different diseases even though it was caused by the same organism. As a result of this plague the service systems within these great metropolises will break down. The people in the surrounding countryside will panic and voluntarily stay away from the city, in effect putting themselves under quarantine. They will refuse to deliver anything to the cities, so that the people within the cities will be starving to death due to lack of food. Not because there’s no food to be had, but because no one will deliver it and run the risk of being exposed to the plague. Very near to Auch, Lectoure and Mirande a great fire will fall from the sky for three nights. The cause will appear both stupefying and marvelous; shortly afterwards there will be an earthquake. (I-46)
There’ll be a group of doctors researching into the powers of the various energy fields of the earth. This will be a secret government project. They’ll try to harness these powers and use them for various things including warfare. At the time they finally start doing direct experimentation on the physical world, they will accidentally rupture one of the earth’s fields in such a way that a beam of energy will shoot out into space and draw a stream of meteorites toward the earth. This will happen around the North Sea. The meteorites will be drawn toward the earth because of this alteration of the energy fields around the earth. So in the process of trying to repair the damage there is an earthquake soon after when the stress has built up. The three names I use in the quatrain are code words of the secret project I’ve anagramized.
People in general may not ever know the connection of those words with the event, even though some of them may already be recognizable from various government circles. Those words were partially reminders to myself as to where I was talking about and partially so there would be some key words in there that will make sense as time unfolds. People will of course think this was a spectacular natural phenomenon.
There’ll be a group of doctors researching into the powers of the various energy fields of the earth. This will be a secret government project. They’ll try to harness these powers and use them for various things including warfare. At the time they finally start doing direct experimentation on the physical world, they will accidentally rupture one of the earth’s fields in such a way that a beam of energy will shoot out into space and draw a stream of meteorites toward the earth. This will happen around the North Sea. The meteorites will be drawn toward the earth because of this alteration of the energy fields around the earth. So in the process of trying to repair the damage there is an earthquake soon after when the stress has built up. The three names I use in the quatrain are code words of the secret project I’ve anagramized.
People in general may not ever know the connection of those words with the event, even though some of them may already be recognizable from various government circles. Those words were partially reminders to myself as to where I was talking about and partially so there would be some key words in there that will make sense as time unfolds. People will of course think this was a spectacular natural phenomenon.
8. The fall of the Anti-Christ - Ogmios 8.1 The fall and death of the Anti-Christ Anthony, great in name, in his actions base, at the end will be devoured by lice. One who is eager for lead, passing the harbor will be drowned by the elected one. (ΙV-88) «Ant-hony»
(an anagram for Anti-Christ),
«will be devoured
» by the common people whom he considered to be dirt beneath his feet, no better than «lice».
The «elected one
» is the great genius, the one who will come after the Anti-Christ to help rebuild the world. Vercelli, Milan will give the news, the wound will be given at Pavia: To run in the Seine, water, blood and fire through Florence, the unique one falling from high to low calling for help. (VIII-7)
The first line represents the underground network of those who are working to pull down the Anti-Christ, «the unique one falling from high to low calling for help»
. When the time comes for them to coordinate their efforts for the big push, they are able to swiftly get the word sent out and everyone coordinated. «To run in the Seine, water, blood and fire, through Florence»,
represents the power of the people themselves. Even though they are of different nationalities and different backgrounds, basic humanity will pull them through and help them to stay united for overthrowing the Anti-Christ.
A voice is heard from the top of Aventine Hill. Go, go, all on both sides! The anger will be appeased by the blood of the red ones. From Rimini and Prato, Colonna expelled. (IX-2)
The «red ones»
refer to known followers of the Anti-Christ, beginner souls with a red aura, filled with anger. And the «shout from both sides of Aventine Hill»
refers to the fact that everybody will be united against the Anti-Christ. Saturn in Taurus, Jupiter in Aquarius, Mars in Sagittarius, the sixth of February brings death. Those of Tardaigne so great a breach at Bruges, that the barbarian chief will die at Ponteroso. (VIII-49)
This quatrain has to do with the Earth shift. It will take place in the early part of the 21st century, and many people will leave the planet at that time. The Anti-Christ will still be in power.
«The barbarian chief will die at Ponteroso»
represents the Anti-Christ’s death: he dies due to the Earth shift; he will be swept away in a tidal wave. He and his army will be ready to strike because he believes that his power is omnipotent. He also believes that he can control the forces of Earth itself – not just the Earth’s people,
but the dynamics of the Earth itself – he isn’t counting on the tidal wave. «Ponteroso
» refers to the Alpine area of northern Italy and Switzerland; it is near the place where he will be swept away.
I see a picture: an entire encampment of different types of airplanes, ships, and vehicles that I have never seen before. And it’s all swept away by earthquakes and big water. It will happen very fast. His followers will try to continue the war, but the suffering and pain of the Earth shift itself will cause people to put away their weapons and try to rebuild civilization. It will be a time of climatic tensions among the people of the world, and a time for the Earth to renew itself.
2020.11.14 03:42 Quirky-Motor It's long been said that pregnant women have been going missing from Northern California at alarming rates. But is this really true? Or is the entire idea a twisted hoax?
You may know the name Laci Peterson, but do you know the names of the other women missing from Northern California? Around the time that pregnant Laci Peterson went missing, it has often been said that five other women pregnant women went missing from the Modesto area… But is this really the case?
Few months ago, I did an extensive two-part write-up on the case of Laci Peterson, a young pregnant woman from Modesto, California who was murdered by her husband Scott Peterson in 2002. For whatever reason this case has stayed in the public eye for almost two decades and although her husband is behind bars waiting execution for the murders of Laci and her unborn son, rumors still swirl online that Scott Peterson is innocent and was railroaded Modesto Police Department and the rabid media. If you are interested in this specific case, I would suggest you read my two-part right up which you can find here. https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/ie57ja/extensive_twopart_write_up_on_the_murder_of_laci/
In case you are unaware here's a brief rundown of Laci Peterson's case. Laci Rocha Peterson was 27 years old 2002. She was married to a 30-year-old man named Scott Peterson and the couple was expecting a baby in February of 2003. Christmas Eve 2002 Laci Peterson went missing and her husband Scott soon came under suspicion. Within days Scott was the prime suspect in Laci’s disappearance. The case of the pregnant mom to be and her handsome husband soon became a media sensation that garnered more attention than anyone ever would have expected. Within a couple of months, it emerged that Scott had had a number of affairs and was uninterested in being a father. Several years later he was convicted for the murder of his wife and son. Laci's body washed up on the shores of the San Francisco Bay less than a mile from where Scott Peterson was fishing on that fateful Christmas Eve, nearly 100 miles from the Petersons’’ home. Due to the passage of time only Laci's torso was found.
For reasons that are somewhat unclear to me, Scott has hundreds or even thousands of supporters online who are convinced of his innocence. Scott's family has paid for several documentaries to be made (Such as the ID network’s “The Murder of Laci Peterson”) that have painted Scott in a good light and made the jury and investigators look like bumbling idiots. Even though Scott has been in jail for 16 years, his supporters still rally around him and create Facebook pages, Innocence websites, petitions, and even primetime documentaries to tout his innocence.
One of their favorite things to bring up is the fact that five pregnant women went missing from the Modesto area within a couple of years Laci going missing. Many Scott supports have claimed that there was clearly a serial killer or a cult targeting pregnant women in the area and that this should create reasonable doubt regarding the guilt of Scott Peterson. Some defenders of Scott have even gone so far to say that all the women missing have similar characteristics. One Facebook page claims that all the missing women were pregnant and Hispanic or Hispanic- passing, like Laci*. On one of the Petersons’ family websites, it claims that many of the women were found in water, and were health conscious as well. If all these things were true, a serial killer would have be considered as a possibility in Laci’s case.
*Just to clarify, Laci was full Portuguese and passed for Hispanic. Her missing flyer even had to note that she was white, but did not look white.
The case discussed most extensively online is the case of Evelyn Fernandez whose headless body was also found washed up on the shores of San Francisco Bay. Various articles and documentaries have talked about the similarities between Evelyn's case and Laci's case, but they also point to these five, other mysterious women who went missing in Modesto during the same timeframe. Evelyn's case has gotten some media attention due to documentaries but it didn't seem like the other women had their stories documented anywhere.
The discovery of Evelyn’s case with circumstances which were so similar to Laci Peterson's disappearance, has also reminded people that attractive, white (or white looking), middle-class women get more media coverage than anyone else. The cases of people such as Evelyn fall by the wayside, meanwhile Laci's case is remembered decades later. And what about the other women? Surely, they deserve some attention as well.
Today, I planned on remembering the women that didn't get the media attention while also looking into the similarities and differences between these women’s cases and the case of Laci's murder, but I discovered something that I did not expect.
These pregnant women so often talked about in documentaries and online simply don’t exist
As many of us know, intimate partner violence is a major problem all over the world. Sadly pregnant women are more likely to be abused or killed by partner than non-pregnant women. Some studies have even shown that homicide is one of the leading causes of death for pregnant people. Most of the time the woman's current or ex romantic partner, and usually the father of the child she is carrying, is the perpetrator of these crimes. When I sat down to write this piece I expected to find stories that fit this scenario, however, this wasn’t the case.
The only information I could find was information on Evelyn and Laci. Begrudgingly, I decided to use the list on ssi.com (which stands For Scott is Innocent), and I found a list of 20 women on this website who the author (Scott’s family and the SPA team) claimed disappeared under similar circumstances to Laci “near” Modesto. However, as I began exploring these cases it quickly became apparent that a majority of the missing persons cases bore no resemblance at all the disappearance and murder of Laci Peterson. And the term “near Modesto” simply meant in California or Washington state. Most of the cases mentioned on the website are solved. But most importantly, some of the women on the list do not even exist
and the citations provided for them are websites that don’t work or articles that don’t exist.
Some of the women listed were missing at one point but have since been found alive (1 or 2
). Another group were women who were missing at one point but whose cases have now been solved (4
). Some cases are mostly solved, but remain unprosecuted (6-7
). A fourth group of women on the list, completely do not exist (6
, although 2 appear to be a simple mistake). In other words only 4 or 5
of these cases have the potential to be related to the murder of Laci Peterson. Only three women on the list came from Modesto, none of whom were pregnant and two of the cases happened in the 1980s, decades before Laci vanished.
The people on this list come from different backgrounds, regions, races, and ages. Some were mothers or grandmothers, others were high schoolers. As far as I can tell, the five mysterious women who are all pregnant and missing from Modesto never existed. This false piece of information has been spread by Scott Peterson’s supporters for years. Not only is the narrative of a serial killer stalking the area false, it is incredibly rude and disrespectful to these women who have passed on. The Peterson family are using people’s daughters’, mothers’, and friends’ stories to create a false narrative in order to exonerate Scott Peterson, a family annihlator, who is exactly where he needs to be. Let’s look at these cases that are supposed to “prove” that pregnant women were going missing from the Modesto area. All names are taken from the SII website. Jeannine Sanchez Harms
of Los Gatos, California (90 miles from Modesto) went missing in July, 2001 after a night out. The 42 year old worked at a computer company and was not pregnant. Harms case was cold for a few years but has since been solved. Her killer, a spurned lover of Jeannine’s, has since passed away and the case is considered solved
. Toni Clark
of San Francisco was a senior in high school and a talented athlete in 1990. Clark was driving home one night when she was struck from behind by another vehicle and presumably flew into the San Francisco bay. Her body was never recovered and she is assumedly decreased. The driver of the other car was tried for vehicular manslaughter but was not convicted as Toni’s body was missing and the jury felt that the no one could prove that Toni had actually died. Toni was about six weeks pregnant at the time. Her case is tragic, but law enforcement believes it was nothing more than a fatal car crash. Karen Modaffi
is one of the women listed on SII.org but she doesn’t exist. Kristen Smart
, a Cal Poly student was a college freshman when she was last seen. She was not pregnant and lived 217 miles from Modesto. The main suspect in her case is a man named Paul Flores who was found to be in possession of some of Smart’s bloodied jewelry. He has never been charged in her case. Law enforcement has confirmed that this case is not related to Laci’s case. Tera Smith
was 16 years old and not pregnant in 1998 when she vanished from Redding, California, 250 miles north of Modesto. The blonde high schooler left her home one day to break up with her boyfriend- a married 29-year-old father. She never returned home and her body has never been found. Tera’s boyfriend was sentenced for statutory rape due to Tera’s age but has never been charged with her murder or disappearance. It is considered closed
. Heather Marie Carpenter
was 22 years old in Aug 2003 when she attended a party, doomed to be her last. Carpenter was living in Redding (a five-hour drive from Modesto) and was not pregnant at the time of her death. Patrick Michael Larmour confessed to killing Carpenter and was sent to prison. The case is solved and closed
. Angelina Evans
was last seen in Sacramento in May 2001 when she was 26 years old. She was seven to eight months pregnant. She went for a walk, and was never seen again. Very little information is available; however, the case does bear a resemblance to Laci Peterson’s story.
According to SII.org, Consuelo Lomeli
, was apparently 8 months pregnant when she last seen in 2002 in Tulare, California. She apparently disappeared with three or four of her children. However, I can find no information on this case. The only place their names are mentioned at all are on a Charley Project blog post comment section with no additional information. It appears she was found alive. This case does not exist. Guadalupe Areias
like Consuelo above was apparently 8 months pregnant when she was last seen 11/26/2001 Longview, WA. However, this person again does not exist
→ A little digging has led me to believe that Guadalupe they meant to mention was actually Guadalupe Castro who disappeared in Washington state after going to meet with her estranged husband, Gergorio. Sadly, Guadalupe and her older daughter Agueda age 3, have never been located. Gregorio fled the area and has not been seen since shortly after the disappearance of his family. He is considered the prime suspect. Jeanette Gomez Espeleta
of Fullerton, California, a five-hour drive from Modesto, was last seen in November 1998. She was 8 months pregnant. Jeanette was excited to be a mom and had a baby shower planned when she went missing. Jeanette’s ex-boyfriend who was purportedly the father of her unborn child, confessed to killing her and dumping her body in the ocean. He took investigators to the place he dumped her body and although her body was not recovered, he is in prison and the case is considered closed
. Ornaith Murphy
and her husband Kieran Murphey were both last seen 12/16/2001 aboard their vessel Sola III which was docked in Jack London Square, near Oakland. The couple were both Irish nationals in their 50s. Ornaith was not pregnant. She and her husband are believed to be lost at sea or victims of a murder suicide. Either way this case does not bear resemblance to Laci’s murder in any way shape or form. Wendy Jamie Abrams-Nishikai
was last seen in Berkeley in 1989. She was not pregnant at the time. Very little information is available. Amparo Aguilar
, age approximately 18, was purportedly last seen in 1999 East Palo Alto. Very little information is available. This woman may be no longer missing, meaning that this case, does not exist
. Kristen Modafferi
went missing June 23rd 1997 in San Francisco. She was attending summer classes at UC Berkeley and she was not pregnant at the time. Kristen’s case is odd but there is a prime suspect in her case. Kathy Irene Sweet
, 32, had been dead only a few hours when a Stanislaus County sheriff's deputy found her nude body inside a pickup parked in a north Modesto almond orchard Jan. 14, 1998. She was not pregnant at the time of her death. Her death is believed to be homicide but no other information is available besides one Facebook post from the California DOJ. This case in Modesto bears little resemblance to Laci’s case. Teiaar Nakea Rowe
of Stockton, California was 24 years old when a farm worker found her body dumped in an almond orchard. Teiaar was not pregnant when she passed away. The only information on her case is one Facebook post, and one find a grave memorial. Lynsie Ekelund
, was a physically disabled college student in her early 20s when she disappeared from Placentia, California a six-hour drive from Modesto. She was not pregnant. Her 2001 disappearance was solved after a confession from a man named Christopher Michael McAmis who led investigators to her body. Her case is considered solved and closed
. Ruth Bender
, 33, was last seen getting into a green van at the Greyhound bus station in Modesto in 1986, according to the SII.website but his woman does not exist
→ I believe the woman they tried to profile was actually 15-year-old Susan Robin Bender
who went missing in Modesto after getting into someone’s car in 1986. Susan was acquainted with Loren Hertzog, a serial killer and he is presumed to be her killer. An old friend of Susan’s is also a suspect. Ruth Leamon
, 16, went to a Modesto store for a soda in 1982 and never returned. Like Susan, Ruth knew Loren Herzog and he is presumed to be her killer. Leamon was not pregnant when she went missing. Herzog and his accomplice, Wesley Shermantain were in jail at the time of Laci’s disappearance. Evelyn Hernandez
- See information below. Law Enforcement has a prime suspect and the case is considered solved, but not closed.
All in all, four of the women’s cases are solved and closed (Lynsie Ekelund, Jeanette Gomez Espeleta, Jeannine Sanchez Harms, and Heather Carpenter). Seven cases are not closed but have been practically solved (Tera Smith, Ruth Leamon, Susan Bender, Kristen Smart, Kristen Modafferi, and Toni Clark). Five cases-Karen Modaffi, Consuelo Lomeli, Guadalupe Areias, Ruth Bender, and Amparo Aguilar-do not exist at all. Aguilar and Lomeli may have been located alive. Ornaith died at sea in what was most likely an accident.
The only cases that are unsolved are, Teiaar Nakea Rowe, Kathy Sweet, and Angelina Evans, Wendy Abrams-Nishikai, and of course Evelyn Hernandez. Let’s take a closer look. The Unsolved Teiaar Rowe
was found dead in Stockton, California in an almond orchard. Rowe was 24 or 25 years old at the time. She was clad in only a black-and-white skirt. Detectives said they believe someone dumped Teiaar Nakea Rowe's body in an orchard after killing her elsewhere. The San Joaquin County Sheriff's Department located Rowe's car in south Stockton. Rowe left behind a husband, four siblings, and several children. Her cause of death was stabbing. Rowe was a similar age to Laci, but she was not pregnant. Rowe was also African American and she was not found in or near the water. If you have any information on Rowe’s case, please call the San Joaquin county sheriff’s office cold case unit at (209) 468-5087. Kathy Irene Sweet
was found dead inside her boyfriend’s truck in north Modesto in 1998. Kathy’s boyfriend has been questioned and partially cleared by the sheriff’s office. Sweet was in her 30s at the time of death. Sweet also used the name Kathy Irene Meadows and sometimes went by the name Cindy. She was not pregnant, she was white, and she was not in water. Tragically, there is only one Facebook post on this case; that is the only information available. Please call Stanislaus area crime stoppers at 209-521-4636 if you have information on this crime. Angelina Evans
was 26 years old when she was last seen in Sacramento, California in May, 2001. From the Charley Project,
“Witnesses saw Evans get into a pickup truck painted black with primer. She has never been heard from again. Evans's family members told authorities that it is uncharacteristic of her to leave without warning. A baby was abandoned shortly after Evans was reported missing, leading to speculation that she was the child's mother. That theory has never been confirmed. Evans's case remains unsolved. Evans's family says she was associating with a rough crowd at the time of her disappearance. She is a Hiram Johnson High School dropout who left behind five children when she disappeared. She was living in a motel on Stockton Boulevard in Sacramento.”
Like Laci, Angelina was pregnant and in her mid-20s. However, she is not Hispanic or Hispanic passing nor was she found in water. Angelina was believed to be a doe who was found in a burnt-out dumpster in June, 2001, but DNA has ruled it out. If you have any information about Angelina’s disappearance please call the Sacramento Police Department at 916-264-7895 or 916-264-5655. This case unlike the others is somewhat similar to Laci’s case. Wendy Jamie Abrams-Nishikai,
age 21 was a UC Berkeley student with a young daughter. Wendy was last seen on Halloween 1989. She was not pregnant at the time. Although her race is listed as white, she could pass for other races such as Asian or Hispanic/Latina. Abrams-Nishikai is still missing and very little information is available in her case. If you have information please contact the Berkeley Police Department at 510-981-5938. Evelyn Hernandez
- For years, Evelyn has been called the other Laci. Her case was first compared to Laci’s case by attorney Matt Dalton who was briefly a member of Scott Peterson’s defense team.
Evelyn Hernandez was an immigrant from El Salvador who was living in San Francisco in 2002. She was 24 years old and had a five-year-old son named Alexis who she was raising on her own. Alexis’ father was a man in a navy who Evelyn had briefly dated but he was no longer in Evelyn or Alexis’ lives. By age 24 Evelyn was working in the medical profession and was dating a mechanic named Herman Aguilera. Evelyn was 39 weeks pregnant in May 2002, when she was last seen at a convenience store near her boyfriend’s home. Some sources say she was last seen at her son’s school on the same day. At the time Evelyn had just discovered that Herman, the man she had been seeing for quite some time, was actually married. According to family members, Herman was upset that Evelyn was pregnant and told his friends that he didn’t want another child. On May 7th, 2002 Herman reported Evelyn and Alexis missing. In July a pair of legs and a torso washed up on the shore of the Bay only a few blocks from Aguilera’s work place. DNA testing showed that the body was Evelyn’s. Herman immediately “lawyered up” and his wife provided him with a rock-solid alibi. Herman has since left the area but law enforcement has always considered him the prime suspect in the murder of Evelyn and the disappearance of her son Alexis. Tragically, the body of Evelyn’s full-term baby boy, Fernando, has never been located. Please call the San Francisco Police Department at 415-553-1071 if you have any information.
This story is all too tragic, and the parallels to Laci’s case are astounding. Evelyn and Laci were about the same age. Both women were hugely pregnant. Both were recovered from San Francisco Bay, headless and armless. But most importantly, neither appear to be the work of a cult or serial killer, rather both were most likely victims of domestic violence. Evelyn’s case may mirror the case of Laci but it does not prove that pregnant women were disappearing without a trace. Besides this story, none of the other women disappeared or died in circumstances similar to Laci Peterson. Let’s look now at the cases of the pregnant women Toni Clark
died it was likely a tragic car accident in San Francisco, 90 miles from Modesto. Guadalupe Castro
was last seen in Washington state, 1000s of miles from Modesto, and her husband is most likely to blame. Jeanette Gomez Espeleta
’s case has been solved. Again, her boyfriend was perpetrator. And she lived in San Diego area, not anywhere near Modesto. Angelina Evans’
case is a little like Laci’s but there is not enough evidence to know anything for sure. Evelyn Fernandez
’s case is similar to Laci’s but her boyfriend is the most likely suspect. What about those in Modesto? Kathy Sweet
was not pregnant and was in her 30s when she was found dead in Modesto. Very little is known about this case- but it doesn’t bear any resemblance to Laci’s disappearance and murder. Susan Robin Bender
age 15 from Modesto went missing in Modesto after getting into someone’s car in 1986 at the bus station. Susan was not pregnant. Susan was acquainted with Loren Hertzog and Wesley Shermaintine, a serial killer pair who are presumed to be her killers. An old friend of Susan’s is also a suspect. (Shermantine and Herzog, the Speed Freak Killers, were in jail at the time of Laci’s disappearance.) Ruth Leamon
, 16, went to a Modesto store for a soda in 1982 and never returned. Like Susan Ruth knew Loren Herzog and he is presumed to be her killer. Leamon was not pregnant when she went missing. She is also white and the case does not resemble Laci’s case Conclusion
In conclusion, I set out to write up the cases of the missing pregnant women from the Modesto area but instead I discovered something stranger. After reading about all these people and looking into the unsolved cases, I think it is safe to say that the missing, pregnant Modesto women don’t exist and the outcry about a serial killer being involved in the murders of Laci or Evelyn, was not a misunderstanding. It was a well calculated, fear mongering tactic used to by the Peterson family to create doubt that simply doesn’t exist. And the media ate it up like a salacious sex scandal. So, the next time your friend tries to convince you that Scott Peterson was nothing more than an adulterer, and that a serial killer or satanic cult was actually to blame, remind them that the victims of the killer don’t even exist. And without victims there isn’t a crime spree. Sources http://charleyproject.org/case/ornaith-murphy https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speed_Freak_Killers https://www.nih.gov/news-events/news-releases/homicide-leading-cause-pregnancy-associated-death-louisiana http://charleyproject.org/case/alexis-geraldo-hernandez https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disappearance_of_Kristen_Modafferi https://www.altaonline.com/dispatches/a5143/a-tale-of-two-killings/ http://charleyproject.org/case/wendy-jamie-abrams-nishikai http://pwc-sii.com/Research/research/serial.htm https://www.sjgov.org/sheriff/coldcases/03-17268.pdf
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2020.10.31 07:52 mcjunker Listen
I was in Shindand Air Base, Afghanistan, 2014. The snippets of news from back home suggested that Iraq was getting crazy, but I wasn't in Iraq, I was in Afghanistan. I had been promised a high speed deployment supporting MARSOC.
Technically, I was supporting MARSOC. They were packing their bags and breaking down their equipment while we pulled tower and gate guard for them.
It's like that sometimes.
Anyways, there I was up in the guard tower in the middle of summer, seven months into a nine month deployment.
Off to my left was an empty school. Off to my right was an open field. Down below me was an ANSF checkpoint blocking entrance to Shindand Air Base. To get to us while we slept, the Taliban would have to get through them, and then through the American gate guards behind them, and then through my platoon mates guarding our private compound on base. And of course, if someone tried get through the ANSF guys I'd use the 240.
It was just another fucking day up there. I had me a mini Rip-It and sunflower seeds to keep my mouth occupied, a nice comfy chair of sandbags to sit on, plenty of nothing to look at.
The month before, I'd had a friendly chat on the main section of base with a Major in Intelligence. He'd told me that the local insurgents were, and I quote directly, "the Taliban National Guard". Drug farmers, mostly. They only shot at us and killed government agents because we kept burning their opium fields down. So, not exactly a bunch of frothing at the mouth fanatics willing to launch a human wave attack against our Hesco barriers.
The temptation to take that fucking helmet off in the heat was omnipresent. "There's no danger here," that little voice kept whispering. "It's hot. This shit is heavy. My neck hurts. Fucking chin strap." I fought the voice by reflex, but couldn't bring myself to believe that any fragmentation was coming my way.
Just another fucking day in the guard tower. One more shift in a long line of them, with plenty more to come.
That day I was watching a group of kids play in a ditch near the ANSF checkpoint. Little fuckers. Hard to tell their age from 40 meters away. Either a malnourished ten years old or a tall and chunky six, or some mix thereof. I watched them. No real reason. Nothing else was moving except some of the Afghan soldiers were popping a squat and drinking tea. The kids fucked around playing in the dirt, the ANSF did ANSF shit, and I watched and hummed sad Irish songs to myself under my breath.
One of the kids drew out a black handgun from inside his mad dress thing, whatever you call it. I froze for a split second, agonizing in a sudden panic- I could lock the bolt back on the 240 and kill the little bastard time now, but the burst would probably catch his little friends who didn't have guns. I could nail him with my M4, but I didn't have the red dot turned on and it would take to many seconds.
I'll tell you the truth. I lean forward into the stock of the machine gun, yank the bolt back, line up the iron sights, and squeeze the trigger for a brief second. The shots hammer my ear drums to shit. I can see the bullets zip through a swirl of disturbed air as the kid with the gun got chopped in half.
Ever hit a nail with a hammer? Ever miss the center of it ever so slightly, so that the lip of the nail head get chipped at and bent? That was what it was. I bent the kid. I chipped at him. Bone broke, blood flooded. He was chipped alright.
I killed that child. Wounded one of his friends too, who got caught in the cone and lost his hand.
I felt empty inside. Not really empty... empty just means there isn't anything there, and that's not it at all. It's more like a plug being yanked out of a drain so the water swirls away. It was an active, draining kind of empty, one that is not passive and peaceful but proactively sucks your life out through your heart.
When I was a kid, maybe eight years old, my cat was attacked by a raccoon and got his guts ripped out. Mom brought him in and wrapped him in an old towel so we could transfer him to the vet. My kitty was so calm and relaxed, even as his intestines were hanging out of his belly. My sister was crying silently in the corner and I was staring at my favorite pet die in a small puddle of cat blood. *That* is what I felt- a sickened, creeping, dreadful horror that builds and builds and builds to a climax that just never comes. That's what I felt again, watching that chipped little kid die.
Listen. That was a fucking trick. Hollywood bullshit. Never happened. I was lying to you.
Here's what happened.
I was in the guard tower, bored out of my mind. My helmet was fucking killing me because I'd slept weird and my neck hurt, but I'd found the perfect way to lay back against the sandbags to take the weight of the kevlar off my neck. I was watching the kids play in the ditch near the ANSF checkpoint because there was nothing else to look at.
One of them pulled a handgun out of his little man dress.
I freeze and frickazee out, trying to balance the competing instincts. I'd had self-control under stress drilled into me, but I also knew I had to kill on command. I am torn. He's a kid. He has a gun mere meters away from our allies. Fucking Taliban child soldier at my twelve o clock.
I jam my shoulder into the stock of the 240 and get my hand on the charging handle. I'm still torn. I'd hate to shoot this little motherfucker and end up on CNN. I'd hate if those Afghans below me got killed because I was too nice to play rough.
Resolved. Fuck it. Time to kill.
I'm sighted in and ready but the little bastard aims the gun at his friend's head and pulls the trigger before I can.
The gun goes click click click not at all unlike a mechanical clock. The kids laugh and continue fucking around with their toy gun. I'm stuck up in the guard tower still hyperventilating trying to process what I just saw.
"You little fucker," I hear myself say. "We kill American kids back home for that shit. What you think I'll do to you? You're fucking Muslim!"
I giggled to myself and lean back into my resting position, cracking my neck to reduce the tension, trying to get my breathing under control. Jesus, what a fucking moment. Jackasses. Christ.
Later, when I'm being relieved by my bro, I crack a joke about shooting these stupid fucking kids before heading off to get chow.
Listen. I'm sorry. I'm being fucking self-indulgent and meta here, but that was also bullshit. I keep lying to you. Honest apologies, that didn't happen either.
Here's what actually happened.
I was up in the guard tower, bored as hell. I don't remember what was up with my helmet. Wearing it was like Chinese water torture because I really did have neck pain, but I had no head rest to prop it up. I may have had the chin strap off so my scalp could breathe a little. I did that sometimes, maybe one shift out of ten. I don't recall if I lapsed into unprofessionalism that day or not.
I saw the kids playing in the ditch. They were skinny little fuckers by American standards but decently well fed by local standards. Rumor had it that the village nearby was a recent addition to the landscape dating from the 80's, staffed with immigrants from the USSR. The surrounding villages all hated their guts and livers. These kids would probably be shot or raped or both if ISAF ever pulled out.
I was watching them because they were the only thing moving out there, except for one of the ANSF dudes popping a haji squat by his hut to eat.
One of them pulled a black handgun from his waistband.
I watched silently as he pointed it at his friend's head and pulled the trigger. I smiled and shook my head when I heard the mechanical click click click and the gleeful giggling. I was the same way at their age, always playing cowboys and Indians and cops and robbers and shit. Dangerous fucking past time, though, round these parts. Nothing saying I might not have panicked and gunned their little asses down- not like America where the tips of the gun are painted orange by law, that one looked for all the world like a real fucking gun down there.
Shit, why hadn't I done anything? Inertia? Did I just freeze in panic at the sight of a gun? Naw, I was ready for them. Had my 240 right there, one yank away from being ready to rock and roll. No, bad plan. The 240 was overkill, I'd probably pop three of them on top of the kid I was aiming at. Coulda just used my rifle. Except the red dot was off to conserve battery power. Would have taken some time to get that ready.
Jesus fuck, how am I this blasé and casual about murdering kids? I made the right call, didn't I? It was a fake fucking gun, I didn't panic and freeze, I just looked down and correctly assessed that I wasn't dealing with a threat! Did I want to have an excuse to shoot little kids and chop their fucking hip bones into red ruin with 7.62? Did I want to be the kind of man that can do that to kids at the drop of the hat, rip their guts out like a rabid raccoon so their parents and brothers and little sisters can wrap them up in old blankets and go cry in the corner?
But of course, I'm already kind of there, aren't I. I'm already prepped for it. Any moment of any day. I'm a child killer waiting to happen. Not dangerous or careless enough to actually do it, just immoral to deliver the goods on demand.
Fuck's sake. I'm a Christian though, aren't I?
Listen. You probably recognize the pattern by now. That navel-gazing session up there is also a lie. That just isn't how it happened.
I can sit here and type this shit out forever. A million variations on the same theme. But here's what actually happened. It's so accurate that it becomes useless; that's why I lied earlier. The usefulness trumped the truthfulness.
I trudged up into a guard tower in Shindand Air Base, Afghanistan. The local enemy were drug farmers, not hardened jihadis. I was watching kids play in a ditch near the ANSF checkpoint, because there was nothing else to watch. One of them pulled out a fake gun, and I didn't do anything about it. When I trudged back down that fucking guard tower I was somebody else entirely.
I can't explain to my wife why I scream curse words at the floor sometimes when I get frustrated and lost in my own little world. Why I get excessively negative and sullen and pessimistic about everything in the world and more besides. She hates that about me; it reminds her of her dad. I can't explain it to her properly, because I remember it a little differently each time. Someday I may not remember it at all and will merely have the familiar words of the story lodged in my head, and perhaps a vague memory that I'd once been a soldier.
You had to sit through three stupid versions of it here. I get a new one every day.
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2020.10.29 00:38 MadUncleSheogorath The Britons #9: Mutant Rights
Marvel's Non-Canon Universe Presents..!
The Britons! Issue #9: Mutant Rights
February 18th, 2020.
Sidney ‘Sid’ Ridley, the long lived Captain Midlands, detested the bureaucracy of London. He had as much passion for it as a small child does for sprouts. The lot of them had chosen to lurk in the old SOHO base, Strange (and) Ominous Happenings Obscurants. Set up by Peter Hunter at the tail end of the First World War when it became clear that shit like Otherworld was becoming all too common. Of course, back then, mutants weren’t around in public. Midlands looked around at the drab design, still stuck in the 70s when Punk was King. How many times had he and James Braddock walked these halls, fags hanging out of their mouths? Course you couldn’t smoke in doors anymore, perhaps a law for the better, though.
Sat at the ‘head’ of the roundtable was John Whitaker, Labour Prime Minister. A good egg, generally had his head screwed on straight. Beside him sat James Jaspers, Minister of the Home Office. A twat, to be honest. Midlands never onced liked him, always looked like a conniving prick. If he turned out to be a nonce, Sid wouldn’t at all be surprised.
Sid turned his head to look towards Theresa Cassidy, long red hair flowing past her shoulders, face as serious as ever. To her left, sat her father Sean, a man at the end of his prime and as serious as his child. Blond hair turning grey, Sean had been an X-Man once upon a time, back when Kosygin still held office. Sean glanced over and nodded. The two of them were the only Irish representation in the room- despite often tenuous relations with Ireland, MI-13 was something of a joint effort.
“Watch this be absolutely shit.” Pete Wisdom muttered on Sid’s other side. Only to be given a stern look by their employer, Alistaire Stuart. Sid glanced over to the brunette friend, yellow eyes staring at the table of bigwigs and agents and all inbetween. Other figures included Moira MacTaggert, a researcher deeply involved in mutants all across the Western World, Mortimer Grimsdale, head of the Joint Intelligence Committee and Alistaire’s boss, along with his assistant the ‘Contessa’ Valentina Allegra De Fontaine. A mouthful of a name, and most called her Val behind her back. Alistaire’s equals in MI5; Philip Gavin and MI6; Jack Tarr, were also present.
A lot of people, perhaps far too many. And all to debate mutants, wholly in response to America’s recent spurious drama about a Mutant Registration Act. The Cassidy’s and Wisdom were all mutants, while Moira worked with them… Sid had no problems with mutants, nor Alistaire. They were simply people, after all.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen…” Whitaker began speaking, leaning back in the seat with a smile. Tall, square jawed and bright-blue eyed. Whitaker had become Prime Minister partly on his charm. “Let’s discuss. As you can tell, this isn’t particularly an… Open conversation, but I want to discuss it with you first.”
Sid rested his hands on his knees, one leg on top of the other, and twirled thumb over thumb. Grimsdale spoke first in response. “The Americans, particularly Senator Kelly, have pushed for a ‘Mutant Registration Act’, designed to keep a database of mutants throughout their country, on the very public basis of security. It’s been suggested to myself by Alistaire, Sean and Moira, that we use this outcry to our advantage.”
Mortimer, toad like in every way, looked to MI13’s shining jewels and raised his brows. Alistaire sat up straighter. “MI13 already investigates mutant activities in the UK and surrounding territories… Making them a potentially valuable cover in regards to Magical activities.”
Whitaker furrowed his brow, doing his best to understand the matter. Jaspers sat forward, listening with interest. Sid felt his stomach crawl. Jim Jaspers always was a man of slime. He’d remained in power for decades, all the way since the 60s. Jaspers should look older than he did. But then so should Sid.
“To elaborate.” Alistaire continued. “We are suggesting the creation of a mutant team for the United Kingdom and Ireland, with their permission, designed to respond to active mutant concerns, and be used to push a ‘mythology is mutants’ angle where appropriate. We’ve already identified two mutants who would be advantageous to this. Megan Gwynn, and Rahne Sinclair.”
Alistaire slid a file across the table to Whitaker. “Megan Gwynn is said to possess ‘fairy-like features’, and Rahne Sinclair has been noted in the area of a wave of werewolf sightings dating back a decade.”
“I don’t see an issue with any of this.” Whitaker stated, looking between them with narrowed eyes. “So I’m sensing there’s a catch.”
“For this to work at peak efficiency, we need the UK to publicly condemn the United States’ plans towards mutants, declare the UK open for all mutants and to start engineering programs to help them.”
Sid glanced from Alistaire to Jaspers, who was turning a shade of beetroot red, as though his head was about to pop. He had a problem with the situation, others began to notice Jasper’s mood, until Whitaker sighed and simply asked ‘what’s the issue?’
“You can’t openly invite mutants! It’s going to suffer disastrous consequences. Powers going off at a whim, cities levelled, children orphaned, hard working citizens pushed out of jobs simply because someone can lift as much as ten men!”
Sean, Theresa and Pete all remained remarkably still and patient, while Moira spoke up, barely contained anger all too present in her accent. A true Scotswoman. “Actually, mutants would face a higher likelihood of workplace abuse in a variety of forms. A stronger mutant, for example, will be pressured by employers more, in this case to use their strength.”
Sean sighed. “Basically, there’s an already unconscious bias that mutants can or can’t, or should do certain things, a bias not typically applied to humans.”
“And when our postal carriers can run at super speed? They could deliver all of our post in a single day- there wouldn’t be any need for regular people. Inviting mutants into The UK will not go down well, Whitaker.”
Whitaker was silent, eyes looking around the room. “He raises a point about safety concerns. Am I right in understanding mutant abilities can be triggered by a variety of stimuli?”
Moira nodded her head. “You are correct. Stress, puberty, even elation, can all trigger the sudden appearance of mutant abilities. But… mutant genes don’t just become a thing at those times, they already exist beforehand.”
Whitaker pulls his eyes from Moira to the Cassidy’s. “And you two? How did your powers come to be?”
Sean sighed, gripping his cane tightly. “I simply had them occur during puberty. Same deal for Theresa.”
Theresa nodded in agreement. “That said, dad was also able to mentor me in using them effectively.”
Whitaker turned his attention then to Pete Wisdom, who was impatiently drumming his fingers on the table surface. “Wisdom?”
“Nah mate.” Pete responded, never one for superiors. “Ma’am got killed by Michael Ryan and my powers bloomed right after.”
The Prime Minister nodded his head slowly, all too aware of that name. Jaspers continued to look like a beetroot to his side. “And for the thousands of mutants from around the world, how many of them are determined to see our fine country fall? Superheroism, let alone mutants, have brought endless problems to our doorstep for decades.”
Sid stared Jaspers down. “The Red Skull.”
“Pardon?” Jaspers asked.
“The Red Skull. He was only stopped due to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.”
“A freak of genetic en-”
“Finish that sentence, and I will throw myself over the table and make you swallow your teeth.” Sid warned. He was born of the same cloth as Steve. Only, he’d lived to see today.
Jaspers narrowed his eyes and sat back into his chair. “If we invite mutants into the UK, who knows how many terrorists with powers will follow suit? We won’t have cars attempting to drive into Parliament- we’ll have people capable of turning gravity on its head completely pulling London apart.”
“And we’ll have mutants capable of reacting to such a threat- much like the Police and Military do so now.” Ridley interrupted.
Jaspers glared, but relented. Whitaker drummed his fingers. “Any other plans?”
“We split MI13’s mutant handling off into a newer agency, better tasked and equipped to handle mutant responsibilities solely- and we maintain responsibility of the truly bizarre, such as Otherworld and E.T’s. This new organisation will be known as MI18, and will be headed up by Peter Wisdom.”
“I take it by that, you mean whatever falls through S.W.O.R.D’s cracks?” Whitaker asked.
“It happens a lot.” Alistaire admitted. “As much as I’m sure S.W.O.R.D likes to pretend it does not.”
Whitaker nodded his head. “I’m still hesitant, you understand. There’s a lot of moving parts to this and Jaspers raises some interesting points- Humans are easier to handle, and we’ve come to better predict and understand magical events, we’ve had centuries to do so.”
Sean Cassidy sighed. “I figured this might be the response. I hope you don’t mind, but I invited some friends.”
Entering stage right, a chair that hovered off the ground gilded closer to the table, an older, bald man sat upon its seat, arms placed squarely on both the rests. He smiled, though it was hard to grasp the meaning behind the smile. Some might have viewed it as sardonic, others as kind. It was a smile intended to disarm the right persons - those who wanted to be disarmed.
Behind him stood a blue man with pointed ears, pointed tail flicking the air like a cat with a fly in its sights. And to their left? Another, bulkier, blue man covered in fur. Relatives perhaps? He looked out of place with a suit and glasses on. A redheaded woman stepped in next, she wore blue and gold, and remained much more visually appealing than the others.
Sean Cassidy rose from his seat, leaning against the stick. “Prime Minister, I’d like to introduce Professor Charles Xavier and several of his X-Men.”
Whitaker rose from his seat, not certain how to greet the man before him - let alone the team who accompanied him. They’d been in the news for seemingly many of the wrong reasons, and were present when the Sentinels were first put into action.
“Uh, welcome to the United Kingdom.” Whitaker spoke, put completely off balance. Jaspers, meanwhile, looked as though he was about to pop. Ridley almost wished he would, smug weasel.
“It’s a fine country.” Xavier smiled. Sean continued.
“I’d also like to introduce Jean Grey, Kurt Wagner and Henry, a man who I’m sure is as pleased to be here.”
“Oh absolutely.” Hank confirmed, blue fur bristling with the warm smile.
The X-Men moved closer to the table and Whitaker took to shaking their hands firmly. Jaspers began to rise from his seat but Beast planted a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.
“How did they get here?” Jaspers demanded, MI13 simply smiled. Mortimer Grimsdale looked equally as concerned, but made an effort to shake hands and greet their guests. The Contessa remained silent and still, seemingly avoiding them.
“They’ve come to help convince you.” Sean remarked.
“Sean was concerned that there may be a push towards rather… anti-humanitarian concepts.” Xavier began. “While the concerns are ultimately real, and have been shown to be present with Cain Marko and Thomas Cassidy. However, making Britain a home for mutants and a well respected one at that, would do much for Britain. Jaspers remarked on the age-old propaganda of ‘But what about my job?’. That said, I believe that a Britain that fully embraces mutants would experience gains in a wide variety of areas. Britain could once again become an economic and industrial powerhouse, it would find itself able to compete with America in the technological department- perhaps even outdo other technologically ascendent nations.”
Whitaker took time to listen, as Xavier spoke highly of a brighter future for Britain. A new Industrial Revolution, a stronger economy, a reverse of the slow brain drain to America. Mutants, it seemed, provided the answers.
“Of course, there will always be bad apples, Prime Minister. But it’s how you come to terms with those apples that will alter the future of Britain. Do you allow them to run rampant, or simply improve your country in such a way so as to minimise the risk? And help those who run that risk.”
Sid walked out into the fresh air of Soho and inhaled, only to find himself being pushed along the pavement by an angry woman with purple hair. He’d taken a single breath in, and already he was being accosted by a fashionista. Not that she wasn’t fantastic at what she did. “Where the fuck is he, Sid.”
“Who?” Sid asked, already knowing the answer.
“Brian.” Betsy pushed him again, and Sid noticed the third Braddock stood behind her.
“Betsy, pushing him won’t help.” Jamie added on.
“Shut up, Jamie.” Betsy responded, squaring up with Sid. “It’s been months. You promised me you’d find Brian. You haven’t. You and your boss have been doing what, sitting around rolling thumbs and reminiscing about the wartime efforts? Is that it?”
Betsy slapped Sid across the face. Immediately Sid grabbed Jamie and Betsy both by the collars and pulled them into the back entrance of Soho Theatre.
“We’ve been looking. He’s nowhere, Betsy. It’s the same situation as last time, all we have is the scraps of his uniform from when Dracula dragged him through the town.”
Betsy didn’t slap, this time. Instead, a prop for Chitty Chitty Bang Bang detonated beside them, followed by another- and another. The lighting rig above the stage shattered soon after, glass launched across the seats.
“Jesus Christ, Betsy.” Sid cried out, looking at the props. “Did you do that?”
“Not important.” Betsy roared, back.
“Not Important?! You just blew up a light with your fucking mind!”
“Don’t change the fucking topic, we need to find Brian.” Betsy demanded, eyes sheening over with a soft purple glow.
The lift dinged behind them as the X-Men and the JIC walked in. Sid glanced to everyone, and nodded, before pulling Betsy and Jamie further out of the way. Mortimer Grimsdale and The Contessa walked out, followed by Jaspers, who gave Sid a scowl. Whitaker shook hands with Xavier once more, and departed after them.
“I have to go. I want a report later on whatever your about to talk about.” Alistaire sighed, following behind the rest of the staff. Sid rounded on Betsy, and Jean grabbed him by the shoulder. “Hang on a second.”
“Betsy, right?” Jean asked, stepping ahead of Sid. “Are you able to do that again?”
“Maybe? I’ve only done it when stressed, so far.”
Sid glanced to Theresa as she left with the remainder of her team- and Kurt and Hank. They nodded, and Sid returned his attention to Betsy.
“Can you explain when else you’ve done it?”
Flustered, Betsy hopped from foot to foot and looked around at the group. “Juggernaut.”
“Juggernaut?” Jean asked, surprised.
“I put my hand out, and there was this purple glow, and he was knocked out. I didn’t even see it properly, I was trying not to get smashed.”
Xavier mused, and looked to Jamie. “Your brother is Capteiniad Alban, yes? Sid was informing me. Remind me, how did he get his powers?”
“From a god. But I had no hand in her stuff.”
Xavier oohed and aahed. Jean spoke up, addressing Betsy. “You can only do this when you’re stressed, right? What’s the current situation?”
“Brian is missing, and this asshole isn’t doing anything.” Betsy pointed at Sid. “That’s why I’m pissed off.”
“I’ve been doing the best I can.” Sid responded. Jean squeezed his shoulder again.
“Alright. I want you to summon that feeling, and focus on a single object. Like… This poster.”
A poster beside Jean for Matilda tore itself from the wall and hovered in front of her, printed side towards Betsy. “And burn it.”
“Burn it. Take all that stress, anger, and focus it here.”
Betsy’s brow furrowed and her eyes squinted somewhat, her hands balled into fists at her side. She ground her teeth, jaw clenched. Sid watched her with a raised brow, looking from Betsy to Jean and then to Xavier. He didn’t think anything was going to happen, but then, Betsy had just blown up a giant lollipop.
The paper began to burn, a small trail of smoke at first, and then a flame. Until it spread faster than Jean could react, going up in flames and leaving the redhead with red fingers.
“Well. You’re certain skilled, potentially a mutant but we’d need to be certain.”
“I can find out if she is.” Moira’s voice called from the lift, leaning against it to prevent the doors from closing. “Shouldn’t be too hard, Alistaire won’t mind my taking over the office I’m sure. You too buddy.”
Moira pointed to Jamie, who blinked in surprise. “Me?”
“You’re her brother, it’s worth a look.” Moira shrugged.
submitted by MadUncleSheogorath
to MarvelsNCU [link] [comments]
2020.10.27 05:47 subreddit_stats Subreddit Stats: CombatFootage posts from 2020-09-11 to 2020-10-26 04:01 PDT
Period: 44.66 days
| ||Submissions ||Comments |
|Total ||918 ||47463 |
|Rate (per day) ||20.56 ||1040.25 |
|Unique Redditors ||370 ||11482 |
|Combined Score ||479917 ||773691 |
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- 5030 points, 9 submissions: DiosMioMan2
- U.S. machine gunners peer from the brush of the Special Forces camp at Bu Dop during a half hour firefight, Dec. 5, 1967. Their company avoided an ambush when a patrol dog alerted the unit to the presence of enemy forces. (3430 points, 76 comments)
- April 1970- James Speed Hensinger of the U.S. Army’s 173rd Airborne Brigade snapped this picture at a compound in Phu Tai, Vietnam. This barrage of intense firepower was in response to a VC sniper who had been opening fire at dusk for the past few nights, killing 1 GI. (527 points, 29 comments)
- A German non-commissioned officer fires his MP-38 submachine gun, Soviet Union, Date Unknown (403 points, 47 comments)
- U.S. soldiers in combat with German forces near the cathedral in Cologne, April 1945. (original color photo) (163 points, 8 comments)
- Soviet soldiers advancing during the Battle of Kursk, 1943. (150 points, 4 comments)
- American infantrymen look up at the tall jungle trees seeking out Viet Cong snipers firing at them. June 15, 1967. (148 points, 3 comments)
- A US Marine throws a grenade toward a Japanese position on Tarawa. November, 1943. (98 points, 4 comments)
- Street fighting in Berlin, 1945 (84 points, 5 comments)
- American tanks attacks Japanese positions with flamethrowers during the Battle of Saipan (July 1944) (27 points, 0 comments)
- 4995 points, 6 submissions: domthedumb
- Insurgents set off some type of explosive as Indian soldiers encircle and breech the house they were sheltering in. Observed and recorded by an Indian OP, J&K, May 4, 2020 (4005 points, 102 comments)
- Mortar section of an Indian infantry battalion provides withering fire support with their OFB 81mm medium mortars, Kashmir 2018 (357 points, 47 comments)
- Indian infantry during a firefight with Pakistani soldiers at the LoC, 2020, use the RCL Mk.III (Indian version of the Karl Gustav) for bunker busting and to attack MG nests as the system is horribly obsolete as an anti-tank rocket (276 points, 47 comments)
- Indian 3 man fireteam in a firefight with insurgents, somewhere in Kashmir. At the end, the FT commander can be seen signalling friendly forces with his rifle as the firefight draws to a close (155 points, 31 comments)
- Photos of the attack by Indian troops on various peaks during the Kargil War. Throughout the course of the war, the Indian Army perfected the art of the cliff assault (as all other approaches were sighted by enemy MGs and were suicidal) and the use of artillery at 16,000ft. In no particular order. (134 points, 62 comments)
- Troops of the 2nd Battalion of the Parachute Regiment (2 PARA) drop in around the Tangail area in Bangladesh around 4:30 pm, December 11, 1971. Their objective was to attack and halt the retreating Pakistani 93rd Brigade and capture the Poongli Bridge (full story below)1 (68 points, 17 comments)
- 4985 points, 1 submission: DMSPKSP
- Am I insane or is this sub turning into an Azerbaijani propaganda subreddit? (4985 points, 738 comments)
- 4557 points, 1 submission: Kayratengri
- Azeri UAV strike on Armenian infantry. Probably on 13 October 2020 (4557 points, 507 comments)
- 4469 points, 1 submission: mjacd
- 2 Armenian Soldiers vs Azerbaijani Sniper (4469 points, 484 comments)
- 3958 points, 1 submission: Berdk1ant
- Abu-al-Walid destroying a Russian helicopter during the second Chechen war (3958 points, 337 comments)
- 3797 points, 4 submissions: nordgrap
- Azerbaijani Army bombing Armenian soldiers (2671 points, 685 comments)
- Azerbaijani army bombing Armenian military infrostracture (645 points, 125 comments)
- More Armenian targets destroyed by Azerbaijani army (264 points, 106 comments)
- Destruction of the Armenian forces in Jebrayil and Xocavend by Azerbaijani Army, TB2 footage (217 points, 149 comments)
- 3614 points, 1 submission: AeroGoat
- The Reality of War - Armenian soldier records his own death - 29 Sept 2020 (3614 points, 862 comments)
- Darthai (12819 points, 597 comments)
- ZrvaDetector (5435 points, 277 comments)
- Storm574 (5404 points, 153 comments)
- outlawnabi (4084 points, 86 comments)
- freshly_bussid_nut (3301 points, 3 comments)
- finsareluminous (3245 points, 15 comments)
- Sickeningsicklord (3164 points, 37 comments)
- floriandeckard (2912 points, 11 comments)
- Meerkateagle (2803 points, 63 comments)
- Heiidegger (2649 points, 44 comments)
- EatMyYaro (2604 points, 130 comments)
- calapine (2540 points, 26 comments)
- zv745 (2530 points, 1 comment)
- MichaelEmouse (2529 points, 37 comments)
- r5q4 (2528 points, 34 comments)
- Vercingetorix88 (2444 points, 12 comments)
- Eeny009 (2398 points, 102 comments)
- Duncan-M (2377 points, 97 comments)
- sgacsgac (2277 points, 54 comments)
- HAMZEHKASASBAH (2128 points, 120 comments)
- NjMoe1 (2104 points, 118 comments)
- inTheMisttttt (2095 points, 21 comments)
- DogBeersHadOne (2087 points, 43 comments)
- adlerchen (2082 points, 80 comments)
- Wtfct (2062 points, 119 comments)
- bodrules (2054 points, 22 comments)
- baris6655 (2053 points, 107 comments)
- SalokinSekwah (2051 points, 3 comments)
- bowfly (2021 points, 6 comments)
- SupremeReader (2006 points, 195 comments)
- Meow_Mixxx (1995 points, 38 comments)
- alohalii (1989 points, 194 comments)
- osku1204 (1970 points, 7 comments)
- Woofers_MacBarkFloof (1954 points, 49 comments)
- faiqfataly (1946 points, 61 comments)
- engin233 (1916 points, 13 comments)
- quickestred (1842 points, 4 comments)
- Munahaukkat (1835 points, 121 comments)
- gallopsdidnothingwrg (1834 points, 82 comments)
- Nyrrom (1781 points, 2 comments)
- Shakazulubaby (1776 points, 30 comments)
- stevenbrotzel91 (1757 points, 2 comments)
- normieslayer1 (1741 points, 2 comments)
- Harry-Hasler (1730 points, 14 comments)
- phpBrainlet (1727 points, 46 comments)
- Mois42 (1692 points, 43 comments)
- MehmetPasha1453 (1684 points, 44 comments)
- cellblock73 (1665 points, 8 comments)
- Vozzyz (1656 points, 49 comments)
- knight_who_says_nu (1589 points, 37 comments)
- BusterScrugs (1586 points, 22 comments)
- Intern11 (1546 points, 33 comments)
- FullTimeJesus (1534 points, 65 comments)
- Arnoldthehawk (1529 points, 3 comments)
- RoninRobot (1521 points, 2 comments)
- theluxemburgist (1518 points, 63 comments)
- Blopper05 (1513 points, 1 comment)
- Rand_alThor_ (1481 points, 54 comments)
- mydudes98 (1468 points, 64 comments)
- Kyro9pyro (1453 points, 40 comments)
- nickthetoothpick (1434 points, 58 comments)
- NotServiceRelated (1409 points, 45 comments)
- UsamaBeenLaggin (1397 points, 28 comments)
- evrenn (1372 points, 31 comments)
- The850killer (1362 points, 13 comments)
- cornonjuhcob (1359 points, 2 comments)
- 66GT350Shelby (1343 points, 52 comments)
- Tough_Juggernaut4008 (1342 points, 32 comments)
- Wild_Hunt (1340 points, 102 comments)
- ivecreatedthisaccoun (1340 points, 60 comments)
- Kurt_Knispel503 (1335 points, 58 comments)
- SmellyDwigt (1335 points, 44 comments)
- lost_in_life_34 (1335 points, 9 comments)
- DrBoomkin (1330 points, 47 comments)
- poincares_cook (1326 points, 151 comments)
- According_Machine_38 (1322 points, 107 comments)
- Vivobook2134 (1310 points, 82 comments)
- cihanthehorse (1303 points, 105 comments)
- bretton-woods (1302 points, 54 comments)
- restform (1295 points, 47 comments)
- explision (1279 points, 11 comments)
- cheesenado (1272 points, 11 comments)
- BWander (1268 points, 6 comments)
- thinkB4WeSpeak (1265 points, 12 comments)
- Reptilian_Brain_420 (1254 points, 5 comments)
- Vanillabean73 (1239 points, 5 comments)
- butterrss (1235 points, 2 comments)
- Haymitch12345 (1234 points, 2 comments)
- barsch07 (1227 points, 10 comments)
- MrGlayden (1222 points, 60 comments)
- Mountain-Serve1 (1219 points, 38 comments)
- Glideer (1199 points, 181 comments)
- Methode_Type004 (1191 points, 62 comments)
- muratings (1188 points, 35 comments)
- kadreto52 (1184 points, 26 comments)
- bsleezy33 (1181 points, 41 comments)
- TartuffeSpryWonder (1179 points, 3 comments)
- Atrotus (1175 points, 111 comments)
- theatras (1157 points, 47 comments)
- CaligulaWasntCrazy (1146 points, 22 comments)
- Car drives right though a russian cluster strike. Douma, Syria November 2017 by Vozzyz (8764 points, 371 comments)
- Forbidden Cluster munition attack by Azerbaijan on city Stepanakert, Nagorno-Kharabagh by haykplanet (8038 points, 1446 comments)
- Iraqi army soldier firing a rpg in quite a interesting way in mosul by Financial_Mechanic42 (7575 points, 277 comments)
- Armenian soldier can't leave his Nutella under Azerbaijani artillery fire by spcbinncbg (7310 points, 396 comments)
- An aerial view of a German gas attack during World War I. by WeAreBrainPolice (7093 points, 244 comments)
- Sgt. Jesse Leach pulling LCpl. Valdez-Cortez to cover after being wounded by sniper fire in Karma, Iraq. Valdez-Cortez survived the ordeal. by WeAreBrainPolice (6958 points, 329 comments)
- German soldiers firing and tossing grenades from their trench in 1915. by WeAreBrainPolice (6589 points, 266 comments)
- Armenian civilians helping to fire Artillery on Azerbaijani positions. by outlawnabi (6496 points, 338 comments)
- First photo of live combat: American Civil War- Union ironclads fire on Confederate Fort Moultrie near Charleston, SC. Photographer was George Cook. by ImGonnaCoomAhhhhhh (6351 points, 160 comments)
- “An Elusive Enemy” - A collection of photos from the Battle of Hue by Storm574 (6328 points, 199 comments)
- 3066 points: freshly_bussid_nut's comment in Rebel sniper hits a impressive shot on a running SAA fighter. Aleppo, Syria 2016.
- 2820 points: finsareluminous's comment in Am I insane or is this sub turning into an Azerbaijani propaganda subreddit?
- 2530 points: zv745's comment in Forbidden Cluster munition attack by Azerbaijan on city Stepanakert, Nagorno-Kharabagh
- 2342 points: floriandeckard's comment in Azerbaijani precision strike on Armenian reserve forces (released 30.09.2020)
- 1987 points: SalokinSekwah's comment in Forbidden Cluster munition attack by Azerbaijan on city Stepanakert, Nagorno-Kharabagh
- 1860 points: MichaelEmouse's comment in Rebel sniper hits a impressive shot on a running SAA fighter. Aleppo, Syria 2016.
- 1775 points: Nyrrom's comment in Sirens wail as Iron Dome intercepts incoming rockets over Ashkelon, Israel a short while ago
- 1757 points: stevenbrotzel91's comment in German soldiers firing at descending paratroopers during operation market garden (1944, WWII).
- 1741 points: normieslayer1's comment in Armenian troops and volunteer fighters planting the Armenian Flag on a position they supposedly took from Azerbaijan.
- 1720 points: bowfly's comment in Azeri UAV strike on Armenian infantry. Probably on 13 October 2020
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2020.10.24 10:02 cww1968 Random Friday Rewatch Discussion - TOS S1E4 "The Naked Time"
It's not late, it's still Friday in east Samoa ;)
Episodes will be randomly selected by this
unknowable machine. Star Trek - Season 1 Episode 4 "The Naked Time" Release date:
29 September 1966
Plot Summary, from Wikipedia: The USS Enterprise under the command of Captain Kirk arrives at the dying planet Psi 2000. Their mission is to observe and document the planet's breakup, and to retrieve a research team stationed on the planet. Mr. Spock and Lt (junior grade) Joe Tormolen beam down and find the researchers' life support system shut down and the team frozen to death—one fully clothed in a shower, one seated at a control console as if nothing was wrong, and one who was strangled. Tormolen removes his environmental suit glove to scratch his nose and comes in contact with a strange red liquid. The landing party is beamed back to the ship and examined by Chief Medical Officer Dr. McCoy. McCoy finds no medical issues with them and allows them to return to duty. While having lunch, Tormolen begins to act irrationally, expressing hostility towards other crew members, and threatening Lieutenants Sulu and Riley with a knife before turning it on himself. His wound is not life-threatening, but in sick bay he dies after a successful surgery, to McCoy's bewilderment. Both Sulu and Riley also begin to behave irrationally. Sulu acts like a 17th-century swashbuckler in the style of The Three Musketeers, while Riley revels in his Irish ancestry, locks himself in the engineering section, and proclaims himself captain of the Enterprise. Those whose skin they have touched follow suit, and the infection quickly spreads through the crew. As they abandon their posts, the ship's orbit destabilizes and it falls into the planet's erratic gravity well. As the Enterprise enters the upper atmosphere, the hull begins to heat. Chief Engineer Scott regains control of engineering from Riley, but Riley has shut down the engines. It will be impossible to restart them by normal procedures before the Enterprise crashes into the planet. Spock becomes infected when Nurse Chapel takes his hands and confesses her love for him. Spock struggles to contain his emotions, and infects Captain James T. Kirk when he tries to help. McCoy studies blood samples from his patients and water from Psi 2000 and finds that the water from the planet possesses a previously undetected complex chain of molecules that affects humanoids like alcohol, depressing the centers of judgment and self-control, and is transmitted by touch. He develops a serum to reverse the effects, administering the initial doses to the command crew to allow them to bring the ship back under control. Kirk orders Scott to make a full-power restart of the warp engines, a dangerous process that mixes matter and antimatter in a cold state to create a controlled implosion and drive the ship away from the planet. This is suggested by a theory postulating a relationship between time and antimatter, but it has never before been attempted. The restart is successful, propelling the Enterprise at impossible speed away from the planet into a space-time warp that sends the ship back 71 hours in time. Spock comments that they now know a way to travel back through time. Kirk's response is "We may risk it someday, Mr. Spock."
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2020.10.17 00:11 MGTElite489 Rise From The Underground, Part III: Graduation
Part I Here Part II Here
We left off at the feud between Kevin Owens and Sami Zayn. After costing him a chance at the Money In The Bank, Kevin Owens revealed that he had backing from Stephanie McMahon as a way to stick it to her brother Shane. With the brand split looming, Shane and Stephanie used Sami and Kevin as their respective pawns to determine who would get the first pick in the Draft. At Summerslam, after months of turmoil and emotional battles, Sami Zayn was finally able to conquer Kevin Owens, and finish off his business with the man who's made his life a living Hell for more than a year. Now, Sami Zayn is looking forward to new challenges as we finally see what to make of the new rosters following WWE's last night as one big pool of competitors. WWE Draft
Most of the big picks are staying the same, except for obviously Sami Zayn moving over to Smackdown Live and one big change that'll be important in the future. Guys like Dean Ambrose, AJ Styles, Bray Wyatt, Randy Orton, Baron Corbin, the Miz, and Apollo Crews all go to the blue brand like in real life. The one change I was talking about is: Gallows and Anderson are drafted along with AJ, keeping the Club together. Partly due to the Club literally just getting together in the summer as a full on heel stable, but mainly because Karl and Luke were absolutely WASTED without Styles. So let's keep them together, enhance AJ's heel character while also keeping those guys relevant, nothing wrong can possibly come out of this. Anyway... let's get back to Sami's road to Smackdown's first brand exclusive PPV. Build To Backlash
After defending against Roman Reigns and Seth Rollins in the long awaited Shield Three Way at Summerslam (cause fuck Dolph Ziggler, and why have it at a B-level PPV, the fuck?), and both guys being sent to the red brand, WWE Champion Dean Ambrose is ready to run through this whole new, leaner roster full of hungry guys, people who want to dethrone Dean and reclaim that title, lower level wrestlers who never really had opportunities in the first place who will surely not squander it now. Shane McMahon and Daniel Bryan open up Smackdown Live like they did in real life, debuting the blue brand's new look, introducing all the new championships to fight for. The roster fills the ring and spills out to ringside, and Dean Ambrose is there, front and center with Intercontinental Champion The Miz and the authority figures. Shane McMahon then caps off his monologue by introducing the very man who helped Smackdown in a great deal at Summerslam. He is the reason why they were able to claim #1 Overall Pick Dean Ambrose in the Draft. The Underdog From The Underground... Sami Zayn. Zayn comes out to a big pop, wearing a Smackdown Live shirt, representing his brand proudly, before stepping into the ring and shaking hands with Shane, smiling at Bryan and embracing him fully.
Daniel Bryan takes over and begins to speak, saying that for Sami's efforts in defeating Kevin Owens, and embarrassing Monday Night Raw, he definitely deserves the first opportunity on Smackdown Live. He reiterates that everything here is earned, and at Summerslam, Zayn without a doubt earned what he's about to say. But just as he's about to speak, Dean Ambrose takes the microphone, telling a surprised Bryan to chill, he's got this. Ambrose says that Sami Zayn was part of his favorite match on Summerslam (apart from his own), and gives him props for knocking that asshole Kevin Owens all around the Barclays Center. Ambrose says that he's glad for a fresh start, and for more ass to kick, so he's happy that Zayn scored a win for Smackdown and led to Shane getting him on here. So why not reward that, by letting Sami Zayn have the first crack at the WWE Championship, AT SMACKDOWN'S FIRST PPV, BACKLASH! Sami smiles, and nods, Shane and Daniel positively mirroring him. Bryan said Dean took the words right out of his mouth perfectly. At Backlash, Smackdown Live undergoes a new era, a rebirth, and that new era's first PPV main event with be the Underdog From The Underground, Sami Zayn challenging the Lunatic Fringe, Dean Ambrose, for the WWE World Heavyweight Championship!
For the rest of the build, it's just Dean Ambrose and Sami Zayn having a feud built on mutual respect, both men training their hearts out, wanting to come out the victor and claim the WWE Championship as their own. Dean Ambrose is the off kilter brawler that somehow made the big time, and he's well used to have haters in his ear and challengers at his heels. Sami is somewhat the same way, despite being one of the best wrestlers in the world, he constantly deals with doubts from others, and deals with a lot more than hitting a few moves and making a pinfall. Both men have had to deal with betrayals, and both men put that part of their lives behind them at Summerslam. Now, it's time to forget about the ghosts, and focus on not becoming
a ghost at the expense of the other. The battle for Smackdown's throne culminates, at Backlash! Backlash 2016
It's time for the main event, the title match that everybody has been waiting for. Sami Zayn enters for a monumental pop, the crowd behind him as he feels the energy in the building. It's his chance. It's his time. Sami slaps hands and bumps fists with as many people as possible, knowing that he's about to have the biggest match of his career. Dean Ambrose follows, and the audience can't help but cheer him as well, their favorite Lunatic wearing the strap around his waist as he steps into the ring and comes face to face with one of his toughest challenges to date. The referee takes the title, and raises it up to the sky, before handing it over to the ring crew, and calling for the bell. AND WE'RE OFF! WWE Championship: Dean Ambrose (c) vs Sami Zayn
Dean and Sami go at it, and it neither is giving an inch. Dean is going all the way with the brawling, the hard-hitting offense, and Dolph is constantly trying to evade the punches, using his luchador style and his technical prowess to frustrate Dean. The match breaks down into a brawl, as both men target the other with devastating punches and kicks. Dean tries for a Dirty Deeds, but Zayn reverses it into a Northern Lights suplex, getting a near fall. Sami tries for a big Helluva Kick attempt, but it's reversed when Dean catches him and throws him over his shoulder, forcing him to tumble to the outside! Dean capitalizes by hitting not one, but two Tope Suicidas, showing Zayn he's not the only one who can fly! Dean tries for a third, but is slower due to fatigue, and Zayn jumps back in and battles back with a rebound dropkick, nearly knowing Dean out of his boots! Sami is just about ready to spell the beginning of the end, but but Dean tackles him, and forces him to the ground, bashing his face in with unprotected punches! Zayn has nowhere to go as Dean takes control of the match, and begins to build momentum! Zayn finally pushes Ambrose off, and scrambles to his feet, throwing a wild forearm, ONLY FOR DEAN TO SIDESTEP AND SLAM HIM BACK DOWN! Zayn scrambles up yet again, but Ambrose is already preparing for the deathblow, KICK TO THE GUT! DIRTY DEEDS LANDS, IT'S OVER! 1... 2... SAMI KICKED OUT, HE'S STILL ALIVE!
Dean, frustrated, picks himself up, and climbs the top rope, looking for a big move. He gets his feet set, only for Sami Zayn to rise to his feet and lands a big chop, laying a hot hand across the chest of the WWE Champion! Sami rushes up the turnbuckles, blasting him with shots the head, trying to keep him grounded so he can't fly. Dean battles back with a big forearm of his own, but Sami lands a big palm strike that subdues him! Sami looks out to the crowd for a bit, and looks for the big move to steal the show, and the match! AVALANCHE HURRICANRANA, NO, DEAN HOLDS ON! Zayn crashes to the mat, and Ambrose is once again setting up to fly! Just as Zayn picks himself up, Dean leaves his feet, and flies through the air! LUNATIC FRINGE ELBOW DROP TAKES DOWN ZAYN! 1... 2... SAMI GETS THE SHOULDER UP! Now Ambrose is pissed, and now he's pounding on Zayn. Sami tries to escape the attack, and crawls over to the corner, and Dean keeps trying to continue the attack, but the referee pushes him back for the break. Dean goes back to the attack, and the same thing happens. Ambrose walks back up to Zayn, ONLY FOR SAMI TO COUNTER INTO A SCHOOLBOY ROLLUP! 1... 2... AMBROSE JUST ESCAPES IN TIME! Dean scrambles to his feet, and tries for a second Dirty Deeds, no! Sami pushes him off, and looks for a Sunset Flip Powerbomb! He's about to float over and slam Dean down, but he gets thrown off his shoulders! Kick to the gut, hook the arms, Dirty Deeds incoming! NO, IT'S REVERSED INTO A JACKNIFE PIN! 1... 2... ONCE AGAIN, AMBROSE KICKS OUT!
Zayn immediately lets go, and runs, bouncing off the ropes and taking a sitting Ambrose's head off with a lariat! Dean slowly makes his way to his feet, pulling himself up by the ropes, only for Sami to send him flying through the ropes! Sami rolls out of the ring, and watches Dean as he makes his way to his feet, trying to shake off all the offense he's been taking during the entire match! Zayn sees him turn around, and he knows it's his chance! He runs, the crowd holding their breath as he dives through the turnbuckles, Thread The Needle DDT incoming! HOLY SHIT, DEAN JUST CAUGHT ZAYN, IN MID AIR, DIRTY DEEDS ALL IN ONE MOTION! Like a fucking torpedo, Sami dove and looked to nail his target, but he imploded on the way down! Dean tiredly pulls Sami up, and throws him back into the ring, before slumping over his body, the referee counting. 1... 2... 3. Dean Ambrose survives another trial as WWE Champion. Dean Ambrose defeats Sami Zayn to retain the WWE Championship (20:51)
Ambrose, on one knee, receives his title from the referee, and holds it up as the crowd applauds a certain Match of The Year contender. Dean stands up, and nods confidently, knowing he got the timing perfectly, and it all fell in his favor as well. Dean looks over at his opponent, and he kneels beside him, tapping his chest, telling him he was impressive, he almost got it... but not yet... not just yet. Dean helps Zayn up in the corner, and pats him on the shoulders, giving him props for a good effort. But just as Ambrose is about to leave the ring... this hits
. Oh shit.
AJ Styles enters, backed up by Karl Anderson and Luke Gallows, stares down Dean Ambrose with a smile on his face. Styles crouches, and points the finger guns at the Lunatic Fringe. Together, all three men walk down the ramp, ready to put the hurt on the WWE Champion. Ambrose stands there, weak, tired, but ready to fight all three off. As AJ and the Club are about to storm the ring, Sami Zayn, out of nowhere, springs out of the corner! He uses whatever strength he has left to try and take out their adversaries! TOPE CON HIL-, NO! GALLOWS CAUGHT ZAYN, JESUS CHRIST, A SPINE SHATTERING CRUCUFIX POWERBOMB ON THE UNFORGIVING FLOOR! Gallows, Anderson, and Styles all storm the ring uninterrupted, and beat down Dean Ambrose. Ambrose does his best, but they pick him apart, with Luke Gallows hitting a chokeslam, Karl Anderson connecting with a huge Gun Stun, and AJ connecting with a fatal Styles Clash. The Club Too Sweets over Dean's body to close Backlash. Backlash Fallout
In the aftermath to Backlash, Smackdown Live is being taken over by the Club. AJ Styles and his boys begin to demand opportunities after all three of them were left off the card for Smackdown's first exclusive PPV. So now they're going to put the entire brand on notice. They attack the inaugural Smackdown Tag Team Champions Heath Slater and Rhyno, demanding a shot at the straps. And at the top of the card, we got Dean Ambrose doing his best to fight off Smackdown's three most dangerous alone. After the PPV, it's revealed that Sami Zayn must take some time off, with the hard hitting match against Dean Ambrose and an unforgiving crucifix powerbomb by Luke Gallows taking a toll on him. Out with a concussion for the most part, Sami must let Ambrose fend for himself, who doesn't have a problem attempting to take down Styles' empire of pain. AJ Styles vs Dean Ambrose for the WWE Championship is made for No Mercy, with AJ promising he'll take the strap off of Ambrose's dead body, and Dean telling AJ that he'll bury his head into the mat and continue with his title reign.
At No Mercy, we get the same match we got from Backlash in real life between these two men. AJ Styles targeting Dean's leg, Ambrose coming back at him with blind fury. It all stays the same, and the night ends with AJ Styles connecting with a low blow, and a Styles Clash to claim the WWE Championship, just like he said. AJ Styles walks away with the WWE Title on his shoulder, and he's joined by new Smackdown Tag Team Champions Gallows and Anderson. Once again, a Smackdown PPV ends with the Club standing tall, this time around with all the gold.
After No Mercy, we're thrust right into the brand warfare of Survivor Series. Dean Ambrose wants to reclaim his WWE Championship, but he must wait as Shane and Bryan tells the roster they must stick together for the time being as they go to war with Raw. But sadly, Raw seems to get more and more momentum with every week, as they take over Smackdown Live one week, and are able to hold back a strike of retaliation in the form of an invasion. To make matters worse, Stephanie announces she just made a blockbuster signing. He's known to many as the Face of WWE. He's known to others as a multi time World Champion. He's known to other
others as a star in Hollywood. Yeah, you know who it is
. John Cena enters to thunderous applause, and accepts a Monday Night Raw shirt from Mick Foley. Cena grabs a microphone, and says that while he loves all of WWE, for the moment, he's with Monday Night Raw, and he wants to do his part in making sure his brand is superior at Survivor Series. Which is why he's holding an open challenge against any Smackdown superstar to come face him at the event. Cue... this music
. Yeah, didn't expect that, right? Baron Corbin makes his way out, wearing his Smackdown shirt, staring down John Cena as he rolls in the ring. The crowd is booing the shit out of him, the Lone Wolf taking it all in... ONLY TO FALL BACK AND GET SENT CRASHING TO RINGSIDE! Cena steps back a little bit, Mick's eyes widen, and Stephanie turns as red as Cena's shirt at the sight! Sami Zayn, having just clocked Corbin with a Helluva Kick to a hellacious pop from the crowd, gets back to his feet, and goes face to face with John Cena. He takes Mick's microphone, and says two words, the only words needed for people to lose their minds... "I accept." Survivor Series
John makes his entrance, all smiles despite the split reception as he runs down the ramp and slides in, ready to get this show on the road and create another moment for the WWE Universe to remember forever. Sami Zayn enters to most of the crowd behind him, the audience supporting the younger talent who represents the next generation. Before the bell even rings, the two circle each other, and you can tell this is going to be a good one. As they back up into their respective corners, the referee calls for the bell! HERE WE GO! John Cena vs Sami Zayn
Zayn immediately rushes Cena, surprising him by landing a huge dropkick! The tone of the match is set by Zayn constantly striking, always firing off shots as Cena tries his best to defend. This right here might not have any stipulations aside from bragging rights and brand supremacy, but it doesn't feel like it as Zayn turns up the heat against SuperCena. In the beginning of the match is hugely in Sami's favor, as he makes the match all about his comfort zone, all about the type of fighting that he's used to. He takes down Cena with arm drags and dropkicks, before teasing a Tope Con Hilo... only to stop, and run the ropes, asking if John needs a breather. Cena reenters, and the match goes on, John keeping up with Zayn to the best of his ability. The match greatly resembles Cena vs Daniel Bryan at Summerslam 2013, Cena being smart enough to use his strength to overpower the smaller Zayn.
It goes back and forth, refusing to fall in one's favor long enough to take advantage of. Zayn battles back with his technical ability, and once again uses his speed to take control of the match. Cena has many chances to win the match, landing a big Attitude Adjustment, locking in the STF, and even reversing a Sunset Flip Powerbomb into powerbomb of his own, trying to pin Zayn right after, but each time, Sami escapes and survives! Cena has his moments of resilience as well (cause of course he does), kicking out of a pinfall attempt right after Sami hit a big moonsault, just barely getting his foot on the ropes while Zayn has the Koji Clutch locked in tight, even getting the shoulder up after a Thread The Needle DDT! But in the end, it's still Sami Zayn's bout, as he reverses an Attitude Adjustment into an arm drag that sends him crashing into the turnbuckles perfectly! Sami in the other corner, charging at him full speed, HELLUVA KICK CONNECTS! Cena falls like a rock, and Sami collapses into the pinfall! Is this it? 1... 2... 3! SAMI ZAYN'S JUST PINNED JOHN CENA! Sami Zayn defeats John Cena (14:27)
Zayn lifts his head up in shock, as the crowd explodes at the sound of the bell ringing. Sami clutches his head in disbelief, still not exactly sure how the fuck he pulled that off. Sami picks himself up, the commentators noting that he not only scored a point for Smackdown Live, but he's also expanded his horizon past the world of just the midcard, past the point of "a good hand who can carry an okay match". Zayn has been on the main roster for months now, but it's only now that the world is being forced to take notice, and LOOK at Sami Zayn. He's done away with petty feuds and matches with no weight. Zayn is ready, willing, and able for the main event. Later On In The Night...
In the main event, it's the final Raw vs Smackdown match of the night, Team Raw vs Team Smackdown. Both teams led by the brand's World Champions, World Heavyweight Champion Kevin Owens and WWE Champion AJ Styles. After nearly an hour of insane action between the ten men, it comes down the champions themselves. AJ and Kevin go back and forth, one last workrate sequence after an absolute war of chaos. Styles springs off the ropes, looking for a Phenomenal Forearm, but KO catches Styles, everything going haywire for Smackdown! THUNDEROUS POWERBOMB FROM THE PRIZEFIGHTER! INTO THE COVER! 1... 2... NO DICE! Kevin Owens watches as AJ stumbles back to his feet, and pushes him into the ropes, looking for the deathblow! POP UP POWER-NOPE, AJ WITH THE HURRICANRANA! Owens pulls himself up, AND GETS TAKEN DOWN WITH A PELE KICK! STYLES WITH ALL HIS MIGHT, ALL HIS STRENGTH, HOOKS THE LEGS! STYLES CLASH HITS, PICTURE PERFECT! 1... 2... 3! He got it, AJ Styles has won the match, he's the Sole Survivor, and he's put put the nail in the coffin of Monday Night Raw in brand supremacy! Smackdown has done it, they've done it! The blue brand has unseated Raw as the premier bra- OH NO, OWENS JUST BLINDSIDED AJ!
Kevin barrages AJ with fists and kicks, kicking his ass as revenge for making a fool of him! Owens beats down Styles, making him pay for taking the bragging rights away from Raw. He yanks Styles up, and blasts him with a superkick, causing him to fall into the ropes, barely hanging on. Owens grabs AJ, and is about to Irish Whip him and hit the Pop Up Powerbomb... only for Sami Zayn's music to hit. KO turns, even more furious that he must lay eyes on his old rival once more. Sami runs down, full speed, coming right off his huge victory against John Cena, sliding into the ring, ready to kick another Raw superstar's ass. Sami ducks a clothesline, bounces off the ropes, SUNSET FLIP POWERBOMB HAS KO REELING! HE FALLS INTO THE CORNER, DON'T WANNA DO THAT! ZAYN RUNS AGAIN, HELLUVA KICK KNOCKS OWENS' TEETH OUT! OUT GOES OWENS! Styles is up, and he's clapping his hands, egging on Sami for helping him out. Zayn slowly turns, and remembers the man who's responsible for putting him on the shelf for two months. AJ's smile melts, and Zayn has got a new target. AJ EATS A HELLUVA KICK, SAMI ZAYN IS TAKING NO PRISONERS! Sami riles the crowd up and stands over two World Champions, the audience singing along with his theme, as Survivor Series comes to a close! Epilogue
Following Survivor Series, Sami Zayn fully breaks into the main event scene, making himself a real threat to the rest of the Smackdown roster. At TLC, Sami goes head to head with Dean Ambrose in a rematch, the two jockeying for position in the top ranks on the blue brand, Zayn finally being able to defeat him this time around. Zayn continues to chase, and AJ tries to tune out all the praises of Sami as he continues to defend his title, refusing to let a "little boy" like Zayn upstage him. But the Royal Rumble, AJ cannot ignore and deflect thoughts on Sami, as Zayn enters as the Iron Man, the man everyone wants to get behind, the man who's refused to give in, and leaves as the Royal Rumble winner, the man everyone MUST take seriously, the man of the people, the biggest threat to both of WWE's World Champions, and Wrestlemania Main Eventer. It's finally Sami Zayn's time. At Wrestlemania 33, Sami Zayn and AJ Styles do battle over the WWE Championship in an instant classic, one that ends with the boyhood dream coming true, the Underdog overcoming the odds, and Sami Zayn becoming WWE Champion.
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2020.10.07 22:32 ConorCulture Booking Lucha Underground Season 5 - Episode 11: Gold Rush (another important note)
So...been a while.
So, I know I said last episode I don’t want to spend time rewriting old episodes. But I tried writing this but it was too confusing, I was making too many edits. I had recently read the lore of season 4, and leaned the entire season was building to season 5. But when I started this I was doing it as a fresh new start, where everything else prior was irrelevant. But I was still trying to tie up loose ends. It was all too confusing and I’m sorry, so I’ve gone back and edited every single episode to fit the narrative Season 4 set. Now I’m not asking you to read 10 episodes just to be up to date, that’s ridiculous. I’ve instead made a TL;DR for each episode, where I try and summarise each episode so you can catch the gist, but if you really want you can reread. I’m sorry for this inconvenience but I felt it necessary to continue this. With that being said... Welcome to The Temple! Vipress, Puma King and Dario Cueto meeting:
The show starts with the Aztec warriors in their underground bunker. This is where they met at the end of Season 4, with a vague bit of light shining through the ceiling to hit the floor. Dario Cueto sits down in a standard foldable chair, unusual to his usual padded one + fancy desk. He gets out immediately, subtly saying he is too good for that as soon as Puma King enters. He shakes his hand, and then kisses Vipress’. she raises her eyebrows after a glance and asks Dario why El Dragon Azteca Jr. isn’t here like promised. “Well he couldn’t make it, but I’m here as we’ve yet to meet.” Vipress doesn’t look too pleased. Dario offers a seat but she denies. Puma takes it instead. Dario then quickly introduces himself, finishing off with “but of course you know that.” “El Dragon Azteca Jr. is a good man, but amongst the Aztec warriors we’ve had a bit of turbulence. That’s why Dario is here, as the dog...and not the owner...” Dario takes a moment to think how he got here, but snaps out and says that EDA wants to know of their pasts and Aztec history.
Puma King simply states he’s a warrior here to do what he does, defend his people. Him alongside his other warriors of the Jaguar Tribe have always been the most athletic of the Aztec people, so a fight club is perfect for them. Puma King then gets out the chair and looks through the small crack in the ceiling of their underground bunker, up into the sky, and says he wishes to return home one day, away from war and this life. This is all he knows, but perhaps there’s more than violence and war. Dario says he understands a life of violence, and that he hopes for the best in his future. But for now, this is where he is.
Vipress then chimes in. The Reptile Tribe have always been respected. They made themselves royalty amongst the people through their natural cunning and pride. She was just a girl, thousands of years ago. Not heir to the crown of “Kobra”, far from it. Time passed however, and she grew into the woman she is. Thousands of years ago too though, she stopped growing, as if something needed to be done before she could continue. That was to become Kobra. With the society dead, the world needed that female leader. When she arrived, she saw people who were representing her tribe, the same traits and personality, but nowhere near the prowess. She wasn’t born into it, she made herself it, just like her tribe originally. Cueto admires her drive and says that she should meet Black Lotus, they’d suit each other according to him. Cueto thanks them for the time. “You’ll go far, both of you.” he says. Mercer, Hero of Mexico and El Dragon Azteca Jr. vs. Worldwide Underground - Trios Match
In the opening recap of the show (I don’t include these in the bookings because it’s just writing down what happened recently, and I do a TL;DR at the end of every episode so I don’t feel the need to recap it twice.) we see the segment of The Lord agreeing to give Mercer an opportunity. But the conditions were made clear, Mercer had no control over who is opponents or partners would be. Then in the segment before the match after the ad break, The Lord is seen handing over a wad of cash to another person’s hand, and after a camera cut is revealed as Gringo Loco. He takes the money and walks off with his crew of 4 or 6 guys/gals. They then make their entrance all together, addressed as “Worldwide Underground”. Gringo Loco is at the helm with Diamanté and KC Navarro too, but they’re joined by a different 3, two guys in leather jackets and shorts, and one girl with a bandana, leather jacket and leather pants. Gringo Loco has his tights and a denim jacket with the American flag across the back, but instead of oozing a “cool” persona like his gang, he’s more of an odd one out as he laughs and runs his mouth, with his ginger hair, shades and bandana looking more comical than cool. That is by design however. The crazy foreigner (that’s what “Gringo Loco” means in English) then runs his mouth but is cut off by the beginning of Mercer’s themes
heart pounding opening. He walks out to the stage as the angelic cries sound. He then walks down and owns The Temple, everyone in awe at his presence. His mystery partners then come out, chosen by The Order. Now, we know that Mercer is a part of the Aztec ancestors, and The Order aren’t too fond of them. So, Mercer signed a deal that probably would end in chaos but hey, doesn’t everything in Lucha Underground?
His partners are that of El Dragon Azteca Jr. and Hero of Mexico. That isn’t too bad, right? EDA brought him to The Temple after all, and they’re both Aztec ancestors. Thing is though, Salina de la Renta last week tried to drive a wedge between these two men as she directly told EDA that Hero of Mexico is better than him and he’ll do the Aztec warriors more proud - oof. They come out and seem to have a mutual sign of respect, but we don’t know if that’ll last. Mercer starts off and undresses from his robe, as Gringo Loco continues to trash talk. Mercer then power walks up and offers him his hand, which Gringo takes but then Mercer immediately pulls him in, and Gorilla Presses him into the Gringo Loco’s gang! He then looks out with a tiny grin. He signals for Hero of Mexico to come in, which he obliges to, and Tope’s himself over the top rope into the gang. They catch him to break the fall as per usual, and he slides across their hands so he lands on his feet and then runs up the steps to pump the crowd up. Him and Mercer point at each other from the distance, and then Hero retreats back. Gringo Loco then enters in and slaps Mercer. He gives him a Headbutt and runs the ropes. He tries to collide a Shoulder Block, but Mercer holds his ground. Gringo Loco then kicks him in the gut and hits the Shoulder Block proper. He wipes his mouth and goes back to taunting. He throws Mercer outside where Diamanté and KC Navarro hit double Superkicks to his head. The whole gang then hold him in place for a Suicide Dive!
Gringo Loco then mocks Hero’s taunting atop the stairs, just this time air humping. He then goes back down into the ring where Hero tries to slingshot over, but EDA says he’ll handle business. Gringo is fine with this, and slaps EDA nonetheless. EDA then hits a Handspring Enziguri to Gringo and follows with a Slingshot Leg Drop! He sends him packing outside in a double-team with Mercer, as he Dropkicks him out, Mercer catches, and hits a Michinoku Driver on the outside! KC Navarro then tries to Suplex EDA out onto Mercer, but Mercer grabs him by the legs. He only lifts him onto the apron. KC Navarro then Moonsaults off his shoulders onto Mercer! His gang catch him from falling on the floor. They then separate to surround the ring. Diamanté comes in and awaits El Dragon Azteca Jr, but he’s prepared for her as he ducks a kick and grabs her by the neck. He then jumps off the apron so her neck hits off the ropes. He rolls back in and continues on. He hits a combo of kicks followed with a chop, and then goes for the Tornado Dragon, but Diamanté catches into a Suplex! She then hits a Big Boot to the head of the bent over EDA, who follows into a sitting position, and she hits a Dropkick to him there. She connects the Rolling Cutter and pins, but Hero of Mexico breaks it up. EDA then jumps out the ring onto KC with a Tope Con Hilo over the ring post!
Hero and Diamanté then go high speed. Hero immediately hits a Frankensteiner and pins but Diamanté gets out. Diamanté then runs at him but Hero arm drags, which she counters into a float over pin which Hero gets out of and hits a Roundhouse Kick, followed with a Springboard Head Scissors into the ropes, followed with a Tiger Feint Kick. He goes for a dive then, but he’s pulled out by Gringo Loco and hit with an elbow. EDA and Gringo Loco then both elbow each other, and EDA hits a Hanging Soccer Kick using the apron. Mercer then comes in and counters a Crossbody from Diamanté into a Moonsault and Battery! He tries to cover, but Hero of Mexico comes in and says he’ll finish the job. Mercer leaves, and Hero goes to hit a 630 Senton, and he does so, but he stands up afterwards, and is then rolled up by Diamanté! 1.......2.....3!!!!! The Aztec warriors lose to The Order’s hired gun off a mistake Hero of Mexico made, a man who was deemed to be better than their leader, El Dragón Azteca Jr. EDA looks at Hero with just sheer disappointed, as we cut away. Marty The Moth Martinez promo:
The man on top of the Lucha Underground world at the moment is Marty The Moth. He recently was gifted the Gauntlet of the Gods by The Lord and his ego starts to inflate more than the Zimbabwe economy. His advances on Salina de la Renta are deeply unsettling, with Salina expressing her concern to The Lord that Marty is a dangerous man despite how he can appear normal. Its brushed off though and now Salina’s future in The Order is looking doubtful. Marty is seen in the bathroom with a picture of Salina, crumpled up and by the looks of it…potentially stained. He admires it and starts to laugh maniacally at the thought of her being his. He then starts to talk to the camera, speaking directly to Salina. Marty is a stalker, pretty obvious, but a stalker works in different ways. The most common type of stalker is one looking for power and control over another, which is something that Marty now has an infinite supply of (in his mind) and he thinks he can have anything and everything. He wants Salina for the power and the feeling that would give him. To show off this control over his narrative he has, he mentions how he has killed all those who stepped in his way. Previously Melissa Santos was the girl of his dreams, but she was a selfish bitch who ran away. He then eliminated one less wicked person from this world. And then Pentagon Jr. tried to take away all he cared about, the Lucha Underground Championship, but he was unsuccessful. Then Marty made sure he could never step up to him again. He says that after he wins the Lucha Underground Championship once again tonight and takes back what is rightfully his, he will have everything. And if Salina doesn’t want him, well that’s too bad. She will be his no matter what on earth will stop him. The Mack, Dante Fox and Dezmond X vs. The Black Lotus Triad - Trios Cup Semi-Final Match
To refresh each member of The Black Lotus Triad: Miho (Tam Nakano), Oyuki (Hana Kimura) and Yagyu (Arisa Hoshiki). When we return from commercial Matt Striker and Vampiro are in the middle of a recap, when they’re cut off by the audience’s attention all shifting to Black Lotus perched up high in The Temple. Vampiro makes the obligatory “she is so hot, Matt” comment, before she clicks her fingers. She hops over the guardrail and stands atop the office, and looks down at the entrance way. This is when Miho, Oyuki and Yagyu
all come out. Black leather pants, black brassieres, we have the three very different women all connected by one trait and one cause. Small but fiery Miho, charismatic but vicious Oyuki, and the terrifyingly dangerous Yagyu – built on nothing but anger, bloodied opponents and broken arms. They all stand in the ring as their master looks down from atop their enemies office, before she storms off through the shadows. You need to be tough to match a scary group of people, fearless, and a bit reckless. Dante Fox, The Mack and Dezmond X all meet these criteria. They climb down the stairs as the Black Lotus Triad realise they’ve met their match. Win and they can hold the Trios gold, but they must over come this opposing triad first. Dezmond X volunteers to enter first, meanwhile Miho does too. Dezmond offers a handshake which Miho accepts, and this establishes the face vs. face dynamic. Dezmond then turns around to murmer a plan, but not before he’s Germaned by Miho!!
Miho stomps on Dezmond X and takes him to the corner. She stomps and stomps down, and then runs from one corner to the other for a Kitchen Sink! She bangs the side of her knee into his head over and over, really showing their aggression. Dezmond then slides under a stomp and hits an Arm Drag. This is when the even action begins. Miho runs for him but he tosses her into the ropes. She rebounds and slides under a leapfrog, then hits the Twilight Dream! 1……2…..Kick Out!! Dezmond rolls out and then Willie Mack comes in, but he’s immediately hit with a 1399!! She tries a Tiger Suplex, but The Mack lifts her into a Samoan Drop followed by a Standing Shooting Star Press! Commentary hype up how this would crush Tam, having a man well over twice her weight jump on her. Tam then rolls out, and this is when Oyuki confidentially sets up to the plate. She looks Mack up and down, then ducks a Clothesline which makes him run into Yagyu – who decimates him with an elbow. Oyuki then hits two consecutive big boots, and when she runs back for a third, she instead hits a picture-perfect dropkick to Dante Fox! Dezmond X and Dante Fox are both now on the outside. Oyuki calls in the others of the Black Lotus Triad to come in the ring and take on The Mack. Oyuki and Miho both Irish whip The Mack into Yagyu, WHO LIFTS HIM UP AND DUMPS HIM OUTSIDE!! Mack sentons himself into his trio mates as the crowd explode for Yagyu.
The Black Lotus Triad take in the crowd until their opposition get up and are ready for a fight. All six are in the ring and each person has another from the other trio fighting them. Dezmond X flips out of a Brainbuster and hits a Pele Kick, but then is hit with a Package Piledriver by Oyuki! Oyuki is then hit with a ARKO from Fox! He goes for a Foxcatcher to Miho, who lands out and hits a double suplex with Yagyu. Miho is then taken out with a Pounce from The Mack, and then its him and Yagyu. The crowd get off their feet at this encounter, just like they did when Yagyu came face to face with The White Rabbit. Yagyu then hammers with elbow and elbow and elbow, taking The Mack to the mat as the believers unload every ounce of applause for her. She then gets up and lets out a primal scream, WHEN SHES HIT FROM OUTTA NOWHERE WITH A FINAL FLASH FROM DEZMOND X!! He then sees Oyuki on the apron and hits the X-19! Him and Mack double team with an Alley Oop + Kotaro Krusher combo!! 1…….2……3!!!! THE FINALS ARE CONFIRMED!!! They all celebrate together as they are destined for the finals. The girls walk off in defeat to a big ovation, and each of the victors bow for their good fight. The Reptile Tribe then come out, with Vipress leading the way. She declares that this occasion is suited for one match. The finals of a tournament based on teamwork, adaption, and violence. They will fight…IN A LLLLLLLLLAAAAAADDDDDDEEEEEERRRRR MAAAAAAAATTCHHHH!! The Gift of the Gods, Rush:
When we return from commercial break, we get a quick recap of Rush winning the Gift of the Gods Championship and some big moments from that match: Dark Magic diving off the office roof, the announce table spot, and rapid fire clips of each successful pinfall until the final one, and lastly Marty coming out. Rush walks out in a clean white suit and his famed bull mask, with the sleek title wrapped around his waist. He pulls off the mask to reveal his snarling face with a wide grin plastered across. He is handed a mic, but pulls his hand away and places it to his eye in a magnifying glass shape to look at the ceiling. He then snatches the microphone and shouts out that he is “EL........IDOLO!!!!!!” He cuts a quick promo in Spanish where he says “I have reached the top...and even though I did it in an ugly fashion...I still have been chosen by the gods to be the face of Lucha Underground!” He rises his arm to the rooftops when the camera then sees a man behind him...ITS OCTANE! Octane stands behind him on crutches with a microphone. “Hijo de Puta... (motherfucker)”. OCTANE KICKS HIM IN THE INGOBERNABLES! Octane tries to use one of the crutches to batter him more, but he can’t do it and has to regain his stance in the corner. Rush then gets up and sprints at him with a Dropkick! He does a “Con-crutch-to” where he smashes Octane in the head with one of his crutches while his head is lying on the other crutch. Rush then crouches down and holds the Gift of the Gods Championship above Octane’s prone body. Bandido (c) vs. Marty The Moth vs. The White Rabbit vs. ??? - Lucha Underground Championship
After The White Rabbit and Marty The Moth’s non-finish last week, The Lord would make a promise to the dissatisfied believers - next week they will both face off against Bandido in a Lucha Underground Championship match, in a Four-way. The fourth man will be revealed when the match happens. Bandido enters first despite being champion, The Lord subtly throwing shade his way. The White Rabbit and Marty are both The Order’s boys and so get all the pomp and ceremony for their entrances. The mystery man then walks through the curtain with a full black bodysuit concealing him. He power walks through the believers to the top of the stair way, where he tears away the bodysuit to reveal...DRAGO!!!! The dragon man receives a loud pop for his reveal out of shock. The Lord really booked one of the preliminary Aztec warriors to get a Lucha Underground Championship match, for no reason? Drago is here however, black tongue hanging from his mouth and blue scales covering his body. His pupils stare daggers through the hard camera as they do the other match participants. They all stare at each other as Shaul Guerrero runs down that it is a Lucha Underground Championship match. Marty can’t wait and goes on an early Superkick Party, throwing one at every enemy.
Bandido ducks his one and hits three Superkicks in a row. The first knocks him back, the second makes him fall into the ropes. The third then knocks him out the ring. He runs the ropes and goes to dive but The White Rabbit gets in his way. Bandido then jumps over him instead to Marty. He soaks in the crowd response and scales the ropes to jump back in. The White Rabbit catches him on the fall but drops him when Drago kicks him in the midsection. The White Rabbit then does a double clothesline! He poses in the middle of the ring with all the other competitors around him laid out. Drago rolls out and fights with Marty on the outside. Drago tries to throw him into the office wall, but Marty reverses and throws him in! Drago then lays out in front of the door. The Lord peeps through and smiles, before closing. Marty resumes his business where he stares at The White Rabbit. They tease a fight, but they instead double team Bandido. They beat down on him for a minute or so. The White Rabbit goes for a Superplex, but Bandido counters into a Blockbuster! Marty then is hit with a Dropkick after Bandido jumps off The White Rabbit’s back! He heads out to Drago and throws him into the door, knocking it open. They fight in there, meanwhile Marty sets up some tables on the outside.
Bandido throws Drago back out the office after they fight in there. Drago drags himself into the ring and takes a breather on the ropes. No time for that though as Bandido comes in with a 21-Plex! Marty rushes at him, POP-UP CUTTER! Finger gun...pow. All that’s left is The White Rabbit. He pushes a ladder into the ring and sets it up, beside the tables on the outside. Bandido bangs his head off the side of the steel. The White Rabbit makes Irish whips him and Bandido rebounds off the ropes, heading for him. He tries to throw him over his head through the ladder, sending him through the tables, but Bandido dropkicks him into the ladder! He falls back and rebounds, only to be hit with a Pumphandle Slam! Bandido can’t quite make the cover. The White Rabbit repositions the ladder and grabs the rungs to pull himself back up. Bandido then climbs up after him and they fight on the top. Marty runs in to try and push it down, but Bandido jumps off in the nick of time! THE WHITE RABBIT CRASHES THROUGH THE TABLES!!! Marty looks in shock at what he just did. He goes back out to check on him. Bandido then pulls Drago into the ring and hits a Front Flip DDT! 1..........2.......3!!!! BANDIDO RETAINS HIS LUCHA UNDERGROUND CHAMPIONSHIP!!! Afterwards Salina walks out to look on in disapproval. She shakes her head, but sees Marty and runs off. “The Moth” chases after her. Marty and Salina confrontation:
Everyone thinks the show has ended, but after the main event we see Marty Martinez and Salina de la Renta outside the temple. Marty is trying to get intimate but Salina refuses. Marty demands she oblige and reminds her of how powerful she is. He has the gauntlet of the gods so he can do whatever he wants. Salina then slaps him and runs off into the night.
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2020.10.02 23:01 OneWingedDevil28 Booking Jay White in NXT (Chapter Three: Everything To Lose)
NXT Takeover: WarGames – 20th November 2021
The cage descends upon the brace of rings, as ominous music and rising smoke sets the atmosphere, the fans wait in anticipation for the most gruelling stipulation in all of professional wrestling, a stipulation that has ruined bodies, ended careers, jeopardized peoples lives. WarGames is upon us, and it’s finally time to end the faction war that has been the main focus of NXT for the past half year.
SHOCK…. THE SYSTEM.
“They have titled themselves the ‘Masters of WarGames’. This team has a lot of experience in this stipulation, with participation in 2017, 2018, 2019 and this year, the Undisputed Era arrive with the sole purpose of proving that without Adam Cole, they can still run as a strong faction. Roderick Strong, the man who came within a heartbeat of the NXT Championship last Takeover, is the one to start the proceedings for The Undisputed Era.
Jay White’s screeching music plays off the speakers, as his team arrives. Himself, Killian Dain and Jordan Devlin, White elects Devlin to go and start for the team, White wants the easiest job, and Dain can be the difference-maker whenever they require him. The final team, British Strong Style, come out to a large pop, Pete Dunne is the one who goes down to the ring, Bate and Seven going into the cage.
With Roderick Strong, Jordan Devlin and Pete Dunne all confined, the bell rings, and WarGames has begun.
Booking Jay White in NXT (Chapter Three: Everything to Lose)
White’s tactics prove to be uneducated, as to start the match, Devlin is quickly outmatched by Strong and Dunne, they chuck him to the other side of the ring, acknowledging each other and circling the ring. Over 3 years in the making, Roderick Strong was the one to betray Dunne and join the Undisputed Era.
Dunne and Strong have a slow and more methodical exchange, Strong goes for an early End of Heartache, but Dunne holds onto the ropes, he goes out onto the bridge between the two rings, he hits Strong with a forearm, Devlin then comes back into the match, attacking Dunne from behind and lobbing him into the cage wall, as he begins to take momentum.
These three all have different tactics, with each man getting their first share of offence in the first stage of the match. In notable spots, Dunne goes to the top rope, with Devlin leaping from one top rope to the other, then giving Dunne a hurricanrana to the top rope, Dunne falls into a sit out powerbomb from Strong.
Strong gets both men into a Fireman’s Carry in an incredible feat of strength, with Dunne getting out of it, he gives Strong an enziguri, Dunne and Devlin have a brutal striking exchange, with Dunne getting the upper hand as he snaps the fingers of Devlin, following it up with a snap german suplex, a the first team comes into the match.
It’s the Switchblade Squad. White and Dain are unlocked out of the cage, they sprint down to the ring, and enter the fray, White making an immediate impact. Dain floors Dunne with a big boot, Strong lunges with a crossbody, Dain catches him and slams him into Dunne. With the Switchblade Squad in one ring, and Dunne and Strong on the other, the two come to the realization that they are going to have to team up, like they did in the Dusty Classic, to take down the Switchblade Squad.
And they do work efficiently, their two styles blending well. Devlin comes in with a springboard, Dunne floors him with a forearm and delivers a Bitter End, but straight afterwards, Strong kicks Dunne, and hits him with an End of Heartache, mirroring his betrayal of Dunne years ago. However, this is not a wise move, as Dain gets back up to his feet, and Strong has no one to help him out. Strong avoids every single pounce, every strike of Dain, he begins to climb up the cage in an attempt to escape Dain, who grabs him and gets him in a powerbomb position, White connects a diving crossbody from the top rope onto Strong who was in the powerbomb position.
Dunne is isolated as the Switchblade Squad all go towards him, Dunne telling them to ‘Bring it.’ White goes for a forearm, Dunne dodges. Devlin goes for a superkick, Dunne catches it and throws Devlin’s leg into White’s, Dain lunges for Dunne, with THE BRUISERWEIGHT CATCHING HIM, PUTTING HIM IN A FIREMAN’S CARRY, HE ORDERS STRONG TO THE TOP ROPE, HE DIVES AND HITS DAIN WITH A KNEE!
White comes back into the match, however, he goes for a Blade Runner on Strong, but Dunne hits White with a Reverse Rana! With everyone down, The Undisputed Era are next into the match, as now, Dunne is the only one on his own. Bobby Fish reaches for under the ring and pulls out a plethora of weapons. The match inside becomes a bloodbath, with it essentially becoming Undisputed Era vs Switchblade Squad with Dunne as the wildcard.
We see our obligatory Tower of Doom spot, actually performed by Dunne on the bottom. White was not involved, he pounces on the opportunity, driving Dunne into the ring post, he goes for a Uranage through the table, Dunne fights out of it, the two men end up fighting on the top rope, ending with Dunne hitting a powerbomb from the top rope on White through the table, putting him out of the match for a while.
The Undisputed Era begin to team up on Dunne, though, and a defenceless Bruiserweight still encourages them to come at him, but then British Strong Style are finally released from their cage, they sprint down to the ring, and with everybody up, it becomes a full on WAR, the entire crowd on their feet applauding just how chaotic this affair has been so far.
Here, we see all of the build up wind down until straight warfare between the three factions, months of built up anger against each other released. The Switchblade Squad use the weapons to their advantage, encouraging chaos and disobedience. The Undisputed Era are tactical, co-ordinated and the ones most familiar with the WarGames environment, and British Strong Style are the easy to get behind babyfaces, encouraging a fight.
Dain dives from the top of the cage into the crowd. Bate and Seven have an in-ring duel with O’Reilly and Fish. Jordan Devlin is taken out by the entire competition. Strong is taken out by a Blade Runner, he gets picked up and decked with a Bitter End onto exposed ring mat, and it’s just White and Dunne left. The two battered men go all out, White the fresher man, but Dunne the one with more fight.
With bodies laid out everywhere, it’s clear that this is the final battle that is going to be fought in this war. White goes for a Blade Runner onto the chair, but Dunne slips out of it and hits a reverse rana onto the chair. White hits Dunne with a Uranage, he looks to finish it but Dunne inspires himself to an incredible comeback, he decks White with a Better End from the top rope through the table, he lays his arm over White, 1…2..3!
British Strong Style def. Switchblade Squad vs Undisputed Era (56 minutes)
An absolute war that never let down in pace sees the willing trio of Pete Dunne, Tyler Bate and Trent Seven come away victorious in what will go down as the most chaotic WarGames match to date, it was a toss up towards the end, with the deciding factor being which team could endure the most, which team had the most heart.
Bate, Seven and Dunne all gather in the middle of the ring to celebrate the result, they can barely stand, remaining lying down and on their knees, the rest of the participants knocked out on the canvas, motionless. Dunne pinned White, making a huge statement, and while Undisputed Era and Switchblade Squad occupied themselves with each other for so long, this trio have came in and proved why they are the most dominant team in NXT.
British Strong Style walk away victorious at NXT Takeover: WarGames.
Coming away from a momentous win at NXT Takeover: WarGames, Pete Dunne is marvelling in momentum, following it up with a hard fought win over Killian Dain the next week on NXT, as he officially stakes his claim for Jay White’s NXT Championship, White insisting that Dunne will have to go through a gauntlet if he’s going to face the Switchblade for the title, despite how Dunne pinned White inside of WarGames.
Dunne does not reject or complain about the gauntlet. He doesn’t care what he has to do to get a shot at White, to get a shot at the top prize, because he knows that he won’t back down, he’s the toughest guy in the Locker Room. It is announced that on the first NXT of the new year, Dunne will go through the gauntlet arranged by White, and if he can win it, then he will challenge White for the NXT Championship at Takeover: Houston.
At the end of the month, Jordan Devlin loses the NXT North American Championship to Isaiah Scott in a thrilling Singles Match, as Devlin officially disbands from the Switchblade Squad, causing a domino effect of the faction to spiral out of control. Without their reputation, without stability, they are there without purpose.
The next to leave the faction is the Grizzled Young Veterans, leaving just White’s bodyguard, Killian Dain, as the Switchblade Squad has essentially sizzled out. White blames Dunne for this, he says that him winning at WarGames has sent the Switchblade Squad into a tailspin, and he’s not wrong. White is out to get revenge on Dunne, for the NXT Champion, it is now personal, so if he does get his hands on him, which he ‘won’t anyway because of the gauntlet’ he is going to ‘destroy him and send him back to the UK in a bodybag’.
The 5th January edition of NXT sees Pete Dunne go into the gauntlet, clear minded and determined to come out victorious and have the chance to challenge Jay White at the upcoming Takeover. The first man in the gauntlet is Cameron Grimes – the start of the match sees an even, methodical feeling out process devolve into a relatively one sided victory for Dunne, a confident start for the Bruiserweight, although Grimes did get his fair share of offence.
The next man in the gauntlet is Dexter Lumis, Lumis takes advantage of a slightly fatigued Dunne, who begins to struggle in the gauntlet conditions, the size advantage playing a large role in the match. Dunne is forced to be the David against Goliath, and he gets the backing of the crowd as he rolls up Lumis for the 123, confirming the victory, as he is now half way there.
The next man is the bodyguard himself, Killian Dain. Dunne points his attention to the stage, urging Dain down, Dunne may be battered, but he’s not going down without a fight. Instead, however, Dain blindsides Dunne, attacking him viciously from behind with a steel chair. Dain forces the ref to ring the bell, he goes for the cover after a vicious chair assault, but Dunne is somehow still able to kick out.
Dain dominates the entire duration of the bout, toying with Dunne, who’s gone from dominant to on the back foot to completely out of it. When Dain goes for the Coiste Bodhar, however, this is when Dunne wakes up, he won’t be put away, he fights out of it, headbutt, step up enziguri, he throws EVEYTHING at Dain in a sudden burst of energy, the crowd go onto their feet, supporting the Bruiserweight.
Dunne is eventually able to lock in a Sleeper Hold on Killain Dain, Dain collapses to the mat, Dunne putting every fibre of his body into the submission, and Dain eventually falls asleep, the ref calling for the bell, the crowd burst into cheers, as Dunne only has one opponent left, he is limping, he is barely able to stand, he’s leaning against the ropes, calling for his final opponent…
Jay White decides to take the matters into his own hands, he comes out, throwing away the NXT Championship and his T-Shirt, revealing his ring attire. Dunne is reluctant, as White marches down to the ring, despite a medical officer telling the ref Dunne isn’t fit to compete again, Dunne demands for the match to be continued, he did not go all of this way for nothing. The ref rings the bell, and White is straight to pounce on Dunne, killing the atmosphere.
However, Dunne fights back, he somehow looks better here than he did against Dain, perhaps because it’s the final hurdle, he is so close to the NXT Championship Takeover match, it is within his grasp. Jay hits a Kiwi Crusher, he goes for the cover, 1…2.. Dunne kicks out. White is disgraced, he is CONFUSED at how Dunne is able to stay in the match. White goes for a Blade Runner, Dunne slides out of it, he pushes White into the ref accidentally, White hits a Uranage.
Noticing the ref is down, White goes outside of the ring, picks up the NXT Championship and slides back inside the ring. With Dunne staggering to his feet, and the ref still on the ground, White goes to strike Dunne with the belt…
HE IS STOPPED BY KILLIAN DAIN! Dain stands in the way, White is shaking his head in disbelief, he’s shouting for Dain to leave, but Killian is staying put! He has just stopped Jay White from assaulting Pete Dunne with the NXT Championship! Cole pushes Dain away, but HE WALKS RIGHT INTO A BITTER END! DAIN WAKES UP THE REF, HE COUNTS, 1…2…3!
Pete Dunne wins the Gauntlet
Pete Dunne is going to Takeover! He has booked his ticket for Houston, and Jay White has a huge problem, his own bodyguard Killian Dain prevented White from winning using cheap tactics, and it ultimately has cost White, and Dunne has somehow survived the gauntlet! After the match, Dunne has an emotional celebration with the crowd, while White sits on the ramp with his head in his hands.
Dunne makes eye contact with Dain, who leaves through the crowd, Dunne giving a nod of approval, Dain turning away and losing. Jay White has lost his faction, he has lost this gauntlet, the only thing he has left, the thing he has prioritised over everything else, is the NXT Championship, and he has a hefty task ahead of him at the end of the month.
With Dunne vs White confirmed for Takeover: Houston, the two continue to build their story. Pete Dunne has been responsible for everything White has lost over the past few months, most notably the Switchblade Squad, and White has a vendetta for Dunne, a personal grudge he hasn’t held with anyone besides Kazuchika Okada in the past. As for Dunne, for him, this is about finally claiming the NXT Championship, ending this months long journey for the championship.
He has defied every expectation, ignored every odd, and focused on his own path, and now, he is going to have one shot at the NXT Championship at NXT Takeover: Houston. White and Dunne build their feud to a fever pitch, White, the mastermind of psychology, is able to get into the head of Dunne, a mind that normally isn’t affected or altered, it’s why Dunne is so hard to beat, but White may have all the tools he needs, as he is able to get into Pete’s head, a rare occurrence, and one Dunne does not know how to react to.
Dunne’s obsession with the NXT Championship drives him away from Tyler Bate and Trent Seven, as in a head-to-head interview one week before Takeover, Jay claims that him and Pete have something in common, in that they have lost everything in their path to claim the NXT Championship, and the stakes are high in the regard that one man will have lost everything… For nothing.
Dunne is hell bent on ending the Switchblade Era. He has destroyed the castle, now he needs to overthrow the one at the throne. Jay wants to prove to all that he doesn’t need a faction to succeed, and the likes of Dain, Devlin and the Grizzled Young Veterans were only dragging him down. Both of these men build to a fantastic conclusion to a storied feud, as Pete Dunne will challenge Jay White for the NXT Championship at NXT Takeover: Houston.
NXT Takeover: Houston – 29th January 2022
There is an aura in the air for this title defence of Jay White. He has got away with wins against the likes of Roderick Strong, Kushida, Finn Balor, Karrion Kross, but he cannot run or hide anymore, Pete Dunne has a grudge to settle with White, and this could be the biggest match of their career for both men. Throughout the show, we see both men training in their locker rooms, White gives an interview, claiming that he is living inside Dunne’s head, and it’s going to be his downfall tonight, Pete refuses to even be interviewed.
We eventually reach our main event, and the audience is hyped. The challenger, Pete Dunne, makes his entrance first, he stands on the stage, absorbing the Takeover atmosphere, the fans clearly on his side, as he marches down the ramp, motivating himself, speeding up with every stride, he is ready to get business done and get the demon that is Jay White out of his head. He waits in the ring, as the NXT Champion makes his entrance.
For many, it’s a weird sight to see Jay White without many of his stablemates by his side. It’s him and his NXT Champion, his menacing entrance is accompanied by a chorus of boos, and Jay is evidently confident in himself. He has not let recent results or events get to his head, he’s still the champion and he knows it. As soon as he gets in the ring, him and Dunne stare down, White holding the NXT Championship in front of him, “You want this huh?”
The ring introductions are made, as both men back into their respective corners, both men are ready to fight, as soon as the bell rings, that’s when the floodgates are going to be opened. The lights dim. The bell rings. This Takeover main event is underway!
Pete Dunne vs Jay White © for the NXT Championship
Dunne moves to the middle of the ring immediately, he begins to throw jabs and hooks, White dodging every one, before he throws Dunne into the corner, kicking him repeatedly, the ref breaks it up, White teases a cheap slap to Dunne, but he backs away, the challenger’s defence goes down, giving White a perfect opportunity to deliver another strike, irish whip is reversed as White goes into the adjacent corner, followed by a side headlock takedown, head scissor reversal, both men on their feet, Jay White armdrag, he works the arm of Dunne and takes the upper hand early.
Whatever Dunne tries to escape the grasp of White, it’s to no avail, as the NXT Champion is able to retain momentum. Dunne is able to fight to his feet, with the help of the crowd, White goes for a Blade Runner, Dunne gets out of it, he goes for a quick Bitter End, but White fights out of that as well with a hip toss, both men hold off and regain their breath, there’s a tense vibe in the ring, the win and the result can be decided at any moment, both men have to be at the top of their game the entire time.
Dunne requests for White to go off the ropes to begin a sequence, he does, Dunne goes into the sleep position, White holds onto the ropes and stomps on Dunne, who gets straight back up to his feet, he delivers a headbutt followed by a Saito Suplex, White falls into the corner, Dunne lunges for him, White moves out of the way, causing Dunne to go rebounding off the turnbuckle, White connects a Dragon Suplex, he connects the Kiwi Crusher early in the match, he goes for the pin, Dunne kicks out.
“That’s the thing about this guy, he never knows when to give up!” White shouts, as he re-applies the headlock, Dunne is able to transition into a hammerlock, White goes to elbow Dunne, who dodges, he pushes White away. White then requests for Dunne to rebound off the ropes, Dunne agrees, he begins to head in that direction, but White drags him back, slap to the back. He goes for a German Suplex, but DUNNE LANDS ON HIS FEET, KICK TO THE BACK OF WHITE’S HEAD!
Dunne gets White up, he gets him into the Fireman’s Carry, White hangs onto the ropes and goes out onto the apron, he gives Dunne a forearm, he tries to suplex him from the ring out onto he outside, but Dunne is able to gain balance, as both men find themselves on the apron, concluding in Dunne hitting a brutal Spike DDT on the apron on White, who falls to the outside, where Dunne then connects a Diving Double Stomp. Back inside the ring, Dunne goes for the cover, White able to kick out of 2 and WHITE GETS A CROSSFACE APPLIED ON DUNNE ALL OF A SUDDEN! That’s what Jay White does best, he is able to strike at the perfect moment, if your guard is down for one second, you’ll know about it.
Dunne is able to get to the ropes, as White lets go of him, but he gives his Switchblade taunt to the crowd, he thinks its time for the Blade Runner. He gets Dunne in position, but DUNNE FLIPS OVER WHITE, AND IS NOW IN POSITION FOR A POWERBOMB, HE CONNECTS A SIT OUT POWERBOMB! Dunne drags White, he goes to the top rope, Dunne seems to be going for a Moonsault, but WHITE GETS UP AND HOLDS ONTO THE LEG OF DUNNE!
White gets Dunne in a powerbomb position, he then transitions to a Fireman’s Carry, HE HITS HIM WITH A RUNNING DEATH VALLEY DRIVER INTO THE TURNBUCKLE! He gets Dunne up, he goes for the Uranage, but Dunne rolls through, “TAKE THIS!” he yells, as he catches White with a forearm, he then proceeds to break a finger of White!
Dunne gets White in position, he’s going for a Tombstone, but WHITE IS ABLE TO REVERSE IT, HE GETS DUNNE INTO POSITION, BLADE RUNNER! 1…2… DUNNE GETS HIS LEG ON THE BOTTOM ROPE! WHITE THINKS HE’S WON IT, BUT HE SLOWLY COMES TO THE REALIZATION! Infuriated, White drags Dunne into the middle of the ring and begins to deliver strike by strike, relentlessly going at the Bruiserweight, opening up a cut in him.
White wants to put Dunne away, he deadlifts him into position for a Blade Runner, but Dunne gets out of it, he connects a step-up enziguri, White comes back with a discus lariat attempt, but DUNNE CATCHES IT AND LOCKS IN THE KIMURA! WHITE SEEMS TO BE TAPPING UNTIL HE IS ABLE TO POWER TO HIS FEET AND SLAM DUNNE DOWN, BOTH MEN ARE DOWN, THIS NXT CHAMPIONSHIP MAIN EVENT IS LIVING UP TO THE HYPE!
Both men struggle to their feet and enter a striking exchange, with White taking the upper hand as he delivers numerous chops and jabs to Dunne, he takes him to the top turnbuckle, knowing that he’s going to have to go outside of the box to put away his challenger tonight. However, Dunne kicks White down, HE GOES FOR THE MOONSAULT, WHITE GETS HIS KNEES UP! WHITE GETS DUNNE UP, GOING FOR THE BLADE RUNNER, BUT DUNNE SLIPS OUT OF IT, BITTER END! 1…2… WHITE KICKS OUT, SO DUNNE GETS HIM UP IMMEDIATELY, HE CONNECTS THE BETTER END! THE PILEDRIVER VARIATION TO THE BITTER END! HE GOES FOR THE COVER, 1…2…3!
Pete Dunne def. Jay White © (29 minutes)
Pete Dunne has overcome his demons! He has finally won the big prize, he didn’t let the mind games of White get to him, he stayed focused, and when White kicked out of the Bitter End, Dunne took it up a notch, and finished him off with the Better End, and Pete Dunne is your new NXT Champion, the Bruiserweight is the one to end the tyrannical reign of the Switchblade.
Dunne leans up against the ropes, as he is handed the NXT Championship, a sight beautiful enough to power to his feet, he roars to the crowd and lifts the championship up, who respond with a celebratory reception, Pete Dunne has done it! An amazing match, where both men resorted to no dirty tactics, it was just solid in ring storytelling.
Dunne won the physical war, he won the psychological war. He goes up to the top rope to celebrate his victory, he gets down and sees Tyler Bate and Trent Seven in the ring, two men he drifted away from in his obsession with winning the NXT Championship. Without barely any hesitation, Dunne chooses to hug both men, apologising for his misalignment of priorities.
Bate and Seven leave Dunne to have his moment, as confetti begins to fall from the Toyota Center. Just this once, everybody can have a happy ending. White recovers on the outside of the ring, he limps to the back, selling his neck, devastated at the result tonight. He was outsmarted and outclassed by Pete Dunne, who closes out NXT Takeover: Houston as your new NXT Champion.
Jay White’s business in NXT would not be done there. Next, he would pursue a program with NXT legend Johnny Gargano, as White would encourage Gargano to delve more into his heelish side, as the fans would play an active role in trying to bring Gargano back to the light, leading to a complex story of morals and conflict.
This would result in a Takeover match, where while Jay White would win to regain his momentum, Gargano turns face again, reconnecting with the fans which would be his final outing in NXT. So while White won, he failed his mission to bring Johnny more over to the evil side. White would become a cornerstone figure in NXT, feuding with the up and comers and establishing himself as a anti-hero lone wolf.
Jay White would continue to have numerous Match of the Year contenders, and he’d keep elevating young talent and keeping up with large talent, proving why he is one of the best wrestlers in the world, wherever he goes.
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2020.09.24 21:12 StevenStevens43 Gododdin literature
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I will begin this article by first explaining why i refer to the Welsh triads, as Gododdin literature.
And the reason is, because the sub-roman welsh language actually takes root in the East coast of modern day Scotland. Approximate to todays Lothian region. Gododdin
The Gododdin (Welsh pronunciation: [ɡɔˈdɔðɪn]) were a P-Celtic-speaking Brittonic) people of north-eastern Britannia, the area known as the Hen Ogledd or Old North (modern south-east Scotland and north-east England), in the sub-Roman period. Descendants of the Votadini, they are best known as the subject of the 6th-century Welsh poem Y Gododdin, which memorialises the Battle of Catraeth and is attributed to Aneirin. Link for photo Gododdin territory Norse-Gaels:
Now the Gododdin were almost definitely Norse-Gaels, speaking a Norse form of Gaelic. Name
The meaning of Gall-Goídil is "foreigner Gaels" or "foreign Gaels" and although it can in theory mean any Gael of foreign origin, it always was used of Gaels (i.e. Gaelic-speakers) with some kind of Norse identity. This term is subject to a large range of variations depending on chronological and geographical differences in the Gaelic language, e.g. Gall Gaidel, Gall Gaidhel, Gall Gaidheal, Gall Gaedil, Gall Gaedhil, Gall Gaedhel, Gall Goidel, Gall Ghaedheil, etc. The modern term in Irish is Gall-Ghaeil or Gall-Ghaedheil, while the Scottish Gaelic is Gall-Ghàidheil. Link for photo Norse settlements Odin:
The Norse–Gaels often called themselves Ostmen or Austmen, meaning East-men
The name Gododdin, almost definitely derives from the Norse god, Odin. Odin
Odin (/ˈoʊdɪn/; from Old Norse: Óðinn, IPA: [ˈoːðinː]) is a widely revered god in Germanic mythology. Norse mythology Link for photo Odin English language:
Now this brings me to the supposed "legendary" founder of Gwynedd, "Cunedda", who was supposed to have been a leader of the Goddodin, and the leader of the group that spread Welsh Gaelic to Wales, as well as playing a role in forming the roots for the early English language. Kingdom
Cunedda, legendary founder of the Kingdom of Gwynedd in north Wales, is supposed to have been a Manaw Gododdin warlord who migrated southwest during the 5th century. Link for photo Map of place-names between the Firth of Forth and the River Tees: in green, names likely containing Brittonic elements; in red and orange, names likely containing the Old English elements -ham and -ingaham respectively. Brittonic names lie mostly to the north of the Lammermuir and Moorfoot Hills and may reflect the territory of the Gododdin. Cunedda:
And despite the claim in the above quote, Cunedda is not in the slightest bit "legendary". Cunedda
Cunedda ap Edern or Cunedda Wledig (fl. 5th century) was an important early Welsh leader, and the progenitor of the royal dynasty of Gwynedd. Myth:
The only debate to be had regarding Cunedda, is regarding his descendancy.
Some scholars consider him being of Norse Gaelic descent a myth, in favour of the more preposterous and highly unlikely claim, that a norse-gaelic speaking leader of a tribe known as "god" "oddin" and spreading a language which probably pre-dated "Roman" is somehow a Roman descendant.
This claim can only be explained by early political minded Romano Brits that wished to re-establish the Roman empire by claiming every man and his dog is a Roman heir. Background and life
 His genealogy is traced back to a grandfather named Padarn Beisrudd, which literally translates as Paternus of the "red tunic". One traditional interpretation identifies Padarn as a Roman (or Romano-British) official of reasonably high rank who had been placed in command of Votadini troops stationed in the Clackmannanshire region of Scotland in the 380s or earlier by the Emperor Magnus Maximus. Alternatively, he may have been a frontier chieftain who was granted Roman military rank, a practice attested elsewhere along the empire's borders at the time. In all likelihood, Padarn's command in Scotland was assumed after his death by his son, Edern (Latin: Æturnus), and then passed to Edern's son, Cunedda. Y Gododdin:
According to Old Welsh tradition contained in section 62 of the Historia Brittonum, Cunedda came from Manaw Gododdin, the modern Clackmannanshire region of Scotland:
Some of the finest Welsh literature ever wrote, was written by the Gododdin, which would include the Welsh triads. Cultural influence
There are a number of references to Y Gododdin in later Medieval Welsh poetry. The well-known 12th-century poem Hirlas Owain by Owain Cyfeiliog, in which Owain praises his own war-band, likens them to the heroes of the Gododdin and uses Y Gododdin as a model. A slightly later poet, Dafydd Benfras, in a eulogy addressed to Llywelyn the Great, wishes to be inspired "to sing as Aneirin sang / The day he sang the Gododdin". After this period this poetry seems to have been forgotten in Wales for centuries until Evan Evans (Ieuan Fardd) discovered the manuscript in the late 18th century. From the early 19th century onwards there are many allusions in Welsh poetry. Link for photo Y Gododdin Caswallawn:
Now this brings me to the historical Cassivellaunus.
However the historical Cassivellaunus is the exact same person as the legendary and mythological Caswallawn, mentioned in the Welsh triads.
Quite simply,Cassivellanus was his Roman name, given by Julius Caesar, but Caswallawn was his Celtic name, which is what Celts knew him as. Cassivellaunus
Cassivellaunus was a historical British tribal chief who led the defence against Julius Caesar's second expedition to Britain in 54 BC. He led an alliance of tribes against Roman forces, but eventually surrendered after his location was revealed to Julius Caesar by defeated Britons. Link for photo Caswallawn's city Trinovantum:
Cassivellaunus made an impact on the British consciousness. He appears in British legend as Cassibelanus, one of Geoffrey of Monmouth's kings of Britain, and in the Mabinogion, the Brut y Brenhinedd and the Welsh Triads as Caswallawn, son of Beli Mawr. His name in Common Brittonic, \Cassiuellaunos, comes from Proto-Celtic \kassi- "passion, love, hate" (alternately, "long hair", or "bronze") + *uelna-mon- "leader, sovereign".
Now according to Welsh triads Caswallawn awarded certain nobles with titles, including that of Trinovantum (London). Legend
Cassivellaunus appears in Geoffrey of Monmouth's 12th century work Historia Regum Britanniae (History of the Kings of Britain), usually spelled Cassibelanus or Cassibelaunus. The younger son of the former king Heli, he becomes king of Britain upon the death of his elder brother Lud, whose own sons Androgeus and Tenvantius are not yet of age. In recompense, Androgeus is made Duke of Kent and Trinovantum (London), See article here for Trinovantum Crocea Mors:
Now, according to Welsh tradition, Caesar during his first invasion had his sword taken off him, and was made to flee back to Gaul. Legend
Caesar invades at the Thames Estuary. During the fighting, Cassibelanus's brother Nennius encounters Caesar and sustains a severe head wound. Caesar's sword gets stuck in Nennius's shield, and when the two are separated in the mêlée, Nennius throws away his own sword and attacks the Romans with Caesar's, killing many, including the tribune Labienus. The Britons hold firm, and that night Caesar flees back to Gaul. Cassibelanus's celebrations are muted by Nennius's death from his head wound. He is buried with the sword he took from Caesar, which is named Crocea Mors (Yellow Death). First invasion:
Now Caesars accounts of his first invasion do indeed point to a failure.
Though, Caesar did claim a certain success from the first invasion, claiming to have subjugated certain parts of the Southern shores and made alliances with Southern kings.
He mentions nothing about having his sword taken off him, however. Success and motivation
If the invasion was intended as a full-scale campaign, invasion or occupation, it had failed, and if it is seen as a reconnaissance-in-force or a show of strength to deter further British aid to the Gauls, it had fallen short. Nonetheless, going to Britain beyond the "known world" carried such kudos for a Roman that the Senate decreed a supplicatio (thanksgiving) of twenty days when they received Caesar's report. It is also suggested that this invasion established alliances with British kings in the area which smoothed the later invasion of AD 43. Link for photo First landing Second landing:
Typical, to Caesars claim of having made alliances with kings on the Southern shores, his second invasion attempt one year later was met with no resistance at the landing place in Kent. Crossing and landing
Caesar landed at the place he had identified as the best landing-place the previous year. The Britons did not oppose the landing, apparently, as Caesar states, intimidated by the size of the fleet, but equally this may have been a strategic ploy to give them time to gather their forces, or may reflect their lack of concern. Link for photo Second landing Return to Gaul:
The triads claim during this campaign, Caesar was again quickly put to flight. Legend
Two years later, Caesar invades again with a larger force. Cassibelanus, forewarned, had planted stakes beneath the waterline of the Thames which gut Caesar's ships, drowning thousands of men. The Romans are once again quickly put to flight. Roman account:
Caesar got quite far in to British mainland before becoming opposed by Caswallawn, who was also at war with the Southern brits.
And though Caesar claims victory over Caswallawn, he did still decide to withdraw his troops from Britain, back to Gaul, for some unbeknown reason. March inland first paragraph
Caesar then returned to the Stour crossing and found the Britons had massed their forces there. Cassivellaunus, a warlord from north of the Thames, had previously been at war with most of the British tribes. He had recently overthrown the king of the powerful Trinovantes March inland fourth paragraph
Cassivellaunus sent word to his allies in Kent, Cingetorix), Carvilius, Taximagulus and Segovax, described as the "four kings of Cantium", to stage a diversionary attack on the Roman beach-head to draw Caesar off, but this attack failed, and Cassivellaunus sent ambassadors to negotiate a surrender. Caesar was eager to return to Gaul for the winter due to growing unrest there, and an agreement was mediated by Commius. Cassivellaunus gave hostages, agreed an annual tribute, and undertook not to make war against Mandubracius or the Trinovantes. Caesar wrote to Cicero on 26 September, confirming the result of the campaign, with hostages but no booty taken, and that his army was about to return to Gaul. He then left, leaving not a single Roman soldier in Britain to enforce his settlement. Whether the tribute was ever paid is unknown. Charriots:
Caesar was also very complimentary of Caswallawns use of Charriots, which is something the Welsh triads did not mention. Military
Caesar advanced to the Thames. The only fordable point was defended and fortified with sharp stakes, but the Romans managed to cross it. Cassivellaunus dismissed most of his army and resorted to guerilla tactics, relying on his knowledge of the territory and the speed of his chariots. Link for photo Charriot Meinlas:
Though, in actual fact, Caswallawns charriot likely was mentioned in Triad 38.
His horse was likely Meinlas, and his charriot, slender gray.
Unfortunately, likely mistaken as meaningless poetry. Welsh literature
Triad 38 names his horse as Meinlas ("Slender Gray") and calls him one of the Three Bestowed Horses of the Island of Britain; Third invasion attempt:
A sensational claim is made by the Triads.
The triads claim that Caesar actually made a 3rd invasion attempt, and when Caswallawn went to fight them, he was met with an Army of Southerners fighting as Roman allies, and Caswallan was made to surrender to them, and become a vassal to Caesar. Legend
Caesar invades a third time, landing at Richborough. As Cassibelaunus's army meets Caesar's, Androgeus attacks Cassibelaunus from the rear with five thousand men. His line broken, Cassibelanus retreats to a nearby hilltop. After two days siege, Androgeus appeals to Caesar to offer terms. Cassibelanus agrees to pay tribute of three thousand pounds of silver, and he and Caesar become friends. Commius:
But this claim is actually supported by Caesar himself.
When Caesar conquered Gaul, turned Commius in to a vassal and sent him to Britain to help gain allies, and Commius did indeed negotiate the surrender of Caswallawn, who would have been taken by surprise by this attack from his fellow brits. Ally to Caesar
When Julius Caesar conquered the Atrebates in Gaul in 57 BC, as recounted in his Commentarii de Bello Gallico, he appointed Commius as king of the tribe. Before Caesar's first expedition to Britain in 55 BC, Commius was sent as Caesar's envoy to persuade the Britons not to resist him, as Caesar believed he would have influence on the island. However he was arrested as soon as he arrived. When the Britons failed to prevent Caesar from landing, Commius was handed over as part of the negotiations. Commius was able to provide a small detachment of cavalry from his tribe to help Caesar defeat further British attacks. During Caesar's second expedition to Britain Commius negotiated the surrender of the British leader Cassivellaunus. Link for photo
_(cropped).jpg) Julius Caesar Mysterious ghost invasion:
Now, this third invasion attempt is in fact supported by a mysterious happening which baffles historians and scholars alike.
Caesar apparently chased Commius across the channel, and Commius became marooned on the british shores, like a lamb to the slaughter, but Caesar, instead of attacking, turned around and headed back to Gaul.
Obviously Caesar was simply coming to get Caswallawns surrender. Enemy of Caesar
A 1st century AD source, Sextus Julius Frontinus's Strategemata, tells how Commius fled to Britain with a group of followers with Caesar in pursuit. When he reached the English Channel the wind was in his favour but the tide was out, leaving the ships stranded on the flats. Commius ordered the sails raised anyway. Caesar, following from a distance, assumed they were afloat and called off the pursuit. Link for photo Commius's jewelry War with Ireland:
There is also a claim that Southern Britains during this period are also at war with Ireland. Welsh literature
Cassivellaunus appears as Caswallawn, son of Beli Mawr, in the Welsh Triads, the Mabinogion, and the Welsh versions of Geoffrey's Historia Regum Britanniae known as the Brut y Brenhinedd. In the Second Branch of the Mabinogi, he appears as a usurper, who seizes the throne of Britain while the rightful king, Bran the Blessed, is at war in Ireland. 1287 BC:
And even in Irish mythology, during this period, there is indeed a five year interregnum period where for the first time since 1287 BC, Ireland has no high king, for five years. Milesian Triad 35:
Triad 35 claims that Caswallawn fought Caesar in gaul. Welsh literature
Triad 35 indicates that Caswallawn left Britain with 21,000 men in pursuit of Caesar and never returned. Killed 6000 Romans in Gaul:
Also there was apparently a farther 6000 Romans killed in Gaul. Welsh literature
. A later collection of triads compiled by the 18th-century Welsh antiquarian Iolo Morganwg gives an expanded version of this tradition, including the details that Caswallawn had abducted Fflur from Caesar in Gaul, killing 6,000 Romans, and that Caesar invaded Britain in response. Gallic wars:
And in Julius Caesars history, he did indeed fight a war known as the Gallic wars, which Caesar did win, and the war resulted in 1 million deaths.
It was a "huge war".
It would have ended with Commius fleeing back to Britain, and with Caswallawns surrender. Conquest of Gaul
He proved an astute commander, defeating Caesar at the Battle of Gergovia, but Caesar's elaborate siege-works at the Battle of Alesia finally forced his surrender. Despite scattered outbreaks of warfare the following year, Gaul was effectively conquered. Plutarch claimed that during the Gallic Wars the army had fought against three million men (of whom one million died, and another million were enslaved), subjugated 300 tribes, and destroyed 800 cities. Link for photo Caswallawn's surrender Romantic:
Therefore, Rachel Bromwich's notion that the Welsh triads are romance, are inconsistent with the unromantic realities of war, and contemporary history. Welsh literature
Welsh scholar Rachel Bromwich suggests the fragmentary allusions to Caswallawn in the Triads relate to a narrative of the character that has been lost. This may have been in the form of a romance detailing the king's adventures, but would have been largely uninfluenced by the classical accounts.
2020.09.24 16:00 Angel466 [Bob the hobo] A Celestial Wars Spin-Off Part 0170
PART ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY
Robbie sat on the subway, staring blankly out the windows at the dark walls of the tunnels until light indicated another station was approaching. Having had his little talk
with Daniel, he asked if he could be driven back to Bellevue. He knew Daniel was watching him with weaver eyes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. He didn’t want to realm-step anywhere at that point. He wanted normal. He wanted … human. Pop, you utter stick,
he thought shaking his head. Six months. Six months his twice great grandfather and Aunt Collette had been surfing through his head, bringing him up to speed on everything that was shifting and bending, and it never once occurred to either of them to mention that little detail about him being an antichrist, even once?
Daniel had commandeered a black and white and had it drop him off at the hospital, but that was hours ago. He had poked his head in to check on Mason and found the day’s events had worn his friend out. That, or he’d been sedated. Either way, he was sleeping peacefully, and no one would ever know that a month ago he’d been pulverised into a pulp.
That in itself was going to be a problem. Angelo hadn’t really been given a choice about the beatdown Mason received, but it was clear from Mason’s interview that morning that he still completely blamed Angelo for it. That had been when Daniel went for snacks while Mason cried his heart out on his shoulder. Short of doing the unthinkable, they were probably never going to be roommates again.
“We’ll figure something out, buddy,” he promised, without actually touching Mason for fear he would wake him up. “Hang in there.”
But the hours he waited for news on Angelo was a killer. Security was at an all-time high now that an attempt had been made, and no one wanted to tell him anything. He tried to tell them that he was Angelo’s legal next of kin, but that didn’t help. Then he tried flirting. He made new friends and was given a few phone numbers discreetly, but no one was willing to breach protocol and tell him about Angelo. Not until he made a call to Daniel and was told to pass his phone to the nearest officer.
Then, and only then, had he been escorted into the intensive care unit where Angelo was hooked up to half a dozen machines. “They say it’s a miracle he’s still alive,” the female officer who’d walked him in whispered quietly at his side. “He’s defying all the odds. If you want my opinion, he’s had so much gear in his system, he’s immune to the rest of it.”
Robbie wasn’t sure if there was a deliberate barb in that or not, but after such a long day, he wasn’t about to let it slide. “You do realise he was chained in a room, drugged into addiction, then put to work on his knees to feed that addiction, right?”
The woman visibly blanched. “I didn’t realise it was forced.”
“And now that he’s going to testify against the very animals who did that to him, they want him dead before he can. So yeah, if he’s in there fighting to stay alive after all of that when every other lick would’ve given up and gone home, good for him.”
“I didn’t mean anything by what I said.” Sure you did.
“How long will he be asleep?”
“I can ask for you.”
“I’d appreciate that, beautiful. I promised him I’d be right behind him, so he’s going expect me to be here when he wakes up.”
She went back to the door and opened it, and while still keeping Robbie in her field of vision, she asked for the doctor to be brought in. They were only kept waiting a few minutes before a young, Hispanic doctor let himself in. He looked at both the uniformed officer and Robbie and grew annoyed. “I’ve already made my report,” he said, “And your patient is not the only patient I have in this hospital.”
“Please,” Robbie said, holding a hand up to try and circumvent the lecture, whether it was deserved or not. “I’m Angelo’s next of kin, and no one’s telling me anything. Is he going to be okay? How long will he be asleep? What’s happening with him? Will he…?”
“Alright! Alright,” the doctor said, raising both hands in a placating manner. “I didn’t realise you were Mr Trevino’s next of kin.” He went over to the clipboard at the end of the bed and flipped to the back page. “Richard, wasn’t it?” he asked, trying his best to make it appear a casual name drop.
“Robert,” Robbie corrected. “Robbie O’Hara. Come on, doc, he’s my best friend! How long’s he likely to be asleep? I want to be here when he wakes up, because he was really scared before he went under.”
The doctor sighed and lowered the board. “Right. Sorry. I had to be sure. The truth is, we don’t know exactly how long he’ll be asleep. My guess, maybe sometime tomorrow at least. Based on his bloodwork, he simply shouldn’t be alive. He’s got one hell of a guardian angel sitting on his shoulder, that’s for sure.” He looked between Angelo and Robbie and shook his head. “Either that, or he’s the luckiest man on the planet.” Column A … column B,
Robbie thought to himself, without meeting the doctor’s eyes. “Is there any way I can be called if it looks like he’s starting to come around? I mean, I can be here like really quickly if I drop everything and get here.”
The doctor looked Robbie over. “I can make a note at the bottom of his chart, but I can’t promise anyone will see it if he starts to revive. Even then, you have to be ready for the chance that … he won’t be the same.”
Robbie frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Mr Trevino has a lot of things working against him right now. Even if he does recover, there’s no guarantee to what mental capacity that recovery will be. As I said, by all accounts, he shouldn’t be alive now. He’s defying the odds just by breathing.”
“He’ll be back,” Robbie insisted, though in truth he wasn’t so sure anymore. What if that wasn’t the case? What if, in his own egotistical fashion, he had accidentally turned Angelo into the world’s first living zombie? Especially given what Daniel told him about things. His power didn’t lean towards ‘good’.
He felt the doctor’s hand on one elbow, while someone else took his other. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute, son,” he doctor suggested and he suddenly felt his backside being pushed into a chair. Not that he was fighting. The doctor knelt down in front of him. “He’s alive, Robert, and we…”
The doctor paused deliberately. “Robbie,
then. Take the win where it is. He’s still here. No one knows what the future holds for Mr Trevino. Especially not us. He might even wake up and be perfectly fine. No one knows. I just need you to be aware of the possibilities.” He looked up at the female officer who stood to Robbie’s side. “I have to get back to my rounds. Medically, as his next of kin, you can sit here as long as you like, but the police may prefer to keep the room clear.”
“We do need to go, Robbie,” the female officer said, confirming the doctor’s assessment.
After two deep breaths, Robbie regained his feet and went over to Angelo. “I’ll be back, buddy. Promise,” he said, squeezing Angelo’s foot ever so slightly.
It was with a heavy heart that he left the hospital, and half an hour later, the subway he was on pulled into Houston Street which was the stop ahead of the one that would take him home.
He exited the train and made his way up the stairs to King Street. People milled around him, but no one bothered him, which was probably a good thing. He was more focused on his jewellery than the road ahead anyway. He wanted the longer walk. He wanted to think. What he really wanted was to pretend the last six hours hadn’t happened. He had been so excited to learn of his heritage. Now, he was scared shitless of it. I’m a goddamn antichrist, kid. And so are you, cuz.
Which meant he wasn’t one of the good guys. He was … one of the others. Did it matter that he didn’t know?
It took about thirty yards of walking before he realised a familiar dark blue SUV that looked more black thanks to the night sky with matching dark windows was creeping along at his side, keeping pace with him. “Really, dude?” he asked, though it probably came out as more of a whine. He really didn’t want any more divine interventions.
The driver’s side window came down to reveal Angus behind the wheel. “Get in,” he said.
“Isn’t this where I shout, you’ll never take me alive
“We’re half a mile from the apartment. I will
crawl this car every inch of the way until you get in.”
Robbie stopped and huffed. He would too. “Fine,” he said, stepping out onto the road in front of the car as Angus reached across and opened the passenger door for him. “But only because I don’t want you to incur a million dollars’ worth of fines on my account.”
“It’s not like I’ll pay them.” As soon as Robbie was situated, Angus picked up speed. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“An antichrist and a true gryps war commander walked into a bar.”
Angus smirked. “At least you haven’t completely lost your sense of humour.”
“Did I just turn my best friend into a living zombie?”
Angus’ head whipped to him with such a look of surprise it was almost comical. “Okay,” he said, dropping the indicator to turn right instead of going straight ahead. “Change of plans.”
Robbie sat up, even more concerned when they turned right at Vadam and went back down Hudson in precisely the opposite direction to home. “No, I … I have to cook dinner…”
“Soho has plenty of food delivery services, and I’m sure everyone in the apartment knows how to use their phones to place an order when they’re hungry.”
A few minutes later, Angus pulled into the parking shoulder just south of Pier 45 and turned off the ignition. He undid his seatbelt and reached across Robbie to open the glove compartment where he pulled out a large, screw-top flask. “C’mon,” he said, thumping it against Robbie’s chest as he opened the door and stepped out.
Robbie was tempted to sit in the car with his arms folded in stubborn defiance, but so far Angus hadn’t led him astray. So far.
“What’s in there?” he asked, joining him around the front of the car.
“Your pop’s specialty.”
Robbie jerked to a halt. “You know we’re not allowed to drink alcohol in public in this city.”
Angus chuckled. “Don’t worry, lad. The police aren’t going to come anywhere near us tonight, and even if they did,” —he shook the flask— “their machines will never register this as alcoholic.”
“Because it’ll take one whiff of it and blow up?”
“Like a litmus paper test on a nuclear fuel rod.” He gestured to the walkway that led out to the pier. “Let’s go and find somewhere quiet.”
“Why do you have ambrosia in the car?”
Angus looked across at him and smirked. “You’ve met Llyr, haven’t you?”
They walked past the grass mounds and trees that had been planted for people to sit under and past the sunshade that now cast shadows due to the lit streetlight on either corner of the pier end. Angus put his foot on the bottom rail and twisted slightly with his forearm on the top rail to watch Robbie bringing up the rear. “So, what exactly did that idiot say to you that has you convinced you turned Angelo into a zombie?” He broke the seal of the flask and took a sip as if believing he was going to need it.
“I’m an antichrist.”
“What do you mean, ‘and’
man? I’m a fucking antichrist!”
“And what exactly do you think that means?” He took another sip.
When Robbie held out his hand for the flask, Angus ignored it. Robbie clenched his fist in frustration. “Seriously, dude? You’re not even gonna share?”
“When you stop thinking like a human with an overactive imagination and start looking at the situation objectively as a member of the divine, I’ll share my divine drink with you.”
“What does that even mean?”
“What do you think it means to be an
Robbie opened his mouth to ram down Angus' throat exactly what he thought being an antichrist was. But the words never left his mouth. All of his presumptions were based on human movies and bogeyman threats. They were all different, but they had one uniting aspect. “It means I’m evil.”
Angus made a noise that was uncannily like a computerised buzzer of negativity. “Try again.”
Not believing Angus was ever going to share his drink, Robbie turned to stare out at the clock tower over in New Jersey. A quick shift of his vision allowed him to see the clock face and he sucked in a sharp breath. It was after ten!
“Don’t worry about the time, Robbie. Just answer the question.”
Robbie shot a sideways daggered look at the man who relaxed more with every mouthful of ambrosia he swallowed.
“How am I supposed to look at this objectively when being human is all I know?”
Angus rolled to his side. “You have the blood of the most powerful families running in your veins, lad. It’s no different than if you had two different nationalities in your genetic makeup.”
“Oh, there kinda is,” Robbie growled in disagreement. “The difference between being English and Irish isn’t a matter of growing horns and setting buildings on fire versus putting someone on their knees with a look.”
“Now you’re getting it,” Angus grinned, kneecapping Robbie’s rant as he took a third sip. “Good and evil are relative before you get established. Sure, where you’re raised can influence it. But that’s the same with everyone. A demon born and raised in hell isn’t likely to bat an eye at someone being skinned alive. But you were born and raised here. You’ve been influenced by the world you
Another sip. “And if you think all angels are the epitome of goodness and happy-happy-joy-joy, I’ll be the first to bust your bubble on that score too.”
Angus flared his eyes and shook his head. “No. They’re a long way from perfect once you get them away from their establishment field. We’ve got a few stationed here, and some of them long for the glory days of battle and bloodshed. They’re not going to find it, of course, and they’re definitely not going to complain for fear of pissing off your uncle, but you’ve got a better chance of getting a demon to sing you a lullaby than one of them. Mainly because the demon would be too shit scared of you not to.”
“Because I’m evil.”
Robbie didn’t even see him move, but suddenly he was struck in the back of the head hard enough to drive his upper torso completely over the top rail. “OW!”
he shouted as he straightened back up again, rubbing the back of his head that he was sure was already starting to swell into a lump. “What the puck, man?”
“If you haven’t figured out by now the fundamental difference between being an
antichrist and THE
Antichrist, you deserve that all night long.”
Nobody had rung his bell that hard in … ever!
“So this is how this is going to go down? You’re going to bash me in the head every time you don’t like what I say?”
Yet another casual sip. Robbie was beginning to think there’d be none left for him to try at this rate. “You’re better than this, lad. You’re letting your human prejudice cloud your judgement. Being an
antichrist doesn’t mean shit except that you come from a certain line of people. What you do with it is up to you. Nothing’s changed. Daniel’s been one for almost eighty years, and he’s still the same NYPD butt-monkey asshole he’s always been.”
Robbie wondered why Angus had been so derogatorily specific in his name-calling when it was still just the two of them on the pier.
That was, until one of the pylons holding the sailcloth behind them broke away from the rest and slowly moulded into the missing detective. “You always were a prick,” Daniel growled, stalking forward to snatch the flask out of Angus’ angled hand. Two seconds later he was helping himself to a deep swig.
“You were following us?” Robbie was gobsmacked.
Daniel’s gaze met his with a look of duh.
“I had the officers let me know when you left the hospital. I started tailing you as soon as you walked out the front doors.”
“And how many faces did you become?”
“Actually, I thought the Alsatian that had to realm-step every half a block to keep up with us was hilarious.”
Daniel’s scowl darkened and he speared Angus with a lethal glare. “Fuck you, you eagle-eyed prick! If you knew I was there, you could’ve at least slowed down.”
Angus pressed his lips together wryly. “You needed the exercise.”
“Double fuck you, then.”
Annnnd … since everyone seemed to be in a better mood, Robbie held out his hand for the flask once more. “So, do I get a drink now?”
Angus sobered and looked at Daniel with a quick headshake, but Daniel’s expression grew mischievous and he passed Robbie the coveted flask. “Sure. I’m not on duty.”
Robbie held the flask in both hands and sniffed the contents. Ambrosia. Drink of the Gods. Pop’s secret recipe. It smelt just like ordinary wine.
Robbie couldn’t help but look at the two older men to see if this were a con; one of whom was grinning at him, while the other rolled his eyes.
antichrists and a true gryps war commander walked into a bar,” Robbie said as a toast …
..and downed his first swallow of ambrosia.
* * *
PART ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-ONE
Previous Part 169
((All comments welcome)) I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here For more of my work including previous parts or WPs: Angel466
or indexed here FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
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2020.09.20 00:55 JackassBarque Aine McCracken- Daughter of Fame
Basic Info Name:
Áine Caoimhe McCracken Nickname/Alias:
None Date of Birth:
14 December 2003 Hometown:
Cavan, County Cavan, Ireland Age:
Bisexual Godly Parent:
Fama, Goddess of Fame, Renown, Notability, and Rumors Mortal Parent:
Ciaran McCracken, TD Zodiac Sign:
Sagittarius Theme: Come Back Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff- Paddy Reilly
Appearance Eye color: Brown
Hairstyle: When out of armor, she usually wears her hair down, but during Legion business she keeps it tied in a bun under her helmet.
Weight: Ask again never.
Physique: Fairly tall, athletic.
Face Claim: Erin Moriarty
Combat and Godly Information Claimed: Yes
SPQR Tattoo: Four Lines
Weapon of Choice: Standard Legion equipment, as well as an Imperial gold falcata that shrinks into a ring she wears on her left thumb, which she received as a claiming gift
- Commanding Presence: As the daughter of the goddess of fame, people tend to listen when Aine speaks. This requires conscious effort on her part and can only effect up to five people at a time, and she must keep speaking in order for the effect to continue. Once she stops speaking, her hold over her audience is lost.
- Wings: Aine can generate magical, golden wings from her back for up to one hour every day, and can fly up to 20 mph (the speed of a reasonably experienced bicyclist) with a maximum height of 200 feet.
- Charmspeak: Aine has charmspeak, which is most effective when she uses it to spread rumors. When she does so, people are generally inclined to believe her, though the more outlandish the rumor, the less effective her powers are. Her charmspeak does still function in other situations, but it is weaker and people are more likely to resist its effects.
Additional Information Alignment: Lawful Neutral
- Slow to Trust
Backstory: Aine Caoimhe McCracken was born to an Irish politician named Ciaran McCracken, who met the goddess of fame after a hotly contested and widely publicized Dail by-election in 2003. She was raised in the town of Cavan, with frequent trips into Dublin to see her father, who did his best to balance his responsibilities as a legislator with his responsibility to his daughter. Aine grew into a driven, but emotionally distant girl, demanding as much of herself as she did everyone else around her. When she was thirteen, she was claimed by her mother and sent to the Wolf House, and from there she joined the Legion, where she has been for the past three years.
Now: Aine sat on the porch of the Second Cohort barracks, sharpening her falcata and humming softly to herself as she worked. Her eyes were focused on her sword, but she was listening to what was going on around her, so if anyone approached her, she’d likely hear them.
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2020.09.19 09:31 Ofladrit “Flash Girl” by Confused Ed (May 2000)
ANNOUNCER: “It‘s 3:30 Eastern Standard Time… and we all know what comes on then… THAT’S RIGHT… everyone’s favorite super heroine… FLASH GIRL.
Yes, friends, Flash Girl. At day, she poses as mild mannered Alice Krumbabble, a quiet Librarian. But when night falls, she dons her latex costume and uses her super ability to move 20 times faster than even the fastest mortal to battle crime and the forces of evil! Let’s watch to see what exciting adventures occur in this episode.”
SCENE: Flash Girl is poised on top of a rooftop looking down with binoculars.
Flash Girl is a knockout 25-year-old, at 5’4”, blue eyes, soft red hair down to her shoulders, 125 lbs., with size 36C cups that you can see clearly in her skintight red and black suit. Her legs are her most impressive feature, as they are long, firm, and covered by knee-high pointed-toe boots.
Flash Girl sighs… there has been NO action tonight at all. She had worked all day as Mrs. Krumbabble, and today was even quiet for a library.
Seems that kids don’t like to read anymore, such a shame. She mused how she passed the time by reading about 20 books today with her super speed, making sure no one noticed.
Suddenly… a crash comes from a nearby alley; Flash Girl jerks her head in that direction and takes off to leap to the other rooftop.
To a normal human watching her, we would have just seen her standing in one place for one second, then we would have, just for an instant, seen a red blur fly at mind boggling speeds, then we’d see Flash Girl standing more than 100 yards away! Flash Girl looks down that alley that noise came from, poised for action… she hears another crash and a baby’s cry!!!
Flash Girl doesn’t waste a second as she almost literally flies down a 20-story fire escape in literally only a few seconds. She comes to a screeching halt… and her heart jumps up in her throat as she sees a dog chewing on a dead baby!!!
She started to sprint forward to tackle the greyhound in one blink of an eye, but in another blink she stopped dead in her tracks… she looked at the dog... and saw it wasn’t a dead baby… it was a Betty Boopsie doll!
“I had one of these growing up,” Flash Girl thought, “But the company that made them went out of business years ago.” She laughed for a moment… the dog ignoring all of this still chewing away on its prize.
Flash Girl let out a sigh of relief and leaned against a nearby wall. I’ve GOT to calm down, she thought. How much easier my life would be if I didn’t have these powers... She grinned back to that day that she got the ability to move at break-neck speeds...
FLASHBACK: Flash Girl, 3 years ago, in one of New York University’s many science labs.
She had gone in to help her boyfriend Rick with the last bit of their science project: a serum that – when poured onto a plant – would make it grow much faster than normal.
So far, their research hadn’t been conclusive, but after some tests last week, they added another ingredient to the serum which, they believed, would make it work.
Flash Girl, Ms. Alice Krumbabble then, entered into that lab on that fateful day, and saw her boyfriend of 2 years frenching Lizzy Neroking!!!
Alice stared at them for a moment… and then flipped out… “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING???” Alice screamed with tears in her eyes. Rick almost crapped his pants when he saw his girlfriend standing there.
Rick, thinking he was a smooth operator, walked up to Alice, winking and opening his arms for a hug.
“Hey baby, this isn’t what it looks like… I was…”
Whatever Rick was going to say was lost, as Alice reared back and kicked forward, driving her platform sandals HARD into Rick’s balls.
Rick felt the kick, but for a moment there was only shock… then the pain set in… and BOY did it set in. Rick crumpled to the floor crying and clutching his jewels.
Alice wasn’t satisfied and pulled his hands off his nuts, an easy task since she had just kicked all the energy out of his body. She grabbed hold of her ex-boyfriends balls and started to squeeze, and tug, and yank, all to the incredible pain and horror of Rick, who could only scream high-pitched in agony. This went on for what seemed to Rick for hours, but to Alice, it was only 20 seconds.
As she was about to deliver a final squeeze, one that would destroy his manhood forever… she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck, and now she was on her back, bleeding… and wet.
She looked up, her vision blurry, and she saw Liz, terrified… and Alice realized… Alice has just broken the vial with their growth serum over her head…. She was now being covered with chemicals… Alice passed out… When she woke up, Rick and Liz weren’t there, and she never did see them again.
But the serum had changed her… she could now move faster than the human eye! Her first idea was to go around and kick every guy in the nuts on the campus… she could DO it now, she had the speed; they’d never see it coming… But… she didn’t like that idea… most of the boys here don’t deserve that… but… she now had SUPER POWERS!!!
She could become a superhero! Fight for truth and justice! And on that day… Alice became Flash Girl!
Flash Girl was brought back from her thinking when she looked down and saw that the greyhound was still chewing on the doll… but he had ripped it open… and something had caught her eye.
She walked over to the dog, which ran off in fear, leaving the doll behind. Flash Girl picked up the dirty old doll and looked at it… it was filled with MONEY!!! It was stuffed with 20 hundred-dollar bills… but on closer inspection… all these bills had the same number on them! These were COUNTERFEIT!!! Flash Girl thought it would be best if she sprinted over to the Daily Dolly Company, where this Betty Boopsie doll was made.
The company was miles away, but it only took Flash Girl a couple of minutes to travel that distant. She slowed down to a silent walk when the company was within sight.
The Business was on a desolate street, nothing but abandoned buildings here, so no one noticed that there’s an awful lot of activity going on in a business that’s meant to be closed.
She used her super speed to move unnoticed to one of the windows. She looked in and saw 4 armed thugs all stuffing Baby Boopsie dolls with the phony money. She knew now was the time to strike.
In a blur she sprinted back, then drove forward going through the glass window, rolling to break her fall, then stopped on her feet about 2 yards from the 4 bad guys.
“Hello guys, you’re a bit old to be playing with dolls, aren’t you?”
One of the thugs stammered and said, “It’s… it’s… it’s F-F-Flash Girl!!!” He clumsily tried to draw his gun.
“Awww, you’ve heard of me…” Flash Girl sprinted forward and unleashed a fierce kick right to the gonads of the thug.
She kicked him with such speed she was able to drop her foot and kick again, and again and again. She saw him move in slow motion, bringing his hands down to cover his jewels, but Flash Girl was so fast she was able to get in 11 kicks before he could cover himself.
All the other three guys saw was a blur that was Flash Girl’s boot for about four seconds, then they saw the thug crumple to the ground crying his eyes out…
“Oooo,” Flash Girl said, leaning down and looking into the fallen man’s teary eyes. “That looks like it HURTS! You MIGHT want to ice them down later.”
The other 3 thugs pulled out guns and started to fire. Flash Girl sprinted off to her left, the bullets not even coming close. Before the 3 guys could track her, Flash Girl sprinted back, and in a blur, she removed the guns from the 3 thugs hands.
“Listen… if you're still playing with dolls then you're DEFINITELY not old enough to be playing with guns,” Flash Girl said, showing that she had their weapons. She tossed them aside and smirked at them, “Now why don’t you just give up and surrender peacefully. You don’t want to end up like him, do ya?” She points to the floored thug oblivious to everything but the pain in his balls.
“Argh,” The smallest of the 3 thugs screamed in disgust and a thick Spanish accent, “You ain’t no threat to me, mamasita. Heee-ya!”
The littlest of the thug ran forward and performed a perfect roundhouse kick… but Flash girl easily ducked under it. The little man then drove his fist to where he thought her face was, a kick to where he thought her side was, and then a double-foot drop kick. Of course, Flash Girl in a blur dodged each of those attacks, and the final drop kick ended with the little thug on his back.
“Do you give up yet?” Flash Girl asked coyly. The little man flipped out, jumped up, ran forward, and in a blur screamed bloody murder.
The other 2 thugs couldn’t understand why till they realized that in super speed, Flash Girl had grabbed the little thug by his jewels and she was rapidly squeezing, releasing, squeezing, releasing.
The little thug doubled over coughing, moaning, and crying as Flash Girl leaned down keeping a tight squeeze on the thug’s “prizes” and said, “Are we done fighting?” She gave his balls a SHARP squeeze upward, and the little man, screaming in agony, managed to spit out, “Sí, Sí, SÍ SÍ SÍ!!!”
“Good!” Flash Girl smiled and tugged down on the little thug’s balls, bringing him to his knees, and she let go…
Just like the first thug, he too laid there bawling over his bruised jewels.
The other 2 thugs looked at her. She put her hands on her hip, “NOW will you give up? Or do you want to risk never having another ejaculation?”
The biggest of the thugs had enough; he picked up a fallen piece of lumber and wheeled it like a bat. He ran forward swinging at Flash Girls head. She dodged so quickly she was now behind him. The big thug, bewildered, turned around and saw Flash Girl, who then winked at him.
“GRRRRR!” The large man growled and swung again, to the same effect – Flash Girl was behind him again.
“Strike two, aren’t you seeing a pattern?”
The massive thug swung the lumber again, Flash Girl again sprinted behind him, but this time reached between his legs, grabbed the wood by the far end, and brought it behind her so the wood shot up and slammed the man in his nuts.
The man screamed in pain but didn’t fall.
He limped around to face Flash Girl who said, “A shot like that to your little jewelsies and you're not down… tough man, huh?” The thug swung a fist at Flash Girl, who ducked under it, pulled down the man’s pants and started to use his nutsack as a punching bag. She delivered a good solid 12 super-fast punches before the man even realized what was going on.
Flash Girl stopped, looked at the sheer agony in the man’s face, held him by his cheek for a second and whispered, “I’d say your balls just struck out.” The man collapsed clutching his swollen bruised jewels, trying not to vomit.
Flash Girl said, “You know, you three will make great additions to Sing Sing’s opera club. They’ve been looking for sopranos, you know.”
She cast a glance at the fourth thug who held his knife in his hands, but looked scared.
“Do you want to join them in the ‘balls in their throat’ club?” Flash Girl asked.
The man looked at his fallen comrades, and quickly threw his knife to the ground, putting his hands over his head.
“You know, you should never lift your hands to a girl... it leaves your jewels exposed,” Flash Girl mused to the thug as she gave him a light back hand, not enough to hurt him a lot, but enough to make him double over and remove any thoughts of fighting.
Using her super speed, she took a piece of rope that sat on a scaffolding, and she tied up the four thugs in less than a minute. She had some compassion though; she tied them so they could still hold their jewels.
“See,” she said smirking, “I’m not ALL bad.”
Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a large muscular man in a black leather trenchcoat. You’d immediately notice something about him: he had a metallic claw instead of a right hand, which was how he got his underworld nickname “STEEL CLAW!” Flash Girl almost growled when she saw him.
“FLASH GIRL!” Steel Claw growled back, “How did you find out about this place?”
“A little doggie told me,” she smirked. She raced into the man, punching at his chest, but because his claw was robotic, it possessed faster than normal speed too. It grabbed Flash Girl around the throat and lifted her off her feet.
Steel Claw laughed maniacally, “You underestimated me Flash Girl… and for that you will suffer.” Flash Girl tried not to panic as she held onto Steel Claw’s arm so she wouldn’t choke to death. She accurately aimed a perfect kick right to the man’s genitals… SMACK!!!
And… nothing… except a sharp pain in her left foot. It felt like she had just kicked a brick wall!
Steel Claw laughed, “You think I’ve learned NOTHING from our encounters? I have on a platinum cup. Even your super speed kicks wouldn’t penetrate it!” The man choked her a bit harder, laughing maniacally.
Flash Girl took this opportunity to bring her two legs together quickly and hard under the man’s armpits smashing his ribs… the shock of this caused Steel Claw to release his metallic grip on our heroine. Flash Girl rolled back, and smiled a wicked grin... this could work….
She sped forward running circles around the man. All Steel Claw could see was a red blur striking at him with what felt like was pokes. With a mighty shot Steel Claw slammed his metallic hand into Flash Girl’s ribs driving her back.
Pain engulfed her side, but she smiled because her plan worked.
“NOW I WILL DESTROY YOU, ONCE AND FOR ALL!!!” Steel Claw exclaimed.
Flash Girl smiled and said, “I don’t think so… aren’t you missing something?”
Steel Claw looked confused then was horrified when Flash Girl tossed something to him. He caught it, still horrified, because he immediately recognized it was his platinum cup!!! She must have used her super speed to pull it out of his pants!!!
In less than a blink of an eye, Flash Girl ran 10 yards and slung her foot up like a soccer player running for a penalty kick. Steel Claw knew where her foot was going, but was much too slow to stop it.
Flash Girl saw all this in slow motion, her boot-clad foot driving up and driving deep between her enemy’s legs, she could have sworn the tip of her boot disappeared as she drove it into the balls of Steel Claw.
She could feel his two jewels squish under her boot, his balls nearly crushing between her foot and his pelvis. She moved her foot back and watched the large man clutch his balls and fall to his knees whimpering like a baby. He fell to his side, gasping for air, tears rolling down his eyes, as he grasped his balls with both hands.
“I’d be careful with that steel claw of yours, buddy, wouldn’t want to cut them off, would ya?” Flash Girl said smiling.
She looked around for a phone and called Commissioner Gordy, telling him that she had Steel Claw and his thugs all tied up. Commissioner Gordy told her that they’d been looking for the group that was spending that phony dough, and how they were getting it around. Who would have suspected it was being shipped in dolls?
Flash Girl looked at Steel Claw, realizing that if she just tied him up, he could cut the rope with that claw of his; she needed a better way to keep him indisposed, and she thought she knew the way.
“Believe me Steel Claw, this is going to hurt you WAY more than it hurts me!” she giggled as she picked up some rope…
When the cops arrived, they were shocked to see all the thugs tied up, and Steel Claw hanging upside-down, by his BALLS!!!
Dangling from a rope, in more agony than you could imagine, Steel Claw was blubbering to the cops how he was in charge of this operation and how he should be put in jail with a large bucket of ice. Attached to his jacket was a Red Card that had the letters, “FG” on it, Flash Girl’s calling card.
In an Irish accent, one cop said, “Ah, thanks begorrah, she saved our fair city again, we are truly in her debt.”
ANNOUNCER: “Yes Officer Jim, we are ALL in her debt, a debt we can never fully pay off. So if any of you villains out their plan to make trouble in Flash Girl’s town, you’d better pick up some ice packs while you are out, for Flash Girl will hunt you down and when she does, it will not be a day to rejoice that you’re a man, for you will be a man with a bruised ego, and worse yet, bruised eggs!
So tune in next time, same kicking time, same kicking station.”
Credits Roll in front of a picture of Flash Girl with her knee driving into a man’s nuts.
STORY WRITTEN BY: Confused Ed
”Flash Girl” CREATED BY: Confused Ed
STORY DEDICATED TO: The good guys and gals of Yoda’s ballbusting forum.
EDITED BY: Ofladrit
MUSICAL SCORE: What music?
Copyright date: 5/26/2000
submitted by Ofladrit
to BallbustingStories [link] [comments]
2020.09.16 05:20 StevenStevens43 Evidence of pre-roman invasion of Loegria
| || |Loegria: submitted by StevenStevens43 to AhrensburgCulture [link] [comments]
As has already been established in previous articles, Loegria pertains to the Southern land of britain, below the river Humber, and the natural border between Southern Britain, and Northern britain, divided by rivers and streams which connect the Irish sea, to the North sea.
This was the natural border of Britain, before invasions.
And if you go to google maps, you will find out yourself that it is "true" that there is indeed a slight divide between the two municipalities, in the form of rivers, and even narrow streams. Albanactus
Albanactus, according to Geoffrey of Monmouth, was the founding king of Albania or Albany. He is in effect Geoffrey's eponym for Scotland. His territory was that north of the River Humber. Invasions:
Now we know there has been many invasions of Britain.
1st, the Roman invasion, which resulted in Hadrians wall and Antonine wall.
2nd, Anglos-saxon invasion.
3rd, Viking invasion.
4th, Norman invasion.
However, i don't think the Roman invasion was actually the first invasion.
I think there is evidence, even in legends, of a noticable and serious invasion of Southern lands in Britain.
I will now proceed to attempt to highlight why, i think this is at least, a possibility. Bladud:
Now, quite simply, to see for yourself, just how inconsistant the biography of Bladud is, with the life and times of all the other legendary kings of Britain, and the fascinating fair comparison to known contemporary history, simply read some of the other articles on my page, and then read this one.
Now, i am going to add my own description in my own words.
"Bladud is a legendary king of the Britons that does not know what century it is". Bladud
Bladud or Blaiddyd[a] is a legendary king of the Britons), although there is no historical evidence for his existence. He is first mentioned in Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regum Britanniae (c. 1136), which describes him as the son of King Rud Hud Hudibras, and the tenth ruler in line from the first king, Brutus, saying Bladud was contemporaneous with the biblical prophet Elijah (9th century BC). Link for photo Bladud School of liberal arts in Athens:
Now, this might not look too unbelievable at first.
My previous articles do point to "huge" Aryan influence in the Greek world.
However, it is just that, it is totally out of the blue in comparison to all the other legendary kings of Britain and Ireland.
He is "the first" to ever be sent over to Athens for schooling.
But ok, maybe that is believable.
After-all, the world is evolving. Legend
Bladud was sent by his father to be educated in the liberal arts in Athens. After his father's death, Link for photo
.jpg) Athens Stamford university:
Apparently, after his fathers death he returned from schooling in Athens, and founded Stamford university in Lincolnshire.
Sorry, but there is absolutely nothing to suggest that Stamford university was founded in Lincolnshire.
This must be the most outlandish claim ever made, in either contemporary history, mythology, or legends.
And, it might be a little bit more believable, if it were consistant with all the other legends, and their accuracy.
Even the most outlandish legend, at first glance, can have somekind of Euhemeric value, if you are able to find the missing pieces.
And i do see euhemeric value in this story, actually, i see it as a sign Loegria was invaded. Legend
After his father's death, he returned with four philosophers, and founded a university at Stamford in Lincolnshire Link for photo Stamford university University:
Now, "i will" defend the blooded Bladud here.
A university meaning of a community of teachers and scholars is only the modern definition. University
The word university is derived from the Latin universitas magistrorum et scholarium, which roughly means "community of teachers and scholars". Link for photo Oxford A group:
However the ancient terminology of university, could be defined as not much more than the formation of anykind of group, containing a few individuals.
Not necessarily even exclusively an educational group. Definition
The original Latin word universitas refers in general to "a number of persons associated into one body, a society, company, community, guild, corporation, etc". St Augustine:
Now, apparently this university flourished until it was suppressed by Saint Augustine of Canterbury. Legend
he returned with four philosophers, and founded a university at Stamford in Lincolnshire, which flourished until it was suppressed by Saint Augustine of Canterbury on account of heresies which were taught there. Link for photo Saint Augustines expansion Died 604 AD:
What kind of gibberish is this? Saint Augustine of Canterbury is from 600's AD!
Is this pseudo history of Britain from foreign invaders speaking pigeon Gaelic? Even if this "is" pseudo-history, it is "very very poor", Pseudo-history? Augustine of Canterbury
Augustine of Canterbury (born first third of the 6th century – died probably 26 May 604) was a Benedictine monk who became the first Archbishop of Canterbury in the year 597. He is considered the "Apostle to the English" and a founder of the English Church. Link for photo Augustines grave Papyrus:
Now, i am looking for elements of truth to take from this riddle.
I am beginning to suspect that persons pushing the Papyrus on British shores, may have pre-dated Julius Caesar. History
Papyrus was first manufactured in Egypt as far back as the fourth millennium BCE. The earliest archaeological evidence of papyrus was excavated in 2012 and 2013 at Wadi al-Jarf, an ancient Egyptian harbor located on the Red Sea coast. These documents, the Diary of Merer, date from c. 2560–2550 BCE (end of the reign of Khufu). The papyrus rolls describe the last years of building the Great Pyramid of Giza. In the first centuries BCE and CE, papyrus scrolls) gained a rival as a writing surface in the form of parchment, which was prepared from animal skins. Sheets of parchment were folded to form quires from which book-form codices were fashioned. Early Christian writers soon adopted the codex form, and in the Græco-Roman world, it became common to cut sheets from papyrus rolls to form codices. Link for photo Papyrus scholar 863 BC or 500 BC:
Now, it just gets worse.
This is simply an incoherent ramble.
863 BC, or, 500 BC? Legend
Supposedly he ruled for twenty years from 863 BC or perhaps 500 BC Hot springs out of magic:
No, sorry, until now the legends have been extremely intelligent, and reliable, and the sudden belief in "magic", combined with the psuedo intellectual claims mixed with the inability to even get the date correct within a 363 year gap, is inconsistant, and out of place, with the nature of the other legends. Legend
in which time he built Kaerbadum or Caervaddon (Bath), creating the hot springs) there by the use of magic. Link for photo Bath coat of Arms Caervaddon:
Now, there is "an interesting" claim here.
A little more consistant with legends up until now.
Apparently Bladud founded Caervaddon (Bath). Legend
in which time he built Kaerbadum or Caervaddon (Bath), creating the hot springs) there by the use of magic. Link for photo Map of Bath Very believable:
Now, the fact he founded a settlement here is "extremely" believable.
There has been activity in the location since the Mesolithic period, all the way through the Bronze age, in to the Iron age, and the Beaker culture even pre-dates the period of Bladud. Iron age and Roman
The hills in the locality such as Bathampton Down saw human activity from the Mesolithic period. Several Bronze Age round barrows were opened by John Skinner) in the 18th century. Solsbury Hill overlooking the current city was an Iron Age hill fort and the adjacent Bathampton Camp may also have been one. A long barrow site believed to be from the Beaker people was flattened to make way for RAF Charmy Down. Link for photo Minerva He what????:
Archaeological evidence shows that the site of the Roman baths') main spring may have been treated as a shrine by the Britons, and was dedicated to the goddess Sulis, whom the Romans identified with Minerva;
He dedicated the city to the Goddess Athena or Minerva!
What language is he speaking? Minerva is a Greco-Roman God.
No other king in Ireland nor Britain, during this period, is pretending to be a scholarly papyrus, whilst enchanting incoherent rambles, in goodness knows what language.
And what is with all this sudden poetic nonsense? "whose flames turned to balls of stone as they grew low, with new ones springing up in their stead:". Legend
He dedicated the city to the goddess Athena or Minerva, and in honour of her, lit undying fires, whose flames turned to balls of stone as they grew low, with new ones springing up in their stead: an embellishment of an account from the fourth-century writer Solinus of the use of local coal on the altars of her temple. He flew off the temple of Apollo in London: What????:
Necromancy? divination? temple of Apollo in London?
Pushed off a caer castle maybe!! Divination, wings and death
The tale claims that he also encouraged the practice of necromancy, or divination through the spirits of the dead. Through this practice, he is said to have constructed wings for himself and to have tried to fly to (or from) the temple of Apollo in Trinovantum (London) or Troja Nova (New Troy), but to have been killed when he hit a wall, or to have fallen and been dashed to pieces or broken his neck. He was supposedly buried at New Troy and succeeded by his son, Leir. Link for photo The temple of.... \"Apollo\" Latin league overthrow:
Now, i cannot go in to too much detail unfortunately, as i have already covered this in previous articles, and i am now running out of space.
But basically, the Latin league have just been overthrown by Messenian Romans. Roman leadership of the league
During the reign of Tarquinius Superbus, the Latins were persuaded to acknowledge the leadership of Rome. The treaty with Rome was renewed, and it was agreed that the troops of the Latins would attend on an appointed day to form a united military force with the troops of Rome. That was done, and Tarquin formed combined units of Roman and Latin troops. France:
Messian Romans have also invaded France, from the Medes. Greek colonies
In 600 BC, Ionian Greeks from Phocaea founded the colony of Massalia (present-day Marseille) on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, making it the oldest city of France. At the same time, some Celtic tribes penetrated the eastern parts (Germania superior) of the current territory of France, but this occupation spread in the rest of France only between the 5th and 3rd century BC. Spain:
During the exact same period, Celts are being pushed out of Iberia/Spain by Greco-Romans. History of Iberian peninsula
The Greeks are responsible for the name Iberia, apparently after the river Iber (Ebro). In the 6th century BC, the Carthaginians arrived in Iberia, struggling first with the Greeks, and shortly after, with the newly arriving Romans for control of the Western Mediterranean. Their most important colony was Carthago Nova (Latin name of modern-day Cartagena). War:
Now, i am not saying that the Romans actually conquered Britain as early as 600 BC.
But the war has definitely began, and the effects of this are quite evident even in Loegrian legends were their kings are suddenly speaking Greco-Roman, worshipping Roman gods, getting schooled in enemy territory, flying off temples, worshipping foreign gods, getting made a fool of, and they "suddenly" do not even know their own coherent pseudo history, and the image of Indigenous Loegrians flying off Temples appears quite comical to them,, whilst all the other Celtic legends still attribute their kings to be fighting over territory, building castles, and settlements beginning with Caer, et cetera. Saxons:
Now, here is where it gets "worse".
Do you remember other articles when i cover the period when the Saxons were kicked out of Southern scandinavia in to German territory, and Greenshield had to go over and help fight them?
Well, during the sack of Rome in in 387 BC, when Brennius, the King of Albany, allied with Gauls and Scandinavians, pushed the Romans out of Gaul, found themselves up against a "surprise foe".
The saxons have only went and allied themselves with the Romans!
And they attacked Brenniuses army! Conqueror of Rome
Following their unification, Belinus and Brennius merged their armies into one great one and invaded Gaul. After a year of warfare, the joint army managed to subject all the Frankish kingdoms in Gaul to their authority. Now with an even greater army, Belinus lead his great army to Italy and threatened to invade Rome. Outside Rome, the two consuls, Gabias and Porsenna, sued for peace and offered wealth, tribute, and hostages as a sign of their submission. Belinus and Brennius accepted and took their great army to Germany. Soon after this movement north, Rome broke the treaty and marched north, and Brennius went to fight the Romans while Belinus remained at war with the Germans (who were being helped by various other Italian troops). Temple of concord:
And it would have been the temple of concord, according to more reliable legendary accounts.
But even the Temple of Concord is Roman. Legend
He reigned in peace and prosperity for forty years then died and was buried in the Temple of Concord, a tribute to his laws, which resided in Trinovantum. His death sparked another civil war between his two sons, Belinus and Brennius.
2020.09.10 06:09 StevenStevens43 Old MacDonald
| || |House of Woden: submitted by StevenStevens43 to AhrensburgCulture [link] [comments]
Now in this article, there is going to be a sensational claim made, and the claim will likely not make sense if one reads this article, without before reading the information required to understand it, first.
Therefore one should click on the below link, and read that article first, then come back and read this one. House of Woden Oengus Olmucaid 1050-1032 BC:
Now i want to begin with something slightly irrelevant and trivial.
I don't know why, but there is just something about the name Oengus Olmucaid that makes me want to start singing "Old Macdonald had a farm".
Therefore, i have named this article, Old MacDonald, even if there is no connection between Old MacDonald, and Oengus Olmucaid. Old MacDonald
Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O!And on his farm he had a cow, E-I-E-I-O!With a moo-moo here and a moo-moo there,Here a moo, there a moo,Everywhere a moo-moo,Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O! Link for photo Old MacDonald Oengus conquered Scotland:
Now, i am not sure from the quote below, what is more unbelievable.
The fact Oengus Olmucaid conquered Scotland?
Or the fact he even defeated the Lombardi? Oengus Olmucaid
Óengus Olmucaid (or Aengus Olmucada), son of Fíachu Labrainne, was, according to medieval Irish legend and historical tradition, a High King of Ireland. During the reign of his father, he conquered Scotland. He came to power by killing the incumbent High King, Eochu Mumu, who had killed his father twenty-one years earlier. He fought many battles against the Cruithne), the Fir Bolg, the Fomorians and other peoples of Ireland, the people of the Orkney islands, and even the Longobardi. He was killed by Enna Airgdech, son of Eochu Mumu, in the battle of Carman, continuing the feud between the descendants of Erimon and Éber Finn. Geoffrey Keating, who interprets his epithet as meaning "great hogs", dates his reign to 1050–1032 BC, Dan I:
Now, in actual fact, nothing written above is unbelievable in the slightest.
It is likely that Dan I was the son of a fallen Hyksos pharoah.
Or, at the very least, related to noble Hyksos families that found themselves at war with native Egyptians. Dan I
Dan I was the progenitor of the Danish royal house according to Saxo Grammaticus's Gesta Danorum. He supposedly held the lordship of Denmark along with his brother Angul), the father of the Angles in Angeln, which later formed the Anglo-Saxons in England. Link for photo Dan I Angel:
Now Dan I had a brother named Angul. Dan I
Now Dan and Angul, with whom the stock of the Danes begins, were begotten of Humble, Langobards:
It also just so happens that his likely euhemerised persona "Odin", was king of the Langobards, amongst others. Odin
In Old English texts, Odin holds a particular place as a euhemerized ancestral figure among royalty, and he is frequently referred to as a founding figure among various other Germanic peoples, such as the Langobards. Link for photo
.jpg) Odin Dan II:
Now, there was also a Dan II. Dan II
Dan II is one of the legendary Danish kings, the son of Offa of Angel, Offa of Angel:
Now Dan II, was son of Offa of Angel, and he led an expansion of Scandinavian territory, pushing it out to the Schleswig border between Denmark and Germania, by defeating the Saxons, and pushing them in to Saxony, from Denmark. Offa of Angel
According to Widsith and the Danish sources, Offa successfully conquered the Myrgings, possibly a clan of Saxon origin, and incorporated their land into Angel or Danish lands, by slaying two Myrging princes in single combat and installing himself as their king. Link for photo Offa's victory Saxon invasion:
Now the war originally began when the Saxons rose up against Offa, and began invading Offa II's territory.
However Offa retaliated, and ended up pushing the Saxons out of Scandinavia, to the otherside of the Schleswig border. Myrgings
The Myrgings were a clan and people of Saxon origin who, together with their king Eadgils, are only mentioned in the Old English poem Widsith. They are mentioned as the people of the scop Widsith. They appear to have been the neighbours of the Angles and Offa of Angel, who was involved in a war against them. Perhaps they were a dynasty or clan competing for power with Offa over the rule of the Angles, though Offa slew two Myrging princes, probably the sons of Eadgils (not to be confused with the Swedish king Eadgils); this Eadgils was later killed by Ket and Wig, the sons of Freawine, a governor of Schleswig who challenged Eadgils to combat while he was pillaging in the Angle lands. Freawine was killed in combat and the Myrgings may then have overrun Schleswig, as they are said to have settled or had holdings at Schleswig, though they were eventually defeated by Offa, who extended the boundary with them to Fifeldor. Schleswig Schleswig Dan:
Now Dan II, finished what his father started. Dan II
Uffe was succeeded by his son DAN, who carried his arms against foreigners, and increased his sovereignty with many a trophy; Langobards:
Now, you have probably heard of the Langobards.
They are better known as the Lombards.
The lombarts actually were of South scandinavian origin, before being forced to migrate in to Germania.
And the Lombards are the same people that would later on in history, invade Italy. Lombards
The medieval Lombard historian Paul the Deacon wrote in the History of the Lombards (written between 787 and 796) that the Lombards descended from a small tribe called the Winnili, who dwelt in southern Scandinavia (Scadanan) before migrating to seek new lands. Link for photo Lombard migration The vandals:
Now what gets extremely interesting here, is that in even semi-contemporary history, the army that kicked the Lombards out of Denmark, were the vandals.
The vandals were obviously Dan II's army. Legendary origins
The Winnili were young and brave and refused to pay tribute, saying "It is better to maintain liberty by arms than to stain it by the payment of tribute." The Vandals prepared for war and consulted Godan (the god Odin), who answered that he would give the victory to those whom he would see first at sunrise. The Winnili were fewer in number and Gambara sought help from Frea (the goddess Frigg), who advised that all Winnili women should tie their hair in front of their faces like beards and march in line with their husbands. At sunrise, Frea turned her husband's bed so that he was facing east, and woke him. So Godan spotted the Winnili first and asked, "Who are these long-beards?," and Frea replied, "My lord, thou hast given them the name, now give them also the victory." From that moment onwards, the Winnili were known as the Longbeards (Latinised as Langobardi, Italianised as Longobardi, and Anglicized as Langobards or Lombards). Link to photo Saxon army trying to disguise themselves as women Keredic:
Now, it just so happens, that in around 510 AD, the Saxons enlisted the help of an Irish based army of Vandals, to drive out Cedric I of Wessex., even though Cerdic himself was king of the Saxons, the Saxons recognised him as more Romano-Brit, than Saxon. Keredic
Keredic (Welsh: Ceredig) was a legendary king of the Britons, as recounted by Geoffrey of Monmouth. The origin of Geoffrey's character is unknown, but he is not depicted as a Saxon. According to Geoffrey, Keredic's rule was so unpopular that the Saxons enlisted the aid of an army of Vandals from Ireland to drive him from his kingdom. Cerdic of Wessex:
Geoffrey's legendary Keredic may have been a conflation of Cerdic, the traditional founder of Wessex
Cerdic (/ˈtʃɜːrdɪtʃ/; Latin: Cerdicus) is cited in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as a leader of the Anglo-Saxon settlement of Britain, being the founder and first king of Saxon Wessex, reigning from 519 to 534 AD. Link for photo Cerdic of Wessex House of Scylding:
Now, back to Dan I just a second.
It must be pointed out that Dan I, was from house fo Scylding. Scylding
Old English Scylding (plural Scyldingas) and Old Norse Skjöldung (plural Skjöldungar), meaning in both languages "People of Scyld/Skjöld" refers to members of a legendary royal family of Danes), especially kings. Link for photo Scyldinga House of Scylfings:
Now, it is extremely likely that the house of Scylding in Denmark, is known as the house of Scylfing in Sweden.
Simply a slight different abbreviation,
However house of Scylding takes it's root from the age of migration, and the centre of the age of Migration, is Scythia.
The Ynglings were a legendary dynasty of kings, supposedly originating from Sweden. It can refer to the clans of the Scylfings (Old Norse Skilfingar), the semi-legendary royal Swedish clan during the Age of Migrations, Scythians:
Now, another name for the Scythians, were the Scoloti, and the Scoloti were the Royal family in charge of sending fallen Hittites home, after the Hittite empire fell to the Assyrian empire, around this time. Scythians
the Scythians called themselves Scoloti and were led by a nomadic warrior aristocracy known as the Royal Scythians. Link for photo Scythians Hittites: Hittites
After c. 1180 BC, during the Late Bronze Age collapse, the Hittites splintered into several independent Syro-Hittite states, some of which survived until the eighth century BC before succumbing to the Neo-Assyrian Empire. Link for photo Hittite territory Scotland:
Some of the Scoloti, likely eventually began returning to Scotland under Dan II.
And Oengus Olmucaid was likely Dan II. Angus:
Angus is also considered the birth place of Scotland, and this title likely pre-dates the declaration of Arbroath. Medieval history
Angus is marketed as the birthplace of Scotland. The signing of the Declaration of Arbroath at Arbroath Abbey in 1320 Link for photo Angus 3500 BC:
Angus was probably the birthplace of Scots, before becoming the birthplace of Scotland, and as Angus is supposed to date back to 3500 BC, then it also likely dates back to when Oengus Olmucaid sent the first Scoloti to Angus, possibly to the displeasure of locals. Pre-history
The area that now comprises Angus has been occupied since at least the Neolithic period. Material taken from postholes from an enclosure at Douglasmuir, near Friockheim, about five miles north of Arbroath has been radiocarbon dated to around 3500 BC. Link for photo Scottish flag Summary:
Therefore, it is perfectly believable, and probable, that Oengus Ol Mucaid was King of Denmark, Ireland, Angus, aswell as expeller of the Lombards.
It is also possible, that the Anglos did not invade Britain from the same shores as the Saxons did. Link for photo Irish flag
2020.09.08 19:01 StevenStevens43 Destroyed Temple of Thoth
| || |Ethriel: submitted by StevenStevens43 to AhrensburgCulture [link] [comments]
In Irish mythology, there was an Irish high king named Ethriel.
Ethriel is supposed to have reigned during the same period that Samson was the king of the tribes of Dan. Ethriel
Ethriel, son of Íriel Fáid, according to medieval Irish legends and historical traditions, succeeded his father as High King of Ireland. During his reign he cleared six plains. He ruled for twenty years, until he was killed in the Battle of Rairiu by Conmáel in revenge for his father Éber Finn, who had been killed by Ethriel's grandfather Érimón. He was the last of the chieftains who arrived in the invasion of the sons of Míl) to rule Ireland. The Lebor Gabála Érenn says that during his reign Tautanes, king of Assyria, died (1182 BC according to Jerome's Chronicon)), as did Hector and Achilles (the Trojan War is usually dated to the 13th century BC), and Samson was king of the Tribe of Dan in ancient Israel. Geoffrey Keating dates his reign from 1259 to 1239 BC, Link for photo Samson fighting a Lion Tribe of Danaan:
Ethriel himself, was from the tribe of Danann, as he was a Son of Mil, who was a king of Spain, and as we have covered in previous articles, Iberia was a Celtic stronghold during this period. (see Beaker culture). Milesians
In the Lebor Gabála Érenn, a medieval Irish Christian pseudo-history, the Milesians (Irish: gairthear Mílidh Easpáinne) are the final race to settle in Ireland. They represent the Irish people. The Milesians are Gaels who sail to Ireland from Iberia (Hispania) after spending hundreds of years travelling the earth. When they land in Ireland they contend with the Tuatha Dé Danann Link for photo
(1910)_(14760459036).jpg) Sons of Mil Tuatha de Dannan:
Now, the reason we know that Ethriel was from the tribe of Dannan, is because the Sons of Mil were the legendary Tuatha de Dannan, and the etymology of "Tuatha", means "People, tribe, nation". Name
The Old Irish word tuath (plural tuatha) means "people, tribe, nation"; Superhuman:
Now the fact that many superhuman attributes get awarded to Tuatha de Dannan figures, perhaps makes the Tuatha de Dannan appear mythological.
However it is quite contemporary that during this period there was an Indo-Aryan empire known as the Hittite empire that was waging a serious assault on Egypt and it's surrounding vassal kingdoms, and those Hittites began to take on a super-human aura. New kingdom
During the Hittite Empire period the kingship became hereditary and the king took on a "superhuman aura" and began to be referred to by the Hittite citizens as "My Sun". The kings of the Empire period began acting as a high priest for the whole kingdom—making an annual tour of the Hittite holy cities, conducting festivals and supervising the upkeep of the sanctuaries. King Thorri:
A good example of super-human legends comes from a Swedish mythological king named king Thorri from house of ynglings, who is supposed to be descended from Dan I. About Thorri
King Thorri (Þorri 'frozen snow') was son of Snær ('Snow') the Old, a descendant of Fornjót ("king of Jotlandi (also spelled Gotlandi), later known as Quennlandi and Finnlandi"). See Snær and Fornjót for further information. The name Þorri has long been connected with that of Þórr, the name of the Norse thunder god Thor, or thunder personified. Link for photo Thor Superman:
A grandson of King Snow, and Frost before that, king Nór marries Hedda (Höddu) daughter of Svaða Jótun that may be seen as descending from the Scyldings, from the Kings of Lejre, the stronghold of the descendants of Dan) in Denmark.
Another good example of self confessed supermen during this period, comes from Indo god of war, Subrahmanya.
Kartikeya (Sanskrit: कार्त्तिकेय, IAST: Kārttikeya), also known as Skanda, Kumara,, Murugan and Subrahmanya, is the Hindu god of war. Link for photo Subrahmanya Sea peoples:
Now during this period, several pharoahs, including Merneptah, carried out wars against a notorious naval group named the "sea peoples".
He described the sea peoples as "Northerners from all lands". Campaigns
Merneptah had to carry out several military campaigns during his reign. In the fifth year of his rule, he fought against the Libyans, who— with the assistance of the Sea Peoples— were threatening Egypt from the west. Merneptah led a victorious six-hour battle against a combined Libyan and Sea People force at the city of Perire, probably located on the western edge of the Nile delta. His account of this campaign against the Sea Peoples and Libu is described in prose on a wall beside the sixth pylon at Karnak, which states: Link for photo Merneptah Merneptah:
[Beginning of the victory that his majesty achieved in the land of Libya] -I, Ekwesh, Teresh, Lukka, Sherden, Shekelesh, Northerners coming from all lands.
Merneptah reigned 1213 and 1203 BC, so that would not quite put him within the 1259 to 1239 BC period given in Irish mythology for the reign of Samson. Merneptah
Merneptah or Merenptah (reigned July or August 1213 BC – May 2, 1203 BC) was the fourth pharaoh of the Nineteenth Dynasty of Ancient Egypt. Ramesses II:
The reign of Samson would have been during the reign of Remesses II: Ramesses II
Ramesses II /ˈræməsiːz, ˈræmsiːz, ˈræmziːz/ (variously also spelt Rameses or Ramses (Ancient Egyptian: rꜥ-ms-sw "Ra is the one who bore him" > Koinē Greek: Ῥαμέσσης, romanized: Rhaméssēs); c. 1303 BC – July or August 1213; reigned 1279–1213 BC), also known as Ramesses the Great, was the third pharaoh of the Nineteenth Dynasty of Egypt. Link for photo
.jpg) Ramesses II Battle against Sherden sea pirates:
Now the war between Egypt and the Hittite empire, was not a quick one, it carried on for hundreds of years, until the Hittites eventually collapsed the Egyptian dynasty, and therefore, Ramesses II was also called in to action against Sherden sea pirates. Battle against sherden sea pirates
In his second year, Ramesses II decisively defeated the Sherden sea pirates who were wreaking havoc along Egypt's Mediterranean coast by attacking cargo-laden vessels travelling the sea routes to Egypt. The Sherden people probably came from the coast of Ionia, from southwest Anatolia or perhaps, also from the island of Sardinia. Ramesses posted troops and ships at strategic points along the coast and patiently allowed the pirates to attack their perceived prey before skillfully catching them by surprise in a sea battle and capturing them all in a single action. Sea peoples:
Now let us just stop a moment, to make sure we are under no elusions as to how notorious the Sea peoples were.
The Sea peoples are actually blamed for the late bronze age collapse, and likely led to the downfall of the native egyptian dynasty, more than the pitch battles conducted by the Hittite army. Sea peoples
The Sea Peoples are a purported seafaring confederation that attacked ancient Egypt and other regions of the East Mediterranean prior to and during the Late Bronze Age collapse (1200–900 BCE). Tribe of Dan:
Now what happened to the survivors of those defeats that got captured?
Well, the Egyptians en-rolled them in to the Egyptian army, in return for donating them lands in vassal kingdoms.
What happened to those that escaped? Well, would they not have just went home? Perhaps made their way back to Ireland, via their Iberian strong-hold?
Now, the best theory for who the tribe of Dan is, is that they were captured sea peoples from the tribe of Dannan. Or tribe of Denyan, as referred to by the Egyptians. Amenope
The Onomasticon of Amenope, or Amenemipit (amen-em-apt), gives slight credence to the idea that the Ramesside kings settled the Sea Peoples in Canaan. Dated to about 1100 BCE, at the end of the 21st dynasty (which had numerous short-reigned pharaohs), this document simply lists names. After six place names, four of which were in Philistia, the scribe lists the Sherden (Line 268), the Tjeker (Line 269) and the Peleset (Line 270), who might be presumed to occupy those cities. The Story of Wenamun on a papyrus of the same cache also places the Tjeker in Dor at that time. The fact that the Biblical maritime Tribe of Dan was initially located between the Philistines and the Tjekker, has prompted some to suggest that they may originally have been Denyen. Tribe of Dan:
Now, typical of a sea fairing people, the Denyans ended up settling in a coastal part of Israel. Tribe of Dan
The Tribe of Dan (Hebrew: דָּן), meaning, "Judge", was one of the tribes of Israel, according to the Torah. They were allocated a coastal portion of land when the people of Israel entered the Promised Land, later moving northwards. Link for photo Tribe of Dan Lived on their boats:
Now, the Danites are believed to have actually not bothered settling on the Danite mainland of Israel, instead choosing to just live in their boats.
Assumably in the harbours. Characteristics
Their primary trade characteristic was seafaring, unusual for the Israelite tribes. In the Song of Deborah the tribe is said to have stayed on their ships with their belongings.[20 The Danites left port at the fall of the Hittite empire:
Now, when the Assyrian empire rose up and defeated the Hittite empire, the Danites took off in their boats and did not bother to hang around and Help Israel defend themselves against the Assyrians, and they were never seen again. Assyrian conquest and demise
As part of the Kingdom of Israel), the territory of Dan was conquered by the Assyrians, and exiled; the manner of their exile led to their further history being lost. Link for photo Dan Dan I:
Now, i think common sense alone would suggest, that the Denyan, likely returned to Northern regions, such as Ireland and Denmark.
You know, regions that had been under the kingship of Dan I, when they first got sent to the near to middle east to stop the charge of Thutmose III, who was leading the Egyptian native army northwards at a high speed. Dan I
Dan I was the progenitor of the Danish royal house according to Saxo Grammaticus's Gesta Danorum. He supposedly held the lordship of Denmark along with his brother Angul), the father of the Angles in Angeln, which later formed the Anglo-Saxons in England. Link for photo Dan I Samson:
Now this is not the end.
I now want to shift focus to Samson. Conquest and territory
The most celebrated Danite was Samson, a Danaite judge from the period of settlement in the lands allotted by Joshua. Pnina Galpaz-Feller sees similarities between the story of Samson and Denyen tribal legends. Destroyed the temple of Dagon:
Now, Samson is attributed to have destroyed the temple of Dagon. Samson
When the Philistines took Samson into their temple of Dagon, Samson asked to rest against one of the support pillars. After being granted permission, he prayed to God and miraculously recovered his strength, allowing him to bring down the columns, collapsing the temple and killing himself as well as all of the Philistines. Link to photo Pillars of Dagon Temple of Dakka:
However, historically factually, the Temple of Dagon, was likely actually the temple of Dakka, in Nubia/Sudan/ancient egypt. Temple of dakka
Ad-Dakka (Arab: الدكة, also el-Dakka, Egyptian: Pselqet, Greek: Pselchis) was a place in Lower Nubia. It is the site of the Greco-Roman Temple of Dakka, dedicated to Thoth, the god of wisdom in the ancient Egyptian pantheon. Link for photo Temple of Dakka Temple of Thoth:
Now, in actual fact, it would not even be pertaining to the Temple of Dakka, as the temple of Dakka was only constructed in the 3rd BC, and was a reconstruction of earlier destroyed temples, in slightly different locations.
Now, dating back to the time of Ramesses II, there appears to be temple ruins from a location named Kubban, which is the earliest known temple of Dakka/Thoth. Relocation
During the construction of the Aswan dam in the 1960s, the temple was dismantled and moved to the site of Wadi es-Sebua. At the time of its removal, some reused stone blocks from Thutmose III, Seti I and Merneptah were discovered which originated from an earlier New Kingdom structure in or near Kubban. The temple's pylon is now separated from the remainder of the temple due to the missing enclosure walls of the open court. Link for photo Nubia Summary:
This would suggest, that the temple was likely destroyed by captured Denyan's fighting under Samson, for Ramesses II, during one of his Nubian campaigns, against the lower cataracts. Campaigns in Nubia
Ramesses II also campaigned south of the first cataract of the Nile into Nubia. When Ramesses was about 22, two of his own sons, including Amun-her-khepeshef, accompanied him in at least one of those campaigns. By the time of Ramesses, Nubia had been a colony for 200 years, but its conquest was recalled in decoration from the temples Ramesses II built at Beit el-Wali (which was the subject of epigraphic work by the Oriental Institute) during the Nubian salvage campaign of the 1960s), Gerf Hussein and Kalabsha in northern Nubia. On the south wall of the Beit el-Wali temple, Ramesses II is depicted charging into battle against the Nubians in a war chariot, while his two young sons, Amun-her-khepsef and Khaemwaset, are shown behind him, also in war chariots. A wall in one of Ramesses's temples says he had to fight one battle with the Nubians without help from his soldiers. Link for photo Ramesses II in his War charriot Summary:
Therefore, it is most likely that the Tuatha de Dannan, and Samson, were real historical figures, and Samson truly was a king that was involved in the destruction of a temple, but likely not in the location, nor environment, depicted in legends.
And Irish mythology, ties in perfectly with known contemporary history.
Though the story of Samson destroying the temple with his own super-human strength, is likely euhemerised from the true stroy of 408 BC olympic winner Polydamas of Skotoussa, who had quite literally won the title of hardest man in the world, after winning the pankratiast finals.
Pankratism was a sporting event were competitors fought eachother without rules.
So, unlike todays boxing events, pankratists were actually competing in real fights.
He apparently was killed whilst performing a heroic act of strength, when a roof caved in, and he held the roof up long enough for everyone else to escape, though he himself died.
Skotoussa is also thought to have killed a ferocious lion on mount Olympus with his bare hands.
Samson is also credited with this feat.
Therefore, superhuman acts achieved by Samson, are likely usurped from real stories connected with the Olympic gold medalist Skotoussa.
Polydamas of Skotoussa: Polydamas of Skotoussa
Polydamas of Skotoussa (Greek: Πολυδάμας (gen.: -ντος) ὁ Σκοτουσσαῖος), son of Nicias, was a Thessalian pankratiast, and victor in the 93rd Olympiad (408 BC).
His size was said to be immense and the most marvellous stories are related of his strength (for example, how, without any weapons, he killed a huge lion on Mount Olympus, or how he stopped a chariot at full gallop). His reputation led Darius II of Persia to invite him to his court, where he performed similar feats.
In the end, Polydamas' strength could not prevent his demise. One summer, he and his friends were relaxing in a cave when the roof began to crumble down upon them. Believing his immense strength could prevent the cave-in, he held his hands up to the roof, trying to support it as the rocks crashed down around him. This gave enough time for his friends to flee the cave and reached safety, but Polydamas never got out and died.
2020.09.04 10:00 JescoWhiteLightning XPWEW Friday Night PYRO (9-4-2020) results "Escala De La Muerte"
XPWEW Friday Night Pyro
Date: September 4th, 2020
Channel: VICE TV @ 10PM EST
-Intro song plays- and both participants are in the ring already and boom the Number 1 Contendership Match for Leonard McGraw's XPWEW World Title is on! The undefeated El Demonio (3-0) and Joe Gacy (6-9-1) with 4 of those wins being in the last month, Upward trajectory. (Leonard is the world champion and his record is spotty)
Number 1 contedendership Match
1 on 1
M1: El Demonio def. Joe Gacy (w/ Audrey Carbine) ***MATCH OF THE NIGHT***
(Amazing back and forth battle with two clashing styles, Ultimately a Pedrigree Package Piledriver from Demonio put away the death machine for the 1-2-3 and Carbine can't control herself from defending her fellow partner, Gacy (who burned her in a 'Ring of Fire' match just two weeks ago, they gained some mutual respect in that match)
- Carbine locks on 'The Art of Ballistics' chicken wing on Demonio to which XPWEW World Heavyweight Champion: Leonard McGraw runs down to the ring and runs at rapid speed with his Buckshot clothesline from hell, Demonio while being choked by Carbine, McGraw clotheslines both of them with a wicked lariat. Leonard is unhinged, However Gacy has the title and he's about to whack McGraw with it from behind, McGraw turns around and has a stardown with Joe Gacy who is holding his world title, McGraw stares into Gacy's soul. Gacy then lets his guard down, holds McGraw's belt out from him and then spits a gigantic loogie on McGraw's World Title and then drops it on the ground. McGraw starts swining wildly and him and Gacy trade punches until Gacy verbally submits with an "okay okay okay"
Gacy slides out of the ring in congruence with a stunned Audrey Carbine as they walk backward up the ramp, McGraw helps El Demonio up from the canvas and Demonio grabs a microphone.
El Demonio: "LADDER MATCH!!!!!!!!!" ESCALA DE LA MURETA!!!!!!!!!!!
McGraw: *extends handshake*
Demonio: accepts handshake, McGraw tightens his grip and aggressively pulls Demonio nose to nose with him. McGraw: "I don't speak spanish but..I'm not a afraid of heights but son I'll shove that God damn Ladder up your ass. And Joe Gacy, you big crooked nose bastard! Look at me! You like to spit huh? Next week come on down, spit on these ladders, lube it up so I can stick it up both y'all's asses" - McGraws music plays....What a segment.
In ring segment: Mr. Case Your Luck Romeo Roselli with his new protegé Doxy Deity
(Romeo speaks on the importance of his briefcase and that at any time he can become the world champion, Who's to say I don't climb that ladder next week!)
- Jake Awesome (c) enters with Myron Reed, Kotto Brazil & Jordan Oliver (c)
(Jake speaks on his recent run-in with Milwaukee Bucks player Giannis Antetokounmp and how he is still the INTERNATIONAL champion and Giannis is still not a champion. You wouldn't dare cash in on me, So I'll do one better. Next week. I'll defend the International Title. But if I win you gotta hand your briefcase over to a member of The Set that I feel has earned it. (Myron, Kotto & Jordan stand confidently)
Jake: and Romeo, I doubt you'll pass the test
Doxy Deity: Jake, I doubt you could pass a piss test, you are on more gas than Citgo..So bring those Spongebob Squarepants blow up muscles next week and my man will become the new International Champion
Jake: *chuckles* that's cute, Doxy, is that your name? Doxy? Speak ill on my name and I'll dox you and your whole family. I myself will find every member of your family and kick their f****** teeth down their throat, So watch your mouth
(Myron, Kotto & Jordan jawjacking at Romeo however the subtitles can't process it)
The Tessa Blanchard XPWEW Women's Title Open Challenge
1 on 1
M2: Tessa Blanchard (c) def. Kiera Hogan
* Lotus' music plays as if to cash in her CYL briefcase, nothing happens. Tessa mouths off, Open Challenge bitch! Open challenge for a reason! I ain't scared of you little girl!
Backstage: Locker room we see Garrett Thompson at a locker looking through his gym bag; when former XPWEW Champion Champagne Clausen waltzes up pretending as if he just bumped into him
Garrett: Can I help you?
Champagne: Oh.....well I can help myself. Last year in October I was in a sea full of hicks and I won the world title, and
Garrett: I said can I help you not can I listen to you, I'm not interested in hearing your bull**** today
Champagne: Ah, I see GT. Is it because you've never been a world champion? Hmm Sure 2013 you main evented Lockdown 5 in a what, multi man 4 way dance. And wait you lost, as a matter of fact Garrett you were the first man eliminated.
Garrett: stares intensely
Champagne: In this industry I am here and you are...right here. You don't measure up..
Garrett decks Champagne and they start slugging it out in the locker room with fiery fists until Ethan Bedlam and 3M3 break them up, Champagne has a bloody lip
Champagne: You wanna box? You wanna bare knuckle box boy huh, This ain't Rocky huh, jobbers.......
Ethan Bedlam: You got a death wish?
Champagne: If he wants to box, then let's box...
- Jacques Dudley enters
- Masato Tanaka enters
1 on 1
M3: Masato Tanaka def. Jacques Dudley in a hard fought win between these veterans, Jacques walks off looking defeated...
James Westerbeck holds a post match interview with Tanaka at ringside, Tanaka says I am striving to win the world title before I call it a career, I'm far from done.
( Joe Gacy comes out and spits in Tanaka's face, Tanaka goes to retaliate and Gacy just irish whips him into the ringpost, Audrey Carbine holds Tanaka still and Gacy takes a steel chair, scares away James Westerbeck with it then with Tanaka's head of the steel steps, Gacy smashes the chair over Tanaka's head and walks away and when Tanaka rolls over he's covered in a bloody crimson mask. Gruesome attack on Masato Tanaka from The Death Machines
- Anarchy Rules 2020 PPV ad - 16 days away!!!!
- VICE TV is free to stream ALL SEPTEMBER ad!!!
Tag Team Match
M4: The Set (Myron Reed & Kotto Brazil) w/ Jordan Oliver (c) def. The Vaudevillains of The Marauder Simon Gotch & Drama King Aiden English w/ Mandy Leon
- Myron picked up the win over Gotch in the finish after hitting the clout cutter, Jake Awesome walks out on stage and applauds The Set and then has a chat with Myron (possibly because he picked up the win for the team, If Awesome defeats Roselli next week maybe Myron is who 'deserves' the Case Your Luck briefcase PENDING IF AWESOME successfully defeats Romeo Roselli next week)
- 1/2 of the XPWEW Tag Team Champions: Golden Bryce enters (We see Alveno watching on a monitor backstage, rooting his cousin on)
- Former World Champion: Ruckus enters with Siaka Lexoni and Chrissy Rivera of The SET
1 on 1
Lockdown Seven Rematch
M5: Ruckus def. Golden Bryce (c)
After the match 1/2 of the XPWEW Tag Team Champions: Alveno La Flare comes down the ramp to console Bryce on his loss, Ruckus and Lexoni with Rivera mock Alveno doing 'crybaby' faces as they laugh up the ramp. The Set is victorious as Pyro comes to a close.
Alveno extends his hand and helps Bryce to his feet, As it appears they might be defending those Tag Titles against The Set on the 20th at Anarchy Rules
submitted by JescoWhiteLightning
to XPWEW [link] [comments]
2020.08.31 23:14 Jrubas My Friend's Bed Was Haunted by Sexual Energy
I was signing autographs in a downtown Richmond book boutique when Henry came in. I had been there for over four hours, sitting at a folding table scribbling my name on the inside covers of endless copies of Night Terrors, and was exhausted. My arm ached and my head throbbed. Meeting a perpetual flow of fans, many of them gushing, is hell to me. Don’t get me wrong, I love them dearly, but social situations tend to repel me, and actually engaging people I don’t know is an awkward near impossibility.
It was nearing one, dark and nasty without, and I was longing for a nice long nap in my hotel room when Henry’s turn came. I thought that the woman before him, a middle-aged blond in a brown leather jacket, would never leave. But thankfully Mr. Preston, the owner of the shop, ushered her away in his prissy manner.
I smiled at the man whom I did not recognize as Henry. He was tall and pale, his wavy black hair limp and lusterless, the flesh of his face tight and his eyes an unhealthy pink which bespoke sleepless nights. He smiled wearily yet warmly.
Without a word he passed me his copy of Night Terrors. “And how are you today?” I asked as I sat the book down, my blue Sharpie pen, the second one of the day, poised.
“Just peachy,” he croaked, and I at once knew the voice. I looked up, and Henry was still grinning as if through pain.
“Henry!” I cried happily, and extended my hand. He took it, and it was like a block of ice.
I and Henry were like brothers since time out of mind; our parents were high school friends who lived next to each other in the Pickett subdivision on Thomas Street, and from diapers we were always together, on play dates, camping trips, and backyard pool parties. We were inseparable all through our school years, and only parted, tearfully and grudgingly, when I left Picketts Meade to study at UVA in 1997. Since then, we had seen very little of each other, as I lived mostly in New York City and he in the house willed to him by his childless aunt and uncle.
“Hey, man,” he said, “what’s goin on?”
“Not much,” I said, “same old stuff. Working and all that. What about you?”
He shrugged. “Same here, pretty much. Listen, are you free this afternoon?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I got a ghost,” he said, as though the words were kidney stones.
“Sure, I’d be happy to come by.”
Henry smiled again. “Thanks. You know where my aunt’s old place is, right?”
“Ahhh, no, I forgot.”
“Okay, here.” Henry pulled out his wallet and opened it. In the translucent slot where preening fathers proudly put pictures of their children, there was a faded Polaroid of two boys, one tall and skinny, the other short and fat, at a lake on a summer day in 1988, mugging it up with their arms thrown around the other’s shoulder. I had the same one in my wallet.
Henry produced a small piece of creased paper and, with my pen, jotted down the directions.
“I’ll be there at around four or so,” I said, sticking the paper into my blazer’s breast pocket.
“Thanks a million, man, I can’t tell you the kinda shit I been goin through.”
“I can imagine.”
“Good book; is it number one?”
I snickered. “Ahead of Glenn Beck? I wish.”
Henry shrugged. “Still a classic. I can’t believe some of the shit. All of it’s real?”
“As you and I,” I replied. I jotted down my name and a small, personal message onto the inside cover, and handed it back to Henry.
“I’ll see you,” he said. “I’ll be there,” I responded with a smile.
Almost two hours later I left the bookstore by the back door, emerged into a narrow ally of grimy brick walls, and carefully crept toward busy 5thstreet. Above, the sky was malevolently silent.
Before leaving the relative safety of the alley, I looked both ways along the sidewalk, and found it empty save for several rushing, bundled forms. For a moment I was reminded of those old shots of The Beatles running from mad throngs of screaming women through the streets of London, and smiled.
I stepped into a freezing gust and hurried up the sidewalk, passing drab storefronts darkened by the gloomy afternoon light. A Ford Focus passed by on the street in a splash of puddled rain, its red taillights glowing satanically in the mist.
Ahead, a brave hotdog vendor, possibly a transplanted New Yorker, stood tensely behind his cart, ready to feed the world. He offered me a taste of his wares, and the almost desperate imploring of his voice touched me. Imagining poverty and mounting bills, I bought a small fountain Coke even though I wasn’t thirsty, and almost as soon as I was out of sight I cast the cup into a metal trash bin, the clanking ice cubes within having sapped the heat from my hand.
Slowly the scenery bled into one of the residential. Dirty Brownstone tenements marched dismally into the ashen day, their crumbling stoops guarded by rusted metal sentries overflowing with rank refuse.
I finally came to the small lot where I had left my Jeep in-between a pick-up truck and a hatchback. The latter was gone, replaced by a small red Beetle. I fished the keys from my pocket and opened the driver side door.
Behind the wheel, I started the engine and the radio came to life with one bland Taylor Swift song or another. Before leaving I slipped Krokus’ Change of Address into the CD player, and slowly cruised back the way I had come.
Several minutes later I took a sloping onramp and met the babbling interstate; before I joined the flow I waited for several large Mac trucks to scream by in their shrouds of water mist. The meager Richmond skyline stretched away to the east, interrupted only by the wide river which bisects the city. Maybe it was the mood and light of the afternoon, but the city seemed a deserted necropolis, the buildings bizarre Druid ruins rising black against the sky.
Once on the interstate I noticed that several idiots cars next to mine were busy blabbering into their cell-phones or texting. I’m not the kind of guy who wants to ban this and that, or the kind of asshole who preaches his opinion to everybody, but I know what can happen on a freeway when someone wants to whip out the old Droid and chat.
One girl, with wet black hair and dressed in a loose white t-shirt, flipped me off when I motioned hang up and drive.
Women, I thought with a grin, they taste good…but the heartburn!
I soon took rural Exit 154 and coasted into the parking lot of a small roadside gas station fed by a narrow hillside lane. I pulled under the gas-pump shelter and killed Marc Storace in the middle of Burning up the Night. I searched my hip pocket and checked the directions again. The name of the town was Fairfield, not too far north of the city.
I got out into the damp and filled the jeep up with juice, wincing at the price. With that done, I crossed the open space between the pumps and the store, my hair dampening, and entered.
After waiting for a white man in a mossy oak camo cap to buy a six pack of Bud Ice and a black woman to purchase a pack of condoms and tampons (an ungodly mix, if you ask me), it came my turn. The wispy old man behind the counter, wearing country regulation suspenders over his button up work shirt, studied me for a long moment.
“Hey, you’re that writer fella, aintcha?” he asked with a rough smile, revealing that his teeth were mostly black or tarnished gold.
Despite a swelling of pride in my chest, I wanted desperately to avoid an embarrassing scene.
“Hm. You look a lot like ‘im. She loves all that damn ghost huntin’ garbage.”
I paid for the gas, and the old man wished me a good afternoon with a crooked grin.
Once back in my car, I again studied the directions, trying to absorb them so that I wouldn’t have to constantly consult them in transit.
Feeling confident that I could make it on my own, I started up the engine and followed the ascending byway toward Fairfield.
I soon left behind all urban pretense and found myself speeding through low hills and tiny hamlets made up of slanted wood structures decades past their prime. It had begun to rain more steadily. Crossing the murky Roman River, I saw that it had overflowed its banks.
The winding lane took me past yet more hilly farmland enclosed by strands of barbed wire, putting me slightly in mind of northern England. When I came to the outer limits of Fairfield, which sat across another, smaller, swollen river, I was greeted by a white board sign proclaiming it as The Nicest Town in America.
Main Street, lined with gray brick shops dating from the 1920s, sank down into the rest of the town, from which a white church spire rose into the air, and a blue water tower next to a tall brick schoolhouse loomed supernaturally forth from the thick valley mist. The sidewalk boasted fiery trees, the embers of which carpeted the wet concrete.
At the four-way intersection, the only cars that I met were a station wagon going to the east part of town, a minivan heading back the way I had come, and an SUV going down into the heart of the town, which lied spread before the hill like a fog enshrouded dream.
I took the left and followed the street for a time, passing a small doctor’s office and the police station. The big roll-top doors of the local volunteer fire department were open, and I glimpsed several men in the gloom lazily wiping down the sleeping green dragon within. A group of children struggled down the sidewalk with crammed backpacks dragging along the wet pavement. A boy on a ten-speed bike shot past them and hung a sharp right, taking a small dead-end road ending at the foot of the hill. In the rear view mirror a large yellow school grinded to a halt, the red lights on its mounted stop sign blinking rhythmically. Teenagers tumbled out and hurried across.
Lee Street was an odd mix of ranch and Victorian houses, all beautiful and tastefully enclosed by hedges or withering gardens. A few of the larger homes were sectioned off with low stone walls waist high to a man.
The last house on the left was tall and narrow, dating back at least to the latter half of the 1890s. With spires and gingerbread trim it affected a stately air.
I parked along the street and sat for a moment, memories washing over me. I and Henry had come here several summers during our childhood. Being unable to have children, Jo and Oscar doted on us so much it was almost cloying. They were rabid antique collectors, and spent thirty happy years hoarding history together before Flight 93 went down over Pennsylvania on the eleventh of September, 2001.
I killed the engine and got out into a brisk slap of wind. After waiting for a minivan to swoosh past, I crossed the street. The grass along the flagstone walk was encroachingly tall, and I wondered if Henry’s ghost had hidden his lawnmower.
I bounded up the porch and knocked on the door. I waited in the cold for a moment, a wind from the west raking my flesh. Finally, as I cocked my fist to knock again, the door opened, and was filled with Henry, dressed as he had been at the bookstore.
“Hey, man” he greeted and moved aside.
“Long time no see,” I smiled. Stepping across the threshold, I was immediately struck by the heaviness of the atmosphere, crushing down on me like the world upon Atlas’s shoulders. I staggered, and Henry at one grabbed my arm and helped steady me.
“Uh-oh,” he said, “I don’t like that.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, looking suspiciously about myself, “just tired.” I didn’t at once remember what such a black heft meant, but I did know that it wasn’t good. At all.
“Well, if you wanna go back…”
“Nah,” I dismissed, “I’m alright.”
“Okay,” Henry said and led me from the shadowy foyer and into a wide parlor. A large bay window, an ugly modern addition, sat across the room, uncurtained. Save for tall, dusty bookshelves along either wall, the only other furnishings in the room were a couch piled with tangled blankets and a pillow, and two armchairs.
Henry showed me to one of the chairs and took the one across from me.
“So, what’s up? How’s life treating you?”
I sighed. “Alright. I hate the touring, though. I can’t stand being on the road.”
“Ah,” he dismissed me with a wave of the hand, “you always were a little homebody. I love the open road. Nothing like it. You want a drink?”
“Coke,” he warned me.
He laughed and moved off to the kitchen, leaving me alone in the room. The dark feeling pressed down on me harder than it had been, compressing my chest. I tried to take a deep breath, but was unable. It was like standing on a high butte overlooking a strange plain in a dark world, the air thin and sour.
Henry returned with two Cokes. He handed me one and sat back down. “Sorry they’re not cold. I just bought ‘em on the way back.”
“That’s fine,” I said, opening mine and taking a long drink. Henry sat his between his legs.
“I saw you on Ghost Hunters last month,” he said with something like pride, “I was over at my old girlfriend’s house and when your mug popped out, I about went crazy. “Hey, I know that guy!””
My appearance on the popular SYFY Channel show had been little more than a publicity stunt engineered by my agent. I was against it from the first, but ending up going on anyway. The target was a 13th Century castle on an Irish bluff overlooking the crashing sea. Supposedly, a family of werewolves had lived there in the sixteen hundreds.
“They’re a sham,” I said, glancing around as if expecting a hostile apparition to materialize. Maybe I was.
“Those attention whores,” I said, referring to the ‘ghost hunters’. “There weren’t any ghosts. It was all faked. The noises. The mist. All of it.
“I figured,” Henry said, “they usually are.”
“I guess,” I looked around.
“Yeah.” Henry finished off his Coke and sat the empty can at his foot.
“So, what have you been doing?” I asked, “just hanging out?”
“Yeah,” he said, “aunt Jo and uncle Oscar weren’t rich. They had money, but not much. The way the recession’s going, I’m probably gonna have to go back to work soon.”
“Sometimes I wish I could just stop writing and investigating and all that and just live off my books’ proceeds,” I confided, “live the life without doing the work.”
Henry chuckled. “You’re lucky; you got a kick-ass job. I’m most likely gonna end up at Food-Lion or something.”
“Gotta start somewhere,” I said. “Maybe we can write a novel together.”
Both of us had tried as children to write our own horror stories. Henry’s were mostly better than mine.
“Maybe,” he seemed to taste the idea.
I opened my mouth to reply, but a stiff gust of wind slammed into the house, and I jolted.
Henry laughed. “Scared?”
I shook my head. “No, not really. I just…well, what exactly are we dealing with, here?”
Henry sobered, his face darkening. “I…I been thinking how to word this for a while now.” He paused. “You ever hear that phrase La petite mort?”
I missed a beat. “What?”
“You know, that French metaphor? It refers to a state of euphoria after you “finish.””
“Yeah, I know.”
Henry sat grasping for a moment. “People believe that some kind of spiritual lifeforce is…expelled when you cum. Somehow that’s like dying or something.”
“Uh-huh,” I nodded awkwardly.
“And in Ghosts and Ghouls, you said that some people think a ghost is just…leftover human energy. Right?”
“The atheists and agnostics in the field, yes.”
“Do you think it’s possible that…that release of energy can leave a…a ghostly residue?”
I laughed. “Henry, that’s just a metaphor; it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are you sure?”
I opened my mouth, but closed it again. I couldn’t honestly say that I was.
“What…what makes you ask that?”
“It’s my bed,” he replied darkly.
He nodded. “Remember Sarah Kerns?”
For a moment I drew a blank, and then an angular face framed in raven hair materialized before my mind’s eye.
“Sure,” I said, “your girlfriend in eighth grade. What about her?”
“Remember how she moved over the summer, before we started high school?”
I nodded. Her father was in some kind of business that forced him to relocate often. I can’t remember what it was, though.
“The night before she left, she came over to my house and we did it...”
“Alright,” I urged, and then it dawned on me. “You still have the same bed, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Never saw a good reason to get rid of it.”
“And you’ve…done a lot in it, huh?”
“A lot,” he admitted.
“And now you think…what, all that combined energy has created a sort of ghost?”
“Look, I know it’s crazy, but just hear me out, okay?”
Henry took a deep breath and began.
Several weeks before crying out to me for help, he told me, he had been lying awake in bed. It was a windy night and he was as far from sleep as a man can get, so, as he watched the darkened ceiling, he let his mind drift unfettered. He had always had a fertile imagination, and was entertaining himself with undisclosed fantasies when, all of a sudden, the foot of the bed lurched to one side, as though booted by an angry WWE star after an in-ring betrayal.
“Man, that scared the shit outta me,” Henry said. “I froze up and just laid there for a minute. Then it happened again, and this time I got knocked off.”
Frightened, Henry jumped up, fell in the sheets tangled at his feet, and flew down the stairs.
“I sat here in the living room for a little while. After a half hour or so, I decided it was a nightmare and went back up. In the room, I flipped on the light switch and…”
He was quiet for a long moment, looking down at his ashen hands. “And there was a fuckin dead girl spread out on the bed, covered in blood and shit.”
I gasped softly at this, my heart freezing in mid beat.
“You’re sure?” I asked incredulously.
He nodded without looking up. “Yeah. And she looked like Hanna Giles…you remember her, right?”
I did. She was a cheerleader during school, a tall drink of blond perfection. She and Henry spent much of the 11th grade getting hot and heavy together before he grew bored and found another conquest.
“And…and she…sat up, her fuckin eyes were black and she had these long Dracula fangs. She opened up her legs and…fucking blood gushed out.”
He stopped at my hiss of horror. “It looked like…you know, in The Shinning, when that elevator opens up in the beginning?”
I nodded, my mouth slightly agape.
“I saw that shit and lost my mind. I ran out the front door and down the street. Spent the rest of the night in a booth at the diner, too afraid to come home.”
In the morning, Henry stretched out in the parlor.
“I was having dinner the next day. A buffalo chicken Hungry Man. So, I was sitting at the kitchen table eating, when something above my head, in the room, crashed against the floor. And right after, I heard this long, high pitched laugh.”
Stiff with terror, Henry remained unmoving at the table for nearly an hour before packing up and going to a motel for a few days.
“I was starting to think it was a nightmare, but when that shit happened…”
Henry eventually returned, convinced that the “ghosts”, while frightening, were harmless.
“So, one night, I got brave and went back upstairs to see what would happen.”
After several uneventful hours, Henry was on the border of sleep when something, something cold and dry, wrapped around his throat.
“It felt like hands, little…you know, a woman’s hands.”
The world grayed as Henry clawned at the phantom hands to no avail. He nearly collapsed into death before they suddenly and inexplicably spared him.
“That was the other night. I was about to leave, go get a motel or something, but I heard you were coming down, so I thought I’d see if you could help me.”
For a long moment I sat in brooding silence.
In 1999, I left school to work for a noted regional paranormal researcher named John Haggis. I accompanied him on many outings, most of them busts. Only three confirmed cases of the genuinely supernatural came across our desk in the three years I worked with him, one of them being the demonic haunting of a bar in Headwaters, a tiny hamlet nestled in the Shenandoah foothills southwest of Harrisonburg.
I learned several things from our experience there. One: Demons despise the presence of a professional. Two: While ghosts can, on extremely rare occasions, possess human beings, only demons can shapeshift and actually harm someone without the use of a human agent.
“Have…have you ever smelled sulfur here?” I asked, my voice natural, at least to my own ears.
“Rotten eggs? No, why?”
“You’ve been left alone outside the room, right?”
“Yeah. What about the sulfur?” he seemed impatient.
I ignored him and looked from one shadowy corner to another, the house bathed in a sour, uneasy silence. I was shocked to find myself wanting to get as away from the house as I could.
“Henry,” I drew, my eyes darting apprehensively, “there…”
I stopped. How would he take hearing that a demon was in his house? But was it really a demon we were dealing with? I couldn’t be sure; I’m not, after all, a demonologist.
“What?” he asked, his tone low and worried.
If it was, then it appeared to be attached to the bed somehow, like a ghost to a favorite rocking chair…
“…I doubt that your ghost is made of girl goo.” I at length flashed a smile, hoping that it didn’t look too fake. “I’ve heard of similar cases, and they are relatively easy to deal with.”
“Really?” Henry’s face brightened for the first time all day, and his tone was one of a child in the presence of a shyster birthday-party magician.
“Yeah,” I said, “no problem. Tomorrow I’ll call some people and they’ll conduct…sort of an exorcism. It’ll be a breeze.”
Henry sighed, relieved. “Okay.”
I looked again from corner to corner. “Hey, you want to go and get some dinner, my treat?”
Henry smiled again, his dark eyes alight. “Sure.”
We took my car, and drove off into the thickening gloom. Main Street was busier than it had been when I entered town; it was past six, and people were returning home from work in droves.
“Take a left up here,” Henry said as we approached the four-way, “and go for about…five miles. Place called Ryan’s.”
I nodded, lost in thought. I would have to call Tom Youngblood, the only demonologist in the Richmond area, in the morning. And maybe I would have to call the Catholic Church in town, too. Then again, the church has tried in recent years to distance itself from the supernatural.
I took the left, and descended down into the heart of Fairfield. Queerly, about a mile of hillside between the upper and lower sections had been left undeveloped, and was currently a hopeless tangle of dead grass.
“Man, I feel like a weight’s been lifted,” Henry said as we passed the dark shops and rain sluiced sidewalks, empty save for the phantom trees along the edge. “You can really do all of this tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I said confidently. I took a deep breath, and seemed to blow away all of the mounting worry crushing my chest. I only had to call Tom and a priest, and they would take it from there. They were experts. It might not be an easy break, but it would get done. Demons were actually weak in the presence of religious men; which is why I abandoned my former atheism.
“Good. I can’t wait to get this shit behind me. It’s been a living hell, you know?”
I nodded, and then realized that it was probably too dark for Henry to see. “Yeah, I bet it’ll feel really good.”
“Like a million bucks,” Henry said.
“And…get rid of the damn bed. I don’t think that what we’re dealing with is…what you thought, but just burn it. It’s possible that the ghost is attached to it for some reason.”
“Way ahead of you, man,” Henry said. “I’m gonna go down to Mattress Warehouse and get me a new one tomorrow.”
At the end of town, just before the beginning of the dark, wet woods, I slowed at the traffic light, pulling to a stop alongside a school bus; the small lights affixed to the ceiling within were on against the dark. I saw a few dark silhouettes through the rectangular windows, and ascertained from their distorted shapes that they belonged to the high school’s football team.
“And…don’t have all your fun in one place, okay?” I said as we got back underway, the bus falling behind in the darkness.
“I ain’t gonna have that kinda fun for a long time.”
“Yeah, bullshit,” I jested in hopes of further lightening the mood, “you can’t go a week without having sex with someone…or something.”
Henry chuckled. “Yeah? I once went a month without doin your mom.”
“She needed that long to stop laughing at your…handicap.”
Henry laughed. “Okay. Just wait till we get there; take you in the bathroom and show you what’s up.”
I snorted. “What’s limp.”
“It won’t be limp when I shove it down…”
The restaurant, a sparkling oasis cloaked in primal black, loomed so quickly from the darkness that I nearly missed the turn.
“Alright,” Henry said after I had slid us into a slanted parking spot facing the empty road, his penis forgotten, “let’s get some grub.”
“You look like a German Jew,” I said as we got out of the car, “you need a good meal.”
“Yeah, thanks, mom,” Henry said as we crossed the parking lot. Through the big front windows, we could see happy families sharing joyful meals in the warm brightness.
We came to the double doors, and both held them open for the shuffling passage of an elderly couple. “Thank you,” the old man rasped and nodded as he helped his wife past us and toward a silver Cadillac parked in one of the closest handicap spots. They were immediately followed by two teenage girls in gym shorts and pink tops.
“What is it with kids dressing like that when it’s cold?” I whispered as we entered the restaurant, assaulted at once by the good odors of many steaming, mingling foods.
“If you got it flaunt it,” Henry reckoned.
We walked up to the long lunch counter and took cups, silverware and plastic trays from a hotplate guarded from inconsiderate sneezers by smudged plastic. We waited behind a party of rowdy college students to pay the casher.
We paid the chipper blond behind the register and were shown by a young sleepy eyed man in a red t-shirt and black slacks to a booth along the far wall of the room, mercifully away from the main population. Henry was immediately off to fix himself a plate at the buffet.
I sat at the booth for a moment, looking around the brightly lit room. It was crowded with families, mostly, passing food and laughing over their tables.
After another moment of inventorying how many people I would have to pass to get to the drink machine, I got up and moved to the Coke island. Apart from the dispenser there sat a plain metal canister marked with the picture of a tall, frosty glass of chocolate milk looming forward like a favorite uncle. I considered for a moment, and finally decided to get the milk, the likes of which I haven’t tasted since I was a child.
As I drew the dark liquid into my clear cup, a beefy older man in a brown leather jacket walked unthinkingly up to the machine and filled his cup with Sprite, all the while gasping softly to himself about someone named Mony-Mony.
Sidestepping a yellow WET FLOOR sign at the head of a nasty spill, I went back to the booth where Henry sat, bent protectively over a plate of fried chicken and breaded shrimp. I took my plate and quickly filled it up with French fries, several times nearly colliding with a young boy in small glasses examining each bright pile of food as if he would die if he did not detect the poison on his choices. At the booth I splattered a liberal amount of Tabasco sauce on the golden potatoes and dug in, my chocolate milk standing dutifully by should I need its aid.
“Remember Donny West?” Henry asked around a mouthful of food. I nodded. Donny had been one of our friends as kids before his mother moved the family to West Virginia. A beefy kid with red hair and deep freckles.
“Yeah. How can I forget?”
“What?” I asked, a bit of fry falling from my mouth and landing on the plate.
Henry nodded and swallowed. “I talked to his sister on Facebook, and she said he was drinking and wrecked his car into a tree a couple years ago. Took two of his friends with him.”
“That’s horrible,” I said numbly. Though I had not seen Donny in years, to hear that a once close friend was dead broke my heart.
“You remember what he did on April Fool’s Day that one time?” I asked Henry after a long, respectful moment of silence.
Henry nodded. “He had balls to do that.”
Donny, much more a practical joker than even Henry, had run the Stars and Bars of the Confederacy up the flag pole before school started that day. What made it even funnier were the facts that no one even noticed until lunch, and that the school sat right on the main highway in Picketts Meade.
“Yeah,” I sighed, black, cancerous nostalgia flooding me. “The good old days.”
We then lapsed into a comfortable silence. After savagely stripping the meat from a chicken bone, Henry wandered off to treat himself to a cold dessert. I finished the last of my fries and polished off the chocolate milk, my burning mouth greedily absorbing the cool liquid.
After a return trip to the machine, meeting once again the boy who had been diligently studying for his buffet safety PhD (he wasn’t quiet as conscientious when it came to Coca-Cola), I placed myself in my seat and awaited Henry. He soon returned empty-handed.
“They all sucked,” he declared.
I did not reply, but suddenly realized that the ice cream machine was next to the soda and chocolate milk fountains.
Suddenly, from across the room, there came a loud racket, drawling the puzzled stares of patrons in the gulf between walls. From a door came a line of people dressed in red shirts and black pants. The person at the head of the rank, a rather fetching teen goth with long midnight hair and a generous bosom, held something in her hands, something aflame, for her strong angler face was awash in orange. The Ryan’s troops behind her were clapping.
With mortification I saw them making a B-line toward our table like a personified children’s show choo-choo. Now all of the bemused eaters were looking toward me and Henry.
“You bastard,” I said, turning to Henry. He was smiling and clapping flourishingly. I broke out in my own grin, my cheeks afire. “Oh you son of a bitch; real funny.”
The Ryan’s Birthday Army now surrounded my half of the booth, leering over me like grinning psychos and clapping madly. I hung my head in embarrassment as they sat a flaming birthday cake on the table before me. “Bastard,” I muttered, lowering my head, realizing that now all of the other patrons too were looking at me and clapping.
Then the singing started.
I could just imagine Henry going up to our hostess and stage whispering across the counter, his hand shielding his mouth from prying lip readers, Pissst; it’s his birthday, pointing in my direction.
Coming out of the Ryan’s parking lot nearly half an hour later, I took a right on the rain swept street and followed it back to town past several large comfortable southern homes boasting screened in front porches and spotlighted flags. Most of these were protected from the street by rusted chin link fences.
We were silent and content, our stomachs full.
Finally desirous of breaking the silence, but too stuffed with food and lazy to speak, I switched on the radio, picking up a station from southern Maryland. After a “local” newscast about a New York mobster choking to death in a King George pizza joint and the discovery of a well-known radical poet shot dead in a D.C. parking garage, Cyndi Lauper came on with Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.
“Your song,” Henry croaked from the passenger seat.
I changed the station. The Culture Club was singing about a Church of the Poisoned Mind.
“Damn, must be your night,” Henry snickered from the darkness.
“Shut up,” I replied, hitting the scan button; the radio settled for a station playing a Seether song.
Henry laughed. “I meant you like eighties music. I wasn’t trying to say you’re gay…not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Pulling to the end of Henry’s street, I noticed that we had left none of the lights on when we departed; the thought of waltzing through the door into the pitch black slightly uneased me.
I thought of asking Henry to stay with me at the Marriot in Richmond rather than me staying with him, but quickly decided against it; we’d be safe in the parlor.
Putting down my own childish reluctance, I parked the car at the curb and killed the engine, shutting Kanye West off in mid-rant.
We entered the house and immediately repaired to the parlor, where Henry took care of stoking a warm fire into existence.
That done, he came back to his chair and sank with a pleasured sigh. “So, you gonna write about this?”
To be honest, the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “Maybe,” I said. Of course I would. Would it make it into my next book? It had a better chance than some of the other cases I had. People love their supernatural when it’s really weird.
“Well…” Henry said, but was interrupted by a terrible crash from overhead, which shook the house and caused us to jerk in surprised fear.
“There it is,” he shivered.
Another long bang sounded upstairs, as if something had thumped to the floor.
I swallowed around a lump in my throat, and opened my mouth, but was forestalled by another loud crash, this one followed by a stomach-piercing moan.
“Maybe we should go,” I stammered, a sudden bubble of stark fear overwhelming my cool rationality.
Henry licked his lips and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
I looked appraisingly up at the smooth ceiling above my head, partly hidden by the gloom. There was another thump that stopped my heart and froze my blood. A shower of fine plaster rained down upon me like hard snow, and I quickly averted my eyes to avoid it.
“Henry?” I panted breathlessly, wrestling with my own galloping fear.
“Fuck this,” Henry affirmed and moved to stand, “let’s…”
Henry had been whispering, as if worried about disturbing his inconsiderate guest, so I was able to hear the soft, terrible footfall. It was as if an electric shock ran through me, reducing my bones to jelly.
I heard it again, louder this time.
Henry’s eyes were wide. “Was that…?” he whispered superstitiously.
I gulped and nodded. “It sounded like it…
From the dark upstairs hall there came a soft, fugitive creak. Henry was now fully standing, his wiry body tense and rigid.
“Hennnryyyyyy!” drifted a thin and ghostly greeting.
“Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed, and bolted to my feet. I turned to the dark threshold into the rest of the hostile house, and saw nothing but playing shadows.
I spun on my heels. “We have to get the hell out of here!” I whispered incoherently, my mind reeling. There was no hope of using the front door. We would have to pass the stairs…
Henry stood slack in place, his eyes wide and seeming to vibrate with terror.
There was a more confident footfall from halfway down the staircase, and a definite swish like that of a passing priest’s cassock.
“Come on!” I screamed, my fear boiling over. I desperately regarded the window beyond Henry’s chair. It appeared wide enough for both of us to escape side-by-side.
I grabbed Henry’s wrist, but pulling him was like trying to move a wooden post set deeply in the ground.
“Come on, we gotta go, NOW!!” I screamed franticly, hearing the loud moan of the last step. Henry shook his head as if shaking away a dream and looked at me with frightened, pleading eyes. But before a word could pass between us he turned back to the threshold.
Hearing the horrible, damned-soul quality of his voice broke my resolve and nearly my mind. It was the high-pitched shriek of a child on finally seeing the thing under its bed and finding it far worse than imagined; it was the scream of a sinner being shown into his new abode in hell; it was the pitiful cry of a madman.
Fueled by mindless animal terror, I sprang for the window.
Forearms thrown protectively over my face, I crashed through with a cry, and sailed into the damp night in a shower of broken glass, my stomach throbbing in my throat. I hit the grassy ground with an umph and staggered to my feet, my knees watery and quivering.
Behind me, the laughter of madness turned into the orgasm of agony.
submitted by Jrubas
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2020.08.30 16:01 M_Mathur Ahriman proudly presents: The Banana Split
“And if you forget? Or somehow convince yourself this wasn’t real? I’ll find you right in that moment, Danny Boy. I’ll find you. And I’ll kill you.”
This is without a doubt the most difficult thing I have ever written in my life. My therapist suggested that sharing my story about the night of the crash – even via online communities – might help someone struggling with an experience like the one I will describe. My hands are frozen… it’s as if my fingers would rather spare you from knowing what happened. This feels like a horrible idea.
But… Does He know? He must know. He must. I’m terrified by the memory and I suppose that’s all that matters to Him. That’s what He said. Anyway, this suggestion was from my clinician, and for that reason, I’ll give it a try. I know how much Dr. Ritter cares about what happened to me. She’s been remarkably compassionate. So, here goes: this all happened last year. The night of October 24th.
By way of background, my name is Daniel. I’m seventeen and I’ve lived in Malone, New York my whole life. Malone is a village far upstate. Near the Canadian border. No reason you would know about Malone unless – like me – you were raised here. The closest cities that come to mind are Montreal and Burlington. The lame and oft-repeated refrain growing up was, “because we’re alone in Malone.”
Since childhood, Halloween has always been my favorite time of year. An occasion I’ve looked forward to even as I grew older. October is a special month generally. Especially in the northeast. There’s something about the spiced scent in the air that gives me goosebumps. As the nip of the season sets in, the drying leaves mingle with wood-burning fires and the first sip of winter’s chill.
Throw in pumpkin carvings? CVS Halloween makeup? Cinnamon vanilla lattes? Suffice to say, I’m not alone in my enjoyment of this cherished occasion. My best friend and girlfriend (Kyle and Darcy) were both on my wavelength. We’ve been getting dressed up and trick–or–treating since preschool. And so last year, being jaded seniors in the 12th grade, we decided to try something different.
We’d been hearing about a new haunted house and hayride that lay about halfway to Massena. Maybe 30 minutes away. Run by some locals who apparently had connections to the movie industry. I’m talking Hollywood. The feedback from my more discerning buddies was positive, and so we took advantage of their weekday and student discount pricing and purchased tickets.
I remember that night vividly. A colder-than-normal Thursday. The hayride was decent enough, at least for our area. We finished everything at around 11pm and bookended the adventure by scarfing down some hot chocolate and apple cider donuts. Kyle had an early appointment to meet his chemistry teacher for office hours, and so we piled into Darcy’s SUV and started on our way home.
Dr. Ritter needs to realize… this is pointless. I cannot justify typing these words because you cannot, you will not understand what I am about to describe. And it’s not your fault. How could you possibly believe me? How could you understand? I’m supposed to tell you what I saw in as much detail as I can… But why? Perhaps you too will notify me that I’m suffering from “traumatic delusions”?
Just get it over with… He already knows. Like I said: it was a Thursday. It was a Thursday and it was dark as hell. I suppose nighttime is typically dark, but there are barely any lights on the roads that connect Massena and Malone. No lights and scant traffic once the hour hand itches midnight. Especially after you get off Route 37. As usual, Darcy was driving faster than I cared for.
Ever the rebel, Darcy began abusing her beat-up-as-shit 2014 Subaru Forester. Apparently trying to set a land speed record. We used to joke that Darcy had something fucked with her adrenal glands: the girl was routinely testing her limits. I was in the passenger seat playing DJ, and Kyle was sitting behind me, trying to finish a chemistry assignment on his phone. None of us had taken drugs or alcohol.
At this point, we’re about 15 minutes from home and find ourselves on a particularly dark stretch of road. I know this spot well because the cellular service is non-existent. You’re guaranteed to drop a call. We had some so-so jam band going on the speakers when Darcy decides that she wants to play a game. And so she asks me to lower the volume:
“That wasn’t scary. The hayride? I think we need to go ask for our money back.”
“Oh?” Kyle retorted. “You seemed pretty freaked out by those nurses.” I concurred that Darcy had seemed unnerved. “Trust me. Your lady was tweaked. Think she peed herself?”
“That’s bullshit,” Darcy stiffened. “Only yipped because those jerks touched my leg. They’re not allowed to touch you.” As you can imagine, we teased her. “Fuck off… If you two morons wanna feel scared? Just gimme the word.” I asked what she meant. “Well, Danny Boy,” this was my pet name, bestowed by Darcy. Never my favorite. Darcy was forever amused by it. “I can’t say. You and Kyle have to tell me you’re in. Without knowing for sure. And then… I’ll show you both a good time.”
“Nice phrasing,” I couldn’t help myself. Behind me, Kyle faked a yawn. “I’m already bored.”
“What’s that, Danny Boy?” Darcy became heated. “You’re what?” While Darcy acted tough, she had thin skin. Like a baby deer. “You’re bored?” At that moment: Darcy smashes the gas pedal. The car starts flying along this snaking lane… I’m talking fast. Both Kyle and I are yelling that she needs to slow the fuck down. “Thought you wanted to feel scared?” Darcy’s hooting at us. “Watch this!”
Without warning – while the Subaru’s hurtling at maybe 70 miles per hour on this deserted stretch – Darcy reached down and killed the headlights. I cannot explain how utterly disoriented this made me feel. To have been looking ahead at a narrow, zigzagging road? And suddenly? Nothingness filling the windshield? Kyle and I were shrieking like maniacs at Darcy to turn the lights back on.
I’ve spent countless hours since that night trying to determine exactly how long the lights were out. For some reason, this feels important. My adrenaline had spiked. Best guess is: we were in pitch black darkness for about three or four seconds before Darcy switched the headlights on. That’s when we saw the naked body. Lying lengthwise in the middle of the road. Just a few yards ahead.
The accident itself? Total blank. Like a hole in my memory. Both the investigators and lawyers said – based on the mechanics of the crash – Darcy swerved the Forester. I have zero recollection of the car veering, hitting the guardrail, flipping, etc. The next thing I remember is the sensation of being upside down. Gravity pooling the blood in my brain. All I could see was my own heartbeat.
The first few seconds after the crash were fractured. I’ve pieced together shreds of memory that draw from muddled senses. Discomfiting warmth seeping down my forehead and face… The pungent smell of gasoline. Wet fumes stinging my nostrils. Strained humming from the engine. And everywhere: a faint white mist coiling around us… Like cigarette smoke or midnight fog.
There was something else from these primordial, post-crash memories. At this point, I’d become lucid and aware that we’d been in an accident. I recall that – out of the corner of my eye – I noticed the flash of emergency lights. There’s no way to mistake the red, white and blue blinking of a police car or ambulance. And I remember feeling extraordinarily grateful: we’d been found.
As my vision returned, it struck me how violent the crash had been. How dangerous and life-threatening our situation was. I was completely tangled in my seatbelt and shoved the deflating airbag away from my face. I began to panic. The SUV was fully upturned and the chassis was mangled. Each way I looked, I saw only warped metal, blood splatters and shards of splintered glass.
What follows is the truth of what happened that night. After the crash. It is entirely fact: I did not dream or hallucinate. I swear on my life. No one – including my own family – believed me when I told them what happened. I realized with an empty despair in the days that followed that I would be alone in this anguish of “knowing”… It feels more isolating than I could possibly hope to describe…
Kyle and Darcy were still alive. Kyle was roughed up in the back. Badly injured from the impact. Honestly? I think Kyle would’ve died regardless. The way my body was turned – caught in the seatbelt and remnants of the dash – I was stuck angled forward and couldn’t see Kyle behind me. I knew he was in pain because of the noise. Heels stamping the car door as my best friend gurgled in protest.
Darcy was upside down next to me. Inverted, she was ensnared by the curling remains of the hood that had jutted against us. Darcy was sobbing hysterically… Apologizing and crying for her parents to save us. From what I could tell? Darcy had taken a crushing blow to her lower body. I wasn’t able to check under the debris. Wouldn’t have wanted to. I remember telling Darcy that help had arrived.
“Just calm down, Darcy,” I kept repeating. “We’re going to be fine… Okay?”
“Rodger Dodger,” came the honeyed voice. “Ma’am? I’ll need to see your license and registration. No sudden movements, please. Hands where I can see them.” The person let out a slow, undulating whistle. “Kiddos have any idea? How fast you were going?”
While I’m convinced my recollection of the encounter is continuous, I readily admit that – once He arrived – there are brief intervals of no memory. Short snippets soaked in black… Maybe once every few minutes. Like a badly maintained reel of film. Absent a handful of frames. I will try and transcribe each word spoken: every impossible detail. And I promise to be honest when my memory fails.
“Been hittin’ the bottle, kiddos?” The voice sounded mildly curious. “Smoking pot?”
“N – no, sir,” I groaned in pain, bewildered by His question. “I don’t… we can’t move, sir! We’re stuck!” How was Darcy supposed to retrieve her registration? When the dash was crumpled? “Our friend’s hurt. He’s in the back. Please, sir… Please call an ambulance.”
“Ambulance?” The man went quiet. “First: you’ll tell me what’s happened here.”
“There was... there was a person!” I wheezed. “A body. Lying right on the road.”
“You saw a body on the road?” A blurry face materialized on the other side of the windshield. By some miracle, I saw it was a police officer. I recognized the dark telltale uniform and badge. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely positive that’s what you saw?” The man had pale blonde hair combed fastidiously to the side. Tousled with dirt and sweat. Like crops in blight. Below the ugly hair were His eyes. Silvery firmament flecked with russet. Boyish features that masked His true age. “Are you willing to sit for a polygraph? To authenticate the veracity of your claim?” The policeman’s flashlight needled my eyes. “I’m only kidding, Danny Boy. Only kidding.”
“Huh?” I felt lightheaded and confused. How did he know that name? “Please, sir…”
“Aw, shucks. Don’t you see, Danny Boy? That was me in the road,” the cop spoke gently. A low, breathy voice. Soothing lilts to each word that nibbled my ears. The officer chuckled. “You nutty fuckers almost clipped me, too! Dead to rights. Kiddos came within inches of interfering with official police business.” This was when I started feeling anxious… The body on the road had been motionless. Naked. What was this guy saying? “Anyways. Where there’s no harm, there’s no foul.” He hacked on the road. “Let’s see about this mess we’re in. You can call me, uh…” I gazed in disbelief as the man checked His own name tag. “Gary! That’s right. You can call me Officer Gary.” The man smiled and tipped His black, wide-brimmed hat with an exaggerated flourish.
“H – h – help us, sir!” Darcy was able to stutter. “Please… call my… my mom and dad.”
“We need an ambulance,” I cried. This was too much. “My friend’s hurt! In the back!”
“Your friend?” Officer Gary – what else to call Him? – stalked around the Subaru. Inspecting. We could hear gruff mumblings outside the Forester as His flashlight probed the interior. Pricking my eyes. “Oh, Danny Boy… Sweet Danny Boy.” Smoke was filling the space; it was getting hard to see. I couldn’t tell if He was blinding us intentionally. “We have some serious casualties in this vehicle. Your buddy here? Dude is legitimately motherfucked.”
“You need to help him!” Darcy bawled. “Call an ambulance! PLEASE! Get us out of here!”
“Jesus. I will, lady. Calm down. We have to follow protocol. From the manual. And not for nothing? I hope you know the Kelly Blue Book value of this vehicle is basically zero.”
Based on our shared looks of alarm, Darcy and I realized at the same time that something was seriously wrong with Officer Gary. This had been a major car accident; all three of us required transport to a hospital. Officer Gary’s relaxed manner? The bizarre, coarse language? My heart rate went through the roof. I remember immediately starting to feel claustrophobic, sick and nauseated.
“Ah, crap,” Officer Gary let out a warbled sigh. “Could always look at the manual. Kinda feels like cheating, though. Doesn’t it?” He grudgingly strolled to the driver’s side where I could no longer see His face. Only a pair of leather boots as they crunched over windowpane. “You’re probably right, Danny Boy.” Officer Gary stood very still before affecting the strangest accent for His next sentence. Like He was an Irish pirate. “THIS BE one HELLUVA fend-ARR bend-ARR!” Then, back to His syrupy hiss. “Didn’t mean to be silly.” The way He was speaking… Like it was all a joke! A big inconvenience. Officer Gary had no choice but to assist. “I’m gonna call it in. Fire and ambulance. Be right back, kiddos.”
“Hurry!” we cried. “There’s smoke!”
Officer Gary disappeared in the direction of the emergency lights. Leaving me and Darcy swaying upside down. Dangling helplessly in a mix of disbelief and budding apprehension. I couldn’t see the police vehicle on account of my position and – at this point – I didn’t care. My only objective was to get my friends out of the Forester. I tried in vain to locate my cell phone that had been resting on the dash.
“Darcy?” I coughed. Twisting my head as far as I could. “Darcy. Your purse… it’s right there. Can you reach your phone?” Darcy spotted the bag. Her fingers dipped inside. “I have no idea what this cop is doing. Call your parents right now. Tell them what’s happened.”
“Okay,” Darcy was a mess. “Oww… my leg!” She started crying; I implored her to act quickly. Darcy nodded and lifted the phone from her purse. The glow from the screen illuminated the pale smoke dancing between us. I asked if she could see Kyle in the back. “Yes, but… his arm… Daniel! His arm is gone!” Darcy was dialing and weeping. “W – what should we do? There’s no s – s – service!”
“HANDS!” A command from the dark. “HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!” Darcy and I froze. “DROP THE FUCKING WEAPON! ON THE GROUND!” Before either of us could reply, I caught a flash of something strike Darcy on her cheek. There was a brutal POP: a frenetic crackling sound filled the air. Darcy squealed and released the phone. She began to writhe in agony. “LEMME SEE YOUR HANDS!”
Officer Gary reappeared from beyond the gloom. Legs crouched and arms extended in a tactical combat pose. A black and yellow Taser stun gun was pointed at Darcy’s face. Horrified, I could see the glint of moonlight on the wiring that ran from the barrel to where the electrodes had burrowed in her skin. The fizzing of electricity grew louder… and louder… Darcy was convulsing like a rag doll.
“Don’t hurt her!” I recoiled in fright. “It was a phone! It was just her phone!”
“Citizen! Do not resist!” Officer Gary ignored my frantic pleas. “You are experiencing neuromuscular incapacitation!” He spoke mechanically as He approached the vehicle. Darcy shook wildly; I was convinced her neck would snap. “Civil disobedience is still disobedience!” The hum of the Taser increased as Officer Gary arrived at the Subaru. “Hold on a sec,” The pop-pop-popping cut to silence. Darcy stopped juddering and hung there. Limp. Unconscious. Officer Gary lowered the Taser and let out a strained wheeze. He sounded relieved. “It was a phone, Danny Boy. It was just her phone.”
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” I wailed.
“ME?” Officer Gary circled to the driver’s side to check on Darcy. “Well, shit, man… it’s dark as heck out here! Bitch had something in her hand. Had to utilize judicious force,” His tone was indifferent. I watched His arms trace karate chop motions in the air. “Zapped her ass good. Know what we call it? In the legal system? Justifiable. Self. Defense.”
“You could have KILLED her!”
“Hey, now. Them’s fighting words.” Officer Gary reached through the driver’s side window and plucked the electrode from Darcy’s cheek. He slapped her – much too hard – as if trying to rouse her from sleep. “Darcy? Darcy? Ya in there?” I screamed at Him to stop. He brought a skinny finger to His lips. “Shh… shhhh… Easy frequency, Danny Boy. We don’t need to worry about Darcy. And I’m not going to hurt you. No, no… No WAY would I EVER. You matter more than you can imagine!”
As Officer Gary told me this, I experienced a temporary lapse in memory. Slipped into darkness. The paramedics said later that I was without question in-and-out of shock at this point. The surgeons who treated me at Essex General reported significant blood loss. Apparently, I had suffered six shattered ribs, a broken hip, and a split femur in the crash.
“Wakey, wakey,” I came to as Officer Gary was caressing my clavicle. He had looped around to the passenger’s side. I noticed Officer Gary carried a peculiar musk: like onions, lavender and turpentine. “You must be overwhelmed.” Officer Gary wore an expression of concern. He spoke reassuringly. “But you’re gonna be okay, Danny Boy. Trust me. It’s in the manual.” I ignored Him and jerked Darcy’s arm, trying to stir her awake. “Mamacita? Out cold, amigo. Don’t worry… She’s not quite dead yet.” Officer Gary leaned into the car. I shrank as He peered around my seat. “This dude, though? Fuckin’ toasted… Whole arm lopped off! Arteries collapsed like a natural tourniquet! Only reason he’s not bled out.” Officer Gary – adorned with a self-important smirk – puffed His chest and nodded. “Mammy always said I’d make a good doctor. Great bedside manner, she said.” Officer Gary had nudged very close to me. How uneven His mottled teeth! How ashen the color of His tongue! “Wait a minute.” He paused. “There’s a whole chapter in the manual. Yes… of course! What to do! When they ain’t gonna make it!”
Officer Gary vanished with a whoop of purpose. When He was gone, I reached out and grabbed Darcy’s wrist. Tugging her towards me. Crying like a baby and pleading with Darcy to wake up. I was howling for Kyle to run away. The fear had become difficult to tolerate. I will never forget this sensation: I was convinced that we were about to die. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“Let’s see,” Office Gary took a knee outside my window. I could hear pages flipping. “Where is it?” He started humming quietly. Reading to Himself. “Yup… yup… knew that already. Not relevant. Mhm… that’s common knowledge. Aha! Here we go!” He went quiet. His eyes narrowed into slits. “Holy hotdog,” Officer Gary seemed upset. “Yikes. That’s no fun. I’m, uh… I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Danny Boy. The manual says here that – by the Universal Law of Merciful Pity and Compassionate Kindness – we’ve gotta, umm… oh, boy. He’s in pain. So we’ve gotta do your friend a solid. Ya dig what I’m saying? We’ve gotta make it easier for the poor gook.”
“Huh?” My eyes grew wide as I processed. “STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!”
Officer Gary gazed upon me with those deep-set, glistening orbs. His expression patient. Sympathetic. He told me that it was okay if I didn’t understand why this was happening… That it was perfectly reasonable if I felt lost and scared. That bit was important, He added. Officer Gary assured me that I would appreciate everything in time. Echoing footfalls as He was summoned by the fog…
I thrashed wildly. Ignoring the pain of my broken bones. Struggling to escape from my seatbelt and the dash pinning me in place. I heard the sound of a trunk open and slam shut again. Then, in my peripheral vision: an unbroken line of light. A bright green ray. It was a laser beam… Carefully feeling its way through the destroyed side of the car before settling somewhere behind my chair.
This wasn’t possible… It wasn’t! Next to me, Darcy stirred awake. I saw her eyelids flutter open. Her pupils dilated as she focused on the scene behind my seat. Darcy could see what I could not. Then, we heard the unmistakably wet sound of a WHIZ and WHUMP; Darcy let out the most bloodcurdling scream I had ever heard. It was absolutely chilling… I nearly fainted from the wretched, discordant cry.
“Goddamit!” Officer Gary bounded over, His voice pinched with frustration. “Ah, man… What happened?” He ducked to peek inside the Forester. My jaw dropped when I saw the man was wielding an enormous, camo-colored crossbow. “Aw, jeez. Sorry about that, Kyle!” I could hear distressed babbles from behind my seat. Next to me, Darcy was losing it. “That was meant to be a headshot. I had good tone!” Officer Gary spoke reflectively. Musing aloud. Darcy and I were yelling for Him to leave Kyle alone. “Huh?” He glanced over. A vacant expression. Like He was noticing us for the first time. “Must’ve been the wind. I never miss.” He raised the crossbow and winked. “I see y’all peepin’ this foxy bitch. Says a lot about your taste.” Officer Gary patted the stock. “Reverse-draw design. 17 inch power stroke. Carbon bolt porked this V-C at 450 feet per second!” He sighed and turned to Kyle. “Not good, buddy,” He whistled in a tone of insouciance. “That arrow? Sucker perforated your carotid. You’re gonna bleed out. No matter what I do.” He spoke in a perfunctory manner. Like he was delivering a lecture to a cadet that he’d given hundreds of times. “I’m sorry, Kyle. But you’ll die now. I’m going to pull the bolt out. Very carefully. And then I’m going to sit here and take a little bath.”
It’s hard to continue. Even though I couldn’t see what He was doing with Kyle in the back of the Subaru, I could hear the frenzy. While my eyes were squeezed shut, I listened to Darcy’s agonizing cries for her mom and dad. Darcy was pleading with God to save us. I kept telling myself: it’s not real. When I dared to look again, He was but a few inches away. Ugly blonde hair and rancid smile waiting.
“Oh, boy… Oh, WOW. That was wild!” Officer Gary beamed in ecstasy. “Are you kiddos ready? For the best part?” His face was soaked in gore. Drenched with streaks of crimson. It was rimming His nostrils… Matting His sideburns… Dripping down His gums. “I’ll save this for later.” Officer Gary flicked His tongue. Lapping the bloody residue on the carbon bolt. “Oh, Danny Boy… Sweet Danny Boy. Do you know the difference between terror and horror?” Darcy and I were helpless. Moaning like pigs in an abattoir. “I asked you a question.” Officer Gary’s voice had become menacing. But injuries and abject fear had taken their toll. Sapping our strength. “Are you ignoring me because of what I did? To that one-armed slope?” Officer Gary looked us up and down. Buggy pupils vibrating with paranoia. “Anyways. There’s a difference. The manual is clear. And we’ll need the balance just right for this to work.” He paused to stretch and touch His toes. “Woof… Knees creaky. What I’m trying to say is: I didn’t want you to see, Danny Boy. What I did to your friend. I wanted you to listen and wonder… This next part, though?” His grin grew wider than physically possible. He turned to Darcy. “I need you to watch this next part carefully.” Darcy’s eyes were fixed on His every breath. “My understanding, dear Darcy? This is all your fault. You’re the one that caused the crash.” Officer Gary shook His head and spoke robotically. “Excess speed. Low visibility. Slick conditions. Just watch… That’s what they’ll say when it’s all said and done.” His brow furrowed. “Now, I’m a father. And I know from raising kiddos that it’s all about the example. Gotta teach lessons they’ll never forget.”
Officer Gary excused Himself and crept into the void. Leaving me and Darcy weeping, wilted and shivering in dread. Alone… Abandoned. Kyle’s freshly-drained corpse cooling somewhere beyond my sight. The temperature had dipped below freezing; the condensation of my breath clung desperately to Darcy’s as we struggled to stay conscious. Both of us fast succumbing to the adrenaline.
In the distance: a weird commotion. Coughing and clunking. Winding and grunting. Then the whizzing of a cable as Officer Gary came skipping into view. The man was huffing with exertion. Towing a long, metallic wire equipped with a J-hook at the end. I blinked in disbelief. This was the type of winch used to help stuck vehicles out of ditches. Or to remove a stubborn tree from the earth.
“Darcy? Ya good to go? It’s time to fly, baby dragon.” Officer Gary smacked His lips as He wound the cable around Darcy’s midsection. “You and me, m’lady? You. And. ME? We’re gonna have some fun tonight… Still awake?” Darcy whimpered pitifully. Weakened hands trying to wipe Him away. “Good girl… good. You’ve been amazing, Darcy. Seriously. That’s no joke. I’m talking superstar.” He secured the J-hook with a loud, deliberate click. “And now, dear Darcy? We’re gonna give Danny Boy a sexy strip show he’ll always remember. You wanted to scare him, right? I promise: this is gonna do the trick. Oh, fuck yes, it will! Let’s give him a sight he’ll never forget!”
“No,” I croaked. Barely able to speak. “Let her go.” The blood had gone to my head for too long. I was slipping. “Please?” Officer Gary checked the winch cable. Making certain it was secure. He snorted in satisfaction. “Please d – don’t hurt her. Please, sir… Please…”
“Charlie Brown to Linus. HQ? Do you read?” Officer Gary was speaking into a walkie talkie that had appeared from nowhere. “This is Officer Gary. How copy?” There was no reply. Only the crackle of static as biting winds swirled around the wreck. “They’re never there,” He muttered. Disappointed. “But it doesn’t matter… it doesn’t. I know what to do! This part is going to be messy, Danny Boy. How ‘bout some tunes?” Officer Gary fiddled with the dial on His walkie talkie until jumbled music filled the inside of the Subaru. A distorted country song… The lyrics slow and distended. The jingle of a Christmas carol. The words perverted and strange. Then, the gentle sound of wind chimes. “Better,” Officer Gary purred. “And now, Ahriman proudly presents: The Banana Split. Please, watch carefully.”
Officer Gary bowed. He faded from sight. Nearby: a car door opened and closed. Keys jangled in the ignition. The blare of an engine. Dazzling floodlights washed over us. In this radiance, I saw the cable go tight. Darcy let out a moan from deep within… Her eyes bulged like a toad. Darcy grabbed my hand as the growling throttle increased. Ruthlessly yanking her frame against the driver’s seat.
I was squealing in guttural fear. Begging for Officer Gary to stop. But… He didn’t stop. Rather, Officer Gary revved His machine until the cable strained and shuddered. Squeezing Darcy like a vice. Her sternum began to SNAP like a dry Weetabix. Our terrible shrieks reached a fever-pitch as Darcy’s eyes went lily-white. Blood poured over her mouth; down her chin. Such meaty bursting and tearing!
Then, a new sound. The squelching of moist suction. I suddenly understood the meaning… Banana Split. I watched in unthinkable horror as the upper third of Darcy’s figure peeled back and away from the rest. Dragging her innards along for the ride. A ruptured, human-shaped rind. Exposing the juicy produce rotting inside. Guts and bones splashed everywhere.
To witness the burst of her body? I felt my mind go blank. Unable to process. A survival mechanism, I think. Darcy was dead. Yes… Darcy was ripped in half and I was hanging next to her jittering stump. The stalk of her spine. Wisps of steam rising off viscera. Looping entrails that ended in giblets. Hot chocolate. Barely-digested apple cider donuts.
“It’s done?” Officer Gary slunk back to the Subaru, wiping His brow. “It’s done!” He sounded grateful. I watched Him sit in the pool of gizzards. Waving His arms like a child in snow. Making wings. “And not a moment too soon. We’ve gotta chat about what happens from here, Danny Boy. And then we’ll sing. You won’t have to worry about me for some time.” Officer Gary removed His wide-brimmed hat, laid back in the offal and stared at the sky. “Now that’s a moon too big to be real,” Officer Gary cooed. “A tawny jewel. Across the neck of night.” He exhaled. “Don’t need to explain myself. But I don’t make the rules. And, as far as you’re concerned? There are two. Rule number one? Next year – on this date – you need to come back here. You need to come back to this exact spot. Alone. I’ll be waiting for you, Danny Boy. And I swear… It’ll be worth it,” His voice lost all mirth. “You have NO. FUCKING. IDEA. How long I’ve been waiting here? On this road? I’ve been sitting and waiting…” His eyes became wet. “Also, you have to remember. That’s rule two. You have to remember.” The stink of His whisper. It made me dizzy. “I need you to remember.” A sigh. “And if you forget? Or somehow convince yourself this wasn’t real? I’ll find you right in that moment, Danny Boy. I’ll find you. And I’ll kill you.” His tongue flitted out. “The very instant you forget? I’ll be there… You’ll see! I’ll be there, no matter WHERE you are, and I’LL EAT YOUR FUCKING GUTS. Not in the way you think, either. From the inside out.” He smiled: how the teeth had changed! How they wriggled at me! Was it a trick of the light? “I’m gonna eat you from the inside out. And I’m going to look like Darcy while I do it.”
Finally: the part I understand least of all. Officer Gary began to sing, but He didn’t sound like Himself. It was the most beautiful voice… Like a young child. Different languages and dialects… Joyful innocence. A resonant sense of belonging. The melody carried over the wind. My muscles relaxed… I felt no pain. No fear. Only boundless love for Officer Gary.
The next thing I remember? I’m strapped to a gurney in the back of an ambulance. Racing to Essex General. IVs sticking out of every appendage; an army of paramedics working to stem the bleeding. My parents and the authorities waiting when I was done with surgery. Of course, there was no trace of any “Officer Gary”. No such person existed. They spoke in hushes of “traumatic delusions.”
In the end: they called it an accident. Single vehicle collision. Excess speed, low visibility and slick conditions were judged contributing factors. A tragedy. Nothing more. But, for the record? The coroner who conducted the autopsies in Plattsburgh? Unanswered questions. The puncture in Kyle’s carotid artery? The inexplicable ligature marks that marred Darcy’s stomach and breasts?
My life for the past 10 months? A never-ending rotation of hospitals and rehab. Police stations and attorney’s offices. Ceaseless depositions. Anonymous faces melting together. They made me take a polygraph. Of course I passed. I was supposed to start college in the fall of this year. Instead, I’ll be home. Lying awake in bed. Praying for God to keep me away from His awful squirming teeth.
If you’ve somehow made it this far – all I can say is – Dr. Ritter was right. I feel relieved to have been able to share my story. And now? You know everything… The truth about that night. I still dream about Kyle and Darcy. Mostly nightmares. I miss them terribly. If anyone has any thoughts about what I’ve experienced… literally, anything to go on… I promise to listen with an open mind.
There are less than two months until the anniversary of the crash. I don’t know what to do. A part of me wants to disappear… To run away. And yet… deep down? I believe every vile word. I know exactly where I’ll need to go on October 24th. Where Officer Gary will be waiting for me. That stretch of road. No service. I’m not frightened that He’ll kill me.
What I’m scared of is worse.
Please… help me!
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2020.08.30 02:26 ConorCulture Booking Modern Day LAX - Part 3: Mundo de los Reyes
Build to Double or Nothing:
So, to answer the question of what is going to be the big dream faction war this time...there isn’t really one. The “faction” is more the best Mexican guys of AEW, since Latin American
Xclusive. This would also make more use of the AAA partnership that aside from Kenny Omega holding the Mega Championship in AAA, hasn’t really done anything. Sure, we got The Bucks vs. The Bros feuding over the AAA Tag belts, but at least I was expecting something more like the Impact/AAA partnership of people showing up from both companies on their different shows. But it hasn’t really been that with AEW and I don’t know why, but this chapter is dedicated to it. The Dynamite after is a rest week like usual for PPV aftermaths, and Eddie Kingston’s boys have moved on from Cody’s crew. Kingston will be defending his coveted championship which he’s held onto for over 200 days now (the longest reign in the titles history) in an open challenge.
Eddie Kingston is back and still has his title intact. He runs his mouth on the AEW roster before anyone has even stepped through the curtain. Then out comes his opponent, REY FÉNIX!
Fénix is fresh off his loss at Revolution to Pentagon Jr. in a Mexican Deathmatch and is hunting for redemption. He’s used to facing brawlers though, so this could be it for him. He quickly displays his strategy, out match Eddie with speed so he can’t land his fatal hits. And it works, as every time Kingston tries a move like the Sliding D or American D, Fénix is too fast and gets the counter. He gets a bit ahead of himself with the hype of the crowd though, and Eddie takes this opportunity to comeback into the fight. Eddie lands a Uranage and nails the Royal Flush, 1…..2….FÉNIX KICKS OUT!!! Fénix keeps in the fight and now its even, as Fénix is pretty banged up by the Royal Flush. They have a slapping match and then Kingston goes for what looks like a Paradigm Shift, BUT FÉNIX COUNTERS MIDAIR INTO HIS OWN SNAP DDT!!! He scales the top ropes, SHOOTING STAR PRESS METEORA!!! 1……2…..3!!!! REY FÉNIX HAS ENDED EDDIE KINGSTON’S REIGN, AND IS YOUR NEW…TNT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!!!
Eddie Kingston is now without title, and is responsible for the golden glory being over. He respects that Fénix was the better man as he’s slowly leaning more towards a babyface, but he says that if Fénix does or says any shit then to mawl him. Eddie Kingston then doesn’t wrestle for a bit after the big match and loss, but the Women’s Tag Team Championships have a match coming up. They’re defending once again against Riho and Yuka Sakazaki. The match is similar to their last affair at Full Gear, where the girls of LAX retained their titles, but now Riho and Yuka have more chemistry due to teaming together longer. They flow better with double teams now and seem to have a natural chemistry in the air, something not present in the last bout which Ivelisse and Diamanté capitalised on. One mistake though from Riho and Diamanté thinks she has it won with a Bridging German from the second rope! 1……..2……SHE KICKS OUT!!! Now it’s a frenzy of big moves due to the unknowingness of what will put the opponent away. Once again though, a Diamanté mistake near the end seals their fate. Riho rolls up after Diamanté slips up and they lose their titles. Not only do LAX only have one title in their grasp, but it was Diamanté’s fault, and Ivelisse doesn’t forgive her. She locks in a Guillotine Choke and doesn’t let go. She is pulled off by Eddie Kingston, but he’s hit with a Superkick. Ivelisse has gone rogue, and is out of The Latin American Xclusive.
LAX are slowly but surely falling down from their place as king of the hill. Kingston slipped and with him fell down Ivelisse and Diamanté. Ivelisse dropped and was lost, leaving Santana and Ortiz to keep them up while Kingston and Diamanté hold on. They’ve been holding these belts for well over 400 and nearly 500 days now, since late 2020. Meanwhile Fénix is still doing his TNT Championship defenses. And his first defense, will be against Mil Muertes. Yes, you heard me. But specifically, Mil Muertes, not Mesias or Ricky Banderas. Banderas himself has expressed interest in joining AEW, but I don’t think they should go all out with him. See he’s in his mid-40s, and his back is in bad shape, as well as his knees. But this is a great one time appearance in my opinion, and a great first match for Fénix, against his most legendary rival. Plus, this also kickstarts Catrina Perez in AEW, who last time I saw was trying to get into acting before corona. I think she’d be great at that, but being a manager in AEW is what I’d personally like to see her doing. She’s a great talker, great looking, can even go in-ring and has the ex-WWE cred. And Catrina will be important for later.
It’s big man vs. little man, but Fénix mobility as usual will be his asset. They go through some old spots like Fénix being busted open and Mil Muertes biting at his scalp, literally consuming what keeps his live in tact as to slowly wither him away. Fénix tries to tightrope the guardrail and Mil pushes him into the crowd too, like before. Fénix has a moment with his ex, Catrina, where Catrina acts like she’s ready for a second shot at it, but it’s a ruse as Mil jumps him. Fénix then wins the match after lifting himself out of a Flat Liner and hitting a Standing Shooting Star Press. He then finally lifts Mil into a Package Piledriver and retains his title. Afterwards he declares on the mic he will be the best TNT Champion of all time, and will defend-Eddie Kingston cuts him off. He hops the guardrail and stands at ringside. He then lifts his hand up, with his thumb pointing to the side. He thinks about, and then lifts it into a thumbs up. That’s when Homicide jump attacks Fénix! He hasn’t been seen since last year! Homicide batters Fénix, and takes him out with a Verterbreaker. Santana and Ortiz come out and they all hold gun signs and point them at Fénix’s head. This takes him out for next week so that he can’t defend his title. The second week after though Catrina visits the champ, and says that death is inevitable for us all. Even the man of a thousand lives, will always meet his doom. Which is why, Mil will always come back, because he is the embodiment of death itself. She then gives Fénix a peck on the lips, worrying him even more.
Fénix is back in action though for the following week where he will defend his title against the returning Homicide. Homicide attacks him during his entrance with a Cannonball Tope to kick off the match and set the tone, fast and furious. He slits his throat at Fénix and tries for the West Brooklyn Lariat, but Fénix ducks and hits a Pele Kick! He whips Homicide to the outside and hits him with a Tope Con Hilo, followed by a Corkscrew Senton! Now they’re both in the fight, and they have a sequence in ring of arm drag counters upon arm drag counters. They both do double Bicycle Kicks, and fall back, but get back up into double Bicycle Kicks again. This time they go down. They keep up the fast paced and high-flying stuff. Homicide gets a Bronx Bomber for 2 and in retaliation grabs a fork. He tries to reopen the wound he had to kayfabe get stitched up, but Fénix fights out of it. He then hits a Hurricanerana onto the fork, and a Michinoku Driver right on the spikes. Fénix then takes some big dives, including a La Garra del Fénix into the crowd, and we reach the end point. Homicide tries the Da Cop Killa (Verterbreaker) again on Fénix, what previously took him out of action, but Fénix flips out before the drop. He then lifts Homicide into a Fénix Driver, 1……2….3!!! Rey Fénix retains the championship!!
The Young Bucks after defeating one of the tag teams in LAX, want to defeat the other tag team in LAX – Santana and Ortiz. And they want to defeat them for what they still hold, the AEW World Tag Team Championships. Before they get this opportunity though, Santana and Ortiz make the challenge of a Six-man Tag Street Fight, Homicide as their third man, Jacob Fatu as theirs. They accept this request, since it’ll give them a title match if they win. Now I have a big soft spot for the over the top spotfests of PWG, and this is exactly that. Lot of flips, lot of kicks, lot of weapons, lot of holy shit. So to embrace it – get in the mood with this
to make it feel like a PWG Preview. However ridiculous these guys can get, go that far. The match starts with a triple suicide dive from LAX, followed by another but they’re hit by chairs. The Bucks bust out Superkicks galore and then they do a triple dive, with Matt and Nick on Tope Con Hilo duty while Fatu does that Spaceman Plancha. He then goes beserk with Samoan shit, like that Running Ass move they do. He does Splashes and Drops, with a couple assisted by weapons. Matt and Nick use all their famous flippy tag shit: the Crazy Dive, More Bang for Your Buck, Meltzer Driver etc. Homicide hits a Bronx Bomber off a ladder to Jacob Fatu, and then Santana and Ortiz throw the ladder at The Bucks! They try a triple cover, but The Bucks break it up with Slingshot Canadian Destroyers! Jacob Fatu then does More Bang for Your Buck with Nick, meanwhile Matt does a Death Valley Driver through a table leant on the guardrail on the outside. Fatu then does a big Splash onto all three stacked on top of each other, 1……2….3!
These guys then of course get a break until two weeks after that war, The Bucks get their match. Starts off with counters upon counters from Ortiz and Nick and then they do that same spot from their match at Full Gear, that absurd four-man crab hold on The Bucks. Santana and Ortiz do their own version of More Bang for Your Buck, but Matt gets the cut off with a Inverted Suplex on Santana. He then goes on a Superkick party, absolutely crushing Ortiz’s skull into the ring post. He does a couple high flying moves on Santana, until he comes back and hits a Death Valley Driver to the outside. He then dives out after him with a Asai Moonsault. After this point the action gets crazy. In the end, a Street Sweeper followed by a double Running Senton for the win. After this, The Bucks would manage to get themselves into a #1 Contenders Match at Double or Nothing against SCU, which we will touch open later. Around this time too, Pentagon Jr. has started to target the weak. He squashes people and breaks their arm on Dark, where he shows up every week, kind of making it his home brand since it fits the gimmick, showing up on Dynamite rarely. Excalibur calls him a spider catching a fly in his web, as he tortures the victim while it tries yet can’t escape. The week following this match though, is one of the times he shows up on Dynamite.
I said he picks apart the weak, and this isn’t just jobbers. Because this week he attacks Eddie Kingston. He then explains in a video segment afterwards that he’s sensed the cracks beginning to show in LAX, and is going to burn it down. And that starts with Eddie Kingston. The week following is a big Six-man Tag Team Match. Eddie Kingston, Santana and Ortiz vs. Aerostar, Drago and Fénix (remember what I said about AAA). Pentagon Jr. interferes near the end which allows Aerostar and Drago to duel pin Santana and Ortiz to win. This gives them a Tag Team Championship match in the future. Pentagon then beats up the entire of LAX, and challenges Eddie Kingston to a Street Fight at Double or Nothing. Week after is again another big blockbuster Six-man tag team match – this one built around one guy though. Rey Mysterio Jr. yes, Rey comes to AEW. By this point Dominick will be about a year and a half into his WWE run and I believe after Dominick has cemented a place for himself in WWE, Rey leaves. And I’m going to have him retire in AEW. The big rumor is a match with him and Fénix for Double or Nothing, made even more prevalent when this tag match is announced: Fénix, Darby Allin and Brian Cage vs. Pac, Rey Mysterio Jr. and Pentagon Jr. NUT. Meanwhile Ivelisse and Diamanté confirm their match for Double or Nothing in a contract signing, ending in a table break of course because this is wrestling.
Pac and Pentagon Jr. still have their old Death Triangle link which they feed off. In the end Rey gets the pin on Fénix, but afterwards it turns into a big mess with everyones rivals coming out. I really like when stories are weaved together in a big universe, which is the point of this moment. We’re getting very close to Double or Nothing now, and we got two big matches left. First is a TNT Championship defence, a Three-way between Fénix, El Hijo del Vikingo and Pentagon Jr. Good lucha things ensue, and Pentagon Jr. loses after Eddie Kingston distracts them. They then brawl up the ramp, ending in a big Royal Flush onto the steel. Rey Mysterio then comes out after that big brawl, and challenges Fénix to a Career vs. Title match at Double or Nothing. Fénix accepts. “King vs. King” its build as. Meanwhile, Pentagon Jr. has a match against Homicide on the go home show until the fourth ever Double or Nothing. It’s a competitive match involving two people I believe would suit each other, and of course ends with Pentagon breaking the arm of Homicide. Meanwhile, Strong Hearts of OWE (again, another dormant relationship) are put in the tag team match at Double or Nothing with AerostaDrago and current #1 Contenders, FTR, after winning a tournament over in China. This makes it a four-team ladder match. Double or Nothing: FTR defeats Aerostar and Drago, Strong Hearts and The Latin American Xclusive © in a Ladder Match to win the AEW World Tag Team Championships
The match starts with a big scramble in the middle between the 8 people, with everyone slowly falling until it’s down to two men. Aerostar and Santana both look at each other, and then look at the pile of three people each beside them, and dive out! The people who get up first then each grab ladders: Cash Wheeler, El Lindaman, Aerostar and Santana. They all swing them at each other, but due to El Lindaman’s height a ladder swings too high to hit him and he hits a Backdrop to Santana! He then spears Aerostar and starts to grapple with Cash. He is thrown into a ladder leaning in the corner, but he lands on it, then dives off with a Mad Splash to Cash! T-Hawk then gets up and comes into the ring. They double team on Cash and then climb the ladder. Drago is then awoken, who jumps up onto the support bar in between Lindaman and T-Hawk. He bangs their heads against each other, but then they hit a double headbutt to knock him off. Aerostar catches Drago so he doesn’t badly fall, and then they both push the ladder over so they fall off to the mat. Aerostar and Drago both then run the ropes and jump over Strong Hearts with Suicide Dives to FTR!
Santana and Ortiz then renter the fray. Santana superkicks T-Hawk into the corner and then hits an Inverted Cannonball! Ortiz hits a normal Cannonball and then lifts T-Hawk into a Death Valley Driver, which Santana combos with a Senton and Ortiz caps off with a Moonsault Press. Meanwhile El Lindaman kicks the ladder back into place. He doesn’t try the fight he can’t win, so he low bridges when Santana runs for him. Santana holds on by the apron though. He tries to do a double Hanging Soccer Kick, but El Lindaman ducks and Ortiz and Santana hit each other. Santana and Ortiz then fall into the waiting arms of FTR, who hit a Mindbreaker on the outside. FTR then come in. Dax climbs up while Cash keeps the coast clear. This doesn’t work well though, as Cash is taken out with a Slingshot Corkscrew Crossbody from Drago and Aerostar springboards onto the ladder. Dax jumps down before anything happens, so Aerostar dives off the ladder into both of FTR with a Reverse Tope! El Lindaman tries to get back in the fight, but Ortiz interrupts with a Slingshot Spear onto the apron! Ortiz then dives back in with a Crossbody to Drago, but Drago catches him and hits a Fallaway Moonsault Slam! Aerostar and Drago both then get up and bring out one of the other ladders from earlier that was thrown to the outside, setting them up beside each other.
T-Hawk comes in and ducks a clothesline, hitting a Superkick to Drago. He lifts Aerostar in a Fireman’s Carry, but Aerostar gets out and pushes him into a Snap Rana. T-Hawk then rolls to the apron. Drago tries to tightrope along the second rope, but Ortiz does the same, and so they both jump to the outside onto both Strong Hearts with Flying Seated Sentons. Cash and Dax then regain their footing, and hit the Goodnight Express on Aerostar! But Wheeler is hit with a Hurricanerana by Santana, who ducks a clothesline from Harwood so he runs into the ladder! Santana then hits a Pele Kick to the arm, and assists a Diving Double Foot Stomp from Ortiz onto it! Santana lifts Dax into a Fireman’s Carry to once again combo with a double foot stomp, when from the corner of their eye see Aerostar hitting a Canadian Destroyer onto El Lindaman! He then runs in and jumps off the side of the ladder, onto the back of Dax, and leaps over to the top rope where Ortiz stands to hit a Spanish Fly! HOLY SHIT!!! For the first time in the match though, everyone is down. T-Hawk comes in but is hit with a chair by Cash, who then does a Russian Leg Sweep onto the chair. He scurries up and unhooks the titles! FTR ARE THE NEW AEW WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!! LAX have now lost all their gold. Ivelisse defeats Diamanté
It’s the ladies action now second on the card between two women who know each other so well, former tag team champions: Diamanté and Ivelisse. Their first match in AEW were against each other
, and to fit the mood they even wear those same attires. Ivelisse in her red top, bottoms and boots while Diamanté wears her Latin American Xchange gear from Impact, that she wore in the first affair. The opening salvo is counters upon counters. They’ve spent 7 months together, they know what they go for and so counter it. Ivelisse is on an arm drag train when Diamanté just stops to not run into it, and instead hits a Roundhouse Kick from out of nowhere! Ivelisse responds with a Snapmare, Spinal Tap and headlock. She turns the headlock into a Dragon Sleeper, and as Diamanté struggles in that Ivelisse laughs in glee. Diamanté then slaps her and starts to tug on her hair. She then comes back with a Superkick to the back of the head and a German Suplex, 1……2….KICK OUT FROM IVELISSE!! They then pick up the pace of the action so the crowd don’t fall asleep after the last match’s action. They are both versed in the lucha libre style after all.
Near the end of the match, Ivelisse tries for the Flaming Arrow but Diamanté catches into a Death Valley Driver into the corner! Ivelisse then stands in the tree of woe an she goes up for a Double Foot Stomp, the move Ivelisse used to end nearly all their tag matches. She jumps for it and hits, 1........2.....THE LIGHTS GO OUT!! We hear grunting and someone fall. When the lights are back on, ITS CATRINA ON THE OUTSIDE!! She struts to the apron and then leans on it, eyeing at Diamanté. Ivelisse then comes from behind with a Diving Double Foot Stomp! 1.........2......3!!!! Ivelisse defeats her old rather and new rival Diamanté, with the help of her new partner - Catrina. They would then go on to defeat Yuka Sakazaki and Riho for the AEW Women’s Tag Team Championships, and continue their partnership going forward meanwhile Diamanté goes after the AEW Women’s World Championship. Catrina comes in and declares her and Ivelisse alliance, and that they will soon run the women’s division of AEW. “Every girl in the locker room, you can’t escape it - I am inevitable.” The Young Bucks defeats SCU to become AEW World Tag Team Championships #1 Contenders
SCU enter out first and everyone in attendance roar “S-C-U!” They come out with Christopher Daniels and they walk down the ramp, Daniels with a couple plasters on his face from the double thumbtack Superkick. The Young Bucks then come out and it rains Bucks Bucks as they pose. They both draw their fists at Daniels, but Nick tells him “don’t worry old man”, and rolls into the ring. They go for a double Superkick before the bell rings but Kaz and Sky duck, they both hit Superkick’s to the shins which drops the Bucks to the their knees, then they both hit Superkick’s to their faces! The bell frantically rings and we’re underway way.
Scorpio Sky goes to town on Nick Jackson with elbows, rights and lefts, stomps, everything he’s got he throws at him. In the corner he lays into him with more of this stuff and a couple shoulder barges into the midsection occasionally, before hitting a Hesitation Dropkick followed by another. He then Superkick’s Matt off the apron an hits a Tope Con Hilo into both men! Sky gets the crowd on their feet with a massive opening sequence before throwing Nick back into the ring. He goes for a big splash but Nick ducks and goes for an early roll up, 1.....2....Kick Out. Nick then begins to work over the arm of Sky. Sky rolls out of an Armhold and hits a Flying Elbow Smash followed by Standing Moonsault. 1......2....Kick Out. Nick hits a Push-off Dropkick and runs the ropes again but is caught by a Slingblade! Sky heads to the corner and lines up a Running attack but Nick hits a Jumping Youshi Tonic! He tags in Matt who slingshots over the ropes with a DDT! They both double team Sky before Rick Knox demands Nick leave the ring. Nick does so. Nick rests his foot on top turnbuckle to assist an Irish whip into the corner from Matt, but Sky hits a rope run Enziguri sending Nick to the outside. Matt runs at him but Sky throws him into the air and he flies to the outside into Nick!
Sky tags in Kaz and they hit double Suicide Dives to the outside, but they’re both caught with Superkicks! Matt hits a Suplex Toss onto the barricade to Sky but Kaz from behind hits a Diving Knee Strike off the apron! Kaz rolls into the ring and Matt follows suit. Matt runs along the apron to the top rope where he connects a Corkscrew Senton! He rolls into the other corner where he pulls himself to the top turnbuckle to hit a Diving Crossbody but Kaz catches him with a Cutter! He pulls Nick to his feet and hits a Tilt-a-Whirl Headscissors. He launches Matt into the corner and he runs for him but Nick moves and throws him into the apron. Kaz falls to the apron. Nick pulls him back up and while standing on the middle rope goes for a huge Deadlift Suplex back into the ring but he can’t quite get it. Kaz then springboards off the second rope with a Sunset Flip to Matt! 1.......2....Nick breaks it up with a Standing Shooting Star Press! Matt tags Nick in. Nick runs at Kaz but Kaz catches him by the arm. Nick still does a Handspring and connects an Arm Drag of his own with it. He goes for a running attack but Kaz dodges and Nick rolls into the corner. Kaz then hits a Feint Corner Dropkick!
Kaz hits a Springboard Leg Drop to Nick and goes to tag in Sky but Nick connects a Poisoned Rana! 1......2....Kick Out! Kaz turns around and hits a Bicycle Kick followed by Swinging Neckbreaker! He then tags in Sky. Kaz gets Nick up in a Back to the Future which Sky assists with a Front Missile Dropkick! Sky hits an Ace of Spades to Nick and heads to the apron. He goes for a Springboard attack but Nick catches with a C4! Nick tags in Matt who hits a Springboard Cutter! He hits a Superkick to Kaz on the apron who falls into waiting arms of Daniels, who pushes him back up. Matt goes for another Kick but Kaz ducks and hits a Slingshot DDT! Sky and Kaz hit SCU!!! 1........2.....KICK OUT!!! Kaz leaves the ring. Matt hits a Code Red to Sky! 1.....2....Kick Out! Both men recover. Sky leapfrogs a Matt attack and he runs under him. Matt then hits a Springboard Corkscrew Crossbody! He heads to the top ropes and lines up a flying attack, but Sky hits a Hail Mary Rana! Sky hits the TKO! 1......2....Nick breaks it up with a Slingshot Double Foot Stomp! Nick hits a Superkick and Matt hits a Canadian Destroyer! They line up the Meltzer Driver but Sky gets out and Nick flies into Matt! Sky then hits a Rope Run Crossbody!
Sky goes for a Final Answer but Nick jumps off his own brothers back with a Bicycle Kick in the air. They go for the Meltzer Driver again but this time Kaz runs in and hits Nick with a Spanish Fly off the third rope! Matt delivers the Tombstone Piledriver to Sky anyways. Nick goes for a DDT to Kaz but Sky from behind hits a Final Answer! He then hits an Ace Crusher rolled into a Dragon Sleeper! Matt fights out and throws Sky into Kaz who is on the apron. Nick grabs Kaz and gets him in an Electric Chair position on the outside. Sky is draped over the second ropes. Matt then jumps off of Sky to the outside and kicks Kaz midair! Matt lays gassed on the ramp but Nick pulls him back into the ring so he can tag him. Sky tags in Kaz and we get a battle of the hot tags. Kaz ducks a clothesline and hits a Wave of the Future! 1........2.....KICK OUT!!! Nick calls for Matt and Matt drags himself to the apron. They then hit the Indytaker! Kaz hits a Fade to Black to Nick, 1.......2......Springboard Double Foot Stomp breaks it up!!!!!! Matt lays into Kaz. He goes for a Superkick to Kaz but Kaz ducks and he hits Nick instead! Sky then runs in and goes for a Springboard Tornado DDT but he hits Kaz instead! Sky hits the Blackout DDT to Matt! 1.......2.....Nick breaks it up with a Jumping Double Foot Stomp! Nick and Matt hit More Bang for Your Buck followed by the Meltzer Driver! 1...............2...........3!!!!! The Young Bucks are new #1 Contenders! Rey Fénix defeats Rey Mysterio Jr. in a Championship vs. Career Match
Not going to spend too much time on this one like Kenny Omega/Chris Hero previously, since it doesn’t have relation to LAX (unlike the match just before which concerns the tag belts held by LAX, well previously). Again, I trust these guys to craft something absolutely amazing and one to remember. In my eyes this is the best possible opponent for who will be a now 47 year old Rey Mysterio to have his last match with. He makes a big final entrance, all the bells and whistles you can imagine. He of course wears special gear, but it’s a hybrid of colours in what is basically a best of collage. Everyone knows this is going to be Mysterio’s last match but still that doesn’t take away from the drama that a childhood hero of so many, including me at one point when I first got into wrestling, is about to fight his last fight. Rey tries the 619 one last time, but his knee gives away on the swing. Fénix then lifts him up, tells him he loves him, and ends it with a Fénix Driver. Big celebration for Rey’s last match, maybe he can take the mask off if he wants but I personally wouldn’t do it. This is both men’s biggest moment up to date, and Fénix is finally given that fuel to make him AEW World Champion soon. Pentagon Jr. defeats Eddie Kingston in a 914 Street Fight
This is the big match we’ve been building to. The finale, the endgame, the one where Eddie puts him over. 914 is the area code of Yonkers, home city for Eddie Kingston, so it applies under them rules - that there aren’t any. It starts off with Eddie and Pentagon going to town in the crowd as Pentagon jumps him with a kendo stick. They fight around there, ending when Eddie slams him through the door, and puts him through the concession stand table. They then brawl back to ringside, where the bell still hasn’t rung. Eddie calls him a motherfucker and immediately hits a Piledriver onto the outside. He then brings the weapons into the ring. He takes off his Tupac shirt to reveal his gear and he then waits for Pentagon to come back in. Pentagon does not hold back though in his comeback, immediately putting Eddie Kingston through a table.
He laughs at the weapons in the ring, because he’s got some real shit in store. He brings out - light tubes. He leaves them in the corner to tease the fans, waiting for that glass to break. Meanwhile he continues the assault on Eddie Kingston. He tries a Pentagon Driver immediately, 1.......2...KICK OUT!!! They go to the outside where Pentagon hits three Superkicks in a row. Eddie Kingston is looking pretty banged up early on. Pentagon goes for the Fear Factor onto the concrete, but Eddie Kingston counters into a Backdrop onto the stacked mats! He then hits a Death Valley Driver on them. He gets a chair and places it on Pentagon’s stomach. He goes for a Senton, but Pentagon throws the chair at him before he can hit it! Pentagon then tries a chair shot, but he hits the ring post, and is then hit with a chair-assisted Backfist to the Future!!
Back in the ring the fighting continues. Eddie Kingston tries his own Fear Factor, but Pentagon reverses into a Hurricanerana! Pentagon then throws the table at him! He sets it up and brings Eddie to the middle rope. He tries a Hurricanerana, but Eddie holds on. He drops him, but Pentagon gets back up and they fight from there. Pentagon then tries to take things to the next level when he finally tries to hit the light tube, misses, keeps it in tact. He throws it at Eddie Kingston who catches, and tries to Dropkick it, but he misses and so Kingston does a Senton onto the light tube onto Pentagon! 1......2....PENTAGON KICKS OUT!! He coughs up dust and wipes the broken glass of his gear in a great visual, as he then turns to Eddie Kingston with nothing but blood lust. He then attacks Eddie Kingston, and pulls out a rusty kitchen fork and now people are getting their scalps cut open. Pentagon does not hesitate with this procedure, as he stabs Kingston in the head until he’s leaking red stuff. He then hits a Piledriver onto the steel chair and he’s coated in Muta juice. 1.......2....KICK OUT!!!!!
Eddie Kingston comes back with a big Dropkick and a American D. He then taps Pentagon with the fork, but goes a step further. He grabs a spike and a hammer, and starts to hammer the spike into his head. Like the Sami Callihan/Pentagon Jr. match. He rips apart his mask and then spikes him on the forehead, and now they’re both bleeding. He tries to slam him onto remaining light tube dust, but he’s hit with a Backdrop onto it! Pentagon then drinks his own blood and wipes it around his face. He pulls out a table and to show Eddie Kingston he doesn’t care, puts himself through it. He then flips him two birds, and pulls out a glass sheet. Yes, they’re going to this level. He sets it up in the corner and teases the fans again by not having someone put through it. Pentagon has no patience and tries a spear, but is leapfrogged. Eddie Kingston then hits an Exploder Suplex into the opposite corner. He calls for it, to throw Pentagon through the glass. He sets him up, then runs back, and HITS A BUCKLE BOMB THROUGH THE GLASS SHEET!!!!
Eddie Kingston tries the cover, 1.......2.....KICK OUT!!! PENTAGON KEEPS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE!!! Pentagon gets out of the pile of broken glass he lays in. Wipes his hand across his blood, licks his hand, and plays a Cero Miedo on his forehead. They then both start clubbing each other with rights and lefts. Forearm, forearm, forearm on repeat. Pentagon falls back into his glass and blood puddle where he lays. Eddie Kingston meanwhile sets up a chair contraption. You know, the one with the chairs in a row so it’s like a safety blanket but literally the opposite of what that means. He makes up one of those, and places a barbed wire board on top. So Pentagon Jr’s only logical idea, IS TO DO A FUCKING FEAR FACTOR ON THE BARBED WIRE CHAIRS!!!! 1.................2..................3!!! Pentagon Jr. wins the match, and LAX begin their decline. But that is not my story to tell.
submitted by ConorCulture
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