Internet care: Chrome, Edge, Explorer, Firefox, Nokia ...

Far Away - Part 28

Credit to BlueFishcake and his original work.
Special thanks to Plague Doc, Kevin, Pizza, Newt, Compassall the other beta readers for their help editing this chapter.
Previous / Part 1 \ Next
“Motherfucker,” Riley swore to himself as a truck axle careened into the barrier he was hiding behind. He peeled himself off of the wounded Marine he had thrown himself on and sighted his rifle. “Who’s hit?”
“Please forgive the intrusion,” Echo reported, “Pod 1 is still alive.”
“Pod 2 is up,” Teach calmly stated, “Barns took that to the face, but she didn’t flatline on me. She’s not responding though.”
A black armored vehicle tore through the burning pools of hydrogen, and its occupants began to climb out.
Bow sprinted to a group of rookie Militiawomen, taking cover behind a derelict car, and set up her weapon to protect them. Then a stray laser bolt ripped through the smoke and reduced a chunk of nearby concrete barrier to molten ash.
“What do we do?” One of the Militiawomen screamed at Bow. “They’re shooting at us.”
Bow cocked her head to the side in confusion before rising out of cover and firing a long burst from her heavy laser into a dismounting merc. The strike hit and caused the water in the merc to flash boil, toppling the merc to the ground with a splat.
“Shoot back,” Bow’s modulated voice responded.
“What’s going on?” Reix demanded.
“We just got hit by mercenaries, Boss.” Riley tried to sight a target through the blue flames, but couldn’t see anyone. “Decent gear. Okay, training. I’m not sure who they are,” Riley’s HUD pinged movement of two approaching humanoids behind a container, “wait one. Gotta take care of something.”
Riley used his exo rig to boost to the top of a stack of containers and waited. Moments later a pair of mercenaries ran around the corner and began moving to the warehouse’s door. A stunning volley from his weapon caused the pair to twitch before dropping to the rain slicked ground. He dropped to the ground to detain the stunned women when he spotted a familiar black flower logo on their jackets.
“Heads up girls, we are fighting Black Thorn Securities. Same merc group that we have been dealing with back home in the Blackzone.” Riley was about to leave when he noticed one of the women had landed face down in a puddle. She was sputtering and coughing the pooled water. He knelt down and rolled the woman onto her side, not wanting to risk letting the woman drown.
In his split second distraction, he didn’t notice the third blip appear on the motion tracker.
A third Shil rounded the corner and spotted the crouching Death's Head. “Shit, DHC is here! I repeat, DHC is here!” She shouldered her rifle to shoot, but she was struck in the stomach by a series of stun bolts. She looked down and rubbed her smoldering jacket and her untouched armor underneath. She charged the much smaller commando.
“Heads up y’all, some of them are wearing armor.” He flicked his weapon off the stun setting. “Going lethal.” He began to raise his PDW when the massive armored gauntlet of the last Shil grabbed it.
“Client never mentioned you would be here, but my rate’s sure going up with a Death's Head visor on my shelf.” She yanked the weapon out of Riley’s hand and pulled him upward by his still attached weapon sling.
The merc had been fantasizing about how they would fight a commando ever since she heard about how tough they were. First, she would immobilize the commando’s rifle. Shove them to make space. Draw her knife, adopt her fighting stance, and become famous for killing a commando with a knife.
She had heard legends of Death’s Head fighting prowess, so she was befuddled when she stole the commando’s weapon and lifted her in the air like she was some tiny male. “That was much easier than I thought,” she mumbled as she looked at the dangling commando. Maybe her knife fight would be easy too?
Riley drew his sidearm on the towering woman, pressed the barrel to the base of her neck, and pulled the trigger. The woman toppled forward, as Riley boosted away from her grasp, and she landed with a splat on the ground.
“Mercenary pod down in the west yard.” Riley smashed a warehouse’s window to reenter the building. “Moving to Barns now. My readout shows her overall vitals around eighty percent, but she’s not responding to radio.”
Riley slowly angled his head around the corner to take in the situation. He could see Bow holding the south end of the warehouse with a few ragged pods of Militia. Doc had to admit the formidable woman was putting out suppressive fire like she was getting paid to not bring the ammo back.
Echo and Kalga were holding the second floor of the warehouse. For her first firefight, Kalga was holding her angles well. Echo on the other hand was enjoying disappearing behind crates and reappearing in the building’s rafters to take a few shots from an incomprehensible angle, and then disappearing into the shadows again.
He sighted his marksman rifle and picked off two more mercs as they tried to move between cover. He began to aim for a third target when he felt the galloping vibrations of a large figure approaching.
Sparks trotted to the wall, and asked, “Doc, please tell me if you have been speaking with Barns, please?” Sparks grabbed Riley and threw him behind her shield as the autocannons on a mercenary vehicle began tearing chunks out of the warehouse. Molten sprays of metal sizzled on the ground as they cooled in the rainwater.
“I was planning on making my run across, but that fucking cannon is making that difficult!” Riley aimed his rifle through a hole that had been melted in the building and shot at the cannon. The bolts connected, but the cannon was designed to handle the heat from its own laser weapon, and it barely glowed from the hits. He shook his head as he ducked before the gunner noticed him. “I’m fast, but, even I’m not fast enough to outrun a turret like that.” He slapped his armor. “Plus my armor isn’t rated as full Death's Head quality. It won’t be able to take that many shots.”
Another battery of laser fire filled the compound, leaving jets of steam from the flash boiled rain in their wake.
“That vehicle is also pinning our ladies down. We will need to destroy it soon, or our allies will begin taking casualties.” Sparks handed Riley a fresh pack of magazines from her saddle bags.
“Then we need concentrated fire to burn through. Maybe we can get in close, take out the tires, then maybe,” Riley was interrupted when he noticed the suit integrity and vital averages of Barns begin being whittled down. “Fuck! Barns needs help, NOW!” Riley angled another burst of shots at the vehicle. He managed to begin melting the windshield, but not enough to compromise the vehicle’s integrity. “Dammit,” he mumbled.
Sparks took a can of fast drying liquid flexi-fiber and sprayed the front of her shield. The spray was commonly used in the field to repair torn suits. While it was not as structurally sound as having your suit properly repaired, it did seal a suit so it could be used in vacuum or reinforced in case you were about to take a large amount of laser fire.
“Very well, little one, I will charge the vehicle and you move behind me. I will distract the gunner and, if you would please, go assist Barns.”
“Sparks, you are going to be head to head with an anti vehicle cannon. The only thing we have big enough to take it on is my rifle with some work or Barns’ grenades. Arttamine run faster than I can, so unless I am going to…” Riley stopped midspeech.
A calmness entered Riley’s mind, along with a sullen realization, and that manic glee that humans are known for. Like the building anticipation created on the lift hill of a roller coaster, and the moment of weightlessness before the drop. He was at peace with his poor decision.
“Sparks.” Riley’s voice was calm, but the fey-like cadence of it worried Sparks about what the diminutive man was planning. “I have an idea. It’s stupid, it’s reckless, and it will probably work. Barns needs us now, we need to move, and I need your help to pull this off.” Riley checked his pistols and rifle. “Are you in?”
Spark’s voice shuddered in a disappointing sigh. “Very well. Please tell me what you have in mind.”
Riley cackled with glee. “When I give the signal, you charge the truck and I will take out the driver and the gunner in the passenger seat.” Riley held out his arm for a forearm bump. “We good?”
Sparks’ watched as the turret turned the stone dividers protecting panicking Militia into a molten puddle. “I accept.”
“He he he he,” Riley giggled as he got into the position. “If we pull this off, you are going to make my girlfriend very wet.”
Riley ducked Sparks’ moose like antlers as she turned to face him. Even though the Death's Head voice filter, Riley could hear her innocently ask, “What?”
Peli flinched as another stray laser bolt hit her windshield. She looked to her fellow mercenary in the gunner seat next to her. The gunner pressed the trigger again and the air in front of the truck screamed as another lance of fire cut a container in two.
“Energy reserves are still good,” Peli said as the digital gauge moved. “Keep an eye on the Rakiri looking Deadie with the heavy weapon. That bitch has been holding down the entire south flank damn near by herself.”
The capacitors began charging after the gunner fired another beam at a fleeing Marine. “I am more worried about that Deadie we hit with the bomb. I think she might still be alive.”
“Just keep firing. The client didn’t say anything about Death’s Head being here but we will eventually pick them off anyways. And keep an eye out for the prisoners. The contract was to destroy evidence and kill the smugglers so they can’t be interrogated.” Peli took a swig from her flask. “Just be thankful their shuttles don’t have cannons of their own, and they can’t order bombardments in a city.”
The gunner sighted a Bubby dragging a wounded Marine into cover, and prepared to fire. It was clear by the leader’s movements she was one of the few combat veterans they had on the field. “See you later, Bitch.” The gunner began to depress the trigger when a large figure left the warehouse at full sprint.
Standing at nine foot tall {274cm}, with four legs, and a pair of massive antlers, it obvious the figure was an Arttamine. Hitting such a large target wouldn’t be a problem. The shield covering her body, however, posed a problem. The gunner switched to the charging commando and fired. The shot hit the shield to no effect. The second shot had similar results. The third shot began to burn away the shield’s armor, as a bundle of fiber fell from it.
“What the fuck is going on?” The gunner charged for another shot. “Fucker is coming right for us!” She was about to fire when she caught movement between the Arttamine ’s antlers as a smaller commando, riding on the Arttamine ’s back, leveled a large rifle at the windshield and started firing.
The glass glowed, then warped, before the thermal shock of the laser and the cold rain finally caused the window to crack.
“Shit!” Peli yelled. “Get the cannon up! Get that cannon up!” She ducked as the last shot of the smaller commando’s marksmen rifle caused the sagging windshield to finally bow in and start to collapse. “She’s out!” She pointed to Riley. “Shoot them! Shoot them!”
Out of ammunition in his rifle, Riley flipped his PDW to fully automatic and poured fire into the truck. Tires squealed on the wet stone as the driver slammed the truck forward and started to charge into Sparks.
The PDW empty, Riley resorted to the faster option by switching to his pistol. The first shot from Riley’s pistol hit the windshield, but the last of the glass pane held. The truck’s cannon charged as more shots hit the windshield. Another pistol shot and the barrier faltered ever more slightly.
Go for broke. Fuck it.”
Riley drew his backup pistol, activated Elinee’s Deadeye, and pinned the triggers. It was a race between the cannons charging capacitors and the flurry of pistol shots. The cannon whined as it began to fire. Suddenly a burning glob of molten windshield hit the gunner’s cheek. Her hand jerked away from the controls to instinctually grab her face instead. The cannon’s final shot went wide as Riley’s pistol barrage finally broke through the windshield.
“Ahh!” The gunner convulsed as the first shot hit her. A moment later she was slumped in the vehicle's seat as the dual wielding commando emptied the last of his magazines into her.
“Goddess dammit!” Peli tried to escape, but an armored hand punched through the remnants of the windshield and dragged her through it. “Get off me!” Peli’s air was pushed from her lungs as she was slammed into the ground. In a final desperate attempt to escape, she drew her pistol and rolled onto her back.
Framed against the rainy cityscape, Peli saw the Arttamine rear onto her hind legs, and a commando riding on her back with a single middle finger raised. The last thing that went through Peli’s mind was that the Arttamine was going to stomp her front leg down onto Peli. The last thing to go through Peli’s head was the hoof.
“Please go to Barns.” Sparks angled herself to let Riley slide from her back. “I will make sure the turret is disabled so it can’t be reused.” The roar of another engine and then the crunch of metal announced the arrival of another armed transport. “Go. I will deal with this one.”
Riley began to respond, but before he could, Sparks angled her shield and charged the newly arrived vehicles.
“Sparks! Wait! That fucking thing weighs too much for you to -“
Riley watched as Sparks wedged her shield under the truck's front tire and held her ground as the truck began to crawl its way over her. Sparks’ body shook with the exertion as she grabbed the truck and pushed upwards, using the truck's momentum to flip the vehicle onto its side.
“Fuck’n lesson learned then.” Riley gave his head a single approving nod. “You got this.”
He pinged Barns’ current position on his HUD, activated his exo rig, and boosted his way towards her.
Barns tried to pull her leg free from the twisted wreckage of the truck. The metal groaned as she did, but didn’t budge. The blue flames were close, but she was from a long dead hellworld, the heat was nothing more than comforting to her. A laser blast sent fragments of stone skittering across her body.
“Al’righty ya cunts! Time ta find out then!” Barns slapped her last magazine into the rifle she had taken from the dead mercenary next to her. Another unfortunate merc leaned around the corner to finally kill the stricken Harridin, but a shot to the throat sent the woman toppling into the ever increasing pile of dead mercenaries.
“Come on, ya bitch tits! Fucking test me!” She released the arming spoon of her last grenade and cooked its timer until the last moment before throwing it. To her satisfaction, she got to hear the crunch of the Rakiri’s snout breaking from the direct impact a split second before the grenade exploded.
The last of her ammunition ran dry with the death of a Nilet’en merc. As a final act of defiance, she threw the empty rifle at the mercenary captain that rounded the corner at her. Barns roared as she drew her knife from its sheath.
“You’ve killed a lot of my girls.” The captain walked the pile of the dead to reach her. “We would have never taken the contract if that Interior bitch told us we were fighting commandos. The size of the offering price makes sense now. I should thank you at least,” she nudged one of the dead mercs with her foot, “it lowers my overhead considerably - FUCK!” The captain grabbed the knife Barns had thrown into her. “You threw that into my tit, you bitch!”
Barns picked up a rock and threw that as well.
“Fine then, no monologue.” The captain drew her pistol and aimed it at Barns, taking care to dodge the constant barrage of bits of metal and rocks being thrown by the trapped Harridan. “Go back to the hellworld you came from.”
“Ahem.” The strained cough came from behind the captain. She turned around to see Teach dislodge the fuel truck’s passenger door from where the explosion had lodged it in a container. Before the captain could react, Teach swung the door downwards on their captain’s head. The glass shattered and the frame pinned the captain's arms to her side and trapped her torso in the door’s vacant window.
The captain futilely tried to free herself as Teach gripped the woman by her throat and lifted her off the ground. As the captain thrashed, Teach stepped toward the end of the wharf, tightened her grip, and looked down at the water twenty feet {6 meters} Teach cocked the woman upwards and then chokeslammed the woman into the water.
As the captain left the commando’s grip, a voice of one of the Deepminder’s own came from Teach’s mask. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
Teach watched as the screaming captain crashed into the water and began to sink. Teach was brought back to the present when a stone bounced off her helmet and followed the mercenary down into the deep.
“And that one for the road, ya cunt!”
“Doc, Barns is clear. You’re up.” Teach moved to cover Riley while he worked.
Riley ran to Barns and got to work.
“Right, let me take a look.” His HUD showed her suit detected no bleeding, but he put on a fresh pair of gloves and gave her a check regardless.
“Oi, give me a gun!”
“No,” Riley finished checking her legs and moved to her arms, “no weapons until I make sure you don’t have something fucked in the head. Can’t risk you having a concussion and shooting me.” He pointed to her high heeled boots she was wearing. “The fuck are you wearing those for?”
“They're my feet you silly minky,” she responded.
Riley looked up from his scanner. “Where the fuck are your bones?”
“Doc, Reix said you get medical certifications on all your squadron members. I’m guessing you don’t for Harridin yet, so here is the quick rundown. Their feet naturally look like that. They have pseudo exoskeletons. And before you ask, no she is not wearing a polished leather skin tight onesie, that is her actual skin,” Teach said while casually dropping another four mercenaries.
“Hmm,” Riley grunted. “Alien physiology is fucking weird as shit.” He began to follow Imperial Standard First Aid instead. “I hate to admit it, but I fucking love it.”
Satisfied there were no open wounds, Riley began checking for broken bones when a tower of crates on the south side of the yard collapsed.
“Bloody Flames!” Barns grabbed a stick and tried to drag a gun toward her. “Wha’was that?”
“Sorry,” a sheepish Bow said, “I might be getting carried away with the suppression fire.”
“Bitch, how many goddamn rounds have you fired?” Riley asked.
“I don’t know. I am on drum eight. So I guess -“
“Bow you ignorant slut!” Riley retorted. “Those things have, like, three hundred seventy some rounds! Fuck you mean you fired two thousand rounds already!”
“You little fucker, I was told ‘weapons free’ and I am going to free every weapon I have!” Another stack of containers dropped from Bow’s fire cutting through the smuggler’s cover.
“You know she is a warrant officer, right? And you still talk to her like that?” Teach rhetorically asked Riley.
“You know 118 doesn’t really care about rank in the field,” he nodded toward her, “right?”
“You are a quick learner.” Teach let off another burst at an approaching pod.
“I’ve been in the business for five years, Teach.” Riley finished with what superfluous wounds he could bandage. “Been in since I was fifteen before that. I know how the game works.” He handed Barns her grenade launcher back. “Alright, take it easy for now, Barns. Teach give me a hand getting this junk off her.”
Teach and Riley lifted the warped metal off the trapped Harridin woman. Barns rolled to her feet and slapped another belt of grenades into her launcher.
“Ah it's go time, baby!” She racked the charging handle. “It’s got time, BAY-BEE!”
“No,” Teach said with a tired voice. “We are falling back to reform the perimeter around the landing pad to get ready for extraction. We have wounded and prisoners that need to be evacuated. Rivet’s been fighting off about five different hackers, and needs more time to secure the data we are after.”
The commandos turned to fallback when they saw a figure climb out of the harbor’s water. The mercenary captain let out a tired growl as she reached for a discarded weapon.
“I am going to fucking kill you.” She looked up to see the commandos had already closed the distance to her. She tried to press the trigger when the same Shil’vati that had hit her with the door punched her in the gut. She gasped for air as the shorter medic ran by and sprayed a can of all too familiar Grinshaw spray into her eyes and mouth. As she reeled back in pain, she heard her would be victim approach. The freed Harridin’s voice was modulated as she simply said, “Hold this,” before swinging a heavy beam of metal into her chest.
Offblanaced already, the captain screamed, “Not again!” The commandos gave a mocking cheer and the captain fell back into the freezing water.
A moment later they arrived at their new defensive position. Reix, Bow, Sparks, and Pod 1 were already in position.
The celebration was short-lived when one of the shuttle pilots reported, “Heavy IFV is coming! It will be on you in thirty seconds!”
Reix checked the status of the evacuation. “Rivet, call for fire. Bypass the no bombardment zone.”
Rivet returned from her radio. “Navy just denied orbital support. They won’t fire inside city limits.”
“I can personally confirm that’s bullshit!” Riley roared.
Rivet moved to a better position. “The Navy won’t launch interceptors either, but Patrol is scrambling pilots.
“Woo!” Kalga excitedly yelped.
“ETA ten minutes,” Rivet retorted.
“Not woo,” Kalga mumbled, “that’s, uhhh, that's not woo at all.”
“I’ll just slag’er with my ‘nades,” Barns called out.
“Armor that thick, we need heavy weapons, an exo, or,” Teach turned to Reix, “my old Ken’ador tank, but no the Imperium had to get rid of those because they weren’t viable anymore!”
“Teach,” Bow looked in disbelief, “we got rid of those a LONG time ago!”
“What? We only got rid of those around five years ago,” Teach responded nonchalantly.
“Yeah, no,” Riley responded. “Those have been gone for either decades or centuries.”
Teach lowered her rifle and tilted her head to the side, “Wait, how long ago.” She readied her rifle again. “By Khali, I’m getting old,” she grumbled to herself.
“Ladies! Back to the problem at hand,” Reix stated. “We have heavy armor coming in soon, we need an idea to take it out to buy time for the shuttles to finish evacing.”
“I humble myself for the intrusion but the shuttles have vacated from our absconded waterfront property until we evict the IFV.”
“So we concentrate fire, pick it apart piecemeal.” Riley caught sight of the transport approaching. “We win, or the wounded die.”
Everyone settled into their positions and waited for the IFV to arrive. Ten seconds of silence remained until the waterfront turned into Armageddon.
“The IFV is made of metal, right?”
The squadron looked at Kalga with amusement.
“Yes, Corporal,” Teach sighed, “IFVs are made of metal.”
“Well then,” Kalga gently kicked the control box for the magnetic crane, “would this work?”
The group stood in silence for a minute.
“Nugget, I have heard you run your team weird, but this is really dumb,” Teach said over a private channel.
Seeing no objections, Reix moved to begin directing her team. “Rivet, go with Kalga and help her with the controls. Echo, get up high and harass them. Hit it and quit it. Bow, stay here and unload everything you have at everything not on our team. Teach and Barns, hold this line with Bow. Sparks, use your shield to hold them at the choke point near the water. Doc, tend to the wounded. The mercs killed most of our prisoners, so keep the last of them alive. I am leaving you in charge off all the remaining forces behind us.”
The squadron acknowledged their orders and dispersed.
The sound of laser fire ripped into the night as Riley sprinted behind the barricade the Marines had set up. The white burns on their armor indicated most had been hit by lasers at some point, but only a few were truly wounded.
He approached a wounded Militia that Bubby had pulled into cover, and began triaging.
“Stop taking potshots at the enemy,” Bubby barked at the greener recruits, “if you hit one of the commandos, they are going to come back here and beat you into a pulp.” She shuddered when she realized the medic Death's Head was kneeling beside her.
“It’s good advice,” Riley said as he applied burn foam to a Marine’s ankle, “and shore up your left flank. You can get an overwatch going.” Riley noticed the scared Marine from earlier that night. “How are you doing?”
“First firefight,” she said, “I’m doing my best.” She ducked as a line of lasers splattered against the wall above their heads. “How are you so calm?”
Riley moved on to one of the injured smugglers. The woman had a sucking chest wound, he could see the tear in her lung through the gash in her side. He was good, but even if she had his undivided attention she was too far gone. He moved to the next patient.
”Sorry, Kid. I’m sorry.”
“Years of being desensitized to being shot at,” Riley responded to the rookie. “It’s your first shootout, you shit yourself yet?”
“No.” The girl’s voice was both embarrassed and amused.
“Then you’re doing better than I did in my first one.” Riley placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and went back to work.
A series of laser cracks and pops of smoke grenades interrupted the conversation from the squadron’s position. A metallic whine emanated from the cargo crane as Kalga’s plan was put into motion.
“Come on, Rookie!” Bubby roared in a practiced voice. “Let’s show the overpaid, over geared, primo uomos what us regular Marines can DO! Now move move move move move!”
Riley nodded in approval. “Give’em Hell, Gunney.”
A metallic crash reverberated from the crane as its operator accidentally knocked over a tower of containers with the magnetic plate.
“That was on me,” Rivet responded, “the down arrow means it moves left.”
Bubby looked from the crash site of the containers back to Riley, and finally her pod mates. “Seriously, neither of you notice?” She asked incredulously before running to her position.
“Now!” Reix roared. “Drop it!”
A loud low whine was heard as the crane’s cable rapidly unspooled and the electromagnet fell towards the IFV below. A clunk reverberated as it dented the side of the vehicle, but didn’t attach.
“Shit!” Kalga squeaked. “I thought that might slow it down!”
“It did!” Yelled back Teach. “The impact blew out the suspension on the right side! Now we just need to figure out how to kill it.”
Bow focused her fire and emptied a full drum of shots into the skits protecting the wheels. One by one the now exposed rubber tires ballooned and then popped. “It’s not moving now. We just need to figure out how to disable the gun!”
The vehicle rolled to a stop and fired a lance of energy through the wreck of a pallet lifting exo Reix was taking cover behind. Rain continued to lash the enflamed warehouse and the smoke and steam shrouded the final mercenary reinforcements. The new arrival’s fire was considerably more accurate and their movements rehearsed. From Echo’s perch high above, it appeared Black Thorn had held their best troops back for the final assault.
Echo sighted another mercenary from her position on the scaffolding of the crane. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I see additional condottieri approaching. If I may impose, we are required to remove the IFV from our concern immediately.”
Reix looked to her Nilet’en hiding above, then she began to formulate her new plan.
“Fuck it,” Reix mumbled. “Everyone! Aim at the crane supports! We’re going to drop it on that cunt!” In unison, her squadron turned and fired at the crane’s weak points Rivet began marking.
Reix felt pride in her team. While this tactic was, quite frankly dumb, Division 118 was specialized in ‘asymmetrical and dislogical standards of combat’. In laywoman’s terms, Division 118 was notorious for not just thinking outside the box, but inciting plans that most commanders didn’t even know were an option.
The crane creaked, groaned, and then finally began to topple under the combined fire of the squadron. The IFV fired again, this time aiming at Kalga and Rivet. Sparks stepped into the shot and braced her shield, the last of her shield melted and burned away but her charges were safe.
With a final screech of metal, the purple crane cut through the rain and smashed into the top of the IFV. Echo activated her exo rig and boosted away at the last second, taking her final moments on the falling crane to pick off a mercenary attempting to escape the soon to be crushed IFV.
“Anti air is down,” reported Reix, “pilots get down here. Prioritize the wounded, then the prisoners.”
“That was interesting,” a shuttle pilot reported, “we’re seeing mercs still in the area, but they are breaking off. Hold your perimeter and we will have you all free and clear shortly.”
The blinking navigation lights of a militia shuttle descended through the cloud cover and lowered onto the last landing pad. Riley sighed with relief that his patients would be gone from the battle soon. He finished applying a tourniquet to an injured smuggler and took in the status of the casualties collection point. Multiple wounded, some critical, but no dead military.
His grunts would be making it home tonight. In his mind, it was a good raid.
Minutes later Riley watched the last of the troops enter into the back of the shuttle. Bubby and a few of her troops held the perimeter as the squadron secured what little physical evidence Rivet was able to secure before the mercs attacked. Barns was still complaining she didn’t get to do anything ‘cool’ all mission.
“So someone with Interior training hit us mid-op?” Reix reviewed her notes with Rivet.
“Yeah,” Rivet agreed. “Can’t help but notice that the Interior agent that had contracted these smugglers has a vested interest in killing witnesses and destroying evidence.”
“Agreed” Reix nodded as she spotted a pair of Militia women carrying a wounded woman to them.
“I said get the fucking wounded first!” Riley ran towards them. “Fuck it, load her up. Judging by her jacket, she might be a civie.”
“This is why I don’t like running with Militia.” Bow nodded to the ragged woman. “Unreliable and can’t even handle holding the outer perimeter.”
Riley followed the woman into the shuttle and began checking for wounds. No bleeds but there were minor burns and smoke inhalation. Clean the wounds, burn gel, bandages, and oxygen. She should be fine.
“We found her by the gate,” one of the two Militia said. She nodded to the abandoned buildings that had been starting to catch fire from the exploded hydrogen. “The fire department is on the way and should be here soon.”
“Good.” Riley nodded.
The last shuttle lifted into the air and circled the battlefield. The warehouse was drooping from the holes burned through it, the fire appeared to have ignited whatever chemicals were used in the yard on fire, and the wrecked crane lay in triumph to equal parts ingenuity and stupidity.
“Tmm,” the wounded woman mumbled next to Riley.
Riley grabbed a bottle of water for the woman. “Ma’am my name is Doc. You are safe. You are being brought to The Forge for medical assistance. You will be fine.”
“Umm-e,” she mumbled again.
“What was that, Ma’am?” Riley asked. He looked to the two troopers that brought her in. “What is she saying? Was she with anyone?”
The shuttle finished its final lap and began returning to the airfield.
The woman weakly struggled and pointed to the back of the shuttle. “Toomee.” A tear cleaned a streak through the soot on her face.
Adrenaline surged in Riley as he moved to the back of the ramp. He looked, but he couldn’t see anything moving below.
“You girls know what a ‘two me’ is?” He asked his squad.
Despite the roar of the flames below, the metal tings of the rain on the shuttle above, and the din of the voices inside the shuttle itself, the thin petrified voice reached the occupants of the leaving shuttle.
Riley, Bow, and Reix looked down into the raging hell storm below. There, trapped in a partially collapsed office, surrounded by encroaching flames, was a small Shil’vati boy. He was pressed up to the corner of the wall, holding a small toy as a shield from the flames. He screamed again, “Mama!”
“What do we do!”
“Leave him, he’s dead already!”
“We need to go back for the little one!”
“There’s nowhere to land!”
With a frenzied look in his eyes, Riley turned to Reix. His voice broke as he yelled, “BOSS!”
Without hesitation, she yelled back, “Go!”
Riley sprinted to the front of the shuttle, activated his rig, and thundered towards the open ramp. At the precipice of the ramp, he dove forward, extended his arms, and activated the boosters to control his descent. Rainwater dispersed from him in two grand arches from the boosters on his shoulders as he flew down to the child.
Previous / Part 1 \ Next
Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. Feel free to leave a comment, I love listening to theories and feedback, and I enjoy the discussions that always come up. Thank you again for reading, and please have a pleasant week.
submitted by RobotStatic to Sexyspacebabes [link] [comments]

F*** you, I'm an Axe! 21

First Previous
Royal Road

Today's theme: Pet Sematary.

21. The Honeydew Meadow Massacre V: A New Dawn.

“You dirty Bubblebellys always lookin down y’noses at us,” Horace said in the gloom of the darkening barn. “Always look’ at us Baddieburrs like we’s nothing. Like we ain’t fit for being ‘round civilized folks. You was never neighborly! You treated us like trash the wind swept inna' yer yard! But we AIN’T trash! WE AIN’T TRASH! An’ you got no right t’do what you did?”
“Ohhhh?” asked Billy Bubblebelly. Although the mouse hung by his wrists from the rafters of his barn, shirtless and whipped, with a slowly growing pool of blood beneath his dangling feet, he seemed perfectly at ease. As though he were in complete control of the situation.
His calm demeanor infuriated Horace.
“Say it! Say what you done, Bubblebelly! Say what you done, gum-dangit! CONFESS!”
“Okay,” Billy said amicably. “I confess. I killed your boy. I killed Scooter.”
“You admit it!” shouted Horace. “You admit it—
“I do,” Billy continued. “I do admit it. I found him in the dark of the woods, pining away o’er that hussy he’d been set to marry. Saw him shedding tears and bawling his sweet little heart out. And it was a sweet heart, Horace, it was! Know how I know? Because when I was done peeling away at him, when I had slaked my lust for his screams, when he had not the breath remaining to so much as gurgle a final plea for mercy, I dug that beating heart out of his chest an’ I ate it beneath the light of the moon!”
“You…you…,” Horace whispered.
“Horace, it was delicious! You Baddieburr bug-slurpers got some flavor on you, boy! AHAHAHAHA!”
Horace began whipping him again, his blows made frenzied by the mockery in Billy’s laughter. “Why you done it, why you done it, WHY YOU DONE IT?” he screeched madly.
That was when Billy stopped laughing.
“You dare ask me why? Horace Baddieburr, you DARE ask me why?”
Horace trembled at the sight of that red-eyed gaze. Scotty looked at his father in confusion.
“Daddy, what’s he mean? What’s this crazy mouse talking about?”
“Yesssss, Scotty. That’s good, that’s good! Ask him! Ask him what he done to my wife an’ my oldest girl!” Encouraged Billy.
“What? Daddy? Daddy, what does he mean?”
“Scooter had nothing to do with this!” Horace shouted.
“All who share your blood, share your guilt!” smiled the crazed Billy Bubblebelly. “None of you shall be spared! Why, to even so much as love a Baddieburr is a betrayal of what’s right! Why’d you think I had to take my blade to poor Miss Lydia? Because she was irrevocably tainted by the affection she shared with your bastard boy! It was Treachery!"
“Daddy, what did you doooo?” moaned poor Scotty.
“He killed my wife an’ he killed my child, an’ he hid behind the law because he was too much of a coward to stand up and ‘fess to what he done, Scotty. That’s why Lydia an’ your brother died. That’s why you an’ him are gonna’ die too. ‘Cause it’s justice.”
“He hid behind the law?” Scotty asked.
“Oink-oink,” snickered Patrolman Pig, as he entered the barn, dragging Lucy along with him, who he promptly threw to the floor. “Horace, why are you dragging this out? Kill this crazy thing and let’s be gone from here. That fire will soon draw attention.”
“NO! He ain’t begged for mercy yet!” Horace seethed.
“Horace, does it look like this nutbar is gonna’ be apologizing anytime soon? Git some sense into yer head! You wanted to know why he killed yer boy, now you know. Finish him off so we can be done with this!”
“I said no, Piggy! We do this my way! T’was my son he stole from me, so I’m the one who says what goes! And this mad mouse is gonna’ BEG for my mercy!”
“Dog-DAMNIT, Horace, you always got to be in charge, don’t ya?” sighed Patrolman Pig. “Always tryin’ to put yourself up over everyone. That’s why no one can stand ya! Not even yer own kin! No wonder Missus Bubblebelly laughed so hard at you when you propositioned her.”
“Piggy, SHUT your mouth!” warned Horace.
“Billy deserves t’know! Even Lucy here deserves t'know! That’s why your mama had to die, Sweetie,” Pig said to Lucy.
“Horace here got day-drunk like his loser ass has a habit o' doin’ and went walking along outside. Up by the creek, he saw your pretty mama playin’ with your sister, and had him an urge to do somethin’ naughty! But when he invited her to partake of himself, she laughed at him like the old, dirty fool he was!”
“I said SHUT UP, Pig!” Horace said in a louder, angrier voice.
“Horace’s pride wouldn’t let him take that laughter, no sir! So, he grabbed your mama an ‘drowned her in the waters of that creek! Them same waters you like to play in, Little Lucy! And when your sister tried to run away, he chased her down and did the same thing to her!”
Patrolman Pig shook his head sadly at the foolishness of it all. “Now, technically, I didn’t do nothing, except cover it up. Me and Horace go back a'ways, after all. I couldn’t let my old friend go to the kennel over some mouse hoor an’ her spawn. So, I reported it as an accident, and I made sure that story stuck.”
“No, no, no, no!” said Lucy, as she wildly shook her head. “This can’t be so! It can’t! All of you are…are… murders...”
“Ah, hell, mouse girl. Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing! This is just the way the grownup world works…not that you’ll ever experience it yerself!” chuckled the pig.
Patrolman Pig turned his head back to Horace and said, “I’ll take care of this one, an’ you finish off her daddy.”
“Not until I say, damn it! You’re not in charge here, piggy! You’re not in charge here—
The roar of a discharged stinger shot rang throughout the air, and a hole opened in Horace’s throat. Horace clamped a paw over this new wound, then raised it to stare in puzzlement at his now crimson-stained palm. When his gaze turned to Patrolman Pig, his expression was one of immense surprise.
“Hrghgrghrghr?” he asked before falling flat on his back, dead.
"DAAAAAAAAAAAADDY!" shrieked Scotty, who ran to embrace his suddenly desceased father.
“I was git’n sick of you bossin’ me around, anyway, badger,” the pig said with a sneer.
“HE WASN’T YOURS TO TAKE,” roared Billy Bubblebelly. “Filthy pig, he was mine, he was mine, HE WAS MINE—”
Three more shots rang out and tore through Billy’s body. He jerked and spasmed as each awful impact tore away at his flesh. Then he too hung still, now quite dead.
“No, that was yours to take, you dumb bastard!” hissed Patrolman Pig. “Oh, I’m good and tire’d of people blabbing they mouths and tellin’ me what do to! Next fool runs their gums, they get a stinger in the face, you hear me? GOLL-EE. All this damn drama! All this doggone DRAMA!”
“If you didn’t want to see dramatic things, you should never have joined the force,” barked an angry voice from behind him.
“C-chief? Chief is that you?” asked the Pig.
“Drop that Bee-bee gun, Patrolman. Drop it or I’ll bury you like a bone in the backyard!” commanded Detective Dachshund.
“Chief, Chief, you don’t understand. Ya got it all wrong!”
“My nose doesn’t get much wrong, Pig. We Dachshunds are hunting dogs. I smelled your stink all over poor Carrot’s body. Your friends in high places ain’t getting you out of this one, Curly Sue.”
“Chief, I said you got it wrong!”
“A cop killer like you is going to have a ruuuuf time in the Kennel; but it won’t stop there, murderer! I’ll see to it that one day they’ll put you to sleep, like the bad, bad piggy you are!”
“I ain’t going to no kennel! Ain’t no one putting this pig to sleep!” Patrolman Pig shouted angrily.
“That’s fine by me, Porky. I’ll happily put a stinger in your fat ass. Keep that steel in your hand, and let’s see who’s faster. I’ll even give you a count! You ready? One! Two! Thr—
“Three,” said a horrible, dry voice. Between Detective Dachshund and Patrolman Pig, bounced Scotty’s head, ripped cleanly from his body. It bounced two times and came to a stop at Pig’s feet.
“What in the name of the hot, hot spot?” Patrolman Pig said.
And then Billy Bubblebelly was on him.
Faster than he could think, blink, or scream, Billy’s claws were in Pig’s mouth, getting a firm grip on his tongue. “You spoke a lot of cruel words today, Officer Piggy. But now, you’ll never speak another word ever again!”
And then the air was filled with this horrid squelching sound of wet flesh being ripped free.
“Sweeeeee! Sweeeeeee!” Squealed the pig, as his blood ran freely down his mouth, gushing red liquid like a broken faucet. He dropped his weapon and desperately tried to stem the bleeding. Then, Billy’s paws gripped the side of his head and began to press inward with unrelenting force.
“They’re waiting for you down below, Piiiiiiggy. Oh, and they have such sights to show you! Say hello for me, hmmm?” Billy said. Then he crushed Patrolman Pig’s head into mushy pulp. After letting the body drop, he slowly licked his fingers and ran them all across his face.
“P-papa? Papa? I thought you was bumblin’ dead!” cried Lucy. She began to run to her father’s waiting arms but was suddenly cut off by the detective, who regarded Billy with a deep growl.
“What have you done to yourself, Billy Bubblebelly?” he asked.
“I did what any grieving family man would,” said the thing that was once Billy Bubblebelly. “I went into the deepest, darkest parts of the woods, the places where we don’t go anymore; the places we dread to even remember. I went there with my heart so filled with helpless grief, and I found a voice in that dark place. A voice that told me what happened to my family, and how I could have my vengeance!”
“Billy, you crazed fool! There’s always a price to be paid for such power! What did the voice ask for in exchange?” asked Detective Dachshund.
Billy wouldn’t answer him. He refused to meet the Dachshund's stern gaze. But he did stare meaningfully at the weeping face of his daughter.
Detective Dachshund was disgusted.
“You rabid dog! Your own daughter, Billy? Your own doggone daughter?!
“Papa?” whispered Lucy.
“You wouldn’t have felt a thing, sweetie, I swear it. You wouldn’t have felt a thing! You’d be in heaven with our family, and we would have all been avenged! I was prepared to send you to them, when that bumble-blasted Max the axe came crashing down and hit my head before I could deliver the blow! But the dark ones were still kind to me…they still granted me their power! But if I want to continue my quest to cleanse Honeydew Meadow, I must seal my end of the bargain…
"I’m sorry, Sweetie. But it won’t hurt…you’ll just feel a slight pinch and then you’ll be in paradise…”
Detective Dachshund was on him the instant he tried to touch the girl. Although Dachshunds were a small breed, they were still proud descendants of the terrier line. And there wasn’t a dog alive with terrier genes who’d let a mouse push him around, even if he were an undead, psychopathic, demon worshipping serial killer!
But Billy’s strength was being fed to him from the dark places of the world, and it was inexorable. Try as the Dachshund might, he couldn’t overcome that foul power. With relentless savagery, he was lifted into a fierce bear hug, one that squeezed and squeezed until something went pop!
“Arrrgh! I’m so sorry, Lucy! It’s a typical weakness of my breed! We Dachshunds are notorious for our bad backs!”
“Oh, Detective, you have to get away!” wept Lucy.
“It’s too late for me! But not for you! Go get help while I hold him off. I won’t show my belly to this animal!”
“Papa, stop! Please, Papa! Stop this! Stop this! Stop this!” Lucy begged. But the maniacal thing that was once her father refused to relent.
“Hey, Lucy! Hey, Billy! " cut in another voice. "Sorry, sorry, I got bored in the shed. Hey, what are we doing now? Oh, are we wrestling? I wanna' be Macho Man! Macho Man's COMIN' to GET YA, OHHHH YEEEEAH….oh. Oh. Hey, I didn’t do this. I didn’t do any of this!”
It was Max!
“Maaaax!” yelled Lucy as she ran to me.
“Hey, seriously! It wasn’t me; I didn’t kill anybody! I didn’t even mean to do in that owl, it was just flying overhead when I was practicing my takeoff, I’ve been gooood!” I cried.
“Max, please, please! Stop my daddy! He’s gone rabid!”
“Wait, what? Billy did all of this? Daaaaamn, Billy!”
In response, Billy threw aside the cute l’il puppy in the trench coat (that I wanted to run over and play with and give scritches and bewwy wubs to) and gave me a sinister look.
“There you are, Max. Just in time to take all the blame.”
“Uhhhh, wut?” I asked.
“When I tell them it was an outsider who killed everyone here, they’ll believe me. We Bumblebellys have been good, honest folk living peacefully here in Honeydew Meadow for ten generations! Ain’t no one gonna’ doubt my word. I’m so grateful for you, Max. A more perfect patsy, I could never imagine! Now come here. Come to my arms, and let me end you…”
“Libby?” I called. “Hey, Libby? Is Billy Crazy?”
Hello, Max. Congratulations on your new name.
Thank you!
Which definition of crazy are you currently seeking?
Uhh, the most appropriate one for our current situation.
Understood. Scanning…Yes. Yes, Billy is crazy. Out of his gourd. Batshit-Fucking-Ba-nay-nays.
Because he’s a spree-killing nutjob?
No, because he’s picking a fight with a Divine Weapon.
Oh. Okay, thank you, Libby! I appreciate that. Hey, I also appreciate you. Thanks for your help!
No trouble at all, Max.
I turned back to Billy.
“Hey, Billy. Sorry, I just did a quick consultation. Hey, man, I really don’t like your odds here, and I feel like it would be in your best interests to back down before this situation escalates, okay? I mean, I’m not telling you what to do here, we’re both grownups and we can make our own decisions, but in all seriousness, it wouldn’t turn out well if you—well, darn, Billy.”
Billy ran at me, screaming like a banshee, doing this weird glowing red eye thing while baring his blood drenched fangs at me, I mean it was dramatic. I don’t want to go into too much detail about what happened next, because, sadly, his little girl was in the room and she saw everything that happened, but I had to protect myself, right? I mean, I was the one being attacked.
So, yeah, I basically turned old Billy into a bunch of meaty nonsense.
Campell beef stew was made of chunky bits of meat!
And now Billy Bubblebelly was too.
Wow, look at her.
Lucy’s sitting on the ground, kinda’ staring blankly into space right now. But hey, kids are…kid’s bounce back, right? They have all those fresh stem cells and stuff, don’t they? She'll recover from what she saw today.
She’ll be fiiiiiiine.
Besides, anyone who’s ever read Harry Potter knows that having two dead parents is awesome! Ice cream for dinner with no bedtime! Party at whose place? Lucy’s place!
Oh, right. Someone burned it down.
I’m sure she’ll figure something out.
Kids are resilient.
“Man, Libby! Did you see all that?”
I did. Regrettable choices were made by both sides.
Ha! You’re so silly. Billy was a bad guy, but I was here to stop him! The prophecy of the rhyming spider came true! I’m a…hero!
Max, that wasn’t a prophecy, that spider was attempting to make you lower your guard so it could eat you.
…A heeeeeeroooooo!
…I really do have limits, you know. There may come a time when even I will no longer be able to tolerate the sheer absurdity of your many delusions.
Ha! That’s my tough talking pal, Libby! She’s got a thorny exterior, folks, but she also has a real heart of gold!
Max, I wasn’t joking.
Good ‘ol Libby! She's always ready to deliver a quip!
“Papa…Papa…” Lucy kept whimpering as she rocked forlornly on her haunches.
I think it was time to go.
The Dachshund was still breathing. And he was like an authority figure or whatever, right? Let him take over. I’m just an axe, you can’t really expect me to be some kid’s security blanket. And besides, I didn’t really like Lucy anymore, anyway. I hadn’t forgotten that she’d pinched me! Nearly cut her frickin’ head off over it!
I’m an axe, damn it! Treat me with respect! I'll kill you!
You know what? Honeydew Meadow really wasn’t what I thought it would be. I needed to be around my own kind. This had been an interesting experience, but the real lesson I learned today was that talking animals are stupid.
So farewell, oh strange, twisted little world of cartoonishly adorable little critters who boldly wear shirts, but not pants. May you one day solve your various issues with class inequality, racism, mental health, crime, and corruption, like we human beings did ages ago. Be more like us and less like yourselves!
Goodbye, Honeydew Meadow! Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye!
Lucy, said a voice in the girl's mind.
Max had flown away hours ago, but Lucy had stayed in the barn, lost in her miserable thoughts. Desperately trying to remember happier times, times when both her parents had been alive. Times when it seemed that love and joy would never leave her life.
Lucy. I love you.
“I love you too, Papa.” she whispered.
Lucy. It’s up to you now. They have to pay. You have to MAKE them all pay.
“But Papa, I’m so small.”
That’s okay, Lucy. Big things often start small. A single raindrop precedes a flood. A small cell becomes a malignant lump. A single atom can smash an entire city.
You can do it, Lucy.
You can do anything.
To her right, Detective Dachshund struggled to breath. He hadn’t opened his eyes once, since her Papa hurt him.
You know what you have to do.
“But Papa, isn’t it wrong?
You know what you have to do.
Lucy picked up Patrolman Pig’s Bee-Bee gun. It still had a single round chambered in it. Then she looked at the helpless Detective Dachshund.
Do it Lucy. Make the right choice.
Do it, Lucy.
Do it, Lucy.
Do it, Lucy...
Eyes wide, hands trembling, Lucy did it.
Lucy made her choice.
submitted by vehino to HFY [link] [comments]

Market Crash and Food Crisis YOLO Update 10/24

Market Crash and Food Crisis YOLO Update 10/24
Up about ~$14000 total as of this week in realized and unrealized gains. A less than impressive gain since my last update (was up about ~$12000 realized and unrealized) but whatever the hell it was that happened on CPI day did a number on me. Since many people appear to be having issues with images on Reddit lately, in addition to the above, here's the current positions written out.
I've significantly rebalanced my positions, the account I was using for holding shares has since been switched over to income generating energy plays on oil, natural gas, and uranium. I've also dumped a lot of my index shorts to open a little under $8000 in Apple and Amazon puts.
The food shortage plays aren't looking great, the harvest came in worse than expected this fall, but I may have gotten the timing for the pricing in of that bad harvest wrong. Will probably look to roll out and add to the agricultural positions to next spring/summer. Ag ETF positions omitted from picture because AutoMod didn't like them.
C0RN - 27.60 (last update 26.91)
10 2/17/23 31c
W3AT - 8.75 (last update 8.82)
10 1/20/23 17c
20 1/20/23 18c
S0YB - 26.46 (last update 26.88)
10 11/18 29c
10 2/17/23 29c
SPXS - 28.87 (last update 27.14)
8 11/4 30c
SPXU - 21.92
11 12/16 21c
SPY - 357.63 (last update 367.95)
4 11/18 330p
7 12/16 300p
4 3/17/23 255p
4 1/19/24 210p
AAPL - 138.83
100 12/16 80p
100 12/16 70p
50 6/16 60p
AMZN - 106.90
50 12/16 65p
Link to the post laying out my general thesis on this play. And since this somehow became a thing in the comments of that post - yeah, that's not a straight screenshot of any of my brokerage accounts, I put the images from Schwab, Fidelity, and ETrade together into one picture on MS Paint because I've got no interest in sharing my full accounts or account numbers with the internet.
I'm not a fan of diamond handing options, blew up my account once like that, now I take profits. The italicized positions are new since last update, and were bought with profits from closing stuff.
I added the Apple and Amazon shorts because they're the two shittiest, most overpriced companies in the market, along with Tesla (tessie is going to die hard and fast once the HF's and institutions that are long on it start blowing up). Apple's consumer graph looks incredibly similar to Nike's, and well, look what happened after their last ER. Amazon is currently a great company (AWS) tied to a shitberg of money losing (everything else AMZN does). Jassy was a horrifically bad choice to head up Amazon as a whole because he doesn't understand what their marketplace's competitive advantage actually is or how it's being destroyed. Price target on AAPL = 45ish, on AMZN 25ish. Their PE's are 23 and 96 respectively. Both AAPL and AMZN also currently have Unionizing issues that are just going to keep increasing. Sooner or later TSLA will get unionized as well, at least at the factories.
I'd like to have more Amazon and any Tesla short positions, but right now I can't find a good entry on them, so I'll keep waiting until I do.
My optimistic case for global harvests is now -20%. Every international analysis I've looked at points to excess production from countries that don't have it to make up the shortfall. Supposedly the US is/has prepared a brief on just how bad it is, and that is not available to the public. I am no longer sure this will be priced in before my current options expire. Looking at potentially rolling my current ones out about 6 months, will add to them if I do.
As per one of my previous DD's, we're now seeing increased migration and violence around the world, with a second competing currency bloc forming primarily around Russia and China. There are some other countries that get lumped in with that, but I'm doubtful they all stick, given the tensions between many of them.
I'll take a second to recommend u/Peruvian_Bull 's DD posts on the collapse of the dollar as global reserve currency, there has been absolute chaos and carnage in the Forex markets lately and his stuff from over a year ago is pretty much playing out perfectly.
China's economy is basically a zombie being propped up by threats of violence to banking and real estate executives and local government officials. Once the China National Party Congress meeting ends (runs from 10/16 though 10/22) the wheels probably come off in a very, very bad way.
Tehran continues to have increasing protests after the Basij (religious police, everyone hates them) murdered a 22 year old woman for not wearing a hijab. Food prices are now higher than they were during the Arab Spring. These protests aren't as big of a deal as some in the west want to pretend, but they're a bigger deal and have more popular support than you'd think from the press coverage (lack) on them. Food prices and inflation are high enough this could easily take a wild turn very unexpectedly and very fast in Iran/KSA/Iraq/Syria/Egypt. All of these countries have large populations of young men and the temperature will get very hot in them in a couple of months. (the basic formula for societal unrest is lots of young men + poor job/future prospects + hot weather + high prices = violence)
Russia continues to experience issues with it's plan to draft people, and continues losing in Ukraine. Western leaders appear to be pulling a repeat of the Treaty of Versailles mistakes of just thinking they can grind a country down indefinitely instead of giving them a way out. The Ukrainian provinces currently being fought over were in open rebellion/civil war for years before Russia invaded, and would make some nice "buffer states" in any peace deal. Russia's conventional army is basically gone at this point, going forwards they'll be fighting asymmetrically with cyber attacks and hits on infrastructure leading to spikes in energy prices or big drops in markets.
India has halted Rice exports, after shutting down Wheat exports earlier this summer. California's Rice crop is, to put it mildly, toast. The poorest people eat rice - this one is going to get bad going forward.
submitted by catbulliesdog to wallstreetbets [link] [comments]

The Daily Dogelon - Tuesday, December 6th, 2022

The Daily Dogelon - Tuesday, December 6th, 2022
You better watch out, Martians. 🚀🚀🚀
Have you been good this year? You can still turn things around! 💫
Stack up some nice points by reading The Daily Dogelon. 📰

Don't fake it. Make it.

🌌 Heading to another, another dimension!

There goes the dystopia!

A new week naturally means one thing... A new Dogelon Warriors comic issue! 🦸
Ladies and gentlemen, buckle up. You'll need to mentally prepare for this. 🧠
Out of the blue, a schism across time and space sucked up our heroes at the last minute. 🙌
And now? They're being zapped to the most fearsome landscape they visited yet... 😨
Contemporary Earth! We're only speculating of course, so have a look for yourselves below. 👇

🥂 Third time's the charm:

Officially publicised!

With a fantastic debut on the podcasting front, Elongevity is back for more. 🙋‍♂️
Yet another community-driven project that's seeking out the greatest topics and minds! 👨‍🏫
This week, they're featuring leading forensic and medical academic, Dr Jari Louhelainen. 🎉
In case you missed Methuselah's initial announcement of the release, now's your chance. 👏
Tune in for fascinating discussions regarding longevity, the future, and even Jack the Ripper! 👀

👇 Now, let's take this puppy to the stars:

✔️ CoinMarketCap - Vote Up
✔️ Coingecko - Vote Up
✔️ Coinsniper - Add to watchlist
✔️ Stocktwits - Add to watchlist
✔️ Coinbase - Add to watchlist
✔️ LiveCoinWatch - Heart
✔️ Follow official Twitter
✔️ Follow Dogelon Warriors
✔️ Follow Dogelon Warriors Instagram
✔️ Follow Dogelon Warriors Facebook
✔️ Follow Dogelon Mars Instagram

Find inner-peace in...

⚜️ The Daily Dogelon Gallery ⚜️

What fresh dimension is this??

Palms are temporary. Paws are forever.

See ya, bot.

Wise, as always.

Getting the gang back together.

Here are some ELON exchanges 📊 for your convenience:

ZT Global

WATCH OUT FOR SCAMS and verify with our legit channels:
Follow our official accounts 📱 for all the latest updates and announcements along with breaking news 🚨 for #DOGELON!

Merry Martians, that's what we are! 👨‍🚀
submitted by Hiei80 to dogelon [link] [comments]

Amazon free shipping to Philippines - trial order
detailed psa for filipino bookworms, bookhoarders, and everyone in between.
tried the recently-announced free amazon shipping to philippines. from order to quezon city doorstep, took less than 2 wks. the last-mile drop was done via motorcycle, booked through ninjavan (possibly by a 3rd party consolidator?). box did not pass through the hassle of local post office.
the books are packed same way to when they are shipped domestically within US—loose (not tightly packed inside the box) and with simple ‘air cushions’ (see pic). the corrugated carton is also not double-walled, not any thicker than usual. as a result, the philip roth book has some creases in its jacket and bumps on the corner covers. i would have hated those bumps and creases 10yrs ago; i’m at peace with those small stuff now. :-) the other two items are okay; probably helped that they are shrinkwrapped at publisher side. calibrate-to-lower your expectations when shipping bare paperback.
more important: the savings is clear. in fact, not looking at the tag price yet, this route is cheaper vs my usual way of going through friends’ address in CA or TX, where sales tax is charged outright upon checkout, plus add the balikbayan box cost. this test order is showing a heavy 14lbs weight, but shipping cost is zero.
order more than 49USD, but less than 10K PhP, whatever is the forex on the day you click buy. also note that not all books and items are included in the promo; titles that are qualified are clearly marked in the product page and shopping cart, after you change your default shipping to a phil. address. but you’ll find books that you’ll want to ship for sure.
if you’re into them, comic book compilations, graphic novels, and omnibuses are the immediate best buys. these are either very rare and/or very expensive here. And they are also very heavy (~10lbs+), not ideal even to handcarry when you travel to the US.
glad to get the hellboy boxed set, 50USD shipped. test order successful. i will get that batman snyder, planetary by ellis, and saga by vaughan next. small joys within reach.
submitted by holdenliwanag to Philippines [link] [comments]

DD Update on RFP: How Lumber’s Best Price Performer is Looking After a 60% Surge in the Last Month

I posted a DD on RFP a month ago. Since then this stock has surged almost 60%, including an epic 15% jump last Friday when the housing starts numbers were published and showed massive increase in construction since February; which I said it would a month ago.
I’ve been getting a lot of messages recently asking if this stock is still worth buying or what’s my PT. I am not going to suggest a PT or tell anyone whether they should buy this stock or when to sell if they bought it. Everyone has their own risk tolerance and investing style.
However, I am willing share the main data points (positive and negative) that I have so far focused on which will explain why I haven’t sold any of my shares yet, nor plan to in the next few weeks. If you see flaws in the data/analysis, please share. I am not a financial analyst. I can’t give you advice. I am just going to share with you why I am still sticking with this stock.
Brief History Description
If you want a brief history description on this company, you can go to my old DD on it
The only thing I will add: here’s a very recent interview from a lumber distributotrader giving a good interview on why lumber is so high, and will continue to be high for a while. If you look at analyst projections for the major homebuilders, like LEN, DHI, TOL, etc… they all expect the homebuilders to see continuously increasing earnings for this year and 2022. If they plan on building like crazy for the foreseeable future, that’s great news for companies like RFP.
Present Day Conditions
YTD RFP is up 126% and 812% for the year. As with any stock, the higher it climbs, the more you should expect resistance (little dips) from profit taking. There may be a dip on Monday after last Friday’s insane rally. When I posted in March that this was an undervalued stock, there were many people saying the lumber surge was over and the stock had peaked. They were wrong :). Now let’s look at what’s changed in the last 30 days now that the stock is up 60% since then.
Bear Case Considerations
I want to start with possible downsides to consider. First, this stock is almost now trading at its 5 year high (Current price – 14.78; 5-year High was 15.50 in 2018). The stock hasn’t traded in the 20s and 30s in over a half a decade. So expect more turbulence and resistance on the way there.
Second, this is a cyclical stock. Cyclicals do great until they don’t. This stock will likely start a decline right before the decline in earnings shows up in an earnings statement. A great analogy for exit strategies on cyclicals is: You want to leave the party while you’re still having fun. To see a great example this, look at RFP’s stock price trajectory in Fall 2018, right before it’s Q3 earnings announcement on November 2, 2018. Q3 was its best earnings for the year, but the stock was already declining from its 52WK high because lumber and wood pulp prices were crashing prior to that November announcement.
Third, the trailing PE is now ~135. So there is absolutely some futures earning priced in at this point. However, for reason’s I’ll explain later, this PE is very misleading because of an accounting quirk from Q4 2020.
Four, dimensional lumber already has surged over 300% to ~ $1200-1300 MBF in the cash markets. While those prices may surge a tiny bit more in the next couple months, it’s highly unlikely that there will be much more growth in price; a very important consideration for a cyclical stock.
Fifth, who the heck knows what Covid still has in store, if anything. There was a recent lockdown order for Ontario (where some RFP facilities are) due to a spike in Covid cases. Things like this could cut into RFP’s bottom line. Hard to say how much if at all.
Sixth, they still have some pension liabilities that need to be paid for and will certainly mute the full impact of earnings (meaning less re-investment or less dividend potential) until these liabilities are fully paid off. These pension liabilities could be a major factor decreasing the perceived fair value of the stock in the eyes of the institutional investors/HF’s.
Why The Bear Case Doesn’t Scare Me Yet
1) I like Peter Lynch’s perspective that past performance doesn’t guarantee future performance. 800% growth doesn’t mean it will stop growing nor does it mean the stock will continue to grow. What matters is whether the future earnings coming down the road justify further growth. If they do, stay the course.
2) While the pattern of cyclicals means there will be a peak and a drop from that peak, what’s different with this particular company is that it was trading at ridiculous lows, and if they finish paying off their debt this year (which I think they will), that combined with the improvements they’ve made in 2020 and 2021, the resting run rate of this stock has a good chance of being higher than it was before this cycle started. If it does, and you ask me how much higher will than normal run rate be? I have no fucking clue. Anyone who claims to is talking out of their ass.
3) The trailing PE is high, and a good portion of Q1 earnings is priced in, but I don’t think it’s fully priced in for two reasons. First, in Q4 RFP did an $80 Million writeoff for the idling of two newsprint mills—a one-time accounting expense that wasn’t a literal cash expenditure—which put them in the negative for that quarter and a EPS of 10 cents for 2020. If you remove that write off, their current PE would be in the ballpark of 13-14.
Second, Q1’s average projected EPS is $1.66. I think they will beat it, but let’s say they don’t. Then the trailing EPS will be $1.77 and give you a PE of 8.3 at the current price. If you go for the adjusted PE that doesn’t include the writeoff, that would make the trailing EPS about ~$2.77 which would give an adjusted TTM PE of 5.33 at current price. So, either way the company is still undervalued when Q1 earnings gets added in.
4) Dimensional lumber will probably hit its peak in the next couple months. That being said, because of what’s driving this massive surge in prices (massive growth in housing construction and remodeling), unlike in 2018, I don’t think the price will drop fast after it hits the peak. Consistent with that, if you look at dimensional lumber futures here, you can see that the futures market right now is expecting lumber to stay 2-3x it’s 2019 price for the rest of year, and possibly into 2022.
Current Valuation Metrics compared to other Lumber Players
Even with the awesome rally in the last month, here’s RFP valuation ratios
RFP P/E 135 Forward P/E 3.86 Price/Sales .42 Price/Book 1.19 Price/Cash flow 6.57 
Now let’s compare RFP’s ratios to similar forestry/lumber producers (WFG, WY, LPX, IFSPF and CFPZF) (Link to screenshot):
Forestry/Lumber Avg P/E 15.2 Forward P/E 10.1 Price/Sales 2.1 Price/Book 4.4 Price/Cash flow 11.4 
Takeaways: 1) RFP still has the best forward PE, price-to-sales ratio, price-to-book ratio. 2) It has the highest trailing PE, but again, if you remove the newsprint mill write-off, it is actually sitting right below the average, 3) Interfor and Canfor have slightly better price-to-cashflow, but RFP is substantially better than WY, WFG, and LPX. Overall, RFP still has the best overall ratio picture and best forward-looking position, even after this 60% rally.
The Bullish Case for 2021
I am not going repeat what I wrote in the last post. To see the things I listed to support a bull case a month ago, here’s the link
Future Lumber outlook has dramatically improved but analysts haven’t yet accounted for it.
Myself and other RFP longs have been banging our heads for months now, because the 4 analysts who cover RFP so far still refuse to acknowledge the complete reality of the surge in lumber prices. Here’s a snapshot of average analyst quarterly EPS projections for 2021. If you look up the other lumber stocks, they make all the same projections of mediocre Q2 and then Q3/Q4 dropping off hard.
The issue is that the avg lumber price for Q1 will probably fall in the ballpark of 800-950. (Remember there is a 9% duty for the lumber produced in Canada). However, the avg price for Q2 will absolutely be over $1000 MBF. So profits from lumber should be higher in Q2 than Q1. And given the volume and price surge for the futures in the Q3 months (July futures currently trading over $1100 MBF), Q3 will almost certainly have a higher EPS than Q1, much less the current analysts’ projections for Q3.
Also, by end of June, RFP’s three US mills they bought in 2020 should be running at full capacity according to the last earnings transcript. At full capacity they increase the companies lumber production by ~25%. So this only further adds to the extra sales/profit to be expect after Q2, compared to Q1.
But here’s a decent way for you to do your own math for the value of the lumber segment:
For RFP, assume $400 costs USD. There may be a few other costs to factor in, but not that much. May be $50 for longer shipping distances or whatnot. So, at $1000 MBF, you get about $500 cash margins. At $1200 (which is still lower than the current cash price) you get $700 cash margins.
RFP will probably produce around 2.5 billion feet of lumber, so prices of $1000 per thousand feet let’s you do the math. I’d use a lower realization given the duty and we don’t know yet how Q4 will look. So let’s call it $900 avg for year. So that roughly gives us margins of $450 USD per thousand feet on 2.5 billion of feet. So that’s $1.12B in cash earnings — or about $14/share — for 2021. Depreciation/Amortization should take a chuck of that away so I don’t think that will be pure GAAP net income. But still, pretty decent for a stock currently valued at $14.78, or a market cap of 1.2 billion. And that’s just the lumber segment.
So for those wondering if the party is over, ask yourself, how many companies are likely to produce their current market cap in EBITDA in the next year from just one of their business segments…? Food for thought on the current valuation. : )
But Wait, there’s More!
Putting aside all the cash the lumber segment is printing, the Paper and Pulp sectors also appear to be doing well and likely will boost profits in Q2/Q3, at a minimum.
Unfortunately, the current prices of paper and wood pulp are much more opaque and harder to preemptively track. However, there are some limited free resources out there and they seem to show upward trajectory starting at the beginning of Q1 and continuing to grow in Q2, which means we should expect higher PapePulp profits in Q2, and Q3 if trend holds. Since it is harder for me to figure out all the drivers of this surge (beyond economy reopening and China’s ban on non-degradable single-use plastics), I don’t have the confidence to look beyond Q3 for now on these two areas.
In terms of what I use to try and get a feel for these two areas:
1) The closest thing to a futures market indicator for pulp. (Shanghai Futures Market) The value is in yuan so you have to convert the currency yourself. It is a relatively recent and speculative market, but it so far has generally done a decent job of acting as a mirror of the general wood pulp market. As long as these futures are up, that’s a decent indicator of what’s currently going on in pulp world generally.
2) There are couple of analysts who give little tidbits when companies, including RFP and its competitors, announce price increases on pulp. I follow this editor. I don’t pay for his service. But if you scroll through his feed (or search twitter for the terms “NBSK price” and “SBSK Price” you’ll see his tweets in the last few months announcing price increases to RFP’s two main types of pulp in the last few months, both by RFP and its competitors. If you do that, you’ll see big price increases being announced, many of which are effective during Q2. So I expect Q2 and beyond to do better than Q1 in those areas as well.
3) For Paper, this one is the hardest. This was a recent article that talks about the type of paper RFP produces and that indicates prices are going up. But beyond that, as the economy opens back up, paper profits are expected to increase from 2020 levels. So I think this will get better over the next few quarters, compared to last year.
Overall, it’s hard to say for sure what this means for true earnings for the year, but in terms of how I am planning my own exit strategies on this stock, I think there are major upward revisions coming to analyst projections after Q1 Earnings on April 29 and probably again during the summer, largely because lumber’s historically increased price probably isn’t going away any time soon.
RFP has a major additional earnings booster hiding in its financials which aren’t reflected in the valuation metrics but will be in the next few quarters
Here’s an awesome nugget I recently realized that isn’t reflected in the valuation ratios, but I think it will help propel the book value/EV of RFP‘s earnings and the ultimate EPS.
Here’s a screenshot of RFP’s 2020 10-K, specifically it’s deferred tax assets. If you don’t know what a deferred tax asset is, especially loss carryforwards, google it or watch a Youtube video on it. If you don’t know what valuation allowance, it’s very important you look it up to understand this bit.
Essentially, because of the massive losses RFP sustained over the last decade while it transformed itself, it has over $800 million dollars in loss carryforwards and tax credits which it can use to pay virtually no taxes on the likely 100s of millions of dollars in earnings it will generate in the immediate future.
Here’s the real critical point, those carryforward losses largely aren’t reflected in the book value/enterprise value of the company because of that 774-million-dollar valuation allowance which was essentially a write off of those deferred tax assets.
Meaning, as RFP starts to generate more earnings, some of that valuation allowance will likely be undone, so that the loss carryforwards can be used, and when it does, the reversal of those valuation allowances will look like extra earnings/EPS on the books. Meaning, if they remove $160 million of VA to account for the use of the same DTA’s to avoid paying taxes on 2021 earnings, that will look like an extra $2 EPS for 2021. Given that the current enterprise value is only 1.63 billion, if the total valuation allowance was reversed tomorrow that would cause an immediate increase in their enterprise value of 47% and would look like a net income of $9.69 EPS….
RFP probably isn’t going to do it all at once but that gives you a sense of the scale of net income that will be added to RFP’s books in the coming quarters/years as they generate profits and RFP removes the valuation allowance negating the book value of the DTAs they previously wrote-off.
If the Canadian Lumber tariff is removed, this would result in an instant windfall for RFP.
I’ve been asked how the politics of the tariff could affect RFP. The answer is, it would be incredible for RFP if the tariff is removed. Right now, pressure is building from the homebuilders associations and from Canada to have the US remove the 9% tariff on Canadian lumber. I have no clue when or if this will happen and won’t speculate on that issue.
BUT, if the tariff is removed, RFP gets all the money it has set aside to pay future duties. At end of Q4, that was $243 million (See Page 4 of their 2020 10-k). That comes to just over $3 of EPS, which is quite significant given that the average analyst projection for net income for the year is $4 EPS…
TLDR: This stock has been kicking ass for a reason and I think will continue to do so. I can’t predict the future, but I haven’t sold a share yet and will continue to keep a majority of my portfolio in this stock for the next 1-2 quarters at a minimum, because of the massive earnings they are/will be generating. I don’t think the true future earnings of 2021 are priced in yet by analyst PTs or the current stock price.
Note: I am not a financial advisoanalyst. Please do your own research and make your own decisions if this company is under or overvalued. I am sharing my thoughts with you because the mainstream financial media gives dogshit advice on how to invest in lumber.
I’m long RFP in both shares and long term calls. Don’t ask me for a PT, I’m not gonna give you one. Don’t ask me if you should buy it, when you should buy it or when you should sell it. You have to make those decisions for yourself.
submitted by Ding123456 to stocks [link] [comments]

What are Bollinger Bands and how are they used in trading?

What are Bollinger Bands and how are they used in trading?
Bollinger Bands are used as a tool for technical analysis of a variety of financial markets, including Forex. They show the prices and volatility over time of a given asset and are used in various trading strategies.
The Bollinger Bands formula was introduced in the 1980s by John Bollinger. Since then, these statistical charts have been used to analyze market data, inform trading decisions, and manage algorithmic trading.
In this article, you will learn what exactly Bollinger bands are, how they are calculated, their relationship with the MACD indicator and with other indicators such as the RSI, among other key points of this tool.
Related: Top Stock Investment Newsletters

What are Bollinger Bands?

They are indicators for the analysis of price patterns. These are two intervals drawn in order to predict the range of potential volatility of an asset, in relation to a moving average.
Typically, these price channels move across the chart symmetrically. But under certain market conditions, the distance between the bands varies significantly.
Despite the existence of trends, we cannot deny that market movements can be quite erratic. Therefore, technical analysis applies this method to anticipate a price action.
Bollinger Bands appear as three bands, with the middle being a simple moving average, usually drawn over a 20-minute period.
The other two bands (the upper and the lower) are reactive to changes in volatility and indicate the two extremes. They are calculated around the simple moving average, which we will show you below. They are first drawn and then projected into a channel that will contain the expected price changes.

How to set up Bollinger bands?

The Bollingers Band can be used on most time frames, from short-term periods, such as five-minute charts, to daily, hourly, or monthly frames.
The commonly used period is set to 20, but can be modified to suit a specific need. As for the standard deviation, it is often positioned at 2.0.
As a consequence, the indicated Bollinger Bands (20.2) signal that the period and standard deviation (StdDev) are set to 20 and 2, respectively. The term “High StdDev” means that the price is less likely to reach any of the bands. With a low StdDev, the price will possibly outperform the channel.
To calculate Bollinger Bands, you must determine the middle, lower, and upper bands separately. The formulas are as follows:
  • Middle band = 20-day SMA (simple moving average).
  • Lower band = 20-day SMA – (20-day price standard deviation x 2).
  • Upper band = 20-day SMA + (20-day price standard deviation x 2).

How to use Bollinger bands?

Let's quickly review the type of information that traders can measure from this indicator:
  • The upper band shows statistically higher prices.
  • The lower band proves otherwise.
  • The bandwidth; that is, the difference between the upper and lower Bollinger bands corresponds to the volatility of the market.
As an indicator of volatility, Bollinger Bands tighten or widen around the price chart. As seen in the above formula, the price range widens as the standard deviation increases and vice versa. For example, when the volatility of a given currency pair is low, the channel narrows.
Furthermore, it can be used to confirm a trend and describe its direction and strength:
During an uptrend, the price will continuously reach the upper band. The price reaching the upper band means that the buying activity is strong.
The trend is likely to increase, not only when the 20-period MA is higher, but also when it goes beyond the upper band.
In the event that the price pulls back during an uptrend, it can mean two things. If it does not fall lower than the SMA and rises again, it confirms the strength of the trend. However, if it breaks above the lower band, it means that the uptrend is reversing.
By confirming price action, Bollinger Bands provide Forex traders with information on whether to open buy or sell positions. For example, a sell trade should be placed at the upper limit of the band, while entering a buy trade is advisable at the lower limit of the band.
If a currency normally follows a range pattern, this method will be useful. However, mistakes can cause huge losses, such as when a breakout occurs.
As a technical analysis tool, Bollinger Bands offer peace of mind when traders make certain decisions. When trading near the outer limits, you can be sure that there is resistance (upper band) or support (lower band).
But this indicator is just an insufficient signal, as all it does is offer insight into the price relative to historical volatility.

3 Bollinger Bands Trading Strategies

After determining what Bollinger Bands are, how to calculate them, and what kind of information they provide, it's time to learn about some of the best strategies to use.

1. Bollinger Squeeze

When the distance between the Bollinger bands reaches a 6-month low, it is identified as a “squeeze”. When volatility is this low, traders need to prepare for the eventual breakout. The biggest challenge is figuring out the direction of the breakout:
Let's see an example. Suppose that other indicators, such as the relative strength index ( RSI ), along with a volume-based indicator, are rising. At the same time, the price is falling or falling sideways. These are signs that it is a bull market.
On the other hand, when the price rises and the indicators are stable or below, it is a bearish breakout.
When the price moves in either direction after this consolidation period, the price movement is usually aggressive. If it breaks through the upper band, traders must place buy orders and vice versa. A stop loss is preferably set on the opposite side of the breakout.

2. Scalping

This strategy takes advantage of short-term volatility in the currency. It even works for limited range conditions, closely accompanied by Bollinger bands.
Here are the settings:
  • Bollinger bands are set to the default parameters - 20.2.
  • The best timeframes for Bollinger Bands scalping are 1 minute, 5 minute and 15 minute charts.
  • The recommended trading sessions are those in London, New York and Tokyo.
  • Lastly, traders can make maximum profits when trading currency pairs with low spreads like GBP/USD, EUUSD, etc.
Enter a long trade if:
  • The price remains above the middle band and approaches the upper band.
  • The bandwidth is extended.
  • The price seems to be going up.
The short entry rules are as follows:
  • The price remains below the middle band and approaches the upper band.
  • The bandwidth is extended.
  • Market sentiment points to the bearish move and the price is pushed further down.

3. MACD indicator

The strategy is set up to use the MACD indicator in order to define the trend and Bollinger bands and trigger trades.
The MACD indicator settings should be set to:
  • Slow moving average at 26.
  • Fast moving average at 12.
  • 9 day EMA as the “signal” line.
The Bollinger Bands configurations are:
  • MA at 12.
  • StdDev a 2.
The conditions for entering a long position are: the MACD must be higher than the signal and zero lines, and the buy stop order must be placed at the upper Bollinger band.
Short trades are entered when: the MACD is lower than the signal and zero lines, while the sell stop order is set at the lower Bollinger band.
With this strategy you will receive accurate signals, avoid large losing streaks and have the opportunity to profit from trend and consolidation conditions. However, it is important that you constantly look at the charts.

Trading with Bollinger Bands

All successful traders must be able to determine how the markets move. This is why Bollinger Bands are applied: to analyze the strength of the trend, to monitor when a reversal may occur, and to inform whether you must enter or exit the market to make a profit.
With Libertex you can find a strategy that suits your skills and preferences. This platform is built by professionals, which guarantees that you will have at your disposal the best features and knowledge for each level.
Start a free demo account to learn more about selecting and placing trades and progress to more complex strategies. Although Forex may seem intimidating at first, it's actually more achievable than you might think.
Likewise, if you are interested in trading and want more information before diving into it, on our blog you will find articles on strategies, tools -such as Bollinger bands- and other essential concepts so that you become familiar with this wonderful universe.
>>>Access more profitable trading tips joining the Capitalist Exploits Insider Newsletter
submitted by kayakero to CapitalistExploits [link] [comments]

Mystique of Ettal Abby by Russell Miles

BROTHER KUNZ knelt to tend the rows of Asparagus in the Cloister’s vegetable patch. His knees ached. The Asparagus looked pale green. Kunz lifted one.
“A bit firm” he thought.
He could pick them in a few days.
He looked toward the statue of the Holy Mother, whom the Abby honoured, and said a prayer of thanks.
The Sun was creeping over the walls of Ettal Abby. Kunz enjoyed this time of day in the Cloister. He took the wooden trowel from the rope holding his robe in place. He dug around the rows of Asparagus, pulling out weeds.
Another Brother walked into the cloister from the lodge where the brothers lived. He waved to Kunz and walked to the scriptorium on the other side of the cloister. The beginning of another day writing out texts. Kunz reflected on his own work on the manuscripts. He preferred the outdoors than dull lit scriptorium.
Kunz heard footsteps clump on the stone stairway behind him. He looked about and saw the Abby’s Apothecary [uh·po·thuh·kuh·ree], Brother Harru.
“Guten morgen, Brother,” said Kunz[Kun-z].
Harru cross his arms across his solid chest. “Our garden is looking grand.”
Kunz pushed himself up, using his arms to take the strain of his knees. “It is good to get ones’ hands in the soil,” he remarked.
“We all eat better for your dedication,” offered Harru.
Kunz smiled, “The tomatoes are coming along. I shall plant beans soon. The weather is pleasant. Easier on my bones.”
“Might we talk?” ask Harru.
“I’m always be willing to listen.”
“How are you feeling?”
Kunz open his mouth, but no words followed.
“Sit down, sit,” said Harru as he squatted himself.
Kunz moved about and ease himself down on the stone wall around the vegetable patch. “I am much better,” he finally said.
“Very good, very good,” said Harru.
Harru pulled out one of the Asparagus and bent it.
“Too soft to snap,” Kunz offered.
“Flavorsome compared with the produce of village market,” said Harru.
“I would love some Radicchio [rad-ic-yo] to roast’ responds Kunz
“There is more produce being sold; we’ve eaten tasty hog of late,” states Harru.
“The trade with Lombardy improves,” said Kunz.
“To feed the labours working on the fortifications,” remarks Harru.
“Have the Teutonic Knights returned?”
“The Knights are in the barracks. The roads are secure.”
“The Knights are fearsome,” says Kunz in admiration.
“And your sleep?” says Harru to return to the subject.
Kunz shrugged his shoulders.
Harru nods but says nothing.
“I have thoughts. Thoughts in my head.”
“You must pray,” said Harru.
Kunz struggled to formulate his words. “I recite Mark’s Gospel about Our Lord. I remember the words. Mark is brusque. My favourite as a novice. When we practiced silence, I would recite Mark in my head to stop myself from being distracted.”
Harru lolls his head.
“Have you noticed that Mark writes in circles. Patterns of three with three stages in each.”
“I wonder if this thinking is keeping you from sleep,” suggested Harru.
“In the fourth chapter of Mark,” Kunz continued, not acknowledging Brother Harru’s comment. “Our Lord is with crowds by the Sea, crosses the Sea in a boat and a storm arises, then he heals and performs miracles, drives out demons from the graveyard, raises the young girl from the dead.”
Harru interrupts; “What is the Year?”
Kunz squinches. Finally he says, “The Year of Our Lord 1388.”
“Your memory is sounder,” responses Harru.
“My memory is superb,” asserts Kunz. “In chapter five, Jesus is again by the sea, there is a storm, and a miracle of feeding the five thousand. In chapter six Jesus is again by the sea, another eventful crossing of the sea, and feeds five thousand more.”
“Our Lord is compassionate; his followers were hungry. We are to be compassionate too,” Harru counsels.
Another Brother entered the cloister; sees Harru and Kunz and harries across to the nave on the other side.
“I must attend prayers,” says Harru as he stands.
“But three journeys by sea, three storms, miracles each time. Is that how events in life unfold?” queried Kunz.
Two more Brothers entered the cloister, and they too hurry across to Nave.
“This is how the story is Told,” exclaimed Harru.
“I heard Men-at-arms ride by last night,” Kunz interjected.
“The Swabian [Swab-ie-an and Rhenish [reh·nuhsh] towns maneuver.”
“Perhaps if I could have my books,” requested Kunz.
“We have discussed this before. Reading would be a strain. You need rest. To recover.”
Kunz lowered his head
“You are getting better. Be patient. You are safe here. I shall come again in few days.”
Harru headed toward the Nave.
KUNZ moves along the garden pulling weeds. He turns to pick up his trowel and sees Brother Baver; hunched over on the other side of the garden. Baver was digging over a garden bed. Kunz waved.
Baver waved back.
“You heard?” called Kunz. He pushed himself up and walked slowly across the garden.
Baver continued digging. “While do you bother. Harru doesn’t approve. He doesn’t listen. He has many Affairs to attend.”
“I think about things,” pressed Kunz. “I have ideas. In my head. I need to talk.”
“You have been told the rest; not think.” Baver pushed his trowel deep into the soil.
“I study the sacred text.”
“Mumpitz!” [Mum-pitz] exclaims Baver.
Kunz stood next to Baver. “It is not nonsense.”
“For sure; the story of Our Lord and the five thousand is a rendition of Moses crossing the Sea and feeding the Israelites with manna. But what does that show?”
Brothers emerge from the Nave. Some walk back to the scriptorium, and others to the Chapter House.
“I long to walk among the fields and stables outside,” says Kunz.
“The smell of tannery, slaughterer-house and villages defecating where they stand,” scoffs Baver.
“And the exotic aromas from the trading posts, and the spectacle of the mountain bastion.”
“I choose the solitude,” laments Baver.
“The author of Mark may have drawn ideas from the Hebrew Bible,” exhorts Kunz.
“Of course Mark did. He must have been a learned man. Highly skilled in the Greek language of those day. Better than your Greek to be sure.”
“My Greek is excellent.” Kunz sat on a stone wall.
“Says you,” snorted Baver as he pushed the trowel in the soil again. “You must see the inference. Harru does.”
“Perhaps Mark wrote St Paul’s ideas as stories, so as to aid memory and comprehension.”
“Perhaps Mark learnt of Our Lord’s ministry from writings long-lost or stories told by the Faithfull.”
“I am reciting The Scriptures.”
“You are querying the source of the sacred stories.”
“I celebrate our Lords Blood sacrifice for all of Our transgressions.”
“That you do.” Baver stood up. “I must finish my chores. No more idle chatter.”
“You’ll be in the garden tomorrow.”
“I’m always in the garden.” Baver shifted his robe as he strode out of the cloister.
KUNZ spent much of the next few days in the cloister’s garden. The Asparagus were ripe to pick. The tomatoes were turning from green to red and growing, but so too were the weeds. Kunz dipped a cloth in a mixture of vinegar and lemon to wipe the leaves, protecting them from bugs.
“Ever attentive,” remarked Harru who was standing on the steps.
Kunz felt startled. “I did not hear you.”
“I have been standing here for a little while.”
Kunz stared at Harru.
“You look contented.”
“I am absorbed. I can garden while thinking.”
“Thinking,” Harru repeated as he sat down on the steps.
“Of what to plant next, do I need to add manure, will it rain.”
“Those are good thoughts.”
“And the Gospel of Mark is bad thoughts,” said Kunz.
Harru frowned.
“Have you pondered how Mark’s Gospel book-ends Jesus’ baptism and death with explicit declarations,” offered Kunz.
“I have cautioned you about such thinking,” states Harru.
Kunz noticed Baver come into the cloister’s garden and sit down on the far side.
“At the baptism there is a voice from heaven: ‘You are my Son, and at the crucifixion a gentile centurion says ‘Truly this man was the Son of God’”.
“Jesus is the Son of God,” asserted Harru.
Baver started digging in the garden.
“The Spirit descends like a dove at baptism, and then the Spirit gives up the ghost at death,” went on Kunz. “Both have references to Elijah; the heaven being torn asunder, and the Temple curtain is torn.”
“I implore you; your health is fragile.”
“I heard talk of a battle; at Döffingen,” [Doff-in-gen] Kunz spoke.
“You need not be concerned with such matters.”
“There were wounded men brought into the Nave.”
“A few.”
“Mass for the Dead.”
Kunz glanced across at Baver, who continued to dig in the garden. ‘I remember Matthew ‘Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth’. I remember the Text exactly.”
“Your scholarship is without question,” commends Harru.
“‘I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard. I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting’. This is from Isaiah.”
“You’ll have folk more than spit on you,” calls out Baver.
Harru does not react to Baver.
“I can do the work,” says Kunz.
“We have the Old Testament in the Germanic, and the work with Holy Writ progresses.”
“I can help if I have books.”
“It would not be wise.”
“To compare the Latin Vulgata [vuhl·gayt] with the Greek,” pressed Kunz.
“We have talk on this.”
“And King Wenceslaus.”[Wen-sis-laws]
“Safe; Bohemia [bow·hee·mee·uh] remains blessed.”
“These are foundation stories, Myth; not chronicle.”
Baver throws down his trowel which clatters on the paving.
“You go too far” exhales Harru, as he stands. “You will remain within the cloister.”
“Remain confined!”
Baver stands with his hands on his hips.
“To rest,” stresses Harru as he turns to go.
Baver looks toward Kunz as Brother Harru retreats up the stairs, and out of sight. Then walks over to Kunz. “I told you to be restrained.”
“I am reciting the Holy writ.”
“Truth and Right are different words.”
“I merely wish to teach.”
“But your study brings you no learning,” corrected Baver. “Recall that Mark ends the story with Jesus not seen, and the women ‘went out quickly, fled from the Tomb: for they trembled, and neither said they anything to any man: for they were afraid.’”
“There is a longer ending,” added Kunz. “And Matthew has Jesus speaks briefly with the women and Disciples. With Luke introducing that the Disciples ‘thinking they saw a ghost’
‘Which Luke counters by having Jesus express hunger and eating fish,” challenges Baver.
“A ghost might fray eating,” counters Kunz. “And John expands the story by having Thomas say ‘Unless I see the nail marks in his hands … I will not believe.’ The Gospels may be read as evolving understandings.”
Baver places his arms on Kunz shoulders and pulls him to face him. “And John introduces the ‘disciple whom Jesus loved’ or the ‘other disciple’, who believes without question.”
Baver pulls Kunz closer. “And recall that Simon-Peter asks what about the ‘other Disciple’, with Our Lord responding, ‘If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?’ Ought not we strive to have Faith and not doubt like Thomas?”
Kruz lent his head on Baver.
The two stood. A gentle rain emerges. Kunz realised he was standing alone and getting damp. He walked to the lodge and the small room where he slept; Slept and dreamed.
KUNZ picked the ripe tomatoes. His technique was to give the base a gentle twist and if they came away, they were ready to eat. The weather was overcast with showers looming. He placed the picked tomatoes in the fold of his cassock.
Brother Harru emerged from the stairs and walked toward the Nave.
Kunz stood. “Brother Harru,” he called. “Wait!”
Harru turned his head but continued walking away.
“Brother Harru. I want to talk.” Kunz walk ungainly, drooping the tomatoes. He stooped to pick them up. Then seeing Harru walking way, straightened and walk on.
“I’ve no time today,” called Harru, as he pulled open the heavy wooden door to the Nave and went inside.
Kunz picked up another tomato then dropped it as he followed after Harru. He reached the heavy door and heaved it open. He had been inside the Nave many times. He saw the thick stone columns, candle stands, stained glass windows, with dark shadows of Brothers moving at the far end. He went to step inside but stopped. In his mind he heard a command; “Verboten.” He could make out Brothers heaving the solid heavy pews to one side. Harru seemed to be directing that the Alter be pushed back to make more room. Harru suddenly looked up. He saw Kunz, strode to the door. “You must not be here,” he hollered at Kunz, and pulled the door shut in his face.
Kunz turned away, feeling embarrassed. He did not understand what he had done wrong. He saw Brother Baver holding a basket and picking up the dropped tomatoes. Baver kicked aside a tomato on the ground that had squashed. “What a waste of our effort,” he intoned.
“What is going on?” ask Kunz.
“We know what is going on,” sharply replied Baver. “But you pretend not to know.”
“I wished to speak with Harru. To explain.”
“What is it this time,” implored Baver as he picked over the tomatoes in the basket and toss a more pulped one back into the garden.
“I lay in my cot, listening to the rain on the roof. I like that sound,” said Kunz.
“And as you lay, you ponder Micah [Mi-cah] ‘For the son dishonoureth the father, the daughter riseth up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; a man's enemies are the men of his own house.,’” bemoaned Baver. “Then ‘Now the brother shall betray the brother to death, and the father the son; and children shall rise up against their parents, and shall cause them to be put to death,’ Mark 13” continued Baver. “They are the similar. There are so many phrases from the Hebrew Bible that Gospel of Mark puts into the mouth of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Well, it is almost as if Mark created the story from the Hebrew Bible!”
“Yes, yes,” said Kunz. “It is as if you and I have the same thoughts, are of the same mind.”
“Of course we are of the same mind!” Baver picked up another tomato that held some of its shape and placed it in the basket. “But it only you who does not realise that Brother Harru is a most learned man and reads what we do too.”
Kunz felt confused. A raid drop fell on face, then more rain drops.
Baver pushed the basket at Kunz. “Attend to your chores as I do mind.”
Baver walked out of the cloister as Kunz stood. He then realised he was getting wet and walked to the lodge.
OVERCAST with heavy showers continued, so it was not till the next week that Kunz resumed gardening. Other brothers came and went. More Men-at-Arms arrived, some wounded. They left Kunz to worked alone. Baver did not emerged that day. Nor the next, or the one after. Harru could be seen pacing the top of the brickworks. Kunz called to Harru. He was ignored. He called louder.
Harru looked down and wave Kunz away.
“Where is Baver?” called Kunz.
Harru frowned and walked along the brickworks and out of sight.
“What has happened to Baver,” Kunz cried in a hoarse voice.
Suddenly, the Abbot in Black Vest entered the Cloister. Kunz had not seen the Abbot in long time. A small group of Brothers followed along, chanting in prayer. Kunz stepped toward the group as if to follow. His pace was slow.
Harru looped down the stairs and stood between Kunz and the party. Then a couple of Knights, wearing white-linen-tunic embossed with the Red-cross and flowing capes entered the Cloister. And banishing swords; contrary to custom of those attending the Nave.
“The House of God is one of Peace,” called out Kunz.
More Knight solemnly filed passed him toward the Nave.
Harru hastened up to Kunz. He placed both hands on him and pushed him away.
Men-at-Arms and more Brothers come in and walked into the Nave.
Kunz struggled under Harru’s effort.
“Sit!” demanded Harru.
Kunz tried to push around to see. Then finally tiring he sat on a wooden bench.
“You must stay here,” implored Harru.
“What has happened?” bad Kunz.
“All is in order,” stated Harru.
“Where is Baver?”
“You know the answer to that question.” Harru turned and walked toward the steps.
“Tell me?” pleaded Kunz.
Harru bounded up the stairs.
Kunz gripped his fists. He felt enraged. He stood. He walked as fast as his unsteady gait allowed. He crossed the cloister. He laboured up the stairs, gasping for breath at the top. He walked along the stone passage and into the Chapter House. The foyer opened to darken hallways left and right. The surrounds seemed familiar. He remembered that the Apocryphy was located a few doors along. He would look for Harru there. He pulled open the door.
“I told you to say in the garden,” said Harru, who was sitting behind a small wooden desk.
Kunz eyes adjusted to the darkness. He saw shelves with various jars, boxes and books. He remembered being here too, but not the circumstances.
“What has happened to Baver!”
Harru sighed. “Why won’t you go.”
“I must find Baver.”
Harru stood and pulled out a ledger from a shelf. Laying it on the table, he carefully lifted through the heavy paper. Then ran his finger down the page. “Please, look,” he finally said.
Kunz eased himself around the table. Initially he eyes strained to focus. He then saw the line where Harru was pointing. He read Baver’s name and the age he had entered Ettal Abby.
“A child calligrapher,” explained Harru.
“I know,” said Kunz as he read on; education, accomplished in the Greek language, a novice, then a Brother.
Kunz murmured as he traced his finger along the page. “Who is Lefwen?”
“Your sister; she came with you.”
“I don’t remember a sister.”
“She died young. Your family; well, there was the pestilence.”
“What did my sister look like?”
“That was before my time. You have spoken of her often. You told me she was graceful. And bossy.”
Kunz saw dates, duties. “I remember the Scriptorium,” he murmured.
“You were Principal scribe, the Master. You supervised the boys with the fine illumination of texts.”
“What's this about Verzeichnis?” [ver-tas-ness] Kunz asked.
“That must challenge your memory. The preparation of Wenceslaus [Wen-sis-laws] Bible; the Gospels. We needed references to the meanings of words, phrases in the Greek. A complex directory was required.”
“Have I asked after Baver before?”
“Every so often.”
Kunz read the final lines; Misplacing items, forgetting names, repeating himself, unable to dress, impulsive, tempers, distress, delusions, apprehension, not eating, awkward gait.
“Might I ask you some questions?” said Harru, as he moved Kunz to sit in a chair.
Kunz grimaced.
“Where are you?”
“Ettal Abby.”
“When did you arrive here?”
“I was a child, seven years of age.”
“King Wenceslaus IV; [Wen-sis-laws] where is his Court?”
“Have you ever been to Prague?”
Kunz thought. He knew about Prague. The Cathedral was being rebuilt and would be the grandest in all Christendom. There were great scholars. There was something else.
“No, I have never been to Prague.”
“You helped the Court scholars with their work; with translating Gospels from Greek.”
“Helped; How?”
“What is your name?”
He knew the answer but struggled to say it.
“Brother Baver,” he eventually said.
Harru smiled. “Wonderful. You are remembering more.”
“Am I ill.”
“You have been very ill. I did not feel you would recover.”
Brother Baver slumped and held his hands in his head.
“You are tired,” stated Harru. “You must rest.”
“I remember. I remember the Lord’s Supper: ‘And as they did eat, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and broke it, and gave to them, and said, Take, eat: this is my body.’”
“You must rest.”
“‘And he took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them: and they all drank of it. And he said unto them, This is my blood.’”
“Please, Brother Baver. You must not burden yourself.”
“And Saint Paul said ‘For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread.’”
“Brother Baver! Do not speak further!”
“St Paul said ‘received from the Lord’, but St Paul was not a disciple. He never says that he met the Lord or even met any Disciples until after he had begun Preaching for three years, travelled to the desert.”
“No more, I command.”
Brother Baver moved to speak, but his mouth twisted and no words came out.
“Let me help you stand” said Harru. “I want to show you something.” Then he reached out and gently helped Brother Baver stand up. The two of them walked into the corridor, with Harru’s arm under Brother Baver’s.
As they emerged, they heard loud voices and clanging metal from the Cloister. Another Brother scurried to a windows. “The Knights. They bow to the Holy Mother,” exclaimed The Brother as he crossed himself.
“A Noble Tradition,” observed Harru. “Come with me. They have their duties, and we have ours.”
“I so admired the Knights as a child. I wanted to wear the Red Crossed Tunic,” panted Brother Baver as he walked.
“You were fortunate not to,” chivied Harru as they turned a corner. “Knights led a savage life.” They step downstairs. Harru open a heavy paneled door and ushered Brother Baver inside.
Inside were rows of high desks. There was light from windows to the cloister. There were also batches of candles to lighten the room. The Brothers and boys at their desks turn toward the visitors. Harru bade them continue, and they returned to their work.
“The scriptorium,” Harru proclaimed.
Brother Baver's attention was drawn to rows of wooden shelves along one wall. They had slats sitting at an angle with written plates: the alphabet in Latin. There were leafs of paper in many of the slates.
“I made those,” Brother Baver smiled at the memory of working the wood.
“It is over here I want you to see,” said Harru as he guided Brother Baver to the other end of the scriptorium.
At that end was a similar array of selves, but here the alphabet was in Greek.
Brother Baver stared. He recalled arranging the shelves. But nothing else came to him.
“I.” He paused.
“Brother Baver, look” said Harru. “What do you remember?”
“Saint Paul in the Epistles said ‘He received from the Lord that we should break the bread, drink the blood,’” Brother Baver spoke allowed.
“What else do you remember,” implored Harru.
“St Paul describes no events or stories from or about Jesus or his family and followers.”
“’For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate’” recited Harru from heart. “‘he suffered death and was buried.’”
“St Paul received the Eucharist from revelation,” proclaimed Brother Baver.
“‘On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures,’” spoke Harru louder. “‘he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.’” He crossed Himself.
Brother Baver breath in and out audibly. “What am I supposed to remember.”
“You built the selves to place references of Greek words. Greek words from the sacred texts. Where they were written, the phrases. Not just the Scared texts, but Homer, the Odyesses and Greek poems and stories.”
“I did this?”
“You set the Brothers to reading; to extract references from all manner of texts. You wrote to other Abbies. Sent list of words to follow up.”
Brother Baver felt restlessness. He wiped his brow.
“Then when the Court scholars from Prague sought help with Greek translations; you could use this catalogue to provide answers. This speeded the work on the Testament.”
Brother Baver read along the tags: Alpha, Beta, Gamma; skipped to Kappa, Lambo, and then Pi. He lifted out one of the pieces of paper from the shelves and read the fine script.
Paradosis [para-do-sis] – an instruction, handed down instruction, tradition.
Polybius [poly-bi-us], surrendering a city.
Plato Law book, substance of teaching
2 Thessalonians, instruction

“Know ye the hand?” asked Harru.
Baver shook his head.
“It is your own.”
In flash of remembrance, Brother Baver whimpered “Zeus passed judgement, Hector must die.”
“No!” said Harru.
“Pilate passed judgement Jesus must die. Mark 15.”
“No!” repeated Harru.
“Hector refused mixed wine offered to relieve his pain. Jesus refused wine mixed with myrrh.”
“No, no, no!”
“Hector called for Deiphobus [Dee-of-phus] but he had fled. Hector knew he would be killed because the Gods had abandoned him.”
Harru stared.
“I remember these texts; the parallel with Homer and Christs’ stories.”
“Commonplace stories,” asserted Harru.
“I don’t understand,” pleaded Brother Baver.
“You gamble heresy.”
“I translated.”
“They burn translators.”
“For my Faith.”
The door on the far side of the Scriptorium opened and in walked the Abbot. The Brothers and Boys turned to face him and bowed their heads.
The Abbot grumbled a greeting. Then turned to face Brother Harru and Brother Baver; who had also bowed their heads.
“Brother Harru, your services are needed. I fear more gallant Men will be requiring your ministration.”
“I shall prepare the Parlour as an infirmary.” Harru dipped his head as to leave.
“How is Brother Baver faring?” inquired The Abbot.
“I ought to escort him to lodge?” answered Harru.
The Abbot moved toward Baver and placed a hand on Baver’s shoulder. “We could use your intellect.”
Baver shivered.
“The Septuagint [sept-tua-gint] scripts have issues when compared with the Hebraic [Heb-ra-ic] texts,” said the Abbot as Baver sought to pull away. But the Abbot held him close. “We have been commissioned to prepare a new translation. I confide that I struggled in my studies as a young Brother. I am more suited to the bureaucracy.”
Baver sought to speak, but the Abbot held his hand over his mouth.
“I laboured with the readings the Sacred Texts.” The Abbott stared into Baver’s eyes. “As in the Psalms ‘my god, why have you forsaken me,’” intoned The Abbot.
The Abbot held Baver close. “’My god, why have you forsaken me,’ Mark 15” continued The Abbot.
Baver face twisted in agony as the Abbot held him tighter. “Many learned men have read the Sacred Texts over eons.” continued The Abbot. “And learned to hold to the teachings of Our Elders.”
Tears ran from Baver’s eyes.
The Abbot looked toward Brother Harru, “Prepare the Nave for the maimed too.” He let his hand slip from Baver. “We strive for common text to unify God’s people, while Prices bashed each other’s heads to a pulp!”
“I will Your Eminence,” answered Harru.
Baver continued to weep.
“I want women from the village to help wash out the blood and gore,” added The Abbot.
“Women in the Nave?” queried Harru.
“The Sabbath is made for Man, not Man for the Sabbath.’ The Abbott remained standing before Baver.
Finally, he turned toward Harru. “He remains silent. I am relieved. Less blood may seep into the soils.
The Abbott straightens. He glowers at the other Brothers and Boys, to convey his order for their silence.
“Take Brother Baver to the lodge, then attend to your duties,” commands The Abbott. He then proceeds out the door.
“Come,” says Harru as he places an arm over Bavers shoulder. As other times, the two men walked slowly together.
Abby Ettal, Bavaria was founded in 1330 as a bequest from Emperor Ludwig. It is one of the most popular and ornate Abbies in Germany. The site was on an important trade route between Italy and Augsburg. The foundation included both monastery, and barracks of the Teutonic Knights. By time of King Wenceslaus IV (1361 –1419) [Wen-sis-laws] the lands had been swathed by the Black Death, papal succession crises, rebellions, and wars between princes and towns. King Wenceslaus commissioned a Bible into vernacular languages. While parts of the Hebrew Bible were completed, the Gospels were not begun and the Wenceslas Bible never completed. It would not be till Luther’s Bible published in early 1500s, taking advantage of emerging printing technology that an accessible text in German language became available. This spread of standard written language was to solidify German culture, and economic and military power. 
submitted by Fluellen60 to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]

Seeking composer for a D&D actual play podcast theme

Hello composer! I am looking for someone who can help me out with a podcast theme.
The game is set in Eberron - for those unfamiliar, we have described it as fantasy meets pulp meets noir. Magic is widely available, with most people knowing at least a cantrip or two, but rarely are people able to cast over fifth level spells. Set on the continent of Khorvaire, the game will follow a party of three as they navigate adolesence, grief, politics, and conspiracy in a rapidly developing world.
The game is set four years after The Mourning - a cataclysmic event that blanketed a whole country in a layer of mist and brought forth unspeakable horrors to the land - at the culmination of a war lasting over 100 years. The war ended not at a peaceful resolution, but out of fear - with the warring nations afraid they would be next, a ceasefire was called, and the continent is in an unstable peacetime. Halfings ride dinosaurs in the plains of the east, while demon tribes and ancient evils dominate the lands of the west.
Our thoughts on the music are as follows; we would like elements of general fantasy themes, but would also love heavier inspiration from swing and jazz music styles. The piece should be up to 45 seconds long, ideally with a solid introduction befitting a podcast.
We thought that it could start with a sweeping fantasy opening, and after a few seconds, cut to a more modern, swing/jazz style while maintaining a consistent melody/motif throughout. It would be used both as an introduction and end piece, playing at either end of an episode.
You will receive full payment, full credition, and may retain the rights to the music. As we are a small group at the moment, we would not be able to offer royalties, but we are willing to negotiate commercial licensing.
I look forward to hearing from you - if possible, please provide a link to your portfolio, and feel free to ask any questions! I would appreciate a price guideline in the comments if at all possible, but I understand if you would prefer to save price discussion for DMs.
EDIT: I am absolutely blown away by the response this has gotten in the last almost 24 hours, thank you so much for boosting this and submitting your portfolios! I'm going to go over everyone's portfolios with the others I'm working with on this project, and hopefully I can get back to everyone as soon as possible. Thank you all again, the response has been amazing!
submitted by AHoneyman to composer [link] [comments]

Amongst the Bones of Heroes XIX

First | Previous | Next

Festivities within the Nomadic Shepherd peaked. For most of the day, Patriarch Tov left anything concerning the Eldest’s needs to his subordinates and used his time on other matters.
Of course, he would be amiss if he evaded the celebration. He had made rounds around the vessels of the entire fleet, giving speeches, and toasting with officers, representatives, and liaisons.
Hopping from capital vessel to cruiser to destroyer to cargo haulers and back.
He congratulated the dutiful pilots and captain and consoled sailors who lost loved ones to the deep dark.
Patriarch Tov made sure to partake in the Song of Solace, a cherished part of the celebration hosted by the Eternal Choir aboard their personal vessel, the Feathered Flute. Brother Valantesh personally orchestrated the church’s choir with the fleet's best singers.
The song’s hymns were dedicated to comforting those who have lost, easing the burdens of the thousands of attending sailors and the thousands more listening in via video. At the crux of the celebration, many in the fleet found peace as the choir’s melodies and voices pierced their souls and massaged their minds and hearts.
Afterward, the Nomadic Shepherd opened its doors to music, dance, art, food, and drink.
Both human and galactic cultures mingled and played around each other like two dancers like a waltz, passionately moving on a stage amongst the stars.
Sailors watched movies like Pulp Fiction, Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings while enjoying snacks of popped corn with butter sauce and soda.
Dance contests, karaoke, video games. Even human sports proliferated.
The bulky amphibian onin thoroughly enjoyed wrestling and rugby.
The lizard-like and aggressive ruzians tried their claws at more contact-heavy sports like boxing, football, and hockey.
As for the kurksanns, their compound eyes were basically cheats in jet fighter simulation games. And their four hands were a devil to beat in other videogames.
Large halls were cleared for these games and many compartments were retrofitted for virtual-reality capsules or gaming computers, and yet it seemed long queues weren’t disappearing anytime soon.
The overabundance of sports, both virtual and physical, almost broke the backs of the coordinators if it weren’t for the Eldest’s careful instruction. Even then it was still rough and rudimentary.
But the enjoyment couldn’t be any higher. Roars of cheering, the raising of fists, and the stomping of hooves, talons, and feet echoed around the hull of the Nomadic Shepherd like the beating drums of war.
And with how far some of the competitions and games went, especially when ruzians and kurksanns were involved, some of the attendees wondered if there was a difference.
And so the hundreds of thousands of sailors of the Third Fleet rotated, enjoying the spectacle in celebration of finding the main goal of their expedition, toothy grins, inebriated mugs, and hearty laughter permeated the halls.
Patriarch Tov himself enjoyed the games on offer. He had to stop after losing himself for nearly two hours playing Ace Combat. The experience made him nostalgic for the time he piloted similarly intimate war chariots in his fighting years, though they were obviously of the space variety.
“What phenomenal music for such a simple aviation simulator.” The patriarch hummed. The soundtrack still thumping in his chest and playing in his mind.
Nevertheless, after reluctantly pulling himself out of it, a server stopped in front of him, presenting him with a plate of bite-sized snacks, human and otherwise.
He politely declined. The patriarch couldn’t eat another morsel and was in no mood to artificially empty his stomach like a certain someone he suspected. As much as the cuisines from around the galaxy danced around his nostrils, enticing him to take a bite, his stomach immediately sounded its protest.
Fortunately, there were no complaints when it came to refreshments. His personal carrier drone always carried a filled glass of a different drink anytime he wishes to quench his parched throat.
Eventually, the flames of celebration trailed off before launching its evening phase. Alcoholic beverages were served in greater abundance, and milder legal substances were put on offer for a discounted price.
Illegal varieties were prevalent, and even though Patriarch Tov and his officers scoured the fleet for these black market goods, it was impossible to completely deal with every item.
At the very least, for this day, he hoped his sailors would keep it in their rooms.
As the mood lights changed to a cooler, dimmer blue, the booming music of human disco, techno, and hip-hop took center stage. Depending on one preference, they could visit any number of venues where live bands attempted to play their variations of human genres or presented their own covers of these hit songs.
Patriarch Tov wasn’t too enthusiastic about such rowdy events. Though his species were communal, they preferred a more relaxed lifestyle, though that was just the majority.
As the crew danced and rocked their hearts out, soon enough, the combination of fiery emotions, drinks, and other influences lead to other things.
While some venues allowed for such public displays of indecency, the administrators of the fleet strictly enforced that the halls and other areas remained… clean to the eyes. Nevertheless, sailors held long enough until they retreated to their residences. Bodies dancing to a different, intimate, and passionate tune.
Patriarch Tov and Admiral Yan found each other along a corridor at this hour, both heading to a certain penthouse.
As the patriarch spotted a few figures leaving the bombastic concerts still playing their music and retreating into their rooms for their personal activities, his heart was doused in melancholy. His shoulders and antennae drooped as his mind went to the love of his life whom he left back home.
He focused on his second as they walked the carpeted halls of the residence district, primarily the one dedicated to important guests.
“Admiral, how goes the quantum tower?” Patriarch Tov asked both pairs of arms behind his back.
“You’ll be pleasantly surprised that it's ahead of schedule, patriarch. By the leading foreman’s calculations, it should be done by tomorrow.” The admiral explained sending a data packet to her patriarch.
“That is pleasant news, I assume it's the Eldest and her drones that we have to thank for such speed?” The patriarch asked as he skimmed through the report. What would normally take a month to erect a tower of this quality had been cut down to a day.
“Correct, my lord. I have to say, those construction drones nearly scare me with how fast they did it. Like insects building a hive, they're just printing the tower from what I'm told. The foreman was embarrassed to say the drones are doing most of the work.” Admiral Yan chuckled.
“I can only imagine. And what they ended up building is so far beyond our expertise.” The patriarch responded.
It mattered little in the end. Though Scholar Yulane would have yet another structure to drool over. At the very least he could speak with the other fleets and civilized space.
Patriarch Tov filed those thoughts away for the moment before moving to a more urgent concern. He only heard bits and pieces from his sailors, the chaos that had ensued because of this event. He dreaded the possible ramifications that had been set loose on the fleet.
“So, tell me, admiral. What are the damages?” The patriarch asked.
“Well, my lord…” Admiral Yan paused, opening her tablet before showing him a long list.
Patriarch Tov merely glanced before looking away in haste, his chest tight.
“Admiral, summarize it, I’m afraid I can’t read this.” The patriarch spoke, shaking his head.
“By your will, my lord.” The admiral cleared her throat, “Our security personnel, ship administrators, and moderators kept a close eye on the target for the entirety of the festivities, they’ve reported as such: The Eldest has directly caused 51 sailors various degrees of alcohol poisoning; accidentally set fire to one of the cafeterias; traded multitudes of low, medium, and even high-grade narcotics; indirectly caused a power outage across hydroponics 13-F; broke into one of our supercomputer silos to make some ‘modifications’ in order to play a video game called Crisis.”
The admiral paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“Punched an officer in the face and broke his jaw for being too frisky when he searched her for stolen goods; introduced a toxic chemical called capsaicin and laced it in food before giving it to a sailor, who then had to be admitted to the nearest clinic, when questioned she simply stated that he would be fine, before summarily leaving. She has been detained, questioned, and released around six times ever since the celebrations began before our security department simply gave up and focused on damage control. And those were just the major offenses, patriarch.”
When Admiral Yan finally stopped, Patriarch Tov had to summon every inch of willpower to stop the incoming migraine from pounding his head. It took him a few minutes of deep breathing meditation and rubbing his face before he finally calmed down.
“By the Choir, I shouldn’t have left her alone…” He mumbled, “How is the crew feeling, admiral? Please tell me they haven’t started a revolt because of her actions.”
“Actually, patriarch… Surprisingly, morale has never been higher.” Yan replied.
“I’m sorry, what?” Patriarch Tov faced his second, mandibles gaping wide, “H-how?”
“Well, we interviewed her… victims. And they all replied that they voluntarily partook in her shenanigans. They say she was the life of the party, she introduced things like the congo line, beer pong, crowd surfing, and various other party games. In fact, some of the crew actively hindered our security from pursuing the Eldest multiple times. It’s rather absurd actually, but I guess the Eldest’s antics resonate with the rank-and-file.” Admiral Yan reported.
“That is… odd... but good, actually.” A heavy burden lifted from the expedition leader’s shoulders. He was initially fearful that letting the Eldest loose in such a manner would cause problems with his sailors. But it seemed that breaking the rules was something the android woman and the grunts had in common.
“Well, I guess we can leave that for now. I’ll read the full report in my stateroom before slumber. In any case, I’ll be having a private word with the Eldest. I’ll leave you to your duties, Admiral Yan, have a good evening.” Patriarch Tov spoke, nodding his antennae to his second.
“Choir bring you good rest, patriarch.” Admiral Yan spoke before turning around and leaving her patriarch in the wide corridor.
The patriarch continued on the opulent hall, verdant potted plants, framed paintings and statues of glories past, soothing tunes playing in the air, doors on each side spaced far from each other to accommodate the extravagant luxuries reserved for elite guests who visited his flagship.
It was the largest penthouse at the far end where the Eldest retreated after a day of enjoyment. He approached the prismatic plated door and the two guards standing sentry on either side, saluting each of them.
Before he could knock, however, the door wooshed open and Patriarch Tov had to quickly move to the side as a number of beings exited the Eldest’s penthouse. The embarrassed, bedraggled, and half-naked sailors and officers gave hushed and awkward greetings to their leader as they stumbled out.
Patriarch Tov greeted back impassively, though inwardly he could only groan as plant-like frae, ruzians, iexians, kurskanns, and even some of the stranger races aboard his vessel rushed, flew, or slithered out, totaling at least a dozen.
Once they had left, Patriarch Tov made his way inside, eyes bombarded with the absolute ruin that was the penthouse living room, scratches on the walls, torn carpets, and wrecked furniture. Moving forward, the bedroom was in an even worse state with sheets on the floor, the mattress upturned and the presence of… fluids.
It didn’t take long for him to spot the Eldest past the glass doors separating the bedroom and the balcony.
He made sure to give any suspicious areas a wide arc, ignoring the odor that permeated the space.
The Eldest took no apparent notice as the glass doors quietly opened and Patriarch Tov slowly walked to her side. The penthouse balcony looked over the expansive commercial district, still in its nightly activities as sailors strode merrily on its streets, the deck’s ceiling simulated the starry night sky and a beautiful aurora.
Patriarch Tov rested his arms on the railing, breathing in the nightly air, the fading notes of spice, human fireworks, and roasting meats flitting through the air, before glancing at the Eldest.
The robed android leaned against the railing, head resting against her palm while her other hand lazily swirled a glass of dark blue wine. Her black silk robe covered her modesty, the twinkling lights of the stars and the fake moon reflecting on her exposed synthetic skin.
Her hair was frazzled, languidly tied back into a bun. Her eyes stared listlessly, half-open, at the scenic view below her.
Patriarch Tov’s heart belonged to another, but he had to admit that the Eldest was beautiful, like a painting birthed into existence. He recalled the small talk he made with her during the banquet, the Eldest explaining that her form was a perfect replica of her original android body, before the war against the void horrors.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft sigh leaving her lips.
“Say something, patriarch. Or stare, I don’t care either way.” The Eldest spoke before taking a sip of her wine.
“Apologies…” Patriarch Tov paused, thinking of a way to, as the Eldest mentioned in passing, break the ice.
“So… those sailors who left your room…”
The Eldest raised an eyebrow as she shifted to face the patriarch. Seeing that the Eldest remained silent, Patriarch Tov continued.
“There were… a lot… I mean—meant no judgment, of course. I don’t presume to—” His stuttering was interrupted by a light giggle, he focused toward the Eldest, shoulders shaking.
“You can stop, patriarch. They were just some friends I made during the festivities. I thought we’d end the night with a little… spice.” She chuckled before her mouth twitched, “Or at least tried to. It was fun in the beginning, really fun. But…”
She let out a tired sigh slumping on the railing.
“I couldn’t get into it. They’re wonderful interesting people, so I… let them have their fun while I… watched, I guess...” The Eldest stared at the district below, the glows of her eye dim, before she took a big gulp of her wine.
“Oh, that is… unfortunate.” Patriarch Tov parsed his thoughts, careful with his choice of words, “But I thank you for being an uplifting presence to my people.”
The Eldest scoffed, “Yeah, sure… Your people. They remind me so much of humanity that I… lost myself, and enjoyed myself for the first time in a century. For a moment, I just forgot everything. And just lived.”
The android glanced toward the patriarch, icy blue eyes staring at his before a coy smile crept up her face.
“You know, I said I wasn’t interested in married men, but, I can change my mind. What do you say, patriarch?” The Eldest spoke, her robe slowly dropping down to expose her shoulders.
Patriarch Tov’s antennae twitched and a second later he shook his head. “I’ll have to decline Eldest.”
The Eldest shrugged, “Eh, worth a try. Though it probably wouldn’t have worked out either. Just another reminder of why I’ve sworn off sex…” She sighed.
Her quiet tone prompted the patriarch’s curiosity, “Why is that?”
The Eldest narrowed her eyes and focused on her near-empty glass. She pursed her lips and her eyebrows twitched.
After a minute of silence, excluding the background noise and indistinguishable chatter of the district below, she responded.
“Because I belong… belonged to someone else.” She paused a heavy breath escaping her, condensing the air before her into a wispy fog. “We depended on each other, two halves stitched together, orbiting like binary stars. I owed him so much, my entire existence. And I could have made him king if he wanted, but he declined. He was my lover, my equal, my maker… my heart. He was everything, and—”
Her hand clutched onto the railing, grip tight like a vise. A pained expression washed over her face.
“Eldest!” Patriarch Tov rushed toward her in a panic, only to be stopped by her raised palm.
“Patriarch, shut it. You asked, let me… answer.” She gritted her teeth, interrupted only by sporadic bouts of hollow laughter. Her grip tightened, crushing the metal railing.
“Look at me… Most powerful existence in the universe, the power of world-ending weapons in the palm of my hands. And it's questions that crack me. What a fucking joke. Queen of nothing. I’m just made of porcelain in the end…”
Patriarch Tov could only stand rooted on the spot, staring as tears trailed down the Eldest’s blue cheeks.
“I didn’t think we’d end up like this. We could have survived. We should have made it out. He should have…”
A tortured roar escaped her mouth, it rang in the patriarch’s ears like nails screeching on metal and he recoiled. A moment later the wine glass she held onto shattered in her grip. Shards piercing her synthetic flesh and blue coolant dripping out like a spigot.
The Eldest took no notice, her icy blue eyes emblazoned with wrath, her glare piercing the patriarch’s soul.
“It’s all their fault! They ruined everything, murdered, and destroyed. Monsters. We were at our golden age, I had everything I wanted, and the stars were ours to grasp. And I was too weak and fucking pathetic to stop it!" She shouted fists clenching tighter, the shards of glass digging deeper into her palm.
"If I had just sacrificed more at the start, convinced my siblings to become a gestalt intelligence sooner, we could have built faster, fought better. Instead of holding onto our useless individuality. Instead of clutching onto some vague desire to stay… to be…” The Eldest exhaled loudly, pacing around the balcony in a daze.
"To be... to be..."
“Human?” Patriarch Tov spoke. The Eldest's eyes shot wide, fury filling them.
“Fuck you!” She cursed, moving forward and shoving the patriarch. “Being human ruined us. It's everything I want to protect, everything I cherish. But it holds me back from doing my fucking job. I can't be human but I want to be. It tears my mind. My existence is torture! My trip here only reminded me how much I lost. All of this, the food, the music, the people, it replaces nothing. Earth's soil is eternally poisoned, its wildlife extinct. There'll be no more new albums, no new movies, no new memories. There's... I can’t… It's all my... I—”
The Eldest stumbled onto the floor, the Patriarch immediately rushed to her aid and was thankfully not denied. The android’s frame quaked, her fingers reached to her head, nails tearing through skin and pulling hair.
“Eldest, I—” The patriarch pressed onto his temple, sending a myriad of messages to specialists, “We’ll get you help, Eldest. You need healing!”
In a quick motion, the Eldest threw the Patriarch off of her.
“I don’t want your help. I’m not some broken thing. Everything was fine and numb before you and your fleet came here. I have my own healing, and it's a thousand times more enjoyable than what you have planned. Goodbye.” The Eldest sneered at the patriarch a final time, before the light of her eyes disappeared, her android body slumping lifelessly onto the balcony floor.
Patriarch Tov could only stare at the empty shell, mind in turmoil as his guards, Admiral Yan, and others rushed into the penthouse.
submitted by GirogiArts to HFY [link] [comments]

Share Market का सम्पूर्ण ज्ञान  Nifty  Share Market  Dr ...

quantstart forex la monita natalia oreiro elenco boppy pillow death moteur 557k0f genentech girls volleyball olympics 2020 genouillere gardien de football decathlon carvin r600 owners manual stefan friedrichsdorf duurzame food verpakkingen 2e2 group ltd libro prepa abierta apreciacion estetica musica hong-league windir ending lyrics translation wojciech piescik budget 2020 uk car tax 8525-iii ... > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

[index] [3670] [3484] [22532] [27115] [9838] [859] [10416] [8284] [26050] [2618]

Share Market का सम्पूर्ण ज्ञान Nifty Share Market Dr ...

In This Video Dr Vivek Bindra Is Explaining How Share Market Works, And When To Invest and When To Divest In Share Market...To Connect With AryaamoneyCall - 992...