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mynamesaplant · 2 months

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Just a Dragon in its Den

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's submas hc. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word. This particular story looks more into Drayden, the twins, and the tension that has built between them. This takes place right before they make it to Opelucid. Enjoy another bad phonetically written accent! One other thing to note: Kaita is called "mother" by her sons and Lucielle is "mom".

Little piece of my own hc: The particular Haxorus that helped raise Emmet and Ingo is informally known as Darling by everyone bc they heard Drayden referring to 'darling' after battles and thought it was her name.

Thank you to @ingo-ingoing-ingone for being my beta reader. I appreciate you immensely, my friend.

You can find my series of Critter inspired works on AO3.

Don't like to read on Tumblr? Find the stand alone piece here on AO3.

Enjoy!~

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Sunlight still managed to get into his eyes even with the canvas canopy over their heads…

Ingo pried open a bleary eye, scanning from his left to his right. A moment ticked by before he flopped his head back down.

It was just him, and his waxy partner half-way fused to his sleep shirt.

He could hear his best friends talking just outside the tent flaps, the sizzling of oil in a pan which made him jerk upright. Litwick was launched as he was quick to change and get outside before they burned a hole in the tent… again.

Ingo loved Emmet and Elesa, but they couldn’t cook without supervision. They could barely cook with supervision.

“Make way!”

Emmet and Elesa jumped out of the way as Ingo barreled out from the dark interior of the tent. Quick to relinquish stove duty to his twin, Emmet shot Elesa a smug grin that she merely harrumphed at.

“Told you that would get him up.”

“You two are cruel,” Ingo tried to say through a yawn, but it only came out as a garbled noise. However, the intention seemed to come across just fine.

“We’re not cruel! You sleep like a log!”

He ignored Elesa, groggily shifting the bacon that was just starting to spatter and hiss in distress.

You jerk! I was sleeping!

A displeased crackle and spark came from the tent flap, Litwick's wax running with the intensity of her lavender inferno.

“Apologies, Litwick. I was terrified our tent would turn to cinders if these two were manning the camp stove any longer.”

The flame atop Litwick’s head, at the moment burning high and hot, slowly began to whittle down into a manageable flicker. Ingo stooped, scooping his Pokémon up carefully, and setting her near the small propane tank that fueled the stove, the Ghost Pokémon grumbling the whole time as her eyes fluttered shut. This was a new gift. Their mother heard from Uncle Drayden that they were on their journey through Unova and she had purchased this from a camp store in Galar; in her letter she suggested that it might be useful. Camping was very big there apparently; she had seen many people using this model of stove, and she saw no issues with twelve-year-olds using flammable materials like propane.

Their mother, Kaita, rarely sent them anything and, when she did, it was usually impractical or downright dangerous. The boys had stared at the box waiting for them at the Poké Mart in Lacunosa Town, perplexed when they saw their mother’s name with the return address for a hostel in Galar. How she had even known that they were going to be in Lacunosa before heading to Opelucid was anyone’s guess, but they took the package and attempted to call the number on the postcard, stuffed in hastily judging by the torn edges and messy scrawl, but the man with a thick Galarian accent told them she had left just the other day.

Somehow that was unsurprising to Emmet and Ingo.

“So, what’s on tap for today?”

“We should reach Opelucid by noon,” Emmet said, pulling his knees to his chest as he watched Tynamo flitter around the Dwebble that had been following them since they had departed from Route 18.

The little crustacean had been tottering after them at a distance, disappearing into its shell when anyone was close, but joined in on the fun with the other Pokémon on occasion.

“That’s where Drayden works, right?”

“Correct, we will be visiting him.”

That seemed to give Elesa pause, looking from one twin to the other.

“Are you sure?” Emmet shifted, throwing a glance toward Ingo who minutely shook his head. Though the motion was subtle, Elesa didn’t fail to catch it – she was used to their rhythms and motions. For whatever reason, they were uncomfortable. “We don’t have to stop by the gym if-”

“That is very much appreciated, Elesa.”

“Yup, verrrry nice of you.”

“But everyone knows us in Opelucid. Even if we don’t go to the gym, he’ll know we’re there.”

Against her side, Elesa felt Emmet shudder and mutter something about old ladies. She wasn’t sure what that meant either, but she assumed it wasn’t good.

“What about old ladies?”

“All of the octogenarians like to sit in the plaza by the gym to read their papers, feed the Pidoves, gossip, and play chess. You must pass by them if you want to get to the Pokémon Center. They like to joke that they are Opelucid’s stalwart sentinels and they… tattle on us to uncle when we got into mischief. It is why we asked to stay in Anville Town most days.”

Ingo did not add that by that point, Drayden had stopped asking and would be gone for most of the day. It had only been when they were very young, usually following hand-in-hand in their uncle’s wake and scurrying behind his Haxorus when strangers got too close to them.

“They pinched our cheeks… Fingers like Kingler claws.”

Emmet was the one to actually answer their friend’s question, subconsciously rubbing his cheek as if it had just been pinched. After the first few times that had happened, Darling realized that the twins did not like being touched without permission, and the Dragon Pokémon would insert herself between Emmet and Ingo and the elder men and women. She would rumble out a warning when people got too close, flashing her glinting tusks despite the fact that they were covered with thick Bouffalant leather to prevent any accidents.

Only until Drayden commanded her to stop, she was aggressive with any strangers or anyone that the twins seemed uncomfortable with. At the very least, Emmet and Ingo were convinced that Darling would be happy to see them.

Breakfast was a drawn-out affair. Each bite seemed to be smaller and smaller as if to prolong the inevitable meetup. Packing up and hiking to the city was also glacially slow, Emmet and Ingo dragging their feet as they neared the dragon’s den. Elesa stopped them just as they passed the first few residences, looking them over with steely eyes that the twins shrank away from.

“We can turn back now.”

“No… We mustn’t delay any further.”

Ingo insisted, forging ahead, and chewing his bottom lip to shreds with the all-consuming anxiety that he and Emmet collectively felt.

Opelucid was an overwhelming place. It radiated an unexplainable energy that seemed to loom over all those who entered her walls. They remembered the streets well. Ingo’s eyes fixed on the place where Emmet had tripped and scraped his knee, crying and oozing blood on the whole walk back to the gym. Emmet nervously flicked his eyes to the place where a mother yelled at him and Ingo when her teenage son had been bullying them – he’d called them oblivious, creepy, unsettling… Emmet swallowed hard, reaching for Ingo’s shirt tail, and gripping it tight, rubbing his thumb over the fabric methodically.

Ingo’s hand reached back and offered his brother’s wrist a light squeeze, trying to reassure him even if he didn’t feel so sure himself.

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Despite doing everything in their power, the trio could not avoid the parties of the elderly that seemed to stalk the streets of the city. There was no escape from the simpering words and the ruddy cheeks from pinching fingers, the kids barely escaped with their cheeks and dignity intact.

The doors to the gym hissed open, sounding more like an angry Zweilous bickering over a meal than the squeak from the friction of the moving belt. They moved into the atrium tentatively, the twins bunched together while Elesa stood off to one side, eyeing them worriedly as a young woman leaned over the counter. Thankfully, Emmet and Ingo didn’t recognize her, which must have meant she was new. Her accent confirmed it.

“Welcome ta the Opelucid Gym, are ya here ta challenge the gym leadah?”

“Ah, no. We, uh, we are here to see him.”

Ingo tried hard not to stammer and failed miserably, somewhat baffled by the heaviness of the Castelian accent rolling off her tongue. The young woman pursed her maroon-stained lips before turning her gaze to the computer before her. There was some clicking, some squinting between the monitor and the two boys, and she finally picked up a walkie-talkie that Emmet and Ingo knew was there.

“Mista Drayden, there are some… youts here ta see ya.”

There was a pause.

“Send them in, Audrey.”

They tried not to think about how irritated their uncle already sounded, instead choosing to focus on the awe on Elesa’s face as she looked around the gym. Her blue eyes quite nearly bulged out of her skull when they walked under winding bridges, gasped at the beautiful carvings of dragons that adorned the whole facility, and she oohed and aahed at the way the placed made the perfect mechanical maze to make every challenger prove their mettle before squaring up to the dragon master himself.

They traveled up the ramps without hesitation, Emmet and Ingo giving appropriate responses to the gym trainers who recognized them. A few of the older trainers stopped the trio, cooing over the twins who tried not to cringe at the unwanted touches and comments that only served to make them more anxious about their inevitable encounter.

The last ramp up to the arena was just ahead and Ingo took a deep breath, Emmet being the one to release – a frankly inadequate coping mechanism when faced with something like this. Before either could begin the ascent, Elesa leapt before them, and gave them an appraising look, the fierce blue tinged with a soft concern.

Her best friends did not act this way.

“Spill. What’s the matter?”

She didn’t give them a chance to look at each other as she inserted herself between them, there would be no silent agreement on how they would deflect her questions. Emmet flinched back, finding the seam of his bandana, and running over it with the flat of his thumb; Tynamo buzzed softly below his chin which was just as comforting for the young man. Ingo, the one directly under Elesa’s scrutiny, was standing firm – although, if one looked closely, they could see his knees shaking beneath the cuff of his shorts. He could feel it in his back and shoulders, so heavy from the anxiety that it was dragging him face first towards the ground like it was the planet’s gravitational pull.

There was no lying to her. She would wheedle it out of them before they took another step.

“The situation is… precarious. It has been more than a fortnight since we have spoken to Uncle.”

Elesa, nose scrunched in confusion, looked to Emmet for a translation.

“More than a month.”

Now he was fiddling with his hair, tugging and twisting his gray locks that framed his face rapidly between his spindly fingers. Tynamo offered another buzz, the tingle felt familiar and comforting.

“So? I haven’t spoken to my father in even longer.”

Behind her, Ingo pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. The situation is not the same. Elesa wanted nothing more than to go on her journey to be away from her father. Emmet and Ingo…

“Lesa…” There was more to their story in the city of Opelucid, but neither twin had the heart to delve into it. “We should not dillydally, uncle is waiting.”

Without another word, Ingo brushed past her, and Emmet was on his heels, both practically running up the ramp, which just felt like such an odd juxtaposition to earlier this morning where they seemed intent on moving slower than Slugmas.

Elesa tried to keep a close eye on her friends as they greeted their uncle, the three of them shifting uncomfortably like the idea of a hug seemed impossible. Drayden’s face was usually hard to read thanks to the copious amount of facial hair, but there was a pinched quality to his expression.

That detail was quickly replaced with exasperation as a large, leathery Pokémon tore across the arena at a breakneck pace. Skidding to a stop just before them, the beast lunged forward and -

“Haxorus!”

Ingo spluttered, his front coated head to toe in slobber that he was wiping from his eyes. The other two kids weren’t spared from the assault, not even Blitzle, who shook out his striped coat of the sticky saliva with an indignant snort. The bubble of tension seemed to ease a little with this interruption, but it was still palpable.

Tynamo remained close to Emmet, nestled in his bandana, and offering soft nips to his jaw and chin. Litwick was doing the same, unable to conjure up witty dialogue when Ingo’s soul looked so withered and violently flickering with each interaction with his uncle. Even Blitzle, who was first and foremost Elesa’s Pokémon, was sticking close to the twins. His training as an aid Pokémon was kicking in to shove his snout into the boys’ floundering hands so they could have an outlet for their pent-up anxiety.

Elesa attempted to catalog each word, each expression, each vocal fluctuation – but they seemed so… normal? What were her friends so worried about?

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Drayden was across the arena with Elesa and Blitzle, introducing her to his large, and very fluffy, Altaria. Emmet watched over the top of his magazine; this issue was dedicated to Dragon Pokémon found in the Alola region, and he elbowed his twin when he saw Drayden cast his gaze in their direction. Although Darling was curled around them, her tusks bound to prevent injury, Emmet and a groggy Ingo sank into her flank to make themselves as small as possible.

Darling woke up with a rumble, nudging her snout against them before lightly nibbling on their hair to put them at ease. Drayden seemed to take a deep breath as he approached, taking a seat on the bench beside them, and looking at his nephews out of the corner of his eye.

“Your friend likes Altaria.”

“Altaria is nice.”

Emmet’s reply was more like a squeak than anything. Ingo had taken interest in the skin on Darling’s neck. There it was again, the pressure on that bubble of tension becoming unbearable once again. Without Elesa there to deflect, it was like back all those years before.

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All of them were thinking the same thing: Kaita not so quietly arguing with Drayden, the twins covering their ears because they didn’t like the shrill tone their mother’s voice had taken. The four-year-olds didn’t really understand what was happening, but they were used to the yelling.

Mom and mother had been doing it for weeks.

“I can’t handle them on my own!”

Kaita had snapped, her eyes bright and her mouth curled into an awful snarl. Drayden offered her an equally ferocious growl, too much like their draconic partners than either of them cared to admit. He and his fraternal twin never saw eye to eye, but this?

He wanted to tell Kaita that that was too fucking bad. She and Lucielle should have thought this through a little longer. Kids were not marriage savers. Now she was trying to dump them on him? No fucking way.

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Drayden blinked hard, allowing the blessed dark to cool the bubbling anger he felt toward his sister. This was not Emmet and Ingo’s fault… He had never addressed this incident with them before, had he? Of course, they had been old enough to remember. The Dragon Master picked on their discomfort quickly and he was just as happy to leave them home than he was to take them on his hour-long commute to Opelucid.

In that moment, it occurred to Drayden just how awful that sounded. He had never really thought of his nephews as being lonely, not when they had each other. He left them at home with Darling when they were still young, but that had only been a few years. They had been abandoned by their mothers and then again by him.

This knowledge felt like bile stinging the back of his throat.

“I love you boys.”

Whatever his nephews had expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. Drayden propped his elbows on his knees, not unlike Emmet did when he was chatting with his brother and looked at them with something akin to a pleading look.

“We love you too.”

Ingo’s response was so… Mechanical. A reflex. Drayden seemed pained and they both cringed, waiting for their uncle to adopt that tone of voice they were so well acquainted with by this point – that horrible concoction of disappointment and frustration that was all too familiar to their ears.

“No, Emmet… Ingo…” He got up, stepping toward them and crouching down, Darling temporarily swinging her head around to butt her snout under his chin affectionately before resuming her doting on the twins. He hated how they shrank away, cowering like they expected him to yell – had he ever yelled at them? No, not as far as he could remember, but perhaps his silence spoke volumes about his bitterness. “Boys,” he croaked, schooling his expression into something softer (which he only just realized was something he and Ingo had in common), “I am very proud of you. I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished.

Two sets of gray eyes blinked, a staccato of confusion at this admission, as if unsure how to process that compliment.

“… Thank you.”

Ingo said, a gravelly quality to his voice that made it quieter than its typical boom. Emmet’s hand was shaking, but Drayden recognized that a precursor to a form of stimming. It was something that evolved from learning sign for Elesa for both twins; Emmet used to snap his fingers and his brother hummed (usually quite out-of-tune and loudly).

“May I join you? You look quite cozy there.”

Emmet and Ingo scooted over, leaving room between them so their uncle could sit. They were still a little confused by the unexpected behavior from him, but Drayden asked for permission to put his arms around them, and they didn’t reject him. The aversion to touch made unprompted touch nearly unbearable for all except themselves and more recently Elesa, but Drayden seeking their acceptance felt… different – it felt nice.

“Your Pokémon’ve gotten a lot stronger. I can tell these things, you know.”

Gradually, Drayden felt Emmet and Ingo relaxing into him while they told him all about their adventures. They showed off Tynamo and Litwick, the latter looking a tad smug when Drayden said she had a menacing aura.

“We also have this Dwebble… Well, perhaps that is not quite accurate. He shares the same carriage as us and travels the same tracks, however, he insists on remaining unaccompanied.”

The Pokémon in question was observing from under the bench Drayden had vacated – oh my, nearly an hour ago, those boys really knew how to fill in the time. Dwebble’s eyestalks twitched, its body cautiously retracting into its shell now that it was the center of attention.

“He is shy, yup!”

Drayden offered a nod, crooking his finger at the small, shelled Pokémon. Dwebble, body still half hidden, obeyed the unspoken command and skittered forward.

“See, he has a magnificent specimen on his back. I have not looked into the logistics of whether sediments found in or on Crustle and Dwebble affect their battling, but he has a King’s rock. It is spectacular!”

Their uncle nodded with agreement, Darling grumbling encouragingly at the smaller Pokémon with his approach.

“I must agree. He’s spectacular… Have you asked him if he’d like to join you?”

Drayden listened carefully as Ingo explained the fiasco that was Route 18 – Frillish and all - and, although he was tempted into chastising Ingo, he held his tongue about his nephew’s so-called inside voice. In fact, Ingo parroted some of the lessons that Drayden had attempted to instill in him. He was trying to work on his “volume output”. The Dwebble seemed to be quite used to them now, scraping a claw against the sole of the Gym Leader’s shoes, which inexplicably reminded him of his nephews yet again.

“Such a shame. Ingo really likes rocks, too,” Emmet said with a sympathetic shake of his head when his brother sighed much too heavily for someone of his age. Drayden’s brow was furrowed, watching as the Bug Pokémon’s eyes darted to Ingo, and he said,

“Ask him again.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Ask Dwebble to join your team. Pokémon, just like humans, can have a hard time saying what they mean. Sometimes they need help or a little nudge. He’s come this far with you, hasn’t he?”

Ingo seemed to contemplate this for a moment, they certainly had gone the distance with Dwebble at their side…

Ingo leaned forward, trying to tamp down his excitement – just in case his uncle’s instincts were off.

“Dwebble… Are you interested in... Would you join me on this journey?”

The Pokémon blinked up at the boy, eyestalks tilting to one side and then the other. In that moment, it felt as though all the air was sucked out of the room, the anxiety unwittingly rocketing up with each second that ticked by where the Pokémon before them didn’t answer.

Dwebble raised his pincers tacked against the ground, his eyestalks swaying to a music that only he seemed to hear, only for the Pokémon to instantly shoot back into his shell when a sonic boom shattered the silence.

You better get used to the human Exploud if you wanna be a part of this team.

Litwick groused, her annoyance was mostly for show at the pure joy in her trainer’s eyes when he picked up Dwebble. Spinning around in tight circles, Ingo wasn’t even able to say anything, only a mix of laughter that verged on happy sobs, as he held his new Pokémon close to his chest.

Emmet watched on with a bright smile, happy for his brother’s first genuine catch, allowing the bright glow of the moment to not be stymied by the fact that they had no money for Pokéballs and were fresh out because they lent all theirs to Elesa to catch some Plusle and Minun on Route 6 (with no resulting captures).

“King! You shall be called King.”

How does this walking pile of rocks have a name before me!?

Litwick shrieked, batting at Ingo’s ear in aggravation to no avail. Drayden watched on, beard obscuring the placid smile on his face.

Good. It was time to make better memories here in Opelucid.

#pokemon #submas #nimbasa trio #pkmn #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #subway bosses #subway master emmet #subway master ingo #gym leader elesa #gym leader drayden #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #i thought King would be a cute name for Ingo's Dwebble :)

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hometoursandotherstuff · 3 months

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Even though it's constructed of thick concrete-insulated walls, built into the hillside, concrete floors, steel I beams, and custom made steel doors, it still has lots of glass and is above ground, so how can it be an apocalypse house? Built in 2004 in Willow Creek, Montana, it has 1bd (screw everyone else), 2ba, $850K.

Greenhouse has a glass ceiling and contamination can creep into the soil.

I just don't get this house.

Huge living room/kitchen space. This structure in the corner is the kitchen.

Not sure what this is above the kitchen.

Behind the kitchen counter. This is seriously industrial.

Combination bath/utility room.

Storage cabinet on wheels acts as a divider between the bedroom and living area.

A rear entrance has a small lofted area and goes down to the bedroom.

Entrance to bath #2 is behind the screen.

Industrial style farm doors.

The 2nd bath is a shower room.

I don't know what this building is, but it's partially underground.

40x60 shop on the property has a separate 500-gallon propane tank.

The grain silo is an art studio that comes equipped with 2 kilns.

27.87 acres. There are no restrictive covenants or zoning, so you have the freedom for multiple uses including, but not limited to, commercial, industrial, recreational, agricultural, small business, residential, and farming.

#apocalypse homes #bunkers #off the grid homes #houses #house tours #home tour #unusual homes

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blubushie · 1 year

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hihihi can we get a part 2 for gun mistakes??? -leafanon

G'day leafanon!

FOR ANIMATORS/AUTHORS/ARTISTS PT. 2

SNIPERS WILL NOT STICK THE BARREL OF THEIR RIFLE OUT OF OPEN WINDOWS. Best case scenario is you’re sat in a mildly-uncomfortable chair while your spotter stands or sits next to you in an even more uncomfortable chair with a rangefinder. Before rangefinders were introduced (1990s and earlier) you were merely going off estimates (“That building is 50 yards, the next is 25, etc etc”). You never put the barrel out a window because it’d give away your position and put you AND YOUR SPOTTER in danger.

MOST MODERN SCOPES HAVE AN ANTI-GLARE COATING AND/OR A SUNSHADE TO PREVENT GIVING AWAY YOUR POSITION. This is especially useful when hunting as many animals (deer, turkeys, pigs) are incredibly vigilant and will bolt if they see the glint off a scope. This also helps with the sunlight hitting your scope and nearly blinding you from taking your shot. There are some cases of this still happening in “modern” times (notoriously the sniper duel between Carlos Hathcock and Cobra, a North Vietnamese sniper during the Vietnam War) but it’s very rare and scopes that are currently used by police, military, and most hunters don’t glint. This is what a sunshade looks like.

BULLETS DO NOT PENETRATE WATER WELL. Water density is much higher than air and the shape of bullets means they don’t travel well in water. Most bullets will fragment or fold upon hitting the surface of the water and their speed is greatly reduced. Supersonic rounds (such as rifle-calibre, up to .50) fragment within a metre (~3ft) of the water’s surface. Slower sub-sonic rounds (such a pistol-calibre) can travel up to 3m (~10ft). Once you’re a metre under the surface, however, it’s unlikely for any round under .50 to even penetrate you on contact as it loses most of its kinetic power. Arrows however are very aerodynamic and may maintain their kinetic energy up to 2m (~6) and perhaps twice that if you're shooting straight down.

RESEARCH. RESEARCH. RESEARCH. Know the weapons you draw/animate/write. It might not matter to you, but it will make or break it to your viewer. Is the weapon single-shot or does it use a magazine? What is the magazine capacity? What is the recoil? How do you reload? What do you do in case of a jam? Does your character know the weapon well? YouTube is your best friend in this regard.

CLIPS AND MAGAZINES ARE NOT THE SAME THING. These are clips vs magazines. Clips are open and hold the cartridge by the bottom. Magazines fully enclose the cartridges. Clips only hold rounds together to make them easier to feed into a magazine.

BLOODY TRIGGER DISCIPLINE. If your character is waving a firearm around with their finger on the trigger I am personally coming to kick your arse. You keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. YOU DO NOT POINT YOUR MUZZLE TOWARD ANYTHING YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO SHOOT.

PROPANE TANKS WILL NOT EXPLODE IF YOU SHOOT THEM. Also, handguns are rarely powerful enough to pierce propane tanks. CARS WILL NOT BLOW UP IF YOU SHOOT THE PETROL TANK.

IF YOU FIRE A FIREARM IN AN ENCLOSED SPACE IT IS GOING TO TEMPORARILY DEAFEN YOU. GUNS ARE BLOODY LOUD. That’s why we wear ear protection. This applies less in intense combat situations as (in my experience) tinnitus doesn't happen if you start shooting after your adrenaline starts pumping.

MAG-DUMPING. Not only is it very dangerous because of the recoil, it’s a stupid waste of ammo as the recoil buggers up your aim so you’re rarely hitting your target. Unless your character is in a panic and/or holding down the trigger out of rage, they’re not going to mag-dump because you’ll empty your entire magazine in only a few seconds (stupid in a combat situation) and rarely hit your target. Fully automatic weapons are fired in short bursts of 2-5 rounds at a time.

IT’S INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT TO HIT A MOVING TARGET. IT’S EVEN HARDER TO DO IT WHEN YOU’RE THE ONE MOVING. Rounds fired while moving are typically just suppression fire—basically shots fired to make your enemy take cover so that they have no time to shoot at you. You are not aiming at a specific target. It’s spray-and-pray.

HIPFIRING IS SPRAY-AND-PRAY. It’s EXTREMELY difficult to hit a target while hipfiring and hitting any intentional target while doing so requires EXTENSIVE practice. For this reason most hipfiring is spray-and-pray—spray, and pray you hit something.

SHOTGUNS ARE EFFECTIVE AT MUCH FURTHER THAN ONLY A YARD OR TWO. Most stay clustering within 50yds. That’s this distance. If you're firing a slug it can be accurate to up to TWICE THIS DISTANCE.

SHOTGUNS WILL NOT THROW THE VICTIM ACROSS A ROOM. They don’t have that much kinetic power, and even if they did, they’d throw the shooter across the room first because they’re taking the brunt of the kinetic energy in the form of recoil.

BULLETS WILL PEIRCE CARS. Car doors will not protect you from bullets, not even the door of a police cruiser. THE ONLY PART OF A CAR THAT WILL PROTECT YOU FROM BULLETS IS THE ENGINE BLOCK. The rest is just concealment cover and will not protect you.

MOST CRIMINALS IN THE USA WILL NOT HAVE FULLY AUTOMATIC WEAPONS. This is less applicable to scenes that occur before the 1980s when there were more full-auto weapons on the streets, but even then were INCREDIBLY expensive and even your most notorious gangster would be unlikely to have them. Unless your character is a top-of-the-line 1920s-1940s Chicago/NY mobster, they probably won’t have that Tommy gun unless they’re filthy rich or the weapon was given to them by someone else who's filthy rich.

YES, YOU CAN MAKE RUNAWAY GUNS (FULL-AUTO) OUT OF SEMI-AUTO FIREARMS. NO, I WILL NOT TELL YOU HOW TO MAKE THEM. The issue with runaway guns is that once you pull the trigger THEY WILL NOT STOP FIRING EVEN IF YOU TAKE YOUR FINGER OFF THE TRIGGER. THEY WILL KEEP FIRING UNTIL THE MAGAZINE IS EMPTY OR UNTIL THEY JAM. For this reason no one in their right mind is making a runaway gun.

STOP HOLDING YOUR HANDGUN SIDEWAYS. YOU DON'T LOOK COOL, YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT AND THAT'S HOW YOU GET JAMS. Having a character do this is a great way to show they're all bluff and an idiot, though.

YOU CANNOT PUT A SUPPRESSOR ON A REVOLVER. Well, technically you can, but it won't work. There's a gap between the cylinder and the bore and in this space is something called the forcing cone. There's a gap between the forcing cone and the bore which allows gas (and sound) to escape from the cylinder, which renders the suppressor absolutely useless since the sound and gas just escapes anyway.

FOR VISUAL CREATORS SPECIFICALLY: REMEMBER EYE RELIEF. YOU NEED TO BE A CERTAIN DISTANCE FROM THE SCOPE TO GET A FULL PICTURE. IF YOUR CHARACTER HAS THEIR EYE TO THE SCOPE THEY ARE GOING TO GIVE THEMSELF A BLACK EYE WITH THE RECOIL. My personal eye relief when shooting my .30-06 is 10cm (~4in). Higher calibre means more kick, which means more eye relief.

As before, if I think of any more I'll add them later!

As always, if you have any questions feel free to send me an ask!

#blu whos #blu pew #bushman #firearms #art tips #writing tips #not tf2 again but w/e

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solar-sol-sol · 3 months

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!!!URGENT HELP NEEDED FOR PINE RIDGE INDIAN RESERVATION YOU CAN HELP WITH!!! ALL ACTIONS APPRECIATED

Please don’t scroll without doing something!

https://www.instagram.com/p/C2B47UOuUvN/?igsh=Nmtnemh6YTFrYWZ5

information in this post!

Hello folks, as we know like indigenous ppl on turtle island is in an ongoing state of being extremely shitted on by "US of A", and because of climate crisis the weather shits itself, there is a major winter storm with alarms of extreme cold and wind chill warning occuring at this moment, please stay safe everyone!

There's this organization called Chunka Luta Network, currently they are directly helping the traditional families on Porcupine get wood delivered and fill their propane tanks, and to make sure that happen they are working with tribes in Oklahoma.

For background, this org is founded by Sungmanitu, an Oglala Lakota person, their family is from Pine Ridge reservation, after years of making sure their family survive every winter by sending wages back home, they decided to start a winter drive to get coats, hats, a uhaul, wood, and hotels. Now the momentum has been rolling and they are making more tangible impact and carrying out more and bigger projects! <:)

CLN youtube channel for you to check out, awesome:

https://www.youtube.com/@ChunkaLutaNetwork>

the org's linktree:

https://linktr.ee/chunkalutanetwork

support their effort directly via $ZitkatosTinCan on cashapp or @zitkato on venmo, you can dm for paypal, other options include the multiple GFM for other projects, amazon wishlist.

Consider consistent long term support like patreon, which starts with $1 and liberpay, all displayed in their linktree :) we have power in numbers. Sharing and RB is appreciated.

#pine ridge reservation #winter storm #climate crisis #pls reblog #indegenous #how the fuck do i tag idk how tumblr works #uwahuwahuwah #aghhhhh #No social media likes me so I am going to just hop outside and talk to people directly on the streets ig!#fundraising

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theramseyloft · 2 months

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The Future Loft Site

Is not much to look at now.

Once, this was a garage where food was made.

You can actually see the remains of the industrial oven and food warmer.

The ceiling is falling.

And I could bring that plywood down with my hands.

No, really, look at this dubious cross section!

It looks like plywood was nailed on the inside to the telephone poles, some boards to the outside, and some tin was haphazardly nailed to the boards.

Looks like some barbecuing was done here too, by the sheer number of propane tanks.

There aren't even the remains of anything between the tin roof and the plywood ceiling.

Very likely, the roof rusted, and rain got in, and the ceiling and walls rotted from there.

None of this is really salvageable.

I'm honestly amazed it hasn't fully disintegrated yet!

Pretty much the only potentially useable bits are the concrete floor (which can be resurfaced), and the telephone poles that act as load bearing pillars (still solid by some miracle, but probably best replaced.)

The walls and ceiling will have to be torn down and rebuilt properly from scratch.

Because we have two sets of family that we need to get into safe housing before we can build a whole new building from the ground up, I was expecting to just wait however many years I had to.

Dear Hubby thinks that it would be better to modify an existing building and use that until all the family we intend to house are safely settled.

He thinks that we could we empty our 15x15x10 storage building, make any repairs we need to the roof and sides, caulk it, insulate it, wall and cover it on the inside, tile it, ventilate it, even get it an AC unit and build it a bigger screened in porch while we work on getting housing up for his parents and sibling.

He even thinks that we could get that done not too long after we get everything moved to the new property.

I have been invited to visit a loft in Alabama run by one of the founders of Racing Pigeons for Military Veterans, who is in her late 60s and designed her loft to be easy for some one with bad joints to manage.

I will not post anything she does not give me express permission to, but I am excited to take notes and see what can be implemented to the final loft and hopefully the stop gap.

Last order of business before moving ourselves and buildings is to get the fallen, torn AC duct work repaired.

I'm actually starting to feel more hopeful about things moving again.

Further updates will continue as we have them.

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sepdet · 9 months

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(I don't usually break copyright for journalists, who deserve to make a living through their writing the same as other authors, but this paywalled article mentions a few native Hawaiian relief efforts that need funding)

Native Hawaiians organize aid for Maui fire victims as government lags

Reis Thebault, Washington Post [12Aug 2023]

LAHAINA, Hawaii — The boats kept coming. One by one, cruisers and catamarans eased toward the beach in Kahana, a small and tightknit neighborhood just north of Maui’s hardest-hit areas.

Each one was laden with supplies: generators, propane tanks, trash bags full of clothing and ready-to-eat meals. And each one was greeted by two dozen people, the first among them wading waist-deep into the ocean to retrieve provisions from the boat and pass them down the chain, which wound its way to shore.

[Hawaii utility faces scrutiny for not cutting power to reduce fire risks]

The entire operation buzzed with urgent efficiency. But this was not the National Guard, or the Federal Emergency Management Agency, nor state or local government. This was scores of residents, led mostly by native Hawaiians, who had battled immense grief and unreliable communications to coordinate a large-scale disaster relief effort serving everyone in need after Tuesday’s ruinous Maui fire.

And this, a parade of boats that brought desperate locals thousands of pounds of supplies, was one of many.

“There’s no government agency helping us — this is it,” said Jareth Lumlung, a native Hawaiian who helped arrange the de facto donation hub. “This is our home, our community.”

[Live updates on Hawaiian wildfires]

In the days since a ferocious wildfire decimated whole swaths of Maui, including the historic west island town of Lahaina, those who live here have said they’ve received little help from the county and state, small entities which are struggling to respond to an unprecedented calamity.

For people whose cultural traditions have been threatened by American colonization and the state’s embrace of tourism and development, government help was never expected. Instead, the community has relied on itself.

Many, native Hawaiians in particular, see the absence of visible official support as a continuation of long-standing frustrations and pain, which began with the destructive arrival of Europeans and lives on in struggles over water rights.

The displacement of native Hawaiians is a particularly acute concern now, as much of the island has been targeted for gentrification, driving up the costs of living and forcing many native Hawaiians to move to mainland cities like Las Vegas.

[After five hours in ocean, Maui fire survivor is ‘blessed to be alive’]

Government officials have said they were focused on putting out the flames, housing and feeding survivors in evacuation centers outside the burn zone, protecting damaged areas, clearing roads in and around the town and helping to restore essential utilities. Some of the aid is out of reach of survivors, however, because they lack transportation or working phones to alert them about services. In Lahaina, the private efforts have been more visible, survivors said.

Hawaii Gov. Josh Green (D) estimated that nearly all of Lahaina had been destroyed. But in Kahana, the town’s spirit remained completely alive.

“If you take away all Hawaiians, there’ll be no more Hawaii,” Lumlung said. “It’ll be just a place. This is what it’s all about right here. We’re all raised the same way; this is something that’s just naturally instilled. You don’t have to be asked to do these things.”

Residents gather at Napili Plaza in Lahaina, Hawaii, to connect to Starlink satellites to contact their loved ones on Friday. (Mengshin Lin for The Washington Post)

The supply boats began arriving on Wednesday, as first responders were still battling the blaze and recovering bodies amid burned-out homes and businesses. Two days later, they hadn’t slowed. On Friday, they began arriving early, and volunteers had tents set up to sort the goods: a pile of men’s pants here, a pyramid of diapers there and vast mounds of bottled water.

“We lost everything. We lost our town,” said Jerica Naki, whose home in Lahaina was destroyed. “That’s why we’re here.”

On this day, the volunteer boats largely came from neighboring islands, Oahu and Molokai, northwest of Maui in the Hawaiian archipelago, traveling far on choppy seas. Naki was helping sort donations and she described an emotional whirlwind, from escaping with nothing to seeing a staggering amount of volunteer support for those who have been displaced like her.

[These maps show where wildfires are burning in Hawaii]

“A lot of us are born and raised here,” Naki said, looking around as the chain of volunteers hauled in boxes of tinned sausage. “There’s a l xd ot of pride in Lahaina, so it hurts, a lot. But this is all we have here now, each other, and we’re making do.”

As the response has worn on, the greatest needs have shifted. There is now plenty of nonperishable food and bottled water. Generators, fuel and Starlink satellite internet systems would be most useful, volunteers say.

Sheryl Nakanelua knew instinctively where she needed to go when she fled her Lahaina home as flames spread. She made her way to Kahana and set up a tent across from Lumlung’s house, where she’ll stay until her family is let back into her subdivision, one of the few that was spared.

“This is our family place, it’s home,” she said of the Kahana neighborhood. “This is the best part to be at. It’s what’s keeping us positive.”

Other such spots have popped up. Napili Plaza, once a destination for groceries, ribs and tattoos, is now a donation drop-off center. And some 100 cars lined up for free gas near the town’s former railroad station. Coordinating the boats and other donation sites is a massive task that involves maddening games of phone tag in a place largely without cell service and requires a relentless dedication and extensive Rolodex.

Residents like Zane Schweitzer have both. Schweitzer, whose family has lived around Lahaina for generations, has spent nearly every hour of the last 48 working his walkie-talkie and phone, frantically arranging aid from around Maui, Hawaii and the mainland. Working with the Oahu-based youth nonprofit Na Kama Kai, he helped coordinate one of Friday’s largest deliveries.

Officials said most of Lahaina, the historic town in West Maui, was destroyed when hurricane winds pushed fires to the coast.

On the south side of Lahaina, in Olowalu, Eddy and Sam Garcia are transforming their groundbreaking sustainable farm into a shelter for those who have lost their homes. The married couple, who themselves have lost farmland and fruit crops worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, are setting up temporary housing, a massive solar power system and a satellite internet connection that they’ll open to anyone who needs it.

“In the immediate moment, people need shelter, they need food, they need water, they need a place to get on the internet so they can look for their loved ones,” said Eddy Garcia, who grew up in Lahaina. “We’re shifting all of our attention to trying to feed and house our neighbors.”

The Olowalu farm is uniquely well-prepared to handle this sort of disaster. Run by the Garcias’ nonprofit, Regenerative Education Centers, it was already operating off the grid, with its own power, plumbing and food. The nonprofit has launched a fundraiser to help pay for the fire effort, which will continue as long as there’s a need.

The property, even after being raked by the fire’s severe winds, is verdant and shaded by tall mango trees. On Friday, volunteers and staff readied the farm to fill any needs. They butchered and smoked a wild pig, set up new solar panels and scoured the internet for portable toilets. Eddy Garcia whirred with adrenaline, his satellite-connected cellphone ringing every few minutes with someone offering help.

For locals like him, helping his neighbors is not only about their survival, but about preserving the island’s identity and keeping it livable for those whose families have been here for generations.

“It’s not about these giant hotels on the beach and all the big companies, but trying to take care of local people,” he said. “This is not a visitor’s destination spot, this is the kingdom of Hawaii. That hit the heart of it in Lahaina. It hurts to even talk about it.”

His phone rang again and he stood up to leave.

“I’m like a ball of rubber bands right now,” he said, “and the only thing keeping me going is I got to organize these things.”

——

[More photos and links to the latest news in and after article]

#maui fires #lahaina #relief efforts

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