Pattern Ghost

Yellow Bellied Sapsucker and/or

It's great for simulating a LASER beam. And shaving a couple of points off a build.

From the above: I love those kinds of details.

Zoot Suit Riot by Cherry Poppin' Daddies New topic: Fish and Fowl. Things with Fins and Feathers.

If your sinuses are trying to escape through the front of your face, it's likely allergies not COVID. That's what I found out last time I played that game.

Hopefully. At least they were in a hospital already. Even if it wasn't a trauma center, they could get stabilized and transported quickly.

My last day was Wednesday. Radio report at 10pm my time said all three victim (Dr. and two nurses) were in critical condition.

This is a different societal ill at work, I'm afraid. Constant source of danger at emergency rooms in cities that have become overrun with people experiencing homelessness and addiction. People frequently threaten and attack ER staff, including with weapons, up here, where we have similar problems. One perk of quitting my job: Less likely to end up stabbed or worse on any given day.

Heller vs. DC ruled that it is indeed an individual right, but not unlimited. So, his points are moot. On the bright side, since stare decisis is about to be tossed out the window with women's right to regulate their own wombs, Heller might one day be reversed. The conservative court kind of shot themselves in the foot on that one. (Pun intended.)

Every time we lose a Herophile, I feel just a little bit older. Tjack will be missed. Condolences, and thanks for coming here to let us know.

Condolences, Pariah.

I sure as heck hope "we" don't do that to mentally ill people.

A light brick with that attack seems more like some kind of constrictor than elapid.

The Highway to Hell group were anagrams of the AC/DC band members at the time.

Technically, it was people with guns that stopped this last guy. But the big problem is this: Stopping someone who is already shooting is reactive and not proactive. We need to stop these events before they start. The vast majority of these school shooters telegraph their intentions in advance, often in very obvious ways. Our law enforcement and social services need to intervene earlier and redirect these people before they act. Honestly, every teacher in this country should have Stop the Bleed training*. That'd be more effective than arming random teachers. *This is actually good for everyone to have, just as a general life skill. You may never use it, but like CPR it can safe a life if the occasion arises.

There is a fine line between duty to act (which isn't a legal duty in the US for LE, but I believe a moral one), and duty to serve the community by living to continue to serve the community (by avoiding unnecessary risks, including throwing away a life that can help a large number of people to make a reckless attempt to help a single individual). Uvalde PD does not appear to be on the ethical side of that line. They didn't follow current doctrine of getting in as quickly as reasonably possible to preserve lives, and hindered other agencies who were willing to do so. Their reasons for the delay just don't seem to be justified. Apparently, the Texas Rangers and FBI are investigating the Uvalde PD response. It'll be interesting to see what the outcome is.

Seems like with a name like Black Mamba, venom is very possible. I don't have my books handy. Does he have any other powers to lump that attack into the same special effects as?

For me, probably FASERIP Marvel, or something more rules light. There would be a lot of games that may not exist in their current forms if not for Champions/Hero, like the aforementioned GURPS, Mutants and Masterminds, and BESM to name a few. Chaosium's Basic RPG system might have made an interesting base for a Superhero game, in an alternate timeline, or Top Secret / SI, for a skills-based game. I wonder what else may have emerged without Hero? Would someone else had come up with a system of core building blocks for powers and effects eventually?

Most malls have anchor stores. Those are going to be the areas you fortify. The rest of the areas connecting them can be repurposed as parking, exercise/training areas, gardens for relaxing, pools for the team fish guy, etc.

Just watched the first episode of Obi Wan Kenobi. Owen has some big brass ones.

They built a Sandy Hook Elementary on the property: https://www.businessinsider.com/sandy-hook-elementary-new-school-newtown-connecticut-2016-7

The three brothers rode sedately down the great highway, seated upon regal axebeaks, and dressed in finery woven of fine silk spun with precious metals. Each carried their sacred Axe with them, laid across their saddle bows. The first rider, a giant dwarf by the name of Anson Guyug, played intricate riffs on his axe. His head tilted with one ear toward the instrument, eyes half closed, seeking the melody. For he was composing a sacred hymn. The second giant dwarf, by the name of Ammony Coglum, seemed content, keeping up a steady, driving rhythm on his own guitar, supporting Anson's efforts but not loud enough to overpower the quiet strumming. The final giant dwarf, a robust fellow (which is saying something, because he's a giant dwarf in the first place) by the name of Samic Lilwiffil, carried a somewhat larger axe on which he strummed a bass line that stirred the grass as he rode along. For this reason, Anson turned his head to give Samic the old stink eye, and in that moment of head turning, spotted a glint on the horizon. When Anson's head snapped forward, his companions' followed suit so quickly and fluidly it would have seemed to an outside observer that the act was in unison. For what Anson had seen was the glint of metal from a spear head just cresting a hill some half a furlong ahead. In moments, all three riders could sense a large mass of metal forged for war just over the hill. They could sense the metal and its purpose because all three were disciples of Metal and high clerics of Thrum . "Brothers," said Anson, "let us play some hair metal, to show them we mean no ill will." Just because it was a war band didn't mean the party was at war with them. They were on a sacred mission, after all. Anson thought it best to avoid unnecessary conflict. The other two sighed and started to play something melodic. Samic's chords were a little aggressive, thought Anson, but it would do. The three guided their birds off the side of the road to make way for the approaching war band. The war band crested the hill. The Koutpa war band. "Oh sh . . .," uttered Anson as Samic tore by him, ripping out a power chord that cut through the ancient paving stones of the great highway. Ammony shrugged and the remaining pair followed the bassist. The war band went on alert at the first sounds of Samic's charge, and formed a perfect shield wall, spears out, creating a porcupine of steel, with nary a crack to breech. Ammony's keen eye caught sight of something in the center of the formation. He sent out a quick riff as he rode and confirmed his suspicion as its echos returned to him: the snaky bastards were guarding a gilded cage. "Hold UP!, Samic," Ammony roared. "They have a hostage!" Samic bellowed over his shoulder, "It's not time to eat! I don't want a sausage!" Then he pulled up ten yards in front of the Koutpa formation and hit their front line with everything he had. A low chord lashed out, vibrating the warriors to their cores, causing their entire left flank to start retching uncontrollably, emptying the contents of their stomachs onto the warm pavement. But their shields . . . did. not. budge. "More than one way to skin a snake," Samic rumbled as he flipped his axe around and held it by the neck. Ammony and Anson caught up. "Brother! They have a hostage," Ammony said again. Samic blinked. "Ah, I get it. Yeah, sausage didn't even make sense. It's not like we eat the food of the softer races." Anson sighed. "Remember, brothers, we have the mission. Perhaps we can salvage this." The others shrugged. Samic tested the edge of his axe. "You there! There seems to have been a misunderstanding. We wish to move on in peace." A grunting yet somehow still sibilant shout went up from the formation, and the Koutpa formation advanced a step, spears lowered. Samic had reversed his axe again and was tuning. Ammony nodded to Anson, who sighed. "OK, let's do it." They did it. Waves of pure metal roared from their guitars, intricate and intense, and unmade the alloys in the Koutpa's gear. Shields drooped, spear heads turned to particles of fine metal dust, armor clattered dully to the ground. The naked Koutpa stood before the three clerics of Thrum . In unison, they lowered their spear shafts to their mouths, and rubbed them on their venom glands. Four who had been carrying a covered cage fell back and placed it to the rear of the formation, then rejoined ranks, all as the three giant dwarfs looked on incredulously. "Come ON, now!" said a very weary Anson. "Venom? On pointy sticks? That's what it's come to? All we asked is that you let us go in peace." "You will submit! We have our sacred duty," said a naked Koutpa, presumed leader, his rank indistinguishable due to his insignia having oozed into a pool of goo moments ago. "And us too. All ours requires is that we be moving along. If you have an ounce of wisdom, you'll move your sorry arses along as well." The Koutpa advanced another step. Samic said, "Well, looks like everyone's got a sacred duty today." He looked at his companions, "What do you figure these guys taste like? Probably like moon children, eh? Everything tastes like moon children." While he spoke, he moved to his left, in front of the first snake man in the first rank of the formation. "Nah? Maybe they taste like moon children with snake sauce?" The front rank raised their spear shafts . . . and Samic sprang upon them. He ran faster than anything as large and girthy had any right to, and took the head of each soldier in the line. The formation stopped advancing. Then it broke. The Koutpa scattered for the hills. A lone Koutpa soldier remained, back to the large, gilded cage. "Well, you're a brave one," smiled Samic, his teeth the only clean metal under the gore from a decuple decapitation. "I will not abandon my duty," the Koutpa said. Its tail belied its bravery, as it thudded on the ground, drumming his fear to the clerics. The trio of clerics recognized this as the one who spoke earlier. Samic reached out and gently took the spear shaft from the soldier. He examined the tip. No venom. "And a smart one, too. That's unusual." "You've got metal skin. Probably metal guts," the soldier said in a resigned tone. "True," the giant dwarf replied. "So, what you got in here?" Samic reached out with the spear shaft and pushed aside the dark cloth covering the gilded cage. It was a finely filigreed affair made of brass covered in gold and gems. Not materials suited for war, and thus unaffected by the trio's earlier song. The soldier's tail thumping became more intense, tapping out a staccato of beats. An idea was beginning to take shape in Samic's mind. The cloth fell, revealing a . . . snoring ball of fur. "That's Princess Tont Bosc, who we were taking to trade for ransom," sighed the soldier. A claw shot out from between the cage's bars, striking the soldier between the scales, eliciting a grunt of surprise, if not real pain. "It's Prince Bosc Tont, you twit." Ah, that was a nice rasp in Prince Bosc's voice, thought Samic. He turned to his brothers, who smiled back, and made short nods of assent. "So, soldier, what's your name, then?" "It's Rild Phud." "Doesn't sound very snaky, now does it?" "It's an anagram-based name. We use them when infiltrating." "Have ye infiltrated anything yet," asked Samic. "No, but they start us off early to get used to it." Samic grinned. The lad was already spilling his guts about matters he probably shouldn't. "Why don't the two of you join us? We could use a drummer and a vocalist." "I don't drum," said Prince Bosc. "You're the singer, your Highness. All your folk sing, isn't that true?" "True enough," said the Prince, letting himself out of the cage by casually picking its lock with two claws. Rild tossed up his arms. "Sure, why not? Where are we going?" "We're looking for the Highway to Hekk," said Samic. "First, we have to rediscover the sacred riffs . . ." Geography: Highway to Hekk.

Mythic Guardian: The Sandman. After the party or the battle is over, it's off to never-never land. (Lower case, not the Geographical Feature pick.) The Sandman safeguards the dreams of the righteous and those who rock. Pleasant dreams make for a refreshing sleep!

Thrum does not endorse brigandage or anarchy, as those are not his domains. He merely provides the cornerstones of civilization: metal to craft and build, and to shape the world the civilized races live in, music to motivate and inspire, freedom to grow, mercy from life's cruelties . . . brigandage and anarchy do not fit in Thrum 's portfolio. Though brigands may misuse some of his gifts, Thrum does not claim such as his own. But is not Thrum a god of Warfare as well, you may ask? This is true, but Thrum only makes war to protect those things dear to civilized society, not petty banditry.