Vector offroad jk dash bar
My 2017 JK feels like it’s falling apart, can anyone help?
2023.06.04 17:23 More-Tooth-4928 My 2017 JK feels like it’s falling apart, can anyone help?
I’m about two months into my Wrangler owner-life. I bought a used 2017 JK at a dealership down the street and there’s been nothing but problems with it that the dealership reluctantly fixed.
All except one. I had problems with these after market wheels hitting the sway bar when you turn the wheel full choke left or right. I had to buy new offset tires and the dealership gave me a hard time about it and wouldn’t pay for it. But they eventually paid for half and I got them installed at this tire place down the street.
While it was there, they told me the shocks are leaking and need to be replaced and they could do it for about $1100. So I brought it back to the dealership since it was still under warranty but they said the shocks were fine (did a little bounce test and everything) and they weren’t gonna replace them. So I let it go because I don’t really know much about this stuff yet.
But when I am driving and I hit a bump, a dip, a pothole, or a speed bump the car feels like it has smashed into them and is falling apart even though I slow wayyyy down. The whole car rattles abruptly and violently, from the dashboard, the doors, the windows and most of all the whole body. Shouldn’t a good suspension make bumps and such relatively smooth? Or is this normal for Wranglers?
submitted by More-Tooth-4928
to JeepWrangler [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 16:52 Walts_Ahole CJ7 install: ported or sealed subs
| || | submitted by Walts_Ahole to CarAV [link] [comments]
I got an 85 CJ7 that I'm upgrading, got a 4 channel alpine app to run 5" mid/highs in the dash, 6x9s in boxes by the roll bar.
Got a few old sub amps, but right now planning on a kicker dxa500.1 ([email protected]
ohms) running 2 kicker compRs (500w rms. 2ohm dvc, so each at 1 ohm or 4 ohm).
In my newer Jeep, I have a downfiring 8" skar zvx on a 1000w dd audio amp & is great, but for an old CJ that rarely has doors or a top (always parked in garage), what's the ideal design / arrangement?
Ported or sealed? Downfiring or forward?
2023.06.04 16:24 L3ftyk03 (WTT) 2015 Honda CRF250L
<- also photos
2015 Honda CRF250L with 7796 miles.
I bought this bike with the intent to go off-roading in the pine barrens with my brother, but then had a kid and now having another… so on the chopping block it goes..
Accessories on the bike: - FMF Power Core exhaust and FMF Power Bomb header -JD Jetting fuel tunner -RaceTech .50kg front spring (new fork seals from all balls racing and Spectro Gold 85/150 5w fork oil when this was installed on both shocks) -EBC clutch plates & heavy duty springs (replaces and removes the judder plate) -Flatland racing skid plate -Kemi Moto luggage rack -Fender eliminator w/ LED tail light and turn signals -Tusk wrap around aluminum hand guards with built in turn signals -LED turn signal flasher relay -LED headlight -Blue Sea 12v plug with 3D printed holder next to dash -Michelin Anakee Wild front and rear tire (approximately 100-150 miles on them) -13 tooth front sprocket -EVAP canister and lines removed and plugged off (original parts included in box should you wish to reinstall them) -Moose racing handle bar
Only issue the bike has is that the stickers I put on it are peeling.. I didn’t read the directions to apply heat after they have been put on to set them, rather then stretch with heat like I did…
Willing to meet up within reasonable distance.
Looking for PVS14 as partial trade.
TV: $4,400 SV: $4,200
My apologies I will edit post to include, but SE PA 19525. Willing to meet within few hours drive…
submitted by L3ftyk03
to GunAccessoriesForSale [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 14:46 Kerak Challenge #74 - 1993 Ford Mustang SVT Cobra R - "Solid Snake"
IMPORTANT NOTE: I used TCS on this build, and immediately improved by like 5 seconds. Do not try this build without TCS, or you are going to have a bad time! I mean, it's a 700hp RWD dirt Mustang. Gotta have TCS to keep this snake's tail from hitting every wall on the track! :P
This is the first car I tried, and it felt pretty good. It's no Shelby Cobra 427 - that thing is just bonkers - but it's pretty solid (get it?).
urrent best time is 2:23.702 on Orogrande. I (and the car) can do better, but this week I have not had time to spend more time on this track or this car, sadly. Enjoy!
1993 Ford SVT Cobra R - A 800
View this tune on optn.club
|Stats || |
|Weight ||2678 lbs |
|Balance ||53% |
|HP ||701 |
|Torque ||702 lb-ft |
|Top Speed ||183.4 mph |
|0-60 ||5.440s |
|0-100 ||10.097s |
|Conversions || |
|Engine ||6.2L V8 |
|Drivetrain ||Stock |
|Aspiration ||Twin Turbo |
|Body Kit ||N/A |
|Engine || |
|Intake ||Street |
|Fuel System ||Stock |
|Ignition ||Stock |
|Exhaust ||Race |
|Camshaft ||Stock |
|Valves ||Stock |
|Displacement ||Stock |
|Pistons ||Stock |
|Twin Turbo ||Race Anti-lag |
|Intercooler ||Stock |
|Oil Cooling ||Stock |
|Flywheel ||Stock |
|Platform And Handling || |
|Brakes ||Stock |
|Springs ||Rally |
|Front Arb ||Race |
|Rear Arb ||Race |
|Chassis Reinforcement ||Race |
|Weight Reduction ||Race |
|Drivetrain || |
|Clutch ||Stock |
|Transmission ||Sport |
|Driveline ||Race |
|Differential ||Offroad |
|Tires And Rims || |
|Compound ||Offroad |
|Tire Width ||Front 245 mm, Rear 345 mm |
|Rim Style ||Sport Team Dynamics Racing COTF |
|Rim Size ||Front Stock in, Rear Stock in |
|Track Width ||Front Third, Rear Third |
|Profile Size ||Front Stock, Rear Stock |
|Aero and Appearance || |
|Front Bumper ||Forza |
|Rear Bumper ||Street |
|Rear Wing ||Forza |
|Side Skirts ||N/A |
|Hood ||Street |
|Tires ||bar ||psi |
|Front ||1.31 ||19.0 |
|Rear ||1.24 ||18.0 |
|Gears ||Ratio |
|Final Drive ||4.00 |
|Alignment ||Camber ||Toe ||Caster |
|Front ||-0.7° ||0.1° ||7.0° |
|Rear ||-0.5° ||0.0° || |
|ARBs || |
|Front ||15.0 |
|Rear ||25.0 |
|Springs ||kgf/mm ||lbs/in ||n/mm |
|Front ||53.5 ||299.5 ||524.5 |
|Rear ||48.9 ||274.0 ||479.8 |
|Ride Height ||cm ||in |
|Front ||21.8 ||8.6 |
|Rear ||21.8 ||8.6 |
|Damping ||Rebound ||Bump |
|Front ||8.4 ||2.7 |
|Rear ||7.7 ||2.5 |
|Aero ||kgf ||lb |
|Front ||101.2 ||223.0 |
|Rear ||171.9 ||379.0 |
|Brakes ||% |
|Balance ||50% |
|Pressure ||100% |
Formatted text generated by the OPTN.club Tune Formatter
|Differential ||Accel ||Decel |
|Rear ||100% ||35% |
Submit bugs, feature requests, and questions on Github
submitted by Kerak
to ForzaOpenTunes [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 12:31 LaticusLad Time Marches Ever Onward
(Sentences or phrases bordered with bracket [ ] symbols indicate inner monologue!)Thank you u/SpacePaladin15
for creating this wonderful universe! The Marching of Time
Memory transcription subject: James Willik, Human historian
Date [standardized human time]: July 13, 2165
In my life, I’ve learned the depths to which tyrants will go to keep their power. After the war against the Federation, almost everyone had. For centuries, the Federation had lied, manipulated, stolen, murdered, done anything no matter the moral cost, to keep its citizens in its grasp, to stay in control. But they made one fatal mistake, one misstep that would loosen their hold on their slaves just long enough for someone to step in and challenge them. That mistake was angering Mankind.
When the dust had settled and the bullets had stopped flying, the UN found treasure troves of stolen knowledge all across the home-systems of the founders of the Federation, the Kolshians and Farsul. Endless libraries of atrocities done and culture stolen, of memories erased and lives destroyed. So much irreversible damage done just to keep their people locked in mental chains.
This is why early in life I decided to become a historian. I wanted to uncover and reintroduce the cultures, ideas, and truths that the Federation had wanted to burn to ash. At the age of 19, I was accepted into the then newly opened Meiers Institute of Knowledge. MIK was named after the former leader of the UN, a man who was described as compassionate and caring by nearly everyone who met him, said to be a hero. The MIK was built to let those ideas blossom forth, by providing unrestricted knowledge and education to anyone that wanted it.
During my time at MIK, because of the instruction and guidance provided by my teachers, my distrust of non-humans slowly faded. I made friends and learned things I would remember for the rest of my days. Several years later I reluctantly left the college that had become my home with a doctorate in history.
I’m now 31 years old, and several days ago I received a message from the UN Office of the Historian, stating that I and several others had been invited to the new capitol building on Aafa for a special job offering.
As I wake, I notice how cold I feel.[Had I left the window open last night?] I think to myself. I rub my eyes and grab for my blanket, only managing to grab a handful of cloth from my shirt. I open my eyes to properly aim for the blanket this time only to witness an empty room.
No… That isn’t the correct way to describe it…This isn’t an empty room, this is the lack of a room. All around me is nothing but darkness.
I try to lift myself off my bed only to realize there is nothing beneath me. I’m the only matter that I can see in this void.
[What the fuck. What the fuck!?]
I begin panicking as my brain fully switches on, only now am I fully awake and aware of my situation. I flail my limbs around, trying to turn myself around to no avail as I float through the emptiness. I try to take in a breath only to inhale nothing. Vivid memories of nearly drowning at a vacation by the beach fill my mind. The space in my brain is packed full of questions by now.
[Wha- what the hell is happening? Where’s the air? How am I alive? Is this a dream?]
I begin calming down, wildly flailing my arms and legs is going to do nothing for me. A glow begins illuminating the backside of my arms, heating them like warm sunlight. I try to turn around, somehow managing to do so this time.
Light sears itself into my very soul as I stare forward at the object before me. I am seated at the edge of a star, its radiance beaming itself onto me as if it is some divine judge weighing the sins of my heart. Tendrils of superheated plasma ripple around it, like arms through water, effortlessly keeping the orb afloat.
A thunderous whisper echoes through the twisting and winding corridors of my mind. Paradoxically seeming both deafening and silent simultaneously. It is in a language I have never heard before and yet I understand the message all the same.
“Find us. We await.”
For the second time today, I wake up. This time I am in my warm bed in my home on Venlil Prime. The memory of the star does not fade away, as the imagery in my dreams usually do.
I stretch and drag my legs off the side of the bed, acclimating my eyes to the ever-present twilight of the Venlil homeworld. I grab a picture frame holding an old photo of me and my parents off my bedside table. Their smiles warming me slightly. I hug the picture-frame into my chest. It’s been 3 years but I still miss them every day. “I wish you were still here, so much. I hope I made you proud.”
I perform my daily routine and get myself tidy before putting on my clothes. Today is the day that the UN is sending a ship to pick me up. I've gotta look my best if I’m gonna be meeting such important people. I walk through the main hallway of my house, glancing at the art adorning the walls as I pass by. Ever since the knowledge that the Federation has been performing cultural genocide for centuries became public, the market for historians and other professions tasked with discovering the past sky-rocketed. Despite the high pay though, my house was relatively small. A bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room, and some various utility and storage rooms was all I needed. I didn’t need a fancy living-space, that wasn’t what made me happy. What made me happy was the work I was doing for the people of the Coalition. Bringing back art and stories from ancient times, reintroducing species to a past and culture that they could be proud of. THAT was what fueled me.
I looked at my holopad and realized I only had 15 minutes before my ship arrived at the spaceport. I hurriedly filled a reusable cup with coffee and rushed out the door, no time for breakfast. I hopped in my car, buckled my seatbelt, turned my key, and backed out of the driveway onto the street, speeding down the road as fast as the anti-grav engine in my car would allow me. There is no way I’m missing an opportunity like this.
As I drove, the spaceport came into view. It towered above all the buildings surrounding it, making them seem miniscule in comparison. Ships swarmed around the structure like bees around a hive, loading and unloading cargo and passengers alike.
I drew into a parking space in the underground garage. Removing my key and deactivating my vehicle. I slammed the door shut perhaps a little too hard and locked the doors with my keyfob as I sprinted towards the elevators to the top of the port. It took the lift around 50 seconds to travel nearly 300 stories into the sky. I bolted out of the barely opened doors, startling a Venlil couple and nearly knocking over an older looking man wearing a suit. I blurted out an apology and quickly said I was late before dashing off, the man looking more confused than annoyed.
I took a quick look at my holopad. 2 minutes. As I ran, I glanced at the signage on the walls. 587 588 589 560! I made my way into the hangar, straightening out my tie as I walked through the doors. I tried to hide how out of breath I was, these suits were not
made for running. The ship was sleek and quite large, undoubtedly suited for luxury purposes, the UN did not spare any expense for its guests it seemed.
I walked up the boarding ramp and as the airlock opened, a man stood there to greet me. He was an older gentleman, slightly taller than me. He smiled and outstretched his hand. “Hello, I take it that you’re James! The ship is ready for you to depart. My name is Harold and I’ll be your attendant for the flight. ”He spoke enthusiastically with a southern drawl. I grasped the man’s hand and shook it. “I hope I didn’t take too long to arrive.” “Don’t worry son, you’re fine. It’ll take a couple days to reach Aafa so make yourself comfortable, down the hall behind me is the bar, lounge, and eating area, and further down are the sleeping quarters with accompanying bathrooms. ”Before I could respond, Harold spoke again. “There’ll be another passenger onboard, allow me to take you to them.”
The man stepped aside and followed as I walked down the hall to the lounge. The room was quite large, filled with expensive looking furniture and art. To my right was a small dining table and beyond that a kitchen. I looked to my left and felt my heart skip a beat as I locked eyes with a small Venlil with speckled white wool and orange eyes. She stared back, looking equally shocked.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________This is my first time posting on here, any advice on story-presentation or formatting is welcome!
submitted by LaticusLad
to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 09:09 ToaChronix New bullet points are glitchy and break the formatting of some messages. Is there a way to disable them?
Apparently dashes at the start of a line will automatically turn into bullet points when you post a message now. This could be useful in some cases, but it doesn't work properly sometimes and it'd be nice to have options.
I'm seeing some weird issues where if I post a list that uses spoiler tags it's adding empty lines between the lines of text which weren't there before, and parts of the text are invisible until you un-spoiler them (as in there's no black bar, just nothing). And in some places the bullet points, despite the dashes being within a spoiler tagged section of text, are visible anyway. It's generally acting quite strangely.
Example with comparison to how it used to be: https://imgur.com/a/ALni415
submitted by ToaChronix
to discordapp [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 04:01 CornerCornea Wedding Nightmares. Night Wedding.
I'm recently engaged to a beautiful woman named Larissa who makes my head swirl. Looks, personality, and a similar taste in food, I mean she had it all. For my birthday last year I got to drive one of those Lamborghinis across the track, and fire a round out of an Abram tank. A tank round! I'm not much of a gun aficionado, but a tank round!
Which was all the worst, when 3 weeks before the wedding I had to tell my drop dead gorgeous fiancée that I needed to leave for a couple of days.
It's not an easy thing for a bride to swallow: juggling food prep, alterations, cancellations, seating arrangements, two sides of the family, busy bodies, food allergies, one aunt that won't stop calling, and another one that keeps asking if her wearing white to our wedding as she's sort of the matriarch of the family was going to be a problem (side note: we told her multiple times that it was not okay). The list goes on, trust me.
So when my fiancee asked for an explanation. I had to tell her the truth no matter how terrible it sounded. It wouldn't feel right knowing that the precursor to our marriage was a lie.
"Is it kids? Oh God, do you have a little Jimmy running around somewhere? No, Jim. I can't handle this right now."
"Lars, what? No. It's not a kid."
She was peeling and stamping invitations in our tiny 625 square foot apartment. "Well then what is it? I thought we agreed to no bachelor parties. I thought. We agreed that those were for people who were ready for a wedding but not the marriage. I don't care if it's tradition." She stamped the envelop extra hard.
"No, it's nothing like that. Trust me." I shuddered just thinking about it. "It's not any kind of thing I would be doing if I didn't have to."
She glared at me, "But you have to."
The table shook again. "Okay. So spit it out." She handed me a few envelopes. "If it's not a kid. And it's not a bachelor party. Then what is it?" She scoffed, "It's not like you're married right?" Her smile slowly started leaving her face, "Oh my God." She crumpled an envelop against her forehead. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Don't you Larissa me!" She looked me right in the eye, "Tell me I'm not the other woman Jim!"
"Well not technically."
"What does that even mean," she exasperated. "Go on, tell me how it's not technically."
So several years ago I was straight out of college. I could have worked some menial desk job and climbed the corporate ladder. But the idea of never leaving my home town ate me up.
So when an ad for native English speakers to come teach on some remote island presented itself to me. I jumped at the opportunity. Next thing I know I was booking a one way ticket to begin my new life as an expat.
In my head, I thought I was going to land, check into my hotel, enjoy the sights, and come the first Monday walk to the nearest English Cram school and get a job on my good looks alone.
On Monday, the school I went to, the hallways were packed with other Americans, British, Australians, and I think some Canadian was squishing himself into one of the tiny student chairs. All waiting for a job interview.
The next place was like that as well.
So was the next.
By the end of the first week I was beat. Tired and defeated, I thought my luck had run out. So I did what any 20 something would in a brand new city. I hit the bars. I hit them hard.
After the last place kicked me out as they closed I was stumbling around trying to make my way back to the hotel. Grumbling, groggy eyed and trying not to vomit all over the street. When something shiny caught my eye.
It was a silk red purse with gold embroidery tied with a thick yarn. There weren't many people out this late. But everyone who passed by it acted as if it wasn't even there. Like they didn't see it or something.
The bag alone looked like it was worth something. At the time all I was thinking was that, maybe someone would trade a drink for it, as my pockets were empty and all I wanted was for my head to be the same way.
I stumbled as inconspicuously as possible, or as much a drunk guy could finesse and made my way toward the bag. Looking around the entire time, making sure no one was running up claiming that it was theirs, or worse calling me a thief and have me thrown in jail in a different country.
And when no one did, I finally scooped it up and untied it. To my surprise, the bag was filled with money. Bright colorful bills with huge figures even at the current exchange rate. And there was even gold. Some rubies. I took one out and bit into it, almost breaking my tooth.
I couldn't believe how my luck had changed. I flipped through the cash and realized that there was enough to fund my trip for a few extra weeks. AND get me a plane ticket back home. The jewelry even, seemed sizeable.
There I was in one of the lowest, darkest moments. And a pot of gold seemingly dropped out of the sky for me. Thoughts of finding its real owner never even occurred to me.
I was quickly pocketing the thing and planning to high tail it out of there when a frail old man approached me from the shadows. Now I had learned some of the language before hand, but I couldn't understand what he was saying.
He kept smiling though and patting my shoulder, spouting words so quickly that if they weren't already gibberish to me, they would still make no sense in my drunken state.
I fumbled the bag around before juggling it into the crook of my arm, in order to reach my phone to help translate what the hell the old guy was trying to tell me.
The translation caught him mid sentence but all I needed was to hear one word back then and I regurgitated the last couple of hours all over the sidewalk and blacked out.
When I came to, I was back at the hotel with a killer hang over. I was wondering how I made it back when I remembered faintly of the old man helping me. That's when I remembered the pouch and my eyes darted around the room and to my relief, "It wasn't just a dream." The pouch was there, full and plump with a few bills sticking out from the throat.
Next to it was a note, that I would later translate to read about a woman who had turned 18 that year. The numbers 3 and 13 were inscribed as well. Her approximate height, which seemed weird. I mean, why would they go through all this trouble and not just tell me her actual height? Her name, her sign, and her address.
I was completely fucking baffled at all of this information, when I suddenly remembered my phone. I pulled it out and looked up the last thing still on my screen, which was a translation from Google. It read: my future son-in-law. I am so happy you've agreed to marry my daughter. Don't forget to come to the wedding.
No wonder I passed the fuck out.
I shook my head and checked the purse again. Yeah there must have been close to 5 grand in there. Not including the gold, the rubies, or a jade piece I found at the bottom.
Whatever was going on. I had no clue. But I sure as hell wasn't about to get married to some girl I didn't know. Even if I did need the money.
So I used a bit of the cash to get a taxi to the address. When I arrived, the old man saw me from his courtyard. He was smiling and happy, pointing and calling for someone inside the house. A few seconds later a short lively woman appeared. And she was just as happy to see me.
I didn't know what was happening but next thing I do know was they surrounded me in a hug. Happy and joyous, bouncing and wobbling, enough for me to almost hurl again, which I did, except this time I swallowed it.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on. But the note says something about marriage."
The pair looked at each other and exchanged a series of phrases. "Marriage," the old man finally enunciated.
I nodded. Then shook my head. "No, not marriage."
We went back and forth in a similar manner for awhile before the woman ran off to get someone. When she returned with a young man about 14 or 15, wearing glasses and sporting a bowl cut, he explained to me about the pouch.
"It's a tradition in this area for a ghost dowry. I think that is how you say it."
"A ghost dowry?"
"Yeah. In our area. When a daughter dies really young, especially as an infant. THe parents will start saving money for her ghost dowry. Because we believe that when she turns 18, she'll return and ask to be married off."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"No, it's quite common. Mostly everyone knows about it. Which is why they don't pick up the pouch. Not unless they're really in need of money."
"I'm really in need of cash kid, but I'm not about to get married. I'm especially not getting married to some...girl that passed away." I handed him the money but he wouldn't even touch it. Avoiding it like some kind of plague. I even tried handing it back to the old man but he kept pushing the pouch back at me and shaking his head.
The kid shrugged, "You can't give it back. Those are the rules. Once you've picked it up, you've accepted the dowry and MUST get married."
"Why me," I asked rhetorically.
"She chose you."
"What? Okay. Listen kid. What if I don't get married? Are they going to report me to the cops or sue me?"
"So I can just walk away?"
The kid shrugged again, "You'll be back."
"I'm not sure. But from the stories I've heard. The groom to be always comes back. It might take awhile, but he does. Sometimes it's because he's traditional himself and his family tells him he must do the right thing. Other times he comes back because the girl won't leave him alone."
"Won't leave him alone?"
"Yeah. They say that the bride will come find the man at the hour of her birth, haunting him until he returns and agrees to fulfill his end of the bargain."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Sure. I'm sure that's it kid. Either way. I can't take this money knowing what it's for." I put it on the table. "Please tell him that I wish their family luck in fulfilling their tradition. Also, tell them that I'm sorry for using some of the money for the cab fare. I had no other choice to return what is theirs."
The boy shrugged a third time, "It's yours now. You should take it. What are you going to do? Walk all the way back?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do."
"It'll be dark by then," he added. "She could come find you."
"I'll be fine. And plus what if she was born in the day time?"
"They only come at the dark time of her birth hour. If she was born in the afternoon. She'll come at midnight," he shouted after me as I left.
I tried not to think about everything that's happened to me this past week as I walked back. But it wasn't a rocks throw by any stretch. Which gave me plenty of time to think. About my maxed out credit cards, the hotel stay winding out by the end of the week, and of course the wedding.
By the time that I got back to the hotel I was a tired, hot mess. I was also hungry and my feet were swollen as they were unused to the tropical heat. But I was sure glad that the showers were already paid up. I took an extra long one before crashing into my bed. Snacking on a candy bar I had brought from back home.
I turned on some tv and tried not to let the impending doom of being kicked out on the streets bother me too much. As a plan began brewing in my head on who I'd call in a few hours when it was morning stateside. A few people still owed me favors back home, which I hoped they would be good for, which I hoped was good enough to get me back home.
Several times I dozed off as the tv buzzed in the background. Each time I woke up staring at the bright red alarm clock blaring its red angry dashes at me. By the third or fourth time my head jerked me awake as it fell to my chest. I looked up to see the time on the clock. It was 3:12. When something clicked in my head and I fished for the note still in my back pocket.
18 this year.
I stopped reading and glanced back up at the clock. The little kids words reaing in my ear. "She comes at her death hour."
I waited, not realizing that I was holding my breath until I felt my lungs start to burn.
In a blink the clock changed and I glanced around as if waiting for something to happen. But nothing happened. My stomach suddenly growled, echoing in the empty room and I laughed, "Maybe I should have just taken the money."
Came a knock from the motel door.
My heart was caught in my chest. The main artery was constricted and wouldn't let go.
I was shaking in my bed, too afraid to move or answer the door.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
It went on like this a full 4 minutes before it stopped. WHen it had finally stopped I tried getting out of bed, but I couldn't. For a second I was afraid to look down, afraid that her hand would be there holding me in place so that we could elope.
But it was just my hand clenching the bed sheets so tightly that I couldn't budge. I had to use my other hand to pry my own fingers off in order to creep slowly to the door and look into the eyehole.
It felt blurry as I blinked my eye, trying to clear it. Tears had welled at the corners without me realizing it. I wiped them away and slowly, reluctantly bent down and stared into the peephole.
No one was there.
But for the next 3 days. My door would knock. It didn't matter if I was on the bed, or in the bathroom. The closet was the worst as the knocking felt like it was right against my face. It didn't even matter if I ran outside, as no one would be around within eyesight. The knocking would always find me.
On the fourth and last day of my stay. The door knocked right on time.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I felt the familiar twinge in my chest and my body was numb all over. But this time I was determined to take a look. And finally catch whoever or whatever it was that was playing this cruel joke on me.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I tried gettoung out of bed but I couldn't. I was too scared. Several times I glanced from the clock to the door. Afraid to take my eyes off the door for too long, afraid that she would come through it if I did. Afraid that I would miss her and she would haunt me forever. And as the clock started ticking down. I kept whsipering myself. "She's only here for four minutes. She's only here for four minutes." And it was almost 3:17.
Seconds before the clock changed I jumped out of bed. Determined to end this thing once and for all.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I didn't have time to look through the door. Even if I did I was afraid if I saw something there. I'd be too chicken to open the door. So I tore the band aid right off and swung the door open wide.
There was no one there.
But then from my corner cornea, something caught my eyes. A trail of something translucent was dragging away. I tried to take a step after it but my first step out of the door stopped me dead. My foot was drenched wet and it felt sticky beneath my sock. The coldness of it traveled up my spine, and to this day I can only describe it as the feeling of something metal scraping across my vertebrate. By the time I looked up, the wisps were gone. ANd the trail it left behind was already drying.
That night I couldn't sleep a wink. I waited until morning came and took to the streets. Desperate to find the old couple's house. Stopping several times to ask for directions and circling around streets and street signs that I couldn't read until I heard a familiar voice.
"I told you you'd be back."
"Kid," I grabbed him.
"Whoa. You look like you've seen a ghost." His eyes grew wide as he looked me over. "So the stories are true!" He didn't waste any more time. "Come on," he called after me. Leading me down the street and to the old couples courtyard. The pouch was still on the table outside where I had left it days ago.
The kid knocked on the door and shouted until the old man answered. He was still in his sleeping clothes when he saw my face, and his demeanor completely changed. He was so happy to see me. Opening the door wider and ushering us inside.
"Tell him I want it to stop," I told the kid. "Tell him I want her to leave me alone."
The kid translated but the old man shook his head before speaking. The kid looked at me and said, "He says then 'Marry her'."
"I can't do that!"
"Then she'll never leave you alone."
"She just going to keep knocking on my door? Forever?"
The kid turned to the old man and told him in their language what I said. The old man gripped his cane and tapped it once lightly on the ground, almost as if he were proud, before he told the boy who then told me, "She's a kind and gentle soul. He knew she would be. If she's only knocking on your door so far."
"So far? So far? Okay. What? Fuck. So then what? What happens if I marry her?"
The kid asks the old man and after a few words were exchanged he turned to me, "Then you will be wed."
"yeah. I get that. But what does that really mean?"
The kid clicks his tongue, "From what I understand. I think it means you'll have to honor her every month."
"Honor her? How? Like make a sacrifice? A blood sacrifice or something?"
The kid laughed, "No. Just Bai Bai. I don't know how to say it. Pray?".
"Pray to her?"
"Acknowledge her. Talk to her wooden nameplate. It's what serves as a gravestone for our dead."
"So just pray to her once a month, and that's it?"
The kid talks to the old man for awhile before turning back to me. "Yeah. That, and you'll be blessed."
"Yeah. Not sure about that one."
"Okay. Fine. What else. Like what if I want a girlfriend someday. Or get married. Have kids. Can I not do that? Will she haunt me? Haunt them?"
The kid asks the old man before turning to me, "Not if you ask for her permission. In a ghost dowry, you're allowed to have concubines. As long as she is consulted first and agrees."
I shake my head, "This is fucking crazy."
The kid shrugs. I seem to get the feeling he likes to shrug. "It's either that or she keeps haunting you."
I mulled that over in my head. "Shit." I stomped around the courtyard. "Okay. Fine. Fine! What do I need to do?"
The kid looks up at the sky. "We'll have to prepare."
"What? But it's already late. I want to get it over with as soon as possible. I don't want to wait another night of her coming to my door."
The kid smiles, "Don't worry. You won't. This kind of wedding can only happen at night."
For the next several hours I waited. Watched as neighbors and family. Cousins. Came to help. Food was brought in. Large round tables were set outside the courtyard. A tailor came and measured me up, twice. Decorations were strung and the sun began to fall.
When night came, the people who had gathered were tired but pleased with themselves that they had finished. I was asked to change into my wedding clothes and to wait outside the door of the couple's house until called. The lanterns behind me burning and the smell of food wafted in the air.
I waited until the doors finally opened.
Inside I saw the old man and the old woman start constructing something before a traditional wooden shrine at the back of the room.
They started with the legs. Sewn pieces of white cloth. The torso. The arms. And finally the head. When it was put together, the couple slipped on a white dress over the effigy they had constructed. Then the old woman went off through one of the side doors and returned with a box. From inside the box she withdrew a folded blanket. It looked faded but the edges were crisp and completely clean. The old man reach into the box and removed a sickly green thread that seemed to stick to his fingers, from it hung tiny strands of black hair, which he stuck gently to the back of the effigy's head.
The woman threw the blanket over its face, covering it.
Then the old couple turned to me and beckoned me forward. I looked behind me and none of the other guests moved.
Even the kid stood next to the door, unwilling to step inside as I entered.
I walked slowly up, next to the effigy until we stood side by side.
The old woman turned toward the shrine where a wooden plaque stood at the table. On it were three character words that I couldn't read. And she began to speak, the kid behind us translated in suit.
"Dear daughter. Mother is glad that you're finally being wed off. Though Mother will miss you as a girl. I am so glad of the woman that you have become. I am so proud of you. Please, continue to make me proud." She sighed. "When you were born I was so happy. Even if you only lived for a few short minutes. And I am sorry that the fates have been cruel to you. But I am thankful that they at least showed mercy enough to give you a husband. Take care my sweet girl."
"We love you," the father finished.
The old couple hands me a bowl. Inside are small boba looking balls swimming in a clear soup.
The kid behind me, "It's tradition to take a bite, and then feed your bride."
I looked at the old couple and they nodded at me, motioning for me to eat. I dipped my spoon in and took a mouthful. Chewing slowly. And swallowing.
Then they motioned for me to feed her.
I dipped my spoon again. And awkwardly raised it towards her. Slipping it under her veil to where her lips would be. Pretending to feed her.
Now I watched them put this thing together. Besides the creepy hair and the swaddling cloth for a veil. It was nothing more than cloth and stuff. I knew this.
At least that was what I thought until I heard it chew.
I could hear her jaws sticking as they moved up and down. The room was dark but signs of the veil moving completely terrified me. I couldn't even hear the people breathing behind me or the lanterns burning. All I could hear was her chewing.
When she finished. There was silence. Then everyone cheered.
After that, it was like any normal wedding I had attended. The guests poured in and I shook just about everyone's hand. Hugging complete strangers. My new parents. And even the kid.
Then we ate and drank, for almost a week. Someone was sent to get my things from the hotel and I stayed with my in-laws for the remainder of my stay. Which turned out to be several years. Because the following week I was offered as job as an English instructor at a nearby school.
I was told the principal owed the old couple a favor, but something told me that it wasn't the whole story.
I enjoyed my work at the school but didn't stay for long. As I started traveling to film a documentary about the local cuisine after a few of my YouTube videos mysteriously went viral as an expat who tried weird but delicious treats.
Eventually, my in-laws passed away. First it was mom. And four days later dad followed suit. I lived alone in the house for awhile, before I hit the jackpot at the weekly supermarket draw from one of my receipts. That, along with selling the house, was enough for me to go back to America and start a brand new life. Where I opened several shabu shabu restaurants that were met with great success.
"Eventually meeting you during one of my rounds."
My fiancée who had been listening to my story slack jawed the entire time couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Bull-fucking-shit!" She slapped me playfully across the arm. "You are such a good fucking liar!" She laughed. "I've always heard about guys not wanting to help out about the wedding arrangements. But this one takes the fucking cake. I'm going to post this in the group chat tomorrow. Bra-vo."
I laughed with her. "Yeah. That's it. It's just a great story."
"Now finish this up and let's go upstairs," she commanded. We stamped the last envelopes and went to bed. She was still laughing sporadically as I closed the door to our bedroom. "Knock knock," she joked.
I humored her, "Knock knock."
And we watched tv until she fell asleep.
I made sure she was sound asleep, before I gently crawled out of bed and put on my slippers. Softly opening the door and closing it behind me as I walked through the house. Down to the first floor. Then to the basement. Where I pulled the key I kept around my neck and slipped it into the lock.
Inside the basement was bare, except for two chairs and some boxes that I had taken from the old house, and the table, and the small wooden plaque that had my first wife's name inscribed on it in her native language.
"I'm going to get married soon," I told her. "She's a great person. Funny. Beautiful. And devoted. Kind of like you." I held the wood plaque in my hands. "I hope you approve." I waited as if she would answer. But she didn't. Never in all the years we've been married. "I can't go back home to ask for your permission. But I hope that this is enough." I looked at her name, almost longingly. As I had grown quite attached to our time together. "And I hope that this will be the last time we talk as I move on with my life. Thank you so much," I told her as I put her away."
Months flew by, and I never revisited the basement. Knowing full well that I had missed our visiting days. Though I'd often catch myself talking to her on some tough days. But nothing bad happened, by not seeing her plaque. Nothing bad at all.
Soon the wedding day was upon us. And it was a great party, as great as the best there ever was. Great good. Great company. And tons and tons of alcohol.
Larissa and I were giggling at the end of it, drunk as we stumbled upstairs from the venue to the presidential suite. Laughing all the way, kissing, barely able to keep our hands off each other as we got into our room.
My new bride pushed herself off me as we entered the threshold, and sprawled herself on the bed. Her legs rubbing against each other as her eyes invited me to come closer. I propped a knee on the bed to join her.
We both shot our eyes to the door and then at the table side where the clock blared at us an angry red of 3:13.
Larissa looked up at me with a horrified look. I could see her bottom lip quivering.
"Hello," I called out. With my back to the door. "Sam? Bobby?" But no one answered. "Room service?"
submitted by CornerCornea
to nosleep [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 03:40 lafreniereluc Sea-Doo Steering Pad Mount(s) - 2023 GTX
I just purchased a Sea-Doo GTX 230. I was trying to find ways to mount my phone to the handlebars, ideally in the middle. My goal was to have a low profile, VERY solid mount. I considered and tried a few different things, but these two were my favorite designs.
I realized the sticky mount (last two pictures) would work but the base was simply too large for the area. But I figured I'd show people in case they have a use case. You could also trim the base to make it smaller via Dremel or other. To make, I bought one of those dash suction cup bases that comes with the super strong 3M VHB tape (thicker than the phone ones, so they REALLY stick to textured surfaces and such). I took the Universal Bar Mount, removed the four screws in the back. Then aligned the the holes on the base plate and drilled them precisely. Then, re-purposed the exact same screws. The VHB tape is thick enough that the heads of the screws are actually flush with the tape. Works quite well!
The other idea took a bit more work, but it worked AMAZINGLY well for this purpose. I purchased heavy duty bungee straps designed for furniture webbing. It's really strong stuff. I got a matching set of buckles and one of those black metal plates that people stick on their phones to have them attach to those (meh) magnet phone mounts.
I first aligned and drilled four holes precisely on the black metal plate. Then placed the plate on the bungee strap and melted holes using a soldering iron. Then I sandwiched the bungee strap between the Peak Design SlimLink and the black metal plate. I could have used the same screws, but they are bevelled and I didn't want to scratch my Sea-Doo. So I used identical sized screws with round tops instead which I happen to have (M3 is the size).
I would say I sewed one end (but in reality, my wife is the expert here), then tested the fit, adjusted the other end until I had to stretch it quite tight to get it to click, and marked it. My wife sewed the other end at that spot.
Finally, placed a piece of Gorilla tape just to make sure no sharp edges stick out against the Sea-Doo foam pad.
Voià! A very secure, custom made mount that holds incredibly well. I went for a SUPER rough ride today actually in extremely choppy conditions. The phone was rock solid, didn't wiggle or anything. I'm extremely pleased and there's no holes or glue on the Sea-Doo. Which is nice considering it's brand new.
submitted by lafreniereluc
to peakdesign [link] [comments]
2023.06.04 03:32 metaldrumcore 3rd gen dodge value
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I picked up another diesel in a trade but honestly I don't like the 3rd gen near as much as the 1st or 4th gen dodges and prefer my power stroke over a Cummins anymore. I have had to do over $1k in work to it just getting things straight and still needs 4x4 u-joints (clicks when engaged in 4x4 due to slop) and the fan clutch bearing is squeaking. KBB and NADA say it is worth between 12k and 14.5k ok private sale even though it has 361k miles. That's good condition. submitted by metaldrumcore to Diesel [link] [comments]
It has zero rust, one dent in the tailgate, a couple small dings in the passenger door and that's it. Interior is near perfect except for some light carpet staining. dash has no cracks.
Previous owner put brand new tires on it before selling it (less than 1k on them now), ranch hand front bumper, replaced the injectors, had a shop rebuild the transmission, studded it, deleted it, tuned it, fass fuel pump, g&r diesel sump pump kit, fuel pump delete, and bed lined it.
I got it aligned, replaced sway bar bushings, sway bar end links, front shocks, rear brake rotors/pads/parking brakes, replaced driver parking brake cable, replaced idletensionedrive belt, replaced turbo oil drain o-rings, and changed the oil.
It drives like a dream, pulls great, and is a good truck. Just not what I want. What price should it be at? I'm having a hard time selling it.
2023.06.03 23:03 KnightBreeze What I've Become: Chapter XI
Ja’vail woke up with a yawn, her eyes squinting in the evening light. Her room was positioned in the castle on the west side, to ensure that Tor’s sun would wake her up for her duties. It was a purpose that it served with perfection, despite the fact that she really would have liked to sleep for a few more minutes.
However, her duty could not be delayed. It was her power that served as the linchpin to Tor’s spell, and she would fulfill her duty to ensure her Diarchy’s, and her world’s, future. With a grunt of exertion, Queen Ja’vail rose from her bed, stretched out her wings, and moved to the balcony before picking up her robe. As soon as she was somewhat decent, the Queen of the Night then opened her wings, looked to the skies, and began channeling her power into the spellform that had been weaved between the planet and its moon, renewing the bonds that connected them, and ensuring the delicate balance between her magic and her husband’s would not come undone.
She performed this ritual twice a day, every day, to ensure the spell’s continued existence. In the past few months she had performed it well before Tor had performed his own renewal, and had had to go remind the foolish drake to not only perform his duties, but to hurry up and get his tail to bed. Without her efforts, and her constant reminder to the king, the entire thing would come undone, ensuring their planet’s rapid descent into division once again.
Without the two dakri turning the planet, the two sides would either become too hot or too cold to sustain life, with the twilight between them ruled by monsters birthed from the nightmares of the oppressed.
It was with some surprise, then, that as she poured her soul into this undertaking, she could feel the thrum of her husband’s power clear in her mind, letting her know that Tor had already renewed his half of the spell for the night. He really did need that sleep,
she thought, giving a self-satisfied nod towards the setting sun before turning back towards her private chamber. She still had much to prepare for her night; even with the most pressing matter out of the way, she still expected a full schedule. Her court wasn’t especially busy, as the dakri found the night to be the best time to sleep and prepare for the next day.
That was besides the point, though, as her duties rarely involved overseeing the day-to-day rule. Rather, her task was to patrol the ǣther, hunt the nightmares that plagued her people, and to do her best to heal the source of those nightmares.
This was especially important now that she had cleared the Forest of Yith and had located the source of that particularly violent nest. It was best to keep those nightmares from returning, and for this cause she was going to attempt to enter the survivor’s dreams again. She doubted she would have as much success this time as she had last time, simply because almost drowning had weakened the creature’s defenses significantly. However, she had faith that she would at least be able to soothe the visitor’s dreams, and possibly gain a little more information on how he thought.
At the very least, she’d settle for a name. She couldn’t just keep calling it ‘the creature’ or ‘the survivor,’ as those ‘names’ grew heavy on the tongue, and wore down her patience. A name would also help the visit she had planned go a lot smoother, and would hopefully help them as they tried to convince him to come to the castle with them.
Once Ja’vail was dressed, she left the comforts of her room and made her way to her husband’s study. As she expected, he was still there, his desk still quite messy, a combination of his daily paperwork and the reports of the crashed alien spaceship forming the majority of the clutter.
Much to Ja’vail’s surprise, however, Tor wasn’t at his desk. Instead, the drake was standing at his window, looking out over the countryside and the eerie sunset before him, a reminder of the twilight that his people had escaped. In his hand he held a memory crystal, its red glow plainly visible in the slowly darkening room.
“Tor, are you alright?” the queen asked as she approached her husband.
Tor turned to look at her, surprise on his face. “Oh, I am well enough, I suppose…” he said, clearly still lost in thought. The king then looked down at the memory crystal in his hand, his brows furrowing in displeasure. “I have just received some… unsettling news. I was actually waiting for your arrival before deciding on anything.”
Ja’vail took a few more steps, her eyes locked on her husband's diminutive form. “What happened?”
Tor looked at her, then back at the stone. “It isn't easy to say this, but… we may have to kill the visitor.”
Ja’vail felt like her stomach had turned to ice. “Kill? Tor, what madness are you spouting? What crime could he have possibly committed while I was asleep to earn him a death sentence?”
Tor looked at his wife, pain in his eyes. “Nothing, dear. He’s completely innocent. That is beside the point, however.”
“Then tell me, what madness has overtaken you that you would murder an innocent?” Ja’vail demanded, her tone brooking no argument. “Or what monster are you, to have taken the place of my Tor? I must say, you have the likeness down, but your impression of his mannerisms leave much to be desired.”
Tor let out a mirthless laugh at that. “No monster or madness, my dark princess. Just a visit from an old friend…” he sighed again, before turning and holding out the crystal for Ja’vail to take. “Lady Siv paid both me and the survivor a visit today. She left me this, as well as a decision to make.”
Ja’vail looked at the crystal, before staring back at her husband, a dubious expression on her face. "And she told you to kill him? I do not remember her being so heartless.”
“And you would remember correctly. She was nearly in tears when I met her, though she did well in hiding them,” Tor said, before approaching his wife. He gently took her hand, and placed the crystal in her palm. “When she saw the visitor, she also looked into his future. This is what she saw. Please, do not force me to bear this knowledge alone.”
Ja’vail’s expression softened ever so slightly before she glanced down at the stone in her hand. “I will look, but I do not promise anything.”
Tor’s crest rose, but he did not say anything else. Instead he turned back to the window, waiting patiently for his wife to see what he had seen.
The memory took Ja’vail less than a second to go through, but she felt like she had been gone for a lifetime when the world came back into focus. She stared at the rock in horror, before throwing it to the ground. It did not shatter, it being made of quartz, but it still felt satisfying after the horrors she had witnessed.
“I was not pleased, either,” Tor said, not even bothering to turn and look. “Even if the visitor was guilty of some crime, I would spare him for what he could teach our people. As it stands, he is lost and alone, hoping for a friend. And I have to kill this lonely soul.”
“But… but we can’t do this! You’re better than this… we’re better than this!” Ja’vail said, nearly in tears. “Would we really sacrifice an innocent for the security of our own realm? Would you… would you…”
“Would I what?” Tor asked, turning to his wife, fire in his eyes. “Would I judge the worth of souls? Would I weigh a single life against the good of my people? Of his people? Would I become my father?”
Ja’vail looked away, her eyes closed as she folded her arms. “I’m… I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be,” Tor said, turning back to the window. “You have no need to apologize. I cannot measure the worth of anyone’s soul, nor would I try. However, this visitor’s life is not worth the lives of every person on this planet. When you include the lives of his own world, as well as the unnamed snake people… well… the choice is quite obvious.”
Ja’vail looked down at the floor, her eyes filling with tears as she thought everything over. “Would it have been better, then, had I not saved his life? Should I have let him drown?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that the spirits have told us that the lives of others are better off if his is forfeit,” Tor said, his voice filled with bitterness. “I have not even seen this visitor in the flesh, and I do not know anything about him at all. What is he like? Does he have a family? What does he enjoy?” Tor asked, looking to his wife hopefully.
Ja’vail shook her head, not daring to bring her eyes up to meet her husband’s, as she didn’t think she could contain herself if she did. “I cannot say. I was only in his mind for a brief time, and I do not understand much of what I saw,” she said, her form gently shaking, as if a chill wind had entered the room.
Tor looked back at the window, his eyes closed as he thought on this. “Essentially, we are deciding the fate of not only an innocent, but a complete stranger.” Tor took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “And try as I might, I cannot measure his worth as greater, or even equal, to the lives of my people’s. If it comes to it, he will be slain, and his body destroyed, just as the spirits have told us to do.”
Ja’vail began crying in earnest, her shoulders slumping with the weight of guilt. This caused Tor to turn to her, lifting her beak gently with one hand until she looked him in the eye. “So… let’s ensure that it never comes to that.”
Ja’vail looked up at Tor, hope in her eyes. “But, Tor, we can’t-”
“Shhhh…” Tor said, encircling his wife in his arms. He was shorter than her, but she still felt comforted, simply because it was him. “I’m not going to murder someone simply because of the damage his life might
cause. Siv’s vision wasn’t that his continued existence spelled our doom, but that we must do everything in our power to ensure he doesn’t leave.” He pulled away from her a little, looking up into her hopeful eyes. “His death will be treated as a last resort, nothing more. For now, let us see how much worth his life
is. What can he teach us? What is his people like? I, for one, do not want to squander this opportunity that the spirits have gifted us, simply for fear of an unknown future.”
Ja’vail’s crest rose as she dried her tears with the feathers on the back of her arm. “Yes… I completely agree…”
The two of them spent quite a bit of time like that, lost in each other’s arms as the sun slowly set on the horizon. Even after the world was shrouded in night, they were still there, lost in the comfort that each other provided.
* * *
Kel’vara’s beak glowed as she wove her magic, pulling the water from the bucket in front of her. It coalesced into a ball hovering inches above her hand, the swishing, splashing sounds of the liquid a soothing counterpoint to the frustration she was feeling.
She liked working with liquids when she was feeling upset. It had always come easy to her, the seemingly chaotic way it flowed and ebbed was a balm on her nerves, instead of a frustrating mess that most other practitioners found the state of matter to be.
She slowly flexed her fingers and extended her wings, the movements giving a tactile presence to the shapes she was forming in her imagination. Slowly, as if watching ice melt in reverse, the ball of water stretched and flowed, extending here, twirling there, molding and shaping to her will to become whatever she wanted.
In this instance, the water took the shape of a dragon, its long, strong legs striding through the air as it looked around, its inquisitive, intelligent eyes searching for prey, or barring that, a dakri to play with. Its long tail wagged behind it as it seemed to spot something, before it shot off like an arrow, dashing towards whatever had garnered its attention.
The small, watery, facsimile of a dragon didn’t get very far across the room before the door opened, breaking Kel’vara’s concentration and causing her happy little pet to lose its cohesion. In an instant, the once watery, spiky, two legged reptile was nothing more than a mess on the once clean floor.
Kel’vara looked up in annoyance, her gaze falling upon an irritatingly unapologetic Valros as he entered the room. “Haven't you ever heard of knocking?” Kel’vara demanded as she used her magic to scoop up the water and return it to the bucket.
Valros was unimpressed. “Kel’vara, you can’t just stay here sulking, we still have work to do.”
“I’m not sulking! I’m just practicing my more precise spell work,” Kel’vara said, turning up her beak as her crest lay flat against the back of her head.
Valros, however, did not look convinced in the slightest. “Kel’vara, The Lady is her own person. You can hardly expect her to stay around and answer every single question you have.”
“I never said that she wasn’t.”
Valros let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, if you’re sure, then I really think we need to go over the plan for tomorrow,” Valros said, trying to get Kel’vara back on track. “I don’t think we’ll need many knights, the thing’s pretty docile, all things considered. Have you given much thought in how we’re going to actually communicate with it?”
Kel’vara thought about this for a while, her beak glowing softly as she played a little with the water in her bucket, causing the surface of the liquid to ripple in odd ways. “Ja’vail said that she was able to communicate pretty well with it while it was dreaming. The only problem with that is that it was dreaming.
I don’t know how dreams work with its species, but for dakri at least, anything that happens to our subconscious from outside forces is quickly forgotten. Bad dreams, flights of fancy, nothing to be taken seriously, or remembered.”
“I’ve been talking with the Captain of the Dreamguards about that too. He told me that we can’t rely upon that for communication, since we’re just as likely to get a straight answer as one about how the creature loves to eat its own pillow and ride a dragon made of Twirly Whirlys,” Valros said, stretching his wings a little and grunting with discomfort. The knight quickly brought his arm close to his chest, searching the broad wing until he found the feather that had been giving him trouble, and quickly put it back into its proper place.
Kel’vara found herself staring a little as the knight preened himself, before she turned away, her feathers fluffing a little in embarrassment. “Yes, and… ah, and in addition, the creature won’t be as weak as when we fished it from the river. It has an ǣon level spirit, after all, regardless of any actual ability it may or may not possess. We’ll be lucky to be able to intrude on its dreams at all.”
If Valros noticed her discomfort, he didn’t show it. Instead, he stood up and made his way to the window. “I remember the Sunrise Tribe had something to communicate, but it was mainly used to control their apprentices during ǣon training. It was supposed to be able to cross language barriers, but I don’t think we want to be dredging up the old ways…”
Kel’vara shuddered a little. “Those ways were barbaric.”
Valros nodded at her, but did not say anything as he stared out the window. “I suppose the only choice we have is to slowly teach the thing how to speak.”
“That’s not as easy as it sounds, though,” Kel’vara said, shaking her head. Valros looked at her, one of his brows raised, prompting her to continue. “When I treated his wounds, I ran a number of tests on him. He’s showing the symptoms of someone who has been transmuted into another shape entirely, except that he has no binding spellform keeping him in that shape.”
Valros looked confused at this. “You’ll have to forgive me, M'lady, but my knowledge of magic is somewhat limited to a handful of combat spells. You’ll have to use less formal terms with me.”
Kel’vara rolled her eyes a little, then used her magic to pull the water from the bucket again. With a thought, she caused the water to take on the shape of a dragon again. “With magic, it is possible to force something to assume another shape or state. Such as turning a dragon into a pig.” With a little exertion, the water took on the desired shape. “I’ll not bore you with the details, but things… well, they remember what they were. Always. If the spell is not properly maintained, the spellform will eventually fall apart, and the thing will revert. This is because things want to return to their old state. They’ll continue chipping away at the spellform, increasing the difficulty of keeping things in their altered state, until it grows beyond the mage’s ability to control. It’s why you cannot turn copper into gold and have it stay that way, or why you cannot turn dirt into food without accidentally poisoning someone.”
“Or purposefully poisoning someone,” Valros pointed out. “I remember history class at least. That happened quite a number of times during the Clan Wars.”
“It was a popular method of assassination, yes, but the old ruling class quickly caught on, and began screening their food before eating.” Kel’vara furrowed her eyes as she twisted the water to appear like the creature. “Whatever the bug-like aliens did to the creature, it didn’t involve magic. ‘The creature’s shape isn’t his own,’ if you remember what the queen told us. It’s entirely possible that it’s lost the ability to speak, even in its own language.”
Valros thought about this for a time. “Well, can’t we turn it back? Reverse the changes, and return it to its original shape?”
Kel’vara thought about this for a little bit, but shook her head. “It’s… possible, but there are so many unknowns. I was even afraid of using regeneration magic on him when I healed him. I had to resort to sealing spells to repair the damage.”
Valros looked confused. “I’m not sure I follow. I thought you healed it up pretty good.”
“I didn’t heal it at all.
All I did was fuse its skin together, and do some very basic repair based on that strategy, to keep it from bleeding internally or externally. It’s why I still applied bandages, in case those wounds reopened; I couldn’t risk regenerating it,” Kel’vara explained, her voice both pained and exasperated.
Valros still didn’t understand what the fuss was about, though. “Why not? What’s the big deal if you use a little regeneration? And what does this have to do with changing it back?”
” Kel’vara said, standing up in anger as she rubbed both hands through her crest. In response, the water in her grip twisted and flowed into strange shapes, a clear reflection of the tormented state of the battlemage’s mind. “This is an entirely unknown scenario, with an entirely unknown species! The spell to do this doesn’t even exist! All we have are spells to change something into something else, not to return something to its original shape. The way we would do this if this were a magical affliction would be to simply collapse the spellform, but this isn’t magic! If I were to try to change it back, any number of things could go wrong, the least being the creature dies a quick, painful death as it turns completely inside out! The closest I can come up with is the regeneration spell, which would force accelerated cell mitosis using the target’s remembered form, not its changed form. If I did use regeneration, it is entirely possible that the creature might revert…”
“...But?” Valros asked, knowing that there was a but in there somewhere.
“But the creature’s body might start attacking itself, killing itself from the inside out! The two different sets of genetic material might merge, making it into something even more monstrous than it is now! Any number of things could go wrong!” Kel’vara shouted, the water next to her turning into some kind of lumbering beast, whose basic shape only vaguely resembled the creature in the forest.
Valros held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay, I get it. It’s probably a bad idea… but what do we do, then?”
Kel’vara collapsed into her chair, the water that she had been shaping falling into the bucket at the same time. “I don’t know… I really don’t know…”
Valros rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, there’s always pictures and trying to teach it to read…”
“That would take even longer than just teaching it to talk,” Kel’vara said dismissively. “Especially since it probably can’t-”
Before Kel’vara finished, a voice chimed in, interrupting her thought process. It seemed to be coming from the lieutenant’s belt pouch, and based on the tone of the speaker’s voice, whatever it was was urgent. “Sir Valros! Are you there?”
Valros quickly pulled out his whispering stone and gave it a squeeze, worry building in his heart. “What’s wrong, Calis?”
He almost wished he hadn’t asked, because what Calis said next turned his insides to ice. “Sir, I’m relaying a message. Viar and his drakes need backup, and they need it now. It’s those bug aliens the queen told us about. They’re here.” First Previous
Dun dun dun!!
Remember: if you can't wait, and want to find out what happens now,
you can always just buy the books...
Amazon: What I've Become Nightmare of the Past
Google: What I've Become Nightmare of the Past
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2023.06.03 20:44 wakcedout Terrible service for dashers
Damn didn’t think a bar could be set so low. In responding I assume to fraud issue that hit DoorDash they’ve gone so over board that even the North Korean dictator is taking notes.
Worst part is DoorDash we “appeal” process is worse than pre elons twitter. The people who answer the phones in India are incapable of doing anything and DoorDash is sooo knee jerk on the is that they don’t even work with the dasher to completely verify. Essentially if someone has used my identity to start an account then DoorDash is part and parcel to aiding in identity theft. In trying to solve a problem DoorDash, you’ve made it worse.
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2023.06.03 18:47 HardGhoulem Kora the Mountain Monk(Anti-Diver Artillery Mage/Tank)
Passive: Inbalance Highlight: Whenever you deal damage to an enemy through abillities or autos you apply a stack of Inbalance on them for 6s refreshing with each further stack applied and stacking up indefinitely.
Inbalance: After 6 stacks, your enemy's Magic Resist is reduced by 10-20(Based on level)% and their Attack Damage and Abillity Power are reduced by 5-10(Based on level)%. Stacks after the 6th further increase the Magic Resist reduction by 1% and the Attack Damage and Abillity Power reduction by 0.5%.
Q - Orbs of Balance:
Cost: 50/45/40/35/30 Mana + 1 Orb of Balance
Passive***: Every 12/10/8/6/4s create an Orb of Balance up to 2/3/4/5/6 Orbs. These Orbs orbit around you and dealing 60/80/100/120/140(+50% AP) magic damage and marking enemies for 3s. Marked enemies only take 20% of the damage from the passive Orb orbit.
Active: Channel over this abillity's duration, immobilizing yourself, for every 0.45/0.4/0.35/0.3/0.25s channeled shoot one of your orbs dealing 30/40/50/60/70(+30% AP) Magic Damage per Orb to the first enemy hit.
W - Shining Light:
Cost: 60/70/80/90/100 Mana
Active: After 1.25s summon a shining light at the targeted location for 3s, granting vision and dealing 1/1.5/2/2.5/3(+0.5% AP)% of the targets Max Health as Magic Damage every 0.5s. Any of Kora's Orbs of Balance will instead be transfered to the light's location and orbit around it's edges. Kora regains 20/40/60/80/100(+9% bonus HP) Health while inside the light's area and is granted a 50/75/100/125/150(+35% AP, +9% bonus HP) shield. Orbs shot from within the Shining Light will always orbit to the front of the Shining Light to shoot from it and therefore will never touch the Shining Light's center.
E - Foo Wave:
Cost: 60/70/80/90/100 Mana
Active: Kora claps his hands creating a massive soundwave that deals 100/120/140/160/180(+60% AP) magic damage and slows the enemy by 20/30/40/50/60% for 2s. If the enemy hit has 6 stacks of Inbalance, you regain 1/1/2/2/3 Orbs of Balance and this abillity stuns instead, after the 6th stack the stun duration increases by 0.1s.
R - Art of Balance:
Cost: 100 Mana + Atleast 1 Orb of Balance
Range: 0-4000 (150% of the Projectile Speed)
Width: 200(+20 per Orb of Balance consumed after the 1st)
Pull Strenght*: 200(+30 per Orb of Balance consumed after the 1st)
ProjectileSpeed: 0-2000(Based on cast distance**)
Projectile Duration: 2s
Passive: Gain 1/2/3% bonus Armor and Magic Resist per Orb Active. Increase Orb cap by +1/2/3 when this abillity is not on cooldown.
Active: Instant casting(Under 0.35s) will use this abillity consuming only 1 Orb of Balance, after 0.35s, every 0.2s consume another orb of Balance to empower this abillity. Launch Mega Orb that deals 80/120/160(+40% AP) Magic Damage + 40/50/60(+20% AP) magic Damage per orb consumed after the first one. The Mega Orb pulls enemies to it's center and applies a stack of inbalance every 0.75s to enemies it pulls.
*Pull Strenght: Basically pushes enemies towards it's center. An enemy with 200 speed moving away from the center with a Pull Force of 200 will be immobilized. An enemy with 100 speed moving away from the center with a Pull force of 200 will be pulled at a speed of 100. An enemy with 300 speed moving away from the center with a Pull Force of 200 will move away at a speed of 100. Basically it uses vectors to calculate the direction the pulled target will go.
**Ult's Projectile Speed:
CastRange: 0-250: 0 Projectile Speed
CastRange: 251-500: 250 Projectile Speed
CastRange: 501-750: 500 Projectile Speed
CastRange: 751-1000: 1000 Projectile Speed
CastRange: 1001 and above: 2000 Projectile Speed
***Orbs of Balance(Passive): Orbs of Balance orbit around Kora at around 1 loop/1.5s. This means with 6 orbs, each second 4 Orbs will deal damage to the enemy(With 9 orbs, 6 orbs will deal damage instead.)
Full AP: Burst Mage
Tank: Top LaneSupport
Mage: You want to poke with Q until the enemy reaches 6 stacks and then use E to stun them and Q them for a quick burst. You can use E to gain vision, help other lanes or even stack your passive in an enemy that's behind minions but you will lose your Orb's protection. You can cast it on yourself to heal yourself and even deal damage and stack passive on divers. Your Q's passive is a way to stack your passive very fast allowing you to use E to stun your enemies and get out. W + Q can also deal a fair amount of burst onto other lanes but you will become vulnerable for W's duration and you can't place W on top of the enemy otherwise the orbs won't hit, and unless the enemy is stunned it's unlikely you'll hit all of your orbs(Especially considering W's 1.25s of delay.)
Your Ult has 2 purposes, CC &Burst or Poke&Burst. Casting at max range will make it's pull almost innefective as the projectile will move much faster than it can pull and it won't apply many stacks, but it still deals a burst of damage at a high range. Casting it on top of yourself will pretty much pull sucessfully anything with less than 470 movement speed(If you consumed 9 orbs), deal high damage and apply a lot of your stacks. The main disvantage of this ult is the time it takes to channel and consume all orbs. It's usually better to use it after stunning with E or stealthily from some bushes.
Tank: Can use Mages combos, but due to lack of damage you will usually want to avoid using Q and will just try to be on top of the enemy using Q's passive to stack your passive and reduce their Magic Resist and Damage, use W almost exclusively on yourself to heal/shield yourself as it won't deal much damage without AP, E will be much easier to stun if you are able to get on top of the enemy. Your Ult will also deal much less damage so you will always want to use it on top of yourself after an E stun to extend your CC duration. After level 6 your R will give you bonus resists as long as you don't use Q.
It's a very easy to exploit champ. Your burst comes from Q. Using a full Q makes you wait a long time to get a great burst gain. Using W at the wrong time far from you removes any damage from the Q's passive and active in your lane and pretty much garantees your E will be useless as well if the enemy didn't have the 6 Inbalance stacks already. E can AoE stun but if the enemies hide behind minions you will be forced to use W(Or autos) to stack your passive, during which they can exploit your lack of Orbs around you. Your Ult also requires a fairly long channel time to be effective. Missusing ult will diminish your Q's burst.
AP Kora: Struggles vs ranged enemies if they just stay behind minions because he can't stack it's passive and stun them without having to use W. Against Divers his already game is fairly simple while they don't have damage whenever they dive you use your Q's passive to stack your passive very fast and W if necessary to survive, and then just E them and use Q again for some burst or just run away, in the late game however strong assassins will just kill you before you can stack your passive on them with Q's passive Orbs(This doesn't apply to Tank Kora).
Tank Kora: Immobilize. Unlike AP Kora your ranged damage is very low, and your main source of damage comes from your Q's passive Orbs + Your Passive while your on top of the enemies, but Kora is immobile so enemies with dashes can just dash away from your orbs. Rylai's can still help but only vs enemies without dashes. Tank Kora's main purpose is to be on top of the enemy which thanks to it's passive means if he survives enough it garantees the win, in team fights however it's conditional CC means he has a much harder job getting on top of the enemies and reducing their Damage/MR.
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2023.06.03 17:08 Proletlariet Sir Daniel Fortesque - MedEvil
"You have done well to get this far, but the Count has walked this Earth for a thousand years defeating hundreds stronger than you, and for a thousand more I-" "Get on with it!"
When the evil sorcerer Zarok was attacking the very kingdom he was banished from, the king chose his champion Sir Daniel Fortesque to lead his forces into battle. He was promptly killed by an arrow to the eye immediately as the fight began.
Yet, despite such an underwhelming death, the fogs of war and time changed perception of his role into one of a hero that slayed Zarok personally. A century later, when Zarok returned and cast a spell which raised the dead to conquer the kingdom, it also affected the late Sir Fortesque in his tomb. While constantly mocked by the wall gargoyles and spirits in the Hall of Heroes, all of whom know the truth of his fake status, he used the opportunity to live up to his own legacy and save Gallowmere from the threat facing it. While successful in this matter and earning his place among the heroes, centuries later a similar spell in Victorian London would once again call him to arms, preventing a plan for world domination.
Legend 1 - MediEvil (PS4)
2 - MediEvil 2 (PS1)
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2023.06.03 16:48 Proletlariet Thirteenth Doctor
"Bit of adrenaline, dash of outrage, and a hint of panic knitted my brain back together. I know exactly who I am. I'm the Doctor. Sorting out fair play across the universe. Now please. Get off this planet while you still have a choice."
So you've come to see my respect thread? mmmm I love respect threads. In fact, I invented them right after 4 slice toasters. So... where was I? Oh, that's right. Me. Doctor, the Doctor
. I was born on this little planet on the Constellation of Kasterborous... or was I? Things get a bit complicated there... where I came from or who I am. I've been lots of people, some of them I don't even remember. The person reading this might be the Doctor too (?)... Anyway, back on point. The person who I am now
is an easy-going travelehigh-speed engineebiscuit-lover. Me and my fam explore the universe in muh good old TARDIS, righting wrongs and chilling like there's no tomorrow (which is a possibility wink-wink
). I'm happy to be your bezzie mate if you play nicely, but if not --- well, you'll get an idea if you keep reading. (scronch)
Source Key Hover over a feat to view its source.
- Doctor Who (2005) series # episode # = S#E#
- Twice Upon A Time = TUAT
- Resolution = R
- Revolution of the Daleks = RotD
- Eve of the Daleks = EotD
- Legend of the Sea Devils = LotSD
- The Power of the Doctor = PotD
Intelligence Technological Aptitude
Persuasion, Trickery & Manipulation
Planning & Strategy
Mental Abilities Mental Resistance & Willpower
Mind Reading & Communication
Sensing & Feeling
Physical Attributes Strength
Speed & Agility
Time Lords can survive fatal injuries through the process of regeneration whereupon every cell in their body is rewritten, radically transforming their appearance and personality. This regeneration produced some interesting changes...
Miscellaneous Time Lord Biology
Get the full rundown of the TARDIS and Sonic Screwdriver in the comments Psychic Paper
The psychic paper is a blank piece of paper that telepathically projects the Doctor's thoughts into the eyes of whom she presents it to.
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2023.06.03 15:33 miketunes [USA] [H] Oculus Meta Quest Games [W] Horizon Call of the Mountain [PS5]
Here is a list of games I have to trade with, but feel free to request anything specific your looking for. I'm looking to trade up to $90 worth of games for Horizon.
Blade & Sorcery: Nomad
The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners
Vader Immortal: Episode I
The Room VR: A Dark Matter
Five Nights at Freddy's: Help Wanted
Resident Evil 4
The Thrill of the Fight
Walkabout Mini Golf
Eleven Table Tennis
A Township Tale
Zenith: The Last City
Real VR Fishing
Gun Club VR
Vader Immortal: Episode II
Star Wars: Tales from the Galaxy's Edge
I Expect You To Die
Creed: Rise to Glory - Championship Edition™
Drunkn Bar Fight
Robo Recall: Unplugged
In Death: Unchained
Among Us VR
Into the Radius
The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners - Chapter 2: Retribution
Drop Dead: Dual Strike Edition
Space Pirate Trainer DX
Death Horizon: Reloaded
Medal of Honor™: Above and Beyond
Richie's Plank Experience
Warplanes: WW1 Fighters
NFL PRO ERA
Zero Caliber: Reloaded
Espire 1: VR Operative
After the Fall®
Green Hell VR
I Expect You To Die 2
SKYBOX VR Video Player
The Climb 2
LES MILLS BODYCOMBAT
Trover Saves the Universe
2MD: VR Football Unleashed ALL☆STAR
Waltz of the Wizard
A Fisherman's Tale
Until You Fall
Star Trek: Bridge Crew
Hand Physics Lab
Jurassic World Aftermath Collection
Sairento VR : Untethered
Nock: Bow + Arrow Soccer
Journey of the Gods
Sniper Elite VR
Tetris® Effect: Connected
SWORDS of GARGANTUA
Down the Rabbit Hole
Acron: Attack of the Squirrels!
Virtual Virtual Reality
Phantom: Covert Ops
Thief Simulator VR: Greenview Street
National Geographic Explore VR
Mondly: Practice Languages in VR
Please, Don't Touch Anything
Angry Birds VR: Isle of Pigs
Warhammer 40,000: Battle Sister
Racket Fury: Table Tennis VR
Path of the Warrior
Red Matter 2
Warplanes: Battles over Pacific
Pixel Ripped 1995
ALTDEUS: Beyond Chronos
Marvel's Iron Man VR
Zombieland: Headshot Fever
Goliath: Playing with Reality
AFFECTED: The Manor - Complete Edition
SOLARIS OFFWORLD COMBAT
Unplugged: Air Guitar
Nature Treks VR
Tribe XR DJ in Mixed Reality
Star Wars™ Pinball VR
Cooking Simulator VR
Dash Dash World
Pinball FX2 VR
The Exorcist: Legion VR
Mini Motor Racing X
First Person Tennis - The Real Tennis Simulator
Dead and Buried II
The Last Clockwinder
Guided Tai Chi
Vermillion - VR Painting
Garden of the Sea
Moss: Book II
Skyworld: Kingdom Brawl
Song in the Smoke
Prison Boss VR
The Light Brigade
Shave & Stuff
Doctor Who The Edge of Time
Floor Plan 2
Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes
Clash of Chefs VR
Wraith: The Oblivion - Afterlife
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2023.06.03 14:49 chuckhustmyre [TH] Mirror Image
By Chuck Hustmyre
William Bailey's forehead shattered the mirror like a sledgehammer. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was the feeling that he was falling through the mirror. Sub-cranial hematoma, a concussion, maybe even a cracked skull--that had to be the reason for the strange feeling. The mirror was mounted on the wall just to the right of the bar, four feet tall by about three feet wide. As consciousness slipped away, common sense and his strong belief in the rational world told him that he couldn't fall through the mirror. He must have bounced his head off the wall and be falling toward the floor.
It seemed like just a second or two before William's eyes popped open. He lay on his back, on the hard wood floor of Fausto's, with Johnny Davis towering over him. Big Johnny probably wanted to finish him off, maybe kill him, and finally end their twenty-year-old feud. Either Big Johnny Davis and the ceiling lights above him were spinning, or William's head was spinning, but either way something wasn't right.
He raised his head and looked to his left, toward the bar. Except the bar wasn't there. Instead, he was staring at the bathrooms. That didn't make sense. It must be his brain that had gotten spun around. William turned his head and peered over his size-ten wingtips at the busted mirror. The wooden frame and most of the glass still clung to the wall, the rest sat broken on the ground. The bar had to be on his left. He looked again, and still saw the bathrooms. A brain bruise, maybe some fluid pressure building up might be the cause of it.
"Get up!" Big Johnny Davis said.
William looked up at him. Johnny stood behind him, just beyond his shoulders. Perfect place for him to stomp my head into the plank floor. Except Johnny Davis was holding out his hand.
"Come on, we've got to get out of here."
Davis looked scared. It was the first time William Bailey could ever remember Johnny Davis looking scared. William had always been scared of Big Johnny, but Big Johnny wasn't scared of anything or anyone.
Police sirens wailed in the distance.
Johnny glanced over his shoulder. William craned his neck to look where Johnny was looking, saw he was staring at the front door like a man terrified something bad was going to come through it. Big Johnny looked down at him again and pumped his hand. "Come on, get up. They'll be here any second."
"Who?" William asked. "Who'll be--" But before he finished, Big Johnny Davis reached down, grabbed him by both arms, and jerked him to his feet.
As he was dragged toward the door by the only man in town who truly hated him, William glanced up and saw the rusted metal sign nailed above the door. He had to have a concussion, probably severe; that had to be it, because the letters on the sign were backward. It said TUO.
As Johnny Davis pulled him out the door, William heard tires skid on the pavement.
"Where's your car?" Johnny asked.
William twisted away from the big man's grip, then turned to his left. "In the alley." He started to run, still not sure exactly what he was running from.
Behind him, Big John shouted, "The alley's over here."
William kept running but turned his head back toward Johnny. "I know where the alley--"
Something hit him across the midsection and toppled him to the ground. He got his hands up just in time to break his fall and managed to keep his head from slamming into the sidewalk. When he looked up he saw a shopping cart tumbled onto its side.
Once again, William found himself lying flat on his back, this time amid the spilled contents of the cart. It had been filled with junk: paper bags full of dirty clothes, canned food, bags of potato chips, a diamond shaped, orange road sign, and other trash that looked like it had been collected from back alley garbage bins.
The homeless man who'd been pushing the cart was scrawny, and wafer thin. His skin was the color of old shoe leather, and he wore a long gray beard, tangled and matted with food and bits of filth. He was sprawled on the ground next to his cart, half sitting up, staring at William with his bright blue eyes.
Car doors slammed, men shouted.
"You better get going," the homeless man said, as he cocked his head. "The police after you?"
Before William could assure the old man that the police weren't after him--he was a respected businessman and family man--someone behind him grabbed him under both arms and pulled him to his feet. William turned and found himself staring into the face of Johnny Davis. "The alley's that way," Johnny said, pointing to the other side of Fausto's. With one hand gripping William's jacket, Johnny dashed across the front of the bar toward the alley. The alley--right there, plain as day--on the other side of Fausto's, right where it shouldn't be, where it couldn't be. William had been here a thousand times. As you stepped out of the bar, the alley was on the left, Brockton's Ace Hardware on the right. Now everything was mixed up and in the wrong place.
Johnny Davis turned down the alley, dragging William behind him. After just a few steps, a spotlight flashed in front of them.
"Stop!" a voice commanded. "Get on the ground."
William couldn't see because Johnny was in his way. "Who's that yelling?" he asked.
Big Johnny stopped and William plowed into his back.
"Get on the ground," the voice boomed again.
William poked his head out from behind Johnny Davis's back. The blinding white light was in his face. He couldn't see a thing.
POP! POP! POP!
Big Johnny sagged, then crashed to his knees. Instinctively, William bent forward and grabbed hold of Johnny. "What's the matter?"
Johnny's big hand reached out and shoved William back toward the street. "Back door," he wheezed, then plunged forward onto his face.
William stood alone. Behind the white spotlight he saw blue police lights flashing. He was totally exposed.
He saw flashes--little yellow spurts of flame--as something tugged at his jacket.
William had said "back door." What back door? Fausto's had a back door, but it didn't lead anywhere except to the open space behind the building used for trash and deliveries. Twenty feet of asphalt between the bar and the back of the building on the next block. William had parked his car at the end of the alley, but the police cars--or whatever they were--had the alley blocked off. The building behind Fausto's also had an alley that ran alongside it, but the owner had closed it off to keep the bums out. He'd put up a gate, padlocked it, and topped it with razor wire. It was a dead end.
Two more pops. Dead end or not it was better than standing here and getting shot. William turned and ran. He burst through the front door of Fausto's, dashed through the bar, past the shattered mirror, hit the back door at a dead run, and was outside behind the bar within seconds.
He could see the tail end of his car sticking out from the corner of the building, but with the cops blocking the alley, his car was useless to him. William glanced across the open space to the alley that ran next to the other building. The gate, the padlock, the razor wire--all still in place. To his right an overflowing garbage dumpster sat beside the back of Fausto's, jammed against the fire ladder.
The fire ladder.
An iron ladder bolted to the cinderblock wall.
William looked up. The top of the ladder was lost in shadow, but he knew it went up two stories to the roof. Last summer, when the toilet had stopped up, he'd come out back to take a leak and had stood behind the dumpster, peeing against the wall like a kid, one hand draped over the bottom rung of the ladder.
He slipped behind the dumpster. The smell made him gag. The bottom of the ladder was four feet from the ground. William reached up as high as he could, grabbed hold of the third rung, then hauled himself up.
Through the partially open back door came the sounds of heavy feet pounding on the hard wood floor of the bar.
Halfway up the ladder, he was exhausted--and scared. Shaking, he white-knuckled the ladder. Being more than ten feet off the ground terrified him. He needed a break, just a second or two to catch his breath. There was enough moonlight so he could see into one of the second story windows. Inside, junk was piled everywhere. Old barstools, a busted jukebox, furniture stacked almost to the ceiling. Years ago, old man Fausto lived on the second floor, but Jake, who'd bought the place from the old man and had decided to keep the name, used it for storage.
Below him, William heard the back door thrown open so hard it banged against the wall. He scrambled up until he reached the top of the ladder, then hoisted himself over the edge of the roof. Down on the ground a voice shouted, "There he is, up there."
Another gunshot. What the hell was going on?
The unmistakable sound of feet--fast feet, in shape feet, boot shod feet--scurrying up the ladder. Standing on the tar and pebble roof, William glanced around for something he could use as a weapon, shocked he was even thinking of such a thing. A five gallon plastic bucket was all there was. It stood upright, filled with rainwater. He picked it up and peered over the edge. A uniformed policeman was three quarters of the way up the ladder. Two more cops were right behind him.
William looked at the heavy bucket in his hands, thought about just dumping the water onto them but knew it wouldn't stop them. There was only one way to stop them, and that was to knock them off the ladder. He thought about warning them, maybe trying to scare them away. But they were cops. You couldn't scare them away.
So why had they shot Johnny Davis, and why were they shooting at him?
The first officer looked up and saw William staring down at him with the bucket in his hands. Their eyes locked for just a second and the cop stopped. In those eyes that stared back at him, William saw an almost maniacal determination that sent a shiver down his spine. The officer held his grip on the ladder with his right hand while his left dropped to the pistol resting in his gleaming leather holster. In one smooth motion he drew his gun and raised it toward William.
William Bailey tossed the bucket down the ladder. A shot rang out an instant before the heavy bucket thudded into the cop's head. Like a gruesome traffic accident happening before his eyes, William couldn't help but watch as the policeman fell, taking his two partners down with him. The last thing William saw before he turned away was a jumbled heap of black uniforms resting on the concrete below the ladder.
* * *
Hiding in the shadow of a telephone booth, thinking. Home. He had to get home. Had to get back to Marge and the kids. Maybe somehow he could explain what had happened. Vincent, his attorney, he would know what to do--maybe--but he was a civil lawyer not a criminal attorney. He wrote contracts and did personal injury on the side; he didn't get people out of jail who'd killed a cop by dropping a bucket of water on his head and knocking him and his buddies off the side of a building.
As the cab he'd been waiting for pulled up, William stepped out from the dark and climbed into the back seat.
The driver turned around. "Where to?"
William pulled the door shut. "Uptown. 1721 Audubon Court."
"Fare's gonna be about fifteen dollars. After dark, I gotta have the money up front."
"Company policy." The cabbie shrugged. "A lot of drivers been getting stiffed."
William opened his wallet, pulled out a twenty and handed it across the seat. The driver took it and almost slipped it into his cash box, then took a second look at the bill. His face tightened. "What the hell is this?"
With the bill stretched between his hands, the cabbie stared at it for a second then looked up at William. "You're either the dumbest counterfeiter who ever lived or you've been had."
"What you are talking about?"
The driver faced the bill toward William but didn't hand it back to him. "It's printed backwards."
William looked at the twenty-dollar bill in the man's hand. It looked like--it was--an almost brand new bill, nothing wrong with it as far as he could tell.
"Get out of my cab," the driver said.
William didn't know what the man was talking about but knew he didn't want to get out. This cab was his only way home. He reached for the twenty. "If you don't like that one I've got another--"
The driver pulled his hands away. "I ain't giving this back. I got to turn it in to the police." He dropped one hand behind his seat back, then came up clutching a pistol, an old German Luger by the looks of it, the muzzle aimed straight at William's face. "In fact, I bet they give me a reward if I bring you in with it."
William jerked the door handle and rolled out into the street. He sprang to his feet and ran, the driver's yells just background noise. Has everyone gone crazy or is it just me?
Home. He had to get home.
* * *
Rain. Driving, relentless rain. William was just two blocks from Fausto's. In two hours, that's as far as he'd gotten--one block an hour. Police cars prowled the neighborhood, shinning spotlights into every nook and cranny, lighting up every shadow. Everyone in Fausto's knew his name. He'd been going there three or four nights a week after work for years. The cabbie had his address. William had given it to him when he told the hack driver where to drop him.
Ten o'clock at night, with nowhere to go and no way to get there, William sat behind the closed Goodwill store, under an overhang that barely kept the rain off of him.
Huddled in the dark, head sunk between his knees, he hadn't heard anyone approach.
"You don't look so good."
Startled, William looked up, prepared to run again. It was the homeless man he'd knocked over outside the bar. The one with the shopping cart and the leathery skin. William relaxed a little. "Excuse me?"
The man pushed his cart closer. "You're not supposed to be here."
William looked around. "Why not?"
The old man grinned, half his teeth gone.
William found it nearly impossible to tell his age. The guy could be forty and maybe had lived a hard life, or perhaps he was a well-preserved seventy, pickled by a lifetime of booze. William waved him off, expecting a plea for money. "I can't help you."
The old man stopped just a few feet away. "Everything's out of place isn't it?" He had a strange lilting voice. Almost like an accent.
And he was right. Everything was out of place--from Johnny Davis to the cab driver--everything was wrong.
Strapped to the back of the old man's shopping cart was a plastic sign about the size of a loaf of bread. William recognized the sign, the words, the colors, the logo of a local supermarket chain, all were familiar to him, but the letters were backward, unreadable.
Rainwater ran down William's face. He pointed to the sign. "Why's it written like that?"
The old man looked at the sign then back at William. "Like what?" he said, then shuffled away behind his basket.
* * *
The rain came down even harder. William slouched in a darkened doorway across the street from Fausto's. Nothing made sense. Everything was messed up, backward, out of whack. Almost like this wasn't his home, like he was a stranger seeing it for the first time.
But that was crazy. He'd grown up here, gone to Brother Martin High School, dated Jenny Underhill who went to Cabrini, lost her to Johnny Davis, then got her back only to lose her again the first year of college to some kid who drove a Mustang. Two years later William married Marge at Saint Luke's. They had two kids.
This town was his home. He recognized it. He knew the people here, Big Johnny and Zeke, the bartender at Fausto's. But things were different, little things. John Davis for one. In trying to help him, the big man had gotten himself killed. That wasn't John Davis--at least not the one William Bailey had known since seventh grade. Everything looked the same but wasn't. Nothing was quite right.
But they knew him--or someone like him.
A strange sensation crept over him that made the hair on the back of his neck rise. Maybe he didn't belong here. Maybe everything wasn't as it appeared. Maybe this wasn't his home. But if that were true, then whose home was it? Another thought, even scarier seeped through his brain. If he was here, who was there--at his home?
William dropped his head into his hands. Just considering such nonsense was a waste of time. Yet, here he was scanning the street, thinking of going back inside Fausto's, back to that mirror.
Not much time to think about it. The bar closed at three AM and it was already two-thirty. When he'd left--run for his life with Big Johnny--most of the mirror was still in the frame hanging on the wall.
Something about that damned mirror.
But Fausto's was dangerous, so a couple of hours ago William had found another mirror. In the men's room of a twenty-four hour gas station. The Chevron on North Rampart.
He had approached it cautiously, afraid he was going mad. As he peered over the sink into the mirror, he saw what he always saw, his own reflection. Holding up his left hand, he looked at the image in the mirror, at the watch strapped to his wrist. He noticed that the man in the mirror wore his watch on his right hand. Just the opposite.
William stood in the gas station bathroom for twenty minutes before he worked up his nerve. Finally, he took a deep breath, leaned back, then slammed his forehead into the dirt-streaked mirror. The glass shattered and cut his head. Blood dribbled off the tip of his nose into the sink. His reflection stared out at him from the other side of the mirror, blood running down his face, too.
I have gone crazy!
So the gas station hadn't worked out. Ducking police cruisers, William had wandered the streets, his head reeling. What was he doing?
On the sidewalk, he found a sopping wet magazine that the wind had blown up against the side of a newspaper machine. The cover caught his eye. He picked it up. It was printed backwards, the letters reversed, words running right to left. The spine was on the right. As he flipped through the pages, he couldn't read a thing. Then William had an idea.
In the bathroom of an all night restaurant he held the wet magazine up to the mirror. Perfect. The reflected image was normal, spine on the left, words running left to right, all the letters printed correctly. He could read it clearly. But what did it mean?
Then he drove his head into that mirror. The glass cracked. Someone walked in, a skinny waiter wearing an apron. He stood gawking as William leaned over the sink with tears of pain filling his eyes.
The waiter looked at the broken mirror, then jabbed a finger at William's bloody forehead. "What the hell are you doing?"
"An accident," he mumbled, pressing his fingers against the fresh cut.
The waiter turned. "I'm calling the cops."
William Bailey ran.
Now he was huddled in the rain staring at Fausto's across the street. Because he had nowhere else to go.
He stood and walked toward Fausto's. When he was halfway across the street, a police car glided around the corner, headlights reflecting off the wet pavement. The cops in no hurry, just cruising. William forced himself to keep walking, not to run. One foot in front of the other. In the downpour, odds were that the cops wouldn't even recognize him.
But they did recognize him.
The police car slid to a stop as its high beams clicked on and its blue strobe lights started popping. Both front doors flew open.
Like a sinner seeking the sanctuary of a church, William ran straight for Fausto's door. As he burst inside, Zeke looked up from behind the bar. "William! What the hell are you doing here?"
He ignored the bartender, running right past him, eyes focused on the broken mirror and its busted frame hanging on the wall.
Zeke again, "The cops been looking all over for you. Say you killed two officers and--"
Behind him the front door banged against the wall. "Police!" a voice behind him commanded. "Stop."
But William didn't stop. He kept running--running straight for the mirror. Reflected in its fragmented pieces he saw two uniformed police officers behind him, heard their boots pounding on the wooden floor. Just ten feet separated him from the mirror. At full speed he took two strides then dove. He stretched his arms out overhead and tucked his chin into his chest as his feet left the floor.
He felt one hand hit wall and the other strike broken glass. Then his head hit. More glass cracked, more skin split.
* * *
William's eyes popped open. He was staring at the ceiling. Rough voices, even rougher hands. They rolled him over onto his stomach and jerked his arms behind his back. He felt cold steel on his wrists and heard the metallic ratcheting as the handcuffs tightened and bit into his skin.
He tilted his head up and rested his chin against the floor. Blood poured down the side of his face; he watched it pool on the floor then seep between the wooden planks. By rolling his eyes up he could just see the empty spot on the wall where the mirror had hung. Lying on the floor, three feet from his head, was the broken frame and the rest of the glass.
The two cops grabbed his arms and yanked him to his feet, sending waves of pain through his shoulders and wrists. As they spun him toward the door, one of the officers said, "You're under arrest."
"Why?" William asked.
The officer pressed his face into William's. "Murdering your family for starters."
"My...my family." William felt his stomach cinch and his bowels turn to ice. A thought he'd had earlier in the night echoed inside his head. If he was here, who was there--at his home.
As the cops dragged him across the floor, William glanced up and saw the rusted metal sign nailed above the door.
He was home.
submitted by chuckhustmyre
to shortstories [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 11:59 Shw4ndz Went full subnautica
So I decided to keep going down. Get under the castle and go down, down a bit more, down further, down past the murals and the creepy zombie things and piggies and lynols and all that and down down and a bit more down.
Cleaaarly underpowered for where I am but with enough elixirs and buffs and a dash of cheese a young link can do anything.
Now I come to an arena and its a war of the depths. Kill all the enemies to lower the health bar situation.
Then it occurs to me... Have I just ran to rhe end of the game?
Needless to say...I died to the army of piggies.
submitted by Shw4ndz
to tearsofthekingdom [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 11:54 leilani-and-sterling Using extensions to improve Gnome workflow
2023.06.03 11:12 vpyr [Rise of the elven sage] - Chapter 29
Chapter 1 Previous Chapter
The Elf and the Orc exchanged bewildered glances, their faces reflecting a mixture of surprise and realization. In that moment, Raphael recognized the profound wisdom that often emanates from the unassuming minds of children—the ability to utter truths so apparent, yet easily overlooked by the jaded eyes of adults. After all, magic is magic, unfettered by the constraints of reason or convention. There existed no logical impediment preventing him from conjuring something powerful and propelling it with force against the confining bars of the cage, shattering its constraints in an explosion of liberation.
“I have not tried that, yet. I might need to test this out before.”, Raphael said ashamed as he stretched out his hand, thinking about how the flying ice shards looked in games and books.
He shut his eyes, delving into the depths of his imagination, summoning forth a vision of a formidable weapon. In his mind's eye, a colossal shard materialized, surpassing the length and girth of his own arm. Its edges were razor-sharp, gleaming with a vibrant azure hue, radiating an ethereal glow that danced and twirled in the recesses of his consciousness. Suspended above his upturned palm, it awaited its destined flight, yearning to unleash its lethal strike upon his adversaries. As the scene unfolded within his mind, the tangible world around him began to reveal signs of his conjuration. The air itself seemed to transform, its transparency fading into a misty whiteness that thickened with each passing moment. Flecks of snow materialized from the ether, clustering together in delicate unity, gradually forming a minute crystalline structure that gently rotated in the palm of his hand. Yet, when Raphael finally opened his eyes to a gasp of Sanya. A wave of disappointment crashed upon him, dousing his initial excitement. The reality fell far short of his grandiose vision, leaving him with the unsettling realization that this meager manifestation was nowhere near sufficient to accomplish his goals. I will lend you some more power for the real one. Trust,
the childlike voice in his mind chirped.
Eager to unravel the mysteries of the enigmatic voice resonating within him, Raphael yearned for deeper understanding. However, with the urgency of their perilous situation pressing upon him, his curiosity would have to be set aside for another time. Placing his trust in the ethereal guidance once more, he commanded the mental manifestation of the shard to take flight, soaring towards the ceiling. With a resolute purpose, the shard obeyed his mental directive, propelled forward like a bullet unleashed from the barrel of a gun. Its trajectory aimed for the lofty heights of the ceiling, hurtling through the air with an unstoppable force. Impacting the solid structure above, the shard collided with a resounding crash, fracturing into a myriad of fragmented pieces. A mesmerizing spectacle ensued as a cascade of minuscule snowflakes and glimmering shards of ice descended upon them, their descent an enchanting dance of frozen beauty. All three companions stood entranced, their eyes fixed upon the breathtaking scene unfolding before them. In the wake of the shard's impact, a subtle dent marked its collision point. Surrounding this focal spot, the stone bore witness to the touch of wintry enchantment, encased in a delicate embrace of white and blue hues, an enduring testament to the shard's icy power.
“What do you say? Think I can do it?”, Raphael said with a smug grin on his face, trying to hide how awestruck he was himself. “Your eyes…”, Sanya said under her held breath.
Georg's head shook with a mixture of annoyance and exasperation, a visible reflection of his sentiments towards Raphael's self-assured demeanor amidst their precarious situation. Despite the underlying insecurity gnawing at Raphael's core, he couldn't help but emit an air of smugness. On the other hand, Sanya's response was akin to that of a typical child, her eyes sparkling with delight and pure joy, completely enthralled by the captivating spectacle before them.
“Okay, as soon as I shot the shard, we will run in the opposite direction of the cage and climb over the fence. Everybody ready?”, Raphael asked.
A somber air enveloped the trio as their expressions turned grave, fully aware of the life-or-death stakes that hung in the balance of their daring escape. Raphael cautiously pried open the bulkhead door once more, gingerly extending his hand into the unknown, praying that their presence would go unnoticed. Conceiving another grandiose creation within his mind's eye, a magnificent lance of ice materialized, wreathed in a misty aura upon his outstretched hand. This intricately adorned weapon, adorned with shades of ethereal blue, emanated a frosty glow as it spun gently in his grasp, three delicate ribbons of ice fluttering in the air. That should be enough
, the voice in his head said.
With a mere thought, Raphael released the spear, propelling it towards the Griffin's cage, setting their plan into motion. The trio swiftly emerged from the underground, pivoting on their heels and dashing towards the enclosing fence. As the lance struck the edge of the enclosure, it shattered into a flurry of snowy mist, enveloping the cage in a frosty embrace. The alarm blared loudly, piercing the air, announcing the presence of intruders on the property. Security personnel and mercenaries scurried frantically, their frantic movements accompanied by the resounding thud as the lance collided with the cage's perimeter, fragmenting into a flurry of snow and ice, cloaking the enclosure in a frosty haze.
“Quick! Quick! Get the intruders! Get them! No Hostages!” “What happened?” “Damn it, was our free day!” “What’s that at the cage?”
In the midst of the unfolding chaos, the Griffin unleashed its fury, shattering its icy prison and adding to the tumultuous scene. With majestic wings outstretched, it ascended into the sky, a formidable force of nature. Descending with a swift dive, it fiercely attacked the defenders, its primal instincts guiding its every move. Amidst the commotion, the creature felt the sting of bullets, letting out a piercing cry of pain. In an act of retaliation, it seized a hapless man with its razor-sharp claws, lifting him high into the air and hurling him towards his fellow mercenaries. The resulting collision further fueled the pandemonium, amplifying the chaotic frenzy that engulfed them all.
“Fuck, the cage!” “Ah help! “Man down! MEDIC!” “I See them! FIRE!” “DON’T KILL THE GRIFFIN!”
The trio swiftly made their escape, dashing towards the fence. George took the lead, propelling himself over the barrier and extending a helping hand to Sanya, who grasped it tightly, allowing him to pull her to safety. Together, they landed on the other side, the echoes of gunshots and the cacophony of chaos filling the air. Raphael, however, found himself momentarily frozen in place as he cast his gaze back at the turmoil he had unleashed. It was then that his eyes fell upon another cage, just a short distance away. Within it, his loyal companion, Vivian, trembled with fear, trapped and helpless.
“Come down! That’s our chance! Don’t fuck it up!”, George urged Raphael. “Vivian.” “Yes, we will find her when we are in the clear. Move!” “She’s there! I need to help her!”
With a firm grip on Raphael's foot, George yanked him over the fence, determined to get them both to safety despite the Elf's resistance. Waves of pain and guilt surged through Raphael's veins, intertwining with his struggle to free himself from George's hold.
“Ya can’t help her if ya dead! We will come back and get her, I promise!”, George said as he wrestled Raphael further and further away from the estate, leaving Vivian behind once again.
With a sudden and powerful gesture, George's hand connected with a resounding smack against Raphael's head, causing him to succumb to unconsciousness. The impact left an imprint of worry on their faces as George and Sanya united their efforts, gingerly maneuvering the lifeless form of the Elf away from the bedlam that engulfed them. Their eyes remained fixed upon the vast expanse of the city sprawled out before them, seeking shelter within its labyrinthine streets. The echoes of agonized human screams and the piercing screeches of the Griffin pursued them, a haunting reminder of the perils they left behind. Next Chapter
Thank you for reading!
submitted by vpyr
to redditserials [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 08:39 DeposeableIronThumb Question on making my 2019 countryman into an offroad option
Hey all, I use to drive a 4Runner offroad behemoth with add-ons because I had to work off road. I have been in an office job for 3 years but due to internal power vacuums, I am being pestered weekly to leave my current position and return to the fun part of my field (off-road). I wanted to know your experience with getting lifts and a bull bar on a mini. My previous work on making off road additions was easy because I had an off-road vehicle.
I know it's possible because certain parties have like $40k to add. Any countrymen doing lift kits and a bull bar in southern California? Where did you go?
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to MINI [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 07:49 Pruvided Every Mod/Add On/Extra for My Gen 5 Hybrid
Heyooo, I picked up my brand new 2022 SE Hybrid in September (drove off the lot with 4 miles [1.6km]), and I've done a decent bit to/for it since. This sub has been a huge resource for me regarding research/info, and I figured I'd make this post to hopefully do the same for someone else. This is going to be a relatively long post, so bear with me lol. I'll list everything in chronological order and try to provide as much context/info!
I wanted something with a little more oomph. Quick 20-30 minute plug-and-play install. Kind of a pain getting the plastic cover out of the way under the hood, and not much room to work with when loosening/tightening the bolts that hold it in place.
Got them for winter car camping so I can crack the windows while it's raining/snowing, but chrome delete is a plus too. Another quick 15-30 minute install. Haven't noticed any issues other than the usual scratches.
Got these purely for the looks/chrome delete. Wish the light was a little brighter, but I guess it's what I should expect from the blackout version. Quick 10-15 minute install.
Wanted something thick and reversible. Just went with this one cause seemed pretty good, and it's worked as well as thick sunshades do I guess, lol. Fits great, and no complaints. Use the black side for low-profile winter car camping and the silver side for summer. Fits under the passenger seat when not in use.
Got these just in case since I planned to do a lot of winter driving this year. Left the all-season tires that it came with (forgot brand/name), and only ever had traction issues a couple of times in my ~30 days of snowboarding this season, so never even used them. Stored them with the spare wheel, along with some flares.
I made a post for this about 7 months ago, and everything is explained there.
Spare Tire Cover Support // Pics
As a part of my custom sleep platform project, I also found that two wooden 2x3 pieces support the trunk floor perfectly if you lay them across the spare tire (see pics). Have slept in the back using my platform a dozen times or so, and have had it loaded up with quite a lot of stuff, and no problems so far. Some might advise against putting unnecessary weight on the spare wheel like that, but meh, until I have an issue I'm gonna keep doing it lol.
I'm an absolute perfectionist, so I don't even know how long these took. These were a huge pain in the ass to make, but I'm super
happy with how they came out. I made these for winter car camping (summer too) to have max privacy, stealth, and extra warmth. I pretty much just followed the tutorial in the video I linked and got all of the suggested materials. I only added black canvas to one side. Figured I'd have more versatility that way. One other tweak I made was that I left a gap in the front window inserts so I could still have some airflow for when I crack the windows. I know it defeats some of the purpose of them, but my winter gear is plenty warm for down to the high teens (probably lower tbh). The small windows between the rear and the hatch use velcro to stay in place. There is a piece attached to the inside of the window with 3M tape, and another connected to the insert using hot glue. Was about $150 for everything I needed to make them.
Went with aftermarket cause fuck the price of OEM. These are super
solid and I have no complaints/problems. Easy to take off when don't need them. Haven't used them too much, but nice to have for when I want to throw a roof box, awning, or mount up there.
Got these for a trip I had coming up at the time, so it worked out, but I really wanted a cargo box. Went with this since it's way cheaper than one. Can hold 4 wide boards no problem. Super nice for car camping too since I don't have to keep the board(s) inside with me and don't have to risk leaving it under the car either.
License Plate Frames // Pics
The dealer-provided frames are so ugly, so for a while, I was rocking no frames, but ended up getting one for the front
and one for the rear
off Etsy. I was going to get the same frame for both the front and rear but ended up going with a silly rear one to hopefully get a chuckle out of someone from time to time.
Probably one of my favorite mods. These lights make such a huge difference, and anyone else who has them will tell you they're fuckin dope. Not a very hard install, but feeding the cable through the rubber grommet at the top center of the hatch was a bit of a pain. YouTube got ya covered though if you DIY.
OEM Hitch & Wiring Harness // Pics
Went OEM because I want to keep as much clearance as possible. Installed it myself and it took me about 8 hours to do the hitch and
wiring harness. Took a bunch of breaks, had dinner, and was constantly scrubbing through youtube videos to figure out what the hell I was doing. Cutting the bumper was pretty easy actually. I used an electric jigsaw and cleaned everything up with a file. I didn't install the rubber trim piece cause I planned to do it after putting the bumper back on, but there is literally no chance with how stiff the trim piece is and how little room there is to work with, and I was not about to take my bumper off again. Still looks great regardless. Will update the Imgur link with a picture of how I routed the wiring harness tomorrow/later
. I didn't take pictures during the process but will do my best to show. Got it mainly for smaller stuff (bike rack, cargo rack, etc). Hybrid doesn't have a high tow capacity anyway.
Just chose these because they were recommended everywhere I looked. Took like 10 minutes and obviously a big difference in quality. Saw some stuff about bass blockers, but I think my issue is more with needing an amp if anything.
Was going to get the same speakers to match the dash, but went with some other Kicker ones that were recommended. Once I get more into car audio stuff in the future, I may switch things around some more. I do plan to get an amp and rear speakers in the future, but alas, I'm broke. Was pretty easy and simple to install, but drilling out the rivets was a pain since they were uncooperative. Crutchfield came with everything I needed (mounting bracket, wiring harness, and directions).
Since I had the doors off to replace the speakers, I figured I should add some sound deadening. Could've added more, but it was such a tedious process that I just called it at what I had. Took me about 5 hours to do the sound deadening and speakers, but took some breaks. Overall, came out pretty good, and I'll likely go back in to add some more. The front doors are noticeably heavier, they shut with a little
more authority, and knocking on the door sounds drastically
less hollow. Have yet to drive highway/freeway speed yet, but will have the chance tomorrow. Plan to do the spare wheel area with the material I have left since it's easy to get to and apply. Only used about half of what I bought (18sq ft). I also bought a roller
cause no way in hell I was just going to use my hands to press it all down.
At the time of posting, I'm still waiting for these to arrive. Estimated another few weeks at least, but will update this post after I install them. I don't mind the prop rod, but I wanted something for the sake of convenience, and I hope these will work well enough. I didn't really look into them at all, so if they're shit, oh well.
Interior Organization // Pics
Just some small stuff here and there to make some of the space more usable/organized. Was also considering getting the little organizer thing that sits on the dash behind the screen. I think that pretty much covers everything. There's still a lot I want to do/get, but in due time. As I said, I hope this post helps inspire some creativity and interest regarding mods for your own vehicle(s)! I'm sure there's some stuff I left out, so feel free to ask me about anything or give your thoughts/input. I'm also more than happy to talk about the lifestyle I have that I use my RAV4 for if you have some similar interests (snowboarding, biking, camping, etc). This sub and youtube have been such a big part of my new passion for throwing money at my car, and I'm going to keep doing it since I plan on keeping it for a really long time haha.
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to rav4club [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 07:32 KonoKinoko Tuning help! I got the engine swap for the focus RS. now it's a monster fast, but drive as a brick, going straight on every single turn. I cannot make this car turn properly... please consider I'm a newby of tuning. I tried to set up the suspension as per some guide online, but.. it's still a brick.