African restaurant near me

Question to Madrid foodies

2023.06.06 14:46 CageyStuff Question to Madrid foodies

I am very new to Madrid and I am yet to find several things I am used to. Could you please help me locate best options?
1) Authentic Ramen 2) Bakery selling dense rye bread (like a brick), like Danish, Swedish, German, or worst case Russian 3) best Neapolitan pizza 4) best cafe/restaurant in the nature setting to eat outdoor (like a cafe in the park or a forest). 5) reasonable place to buy organic food
Thanks in advance for the recommendations
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2023.06.06 14:45 cbplastering Find A Best Plastering Contractors Near Me - CB Plastering

CB Plastering offers premium plastering services for both residential and commercial buildings. Our team of experienced professionals are committed to delivering the highest quality workmanship at competitive prices.
Visit here:- https://cbplasteringbristol.co.uk/commercial-plastering-contractors-bristol/
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2023.06.06 14:44 Straight_Fish3699 First time vacation budget

This is my (24f) first ever vacation on my own, I'm going to visit a friend that moved away. I already have plane tickets and she is letting me stay at her house (near Virginia Beach).
No one can give me a good estimate on how much spending money I should set aside for food and souvenirs. I think I have most things in order to go on this trip I know I need to set aside some money for my dog to be boarded but as far as the actual trip- my friend is extremely frugal (as am I) but bc she hardly goes out and does anything herself she isn't giving me a good estimate for a food budget.
I don't need to eat out every night but I'd like to gift her and her spouse some money for hosting me too, maybe pay for their dinner one night, and whatever of theirs I might use.
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2023.06.06 14:44 celery66 Order issue! wait time of 60 min

Just had to cancel an order, as almost an hour later, they were no sign of a driver. I contacted skip, to find out why and got the usual excuses-restaurant business, driver delay!
I also called the restaurant and she told me the time they were given was 69 min time to prepare the order. I picked ASAP!
I, again spoke to skip and they said they will follow up with the restaurant, but it was the restaurant that decided that.
Who is fucking lying here and anyone else have that happen!!!?
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2023.06.06 14:43 Chele15 Pharmacy Tech requirements

I’m looking for a job and there’s a cvs near my house. I was looking at their job listings and I saw Pharmacy Tech and the requirements were: “Must be at least 16 years of age Licensure requirements vary by state. Learn more by visiting your state’s Board of Pharmacy website or asking the hiring manager”
Idk if I’m misunderstanding but, can literally anyone be a pharmacy tech?? Like you don’t need some kind of special school qualifications? If I apply they’ll just train me there for whatever they need me to do? Am I basically just an assistant? How much is starting pay generally?
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2023.06.06 14:43 speaktoastrolog Black Magic Specialist Near Me

Black magic specialist near me can help you in many ways. If you are looking for a solution to your problem then contact us and we will solve your problem for sure.
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2023.06.06 14:43 Royal_Academy Why Must You Select a Daycare Near Me?

As parents, one of the toughest decisions to make is regarding the education of your child. This has been closely monitored as education standards have been on the rise for the last few years. If you are one of those frustrated parents not quite sure where to head to for the best Toddler and Preschool, we urge you to get connected with the Royal Academy Montessori Preschool, based in Canada. For a number of reasons, the Royal Academy stands out as the best Daycare Near Me.
#RoyalDaycare
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2023.06.06 14:43 Disastrous-Engineer2 New to entire thing. Have some basic questions.

My wife and i are about go to local swinger club for the first time. The reason for this isn't meeting new couples (not in near future at least) but rather to engage in some play while being in "public". We thought that swinger club would be perfect choice for it because it gives us the feeling we are asking for, but on the other hand we wouldn't be doing anything illegal. We have nothing against meeting some couples and talking to them,learning their experiences and maybe some tips about lifestyle,but that's about it.
Do you think swinger club would be the right choice given our preferences?
To my second question, i have read the rules of mentioned swinger club online. They are all common sense but something made me thinking. They say something along the lines that sex is allowed everywhere inside the club except for the balcony. But how do we handle body fluids? Who cleans that up and how? When? And if we are the ones to take care about it (what i would expect) how is it done and where do we get the wipers or whatever?
Also,when i say that we are not interested in other people for sex,it isn't entirely true. My wife does have something she would like to try but it's so specific that i didn't need to read the FAQ here to know that it almost certainly won't happen. Without going into too much details,needing other woman for it has led us thinking that paying for it would be easiest way of doing it,because where we live it's perfectly legal.
What do you guys and girls think?
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2023.06.06 14:43 suxxcks Boss takes 50% of my tips

Hi everyone, i [F20] work in a truck stop in rural Ontario. My diner is attached to a gas bar, which is owned by two business partners and they rent the diner side out to my boss and her husband. Every plate goes into this couple’s pocket, they run everything and pay me out of their bank account. The wife, who cooks for the restaurant, takes 50% of every tip when she and I run the restaurant together. When we work with a dishwasher we split it three ways. I have 13 tables to myself, the owner and the lady that washes dishes get the same amount of tips I do. She claims it’s okay to do this because they rent the diner, not own it. I’ve tried to mention this to them and I get shut down every time. What do I do? I’m trying to find another job but I feel like they owe me a lot of money.
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2023.06.06 14:42 Johnny_Boy398 Africa Rework Proposal: Bêafrîka, Katanga, and the Mercenary Kingdoms of Africa

Africa Rework Proposal: Bêafrîka, Katanga, and the Mercenary Kingdoms of Africa
(This is part of a continuing series, links to which will be provided in the comments below)
Bêafrîka State: Bob Denard, Jean-Bédel Bokassa and the mercenary state.
The term “warlord” has been abused by many as a catch all term for any armed african group. It brings to mind images of a barbaric, violent oaf seeking to enrich themselves with trinkets and money off the back of their military extortion: an example of the primitive and bloodthirsty nature of the african. This is certainly the purpose of the term for the Germans, who seek to paint all native armed resistance in this light in order to justify their own return to the continent. But despite this abuse of the term, and its unjust application, it is not made up out of whole cloth: bandits, criminal gangs and short sighted thugs do exist among the africans as they do in all people, and the chaos of the German collapse has given these characters the opportunity of a lifetime. In the former RK Zentralafrika this is seen most clearly in the “mercenary state” of Bêafrîka.
Borders of a successful Bêafrîka. Many post-colonial African nations are accused of being artificial: random lines drawn on a map for the convenience of foreigners, and thus doomed to be either failures or exploitive facades. The truth of this statement is debatable: what makes a nation “organic”, is it truly critical that one be so? Are the struggles of new African nations so easily encapsulated? The argument goes on but all will agree on this: Bêafrîka is an utterly artificial and extractive state which can only begrudgingly be called a nation at all.
The north-west of Zentralafrika has always been something of a hodgepodge. The initial conquest of the area from the Free French meant the roll back of any “nation building” expenditures in favor of reverting back to the old company rule. Corvee slavery, plantations and almost non-existent infrastructure was the rule even under the French, and as such the transition to German ownership was almost seamless. If the average native african noticed a difference at all it was in the flags and helmets of the whites who terrorized them: their managers and guards stayed essentially the same. As such the region was seen by independence agitators as ripe for their own movements to grow in. Though such resistance was kept on a tight leash by the Germans it finally burst forth in the northern incursion of 1954. Supported by Nigeria and with the German forces drawn thin by the ongoing Wester Russian War, socialist militants made a lightning strike southward in the hopes of toppling Zentralafrika. For a moment it seemed as if they would do it: the road to Leopoldville was only lightly guarded and the rebel numbers were, in theory, vast. But it was not to be: poor command structures and infighting slowed the rebel advance for long enough that Kommissar Krogmann and Seigfreid Muller were able to reorganize and counterattack with the aid of a new breed of soldier: the Mercenary.
Though having been present in the role of corporate security for years this war was the instance when the Congo Mercenaries truly became a force to be reckoned with. Restrictions on who could hold a gun were dropped and the ranks of mercs swollen with Europeans, Asians and Africans. Though typically small groups and far more independent than Krogmann would have liked, they were all well acquainted with their trade and often brought along their own equipment. They could move fast, hit hard, and there was no reason to suspect their siding with the revolutionaries. With the aid of mercenaries and the cash of selling off vast tracts of land to private holders the revolutionaries were pushed back, and the long guerilla war began. Some areas of Zentralafrika were essentially passive, or had other security solutions. But in the north it was the mercenaries and the garrison which enforced the German order. Names of these men would soon become minor celebrities to the military minded, and their benefactor Seigfreid Muller got a promotion. But for our story only three names matter: the French “mercenary king” Bob Denard, “black Napoleon” Jean-Bédel Bokassa, and “the tiger” Alexandre Banza.
Though it is the armed men who hold real power in their hands, the counter-revolutionary forces are not all German and French soldiers of fortune. The APL’s anti-clerical excesses and radical nativism also alienated the thin class of native collaborators and most of all the catholic church. Barthelemy Boganda was one such native conservative, being a native priest who has tried to act through the church to both reform and aid his flock. After the death of his mentor Marcel Grandin Boganda has become a leading figure of pro-native reform without resorting to violence or leftist radicalism.
With the alliance of French and German landowners paying for their protection the mercenaries, though still technically led by Europeans, became the foremost armed presence in the north. Battling against resistance internal and external by 1962 they have become a hated and envied force, and one which Krogmann is eager to bring into line. But the South Africa War will get in the way of any reforms, with mercenaries once again being called on to shoulder the burden of warfare and internal suppression. By the end of the conflict, no matter how it ends, the mercenaries will have become an even more entrenched force in Zentralafrika. Of course when Huttig takes over this will no longer be tolerated. Having already been humiliated by Muller before, Huttig will take great pleasure in dismissing and rounding up the mercenaries, forcing them to join his forces as regular conscripts without any special privileges. Or rather he would, if he had been fast enough to catch them. When news came of Krogmann’s death and Huttig’s assumption of control the mercenaries did not wait for the order to come: they fled if they were able, and if not they seamlessly transitioned from paid agents of the state to new warlords out for their own survival and enrichment. And more than anyone they congregated around the new king of the mercenaries: Bob Denard.
For the year Huttig’s reign lasts the gangs of former mercenaries will be yet another thorn in his side: raiding, bribing and leading his forces on goose chases. And thanks to Huttig’s destruction of any boats or airplanes he could not gain control over these same former mercenaries had nothing else they could do, unless they cared to gamble trekking all the way to Free France. But Huttig’s flailing attempts to bring them to heel was only one of many threats: in this same area socialist militants and petty warlords also sprung up, and sought to destroy the hated mercenaries themselves. When Huttig dies and the German forces retreat to Leopoldville all pretense will be dropped: the Pan-africans, Fang Gabonese and Cameroonian revolutionaries will all attempt to proclaim new states and to expel the gangsters of German capitalism for good. But with their attention divided and the mercenaries still possessing skill, fire power, and all the money the old landowners could scrap together the attempt will only be half successful. Right between the three of them the new Bêafrîka State will be proclaimed.
Born in 1929 Bob Denard first got the taste for battle during the French State’s failed expeditions against De Gaulle in the late 40s. Deciding that there was better pay and better leadership to be had in Zentralafrika he was one of the first mercenaries brought in through the “King of the Mercs” Siegfried Müller. Though he has little patience for the Reich’s racial code he is a brave commander and an ardent anti-communist. After Müller’s disappearance upon Hüttig’s ascension the stranded mercenaries looked to those bold and skilled enough to lead them, and found it in Denard.
Under the nominal presidency of Boganda, who was practically kidnaped to take the role, the new state is in perhaps the most precarious position of all post-independence states.Their domestic support rests on a incredibly thin strata of white landlords, a handful of native conservatives and a mercenary army which is already looking for a way out the back door. And opposing them is a very dedicated coalition of native nationalists and revolutionaries. It would be the most natural thing in the world for this ramshackle “state” to disintegrate. But there is one thing which can unite them, and can make them all take the risk of fighting it out: Money. Specifically diamonds, gold, and other precious metals which can be sold high on the global market. The mercenaries, native or foreign, have struck for fame in Bêafrîka with the process of becoming more than the lap dogs of the wealthy, but instead to be the wealthy themselves. Baganda hates this of course, but no one asked: the guns call the shots here. And besides, the APL has already branded him a traitor to the people: in the mercenaries' eyes he should be thankful that he still has his head. And so it is decided, the mercenaries would make their own little heaven, and all they had to do to keep it was win the war for it.
Against them stands the APL, their long-time adversary. When the war begins these Pan-africanists, supported by Cameroon and Nigeria, will take the fight to Bêafrîka. This would probably be a death sentence if it were not for the fact the APL is fighting a two front war with the Nationalists to their east. If the mercenary state should still fail it will be dismantled, with the surrounding states taking over its former territory. But if it should win this first war the gamble will have, for now, paid off. Bob, Bokassa and the rest will be able to begin bringing in the money as they use outright criminal methods to both extract and then sell the bounty of the land. The people, of course, hate this as does the nominal “president”. And within the mercenary ranks new fissures will soon begin to show. When faced with a united enemy these men were willing to work together, but now that the threat of death no longer hands quite so close the question of dividing the spoils has quickly turned into a feeding frenzy: it seems to be every mercenary clique for itself trying to carve out its own privileged fiefdom. And it is here that the reformists, such as they are, spy an opportunity.
Alexandre Banza, born 1932 to the Gbaya people, is one of the very few high ranking officers who have a ethnic connection to the land they now rule. His story is much the same as the rest of the black mercenaries: born to a poor family he saw mercenary service as a path to excitement, respect and advancement he would never get on his own. Intelligent, ambitious, and unscrupulous he would rise to become a commander of his own group before the Huttig takeover, and should he take power will rename his state the Bêafrîka Republic, embarking on a cynical campaign of “reform”.
The continued presence of white mercenaries is especially resented by the people, and none more so than commander of the presidential guard and de facto leader of the Bêafrîka State Bob Denard. As such soon after the emergency of war has passed Denard will be dismissed from his position and the two most prominent native warlords Alexandre Banza and Jean-Bédel Bokassa will be invited in to take command. Denard of course has no interest in leaving, and will arrest the president in his own residence, but not before word of the new decree leaked to the streets and the other mercenaries. So it is that the fate of Bêafrîka will be decided the only way a state built on mercenaries could be: with a shootout for control of the president. On one side is Denard: he has already made overtures to Free France and the OFN, as well as criminal contacts in Europe. By leveraging these contacts, and with the aid of the remaining white mercenaries who see his removal as the precursor to their own, he may be able to fight his way out and rise to power over the bodies of his rival warlords.
If Bob Denard and his presidential guard emerges victorious president Boganda’s days will be numbered. Unceremoniously removing and replacing him with a more compliant puppet who I will not even bother you with the name of, any promised elections will be delayed, and then delayed indefinitely. In the end even the facade of democracy will be left behind as the government instead relies on various emergency decrees and under the table deals, as well as outright coercion to cement its power. This is the true mercenary state, in which the armed and powerful take what they want from the weak and destitute: the state will see its revenues come from precious minerals and eventually oil, but just as much from the underground world of smuggling, arms trading, mercenary contracts on behalf of any who will pay, and even (if rumors are to be believed) human trafficking. Denard himself is not so unsophisticated as many of his henchmen: he portrays himself and his state as anti-communist crusaders who are willing to go to the ends of the earth to protect the people from the bolshevik menace. But it makes no difference to the people and to his neighborhood: unless those friendly to him such as the Free French and the Belgian regionalists are victorious both Denard and his state will find themselves facing external invasion sooner or later. When that happens, surrounded by disciplined enemies and facing ever increasing internal revolts, Denard will do what mercenaries do best: he will gather what valuables and guns he can before fleeing. But if this should not happen: if the Congo should remain shattered, and Nigerian ambitions fail, who knows how long the dream may last?
Living as they do in a half criminal status all mercenaries are well acquainted with the underworld. Under Bob however the state itself will come to resemble a crime syndicate, with Bob acting as the Mafia boss. More than any other single resource diamonds are the breadwinner for the “White King of Bêafrîka”, but taking a page out of Manchuria’s playbook drug production and trafficking are increasingly filling the ledger as well. The diplomatic denouncements are nothing: there are always back doors which money can open.
But all this is only if Bob and his people should win the battle for President Boganda. For the first time having the full backing of the streets and with a larger manpower pool to draw from it is likely that the native warlords Alexandre Banza and Jean-Bédel Bokassa will become the victors, chasing out the (competition) colonizers in favor of their own rule. They shall of course be rewarded by the eternally thankful president for their good deeds: Bokassa will take over as the new head of the presidential guard, while Banza will become minister of finance and foreign minister. But just as inevitably there is no throne on earth big enough for two people and so the former allies will soon look for a way to oust the other. The hope of the civilians lay in the victory of the Alexandre Banza clique. If he should succeed in arresting and disappearing his rivals Banza will seek to somewhat moderate the state. Rather than rely on naked coercion he will enforce the most basic of social contracts: in return for the country's obedience he will provide protection. Though the basic facts of the Bêafrîka State shall remain: a thriving underground, an economy based on raw export, and a army of criminals, the worst aspects of this rule will be softened and the “civilianization” of government give cosmetic reform to the regime, and finally permit the nominal president a level of dignity, even being allowed to push some of his catholic inspired social reforms. Though not much more than swapping a military uniform for a business suit this will go some way to providing a sense of normalcy, and allow the state to take a non-aligned stance rather than become the plaything of some foreign power.
On the other hand is the favorite of the soldiers Jean-Bédel Bokassa. You know him as the “mad” emperor of the C.A.R. otl, but there was always a method to his madness: one cannot remain in power for over a decade by being stupid. Where Banza seeks to normalize his regime and to be seen as a developmental junta rather than a warlord, Bokassa will lean into his reputation as a warlord, adding esoteric elements to bolster his rule over strangers. Under Bokassa the new system will be entirely personal: he will take the already weak state apparatus and effectively dismantle it, instead relying on personalized dependents to govern the capital city, and leaving the remainder of the country to its own devices so long as it bent the knee when ordered. No longer able to convincingly portray himself as a benign figure to a people who are mostly foreigners to him, he will instead tap into local superstitions to appear as the master of the occult, ruling as a man to be feared even beyond the grave and allegedly indulging in cannibalism. Perhaps even more importantly however he will make a hard switch from western backing to eastern, seeking the protection and the money of Japan. In this at least he will be fairly competent: negotiating the relationship with Japan through a mixture of bribery, utility, and threatened confiscations to wring out as much foreign aid and diplomatic backing as he can. Beyond this his rule will be one of chaos and decline with the people seeing their standard of living decrease yet further to a near subsistence level. But it will be a chaos which Bokassa alone is the ruler of.
Jean-Bédel Bokassa has been fighting longer than most: volunteering for the Free French during WW2, he was captured and ultimately released during the German conquest of Gabon. From there he drifted as a menial laborer until the northern insurrection forced the Reichskommissar to bend, and Bokassa was called up by an old french commander. From there he rose to be the de-facto head of his own suit by 1962, and now the undisputed leader of his own fiefdom. The extreme personalism and close relation with Japan will eventually result in his coronation as the sovereign of the Central African Empire.
Whether it be cynical pragmatism or esoteric terror the Bêafrîka State will remain a pariah among their fellow african nations. Cameroon and Gabon will consistently attempt to undermine and take over their territory for themselves, while even the Germans will see any government as traitors and rebels. Though its military may find a backer and its people may become cowed, the incredibly fragile state will come to an end sooner than later, unless they get very lucky. Any Nigerian victory will be a disaster, but a successful unifyer to the south and east would be a great threat as well. They were already founded in the war against one of those potential unifiers and all contenders for power recognize that a united Congo is a dangerous Congo. So, either through direct aid in the case of Denard or cheering from the sidelines Bêafrîka must hope for the victory of the regionalists and Jean Schramme.
Katanga, the Regional Alliance, and “The Belgian”.
For the Pan-Africans, the Republicans, the Nationalists and even the Germans survival is not enough: they wish to reunite the old Belgian colony under their vision of the future, and perhaps even seek expansion beyond that. But not all “congolese” feel this way: in particular the province of Katanga sees no reason why it should not be free to plot its own course. Wealthy in its own right with economic ties to the south the elite of the mining provence see no reason why they should be chained to a central government, and are at least partially supported in this by the people. Just what future this “independence” takes is is still up for grabs, but in the chaotic aftermath of Huttings death Moïse Tshombe, Albert Kalonji and Jean Schramme will form a triumvirate to lead the Regional Alliance.
Élisabethville slum. Katanga is the richest province in the Congo, as well as the one with the highest concentration of Belgians, and as such has seen the beginning of a modern city develop in its capital. It has also been the prime region for victims of the Congo Dam to migrate into, on account of its relative stability and high labor demand. This has all combined to put a great deal of pressure on those populating the land south of the lake and the development of modern slums alongside the growing city.
Katanga is, in 1962, the last remnant of Belgian colonial rule left after the German takeover. Not formally of course, that had been swept away along with Belgum itself in the 50s. But just beneath the German surface the old colonial trinity of church, company and stick still held true, and mostly under Belgian control. In the aftermath of WW2 and the establishment of Burgundy many Belgians had chosen to migrate into their old colonial territory, either for political or economic reasons. Their numbers would soon fill out the officer ranks of the Force Publique, the managerial posts of various new mines and plantations, and the pews of the catholic church. But it would not be the end of their difficulties: the old trinity clashed with Krogmann’s designs for the colony and after formally absorbing it in 1955 the contest began. Where the catholic church once held near total control over healthcare and education, not to mention religious life, Krogmann favored secularism for the european and promoted dechristianization for the native. His hopes for dissolving the FP and for removing french and dutch from the lexicon would be similarly resisted. By 1962 this contest of wills has continued to grind on, with the steady advance of germanization being constantly interrupted by economic and political expediency. The Belgian Katangaians find themselves stuck uncomfortably between German pressure from above and Native pressure from below.
This native pressure is on one hand from the educated evoles, always looking to improve the lot of themselves and sometime of their kin. But it also increasingly comes from the restless masses who have come under pressure from the fallout of the Congo Dam. As the Belgian congo moderately prospered the cities began to grow as well, with the colonial authorities making tentative attempts to accommodate the influx. But after the Congo dam and the German takeover both of these trends changed. Millions of refugees fled the great flood into the wealthiest regions they could go: Leopoldville and Katanga. The population of the cities exploded, and the subsistence agriculture still practiced by most Congolese came under incredible pressure as migrants and squatters proliferated. The Belgian authorities meanwhile were left without the resources needed to truly accommodate this change, and were left with only the Force Publique to try and keep the “indigenes” separate from the new “foreigners”. It was in this context that regionalist associations with the goal of protecting specific people, such as the Lula or Lunda, came to dominate the native political scene, such as it was. Both of these movements discovered that they had similar enemies: both resented German power and feared the “national” native resistance. But this did not yet mean they became allies.
Moïse Tshombe, the nominal head of Katanga. Born to a noble lineage and always wealthy, his desire to be liked and his lack of spin have made him into an ideal puppet for other interests. His current sponsor is the remnants of the old Belgian Union Minière, which comprise much of Katanga’s economy. Though not hated by any “his” government is in reality more beholden to his lieutenants such as Godefroid Munongo.
Katanga had lived in an atmosphere of tension even before the rise of Huttig and the advent of the “Afrikareich” did nothing to alleviate this tension. As part of Huttig’s program to fully disarm the natives and bring all armed forces under SS command he attempted to disarm the Force Publique and Belgian mercenaries, rolling them into its own armed forces. Prominent civilian Belgians were arrested and replaced with SS men, leaving both the Belgians and the natives angered. Under this new pressure some decided to give it up: the new regime could not be bargained with as the prior one was, and any resistance clearly meant death. But enterprising elements were not willing to take death laying down: most prominently this included Godefroid Munongo and Jean Schramme. Using their own wealthy connections and estates as payment they would form small resistance groups, and would be the first formal alliance between the Belgians and the regionalists. To cut a long story short when Huttig dies and the Germans retreat to Leopoldville, those SS governors who do not flee will find their lifespans much shorter than expected, and those brave or desperate enough to resist Huttig will return to power. In the face of nationalist calls to reunite the congo however, the regionalists will move first. With the lavish bribery of local mining conglomerates and the justification of “popular will”, the Belgian community led by Schramme and localist leaders will form the first concret result of their ad-hoc alliance: The State of Katanga.
In its first years Katanga is a divided and unsettled place, forced into unity by the common fear of external subjugation but beholden to competing political camps. The state itself is at least nominally led by Moïse Tshombe, descendant of the kings of the Lunda people and scion to one of the last wealthy native families. He is the figurehead of a poorly organized class of native elites and collaborators, most often independently wealthy and committed just as much to their own economic privileges as they are to the cause of regionalism itself. But despite this Tshombe heads the closest thing to a “popular movement” in the new state: the "Confédération des associations tribales du Katanga" (CONAKAT). Formed in the interest of protecting the livelihoods of the Lunda against the encroaching migrants it is through this party that the people are mobilized for war. Relying on traditional authority and elite connections in the name of a tribalism has been effective in at least countering the partisans of the republicans and nationalists which contest the provence. Just as in the other contenders the war is as much a mater of internal division as it is defeating external challenges. But in order to meet those external enemies the party has been obliged to do so with the aid of their “ally”, the Belgians.
Jean Schramme, despite his official profession, is less of a mercenary and more of a Belgian “contractor” who has a reputation for getting things done and resisting German encroachment. Coming to Africa soon after the end of WW2 he is part of a new breed of Belgians who consider Zentralafrika, or more accurately Katanga, as their true home and embrace the ideal of a paternal ruler of their “primitive” neighbors. Being a successful entrepreneur as well as part time leader of the “Leopard Battalion” Jean has become a prominent part of the Belgian expat community. But though he no longer wishes to return to Europe do not think he has forgotten what the Nazi’s did: the old motherland is dead by German hands, and he has not forgiven them.
Just as on the native side the Belgians are divided internally: German policy was frustrating and insulting, but it was also relatively stable and offered a protection against the natives surrounding them. To forgo this protection and risk battle with the world's superpowers in the name of an uncertain independence requires a boldness uncommon in men. But since when did the meek make history? Returning from his armed exile Schremme will find the FP and Belgian police in disarray, and take it upon himself to topple the last of the SS governors. In his mind there is no question: in order for the Belgians to be free and prosperous they must take the risk of rebellion against Germany and carve out their own state in the chaos. But despite his personal exploits he is unable to do this on his own, and so despite his personal distaste for allying with the native regionalists his own backers in the belgian mining and administrative class have forced him to make common cause with “their” evolese. Regardless Schremme has become the critical belgian commander in this rebelion, bringing the remainder of the belgian community with him whether they like it or not. He leads in a mercenary style, never far from the front lines and with a greater emphasis on personal bravery than more mundane things like logistics.
Though Katanga is the heart of the Regionalist Alliance it is still only one part of that alliance: to the eastern flank is Sud-Kasaï, led by Albert Kalonji as the vanguard state of the Luba secessionist movement. Both Kalonji and Tshombe claim to be protecting their people (Luba and Lunda respectively) from becoming minorities within their own land and from becoming the playthings of another foreign power, whether that be Germania, Washington or any other place. They are also both from prominent and wealthy local families, who have cooperated with the belgian colonizers for generations and have every personal incentive to resist foreign acquisition. As such their support is not primarily from the people, but from the oligarchs and the army. These are two significant advantages however: While other factions are scrambling to put together a military, a state, and to pay for it all, Katanga and her allies are able to fall back on the old colonial power structures, expanding the FP and leveraging oligarchical ties to slap together an army faster than their rivals. With the mix of audacious leadership, money and the Schramme loyalist mercenaries/formed FP officers the alliance may be able to snatch its independence despite the lack of international backing.
Map of regionalist victory, Azandeland acts as a placeholder for local authority (or lack thereof), Sud-Kasai is the Luba Empire. The immediate issue facing the regionalists will be export access: the states survival depends on the revenue from its extensive mining operations, and if that material cannot be exported it is worthless. For this Katanga must either negotiate a trade deal with the German remnants, or seek a detente with the self proclaimed frontline of liberation Zambia. Neither is eager to do this, but the world calls for what Katanga can provide, most of all Uranium. Eventually the market will win out, and one side will decide it is better to compromise principle than give the other an opportunity to gain access to the Katanga bounty.
IF VICTORIOUS the Regionalist Alliance will comprise an expanded State of Katanga, the Luba Empire, and a number of minor eastern powers propped up by Katanga. For the Luba and the Eastern chiefs the question of post war politics is an easy one: tribal traditionalism shall prevail as Albert Kalonji names himself king and the local chiefs are either bribed or threatened into compliance with the new order. While some may make efforts to modernize and advance their domains it will only be done under the watchful and occasionally helpful eye of Katanga. The only question remaining is who will be in control of Katanga itself. Jean Schramme is not a reasonable man, or at least not a moderate one: if he feels that he and the Belgians are not granted their proper place he may well try to overthrow Moïse Tshombe and install himself as the leader of the new state. The natives are less than satisfied as well: though free of foreign control it is clear to them that the old order is no longer acceptable: the people who fought and won the war for independence demand that their sacrifice be rewarded in some meaningful way. And most of all the question of race can no longer be papered over: The Belgians and Europeans remain on top, the migrants have been savaged, and the land and jobs available are not enough to satisfy them all.
To reconcile these internal difficulties a conference shall be held between the Belgian leadership of the army and company's one on hand, and the native oligarchs and officers on the other to see if a viable solution can be worked out. On the Belgian side the question is that of security and property: they wish to maintain the full roster of legal rights granted to them by belgian law, to keep their property and company concessions, and for a Belgian “veto” in the national government to ensure that Belgian rights are not trampled by some future populist government. On the CONAKAT side is a desire to renegotiate the terms of the “social contract”: to ensure a majority native voice in government which cannot be overruled by Belgian privilege, greater native ownership of property and the full abolition of any legal barriers to their advancement. However both sides are united in seeking stability and in their distrust of the congolese “masses”. Those masses are not without a voice themselves: through labor unions, dissident political parties and new officer associations the experience of warfare has made the people politically aware. If the result of the conference does not give some bones to the people it may find that its support is far too narrow to be stable.
Union Minière, once the undisputed master of the Katanga economy, has declined somewhat under German overlordship. With a majority of its shares owned by the Belgian state and its former leadership fleeing to America after the end of the war its foundations were shaky. When Krogmann began the great sell off and rescinded the Belgian Congo’s autonomy the company found itself in yet more hot water. Transitioning to a locally owned company within Zentralafrika itself the Union has been forced to cut back on its paternalistic spending to make ends meet. Beyond the typical demands for labor rights and wage increases the Kantaga people also wish for a return to the housing, education and social protection once afforded by the leviathan. With its place in Katanga once again secure this may just be possible.
A successful conference will be one of compromise. For the people a number of social protections and laws will be promised: greater state funding to education, hospitals, and housing will be promised, along with a hike in wages. In order to afford this the belgians will need to accept their privileged economic position comes with a responsibility to fund the state which protects it: though direct taxes may be a bridge too far a system of expected “gifts” and an expansion of the old paternalism into state guided policy may work out. In return for their material contributions the Belgians will receive legal autonomy, organizing their own political parties and keeping their land. The native oligarchs meanwhile would take the national stage, being granted privileged places within the Katanga economy as well as using CONAKAT as their vehicle for political dominance. Concessions and compromises such as these require that all parties trust the other to keep up their end of the bargain, and not simply alter the deal when they feel they are able. And in the aftermath of a brutal civil war and a political culture of corruption such trust is very hard to come by. But if these difficulties are overcome, and Jean Schramme is kept mollified, the new State of Katanga will be ruled as a collaborative oligarchy, keeping real representation out of the hands of the people and wealth in the hands of a few, but also a relatively stable and moderate government which is willing to compromise when need be. Unless it is a question of distrusted ethnic groups attempting to secede from the state or restart Congolese unification, in which case the Katanga Gendarmerie will be the only answer given.
But what if this conference does not succeed? What if the protests outside become too large, or the sides are too inflexible, or if Jean Schramme believes the rights of Belgians are being sold too cheaply? Then the Rule of Fire will come back and those with the force to crush their opposition will prevail. And in Katanga that can only mean one thing: Schramme and his allies will stage a coup, placing themselves in charge once again as an emergency government. Those unwilling to ally with him will be dismissed, replaced with those who are. The new mission of the state is the protection of “Belgian civilization” in Katanga, with Schramme attempting to revive the old trinity of Church, State and Company under his guiding hand. He never truly wanted to be in this position: he would much rather simply go back to his plantation and be master of his own little world. But he belives that his new homeland calls out for leadership and guts it seems only he can provide, and so he will seek to lead it into the future he envisions. One where the Congo natives are grateful and subservient to their betters, where all the structures of the trinity are led by Europeans to the benefit of all. Of course most of the natives have very different ideas about what the future should look like, and so Schremma’s Katanga will immediately be thrown into a bush war as the old civil war factions reform as guerrilla movements seeking to topple his dictatorship. The profits of Katanga are vast, especially if one is willing to sell uranium to anyone willing to buy, but how long will money and determination be able to hold against the will of the people?
At a stretch the white population of Katanga is 100,000, while the total african population is somewhere north of 1.5 million. This is before one considers the increasing populations of the Luba Empire and the eternal frontier of the Eastern Congo. And then there is the highly likely presence of hostile regimes on the borders: all the money in the world cannot win Schramme this Bush War, and he will either need to swallow his pride and accept democratization for the natives or accept the return of the Reich as suzerain. And even that may not be enough to avoid the rage of a people betrayed.
submitted by Johnny_Boy398 to TNOmod [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:42 doctorgecko Respect Yukari Yakumo (Touhou)

"Would you like to have a near-death experience? By crossing the boundary between life and death."

Yukari Yakumo

Themes:
Yukari Yakumo is a legendary youkai with the ability to manipulate boundaries. She is one of the sages who created Gensokyo in the first place, and a good contender for its most powerful resident. Despite this she is also exceptionally lazy, spending most of her time sleeping and foisting most of the problems off on Reimu or Ran. Still, her incredible intelligence and completely inhuman nature means one can never tell quite what she's thinking, and making her angry is a very bad idea.

Notes

  • Source Index
  • Perfect Memento in Strict Sense and Symposium of Post Mysticism is an in universe book written by Hidea no Akyuu. She has a tendency to exaggerate and speculate, so her claims should be taken with a grain of salt.
  • Yukari herself is noted to lie quite a lot, so her own claims should also be taken with a grain of salt.
  • In 15.5 Yukari makes use of the urban legend Teke Teke, but her attacks while using this urban legend are fairly in line with her normal capabilities. As it's unclear what effect the Urban legend is having, these feats will be included in this section but marked with Occult
  • Yukari scales to a large number of characters, so here is every Touhou respect thread for the games

Defining Some Terms

Spell Card System: The Spell Card Rules were put in place by Reimu Hakurei in order to make duels between everyone fair, formalized, and safe. It is also the method nearly all Touhou characters will use in-character. Spell card battles have very clearly defined rules and attacks that are agreed upon before a duel with the purpose being that the most beautiful attacks win. In general Spell Cards are characters going easy on the foe, with ZUN outright stating they're not something the characters would ever use if they were serious.
Danmaku: Danmaku are the "bullets" fired in a bullet hell, take many different forms, and are able to be fired by most Gensokyo citizens. They're an essential part of duels in Gensokyo, being used to control an opponent's movement and overwhelm them. They can either be fired in intricate patterns, or just fired rapidly from a single point.
Youkai: Supernatural beings typically born from humanity's fear of the unknown, and the primary residents of Gensokyo. Youkai can be highly varied, but tend to be highly resistant to physical attacks while far more weak to spiritual attacks, such as names and traditions.
Gensokyo: Genoskyo is the region Touhou takes place in, and is a small landlocked region of Japan. It is fully enclosed by the Great Hakurei Barrier (more information bellow). The clearest picture of it shows it containing a few mountains, with it also being noted Gensokyo is small enough to see almost all of it from the Hakurei shrine
  • The Sages of Genoskyo (of which Yukari is a member) are the beings responsible for the creation and maintenance of Gensokyo
Urban Legend Incident: Due to the occult balls various Urban Legends begin to manifest in Gensokyo, and some characters are capable of controlling an urban legend in battle that matches their tempermant. It's worth noting that the effects are present even after the occult balls are removed from Gensokyo though Reisen notes it will soon settle down.

Boundary Manipulation

General Description: Summarized, Yukari's power allows her to manipulate the boundary between any two things.This can apply both to physical boundaries (such as between Gensokyo and the outside world), or even the boundary of concepts (such as human and youkai or night and day).
Direct Combat Usage
Gaps and Warping
Great Hakurei Barrier
Gensokyo's Boundary of Reality and Illusion
Misc

Other Abilities

Note that a number of feats here potentially involve boundary manipulation, but it's less explicit
Energy Projection
Shikigami: Shikigami are spirits that have been turned into tools via a patter, that have software installed to control them
Umbrella
Senses
submitted by doctorgecko to respectthreads [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:42 throwrafjgc M26 Looking for [Friendship] with people in NY,NJ or CT

Hi, I want to make close friends with people who want that as well and with people who are nearby as to not make it difficult for us to meet. Someone to chat with and meet up to discover new places. I like the process of getting to know someone and listening to them during conversation and sharing details about myself. Some of my interests are: being immersed into the worlds of video games, movies and books. And broadening my perspective of the world through traveling the world, and through being around nature, animals, and by being surrounded by people and eating delicious foods in restaurants. And there is more I like to do, and that I want to do with a familiar friend. And I like for that friend to be either the kind or eccentric type! If anything of this interests you, then send me a DM. Looking forward to your reply!
submitted by throwrafjgc to MeetPeople [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:41 Zero_Rebirth Thoughts on the Ranni Questline, One and a Half Years Later

After my most recent playthrough of Elden Ring, I felt like sharing my thoughts on one of my favourite questlines in all of Soulsborne, and this was better than writing into the void that is my notes app
When I did my first run, I stumbled upon this questline by happenstance.
Initially, I joined Ranni out of curiosity more than anything, especially after her disappearance from the Church of Elleh. It led me to fell a Demigod consumed by Rot, plunged me into one of the most breathtaking locales in any game and made me nearly go hollow due to a creature born from the stars. That's not even mentioning the Gargoyles who I initially thought blocked the way out of the Ancestral Woods.
What first started as mere curiousity by the end, made me genuinely feel like I was a part of them, striving towards the same goal. When the time came to down Blaidd, I respec'ed just to face him head on, greatsword to greatsword. Good boy deserved a true warriors death, arguably more so than even Radhan himself.
When the Elden Beast fell, I didn't even care about Lordship, I felt relief for having avenged Blaidd and Iji while helping Ranni tear asunder the system that broke two of the 3 people whom I considered akin to family in the Lands Between.
Now 800+ hours later and more characters than I can count, it's still the most memorable parts of this massive, massive game. Truly a masterpiece
submitted by Zero_Rebirth to Eldenring [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:41 steconnor11 L4/L5 L5/S1 Back pain need urgent help

Hello all, I will try make this as short as possible
I am 29 Y/0 athlete non alcohol drinker suffering with lower back pain for 6+ years now. Changed my whole life around when I stopped drinking and partying for a better and healthier me. Was told to “strengthen my core” after taking up fitness and CrossFit for 2 years I am now healthiest and fittest I’ve ever been. I have got a massive 6 pack so nothing is wrong with my core surely?? I can squat 155kg & DL the same. I have competed through pain and placed top 3 multiple times and my life is directed at being an athlete but I just can not train through the pain anymore. I also drive a lot with my job which is the worst position for it.
This journey has sent me crazy. I have paid privately here in the UK for multiple MRI scans & injections you name it ive paid. I am not a wealthy man and the stress & pain of it all has contributed to suicidal thoughts. I have come from a mental health back ground and this has contributed just as much as anything ive been through in my younger life.
I was told it was my L4/L5. So we went with treating that for 2 years. That is where I paid for all the scans, phsip and injections and nothing has worked. Randomly my doctor sent me for another scan and now it says I have L5/S1 nerve compression with left paracentral and predominant central disc protrusion. Now this is a new finding about 12 weeks ago and I can not get my head around why its only just shown up on scans. But I believe that is my issue as I feel the pain go away with seated support when I am decompressing my spine around that area. I have been told by multiple professors to get used to it and it will be for the rest of my life and its not the case by others and I just need to “strengthen my core”. I can not be any fitter if I tried I have massive back muscles but around my lower discs feels so weak how is this possible?. I have been bounced round for years. Physios to surgeons and I’m sick of it. I don’t know what to do and I need to be out of pain to get competing again. I have stretched and done everything else required with 0 improvements.
Surgery isn’t an option I really don’t want to be messed with and I believe that will set me back worse which I do not want. I just want to be normal again and to be able to train without pain. My thoughts now are to start again and go to a chiropractic center near my home who is offering scans and then to re-align. The start strengthen process again once I’m straight as they told me I have some serious imbalances. I feel I have done everything else and its sending me crazy I am not 1% better, if anything I’m worse. I am also on a waiting list for a nerve denervation but that’s is just a temp fix. I was just about to have it then the new finding was scanned & then told by the pain doc I need to see a surgeon for an opinion before he does anything. I want to be healthy and strong and never come back to this again. How can I be so fit and healthy but also so weak and in pain still? I feel so lost.
Sorry if this does not make sense im confused as anyone lol. but I am desperate and Im hoping there is some success stories to share. Please feel free to ask me anything, thanks
submitted by steconnor11 to u/steconnor11 [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:41 Readyonthree123 52 [M4F] #Boston – MWM Looking for Discreet & Interesting MWF (worth reading)

I’m looking for a MWF who is intelligent, interesting, easy going and in a similar situation as myself. I’m very happy with my life the way it is and have no desire to change it, nor do I want to impact yours. I do however want that connection with someone in a way that you can’t at home or maybe even with friends. Since our personal and professional worlds don’t cross, we can discuss anything. And then there’s the physical aspect. We both have an itch that needs occasional scratching and want to explore it with someone.
I’m a busy professional with no desire to play games or connect with multiple people. I know this “thing” is peculiar but if you’re like me, you like seeing a text from the “secret” on the other end asking about your day or maybe sharing something a little more flirtatious and risqué that will turn a boring meeting or afternoon into a guilty smile and a new attitude for the day. I realize it’s difficult for a woman to reach out to a strange man in this manner and I’m willing to put in the time and effort so that the physical part is that much better. Hopefully you’re like me in that I prefer quality over quantity. Most of all, we’re discreet and careful.
About me - located south of Boston, I’m 185 lbs. with a solid build, and look younger than my age. Essentially a clean cut guy who’s confident, educated (you may question this one), have a wide breadth of interests, able to carry a conversation and enjoy a level of banter and sarcasm as well as pushing the edge. I travel the upper east coast fairly frequently (it would be a bonus if you do too). About you – you’re smart, alluring and feel as comfortable in a nice restaurant or dive bar. You’re strong yet like to have someone else take control. Lastly you have pent up passion that you want to explore with the right guy who will respect you and your boundaries.
If you think we’re looking for the same thing, then let’s start the conversation and see where it goes. To get the conversation started, tell me what your go-to drink is and what you like to do in your spare time.
submitted by Readyonthree123 to R4R40Plus [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:41 bringy Assassin's Creed 2 is a great example of a smaller, more manageable open-world game

I recently decided that I'd like to try playing through the mainline Assassin's Creed games - I'm a sucker for big stories and map checklists, so I'm really a prime candidate for this sort of series.
The first Assassin's Creed felt very much like a proof of concept: it was good, but the repetitive gameplay really started to become apparent by the time I hit the halfway point. I'd already beaten it years ago, so I decided I'd put it down and start on the second game, which is where the series REALLY finds its footing.
AC2 incorporated the feedback Ubisoft received wonderfully. The side quests are much more varied than the first, and the pacing is vastly improved.
What I like is how the game works in "open areas" rather than one giant map. So you've got maps for Florence, Venice, etc, that you can travel between. The maps expand outward as the game progresses, so the first time you're in Florence, you won't be able to go absolutely everywhere. This keeps things manageable and stops me from completely abandoning the main story to clear all of the errant icons.
It's not a perfect game - combat isn't all that engaging, with Ezio's parry being incredibly OP. The writing is very 2009, so you've got a QTE to take off a woman's dress, and lots of curse words in Italian. Desmond is the poster child for a bland protagonist (but we don't have to deal with him nearly as much as the first game). I also have to imagine that finding all 100 feathers is unbearable, so I doubt I'll be going for 100% completion.
Still, I'm really enjoying myself, and I like knowing I'll be done in 15-20 hours! Looking forward to seeing where the series goes from here. In the past, I have played AC2, and then put the series down until Origins, so we'll see what it all looks like in between.
submitted by bringy to patientgamers [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:40 Easy_7 Pen Hospital

Hello hello hello , i hope you are fine and doing great. If not you will be for sure. I like my stationary items a lot. I once got one pen from pen Hospital near masters canteen,i want that again but whenever i go i find that shop to be closed. It has been a long time i have been observing.Have they shifted? If anyone knows anything kindly let me know.
Best Easy7
submitted by Easy_7 to Bhubaneswar [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:40 girl_from_the_crypt Stuck on earth and looking for a job: We're burning down a dollhouse

When somebody suggests you commit arson together, your reaction is most likely to differ based on the identity of that person. If anyone else had asked me to come along to burn down a building, I would have assumed it was a joke. However, being aware of Frankie Preston’s barely suppressed murderous tendencies made me take his request quite seriously. Of course, three main questions presented themselves upon first consideration.
“What building?”
“A small developmental factory owned by FunFlair.”
“Do you plan on burning it while there are still people inside?”
“Only one, and that one deserves to burn alive.”
Shelving my thoughts on that answer for the moment, I inquired as to when he was hoping to go about this endeavor.
“The sooner the better. My sister—you haven’t met her—found out that they’re going to move sites in the near future, so if I want to take revenge on my old boss easily, I need to do it now. It won’t be too difficult. I know the layout of the place really well, they can’t have changed much these last three years. It’s small, hidden but unprotected. A bunch of containers in some woods a couple hours from here. The human I hate most in the entire world is there, every night, working all alone.” His shoulders twitched. “I drove by the place a couple times, and I kept thinking about doing it, but I was too scared. Having you there would make all the difference.”
“It would?” I echoed.
“Yes! Sunshine, you’re strong. Amazingly so. I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you, but the thing is, I can’t do this on my own. If you tell me to go away and never mention this again, I will. That I swear to God. Or whatever sadistic omnipotent being has put me on this world to suffer.” He briefly glanced heavenward, or rather at the ceiling, then back at me. “I can’t hurt anybody, remember?”
I nodded along slowly. “This person, your old boss… what did they do to you?”
“Simply put, she’s why I hate everything.” He spoke with an uncanny intensity, staring past me like he was miles away.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Philomena Wallis. She’s the one who keeps sending people after me. She wants me back to do fuck knows what to me because she's still pissed I screwed her over." He paused. "She did—does horrible things. You'd want her dead, too."
"Why isn't she in prison?"
"Nobody gets taken to prison if they're rich enough. Either way, what she does isn't technically illegal… and no one knows about it either. It's a tricky situation."
I took a deep breath. “Do you have a plan?”
“I do. We’ll go there at night, I’ll slip in and make sure the door to Phil’s workspace is locked, and then we’ll douse the whole thing in gasoline.”
“Are you sure you’ll need me for that? It doesn’t sound like you’d be inflicting hurt directly. I mean, you wouldn’t have to actually raise a hand to your boss, not physically. Or can you not do that either?”
“The risk lies rather within what could happen if she finds me.” He rubbed his arm, a look of uncertainty crossing his features. “I’m different when I’m around her. I can’t help it, she… she can just walk all over me. She made me be this way. There’s nothing to be done about it, except to get rid of her once and for all.”
“I’m not following. She made you be this way? What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said!” he snapped, only to shrink back and raise his hands. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!”
I stared at him in silence for a beat. “You’re terrified,” I said.
He glanced at his chucks, then back at me, looking like he wanted to say something but didn’t know what.
“Sad, too,” I added. “Sometimes, I can’t tell what you think, so I apologize if I’m reading this wrong…”
“You shouldn’t have to guess what’s going on inside my head anyways,” he muttered. “I can’t believe what I’m trying to rope you into again. It’s like I didn’t hear myself talk for a minute there.”
“I’ll help you.”
He raised a skeptical brow. “I don’t want to force you. I swear I don’t. I will do this, and I’d feel so much better if you came with, but if this is something you’re gonna resent me for in the long run…”
“The long run?”
“I mean—” He started playing with his gum again. “Are we not doing this? You really like me, I think?”
I think we shouldn’t be talking about this in the same breath as committing lethal arson.” I rubbed my nose before letting go of a long breath. “If I can’t stop you from doing this, I’ll at least make sure you come back out in one piece.” I wonder if this is how Nettie Peterson usually feels.
Frankie beamed. “You will? You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes. Here’s the plan, I drop off what I bought for my savior human and then we can prepare; do what’s needed. I don’t want to put this off. The sooner it’s over, the better.”
“Definitely,” he agreed with an eager nod. “I’ll drive you right over.”
“Good. And Frankie… you know precisely how I feel about you.”
We got on our way the following morning. The car ride lasted several hours, most of which I spent fast asleep stretched out on the backseat. It was a wonderful nap; I hardly felt any of the vehicle’s movements, admittedly a credit to the server’s abilities as a driver. Eventually, the road was getting too bumpy to ignore, and I drowsily lifted my head to find us pulling onto heavily wooded terrain. Upon noticing I was awake, Fran gave me a fleeting, quite obviously forced smile. After a few more minutes, we came to a halt on a clearing. I got out and produced a canister of gasoline from the trunk, handing it to Fran after opening the door for him. He looked strangely absent, gazing off into the distance with a vacant look in his eyes. He grabbed the offered canister and clutched it to his chest, almost like he was hugging it.
“We’ll be going the rest of the way on foot, then?” I inquired.
He nodded wordlessly.
I couldn’t hide my frown. The air around us was warm and fragrant, the moonlight shining through between the branches that seemed to reach out for us as we began walking. There was not even a hint of a breeze, and yet, a chill ran down my spine. My companion’s demeanor was nothing short of uncomfortable; he seemed to suck the warmth out of the atmosphere around us, together with my initial confidence and the sweet scent of pine needles. His silence instilled in me a clammy sense of dread, and I couldn’t shake it no matter how hard I tried. Normally, I would have probably appreciated the perfect calm and serenity of the lush forest around us, but seeing him in such obvious, unspoken distress drove away all my idyllic thoughts.
“This seems like an odd place to hide a factory,” I remarked, trying to open a conversation once more.
“That’s the point. You wouldn’t go looking for a doll manufacturer in bum-fuck nowhere,” he replied.
“It’s strange to think about. What kind of shady stuff can a toy manufacturer even get up to? Don’t get me wrong, I trust you when you say they’re bad people, I just wish you’d give me a little more information. I feel like I’m not getting something here.”
He let out a low hum. “You… are really innocent.”
“No, I’m not,” I argued, affronted.
“Not in a bad way. I said innocent, not naive. I’ve been cagey again, I know that, but the thing is, you’ll see exactly what I was talking about when we get there. You’ll understand everything, and to be honest, I’m very afraid of what you’ll think once you do.”
We finally reached the building Fran had told me about. If it could indeed be called a building. It looked more like something that had been thrown together by a larva using Lego bricks. It was, as predicted, a bunch of containers lined up and stacked atop one another, small corridors and open metal staircases connecting them. It seemed to be almost entirely empty—all the lights were out, except for a single one. From behind a window on the upper floor, filtered through gray blinds, a cool, bright glow shone down upon us. It bathed Frankie in its surreal luminescence that seemed completely out of place given our raw, natural surroundings.
“You were right,” I stated, tearing him from his rigor. “Seems like there’s only one person in there.”
“That’s Phil,” he mumbled. “I’m certain.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Frankie detached himself from the canister, peeling it off his body like a piece of clothing. I took it from his hands while he walked over to the nearest door, reaching into his pocket to produce a set of shiny, slim tools. Despite the darkness, he set his fingers to work on the lock. It didn’t take long at all for him to let out a satisfied sound, straightening up as he held the now open door for me. “I’m very skilled at lockpicking,” he said lightly, by way of conversation.
I couldn’t hide the admiration in my gaze, and I gave him a proud smile that briefly caused his features to soften. I had not yet crossed the threshold when he grabbed me by the wrist, holding me back. “One more thing,” he whispered, his voice suddenly ringing desperate again, “you won’t like what we might see in there.”
“I know,” I answered. “It was implied.”
Stepping forth into the dark room, the smell of plastic and coffee instantly hit my nose. Fran fumbled for a lightswitch before thinking better of it and turning on the flashlight he’d brought. We were clearly in a breakroom; there was a table in the middle surrounded by chairs, an espresso machine in the corner and several calendars and posters taped to the walls. Unsuspecting. Frankie didn’t comment, immediately moving across the cube and towards the door on the other side. It led out into a small corridor, improvised using more corrugated iron elements, and into another larger container. There was a desk with a computer in one corner and an empty operating table in the center.
A large shelving unit occupied the entire left side of the room. A closer inspection revealed that it held all sorts of small parts, though what they were parts of was beyond me. Opening the plastic drawers at random, I glimpsed all sorts of metallic and silicone pieces, forming strange little… thingies.
“What is all this?” I asked Frankie.
He had been standing by the operating table, staring at it with unblinking eyes. His expression was once more perfectly vacant. Not even his jaw was moving around his bubble gum. He didn’t look up, and for a minute, I wondered if he’d heard me at all. “Doll parts,” he suddenly answered, his voice lacking any inflection.
I frowned, picking up one of the tiny metallic objects and inspecting it closely. I could see what he meant now—it appeared to be a very small joint, perhaps for a finger. “When you said FunFlair made dolls, I thought you meant these stiff little baby dolls. I didn’t know they made them this detailed.”
“Oh, they can be detailed alright.”
“Is this, like, a robotics thing? Can they move on their own, too?”
Frankie let out a sharp, mirthless laugh that was much too short. He fell completely silent again, and it felt as though the room had gotten colder. I bit my lip, placing the finger joint back in its box. I tentatively reached out to Fran and rested a hand on his upper arm, only for him to flinch, drawing away as if burned. “D-don’t touch me right now,” he pleaded.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed.
“No, I am. Don’t mind me, okay? Let’s—let’s just go on.”
So we did. Another makeshift corridor led us over into the next container. The beam of our flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing a sight that made me stop in my tracks. There were several bodies propped up in the corners of the room, bodies that I only realized on second glance were artificial. They were of roughly the same size as the average person, with fully formed arms, legs and everything. Their faces however were different. Most of them weren’t even fully complete, the skin-like material not fully covering their heads and leaving the mechanical structures underneath uncovered. Their eyeballs—sitting in hard plastic sockets and unframed by lids—stared out at us blankly, utterly void and expressionless.
Cold dread began to seep into my bones, paralyzing me for a second before I managed to break from my stillness. Taking a step towards one of the lifeless figures, I bent down to get a closer look. Keeping my distance, I reached out a single finger to trace along one of the countless delicate wires peeking out from the soft patches of facial material. It was cool to the touch, making my skin crawl. I pulled back, turning to Frankie in bewilderment. “Wh-what is all this?” I asked hesitantly.
“That’s them. That’s the dolls.”
“Well, yes, I can see that but this… this is really, really unnerving.”
He let out a strangled, mournful sound. “I guess it is,” he said eventually, his voice low and flat. He knelt down beside me, a little closer to the doll, and started fumbling around with the back of its neck, clearly looking for something. Finally, I heard a little click, followed by a whirring noise as the doll jerked up its arm. I squeaked, scrambling back on my hands and rear, only to find my back suddenly pressed up against the chest of another mannequin. I hadn’t done a thing, but it instantly sprang to life; robotic fingers clamping down around both sides of my nape. The painfully fierce touch wiped away every last bit of my composure, and I let out a shriek that seemed to tear apart the relative silence. Frankie spun around to fix me with the beam of his flashlight, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut. My heart was hammering against my ribcage, seemingly exploding when the hands started pulling me closer against the lifeless, yet animate body.
The next thing I knew was that Fran had leapt forward and removed me from the doll’s clutches with one swift, powerful yank. My chest was heaving and I couldn’t suppress a low whimper when I pressed myself to his side, frantically glancing about my surroundings. My fangs were bared, but my racing pulse was admittedly overtaxing me. I couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts. My flight-instinct was kicking in, further setting off my panicked response when I realized I might end up involuntarily jumping dimensions again.
Suddenly, I felt Frankie’s hand on my cheek, the gentle pressure tilting my head up to make me meet his gaze. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice equal parts firm and understanding. The fog in my head lifted just a little.
“They’re not going to hurt you,” he went on, his thumb stroking the curve of my outer ear. However he managed to convey such certainty when he himself had been so uneasy mere moments ago was beyond me, and yet, I found myself believing him. My breathing slowed and I hazarded a second glance at the doll I had bumped into.
It had stopped moving, its body having locked into an unnatural, almost feral-looking position. It was cowering on all fours, its torso lowered and its head up. Its neck was bent at such an extreme angle that it was approaching the comical.
“What the fuck was that?” I whispered, the curse word escaping me before I could stop myself.
“Some of them have to be activated manually, others can be turned on just by touch. I remember that,” Frankie replied. “There’s no need to be afraid of them, though. Even if it’s hard to believe considering… well.” He gestured at the oddly crouching doll at our feet.
“Something’s very wrong here,” I muttered, unable to tear my eyes off the lifeless, incomplete face. “I didn’t even know they made toys like that.”
“They’re not for children,” Frankie said, his eyes glazing over once more.
“Are they, like, robots? Do they know what they’re doing?”
“Not if they’re lucky, they don’t.” He paused. “They’re not made to think. Any awareness they might have would be unplanned for.”
“And you really used to work here? Did you help build them?”
“We can talk about that once we’re out of here.”
I swallowed. “Look, I’m freaking out. This can’t be a normal production site.”
“It’s not. I wish you didn’t have to see this. It… it only gets worse. And your instincts aren’t failing you, none of this is right. If you want to back out, I don’t blame you. This place shouldn’t exist.”
I took a deep breath. I wished I had insisted on knowing the full truth before coming here, but it couldn’t be helped now. Instead of prying further, I pointed at the canister of gasoline. “Then let’s remedy that.”
Despite himself, Frankie smiled.
Instead of mirroring the expression, I felt my own features suddenly derail. “Oh crap.”
“What is it?”
“Do you think she heard me scream?”
X
1
2: deadbeat roommate
3: creepy crush
4: relocation
5: beach concert
6: First date
7: Temp work
8: roommate talk
9: a dismal worldview
10: warehouse
11: staircase
12: explanation
13: hurt
14: hospital
15: ocean
16: diner
17: government work
18: something in the caves
19: shopping cart
20: olms and Jewels
21: long hair
22: recruitment
23: waitresses
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2023.06.06 14:40 Newsmf1997 I want to reconnect with an old friend but I’m terrified

I want to reconnect with an old person in my life but I absolutely cannot bc of anxiety. In 2018 I met this guy when I wasn’t looking for anything serious. We ended up becoming best friends for awhile and I really fell in love. We spent nearly every weekend together and he was so important to me. I kept my feelings to myself until I couldn’t and then he didn’t really want anything at the time and then I moved away. I ghosted in a means to get over it all but he reached out anyway and we started talking again. Fast forward I moved back and we’re both dating other people and coincidentally my partner at the time ended up getting a job in this guys city so I was there a lot. Me and that bf are broken up now for other reasons.
At any rate I still miss this friend so much and I just wish we could idk get a second chance or be around each other again? Some days it’s whatever but he’s just been on my mind alot lately. Our relationship had some road blocks but I think we were both growing up a bit and had different things to learn. We last had a quality convo on new years and then he reached out when my mom passed. We only ever talk when he reached out first bc I’m just afraid. This is just the one thing I’ve had trouble getting over. I’m afraid to reach out out of fear of getting hurt again/him still being in a relationship/feeling annoying/not knowing what to say. I think of him all the time though. It hurts. Idk what to do so I just do nothing. Part of me hopes the universe just gives me a little help one way or another.
submitted by Newsmf1997 to Advice [link] [comments]


2023.06.06 14:39 AllegroAppassionato Extreme swelling and pain less than 24 hours after a vasectomy

I had a vasectomy yesterday around 11:30am. While I experienced the usual discomfort, I was generally ok and able to get up/down. Towards the later afternoon I started to notice my right testicle swelling. I had been using frozen veggies to ice the area every so often. I took some ibuprofen for the swelling. Around 5:30pm, I drive to my sons t-ball game. I was sitting the entire time. I came back home and saw that the swelling was about the size of an avocado. I laid down and continued to ice. I then (stupidly) drive out to a restaurant for an hour or so. By the time that was done and I got home, the right testicle was nearly baseball sized, firm, with a deep red/purple bruise across it. After waking up this morning, the swelling it still there and my groin area right above the right testicle is also now in intense pain. Just getting up and down to use the bathroom made me feel like I was going to pass out. I would say I have a normal tolerance for pain.
I am male, white, 37. I do not smoke. I am a type 1 diabetic. I am 6ft tall and weigh approximately 165 pounds. I have had no other medical issues and no previous surgeries.
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2023.06.06 14:38 CauseRemarkable6182 Does anybody miss the restaurant deliveries?

It used to be a solid moneymaker for me and I rarely had an issue at the restaurants I picked up from. Pay was reasonable and at worst it was still better than DD. I know it's super market depandant I was curious on how folks felt about them.
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2023.06.06 14:37 TheSecondAugust Assault of nightmares

I’ll preface this by saying that in the past, I used to get constant endless nightmares at night that would leave me grouchy, depressed, and sleep deprived. I got therapy and mental help for my ptsd. They nearly went away completely after several months of working on myself and quitting a bad binge drinking habit for good.
But last night was just horrendous. I even got up at one point for some water and a weighted blanket lol. It didn’t end after that, either.
I recall them all vividly, but don’t feel comfortable describing the hyper realistic memory ones.
As for the absurd nightmares, there was one about floating men trying to get in through the windows, one about sinkholes enveloping my partners workplace and possibly killing him, and a lot of the other ones involved my precious baby cat getting very badly hurt or worse.
I haven’t had them in a while, but I used to have dreams a lot about dying or getting murdered. When I got up for water and a blanket, it was because I was startled awake by a dream where I was shot in the stomach, fell into a lake and drowned. Horrifying.
I’ve been just sitting here now. I don’t often cry but I woke my partner up on accident from literally shaking and crying. Maybe I convinced myself that the trauma nightmares were over when they actually aren’t? Man. Why did they even come back?
It’s better right now. I’m tired, but I’ve got my blanket and my kitty with me. Just having trouble getting out of bed after all of that.
submitted by TheSecondAugust to Dreams [link] [comments]