Internet finally stopped being a tremendous pile of hot garbage and I can finally upload pics!
I was playing around with natural lighting today and got some pics I`m happy with. Numbers one and two are just experimenting with different handguard/magazine combos on my Bulgarian AKS-74. Number three isn`t anything specific, and four is an airgun with a few AK74 mags. For number five I pulled my French surplus FELIN T4 smock out of the closet to act as a background. Still unsure what I was going for but I nailed it! Last pic, number six, was a spur-of-the-moment thing, I was putting the S74 away when I decided I`d grab my shotgun and trusty leather jacket. I laid the jacket out on the floor, set the shotgun on it and tossed on a handful of Winchester`s Super X buckshot and a few wads from the bucket. I think it gives off a very “Terminator” vibe, and I`m thinking of adding a photo effect or two to see what I can do with it.
EDITING TO ADD
these aren`t the full-resolution pics, I had to get a little creative to get them to upload.
Around the turn of the century in West Virginia, the coal companies controlled everything. They owned the towns, had their own private militias, and even paid local law enforcement officers and politicians. However, the coal companies control over the state began to wane when the miners started to unionize. One of the last counties to unionize was Logan Country, located in the southwest of the state. In 1920, agents of the Baldwin Felts Detective Agency arrived in the independent town of Matewan to evict several miners families and arrest the local police chief, Sid Hatfield. Hired by the coal companies, the men were essentially there to strong arm the town, which was staunchly pro-union. Days before, the coal companies had tried to bribe the local mayor into placing 5 machine guns on the roofs of the town buildings "in order to maintain order" among the coal miners. The agents threw out several families from their homes at gunpoint. They were met by Chief Hatfield and his deputies, who told them to get out of town. A gunfight ensued, resulting in the deaths of ten men, 7 of which were Baldwin Felts agents, including two of the brothers of the company’s founder, Albert and Lee Felts. The town mayor, Cabell Testerman, was also killed.
Police Chief Sid Hatfield
Sid Hatfield was cleared of murder charges, which was seen as a great victory against the coal companies. Bolstered by the victory, Sid Hatfield and a union organizer named Bill Blizzard organized the miners of Logan County into a union, which quickly went on strike. The coal companies responded by hiring scabs and strike breakers. On August 1st, 1921 Sid Hatfield was called to McDowell County to stand trial for sabotaging a mine. While walking up the courthouse steps with his friend Ed Chambers and their wives, a group of Baldwin Felts agents opened fire, killing Hatfield and Chambers. Chambers, who was only wounded, was executed by one of the agents with a gunshot to the back of the head.
Enraged, the miners took up arms and organized to forcefully break the power of the coal companies. They were joined by thousands of miners from other counties who were sympathetic to their cause. Altogether, the miners formed an army consisting of around 10,000 men. Its is no exaggeration that they were an army, many of the miners were World War I veterans who had seen combat in Europe. Armed with hunting rifles and shotguns, they organized battalions and regiments, assigned commanders, set up command posts, set up hospitals and mess tents, dug trenches, and did everything that a well organized army would do. Their opposition, a eclectic group of coal company militias, guards, state and local police, and Baldwin Felts agents, only numbered around 3,500, however they were well armed with machine guns and other military weapons.
On August 25th, the two sides met, and a battle raged in the West Virginia mountains for almost a week. In the ensuing battle, 50-100 miners were killed, around 30 men on the side of the coal companies were killed. Hundreds more were wounded on both sides. The battle ended when Federal troops arrived on September 2nd. 985 miners were indicted for treason and murder, but in the end none were charged. Overall the battle was a victory for the coal companies in the short term, who clamped down even harder on the miners. In the long term, the battle was a victory for the miners, as the battle rose awareness of the coal miners plight.
Designed by John M. Browning and manufactured c.1978 by FN Herstal - serial number
8L3RP7547. 12 gauge superposed twin-barrels, top-break action, gold plated, aluminium alloy receiver. Fuck this quidditch bullshit, this is a gun made to shoot down the golden snitch.
Vintage H&R Single Shot 12 Gauge Shotgun. A throwback to my youth, a 40 year old H&R single shot 12 gauge, a few shells and a Buck knife. Wish I would have held on to mine! An inexpensive practical weapon for the prepper or for home defense.
Dean was on his way home from a hunt, Sam riding shotgun and already trying to find another case for them. The younger Winchester didn’t notice when Dean took a slight detour, passing by the house he’d spent many a night in, tangled in sheets, sweaty and grinding against her.
They pulled up to the bunker and climbed out of the car, Sam heading straight for bed while Dean popped open the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass. Pulling out his phone, he began looking for a distraction, anything to get his mind off of her.
Scrolling through his phone, he found her name again, his finger hovering over the highlighted words.
“Fuck it.” He muttered, the pad of his thumb gently tapping the contact, phone dialing her number.
When she answered, the conversation was short. Two words from him, in the form of a question, followed by a single, simple word answer from her. The he was on his way to her place. Again.
As his headlights bounced off her house, he caught a glimpse of her shadow through the curtains upstairs. Shutting down the Impala, he ripped the keys from the ignition and headed for the door. He didn’t need to be let in, he knew where the key was - hiding under the mat.
“Not safe.” He mumbled, making a mental note to tell her to move it later.
Another week rolled by, and he found himself at the little dive bar where they’d met. He knew she’d be there. She always was.
“Hey there.” Her voice came from behind him.
Spinning, he saw her grinning at him, hair pulled half up and the rest billowing down over the cut shoulders of one of his shirts.
Damn, she looked good.
“How much longer are you planning on staying?” She sank onto the stool beside him.
“Finish this drink, then I’m heading out.” He lifted his bottle.
“My house?” She smirked, sipping her own drink.
“I… I don’t think so. Not tonight.” He shook his head, licking his lips and waiting for the worst.
“Did I do something wrong?” She leaned back and looked him over, furrowing her brow.
“No, no. Not at all. I just… Maybe we should stop?” He winced at his own words.
He didn’t want to stop. Of course he didn’t. But he was afraid of what was happening. He was falling for her, and that terrified him.
“Stop? Stop. Okay…” She fished in her pocket and dropped a few bills on the counter, enough to cover her only drink, and then strutted toward the door, catching the eye of a few men on her way out.
One of them followed her before Dean had the chance to go after her. Then he heard her yelling through the open doors. He sprinted for the parking lot, running to her and catching her as the ugly son of a bitch who went after her shoved her to the ground.
“You better get the hell out of here, buddy. If you know what’s good for you.” Dean glared up at the man.
He scoffed and spun on his heel, heading back into the bar to go after some other poor girl.
“Didn’t have to follow me.” She mumbled, pushing herself up off and away from him, then brushing the gravel from her hands and backside.
“I heard you yelling. I wasn’t just going to leave you out here on your own.” He explained.
“Well… you should have. I thought we were stopping.” She mocked his tone.
Dean crashed his lips into hers and pushed her back against the trunk of his car. Between kisses, he murmured against her lips, “Does this seem like I want to stop?”
She reached around and fumbled for the handle of the back door, opening it and climbing inside, pulling Dean with her. As she arched up into him, he rolled his hips against her, the two of them knowing exactly what the other needed.
Waking up next to her, Dean leaned over and kissed her forehead before leaving the bed.
“Stay for breakfast.” She groaned sleepily.
Dean flinched, his whole body jumping when she spoke. He knew he shouldn’t, knew that if he stayed, he would only come to love her more. When he turned back to look at her, the tiny smile on her face was enough to pull him back. So what if he got burned? So what if this could end at any second and he’d be crushed? Right now, this was what he wanted, and he’d be damned if he was going to let one more good thing get out of his grasp. He’d fucked up enough times to know that playing with fire will get you burned, but maybe he liked the scars.