Elaborately Engraved and Inlaid Four Barrel Swivel Breech Percussion Combination Gun by M. J. Whitmore of Potsdam, New York
from Rock Island Auctions
“M. J. Whitmore of Potsdam, New York, worked at the Wagon & Gun Shop and is believed to have been the man who trained Lewis L. Hepburn of Remington fame. He was one of the men listed on a breech loading patent in 1860 and also received a patent for a "clock, calendar.” Many of Whitmore’s surviving firearms utilize the swivel breech mechanism and have long metal actions like this example. Most, however, are over/under combination guns, but this unusual mid-19th century arm has four barrels. Three are .40 caliber and rifled and one is .410 caliber smoothbore. The paired rifle barrels share a blade front sight and adjustable notch rear sight, and the other rifled barrel and smoothbore barrel have individual sets of sights. All four barrels and the left side of the action at the wrist are stamped with “M. J. WHITMORE/POTSDAM N.Y.” The barrels have floral engraving patterns and the action has additional floral engraving as well as rural scenes and patriotic motifs. There is clever trap compartment in between the barrels that contains a wooden ramrod. The butt has numerous engraved German silver inlays, including a reposed stag, a cabin scene on the patch box door, a sun, and stars. The engraving and stock inlays are similar to known Whitmore rifles manufactured in Massachusetts by Nathaniel and Nathaniel Gilbert Whitmore and pictured in the included copy o the article “My Magnificent Whitmore” by David Wood, Jr. suggesting a family connection. N. G. Whitmore was the master armorer at Springfield Armory and also manufactured a very fine rifle for General Grant that was displayed at the Smithsonian.“
notes: this was a warm-up that got out of hand. originally “idk hickeys?” and @wuzzyletoastermac has better titling skills than I can hope for. chaos-flavored fluff, T, killugon and friends featuring leorio, palm, and ikalgo. 800 words.
There’s a lot Leorio takes for granted, being a Hunter and a doctor. For one, that his friends tend to be really, really weird. And not just the weirdness that is Gon Freecss managing to mangle his arm every six months like clockwork, or how Killua Zoldyck can shoot lightning from his fingertips and usually uses that skill to turn metal surfaces around Leorio into minefields of static. Or even that one of Killua’s closest friends is an octopus who likes to hang out on his head like an oddly-shaped rifle-wielding hat.
All that? Totally fine. But he never expected Palm Siberia leaning over to him and whispering intently, “Did you notice the hickeys on Killua’s neck.”
An Extremely Fine Rifle Officer’s Presentation Sword
83cm blade by J. & W. Wood, Cutlers, Manchester, finely etched with foliage, stands of arms, crowned VR cypher, the Arms of Stockport, slung bugle horn, Prince of Wales feathers, recipient’s crest and arms and presentation inscription, the gilt patent solid hilt, the guard cast and pierced with foliage, Prince of Wales feathers, the unit title of The Stockport Rifle Volunteers Fourth Battn Cheshire, around the Arms of Stockport, the Royal cypher, a slung bugle horn and the recipient’s crest, the back-piece cast with laurels, oak leaves and acorns and a classical helmet, wire bound chequered horn grips, in its gilt scabbard with large gilt mounts embossed with foliage and panels of trophies of arms against a stippled matted ground, two suspension rings, complete with its blue and gold bullion sword and knot.
The inscriptions reads: Presented to Major Coppock, By His Late Company The First Stockport or XVIIth Cheshire Rifle Volunteers, May 4th 1861. HENRY COPPOCK appointed Captain when the 17th (Stockport) Company was formed 10 March 1860. Upon the formation of the 4th Administrative Battalion, Cheshire Rifle Volunteers 20 November 1860, he was appointed Major (though with a Captain’s rank), a position he held until his death in 1870.
He was born in 1806 in Stockport and became a lawyer. Upon the formation of Stockport Borough in 1835 he was appointed Town Clerk, and served the town through the troubled times of the Chartists Riots and other insurrections.
He fathered 12 children and resided at Daw Bank House, Stockport. He died in 1870. His ‘family’ arms/crest appear to be his own invention. The Arms for Stockport as shown on the sword are still in use, though they were not Granted until 1932.
Rating: G Characters: Garrus Vakarian, Tali’Zorah, James Vega, FemShep Relationship: Shakarian Words: 1,876
When We Stop Reacting to Our Parents
Sanctuary had been … unsettling. If Garrus had seen it
three years ago, he might’ve thought it was something particular to humans, a
testament to some moral deficiency inherent to the entire species. But turning
against one’s own in hopes of self-preservation, however misguided? He’d seen
enough now to know that was just people.
But those thoughts seemed far away as he helped a mumbling,
stumbling Tali into her bunk. He thought about the myriad ways he could
blackmail her by recording her drunken ramblings, but when she started talking
about Miranda fighting against her father, about her never bending to please
him, he decided to show mercy just this once.
“I think it’s time for bed,” he told her as he eased her
onto the mattress.
“Keelah, Garrus,” she’d said, her words a little too long. “Advisor
to the Primarch. War hero. Shepard’s boyfriend. Your father must be so proud of
you.” She fell back against her pillow, still fully clothed, and closed her
eyes. In a quieter voice, she said, “I wonder what that’s like.”
1. Oppose Nazism through ordinary political channels, winning people to your side and supporting non-Nazi politicians.
2. Make sure you have both the means and the will to oppose an actual, literal coup.
Because the Nazis DID IN FACT GAIN POWER ONLY AFTER A COUP and NEVER GAINED A MAJORITY OF THE VOTE. So the actual problem that led to Nazi takeover was not the lack of street brawls and sucker punches, but the inability to properly defend from violence in in an immediate sense AFTER the enemy had already initiated violence. Unless the rising tide of Nazism is even stronger than it even was in Weimar Germany, you do not in fact need to undermine the principles of democracy to protect yourself from Nazi takeover.
So if you feel the need to stock up on rifles and canned goods, fine. Because those are the actual things you would need to defend against a coup or fight back after one has taken place. But please, stop weakening the norms of democracy in the name of short-term purity.
I have read in many places that the Sig 550 is one of the finest 5.56mm rifles today. In my corner of world a proper 550 is nearly impossible to find. The few I have seen were prohibitively expensive. To add insult to injury, Sig gave the American market the 556. A rifle made with terrible QC and often shipped with an airsoft quality red-dot sight rather than a rear diopter. Would you tell us (again) about why the 550 is such a fine rifle?
Sorry for the late answer, I’m just back in Switzerland after the last two months passed dealing with some family business and wandering in France.
Anyway, I agree with you with the awfulness of the 556, which was a production of SIG-Sauer, not of SIG.
Honestly, the SIG 550 is very expensive for a good reason : it cost a lot to produce, with very high quality control and very high standard of performance, durability and reliability.
With the F ass/Stgw 90, you’ve got a service rifle with an impressive accuracy (a militia soldier should be able to hit groups at 300 meters that would be considered fair in most Occidental armies at 100 meters, and with the old Kern 4x optic, he should still hit foes at 600-800 meters, depending on the wind),
great ergonomics (I’m guessing next generation rifles will have touchscreens and AI assist to deal with the mechanical system, but for the moment, the 550 is still state of the art if you believe in the virtues of positive grip and action, not just having to deal with tiny buttons and gravity to gain a few tenth of second on the range),
real-life reliability and decades of durability.
I’ve seen what a few F ass/Stgw 90 can be after almost thirty years of intensive use (it was first issued in 1988), and apart from the normal change of wearing parts (springs and barrel), they are still at 100 %, which is not something I could say about other heavily used infantry rifles I had in my hands (FAMAS, FNC, M16A1, AKM…).
The worst copy I know of has clearly have been beaten with a hammer by a disgruntled soldier, with fucked up iron sights, seriously worn barrel, destroyed finish, and it’s still working reliably and still get a fair level of accuracy at 300 meters.
This is why I consider this rifle as the best military rifle more or less on the market today, and a pity it was not able to compete on the American market in the nineties - the access to such a civilian market would probably have saved the old SIG of Neuhausen.
so i have lots of documents that i write fics in and i was looking for something in one of them and found an old ‘first time’ one that i never finished (basically it was a ‘the girls talking to Y/N about sex one’ but i decided to finish it with a ‘first time’) so yeah here’s that (no smut cuz im a fluffy piece of shit)
You knock on the hotel room door, rubbing the hem of your shirt between your fingers anxiously. A moment later, Mack opens the door, and lets you inside. The entire floor of the hotel is Z free. With a little bit of work, you were able to get rooms open for everyone who wanted their own. You were in one with 10k, and for no reason you freaked yourself out, and left the room, only to pace the hallway. That was an hour ago. You head into Mack and Addy’s room, not shocked to see that the sheets are in shambles, and things are knocked over. Your cheeks flush, and Mack climbs onto the bed beside Addy-both of them fully clothed, thankfully-and grin smugly. “Why aren’t you with 10k?” Addy asks. Your cheeks get even hotter, and you drop your gaze to the floor, clearing your throat. “Mack, out.” Addy commands. You look up, and Mack furrows his brows, feigning offense. “You aren’t actually going to make me leave, are you?” He says. “We’re having girl talk.” She says. He opens his mouth to protest, but she narrows her eyes dangerously, and he climbs off the bed, sliding into his shoes. “I’m gonna go find Doc’s room. I bet him and Murphy are playing cards, and being inclusive.” Addy arches a brow, and he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You sink into the bed, flopping on your back, throwing an arm over your face. “I have absolutely no idea what to do. Or how to do it.” You grumble. Addy grabs your arm, uncovering your face. You sit up, pulling your legs onto the bed, facing her. She sits cross legged across from you, looking happier and more at ease than you’ve seen her in a long time.