round rail

anonymous asked:

Today a little girl was spinning round and round on the railing in between the tills and I asked her nicely to stop. Her dad yelled at me, and when I said I just didn't want her to get hurt he said she was at the top of her gymnastics club and wouldn't fall. Then there was an enormous crashing sound. She'd fallen onto the next customer's item - a big box of wine glasses she'd put on the floor because they were heavy. She had to go to hospital to get glass out of her shoulders. I'm so angry.

dontfeelsogood  asked:

I have so many asks for you based off your post for gang 3! First one is: Damien getting seasick on way to France

A/N: This has taken me a ridiculously long time to get to writing, but actually I had a really good time writing this - esp with lil lovely Jude! I hope you enjoy! ❤️


It was new and exciting. Damian had never been on a ferry before – let alone an overnight one! Their parents had decided that they would drive down to Hull and board the ferry crossing to Calais, then they’d be able to drive to the places in Northern France that they wished, rather than flying and relying on public transport. They’d considered the Eurostar train as well, but again that didn’t leave them with quite so many options when they got to the other side.
Emilia had been going on about it for weeks, talking about how she was going to explore through the corridors and find the buffet car – because for some reason the concept that a ferry wasn’t like a train hadn’t quite transferred into her mind. Neither Jude nor Damian had thought to correct her though, the idea of exploring through the cabins held about as much appeal to them as it did for her.

Damian had even foregone the right to argue over the front seat of the car (especially after the puking incident with Jude the last time), as the prospect of a new adventure on a ferry was much more exciting than the front seat of the car. The excitement that seemed to light up Emilia’s whole face, as they parked the car in the vast underbelly of the ferry, was similar to how Damian felt – a fluttering of anticipation deep inside his belly.

Some of that anticipation had dropped off by the time they reached the cabin that they would be sleeping in that night. When his dad mentioned it would be ‘cosy’ Damian hadn’t quite reckoned that it would be quite so squashed. With all beds folded down there was barely room to move in the cabin, and Damian had allowed Jude and Emilia to have the top bunks, simply to keep the peace in such a cramped space. Just as he was folding his pyjamas and laying them on the pillow of his bed, he felt a strange sensation. Starting with a swooshing, rushing in his ears and then travelling through the rest of his head and body.

“What was that?” He asked, pausing in unpacking and sure that everyone else must have felt it also.

“What was what?” Jude replied, poking his head over the edge of the bed above Damian’s.

“That whoosh feeling?” Damian said, but Jude simply raised his eyebrows, a badly hidden smirk on his face.

“I didn’t feel anything…” Jude commented, almost vaulting from the edge of his bed and landing gracefully on the floor, but their dad had placed his hand on the wall of the cabin.

“I think it was the engines starting,” he said, looking at Damian as he removed his hand. “We must be moving.”

“Are we?” Emilia chirruped, leaping down from her bed and not landing quite so gracefully as Jude had. “Can we go and see?”

“Finish unpacking first missy, then we’ll all go and have a look around,” he commanded firmly.

“But I’m finished!” Emilia protested.

“Then you’ll just have to wait for your brothers,” he told her. “They’ll just be a few minutes.” She sighed theatrically and crossed her arms over her chest. Damian bent back down into his bag, unpacking his pyjamas while hiding from the glare of his younger sister; once again as he rose his head felt like he was swirling and the ground underneath him was unstable.

“Whoa Damo, your face looks funny,” Emilia said, and as she said this both of his parents turned from where they were unpacking.

“Shut up Emilia,” Damian tried to sound fierce but it came out timid and quiet.

“Hey! We don’t tell people to shut up!” She answered indignantly.

“How about we leave the unpacking for now and go and have a look around?” Their mum suggested, and Damian spotted her giving a meaningful glance to his dad.

“Yes!” Emilia agreed, racing to the door, then his dad piped up:

“Damian and I will catch you up in a minute,” he motioned for Jude and Emilia to go with their mother – and at this Damian would have been concerned, had it not been for that sensation sweeping through him again, and this time not stopping at his head. It felt like a cold wind that settled in the pit of his stomach and made him feel uncomfortable.

“Now the men can finish unpacking without disturbance!” His dad joked, giving Damian a sideways glance as he laid out his own pyjamas.

“Yeah,” Damian muttered, but now he was sure he could feel every pitch and sway of the boat underneath him.

“Once we’re done, we can take a wander around,” he assured, “perhaps we could meet the rest of them up on the deck.”

“Sounds good,” Damian was steadying himself on the rail of the fold down bed. In the five minutes that the boat had been moving he’d managed to go from excited to suddenly dreading the rest of the trip – perhaps he’d get used to the strange motion? Emilia and Jude hadn’t seemed to even notice. He tried to fold his pyjama top one handed, but in the end just dumped it down and turned to sit on the edge of the bed, hoping that he’d hide it from his dad’s view.

“Is that you ready?” His dad asked, and Damian was sure he’d noticed the rather untidy pie he’d left on top of his pillow but had decided to say nothing about it.

“Yes,” he nodded, “let’s go please.”

If Damian had thought the cabin was bad, the corridors that they had to go through made him feel ten times worse. He was sure they must have been heated up to a tropical level to remind the people returning to mainland Europe from the UK that not everywhere was Baltic cold, but now Damian could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck and his legs wobbling underneath him.

“I think if we go this way,” his dad was looking a little confused as he looked at the sign mounted on the wall which stated the shop plaza was straight ahead when clearly there was a solid wall preventing their way. “Perhaps they all use nautical directions on board.”

“Maybe,” Damian agreed, he’d been taking refuge at a tiny porthole window that was letting him see the rather grey wash of the sky outside.

“Come on, let’s go and find them,” his dad coaxed, and Damian practically had to tear himself away. “I bet they’ll be in the shops…” Damian hummed non-committally. He wished he was still back at the window as now he definitely didn’t feel well. Inside him his stomach was making little swishing movements that he felt sure would correlate to the motion of the ship. “Although I bet Emilia has found the food hall…” The mention of food made Damian’s stomach do a strange kind of tumble, and he had to bite back the urge to burp that was rising in his throat. He hadn’t realised he’d stopped in the corridor with his hand supporting him on the wall until he felt his dad’s hand squeeze gently at his shoulder.

“Damo? Are you feeling ill?” He asked gently; Damian started to nod but was cut short by a weak gag forcing up his throat and he clapped his hand across his mouth. “Alright son, let’s get some fresh air.” Damian felt his dad’s strong hand take his, and for a few seconds the grip made him feel secure – knowing that his dad was going to lead him to safety. Then his stomach squeezed again and he fought hard against a heave.

The first blast of cold salty sea air stung at Damian’s eyes and airways; the wind fiercer than he’d expected as he climbed the metal staircase up towards the deck. His stomach had frozen into a solid lump inside him as the chilly wind whipped around them. His dad was still holding firmly onto him as he steered him towards the outer edge of the deck.

“Hold on here,” his dad released his hand to wrap it round the railing, then pointed out across the water, “and focus your eye right on the horizon.”

“Okay,” Damian did as he was told, his sweaty hands slipping on the cold rail.

“I’m going to let your mum know where we are,” he told Damian, “you just hang on there and take deep breaths.”

If this was what seasickness felt like, Damian could understand why people spoke of it with such distinct dread. Every time he felt like his stomach had settled a little, a movement from under his feet sent it roiling inside him again.

 “How’re you feeling now?” His dad returned to the railing; Damian turned to look at him then felt the swooshing discomfort through his whole body as he took his gaze away from the horizon.

 “Nauseous,” Damian answered honestly, affixing his eyes on the horizon again.

 “It sometimes takes just a little while to get your sea legs,” he tried to make a joke out of it, but Damian wasn’t feeling much like laughing. Those few brief seconds that he’d looked away had caused to go into full scale rebellion again, and his mouth felt overly watery.

“What ‘bout my sea stomach?” Damian spat over the edge of the railing and ignored the look of reprimand that followed.

“You just have to acclimatise a bit,” he rested his big hand onto Damian’s shoulder and gave a small chuckle.

“I don’t feel like I’m settling at all…” He groaned, moving one of his hands to his belly.

“Give it time,” he said calmly, but Damian’s stomach felt like the water down below – crashing and swirling.

Hrrruuuuub!!” The retch hit Damian hard and he doubled forward, his stomach banging painfully against the rail.

“Or maybe not…” His dad muttered as Damian sucked great gasps of air in to try and prevent actually being sick.

“Mum, mum! I found them, they’re here!” Emilia’s voice cut through the wind and Damian groaned as he heard it.

“Oh no, dad, I don’t want them to see me,” Damian petitioned, trying to swallow down his nausea as he clung onto the rail.

“Don’t worry,” his dad reassured, “I think your mum has warned them that you’re not feeling well…” This assurance didn’t make Damian feel any better, especially not as he sensed someone standing to the other side of him at the railing.

“How’s he bearing up?” He heard his mum ask over the rush of the wind.

“You look positively green Damo,” Jude’s voice came quietly from beside him, and he chanced a glance to his left to see his younger brother staring nervously at him.

“I don’t think – I like – boats,” he replied, swallowing fiercely.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay,” Jude told him calmly, and Damian appreciated that his brother was trying to make him feel even a little better.

Out in the open water Damian watched as a seagull landed on the water’s surface, looking quite at ease as the waves buffeted it whichever way they desired. As he watched it he felt like he was being buffeted about from the inside. He leant forward over the rail, opening his mouth to let a thin trickle of spit drip from his mouth, feeling so lousy that he honestly did not care what he looked like.

“Maybe you should go back inside with Emilia and Jude?” His dad was suggesting to his mum. “It looks like we might be here for a little while yet…”

“Come on guys,” their mum encouraged, but Jude didn’t move from next to Damian.

“I’m staying,” he said, almost petulantly.

“Suit yourself,” she replied, “come on Emilia.”

“But I wanna see Damo puke his guts out too!” Emilia’s voice whined, but got fainter as their mum led her away. Damian’s stomach was doing tumble turns inside him, and he was praying that he wouldn’t puke his guts out.

Biiikkkrrrrr!” Damian heaved again, feeling his stomach squeezing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jude jumped back in alarm, obviously not anticipated the ferocity of Damian’s retch. “You should’ve – gone – with mum…” Damian’s voice was thick as he hung over the railing – waiting on the inevitable.

“I wanted to stay with you,” Jude replied, and there was an audible tremble in his voice. “You would if it was me.”

Uuurrrnnngggh…” Damian groaned, but he knew Jude was right.

“You’re doing fine Damian,” his dad encouraged. “Just keep taking deep breaths and looking at the horizon.”

“It’s not gonna – work,” Damian mumbled, swallowing back a mouthful of hot, sticky saliva.

“If you think you need to be sick, let it happen,” his dad’s voice was calm, but Damian felt anything but calm.

“I’m gonna – bruuuuuhhuuuurrr!” Damian barrelled forward over the rail, a splash of acid hitting the back of his mouth. Underneath him, his knees gave way and his dad’s strong hands gripped his arms to hold him upright.

“Okay son, I’ve got you, don’t worry!” His dad said, Damian closed his eyes, able to feel the start of another retch working up from his chest.

“How can I help?” Jude’s panicked voice squeaked.

“Here, you gently rub or pat Damian’s back,” his dad advised, and Damian was aware of a gentle pressure in the small of his back which began to rub along his spine. “That’s it!”

Damian’s eyes snapped open as that last bit of pressure forced liquid up his throat:

Huuuuueeeerrrruuuulllllggghhh!” His breakfast, and the burger and milkshake he’d eaten at the service station, left him in a gush and fell sickeningly into the ocean below. “Hbbbluuuuuh!” Jude was still patting back and Damian’s eyes stung as the acid burnt his throat. He was still able to distinguish the dairy taste from the banana milkshake he’d had earlier, and that made him retch harder, bringing up another wave of puke.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you…” His dad repeated. “Jude and I are here.”

Hikkkuuurrrfff….” Damian was so weak he sagged against the railing, and a gurgling mouthful of sick hit the edge of the boat and splashed down to their feet. “Bruuuaaap…” The belch that followed was emptier, and the sloshing going on in Damian’s belly was beginning to die down – perhaps because there was nothing left in his belly to slosh about. He took great gasps of air in, forcing back further urges to burp; Jude’s hand was still rubbing across his back, and it felt really nice.

“That’s it bud, deep breaths…” Every breath in that Damian took meant he was one more away from vomiting again.

“You’re going to be fine,” Jude whispered into his big brother’s ear. That nearly made Damian tear up, he managed to straighten himself so his stomach wasn’t pressed awkwardly into the rail.

“How are you feeling now?” His dad asked, relinquishing some of the tightness of his grip as Damian was able to support himself.

Empty…” Damian responded. “Still queasy.”

“I think it might be best for you to have an early night once you’ve had some air,” he suggested.

“But what if I feel sick again?” Damian asked in alarm, concerned about going below deck again.

“I’ll find something to go next to your bed, just in case okay?” He offered.

“Okay,” Damian nodded.

“And I’ll stay with you!” Jude said kindly.

“Thanks Jude,” Damian smiled, “but if I can’t go exploring, I’d rather you did with Emilia – then you can tell me all about it.”

“You sure?” Jude asked uncertainly.

“Positive,” Damian said, giving a weak smile to his brother.

I did the Uzi and the MAC-10, the Beretta should’ve been expected.

This is the Beretta 92FS, one of the most common 9mm Parabellum handguns ever made. It’s the sidearm of a number of police forces and militaries and is a common sight in holsters from Los Angeles to Tokyo. It’s as iconic as the AK, and without the ties to communism. 

The story begins with Beretta, the oldest gun company in the world. How old? Well it began operations with Bartelemeo Beretta who began making barrels for arquebus’s in Venice in 1526. So yeah, that’s almost 500 years. Now to save on text, I’ll skip to the modern era.

During WWII, Beretta was one of the largest armorers of the Italian military, giving them the Beretta 38 Submachine gun and the Beretta M1934-5 pistols. These guns were a common sight in the hands of both Italian troops as well as many different members of the Axis Powers, including Germany and Romania. And unless you live in an alternate universe where they won, the Axis lose and Beretta make even more money as they effectively became the main armorer for the Italian military.

These ranged from the absurdly popular M12 submachine gun, the modified M1 Garand, the BM59 and a number of other designs. However pistol wise, they didn’t make much following the creation of the Beretta M1951. This was a single stack magazine 9mm pistol and the first Beretta gun with a locked breech. It was popular with the Italian military as well as a number of Middle Eastern countries like Iraq and Egypt, who made their own versions, the Iraqi Tariq and the Egyptian Helwan.

However the 1970′s was seeing a shift from single stack to double stack magazines. Guns like the CZ-75 and the older Browning Hi-Power showed the advantage of a double stack magazine. Beretta knew this was a great idea, so they decided to work on a new design. They took the 1951′s look and added a locking block barrel design from the German Walther P38. And fitted with a 15 round magazine, the original Beretta 92 was made.

Now for those who are attentive, you may have noticed this doesn’t look like the 92FS on top, and that’s because this is the original 92. These guns had a frame mounted safety, heel magazine release, steel grips and sad finish. Well that’s because over time and requests, the guns sort of evolved into the 92FS.

The first revision was the 92S, a requirement by a number of law enforcement agencies that saw the frame mounted safety swapped for the now iconic slide mounted safety/decocker. There was then the 92SB, a gun intended for Air Force trials, which saw a firing pin block added and the first gun fitted with a push button magazine release over the heel mounted one.

The biggest change was the 92F, in response to the US Armed Forces pistol trials in 1985. These changes included a redesigned trigger guard, parts modification to make it all 100% interchangeable, modified the grip, hard chroming the bore to make it more chrome resistant and finishing it with a new finish called Bruniton, that made the gun more resistant to wear. And it competed against the SIG-Sauer P226 and beat it narrowly over the Beretta being a cheaper gun. 

And from there, the 92FS became the hottest seller of the 1980′s handgun market. A large amount of police departments bought them, and a shitload of militaries have the 92FS in it somewhere. It was accurate, reliable and big. Like 40 ounces loaded big. It was perfect for those big hands. And with a gun that’s still selling like hotcakes, there’s got to be other versions.

The first versions were newer ones Beretta made to replace the older guns in the US Military, The M9A1, fitted with a front rail, better grip checkering, larger sights and special sand-resistant magazines and is used by the US Military. The M9A3 was also made, with a tan finish, 17 round magazines, bigger front rail, removable sights, straighter grip and other modifications. While the M9A3 didn’t get adopted by the US Military and they keep making programs to replace the M9, knowing how most US Military programs go, the M9 and M9A1 are gonna be the US Army standard for a long time.

Other versions include a number of compact models, ones in other calibers like 9x21 IMI, .40 S&W, the machine pistol 93R, the French PAMAS G1, the Stainless Steel 92FS Inox, the Brazillian Taurus PT92 copy and so many others, the 92FS line is a line that almost beats Glock in the amount of other models.

And with a gun like this, you know damn well it’s a film legend. And courtesy of a man and a movie, the 92FS is a legend.

A little known Hong Kong movie director by the name of John Woo.

John Woo’s Hong Kong action flicks are icons of their time. The Killers, A Better Tomorrow, Hard Boiled and other movies helped launch Woo into fame in the US and with that came the 92F and 92FS. Woo liked both the 92FS and the Taurus copy, the PT92 for their large size and near bottomless magazines. And if that didn’t make the guns popular, there came another movie that helped promote the 92FS series.

Die Hard.

To say this helped make the 92FS even more popular is an understatement. With Beretta’s product both common on the movie poster and the sidearm of Bruce Willis’s character John McClaine. Every scene you see him in, you see the 92F. And if that didn’t settle it, it’s use in other 80′s and 90′s film classics did.

From the holsters of US soldiers in Iraq to the megaslums of Detroit, the 92FS is a very common sight. It’ very large, in a very common caliber for movie armorers and is big and iconic. It got it’s first appearances in Lethal Weapon, Die Hard and Miami Vice and has showed no sights of stopping. When you need a villain or a hero to have an iconic and big gun, no gun is as fitting as the 92FS.

And with a filmography that makes Clint Eastwood look short, comes a fame in video games. And the 92FS’s first couple of video game appearances were with a series famous in the 1990′s and now.

Doom.

Yes, just like in movies, the 92FS got a start off with one of the most iconic FPS games ever made. In the digitized toy gun arsenal for Doom, one was a water pistol shaped like a 92FS painted black. With that and it’s use in film, the 92FS has been as common in video games as it is in movie. From the noir of Max Payne to the tactical combat of Project Reality and Squad, the 92FS or one of it’s models shows up in some way.

That’s not even half of the images I could pull for the 92FS and it’s variants, but it’s a great example of how common this gun is. The 92FS is a common handgun, as iconic as the AK and while it’s almost 30 years old, shows no sign of slowing down in popularity. And while more modern designs show up and usurp it, it’s still one of the most produced handguns ever made.

It’s a part of film. The grainy effect, a cop with nothing to lose, two Beretta’s with infinite ammo, and a desire for vengeance. Or if you’re filming your magnum opus and you need something striking.

Great Combat Revolvers: III: Smith & Wesson M&P R8

8 rounds and a tactical rail. If a SWAT team were to use revolvers, this would be the one.

edit: Some rebloggers have explained that the revolver is intended to be used by the point man or shield carrier on a SWAT team, because a semiauto’s slide can hang up on the edge of the shield or a door frame. Fantastic!

the ballad of monty and carolyn

SO i got a bunch of responses asking for more of TBL and i swear to youuu i am working on it, and i feel terrible that it’s taking so long, so iN THE MEANTIME i wrote this quick little relationship/character sketch that about two side characters (haha…..haaaa?) FALLING IN LOVE, because of COURSE i felt it was time well spent to delve into the beginnings of a relationship that happens entirely offscreen. of course i did!! 

anyway, here’s the story of how pat’s landlord/team dad monty fell in love with a woman who fucking hates sports.

Carolyn is late to their first date, and their second, and their third, and doesn’t even show up to their fourth because “some entitled infant tried to But I’m Paying Your Salary me in order to get a higher grade, as if he gets points for trying, I know we’re the arts but we’re not a fucking charity, anyway I’m in no mood to talk to you or anybody so I am going to go home and watch Netflix and I’ll call you when I don’t hate everybody in the fucking world.

For their fifth date, she’s right on time.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Helloo! I want to request hc where mc from kbtbb suicide and the guys feeling guilty cause they think it is their fault?

Here goessss!!! TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE!

Eisuke: He stood in the doorway to the bathroom shocked and stunned still, He was looking at a bath of crimson and in the middle a pale and lifeless figure, you. The only thing he could see was from your collar bones upwards and the arm draped over the side with fresh blood dripping from the deep wound that adorned your wrist. Your head drooped to one side your eyes still open but dead and giving no ounce of life to him, no hope that you could be saved. He slowly made his way over to you, he stroked a stray piece of hair from your face and cupped your cold cheeks with his warm hands, then it hit him, the iciness of your face, he took it all in. you were really gone. He began to sob and his arms grabbed you and pulled on your lifeless corpse he hauled you out of the bath and sat in the pool of blood that had began to congeal on the floor, your body half in and half out of the bath, he choked and sobbed loudly into your shoulder. “NOOO!” WHY! WHY ____ PLEASE COME BACK!” WHY DID YOU DO THIS!! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME COME BACK! PLEASE!” His sobs didn’t go unheard and his old friend Soryu began to run to the sounds of distress he was screaming now. Soryu made it to the bathroom and saw his friend cradling your body, the blood staining his suit and face, the shock on his face was easy to see. He made his way over and tried to make him let you go. “NO! I CAN’T LEAVE HER HEAR LIKE THIS!” Eisuke tried to fight against him but was soon overpowered and dragged from you, as he let you go and he watched you sink back into the bath of your own blood. His eyes watched as you disappeared and Soryu sat him on the bed in the next room and began to call the police. He came back in holding a small piece of paper, he silently handed it to Eisuke in your handwriting it simply said. ‘I’m sorry’ He held it tightly and tears rolled down his stained cheeks. “Its all my fault.” He whispered. Soryu placed his hand on his shoulder silently, not knowing what to say, there was nothing he could say. He watched his friedn unravel in front of him and all he could do was be there. 


Soryu: He was running frantic now, he couldn’t find you, the panic was overtaking him, the fear he felt at not being bale to find you was consuming his entire being. You had ran away after learning of the death of your parents and younger brother, who had been in a car Soryu got them and the breaks failed, you were heartbroken and ran. now alone and probably scared Soryu had to find you. Then he saw  your shadow in the distance at the cliff top, just stood as the breeze took your hair on a whirlwind ride. He breathed a sigh of relief as he had found you, he made his way over to you, you heard him coming and snapped your head around to face him, “Soryu.” He heard you whisper. he stopped and stared at your face, eyes red and swollen from crying, your voice horse from the choking sobs. Nose dry from sniffling. “___, its all going to be ok, i promise.” Soryu said quietly closing the distance between the two of you. He could see you were distraught with grief, he knew you weren’t yourself right now and he wanted to be there for you, for as long as you needed he was going to be by your side. “I have nothing, i have lost everything.” You said looking down. “You have me.” Soryu said reaching you. “I have nothing left.” You say tears falling from your eyes. “What do i do now?” You ask him and he doesn’t have an answer. he hugs you loosely and kisses your head. “I promise you will never be alone, come on lets go home.” He says and steps away from you his hand holding yours, he steps away but you don’t follow and your hand falls back to your side. “____?” He says questioningly. “I’m sorry.” You say through quiet sobs. and with that you take a step back, plunging to your death. “NO!” Soryu throws himself forward but he isn’t quick enough, he falls to his knees and lays down and looks over the edge just in time to see your body make impact with the crashing waves below. His eyes widen in horror and silent tears fall, he lays there not knowing what to do, you were gone and to him it was all because of him. He was the reason you did this and he wouldn’t never forgive himself. 


Baba: “Princess!” He chirps as he enters the home you share together, He had been and bought you flowers he knew you had been feeling down lately and he wanted to cheer you up sop flowers and a nice hot bubble bath it was. But you didn’t respond to his happy greeting, he instantly worried, where were you. He saw a dim light coming from the kitchen and assumed you were there but hadn’t heard him, you were always in your own world when you cooked. He smiled to himself and made his way there, the sight he found would haunt his dreams forever. You laid on the cold tile floor pale and lips blue with an empty pill bottle and half a bottle of vodka on the floor besides you, White foam coming from your mouth with tinges of blood specked in it. Eyes rolled in to the back of your head. He dropped everything he was holding and rushed to your side, he fell to his knees and silently placed his hands on your neck, no pulse. He was shaking and crying, no sound escaped him, he was unable to scream, his entire body in shock. He shook and stared at you for another moment before his functions returned. He grabbed you and pulled you into his lap as he rocked your body back and forth crying in to your lifeless form. “Why why why why….” He repeated this one word over and over to himself for hours as he held you, he felt you go cold and decided it was time to let you go and call for help, he picked up his phone and the first person he called was Ota, when the artist couldn’t get any full sentences from his friend he hung up and made his way over as fast as he could. He walked in on Baba clutching onto your lifeless, cold, stiff body and gasped in shock. what had happened? he took in his surroundings and pieced the puzzle together himself, his friend a silent mess on the floor staring into space he called the ambulance and made his way over. Baba stared at him as he sat besides him. “This is my fault, i didn’t make her smile enough, and now i will never see her smile again.” Ota looked at his friend through sad eyes and let him rest his head on his shoulder as he cried. 


Ota: It had been one hell of a day, He couldn’t wait to get home to you and snuggle and do nothing for the rest of the night, He remembered how you had been suffering from slight depression lately and nothing seemed to cheer you up like chocolates and so he stopped off to buy some before heading home. When he got home the door was locked, which was weird. were you not home? He let himself in and turned around to lock the door behind him, then he headed into he house. The sight in front of him was terrifying, there you were hung from the marble stair case in the foyer of the home you shared together, a makeshift noose made from silk bed sheets wrapped tightly around your neck. “____!” He yelled upwards towards your body. He ran up the stairs to wear the bed sheets were tied round the railings, if you were still alive he couldn’t just drop you down the fall would kill you, so he began to drag you upwards but from the weight and lack of struggle he knew he was to late to save you. With each pull of the sheets you got closer to him and he became more and more frantic, he knew he was to late and was sobbing loudly by the time he had you in his arms. He sat on the floor with you laying in his arms, he brushed the hair from your face and kissed your cheeks, removing the bed sheets, he stroked the bruises that had formed and stained your beautiful neck. “What do i do now huh? Koro? where do i go from here? How do i go on with out you?” He asked you these questions knowing he would never get an answer. “Just please, tell me why?” He sobbed, still nothing. He stroked your face and played with your hair as he sat rocking your body. He took out his phone and dialed for the police, he sat with you until they arrived, he didn’t want to let you go but he knew he had too. He would never hold you again, never heard your laugh, never see your smile. “Why didn’t i see this coming, this is my fault for not paying enough attention to how you were feeling.” He said to you as they zipped up the body bag and took you away from him. 


Mamoru: He saw you on the street just up ahead of him, you were making your way home, he smiled at you and watched you walk, he loved to see you walk from behind, so instead of spoiling his view he stayed behind you every step of the way and enjoyed his walk home. You entered the apartment building just before him and got in the lift to the 4th floor, he missed it and so waited for the next one, he couldn’t wait to get home and talk to you about his day, You had been down a lot lately and he loved trying to cheer you up. When he reached the 4th floor he stepped of the lift and that’s when he heard it BANG! A gunshot coming from the direction of the flat you shared. He ran as fast as his legs could possibly take him and stormed in through the door baring his own weapon, that’s when he saw it, your body on the floor limp and lifeless with blood seeping from your temple. a glock in your right hand, there was no one else here, you had done this to yourself. Mamoru threw himself down by your side and with shaking hands grabbed your body and brought you closer to him crying into our chest holding tightly on to your body, he could feel the heat coming from you die down as you began to go cold in his arms. “No sweetheart please no don’t die, don’t leave me here alone. please, say this is a joke. please please.” He begged you over and over, but to no avail, you were gone, nothing more than a corpse in his arms. he sat holding you on his knees for what felt like an eternity before he placed a call to the precinct where he worked. He hung up and cried into you again. “If only i hadn’t wanted to watch you walk home, if only i had caught up to you then this wouldn’t have happened i could have stopped this and heard you voice one more time, seen your eyes#, this is my fault, mine, and no one else s.” He sobbed again, until they arrived ans you were taken away from him forever. 


There we gooooo!!! Love Coral. xxx

2

I’ve decided to upgrade one of my tactical .22’s. I purchased the Smith & Wesson 15-22 when it first came out a few years ago & fell in love it.

Some of the first runs were plagued with ejection issues but was an easy fix with the ejector. Once I bent it inward for it to catch the lip of the casing it was flawless.

Shooting it with pin point accuracy from its Thompson Center Barrel.

It had many great features:

AR similar take-down(unlike the Umarex Colt branded rimfires).
Very accurate
Lightweight polymer upper & lower
Removable fixed AR styled sights
Full quad picatinny rail
25 round mag with after market mags available(up to 50 rounds)
Standard AR buffer tube and pistol grip

With the newer model that is starting to become easier to find now, comes with Magpul furniture.

MOE pistol grip, stock, flip-up sights, threaded barrel with flash suppressor, QD sling attachment points, and the option of FDE or black Magpul furniture.

Detailed pictures to come when it arrives!

Stay tuned!

-Matt