Ah, Enterprise. I assume you’re taking about USS Enterprise, CV-6 or CVN-65? If so, there is a lot of reasons. The first one: Enterprise is a name that has been in the U.S. Navy for centuries, with nine ships (including the soon-to-be-built CVN-80) having used the name. It’s been in the Royal Navy since the early 1700s, with fifteen ships named Enterprise or Enterprize.
Second: USS Enterprise (CV-6) was the most highly decorated carrier of WWII. She participated in every major fleet action except for two, earning twenty battle stars. She sank or damaged 263 ships, and downed 911 planes. From December 7, 1941, to May 14, 1945 - when a kamikaze blew one of her elevators hundreds of meters sky high - she fought in WWII.
At one point in the Pacific, when Lexington, Wasp, Yorktown, and Hornet were sunk, and Saratoga damaged, she was the only U.S. carrier remaining in the entire Pacific. Whole war strategies depended on CV-6’s survival and strength, Enterprise vs. Japan. After the war, she languished until 1958 when she was scrapped. Admiral Halsey had been leading an effort to save her by turning her into a museum ship, but he was unable to raise enough money.
Third: USS Enterprise (CVN-65) was the first nuclear-powered ship, not to mention aircraft carrier, in the world. She ushered in the nuclear age for the navies of the world, and was the longest ship in the world. She was decommissioned in 2013, ending 51 years of service.
Fourth: Enterprise (OV-101), the space shuttle.
Originally to be named Constitution and rolled out on Constitution Day, thousands of letters to the White House convinced president Gerald Ford to name her Enterprise, after the ship from Star Trek. Speaking of Star Trek…
Fifth: USS Enterprise (XCV-330, NX-01) NCC-1701/A/B/C/D/E/J) plus ISS Enterprise (NX-01, NCC-1701). Originally supposed to be named after USS Yorktown (CV-5), she was renamed to Enterprise. Since then, Star Trek and therefore Enterprise has become one of the most famous scifi series to ever play on television. Amusingly, NCC-1701 is a Constitution-class vessel, just like how OV-101 was supposed to be named Constitution.
Sixth: Enterprise, Rent-A-Car. This company that you may or may not have rented a car from in this past was founded by WWII veterans.
You’re delivering a baby when your phone goes off. Gowned up, helping a mom usher life into the world.
You ignore it-priorities. Baby delivered, mother okay, finish rounding on patients, back to your attending’s office, high spirits, cheesing about a morning doing what you love.
You finally take a glance at what blew up your phone.
It’s the guy you were almost engaged to, who you haven’t heard from in months after a major argument on being outspoken+pursuing your passions that ended the engagement. He got angry that you didn’t respond right away-you were delivering a baby.
He’s gone absolutely off. You’re staring at your phone, incredulous, because he must’ve been drunk to have messaged you months later to say he’s upset you haven’t contacted him, well because, you-ambition+outspoken+passionate-just didn’t fit. You’re incredulous because while he was going off you were doing something incredible-you were helping usher life into the world. Imagine the perspective.
God answered your prayers, got your back, pulled you from detriment. Alhamdulillah.
This is a topic I never thought, nor desired, to write, but ultimately decided needed honesty and to be shared-
You are a woman. You carry the world on your shoulders without batting an eyelash. You raise generations, become mothers that turn boys into men, systemically get suffocated but always manage to breathe. You deserve someone who respects you, brings you joy, who’s excited to hear about your day, who you’ll confide in, who will offer sound advice and doesn’t always agree with you but does so in a way that makes you explore new thoughts, ideas, perspectives. You don’t need someone feeling threatened/intimidated to the point he doesn’t trust you/tries to destroy your self-esteem, so blinded by pride he can’t even see you.
You are a woman. You carry the world on your shoulders without batting an eyelash. You raise generations, become mothers that turn boys into men, systemically get suffocated but always manage to breathe.
You are resilient. You persist.
Don’t settle for a person who doesn’t complement you in every way, doesn’t allow you to shine, grow, flourish. You are worth much more.
That is written.
I was born with the devil in me. I could not help the fact that I was a murderer, no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing… I was born with the evil one standing as my sponsor beside the bed where I was ushered into the world, and he has been with me since.
H.H. Holmes Holmes was one of the first documented American serial killers. He built a murderous hotel he could lure unknowing victims to before killing them and hiding their bodies in the many unknown rooms and entrances throughout the hotel. Holmes confessed to 27 murders but some believe his body count may be as high as 200.
I will not lie To you
That l was born under a tree or in a coffee plantation,
Just to sound poetic or artistic… N0!
l was born in a clinic
Somewhere just outside the chief’s office in my Slum.
The smell of the black overflowing sewer
Ushered me into this world…
This is the picture life gave me
When l became a prisoner here…
As my mother took a nap
The Young Man who owned me held me in his arms
He wasnt really happy that it was a girl
He would have wished it was a boy
not because boys were better than girls
But because his fellow tribesmen believed
Boys had lesser costs!
He still held me anyway
Later taking me home.
Thats When my prison life in this cell began…
He wasnt anything close to what most girls my age had
He would buy himself a bottle or two going for about 480/- shillings
due to a Ksh 500/- note given,
With a twenty shilling coin balance
He bought me grapes
He would later in the night
wake me up and remind me that he loved me…
And that alot of kids would wish their fathers bought them grapes.
I had to believe this!
He was so against me putting on dresses Or anything girly.
From the very start
He wanted a boy
A girl was what he got.
My father taught me how to fight
He would make me watch all mike Tyson and muhammad ali’s episodes of boxing
I knew them by heart
He would later send me to the bathroom for a cold bath
And expect me to come out shirtless for inspection…
Later in the night
He made me watch alot of Adolf Hitler, Osama bin Laden, biafra wars, not forget
Not forgeting…Moshe Dayan.
you will all ask where my mother was… Well my mother used to work on a night shift
So as l was in school she was at home
But when i came back in the evening she had left for work
though my father was there…
so for me,
My father was my mother too…
He was a strict disciplinarian
He had three bamboo sticks
Of different sizes under his bed just for me
Each was used depending on the weight of the mistake…
He would discipline me
And lf l dared cry,
He would shout “Wanaume hawaliangi Qui” -(men dont cry Qui)
this for me was nothing new
I had heard it since childhood…
My father made sure l dressed like a man
In combat side pocket trousers, Adidas shirt and some police like boots
he would however not give me a sweater
Men were expected to brave the cold…
He would not stand me eating sweets
That was done by stupid girls
I always had my hair cut-Short
I was expected to play football with the boys…
So l grew up as a boy…
and my Father… Was proud of me.
He would enjoy seing me rap like E-sir and loved reading the compostions and poetry l wrote about the worlds history and his favourite… Muhhamad Ali…
But with time,
I grew up
And biology failed to please my father
My chest was now bulging out
My hips took shape
At around ten years of age
The boys would find it amusing
I couldnt bare putting my hands on my chest to hide this two animals any longer
The boy my father knew was now gone…
He got bored…
I have seen him once since then
but if I get a chance to see him… Again
I will ask for grapes…
I am sure he will be
Sad l did not become a doctor
And l will explain
That when doctors try to save lives
I (being a poet) touch hearts and give life a meaning…
I will tell him that I in the long run chose poetry…
And that though the many boxing lessons…
I chose to #punch_lines…
Can't help but think that Percy hit his big growth spurt after the Briarwoods, and the first image of her brother Cassandra sees after five years is this tall billowing smoke specter
(i mean, timeline-wise, Percy would have made it through puberty by then and was already on his way to being a giant, but for argument’s sake and as the sister of a 6′4″ jerkface…)
Cassandra is still only just conscious enough to hear Anders say “Percy” in the sort of disbelieving tone that should be reserved for ghostly apparitions. When she looks, it seems as though that’s what he is - a being not wholly of this world, ushered in like a vengeful spirit with black smoke curling from his sleeves and about his feet, taller and darker than Cassandra remembers, even with the shock of snow-white hair. It only serves to emphasize the darkness wreathing him as Percival takes the room. For a moment, Cassandra is certain he is only a spirit. It’s impossible to think this imposing figure - taller than their father once was, pale as a ghost, alight with deadly fire and trailing ashy smoke in his wake - could be her brother. But then he takes a shot, or tries to, and the gun jams. His familiar blue eyes (possibly the only truly recognisable part of him) go wide and his brows furrow in frustration. The inarticulate cry he lets out is echoing and strange, but the underlying sound of it is all Percy. Cassandra remembers that helplessly annoyed shout from when his contraptions broke or failed and Percy couldn’t do a damn thing but start over. The relief of familiarity is short-lived, as Cassandra is yanked around a few seconds later by a suddenly-appearing vine to be met with an awkward redhead (and tall, why are they all so tall?) stuttering out a hello. Percy fixes the gun after that, ducking around the enchanted armor and stupidly pushing his hand into its face, and yes, that is indeed her idiot older brother who overthinks and doesn’t think, but nothing in between. A few extra inches and an unsettling habit of leaking smoke from his clothing won’t change that. It won’t change the fact that he’s both alive and five years late.
Eons ago, there was Harmony, who was strict but kind, and Chaos, who was reckless but passionate, and the being who brought them equilibrium was Balance, who was poised but untroubled. Together, the three reigned over their domains and watched over the lesser gods, bringing the ultimate form of stability to their world.
But what came to be known as the Great Collapse brought their reign to an end and ushered in a new world. The lands became water and the water lands, the sick healed and the corrupted perished. Raw arcane energy had sewn itself into every inch of earth and every cell of every living creature it touched. This Rebuilding of the material plane happened over one million years ago, and any signs of the old world has long since been lost.
For as long as you can remember, your world has always been the same; peaceful, harmonious, and united by one goal: the endless, insatiable search for knowledge and power. The old gods sleep below the surface of the earth, lying dormant as the new gods walk the land. Nowadays, it truly is hard to discern whether one is mortal or not by just a glance.
the world of iridius is almost completely inhabited by aasimar, tieflings, and genasi. they make up a rough 70% of the world’s population
the only continent in the northern hemisphere is covered almost entirely in the clover ring, a forest where the normal laws of magic and reality start to bend into odd shapes
in the heart of the clover ring, is the tree of life. essentially, this tree is known to be the soul thing keeping the world safe. if it were to die and its powers fade, the raw magic energy of the world would become radioactive, poisoning everyone
those who study magic put themselves at risk of arcanic radiation. the strongest magic wielders can sense the raw magic in the air. its like a faint buzzing.
the tree of life is widely acknowledged of its power. everyone in the world know that they depend on it, save for a strange cult in the southeast who reject iridius and wish to return it to its water-filled state before the grand collapse
potable water is actually a large issue, because only 30% of the world is made of water, and only 6% of it is fresh. because of this, it isnt unusual for one if not more people in a single household to always have a water spell on hand
the clover ring is alive. and it needs to be looked after. it chooses who looks after it. this is the clover ring court. the clover ring court is spread out throughout the clover ring, but a select few cabinets go any further into the large forests past the third ring
their are four rings in the clover ring forest, and the fourth is where the tree of life is found.
the clover ring has a prince, who acts as an ambassador to the world beyond. the prince is birthed from the tree of life and imbued with some of its life force. if the prince travels too far away from the clover ring, he grows weak and so does his connection with the tree of life
there is no feywild, and there is no shadowfell. instead, there is a plane known as the luminesce. it is quite a strange place.
think about any rare creature in the monster manual. its probably in the clover ring. in fact theres probably four of them.
the clover ring is dangerous to outsiders, but it can also choose to protect them
one of the reasons the clover ring is so dangerous is because the arcanic radiation there is very high, because the tree of life brings the radiation towards it to filter out the energy into something that syncs up with the magic within the bodies of living creatures
the biology of living creatures on iridius is Whack
encounter type: “potential bears”. before the bears act or the players act someone had to roll to determine whether the bears exist or not.
What happened after the true ending of NieR: Automata (MAJOR ENDGAME SPOILERS)
Well, I got through the entirety of Automata’s story last night and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, so here’s what I believe happened after the final scene.
*2B and 9S were reactivated shortly after the Pods completed repairs on them. Both of them were unspeakably happy to see each other again and spent the next few hours hugging on the rooftop they woke up on. A2 woke up not too long afterward and returned to the Resistance camp, where she was filled in on what happened.
*Pascal’s pacifist nature did not remain dormant for long and he soon led a new generation of peace-loving machines into a golden era, eventually ushering in world peace between all machines and androids.
*What remained of the Tower and what could be salvaged of the Bunker was turned into a memorial for those that fell in the war, under the supervision of Anemone.
*Androids and machines alike fully restored the amusement park to its former, humanity-era glory, using the remains of Ko-Shi and Ro-Shi to make new attractions.
*2B and 9S, in a world with no war or YoRHa, were able to move past the truth of 2B’s designation and entered a relationship not long after reactivation. They go on lots of cute dates and do filthy things like hold hands and refer to each other by affectionate nicknames (and yes, she does call him “Nines” now). Big sister A2 is always watching to ensure this peace continues.
*Speaking of A2, without YoRHa around to chase her and with the truth about the war revealed, she was able to forgive herself. She became close with many members of the Resistance and eventually fell in love with Aneome.
*Devola and Popola were able to be salvaged, repaired, and reactivated, becoming ambassadors of the androids to the machine’s societies, working to atone for their failure to prevent the first end of the world.
*Simone was returned to her original state and learned to love herself.
*No one heard from Jean Paul ever again.
*Jackass, without anyone to take revenge on as she had planned, trained a moose and now rides it like a horse.
*042 and 153, in the constant state of embarrassment that is life, were not able to face the androids again and decided to observe them from afar, content that they had given them a chance at a real life.
And you can’t tell me that none of this happened, I’m the God, I’M THE GOD
I was born with the devil in me.
I could not help the fact that I was a murderer, no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing…
I was born with the evil one standing as my sponsor beside the bed where I was ushered into the world, and he has been with me since.
H.H. Holmes, one of the first documented serial killers
I was born with the devil in me. I could not help the fact that I was a murderer, no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing — I was born with the ‘Evil One’ standing as my sponsor beside the bed where I was ushered into the world, and he has been with me since.
“Well, if an occasion ever called for a cigarette this would be it,” a familiar voice, amused and lilting, startles him out of his frantic search.
Patrick whirls around like a child caught out with a piece of illicit candy. The brief respite caused by the identity of the speaker is just that – brief. Trixie smiles, folding her arms under her chest.
“What else would you be furiously rummaging through a filing cabinet for at a moment like this? Files?” she teases in a way that isn’t quite teasing, just an attempt at lightening the mood. As if prepared for this specific instance, she reaches into the pocket of her cardigan, extracting a pack and a lighter. “Here, I’ve got one. Unless you find Pall Malls offensive.”
H.H Holmes (completely unique in that he built his notorious Murder Castle where he apparently did in his victims)
“I was born with the devil in me. I could not help the fact that I was a murderer, no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing..I was born with the evil one standing as my sponsor beside the bed where I was ushered into the world, and he has been with me since.”
Please imagine that after Leonard McCoy euthanizes his father the medical board discovers his actions and he loses his license.
Two days later, they discover the cure for his father’s illness.
He thought he would be able to handle losing his license. He thought he would at least be able to look back on it and know that he did the right thing. That he did what his father would have wanted. But as he sits there with the news of the cure heavy in his hands, he panics. He throws himself into a bottle and doesn’t come out for a long, long time.
By the time he rears his head again the losses have piled up. First, his mother cuts him out of her life. Then his wife. Then his daughter. And finally, he loses Earth. He has nothing left and so he leaves.
He’s always hated space. It’s too big and too dangerous and too damn unpredictable. But, he’s also always had the backup plan of joining Starfleet. They’re always on the lookout for good doctors–problem is, he’s no longer a good doctor.
But he needs to be.
Doctoring is in his blood. He looks at broken bodies and sees the ways he can heal them. When others hurt he hurts as well. His fingers itch to help. And so, after bouncing from planet to planet for a few years he finally finds one that won’t ask too many questions. This planet is newly colonized and lightyears away from any place half-ways civilized. It’s small and dark and the people can barely keep the lights on and the water running. They need a doctor, badly.
They’re even willing to take on a doctor with a shady-looking license.
He digs in and starts to do some real good work. He fixes broken bones and torn flesh and brings new people into the world and ushers out a few who didn’t make it. He’s fearful when he loses a patient: both for them and for himself. It sends him back to the bad place. The place of drinking and long stretches of lost time. He doesn’t like that place.
He prefers people alive. For many reasons.
He’s just about gotten complacent with his new life when Starfleet’s flagship rolls up to check out the place. Make sure the colonists are getting along just fine. They beam down a small complement with the Captain strutting all around the place and the first officer, Spock, watching him far too closely for his liking. Kirk doesn’t seem to find anything wrong, but McCoy doesn’t miss the way Spock studies him.
(Nor does he miss the fact that Spock has never once called him “Doctor.”)
He catches Spock digging through his old medical records, with his forged license in one hand and a datapadd of all the evidence against him in the other. It’s obvious Spock knows him for the fraud he is.
I was born with the devil in me. I could not help the fact that I was a murderer, no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing..I was born with the evil one standing as my sponsor beside the bed where I was ushered into the world, and he has been with me since.