And are there any great books on this?

Context 1: Barely anything is known about the Dark Age of Technology (DaOT), and one of the biggest mysteries of the setting revolve around the mysterious Men of Materials: Gold, Stone, and Iron. While we know that the Men of Iron are true AI, such as UR-025, Tabula Myriad, etc, who could probably just download themselves into available chassises at any moment, not much is known about the Men of Stone or Gold.

Context 2: The descriptions of Kron in this short story confirm what we do know about the Men of Stone, and his existence has major ramifications regarding foundational aspects of the lore.

To begin this discussion, we need to clarify just what we actually know about the Men of Materials. While not explicitly stated in any novels or codex, Laurie Golding, an accredited BL author and editor of multiple publications, states that the original vision for the Men of Materials was to have them as three separate transhuman races. Specifically, Alan Meritt, one of the original authors of GW who was with them since the days of Rogue Trader, stated that the Men of Iron were the Machines, the Men of Gold were a genetically engineered master race that came about through selective breeding, while the Men of Stone were a cyborg intelligence. In particular, "the "Stone" part refers to silicon, and are likened to the Thirteenth Tribe from Battlestar Galactica, the original cyclons who left Kobol and began their own civilization". While a lot of this is old lore, just a couple years ago we have the first ever, explicitly confirmed existence of a Man of Iron, UR-025. And since the entire concept of the Men of Materials was introduced as a package deal in the 3rd edition rulebook, UR-025's existence hints that GW didn't softly retconn the entire concept, and the concept of all 3 transhuman races, namely Gold, Stone, and Iron, were still on the table for discussion and will be terms that define the DaOT.

While we have an explicit description of the Men of Iron in the lore, we really don't have such confirmation for the Men of Gold or Stone. However, the short story Ancient History, by Andy Chambers actually provides descriptions of a highly unusual individual that altogether, very strongly hints that he is a Man of Stone. To set the stage, Kron is officially a naval bondsman on the Imperial Battleship Retribution. While he is colloquially referred to as an "old h

16: KANDAWIRE

• Kandawire, suddenly caught in the open on the front lines of a battle after her failed attempt to parley with Valdor and convince him to peacefully surrender the Palace, attempts to flee to the relative safety of the ridge.
• She, along with the Thunder Warriors and everyone else present, has been caught completely by surprise by the battlefield debut of ten thousand Astartes, who had remained hidden thanks to the cover of the storm and static emitters.
  • "Thinking back, she should have listened to the warnings her heart had been prompting for a long time. Valdor was no fool. The Emperor, his master, was no fool. The vulnerability of the Palace had always been an illusion, something placed tantalisingly in front of them like bait. And, like the eager simpletons they were, they had snatched at it."
    • This is the first time she has thought of the Emperor as an adversary, never once before this conceding the notion that Valdor's maneuverings were in league with Him. With the reveal of the Astartes, which had been kept secret from the High Lords, she is finally beginning to realize that the Emperor countenanced the purging of the Thunder Legions, and admit the reality of her fear that the Lex Pacifica is nothing more than a paper shield.
• She loses her way amidst the chaos, her movement hindered by her environment suit and generously proportioned body, fully expecting to die any moment, "the air [so full of] las-beams and projectiles that it had seemed impossible for anything to emerge from its heart intact. She panicked, hyperventilating as she saw the hulls of entire tanks ripped apart and squads of soldiers mown down by explosive rounds."

>Only slowly, with mounting disbelief, did she realise the truth. Valdor’s warriors had plenty of opportunity to end her. After a number of miraculous near misses, she finally fell on her knees before one of them, knowing that there was no way he could pass up the chance.
>
>***‘Do it, then!’ she yelled at him, her fists balled in impotent rage. ‘It’s all you know how to do!’***
>
>The warrior glanced coolly at her. He was enormous, close to matching the Thunder Warriors in size. Whereas they were gloriously flamboyant – barbarian kings in bronze and crimson – he had a brutal, mechanistic look to him. All facial details were obscured. *His armour was so dark as to be almost black, with only a few prominent markers – a single ‘I’ on the breast-plate,

Hi! I never post on here but I just noticed something and wanted to share it. Spoiler warning for the short Omni-Ubiquity Net quest that was just released.

I know a few people (Chill with Aster comes to mind) have been theorizing that Scaramouche was created using Onmyoudou. The paper charm magic that was invented by Kamuna Harunosuke and used to make Shiki Taishou. It was theorized because Scaramouche has repeatedly been compared to a “blank sheet of paper” in the past (Shakkei Pavilion description, Husk of Opulent Dreams set). Also because Childe decided to look in the Onmyou Chamber for Scaramouche, so Childe must have thought it had some relation to him.

I’m here to point something out from the new Omni-Ubiquity Net quest, to provide some more proof to this. In the quest, Wakamurasaki explains how the Omni-Ubiquity Net uses the Onmyoudou technique. She says that the net is able to detain the essence of living creatures, and then certain objects can be used as a medium to recreate them.

Wakamurasaki then states that the highest achievement of the Onmyoudou technique is to recreate a human essence. Sounds a lot like how the highest achievement in alchemy is the creation of human life. As soon as she said that, it reminded me of Scaramouche, and further solidified the idea of him being created using Onmyoudou in my mind.

(Wakamurasaki: According to Sango, this technique is able to detain the essence of living creatures before using certain objects as media to recreate the shape of that living being.

Wakamurasaki: She even says that the utmost achievement of such an Onmyoudou technique is to recreate a human essence!)

When we return to Sango, we ask her if it really is possible to recreate a human essence. Sango states that the Omni-Ubiquity Net is not capable of it, but there are records of such an onmyoudou technique existing. She then goes on to say that “any practicum has long disappeared into the mists of time”.

(Sango: Uh, no. That's not possible.

Sango: There are only records of such an onmyoudou technique existing. Any practicum has long disappeared into the mists of time.)

I might be reaching here, but Yae Miko said something similar about the technology used to create Scaramouche and the Shogun.
“That puppet was built with technology that has been lost to time. Perhaps she, as a god, is the only one privy to the knowledge of its origins…”

One last thing that’s definitely me reaching, but I still think is noteworth

New? Start here!

I got your shadowgram, Emily sent, taking to telepathic communication surprisingly easily. How much danger are we in? Where are you?

A shitload of danger, Eve replied. We’re in a shitload of danger. As for where I am… your buddy Lestrad is giving me a guided tour of his brand new secret prison cell. I’m excited to see it.

Godsdamnit, Emily cursed. I specifically instructed him to let me know if you showed up. He probably thinks he’s going above and beyond delivering you already locked up.

Do you wanna free him from that delusion? I’ve got this whole dramatic moment planned that won’t work if I have to break out of jail first.

I’ve already sent someone to talk to him, Emily replied. In the meantime, don’t break out of jail.

Easy words to say for someone who’s not about to be put in jail, Eve sent.

Emily exhaled. Just try and commit as few crimes as possible between now and when I see you, okay? I want to have a chance to throw you in prison myself.

I’ll try, Eve sent, but no promises. I keep imagining the look on Lestrad’s face when I slip his precious enchantments.

Emily shut the connection herself.

“Damn royals and their defenses against telepathy,” Eve muttered to herself. “I had like three more jokes I wanted to tell.”

I think you’ll get your chance soon enough, Lumy replied.

“It’s not the same,” Eve lamented. “They require context.”

No, look. Someone’s coming.

Sure enough, a young page clad in royal colors that he’d outgrown some months ago raced up to Lestrad and stood on his toes to whisper in the minister’s ear. Lestrad cursed.

Their procession came to a halt. “It would seem,” Lestrad said through clenched teeth, “that her majesty has become aware of your presence.”

“Oh, really?” Eve asked, her voice sickeningly sweet. “I wonder how that might’ve happened.”

Lestrad took a deep and tense breath. “It seems the rest of your life rotting in prison will have to wait while the queen satisfies her curiosity. Follow me.”

Eve didn’t even try to stop herself from smiling at Lestrad’s displeasure, playing up the grin to taunt him further with her glee. He angrily twirled on his heel and stomped off down the hall, signaling Eve and his guards to follow.

Follow, they did.

Lestrad practically threw open a pair of grandiose mahogany doors to reveal a wide open chamber bey

“Him.” The Zagrian Prime Minister pointed at a name on the projection screen beyond his desk.

“Him? What do you mean?”, The Broker checked his tablet. “Oh.”

“That one.”, replied the Prime Minister. His claws clicked lazily on his onyx desk.

“Ah. That one. I … uh … don’t think that’s … a match. Or ideal.”, replied The Broker. A bluff he had never known he was making had just been called. He struggled to remember the details his father had imparted to him so many years ago.

The Prime Minister was adamant and leaned forward. “He’s listed. So, I want that one. He’s your most expensive mercenary unit.”. “Well … uh.”, began The Broker. How much did he actually remember about that monster and how much was his imagination filling in the gaps after all this time?

“He’s the one we want. He’s listed. He’s your most expensive asset. WE. WANT. HIM.” The Zagrian pounded his clawed hand on his desk for emphasis.

The Broker was shaken more than he would have ever admitted. “Look. I’m required by my profession to list that … asset but … you don’t want him. Trust me.” He was trying to dig deep but he barely remembered the details about that particular asset. But what he did remember was bad. Very bad.

The Prime Minister would not be dissuaded and gestured with his hands. As if he were explaining to a simpleton. “He costs more than entire regiments you have listed for sale. You’re a mercenary broker. That’s your job. You listed all the various units you represent. We noticed this one was under Miscellaneous. We further …”

“NO!” shouted The Broker. And he was starting to remember the murky details surrounding that particular asset that his father had spoken about so long ago. The Broker composed himself and began again. “Not him. He no longer obeys.”

The Prime Minister was losing his patience and his voice rose. “He is listed under mercenary assets available. There’s no information on him. And he apparently goes by the moniker of …” The Zagrian checked his own tablet. “Murum aries attigit? My translation team says it means no options remaining or something along those lines. And there is an inscription on his stasis chamber from the listing. An abbot is a holy man, correct? Is he religious? He’s only one man. And he’s”

The Broker interrupted, “Not a man. He looks like us. Was born of us. But not a man. He’s”

“For sale.” finished the Prime Minister. An almost predatory sense of self satisfaction oozed throughout the room. The bureaucrats around them stopped wor

“The words, they are easy enough, simple enough for even the youngest and shyest of councilors. Lord Edmyn ensured as much when he founded the council over a century ago.”

Another lecture from Alton Chambers, Steward of Riverrun, his grey mutton-chops bristling as his cheeks raised into a satisfied smile. He had a way of always seeming “satisfied”. Even when he mucked everything up, even when some considered him a disgrace for his frequent forgetfulness, he smiled.

Kermit nodded. The Lord of Riverrun was sitting at the end of the long table: the only table left inside the sparse chambers supposedly meant for his Privy Council. Save for the table and a handful of chairs, the red sandstone room was empty. Years of neglect had seen its furnishings taken elsewhere, to smaller, less important rooms, as the most vital chamber in all the Riverlands had slowly become forgotten.

Even before his age took his mind, my great-grandfather was an imbecile. How had he allowed the authority of the family to decline so drastically? It seemed as though it must’ve been on purpose, for no other reason – even simple slovenliness – seemed adequate enough to explain the complete horrid state of affairs.

“We shall administer a new vow,” Kermit said, finger tapping on a fresh roll of parchment, long lines of ink barely dry. “It harkens back to the vows of Benedict Justman. Back when lords could be counted on for their loyalty and literacy.”

Alton harrumphed. “That is contrary to what your uncle suggested, my lord. And as Lord Solicitor he would know best in matters like these. The… the legalese of contracts and such. The verb—”

“Former Lord Solicitor,” Kermit corrected, quickly losing his patience. “Indeed, it seems my uncle is an expert in only what benefits him at the time. First law, now coin. Come Spring he will be a master of war or the High Septon himself.”

Steward Alton offered no suitable response, his smile now quite clearly forced, and Kermit was satisfied throughly by that fact.

“The entire room will need be refurbished by the end of the week. Have the old curtains, tapestries, and rugs brought in— as well as a few braziers. I wish to discuss these important matters surrounded by color and warmth, not from the inside of my tomb.”

6th Moon, 135 AC, Riverrun, the Chamber of the Privy Council

And so, his words became reality. By the end of the week the cold, dreary and dreadful chamber was restored to its former state of stateliness. An entirely ne

I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.

Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.

Supreme Hive Mother - Heklehellyehlekeh

In her massive, ornate throne room, the Supreme Hive Mother sat in thought. She had spent the last several cycles speaking with historians and archeologists from all species under her control, and several who were captured. The mysteries of the Forbidden, Oppressors, and Uplifters taunted her.

For the Supreme Hive Mother, the mysteries were unacceptable. She was one of the longest lived beings in the galaxy, privy to information that scholars could only dream of, and she was failing to put the pieces of this ancient puzzle together. Puzzles had always come naturally to her, with many of the pieces fitting neatly once the appropriate information was available. This puzzle however, was perplexing and frustrating. With seemingly all the available data at her clawtips, answers still eluded the Supreme Hive Mother.

Looking around at all the holos and what she seemed essential artifacts, the Supreme Hive Mother sighed. Focusing on this ancient puzzle was keeping her attention from her current problems. With her armada under the command of Fleetmaster Rce'tre facing off against the Federation after suffering losses at the hands of the unknown ship, the Supreme Hive Mother felt she should pay closer attention to the here and now.

Switching several of her holos over to fleet operations and military reports, she found a slight sense of relief in the data. Her armada was advancing against the Federation easily, but taking losses at the same time. They'd already taken six outposts along the front, cut off two systems from their FTL lanes, and thousands of Hek'le ships were advancing on a system bordering another major FTL lane which would allow Hek'le fleets to advance deep into the Federation.

A blinking light alerted the Supreme Hive Mother of an incoming transmission. She sighed and composed herself, setting aside several of her holos and clearing her area of artifacts. “What,” she answered shortly.

“Supreme Hive Mother,” greeted Fleetmaster Rce’tre. Since he’d been granted his new life after the supposed execution of his former existence for cowardice, Rce’tre had shown he was an able commander. His battle lines had smashed several Federation fleets and there had been no further sign of the hostile ships which had plagued the Hek’le. “I wished to inform you of your fleet’s progress.”

“Go ahead Fleetmaster.”

“Your armada will be upon Lane IV in only a few cycles. Intelligence reports it is lightly defended, b

January 4th Year 016 Angels Descent (part 1/4)

I took his first step onto the Academy grounds. I was the first human on record ever to attend this illustrious academy of all things magic. I was here ostensibly to become Lord Sloth’s apprentice. Though that did not mean I was welcome.

My first impression of the school was magnificent. It was artistic in all the right ways to inspire awe and reverence in any budding student. My second was how isolating it felt for me. I was glared at from all angles by every race other than my own. Really though, had they not publicised my attendance, I could’ve gone through my education without issue.

So many of the races here looked no different than I did. Everything from Demons to Were beasts, even a few Vampires. Countless humanoids, but no, my master had to announce a human was attending.

“Mongrel”, a silver-haired werewolf snarled as I walked past him. His quip seemed exceedingly witty to the entire crowd as they all burst out into laughter.

“What exactly can a human mage do, eh mongrel?” he added in another quip to another round of laughter. But I paid it no mind, however. I had been an adventurer since I was eight and fought monsters so terrifying they’d make grown men wet themselves. Petty words will do nothing to me.

Walking across the campus, I came to the high danger research building. This was where I would receive my instruction from the greatest living mage of all time. Opening the door, I stepped in only to have a crossbow bolt slam into the door frame right next to my head.

“Wow, you didn’t even flinch”, a cheery voice said from the gloom of the room the bolt was shot from. I hadn’t the heart to admit I froze such that flinching wasn’t possible.

“So you the human, I take it”, the cheery voice continued as she walked into the light. She appeared to be about twelve years old. Though knowing the other races judging on appearance is pointless.

“That I am”, I say, trying to keep my cool. She just snorts derisively.

“Come now, Yuu, don’t bully the boy”, an old haggard voice says from behind me. When did he get there?

“Yes, Master”, Yuu says, lowering her head in respect.

“Now, Alex, I know your time here will be difficult, but I expect great things of my newest apprentice”, my master says with a smile oozing with the knowledge I will be experiencing hell.

“Now Yuu show Alex your latest creation”, Master ordered. Yuu stood to attention, saluted and turned on the light of the dark room she

The November Putsch

On the morning of November 5, 1941, New Orleans was as peaceful as a capital city could be in the midst of a war. Despite the destruction wrought by General MacArthur's bombing campaign, the center of government was relatively intact and men of women of all means made their way through the heart of the city. The weather was cool and mild and that year's hurricanes hadn't touched the American Union State's heartlands. It was, by all reasonable standards, a perfectly pleasant day, until gunfire rang out by around Governor's Mansion and policemen started dropping.

Everyone privy to the plots of William Dudley Pelley died by one means or another in the fall of Birmingham, if not earlier, so exactly what was meant to happen is lost to time, but the events of the day have been exhaustively documented. At 9:15 in the morning, Silvershirts poured out of strategic positions throughout the city, firing on police and soldiers and taking politicians as hostages. Snipers opened fire on the guards around the Governor's mansion while an armored car barreled through the gates. Behind them a mob of Silver Legionnaires charged in. The first wave died as the guards kept their composure and opened fire, keeping strict cohesion. Half the next went down, but the third, coming on the heels of the surviving half that managed to get their shots off, crashed into the guards, overcoming them and forcing a wild, disorderly retreat, while well-armed veterans, wearing the "L" of the Silver Legion piled out of the armored car and filed into the defenseless mansion door. While the Silver Shirt militiamen ran wild through the building, crying out Pelleyite slogans, destroying whatever they found in an orgy of violence and engaging guards and slaughtering servants, the professionals made their way directly towards the President's office, shooting anyone they came across. They knew the layout of the mansion, where guards were stationed, their routines, their skillsets. At 9:32 on the morning of November 5, 1941, Huey Long, President of the American Union State, was shot in his office^(1).

At 10:01 on November 5, 1941 William Dudley Pelley spoke on an emergency frequency to every functioning radio in the American Union State, announcing the formation of the Christian Commonwealth, the final break of White civilization from the dominion of Judeo-Bolshevik financial subterfuge that had bedeviled the United States. He called on all Aryans to rise up and purify the

Do your worst!

They were cooked in Greece.

I'm surprised it hasn't decade.

The Speaker has informed the House that Her Excellency, the Governor General, will arrive at the Senate building on Tuesday, November 23, 2021, at 12:15 p.m., and, when it has been indicated that all is in readiness, will proceed to the chamber of the Senate to formally open the First Session of the 44th Parliament.

Timeline

• Once the Governor General arrives in the Senate, Her Excellency will send the Usher of the Black Rod down Wellington Street to the House of Commons in West Block to request the presence of MPs in the Senate.

• A select group of MPs will then board shuttle buses to head to the Senate Building. Commons Speaker Anthony Rota will meet the Senate at the Bar of the Chamber where he will have a brief ceremonial discussion with Senate Speaker George Furey.

• Governor General Mary May Simon will begin reading the Speech from the Throne at approximately 1:00 PM ET.

• Following the reading of the Throne Speech, MPs head back to the House Chamber to formally begin proceedings, starting with the Prime Minister introducing the pro forma Bill C-1.

• Other standard procedural items take place, including announcing members of the Board of Internal Economy, members of the Standing Committee on Procedure and House Affairs, and the appointment of Deputy Speakers.

• Following this, speeches in reply to the Throne Speech commence. Replies are typically moved, seconded, and given by backbench government MPs (often rookie MPs delivering their maiden speech).

• After replies from the mover and seconder and a brief period for debate, the Leader of the Official Opposition moves to adjourn debate, and the Government House Leader moves to adjourn the House until 2:00 PM ET tomorrow.

Live Streams

• CPAC - YouTube

• Senate ParlVu

• CBC News - YouTube

Resources

• Yesterday's Journals

• Today's Notice Paper

• House of Commons Seating Plan

• [2019 Throne Speech](https://www.canada.ca/en/privy

Don't you know a good pun is its own reword?

Two muffins are in an oven, one muffin looks at the other and says "is it just me, or is it hot in here?"

Then the other muffin says "AHH, TALKING MUFFIN!!!"

For context I'm a Refuse Driver (Garbage man) & today I was on food waste. After I'd tipped I was checking the wagon for any defects when I spotted a lone pea balanced on the lifts.

I said "hey look, an escaPEA"

No one near me but it didn't half make me laugh for a good hour or so!

Edit: I can't believe how much this has blown up. Thank you everyone I've had a blast reading through the replies 😂

It really does, I swear!

Because she wanted to see the task manager.

But that’s comparing apples to oranges

And boy are my arms legs.

Heard they've been doing some shady business.

Part one here.

Part two here.

6: KANDAWIRE

• Kandawire and Armina, her chief aide, are en route to meet Ophar, "hurrying from the inner Council chambers towards the reception suites." The guards on duty attempt to look alert as a High Lord passes by, but they are failing.
  • The security detail on duty in the offices of the High Lords, the highest echelon of civilian government, is made up of non-augmented, undisciplined baseline humans.
• Armina wonders if Valdor cut off the interview in response to Kandawire insulting him, but Kandawire brushes her off, stating that she has been granted another audience.
  • Kandawire is surprised that Valdor, in her estimation, "wants to talk. Imagine that. I thought it would be like drawing blood from a stone," and that even after everything he's accomplished, "he talks like a man without pride."
• Armina expresses doubt as to the necessity of the interviews, "even if you have as many hours as you need. We are already committed. We have been committed for months."
  • This is the first outright confirmation that Kandawire's enquiry includes action (that the Custodes might consider hostile) beyond information gathering, which was hinted at in Ophar's chapter.
• Before Ophar gives his report, Armina activates a "clandestine sweeper-baffle" to ensure they are not being spied upon. "Having listening devices in the Council chambers of the High Lords was unlikely, but not impossible; in its short life, the civilian administration of the Imperium had become almost as paranoid as the military."
• Ophar first confirms Kandawire's suspicion that "the Custodians are withdrawing from the main patrol routes, and concentrating on the Senatorum complex... they appear to be going somewhere underground... I suspect there are chambers down there that none of us has access to. ... whatever the truth of that, it's clear to me that there are very few of them here. Tiny numbers, far fewer than I expected. ... so many are fighting elsewhere, that the ones here are stretched to breaking. Perhaps that's why he's come back now? There will never be a better time, but it can't last."
  • What's going on down there? Tantalizing question.
  • Now that "he's come back," clearly referring the Valdor, "there will never be a better time." A

Hodor acts oddly when he, Bran, Jojen, and Meera take shelter from a bad storm in Queenscrown Tower. He walks in circles and repeatedly looks in the privy.

> Grey gloom filled the tower, and slowly changed to darkness. Hodor grew restless and walked awhile, striding round and round the walls and stopping to peer into the privy on every circuit, as if he had forgotten what was in there. Jojen stood by the north balcony, hidden by the shadows, looking out at the night and the rain. Somewhere to the north a lightning bolt crackled across the sky, brightening the inside of the tower for an instant. Hodor jumped and made a frightened noise. Bran counted to eight, waiting for the thunder. When it came, Hodor shouted, “Hodor!”

It's easy to dismiss Hodor's behavior because he is a simpleton, 'spooked' by the storm, and the action in the chapter progresses quickly. But Hodor may not be checking the privy repeatedly because he forgot what was in there. It could be that he is looking for something and it's not there, so he checks again because he expects that it should be there.

What is Hodor looking for in the privy? Or, why does he check it repeatedly?

Tinfoil solution: Hodor is looking for Tywin. Somehow, a little bit of Tyrion's soul/memory got mashed up in Hodor, and so Hodor "knows" (like Tyrion "knew") that he will find Tywin in the privy.

Keep in mind this is the chapter that Bran skinchanges Hodor for the first time, so big, skinchanging magic is already at hand. At the same moment, Jon (in his twin Queenscrown chapter) is discussing the Queenscrown Tower while remembering Tyrion ("I had another friend who dreamed of dragons. A dwarf. He told me—").

Looking at the Tyrion-finds-Tywin-in-the-privy chapter, I notice the thematic similarities. Primarily that Tyrion and Jon both contemplate refuse of a command, and escape. Jon refuses Styr's command, resolving to face the punishment. Both Jon and Tyrion are making an escape. Tywin references the Wall for good measure.

> "Will you punish me if I refuse, Father?"

> "This escape is folly. You are not to be killed, if that is what you fear. It's still my intent to send you to the Wall, but I could not do it without Lord Tyrell's consent. Put down the crossbow and we will go back to my chambers and talk of it."

but then I remembered it was ground this morning.

Edit: Thank you guys for the awards, they're much nicer than the cardboard sleeve I've been using and reassures me that my jokes aren't stale

Edit 2: I have already been made aware that Men In Black 3 has told a version of this joke before. If the joke is not new to you, please enjoy any of the single origin puns in the comments

BamBOO!

After so many sequels, it’s easy to forget some of the old assumptions I made back when Kingdom Hearts was a stand-alone game. After replaying the first one again, I wanted to ask something:

“You are the one who will open the door.”

Who is this voice who speaks to Sora during the dream/Dive to the Heart in the opening? What is “the door” or “the door to the light”? Has Sora opened it or are we still waiting?

The voice also utters things like, “Keyblade. Keyblade. Keyblade,” and “—but, don’t be afraid...” This voice seems to hold some authority and knowledge that KH1 Sora is not privy to. The voice almost entirely vanishes from the series until we see something similar in KH2 with the Dusks referring to Roxas as their “Liege,” though this feels largely unrelated. I believe the voice again appears in the opening of KH3 with Sora’s dream/traveling to the Final World. Should be noted everyone speaks this way in the Final World proper with the exception of Namine. It’s unclear which parts are stylistic and which are that same or same kind of voice.

“The Door” is more mysterious. We first see A Door in the third dream station that, when opened, reveals a blinding light that Sora enters only to be whisked back to his home and told, “Hold on. The door won’t open just yet.” This seems to be “The Door” in question. When the Heartless attack the Destiny Islands, The Door appears in reality, not in a dream. It opens and Sora goes through. Inside is Kairi. Is she the “light”? Cloud and Sora once mention looking for their light, referring to (presumptuously) Aerith and Kairi respectively. This is also not to mention that Kairi is a Princess of Heart of pure light.

The Door also opens to the Secret Place that contains another door that leads to the heart of the Destiny Islands and out comes a flood of darkness. This seems like a microcosm of the final events in The End of the World where The Door to Darkness opens to reveal light, destroying Ansem, Seeker of Darkness, and then leading to the dark within.

And on that note, The Door to Darkness is not The Door. It’s design is different for one, but Sora’s goal is to close it, not open it. In the final moments of the game, the voice returns one more time to say, “Don’t forget. You are the one who will open the door.” The voice never brings up the subject again and rarely surfaces at all.

Explanations I’ve heard:

• The voice is Sora’s heart. This does not make sense to me as it is authoritative and knows things Sora

They’re on standbi

A play on words.

My daughter, Chewbecca, not so much.

Pilot on me!!

##Wiki/Chapter list = First Chapter = Previous = Next  

Nako stood opposite the pair of humans, a steel table between them.

They had made their way through the wrecked stations underbelly up to the docking station, where they refused to take a step further until negotiations had been made. A general consensus between the pair, although even through the small interactions Nako had noticed it was the larger, darker coloured of the pair leading decisions.

The mere presence of the younger, lankier human was still the epitome of uncomfortable, Nako’s men were waiting by the docking port, most of them keeping distance as ordered for their own well being.

but the humans had since calmed down when the promise of ‘real’ food had been given.

“While I can only offer you the humble ‘Ah’tau’, it is what your kind would consider proper sustenance,” The Lieutenant commander, explained as they waited. “Not quite as rich or as varied as human culinary technology goes, but far above the usual galactic council rations.” He had ordered one of his more robust soldiers to return with the plates, meals dispensed from the company food boxes, it was closer in size to the citizen nutrient requirements. A soldier's meal would have been more than half their body weights.

The warm and sizzling slices of waudress were placed on the table before the humans, wide eyes and the familiar look of salivation crossed their faces, but they didn't touch the food.

“What is it?” The younger asked.

“Waudress and Kuukat, plant based proteins,” Nako reiterated. The young human pushed the plate towards Nako.

“You first,” he insisted.

A test of trust, Nako had already put his pride aside to appease these aliens, but it was getting more and more irritating that they didn't seem to appreciate that. The lieutenant picked up a single piece of waudress and exposed his secondary mouth, nibbling the piece of food infront of others was, uncomfortable, he quickly finished the piece and pushed the plate back.

“Satsified?”

“Hardly, (god knows what’s actually in it),” came the reply and the young one turned to his companion. “Food, eat.”

The larger of

And now I’m cannelloni

Christopher Walken