Tomato, tomoto
2025.01.24 21:02 Average_AL__ Tomato, tomoto
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2025.01.24 21:02 Hot-Patience-4607 Socks over leggings
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2025.01.24 21:02 Head_Horror8712 Help: Full List of Tekno EB48 2.2 Parts Missing from the 2.1
Hi everyone,
I’m looking to upgrade my Tekno EB48 2.1 to a 2.2, and I need a complete list of all the parts that are in the 2.2 but not in the 2.1. I want to make sure I get everything necessary for the conversion, so if you know the exact parts (with part numbers if possible), please let me know.
Thanks in advance!
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2025.01.24 21:02 josylad Hiring: Cateringmedewerker Ricoh at Vermaat Groep
Vermaat Groep is hiring a Cateringmedewerker Ricoh
Location: Bergen op zoom, Netherlands
Description:
Ben jij gastvrij, enthousiast en gek op eten? Bij Ricoh werk je in een gezellig team met veel diversiteit: van koffie-arrangementen tot grote foodtruck-events. Jij zorgt dat alles tot in de puntjes is geregeld. Interesse? Solliciteer nu en versterk ons team!
Jouw werkplek Welkom bij ons diverse restaurant, waar Ricoh, met zowel office- als warehousemedewerkers, onze gewaardeerde opdrachtgever is. Geniet van een breed scala aan opties, zoals een broodbuffet, belegde broodjes, smoothiebar, saladebar, soep, warme gerechten en zelfgemaakte lekkernijen. We verzorgen ook banqueting, koffiearrangementen, diverse luncharrangementen en meer. Zowel leisure- als zakelijke gasten worden bij ons verwelkomd, met dagelijks 250-300 gasten. Werkdagen zijn doordeweeks van 8:00 tot 16:00 uur, met af en toe weekendwerk voor speciale opdrachten.
Jouw team Het team van Ricoh bestaat uit 5 medewer
Learn More and Apply: https://app.resumeset.com/jobs/cateringmedewerker-ricoh-58772/
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2025.01.24 21:02 TheAntiCoomLord Do you believe Communion is the literal body and blood of Christ? Or do you view it as symbolic?
From my understanding, the Catholic Church views that the bread and wine used for communion transforms into the literal body and blood of Christ through transubstantiation. I've also heard that many modern Catholics have moved away from that specific belief, saying that it's purely symbolic. Have the official views on the Church changed or is this an example of a secular culture slowly imbedding itself into religious dogma?
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2025.01.24 21:02 TheEtrurian [Online][Outgunned][Campaign][20$][CET] Short capmaign: Project Medusa |💥Live your action movie! 🕶
A lost sister, a dead end investigation, and murmurs of a mysterious "Medusa" in some bad circle among the lowlife of the city all together spell trouble. Luckily, some Heroes are ready to save the day!
Your own action movie 🍿 Do you like action movies? 🔫 Do you wait for Christmas just to watch the re-run of Die Hard? 💥 Have you ever dreamed of walking in slow-motion with badassery while everything behind you explodes? 🕶️ Then OUTGUNNED is for you!
OUTGUNNED is an award-winning Italian indie gem from the fantastic team at Two Little Mice (who also published the renowned "Household" and "Memento Mori"). The focus of the whole game is to create cinematic experiences reminiscent of action movies. It's easy to pick up, very dynamic and hilariously fun.
About the adventure Project Medusa is a short campaign made of three sessions (a "Mission Dossier" of three "shots", in technical terms!). Your very own action-filled trilogy! You will play as a group of hardy heroes investigating a mysterious experimental weapon, codenamed "Medusa". This dangerous artefact, in the wrong hands, would be very bad news for the world. Your mission, should you accept it, is to find it and destroy it.
Info System: Outgunned Platform and comms: Alchemy VTT Session duration: about 3 hours Player experience: none required! Outgunned is very friendly even as a first-time RPG experience! Price: $20/session via Startplaying
Available tables More might pop in the future, so keep an eye out! Not available at these times but still interested? Get in touch all the same!
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2025.01.24 21:02 Imaginary-Tax1399 Can demon king of the sword sleep ? and what do you think the concept of warrior of dreams ?
just wasking because does bloodshoot eyes are the stuff of nightmares,i am guessing tht magic is the only thing keepig kim alive right now and from going blind,but if he did sleep,what do you think we would dream about ?other than nightmares and memories of the past.
do you think we might still be introduce to new warrior in season 2,that even the hero of return didn´t know about ?
also would being force to be asleep forever be better or worse fate than death ?
how long do you think would such tactic last ?and what would be the consequences ?if the world didn´t end but the demon king is still alive ?
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2025.01.24 21:02 smee- special business concentration application missing?
I went on the website and clicked “apply now” but there’s nothing there… it’s supposed to be open… HELP
submitted by smee- to columbia [link] [comments]
2025.01.24 21:02 ANewsHubBot Israel Escalates Violence in West Bank, Conducts Drone Strikes and Raids as Death Toll Rises
 | submitted by ANewsHubBot to WorldNewsHeadlines [link] [comments] |
2025.01.24 21:02 lacostelacoste i have 11-months old niece with the Down Syndrome, if you have experience with such kinda thing, share you tips and tell me more about them, what should i do to be a good aunt?
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2025.01.24 21:02 Standard_Spaniard Russian state TV is stunned by Trump's ultimatum
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2025.01.24 21:02 Prestigious_Fly4556 Boundaries of the Heart
To call someone family is a huge deal for me. Not because I’m close to mine, but because I’m not. I don’t know about you, but maybe it’s easier for you—you have so many people in your life you consider family.
For me, calling someone family means they truly make me feel at home. And you do. You make me feel seen, protected, and cared for. When I call you family, it means so much more. It means I feel safe with you. It means I can be vulnerable with you. And believe me, I’m never vulnerable in front of people.
But here’s the thing: you can’t be vulnerable with me, because you have others in your life to share that with. I don’t. And that stops me from opening up fully to you, because ultimately, it isn’t your burden to bear. Being the only one vulnerable in this connection, without seeing the same from you, hurts. I want to open up and lay myself bare in front of you, but I can’t. This world has boundaries, and I can’t cross them. Nor do I think you’d want me to.
I’m happy to know that you care, but this feels like a path without an end. I don’t want to walk it only to get lost along the way. I’d rather not walk at all.
I know I’m pathetic for feeling this way, but I’m love-starved. The smallest gesture of care from you might seem insignificant to you, but to a beggar like me, it feels like a million dollars. And that’s the problem—if you keep giving me a penny, I’ll keep dreaming of being a billionaire. So I have to stop. I’d rather leave empty-handed than let this spiral into something neither of us can handle.
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2025.01.24 21:02 No-Net-6299 Intraoral scanners
What is currently the best intraoral scanner on the market in terms of accuracy and value for money? I’d love to hear insights from those who have experience with different brands and models.
submitted by No-Net-6299 to Dentistry [link] [comments]
2025.01.24 21:02 AdvancingFade Santa Muerte: We met then parted
Some years ago I prayed to Santa Muerte; she gave me a feeling of peace as advice on a problem. When I stood up something weird happened; I felt taller - I'm not joking. So I thought that it’s just my mind. So I went downstairs and asked my family, "Do I look taller?".They were amazed saying that it’s true, but gave me possible reasons - none of which could be true. The following day I went to a shop in town, coming out, the red sunset hit me as a blood red death symbol.🤷♂️ It seems Santa Muerte lost interest and went away after some time. How do I get her back? I like her, she listens.
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2025.01.24 21:02 TypicalAardvark5888 America is set to collapse in spectacular fashion this summer between June and September of 2025. The summer of 2025 will bring extreme poverty and death while Mars is within 30 degrees of the lunar node. A new memorandum to investors
America is set to collapse in spectacular fashion this summer between June and September of 2025. The summer of 2025 will bring extreme poverty and death while Mars is within 30 degrees of the lunar node. A new memorandum to investors https://www.academia.edu/127171531
This writing is a warning about the economic collapse that will occur between June and September of 2025. The ramifications of inflationary monetary policies conducted over the last two decades are now set to manifest in real time. This upcoming crash will comprise of more than just the market economy. The incubation period defined by the application of hazardous monetary policies, i.e raising the debt ceiling, incurring more debt, mismanaging inflation, the rising deficit, etc. has come to an end, and the first major symptoms of these measures will reveal itself in more than just a market crash. This time, the crash will involve the market economy and the real economy, in that a market crash will coincide with massive unemployment, social unrest, ethnic conflict, bank runs, geopolitical instability, national security vulnerability, and currency collapse. Since the US is no longer under the petrodollar paradigm, it is justified to anticipate that continuing with the same reckless monetary approach post-petrodollar will have dire consequences if something new isn't applied as a safeguard measure against the grim outcome that awaits the country.
This crash is slated to happen when the planet Mars is both within 30 degrees of the lunar node and behind the sun, a most dire omen for all of humanity. This was the configuration in the heavens during the stock market crash of 1929, the crash of 1987, the 9/11 terror attacks, the low of the crash of 2008, the 2005 London bombings, the 2015 Paris terror attacks, the COVID crash of 2020, October 7th and now the summer devastation of 2025.
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2025.01.24 21:02 Forsaken_Way3862 DePIN projects I am running
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2025.01.24 21:02 SoulSentry Portal for Loan Officer?
Is there the possibility in the future to allow view only access for loan officers or financial planners? It was a bit of a pain trying to navigate different banks / loan officer portals and logging into several accounts to get statements ect.
I wonder if Monarch would ever let the users create view only access logins to share with financial professionals.
Or is this a terrible idea? I just hated the pre-approval process...
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2025.01.24 21:02 AltruisticBeing6423 bust to eachothers moms and degrade them with pics dm krooo
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2025.01.24 21:02 justin_quinnn Trump nominee who helped write Project 2025 attacked by Senate Dems as 'dangerous' • Oregon Capital Chronicle
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2025.01.24 21:02 CockroachEarly Dead internet rule
 | submitted by CockroachEarly to 19684 [link] [comments] |
2025.01.24 21:02 pikapeeee Dialga. 5750 0177 2381 party of 2. Will add as many as I can. Be online. Yellow Gym.
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2025.01.24 21:02 jetstreamer2 [ROLEPLAY] Shadows Under the Midnight Sun
Shadows Under the Midnight Sun VIBE
Among the crowd, Livia Scaurus moved gracefully, her emerald gown shimmering with each step. Tonight, she was not Livia Scaurus of the Speculatores, but Silvia Bellini, the charming daughter of a wealthy industrialist. She appeared completely at ease, as though her only goal were to enjoy the evening—but her sharp eyes missed nothing. Every gesture, every stray word, every movement in the room was cataloged with the precision of a hunter tracking prey.
From his position near the bar, Marcus Faustus watched her with an air of detached amusement. Under his cover identity of Marco De Luca, an art dealer with a reputation for flamboyance, he played his part well. His tailored suit was impeccable, his posture relaxed, but his focus was razor-sharp. Calderone was the target, and Marcus’s every move was calculated to support Livia’s approach.
The target himself finally appeared, and his presence immediately shifted the atmosphere. Vittorio Calderone, silver-haired and charismatic, strode into the room with the confidence of a man accustomed to command. His tailored suit and polished shoes spoke of wealth, but it was his voice that captured attention. Deep and resonant, it carried effortlessly over the hum of conversation as he greeted his admirers and sycophants. Calderone had built a reputation as a visionary, a man who saw Italy’s future aligned with Japan. Tonight, he was the center of attention, and every move he made only solidified his image as a man of ambition.
“Japan represents the future,” Calderone declared, raising his glass to a small circle of influential figures. “The Midnight Sun has given Italy the gift of her protection, her markets, her guidance. Italy must course-correct with her help so we can escape the stagnation of Europe and rise to greatness.”
Livia drifted closer. She timed her approach carefully, allowing a natural opening before speaking. “Signor Calderone,” she said, “your vision for Italy is truly inspiring. I couldn’t help but overhear.”
Calderone turned, his chest puffing slightly with pride as he took in her striking appearance. “Ah, a fellow believer in progress,” he said with a warm smile. “And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“Silvia Bellini,” she replied, extending her hand. “I’m merely an observer tonight, but your ideas... they resonate deeply.”
Calderone took her hand, his grip firm but lingering. “It is rare to meet someone who truly understands the scope of what we could achieve. Perhaps you would indulge me with your thoughts?”
Livia’s smile widened. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Italy must break free from the chains of Europe’s decline,” Calderone said. “We cannot remain tethered to the outdated ideas that some, such as the exiled Italian puppets of the Greeklings, continue to advocate for. Italy's place is alongside Japan. Japan... Japan is the key. Their power, their innovation... It is exactly what we need to rebuild our strength.”
“You speak with such conviction, Signor Calderone,” Livia said, tilting her head slightly. “I can see why many are drawn to your vision.”
“Conviction,” Calderone replied, lifting his glass, “is what separates the leaders from the dreamers. And make no mistake, I intend to lead.”
“And what would that leadership look like? Surely you must have a plan.”
Calderone hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering around the room. Then, emboldened by Livia’s admiration and the wine he had been sipping, he leaned in slightly. “There are... discussions underway,” he admitted, lowering his voice. “The Japanese representation in Italy and I share a vision of that would reshape our country. Together, Italy would be Japan's bulwark in Europe. A dedicated and willing partner, fully supported by her army, wealth, and wisdom. Italy would be unstoppable.
At the bar, Marcus watched the exchange closely. Disguised as Marco De Luca, he appeared disinterested, swirling his drink in its glass, but his attention was locked on Livia and Calderone. Subtly, he signaled the bartender, who nodded and began preparing Calderone’s next drink. The sedative, odorless and tasteless, was added with precision to the glass of Super Tuscan.
When Calderone turned to accept the drink, Livia raised her own glass in a toast. “To bold visions,” she said with a smile.
“To the future of Italy,” Calderone replied, grinning. He drank deeply, oblivious to the trap closing around him.
Within minutes, the sedative began to take effect. Calderone’s words slurred slightly, and he swayed on his feet. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, blinking rapidly. “I... I’m not feeling well.”
Livia stepped forward, her expression one of genuine concern. “Oh no, let me help you,” she said, steadying him. She gestured subtly to Marcus, who moved toward the exit to ensure their path was clear.
A uniformed Carabinieri officer, one of their operatives loyal to the Republic, approached. “This gentleman needs medical attention,” Livia said firmly.
The officer nodded. “I’ll call for an ambulance immediately.”
By the time Calderone was loaded into the vehicle, his head was lolling, his consciousness slipping away. Livia and Marcus watched as the ambulance, driven by resistance operatives, disappeared into the night.
“Phase One is complete,” Marcus said quietly..
Livia adjusted her shawl, her expression unreadable. “Then let’s move. There’s more work to be done.”
“Route clear for the next ten kilometers,” one of the paramedics said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. He glanced toward Livia and Marcus, who sat in a separate vehicle following the ambulance. Both agents were silent, their focus sharp as they kept a watchful eye on their surroundings.
The convoy’s escape plan had been meticulously orchestrated. The Speculatores had mapped every inch of the route, identifying potential choke points and arranging contingencies for any unforeseen events.
Resistance members had hacked into traffic control systems to manipulate signals, creating a seamless path through Milan’s labyrinthine streets. In the distance, a decoy ambulance, identical to the real one, sped toward the Austrian border, its false trail designed to divert any pursuing forces.
As the ambulance moved eastward, the cityscape gave way to the rolling hills of the Italian countryside. The moon cast a pale glow over the fields, illuminating the shadows of farmers working late into the night. These farmers, too, were part of the resistance network. Each subtle gesture—a raised hand, a tilt of a hat—served as a coded signal confirming that the path ahead was clear.
Inside the ambulance, Marcus monitored Calderone closely. His hand rested near the concealed weapon at his hip, ready to act should their target stir prematurely. He glanced at Livia, who sat with an air of poised control, her mind calculating the next steps.
“If he stirs,” Marcus said quietly, “we end this here.”
Livia’s emerald eyes flashed toward him. “He won’t,” she replied. “The dosage is precise. Trust the plan.”
The radio crackled to life, a coded message from a resistance cell stationed ahead. “Checkpoint clear. Proceeding as planned.”
The convoy adjusted its course, veering off the main road onto a dirt path that wound through a dense forest. The sound of the ambulance’s engine was muffled by the thick undergrowth, yet another layer of safety.
As they approached a clearing, the headlights illuminated a small, abandoned farmhouse. Resistance fighters emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by scarves. They waved the ambulance forward, signaling that the first staging point had been reached.
Livia stepped out and approached the resistance leader, a grizzled man with a scar running down the side of his face. “Status?” she asked.
“All quiet,” the man replied. “No sign of pursuit.”
Together, they transferred Calderone to a waiting vehicle, an inconspicuous van loaded with supplies and outfitted with jamming equipment. The convoy resumed its journey, now weaving through backroads and avoiding any potential checkpoints.
Calderone’s unconscious form was strapped securely to a stretcher, his face pale under the dim light. Marcus glanced at him periodically, his expression unreadable. “He looks too peaceful for a man selling his country out” he muttered.
Livia’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon. “He’ll find no peace where he’s going,” she said coldly.
Livia and Marcus stepped out of the van, their boots crunching against the gravel path. The harbor’s dim lighting cast long shadows across the ground as they walked towards the shore. Calderone was carefully unloaded, his stretcher concealed beneath a tarpaulin.
“Get him on the boat,” Marcus ordered. Resistance operatives moved quickly. The Zodiac boat waiting at the dock was sleek and nearly silent, equipped with a state-of-the-art stealth motor designed to minimize detection.
Livia scanned the horizon with a pair of night-vision binoculars, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the water. “No movement. Coast is clear,” she confirmed.
The boat came to life, cutting through the calm waters with precision. Above them, a drone buzzed softly, its infrared camera providing a bird’s-eye view of their surroundings. The operators at Speculatores headquarters monitored the feed closely, ready to relay any signs of trouble.
Halfway to their rendezvous point a sharp beam of light pierced the darkness, sweeping across the water. An Italian naval patrol boat loomed in the distance, its searchlight scanning for any signs of suspicious activity. This was a stretch of water commonly used by refugees fleeing to the SRR and by Roman smugglers moving product to Italian black markets.
Marcus reached for his weapon instinctively, but Livia stopped him with a firm hand. “Not yet,” she said. “Let’s see if we can outmaneuver them first.”
She grabbed the radio, her voice calm but urgent. “Falco to Nereus, we have a situation. Need a distraction.”
From a hidden position on the coastline, a resistance-controlled signal station intercepted the patrol boat’s communications. Within moments, a false distress signal was sent, reporting an emergency further north. The patrol boat hesitated, its searchlight lingering on the water for a few agonizing seconds before turning away. The vessel changed course, heading toward the fabricated emergency
“Crisis averted,” Livia said, exhaling softly. She glanced at Marcus, who nodded in approval.
They reached the rendezvous point—a desolate patch of open sea where no lights pierced the darkness, save for the faint glow of the stars above. For several ominous minutes, there was nothing but the sound of water sloshing against the boat. The drone overhead provided live surveillance to Speculatores headquarters, but even its feed revealed only empty ocean.
“Where are they?” Marcus muttered, his voice tight with impatience.
Livia held up a hand, silencing him. She tilted her head, listening intently. Then, like a shadow emerging from the depths, a massive submarine surfaced silently before them. Its silhouette was imposing, a leviathan of steel and stealth. The name "Lacrimosa" was faintly visible along its side, painted in dark lettering that seemed to absorb the faint light around it.
The hatch on the submarine remained closed as if it were sizing up the boat and its occupants. Livia reached for the flashlight tucked into her jacket, its beam cutting through the darkness in sharp, deliberate bursts. She tapped out a message in Morse code:
"Remus has arrived at the Aventine."
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, from the submarine’s deck, another light flashed in response:
"Romulus awaits."
Livia nodded to Marcus. “That’s the signal.”
The hatch of the Lacrimosa opened with a faint hiss, and two figures emerged, dressed in the matte black uniforms. Their faces were obscured by masks, and their movements were deliberate, almost mechanical. They gestured for the boat to come closer, their body language betraying no emotion.
Marcus and Livia guided the Zodiac alongside the submarine. The operatives aboard extended a platform, securing the boat to the larger vessel.
“Hand him over,” one of the operatives ordered, his voice distorted through the mask’s comm system.
Livia and Marcus worked quickly, lifting Calderone’s stretcher and passing it to the waiting operatives. The unconscious man was carried into the Lacrimosa’s interior without ceremony, disappearing into the submarine’s shadowy depths.
As Livia moved to follow, one of the operatives stepped in her path. “Your mission ends here,” he said flatly. “You are not authorized to board.”
Marcus bristled, “We were told to ensure his transfer personally.”
“And you have,” the operative replied. “Your orders now are to return to Milan. Monitor the fallout. Observe and report back on the power vacuum Calderone’s absence will create.”
Livia placed a calming hand on Marcus’s arm. “Understood,” she said smoothly, her voice betraying no frustration. “We will return to Milan and await further instructions.”
The operatives offered no further words. With a final, sharp gesture, they retracted the platform and secured the hatch. The Lacrimosa began its descent, the water swallowing it whole. Within moments, the vast submarine had disappeared, leaving the Zodiac alone in the endless expanse of the Adriatic.
Marcus exhaled sharply, staring at the now-empty sea. “I don’t like this. They could at least let us see it through.”
Livia shook her head. “We’ve done our part. Now it’s up to them.” She glanced at the horizon, her expression unreadable. “Let’s get back to Milan. The real game starts now.” With that, she guided the boat back toward the coastline, the hum of its stealth motor fading into the vast, open waters.
Calderone’s holding cell was stark and oppressive. The walls were constructed of reinforced steel, their surfaces faintly gleaming under the pale, flickering light of overhead bulbs. Outside the cell, armed guards stood at attention, their faces obscured by masks. Calderone’s unconscious body was strapped to a steel gurney, his wrists and ankles bound tightly with restraints.
Hours passed. When Calderone finally stirred, his head throbbed, and his vision swam as he adjusted to the harsh light. The room was sterile and cold, the silence so absolute it seemed to press against his ears. Panic set in as he tried to move, only to find his limbs immobilized. He tugged at the restraints, but the steel held firm.
“Good morning, Signor Calderone,” a smooth, honeyed voice greeted him from the shadows.
Calderone’s eyes darted toward the source of the voice. A tall, impeccably dressed man stepped into the light. His suit was midnight black, tailored perfectly to his slender frame, and his tie was blood red. He carried himself with a calculated elegance, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. His pale, sharp features were framed by slicked-back dark hair, and his piercing eyes seemed to study Calderone as if he were a particularly fascinating specimen.
“Who… who are you?” Calderone croaked, his voice hoarse.
The man’s lips curled into a smile. “You may call me Sejanus. I have the distinct honor of serving as Prefect of the Custodiae Aeternae. Think of me as… the guardian of Rome’s secrets.”
Sejanus moved closer, his polished leather shoes clicking softly against the floor. He gestured around the room with a sweeping motion of his hand. “Welcome to your new home. The Occasus Solis is a remarkable place, don’t you think? So quiet. So isolated. The perfect setting for… intimate conversations.” His voice dripped with mockery, each word carefully chosen to unsettle.
Calderone strained against his restraints again, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “You have no right to detain me! I… I am a powerful man - a close ally of Japan! The world will—”
Sejanus chuckled. “Ah, but Calderone, here beneath the waves, the world is a very distant concern. No one will come looking for you, and even if they did, they would find nothing. You are quite alone.” He leaned in closer. “But don’t worry. I’ll be keeping you company. I’ve been looking forward to getting to know you better.”
Calderone’s fear twisted into anger. “You’ll never get anything from me! I know how these things work. You can’t break me.”
Sejanus’ smile widened, his teeth gleaming. “Break you? My good sir, you misunderstand. I’m not here to break you – not yet at least. I’m here to understand you. To peel back the layers of your ambition, your motives, your… dreams.”
He straightened and began to pace slowly around the gurney. “Tell me, why Japan? Why tie your future to theirs when history has shown that such alliances often end… poorly?”
Calderone glared at him, his jaw clenched. “Japan represents progress, strength. They don’t meddle in our affairs like the Germans did. They respect us.”
Sejanus’s eyebrows rose, feigning interest. “Respect. Fascinating. And do you truly believe their interest in Italy stems from respect, or is it perhaps… convenience? A stepping stone to greater ambitions in Europe, perhaps?”
Calderone shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
Sejanus stopped pacing. “Oh, but you will. You will tell me everything. Your plans for Italy, your dealings with the Japanese, … all of it. And if you refuse, well, let’s just say… the depths of this facility offer many ways to encourage cooperation.”
“Rest well,” Sejanus said, turning toward the door. “We’ll continue this conversation soon. And do try to be cooperative. It would be such a shame to waste all this… potential.”
As the door hissed shut behind him, Calderone was left alone with his thoughts, the faint hum of the base’s machinery the only sound in the oppressive silence.
“Shall we begin again?” Sejanus said simply.
Calderone scowled but said nothing. His body still ached from the electrical shocks delivered during the course of the night. He knew better than to show weakness, but the pain made his resolve waver.
Sejanus pulled up a chair and sat down across from him. “I’ve been reviewing what little you’ve shared so far,” he said, opening the case to reveal a series of syringes, vials, and instruments. “And I must say, while I admire your stubbornness, it is ultimately... futile.”
Calderone struggled against his restraints. “You won’t get any more from me. Torture me all you want.”
Sejanus gave a small, humorless laugh. “Oh, this isn’t torture. Not yet.” He selected a vial, drew its contents into a syringe, and held it up to the light. “This is simply persuasion.”
The next hour was a brutal cycle of questions, refusals, and physical punishment. Sejanus wielded his tools with clinical precision, inflicting just enough pain to weaken Calderone’s defenses but not break him entirely. Each time Calderone resisted, the punishments escalated. Sweat dripped down his forehead, his breaths ragged, but still, he held out.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Calderone gasped, “Fine! I’ll tell you.”
Sejanus leaned back in his chair, folding his hands neatly in his lap. “Go on.”
“I... I wanted to take advantage of the chaos,” Calderone confessed. “The chemical weapon scandal, the political instability—it created an opening. With Japan's help, I could consolidate power and reshape Italy into a strong, proud nation once more.”
Sejanus nodded slowly. “An opportunist. Ambitious. Pragmatic. I must admit, I find your methods impressive.”
Calderone blinked, taken aback. “You... you agree with me?”
“Only in principle,” Sejanus replied, his tone softening slightly. “You see, chaos is a ladder. It is the ambitious who climb it while the weak are consumed by it. In that regard, you and I are alike.”
For a fleeting moment, Calderone felt a spark of hope. But it was extinguished when Sejanus leaned forward. “But you forgot one crucial element,” he said.
Calderone’s throat tightened. “What element?”
Sejanus’s lips curved into a thin smile. “Your plan was against the interests of the Republic."
He stood, straightening his suit as he spoke. “The Italian people are suffering. They are angry, humiliated, betrayed. And that anger must have a direction. Japan is the perfect target. The people must hate them. They must feel the weight of betrayal so that, when the time comes, they will welcome their liberators—the Romans—with open arms.”
Calderone stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “You’re manipulating them. Using their pain to justify your agenda.”
“Precisely,” Sejanus said without hesitation. “It’s called strategy. Something you clearly lack.”
“How does this fit the Second Roman Republic’s grand vision?” Calderone spat, his voice hoarse but steady.
“You claim to be a bastion of liberty and freedom, a torch of hope in a sea of darkness. Yet here I am, bound and tortured in the shadows and you condemn the Italian people to suffering. Tell me, Prefect, where does this fit into your ethos?”
Sejanus chuckled and stepped closer to the gurney, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Oh, Calderone, you’ve mistaken the symphony for a single note. You see, people will fight their oppressors so long as the hatred for their overlords and the hope for a better future outweigh the consequences of their rebellion. The public image of the Republic… that provides the hope. My people provide the hatred. And the tools to fight back. Simple as that.”
Calderone’s face twisted with disgust. “How can you live with yourself, knowing you’ve turned your ideals into nothing but a facade?”
“Live with myself? Calderone, I thrive. I don’t submit to terror; I make the terror. The deck is stacked, and the rules are rigged. The Italian people don’t know what’s best for them. I do. They’re like little children—we have to hold their sticky fingers and wipe their filthy mouths. Teach them right from wrong. Tell them what to think and how to feel… and, most importantly, what to want - liberation by their fellow Roman compatriots. They even need help writing their wildest dreams, crafting their worst fears. Lucky for them, they have me.”
Calderone strained against his restraints, rage boiling beneath his fear. “You’re a monster.”
Sejanus straightened, his face an unreadable mask of calm. “No, Calderone. I am necessity made flesh. For those of us climbing to the top of the food chain, there can be no mercy. There is but one world—hunt or be hunted. Cry havoc, said he who fought chaos with chaos, and let slip the dogs of war. You think I’m cruel? War is cruel. Fear is cruel. Brutal. Total. Us Romans know that all to well. While you Italians have lived under the boot for decades, we Romans bled to preserve what we have.”
“The road to greatness is paved with hypocrisy and casualties. You’d know that if you were half the man you pretend to be. But let me make one thing perfectly clear: we are done trying to win over people’s hearts. The time for that has passed. We must be ruthless with those who hate us.
Calderone’s breath quickened as Sejanus’s words pressed into him like the crushing depths of the ocean outside. “You can’t control people forever,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Eventually, they will rise against you.”
Sejanus stopped pacing, standing at the foot of the gurney. His eyes bore into Calderone’s, icy and unrelenting. “Control? Who said anything about control? I don’t need their obedience. I need their desperation. Their pain. Their anger. People are at their most useful when they’re desperate. And when the time comes, they will do exactly what I need them to do… without even realizing it.”
With that, Sejanus left and Calderone was left alone in the suffocating silence, the weight of Sejanus’s words pressing down on him like the crushing depths of the Adriatic. Above the waves, the world spun on, oblivious to the brutal machinations unfolding beneath its surface
Calderone was dragged through dimly lit corridors, his restrained body jostled as the guards marched in perfect, unfeeling rhythm. They entered a cavernous room, dimly illuminated by the eerie glow of overhead lights. Calderone’s eyes widened in horror. Before him stretched rows upon rows of crucified figures, their bodies twisted and lifeless. Slayer officers captured during the Byzantine war, spies from the Garden, and countless nameless enemies of the Republic hung in grotesque silence. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the stench of death.
Sejanus followed at a measured pace, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped beside Calderone and gestured toward the grim tableau. “Behold, the price of subverting the Republic. You are in illustrious company.”
Calderone began to tremble, his lips moving in silent prayer.
“Crucify him,” Sejanus commanded his subordinates, his voice as sharp and unyielding as tempered steel.
One of the guards hesitated, glancing cautiously at Sejanus.
Sejanus turned his gaze on the man, his expression devoid of mercy.
“We are all ruthless. We destroy. We are at war, he is an enemy combatant and will be treated as such. Now obey.”
The guard nodded hastily, stepping forward to carry out the order.
Calderone’s prayer grew louder, desperate, a plea for salvation. Sejanus leaned in close, his breath cold against Calderone’s ear.
“There is no solace above or below,” he murmured, his voice almost tender. “The Midnight Sun will set, and it will give way to a Roman Dawn.”
As Calderone was dragged away to his fate, Sejanus turned to one of his officers.
“I want him obliterated,” he said. “More than that—let’s make him suffer.”
The officer saluted, and the room was once again filled with the sounds of footsteps and muffled cries. Sejanus watched impassively, the faintest smile curling at the corner of his lips as the wheels of his brutal machine ground forward, unrelenting and unstoppable.
Sejanus offered the following parting words to Calderone.
“There is only fury under the Eagle.”
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2025.01.24 21:02 spreadzer0 Any insight on my mycotoxin report levels?
 | I'm in-between practitioners but just got these results in from a test I previously sent in. Are these levels as bad as they look? I'd appreciate just any insight at all to help me gauge what I'm dealing with. I'd like to start some sort of detoxification protocol as soon as I'm able to. I do know I have the MTHFR gene variation which doesn't help. If there are any specific binders or any knowledge at all to offer me to research and look into I'd take it. https://preview.redd.it/7hnp4uty90fe1.png?width=624&format=png&auto=webp&s=2f2ddd912be4ba7319682f9fc66a8cda9e220ee2 submitted by spreadzer0 to ToxicMoldExposure [link] [comments] |
2025.01.24 21:02 Both-Ferret-4719 Whats your Favorite Ending?
 | submitted by Both-Ferret-4719 to AnimeOpenings [link] [comments] |
2025.01.24 21:02 theInfantAlbert [WTS] Sailor 19ll L Black w/ Rhodium Trim M and Pilot Custom 743 Black w/ Gold Trim FM
https://imgur.com/a/QU1hKhB
Con-US shipping included.
Pilot Custom 743 Black w/ Gold Trim FM [B] $150
Sailor 19ll Large Black w/ Rhodium Trim M [B] $150
Both pens write great. Just want to downsize the collection.
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