it seems a common interperetation of flamethrowers vs xenomorphs is that the xeno will just burn up, which feels dumb to me

I got this from the doom Ultimate Aliens mod, basically, flaming a xeno will make them explode, now I know it's from the AVP games (why has there been no movies with the colonial marines fighiting aliens and predators, this is a sin)

finally playing gotg after your suggestion, and im having lots of fun!! i like the fighiting gameplay, the dev clearly cared for the characters and i love the banter between them!! (my only complain about this game for now is the weird quick time event)

yeee I'm glad you're enjoying it! the game was a pleasant surprise (especially after the Avengers game debacle, thankfully I haven't played that one)

also, you can turn off QTEs in the Accessibility options I think. I turned them off too, because most of them popped up in the middle of a cutscene and I wasn't prepared

SNK Gals’ Fighters, el mejor juego que salió para Neo Geo Pocket Color, cumple veinte años. 

Little People - An Irish Fairy Tale Part 2

The reign of dreams and roses

"Don't bother them, my dear. You were lucky they found your little trap hilarious!" "Mister O'Reilly, what happened in this valley? Why is everyone warning me against the little people?" A long silence followed, during which the old man sipped his Connemara peated whiskey. "Sweetheart, you may hear a lot of tales down at the pub, but also in our family there's something to tell. You've never known your cousin Billy, haven't you? Well, he might tell you about that time he became slave of the Queen of Spiny Roses for a whole moon cycle." "Slave?" "Don't be surprised. They're ancient souls. They conceive only those rapports they can understand and here in the citadel for a thousand years there was a Count and his servants. They don't understand this free life thing, without owners, where everyone seems equal to each other. They have a very strict hierarchy and I can promise you.. if you keep giving enough rope, they will tie you up. At least, that's what happened to Billy." "What did Billy have to do for the Queen?" "At that time Billy would have sold his soul to fill his glass, to those vices the good people like to cling. A night in the woods a little crowd of fairies bumped into  giant Billy, the Queen ordered her folks to bring their guest a glass of the bitter Spirit's nectar. He guzzle that witches' brew without a single word. He could swear it was tasty like ambrosia of all forgotten Gods. The Queen claimed a payment for his drink and Billy started to mock her 'Is it I pay you?' said Billy 'could I not just take you up and put you in my pocket as easily as a blackberry?' The Queen did not let go of that insolence and the good lords  tightened the invisible harness they caught him in and led him to their ruler like a steed. She imposed a vow of obedience till the end of next moon cycle and on occasion she showed off their rivals her power over him, claiming his tongue as footrest." "I don't get what you're saying, sir. You did tell me we've got power over fairy manifestation.. that it depends on our thoughts and our desires, our hopes and fears." The old man smiled "From what slavery would a man be freed? From drink-slavery or from a queen-slavery?" The girl understood that story was concealing a metaphor of redemption and humility. The old man's stories are indeed so bewildering: you never know where the symbol ends and the anecdote begins. "Anyway when we found Billy he was covered in stings from the waist up. He said the ball of Roses court had been held on his chest. A ball where every damsel's heel is a thorn of a flower and all skirts are petals. To us he had fallen in a field full of nettles." "What a strange story. I would never be enslaved by such a wicked Queen. Why didn't he rise up against her, I wonder." The old man shrugged muttering a proverb of his parts "The lake is not burdened by its swan, the steed by its bridle, or a man by the soul that is in him".

***

That night Elizabeth wrote a quick note in Gaelic by the windowsill:"I want to meet you. Come and see me.". She left a sugar cube as gift. The girl rolled over her bed restlessly, hoping her message would reach its destination and, as often happens, sleep came  all of a sudden, like a swoon. She found herself in a very strange place never seen before. It resempled an ancient kitchen on the basement of a castle, with no windows, red briks as walls and roof, painted cardboard as wallpaper on one side, a makeshift chimney. Outside the noise of the rain was heavy and emptied out of the comforting sensation with which it gifted melancholic souls. She was identifying in that room a combination of minuscule things. All chairs were small wooden cubes of an old child's game, and so was the table. They weren't comfy, but pieces of cloth stuffed with wool, roughly sewn, gave softness to the seat. A pocket mirror served as tray for a miniature porcelaine tea set, a bit chipped, but lovely at first sight. The sugar cube she had left in gift was lying right next to it, with an awl sticked at its center. The girl realized she was falling in a bizarre dream scenario, but something real was also taking place. "Is this a dream?" "Of course, little girl" answered a middle-aged male voice from the outside. The small door of that sort of kitchen was a metal shutter. A man was moving it with his shoulder, carrying a bundle of sticks or twigs bound together and a bucket of water. Covered with a waterproof plastic bag, the man laid down all the materials and cast a glance over the table to be sure everything was in place. His big nose and bushy eyebrows gave him an austere touch and there was something of the  craftsman's wisdom in his skilled hands and his silence. He hunged his unusual coat on the knight's head of a chessboard (his clothes rack, she guessed). The girl was paralyzed and hugged herself in the nightgown. She wasn't cold, the atmosphere was warm enough, she was feeling a sense of vulnerability that made her closed off. The man took care of the fireplace and fill the water on the teapot. "Come closer to the fireplace, kid!" He had a raspy voice and an unjustified scowl to her feeling. "Why'd you bring me here?" He looked her up and down like a fool, then he nodded toward the table where a piece of paper was serving as tablecloth. 'I want to meet you.' read the girl, recognizing her handwriting. "But.. are you Tuvia!?" After a moment of silence, during which the man was trying to  catch the sincerity of the question, he laughed outright "AHAHAH Me? That leaf in the wind? Do I seem a rain spirit?! I thought you were a smart one, kid, but if these are the premises.." The girl didn't seem to appreciate the little man humour "So Sir.. you picked up a message that was not addressed to you. Why should you interfere with my correspondence?!" "Correspondence? Look, sweetie.. what do you think we have a mail service here in Bluebell forest? We give more values to a tree then your own kind.. we don't waste their sheets for a futile message." "Who the hell are you, anyway? Little people? What are you doing here in my dreams?" "That's how we meet for the first time. We don't accept invitations from strangers." The teapot started to splutter on the fireplace, the steam bubbles looked like small domes and the water sounded so much deeper then usual.. she understood that her size was making every sound so alien and unsettling. From the infusion aromas of wildflowers started to spread in the room. "What's your name?" "My dear, what sort of question is that? I'm the guardian spirit of O'Really's family. My name's O'Really, of course" "So.. Do Guardian spirits take the name from the family they protect?" He didn't answer. He didn't seem to like rhetorical question, but was forcing himself to stay kind and served the tea calmly with a piece of sugar cube in it. "Listen, child. We Home spirits don't talk more than is strictly necessary. Our silence is our invisibility. So let me get right to the point: you heard elder O'Reilly advice before.. Do not upset the spirits of these woods. He's telling you this for your own good" Being called 'child" from that Spirit turned Elizabeth against him. She changed attitude and the tone of voices turned sharp and bitter. "So you just don't collect someonelse's letters, you also eavesdrop their conversations!" Talking to her was a great exercise in patience, he acknowledged. "It's not what you're thinking.. I can't just ignore whatever happens inside these walls. We're born from the feelings of this family, if they are worried for you, so am I. That's why I appear in your dream." "I weep from your sudden sentimentality" she said sarcastically "but I'm willing to bet that you were able to eavesdrop on our conversations simply because your lair is not so far from the fireplace" "I'm warning you, don't try to find it. You'd cause trouble to the O'Really family!" "Perhaps you should've considered that before you invited me in first place, you silly little man! Now, give this KID here a good reason she should not wake up and start to play cat-and-mouse game with you?" She sipped the tea, staring at the little spirit with an imperious smile that didn't bode well. "A reason, you say? With humans reasoning is not persuasive. I just pointed the sill you shall not cross, my dear, I didn't mean to push you through it" "Advice I didn't ask for" she crossed her arms and the situation freezed up. The home spirit resigned himself. "How do I wake?" she asked. "Don't worry, soon enough you'll be laying in your bed. Humans have control over the waking hours, but we spirits have our revenge in dreams realm. You're lucky we didn't inherit your cruelty. Anyway, if I can't dissuade you, I will be your messenger and maybe one day I will lead you to Tuvia" "I don't get if you're here to sabotage me or to help me" "We should not threaten the delicate balance currently in place in Bluebell forest. The Queen of Roses is the keeper of this equilibrium, she can't bear humans intrusiveness into her reign. Especially from someone that does look like her." "Do I look like the Queen of Roses?" Elizabeth's questions were to him as sharp and wit as the echo of a well. "Tuvia fought The Court of Roses, you know?" "That light thingie? He's fragile like a blade of grass. I bet if I dare to lay down in the garden he'd become a stain on my dress. Also, if he's so brave why isn't he in the forest, why doesn't he just keep fighiting?" "He's an exile, he no longer knows the comfort of a border. He's devoted to the rain, cause he sees himself and his destiny in the clouds. A new Queen would save him. But he doesn't want to be saved!" The Spirit of O'Reilly got pretty mouthy with sadness. Elizabeth recognized some of the distinctive features of elder Mr O'Reilly and the hardness of Mrs O'Reilly too. A weird mix of both personality traits. Elizabeth sipped the infusion, this time fully enjoying the aroma of freshly picked flowers. She felt her body tossing in her sleep.. she didn't want to wake right now. O'Reilly spirit stared at her then nodded as a farewell. When she opened her eyes, the Spirit's last words were echoing in her head, filling the heart with an odd hope "a new Queen.." she repeated to herself. She could have sworn to feel the wildflowers taste on the tip of her tongue.

To Be Continued...

Ita version

Il regno delle rose e dei sogni

"Non disturbarli, ragazza mia. Sei stata fortunata che abbiano preso con umorismo la tua piccola trappola! In qualche modo devono aver trovato la tua provocazione uno spasso!" "Signor O'Reilly, cosa è successo in questa valle per cui tutti mi mettono in guardia da loro" Ci fu un lungo silenzio in cui il vecchio sorseggiò il suo Whiskey, rigorosamente torbato del Connemara. "Sweetheart, ne potresti sentire un bel pò giù al pub. Ma in famiglia abbiamo già di che raccontare. Tu non lo hai mai conosciuto il cugino Billy. Beh, lui potrebbe dirti di quella volta che restò schiavo per una luna intera della regina delle fate Rosa Spinae." "Schiavo?" "Non ti stupire, sono anime antiche, concepiscono solo i rapporti che conoscono e per più di 1000 anni qui nella rocca c'era un conte e i suoi servi, non la capiscono questa faccenda moderna del vivere senza padroni, dove tutti sembrano uguali eccetera. Hanno una rigida gerarchia e puoi giurarci che se continui a dargli spago ti daranno il bel servito, come fu per il vecchio Billy" "Cosa fece Billy per la regina?" "A quel tempo Billy si sarebbe dannato l'anima per riempirsi il bicchiere, ed è ai vizi che il buon popolo si appiglia. Quando una notte in un bosco la piccola schiera si imbattè in quel gigante, la regina ordinò che gli fosse portato un bicchiere del fiele degli spiriti, lui non se lo fece ripetere e lo trangugiò d'un fiato. Billy giurò che era il nettare liquoroso di tutti gli dei ormai dimenticati. La regina reclamò un pagamento e Billy la derise 'Io pagare te? Ma se posso metterti tranquillamente in tasca come una mora!' La regina non passò sopra quell'insolenza e il buon popolo lo legò a briglie invisibili che non potevano essere sciolte e quel che è peggio gli impose il voto dell'obbedienza per una luna intera. Di venne il destriero della regina, ma all'occorrenza la regina dava sfoggio di potere alle sue rivali, reclamando la lingua del gigante come poggiapiedi" "Non mi torna quel che dite, signore. Avevate detto che noi abbiamo potere sulla manifestazione delle fate e che dipendono dai nostri desideri" Il vecchio sorrise "Quale schiavitù potrebbe desiderare un uomo? Quella del suo bicchiere o della sua regina?" La ragazza capì che quella storia celava una metafora di redenzione e umiltà. Avevano questo di disorientante, i racconti del vecchio: non sapevi mai dove finiva il simbolo e cominciava l'aneddoto. "Comunque quando lo trovarono Billy era ricoperto di punture dalla vita in su. Disse che sul suo petto si era tenuto il ballo della corte delle Rosa Spinae, in cui ogni damigella ha per tacco una spina di un fiore e per gonna i suoi petali, ma per molti era solo caduto su un campo di ortiche" "Che storia strana. Ma io non sarei mai schiava di una regina così perfida. Perchè non si è ribellato, mi chiedo?" commentò lei "Il cigno non pesa sul suo lago, la briglia non pesa al suo cavallo, né l'anima sull'uomo che la possiede" cantilenò l'uomo, facendo spallucce.

Quella notte scrisse una piccola nota in gaelico che lasciò davanti al davanzale. Diceva soltanto: "Voglio conoscervi. Venitemi a trovare", lasciò una zolletta di zucchero in dono. Si rigirava nel letto inquieta, nella speranza che il messaggio arrivasse a destinazione, e come spesso accade il sonno arrivò come un deliquio, senza preavviso. Si ritrovò in un luogo che non aveva mai visto prima d'ora. Una specie di antica cucina, senza finestre, mattoni rossi tutt'intorno, carta da parati di cartone con le sembianze di un giardino davano più respiro alla stanza. Fuori il rumore della pioggia era pesante e svuotato della sensazione di conforto che regala agli animi malinconici. Individuava negli oggetti della stanza una combinazione di cose minuscole. Le sedie erano piccoli cubetti di legno, appartenuti a qualche antico gioco. così come il tavolo. Non erano per nulla comodi, ma i pezzi di stoffa imbottita e cucita grossolanamente davano sollievo alla seduta. Uno specchietto da beauty asserviva alla funzione di vassoio sul quale erano poggiate tazzine che potevano provenire da un servizio da the in miniatura per bambole di porcellana, un pò sbeccato, ma grazioso a vedersi. La zolletta che aveva donato stava su un lato del ripiano di legno, con una specie di punteruolo conficcato al suo centro. La ragazza capì che era un sogno, ma aveva qualcosa di reale. "E' un sogno, questo?" "Certo, ragazzina" Rispose la voce di un uomo di mezza età dall'esterno. La porticina della cucina non era che un pezzo di serranda di ferro, l'uomo entrò con in mano dei legnetti rilegati e un secchiello d'acqua, avvolto in un impermeabile di tela. Poggiò l'occorrente a lato della porta, le sopracciglia cespugliose gli conferivano un'aria severa e le mani vissute, una saggezza artigianale. Appese l'insolito impermeabile sulla testa di un cavallo di scacchiera, che evidentemente fungeva da appendiabiti. La ragazza era paralizzata e si stringeva nella sua camicia da notte, non per il freddo, l'atmosfera era calda nonostante il rifugio sembrasse improvvisato, erano le pareti laterali di mattone ad emanare calore, ma avvertiva un senso di vulnerabilità che la faceva chiudere a riccio. L'uomo si premurò di accendere il fuoco in un buco del mattone e di riempire la teiera sospesa sul paiolo sostenuto da una corda e un ago, dalla capocchia ornata da una manigliuola. "Vieni più vicino alla luce del fuoco, ragazzina!" Aveva una voce roca e il tono presentava un cipiglio ingiustificato agli occhi di lei. "Si può sapere perchè mi trovo qui?" L'uomo la squadrò come a darle della matta, poi con un cenno del capo fece notare che la tavola era apparecchiata sul suo frammento di pergamena "Voglio conoscervi", riconobbe la ragazza. La sua scrittura. "Ma.. siete.. siete Tuvia?!" Dopo un attimo di silenzio, in cui l'uomo la fissava per cogliere in lei la sincerità della sua domanda, scoppiò in una fragorosa risata "AHAHAH Io? Quell'uccell di bosco di Tuvia!? Ho l'aria da piovano, io? Ti credevo sveglia ma se queste sono le premesse.." La ragazza non sembrava aver apprezzato l'umorismo dell'omino "Allora signore.. avete forse raccolto un messaggio non rivolto a voi!? Come vi permettete di interferire con la mia Corrispondenza!" "Corrispondenza? Senti dolcezza, cosa pensi che abbiamo il servizio postale in quel di Bluebell? Noi ai fogli d'albero diamo ben altro valore. Non lo sprechiamo per messaggi futili e sconsiderati." "Chi diavolo siete voi e che ci fate nei miei sogni?" "E' così che ci si incontra noi, la prima volta! Non accettiamo inviti dagli sconosciuti" La teiera cominciava a scoppiettare sul fuoco, le bolle di vapore avevano un aspetto cupolare e un suono più cupo del normale, dovevano essere quelle dimensioni a rendere ogni rumore anche il più familiare totalmente estraneo e inquietante. Nella stanza cominciò a diffondersi un odore di fiori che proveniva dall'infuso. "Come vi chiamate?" "Che razza di domanda è? Sono lo spirito protettore degli O'Reilly, quindi mi chiamo come loro" "Gli spiriti protettori portano il nome della famiglia?" Non rispose, sembrava un pò scocciato dalla retoricità delle domande, ma la ragazza aveva l'impressione che si sforzasse di essere gentile. Aveva messo in infusione una manciata di briciole di the e polline che raccoglieva da una bustina dilaniata come un sacchetto. Versò l'infusione nella tazzina che stava di fronte a lei. Staccò un paio di pezzi dalla zolletta per lei, sapeva persino come prendeva il the. "Ascolta ragazzina, noi spiriti della casa non parliamo più dello stretto necessario. Il nostro silenzio è la nostra invisibilità, quindi fammi andare al punto: Hai sentito cosa ha detto il buon vecchio O'Reilly stasera no? 'Non disturbare gli spiriti del bosco', lo ha detto per il tuo bene." Al sentirsi chiamare 'ragazzina' il tono della voce di lei si fece più risentito e squillante "Quindi oltre che profanatore di lettere, anche un origliatore maleducato" L'omino sospirò con enorme esercizio di pazienza "Non è come pensi.. non mi è possibile ignorare quello che succede entro queste mura, siamo nati dai sentimenti della famiglia che ha costruito questa casa. Se ti appaio in sogno è perchè questa famiglia si preoccupa per te" "il vostro sentimentalismo mi commuove" disse sarcasticamente, "ma sono pronta a scommettere che voi avete origliato per il semplice fatto che questo vostro rifugio si trova vicino al focolare" "Ti avverto ragazzina, non cercare di trovarlo, causeresti un dolore agli O'Reilly" "Dovevate pensarci prima di invitarmi qui, razza di stupido omino. E adesso datemi una buona ragione per cui questa 'ragazzina'" rimarcò la parola "non dovrebbe svegliarsi e venire a farvi fare la fine del topo" Sorseggiava la tazza di the adesso, fissando l'uomo con un sorriso imperioso, che non prometteva nulla di buono. "Ragioni? Se c'è qualcosa che so degli esseri umani è che la logica con voi non è persuasiva. Ho solo indicato la soglia da non varcare, ragazza mia, ma non era mia intenzione regalarvi la determinazione per attraversarla." "Il vostro consiglio non è richiesto" Incrociò le braccia. Calò un pò di gelo tra i due. Il sadismo giovanile di lei aveva fatto affiorare al viso del vecchio uno sguardo triste, leggermente rassegnato. "Come faccio a svegliarmi?" "Non ti preoccupare, presto sarai sul tuo letto, bambina. Voi avrete pur il controllo dei momenti di veglia, ma noi abbiamo la nostra rivincita nei sogni e sei fortunata che non abbiamo la vostra stessa crudeltà. Comunque.. se non posso dissuaderti, sarò il tuo messaggero e un giorno, forse, ti porterò da lui." disse quasi burbero "Quasta poi.. volevate sabotarmi e adesso vorreste anche farmi da guida" "La foresta di Bluebell si basa su un fragile equilibrio, il custode di quell'equilibrio, la Regina delle Rose, non ama l'invadenza umana, specie da una che le somiglia così tanto" "Io... somiglierei alla Regina?" Ignorò ancora quelle domande che avevano la stessa arguzia dell'eco di un pozzo. "Tuvia l'ha combattuta, sai.. la Corte delle Rose Spinae." "Quel cosino? Ma se è fragile come un filo d'erba. Scommetto che se mi stendessi in giardino, potrebbe diventare una macchia sul mio vestito. Se è così coraggioso, poi, perchè non è nella foresta a combattere?" "Lo vedi in giardino perchè è un esule e non conosce più la comodità di un confine. Si è consacrato alla pioggia, perchè si riconosce nelle nuvole. Una nuova regina.. questo lo salverebbe. E lui.. non vuole essere salvato!" Lo spirito degli O'Reilly con la tristezza si era fatto stranamente loquace, riconosceva qualcosa nel vecchio in lui, aveva la stessa dolcezza sotto una scorza dura che era più simile a quella della signora O'Reilly, uno strano mix. Elizabeth sorseggiò quell'infuso, stavolta godendone appieno l'aroma. Era come di tiglio. Avvertì che si stava agitando nel sonno. Non voleva svegliarsi proprio ora. Lo spirito degli O'Reilly la fissava e con un cenno del capo sembrò quasi accomiatarsi. Quando riaprì gli occhi sul suo letto, le ultime parole dello Spirito riecheggiavano ancora nelle sue orecchie riempiendola di non so quale speranza.. "Una nuova regina", si ripeteva. Poteva giurare di sentire ancora il sapore di tiglio sulla punta della lingua.

wHO MADE A FIGHITING GAME WITH MEGATRON AND OPTIMUS IN IT FGVSFAAFW

Humans are Dangerous

So I was thinking about this whole aliens thing, and i remembered a post about aliens not being able to throw, and are very surprised at how a human could throw a wad paper into the trash can. I’m sorry its not linked, I couldn’t find it.

Anyways. I was thinking, maybe aliens cant aim? Just like, everything they do is in close contact, fighting, playing sports, exercising, whatever aliens do. Whenever they fight, the aliens with canons that actually hit their opponents are thought to be some amazing super race.

And then, humans come in. These bags of flesh who dont seem to be able to survive the conditions of their homeland. And then one casually throws a wad of paper into a bin a good 30 feet away. Of course, the aliens thought it was luck, that the humans hand just spasmed, and everyone was fine with that explanation.

Until humans joined into some war. Suddenly, no one was safe. Humans can be immense distances from their target and still hit. Ships with canons aren’t viewed as a bounty that no one else has, rather, a ship without one is useless; a resort ship.

Humans bring sports that involve aim, like basketball, football, soccer, badminton, tennis, practically everything! Archery and shooting ranges are fun spots to test your accuracy, available to the country! Even the games their children play, throwing water ballons, frisbees, the carnival games for gods sake!

And this is what causes the fear for aliens when they are in an area humans may are, or have, been. Humans can kill them out of their eyesight, untraceable.

Aim, such a small thing, aim, caused aliens to want humans when fighiting, would do anything for them, the humans becoming tyrants, the universe their tyranny, without even knowing, as humans are completely oblivious to everything.

Sorry for the run on sentences, I ramble a lot.

Romanian people who changed the world (and you probably didn’t even know it)

So y’all the first of December is Romania’s birthday!! Well, in simple terms that is, cause what actually happened on the first of December was our Great Union, which finally brought together all of the Romanian territories to form this great(ly overlooked) country. And that happened 100 years ago today!!

To celebrate (and because I am actually an insomniac), I’ve decided to present to you a list of Romanian people who have changed the world, even if just a little bit, cause they actually deserve it and honestly most of them were/are, y’know, pretty okay people who were/are doing their best. So let’s get to this history lesson!! (In no particular order)

1. Ioan Cantacuzino, who was a physician and bacteriologist and who made tremendous progress in his fields of study, leading to treatments for cholera, epidemic typhus, scarlet fever, and tuberculosis. He was also the one who invented the notion of contact immunity. His method of anti-choleric vaccinating is still used where cases of cholera appear.

2. Nicolae Păulescu, who was a physiologist and a professor of medicine and actually the first to discover insulin. There was a whole controversy with the Nobel Prize committee who awarded the prize to those two Canadians, even though Păulescu published his discovery almost two years before that. (We, as a people, are still pretty mad about that but it’s okay, cause Nic here was kind of a dick with his antisemitic views, even though he was great in his field of study.)

3. Henri Coandă, who was an inventor and pioneer in the field of aerodynamics, who built the experimental aircraft the Coandă-1910, which was described as the world’s first jet. It’s controversial, and the opinions are divided, but nonetheless Henri here also discovered an effect of fluid dynamics named after him, the Coandă effect. He also built other aircrafts, invented a new decorative material for use in construction, named beton-bois, developed a device to detect liquids under ground, useful in petroleum prospecting, and designed a flying saucer.

4. Ana Aslan, who was a biologist and a physician, and who discovered the anti-aging effects of procaine, based on the drugs Gerovital H3 and Aslavital, which she developed. She was a pioneer of geriatrics and gerontology, and she founded the Geriatric Institute of Bucharest in 1952, the first of its kind in the world. She is actually the mother of Gerovital. She also went on a hunger strike to convince her family to let he go to college for medicine.

5. Traian Vuia, who was an inventor and aviation pioneer and who designed, built and tested the first tractor monoplane. He was the first to demonstrate that a flying machine could rise into the air by running on wheels on an ordinary road. He was basically the first human who managed to fly in a machine heavier than air, and he did that in 1906. (If you search the Vuia I and Vuia II y’all are in for a treat, those planes look fucking ridiculous it’s amazing.)

6. Constantin Brâncuși, who was a sculptor, painter and photographer, and a pioneer of modernism. He’s considered one of the most influential sculptors of the 20th century, and was called the patriarch of modern sculpture. He was an incredibly talented human and just overall did amazing work for the art community.

7. George Emil Palade, who was a cell biologist, described as the most influential cell biologist ever, and who laid the foundations of the modern molecular cell biology. He was awarded a Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine (along with Albert Claude and Christian de Duve) for his innovations in electron microscopy and cell fractionation. His most notable discovery were the ribosomes and the endoplasmatic reticulum, which he first described in 1955.

8. Nadia Comăneci, who was the first gymnast in the world to be awarded a perfect 10.0 at the Olympic Games. She is a five-time Olympic gold medalist, all in individual events, and is now retired. She still is one of the most influential gymnasts of all times, and in 2000 she was named as one of the Athletes of the 20th Century by the Laureus World Sports Academy.

9. Emil Racoviță, who was a biologist, zoologist, speleologist, and explorer, and who was the first biologist in the world to study the arctic life. He was the first Romanian to have gone on a scientific research expedition to the Antarctic, and the first researcher to collect botanical and zoological samples from areas beyond the Antarctic Circle (the results of his research were published in 1900). He was also one of the founders of the field of biospeleology, and he explored over 1400 caves in different European countries.

10. Petrache Poenaru, who was an inventor of the Enlightenment era, and who invented the world’s first fountain pen, which was patented in 1827. He was also a mathematician, physicist, engineer, teacher, as well as a agronomist and zootechnologist.

11. Anastase Dragomir, who was an inventor, and who invented and patented the “catapultable cockpit”, an early form of an ejection seat, in 1929.

12. Elisa Leonida Zamfirescu, who, in 1912, became one of the first female engineers in the world. She was at first rejected at an University in Bucharest, because she was a woman, but then went to Germany for studies.

13. Sarmiza Bilcescu, who was the first woman in the world to receive a doctorate in law. She graduated from Law School in Paris is 1890, becoming a doctor in law.

14. Sofia Ionescu-Ogrezeanu, who was a neurosurgeon, one of the first female neurosurgeons in the world. While she was an intern at a hospital in Bucharest, in 1944, she was forced to perform an emergency brain surgery on an injured boy due to lack of sufficient medical staff, during the bombing in Bucharest.

15. Vlad Țepeș, or Vlad Drăculea (hell yeah he’s making the list, my boy Vlad didn’t protect this damn country from the Ottoman Empire for him to just be reduced to this ridiculous vampire persona Stoker created), was a voievod of Wallachia who reigned three times between 1448 and 1476, when he died. He was a member of the Order of the Dragon, where he got the moniker “Dracul” (literally devil in Romanian), and during his rule he was known to be incredibly harsh in his punishments, to discourage any law breaking that was taking place. He also took revenge on the boyars who participated in his father’s and older brother’s murder, who he suspected were also plotting against him. One of his favorite methods of punishment was impaling people (in Romanian “a trage în țeapă”), and there is a story about a cup made from solid gold that stood at a fountain, but nobody dared steal for fear of what would happen to them if Vlad caught them. While his punishments were harsh, it is noted by historians from several sources that “only such cruel acts could secure public order in Wallachia”. He died in battle, fighiting against the Ottomans, and his grave still remains undiscovered.

Other notable Romanians include: Sebastian Stan (y’all know who that is), Anastasia Soare (founder of Anastasia Beverly Hills), Mario Bădescu (Mario Badescu cosmetics), Grigore Antipa (invented the diorama), Ștefan Odobleja (a precursor of modern cybernetics), Marcel Iureș (actor, starred in Mission Impossible, Interview with a vampire, The peacemaker etc), Maria Lucia Hohan (fashion designer), Mircea Eliade (historian and writer of A History of Religious Ideas), George Enescu (famous composer, pianist, violinist, and conductor), Angela Gheorghiu (famous opera singer), Simona Halep (currently number one WTA), Elie Wiesel (Jewish Romanian-American writer and Nobel Peace Prize winner), Eugene Ionesco (Romanian-French playwright), Radu Lupu (one of the greatest contemporary pianists in the world), Adrian Ghenie (contemporary painter), Ilie Năstase (famous tennis player), and the list goes on and on and on.

So here you have it people, a list of Romanians who changed the world, as best they could, with the little they had. Y’all can come yell with me or at me concerning any of these people, you’re all welcome!!!! Hope that you maybe learned some new history stuff today, cause I sure did while I researched this.

Happy Birthday to this mediocre country that I call home!!!! To many more years and hopefully to more good progress!! La mulți ani, România!!

14, 25, 37, 53.

14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

about a week ago

25. role model

umm, idk

37. favourite actor/actress

Eva Green, Harrison Ford, Idris Elba

53. 5 things that make me happy

fighiting games, comics, small animals, godzilla, tokusatsu stuff

Day 21: Did you ever finish AoD? If so, how did you feel when you finished it? If not, in which level did you give up?

Yes, I finished playing AoD. However, I have to admit that it was not earlier then 3 or 4 years back. Boaz was giving me hard time, until the magic called the internet helped me to find out that there’s the bloody 'switch target’ button. :D

For a long time it bugged me (no pun intended) that I cannot finish my most beloved game. Of course I knew everything what happened after Boaz because I did not give up completely. I cheated and used some patches and save files to skip the Boaz fight. *innocent look*  So technically, I finished the game all those years back, only without having to fight Boaz. At least I was spared the torture of Kurtis being impaled. ;) To a certain extent, I did not avoid it completely as I saw the videos on the internet and ... the pain was not easier, I can tell you.

Since my full victory in the game, I’ve played it many times and Boaz still gets on my nerves, like a pro :D I only endure all this with respect to Kurtis (and because it is always nice to see his ass when playing his levels).

And how did I feel?

When I found out what really happened to Kurtis (I was like 13), I cried like a baby. I kept telling my father: ‘’DAAAAD, THEY KILLED HIM!!! TELL ME HE’LL COME BACK SOMEHOW!’’ Poor dad, he had to endure an endless mouring of a teenage girl (morever when I was so in love with Kurt). And when it came to the conclusion there will be no sequel and TR was handed to Crystal Dynamics... I was emotinally down, sad, immensely dissapointed and betrayed. Seeing Kurtis being deadly wounded was the worst that could happen in this fantastic storyline. Worse than Lara being killed because they would not let her die, not after resurrecting her, I was so sure of it.

So knowing I will never ever see them reunited, fighiting an evil together, teasing each other with some sassy quotes and seemingly unwanted grope of their bodies... that I will never know if they won against the Cabal and Nephilim.... That was the moment I felt really crushed.

13 years later (coming to the 14th) and the anger and sadness is not less torturing. It gets even worse sometimes because every replaying of that game has more devastating effect on me.

From the last moment in AoD when Lara Croft smilled with the Chirugai in hand, turned to enter that tunnel to find Kurtis, we no longer saw anything of her. Lara Croft vanished and we can only remember what it was like when Tomb Raider was Tomb Raider.

Skullgirls Memories: when this tournament match got on stream, I remember people started it calling it the “Purple and Chill” from then onwards lmao.

Here’s the same match but from the tournament’s archive!