csyphrett

I don't know if this is the right thread but the appeals court has denied the DOJ's dismissal of charges against Mike Flynn. Apparently they got a bureaucrat who never saw the inside of a court to sign the paperwork, and the judge involved is like no, so they tried to go over his head, and the appeals panel was like no. Bill Barr is the dirtiest cop around CES

jeff sessions helped intro asset forfeiture. he fit right in with the trump doj until he didnt CES

Lapsed Gamer used to post things about police events when he was on the boards. I miss that. CES

That's cool and all but Chicago PD broke into an office and turned it into their personal bar while there was rioting going on. I have dealt with the Sheriff's Department most of the time I have been working here, and I know they wouldn't do that. I showed a LT a newspaper story where the local police raided the wrong house and arrested a guy for dropping a mushroom on the floor. He asked me how long was the original target gone from the address. I was like a month. He shook his head. They had to shoot a guy two months ago. Never once did I doubt that the SO did the wrong thing. I see a guy standing on someone's neck because he wanted to and I know that guy was a piece of crap. It doesn't matter to me what anybody else says about their relatives, fellow police, the president. All that matters is at no point should anybody be standing on a guy's neck, and any defense is either stupid, or evil. CES

I would like to draft the boskone war and carnivorous tribbles CES

They are supposed to be for violent drug offenders who might fight back if given a chance. So instead of knocking on the door and announcing yourself like you should, you knock the door down and charge in. The problem is if the citizen being raided is armed, then busting into their house provokes self defense which ends up in shooting. They tried to get a guy in Texas once and it turned out they raided the wrong house, the detective lied about the activity, and no one had realized where the home owner was when they threw in the flash bangs. And he shot up three or four guys on the raid team. They charged him with murder, and he basically sued the county for false arrest and attempted murder of himself and won. You literally do not have to have a no knock warrant for most of the cases that they are being used for because they aren't hitting fortified crack houses in the middle of the urban jungle CES

At the time it was unclear. The manager thought that they didn't know each other because of the number of employees. I was like they knew each other because they are doing the same job, even if it's just a wave or something. Now Floyd's coworkers are like yeah, they actively had words in the street CES

Episode element three is an infestation of fairies granting wishes. Think of a crowd of Fairly Odd Parents just bringing in anything anybody says CES

It's come out that Floyd and Chauvin knew each other and argued about Chauvin's use of force at the club they worked at as security. Floyd's family is asking for Murder one and everything that implies CES

Anybody up for a game of Frogger? What gets me is the heron or crane just standing out there in gator land, going come get me CES

I would like to pick the fast growing vines from Jumanji CES

This is the only thing I could find from a quick google search where the police arrested doctors and first aid workers in minneapolis for breaking curfew which they were exempt from. https://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/931744 One of the things posted was a guy complaining that he was helping someone who had been hurt away from the protests and the police opened up with rubber bullets and shot him and the person he was helping. CES

Word is coming in that the police are shooting at providers of first aid at the protests. Good job, police. I thought you were supposed to give first aid, not block it. CES

i would like to pick traveler Wesley Crusher as my first episode element CES

1) Players completely dislike and will not play in a game where Player Characters are captured. 2) Players completely dislike and will not play in a game where enemies and villains return after the players thought they were dead. 3) Players completely dislike and will not play in a game where captured villains escape or get released from prison. 4) Players completely dislike and will not play in a game where the villain will threaten innocents with death or dismemberment to force the PC to allow them to escape or capture the PC’s. 5) Players completely dislike and will not play in a game where an NPC friend/subordinate will turn out to be a betrayer or enemy. I don't think I have ever had a problem with any of these as a player, and I have used most of these as a GM and never had a complaint. The biggest complaints I have had as a player is lack of options from the GM. Some GMs I have dealt with are Poof, you're captured with no chance to get away. Don't like that. Don't like you should be playing your character this way, instead of the way you are playing. Don't like having to solo villains that are bigger than I am on the power scale, and then have to hear complaints from the GM. Don't like soloing the villain, and the GM says you didn't actually solo the villain which is different from number two because the villain didn't die because the GM said your wave motion gun that shoots through buildings only left a scratch. Did any of that make sense? CES

I usually throw these in my supers campaign like the heroes used a house like the house from Mystic Masters as their base, they dealt with expeditions into the Underworld, and genetic scientists (sometimes the same guy over multiple campaigns) likes to use Pickachu as a guard dog/ enforcer. CES

This is sort of an aside, but I remember getting tired of reading harry bosch because in every book at least one of the other cops was the villain, or had done something wrong. Now I am thinking Connelly was underselling how bad the LAPD actually is. CES

I believe so. CES

The Flight of the Rocket Man 4 Saxon woke up in his bed. He stared at the ceiling. He went over the memory from the night before. He had flown across Nevada in ten minutes. Nothing human could do that. What had that meteor done to him? Could he still do it? He looked at the palm of his hand. The three squares and circle were there. He could still fly. Did he want to? He rolled to his feet and put his shoes on. He went and washed his face. He had planned to camp over the weekend and go to work in the morning. He could spend the day checking out what else he could do. He needed a place to do that. He couldn’t do anything weird around his house. He wondered if the company had a place he could use to practice. He couldn’t think of any place off the top of his head. Maybe he could fly back to the camp and practice there. He thought about that. He would need to pack a lunch. His flight ability would need to be fed. He decided the first thing he needed to do was get some breakfast. He could review what he knew while he ate. Then he could pack some breakfast. After that, he could take off without letting his neighbors know about his new ability. Should he call Flanagan and tell him what had happened? The boss was smart. He might be able to duplicate the meteor back east. Saxon decided against it. He didn’t want to be a guinea pig being poked in a lab somewhere. He would rather be out and about. If he ran into trouble, he would call his boss then. Flanagan would want to minimize any exposure to the company. Some anger would also be involved. He hoped if it got bad enough to call his boss, he would be alive at the end of it. Hopefully Flanagan wouldn’t laugh at him in disbelief. Saxon made a heavy breakfast. Flying burned up a lot of personal energy. He had to be ready for that. Loading up ahead of time seemed to be called for until he had a grasp on how much he actually had to eat. And if he really didn’t need that much, he could cut back. He ate in silence as he went over the night before. He had been struck by what he had thought was a meteor, but now he wasn’t so sure. His camping gear was wrecked and buried where no one could find it. He had flown home, back to camp, drove home, and then flew to Nevada. Maybe it had been a dream. He looked at his windows and noticed they were cracked. How had that happened? What had he done? How many windows had he broken with his experiments last night? He definitely needed to use his power away from others until he was sure what had happened. Had he accidentally killed someone activating his power and taking off? He pushed his plate away at the thought. Saxon decided that he was afraid to check on his neighbors to make sure they were all right. He leaned away from the table. He had never thought his ability would hurt anyone. What should he do? He decided the best thing he could do was go outside and check the neighborhood. Maybe only his windows had been broken. Then he could worry about his neighbors, and making sure they were all right. He wondered what had broken his windows. Maybe something in the way he moved through the air had done it. Maybe some kind of pressure wave went with his flight power. He thought about being a human sized rocket flying as fast as a bullet. Would that be enough to crack windows whenever he really took off? He hated that he broke his windows. They would be a pain to fix with his work hours. Saxon stepped out in his back yard. He noted his shovel leaning against the wall of the house. A spot of blasted ground marked where he had launched. He would have to remember that in the future. He walked around the back of the house. Every window in the back of the house had cracks running through them. He had been lucky none of them had been knocked out of the frames. Still he would have to replace all six of them. That was a big expense. “Hey, Frank!,” called Maury Chadwick from the yard next door. The older man waved a hand to indicate where he stood in his own yard. He wore his Sunday best for morning services. “Did you hear the booms last night?” “I got in late,” said Saxon. “What booms?” “There these big booms like close thunder,” said Maury. “I think there were two of them. They woke me up.” “I didn’t hear anything,” said Saxon. He pointed at his windows. “My windows are broken. What about yours?” “They seem all right,” said Maury. “I’ll take a look at them when I get back.” “I have some things to take care of,” said Saxon. “If you hear any more booms, let me know.” “What do you think was going on?,” asked Maury. “I have no idea,” said Saxon. “If you get one, let me know,” said Maury. “I don’t like fireworks being shot off so close to the house.” “I’ll let you know if I see anything,” said Saxon. He waved at the man. Then he walked back into his house. Saxon walked to his kitchen table. He rubbed his face with his hands. He created those booms when he launched. How many windows had he broken shooting out of his neighborhood for his test runs? He shook his head. He could definitely fly faster than a speeding bullet on one of his long hauls. He doubted he could dodge one coming right at him. Could he dodge a bullet in midflight? How fast were his reflexes? Was this something he wanted to test out? He decided that he didn’t want to find out if he could catch a bullet in his hand, dodge a bullet, or outrun one in the air. Those kinds of tests were more trouble than what they were worth. And he didn’t like the thought that if his reflexes weren’t fast enough, he would catch a bullet for his pains. Saxon threw the rest of his cold breakfast away, washed the plate off, and set it in the plastic drying rack. He cleaned and dried the skillet before putting it on the stove. He put together two sandwiches, noting he didn’t have a lot left in his refrigerator. He was going to have shop when he got done for the day. He could do that. He looked at the palm of his hand. He had three buttons. All three together allowed him flight and a navigation system of sorts. He had three single pushes, and three double pushes. Once he had those down, he would know everything he could do. Then he could start thinking about testing limits. And he knew he couldn’t launch from his backyard any more. The sonic booms of his flight would tell everyone in the neighborhood who was breaking their windows as he headed out of town. He couldn’t afford to fix every broken window around him. He wrapped his sandwiches in paper and put them in his lunchbox. He went out to his car. He put the tin container on the floorboard on the passenger side before getting behind the wheel. He pulled out of his driveway and headed south to the company parking lot. That would be just as good a place to leave his car as any. He couldn’t leave his car at home because his neighbors would want to know why he wasn’t answering the door. He didn’t want to leave it in public view as he flew around. The lot would be empty, no one would be at the factory, and the asphalt would take his launch better than the grass in his backyard. The rest of the week the place would be going full blast and if he wanted to fly somewhere, he would have to find some other launch point away from people. Saxon pulled his car into a slot next to the building. He looked around as he got out. No one could see his car from the road as far as he could tell. He might be wrong. He shrugged. If someone saw it and reported it to the cops, he would deal with it when he got back from the camp site. He grabbed his lunch pail out of the car and walked out of sight from the main gate. He looked around to make sure he was alone. He pressed the three buttons for flight and launched into the air. He summoned the marker for his camp and rocketed north from Idaville. He thought he would touchdown in a couple of minutes. He spiraled down into the trees and pulling up into a hovering position. He checked the clock on the palm of his hand. He still had minutes before his flight wore off. He wondered why the power didn’t have an off switch. You would think that would be something installed to keep people from overusing the power and burning themselves out. He waited the time out, dropping down to the grass when the jets erupting from his back cut off. He smiled. What else could he do? It took Saxon a few hours to figure out each combination. Most of that was waiting for the power to wear off, and then for the buttons to get active again. He had a floating mode that wasn’t quite flight, but allowed him to move along solid surfaces without problems. He had a jet punch that allowed him to push things away from him as long as it wasn’t too heavy. When he combined the two buttons, he had a skiing effect and he could fling himself through the air at will. The third button just highlighted things for him. Combined with either of the other two, it gave him arrows of direction, and highlighted things he could shoot with his jet punch. He ate his two sandwiches and wished he had thought to bring something to drink. Experimenting was thirsty business. He smiled. He could fly down to the general store he had passed coming up to the park and get something to drink. He already knew he could fly the distance in the time he was given by each power activation. He also felt like his power wouldn’t go away unless he was hurt too much to use it. He didn’t want to test how tough he was by ramming something. That was just asking for some crippling injury. The last thing he wanted was to hurt himself and be taken to the hospital. He didn’t want any doctor probing his insides and wondering why his body was different from a normal human’s. Was his body different than a normal human’s? He realized he didn’t want to know. He shook his head at himself. He did all this testing, and now he was scared to have an x-ray and a blood test. He decided that normal medicine couldn’t tell him what had happened, and until it became enough of a science that it could read everything about him with a machine, he could do without any testing, or dissection. He had a general working knowledge of the basic effects of his talent. Now he needed a way to use it without causing any problems for himself. He couldn’t think of anything except for going overseas and doing spy runs over German territory. And when he thought of that, he couldn’t think of any way to present himself and his powers and keep his personal freedom from the government. The Department of War would want to know everything about him, and if they could duplicate his ability without keeping him around. He didn’t see living his life under the constant scrutiny of faceless men as being a net gain. He decided he needed to get that drink. Then he could use a bit more food. Then he had to pick up his car and head home and think about fixing his windows. He had never considered how fast he could be until he saw those cracks. Imagine doing that with just flying in the air. He activated his flight and headed out of the park. He realized it was better to pick up his car and get something to drink on the way home. There was no point stopping, waiting out his time limit, and then starting again when he could reach his car, wait until the time limit passed and drive the rest of the way home. At the very least, he could save himself money on gas flying back and forth to work.

Grady Shorn is The Borrower. He is naturally six inches tall, but can borrow height from those around him, shrinking them in the process. CES

Thanks for the idea CES

They didn't quit the job. They just quit their specialty. Essentially they went from beating up old people under special circumstances to beating up old people while on patrol. Again I would rather they just quit period, or do what the British used to do and take a pistol with one bullet and a shot of bourbon to an empty office somewhere. These are adults. If they can't see what they are doing is wrong, then they don't need to be police. CES

They didn't quit the police force, just their unit. I would rather they quit the police force altogether. Let other people have a shot. CES

The ship is able to touch adjacent multiverses at the same time allowing to exist in more than one universe/dimension at the same time. CES

As head of security, Kinnison is in charge of the marines and vipers. How can I use this to my advantage? I can't think of anything off hand. CES