Helen and I need to know, can you buy beer and/or liquor in convenience stores in California?

Thanks!
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

OK, I'll admit, I got a little lax with a few safety precautions.

Oh, no, nothing quite like that. I believe wholeheartedly in my friend Myk's courses that teach Handwavium Safety to everyone. After all, I'm the one who came up with half of them, like the full body rubber suit and rebreather.

To give you a little background, it was something like one month into the first expansion of my company, the Jupiter Mining Corporation. Yes, OK, I know, it's not really a mining company, but bear with me.

It was Geo, Nene, and I in Starbug 1, flying back from checking on the building of the spaceframes that would be our first six Blue Midgets. Myk had stayed behind at the shipyard to give some of the Trekkies a little bit of Space Safety and Handwavium training. Hey, they're willing to pay, they're safety conscious, and Myk honestly loves his work when he can do it. Anyway, it was the three of us. I was just sitting in the copilot's seat, plinking away with an old copy of Video Olympics on the little monitor, while Nene was sitting back doing surfing or hacking, I've learned to never ask which for the sake of deniability. I felt rather than heard Nene sit up a bit at her station.

"Hey, Jeph." I closed off the game of somewhat Pong. "Yeah, Nene?"

"I'm picking up some sort of signal. It's weak, though. I think you should hear it." I sighed.

"OK, but this had better not be another Rick Roll. If it is, I'd like you to tell Trigon about it."

"I'd rather not if it is. But here you go." She tugged out the connector of her headphones, and the signal came over the loudspeaker. Dit Dit Dit. Dat. Dat. Dat. Dit. Dit. Dit.

OK, now even before I became a ham, I'd had it drilled into me exactly what that signified. Especially as it repeated the pattern. Again. And again.

"Nene, get a lock on that signal for me."

"Already done. Two kilometers at 10am, 1pm." To the left, and up a bit from our current course.

"Call ahead to Serenity Valley, let the Coats there know we're going to be a little late, then see if you can get the nearest Blazers asset to meet us there, just in case. I'm going to take us to full burn." I pulled back on the throttle, and aimed the general nose of the 'Bug in the indicated direction. Nene had already pulled out her Interwave phone and started making calls out.
It didn't take us very long to catch up with the source of the signal, thankfully. A small, beat up little station wagon, with the hazard lights blinking, but fitfully. I had a start in my throat as I recognized it.

"Hey, that's Zeb's car. I thought he was on his way to Mars?"

"So did I. Geo, get on the grav hook, and open the landing bay. We'll bring him in gently."

We swung around, cutting our velocity to match that of the tumbling wagon, and Geo carefully brought the car into our little bay at the back, wheels down to the deck.

As soon as I could lock off the controls, I ran down to the little hangar. The wagon didn't look like it was in that bad of shape, but the figure inside didn't look quite so good, not the way he was slumped against the driver's door. It didn't look like there was anything like a sudden maneuver that had knocked him out, which meant he might've had a problem with his air, but it was hard to tell with him still inside the car, and his spacesuit all sealed up. Nene came up behind me as I laid out my plan in my head.

"Nene, get the medkit from the storage locker, I'll get in there and check on him." She nodded, opening the locker next to the pressure hatch, and I went over, checked the door lock pillar to make sure the door wasn't locked, and opened the door. Some say that you have your life flash before your eyes when you face your own death. My experience is that it's more a sense of impressions of the moment you're in. I had to review the tape (and it was a rather distressingly surreal experience) to fill in the gaps. I do recall the body slumping as the door opened, the big red jagged hole in the back of it, the red upholstery that wasn't from the color of the fabric, and the plate falling away from something in the passenger seat that had been held by Zeb's body.
Then I slumped against the side of Cerulean Edge, clutching at several steel rebars that had pierced my body. I could hear Nene screaming, and I felt giddily warm, but I was certainly aware I was in trouble. She was grabbing at my shoulders, obviously wanting to pull the rods out yet knowing that would be a bad idea.

"N... ne... nene... kit... please..." I coughed, liquidly. She nodded, and grabbed the kit up.

"g... gr... green... b... blech... i...in... haler..." She opened the kit, spilling much of it all over the deck, and into the pool of blood that was starting to spread around me.

The object she got out was a fairly new thing I'd worked on. It looked like one of those typical asthma emergency inhalers, only painted a flourescent green that literally did glow in the dark. Contained inside the bottle was a liquified form of Guacamole. The bottle itself was made to spray the entirety of its cargo, rather than one small squirt. It was enough to cause a biomod in any person who breathed it in who wasn't already modded.

She pulled it out, and uncapped the inhaler as she dropped the kit case to the deck. "Jeph, breathe out!" I breathed out, coughing and hacking as I could feel some blood come up my throat, and she plugged my nose and shoved the inhaler into my mouth, pressing it down to activate it. "OK, breathe in!" I sucked in air, through my mouth since my nose was pinched shut, and I could taste the lime of the koolaid base as I inhaled the contents of the bottle. Immediately I could feel the giddiness subsiding, and slightly less that something was utterly wrong, but there was a definite haze in my senses.

"G... get me up to the... to the... main room... and... and seal... seal off... hangar..." Nene nodded, looking very worried and tears in her eyes. She hauled me up bodily, and dragged me towards the door, even as I blacked out.

I woke up gently, laying at something of an angle on the futon in the common room. I couldn't feel any pain, nor any discomfort. I carefully levered myself up a bit, and looked around. There were several long iron rods laying on the floor next to the futon, and a diminishing trail of blood leading from the rear hatch towards the hangar to the futon. Nene was sacked out in the wingback, apparently watching over me. Geo was probably up in the cockpit piloting.

I glanced at the wall clock. I'd been unconscious for a good 16 hours.

"Geo... report..." I got myself all the way into a sitting position, and felt ravenous.

"<We're on route to Serenity Valley right now, Chief. I've got the hangar locked off, the Blue Blazer contingent will meet us there.>" There was a pause. "<Next time, let me fucking well go in there Chief. That was highly stupid given the current climate.>"

Nene fluttered awake, and almost instantly glomped me. "YOU'RE ALLRIGHT!!"

"apparently," I oofed out. She pressed me back against the futon, and ran a hand on my face, the concern and pain she was feeling etched very plainly on her face. Then she got a weird look. "No stubble."

I put a hand onto my face and checked. Surely enough, my face was baby smooth. I grabbed the PDA that I had left laying on the end table, and checked myself in the reflection off the screen. Yep. Absolutely babyfaced. I might as well be nineteen again by the reflection. I still had my longish hair, though, so that was at least something. But still, something was nagging me a bit.

"Hmm, well, that's something... I wonder if that's all it did to me." I put the PDA back down. "Uh, Nene, you can let me back up anytime now."

"Oops." She blushed, and stood back up almost too quickly. I pulled myself to my feet, and tested my balance, and looked myself over as best I could. The paunch I'd had was gone, which I wouldn't complain about, and I certainly didn't have any of the minor aches from bad posture. In fact, I felt like I was able to stand straight without forcing it.

"OK, now, I'm going to go and feed myself, because apparently the biomodding process has made me extremely hungry. Let me know when we land, and I'll prepare to meet the Blazers."

After I'd wolfed down what must've been three days of the ship's curry supplies, and one triple fried egg chili chutney sandwich to finish off, I felt considerably more normal, well, for my given value of Fen normal anyway.

The Blue Blazer contingent turned out to be one of the people in the group that met us, and at least one Operation Great Justice person besides. The entire meeting was a bit tense, and they did clue me in that it appeared to be some sort of deliberate Boskonian booby trap to catch the unwary. I tried hard not to get paranoid about the number of contracts we were set to get from the OGJ activities as I processed that. And I was advised to get a medical checkup to see how much of a biomod I'd received from my little medical emergency.
We did watch the tape from the hangar black box recorder. I shivered a little as we watched, and flinched when I got my facefull of steel shot at me. That moment impressed upon me how close I'd come indeed. One of the rods was in my neck, a few inches higher and I might not have even been savable by the guacamole.

After they left to take the evidence and such and compile it into a report, I settled onto the futon, and curled up into a fetal position for some time. Nene sat down next to me, and placed a hand on my shoulder, which I placed a hand back onto. It wasn't until she moved with an 'scuse me' that I realized there was someone else on board. Myk was standing over the futon, looking a little dumbstruck at the blood which we had yet to clean up. Rather belatedly I realized what it must be like in the hangar.

"Uh, Jeph? I hate to ask, even of you, but... what in the frell happened while I was out? There's blood in StarJumper's parking spot, all over your car, all over the airlock, and even tracked in here. Yes, I know, it's technically your ship, but I do live here too." He looked a little ill. "Please don't tell me you've picked up some sort of fetish I don't know about."

OK, so it was a rough day, so to speak, and I was a bit frazzled. And here he was asking, and I was getting a little excitable having already run over that territory with a couple of, well, complete strangers. I do admit I'm excitable sometimes, even though I know that barely mollifies Noah when I get like that around him.

"Okay we ran across Zeb's car only he was apparently in trouble because he had his hazards and emergency beacon going and we took him into the bay expecting to help him out only someone had already killed him and was using him as bait for some reason for the boobytrap they put in his passenger seat that went off in my face when I opened the door and it nearly killed me but Nene got the emergency inhaler and used it on me and now I'm at least better if just a LITTLE WIGGED OUT!" I spouted, getting more and more manic as I pressed through the explanation. It wasn't anger, or anything, just that I had lost something of control.

Yet, I felt something a little different that I couldn't place once I'd finished, and was panting a little bit. Myk looked a little awestruck, more so than he usually did.

"....hooookay. That certainly explains what I'm seeing that I've never seen you do during one of your episodes, if you used those little emergency guacamole things you'd cooked up." He didn't seem to be looking at me, at least, not into my eyes. "Wait, what the frack do you..." I sat back up, and suddenly realized there was a new sensation.

I jiggled.

Now, understand, I wasn't in the greatest of shape before, I had a little bit of flab here and there that would jiggle.

But this was different.

I looked down at myself.

Gee, my tshirt looks like it's rather filled out.

No, not just rather filled out.

I put a hand on the sides, and squeezed.

"Uh... excuse me..." I dashed up the stairway to the cabins, and jumped into the fresher booth. Closing the door, I grabbed the hem of my shirt, and not sparing myself, yanked it up, and opened my jeans and dropped them, then looked in the mirror.

"AW SHIT I'M A GIRL!

   

Jeph Lynn Antilles

   

Description: About 5'11 in male form, 5'8" in female form, with an average atheletic build. Has longish
hair, dishwater blond in male form, golden blond in female form. Normally wears jeans with some sort of geeky shirt or another under an overly baggy leather
jacket that's seen a lot of miles. In male mode, seemingly a little bit repressed, but friendly enough. Much more animated in female mode. See 'Wavium
Abilities for more information.

Notable Mundane Attributes:

Close to the Vest: A penchant for 'playing it safe', or at least as safe as you can when dealing with
Handwavium technology. Is even more cautious since the Zeb incident.

High Society: Likes to interact with everybody.

Quirks:

Get a Life: Occasionally gets in over his head in social situations, also known to be socially inept.

Excitable Boy: Known to get over excited in certain situations, sometimes bordering on manic with sufficient
stimulation. This feeds into 'Wavium abilities listed below.

Why Can't We Get Along?: Considers some of the more vocal and active conflicts between factions to be somewhat
incomprehensible, not to mention aggravating.

'Wavium Abilities:

Something Different About You Now: Whenever Jeph gets excitable, he does a credible job of emulating Futaba, and
changes into a woman. Not a drop dead gorgeous one, but very much easy on the eyes. Usually this only reverses after a night of sleep, but a conscious effort
to mellow out and center the emotions also accomplishes this. This doesn't seem to bug Jeph all that much, for some reason.

Good Thing You Can Heal: Tends to heal wounds several times faster than most people. Being in female mode is even
faster. Not that Jeph takes any chances, it still hurts like a sumbitch to take an injury.

Faction: No primary, but is known to assist many of the existing factions when asked.

Companies and Transports: Head of Jupiter Mining Corporation, usually found aboard Starbug 1, or his Saturn SL Cerulean Edge.

Myk-El Miller

Description: 5'11", with short, severely styled dark brown hair. He had fairly athletic looking limbs, but a very prominent paunch. He usually dresses
in jeans, topped with a tshirt covered in some loud patterned shirt, usually a red hawaiian or one covered in Superman's shield. Normally pretty centered,
but beware the bomb attached to the end of this man's fuse....

His main hobby, outside of his work for Jupiter Mining Corporation, and the training classes he provides, is Asteroid Racing. The other two are fun vocations
for him. This is his life.

Notable Mundane Attributes:

Doesn't This Guy Blink?: Normally unflappable. Not quite to the Jamie Hyneman level of unflappable, but he
doesn't blink at stuff that even some Fen can get weirded out about. And this is despite his Fendane trappings. He does have a temper, and can be squicked,
he just doesn't let it out much.

Ninja Socialite: Can blend into 'Dane cultures fairly easy. Most Fen mistake him for Fendane upon first meeting,
but it's only a ruse, useful for freaking the 'Danes.

He's Called The Stig: Very capable pilot, winner of the 'Hot Hatch Unmodified' Asteroid Racing for the
past couple of years, and considered a serious threat in the 'Hot Hatch Modified'. A goodly part of this is his vehicle, StarJumper.

Quirks:

Time To Adjust Your Medication?: Tends to get a little frazzled by some of the more... colorful examples of the Fen,
but he's more apt to gently correct them then to yell at them. Unless they persist.

Are You Sure We're From The Same Country?: Gets annoyed at some of the more dogmatic of the various factions.

'Wavium Abilities: None, although he doesn't put it out of mind should he get into a medical emergency like
Jeph did....

Faction: None, but has ties to the Supers, and the Browncoats.

Companies and Transports: Vice President of Operations (read: I make the decisions of Jeph's not around) of
Jupiter Mining Corporation. Usually found aboard Starbug 1, or his Mini Cooper S StarJumper. He also consults as a  trainer, specializing in Space Safety and Handwavium Handling.

Nene Romanova

Description: 5'4", easy on the eyes, short blond hair, petite yet perky.

Notable Attributes:

Cute Cyber Bruiser: Well respected white hat hacker in the Interwaves. So much so that, if she's in an area and
the Blue Blazers need a hacker, they call on her first.

'Wavium Abilities:

Gynoid fetishists need not apply: AI Robot: Doesn't Sleep, Doesn't Need to Eat, Doesn't Age, Potentially
Immortal.

Quirks:

Some Say I Have An Evil Twin: Her actions can be partly predicted if anyone's seen the shows with the character
she's based on.

Wrench Wench: For the most part, technology is her driving force, and she can make it sing. But she does have a soft
spot for someone...

Daddy's Girl: Has something of a 'thing' for Jeph, although that's complicated by him being
essentially her parent, and the fact that he can sometimes be a she...

Factions: Technically unafiliated, but aligned with The Hacker Underspace, and subscribes to the Mechatronics mailing
list run by the Gearheads.

R2-G0 "Geo"

Description: Meter tall round astromech droid, with red trim on chrome dome, and red body with white trimwork.
He's known to be strong willed, and unwilling to withhold his honest, intelligent opinions.

Notable Attributes:

No Job's Over My Head: Excellent technician.

'Wavium Abilities:

But My Timing Is Digital: 'Wave quickened AI droid.

Quirks:

All Right, I'm Not a Motorized Trash Can!: Dislikes anyone who automatically assumes he's a dumb drone, or
worse, merely an appliance.

No One Understands Me: Only Jeph, Nene, and other astromechs and AIs can understand his beeps and whirrs.

Trivia: Uses an old Mac G4 Mini as his processor core.

StarJumper

Registry: JMCM-1

Base Hull: 2002 Mini Cooper S

Drive Type: Speed

Drive Rating: Max velocity .11c

Owner of Record: Myk-El Miller

Flag of Record: Jupiter Mining Corporation

Home Port: Starbug 1

Purpose: Personal Transport and Courier

Launched: October 2008

Myk's own personal vehicle, 'waved before he left Earth. This is the vehicle he races in when he's in the asteroid racing. With it he wins the
'Hot Hatch Unmodified' division handily, and is a serious threat to the 'Hot Hatch Modified', despite it being rather unmodified...

Known Vehicle Quirks:

Do You Drive Like Jeremy Clarkson?: Goes through tires at a prodigious rate, regardless of how much time the tires are
actually in contact with anything. The material they're made of doesn't seem to effect how quickly they wear out, either.

No, really, Jeremy Clarkson?: Drivers that take what would seem foolish risks seem to get even better maneuverability
out of the car, literally expanding the envelope as they push it. Myk has yet to find a hard limit to this, but then, that finding of the limit will probably
be what punches the ticket of both him and the car.

Cerulean Edge

Registry: JMCS-1

Base Hull: 2001 Saturn SL

Drive Type: Speed

Drive Rating: Max velocity .08c

Owner of Record: Jeph Lynn Antilles

Flag of Record: Jupiter Mining Corporation

Home Port: Starbug 1

Purpose: Personal Transport and Courier

Launched: October 2008

Jeph's personal vehicle, like StarJumper 'waved before he left earth.

Known Vehicle Quirks:

It's Not Easy Being Blue: Everything about the car is blue green. The
paint job. The interior and fittings. The dashboard. The instruments. Even the TIRES are blue green. No amount of
paint, reupholstering, or anything, will change that.

Well Weathered: Picks up a new set of chips in the paint, or other similarly cosmetic damage, every six months, yet
shrugs it off entirely, including reentry soot, all the rest of the time.
--

"You know how parents tell you everything's going to fine, but you know they're lying to make you feel better? Everything's going to be fine." - The Doctor

I just put in my new NVIDIA GeForce 9800 GTX+, updated all the drivers.

And, well...

You card or driver doesn't support GL_ARB_multitexture

You card or driver doesn't support GL_ARB_texture_compression

City of Heroes has crashed and cannot continue. You may need to upgrade to a supported video card or driver.
===========

===============================================
"V, did you do something foolish?"
"Yes, and it was glorious."

Beepbeepbeep-beep! Beepbeepbeep-beep! Beepbeepbeep-beep! Beepbeepbeep-be-

Nene grumbled as she struggled over the warm mass of Ifrit to shut off the PDA's alarm, shutting it down as she again made a note to relocate the charger
to her side of the bed. Noting the clock advertising it as being a truly obscene hour of the late night/early morning, Nene considered putting off looking into
what'd triggered one of her sniffer programs but shrugged it off as she sat up in bed, glancing at the screen.

A personnel profile access by Superball ? What's that nutjob looking for in our
database? Or maybe more accurately, who got ahold of his password?

A cursory examination showed he'd accessed information on Decay...and accessed information on her past activities? Technically, that was
perfectly allowable. Hardly hacking the system, but to dig into those kind of program files showed more intuitive search capability than she'd thought
Superball capable of doing at a grocery store, let alone a computer network.

Her curiousity piqued, Nene set the PDA aside and got out of bed to grab her laptop, which was properly networked with her other machines and didn't have a
finicky touch screen. Getting her programs in order, she began examining the various stages of the contact. Superball'd made a bee-line for Decay's
file. Specifically, her recent activity on the database. She'd done a wide search within a given array of metahuman abilities. Poor girl, using the powers
log for a dating service, it seemed. And she'd picked Superball as her first attempt. For anyone else, that'd explain the inquisition of files, but
with Superball, he was a wacky nutcase...wasn't he? Of course, if that's what he wanted everyone to believe....something inside Nene's mind perked
up as she smelled a secret that she didn't know, and immediately began sending out more sniffers.

They traced the IP address fairly easily, though no normal back-check would've brought it up. The machine was well put together and guarded. A quick
analysis of the security routines suggested Mag's work. He had a given profile of anti-hacking and pursuit programs that he preferred, especially when
building for someone else that wouldn't have him on hand immediately for tech support if anything went wrong. And this had his signature all over it.
Unfortunately, Mag was an engineer, not a software genius, and in Nene's probably-not-too-humble opinion, he was up against a virtuoso in the field.

Having detailed the masked signature and its scrambling protocol from backtracking it(the machine was turned off, and thus inaccessible to her, but Riot's
logs worked well enough), Nene went to step two. Sylia would probably officially disapprove of her having a back door into the root code of the Legendary
base's computer systems, but unofficially, she'd only call Nene on that if she got caught. And, frankly, if anyone called her on it, she could just
claim she was bored one day and wanted to see if she could do it and people'd accept that explanation hook, line, and sinker. Letting loose her sniffers
again, they tracked the oddly masked IP signature shortly before Riot's base had been accessed, this time utilizing Terrence's account. Nene giggled
slightly at that, imagining poor Terrence running up against a 12th generation supercomputer that made the common home PC look like an abacus in
comparison...and calling up someone slightly more tech savvy to help him with it. Not her, of course. He'd probably think he'd never live it down(and
he wouldn't have, had he asked), but Superball? Hmph. No accounting for taste.

Once again, queries about Decay, specifically a rather amusing video of her and Terrence and her activities in tracking him down. Clearly, he'd been
wondering if she'd specifically come looking for him or just randomly picked him up for the date that the camera's audio feed clearly portrayed her
inviting him to.

The question, again, was why he cared. And why'd he gone as roundabout as to use Terr's access to find out? If it were just confirming how the hell
that had happened, an officer level account like his could've found all this without using Terr's...

So what was Superball hiding?

Absently, Nene realized she'd begun thinking of Superball as far closer to her own level of intelligence and sneakiness than the insane goofball that
she'd initially considered him. And simply put, this pattern of activity didn't fit Superball's public persona at all. It was too directed. Too
sneaky. It acted too much like someone with something to hide. Which meant finding out Superball's real background.

A cursory search brought up the two Superballs on record. Superball I's file ended abruptly with the standoff with the Outcasts. That was obvious enough,
but the FBSA had sealed the file on the investigation. The lock was a bit harder than she could probably legally chip at just yet, so Nene went around. Police
reports for the day of the incident filled her computer's screen as she narrowed them down to arrests of known thugs, then Outcasts, then when the gangs
themselves had been turned in. The datedness of the files worked for her here, with very few of them having any sort of security.

It seemed that the gang Superball I had taken on had a bit of a reputation. In fact, it might not be too big a leap to say they had an on-again, off-again
rivalry with Superball. Enough that the gang's names were available in the arrest logs. Calling up a list of known members for that particular Outcast
crew, she cross-referenced them. First, she scratched off names that were already in jail that day. Second, those that'd been arrested when the hostages
had been saved. Finally scratching off those confirmed as dead by one of the variety of ways it could happen in Paragon City, Nene blinked when only a handful
files remained open...and one whose powers didn't fit the typical Outcast kitsch at all was among them. The Outcasts had a theme, and most of them shot
fire, ice, lightning, or conjured rock. This one, though....he had powers that she'd never seen in the Outcasts, precisely. However, she had seen them
somewhere else....

She picked up the phone, dialing quickly as she glanced over at where Ifrit was still asleep. She knew now, but she didn't know what to do with what she
knew. However... "Sylia? I've dug up something I think you should know."

***

A couple days later, a letter was slipped into the mailbox of a given apartment. In fact, it wasn't a letter at all, really. It was a card, address written
on one side in plain, blocky print, and on the other, a short set of directions to a rather high class cafe on the far side of Independence Port. That and a
short note, written in a woman's elegant, flowing handwriting.

We need to talk. Date and time is in the usual drop-off point

-S.S.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

From the Times

What turns women on.

Genuine not spam - in case you're worried, but possibly not safe for work.

Okay, I was just thinking about what kind of adventures Mayonaka would be having and I realized that she wouldn't always be looking for trouble. I then
realized that an arch-nemesis would be the perfect thing. I know that Fenspace is not a dystopia, but it's not a perfect utopia either. I also know that
Ebony already has an arch nemesis for the Blue Blazer Irregulars.

So, with that in mind, I'm working on a re-occuring villain that would have an unhealthy interest in Mayonaka - she is, afterall fairly unique. Possibly
Helen as well. Any ideas?

This particular creation of the Jason's came about after his first meeting with Wire Geek, and was also heavily influenced by the need for the Vitamin Man.
The human body can manufacture vitamin D on its own...but requires sunlight to do so. Sunlight is also needed anywhere people want to grow plants...which can
be a problem depending on where you are in Fenspace, and how your habitable space is set up. Grow bulbs aren't exactly self-sustaining, and are fairly
expensive as well. The Jason came up with this to adress the problem.

Sunflowers:



These plants resemble regular sunflowers to some extent, but with extensive modifications. They are everblooming, with usually two or three blossoms present at
any one time. The flowers are crystalline in nature, the petals resembling thin pieces of faintly milky quartz. At the base of the plant, the stem expands into
a bulb; wiring can be inserted here to supply the plant with electricity. When powered, the flowers actually emit full-spectrum sunlight, suitable for growing
other plants...and supplementing their own growth as well. There are both tall and dwarf versions of the plant, the taller one reaching around six feet, while
the dwarf can fit neatly into a small flower pot and reaches only a foot or so in height. There are currently four varieties of sunflowers, all of them
available in tall and dwarf versions.

Turning Seasons - This version exhibits a temperate zone day/night cycle if continuously powered, with changing day lengths. The starting point can be
manipulated, but the default is winter solstice.

Tropical Days - This sunflower has an equatorial day/night cycle, with days and nights of roughly equal lengths.

Midnight Sun - This version simulates the day/night exremes seen in polar regions - generally around the same area as Alaska. One of the first
successful plantings of this type was given as a gift to Wire Geek.

British Empire - As the name suggests, this sunflower will continue to supply sunlight as long as power is applied.

I went by the warehouse 23 website yesterday and they are renovating thier warehouse WITH PICTURES!

Sadly someone possibly the IllumiNOTS must have redirected the link or substituted pictures and/or Censored all the important stuff out of the pictures.

All they are showing is bare concrete and mostly empty shelving and boxes.

It could be any normal warehouse anywhere else in the world.

I mean we all KNOW that the stuff in Warehouse 23 must be stored behind specially warded and electrified 30 foot thick titanium reinforced concrete walls that
is at least 7 stories underground, but one of the pictures shows a truck entrance with SUNLIGHT shining in.

Where are the specially warded Hazmat suits? They actually expect us to believe thier workers can run around in Jeans and light Jackets?

Even the bare concrete proves it can't be Warehouse 23.

Where are the acid stains?

Where are all the bite gouges or at least the patched concrete?

I mean I know of at least six un-nameable and un-imaginable things that have escaped containment.

Where are the bullet holes and craters from anti-tank round and laser or lightning strike burns needed to drive some of the weaker un-nameables back into
containment.

Also where are all the warning placards, wards and titanium cover plates closing off all those dimensional doorways that are scattered throughout the REAL
warehouse 23.

I've never explored much of Warehouse 23, but even I can tell this can't be pictures from Warehouse 23.

http://www.warehouse23.com/closed/

howard melton

In the wake of the winter storm that hit New Jersey last night, Peggy's got the whole day off (an amazing thing, she notes, as her boss never closes for inclement weather), and I have a delay until 10 AM (with a "call back at 8:30 to make sure we're not
actually closed all day" caveat).

I hear the snow hit as far south (in the US) as Alabama, who get significant snow maybe once every ten or fifteen years. So, anyone else get inconvenienced by
the white stuff?
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

While impatiently not really waiting for Elec Melee to make its way blueside, I rolled an Elec/Shields Brute in the meantime, while Uni rolled her own
SS/Shields Brute to complement it in a pact.

These two are the most amusing team I've ever seen. We don't go from location to location. We go from spawn to spawn, wiping them out as we build Fury.
It's an ongoing attempt to keep the Fury at the highest it can be as we go to the mish, and there were paths of beaten, broken opponents in our wake. :lol:

We were doing Burke's arc, and I believe I discovered Brutelock when, confronted with the hatchery level, I charged right up the middle to attack the boss,
aggroing everything in the room at once, and then proceeded to kick all of its ass with Uni's Brute's help. And KO'd the hatchlings as well, which
we let hatch and THEN beat up.

I already have one Brute, but BU-55 isn't NEAR this fun. :lol
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."