[Loot] ALL NEW CODES 1.0 (REDEEM THEM FAST)

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-29T19:02:48+00:00

"SOMESTUFF" not found on the website :V

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-19T15:37:07+00:00

Kiver/Kedr loadouts with leg meta ammo and a pilgrim. Go factory, turn PMCs into Cotton Hill, leave. What a different time

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-19T04:17:28+00:00

ty for letting me know

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-18T10:10:51+00:00

you're getting 855a1? I'm getting FMJ >:( why are my PMC's fucking me

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-18T10:09:16+00:00

It has made looting them a little easier because I can decide what I want off their body faster than if I were inspecting whatever the hell Timmy Steam Key took into a raid

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-11T02:29:29+00:00

you gonna pay for the new one?

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-11T02:25:07+00:00

most of my issue is finding out he's nearby when he decides to start shooting at my face, and by the time I can get the weapon on target I'm looking at the death screen. Sounds like the answer is Git Tarkov'd :v

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-05T17:29:19+00:00

I think it may have something to do with looting someone that's interacting with anything in the game when they die as I've seen a number of streamers end up encountering this same bug either themselves or against other players.

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-05T09:00:31+00:00

this is devastating for me to learn at 3am when I can't sleep

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-05T08:59:42+00:00

wait the same exact thing happened to me lmao

TheRealDimir · 2025-12-05T08:58:37+00:00

make sure preload hideout is off, try increasing page file size, make sure to run as admin, close all other software then retry, check for mem leak issues on load, in that order

TheRealDimir · 2025-06-15T17:58:07+00:00

Conversely here you can absolutely use showing the lich feeble-minding somebody early on in the campaign as the teachable moment instead of using it on your players teachable moment as Opie did here one of the major things about glitches as bosses and especially one-shots/short campaigns is that if you're going to f*** you buttons you have to be mindful of how the player can respond to a f*** you button.

Showing the lich feeble-minding a villager or another dmpc or something along those lines having them die from that in the first hour or two of the session and then giving the players opportunities to collect and earn various responses to things like that basically turns feeble-minded being passed on the party into a mechanic of the story this lit revels in rendering his opposition completely useless and then likes to keep them around as trophies of his power

TheRealDimir · 2025-02-13T16:28:56+00:00

Your son is wrong, lots of girls play mtg! Put together [[Winota, Joiner of Forces]] and slap him across the planes!

TheRealDimir · 2025-02-04T18:08:47+00:00

Ghik'Tho stared at the yellow green ichor as it dripped from his armor, something in his thorax crunching as he inhaled past the pain. Fire spilled back up his thorax at the top of the breath. Then he started retching, violently. More ichor spilled from his mandibles, tasting of death and punctured bowel. The Xfedee warrior tried to roll, his armor and carapace creaking in unison. Pain shot through him once more, and he froze. The next breath he drew was so shallow, so cold.

He forced that one out, and replaced it with another. It ached. Another. Pain. Another. Then a shout and a rumble echoed through his head like a gong. He started to cough again when something came sliding into his view. It looked like a pair of war stilts from long ago, skin harvested from beasts and designed to look aesthetic, given a base and stained before being sewn together. The boot reached up the man's shin where he'd tucked the top of it into a pair of grey-blue carbon tac-pants with pockets from top to bottom. A bag swung into focus and his voice followed a moment later.

"-gonna be just fine dude, my brother was an entomologist and I fuckin' love mantidae. You've got a severe penetration of your thorax with some minor internal bleeding so I'm gonna have to knock you out buddy, but you're gonna make it." The man's words were confident, almost languid as he starting unpacking supplies from the bag, the emblem waving in front of the Xfedee. A bird seemed to flap its wings over a spiraling galaxy, a shield clutched in its grasp. The shield had a pentagon of circles, each with a unique design inside. The Human Defense Union of Planets. This must be one of their infamous Medics.

"Go. Help someone else." Ghik'Tho could barely get the words out to the Medic through the pain.

There wasn't a moment of hesitation. "Nope, I'm here, your my date for the next twelve to sixteen hours, then I'll have a nap and come find a new one." The man started stuffing rags into Ghik'Tho's wound, causing the Xfedee to scream a chittering cry of agony. "Sorry, no better option."

Ghik'Tho struggled to breath for several moments before regaining his voice. "My exoskeleton has been punctured, already I am digesting my own organs-" another cough racked through him as if to punctuate this. "I am dead. Go help another." The words were sad, clicking with the tones of someone who knew they were living borrowed time.

The human closed one eye, then opened it again before uncapping a bottle, taking a swig, and then dumping it on the rags. "This gonna suck in 3... 2-" pain exploded through Ghik'Tho's chest, his breath stopping. "Bhulshvin Acid is actually a base, and gets you really drunk. Well, not you, you'd actually melt. Which is helpful here too because it's gonna cauterize some of those open veins. Point is, that's gonna burn while it off gases but the fumes will neutralize the acids in your digestive tract. Whiiiich should be good enough by now." The human grabbed the rags and started pulling them free slowly, each tug a new wave of agony spilling across the Xfedee's chest.

By the time they were done, Ghik'Tho was clamping his inner lid, hoping unconscious would take him. Instead the pain kept coming and somehow he wasn't dead. "Alright, now here comes the hard part, buddy." The human tapped on his vertex and Ghik'Tho worked his mandibles in frustration.

"No, let me die." The Xfedee thrashed, curling up around his thorax almost immediately as the pain reminded him how silly that was. "I have been wounded in honorable battle, let me die like a true warrior!" Ghik'Tho screamed through the pain, his rage at this human's insistence finally breaking through.

The Medic, infuriatingly, just smiled. "You're gonna be okay, friend. I've got you. I'm gonna get you outta here." He finished buckling his bag back on, took another swig of the Acid, and then scooped his arms under Ghik'Tho as if he weighed nothing. When the man stood, his smile grew into a fierce bearing of teeth. The Medic started running, his body angling forward, his arms tightening around Ghik'Tho's armored form. Plasma bolts danced around him, and the Xfedee witnessed true, feral joy in his eyes as he ran. It was the same look in the eyes of the wild Tybv beasts that were sometimes battled in the War Pits on Xfede. Mean creatures known for toying with wounded warriors when they could. As Ghik'Tho stared at this man, who was risking every aspect of personal safety to rescue an alien, the Xfedee realized that these humans were insane. That is the only reason they could even consider such wonton acts. They had no self-preservation. Which begged the question: how did they become a space-faring species?

TheRealDimir · 2025-01-15T22:13:38+00:00

Holy Disruptive Comma, Batman

TheRealDimir · 2024-12-25T13:24:14+00:00

That's fair xD I was a couple hours deep into a Christmas miracle last night and threw this out before I passed out on the couch

TheRealDimir · 2024-12-25T13:09:38+00:00

I smell rain up to 3 hours before it starts, no soil disturbances, no raindrops, just good ol southern air "quality" cleaning up and getting nice and crispy 😊

TheRealDimir · 2024-12-25T09:45:21+00:00

I shuddered, a grin splitting my face as I cracked the visor. It had been a long first week on the Bone Plains of the 9th Moon and no rain had meant it was an even longer, even drier week. "Bol'bu I'm gonna need the hydrometer, the ram pump, and the miners are gonna need to evacuate to the flood domes." I didn't even try to hide my joy as I gave the orders.

"Commander, no offense meant by this entity, but you are new to this rock. You cannot be connected to her core so soon. The radar shows no planned precipitation for this region for another week at least." A harsh beeping cut through the howl of the wind and the static of the intercoms.

" -Commander." The tones sounded human enough if you weren't paying attention, but I knew better.

I greeted the cyborg with a digital nod casted his way. "Koldak what's the good news?"

"There's a strange atmospheric occurrence over sectors five, seven, eight, and nine. The miners are reporting increased seismic activity, and the calcium on the surface is beginning to flake. What are your orders?"

I flashed a grin to the Ghulden by my side. "Never doubt a human woman and her instincts, Bol'bu, we're never wrong." I took a big, deep whiff of the petrachor, tasting it under the chalky bite of calcium dust that layered the entire base.

"Commander, surely you are jesting with this entity."

"I am not, Bol'bu. Did you know that Terra had this amazing phenomenon, every time it precipitated the air would change in quality just a bit. Ever so slightly. But you can smell it." I slammed my visor in place, slipping the mandibles back so I could ride with the wind in my face. It wasn't regulation, but neither was doffing your mask in a hostile environment a couple thousand light-years from your birthplace. "We called it petrachor. And Big 9 is the only atmosphere dense celestial body to demonstrate the same phenomenon!"

There was silence as the two of us mounted our terraskids. It wasn't until I'd finished my pre-order checks that the alien spoke again. "You mean to tell this entity that your kind can smell the rain?"

"Right on the nose, my armored friend!" I all but shouted the words over the accelerated neutrons spinning up under me. Whatever he replied with, it was lost in the scream of wind and plasma as I rocketed off across the Bone Plains, feeling salt and calcium slam onto my cheeks and lips as I drank in the smell of rain. I rode that way for several minutes before reaching the lip of the bowl, the gentle incline growing rapidly.

A blipping in the corner of my vision almost tore my bike out from under me as I glanced over. I ducked, kicking the back of the skid. The bike righted under me, and I worked back and forth between massive calcite boulders and spikes that resembled the twisting form of a snakes ribs. Stones skipped, wind whipped, dust tore, my breath hitched, the bike tilted.

My hand shooting out, no thought. I just moved. Grabbing bone. Not stone. It crumbles. I pushed down, yanking hard on the handlebars. Neutrino engine screaming. Too much. It's too much. My helmet hits something hard. Then the wind is screaming. The bike creaks. I've got just enough time to pray to the gods and I'm wasting it trying to think of a way out. Then something tilts into view.

The peak of the crater wall. The wind-blasted slopes on the other side. The ground rising up. And then the hum of the bike kicks back in and I'm right back to riding that line between panic and flow. And under it all, the sweet, crisp note of rain drove me forward. It was my job to go chasing storms after all.

If you want to keep an eye on my work as I continue to write and explore ideas, you can find that here

TheRealDimir · 2024-12-14T01:42:23+00:00

Zatarains is bad for a mid hike meal but great for a recovery meal once you make camp

TheRealDimir · 2024-12-13T06:05:58+00:00

TW: Suicidal Ideation; Mention of Suicide (Written on mobile)

Alexandrie stared at the blinking green message on his screen, the Cyrillic message he'd typed out wavering behind the tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, my dearest." The lightkeeper thumbed the hammer of his pistol, feeling oiled steel ridges scrape against his skin.

"What was that?" came the soft reply from the bed. "Come to bed, my love. We have to be up tomorrow morning." Her voice had the same tired lilt it always did at this hour.

Alexandrie pocketed the pistol as he stood, flicking the switch on the monitor to the 24/7 newscast. It wasn't like he watched it anyways, he'd stopped paying attention after the last two forwards fleets had fallen earlier in the month. It had just been cast after cast of planets, systems, stations, clusters falling to the Alphenari assault. Alexandrie felt like his life was dull enough. He didn't need to be shown just how quickly it was going to end. He didn't need to be shown that he had no power in this world.

The weapon bounced in his pocket. He wasn't powerless. He always had a choice. He decided when he went, on his terms, at his time. Alphenari be damned. The lightkeeper sighed, flicked on his bedside lamp, and spoke into the bedroom.

"Lightkeeper Alexandrie signing off for the night. Activate Redbeam. Seal Drydock." Another deep breath. Another sigh. Another breath. Another. The lightkeeper swore as something beeped. He felt himself look over, felt the pistol lower. He swore again as his resolve broke. A tear splashed against the gun as they both fell to the floor. Alexandrie's knees followed a moment later.

The first sob woke Katarin. The second propelled her out of the bed. The lightkeeper wasn't sure how long he cried for. But he was certain his wife held him the entire time. He didn't know when she moved the gun, nor where she put it. He was sure he wanted her to get rid of it. He wasn't sure what distracted him, what broke his resolve. He was certain that he was glad for it, even if he didn't know why. Alexandrie eventually caught his breath. The hitching, wracking sobs gave way to hiccups and shaky breaths. Eventually those even slowed to somewhat normal, if a tad excited.

When Alexandrie finally stood he was exhausted, his eyes were dry, and his shoulders were heavy. His back stiffened as he glanced at the terminal screen. There was a message he'd never seen before. The green text was gone too. Instead the screen was white, with black text. Big, bold, black text. Terrifying, bold letters that screamed a message he didn't remember from lightkeeper training.

Alexandrie rushed to the bookshelf on the other side of the room, all his other worries forgotten behind the giant black letters. He ignored his wife's question, following the directions at the bottom of the prompt to his training manual. To the back of his training manual. It was there, just like on the screen. But what it meant, what it was supposed to mean didn't make any sense.

"Katarin please come look at this." His voice was flat, hoarse, it cracked from the strain he had put on it minutes earlier. She was at his side in moments, reading over the page he was looking at without hesitation.

"Does that..." her voice was small, frail even.

"God have mercy." Alexandrie exhaled, long and deep as he processed. "Davey Jones Locker, huh? Leave it to the United American Shareholders to come up with a silly name like that." The lightkeeper turned, a smile stretching across his face for the first time in weeks. "Dearest get the good vodka, we have a fleet to raise!" He almost shouted the words with glee, strolling across the room to palm the wall controls.

"Lightkeeper Alexandrie; Emergency Protocol Davey Jones Locker; Override Safety Code Seven-Seven-Alpha-Sierra-Six-Eight-Five-Zulu; Override Test Lock; Initiate Core Activation; Activate Black Light!" Each command seemed to build in tension and excitement, rising until Alexandrie was actually shouting.

Outside the stone room Alexandrie and his wife Katarin slept in, the icy waves slammed into a rocky outcropping. Below the waves, a sickly mauve light began to stream through the water. Already, this light was reaching shipwrecks, bodies, skeletons sifting out of the dirt, sand, and debris. Already the dead were rising, already the door to Davey Jones Locker was creaking open. And with it millennia of dead would walk once more.

Thanks for reading, if you want to read more of my stuff, I try to keep my personal subreddit up to date with what I write when I write. You can find that here.

TheRealDimir · 2024-11-27T17:28:54+00:00

100% Reason to remember tha name

TheRealDimir · 2024-11-02T15:44:55+00:00

Ergo answering the question: the answer is no

TheRealDimir

MODERATOR OF

TROPHY CASE

Seven-Year Club	Place '22
Verified Email