Posts from We’ve turned into a Hive, things are getting serious. Auto-translated

As a child, there was a cool thing to do when riding the escalator in a metro station with a high ceiling, or when swinging on a swing and looking straight up. It creates a strange, unsettling feeling, as if your insides are being compressed. Now, of course, you can't do that anymore, even if you go to a playground, you'll hit your head on the swing's railing, and not all the shafts in the great Moscow metro are wide enough to avoid contorting yourself into an awkward position.

Sometimes there are large swings. I used to ride on swings like that when I was in college; they worked there.

I read that there are things called cock carousels.

No, I mean those Soviet-era swings in the shape of a boat.

Ah, specifically for playing with a female character. Got it.

Why the sudden focus on female characters? Playing solo is perfectly fine too.

if you can’t make a sun, then these are just terrible swings 😎

I had a set of brutal swings in my yard with steel supports; you couldn't make a sun out of them. But you could easily break the legs of people carelessly hanging around nearby. It was an attraction of its own kind.

Why the sudden mention of a girl? It's possible to do it alone.

It's possible, it's possible... but not when you're a student and today is a beautiful day.

If you can't make sunshine, then these are terrible swings 😎

True.

You can, you can... but not when you're a student and today is a beautiful day.

Well, I was hanging out with a friend back then. And who hangs out with whom in the fantasies of Heroes of Might and Magic players is none of my business.

Once, I fell off a swing, landing headfirst on glass and a metal support. To be fair, it wasn't that kind of swing; it was a regular children's swing. And I wasn't even swinging; I just leaned over the backrest and fell. Maybe that explains a lot.

I remember when I was little, I foolishly got too close to the swings in the courtyard while a kid was swinging. There was a torn and bent piece of metal sticking out from the seat, like a knife, and he stabbed me in the stomach as he swung past.

We had brutal swings with steel supports in our courtyard; you couldn't make a sun out of them. But you could break the legs of people carelessly walking nearby. It was an attraction in its own way.

children*

for children*

I tend to believe that children are people.

And who keeps sending you those battle reports all the time? Is it Dark Jack?

Arandor is throwing.