I have an upcoming flight (AC 1521) in about a week, flying out of YYT to YUL at 1235. I am connecting in YUL to CDG. From looking at Flightaware I see AC 1521 gets cancelled at least once a week and is often very late leaving on the weekends. There is an earlier flight from YYT to YUL each day that has not been cancelled this month and is always on time (im thinking it is the same AirCanada Rouge aircraft going back and forth between the two cities) . I called AirCanada to try to switch to that earlier flight but the change fee is $425 pp.
Has anyone taken this flight recently or could shed any insight into why this one flight would be so routinely cancelled? The cancellations do not appear to be for weather.
So I flew here last week and was a nervous wreck and now I’m flying back home today and the flight keeps getting delayed. Not sure why, but it’s making me nervous
This is a terrible airline, they canceled a JFK to Las today, and now it's a connection flight through LAX, and gets to LAS 8 hours later. What doesn't make sense is JFK is their own terminal, even if they have a delayed flight, or mechanical issue they should have spare planes. Mind you it's sunny perfect weather day all throughout US today.
It's 9 out of 10 times I experienced these kind of issues with Jetblue in the last year. Operationally they are the worst airline compared to Delta and and American airlines.
I only take them because I have status and their flights tend to cost less at time of booking, but this is last time I fly with them.
[First.] (Chapters 1-2) [Prev.] (Chapters 3-4)
[Next.] (Chapters 7-8)
FALLING LIKE DOMINOS
They’ve got the moves!
Like a cackle of hyenas, the peaceful silence of the desert was broken by the despotic laughter of raiders (the ‘Rust Fiendz’ as they like to call themselves) riding in the night, their vehicles kicking up a large cloud of sand in their wake, and the smell of motor oil, sulfur, iron, and death tailing them as they drove off from one of their latest hits.
In the cabins of each rusted-to-hell pile of scrap on wheels, their jury-rigged radio crackles to life. The constant whine of static and electrical buzzing is punched through by a haughty voice. “Hey good shit back there, boys!” the gruff voice barks. Over the din of motors and engines, the roar of various vehicles’ occupants punches through, their raucous cheers just as vicious and loud as their dilapidated chariots. At the head of the pack of these rusted raiders was a heavily modified pickup truck that looked more akin to a sheet-metal sarcophagus that crashed through a hot-topic, a fitting final resting place for their war chief.
“Shit,” he snickers to himself, reveling in his recently ill-gotten spoils as he plunges a hand through a roughly made sack made out of a mysterious hide; whether it’s human or an animal remains a mystery. “Dumbass motherfuckers. Why do these starry-eyed jackasses keep trying?” He pulls out a bottle of spirits, the label reading: ‘Whiskey Rose brewery--A Cassidy Venture.’ Rolling down the window, he breaks the top of the bottle like the fucking barbarian he is and downs the bottle. “Whatever, not so starry-eyed anymore,” he snickers to himself, recounting the way his latest victim’s eyes clouded as she lay bleeding on the half-built foundation of the colony’s brewing facility. “As long as the hive lords keep paying, there’s no need for me to ask questions. ‘Sides these colony upstarts need a fucking reality check anyways.” Tossing the bottle out the window and rolling it up, he stops midway and watches through the rear-view mirror as the empty glass bottle collides in the face of one the scouts. The man lets out a high-pitched yelp as he goes tumbling off his motorcycle and is quickly crushed under the wheels of the others. “Hey dipshits look out next time!” he shouts out as he finishes rolling up the window. Without another look back the war chief focuses on the sands in front of him, not bothering to notice the smaller cloud of sand blending in behind the group.
“C’mon, come on!” Carmine hisses through gritted teeth. He lets go of the wheel, allowing the cruise control to stay on the path towards their target as he checks the chamber of his pistol. Meanwhile, Victor preemptively loads the makeshift crossbow with a tracker bolt, and Devin pulls back the bolt of the machine gun and begins assessing priority targets. “Devin!”
“Yeh chief? Devin answers back.
“I want a spotter report before we get any closer!”
“On it buddy!” With that, Devin pulls out a periscope and uses it to peek over without exposing himself from the safety of the gunner’s nest confines. He catches a glimpse of some poor bastard falling out into the desert sands and promptly being turned into a fine human pâté under the wheels of his fellow raiders. Devin winces at the sight but then smiles rather smugly. “Well, that’s one to scratch off the list. Fucker probably deserved it,” he mutters to himself. “Oi Carmine good news!”
“What is it?”
“Is god gonna smite them for us?” Victor interjects.
Devin shakes his head for no one to see. “Nah, I fucking wish. We were going to be dealing with eight scouts, six technicals, and king mong over there. However, it seems that we can scratch off a scout, cause the dumbass somehow managed to fall off his bike.”
Victor sucks air through his teeth at the news. “Bitch got smeared across the sand by his own buddies. Sucks to be that loser.”
Carmine snorts and chuckles to himself. “Bitch deserved it. Hey Devin, soon as a bunch of them group up give ‘em a taste of the beans. Save the actual HE round for king doitch bag over there.”
“Got it.” There’s a pregnant pause between all three of them as they see three of the scouts and a technical start slowing down from the main group and approaching them. “Oh shit, here comes a gaggle of them now.” Wordlessly, the trio goes to meet them, each of them readying themselves for the fight ahead. “Hey, Carmine, blast the radio; It’ll make us aim better.”
“Whose playlist is on right now?”
Victor rolls down the window and props himself out with his assault rifle at the ready. “Don’t know. It’s either yours, Devin’s, or any one of our granddad’s playlist. We all know that all your grandad listened to was ‘fortunate son’!”
“Oh, fuck off Victor!”
“The joke will never die! Besides, at least your grandad was different. Devin and my grandpa were practically the same person, they even had an on-going list on all the same ideas they had and even the same things they said... Well, what are you waiting for? Play that shit!” Victor shouts over the wind rushing past.
“They were brothers all the same, just as we are now!” Carmine shouts back. “Alright, playing that shit!” Carmine jams a finger into one of the old, faded buttons of the decrepit radio. It takes a moment before it comes to life. The static fading away until suddenly crisp, clear, energetic music starts blasting from the speakers, and the trio are greeted with the steady beat of a tambourine. “Fuck! Could be any one of ours!” Carmine shouts over as a guitar joins in on the fun, followed by drums hot on its tail.
All the old paintings on the tombs
They do the sand dance don’t you know?
If they move too quick. (Oh Whey oh!)
“Bitching!” Devin shouts, loading in one of the makeshift rounds for the grenade launcher.
Three scouts, having watched one of their own get crushed under the wheels of their fellow Rust Fiendz, group up together and begin to slow down to lag behind the rest of the pack, not wanting to take the chance of watering the sand in their own blood and viscera due to others’ disregard of life.
“Hey!” One of them shouts, getting the attention of the others. “Who the hell are those jobbers tailing us?”
“’ow the fack should I know?” One of them barks back.
“Well figure it the fuck out because they don’t look like one of ours. Their ride looks too clean and purdy to be one of us. You!” He points to the third, “Go flag one of the more sober guys up there and tell him to back us up.”
“Wait. What the hell why me dipshit?!” He protests.
“Because I said so fuckwad. Unless you want to be fly food smeared across the sand, I suggest you do it.” The third scout relents and goes to one of the technicals up ahead to request help. “Good, we have a new pecking order established now.”
The second scout looks at the self-appointed head incredulously. “The ‘ell there is! I never ‘oted yew to be boss of the scouts!”
“Your fault for not stepping up. Now shut up. From what happened up ahead I don’t think the boss wants anyone bothering him and those party crashers are getting closer. Get ready and bitch boy and motor cuck are coming over to back us up.” The self-appointed head turns around heads off for the armored car coming up on their rear.
“Mutha fucka!” the second bitterly swears. “The ‘ell is that music anyways?”
Devin stands up and positions himself over the gunner’s nest, eagerly bobbing his head along with the music as he leads the shot on the approaching raiders. Carmine for his part begins steadily speeding up to meet them.
“I’m gonna show these fuckers what real desert heat is!” Victor excitedly shouts over the music. He racks the bolt on the assault rifle and begins taking aim himself.
All the bazaar men by the Nile
They got the money on a bet
Gold crocodiles (Oh whey oh)
They snap their teeth on your cigarette.
The music starts ramping up now as Carmine floors the gas causing the RPM to sharply rise to the redline and all the men begin harmonizing with music.
Foreign types with the hookah pipes say
“WHHHEEYYY OOHHH WHHEEY OH, AAAYYY OOHH WHHEEYY OOHH!” They sing together.
Walk like an Egyptian...
And like that the music dies down for a moment leaving only the strumming of the electric guitar and the methodical shaking of the tambourines. Everyone holds their breath while they focus on the four hostiles coming at them head on. Each one of the men’s eyes dilating like a cat’s, just waiting for the moment to pounce.
“Closer.” All that’s left is the tambourine, it’s rhythm in sync with the beating of their hearts in their eardrums.
“Closer.” They all think to themselves, their adrenaline and testosterone building up in anticipation. The guitars make their presence known drowning out the noisy racket of the raiders. Tensions continue to rise until suddenly!
Dun dododo dun dun
Dun dododo dun DUN
DUN DODODO DUN *THOONK\
Devin fires the grenade launcher, and shots begin to ring out alongside the strums of the guitar. As if on cue, the singer returns, her voice coming in right on time as the bean can explodes, sending bits of tin and whatever else they could stuff in there as makeshift shrapnel, taking out the scouts and flipping over the technical on its side like a wounded ox.
The blonde waitresses take their trays
They spin around and they cross the floor
They’ve got the moves! (OOHHH WHHEEEYY OOHHH!)
You drop your drink, then they bring you more!
The sudden shots and the explosion bring the rest of the raiders out of their revelry as each and every one of them sobers up and checks their rear-view mirrors. They watch in surprise as one of their own is flipped onto its side by an unknown assailant. None of them are able to get a good look until the cloud of smoke passes and an armored car in better conditions than theirs rides up to the flipped technical and throws a firebomb onto it, followed by a staccato of gunfire from someone leaning out the passenger side window with nonsensical music playing.
You drop your drink, then they bring you more!
(That drink being the firebomb that was force fed into that poor fucker.)
There is a collective moment of “Oh Shit” between the Rust Fiendz as the single communal braincell bounces in out of the skulls of all the members. Some of them panic, while the drunker ones, angered by this party crasher, make a sloppy U-turn and go to face this suicidal nimrod head-on.
Carmine pounds the wheel and shouts, “FUCK YEAH GUYS! GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE!”
“Hell yeah brother!” Victor shouts, all the while Devin begins cackling like a madman over the destruction they had caused. Devin’s cackling is quickly cut short as he hears the pained groans of a poor, unfortunate scout that was badly maimed by the dollar store dumpster frag. Nonchalantly, he brings out his carbine and double taps the raider for good measure and goes back to cackling.
All the kids so sick of books
They like the punk and the metal band
A honk from the horn cuts Devin and Victor’s celebration short as they see two more technicals and the last of the scouts coming their way.
When the buzzer rings (OOHH WWHHEEYY OOHH!)
They’re walking like an Egyptian
“That’s our cue guys, get ready!” Carmine calls out.
Devin fires another shot of the grenade launcher at the oncoming enemies, but the effect isn’t as spectacular as last time as the makeshift bean can round manages to dent one of the technicals but bounces off the hood and into the sand. “Fuck a dud!” Devin curses.
“Get on the turret and start blasting Devin!”
“Orders received!” Devin ducks back into the safety of the gunner’s nest right on time too as wild and erratic shots ping off of it. Before he can rack the bolt and begin firing, a thunderous blast disorients him and knocks him against the walls as the whole armored car shakes and sand rains down from above him. Drunkenly, he rubs the back of his head but is caught off guard by his helmet getting away. “Da fuckz wah that?” he slurred out.
Victor ducks down as bullets rattle on the hood of the car and junk rounds begin ricocheting off the armored grill covering the windshield, some of them managing to thread the needle and lodge themselves in the damaged bulletproof glass. “An explosion dipshit. Now-,” Victor covers his head and blind fires out the window towards the oncoming raiders. “GET ON THE FUCKING GUN!” he hurriedly shouts.
“Son of a-bitch goddamn mother *rrghh\
*” Devin growls. Shaking his head and racking the bolt of the heavily bubba’ed FAL, he grits his teeth and takes aim. As the scouts get closer, they notice the gunner’s nest moving and begin concentrating their fire on the turret and spreading out. The sudden spray of bullets causes Devin to flinch and wince at the sparks and sharp sounds of scrap bullets on metal, but he clenches his jaw and fires an unfocused burst at one of the scouts. Devin’s shots go wide as Carmine begins speeding ahead and whipping the car violently left and right, either to try and ram some of the scouts or to throw off the aim of the technical firing the explosives.
All the kids in the marketplace say
(WHEEY OHH WHHEEYYY OOHH, AAYY OH WHEY OH!)
Walk like an Egyptian...
The music is abruptly cut off as another explosion rocks the speeding armored car and the radio cuts off. “FUCK DUDE!” Carmine shouts out.
“What. What! WHAT!
” Victor rushes out, dipping back in from the passenger window and narrowly avoiding a spray of bullets from a scout coming up on their rear.
Before Carmine could get out a sentence one of the technicals that had been acting as cover for the other slows down and positions itself on Carmine’s side. Several shots ring out and manage to get through the grate that acted as armor for the driver side window. Victor watches on in horror as three heavy *THUNKS\
* can be heard following by Carmine groaning and buckling. Carmine’s head slams on the wheel violently and he ends up honking the horn before snapping back up and firing his pistol at the offending technical.
“ASSHOLES!” Carmine curses. “Devin light those fuckers up on our right!” A violent rhythmic roar can be heard above them as Devin sprays the machine gun with extreme discrimination at the flanking technical. The screams of the raiders are drowned out by the gunfire before their vehicle begins to slow down and all noise from the raider’s Humvee ceases, all except a pitiful mechanical sputtering. The spraying resumes as Devin now has a clear shot on the technical that had been launching the explosives at them. The Rusted Sedan tries to bob and weave out of the shots until something explodes in the back and the car cartoonishly bounces on the sand.
“Fuck,” Devin heavily breathes out. Checking the scuffed belt feeding ammunition into the machine gun, he grimaces at the count and shakes his head. “Eighty-four rounds left. Fuck eighty-four rounds left,” he repeats to himself. “Well let’s see if I can’t rat my out of this one!” Cautiously he peeks his head out from the nest and sees two scouts behind the car taking pot shots at the rear-view window. Thankfully Carmine had the foresight to mount his ballistic shield to the back, but how long it’d hold was the question that worried Devin the most. “Hey, Carmine!”
“Urgh! Ah-Y-yeah Devin?”
“I need you to start doing some shit!”
“What kind of shit!” Carmine takes another shot to the side of his enclosed helmet and one to the side of his chest plate, the bullets not getting through but still managing to cause him to flinch and bruise from the force. He snaps his head to the scout, and the scout, now realizing how much she fucked up begins clutching the break of her ATV. Her ATV doesn’t slow down in time as Carmine fires three shots at her. One of the shots goes wide and misses, the second grazes her arm, but the third pierces her throat. She clutches at her throat with one and falls backward, one hand still death gripping the brake, the uneven steering and the violent braking causes the ATV to flip.
“I need you start swerving around and make these bastards on our tail get closer so I can nail them with the last bean can!”
Victor fires another burst taking out a scout that had been harassing the passenger side of the car. Overhearing the conversation, he taps Carmine’s sides and gets his attention. “Or what we could do. Hey Devin, how close are they!”
“They’re pretty close Victor!”
“About mouth to exhaust pipe distance! Why?” The realization dawns on Devin as he ducks back down to avoid the shots and he promptly gets back on the turret and focuses on ahead.
“Okay, thank you!” Turning his attention back to Carmine, Victor says, “Slam the brakes, this is going to be funny.”
“Oh, fuck yeah!” Carmine laughs out. Carmine abruptly slams on the brakes of the car, it takes a moment as the wheels fail to find traction on the sand, but it isn’t too long as a violent crash and shake of the car tells them as much. “Shit, one of them had a brain cell to rub between their fingers.” Luckily fortune was on their side as the sudden jolt from one of the scouts crashing into them managed to jolt the radio back to life. Unfortunately, though, one of the scouts speeds past them.
The trio lets out an elated cry as the music comes back on, but the elation is short lived as a frustrated shout from Devin alerts them to some unfortunate news. “Fuck he’s getting away and the rest of those braindead barbarians are heading into that sandstorm!”
Carmine steps on the gas and starts chasing after him and Victor leans out the window and takes aim with the crossbow. “Yeah, no we don’t do that here,” Victor states matter-of-factly. “Carmine step on it I want to make sure I land this.”
Carmine nods and tightens his grip on the wheel as the RPM hits the redline once more. “Alright hold on!”
The last scout looks behind himself as the sound of death rumbles like an engine getting pushed to its limits. Seeing how quickly the armored car is gaining on him, he hunches over and begins silently praying for mercy. His prayers are cut short as he feels a sharp pain pierce through his lower back, and he begins swerving wildly into the sandstorm, following the taillights and silhouettes of the other technicals as best he can through the storm.
Victor brings out a tracker and begins monitoring the tracker bolt. “And now we follow him through the storm.”
Devin hunkers down and suddenly jolts, a new fun idea pops up in his head. “Hey Carmine, pause the music. We’re going to be making an entrance!”
In the middle of the sandstorm the Rust Fiendz bicker and panic amongst themselves through their radios.
“Who the fuck were those guys?!”
“How the hell am I supposed to know!”
“Are you retarded! The Hive lords probably had enough of our shit. They sent someone to kill us!”
“We’re all going to di-“
“SHUT THE FUCK YOU WASTERS AND LISTEN HERE!” Their warchief screams over the radio, the sheer volume of causing the sound quality to warp and distort the audio of their poorly maintained radios. “We probably lost those jackasses in the storm by now, just keep driving. Furiosa!” He calls out.
“Furiosa you useless bitch! Answer me!” he angrily shouts again through the radio.
A calm voice, much too calm and collected to be a raider answers him back, “We’re almost out of the storm boss. It won’t be too long now.”
The warchief throws up a hand in exasperation. “Now you fucking answer.”
“Apologies sir, I was focusing.” She replies, her voice showing no hint of emotion.
“Yeah, well next time do it quicker.”
The Rust Fiendz keep a tight formation as they follow Furiosa’s dune buggy as it takes the lead and guides them out of the storm. Once they’re out of the storm, Furiosa circles around and parks next to the Warchief’s pickup truck. Her vehicle compared to the rest of the group is well maintained with only light rusting here and there.
“Wait holy shit! The hell is that coming at us!” One of the raiders shout out over the radio.
Everyone draws their respective firearms and aims it at the red blinking light coming at them from the depths of the sandstorm. The air is suffocating now as the red gets closer and closer; it’s blinking becoming more rapid and it’s light brighter and brighter. All of them tense up as they hear an engine’s rumble get closer until suddenly something bursts out from the storm and everyone begins indiscriminately blasting at whatever had made the mistake of fucking with their crew.
The gun fire and shooting lasts for a good solid minute, the bullets kicking up sand, the muzzle flash lights the midnight sky and the smoke obscures everyone’s vision. Eventually the shots die down and so does the smoke revealing.
“You GODDAMN IDIOTS!” The Warchief shouts as everyone takes a good look at the swiss-cheesed remains of the last scout and the unidentifiable heap of scrap that was his vehicle. Before the Warchief could shout anymore abuse and obscenities at his band of idiots and jackasses.
Furiosa, the only competent member, says something over the radio. “Listen!” Everyone stops what they’re doing and does as she says. They listen intently and all they can hear is the rumble of their engines, the howling sandstorm and...
The whistling is distant, but overtime it gets louder and louder until they also hear the sounds of-
“Are those fucking guitars?”
“I hear a rattle...”
Slide your feet up the street, bend your back
“Is that singing?”
Shift your arm then you pull it back
Everyone’s collective blood runs cold as the familiar tune starts playing through the sandstorm and the sound of an engine gets louder and louder.
Life is hard don’t you know
And then once more silence.
“The fuck did it-“
For once in the Rust Fiendz collective lives, they did something in unison. They screamed as an armored car with people shouting-
"OOOOHHH WWHHHEEYYY OOOHHH!"
Landed on and crushed the occupants of a Cadillac, scratching another off their list of technicals.
SO STRIKE A POSE ON A CADILLAC
IN AN ESCAPE POD WONDERING IF THIS TRULY IS THE LAST
“OH BY THE COMMON GOOD WHY! WHY! WHY!?” Cried Akali as one of the buttons he pressed only caused the escape pod to accelerate even faster. He clutched the sides of his head and began pacing in circles.
“How do I always get myself into these sorts of situations?!” he desperately shouted his hands grasping at the air, helplessly reaching out for something that wasn’t. He asked the question over and over again, but his desperate cries were answered only by the deafening roar of the escape pods thruster as it hurtled through space.
The escape pod blared.
“W-what is it now!” Quickly Akali rushed over to the main console of the escape pod to see what else the universe wanted to add to his woes. His eyes widened and all the feathers on his cobra-like hood flared out, a primordial fight or flight response to scare off predators or to make oneself blend better with shrubs and bushes to ambush prey. However, this response would do nothing as he couldn’t scare a console, nor were there any bushes to hide in from the decrepit satellites.
/MULTIPLE FOREIGN OBJECTS INCOMING!//>
/PLEASE REFER TO USER MANUAL IN THE GLOVE COMPARTMENT FOR ASSISTANCE!//>
And like that hope was reignited in Akali as he frantically reached for the glove compartment, his hands fumbling the latch to open it. Each time it did his heart rate would spike until. “YES FINALLY!” He triumphantly shouted as he opened up the glove compartment. Instantly he looked down and all that met him was a pocket of darkness as black as the void around him as the glove compartment was empty. Save for a hastily written note that read.
The User Manual is currently being inspected by Health and Safety Specialist: Orza T’igalma. Please DO NOT use the Escape pod during this inspection period.
~Yours truly Cleaning and Maintenance Specialist ‘Gumpy’
P.S. Stop calling me a Janitor. I am a Cleaning and Maintenance Specialist dammit!
The light in Akali’s eyes faded out upon reading the note. His mind shutting off completely, tuning out the rattling and occasional impact that shook the escape pod as it barreled through the halo of space debris and satellites that surrounded the dead planet that the escape pod was on a hell-bent collision course towards. However, his mind was able to think of one thing; the crewmember he had encountered during his rush to get to his uncle, the various signs that got knocked out during his collision with said crewmember, and even the janitor’s scrubs that the crewmember wore. Then the pieces started fitting together; and he realized that one of those signs looked oddly like the one used for escape pods back on the station he was previously on.
The feathers on his hood spiked up as he let out a primal screech, “LORD GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE SO THAT I CAN MURDER THAT MANGY LO’HAAANNN!!”
Meanwhile on the Great Endeavor.
Several members of The Great Endeavor’s security team rushed to the escape pods; the order had just been given. It was a ‘Centauri protocol’ which called for the security team’s best equipment and their best members.
“What in Hel’s embrace?” One of the Vicaik members exclaimed.
“What?” One of them asked.
“Where the Hel are the signs?”
“The signs.” The Vicaik stated again, pointing at the empty mounts and missing placards. The other members began looking around and sure enough, the signs were gone.
“It shouldn’t even matter. We know where they are,” One of the members said dismissively.
“I know that, but isn’t the captain’s nephew new?”
One of the crewmembers pauses at this and strokes their chin at the observation. “By about... a little less than a week why?”
The Vicaik slaps a heavy paw to their forehead. “Shit, that explains it!” He exclaims.
“He probably didn’t even memorize the layout! Also, that janitor probably screwed up some of the electrical systems while cleaning and probably shorted out some of the signs.”
“You know what he always does. He always takes the damn signs to electrical to ‘have them fixed’. Before the Vicaik can elaborate more on the topic, an alert on their PDA’s draws their attention.
/QUIT SCREWING AROUND AND GET PLANETSIDE ALREADY!//>
A.N: Hope you guys liked this chapter.
Also, Question: Should I make the chapters their own separate posts or should I keep doing what I'm doing now? Any other feedback, critiques, or criticisms are very much welcome.
Hi guys, I know that many parts of GTA 6 are probably already set, but still.. I sometimes dream about how the game could look. These are just my ideas and wishes: Stealing vehicles:
I wish that in GTA 6 Online you would be able to steal and keep any vehicle. More expensive vehicles would often have a tracker, and police would just keep chasing you forever - you wouldn't really be able to escape them. In that case you would need to know some mechanic willing to do dirty job (which would not be free), and it would have to be done quickly. If police found your secret garage / hangar / dock, the whole mission would be burned, vehicle would be gone and you would suffer a considerable fine (could be a percentage based on the value of a vehicle you tried to steal). But if you successfully stolen some vehicle , you could just keep it and also sell it. This would be a great way how to make money, but still challenging. It should not be too easy. For example now it is too easy to escape police if you steal Lazer from the military base. It would be way more realistic if they deployed few jets from the base in case you stole this. And you would have to win fight against them if you wanted to keep the stolen jet - otherwise you would die and be fined or worse (more about that below). Realistic gangs:
Currently, crews don't really mean much it seems to me. I think it would be more realistic that if someone killed a gang member, there should be some consequences. Perhaps then for a killer there could be a chance that their property will appear as a mission for gang members he attacked - and if the mission was successful (on first try), the gang members would be able to steal some of his property. Of course there could be some revenge if the killer was member of some other gang. If gang member killed some fellow member intentionally, they could be kicked out for it - it would be nice if there was some official in-game interface for this. Gang could also have some kind of shared space. Some central building, maybe even shared vehicles which you could borrow as a member, or donate some of yours once you were rich enough. Economy:
What GTA 5 really lacks is a proper economy. There is no economy basically, which is sad. It would be so nice if in GTA 6 you could sell your vehicles to other players. Money from every mission should be shared, not just heists. Most importantly, however, player should be able to offer their services, and they could set their own price for it. For example someone could be a classical bodyguard, but others might prefer to offer transportation services - for example you would set up a route from A to B on a map, and select you want to get there by airplane, and in a few moments, some other player would land a two-seater jet nearby and picked you up for a fee. Perhaps you could also rent your vehicles to other players. Just imagine you could rent Oppressor for 50k as a new player for 30 minutes. Sound like a good deal for both, right? Money transfers should also be possible - although maybe only in person, not using a bank. No global signal:
Please, just no. This should not be a part of GTA 6. Firstly, it is unrealistic and secondly it only encourages griefing, and nothing else. However, there should be an alternative to this "global signal". Simply said, if some player was near and saw what is going on, they could let others know (they could also choose who they let to know). Then this would be much more realistic and fun. Thanks to improved economy, there could be some rewards for the whistleblower, etc. No player icons on map:
This is again unrealistic in current game. How would other gangsters ever know where you are? Makes zero sense to me. I think by default you should always be "off radar", and you could decide who should see your location (friends would always see it). This might just end griefing in this game, and that would be great. No heist sessions:
There would be no separate heist sessions. Not only they make gameplay slower (we all hate those loading screens), but they are also unrealistic. Currently heists serve a role of a money-grinding strategy (or fun activity in better case), which is far from what they should be. They should be rare occurrence and a big event in general. Other players wouldn't know about ongoing heist, but they could be informed by some player. There could even be a traitor in the initial heist crew, who would inform their friend and then kill them an steal everything etc. Police:
Currently, police is weird. They start shooting at you from first star. This shouldn't be the case. But more importantly, if you got busted, you would go to jail. You would lose all your guns and all services would be unavailable to you. It could be that if there was at least 5 players in the session then if you were in jail, you would have these choices:
Another ideas about Police:
- Serve your jailtime for 20 minutes (there could be some "fun" activities involved)
- Pay the bail (this would be serious amount of money based on your current bank balance)
- Ask others in session to break you out - a little better version of well known heist :-)
You could call the police on someone. Instead of sending Merryweather mercenaries for a fee, you could just use less serious force, and report someone to the police for free. Of course this could be abused by some players, so the target would only get one star and unless they harmed or killed the player who called the police recently, they would be able to just convince the police to let them go - the police in that case would just arrive, have a friendly chat with you and then went away. Join the Police!
Actually yes, why could you not just join the police? Could be a cool mission, right? Just imagine someone has informed you about heist being planned somewhere. You could join police, give them this information and get promoted. You would then be assigned to real crime scenes caused by other players, and fight against them. They wouldn't know you are other player in that case. However, as a member of police you would have to follow certain orders and couldn't for example shoot with RPG on someone who has just 2 stars. Join the Army!
You would like to fly Lazer but don't have enough money and military base defence is too much for you to handle? No problem, just join the army and perhaps you will be assigned as a pilot and will have some training flights from time to time. But be ready to defend your base or other areas (currently the aircraft carrier ship for example). Session moderators:
From days long gone I remember that on WoW servers there were mods, which was great. I think GTA needs the same. There should be more players in single session obviously (30 is just not enough, and I am sure today's computers can handle way more), and there should be one mod in each of them. This would put an end to modding finally.
And what are your ideas? :-)
I (F24) have been with my boyfriend (M 26) met online were friends for a while and have talked/video chatted everyday for the past 10 years. We've never met in person and have lived across the world from one another until recently. We are both virgins, have never been on a date or even been kissed.
I bought my ticket 2 months ago based off of my period tracker because I wanted to make sure I would have a week before my period. I have had my period tracker since I was a freshmen in highschool and it has always been very accurate. Well since I bought my ticket my periods have been sooner then my period tracker expectated dates, I thought it wasn't a big deal because it showed my period starting when I would be leaving. Well, I just got my period and because of how early it came my next period will start the day I am going to meet him and will end when I leave.
I don't really know what to do because we have been looking forward not just meeting but sharing our firsts together. We talked about it and he doesn't see what the big deal is.
I feel really ashamed though like my body has let me down. Neither of us know what we are doing. We are going to stay at a hotel so I don't think there is any other option besides us having sex in the shower, which doesn't sound great when we've never have had sex before. I am also scared of his reaction to the sight/sensation of period sex.
When I brought up my concerns he let me know that we didn't have to have sex and he would be ok with us just meeting. I am not ok with that though. I waited 10 years I am beyond ready, I just hate that my body is failing me after waiting so long. It's giving me anxiety thinking how horribly this can go since we don't know what we are doing and how messy periods are.
If anyone can give any advice to give about losing virginity or losing virginity on period or period sex in a hotel I would really appreciate it.
(I can't change my flight or cancel it.)
The price trackers I know of and the ones listed in the wiki (Google Flights, Kayak, Airfare Watchdog) all require you to choose dates for flights, but I'm not limited to travel on one date or even one month.
I'm trying to find a site that can tell me "if this flight drops below X price for any day in the next Y months, alert me." Does anyone know of a website this is possible with?
My wife and I are looking at going to Italy for 2 weeks. I've been looking at flights but wondering if I can get anything better than what I found with points. I have 83k Jetblue points 93k Chase. Here are two I found so far:
EWR <-> FCO for 90k United miles per person
JFK <-> LHR for 43k JB miles per person
I've been looking at Fri to Sun dates, and both of these flights were found 10/27 to 11/12. The flights above are all nonstop.
I know it's London and not Italy, but I read if you get into Europe it's easier to move around. Plus Jetblue has a very limited selections of European flights, only London, Amsterdam and Paris.
I'm not sure if its worth all the trouble though. I do have the JB Plus cc and would get free checked bags as well. Is there anything better I can do here?
There seem to be a lot of interesting options in the 35-38k range for each direction. Is it even worth it though? Trying to avoid EWR but stops are fine if under 18 hours. What's the best seat, amenities, and in-flight entertainment? Any live TV options? I don't have Amex so transferring or finding American awards might be hard.
United portal: Non-stop from EWR, non-stop ANA from JFK, lots of 1-stop connections for ANA
American portal: Stop in LAX, or pick up JAL from somewhere else, can't redeem non-stop flights?
Haven't been considering most other portals due to higher reward requirements and fees. Virgin seems to be a huge hassle even if I wanted business class.
On a somewhat related note, what about NYC to FLL/PBI/MIA? Should I stick with Jetblue or is the rare flagship American 777 route into MIA worth trying?
Edit: Looks like you can book 70k round-trip non-stop JAL JFK/HND through American. The daily JL3 1:30 AM flight you can just pass out on and 1:20 PM JL5. I did manage to find some 50k + $700 JAL economy flights directly through them. Not too great but 65k plus that same fee for the cheapest PY seats so far is a bit more compelling.