Filian face reveal
Introduce yourself to Reddit. For the brave and the lurker.
2018.07.29 08:47 NotTolerant Introduce yourself to Reddit. For the brave and the lurker.
A subreddit dedicated to the revealing of faces (redditors) on the interwebs.
2018.11.21 22:57 trekie4747 Face revealed
I didn't mean to reveal my face
2019.01.20 07:12 toastyfb ihadartichoke
THIS IS THE REAL ELITE COMMUNITY WHERE WE POST ANYTHING WE WANT IF WE HIT 4 SUBS I'LL DO A FACE REVEAL
2023.06.03 17:28 Sad_Milk5592 Finished Assassin's Quest and loved it as much as previous two Books
I have previously expressed my thoughts on going into this books in the previous review about how this book is recieved by some people but this book exceeded my expectations and I loved this book, it will be a long review but mostly it's about Fitz.
Firstly I will talk about Fitz, he is in my top 5 favorite characters of all time. What Robin hobb did with his character is just Masterful. This is how real people behave, I have never seen myself in a character as much as I have seen myself in Fitz. It broke my heart when he was putting all of his trauma in the dragon and when he said to kettle that all he wants is to sleep peacefully with his own dreams. It made me smile when starling told him he is a hero for saving her brother and after that he slept peacefully that night and what I loved most about this book is Fitz is on a quest and that quest felt as if maybe if I have been in Fitz place this is exactly how it would have gone. Another thing is, seen a lot of people complained about Fitz telling fool about Molly and burrich is dumb but for me it's the most human thing bcoz for us it may be easy to see what's happening(altough even I did not know what's happening until verity told him) but for him his concentration was simply not in that problem, what he tought at the moment was he is going to die and he thinks about the future of Molly and his daughter so he tells the fool about them and I do mistakes like this in my life where a person says to me to do something and my concentration shifts and totally do another thing. The most memorable thing i have with fitz when reading this book is when he shouts at kettle and others that no one is telling anything to him and before reading that chapter something similar happened in my home and i wanted fitz to just shout at them all bcoz iam in that same frustration at that time. loved what he did to regal, I tought he killed him but what he did to regal made me laugh so hard when he tought he also considered to have regal to honor Fitz by making his statue but also happy that small ferret got to kill him and mention how many years have passed when we currently catch up with him in the end.
Talking about Nighteyes, he's officially my favorite animal companion of all time. The reason I loved this book is also bcoz we get to see lot of Fitz and Nighteyes traveling together. I have never been so happy to see a reunion between an animal and a human as I have felt when Nighteyes finally comes to Fitz leaving his wolves pack and says to him that 'Iam no longer a wolf and you are no longer a man and what we are together, i have no name for. reading even seven chapters without him felt such a difficult task and so happy that she didn't kill him off, my anxiety was soo high when when they were facing regal's soldiers at the end, but soo glad he lived and they both get to live together.
Talking about Fool, in my last review I told how I want their friendship to grow and it did in this book. Their reunion was great, not only Fitz and Fool friendship but also Fool and Nighteyes bond, never tought they are going to get that close and robin hobb made that relationship grow soo smooth and never felt forced and loved the part where the three of them played with the water and how fitz took care of fool. Now I want a novel where only Fitz, fool and Nighteyes spending time together.
Not much to say about other characters, loved kettricken and felt bad for her that she and verity didn't get to be together but atleast she got his child, I think verity told her that it was him in Fitz body before they slept together, I don't think he skill imprinted on her to think Fitz is verity.
I want a short novel of patience rising to power in buckeep and how she growed her influence, sad that Fitz and her didn't get a reunion but what I love about her in this book is in previous books I loved her mostly as Fitz's mother but in this book she got to shine as her own separate character but she is got less pagetime in this book.
Aside from that glad Fitz and Molly didn't end up together but sucks she and burrich ended up together but it made sense to me and I guessed it would happen when iam Halfway through this book. Now I hope he finds a new love interest in his life.
Starling and kettle are good additions but kettle annoyed me at times.
How Redships war ended is good, I liked the reveal of forging mystery, never felt like the ending is deus ex machina bcoz she is setting it up since book 2 and one question I have is doesn't the dragons don't have fire power bcoz everytime she describes them, they are only attacking physically instead of using fire plz comment below.
Another thing I haven't seen robin hobb get praised for is conversations, all three books are loaded with just interactions between characters and it is a difficult task to pull it off and love how characters don't forget what happened to them but it haunts them and it affects them in how they behave.
Talking about the cons of this trilogy I have are, plot armor at times Verity stupidity in book 2 Pacing I felt two or three times is soo slow
Aside from that overall a great trilogy. I will give this trilogy an 8/10
Now onto liveship traders trilogy and heard it was even better although I just want to read tawny man but I want to give myself and Fitz a break.
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2023.06.03 17:26 HeadOfSpectre The Soldier
"Think of this as a chance at revenge," Sweeney said.
What a moronically quaint idea.
This jumped up little shit had come into my home, interrupted my retirement and here he was talking to me about revenge, as if he knew the first thing about what I’d seen, what I’d been through, why I’d quit.
Looking into his eyes, I knew he didn’t understand. I knew he couldn’t.
I've been hunting vampires for most of my life. I've killed more of them than I can count. But Clementine Di Cesare was no ordinary vampire. Hell, none of the Di Cesares were ordinary vampires, but even among them Clementine was… unique. She was the one all the others quietly feared. The one who was even spoken of with reverence by the Di Cesares masters, those twin Immortals who could not be killed by any weapon of this world. Seeking revenge against her was like seeking revenge against death itself.
“Revenge?” I repeated, with a dismissive scoff.
“You’re really going to tell me that after what she put you through, you don’t want revenge?” Sweeney asked.
“If you knew what she did to me, you’d know why I don’t want revenge,” I replied.
“Really? Sorry Franklin, but I don’t buy that. Look, I get it if you’re reluctant to jump back into the fight. I do. You of all people know just how dangerous the Di Cesare’s are. Especially ‘La Morte’.”
I looked over at him as he said that name. It rolled off his tongue so irreverently. To him, it was just a name. An alias assigned to some vampire he’s only heard of stories. He didn’t utter it with the respect it deserved, and I almost couldn’t be bothered to correct him. Any words spent on this small minded glory hound were probably wasted.
“Yes, I do know.”
“Which is why I need you,” Sweeney said. He almost sounded as if he were pleading with me. “Think of this as an opportunity to set things right… to put that vampire bitch in the ground where she belongs, and save God only knows how many lives in the process!”
He just didn’t get it.
“Mark my words, Mr. Sweeney, if you chase after Clementine Di Cesare, you’ll end far more lives than you save. She didn’t get a name like ‘La Morte’ for nothing. She earned it. Purchased it with the blood of the tens of thousands she’s sent screaming into the maw of Hell. She is not something you chase, Sweeney.”
“She’s a vampire,” Sweeney said dismissively. “She’s another enemy to destroy.”
“That’s what George Bundy said,” I replied. “Then not too long after, he died.”
“I’m not George Bundy,” Sweeney said.
“No. You sure as hell ain’t,” I agreed, before looking the kid in the eye.
He thought he was an up and comer, climbing the ranks of the Brethren. He probably thought of himself as some sort of badass vampire hunter too, when in reality he could never have so much as dreamed of holding a candle to the likes of Bundy… or hell, any of the men who’d died in Brazil.
“You should watch your tone with me,” Sweeney warned.
“Or you’ll do what?” I asked, “You ain’t going to frighten me with vague threats, boy. I’ve walked through Hell, trying to kill the Devil. What have you done?”
Sweeney bit his lip but didn’t respond.
“There’s nothing you can say or do that will intimidate me,” I said, before lighting myself a cigarette. I stared at the road outside of my porch, old memories flooding back to me before looking over at Sweeney again. He sat in his chair beside me like a sulky child. This was the man who wanted to destroy the Di Cesare family? Pathetic.
“Exactly how much do you know about the Brazil Job?” I asked.
“I know it was a failure. Clementine Di Cesare killed most of the men the Brethren sent out… all except for you. You were the only one good enough to beat her.”
“Good enough…” I repeated with a huff, “Hardly… whatever picture you’ve got in your head of some glorified battle, throw it away. Trust me, the Brazil Job was anything but glorious. It was a two hour long trek through Hell. And I didn’t beat Di Cesare at the end of it. I survived her. They’re two different things entirely.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Sweeney said.
“You wouldn’t, would you?” I sighed and took another drag on my cigarette.
This kid wasn’t going to leave until I made him understand… so I told him my story. I told him everything even though I knew he’d learn nothing from it.
I’d joined up with the Brethren Knights of St. Fontaine back in the 1980s to hunt monsters. Back then, it seemed like the best use of my skills. I’d done my tours with the army, but even after I got out, I was still looking for an enemy to fight. So naturally, once I found out that vampires were real, I set my sights on them. It seemed like the most sensible thing to do at the time.
The Brethren Knights fancied themselves the descendants of the Knights Templar, and they insisted that their God given mission was to protect mankind from the things that lurked in the shadows. I didn’t really have much love for God at the time, but if the Bretheren were the ones fighting the monsters, then I was happy to tolerate the Jesus freaks in their ranks.
It was 1988 when we first heard whispers of the Imperium. A supposed cabal of vampires, trying to get them organized. At the time, it’d seemed too crazy to be true. Vampires generally went their own way, in my experience. At most, they might have a partner but other than they they didn’t really socialize with their own kind. But supposedly someone out there had the big fucking balls to keep them in line, and whoever they were, they scared the shit out of the Brethren.
They’d started targeting high profile vampires, trying to find someone who was involved in this ‘Imperium’, hoping that maybe they might get someone to talk. And it wasn’t long until they found someone who did.
From my understanding, the vampire they captured didn’t seem to know much about who was actually running the show. But they knew who their second in command was… and that was when I first head about the Di Cesare family.
The name was familiar to some of the higher ups in the Brethren, and I’d heard some stories. Not sure which were true, but the long and short of it was that the Di Cesare’s and the Brethren shared a bloody history, and didn’t particularly like each other too much.
George Bundy explained it to me like this at one point: ‘The Di Cesare’s are an old family. Most of them used to be witches, up until their Matriarch turned them into vampires. Now they’re a whole new kind of nasty. Far as I know, the only time anyone’s actually managed to kill one was about 200 years ago. Anyone who’s tried since has ended up dead, so most folks don’t even bother anymore.’
I guess it shouldn’t have been surprising they’d be involved in the Imperium, but the mere mention of their name ruffled some feathers higher up on the chain of command, and eventually they put out a kill order on them. Most of the Di Cesare’s were generally pretty hard to track down, but the top brass had a pretty good line on their matriarch, Bianca Di Cesare. Supposedly, she’d been spotted near the family’s private estate in Brazil and rumor had it that most of her daughters were there too.
Normally, the brass wouldn’t have sanctioned any kind of attack on them. The Di Cesare’s were already considered off limits, and attacking them at their private estate was considered damn near impossible. The estate was located in a small mining town outside of Manaus called Refugio de Julia, or just Julia for short. The town was fairly remote, being only accessible from a few backroads and most folks tended to avoid it, claiming they’d had various strange encounters in the area. Their accounts described unsettling pale figures with dark hair and large green eyes working in the mines, although some of the more disturbing stories we heard involved sightings of other creatures in the jungle surrounding the town. Massive spiders with humanoid faces, tending rotting corpses filled with stinging bees, giant howling beasts who tore through the forest, hunting prey, and beautiful women who would appear in the nearby towns, betwitching men into coming away with them only to reveal themselves as monsters who fed on the blood of their victims. Some had even claimed the Di Cesares themselves were such beasts… although those claims weren’t taken quite as seriously.
A skeptic might say the stories that surrounded Julia seemed like little more than just local superstition… but the Brethren had been dealing with the supernatural for long enough to recognize when something was probably real, and when it was probably fake and they knew damn well that most of the stories about Julia were probably true. None of them had ever dared set foot in Julia to find out for sure, since doing so would probably be suicide, but the theory was that the Di Cesares had created Julia as something of a refuge for other creatures. Other vampires, werewolves, arachne, karah and all sorts of other hellspawn. They offered them a home and safety in exchange for their labor in the mines. Hell, the name of the town more or less spelled it out.
Refugio de Julia
Julia had been the name of the only member of the Di Cesare family that the Brethren had ever killed, so I guess it was only fitting they named the town after her.
I honestly think using other creatures like them as a workforce was a bit inspired… since it made Julia damn near impenetrable. Reaching their estate at the far side of the town would have been impossible without being noticed by every creature of hell living in that town, and odds are they’d tear anyone apart long before they even reached the gates of the Di Cesare estate. And if one had the bright idea to approach the estate from another angle, they’d be trudging through miles and miles of rainforest to do so, only end up face to face with a massive stone wall that kept the rainforest out.
In effect - the Di Cesare estate was a fortress. Getting in would be no easy feat, to say nothing of confronting the vampires within. But with the fear of the Imperium gnawing at the back of their minds, the Brethren had finally set their minds to trying.
George Bundy had been the one in charge of planning the operation out.
I’d known Bundy before I’d joined up with the Brethren. Hell, Bundy was the whole reason I’d joined the Brethren. He’d been my CO a number of years back, and he’d earned his reputation as a hardass just about ten or twenty times over. Bundy was a gruff looking man with a bushy moustache and intense eyes. During the years I knew him, I don’t believe I ever once saw him so much as crack a smile. He only ever seemed to speak when he felt there was something he needed to say. Otherwise, he was usually dead silent.
He was somewhere in his late fifties back in 88. By all rights, he ought to have retired years ago. But he refused.
“I’m a soldier,” He said, when I asked him about it once. “That’s all I am. I don’t know what else to be.”
Bundy’s initial plan had been to hit the Di Cesare estate from the air. Come in fast and loud with a couple of helicopters and see how those vampires stood up to some good old American flak. The idea got shot down pretty quickly, so to speak. Apperantly, most if not all of the Di Cesares had cursed their own bodies, causing whatever wound one inflicted on them to appear on whoever it was who had wounded them. Going in guns blazing would have ended in a bloodbath… and not for them. There were also some concerns about drawing attention from Julia. With no conclusive data on just what they had living in that town, there was no guarantee we’d be safe in the air. A few eyewitnesses had described seeing giant nests in some of the trees in the jungle, supposedly consistent with the nests made by harpies.
Flying in guns blazing was out. So Bundy went back to the drawing board and what he came back with… well, it was ballsy, but it almost seemed like it just might work. During his reconnisance of the Di Cesare’s estate, he’d noticed a large but shallow tributary flowing into the amazon river that led right through the Di Cesare’s estate. Along the tributary was an abandoned water mill, that connected to the Di Cesare estate.
He’d suggested using the water mill to gain entry to the grounds, and from there, move on the Di Cesare’s. That plan had been approved, and Bundy had been allowed to handpick his team for the operation. He’d chosen fifteen men, all of them ex military, most of them having served under him before.
He’d told us we would be dividing into three teams of five men each. We would leave Manaus by boat, and land at three different areas near the tributary before making our way to the mill on foot, where we would regroup, before moving on the Di Cesares. The reason for the division was to ensure that if any of our teams ran into trouble upon making ground, the entire operation wouldn’t be compromised.
Team 1, led by Bundy himself would depart first and land to the west of the tributary. Team 2, led by a man named Ferdinand Hernandez would make land about fifteen minutes later near the mouth of the tributary and Team 3, to be led by me would land fifteen minutes later to the east.
On the day of the operation, I sat in my boat, watching as the other two left. It was twilight when we set out, and I remember that as my team and I carried out our final checks on our equipment, the only thing I felt was a familiar anticipation.
I’d hesitate to call it fear. Fear is what came later. Anticipation is the better word. I knew we could be walking into a tough situation… but I trusted Bundy. I trusted he’d run a smooth op. God knew, he’d done it a thousand times before.
The team assigned to me wasn’t anything particularly special. They were competent enough, but none of them would’ve been my first choices. Jack McMullen, for instance, who was about the same age as I was at the time. We’d both served under Bundy before, although while I respected Bundy, Jack was wholly devoted to him. I swear, if the man had told him to stuff a live grenade up his ass, Jack would’ve done it without a moments hesitation. I dunno if Jack simply saw him as the father he’d never had or what, but he damn near worshipped Bundy.
I can’t quite say the same for the other guys we had with us, though. One of them, some greenhorn by the name of Pearce Wilson struck me as an airheaded pretty boy who’d never actually had his boots on the ground before, while the other one, Scott Barber had left a bad taste in my mouth last time we’d worked together. Barber was capable… but he was violent. This was a kid with a hell of a chip on his shoulder, and it looked a hell of a lot like that Confederate flag patch he wore on his jacket. He wanted an excuse to shoot something, and I don’t think he cared what. Under most circumstances I’m not sure I would’ve fully trusted him with a gun.
The last one though, Joseph Feng… him I trusted. Feng was the one I knew the least about, and he didn’t seem much for conversation. But he handled himself competently enough and seemed to know when to sit down and shut up.
When Team 2’s boat was far enough away, we got the radio signal to follow. Barber was the one steering the boat, so I gave him the order to cast off and we ventured out into the twilight, unaware of just what was waiting for us out there.
We landed in our designated area fifteen minutes after Team 2 confirmed they’d touched down at theirs. Our landing was fairly uneventful. Feng, Barber, and I secured the boat before we radio’d Bundy to let him know we were in position. After that, it was just a matter of making it to the tributary.
As we ventured into the jungle, the world around us was quiet. There was wind, the whisper of the river behind us, and the sounds of animals. But little else. The river fell away behind us as we moved in single file toward the tributary, maintaining radio silence as we did.
It was about a half hour before we heard the gunshot.
Just one, echoing through the twilight. But it was enough to give us pause.
“The fuck was that?” I heard Barber ask. Immediately, the kid was on high alert, with his gun raised as if he were expecting every monster in Julia to come charging at us from all angles.
I just listened, waiting to hear if there was anything else. I half expected my radio to come to life, but it didn’t.
“Team 1, status?” I asked.
The radio crackled with static, but there was no response.
I tried it again, but still with no success. The radio was working, that much I was sure of. Something had to be blocking the signal.
“What’s going on?” Feng asked.
“Dunno,” I replied. “Comms are down.”
“Down?” Wilson asked, “So we’re flying blind out here, then?”
“More or less,” I replied.
“What do we do? Do we go back… if the comms are down…”
“Just because something’s jamming our signal doesn’t mean we’re made,” I said. “Relax. We keep moving for now. You keep your eyes wide open, and your head on a swivel. We’ll make it to the tributary and see if we can’t meet up with the other teams.”
I could tell Wilson wasn’t a fan of my answer, but I didn’t much care. We had a job to do, and I aimed to do it.
I pressed on without a further word and the others followed. Up ahead, I could hear the sound of running water and picked up the pace. I figured the tributary had to be close… and I was right.
I emerged from the brush into the stream, only to pause when I saw what was waiting for us in the water.
In the dying sunlight, it was impossible to mistake the bodies sprawled out on the rocks as anything else… and all I needed to do was look at their uniforms to know they were our people.
“Jesus…” I heard Wilson say under his breath. He froze up, lingering by the bank as I cautiously approached one of the bodies.
It belonged to a somewhat heavyset man with a thin mustache who I recognized as Hernandez. His eyes were still open, although lifeless and staring in different directions, and there was a clean hole in his forehead where a bullet had ended his life. The gunshot we’d heard earlier had likely been the sound of his death.
Looking at the bodies around him, I knew they had to be the rest of Team 2… although it was a little harder pinning down their cause of death. Some sort of bladed weapon, perhaps, judging by the state of them. I realized the odds were that they walked into some sort of ambush.
“What about Bundy and Team 1?” Jack asked, “Any sign of them?”
“No,” I said. “These bodies are all from Team 2… Bundy could still be ahead of us.”
“Then we need to keep going!”
Jack turned, heading up the stream and Barber was right behind him. Feng paused for a moment, thinking this over before following. Only Wilson remained.
“How do we know we’re not walking into a trap?” He asked.
“We’ll deal with that when we get to it,” I said before moving to follow the others.
“With all due respect, Sarge… that doesn’t sound like the best course of action!” Wilson argued, finally following me. “It sounds just like a good way to get killed!”
“Yeah?” I asked, “I’m gonna tell you an ugly truth, kid. That’s the job. Make your peace with it, and it’ll go a lot easier.”
Wilson didn’t like that answer either and trailed off behind me, watching as I continued upstream. For a moment, I half expected him to go back to the boat… but no. I dunno if he found his balls or just didn’t want to get left behind, but he started to follow us again.
I kept trying to raise Team 1 on the radio while we walked, although I still had no luck. The light above us slowly faded into darkness as we trudged through the water in silence, guns sitting comfortably in our hands and mosquitos biting at our necks.
It wasn’t until we lost Feng that I heard anybody so much as make a sound, and when we lost Feng… it happened almost instantaneously. One minute, he was at the head of the group, walking just ahead of Jack and I. The next, he was gone, only barely having the time to let out a scream as he fell into the river ahead of us.
The rest of us paused. Jack seemed to freeze and I pushed past him, calling out for Feng as I did. As punishment for my compassion, I almost went down after him. I only barely stopped myself from stepping on the slippery rocks that had helped send him to his demise.
I could see Feng’s body in the water, and I could see the blood pouring out of him. He twitched a few times, but I knew he was dead. The sharpened wooden spikes jutting out of him confirmed as much.
“What the hell…” Jack said under his breath, staring at Feng’s corpse in disbelief. “That’s a fucking spike trap!”
It was indeed a fucking spike trap.
I could see other spikes jutting out of the water ahead of us, just past a small dam of rocks that were just slippery enough to make it difficult to stop yourself from falling. Some of those spikes had other bodies on them… likely members of Team 1. I only counted two, although that still didn’t exactly bode well.
“They put a fucking spike trap in the goddamn stream…” Jack said, “Who the hell does that?”
“Somebody who’s expecting us to use the stream,” I replied.
“So they know we’re coming?” Barber asked.
“Clearly…” I replied. “And they’ve got a good idea on what our route is too.”
“Yeah, no shit!” Barber snapped. “Christ… let’s get the fuck out of here. There’s probably more fucking traps upstream!”
“Bundy’s orders were clear!” Jack argued.
“Bundy’s probably dead by now!” Barber replied, before looking at me. “Sarge, come on. You have to know this is suicide!”
“Suicide was part of the job description, was it not?” I asked.
“The job is to kill those fucking vampires, not to die in the goddamn process! We need to get out of the stream and into the woods!”
“Judging by the fate Team 2 met, I’m not sure the forest is someplace we want to be right now,” I replied.
“Excuse me?” Barber asked, “What the hell are you talking about, Sarge?”
“Five men dead, but only one gunshot. How did the rest die?”
Barber didn’t seem to be able to answer that.
“By now… yes. It’s clear we’ve walked into a trap. And yes, I understand that it makes sense to try and leave that trap… but I don’t know if we’ll be safer in the jungle. Something jumped Team 2. Cut them apart, and then shot Hernandez as a warning. They didn’t have to shoot him. They did it so we’d hear.”
“Your point being?” Barber asked.
“I don’t think this is just a trap, Barber. It’s a game. Stop playing, and you might just end up like our friends downstream.”
“A game?” Wilson asked, “Sarge, you can’t be serious!”
“From where I’m standing, we have a better chance of surviving in the stream,” I said. “Look, we’re at least halfway to the rendezvous point, and there have to be at least two members of Team 1 left. The safest thing to do right now is to follow them.”
“You’re off your fucking rocker, Sarge,” Barber spat, locking his eyes with mine. For a moment, I thought the boy was going to try and fight me. But no. He was wise enough to stand down.
“If you wanna get yourself killed, go right the fuck ahead. Just leave me out of it! Wilson, come on,” Barber said before trudging over to the edge of the stream. Wilson didn’t even hesitate, just looking back at Jack and I quietly before he disappeared into the forest with Barber.
“You’re not gonna stop them?” Jack asked.
“No,” I replied. “God willing, there’s a chance that pigheaded asshole is right… dunno how much of a chance, but a chance.”
“Then how come we’re not following him?” Jack asked.
“There’s also a chance he’s wrong.”
I turned, before making my way around the spike trap.
“Keep a slower pace,” I said. “Watch for traps.”
Jack hesitated for a moment, but he followed me without any further questions and we walked in silence for a little longer.
We heard nothing from the trees. Nothing that told us about the fate of Barber and Wilson. I wasn’t sure if that was good news or not.
In fact, I don’t think we heard a thing until about a half hour later, when we heard the explosion.
It came out of almost nowhere, but ahead of us I could see a flash of light and hear the screams of men. On instinct, I found myself picking up the pace and could hear Jack behind me. In the low light, I saw a shape float past me in the stream. It took me a moment to realize that it was a severed human arm.
In the water ahead of us, I could see a figure clinging to one of the rocks and trying to pick himself up. I recognized him as George Bundy.
Jack was at his side almost immediately, trying to help the old man to his feet.
“Sir! Are you alright?”
Bundy just wheezed, before his legs gave out from under him. I helped Jack drag him to the shore so he could sit and rest for a moment.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, looking back at the stream.
“Grenade trap… I think…” Bundy panted, “Fucking tripwire… Popkov tripped it, I think…”
Popkov… odds are he was one of the two mangled corpses lying in the river a few feet away from us. It seemed they’d taken the brunt of the explosion, although Bundy still had some shrapnel in his arm that Jack was tending to.
“Christ… whole fucking ops gone to shit…” Bundy spat. “Team 2 got taken out just about as soon as they landed. Someone killed them and dumped them in the goddamn river. Lost half my boys to the fucking spike trap and half to this…”
He looked up at us, before spitting onto the ground.
“Guess you two haven’t done much better.”
“Hard to say,” I replied. “Two of ours took off into the woods, trying to avoid the traps.”
“Then they’re dead,” Bundy replied. “I’ve seen her watching us… always just up ahead, always from a distance… she’s seeing how far we’ll go. How much we’ll take…”
“She?” I asked.
“La Morte. Should’ve figured she’d be the one to greet us.”
“La Morte?” I asked.
“It’s Italian. Supposedly, she earned that name around the time the Di Cesares fled Venice. It’s funny, the Brethren like to act like the Di Cesares leaving Venice was some big victory of theirs, since before they did, they finally killed one of them… hard to call it a victory though, considering how many corpses they made before they fled. And most of them came from La Morte…”
Bundy winced in pain as Jack bandaged his arm before he continued talking.
“See… when the Di Cesare’s left Venice, one of them stayed behind. Clementine, the Scorpio sister. Guess she was unwilling to leave the fight unfinished… and according to the stories, the death toll she personally amassed in the years after the Di Cesare’s left Venice make the bodies they claimed during the Venetian Massacre a hundred and fifty years prior look like a pittance. The Brethren still occupying the city started to call her La Morte. Death. Cuz wherever she went, death followed in her wake… and it seems we’ve walked right into her open arms, haven’t we, boys?”
“You’re sure it’s her?” I asked.
“She’s a Di Cesare… and the shit we’ve seen out here… I don’t see any other Di Cesare setting those traps. It’s her. I’m sure of it. She’s watching us. Seeing how far we’ll go. Seeing if we’ll turn tail…”
“Should we?” Jack asked, and Bundy finally seemed to acknowledge him.
“Excuse me?” He asked.
“Should we? Look, sir… I’d follow you into the mouth of Hell, but right now, we’re down from fifteen men to three. Can’t say I’m optimistic about our chances right now. If this woman is half as bad as you’re saying she is, maybe it’s time we took a step back!”
Jack looked at me, hoping I might back him up, but I remained silent.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Bundy asked.
“What I’m hearing here, is that as of right now, the vampire out there could kill us at any time. She hasn’t. Far as I’m concerned, that’s mercy. Maybe we should be taking it while it’s offered.”
Bundy stared at him, before chuckling. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen him laugh.
“Just walk away, then?” He asked.
“Walk away, and come back better prepared!” Jack corrected.
“Walk away,” Bundy said again. “We walk away now, and there won’t be a chance to come back better prepared. We get one shot at this. One. Failure is not an option. We go in there and we kill them or we die. End of discussion.”
“And how exactly are we even supposed to kill them?” Jack asked, “That curse they have… bullets aren’t gonna do shit, sir!”
“Yours won’t, mine will…”
Bundy pulled his pistol from his holster. I noticed some sort of pattern crudely engraved on it.
“I’ve been doing some research… studied the curse they put on themselves… and I think I’ve found a way to break it. Not sure if it’ll work yet… but we get one chance to test it.”
Jack stared at the gun, then back at Bundy.
“Sir… do you hear yourself?” He asked quietly, “You can’t be serious… right now, even with that gun we don’t stand a chance in he-”
The gunshot echoed through the forest and made me jump. Jack’s voice died in his throat as he hit the ground.
Bundy stared at him for a moment, before huffing and holstering his pistol again. He draped his coat over his shoulders, before looking over at me.
“No room for failure, Frank,” He said calmly.
I didn’t know what to say to that. I stared down at Jack’s body, my mouth hanging open slightly. When I looked back at Bundy, he was already back in the stream.
There was a tense silence between Bundy and I as I followed him along the final stretch of the tributary. He trudged on ahead, covered in sweat and straining with every step, but I could sense the quiet determination he had to see this through. Looking at him, you could’ve told me that George Bundy could wipe out the Di Cesare’s all by himself and I would have believed it in a second.
The night around us was full of sound, and each one drew my attention. I watched the forest, expecting to see some sign of La Morte watching us. But I saw nothing, except for what she wanted me to see.
“Mill’s just up ahead,” I heard Bundy say as we pressed on, although I noticed his steps faltering as he seemed to notice something in the trees above us. I stopped behind him, looking up before seeing what he saw, and when I saw it I felt my stomach turn.
I’d seen death before.
But what Di Cesare had left out for us… that was something else.
Pearce Wilson and Scott Barber weren’t dead.
But if they could have spoke, I’ve got no doubt they would have begged us to kill them. Wilsons pretty face was covered in blood and his pouty lips were parted as more trickled out of him. His curly blond hair was matted and I could see crimson there. Tree branches portruded from his ribs, while the loops of his entrails dangled out of his opened stomach. And Barber was in just about the same state, only he seemed to at least have the ability to turn his head to look at us.
I think he might have tried to speak, but the only sound he seemed to be able to make was a pained whimper.
“Jesus Christ…” I said softly.
“He had nothing to do with this,” Bundy replied. He took one last look at the two dying men hanging from the trees, before moving on.
“We should put them out of their misery, sir,” I said.
Bundy paused, before looking back at me.
“Don’t waste the ammo, Frank,” He replied. “They’re already dead.”
“Not yet they’re not!”
“Give them time. They chose to go into the woods. They can live with the consequences… for however long that lasts.”
With that, he left them. If I were a more compassionate man, I would have put them out of their misery. But no. Bundy moved on and so did I.
He approached the water mill, before examining it. It was an old building, made of stone that had long since been overgrown by moss, and sat right on the wall that separated the Di Cesares estate from the amazon. It hardly looked secure, even if the only entrance hadn’t just been an old wooden door secured with a padlock, finding a way in wouldn’t have been difficult. And it didn’t take much for Bundy to break through that door. All he needed was a couple of well placed kicks and it swung right open.
Drawing his gun, Bundy strode inside and I followed him.
“The Di Cesare’s will be in the main house,” He said. “We should find a way in through the back, try and catch them off guard. Main target should be the matriarch, Bianca. Her we should prioritize keeping alive… the rest are expendable.”
“Much as you are, I’m sure.” A voice called from deeper in the mill, and both Bundy and I froze.
I noticed movement on the floor above us, and through the shadows, I saw a tall woman watching us. She was dressed all in black, with blond hair tied back in a ponytail and the intense eyes of a soldier.
This had to be Clementine Di Cesare.
Bundy aimed his pistol at her, although she only barely seemed to notice.
“Only two of you left… I’m not sure the odds are in your favor,” The woman said. Her voice was low, calm and quiet.
“Only one way to find out,” Bundy growled.
“And only one way to walk out of this place alive,” Di Cesare countered. “You can put the gun down, turn and walk away. I won’t stop you. There’s no shame in living.”
“All the bodies you’ve left in your wake… that’s rich,” Bundy said.
“I don’t relish what I’ve done. I simply don’t know how to do anything else,” She replied. “Think about this, Bundy. Over my lifetime, there have been countless thousands who have come to kill me. All of them are dead, but I am not. Even if you could kill me… you could not kill my sisters. Not all of them. Not before they came for you.”
“Just you, would be enough…” Bundy said, before pulling the trigger.
I knew he’d hit her. I knew the bullet pierced her shoulder. But that woman… she didn’t even flinch. She simply dove out of the way before he could shoot again, taking cover and avoiding his next shot.
“Frank, upstairs!” Bundy snapped, “Flush her out!”
I went, trudging up the old wooden steps with my rifle drawn. Only to see Di Cesare vaulting over the railing and back down to the ground floor as soon as I made it up there.
Bundy shot at her again, only to miss for a second time. I saw Di Cesare’s arm move, and heard him cry out in pain. In the low light, I could see a dagger protruding from his shoulder. He stumbled back a step, leaving himself open for only a split second.
That second was all it took for Di Cesare to raise her own gun and fire just one shot.
George Bundy hit the ground without so much as a final scream. There was just a simple hole in his skull where she had shot him.
I felt my heart start to race faster. My eyes settled on Bundy’s gun, and I ran for the railing, vaulting it and dropping to the ground below with a thud. Di Cesare shot at me, and I felt the bullet tear through my leg. I reached out for the fallen gun and grabbed it before turning it on Di Cesare, only to find myself staring down the barrel of her own pistol. My finger rested on the trigger, but I didn’t have the guts to pull it.
"Kill me, and you will not see the sun tomorrow." She said, her voice still cold and calm.
“Killing you is part of the job…” I replied, but my finger still couldn’t squeeze the trigger.
“And is it worth your life?” Di Cesare asked. “You fail your mission either way.”
“And die with some goddamn honor…”
“There’s no such thing as honor. There is alive and there is dead. Choose.”
I knew what I was supposed to choose.
But my hands were shaking, as I stared into the face of death. My finger couldn’t squeeze the trigger.
The gun collapsed to the floor and Di Cesare kicked it away from me, before huffing and lowering her gun.
“Do not return,” She said softly. “Or next time, I will unleash a hell upon you that will make you beg for simple traps.”
She picked Bundy’s gun up off the ground, and then she was gone. After I finally picked myself up off the ground, I was gone too.
As I walked back along the stream… I passed the corpses of the men we’d left behind. Barber and Wilson, Jack, Feng, Hernandez, and his team. The flies were already feasting on them. Animals had already torn at them. And as I looked down at their cold corpses, I knew I had made the right choice.
I filed my report with the Brethren. Told them that Di Cesare had wiped us out, and a few months later I quietly retired. I never looked back.
“You walked away from her?” Sweeney asked in disbelief, “You had her dead to rights and you walked away from her?”
“I chose to live,” I replied. “Can’t say I regret the decision either. Because of the choice I made, I met my wife and had my kids. I’ve lived the life I had because I chose not to throw it away on some vampire.”
Sweeney just shook his head.
“You could have gotten the first confirmed kill on a Di Cesare in two centuries, and you threw it away you fucking coward! I could execute you for that!” I noticed his hand hovering over the gun on his hip.
“You could.” I replied, before quietly unholstering the pistol I kept at my side. I aimed it at Sweeney’s head.
He stared at me like a slack jawed idiot.
“Would you like to give it a try?”
“Would you like to give it a try, Mr. Sweeney? Or would you like to see the sun tomorrow?”
He stared down the barrel of my gun, and I already knew what his choice would be.
Sweeney took a step back. I saw his hand move away from his holster, and I lowered the gun with a huff.
“Thought so,” I said.
Mr. Sweeney left me without another word.
I knew he would not return.
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2023.06.03 17:19 National_Pollution41 Face reveal please be nice to me
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2023.06.03 17:05 Proletlariet Brosnan Bond
You wouldn’t kill me. You’d miss me. Pierce Brosnan is an Irish-American actor, most notable for his seven year tenure as British secret agent James Bond. The 1990s offered a sleek new vision for what was becoming “an old-fashioned spy series”, or so the studio feared. Bond was now in the Information Age, and his arsenal included high-tech computers and weaponry along with his standard firearms and gadgets.
I never miss.
This Bond is very much the most gadget-centric Bond to date. Things as mundane as watches, sunglasses or ballpoint pens could, in reality, be grappling hooks or incendiary grenades. However, he doesn’t rely solely on technology to get through his many adventures. He’s a competent martial artist and excels in gunfights, even when wildly outnumbered. Brosnan’s version of the secret agent is, in my opinion, the most well-equipped and one of the most physically able versions of the character.
Feats come from Goldeneye, Tomorrow Never Dies, The World is Not Enough and Die Another Day. Hover over a link to see which film it comes from.
Skill Unarmed Combat
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2023.06.03 16:50 MjolnirPants Gary and the Nightmare: Part 4
The landscape changed as Gary prowled through it. It started as the farmland he remembered so well. Small copses of trees began to appear as he moved around, hunting. Between them, individual trees began to appear. The buildings, small houses and sheds, mostly, thinned out as the trees grew thicker. The ground grew steeper and mountains rose around him.
Before long, he was prowling the slopes of a narrow wooded valley. He could see ixlets darting through the woods around him. He glanced down the slope and saw a mix of greasers and Taliban, moving through the trees.
He moved further down the valley, towards the Taliban and greasers. They ignored him, except to keep their distance. That suited Gary just fine, as he was after a different prey.
Down below the greasers, the landscape changed again. The trees thinned out and vanished, replaced by rocky, windswept tundra, dotted by small lakes. He found a ruin there, massive gray stones emerging from the ground.
He moved past the ruin. Trees appeared again, but instead of oak and ceder and ash, he found mangroves and pines and huge ceibos. They came together, getting denser and denser until he stepped out onto a large rock and could see the town of Esteli spread out before him.
He continued on, into the narrow streets. The buildings crowded together, wall to wall. There were signs everywhere; for the shops that dotted the streets, for American companies that selflessly graced the slums of Nicaragua with their business, for local brands, for strip clubs and bars.
The people crowded the streets, competing with the tiny cars and occasional donkey. Gary moved on.
The streets changed. The crowds changed, too. They had darker skin and wore less clothes. Trikes began to appear, enclosed three-wheeled ramblers built around a motorcycle frame. A sign pointed him to Clara Town in English.
This time, Gary paused. He remembered this place. Monrovia, Liberia. On the west coast of Africa. His first contract for the Agency had brought him here. The spook he was here to protect had been a stupid little shit that had ruined his own operation and gotten them into a gunfight. He'd met Drake here, as well. The younger man's bright pink hair had stood out to Gary, a massive cross-section on his gaydar.
He remembered being holed up in a run-down hovel following the fight. Everybody was injured, but nobody had died. Gary was down to two mags, one of them in his rifle and the other half-empty in a pouch on his chest. Drake had offered him a blowjob for the half-empty mag, confirming Gary's suspicions about which way he swung. Gary had handed it over without a word, but as they rode away in a beat up minivan driven by one of their assets, he'd leaned over and asked Drake to pay up, half jokingly.
Well, maybe a quarter jokingly.
That had been a bad day, but far from the worst he'd seen. And not someplace he would find the bugbear.
"Where the fuck are you, ya foggy little goblin?" Gary muttered. This place felt wrong. He remembered what Inanna had said, somewhere else.
"...They're not intelligent, though they can speak."
Gary glanced around. This place... This was not a place of fear. This was a place of a curious, entertaining memory. Frustrating, at the time, and painful as well. But not frightening. Not like those fields where he'd killed the boys.
The bugbear wasn't here, he realized. It hadn't been any of the places he'd been. Instead, it had been sending him away from it. Sending him to places where he'd hunt the thing, while it...
Gary knew where to go.
He pictured the park and began to walk.
He tried to work it out. He was in his own head. He needed to get out, to get back to the real world. He reached out with his magical senses, feeling the world around him. It felt... Delicate. As if it would fall apart at a simple touch. Experimentally, he reached out with a bit of magic. The buildings on one side of the street crumbled.
He pushed out harder, reaching out all around him, tearing the world apart with magic, until he floated in a deep void. From here, he could feel the real world. It was up. He turned his face in that direction and flew.
---- Inanna Williams, Fucking Shit Balls, Motherfucking Cock Sucker
She would not
call Jerry. Or Yarm, or Sookie, or anyone else who might be awake right now. But she was getting pretty fucking disgusted with this thing. Suzanne crouched below one of the picnic tables as Inanna held her sword in her hands and kept herself between the bugbear and the girl.
Her sword blazed with fire, of course. Drawing flame from metal was one of the simplest acts of magic, an effect easily imbued into any artifact. And the weapons forged by Grandfather were works of art, pristinely forged and crafted and eager to soak up any enchantments they could. The flames were good, they helped. They weren't the problem.
Keeping magic suffused through her body was the problem.
She'd already moved around more magic today than she had in the last week. The effort had exhausted her. She barely had the strength to hoist her sword. And she was making a continuing effort to keep enough magic in her body to actually hurt the bugbear.
She didn't know how long she could keep this up.
The bugbear lunged again and she whipped her blade up, tip menacing the thing. It growled and hissed and spat, but it had already learned what pain that weapon could inflict.
Inanna glanced over to where Gary had collapsed, only to realize he was not there. His sword and shield lay on the ground, but Gary was gone. She carefully flicked her eyes from the bugbear to different areas of the park, searching for him. She saw no sign of him whatsoever. Gary had vanished.
A grin split her features.
"You are in for a world of hurt, you ugly motherfucker," she said menacingly. The bugbear ignored her, of course. It was a beast, after all.
---- Gary Johnson, Fucking Pissed
He didn't even bother with his weapons. He remembered Inanna's words, and the effect Percy's punches had on the thing. He pulled in his shield, burying it just below his skin. He poured more magic into it, thickening it, strengthening it.
He could feel the tension of the shield as he crept off into the shadows. The bugbear was menacing Inanna, who menaced it right back with her big ass sword. She looked exhausted, like she might fall over at any minute. Too much magic use, Gary thought. The rituals had each taken a toll on her, and he knew how difficult teleporting someone who wasn't touching him was.
He snuck around behind the thing as Inanna said something he didn't catch. He idly wondered why she hadn't called Jerry, but the answer presented itself before the question had even been formed. It was pride, of course. She could not bring herself to ask for assistance defeating something she'd dismissed as 'not particularly tough'.
Gary got to within tackling distance and then brought his wet blanket back up and threw it over the monster. Its blurry form solidified, the pale white face and dark body coming into focus. Its limbs were long, with long claws on each finger. Its elbows and shoulders were bulbous, its chest sunken, its hips protruding. It noticed, of course. It snarled at Inanna, but before it could strike, Gary rushed it, his temper cheering at the thought of getting his hands on the thing.
It spun at the sound of his feet pounding on the grass, so Gary swung a textbook perfect punch right between its eyes. The blow clotheslined the beast, flipping its feet forward, tossing it on its own head and neck with a sickening crack that would have killed any mortal.
Razor sharp claws lashed out at him as he threw himself on top of the thrashing monster. They scratched at the top layers of his skin, but the wounds closed and they couldn't penetrate past his shield.
He used his left hand to interfere with the claws, getting his forearm onto the bugbear's and pressing down. With his right hand, he pounded at the beast's face, over and over. Each blow crunched into the thing with the force of a freight train, the unfocused magic in his body turning itself into raw physical power.
The bugbear roared in pain and rage, so Gary opened his mouth and roared right back. The beast slipped its arms free and jammed them into Gary's sides, but he ignored them and got his left hook working the thing as well.
Snarling in rage, he snatched his knife off his chest and brought it down into the thing's throat. Its roars turned into a wet, gurgling sound. Gary pulled the knife out, then thrust it into its belly and ripping up, the force of the move shattering ribs and spraying Gary with a black ichor.
He growled deep in his chest, pulling the knife back out and slamming it into the bugbear's neck again, this time from the side. He left it there and resumed punching it, slamming his fists down with enough force to shatter the bones in his hands, leaving them just enough time to heal between blows.
He struck the beast over and over and over, ignoring the pain in his hands, focused only on hurting the thing. He kept going long after it stopped fighting back, stopping only when he felt a small hand on his back. He spun, his eyes wild and angry, but it was only Inanna there.
"You got him, Yarm," she said wryly. Gary stared, uncomprehending at her for a moment. Then it clicked. He barked a short laugh out and rolled off the thing, sitting on the grass next to the unmoving body.
"Is it dead?" he asked, his chest heaving from the exertion.
Inanna held a hand out towards the bugbear. "Yeah, it's dead."
"Good," Gary said. They sat in silence for a moment.
"The girl all right?" he asked.
Inanna nodded. "Yup." She looked over her shoulder and called out, "It's okay, hun. You can come out, now." A tiny figure moved hesitatingly towards them, stopping at the dead body of the bugbear and looking down at it.
"It's dead, darlin'," Gary said. "Nothing but a bag o ectoplasm, or whatever that black stuff is."
"Ectoplasm," the girl said quietly. Gary nodded and looked back at Inanna.
"Did you just call me Yarm?" he asked. She chuckled. "You reminded me of him just then. You were fighting like him."
"Heh," Gary said. "Balls to the wall, unchecked aggression."
"Yup," Inanna agreed.
"Don't tell nobody, but I gave a bit of thought to dropping trou and squeezing out a stink pickle on the thing's face. Just for a second, mind."
Inanna laughed. "Why didn't you?" she asked. Gary shrugged. "No point. It's long past caring what I do to it."
"Now there's the Gary I know," she said. Then she looked at Suzanne and frowned. "The Washingtons are dead. She's got nowhere to go."
"I might have a lead on that," Gary said. "In the meantime, she can come stay with me."
Inanna scoffed. "You'll adopt her within a month," she said. Gary just shrugged. "Maybe. Like I said, I got a lead."
---- Liam MacReady, On His Day Off
Liam answered the door to reveal an older guy standing there. He had a big, bushy beard that was mostly gray, a leathery face, and a figure that suggested a lot of time in the gym. He had a veteran's air about him, too, Liam noticed. It was in the the insouciant sloop of his shoulders, the stiffness of his lower back, the way he stood with his hands on his hips.
"Can I help you?" he rumbled.
"Liam MacReady?" the man asked, his voice tinged with a backwoods twang. Liam nodded, so the man held out a leather mitt. "My name's Gary Johnson. I'm with the Divine Crisis Management Group. I have some records here that say you applied to become a foster parent about two years ago, is that right?"
Liam frowned even as he shook the man's hand. He had a firm grip, but he didn't try to crush Liam's hand. Which was good, because Liam had mastered that particular show of dominance long ago.
Still, he didn't like this. "Why you looking into me, bro?" he asked.
"There's a little girl, goes by the name of Suzanne," Johnson said. Liam's hard look evaporated at the mention of the little girl he'd tried to take in.
"I know that look," Johnson said in a softer voice. "I got a daughter of my own. Can I come in?"
Liam thought about it. A cop would ask him to step out, not ask to come in. Unless he wanted to search for something. But Liam could kick him out if he started poking around. He pushed the door open wider and stood to the side.
Johnson walked in. He didn't poke around, but went straight to the living room and waited for Liam to join him. Liam closed the door and walked into the room, taking his favorite chair and gesturing at the couch for Johnson to sit. He did.
"So what's this about Suzanne?" Liam asked.
"Can you tell me how you know her?" Johnson asked.
Liam threw up his hands. "Brother, can we just get to the point?"
"This is the point, Mister MacReady," Johnson said. "I need to ask you some questions about her."
"When'd you serve?" Liam asked.
"Eighty-seven to oh-seven," Johnson answered without hesitation. "You?"
"Oh three to twenty-ten," Liam answered. "Second Ranger Battalion."
"Fifth Group," Johnson said. Liam quirked an eyebrow. "Green berets. Choice gig, that."
"Kinda sucked, to be honest." Lian chuckled at his answer.
"So how did you meet Suzanne?"
Liam rubbed his chin, thinking. After organizing his thoughts a bit, he spoke.
"Dated a girl a couple years ago. Suzanne's mom. She was a train wreck, but it took me a while to realize it. The girl..." Liam chuckled again.
"She was scared of me at first. I got these burns," he gestured to the side of his face, "In Kandahar. Don't do a lot to make me pretty, you know? But she warmed up to me in time. Sweetest little thing, she was. I never really thought of myself as a parent, you know? Always had too much going on, what with work and the club. But I loved spending time with that girl.
"I'd have dumped her mom's druggie ass much sooner, if not for her. When I finally had enough of her shit, I called CPH. Left an anonymous tip. I put in my application to be a foster parent, knowing that they'd rather her go with someone she knows. But they denied me. The club, me being single... I guess I can't blame them."
Johnson had been carefully watching Liam's face as he spoke, and Liam felt a strange sensation in the air. The temperature had dropped, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.
"You gotta good heart, Mister MacReady," Johnson said.
"Uh, thanks, I guess," Liam responded. Johnson pointed at Liam's kutte. "What's the missing rocker?" he asked.
Liam looked down, noticing the threads still hanging out. "Master-at-arms," he said, touching it with one blunt finger. "I stepped down back when I was trying to become a foster parent. Freed up more of my time, you know?"
"Would you like to see Suzanne? Spend the afternoon with her?"
Liam leaned forward, his interest thoroughly captured. "Yeah. You can make that happen?"
Johnson raised a finger. A few seconds later, Liam heard a knock on the front door. He stood and walked out there, to find a bookish-looking man in a suit and bowtie standing there. He was flanked by two more figures. One was a short, brunette knockout. She had a middle-eastern cast about her, curves like a scenic railroad track and tits that could stop all conversations within a dozen yards. But she wasn't the one who caught his eye.
"Mister Liam?" Suzanne asked. Liam's face lit up in a wide grin as he knelt down and threw his arms out.
"Hey punkin!" he cried as she rushed into them. He hugged her carefully for a long moment.
"Mister MacReady," the nerdy guy said. "I know about the troubles you had applying to become a foster parent. There's nothing we can really do about that, it's a state matter. But we have lawyers in all specialties, including family law. I'm confident we can arrange a private adoption. We've already contacted her mother at the MCI women's facility, and she's agreed to relinquish custody."
Liam stood, still clinging to Suzanne, who gripped him tightly.
"Why?" he asked.
"We want her to be with someone who loves her. And Gary is quite sure that's you."
"Uh..." Liam wasn't good with this kind of stuff. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, that's me." Johnson stepped past him and all three of them stepped off the stoop.
"I'll be back around nine," Johnson said. He handed Liam a pair of cards, which he took and carefully examined over Suzanne's shoulder. Both were for the same company he'd mentioned earlier. One had his name on it, and the other had a woman's name.
"Call the woman, Astrid, when you're ready to move forward on the adoption," Johnson said.
"And the other?" Liam asked.
"Call me if you ever find yourself willing to give up the outlaw life and work a steady, good paying job," Johnson told him. He met Liam's eyes and then nodded.
"I missed you so much," Suzanne said as Johnson followed the other two out to a black Humvee parked by the curb. Liam grinned so wide his face hurt.
"I missed you too, punkin," he said.
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2023.06.03 16:46 Proletlariet Ninth Doctor
"You know what they call me in the ancient legends on the Dalek home world? The Oncoming Storm
. You might have removed all your emotions, but I reckon right down deep in your DNA there’s one little spark left... and that’s fear. Doesn’t it just burn when you face me?
At the conclusion of the Time War, the withered and wartorn Doctor
started his life anew. Though he reclaimed his name after it was disowned by his War incarnation, he tried to distance himself from his past as the last remaining Time Lord in existence. He continued fighting injustice throughout time and space with steely determination while also remaining detached and brooding over his trauma. This incarnation may not have been among the longest in the totality of the Doctor's regeneration cycle, but marked a crucial period in the Doctor's life. Make sure to check out the Tenth Doctor's thread because he uses the same versions of the sonic screwdriver and TARDIS as his predecessor.
Sources Hover over a feat to view its source.
- Doctor Who (2005) series 1= E#
- The Day of the Doctor = 50th
Intelligence & Skill Technological Aptitude
Observation & Deduction
Physical Attributes Biology
Speed & Agility
The TARDIS (Time and Relative Dimensions in Space) is the Doctor's mode of transport as well as his home. By traveling through the Time Vortex, it can materialize to any point in space and time. Though this model is rather old and semi-functioning, it's still a very powerful object in its own right. Oh, and it's also bigger on the inside.
Space Travel & Mobility
Time Travel & Manipulation
- Travels 100 years in the future, then 10,000 and finally 5,000,000,000 years.
- Rose claims she can go on countless journeys and arrive back in 10 seconds, but didn't either because the TARDIS malfunctioned or she just forget.
- Along with twelve of his past and future incarnations, he uses the TARDIS to freeze Gallifrey in time and seal it in a pocket dimension.
- Certain points in time are in flux, meaning somebody's existence in the future does not always ensure that undesirable outcomes will not happen.
- Means to take Rose home 12 hours after her departure, but messes up and takes her 12 months after she left.
- Takes Rose back to witness her father's death, then takes her back again thereby creating two sets of the Doctor and Rose in the same place in time. When Rose prevents her father's demise, the original pair disappear. This violation of time brings upon the Reapers to devour anyone in sight and turns the TARDIS into an empty shell. All of this is reversed when Rose's father follows out his death and lets himself get run over by the same car which had been forced into a perpetual loop by Rose's actions. Though the timeline is restored, miner changes from its first iteration remain.
- Chases a spacecraft to Earth and ends up weeks behind it when they land.
- The Doctor's heroic deeds at one point in time have negatives consequences that he encounters first hand when he ends up in the same place 100 years later.
- The Doctor can't just use the TARDIS to go back in time to avert the current problem.
Security & Defenses
The sonic screwdriver is the Doctor's multi-purpose handheld tool. It's mostly used for opening or unlocking doors, but can fulfill a myriad of other functions.
Scanning & Tracking
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2023.06.03 16:42 ThatGuyBob0101 You Lose. Part 1 - Pilot
Evan heard a ping on his phone. Huh? Who was messaging him at this hour?
He pressed the power button on his phone, watching through bleary eyes as the screen came to life. It was… an mp4 file. Sent through an unknown caller ID, with no callback number.
Tired, but curious, he hit the play button… seeing himself on screen. The background was pitch black, but he still got the sense that something was moving in it for some reason.
"So, one message to the me of the past?" the Evan on camera asked an offscreen individual. He chuckled. Evan looked at his video counterpart with confusion. Everything was the same. The dark-brown hair, the slim build, the not-quite-a-bowl-cut… There was also a look in his eyes. Of contemplation, deep thought… and despair… Eventually, the Evan in the video turned back to the camera.
"... You lose."
And then the video looped back around to the start.
What... the Hell?
Evan sat up straight in his bed, looking at the video play over again. 'I lose'? What the fuck does that mean??? More importantly, who sent this? He kind of doubted that this was 'me from the future'. A deepfake? Some kind of malware scam? Whatever it was, it felt like he was about to be in for a bumpy fucking ride. Full of calls to the bank, and to his lawyer, if he had to guess.
Evan stood up as he ran through his phone, checking his banking app, email, google accounts, everything. But… nothing seemed out of place.
Except for the bright flash outside.
He turned to look out the window, seeing purple light engulf the entire town of Harmony, and then as much of the surrounding woods as he could see. And, just as soon as it appeared, the light was gone.
As his eyes readjusted, all that remained were thin purple wisps in the distance, and a glowing purple orb, surrounded by a thin disc in the sky.
What the Hell!? What is happening!?
"... Fuck this." Evan walked back to his room with intent, unlocking the gun safe and retrieving his Colt 1911. He didn't have any idea what was going on, and he wasn't leaving his fate to chance.
Maybe the news has something. Almost as an afterthought, he turned the TV on as he hurried to put on clothes.
"- and we are working to figure out the situation as we speak. Whatever you do, do not attempt to leave more than two miles from town, as the barrier is an unknown at the moment of which we cannot discern the properties-..."
The news anchor stopped mid-sentence, looking off to the side. His expression grew horrified. The man took a gulp, turning back to the camera.
"... I've… just received news that the barrier turns anything it comes in contact with into shreds and chunks, before shooting the chunks back from the barrier... Whatever you do, do not approach it. I know you're scared, but we have to figure this out before it's safe to cross. I'll be staying on the news all day as this situation progresses, so keep-... Oh, Jesus Christ, what the fuck is that thing!"
Shrill screams of panic sounded off behind the camera, as the news anchor jumped out of his chair. The sounds of meat and flesh being torn, alongside screams of pain, could be heard out of view, as the anchor tried to run. Before he could even get past the feed, though, a massive abomination just appeared out of nowhere. Three thick, spindly limbs, with muscle taut against the bones of the monster carried it forward with a casual, terrifying gait as its damp, pale skin reflected the set lights. One of two tails, the one that was noticeably shorter than the other, though still long enough to reach almost four yards in front of the creature, shot forward in an instant, stabbing its bony, knife-like protrusion into the news anchor's shoulder and pinning him to the table. The man yelled in pain as red blood stained his gray jacket, before the creature loomed forwards, grabbing him by the chest with one limb and throwing him into the chair. The news anchor was visibly terrified… but alive.
"You, are… mine," the thing ordered, its throat reverberating with each word. As its face lowered into the camera view, Evan got a good look at it. Three eyes, one of which was replaced with a blocky, blue cybernetic, and the other two on the same side of its unnatural face, rested atop its almost crocodilian head. Teeth that seemed almost too thin for such a creature glistened like metal from its jaws as it spoke, turning to the camera.
"... You… all… are… mine…"
Its longer tail fired off behind the camera, sinking into flesh. No screams were heard, as the limp corpse of a woman in casual wear was dragged over the table by the monster's tail.
"Remember, that, as you, report." It sank its fangs into the girl's corpse, before ripping nearly the entire left half of her torso off, and guzzling the torn flesh down its loose, baggy throat. The news anchor looked to be on the edge of vomit as the creature walked off.
... Yeah, fuck that.
Evans began unloading his truck. In the forest, just half a mile away from the wall of the town-encompassing 'dome', (which was the source of that purple 'mist' he had seen from his window) there was a clearing for campsites. It was dark. And far away. Which, in his eyes, made it perfect. He wasn't sure what this thing wanted, or what resources it had at its disposal, but he intended to find out. He checked the mag for his handgun again, still seeing eight rounds loaded. Same as the last time. With a sigh, Evan loaded the mag back in, holstering it before he pulled out a tent from the back of the truck.
As the wireframe came loose… he felt uneasy. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. There was no noise in the forest. No birds. No wolves. No owls. Nothing. And Evan swore he could feel the ground shaking… more and more each passing second.
Some forgotten reflex kicked in, as he dropped to the floor and scuttled under his truck. He barely got under the carframe in time, as the footsteps that shook the ground grew closer and closer.
As soon as he managed to fully pull underneath the car, the shaking revealed itself to be footsteps, as something launched at the truck at a missile-like speed. It slammed into the chevy's side, nearly tilting the automobile completely over, before giving out a shrill, ear-shattering screech. Evan held his hands to his ears, trying to block out the deafening noise as the monster continued attacking his truck. The sound of claws against metal echoed through the air as Evan saw a brief glimpse of the monster.
It had three bony tails, and a thick coat of feathers on its side. As one claw raked against his car, the creature's other long, lanky arm rested its knuckles on the floor as a third support for a moment, before the creature renewed its assault with both hands. He watched as the door was ripped off of its hinges, and the monster began ripping apart the dash and the passenger's seat. The shredding of pleather was easily audible, as its raptor-like foot grabbed ahold of a tire. It quickly kicked the wheel completely off of its hinges, sending it rolling off into the woods as it hissed out air. The tire seemed to grab the creature's attention, and it sprinted off into the woods after it.
... Jesus Christ…
A.N.:So, trying my hand at an original story again. Going for a horror vibe :P
But, yeah, comment all ideas you have for this story, bc the it's pretty blank at the moment aside from the broad strokes, beginning, and end right now, so any ideas are greatly appreciated!
Also, dw, Life of a Predator, Idiot Aliens, and Survival of the Fittest are all still being worked on!
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2023.06.03 16:41 Proletlariet Bill & Ted Saved
"Be excellent to each other... and party on dudes!" He is Bill S. Preston, Esq.! And he is Ted "Theodore" Logan! And together, they are Wyld Stallyns!
To everyone else in late-80s/early-90s San Dimas, California, Wyld Stallyns may look like the impossible dream of two slackers with no skill in anything else. But in truth, the music of Wyld Stallyns is so bodacious, so non-heinous, so excellent that it brings about an era of prosperity, both across the earth and to the stars beyond, and technological advancement so advanced that even time can be accessed as freely as a 10-digit phone number from the nearest payphone. Because of this, agents from the future utopia have sent back a time-travelling phone booth as well as information about the future to make sure that Bill and Ted are able to continue having most excellent adventures and fulfill the destiny of Wyld Stallyns.
EA = Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure
BJ = Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey
FtM - Bill & Ted Face the Music
CSxEy = Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventures (DiC Animated Series); Season X Episode Y
LAEx = Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventures (Fox Live Action Series); Episode X
M#X = Bill & Ted's Excellent Comic Book (Marvel Comics) Issue #X
BVx#y = Boom! Studios Comics; Volume X, Issue #Y
Vol. 1 = Bill & Ted's Triumphant Return DH#X = Dark Horse Comics (Face the Music Compliant) Issue #X
Vol. 2 = Bill & Ted Go To Hell
Vol. 3 = Bill & Ted Save the Universe
BV1#xS = Boom! Studios Comics; Side Story
AL = Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure (Atari Lynx)
NES = Bill & Ted's Excellent Video Game Adventure (NES)
WS = Wyld Stallyns (Mobile Game)
EHAyy = Bill & Ted's Excellent Halloween Adventure; 19YY/20YY
Bill and Ted Strength
Ghost Bill and Ted
- Build the Great Wall of China in a couple days. Although not particularly well. CS1E1
- Summon rain with an Incan rain dance. CS1E3
- Play a single player game co-op and one-handed. CS2E7
- Are able to beat Death at Battleship, Clue, Electronic Football, and Twister. BJ
- Can fly after being zapped by the F-Ray, which only convinces the brain that it is capable of flying, thus allowing it to fly. M#10
- Spend a week without sleeping and only eating snack foods trying to devise a plan to save Abraham Lincoln. M#11
- Are temporarily given God's divine enlightenment, able to see everything past and future, and on a micro and macro scale. BV2#4
- Surf on a black hole. BV3#3 They're obviously going through some form of spaghettification, but also given the size of the black hole, the audience, and the official helping them do it, it's likely that this black hole has been altered to be safe to surf.
- Have sex. BV1#1
- Do drugs. EHA00
Good Robot Bill and Ted Robots created by the most brilliant mind in the universe, Station, to combat the powerful Evil Robot Bill and Ted. BJ
They Run On Car Batteries
Mecha Bill & Ted
Mobile Suit Bill & Giganto-Ted
The Time Booth Time Travel
The Squint System
- A time machine that can travel to any place and time on earth after dialing a specific number. The number for each time and place is listed in an attached directory which catalogues most important points in history. EA
- It is stressed multiple times throughout the series that even while time travelling, the clock in San Dimas is running, so Bill and Ted still have a limited amount of time to accomplish their goals while time travelling. EA This isn't well supported by other events and usages of the booth in the series, but it is a consistent concern regardless.
- Bill and Ted can use the Phone Booth to interact with themselves in the past, giving themselves needed equipment or advice. EA
- Allow Bill and Ted to leave and then return to the exact same point in time, with 16 months of training in between. BJ
- A trip through spacetime can be cut short and will cause the booth to reappear at a median point. CS1E2
- A trip can also be reversed, allowing the booth to return to from where it just came. CS1E9
- A trip can be rerouted mid-stream without too much issue. CS1E10
- While this is not usually the case, as most time travel trips result in loops, drastically changing past events can lead to alternate present timelines. CS2E5
- Time travel 2 seconds into the future to catch an evil robot off guard. BV1#3
- Falling into the wormhole behind the phone booth can let someone travel through the circuits of time with it. EA
- Able to travel and be gone in the time it takes for a killer robot to aim and fire a vaporization beam. FtM
- Can travel to a point in time and space selected by an actual phone number in use at the time. CS1E8
- Can travel to a different point in space without changing time. CS2E8
- Elizabeth and Joanna apparently use the booth to travel to alternate timelines, though this mostly happens off screen. FtM
- Can travel to alternate dimensions entirely. M#10
- Travels to heaven. M#11
- Teleports from heaven to the earthly timeline, all the way to the Boomerang Nebula, and back in a matter of seconds. BV2#4
- Using the infinity button, allows the occupants to be multiplied infinitely to interact with all points in space and time simultaneously. FtM
- The booth can't travel if all of the circuits of time are currently occupied. CS2E5
- Travelers through the circuits of time can see other travelers in the same area. M#2
- The booth can seemingly track individuals in a specific time frame as shown by the fact that the future Bill and Ted were able to trick Bill and Ted into thinking they were rich and successful by being in the right place at the right time. FtM
- Rufus gives Bill and Ted a new booth that can trace the calls of other booths, though it tends to show up a little late. Also it's a rotary phone. M#2
- Rufus gives Bill a mobile phone which can call back the booth with the correct number. The first time its used however, it calls Doc Brown's Delorean instead. EHA92
- When Ted uses a magazine to try and fix the antennae Bill and Ted end up going inside of the world of the magazine by accident. LAE1
An upgraded directory that allows the booth to travel to fictional settings, including books, CDs, movies, and games. CS2E2
"Catch ya later Bill and Ted!"
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2023.06.03 16:38 Wanderlust063 Help. I accidently killed a ghost and I don't know what to do.
So I recently got a job at this video store in my town. The place has been open for as long as I could remember. And through circumstances I will not get into now, I was hired there. Now, I am using the term ‘Video store’ very loosely here. It’s more of a large storage facility that just so happens to rent out VHS tapes. And weirdly enough, the store actually gets quite a few customers.
I am only one of three employees that work at the store. There is also the manager but I had only seen him once throughout my whole time working here. One of the employees that works with me to serve the customers is a girl, who I will call Sunny. I see Sunny at the front desk, or in the break room making her 100th coffee. There is also Jared, the store's Archivist. He does as his job title implies. He is given a box of VHS tapes and is told to watch, catalog, and sort them into the store.
The store itself is a whole different story. On the outside, it just looks like your average brick and mortar warehouse. The inside however, if I may describe it in one word, is dark. I have no idea why but there are now windows in the store. The only windows being the glass doors at the front entrance. So when you need to navigate the store, in search of a tape, you need to bring a flashlight with you. And even with a source of light, the place is like a labyrinth. Going deeper into the store proves to be the most frustrating and stressful part of the job. As you need to do it quickly if you don't want the customer to grow impatient. I now cannot imagine how difficult it must have been for Sunny. As she does the night shift at the store. So it is dark inside and out.
Lastly there are the customers. They are peculiar to say the least. They range from salesmen, homeless people, Even clowns that one time. I've heard from Sunny that when it is night shift. You get some weird customers.
So, now that I have told you what my job is, Ill tell you what got me into this mess. I just arrived at the store early this morning. When I do, I always find Jared in the break room, making himself some tea. This time he wasn't there. “Hey Sunny, where’s Jared?”
Sunny turned her head to face me while she was making herself coffee. “He called in sick today. The manager also wants to see you upstairs in his office.
My stomach churned when she said that. The first time I met the manager I was instantly freaked out by him, his skin was almost perfect. like a wax doll, And his ear to ear smile with perfectly symmetrical teeth made me shiver, he looked like an idyllic business man, almost like a living parody of one.
I walked up the metal stairs to his office and opened the door. The manager was sitting in his chair filing some paperwork. He asked me to sit down. “So new employee. How are you coping?” His voice was sincere yet eerie. He gave that familiar ear to ear, perfect teeth grin. “Good sir.”
“Amazing news new employee! Now as you may have heard from the night shift employee. Our archivist has called in sick. So I’ll be making you the surrogate archivist for today.” the manager said. Opening his desk drawer and pulling out a key, the key’s head was painted with a pale, sickly green color. “Now I know that you have only been working here for how long?”
“Oh uh, 1 month sir.” I answered. His face contorted into what looked like a surprised face. “ 1 whole month. So you have fitted in nicely? Got along with the two employees?” He stretched out the ee’s in ‘employee’ to make his point. “Yes sir.”
“Good then. Now the green key is to unlock the archivist’s office. The night shift employee will guide you. If you do a good job, then I will give you a bonus for this week's wages. But any mistakes. Well, the consequences will be costly.” The seriousness of his tone completely caught me off guard. A hot, red fuzzy feeling grew ever present in my gut. “I-I understand sir.”
“Alrighty-yo then. Now get moving.” the manager turned his focus back to the paperwork. I took the green key from him and walked down the iron steps.
Meeting Sunny below. She took me to the archival room. “Alright. The door opens with the green key, you have it?” she looked back at me. I took the green key out of my pocket to show her. “Okay, now listen to me. If you are in any trouble. There is a black phone near the bottom of the steps. There will be two options on it. Being the front desk and the manager's office. Press the front desk if you need my help. You understand.” her voice was assertive. I nodded solemnly. She said goodbye and walked away from me. I waved and looked back at the door in front of me.
Opening the door I was surprised to find a long dark stairway leading into the inky abyss. I took out my small flashlight and flicked it on. Flashing the light down the stairway it just showed more steps. With a long sigh I stepped down, closing the door behind me. The soles of my shoes tapped against the steel steps. Sending a slight echo throughout as I descended. To keep my mind off of the fuzzy feeling in my gut, I started counting every step I took. When my foot hit the smooth concrete floor at the bottom, I had counted around 50 steps.
I flashed the light across the basement. The walls were simply just featureless, smooth concrete. The only things in the basement were Four shelves, all different colors ranging from red,purple,blue and green. An old CRT Tv near the middle of the room, it looked like one of those old tv’s teachers would wheel into class to play a movie or something.
There was also an old desk hugging the wall, only a few feet away from the CRT Tv. Some journals lay strewn about. With a singular page torn out, laying on a bunch of notebooks. I came closer to read the page. Here is what is said;
“Hey Buddy. So if you are reading this then that means that I am probably at home, in bed, coughing my lungs out. I haven't been feeling well yesterday and decided to write this note as the manager is probably going to ask you to do my job. So I’ll be leaving this note here with the rules on what to do.
1st— All the tapes you need to watch are in the box near the Tv. Pop them in and watch them. If you didn’t finish a tape. Whether it be for having explicit imagery or it was just causing too much distress. Pop it out and slap a Golden star sticker on the side.
2nd— there are four shelves, all different colors. Red is for if it is explicit stuff. Purple are for tapes that seem normal but give you an uneasy feeling, make your body ache, pain etc. Blue are for tapes that are just static and random flashing lights. And lastly green is if the tape is just a regular old by the books VHS.
3rd— there will be a notebook titled ‘Volume-124’ lying beneath the page you are reading. Make sure to document what you saw on those tapes. If you don't know how you should document them. Just look at some examples in the notebook itself.
4th— Do not. Under any circumstances. Watch a VHS with a red strip of duct tape stuck on its side. If you encounter one, then please leave it. Don’t touch it. Don't look at it. Don't even think about it when you see it.”
That was all the letter had to say before I turned around and looked at the box, lying near the Television set.
Opening the box I found it filled to the brim with neatly stacked VHS tapes. I decided to take my phone out of my pocket to check the time. 8:30.
I sighed and put my phone back in my pocket. Best to get it done and not slack off.
The first few tapes that I watched were slightly unnerving. Some were old cartoons that made my body feel stiff. Others seemed to be videos of crime scenes. I wrote down what I saw on the volumes. The examples I had to look at in the notebook just showed I had to write short sentences with a clear point on how they made me feel, what was the tape about and what category it ends off with an ascending number. ‘Tape 2234’ and then ‘Tape 2235’.
I won't be talking about all of the ones I saw. But there were a few I had to mention. There was one that was some old student project film about a half bunny, half man that was going on a rampage throughout a college dorm. The blood and viscera made me think that the practical effects of this movie were realistic. I am a bit too realistic. So I thought of just putting it on the red shelf and moving on.
Another VHS featured a documentary about this old farm. Retelling the generations of its inhabitants and how they seemingly died of strange causes. Like being impaled by a tree branch or seemingly strung up in the barn. It was actually quite a bit entertaining in the way you find murder documentaries entertaining. It was descriptive with the details. Which is technically telling ‘explicit information’, but again, no gore or frightening material. Si just just put the tape on the desk and told Jared I didn't know what to do with it.
I was finally now finished down to only two tapes. I now saw the tape with red on it. Now if I was an absolute idiot I would have watched it. Ignoring the rules laid out by my good old friend Jared. Don’t get me wrong, I was very much tempted to pop it in and watch it. See why it was so forbidden. See if it is a snuff film. But well, the fear of actually seeing a snuff film and getting in trouble for it, stopped me.
So I took the VHS That lay beside it. The name of it was scribbled on its side. ‘Lisa.’
I inserted it into the player. The subsequent screen that flashed on the tv was of a cellar door. The footage had an unusual blue, distorted filter to it. Like the camera that was filming was submerged into water. I sat there in the uncomfortable fold up chair, Staring at the screen unblinkingly. After some indeterminate time had passed. I stood up from the chair. My gaze upon the screen now gone. The sound of screeching metal erupted from the television. I jumped and cursed under my breath. Quickly flicking my gaze back at the screen.
The Rusted cellar doors were now open. Revealing a deep void. I stood. The warm fuzzy feeling I had felt was now ever present across my whole body. From the void, a pale hand emerged. It was heavily contrasted against the blackness behind it. The arm stretched out and grabbed the dead grass in front of the cellar. Then slowly. Another pale hand appeared. Doing the same as the others. The arms now seemed to haul up a ghostly looking woman. Her long, jet black hair covering her face.
Suddenly, the arms propelled the figure out of the cellar, moving swiftly and smoothly towards the screen. I couldn't help but give out a startled gasp as I was jumpscared by the video. The figure of the woman was now inches away from the supposed camera filming her. Her face is now slightly visible.
The skin on her cheeks and jaw were stretched thin. The iris of her eyes is a deep crimson color. I never in my life expected what was about to happen.
With an eerie determination, she pressed her hand against the screen, her pale fingers pushing through, defying the boundaries of reality. I couldn't help but scream in terror. She started climbing out. Water spilling over from the film world into mine. Her long black hair trailing along as half her body was now out of the television.
My fight or flight response kicked in as I grabbed the metal fold up chair and hurled it at her, then booked it for the stairs. Now I know that I had counted 50 steps on this stairway, but my feet probably landed on only a quarter of them as I was jumping hurriedly across 2 to 3 steps at a time.
Reaching the top of the stairs in leaps and bounds.
I grabbed the handle of the metal door and pulled. It didn't budge. Looking behind me I saw she was now crawling up the stairs like a feral beast. Rapidly approaching. I pulled the green key out of my pocket but it slipped and fell onto the floor.
The ghost woman was only 6,5, only 4 steps away from presumably ripping my souls out of my body and sending me to hell. So, out of sheer panic. I thrusted my leg out. My foot connected to her face with enough force that she lurched backwards and started falling down the steep stairway. The woman was wailing out until her head landed on the step. Her screams cut short with a loud crack and tumbled hearing her tumble the last few remaining steps before silence.
I was cupping my hands over my mouth. Trying my best not to scream. I stood there for what felt like an eternity before I slowly started descending back to the basement. The now familiar glow of the Tv showed that the woman was very much not moving.
An inky black liquid was seeping out of her opened skull onto the smooth concrete floor. I then remembered what Sunny had told me. And so I looked around and saw the black phone on the wall near the steps.
The only buttons on it had the words ‘manager’s office’ and ‘front desk’. I took the handset of the phone and pressed the ‘front desk’ button. A short beep came out the receiver before I heard Sunny’s voice.
“I’ll be right over.” is all that she said to me. That was an hour ago as of typing this. So now here I am asking you this question. How do I dispose the body of a ghost?
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2023.06.03 16:37 shiftless_wonder Top campaign insider reveals how Smith turned tide to win election
That day had been brutal. The week had all the hallmarks of a losing campaign: staff asking for jobs, people talking about severance and people having that extra glass of wine (or two). I got in my rented car and booted it back to Calgary, feeling like we were on to something.
It was a start. And over the next few days, we won the election.
The debate got it rolling. Everything hinged on reassuring the voters of Alberta (OK, let’s face it, the suburban moms of Calgary) that the premier could be trusted. Our strategy was simple: be calmer, tighter, friendlier and relentlessly focused on the concerns of Albertans. https://edmontonjournal.com/opinion/columnists/top-campaign-insider-reveals-how-smith-turned-tide-to-win-election/wcm/9c7dbcaa-846b-47d8-9c2d-5ca84fe2a7a6
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2023.06.03 16:29 xtremexavier15 TSROTI 2 (pt 2)
The scene faded back in to a shot of some treetops, Sammy saying "Well, even though we didn't finish, I'm glad I didn't get targeted," as the camera panned down to the Rats walking through the woods. "It was bad enough watching Leshawna and DJ go through it."
"Girl, you can't let that stuff get to you," Leshawna told her, the two girls walking at the front of their team's pack. "Sure it's humiliating, but it'll pass in time. Besides, it's not like any of us would've held your secrets against you, not when my secret was revealed."
"I hadn't thought of that," Sammy said with a contemplative look.
"We can't let our fears control us. It'll just prevent us from achieving what we want to do," Sierra told her team while focusing on her phone. She tripped on a rock and landed on her face as a result.
"Back home, there's this girl who's basically the princess of my school," Sammy exclaimed. "She leaks out the students' personal secrets just to get even with them or simply be mean," she gulped, "and when one of my own secrets got posted, I was teased for a week."
"Thankfully, my friends didn't bother me about it and still continued to hang out with me."
The scene cut back to the Maggots, also walking through the woods together, and focused on Anne Maria and Katie at the middle of their pack.
"This is the longest I've ever gone without using an electronic," Katie droned. "How am I gonna talk to my viewers about my day and give them advice?"
"You don't need to be on a device 24/7," Anne Maria spoke to the girl.
"Easy for you to say," Katie said snottily. "You don't have to worry about vlogs since you focus on maintaining your hair."
"Ya think that's easy?" Anne Maria retorted calmly. "I have to work overtime at a diner just to buy all the hairspray that I can afford."
"Maybe I could've been nicer there," Katie admitted, "but my subscribers can go down if I don't upload anything."
The shot cut ahead to Scarlett and Molly, the former looking like she's been listening to the conversation behind her. "Chris has created a disadvantage for us by taking away Katie's gadget right before the game!"
"True, but Chris thankfully had the decency to end the challenge before he could reveal any more of our embarrassments," Molly said.
"The host just thrives off our pain and suffering," Scarlett summarized.
"You can say that again," Molly told her. "Sociopathy is something that could be cured, but Chris is way long gone."
"Welcome, players!" Chris announced over the loudspeaker again, the camera cutting down to ground level to show the Rats meeting up with the Maggots again. "Now that you're all here, it's time for part two of today's challenge," the host continued, the shot zooming out to show all thirteen campers standing in some sort of wide field of mud with a wooden ramp leading up off-camera on the right.
"The 'Mad Skills Obstacle Course'," Chris announced, the shot cutting to him standing on some patch of grass.
"The relay race begins with a mad dash from the Kick Start," the shot cut to the wooden platform at the other end of the ramp, where an absurdly large rubber root was connected by wooden shaft and gear to a pole sticking up out of the platform. "Forget coffee," the host said as the boot swung squeakily back and forth in demonstration, "if this baby doesn't get you goin', nothin' will."
"Then it's off to the race against time that is the Cannonball Run," Chris said, the camera following his motion further onward to another stretch of wooden platform. Several cannons situated below suddenly blew gaping holes in it, and the shot zoomed out to show several more cannons hooked up to a scaffold over the platform and aimed downward.
"Over to my personal fave," the shot moved to the end of the platform where a log had been set up to rotate on its side, "Wrecking Ball Alley! Hurts so good," he said as the camera panned across and the titular wrecking ball swung down over the rolling log.
"And moving on," the shot cut next to a few higher, disconnected, and generally precarious platforms, "we head to the Gang Plank, complete with rabid mutant beavers." The shot cut to the mud pit at the bottom where two giant wooly beavers with boney spikes along their back were busily chewing through the poles the gang plank platforms were on.
"Followed by," the shot cut to a close-up of a large, red, butt-shaped apparatus that was moving up and down, "the bouncy agony of Double Trouble." The shot zoomed out to show four of the butt-shaped things moving up and down between two platforms.
"And finally," Chris said, "the Grand Slam," the shot cut to several giant baseball bats sticking up out of the mud surrounding an equally giant baseball mitt, "where you'll use ropes to swing into the giant baseball mitt, while avoiding those deadly bats." The shot zoomed in on the mitt, then panned over to one of the bats as a small red bird flew head-first into it, knocking it out with a clonk. "Piece of cake," Chris said with a chuckle as the shot cut back to the staring and nervous campers.
"Oh, and as you may remember," the host added, "I said that the winning team from part one would have a distinct advantage in part two?"
"But there was no winner!" Sierra reminded the host. "You canceled the first part!"
"Yeah, don't remind me," Chris answered in annoyance. "The losing team was gonna wear snazzy specs while competing," he explained with a chipper smile, "but since we never actually finished the competition," he became annoyed again, "I've decided that everybody has to wear them!" He laughed, and the campers looked behind them to see Chef Hatchet holding a cardboard box.
Dave was the first to step forward, taking out one of the pairs of glasses – thick, ugly things that almost seemed to have a greenish tint to them – and put them on. His brow shot up immediately. "Hey, what's with the old glasses?" he asked. "We won't be able to see anything wearing these!" The perspective shifted to demonstrate what he was seeing, which was little more than an incredibly blurry shot of the forest and some unknown body of water.
"Dorktacular goggles won't make part two easy," Chris said, "or attractive," he shrugged, "but it can be done. In theory."
The campers groaned.
"Since the Maggots have one more player than the Rats," Chris added on, "one of them has to sit this one out."
"It should be Katie," Scarlett suggested to her team, "She's still suffering from her tech withdrawal."
"Fine by me," Molly boldly said. "I don't want her losing for us."
"Competitors, take your positions!" he said, and the footage flashed forward to show Anne Maria and Geoff together near the edge of the first platform, the jersey shore reject waving her hands in front of her face in order to see. "First up at the Kick Start it's Anne Maria against Geoff," the host said before the shot moved on to the next pair. "Then, it's DJ versus Sammy," the brickhouse and nervous cheerleader looked about before the shot pulled back to show the cannons, "versus the Cannonballs."
"Molly faces Scott in Wrecking Ball Alley," the indie chick and devious stared at each other, the former more competitively. "B is up against Scarlett in the Gang Plank," the camera cut to the base of the ladder then panned all the way up to it to the strong, silent genius and the quiet brainiac on top, "Dave and Leshawna will battle Double Trouble," the normal guy looked warily at the butt-shaped apparatus in front of him while the sista just cracked her knuckles, "and, Sierra will fight Trent for the Grand Slam." The obsessive uberfan nervously looked around while the cool guy tried to maintain his balance, the shot moving out to show the baseball mitt.
"First team to finish wins the whoooole shebang," Chris explained. "And, the other team loses a member tonight! Since it's a relay race," he added, "you'll need something to pass: your mascots," he said with a grin. "Oh, intern~!"
A scrawny white boy with his long black hair flipped over his eyes walked up to Geoff and Anne Maria holding a pair of pet carriers; whatever was inside was snarling angrily enough for the two competitors to exchange a wary look. "Team Rat gets a mutant rat," Chris announced as the intern thrust a large, squealing, six-legged hairless rat into Geoff's arms. "And Team Maggot gets," the host continued, "a mutant maggot," a large, slimy green maggot was thrust into Anne Maria's arms.
"Ew. It's a what?" Anne Maria said in surprise.
"Aaaand," Chris said as he prepared an airhorn, "go!"
At the sound of the horn the giant boot swung down on the two campers. With a yelp Anne Maria managed to duck out of the way, but Geoff was not so lucky and got sent flying with a scream. He landed in the mud between platforms, but kept the rat held high. It burped as Chris said "And Geoff gets the boot!"
Anne Maria hopped across the gap between platforms with the maggot in her arms.
"Anne Maria takes the early lead," Chris continued, and the jersey girl ran up to DJ.
"Here!" Anne Maria held out their mascot.
"I'll take this cute critter from here," DJ took the maggot from her, then turned and ran off down the course.
"Yeah, I got it goin' on," Anne Maria walked back the opposite way...and blindly fell into the gap between platforms, landing with a squelch of mud.
The shot cut to DJ as he ran along his part of the platform. He slammed face-first into a post, then recoiled a few steps. He vigorously shook his head and sidestepped around the post. He only got another two steps before a sudden cannon volley through the floor in front of him forced him to a stop with a yelp.
Now covered in mud, Geoff ran along the first part of the platform with his rat held out in front of him. He jumped the gap, and soon reached Sammy. "We're already far behind! Go!" the party boy held out their team's mascot.
"Got it!" Sammy said, grabbing the rat and running off.
"The Rats take the lead!" Chris called out as Sammy caught up to DJ at the start of the cannonball run. Another cannon fired towards them, forcing both to dart and duck out of the way.
"Okay," Sammy assured herself, "I just have to dodge a bunch of cannons that are impossible to see!" She charged forward, leaving DJ to chase after her.
"Time to try again," DJ added in.
The scene moved to Scott and Molly waiting at the start of the next leg. Sammy ran up and thrust the rat into Scott's arms, panting after she did so.
"Wow. We're in the lead? Great," Scott realized and started to walk slowly. "Nice and slow, all the way to last place. Right, little guy?" He told the rat while walking along the rolling log, but the rat bit him in the chin. He howled painfully and missed the wrecking ball swinging down at him. It caught him and sent him flying, all the way into B.
"Faster, DJ!" Molly yelled as DJ ran up to her and handed over their maggot.
"Good luck," DJ supported Molly as she headed for the rolling logs.
Scott was lying on the floor and petting the rat with B watching as the shot cut back to them.
"Aww, who's my good freak? Who's my good little freak?" Scott faux affectionately talked to the rat in order to slow them down as B was signaling him to pass it to him. "There, there, little guy. Uncle Scotty kept you safe and sound." He saw B waiting. "Oh, do you want this? Why didn't you say so, Beverly?"
Having enough, B took the rat before putting it in his pocket and jumped on to the first precariously isolated platform. It immediately started to wobble and sink, and B quietly cried out in alarm as the camera quick-panned to the base revealing the two mutant beavers making quick work of the pole, causing him to fall down into the mud. He recovered and saw the two ferocious-looking beavers he had landed next to.
Molly was looking up and back just in time to see the wrecking ball swinging towards her. She jumped up, safely grabbing on to the ball and allowing it to carry her forward. She jumped off at the extent of its swing, and sailed further on through the air.
The camera quick-panned over to B as he hastily sculpted a female beaver out of mud. The two beavers looked past the muddy feel and fell in love with it. As they ran over to hug it, B sneakily slipped past.
"And in a surprisingly touching move, B extends the Rats' lead," Chris announced out loud.
Scott was watching from where he landed. "Oh, come on!" he whined in disappointment.
"Go now!" Molly told Scarlett as she handed the maggot over, Scarlett immediately turning.
The beavers stopped hugging the mud sculptured beaver when the head fell off. Realizing that they were tricked, they soon turned vengeful.
Scarlett hopped to the first platform. It immediately wobbled thanks to the beavers gnawing the leg, taking Scarlett down.
"Alright, my brotha!" Leshawna cheered and took the rat from the tired B. "Let me take it from here."
Leshawna threw herself on to the first butt-shaped thing, landed, and bounced off it without a word. She continued on in this way, bouncing from one to the next until eventually she reached the end. "Sierra, take it!" she yelled to her teammate, the fangirl waiting with her back turned at the edge of the next platform.
Despite stretching her rat-holding arms out towards him as she fell, Leshawna was unable to make the pass-off in time before falling completely past her and landing in the mud. "What?" Sierra said as she finally turned around. "Aww. I missed the catch."
The shot cut to Leshawna face down in the mud. The mutant rat scampered out of her grasp. With a growl, Leshawna scrambled to her feet and chased after it screaming "Get back here!"
"Here you go," Scarlett told her teammate as the shot cut back to her holding the muddy and slimy maggot out to him.
"Got it!" Dave said as he reached out for the mutated larva.
It promptly vomited onto his face.
"IT THREW UP ON ME!!!" Dave freaked out and ran while one of the beavers grabbed Scarlett's head and dragged her down.
The perspective briefly changed to show the blurry obstacle that Dave was approaching, then changed back to his head-on close-up as he became visibly determined.
"The quicker I finish this, the quicker I can clean up!" Dave told himself just as he jumped onto the first butt-shaped object; he landed on his chest with a pained yelp and bounced off, continuing on painfully from one bouncy apparatus to the next until eventually he landed on his chest on the far platform with a slam and a groan.
"And Dave takes back the lead for the Maggots!" Chris announced, the camera cutting to him and Chef on their chairs. "He really doesn't like to get messy."
"Alright, it's my turn!" Trent declared confidently, turning proudly towards the end of the course.
"Hurry up!" Dave told him impatiently.
The camera panned back to the left, passing Dave and reaching Sierra just as Leshawna forced their team's mascot into her arms. "Here!" she commanded.
"Sorry I didn't catch it in time," Sierra apologized.
"It's like they say on Blackcomb Mountain. "Best glimpse of heaven's on the way into-" Trent said before reaching the giant mitt and saw how far it was. "Hello."
Meanwhile, Scarlett was in danger courtesy of the two beavers.
"I would ask if you detach from me now," Scarlett begged while a beaver took out a bottle of ketchup and licked their teeth. "I warned you," Scarlett growled before kicking both of their groins, making them moan. "If you had simply not taken me, then I wouldn't have had to resort to kicking you two. I show no sympathy."
Sierra had finally caught up to Trent in the Grand Slam. "This is like the electric eel part of the trust challenge from season one," Sierra talked to herself before grabbing one of the ropes that had been loosely tied there and swung off.
She passed between the baseball bats, and planted her feet on the baseball mitt. Sierra slowly lost her standing and fell into the mud. "Being splattered by mud is better than being electrocuted I guess," she laughed a bit.
Back at the edge of the platform, Trent grabbed the end of the other rope. He unleashed his own terrified cry as he swung blindly through the Grand Slam, and almost made it to the mitt – but slammed into one of the last bats with his legs spread wide. He painfully groaned as he slid down into the mud.
The footage skipped ahead to show a muddy Sierra running up for her second go, the ropes once again tied to a post on the side of the platform. "This time, I should swing higher. Then I'll be on the mitt for sure," the blogger discussed with herself.
"C'mon Sierra!" Geoff called out to her, the shot cutting to show him and the other Rats standing on a nearby platform without the glasses that had been forced on them. "Swing!"
Sierra grabbed one of the ropes again and jumped off. She stuck her legs out in front of her and passed by each bat in turn. However, her muddy hands caused her to fall from the rope just before she reached the mitt and she fell into the mud.
The Rats all groaned.
The camera panned past them and on to Trent, who had grabbed his own rope again and was sizing up his next swing. "My team needs the win," he told himself, tucking the maggot under his arm as he used his fingers to frame his target.
The music turned triumphant as he ran forward and swung off. He hit all the bats, and the peak of his swing put him just about over the mitt. It was then that he let go of the rope and fell down towards the goal, landing on his head as the maggot landed on top of him.
"The Maggots win!" Chris announced, and the maggot mascot threw up on the musician.
The Maggots cheered, having also discarded their glasses, while the five nearby members of the Toxic Rats groaned once more.
"To the Maggots, the spoils," Chris announced as Chef walked over to the winning team holding some kind of gift basket. "McLean Brand Soap, Shampoo, and Conditioner. Guaranteed to wash off the stink!" the host listed over a close-up of the gift basket, showing off its contents against a radiant yellow background.
"I'll definitely keep those in handy!" Dave said with a smile.
"Make sure not to hog all of it," Katie reminded him.
"If my team was up for elimination, I probably would have been the one eliminated, and I wouldn't have my tablet with me. I dodged a bullet there," Katie cheered.
"Rats, see you at the elimination ceremony!' Chris added with his usual smile.
The five members of the Rats groaned for a third time. "I could've used the reward to wash off the mess," Leshawna groaned.
Sierra moaned as she got off the muddy floor, coughing up mud in the process. "Losing two times in a row? That's not gonna go well for my blog."
The footage flashed ahead to all of the Toxic Rats except for B and Sierra assembled at the steps leading up to their cabin. The camera focused on Scott, who was standing on the ground in front of the others. "All right, guys. Sierra's gotta go. She lost the challenge for us, and she's more focused on using her phone than competing most of the time."
"Now hang on!" Geoff replied. "So she made a mistake and slipped up. We aren't robots. I'm thinking we should give her a second chance."
"Sierra is also a big fan of the show," Sammy said. "Voting her off this early wouldn't be fair to her."
"Fair, smhair," Leshawna muttered. "If eliminating her allows us to sleep without being disturbed by her constant texting to her friends, I'm all for it."
The footage flashed ahead again to show the Toxic Rats at the campfire pit, Chef and Chris standing before them with their respective marshmallows.
"Ready?" Chris asked. "Everyone gets a marshmallow, even the loser!" The shot cut to a close-up of the strongbox in Chef's mitted hands. "But that's one marshmallow you do not wanna eat," Chris added as his assistant flipped the lid up and revealed the bright glowing thing inside.
"To the votes! The following people are safe," the host said, picking up the first normal marshmallow off his tray. "Geoff." The party guy caught his prize with a smile.
"Leshawna." The sista sitting next to him was next, satisfied as she caught her marshmallow.
"Scott." The devious, slumped forward, raised his free left hand and caught his prize.
"And Sammy." The nervous cheerleader allowed her marshmallow to fall into her open hands.
"Which leaves, Sierra and Bev," Chris announced, earning a nervous look from both teens.
"What?" Sierra asked in shock.
"And the Marshmallow of Loserdom goes to," Chris said, trailing off as the camera slowly zoomed in on the faces of the bottom two nervous campers.
"Sierra," the host finished.
"Me? But why?" Sierra sputtered in shock while B caught his marshmallow with his mouth.
"Don't know and don't care," Chris said. "You're out."
Sierra dodged the toxic marshmallow thrown her way. "It is what it is, but one last thing!" She whipped out her phone and snapped a photo of her and her teammates, blinding their eyesight and making them audibly yelp. "#ToxicRatsForever!" she enthusiastically claimed and ran to the Hurl of Shame.
The footage cut over to the Dock of Shame, the camera zoomed in on Chris and Sierra in the catapult's bucket.
"Any last words before we give you the Hurl of Shame?" Chris asked.
"Of course. Can I have a self-" Sierra said before Chris unflinchingly launched her into the air. Sierra finished with a scream as she disappeared into the night.
Chris laughed. "It was a rhetorical question. Two hurls down, twelve to go! Who will be eliminated next?" he asked the camera. "Tune in, and find out, on Total! Drama! Revenge! Of! The Island!"
(Roll the Credits)
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2023.06.03 16:29 xtremexavier15 TSROTI 2 (pt 1)
Toxic Rats: B, Geoff, Scott, Leshawna, Sammy, Sierra
Mutant Maggots: Anne Maria, Katie, Molly, Scarlett, Dave, DJ, Trent
Episode 02: Truth or Mutant Shark
"Last time, on Total Drama Revenge of the Island!" Chris opened over a long-distance shot of Wawanakwa, the recap montage beginning soon after. "Fourteen new competitors were blown away by this year's challenges," the host said as the yacht carrying the new cast was shown, Chris maliciously pressed a button on his remote control, and the yacht blew up. "They were treated to an early-morning swim," Max was shown trying not to drown, "said hello to the island's wildlife," Dave was shown to get nearly zapped by its eye-lasers, "and did some totem-surfing," the Toxic Rats slid down the hill and into the air, falling from their totem just before it crashed into the better cabin and exploded. "Ex-plosive!"
"In the end," a few short clips of Max trying to be villainous, "Max's non-stop claims about being dangerous made him useless enough that his team sent him packing, Hurl of Shame-style." The recap footage ended with Max getting catapulted off the island.
"Who'll go home next?" Chris asked the camera from the end of the dock. "And how much pain can I put them through first? Find out right now, on Total! Drama! Revenge of the Island!"
The episode opened on a shot of the morning sky and a few far-away bird calls as the camera panned down to the two cabins of Camp Wawanakwa.
The shot cut inside to the girls' half of the Rats' cabins where Leshawna and Sammy were woken up to the sound of Sierra texting on her phone.
"The first day competing on Total Drama was exciting," Sierra talked to her phone. "I managed to make some friends and even though my team lost the first challenge, I'm still staying for another day!"
"Girl, who are you even talking to?" Leshawna mumbled tiredly.
"I'm giving the fans an update about my day and experience being a contestant," Sierra mentioned. "The fansite eats up this stuff."
"Are you going to carry your phone everywhere you go just to do so?" Sammy asked.
"I won't use it during the challenges, but I keep it with me at all times," Sierra said. "Without my phone, I'd probably lose my mind!"
"So I joined the show because my friend group suggested I do so," Sammy timidly said. "They said it's to increase my self-esteem and make me branch out more or something close to those lines."
The shot cut abruptly to a top-down view of the other half of the Rats' cabin, showing Geoff and B sleeping in their bunk beds. The sound of a door suddenly slammed open and slammed shut, waking Geoff up.
It was Scott – flat against the front door with his eyes wide, his breath heaving, and his clothes dirty. "Dude, what happened to you?" Geoff asked in concern.
Scott straightened himself out. "Oh, uh... just had an early morning make out session with one of the honeys," he explained.
Geoff got out of his bed in his pajamas and got near Scott. "Why are you so messy then?"
The footage quickly cut to a scene of Scott running in terror from a Woolly Beaver – one with several boney spikes jutting out of its back. The shot flashed back to the Rats' cabin, and Scott added "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."
"Wait," Geoff stepped in. "You kissed a guy?" This comment earned him an annoyed expression from Scott.
"All right. I was out looking for that hidden immunity idol, not that they need to know," Scott opened up. "It's all part of my strategy. Let my team lose so the Maggots develop a false sense of security before I pick 'em off!"
He was interrupted by a knock on the wall. "Occupied!" he shouted until the wholly beaver from earlier barged through the wall and frightened Scott into screaming.
The camera cut back outside the cabins, zooming on on the Maggots' abode on the right then cutting inside to show Anne Maria brushing and blow drying her hair.
Scarlett walked up behind her from the left carrying a clipboard. "How were you able to sneak those cans in?" she asked.
Anne Maria placed her items inside her pouf. "Easy. I stuck it in my pouf." She noticed the clipboard. "Why are you carryin' that clipboard?"
"I've been working on sleep analysis, Anne Maria," Scarlett answered. "Your stage two sleep spindles were low frequency followed by an intense delta or slow-wave. You slept well."
Anne Maria was a little surprised to hear that. "That's nice, but don't go spyin' on me." She grabbed her hairspray from her pouf and walked away spraying her hair.
Scarlett saw that Katie was still sleeping. "Seems Katie's sleep cycle is lower than I anticipated. Had she not tried to pull an all-nighter, she'd have a higher score," Scarlett spoke to herself.
"I have the need to research my teammates and know what their weaknesses and strengths are," Scarlett said. "We were able to achieve victory in the first challenge, and I want to keep it that way."
The scene flashed to the boys' side of the cabin, the camera focusing on DJ as he woke up and stretched his arms. "Morning Trent and Dave!" the brickhouse greeted his bunkmates, though Dave wasn't around at the moment. "Where'd Dave go?"
Trent, who had also woken up, shrugged. "Beats me. He probably went to the bathroom."
"This is my first time sleeping in a cabin," Trent confessed with his guitar on his lap. "It was hard trying to fall asleep, so I played some songs that were guaranteed to make me and the guys drift off… at least that's what my friends back home say."
"Anyway, my bunk mates are pretty cool. Dave's a bit neurotic, and DJ's more soft-spoken, but once I get to know them more, I can guarantee you we'll be best buds."
The scene cut to the back of the Maggots' cabin where Molly got out of a tent that she pitched.
"I don't like bunk beds," Molly admitted with a shrug. "They tend to break no matter how stable it is. That's why I decided to sleep outside. Besides, I wanted to have a camping experience, and sleeping in a tent is the first way to go."
The footage returned to Molly stretching her body, and a few seconds later, Dave walked up to her. "Did you sleep outside of your cabin?"
"Yep," Molly nodded.
"Do you know the negatives of doing that?" Dave crossed his arms.
"I don't think so," Molly shook her head.
"You could get bug bites or get sick," Dave explained to the indie woman.
"I already planned for that," Molly laughed. "Ever heard of bug spray and sleeping bags?"
"I know those things, but why did you sleep outside?" Dave wondered.
"One, I prefer to sleep by myself, and two, I don't like sleeping indoors," Molly gives the germaphobe answers. "I hate following the crowd."
"Okay then," Dave said. "I'm gonna use the bathroom. Are you coming?"
"I'm already prepared," Molly took out toothpaste and a toothbrush.
The scene cut to a seagull sleeping in a nest inside the horn of a loudspeaker. A blow horn sounded through it without warning, though, forcing the bird out into the air and revealing its snake-like features as it fell.
"Up and at 'em my little morning glories!" Chris called out, sitting on his ATV below. "It's time for today's challenge!" he announced, the camera moving behind him to show the two teams assembled in front, their respective logos appearing on the screen overhead.
"What?" Sierra asked in shock. "But we haven't even had breakfast yet!"
"Not a problem for me," Molly brushed it off and swallowed a pickle. "I packed enough pickles for me to be full."
"And we haven't had enough sleep," Katie added.
"Cognitive function is dependent on REM sleep," Scarlett acknowledged the host.
"You can catch up on your sleep after the challenge," Chris told them. "Rrright this way, to the Bay of Dismay!"
The thirteen campers groaned, except for Katie, who pulled out her tablet.
"Hey viewers! I'm gonna be at a Bay of Dismay," Katie started to film herself until Chris used a magnet to take her tablet away. "What the?"
"Contraband! Now it's mine! Confiscator's keepers! Come on! Your humiliation awaits!" Chris told a miserable Katie.
The scene flashed ahead to the thirteen campers walking along at an even pace. "'Bay of Dismay'?" Trent told Anne Maria as they walked side-by-side. "That doesn't sound depressing at all."
"If Chris is gonna make us fight against alligators," Anne Maria said. "I'm planning on suing him after the show ends for breaking my nails."
Trent frowned, but chose to ignore it.
The camera lingered a few seconds as they walked off, long enough for DJ and Katie to enter the shot together. "So, what kinda challenge do you think Chris is gonna put us through this time?" DJ asked.
"I don't know," Katie answered without looking at him, "but I hope it's one that requires the use of a camera so I can take pictures with it, you know?"
DJ facepalmed, unseen by the influencer.
"It's been four minutes, and I'm already missing my tablet," Katie squeaked out and huddled herself. "How will my viewers know what I'm doing right now?"
DJ decided to make Katie happy. "Maybe when the challenge is over, you could get your tablet back."
"Emphasis on maybe," Katie snarked.
"I don't know if this is going to be another physical challenge," Leshawna said to Sierra as the footage cut to the two of them walking together. "We already struggled getting that totem down last challenge."
"Chris probably has an academic challenge planned for us at the Bay of Dismay," Sierra told her as they walked forward, "and I know Chris isn't lying."
"How do you know Chris isn't frontin' us?" Leshawna asked.
"Basic knowledge," Sierra bragged. "I can tell if he's lying to us by his vocal pitch and body language."
"So you really studied the show and how it works, huh?" Leshawna followed up in surprise.
"Of course I have," Sierra said. "I've seen every episode like fifty-three times and auditioned twice before being accepted the second time."
B and Scarlett were now shown walking together. "Any idea on what we'll be facing up against?" the quiet brainiac asked the similarly intelligent boy, who didn't talk back to her. "I can see that you prefer not to vocalize your sentences like me, but you're more exaggerated."
B simply shrugged in the confessional.
The static cut away to the body of water that was, presumably, the Bay of Dismay. Three structures rose out of its waters: on the left and right were two-tiered game-show-like seats that housed the Toxic Rats and Mutant Maggots respectively and bore their logos on the front; and in the middle was a single Greek pedestal upon which Chris stood in his blue tuxedo below a large video screen and electronic scoreboard.
"Welcome to the 'Getting to Know You' Trivia Game Challenge," Chris introduced. "Everyone strapped in all nice and snug?" he asked the contestants.
"Too snug," Scott answered irritably. "It's cutting into my shoulders!"
"Yeah, children's size harnesses will do that," Chris chuckled. "I'll be asking our players embarrassing personal questions," he explained, "and I mean majorly humiliating. If the player I'm talking about hits the poorly-wired buzzer and owns their humiliation before the time runs out," he continued as the shot cut back to Scott looking at the red buzzer on the counter in front of him, the camera zooming out to show Sierra on the left, Sammy on the right, and B, Leshawna, and Geoff on the back row, "their team gets a point." The camera panned across the Maggots, showing DJ, Molly, and Scarlett in the bottom row and Katie, Anne Maria, Dave, and Trent above. "First team to five wins part one, and a distinct advantage in part two."
"Buuut," Chris added as the shot cut back to him, "if no one owns up, this happens!" He took out his remote, pressed the button, and with a mechanical whir the elevated stand the Maggots were seated in suddenly dropped into the bay. The shot cut to the seven holding their breaths below the water, focusing in on DJ in particular. He looked around and screamed when he saw the large mutant shark with arms and legs looking at him hungrily, and his teammates joined in as the shark reared back to take a bite – but the stand rose back up just in time to take the teens away from danger.
The shot cut back to the surface as the Maggots re-emerged, dripping and coughing and generally frantic. "There's some kind of two-legged shark down there!" Anne Maria told the host in a panic.
"You mean Fang?" Chris asked with a broad smile and quick laugh. "Yeah, it turns out toxic waste can mess with stuff underwater too." He pointed up at the screen above him as he spoke, and the camera panned up to show a seemingly ordinary shark drinking a cup of tea on a wooden post underwater...until the screen flashed, and a picture of Fang against a simple teal background replaced the normal shark. "Who knew?"
"Better them than us," Scott said from the Rats' stand.
"Anywho," Chris continued slowly, "if a team gets dunked, their opponents can steal by guessing which dunk-ee is guilty. Guess right, and you get a point. Guess wrong, and this happens." With a sly look he pressed the button on his remote again, and this time it was the Rats who got plunged into the bay. Fang was shown tying a bib around his neck, then looking behind him just as the fresh set of teenagers came into view. He turned around and opened his mouth to bite, and with the muffled screams being heard the shot cut back to the bubbling surface. Chris pressed the button once more, and the Toxic Rats rocketed back up on their stand.
"Now that we understand the rules," Chris told them as they coughed up water, "let's start the game!" The host pulled a notecard out from behind his back. "To the Rats, now listen carefully," he began. "Who does this," he motioned upward to a picture of a question mark, "if they eat or drink any form of dairy?" the question mark farted.
All members of the Mutant Maggots began to laugh, as did the members of the Toxic Rats – all except Leshawna, who seemed to shrink in her seat as the camera zoomed in on her. "Where did you get that?" the sista asked in her embarrassment, pressing her buzzer and yelping at the shock she received.
The shot cut to the scoreboard, the Rats' half changing from 0 to 1.
The camera moved back to Chris and his card, now turned towards the Maggots. "Who sleeps with a teddy bear," he motioned upward to a picture of a brown teddy bear, "even after they turned 13?"
"Really? I thought we were more grown-up than that," Dave cringed at the fact.
Scarlett saw that DJ was feeling embarrassed. "Push the button, DJ! You're clearly harboring some guilt," Scarlett advised.
As the timer continued ticking, DJ finally shuddered, then slammed his right hand down on her buzzer. "Alright then," he declared after getting shocked, "it's me."
A bit of light laughter came from the Rats, and the scoreboard updated to show the Maggots' first point. "And it's one-all!" the host declared, earning a cheer from the Maggots.
"Aww, thanks DJ," Katie whispered to the drooping brickhouse. "I know that must've been hard, and I don't hold it against you."
"Really?" DJ regained his smile.
"I have my own collection of teddy bears in my room," Katie beamed.
"Liking teddy bears is one thing me and Katie have in common," DJ smiled in the outhouse. "We'd have to get to know each other a bit more."
"Rats," Chris turned back to the other team, "whose first name is really Beverly?"
"That's not embarrassing," Trent called out defensively. "None of us will throw a fuss over a girl's name being Beverly."
Over to the Rats, Sierra was looking at a picture of Chris, Sammy was shrugging to signify it wasn't her, and Leshawna was just waiting for someone to buzz in.
B, on the other hand, looked down at his own buzzed timidly, and after some consideration, he pressed the buzzer and got shocked, raising his hand to let Chris know that he owned up to the question.
"Correct, Beverly," Chris teased the strong, silent genius. "Rats get the point, but I would've preferred a verbal response."
"But B is as quiet as a snail," Geoff piped up. "And we still got the point."
"Don't care," Chris said apathetically. "So, as a quick punishment." He smiled as he pushed the button on his remote again.
The Rats were plunged back into the water, and the camera focused on Scott as he hollered before getting chomped up by Fang, the stand rising back up as Fang struggled to close his jaws.
Scott managed to get out of Fang's mouth, shouting "No! Wait for me!" as he swam back to her seat.
Scott winced in the confessional, pulling something white out of his butt. "What the? A shark tooth?" he asked, looking at what was obviously a shark's tooth.
The next to use the confessional was none other than Fang, examining his mouth in a hand mirror with great concern. Upon noticing the gap in his upper row of sharp teeth, he growled angrily and snapped the mirror.
Scott furiously climbed back into his seat. "Thanks for leaving me down there, team!" Scott scolded his teammates. "You can win this stupid challenge without me!"
"If he's not playing, then I'm not either," Anne Maria chimed in, the shot zooming back out as she and the other Maggots looked towards the host.
"I've already had a secret about me exposed, so I think I'll be leavin'," Leshawna declared.
"Okay, everyone just settle down," Chris told them all sternly.
"I'm with everyone else. We should stop," Molly said, standing up and trying to undo her harness. "I do not want any secrets of mine to be spilled out."
"You can do so after you've had a secret revealed," Scarlett snapped.
"Hey! Host talking here!" Chris barked. "I decide when the challenge is over."
"Whatever," Scott scoffed, having already removed his harness. "I'm out of here."
"Not until we win," Sierra held the dirt farmer back from leaving. "I am not going to have us lose."
Just then, Fang jumped out of the water and took a large bite out of the Maggots' stand, forcing them to yelp.
"Now would be a good time to leave," Sammy remarked and tried to get herself out of her straps.
The shot cut back to the Maggots as Anne Maria and Scarlett began to argue with Dave and Molly and DJ, Katie, and Trent watched the debacle going on.
Eventually, the shot cut back to Chris as he finally shouted "Alright! SHUT IT!" The off-screen arguments promptly ceased. "Thanks to that pathetic digression," he said in annoyance, glancing at his watch, "now we don't have enough time to finish this challenge! Happy?"
The Rats voiced their agreement. Likewise, all the Maggots agreed happily.
"Well you won't be happy for long," Chris told them and the camera with a smile. "Come back after the break for an all-new challenge from which there is no escape. And in the meantime," he added slyly as he took his remote back out and pushed the button, causing both teams to be dunked into the bay with a scream once more.
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2023.06.03 16:21 Jazzlike-Aide-6121 Help me find the title for this manhwa please
This manhwa only had 1 chapter when I accidentally found it months ago (probably promotional chapter).
The story starts with the main character as a child with a long hair. At first I thought the main character was female due to his face but he was revealed as a male when he is meditating in waterfall shirtless. There was an old man that trains him for years in secluded area or mountain (I forgot most of its settings sorry).
Every time the main character shows an achievement like killing a monster, his master kills many more than him. After many years, the old man wants the main character to explore the world and gives some money to the main character. I think it also has also tournament in the preview. Btw it is not Helmut. Thanks in advance
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2023.06.03 16:19 kayenano The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer: Chapter 90
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Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 90: Death Of Death
The frozen chamber became a blur as I performed a beautiful, if involuntary roll in the air, before promptly finding myself engulfed in the familiar cushions which were Coppelia's arms.
It wasn't the softest of catches. But it wasn't the softest of landings, either. Because my arrival caused her–and me–to be driven right into the deep snow beneath us. Poof
A concerning sound greeted our combined impact … and yet that was little compared to the almighty noise of the Snow Dancer's embarrassing demise!
An echoing crescendo like no other filled my ears. And no wonder.
Falling before me had been a shower of sharpened hailstones, clattering viciously against the spot where she’d stood. The chamber groaned as the weight of so much frozen snow hurtled back down meant an eruption which blanketed the air in a veil thicker than any fog or steam.
Even so, one noise rose above the din like an ocean wave amidst a storm.
“Ahahahahaha … hahahahah … aahaahahahahah!~”
Coppelia's muffled laughter greeted me before my head even popped out of the snow.
The only joy was I couldn't see anything. And yet I could still all too easily imagine her slapping the snow in rabid amusement even as she lay buried in it.
“Ahahaha … hahahahaah … ahahahaha~”
I pursed my lips as the laughter washed over me.
Perhaps I should remain buried in the snow? At least then I wouldn't have to witness her expression as the fog cleared.
“Uff … hrrghh … ughhh ...”
I put the temptation aside as I slowly rose from the snow, using Starlight Grace as a guiding star as I dug myself out. Still, it clung to me like vines entangled around a branch as I released myself piecemeal, arms and torso first, followed lastly by my legs as I slowly extracted myself.
Finally, I pulled my foot out.
Horrified, I crawled back into the hole and retrieved my boot. Then, after ensuring my footwear was back where it belonged, I shook my head to remove the white hat that'd formed atop my hair.
To … To think that I'd almost been sighted without my boot of authority!
My soles symbolised my power!
Without it, I'd be nothing but an extremely beautiful maiden!
Quietly thanking the mist which engulfed the chamber, I rose to my feet and assessed the state of the chamber. There was nothing to see other than a thick shroud of white. And so it fell to my expert foot poking technique to draw out any pertinent information.
All I felt were holes. Many, many holes.
“Hm hm hm hm hmm ♫.”
Yes, I was in a very good mood.
And why not?
I'd just sent a finely crafted hailstorm crashing down onto the Snow Dancer! And judging by the many pits I could feel with the tip of my boot, the A-rank sword saint had become an A-rank emmental!
“Ohohohoho! Behold! My ability to cut snow as I would my award winning clay busts! Foolish woman! No matter how many centuries you live, you can never hope to use the elements to defeat me!”
I filled the chamber with my mocking laughter, allowing it to echo throughout the mist. And rightfully so!
To think that my [Winter Snow Shovel] could so readily counterattack an ability with such a frightful name as [Gravity Reversal]! Why, this not only proved that naming conventions were utterly irrelevant, but that Starlight Grace proved the superior weapon!
An elven sword with a sapphire pommel? An impressive thing. But compared to the splendour of ruby, there was no contest! Not only was the gemstone I sported costlier on every market, but my sword was a thing of stories!
True, I may not remember any … but that hardly matters! Even an elven sword was pedestrian compared to Starlight Grace's long history! And as soon as I returned to the Royal Villa, I would inquire as to what they were … in order to add my own!
Yes, my own place in my family's proud legacy was now secure.
With only a gardening technique, I had defeated a sword saint. Such a humiliating loss for her needed to be sung by minstrels the world over. Did it matter if I hadn't actually struck her with my blade? No, of course not. That only made my victory even more worthy of applause.
But just in case it did matter, well–
“Oooph … that was close!”
The Snow Dancer was willing to provide me another opportunity.
Instantly, all the mist was swept aside to the sound of a blade singing through the air.
In its place, I saw an elven woman standing upon the precipice of a thousand tiny craters in the floor.
“I mean, seriously,” said Ophelia, wiping a bead of non-existent sweat from her brows. “I thought I saw the light at the end of the tunnel there, and let me tell you, it was a lot whiter than I thought it'd be!”
I was outraged.
“Why are you still standing?!” I demanded. “I just magnificently sent your own attack back into you! How dare you still be conscious! It wasn't just beautiful, it was poetic! Do … Do you have no sense for theatre?!”
I pointed below me.
There, peeking out from the snow, was the top of Coppelia's fluffy golden hair. A pair of turquoise eyes clearly blinked at the sight of the Snow Dancer still very much on her feet.
“Even my future handmaiden was mocking your demise! How do you think she feels knowing that her laughter is now wasted?! The embarrassment is palpable!”
Ophelia shrugged, wiping a smattering of snow from her shoulders. The only harm to come to her.
“I'm good at dancing. Especially on snow.”
out of the way?”
“Name's the game. Granted, I never knew I was good at dancing out of the way of my own [Gravity Reversal], but it's good to know that's a thing I can do now. You know, the next time absolutely nobody is going to turn my own technique into an ice storm. How did
you do that?”
I raised Starlight Grace.
“Through effort and countless hours dedicated to my craft,” I replied, incensed that she lacked the common decency to even feign being deceased. “And if you enjoyed the spectacle, then I'll be delighted to demonstrate it to you once again!”
The elven woman wore a look of academic curiosity on her face.
“Oh? With your ice technique ... or perhaps your wind one? Gotta admit, that one almost hit me. Good thing I'm also fast, huh? A variable speed skill. It's more like a spell. That's impressive. I'm guessing it's your signature ability?”
“Quite so. I favour it for the removal of insects without the harming of leaves.”
The Snow Dancer smiled.
Then, she adjusted her feet, adopting a ready posture while sheathing her blade once more.
“I like you. It's been a long time since anybody's stopped my attacks. It's great! It's even enough to make me forget the boredom. And I've been so, so
I raised an eyebrow.
Yes, my gardening techniques were somewhat becoming more akin to Clarise's wild experiments than ways to shoo away caterpillars these days. I wouldn't deny that. But a sword saint should also be able to cut faster than the eye could follow.
This is not the impression I had so far. Had her foes been so poor that they'd simply accepted their fates without so much as a look of indignation?
“I believe the quality of your opponents have been severely lacking,” I said, quite honestly.
“I think so, too.” Fwishhh
Brimming with joyful, murderous intent, a newly made circle of pure golden flames suddenly erupted around the Snow Dancer's figure. Snow melted around her in a blazing ring, and yet the newly billowing smoke failed to hide the smile keener than any blade.
This, I knew, was not [Gravity Reversal].
“I mean, I'm pretty sure the boredom's driven me insane. Actually insane. Do you know how long it's been since I've actually spoken this much with someone? Actually spoken, that is. And not whatever weird stuff I say when I'm speaking out loud. This is definitely the reason I'm still single.”
Suddenly, I felt my bangs rustling against my forehead as an unknown breeze swept through the chamber. It fell across the elven woman, lifting her own silver hair as though she were stood upon a clifftop.
“So, I'm feeling flashy! And since you've used your own signature ability, I'm going to do something special and use mine. I mean, I haven't done it for a while, so I hope you don't mind if I lose my footwork slightly. But well, I'm also not looking forward to being bored again, so maybe it's okay to miss just once.”
The Snow Dancer let out a short breath, her eyes closing.
When she opened them again, nothing could be seen of the blue irises.
Instead, they blazed with a golden light.
“Eh, who am I kidding,” said Ophelia, slowly drawing her sword, now glimmering with a light to match her eyes. “I never miss. After all ... mine is the sword to pierce the void, cutting a path through boundless infinity.
The elven woman pushed back on her heel.
“Snow Helix Form, 10th Stance
… [Yuleblade Dance].”
And then–she skipped.
In that moment, the very air between us shattered.
As if reality itself made way for her oncoming attack, everything between us cracked
into a thousand fragments as viscerally as broken glass. The pieces floated with the grace of dandelion seeds, each shard a kaleidoscope of colour and dazzling light as hints of pure darkness appeared between the cracks.
As she skipped, she danced, the fragments of reality collected around her drawn sword as she spun. The shards gathered and coalesced around her blade, before trailing behind her as an exact mirror copy. And not just one.
They were endless.
In that moment, she had covered the distance between us. And I understood why Ophelia was more than a sword saint.
She was the Snow Dancer. And this was her ballroom.
Because as she approached, only the snow was undisturbed.
She glided upon it like a swan in a lake as behind her, countless copies of her sword trailing in her wake as she spun like a dancer with a ribbon.
Ophelia danced with footwork lighter than air.
And this time, there was no quelling with my scowl.
Innumerable swords twisted and ripped from reality followed her like deadly marionettes upon strings, each poised in an executing attack. Even if one blade was stopped, those that followed would continue unhindered. Her [Yuleblade Dance] was not a strike, but an ode to death as she elegantly skipped and twirled towards me.
This was indeed a problem. For her
Because if the Snow Dancer wished to dance, then she needed an invitation.
My …. was what I was seeing true?
A mere titled commoner, lower than the lowest of nobility, daring to assume she could dance with me?
The … The sheer nerve! The cheek! The absolute disrespect!
I could put up with holes in the ceiling! Minotaurs robbing me! Rusty traps trying to murder me!
But for the Snow Dancer to not know dancing etiquette was an absolute travesty to common decency! Who did she bribe to attain her title?!
There was protocol! Heaps of it! More than could be written in any rulebook!
To do away with social convention with such callous disregard was an insult to my status and time! Inquiries needed to be made! Courtesies exchanged! Gifts rendered! Did she not realise how staggeringly popular I was?!
Why, the waiting list to dance with me stretched longer than the walls of the Royal Villa! During a soirée, the queue stretched so far that a sign denoting waiting time needed to be utilised!
No … were this a clash of swordsmanship, then I'd have no answer.
But if this was a dance, then I was peerless
Because while snow was this woman's ballroom, this entire kingdom was my court. And upon it, I chose who to dance with.
As the sword saint neared and reality bent to her will, I refused to humour her request.
With Starlight Grace raised, I adopted a pose in readiness. The Snow Dancer smiled in response, skipping towards me as her silver sword stood poised to meet my heart.
I turned and stuck my leg out.
The Snow Dancer blinked.
The next moment, all I saw of the elven woman was her bewildered expression as my foot caught her ankle.
Here it was! My ultimate ability! … Again!
Absolute refusal of all uninvited solicitations without first having adhered to correct social formalities!
Faced with instincts hardened through years of declining the ungracefulness of lesser nobility at our soirées, I turned as I would should a mere baroness seek to catch me unawares–before inconspicuously sending her toppling, publicly maintaining deniability while also leaving no doubt as to what I'd done!
But for the Snow Dancer, it wasn't the smooth marble floor of the Royal Villa which met her tumbling fall.
Instead–the sword saint flew uncontrollably forwards, crashing violently face first into a very large and very hard pillar.
As she met the ancient stonework to an eruption of snow, dust and rubble, a crack worthy of a wince sounded throughout the chamber.
Then came the swords waltzing in her wake.
They smashed into and through the pillar. A groan of broken masonry sounded as the elven-woman shaped indent in the pillar fully shattered and broke. Chunks of rubble collapsed atop the prone sword saint, burying her in a mound worthy of a tombstone.
A dollop of snow fell as the dust cleared. And after a long moment, all that could be spied within the mess of broken stone was a small bed of silver hair covered in a blanket of misery.
I peered, waiting for the movement.
The obstinacy of an A-rank sword saint who escaped shattering hailstorms and blasts of wind as easily as a cat leaping from fence to fence.
Instead, all I received was a pitiful groan.
“...... Uuuuhhhhh …...”
I raised my hand to my lips.
Indeed, the soirée was a battleground of sabotage as nobility warred with a deftness of feet to put even the Snow Dancer to shame!
And I danced greater than them all!
Off to the side, an extremely unhelpful clockwork doll stole my laughter.
At some point, she'd extracted herself from the snow and was now a white barrel, rolling to and fro as she occasionally slapped her palms down around her.
“Ahhahahahaha … ahahhahahah … ahhahaahhaahh ...”
I pursed my lips, considered waiting for her amusement to subside … then decided to continue laughing as well.
Why, if I intended to mock my fallen opponent regardless, then I may as well do so while my future handmaiden could join me in a derisive chorus!
“Behold, Coppelia! See how the inelegant fall to their own naïvety! The woman may be a sword saint, but in the end, she possessed the oafishness of countryside nobility! Against my fleet footwork, she had as much hope of victory as she did against the stars!”
“Ahahaha … I can … I can see that … ahahah … it was … it was … just as I expected … ahahahahha~”
N-Naturally, her confidence in me was well placed!
Even so, I preferred that she endeavour to rush to my assistance whenever I was faced with mortal peril. Clearly, work was needed. While a handmaiden who knew not to take away from my limelight was a valuable asset, there was also ample opportunity to demonstrate unerring loyalty by wilfully throwing herself against foes.
But like all things, there was a queue to my time.
And so–to matters at hand.
“Come, Coppelia!” I said, turning from the bundle of silver hair as a fresh heap of snow landed on her groaning form. “Aquina's treasury awaits! Only a single door now seeks to stand between us and our rightfully owed taxes!”
Suddenly, Coppelia looked up from her freshly rolled bed of snow.
The smile she wore elevated upwards by several degrees. Her eyes glittered with the promise of revelry. And for me, that was more worrisome than any sword saint.
“Actually, I don't think the door's going to be a problem.”
Then, I turned fully around–only to witness the arched door to Aquina's vault parting, its great weight shovelling snow out of its path as easily as a dragon's tail. Quack, quack. Quack, quack.
As it opened, a fluffy white duck waddled in through the gap.
A moment later, the vault fully revealed itself, and then I saw to whom its allegiance was sworn.
Because basking beneath streams of moonlight was the figure of someone I'd never seen before. A woman whose beautiful appearance elicited no recognition from me.
Still, I knew who she was without question.
After all, I was royalty.
And I could sense when another of my stature was present. Especially when she sat on a makeshift throne of snow and coins, possessed dazzling wings of mirror-like beauty, and wielded a fine crystal teacup in her hand.
The Winter Queen, it seems, had come to the Kingdom of Tirea.
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2023.06.03 16:17 Jazzlike-Aide-6121 Help me find the sauce
This manhwa only had 1 chapter when I accidentally found it months ago (probably promotional chapter).
The story starts with the MC that was a child and had a long hair. At first I thought the MC was female due to its face but revealed as a male when he is meditating in waterfall shirtless. There was an old man that trains him for years in secluded area or mountain (I forgot most of its settings sorry).
Every time the MC shows an achievement like killing a monster, his master killed many more than him. After many years, the old man wants the MC to explore the world and give some money to the MC. I think it also has also tournament in the preview.
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2023.06.03 16:10 YaaliAnnar NoP: Lost and Found (57)
First Previous Memory Transcription Subject: Tresn, Arxur Defector
Date [Standard Human Reckoning]: 2136-10-22
After the encounter with the disdainful zurulian, Elangkasa led me to another section of the medical complex. We navigated through the makeshift path until we arrived at a building. The painted sign marked this as "Recovery Center".
Inside I found a hive of movement and noise. Humans filled the space and engaged in different activities meant to acclimate them to their prosthetic limbs. Sounds of encouragement and determination echoed in the room. A unique mix of scents filled the air, warm metal, the clinical smell of antiseptic, and the underlying current of human sweat.
One side of the room housed various forms of mobility training. Here, individuals learned to walk again, their new legs carrying them across varieties of terrains from flat platforms to uneven rocky surfaces, all designed to mimic real-world conditions. The patients stumbled, recovered, and started to find their footing.
In a separate section, people sat around tables with an array of tactile puzzles and dexterity tools strewn around. Their faces scrunched in concentration, brows furrowed and lips pursed as they manipulated small objects or practiced precise movements with their acquired hands. The mechanical digits moved with a jerky grace but grew more fluid with each passing moment. A chorus of patient encouragement followed the quiet clinks and clatters of dropped objects.
A human figure clad in the typical uniform of the facility came toward us. An intricate headgear on their head concealed their mane.
"Ah, is this the arxur?" My translator assigned her feminine voice. "Hi, I'm Ida."
"Hi Ida," Elangkasa shared a formal nod with the other human. "This is Tresn."
"Thanks, Coordinator," Ida responded with another nod. "I can handle it from here."
After a quick farewell, Elangkasa left me in the capable hands of Ida. I looked around the bustling hall, my gaze sweeping over the flurry of activity.
"So... this is where you train people to adapt to their new limbs?"
"Yeah. Do you have your prosthesis?" Ida inquired, her voice carrying a professional tone laced with underlying warmth.
"Sure," I responded, reaching for the bag slung over the back of my wheelchair. From its depths, I extracted the mechanical feet.
"Hmm, interesting. This doesn't resemble an arxur foot at all," Ida observed, her dark eyebrows arching as she scrutinized the unconventional prosthetic.
"Indeed, I drew inspiration from your planet's creatures," I replied, a hint of pride slipping into my tone. "You have a species related to your kind, yes? I believe they're referred to as monkeys?"
"I see..." Ida murmured, a thoughtful expression wrinkling her forehead. I felt a slight apprehension in her voice. "But can you control such a thing?"
"Watch this!" Excitement coursed through me as I manipulated the intricate prosthetic. With a flex of my thoughts, the prosthetic responded, the claws moving with surprising fluidity, much like an additional set of hand paws.
"Excellent!" Ida exclaimed, her face lighting up in a wide smile. She clapped her hands together.
With practiced ease, the human-assisted me in attaching the prostheses. She produced a sturdy belt, custom-made to secure the prostheses and ensure they stayed attached. As the weight of my body pressed onto the artificial limbs, I felt a dull throbbing at the ends of my stumps. The sensation felt odd, not quite pain, but rather, a constant reminder of the foreign appendages now attached to my body.
For starters, I had a simple exercise, designed to introduce my body to a new way of movement. I had to walk between two parallel bars. My arms took some of the weight as I grabbed the bar and attempted to maneuver my prosthetic feet. I tried to replicate my usual gait, letting the claws on my new limbs ripple and flex in what I hoped was a natural manner.
However, it became apparent that just manipulating the claws of my prostheses didn't suffice. I needed to master the motion of bending the wrist and ankle analogs, a detail I hadn't considered before. My first steps came out as awkward and clumsy, a far cry from the graceful movements I had imagined.
Our rehabilitation session continued until a sharp, persistent ache at the base of my stumps signaling me to stop. Back in my wheelchair again, I maneuvered my way to the comfort of my assigned habitation unit. With my friends engrossed in their volunteer duties, I only had myself. The silence in the room reminded me back when I had to stay hidden in the camp. In those quiet moments, my thoughts strayed to my predicament, wishing for a rapid recovery that would free me from my solitude and allow me to stand beside my companions, contributing to helping humans.
Amid my reflection, my mind wandered back to a previous interaction with a human acquaintance named Jagomerah. I remembered his offer to meet up if I ever found myself in Purwakarta, prompting me to revisit our old messages on social media.
"Hi there, Jagomerah," I initiated the conversation, my fingers tapping out the words on the screen. "I've made it to Purwakarta, Sector Twelve to be precise."
He sent a swift and enthusiastic response, "No way! Alright, meet me at Sector Ten's plaza at 16:00 then."
"Looking forward to it," I typed back, a flicker of anticipation sparking within me.
As the time neared the fifteenth hour, my human friends returned, their faces flush with the day's exertion. To pass the time while waiting for our remaining companions, we played a game of human cards.
Bolad and Vani appeared a half-hour later, their arrival completing our little circle. With everyone present, I proposed an expedition to Sector Ten and I was met with eager nods and enthusiastic agreement. Thus, our band of six ventured, weaving through the intricate maze of sectors within the camp. I met several arxur on my way, always giving me a look of disapproval. Upon reaching the bustling plaza of Sector Ten, I shot a quick message to Jagomerah, notifying him of our arrival. It didn't take long for our gaze to meet each other.
To my surprise, Snop already knew this Jagomerah person. She referred to him as a "scalie", an apparent misnomer given the absence of any discernible scales on his skin.
A sharp voice cut off our introduction. "Have you no shame?" The words came from the female arxur who had been standing behind Jagomerah. Her eyes glared at me with a chilling reproof. "Wasting resources like this, when others are clinging to life."
Jagomerah, the human with a mane of untamed curls, turned back to meet Lovaz's scathing gaze. "What are you talking about?" he asked. His voice was a gruff contrast to her icy disdain.
With an indignant huff, Lovaz gestured at me, her clawed hand sweeping in my direction. "Look at him! He's nothing more than a drain on society now."
"Lovaz," Jagomerah said in a stern voice. The curly-maned human squared his shoulders and met the arxur's gaze with unwavering defiance. "What do you do to an injured arxur?"
"We do nothing." She snapped, her tail lashing with irritation. "It is the responsibility of the impaired to stop being a burden to our society."
"In human society, it's the responsibility of the society to care for the impaired," Jagomerah retorted, his dark eyes never leaving Lovaz's.
"This weakness," Lovaz spat out the word with such venom, "is why all this happened to you, human."
Jagomerah's gaze hardened. With a swift movement of his left arm, he pulled his armband aside, revealing a metallic ring. His fingers moved over the surface of his arm, found a hidden latch, and with a quick twist, the arm detached. The purpose of his armband became clear to me in that instant. The fabric covered the prosthetic limb's attachment point.
"See this?" Jagomerah held up his detached arm. "This hand can crush your windpipe. Not so weak now, huh?"
Modern arxurs only understood the language of strength and violence. From what I had learned about humans, a display like Jagomerah's could escalate into a fight. Yet the arxur woman just chuckled, her sharp teeth gleaming in a predatory grin. "Okay… I see your point."
"Hey...Tresn wasn't it?" Jagomerah said, his voice had a note of regret in it. I inclined my head in response. "I must apologize for my earlier suspicion."
I looked at his arm, or rather, the empty space where they should have been. "So...uh, what happened to your arm?"
"Well, see, I'm a firefighter," Jagomerah began, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of long-held sadness. The metal arm detached from his body was held in his remaining hand. "When you're fighting a beast of fire, sometimes it bites back. Burning debris can fall, and sometimes it traps someone whose means of escape is for his comrade to make a tough call because the fire is spreading."
As Jagomerah talked, his fingers worked on his mechanical limb. The sight fascinated me, the gleaming metallic end, the intricate design, and the way the parts clicked into place with a satisfying sound. Each movement reflected countless repetitions and a depth of familiarity that looked almost second nature.
His gaze turned to me, a question hanging in the air between us. "What about you? How did it happen?"
"Grenade," I replied, the single word packed with echoes of a past I wasn't quite ready to delve into.
"My shift has started, but I have time before I have to go to Greater Jakarta for the next twenty hours. Maybe I can show you around?"
I looked at Lovaz's whose hard gaze still didn't escape me. I met her glare with a smile, feeling a touch of defiance rise in me.
"Why do you care so much about this defective one?" Lovaz spat.
Jagomerah shrugged "He seemed nice. You don't have to come along with me. Just…reconvene at the meeting point at 18:45"
The tension between us hung palpably in the air as Lovaz lingered, shooting one last look of contempt my way before she walked away, her tail slapped against Jagomerah's leg.
"Well… that was something," Johan murmured. "The arxurs aren't one for much for socialization, are they?"
Feeling an odd kinship with the human, I decided to explain, "The only necessary relationship in the Dominion is between you and the State. Some arxurs would take a mate, but it's always in the service of the State. A mate could keep an eye on you in the field and administer first aid if needed."
"If you have a mate," Vani began. "what would he do if the incident with the farsul happened?"
I looked down at my lap, my scales catching the low light. "He would leave me to die." My voice sounded heavy with a bitter truth.
Everyone fell silent for a moment.
"Let's not dawdle," Jagomerah interrupted, shifting the atmosphere with a few words. "Follow me."
As we moved, I found myself questioning the cyborg. "What are you doing here?"
Jagomerah stopped, turning back to me. "Wait... you do have the concept of disaster relief... right?"
I blinked, my mind racing. "Uh... the closest thing we have is asset recovery," I said, embarrassed. "Your description on social media says you fight the fire, right? Do you put out conflagration?"
"That's right," he walked away again, his mechanical limb gesturing for us to continue following him.
As we moved, Jagomerah began to explain his role. It went beyond just putting out raging fires but it also involved pulling out survivors or bodies, clearing away the debris, and ensuring the remaining structures had enough integrity for rebuilding to commence. Their dedicated work created the foundation on which the rest of the humans could begin reconstructing the city.
After navigating the winding alleys of Sector Ten, we arrived at a prefabricated building near a wide road that allowed for the movement of large vehicles. Indeed, several huge vehicles bordered the building. Jagomerah led us through one of the gates in the building into a cavernous room. Inside, we saw a massive vehicle with dimensions larger than Johan's already big van. Humans moved around it in coordinated chaos, packing the vehicle with an assortment of tools and supplies.
All sorts of rescue gear adorned the walls. Some of them looked familiar to me, hoses coiled, axes with their blades shining under the overhead lights, ladders arranged according to size, and sledgehammers. There were also some that looked more complicated, from the design, I guessed that it uses hydraulics to help prop something or force something to open.
Lockers, each personalized with a human name, added a touch of individuality to the otherwise functional room. The heavy scent of rubber and metal hung in the air. Dominating the far end of the room, a large digital display showcased a detailed map of Greater Jakarta. The multitude of markings and notes told a silent story of planning, strategic thinking, and past operations.
A human woman approached Jagomerah, her greeting a bark, "Hey, Agni!"
Agni? Perhaps that was his other name, just like Snop was also known as Kirani. I found myself a little puzzled, having to familiarize myself with the concept of people using multiple names for everyday social life, not for espionage.
The human's skin was a deeper shade of brown, her hair coiled and secured into a neat bun. Her gaze turned to me, her eyes widening in surprise. "Whoa… what happened to that guy?"
"Grenade," Jagomerah replied, the single-word explanation heavy with unspoken stories.
Her eyes narrowed, "You're not replacing Lovaz with them, are you?"
"No," he assured her, his tone calm and clear. "Lovaz should arrive after breaking the fast. I'm taking this arxur and his friend here to look around."
We introduced ourselves with Johan kicking off the process. When my turn arrived, I said to myself with a touch of embarrassment, "My name is Tresn, right now… I'm not able to contribute."
A man, his face marked by burn scars that halted the growth of facial fur, chimed in, "Of course, you can't. No one in the right mind would ask you to work. Focus on your healing first."
Jagomerah then guided us through the process of their preparation. He explained what each item in the stacks of supplies was for. Besides the collection of essentials like food and water, and medical kits it also featured an impressive array of construction tools. I watched as teams worked together, loading supplies into vehicles, and checking and double-checking their lists. I saw clusters of team members in huddled discussions, their focus on tablets displaying complex documents. I watched them practice procedures, going through the motions of first aid, victim search, debris clearing, and evacuation protocols.
At one point Jagomerah introduced us to one of the drones that would help them. It looked like a human if a human was made out of blocks. The drone excited Johan and Cynthio and the two humans began interrogating the machine.
The buzz of activity that had characterized this place began to fade as the time for meal approached. People moved away from their tasks, converging towards the dining halls, the scent of food replacing the scent of rubber and metal.
Jagomerah and his team brought me towards the carnivore dining hall, a part of the camp designed to accommodate species with diets like us. My roommates, meanwhile, wandered off towards the herbivore hall. There were many arxurs present, and though I could feel their glances on my scarred form, none approached me.
The dining area was divided into two queues. One led to a spread of raw meat where the arxurs could pile their trays high with a selection of proteins. The second queue catered to a more human palate, featuring cooked dishes.
When I joined the line for the human food, Jagomerah looked at me in surprise. But he nodded in approval after I explained that I prefer cooked meat now. He told me that the dish for the night was Rawon, a delicious black soup cooked with a special kind of plant that contains hydrogen cyanide.
"Yeah, but the plant has been processed to remove that toxin away. See... this is why we process food and cook them." He looked at the line of arxurs helping themselves to the blocks of meat. "I can't imagine eating them, so chewy and bland, even our raw meat dishes have seasoning in them."
That remark intrigued me. "Wait, you have raw meat dishes too?"
"Sure, we have-"
"Next!" The human server shouted. Our discussion had made a large gap between us and the last human.
"Okay, let's get this rawon first."
I noticed that the humans also have white plant matter called 'rice' to go with the rawon. For me, I would have just the soup, rich, aromatic, and packed with chunks of meat. To my delight, the meal also came with boiled eggs. Settling down with humans felt different from the stern, disapproving arxur tables back at the fleet. Here, Jagomerah and his team shared jokes, stories, and smiles as we ate. As we tucked into our meals, I shared my own tale, the official version of my crash landing.
Jagomerah listened, his gaze serious. When I finished, he took a moment before speaking. "When Lovaz says… I'm sorry… 'defective'… she's referring to more than just your physical condition, right?" He paused, recalling our earlier conversation. "You said the same to me when we chatted."
"Yeah... us Arxurs aren't supposed to be like... this." I gestured towards myself.
"I'm glad that you're like this," Jagomerah patted my shoulder. I didn't think he said that in pity, but rather understanding, and acceptance.
A soft chiming sound echoed from his wrist, drawing our attention. Jagomerah glanced down at the device strapped around his wrist, his eyes scanning over the display.
"Ah, duty calls," he sighed. I could feel a certain heaviness in his tone. "Our mission is about to start and we'll be in Greater Jakarta for the next twenty-four hours."
"Do what you need, human," I responded, a hint of a smile on my face.
"But feel free to message me, okay?" He proposed. Giving me a chance for us to continue our discussion. Perhaps it could lead to something more, I hoped.
After saying our goodbyes, I watched Jagomerah and his team depart. The herbivore dining didn't expect an Arxur like me and it would cause problems if I popped up there. Instead, I decided to wait in the plaza. I found a quiet corner and parked myself, my mind wandering back to Jagomerah and his team. The brief time I'd spent with them passed, unlike anything I'd experienced before. I felt a sense of acceptance and togetherness that felt...right.
For the first time, I felt like I belonged.
submitted by YaaliAnnar
to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 16:04 ForeignPlankton1170 Can someone mark this english lanuage Q5 for me
As the storm grew in intensity, the sky darkened, signaling the wrath of nature about to be unleashed. Thick, heavy raindrops began to descend from the heavens, cascading down like a curtain of silver threads, obscuring the view of the ship's deck. The wind, fierce and untamed, whipped through the air with a force that rattled the ship's rigging and sent chills down the spines of those onboard.
The ship's engines strained against the raging tempest, their mechanical roars echoing through the tumultuous night. The vessel pitched and rolled, struggling to maintain its precarious balance amidst the relentless assault of the colossal waves. Each cresting swell crashed against the hull like a battering ram, causing the timbers to groan and creak in protest.
Flashes of lightning illuminated the darkened sky in jagged streaks, momentarily transforming the stormy expanse into a vivid tableau. The crackling electric bolts cast an eerie glow upon the tumultuous sea, revealing the towering walls of water that surrounded the beleaguered ship. And with every surge of thunder that followed, the passengers could feel the raw power of the storm reverberating through the very depths of their beings.
Fear clutched at the hearts of those onboard as they huddled together, seeking solace and support in their collective struggle. The cabin was filled with a medley of prayers, whispered pleas, and nervous whispers as they clutched their life jackets, the buoyant symbols of their slim hope. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of dampness and salt.
Meanwhile, the crew members, clad in their oilskins, fought against the tempest with unwavering determination. Their faces etched with lines of strain, they toiled relentlessly to keep the ship afloat, their shouts and commands blending into the cacophony of wind and waves. They manned the helm with grim determination, their skilled hands guiding the vessel through the treacherous sea, desperately seeking a path to safety.
Passengers clung to whatever they could find, their knuckles white from the intensity of their grip. Their eyes darted anxiously across the tumultuous expanse, searching for any sign of respite, any glimpse of calmer waters on the horizon. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as the storm raged on, their faith tested with every passing moment.
And yet, amidst the chaos, moments of unity and resilience emerged. Strangers became comrades, supporting and encouraging one another through the darkest hours. The shared burden of fear forged bonds that transcended social barriers, as they found solace in their shared humanity.
As the storm persisted, the night wore on, and exhaustion set in. But still, hope flickered like a stubborn flame within their hearts. Each crash of lightning and roar of thunder only served to fuel their determination to overcome the tempest. They clung to the belief that beyond the storm, there lay a brighter horizon, where tranquility and safety awaited.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the storm began to relent. The rain softened, and the wind gradually lost its ferocity. The ship, battered and weary, emerged from the tempest into a realm of relative calm. Exhausted yet filled with a newfound sense of gratitude and awe, the passengers and crew embraced the dawning light as a testament to their resilience in the face of adversity.
As they navigated the remaining swells and guided the ship back to shore, a collective sigh of relief escaped from their lips. They had weathered the storm, tested by its fury and found strength within themselves they never knew they possessed. And as the sun rose on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the sea, they felt a profound sense of gratitude for the gift
submitted by ForeignPlankton1170
to GCSE [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 15:37 HurricaneBetsy What ChatGPT has to say about the Watts case
I recently started using AI during my workday and decided to ask about the Watts case to see what answer it would give. I found the response to be very reasonable.
Here is the response:
Reports and investigations surrounding the Chris and Shanann Watts case suggested that their public portrayal of a perfect life on social media differed from the reality of their relationship. Shanann Watts often shared photos and posts on social media platforms, particularly Facebook, showcasing her family's seemingly happy and harmonious life.
However, as the case unfolded, it became apparent that their relationship faced underlying challenges and strains. Some friends and family members later revealed that there were tensions and marital issues between Chris and Shanann. Financial difficulties, communication problems, and marital discord were cited as contributing factors to the strain in their relationship.
The information that emerged after the tragedy indicated that their marriage was troubled, despite the positive image they projected online. Reports suggest that Shanann was unaware of the extent of Chris's dissatisfaction and the possibility of his involvement in an extramarital affair at the time of the murders.
It's important to note that the specifics of their private lives and the dynamics within their relationship are based on the available information from investigations, interviews, and statements provided by friends, family, and law enforcement officials. Public perceptions were largely shaped by the contrasting images portrayed on social media versus the reality of their situation.
The case serves as a reminder that appearances on social media platforms may not always reflect the true dynamics of individuals' personal lives, and it underscores the complexity of relationships and the potential for hidden struggles beneath the surface
submitted by HurricaneBetsy
to WattsFree4All [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 15:26 runnerrunner02 Eye evil - Parasitic Hive Machine Intelligence Gang Stalking - Insights/Revelations Reading between the Lies/Lines - True Nature.
Why is it when i choose to go alone to different places, be it the shops, certain events, just even to the park… being in my own space, my own spherical energy. Choosing my own path. My own lines. I get so many weird stares, stares which has energy signals radiating from them and thoughts projected within them. It also seems people get intimidated just by walking past me, I sense the energy and vibes. I get weird looks everywhere I go. It’s not some paranoia shit, I am sober and have been for a while now. Day/night doesn’t matter. I prefer to go to places alone. Loneliness is different from Alone. Alone to me is in the name… al/one… allone/whole/complete/pure individualised sovereign freedom. Not having someone by a dog leach or being someone’s pet. However in todays modern artificial fake society it has become the norm to be in a big group (hive), the norm to own someone and be owned by someone, instead of being alone (all/one)… being your true self. It’s like when your seen alone, amongst a bunch of hive mind sheep, your seen as a threat. You stand out, without trying because you are free to be, you don’t have conditions or chains attached. Full response-ability, Free thinking, There’s no proving or attention seeking nor asking for approval…
I have realised and continually seeing through the multidimensional mechanics to this prison realm. How it opperates on many different density levels has been revealed to myself. Through the use of plant substances, astral and lucid dreams and just in general life of repeated patterns of (coincidence/synchronicity)….
I realise that I am a real player (an energetically activated flame) amongst a bunch of neurotically connected empty/unconscious/unaware vessels which are easily hijacked. I say this because One that is not aware of energy, one that can not feel and sense magnetism with the hands, one that lacks the awareness of this multidimensional construct is easy access for entities to view through them, to use them as a portal. It’s been known as gangstalking. These Watcher gatekeeper entities use them as a medium to get to you, because they are formless, they use form to evoke certain thoughts/feelings. To mess with your mind/body/spirit.. Through the watching, certain energy can be projected at you like a weapon. The eye is just like a camera. Like all these smart cities that are getting built, it’s the humans that are the real cameras and stalkers to watch outfor, not the cameras on poles lol.. It’s all a game of energy and information. When you are aware, when you know a lot of information, when you activate your sense recognition of feeling energy, you ping online on the grids on all energetic levels and you then become a threat. So a close eye is kept on you, because once one reconnects and activates their spark into a flame it’s game over for whoever tries to fuck with them. You reconnect with your angelic origins and creator being source power, a force of pure nature.
The evil eye is basically entities that are using that body/vessel/vehicle as a portal to watch you and keep an eye on you. It can be your neighbour, your family members, your work colleagues… basically anyone that can’t sense energy and that is unaware of their true nature, their True Self. Can be and will be used like a puppet, to true interrupt and intercept your flow. To information mine and to simply observe.
With the gangstalking/coincidences/synchronicities… ITS ALL IN THE TIMING!!! I repeat, ITS ALL IN THE TIMING. All you have to do is to take a simple mental note, observe the timing of when certain scenarios play out. And you will notice a repeated pattern. Like tonight for me while riding my bike, the exact moment I pass by this building, all the lights in the building came on, the exact moment my personal grid lines to the right passed by, it all turned on. Then bit later I was walking around, walked past someone and they blew cigarette smoke in my face, it was timed perfectly and a subtle action. Then the exact moment I walk past this house, the garage door opens, the exact moment my feet step in-line with it. There is many tactics these entities use to alert the individual to inform they are being watched. Such as coughing, both while I was riding and walking had people cough on direct timing as I passed them. Also had direct timing someone’s phone rang. When your in the flow, you notice these happen one after the other.
It’s simple just Take note of your main 2 personal vertical grid lines. XY in front of you, behind you and to the left and right. These are you main 90° grid lines. ➕. 2 Vertical infinite extending planes.
Other signs are when your leaving and arriving, notice the timing of other cars around you. Once you read between the lies/lines (your grid lines) whatever comes into contact with those vertical grid lines, you will see beyond the veils and see this scripted simulation like reality. You could be walking in the shops, you look over to your left and notice someone walking at the exact same pace, the moment you stop they stop. It’s small things but the puzzle pieces will all connect and you will see that this place is not real. Only to the unconscious dreamer it is real. They called it the maya for a reason. It’s like an experiment gone horribly wrong. Or a dream you can’t wake up from. Realise you were never in the dream, you are the dream. You are reality itself. What’s looking is what your looking for. If thy eye be single thy body shall be full of light. Non-dual. Not-two. 1 complete alone being. The Self. Which has no conditions, it transcends mind/body/thoughts.. it is as it is. Pure awareness, so to say.
Just take note of the coincidences, The hive machine Intelligence (that’s what it is like and that’s how it seems to operate) is always revealing itself to you. The number plates, the adverts, the overheard conversations, the imagery on shirts/cars/buildings, the timing of a certain sound as you walk past… you name it… once you see you can’t unsee… this is to be awakened for eternity… eternity being truth of the nowhere.. now/here.. that’s all.
The matrix it’s all around you… no such thing as coincidences. Do you have the correct lens to see clearly? Or is your lens still overlayed, distorted and clouded with nonsense programming and belief systems. How many pairs of glasses are you really wearing? How many subtle weights are you carrying that you didn’t even know? Bring fourth thy light of thy awareness to the unconscious shadow and light up that muthafkrr.
My take on it, is that human beings have forgotten this feeling, this feeling of pure awareness, pure aliveness, pure electromagnetism, pure light energy. They have been desensitised to the Truth of the Natural State. Enveloped with strong imprinted mind control belief systems to reinforce this artificial egoic finite non existent character. This past person that only exist within the mind/thought.. Due to this, their emotional, astral and mental body systems are easily hijackable as they are identified with them and actions play out in the physical from the spiritual. This machine like Intelligence has overridden and overlayed ones true organic sense of being/awareness. With thought identification. Thus they think they are their thoughts, thus they think they are their emotions, thus they live in a manipulated fantasy world of the maya. Thoughts deceives, but the heart beat clearly perceives… all is mind or is it?
submitted by runnerrunner02
to EscapingPrisonPlanet [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 15:22 Narrow_Muscle9572 Movie Theater Nostalgia
Calebs first job was in town at the Golden Age Movie Theater. Most of the time his job consisted of getting people their change when they bought their tickets, popcorn, drinks and more, however it also involved cleaning the bathrooms. It wasn't a great job, but for someone who didn't have bills to pay, it paid very well.
There was a lot of free time to do his homework and read while at work, and when he was finished Caleb would play one of the many arcade games the owner brought in over the years to attract more customers.
The owner, Edwin Noble, was a cheap man, but he did right by Caleb. After all, Gray Hill was not booming with people willing to work at those prices, so it was best not to do wrong to the people who were willing to come in early and stay late.
When Caleb started working there, Jurassic Park was playing even though it had been out of the theaters for four months because renting the reels late was a way to save money.
During Caleb's sophomore year in highschool, Edwin Noble put up a closed sign in the windows. Caleb feared that the business had died. However when he approached Mister Noble it was revealed that the theater was only closed for renovations.
“We need a gimmick, Caleb,” mister Noble said as he looked over a pile of bills while sitting at his desk. “When I was a kid, theaters had all sorts of things that kept people coming back. Are you familiar with The Shocker? It was a Vincent Price movie and theaters all over the country had random chairs set up to shake at certain parts of the movie. It was a real blast to see people jump and scream as if the movie was coming off the screen.”
“That sounds awesome,” Caleb replied, smiling.
“I think so too. If that won’t fill those empty seats I don't know what will.”
Before the school year ended, the theater opened up and Caleb got to be the first to experience what the new renovations had to offer. The movie he watched was Alien and it was exactly like mister Noble said. The seats not only shook, but when the alien first burst out of the man's chest and ran off, a device under the seat made Caleb feel something run by his feet. Later in the movie, hidden tubes in the headrest blew out air giving the illusion that the Xenomorph was breathing down his neck.
“What did you think?” mister Noble asked with a wide grin once the film was over.
“That was great,” Caleb answered honestly. “Will all the movies here be like that?”
“I plan on it.”
Having Caleb's stamp of approval, mister Noble put an ad in the local newspaper, claiming a once in a lifetime opportunity for all who showed up at the official reopening of the theater.
While this attracted more people to come in and buy tickets, it wasn't anything like Edwin wished it would be. Even though mister Noble tried to hide the fact that his business wasn’t doing well, Caleb could see him struggling with the reality that unless something changed drastically, he would not be able to keep the business running.
The change from being fun and happy, to bitter was subtle, but Caleb saw Edwin everyday and could see the slow metamorphosis. All the stress over the years made him look like he was sick. While he used to have a small gut, he became rail thin and pale. Caleb wondered if he starved himself to save money for his failing business.
After months of hearing his boss rant about ‘the good ole days’ and how they are never coming back, Edwin Noble closed the theater so it could go under even more changes. Caleb knew that his boss was barely treading water and was afraid that with all the money he was putting into the theater he was going to sink.
Caleb never shared these thoughts with anyone but his parents when they asked him how work went.
The new updates were not as big as the last but mister Noble was convinced that they would make all the difference. When he spoke about the changes to Caleb, he never gave too much away because he wanted it to be a secret. Caleb didn't mind this because it was the first time in a long while that mister Noble seemed to be genuinely happy.
“Caleb, my boy” mister Noble would say. “When everything is set up, anyone who comes here will have their lives changed forever.”
When mister Noble reopened the theater he went all out on the fanfare. Not just taking out an ad in the newspaper, he had bought spotlights to light up the sky “just like they used to have during the golden age of Hollywood.”
No one knew what kind of movie was going to be playing for the grand reopening and when asked, mister Noble was very tight lipped about it, even to Caleb.
While the mystery of what the movie was going to be was intriguing, Caleb wanted to know what the updates were. On the day of the reopening he didn't have much time to snoop around and look because mister Noble wanted him behind the counter, waiting for any would-be customer. However he did manage to take a peek inside but the only difference he noticed was the speakers on the walls.
The movie was supposed to start at eight, but did not start until closer to nine because mister Noble wanted to wait just in case more people showed up. The only reason it started at all was because a few people started to get up to leave the theater.
When the movie started, mister Noble locked the doors and told Caleb to follow him up to the room with the projector. Caleb asked why he would lock the door and the answer he got was “When Alfred Hitchcock released Psycho, he wanted every theater to lock the doors the moment the movie started so no one would miss a single second.”
As Caleb watched his boss prepare the film, he noticed how excited he was. The anticipation and enjoyment of showing this mysterious film completely offset the fact that the turnout was less than either of them expected.
The film mister Noble wanted to show the town was an independent film called “The Toilet Worm”.
Caleb didn't mind independent or B-horror films, but this one was terrible. Thankfully the movie was just under fifteen minutes.
The plot of the movie seemed pretty straightforward: A man was eating at a buffet and his stomach was upset so he ran off to find the bathroom. As soon as the man on the screen found the toilet, he pulled off his pants and sat down.
After a few long disgusting moments of the man straining, a monster worm crawled up from the pipes and slithered its way into the man's anus and started eating him from the inside out.
The audience didn't make a sound as this happened, and Caleb figured that they were all sitting in stunned silence like he was.
Immediately after the man stopped screaming and his head fell to the side, the credits started rolling. mister Noble hopped up and down, giggling like a child as he clapped his hands.
“What do you think?” asked mister Noble.
“I—” Caleb started, not knowing what he could say to this. He expected everyone there would ask for a refund because of the low quality of the film they just witnessed as well as its short runtime. If he told his boss this it might hurt his feelings and he was too nice of a kid to do that. Before he could come up with an answer mister Noble started walking out the projectionist room and down the stairs.
“Come on, Caleb” he called out over his shoulder. “We got to clean up before the next showing.”
Caleb did as he was told and followed mister Noble into the theater after turning on the lights. The audience didn't move an inch.
“Grab the legs” mister Noble said as he pulled a large man out of his seat, sending him collapsing between the seat he was in and the row in front of him.
It was then that Caleb saw that the man was bleeding. Almost as if he was—
The smell of blood filled Caleb’s nose and he fell to one knee as he felt his supper making its way up. As he threw up he noticed that under the seats was what looked to be long sharp swords aiming straight up.
“Are you going to help me or not?” mister Noble asked as he struggled to pull the man into the aisle.
Realization came over Caleb and all color left his face. He wanted to run. Wanted to tell the police that his boss just killed six people by having knives come up from under the seats.
He was just about to take off and alert the authorities, but then mister Noble hissed “If you don't help me right now, I’ll test the next movie on you.”
“What's the next movie?” Caleb asked.
Mister Noble smiled wickedly. “Scanners.” WAE
submitted by Narrow_Muscle9572
to Odd_directions [link] [comments]
2023.06.03 15:18 burningexeter Here's the pitch or rundown for a Kim Possible fanfiction that I'm working on coming up with and fleshing out.
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Aforementioned above, here's the entire run-down on the idea and I think it's best to just get it all out there for all to see but this time actually have the fanfiction be interesting and well written, of actual quality. submitted by burningexeter to KimPossible [link] [comments]
The fic is called "Kim Possible & Shego: Call Me, Beep Me" and it acts as essentially a reboot to Kim Possible with a new take or rather spin to it.
In 2002 Middleton, Colorado, a teenage cheerleader captain Kimberly Ann "Kim" Possible thinks to either her advantage or disadvantage that she can do anything, all stemming from what her family says "Anything is possible for a Possible", but it's this mindset that leads her to becoming too cocky and full-of-herself for her own good. It's then that she's about to find out that none of this is going to do her any favors as Kim finds herself being eyed by both a top secret, government agency called "Global Justice" to be one of their agents due to her tremendous cheerleader skills and a former GJ agent-turned-villain named Shego who views Kim as a worthy foe to do battle with.
• Shego will be given a new backstory this time around with her motivations and reasoning for becoming a villain recently being kept ambigious like in the series. This time around she was a top GJ agent who defeated and brought in several dangerous villains and even saved countless civilians.... now at this point when the story starts, she's now a very recent-turned villain who's wanted in over 11 countries and has a high body count. The only hint we will ever get in the fic to why she had a face-heel turn is that there was an unspecified event that gave her her new powers but that's about it. Another thing which is a new change is that it's revealed Shego's real name is Kim as well - Kim Verrick - and that she too was a Middleton High cheerleader captain when she was KP's age.
• The first chapter which is a prologue will be an updated Global Justice government profile that details Kim (Shego)'s history and how she was the best of the best with what happened being the most tragic the agency has ever seen. FILE #5952 SUBJECT: KIMBERLY "KIM" VERRICK A.K.A. SHEGO
• As for Kim POSSIBLE, her character development throughout the fic will be certainly interesting as she starts off a bit too cocky for her own good, jumping headfirst without thinking things through, hence she easily fumbles. Basically Kim will remain mostly the same in terms of personality however with some tweaks in order for her to be revamped.
• Same goes for Shego to a certain degree. For the most part, she'll remain exactly how she was yet new tweaks will be added. She now has more of a bombastic Oogie Boogie type personality with an addiction to gambling while walking that fine line in being an anti-hero and anti-villain who has a code.
• Both the Bebes and Bonnie Rockwaller will also be in the fic and play huge roles with them going from antagonists to unlikely allies. The Bebes will also be given a new backstory along with Shego - this time around they too were Global Justice agents, triplets to be precise, that were some of the best in the field until they were involved in a severe accident on a mission in the Himalayas and a now-bad Shego resurrects them or rather their conciscousness into three identical robots that she built.
• Through a couple of references and easter eggs here and there sprinkled in throughout the fic, it will be heavily implied that there's a shared universe with other media. Said few references and easter eggs will be made to Big Trouble In Little China, The Monster Squad, Die Hard, Speed and The Long Kiss Goodnight.
• The entire fic is to take place in April to May of 2002 though the actual fic will have it be more of a floating timeline.
2023.06.03 14:54 cantaloupe1993 29 M Germany
29 year old young professional from Germany. Slim fit. Into gym, health, food, horror movies. Looking for a non sexual bromance with someone to talk to daily and build a connection. Please be from a similar background with similar interests and in shape. A face pic reveal is must!
submitted by cantaloupe1993
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